Our purpose in life is to bring light into the world.

Each person is born with the light of Christ.  It is a free gift.  What each individual does with that light thereafter is up to him.  Many extinguish it.  Many let it lie dormant, neither extinguishing nor feeding it.  Some work to increase their light and the lights of others.

Light and testimony and faith and happiness are all things that increase within ourselves the more we give away.  The more love we give, the greater becomes our capacity to love.  Within the gospel is the only place where things can increase the more that is given.

The world needs light.  The world needs Christ.  Christ is the light and the life of the world.

The gospel of Jesus Christ dispels darkness.

The experience of King Lamoni is a vivid portrayal of the light of the gospel of Jesus Christ overcoming the darkness of wickedness and ignorance.

Lamoni lay as though dead.  His wife, the queen, asked Ammon to look at Lamoni to see if he was really dead, because the queen doubted that he was.

"Now, this was what Ammon desired, for he knew that King Lamoni was under the power of God; he knew that the dark veil of unbelief was being cast away from his mind, and the light which did light up his mind, which was the light of the glory of God, which was a marvelous light of his goodness—yea, this light had infused such joy into his soul, the cloud of darkness having been dispelled, and that the light of everlasting life was lit up in his soul, yea he knew that this had overcome his natural frame, and he was carried away in God—"  (Alma 19:6).

In that one verse, in those few words, the images of light and darkness are used nine times.

Ammon, himself, had been involved in a similar experience years earlier when his friend, Alma, was struck as though dead.  Alma's darkness, too, was dispelled by the light of Christ.

A few hours after looking in on Lamoni, Ammon knelt in a prayer of thanksgiving to God, and "was also overpowered with joy" and sank to the earth.  (Alma 19:14).

Joy and light are near synonyms.  Anyone who has experienced the gospel of Jesus Christ in any degree has experienced Joy and Light.  These can be added upon.

My own Lamoni experience was this:

I was a student at Oregon State University—an honor student—in my second year.  I was so depressed that I couldn't open a book.  I dropped my classes, called my parents, and told them that I was coming home.

I got in my car and pointed it toward home, intending to go through Central Oregon.  That route would take me up over the Cascade Mountains.

I was very low.  I had reached absolute bottom.  I had no plans.  I would go home, lose my student deferral, be drafted into the army, be sent to Vietnam, and be killed.  No life, no future, no hope.

As my car climbed the mountains, I suddenly found myself in a beautiful, early October snowstorm.  In my dark world, the snow was a thing of beauty, a glimmer of hope in a hopeless world.  I was so struck by the beauty of the falling snow that I pulled off to the side of the road to watch it.

The beauty of the snowstorm triggered something within me.  I had never prayed before in my life, but suddenly, out loud, I was pouring out my soul to God.  I thanked Him for the sight of the beautiful snow in that beautiful setting.—And then I told Him all about my troubles.

I started the car and continued on.  My out-loud prayer continued, too.  All of my feelings came gushing out.  Everything I'd thought and felt and hoped for in my 19-1/2 years poured forth.

I reached the top of the pass.  The snowstorm gave way to a gentle rain.  Before me appeared the most brilliant rainbow I'd ever seen.  I thanked the Lord for the rainbow, and I continued to pray.

As the highway twisted and turned, the rainbow dodged from one side of the road to the other.  Sometimes it formed a perfect arch over the road ahead.  As I prayed, I wondered if I could drive under the arch.

I'd had enough experience with rainbows to know that they were uncatchable.  I had believed a story my father told me when I was a little boy, and decided to dig for the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.  I placed a shovel on the back porch and waited for the next rainbow.

It was two months in coming, but finally one appeared in our field below the house.  I grabbed my shovel and ran to dig up the pot of gold.  I would be a hero.  My family's problems would be over as I returned with a fortune.

I ran hard so as to arrive at the place before the rainbow faded away.  But I stopped, bewildered, when I realized I was getting no closer to the rainbow, that it was staying a constant, measured distance away from me, and that it had hopped the fence into our neighbor's field where I was not allowed to trespass.

I had no idea where to dig.

From that childhood experience I learned that it is impossible to catch a rainbow.  I thought of this as I drove through Central Oregon, praying, and watching the rainbow ahead.

I later calculated that the rainbow—my rainbow—and my vocal prayer, both lasted for 200 miles and three or four hours.  The rainbow stayed just ahead in the gentle rain, and never once diminished in its brilliance.  Despite what had to have been cloudy conditions, not once in all those miles or in all that time did a cloud obscure the beam of sunshine that made the rainbow possible.

It was a miracle—my miracle.  God was showing me a sign and giving me hope.  I thanked Him, and prayed on.

I entered my home county.  It began raining very hard.  I rounded a corner, and caught the rainbow!  Had my window been open, I could have thrust my arm into those brilliant colors.  It was as if a voice had spoken:  "Everything is going to be all right!"

I heard it.  I felt it.  Something had just happened to me that was impossible.

I was amazed and shaking.  For the second time on that trip, I pulled over to the side of the road and stopped.  I had just caught a rainbow.  A loud and clear message had just told me that everything was going to be all right.

But no sooner had I stopped than I realized that the rainbow was leaving me.  I quickly put the car in gear and sped up, but it was gone.  The message had been delivered.

Several days after arriving home, I made my first trip to Provo, Utah to visit my girlfriend at BYU.  While there, her roommate's boyfriend, a returned missionary, sat me down in front of the six girls living in that apartment and gave me a missionary discussion.  It was embarrassing.  But during the discussion he asked Margie (who eventually became my wife) to give me a Book of Mormon.

I had wanted a Book of Mormon for a long time.  I'd been afraid to ask any of my friends for one, however, because I thought that it was perhaps a secret book that only the properly initiated should have.

I remember nothing about that missionary discussion, except that it was embarrassing, plus I can still see Margie jumping up and disappearing into her bedroom to get me a Book of Mormon.  She came back and handed me her own marked copy that she had been using in her religion class.  I protested that she needed it, but she insisted that she could easily get another.

I left that embarrassing situation with a prize.  I finally had a Book of Mormon!  I took it home to Oregon and set it on my desk where I simply stared at it and relished it for two weeks.  I knew something was going to happen to me when I began to read.

Finally I picked it up and started.  It wasn't at all what I expected.  It was fascinating.  It was understandable, unlike my experiences with the Bible.  It had a story line.  It wasn't just a series of trite phrases telling one how to live.

Going to work and feeding the cattle with my father each day was a chore.  I couldn't wait to get home, shut myself in my room, and read the book.  As I read, I could literally feel the darkness in my head being pushed out by the light the Book of Mormon brought.  I didn't fall in a swoon like Lamoni did, but I experienced the sweet sensations of light dispelling the darkness.

January 9, 1967 I knelt in the center of my room and told Heavenly Father I knew it was all true and that I wanted to be baptized.

I undertook a two-month program to make myself worthy.  I finished the Book of Mormon.  I read the Doctrine and Covenants.  I knocked on the missionaries' door one night and asked to hear their discussions.  "I promise not to give you any trouble," I told them.  "I already know that it's true."

I asked my future father-in-law to baptize me.  He did so on 4 March 1967.

I testify that I caught a rainbow.  I testify that I found the pot of gold, and that the pot of gold was the Book of Mormon.  The light and happiness that it has brought me are worth more than all the other treasures of the world combined.

—17 August 1999