Every time I read the Book of Mormon I pause on a particular verse which I find remarkable.  The verse is remarkable in and of itself, but even more so in what it doesn’t say.  Yesterday, as I worked, I pondered on what lay behind that verse.

The verse concerns the prophet Nephi, son of Helaman.  The man was one of the great personalities of the Book of Mormon.  He and his younger brother, Lehi, lived during a time of great wickedness among the Nephites.  Things were so bad that the Lamanites came very near to over-running and destroying the entire Nephite nation.  They ultimately conquered and occupied half of the country.  The Nephites were unable to regain their lands, and resigned themselves to the permanent loss of that half of their nation.

What the government and Nephite army were unable to do with the sword, Nephi and Lehi accomplished with the Word.  The two men began preaching at the city of Bountiful among the Nephites.  They then went to Gid and Mulek “and even from one city to another, until they had gone forth among all the people of Nephi.”  (Hel. 5:16).

They then went among the Lamanites and the many Nephite dissenters who had joined the Lamanites.  Nephite dissenters were always more hardened than the Lamanites themselves, and were virtually impossible to re-convert to the truth.

Nephi and Lehi accomplished a “first.”  “They did confound many of those dissenters who had gone over from the Nephites, insomuch that they came forth and did confess their sins and were baptized unto repentance, and immediately returned to the Nephites to endeavor to repair unto them the wrongs which they had done.”  (Hel. 5:17).

Eight thousand of the Lamanites occupying Zarahemla were converted.  Nephi and Lehi continued preaching throughout the Lamanite’s country.  They were imprisoned by an army in a prison for many days without food.  The Lamanites went to the prison to slay them, but found Nephi and Lehi encircled about by fire.  The resulting experience converted the 300 would-be executioners who joined Nephi and Lehi in preaching to the  people.  The “more part” of the Lamanites were convinced by the preaching, laid down their arms, and voluntarily turned the captured territories back to the Nephites.

“…The Lamanites had become, the more part of them, a righteous people, insomuch that their righteousness did exceed that of the Nephites…”  (Hel. 6:1).

Nephi went home.  In his absence his countrymen had done a rapid flip-flop back to wickedness.  The secret combination of Gadianton overspread the land, and gained “sole management of the government.”  (Hel. 6:39).

Nephi’s “heart was swollen with sorrow within his breast.”  (Hel. 7:6).  His mourning was so remarkable that a crowd gathered on the busy highway by his house to watch him as he mourned and poured out his soul unto God.  The crowd ran and told others, so that a multitude stood there watching Nephi.

When Nephi realized that he had an audience, he stood up and warmly rebuked them for their wickedness.  He condemned them for upholding the Gadiantons.  He warned them of their impending destruction.  He even gave them a sign whereby they could know the truthfulness of his words, which resulted in his arrest, and his being bound and questioned.

When that scene had played itself out, Nephi found himself left alone.  He started home, pondering as he went.  A voice came to him.  It was the Lord commending him for his “unwearyingness” and fearlessness.  (Hel. 10:4, 5).  Power was given to him that whatsoever he said would come to pass, because the Lord knew that Nephi would not ask that which was contrary to the Lord’s will.

And finally, the verse which I find so remarkable:  “And behold, now it came to pass that when the Lord had spoken these words unto Nephi, he did stop and did not go unto his own house, but did return unto the multitudes who were scattered about upon the face of the land, and began to declare unto them the word of the Lord which had been spoken unto him, concerning their destruction if they did not repent.”  (Hel. 10:12).

Nephi didn’t go kiss his wife goodbye.  He didn’t send word that he’d be late for dinner.  He didn’t telephone that business was going to take him away for a while.

What all of these scriptures don’t say is anything at all about the wives and mothers of great men like Nephi.

Nephi did have a wife.  Possibly he was a widower at this time, but we know that he was a married man because he had children.  A short time later he gave the records into the keeping of his eldest son, also named Nephi, marched off like he was going on another mission, and was never heard of again.  The same thing happened to his great grandfather, Alma the younger.  Nephi came from a long line of prophets.  His own son, Nephi, was the prophet when the Lord Jesus Christ visited the Nephites.

My thoughts at work yesterday turned to the women behind these men.  Nothing is said of them.  It’s just like the scriptural silence that surrounds our Mother in Heaven.  They were just as good and just as great as their husbands.  Their role was different.  It wasn’t the men who raised up the prophet-sons who would take their places.

Yes, the scripture states that it was the prayers of Alma the elder that caused the angel to come and straighten out his wayward son.  But you can bet that there were equally fervent prayers being uttered by his mother.

The prayers of the mothers of these men were more heartfelt and more frequent than were the prayers of the fathers.  The fathers were busy being prophets and chief judges and earning livings.  The mothers were busy teaching and correcting, studying their boys, overseeing their development, watching their first steps, helping them with their talks in Primary, disciplining them, showing them how to make right choices, pushing them to become Eagle Scouts, supervising their studies, making them do their homework, teaching them how to pray, taking them to church, building faith, encouraging them in the use of the priesthood bestowed by their fathers.

It was the mothers who raised the future prophets.

It was the women who carried on at home doing all these things for the prophets’ children while their husbands were off on missions, locked incommunicado in prisons, and leading armies in extended warfare.  It was the women who worried day after day not knowing what awful things their husbands were suffering—and yet they had to carry on with the cooking and cleaning and teaching and nurturing.  Anyone who has sat and waited for an overdue child to get home knows how the mind can conjure up all sorts of awful possibilities that may have caused the delay.  In a very real sense it’s often harder to sit and wonder what’s happening than to actually endure the hardship.  Haven’t we all wished we could take the place of the suffering loved-one?

What these faithful women endured we can only imagine.  We know a little of what their husbands went through because we have their journals.  The wives probably kept journals, too, but God has not seen fit to share those with us.  Neither has He seen fit to reveal anything about our Heavenly Mother.

Is that out of reverence for their sacred names and station?  Is it to keep them from being vilified as happened to their husbands and sons?

Certainly their suffering was as severe and their sacrifices as great.  Did not Simeon tell Mary that a sword would pierce her soul as well as her Son?  (Luke 2:35).

Mothers feel everything that their children feel.  Their souls are knit with those of their children.  I’ve seen the mother of my own children sitting up at night, unable to sleep, worrying over a child—often adult children.  She knows when they’re troubled.  She has long conversations with them.  She prays over them.  She counsels them when they don’t know they’re being counseled.  She knows when they’re in danger.  The Holy Ghost tells her.  She becomes restless, and sends help or goes herself to rescue her offspring that is placing himself in harm’s way.

When God wants something done in the world, in His great foresight, He sends a mother who can raise up the leader who will get the thing done.

He sends a faithful Hanna, or a Ruth, Rebecca, Sarah or Mary.  He raises up a Lucy Mack Smith, Mary Fielding, or Rachel Ivins Grant.

Rachel Ivins Grant was a widow from little Heber’s earliest babyhood.  She had a fixation.  Everything she did was done with her boy in mind.  Heber was her fixation.  I can say that with confidence because I’ve observed it in my own wife.  She has absolutely lost sight of herself in the service of her children.

That is what a Saint is.

If in some future century history looks back and says that it was the prophet Nathan, Matthew, Aaron, Adam, Daniel or Eli who took the gospel to Iraq and tamed that nation, it will be his mother who prepared him to do what he did.  Her late-night talks with him, her prayers, and her vigilance over his activities will be the things that place him in the position to be used by the Lord when the Lord calls.

And what reward does she get for shepherding this future servant of the Lord?

She gets sleepless nights, worry, grief, hard work and gray hairs.  She also gets incredible feelings of pride and joy as she sees him grow and accomplish.  As she holds him as a tiny, helpless baby she knows what true love is, and gets an inkling of what the Father feels about us.  No one but a righteous mother can really understand that.

When he has successes in life, they’re better than her own successes.  She glows inside.  Conversely there’s nothing more poignant than a mother’s mourning over her children’s failure.  Swords pierce her soul at those times.

But when she goes to the temple and sees that son kneeling across the altar from his bride, and looks around and sees her other children there with their righteous mates; and when she sees those couples praying over their own children, and holding Family Home Evenings, and worrying over worldly influences that might affect her grandchildren, she knows her life has been worthwhile.  She knows that losing herself in the service of her family is the ultimate use of mortality.  She knows that the rewards of motherhood vastly outweigh any other plaudits the world might give.

She, of all people, comes closest to glimpsing what heaven feels like.