During the second year of my mission, I was serving with an Elder Siddoway from Brigham City, Utah. He was a fun-loving elder, and we got along well. We had an opportunity to go to a bulk-food warehouse, similar to Costco, with some other elders in our district on a P-Day. The plan was to go shopping, and then, that evening, be back in time for evening missionary activities. Everything went well, and we had our shopping for the month all loaded into the vehicle. It was later in the evening when we were driving back. I remember it being dark, and then starting to rain. The elder who was driving, the senior missionary of the four of us, didn't adjust the speed for the winding wet roads of Vermont, in spite of the three of us urging him to slow down. He'd slow down for a moment, then gradually get back up to a speed nobody was comfortable with. At one point, this elder was negotiating a pretty intense curve in the road, when he saw ahead of us a car coming that was straddling the double-yellow line. Our driver saw a dirt road to the side, and, in an effort to avoid striking the other car, turned suddenly to go to this road. This plan was not successful. Our car left the road (likely hydroplaning), and according to emergency personnel that came to the scene, flew 50 feet, and then came down in a creek bed, which was about 30 feet below the surface of the road. The elders in the front seat sustained lower spine injuries due to the impact on the floor of the creek bed. All of the windows of the car shattered, and beads of glass showered us from all directions. Ultimately, an ambulance arrived on the scene, and we were all carted away with neck braces and on stretchers, as the first responders struggled to carry us up the steep embankment to the road where the ambulance was located. Though my face was very bloody, I didn't need stitches there. I did get stitches in my knee, and had to wear a "kneebilizer" to keep my leg straight for several weeks so the bending of my knee wouldn't result in the stitches coming out prematurely. My companion and I, a few weeks after the accident, went back to the place, mainly out of morbid curiosity. While the first responders had stated that "it's a miracle that you're alive" as they pulled us out of the creek bed, my companion and I didn't realize how close we had come to going into the next life. As many of you are aware, New England is a place where there are many trees. Typically, ALL farm land, cities, towns and roadways come into fruition by much labor, as very dense forests have to be cleared for them. This was the case where our car went off the road. As we walked around the area where our car had left the road, there was only one place where there was enough room for a car to go between two trees, and the bark was missing on the passenger side and the driver's side where our car had passed through. Traveling around 60 mph, had our car hit any of those thick trees, the damage to us and the car would have been disastrous. Additionally, when we saw where our car landed in the creek bed below, the slight impact from the trunks of the two trees caused our car to rotate in such a way that the large boulders that were everywhere on the creek were avoided, and our car looked like it had been placed in the spot where it wouldn't hit/bounce off, or impact any of the large, car-sized boulders below. Visiting this place changed both myself and Elder Siddoway. In the 2-3 months more that we served together, we decided to aim for "exact obedience," as we were both left with the undeniable impression that our imperfect effort, however small, was the least we could do for the extension of our lives that could have been cut short.
When I think about my testimony, I definitely have distinct memories that fill my mind. To me these memories seem to be in harmony with the Book of Mormon urging to "Remember, Remember" (Helaman 5:12, amongst others). I remember how I felt when I asked, as a small child, for mom to read the "Illustrated Story of Joseph Smith" again, and again, and again. I remember again how I felt when, as a missionary, I would share this story with investigators, who would feel similar things when I would quote from Joseph Smith History, "I saw a pillar of light exactly over my head, above the brightness of the sun, which descended gradually until it fell upon me..."(Joseph Smith History, 1:16). I remember sitting across the altar, looking at my soon-to-be wife Laura at the Salt Lake City Temple, which still stands as THE happiest day of my life. I remember, with Dad/Grandpa placing fingers on Kate, who was not breathing on her birthday, and blessing her to live. I remember, as a homesick missionary on my first night at the MTC crying my eyes out, wondering if I would see my family again (this was not long after Alex's passing) and having words come into my mind "I love Jesus Christ," and having my sadness and worry completely vanish. I remember sitting at various classes at BYU, learning by "study and also by faith" (D&C 109:7). As a returned missionary, I thought I knew a little bit about church history and the Book of Mormon. This was proved wrong when I sat down in a lecture room with Susan Easton Black, a tiny little human, who introduced us to the life of Joseph Smith by saying, "I've read directly from over 8,000 journals from people who had first-hand knowledge of their experiences and memories of the Prophet Joseph Smith." For the next 16 weeks, we went day-by-day, month-by month as Sister Black started in 1805 and continued to 1844 without notes, telling the story of Joseph Smith. Similarly, I thought, after my mission that I knew something about the Book of Mormon. After taking a class from Doran's mission president, Joseph Fielding McConkie (what a NAME!), I learned that I didn't know anything about the book!?! Finally, after about half of a lifetime of service in the Church of Jesus Christ, I have a testimony of becoming like a child, "submissive, meek, humble, patient, full of love, willing to submit to all things, which the Lord seeth fit to inflict upon him..." (Mosiah 3:19). If there was anything written on my gravestone other than my name, birthdate, and deathdate, it would be that I had cultivated faith, learned to be 'meek, humble, patient, and full of love." My testimony is that as I live in harmony with the lofty goals stated above, I have experienced happiness, closeness with important people in my life, and peace. In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.