All Things Witness

Thoughts on the mission and power of Jesus Christ


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Exhausted of being exhausted

I don’t like to talk about what it’s like to “have a chronic illness”, because everyone’s illness affects them in different ways. I only know what it’s like for me. My diagnoses are ME/CFS and FND. Both of these are somewhat ephemeral in that there is no solid diagnostic test that confirms that you have the condition – it’s more a case of ruling out what you don’t have and then fitting your symptoms into what’s left. My suspicion is that there are actually a number of things that cause the condition and as our medicine gradually becomes more advanced, we’ll slowly start to identify these causes.

When I was diagnosed with cancer a few years ago, my wife and I were actually quite excited that I finally had a firm diagnosis of something. There was treatment, things we could try, tests we could perform. In contrast, when I was diagnosed with FND, the consultant neurologist basically said, “You might become bed-ridden for the rest of your life, you might get better, who knows. No idea what might help. Goodbye.”

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Finding peace amongst turmoil

Depositphotos_2161899_xl-2015 (2)-compressedWhen I was in my teens, my Dad was diagnosed with malignant melanoma. I was born in Perth, Western Australia where we lived for many years – a city that has the unfortunate tag of “skin cancer capital of the world”. Melanoma has a high mortality rate if not caught early, but when caught early can usually be easily removed. Fortunately, Dad’s melanoma was caught early, his cancer was completely excised and he’s been fine since.

A few years ago, I noticed a mole I’d had on my arm since my youth had started to grow. My wife had long been telling me to get it checked, but my response was always the same, “I’ve had this mole for years. There’s nothing wrong with it.” But when the mole began to rise, peel off, and rise again, I became concerned and made an appointment with the GP. Continue reading


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That was beautiful. Can we do it again?

Twice a year, members of the church from the wider area where we live gather together for what we call ‘Stake Conference’. The conference is held over Saturday and Sunday, and I was asked to speak at the session held last night. I share it here in the hopes that it provides some hope and understanding for others.

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Many years ago, I served my mission amongst the beautiful people of Chile. For the last couple of weeks, I’ve been thinking about a particular experience I had while I was there.

I was in a small town called Coihueco. And my companion and I were teaching a single mother and her daughter who I’ll call Juana, who was about 12 years old. They lived on the outskirts of the town in a small makeshift house of dirt floors. Continue reading


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Taking His Name

This is a post I’ve been meaning to write for a good long while, probably about 2 years. Originally, I was going to write it as we approached a General Conference of the Church – and I might still do that sometime – but for this article (and the next couple) I’m going to focus on the sacrament.

For those who have been following, this is the 11th article in my series on the sacrament of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I was going to discuss taking the name of Christ a bit later in the series, but the phrase is referenced in both of the sacrament prayers – twice in the first – and it’s worth thinking about throughout the ordinance.

Let’s look at the prayers again, this time focusing on where the name of Christ is referenced. Continue reading


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Of Becoming a Saint

This post continues my series on the Sacrament. And don’t worry, I’ll get to it. But there’s something important (and surprisingly relevant) I need to discuss first.

As you might know, I’m LDS. If you’re not LDS – or perhaps don’t even know what that means – you might know members of our church as Mormons.

When the church was newly organised back in the early to mid 19thcentury, the term Mormon was used first by enemies of the church and was considered derogatory. But over the years, the word became more widespread. Continue reading


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The Weakness Which is in Me

Man sitting against a wallMy wife and I have to take it in turns to attend church on Sundays and this week it was my turn, which I always enjoy.

Being the first Sunday of the month, our congregational meeting was a bit different from normal in that any members of the congregation are permitted to walk to the pulpit and share their feelings of the Saviour and of His gospel. Today’s meeting was particularly enjoyable, and I came away feeling uplifted and with my own testimony of Christ strengthened.

During the meeting there was something our Bishop said that really chimed with some thoughts I’ve been having lately, and that was about limitations. He was talking about the balancing act he has to give between his family, his employment, and his calling as Bishop, and how it can be really hard to get right. This is especially true when one of these cranks the volume up and demands more attention. Continue reading


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Endowed with Power

The Sacrament is such a beautiful ordinance. In previous posts, I’ve already talked about how each element of it reminds us of Christ. In so many ways it draws us to Him. The bread, broken that we might eat; the water/wine, poured that we might drink. These things remind us of His body willingly broken, and His blood freely spilt, that we might be made whole.

Likewise the table, the cloth, the priests, and more, all remind us of Him and the grace He so fully offers us. The prayers themselves are no different, and offer us a far greater opportunity to ponder His wondrous sacrifice than perhaps we realise.

In the next couple of posts, I’ll be sharing my thoughts and feelings on that short phrase appearing early in both prayers, “to bless and sanctify”. Continue reading


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Let There Be Light: A Metaphor For My Depression

I’ve been thinking about this post for quite some time, never quite sure when, whether, or how I should share my thoughts. It’s pretty personal. Maybe too much, especially for those who care for me. But I’ve seen and read a lot the last couple of weeks which have made me feel I should just do it, so here goes. I hope I make sense.

If you’ve been following this blog, you’ll know I suffer from depression. Sometimes, like now, it’s on the mild end and it doesn’t really impair my functioning. Subject to my physical health, I can give talks, lessons, presentations, go home teaching, or do myriad other things that I’ve always done over the years. People can treat me, well, normally. Indeed, just like they have for the best part of the 48 years of my life thus far. Really. I’m okay.

At other times, it gets bad… like, really bad.

Some time ago, I was praying about someone. The individual was in a pretty bad place with their own depression and I wanted to help if I could. And as I was praying, the very clear impression came to me that I should read what I’ll call “the destruction chapters” of 3 Nephi in the Book of Mormon. These are the chapters that describe what happened amongst the peoples of the Book of Mormon at the time Jesus died upon the cross in Jerusalem and, you guessed it, there was lots of destruction across the land.

I thought that was a pretty weird thing to go and read, but again the prompting came, so I finished my prayer, opened my Book of Mormon to 3 Nephi 8, and started to read. I was blown away, because it matched perfectly my own experience of depression. Continue reading


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A Man of Sorrows

In my last post, I talked about sadness – and my own lack thereof – and how it is a necessary part of our life, ultimately allowing us to receive a greater happiness.

I thought at the time that it was a distinct topic from my series on the sacrament (you can read the posts in that series here). But as I sat in church today listening to the sacrament prayers, I realised that wasn’t the case. Obviously, all gospel topics are inter-related in some ways, but this was more so than I had imagined.

To bless and sanctify. Bread and Water. Emblems of His death and suffering. To our souls. Hmm.

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My Psalm of Sadness

I don’t feel sad.

I don’t mean just at this moment – although I don’t feel sad at this moment. I don’t even mean in the last week or month. I simply don’t feel sad, well, ever.

The last time I remember feeling sad and crying was when I was 8 years old. I was living in Australia, and my big sister had just got married and left the country. I remember crying that night because Debbie had left me. My parents, brother and three other sisters were still around, but somehow my big sister leaving made me sad. That was 40 years ago.

I’ve had numerous events in my life since then that should have made me sad, of course. And when others learn of them they are often sad for me.

As I’ve spoken of before, I’ve suffered from pretty serious bouts of depression through the years too. But my depression isn’t sadness – it’s hollow (although discussion of that is for another day). I feel depression. I don’t feel sadness.

Now, you might be thinking that not being able to feel sad sounds great. No tears, no bursting of the chest, no… whatever you feel when you’re sad. But it isn’t. Because sadness is an important emotion that helps us process important events in our lives.

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