The idea that someone like Esther had “come… for such a time as this,” implies that timing is important. At least in the case of a few crucial people, the right person arrives at the right time, when they can “seize the day” and make a difference. The idea is crucial to the hero’s journey, the kind of stories we tell each other to encourage and influence each other to put in heroic efforts that make the difference.

The hero’s journey is a powerful model for stories. And while it is often used for stories where a single individual saves an entire people, such as in the case of Esther, to a degree it works in the lives of all of us. We may not save our people, or even anyone else besides ourselves, but saving ourselves is enough—and in an eternal perspective, saving ourselves is also saving an entire people. The idea that we are here on earth learning to be like our Heavenly Parents means that we need to not only experience a version of the hero’s journey, saving ourselves, but also that we have things we need to accomplish, and timing often makes a difference.

This lesson shows that much of the hero’s journey, of the effort to save ourselves and others, appears in our daily lives. We are put in situations where we can bless others, helping them through the struggles of life. This can require courage and we may need to fast and pray to get help from the Lord.

 

The Lord puts me in situations where I can bless others.

I wish this were more true today than it is. In the west our car-center culture and remote lifestyles tend to isolate us more than put us in situations where we meet others, let alone bless them. Nevertheless, I think we often meet people who need help—even if they are those we know well. If nothing else, the same devices that mediate our lives and allow us to be remote from others also allow us to connect to others—and perhaps bless them. Perhaps you are like me and occasionally encounter people who need help. I then struggle with how to help, trying to figure out the best way to help that is moral, best for those involved, and matches my capabilities. Usually my efforts aren’t ideal, and too often they are blunders.

No doubt a part of this is related to how I react — my attitude toward life. Sometimes that attitude itself can be a service to others, as the poet Ida Stewart Peay suggests in this poem. I love the suggestion that the grandmother she describes found ways to bless others despite her trials and age:  “And with her ninety years and one / She managed still to bless / Some life each day, if e’en a child’s, / Bright’ning at her caress.”

 

Most every morn the tots would shout,

“How are you, grandma, dear?”

When well they knew she’d answer them

With customary cheer;

A-peeping o’er her spectacles

Her voice would gaily ring,

“Why, bless you, child, I’m well today,

And happy as a king!”

 

Her hair, frost-white, her brow deep-lined,

Her step, too, weak and slow,

The years had brought experience

Of sorest trials, I know;

But when the maidens scampered through,

Inquiring on the wing,

“How’s grandmamma, today?” she’d cry,

“I’m happy as a king!”

 

The sorrows of the past had left

Deep scars on grandma’s face—-

Though every softened line revealed

Her faith in God’s good grace—

But when a lady old would come

And mourn (poor broken thing)

“Ah, misery me!” grandma’d maintain,

“I’m happy as a king!”

 

And with her ninety years and one

She managed still to bless

Some life each day, if e’en a child’s,

Bright’ning at her caress.

And when she went beyond this sphere

Where deeds reward sure bring,

I trow the share allotted her

Was great as for a king.

1918

 

Pride and anger can lead to downfall.

Famously, heroes are thought to have an ‘Achilles heel’, a defect that leaves them vulnerable and keeps them from completing their work. The most common, I think, is pride—the idea that the hero has, or has the potential to save others. Pride assumes that we know everything, that we accomplished the task, and that we don’t and didn’t need the Lord’s help. Even if we have actually finished the task, pride can undo what we have done.

I like the following poem, from the poet most often considered the equal of Eliza R. Snow. However, Carmichael succumbed to a mental illness in the late 1860s and spent 50 years in an institution. As a result we lost a lot of poetry and a fine mind. Here she examines our pride in choosing “the best,” when “the best” that we choose is so often based on fashion and what has already been called “the best” by others.

 

His was a broad and massive brow,

And intellect was there;

Altho’ the coat upon his back

Was much the worse for wear

And the strange light in his dark eyes

Could not be bought with gold;

And yet he passed unnoticed on,

Because his hat was old.

 

I watched that pale and earnest one,

And saw him step aside,

Lest his coarse dress should slightly press

The rustling robe of pride.

Oh! many a look of proud disdain,

Oh! many a glance of scorn

Was cast upon the humble garb

By the pale stranger worn.

 

They could not heed the noble face

The brow so proudly fair,

The deepened dye of the dark eye,

The wealth of feeling there;

They only knew the garb he wore

Was coarse, and poor, and old;

They could not prize the manly heart

Which throbbed beneath its fold.

 

Months,—years flew by:—a laurel wreath

Circles a pale high brow,

in halls of light, pride shines to-night—

Go seek the stranger now

No stranger now, for wealth and power;

Our earthly prospects change,

Place wealth’s fair crown on whom ye will,

Be sure he is not strange.

 

They rush to gaze upon his face;

They bow to hear him speak;

Fashion’s bright sun—that gifted one—

So gifted, yet so meek;

Oh fie! they laud his courtly dress,

They tell you of his fame,

They’re proud to know him, why? because

The laurel wreaths his name.

 

And can they prize his lofty soul:

So full of burning thought?

They value more the meed of praise

Its gushing wealth has bought;

And doth the garb outweigh the heart,

Its costly folds may press?

Oh tell me which is worth the most—

The creature or the dress?

1859

 

Fasting shows that I trust and rely on the Lord.

An under-discussed part of the heroes journey is the hero’s introspection into why the hero is on the journey and how to proceed. Rarely is the hero endowed with exceptional strength or particular talents that alone make the difference. Instead, the hero needs to know themself and often the solution comes in the strategy the hero discovers instead of the hero’s strength or talent. This is the role of fasting and prayer, it is seeking the Lord’s help with our introspection, helping us to know ourselves and decide how to proceed.

Surprisingly, I haven’t found a lot of poetry that talks about fasting. This poem by the prolific poet Joel H. Johnson is one of the exceptions. Here he suggests that fasting and prayer are the way to learn from the Lord and receive His blessings.

 

Thy bountiful hand, dearest Lord,

In fasting and prayer, we will own,

While met to converse on thy word,

And all our wants to make known.

 

In pray’r and in fasting we bring,

Our songs and heart’s wishes to thee;

O, hearken, dear Lord, while we sing,

That blest from thy hand we maybe,

 

Our sacrifice, Lord, wilt thou own,

And all of our needs, too, supply;

And through thy sweet Spirit make known

When trouble or danger is nigh.

 

Well pleased may thine eye be to view

Our love and communion so sweet,

While striving to work our way through,

And make our salvation complete.

 

Then grant us thy presence, dear Lord,

That we the great blessing may share,

Of learning from thee thy sure word,

In answer to fasting and prayer.

1882

 

Doing the right thing often requires great courage.

The struggles in the heroes journey require courage. In life we are often stuck in the day-to-day or in difficulties or sin of our own making. Even when we have caused our own problems, getting out of them requires courage. This is one of the reasons why looking down on those who are in sin, especially if we haven’t ourselves had to struggle to get out of a similar situation, is wrong. Struggles are real, hard and require courage that not everyone can muster.

Here Alfred Osmond tries to instill that courage in each of us, so we can struggle out of the sins and difficulties we face. Osmond was an early English professor at BYU, and was the half-brother (in a polygamous family) of the well-known Osmond’s grandfather.

 

Linger not, my fallen brother,

In the dreary vales of sin,

Fires within thy bosom smother

That the crown of life may win.

Fan these fire s with breath of purpose;

Turn thy face toward the light;

Try again—the Lord will help you—

Do the thing you know is right.

 

O my brother, be not weary

Of this ceaseless, raging strife,

Though the storm-cloud, dark and dreary,

Hover o’er thy path of life.

Far beyond the darkling storm-clouds

Glows a brilliant orb of light,

And the God of all the ages

Bids thee do the thing that’s right.

 

Sensuous sins have robbed thy spirit

Of its radiant light divine;

Worldly gods torment and tear it,

Through thy worship at their shrine.

Awful is the state of bondage

That thy fondest hopes will blight—

You can never be a freeman

Till you do the thing that’s right.

 

Men may talk of worldly glory,

And the dread of princely power,

They may fret, and fume, and bluster,

Till their weaklings cringe and cower;

But the man with one conviction

That is born of truth and light,

Leads his forces on to conquer,

When he wields the sword of right.

 

In the name of all the heroes

Who have fought for freedom’s cause,

In the name of saints and sages,

Who received God’s righteous laws,

In the name of bleeding martyrs,

And the hosts of angels bright,

I demand of thee, my brother,

Do the thing you know is right.

 

Far beyond thy ken of vision,

Far beyond thy fancy’s flights,

Shines the sun of true advancement

O’er a vale of sweet delights.

Linger not, my fallen brother,

In these dreary vales of night—

Burst thy fetters! “Be a hero!”

Do the thing you know is right.

1911