Our former stake patriarch, Elmer Perry, once told of a terrifying experience he had while driving on a dark night on a highway with no center line or shoulder lines during a heavy rain storm.  With limited vision, and no lines to guide him, he couldn't tell whether he was on the road or not.

My wife had a similar experience in a driving snow storm at night.  The snow was coming down thickly, and was being stirred about by the wind.  Her headlights were no help since the snow reflected the light right back to her.  She couldn't see the edge of the road.  She crept along slowly in the car, had a daughter walk ahead of her to guide her for a bit, but had the girl get back in for fear that she might be hit by another car.

My own experience was in a thick fog on Cabbage Hill as you approach Pendleton.  Fog is always especially bad there, but particularly so on this early morning before daylight.  If I could have safely pulled over and stopped, I would have, but I had no idea where the road stopped and the canyon began; and if I stopped in the roadway, another car would have been sure to come along and hit me from behind.  I had to keep driving.  I was grateful to come up behind a truck that was also creeping down the hill.  I put my car right behind the truck, and would have followed it right over the precipice if the driver had gone there.

And then there is the story my co-worker in the temple told me.  He was with a group of scouts on a 50-miler in the wilderness when one of them had an attack of appendicitis.  Brother Vickery had taken two horses.  He put the boy on one horse, and he rode the other as they made their way down the mountain to the trail head where they would meet the boy's parents.  Night set in as they reached the trail head.  The boy's parents got him to the hospital before his appendix burst, but Brother Vickery was left there in the pitch dark, in an unfamiliar forest, and needing to find his way back to camp where he could care for the rest of the scouts.  What to do?  He started his horse up the trail and trusted her to find the way, which she did.

What do these episodes have in common?  They're all different versions of people struggling to find their way in a dark, dreary, and dangerous world where help, guideposts, and guidelines seemingly don't exist.  These episodes aren't a bit different from the difficult and dangerous journeys that people are making here in mortality without the gospel to guide them.  Life is a scary thing when you don't know where you are, how you got there, or where you're going.  I assure you that it's a scary position.

People are on the sidelines shouting, "Lo, here" or "Lo, there."  Who are you to trust?  It's obvious that most of them are lost and scared, too.  They're without rudders, or helms, or pilots, or principles, or anchors.  They're blown about with every wind or idea that comes along.  In order to find respite from their fears they give themselves over to drink, drugs, immorality, greed, pride, hate, and contention.

It doesn't have to be that way.  There are helps and guideposts and guidelines all around us if we'll use them.  All that's required is a little humility, obedience, and effort.

Take the commandments of God, for instance.  They were given not to restrict our freedoms, but to keep us safe, and to make us happy.  They're eternal.  They're reliable.  They anchor us.  They guide us.  They're firm.  We can't break them; we can only break ourselves against them.

Unfortunately, we live in a world that is "madly throwing everything overboard, including the anchor, the compass, the helm, and even the pilot."  (W. Grant Bangerter, Ensign, November 1977, pg. 27).

For additional guidance we have general conference. Where else could you go to find such a concise, reliable, sure set of guidelines to direct our lives?  General conference constitutes our marching orders for the next six months.

We're led by living prophets.  How special is that?  How can you possibly go wrong if you're following the advise of men whose counsel comes straight from God?  We're given guidelines for our daily living.  We're warned about pitfalls.  We're told where happiness and peace are to be found.

We have prayer.

We have the gift of the Holy Ghost.  Think of that.  As baptized members of the Church we have a member of the Godhead as our constant companion.  All we have to do is to be worthy of that companionship, and to learn how to listen and to hear the sure directions that come from that source.

We have the scriptures.  We have the Bible, which is a peg around which people can tether themselves and charge off in any direction.  But we also have the Book of Mormon and other scriptures which constitute second, third, and fourth pegs which, tied together, provide a straight and sure line to follow to eternal life.

We have so much.  We're so blessed.  We feel sorry for those who haven't yet discovered how to get on the boat.  We feel sorrier for those who, in their shortsightedness, jump off.  It's our duty and our pleasure to throw lifelines to those who are floundering, who are lost, frightened, and sinking.

The lifeline that was thrown to me was a book--the Book of Mormon...