As a bishop, I was involved in everyone's problems.  It seemed I was expected to help and give counsel in every difficulty that people faced.  Some of the problems were difficult puzzles which became great challenges for me.

On one occasion I was driving to town to keep an appointment with an individual who was involved in an especially difficult situation.  I have forgotten what the problem was and who it concerned.  But I've never forgotten the inspiration that came as I puzzled about the person and his problem.

I was thinking deeply and praying about the situation as I drove.  What counsel could I give?  I may have forgotten the person and the situation, but I still vividly remember the message that came in answer to my prayers, and the spot where it was given.

No words were spoken.  There simply came into my mind a picture in two parts.  How I've wished that I were an artist!  I'd have painted the picture and hung it on the wall in the office where I counseled people.  Not being an artist, I couldn't paint the picture, but someday I'll find an artist who will.

The picture I saw was of a cow—a very thin, emaciated, starving cow—on a barren, drought-stricken hillside.  The thin, dry grass had been eaten down to the dirt.  The bushes and trees were devoid of leaves.  To make matters worse, a storm had broken and was pelting the poor cow with a soaking rain.  She was hunched up, head down, with her tail to the wind.  She was a picture of total misery.  Problems upon problems, and now this!  It was the final straw—the end of the world.

What the miserable cow couldn't see was that her present problem was the answer she'd been hoping, longing and praying for.

The second part of my picture showed the same cow, on the same hillside.  This time, however, she was well-fleshed and sleek.  She was standing in lush, green grass, wild flowers and sunshine.  Life would have been perfect except for the pesky flies that she was swishing her tail and throwing her head at.

The moral of these pictures is that most often our problems, if handled right, turn into our greatest blessings.  We’ll never, however, be without problems, even in the best of times, as the pesky flies demonstrate.  Problems, how they're handled, and their ultimate solutions are a major purpose of mortality.