The Foggy Lens of Personal Experience

Ok, I've been thinking again. Consider yourself warned.

I went to institute last night and we were talking about the first few chapters of Genesis. We got to the part about Noah. The instructor showed this picture:

He asked what this was a picture of and several people in the class blurted out that this was Noah preaching to the people of the upcoming flood. He then joked that when he was a missionary he showed this picture during a discussion and asked the same question and a child answered that this was a guy telling a story of how big the fish he had caught was. Everyone laughed. This is where I started thinking. Was the child wrong? From his experience, that's what the picture meant to him. As adults, we look at the partially constructed ark in the background, factor in that we're in a religious class, see the people laughing, and make the judgement that this must be Noah. Is someone out there wishing that we would see more? Just like we thought it was funny that all the little child could see was a "fish tale", is our perception of this picture limited by the perspective of our personal experience?

This got me thinking about more things than I can count. Is there a principle here? Does this apply to pretty much everything we do? I believe it does. Here's an example of my logic:

I'm currently reading a book about the Willie and Martin Handcart companies. It's called "The Price We Paid" and it's fantastic. I recommend it. Anyway, most of us know the general story of these ill-fated companies. As I was reading last night, this principle jumped out to me again. Having run out of food and freezing, the companies were dependent on the rescue teams that had been sent from Salt Lake to aid them. Many miracles occurred in conjunction with these events. I want to focus on one that made me cry.

The rescue teams left Salt Lake with 14 wagons full of food and supplies. The Handcart companies were roughly in the middle of Wyoming. Winter was coming on, and winter on the high plains of Wyoming is even more bitter. The handcart companies had run out of food and many had died and others were on death's doorstep. The rescue team travelled as quickly as they could to reach these companies, still not fully realizing the trouble they were in. At one critical point, Captain Grant (the leader of the rescue team) instructed several wagons to set up a checkpoint of sorts and wait there for the handcart companies to get there. The rest of the rescue team would travel ahead and meet them. This checkpoint company would provide much needed assistance for the last leg of the journey.

A few days after being left to establish the checkpoint, a winter storm hit the rescuers. They hunkered down and tried to stay warm. The other rescuers did eventually meet up with the handcart companies and finally realized the gravity of their situation. Captain Grant realized the divine origin of President Brigham Young's counsel to set up a checkpoint. Having done what they could for the Willie company, the rescuers continued on to find the Martin company, roughly 100 miles behind. During the time, the checkpoint rescuers wondered what was taking so long.

Winter storms had left a lot of snow and temperatures were sub-zero nearly all the time. After about three weeks of waiting in the bitter cold, most of the checkpoint rescuers came to the conclusion that the handcart companies had either stopped someplace for the winter, or had died along the trail. They determined to go back to Salt Lake. They tried to persuade all of the remaining checkpoint rescuers to go with them. One man, though, Reddick Allred, would not hear it. He had been asked by his Priesthood leaders to stay and he intended to do it.

Reddick Newton Allred

The story of Reddick Allred is especially interesting. The day after the rescue party left Salt Lake, Reddick felt an unusual pain in his chest and side. He had pleurisy. This is an inflammation around the lungs that makes every inhalation extremely painful. Being only a day from Salt Lake, he could have turned around and gotten the rest required to get better. He didn't, though.

The rest of the checkpoint rescuers left the checkpoint and headed back to Salt Lake with their wagons and supplies. Not only did they leave, but they met 77 other rescue wagons on the trail that they persuaded to turn around and abandon the rescue mission on their way back. Reddick Allred stayed. When the handcart companies arrived at his checkpoint, hundreds of lives were saved by the provisions and supplies he was able to give them. He couldn't relieve all their suffering, but he did enough to save hundreds of them.

I'm sure that during those freezing, lonely weeks on high plains of Wyoming, Reddick Allred wondered if the handcart companies had indeed stopped for the winter. What amazes me about this story, though, is that despite all logical reasoning, Reddick Allred refused to limit his view to his personal perspective. He trusted that someone could see more than him. He believed that the instruction he had been given came from people who were called by God. This belief guided his actions when every bit of logic seemed to say the opposite. Surely he knew that staying in the frozen wilderness for weeks with pleurisy was dangerous. Of course he could reason that going back provided him the best chance of survival. Despite all the evidence to the contrary, though, he trusted.

His diligence in following the counsel of his leaders saved the lives of hundreds of people. How do you think those who left felt when they heard of this story? How do you think they felt when they met the handcart pioneers who had lost loved ones and frozen body parts during those fateful weeks?

There is power in obedience, even when you don't completely understand the request. Trust that someone does. Believe that maybe you can't see everything. Maybe your personal experiences are limiting your view. Maybe you are looking through the foggy lens of personal experience.