When I was young girl, I spent several summers with my dad working on my uncle’s
ranch in Wyoming. My uncle had hundreds of cows, and the cows needed to be fed
twice a day, once in the wee hours of the morning and then again just before supper.
I did small jobs: fetching things, opening and closing gates, feeding the calves, or
milking the single milk cow. When it was time to feed the large herds, I would sit in
the cab of the truck while my uncle attached a large trailer to the back of the truck.
This part of the work always required two men, one to pitch hay off the back while
another drove the truck across the fields.
I’ll never forget the summer when I was 11 years old. After lining up the truck and
trailer, my uncle asked me if I thought I could drive the big truck across the fields so
TWO men could be pitching hay to the cows from the trailer. Oh, I was eager to try! I
didn’t hesitate to jump into the driver’s seat or settle in and it was then that I realized
I was still so small I could not reach the pedals AND see out the front window at the
same time.
Not getting deflated, I wondered how was this going to work? How was I going to be
able to help my dad get the work done? I’d watched him do this hundreds of times, I
was sure that I could do it. As my dad came around to the driver’s side of the truck,
he said he had a solution.
The men needed a driver, I had a foot that could engage the gas pedal and move the
truck across the fields. Because I couldn’t see beyond the steering wheel, the men
on the back of the truck would call out if I was driving in the wrong direction and
needed to turn left or right. I looked across the fields, there was nothing in my way. I
thought this was a fine solution.
Before my dad buckled me in, he reminded me that there were two long irrigation
ditches running the length of the field, I only had to stay between those two ditches
and we wouldn’t be in any danger.
As I began to drive, I was thrilled to think I was being useful. My pride swelled as I
couldn’t wait to tell my sisters that I had learned to “drive” the big truck out on the
ranch. Feeling pretty proud of myself, I was surprised when I heard my dad call from
the back of the truck, “Amy! Turn right!”
I was a little unsure, I had hardly touched the steering wheel and had driven in a
straight line, I was sure that I hadn’t turned and that I was still headed in the right
direction right down the middle of that field.
But I turned, and we continued. After a few more minutes, I heard my dad call out
again, “Amy, turn left. Turn left!” Surprised again, I quickly realigned the wheel and
as far as I could tell looking out the side window, we were running parallel to the
ditch again. And yet, for the next two hours as I drove through the fields we
continued to zig zag back and forth between two parallel ditches while my father
called from the back of the truck whenever I needed a course correction.
I’ve thought a lot about this experience, I want to share 3 lessons that I learned from
that summer.
1- I had no doubt that my father, calling from the back of the truck, wanted me to
succeed. He needed to get the work done, but he also wanted to see me learn,
grow, and take on new responsibilities. The Lord is the same. As D. Todd
Christofferson taught, “God’s ultimate purpose is our progress.”
We need to have
faith in the Lord and in His servants.
2- As a child, I didn’t have the good sense to hesitate. I felt only eagerness when
given the opportunity to serve. Alternatively, sometimes we might feel hesitant or
discouraged, thinking we are not able or qualified to do the Lord’s work, but take
courage, “whom the Lord calls, the Lord qualifies!” (emphasis added, quoted from
Thomas S. Monson)
Indeed, the Lord declared, “out of small things proceedeth that which is great…
Behold, the Lord requireth the heart and a willing mind; …” (D&C 64: 33-34)
I learned to be eager and to engage in the work.
3-
Take correction and repent quickly.
An irrigation ditch is not easy to see when standing in the field, as a ditch usually lies
beneath ground level. They are best seen from a higher vantage point. As my father
and uncle stood in the back of the truck, they had a view I did not, they knew the
fields well and were aware of potential danger. They constantly called out to me to
turn back to the center of the field.
It is the same with our church leaders. Like my father calling from the back of the
truck, the Lord has provided prophets and apostles who stand as watchmen who are
allowed to see things from a more “heavenly perspective”. We sustain them as
prophets, seers and revelators.
In the Book of Mormon, Ammon taught Limhi: “A seer can know of things which are
past, and also of things which are to come, and by them shall all things be revealed,
or, rather, shall secret things be made manifest, and hidden things shall come to
light, and things which are not known shall be made known by them, and also things
shall be made known by them which otherwise could not be known.” (Mosiah 8:17)
These men of God, can see things we cannot see, “they have a responsibility to look
out and warn us of pitfalls, danger” and even irrigation ditches (so to speak)
“regardless of public opinion or trends in society.” (Ensign 2016)
We would be wise, to heed their counsel, act on their invitations, and repent
quickly when we are called to turn back towards Christ.
When the job was done, I sat there, both in awe and gratitude. I had listened
carefully to the warnings from my dad and had no reason to doubt his intentions. I do
not doubt the instructions I receive from the Lord or His servants either. I know that
they serve us as watchmen, diligently serving because of their love for the Lord.
Christ is our Savior and Redeemer, he reminds us that “whether by mine own voice
or by the voice of my servants, it is the same.” (D&C 1:38) I have a testimony that
President Russel M. Nelson is the Lord’s prophet. His watchful care is already
preparing us to withstand chaos and turmoil. His counsel and invitations, when
heeded, will keep us on the covenant path.
In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen
