When I was a kid, the men in my family regularly went wilderness camping. The most common form was via canoe trip in Quetico Park located in Northwestern, Ontario. These canoe trips were packed full of paddling, portaging, fishing, and swimming. There were some rainy difficult days, blistering heat, and can’t catch them fast enough fishing moments. One of the moments that I often think about were some of the miserable days. These days were filled with few stops, little food, trials and major adversity. These aren’t the days that I loved about the canoe trips, but they are the days that helped me to build character. One such occasion was on a set of Portages that we dubbed “Memory Lane” because of the length and misery involved with the trip. This day involved a series of three portages with short paddles in between. Now, if you’re unfamiliar with a portage, it’s a hike between two bodies of water. If you’re on a canoe trip, you need to transport all of your packs, canoes, fishing rods, and gear across said portage. They can be a nice break from paddling, but these were not a nice break. These were the kind of portages where you are grateful to get back in the canoe. The first of these portages was a cinch, a measly 800m hike through the woods. Our first clue of misery might’ve been the number of trees that had fallen and hadn’t previously been removed, almost like no one else had been that direction in awhile. We cleared the path and portaged into a small unnamed lake and paddled 20 minutes to the next portage. This was to be the real test. The point of no return. It was a 1300m portage. (Just under a mile.) But it wasn’t the distance that was so rough. We did a portage four days later that was much longer. No, it wasn’t the distance that killed us, it was the terrain. This was some of the boggiest portaging many of us had ever been on. It reminds me in hindsight of the fire swamp, but without the R.O.U.S’s and blasts of flame and instead of bottomless pits of lightning sand, it was 3-5 foot deep pools of muskeg, covered with enough moss to make the ground seem firm.
My dad would tell of his frustrations as, ‘take two steps, sink into the muskeg, toss the canoe off his shoulders, take off the food pack, toss it into the canoe and drag your mud-soaked body up some tree roots till your footing was ok, put on the food pack, hoist the canoe back up, take 3 steps and sink again. Repeat, Repeat, and Repeat some more.’ I dodged a bullet on this canoe trip though, as I was 12 and was only really responsible for my own pack, plus fishing rods, paddles and any other smaller things. That didn’t stop me from sinking into the mud with everyone else. Luckily though, I had a cousin who was also 12 and travelled the portage with me. We would practice this game of how many steps we could take before we’d sink, then laugh our fool heads off and drag each other out of the muskeg. We didn’t always sink, sometimes we were light enough, that we could slide along, but sometimes, even the surest ground would shift and we’d sink. We’d giggle and laugh at each other’s precarious predicament then help each other out and carry on. My dad has spoken of how that helped him to push through his own frustrating situation.
We reached the end of the portage, dropped our packs, wiped off whatever muck was still hanging off us and headed back for another load. When everyone’s packs, canoes and gear made it safely across the portage, we all took a few minutes to clean off before canoeing to the next portage. This last portage was 1070m and presented its own challenges, as we were all soaking wet and the portage had many hills and drops, each filled with muddy crossings. We were already spent from Portage #2, but slogged on, finishing that third portage completely exhausted. Limping our canoes halfway across Conmee lake, till we found a suitable campsite.
I think about that time often, especially in relation to life. Each of those portages presented problems. Each tested us differently. It would’ve been easy to want to give up. But the experience of each portage made us more able to handle the challenges of the next portage. It also helped that Conmee Lake was amongst the best fishing of that particular trip.
Sometimes we take two steps forward and sink. Sometimes we want to curse and yell and shake our fist at the heavens. The trials and temptations that each of us face can easily be overwhelming. Luckily on that trip, we had a map, and those with experience who knew how far we needed to go. In life, we have maps and those who are experienced. We can lean on the scriptures, on prayer and on the leaders of the Church 
to lead us and guide us. We also have the Holy Ghost as a constant companion to urge us forward. Most importantly we have the love of our Saviour, who knew that we would fall, get soaked in water, covered in mud and would want to give up, but He’s always there, begging us to keep trying, offering His hand to help us back up and press on. Regardless of the load we carry, He can help us. “The Lord knows you personally and perfectly. He loves you!” (D. Todd Christofferson)
Sometimes we forget that He completely understands what the mud feels like, what your shoulders feel like when they are sunburnt, carrying a load, striving to move forward and still fall. Sometimes we forget that Jesus suffered for our trials and temptations. That He knows the depths one feels when they are overcoming the world. He knows what true adversity feels like. He was left utterly alone, to suffer the pains of addiction, of abuse, of physical pain and suffering, of trials of all kinds. He was left alone! He fell below us all, all alone. “Because Jesus walked such a long, lonely path utterly alone, we do not have to.” (Jeffrey R. Holland) 
He walked that path so that we would have someone who knows the what our struggles are like. We are never alone, because He loved us enough to suffer for us. “In spite of our weaknesses and failings and because of them, He continues to offer His hands, which were pierced for our sakes.” (O. Vincent Haleck)
Knowing He loves us, suffered for us, and understands the exact situation we are each in is encouraging. It means that He knows what we are going through. We cannot afford to turn away from our Saviour. “Why would you ever turn away from the only Saviour who has all power to heal and deliver you? Whatever the price you must pay to trust Him is worth it.” (Robert C. Gay)
Our lives are a miracle. The fact that we exist is a miracle. Each breath is a miracle. The opportunity we have is nothing short of a winning lottery ticket for each of us. We are given the tools we need to succeed. We are also given challenges, trials, and temptations not to cripple us, but to push us. If it were easy, it would not be worth it. A life of ease is not a life of growth. If life were easy, without trials or temptations, where we could remember the pre-Earth life, very few of us would even think to sin. That was Satan’s plan. No Sin, we all make it, but in that plan, there would be no growth. no benefit to living this life, beyond getting a mortal body. I’m grateful for the plan of salvation, for the fall of Adam and Eve. I’m grateful for my trials and temptations. I’m grateful that my job is challenging. I’m grateful that wife isn’t perfect although I strongly hold the opinion that I married up. I’m also grateful that my wife and kids are ok with my many imperfections and I’m grateful for opportunities to be better. I’m grateful for the mud and muskeg in life, that reminds me to slow down and be grateful for the smooth roads. I’m grateful for children, parents, a spouse, in-laws, friends, co-workers and acquaintances who are living a very similar life and are okay and even forgiving of my shortcomings. I’m grateful for those Angels, physical or spiritual, who stand along the route, encouraging and lifting others out of the muskeg.
When we are bogged down in the mires of life. We can be buoyed by the knowledge that God is aware of us and wouldn’t allow these trials if it wasn’t for our benefit.”No pain that we suffer, no trial that we experience is wasted. It ministers to our education, to the development of such qualities as patience, faith, fortitude and humility. All that we suffer and all that we endure, especially when we endure it patiently, builds up our characters, purifies our hearts, expands our souls, and makes us more tender and charitable, more worthy to be called the children of God … and it is through sorrow and suffering, toil and tribulation, that we gain the education that come here to acquire and which will make us more like our Father and Mother in heaven. (Orson F. Whitney)
I recently reviewed a Jeffrey R. Holland talk entitled, “Lessons from Liberty Jail.” In it, Elder Holland shares the trials and indignities that Joseph Smith and company suffered in Liberty Jail. These trials included unlivable conditions, spoiled or poisoned food, and isolation from their family and the saints. They were put in the most inhospitable conditions imaginable. But there are lessons in this. “You can have sacred, revelatory, profoundly instructive experiences with the Lord in the most miserable experiences of your life.” (Jeffrey R. Holland)
We all have or will suffer. No two trials are the same. We will each be carrying different loads and have different strengths and weaknesses. The mud might be deeper for some, but they might be better equipped to handle the deep mud. Some might not be carrying much of a load, but they might be the ones who received the harshest of sunburnt shoulders. We cannot afford to go through life thinking that we are the only ones we suffer through the mud and the cold. We cannot afford to think that in our suffering, that the Lord has turned His back and left us alone. He is ALWAYS there for us. He NEVER leaves us. That is true love. So press forward. He is waiting for us.
~Todd Bruce
@elkvalleylatterdaysaint
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