I have not been very consistent in my journal writing in the past. What I have been regular at, however, is picking it up again after quitting for a time. I’m guessing I’m not alone in this. Some of my earliest journal entries bear highlights like sitting in the same pew as one of the larger men in the ward on Sunday, or being allowed to choose and name the new fish for our fish tank. Brother Corpany might have chuckled if he had read my entry for that day, and Zekey Z. Z. Z. (The fish) probably cared much more about how often I would be feeding her (I think I recall finding out that ol’ Zekey was a girl sometime later -- a discovery that did not make it into my journal).
Initially at least, when I looked back on and reread those entries, I was really embarrassed. I was so juvenile in my thoughts, so distracted by my own handwriting or dramatic expressions. It was hard not to discount my underdeveloped self with all of my emotions, values, etc..
I got to thinking about this emotion as I wondered about crises of faith. They are generally of two sorts - from what I have heard. The first sort arises from historical, doctrinal, or topical questions or concerns. The second type is epistemological though - having to do with the very definition of truth and how it is to be known. Elder Holland counseled those facing questions regarding things they do not know to “hold fast to the ground you have already won” and wait for additional knowledge to come. Essentially, remember the things that you have been given answers to in the face of the questions that still remain. Sometimes, however, is it possible that our questions may begin to be epistemological as we look back? If we look back at our past selves with embarrassment, criticism, or contempt we may feel like whatever we may have felt at that time was equally juvenile, and somehow not valid. Because the Lord “speaketh unto men according to their language, unto their understanding.” As that understanding changes over time, we may be tempted to discount the promptings of the past. This would be a sad mistake. The simplicity of my childhood testimony and the fire of my missionary zeal were as real a spiritual communication as any I received yesterday or today. May God grant us the wisdom to see that while the past is definitely different, it is not less real
