When I first saw the video of the now homeless and former radio announcer, Ted Williams, I was struck by his self-described “God Given Gift of Voice.”
Some have described his rich baritone voice as “the voice of God.” Having never personally heard God speak aloud, I cannot say for certain if this is indeed true.
What rings true for me, however, is how his story has given God a voice in a world that often shuts him out in the name of political correctness. Helping other people…isn’t that part of His message?
And behold, I tell you these things that ye may learn wisdom; that ye may learn that when ye are in the service of your fellow beings ye are only in the service of your God.
Mosiah 2: 17
On my way home from work, I often pass people like Ted Williams…standing on the street corner…begging for work or food. These people do not possess Williams’ rich baritone voice. But they do possess the same basic need for food and shelter.
The scriptures–the word of God–speak plainly to us on how we should treat the poor among us. You have perhaps heard the angelic voice of Ted Williams…but will you listen to the voice of God?
Everyone has probably experienced a moment of despair or doubt; perhaps even a crisis of faith.
For some a testimony of the gospel comes as naturally as walking. Others, however, seem to struggle with the gospel, and a testimony does not come without a great deal of effort.
I fit into the former category, but I have experienced my own doubts and crisis of faith.
Sunday morning my wife answered a knock at the door; being the fifth Sunday of the month, we were not expecting anyone to come to the house. She called for me to come to the door.
I was in the middle of helping my son write a talk for Primary he was scheduled to give that afternoon. The topic of the talk: The mission of the Church is to invite all to come unto Christ.
When I opened the door, I saw a pair of missionaries from another church.
A few years ago, while serving as Ward Mission Leader, I was introduced to a young man who had come to church with a less-active member of the ward. I knew Rory (not his real name) from the neighborhood, but had never been formally introduced.
Some years ago, my wife and I were in Salt Lake City and decided to attend an endowment session at the Salt Lake Temple. Not being familiar with the layout of temple, we found ourselves lost inside of the temple annex.
Looking around for someone to assist us, I noticed a brother dressed in a white suit wearing a name tag. I looked at his name tag and noted he was an emeritus member of the Seventy, whose name I have since forgotten.
He came over to my wife and me and asked how he could help us. I mentioned that we were from out of town and needed directions to the locker rooms.