The Still Small Voice

It is amazing how the spirit communicates with us. It is not a loud voice, but one that is still and small. Sometimes, if you are not completely still and listening for it, you will miss its message to you. When it comes, we may brush it off as wishful thinking, or doubt that it is really the spirit speaking. But if you listen with your spiritual ears and an open heart, it will teach, warn and train you.

To illustrate the importance of listening to those quiet subtle feelings, Elder Boyd K Packer tells this story:

In the early days of their marriage my father and mother lived on a little farm at Corinne. It was very difficult to raise crops, so they were very poor.

One morning, my father had to go into town. He had broken a piece of farm equipment and it had to be welded before he could continue planting. He came to the house and told Mother he must go to the blacksmith in Brigham City, a distance of seven miles. Although Mother was in the middle of doing the weekly washing, she quickly made arrangements to go with him, for it was not often that she could go to town.

On the cook stove in the kitchen she had been heating water for the washing. She also had a kettle of water heating on top of a little stove in the bedroom. While she set her washing things aside, banked the fires, and quickly got the little children ready for the trip to town, she thought of all the things she could do while Father was at the blacksmith's.

In the meantime Father harnessed the horse and brought the buggy to the front gate. Mother hurried out with the children and lifted them into the buggy. As she began to climb into the buggy herself, she hesitated a moment and then said, "I think I won't go with you today."

"What's the matter?" Father asked.

"I don't know," she answered. "I just have the feeling that I shouldn't go."

When she said feeling, that meant something to my father. He was wise enough not to tease her or try to talk her out of it. He simply said, "Well, if you have that feeling, perhaps you had better stay home."

As she lifted the children out of the buggy, you can imagine what they did!

She watched Father as the buggy went down the road then clattered across the bridge over the Bear River, up the bank on the opposite side, and out of sight. She stood at the gate with the children, who were crying in disappointment, and said to herself, "Now, wasn't that silly of me?"

She returned to the little house with the thought of finishing the washing.

I should tell you that that was a very humble home. The ceiling was not wood or plaster, but was made of cloth stretched and sized with glue and then wallpapered. They did that in homes in those days-not in the expensive homes but in the very humble homes.

The chimney pipe of the little stove in the bedroom was insulated with a brass ring at the point where it went through the fabric ceiling. No one knew that above the ceiling the pipe had rusted through. Now, sparks had escaped into the attic and settled into the dust. Mother had been back in the home only a few minutes when she smelled smoke and found the ceiling afire.

The little youngsters formed a bucket brigade from the pump. Mother stood on a chair and threw the water to the ceiling, and soon the fire was out.

And so the incident closes, except to ask the very important question: Why didn't she go to town that day?

Father and Mother had prayed earnestly that the Lord would bless them to be able to raise their family-feed them, clothe them, and provide shelter for them. They had been saving money to pay for their farm, and their savings were hidden away in that little house. All they owned was somehow centered in that humble home. To lose it would have been a great tragedy.

This little Danish mother of mine had prayed many times that they might be blessed. On that day her prayers were dramatically answered.

Again the question: Why did she not go to town that day?

She did not hear an audible voice saying, "Emma, you'd better not go to town today, I'm going to answer your prayers." Nor did a written message descend from which she could read, "Emma, you'd better stay home today." She stayed home because of a feeling; a still, small voice had spoken to her. She told my father, "I just have the feeling that I shouldn't go."

It was a great lesson my little Danish mother taught us.

Listen. Listen. Listen. Open your ears to hear, and the spirit will speak to you. He will guide you. He will teach you. He will protect you.

"... I will go before your face. I will be on your right hand and on your left, and my Spirit shall be in your hearts, and mine angels round about you, to bear you up." (D&C 84:88)

Love, Dad