Garbage day—that became the measuring stick of our survival. We felt that we were succeeding if we could just make it to another garbage day.

The joke was not so funny, however. During those protracted periods, I would often survey my life and mourn. How much of my mortal existence had I wasted on survival? How many opportunities had passed me by because I was not in a position to embrace them? Sometimes I felt that my life had been dedicated to enduring and that I had accomplished nothing of significance.

Granted, I was wallowing in self-pity, but I wonder how many of us doubt that our lives have much substance when we, too, slip into extended periods that exhaust our strength and challenge the limits of our endurance? Is our life without purpose? Is our faith in God vain?

A Dream

Once, when I felt that I was slogging uphill in the mud, I dreamed that I was on an airplane flying at 600 miles per hour. After a while, I noticed a crippled man stand and hobble toward the front of the plane. Each difficult stride covered a mere twelve inches, and the man seemed frustrated by his slow pace. Then suddenly I was on the ground observing the same scene from a different vantage point. Now from my new position, every step that the crippled man took spanned several miles! From his point of view, he was hardly making any progress at all; but from my point of view he was covering incredible distances.

I wonder if that is how God sees us—rocketing through space toward an eternal destination?

What Profit Is It?

Speaking for God, the prophet Malachi chastised us for questioning how the Lord works with us: “Your words have been stout against me, saith the Lord.”

We are shocked by his denouncement. After all, we have been trying so hard. Incredulously, we ask, “What have we spoken against thee?”

Then the Lord answers, “Ye have said, It is vain to serve God: and what profit is it that we have kept his ordinance, and that we have walked mournfully before the Lord of hosts?” In other words, we have kept our covenants; we have prayed and fasted to the point of exhaustion; we have served diligently in our callings; we have humbled ourselves and faithfully attended the temple – and our lives never seem to improve! What profit is it?

Worse, we look around us and see people prospering who are not living the commandments. “And now we call the proud happy; yea, they that work wickedness are set up; yea, they that tempt God are even delivered” (Malachi 3:13-15).

What is going on here? Is it vain to serve God? We feel like the crippled man, who longs for a healing that eludes him. So he is forced to inch along while the proud experience happiness, the wicked prosper, and deliverance comes to those who are Godless. How can this be?

Please tell me that I am not the only one who has felt this way.

In the Shadow of God

In your scripture studies, do you know the name Bezaleel? Probably not. And yet he was one of the most important people in the Old Testament. The responsibility for building the tabernacle fell to him (Exodus 31:1-11). In Exodus, we are informed that he was a skilled artisan in all works of metal, wood, and stone. Where had he acquired these skills? In Egypt, as a slave.

Imagine the years of hopelessness, laboring day after day with no end in sight. I am certain that Bezaleel wondered about the purpose of his life. Would he ever be able to use his gift for anything more than constructing and beautifying the Pharaoh’s cities? Had God forsaken him?

Interesting, the name Bezaleel means “in the shadow or the protection of God.” God was watching out for him after all. Bezaleel was being prepared not only for deliverance but for a mighty work that he would do to bind Israel to her God. Bezaleel’s work would become the model for all subsequent Israelite temples and even has application today.

Isaiah took up the subject of our apparent captivity as the seedbed of preparation for greater things: “…hearken ye people from far; the Lord hath called me from the womb; from the bowels of my mother hath he made mention of my name.” Personalizing this scripture, we might say that the Lord has a plan for our lives that began before we were born. Isaiah called the Lord’s suppressing us for a purpose being “hid up” and “polished.”

And he hath made my mouth like a sharp sword; in the shadow of his hand hath he hid me, and made me a polished shaft; in his quiver hath he hid me.

Notice what has happened while we were being held back, unaware of what the Lord was making of us, our real potential and worth invisible to the world. This is a temporary situation. In time, the Lord will retrieve us from his sheath as a sharp sword or from his quiver as a polished shaft. Our being “hid” had purpose after all: “Thou art my servant…in whom I will be glorified.” But while we were in the “shadow of his hand,” we felt useless: “I have labored in vain, I have spent my strength for naught and in vain.” Nevertheless, the day will come when “[I will be] glorious in the eyes of the Lord, and my God shall be my strength” (1 Nephi 21:1-5). What we cannot see now has purpose; a perfect plan is being worked outside our view.

When I Make Up My Jewels

Making it to the next garbage day seems to make all the difference.

Job didn’t enjoy the process of preparation any more than we do. He also experienced reaching out to heaven and temporarily receiving silence in return: “Behold, I go forward, but he is not there; and backward, but I cannot perceive him: on the left hand, where he doth work, but I cannot behold him: he hideth himself on the right hand, that I cannot see him.”

But Job also understood that what he was going through was seasonal. The furnace associated with the baptism of fire is hot, but “when he hath tried me, I shall come forth as gold” (Job 23:8-10) – stunningly beautiful and infinitely valuable.

The Lord explains our emergence and value this way: “And they shall be mine, saith the LORD of hosts, in that day when I make up my jewels; and I will spare them, as a man spareth his own son that serveth him.” Our waiting patiently for the Lord to deliver us from the captivity of our circumstance while he sharpens and polishes us for a greater purpose serves to distinguish us between “the righteous and the wicked, between him that serveth God and him that serveth him not” (Malachi 3:17-18).

Each of us experiences times when we feel that God is distant. Regardless of our best efforts to serve him, we imagine that our prayers and righteous efforts are vain. We wake up every morning to face the same distress; we feel that our life is slipping away and that we are making no progress at all. That is from our point of view. However, if we could step outside our present circumstance and see through the eyes of God, we might observe that we are traveling at light speed, and perhaps we are being prepared to construct a temple where we can meet our God and bring in others to meet him also.

The captivity season of our life wasn’t wasted after all.

Author’s Note

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This outstanding observation was brought home to me in the 1980 Holiday Bowl where Brigham Young University was pitted against Southern Methodist University. BYU entered the game with an 11–1 record, and SMU had an 8–3 record. BYU had overwhelmed its opponent with a powerful passing game orchestrated by quarterback Jim McMahon. But SMU had an explosive running offense led by Craig James and Eric Dickerson.

With four minutes left in the game, SMU scored to take a commanding 45–25 lead over BYU, which now appeared to be headed for yet another bowl loss. They simply could not handle SMU’s offense. At this point of apparent hopelessness, my wife and I decided to spare ourselves the misery of watching BYU go down in defeat. We left our children with my mother and headed to a movie theater.

When we returned, my mother met us at the door and excitedly announced that BYU had won. They had scored three touchdowns in the last two and a half minutes of the game. Thereafter, the game was to be called the “Miracle Bowl,” and it has taken its place in history as one of the most exciting college bowl games ever played. And we had been too discouraged and impatient to see the miracle.

We were not alone. At the four-minute mark, most of the BYU fans had begun leaving the stadium when McMahon screamed that the game wasn’t over yet. Very few believed him. Nevertheless, undaunted, he promptly threw a touchdown pass. This was followed by several more smart moves that decreased the gap in scores. After throwing two incomplete passes, McMahon then launched a “Hail Mary” into the end zone as time expired. What resulted was one of the most miraculous touchdowns in college football history. Then, with the score tied, BYU’s Kurt Gunther kicked the extra point to give BYU a miraculous 46–45 victory.

In the last two minutes and thirty-three seconds of the game, BYU scored 21 points—and we had missed it!

Never Give Up

When all seems lost, we must not give up. President Benson said there is no question about the final outcome—righteousness will achieve victory.[ii] Victory is in our future, even if that victory comes at the very last second. To achieve that victory, the Lord will call upon players on both sides of the veil. Our responsibility is to persevere by keeping one eye fixed on the goal and the other on what needs to happen today. Even if a child seems to be sinning away his salvation, we must never give up hope.

Robert L. Millet wrote though “there are limits, not necessarily to God’s mercy but to the extent to which mercy can temper justice,”[iii] nevertheless, there is still hope. He said, “I have a conviction that when a person passes through the veil of death, all those impediments and challenges and crosses that were beyond his or her power to control—abuse, neglect, immoral environment, weighty traditions, etc.—will be torn away like a film. Then perhaps that person shall, as President Woodruff suggested, see and feel things he or she could not see and feel Before.”[iv]

“Linda,” a mother in Utah, wrote of clinging to hope, even up until the very last minute.

My husband and I have five children. I learned from my two oldest to never give up. Our oldest son, “Ben,” started hanging with a bad group and drifted away from the Church. At one point, he told us that the Joseph Smith story was a load of baloney. He started smoking and experimenting with drugs. He stayed away from church for several years. We fasted and prayed for him constantly; we put his name in the temple religiously, and we tried to include him in family prayers and family home evening, as much as he would allow.

Once, at a regional conference, Elder Holland spoke and gave the congregation an apostolic blessing. He promised that if we as parents were faithful in all things, we would see our wayward children return. I remember weeping as I listened to his remarks. I prayed that his promise would be fulfilled.

Then, in 1998, our youngest child accidentally drowned. Ben was devastated; we all were. A month later, Ben phoned me and asked if I was sitting down. He announced that he had decided to go on a mission. I was speechless. He said that he had become so despondent over his brother’s death that the only thing left to do was to pray. He told me that he had prayed all night and into the morning. Then he heard a voice as clear as a bell tell him to put his life in order and go on a mission. He moved home a few days later and began the repentance process to prepare to serve. At age twenty-two, he left for his field of service. Today he is married in the temple, has two beautiful children, and has graduated with a degree in business from BYU–Idaho.

Our second child, “Paul,” abandoned the Church in his junior year in high school when he started hanging around with a bad group of friends. This was uncharacteristic of Paul. He was the peacemaker in our home. He was always a sensitive and spiritual boy. Whenever my husband would give Paul a blessing, he would burst into tears. There was just something about him. But when he began to make poor choices of friends, he went from being an honor student to dropping out midway through that year.

I watched with despair as he became more and more involved with drugs. He was arrested repeatedly, and went through the juvenile system. Most of the time the punishment was light, and he always bluffed his way through the drug counseling. Within the year, he moved out of our home and we rarely heard from him. Often, we had no idea where he was.

After Paul turned 18, he continued on his downward spiral. We prayed and prayed for him, and I fasted almost every Sunday. I recalled Elder Holland’s promise, and I tried to be faithful in every way. Nevertheless, I found it hard not to question myself. I would constantly wonder what I had or had not done that had caused Paul to go down this path, but I never found any answers. Still, I beat myself up ruthlessly.

Paul finally reached a low point when he was sent to prison for an evaluation before sentencing. He spent three months in prison, twenty-three hours a day in a cell, and we could only have contact with him through letters. Over the course of those weeks, I noticed the tone of his letters change. He wrote and asked us to send him a set of scriptures. He read them from cover to cover. Soon, he was bearing his testimony in his letters. It was an amazing transformation.

But his journey wasn’t over. Next, he was sentenced to complete inpatient drug rehab, and he spent several months in the county jail waiting for a space to open up for him. While in jail, he attended the Church-sponsored meetings and he grew very close to the men and women who served there. He was finally admitted to the Salvation Army inpatient program, and he worked very hard to complete it.

When he was released, he did well for a few weeks, but then relapsed. Angry with himself for failing, he checked himself back into the program and worked even harder. He completely changed his life; he moved away from his old friends and started attending a singles’ ward. There, he met a wonderful young woman, and they were married in the temple a little over a year ago. He continues to be involved with the LDS substance abuse program, and is often a facilitator at the meetings. He works with the young men in his ward, and has one of the strongest testimonies I’ve ever heard.

As a parent, I have felt guilt, inadequacy, and failure during those days. So many times I felt that the Lord dealt me a bad hand and I wasn’t up to the task. My husband and I counseled with our bishop many times, and even today I still question my parenting skills, but I never gave up and I will never give up. I continue to fast and pray for my children, and I know that miracles happen.

When Paul was in jail he wrote a touching poem. I think his sentiments might give hope to all parents who struggle with their wayward children.

The Person I Used to Be

As I sit in this cell

And I think about God

I see it’s not really hell,

I’ve been brought back to the Rod.

So I’ll hold on tight

Because falling away

Means not doing right

Like I did in those days.

When my will was important

And I did what I did,

It was from God’s intent

For me that I hid.

But I’ve opened my eyes

Small miracles came

Now I see through the lies

And I take full blame.

Now I may have fooled others

And myself I’ve betrayed

And all that I have learned

Is that I should have stayed.

It’s Going to Be All Right

The purpose of this article could be boiled down to this one statement: It’s going to be all right. The Lord had provided a spiritual solution for waywardness. We are not impotent; we can pray for opportunities for our children to change. We have (or can develop) all the necessary tools to partner with heaven in bringing our children to a crossroads or in petitioning for a “conversion opportunity,” as did Alma the Elder. As we apply these tools and patiently work with our wayward children, we must maintain our perspective of where and when they are living.

This world is possibly the most corrupt among God’s creations, and our children are living in the most wicked phase of its existence. Agency and truth are choked by such vile conditions, and God will mercifully take this into account. President J. Reuben Clark Jr. said, “I believe that in his justice and mercy, [God] will give us the maximum reward for our acts, give us all that he can give, and in the reverse, I believe that he will impose upon us the minimum penalty which it is possible for him to impose.”[v]

We must remember that our children were among the noble and great ones whose fall rendered them exceptionally disempowered: physically, spiritually, and emotionally. They are asleep as to their true identity and to things “as they really are.”[vi] Nevertheless, in His wisdom, God foresaw these conditions, and with the redemption of all His children in mind, He created a plan to organize families into saving relationships, where strong parents nurture spiritually weak children, and strong children bless spiritually weak parents.

We parents were prepared for our mortal redemptive missions. Despite our temporary amnesia, we carry within us vital instruction and skill to become saviors on Mount Zion to our children. As we perform our missions, we will develop essential godlike characteristics that will propel us into the celestial kingdom.

Central to our being able to hone the invaluable skills of working redemption among God’s children, we will be introduced to “the heart of the gospel message,” which Jesus described in the parables of the lost sheep, the lost coin, and the prodigal son. We will observe firsthand the Savior’s ability to rescue those who have wandered, who have become lost from view, or who have rebelled and traveled to a “far country” to live like the Gentiles. We will be invited to follow His example. We will also observe the work and glory of God as He sets His hand to reclaim His wayward children. In the process we will recognize angelic ministrations as the powers of heaven are loosed to answer our prayers in behalf of our children and to assist us in our mission.

To ground us in faith and to provide us with strength to persevere when all might seem lost, we can rely on the many prophetic promises that assure us of a positive outcome. Central to these promises is our obligation to sanctify ourselves and to offer service in the temple that blessings might more easily flow from heaven.

Parents and spouses can have confidence and power to gather in the name of Jesus Christ as we call on the powers of the priesthood—the powers to bind our children to us, to turn their hearts to us, and to claim them forever through the eternal weld that is represented by our sealing.

In the end, we know that the worth of our child’s soul is great in the sight of God. Our Heavenly Father anticipated and prepared for the difficult situation that we are now facing. He sent his Son, Jesus Christ, to rescue the child through the power of the infinite and eternal Atonement. The work of the Father and the Son is fully adequate to snatch our children from the deepest abyss, break down every obstacle, and place them on a throne.

Let us, therefore, ascribe to our Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ the perfections of character They are due: mercy, love, power, knowledge, compassion, grace, truth, and so forth. When we attempt to impose upon Them constraints of time or imagine that a difficulty is beyond Their reach, we discount the testimony of prophets, who have said nothing is too hard for the Lord.[vii] Therefore, we should be careful when we pass immutable judgments on wayward souls, even when they sin grossly or remain unrepentant even until death. A veritable tome of evidence testifies that, with the help of the Lord, parents can be equipped with immeasurable ability and resources to rescue their wayward children from any location, time, or situation. Clearly, our covenants take on an added dimension when viewed in this light, for great power is given to those of us who sincerely make and keep covenants.

As we sanctify ourselves in the covenant, we reach out to Jesus, who extends “the arm of mercy towards them that put their trust in him.”[viii] We become one with Him in every way and thus have access to His saving power. No statement of understanding could be more comforting as we persist in the work of redemption.

You Are Not Alone

We end with President Monson’s counsel on gaining peace over the care of our families. He shared these sentiments with faithful members in leadership positions, but considering the broader context of the prophets’ promises regarding all worthy parents who are sanctifying themselves and serving the Lord, these words clearly apply to all of us:

“You are not alone,” President Monson promised. “We pray for you.” He goes on to remind us of a scripture from the Doctrine and Covenants: ‘Verily, thus saith the Lord unto you . . . your families are well; they are in mine hands, and I will do with them as seemeth me good; for in me there is all power.’”[ix]

May we always have faith in the Lord’s power to work in and through us. May we always remember the love He has for each of us. And may we never forget that with God all things are possible.

Author’s Note:

Note: This article is adapted from Rescuing Wayward Children. Follow this link to learn more.

Also, to receive a sample of my new 5-book series, The Three Pillars of Zion, Click here.

[ii] See Ezra Taft Benson, “In His Steps,” Ensign, September 1988.

[iii] Robert L. Millet, When a Child Wanders, 120–122.

[iv] Robert L. Millet, When a Child Wanders, 126–127.

[v] J. Reuben Clark, Jr., Conference Report, October 1953, 84.

[vi] Jacob 4:13.

[vii] See Genesis 18:14.

[viii] Mosiah 29:20.

[ix] Thomas S. Monson, “News of the Church” Ensign, September 1994, 76.

My article today is not long or profound; it is simply one of gratitude. A few weeks ago, I wrote about the example of my son, Matthew, who had suffered over the last three years from the effects of kidney failure, hemophilia, hepatitis, West Nile Virus, cancer, respiratory failure and grand mal seizures. After he had survived all of these maladies, and when, after multiple attempts and failures to find a matching donor, he finally was scheduled for a kidney transplant only to lose the opportunity hours before surgery because of a rare blood chemistry shift. Amazingly, the response of Matt and Kristin, his wife, was to regroup around their faith, declare their allegiance to God, and move forward toward the promised miracle.

But nevertheless, we were faced with a dilemma. The possibility of a matching kidney now seemed more remote than ever. Over the last year, we had tried almost every family member and come up short. On top of everything else, Matt had developed antibodies to eleven common antigens. Essentially, he is allergic to most kidneys. Remarkably, his sister, Katie, emerged as a perfect match, like an identical twin, but she was rejected twice because the anatomy of her kidneys made harvesting one of them risky. But she was not to be denied. After Matt’s latest disappointment on March 5th, she tried again. The family had prayed and fasted one more time, asking for a miracle. Several days later, the surgeons huddled and determined that the head surgeon could, indeed, perform the surgery on Katie, and she was offered the position.

And just like that, we had a donor!

The day after Matt’s latest disappointment, I observed Matt and Kristin’s response and wrote an article for Meridian called, “Why I Believe in God.” The article referenced the title of Matt’s journal and Kristin’s and his declaration of faith. In response to the article, our family was suddenly overwhelmed with love from well-wishers all over the world. Offers to help poured in. Some readers shared their stories or found strength in Matt and Kristin’s story. Others placed his name on temple rolls, prayed, and entered into fasts. We felt your strength. We were exhausted, and you buoyed us up. I am convinced that this is the condition of Zion-a situation of love and the absence of lack. Having written about this subject for years, I came away from this experience believing that there are many saints who could easily segue into the priesthood society of Zion at a moment’s notice, because they are already Zion people.

I am sitting here in the surgical waiting room with Buffie, my wife, Kristin, Matt’s wife, and Jason Purdie, Katie’s husband. Kristin just took a call. The surgeons have just removed Katie’s kidney successfully, and they are preparing it to transplant into Matt. So far, so good. We are tired. We took a survey, and the most sleep any of us received last night was two hours. We started at 4:30 a.m, and now we have settled in for a five-hour wait. Jason and I gave blessings to both Katie and Matt. The image of the Israelites’ day of deliverance came to mind. I tried to imagine what it must have been like to one day be a slave and the next day become a free man, walking away forever from bondage. How many prayers and tears preceded that day of days? I suppose that many people lost faith that life could ever be different. Perhaps some people stopped praying all together, imaging that their prayers were vain. I am reminded of verses in Malachi 3.

Ye have said, It is vain to serve God: and what profit is it that we have kept his ordinance, and that we have walked mournfully before the Lord of hosts? And now we call the proud happy; yea, they that work wickedness are set up; yea, they that tempt God are even delivered.

That is to say, what good has it done us to serve God and keep the commandments? We look around us and see wicked people apparently happy and prospering, and yet we, who have tried to be obedient, suffer in the bondage of our circumstances, and see no relief in sight. Why are wicked delivered and we continue to languish in captivity? Where is our deliverance? Has God forgotten us?

Then, the Lord’s answer:

Then they that feared the Lord spake often one to another: and the Lord hearkened, and heard it, and a book of remembrance was written before him for them that feared the Lord, and that thought upon his name. And they shall be mine, saith the Lord of hosts, in that day when I make up my jewels; and I will spare them, as a man spareth his own son that serveth him.

That is to say, the Lord absolutely remembers us. In fact, a book of remembrance is kept in heaven. This book records the sufferings, declarations of faith, acts of patience, and the manifestations of devotion to God. The Lord hearkens to such people. He knows and loves those who take upon themselves and remember his name despite all odds. God claims such people as his own; they are his jewels, his most prized possessions. He promises to spare them and care for them as would a father, who cares for his devoted son.

We are not forgotten after all. We are being “written up” and polished. When our story is completed and when our shine is the brightest, the Lord will declare, “It is enough; it is finished.” Then with a strong hand, he will deliver us. He is called the Deliverer for good reason. We can count on his fulfilling that title.

We have been in the surgical waiting room a long time now. Recently, Katie’s surgeon told us that her surgery went perfectly and she is in recovery. Matt’s surgery was going equally well, and he said he had “a good feeling.” Over the past roller-coaster year, after the eight tries and seven disappointments, I have wondered why. Why do Matt and Kristin have to continue going through this agony? Why so hard? Why the delay? Then the Spirit whispered, “This has more to do with your family’s education than for Matt and Kristin’s education.” Then I remembered that every eligible person has stepped forward and invested in the outcome. This is no small decision. Considering the donation of an organ is a sanctifying event that teaches you something about the Atonement that is very personal. You can never again look at people the same way. If giving my family an experience with the Atonement was the Lord’s goal, he certainly succeeded. We will never forget this event; we all took ownership.

Matt’s surgeon just met with Kristin and informed her that Katie’s kidney that had been placed in Matt is functioning perfectly, as if it was his own. What a miracle we have experienced! Only a few weeks ago, we felt as though we were doomed to the darkness of midnight, but now we see the sun breaking on the horizon.

As we gather up our things and wait for the call giving us permission to visit Katie and Matt, I am reminded of an incident when the apostles were attempting a sea crossing by night.

     And when even was come, the ship was in the midst of the sea, and he alone on the land.
     And he saw them toiling in rowing; for the wind was contrary unto them: and about the fourth watch of the night he cometh unto them, walking upon the sea, and would have passed by them.
     But when they saw him walking upon the sea, they supposed it had been a spirit, and cried out:
     For they all saw him, and were troubled. And immediately he talked with them, and saith unto them, Be of good cheer: it is I; be not afraid. And he went up unto them into the ship; and the wind ceased: and they were sore amazed in themselves beyond measure, and wondered.

When we find ourselves toiling in the midst of the sea, the wind contrary to us-when we are afraid and troubled, encompassed by the blackness of the “fourth watch,” the darkest time of night, when we cry out, he will speak to us “immediately,” saying, “Be of good cheer. It is I; be not afraid.” Then he will board our fragile vessel, take a seat beside us, calm the wind and storm, and navigate us safely to shore.

It is a truth. I have witnessed it time and again. And I have witnessed it once more today. Thank you for your prayers and support.

When I think back over the last three years, I wonder how anyone could have survived such an ordeal. In July 2006, Matt’s kidney failed. He only had one-mine. I had donated it to him in 1990 when both of his kidneys abruptly failed. He was only fifteen. Now he had carried around my kidney for 16 years, and it was getting old and sick. Matt had been nursing it along for the last year. The doctors had ordered several ultrasounds, and each time they had seen a couple of troubling spots, but the biopsies had come back negative. No cancer…or so we supposed.

To complicate things, Matt was born with severe hemophilia, a bleeding disorder that prevents his blood from coagulating. Because hemophiliacs hemorrhage into joints, and because blood acts like an acid on joints, causing arthritis, both of Matt’s ankles have been fused. Perhaps worse, over the years that he had received blood products to coagulate his blood, he had become infected with hepatitis C. When the doctors prescribed Interferon to clear the disease from his liver, they informed him that the Interferon could kill his kidney. Even then, they only gave him a 20 percent chance that the treatment would arrest the hepatitis.

Faced with two impossible choices, Matt chose a third alternative: Turn it over to God. That is the way he has always handled things. His faith would sustain him, but little did we know that he was about to enter the worst set of trials of his life. Matt calls it his crucible.

Remembering the First Kidney Transplant

Today is March 5, 2009. Tomorrow morning, my wife, Buffie, and I had planned to arise at 4:30 so that we could be at University Hospital in Salt Lake City for Matt’s kidney transplant. Our son-in-law, Ryan, was scheduled to be the donor. Ryan was the last of a long list of potential donors, who, over the past ten months, were cancelled out for one reason or another. Buffie and I would have been accompanied at the hospital by our daughter, Lindsay, who is Ryan’s wife, Kristin, who is Matt’s wife, and Ryan’s parents, Lee and Tani.

The last few days have filled me with emotional memories. When I donated a kidney to Matt in 1990, I thought I was pretty tough. Then when the day came to check into the hospital, I fell apart. I was scared. Tears came easily, and I was embarrassed. A few days ago, Ryan asked me some questions about the upcoming operation, and soon he had to stand up and leave the room. Lindsay asked me to stop explaining.

My donating a kidney totally changed my life. On one occasion I told Ryan that being a donor is an experience that I would not deny anyone, especially a man. Whereas a woman can give birth, the experience of giving life escapes a man. When his wife is giving birth, he might appreciate what is happening, but he cannot quite understand the miracle that his wife is experiencing.

To give of your body so that someone might live approximates the Atonement. Donating a body part is as though the testimony of the Atonement is being carved into your being. Suddenly, the Atonement is no longer theoretical. In a very real way, the Atonement is part of you. You gain an in-depth appreciation of the Savior that you might not achieve otherwise, not even through temple proxy work. You can never look at people the same way. The entire focus of your life changes. Being a donor defines your life. It is never forgotten by the family. It becomes part of the family’s heritage. The blessings seem to redound to other family members and everyone who is touched by the event.

Ryan is our latest hero. Our other children who also tried to be donors are heroes: Gavon, Rebecca, Katie and Justin. The friends who stepped forward are heroes, too. It is no more possible to express our gratitude to them for trying to save our son’s life than to express gratitude to the Savior for saving our eternal lives. All of them understand something about the Savior that they never knew before, and they are forever changed.

The Crucible

In the summer of 2006, Matt was in and out of the hospital repeatedly. He was experiencing kidney failure, but some of his symptoms were atypical. But because he was growing worse, the doctors determined to remove the failing kidney, which they usually don’t do. Perhaps the Interferon to clear the hepatitis from the liver was the culprit. Even after the kidney was removed, Matt’s symptoms persisted which was a mystery to the doctors.
Matt began dialysis. We hoped it would be a temporary fix until he could receive a transplant in a couple of months. Little did we know that he would spend the next 2 ½ years confined to a dialysis chair–four hours a day, three times a week. During those years he would forget what it felt like to feel well. Whereas a kidney will completely clean the entire blood supply every 1-2 minutes, dialysis cleans the blood supply with 30% efficiency every two days. The buildup of toxins leaves a dialysis patient constantly exhausted and often feeling sick.

If hepatitis, kidney failure and dialysis weren’t big enough bombshells, the next piece of news was. When the doctors removed the kidney from Matt’s body, they discovered that it was cancerous after all-renal cell carcinoma, a very deadly cancer. More tests would be required to see if the cancer had spread. If it had, it would most certainly kill him. The initial results were promising, but to make sure, Matt would have to remain on dialysis for at least two years, long enough to rule out any possibility that the cancer would return. If the doctors decided to immediately give Matt another kidney, his immune system would have to be suppressed so that he would not reject the kidney. If there was even a trace of cancer in his system, his suppressed immune system would not be able to fight back, and the cancer would quickly overwhelm him.

But there was more bad news to come. Matt’s health continued to spiral downward, and trips to the emergency room became a normal occurrence. Buffie and I shuddered every time the phone rang in the middle of the night. To allow Kristin to stay at home with their three little girls, I became the driver. Typically, we would end up at University Hospital, some 40 miles north of us, where Matt’s specialists were located.

By August, we were becoming more and more concerned for Matt’s life. Due to respiratory failure, which he would experience again, he was in Intensive Care on a ventilator in an induced coma. One day, after prayer and contemplation, Buffie came to me and said, “I think Matt has West Nile Virus.” She was so certain that she insisted that he press the doctors to begin testing. The doctors reacted with skepticism, but agreed to test. What could it hurt to check it out? They learned a lesson that I learned early in my marriage-Believe a mother’s feelings. Sure enough, Buffie had been right; the tests came back positive. The doctors discovered that Matt had been suffering with West Nile Virus for at least three months. That had been the cause of his illness, not kidney failure.

Suddenly, we realized that a strange miracle had occurred. If Matt hadn’t contracted West Nile Virus, which had caused the symptoms that prompted the doctors to remove Matt’s kidney in the first place, the cancerous kidney would still be in him. It is rare for doctors to remove a failing kidney. They would rather keep it in and avoid another surgery, especially in a hemophilia patient. If the kidney had remained, the cancer would have spread, hastened by the transplant, and before anyone could have diagnosed the cancer it would have been too late. Therefore, in a remarkable set of circumstances, God had preserved Matt’s life with the West Nile Virus!

I would like to report that Matt and Kristin sailed through these adversities without a hiccup in their faith. But that would not be true. Even Job and Joseph Smith suffered lapses when the crush of adversity became overwhelming. Matt reminds me that most of the book on 1 Nephi is about the journey and not about arriving. But each time they have been beaten down, they have somehow found a way to get back up, find their way back to God and try again. Despite what they are feeling inside, they exhibit faith in public, and that is why they continue to inspire people who are also carrying tremendous loads. It is okay to hurt; it is okay to lapse; it is just not okay to abandon God or accuse him.

Other Miracles

Matt is no stranger to miracles. When he was twelve, I was impressed that he needed a special priesthood blessing. We had been hearing about a strange new virus called HIV that might be infecting the blood pool from which the clotting factor for hemophiliacs was manufactured. In Matt’s blessing, he was promised protection and a long life. He needed that protection. Late one night, Buffie and I received an urgent call from the pharmaceutical company that the batch of medicine we had on hand was contaminated with HIV. We had given Matt an infusion from that batch only hours earlier.

A few years later, we came to more fully appreciate the power of that priesthood blessing. During the 1980s, some 95% of hemophiliac boys were infected with HIV and many died of AIDS. Buffie’s cousin was one of the casualties. Almost an entire generation of hemophiliac males was wiped out within a matter of years by their simply taking medicine. But Matt was spared. His case was so remarkable that the doctors asked for a blood sample for research. There was no question that Matt had been exposed to HIV multiple times, but he never tested positive for the antibody. The doctors couldn’t figure out why, but we knew. You can’t see a priesthood blessing under a microscope.

Matt was the recipient of another set of miracles in 1990, when he needed his first kidney transplant. During that time, Buffie and I were testing to see who could donate, when I was abruptly cancelled out. This troubled me because six months before Matt’s kidneys failed I had received a strange impression that I would someday donate a kidney. The reason for my being canceled out was because I had nearly died of nephritis when I was eleven. Nephritis is a complication of strep throat that attacks kidneys. The doctors told me that my kidneys were likely damaged and I couldn’t donate. I took my concern to the Lord, and felt an impression to go to my bishop, ask for a blessing, and my kidneys would be fine.

After the blessing, I begged the doctors to reconsider. When they finally consented, they discovered that my kidneys were perfect. I became the first nephritis patient to ever donate a kidney, and Matt was only the second hemophiliac to receive a kidney transplant. We were so rare that our case was written up in a medical journal.

Matt’s miracles would continue. Early in their marriage, Matt and Kristin discovered that they could not conceive children. On the fertility scale, Matt was almost non-existent. To complicate things, Kristin was suffering with endometriosis that eventually cost her one ovary and almost the second. To save the remaining damaged ovary, the surgeon scraped and wrapped it in gauze and hoped for the best. After the surgery, Kristin was given Lupron, a drug to arrest the endometriosis by sending her into temporary menopause.
The combination of the operation and the sudden cessation of hormones caused her to become sick and put on weight, cruelly mimicking pregnancy. Worse, she developed a large stomach obtrusion that the doctors feared was a tumor. Almost seven months into the treatment, the doctors ordered an ultrasound that the lump was not a tumor, but a baby! A previous priesthood blessing had guaranteed Matt and Kristin would have children. Once again, we experienced the unequalled power of the priesthood. But the miracles didn’t stop there. Now they have one adopted daughter and two natural daughters-from parents who were physically incapable of having children.

The Price of Blessings

Of course, all blessings come with a price. Matt was now dealing with hepatitis C, renal cell carcinoma, dialysis, and West Nile Virus, and of course his ongoing hemophilia. I remember the words of an early priesthood blessing, one of many that would follow. The language compared Matt’s ordeal to stepping into a fiery furnace, as did the three Hebrew youths. He was promised, as were they, that one day he would emerge from the furnace without even the smell of smoke on his clothes. Until then, the Lord would stand with him in the furnace and protect him. From that point forward, he has lived from prayer to prayer, fast to fast, and blessing to blessing. Nothing except the intervention of God could have seen him through.

Now the fun began. The West Nile Virus sapped Matt’s energy. He began to go downhill fast. During those months, he hadn’t the strength to climb a set of stairs to his bedroom. He would spend hours, sitting in his front room, staring out the window at people living their lives normally, and wondering what it would feel like to walk to the mailbox and retrieve the mail. Twice, Matt became so weak that he felt his spirit try to separate from his body. He would struggle to hang on, knowing that if he relaxed he would be gone. He experienced fainting spells. He labored to get enough oxygen in his lungs. Twice, he went into respiratory failure, and he was placed on a ventilator in an induced coma.

I lost count of how many times I rushed him to the emergency room. Once, I rushed to his home, only to find him losing consciousness. He looked at me hopelessly, and said, “I can’t hold on anymore.” We called the paramedics, who transported him to the hospital. On another occasion, he experienced several grand mal seizures and was spitting up blood. We called the paramedics again. My older son, Gavon, and I arrived at the hospital moments later only to see Matt thrashing about with another seizure. The seizures had been caused by West Nile Virus and out-of-control blood pressure that skyrocketed to stroke levels then plummeted to the point that he would lose consciousness. The doctors feared that his heart had been damaged by the onslaught.

One morning, after he had been released from the hospital, Buffie and I drove to Matt and Kristin’s house to watch the children while Kristin took Matt to the doctors in Salt Lake. When he opened the door, nothing could have prepared us for the shock of seeing him. Overnight, his hair had turned silvery gray and his skin had turned a dark bronze. He ended up being admitted. The doctors couldn’t explain by his hair had suddenly turned gray, but they guessed that it might have happened because of the intense trauma brought on by the seizures. The jaundiced skin was another guess-maybe the hepatitis in his liver or perhaps a temporarily blocked gall bladder or liver duct.

Finding a Donor

Over time, many of the severe symptoms of his conditions declined, and life settled into a routine. Dialysis on Monday, Wednesday and Friday; part-time work at LDS Family Services on Tuesday and Thursday. (Matt is a therapist there.) The weekends were reserved for Kristin and the girls. The fact that we had come this far was truly a miracle. The priesthood blessings were being fulfilled. The cancer had not spread and the hepatitis was gone. The West Nile Virus had become less troublesome. He was experiencing bouts of paralysis because his dialysis catheter was failing, causing his Ph and electrolyte levels to rollercoaster. But another surgery to replace the catheter resolved that problem. Overall, Matt was recovering-enough so, that the doctors cleared him to receive a transplant. He had remained cancer-free for two years, and that was the echelon to proceed with the transplant.

Why we thought finding a matching kidney would be a slam-dunk, I do not know. Nothing had ever come easily for Matt and Kristin. Divine intervention had always been required. Finding a kidney donor would be no different.

In the summer of 2008, we started with Gavon, our oldest. He was cancelled out abruptly by a condition that we never had supposed. That was when we first heard that Matt had antibodies to many common antigens in the blood. Basically, he was allergic to the makeup of most kidneys. Over the months, seven people tried and failed to become a donor. No matter what, we could not find a match.

Our son, Gavon, tried three separate times, and failed. Our daughter, Rebecca, tried and failed. Our son-in-law, Justin, tried and failed. Several friends, tried and failed. Then our daughter, Katie wanted to try, but she had just had a baby. The doctors insisted that she wait for three months. When she finally began to test, she emerged as a perfect match-like an identical twin. We were elated! Finally, we had a solution.

Katie sailed through the tests, and the doctors were ready to set a transplant date. By October, she only had one more test to go, and that was supposed to be a cinch. This test was just to help the doctors plan the surgery. Early that morning of the test, Matt was awakened by the transplant office and offered another kidney. A 15-year-old girl had passed away and her kidney was a good match. Matt thought about it for a few minutes then turned it down. After all, his sister was a perfect match, and she was taking the last test that morning. Buffie and I had gone to the temple that day. When we returned, we received a call from our sobbing daughter. She had failed the last test because the arteries emerging from both of her kidneys were only half an inch long–not nearly long enough to splice into Matt.

So just like that, Matt lost two kidneys in one day.

Why I Believe in God

That was a bad day. We were out of options. Matt responded with typical faith. He didn’t want just any kidney, he would say, he wanted the kidney. God had promised, and he would deliver. Matt saw his responsibility as enduring cheerfully in faith. We knew that he and Kristin were hurting. We saw the tears; we heard the anger. But we also watched them regroup and return to God, who had always sustained them. Both the intensity of their trials and their ultimate response to them left us shaking our heads.

After that, Matt began to write down his experiences in a journal with the hope of helping other people. For several months, while he sat in a dialysis chair, he would remember his trials and the Lord’s mercies. Then on Christmas day, he presented the journal to us. He called it “Why I Believe in God.”

I wonder if I would have that level of courage? I wonder if I could cry my allegiance to God over and over despite the setbacks and the disappointments?
Today, the transplant was canceled just hours before the surgery, and Matt and Kristin are being tried again. Today marks the third time they had come within an inch of liberty only to be thrust back into captivity. In a bizarre twist of fate, Matt’s chemistries changed within the last few weeks, leaving him incompatible with Ryan. No one knows why. It just happened. Maybe because the doctors gave him an immunization shot a month ago. Ryan and Lindsay can’t stop crying; neither can Kristin, Buffie and the rest of the family. Matt is too numb to cry. He just stands in his living room and stares at all the gifts from congratulating friends. Literally hundreds of people are invested in the outcome. We’ve spent hours calling people to undo the preparations: Relief Society dinners, babysitting schedules, transportation. It feels like waiting nine months for a baby, then coming home empty-handed because the child was stillborn. Now, with all hope dashed, Matt and Kristin have to find a way once again to dig down deep into that place of crucible where prophets were purified and polished and emerged as gold. And remarkably they did.
No Risk in Trusting God

Without hesitation, they still can bear testimony that there is no risk in trusting God. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is more than a culture to them. It is power that they have drawn upon repeatedly for every eventuality in their lives. It binds together their marriage and their family with a seal that cannot be broken. It has healed and upheld them. It has drawn down heaven to earth and saved them. I have heard Matt bear his testimony in the words of Alma: “I have been supported under trials and troubles of every kind, yea, and in all manner of afflictions; yea, God has delivered me from prison, and from bonds, and from death; yea, and I do put my trust in him, and he will still deliver me” (Alma 36:27).

Today, we hurt. We are disappointed and exhausted. We do not understand how we can continually come within a breath of relief only to have it snatched from our hands. We cannot see a solution. And yet there is hope; there is always hope. If there is a God, there is hope. We recognize that our circumstance is the perfect formula for a miracle. Therefore, we will regroup around our faith as we always have, and return to the Source from which our blessings have always come. Despite the present difficulty, we are determined to stand firm in our faith and, like Matt and Kristin, cry out our allegiance to God, who has always saved us. We fully expect that there is a glorious ending to Matt’s journal, and it will sum up perfectly his thesis, “Why I Believe in God.”

A friend recounted an experience in which he was buffeted by an evil influence for nearly a year. Despite numerous prayers, frequent fasts and priesthood blessings, he could not shake the relentless and violent onslaught. One morning, having been driven to his knees with the feeling of hopelessness, he pled for help, and this time a name entered his mind. Immediately, he arose and made a phone call to a man whom he knew to be a worthy priesthood bearer. He explained the war he had waged for the last twelve months and asked his friend for a blessing.

Suddenly, the evil influence departed. The powerful blessing had provided my friend the long-sought-after relief that he had desired. By the power of the priesthood, the evil influence had been cast away and my friend has not been vexed by that evil influence since.

But the cause of his affliction startled him. During the blessing, the priesthood holder revealed that some 35 years earlier my friend had inadvertently opened a door for Satan to get a foothold, establish a residence, and eventually buffet him mercilessly. Now, over three decades later, he was suffering the effects. What had happened? My friend knew immediately. On a youthful lark, he had once allowed a palm reader to foretell his future. As fate would have it, she had made a remarkably accurate prediction. That single innocent flirtation with evil had created a small breach in my friend’s soul, which breach had allowed Satan an opportunity to plant a seed that would grow until it became incredibly destructive. Now only divine power could excise the infection.

When Questions Become Doubts

Satan utilizes disobedience and false teachings or ideas to cause a breach in our souls through which light hemorrhages. Then he enters through the gash and drains us of truth: “And that wicked one cometh and taketh away light and truth, through disobedience, from the children of men, and because of the tradition of their fathers.” One of Satan’s tricks is to transform our questions into doubts. Whereas questions are healthy and the vehicle by which we progress, doubts retard progress and bring us to a standstill-even to regression. If we are not careful, Satan will turn our questions into doubts; then our testimony begins to topple.

How does he manage this slight-of-hand? One strategy is to convince us to zero in on a single issue and give it increasing weight. Because the human mind can only think one thought at a time, he convinces us that a certain issue is the one that should occupy our attention. If we buy into his temptation, that issue will eventually cause us to discount everything else. We will begin to view that issue as though we were looking through a magnifying glass. Over time, it will appear larger and larger, and soon it will overshadow all else that we once believed to be true. At such times, we must regroup and remember what we know to be true and to review what evidence we have. Then things will come back into perspective, and we can give proper weight to the troubling issue. With persistence, the issue will return to what it should be–a question rather than a doubt.

Seeing Only Red

Satan will use a troubling issue as a trigger, and every time we bump up against it, he will shout in our ears falsehoods and lies. We can expect this to be automatic.

Another Satanic strategy is to get us to see everything through a filter. For example, if we have a problem with the color red, we tend to pick out every red thing in our environment to the exclusion of all other colors. Never mind that trees have lovely green leaves, blue birds wing above us and white-capped mountains glisten with crystalline snow–red is all that we see. Are we not amazed that within a couple of years, Satan talked the majority of the Nephites out of having experienced the night that appeared as day when the Savior was born? The event that had once caused them to collapse to the ground in astonishment was now dismissed as a phenomenon of nature:

“And it came to pass that from this time forth there began to be lyings sent forth among the people, by Satan, to harden their hearts, to the intent that they might not believe in those signs and wonders which they had seen….and the people began to forget those signs and wonders which they had heard, and began to be less and less astonished at a sign or a wonder from heaven, insomuch that they began to be hard in their hearts, and blind in their minds, and began to disbelieve all which they had heard and seen–Imagining up some vain thing in their hearts, that it was wrought by men and by the power of the devil, to lead away and deceive the hearts of the people; and thus did Satan get possession of the hearts of the people again, insomuch that he did blind their eyes and lead them away to believe that the doctrine of Christ was a foolish and a vain thing.” 

As disconcerting as some issues may seem, they are really not as large as Satan would portray them to be. Nevertheless, we often allow these issues to carry much more weight than they deserve. Beyond all other considerations, we must never discount our testimonies and the evidence we have of God’s miracles in our lives. We must never allow our questions to set at risk what we value most: our eternal relationships and the promises of salvation and exaltation that gospel covenants provide.

The Leaven of Satan

We recall that Jesus cautioned his apostles to beware of the leaven of the Pharisees and of Herod (Mark 8:10-21). Leaven, of course, is another word for yeast, the ingredient that makes bread rise. Jesus was cautioning his disciples against allowing the words of the Pharisees to be planted in their souls. What starts as a little thing soon expands to overwhelm its host. Such is the leaven of Satan.

How many people do we know who have bumped up against a difficult doctrine, a disturbing piece of historical data, or who have just plain been offended by a Church leader or another member then succumb to Satan’s advances and allow him to introduce his leaven? Over time, that leaven expands until questions become insurmountable doubts and offenses become felonies, and those people who are troubled by these things now interpret everything about the Church through the dark filter of Satan’s lie.

Like cancer, the leaven of Satan will take root in our souls and grow into a briary tangle that is calculated to destroy us. According to Nephi, to avoid implantation we must give no heed to any temptation, no matter how insignificant it might seem. We must neither dabble nor consider nor partake. In Nephi’s words, “we heeded them not.”  The only solution to rid Satan’s leaven from our souls is an infusion of light and truth coupled with divine intervention, typically through the priesthood. Of ourselves, we are simply not strong enough to take on the power of Satan and come off conquerors.

The Leaven of Christ

On the other hand, Alma speaks of leaven in another way. The word of God, he says, is like a seed. Like the evil leaven of the Pharisees, the good seed is also planted by an external force-the Holy Ghost. Over time, if the seed and its growing motions are not resisted or cast out by our unbelief, the seed will grow into “the tree of life…springing up unto eternal life.” If we will nourish that good seed, Alma says, it will begin to swell then sprout and eventually grow into a bearing delicious fruit.

Once the seed or leaven of Christ takes hold in the fertile ground of our receptive soul, the Father will direct the growth, oversee our education, and teach us the sublime intricacies of the gospel and its covenants. Moreover, he will give us power to abide the precepts of the gospel covenants.  Over time, the good seed will become a part of us until we are totally leavened by it. Soon, we discover that the fruit of the gospel that comes from the seed tastes delicious; it is desirable to make one happy; it is most sweet above all other fruit; it is white to exceed all whiteness; and it is the most joyous to the soul. We will have no desire to depart from it. As we become Zionlike by the leavening power of the word of God, we will feel no urge to be drawn back to the great and spacious building-Babylon. The word simply tastes better, looks better and feels better than anything Babylon has to offer.

Questions vs. Doubts

Speaking of questions vs. doubts, Isaiah asked the “question of questions,” which each of us must answer or ever remain vulnerable to Satan’s leaven. Prophesying of the Savior and his mission, Isaiah suddenly launched the question: “Who shall declare his generation?” That is to say, who is capable of discovering the origin of Jesus? Is He really the Son of God, generated by the Father, Himself, or is He just a great teacher and religious leader? The answer to this question gives us the key to answer every gospel question and reveal the truth of all things. Elder Bruce R. McConkie wrote:

It is a true principle that “no man can say [or, rather, know] that Jesus is the Lord, but by the Holy Ghost.” (1 Cor. 12:3.) The testimony of Jesus, which is also the spirit of prophecy, is to know by personal revelation that Jesus Christ is the Son of the living God. In the full and complete sense of the word no one ever knows that Jesus is Lord of all except by personal revelation; and all persons to whom that testimony or revelation comes are then able to declare His generation, to assert from a standpoint of personal knowledge that they know that Mary is his mother and God is his Father. And so, in the final analysis it is the faithful saints, those who have testimonies of the truth and divinity of this great latter-day work, who declare our Lord’s generation to the world. Their testimony is that Mary’s son is God’s Son; that he was conceived and begotten in the normal way; that he took upon himself mortality by the natural birth processes; that he inherited the power of mortality from his mother and the power of immortality from his Father-in consequence of all of which he was able to work out the infinite and eternal atonement. This is their testimony as to his generation and mission.  

Our questions concerning the reality of Christ and His generation, the mission of the Prophet Joseph Smith, the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon, the actuality of the restoration of the true Church of Jesus Christ or any other essential doctrine can only be known by the revelation from the Holy Ghost-his planting true leaven-the good seed, the word of God-in our souls and our allowing that leaven to expand within us.

Our Choice

In one way or another, the leaven of Satan or God will be implanted within us. Try as we might, it is unavoidable. So we have a choice to make: Which leaven will we allow to be placed in our souls? Both leavens have the power to expand and fill us. Both have the capacity to transform us into their likeness. If we entertain the dangerous leaven, it will soon swell and appear logical and essential; we will most certainly dismiss the truth as a myth. But if we will allow the leaven of God to swell within us, it will grow into the image of the Bread of Life.

3 Nephi 1:17, 22; 2:1-2

1 Nephi 8:33

Alma 32:40-41

See Alma 32:28-41

See D&C 84:48

See 1 Nephi 8:10-12, 30

Isaiah 53:8

See Moroni 10:4-5

Bruce R. McConkie, The Promised Messiah: The First Coming of Christ, p.472

Do we allow unanswered questions fell our tree of testimony or grow it? Just how much are we willing to risk or obsess on a question when weighty matters are at stake? Deciding what matters is one of the first steps to leaving Babylon and becoming a Zion person.

About twenty years ago, I had a gospel question that vexed me. Despite my best efforts, I could not make sense of it. After pondering, praying and fasting, I still suffered with the question. The experience taught me that in the delay there are blessings, if we will allow them. The first blessing that I experienced was the question’s forcing me to a point where I had to decide once and for all if the question really mattered. Was the root system of my testimony so flimsy that this issue could topple my tree of belief? After a little deliberation, I decided that my roots of testimony ran deeper than that, and I concluded that I would not let the issue matter. It could wait. What I didn’t understand at the time was that by setting aside my demand for an answer I opened the door for the answer to come.

The purpose of delay

The Lord never asks us to travel a road without some prior preparation. Faith builds upon faith as the Holy Ghosts spoon-feeds us one precept at a time. Questions are often planted by the Spirit as invitations to learn the next concept. A quick survey of the scriptures reveals the Lord’s use of questions to prod righteous people to stretch and to learn. But we can stop the process and fell our tree of testimony by becoming frustrated with the process or getting stuck on a challenging question. When the answer is not immediately forthcoming that does not mean that a satisfactory answer does not exist. Perhaps the Lord’s delay serves as a test of faith or a motivator to search the scriptures and prophets for answers to this and other questions. Often, in the process of seeking an answer we stumble upon a potpourri of truth.

The priesthood matters

Every person’s journey to answers is unique. Here are a few of the markers along the course that I traveled to gain my answer. When I was eleven, I was stricken with Nephritis, a complication of Strep Throat. My kidneys began to shut down and I was at risk of developing heart damage. A health blessing healed me. Twenty-eight years later, when my son suffered kidney failure, I was able to donate a kidney to him. It had never happened that a person who had contracted Nephritis had donated a kidney. Our situation was so rare that it was written up in medical journals. But the part the author of the article left out was the part about the priesthood blessing that I had received from my bishop so that I could donate. He promised that my kidneys would be healed from the effects of Nephritis and I could give my son a kidney. Even the doctors could not attribute the rarity of this situation to anything than that of divine intervention.

I have an abiding testimony of the restored priesthood. My wife and I have ten children-three boys have hemophilia, a severe bleeding disorder. Additionally, we have dealt with kidney failure, Crohn’s Disease, potentially paralyzing broken neck and back, Hepatitis, and West Nile Virus. We have seen several miracle babies come to our children who were clinically incapable of having children. One doctor compared the miracle to parting the Red Sea. We have seen homes and jobs appear when all seemed lost. The priesthood matters.

Years ago, one Halloween night I received a call from a friend. Our boys had been playing on his roof, and my son, Gavon, had stepped off and landed on his head. When I arrived, Gavon was unconscious and bleeding from both ears. The medics rushed him to the hospital. When I stepped into his room, I was not prepared for what I was about to see. Gavon’s face was badly swollen; blood continued to seep from his ears-a sign of concussion; his right collarbone had a large bump as though something was trying to protrude through the skin. I was told that his clavicle was broken badly. The doctors also suspected a broken neck or back.

My friend and I gave Gavon a priesthood blessing then the boy was wheeled away to Radiology. Perhaps an hour later, a doctor approached me with a handful of x-rays. His speech was very clinical. He pointed out bones, growth plates and the obvious concussion.

“Has the bleeding from the ears stopped?” I interrupted him. “Is there any brain damage?”

“The bleeding has stopped and there is no damage,” the doctor said.

“What about breaks? His back? His neck?”        

“No breaks.”

“Not even his collar bone?” I asked astonishedly.

“Nothing. He will probably have a headache for a few days.”

Gavon woke up 24 hours later with the predicted headache, not remembering anything expect standing on the edge of the dark roof. His bruising was gone within a few days and he was back playing carefully with his friends.

Over the course of nearly 37 years of marriage, our family has existed from one priesthood blessing to the next. The priesthood matters.

Redemption matters

I doubt that there was ever a more unprepared missionary than I. Having come from a family that was disintegrating, I found myself confused about the Church, especially its doctrines concerning priesthood and eternal marriage. Somewhere in my adolescence I decided that a mission was not for me. I wasn’t trying to be rebellious; I had actually convinced myself that the Lord didn’t want me to go. We can convince ourselves of almost anything of we try hard enough. We can even convince ourselves that important things don’t matter.

Nevertheless, as my 19^th birthday approached, the idea of a mission seemed to press relentlessly upon my mind. Finally, I decided to pray and get Heavenly Father’s word once and for all that He didn’t me to serve a mission. As ridiculous as it sounds now, I was actually asking to be officially excused. So I prayed. When the answer didn’t come I prayed some more. And this went on for a month.

One day when I was walking around campus, minding my own business, a sudden flood of light entered my body. I was so astonished that I looked down at my feet, which seemed to be standing above the ground. I felt within me an actual call from God to serve a mission. What was even more remarkable was all the confusion, doubt and fear left me in an instant, and they were replaced by excitement and enthusiasm. Now I wanted to go! I met with the bishop that weekend, and within four weeks I received a call to Argentina. I have always been amazed that the Lord rescued and redeemed such a confused young man as was I and set me on a course that has blessed my life ever since. Redemption matters.

The Book of Mormon Matters

Having officially been called on a mission, I now felt the weight of unpreparedness settled upon me. I had infrequently attended seminary, and I had never read the Book of Mormon. I was horrified that I knew nothing, and within weeks I was supposed to be teaching the Argentine people the gospel of Jesus Christ. Motivated by panic, I began to read the Book of Mormon.

Having always been fascinated by writing, I read the Book of Mormon with a continuous string of questions flowing through my mind. For example, I asked myself if anyone, even the greatest literary genius of all time, could have written such a book-within 60 days! One would have to have had a fabulous knowledge of the Jews and the Law of Moses. One would have to have an encyclopedic knowledge of the Bible in order to mesh its teachings with this new volume. One would have to have the skill of assuming the voices and styles of multiple people, and one would have to accurately explain three separate civilizations that existed from the Tower of Babel to 400 A.D. One would have to forward geographic locations and archaeological data that would only be proven correct a hundred or more years later. Then the book would have to hold up to criticism at every level for nearly two hundred years. Finally, the book would be bold enough to carry a one-of-a-kind guarantee that the truth of it could be known by honest seekers by a direct answer from God…and millions would then attest that the guarantee was valid. Who would dare says such things? Who but a prophet could write it? People could criticize it, but who has ever duplicated it?

When I completed the Book of Mormon, I had an intellectual testimony, but I wanted the answer from God. That would be the clincher. If the book was true, he would live up to the promise made at the end. And so I prepared myself and prayed. I prayed for three hours one night! I was determined to not arise until I had my answer. Then it came. In an experience too sacred to relate in detail, a palpable light burst through the ceiling of my room and entered my body. It started at my head and flowed down through me with the feeling of coming in from the cold and drinking a warm fluid. The light burned out every doubt and filled me with a feeling of happiness and peace that I had never experienced. It enveloped me for a very long time, and gradually withdrew when I said I had had enough. Now I knew, and I needed no more proof. Thirty-nine years later, I can still remember the feeling and its impact on me. I absolutely know that the Book of Mormon is true, as is Joseph Smith, the Prophet who translated it. My testimony of the Book of Mormon matters.

Eternal Marriage Matters

I think Heavenly Father is the ultimate romantic. I believe that He loves a love story and He delights in finding individual ways to introduce His sons and daughters. My wife and I had a unique love story. Elder Maxwell was fond of saying there are no coincidences. I met Buffie when I was seventeen and she was fifteen. By chance, my little singing group had been asked to perform between acts for the MIA June Conference in Salt Lake City. That was a big deal for Boise kids. We had never even seen a mall, let alone a big city.

After one performance, a happy, rotund man approached us and said that he wanted to introduce us to “Mr. Music” in Salt Lake. We were all starry-eyed. We imagined fame and fortune were just around the corner. We got into our car and followed this man to a little apartment up above the Capitol building. When we knocked on the door, a little red-headed girl with big dimples opened. That was our introduction, but neither of us thought anything about it until four years later when I had returned from my mission.

Fast-forward to February 3, 1972. One night, I was eating a hamburger in the cafeteria at BYU. Suddenly, I heard a voice call, “Larry Barkdull! Is that you?” I looked over and saw Buffie with a date. I ran over and hugged her. (I didn’t care about that other guy.) We were just two old friends reuniting after years apart. That night I called her and we talked for three hours. The next day we had a date, and the next day, too. On Sunday, we drove to Salt Lake to visit her mother. On the way home, we were talking lightly, minding our own business (I seem to always be minding my own business when inspiration comes.) We had just pulled up to her apartment when a sudden powerful feeling washed over Buffie and she couldn’t catch her breath.

“Oh my!” she exclaimed. “I’m seeing you as though….” She couldn’t describe her feeling. She just stared at me as if in shock. “What does it mean?”

Then the feeling enveloped me. I was suddenly grateful that I wasn’t driving. “It means we are supposed to get married,” I said.

Buffie nodded, took a deep breath, and said, “I know…and I don’t love you yet!”

Well, she got over it and managed to tell me that she loved me a week before we got married. The next day I gave her a ring, and two months later we were sealed for eternity in the Salt Lake Temple.

As unique and challenging as was our courtship, we always look back on Heavenly Father’s “introduction” and remember that our eternal marriage started with a remarkable answer. Together, we have brought into this existence ten marvelous children, and our family has now expanded to thirty-two. Today, when I look into my wife’s eyes and contemplate the goodness of God in giving her to me, I testify that eternal marriage and family matter.

My Answer

I end as I began. Two decades ago I had a question. I struggled for an answer that for some reason was postponed. I did my due-diligence for a period of time, but finally had to decide whether I was going to let it bother me or build me. I handed it off to God and decided that it didn’t matter. I would focus instead on what I knew to be true: priesthood, redemption, testimony and eternal marriage and family. I would not risk absolutes for questions.

Then one day, twenty years later, as I was minding my own business, the answer came. It was a soft communication, wholly unremarkable. But there it was just the same. Suddenly, everything clicked. I paused for a moment, smiled, and said, “Oh, I never would have thought.” It was nice to finally have my answer, but it really didn’t matter much-not in comparison to what really matters.