Prompting from the Spirit

I hope your week has been good.  Today’s message is about the importance of listening to the Holy Ghost.  The Holy Ghost has many different roles in my life.  It has offered me comfort, guidance, protection, and great peace.  When we listen to it and heed its encouragement, we are allowing ourselves to become instruments in God’s hand.  I encourage you all to listen for the Holy Ghost more intently this week.

I Love you all so much

DaD

Never postpone a prompting 

by Thomas S Monson

Stan, a dear friend of mine, was taken seriously ill and rendered partially paralyzed. He had been robust in health, athletic in build, and active in many pursuits. Now he was unable to walk or to stand. His wheelchair was his home. The finest of physicians had cared for him, and the prayers of family and friends offered in a spirit of hope and trust. Yet Stan continued to lie in the confinement of his bed at the University Hospital. He despaired.

Late one afternoon I was swimming at the Deseret Gym, gazing at the ceiling while backstroking width after width. Silently, but ever so clearly, there came to my mind the thought: “Here you swim almost effortlessly, while your friend Stan languishes in his hospital bed, unable to move.” I felt the prompting: “Get to the hospital and give him a blessing.”

I ceased my swimming, dressed, and hurried to Stan’s room at the hospital. His bed was empty. A nurse said he was in his wheelchair at the swimming pool, preparing for therapy. I hurried to the area, and there was Stan, all alone, at the edge of the deeper portion of the pool. We greeted one another and returned to his room, where a priesthood blessing was provided.

Slowly but surely, strength and movement returned to Stan’s legs. First he could stand on faltering feet. Then he learned once again to walk—step by step. No one would have known that Stan had lain so close to death and with no hope of recovery.

Frequently Stan spoke in Church meetings and told of the goodness of the Lord to him. To some he revealed the dark thoughts of depression that engulfed him that afternoon as he sat in his wheelchair at the edge of the pool, sentenced, it seemed, to a life of despair. He told how he pondered the alternative. It would be so easy to propel the hated wheelchair into the silent water of the deep pool. Life would then be over. But at that precise moment he saw me, his friend. That day Stan learned literally that we do not walk alone. I, too, learned a lesson that day: Never, never, never postpone following a prompting.