The North Star....La Estrella del Norte

 1. THE FIXED POINT OF HEAVEN

There is something powerful about the North Star. It is believed that the North Star, Polaris, is where Heavenly Father lives. And when you begin to observe the heavens more closely, that idea starts to carry even more meaning. I’m a big fan of astrophotography, and one of the things that caught my attention was what happens when you capture the night sky over time. As I started looking at time-lapse images, I noticed something incredible. Every star appears to move, forming circular patterns across the sky. But they’re not moving randomly. They’re all revolving around one fixed point. The center. Everything points toward it. That alone teaches a profound truth. There is a center to the universe, and everything is aligned around it. Heavenly Father is not a God of confusion or chaos. He is a God of order, direction, and eternal constancy.

                        Engraving of the big dipper                            Big Spire            Smaller Spire

2. SIGNS WRITTEN IN STONE

And then you see that same principle reflected on earth. On the Salt Lake Temple, specifically on the west middle spire, there is a small engraving of the Big Dipper constellation. Most people never notice it. But it is not there by accident. The restored gospel is rich with symbolism, built upon centuries of revealed truth and modern revelation. The Big Dipper has always been used to find Polaris. It points directly to the North Star. This is not decoration. This is instruction. The temple itself becomes a symbol of direction, a place where those who feel lost can come to be reoriented, to remember who they are, and to understand where they are going.

3. RETURNING TO TRUE NORTH

Because at some point in life, we all feel it. Confusion, disconnection, the feeling that we don’t belong. And when that happens, the world offers endless voices, opinions, and distractions. But none of those are constant. None of them can guide you home. So what do we do? We look up. We look toward what does not move. Toward God. Toward Jesus Christ. Toward eternal truth. They are the center. They are the constant. They are the direction. And just as the North Star has guided travelers for centuries, they guide us now, helping us navigate through the uncertainties of life and back to our heavenly home. And yes, there are people placed in our lives who reflect that same alignment. Not because they replace God, but because they are anchored to Him. They are grounded in truth, steady in their faith, and consistent in their direction. When you are in the middle of life’s storms, they don’t pull you off course. They help you realign. They help you remember where true north is. And for me, this isn’t just something I study or write about. It’s something I’ve had to live. There have been moments where I’ve felt lost, unsure, even disconnected from who I was supposed to be. And every time I tried to figure it out on my own, I only drifted more. But when I stopped and looked up, when I realigned my life with God and Jesus Christ, things didn’t instantly become easy, but they became clear. And that clarity, that direction, that peace… that’s how I know where my true north is.

XoXo Tino XoXo

1. EL PUNTO FIJO DEL CIELO

Hay algo poderoso en la Estrella del Norte. Se cree que la Estrella del Norte, Polaris, es donde vive nuestro Padre Celestial. Y cuando comienzas a observar los cielos con más atención, esa idea empieza a tener aún más significado. Soy un gran aficionado a la astrofotografía, y una de las cosas que más me llamó la atención fue lo que sucede cuando capturas el cielo nocturno con el paso del tiempo. A medida que empecé a ver imágenes en time-lapse, noté algo increíble. Cada estrella parece moverse, formando patrones circulares en el cielo. Pero no se mueven al azar. Todas giran alrededor de un punto fijo. El centro. Todo apunta hacia él. Esto nos muestra una verdad profunda. Hay un centro en el universo, y todo está alineado alrededor de él. Nuestro Padre Celestial no es un Dios de confusión ni de caos. Él es un Dios de orden, dirección y constancia eterna.

           Grabados en la torre del Templo de Salt Lake               Torre Mayor        Torre Menor

2. SEÑALES ESCRITAS EN PIEDRA

Y entonces ves ese mismo principio reflejado aquí en la tierra. En el Salt Lake Temple, específicamente en la torre central del lado oeste, hay un pequeño grabado de la constelación de la Osa Mayor. La mayoría de las personas nunca lo nota. Pero no está ahí por casualidad. El evangelio restaurado está lleno de simbolismo, basado en siglos de enseñanzas reveladas y revelación moderna. La Osa Mayor siempre se ha utilizado para encontrar Polaris. Apunta directamente a la Estrella del Norte. Esto no es decoración. Es dirección. El templo se convierte en un símbolo de guía, un lugar donde quienes se sienten perdidos pueden volver a orientarse, recordar quiénes son y entender hacia dónde van.

3. REGRESAR AL VERDADERO NORTE

Porque en algún momento de la vida, todos lo sentimos. Confusión, desconexión, esa sensación de no pertenecer. Y cuando eso pasa, el mundo ofrece voces, opiniones y distracciones sin fin. Pero ninguna de ellas es constante. Ninguna puede guiarte de regreso a casa. Entonces, ¿qué hacemos? Miramos hacia arriba. Miramos hacia aquello que no se mueve. Hacia Dios. Hacia Jesucristo. Hacia la verdad eterna. Ellos son el centro. Son la constante. Son la dirección. Y así como la Estrella del Norte ha guiado a los viajeros por siglos, ellos también nos guían hoy, ayudándonos a navegar la incertidumbre de la vida y a regresar a nuestro hogar celestial. Y sí, hay personas en nuestras vidas que reflejan esa misma alineación. No porque reemplacen a Dios, sino porque están ancladas a Él. Están firmes en la verdad, constantes en su fe y claras en su dirección. Cuando estés en medio de las tormentas de la vida, no te desvían. Te ayudan a realinearte. Te recuerdan dónde está el verdadero norte. Y para mí, esto no es solo algo que estudio o escribo. Es algo que he tenido que vivir. Ha habido momentos en los que me he sentido perdido, sin rumbo, incluso desconectado de quien se suponía que debía ser. Y cada vez que traté de resolverlo por mi cuenta, solo me alejé más. Pero cuando me detuve y miré hacia arriba, cuando realineé mi vida con Dios y con Jesucristo, las cosas no se volvieron fáciles de inmediato, pero se volvieron claras. Y esa claridad, esa dirección, esa paz… así es como sé dónde está mi verdadero norte.

XoXo Tino XoXo

You don’t go back to who you were...... No regresas a quien fuiste.

 

You don’t go back to who you were

because becoming someone new
forces you to admit
that who you used to be
was shaped by wounds
you hadn’t healed yet

And that truth is heavy

Because growth isn’t just change
it’s awareness

It’s realizing
your old patterns
came from pain
not purpose

And when you think about going back…
it doesn’t feel right anymore

Because you’ve seen too much
you’ve felt too much
you’ve grown too much

Because you’ve outgrown
what once felt like home

So even if it’s familiar
it no longer fits

And when you finally feel
that you will never go back
to who you were

that’s when you know
you’ve stepped into
who you’ve become
and who you were meant to be

No regreses a quien fuiste

porque convertirte en alguien nuevo
te obliga a admitir
que quien eras antes
estaba moldeado por heridas
que aún no habías sanado

Y esa verdad pesa

Porque crecer no es solo cambiar
es tomar conciencia

Es darte cuenta
que tus viejos patrones
venían del dolor
no de un propósito

Y cuando piensas en regresar…
ya no se siente bien

Porque has visto demasiado
has sentido demasiado
has crecido demasiado

Porque has superado
lo que antes se sentía como hogar

Así que aunque sea familiar
ya no encaja

Y cuando finalmente sientes
que nunca volverás
a ser quien fuiste

es cuando sabes
que has entrado en
quien te has convertido
y en quien estabas destinado a ser

Cheering Others On in a World of Noise....Animar a los Demás en un Mundo de Ruido

Cheering Others On in a World of Noise

Don Miguel Ruiz, in La Maestría del Amor, teaches that the Toltecs described the human mind as living in what they called the mitote. The mitote is a state of chaos, a marketplace of voices, a constant internal noise where thousands of opinions, judgments, beliefs, and fears are all speaking at the same time. We are born into that. We are born into a world full of traditions, full of noise, full of judgments, opinions, and beliefs that shape who we become early on and how we see ourselves and others. Without realizing it, we begin to confuse that noise with truth.

That inner noise is not neutral. It is full of comparison, full of criticism, full of judgment. It teaches us to measure people, to label them, and to quickly decide who they are. And if we’re honest, that voice feels familiar, because it is the same voice the scriptures describe as the natural man. Mosiah 3:19 teaches us that the natural man is an enemy to God. The natural man thrives in the mitote. It reacts instead of understanding, criticizes instead of uplifting, and sees flaws before it sees humanity.

But the Savior did not operate from noise. He saw clearly. Where others saw sinners, He saw souls. Where others saw failure, He saw potential. Where others judged, He loved. In 1 Samuel 16:7 we are reminded that man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart. That is the invitation, to stop relying on the loud, automatic judgments of the mitote and begin to see with something deeper, the heart.

When you step outside of that internal noise, something changes. You no longer feel the need to tear people down or feel superior by pointing out flaws. Instead, you begin to do something rare. You cheer people on. You recognize effort, support growth, and celebrate progress, even when it’s imperfect. Because you realize something powerful, every person you meet is fighting something you cannot see.

God does not see people the way the mitote teaches us to see them. He does not reduce people to their worst moments or define them by their weaknesses. He sees who they are becoming. C.S. Lewis once said there are no ordinary people, every person is eternal. That means the person you are tempted to judge is someone God is still shaping. The person you are tempted to criticize is someone God still loves completely. And if God can love them that way, so should we.

Christ did not ask us to be better critics, He asked us to love better. In John 13:34 He teaches us to love one another as He has loved us. That kind of love does not come from the mitote, it comes from alignment with Him. It requires intention, awareness, humility, and a willingness to see differently.

The world is already loud, already full of opinions, already full of judgment. It does not need more noise. It needs more people who see clearly, more people who lift others, and more people who choose love over criticism. So the next time the noise rises, pause and ask yourself if you are seeing this person through the chaos of the mitote or through the clarity of Christ. Because one will lead you to judge, and the other will lead you to love.

XoXo Tino XoXo

Animar a los Demás en un Mundo de Ruido

Don Miguel Ruiz, en La Maestría del Amor, enseña que los toltecas describían la mente humana como algo que vive dentro de lo que llamaban el mitote. El mitote es un estado de caos, como un mercado lleno de voces, un ruido interno constante donde miles de opiniones, juicios, creencias y miedos hablan al mismo tiempo. Nacemos dentro de eso. Nacemos en un mundo lleno de tradiciones, lleno de ruido, lleno de juicios, opiniones y creencias que moldean quiénes somos y cómo nos vemos a nosotros mismos y a los demás. Sin darnos cuenta, empezamos a confundir ese ruido con la verdad.

Ese ruido interno no es neutral. Está lleno de comparación, de crítica y de juicio. Nos enseña a medir a las personas, a ponerles etiquetas y a decidir rápidamente quiénes son. Y si somos sinceros, esa voz nos resulta familiar, porque es la misma voz que las escrituras describen como el hombre natural. En Mosíah 3:19 se nos enseña que el hombre natural es enemigo de Dios. El hombre natural prospera dentro del mitote. Reacciona en lugar de entender, critica en lugar de edificar y ve defectos antes de ver humanidad.

Pero el Salvador no vivía guiado por ese ruido. Él veía con claridad. Donde otros veían pecadores, Él veía almas. Donde otros veían fracaso, Él veía potencial. Donde otros juzgaban, Él amaba. En 1 Samuel 16:7 se nos recuerda que el hombre mira lo que está delante de sus ojos, pero el Señor mira el corazón. Esa es la invitación, dejar de depender de los juicios automáticos y ruidosos del mitote y empezar a ver con algo más profundo, con el corazón.

Cuando te sales de ese ruido interno, algo cambia. Ya no sientes la necesidad de criticar a los demás ni de sentirte superior por señalar defectos. En lugar de eso, empiezas a hacer algo poco común. Empiezas a animar a los demás. Reconoces el esfuerzo, apoyas el crecimiento y celebras el progreso, incluso cuando no es perfecto. Porque entiendes algo poderoso, cada persona que conoces está luchando con algo que tú no puedes ver.

Dios no ve a las personas como el mitote nos enseña a verlas. Él no reduce a nadie a sus peores momentos ni los define por sus debilidades. Él ve en quién se están convirtiendo. C.S. Lewis dijo que no existen personas ordinarias, cada persona es eterna. Eso significa que la persona que estás a punto de juzgar es alguien en quien Dios todavía está trabajando. La persona que estás a punto de criticar es alguien a quien Dios sigue amando completamente. Y si Dios puede amar así, nosotros también deberíamos hacerlo.

Cristo no nos pidió ser mejores críticos, nos pidió amar mejor. En Juan 13:34 nos enseña a amarnos unos a otros como Él nos ha amado. Ese tipo de amor no viene del mitote, viene de estar alineados con Él. Requiere intención, conciencia, humildad y la decisión de ver diferente.

El mundo ya es ruidoso, ya está lleno de opiniones y ya está lleno de juicio. No necesita más ruido. Necesita más personas que vean con claridad, más personas que levanten a los demás y más personas que elijan el amor sobre la crítica. Así que la próxima vez que el ruido aparezca, haz una pausa y pregúntate si estás viendo a esa persona a través del caos del mitote o a través de la claridad de Cristo. Porque uno te llevará a juzgar y el otro te llevará a amar.

Selfless Love....Amor sin egoismo

Selfless love is listening to everything she says, fully present, even when it’s just how her day went or what she bought at the store… and still saying, tell me everything

Selfless love is saying, I’ll come with you… not because you have to, but because you don’t want her to feel alone

Selfless love is seeing something that reminds you of her and bringing it to her, not for credit, but because she crossed your mind

Selfless love is when she asks, you remembered? and you look at her and say, of course I did

Selfless love is learning her without being told… knowing what she needs and giving it before she has to ask

Selfless love is taking something you’ve always done alone and choosing to share it with her, because it means more with her there

Selfless love is giving her the last piece, the last bite, the last sip… and meaning it

Selfless love is telling her to take her time, because you’ve learned patience, and you understand what it takes for her to feel beautiful

Selfless love is holding space for her emotions without trying to fix them, just being there so she doesn’t have to carry them alone

Selfless love is choosing her in small moments no one sees, not just in the big ones everyone applauds

Selfless love is protecting her peace, even when it requires you to step back from your own comfort

Selfless love is consistency… showing up the same way on her worst days as you do on her best ones

Selfless love is not about losing yourself… it’s about giving from a place so full, you don’t feel the loss

And when it’s real,
it’s not something you try to prove

it’s something she feels
in everything you do

Amor desinteresado es escuchar todo lo que ella dice, estando completamente presente, incluso cuando solo te cuenta cómo le fue en su día o lo que compró en la tienda… y aun así decirle, cuéntame todo

Amor desinteresado es decir, voy contigo… no porque tengas que hacerlo, sino porque no quieres que se sienta sola

Amor desinteresado es ver algo que te recuerda a ella y llevárselo, no por reconocimiento, sino porque pensaste en ella

Amor desinteresado es cuando ella pregunta, ¿te acordaste? y tú la miras y le dices, claro que sí

Amor desinteresado es aprenderla sin que te lo diga… saber lo que necesita y dárselo antes de que tenga que pedirlo

Amor desinteresado es tomar algo que siempre has hecho solo y decidir compartirlo con ella, porque contigo ahí tiene más sentido

Amor desinteresado es darle el último pedazo, el último bocado, el último trago… y hacerlo de corazón

Amor desinteresado es decirle que se tome su tiempo, porque has aprendido paciencia y entiendes lo que necesita para sentirse hermosa

Amor desinteresado es sostener espacio para sus emociones sin tratar de arreglarlas, simplemente estar ahí para que no tenga que cargarlas sola

Amor desinteresado es elegirla en los momentos pequeños que nadie ve, no solo en los grandes que todos aplauden

Amor desinteresado es proteger su paz, incluso cuando eso requiere salirte de tu propia comodidad

Amor desinteresado es consistencia… estar presente de la misma forma en sus peores días que en los mejores

Amor desinteresado no se trata de perderte a ti mismo… se trata de dar desde un lugar tan lleno que no sientes pérdida

Y cuando es real,
no es algo que intentas demostrar

es algo que ella siente
en todo lo que haces

you asked me why i love you..

You asked me why I love you...

I love you because of who you are and how you make me feel.

I feel excited to see you. I feel the butterflies in my stomach when

I’m looking at our pictures.

I smile when I think of the memories we have shared.

You asked me why I love you...

Because when I first looked into your eyes, for the first time in my

life I went beyond those beautiful, dreamy eyes and into your soul.

I saw that you’re kind and noble. I saw your innocence, your desire

to be with someone who could help you grow and become who you

are meant to be.

You asked me why I love you...

Because of your patience, how you support me in my growth and

with my imperfections, and how you see me in ways no one else does.

You inspire me to be better every single day.

You asked me why I love you...

You make my days brighter, my world happier, and my life feel

complete because you are a part of it.

You asked me why I love you...

Because of your silliness, the way you laugh, the way you care, and

the way we dream together.

You inspire me to be better every single day.

Because you take care of me, you make me feel loved and needed.

You make me feel that I complement you—that I am your man, your

protector, your leader.

I love you because of who you are and how you make me feel now,

and I will love you even more when we are married—because of who

we and our love will become together.

So when you ask me why I love you, these are just some of the reasons. And even then, they don’t come close to capturing everything I feel for you.

This is why I love you.

Tino

The Romeo and Juliet of the Aztecs

We all know the story of Romeo and Juliet. But long before that story existed, the Aztecs had their own. It was the story of Iztaccíhuatl and Popocatépetl.

She was a princess. Gentle. Loved. Protected. He was a warrior. Not born into royalty, but made powerful by love.

When he asked for her hand, her father did not refuse, but he gave him a condition. He said, “You must go to war… not to prove your strength, but to prove your devotion.” So Popocatépetl left. Not for glory. Not for honor. But for her.

But while he was gone, another man, jealous and hungry for her love, entered the silence he left behind. He wanted her for himself. So he slowly poisoned her heart with lies. He spoke doubt disguised as truth. Concern disguised as love. He tried to become the man who remained… while the warrior was gone. Day by day, he weakened her hope, until one day he told the lie that would break her completely. He told Iztaccíhuatl that Popocatépetl had died.

Her heart broke… she could not live without him, so she died, believing she was joining him in death.

When Popocatépetl returned victorious, he did not return to celebration. He returned to silence. To loss. He carried her body to the mountains, laid her down gently, and refused to leave her.

The gods saw his loyalty. His refusal to abandon love, even in death. So they turned her into a mountain. Iztaccíhuatl became the sleeping woman. And Popocatépetl became the warrior volcano, still standing beside her.

And when the volcano burns, they say it is his torch… still lit.

Because real love does not leave. He never left her. He never stopped loving her. He never stopped fighting for her.

And even now, centuries later, he still stands beside her… burning, waiting, proving that love, when it is real, does not end. It becomes eternal.

https://www.instagram.com/reel/DTYNAmVCsYK/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link&igsh=NTc4MTIwNjQ2YQ==

Todos conocemos la historia de Romeo y Julieta. Pero mucho antes de que esa historia existiera, los aztecas tenían la suya. Era la historia de Iztaccíhuatl y Popocatépetl.

Ella era una princesa. Dulce. Amada. Protegida. Él era un guerrero. No nacido en la realeza, sino hecho poderoso por el amor.

Cuando pidió su mano, su padre no se negó, pero le puso una condición. Le dijo: “Debes ir a la guerra… no para probar tu fuerza, sino para probar tu devoción.” Así que Popocatépetl se fue. No por gloria. No por honor. Sino por ella.

Pero mientras él estaba lejos, otro hombre, celoso y deseando su amor, entró en el silencio que él había dejado. La quería para él. Así que lentamente envenenó su corazón con mentiras. Hablaba dudas disfrazadas de verdad. Preocupación disfrazada de amor. Intentó convertirse en el hombre que permanecía… mientras el guerrero estaba ausente. Día tras día, debilitó su esperanza, hasta que un día dijo la mentira que la destruiría por completo. Le dijo a Iztaccíhuatl que Popocatépetl había muerto.

Su corazón se rompió… no pudo vivir sin él, así que murió, creyendo que se reunía con él en la muerte.

Cuando Popocatépetl regresó victorioso, no regresó a la celebración. Regresó al silencio. A la pérdida. Cargó su cuerpo hasta las montañas, la recostó suavemente y se negó a abandonarla.

Los dioses vieron su lealtad. Su negativa a abandonar el amor, incluso en la muerte. Así que la convirtieron en una montaña. Iztaccíhuatl se convirtió en la mujer dormida. Y Popocatépetl se convirtió en el volcán guerrero, todavía de pie a su lado.

Y cuando el volcán arde, dicen que es su antorcha… todavía encendida.

Porque el amor verdadero no se va. Él nunca la dejó. Nunca dejó de amarla. Nunca dejó de luchar por ella.

Y aún ahora, siglos después, sigue de pie a su lado… ardiendo, esperando, demostrando que el amor, cuando es real, no termina. Se vuelve eterno.

Cheer people on...Anima a los demas

 Don Miguel Ruiz, in La Maestría del Amor, teaches that the Toltecs described the human mind as living in what they called the mitote. The mitote is a state of chaos, a marketplace of voices, a constant internal noise where thousands of opinions, judgments, beliefs, and fears all speak at the same time. From the moment we are born, we are brought into this noise. We learn how to see ourselves through it, and we learn how to see others through it. Without realizing it, we begin to confuse that noise with truth.

That inner noise is not neutral. It is full of comparison, full of criticism, full of judgment. It tells us to measure people, to label them, to decide quickly who they are. And if we’re honest, that voice feels familiar. Because it is the same voice the scriptures describe as the natural man. Mosiah 3:19 teaches us that the natural man is an enemy to God. The natural man thrives in the mitote. It reacts instead of understanding. It criticizes instead of uplifting. It sees flaws before it sees humanity.

The Savior did not operate from noise. He saw clearly. Where others saw sinners, He saw souls. Where others saw failure, He saw potential. Where others judged, He loved. In 1 Samuel 16:7 we are reminded that man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart. That is the invitation. To stop relying on the loud, automatic judgments of the mitote and begin to see with something deeper, the heart.

When you step outside of that internal noise, something changes. You no longer feel the need to tear people down. You no longer feel superior by pointing out flaws. Instead, you begin to do something rare. You cheer people on. You recognize effort. You support growth. You celebrate progress, even when it’s imperfect. Because you realize something powerful. Every person you meet is fighting something you cannot see.

God does not see people the way the mitote teaches us to see them. He does not reduce people to their worst moments. He does not define them by their weaknesses. He sees who they are becoming. C.S. Lewis once said there are no ordinary people. Every person is eternal. That means the person you are tempted to judge is someone God is still shaping. The person you are tempted to criticize is someone God still loves completely. And if God can love them that way, so should we.

Christ did not ask us to be better critics. He asked us to love better. In John 13:34 He teaches us to love one another as He has loved us. That kind of love does not come from the mitote. It comes from alignment with Him. It requires intention, awareness, and humility. It requires choosing to see differently.

The world is already loud. Already full of opinions. Already full of judgment. It does not need more noise. It needs more people who see clearly, more people who lift others, more people who choose love over criticism. So the next time the noise rises, pause and ask yourself if you are seeing this person through the chaos of the mitote or through the clarity of Christ. Because one will lead you to judge, and the other will lead you to love.

Don Miguel Ruiz, en La Maestría del Amor, enseña que los toltecas describían la mente humana como algo que vive dentro de lo que llamaban el mitote. El mitote es un estado de caos, como un mercado lleno de voces, un ruido interno constante donde miles de opiniones, juicios, creencias y miedos hablan al mismo tiempo. Desde que nacemos, entramos en ese ruido. Aprendemos a vernos a nosotros mismos a través de él, y también aprendemos a ver a los demás así. Sin darnos cuenta, empezamos a confundir ese ruido con la verdad.

Ese ruido interno no es neutral. Está lleno de comparación, de crítica, de juicio. Nos empuja a medir a las personas, a ponerles etiquetas, a decidir rápido quiénes son. Y si somos sinceros, esa voz se siente familiar. Porque es la misma voz que las escrituras describen como el hombre natural. En Mosíah 3:19 se nos enseña que el hombre natural es enemigo de Dios. El hombre natural prospera dentro del mitote. Reacciona en lugar de entender. Critica en lugar de edificar. Ve defectos antes de ver humanidad.

El Salvador no vivía guiado por ese ruido. Él veía con claridad. Donde otros veían pecadores, Él veía almas. Donde otros veían fracaso, Él veía potencial. Donde otros juzgaban, Él amaba. En 1 Samuel 16:7 se nos recuerda que el hombre mira lo que está delante de sus ojos, pero el Señor mira el corazón. Esa es la invitación. Dejar de depender de los juicios automáticos y ruidosos del mitote y empezar a ver con algo más profundo, con el corazón.

Cuando te sales de ese ruido interno, algo cambia. Ya no sientes la necesidad de criticar a los demás. Ya no te sientes superior por señalar defectos. En lugar de eso, empiezas a hacer algo poco común. Empiezas a apoyar a los demás. Reconoces el esfuerzo. Acompañas el crecimiento. Celebras el progreso, incluso cuando no es perfecto. Porque entiendes algo poderoso. Cada persona que conoces está luchando con algo que tú no puedes ver.

Dios no ve a las personas como el mitote nos enseña a verlas. Él no reduce a nadie a sus peores momentos. No los define por sus debilidades. Él ve en quién se están convirtiendo. C.S. Lewis dijo que no existen personas ordinarias. Cada persona es eterna. Eso significa que la persona que estás a punto de juzgar es alguien en quien Dios todavía está trabajando. La persona que estás a punto de criticar es alguien a quien Dios sigue amando completamente. Y si Dios puede amar así, nosotros también deberíamos hacerlo.

Cristo no nos pidió ser mejores críticos. Nos pidió amar mejor. En Juan 13:34 nos enseña a amarnos unos a otros como Él nos ha amado. Ese tipo de amor no viene del mitote. Viene de estar alineados con Él. Requiere intención, conciencia y humildad. Requiere decidir ver diferente.

El mundo ya es ruidoso. Ya está lleno de opiniones. Ya está lleno de juicio. No necesita más ruido. Necesita más personas que vean con claridad, más personas que levanten a los demás, más personas que elijan el amor sobre la crítica. Así que la próxima vez que el ruido aparezca, haz una pausa y pregúntate si estás viendo a esa persona a través del caos del mitote o a través de la claridad de Cristo. Porque uno te llevará a juzgar, y el otro te llevará a amar.

I cant unlove you...........No puedo olvidar como amarte

 I cant unlove you

I can’t unlove you. I cannot imagine a chapter of my life story without you being in it. Sunrises and sunsets have a different meaning when I’m watching them with you. Even the simplest things, like sharing a plate of food, become moments worth remembering. Your smile never gets old to me, not the first time I saw it, not the hundredth. Silence with you is never empty. It feels peaceful. Your presence feels like home even when we are far from it. On the days when the world feels cold, your warmth changes everything. Waking up beside you feels like the way life was meant to begin. Loving you doesn’t feel like something I chose. It feels like something my soul recognized the moment it found you. And when my life finally reaches its last page, my final breath as it leaves this world whispers your name.

No puedo olvidar como amarte

No puedo desamarte. No puedo imaginar un capítulo de la historia de mi vida sin que tú estés en él. Los amaneceres y los atardeceres tienen un significado diferente cuando los veo contigo. Incluso las cosas más simples, como compartir un plato de comida, se convierten en momentos que vale la pena recordar. Tu sonrisa nunca se vuelve vieja para mí, ni la primera vez que la vi ni la centésima. El silencio contigo nunca se siente vacío. Se siente en paz. Tu presencia se siente como hogar incluso cuando estamos lejos de él. En los días en que el mundo se siente frío, tu calor lo cambia todo. Despertar a tu lado se siente como la manera en que la vida estaba destinada a comenzar. Amarte no se siente como algo que elegí. Se siente como algo que mi alma reconoció en el momento en que te encontró. Y cuando mi vida finalmente llegue a su última página, mi último aliento al dejar este mundo susurrará tu nombre.

Lord, give me strength for just one more.

 

A Talk on the Atonement of Jesus Christ

Several months ago I watched the movie Hacksaw Ridge. It tells the true story of Desmond Doss, a medic during World War II who refused to carry a rifle because of his faith and his religion. He did not believe in taking lives, but in saving them.

During one of the bloodiest battles of the war, his entire unit was ordered to retreat. Everyone began descending the cliff toward safety. When he reached the edge, preparing to climb down, he heard the cries of wounded soldiers who were still up there. He could climb down to where his fellow soldiers were safe and ready to protect those who were descending, or he could return to the fighting to help them. He chose to stay.

It was night, and he was surrounded by darkness. The deafening sound of explosions and bullets striking nearby filled the air. He began searching for the wounded. Some of them were as far as 600 feet away, nearly the length of two football fields. In order to stay alive, at times he had to remain completely still beside fallen soldiers while the enemy passed only a few steps away from where he was hiding.

Every time he found a wounded soldier, he refused to leave him behind. He would carry him, drag him, lift him, and take him to the edge of the cliff. It was a drop of forty feet, about the height of a four-story building. By this time there was no one left below. But even then, carefully, he lowered each soldier down to safety. Then he would turn around and go back into the danger.

The first. Then ten. Then thirty. Then fifty. Until there were seventy-five.

Each time more exhausted. Each time weaker. Each time risking his life.

And each time he prayed the same prayer: Lord, give me strength for just one more.

After lowering the last man, with his hands torn and bloodied from the rope, his body collapsed from exhaustion. He had nothing left to give. But because he chose to stay, seventy-five men lived.

What Desmond Doss did that night is only a small example of what Jesus Christ has done for each one of us.

The Savior did not carry seventy-five men. He carried every soul who has ever lived. Historians estimate that more than one hundred billion people have lived on this earth.

He saved them all. Not as a group, but individually. You and me.

He suffered everything that we suffer. Alma chapter 7 teaches that He took upon Himself pains and afflictions of every kind. He did not suffer only for our sins. He suffered for pain, for sorrow, for sickness, for broken hearts, for loneliness, for fear, for uncertainty, for our weaknesses, and for every burden we would ever carry, so that He would know perfectly how to help us.

I came to understand this in a small way, in a way I had never understood before, during a motorcycle accident.

A car invaded my lane, and I was thrown off my motorcycle and landed in the middle of the highway.

It was rush hour, and I could hear the sound of brakes screeching as cars stopped abruptly around me.

I closed my eyes and prayed for safety. Then there was silence.

My first instinct was to see if I could move. I moved my fingers and they responded. I moved my left leg and was able to move it. Then I tried moving my right leg. There was pain. Intense pain, but it was tolerable. I knew something was broken.

Then I moved my left arm. It responded.

But when I tried to move my right arm, the pain I felt was unlike anything I had ever experienced. It was immediate. Intense. Unbearable.

My face began to tremble from the pain. I could not control it.

And tears began to fall automatically, nonstop, like a water faucet had been opened.

Lying there on the extremely hot pavement, now surrounded by people, feeling the pain of six broken bones and filled with uncertainty, I began to understand how real physical suffering is.

The scriptures teach that Christ suffered much more. In Mosiah chapter 3 it says that He would suffer pain of body, hunger, thirst, and fatigue, even more than man can suffer except it be unto death.

And in Doctrine and Covenants section 19, He said that His suffering caused Him, even though He was God, to tremble because of pain and to bleed at every pore. He trembled. He bled at every pore. Not symbolically. Not figuratively. Literally.

As I later reflected on that moment on the highway, when my own face trembled because of the intensity of the pain, I understood something I had never understood before. The Savior knows exactly what that feels like. He has felt it. Not in theory. Not as a concept. But in reality. He trembled so that when we tremble, we are not alone.

But the purpose of the Atonement was not only to understand our pain. It was to overcome it. To make repentance possible. To cleanse us, heal us, and change us.

Because of the Atonement we can repent. We can be forgiven. We can overcome spiritual death. Our weaknesses can become strengths. We can return to His presence. Not only salvation, but exaltation is possible.

One day we will stand before Him, and we will see the marks in His hands. Marks that testify that even though He was a God and could have ended His suffering at any moment, He chose to stay. Marks that testify of the love He has for us, so that we could repent, be forgiven, and return to His presence.

Before I finish, I want to extend an invitation.

If there is something in our lives that requires repentance, let us do it. Not tomorrow. Not when it is more convenient. Now.

If there is someone we have had a conflict with, let us not wait for them to make the first move. Let us be the ones to ask for forgiveness. Let us be the ones who seek reconciliation.

Every step toward repentance is a way of saying to the Savior: Your suffering mattered in my life. Your love was not in vain.

Finally, I do not know if this was Heavenly Fathers humor, but while I was lying there on the pavement, broken, I could still hear my motorcycle in the distance. The engine was still running. The music was still playing. And the song that was playing loudly was George Michael’s song… You’ve Got to Have Faith.

I testify that Jesus Christ lives. I testify that His Atonement makes repentance possible. I testify that because of Him, what is broken can be restored, and that through Him we can return to the presence of our Heavenly Father.

In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.