After literally almost dying eight times in the span of two years, I understandably had a new perspective on life. During each of those scrapes with death, I received numerous priesthood blessings assuring me that my life had been spared because of what I still had to write for the Latter-day Saint market. The blessings, given through many different priesthood holders, were markedly specific. Writing for that market, I learned from divine whisperings, is my major purpose in life.

Last September, for reasons I won’t outline here, I was told I could no longer publish with Deseret Book or Covenant Communications. I came to a standstill—physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. I steadfastly believed the Lord had given me a very specific purpose. And I knew exactly how to fulfill that purpose. Simple, I thought. I had a successful track record of publishing for that market. But now the channel I had always used was no longer available. I floundered. I doubted. I cried. A lot. To read more, click the button below.

I’ll admit that until very recently, I stood around flapping my arms, not knowing what to do. If I could no longer accomplish my purpose, did I even have a purpose? What was I supposed to do with that?

Suddenly, I remembered three men. Each of them faced a daunting body of water. Each of them had a divine mandate to cross that water. Each of them was suddenly faced with the need to go to “Plan B.” And each of them did that in a different way.

On his journey toward a land of promise—as divinely directed, like what happened to me—the brother of Jared came to “a great sea” that divided the lands. There he and his people pitched tents, and there they stayed on the seashore for four years—kind of like me standing around, flapping my arms. With the Lord’s help, the brother of Jared ended up building barges and figuring out a way to light them, and then he and his people lowered themselves into the sea in an astonishing show of trust. You know the rest of the story. The Jaredites were saved.

Fleeing for their very lives from the army of Pharaoh, Moses and the children of Israel came to the Red Sea. It was impossible to cross on foot—sort of like my usual publishing channels had become impossible for me. As the army was about to overtake them, Moses stretched out his hand over the sea; the waters were divided, and the children of Israel walked across the sea on dry land in another astonishing show of trust. (You know the rest of this story, too: after the children of Israel had safely crossed, the waters came crashing back down, disabling the chariots and drowning all of Pharaoh’s army. The children of Israel were saved.)

After sojourning for eight years in the wilderness—in a way, not unlike my own wilderness of the last few years—Nephi stood on the shore of yet another “great sea.” He knew the story of Moses, but he didn’t do what Moses did. Instead, Nephi—who hadn’t even built a fire during those eight long years—turned to the Lord, who instructed him on how to find ore, build a fire, fashion bellows, forge tools, and build a ship. In yet another astonishing show of trust, Nephi’s people climbed aboard and traveled to the promised land. And you know the rest of that story, too. They were saved.

Three different men. Three distinctive seas. Three identical challenges. Three unique ways of approaching the challenge, all of them eminently successful. Three groups of people—people who displayed astonishing trust—saved.

Those three men buoy and inspire me. I realize that my purpose in life hasn’t changed. The divine reason my life was spared remains the same. I just need to change the plan—go about it in a different way. Just like Nephi, I don’t have to copy what someone else has done in reaching for my goal. I don’t even need to copy what I’ve always done. Because there are other ways to cross the water, so to speak. But I, too, need to exercise an astonishing show of trust. The best part is that I can rely on divine help to bring it all together, not unlike a brother of Jared or a Moses or a Nephi. And I can be saved.

We all can. It’s a process every one of us can make work in our lives, no matter what we face. Get creative in what you need to do to accomplish your purpose and be willing to look at things you’ve never considered. Just never lose sight of that singular purpose. Laser in on it for all you’re worth, exercise astonishing trust, and you’ll get there.

Sometimes there’s more than one way to reach a destination. Regardless of what that destination is, I can change the plan for getting there, but I must never change the destination. Most important, I can try to reach it in a new way—as always, involving the Lord.

So can you.