It's always interesting to see how the Spirit works in the life of Joseph Smith. There are many times when he does something, then seems to stop and ponder briefly, and then relents and reverses his course. Here are two examples, one from the memoirs of George Miller and another from Howard Coray. Interestingly, both of these involve Joseph at first deprecating or doubting himself, and the correction needed is for him to step up and magnify his calling.
Studying these accounts may help you to better understand the way the Spirit works in your own life.
Emphasis added in bold.
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I had a friend in Quincy who had in one of his houses the families of Joseph Smith, Sen., Samuel H. Smith, Don Carlos Smith, Jenkins Salsbury, and a Brother Henry Hoit. He said they were all destitute and he thought gentlemen, and would suit my purpose. I waited on the venerable patriarch and those under his roof. He frankly said that his sons would take charge of my farm and effects, and praised God that I had been sent in answer to his prayers...
Getting in speaking distance, he suddenly reined up his horses as making ready to speak. I was much agitated as the words came from his mouth: "Sir, can you tell me the way to the farm of a Mr. Miller, living somewhere in the direction I am going?" Instead of answering him directly, my reply was, "I presume sir, that you are Joseph Smith, Jr., the Mormon Prophet?"
"I am, sir," he said, adding, "I also presume that you are the Mr. Miller whose farm I inquired for?" "I am, sir," I replied. He then introduced me to his wife and family.
I solicited him to preach. He excused himself as not feeling like sermonizing, having just escaped from prison; that he felt like a bird uncaged and was more disposed to reconnoiter the country and visit his friends and people. Upon my urging the matter, he suddenly turned to me, saying that he did think of some one of the elders preaching for me, but he was now resolved on doing it himself; that it had been whispered that a Samaritan had bound up the wounds of his bleeding friends, adding that he would do the best he could in the way of preaching. Accordingly the time and place was fixed upon, and I went to notify the people of the appointment of the Mormon Prophet to preach.
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In June, 1841, I met with an accident. The Prophet and I, after looking at his horses and admiring them across the road from his house, started thither. The Prophet at the same time put his arm over my shoulder. When we had reached about the middle of the road, he stopped and remarked, "Brother Coray, I wish you were a little larger. I would like to have some fun with you."
I replied, "Perhaps you can as it is"—not realizing what I was saying. The fact that Joseph was a man of over 200 lb., while I was scarcely 130 lb., made it not a little ridiculous for me to think of engaging with him in anything like a scuffle.
However, as soon as I made this reply, he began to trip me. He took some kind of a lock on my right leg, from which I was unable to extricate it, and throwing me around broke it some three inches above the ankle joint.
He immediately carried me into the house, pulled off my boot, and found at once that my leg was decidedly broken; then got some splinters and bandaged it. A number of times that day he came in to see me, endeavoring to console me as much as possible.
The next day when he happened in to see me after a little conversation, I said: "Brother Joseph, when Jacob wrestled with the angel and was lamed by him, the angel blessed him. Now I think I am also entitled to a blessing."
To that he replied, "I am not the Patriarch, but my father is, and when you get up and around, I'll have him bless you".
He said no more for a minute or so. Then, looking very earnestly at me, he declared, "Brother Coray, you will soon find a companion, one that will be suited to your condition and whom you will be satisfied with. She will cling to you like the cords of death; and you will have a good many children."
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If I esteem mankind to be in error, shall I bear them down? No. I will lift them up, and in their own way too, if I cannot persuade them my way is better; and I will not seek to compel any man to believe as I do, only by the force of reasoning, for truth will cut its own way.
I could not love thee, dear, so much,
Loved I not Honor more.
Studying these accounts may help you to better understand the way the Spirit works in your own life.
Emphasis added in bold.
===============================
I had a friend in Quincy who had in one of his houses the families of Joseph Smith, Sen., Samuel H. Smith, Don Carlos Smith, Jenkins Salsbury, and a Brother Henry Hoit. He said they were all destitute and he thought gentlemen, and would suit my purpose. I waited on the venerable patriarch and those under his roof. He frankly said that his sons would take charge of my farm and effects, and praised God that I had been sent in answer to his prayers...
Getting in speaking distance, he suddenly reined up his horses as making ready to speak. I was much agitated as the words came from his mouth: "Sir, can you tell me the way to the farm of a Mr. Miller, living somewhere in the direction I am going?" Instead of answering him directly, my reply was, "I presume sir, that you are Joseph Smith, Jr., the Mormon Prophet?"
"I am, sir," he said, adding, "I also presume that you are the Mr. Miller whose farm I inquired for?" "I am, sir," I replied. He then introduced me to his wife and family.
I solicited him to preach. He excused himself as not feeling like sermonizing, having just escaped from prison; that he felt like a bird uncaged and was more disposed to reconnoiter the country and visit his friends and people. Upon my urging the matter, he suddenly turned to me, saying that he did think of some one of the elders preaching for me, but he was now resolved on doing it himself; that it had been whispered that a Samaritan had bound up the wounds of his bleeding friends, adding that he would do the best he could in the way of preaching. Accordingly the time and place was fixed upon, and I went to notify the people of the appointment of the Mormon Prophet to preach.
================================
In June, 1841, I met with an accident. The Prophet and I, after looking at his horses and admiring them across the road from his house, started thither. The Prophet at the same time put his arm over my shoulder. When we had reached about the middle of the road, he stopped and remarked, "Brother Coray, I wish you were a little larger. I would like to have some fun with you."
I replied, "Perhaps you can as it is"—not realizing what I was saying. The fact that Joseph was a man of over 200 lb., while I was scarcely 130 lb., made it not a little ridiculous for me to think of engaging with him in anything like a scuffle.
However, as soon as I made this reply, he began to trip me. He took some kind of a lock on my right leg, from which I was unable to extricate it, and throwing me around broke it some three inches above the ankle joint.
He immediately carried me into the house, pulled off my boot, and found at once that my leg was decidedly broken; then got some splinters and bandaged it. A number of times that day he came in to see me, endeavoring to console me as much as possible.
The next day when he happened in to see me after a little conversation, I said: "Brother Joseph, when Jacob wrestled with the angel and was lamed by him, the angel blessed him. Now I think I am also entitled to a blessing."
To that he replied, "I am not the Patriarch, but my father is, and when you get up and around, I'll have him bless you".
He said no more for a minute or so. Then, looking very earnestly at me, he declared, "Brother Coray, you will soon find a companion, one that will be suited to your condition and whom you will be satisfied with. She will cling to you like the cords of death; and you will have a good many children."
--
If I esteem mankind to be in error, shall I bear them down? No. I will lift them up, and in their own way too, if I cannot persuade them my way is better; and I will not seek to compel any man to believe as I do, only by the force of reasoning, for truth will cut its own way.
I could not love thee, dear, so much,
Loved I not Honor more.
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