I had the honor of hearing my dad speak at two funerals. The first was the funeral for his stillborn grandson, Calder. The second was the funeral of his mom just a little over two years ago. When I reflect back on these two occasions, there is one thing that both of his speeches had in common. In both he spoke of the plan of salvation. So in his honor, I am going to do the same.
Growing up, my dad was a wonderful father. He was a great example to me of Christ-like love and Christ-like hard work. He worked hard to provide, but still made time to show individual love to each and every one of his twelve children. He was a holy man in the way that I imagine Joseph of Nazareth was. A humble carpenter that took care of his family and loved Jesus with all his heart. Perhaps not the one out there giving sermons, but the one in the background making sure needs were met no matter how many sacrifices he needed to make.
Hopefully, my dad doesn’t get too embarrassed in me saying this….My dad was not a big scripture reader. I don’t ever recall seeing him read the scriptures unless he was writing a talk for church or reading with the family. That being said, he was a big scripture LIVER. He worked hard to live honorably and put great efforts into teaching his children to do the same. The principles he emphasized most to us as kids were the importance of developing Christ-like attributes such as kindness, honesty, integrity, peacemaking, diligence and charity. He worked diligently to make sure we understood and lived by these principles to the best of our abilities.
These Christ-like attributes were the main principles he wanted us to live by. Those were the “How.” But he also taught us the “Why.”
The “Why” was Jesus Christ and His plan of salvation.
There was a night during Covid where Nephi and I were talking about the state of the world, the state of our family, and the worries we had for the future. We spoke of many things that night, but the only thing that I truly remember in detail was our conversation about our Dad. We spoke about how even though he wasn’t a huge scripture reader, we KNEW that he had a strong, strong testimony of the plan of salvation. Nephi and I talked about how we appreciated how our dad talked often about the hope that the plan of salvation brought us and how our dad truly believed and told us kids repeatedly that the plan of salvation was the greatest gift that the gospel of Jesus Christ brings. Nephi and I left that conversation not knowing much about what the future would hold, but we left remembering that our dad had a strong and robust hope in the plan of salvation that surpassed all his worries and trials. At that time in my life, the time of my greatest apprehension about the future, my father’s hope blazed in my heart like a fire. Not the kind of fire that destroys, but the kind that provides comforting light and warmth even in the darkest night.
Where did my father’s fiery hope in the plan of salvation come from? That’s a good question that I have thought about a great deal.
Did it come from his first breath, his first cry, as a newborn babe in the summer of 1963?
Did it blossom when he was young while his mother sang primary songs as she rocked him to sleep?
Did it grow from him hearing his dad speak of his half brother John, who passed away during missionary service?
What about when he held his younger siblings as they cooed as babes in his arms?
Was it the time he first saw Sandy smiling over a desk in the chemistry office?
Or when he kneeled across the altar from her, with their first born. Hand in hand as they were sealed for all eternity?
Perhaps it was when he held for the first time in his arms, each of his twelve children. Admiring their perfect little mortal bodies and feeling close to his savior as he welcomed their fresh spirits into this world.
Maybe it was when he held his mother as she cried over the unexpected death of her husband, Carl’s dad, and he was unsure how his family would go on. His youngest sister was 14 when their dad passed; the same age as Kori.
Maybe it was during a more care-free time, like when he raced his brothers and sisters on their bikes as children. Or when his mom saw him kiss a girl in primary during the prayer and he thought he was done for.
Perhaps his hope grew like a rose in the midst of thorns as he watched people he loved bury their babies who never got to breathe their first breaths.
Maybe it was when he laughed with his children as he pushed them on swings or comforted them when they fell and scraped their knees.
Was it Christmas Eve in 1997 when his baby girl’s heart stopped beating for a time and he heard a voice telling him that everything would be alright?
Was it when he saw his children fall in love, get married, and sealed for time and all eternity?
When he held each of his grandchildren in his arms for the first time?
What about less than two months ago when he heard the doctor say the “C” word?
Or when, less than a week ago he asked his sweetheart for permission before passing to the other side?
Well if you ask me, it was all of those times and many more that grew my dad’s fiery hope in the plan of salvation. And I think that if there was one gift he could bestow to each and every one of us, it would be the gift of that hope.
The fiery hope that carried him through his whole life. Through both the joys and the sorrows from birth to death. The hope that still burned bright even during his last hours on this earth. And the same fiery hope that carries him to. this. very. day.
The fiery hope that families can be together forever. Fiery Hope that because of his Savior, he WILL see each. and every. one of us. again. He will get to hug us, embrace us--with his resurrected body free from earthy pain and full of heavenly love. This is what the plan of salvation is all about.
This is the fiery hope that Carl holds in his spirit, and this is the fiery hope that I carry inside me today. A torch of hope that I hope I can pass on to each of you.
I am not asking you to not be sad. I am not asking you not to grieve. Sadness and grief are an important part of this. What I am asking of you, and what I think my dad is asking of you too, is that you always keep hope’s flame alive in your heart. Hope that you will see Carl and all your loved ones again.
Today is a HARD day for those that loved Carl. There will be more hard days to come. But I promise you that if you keep the flame of hope alive in your heart, it will guide you even through the darkest nights.
That is Carl’s legacy. Hope. Fiery, beautiful, resilient hope. That is the heirloom that he is passing to each of us. The one he wants us to let burn bright in our hearts. Hope that God has a plan for his children. Hope that earth has no sorrow that heaven can’t heal.
So to close, I would like to read a scripture. I said my dad was not a scripture reader, but I would like to emphasize again that even though he was not a scripture reader, he was a scripture LIVER. I don’t know if my dad knew this scripture word for word, but I know that he LIVED it word for word. My hope is that each of us will leave today with this scripture LIVING and burning bright within us. A flame of perfect hope that can carry us through even the darkest night.
This is 2 Nephi 31:20
“20 Wherefore, ye must press forward with a steadfastness in Christ, having a perfect brightness of hope, and a love of God and of all men. Wherefore, if ye shall press forward, feasting upon the word of Christ, and endure to the end, behold, thus saith the Father: Ye shall have eternal life.”
In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.
