“How Could He Have Known?” Ensign, Oct. 1991, 27
How Could He Have Known?
Although I was born into a Latter-day Saint family, my parents were not active in the Church. They did encourage me to go to church, however, and I was an active member during most of my teenage years.
Just after my high school graduation, my parents moved to Alaska. When it came time to begin college at Brigham Young University, I found myself far from my family. I had good college roommates, however, and was so caught up in my new life that I rarely felt homesick. Letters from my parents were plentiful, but they included few of the details of their lives.
I hadn’t been at BYU long when I was called to fill a position in our campus ward. After sacrament meeting one Sunday, those of us who had accepted positions gathered in a large room to be set apart for our new callings.
Brother Beal, a counselor in the bishopric, set me apart. I believe that I had spoken to him once before, but we were practically strangers. He was a kind man with a warm smile, but I didn’t know him and he didn’t know me.
After he set me apart, Brother Beal added a special blessing. When he paused, I thought he was finished, but he continued, and I could feel the powerful influence of the Spirit around us.
He told me that great and important things were happening in my home. He said the blessings of heaven were being poured out upon my family. He told me to humble myself before the Lord and put my life in order so that I might be worthy to receive the great blessing that would soon come to me.
I didn’t have any idea what Brother Beal was talking about, but I was so touched that I cried. As I turned to shake his hand after the blessing, I found that he, too, had tears streaming down his cheeks. Later, I wrote to my family and told them what had happened. My mother never mentioned it in her letters.
In December, I flew to Alaska to spend the holidays with my family. When I arrived, I found that my father had quit smoking and that my parents were active in their ward. Several weeks after I returned to school, my father was ordained an elder in the Melchizedek Priesthood. The following August, our family was sealed for time and eternity in the Ogden Temple.
It was the fulfillment of a priesthood blessing pronounced upon me nearly a year before by a man I didn’t know and who didn’t know me. The Lord knew me, however, and by the power of the Spirit, he had spoken to me through his servant.