Elder Bednar compares our everyday happenings and habits to
a painted landscape full of individual brushstrokes that when looked at close
up may not have any special pattern or relation. However, when you look at the landscape from
a distance, those individual brushstrokes transform into a wonderful, ordered
masterpiece. This describes my journey
to Nauvoo—a combination of individual brushstrokes or experiences that, when
looked at together, show the Lord’s picture for me in Nauvoo.
Beijing streets are synonyms of claustrophobia. The sheer masses of people can be
overwhelming and will eventually cause anyone not accustomed to them to quip at
minor agitations. I had just come from
Provo where my job, calling, and life were surrounded with opportunities to
serve others. My work in China was
fantastic—a chance of a lifetime—but I was left with no occasions to assist the
people I came to meet, the Chinese.
While temporally, I was on Cloud 9, I was feeling somewhat spiritually
frustrated. Over a few days of thought,
I was inspired with the remembrance of what I learned on my first proselyting mission,
the best way to love a group of people is to serve them. But how would it happen? I didn’t have a calling, my work was from
morning til evening, and I was a stranger to them. Aware of my situation, I realized all I could
do was to ask God to serve them—and for me to be a tool in His hands daily for the Chinese
(Mosiah 8:18). How can God refuse such a
request? My daily prayer was answered
and I was given small chances every day to help those I met feel the love of their
Heavenly Father, despite being legally barred from sharing anything about my
religion. Helping in airports, chatting
with a cashier who was visibly unhappy, or simply saying “sorry”—whatever it was, I promised the Lord to do it.
I
didn’t realize how these acts of kindness had blessed me until one day when my
Chinese boss came to my cubicle and told me to pack my bags for a business trip
to the Northeast. He mentioned something
about a bank and family history—his Beijing accent was awfully strong. The flight was pleasant but I could tell
something was up when I got in the car with a government official and heard the
words, “Oh, so you’re a Mormon?” This
would come up multiple times in the trip. (Apparently the Chinese do background
checks!) As we pulled up to a huge
museum shaped building, I asked my boss Martin one more time why exactly I was
here. He replied, “Oh, my family history
record is stored here in the archives, and recently I’ve felt that I need to
get it published, I thought you may find it interesting.” The light bulb hadn’t lit up yet. We were greeted and guided down long hallways
by men in lab coats—it seemed like some kind of Sci-Fi movie. Finally, we entered a room with a metal table
which had a large rectangular object covered in felt lying on top. The lab technicians uncovered it, and before
me was a large yellow silk book. My boss
looked at me and said, “You are probably the first Westerner to ever see
this…this is the family history record of the Qing Royal Family. They are my ancestors and I’m one of the few
that have access to it—I don’t know why, I just feel these records need to be
published.” At this point, I still
didn’t understand what my role in all of this was. Then my boss said in a confident voice,
“Westin is going to help us find a publisher.”
I could tell the men around me were skeptical as to how a 22 year old
American could help publish their national treasure. My mind went blank. I said a little prayer, in fear that I may not
be able to produce what they needed.
After all, I was just an intern from the advisory office, I knew nothing
of publishing! Then it dawned on me. What organization in this world has the
specialized tools for scanning ancient records? The Church of Jesus Christ of
Latter-day Saints. With divine help
along the way, the Chinese government was connected with Family Search. They are currently negotiating a way to scan
all 9,000 pages of the royal family history and the Lord allowed me to be part
of it! My simple prayer to be His tool
yielded the chance for me to participate in the salvation of possibly
thousands. Can you think of all those
names being prepared for salvation?
Somehow I, an American Mormon 22 year old, ended up in Martin’s
office—somehow he picked me to go on this business trip with him—how in the
world did this happen? As I pondered
this fact, I thought of the many thousands of Martin’s ancestors that are on
the other side of the veil leading him and others to the right place at the
right time to complete their temple work.
However, this was only one of the blessings. I could feel a new desire, a new interest
stewing inside my fibers. Deep in
thought, I started to wonder what role we can play in their salvation. Brushstroke #1.
I was
in China with the expectation that I’d be working in Washington DC that fall
semester. A full-time internship had
been offered to me and I was prepared to accept. As I was preparing to leave Beijing, there
was no way to deny the answer I had felt—I needed to be at BYU in the
fall. One can imagine the slightly
rebellious attitude I had toward the answer to give up a fantastic job
opportunity. However, I knew that the
Lord had a reason for me to be in Provo and I obeyed with faith. Brushstroke #2.
About a
month into the semester, my heart continued to contemplate what tool I could be
in the salvation of my ancestors. God
says He will give to men liberally, and that is just what He did. Within a short period of time, four former
YPMs came into my life. At the time, I
didn’t know that they were YPMs or what that even meant. They told me of the fantastic growth that
came from their missions, yet I considered them simply as nice
experiences. Nauvoo first caught my
attention in Men’s Chorus when Nathaniel Gardner put up an advertisement for
auditions. I glanced at it and thought,
“Hmm, probably not for me.” A week
later, I saw the advertisement again.
Without any real plans to try out, I inquired of Nathaniel. A small something pricked my heart and I felt
I needed to try. Brushstroke #3.
Meanwhile,
as the Lord promises, He continued to place His helpers to “turn [my] heart to
[my] fathers.” I met Marie (name
changed) in October and we hit it off immediately. As we came to know each other better, she
encouraged me to pay attention to my forebears.
She seemed so aware of their reality and love for the Lord. Through her, I began to develop deep gratitude
for their sacrifices in this life, their astounding faith, and relevance today. Brushstroke #4.
It was
a week before Nauvoo audition tapes were due and I was feeling a bit apathetic
toward to the project. The phone rang
and my friend in Washington DC needed a partner to drive cross-country that
next week. With excitement, I agreed to
fly out that Monday. We planned our
drive across the vast United States—something every American hopes to
experience. Nauvoo popped into my mind,
and we determined it was a must see.
After we decided, I smirked and thought to myself, “This ought to be a
good trial run to see how the great city of Nauvoo and Westin get along.”
Indianapolis was a bit chilly that morning as I called my
Grandma from the car to inquire about possible family connections I had to
Nauvoo. “Why yes, my son, Jeremiah and
Sarah Leavitt were your great-great-great-great-grandparents. They lived there and received their temple
ordinances in the Nauvoo temple before escaping west. You must go find their information.” My interest was suddenly piqued. Brushstroke #5.
We arrived
in the afternoon. It was November, cold,
foggy, and almost no one else was there.
The senior missionaries were grateful to have visitors and treated us
with love. As we walked around, the fog
and tranquility seemed to create an even more sacred surrounding—the Spirit was
there. The sites were closing and we had
time to see one more area. My friend and
I started down the Trail of Hope (the path that the saints took to the
Mississippi River while being expelled from Nauvoo). We soon separated and I found myself
enveloped in the reverence of the situation.
“How hard it must have been to have left such security—and with only the
things they could carry or pack,” I repeated to myself. I walked plaque by plaque reading the solemn
yet hopeful testimonies of those early brothers and sisters. In a grove of trees I came to one plaque that
read, “Sarah Leavitt”. I stopped very
suddenly. Gazing around, I realized that
this was the testimony of my progenitor.
As I read through her testimony, the tune to the hymn, “Come Let Us
Anew” came to my mind. Her plaque read:
“As Sarah Leavitt and her daughters tried to comfort her
sick husband, he began to sing, ‘Come, let us anew, our journey pursue…’ He
sang the hymn as long as he had strength to sing it and then wanted Elisa (one
of his daughters) to sing it. He died without a struggle or a groan.” Sarah
Leavitt
I
closed my eyes in silent prayer. What
would I pray for?—Gratitude for righteous ancestors who endured so much for
me. I paused, and then asked Heavenly
Father to let me know of their goodness.
There was no doubt in my mind, at that moment, they were with me. I couldn’t see them, but I could feel them. I could feel their testimonies—I could feel
of their awareness of me—I could feel their love for the work! I could feel that they had a special task for
me! Brushstroke #6.
As of
today, we have 61 days until we leave for Nauvoo. I would suspect that our Heavenly Father is
painting a Nauvoo landscape for us all.
Although I’ve been able to capture a peak of mine, I know that many
brushstrokes remain. We have this time
to prepare and understand what His task for us is in Nauvoo. What started as a simple prayer to serve in
China has led me here. He lives, and He
has chosen us.
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