LETTER TO MY MISSIONARY SON

My son, Ethan, was called to serve a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints in New York City, working with those who speak Spanish.  As he was being set apart to this service, I had the distinct impression that father Lehi was grateful to my son and to all who are willing to bring the restored gospel of Jesus Christ to his posterity.  I sensed divine love in this massive effort to turn the hearts of his children to their fathers so they could claim the blessings promised them long ago.  It was an interesting impression and one I’ve never forgotten.  At the time, missionaries were only allowed to call home on two days a year; Christmas and Mothers Day.  I wrote to him weekly during the two years he served.  On one occasion early in December while writing to him, I felt the Spirit speak to me in a way as if I was giving a blessing to someone.  I recognized immediately that it wasn’t me providing the words I wrote.  I shared with him that he had been sent to New York City for a purpose and that people would see him in a dream and recognize him when they saw him and would be ready and willing to embrace the restored Gospel of Jesus Christ.  After putting those words to paper, I resumed writing my letter in my usual way.  A few weeks later, on Christmas afternoon, he called home.  At one point in our conversation he shared with me an experience that had perplexed him.  He said that he and his companion had been walking to a laundromat to speak with a woman who was a member of the Church.  On their way they passed a distinguished looking Hispanic man on the sidewalk walking in their opposite direction.  He said the man slowed and looked at him quizzically.  My son felt uncomfortable so they just kept on walking, as did the man in the opposite direction.  They arrived at the laundromat and found the woman they had been seeking.  A few minutes later they heard the bell on the door ring and he looked up to see the man, who they had just passed on the street, enter the laundromat.  He walked directly to my son and his companion and, looking at my son, said, “Can you baptize me?”  The missionaries were taken back by his question.  They thought he was just trying to toy with them and were reticent in their response.  Apparently there was an awkward moment between them and, though they took the man’s contact information, they left convinced the entire scenario was fabricated.  They had never contacted anyone who had asked them such a direct question.  He was telling me what a strange situation it had been.  I was incredulous.  I asked him, “Didn’t you read my letter?”  I believed the man in question acted exactly as the Lord had known he would, which was included in my letter.  This seemed to strike a chord with him and he assured me he would contact him with a far less skeptical attitude.  A subsequent conversation revealed that the man had indeed seen my son in a dream and was prepared and eager to receive the blessings of the gospel.  He was baptized and no evidence of subterfuge was ever manifest.  The Lord accomplishes His work in such quiet, careful, and simple ways. If we aren’t paying attention it’s easy to miss the Lord’s hand in our lives.