Dam Washed Out Again
By Davis Bitton

Remains of Woodruff Colony Dam
(Image from LUHNA website)

John Bushman was an Arizona pioneer. With others he was called to leave Utah and settle on the Arizona frontier in 1876. Like many others from 1847 on, he had to overcome an initial reaction of wanting to stay put where life was pleasant and where he had put down roots. Nevertheless, like pioneers sent at other times to Utah's Dixie, to Bluff through the Hole-in-the-Rock, to Star Valley, Wyoming, and elsewhere, he gathered his family and joined a company that would proceed to the valley of the Little Colorado.

It was a forbidding environment. To raise crops, they had to irrigate. This required dams. Available technology fell far short of the cranes and reinforced concrete used today. They did what they could to check the flow of the water by dragging into the river logs and rocks and dumping load after wagon load of dirt. Finally there was enough strength in the dam to back up the stream and allow water to be channeled out into ditches.

The trouble, as we can well imagine, was that such dams did not hold very well or very long. Year after year, the men of these sparse settlements would build or strengthen the dam, only to have it wash out later.

Wouldn't you be discouraged? Discouragement is a pretty common human trait. We all have a taste of it. It must be one of those trials of the flesh intended to "prove us herewith."

We have heard sermons on adversity from the beginning of the restoration to the present, and books have been written on the subject. Some of these are excellent in helping us to understand, providing comfort in the short run and, in the long run, hope. "This too shall pass away" — the gospel does indeed provide a larger, eternal perspective.

But cheap advice is seldom welcome. Neither Job's counselors nor Voltaire's Pangloss are good models for Latter-day Saints. Those in the midst of severe trials are not helped by the jaunty optimism of those who have somehow escaped the same pain. It is a violation of Christian charity, Robert Millett has said, for parents whose children have all turned out well to sit in judgment on, or self-righteously lecture, those who, having tried just as hard and with as many prayers, have had to endure the pain of watching a child abandon the path.

I think of loss of employment and terrible illnesses that attack those certainly not "deserving" of such an onslaught. Alcoholism. Drugs. Abuse. Kidnappings. Entire families killed on the highway. There is no scarcity of crushing negative experiences that tend to produce discouragement. Carlfred Broderick, that wise counselor, instructed us that clinical depression, or melancholy as it was traditionally denominated, could be seriously immobilizing. Very good men and women have been so afflicted.

Mere words seldom suffice in bringing about a cure; instead they often simply increase the guilt and despair. Recognizing the great difficulty posed by this illness not only to the person afflicted but also to spouse and family, Broderick urged that professional help be sought as early as possible. With acute awareness of how difficult life can be for some people, here is the question I would pose. Clinical pathologies with their biochemical component aside, what is our discouragement threshold? What does it take to immobilize us? How much of an obstacle throws us into anxiety and depression, making us want to give up?

Mormon settlements in the Little Colorado River Basin.
(Image from LUHNA website)

Here is what John Bushman, our Arizona pioneer, wrote in his diary on one occasion: "Dam washed out again. We are not discouraged." What he meant, I think, is "We will not give up. We will keep striving. Our courage and determination are still intact."

Hasn't that been the pattern of Latter-day Saint reaction to trials from the beginning? When the Saints were driven from Missouri in 1839, Eliza R. Snow wrote, "Though deep'ning trials throng your way, press on, press on, ye Saints of God." Press on — that was what they could do and what those of faith did do.

One of the roles of prophets, in the midst of battle, has been to keep the ranks organized, to buoy up spirits, to strengthen morale. "Brethren, shall we not go on in so great a cause? Go forward and not backward. Courage, brethren, and on, on to the victory! Let your hearts rejoice, and be exceedingly glad" (D&C 128:22). Thus the Prophet Joseph in 1842.

And who can fail to rejoice in the persistent cheerfulness of President Gordon B. Hinckley? Over and over again he has said in effect, "I know not what course others may take, but I am not discouraged."

In October 1995 conference, for example, after being sustained as president of the Church earlier that same year, he delivered a great discourse entitled "Stay the Course — Keep the Faith."

“There have been makers of threats, naysayers, and criers of doom," he said. "They have tried in every conceivable way to injure and destroy this church. But we are still here, stronger and more determined to move it forward. To me it is exciting. It is wonderful ... I invite every one of you, wherever you may be as members of this church, to stand on your feet and with a song in your heart move forward, living the gospel, loving the Lord, and building the kingdom. Together we shall stay the course and keep the faith, the Almighty being our strength."

Unless you are that rare individual from central casting who has no challenges, whose children are always perfectly behaved, who never has a bad hair day, disappointments come. But they must not crush us. Praises go to those who can write in their journals or say in their hearts, "We are not discouraged. We will not give up. We will stay on track."