I am struck by the faithfulness of three very young men who were called in their youth as prophets of God.  Joseph (who was sold into Egypt), Nephi, and Joseph Smith were all just boys when they began having manifestations which ultimately positioned them to become powerful leaders.  All three thereafter experienced terrific hardships which might have discouraged and broken lesser men, yet there is no indication that any of them ever faltered, murmured, or complained.  Instead of succumbing to their troubles (which they could easily have done), they chose to believe that their situations had a purpose, and that things would work out.  Their optimism and steadfastness seem almost super-human.

In the fall of 1966 I was wallowing in self pity.  There was no real reason for it; but I was where I didn't want to be, and took pleasure in feeling sorry for myself.  I was a student at Oregon State University.  I was chronically depressed.  I couldn't make myself so much as open a book.  Such a choice is fatal to a college education.

The worst moment of my life was having to pick up the phone to tell my parents that I was quitting school and coming home.  I can only imagine the worry and the anguish that my parents experienced.  They were cheerful and supportive, but I must have been constantly on their minds as they searched for some way that they could help their troubled son.  I know that my mother constantly prayed for me.

What I could not see then, but what is crystal clear now, is that the Lord was putting me in a position to offer me a life-changing choice.  He was going to give me a book and the opportunity to know and to follow Him.  His intent was to offer me a way out of my misery, and to open for me the prospect of great joy.

I opened the book.  It was the first I'd opened in months.  It is ironic that a book, the Book of Mormon, would be the way out of my misery.  I was surprised and intrigued by its contents.  Light came flooding into my mind.  The darkness disappeared.  I became cheerful and optimistic.  I became hungry for more light and more knowledge.  I couldn't get enough.  My prayers were answered on a daily basis even in the midst of that most miserable of conditions—military boot camp.

That's where I read the New Testament for the first time.

I was happy.  I was joyful.  Life was bright and good, and I've never looked back.  I never, never, never want to experience that darkness again.

The choice I made to be baptized opened up a life and a world that can only be described as “choice..”

When the Lord told the Jaredites that He was going to guide them to their promised land, He called it “choice above all the lands of the earth.”  He called it “choice” six times (Ether chapters 1 and 2), meaning preeminent, preferred, of uncommon excellence, exquisite, and rare.

My life has been choice.  I am blessed to live in that same choice, promised land.  I have a choice wife and family.  The setting of my home is choice.  My testimony is choice.  I've been chosen to hold the Priesthood.  My callings therein have been choice.  The time I live in is choice.  We have multiple scriptures and the privilege of preparing the world for the Lord's Second Coming.  I have the privilege of being the pivot point to save both my progenitors and my posterity.  This is truly a choice position.

When I was 19 I made a choice, and that choice has given me 55 choice years.  They have been exquisite, rare, and a joy.  Like Joseph, Nephi, and Joseph Smith I was called while young, and have been steadfast.  Nephi's brother, Jacob, said that when Nephi died, “fifty and five years had passed away from the time that Lehi left Jerusalem.”  (Jacob 1:1 and 1:9-12).  I'm now the age of Nephi when he died.

These three choice men are my heroes.  I hope the Lord can be as pleased with me as He must have been with them.