Working Through Wobble

Good morning! In preparing for this devotional, I have felt a portion of the love our Heavenly Father and the Savior have for you, the young adults of the Church. I feel it as I walk across campus and see you studying, running to class, sleeping on the lawn, and fellowshipping with one another. In these moments, I marvel at the opportunities ahead for you. It’s my prayer today that you will receive the revelation the Lord has for you as you prepare for your future.

I am a professor of English here at BYU, and in a class a few years ago, some of my students observed that most literature centers on heavy, sometimes depressing conflicts. As we discussed possible reasons for this—including that literature often mirrors life—one student asked, “So is life really just one big existential crisis?”

For a moment, her question took me aback. “No!” I thought; I immediately wanted to resist. But as I gazed back at her and at the other earnest, wrinkle-free faces in the room, a Sports Center–like highlight reel of “Trials I’ve Experienced Since my Twenties” played through my mind. Amidst wonderful blessings, I also recalled heart-wrenching challenges that sometimes came “in multiple doses applied simultaneously.”¹

Now this would have been the perfect opportunity to tell my students what I will tell you today—that Jesus Christ and His Atonement offer support and strength that will sustain you through these moments. But instead I said something else. And when I finished, my students looked at me like I was a dementor who had just sucked all hope out of the room.² This moment haunts me as one of my biggest teacher fails because theirs was a sincere question—one that some of you may be wondering about as well.

You are in what some of our leaders have called the “decade of decision,”³ a condensed period of life in which you will make significant choices about your education, mission, occupation, marriage, family, and covenants—and all of these choices carry consequences for your future. These are wonderful, exciting decisions, but they are also filled with uncertainty that can lead to what my colleagues and I refer to in our research as “wobble.”

What do I mean by “wobble”? Think about the last time you fought to stay upright while slipping on ice, walking through a funhouse vortex tunnel, or crossing a bridge that swayed in the wind. Or, for those of you who have experienced an earthquake, remember the way it felt trying to find your footing as the ground literally shook beneath your feet. These moments exemplify physical wobble.

But the word wobble can also describe moments of spiritual, emotional, ideological, or religious hesitation, vacillation, uncertainty, or instability in our lives⁴—times when what once seemed unchangeable suddenly becomes unpredictable. In the United Kingdom, the phrase “having a wobble” means feeling hesitant or uncertain about a decision. For instance, you might be “having a wobble” about changing your major or moving to a new place. These disruptions cause you to pause, question, and reconsider your previous assumptions or understandings.

Does indecision or instability sound like something you have felt as you’ve wrestled with your own daily decisions or major life choices? If so, you are not alone. In our research, my colleagues and I examine how early-career teachers work through professional, personal, and ideological wobble moments as they enter the workforce. We also explore the supports that help them navigate these tenuous experiences.⁵ Typically they learn to work through their wobbles by dialoguing through the discomfort with trusted others, with texts, and with their many identities. These dialogues help them rethink their assumptions, revise their understandings, and reimagine possibilities to address the challenges they face.⁶

But these findings aren’t exclusive to new teachers; the principles for navigating wobble hold true for us as well. Although wobble can be unsettling because it calls into question things that previously seemed unchangeable, wobble moments can also be spaces of growth, stretching, and experience that make us stronger and better prepared to face future challenges. While there is no way to wobble-proof life, dialoguing about wobble moments with trusted others, with texts, and with our identities can help us find stability amidst the uncertainties and the challenges we face. And Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ will make all the difference in these moments if we let Them.

One of My Wobbles

I want to begin by sharing my own existential wobbles from my late twenties as I wrestled with some of the questions that many of you are contemplating now. In August 2008, with all my belongings loaded in the back of a Penske truck, I waved goodbye to my mom as my dad and I began a cross-country drive from Salem, Oregon, to Athens, Georgia. Only months earlier I had been teaching high school English, finishing my master’s degree, and enjoying my life. But as I thought about next steps, the counsel of President Gordon B. Hinckley, the prophet at the time, rang in my ears. He had admonished young adults who were in the midst of dating and preparing for family life to “get all of the education that you possibly can.”⁷ I loved learning, and this counsel resonated with me, so I applied to PhD programs. Through a series of events that felt like divine intervention, I received a fellowship to study at the University of Georgia.

This adventure excited me, but the farther south we drove, the more I second-guessed my choice. The changes in location, climate, culture, profession, and focus created upheaval in nearly every area of my life. I quickly found myself immersed in wonderful academic, social, and religious spaces—but also in a constant state of wobble. I questioned how concepts and theories I learned in my classes fit with gospel truths; I doubted my capability as a learner as I compared my abilities to those of my classmates. The more I read and experienced, the more I wondered if, as a woman, I could remain a member of the Church and successfully earn a PhD. As I listened to the cacophony of voices and opinions, I wondered if my choice to pursue more education meant giving up my dream of becoming a wife and mom. I found myself questioning my worth, God’s promises for me, and, for the first time, my testimony.

It’s hard now, with the advantage of almost two decades of hindsight, to convey the magnitude of this wobble. But if you think about your own life, maybe you can empathize as you consider your own moments of fear and trembling. Perhaps coming to BYU provided your catalyst for wobble, or maybe you’re wobbling about what to do after graduation. Perhaps you’re wobbling because of unanticipated changes in your major or uncertainty about a relationship. You may be wobbling because your mission wasn’t what you expected, because you can’t decide if you should serve a mission, or because you wonder what to do now that your mission is over. Maybe you’re wobbling because of mental or physical health challenges, because of a lack of money in your bank account, or even because of your testimony.

Each of our lives will likely include many minor—and perhaps a few existential—wobbles. In these moments, it’s normal and often justifiable to feel uncertain, scared, deceived, angry, or broken. But today I want to testify of a few supports that will help you as you navigate wobble. I cannot promise immediate answers, but I can promise that remembering your divine identity as a child of God, staying in dialogue with Heavenly Father and the Savior, and trusting Heavenly Father’s plan for you will bring stability and confidence as you navigate your wobble moments.

Remember Your Divine Identity as a Child of God

Questions about our identity and worth often lie at the center of wobble. My questions included “Am I smart enough to do well in this program?” “Can I succeed as an academic and a member of the Church?” and “Are my identities compatible with one another as well as with other identities that I hope to embody?” The identity questions at the heart of your wobbles may differ from mine, but whatever their focus, they lead us to interrogate who we are and what we value. We often identify ourselves by our jobs, relationships, places of origin, religion, race, gender, hobbies, callings, accomplishments, or successes. These identities help us find purpose and belonging, but none paint a complete and unchanging picture of who we are.

There is only one constant identity that reveals your true worth: child of God. Perhaps it’s for this reason that, in a worldwide devotional broadcast, President Russell M. Nelson pled with us not to replace our divine identity with other identities. He explained: “Please do not misunderstand me. I am not saying that other designations and identifiers are not significant.” Then he said: “I am simply saying that . . . worldly identifiers will never give you a vision of who you can ultimately become. They will never affirm your divine DNA or your unlimited, divine potential.”⁸

Many of you have sung “I Am a Child of God”⁹ since Primary and in doing so have repeated themes that make clear you are each a beloved spirit child of heavenly parents with “a divine nature and destiny.”¹⁰ But do you know what this really means?

I have nine nieces and nephews who regularly teach me through their examples. Last year, one of them reminded me about the importance of understanding our relationship with the Savior. As my brother Hayden was driving his then-five-year-old son to preschool one day, Finn pummeled his dad with questions. “Who’s your favorite grandpa?” and “Who’s your favorite mommy?” Finn queried as he methodically worked his way through the family. I’m the only girl among my siblings, so when Finn asked his dad to name his favorite sister, my brother only had one option: me.

But when Finn asked, “Who’s your favorite brother?” Hayden paused. How could he choose between our two brothers? So instead, Hayden said, “Jesus is my favorite brother.”

Finn became uncharacteristically quiet. Then, with his voice filled with wonder and disbelief, he asked, “Jesus Christ is my uncle?”

For the rest of the drive, Hayden tried to explain that Jesus should be everyone’s favorite brother because of what Jesus makes possible through His death, Resurrection, and Atonement. But like Finn, sometimes we don’t clearly understand our relationship with Deity or who they really are. Satan constantly tries to manipulate our perception of Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ into anything besides the all-loving, all-knowing, all-powerful beings who want what’s best for us. President Jeffrey R. Holland was right when he explained: “It can be spiritually fatal” to misunderstand who God is because this misunderstanding causes us to question our worth, deny the efficacy of the Atonement of Jesus Christ, and doubt Their promises.¹¹

Perhaps this is why President Nelson invited the young adults of the Church to “ask your Heavenly Father, in the name of Jesus Christ, how He feels about you and your mission here on earth.”¹² If you haven’t acted on this invitation yet, is there a time you might? President Nelson explained that a knowledge of this identity is important because “the way you think about who you really are affects almost every decision you will ever make.”¹³ Think for a moment: How might this knowledge impact the way you behave in situations you face right now? How might it shape the way you respond to uncertainty or how you work through wobble?

It took time, but once I quit linking my value to ever-changing characteristics and variables and instead rooted it in my identity as a child of God, I discovered that I could deal with failures or setbacks without questioning my worth. I still wobbled, but the focus of my wobbling centered on the challenges of graduate school, not my value as a person. I think this is, at least in part, what Sister Tamara W. Runia wanted us to understand when she recently explained:

Your worth is constant; it never changes. It was given to you by God, and there’s nothing you or anyone else can do to change it. Obedience brings blessings; that is true. But worth isn’t one of them. Your worth is always “great in the sight of God,” no matter where your decisions have taken you.¹⁴

Eternal worth isn’t negotiable or changing, no matter what successes or failures you experience. Your worth and the worth of those around you is inherent because of your divine identity.

I’d like to offer one more insight about how we define our worth. Sister Chieko N. Okazaki, who served in the Relief Society general presidency during the 1990s, issued a challenge that I think about often: “I promise you that . . . I will not define my life by what I do not have. . . . Will you make me the same promise?”¹⁵ This is so important because no doubt each of us has, at times, defined ourselves and our lives by what we lack—whether it be a 4.0 GPA, a date for the weekend, a high-profile calling, a dream job by graduation, a ring by spring, or acceptance into our graduate school of choice. Later this list might include other things we desperately want—such as a child, a degree, perfect health, a perfect marriage, or marriage at all. But what if today we promised each other and our Heavenly Father that we will try to stop defining ourselves—and one another—by what we don’t have? How might your identity shift if it’s based not on what you lack but on your divine identity as a child of God?

Stay in Dialogue with the Savior and with Heavenly Father

Dialoguing with trusted others helps us negotiate the challenges and uncertainty of wobble. I emphasize trusted others because not all dialogues are equal. We are bombarded by an overwhelming number of “others” on social media, and there are many traditions, ideologies, voices, and forces vying for our resources, attention, and beliefs. Which should we heed and which should we disregard? When you find yourself wobbling, it’s imperative that you turn to those who love you and who care about your eternal well-being—people to whom you can pose questions and who will raise genuine questions of their own and help you work toward solutions grounded in eternal truths.

The scriptures contain countless examples of moments when dialogues with trusted others helped people work through wobble. Think about Elizabeth and Mary when they both found themselves unexpectedly on the verge of motherhood,¹⁶ Alma and Amulek as they faced heart-wrenching challenges in their missionary service,¹⁷ or the early Saints as they built Nauvoo.¹⁸ In each case, ongoing dialogues with trusted others provided strength and answers in the face of seemingly impossible circumstances.

I feel immense gratitude for people who, in my early graduate school days, dialogued with me about my professional, personal, and spiritual wobbles. Emails with trusted mentors as well as phone calls with family and friends provided reminders of my identity and potential. As I formed relationships with colleagues and professors in my program, dialogues with them led to solutions and ideas. Members of my branch offered fellowship. And reading and pondering the writings of good men and women who wrestled with similar questions helped me push my thinking, separate culture from doctrine, and expand my vision of the gospel.

Even now as wobbles arise, dialogues with friends, family, students, and colleagues offer fresh perspectives that inform my understanding. Church leaders can provide counsel and help lift burdens. Ministering brothers and sisters often extend encouragement and support.

The generosity of these people reminds me of the way one leader described what it means to be a disciple of Christ when he stated:

To work in this church is to stand in the river of God’s love for His children. And as you serve in the church and try and help His children, some of that love will splash on you. This church is a work party, people with picks and shovels, trying to help clear a channel for the river of God’s love to reach His children at the end of the row. Single, married, gay, straight, black or white or brown or anything, any race, every class, every person, every political party, there is room for you in this church. Grab a shovel and join the team.¹⁹

Dialoguing with others is a form of discipleship that provides stability and support in wobble moments.

Amidst these dialogues, it’s imperative not to forget that our first and most important ongoing dialogue should be with the trusted others who will help in ways no earthly influence can—our Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. President Nelson has admonished us to

find a quiet place where you can regularly go. Humble yourself before God. Pour out your heart to your Heavenly Father. Turn to Him for answers and for comfort.

Pray in the name of Jesus Christ about your concerns, your fears, your weaknesses—yes, the very longings of your heart. And then listen! Write the thoughts that come to your mind. Record your feelings and follow through with actions that you are prompted to take.²⁰

He promised that as you engage in this kind of dialogue, “you will ‘grow into the principle of revelation’”²¹ and “every blessing the Lord has for you—even miracles—will follow.”²²

To really do this, we need to have “our focus . . . riveted on the Savior.”²³ Have you ever heard of target fixation? It’s the phenomenon that explains why we go where we fix our gaze. Target fixation is why skiers, mountain bikers, and motorcyclists sometimes plow directly into the trees, rocks, and other obstacles they try so hard to miss. In each of these instances, target fixation leads to disaster because their eyes are focused somewhere other than on their intended destinations.

Similarly, in our lives, focusing too much on anything besides the Savior can lead to peril. Part of my graduate school wobbles occurred because my focus was fixed on others’ beliefs about my potential, abilities, and choices—but this only led to more wobble. Even fixing my gaze on righteous desires became problematic because when my best efforts didn’t yield the blessings I sought, I wondered if God was angry at me and was holding me hostage for past mistakes or if I wasn’t worthy of certain blessings. But that’s not how our Heavenly Father and the Savior work; that’s not who They are. Eventually I realized that all I could control was where I focused, and instead of focusing on the struggle or on the blessings I wanted, I needed my focus to be riveted on Christ. When I did that—sometimes having to literally “look unto [Him] in every thought”²⁴—my situation changed dramatically, though not in the ways I anticipated. I wanted Him to change my circumstances, but instead He changed my heart, desires, strength, and understanding.

No matter your wobble, I encourage you to stay in dialogue with Heavenly Father and the Savior. Act on President Nelson’s invitation to understand what each of Christ’s names means personally for you,²⁵ and discover who Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ really are. You will obtain the blessings that President Nelson promised and your confidence in Heavenly Father and the Savior will increase.

Trust That Heavenly Father Has a Plan for You

This leads me to my next point: As you encounter the wobble moments that will inevitably come, you can find stability by trusting in Heavenly Father, believing that He has a plan for you, and seeking after it.

Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf described how we can coauthor our plan with the Lord when he explained:

Please ask your Heavenly Father for blessings and guidance. Share with Him your hopes, dreams, and desires. But in doing so, make sure that you are not trying to get Him to see things your way. Ask Him to open your eyes to see things His way. That’s when the answers start to flow. . . .

Answers to your prayers will come. . . . Perhaps not your way, but certainly His way. Sometimes they come through a scripture, a sacred feeling, or the words of a trusted person, but come they will.²⁶

Perhaps studying your patriarchal blessing will help you consider possibilities for your life. In addition to the scriptures, you might consider seeking “out of the best books words of wisdom,”²⁷ including great fiction and nonfiction. Some neuroscience research suggests that the stories we consume in books—more than those in movies or TV—become a part of the way we make sense of the world as we take up their plots and use them to interpret our own experiences.²⁸ This adds additional insight to President Thomas S. Monson’s statement that “we are the product of all we read, all we view, all we hear and all we think”²⁹ as we work out possibilities for our lives.

Elder Uchtdorf also reminded us that while sometimes God gives us a specific plan or warns us against dangers, there are times when we may not receive detailed answers to important decisions. “Multiple ‘right’ answers” might exist, but “sometimes it just doesn’t matter to the Lord what you decide as long as you stay within the fundamental covenants and principles of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ.”³⁰ This agency can be both empowering and frustrating because, if you are like me, you crave a clearly defined path. In these moments, wobble can result from being required to trust the process without knowing where the path will lead. But the Lord won’t leave us alone.

I love running, and in the fall of 2019, I signed up to run the Boston Marathon. I started training the following January, but in March 2020, COVID-19 put a halt to almost everything—including this storied race. When it became clear there would be no marathon that year, the organizers offered us the chance to participate virtually. To be eligible for the T-shirt—and I really wanted the T-shirt—each participant needed to run a 26.2-mile course during the month of September. So I resumed my training and mapped a course that started in the middle of Zion National Park and finished 26.2 miles away, near my parents’ house.

Southern Utah is still warm in September, and I knew I needed to start early. So, at 4:30 a.m. on my self-appointed race day, my good parents drove me to my starting line. Only when we arrived did I realize the depth of darkness in that canyon. As the weakness of my headlamp became apparent, my mind called up stories about a recent cougar sighting in the area and then scenes from every true crime show I had ever seen. My facial expressions must have revealed my growing concern because right then my parents offered to drive behind me so I could run in the stream of the truck’s headlights until the sun rose. Grateful, I agreed. Then I started my watch and began to run.

I have never felt slower than I did that morning, running in front of that diesel truck. I also didn’t get very far before I recognized parallels between that moment and our mortal journey. The darkness is real, and we don’t know what’s around us on any side. But, knowing better than us, our loving Heavenly Father devised a way to illuminate our paths and provide enough light for us to move forward one step at a time. Whether we realize it or not, He’s watching over us amidst our wobbles and providing what we need to make it to the end—at whatever pace we need to travel. We just need to focus on His light and do our best to keep moving forward.

Heavenly Father knew that wobbles—those of our own making, those that result from the choices of others, and those that come from living in a fallen world—would be a part of our path, which is why Jesus Christ atoned for each of us. Alma 7:11–12 explains that Christ suffered not only for our sins but also for our

pains and afflictions and temptations of every kind; and this that the word might be fulfilled which saith he will take upon him the pains and the sicknesses of his people.

And he will take upon him death, that he may loose the bands of death which bind his people; and he will take upon him their infirmities, that his bowels may be filled with mercy, according to the flesh, that he may know according to the flesh how to succor his people according to their infirmities.

The Savior’s Atonement is the crucial piece, not just of the plan but of our plan. When we feel lonely, afraid, or overwhelmed by our shortcomings and mistakes; when we feel unable to measure up to tasks placed upon our shoulders; when we or people we love struggle with addictions, the consequences of abuse, depression, health challenges, unrepentant sins, or broken dreams; when people we love die, make choices that hurt us, or break their covenants; when relationships crumble and people disappoint us or betray us; or when we disappoint or betray others, in these instances and in every other, Christ is the only answer. Only He can offer forgiveness from our sins. Only He can heal us from the effects of others’ sins as well as our own.³¹ As President Holland explained:

However late you think you are, however many chances you think you have missed, however many mistakes you feel you have made or talents you think you don’t have, or however far from home and family and God you feel you have traveled, I testify that you have not traveled beyond the reach of divine love. It is not possible for you to sink lower than the infinite light of Christ’s Atonement shines.³²

The Savior’s Atonement fills the gap in our paths between where we are and where we need to be. What He asks of us is that we repent and keep trying to move forward.

The wobbles I am currently experiencing are teaching me about one more vital principle: hope. Thanks to a generous grant from BYU, two summers ago I spent a month at the National Humanities Center in Raleigh, North Carolina. To say I was excited to go there was an understatement, but as my departure neared, changes in callings, work responsibilities, relationships, and some family health challenges compounded to the point that the writing I intended to do felt like an increasingly impossible—and much less significant—task.

Leaning on President Nelson’s promise that the Lord will bring the miracles we need as we spend more time in His house,³³ I drove to the temple with questions in my mind and a family file card from my mom in my hand. Before I even left the locker room, part of my answer hit me with the subtlety of a brick. I glanced at the card and noticed the first name of my ancestor: Hope. I smiled at the irony and, with a pang of guilt, thought, “Okay, I get it; I need to hope.” Then my eyes welled up with tears as I read her last name: Moore. Hope more.

For the rest of that day, I considered what it would mean for me to hope more. I needed to hope more in the redeeming and enabling power of the Savior’s Atonement, hope more in the Savior’s ability to heal, hope more in the miracles He has promised, hope more in His love, hope more in His power available to me through my covenants, hope more in His plan of salvation and exaltation for all of His children, and hope more in His plan for my life.

Conclusion

I can see now, in hindsight, how dialoguing through the wobbles in my twenties provided rich sources of learning for me in my life. I love the way my friend recently explained it to her missionary son when she told him that sometimes navigating “unstable ground helps [us] find long-term [stability] and blessings into the eternities.”³⁴ At times I still wobble as the Lord leads me down paths very different from those that I would have chosen. But through it all, I cannot deny His watchful hand and His guidance, nor the generous blessings He leaves me along the way.

I testify that this will be the case for you. Your Heavenly Father will turn your moments of existential wobble into times of exponential growth as you rely on Him and on the Savior. Elder Dale G. Renlund reminded us that “the Savior loves to restore what you cannot restore; He loves to heal wounds you cannot heal; He loves to fix what has been irreparably broken; He compensates for any unfairness inflicted on you; and He loves to permanently mend even shattered hearts.”³⁵ Because of the Atonement of Jesus Christ, your ultimate joy is sure. As you embrace your divine identity as a child of God, stay in dialogue with Heavenly Father and the Savior, and move forward with trust and hope in Heavenly Father’s plan for you, you will find enough stability and confidence to navigate the wobble moments ahead of you. I testify of this in the name Jesus Christ, amen.

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