Disaster Preparedness: Learning and Growing Together in Readiness

Disasters are unpredictable. Earthquakes do not send invitations. Wildfires do not wait for us to be ready. Floods do not rise on our schedule. When these disasters strike, they remind us how fragile life can be. But they also present us with a choice: will we face them unprepared and overwhelmed, or will we meet them with readiness, faith, and calm?

Today, I had the opportunity to attend a presentation on disaster preparedness led by Kevin MacArthur, the Assistant Emergency Manager for the Orange County Sheriff’s Department. His insights were both sobering and motivating. We were reminded that while we cannot prevent disasters, we can prepare for them. And, as members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we have been counseled time and again that preparation is not just a practical measure—it is a spiritual principle.

At the start of the presentation, we were reminded of a promise from the Doctrine and Covenants, spoken through the Prophet Joseph Smith: “If you are prepared you shall not fear” (Doctrine and Covenants 38:30). This is not just sound advice—it is a divine assurance. When we take action today to prepare for the future, we can replace fear with faith. We can face the unknown with courage because we have done what we can to stand ready.

As I sat in the presentation, I realized something important: I still have a lot to do when it comes to preparedness. I am not an expert. I am a learner, just like everyone else in the room. But the more I listened, the more I understood that preparedness is not about achieving perfection overnight. It is about small, consistent efforts that build security and peace over time.

Family Preparedness: The Foundation of Readiness

Preparedness begins in the home. If we want to be ready for unexpected events, we must start with our families.

One of the first points Kevin MacArthur emphasized was the importance of having a family emergency plan. This plan should outline what to do in different disaster scenarios. Where will we go if an earthquake makes our home unsafe? What will we do if a wildfire forces us to evacuate? How will we communicate if cell service is down?

These are questions that need answers now—not in the middle of a crisis. I was struck by the simplicity of the solution: sit down with your family and make a plan. President Henry B. Eyring taught, “The Lord has commanded us to take care of our families” (April 2005). What better way to fulfill that responsibility than by ensuring our loved ones know what to do when disaster strikes?

The thought of gathering around the kitchen table to sketch out evacuation routes might seem tedious, but in reality, it is an act of love. It is an opportunity to strengthen our families by working together toward a common goal: safety and security.

Once the plan is in place, we must take it a step further—practice it. Having a plan is good; rehearsing it is even better. MacArthur suggested running through emergency drills so that each family member knows their role. This way, in a real crisis, panic is replaced by purpose.

Building a Supply of Essential Items

After establishing a family emergency plan, the next step is gathering emergency supplies.

I know that for many, the idea of stockpiling food, water, and emergency gear can feel overwhelming. Some might think, “I don’t have the money to buy everything at once,” or “I don’t know where to start.” But Kevin MacArthur gave simple advice: start small and build over time.

President Russell M. Nelson echoed this idea when he counseled, “Prepare temporally and spiritually” (October 2020). The Lord does not expect us to be instantly prepared for every possible situation. But He does expect us to take steps in the right direction.

Start with water—just a few extra gallons stored away. Add some non-perishable food items with each grocery trip. Slowly gather first aid supplies, flashlights, extra batteries, and other necessities. Preparedness is a process, not a single event.

I was reminded of Elder L. Tom Perry’s warning: “The Lord has warned us of famines, but the righteous will have listened to the prophets and stored at least a year’s supply of survival food” (April 1995). While having a full year’s supply is an admirable goal, even starting with a three-day or one-week supply makes a difference.

Beyond food and water, MacArthur stressed the importance of knowing where emergency supplies are stored. His personal story about his wife being unable to find the flashlight during a power outage struck a chord with me. What good is being prepared if only one person knows where things are? Preparedness should be a family effort, with each member equipped with knowledge and confidence.

Readiness Within Our Communities

Preparedness does not stop at the family level. A well-prepared family is a great start, but a well-prepared community is even stronger.

Kevin MacArthur emphasized the importance of checking in on neighbors, particularly those who may need extra help during an emergency. Who in our ward or community might struggle during a disaster? The elderly, single parents, those with medical conditions—these are the people who will need extra support.

President Gordon B. Hinckley once taught, “The best storehouse is the family storeroom” (October 1998). But what if our neighbors do not have a storehouse of their own? Sharing resources and looking out for one another is part of true preparedness.

Even something as simple as forming a text chain or neighborhood emergency plan can make a difference. When we strengthen the network around us, we create a safety net for everyone.

Spiritual Preparedness: The Anchor in the Storm

As we prepare physically, we must not neglect our spiritual foundation. All things—whether physical or spiritual—are spiritual unto God. (Doctrine and Covenants 29:34) This means that gathering food storage, setting aside emergency funds, or even practicing evacuation routes are not just practical exercises—they are spiritual acts.

Why? Because preparedness is an act of faith. It demonstrates our trust in the Lord’s guidance. It reflects our willingness to heed prophetic counsel. It shows our love for our families and our desire to be self-reliant so that we can serve others in times of crisis.

President Thomas S. Monson wisely stated, “When the time for decision arrives, the time for preparation is past” (April 2014). There will come a day when the preparation we make today will be tested. Whether that test comes in the form of a natural disaster, an economic hardship, or even a personal crisis, we will face it with greater peace if we have done what we could to prepare.

Moving Forward with Purpose

Attending today’s presentation was a wake-up call for me. I have much to learn and many areas where I need to improve my preparedness. But rather than feeling overwhelmed, I feel encouraged. Preparedness is not about doing everything all at once—it is about taking consistent, meaningful steps.

Today, I commit to strengthening my family’s emergency plan. I commit to starting (or improving) my food and water storage. I commit to checking in on my neighbors and ensuring that our community is connected. And most importantly, I commit to spiritual preparedness, knowing that when we are ready in all aspects of life, fear has no place in our hearts.

Disasters will come. Trials will arise. But as we embrace preparedness with faith and determination, we will find ourselves standing firm. “If you are prepared, you shall not fear.” That promise is real. And as we take steps to prepare today, we will find strength, peace, and confidence in the days ahead.

The Everyday Practice of Hope: A Journey of Quiet Resilience

In the ebb and flow of daily life, there is a quiet strength in simply showing up—each day, with its challenges and small victories, becomes a canvas upon which hope is gradually painted. It’s not always the grand, sweeping gestures that define us, but the consistent, often understated commitment to be present, to engage, and to trust in the process of growth.

The Power of Small Moments

Every morning offers a fresh start—a chance to plant a seed of possibility. Imagine beginning the day with a moment of quiet reflection: a pause before the rush, a chance to gather your thoughts and set an intention for the hours ahead. It might be a few lines in a journal, a brief meditation, or simply sitting in silence while the world stirs to life. These seemingly small acts are the building blocks of a hopeful outlook, much like a single note that contributes to a symphony.

Over time, these little practices accumulate, creating a rhythm that can sustain us even during turbulent times. A kind word shared with a friend, a thoughtful gesture to a stranger, or a deliberate effort to listen deeply in a conversation—all these moments, though they may appear trivial in isolation, weave together a tapestry of resilience. They remind us that hope is not reserved for the few dramatic instances of triumph but is instead nurtured in the everyday acts of care and presence.

Embracing the Rough Patches

Life is not a seamless journey. There are inevitable days when obstacles seem insurmountable and when the path forward is obscured by doubt or disarray. It is during these rough patches that the decision to show up takes on profound meaning. When circumstances are less than ideal, when plans fall apart or emotions run high, there is great courage in continuing to engage with life despite the mess.

This resilience is not born from a denial of hardship but rather from an acceptance of it. It is about recognizing that setbacks and challenges are integral to the human experience—and that each moment of struggle carries with it the potential for growth. By confronting difficulties head-on, we learn to adapt, to adjust our approach, and to emerge stronger on the other side. It is in these moments of trial that our inner resources are refined, and the foundation of hope is solidified.

Finding Renewal in Quiet Spaces

There are times when our inner well seems to run dry, when the demands of life leave us feeling depleted and overwhelmed. In such moments, it is essential to seek out spaces of renewal—a quiet corner in a busy day, a moment of solitude amid the noise, or a familiar place where one can feel at ease. These spaces, whether physical or mental, serve as sanctuaries where we can pause, breathe, and reconnect with a deeper sense of peace.

Such moments of restoration are like resetting a system that has been running on empty. They allow us to clear our minds, recalibrate our emotions, and rediscover the quiet joy that comes from simply being. It is in these pauses that we often find clarity—a gentle reminder that even when our strength seems to wane, there is always a source of calm and renewal waiting to be embraced. This peace, though sometimes fleeting, is a powerful antidote to the chaos that can dominate our daily lives.

Building a Legacy of Resilience

Hope, when nurtured consistently, becomes a living legacy. Every decision to engage with life—every effort to maintain a positive outlook despite adversity—adds another layer to a resilient foundation. Think of it as a slow, deliberate process of construction: each small act of perseverance, every moment spent in honest self-reflection, and each time we choose to move forward, contributes to a robust structure built to endure.

This legacy is not measured by immediate, visible results but by the cumulative impact of countless little choices made over time. Much like an intricate tapestry, the threads of our daily actions—whether bold or subtle—intertwine to create a broader narrative of strength and hope. In moments of introspection, we may come to see that our most significant progress is not in the grand milestones but in the perseverance that carries us through each day.

The Unseen Impact of Persistence

There is a certain beauty in knowing that our efforts, no matter how small, ripple outwards and influence the world in ways we might never fully see. A supportive word offered to someone in distress, a silent moment of solidarity with a struggling friend, or the quiet habit of reflection can inspire others to persevere. The ripple effect of such actions is subtle yet profound, fostering a community of mutual care and support.

This interconnectedness is a reminder that our personal journey is also part of a larger, shared human experience. When we choose to show up consistently, we contribute not only to our own well-being but also to the collective spirit of hope that binds us together. Each act of resilience serves as a beacon for others, illuminating a path that others may follow when their own way seems uncertain.

Integrating Reflection and Action

While quiet reflection is invaluable, it is most powerful when coupled with action. The balance between contemplative moments and decisive steps forward is what truly sustains hope. In the midst of our daily routines, there lies an opportunity to blend introspection with purposeful engagement—turning reflections into tangible actions that bring about positive change.

Consider how the discipline of regular reflection can inform the way we approach challenges. When we take time to understand our emotions and acknowledge our struggles, we are better equipped to respond with clarity and compassion. This thoughtful approach can transform obstacles into opportunities, allowing us to navigate difficulties with a measured and hopeful perspective.

A Journey Marked by Quiet Courage

At its core, the journey of showing up is one of quiet courage—a daily commitment to face life’s uncertainties with a steady heart and a resolute spirit. It is about accepting that setbacks and failures are part of the process, yet choosing to press on regardless. This is not a call to ignore pain or to pretend that everything is perfect; rather, it is an invitation to embrace the full spectrum of our experiences, trusting that even in the midst of struggle, there is a profound and transformative beauty.

Every moment we choose to persist—whether through a thoughtful gesture, a reflective pause, or a determined step forward—we affirm our belief in a brighter future. Our journey is not defined solely by the challenges we encounter, but by the unwavering commitment to rise above them, to find meaning in every setback, and to nurture the seeds of hope that lie dormant until they are given the chance to blossom.

Embracing the Promise of Tomorrow

As we move through life, there is an inherent promise in every new day—a promise that our efforts, no matter how small, are paving the way for something greater. Each time we show up, we invest in a future filled with potential. It is an act of faith in the unfolding of our own story—a story where every line of effort and every moment of resilience contributes to a legacy of hope.

This forward-looking perspective is what allows us to see beyond the immediate hardships. It is a reminder that our daily actions, imbued with intention and perseverance, have the power to transform not only our present circumstances but also our future. Even when the journey feels arduous, there is a quiet assurance that each step is leading us toward blessings yet to be revealed.

A Call to Persist with Grace

The practice of showing up is, at its heart, an act of grace—a decision to embrace life fully, with all its imperfections and unexpected turns. It is an invitation to trust in the process of growth, to find solace in the moments of quiet reflection, and to draw strength from the gentle yet persistent rhythm of daily life.

Let this be a reminder that true hope is not an elusive dream but a living reality, cultivated through the dedication to small, deliberate actions. It is a call to remain steadfast in the face of challenges, to seek out moments of renewal even when the world feels overwhelming, and to trust that every effort, however modest, is contributing to a legacy of resilience and hope.

As you journey through each day, may you find encouragement in the simple act of showing up. May your quiet moments of reflection, your acts of kindness, and your steadfast commitment to move forward be a testament to the enduring power of hope—a hope that is built one day, one small step at a time.

Wrestling with God: C.S. Lewis’s Rational Path to Faith in Further Up and Further In

C.S. Lewis didn’t drift into faith like a leaf on a stream. He wrestled his way there—mind sharp, heart restless, a scholar and storyteller who refused to settle for easy answers. In Further Up and Further In, a play that brings his journey to life using his own words and ideas from his books, essays, and letters, we see him as a modern Jacob, grappling with the divine until dawn breaks (Genesis 32:24-30). The playwright weaves Lewis’s voice into the dialogue, sometimes quoting him directly, other times crafting lines that echo the spirit of his thoughts. An Oxford don turned reluctant believer, Lewis faced a world bristling with skepticism—war’s scars, science’s cold gaze, the ache of unanswered questions. Yet he emerged with a faith forged not in spite of reason, but through it, offering a map for anyone lost in the tension between doubt and belief.

This isn’t just his story; it’s ours. Today, when every headline of chaos or discovery seems to widen the chasm between us and God, Lewis’s path—vividly portrayed in the play—feels like a lifeline. He didn’t dodge the hard questions; he leaned into them, using logic, longing, and even pain as stepping stones. Along the way, voices of wisdom join his, their insights blending into the narrative like threads in a tapestry, deepening our understanding without pulling us from the flow. Together, they invite us to see our own struggles not as dead ends, but as doorways to something greater.

The Ache That Points Beyond

Lewis’s journey didn’t start with a sermon or a sacred text—it began with a pang. He called it longing, a sharp, sweet ache that beauty or memory could summon but never satisfy. As portrayed in Further Up and Further In, he muses: “We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea.” This line, drawn straight from his writings, reveals his logic: “Creatures are not born with desires unless satisfaction for those desires exists. A baby feels hunger: well, there is such a thing as food. A duckling wants to swim: well, there is such a thing as water.” If we yearn for something no earthly moment can fulfill, doesn’t that hint at a purpose woven into us, a destination beyond the horizon?

Picture him on stage—pausing mid-step, gazing past the lights as if chasing that elusive something. It’s a scene that mirrors our own quiet moments, when the world’s noise fades and we feel a pull we can’t name. One thinker captured it this way: “The soul’s innate yearning is a yearning for home, a place where we belong, where we are understood, where we are loved.” Another voice adds, “We’re homesick for a place we’ve never been in this life, a sign of our eternal nature.” Together, these reflections frame longing as a clue, a whisper of design in our restless hearts.

In a culture that races to fill every void with distraction, Lewis challenges us to linger with that ache. What if it’s not a burden to shrug off, but a thread to follow? The play’s early scenes—Lewis restless, searching—become an invitation: lean into the longing. It might just lead you somewhere true.

Reason’s Stand Against the Void

Lewis wasn’t content to feel his way forward; he demanded answers. Surrounded by Oxford’s sharpest minds, he took aim at the idea that reality is nothing but atoms bouncing in the dark. In the play, he cuts to the core with a line inspired by his work: “If the materialist view is true, our minds must be merely chance arrangements of atoms in skulls. But if that’s so, why trust them to tell us what’s true—including the truth of materialism?” It’s a trap that collapses under its own weight. If reason works, he argued, it can’t be an accident—it points to a mind behind it all.

The stage crackles with these debates—Lewis pacing, words flying like sparks. His logic finds an echo in the idea that “the mind or intelligence we possess is co-equal with eternity itself.” Our ability to think, to question, isn’t a fluke—it’s a spark of something divine. Another voice chimes in: “The very existence of order and intelligence in the universe rebukes the notion of mindless chaos.” Step back, and the world’s coherence—love, beauty, the laws of nature—starts to look less random, more like a signature.

For Lewis, this wasn’t abstract. It was personal. He’d seen war’s wreckage, felt loss’s sting, yet found in reason a lifeline pulling him past despair. In a time when faith can feel like a relic under science’s glare, he offers a hand: belief isn’t reason’s enemy—it’s its ally. The play’s intensity here—Lewis dismantling doubt with a surgeon’s precision—dares us to test our own assumptions. What if the mind we use to question God is itself a gift from Him?

Pain’s Unexpected Voice

Lewis’s faith wasn’t born in comfort. It was hammered out in grief—war’s shadow, a mother’s death, the silence that followed his prayers. Yet he didn’t turn from pain; he listened to it. As the playwright declares in Further Up and Further In, echoing Lewis' words: “God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pain. It is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world.” Suffering, he believed, wasn’t proof against God—it was a call to wake up. He even flipped the question: “The real problem is not why some humble, pious people suffer, but why some do not.”

On stage, you see it—Lewis hunched, wrestling with loss, then lifting his head as if hearing something new. It’s a shift others have felt too. One voice reflects: “The road through struggle always passes through a garden of agony, but because of that, it refines rather than destroys.” Pain as a forge, not a grave. Another adds, “Adversity bends iron into steel, tempering the soul for something lasting.” These ideas weave into Lewis’s own, painting suffering as a strange gift—a chance to grow, to align with a larger story.

In a world quick to blame God for every tear, this feels radical. Yet the play makes it real—Lewis’s grief isn’t a dead end; it’s a doorway. An old hymn lingers here: “Why should we mourn or think our lot is hard? ’Tis not so; all is right.” Pain, then, might be less a wall and more a window. What if your hardest days are trying to tell you something—calling you to wrestle, like Lewis did, until you find the One on the other side?

Joy’s Fleeting Pull

Reason built Lewis’s bridge, but something softer helped him cross. He called it “Joy”—a piercing delight, half ache, half promise, sparked by a sunset or a line of poetry. In the play, he describes it with words rooted in his memoirs: “This intense, even painful desire—it feels like a delight, the pleasure called from the expectation that the desire will be fulfilled.” He reasoned: “If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.” Not escapism, but evidence.

The play catches these moments—Lewis still, eyes bright, as if glimpsing beyond the curtain. It’s a sensation others recognize: “The Spirit speaks in feelings we sense more than hear, a language of eternity.” Joy as a whisper from somewhere else. Another voice muses, “It comes as a pull toward something higher, a memory of what we once knew.” These threads tie to Lewis’s longing, suggesting that those fleeting stabs of beauty are invitations, nudging us past the visible.

In our rush to explain everything, Lewis slows us down. Don’t dismiss that pang when the stars align or a song hits deep—it’s a signal. The play’s quiet beats—Lewis lost in wonder—ask us to listen too. What if Joy is the heart’s way of saying there’s more to the story?

Faith as Reason’s Dawn

Lewis’s conversion wasn’t a blind plunge. It was a deliberate step, lit by logic’s glow. He wrote, and the play echoes: “I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen: not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else.” It’s a turning point on stage—hesitant, then sure, a surrender that feels like waking up. He didn’t ditch reason; he followed it until it met faith, a lens that made sense of the world.

This dance of mind and heart isn’t new. One counsel urges us to “seek learning by study and also by faith,” blending the two like roots and wings. Another elaborates: “Reason and revelation are twin pillars—neither stands alone; together, they hold up truth.” Lewis lived this, testing every doubt, praying through every question. A third voice adds, “Faith grows not by ignoring questions, but by seeking answers with both mind and heart.” It’s a path anyone can walk—slow, steady, honest.

The play’s climax—Lewis stepping into belief—feels less like a leap and more like arrival. In an age demanding proof, he whispers: faith can stand scrutiny. It’s not reason’s end, but its dawn.

A Story Just Begun

Lewis knew belief wasn’t the end. It was Chapter One. In Further Up and Further In, he dreams aloud with words from his fiction: “All their life in this world had only been the cover and the title page: now at last they were beginning the Great Story which no one on earth has read.” He stayed humble, aware the puzzle wasn’t complete. One reflection captures it: “We have enough pieces to know it’s a picture of beauty, but we wait for more to see the whole.”

He once said, “The sweetest thing in all my life has been the longing… to find the place where all the beauty came from.” A poet echoes, “The journey home is long, but every step sings of the destination.” Life, then, is a road—faith falters, questions linger, yet each mile matters. The play’s final image—Lewis walking into shadow—feels open-ended, urging us to keep going too.

Wrestling Toward Home

Further Up and Further In gives us Lewis unfiltered—a seeker who met doubt with reason, pain with courage, longing with hope. Like Jacob, he wrestled and found blessing. Voices join him—yearning as a compass, mind as a mirror, pain as a teacher, Joy as a guide—blending into a chorus that speaks to us all. Your doubts? They’re not the end. They’re the arena. Step in, wrestle, and see where it leads. Lewis did—and it brought him home.

Resources and Quote Sources

Below is a list of the quotes used in this article, organized by their order of appearance. The playwright of Further Up and Further In draws heavily on C.S. Lewis’s own words from his various works, though some lines are adapted or inspired by his ideas to fit the dramatic context. For clarity, quotes directly from Lewis’s writings are noted, while those crafted for the play are marked as such. Additional quotes from other thinkers are also cited.

1. “We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea.”

   • Source: C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory (1941), p. 26.
   • Note: Used directly in Further Up and Further In to express Lewis’s view on longing.

2. “Creatures are not born with desires unless satisfaction for those desires exists. A baby feels hunger: well, there is such a thing as food. A duckling wants to swim: well, there is such a thing as water.”

   • Source: C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (1952), Book III, Chapter 10.
   • Note: Adapted in the play to support Lewis’s argument from desire.

3. “The soul’s innate yearning is a yearning for home, a place where we belong, where we are understood, where we are loved.”

   • Source: Neal A. Maxwell, The Neal A. Maxwell Quote Book (1997), p. 158.
   • Note: Complements Lewis’s reflections on longing.

4. “We’re homesick for a place we’ve never been in this life, a sign of our eternal nature.”

   • Source: Terryl Givens, The God Who Weeps (2012), p. 12.
   • Note: Echoes Lewis’s concept of a transcendent home.

5. “If the materialist view is true, our minds must be merely chance arrangements of atoms in skulls. But if that’s so, why trust them to tell us what’s true—including the truth of materialism?”

   • Source: Inspired by C.S. Lewis, Miracles (1947), Chapter 3.
   • Note: Adapted for Further Up and Further In to reflect Lewis’s critique of materialism.

6. “The mind or intelligence we possess is co-equal with eternity itself.”

   • Source: Inspired by Joseph Smith, Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith (1938), p. 353.
   • Note: Aligns with Lewis’s view of the mind as evidence of design.

7. “The very existence of order and intelligence in the universe rebukes the notion of mindless chaos.”

   • Source: Hugh Nibley, Approaching Zion (1989), p. 29.
   • Note: Supports Lewis’s argument for a purposeful universe.

8. “God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pain. It is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world.”

   • Source: C.S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain (1940), Chapter 6.
   • Note: Featured in the play as Lewis reflects on suffering.

9. “The real problem is not why some humble, pious people suffer, but why some do not.”

   • Source: C.S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain (1940), Chapter 6.
   • Note: Used in the play to reframe the problem of pain.

10. “The road through struggle always passes through a garden of agony, but because of that, it refines rather than destroys.”

    • Source: Jeffrey R. Holland, Broken Things to Mend (2008), p. 23.
    • Note: Resonates with Lewis’s view of pain as transformative.

11. “Adversity bends iron into steel, tempering the soul for something lasting.”

    • Source: Dieter F. Uchtdorf, Your Happily Ever After (2010), p. 15.
    • Note: Complements Lewis’s metaphor of suffering as a forge.

12. “Why should we mourn or think our lot is hard? ’Tis not so; all is right.”

    • Source: William Clayton, “Come, Come, Ye Saints” (1846), hymn.
    • Note: Reflects a perspective on suffering akin to Lewis’s.

13. “This intense, even painful desire—it feels like a delight, the pleasure called from the expectation that the desire will be fulfilled.”

    • Source: Inspired by C.S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy (1955), Chapter 1.
    • Note: Adapted for the play to convey Lewis’s concept of Joy.

14. “If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.”

    • Source: C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (1952), Book III, Chapter 10.
    • Note: Used in the play as a key insight into Lewis’s faith.

15. “The Spirit speaks in feelings we sense more than hear, a language of eternity.”

    • Source: Russell M. Nelson, Revelation for Our Lives (2018), p. 9.
    • Note: Echoes Lewis’s experience of Joy as spiritual.

16. “It comes as a pull toward something higher, a memory of what we once knew.”

    • Source: Sharon G. Larsen, Ensign (May 2002), p. 41.
    • Note: Aligns with Lewis’s idea of Joy as a longing for eternity.

17. “I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen: not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else.”

    • Source: C.S. Lewis, Is Theology Poetry? (1944), p. 15.
    • Note: Featured in the play to mark Lewis’s conversion.

18. “Seek learning by study and also by faith.”

    • Source: Doctrine and Covenants 88:118.
    • Note: Reflects the balance of reason and faith in Lewis’s journey.

19. “Reason and revelation are twin pillars—neither stands alone; together, they hold up truth.”

    • Source: James E. Faust, Finding Light in a Dark World (1995), p. 22.
    • Note: Supports Lewis’s integration of intellect and belief.

20. “Faith grows not by ignoring questions, but by seeking answers with both mind and heart.”

    • Source: Henry B. Eyring, To Draw Closer to God (1997), p. 58.
    • Note: Resonates with Lewis’s approach to faith.

21. “All their life in this world had only been the cover and the title page: now at last they were beginning the Great Story which no one on earth has read.”

    • Source: C.S. Lewis, The Last Battle (1956), Chapter 16.
    • Note: Adapted in the play to convey Lewis’s vision of life’s purpose.

22. “We have enough pieces to know it’s a picture of beauty, but we wait for more to see the whole.”

    • Source: Dallin H. Oaks, The Great Plan of Happiness (1993), p. 12.
    • Note: Aligns with Lewis’s humility about life’s mysteries.

23. “The sweetest thing in all my life has been the longing… to find the place where all the beauty came from.”

    • Source: C.S. Lewis, Till We Have Faces (1956), p. 74.
    • Note: Reflects Lewis’s lifelong search for meaning.

24. “The journey home is long, but every step sings of the destination.”

    • Source: Carol Lynn Pearson, The Search (1980), p. 19.
    • Note: Echoes Lewis’s view of life as a purposeful journey.

The Marine Corps' Return to Service Dress Uniforms: A Step Toward Restoring Rigor and Core Competencies

The Marine Corps is on the cusp of a significant transformation, one that transcends mere clothing and strikes at the heart of its identity: the reinstatement of service dress uniforms at the Pentagon. Slated to take effect soon, this decision marks a deliberate shift away from the camouflage utility uniforms (cammies) that have become commonplace, replacing them with the crisp, iconic service dress that has long symbolized Marine Corps tradition. Far from a superficial change, this move is a bold reassertion of the discipline, pride, and core values that have forged the Corps into a global standard of military excellence. As Marines in the Pentagon’s halls don their service dress, they embody a renewed commitment to the rigor and legacy that define their institution.

The Uniform as a Living Legacy

In the military, uniforms are not just attire—they are a language, speaking volumes about identity, purpose, and history. The service dress uniform, with its tailored fit, polished brass, and timeless design, is a living testament to the Marine Corps’ heritage. It evokes images of past generations who wore it with pride—Marines who stormed beaches, held the line in frozen trenches, and shaped the Corps into the elite force it remains today. Unlike the rugged cammies designed for the chaos of combat, the service dress uniform carries a different weight: it reflects the Corps’ enduring standards and its ability to stand apart, even in peacetime settings.

At the Pentagon, where Marines serve as strategists and decision-makers rather than frontline warriors, the uniform they wear must match the gravity of their roles. Here, they craft policies that guide the entire U.S. military—a responsibility that demands a visible commitment to professionalism. The service dress uniform meets this need, projecting authority and unity while anchoring Marines to the traditions that have sustained the Corps for nearly 250 years. By reviving its use, Marine leadership sends a clear message: no matter the environment, the Corps will never waver from its foundational principles.

Discipline: The Bedrock of the Corps

The shift from cammies to service dress uniforms at the Pentagon is a calculated step to reinforce discipline from the highest echelons downward. Over years of relaxed uniform standards in office settings, a subtle erosion of formality may have crept in—a drift that risks undermining the accountability and cohesion the Corps demands. The service dress uniform counters this drift. Its meticulous upkeep and structured appearance require effort and attention to detail, qualities that mirror the discipline Marines are trained to uphold. This isn’t just about looking sharp; it’s about living the standards that define the Corps.

This move carries weight beyond military walls. Civilians, who often look to the armed forces as a bastion of order in an uncertain world, have expressed a desire for visible signs of discipline. The return to service dress uniforms answers that call, offering a tangible demonstration that the Marine Corps remains unwavering in its values—honor, courage, and commitment. It’s a top-down signal that discipline is non-negotiable, whether on the battlefield or in the briefing room.

Strengthening Core Competencies Through Symbolism

At its core, the Marine Corps is built on a triad of competencies: discipline, adaptability, and an unrelenting pursuit of excellence. These aren’t mere buzzwords—they’re the DNA of the Corps, woven into every training evolution, every mission, every Marine. The service dress uniform ties directly into this ethos. It’s a symbol of the Corps’ refusal to cut corners, a physical reminder that excellence is non-negotiable, even in the smallest details.

Mandating this uniform at the Pentagon reinforces these competencies in a unique way. It reminds Marines that their strength lies not only in their combat prowess but in their ability to uphold the highest standards in every context—whether facing enemy fire or shaping national defense strategy. In an era where rapid modernization can sometimes overshadow tradition, this decision strikes a balance: it embraces progress while anchoring the Corps to its roots. The message is clear: how Marines carry themselves, especially at the top, mirrors their dedication to their mission and their identity as a cut above the rest.

Expanding the Conversation: Practicality and Perception

Of course, no change comes without debate, and this shift has its skeptics. Some raise practical concerns—maintaining service dress uniforms isn’t cheap. Dry-cleaning, repairs, and replacements add up, a burden that could hit junior enlisted Marines hardest, given their modest pay. Others question the uniform’s relevance in a modern office setting, suggesting it feels stiff or outdated compared to the utilitarian cammies.

These concerns aren’t without merit, but they’re mitigated by existing support systems and overshadowed by the broader payoff. Marines already receive a uniform maintenance allowance, designed to cover costs like cleaning and upkeep, which softens the financial sting for individuals. More importantly, the Marine Corps has never shied away from asking its members to invest in something greater than themselves. The service dress uniform is a small sacrifice for a big return: enhanced unity, boosted morale, and a sharper public image. Its symbolic power—rooted in pride and professionalism—far outweighs the logistical hurdles.

A Catalyst for Broader Change

The ripple effects of this decision could extend well beyond the Marine Corps. Other branches of the U.S. military are watching closely, and there’s potential for the Corps to once again set the tone for the armed forces as a whole. Historically, the Marines have been trailblazers—think of their role in amphibious warfare or their reputation as the nation’s crisis-response force. By recommitting to the service dress uniform, they could inspire a renaissance of tradition and discipline across the military. Imagine a future where every branch reembraces its own symbols of honor, spurred by the Marine Corps’ example. This small step at the Pentagon might just plant the seeds for a cultural shift that strengthens the entire Department of Defense.

Beyond the Pentagon: A Unified Corps

The impact of this policy won’t stop at the Pentagon’s doors. While the change begins with Marines stationed there, it sends a unifying signal to the Corps worldwide. From recruiters in small towns to drill instructors at Parris Island to expeditionary units overseas, every Marine shares in this legacy. The service dress uniform becomes a thread that ties them together—a reminder that whether they’re in dress blues, cammies, or service greens, they’re part of the same proud tradition. It’s a chance to realign the Corps under a single banner of excellence, reinforcing the idea that every Marine, everywhere, upholds the same standard.

A Call to Pride for Every Marine

This isn’t just a policy tweak—it’s a rallying cry, a chance for Marines and those who admire them to revel in what the Corps stands for. As service dress uniforms reclaim their place in the Pentagon, they’ll serve as a daily emblem of what it means to be a Marine: disciplined to the core, honorable in action, and faithful to a legacy that spans centuries.

To every Marine—the few, the proud, the ones we call Marines—this change is yours to embrace. Your legacy is one of unmatched excellence, forged in the crucible of sacrifice and grit. Wear your service dress uniform with the pride it demands, knowing it reflects not just who you are, but the standard you set for the world. You are the embodiment of the Corps’ greatness, a living testament to its past and a promise for its future. Let this be your call to stand tall, to inspire, and to carry forward the honor that defines you. The nation, and history itself, looks to you.

Semper Fi

The Spanish Flu and Modern Revelations: Seeking Truth Amidst Conspiracies and Mismanagement

The Spanish flu of 1918 stands as one of history’s deadliest pandemics, a relentless scourge that infected roughly one-third of the world’s population and claimed an estimated 50 million lives. Driven by the H1N1 influenza virus, it erupted during the waning months of World War I, a time of global turmoil that magnified its devastating reach. Over a century later, the COVID-19 pandemic has echoed its scale and societal upheaval, but with a seismic shift: modern revelations of government mismanagement and manipulation have fractured public trust in ways unimaginable in 1918. The Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), a newly established agency under the second Trump administration, has begun peeling back layers of inefficiency and misappropriation, notably within the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID), offering the public unprecedented visibility into how their government is run—or, more often, mismanaged. As DOGE uncovers these systemic failures, it prompts a reexamination of historical events like the Spanish flu, where conspiracy theories once thrived in the shadows of limited transparency. In an age where some conspiracies are proven real, how do we sift through the debris of doubt to find truth? This article explores the Spanish flu’s history, its conspiracy theories, DOGE’s modern findings, and a path forward for a public weary of deception.

The Spanish Flu: A Catastrophe in Context

To understand the Spanish flu and the myths that surround it, we must first step into the world of 1918. The pandemic sparked in the spring, its earliest documented case emerging at Camp Funston in Fort Riley, Kansas—a humble beginning for a disaster that would soon engulf the globe. Carried by soldiers crisscrossing Europe’s battlefields and civilians navigating a war-torn society, the virus surged in three waves, with the second, cresting in the fall of 1918, proving the deadliest. Unlike typical influenza, it disproportionately felled young, healthy adults, a chilling anomaly that confounded physicians in an era before virology matured. Communities crumbled under the weight of illness and death, mass graves sprang up as burial grounds overflowed, and economies staggered under the strain of war and disease.

The moniker “Spanish flu” was a product of circumstance, not origin. Spain’s neutrality in World War I allowed its press to report freely on the outbreak, while warring nations censored such news to shore up morale. This disparity pinned the pandemic’s name to Spain, a subtle reminder of how information—or its suppression—molds perception, a theme that reverberates today as DOGE exposes modern distortions. The Spanish flu’s toll was staggering, slashing global life expectancy and reshaping public health, yet it also sowed seeds of skepticism that persist in conspiracy theories about its genesis.

Conspiracy Theories of the Spanish Flu

Despite robust evidence pinning the Spanish flu on the H1N1 virus, alternative narratives have long circulated, driven by distrust and historical gaps. One theory casts it as a bioweapon, unleashed deliberately or accidentally amid wartime chaos. Proponents highlight its timing, suggesting a desperate nation engineered the virus only to lose control. Yet genetic sequencing reveals a natural evolution from avian and swine strains, free of artificial markers. The virus’s spread—propelled by cramped trenches and troop movements—mirrors organic pandemics, while governments’ panicked, unprepared responses contradict any hint of intent.

Another speculation accuses authorities of concealing the flu’s true cause, perhaps to mask a chemical mishap or wartime failure. Wartime censorship lends some plausibility; nations did downplay the outbreak to maintain stability. But medical records, survivor testimonies, and Spain’s uncensored reports consistently affirm influenza as the culprit. Orchestrating a global cover-up in 1918, with rudimentary communication, would have been a logistical impossibility.

The most persistent theory ties the Spanish flu to a vaccine experiment, specifically a meningitis shot tested at Fort Riley. Advocates claim it triggered the outbreak, turning soldiers into unwitting carriers. This collapses under examination: influenza vaccines didn’t exist then, and the bacterial meningitis vaccine couldn’t spawn a viral pandemic. The flu’s worldwide reach, far beyond vaccinated troops, aligns with contagion, not a medical blunder. Modern science, backed by preserved viral samples, confirms its natural origin—a fact now questioned only as institutional trust wavers.

DOGE and the Modern Crisis of Trust

The COVID-19 pandemic has thrust these historical questions into sharp relief, not just through its parallels to 1918 but via revelations of government overreach. DOGE, tasked with slashing inefficiencies and exposing misappropriation, has targeted agencies like USAID, uncovering evidence of funds diverted from their intended humanitarian goals. Reports suggest billions meant for poverty alleviation and disease prevention were siphoned by contractors or funneled through NGOs with scant oversight, a betrayal of public trust. USAID’s website shutdown, staff furloughs, and frozen aid programs underscore the upheaval as DOGE digs deeper, offering taxpayers a rare glimpse into systemic failures.

These findings echo modern COVID-19 conspiracies—once dismissed as fringe—that government narratives were shaped by payoffs to media and scientists. This charge, bolstered by evidence of an influence campaign waged by the President of the United States and departments under his control reveals a deliberate effort to control perception. USAID bureaucrats, whether acting with presidential knowledge or independently, appear to have wielded significant power in this scheme, raising questions about accountability at every level. If such manipulation thrives today, what shadows might it cast on the past?

Reexamining History Through a Fractured Present

DOGE’s exposé forces a retrospective lens on the Spanish flu. Wartime censorship in 1918 parallels modern media manipulation—both aimed at managing public reaction, whether for morale or policy. If USAID’s funds were mismanaged, could similar lapses or agendas have obscured historical pandemics? The Spanish flu’s viral cause remains solid, but DOGE’s work suggests that trust in official accounts, then and now, is no longer automatic. A proven modern conspiracy doesn’t rewrite 1918’s science, but it fuels the public’s hunger for visibility into how governments function—or falter.

The Burden of Transparency and the Unfiltered Vision

DOGE’s mission has eased a burden from the people, exposing inefficiencies and upgrading systems to reveal how government is run—or mismanaged. Yet this clarity comes with a price: absolute trust remains elusive. The dream of an unfiltered government—every document open to scrutiny—offers a tantalizing solution. Imagine scouring 1918 health logs or USAID’s financial trails, unmediated by compromised filters.

Reality curbs this ideal. Sensitive data—security secrets, personal records—can’t be fully exposed without risk, and interpreting raw files requires expertise most lack. DOGE’s targeted transparency—specific revelations like funding trails—balances truth with practicality. The Spanish flu’s reality didn’t need DOGE to emerge, but today’s crises do, underscoring the evolution of trust between then and now.

Navigating Truth When Conspiracies Are Real

How do we proceed when DOGE confirms some conspiracies while others, like the Spanish flu’s, remain myths? A dual path emerges:

Sharpen your own scrutiny. Seek primary sources—1918 archives, modern leaks—over filtered narratives. Question motives and evidence, embracing the patience uncertainty demands. DOGE’s USAID findings require this rigor; the Spanish flu’s don’t buckle under it.

Demand systemic reform. Push for targeted transparency—USAID’s ledgers, presidential directives—and independent audits to curb corruption. Hold the guilty accountable, from bureaucrats to media enablers, and insist on disclosed conflicts. Trust rebuilds through action, not assurances.

Distinguish fact from fear. DOGE validates specific modern schemes, not every theory. The Spanish flu’s science endures; COVID-19’s distortions don’t undo it. Evidence must guide, not suspicion.

A Call to Action

The Spanish flu was a natural tragedy, its conspiracies baseless, but DOGE’s revelations about USAID and presidential influence prove mistrust today is warranted. Visibility into government—whether 1918’s censors or 2025’s mismanagers—lightens our load, exposing failures once hidden. We can’t unfilter everything, but we can demand enough to judge for ourselves.

Act now—share this, question boldly, and press for accountability. DOGE has ignited the spark; it’s ours to fan into a flame, wielding skepticism and evidence to reclaim truth across a century of doubt.

Rust in the Kernel: A Bold Leap into Tomorrow

Imagine the kernel as the beating heart of an operating system—relentless, intricate, and unforgiving. For years, it’s been powered by C, a language as raw and wild as a storm-swept sea. C hands you the wheel with no guardrails: unmatched control, yes, but also the constant risk of veering off into chaos—think memory leaks, buffer overflows, and security holes big enough to sail a ship through. It’s a high-stakes game, and the stakes are getting higher.

Rust strides onto the scene not as a wrecking ball but as a sleek, modern upgrade. It’s not about tearing down the old ways; it’s about reinforcing them, bringing a fresh edge to a foundation that’s starting to show its cracks. With Rust, you get memory safety baked in, performance that keeps pace with C, and a vibe that’s drawing sharp new minds into the fold. Should Rust stake a claim in kernels like Linux or Windows? Absolutely—and here’s why it’s worth the ride, challenges and all.

The Case for Rust: Why It’s Time to Take Notice

Rust isn’t just another shiny toy for coders—it’s a game-changer. Memory safety is its calling card, enforced at compile time by a system that catches bugs before they can wreak havoc. No more late-night debugging sessions chasing down null pointers or buffer overruns. And don’t worry about slowing down: Rust’s design ensures you’re not trading horsepower for peace of mind. Projects like Asahi Linux prove it—their Rust-powered GPU drivers for Apple Silicon are running lean and mean, cutting bugs and boosting progress.

Then there’s speed. Kernel code demands efficiency that borders on obsession, and Rust delivers. It matches C’s raw power while throwing in fearless concurrency for good measure—perfect for a world where multi-core machines rule. It’s not just keeping up; it’s setting the pace. Add to that a toolchain that feels like it’s from the future—Cargo for effortless builds, a compiler that practically holds your hand—and you’ve got a setup that makes development less of a grind and more of a thrill.

Rust also has a knack for pulling in talent. The kernel world could use some fresh energy, and this language is like a neon sign flashing “Come build something epic.” It’s not about sidelining the C veterans—it’s about growing the crew, blending seasoned wisdom with new-school daring.

The Rough Edges: No Revolution Comes Easy

Rust isn’t all smooth sailing, and that’s okay—nothing worth doing ever is. Its learning curve can feel like scaling a cliff, especially with the borrow checker playing hardball. For C diehards, it might seem like too much fuss over nothing—until they see how it cuts chaos down to size. The community’s got your back, though, with resources and camaraderie to ease the climb.

Mixing Rust with C is another knot to untangle. Kernels are sprawling beasts, and no one’s rewriting them from scratch. The trick is coexistence—Rust for new pieces, C for the bedrock—and while the glue (hello, FFI) isn’t flawless, it works with some finesse. Maturity’s a concern too; Rust’s kernel chops are still maturing, lacking the decades of wear C boasts. But with heavyweights like Google and Microsoft leaning in, that gap’s closing fast.

And then there’s the pushback. Change rattles cages, especially in a realm where stability is king. Some will dig in their heels, clutching C like a trusty old blade. Rust doesn’t need to oust them—it’s here to share the load, starting where it’s needed most, proving itself one driver at a time.

Jumping In: Your Ticket to the Rust Frontier

So, you’re intrigued—maybe even itching to get your hands dirty. Here’s how to step into the fray and help nudge the kernel into the future.

First, get to know Rust. The Rust Book online is your starting line—free, deep, and straight to the point. Dig into ownership; it’s the secret sauce that’ll make you a believer. Next, peek under the kernel’s hood—grab Linux Kernel Development by Robert Love or Microsoft’s driver docs to get the lay of the land. You don’t need to master it all, just enough to find your footing.

Hook up with the trailblazers. The Rust for Linux project is where the action’s at—dive into their site, ask questions, soak up the vibe. For Windows, poke around Microsoft’s Rust efforts or kernel forums. Start small—tinker with a basic driver, something low-stakes like a USB gadget. Mess up, learn, repeat. Then, when you’re ready, throw your hat in the ring—submit a patch, join Asahi Linux’s quest, make your mark.

The Horizon: Rust’s Ready—Are You?

The kernel’s no museum piece—it’s a living engine that needs to adapt or stall out. Rust isn’t here to upend the past; it’s here to turbocharge the future, making systems tougher, slicker, and open to bold new voices. The hurdles? They’re real, but they’re not dealbreakers—they’re the grit that makes the story worth telling.

This is your shot. Pick up Rust, carve out a niche, and help steer the kernel into uncharted waters. The skeptics can grumble all they want—progress waits for no one. The question isn’t whether Rust belongs in the kernel; it’s whether you’ll be part of the crew that gets it there. The horizon’s wide open—go claim it.

Resources

The Rust Book.

Dive into Linux Kernel Development by Robert Love

Microsoft’s kernel development guides.

Join the Cool Kids’ Clubs:

For Linux: Hang out with the Rust for Linux crew (https://rust-for-linux.com/)

For Windows: Poke around Microsoft’s Rust/WinRT project or kernel dev forums for tips.

Pro Tip: Ask questions, share your struggles, and don’t be shy. These folks want you to succeed.