No Coincidences

Tag: sacrifice

  • Suffering, a Moment, a Breakdown

    Suffering, a Moment, a Breakdown

    I want to share a story that just happened to me.

    I don’t know why it happened. I don’t know what happened. That’s why I’m writing it. Maybe writing it down will help me to understand.

    It’s 1/2/25 at 9:00 in the morning. It’s my first day back at work in something like 2 weeks. I’m driving to a client’s office. I’m listening to a podcast called Y Religion. They’re discussing 50 relics of the restoration; 50 items from the time the gospel of Jesus Christ was being restored.

    They mention a microphone used by Spencer W. Kimball. I love Spencer W. Kimball. He is one of my favorite prophets.

    As I’m writing this, I’m remembering what they talked about before this microphone. What they talked about before this microphone was the original manuscript of Jesus the Christ written by James E. Talmage. They emphasized that the writing of Jesus the Christ, one of the most impactful books of my life, was inspired by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints attempting to re-emphasize its focus on what is most important: Jesus Christ.

    The podcasters said sometimes the culture needs to be reminded of what our most important focus is.

    I wondered if the Church needs that reminder again today.

    I remember thinking that President Russell M. Nelson, a prophet today, is trying.

    They talked about the microphone. Brad Wilcox, the provider of one of my all-time favorite talks/speeches/dissertations (His Grace is Sufficient) started talking about Spencer W. Kimball. He shared a story from when he was on his mission and for the first time would hear a radio broadcast of General Conference. Back in those days, certain countries only got Conference in written word months after Conference completed. Brad Wilcox as a young missionary was disappointed when the radio turned on and he realized it was just a translator. Of course it was a translator. The message needed to be broadcast to this particular area in Spanish.

    Then, he said, Spencer W. Kimball came on the radio with his telltale, well-known scratchy voice. The small group of saints asked Brad, “Who is that????”

    He replied, and as he told the story he choked up, “That is the prophet of God.”

    On the podcast, they then started to discuss the sacrifice that Spencer Kimball went through – losing his vocal cords and continuing to preach, speak regularly, and guide God’s church.

    I thought about that sacrifice.

    What have we gone through?

    Have we lost our vocal cords and then been asked to continue to preach?

    I thought about that sacrifice. I thought about that prophet of God. I thought about that voice.

    And while I was driving in the car, I was crying. I didn’t even know I was crying. I didn’t know why I was crying. I still don’t know why I was crying.

    I started thinking about why I was crying.

    They talked about the kindness of Spencer W. Kimball and how losing his vocal cords made him so gentle, so empathetic to the suffering of others.

    I thought about my current calling as Elders Quorum President.

    I thought about how much I fall short in that calling.

    I thought about telling my quorum that I’m a bad ministering brother. But I try. And asking them, who are also bad ministering brothers, to also try.

    I thought about all the suffering I’ve learned about in our ward since becoming president. I thought about all the loneliness and sickness and illness and suffering and heartache.

    I thought about my daughters.

    I thought about the client I was about to see and some of the personal things he had told me about his family when he invited me to a Suns game once.

    I thought about the suffering of his family.

    I thought about all the suffering my daughters would have to endure in this life.

    And I asked why.

    And I cried harder.

    And I reminded myself of why.

    We know the why. Luckily, I know the why. I’ve written about it here a hundred times.

    And then I pulled up to a light. And I looked directly at a homeless man. And I thought about giving him a dollar. And I wondered if the light was going to change. And I thought about how I didn’t want him to have to limp over to me for a dollar. Then he started to limp over to me. And I let him pass. And I let him walk back by me. And I wondered if he had a drug addiction.

    And I thought about all the suffering in the world.

    And I cried.

    I wrote this. And I still don’t know quite what it means.

    I know the world is going to get a lot harder and there’s going to be a lot of suffering.

    And I’m going to ask why, despite knowing the answer.

    And I realize that sometimes knowing why will make it easier, maybe even help, and sometimes, maybe it won’t.

    And I worry about my daughters.

    And I worry about this world.

    And I worry about all the lost and lonely people.

    And I wonder why.

    And I want Jesus Christ to come back so it can stop. I want to help. But my efforts seem so small and fruitless. I’m a bad ministering brother and a bad Elders Quorum President and I wonder, I can’t possibly be who God needs in this position now.

    And I feel so small.

    And I just want Christ to come back and fix it all.

    But I know before that happens this all has to get a lot harder. It has to get so much harder.

    And I worry.

    And I have faith.

    And I wonder if my faith is enough.

    And I cry.

    So I wipe my eyes and blow my nose, hoping the client can’t tell that I’ve been crying. And I go about my day, always with why in the back of my mind.

  • What is Love? And Fatty Steak Pieces

    What is Love? And Fatty Steak Pieces

    Short post.

    I was eating leftovers from a meal Beth made the other night. It was a steak, vegetables, and rice bowl. I was eating the leftovers and every piece of meat I was getting was half fat. I don’t like fatty meat. It’s one of the few foods I don’t like. I started picking out the fatty pieces of meat from my bowl and realized half of them were thus afflicted.

    The strange part was we’d just had this meal and I didn’t remember any fatty pieces.

    I asked Beth, “When you scooped up my bowl the other night, did you intentionally scoop up the non-fatty pieces?”

    She replied that she had.

    That is love.

    Love is choosing the non-fatty pieces of meat when scooping up your husband’s plate because you know they don’t like it.

  • Letter to Grandpa Q

    Letter to Grandpa Q

    My grandpa Stan recently turned 90 years old. For his birthday, all his children and grandchildren wrote him a letter. This is the letter I wrote to my grandpa.

    Grandpa,

    One of my earliest memories was my first and only trip to Grandaddy Lake. It was horrible. Keep in mind, I was maybe 4. It rained the whole time. It was so miserable. But I still remember it.

    I remember hiking back after the long week there. It was raining. I’m not sure it ever stopped raining. I was walking through mud, and I was crying. Everyone else was hiking with big backpacks for the trip. I had my little toy backpack on, and I was crying about it, about the hike, about the rain, about the mud, about my miserable existence.

    You got frustrated with me. It was the only time I recall seeing you frustrated/angry/mad. I cried more.

    My dad took my little backpack. I still have a memory of my dad shirtless, hiking in the rain. He was hiking now with his huge backpack on his back and my little backpack on his shoulder.

    I looked around at all my aunts, uncles, you, and my dad and realized no one else was complaining. Everyone was cold, wet, and frustrated, but no one was complaining.

    This core memory has stuck with me. I like to think it impacted me and in some minor, or possibly major ways, has shaped me.

    The Las Vegas Quackenbush clan (my family) has never been to Granddaddy Lake. We have our modern-day equivalent. We now go to the theme park Six Flags Magic Mountain multiple times a year. It is a requirement that any future in-law go through the gauntlet of a 12-hour day at Magic Mountain before they can even think about being accepted into the family.

    When Beth came to Six Flags with us for the first time, we were all so happy because there was a high heat warning. The lines were great! Meanwhile, we almost died. My roommate came with us to Six Flags once. He’s sworn to never return.

    I now have two daughters that I joke, tongue-in-cheek, about needing to remove as much Cannon from (Beth’s maiden name) and insert as much Quackenbush into as possible.

    This is the Grandaddy Lake mindset. More importantly, this is what it is to be a Quackenbush. I take pride in my name.

    I take pride in you.

    I take pride in our pioneer roots.

    I take pride in the foundation of faith I have been afforded.

    I take pride in what you and Grandma built, for me.

    I take pride in what you and Grandma built, for my family, for my daughters.

    I want to thank you for choosing an eternal companion of from among the devoted young women of The Kingdom. That is a line from my patriarchal blessing. I was able to choose an eternal companion who is an amazing mother, wife, and person because of you. I am able to raise my daughters with a confidence in things eternal because of you and Grandma. I am able to see the bigger picture, endure, have faith, progress, learn, grow, and get better, all with an understanding of who I am and where I come from, because of you and Grandma.

    I don’t know what I did to earn the position in the family I’ve been given, but I thank you.

    I look forward to one day having a life review. I hope to see some or all of your life review and Grandma’s life review. I look forward to one day seeing all the sacrifices endured and trials met head on by Grandma and yourself so that I could have the mortal experience I have been afforded. You and Grandma are a foundation. You created a foundation. In this life I’ll never fully understand all you went through and struggled with so I could have what I have. One day, I hope to understand. On that day, I will stand, and I will kneel, and I will thank my progenitors, you, for what you did for me. We all will.

    Thank you. We love you. We are grateful for you.

    With all the love you deserve, and I can give,

    Brayden

  • The Higher Law and the End of Blood Sacrifice

    The Higher Law and the End of Blood Sacrifice

    Christ fulfilled the law. This was why blood sacrifices were done with after His last and great sacrifice. But what does this mean, practically?

    The Israelites practiced God’s law which was a law of reparations. You take out the eye of an enemy maliciously, you take out his eye. Someone kills your brother, you kill him. The problem with this is obvious. Blood begets blood and when does it end?

    This is why the Israelites practiced the law of sacrifice. They took an animal, that had nothing to do with bloodshed, or theft, or lying, and instead of continuing the constant cycle of reparations, they sacrificed the blood of the animal. This is obviously what Christ represented when He died on the cross. He paid the price for all our sins, because we are incapable of paying such a price.

    This is why Christ preached a higher law. No longer was it an eye for an eye but it was turn the other cheek. No longer was it sue for damages but give your second coat. Christ’s point was that after He died for our sins, animal sacrifices would be done away with, there was no more putting your sins off on a goat. Christ was teaching the end of strife. Someone wrongs you, forgive them and move on. This put an end to the vicious cycle of payback and recompense.

    Who was the greatest example ever of this? Jesus Christ never asked us to do something He didn’t do first, when He was up on the cross, and forgave those who had scourged, beaten, and crucified Him.

    But of course, justice still had to be paid for a wrong done. That’s where Christ came in, paying the ultimate and last sacrifice with His blood. So, we flawed human beings, who sometimes commit wrong without even meaning to, can be forgiven. This is the miracle of what Christ did for us, the miracle of His atonement, the miracle of His forgiveness, and the miracle of the higher law.

  • The Lesser Talked about Sacrifice of the Atonement

    The Lesser Talked about Sacrifice of the Atonement

    One of the tragedies the trinitarian belief (that God, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit are one being) has taken away is appreciation and understanding of God’s part of the sacrifice in the Atonement.

    “For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten son.”

    Doesn’t mean much if there isn’t actually a God giving up his Only Begotten Son, right?

    We talk so much about the sacrifice that Jesus Christ did for us, for good reason. His Atonement paved the way for us to return home. He suffered, bled, felt the crushing pain of a universe of sickness, pain, and sin, and died for us. He did that. There’s reason we talk about Him. He is the only way to God, our Heavenly Father.

    Speaking of God’s part in that sacrifice shouldn’t diminish what Christ Himself did for us.

    I’m a father.

    The other day Ivy was on the top of the couch and fell backward to the cushion. She wasn’t hurt at all. She was fine, but try telling her that. She was scared, and she was screaming and freaking out. She was fine, but she was still upset.

    Now, if Ivy was really hurt, if she fell from the cushion down to the floor, I would have moved so fast. I would have been there. As it was, I stayed in my seat and tried to tell her how awesome a fall that was.

    If Ivy or Sage are in real pain, I’m there.

    I can’t imagine the torment, the suffering, the heart-wrenching anguish of watching my children suffer. I can’t imagine it.

    God can.

    God watched His Son be spit upon, scourged, beaten, slapped, ridiculed, and finally nailed to a cross to die a slow, painful, and seemingly humiliating death.

    Words from Jeffery R. Holland in a 1999 talk:

    “I am a father, inadequate to be sure, but I cannot comprehend the burden it must have been for God in His heaven to witness the deep suffering and Crucifixion of His Beloved Son in such a manner. His every impulse and instinct must have been to stop it, to send angels to intervene-but He did not intervene. He endured what He saw because it was the only way that a saving, vicarious payment could be made for the sins of all His other children from Adam and Eve to the end of the world. I am eternally grateful for a perfect Father and His perfect Son, neither of whom shrank from the bitter cup nor forsook the rest of us who are imperfect, who fall short and stumble, who too often miss the mark” (“The Hands of the Fathers,” Ensign, May 1999, 14).

    What I realize is that God knew His Son. He knew Jesus Christ was going to fulfill His destiny. He knew what His Son, Jesus Christ, would do on the cross. LIke me on the couch, knowing Ivy was ultimately going to be OK, God knew Jesus Christ would be OK. He knew that Christ so loved us, that He would suffer it all for us. Why did God do it though? Why didn’t He send angels to intervene? Wouldn’t that be what a loving Father would do? He didn’t intervene because He so loved the world. The world is us. He loves us so much that He was willing to suffer this pain of watching His Son suffer. The ultimate sacrifice, of Father and Son.

    If that doesn’t bring you to tears, I don’t know what will.

    God loves you.

    I don’t know how it all works. I don’t know how the celestial kingdom, heaven, a place of infinite joy and peace, can also have weeping. But I know that my God weeps.

    Don’t let us forget that God suffered that day too. He suffered an anguish hardly imaginable. The anguish of watching His only begotten in pain.

    In the case of the suffering of Jesus Christ, the payment had to be made to save us. In some grand cosmic mystery that I don’t yet understand, we can’t return home until we are perfected through the blood of Christ. God allowed that sacrifice, and contributed His sacrifice, because he loves the world. He loves us.

    I believe God does weep over the evil, heartache, pain, suffering, and sadness in this world. He weeps over sin. He weeps over us.

    But ultimately, we have fallen to a soft cushion. We are safe. We are secure. We are secure in the blood of Jesus Christ. We are secure only because of Jesus Christ and what He did for us.

    While God wants to come comfort us, He doesn’t stop suffering because we’re still on the couch cushion. And if it helps us grow, does that make it any easier for Him to watch us suffer? Maybe. I knew Ivy wasn’t really suffering. I knew it was temporary fear she felt. I was always there for her.

    This is my reminder to you: God is there for you. He will never leave you. He is always aware of your hardships. In addition to God, Jesus Christ isn’t only there with your hardships, He already felt your hardships. He understands it all, because He felt it all.

    God loves you. Jesus Christ loves you. They love you so much that they sacrificed for you. Don’t forget that. It will give you strength.