A Thought

A few years ago I was in the Young Women's Presidency in my ward. We had an amazing girls camp at Bear Lake, where among other things, we visited these great caves.

When we got to the back of the cave, we turned around and were told to hang on to the railing. The lights were turned off and we had to walk for a while in the dark. At one point we could see the light in front of us, but the railing ended before we got there. This meant we would have to walk a few steps in the dark with nothing to hang on to.

It was an experience I'll never forget. I don't like the dark. Even driving alone on a dark, empty road makes me nervous. I held on to that railing tighter than I've ever held on to anything. There was a second when the thought crossed my mind to let go, even though I knew what the result would be. I had to consciously make myself not let go.

When I had to let go, I hesitated because I knew I would be on my own. I focused completely on the light ahead, took small steps to ensure I wouldn't trip and fall, and I'm pretty sure I even held my breath.

I can't explain the relief I felt when I reached the light. I was surrounded by girls and leaders who had gotten there before I had. We smiled, hugged, laughed, talked about our journey, and waited for the rest to join us. It was good to feel safe again.

There are so many parallels to life in this experience, but I think the thing I've thought most about is why I so often feel the need to let go of the rod. I know what the consequence will be. It's not happiness or peace, rather the opposite. So why do I do it? Why in life am I not as determined to make myself hold fast to the rod, as I was in the cave?

Fortunately we have a Savior who made it possible for us to get back on track. Even the little things we do are covered by His Atonement. As I work harder to be more diligent, this fact becomes more real to me. For this I am thankful.