In the Saturday morning session of General Conference (4.1.20o6) President Thomas S. Monson, first counselor in the First Presidency of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints likened the temptations of mortality to makafeke (the Tongan word for octopi lure). These lures consist of medium size round stones covered in seashells. Octopi mistaking the lure for prey, seizes the makafeke in a death grip, refusing to relinquish even as the fisherman hoists it out of the ocean and into his boat.
Each of us has a makafeke, according to President Monson; a temptation we find difficult to abandon even during times of peril.
Seven years ago I entered the Missionary Training Center (MTC) in Provo, Utah in preparation for my mission on Temple Square (SLC, UT). In the MTC missionaries do not have access to caffinated beverages, i.e. Diet Coke. Before my mission, I drank at least three or four glasses of Diet Coke a day. I was an addict. Yet I did not understand until I suffered severe headaches due to caffine withdrawls. Once the headaches ceased I vowed never to become a Diet Coke addict again. For six years I did not drink coke of any kind. I was such a braggart, taunting my mother every time we went to the grocery store. "You don't need that poison water," I would tease. "You're just wasting money," I continued. She would groan in response as she loaded my empty arms with liters of the "poision."
Fast forward to my brother's college graduation (5.2005). It was a hot Atlanta day. I had gone without food or drink for many hours. Famished and with no other choice, I took a big gulp of Josh's ice cold Coca-Cola. For a moment, the world stood still. The burn my throat experienced as the brown liquid washed down my throat was intoxicating. I begged for more. One sip was not enough. With one gulp I was hooked, not on Diet Coke as before, but on Classic Coca-Cola.
It has been 11 months since that fateful day. Although I can go a day without one, the urgings usually increase until I finally give in to that ice cold refreshment.
This was the first thing that came to mind, yesterday as I listened to President Monson describe the dangers of makafeke. My makafeke is not a stone covered in shells, its not men, money or any other vice. Ok, maybe that's not true, but for now, my makafeke consists of a red, white, and black aluminum can, filled with the finest beverage a native son of Georgia ever created.
Now you know mine, tell me, what is your makafeke?