The Flames Shall Not Hurt Thee

I prayed for greatness

I became aware before I got too far into my third decade of life that my spiritual stature was quite dwarfed by such heroic giants as the Old Testament's Daniel and Joseph and The Book of Mormon's Mormon. I began to pray with increasing frequency and intensity that the Father make of me something useful "like Daniel, Joseph, and Mormon, if it is possible." I eventually realized that the kind of growth I contemplated had necessarily to involve great pain and trial.

I prayed for trials

From time to time I heard LDS church brothers say with tongue halfway in cheek, "Never pray for trials." This sounded fearful and lazy to me at the time. I didn't realize that it may actually have been wise. My life seemed to me to have been so incredibly idyllic that I eventually began indeed to pray for trials.

To some people, the idea of praying for trials may seem brash and arrogant, as challenging death. To others it may seem dangerous or frightening. To me at the time, it was simply my way of offering my all to the Father. In retrospect, I think that praying explicitly for trials is unwise. The Father knows what each child needs, and I think it is appropriate to ask to be made a more fitting servant. In the Father's wisdom and timing, trials will come. And if I pray to be made a more fitting servant, my mind will be focused when they come on how they might fulfill the Father's purposes.

The Father had a purpose in it all

The trials came. But the Father was true to the words of How Firm a Foundation:

  When through fiery trials thy pathway shall go,

  the rivers of sorrow shall not thee o'er flow.

  The flames shall not hurt thee, I only design