I hope they call me on a mission when I have grown a foot or two…
Unlike most teenagers, I was still singing this classic primary song when I was in high school. Why? I was a shorty. I still harbored secret hopes that I might grow to be as tall as Shawn Bradley. I didn’t expect my 7 foot 6 height to make me any better of a basketball player than I then was, but I imagined that with such height my technical balling skills would be far less important than my ability on the defensive end to keep track of the three second window in the paint, to step in to take a charge, and to simply keep my arms up, since no shot would be able to get past my massive reach. In fact, the only problem I’d face on the court would be to make sure my underarm hair wasn’t too horrendous and to remember to use clear deodorant rather than the powdery white, clumpy stuff.
Unfortunately, as a junior in high school, I was still waiting for the two and a half foot growth spurt I would need to get the pro scouts to start lining up at my door. Even as my professional basketball hopes waned, I was still determined to hit six feet. But no amount of Wheaties seemed to help. It seemed that I was destined to a life of looking up at the rest of the world. Still I hoped that I might be called on a mission having grown a foot or two. I even made a bet with a friend that I’d hit six feet. And I’m happy to say that I did enjoy a steak dinner at the expense of this friend a year or two later. I outgrew three or four pairs of jeans over the course of six months, but grow I did.
And serve a mission I did, too. But of the two accomplishments, I am far more proud of one than the other—although I think that the delayed Wheaties-inspired growth spurt was quite the feat. I had the privilege and opportunity to spend two years among the quiet-natured, but faithful people of Estonia and will always look back fondly on the experiences and relationships that were forged in that distant land.
Yesterday, in the opening session of General Conference, President Thomas S. Monson announced that young men will have a little less time to grow a foot or two before they set off for distant lands to serve in the ranks of God’s army. Young men may now leave for missions at the age of 18 rather than 19, and young women may leave as early as age 19.
The announcement came as a huge surprise to me and perhaps many other members of my church. It remains to be seen how the new age standard might change expectations and patterns in mission preparation. As the well-known song continues, I hope by then I will be ready to teach and preach and work as missionaries do. Will most young men plan to begin their missions shortly after high school, shifting the norm from the 19th birthday to graduation? Will only some young men leave that early and others leave sometime in the year afterward as they feel sufficiently ready and mature? Will priesthood leaders look more closely at spiritual readiness and maturity in each young man individually, helping to raise the bar even further?
Personally, I feel that I gained a great deal from my freshman year at BYU. Academically, I learned to study and work harder than ever before. I believe this helped me with the language learning I received in the MTC. By moving away from home, I learned how to care for myself, wash my own clothes, and cook for myself—if you can call Ramen and “Yellow Death” cooking. I learned to interact socially with roommates and handle conflicts. Finally, I simply had the experience to survive emotionally, away from the safety and familiar environs of the home I had lived in for the past 18 years. I strongly believe that all of this prepared me to board a plane and fly to a land 9 time zones and over 5000 miles away. But was it necessary?
My birthday falls in late January. And I was faced with a decision to either finish my freshman year at BYU, leaving on my mission in late spring, or to put my available date as my actual birthday. My mother felt that I would benefit from the additional semester at school, perhaps for many of the same reasons I’ve already mentioned. My older brother was to get home from his mission in May, and I know Mom liked the idea of having her whole family together again for a short period, perhaps a family photo or two. Regardless of her reasons, she encouraged me to choose the latter. I, however, felt excited about suiting up and serving and wanted to go as soon as I could. Ultimately, I decided to put my mission available date as my birthday. My mission call, however, assigned me to enter the MTC the following June, so I went ahead and registered for spring classes and took advantage of the time to further prepare myself to serve.
I hope that I can share the gospel with those who want to know the truth.
I want to be a missionary and serve and help the Lord while I am in my youth.
While maturity is very important, it is the desire to serve that qualifies a missionary for the work. Therefore, if ye have desires to serve God ye are called to the work; for behold the field is white already to harvest. The greatest readiness is found in the desires of a young man’s heart. But, ultimately, hoping to be ready to serve when the call comes is not enough. I believe this momentous announcement will put the fire under priesthood leaders and priest quorums to further raise the bar and prepare young men to serve, helping them to mature and grow, increasing in wisdom and stature, and in favour with God and man.
Even with a full year of growth and maturity following high school under my belt, was I ready? Not really. I certainly wasn’t as ready as I could have been. But I did have a desire to serve. And that desire to serve never waivered. Was I scared at times? Did I feel homesick? Were there difficult days? Yes, yes, and yes. Did I have the best experience of my life up to that point? One that I look back to even now with some longing to return to those distant shores? Yes and yes!
On one of my preparation days—the day each week set aside for laundry, shopping, some physical activity and sightseeing, and letters home—I sat down and penned a story that captured some feelings I’d been facing about the difficulties and joys of service and the vision that I tried to carry as my banner and Title of Liberty each day as I rose from my knees with my companion and left the apartment to go about doing good. My thoughts about the announcement yesterday and the missionary-themed talks made me think back to this story, one that I would like to share with you. I entitled my story A Day in the Shoes of a Shepherd.
* * *
Beep… Beep… Beep… The alarm cut through the chilly morning air. Elder Samson reached over, switched it off, and wrapped up tightly in his blanket. Allowing a frustrated grumble, he slowly sat up in bed. He peered through the darkness toward his companion, Elder Brown’s bed. Like usual, it was empty.
From the other room, he could hear a faint, “One… two… three…” His companion was doing his daily morning exercise routine.
Why can’t I be more like Elder Brown, the young missionary wondered as he had done many times before. Energetic, happy, positive… He let out a sigh, threw his pillow across the room, and stood up out of bed. Trudging to the small window, he glanced out indifferently. Across the already dark sky stretched an even darker line of clouds. Rain… miserable rain again. If only the sun might come out today, he prayerfully thought.
Elder Samson saw the clock. 6:35: Time for companionship study. ‘Oh Boy!’ he thought sarcastically. In the other room, he found Elder Brown covered in sweat, reading from the Book of Mormon.
Elder Brown glanced up, smiled, and exclaimed, “Good morning, Elder! You ready for an awesome day?”
Awesome day?!? Today would be just like yesterday and the day before and the one before that. Tracting. They hadn’t taught a discussion in over three weeks. This area had been pronounced “dead” by every missionary who had ever served here, excepting Elder Brown. The members weren’t very friendly or supportive, there weren’t any investigators, and the only new member was the 10-year old daughter of an inactive couple. Already she had joined her parents in the ranks of inactivity. Elder Samson had been a little less than thrilled to be transferred to this area a month back. And he was looking forward to the next transfers.
“Yeah,” he answered his companion with as little energy as he could muster.
“All right,” Elder Brown responded. “Let’s get started. We’re on page 118: Charity.”
As Elder Brown began reading, Elder Samson’s thoughts wandered off again. Just great! Preach My Gospel always seems to mention the topics that I’m struggling with the most. When was the last time I felt charity for these people? I pray for it; I want to love these people; but I just can’t show it. Elder Brown can. You can see it in his smile and his friendly countenance. I try to do these things too, but it all seems fake, like I don’t really mean it. Maybe I don’t…
Elder Brown finished reading the section and asked, “So what is charity, and why is it important to us as missionaries?”
Elder Samson mumbled a reply. Elder Brown jumped in, “You’re right, Elder! Charity is…” Great, thought Elder Samson. Here goes Elder Brown into one of his great sermons. Elder Samson began staring at the clock. Fifteen minutes left… His eyes felt heavy, and he started drifting off. Elder Brown noticed and said, “Let’s turn to Moroni 7. Would you read?”
Elder Samson jerked awake, grabbed his scriptures, and fumbled through the pages. The end of companionship study came none too soon for Elder Samson. They offered the morning prayer, and then he sped off to the bathroom. Maybe a nice shower would help to wake him up. The water came out brown and rusty as usual, but at least it was hot. That was one advantage to this apartment… a personal water heater. A few weeks earlier, the temperature was hovering around zero Fahrenheit. Snow had piled up everywhere. Elder Samson’s prayers for warmer weather so they could more effectively do the work had been answered. The temperature warmed up to the freezing point, and the snow turned into slush, mud, and rain. This weather was worse, and Elder Samson found himself now praying for the drier snow again. It was early February, and there was still a lot of winter left.
Why was I called to Estonia, he thought. Why not somewhere warmer like Florida or California? Then I wouldn’t have to learn this crazy language, be in this crazy weather, and try to teach these hard-hearted people. Estonia… Who’s ever heard of Estonia? I certainly hadn’t when I opened up my call. I must have slept through that geography lesson. And this language has to be the hardest one in the world… They say Finnish is harder, but I’m not sure if any language could be harder than this one. Maybe I’ll know enough by the time I go home so that I can bear my testimony in Estonian at my homecoming.
Suddenly the water began coming out cold. That brought a quick end to his shower as Elder Samson shut off the water and grabbed his towel. The pilot light must have gone off on the heater, he muttered angrily. He grabbed a tie and his shirt and began to dress, huddled close to the floor heater in the bedroom. He glanced out the window. It was still just as dark as it had been earlier. The sun usually didn’t come up, if at all, before 10:30 and would set by 3:00 in the afternoon. Just one more thing he had added to his list of complaints.
As he cinched up his favorite tie, he noticed a wonderful smell coming from the kitchen. Elder Brown must have fixed himself a nice breakfast today. As he walked in, Elder Brown asked, “Is the water warm today?”
“The pilot light went out,” Elder Samson replied.
“I’ll go start it up again,” Elder Brown said. As he left, he remembered, “Oh… Your plate is there on the counter. Sorry, but it’s probably a little cold now.”
My plate? Sure enough, there it was. He grabbed it and saw pancakes, bacon, and eggs, just the way he liked them. “Uh… Thanks!” he called down the hallway. Elder Brown was always doing things like that. Shining his shoes, making his bed, doing the dishes… And he never complained. Why can’t I be more like Elder Brown? He was loving, charitable, and happy. This was the second time today that this thought had crossed Elder Samson’s mind. Only this time his question was answered by a thought that came to mind. Why not? You could be if you wanted.
He pondered that thought for a few minutes as he forked the delicious food into his mouth. But that would be so difficult… to smile after rejections, to find good in the bad, to be charitable… Charity. The word rang in his head. He grabbed the Book of Mormon he had left on the table after companionship study, and he flipped back open to Moroni 7. “But charity is the pure love of Christ,” he read softly, “and it endureth forever; and whoso is found possessed of it at the last day, it shall be well with him.” It was obvious that charity was necessary for the work. That much he had learned. Racking his memory, he’d never once had a success in times of frustration, complaint, or anger. But one phrase struck him: the pure love of Christ. To be charitable, he must simply see people and love them through the eyes of the Savior… like he should be doing anyway… like Elder Brown already did every day.
For so long, he’d been jealous, even angry, with his “perfect” companion. His companion’s warm smile always irritated him because he knew it was so hard for he himself to smile. But the question puzzled him. If my companion’s so righteous, faithful, obedient, and charitable, why aren’t we having more success? Shouldn’t his faith and love make up for my weaker faith and love? The gentle prompting of the Spirit once again brought to his mind the thought, Maybe he is ready to experience success, but maybe you aren’t yet… but if you would both prove to me that you have faith enough to succeed and to show true love for these precious children of mine, who I truly want to lead to the truth, then your success would meet no bounds.
This powerful thought brought tears to Elder Samson’s eyes. It had never occurred to him before that he was not ready to succeed. He didn’t believe they could find investigators. Even if they did, he wouldn’t teach them out of true love. Am I an instrument in the Lord’s hands? Or is the Lord waiting for someone with more faith and charity to teach his chosen children?
His last few bites of pancake sat uneaten. Elder Samson could hear the shower starting. How could he be filled with love like Elder Brown has… like Christ has? He truly desired it for the first time in such a long time. If he could be like Elder Brown, they’d be an unstoppable team. But he’d have to first humble himself and find some way or other to develop charity. His eyes wandered back to that blue book in front of him. One phrase seemed to be bolded and bright… “Wherefore, my beloved brethren, pray unto the Father with all the energy of heart, that ye may be filled with this love which he hath bestowed upon all who are true followers of his Son, Jesus Christ.” He had read this same spot earlier that morning. But now the meaning took on new significance.
Elder Samson fell to his knees. And he began to plead with his Father in Heaven in a sincere way that he hadn’t before done. Heavenly Father, I have sinned by being stubborn, prideful, hard-hearted… At least I understand that now. I think that’s the first step to humility, Father. I truly want to love these, thy children. They are precious. Help me to love them and see them with new eyes and a new understanding. Help me to be more like my older brother, Jesus Christ. His eyes watered as he literally pled his Heavenly Father’s mercy and help. He’d wasted so much time… The time of change was at hand, he promised himself and the Lord. One gentle thought touched him, My son… I am well pleased in your confession and change of heart.
As Elder Samson cried in joy, a clear picture came into his mind. He recognized two of the seven individuals. He and his good friend and companion, Elder Brown, stood with a family of five. And all were beautifully dressed in white. Elder Samson’s heart was filled with excitement and an overwhelming love for those people he momentarily saw. Who were those people? He didn’t recognize them. And was there such a thing as a family of five in Estonia who’d accept the gospel? Earlier today, he might have laughed at the thought. But now… His faith had taken root. He’d had a change of heart. He wouldn’t be surprised if Elder Brown had this vision every morning to give him such a drive. Elder Samson didn’t know these people, but one thing he did know. They were waiting for him to bless their lives with the gospel message. And if he didn’t have the faith to find them, another missionary would. The Lord had chosen these people. And how much of an advantage would it be to find them today and not to delay?
His companion walked into the kitchen as he climbed from his knees. Elder Brown shot him a flashy smile, not cheesy or fake, but sincere. “Elder Brown…” Elder Samson stammered. “What makes you so happy every day?”
Elder Brown looked puzzled, “With such great people as these Estonians are, what’s not to be happy about?”
Elder Samson tried to test him, “But really… Most people don’t keep their meetings, most don’t want to even say hi to us, they smoke they drink…” Elder Brown’s loving gaze stopped him.
After a moment of silence, he gently replied, “But they are children of our Heavenly Father. And I truly love them as such. They are the greatest people on Earth, and there’s some great family out there waiting to hear the gospel message… We are going to find them.” He smiled again and slipped out of the room.
So it was true. His companion’s motivation was sincere love. And just from his companion’s example, his own love was growing. He no longer looked at Elder Brown in jealousy or anger, but in admiration and respect. He actually loved his companion. Now that was a start, a beginning to this change of heart. He looked at his watch. 8:30… There was a full day ahead of him… still time to change… time to find that family in white. He felt ashamed for wasted time, but still he felt grateful for the opportunity to change. He pledged to himself that today would be different. Today, Elder Samson would spend a day in the shoes of Elder Brown… a day in the shoes of a shepherd.
But how should I start? He looked around, and his companion’s black rainy-weather boots caught his eye. He grabbed them and began to polish while practicing his discussion memorization, something he had not done for some time. He paused to look out the window into the dark morning air. Yes it was still dim, but he noticed something. There wasn’t a cloud in the darkened sky. And that meant that in about two hours he would be seeing sun. Yes! His heart rejoiced! Today would be quite the day. Hopefully it would be so good that he’d try it again tomorrow.
Are you Elder Samson? No.
I believe that Elder Brown has to place a special order for his unique eyeglasses prescription that allows him to see men in this way. Although Elder Brown may be a fictional character from my mind, he is based upon the lives of many who have suited up and placed the black name tag over their left breast. President Monson shared the following story in his talk last night.
Given Laudie genes, my younger brothers might need till their nineteenth birthdays—like I did—to grow that foot or two before there time to serve comes. But if they choose, and their bishop feels they are ready and worthy, to serve when they are still eighteen, I have every confidence that they will be like Elder Brown and this baptizing missionary from 1961. They will be able to serve as Christ would serve, to proudly wear His wonderful name upon their chests, and to proudly don those shiny, black shoes of the shepherd as they walk those spiritual paths that He trod during His mortal ministry and after, doing His work in His way.
President Monson, I hear your call. I understand the powerful lesson you are teaching. It applies to each of us, not only in our missionary efforts but also in our gospel service as home teachers, fathers, husbands, and brothers of our fellow men. We need to do a little less judging of our brothers and sisters and a little more loving of them regardless of their outward or inward appearance. We may not wear shiny, black shoes each day as we go to school, to work, to the store, or to the gym. But whether we wear Doc Martens, Sketchers, red polka-dot stilettos, Old Navy flip-flops, slippers, ratty sneakers from DI, or even go barefoot, ours is the opportunity to walk a day in the shoes of the shepherd, doing His work in His way, loving His children in His way.
From the other room, he could hear a faint, “One… two… three…” His companion was doing his daily morning exercise routine.
Why can’t I be more like Elder Brown, the young missionary wondered as he had done many times before. Energetic, happy, positive… He let out a sigh, threw his pillow across the room, and stood up out of bed. Trudging to the small window, he glanced out indifferently. Across the already dark sky stretched an even darker line of clouds. Rain… miserable rain again. If only the sun might come out today, he prayerfully thought.
Elder Samson saw the clock. 6:35: Time for companionship study. ‘Oh Boy!’ he thought sarcastically. In the other room, he found Elder Brown covered in sweat, reading from the Book of Mormon.
Elder Brown glanced up, smiled, and exclaimed, “Good morning, Elder! You ready for an awesome day?”
Awesome day?!? Today would be just like yesterday and the day before and the one before that. Tracting. They hadn’t taught a discussion in over three weeks. This area had been pronounced “dead” by every missionary who had ever served here, excepting Elder Brown. The members weren’t very friendly or supportive, there weren’t any investigators, and the only new member was the 10-year old daughter of an inactive couple. Already she had joined her parents in the ranks of inactivity. Elder Samson had been a little less than thrilled to be transferred to this area a month back. And he was looking forward to the next transfers.
“Yeah,” he answered his companion with as little energy as he could muster.
“All right,” Elder Brown responded. “Let’s get started. We’re on page 118: Charity.”
As Elder Brown began reading, Elder Samson’s thoughts wandered off again. Just great! Preach My Gospel always seems to mention the topics that I’m struggling with the most. When was the last time I felt charity for these people? I pray for it; I want to love these people; but I just can’t show it. Elder Brown can. You can see it in his smile and his friendly countenance. I try to do these things too, but it all seems fake, like I don’t really mean it. Maybe I don’t…
Elder Brown finished reading the section and asked, “So what is charity, and why is it important to us as missionaries?”
Elder Samson mumbled a reply. Elder Brown jumped in, “You’re right, Elder! Charity is…” Great, thought Elder Samson. Here goes Elder Brown into one of his great sermons. Elder Samson began staring at the clock. Fifteen minutes left… His eyes felt heavy, and he started drifting off. Elder Brown noticed and said, “Let’s turn to Moroni 7. Would you read?”
Elder Samson jerked awake, grabbed his scriptures, and fumbled through the pages. The end of companionship study came none too soon for Elder Samson. They offered the morning prayer, and then he sped off to the bathroom. Maybe a nice shower would help to wake him up. The water came out brown and rusty as usual, but at least it was hot. That was one advantage to this apartment… a personal water heater. A few weeks earlier, the temperature was hovering around zero Fahrenheit. Snow had piled up everywhere. Elder Samson’s prayers for warmer weather so they could more effectively do the work had been answered. The temperature warmed up to the freezing point, and the snow turned into slush, mud, and rain. This weather was worse, and Elder Samson found himself now praying for the drier snow again. It was early February, and there was still a lot of winter left.
Why was I called to Estonia, he thought. Why not somewhere warmer like Florida or California? Then I wouldn’t have to learn this crazy language, be in this crazy weather, and try to teach these hard-hearted people. Estonia… Who’s ever heard of Estonia? I certainly hadn’t when I opened up my call. I must have slept through that geography lesson. And this language has to be the hardest one in the world… They say Finnish is harder, but I’m not sure if any language could be harder than this one. Maybe I’ll know enough by the time I go home so that I can bear my testimony in Estonian at my homecoming.
Suddenly the water began coming out cold. That brought a quick end to his shower as Elder Samson shut off the water and grabbed his towel. The pilot light must have gone off on the heater, he muttered angrily. He grabbed a tie and his shirt and began to dress, huddled close to the floor heater in the bedroom. He glanced out the window. It was still just as dark as it had been earlier. The sun usually didn’t come up, if at all, before 10:30 and would set by 3:00 in the afternoon. Just one more thing he had added to his list of complaints.
As he cinched up his favorite tie, he noticed a wonderful smell coming from the kitchen. Elder Brown must have fixed himself a nice breakfast today. As he walked in, Elder Brown asked, “Is the water warm today?”
“The pilot light went out,” Elder Samson replied.
“I’ll go start it up again,” Elder Brown said. As he left, he remembered, “Oh… Your plate is there on the counter. Sorry, but it’s probably a little cold now.”
My plate? Sure enough, there it was. He grabbed it and saw pancakes, bacon, and eggs, just the way he liked them. “Uh… Thanks!” he called down the hallway. Elder Brown was always doing things like that. Shining his shoes, making his bed, doing the dishes… And he never complained. Why can’t I be more like Elder Brown? He was loving, charitable, and happy. This was the second time today that this thought had crossed Elder Samson’s mind. Only this time his question was answered by a thought that came to mind. Why not? You could be if you wanted.
He pondered that thought for a few minutes as he forked the delicious food into his mouth. But that would be so difficult… to smile after rejections, to find good in the bad, to be charitable… Charity. The word rang in his head. He grabbed the Book of Mormon he had left on the table after companionship study, and he flipped back open to Moroni 7. “But charity is the pure love of Christ,” he read softly, “and it endureth forever; and whoso is found possessed of it at the last day, it shall be well with him.” It was obvious that charity was necessary for the work. That much he had learned. Racking his memory, he’d never once had a success in times of frustration, complaint, or anger. But one phrase struck him: the pure love of Christ. To be charitable, he must simply see people and love them through the eyes of the Savior… like he should be doing anyway… like Elder Brown already did every day.
For so long, he’d been jealous, even angry, with his “perfect” companion. His companion’s warm smile always irritated him because he knew it was so hard for he himself to smile. But the question puzzled him. If my companion’s so righteous, faithful, obedient, and charitable, why aren’t we having more success? Shouldn’t his faith and love make up for my weaker faith and love? The gentle prompting of the Spirit once again brought to his mind the thought, Maybe he is ready to experience success, but maybe you aren’t yet… but if you would both prove to me that you have faith enough to succeed and to show true love for these precious children of mine, who I truly want to lead to the truth, then your success would meet no bounds.
This powerful thought brought tears to Elder Samson’s eyes. It had never occurred to him before that he was not ready to succeed. He didn’t believe they could find investigators. Even if they did, he wouldn’t teach them out of true love. Am I an instrument in the Lord’s hands? Or is the Lord waiting for someone with more faith and charity to teach his chosen children?
His last few bites of pancake sat uneaten. Elder Samson could hear the shower starting. How could he be filled with love like Elder Brown has… like Christ has? He truly desired it for the first time in such a long time. If he could be like Elder Brown, they’d be an unstoppable team. But he’d have to first humble himself and find some way or other to develop charity. His eyes wandered back to that blue book in front of him. One phrase seemed to be bolded and bright… “Wherefore, my beloved brethren, pray unto the Father with all the energy of heart, that ye may be filled with this love which he hath bestowed upon all who are true followers of his Son, Jesus Christ.” He had read this same spot earlier that morning. But now the meaning took on new significance.
Elder Samson fell to his knees. And he began to plead with his Father in Heaven in a sincere way that he hadn’t before done. Heavenly Father, I have sinned by being stubborn, prideful, hard-hearted… At least I understand that now. I think that’s the first step to humility, Father. I truly want to love these, thy children. They are precious. Help me to love them and see them with new eyes and a new understanding. Help me to be more like my older brother, Jesus Christ. His eyes watered as he literally pled his Heavenly Father’s mercy and help. He’d wasted so much time… The time of change was at hand, he promised himself and the Lord. One gentle thought touched him, My son… I am well pleased in your confession and change of heart.
As Elder Samson cried in joy, a clear picture came into his mind. He recognized two of the seven individuals. He and his good friend and companion, Elder Brown, stood with a family of five. And all were beautifully dressed in white. Elder Samson’s heart was filled with excitement and an overwhelming love for those people he momentarily saw. Who were those people? He didn’t recognize them. And was there such a thing as a family of five in Estonia who’d accept the gospel? Earlier today, he might have laughed at the thought. But now… His faith had taken root. He’d had a change of heart. He wouldn’t be surprised if Elder Brown had this vision every morning to give him such a drive. Elder Samson didn’t know these people, but one thing he did know. They were waiting for him to bless their lives with the gospel message. And if he didn’t have the faith to find them, another missionary would. The Lord had chosen these people. And how much of an advantage would it be to find them today and not to delay?
His companion walked into the kitchen as he climbed from his knees. Elder Brown shot him a flashy smile, not cheesy or fake, but sincere. “Elder Brown…” Elder Samson stammered. “What makes you so happy every day?”
Elder Brown looked puzzled, “With such great people as these Estonians are, what’s not to be happy about?”
Elder Samson tried to test him, “But really… Most people don’t keep their meetings, most don’t want to even say hi to us, they smoke they drink…” Elder Brown’s loving gaze stopped him.
After a moment of silence, he gently replied, “But they are children of our Heavenly Father. And I truly love them as such. They are the greatest people on Earth, and there’s some great family out there waiting to hear the gospel message… We are going to find them.” He smiled again and slipped out of the room.
So it was true. His companion’s motivation was sincere love. And just from his companion’s example, his own love was growing. He no longer looked at Elder Brown in jealousy or anger, but in admiration and respect. He actually loved his companion. Now that was a start, a beginning to this change of heart. He looked at his watch. 8:30… There was a full day ahead of him… still time to change… time to find that family in white. He felt ashamed for wasted time, but still he felt grateful for the opportunity to change. He pledged to himself that today would be different. Today, Elder Samson would spend a day in the shoes of Elder Brown… a day in the shoes of a shepherd.
But how should I start? He looked around, and his companion’s black rainy-weather boots caught his eye. He grabbed them and began to polish while practicing his discussion memorization, something he had not done for some time. He paused to look out the window into the dark morning air. Yes it was still dim, but he noticed something. There wasn’t a cloud in the darkened sky. And that meant that in about two hours he would be seeing sun. Yes! His heart rejoiced! Today would be quite the day. Hopefully it would be so good that he’d try it again tomorrow.
* * *
In one of my prior sermons where I shared a story I’d written, I went to the mailbag for a brief Q&A with my fans—yes I do have fans, pretend and otherwise. I thought I might try that again here. Let’s see what we have here…
Are you Elder Samson? No.
Are you Elder Brown? No.
Are these missionaries based on real people? Yes.
Companions of yours? Not exactly… You see, there’s a little bit of Elder Samson and a little bit of Elder Brown in every missionary. In some missionaries, there’s a lot of Elder Samson; and, in others, there’s a lot of Elder Brown. For me, it wasn’t just during my adjustment to a strange land, language, and people when I felt like Elder Samson. Throughout my entire mission, I experienced days when I was an Elder Samson, struggling to maintain a higher and more divine perspective on my service and struggling to rekindle a Christlike view of those I served. On days like this, it was easy to feel rejected and focus negatively on external frustrations. On the other hand, there were many days when I was able to lose myself in hard work and Christlike service, seeing my brothers and sisters of Estonia perhaps the way my Father in Heaven and my Savior see them. Those were wonderful days, the kind of days that made my mission.
I’ll take one more question… Do the names have any significance? Indeed they do. I couldn’t think of a more common, ordinary last name than Brown. I purposefully didn’t pick a notable church name, like Kimball, Young, Smith, or Edwards, that might just be perceived as a little more spiritual and righteous than another. Elder Brown could be a simple farmer from Idaho, the son of a truck driver from Wyoming, a seminary class president from Vernal, or any of 60,000 other missionary profiles. There is nothing special about this young man other than his unrelenting zeal to serve as Christ would serve, to follow in the footprints of a shepherd.
As for Elder Samson? Perhaps we all remember the jawbone-swinging, long-haired, muscle-massed judge of Israel who had a weakness for pretty eyes. With his God-given strength, Samson had such great potential! What a mighty hero he should have been! But Samson, like his gospel-preaching namesake, struggled to live up to his promise by getting caught up in the world around him and failing to appreciate his divine call. Elder Samson also had a lot of pent up strength, just waiting to be unleashed in a righteous cause. But unlike his Biblical namesake, he experienced a life-changing glimpse of his righteous potential. I hope that he made this day the pattern and the norm for those that were to follow through the duration of his two-year service.
Last night, President Monson pleaded with every man of the priesthood to suit up and lace up the shoes of the shepherd. He said, “There are countless individuals, who have little or no testimony right now, who could and would receive such a testimony if we would be willing to make the effort to share ours and to help them change. We must develop the capacity to see men, not as they are at present, but as they may become when they receive testimonies of the gospel of Christ.”
I believe that Elder Brown has to place a special order for his unique eyeglasses prescription that allows him to see men in this way. Although Elder Brown may be a fictional character from my mind, he is based upon the lives of many who have suited up and placed the black name tag over their left breast. President Monson shared the following story in his talk last night.
“Back in the year 1961… N. Eldon Tanner, who was then an assistant to the quorum of the twelve, had just returned from his initial experience presiding over the missions of Great Britain and Western Europe. He told of a missionary who had been the most successful missionary whom he met in all of the interviews he conducted. He said that, as he interviewed that missionary, he said to him, “I suppose that all of the people whom you have baptized came into the church by way of referrals.” The young man answered, “No. We found them all by tracting.”
Brother Tanner asked him what was different about his approach, why he had such phenomenal success when others didn’t. The young man said that he had attempted to baptize every person whom he met. He said if he knocked on the door and saw a man smoking a cigar and dressed in old clothes and seemingly disinterested in anything, particularly religion, the missionary would picture in his own mind what that man would look like under a different set of circumstances. In his mind, he would look at him as clean-shaven, wearing a white shirt and white trousers, and the missionary could see himself leading that man into the waters of baptism. He said, “When I look at someone that way, I have the capacity to bear my testimony to him in a way that can touch his heart.”
We have the responsibility to look at our friends, our associates, our neighbors, this way. Again, we have the responsibility to see individuals, not as they are, but rather as they can become. I would plead with you to think of them in this way.”
Given Laudie genes, my younger brothers might need till their nineteenth birthdays—like I did—to grow that foot or two before there time to serve comes. But if they choose, and their bishop feels they are ready and worthy, to serve when they are still eighteen, I have every confidence that they will be like Elder Brown and this baptizing missionary from 1961. They will be able to serve as Christ would serve, to proudly wear His wonderful name upon their chests, and to proudly don those shiny, black shoes of the shepherd as they walk those spiritual paths that He trod during His mortal ministry and after, doing His work in His way.
But President Monson’s call came to each and every one of us who bear the Holy Priesthood of our God.
“Brethren, to each of us comes the mandate to share the gospel of Christ. When one lives in compliance with God’s own standard, those in our sphere of influence will never speak a lament. The harvest is vast. The summer is ended. We are not safe. The perfect shepherd of souls, the missionary who redeemed mankind, gave us his divine assurance. ‘If it so be that ye should labor all your days in crying repentance unto this people and bring but one soul unto me, how great shall be your joy with him in the kingdom of my father…’
I pray that we will have the courage to extend the hand of fellowship; the tenacity to try, and try, and try again; and the humility needed to seek guidance from our father as we fulfill our mandate to share the gospel. The responsibility is upon us brethren.”
President Monson, I hear your call. I understand the powerful lesson you are teaching. It applies to each of us, not only in our missionary efforts but also in our gospel service as home teachers, fathers, husbands, and brothers of our fellow men. We need to do a little less judging of our brothers and sisters and a little more loving of them regardless of their outward or inward appearance. We may not wear shiny, black shoes each day as we go to school, to work, to the store, or to the gym. But whether we wear Doc Martens, Sketchers, red polka-dot stilettos, Old Navy flip-flops, slippers, ratty sneakers from DI, or even go barefoot, ours is the opportunity to walk a day in the shoes of the shepherd, doing His work in His way, loving His children in His way.
And those, whose lives we influence for good, will look upon our feet as they would Christ’s in joyous gratitude, “How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings, that publisheth peace; that bringeth good tidings of good, that publisheth salvation; that saith unto Zion, Thy God reigneth!”
God bless you as you join me in lacing up and answering the call. Shall we not go on in so great a cause? Come, help the good work move along; put your shoulder to the wheel! We are all enlisted till the conflict is o’er; happy are we! Happy are we! Who’s on the Lord’s side? Who? Now is the time to show! Hope of Israel, rise in might with the sword of truth and right. O youth of the noble birthright, carry on, carry on, carry on! Go forth with hope and courage strong to spread the word abroad that people of all nations are children of our God! God our strength will be; press forward ever, called to serve our King!
