Unwearyingness
And yet there is only one great thing, the only thing.
(Today’s post is dedicated to my father on this, his 80th birthday. Happy birthday Dad!)
Not to go all Bryan Adams 🎸on you here, dear reader, but everything I do (at least here on the Stack) I do for you 🥰
So, this is what I think of when I think about you (which I do every day, in a non-creepy way 😏):
That you are good. So good. So “fearfully and wonderfully made.”
That you love Jesus and want to learn more about Him and be more like Him.
That you know the loneliness of walking with Jesus, and that sometimes that can be a long walk.
That you have hard days (and sometimes hard weeks and months and even years).
That sometimes you wonder if you are doing things wrong.
That you are probably tired right now and probably often and maybe most of the time.
Let’s spend a moment on that last topic, yes?
21,170.
That’s roughly the amount of days & nights I’ve spent so far on earth (I’ll save you the math…I’m 57+💪🏼)
That’s lots of practice trying to fall or stay asleep, and yet I seem to be worse at it than ever.
What keeps keeping me up at night?
Questions. So many questions. (Far too many of them and not interesting/important enough to list here.)
But I think it’s more than just a busy brain. It’s a restlessness and anxiety about the chasm between what I know and what I do. Between what my head believes about Jesus and what my heart can’t seem to hold onto for more than a fleeting instant.
I am weary because I am afraid.
Blessed art thou, Nephi, for those things which thou hast done; for I have beheld how thou hast with unwearyingness declared the word, which I have given unto thee, unto this people. And thou hast not feared them, and hast not sought thine own life, but hast sought my will, and to keep my commandments.
And now, because thou hast done this with such unwearyingness, behold, I will bless thee forever; and I will make thee mighty in word and in deed, in faith and in works; yea, even that all things shall be done unto thee according to thy word, for thou shalt not ask that which is contrary to my will.
Helaman 10:4-5
In these two verses, the only two in all of scripture that use the word “unwearyingness,” I see a path. But in the words of Hal Eyring’s mother Mildred when he questioned why things seemed to be so hard much of the time, “If you are on the right path, it will always be uphill.” There is a road to get from weary to “all in,” but a leisurely stroll it’s not.
Some important context. Nephi, like his namesake, faced stiff opposition to his attempts at building a community of believers. Among his enemies were those who wished him dead. He felt great sorrow over the calamity he saw coming but couldn’t prevent. And he wished for “better days” when people were “easy to be entreated” and “slow to…do iniquity.” In reality, things likely weren’t much different for this Nephi then they had been for the first Nephi. Both of them knew the loneliness of leadership.
Just before Nephi heard these powerful promises, he had been rejected and was left alone, “much cast down” (Helaman 10:3). I have no first-hand knowledge of this, of course, but I imagine that Nephi wasn’t sleeping all that great at the moment. Things weren’t going well and he clearly felt the burden of watching his flock go astray.
And then, as he was walking home and pondering upon the things that had happened and what he had been shown, “a voice came unto him” (v. 3).
The first thing God told Nephi was that He saw him. He saw his “unwearyingness.” And what exactly did that mean?
Nephi wasn’t afraid of others and what they might say or think about or do to him.
He hadn’t “sought [his] own life.” That’s a big one for me. I’m in my own head way too much and thinking about myself far more than I should be. “Putting off the natural man” surely includes not succumbing to self-centeredness. Easy to say. Much harder to do.
He was seeking God’s will.
He was a commandment-keeper.
What was Nephi feeling in this moment? Rejuvenated, I’m guessing. Filled with purpose and joy and clarity. In verse 12 we read that after this experience “he did stop and did not go unto his own house,” but instead sought out those who had just barely rejected him to try, yet again, to call them to repentance. He was revived. The assurance that he was known and seen and trusted transformed Nephi from being cast down to being anxiously engaged.
There is a hint of intimacy between Nephi and the Savior here that lies at the root of what I “yet lack.” I don’t think you have an experience like this with Jesus if your relationship is a casual one. I can’t imagine the Lord making the kind of promises He made to Nephi (including that “all things shall be done unto thee according to thy word.” Just…wow.) I think I’m asking “what” here? What was the reason for Nephi’s unwearyingness? What was the source of his capacity to push through the stiff opposition he faced? I think it’s because he understood the relationship between the vine and the Branch.
I don’t want to imply here that I’m in some constant state of dragging myself around, just trying to survive. Like anyone else, I have good days and not-so-good ones. I have moments of “Son-light” and moments of shadow. What Nephi’s experience teaches me is that proximity is everything. If I’m feeling weary, there is a restorative measure I can take. It is to get closer to the one who took upon Himself my weaknesses, my worries, and my weariness. In King Benjamin’s words, Jesus’s sufferings for me included “pain of body, hunger, thirst, and fatigue (emphasis added) even more than man can suffer” (Mosiah 3:7). And He is also the one that has invited each of us to “Come unto [him], all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28.)
The Savior knows all about being weary; much more than I will ever begin to understand. He values persisting through mental, spiritual, and physical exhaustion and walks with me every step of the way.
So, here’s what I know:
When I make time to search for Him in the scriptures, I find rest.
When I stop listing and start listening as I pray, I feel restored.
When I don’t let “too busy” keep me from visiting my neighbor, somehow the heaviness is taken.
When I take my questions and heartaches and “why’s” and “why not’s” and deepest longings to the temple and let Him pull me close and whisper the most perfect things, my weariness is taken.
Loving Him. Loving like Him. Loving what He loves. These are the ways that all weariness fades.
These are my way to unwearyingness.
Have you ever seen the movie Never Cry Wolf, based on the book by the same name? It’s a favorite of mine. At the very end of the movie, just before the credits, an excerpt from an old Inuit song scrolls on the screen.
I think over again my small adventures.
My Fears.
Those small ones that seemed so big.
For all the vital things I had to get and to reach.
And yet there is only one great thing,
The only thing.
To live to see the great day that dawns
And the light that fills the world.
Jesus is everything that is lovely and true and light. He gives the finest gifts. And no matter how tired, no matter how spent, no matter how weary I may be, He is “the light that fills the world.”
Next week on The Bright & Morning Star
Something Christmas-related. How is it only two weeks away? I hope you are good and feel seen by Him, even in such tumultuous times. Merry Christmas, beloved ones.
This might be my favorite post so far. Maybe the message but also the messenger . Love you the most