“Give Me the Works”

One night thirty years ago, I received a call from Winifred Stobaeus, a woman with whom I had served on the board of the Parent Teacher Association when I had been president of that organization some time before. At that time, I had suggested we start our board meetings with prayer.

Because some felt we had people from many denominations and that someone might be hurt, I had volunteered as a lay person to give the first prayer. Apparently this had impressed Mrs. Stobaeus.

I had not seen her since she had moved out of our neighborhood two years before. But she was distressed that night. She asked if she could see me as soon as possible. Two members of her family were seriously ill, and she felt that if she could unite her whole family in prayer, the Lord would bless the family members and restore their health.

Mrs. Stobaeus told me that when we had moved into their community, all our neighbors had watched us because we were Latter-day Saints and had five children. She said that her father had often called the family to the window to watch as we had loaded our whole family into the car and had gone to church not once but twice each Sunday—this being in the days before the consolidated meeting schedule had been adopted.

When I learned that she had been searching the Bible for answers to her questions, I suggested that I visit her family and tell them something about our church. Later she told me that as she had prayed for guidance, my name had come into her mind. This had happened a number of times, but that night, it was as if I were standing in the room in front of her, and she had gone immediately to the telephone.

Mrs. Stobaeus said she would let me know when she was ready for me to come. Unfortunately, when she called later, I was recovering from an emergency appendectomy and had only one month to prepare for my daughter’s wedding and reception in Salt Lake City. I told her I would come as soon as I returned from Utah.

Shortly after I came home, I was set apart as a stake missionary. I could hardly wait to call her. But when I did, I was disappointed. She said, “It’s too late now. I have been working on my husband for years to join our church. At Christmastime he agreed, and I stood up and sponsored him.”

“Please let me come and tell you something about our church anyway,” I pleaded. She consented, but again told me that it was too late for them to change.

I had never heard a missionary lesson given, but I worked diligently to learn that first lesson, and before leaving home I told my companion, “I’m not going to mention the name of Joseph Smith, because she won’t listen if I do.”

“You have prepared yourself and prayed about it, and I’m sure you will be led to do the right thing,” she replied.

After the prayer, I gave the lesson, which taught about the Godhead. We read together many scriptures from the Bible about God and his appearance to people in all dispensations. The lesson was going beautifully.

But then Mrs. Stobaeus asked, “Have you seen God?”

“No,” I said.

“Do you ever expect to see him?”

“Not on this earth. But if I can live righteously enough, I hope to see him in the celestial kingdom.”

“Can I see him?”

“It wouldn’t be impossible, if you could be righteous enough.”

“You have been telling me what a just God he is and how he has appeared to men through the ages and how he loves all his children. Why doesn’t he show himself in these days, as he did then?” she asked.

I was trapped. I felt a burning in my bosom such as I had never thought possible. I leaned forward in my chair, and with all the surety I had, I told her that God had appeared to a prophet in this dispensation. I told the Joseph Smith story with such conviction that she immediately knew that God had spoken again to man. She could hardly wait to tell her family that she had found what she was searching for.

The next day, Mrs. Stobaeus came to see me. I knew something was wrong. She had driven around the block three times before getting up enough courage to come in. She said that when she had told her family what she had heard, they were very disturbed. Her husband had barely joined her church; now she was looking to join another!

In despair she asked, “Can’t you just teach me the Bible and leave Joseph Smith out of it?”

“I could teach you the Bible, but it wouldn’t be complete without that which has been revealed through Joseph Smith, the Prophet,” I replied.

“I’m sorry,” she said unhappily, “but I can’t upset my family, even though I believe you have what I want.”

I had a sudden thought. “Do you remember the story of the rich young man who came to Christ? When he was told to sell all he had and give it to the poor, he turned away sorrowing because he didn’t have the strength to do it. You are like that young man. You know that what I have told you is the truth and that you can get the answers to all your questions, but you are turning away sorrowing.”

She was silent for a few minutes. “Okay, you win,” she said. “Give me the works.”

She studied and prayed and gained a testimony of the gospel. Later, she told me of a dream she had had that had powerfully reaffirmed the Lord’s love for her. When she attended an LDS ward for the first time, she recognized it as the place in her dream and knew for a surety that it represented the true Church of Jesus Christ.

She went through two difficult years before she was baptized, but she said that her testimony had grown so strong that she had to join the Church. Her husband resisted for years, but finally, after fifteen years, he also entered the waters of baptism. Since then, they have been stake missionaries and have served as ordinance workers in the Washington Temple. They are finding the joy that can come from living the full gospel of Jesus Christ—“the works,” as Sister Stobaeus once called it.

Illustrated by Robert McKay