Kinobius' Revenge (writing sample)

Slam!

The force of the impact shot right through the thick oak door, causing Kinobius to recoil in pain. The muffled shouts and grunts of at least half a dozen men gave a moment's notice before each impact.

Kinobius pressed himself against the door.

Slam!

One of the hinges was coming loose. The others would soon follow. How many more impacts would it take? Would it be minutes, or just seconds, before the guards pushed into the room? The window was an obvious possibility for escape, but it only took a quick glance to see that the prospects were not good.

He'd let it happen again. The fear. Kinobius still hadn't learned to control it, and it always took him from one impossible situation right into another.

That kind of fear was normally constructive. It meant he was afraid of the right things. But Kinobius wasn't in training. He'd come here to satisfy a personal vendetta, and the impossible situations were very unwelcome.

Slam!

The hinge pulled out another centimeter.

Was there a ledge going around the outside of the tower? He hadn't noticed a ledge, but he might have missed it. Positive thoughts! Good. Kinobius focused on that, careful not to let doubt or fear creep in.

He ran to the window, leaning out where he'd broken through the glass several minutes before. Sure enough, there was a ledge. There was actually a series of ledges, spaced about eight feet apart, all the way down the tower. They weren't big, but they seemed substantial, and that's what mattered.

Slam!

Metal clanged to the ground. That hinge had fallen out completely. He brushed glass off the window sill, and knocked the remaining shards of glass out of the frame.

Slam!

Kinobius stepped out onto the ledge. He was careful to think confident thoughts, but pretending not to be afraid wouldn't work for long.

Slam!

The door broke open, and the shouts of guards was no longer muffled. Kinobius was already out of sight, shimmying his way around the round tower wall. The guards would head straight for the window. They would see him if he didn't get around the wall far enough. He crept along the ledge faster, and watched the window he was leaving behind. His stomach filled with dread as he anticipated seeing a guard looking out and seeing him.

That dread was all it took. Impossibly soon, a head popped out of the window, looked down for a moment, then turned straight toward him.

Why couldn't he control it?

"He's outside! Climbing down!" The guard shouted.

He'd been seen. No more scooting around on the ledge. He needed to climb down as soon as possible if he was going to escape.

Or...

Keep climbing up. Maybe he could still get to Indle in the highest room. It was why he'd come here after all. Kinobius wouldn't sleep properly until he'd tasted the satisfaction of killing Indle.

Yes. Do it. Climb. And stop thinking. You'll ruin everything by thinking.

Maybe scooting around the tower a little further was a good idea. Better to move out of sight and leave some doubt as to whether he was climbing up or down.

Kinobius reached up to the next ledge, holding tight to pull himself up. A bad thought crept in. What if the ledge crumbled?

It didn't. Static objects wouldn't change that easily. Bad thoughts mostly just affected dynamic objects. People were basically just dynamic objects. He pushed away the bad thought anyway, and focused on climbing.

He didn't have far to climb. He'd already made it almost to the top before being cornered in that room. So he only needed to climb a couple more floors. Kinobius focused. He climbed one, then the other. He only needed to shimmy across the ledge to the window. Indle had better be there. He would be there.

Shouts came from below. Kinobius looked down to see archers drawing bows. They wouldn't miss. Kinobius knew they wouldn't miss, so they wouldn't miss. Unless…

He looked up again, and thought about the wind. He chose to fear it, which was easy, being so precariously perched on such a high ledge. The wind blew stronger in response. He pressed tight to the wall and kept moving to the window. Arrows clattered against the wall several meters away, carried away from their target by the wind. A small victory, but a significant confidence boost nonetheless.

What would he find at the window?

Stop thinking!

Would he be able to get inside?

Don't!

Kinobius eyes were locked on the window as he drew closer. The anticipation was terrible. It was his greatest enemy, and he didn't know how to fight it.

Closer.

Kinobius grabbed the outside of the window sill.

Who would be there?

Bad thought! Too late!

He pulled himself in front of the open window. Indle stood inches from him, eyes laughing, mouth crooked, dressed like a feudal lord, sword in hand.

Like lightening, Kinobius reached in the window and grabbed a handful of Indle's tunic. He pulled hard, but Indle already had a firm grip on Kinobius' shoulder. Indle's sword arm was drawn back, ready to thrust a shining blade into Kinobius' side.

It was too late. Kinobius couldn't stop it. The sword pierced cloth and skin and flesh, pushing between ribs and into vitals.

Kinobius was robbed of breath. The pain wasn't what it should have been. It wouldn't pass the limit he'd set. But it was sharp and awful.

Indle let go of his sword, and shoved Kinobius away from the tower. Kinobius tipped backward and, not surprisingly, saw exactly what he feared and hated most. Indle gloating. Indle smirking. Indle triumphant.

The falling sensation was sickening. The wind rushed past. The blade still on fire in his side. Kinobius hated it. He hated it. He'd failed.

He spoke the words as the ground rose up with terrifying speed to slam into him. The words that would save him from that awful impact. "Terminate. One. Two. Three."

The world around him disappeared. It was replaced by the metallic bulkheads of his small quarters on the warship 'Swift Justice'. The ship-wide vibrations of engines and machinery were not quite enough to drown out the sound of Kinobius' heavy breathing.

Kinobius was essentially paralyzed for the next five seconds. It was a safety measure included with the Daydream software package. It kept him from moving while in the dream state, and gave him time to adjust to his surroundings once it was over.

The paralysis began wearing off. Kinobius leaned forward against the straps in his chair. He quickly unbuckled himself, and fell forward into a heap on the cold metallic floor. His eyes burned, producing tears of rage. He slammed a fist against the floor again and again.

The hatred ate at him. He wanted to crush Indle, somehow, in some way. Daydream wasn't meant to satisfy fantasies. It was designed to train soldiers to face fears and fight through impossible situations. But it was also the most realistic virtual reality available. And it was the closest he could get to what he wanted.

Daydream worked through the brain's ability to produce dreams, and then kept the user fully cognizant during those dreams. The dreams could be hyper-realistic, because the software used his brain and his memories to create the experience. The experiences were more persistent and logical and rule-bound than typical dreams, but they were still generated in a similar way. If Kinobius feared something would happen, it often did happen. He was too emotionally invested in the idea of killing Indle. It meant that he had the chance to face Indle in almost every experience, but it also meant that his brain never let him win.

It wasn't working for him. He'd failed well over thirty times by now. And each time, his hatred for Indle had grown stronger.

Daydream was no longer an option. There was only a last resort.

Kinobius would kill Indle in real life.

He'd certainly trained himself for it long enough.

Is It Really Murder? (writing sample)

Usually it won't kill you to give someone a gift. But when my husband gave me a new set of kitchen knives for our anniversary, it was different. 

A year ago, or a week ago, or even yesterday, I would have been horrified at having committed murder. Although, until today, the way that I looked at the world was much more linear. But today I'm feeling pretty okay about murder. He wasn't exactly innocent anyway. Did he really think that cheating on his wife wouldn't have any consequences?

I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that death by kitchen knife might be a little too harsh of a punishment for a guy sleeping around. But you should have heard his apologies. Killing him didn't even cross my mind until I listened to him try to explain his behavior. In fact, it never really crossed my mind.

"It was just hormones!" he had justified. "I didn't even care about her. It was like my mind wasn't even a part of it."

"Your mind wasn't even a part of it?" I nearly choked on the words, heart throbbing, cheeks streaked with tears. But a part of me always wants to be understanding. I always try to look at things through other people's eyes.

"Yeah, it was like I was just observing the whole thing. I was just doing what my body wanted to do and it was like it wasn't even me doing it. It was passionless!" He pleaded, "I mean, I know it happened, physically, but other than that, it might as well have not happened at all. And it doesn't change the way that I feel about you. I promise!"

I had never thought of it like that before. I had never thought that an act so intrinsically meaningful could be viewed in such a detached way. It was kind of a new idea for me -that emotions don't have to be tied to even the most life altering actions. Suddenly I wasn't trembling anymore. I felt calm.

I think he knew by the look on my face that I was internalizing what he had said, and that I was trying to understand. He looked relieved and he let out a sigh. Then he opened his mouth, probably to tell me that he loved me, or to promise me it would never happen again.

That's when I did it. That's when I picked up the kitchen knife and drove it right between the ribs on the left side of his chest. And that's when I understood him. Because what I did was so simple. So emotionless. Like my mind wasn’t even a part of it. I just picked up the knife, pointed it at his chest, and leaned into it. I think I understand what he was explaining. Because it was hard for me to believe that the shocked look on his face, and the way the life went out of his eyes, could have been connected to an action that was so mechanically simple and meaningless for me.

I thought about trying to reassure him, as he started to slip away, speechless and confused. I thought about telling him that I wasn't angry and that it wasn't emotional. I thought about telling him that I understood him, because I felt like I was just observing and like it wasn't even me that did it. But I didn't say anything, because I didn't think he would believe my sincerity. I couldn't think of a way to make him understand that things really were okay between us. Everything I could have said would have sounded so cruel and vindictive.

And when he was gone, it felt so strange… because it didn't feel strange. I know you might think that killing him was an act of revenge. You might think it was a 'crime of passion'. But I was calm when I did it. I didn't feel like I had to do it. I just did it. So I really don't feel like his cheating and my stabbing were connected at all, other than through him showing me a new way of thinking.

Did I really murder him? I'm not sure. The immediate cause of death would be loss of circulation and therefore loss of oxygen to the brain. But that was a result of the knife in his heart. I put the knife there, but he gave me the knife. My part in the murder is just one link in a chain of causes and effects. It seems kind of arbitrary to point at just one of the links in the chain and put all the blame on that link. And you have to admit there was a lot of irony and stupidity in my husband's decision making today. Who cheats on his wife, buys her a set of kitchen knives for their anniversary, and waits for her to open the gift before deciding that now is the best time to tear down her world with the news of his infidelity? Can you really say that he played no part in his own demise?

I realize now that no one needs to be blamed. And I don't need forgiveness. And it's not because we're 'even' now. It's because it wasn't really murder. It was a meaningless action. It was passionless. I mean, I know it happened, physically, but other than that, it might as well have not happened at all. Our actions don't matter. It's how we feel inside that really matters.

That's what he wanted me to understand. Right?

Fire Breather (writing sample)

"Jake. Jake. Jake. Jake. Jake." Jake wasn't responding even though Odi was increasing in volume at a constant rate. Maybe Jake was just pretending to still be asleep because he already knew it wasn't important. Odi could never tell what Jake would think was important, and he couldn't remember if dragons were a good thing or a bad thing. This dragon seemed to be playing with him though, so maybe it wasn't important.

Odi kept his eyes locked on the dragon. It was part of the game they were playing. The morning sun was shining on the dark red scales on it's back, which were visible over the top of the grass that it was hiding in. Odi turned away for just a second before whipping back to see that the dragon had moved considerably closer and was now holding still partially behind a tree. It made Odi laugh and smile every time. He had first spotted the dragon when it was very far away, and it took a little while before he realized that it was playing a game with him. He was amazed that the dragon could hold so perfectly still as long as he was watching, and then move so far in the brief moments that he looked away. Odi was slightly troubled though. He had seen a painting of a dragon before, so he knew what it was when he saw it. He always remembered things that he saw, but he had a hard time remembering all of the other stuff. And now he was having trouble imagining how this game would end.

"Jake. Jake. Jake. Jake…"

"What!?" Jake groaned, now half awake and grumpy.

Maybe it was a mistake, Odi thought. Maybe he shouldn't bring it up directly. Jake was usually only annoyed by questions, but when Odi made wrong assumptions Jake would make him feel like an idiot, and Odi didn't like feeling embarrassed and stupid. Questions were safer.

"Jake, are dragons important?" Odi tested.

Jake, eyes still shut, wrinkled his forehead, "Is this question important?" Jake already seemed irritated.

"It might be. I don't know." Odi was already regretting bringing it up.

"Well, if you figure it out, let me know." Jake rolled onto his side to fall back asleep, then added, "Unless you figure out that it isn't important. Then let me keep sleeping."

Odi had been looking at Jake while they talked, but then he remembered the game. The surprise of seeing the dragon so close almost made him fall backward. It was crouched low to the ground only twenty feet away and it's wings were half spread as if it had been preparing to pounce when it had frozen still again under Odi's gaze. Odi laughed again, delighted at the creature's skill, and marveled at it's beauty and elegance. Now that it was closer, though, he noticed that the dragon's expression didn't appear playful. It stared straight into Odi's eyes with a perfect stillness that seemed to require too much focus for a game. Of course, how would he know if a dragon's facial expression looked playful or not? Still, it made him uneasy.

He thought of asking Jake again. Odi really didn't want to feel like an idiot again, but ignoring the dragon didn't seem like something normal people would do. On second thought, maybe it was normal. Odi could imagine people ignoring a dragon just as easily as he could imagine them reacting any other way to a dragon. How was he supposed to predict whether or not Jake would think it was important? Odi really needed to ask one last question, just to be sure.

He decided to risk it, "Jake. Would you want to know if a dragon was nearby?"

Jake's eyes popped wide open.

It's 6:15am on a Tuesday morning, and I haven't slept yet. I was getting ready to go to sleep, when my thoughts turned toward some experiences that I had on my mission. These memories reminded me of what I used to be capable of during a time when my whole life was focused on doing good. I don't know why, but the following lines kept flying through my head. It took a few hours to organize them into a representation of how I feel about the time that has passed since my mission. (almost 2 years now).

Could My Heart Be Courageous Once More?

For whom do I put on the gauntlets?

What merits my bold battle cry?

I used to fight alongside fighters…

Now whom would I, dauntless, stand by?

The battle once raged all around us.

The field, with fear and doubt, was fraught.

My valiant heart never failed me,

But grew to resist the onslaught.

Each new foe made my limbs to grow bolder.

Every shaft in the whirlwind fell shy.

My heart was theirs who called me captain.

Charity gave my sword wings to fly!

T’was combat that made me a champion,

Love of comrades that made my arms light.

It was danger that made me so daring,

And concern that did sharpen my sight.

Long since has the battle moved forward.

Only wind carries the distant sound.

Far behind I am left to look onward

While I shrink from my former renown.

My eyes grow dim, and armor heavy.

How feebly my hand grasps my sword!

How is it the fewer my duties,

The more duties I find I’ve ignored?

I am told that I must keep my vigil.

That my diligence makes vict’ry sure.

Don’t they know, only peril of battle

Is what made me so faithful before?

The front lines demanded such valor!

Such valor and courage I gave!

And for all that I gave, I learned power.

For such power I had, now I crave!

Before combat taught me that power

I lived weak and afraid in a hole.

I can’t go back! I must rekindle

The flame that did once fill my soul!

Are there battles to fight all around me?

Are they hidden in life’s daily chore?

If I had my eyes cleared to see them,

Could my heart be courageous once more?

-Porter Goodman

The Brilliance of Charity

When the Savior came to earth to conduct his mortal ministry, He showed the world an unprecedented example of charity. His charity was manifest in acts of compassion, acts of mercy, the miracles he performed, and in his teachings.  The love that Christ had for the whole human race was unconditional, and was never defiled or reduced by any self-serving agenda. It is simple, and even obvious to show that charity was and is the source of the Savior's compassion and mercy. However, what may be less obvious is that charity was also the source of the Savior's knowledge and wisdom. In order to understand the connection between knowledge and the pure love of Christ, we must understand what can happen to a person in the absence of charity.

Charity is a motivating force, and is the purest and most powerful motivating force that exists. However, there is one other motivating force that compels men every day. The less charity a person has, the more room he leaves open for self-centeredness to enter his heart. In the absence of charity, self-centeredness has no boundaries. It manifests itself as greed and pride. Every quality of the natural man is self-serving in nature. What is the natural man other than the physical manifestation of our self-centeredness?
Self-centeredness seems to have so much influence among the children of men because of its deceptive system of rewards. If you steal a bicycle, you are instantly rewarded with a bicycle. If you bully another person, you are instantly rewarded with a feeling of superiority. If you perform any number of a great variety of actions, you may be rewarded with money, pleasure, fame, power, and many other things. This is called instant gratification. It is deceptive because people tend to see these small temporary rewards as evidence that they can make themselves happy simply by continuing whatever behavior seems to be rewarding them sufficiently. When a person is faced with a choice between right and wrong, there is almost always some short term reward associated with making the wrong choice, or some negative consequence for making the right choice. It would probably be much more difficult for us to choose right over wrong if there weren't also long-term consequences fixed to our decisions. These long-term consequences are always a reversal on the short-term, so that over a long enough period of time, choosing right will always elevate you from where you were originally, and choosing wrong will ultimately bring you down.
Instant gratification, which is rooted in self-centeredness, is a very deceptive motivating force. Therefore, it is interesting to me, that the most basic (and perhaps most common) form of instant gratification is, in fact, self-deception. Self-deception is the means by which a person can choose to believe in an alternate reality. This kind of deception occurs mostly sub-consciously, and is very subtle. We allow ourselves to be the source of our own deceit by allowing our thoughts to be influenced by the adversary and the natural man. We can detect it by simply being honest with ourselves, as well as by paying attention to what is motivating our thoughts. In terms of right and wrong, self-deception is always wrong, because choosing to believe in a reality that is different than actual reality requires a rejection of truth.
A common example might be a young man who enjoys the sport of basketball. Regardless of how talented the young man might actually be, he may fall into the temptation of building himself up even further in his mind to be an even greater basketball player than he really is. This small, pride inspired, self-deception immediately yields the reward of feeling good about himself. However, this feeling is inflated to whatever degree he is able to deceive himself. Next, the young man confidently challenges a friend to a one-on-one game of basketball. If he wins, the slightly alternate reality he is enjoying may remain stable a while longer. But, if he is fortunate, he will lose the game and be given the opportunity to embrace the truth. Embracing the truth is the right choice, and like every choice, it comes with immediate and long term consequences. Embracing the truth comes with the immediate consequence of injured pride, but also comes with the relatively long-term consequence of improved judgement and a realignment with reality. Often the young man will so greatly fear taking injury to his pride that he will make the wrong choice, which is to protect his pride by rejecting the truth that was made manifest to him moments before. In order to reconcile his preferred reality with the loss of the game, he will simply cover up the truth by telling another lie in the form of any of the following excuses: "I was going easy on you" or, "Well, I didn't know we were playing by those rules" or my personal favorite, "I let you win". And as quickly as whichever lie he chose, he escapes from the jaws of reality, and recedes deeper and lower into the caverns of self-deception; his pride slightly bruised, but still intact.
Procrastination is another way that people deceive themselves. This is the lie that there will be enough time later on to complete tasks and fulfill all obligations. It is very subtle because in the beginning it is almost always true. It only gradually becomes a lie as more and more time passes and we lose out on opportunities to accomplish our goals. Procrastination is enticing because it starts out as a convenient truth that provides our consciences with a temporary reprieve from our responsibilities. However, the enticing nature of procrastination begs the loyalty that only truth deserves long after its nature has degenerated into a lie, and we will often fall into its alluring snare if we do not ignore the temptation altogether.
Impulsiveness is another case where self-deception is at work. A person will see something they want to do and will convince himself, consciously or subconsciously, that there is no need to consider the consequences. After all, no negative consequences are immediately apparent, and if they do exist they are negligible. Serious consequences are not considered because the person decides not to care. The truth is that he does care, or at least he will care in the future. Once the very temporary reward of his decision loses it's savor, and the long-term negative consequences begin to bring misery into his life, the crushing weight of regret will provide him with another opportunity to embrace truth. This person may realign himself with reality, or he may reject the idea that he is responsible for his own misery and lend an ear to the adversary, who will inspire him with a another lie that can cover up the truth.
Pride is inseparable from the concepts of self-centeredness and self-deception, and can quickly lead to hypocrisy. The deception, in this case, is two-fold. First, a person may convince himself that he is superior to other people, and therefore, of more worth. This is the sin of comparison. Second, a person may also convince himself that appearing to be great is a suitable alternative to actually being great. This is a sin of hypocrisy, and has many faces-- all of which are destructive to character. Appearing to be kind becomes an acceptable alternative to actually caring for others. The esteem that is reserved for righteous men has always been sought after. In order to get it, a person only has to appear to be righteous, in which case, resisting temptation and immorality no longer seems crucial as long as his sins are not discovered. For those that have fallen into this trap, this lie becomes a great obstacle blocking the way of true repentance.
Who doesn't want the respect and esteem that is given to wise and knowledgeable people? For many people, appearing to have knowledge is good enough that actually having knowledge becomes optional. The more often that someone is 'right' about something, the wiser and more knowledgeable they appear. Everyone wants to be right about what they've chosen to believe. One problem with this is that who and what is considered 'right' is usually determined by popular opinion, and does not necessarily line up with actual reality. That makes it easy for people who are influenced too heavily by pride and their self-image, to settle for appearing to be right rather than actually seeking out and gaining knowledge. A misleading connection is made, probably subconsciously, which is that learning is for people who do not know. Such an attitude naturally leads towards close-mindedness. This is a great obstacle that prevents many from gaining knowledge. It becomes, for many, an obstacle that stands in the way of accepting the restored gospel. People generally value their own religious beliefs. Over the course of a persons life, the more faithful they are to their religious beliefs, the more they feel invested in those beliefs. If they are not careful, this feeling can become so strong that when they hear a message, the more sense that message makes, the more threatening it feels, and the more closed off they become. At some point, believing that they are right becomes more important than actually being right.
What we believe to be true about the world around us depends as much on our ability to be honest with ourselves as it does on the sum of all of our personal experiences. We often use self-deception to protect our pride, justify sin, alleviate our own guilt, or to ignore responsibility. Self-deception, no matter what purpose it is used for, will always follow the pattern of instant gratification. The immediate consequences of self-deception will always reward us, while in the long run, we only become further and further removed from reality, and fall deeper into the trap of denial. Denial is a trap from which no one else can set us free. However, it will always remain in our power to escape our own deception if we can permit the Holy Ghost to help us to see where the deception is. That is why understanding the nature of motives, self-deception, and denial, does not qualify us to point fingers at those whose grasp on reality we question. In order to be a vessel through which the Holy Ghost could potentially help a person who has removed himself from reality, we would have to be filled with charity toward that person.
Earlier, we looked at the sin of hypocrisy, which occurs when a wicked person pretends to be righteous for the sake of appearance. But what if self-centeredness motivated someone to actually be good? There are promised blessings associated with every commandment that God has given to us. It is a fact of reality that living the gospel and obeying God's commandments are in the very best interest of everyone, as far as individual happiness is concerned. Is it possible that a completely self-centered person, with a knowledge of the gospel, could be motivated by his self-centeredness to obey the commandments of God? The health benefits of the word of wisdom could motivate a self-centered person to obey that law. The knowledge that good missionaries are happy could motivate a self-centered missionary to work hard and be obedient in order to make himself happy. The promise of exaltation could motivate a self-centered person to be sealed in the temple and make and keep his covenants with God. Is it possible to gain exaltation this way?
There is one example of a being so powerfully motivated by self-centeredness, that for a long time his behavior mimicked, to some degree, the Son of God. In Isaiah 14:12, a question is directed at Lucifer: "How art thou fallen from Heaven, oh Lucifer, son of the morning!"  I imagine that this question is answered specifically to the case of Lucifer in the New Testament. I imagine Lucifer answering the question himself by reciting the words of Paul:

"Though I speak with the tongues of men and angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing" (1 Corinthians 13:1-3).

I'm not sure that the Apostle Paul was thinking of the fall of Lucifer when he wrote his epistle to the Corinthians, but I find the comparison fitting. In the pre-earth life, Lucifer was an angel of light. He was a son of the morning. His rebellion against God did not spring out of nowhere. He had great influence and so he must have had high standing prior to his fall. Judging by his position and influence, he may have had great talent for words. He may have had great knowledge and understanding. He may have had great faith, and so he must have also been obedient. He may have even performed great acts of charity. Regardless of what great things he did, if everything he did was driven by a self-centered motivation rather than out of charity, then everything he did was for nothing. In Isaiah 14:13-14, Lucifer's self-deception becomes apparent. He said in his heart, "I will ascend into heaven, I will exalt my throne above the stars of God... I will ascend above the heights of the clouds; I will be like the most High". All of the good that Lucifer may have done prior to his fall, and all that he had built himself up to be, was built on a deceiving motivation. Lucifer's critical flaw was believing that he could glorify himself, and that he could elevate himself to the station of God. It was only ever a matter of time before truth would challenge his alternate reality.
At some point between the council in heaven, and Lucifer's rebellion, truth did manifest itself, and Lucifer had the opportunity to make a choice. He could have accepted the truth that would later be taught by Jesus Christ, "He the findeth his life shall lose it: and he that loseth his life for my sake shall find it" (Matthew 10:39). Lucifer proved to be unable to face the reality that perhaps everything he had ever done had been for the wrong reason, and that self-glorification was and is impossible. He was so heavily invested in his alternate reality, that instead of taking what would have been an enormous and painful blow to his pride, He chose to reject the truth. For a being who knew so much, rejecting one truth would be impossible without rejecting many other truths with it. In order to preserve his alternate reality in the wake of his rejection in the council in heaven, Lucifer would have to reject almost all truth. And in the space of time that he required to make that decision, he transformed from an angel of light into the father of lies. He covered up the truth by convincing himself that if he could sway enough of his brothers and sisters to agree with and follow him, then that would make him ‘right’. 

After losing his first estate and being cast down to earth, along with a third of the hosts of heaven, Lucifer moved on to the next lie, which was that he could prove himself 'right' by causing Heavenly Father's plan to fail. He will always have another lie prepared to cover up his failures. Indeed, the adversary and those that follow him may very well spend the duration of eternity fleeing from reality itself. Truth will forever nip at their heels as they run from it. Truth will never give them any rest. They will never be able to escape from the truth, and they will never find the courage to turn around and embrace it.

The father of lies, being utterly devoid of charity, is the most extreme example of self-centeredness that we know of. Jesus Christ is the opposite. Being equal with Heavenly Father in his capacity to love purely and unconditionally, Jesus Christ is the most extreme example of charity that has ever been observed in the history of this world. The whole human race falls somewhere in between these two extremes, and hopefully we are all gravitating toward the extreme example of charity. In the comparisons that I have made, I never meant to imply that failing to see things as they really are makes a person like the devil, or even exceptionally wicked. In the vast difference between our perfect Savior and the adversary, we can find every mortal man and woman. No one on this earth has completely overcome self-centeredness, and I doubt if anyone is utterly without charity. Neither is anyone on the way to rebelling against God simply because they do good things for less than perfect reasons. Obeying any commandment with the expectation that blessings will follow is one of the ways that we can build our faith and come to trust our Heavenly Father. However, hopefully along the way, our love and devotion to our Heavenly Father will change so that our obedience to his commandments is no longer conditional on anything. The truth is that we are all in control of what motivates us. At any time, a person who is keeping a commandment only for the blessings that come with it, can look within himself and decide that from now on he will keep that commandment because it is right, and because he loves God, and for no other reason.
It is so important to understand that when Jesus Christ passed through mortality, He did not have any resources, divine or otherwise, that are not also available to every one of us. When it comes to choosing between right and wrong, it is erroneous to think that our Savior did not know temptation, or that He was born with great knowledge. What makes the Savior so incredibly, wonderfully, unfathomably amazing, is that He lived a life that we could also live if we could only love God, and love others the way He did. One of my favorite scriptures describes this very principle. The gospel according to John records a dialogue between Jesus Christ and the Jews. At one point Jesus begins talking about his judgement. He is not referring to the day of judgement, but to his own ability to judge between right and wrong. He says, "I can of mine own self do nothing: as I hear, I judge: and my judgement is just; because I seek not mine own will, but the will of the Father which hath sent me" (St. John 5:30). The Savior had no personal agenda or self-centered motive. He loved God perfectly, and so his great desire was to do his Father's will. Because his heart was filled with pure love, He left no room for other motivating forces. This protected him from deception and the blinding power of pride, as well as all other effects of self-centeredness that would have otherwise distorted his view of reality. It also made him immovable in the face of temptation. His wisdom and his ability to judge right from wrong are unmatched in the history of the mortal world because his charity is unmatched in the history of the mortal world. Because He left no room for corrupting, distorting, perverting forces to enter his heart, his judgements were always just. He was always right. Being perfectly obedient and filled with charity, Christ also enjoyed the constant presence of the Holy Ghost, and its revelatory power. This surely bolstered the growth of his knowledge, and would benefit the knowledge and wisdom of anyone who could develop Christ-like charity.
When we are not filled with charity, or rather, when we make space available for self-centeredness to flourish in our hearts, it becomes so difficult to see things as they really are. There are so many ways that our judgement and thinking can be distorted by this false motivation. If we can drive self-centeredness from our hearts, and be filled with a love of God and of all mankind, and allow for love to motivate our actions, and especially our thoughts, then nothing will stand in the way of what the Atonement of Jesus Christ makes it possible for us to become.
Developing the pure love of Christ is the reason that each of us have come down to experience mortality. So many of the experiences we have each day seem specifically designed to help us to learn this trait. Developing charity is one of the reasons we have families. Serving in church callings or in any other capacity will help us to develop charity, if we desire it. Comforting someone who is suffering, or even experiencing suffering for ourselves will help us to develop charity. If the natural man is nothing more than the physical manifestation of our self-centeredness, then even physical temptations can and must be overcome through charity. Because we are in the midst of mortality, there are experiences we can have now, that will not be available to us when this life is over (Alma 44:42-45).  It is so important that we struggle to develop charity here and now. There is no appropriate moderation between charity and self-centeredness. Charity is not merely one more attribute on a list of the Savior’s attributes. It is the root of all other righteous qualities. The two great commandments, as stated by Jesus Christ, were to “...love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind” and, “...love thy neighbor as thyself” (Matthew 22:36-40). In keeping these two commandments, we keep all others. In developing this Christlike attribute, we develop all others. We must have it.
Those who, like Christ, are filled with charity, are motivated toward bringing happiness to those around them. Self-centered people are motivated toward making themselves happy. In achieving this motivation, self-centeredness never succeeds. On the other hand, charity never faileth! And neither will we if we spend our lives struggling to develop the defining attribute of our Savior, Jesus Christ!