TOURS AND TESTIMONY … CONTINUED

I have long been aware that the feelings we experience are a very complicated and sometimes unexplainable phenomenon. I also understand that at times we have difficulty distinguishing between those feelings which are generated by emotion and those which we claim to be a brought about by the Holy Spirit.

On the fifth day of our tour we traveled along the Usumacinta River in motorized long boats to the ruins of Yaxchilan. After we had entered the compound by a twisting tunneled entrance we seated ourselves beneath a large Ceiba tree which the Mayans call ‘the tree of life’ and Michael Wilcox gave us a wonderful lesson from the Book of Mormon. While he was speaking I noticed a young man who came near our group and sat down where he could hear without the aid of the ear phones which made it possible for us to hear with clarity for some distance from the speaker. When the group was dismissed to explore and climb the ruins I introduced myself to the young man who was on a trip with a small group of friends from the Boston area. I asked him if he had been able to hear Michael’s words and he said he had heard all the words of our preacher and then said he had felt them as well. His girlfriend stood nearby for a while, but then when she saw that our conversation was going to continue for some time she wandered off. As we conversed about what he had felt I wondered what it was exactly I was feeling during our dream fulfilling adventure.

I know I felt impressed with how Michael Wilcox was like a diamond carver as he approached his lesson preparation. I could see that over the years he had taken what was once a piece of coal hardened by the pressures of time and chipped and polished upon that rough stone until now after many settings it had become a rare and beautiful gem.

I know I felt in awe and overwhelmed at the accomplishments of the builders of these ancient edifices. It was inspiring to think about them accomplishing what they did with crude instruments and assumingly limited mathematical skills.

I felt wonder at the patience it would have taken them to discover the movements of heavenly objects and correlate them with the seasons of the year.

I felt diminished when I thought about what I would be leaving behind for future generations to measure my contributions during mortality.

I felt the magnificence of the results of the Creator of this world. There were moments when I mentally returned to those days now long gone when I was a young missionary in Mexico and all I could see was dust and all I could feel was humidity. Now I felt overwhelmed at how beautiful and vast the jungles and rivers and even the efforts of mortals can be. It really is a beautiful and glorious world we inhabit.

What I didn’t feel was an increase in my testimony of the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon. My testimony was never to come to me by brick and mortar, neither by education nor instruction and never by birth or coercion. It came to me in those days when I was choking on the dust from unpaved roads and wringing my shirts of the gathered humidity of that morning’s effort. I was laboring in a small central Mexican town called Ciudad Valles which was along the Rio Verde. My companion was Elder La Mar Davis who had only one gear to walk in, and that was High gear.

One day we had crossed the Rio Verde to visit and try to teach in some small thatched roofed homes. My Spanish was in its earliest days and so I had memorized the phrase in Spanish – ‘I know that Joseph Smith is a Prophet of God and that the Book of Mormon is the word of God.’ We had large flannel boards made out of old umbrellas which we sat in front of us while we taught. Elder Davis said he would give me a little kick when he wanted me to give my testimony. When the time came for my testimony it was as if my ability to speak had been removed from me. My companion gave me an interesting look and went on giving the lesson solo. When we were outside of the little hut he asked me what was going on. By this time speech had returned and I informed him that for the first time in my life I suddenly realized that I didn’t know if I had a testimony about Joseph Smith or the Book of Mormon. It was one of the saddest days of my life when I realized I had been living on the borrowed light of parents, leaders and friends. I knew that the spending the next few years of my life in Mexico teaching the gospel would be impossible and hypocritical without the knowledge that these things were true.

Elder Davis set apart the first two hours of every day to try to convert his companion. We read the Book of Mormon together. I would read a verse in Spanish and then he would repeat the same verse in English. If I had questions we would stop our reading and he would explain as well as he could the passages we had just read. We would finish each session with prayer and supplication to Heavenly Father to help me gain a testimony of the Book of Mormon.

It was some weeks later and we had finished our dual reading of the Book of Mormon and we once again found ourselves on the other side of the Rio Verde in the small hut of the boot maker we had been in when I had frozen up when appointed to give my testimony. As Elder Davis was giving the lesson I was struck with the notion that I was understanding all that was being said and when it came time for the affirming testimony of the junior companion I boldly and clearly stated in Spanish that ‘I know Joseph Smith is a Prophet of God and that the Book of Mormon is the word of God.’ Once again I got a curious look from my companion, but this time it was filled with kindness as he saw my eyes brimming with tears. He then explained to our dear friend the boot maker what had just taken place in my life. That I no longer was living on borrowed light, but that indeed I truly knew the words I had spoken were true. Two things happened to me that day, First, I was gifted with understanding the Spanish language and second, the feeling which came upon me when I had that significant spiritual moment was so distinguishable and so much more powerful than anything I had felt before that I would never again be left to wonder whether I was having a spiritual experience or some emotional counterfeit.

Our tour of the lands of the Book of Mormon was indeed the fulfillment of a life of dreams, but my testimony of the truthfulness of Book of Mormon was cemented into my soul long ago in circumstances which were far humbler and far less dramatic than our recent tour.

I know that Joseph Smith is a Prophet of God. I also know that the Book of Mormon is the word of God.