Today in Sacrament Meeting, we had an absent speaker. And so, we as a congregation had the collective responsibility to fill up the duration of the meeting with Insta-Talks® by those chosen on the spot. The topic? How have you felt God’s love in your life this past week? Let’s just say that I had something of a rough week. On a scale from 1 to 10, I'd be considered an optimist if I rated this one as a 2. So with a few minutes of forewarning, I sat there and thought, “What in the world would I speak on, this week of all weeks, in reference to God’s love in my life?”
Now, I would never volunteer myself to speak in Church. But one of my few talents is the ability to think quickly on my feet when it comes to spiritual topics and have meaningful insights to share in nearly any situation. More than once, I've been called upon, in similar circumstances to this Sacrament Meeting, to fill in for missing speakers with no forewarning, and these have been some of the stronger faith-promoting experiences I've enjoyed in my life. Today was different. For the first time in a long time, I had absolutely nothing to say on the topic at hand. And I was terrified, because I knew that I would be called up to share my non-existent Insta-Talk®. I uttered a silent prayer in my heart, pleading for help. And the Lord didn't fail me. The words and inspiration filled my mind and heart, and then I was ready for my turn. Only I wasn’t called up to speak. In fact, suspiciously, those who were selected all attended PEC this morning and were probably called on then, and the conducting counselor was possibly trying to just scare us, perhaps in fun and perhaps to truly make us prayerfully meditate on that topic. And in my case, he succeeded and the teaching that came in those few minutes to me from the Spirit was no less valuable and precious to me without the opportunity to share it from the pulpit.
So how have I felt God’s love in my life this week? One of my favorite talks was given several decades ago by an apostle in the First Presidency, President Hugh B. Brown, about a currant bush. I think I like this talk so much because I can relate to President Brown’s self-described ability to talk with inanimate objects. His special powers must be stronger than my own, because these objects never talk back to me... You'd think that would deter me from talking to unresponsive computer monitors, chairs, steering wheels, and the like. But no, many days I spend more time in long, drawn out conversations or debates with inanimate objects or unseen persons than I do with sentient beings. In short, I often talk with myself at length.
Well, President Brown describes a day in the garden in which he comes across a currant bush that had grown wild. Overgrown thorns and branches were covered in wilting leaves and blossoms would not grow. As a gardener, the best action was to prune back the bush and stake down the remaining branches so that they could grow back in a controlled and proper fashion. Standing back to admire his handiwork, President Brown’s special super power manifested itself and he imagined the dew on the branches as tears and heard the cry of the bush:
As the talk goes on, President Brown describes an experience where, after years of effort, service, and difficulty, he had risen through the ranks of the Canadian military and stood on the brink of a promotion that would have assured him and his family of wealth, comfort, and prestige for the rest of their lives. His commanding officer praised him and told him he deserved the advancement by all accounts, but that he unfortunately could not extend the promotion. President Brown was hurt and angered, even more so when he discovered the words “THIS MAN IS A MORMON” written across his file. This time it was he who raised his fist and his voice up to the heavens and cried out:
Well, that was President Brown’s experience. My experience came when I was preparing to leave for my mission. I received my call to serve in the Czech Prague mission. With a few months before my scheduled date to enter the MTC, I studied the culture, I began learning the language, I visited with returned missionaries from that country, and I sampled the food. I was excited and ready to hit the ground running from day one. And I did.
Like most of my academic endeavors, learning Czech proved to be challenging, but with effort, hard work, and help from my Heavenly Father things just clicked and I was doing great! Then came my pruning. Visa problems and further complications inspired the Brethren to reassign my missionary group to other missions. What this meant for me: I had to throw out several weeks of Czech and start all over learning Estonian. Estonia?!? I had never even heard of the country. The language sounded like that of the Ewoks on Star Wars. Rumors said Estonian was the third hardest language for an American to learn behind Navajo and Finnish, but those rumors probably have as much merit as those that claim Estonian to be the closest surviving remnant of the Adamic language.
My reassigned call was to the Lithuania Vilnius mission speaking Estonian. Although I was disappointed that I would not make it to Prague after all, I kept my spirits up and dove into the new language with full energy and mind, but lacking full heart. And for the first time in my life, I hit an absolute academic brick wall. The impact left me reeling, unable to make any sense of this foreign language and confused as to why I wasn’t making any progress. The more I struggled, the more unwilling I was to avoid sneaking an occasional longing for that original country and assignment I had been so excited for. Expending greater energy and effort, I struggled all the more, and spent increasing amounts of time murmuring and longing for a miraculous reversion to the original call.
Why did the Lord call me to the Czech Republic in the first place if governments weren’t going to cooperate and allow me to serve? If he could move mountains, turn water to wine, and atone for all mankind, why couldn’t he just soften one or two hearts and pave the way for the missionary work in that country? If I was really supposed to serve in Estonia, why didn’t he call me there to begin with? Is my call really inspired? Does it matter where I’m called to serve? I thought I had a testimony of my call. I don’t even know what they eat in Estonia… I sure wish I could try some authentic Czech dumplings! This language makes absolutely no sense… if only I was still learning Czech, things would be so much easier! I was doing so well with that language, and then you cut me down…
Such thoughts dominated my mind when I wasn’t busy struggling with the language, and although I didn’t let them interfere or detract from my efforts, I was really having a difficult time keeping my attitude where it should be, and I let myself get frustrated and discouraged. I never once had thoughts about throwing in the towel or going home, but I couldn’t let go of the thought, “If only…” I didn’t doubt the Lord or his plans for me, but I couldn’t let go of what was past and move forward in full faith and trust. Weeks went by and I didn’t seem to be making any progress on the language, and I finally conceded that unless my attitude changed, I would get out into the field completely unready to serve as a missionary. So I stopped praying so fervently for the Czech people and the softening of the hearts of their government leaders and started praying more for a testimony of my new call and an understanding of why the Lord had put me through this experience.
But even that didn’t seem to be the mental and spiritual breakthrough I needed. As I struggled to know why I had been put through this challenge, the challenge wasn’t getting any easier. Finally at a loss, I found myself preparing to attend the temple for our weekly session. Now, leaving on my mission, I had packed three suits but was only wearing two regularly. One of the three didn’t fit so well and gave me a bit of an itch, and I had only brought it to the MTC to appease my mother who had insisted that it was such a nice suit that had been so generously donated by a family friend back home. So I had arrived at the MTC and, while unpacking, had shoved it in the back of my closet and forgot about it completely.
Traditionally, we would wear a full suit up to the temple to look our best as missionaries. And on this particular temple day, I had not prepared well and had taken my other two suits to the dry cleaners a few days before. This left me with only a pair of suit pants. As I tried to figure out how I could get my suit back before the temple trip, I suddenly remembered the forgotten suit and quickly donned it and hurried up to the temple for our session.
After the session, as I had time in the Celestial Room to meditate and humbly supplicate the Lord for help with the language and my attitude, I found myself encompassed with the Spirit and a strong prompting to let go of the past. Right there, I promised the Lord that I would never again let the thought of “if only” come to my mind in connection with my original call. I would keep giving my all to learn the difficult new language, but I would not look back to the Czech Republic. I would fully trust him. Although I didn’t demand or expect answers or explanations for the mission call changes, I still hoped and prayed that they might come in time, but I would no longer wait on them before allowing my faith to carry me forward with an eye single to the glory of God.
The Spirit I felt as I left the Celestial Room confirmed to me that the commitments and promises I had made were pleasing to the Lord and were those that I was required to make to get the blessings and assistance I needed to succeed as His messenger in my upcoming mission.
Then we began to walk back down to the MTC and the strangest thing happened. This forgotten and not-so-comfortable suit that I had been compelled to wear because of my poor preparation began to itch. Now it had itched before when I had worn it, leading to my dislike of the suit, but at this moment, it really itched. It felt tight and confining, it burned… I still don’t know quite how to describe how it felt. To say it felt uncomfortable would be a huge understatement. In fact, it was almost comical how uncomfortable it felt on me at that moment. And that feeling kept growing to the point where I was almost ready to ditch my companion and run back to our dorm room so I could rip it off.
I maintained enough composure to make a quick stop by the dry cleaners to pick up my other suits on our way back. When I finally removed the ridiculous suit in our room, I felt a huge burden literally lifting off of my shoulders. I reached for my favorite suit that I had picked up and quickly dressed, feeling an intense sense of relief and comfort wash over me. To borrow from Alma, I might describe that wonderful feeling in his words, “There could be nothing so exquisite and so bitter as were my pains. Yea, and again I say unto you, my son, that on the other hand, there can be nothing so exquisite and sweet as was my joy!” The physical feelings I had felt were so clear and deliberate that I knew they were directed to me for a reason. And it was as I was hanging my suit jacket back on the hanger to cram once more into the back of my closet that I learned why. On the tag on the inside flap of the jacket were written the three words:
Made in Czechoslovakia.
And in that moment, it was as if I heard the gardener’s voice:
But the Lord wasn’t done with me. On my way to our classroom, I felt the funniest prompting that I needed to take off that suit jacket I had changed into. I didn’t want to, because I was afraid that that almost comical feeling of comfort and joy I had been allowed to feel in donning it might go away. But I knew better than to ignore the prompting, so I slipped off my jacket. My companion must have been wondering who had spiked my orange juice that morning with all of my funny behavior to this point. I didn’t need to be prompted that I was supposed to look at the tag of this second suit jacket. I read the words and quietly slipped it back on, the physical feelings of comfort returning, and we walked in silence to our morning class. The tag had read: Made in Lithuania, the country serving as headquarters for the mission I had been reassigned to. Once more, I heard the gardener’s voice:
To this day, I still don’t know why the Lord sent me to Estonia via a detour of a few weeks of learning Czech in the MTC. I do know that the message I preached as a missionary is true, and I do know that my service was acceptable to him. Could the same have been true if I had made it to Prague after all? Absolutely. But the gardener had other plans.
And he still has other plans. This week, how have I felt the Lord’s love in my life? This week I had opportunity to cry out, “How could you cut me down? I was doing so well!” There are many weeks when I feel this way, and I often forget the lessons of the currant bush and have to be reminded again. Such is my humanity and my natural man. And so for me that reminder came today in the form of a Sacrament Meeting scare tactic. The Lord’s love comes through his tender mercies, which are there more often than we probably realize, and in his gentle reminder, “I am the gardener here. Please trust me.”
And so I will.
Now, I would never volunteer myself to speak in Church. But one of my few talents is the ability to think quickly on my feet when it comes to spiritual topics and have meaningful insights to share in nearly any situation. More than once, I've been called upon, in similar circumstances to this Sacrament Meeting, to fill in for missing speakers with no forewarning, and these have been some of the stronger faith-promoting experiences I've enjoyed in my life. Today was different. For the first time in a long time, I had absolutely nothing to say on the topic at hand. And I was terrified, because I knew that I would be called up to share my non-existent Insta-Talk®. I uttered a silent prayer in my heart, pleading for help. And the Lord didn't fail me. The words and inspiration filled my mind and heart, and then I was ready for my turn. Only I wasn’t called up to speak. In fact, suspiciously, those who were selected all attended PEC this morning and were probably called on then, and the conducting counselor was possibly trying to just scare us, perhaps in fun and perhaps to truly make us prayerfully meditate on that topic. And in my case, he succeeded and the teaching that came in those few minutes to me from the Spirit was no less valuable and precious to me without the opportunity to share it from the pulpit.
So how have I felt God’s love in my life this week? One of my favorite talks was given several decades ago by an apostle in the First Presidency, President Hugh B. Brown, about a currant bush. I think I like this talk so much because I can relate to President Brown’s self-described ability to talk with inanimate objects. His special powers must be stronger than my own, because these objects never talk back to me... You'd think that would deter me from talking to unresponsive computer monitors, chairs, steering wheels, and the like. But no, many days I spend more time in long, drawn out conversations or debates with inanimate objects or unseen persons than I do with sentient beings. In short, I often talk with myself at length.
Well, President Brown describes a day in the garden in which he comes across a currant bush that had grown wild. Overgrown thorns and branches were covered in wilting leaves and blossoms would not grow. As a gardener, the best action was to prune back the bush and stake down the remaining branches so that they could grow back in a controlled and proper fashion. Standing back to admire his handiwork, President Brown’s special super power manifested itself and he imagined the dew on the branches as tears and heard the cry of the bush:“How could you do this to me? I was making such wonderful growth. I was almost as large as the fruit tree and the shade tree! And now you've cut me down. And all in the garden will look upon me with contempt and pity. How could you do it?!? I thought you were the gardener here!”And in his wisdom as an experienced gardener, President Brown answered the bush:
“Look little currant bush, I am the gardener here. And I know what I want you to be! If I let you go the way you want to go, you'll never amount to anything. But someday, when you're laden with fruit, you're going to think back and say, 'Thank you Mr. Gardener for cutting me down, for loving me enough to hurt me.'”
As the talk goes on, President Brown describes an experience where, after years of effort, service, and difficulty, he had risen through the ranks of the Canadian military and stood on the brink of a promotion that would have assured him and his family of wealth, comfort, and prestige for the rest of their lives. His commanding officer praised him and told him he deserved the advancement by all accounts, but that he unfortunately could not extend the promotion. President Brown was hurt and angered, even more so when he discovered the words “THIS MAN IS A MORMON” written across his file. This time it was he who raised his fist and his voice up to the heavens and cried out:"How could you do this to me God. I've done everything that I knew how to do to uphold the standards of the Church. I was making such wonderful growth and now you cut me down. How could you do it?!?”Then came the voice of the true gardener, in President Brown’s own voice to that currant bush so many years before:
“I'm the gardener here. I know what I want you to be. If I let you go the way you want to go, you'll never amount to anything. And someday, when you are ripened in life, you're going to shout back across time and say 'Thank you Mr. Gardener for cutting me down, for loving me enough to hurt me.'”
Well, that was President Brown’s experience. My experience came when I was preparing to leave for my mission. I received my call to serve in the Czech Prague mission. With a few months before my scheduled date to enter the MTC, I studied the culture, I began learning the language, I visited with returned missionaries from that country, and I sampled the food. I was excited and ready to hit the ground running from day one. And I did.
Like most of my academic endeavors, learning Czech proved to be challenging, but with effort, hard work, and help from my Heavenly Father things just clicked and I was doing great! Then came my pruning. Visa problems and further complications inspired the Brethren to reassign my missionary group to other missions. What this meant for me: I had to throw out several weeks of Czech and start all over learning Estonian. Estonia?!? I had never even heard of the country. The language sounded like that of the Ewoks on Star Wars. Rumors said Estonian was the third hardest language for an American to learn behind Navajo and Finnish, but those rumors probably have as much merit as those that claim Estonian to be the closest surviving remnant of the Adamic language.
My reassigned call was to the Lithuania Vilnius mission speaking Estonian. Although I was disappointed that I would not make it to Prague after all, I kept my spirits up and dove into the new language with full energy and mind, but lacking full heart. And for the first time in my life, I hit an absolute academic brick wall. The impact left me reeling, unable to make any sense of this foreign language and confused as to why I wasn’t making any progress. The more I struggled, the more unwilling I was to avoid sneaking an occasional longing for that original country and assignment I had been so excited for. Expending greater energy and effort, I struggled all the more, and spent increasing amounts of time murmuring and longing for a miraculous reversion to the original call.
Why did the Lord call me to the Czech Republic in the first place if governments weren’t going to cooperate and allow me to serve? If he could move mountains, turn water to wine, and atone for all mankind, why couldn’t he just soften one or two hearts and pave the way for the missionary work in that country? If I was really supposed to serve in Estonia, why didn’t he call me there to begin with? Is my call really inspired? Does it matter where I’m called to serve? I thought I had a testimony of my call. I don’t even know what they eat in Estonia… I sure wish I could try some authentic Czech dumplings! This language makes absolutely no sense… if only I was still learning Czech, things would be so much easier! I was doing so well with that language, and then you cut me down…
Such thoughts dominated my mind when I wasn’t busy struggling with the language, and although I didn’t let them interfere or detract from my efforts, I was really having a difficult time keeping my attitude where it should be, and I let myself get frustrated and discouraged. I never once had thoughts about throwing in the towel or going home, but I couldn’t let go of the thought, “If only…” I didn’t doubt the Lord or his plans for me, but I couldn’t let go of what was past and move forward in full faith and trust. Weeks went by and I didn’t seem to be making any progress on the language, and I finally conceded that unless my attitude changed, I would get out into the field completely unready to serve as a missionary. So I stopped praying so fervently for the Czech people and the softening of the hearts of their government leaders and started praying more for a testimony of my new call and an understanding of why the Lord had put me through this experience.
But even that didn’t seem to be the mental and spiritual breakthrough I needed. As I struggled to know why I had been put through this challenge, the challenge wasn’t getting any easier. Finally at a loss, I found myself preparing to attend the temple for our weekly session. Now, leaving on my mission, I had packed three suits but was only wearing two regularly. One of the three didn’t fit so well and gave me a bit of an itch, and I had only brought it to the MTC to appease my mother who had insisted that it was such a nice suit that had been so generously donated by a family friend back home. So I had arrived at the MTC and, while unpacking, had shoved it in the back of my closet and forgot about it completely.
Traditionally, we would wear a full suit up to the temple to look our best as missionaries. And on this particular temple day, I had not prepared well and had taken my other two suits to the dry cleaners a few days before. This left me with only a pair of suit pants. As I tried to figure out how I could get my suit back before the temple trip, I suddenly remembered the forgotten suit and quickly donned it and hurried up to the temple for our session.After the session, as I had time in the Celestial Room to meditate and humbly supplicate the Lord for help with the language and my attitude, I found myself encompassed with the Spirit and a strong prompting to let go of the past. Right there, I promised the Lord that I would never again let the thought of “if only” come to my mind in connection with my original call. I would keep giving my all to learn the difficult new language, but I would not look back to the Czech Republic. I would fully trust him. Although I didn’t demand or expect answers or explanations for the mission call changes, I still hoped and prayed that they might come in time, but I would no longer wait on them before allowing my faith to carry me forward with an eye single to the glory of God.
The Spirit I felt as I left the Celestial Room confirmed to me that the commitments and promises I had made were pleasing to the Lord and were those that I was required to make to get the blessings and assistance I needed to succeed as His messenger in my upcoming mission.
Then we began to walk back down to the MTC and the strangest thing happened. This forgotten and not-so-comfortable suit that I had been compelled to wear because of my poor preparation began to itch. Now it had itched before when I had worn it, leading to my dislike of the suit, but at this moment, it really itched. It felt tight and confining, it burned… I still don’t know quite how to describe how it felt. To say it felt uncomfortable would be a huge understatement. In fact, it was almost comical how uncomfortable it felt on me at that moment. And that feeling kept growing to the point where I was almost ready to ditch my companion and run back to our dorm room so I could rip it off.I maintained enough composure to make a quick stop by the dry cleaners to pick up my other suits on our way back. When I finally removed the ridiculous suit in our room, I felt a huge burden literally lifting off of my shoulders. I reached for my favorite suit that I had picked up and quickly dressed, feeling an intense sense of relief and comfort wash over me. To borrow from Alma, I might describe that wonderful feeling in his words, “There could be nothing so exquisite and so bitter as were my pains. Yea, and again I say unto you, my son, that on the other hand, there can be nothing so exquisite and sweet as was my joy!” The physical feelings I had felt were so clear and deliberate that I knew they were directed to me for a reason. And it was as I was hanging my suit jacket back on the hanger to cram once more into the back of my closet that I learned why. On the tag on the inside flap of the jacket were written the three words:
Made in Czechoslovakia.
And in that moment, it was as if I heard the gardener’s voice:
“Look little currant bush, I am the gardener here. And I know where I want you to grow! If I let you go the way you want to go, you'll never amount to anything. But someday, after you've spread my word and done my work, you're going to think back and say, 'Thank you Mr. Gardener for cutting me down, for loving me enough to hurt me.'”I was humbled. I had been put in my place. The Lord hadn’t reached out and slapped me, but he might as well have done so with how deliberately he had gotten my attention. I had promised Him that I would move forward. I had finally let go. And in His tender mercy, He had given me a very real reminder of my need to trust in Him. My faith was a little stronger, my commitment a little more firm. I was ready to get back in that classroom and have another go at that language.
But the Lord wasn’t done with me. On my way to our classroom, I felt the funniest prompting that I needed to take off that suit jacket I had changed into. I didn’t want to, because I was afraid that that almost comical feeling of comfort and joy I had been allowed to feel in donning it might go away. But I knew better than to ignore the prompting, so I slipped off my jacket. My companion must have been wondering who had spiked my orange juice that morning with all of my funny behavior to this point. I didn’t need to be prompted that I was supposed to look at the tag of this second suit jacket. I read the words and quietly slipped it back on, the physical feelings of comfort returning, and we walked in silence to our morning class. The tag had read: Made in Lithuania, the country serving as headquarters for the mission I had been reassigned to. Once more, I heard the gardener’s voice:
“You must learn to trust me completely. I have my reasons for everything I do, and they are for me. It is for you to simply trust me. I am the gardener.”That is my testimony. I can’t say anything further that can be any clearer than that. And just like President Brown, all I could say was, “Thank you Mr. Gardener for loving me enough to cut me down.” I went to Estonia. Eventually, I “learned” the language to a degree of fluency, not by any effort of mine alone. I served for two years, and I had many opportunities to remind myself of the gardener’s caring cultivation in my life when difficulties arose. When I came home, I still had a faint hope that in time, I might learn why I had been redirected to Estonia. I hadn’t had some miraculous discovery along the way making everything clear. But I didn’t need it.
To this day, I still don’t know why the Lord sent me to Estonia via a detour of a few weeks of learning Czech in the MTC. I do know that the message I preached as a missionary is true, and I do know that my service was acceptable to him. Could the same have been true if I had made it to Prague after all? Absolutely. But the gardener had other plans.And he still has other plans. This week, how have I felt the Lord’s love in my life? This week I had opportunity to cry out, “How could you cut me down? I was doing so well!” There are many weeks when I feel this way, and I often forget the lessons of the currant bush and have to be reminded again. Such is my humanity and my natural man. And so for me that reminder came today in the form of a Sacrament Meeting scare tactic. The Lord’s love comes through his tender mercies, which are there more often than we probably realize, and in his gentle reminder, “I am the gardener here. Please trust me.”
And so I will.
**************
As something of an addendum to this experience:
Two weeks after my sacrament meeting Insta-Talk® experience, I was organizing my filing cabinet with my wife. I came across a handful of sacrament meeting talks I had given in years past. One of these nearly jumped out of my hands and hit me in the face. It was a talk I gave shortly after moving to Arizona to take my first job out of school. The reason it hit me so powerfully was this: that talk from five years ago was the very message I’ve just shared, almost word-for-word, the same thoughts and experiences that came to me when I was asked, ‘How have you felt the Lord’s love in your life this week?’ Even though I was not called on to share this message from the pulpit that Sunday, I came home to write it down as an unspoken sermon of the heart that could provide me or my posterity strength at a future time. And as I was writing this down, I did not know that three feet away, filed away in a cabinet, was the very same sermon I was rewriting, one that had been spoken by me, one that I had forgotten, but one that had been brought to my remembrance by the Holy Ghost in a time of need.
What a special tender mercy to know that in his love and wisdom, my Heavenly Father had prepared me with special, powerful experiences ten years ago, that I would have the opportunity to share from the pulpit five years ago, and that I would desperately cling to in a time of trial and difficulty today. Just as in President Brown’s experience, where it was his own voice that came to him and reminded him of the lessons of the currant bush in his time of need, now it was my own voice, my own talk from five years ago, that came to me in my moment of need. And the way in which the Lord allowed me to discover that the gardener’s voice that I heard was, in fact, my own was yet another tender mercy and a testimony to me of His infinite goodness.
I'm sure Heavenly Father was so excited and pleased to prepare this special surprise for me. My mother is a wonderful inspiration to me. In response to a tender mercy of her own that she shared with me where the Lord helped her through an especially trying time, she wrote words that sum up my feelings better than my own words ever could:
God Bless!
Two weeks after my sacrament meeting Insta-Talk® experience, I was organizing my filing cabinet with my wife. I came across a handful of sacrament meeting talks I had given in years past. One of these nearly jumped out of my hands and hit me in the face. It was a talk I gave shortly after moving to Arizona to take my first job out of school. The reason it hit me so powerfully was this: that talk from five years ago was the very message I’ve just shared, almost word-for-word, the same thoughts and experiences that came to me when I was asked, ‘How have you felt the Lord’s love in your life this week?’ Even though I was not called on to share this message from the pulpit that Sunday, I came home to write it down as an unspoken sermon of the heart that could provide me or my posterity strength at a future time. And as I was writing this down, I did not know that three feet away, filed away in a cabinet, was the very same sermon I was rewriting, one that had been spoken by me, one that I had forgotten, but one that had been brought to my remembrance by the Holy Ghost in a time of need.
What a special tender mercy to know that in his love and wisdom, my Heavenly Father had prepared me with special, powerful experiences ten years ago, that I would have the opportunity to share from the pulpit five years ago, and that I would desperately cling to in a time of trial and difficulty today. Just as in President Brown’s experience, where it was his own voice that came to him and reminded him of the lessons of the currant bush in his time of need, now it was my own voice, my own talk from five years ago, that came to me in my moment of need. And the way in which the Lord allowed me to discover that the gardener’s voice that I heard was, in fact, my own was yet another tender mercy and a testimony to me of His infinite goodness.
I'm sure Heavenly Father was so excited and pleased to prepare this special surprise for me. My mother is a wonderful inspiration to me. In response to a tender mercy of her own that she shared with me where the Lord helped her through an especially trying time, she wrote words that sum up my feelings better than my own words ever could:"Was it all chance? Not a Chance! The Lord's timing is really remarkable. I am humbled that He set up the whole thing so beautifully as to bring me comfort at an emotionally trying time. Truly, I believe Heavenly Father was smiling in absolute delight at the surprise he'd worked out for me. Why? Because I know how happy and excited I am in anticipation of a child's joy when he's about to receive a special present I've prepared. In the New Testament we read of Jesus' teachings that if we, as imperfect parents, want to give good gifts to our children, how much more will our Father in Heaven want to give good things to His children who ask of him. Above all, our Father in Heaven loves us as a perfect parent. He knows our hearts and knows when we are hurting. At those times he encircles us in the arms of His love."Our Father in Heaven and His Son know us better than we know ourselves. They are always watching over us. They will save us from our greatest trials, our greatest weaknesses, and our greatest sorrows. Christ truly is our Savior and our Redeemer.
God Bless!
