SPIRITUAL LONGINGS

This all began in 1957 when I was born into a loving Mormon family in Salt Lake City, Utah. I was the third of four children, having two older sisters and a younger brother. My fond memories of those early days consist of playing with my best friend, Clay, as well as other friends in our suburban neighborhood. I had a joyous childhood. The day was never long enough, as we played endless games and engaged in whatever activities our young imaginations could summon. Some days it was just Clay and I; other times it would include several of the neighbor boys. We didn't watch much TV in those days but spent all the time we could outdoors, regardless of the season. We were always disappointed when our mothers called us in for the evening, ending our adventures when there was so much fun still to be had. In other words, we were regular boys.

My spiritual path really began in those early days as well. I remember that we had a thin hardbound book in our home narrated by the prophet Nephi, one of the main characters in the Book of Mormon. It must have been a children's version, because I remember reading it while I was still very young. There were no pictures, just text. The book was basically a simplified account of the early chapters in the Book of Mormon. I remember reading these stories and feeling great stirrings in my soul. I loved the prophet Nephi; I wanted to be just like him. This was more than just a passing phase. I thought about spiritual things continually. This was a burning desire deep within me.

As far back as I can remember, I had this longing inside. I would not have been able to articulate it back then, but looking back, I would describe it as wanting to know God. More accurately, I wanted to experience God. I wanted to have the experiences Nephi had. I wanted to be as good as him, as worthy as him. This, to me, was the ultimate experience of existence. To arrive at this state of spiritual accomplishment was definitely the goal. My soul thrilled at the thought of God speaking to me as he spoke to Nephi and other early prophets. I wanted to be that righteous.

Over the years, this desire would occasionally change form in some manner, but it would never leave me. It was a yearning that never seemed to be fulfilled. Sometimes it almost felt like a curse. It was always with me. Since I grew up LDS, the only way I knew to address this longing was through devotion to the teachings of the church. This was not so much an outward display as it was an inner feeling. I wanted to be obedient. I never really felt like I was measuring up, but this did not dampen my devotion in any way. I was determined and hopeful to have tangible spiritual experiences like the prophets of old. This was my greatest desire. I believed it was just a matter of worthiness.

When I was ten years old, my parents decided to leave Salt Lake City and move to a more rural area. A friend had told them about a small farm for sale. My father was familiar with the area because he had traveled through there as a boy. He had commented, as a young man, that he would love to live in this area some day. They bought the 72-acre farm for $300 an acre in 1967.

For me, the move was both exciting and sad. It was difficult to leave my wonderful friends in our little suburb of Salt Lake City. They were the only friends I had ever known, and Clay was my best friend; we were like brothers. Not having a choice, I reluctantly left, hoping that this new adventure would somehow replace the life I had come to know and love in our wonderful little neighborhood.

The move had its challenges, but it proved to be a vital part of my journey. Soon after we moved, I met a family who would have a profound influence on my life's path. I made friends with two brothers who lived a short distance from our farm. I'll call them Rob and Joel. Rob was a year older than I and Joel was a year younger. The three of us spent many happy hours together. We especially had fun each summer, camping in the nearby mountains and just goofing off like boys do. They became my dearest friends during a time when I was growing through many inner yearnings.

I spent many hours in Rob and Joel's home, becoming like another son to their parents. Theirs was a home of true religious devotion to the gospel. This resonated deeply with me. I especially loved being in their home on Sundays when they spoke often of spiritual teachings and experiences. Their father was particularly influential in providing many spiritual insights for me to consider. My favorite story, however, was the following account that I heard Rob and Joel's mother tell many times about her father William, who was still living at the time, and whom I had met on several occasions.

William had been converted to the Mormon Church in the early 1900s. He joined the church shortly after serving in World War I. The profound effect William had on my life came in the form of an experience he'd had as a missionary. Shortly after William had joined the church, he decided to serve a mission, which consists of going out and teaching the gospel message to others. In fact, he served two missions. While on one of these missions he was preaching with his companion in a particular town where they were not being very well received. They were told by some very angry people to get out of town and never come back. William, who—as his daughter put it—had no fear of man, was there the very next week, preaching to those same people. He was committed to sharing his message of truth. At some point in the sermon, William relates that someone in the congregation gave some sort of signal to the others, and they all stood up and began to move toward him. He could see that they had clubs and chains in order to inflict bodily harm.

What happened next was the epitome of what, in my mind, religion or spirituality was all about. In the moment when William's life was in peril, he was saved from the mob by an actual heavenly being. As this being entered the back of the...