Line upon Line

My husband, Bob, and I took at trip last fall to Lyon, France. We wanted to eat at the same restaurant where we had gone nearly 40 years ago. Sure enough, it was still there, still Michelin-starred, and had yet another talented chef. It was expensive, but we decided that if we only go once every 40 years, we could amortize it- ha!

This particular restaurant starts with many small tastings of various creations, each one amazing. The very first one I sampled was so incredible I was speechless (for a minute). I felt transported, quite honestly. My head was swirling and it felt, as nearly as I could describe, like falling in love. I was swooning over a half-inch square morsel of who knows what, mixed with chocolate, cool and creamy. I could eat that thing every day for the rest of my life. Throughout the courses Bob and I marveled at every sauce, every design, every presentation. 

Our maître d’ explained that he had tried to become a chef, but kept burning everything, so he decided to work with the customers. However, the chef would occasionally call him into the kitchen, give him a taste of something new he was working on, and say, “Don’t tell me what it tastes like. Tell me how it makes you feel.”

Oh my. Yes. That is exactly the goal he had achieved when I felt flooded with warm and romantic emotions on the first bite. (Did people often faint in here? And were paramedics standing by?) 

That standard stuck with us. I took it to other restaurants and even to my own kitchen where my answer to the question was everything from “desperate” to “bored” to “intrigued” to “pleasantly surprised.” 

And then I took a sampling of homemade lemon curd with homemade whipped cream to my Seminary class. “Don’t tell me what it tastes like; tell me how it makes you feel.”  They tasted it slowly, as if really trying to describe their emotions. It was surprising how much differently they approached it than the way we usually gobble down a treat.

I explained that this is another way to approach the scriptures. Too often we read for the story, to complete a chapter, to hit a goal, or to fill our scheduled time. What if, instead, we slow down and allow ourselves to feel something? 

We’ve all come across verses we don’t understand at first. But what if we just savor that verse for a few minutes, close our eyes, and allow the Spirit to guide us? We best hear the Holy Ghost when we are listening, and revelation when we are tuned in. 

Think of your favorite scriptures. Why are they your favorite? Because they explained a story? Because they were easy to memorize? No; it’s because they touched your heart, they made you feel something. Let me share a few of my favorites and why:

D & C 123:17 Therefore, dearly beloved brethren, let us cheerfully do all things that lie in our power; and then may we stand still, with the utmost assurance, to see the salvation of God, and for his arm to be revealed.

This makes me stop scrambling to solve heartaches I cannot fix. It tells me to stand still, have faith, take a deep breath, and wait patiently for God to fix it in His own time.

And this one gives me a similar boost:

Alma 36:3 And now, O my son Helaman, behold, thou art in thy youth, and therefore, I beseech of thee that thou wilt hear my words and learn of me; for I do know that whosoever shall put their trust in God shall be supported in their trials, and their troubles, and their afflictions, and shall be lifted up at the last day.

James 1:22 But be yea doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving your own selves.

This reminds me to make my actions reflect my beliefs, to reach out and help the downtrodden, to be a ministering sister who truly loves those she visits, to attend the temple frequently, to show the Lord that I am changed by His words.

Alma 29:1 O that I were an angel, and could have the wish of mine heart, that I might go forth and speak with the trump of God, with a voice to shake the earth, and cry repentance unto every people!

This reminds me to share the gospel without hesitation. It’s become my favorite hobby to speak to people wherever I go, and follow promptings to share the greatest news since the Resurrection.

Isaiah 49:16   Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands; thy walls are continually before me.

This makes the Savior’s sacrifice so very personal, doesn’t it? He knows and watches over every single one of us. What gratitude I feel!  And when we look at strangers, we can remember that he has their name engraved on his palms as well.

This is why I so love the Doctrinal Mastery verses the Seminary students learn—once you’ve memorized them, they’re yours. And you can now call upon them anytime in your life, for strength and power.

Sometimes we read a familiar passage we’ve read dozens of times before, and we’re sure we’ve wrung every lesson from it. But have we? Might there be something hidden in there which will surprise us? 

We all know the story of Noah and the Flood, right? But in a recent Institute class, our teacher took us to the Gospel Library App, and explained that eight souls were saved by water. And what is our baptism age? Aha. Pitch, or tar, seals the Ark. And that word, kaphar, in Hebrew means “atonement,” which also seals us. Aha. The “windows” of the ark weren’t windows as we know them—Noah built a tzhar which refers to a precious stone called zhorit. This iridescent stone generates its own light, and perfectly explains how the ark was lit. You’re thinking of the Brother of Jared now, right? Aha.

It felt like joy and heart-pounding, tear-streaming enlightenment. There is still so much to uncover in our precious scriptures, so much personal revelation waiting for us. So much, truly, to feel.

Joni Hilton is the author of dozens of best-selling LDS books. She was a script writer for Music and the Spoken Word for 30 years, and has hundreds of life hacks as the Youtube Mom. Find them on her website at http://www.jonihilton.com/