There
is something to be said about the power of darkness to confuse, distract, and
destroy. Darkness is the reason that I, as a little girl, never let my feet
hang bare over the edge of my bed—a shallow attempt to keep myself safe from
the monster living beneath. Darkness is why we wake up after a nightmare and
clutch our pillow closer, staring out into the shadows and hoping that they
will please just stay away.
The
way to beat the monsters, however, is simple. All we have to do is stand up,
walk across the room, and turn the light on. We turn on the light, and the
shadows flee. The nighttime phantoms cower beneath our bed. And we emerge from
the battle pajama-clad and victorious. It is a universal law of physics that
good will always triumph over evil—that light will always overpower darkness. Night’s
wispy phantoms always cower weakly when threatened by our flashlight.
Early
in the Book of Mormon, the prophet Lehi describes these shadows as “an
exceedingly great mist of darkness” that arose, “insomuch that they who had
commenced in the path did lose their way, that they wandered off and were lost”
(1 Nephi 8:23). When mists of smoke and darkness choked the air, those making
their way toward eternal life “wandered off and were lost.” Whether that “wandering
off” occurred as a result of fear, confusion, or anxiety, the outcome remains
the same—those trapped within its swirling midst lost their way. They abandoned
their course. They ceded under pressure.
It
is easy now to read this account and wonder, or scoff, at the fate of these
poor people. How could they let go of the rod, their only guide to safety? How
could they be bested by the darkness? How could they lose sight of the tree? (1
Nephi 8:10) And it is easy to judge until we too find ourselves in the midst of
darkness, surrounded by noise and voices and anger, contention disturbing peace
and politics, and it seems all we can do to cling to the rod.
How
can we hold to something so tiny when we can no longer see where it leads, when
the rod of iron we cling to also leads right into darkness? How can we read our
scriptures when blog posts and YouTube videos seeks to prove the falsehood of
the Book of Mormon? How can we follow the prophet when the world is screaming out
that he is out of touch, that Joseph Smith is a fraud, that faith is
old-fashioned and those who believe in something better are falling behind?
How
can we hold to the rod when we cannot even see what we hold to? When every day
the world paints faith more as blind, thoughtless obedience than it does as a
virtue? No wonder so many men and women
moving toward the tree of life “wandered off”—because they had lost their way
in the darkness. They could not see. They could not see ahead, and they could
not see behind. They could not see to either side. Perhaps they doubted and
lost their grip for a second. Perhaps they were searching for light in the
darkness. Perhaps they let go to reach in their pocket and find their
flashlight. Perhaps they forgot the true source of their light.
The
Lord, leading Lehi and his family across the wilderness toward the promised
land, “had not hitherto suffered that we should make much fire…for he said: I
will make thy food become sweet, that ye cook it not” (1 Nephi 17:12). Why would he command Lehi not to build fires
in the darkness? He sheds further light on such a commandment in the following
verse, where he teaches:
“And
I will also be your light in the
wilderness; and I will prepare the
way before you, if it so be that ye shall keep my commandments” (1 Nephi 17:13). “Inasmuch,” then “as ye
shall keep my commandments ye shall be led towards the promised land; and ye
shall know that it is by me that ye are
led” (1 Nephi 17:13).
The
Lord knows that we will walk through darkness. He sends prophets and apostles
to show us the way, to counsel and guide us on our journey. He knows that the
path will be narrow, the way hard to see, the darkness complete and stinging on
our cheeks. He knows that we will stumble over rocks and boulders in the way.
He knows that we will scrape our knees. But He has promised us that if we will
keep His commandments—if we will NOT let go of the rod of iron, if we will NOT
reach into pockets for our own sources of light—then He will be our light, and He
will lead us through the darkness. He will lead us to the promised land, and we
will know for sure that we are led by the Son of God. We will know. All we have
to do is hold on tight and rely upon the Savior’s
light.
In
this world where good seems evil and evil good—where the power goes out and
world wars blacken windows and mothers burn the midnight oil watching over
their children until the dawn —where all is so uncertain that we cannot see the
way, where all is so uncertain that we do not know which way to turn, He has
promised us a light. He is the light of the world. He is our light in the
wilderness. He is our light in the darkness. And He will prepare the way before
us if we will but choose to obey Him.
If
we would not lose our way, then we must choose to hang on tight and follow.
Through the darkness we will go, but at the end there will be a tree, a tree whose
fruit is “most sweet, above all that I ever before tasted” and “white, to
exceed all the whiteness that I had ever seen.” That fruit will “[fill our
souls] with exceedingly great joy,” that fruit that is “desirable above all
other fruit” (1 Nephi 8:11-12). We will find it if we let Him lead us there--if we do not let go.
