One thing I have to say about this talk right off is that it
represents a wonderful effort by our prophet to make his experience with the loss
of his wife into something that can benefit others. I, for one, honor him for this. It can’t be easy to speak to the whole church, even the
whole world, about a loss still so new.
His talk is in green, my thoughts are in black.
In my journal tonight, I shall write, “This has
been one of the most inspiring sessions of any general conference I’ve
attended. Everything has been of the greatest and most spiritual nature.”
Brothers and sisters, six months ago as we met
together in our general conference, my sweet wife, Frances, lay in the
hospital, having suffered a devastating fall just a few days earlier. In May,
after weeks of valiantly struggling to overcome her injuries, she slipped into
eternity. Her loss has been profound. She and I were married in the Salt Lake
Temple on October 7, 1948. Tomorrow would have been our 65th wedding
anniversary. She was the love of my life, my trusted confidant, and my closest
friend. To say that I miss her does not begin to convey the depth of my
feelings.
This conference marks 50 years since I was
called to the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles by President David O. McKay.
Through all these years I have felt nothing but the full and complete support
of my sweet companion.
He’s without that support now. This must be very hard for him.
Countless are the sacrifices she made so that I
could fulfill my calling. Never did I hear a word of complaint from her as I
was often required to spend days and sometimes weeks away from her and from our
children.
Her death means an extended separation now.
She was an angel, indeed.
I wish to express my thanks, as well as those of
my family,
for the tremendous outpouring of love which has come to us since Frances’s
passing. Hundreds of cards and letters were sent from around the world
expressing admiration for her and condolences to our family. We received dozens
of beautiful floral arrangements. We are grateful for the numerous
contributions which have been offered in her name to the General Missionary
Fund of the Church. On behalf of those of us whom she left behind, I express
deep gratitude
for your kind and heartfelt expressions.
Of utmost comfort to me during this tender time
of parting have been my testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ
and the knowledge I have that my dear Frances lives still.
“tender time of
parting” may evoke a sense of “sentimental” and “cute” when we hear it, I
suspect “tender” probably should be understood in the sense of a wound that is
still throbbing.
Do we know how much comfort the gospel and testimony of life
beyond death can be to us before we lose a loved one?
I know that our separation is temporary. We were
sealed in the house of God by one having authority to bind on earth and in
heaven. I know that we will be reunited one day and will never again be
separated. This is the knowledge that sustains me.
Brothers and sisters, it may be safely assumed
that no person has ever lived entirely free of suffering and sorrow, nor has
there ever been a period in human history that did not have its full share of
turmoil and misery.
President Monson can certainly testify that it is true that
no one ever lived free of suffering and sorrow. His meditations on his experience are particularly valuable
to us. We might ask ourselves, how
does President Monson deal with the inevitable internal questioning that comes? Or is he immune to it?
When the pathway of life takes a cruel turn,
there is the temptation to ask the question “Why me?” At times there appears to
be no light at the end of the tunnel, no sunrise to end the night’s darkness.
We feel encompassed by the disappointment of shattered dreams and the despair
of vanished hopes. We join in uttering the biblical plea, “Is there no balm in
Gilead?”1 We feel abandoned, heartbroken, alone.
We are inclined to view our own personal misfortunes through the distorted
prism of pessimism. We become impatient for a solution to our problems,
forgetting that frequently the heavenly virtue of patience is required.
I suspect that President Monson wasn’t just speaking
abstractly about what happens to most people here. I think he shares some of what he went through.
(I particularly identify with “encompassed by the
disappointment of shattered dreams and the despair of vanished hopes.” It takes time for new dreams and hopes
to sprout, and the time before that happens feels terribly barren and
directionless.)
Impatience for a solution is perfectly understandable. Disappointments, shattered dreams,
heartbreak, misfortune, and problems confront us with sudden needs deep in our
souls. It takes time for us to
understand the nature of those needs beyond the instinctual “make the hurt
stop” before we can begin to find solutions. It is those times that our coping skills are tested.
The difficulties which come to us present us
with the real test of our ability to endure.
I’m reminded of Job here. I think most of us can deal with initial shocks fairly
well. It is the living day by day
with the consequences and results that begins to wear us down. That’s where our endurance and faith is
stretched.
A fundamental question remains to be answered by
each of us:
Shall I falter, or shall I finish?
I think this sentence is incredibly profound. That question “Shall I falter, or shall
I finish?” is at the root of every struggle we have in affliction because we
have to make a choice whether to continue faithful or not.
- “Why me?” asks whether we will falter when it appears we
don’t deserve what happened to us.
- “Is there no balm in Gilead?” asks whether we will falter
when it appears that we can’t find anything to make the hurt go away.
- Feeling there is no light at the end of the tunnel asks
whether we will falter when it appears that things won’t get better from here.
- Finding our dreams shattered and our hopes vanished and
saying “What now?” asks whether we will falter when we don’t get something we really wanted.
Maybe what we can learn from this is to sidetrack all those
painful questions in our afflictions and simply go to the root question, “Shall
I falter, or shall I finish?” It
may help us see our situation more clearly, from an eternal perspective.
Some do falter as they find themselves unable to
rise above their challenges. To finish involves enduring to the very end of
life itself.
What does it mean “to rise above one’s challenges”? What stories do you think of? Some people can persevere and overcome
their obstacles by destroying them with sheer grit, like the man who works
until he can finally walk again, in spite of his doctor’s opinion that he never
would. Others accept their
challenges and work around them, developing into genius the other gifts that
have been left to them.
As we ponder the events that can befall all of
us, we can say with Job of old, “Man is born unto trouble.”2 Job was a “perfect and upright” man who
“feared God, and eschewed evil.”3 Pious in his conduct, prosperous in his
fortune, Job was to face a test which could have destroyed anyone. Shorn of his
possessions, scorned by his friends, afflicted by his suffering, shattered by
the loss of his family, he was urged to “curse God, and die.”4 He resisted this temptation and declared
from the depths of his noble soul:
“Behold, my witness is in heaven, and my record is
on high.”5
“I know that my redeemer liveth.”6
President Monson turned to Job’s story for perspective. It is likely that President Monson
decided Job suffered more than he and used that to remember what blessings he
still enjoyed. If you read Job,
you see that Job was very open about what he felt and thought during his
afflictions. He didn’t curse God,
but he freely cursed his own birthday.
The lines of Job that President Monson quotes are
instructive. “Behold, my witness is in heaven, and my record is on high” is
from Job 16:19 and in context says, “God sees me and knows all I do as I
suffer, and my record is clean.”
The line “I know that my redeemer liveth” from Job 19:25
reminds us that Christ redeems us from sin and will also save our bodies from
physical death and limitations, not to mention our loved ones. Affliction is a useful reminder of our
need to be redeemed.
Job kept the faith. Will we do likewise as we
face those challenges which will be ours?
Whenever we are inclined to feel burdened down
with the blows of life, let us remember that others have passed the same way,
have endured, and then have overcome.
The history of the Church in this, the
dispensation of the fulness of times, is replete with the experiences of those
who have struggled and yet who have remained steadfast and of good cheer. The
reason? They have made the gospel of Jesus Christ the center of their lives.
This is what will pull us through whatever comes our way. We will still
experience difficult challenges, but we will be able to face them, to meet them
head-on, and to emerge victorious.
Remembering that other people have experienced the same
afflictions is very helpful.
Reading their stories is validating and brings a new depth of
understanding, both of their pain and their strength. It gives hope that we can make it through too. I love the verbs President Monson uses:
passed,
endured,
overcome;
struggled,
remained steadfast,
good cheer;
face them,
meet them head-on,
emerge victorious
One thing I learned from the movie 17 Miracles is that when we reach our limits, God sends tender
mercies to encourage us, to remind us He sees and cares, and He will help us
just enough to renew our strength.
There’s another bit of counsel—make the gospel of Jesus
Christ the center of your life. It
pulls us through, usually as we cling to the covenants we have made and try to
fulfill our side of the terms. It
gives us healthy ways of coping and pushes us toward the change that will make
us stronger.
From the bed of pain, from the pillow wet with
tears, we are lifted heavenward by that divine assurance and precious promise:
“I will not fail thee, nor forsake thee.”7 Such comfort is priceless.
Do we see the evidences that God has not forsaken us in our
trials? Perhaps we need to keep
our eyes open every day for those blessings and tender mercies.
As I have traveled far and wide throughout the
world fulfilling the responsibilities of my calling, I have come to know many
things—not the least of which is that sadness and suffering are universal. I
cannot begin to measure all of the heartache and sorrow I have witnessed as I have
visited with those who are dealing with grief, experiencing illness, facing
divorce, struggling with a wayward son or daughter, or suffering the
consequences of sin.
I suppose with such a wide experience of that heartache and
sorrow, President Monson also has a better sense of the scope of the Atonement
that covered all of that.
The list could go on and on, for there are
countless problems which can befall us.
I’m a bit of a worry-wart; I can tie myself in knots
thinking about what could happen to me.
But for some reason, when I read the above sentence, I find myself
deciding to let go of my worries.
Weird, huh? Maybe it makes
me realize that it doesn’t do me good to worry. Maybe I need to be more realistic about my risk-assessment.
To single out one example is difficult, and yet
whenever I think of challenges, my thoughts turn to Brother Brems, one of my
boyhood Sunday School teachers.
Considering the challenges of others or helping them bear
their burdens can give us a little vacation from our own. It’s a peculiar kind of vacation
though; we mentally or physically bear someone else’s burdens and our load is
temporarily made heavier as we carry our own problems too, but then when our
service ends and we go back to just our own problems, we find they feel
lighter.
He was a faithful member of the Church, a man
with a heart of gold. He and his wife, Sadie, had eight children, many of whom
were the same ages as those in our family.
After Frances and I were married and moved from
the ward, we saw Brother and Sister Brems and members of their family at
weddings and funerals, as well as at ward reunions.
In 1968, Brother Brems lost his wife, Sadie. Two
of his eight children also passed away as the years went by.
One day nearly 13 years ago, Brother Brems’s
oldest granddaughter telephoned me. She explained that her grandfather had
reached his 105th birthday. She said, “He lives in a small care center but
meets with his entire family each Sunday, where he delivers a gospel lesson.”
She continued, “This past Sunday, Grandpa announced to us, ‘My dears, I am
going to die this week. Will you please call Tommy Monson. He will know what to
do.’”
I visited Brother Brems the very next evening. I
had not seen him for a while. I could not speak to him, for he had lost his
hearing. I could not write a message for him to read, because he had lost his
sight. I was told that the family communicated with him by taking the finger of
his right hand and then tracing on the palm of his left hand the name of the
person visiting. Any message had to be conveyed in this same way. I followed
the procedure by taking his finger and spelling T-O-M-M-Y M-O-N-S-O-N, the name
by which he had always known me. Brother Brems became excited and, taking my
hands, placed them on his head. I knew his desire was to receive a priesthood
blessing. The driver who had taken me to the care center joined me as we placed
our hands on the head of Brother Brems and provided the desired blessing.
Afterward, tears streamed from his sightless eyes. He grasped our hands in
gratitude. Although he had not heard the blessing we had given him, the Spirit
was strong, and I believe he was inspired to know we had provided the blessing
which he needed. This sweet man could no longer see. He could no longer hear. He
was confined night and day to a small room in a care center. And yet the smile
on his face and the words he spoke touched my heart. “Thank you,” he said. “My
Heavenly Father has been so good to me.”
Within a week, just as Brother Brems had
predicted, he passed away. Never did he dwell on what he was lacking; rather,
he was always deeply grateful for his many blessings.
As we look at Brother Brems’ situation as described by
President Monson, can we identify how Brother Brems rose above his trials and
afflictions? Does he destroy his
obstacles or work around them? In
what ways does he demonstrate faith that the Lord will not forsake him? What exemplary individuals might he
have thought of who had passed through the same trials?
His afflictions were certainly difficult. He couldn’t see, he couldn’t hear, and
he was confined to a room in a care center at age 105. He was old enough that his children
would be getting pretty feeble themselves.
What would you do
with your time if you were stuck in one place and you couldn’t see or
hear? No watching TV, no internet,
no playing with electronics, no reading, no listening to people… What would you do?
What did Brother Brems do? You get a clue from what his granddaughter says. “[He] meets
with his entire family each Sunday, where he delivers a gospel lesson.” I just bet you that he spent the week
thinking about the scriptures and the gospel, thinking about what lesson he
wanted to teach. He couldn’t use
any references or refresh his memory about scripture stories or access any
teaching materials, so he had to go off of what he had stored up in his head in
the past. Impressive, huh?
What else could he do?
Sing, pray, remember the past..
If you notice, Brother Brems had a small way of working
around his deafness and blindness to receive messages from people. If someone took his right hand and
traced with his finger letters in the palm of his left hand, he could receive
some small message, like the names of someone visiting him. (Just for fun, try this out and see how
good you are at this. It’s a bit
harder than it sounds.)
Brother Brems may have had deaf ears, but he wasn’t deaf to
the Spirit. He knew by its
impressions that he would die within the week. And even if he couldn’t hear the blessing President Monson
gave him, he was inspired and touched by it. I suppose that to feel
became one of Brother Brems’ strengths.
Suppose you were given a blessing but couldn’t hear it. What would you imagine about what was
said?
Brother Brems’ declaration “My Heavenly Father has been so
good to me” shows us he considered every good thing he felt done for him to be
a manifestation of God’s love for him.
No other faces were visible.
It was all God.
“Never did he dwell on what he was lacking; rather, he was
always deeply grateful for his many blessings.” This can sound like a cliché of patient suffering, to the
point that we may get the impression that it is automatic. It’s not. It comes from making many silent choices to look on the
bright side until it becomes a habit.
I wonder if Brother Brems ever thought about the people who
had some of the same afflictions as he.
Helen Keller is a good example… except she wasn’t confined.
How did other people help Brother Brems bear his
afflictions? His family visited
him and they were patient enough to use the communication method of writing in
his hand. They listened to his
lessons. President Monson visited
him when asked for and gave him a blessing.
Our Heavenly Father, who gives us so much to
delight in,
[a very important point to remember in suffering—that
Heavenly Father gives us a lot to delight in]
also knows that we learn and grow and become
stronger as we face and survive the trials through which we must pass. We know
that there are times when we will experience heartbreaking sorrow, when we will
grieve, and when we may be tested to our limits. However, such difficulties
allow us to change for the better, to rebuild our lives in the way our Heavenly
Father teaches us, and to become something different from what we were—better
than we were, more understanding than we were, more empathetic than we were,
with stronger testimonies than we had before.
I like that thought—when we are broken down by trials, it is
also an opportunity to rebuild our lives the way Heavenly Father wants. Our experience gives us more empathy for
others.
This should be our purpose—to persevere and
endure, yes, but also to become more spiritually refined as we make our way
through sunshine and sorrow. Were it not for challenges to overcome and
problems to solve, we would remain much as we are, with little or no progress
toward our goal of eternal life. The poet expressed much the same thought in
these words:
Good timber does not grow with ease,
The stronger wind, the stronger trees.
The further sky, the greater length.
The more the storm, the more the strength.
By sun and cold, by rain and snow,
In trees and men good timbers grow.8
I
like this poem.
Only the Master knows the depths of our trials,
our pain, and our suffering.
Christ’s suffering for us has made Him perfectly acquainted
with us, as well as with the best way to help us.
He alone offers us eternal peace in times of
adversity. He alone touches our tortured souls with His comforting words:
“Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy
laden, and I will give you rest.
“Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I
am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls.
“For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”9
Whether it is the best of times or the worst of
times, He is with us. He has promised that this will never change.
My brothers and sisters, may we have a
commitment to our Heavenly Father that does not ebb and flow with the years or
the crises of our lives. We should not need to experience difficulties for us
to remember Him, and we should not be driven to humility before giving Him our
faith and trust.
Trials can humble us when we need it, but it is better to be
humble already so we know where to turn first. Being repentant and humble halves the spiritual work we need
to do in affliction.
May we ever strive to be close to our Heavenly
Father. To do so, we must pray to Him and listen to Him every day. We truly
need Him every hour, whether they be hours of sunshine or of rain. May His
promise ever be our watchword: “I will not fail thee, nor forsake thee.”10
With all the strength of my soul, I testify that
God lives and loves us, that His Only Begotten Son lived and died for us, and
that the gospel of Jesus Christ is that penetrating light which shines through
the darkness of our lives. May it ever be so, I pray in the sacred name of
Jesus Christ, amen.
What is President Monson’s counsel about how to see our afflictions?
·
Afflictions are the real test of our ability to
endure.
·
Difficulties allow us to change for the better,
rebuild our lives in the way Heavenly Father wants, become more understanding,
become more empathetic, become stronger, root our testimonies deeper.
·
Afflictions help us progress toward the goal of
eternal life.
What is President Monson’s counsel of specific things to do when going through affliction?
·
Don’t ask “Why me?”
·
Be patient about solutions.
·
Ask, “Shall I falter or shall I finish?”
·
Consider (and read) the story of Job. (Implied)
·
Remember others have passed the same way,
endured, and overcame. Search out
those stories.
·
Draw inspiration from stories in the history of
the church.
·
Make the gospel of Jesus Christ the center of
your life.
·
Face the challenges; meet them head-on.
·
Seek priesthood blessings (implied in the story
of Brother Brems).
·
Don’t dwell on what you lack, but be grateful
for your blessings.
·
Remember all the things you delight in that
Heavenly Father gives.
·
Change for the better.
·
Rebuild your life the way Heavenly Father wants.
·
Persevere and endure.
·
Come to Christ when heavy-laden and ask for
rest.
·
Cultivate commitment that does not ebb or flow
with the circumstances of life.
·
Strive to be close to Heavenly Father by praying
and listening to Him every day.
·
Remember God won’t forsake us.
Teaching suggestions
Ask class members to consider a time when they experienced a
deep disappointment, terrible loss, heartbreak, or other affliction. Ask them to write down the
questions they had about why it happened.
How would asking “Shall I falter or shall I finish?” have helped in this
situation?
Perhaps invite someone to share a personal experience with
the class of a time they experienced a hard affliction. How did they pull out of it? How were they changed by it?
Ask the class what is President Monson’s counsel about how
to see our afflictions?
Ask the class what President Monson’s counsel is of specific
things to do when going through
affliction. Ask someone in the
class to share an experience when doing some of those things helped them
persevere through that trial.
