“If ye continue in my word, then are ye my disciples indeed; And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free." (John 8:31-32)

See also John 8:47, JST.

For some time, I’ve felt (and forgotten) the need to include a pleasant thought that combines work with hope as regards the future. That hope, naturally, centers in Christ. All knowledge of the future and all personal circumstances in the future come only with reference to Him. I’ve stated publicly before that how hard a doctrine seems depends upon where we stand in relation to it. (1 Nephi 16:2-3 and 2 Nephi 9:40 verify this.) On a good day, even the most wintry doctrines offer a curious sort of consoling power. Pres. Joseph Fielding Smith’s thoughts (previously given here) concerning obedience and the difficulty thereof apply, as do these combined truths in reaction to gospel requirements:

Suppose we were called to leave what we have now, should we call it a sacrifice? Shame on the man who would so call it; for it is the very means of adding to him knowledge, understanding, power, and glory, and prepares him to receive crowns, kingdoms, thrones, and principalities . . . (Brigham Young, JD, 2:7)

May God bless all of our young people with a spirit of serving. If it involves sacrifice, don’t worry about it—it really isn’t sacrifice. That is the marvelous thing. It isn’t sacrifice, because when you give, you always gain more than you give. (Gordon B. Hinckley, From My Generation to Yours...With Love! [Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Company, 1973], 25)

Erm, back to the promised statement....

Do you wish to come to know your future? "The expectation of the just is joy." [Proverbs 10:28, varied translation] (John of Salisbury, Policraticus, ed. and trans. Cary J. Nederman [orig. 1159; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990], 229)

This reminds me of two similar quotations:

Now, brethren and sisters, you see what is before you; you see what it will require upon your part to obtain the Celestial glory. If you cannot live up to the requirements of this law that governs in the Celestial kingdom, though you may have membership in the Church, you cannot abide that glory. That is the edict. The Lord tells us that in Section 88.

Section 76 is a great revelation. We can sit down by ourselves and determine just which glory will satisfy us and how we can obtain it, and we are left without excuse. (Rudger Clawson, CR, Oct. 1937, 110-111)

I will refer to the “Vision” [Section 76] alone, as a revelation which gives more light, more truth, and more principle than any revelation contained in any other book we ever read. It makes plain to our understanding our present condition, where we came from, why we are here, and where we are going. Any man may know through that revelation what his part and condition will be. For all men know what laws they keep, and the laws which men keep here will determine their position hereafter; they will be preserved by those laws and receive the blessings which belong to them. (Discourses of Wilford Woodruff, 47-48)

So I’ve been thinking a lot about truth lately, and one of the supreme scriptures guiding my life’s pursuits. (I choose that last word on the same premise as Franklin’s alleged thought, “The U. S. Constitution doesn't guarantee happiness, only the pursuit of it. You have to catch up with it yourself.”)

And truth is knowledge of things as they are, and as they were, and as they are to come;
And whatsoever is more or less than this is the spirit of that wicked one who was a liar from the beginning. . . .
He that keepeth his [God’s] commandments receiveth truth and light, until he is glorified in truth and knoweth all things. (D&C 93:24-25, 28)

Indeed, sometimes I use the term “doctrine” so broadly that it equates, roughly, to “truth.” Abraham Lincoln observed the perplexing difficulty sometimes encountered in human interactions:

Men are not flattered by being shown that there has been a difference of purpose between the Almighty and them. To deny it, however, in this case, is to deny that there is a God governing the world. (1865 letter to Thurlow Weed, in Harlan Hoyt Horner, The Growth of Lincoln's Faith [New York: The Abingdon Press, 1939], 154)

President Lincoln had the strikingly rare characteristic expressed in another letter:

I shall do less whenever I shall believe what I am doing hurts the cause, and I shall do more whenever I shall believe doing more will help the cause. I shall try to correct errors when shown to be errors; and I shall adopt new views so fast as they shall appear to be true views. (to Horace Greeley in 1862, in Donald T. Phillips, Lincoln on Leadership: Executive Strategies for Tough Times [New York, New York: Warner Books, 1992], 78-79)

This is the appropriate level of meekness. However, he also stated, “I think it cannot be shown that when I have once taken a position, I have ever retreated from it” (in William Lee Miller, Lincoln's Virtues: An Ethical Biography [New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2002], 14).

There’s something I consider another highly necessary virtue: that of obtaining sufficient divine information to never require adjustments, and then to refuse to yield on it. Even the liberal Thomas Jefferson advised, “In matters of style, swim with the current; in matters of principle, stand like a rock.” (In today’s world, matters of style frequently clash with matters of principle.)

Another U.S. president, Woodrow Wilson, surprised people in college when he refused to debate for the side chosen for him: “But he would not, even as an academic exercise, argue against his convictions. He retired from the debate” (William Archer, The Peace-President: A Brief Appreciation [New York: Henry Holt and Company, 1919], 5). Among the—perhaps too many—things with which I’m impatient is those who hypothesize when all such gestures are unnecessary, or worse. Elder Nelson’s keen insight:

Well do I remember a friend who would routinely sow seeds of contention in Church classes. His assaults would invariably be preceded by this predictable comment: “Let me play the role of devil’s advocate.” Recently he passed away. One day he will stand before the Lord in judgment. Then, I wonder, will my friend’s predictable comment again be repeated?

Here’s the original citation information, from the first and heretofore only time I personally injected this delightful thought into public discourse (March 2002):

Russell M. Nelson, “The Canker of Contention,” Ensign, May 1989, 70. See Kimball, The Miracle of Forgiveness, 53, Boyd K. Packer, Teach Ye Diligently, rev. ed. (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 1991), 208-213, and The Teachings of Harold B. Lee, 88. Some teachers disassemble testimonies under the guise of developing them. Spiritual growth may be achieved under pressure, but not because a teacher “challenges” our faith. Testimonies are added to, not assaulted and subtracted from. Any teacher actually desirous of enhancing testimony should stand ready to fill the void with a double portion of the Spirit or not risk the undertaking at all. President Joseph Fielding Smith said, “There is no virtue in doubt” (CR, Apr. 1925, 74). While doubt can generally be excused, it certainly should not be fostered, praised, or in any way condoned. See D&C 6:36; 1 Tim. 1:3-6.

I had not at the time linked it with a quote urged upon that teacher (described in a previous entry) who gave me so much grief: “The Latter-day Saints are in a position to progress and to become informed in every direction without having to stop to investigate the theories and views of men. The Lord has revealed with plainness and simplicity, accompanied by the testimony of the Holy Ghost, many things about which the world is in doubt” (George Q. Cannon, CD, 5:192).

I wish for the freedom to put down my thoughts without misinterpretation from others. Motive or qualification tend to be the first things to come under attack. Sure, I could do this easily enough in my journal, but if understood properly I think others could benefit from these experiences (which makes them more worth going through, too). So I assume free rein—more like reign—over my own blog. ;-) All of this will be stated completely free of rancor or self-promotion, only in the interests of truthful commentary.

My suspicions now are that at this stage in life, even more than for the feelings of abandonment (which was in actuality, if the story could ever be appropriately understood, a merciful one), I have resented a former relationship for forcing me to return to the singles scene. (Which, like it or not, frequently abounds in immaturities.) Knowing that could empower me to work on any sort of dour expression I may have about it.

For some years I’ve had the beginnings of a paper about dating in a gospel context. From the time Elder Oaks first opened up about it, a lot more has been added to the picture than ever existed before. Among the things I’d plead for is more Christlike dating, to interact in a different fashion and with different notions than the rest of the world. One cannot contest my unusual vantage point on this entire atmosphere, and I now push forward without apology. Elder Maxwell made the necessary connection for me:

The deception of others always begins with self-deception. First the victim, self then becomes the willing accomplice. We see it all too often in the power plays of business frauds, politics, coverups, and even dating. (Neal A. Maxwell, Whom the Lord Loveth: The Journey of Discipleship [Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Company, 2003], 25-26)

When one is deceived by oneself, how much more difficult for outside voices (in a world filled with competing voices, in any event) to reach the heart! In such a state, how fearful this fact: “Those who never retract their opinions love themselves more than they love the truth” (Joseph Joubert, in John M. Shanahan, The Most Brilliant Thoughts of All Time (In Two Lines or Less) [New York, New York: Cliff Street Books, 1999], 87).

I heard an opinion last week and possessed sufficient information from my own experience to know it for untruth the moment it emerged. While I was attempting to doze off, I overheard a young woman—whose identity will remain sealed away—declare that she’d sat by someone because she always tried to sit by new guys in the ward, in case they’d go home and never return for lack of attention. (Of course, my life is such that oftentimes I can overhear girls’ gossip when they’re aware I’m right there, as if I’m not at least as intelligent as the average male.) Now, she didn’t need to announce that she identified good-looking men and then introduced herself, but why the elaborate explanation to make her feel better about herself and appear honorable to others? I spent months sitting practically alone, and it’s a good thing I’m not the type to let supposed rejection—the very thing to which she pointed—deter me from attendance. Granted, I was probably afraid of women for a while anyway, so I’m not arguing in favor of the opposite; the value (if such there is) of being around me must be realized on your own, or not at all. I merely say that the truth always comes out! People frequently give the lie to their own professions.

I had the same realization that day in the foyer as several years ago in an apartment with roommates receiving constant attentions from female visitors. I could probably change some factors of presentability, but there’s nothing to be done for the main one. I’m at peace with that. There are drastically worse fates than being single. I’m freed from an otherwise odious concern, since I’m a man prone to tackling problems head-on, and that one isn’t going to change for anything.

Now, years ago I was not okay about it. At that time, whenever I found myself thinking such thoughts, I’d figure there was too much free time on my hands, so I’d set myself the task of going to the library or the temple or some such thing. It’s amazing how much I got done!!! Without any actual call for attention to myself, I also wish that people could be more honest, instead of like another girl who once said in my presence that she liked spiritual men, while proving by all her actions that it probably ranked no higher than #3 on her list.

Woe to those who profess to be Saints and are not honest. Only be honest with yourselves, and you will be honest to the brethren. (Discourses of Brigham Young, 231-232)

Nobody needs to feign an interest. Which is partially why even genuine adherence to that girl’s avowed agenda could fall flat, as Elder Marlin K. Jensen noted:

"Well, bishop," he said (and I will need to paraphrase here slightly), "for heaven's sake, whatever you do, please don't assign me a friend."

I learned a great lesson that day. No one wants to become a "project"; we all want spontaneously to be loved. And, if we are to have friends, we want them to be genuine and sincere, not "assigned." (Ensign, May 1999, 65)

I have to confess that I’ve never taken anyone out who didn’t rate fairly well on a cuteness scale. I don’t think that was entirely deliberate, and it certainly wasn’t the aim, but who knows? I believe this can even apply to dating:

We talk about service to others. Too often when service is mentioned we think of some physical aid that we might render. I tell you a better service can sometimes be given to others by speaking well of them, or, if you cannot speak well of them, by refraining from speaking of them at all, than by any physical aid which we can give. (David O. McKay, CR, Oct. 1919, 78-79)

Today I saw in the Church News that a former neighbor of mine has been assigned as mission president over one of the numerous Brazilian missions. All this talk, in combination with that, takes me back to pre-mission days. I recall being in a slight huff when my good friend told me how that man’s wife, a kindly Young Women President, was actively trying to set him up with one of the finest young women. I took it all back later.... One afternoon I was helping Sister Q, as we called her, up at the family history center. A day or so later my father accused me of not telling him about something discussed with Sister Q, which it turned out she hadn’t told me: her sister was coming out to BYU, and she wanted me to go out with her.

For some reason, I never could motivate myself to do much about dating before my mission. I wanted to be disentangled to focus on the Lord’s work. But I must say that Sister Q’s sister, like so many Brazilian women (especially the chaste ones who decline being swimsuit models), was gorgeous. We met, she was nice, and I never took any action on that. I might just have been completely overawed.

In that same home ward, I had a hopeless crush for a year or so. I first noticed her while sitting in a meeting as deacons quorum president, and she was there for the Beehives. When my scoutmaster learned of it, he called her “cute as a bug.” That phrase really confused me, since I didn’t perceive bugs as being very cute. This should have been my first lesson, poorly learned even as late as December 2005, in what Heber C. Kimball elucidated, “Her face may be as smooth as an onion; but the beauty of a woman is in the spirit she possesses and in the principles of righteousness she cherishes” (JD, 6:126). But of course Balzac pegged it: “Are not all young men ready to trust the promise of a pretty face and to infer beauty of soul from beauty of feature?” (The Works of Honore De Balzac [Roslyn, New York: Black's Readers Service, ?], 517). My rude awakening came when we actually had a church class together. Fancy that. At first I found her distressingly disruptive. Then came the clincher: she couldn’t seem to locate the book of Alma, when the odds are almost in favor of coming across it just by opening the Book of Mormon. It was laughable that, years later, my good friend mentioned earlier made some overtures toward reconnaissance for her, only to learn that I was completely uninterested. I came home and scrawled in my journal, “I did as *.*. is doing now until I found out just who *.*. really was. *.*. did what I am doing now until *.*. found out just who I really was.”

I got to shock that good friend one more time before our post-mission lives pretty much sent us our separate ways. My best friend applied constant pressure for me to take more action on the dating front—I think he knew that I secretly wanted it, though I was petrified. He informed me that he’d find a good girl for me to go out with, from one of the institute classes he taught. The way he tells it, or something like this, he posed this to his class: “I have a friend who needs to go on a date. His name is Kris Swinson. . . .” He was about to talk about my dwarfism, but two hands went up. My first date took place when I was already in college, and nearly 18 years old. When my good friend learned about it later, his jaw dropped noticeably and he remarked that she’d been one of the cutest girls in our high school. (Trust me, I’d known it from the time we had math together.)

Off-campus housing yielded lots of interesting experiences. One apartment was quite the bachelor’s pad. We had a humongous sofa and sound system. One day I came home to a group probably larger than a dozen, all in the front room. They invited me to watch the movie with them. I looked around the room for some place, when I heard a female voice call, “You can sit in my lap.” I fled to the back, lickety-split.

One girl kept arranging to come play Scrabble with me every Saturday. One day, as she was placing a word, she told me, “Don’t go ‘Mormon’ on me.” The word by itself wasn’t even objectionable—though I have a personal rule to forego the points rather than using something dirty. However, I wondered why the emphasis on our shared religious beliefs, as if it were a negative thing. Why not, “Don’t go ‘extreme’ on me”? That evening’s journal comment: “By the way, I will always ‘go Mormon,’ unless I’ve fallen into transgression.” I kept this totally to myself, and simply accepted the game opportunities. I did not see it as a developing relationship. Eventually, I found her hand on my bare arm. I simply looked up and stared at her, which I trust wasn’t too mean in and of itself. She removed her hand and there was never anything more to it. Certainly no more Scrabble days.

In later years, a female co-worker placed her hand on mine when conveying good news, as if to test something. She soon remarked that the girl she’d seen me talking to outside must be my girlfriend—which she was—because she didn’t see me let any other woman get that close. In retrospect, I’ve wished I hadn’t given in to my only girlfriend ever imploring me for several days for my first kiss. Just because they ask ever so nicely is no reason to become casual about it. There’s no question but that we humans are wired to like it. (It’s possible that I went on for some time in the delusion that I had to marry her because we’d kissed repeatedly.)

One date, which bombed out for so many reasons, severely violated my personal boundaries. She approached me after I’d given a talk, with this creepy, “Let’s talk about eternal things.” (Hence one of my first rules, seldom broken: a girl must express obvious interest prior to hearing me speak in church.) Then she pressed me, over and over, for a date. Since she’d asked, I waited for something to materialize. She actually barged into another one of my dates—twice—to pester me about it. Ultimately I told her that if she’d just plan something, I would pay for it. Even that never happened, but my roommates sure did laugh when she tried in full view to rub my back during a movie. Then she couldn’t take a hint when I told her, in response to her asking for a hug, that I’m “reserved about such things.” (Not forever, but until due cause is established. I’m always amused by the excuses that singles come up with in order to hug each other.)

On the other hand, I was impressed with another girl who was at our place one night when I said I was experiencing a bad headache. Thirty seconds later I nearly fell out of my chair as she started massaging my neck. I’m not accustomed to that! I eventually relaxed, as she explained that a lot of headaches were caused by neck pain (to which I could give lots of credence). This didn’t have to mean anything; it was simply an act of charity. She was not afraid to treat me like she would any other guy in the apartment.

I can’t honestly give the “no respect” routine. My written responses to a survey about what guys sought in women were circulated (and not by myself) throughout the complex. Another girl stopped a group conversation once to say to me that she really liked how I obviously thought a lot before saying anything. Still another had a “reputation” in the ward, particularly for being booked for dates into the next year. She kept walking up to me and trying to engage me in conversation. Word on the streets had it that she was “tired of the typical guy.” (I was once tempted to tell a girl, “When you’re sick of the shallow guys, here’s my number.” But I thought better of it, since someone’s choice of associations can tell you a lot about them.) One day I stood at the door of her apartment and she tried to invite me in. I saw a guy in there who’d been visiting her. I knew immediately that she would marry him, and that was the right thing. Despite her insistence, I excused myself. Later on, she passed me at night and told me, “You’re one of my favorites.” This, naturally, led my mother to later ask “favorite what?”

Then there was ****, a really cute but impossibly carefree girl. The first time I tried to sit beside her, my most guileless roommate was already there. I did my best to scoot in, and he kept scooting over! I eventually got nearer her than anyone else did, in that legendary “friend” status. I still recall a beautifully sunny day on the apartment grounds, where I found her weeding. (She’d asked the management for a job.) We had one interruption, a guy walking up and playing with her hair before catching on that both of us wanted him to go away. She smiled at me more than I’d ever experienced. She told me that I reminded her of her father, because I was “kind, wise, and know everything about the Church.” When she once helped me carry something back to my apartment, my roommate (a real “dude”) gawked and asked her out on the spot, only to be turned down. I didn’t give her any trouble in that respect. We just talked, and she was always concerned about how I was doing. Once, after ward prayer, she came up beside me and walked towards a building. When someone tried to come up and talk to me, she actually sort of elbowed them out and announced, “He’s with me.” A little farther on, a guy caught up with her and invited her to look at something they’d talked about earlier. To my alarm, she followed him up some stairs. But to her eternal credit, for a refreshing awareness and honesty, she turned and asked me, “Am I confusing you?” I simply waved her on. (My mother also raised the question of what would have happened if I’d bellowed at the guy, “She’s with me.”) **** begged me to go along with her and two guys for ice cream one night. As soon as we got back, she leaned in and told me it was because she didn’t feel safe with them.

I first got in my once-upon-a-time girlfriend’s good graces by two things. First, I beat her at all three chess games in a row. She was frustrated to no end but later admitted that had it been more even she would not have been as impressed. Second, I was visiting at her apartment (having that unique facility for saying “I was in the neighborhood” when I’d come around for the purpose of visiting them) when a girl asked what the oxen in the baptistry represented. I was able to go into the tribes of Israel, the four quarters of the earth, and this statement, along with some unusual elaboration on the symbolism of D&C 58:45 and the very appropriately cross-referenced Deuteronomy 33:13-17:

The weight of the font and the water on the backs of the twelve oxen is symbolic of the burden of the children of Israel to bring salvation to the world; when this is accomplished, the Savior can present the kingdom to the Father, saying, "It is finished." (Royden G. Derrick, Temples in the Last Days [Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1987], 182)

Ah, the value of preparation! Anyway, I looked up to see her smiling at me all weirdlike.

She later told me, and I don’t believe under duress, that she’d first heard this description of President Joseph Fielding Smith when she was a young woman (without knowing it was about him), and that it was a lot like me (how I wish!!! put it down as my goal!!!). From Ethel Smith, his wife:

I have often thought when he is gone people will say, “He is a very good man, sincere, orthodox, etc.” They will speak of him as the public knows him; but the man they have in mind is very different from the man I know. The man I know is a kind, loving husband and father whose greatest ambition in life is to make his family happy, entirely forgetful of self in his efforts to do this. He is the man that lulls to sleep the fretful child, who tells bedtime stories to the little ones, who is never too tired or too busy to sit up late at night or to get up early in the morning to help the older children solve perplexing school problems. When illness comes, the man I know watches tenderly over the afflicted one and waits upon him. It is their father for whom they cry, feeling his presence a panacea for all ills. It is his hands that bind up the wounds, his arms that give courage to the sufferer, his voice that remonstrates with them gently when they err, until it becomes their happiness to do the thing that will make him happy.

The man I know is most gentle, and if he feels that he has been unjust to anyone the distance is never too far for him to go and, with loving words or kind deeds, erase the hurt. He welcomes gladly the young people to his home and is never happier than when discussing with them topics of the day—sports or whatever interests them most. He enjoys a good story and is quick to see the humor of a situation, to laugh and to be laughed at, always willing to join in any wholesome activity.

The man I know is unselfish, uncomplaining, considerate, thoughtful, sympathetic, doing everything within his power to make life a supreme joy for his loved ones. That is the man I know. (Joseph F. McConkie, True and Faithful: The Life Story of Joseph Fielding Smith [Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1971, 83-84)

(I was not nearly so appreciative of another girl who admitted going out with me would be like dating Elder Oaks. She told me that she saw potential in us--and I had that in writing--but ran away just as soon as she'd said it.)

The block quote helps somewhat at diverting things from all that rubbish about me. The nostalgia took my brain and typing fingers far from here. “I should not talk so much about myself if there were anybody else whom I knew as well” (The Works of Henry David Thoreau [Roslyn New York: Black’s Readers Service, 1942], 27-28). “One of the good sisters said to me, ‘Golden if you wouldn't talk so much about yourself, it would be a good thing.’ Well, I thought to myself, it would be a good thing if you would talk about yourself and let other people alone. I know more about myself than any other person on earth, and I am going to try to keep some of it quiet, if I can” (J. Golden Kimball, CR, Apr. 1909, 36-37).

Point in summary: I notice women as much as the next guy. It’s also possible that I notice more than the next guy. Taken to the wrong extreme, that could be a failing, but it’s also a considerable blessing. I much prefer having an intense filter to not having enough of one. Quite enough truth for one evening, eh? A lot of that truth probably should have been kept to myself.