Life and Living While “Dwelling in a Tent”

What was I waiting for? Would an “acceptable” time ever come? And, if it did, would I have wasted years when I could have been enjoying those things and my own life more fully?

Generally, when we ask people about their favorite verse of scripture, we might tend to expect a response along the lines of verses or chapters with very clearly stated principles, doctrines, or declarations of faith mentioned. Verses like 1 John 4:18, where we learn that “perfect love casteth out fear.” Or, in the Book of Mormon, in Alma chapter 7, where we are taught that the Savior “will take upon him death, that he may loose the bands of death which bind his people; and he will take upon him their infirmities, that his bowels may be filled with mercy, according to the flesh, that he may know according to the flesh how to succor his people according to their infirmities.” These are verses that are quoted, shared, and that have taught and buoyed up many a heart, my own included.

There is another verse of scripture that, over the years, has become quite meaningful to me. It’s probably not one that a great sermon has ever been written about, but I don’t think that needs to be a qualifier. What matters is what it has taught me.

It comes from the Book of Mormon, in 1 Nephi 16:6. “Now, all these things were said and done as my father dwelt in a tent in the valley which he called Lemuel.” Easy to see why I love it so much, right?

Okay. I promise it is not due merely to a love of camping, though I do love to camp. Instead, it is because of all that is encompassed to me in the words “all these…while my father dwelt in a tent.”

A few years ago, I was sitting in a church meeting enjoying the words of some visiting speakers addressed to our group of young, single adults (ages 18-31). Their words centered on the idea of not living like we were in a temporary state, though much about our situations might seem (or we might hope to be) merely an in-between, or temporary stage in life. Most of us were in college, all of us were unmarried, many of us wanted to be married, and each of us felt, to some degree, like we were traveling a path to some prescribed end, which—when we finally reached it—would feel like our real lives had finally begun, or we could finally start living again.

At this time, I, myself was trying to make sense of relationship I was hoping would go somewhere, which wasn’t, dealing with that disappointment, and trying to navigate a difficult graduate program. I was feeling washed down a quickly moving current without any real, solid footing. I thought if I could just keep my head afloat, soon enough I would be through it and then I could be at peace. Soon these temporary states would be over, and I would have my footing solidly beneath me in these major areas of life.

This sense of “having arrived” might look different to many people: when you finally get married; when you finally land that dream, “real job”; when you finally get past a large trial you are facing; when you finally start having kids; when your cancer is finally in remission; when you kick that bad habit; buy your own house; make a certain amount of money; start or graduate college, etc. Once you have passed that milestone, then you can set down roots, really start living again, or feel like you’ve finally moved beyond that temporary state and can look forward to a real future. The problem with this mentality, as we all know, is that there will almost always be something else, and we need to start living now.

As the speakers shared their thoughts, they had us look to the example of the Mormon Pioneers as they began their westward trek to the Salt Lake Valley from Illinois. The members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints were being driven from their homes by mobs and were now following the counsel of their new leader, Brigham Young, to move West and settle in the relative safety of the Rocky Mountains. They were refugees on a journey to a safe, new home.

Not too far along their path, the first groups of Latter-day Saints stopped in what is now current-day Nebraska, near the Missouri River. Though they knew this was not their final stop—though they knew they’d hopefully only be there maybe a year—the saints were counseled to build homes and plant crops to prepare for those who were to come after. This settlement soon became known as Winter Quarters.

Within only a few months’ time, this camp grew into a small prairie city consisting of “538 log cabins, 83 sod houses, and a population of 3,483.” A few months more and the saints had built over 800 shelters, some shops, and a council house, which was used as a community center and town hall. All of this was done for a temporary home while the saints were in a passing place of transition, not meant to last.

Though this was a time of industry, it was also a time of great trial, heartaches, sickness, and death. Still, these individuals and families held dances, concerts, and found joy in the day-to-day living, while not just waiting to find joy until after their trials were over and after they had reached their promised land.

I was struck by this story and by the speakers’ message to us to “plant crops” even though we were living in a temporary state, just like those early Latter-day Saint pioneers. I felt a desire to appreciate where I was at, at that very moment, and to make the most of all I had and was experiencing right then. I was living my life—it was happening and moving along—and so why put off doing some of the things that I wanted until after I was married, or after I graduated from my program?

I found there were silly things I wasn’t doing because they felt like things that I would do only once I was no longer an apartment-renting college student. I also realized I was not investing myself in my surroundings in a way that I would have liked because I didn’t know how long I’d be staying in that place. I made a few small adjustments, and that made all the difference.

I bought that subscription to National Geographic that I’d always wanted. I took salsa lessons with a friend from a local dance instructor, and we went weekly to private and group lessons, getting to make some fun new friends along the way and getting to really appreciate some of what the city had to offer. I went to different classes offered at local businesses and updated the decorations in my home to things that made me happy rather than things that I was just making do with until that hazy future date when I was suddenly supposed to be allowed to invest in nice things. What was I waiting for? Would an “acceptable” time ever come? And, if it did, would I have wasted years when I could have been enjoying those things and my own life more fully?

As I began to make some of these small and simple changes—most of them being changes in my own mindset, from a temporary living mindset, to a just living mindset—I found myself experiencing greater satisfaction and joy in my day-to-day living. I found myself experiencing greater satisfaction and joy in my day-to-day living. No longer was I waiting to do, or accomplish, or act because of some outside force. I was doing as it speaks of in the Book of Mormon, of choosing to “act and not [be] acted upon.” Nothing about my previously defining circumstances changed, but I found I was happier in those circumstances, however temporary or permanent they might have been.

The value of this lesson really hit me a few months later as I was reading in the scriptures and came across a verse mentioned by the speakers. You guessed it. It was 1 Nephi 16:6. They had pointed out that the writer, Nephi, was still doing many important things while he and his family were “tent-dwelling” in those temporary years from the time they left Jerusalem, and before they reached the promised land.

As I read that verse, I wondered “just what all did happen during those years while Nephi’s father, Lehi, and his family dwelt in a tent in the wilderness outside Jerusalem? They had been promised they would be led to the promised land, but what happened before they reached that blessing?” What I found surprised me and has become the reason for why this verse holds such import to me.

During the years that Lehi and his family dwelt in a tent in the wilderness before finally leaving for the Americas, we read of some amazing things that happened. Nephi and his brothers were able to obtain the brass plates, which held the scriptures and their genealogy, allowing for their posterity to have that valuable anchor to the Lord. Lehi received the vision of the tree of the life, which is one of the most defining visions recorded in the Book of Mormon. Nephi and his brothers were married and had children—receiving some of the greatest blessings we can be given in this life. Both Nephi and his brother Jacob saw the Lord, Jesus Christ. They received valuable training and testing in their faith to prepare them for the future. And all these things were done while they “dwelt in a tent, in a valley which [was] called Lemuel.”

Nephi and his brethren obtained some of the greatest, if not the greatest, blessings while they were in this temporary phase of life. True, they had not yet reached the promised land they were being led to, but this time spent dwelling in a tent in the wilderness was filled with a richness and blessings of import beyond compare. It was not a time to ignore, or to see as less significant than what was to come. Their time of transition in this temporary state was a time of blessing, receiving, and growth.

I am so grateful for what I learned from this simple statement, which to me, encompasses great truth and principles about how I should be living and viewing my life. I want to plant crops. I want to set down roots, even if things might change again soon. I will trust in the Lord and in his promises to me and make the most of the time that he has given me, noting that even in my times of transition great blessings are there to be found. I will be joyful and I will look for the blessings and opportunities that come as I have this experience dwelling for a time in tent.

Invitation: Next time you find yourself waiting for “someday” to enjoy life or you notice you have a temporary living mindset ask yourself “what can I do to begin living life more fully now?”