To Break and Be Made

The Hidden Glory of Alignment 

(D&C 27-28)

A Call to the Wounded Heart

The concept of alignment is a delicate, sacred thing—often misunderstood, always difficult. We speak of aligning ourselves to God’s will as though it were a simple matter, as though it were a quiet, calm shift of the heart. But in truth, it is a painful thing. To align means to bend, to change, to reshape the very core of who we are. It’s not just a yielding; it’s a transformation. It is a collision of wills—the divine, pure and perfect, against our own, cluttered and self-willed. The greater the distance between the two, the greater the cost of the journey.

In Doctrine and Covenants 28, when the Lord speaks to Joseph about Hiram Page and the confusion caused by his revelations, He speaks not just about authority or divine order. He speaks about alignment. And alignment, true alignment, can break you. It can shatter your idea of who you are, what you think you need, and where you imagine your life is headed. But that is the cost—the painful, soul-stretching cost of stepping into a divine flow that isn’t based on your preferences, your desires, or your understanding. It is about becoming.

The Lord’s words to Hiram Page were not just corrective—they were inviting. To follow God’s will, to be truly in harmony with the Creator, is not to be forced into submission. It is to step into the flow of something so much bigger than ourselves that we are, in a sense, reshaped. But this reshaping often hurts because it means letting go of who we thought we were, or who we thought we should be. And that, more than anything, is what makes alignment so difficult.

The Sacrament: A Life-Altering Act

It’s easy to view the sacrament as a ritual. We partake of it, remember Christ, and perhaps find a quiet peace for a moment. But that moment—where we take the bread and water—can also be a reckoning. When Joseph was stopped by the angel before obtaining the wine for the sacrament in Doctrine and Covenants 27, it wasn’t a mere change in procedure. It was a correction in understanding. The sacrament is not just a memorial; it is a call to alignment.

To partake of the sacrament “with an eye single to His glory” is not simply to remember Him; it is to enter into a moment of realignment. It’s to stand before God and say, “I choose You. I choose Your will, even when it disrupts my own, even when it asks me to die to myself, even when it requires the breaking of my heart.” Every time we partake, we are asked to make that choice—to realign our hearts with Christ’s. And make no mistake, it is a choice that can break us. To align with Christ’s will is often to walk away from our own.

A True Wrestle

The phrase “to align with God’s will” sounds passive—until you try it. It’s easy to say, “Thy will be done,” when the Lord’s will doesn’t disrupt your own. But when the path He sets before you diverges from the one you imagined for yourself, when His will challenges your desires or your comfort zone, that’s when you feel the wrestle. In D&C 28:15, we read, “It shall be given thee what thou shalt do,” a beautiful reminder that personal revelation is available to all of us. But how often do we neglect to acknowledge the cost of that revelation?

Revelation is not a mere flood of comforting answers—it is often the piercing light that illuminates everything we have held dear and asks us to surrender it. Personal revelation is not simply direction; it is a call to change. It will not always be what we expect or desire. It asks us to realign our lives, our intentions, and our hearts to something far greater than what we envisioned. The wrestle isn’t against God; it’s against our own desires, our own comfort, our own egos.

This is why alignment is so difficult—it’s not just about adjusting the surface. It’s about reshaping who we are at our core, moving from a life that’s focused inward to one that is focused on Him. The deeper the alignment, the deeper the sacrifice.

The Armor of God: Protective Power of Submission

And then, we are given the armor of God—a stark contrast to the outward forms of power and strength the world would have us seek. The armor isn’t meant to make us invincible—it’s meant to protect our hearts. To align ourselves with God’s will doesn’t mean becoming immune to the trials of life, but it means that through the trials, we are protected. We are shielded in our hearts, in our spirits, by a divine strength that can only come from submission.

D&C 27:15-18 reminds us that we are armed with faith, truth, salvation, and righteousness—not as passive shields, but as active elements of spiritual fortification. When we align our hearts to God’s will, we are armed. We can endure, because our strength doesn’t come from the protection of our own desires or plans; it comes from God’s strength, made manifest through our willingness to follow Him.

The Call to Stand in Order

The Order of the Church, like the Order of Heaven, is one of alignment. God’s work is done in order, as we read in D&C 28:13. His kingdom is not a place of confusion, of clashing wills, or of competing desires. It is a place where everything is aligned under Christ, and we are invited to participate in that order. It is a place where His will is supreme, not out of tyranny, but out of love—because He knows that in alignment with His will, we become whole.

So, the question must be asked—what are we willing to align? What parts of ourselves are we willing to reshape, to mold into something new? Are we willing to submit, not in resignation, but in expectant faith, knowing that in aligning with God’s will, we are being led to something far greater than we could ever have imagined?

Alignment asks everything of us. But in the end, it gives back more than we can comprehend. It brings us to the peace and purpose we seek, not by following our own path, but by stepping into the path He has laid before us.

We are called to align. We are called to wrestle. We are called to be reshaped, transformed, and in the process, become something eternal.