“To Struggle is the Program”

This is dedicated to my parents, particularly to my dad to honor him for Father’s Day.

As a parent, sometimes I wonder what it is that my children will remember from their childhoods. I reflect on my own childhood and struggle to remember specific details, but some memories are embedded in my soul. I remember things like family vacations (to the cabin and the beach — to this day two of my favorite sounds are the wind rustling through aspen trees and the sound of waves crashing). I remember family game time and family home evenings every Monday. (Mom’s testimony of FHE still resounds in my ears: The prophets have promised blessings to families who hold FHE!) I remember birthday bashes and Christmases where Santa was always a little (or sometimes more than just a little) out of control (Mom always went all-out for holidays).

I also have fond memories of talking with my parents through the years while I sat on the kitchen counter or plopped on their bed where I would decompress about my day, about my life. There are few memories I treasure more than conversations where the gospel was the focus and perspective on the stuff of life was gained.

The specifics of most of those conversations have faded, but there are a few teachings that have stuck. My mom’s testimony of the Atonement is one of those things. I remember in particular her talking about how everything in life is designed to help us understand the Atonement better. That’s something I reflect on often.

Another teaching has stuck, this one from Dad. I don’t know when he started saying it, but Dad’s mantra is one that I’m sure I will pass onto my own children: “To struggle is the program.”

Of course, you can imagine the kinds of conversations that brought on that reminder. Who wants to hear that the pain and struggle they are going through is supposed to be part of life? I sure didn’t. I wanted things to be easier, period. (I would often wonder (and still sometimes do): This is what I signed up for in the premortal world and jumped for joy about?)

In moments of spiritual clarity, however, of course I know he is right. We are here to be tested, to learn from our experiences, to learn faith through the trials that come. In hindsight, I can see blessings that struggling has brought, and I am (usually) grateful for the growth.

Part of the reason I wanted to write about this teaching of Dad’s, though, is that lately, his words have been distilling on me in a slightly different way, thanks to some discussions with my husband. He has been reflecting on how life is a process, not a bunch of events. How often are we focused on the events in life: the next appointment, the next project, the next piano lesson for the children, the next family scripture time, the next big opportunity, the next stage of life when all of our troubles will fade? The list of “things to do” or “things we want” or even the goals we set can sometimes dominate our lives and our thinking. As my husband and I have talked, we have realized, perhaps more profoundly than ever, that it’s possible that a focus on events could also cause us to miss the purpose of life and the opportunity to enjoy and benefit from the journey, and especially to build relationships with God and the people around us.

I think Nephi understood this concept. In 2 Nephi 31, he spends considerable time teaching about the critical nature of baptism, the ordinance necessary to get us into “the strait and narrow path which leads to eternal life” (v. 18). This is an event that is absolutely essential to salvation. And yet, after expounding on the blessings of baptism, Nephi asks an important question:

And now, my beloved brethren, after ye have gotten into this strait and narrow path, I would ask if all is done?

And then, of course, he answers his own question by saying, “Behold, I say unto you, Nay” (v. 19).

The event of baptism is not enough. Indeed, we could plug any important event into this equation. Is all done when we receive the endowment? When we are sealed in the temple? What about other important daily events? Is all ever done? Sometimes that very fact that be exhausting! There is always another meal to cook, another weed to pull, another paycheck to be earned, another church meeting to attend. Clearly, the purpose of life is not really to “be done”!

Nephi teaches us what our lives should be about in verses 20 and 21:

Wherefore, ye must press forward with a steadfastness in Christ, having a perfect brightness of hope, and a love of God and of all men. Wherefore, if ye shall press forward, feasting upon the word of Christ, and endure to the end, behold, thus saith the Father: Ye shall have eternal life.

And now, behold, my beloved brethren, this is the way; and there is none other way….

No event, whether temporal or spiritual, will ever render our work “done.” No goal accomplished is ever sufficient to get us Home. We are here to struggle — not only to struggle in the sense of struggling through pain and trials, but to work hard and to work tirelessly and to work consistently. In short, nothing short of steadfastly enduring to the end (with faith, hope and charity along the way) will be enough to accomplish our work on earth.

Dad’s teaching has taken on a new light for me. Heavenly Father sent us here to learn the process of Christlike living and being. No event alone can make that happen, no matter how grand the event may be. It’s in the struggle, in the striving, in the pressing forward, in the enduring, that the Lord can mold and shape and change us. The ordinances and commandments, as well as our day-to-day to-do lists, are only steps in the process, means to a potentially glorious end. The growth God desires for us comes in the struggle to make the most of every day, to repent when we make mistakes, and to build relationships with God and with our families that can take us into eternity.

To struggle is the program. More than ever before, Dad, I believe you are right.

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