In a dream, or a vision, the prophet Lehi was led by a heavenly messenger through a dark and dreary wasteland to a tree that bore delicious fruit that was satisfying to his soul. He saw a river of water nearby along which was a straight and narrow path leading to the tree. Between the riverbank and the path was a rod of iron.

Lehi saw large groups of people pressing forward to gain access to the spacious field where stood the tree with its appealing fruit. As they moved along the path, a great and blinding mist of darkness arose. Many on the path lost their way, wandered off and were drowned in the murky water or were lost from view as they wandered onto strange paths. There were others who were also in danger of being lost because of the blinding mist; however, they caught hold of the iron rod and held their course so that they also could partake of the delicious fruit, despite the difficulty and danger of the journey.

Gratefully, in Lehi's dream of the Tree of Life the Lord provided a fixed and firm symbol of how to successfully navigate mortality and return to enjoy the blessings of eternity with a kind and loving Father in Heaven. (See 1 Nephi, chapters 8 and 15.)

The symbol: the rod of iron.

"And I beheld a rod of iron, and it extended along the bank of the river, and led to the tree by which I stood" (1 Nephi 8:19). Later, Lehi's son Nephi explains that the iron rod "was the word of God; and whoso would hearken unto the word of God, and would hold fast unto it, they would never perish; neither could the temptations and the fiery darts of the adversary overpower them unto blindness, to lead them away to destruction" (1 Nephi 15:24).

Holding firmly and resolutely to that rod — signified by the steadfastness of iron — will, without question, lead us through the sometimes dark times of mortality and into the love of God.

But while holding firmly is absolutely necessary, it is not completely sufficient.

We must also press forward.

And sometimes a pause — perhaps to only momentarily look at the great and spacious building — significantly disrupts that pressing forward.

Pausing momentarily because we temporarily lost our footing or because we were repositioning ourselves to deal with one of life's unexpected crosswinds is understandable. That pause isn't to look for something different, it's to reaffirm our grasp. After all, pressing forward is as much a state of the heart and mind as it is a state of the physical body.

But if our pause is to look, perhaps just because we're curious, to find out more about the great and spacious building or, even worse, if our pause is to gaze longingly, even if for only a moment, that portends a serious problem.

Pausing, even if we think we're still holding the iron rod, at best slows the journey. Worse, it distracts our focus at a critical time. Even worse, it could easily give place in our hearts for the things of the world.

A pause along the path can be a prelude to departure from the path. Departure from the path means, of course, letting go of the rod.

That isn't to say mortals should duck their heads and ignorantly trudge forward, knowing neither why they are trudging nor where the path will lead.

Rather, pressing forward requires a steadfastness in Christ (see 2 Nephi 31:20), and an understanding of not only "how" one gets to the tree of life but of "why" getting there is so desirable.

Pausing disrupts that process.

Pausing might well be the temptation most difficult for the faithful or, at least, the mostly faithful. These good sisters and brothers would never even think about committing some great sin symbolized by the great and spacious building. But they would, by pausing, wonder about — and, therefore, open their hearts and minds to the possibility of partaking of — some far-more subtle distractions that, for them, could easily become just as debilitating.

A list of such distractions — the things that might cause us to pause as we proceed — is nearly impossible to compile. In many ways, it is as individual as the individual himself.

But, clearly, there are small and simple things, which, if done every day, will help us avoid the pause. We simply must pray, sincerely and honestly. We simply must feast on (not just read or listen to) the word of God. We simply must serve and help our fellowmen. And each week, we simply must worthily partake of the sacrament and seriously review our status with the Savior.

As these efforts become part of our daily lives, our hearts change. We become better mortals. And we further the process — because we have not paused along the way — of becoming "even as I (the Savior) am" (3 Nephi 27:27).