The Rhythm of Undulation
When I search for the word “cycle” in LDS references, it’s almost never positive. There are talks and guides explaining the shame cycle, pride cycle, or the Israelites going through cycles of sin and deliverance.
I had always been taught that constant, steady righteousness is the goal. Going through periods of sin, distance from God, and then clawing our way back is a sign of weak faith. Cycles, it seems, are proof of some natural failing or inconstancy with our commitments to serve God.
But what if cycles are not circles? What if they advance us? What if passing through cycles is not only natural, but instructive and necessary?
I often think about Eve and the decision she made to eat the fruit, her subsequent expulsion from Eden and the presence of God with Adam. I’ve never read any indication that she regretted this choice or fall from grace.
And in that day Adam blessed God and was filled, and began to prophesy concerning all the families of the earth, saying: Blessed be the name of God, for because my eyes are opened, and in this life I shall have joy, and again in the flesh I shall see God.
And Eve, his wife, heard all these things and was glad, saying: Were it not for our transgression we never should have known good and evil, and the joy of our redemption, and the eternal life which God giveth unto all the obedient. (Moses 5: 10–11, emphasis added)
It seems to me that the goal shouldn’t be to avoid these faith cycles, but to flow with them. Much like rapids down a river or switchbacks on a hiking trail, these deviations from a straight and narrow path actually make us stronger and wiser.
Thinking this way turns the iron rod and the marked path into guardrails that catch us when we struggle, not a strict blueprint. Then we can reasonably assume that exactness is impossible and actually contrary to the Father’s plan.
Troughs and Transformation
An idea captured my attention in C.S. Lewis’s The Screwtape Letters. Screwtape, a senior demon, writes to his nephew, Wormwood, about undulation. In one letter, Screwtape warns Wormwood not to get too excited when his human’s commitment to faith and church seem to fade. Wormwood sees this as a victory and Screwtape essentially tells him he’s naïve and stupid. He explains:
Humans are amphibians—half spirit and half animal … As spirits they belong to the eternal world, but as animals they inhabit time. This means that while their spirit can be directed to an eternal object, their bodies, passions, and imaginations are in continual change, for to be in time is to change. Their nearest approach to constancy, therefore, is undulation—the repeated return to a level from which they repeatedly fall back, a series of troughs and peaks. (emphasis added)
Screwtape continues to explain why God may prefer troughs to peaks.
It is during such trough periods, much more than during the peak periods, that [humans are] growing into the sort of creature He wants [them] to be.
He wants them to learn to walk and must therefore take away His hand; and if only the will to walk is really there He is pleased even with their stumbles.
Scripturally, some of our most celebrated faith stories are of people who have fallen, stumbled, and openly waged war against God until they have what’s referred to as a “change of heart.” Paul the Apostle, Peter, David, Alma the Younger and the sons of Mosiah—all stumbled or even actively worked against God.
They repent, they change, but would they have done so if it weren’t for their troughs?
My faith was challenged much more than I expected during the pandemic. The global necessity to isolate and limit person-to-person contact meant that most of my social interaction happened on social media. Between a heated presidential election and an even more volatile discussion about race in America, I read the unfiltered opinions of many of my neighbors.
I lost my faith in the goodness of people and became more cynical.
I lost my desire to commit to church—an institution administered by men, marching the same undulated path and plagued with bias, misunderstanding, and limited understanding.
I was hurt. I was angry. I was hopeless.
And yet. I still desired that feeling of warmth and closeness to the Divine. I knew that I couldn’t do what I had done before; most of those places of sanctuary had been tainted.
I had to look outside of what I knew. While social media can often lead seekers down a toxic rabbit hole, I was fortunate to find many uplifting resources there. Yes, some fed the cynical side of my heart, but other voices encouraged my searching through faith. Hearing from a variety of sources helped me heal and continue through my faith progression.
From Christian evangelists to feminist theologians to therapists to Black history scholars, I found nuggets of truth and healing everywhere. I felt the hands of my Heavenly Parents guiding me toward a new level of faith completely independent of my church affiliation.
I became more and more centered in the gospel of Jesus Christ as I found Him in every part of my social circle.
Faltering Forward
While studying business principles, I stumbled onto a Ted Talk by Bill Gross, a successful investor and fund manager. He was explaining the single biggest reason start-ups succeed.
It wasn’t money, talent, the idea, or the business model. The biggest factor in a startup’s success was timing, which is not to say that the other things don’t matter. Of course you need a good idea and steady funding, but the timing matters more.
He uses the example of Z.com, an online entertainment company he started in the late 90s. There was just one problem: video streaming was too difficult for everyday users to enjoy. The large data files took too long to download, really messing with the overall experience. The company closed in 2003.
Fast forward to 2005: Adobe Flash had fixed the data compression issue, allowing for fast and easy streaming, and video content was becoming more common. And YouTube launched. It seems inevitable now that the company would become such a success. The idea, the team, the timing: it all came together perfectly.
So it is with our spiritual progression.
We want so badly for our future to be easy to map out. We hope that if we follow a list of must-dos (read and pray every day, go to church every Sunday, marry in the temple, go on a mission) and learn from the mistakes of others, then it will be possible for us to never falter.
But that’s not the point, is it?
So often, the lessons we learn won’t be learned unless the conditions are right. Humility isn’t learned from a book and faith isn’t gained until after the test. Spiritual success, by which I mean becoming more and more like the Savior and in tune with the spiritual frequency of things, isn’t forced or learned solely through study. It’s gained through experience.
Learning the right lessons at the right time. Or more importantly, having eyes to see and ears to hear when all of our assumptions and hubris are stripped away.
Finding God in Troughs of Life
Again, I ask, what if our faltering is all part of the plan?
We talk often about the conditions of the Restoration. Humanity was prepped for centuries through various movements: the Renaissance, the Enlightenment, the founding of the United States, and the Second Great Awakening. Every step and learning was essential to producing a fourteen-year-old boy who was spiritually primed to hear and follow the voice of God.
I strongly believe that what God performs at a macro level, He performs at individual micro-levels, too. What we see as a cycle of sin—trying and failing on repeat—are essential lessons in becoming like God.
After years of redefining my faith, after countless articles and books, and hours of honest reflection, I can finally say that I’m finding peace. It’s the type of peace I remember from my missionary days. In the morning while I studied or as I waited on an empty platform for a train, I’d let my mind drift to God and feel with resounding certainty that I was exactly where I needed to be.
I don’t have every answer, but I’m confident that God will always reach my reaching.
My “failings” have also made me more empathetic. I have more compassion for the split-faith couple as they compromise their way through faith and family. I’m not worried about a young adult who is less active, nor am I afraid when a friend or family member decides to leave the Church.
I trust the process of undulation. I have faith that “all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28, emphasis added).
I’m grateful for this trough that opened my eyes, checked my judgment, and made me tolerant and compassionate toward people, attitudes, and doctrines different from my own.
Jen Hunsaker graduated from the University of Utah with a B.A. in English and a minor in French after serving a mission in Belgium and France. A native of Utah, she lives in Draper with her husband and 4 children and owns a fintech marketing agency.
Art by Oleg Shurkus.