I was reading the scriptures for this week’s “Come Follow Me” lesson and one scripture really stood out to me.
“And Jesus said, For judgment I am come into this world, that they which see not might see; and that they which see might be made blind.” John 9:39
I really pondered this thought for a moment. This scripture was touching me in a place in my heart and mind that has been questioning “What is next for us?”.
We are getting ready to visit the United States, and during the trip we will need to go through several of our belongings that we left behind, mainly because we were planning to come back in only a few years. Now it has been over 4 and we still don’t have a firm plan of what we are going to do.
This scripture brought me peace, because I can’t see our future right now. I literally feel blind. I feel like I am walking in a thick fog (thankfully not fog machine fog; it smells so gross!). Each day I try to spiritually close my eyes and be gently guided through my day.
I am truly hoping and praying that I can continue to do this during our 2 month trip. But that means that I need to stop trying to see what is up ahead, out of fear, and instead willingly close my eyes and allow myself to be guided by the Holy Ghost, in faith.
I found a great story that is helping me with this. It is from the same place I found the picture shown above (here). It is from a speech given by Jeffrey S. McClellan.
Stepping Through Fear
I sometimes miss the fear in Moses’s story. When I think of Moses parting the Red Sea, I see a confident, bold Moses—looking very much like Charlton Heston—stretching his arms out and dramatically dividing the sea, a miraculous and wondrous deliverance for the children of Israel.
But there’s another version of this story that I have learned in recent years. It is apocryphal, so its truth is suspect or perhaps exaggerated, but it illustrates the “fear and trembling” that makes it a story of great faith.
In this retelling of the story, when Moses stretches his arms over the sea, nothing happens. The hosts of Israel stand there watching and waiting anxiously for deliverance, but it doesn’t come. The fear is real. Right behind them, temporarily halted by a divine column of fire, the armies of Pharaoh are threatening. Ahead of them, the impassable sea blocks the way. And Moses, their deliverer, has declared a miracle but nothing is happening. Some people begin to wail in fear and despair. Then someone takes a step forward.
Nahshon, a tribal leader of Judah and an ancestor of King David and Jesus Christ, steps into the sea, its waves still lapping at the shore. And then he takes another step, and another, deeper and deeper into the sea. Up to his knees. He keeps walking. Up to his hips. He keeps walking. Up to his chest. Step by step. To his neck. Step. To his chin. Step. To his mouth. Step. Nahshon walks forward into the sea, firm in his faith in God’s word as pronounced by His prophet, until the water reaches his nose.
And then the sea parts.
In this alternate version of the Biblical story, Nahshon’s heroic faith is heroic because before there was faith, there was fear; before there was a step, there was uncertainty; before there was deliverance, there was the possibility of failure.
I know that when I to act with this measure of faith, I feel more alive because I receive peace in my heart, mind, spirit and body. But when I don’t, I guess I turn to sin to help me feel better. I don’t want to sin. I hate sinning. It brings me so much sorrow and it messes up the purposes I’m seeking to fulfill.
I don’t need any more sorrow than I already have. So I hope that I will do what this scripture is teaching me . . . It’s okay to be blind! Trust in Him! You won’t drown!