I was intrigued when I heard the talk by Alexander Dushku in the April 2024 general conference.  He spoke of the rays of light that most of us receive versus the explosion and pillar of light that came in response to Joseph's first vocal prayer.

I have contemplated upon my own rays of light.  Elder Dushku recommended that I should gather them into one place.

The answer to my own first prayer felt like an explosion.  I was driving and praying out loud.  I was a lost soul pouring out my heart and my soul, my sins and my hopes, and was pleading for help.  A voice just as real as any audible voice came into my mind.  It simply said, "Everything is going to be all right."

I was so shocked to hear and to feel that message that I was trembling.  I'd never before heard a voice like that.  I quickly pulled over to the side of the road and stopped and shook.  That was the culmination of a 4-hour prayer in which I had simultaneously been following a 4-hour, extremely brilliant rainbow in a gentle rain.  The prayer, the rainbow, the rain, the voice, and the message were all miracles.  So was the beam of sunlight that I was traveling in which enabled the rainbow to keep shining.  I was shaking.

The rainbow left me at that point, but the message stayed.  That was the beginning of my conversion to the gospel of Jesus Christ, and to the incredibly happy and fulfilling 58 years that followed.  "Everything is going to be all right" turned out to be a huge understatement.  Just days later a Book of Mormon was placed in my hands.  That book brought light, knowledge, a testimony, the ability to repent, and a great sense of peace and understanding.  Then came baptism, covenants, opportunities to serve and to learn, and self confidence.  Best of all, these things led to an eternal marriage, and to being entrusted with the care and training of 10 of the Father's most precious spirits.

"Everything is going to be all right" could more accurately have been rendered as "Everything is going to be astonishing," or "Everything is going to surpass your wildest imaginations."

That voice and that experience were an explosion of light.  That explosion has been followed and augmented by many light-filled rays:

1. There was the dream in which scared-to-be-in-front-of-people-me was standing before a congregation and conducting the meeting.  Two weeks later I was doing just that as the newly-sustained second counselor in the Sunday School presidency.
2. There was the careful preparation for my first two church talks, and the realization that with the Lord's help I had done a good job, and would be able to do well as a speaker ever after.  Being rid of that fear was a major turning point in my life.
3. As a septuagenarian there was the voice that came to me as I was standing at the top of a ladder with a hammer in my hand.  The voice said, "You should not be up here."  I climbed down and have not been on a ladder since.  I learned after the fact that the leading cause of accidental death for men over the age of 60 is a fall from a ladder.  I was, and am, grateful for that warning voice.
4. There was the time that I was driving up a steep canyon highway in snowy slush when I saw a car in the rear-view mirror rapidly gaining on me. In that instant I knew something.  I knew that as the car came alongside to pass me that the driver would lose control and crash into my car.  I sped up to keep him from passing, and watched in my mirror as his car began wildly fishtailing and headed up a bank in the deep snow.
5. Just last year I went up into the mountain to beseech God for permission to administer a blessing of healing to my severely crippled 15-year-old granddaughter. She had been in a wheel chair for six or eight months.  I prayed for an hour or two, and nothing happened.  As I walked back home, in the middle of the field, a voice said, "I have already told you that I would honor any blessing that you would leave upon a person."  My son and I blessed the girl, and an hour later she was walking and saying, "It doesn't hurt!"  She has since gone out for soccer.
6. As a bishop with eight children, a farm to run, and while simultaneously holding down a job in town as a finance officer, life became very hard. I went to the temple to seek help.  I did an endowment, sat in the celestial room and prayed, and found no direction.  I did another endowment, sat in the celestial room and prayed again, and a voice came into my mind.  It said, "It is not requisite that a man should run faster than he has strength."  In that instant I knew what to do.  First, I did another endowment as my way of giving thanks for the direction, then went home and quit the job in town.  Life became sweet again.
7. As a bishop I instructed my counselor to set up an appointment with a sister that we were going to call to be our new Relief Society president. That night I couldn't sleep.  I was antsy and upset.  What was wrong?  In the morning I thought, "Maybe we're trying to call the wrong person."  Suddenly everything fell into place.  I told my counselor to not make the appointment.  We went to call the other sister that we'd considered, and she showed us her journal where she'd written about the calling she was soon to receive.
8. As the stake president issued the call to me to serve as the next bishop of our ward, I was too overcome by emotion to speak. I handed him my own journal wherein I'd written where the Spirit told me I would be called.  The Spirit had also told me who the counselors and clerks should be.  The stake president asked for a copy of my entry, and that became my answer to the call.
9. The stake executive secretary called to say that the stake president wanted to pay me a visit. I instantly knew why.  He was going to call me to be stake patriarch!  I was so nervous watching for his arrival the next day that I couldn't sit.  He was surprised when he learned that I already knew the purpose of his visit.  "Do you mean that you knew you were going to be called as patriarch, and didn't even know that Patriarch Bean was moving?"

The Holy Ghost warns us, gives us knowledge, brings things to our remembrance, and tells us things that we should do.

10. There was the sailor in Japan that my friend and I gave three missionary discussions to before his ship pulled out. In the next six months I gave him not one thought.  He was not a golden contact, and I never expected to ever see him again.  One night I retired to my bunk and began reading the Book of Mormon before going to sleep.  I couldn't concentrate, and no sleep was forthcoming.  Instead, the sailor, Bill, was front and center in my mind.  I could think of nothing else.  There was nothing that I could do but to get up, get dressed, and go see if his ship had come into port.

It was there.  I spent the better part of an hour searching that unfamiliar cruiser literally from stem to stern trying to find Bill.  I finally located him in a dirty cubby hole clear up in the bow of the ship.  He looked terrible.  He was greatly surprised to see me.  I said, "Bill, I went to bed a while ago, and the Holy Ghost told me to get up and come find you.  Tell me why I'm here."

"Well," he said, "if you must know, I'm sitting here trying to figure out the best way to commit suicide."

"Bill, the fact that I'm here is evidence that the Lord knows what you're thinking, and does not want you to do that."

A long conversation followed in which Bill cheered up and promised to never again entertain such thoughts.

Counting the event that first introduced me to the Lord, I've listed 11 wonderful rays of light of which I've been the recipient.  I could list more.  Suffice it to say that I am unspeakably grateful for the gospel of Jesus Christ and for the gift of the Holy Ghost.  The rays of light that have come from that Source constitute a pillar that I hope can never be toppled.

Addendum:

I guess that I'm not finished.  Elder Dushku said the following, which causes me to have further remembrances which need to be included here.  He said:

"The reality and power of one ray of testimony reinforces and combines with another, and then another, and another.  Line upon line, precept upon precept, here a ray and there a ray—one small, treasured spiritual moment at a time—there grows up within us a core of light-filled, spiritual experiences.  Perhaps no one ray is strong enough or bright enough to constitute a full testimony, but together they can become a light that the darkness of doubt cannot overcome."  (Liahona, May 2024, 16).

I've heard the still, small voice of the Spirit at other times besides those I've already mentioned.  I will continue the numbering of those treasured episodes.

11. A sister asked me to administer a priesthood blessing to her hospitalized, comatose mother. With the help of the missionaries I did so.  I struggled.  I stuttered.  I sought desperately in my mind to find the words to say.  Everything came out garbled and incoherent.  It was hugely embarrassing.  When I'd finished, the daughter looked at me and said, "So what did that mean?"

I shrugged, and fled.  As I drove away from the hospital I berated myself, and wondered what was wrong with me.  Had I committed some sin?  Where was the Spirit?  I was not yet a mile from the hospital when a voice came into my mind.  I can still show you the exact spot.  The voice said, "I have no blessing for that woman."

Suddenly I understood.  Priesthood blessings are given by the Spirit through the Lord's authority.  We priesthood holders may think we're the source of the blessings, but we're not.  I knew that comatose woman.  She was apostate, bitter, had taken her fine sons out of the Church, and had nothing good to say about her leaders.  That experience was hugely instructive.

12. I was giving a temple recommend interview to a man in a neighboring ward when, in the middle of the interview, the Spirit plainly said, "This is Debbie's husband." It took my breath away.  I could hardly continue the interview.  Debbie was my wife's niece.  She was a wonderful, worthy, single mother of two.  She had struggled in that condition for eight, long years while also serving as an early-morning seminary teacher and Relief Society president.  The man I was interviewing was also a wonderful, worthy, dedicated disciple of Jesus Christ.  He was in the midst of divorce proceedings, so I couldn't tell him about the voice that had spoken to me.  However, when his divorce became finalized I was able to introduce him to Debbie.  They have been very happily married now for nearly 30 years.
13. I was asked to speak in my ward on the "value and sanctity of women." No thoughts were forthcoming.  As I retired to bed on the night before I was to speak, I still had no idea what I was going to say.  I knelt beside my bed and asked that direction would come in the night for what I was to say.  In the middle of the night I awoke as that familiar voice fired off a one-liner.  (I've noticed that the voice of the Spirit is most often a one-liner—never anything complicated, but easily understood, and straight to the point).  It said, "The reason you have the family you have is because of your stay-at-home wife."  Having that starting point my whole talk fell into place within minutes.
14. Glen May spoke at my baptism. He was a quiet, older man for whom I had a deep respect.  His way of greeting me at church was to quietly come up beside me, put his arm around my middle, and grip my side until I would almost cry out.  His wife died.  I spoke at her funeral.  Glen moved to a neighboring state to be with his daughter.  I never saw him thereafter, and rarely thought of him for the next 10 years.

One morning, shortly before I awoke, I had a dream.  Glen gave me that old, familiar hug, and gripped my side.  I arose from bed an hour later, and the phone rang.  It was the bishop announcing that Glen May had passed away, and would I be willing to speak at his funeral.  Of course I was honored to be able to do so.  As I spoke there I mentioned the hug I'd received from Glen the morning of his passing.  To my surprise and delight, four or five people came to me afterward to tell of their own hugs they'd received from Glen that morning.  One was a hug given to his daughter in Washington, D.C. who was unable to attend her father's funeral because of the temple mission she was serving with her husband.

15. Which reminds me about Leonard. Leonard had the care of his invalid wife who occupied a hospital bed in the middle of their living room.  There was a crane above her bed which he could use to move her, bathe her, and care for her.  It was very moving to see how tenderly he cared for her.  She had not had time after her conversion and baptism to go to the temple to receive the temple blessings  that her husband had already received.  Following her death, Leonard moved to another city.  I hadn't thought of him for years, but early one morning he came to me in another dream, and requested that I would do some things for him.  When I arose, the phone rang.  It was the bishop asking if I'd known this man who had just passed away.  I told him what I knew about him.  He thanked me, and hung up.  I could have told him then that I was supposed to speak at Leonard's funeral, but he had to call back to make the request.  It was in April before tax day.  The bishop was a busy accountant with a pile of looming deadlines, so I asked if I could take the whole funeral off his hands.  He was effusively grateful.

I knew that Leonard had been endowed, so I obtained temple clothing, and got a brother to help me dress the body.  His non member children were in another state.  They were grateful that I'd dressed him in white, because that had been his request.  They sent me $100 which offset the $70 I'd spent on the clothing.  That's one of only two times that I accepted payment for my church services.

I wrote to Church headquarters about Leonard and Eunita, explained what Leonard had requested in the dream that I'd do for him, and received permission for my wife to do Eunita's temple work, and for us to then have them sealed for eternity.

16. Then there was Gail. Gail was a convert to the Church who liked nothing better than to be hiking by herself in the mountains.  Gail was a good member, but was nervous and on edge when in a crowd.  She obtained a beautiful apartment in a building with a good view of the mountains, and became a recluse.  She passed away in her 60s all alone.  Her two children felt guilt at the lack of attention that they'd given her, but it was her wish to be as she was.  I was asked to speak at her funeral.  What was I to say that would honor her while also giving comfort to those who loved her?  Absolutely nothing came to mind.  The morning of the funeral found me riding on a load of hay being pulled by my son as we went to feed his cattle.  I was pondering about what I would say just two hours hence.  A thought came into my mind that Gail in her apartment was just like a butterfly metamorphosing in its cocoon.  She was safe there, wrapped in safety, and was where she wanted to be as she metamorphosed from the beautiful woman that she was into the beautiful daughter of God that she was to become.  A voice in my mind said, "That's right.  What kind of butterfly was she?"  I answered, "Not a showy swallowtail, and not a Monarch that goes around in flocks.  No, she was like one of those little, solitary, bright blue butterflies that you see in alpine meadows going about their own business."  The voice said, "That's right.  Tell the people."  At the funeral I told of that message and my experience, and again, five people came up to tell me about the blue butterflies that they found on her sympathy cards, on her jewelry box, and elsewhere.  It was confirmation that I'd gotten the right message.
17. Vernon was a young soldier serving in Vietnam during the conflict there. I was a sailor stationed on a drydocked ship in Japan.  Whenever a serviceman was injured in Vietnam, he was sent to the big military hospital in Yokosuka where I was serving.  If the man was a member of the Church, he would tell the hospital chaplain that he would like to see a member of the Church.  The chaplain would contact my branch president, the branch president would tell me, and I would get a companion to visit the man with me so that we could give him a priesthood blessing.  When Vernon arrived at the hospital I couldn't find a companion, so I went alone.  I found his bed empty.  He had just been sent to surgery.  I had the temerity to go knock on the surgery room door, explained who I was, and was admitted.  I didn't want the man to go through surgery without a priesthood blessing.  With the doctors and nurses standing around observing, I administered the blessing, then sat and held his hand through the surgery.  I went to visit Vernon the next day.  He said, "I want to tell you a story.  One night in the bush I had a dream.  I was severely wounded, and sent to a hospital in Japan.  I was sent to surgery, and a knock came at the door.  A man entered, administered a priesthood blessing, and then sat and held my hand through the surgery.  You're the man that I saw in the dream."  It touched me deeply to know that the Lord knew who I was.  Vernon continued, "And I'll tell you what will happen next.  I'll be sent to a hospital in Bremerton, Washington near my home.  I'll try to call my parents, but no one will be home.  The next time I try to call, my sister will answer, and she won't know who it is."

Vernon's bed was again empty when I went to visit him the next day.  I was informed that he'd been flown to Bremerton, Washington.

18. I was down in a wide, deep hole connecting irrigation pipes. Above me, in a backhoe, was my son.  I couldn't see him, and he couldn't see me.  The boom of the backhoe reached down into the hole, and the bucket of the backhoe was close by my head.  My son barely touched a control, and the bucket of the backhoe slammed into my head, sending me flying to the far side of the hole.  I picked myself up, and shook my head in amazement.  My skull should have been fractured.  I should have been knocked unconscious.  I should have had a concussion or at least a headache.  There was nothing.  I had just been set apart as an ordinance worker in the temple, and I was sure at the time that that was why I was protected.
19. I was again helping my son with his irrigation business. I was up on the bed of the trailer of a semi truck.  My job was to jerk the heavy tires of a pivot to the edge of the truck bed, and to throw them to the ground in an upright position where my son and the truck driver would catch the rolling tires and steer them into a pile.  The tires each weighed two or three hundred pounds , and were difficult to move.  I grabbed the treads of the last tire, and gave a mighty jerk to get it moving toward the edge of the trailer.  My gloves slipped off the slick rubber of the tire, and the force of my jerk sent me sailing out into space off the bed of the trailer.  Time slowed way down as I was spinning there in the air.  There was enough time for me to be conscious of three things:  First was a voice which said, "It's important that you keep your limbs tucked in."  (I pulled my arms in close to my sides).  The same voice then said, "It's important that you land on your back."  (I had no idea what my position was in the air, so I just hoped that I was positioning myself correctly).  Thirdly, I was intently listening to see what bones would break, for they surely would.

My son and the truck driver observed the whole episode.  My son later said that he didn't know that his father was so athletic.  He said that I turned a perfect somersault in the air and gently laid down on the ground like I was going to go to sleep.  I stood up, affirmed that I was all right, and the truck driver murmured to my son, "That's a tough old bird!"

20. I was doing family history research on my Barrows line. It was all original research from the present back to about 1800.  From there back another 200 years the work was all done.  Out of curiosity I paged through generation after generation to see how far back the work went.  It went back to the early days of the Plymouth Colony in Massachusetts, and from there back into England.  I then looked at the source material, which was church records of the Plymouth Colony.  I noticed that one family had two babies named Anne.  A common practice in those days was to use the name again if a baby died.  That was the case in this family.  Little Anne Barrows died before reaching her first birthday.  A later baby was also given the name Anne, and this one lived to adulthood.

I flipped over to New Family Search to see if the temple work had been completed for the family.  Everything was completed, except that only one Anne was listed.  The birth date shown was that of the first baby Anne, and the death date was that of the adult Anne.  The original researcher had not realized that there were two babies named Anne.

It came over me very powerfully that baby Anne Barrows had been overlooked and forgotten, was the only member of the family that hadn’t been sealed, and that she very much wanted that work to be done.  I also realized that probably never again would any researcher happen to look at the records in the way that I had, and that, therefore, no one would ever realize that this little girl had been overlooked.  I straightened out the mixed up birth and death dates, prepared the name, and saw to it that Anne was sealed to her parents.

I was aware that I had done something very significant.  After 300 years this little girl had finally been sealed to her family.  I was aware that I’d been guided to discover this oversight, probably by Anne herself; and that I’d brought great joy, not to a baby, but to an adult person who was very much aware of me and of what I was doing.  It was probably not happenstance that I’d looked at the records the way I did.  There was guidance from the unseen world.

There you have the explosion that was the beginning of my testimony, followed by 20 rays of light that continue to bolster my testimony.

Addendum to the addendum:

I keep thinking of other experiences that need to be recorded.  I wonder if I can find another ten.

21. On our mission in Vanuatu, we managed to lose not one, but two, items belonging to a missionary. One was a flash drive that he'd given me on which I downloaded four general conferences.  The other was the spare key to his apartment which was in my custody.  I reasoned that the key had been lost in our pickup, and that the flash drive had followed my camera out when I pulled it from my pocket.  In the dark Marjorie and I thoroughly searched for both lost items, without success.  We went to bed.

At 5:20 in the morning I came awake, had my prayer, prayed to be able to find the lost items, and felt impressed to go look for them right then.  I went to our pickup, decided to shake out the floor mats, and there was the missing key under the floor mat.  It happened almost that fast.  I then drove to the spot where I'd taken a picture of  a flowering tree, and decided that I had probably been standing right about there to get the angle that I wanted.  I looked down at the ground, and the first thing I saw was the flash drive lying on its side in a small hollow in the grass.  I didn't dare offer a prayer of thanks for the quick answers to my pleading, or I'd have burst into tears.  I was back in our flat by 6:00, where I knelt and gave thanks.

22. Our son, Eli, borrowed a wildlife book from his art instructor. On the first day back to school after the Thanksgiving vacation, Eli needed to have the book for his art lesson after school.  He couldn't find it, and asked me to locate it, and bring it when I would pick him up after school.  I searched the entire house, looking under every bed, in every bookcase, and in every likely and unlikely place.  I finally had to give up, but it bothered me.  After lunch I decided to try again, with the same result after an hour of hunting.  I thought to myself, "This one is going to require prayer."  I knelt by Eli's bed, explained the dilemma, and said, "Thou knowest where the book is.  Eli needs it.  Please show me where it is."

I stood up, walked around the end of his bed. idly reached my hand out to a picture of Christ that was leaned against the wall on top of his chest of drawers, pulled the picture toward me, and there was the missing book standing behind the picture!  Having arisen from my knees, to moving the picture, had taken less than 30 seconds.  I let the picture go back to leaning against the wall, knelt again beside Eli's bed to thank Heavenly Father for the quick answer to prayer, and began sobbing instead.

23. On our mission in Vanuatu I was asked to go to the hospital and administer a priesthood blessing. I found an old, comatose woman in a bed surrounded by eight worried family members rubbing her feet and trying to open her eyes.  She was totally unresponsive.  She looked dead, and I had little doubt but what she would be in a very short time.  Nevertheless, a young, prospective missionary and I laid our hands upon her head, and gave her a blessing.  I found myself telling the woman that she would be healed.  I was surprised, as well as more than a little doubtful.

Following the blessing, I stepped back and surveyed the situation.  “Where is the doctor?” I asked.

“No doctor, just a nurse,” I was told.

I stepped outside, and called Dr. Wang, my Chinese friend.  “A friend of mine is in the emergency room in very bad shape, and there is no doctor here,” I said.

“I come now!” he replied.  Three minutes later Dr. Wang swept into the room, quickly surveyed the situation and said commandingly, “Emergency!  Malaria!  Quinine!”

I watched as the medicine was administered, and then my companion and I left.  The next day I was afraid to ask about the woman’s condition for fear that she had died, but my wife asked the woman’s friend about her.  The friend replied matter-of-factly, “Oh, five minutes after Elder Kerns left, she sat up, and went home.”

Dr. Wang wanted the woman to return to the hospital the next day for a follow-up treatment.  We went to the woman’s house to pick her up.  I was astounded when a 30-year-old, smiley, happy, nursing mother came out of the house carrying a baby, and climbed into our pickup.

Was the miracle a result of the power of the Priesthood, the efficacy of the quinine, or did it lie in the fact that I knew Dr. Wang?  Any one, and all three, of those things were miracles.

24. An 11-year-old boy with a broken leg is another miracle.  Both bones were severely broken just above the ankle.  The accident happened one week earlier while he was playing soccer.  David Ruben was to be flown to the capital city the next day to have the bones pinned, and to be put in traction for six months.  He was in pain, but his personality was such that there was no repressing his smile.  My heart went out to him.  I don’t recall anything about the priesthood blessing that he received, except that I knew all would be well.

He said later that his leg felt different after the blessing.  It was decided the next day that the trip to the capital for an operation would not be necessary.  On the following day his leg was put in a cast.  The next day, David was given an x-ray.  The Australian doctor who read the x-ray couldn’t believe what he was seeing, and ordered a second one.  The bones were perfectly aligned, and were already knitting.  “This is a miracle,” he said, “and I can’t explain what’s happened.  I’ve never seen this in my 22 years of being a doctor.”

“It was the priesthood blessing,” David’s mother told him.

“Do you belong to this Church?” the doctor asked.

“No, but I’m going to be baptized just as soon as I can,” she replied.

The cast was left on David’s leg for six weeks during which time he and his mother were taught the gospel, and he and I became fast friends.  Two days after the removal of the cast, he walked down into the baptismal fount where I had the privilege of baptizing him.  His mother had to wait a week for her own baptism because David insisted that he must be the first.

25. In Vanuatu Marjorie had been plagued for weeks with an itchy rash that was spreading up both legs. Nothing she did was able to stop the rash’s progress or alleviate its irritation.  It was becoming so severe that I could see that it would potentially affect our ability to continue our mission.  So I prayed about it.

In the middle of that night, in a dream, I saw myself bathing Marjorie’s legs with vinegar.  The next morning I told her about my experience.  She began washing her legs with vinegar, and the result was an almost immediate healing.  There is no earthly reason why this solution to her problem would have come to me, except that it was revealed by the Holy Ghost.  We have since learned that vinegar is the remedy that many dermatologists use for fungal diseases of the skin.

26. The chief of a remote village came to Luganville, Vanuatu to be baptized. I expressed my wish to visit his village.  I particularly wanted to make the hour-long trek through the bush to his village, and to cross the quaint, narrow, bamboo bridge that spans the deep gorge made by the Sarakata River.  The chief promised to meet us at the bridge so that he could help Marjorie across.  In the middle of the night, in another dream, I was told that neither Marjorie nor I was to cross that bridge.

 

Several days later we stood at one end of the bridge, and the chief stood at the other.  He shouted at us to cross to his side.  Twice I said, “No.”  He was insistent as he urged us the third time.  I shouted back, “Tabu Spirit bin telem mi se no crossem bridge ia.”  (The Holy Ghost told me not to cross this bridge).

That was all it took.  He accepted that without question.  We got to the village another way, and were treated like dignitaries.  It was one of the most memorable events of my life, and particularly so because of the unmistakable message given to me by the Holy Ghost.

27. Sister Yunack worked at the hospital in Luganville, Vanuatu.  Her husband had been a physician, but passed away.  She walked perhaps two miles to work each day.  One evening I was summoned to give her a priesthood blessing because she had lost the ability to walk.  After the blessing, she struggled, and rose to her feet.  She wanted me to see her standing as I left.  She had faith that she would be healed.  The next day she walked to work.
28. I was in a hurry to get to work one morning. I had a lot to do.  The job I wanted to do required my tractor, which was hooked to the baler.  As I got on the tractor a voice in my head seemingly said, "You forgot to have your prayer."  I silently answered, "I will. Later."  The message came a second time as I drove to the place where I was going to unhook the baler.  I again answered, "I will.  Later."  I backed the baler into its position, jumped off, unhitched the baler and hydraulic lines, and got back on the tractor.  The voice came again, and said, "This would be a good time to have your prayer."  I mentally answered, "I will.  Right now."

I climbed down off the tractor, and knelt beside it.  As I prayed, the voice said, "You forgot to put the jack under the baler hitch.  When you pull forward, the tongue will crash to the ground and be badly bent."  I was shocked when I heard that, because I had never, ever forgotten to do that, but I didn't even have to open my eyes to know that was so.  Then the voice said, "You left a wrench on the fender of the tractor.  As you drive away, it will fall off and be lost."  Again, I didn't have to even open my eyes to know that was so.  I finished my prayer, thanked the Lord for the reminders, put the jack under the baler, got back on the tractor, and the voice said, "Bishop, you have a lot of people in your ward who also didn't have their prayers this morning.  You need to tell them about your experience."

29. I was baling hay in the upper field. I was either racing the weather, or had a deadline looming, and was in a great hurry to get the job done.  That's when the strings of the bales began to break.  My memory is that I worked for an hour trying to figure out the problem.  I adjusted the tension of the strings, tinkered with the mechanisms, read the manual, and nothing worked.  Every bale broke.  Finally I knelt in prayer.  During the prayer my mind went to a screw to which I'd given no attention.  Finishing the prayer, I adjusted the screw, and was back on the tractor successfully baling hay in just two minute's time.

Conclusion

Counting the pillar of light with which I started this article, I have now detailed 30 personal, spiritual experiences.  I think I could go on and on, but am going to force myself to stop here.  I will end by quoting Quentin L. Cook from the April 2024 general conference:

"On the recent cover of a major university alumni publication (Stanford University), a prominent biologist-professor asserts, 'There's no such thing as God, ... There's no free will, and this is a vast, indifferent, empty universe.'"

That prominent professor would be shocked to know that to some of us, he sounds ignorant in the extreme.

Addendum to the addendum to the addendum

     Having read the foregoing to Marjorie and Ivy, they reminded me of other experiences which they say that I need to add:

31. We have many promises concerning future scripture that we have not yet been given. I have desperately wanted them.  I am looking forward to their release.  I was once praying to have them.  I told my Father in heaven that I had already read all of our Standard Works many, many times, and that I was ready for more.  A voice, as clear as anything, said, "You have enough."  To which I responded in my mind, "Oh.  You're right!  I have enough to get me to where I want to be.  I'm satisfied."
32. Matt came home from his college class, and said, "The professor says that he'll give five extra points to anyone who can tell him where it says in Shakespeare, "A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse." (This was in the days before Google and the Internet).  We had the complete works of Shakespeare, so we thought it would be easy to find the quotation.  All we'd have to do was to find a story about a king.  We discovered, however, that Shakespeare wrote many stories about kings.  Finding that quote would be impossible.  We quit looking.

The next morning I was up early to prepare a seminary lesson.  There on the floor beside me was that 3-volume collection of the writings of Shakespeare.  It was all in fine print.  I prayed, and said, "Matt would like to know where to find this quote.  Thou knowest where it is.  If it is important, would Thou show me where to find it?

I thoughtfully chose the middle volume, opened to a page, and read a synopsis found thereon.  It was kind of interesting, so I kept reading, flipped a page, and found King Richard III in the midst of a battle.  His horse had just been shot out from under him.  He was on foot, and shouting, "A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse."

At the supper table that evening, I told about my experience.  Nathan said, "I'm surprised he reads that stuff."

"Who," I asked, "the professor?"

"No, Heavenly Father."

The moral of the story is that our Father in heaven not only knows everything, but that He is interested in the smallest of the details of our lives.  All we have to do is ask, and He'll respond.

33. For a long time after being called to be a stake patriarch, I asked myself, "Would I even know if a person wasn't from the tribe of Ephraim?" Most members of the Church are.  One day a girl walked into my blessing room, and the thought went through my mind that she might not be from that tribe.  I couldn't think what the name of that tribe was.  I wanted to go through the names of the tribes in my mind, but couldn't because I was having to visit with the family.  I placed my hands upon the girl's head, and heard myself declare her to be of the tribe of Reuben.  I thought, "Yes!  The system works! "  I couldn't have come up with the word "Ephraim" if I had tried.  The girl had been born in eastern Europe, which might explain why her lineage was different than most."
34. Perhaps my most meaningful revelation was received a month or two before I was baptized. As a 6- or 8-year-old boy, my mother told me about God and Jesus Christ.  I distinctly remember wandering around the field west of our house pondering upon what she'd told me.  I wondered if God and Jesus Christ were one person, or two, or not persons at all.  I was perplexed.  I couldn't sort it out.  Neither can most everyone else in the Christian world.  I gave it up, but I kept wondering.  I was excited when I was given a Book of Mormon because I was finally going to be able to answer my lifelong question.  I soon learned, however, that the answer isn't in the Book of Mormon, either.  Halfway through my reading of the book, Marjorie sent me a pamphlet entitled, "Joseph Smith's Testimony."  There I read about his first vision.  Two Beings appeared to him.  One pointed to the other and said, "Joseph, this is my beloved Son.  Hear Him!"  When I read that, lights came on.  I knew that Joseph was telling the truth.  There was my answer!  Everything else suddenly fell into place.  Everything suddenly made sense.  From that point on everything was plain and understandable.
35. This next experience wasn't mine, but was about me. I was a sailor in the Far East during the Vietnam conflict.  My sister ship had just been captured by the North Koreans.  Its crew was held captive for 400 days.  I didn't know this, but my mother was worried sick about her little boy. being in that dangerous part of the world.  All she could do was pray for me, which she constantly did.  One night her deceased father came, stood by her bed, and told her, "You don't need to worry about Jamie.  He's going to be all right."  She ceased worrying about me.  For my part, I melted when I heard the story, and couldn't wait to do the temple work for my grandfathers, which I did at the first opportunity that I could do it in person.  For my mother's part, that was the big spiritual experience of her life.
36. I wasn't given the Priesthood right after baptism, as is normally the case. Everyone who knew me, including my parents, thought that I was joining the Church for my girlfriend.  That wasn't the case.  I was joining the Church because of my testimony of the Book of Mormon.  My priesthood leaders saw a young man joining the Church for his girlfriend, and who would be leaving for Navy boot camp 13 days later.  What are the chances that such a convert would stay active in the Church?  I wouldn't have given that young man the Priesthood, either.

After 11 weeks of boot camp I returned home on leave.  I was ordained a teacher in the Aaronic Priesthood.  Such a young man should have been ordained a priest, but I think the bishopric still had doubts about my staying ability.  I next became a member of the Pacific Grove Ward in California.  Carlton Darnell was my Young Adult Priesthood adviser.  He saw to it that I was immediately ordained a priest.  It wasn't until the next March that I was interviewed by the bishop and stake president to become an elder.  That was exactly one year from the date of my baptism.

Before my introduction to the Church, I was severely depressed.  It was the most awful period of my life.  As I left my interview with the stake president, I was horrified to find that old depression returning.  It panicked me.  What was wrong?  Was I not worthy to receive the Melchizedek Priesthood?  I began a fast.  I didn't want to be around anyone, so I took a long hike into the hills.  I was desperate.  I was praying.  It was Saturday, and my name was to be presented for sustaining in stake conference the next day.  I couldn't go through with it if I was feeling that way.  There was a baptism scheduled for that Saturday evening for a serviceman that I had helped teach.  I didn't want to go, but because he was my friend, I reluctantly abandoned my solitary hike, got ready, and went.  At the baptism, the man giving the talk on the Holy Ghost mentioned that when Jesus was in the Garden of Gethsemane, the Spirit was taken from Him.  He had to face that horrible ordeal all alone.  When the man said that, I suddenly realized why I had been struggling for the previous 24 hours.  The Holy Ghost had been taken from me so that I could understand the importance of what was going to happen with my ordination, and so that I could plainly see the huge blessing I'd been living with for the previous year in having the constant companionship of the Holy Ghost.  With that realization, the Holy Ghost was back again.  I was suddenly happy, and I've kept that gift close ever since.  I never, ever want to be without that Companion again.

37. Harvey Wilhelm was a soldier in the U.S. Army learning Russian with me at the Defense Language Institute in Monterey, California while we were members of the Pacific Grove Ward. He and I started a Wednesday night gathering where we would show the film, Man's Search for Happiness, and prepare men to be taught by the missionaries.  We invited our friends.  The men were our own age, and were from all four branches of the military.  It was a very fruitful field for missionary labor.  Those young men were all trying to find themselves, and were struggling to figure out their futures.  It was a wonderful time for me as I shared my testimony and helped to teach them.  We baptized 27 of our friends.
38. It was also in the Pacific Grove Ward that I received my first calling. Carlton Darnell and his wife, Ruth, took me under their wing.  Soon after my arrival there, Ruth became insistent that I should meet Shirley Pielstick, the Primary president.  Ruth was her counselor in the presidency.  We were in the foyer of the meetinghouse following sacrament meeting when Ruth brought Shirley and I together.  I thought Shirley Pielstick was the strangest woman I'd ever met.  She extended her hand, took mine, but didn't look at me.  She was looking beyond me.  There was a strange light in her eye.  She didn't acknowledge me at all.  She jerked her hand from mine, turned, and ran down the hall.  Weird.  It wasn't until years later, after I'd received revelations of my own, that I realized what had happened at that encounter.  As we came together, she suddenly knew what to do about her problem Primary class.  The class was composed of seven rambunctious 11-year-old boys who had run off woman teacher after woman teacher.  What those boys needed was a man teacher with whom they could identify and look up to.  I was the man.  Sister Pielstick received that revelation, and ran to find the bishop.  I was sustained to my first calling the very next Sunday.  I was the new Guide Patrol leader.

I didn't know if I was capable of teaching, but with trepidation I agreed to try.  The boys and I loved each other.  They were not the least bit of trouble.  We became very close.  I still remember their names.  When it came time for me to leave Monterey and Pacific Grove the next March, Mike Glade baked a cake, and the boys gave me a surprise birthday party in class.  I will never forget Randy Darnell crying his eyes out as he said goodbye to me as I got in the car to leave forever.  It broke my heart.

39. The scariest and most difficult calling I ever received was to be ward chorister. During my time in the military I had calling after calling, none of them lasting more than a year.  At one point I counted seven callings that I held simultaneously.  The Lord was training me.  Following my marriage, military service, and college years, we were back in the Baker Second Ward.  Bishop Dennis Fuller called me into his office.  It was obvious that I was about to receive a new calling.  Rather unworthily I said, "Bishop, you can't give me a calling that I haven't already had "  He smiled  and called me to be ward chorister.  Ward chorister!  What did I know about leading music?  Absolutely nothing.  The only thing I had going for me musically was that I could carry a tune.  But I also had a musically-inclined wife.  For the next two weeks she and I sat at the piano while she played, and I led the music.  She taught me about beats and patterns.  Getting up in front of the congregation and leading the music that first time was the scariest thing I've ever done, but I did it!  I even started a ward choir, and everyone came.  They knew that I wasn't a music leader, but they supported me.  The first number we performed was Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring.  It was just beautiful.

Being able to lead music is one of the most valuable skills I ever acquired.  Thereafter, when the region's stake presidencies met together, the general authority conducting the meeting would ask for a volunteer to lead the opening hymn.  My hand would be the only one raised.  And for years, as I served in the temple, I was the one who lead the music in our preparation meetings before each shift.  How special is that?  What if I'd turned the calling down?  I might have said, "I can't do that.  I don't know how to lead music."

40. My patriarchal blessing says, "It will be thy privilege to sit in counsel with men in high places and to lift thy voice in defense of Truth ..."

I had the hands of M. Russell Ballard on my head when I was set apart as second counselor in the stake presidency, and was privileged to attend many meetings thereafter which were presided over by general authorities.  As an elders quorum president, I was called upon to extemporaneously speak in the old Provo Tabernacle before it became a temple.  I have also spoken in dozens of other stake conferences.  Scared-to-be-in-front-of-people me, of all people.

41. Ivy's patriarchal blessing says for her to be "mindful of your good parents. And there will come a time that you will be able to return to them the love and help as they have helped you in your life."

Ivy and her family moved in with us 1 July 2024 as her mother was losing the ability to cook due to  the progression of her dementia   Joseph was OK with that.  When he proposed to her, she said, "Yes, but you need to know that I come with baggage."  He took her anyway.  While living here he is working on his master's degree, and fulfilling his student teaching requirement at Baker High School.  They are a great blessing to us, as we are, hopefully, a blessing to them.  That patriarchal blessing was given exactly 21 years before Ivy moved in.  How did the patriarch and the Lord know?

42. Many of my most sacred experiences have taken place as I've done family history research. As I've worked to make the lines of my 3rd great grandparents as perfect as possible, I've come upon many a tangle created by well-meaning researchers who preceded me.  As I've worked to understand what has been done, and as I strive to undo the tangles, I have been aware of unseen help.  Some tangles have taken many hours of work, but I've solved every one, thanks to my unseen helpers.

I was guided to find the parents of Rebecca Lindley, my 3rd great grandmother, though no records exist which directly connect her to them.  I should not have discovered Oliver and Asenath Lindley, but Rebecca guided me to them.  She wanted to be sealed, and that has since been done.

The biggest tangle of all involved my third great grandfather, David Johnson.  Family Search showed his parents, Arthur and Elizabeth, with two separate families.  One was obviously right, and the other showed four boys.  Many researchers had obviously struggled with that, scratched their heads, decided it was undecipherable, and moved on just as I had done many times before.  For many hours I puzzled over the problem until an inner voice pointed out that all four boys in the questionable family had been born in the same year of 1782.  Digging deeper I found that one had been born several states away from where the family lived.  I was able to put him with his proper family, and to delete him from Arthur's and Elizabeth's.  I made similar discoveries about two of the other boys, fixed their records, and was left with David, who appeared in both of the original Family Search families.

It was hugely satisfying to be able to set Rebecca Lindley's and David Johnson's records straight.

43. I should tell about my boot camp experience. I had been a member of the Church just 13 days when I arrived in San Diego for 11 weeks of Navy boot camp.  The other 59 members of the company to which I was assigned were all depressed and griping about the "hole" they'd gotten themselves into.  I, on the other hand, was on cloud nine as we marched around the hot grinder because I was having prayers answered every day.  Everything was new and glorious.  Everyone asked why I was different.  I didn't join in their raucous and irreverent associations during down times.  Instead I stood beside my upper bunk and read the entire New Testament for the first time.  I'm sure that I was the topic of many a discussion as they sat at the benches and tables running the length in the center of our barracks.  Surprisingly, they elected me as the outstanding recruit of the company.  That made it necessary that I be interviewed by the base commander and three other high-ranking officers.  It was their job to select the outstanding recruit from among the 25 companies and 1,500 men that would be graduating in a few days.   Every question they asked me went toward just two things.  One was that I was a farm boy.  The other was that I had joined this Church without my family.  They chose me as the outstanding recruit.  I had to march up to the graduation podium to receive that honor, and had to do it a second time to be presented with the American Spirit Honor Medal.

But even more satisfying was our last Sunday there.  The company commander announced that everyone had to go to church that day.  Anyone who didn't go would have to stay and give the barracks a deep cleaning.  I was one of the few who always went to church.  Twenty-seven of my companions came up to me and asked if they could go to church with me.  I got to march 27 non members to church.

It goes against my principles to end on an unlikely number like 43, but my brain is feeling overworked.  Maybe my memory will eventually find an even 50 experiences that need to be recorded.  Suffice it to say that mine has been a most wonderful life.  I can't begin to express my gratitude for my Savior and for what He has done for me.