“The scriptures are laid before thee, yea, and all things denote there is a God; yea, even the earth, and all things that are upon the face of it, yea, and its motion, yea, and also all the planets which move in their regular form do witness that there is a Supreme Creator” (Alma 30:34).
It is here that we learn that all things denote that there is a God. Everything around us testifies to us of the existence of a Supreme Creator either through directly reflecting his relationship or through outlining principles of the plan of salvation (which He is the center of).
The earth’s revolution around the Sun, and our constant dependence upon it for light and life, can help remind us of the brilliance of His life and light and our constant dependence upon Him. The times and seasons as they role from Fall to Winter, than from Spring to Summer, reflects the plan in its entirety through the simple resemblance of the Fall of Adam to the death which followed and the resulting springing forth of the resurrection to a summer of rest.
Even the cycle of vegetation reflects the plan of salvation. Each tree that bears fruit has within itself the power to similarly produce countless fruit within the very seeds that grows within itself, yet this same fruit must fall from the tree, die, be planted and nurtured in order to do so. Each seed bearing fruit must die to reach its full potential towards bearing countless fruit itself.
Everything in our world denotes that there is a God, and everything is designed by his watchful eye with the intention to remind us of his plan and pattern for us. There are lessons all around us, and often in the most overlooked places.
Those who have taken basic geology courses whether in high school or college have learned about the basic weathering patterns which create natural environments which we live in. These weathering patterns can be anything from wind erosion, water erosion, and glacier thaw which can produce hills and valleys, rivers and streams, plateaus and basins. Generally speaking these processes are considered destructive processes. They either remove something and move a particle of sediment, or they entirely destroy what was once present. It can be as gentle and subtle as the rain slowly eroding a sand bed, or it can be as destructive as a volcanic eruption completely changing the face of the earth.
Yet, it is these very destructive forces which create the most beautiful scenery on the face of the earth: The Grand Canyon, the Alps, even the beach. Take a moment and think of the most beautiful natural place you have ever been or would like to be. Then take a second and consider the similarly natural forces that contributed to the beauty of that location. Think of the moments of sheer destruction that took place to make that scene what it is today.
There is a lesson here for a pattern of our lives.
One of the most beautiful locations in the United States are the Wasatch and Rocky Mountains. They are magnificent with their dipped valleys, their smoothed hills, and their vaulted and dramatic cliffs. They are composed of the results of so many natural events which took place over the course of countless years and contributed to the beauty that we partake in within only moments of gazing.
The dipped valleys were created by the steady and regular freeze and thaw process of the glaciers. The hills and rolls smoothed by the erosion of wind and rain storms over the centuries. The vaulted cliffs created violently within split seconds of an earthquake. These are all events contributing to what we now look at as beautiful, grand, and magnificent, but if we were present at those moments of destruction beauty would be the last thing from our minds.
Yet, this same pattern can be seen in our lives, if we are willing to look and acknowledge the grand purpose. Like the glaciers on the mountains, we have constant pressure and molding which allows for continued steady growth; these are our day to day activities, and the regular and habitual choices that we choose to make. Then there are moments of storms, when we see the rain clouds coming, we make our choices, and we determine how we are going to work through them – and we exercise faith in these moments acknowledging that the rain falls on the just and the unjust alike. These are not pleasant times, but usually at the end of these moments, we look back and are grateful for the moisture, the experience, and the pleasant smoothing of our characters which were a result.
Then there are events which come on suddenly, and entirely unexpected. These are not small things, but are devastating disasters in our lives. These are moments that happen in a slip second, and forever change our lives. They take place for everyone, and for everyone it is a different event with different consequences. There is no warning, and often there is no correction or fix to the problem. Like the earthquake which created the vaulting cliffs, these moments are terrifyingly real.
It is within these moments that the most sudden changes to our character are forged, and the landscapes of our lives are changed forever. The terrain is never the same, and the way we navigate through life no longer seems to apply as it had before – there are new unconceivable challenges, and a very uncertain future.
This is when faith is tried, tested, and sometimes lost. Endurance seems to fail, and strength seems to go missing. The result of these events seems to be as varied as there are fish in the sea, and that is what makes these events so difficult. The earth could settle after such an earthquake only within hours, or it could continue to reel and rail for weeks or months to come with aftershocks.
Yet, from these events, come the most striking results within our characters. Like the mountains, it is out of these violent and sudden events within our lives that we create the most beautiful and magnificent features within our souls. It is after these events that we seem to develop a deeper sense of faith, greater virtue, more knowledge, loving temperance, applied patience, brotherly kindness, godliness, increased charity, additional humility, and more determined diligence – than we otherwise would have ever been able to achieve.
Just like our perception of the mountain changes with the grandeur of the vaulted canyon, so our perception of life changes through these events. It can add moments of greater appreciation for the times when the earth does not reel, and we gain greater joy knowing the sorrow which life can carry.
We can be sure that if we were to ask the mountain about the event which created such beautiful cliffs which we currently admire, it would not respond that it was a joyous occasion or that it was painless because it understood the grand scheme of things. Similarly, there are no sudden and violent events in our lives for which we are expected to entirely smile through and pretend that we enjoy being ripped apart. But when you do look at that mountain, or that natural location, and you acknowledge to yourself that it is the destructive processes that make that location beautiful, maybe you can also look back in your own life and realize that it is those very moments within your life that had the most distinct affect upon your character and the development of who you are today.
We are beautiful not because of the absence of trials or tribulations, but because of our endurance of them. The mountain still stands tall, proud of its course, and what natural events it has lived through; and we stand in awe and admire it for everything that it has seen.
The greatest mountain that still stands today, and the greatest example of this beauty is the Rock of Ages himself. When we think on the Savior and His life, we admire His beauty because of what He did. We see His life, and admire His steps because of His trials, His temptations, and the way He lived His life. There can be no more violent and sudden actions than the events which took place the evening of that last Passover; the Garden, the betrayal, the trial, and the eventual crucifixion.
Yes, the Savior knew that those events were going to take place, but as the reader reads the accounts of those events recorded in the Gospels they get a picture of something bigger. Even the Savior himself may not of fully known exactly what was in store as he pleads that such a cup might pass from him, and eventually cries out wondering why His father had forsaken him. These moments were moments which caused such pain, but created such beauty. For so many readers it is these moments that the Savior became a man with pains and desires, becoming acquainted with great sorrows and grief, and yet suffering such for us, for love. It was through these violent moments that the most beautiful of sceneries were created: the Atonement, allowing for an unconditional Resurrection, a pure gift of love, and for the faithful, an opportunity to partake in eternal glory through divine reconciliation.
No greater pain, and no greater beauty.
It is only through our trials, through the destructive processes of our lives – the consistent day to day development, the stormy days of trial, and even the violent and unexpected changes to our landscapes – that we develop the eternal attributes upon which we can stand before the Lord and be admired for what we have become, and the beauty which he has eternally emulated both in body and spirit.
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