Alma 59

Moroni took heart from this letter. A string of victories. That was his lifeblood. It was like religion, tingly but less spiritual. He spread the news via couriers. He also sent a letter to Pahoran asking him to back up Helaman so these lands regained wouldn’t just get overwhelmed by enemy forces again.

But he was never satisfied. That was his heroic side and his anxiety-ridden side. None of that “I should be content with what the Lord has given me” stuff the old-timers preached.

He was making war plans again when he heard the Lamanites— reinforced by exiles from Manti—had attacked Nephihah. The outlook wasn’t good. This was unquenchable bloodthirst. Butchery. Those who escaped arrived at Moroni’s doorstep ready to enlist in his army.

He hadn’t seen this coming. He gave up on retaking Nephihah for the time being and sent troops to defend other vulnerable cities.

Then into his intermittent mental funk. He got gloomy but, as usual, blamed defeats on civilian misbehavior rather than military incompetence. People were sinning and that’s why he was losing. And then, another blame-shift: people were sinning because of Lamanite cultural influences. And then, re-blame-shift redux: the government wasn’t vigilant enough about freedom.

He never wondered what freedom was worth preserving that didn’t allow for misbehavior and accept the imperfection of generals, including himself.

Oh well. Hallelujah all over again.