WHAT WOULD LIFE BE LIKE WITHOUT THE FREEDOM TO CHOOSE?
Do you ever feel like you are locked into the same lifestyle or like you never have any choices? In reality you make many choices every day, not only between good and evil but also in tiny, ordinary things. Do we understand how blessed we are to have our agency? There are many choices we make each day that we seldom even think about. It’s routine, it’s habit, and it’s just the way we are. Sometimes it is a source of frustration, like when we live with a roommate or spouse and their choices are different from ours. But what if we had no choice?
This may seem like nonsense because we take choice for granted. Let’s name a few of the choices that may apply to you and see where they take us. You live in the same size and type of brown house that everyone has. You get up in the morning on the left side of bed at 6AM, it’s the only choice there is. You brush your teeth with the same brand of toothpaste everyone else has. There is only one brand.
You shower every other day; it’s your only choice. You get dressed in the same type of blue uniform that everyone else wears. You eat your mush at 7AM, it doesn’t matter whether you like it or not, you have no other choice.
You drive a small, white car, just like the rest of the population and must at your job by 8AM. You work at a factory making toothpaste. You eat your hamburger every day at noon, at your half hour lunch break, like it or not. The toothpaste factory closes at 5PM. You drive home using the same route you used to get to work, no choices. You eat your fried chicken at 7PM and must be in bed by 9PM and you do this day after day after day. What about all the little things you do between those times? They must be the same, regardless of your personal feelings; after all, you are left without choice. Sound ridiculous, dull and boring?
Aren’t you glad things are really not that way? They are not because agency is a blessing and a gift from our Heavenly Father, who loves us.
PIONEER TENACITY
The following stories are paraphrased from a Mormon Channel presentation:
Do we ever think about the details of privation that accompanied the Mormon Pioneers as they headed west? Movies and legends combine to make the arduous journeys of the 1800s seem almost less difficult than they really were. We think about it and try to experience a tiny glimpse of what it must have been like when we participate in stake treks to places like Martin’s Cove, or by reading from the journals of ancestors, and are left surprised that so many arrived safely to the Salt Lake Valley.
Wind, dust, snakes, mosquitoes, skunks, wolves, and Indians were just a few of the many challenges faced by the weary travelers heading for the setting sun. During their day, many did not consider themselves pioneers, unless they were in the vanguard company. Some were seasoned travelers but others came from Europe and other locales that had never driven oxen, pitched a tent, slept on the ground, cooked out of doors and a myriad of tasks. They learned as they went. One man, who had lost his sense of smell, years before, longed to bring home a meal for his family, like others in the camp who hunted for deer or buffalo.
He walked a few yards from the campsite and discovered a black and white furry animal and beat it to death with his cane. He then threw the animal over his shoulder and attempted to walk into camp with it but was chased away when the smell warned of his approach.
Mosquitoes were so thick that children cried themselves to sleep at night and then couldn’t open their eyes in the morning because their eyelids had been bitten so many times that their eyes were swollen shut. One young man said that on his journey he had seen hundreds of Indians, thousands of buffalo and billions of mosquitoes.
Women bore their children on the trail. One woman gathered buffalo chips in her apron and then later used that same apron to carry her baby back to camp. She was ready to move west the next day despite her recent childbirth. Even if she was fortunate enough to ride, there were no shocks or rubber tires on the wagon. It has been said that pioneer men were strong but women were amazing.
It was not uncommon to hold little children that were too tired to walk on the shoulders of men as they trudged through sand. We often think of pioneers needing help from an angel as they plowed through snow but many tell of angelic help when pulling through sand while carrying a child. Dust was so thick that people as well as oxen would often be blinded. Tears would form on man and beast to help clear the eyes so that sight could be restored. Some travelers even wore goggles.
Many Scandinavians made the journey and at a church meeting a Brother Peterson was asked to say the closing prayer. Ten men stood up and the requestor said, “No. I mean Peter Peterson.” Four men sat down.
Despite all the hardships, many Saints arrived stronger in the faith than when they began. Adversity kindled a fire in their souls that burned brighter, forging a mighty testimony that lasted the rest of their lives.
VIETNAM MIRACLE (This is based on a true story from another person).
Our military outposts were divided up into small units in support of the South Vietnamese Army (SVA). We had been in country for almost six months and had lost many men because the North Vietnamese Army (NVA) was continually harassing us by day and by night. The weather was so humid that we continually were drenched in our own sweat. The slightest cut or abrasion, if not kept dry, would blossom into a raging infection. Insects thrived, weapons jammed, morale was so low that the only thing that kept us alive was the thought of God, family and country, in that order.
We all had short timer calendars to count the days of our DEROS or date of return from overseas station. I had little hope that I would get out of that mess alive. Choppers were sporadically bringing in supplies, replacement soldiers and then ferrying off the dead and wounded. Most of what we ate was canned food, vitamin fortified “C” rations. They were nauseating but better chow than the enemy ate. If we were hungry enough we’d bolt it down despite the taste. Our mission was supposed to be guarding the perimeter of the base camp from the outside of the perimeter but we were always moving, taking the same ground many times a month.
My Dad used to tell me that in WWII they would move into a new area, set up a defensive position, bring in reinforcements to hold that position and then move out taking further positions until the entire area was secured. Our commanders did not agree with this tactic because we needed to remember that we were a guest in that country. What did that mean anyway? Are we trying to win or just stay on the move?
We found that the SVA were almost totally useless as fellow soldiers on our side. They had little training, except what we gave them and seemed to have almost no motivation to fight or defend, perhaps because the people we were fighting were really their fellow countrymen.
It was about this time that we received a new commander by the name of Lieutenant Colonel Campbell (not his real name). Right away we knew something was up. He was not like any officer I have met before or since. It was almost like he walked with God. He really cared about us and yet we were strangers. He would go by himself into his tent every morning and evening and pray for us. He visited with all his soldiers, talked to us and wanted to get to know us, not in an informal way but with genuineness, as if we were all his sons. It was disconcerting and at first we thought it was all for show. We were to learn otherwise.
He changed our fighting tactics. Instead of smaller units, moving on the outskirts of the base camp, he combined every two units into one and surrounded us with guard towers and defensive sandbags. Air strikes were used with greater accuracy. We built bunkers that served as safe havens for the wounded and during times of shelling. We further dug deep trenches around our defensive positions and threw up large banks of earth which made it difficult for the enemy to overrun our perimeter.
Because of these and other defensive steps, our casualties began to drop significantly, so much so that in several major encounters, many of us were wounded but no one died. This was astonishing to similar units in other locales that sustained heavy damage in like situations. I was shipped out before Colonel Campbell left but I am sure I would have never lived to see my next birthday had it not have been for him.
