“O, my beloved brethren, give ear to my words. Remember the greatness of the Holy One of Israel. Don’t not say that I have spoken hard things against you; for if ye do, ye will revile against the truth; for I have spoken the words of your Maker. I know that the words of truth are hard against all uncleanness; but the righteous fear them not, for they love the truth and are not shaken.” 2 Nephi 9: 40

The most important lesson I ever learned is one of honesty, and it came from watching my parents lie to each other and themselves every day they lived together. The day they decided to separate was one of the most relieving I had ever known up until that point. We finally accepted, for the first and last time as a family, the truth about our situation—that it was toxic beyond our ability to repair. Nothing relieves an aching denial like finally gazing upon where it has left its mark, and accepting it for an ugly bruise—not a clever battle wound, or some distorted prize of primitive bravery.

Truth is not hard, and it doesn’t hurt. Being unclean, unworthy, unprepared, inadequate, and infertile to the seeds of truth when they are finally given to you—THAT is hard, and it hurts. To be entrusted with those seeds of truth despite your faults, and not to realize it until years later—THAT is hard. And it hurts. To prepare your heart to be the fertile ground for any and all truth, to weed out any and all understanding that would abort those truths before they can take root—that is hard. And it hurts! In the tree imagery scattered all throughout the Book of Mormon, you never read about the preparations that have to take place before the sowing season—leaving those with more barren ground wondering just where to begin. But like any other life-altering change in relation to the Gospel, the work begins with a strong desire and faith in Christ’s ability to do all things.

Perhaps my biggest mistake so far in the gospel has been using blanket statements like that to conceptualize Christ’s powers, however. To say that he can do all things makes it harder for me to understand just how specifically that applies to my life. He has protected me from circumstances that could have done even more damage to me than they did. He strengthened me to endure my own ignorance, and softened the blow of my graceless fall. He wept with me as every support system collapsed beneath me except for His. He celebrated with me when I cast my devils from me and I could finally feel, and sometimes even hear His voice. And now, He bears me up each day—even when I do not have the strength to take the lonely stand through which He has taught me so much about the value of my life.

Who would have thought that my little patch of earth, my one heart, could mean so much to Him? That perspective, and living up to the expectation it brings, has saved my life on more than one occasion and in more than one way. I have a firm testimony of what truth can do to save even the most lost souls from this world when it becomes a carnal prison. Because of this realization, I view this scripture as more than just another lesson learned. I want to become a living testimony of this truth through the power of my example and the righteous, redemptive power of my Redeemer.

I want to remember these things in my heart, and never be shaken. I have seen for myself that to do so is my only hope, and the only hope of the human race.