Saturday, February 14, 2026

The Humpty Dumpty Effect: When All the King's Men Fail, but the Savior Succeeds

The Humpty Dumpty Effect: When All the King's Men Fail, but the Savior Succeeds

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,  

Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.  

All the king's horses and all the king's men 

Couldn't put Humpty together again.

We know the rhyme, but let's imagine the backstory through the eyes of Mr. and Mrs. Dumpty—devoted parents who poured their hearts into raising their son right. From the time he was small, they taught him the truths they held dear: to pray, to walk humbly, to love others, to avoid the slippery paths of pride, anger, deceit, and sin. They warned him of high walls built on shaky foundations—walls of self-reliance, worldly ambition, or rebellion against what is good. "Stay low, stay close to the ground of truth," they might have pleaded. "The view from up there isn't worth the risk."

Yet Humpty chose the wall anyway. Perhaps it started small: a little compromise here, a flirtation with darkness there, until wickedness took root. The very things his parents tried to shield him from—arrogance, addiction, bitterness, or outright rebellion—pulled him higher and higher until the inevitable tumble came. Shattered on the ground, pieces scattered, irreparable by human hands.

Mr. and Mrs. Dumpty would have stood there, hearts broken, tears flowing. "We taught him better," they might whisper through sobs. "We showed him the way, we loved him fiercely, we prayed over him every night. Why didn't he listen? How did our boy end up like this?" Their grief would mix sorrow with a quiet guilt—not that they failed as parents, but that love alone couldn't force obedience. The "Humpty Dumpty Effect" is that painful reality: even the best parenting, the strongest warnings, and the world's finest repairs (the king's horses and men) can't mend what sin and poor choices have shattered when the individual turns away from light.

But the story doesn't end in ruins.

There is One who sees the scattered pieces—not as hopeless wreckage, but as a soul worth redeeming. Jesus Christ, the Great Restorer, doesn't merely attempt to reassemble what was; He makes all things new. He understands the fall because He descended below all things, taking upon Himself every pain, every consequence of wickedness, every parental heartbreak.

As Isaiah prophesied in the Bible: "He was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed" (Isaiah 19:2 RE). Christ doesn't stand distant like the king's men; He kneels in the dust with the broken, binding up the contrite heart (Psalm 34:4 RE: "The Lord is near unto them that are of a broken heart; and saves such as be of a contrite spirit").

In the Book of Mormon, the prophet Alma teaches of this merciful power: "He'll live among mankind suffering pains and afflictions and temptations of every kind... so that He can know from experience in the flesh how to assist His people to accept and overcome their infirmities" (Alma 5:3 CE). Christ knows the ache of wayward children because He feels the full weight of every fall. He invites the prodigal, the shattered, the one who ignored wise counsel: "Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy loaded, and I will give you rest" (Matthew 6:8 RE).

And to parents like Mr. and Mrs. Dumpty—those who have done all they could yet watch a loved one fall—He offers solace too. In 3 Nephi, the resurrected Savior comforts grieving parents and a broken people: "My arm of mercy is reaching for you. Anyone who comes to Me, I'll receive them; those who come to me will be blessed." (3 Nephi 4:7 CE). No fall is beyond His reach. No wickedness too deep for His Atonement to overcome through sincere repentance.

The Humpty Dumpty Effect reminds us that human efforts often fall short, and parental love, while powerful, cannot override agency. But Christ's love can. He doesn't just put the pieces back together—He heals the cracks, strengthens the shell, and lifts us to safer ground. For Humpty, for the wayward child, for the grieving parents: there is restoration in Him.

If you've felt the sting of the Humpty Dumpty Effect—in your own life or in someone you love—turn to the Savior. He specializes in miracles no king's men could perform.

Signed

John The-Not-So-Beloved


Sunday, February 1, 2026

I chased the harlot Isabel

I know what you're thinking -- "Fornicator!!" - this should be juicy."

Says Alma to his son Corianton as rebuke -- "You made me ashamed when you abandoned the ministry and traveled to Siron…to chase the harlot Isabel." (Alma 19:1 CE) - He says he "chased" her -- never really says whether or not he caught her - perhaps "chasing" was the point. 

Short Story
It was 2006-2008 - I was the member/manager of a startup renewable energy company. There were four members; me, a lawyer, a jack-of-all-trades and a geologist - Dr. Carl Austin. Carl had traveled all over the world as a weapons, shape charge, and underground fortifications expert for the Navy. As it turns out he was also one of the worlds foremost authorities on geothermal energy and drilling. He had began geothermal work for the Navy and developed the Coso Geothermal source from discovery through full production as the second largest geothermal electrical plant in the United States (third largest in the world) at that time. Carl was our expert and in his mid 70's he still wanted to explore and develop. 

In the 1960's when Chevron Oil Company was drilling for oil all around the west, Carl was their team's geologist. In many cases Chevron would drill for oil, casing the well as they drilled, only to find hot water - very hot water - often as hot as 500-600 degrees Fahrenheit. Since they weren't looking for water they'd cap the well, abandon it and move on. 

Fast forward to 2006 and our little startup. As it turns out, there were only two copies ever produced of the location and drill logs of each of those abandoned hot water wells. One in Carl's possession and the other, maybe, in some long forgotten Chevron storage warehouse. Only now, with a cultural emphasis on renewable energy, the renewable energy that the hot water could produce when developed would be nearly as valuable as the oil would have been had they found it.

Our little start up selected the sites with the hottest water and best flow rates (as recorded in the 60's) and set about leasing the land, proofing the wells for continued resource, finding investors, and arranging financing for the development of large scale geothermal energy production.  

Long story shortened - by mid 2008 we had over 200 million dollars arranged for development and signed a 6 billion dollar contract to deliver renewable energy into California cities over the next 30 years with graduating purchase commitments as our developed resources expanded and grew. We were going to have wealth beyond anything we'd ever imagined. 

Then October 2008 came along. The capital markets were in the midst of one of the most severe phases of the 2008 global financial crisis. This was the peak period of panic, extreme volatility, and near-breakdown in normal market functioning following the Lehman Brothers bankruptcy on September 15, 2008.

The financial system was experiencing acute fear and loss of confidence. Banks and other institutions stopped trusting each other, leading to a near-freeze in credit markets. Normal lending and investment largely seized up because nobody knew which counterparties might suddenly fail. Stock markets were in free-fall, bond markets were chaotic, and many asset classes saw massive sell-offs as investors tried to raise cash and flee risk.

Despite contractual obligations, to us and from us, it was the end of the road for us. Our pursuit of Isabel was over. We chased her - never caught her.

It was the best thing that after happened to us.

I'm not suggesting that pursuit of business ventures is at all wrong or bad but what I am saying is while we were in pursuit of natural man success, for me at least - at that moment in time - spirituality and spiritual things played in the background waiting - even though we prayed daily for success. My bad, but that's my point.

Understood in context, Isabel was a prostitute or someone involved in immoral/sexual enticements, which led Corianton to prioritize personal desires over his sacred calling. The scriptures emphasize accountability—Corianton "should have stayed with the ministry" entrusted to him (Alma 19:1 CE). But instead, "you proceeded to brag of your strength and wisdom" (Alma 19:1 CE). His actions not only damaged his own faithfulness but also harmed the work among the Zoramites by undermining trust and example.

The Bible and Book of Mormon often use "harlot" or "whoredoms" symbolically for anything that lures people away from covenant loyalty to God—whether idolatry, pride, materialism, worldly pursuits, or distractions that "steal away the hearts" (as Isabel did to many). In the Old Testament, Israel is repeatedly called a "harlot" for chasing foreign gods or alliances instead of remaining faithful to Jehovah (e.g., Ezekiel 6:3-14, Hosea RE). In the Book of Mormon itself, terms like "whoredoms" sometimes describe spiritual unfaithfulness beyond just sexual sin.

In my own life there are times when I've let the spiritual priorities play in the background while the pursuit of material wealth, position, etc. played in the foreground -- always promising myself, and the Lord, I'd reprioritize spiritual things permanently to the foreground and use my "wealth" for the Lords priorities and purposes once I'd "secured" my position. Of course it's a lie that I would tell myself. I never abandoned spiritual things, just let them hang around my life in the #2 position waiting for the day. The trouble is the pinnacle of wealth and position is a poison and elusive because we always want "more" and never really arrive to replace the material foreground with the spiritual even though we promise ourselves we will.

It's a classic human conundrum—the tug-of-war between the material and the spiritual often feels like a zero-sum game, where one must dominate the foreground while the other lurks in the background, waiting for its turn. The real trap isn't the pursuit itself; it's the illusion that there's a "pinnacle" to reach where you can finally flip the switch permanently. That endpoint is a mirage,—the hedonic treadmill keeps spinning, and "enough" morphs into "just a bit more."

Psychologically, we're wired for survival and status-seeking, which makes material goals feel urgent and tangible. Measurable progress: promotions, bank balances, possessions are observable conditions. Spirituality, on the other hand, is often more abstract and internal—it's about presence, meaning, and connection, which don't come with KPIs (key performance indicators) or deadlines. When guilt kicks in, it's like a course correction, but if it's reactive rather than integrated, it just perpetuates the cycle. You end up bargaining with yourself (or God) like a dieter promising "one last cheat day," only to find the cheat days never end.

In that light,—we all chase some version of "the harlot Isabel" when we let lesser things pull us off course from what's eternally important: our covenants, family, service, spiritual growth, or divine purpose. It could be:

-The pursuit of status, wealth, or validation that makes us boast in our own "strength and wisdom" (as Corianton did earlier).

- Addictions, entertainment, or habits that consume time and energy better spent on ministry, relationships, or God.

- Pride or self-justification that leads us to abandon responsibilities.

- Fleeting pleasures or distractions that feel compelling in the moment but leave us ashamed or distant from the Spirit.

The power of Alma's words to Corianton lies in the call to refocus: repent, forsake those pursuits, and return to the path (Alma 19:2 CE urges turning from "lusts of the eyes" and not being led by the devil after such things). The story doesn't end in condemnation—Corianton repents, returns to faithfulness, and later becomes a strong missionary (Alma 19:2 CE implies his recovery).

This isn't just ancient history about one young man's mistake. It's a mirror for all of us. We each face our own "Isabels"—those seductive distractions that promise excitement or fulfillment but ultimately lead away from the steady, diligent path Alma praised in Shiblon (Corianton's better brotherly example). The invitation is the same: recognize them, choose what's truly important (faithfulness to God and His work), and realign our hearts. That's where real strength and wisdom come from—not in chasing the temporary, but in steadfastly pursuing the eternal. 

Here's the challenge - something has to govern - the natural man, or the spiritual man. 

The "natural man" (the part driven by instinct, survival, status, pleasure, security, comparison, accumulation) and the "spiritual man" (the part oriented toward meaning, transcendence, surrender, compassion, alignment with something larger than ego, eternal perspective) really do operate from fundamentally different operating systems. Their ultimate goals diverge:

- The natural man wants to "win the game" of the visible world—more resources, more safety, more esteem, more control, more experiences.

- The spiritual man wants to be free from needing to win that game at all—seeing through its impermanence, finding fulfillment independent of conditions, serving rather than grasping.

If something has to govern, what actually has the authority to govern the other?

- The natural man can never permanently govern the spiritual man because spiritual vision sees the emptiness/limitation of purely natural goals.  

- The spiritual man can govern the natural man—not by violence, but by reestablishing natural desire inside a larger meaning. Hunger becomes gratitude + generosity; ambition becomes stewardship + service; pleasure becomes celebration of existence.

So in practice, the most stable arrangement people seem to find is not a 50/50 partnership, but a clear hierarchy where the spiritual self holds the ultimate veto power and the natural self is given wide latitude to operate within that veto.

The classic - "Wherefore, seek not the things of this world, but seek first to build up the kingdom of God and to establish his righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you" (Matthew 3:39 RE) is not  a prosperity promise, but a priority statement that realigns the natural drives.

In the end we never caught our Isabel but the chase was thrilling.

The crisis of 2008 closed the door we had spent years prying open. Contracts were signed, money was committed, wells were hot—and then the world stopped spending and lending.  

I used to think that was the tragedy.  

Now I think it may have been the kindness.  

Because if we had caught her—if the capital had flowed, if the plants had spun up, if the checks had started arriving—I’m not at all sure I would have kept the promise to flip the priorities. The hedonic treadmill would simply have raised its speed another notch. “Just a little more” would have become the new baseline, and the spiritual man would have stayed in the passenger seat, offering occasional polite suggestions while the natural man drove faster toward a destination that keeps receding.

Alma didn’t tell Corianton the harlot was evil in herself. He told him the greater evil was leaving the ministry to chase her. The real loss was not pleasure foregone, but was a calling forsaken.

So maybe the most honest prayer I can pray now is not “Lord, give me another Isabel to chase,” and not even “Lord, take every Isabel away forever.”  

It’s simpler, and harder:  

“Lord, keep the steering wheel in the right hands. 

When my natural man reaches for it—as he still does—remind me who the driver actually is.  

And if I forget again, and start running after the next shimmering promise,  

Please be kind enough—once more—to close the door before I reach her.”

Because some pursuits are only merciful when they end in interruption.


Signed,

John The-Not-So-Beloved