We hear a lot in the Church about “enduring to the end” and rightfully so. It is a fundamental principle of the gospel and it is clearly and repeatedly taught in the scriptures. For me, however, when I am in an emotionally “beaten and bruised” condition—when I feel so overwhelmed, inadequate, and so far beneath what I want to be and what I think the Lord expects of me—“enduring to the end” is not a happy or hopeful gospel principle. Like me, you have wondered at times, “How can I endure to the end when I can’t even endure this moment?” I believe that my “bad attitude” about endurance (and that of many others that may feel like giving up when they hear the word) comes from a doctrinal misunderstanding of what the Lord really expects of us. “Buck up,” “Grit your teeth,” “Put your shoulder to the wheel,” “Grin and bear it,” “Tough it out,” are all phrases that immediately come to mind when I think of endurance. The visual image in my mind is of this courageous young cross-country runner, with a badly broken leg, crawling all alone to the finish line.

Part of my misunderstanding of this doctrine is that I have believed, mostly sub-consciously, that “enduring to the end” is something that must be done all by ones self—what I call “pseudo-self-reliance.” Sometimes we fall into the trap of thinking that we must do everything on our own and that it is only those weak in the faith that reach out for help. I do not think that is what the Lord wants me to believe. In fact, I know that He doesn’t want me to believe such a notion. I can’t imagine the Savior standing over me when I have fallen in the race of life—when I have spiritual or emotional “broken legs,” when I am painfully “crawling” along, or when I am barely hanging on by my fingernails—standing over me and scolding me. No, I can’t imagine that. If that was my image of the Master, I would surely give up. Thank goodness that the scriptures portray a much different view of the Lord—an image of love and compassion, an image of an outstretched hand that will lift us up, strengthen us and see us through to the finish line. We are not left alone to crawl on our hands and knees. His grace enables our “enduring to the end.” Lehi’s vision of the “Tree of Life” illustrates this doctrine well.

Lehi saw the faithful “pressing forward” to the tree of life, secured by “continually holding fast to the rod of iron.” Nephi teaches us that the iron rod is the word of God (see 1 Ne. 15:23-24). There are several passages in the Bible where John the beloved Apostle identifies Christ himself as the Word of God (see John 1:1, 14; JST John 1:16; Revelation 19:11-16). In this light, Lehi and Nephi are teaching us that Christ is both the means—the rod of iron—and the end—the Tree of Life. What a difference it should make to us to know that amidst all of the “mists of darkness” in the world and the scoffing and mocking from the “great and spacious building” we are not left to find our way alone! The Savior—the Word of God—is not merely pointing directions and shouting encouragement from the shade of the tree of life. As the iron rod, Jesus provides us the only way to our desired end and also our protection against the mists of darkness and the taunts from the great and spacious building. “Whoso would hearken unto the word of God, and would hold fast unto it,” Nephi declared, “would never perish, neither could the temptations and fiery darts of the adversary overpower them unto blindness, to lead them away to destruction” (1 Ne. 15:25).

As you have read that familiar story in the Book of Mormon, did you notice that no one makes it to the Tree of Life without taking hold of the iron rod? It is not just a matter of “pressing forward.” Notice that not one of the “numberless concourses of people” seen by Lehi and Nephi came and partook of the fruit of the tree without tightly taking hold of and continually clinging to the rod of iron. Not one made it on his own—no matter how hard he tried, no matter how determined he was, no matter how good his sense of direction. On the other hand, every one that let go of the rod were lost—either lost in the mists of darkness, drowned in the depths of the filthy river, or wind up “lost” in a different way in the great and spacious building.

There have been many times in my life when I have tried to partake of the “fruit” of the “Tree of Life” by just “pressing forward” on my own. I don’t think I was conscious of the fact that I was doing it, but it was like I was just “gritting my teeth” and pushing forward against the “mists of darkness” and the “fiery darts of the adversary.” At times I probably made good progress as my path paralleled the rod of iron. At other times, however, I got lost or my strength abandoned me and I was left crawling on my hands and knees.

Now when I think of the iron rod, I don’t just think of a narrow path and an iron-rod railing. I think of Him with outstretched hand and arms of mercy wide open. Even if I am battered, bruised, broken down, and crawling, as it were, on hands and knees, I just need to grab hold of that hand—and never let go. With my hand in His, only then does my “pressing forward” lead me to the tree. I don’t have to find my own way to the tree (in fact, I can’t). I just need to find my way to the rod, then reach up, take hold, and hang on. Only then is my pressing forward—whether fast or slow, big strides or baby steps—with “a steadfastness in Christ” and a “perfect brightness of hope” going to enable me to endure to the end (see 2 Ne. 31:20). Enduring to the end is not just to “keep going.” It is taking hold of His rescuing hand, holding on tight, following where He guides us, and never, never letting go.

Not many months before our mission ended, the mother of one of our missionaries passed away. Her death was both sudden and shocking—especially to her son serving in our mission. I had the dreaded task of informing him. I prayed for guidance. I wanted to say just the right thing so that this elder would be comforted in his grief and strengthened in his service. I felt inspired to take the elder and his companion to the Nauvoo temple where I broke the news as we sat in a sealing room. It was a tender and sacred moment. We were alone in the room, but not alone. The veil was indeed thin. I felt both humbled and honored to share in this sacred moment and experience those sacred feelings. In the months that followed, I was inspired by how this young man dealt with his loss and heartache. Not for a moment had he considered cutting his mission short and going home. Not for a moment did his pace slacken or did his work suffer. In fact, he worked harder and in many ways, was even more effective as a missionary. He bore this challenge with incredible strength and grace. How was he able to do it?

Not long ago, Sister Top and I attended the sacrament meeting where this remarkable young man reported his mission. We saw a stark contrast between this spiritually mature, confident, powerful missionary and the fearful, struggling nineteen year old who had come to our mission two years earlier. The Spirit of the Lord was upon him. There was no doubt about that. As he spoke of his mother’s death and how he dealt with it, he made a simple observation that powerfully affected me. “I held on to the iron rod,” he declared, “even when I couldn’t see the tree of life.” That is true faith in the Lord. That is “pressing forward with a steadfastness in Christ.” That is enduring well. May we take hold of the iron rod and never let go.