The Journey Home

Brothers and sisters, I just want to thank Patricia for that beautiful musical number and inviting the Spirit to our meeting today. I also want to take this time to recognize my mother, who is here with me. In all the major milestones of my life, my mother has been by my side.

If you would have seen me this morning in my office, I was a little nervous because I didn't know if she was going to make it here today. She was helping my little sister with girls’ camp, and when she walked in as I was rehearsing—it was one of the best surprises, seeing my mom walk in. So, Mom, thank you for being here today.

While attending the Salt Lake 2nd Young Single Adult ward, many years ago, our temple committee put together an activity that I never thought would affect my life so drastically.

We were given instructions to meet at a park at the base of the Draper temple where a group conducted “get to know you” games. We were tasked with finding out each other's names, our strengths and weaknesses, our interests, and then our thoughts on the temple. After about an hour of getting to know each other, we were directed to meet our group leader, Mele, at the trail head of our hike. We were told that as we go through this hike, we need to pay attention to our surroundings, help each other out, and watch our pace. And then we began our hike.

About half a mile up the mountain, we were stopped by Mele and asked to find a rock that stood out to us. So we started searching, and we all came back with a variety of rocks—some smooth, some rough, some small, and some large and in my friend’s case, he came back with a huge rock, almost like a boulder. And, of course, we looked at him like, “Of course Sione would bring back that big rock.”Sione was definitely the joker in our group. 

We were then asked, “Why did you pick that rock?” The answers varied just as much as the rocks did.

“I chose this rock because I thought it was pretty.”
“I chose this rock because it just so happened to be the closest one to me.”
“I chose this rock because it was rough on one side—like the path I’m on—and smooth on the other side, like the path I’m trying to get to. I’m a work in progress.”

And then there was Sione’s reasoning. Of course he gave us a smart answer. He said: “I picked this rock because, like the wise man that I am, I must build my house upon this rock—our Savior.”

Of course Sione said that.

Mele pulled out a backpack and asked us to put all the rocks inside. One by one we put our rocks in the backpack. Mele zipped it up and then turned to my friend Camille and said, 

“Camille, you’ve been selected to carry these rocks with you, could you wear this backpack as we go up the mountain?” 

Knowing that the bag was heavy, Camille agreed and put the backpack on. As she did, Sione said, “Oh no, please –no. Please let me carry it! My rock is the biggest.” 

Mele responded, “No, this is Camille’s task, she can carry it.” 

“I was just kidding,” Sione replied.“Please don’t make her carry that huge rock. I certainly didn’t mean for her to suffer because of my carelessness.”

Camille walked over to Sione, put her hand on Sione’s shoulder and said, “Don’t worry, Sione. I’ll carry this for you.” Knowing the weight of his choice and watching another pay for it, made Sione feel embarrassed. At this point he had a choice to make. Was he going to shyly try to blend into the background and disappear or was he going to own up to it and find ways to serve? 

With tears in his eyes, Sione walked side by side with Camille, finding ways to serve her, to make her hike up the mountain easier.

After walking up a mountain for what seemed like forever—it was probably just two minutes—Mele tapped Camille on the shoulder and said, “It is done, you can put it down now.” As Mele removed the backpack from Camille, Sione gave her the biggest hug and said, “Thank you for carrying that rock for me.”

Mele then asked, as we continued our hike, for another volunteer for our next group challenge. Then my friend Naki volunteered. She was not sure what she was volunteering for—she just wanted to participate. The task was to carry Naki on our shoulders on what seemed like the most vertical part of the hike. 

Mortified, Naki asked if someone else could please complete the task, she felt as if she was too heavy for our group to carry her. But then, as a group, we said,“ Oh no, Naki, don’t even worry, we’ve got you! We will get you up the mountain.” We then hoisted Naki onto our shoulders and continued our hike.

I recall looking at Naki and tears were just flowing down her face. The thought of everyone carrying her up the mountain was overwhelming. She felt like what we say in the Tongan language as “FAKAHELA” or a burden to those who were carrying her. After reaching our end point for this challenge, we put Naki down and gave her a hug. She continued to cry and said, “I’m so sorry that you had to carry me, but thank you.  Thank you for carrying me.”

Mele then asked those who carried Naki, “How did you feel carrying Naki up the mountain? This is the most difficult part of the hike and you carried her. What was going through your mind?”

My friend Mark spoke up and said, “I’m not going to lie, it was hard. But I was NOT going to let Naki down. I said I’d carry her and I did. Yes, It was painful, but the pain I would feel from letting her down would have been worse. So I happily carried her up the mountain.”

Mele asked Naki how she felt about this challenge. Naki replied, “Asking for help is uncomfortable for me. I hate asking for help. But having you all come together to carry me at the beginning, it was difficult. But towards the end, I realized how grateful I am. I know that you were here to carry me, and I realized that I’m not alone.” We gave Naki a hug and reminded her that she will never be alone. 

As we continued our hike, we were greeted by another group who explained the last part of our hike. Each of us was handed a blindfold and instructed to put it on. As I put on my blindfold, I was handed a rope to hold in one hand and an egg to hold in the other. The instructions were clear. “Lee, hold onto this rope, it will get you to the end of the path. Lee, hold onto this egg and don’t let it go. It represents that which is most valuable to you. Take care of it, Lee—it’s fragile. And, Lee, your final instruction is: do not let go of this rope until a voice you know and trust, tells you to let go.”

Even though I was tired, it was hot, I began my hike. At first the hike seemed very easy, just a stroll, I thought, “Oh, this is wonderful, if the rest of the hike is like this, I’ll get to the end in no time.” 

I spoke too soon.

The trail started to go uphill, it was getting harder. It then started to go downhill. Because I was blind folded, holding a rope in one hand and an egg in the other, going downhill was difficult. I was trying to make sure I didn’t fall. The trail started to level out. Still going strong—still holding on to my rope, still protecting my egg—I kept walking. And then I started to hear voices. I started to hear people calling out to me. And no, I wasn’t delusional. No, I wasn’t hallucinating. This was all part of the activity. The voices said things like: 

“Lee, it’ll be easier to finish the trail—just let go of the egg.” 
“Lee, I can hold the egg for you. You’ll finish the hike, and it’ll be so much easier. Give me the egg.”

Now, knowing that these voices were there to tempt me, I held on tighter. Tighter to the rope and tighter to the egg. 

And I continued. Then the voices said,  

“Lee, let go of the rope, it's more fun over here.” 
“Lee, you’re wasting your time, just come this way.”

But I held on tighter, I wasn’t going to let those voices get to me. The path seemed harder. I was going through bushes. I was getting scratches on my arms and legs. There were times I fell, and while still holding the rope and egg. I thought, “Just stay down, its easier. It’s easier to stay down. Why am I putting myself through this? Just stay down.”

It was then I remembered the quote I had seen in a seminary building at Granger High School: “I never said it would be easy, I only said it would be worth it.”

So I continued to walk. The voices started to subside and walking the path seemed so much easier. And I thought, Well, since the path is easier, I don’t need to hold onto the rope as tightly”, so I loosened my grip. “I don’t think my egg is in danger,” I thought. So I didn’t grasp it so hard. I wasn’t protecting it like I had when I felt like I was in danger or when temptation was near. 

Things were going well, and I thought, “I must be nearing the end of this hike. Hallelujah. Thank you.”Still walking down the path, a voice then said to me, “Lee, go ahead and let go of the rope.” So, I did. I took two steps to the right. The voice then said, “That’s it Lee. Come this way. It’s more fun over here.”

And I thought, “Oh no!” I began to worry. What did I just do? I wasn’t paying attention. I let my guard down. This was NOT a voice that I knew or trusted.”

I stood there trying to figure out my next steps. I didn’t have the rope to help me to the end of the path, but if I could just find it and get back on the path. But I thought, “If I could just find it and get back on the path, we’ll be good.” Knowing I had taken two steps to the right, I took two steps to the left and started to frantically feel around for the rope in hopes that I could find it, The worry in me increased. I was desperately trying to find this rope. The voices came closer and said, 

“There’s no point in going back, you’re not going to find it.”
“You’re too far from the path, just give up.”

And I started to believe the voices. “I messed up, I wasn’t paying attention, so this is what I get. I should give up.”

But I thought, “Just one more time, I’ll look for the rope.” And I started to feel around again. Then someone grabbed my hand and led me to the rope. 

A second chance! I was given a second chance.

Now that I was back on the path, you could not pry that rope from my hand. Once again, I found myself grasping onto the rope, protecting my egg and now, I was ignoring the voices. They would come and continue to tempt me, and I’d say, “Nope. You’re not going to get me. I already fell once. I’m not going to do it again.”My goal was to make it to the end.

I kept walking when suddenly, someone put their hand on my shoulder and said, “Lee, welcome home, you can let go of the rope.” I started to cry, cause I knew that voice, I trusted that voice, it was Sister Matagi from my ward. She then took the rope and the egg and asked me to remove my blindfold. It was then that I found myself standing in front of the Draper Temple… And I was home!

Brothers and sisters, within this experience, I wanted to point out a couple of things. And the first one is the rock.

Sione and the rock.
We are here to learn and grow. And during that process, we will make mistakes. 

In the Gospel Library study manual we learn,
“Like the prodigal son in the Bible, sometimes the mistakes we make can cause us to feel sorrow and pain. But there is always a way to overcome those feelings. We do not need to be happy every time we fail, but we can learn from our experiences and make choices that can help us be happier.”

In a talk by Elder Lynn G. Robbins, “Until Seventy Times Seven,” he said,

“Mistakes are a fact of life. Learning to skillfully play the piano is essentially impossible without making thousands of mistakes. … ‘Success,’ it has been said, ‘isn’t the absence of failure, but going from failure to failure without any loss of enthusiasm’”

Sione felt the weight of his decisions and how they affected a friend, but he didn’t let that stop him. Yes, he made a mistake, but he did not let that one decision stop him from serving.

Camille and the backpack
How many of us have had someone else come and carry the burden for us? Maybe someone in a group project did more than their share. Maybe a colleague or friend stepped in to help us with our callings. How many of us have asked for mercy when justice was being sought? We’ve all felt the weight of our decisions and the consequences that will follow—hoping that forgiveness can grant us a clean slate. 

It is there, in those moments, that our brother, Jesus Christ, carried our mistakes with Him to the garden, where He bled from every pore. And then He pleaded with the Father: “Forgive them, for they know not what they do.” And in the end, He declared, “It is done.”

Carrying Naki
In a 2016 General Conference message, Elder Utchdorf shared insights on the parable of the lost sheep. He shared:
“To me, the parable of the lost sheep is one of the most hopeful passages in all of scripture.
Our Savior, the Good Shepherd, knows and loves us. He knows and loves you.
He knows when you are lost, and He knows where you are. He knows your grief. Your silent pleadings. Your fears. Your tears.

It matters not how you became lost—whether because of your own poor choices or because of circumstances beyond your control.

What matters is that you are His child. And He loves you. He loves His children.

Because He loves you, He will find you. He will place you upon His shoulders, rejoicing. And when He brings you home, He will say to one and all, “Rejoice with me; for I have found my sheep which was lost.”

Just as the Savior rejoices when a lost sheep returns, just as our group rejoiced when we carried Naki up the mountain to the challenge endpoint, so should we rejoice when a friend returns back to the path, when a friend allows us to help them, when a friend learns that they, too, are a son or daughter of a loving Heavenly Father who sees them and accepts them just as they are. 

Wanting to give up
Elder Utchdorf also shared that,
“ There are some who believe that because they have made mistakes, they can no longer fully partake of the blessings of the gospel. How little they understand the purposes of the Lord. One of the great blessings of living the gospel is that it refines us and helps us learn from our mistakes. We "all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God," yet the Atonement of Jesus Christ has the power to make us whole when we repen t.”

Many times I’ve wanted to give up. The road was too hard. The task was asking too much. “I’m not smart enough. I just can’t do it.” Because I let those thoughts get the best of me, many times I did give up. These are moments that caused much regret in my life. But along with those regrets came learning moments—and motivation. Motivation not to feel defeated again. Motivation to build my confidence and knowledge so that if I was ever faced with a task so daunting, I would face it with faith. 

We hear all the time that with God, anything is possible. But because we are human, we sometimes let our human side get the best of us—and we still have a tendency to give up. Something that I am still working on—something I’m trying to remember is Faith over Fear. 

The Voices
There will be many voices and thoughts in your head that will try to either convince you to give up or motivate you to keep going.
“You’re too far off the path, don’t even bother.”
Or,
“I never said it would be easy, I only said it would be worth it.”

The voice—or rather, the Spirit—meaning the Spirit of God is the one we need to listen to. That voice will always help you along the path. 

One experience my cousin shared while on his mission has stuck with me ever since. 

Elder Samuela Lavulavu, was serving in Texas. He and his companion were proselyting and as they were making their way home, they thought: “Let’s stop by Brian’s home”—one of their investigators.

Samuela shared, “We walked up to the front door and as I took the first step onto his porch, the spirit said, “Elder Lavulavu, turn around and go home.” 

Samuela thought, "We’re just going to check on Brian. Just a quick visit." So he then took another step onto the porch and the Spirit again said, “Elder Lavulavu, turn around and go home.”

Still thinking it will be a quick visit, he knocked on the door. When Brian opened the door, they found that he was overly intoxicated. Brian was happy to see them and welcomed them into his home. Samuela and his companion entered and were shown to the living room where they sat down. Brian sat across from them. Next to Brian was a table. And on the table was a half drunk bottle of alcohol and a hand gun. Fear overcame Samuela. How was he going to get out of this situation? If the gun was turned on them, how was he going to protect his companion? How was he going to get out of this house?

His goal: protect his companion.

As they were talking, Brian leaned over toward the table. It was then that Samuela yelled, “NO, PLEASE STOP!”

Brian looked at Elder Lavu and asked, “Elder, did you think I was going to hurt you?” Samuela shyly nodded, yes. Then Brian said, “Elders, maybe tonight is not a good night for a visit,” and showed them to the door.”

As they were walking home, and discussing what had just happened, Samuela learned that his companion had felt the same prompting—but he, too, had ignored it. Had they listened to the Spirit, they would have avoided the situation entirely. It was then that Samuela said something that has stuck with me ever since:‘You never let the Spirit tell you twice.”

When the Spirit says go, you go. When the Spirit says stay and testify, you stay and testify. And when the Spirit says turn around and go home. You turn around and go home. The voice we want to listen to, the voice that we must hearken to, is the voice of the Spirit of the Lord. It will guide you, lead you, and protect you.

Welcome Home
Our journey home is going to be a rough road. We’re going to make mistakes, we’re going to get scratched up, we’re going to stumble and fall. Then it’ll be smooth. And then you’ll start walking uphill. It will be hard, you’re going to be tired and hot. But the view from the top is worth it. The reward of keeping our covenants and enduring to the end is eternal. In the hymn Welcome Home we are reminded:

An open door, a warm embrace
Call us to worship and share God’s grace.
All can gather safely here,
Partake of emblems, feel Jesus near.

As weary travelers on life’s road,
When the world is dark and cold,
Where’er we wander, where’er we roam,
We’re always welcome, welcome home

The temple doors invite each guest
To feel God’s presence and in Him rest.
Humble souls at altars kneel,
Make cov’nants sweet, bring hearts to heal.

As weary travelers on life’s road
When the world is dark and cold,
Where’er we wander, where’er we roam
We’re always welcome, welcome home

That is my testimony to you all, in the eternal name of our Savior, Jesus Christ, Amen.