What happens when you know what you're supposed to do, but don't want to do it? Angela explains the steps to accepting and acting on difficult decisions.
I’m dealing with a big decision that is just messing with my head. My loved ones have spent hours giving me advice on the issue, but I still feel unsure of what to do. This uncertainty is causing me a lot of emotional pain and angst.
Finally, tonight, I talked to my parents. My dad gave me advice that I didn’t want to hear, but it sounds (and deep down feels) right. How do I start following his advice when my mind and heart still feel so torn? I feel stuck in this place of indecision. Any advice?
I Want Peace
Dear I Want Peace,
1. You have to make a decision. More painful than making the wrong decision is living in the land of indecision. We’re happiest when we’re doing something, acting for ourselves, in charge of our lives – even if our circumstances aren’t rosy and perfect. You will feel better as soon as you make a choice and commit to it.
2. Make a plan, work your plan. Strong plans lead to success. Is your brain fuzzy about what to do because you don’t have a plan? Maybe you think you have a plan, but have you written it down? Take the time to do that. What’s step one? What’s step two? Be specific, provide room for flexibility and write it down.
For those families involved in adoption, a little understanding goes a long way. Find out what you can do to help support these special families in and out of the Church.
Adoptive parent Terra Cooper embraces the birthmother of her child. Photo courtesy of Brittany Cascio
For Tarrin Philpott, years of diagnosed “unexplained infertility” led her and her husband, Tyrell, to adoption. And it was a shift in strategy and heart.
“Adoption is emotional,” Philpott says. “A big change has to take place. Instead of pregnancy and birth, your mindset changes from a child who shares your DNA to a child who comes in a way we had never previously considered. I had to let go of the family I had envisioned my whole life (a large family, children who looked like me) and accept the new vision for my family. I felt like Tyrell made the shift easily, but I was emotional about it. It was tough making choices about ethnicity and health in our adoption profile. We ultimately left many of those decisions to our Heavenly Father, knowing that we weren’t looking for any baby, we were looking for our baby—the baby meant for us. And He would help guide us to him or her.”
Though everyone knows his name, most people know surprisingly little about Christopher Columbus and the way he shaped the modern world. Fewer still appreciate the role he played in the Restoration and the opening of the last dispensation.
At noon on the Ides of March, 1493, a small wooden ship rode the rising tide up the Río Tinto and into the harbor of Palos, Spain. She wasn’t much of a ship—her deck was only about 55 feet long. She was weathered but solidly built and appeared to be newly caulked. She was named the Santa Clara, but was usually called the Niña after her owner, Juan Niño of Moguer. The Niña had last been seen in Palos on August 3, 1492, sailing down the ebb tide with two other ships, the Santa María and the Pinta as part of an attempt to reach the Orient by sailing west across the uncharted waters.
A crowd quickly gathered to meet the crew as they rowed to shore in a small boat. The most momentous sea voyage in history ended where it began, at a small village on the Atlantic coast of Spain. The town of Palos de la Frontera remains relatively unknown, but the name of the Genoese sea captain who returned there is one of the most widely recognized names in history: Christopher Columbus.
“A Man among the Gentiles”
In recent decades, the story of Columbus has been largely forgotten. He has become not so much a person as a symbol of all that has gone wrong in the modern world. He has become politically incorrect in every way, to the point where on many college campuses, the former Columbus Day holiday has been renamed “fall break.” But for Latter-day Saints, Columbus will always have special place.
Today (October 8th) is Elder M. Russell Ballard's 86th birthday! Learn more about the life of this amazing apostle here.
Photo from lds.org.
1. Elder Ballard's nickname in college was "the bishop." When Elder Ballard was attending the University of Utah, he was known by his fraternity brothers as "the bishop." He got his nickname in part because his friends knew that he would live true to his standards and beliefs, no matter what happened.
2. Elder Ballard kids that getting his wife to marry him was "the greatest sales job [he] ever did." met his wife at a school dance, where they danced for approximately 30 seconds, he said. Soon afterward, they began courting. He knew he wanted to marry her from the beginning, but, according to him, she didn't feel the same way. Elder Ballard, who had worked in car sales, added, "I kid her now that getting her to agree to marry me was the greatest sales job I ever did."
Most missionaries have a wonderful mission experience, meeting new people and working together with them. But some experience more friction than others. Experts say that bullying can happen anywhere--at school, at work, at church, and yes, even on missions.
From the very first day, Elder Davis* knew it was going to be a hard transfer. He just didn’t realize how hard.
Most of his mission, he'd had the typical experience. Overall, he'd gotten along well with companions. Sure, there had been minor problems, but nothing like the things he experienced in what Davis would later dub his "transfer of darkness." Initial disagreements with his companion about following mission rules quickly led to more serious struggles. “Every time I offered a comment I was told I was being uptight and stupid,” Davis says. Even in front of those they were teaching, this behavior continued. “Every single day I was belittled and told how I was wrong and a freak.”
“I felt once again like I was in school, being mocked and humiliated.” Only, it was different from the playground bullies of youth. “It was worse than school because there was no relief. I had no home with parents waiting for me at the end of the day. I was, every minute, stuck to my bully.”
Ashamed that he was being bullied as a 20-year-old man and worried that reporting the verbal abuse would show a lack of faithfulness in working with his companion, Davis says, “I relegated myself to silent suffering. Once in the apartment I would lie on the ground silent, staring straight up at the ceiling, for our entire time planning. I could no longer function when it was just me and him. Alone in the apartment, I could not do anything.”