Back in the day when we had priesthood opening exercises, complete with an opening hymn, the ward ended up with no men capable of playing the piano. A bunch of men singing a cappella is not pretty, so I asked my wife to teach me how to play a hymn.

She chose "God Moves in a Mysterious Way." It's short, relatively simple, and has a great message. She wrote a number above each note in the hymn book to tell me which finger to use, and after a lot of practice I was able to play it. It took a lot of courage, but for several weeks the priesthood had accompaniment as they sang. Same song every Sunday.

Your bishop is currently focused on that hymn, so he asked me to prepare a talk based on its message.

I regularly ask myself, "Why me? Why am I so blessed? Why can't everybody feel as blessed as I do?" Your bishop says that "the words of that hymn answer every question that falls into the category (of) 'Why me?'"

What your bishop doesn't know is that I've already used that hymn as the basis for a church talk. There is a line in the hymn that I like to dwell upon. It says, "Ye fearful saints fresh courage take; the clouds ye so much dread are big with mercy and shall break in blessings on your head." (Hymn 285).

I remember reading the book "To Kill A Mockingbird" over 50 years ago. All that I remember from the book is that the main character was named Atticus, and that he was always saying, "It's not time to worry yet."

That's great advice. It's never time to worry. Worry is a circle of inefficient thought whirling about a point of fear. The clouds we so much dread rarely break. When they do, they often end up being blessings.

Last week I reread in Genesis the story of Joseph who was sold into Egypt by his brothers. Joseph's is perhaps the best story in all of scripture.

Joseph was your grandfather. Most, if not all of us, are actually his descendants. I'm very proud of that. Joseph was a truly great man. He had plenty to worry about, and plenty of adversities, but he always made the best of his situations, remained cheerful, and came out on top. Joseph Smith was like him. Joseph Smith counseled, "Never be discouraged. If I were sunk in the lowest pits of Nova Scotia, with the Rocky Mountains piled on me, I would hang on, exercise faith, and keep up good courage, and I would come out on top."

Joseph was Jacob's most obedient and righteous son. Because he was his father's favorite, his brothers jealously sold him into slavery.

Potiphar bought him. He became Potiphar's most trusted and best slave. Joseph was put in charge of all that Potiphar had.

Joseph was falsely accused, and put in prison. He went from being best son to being best slave to being a prisoner. Joseph surely would have been justified to become discouraged and to just give up, but this grandfather of yours set out to become the best prisoner. He was put in charge of all the other prisoners.

He was obviously a praying prisoner. God revealed things to him. That brought him to Pharaoh's attention, and he became the #2 most powerful man in Egypt. God warned him that seven years of plenty would be followed by seven years of famine. Joseph stored enough wheat during the seven years of plenty to save the lives of probably millions of people, including the lives of his own father, his 11 brothers, and their children.

Did he exact revenge on his brothers when they came to Egypt to buy food? No. He revealed to his brothers who he was, and kissed them. It's fun to imagine how shocked they were to discover that the powerful man they were paying obeisance to had been the little brother that they'd sold for 20 pieces of silver.

They were terrified, but Joseph told them not to worry because it wasn't them who had sold him into slavery, but God, for the purpose of saving the lives of Israel's family. The hymn says:

"His purposes will ripen fast, unfolding every hour;

The bud may have a bitter taste, but sweet will be the flower."

I maintain that our biggest afflictions are intended to become our greatest blessings if handled correctly. Lehi told his son, Jacob, that "God will consecrate thine afflictions for thy gain" (2 Ne. 2:2), and I like to add: "If we resist the urge to complain."

The biggest affliction I ever had was losing the ability to walk for six months. I was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis. That's the one that deforms your joints, and bends you into weird shapes. I had the best herd of cattle in the county. I couldn't care for them and had to sell them. That hurt. I was incapacitated. I couldn't care for my family.

Your bishop was a teenager. He took over the running of the farm while going to school during the day. He got more done than I would have if I'd been up and around. He discovered strengths and capacities he didn't know he'd had; and this kid who had formerly shouted every morning that he hated school, went on to get his doctorate, and became a veterinarian.

His older brother taught me woodworking and cabinet making after I'd recovered, and was enabled to finally find his wife because of the cabinet shop that we opened. I sold the cow herd at the very top of the market, just before cattle prices plummeted. The cattle market stayed in the tank for years. We'd have lost the place if I hadn't gotten rheumatoid arthritis.

Incapacitation from rheumatoid arthritis is one of the greatest blessings I ever received.

John Dickson was a one-armed general authority in 1992. He lost his arm to cancer just before serving his mission as a young man. The doctor said he'd die, but his father's priesthood blessing promised him that he'd serve his mission, be married, and have a family. One of my boys was in the Mission Training Center when Elder Dickson visited and spoke to the missionaries. He challenged the elders to a tie-tying contest. He won, using his mouth and his one hand.

In general conference he made this amazing statement: "I want you to know that having one arm for nearly thirty years has been one of the greatest blessings of my life." (The Ensign, Nov. 1992, 45).

"The clouds ye so much dread are big with mercy and shall break in blessings on your head."

I repeat: your greatest afflictions are intended to become your greatest blessings if you handle them without complaint.

Look at Joseph. Look at Abraham who was told to sacrifice his son.

"God moves in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform. He has a plan for each of us.

"He treasures up His bright designs and works His sovereign will."

His sovereign will includes miracles that He'll work in your behalf. President Nelson said for us to "Seek and expect miracles."

Elder Alexander Dushku spoke in general conference for the first time in April 2024. He told us to write down and gather together in one place, all of the rays of light we've received in the miracles that we've observed. He said that collection of rays of light would become a pillar of light that couldn't be toppled. It would be like the pillar of light that appeared above Joseph's head, and in which the Father and Son appeared to him.

I did that. I wrote down 10 of my rays of light. Ten miracles. It took me an hour or two. I emailed them to my kids, but then I realized that I wasn't finished. I wrote out 10 more, and shared them with the family, too. Then I remembered 10 more. I haven't shared them. Because of this talk, I keep remembering miracles that have taken place in my life, and I wrote out another dozen. My list is up to 58, and is maybe 20 pages long.

Miracles keep happening. If I keep looking for miracles, and if I'm paying attention, and if I keep being grateful, and if I keep recording these miracles, I think I'll easily reach a hundred; and these aren't little things.

For instance, last year my granddaughter and her husband finally found that they were expecting a baby. They were overjoyed. They went for an ultrasound. One of those "clouds that ye so much dread," appeared. The ultrasound revealed that the baby had a badly deformed head. Imagine how they felt. They were sent to specialists, and four more ultrasounds showed the same thing. The baby had a syndrome with a name.

We called for a family fast in the baby's behalf. That little boy is seven months old now, crawling everywhere as fast as he can go, is a remarkably beautiful child and has the most perfectly-shaped head you've ever seen, and they named him James.

He's number 44 on my list of miracles. You'd have a long list, too, if you'd record them. I don't experience any more miracles than anyone else. I just have more descendants for the Lord to work with.

"Ye fearful saints fresh courage take, the clouds ye so much dread are big with mercy and shall break in blessings on your head."

Another grandchild was born with a hole in an internal organ that was healed through the power of the Priesthood. Another grandson was born with his legs all bent askew. They were everything but backward. That tiny baby was put in a body cast. He was heavy, and awkward to carry, and hard to cuddle. Now he's a normal young man currently serving the last half of his mission.

"God moves in a mysterious way, his wonders to perform." He has a plan for each of us, and His plan is way better than anything we could possibly come up with on our own. God has woven some hard spots into each of our life plans, but you can depend upon the fact that those adversities will ultimately be good for you.

We need to do four things: (1) We need to quit worrying. It's not time to worry yet. (2) We need to quit complaining. (3) We need to "seek and expect miracles," as President Nelson told us to do. And (4) we need to write our miracles down, as it says in another of our hymns: "And it will surprise you what the Lord has done."