It’s a real privilege to speak to you today.

And it’s an honor for me to address those whose charge it is to care for valiant souls, whose circumstances are often difficult, but whose eternal potential is infinite.

I hope that our time spent here together today can lift all of us as we consider the greatest gift our Heavenly Father has extended to us, His Son.

The often-quoted scripture in John 3:16, “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten son, that whosoever believeth in him shall not perish, but have everlasting life” has a meaning far deeper than a causal consideration of the passage we’ll teach.

What kind of love motivates a father to endure the pain and anguish He endured to offer up His Only Begotten?

What earthly and eternal perspective does He have that engenders such love for us?

What blessings does He desire so intensely for us?

Perhaps we should consider the full breadth of the Savior’s atonement to help us understand the simplicity, complexity, and infinite nature of a Father’s love.

There are some key phrases describing the power of the Savior,

His grace and His atonement in our lives.

Please consider the following, “their souls did expand and they did sing redeeming love”, “exquisite and sweet as

was my joy”, “succor His people”, “pray unto the Father with all the energy of heart that ye may be filled with this love purified even as He is pure”, and “kindness and pure knowledge, which shall greatly enlarge the soul without hypocrisy and without guile”.

Each of these phrases, and many others, describe blessings extended to us

eternal children of a loving Heavenly Father through His loving obedient Son, our Savior and Redeemer.

In order to better understand this relationship between the Father and the Son, let us consider Mosiah 15:6-9.

“After all this, working many mighty miracles among the children of men, he shall be led, yea, even as Isaiah said, as a sheep before there shearer is dumb, so he opened not his mouth.

Yea, even so he shall be led, crucified and slain, the flesh becoming subject even unto death, the will of the Son being swallowed up in the will of the Father.

And thus God breaketh the bands of death, having gained the victory over death; giving the Son power to make intercession for the children of men.”

Brothers and sisters, to make intercession, not only means to satisfy the claim of justice, but also to interceded in our lives.

Not only to help us endure this life, but become changed,

different, and sanctified.

Verse 9, “Having ascended into heaven, having the bowels of mercy; being filled with compassion towards the children of men; standing betwixt them and justice; having broken the bands of death, taken upon himself their iniquity and their transgressions, having redeemed them, and satisfied the demands of justice.” Being filled with compassion is far different than empathy or sympathy.

The etymology of the word defines compassion as suffering with.

Being filled with compassion means being moved to suffer with.

Second Nephi 25:23 teaches us “that it is by grace that we are saved after all we can do”.

We speak of redemption and salvation.

This is an eternal grace that is offered by the Savior through His infinite atonement to all who repent and come unto Him.

It is only through, and by Him, that man can be saved.

However, this does not fully describe the entirety of grace offered us by the Savior.

And infinite atonement is not only eternal, it is all inclusive and complete in helping man to grow, to change, to become redeemable, as well as redeeming man.

In the October 2019 General Conference, Ulisses Soares taught us the following, “Sometimes solutions to certain challenges come after months

and months of continuous effort.

The promise found in the Book of Mormon that it is by grace that we are saved after all we can do is applicable in these circumstances.

Please remember that the Savior’s gift of grace is not necessarily limited in time to after all we can do.

We may receive His grace before, during, and after the time when we expend our own efforts.” Do we consider this when we think of intercession?

There’s a family story that’s been told and retold throughout our family

history, it changes a bit depending upon the teller, and their various motivations for telling the story, like all family stories.

I would like to retell it in as near as I can determine it’s truest and most pure form.

This is the version that came from my grandfather’s lips.

My grandfather was a quiet man, not at all subject hyperbole, and so I suspect that this is the experience as it actually happened.

This has become an allegory of sorts for our family.

The early 1930s was a very difficult time in the United States and Northern Utah

was no exception.

There was very little extra cash to be had and especially amongst the agrarian population common to the area.

My grandmother and grandfather had four children to provide for, and did their very best to help others who were struggling.

They seemed to have enough, and their farm was known as a place where hospitality would be extended under any circumstances.

Many walked miles to enjoy a good breakfast prepared by my grandmother’s rough and tired hands.

No one was ever turned away.

My aunt, second child in the family, desperately wanted a horse of her own.

Not the pony that she had been riding since her very early childhood, but a real full-sized honest to goodness horse.

Her older brother was the proud owner of a beautiful thoroughbred and never missed an opportunity to tease my Aunt Sherma that she was just not, nor ever would be, big enough or strong enough for a real horse.

This annoyed Sherma greatly, as she was quite certain she could do anything

anyone else could do, including, and especially, her brother John.

Unfortunately, her hopes had been dashed over and over again, as there just was not enough money for another horse.

One day an itinerate stockman rode into the yard trailing a small herd of animals headed for the slaughter in Ogden.

These men often stopped at Grandfather’s place just to visit and put their feet under Grandma’s table.

The animals gathered by these men were most often old, worn out, or undesirable

in some way.

They were the castoffs of many farms in the area.

This day and these animals were no different.

As Grandfather’s eye fell upon the motely group a certain sadness came into him.

He was a stockman and he knew and loved animals.

In all my years of watching my grandfather work with livestock I never saw him lose his patience or abuse them in any way.

He especially loved horses.

His eye feel upon the last horse in the string and his sadness increased

as he took pity on the wounded animal.

The horse was covered in mud and his thin hide showed the protruding bones as he stumbled along.

His joints were swollen and his hide was marred with marks of neglect and abuse.

As Grandfather neared the animal he could see open wounds oozing with infection and rotting flesh.

Clearly, this animal may not even be able to survive the remainder of the trip to Ogden.

Instinctively my grandfather approached the animal cradled his drooping head in his arms, rubbed his ears, and whispered softly.

The desperate animal felt the soft vibrations from Grandpa’s chest, much more than heard the breathless sounds of his soothing voice.

Grandpa looked in his mouth, and to his surprise saw that the horse’s teeth indicated that he was certainly not as old as he looked.

My grandpa stepped back and looked at the animal, more dog like than the well-bred draft horses or beautiful thoroughbreds that he preferred, and yet there was something.

Grandpa asked the trader if he knew anything of the horse.

And the man said that all he knew was that the horse was a standard bred trotter, sold off the track in disgrace because he liked to run in a sport that demanded the discipline of trotting.

The animal had been ill suited for any farm work, and after an accident had been sold to the trader.

He had been deemed worthless, destined to be killed.

My grandfather pondered quietly, as was his custom when trying to think something through.

After a minute or so he stuck out his hand and made an offer for the pitiful

animal, and it was immediately accepted.

Most who were aware of the transaction felt Grandfather to be foolish

and perhaps too softhearted.

Grandma may have been the least impressed with this transaction, given the dire nature of the economy and the shortness of essential items around the farm.

She did not appreciate one more horse in their lives, especially this ugly one.

Grandfather was never affected much by what others thought and quietly led the horse to the barn.

He brushed and cleaned the animal and gave it just the right amount of oats and hay.

He treated the wounds, bathing them with cleansing soap and water, then spreading a healing protecting salve over them.

His hand softly and kindly stroked the animal, who shuddered under his touch.

Grandfather found Sherma and invited her to the barn.

He introduced her to her new horse.

He informed her that she would be responsible for the care and keeping of this animal, and that perhaps he should have a name.

Sherma was not impressed.

Even as a child she could easily recognize that this horse would never measure up to the fancy thoroughbred owned by her brother.

In disgust she exclaimed, “He is just a sack of old doorknobs.

I’ll just call him Old Knobby”, as she stormed away.

At dinner that night Grandpa sat quietly enduring a sudden drop in temperature in the room.

Grandma was mad, Sherma was mad, John was snickering, the other kids

were oblivious to the chill in the air.

Grandad was a patient man, he was patient with livestock, and he was patient with his family.

Sherma was coaxed to care for Knobby.

And though the animal improved, the name given in frustration, perhaps disrespect, stuck.

Knobby’s coat began to shine and muscles came back with regular feed and exercise.

Soon he was restored by the love that Sherma began to feel for the animal.

After most of the summer, the talent athleticism and beauty were restored.

Sherma could feel something special about this horse.

Each year as the crisp air settled into the valley and the dust devils of late summer ceased to dance across the field, an important event took place in the community.

The county fair in Tremonton, Utah was a big deal.

The community gathered together, forgetting some of the economic woes of the time, to enjoy the beautiful fall air and some old fashioned fair activities.

One of the most popular events of the fair was the kids’ horse race.

Many of the young men throughout the valley waited all summer for this chance at fame.

Young people of many ages brought their horses to the fair in hopes of winning the small cash prize.

John was no exception, and was certain that his magnificent steed would win the day.

He made this fact well known all around and swaggered about, much to Sherma’s dismay.

Sherma had convinced her mother that it would be okay for a girl to ride in a race that was ordinarily preserved for the boys.

The rules were simple, they would race for three laps, one at a walk, one at a trot, and one at a dead run.

The crowd watched in anticipation as the fun started.

Most paid little attention to Sherma as she fell behind in the first lap.

Knobby’s legs were simply not long enough to keep up with the big thoroughbreds, and of course, John’s was the biggest.

However, when the second lap started the small standard bred started to trot.

A standard bred can trot about 25 miles an hour.

The horse soon left the field behind and created a good margin between himself and the next horse.

And then Knobby’s attention span, as it usually did, was lost, and the third lap started and he started to run.

He was well in the lead and Sherma let the rein down and Knobby took off.

The crowd went wild, including a lady who began to jump and shout, pounding the straw hats of all the men around her as she cried, “Go, girly! Go!” In her excitement she lost her balance, tumbling into the people around her, rocking the grandstands with her kicking and pawing to regain her balance.

Grandad liked that part of the story the best.

Sherma and her “sack of doorknobs” won the race, bragging rights, and the small cash prize.

Grandpa smiled with understanding.

During His ministry the Savior never turned His back on anyone deemed by society to be of no value.

The blind, the lame, the beggars, the soldiers, those who engaged in sinful behavior, all felt His ministering healing hand.

I’m reminded of the woman taken in adultery, what did He see?

Did He see a worthless creature, perhaps beat up and overcome by life?

Or did He see a child of God full of potential?

He invited her to repent and sin no more. Why?

So that she could receive all the blessings of eternity and know

exquisite joy.

What does He see in us?

As we struggle to come unto Him bearing all kinds of faults and frailties of

humanity, do we not feel the gentle touch of His healing hands?

The soft comforting whispering to our wounded souls?

I testify, brothers and sisters, that He can look beyond our faults, our sins, our insecurities and weaknesses, and see us as children of a loving Heavenly Father.

He can see beyond open wounds and rotting flesh.

He can see us in the fruits of His suffering.

What does that mean?

Brothers and sisters, my father was an old Montana cowboy and I learned great things from him and we were partners for most of his life.

He was an interesting man, he could speak “Montana French” pretty well and could be subject to all of the frailties of humankind.

Yet he loved the Lord,

and his desires were to be what he could be.

I watched him, and over the years the language softened until it was no longer objectionable to my mother, which is a high standard.

He softened, he changed.

The grace of the Savior was so apparent in his life,

and when he died he died full of joy and happiness.

The Savior can see our potential for exaltation.

I testify, He can pull back the shroud that covers our hearts and see who we really are.

His love is evident in His invitation, “Come unto me, all ye that

labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” What does the Savior see in us?

What unrealized potential makes Him willing to intercede in our daily lives

and the struggles that we face?

What does our Heavenly Father want for us?

Reflect again on the phrases.

The Savior’s concern for the afflicted did not end with His earthly ministry, nor does He consider us to be limited by the difficulties we face.

His mission was not to bring us back into the presence of the Father in the same state as we left, unaffected by this earthly experience.

But rather, changed, having overcome this experience being truly redeemed

and atoned for.

I testify that the love He has for us is infinite.

One day we will understand it fully.

His love for us is the glory of God.

I say these things in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.