Introduction ⎜ Part 2 ⎜ Part 3 | Part 4 ⎜ Part 5 ⎜ Part 6 | Part 7
See the Introductory blog (#1) for explanation about this series on hearing the voice of the Lord in the mind. The below are accounts shared by those who have experienced this spiritual gift and have thereby been able to bless and enlighten others. Most of these are self-explanatory, but if desired readers wishing further context can (in most cases) go to the original source:
Elder Bruce D. Porter:
In the summer of 1976 I spent two months in the Soviet Union with 150 other American students studying Russian. When the program ended late in July, we were given a week free to travel at our own expense anywhere in Europe before catching a charter flight from Paris back to the United States. I spent that week on a shoestring budget visiting friends and converts in the Düsseldorf Germany Mission, where I had earlier served.
Unfortunately, after booking a second-class train ticket from Düsseldorf to Paris, I realized I was down to the equivalent of only $38 in cash. I had no traveler’s checks or credit cards. As the train sped toward Paris, I began to worry about how I would find a place to spend the night with so little money.
Arriving at the main train station in Paris, I got off the train with my luggage and looked around. I didn’t know anyone in France, and I didn’t speak the language. The sun was just setting, and I knew it would soon be dark. Suddenly I felt very lonely and somewhat anxious. I offered a simple, heartfelt prayer to the Lord: “Heavenly Father, please help me find a safe place to spend the night.”
An impression came to me as plain and clear as any I have ever felt:
Walk two blocks forward and turn left, and there will be a hotel where you can spend the night. With a deep feeling of peace I walked the two blocks forward and turned left. About a hundred feet in front of me was a small sign: Hotel. I knew this was where the Lord had led me to spend the night. Entering the hotel lobby, I stepped forward to the front desk where a man was sitting. “One single room, please,” I said. The man hardly looked up.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “Every room is booked. We have no vacancies.” He proceeded to ignore me.
I asked, “Are you sure that you have no rooms? Perhaps there’s been a change or a cancellation?”
He looked up at me and said firmly, “Young man, we have no rooms. It is the peak of the tourist season, and we have been booked solid for weeks. Every hotel around has been booked for weeks. You will not find a room anywhere in Paris.”
What could I do? I began to leave the hotel, but as I reached the door onto the street, I thought, I can’t just leave. The Lord led me here. I went back to the desk and said, “Sir, could you please at least look in your book and verify for sure that you have no rooms available this evening?”
Somewhat miffed, the clerk stood up, almost slammed his reservation book on the desk, and began flipping the pages quickly. “You see,” he said, “there is nothing. We have no rooms, we have no rooms, we have no . . .”
Suddenly he stopped and stared at the page in puzzlement for a long time. Then he became very businesslike and said, “Well, it appears after all that we do have one single room vacant. That will be $35.”
I do not remember much of that night, only that I felt safe and very blessed. The next morning I learned that the bus to Charles de Gaulle Airport stopped right in front of the hotel. To my great relief the fare was only $3. I arrived at the airport in time to catch my flight to JFK Airport, where, with only a few small coins left in my pocket, I was met by my beloved fiancée, Susan.
Bishop/Elder Vaughn J. Featherstone:
A couple of years ago, in Texas, a young man drove his motorcycle across the Mexican border. He was going up and down the sand dunes. There was a dune with about a twenty-foot drop, and he went sailing off into space. In the accident the top part of the skull was crushed and almost torn from his head, leaving his brain exposed. It was thirteen hours before help came to him. A helicopter took him to a Houston hospital, and the doctors said he could never live. If the accident didn’t kill him, the exposure and infection would.
They notified the family. He had a younger sister, twenty-five, who was married and had a four-year-old son. This little guy loved his Uncle Dennis. He thought the sun came up, went around his Uncle Dennis, went back down, and that was the day. He thought he was terrific. Uncle Dennis had taken time to take him for rides and play with him and do all the things that are done.
When the child heard about the accident, that his Uncle Dennis wasn’t going to live, he said, “Mom, can we have a prayer?” She answered that they were going to their grandmother’s house and the whole family was fasting and going to have a prayer. He said, “I mean, can you and I have a prayer?”
She said, “Well, I guess so. Sure.” They went into the bedroom and she was about to say the prayer when he asked, “Mom, can I say the prayer?” She told him to go ahead. He said this prayer: “Heavenly Father, Uncle Dennis has been in a terrible accident, and no one expects him to live. But he is my favorite uncle, and I love him. Please don’t let him die. Let him live. Okay? In the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.”
Well, his mother was really concerned. It sounded like her brother was going to die, so she tried to prepare her son by saying, “Son, if your Uncle Dennis dies, you have to have faith and understand what that is all about.”
He replied, “Mom, Uncle Dennis is going to live.”
“Well, we hope he does, but if he dies you must not lose faith in prayer or in the Lord.”
“Uncle Dennis is going to live.” She didn’t know what else to say. She went into the kitchen and he followed her in. She was still trying to reason with him when he said, “Mom, do you know that Heavenly Father has a deep, soft, quiet voice?”
She asked, “How do you know that?”
He said, “Because when I said, ‘Heavenly Father, he’s my favorite uncle. Let him live. Okay?’ he said, ‘Okay.’”
Uncle Dennis walked into my office not too long ago. I could see where they had sewn him back together. He had a cane in one hand and walked with a slight limp, but his mind was good, and he is going to the University of Utah. He plays golf and the piano. No one would have known that except for the faith of a young man.
President Ezra Taft Benson biography (pages 9-10):
Louisa Ballif Benson, a woman of great faith, served for many years as president of the Oneida Stake Relief Society, a stake that extended as far north as Baker, Oregon, and south to the Utah line. Her calling demanded that she make frequent visits—by horse and buggy to neighbors and via train for longer trips.
On one occasion as she was returning from Oregon by train and walking down the aisle, she heard a voice say, "Sister Benson, sit down and take hold of the seat." She glanced over her shoulder but saw no one. After walking a few steps further, she heard the voice again. Quickly she sat down and took hold of the seat arms. Almost immediately the train jumped the tracks and wrecked. Many were injured but she was unharmed. She removed her white petticoat, made bandages, and administered relief to the injured. The Union Pacific Railroad awarded her a citation for bravery and compassionate service.
Elder Melvin J. Ballard’s mother Margaret McNeil Ballard:
Elder Melvin J. Ballard was born in 1873. Because his mother, Margaret McNeil Ballard, had lost other children and was in poor health while she carried him, she begged the Lord for his blessing on her unborn son, and promised him to the Lord if he would bless them. After pouring her heart out in prayer, she received an answer: “Be of good cheer. Your life is acceptable, and you will bear a son who will become an apostle of the Lord, Jesus Christ.”[1]
Elder Robert C. Gay talking about Amanda Barnes Smith:
Amanda Barnes Smith; her husband, Warren; and their five children were new converts to the Church when they traveled to Missouri. They joined the Saints at Haun’s Mill just a few days before a mob came and slaughtered many there. Amanda’s husband and 10-year-old son were among those killed. Another of her young sons was gravely injured. Amanda received a powerful revelation on how to save her wounded son. During that time of great distress, she wrote the following:
“In our utter desolation, what could we women do but pray? Prayer was our only source of comfort; our Heavenly Father our only helper. None but he could save and deliver us.
“One day a mobber came from the mill with the captain’s fiat. [Cursing, he bellowed]: ‘The captain says if you women don’t stop your … praying he will send down a posse and kill every … one of you!’
“And he might as well have done it, as to stop us poor women from praying in that hour of our great calamity.
“Our prayers were hushed in terror. We dared not let our voices be heard in the house in supplication. I could pray in bed or in silence, but I could not live thus long. The godless silence was more intolerable than had been that night of the massacre.
“I could bear it no longer. I pined to hear once more my own voice in petition to my Heavenly Father.
“I stole down into a corn-field and crawled into a [stack] of corn. It was as the temple of the Lord to me at that moment. I prayed aloud and most fervently.
“When I emerged from the corn a voice spoke to me. It was a voice as plain as I have ever heard one. It was no silent, strong impression of the spirit, but a voice, repeating a verse of [our] hymn:
That soul who on Jesus hath leaned for repose,
I cannot, I will not desert to its foes;
That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake,
I’ll never, no never, no never forsake!
“From that moment I had no more fear. I felt that nothing could hurt me.”
Elder Neal L. Andersen:
I would like to conclude with an experience we had in March 2000. Sister Andersen and I were invited to attend the temple dedication in Albuquerque, New Mexico. I knew that I would be asked to speak and that my remarks should be brief.
We entered the celestial room dressed in white. President Hinckley sat in the middle chair with a member of the Twelve on his right and with me on his left. As we reverently awaited the first session, I felt a distinct and specific impression that I should adjust the remarks I had prepared. The impression came: “Speak of the keys. Speak of the keys.”
I quickly turned to the scriptures to locate the passages that explain the keys of the priesthood being returned to the earth. Then—and I can remember it as if it were yesterday—a powerful spiritual feeling came into my mind and heart. The feeling that burned within me was this: “He who sits next to you holds all the priesthood keys upon the earth. He who sits next to you holds all the priesthood keys upon the earth.”
I took a deep breath. I looked over at President Hinckley. I could not deny the powerful manifestation of the Spirit.
Bishop/Elder Orson F. Whitney:
This poem [Elias, An Epic of the Ages] was begun in the spring of 1900, not long after the death of my wife Zina, and while I was prostrate upon a bed of pain [grief]. The inspiration was timely. I needed something of the kind to occupy my thoughts and dispel my gloomy feelings. While pondering upon the situation, and wondering whether my life’s work was drawing to a close, I heard or seemed to hear a Voice—inaudible to the outward ear, yet plain to the inward understanding—the same Voice that had spoken to me on former occasions in hours of distress or deep anxiety. It now said:
“Do you really wish to go?”
“No,” I replied; “I must not go until I have finished my work.”
“What would you like to do?”
“Something that would live when I am dead, and go on teaching the Truth after my mortal tongue is still.”
“And what might that be?”
I reflected, and my thoughts took this form: I would like to write a poem embodying all that I have learned, thought or felt respecting the divine plan known as “The Everlasting Gospel.” I would love to tell in heroic verse the sublime Story of God. “Mormonism,” historically, doctrinally, prophetically—be that my theme, my task, with whatsoever else the Lord has for me to do.
No sooner had I come to this conclusion, than the first lines of the poem formed in my mind, and weak as I was I sat up and wrote them down. Thus the work began.
It took years to complete it, for I could not, of course, give all my time to poetry. I was still a Ward Bishop and an Assistant Church Historian. But I worked upon the great theme whenever I could, and found much delight in so doing. It burned like fire in my brain, and I felt that I must get it out or it would consume me. Day after day—sometimes twelve hours or more at a stretch—month after month, and year after year, I toiled on in the intervals of office work and outside engagements, till the poem, if not finished, was ready for a trial reading. This was toward the close of 1902.
Mission President Oscar W. McConkie Sr.:
My son James was near death in Minneapolis. I flew there to be with him and spent many days in fasting and prayer in his behalf. His wife and many people did likewise. Apostle Henry D. Moyle said that his spirit was in the spirit world for three hours, and President McKay, President J. Reuben Clark, and President Joseph Fielding Smith said they concurred.
I was at the hospital, and God verified to me that my son was dead. I was waiting to see what God would have me do. James’ spirit was in consultation with spirit world authorities to determine whether James should stay there or return to mortality. He was told by them that he had the choice since men on earth had promised him that he might live.
As I walked in the hall, [pacing] backward and forward, the voice of the Lord came to me, asking that I go quickly and bless my son. The nurse told me that she had not been able to find his pulse for three hours.
I obeyed. As I was preparing to enter his room, the Lord spoke again, saying, “He never disobeyed you in life, and he will not do it now.”
Thus, you see the relationship between a father and his son after one has gone through [the veil to] the spirit world and the other remains in mortality. I spoke as the Lord commanded on earth, and my son in the spirit world heard my voice and obeyed. He came back from the dead. As man might say, “pursuant to the direction of God.” It was for a special purpose.
After a day or two, he returned to the spirit world, the purpose of the restoration of his life having been accomplished. His spirit literally gave life to his flesh after the flesh was dead because both father and son had right reason and because each had a right spirit.
My son had searched for the fountain from which truth springs, and he had found it. Oh how great are the mysteries of Godliness.[2]
Joseph Fielding McConkie:
It was Oscar McConkie’s custom to relax with the newspaper each evening in his living room. One evening as he did so, a still small voice whispered in his ear, “Get up and run!” Surprised, he was not sure what to do. The voice repeated, “Get up and run!” Upon hearing the voice the second time, he immediately responded. Throwing the paper aside, he ran through the kitchen and out the back door, past his bewildered wife, who wondered what had overcome him. As he dashed out of the house, the first thing he saw was a large black stallion without a rider racing across the backyard. Without time for thought, he ran alongside the horse and grabbed its reins, pulling it to a halt. It was only after calming the horse down for a few moments that he looked on the other side and discovered his eldest son, Bruce, with his foot caught in the stirrup. He had been riding the horse when he was knocked off by a limb, catching his foot in the stirrup. Had his father failed to heed the promptings of the Spirit, Bruce could well have been dragged to death.[3]
Oscar W. McConkie Jr.:
I am going to start with the account of Emma Sommerville McConkie, my own grandmother, . . . My grandmother lived in Moab, Utah. . . .
One of the [Mormon] girls in the . . . community fell in love with one of the gentile [nonmember] boys and, against counsel, married him. She left the fellowship of the Saints and joined the [non-Latter-day Saints]. When she had a child she found herself an invalid and her husband left her. There was no one to care for her.
My grandmother was the president of the [ward] Relief Society. The Relief Society made assignments for compassionate service. When the assignments were made nobody in the Society would take the assignment of taking care of this . . . girl. Grandmother was left with that responsibility. Grandmother (who had spent her strength as a pioneer and was sick) was left with that responsibility. Every day grandmother McConkie would go over to this girl’s house; would wash her down; would change the bedding; would wash her child; put new linen in the crib; and then would struggle to get home before she collapsed.
One day grandmother didn’t think she had the strength to do it; but she whipped herself in line, and did what had to be done. She just barely got home. She collapsed in an old overstuffed chair in her front room and fell into a deep sleep. As she slept she saw herself, and as she saw herself she saw that she was bathing a child. The Spirit said to her in the dream that this was not the child she had been caring for and tending. It said that she was caring for the Christ child. The marrow in her bones almost melted, she wrote afterwards. She was awakened because of this witness of the Spirit.
After she was awakened, Grandmother McConkie heard a voice, and the voice said to her, “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.” . . .
Some years ago I read this account in my father’s journal. I wanted to get it just right so I awakened my Dad and rehearsed it to the end. I said, “And my grandmother seemed to hear a voice.” My father raised up off the bed and said, “She didn’t seem to hear a voice, She heard a voice.”[4]
Endnotes
This article is cross-posted with the permission of the author, Dennis B. Horne, from the blog at truthwillprevail.xyz.
From Elder Glenn L. Pace, given at a BYU devotional:
One year ago I entered the hospital after having a heart attack that resulted in considerable damage. The operation seemed to go very well, considering I needed six bypasses. However, one hour after the operation, I had a second attack. My heart stopped beating for more than three minutes, and I went into shock for six hours. I was placed on life support. It was five days before my heart began to beat on its own, and I was on a respirator for over two weeks. The doctors were concerned that I might have suffered serious kidney and brain damage (the jury is still out on the brain). I lost from one-third to one-half of my heart muscle, and things looked bleak. The doctors and some of the Brethren prepared my wife and our children for the worst. Technically I was gone, but then I got sent back. My cardiologist calls me Elder Lazarus. Etched indelibly in my soul to this day are the words “Your work is not yet finished.”
https://speeches.byu.edu/talks/glenn-l-pace/work-yet-finished/?M=V
From President M. Russell Ballard’s funeral, Church News report of excerpts and summary of President Holland’s address, with some important text I have restored that was left out:
In fall 1990 — 33 years ago — President Jeffrey R. Holland, then a General Authority Seventy serving as president of the Church’s Europe North Area, learned that President Ballard would be his first contact in the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles.
He was “frightened and frantic,” having had “little ecclesiastical exposure to him and no personal contact at all.”
“That night in my bedroom I dropped to my knees in a state of despair. I knew I was going to disappoint Elder Ballard, the First Presidency, the Lord, myself, everyone, in this new assignment. I wept; I was young. I pled for peace and some reassurance.”
“I then heard a voice so stunning that I stopped praying — midsentence — and considered every syllable I had just heard. Like a handful of other similar experiences in my life, I don’t know whether it was an audible voice or one delivered directly to my mind, but that distinction doesn’t matter,” said President Holland, who was set apart Nov. 15 [2023] to succeed President Ballard as the Acting President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles.
The Lord then communicated a powerful message to President Holland: “Jeffrey, this is My work, not yours. So you rejoice in the arrangements I choose to make.” I deserved that, but then I heard the unbelievable: “Russell Ballard will be one of the best friends you will ever have in this world. You will enjoy his company and seek his counsel for the rest of your life.”
“That brief, unforgettable, unexpected answer to prayer has been more than fulfilled in every detail a thousand times over.”
“What I can say is that for the next three years we cherished those long hours laboring together in England and Scandinavia, laughing and crying and loving the work, eating fish and chips on the run and avoiding lutefisk at Christmas time,” he said. “Then most unexpectedly, I became a fellow member of his quorum where I have enjoyed his friendship and wise counsel for more than 29 years, six of which I have been at his elbow watching closely his leadership of that quorum.”
“Even more personally, may I say that during my recent five-week hospital stay, three weeks of which were spent in an unconscious journey to the doorstep of death, President Ballard gave me blessings or visited or called the hospital every single day for those touch-and-go weeks while my life hung in the balance.”
Church News, Nov. 17, 2023. Some wording restored that the Church News left out or summarized.
https://www.thechurchnews.com/leaders/2023/11/17/23965707/president-m-russell-ballard-funeral-services-remembered-faith-commitment-gospel-of-jesus-christ
From Ensign article in July 1989 by Elder M. Russell Ballard:
In 1979, I was privileged to speak in the rededicatory service of the Logan Temple. Standing in that holy building, I felt close to my noble great-grandparents, who had helped build and furnish it and who had served there faithfully for many years. Great-grandmother Margaret led the group of sisters that wove thousands of yards of fine rag carpeting to cover the floors of the Logan Temple. Great-grandfather Henry hauled the first load of sand used to build that temple. Then, as bishop, he wrote many recommends for its dedication in 1884.
I believe that Heavenly Father binds us to our kindred dead in many ways. I feel bound to Great-grandmother Ballard by the priesthood sealing ordinances. I also feel bound to her faith, which I have learned about through her own written words and those of other family members who have recorded her history. . . .
Margaret’s greatest sorrows were the deaths of five of her eleven children. But even in this, the Lord did not fail her. Ten days before her daughter Ella died, Margaret had a dream concerning her children that she could not interpret. After Ella’s death, Margaret went to the temple to complete ordinance work for her. While there, she prayed to know the meaning of her dream and was given a vision. “I was shown that my five beautiful children were saved and that they would be mine again. This was a great comfort to me, and I felt to praise my God for taking them, that through loosing them I might have them again.”
Several years earlier, Margaret had received another spiritual blessing after a great trial. She had become ill during a pregnancy and was confined to her bed. She had previously lost two children in infancy and had had several miscarriages. One day, when Henry took the children to see a parade, Margaret raised herself from her bed and crawled to the door to lock it so that she could pray undisturbed. Calling to remembrance her willingness to bear children, she begged for help and asked to know her standing before God.
“A voice spoke plainly to her, saying, ‘Be of good cheer. Your life is acceptable, and you will bear a son who will become an Apostle of the Lord Jesus Christ.’” (Sketches from the Life of Margaret McNeil Ballard, p. 3.) Margaret recovered and bore a healthy son, Melvin Joseph, whom she gave to the work of the Lord. Although Margaret recorded this experience, she never revealed it. Family members discovered it in her personal papers after her death. In 1919, Melvin J. Ballard was called to the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles—a year after his mother died.
Great-grandmother Ballard also used the spiritual gift of healing, as she had been promised in her patriarchal blessing. She recorded that once, when her husband lay near death, she heard a voice instruct her to pray for him. Feeling timid about doing so because he had just been administered to, she hesitated. But when the voice came twice more, she obeyed. “The Spirit of the Holy Ghost was with me and I was filled with a Divine strength,” she wrote. “When I had finished my husband had gone to sleep and slept quietly.” She also recorded incidents when her son Melvin and her son Henry were healed through her faith.
https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/ensign/1989/07/margaret-mcneil-ballards-legacy-of-faith?lang=eng
Testimony of David F. Fawns [Stake Patriarch]
Raymond, Alberta, Canada.
About 1916
Yes, I have a testimony, and like the Apostle of old, I am not ashamed to let others know for I know its worth to me. When I first heard this restored Gospel I believed it with all my heart, and I have testified of its truth to many. Forty-four years ago Apostle J[ohn]. H[enry]. Smith laid their hands upon my head and set me apart for a mission to the Southern States. They told me my mission was to mobs and ministers, that I was going to an enemy’s land, but my enemies would not have power to even make afraid; and I would go in peace and return in safety. I was to be protected and assisted by those whom the Master had given power over death. These and many other sacred promises and prophecies have all been literally fulfilled. Then . . . don’t I know that my Redeemer lives? You may ask, did I ever see Him? I answer, “No.” But I have felt His influence and know that I was in His presence for I heard His voice. And at times when nothing but death was staring [me] in the face, those sacred and comforting words were: “Fear not, I am with thee, etc., etc.” Did He not promise His servants of old, that He would be with His servants even to the end of the World?”
This testimony . . . I care not though they go to the ends of the earth, and I write them in the name of Jesus Christ,
D. F. Fawns.
https://catalog.churchofjesuschrist.org/assets/267c9e7e-26ee-4c87-85ba-68d3e25307f0/0/0?lang=eng
[Excerpted from longer history; see link]
It was in this [Bible study] environment that I grew to love the Lord, and to believe that God was our Father, and that he sent His Beloved Son, Jesus Christ to die for the sins of the world. This created in me the desire to obey the Gospel laws, but after exhausting all the means at my command to study the doctrines of the Protestant Churches, I failed to find anything resembling the ancient church, established by Christ and His apostles, either in doctrine or practice. . . . I therefore sought the Lord in humble supplication for light as to where I might find His Church.
Finally father secured a Child’s History of the Church, . . . which I read. It told of the rise of the church in these last days, and many of the cardinal principles of the church. This seemed to fit my conception of the true Church of Christ better than anything I had discovered in my search for the Truth, but as it was a Mormon treatise, and I had come to believe anything from that source was only propaganda to secure members, and that their true doctrines and principles were really unchristian, I was greatly troubled, and went to the Lord in humble prayer day and night, seeking his guidance to the Truth. One night, after engaging most of the night in prayer, the Lord by his Spirit said to me, “Joseph Smith is my prophet and his people are my people.” This astonished me, and I said in my prayer to the Lord, “That cannot be possible, for Joseph Smith was a very wicked man, and his followers are practicing wicked things continually”; but the same sweet voice of the Spirit repeated to me, “Joseph Smith is MY PROPHET and his people are MY PEOPLE. The things you have heard about them are stories circulated by MY ENEMIES, and they are false.” Oh how sweet was this witness of the Spirit of God, for there was no doubt in my mind as to the source of this sweet message, for it bore the impress of Truth, and was so satisfying to my spirit that it made me rejoice with unspeakable joy. . . .
O what joy filled our hearts, to know that we were now in very deed MEMBERS of the CHURCH of JESUS CHRIST of LATTER-DAY SAINTS. A privilege which we had cherished for these THREE LONG YEARS, and now it was a reality. How sweet was the Spirit’s whispering voice, speaking peace to our souls. Surely no other joy could be compared to that which was ours.
Joseph E. D. Tomlinson
Jan. 14, 1935.
https://catalog.churchofjesuschrist.org/assets/b1cc866e-8b10-4148-a1cc-491510faabc7/0/16?lang=eng
The below item from church archives is self-explanatory:
Aurora, Utah
July 29, 1934
Filed January 8, 1936
An Answer to Prayer
In January, 1927, I arrived in New York City. Not long after that—it must have been during the Spring Conference—Pres. Ballard and another brother, whose name I do not remember, visited the New York Branch. I was told that these two Brethren would be the conference visitors, and I rejoiced greatly to have the opportunity to soon see and hear two more Apostles of our Lord! With this joy still in my heart, came the thought that I could not understand them, however, as I knew not more than two dozen words in English. This killed my joy instantly. However, I could not abandon the thought to go anyway. I remembered how the Lord had answered my prayers on other occasions, and I decided to make my troubles known unto the Lord. I did this till the day of conference. On conference morning we were present a little before the meeting started. A brother offered to sit next to me, so that he could interpret quickly in case something special was said. With this thought in mind, we sat down, my seat being at the end of a bench. I tried to my utmost, while the first speaker was talking, to hear one of the words I had learned in the English language, but it was in vain.
Still there was a great joy in my heart. Pres. Ballard was announced as the next speaker. When I saw this man arise, I remembered all that I had read and heard about him, and I wished that I could understand him. So great was this desire that I folded my hands and prayed once more with all the faith that was in my heart: “O, God, bless me that it might be possible for me to understand the words of this man!” Then I heard the story of Abraham, how the Lord required of him to offer his only son Isaac. This story I had heard often in my life, it is true, but never was I so much inspired by it as when it flowed from the lips of this man.
He had the power to portray the story in such a way that one imagined to see the whole course of events. When finally he gave his powerful testimony that he knew that Christ lives, that he had seen the Master, then I could hardly withhold my tears; I felt so enthused that I asked myself the question, how is it possible to receive such a testimony and how did he obtain it, and a male voice, as loud as Pres. Ballard’s voice itself, spoke at my side: “Have faith.” I stared and looked up, as the voice came from a person whom I believed was standing on my right hand side!
Then I looked at my neighbor at my left hand side, if he was not stirred by this interruption but nothing had disturbed him. Pres. Ballard concluded his address, the closing hymn was sung and the meeting dismissed. The good brother took me to the side and said he should like to interpret the address to me at a convenient place. While Pres. Ballard was speaking, he had not ever disturbed me once, so enthused he had been himself, and had altogether forgotten to translate the sermon then and there. I told him that he did not have to translate the address, he was surprised, and I related my experience to him. But something else I experienced also, and that is, when the Apostles of the Lord bear their testimony, then there are beings present we do not see with our natural eyes. This “Have faith” came from the lips of such a being. Just why I was the only one that heard it, I do not know.
Bertha Rettmer,
Aurora, Utah
https://catalog.churchofjesuschrist.org/assets/b01a4012-64d2-40d1-b198-b3ae243621d5/0/22?lang=eng
From the life of Elder B. H. Roberts, from the Church News, 22 November 1975:
The war finally drew to a close, and the peace treaty was signed on 11 November 1918. Two weeks later, on Thanksgiving Day, the American soldiers were gathered together in “one grand Thanksgiving service.” The large attendance included high-ranking military officers, and the services were conducted by the chaplains, who were seated on the grandstand. Elder Roberts was relegated to one of the rear seats. He had not been asked to participate on the program; therefore, it was with great surprise that he heard the chaplain in charge announce, ”Elder Roberts, the Mormon chaplain from Utah, will now step up and read the Thanksgiving Psalm.” Elder Roberts had never heard of the Thanksgiving Psalm. But, holding his personal embarrassment and possible impending embarrassment to the Church, he arose and walked to the podium, not knowing what he should say.
Years later he testified that during the long walk to the front, he distinctly heard an audible voice announce “The 100th Psalm.” It was as clear as though another person had spoken at his side. Elder Roberts faced the crowd, paused, then opened his Bible and read Psalm 100. After Brother Roberts had closed his Bible and was returning to his seat, he noticed that his fellow chaplains refused to look at him; their eyes were immovably fixed on the floor. It was then he realized that his part on the program had been a deliberate attempt to embarrass him, the Church, and the Priesthood. He acknowledged the help which he had received from the Lord in his moment of need and, when he returned to this tent that night, he checked the Book of Psalms, discovering that the 100th Psalm is the most pertinent and appropriate one for Thanksgiving.