For the past few months, I’ve been working up the courage to be completely open and vulnerable with you. When I first received this assignment, I struggled to settle on a topic bouncing back and forth between different ideas, but nothing felt quite right. Finally, at the urging of my family and friends, I decided to share part of my conversion.
In an address called “Symphony of Reverence,” President Harold B. Lee quoted Ralph Waldo Emerson: “The only gift is a portion of one’s self.” He then added, “It is what you and I give to others that means more than all the sermons we preach; the lesson of our lives, the sermon of our own conduct, and our own character will be most powerful in helping others.” [1]
It is my humble prayer that the Spirit will abide us as I share a piece of me with you today.
My life has been an interesting journey filled with change. I know what you’re thinking. But no, this is not an Aqua Net hairspray ad from the 80s. This radically creative young boy was me. If I had known then that I’d have my hair privileges revoked as an adult for making choices like this as a kid, I might have thought twice about this haircut. But hey, you live and you learn.
Growing up, I moved around a lot. But for the most part, Logan, UT, was my hometown. My father also grew up near Logan, and as a young man, he served in the Vietnam War. He and my mother met when he returned home, and it wasn’t long before they got married and I came into the picture. Unfortunately, he passed away when I was just five years old. I cherish the few memories I have of him.
My mother later remarried, and together, she and my stepfather had two children, my younger brother and sister. But eventually, she found herself a single parent again, and she struggled to support us, often working two or three jobs at a time. Lacking any formal education but possessing an incredible work ethic, she did everything from cleaning and painting homes to working in a coal mine. To this day, she is perhaps the hardest-working person I’ve ever known.
Sadly, her upbringing was extremely difficult, and because of that, there were very real and lasting effects that continued to impact her as an adult. This manifested in her life in a variety of ways, including in her associations with people of questionable character, and frequently landed her in tumultuous and precarious situations. As my siblings and I grew a bit older, we yearned for a little more stability, and they decided to move in with their father.
I was a junior in high school when a capital crime rocked our small town. By the time I was a senior, the investigation had narrowed, and my mother had become the prime suspect. The scene of her arrest will forever be etched in my memory as one of the most surreal and helpless moments of my life. I remember the look of shock on her face as officers handcuffed her and placed her in the backseat of a squad car. As she glanced my direction, she could see the fear in my eyes, and she adjusted her expression to reassure me that everything was going to be okay. But it would be 17 years before an Innocence Project would take on her case and succeed in getting her released and exonerated.
The months following her arrest were difficult for me. I managed to keep up with the rent for a short period of time and quickly learned some hard life lessons living on my own. One of the toughest lessons was in learning to balance my limited budget, and I soon discovered that spending money hanging out with friends left me very little money for food. I became quite creative with Bisquick pancake mix and turned it into all sorts of bread-like creations, including homemade, flavorless crackers that somehow lasted me an entire week. Some of you college students may be able to relate.
When the money ran out, I could no longer pay rent, and I was evicted from my studio apartment. Just months away from my high school graduation and under the perception of having nowhere else to go, I packed my few belongings into the back of my car. I was homeless and all alone. Each morning, I showered at a local gym, attended school during the day, and then worked into the evening so I could afford to eat and put gas in my car. After work, I’d find a quiet place in a local park where I could pitch a small tent and hunker down in a sleeping bag and a pile of blankets for the night.
Although the physical challenges were difficult, they weren’t the most unbearable aspect of my situation. With all the media coverage surrounding my mother’s case, it felt like the whole town knew who we were. It was hard to escape the well-meaning but often insensitive line of questioning I would get from acquaintances and strangers alike. It was easy to be distracted and preoccupied during the day, but at night, it was difficult to sleep. I couldn’t escape the feeling of being utterly lost and alone. I watched as my peers went through their day without a care in the world as their parents picked them up from school or cheered them on at sporting events. I even felt distant from my younger siblings, who were struggling through their own version of this tragedy but at least had somewhere to call home.
Fortunately, living in Logan had given me some wonderful experiences with members of the Church. Before my mother’s arrest, I had learned bits and pieces about the gospel. A few sets of missionaries had taught me about Heavenly Father, Jesus Christ, and His restored Church. One kind family had even given me my very own set of scriptures with my name embossed on the cover and their handwritten testimonies inside.
I often had rough nights there, in the darkness of my tent, but on one particular evening, I was overcome with intense emotional sorrow and despair. I remembered the things I had learned about Jesus Christ, and I desperately wanted Him to fill the enormous void I had in my life. I wanted to know Him and to know if He knew me. I cried out to Heavenly Father with all the pain and desire in my soul. Every part of my body shook as I cried, “Are you really there? If so, why am I so lost and alone?” I pleaded with Him to give me an answer, a warm, fuzzy feeling, or a sign.
As I stared into the night sky, I listened intently, and something happened that I didn’t see coming. Absolutely nothing. No answer. No sign. No relief. Just the reality of my situation and I couldn’t turn it off. It was a mix of emotions that I didn’t know how to process. And there was no rest that night.
The next morning, still feeling heavy-hearted and emotional, I picked up my beautiful set of scriptures and stared at them for a while. As my feelings of disappointment turned to anger, I stormed outside and thrust them as hard as I could into a nearby dumpster. I can still hear the sound they made when they hit the bottom.
If I could go back in time, I’d tell that boy that his future self would regret that moment, and that for the rest of his life, he’d wish he could go back to that dumpster and retrieve that heartfelt gift. If only I had realized then that a loving Heavenly Father had seen these challenges on the horizon and had inspired those around me to place those scriptures in my hands in preparation for the day when I would need them the most. But at the time, I just didn’t see it that way.
If any of you have ever felt lost and discouraged in this way, my heart truly goes out to you. Our journey through this mortal life can lead us through some incredibly difficult and unfair times. The scriptures are replete with stories of the downtrodden, afflicted, and lonely—Job, Moroni, Mary, Hannah, Joseph of Egypt, and many more.
And perhaps the greatest example of this is the Savior Himself. The Apostle John tells us that “he was in the world, and the world was made by him, and the world knew him not. He came unto his own, and his own received him not.” [2]
In the April 2009 general conference, Elder Jeffrey R Holland gave an amazing talk titled “None Were With Him.” He said, “I speak very carefully, even reverently, of what may have been the most difficult moment in all of this solitary journey to Atonement. I speak of those final moments for which Jesus must have been prepared intellectually and physically but which He may not have fully anticipated emotionally and spiritually—that concluding descent into the paralyzing despair of divine withdrawal when He cries in ultimate loneliness, ‘My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?’ The loss of mortal support He had anticipated, but apparently He had not comprehended this.”
Elder Holland continues, “Indeed, it is my personal belief that in all of Christ’s mortal ministry, the Father may never have been closer to His Son than in these agonizing final moments of suffering. Nevertheless, that the supreme sacrifice of His Son might be as complete as it was voluntary and solitary, the Father briefly withdrew from Jesus the comfort of His Spirit, the support of His personal presence … He had to feel … what it was like to have the divine Spirit withdraw, leaving one feeling totally, abjectly, hopelessly alone.” [3]
I love this mental image that Elder Holland has painted with his words. That Jesus Christ Himself, though clean and perfectly submissive to the will of God, felt utterly alone in the same hour He needed the comfort of our Heavenly Father the most. But the Father may never have been closer, allowing the opportunity for this perfect Son to gain an understanding for all of us.
Speaking of the Savior’s understanding, Elder Karl B Hirst said, “I wonder, if Jesus were to choose a place where you and He could meet, a private place where you would be able to have a singular focus on Him, might He choose your unique place of personal suffering, the place of your deepest need, where no one else can go? Somewhere, you feel so lonely that you must truly be all alone, but you aren’t quite, a place to which perhaps only He has traveled but actually has already prepared to meet you there when you arrive? If you are waiting for Him to come, might He already be there and within reach?” [4]
Looking back to that cold, lonely evening in my tent, I can see now that I was at a hinge point in my young life. When I didn’t get the answer I so desperately desired, would I stay the course? It saddens me to report that from there, I headed down a dim path. Although I managed to graduate from high school and had even been baptized, I spent the next few years stumbling around, feeling lost, and making careless decisions as I struggled to figure out who, or rather, whose, I was.
Luckily, my path crossed that of another wanderer who was going through many similar trials. Despite growing up in the Church, my wife, Tennessa, had experienced heartache in her own life and had fallen away. We were best friends instantaneously, and it wasn’t long before we married and started a family.
As time passed, Tennessa began to realize that we were missing a critical element by not having the gospel in our lives. Recognizing the changes in her as she stepped closer to the Lord inspired me to be a better man. Though the transition was slow, we managed to make small changes over time that turned us away from bad habits and behaviors and helped us align our lives more closely with the teachings of Christ. As we prepared to enter the temple to be sealed for all time and eternity, I decided it was time to get my patriarchal blessing. It had taken me eleven years to get to that point.
The patriarch had no idea about the loneliness I had experienced in my life, nor could he have understood that I was still struggling to make sense of it all. But as he began my blessing, the first words were, “Ryan, the Lord’s eye is upon you. You are not by any means lost to His sight. He has known you from the beginning.”
It wasn’t just hearing those simple words that healed my pain. It was the way the Spirit touched my soul in that precise moment and melted away years of unresolved emotion and doubt. I knew in that instant that I had never been lost to His sight.
I look at our family today and the many ways the Lord has guided our lives. Although we have battled our fair share of ups and downs, I cannot deny that He is there, that He is aware of us, and that He loves us. I echo the words of the prophet Nephi who said, “My God hath been my support; He hath led me through mine afflictions … He hath filled me with His love.” [5]
Sometimes the Lord answers prayers immediately. Sometimes, He answers them 11 years later. And sometimes, we may not recognize an answer in this life.
At a CES devotional in 2013, Elder David A. Bednar told the story of a worthy priesthood holder named John who had recently returned home from serving a mission and married a wonderful young woman named Heather. “Approximately three weeks after their temple marriage, John was diagnosed with bone cancer. Because cancer nodules were also discovered in his lungs, the prognosis was not good.”
Over the next few months, John underwent chemotherapy and a surgical procedure to remove a large tumor in his leg. Elder Bednar visited him and Heather in the hospital, and John asked if he would give him a priesthood blessing. Elder Bednar was then inspired to ask him, “I know you have the faith to be healed, but do you have the faith not to be healed?”
John later reported, “Having the faith not to be healed seemed counterintuitive, but that perspective changed the way my wife and I thought and allowed us to put our trust fully in the Father’s plan for us. … As we prayed, our petitions changed from ‘Please make me whole’ to ‘Please give me the faith to accept whatever outcome Thou hast planned for me.’” [6]
With special permission, I carefully share the experience of some great friends of ours, Nick and Cindy. On November 19, 2022, while awaiting an emergency lung transplant, their 24-year-old daughter, Taeloni, was in a battle for her life. Despite having exhausted every possible measure they could think of, including finding the best medical professionals, enduring multiple tests and treatments, and enlisting multitudes to fast and pray on her behalf, Taeloni, sweet, courageous, and positive to the very end, took her last few mortal breaths and passed away.
In this time of devastating loss, their family was left with a lot of unanswered questions. Comments like, “She is in a better place,” “The Lord needed her more,” and “Everything happens for a reason,” though said with the best of intentions, seemed to magnify their pain, not ease it, when they were already struggling.
In the two years since Taeloni’s passing, I’ve had many tender conversations with Nick. He admitted that he could have easily fallen away from the Lord when they didn’t receive the answer they had hoped for. But knowing how important it is to hold onto faith, Nick explained, “God’s promises can be different than we pictured, slower than we wanted, and further away than we thought.” And when asked about his feelings toward the gospel, he said, “I don’t know if I can say that I absolutely know this is true. But I sure hope it is.” As tears filled his eyes, he continued, “And if it is, I need to do all that I can to be with [my family] for eternity.” Through his pain, he has chosen to follow the Savior and is aiming for eternity. I admire the strength and examples of Nick and Cindy.
The Prophet Joseph Smith was very well acquainted with life’s unfairness. He was tarred and feathered, beaten and ridiculed, labeled a liar, and chased from multiple homes. He lost several children, countless friends, and ultimately, his own mortal life. While falsely imprisoned in Liberty Jail, he prayed, “Oh God, where art thou? And where is the pavilion that covereth thy hiding place? … Yea, O Lord, how long shall they suffer these wrongs and unlawful oppressions, before thine heart shall be softened toward them, and thy bowels be moved with compassion toward them?” [7]
Doctrine and Covenants 121:7–8 hold the Lord’s reply to Joseph: “My son, peace be unto thy soul; thine adversity and thine afflictions shall be but a small moment; And then, if thou endure it well, God shall exalt thee on high; thou shalt triumph over all thy foes.” [8]
Later, in that same chapter, the Lord promises of “a time to come in which nothing shall be withheld.” [9] Though the Lord doesn’t say when, He does say that we will one day understand. Furthermore, in Matthew 7:7, we read, “Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened.” [10] Again, not when it will be, but that it will be. These promises express God’s love.
I love this message from President Russell M. Nelson’s address, “Overcome the World and Find Rest”: “I weep over your heartaches, disappointments, and worries. I love you. I assure you that our Heavenly Father and His Beloved Son, Jesus Christ, love you. They are intimately aware of your circumstances, your goodness, your needs, and your prayers for help. Again and again, I pray for you to feel Their love for you.” [11]
In closing, I bear a hard-earned witness of the unconditional love and redeeming power of our Savior, Jesus Christ. My brothers and sisters, you are by no means lost to His sight, and you never have been. He has known you from the very beginning and promises that one day, you will have a full understanding. I pray that in those dark and lonely moments of your life, you’ll have the faith and strength to endure it well, as so many of those noble and great ones who have gone before. I thank you so much, and I share this in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.
Notes
[1] Clyde J. Williams, The Teachings of Harold B. Lee (2015), 616.
[2] John 1:10–11.
[3] Jeffrey R. Holland, “None Were with Him,” Ensign or Liahona, April 2009.
[4] Karl B. Hirst, “God’s Favourite,” Liahona, October 2024.
[5] 2 Nephi 4:20-21.
[6] David A. Bednar, “Accepting the Lord’s Will and Timing,” Ensign, August 2016.
[7] Doctrine and Covenants 121:1, 3.
[8] Doctrine and Covenants 121:1–8.
[9] Doctrine and Covenants 121:28.
[10] Matthew 7:7.
[11] Russell M. Nelson, “Overcome the World and Find Rest,” Liahona, October 2022.