Chapter 1
Follow, Follow Me—
Prophets, Patriarchs, and Heroes
Scott Anderson
Have you ever driven in the fog? Isn’t that an interesting challenge? How do you stay on the road in the fog? In some states you have help—you have some bumps on the side of the road. When you hit those bumps, you know it’s time to go the other direction. Some other states don’t have any bumps. Oh, they do, but not in the right places—they’re all in the middle of the road and everywhere else.
When driving through snow and fog, what can keep us on the road? The wonderful little white lines. Our lives are a little like driving in the fog. Lehi, sharing a representation of life, said that a mist of darkness comes over us and we need to get through it somehow. Driving along through the fog of life, we learn line upon line. Scriptures, commandments, parents, bishops, and the living prophets all help us learn line upon line.
What about those times when the fog gets really dense and we can see only a few lines ahead? Have you ever been in that much fog? Once I learned a lesson about that while driving to the airport. I was in a hurry. The fog was so dense that the fastest I could go was twenty miles an hour. All of a sudden a huge semi truck went by with its fog lights on. I quickly found that I could go a lot faster following him than I could just traveling on my own. So, I pulled in behind the truck and was able to go forty-five and fifty—just roaring along. My only problem was that I was going to end up wherever he was going.
My mom was driving through the fog one night, going to a study group. She and her friends decided they would follow someone who knew the way because they couldn’t find their way through the fog. Twelve cars were following the lead car. The leader pulled up to a stop sign and turned right. There was another car just like his that was stopped, and it went straight. All twelve cars ended up following the wrong car. As they pulled through the intersection, the driver of the lead car looked in his rear-view mirror and saw twelve cars following him. He pulled into his subdivision, and all the cars turned and followed him. He must have watched too much television, because he decided that the Mafia was after him! He drove around just as fast as he could trying to lose those cars. He sped up, and the twelve cars behind him sped up. They went all around the subdivision until finally the lead driver saw a house with its lights on. Gambling that the people might be home, he decided to run in and call the police. He pulled up next to the house, ran up to the porch, and started to beat on the door. Nobody was home—that’s why they had all the lights on. He was standing there, pounding on the door, and all he could hear was all the cars stopping and footsteps coming through the fog. My mom was one of the first ones through the fog, and she heard him say, “No, no, please don’t kill me.” She came home laughing. They never did make it to the study group.
In our lives, there is someone with spiritual fog lights on. He can see clearly enough to give us exact, careful direction, and we can then understand things we wouldn’t know on our own. He is the living Prophet.
Our prophets see far enough ahead that they remind us to lengthen our stride and quicken our pace. We have so many things to do. I picture the Prophet driving a spiritual Porsche. He travels at about two hundred miles an hour down the freeway of life. He then turns to us and says, “Lengthen your stride! Quicken your pace!” And we’re standing on our skateboards or tricycles saying, “Well, I’m trying. I’m trying.” We need to follow his tail lights, if you will, and, seeing his example, give everything we have to try to stay up with him. If we do this, we are going to be ready for the challenges of life. If we don’t, we’re not. I have strong feelings about the importance of active obedience.
Is it easy to follow a prophet? Has it ever been easy to follow a prophet? I think we need to consider this, because many times in history following a prophet has been a challenge.
Let’s look at an example out of those beautiful books, the scriptures. Once there was a great young man named Gideon. He was probably about your age. The Lord called him to be the Prophet of Israel. He said, “Me? The Prophet?” The Lord assured him that he had great potential. So Gideon worked to strengthen his testimony. He worked to get his own confirmation. Then he received his first assignment. The Lord asked him to go out to a grove, chop down all the trees, and burn down all the idols there. Any of you who have read the Old Testament know that people used to do awful things with these idols in the groves. They had an idol called Moloch and one called Baal. Baal worship included torture and immorality. Moloch was a metal image that would be stoked up until it was red hot like a furnace. The people would sacrifice their little children to Moloch. So, the Lord sent this young man to cleanse the groves. The scriptures say that he took ten of his friends and did as the Lord had commanded. I think that was probably one of the best young adult parties they ever had. They had a big fire and maybe even a cook-out.
The next day, the people from the city went out to worship the idols, but they couldn’t do it any more—which I am so thankful for. A knock came on Gideon’s door, and Gideon’s dad answered it. There stood the people from town, saying, “Bring Gideon out here.” Gideon’s dad said, “Why do you want Gideon?”
“He destroyed our god last night.”
Gideon’s father just looked at them and said, “He did what? My boy? I didn’t know he had that kind of power. You have always told me your god was all powerful. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes. That’s right. Baal is all powerful.”
The father said, “You don’t have to punish Gideon. If he destroyed Baal, certainly Baal will come and get my son.”
They said, “Okay. Baal on your son,” and away they went.
Gideon’s father walked back into the house and said something like, “Put her there, Gideon. Give me five. All right!” Things seemed okay. Baal didn’t seem to be doing anything, and Gideon was fine.
Soon, however, the massive army of the Midianites would come over the mountains to destroy Israel. But the Israelites had a prophet they could follow. Gideon was called to lead them, and this was going to be a big challenge for them. This was really the first time they had ever followed Gideon.
Gideon gathered the biggest army he could—32,000 soldiers to fight an army of 135,000. That is a big army! Imagine that we are Gideon’s army and that tomorrow we’re going over the mountains to fight. There are 135,000 of the Midianites, and there are only 32,000 of us—are you ready? The odds are just four to one—can you handle that?
Gideon said to the Israelites, “We need to go defend our families.” Then Gideon received a message from the Lord: “Gideon, you have too many soldiers.” It’s a good thing the Lord didn’t tell me that. I would have said, “Have you counted the Midianite soldiers? Maybe they’re the ones who have too many.” But not Gideon; he just said, “All right. What do you want me to do?”
The Lord said, “Tell your soldiers that if any of them are afraid to die, they are to go home.” So Gideon said to the 32,000 Israelites, “If any of you are afraid to die and want to live past tomorrow, I want you to go home right now. If you want to see your families again and aren’t ready to give your life, leave.” Twenty-two thousand went home. He now had 10,000. Can you picture Gideon gathering the 10,000 together and saying, “Everything is all right. Yes, I know that twothirds of our army just went home, but you’re the strong ones; you’re the stalwart. There are 135,000 of the enemy, but the 10,000 of us with the Lord’s help can handle them. Everything will be fine.” Now what are the odds? They’re getting worse! “That’s okay, you take your fourteen, you take fourteen, and everything will be fine.” Would it be easy to follow the Prophet then? Would you wonder about him? Would it be hard when you’d never followed him before?
As if that wasn’t challenging enough, Gideon received another message from the Lord: “There are still too many. Send some more home.” Gideon took his troops to the brook for a drink. Some of them dropped their weapons to drink, while others held their weapons and drank carefully. All those who dropped their weapons, Gideon sent home. The ones that held their weapons and drank carefully, he kept. Nine thousand seven hundred went home. Gideon now had 300 soldiers. He announced: “Okay, tonight we’re going to march over the mountain to fight 135,000 Midianites.” How would’ you feel?
Gideon then proclaimed. “The Lord’s going to be with us. I have received instructions from him about how we’re going to fight: Bring your lanterns tonight and cover them with water pitchers so nobody can see the light. Also, bring your trumpets. Meet here.” A soldier raised his hand and said, “I know my music’s bad, but it’s not going to kill them, Gideon.” Would that take a little faith?
Picture yourself with a lantern in one hand and a trumpet in the other. Gideon marches you over the mountain, and there are 135,000 trained warriors sleeping. You and your 300 friends are positioned around the camp, just twenty feet from the tents. In one hand, you have a lantern with a pitcher over it; in the other, you have a trumpet. Gideon runs by and says, “When I give you the high sign, uncover your lantern so everybody can see you. Then blow your trumpet for all you’re worth.” Then he starts walking away. That’s his last instruction.
I have mentally put myself twenty feet from that tent so many times, and I have thought, “Could I ever do it?” Imagine yourself blowing your trumpet—then all of a sudden 135,000 soldiers jump out of their tents with their swords. What do you say? “Hi! Just wanted to give you a little entertainment. Want an encore? I know another number. You don’t like to dance?” What would you do? Can you imagine? Would it take some faith? Has it ever been easy to follow a prophet? It’s never been easy, and it wasn’t easy for them.
There they stood with their lanterns, and Gideon, the great leader that he was, held up his lantern. He didn’t just take off the pitcher, he smashed it! He grabbed his trumpet and blew, and then (I love this part) the three hundred trumpets blared all at once. If the soldiers hadn’t blown the trumpets, they would have died. But they followed the Prophet, as hard as it was. Three hundred soldiers uncovered their lanterns and blew their trumpets for all they were worth.
A single trumpeter used to go in front of a battalion of soldiers. Suddenly, the Midianites heard three hundred trumpets, and they must have thought three hundred battalions were descending on them. They jumped up, grabbed their swords (no time to put on their armor), and started to fight. Who were they fighting? Each other. Imagine them looking at each other and saying, “Boy, you look familiar.” While they were having this battle, the greatest pep band in history was out there playing away on their trumpets. After fighting against themselves, the Midianites began to run away from themselves, and that’s a long way to run! As they ran away, the three hundred Israelites could now sing with real meaning, “We Thank Thee, O God, for a Prophet.” They had protected their families by following a prophet. It wasn’t easy for them, and it won’t be easy for you. At times it will be a real struggle.
Now a modern-day example. Once my friends and I went to a fireside. Spencer W. Kimball was coming to talk to us. He wasn’t the president of the Church then, but he was a member of the Quorum of the Twelve, so we sustained him as a prophet, seer, and revelator. He was going to talk about dating, courtship, and marriage. We loved to talk about that subject!
Elder Kimball said, “Those of you who are so young should not be dating at all.” Suddenly all the Beehives were weeping, wailing, and gnashing their teeth. The Scouts were cheering and saying, “Who would want to date? Those girls crawled out of the swamp!” Next, Elder Kimball proclaimed, “Those of you who are older should not be going steady so young.” Now the Laurels and priests were getting a little bit on edge. They murmured, “Oh, don’t talk about this. My parents are here! Talk about something else.” Elder Kimball continued with words something like these: “It is not wise to stay out alone late with nothing else to do but ‘huggy bear, kissy-face.’”
At this point, I would like to suggest how to follow this part of the Prophet’s counsel. Just carry your scriptures with you at all times. That might be why those pocket-sized editions were printed. If your date stops the car and starts to slide across the seat toward you, just pull out your scriptures and ask, “Oh, did you want to read?” If you need a specific reference, quickly look up Mosiah 13:3 and read aloud, “Touch me not, for God shall smite you if ye lay your hands upon me.” If this doesn’t work, you could quickly yawn and state, “Oh, I’m sorry, but this mononucleosis is really getting me down!” If this doesn’t get the message across, just get out of the car, run around to the driver’s side, and say, “Oh, did you want me to drive?”
Now, Elder Kimball didn’t just give us a list of no-no’s. He also had some positive suggestions. His next statement was, “I have some counsel for you. I think you ought to try group dating.” We looked at each other and thought, “Group dating? Group dating? Ah, two girls and me. Group dating! Okay, this is going to be great!” I was all for it. Then suddenly I figured out that wasn’t what he meant.
He was talking to us about going out in a group and having the strength of numbers to encourage each other to be good. Why be alone and put yourself on the devil’s ground? Why stay out so late? Instead, get together in big groups, build positive memories, and have a great time. It sounded good, but my friends were saying, “That might have worked for Brother Kimball in Arizona at the turn of the century, but it won’t work today.” I think they pictured the kids at school going to the next dance in the farm truck, all grouped together.
We enjoyed Elder Kimball’s talk, but we were having some trouble translating it into our actual activities. The next week, however, our bishop walked into our priests quorum meeting and asked how many of us had heard Elder Kimball at the fireside. Then he reminded us that a stake dance was scheduled for that weekend. He expressed his feeling that our stake dances had not been very good, and then he asked, “Do you know why?” We said, “Yes, we do. We have ugly girls in our stake!” The bishop didn’t like that answer because his daughter, of course, was in our stake. He announced, “That’s not it, brethren. It is because you are not group dating at the stake dances. So, I would like to challenge each of you to dance with at least ten different girls during the next stake dance.” One priest replied, “I can’t. I don’t know how to dance.” Having watched this priest at the last dance, the bishop agreed. But then he gave us the tools we needed to follow his counsel—he taught us how to dance. He said, “I have been watching American Bandstand this week, and I think the kids on that show pretend they just jumped out of the shower and are drying off. To dance, just pretend you have a towel. Flip it over your back, like this. (To our dismay, he demonstrated as he talked.) Then you grab it behind your back with your other hand and just use it to dry off.” We would have agreed to do anything just to get him to stop his demonstration, so we committed to dance with at least ten different girls at the next dance.
Then came the night when we would try to follow a prophet’s counsel and apply our bishop’s advice. However, there were some challenges at our stake dances. All the girls would stand against one wall in a huge mob and just talk to each other. All the guys would stand next to the refreshments in a big mob and eat all night long. Then a few of the kids who were going steady would walk out to the middle of the floor and go into “the clutch.” And they’d say, “Turn down the lights, turn down the lights.” All the leaders would walk around with six-inch rulers, saying, “You’re dancing too close, you’re dancing too close.” This dance was about the same. I felt bad, because I had had fifteen showers that week practicing my dance technique. But the mob of girls was over there, and we were over here. It was kind of hard to walk across the floor and ask one of the mob to dance. We would have to walk across the room all alone and say, “Hey, you. No, not you, you! Yeah, you back there. Do you want to dance?” Just scary!
So we were standing around, nobody was dancing much, and finally Jim walked in. He was in our priests quorum, and he said, “Hey, you guys, come on, let’s dance.” One of the guys said, “No thanks, Jim, I’d rather dance with a girl.” He said, “That’s not what I meant. Let’s all go ask them to dance at the same time. Let’s all walk over together, and then it won’t be so scary.” So twenty of us left the wall and walked over together. Every chaperone in the place sat up, wondering what was going on. As we arrived in front of the mob, Jim said, “Hey, all you girls, come out here and dance.” A bunch of them came right out and thought that was a neat idea. Some of the others stood back and said, “No. I want a personal invitation.” So a couple of the football players went back and picked up one of the girls by the hands and the feet and said, “Okay, one, two …” and then all the girls came right out. They thought that was personal enough.
Fifty girls came out to dance, and there were twenty of us. But that was okay. We just stood in a big circle together, and if any of the kids stopped dancing, someone would grab them and throw them in the middle of the circle. Everybody would lock shoulders, and the kids in the middle couldn’t get out. Then they would have to do some crazy thing. So nobody stopped dancing all night. We had more participation than ever before. Everyone had a great time! I’d had my first group date. I thought, “This is marvelous!”
Two weeks later, school ended, and it seemed like everything else ended too. If you weren’t going steady, you just had a boring summer and tried again next year. But not this summer. Because of a prophet’s counsel and some wonderful Laurels who decided to follow it, we got an invitation in the mail. The girls said, “We’re planning a group date. Would you come over, please?” My buddies were asked to the group date too, and we were pretty excited about going to find out what it was going to be. As we arrived at the party, there were forty or fifty of us in the backyard. There was plenty of good food, so we knew it was going to be a great party. As the guys stood around the refreshments, a few of the girls came around drawing numbers out of a hat and handing them out. When everybody had a number, they announced, “We have our cars parked out in front. They have numbers on the windows. Go jump in the car that has the number you have in your hand.” We stuffed food in our pockets, and out we went. Seven of us were packed into the little compact car in which I was jammed. The girls handed us two bags through the window. One was full of numbered balloons, and one was full of all kinds of equipment. Then they proclaimed, “Just pop the numbered balloons in order, one at a time; they have instructions inside. Use the equipment and have a great time. Don’t exceed the speed limit—somebody’s watching your speedometer. Good-bye!” We found the first balloon and popped it. We found out right then that a girl sitting in the front seat could not stand to have balloons popped. When we popped it, she just shrieked. She jumped too high and made a sun roof where there wasn’t one. We finally found the clue; it said, “Go to JB’s restaurant and eat a piece of strawberry pie.” I volunteered. I said, “I’ll sacrifice my body and do this thing.” Then the others said “You’ve got to wear this old, ugly nightshirt and a big blindfold and go into JB’s and eat the piece of strawberry pie.” It was 9:30 on Saturday night, and the place was packed with people. I said, “I’m sure that Shelly would love to do this!” She volunteered.
We roared down to JB’s. The nightshirt went on. Shelly put on the blindfold and stumbled into the restaurant. Everybody was staring at her. She sat down at the counter, and the waitress brought her a piece of strawberry pie—delicious pie with a huge strawberry in front and lots of whipped cream on top. Without being able to see, she picked up half of the pie with her fork and propelled it toward her face. It was obvious to everybody that she would never get it all in. The whole restaurant went quiet, and the people just stared with their mouths open. The pie went “splat,” all over her face. We all started to laugh, and then she started to laugh, and then she inhaled. Guess where the whipped cream went. Right up her nose! She was just dying on the spot, and we were dying laughing. All of a sudden another nightshirted victim came wandering in with another group. We grabbed the pie and gobbled it down and grabbed her and threw her in the car and popped the next balloon. “Eek!” the girl in front screamed.
We grabbed the second clue, which said to go over to the movie theater and get a pizza box. We roared over to the drive-in and realized that with seven of us in the car it was going to cost us eighteen dollars to get in. We didn’t have that kind of money, so my friends elected me to walk into the drive-in. Have you ever walked into a drive-in movie theater? It’s really interesting. I said, “One ticket please.” The teller said, “What are you doing? How are you going to hear?” I said, “I’ll hang the speaker on my ear, what do you think? Give me the ticket.” They finally let me in. I ran to the refreshment stand to get a pizza box. However, the girls back at the party had called ahead and said, “Don’t give out your pizza boxes tonight.” So they wouldn’t let me have one. But we had to have one to win. So I thought, “Somewhere in this place there’s got to be a pizza box.” What do you do with the box when you order pizza at a drive-in? A lot of people toss it out the window. So I knew someplace there was a pizza box. I ran up and down the rows until finally I spotted one. I was so excited to get it that I tripped over some speaker cables as I ran. Down I went. The box was right next to a convertible with four young women inside. They saw me running toward them and must have thought I was going to jump in. Suddenly they were all screaming at the top of their lungs. I didn’t have time to explain—I just grabbed the pizza box and took off. A man parked two places down saw me running with the box, heard them screaming, and thought I had stolen their pizza. He threw the speaker out of the car and rumbled after me—he was chasing me in his car! I barely got out of there with my life. I jumped in our car, and we popped the next balloon. “Eek!” and away we went.
That whole night was like that. We roared around all over Salt Lake City doing crazy things. Finally, as it got near the end of the night, one of the last things we had to do was go up to the local “passion flats” where a few of the kids park on Saturday night. It was well-inhabited when we arrived. We got out of the car, and each of us tip-toed around knocking on the foggy windows of the parked cars, then handing in a pamphlet and running away. Of course, the pamphlets were entitled, “Why Stay Morally Clean?”
It had been a great night. Nobody had sneaked off to a corner to neck; none of us felt guilty about anything we had done. I went home and told my parents everything (almost) we had done.
We had so much fun that we decided we had better pay the girls back. The only problem was that we didn’t have any money, so it would have to be a cheap date. Two weeks went by as we planned for the next group outing. We had a friend whose father owned a furniture company. We filled his big furniture truck with folding chairs. When everyone arrived, we all piled into the back of the truck, all fifty of us. Then we went on the cheapest date I’ve ever been on in my life! We found a drive-in theater that charged three dollars for every vehicle that drove in. They couldn’t do anything but let us in, so in we went. They had us park on the back row because of the size of the truck. We got out all our chairs and put them down on the whole row by the speakers. We had big theater bags of popcorn and passed them out to everybody and just had a great time. It was so much fun and so inexpensive: six cents for a movie—not too bad! We decided we’d try it again a couple of weeks later. This time, though, we asked everybody to bring something more comfortable than folding chairs to sit on. The kids were carrying their recliners out and shoving them in the back of the truck. One kid brought a big package under his arm; he wouldn’t tell us what it was. When we got to the drive-in, he opened his package. It was a hammock, and he stretched it out between two speaker poles. “I’m going to listen in stereo,” he said.
The whole crazy summer was like that. It was great to get to know so many more people. It was one of the best summers I ever had because of following that principle taught by Elder Kimball. When September came and it was time to go back to school, I registered as a senior. Oh, it’s nice to be a senior. You walk in and say, “Hi, everybody, it sure is nice to be with me!” I went in to pick up my registration packet, so I could sign up for my classes, when in came Steven, a friend of mine. I noticed that he had a pink slip in the back of his registration packet. “What’s that for?” I asked. He said, “I’m checking out of school. I’ve got to support my family.” I said, “Did something happen to your parents or something?” He said, “No, it’s not my parents. This is my family. Becky and I have been married for a couple of weeks, and we’re going to have a baby in about six months. I’ve just got to be able to support my family.”
Well, we had a really good talk, and I had a sad realization. Steve and Becky were sitting behind me at the fireside when an apostle of the Lord stood before us and said, “Don’t stay out late alone; don’t do these things. Stay in a group.” They had rejected the words of a man we sustained as a prophet. They had been invited to the first group party, but they didn’t come. Do you know why? They didn’t think they could have any fun with a group. They didn’t think an eighty-year-old man could tell them anything. They followed the light of their own conceit and said, “No, I’m going to do what I think is right.” They wouldn’t listen to the counsel of a prophet. And because they wouldn’t, they left school for the last time. They have had many struggles since. The pain and sorrow that have come to that couple could have been changed if they had really listened when they sat at a fireside at the feet of one they sustained as a prophet. Instead, they said, “No, I will not follow your advice.”
I know by direct experience how much our prophets love the youth, and that as we follow a prophet we can be happy. One day I was walking out of the Church Office Building parking lot, and there stood the prophet. I walked over and said, “President, may I talk to you for just a minute?” He put his arm around me, and as we were walking along together, I said, “President, I know that there have been times lately when you’ve received some criticism. However, I want to tell you that I’ve been with the youth of the Church, and I know they love you. I’ve seen youth who delight in following your counsel.” He stopped in the middle of the parking lot, and he turned around and looked into my eyes. Then he said, “Would you do something for me?” “Anything,” I said. “The next time you’re with the youth, would you tell them how much I love them? For forty-two years I’ve never forgotten them in my prayers. The youth of the Church are the hope of the future. They are so important that I hear the apostles pray for them every week, and we never forget the youth.” He bore his testimony to me about who you are. Then he stopped and said, “What I really wish they knew is how much the Lord loves them. I know the Lord loves the youth.”
When I was leaving on my mission, many of the missionaries were called over to the temple for a meeting. To me, this was a very sacred experience. President Lee came in to talk to us. He announced, “Elders, I have two hours. If you have any questions at all, I’d be glad to answer them. What would you like to know?” Everyone asked questions of President Harold B. Lee. Finally one young elder stood up in the back and said, “President Lee, I came to this room up a spiral staircase. I was reading Church history the other day, and I read that on one of the stairwells of the temple, the Savior appeared to one of the presidents of the Church. Could you tell me which stairwell it is? I’d just like to know where He was.” Then the missionary sat down. It was a simple question, really. President Lee looked down quietly for a long time. Then he looked up and said, “Elder, I think what you’re asking me is, ‘Where has the Lord been in the temple?’ Is that what you’d like to know?” The elder nodded his head. President Lee then explained, “I hope this doesn’t surprise you, but this is the Lord’s house. He frequents these halls often. In fact, he might even be with us today.”
We say there’s a prophet on the earth. That means he really is a prophet. He receives instruction and guidance from our Elder Brother and Our Heavenly Father. They are at the head of this Church.
President Kimball walked into the funeral of President David O. McKay. A religious leader from another faith, a friend of President Kimball, had come to pay his respects. As he shook hands with President Kimball, he said, “I’m so sorry the head of your Church died.” President Kimball said, “I am too. But isn’t it wonderful that He rose on the third day?” If there’s anybody who knows the truth of what I’m talking about, it is our living Prophet, for whom the fog is lifted. I know that as we follow him, great joy comes and great joy will follow. That doesn’t mean that our lives will be without trials, but it does mean that we will be prepared for what is ahead. I hope that this simple example might be generalized into many areas of our lives. I feel deeply that this generation will be ready to fulfill their divine destiny only by learning to follow the living Prophet with a greater exactness than possibly any generation has done before. The fog in our lives can become thick, and we need to rely on our ability to develop faith in one for whom the fog has lifted. It is my prayer that we can do this in a more complete way than any other generation in history.
Scott Anderson is an institute teacher at Utah Valley Community College in Orem, Utah. He enjoys construction work, sports, writing, and singing, and he has traveled to Egypt, Israel, Greece, Germany, and many other places. He and his wife, Angelle, have six children.