A young husband, two years married, sits across from his wife on a Sunday afternoon and admits he can't tell anymore which of his desires are righteous and which are sin. He grew up in a culture that taught him — implicitly, never quite in those words — that wanting his wife was a thing to be a little ashamed of. Not the act inside marriage; the wanting. The fact that he thinks about her during the day. The fact that he initiates. The fact that the desire doesn't go quiet when the wedding band slides on. His wife doesn't think anything is wrong. He has been carrying a quiet contempt for himself for two years. What he was never taught is that scripture and current Church publications are united on this: the desire was given by God, blessed by God, and is good. Not coyly, not reluctantly — good. The work of mortality is not to extinguish it. The work is to learn to direct it — toward his wife, toward fidelity, toward family, toward the kind of love that produces souls and not just sensation. Soares' word for that work is temperance. Alma's word is bridle. Neither word means eliminate.