The Best and Worst of Times...

"A Tale of Two Cities" is one of several books by Dickens that I enjoyed reading in high school, and once again I find myself relating to its most famous quote: "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times." We've all heard this reference more than once, but have you ever paid attention to the passage in its entirety? The words are so timely they could have been written today, which is the mark of great literature:

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to heaven, we were all going direct the other way..."

What a great description of the human condition this is! Even the best of us go through periods when, perched upon our own ambivalence, we navigate the days in a state of existential discomfort, so wrapped up in routine or rumination that we fail to land on the sunny side of the conflicting paradigms Dickens portrayed. In such moments, the peace and happiness we seek are held hostage by our shifting, frequently circumstance-driven points of view. Inertia sets in, and we lose sight of both the good things in life and the Giver of them.

Yesterday, as I listened to the semi-annual general conference of my church, Elder Richard C. Edgely reminded me of a simple truth, that "the worst of times can be the best of times, through faith." To be honest, hearing this was not an "aha" moment for me; I already know and understand this principle. It was more of an "oh, yeah" moment. Experience has taught me what I need to know about exercising faith on a daily basis, and yet I am continually in need of a reminder...not just now and then, but on a regular basis. Somehow, caught up in the hustle and bustle of life and my unruly brain, I forget my recurring resolution to remember the Lord's words, "Be still, and know that I am God." Even though they are prominently displayed in my home, emblazened on a bronze plaque in my living room, I forget them. *sigh*

One thing is certain: Life will never be an easy ride, nor was it intended as one. Learning can't take place in a vacuum; growth requires challenge, and obstacles are the norm rather than the exception. It will always be our decision to view living and its attendant struggles as either the best or worst of times. It will also be our decision how to proceed. Of course, we all differ in our reactions and coping mechanisms. My "go-to" tendency has always been to grab hold of the reins and gallop, full speed, to the rescue...of myself and others. I am still learning that rescue is not necessarily the answer, and that acceptance is most often the "cure." Despite my predilection for big answers and big solutions, I have come to realize that "by small and simple things are great things come to pass" (Alma 37:6). It's true, as Leonardo Da Vinci said (and President Uchtdorf quoted in his talk yesterday), that "Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication." What's more, the pursuit and practice of simplicity is the only way to make room for the Lord in our lives. And that's what faith is all about.

I wrote the following sonnet several years before its publication in 1999. (In other words, a long time ago!)

Lifeboat

©1999, Awaken Your Spiritual Power, Susan Noyes Anderson, Karisma Press

A boat is life, a vessel in the gale

Tossed by the wind and driven through the night;

A hapless cutter, searching for the light

That used to dance and shimmer on a sail

Once bright and proud, bedraggled now, and pale.

Life’s boat. The oarsman struggles with its plight,

Unwitting victim of his self-made might,

Each desperate thrusting doomed, at last, to fail.

Humbled, the oarsman tries to understand

The currents that assail him fore and aft;

He struggles with the oars until, unmanned,

He hurls them through the tempest like a shaft.

Henceforth, the raging waters he’ll withstand

By trusting in the Maker of his craft.

Here I am...still working on throwing my flailing oars into the water and trusting my Maker. I find some comfort in Peter's lapse of faith, even while he was walking on water, with the Master in plain view. Peter eventually got it right, and so will I.

"And in the fourth watch of the night Jesus went unto them, walking on the sea. And when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were troubled, saying, It is a spirit; and they cried out for fear. But straightway Jesus spake unto them, saying, Be of good cheer, it is I; be not afraid. And Peter answered him and said, Lord, if it be thou, bid me come unto thee on the water. And he said, Come. And when Peter was come down out of the ship, he walked on the water, to go to Jesus. But when he saw the wind boisterous, he was afraid; and beginning to sink, he cried, saying, Lord, save me. And immediately Jesus stretched forth his hand, and caught him, and said unto him, O thou of little faith wherefore didst thou doubt?" (Matthew 14:25-31).