Testimonies Are More Like Trees Than Cornstalks

While studying for an upcoming Sunday school class, I gleaned an insightful thought from Elder Boyd K. Packer's talk in the 1982 Mission President Seminar, titled "The Quest for Spirit Knowledge" (see New Era, Jan. 2007, 2–7).

"A testimony is not thrust upon you; a testimony grows. We become taller in testimony like we grow taller in physical stature; we hardly know it happens because it comes by growth. You cannot force spiritual things. Such words as compel, coerce, constrain, pressure, and demand do not describe our privileges with the Spirit. You can no more force the Spirit to respond than you can force a bean to sprout or an egg to hatch before its time. You can create a climate to foster growth, nourish, and protect; but you cannot force or compel: you must await the growth. Do not be impatient to gain great spiritual knowledge. Let it grow, help it grow, but do not force it or you will open the way to be misled."

I offer some thoughts related to this statement, not to boast, but simply to share and to encourage. My experience for the most part bears out Elder Packer's assertion that a testimony grows imperceptibly. It is true that I can point to very specific moments in my life when my testimony of one principle or another has burst forth in brilliant, revelatory light. But those moments are the exception rather than the rule.

The Cornstalk

For example, I learned that the Book of Mormon was true after reading just one sentence. About three weeks before I was due to leave for my mission to Germany I had reached a crisis in my faith. I believed the Church was true and that Joseph Smith was a prophet, but I did not know it. Like many young missionaries, I questioned whether I could spend the next two years testifying of something I did not know for sure was true. In my young mind, so full of worry and fear, I came to the conclusion that I either had to have a sure testimony or I would not go on my mission. In my exigency, I remembered the words of Sister Nelson, my seminary teacher, that the keystone of our religion is the Book of Mormon. If the Book of Mormon is true, everything else follows. I determined that the Book of Mormon would be my test. If God would reveal to me that the Book of Mormon is true, I would be satisfied that all of the rest would fall into place.

After a depressing day of meaningless and spiritless church meetings, I made up my mind to begin my experiment the next day. On Monday morning I prepared for school a half hour early. I seated myself in the recliner in my room, kicked up my feet, open my leather-bound Triple Combination, and thumbed to the first page of the Book of Mormon. I closed my eyes and said a simple, sincere, desperate prayer. "Heavenly Father, if you are there, and if you want me to go on this mission, please tell me that the Book of Mormon is true."

I began reading in 1 Nephi Chapter 1. I fully expected to read for thirty minutes that morning and again in the evening and every day for the next three weeks, until I reached the end of the book. When I finished the book, I expected that I would have an answer either way. But what happened that first Monday morning rocked me to my core. I had no sooner read the words "I, Nephi, having been born of goodly parents" than I was instantly overcome by a powerful feeling of warmth and peace. The Holy Ghost pored pure knowledge into my mind and changed my heart. He bore knowledge into the very fibers of my being at the cellular level.

In that moment, I knew with absolute certainty that Nephi was a real person. He had lived a real life. He had real parents. He had walked across the desert, fought with his brothers, retrieved brass plates, built a ship, and sailed with his family to the American continent. I knew that the Book of Mormon was true, that it had been written by ancient prophets and translated by a modern prophet. In that moment, all doubt and fear were swept from my mind. I knew I could serve my mission with confidence that I could testify boldly of the gospel of Christ as it was contained in the Book of Mormon.

I read for the allotted thirty minutes, and then put the book down so I could go to school. When I closed the cover, the feeling stopped. What was that? I wondered. I thought about the experience throughout the day, but the feeling itself was gone. Perhaps I had only imagined it. Maybe I had hypnotized myself. Try as I might, I could not conjure up that warm and peaceful feeling again.

Determined, however, to keep my personal commitment to continue the experiment, I took my seat in my recliner the next morning, picked up the book and turned to the place where I had left off the previous day, and said the same prayer. "Heavenly Father, if you are there, and if you want me to go on this mission, please tell me that the Book of Mormon is true." As I started to read, the same overpowering feelings took possession of me, and I knew again with a certainty as surely as if I were standing on the deck of the ship with Nephi that he was a real person and that he had written the words I was reading. I knew my mission call was from God and that he wanted me to go on my mission.

I reveled in the glow of the Spirit for a half hour, and then closed the book. It was like I had just turned off a light bulb. I was not cast, however, into total darkness. A faint ember continued to glow in my heart. I again pondered my experience throughout the day. Maybe there is a pattern here, I thought to myself.

The next morning I arose early again, this time anxious to get my reading underway. I sat down, opened the book, said my prayer, and again the feelings came, my mind expanded, my heart swelled, and I knew that it was all true. I was convinced that I was not making this up, that I was not hypnotized, that I was experiencing a real communication from heaven, sent by a loving Heavenly Father who knew what his son needed to enable him to accept his call to serve a mission. I continued to read every day until I left on my mission, with the same effect each time I opened the book. It was no longer a surprise, however, but a great comfort and a steady assurance that I was known by God and that he cared about me. My heart was changed. My mind was enlightened. My conviction was anchored. My knowledge was sure.

Such was my experience in a moment of extreme crisis. Not everyone faces such a crisis, nor have such events occurred regularly in my life. To Elder Packer's point, I can also testify that testimony typically grows rather than bursts forth. These fast-growing cornstalks of testimony have been the exception in my life. Most of my testimony has grown slowly over the years, like the Japanese Elm tree in my front yard.

The Tree

A few years after we moved into our home in Kaysville, I dug out a patch of sod in the middle of our front lawn and created a garden patch. In the middle of this island Evelyn and I planted a Japenese Elm. For the first few years of its life, the tree was barely larger than a bush. It was no taller than my head. When I used the electric weed wacker to trim around the island, I could simply throw the extension cord over the top of the tree as I worked my way around the border.

Then one day, to my surprise, the cord got caught in the top branch of the tree. I had to stop trying to throw the cord over it and to backtrack around the island to finish trimming. Without my realizing it, the tree had grown.

So has been my testimony.

Today I know that God lives, that he loves me, and that he knows me personally. I know that Jesus Christ lives. He is my personal Savior as well as the Redeemer of the world. He has taken upon him my sins and has provided a way for me to become perfect in him. I know that he has all power and is filled with perfect and abiding love for all of God's children. I know that Joseph Smith was God's chosen prophet in these last days. I know that the gospel he restored is the true doctrine of Christ. I know the plan of salvation is true. I know the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is God's true church on the earth today. I know that there is power in the priesthood. I know that President Thomas S. Monson is a living prophet of the living God. I know that Boyd K. Packer and his eleven brethren in the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles are living witnesses of the resurrected Christ.

This knowledge has come to me line upon line and precept upon precept, here a little and there a little (see Isaiah 28:10). It has grown in me because I made room for the seed to take root in my heart, I nourished the seed with daily prayer, scripture study, and faithful obedience to the best of my ability, and I applied a healthy dose of faith (see Alma 32:28). As a result, my tree of testimony has grown slowly but surely, imperceptibly at times, but miraculously nonetheless. There have been years of drought and periods of pestilence. But the tree has endured. What was once a little bush of belief is now at least tall enough that I cannot just toss an extension cord over it anymore. I anticipate more wonderful growth if I continue to nourish it. As the Son-light grows brighter and brighter in my life, I look forward to the day when my little tree of testimony, touched by the hand of Christ, will become a tree of life, even eternal life. Such is my testimony.