1 Nephi 17 Part III

When God Doesn't Hand You Blueprints

When Nephi was commanded to build a ship, it wasn't really about building a ship.

It was about the growth that comes when God invites us to build something that has never existed before.

That's different.

Most people build from existing blueprints. They improve what someone else has already figured out. Nephi couldn't order Shipbuilding for Beginners from Jerusalem. And even if he could, Nephi's ship was not built "after the manner of men."

Every pioneer eventually reaches a point where there are no instructions left. The maps end. The manuals stop. The trail goes no further.

At that point, you either quit...

...or you begin receiving instructions from somewhere else.

That's a breathtaking idea.

That's why I have a feeling this story isn't ultimately about ancient shipbuilding.

It's about what God does whenever He invites someone to create something genuinely new. Throughout scripture, He repeatedly invites ordinary people to do things that have never been done before. That seems to be one of the ways He works. It is part of the adventure of following Him.

What If I Don't Have a Ship?

But what do you do when you haven't received instructions to build your proverbial ship?

Perhaps we're asking the wrong question.

As I spent more time with chapter 17, I began to realize that the ship wasn't the first time Nephi had been asked to do something without a blueprint. It was simply the latest in a long series of "firsts."

Leaving Jerusalem had never happened before.

Returning to retrieve the brass plates certainly hadn't.

Convincing Ishmael's family to abandon everything and join them in the wilderness was unprecedented. Then came the broken bow, the appearance of the Liahona, and eight years of surviving in the wilderness while raising a family.

Looking back, I wonder if building the ship wasn't God's first project.

Perhaps building Nephi was.

A Pattern for Revelation

One small detail in chapter 18 quietly changed the way I think about revelation.

After the ship was finished, Nephi never explained how he designed it. He didn't describe the engineering, the measurements, or the construction process. Instead, he described his relationship with God.

"...I did go into the mount oft, and I did pray oft unto the Lord; wherefore the Lord showed unto me great things."

That detail stopped me.

Nephi wasn't handed a complete set of blueprints. He wasn't given every answer at once. Instead, he kept returning to the mountain. He prayed often. He sought the Lord often. And over time, the Lord showed him "great things."

That feels like more than a detail about shipbuilding. It feels like a pattern for revelation.

We act on what we already know, then return to God for more light. He gives us enough to continue, and as we move forward, He reveals the next piece. Over time, what once seemed impossible gradually takes shape.

Perhaps that is why revelation so often feels different from receiving instructions. Blueprints arrive all at once. Revelation usually comes one faithful step at a time, inviting us back into the mountain again and again.

The Ship Interrupted His Life

I also wonder if Nephi never saw the ship coming.

Sometimes we read chapter 17 as though Nephi had been searching for his life's great mission and finally found it. But that's not how the story unfolds.

He wasn't wandering through the wilderness asking, "Lord, what incredible thing are You eventually going to ask me to do?"

He already had plenty to do.

There were mouths to feed, bows to repair, children to raise, difficult family relationships to navigate, and another day's journey through the wilderness. His focus wasn't on discovering some future calling. It was on faithfully living the one already in front of him.

Then, after many days in Bountiful, the Lord simply said,

"Go into the mountain."

Everything changed.

That observation has stayed with me because I wonder if many of God's invitations work the same way.

We spend so much time looking for our "ship" that we miss the adventure already unfolding around us. We fail to recognize the "firsts" He is already placing in our path. We imagine that our real work will begin someday in the future, when perhaps God is already quietly inviting us to follow Him today.

Nephi wasn't looking for a ship.

He was following God.

The ship simply interrupted his life.

Ocean to Ice

I've noticed something similar while working on Ocean to Ice.

When I first imagined this expedition, I assumed the deepest experiences would happen at the famous places—the overlooks everyone photographs, the iconic trails everyone recommends, the destinations I had spent years dreaming about.

Surprisingly, many of them happened somewhere else.

They've happened after an unexpected prompting. After changing the plan. After following a trail that wasn't on my original itinerary. After deciding to explore instead of simply checking another destination off the list.

Those moments have reminded me that adventure isn't really about geography. It's about following God into places where there isn't already a blueprint.

That's true on a mountain trail, and I suspect it's just as true in everyday life.

If you feel like God is inviting you to do something you've never done before, pay attention.

It may not become a ship.

It may become something much quieter.

Or much bigger.

Either way, I've come to believe those invitations are rarely random. More often than not, they're part of how God leads us into the next chapter of our lives.

Trail Line

God rarely hands us blueprints.

He invites us to walk with Him instead.

Adventure Scripture

"And I, Nephi, did go into the mount oft, and I did pray oft unto the Lord; wherefore the Lord showed unto me great things."

— 1 Nephi 18:3