Stephen E. Robinson from his book “Following Christ” . . . :
Many years ago, when I was somewhere between nine and eleven, I participated in a community summer recreation program in the town where I grew up. I remember a particular diving competition for the different age groups held at the community swimming pool. Some of the wealthier kids in our area had their own pools and diving boards, and they were pretty good amateur divers. But there was one kid my age from the less affluent part of town who didn’t have his own pool. What he had was raw courage. While the rest of us did our crisp little swan dives, back dives and jackknives, being ever so careful to arch our backs and point our toes, this young man attempted back flips, one-and-a-halfs, doubles and so on. But oh he was sloppy. He seldom kept his feet together, he never pointed his toes and he usually missed his vertical entry. The rest of us observed with smug satisfaction as the judges held up their scorecards that he consistently got lower marks than we did with our safe and simple dives, and we congratulated ourselves that we were actually better divers. “He is all heart and no finesse,” we told ourselves. “After all, we keep our feet together and point our toes.”
The announcement of the winners was a great shock to us, for the brave young lad with the flips had apparently beaten us all. However, I had kept rough track of the scores in my head, and I knew with the arrogance of limited information that the math didn’t add up. I had consistently outscored the boy with the flips. And, so certain that an injustice had been perpetrated, I stormed the scorers table and demanded an explanation. “Degree of difficulty,” the scorer replied matter-of-factly as he looked me in the eye. “Sure you had better form, but he had harder dives. When you factor in the degree of difficulty, he beat you hands down, kid. Until then, I hadn’t known that some dives were awarded “extra credit” because of their greater difficulty.
I have a friend to whom life has been unkind. Though she married in the temple her husband proved unfaithful and eventually abandoned her and their small children. Since he has never paid a penny of child support, my friend works full time to support herself and her kids. For several years she also went to night school to improve her financial situation. Therefore, of necessity, she could not be with her children as much as she would have liked and could not always give them the guidance and discipline they needed. It just wasn’t possible in her difficult circumstances. One of the results of her-less-than perfect family situation was troubled teenagers. Now in middle age she is faced with raising some of her grandchildren—again, all alone. Without a faithful companion, without the priesthood in her home, without the blessings that are realized where the ideal family setting is possible, it is almost inevitable that my friend should feel that her “scores” as a wife and mother, and perhaps even as a person, aren’t very high. When she goes to church and sees other “ideal” LDS families, when she hears them bear their testimonies and give thanks for all their spiritual blessings, she sees in her mind the judges holding up the scorecards that say 9.9 or 10.0. When she looks at her own life, her own failed marriage, her own troubled children, she knows that the scores are much lower, and she worries about her place in the kingdom. ~Stephen E. Robinson, Believing Christ, (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 2019). 283-86
continued. . .
