Contemplating my life, it seems to be a pattern of divine intervention in my behalf.
From the moment I was born I have been watched over and guided in ever so slight ways to become what I am now. I know that I am not what I should be, but actually this encourages me. The anticipation of further growth is infinitely appealing. I have never felt more close to God than when I am struggling and learning.
I went to boot camp. Weird, huh? I know that surprises many of you who know me. It was an interesting time in my life. I was seventeen years old, looking forward to graduation from high school. I had led an exceedingly sheltered life, and was blessed in many ways but also very ignorant in more ways. I had a lot to learn, but didn't know it. The recruiter called me up and asked what my plans were for after high school.
Probably college, I said.
How are you going to pay for that? he asks.
I don't know. Grants, scholarships, whatever, I said.
What about a mission. Are you planning to go on a mission? he asks.
Yep, I say.
How are you going to pay for that? he asks.
I don't know, I say. I am feeling really uneasy. I hadn't thought about it. I assumed I would get a job or something, but at seventeen, two years is FOREVER.
I got hooked. I admit it. Again, I was pretty ignorant of a lot of things. It turned out to be not too terrible of a decision. But one I am not sure I would have made again given the circumstances.
I went to San Diego. The taxi driver that took us from Fort Douglas in Salt Lake City to the airport had hair that looked like fake fur. It was the first time in my life I had been in a taxi. Funny what you remember.
I got to San Diego sometime in the middle of July. There was no one there to take us to the base, so we went over to the USO and they called for a van. I think there were three or four of us from Utah. Pretty nervous van ride...
We were initially held in a administrative area waiting for our "company" to all arrive. Luckily, we got the required number that night. I heard horror stories about guys that were in that admin company for days. It's so scary. I haven't been to hell, but I can imagine that's what it would be like. Not that the rest of boot camp got any easier... But there was at least a semblance of order and some peace in knowing what was going to happen to you. Every day. For nine weeks...
I will spare you the gory details of shipping my old clothes home and getting new ones at two in the morning. And showering with 80 other men you don't know and don't want to know. And not having doors on the bathroom stalls that face each other. And standing in line to eat while being yelled at to get closer in line so that you can count the hairs on the guy in front of you's neck while feeling the breath of the guy behind you. And crying yourself to sleep feeling alone and scared. And trying to fit in but not being able to because you don't cuss or talk about women or drugs or street gangs or fast cars... And missing my family and girlfriend and truck and friends and being able to sleep in past 3:30 AM (Sundays were a treat because we could sleep in until 5 AM)... And having to stay awake through Naval History classes and knot tying and survival at sea and who knows what else while having had four hours of sleep.
In spite of it all, I felt myself growing and changing. I knew that the Lord was with me. For example, our barracks were shaped like a large letter E. The three lines of the E were the places where you slept (racks) which were large, open-bay type rooms that could hold up to 90 people with their beds and lockers and everything. We were told when we first entered this room that we should find a rack and throw our stuff on it but we'd probably be moving around anyway. I put my stuff on a bed close to the window, not really thinking about where it was, but wanting to be near a window.
I had been given a small copy of the Book of Mormon and other scriptures when I signed up. They are given to all LDS servicemen and women so that they can carry them with them. They are about 1/4 of the size of the regular, and are really very convenient. I had been in the habit of reading the Book of Mormon everyday, as I had been counselled by our then President Ezra Taft Benson. Those of you who remember President Benson will also remember how much he emphasized reading the Book of Mormon every day. I did my best to do so (and still do).
My bed, chosen at random, ended up being in a perfect location for me to read the Book of Mormon. Every night before lights out, I would pull my Book of Mormon our of my "B" drawer (the drawer that we could use to put our personal items - letters, pictures, etc) and slip it under my pillow. Keep in mind, we were not allowed to do anything outside of the regular schedule on pain of calisthenics ad nauseum. So I did this every night but never got caught or turned in (there were people who liked to turn in violators of whatever rule in hopes of getting in better with the Company Commander - the weasels). After getting into bed, I would pull out my Book of Mormon and hold it up over my head while laying on my stomach, feet towards the window. I know that doesn't make sense, but anyway I was able to do it. And perfectly located right outside my window was a light that allowed me to read every night. I am not 100% sure, but I think this was the only rack in the place that was so positioned. The others around me tried once or twice to read letters or the Bible or whatever, but they were unable to do so. They also were moved around. Everyone around me moved. Except me. I kept that same rack all nine weeks of boot camp. This all may be a coincidence, but I know better. I know that the Lord wanted me to have that strength and peace that came from the scriptures. I also know that the Lord blessed me for my desires to keep His commandments.
And I think of the words of the prophet Nephi - I will go and do the things the Lord commands for I know that the Lord giveth no commandment unto the children of men, save He shall prepare away that they may accomplish the thing which He commanded.
It was true for me then. It is true for me now.
From the moment I was born I have been watched over and guided in ever so slight ways to become what I am now. I know that I am not what I should be, but actually this encourages me. The anticipation of further growth is infinitely appealing. I have never felt more close to God than when I am struggling and learning.
I went to boot camp. Weird, huh? I know that surprises many of you who know me. It was an interesting time in my life. I was seventeen years old, looking forward to graduation from high school. I had led an exceedingly sheltered life, and was blessed in many ways but also very ignorant in more ways. I had a lot to learn, but didn't know it. The recruiter called me up and asked what my plans were for after high school.
Probably college, I said.
How are you going to pay for that? he asks.
I don't know. Grants, scholarships, whatever, I said.
What about a mission. Are you planning to go on a mission? he asks.
Yep, I say.
How are you going to pay for that? he asks.
I don't know, I say. I am feeling really uneasy. I hadn't thought about it. I assumed I would get a job or something, but at seventeen, two years is FOREVER.
I got hooked. I admit it. Again, I was pretty ignorant of a lot of things. It turned out to be not too terrible of a decision. But one I am not sure I would have made again given the circumstances.
I went to San Diego. The taxi driver that took us from Fort Douglas in Salt Lake City to the airport had hair that looked like fake fur. It was the first time in my life I had been in a taxi. Funny what you remember.
I got to San Diego sometime in the middle of July. There was no one there to take us to the base, so we went over to the USO and they called for a van. I think there were three or four of us from Utah. Pretty nervous van ride...
We were initially held in a administrative area waiting for our "company" to all arrive. Luckily, we got the required number that night. I heard horror stories about guys that were in that admin company for days. It's so scary. I haven't been to hell, but I can imagine that's what it would be like. Not that the rest of boot camp got any easier... But there was at least a semblance of order and some peace in knowing what was going to happen to you. Every day. For nine weeks...
I will spare you the gory details of shipping my old clothes home and getting new ones at two in the morning. And showering with 80 other men you don't know and don't want to know. And not having doors on the bathroom stalls that face each other. And standing in line to eat while being yelled at to get closer in line so that you can count the hairs on the guy in front of you's neck while feeling the breath of the guy behind you. And crying yourself to sleep feeling alone and scared. And trying to fit in but not being able to because you don't cuss or talk about women or drugs or street gangs or fast cars... And missing my family and girlfriend and truck and friends and being able to sleep in past 3:30 AM (Sundays were a treat because we could sleep in until 5 AM)... And having to stay awake through Naval History classes and knot tying and survival at sea and who knows what else while having had four hours of sleep.
In spite of it all, I felt myself growing and changing. I knew that the Lord was with me. For example, our barracks were shaped like a large letter E. The three lines of the E were the places where you slept (racks) which were large, open-bay type rooms that could hold up to 90 people with their beds and lockers and everything. We were told when we first entered this room that we should find a rack and throw our stuff on it but we'd probably be moving around anyway. I put my stuff on a bed close to the window, not really thinking about where it was, but wanting to be near a window.
I had been given a small copy of the Book of Mormon and other scriptures when I signed up. They are given to all LDS servicemen and women so that they can carry them with them. They are about 1/4 of the size of the regular, and are really very convenient. I had been in the habit of reading the Book of Mormon everyday, as I had been counselled by our then President Ezra Taft Benson. Those of you who remember President Benson will also remember how much he emphasized reading the Book of Mormon every day. I did my best to do so (and still do).
My bed, chosen at random, ended up being in a perfect location for me to read the Book of Mormon. Every night before lights out, I would pull my Book of Mormon our of my "B" drawer (the drawer that we could use to put our personal items - letters, pictures, etc) and slip it under my pillow. Keep in mind, we were not allowed to do anything outside of the regular schedule on pain of calisthenics ad nauseum. So I did this every night but never got caught or turned in (there were people who liked to turn in violators of whatever rule in hopes of getting in better with the Company Commander - the weasels). After getting into bed, I would pull out my Book of Mormon and hold it up over my head while laying on my stomach, feet towards the window. I know that doesn't make sense, but anyway I was able to do it. And perfectly located right outside my window was a light that allowed me to read every night. I am not 100% sure, but I think this was the only rack in the place that was so positioned. The others around me tried once or twice to read letters or the Bible or whatever, but they were unable to do so. They also were moved around. Everyone around me moved. Except me. I kept that same rack all nine weeks of boot camp. This all may be a coincidence, but I know better. I know that the Lord wanted me to have that strength and peace that came from the scriptures. I also know that the Lord blessed me for my desires to keep His commandments.
And I think of the words of the prophet Nephi - I will go and do the things the Lord commands for I know that the Lord giveth no commandment unto the children of men, save He shall prepare away that they may accomplish the thing which He commanded.
It was true for me then. It is true for me now.
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