The end from the beginning

It is easy to know the beginning from the end, we can almost always (whether we like it or not) see the progression that brought us to the point where we are, however it is a much different thing to know the end from the beginning.

I thought of an analogy--I had a roommate once who was doing some handyman work and asked me to help him replace some shingles on a small roof over an entryway. He was already on the roof when I got there, and I had to climb a sloped sidewalk to the front entryway. As I started up the slope, I could see him on the roof, and I knew that was the direction I was heading, but I couldn't see the path that would take me there, except for a few steps in front of me.

Once I arrived at the door, I could clearly see the sidewalk, extending all the way to the front of the property. What I think is interesting is that my roommate, from his vantage point could see the whole yard, from his elevated position, he could see the end from the beginning.

Obviously walking up someone's front lawn is trivial, but as we journey through life, we probably won't be able to see our ends from our beginnings. However, we can follow those who have gone before, we can see at least a bit of the path that lies before us, and if we focus on and listen to Those who sit on high, They will direct us to Them.

8 ¶ For my ^athoughts are not ^byour thoughts, neither are your ^cways my ^dways, saith the Lord.

9 For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ^aways ^bhigher than your ways, and my ^cthoughts than your thoughts. -Isaiah 55:8,9

What I learned in primary today:

We taught a six and seven year-old Sunday school class today about the atonement. Part of the lesson is about Alma's repentance, and the lesson brings up a point that I never really thought about before. It says that Alma was forgiven because the savior would later atone for his sins. I started thinking that it would require a whole different kind of faith to take advantage of an atonement that was still yet to happen. We have very powerful and dramatic stories and images to fix on as we ponder and apply the atonement, that might make it easier to understand and accept.

Not to oversimplify, but I tend to think of the atonement in two parts, repenting of our sins, and healing our hearts. When we sin, I think that we experience, even if only "in the least degree" the consequences of our sins, so we have a reference as to what the savior...in any time... would have had to suffer for us, however I think that the healing applications of the atonement would be more difficult to accept.

Think of the ammonites' agony as they think on the murders they committed. How hard would it be to forgive yourself of sins for which you cannot make amends. How would you console yourself with only the assurance that someday, someone, somehow could make that right.

Imagine the angst of a parent who lost a child. It would be so hard to think that anyone could understand their suffering, let alone offer any healing.

The image of God suffering so greatly, that even with an angel at His side He still sweat great drops of blood... when we learn of the brutality of Christ's last few hours on earth and are taught that the physical pain He endured was insignificant compared to His spiritual suffering, I think we obtain that reference and our minds can accept that He has suffered enough that He does have the tools to heal our wounds, to comfort our souls.

Before Christ came the faithful did not have that. I wonder if they didn't have much purer faith than I have, and a much stronger relationship with their Savior. I think at least I am guilty of losing sight of the gratitude I should have that we are living in the fullness of times. I always associated that with priesthoods and ordinances, but I forget what a gift it is to have a fullness of scripture, of knowledge and what a rich legacy we have from millennia of prophets.