It takes a faith-filled heart to realize the Lord’s promise that those with real intent will be shown the truthfulness of the gospel. Real intent to follow what the Lord teaches is at the core of revelation.

My relative Thomas Steed is one of these men with a life full of miracles. I share inspiring excerpts from his own writing.

Thomas Steed was like a brother to my direct line grandfather, his cousin, Henry Steed. They each married one of two Reed sisters and worked with and cared for one another for many years. He wrote this life history four years before his death in 1910.

Great Malvern, Worchestershire, England, 1840.

CONVERSION: I was then in my fourteenth (14th) year, and almost a skeptic in regard to the religion of the day. In the Sunday School I had asked my teacher if anybody knew that God lived, and if Jesus was the Redeemer crucified 1800 years ago. He answered: “My boy, you ought not to as ask such a question, you ought to believe; I don’t know and I don’t know who could tell you!” The same question I asked of a number of other individuals who I thought could know, and received the same answer. That caused me to think that there was nothing in religion, if nobody knew anything about these things, and I made up my mind to have nothing to do with it.

One day of that summer of 1840, 1 heard that a meeting was to be held in my father’s house, (called Pale House) by Apostle Woodruff. My sister Rebecca gave an invitation to attend, saying: “One of the second twelve Apostles is going to preach this evening, and added that he had the same authority as the first twelve and that the Church was again organized as it was primitively.” I very much wondered at such statement, as I had never heard any intimation of the existence of twelve Apostles; but I said I would go and hear for myself. Accordingly I went and heard the first principles of the Gospel. A Gospel sermon preached in all simplicity and plainness, for the first time in my life. I was convinced in my mind that the principals he advanced are true, and; his closing words I ever remembered. He said: “My dear friends, if you will receive my testimony and obey the Gospel in sincerity of heart, you shall know that God lives and that Jesus is the Redeemer, and that he has raised up a Prophet in our day and restored the Gospel with the authority to administer in its ordinances; and if you will obey it in sincerity, you shall know as I know that God has spoken from the heavens again and organized His Church upon the earth with all its gifts and blessings.”

PROPHECY AND TONGUES. Those words sank deep into my soul; they have remained with me all my life. My parents were baptized together with my eldest brothers John and William, also my sisters Ann, Elizabeth and Rebecca. I followed the meetings around in the neighborhood and was convinced that the message sent to us was from God, and in the month of November 1840, I was baptized and confirmed by Elder Thomas a missionary sent to us from Lancashire. My two younger brothers, George and Henry, were also baptized later on; and thus, with the exception of my oldest sister Jemima, who was 32 years old and married to Thomas Rowley, our whole family joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. We attended the meetings regularly, being happy and joyful. I went on in this way for some time, without extraordinary manifestation; but at the close of one evening meeting, the presiding Elder, Samuel Jones, crossed the room to where I was standing, the meeting being dismissed, and laying his hands upon my head he said: “My boy, if you will pray earnestly to the Lord, you will receive from Him a wonderful manifestation as a testimony of the truth of this divine work.”

Six weeks later I met with the Saints at 10 a.m. at Jonathan Lucy’s home in Colwall; there were two rooms full; the service opened as usual with singing and prayer. When the presiding Elder, my uncle William Steed, was preaching with much power, he stopped all at once saying: “The Spirit has left me and rests upon someone in the room. Will they please get up? If they will we will have one of the greatest manifestations of the power of God that we ever had in this branch.”

The spirit said to me, “It is you, get up.” But I hesitated, as I was a bashful boy. I thought: “What can I say?” And the Elder stood pleading: “Will they please get up?” All at once a power put me on my feet, The Spirit of prophecy rested upon me and I foretold the gathering of the Saints of that Branch with the body of the Church then at Nauvoo, Illinois, and many things that the Lord was about to do in this land of England to gather up the honest in heart, and the judgments that would follow the testimony of the elders. When I thought I could sit down, I could not and suddenly the gift of tongues rested upon me. Then the interpretation was given (by Joseph Williams, said Aunt Sarah). Then I spoke again two or three times and the house was filled with the Spirit and the power of God, and every one present was thrilled with the convincing power of the Holy Spirit and which I could feel through my whole system, like fire shut up in my bones. It was then plainly made known to me that God Lives, that Jesus is the Redeemer, and that Joseph Smith was a prophet of the Most High God. Of the truth of this, a doubt has never crossed my mind from that day to this.

Thomas was led to an opportunity to earn money to emigrate to America in the employ of James Archibald Campbell. The Campbells liked Thomas, but he records,

“It had been discovered, by having the Book of Mormon in my room that I was of the LDS Church. Mr Campbell tried hard to convince meof my “errors” but failing in his own efforts, he secured some anti-Mormon literature for me to read. He also called on the Minister, Rev. Mason, to come to the Lodge and show me I was in error. I had to appear before them in the parlor and to answer questions about our doctrines. He asked me to explain what our people believed. I answered: We believe in the fullness of the Gospel, as taught by Jesus and His Apostles, to the primitive Church, organized with apostles, prophets, teachers, etc., as restored by the prophet Joseph Smith.  You mentioned a prophet. Go on and state what you believe about him.

At that moment, the Spirit of the Lord rested upon me, to testify of the truth. Those two learned men seemed as two school boys; all fear left me and I explained the restoration of the Gospel by an Angel who appeared to the Prophet of God. While I was speaking, the minister turned pale and trembled, and when I was through, he said; “Mr. Campbell, send that boy out of the room, we can do nothing with him.” Then in a calm voice the latter said, “Thomas, you can go now.”

Thomas earned money to migrate to America, going through New Orleans, and then by steamboat to Nauvoo, Illinois, where the prophet Joseph Smith met the group at the pier. There George Albert Smith warned them that they had come to the threshing floor. “And after you have been thrashed and pounded, you will have to go through the fanning mill where the chaff will be blown away and the wheat remain.”

This was true, for Nauvoo difficulties were already beginning. Thomas immediately joined the Nauvoo Legion because enemies had threatened to “destroy the city; to take our leaders prisoners and to drive us away. Martial law was declared, provisions became scarce and many suffered from hunger. We were required to stand guard night after night. I could sleep half the time in a barn, my gun for a pillow”.

Thomas recorded, “The day of the last speech of the Prophet Joseph Smith to the Legion, I stood at the foot of the platform. No man ever spoke as he did to my hearing; and never a company of soldiers more determined to live or die with him. After Joseph and Hyrum had given themselves up as prisoners, Governor Ford spoke to the Legion, saying that if we would lay down our arms, he pledged his honor and the faith of the State of Illinois that they would be protected and have a fair trial. Then he dismissed the Legion.

I went to work with Henry at the brickyard. Early in the morning of the 28^th of June, 1844, a woman ran to us saying; “Boys, do you know that the Prophet and his brother have been martyred?” I stopped, astounded, immobile against a wall. Impossible! That could not be true! Alas! We soon realized it. All business ceased in Nauvoo; we were all bowed down in sorrow.

My ancestor, Henry Steed’s wife was very ill at the time. Thomas recorded that, “Sarah Layton Steed, Henry’s first wife, died of a broken heart soon after the bodies of the martyrs had been brought home. O thou man of God, whose delight is to instruct us in the glorious principles of Life! Thy Name and fame cannot be slain.”

Thomas moved to Iowa for a short time to earn money to emigrate once more. He worked with his cousins Henry and James and there found his wife Laura Reed. Thomas was one of the rescuers of the Martin and Willie handcart companies and served several missions.

Of the rescue he records, “In the early part of October, 1856, with a number of others, I started on the road to meet the handcarts Companies. It was late in the season and we had a pretty rough time. We met the first Company one day’s drive east of Fort Bridger; the sight I shall never forget; they looked like Indians from afar. They had encountered a severe snowstorm down on the Sweet Water, a most bitter cold to endure; in consequence a great many laid down their bodies to rest in death, worn out with the toils and hardships of the journey and many others were frost bitten very bad. I could not refrain from tears when I beheld the scene that surrounded me.”

“Here I met my niece, Sarah E. Steed, my brother John’s only child; I had sent for her from England. Thanks to the mercy of Providence she was in good health, although a lame girl, aged about 20 years. With them was also Brother John Bailey whom I had known in England, and his daughter, Mary Elizabeth, who later became my second wife. Brother Bailey was so severely frost bitten that his daughter had to carry him. I calculated to return with these to the Valley. I had come for that very purpose; but there was another Company farther back and Brother Wm. Kimball, who was in charge of the teams, wished me to let others take care of my friends and accompany the teamsters who went after the last Company. We wept together when I had to tell them of that decision. My poor friend Bailey died in arriving to salt Lake.”

“We traveled on until we came to the last crossing of the Big Sandy, going East, but could not see nor hear from them. Here we had a very severe snow storm and concluded to send two men down to the Sweet Water to see if any intelligence could be obtained; but the storm was so violent that the two men returned at night to us. Capt. Amussen concluded to fall back unto Green River where about 50 teams were stopping. In the morning Van Cott and C. Spencer started back for the Valley; the rest followed until we were as far as Fort Bridger and here halted for a few days, waiting to see if we could hear from the Company. In four days an express arrived, telling that those people were down at the Sweet Water. We harnessed up and started and met them about ten miles East of the Pacific Springs.

“They were in a very sad condition; a great many badly frozen. We used all the care and attention we could to make them as to make them as comfortable as possible. My only blanket I gave to a sick girl to keep her warm. We made good headway towards the Valley and arrived on the 30th of November, thankful that the Lord had brought us safely through the cold and snow to our families.”

This faithful man served several missions. Shortly before passing on, had a vision of the hereafter that others recorded him as saying:

“I had a glorious vision of the Principles of salvation and how the faithful will stand with the Savior upon the earth in its glorified condition. It was shown me when I was awake, and the same as Job, I know that my Redeemer lives, and I will stand with Him on the earth in the latter days. It was made manifest to me that all the promises made to the faithful will be realized, fully realized. It was so grand and beautiful! Indeed, it is such a blessing to me to think of it! My soul is filled with joy and consolation! I could not help but shout: Glory to God! Yes, glory to God!”

Thomas Steed, 1826 – 1910, Church Historical Department: RES, M270, Z9C #10

This year I will participate in my first Pioneer Trek as the dance caller. In preparation I would like to share here some special faith promoting stories from a heritage I treasure.

My great grandfather Thomas Kay crossed the plains at the age of 16 with his mother Margaret.  Before that the Kays lived in Lancashire England. Margaret and her husband John Kay ran a public house in England, serving beer, crackers, cheese and other snacks.

There the missionaries and an Elder Ascroft of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints helped convert the entire Kay family and John and Margaret became devoted members. The first to join the church was their oldest son Edward. He was an amazing young man who had already risked his life against the advisement of others to save his father, John, from a mining accident. Edward was also the first of the Kay children to migrate with his wife to Utah in 1853 to join the Saints.

Four months after Edward departed John died of consumption, leaving Margaret a widow with her remaining seven children, ages 6-20. This dear woman determined she would follow the counsel of the prophet to gather to Utah, and so a year after Edward left, and with financial help from the Perpetual Emigration Fund and a friend by the name of Houghton, she boarded a ship with her children and began her voyage to the United States. They sailed up the Mississippi River to the overland trail and made their way to Payson, eventually settling in Mona where they spent some years living in a dugout by a pond until a log cabin was constructed.

Margaret continued raising her children and became a midwife in the community and a home nurse. She served faithfully and was buried in the Mona cemetery. What does a family put on the gravestone to remember a woman like this?

Thank you grandma! Thank you!

The cry of the addict is one of loneliness. It is one of, “Can I ever be loved?”

The addiction visits, masquerading as relief from pain,

Or in stolen moments of pleasure counterfeiting real joy,

But when it is done, the hole is wider, the wounds deeper.

Cries of families echo in my mind in deep frustration.

“We’ve tried everything!”

“We’ve given enough chances, and it’s never worked.”

“I feel so betrayed! Why is this more attractive than I?”

Hearts die, pierced with deep wounds.

And yet, there is another cry.

Our Savior calls after them all.

“Come unto me, and I will heal you.”

A true advocate, he pleads, “Father, behold the sufferings and death of him who did no sin.”

“Father, spare these my brethren that believe on my name, that they may come unto me and have everlasting life.” (D&C 45:4-5)

And so he continues to call after us saying,

Behold a new heart will I give unto you.

I know he can, and I know he does.

He is a God of miracles.

This image of a young man more intent on outward appearance than real change really spoke to me. I pondered it for weeks and finally brought the article with me to work, hoping to share it with a co-worker.

That opportunity came unexpectedly when a co-worker came to work impaired. He was on medications that had so occluded his ability that he himself didn’t seem aware of what he had done. He hid the issue well enough that we assumed he was just having an off day until an officer showed up looking for the driver of his vehicle. It had been reported driving recklessly over a curb. It didn’t help my co-worker that when he was escorted to his vehicle by the officer, they found it impacted into the bumper of another car.

He, like all of us are so prone to do, was trying to look alright when something was seriously amiss.

I gave the article to another co-worker who has really impressed me by his strong work ethic coupled with a determination and exercised ability to overcome alcohol abuse that was destroying his life at one point. When we talked, he assessed what was happening to our co-worker and vehemently said, “I’m never going back there!” I shared the picture with him and as he took in the broken shell of the building with the man simply trying to just cover up, he concluded that it didn’t look like it would help much. I told him, “Our Father in Heaven is going to start from the inside if we’ll let him. He will rebuild us with a new heart, just like the Provo City Center Temple.”

I told him how it had burned down and how it had been considered a terrible tragedy, but then inspiration came to remake it. What was a beautiful tabernacle before now was rebuilt into a temple of God that exceeded the original building in every aspect. That painful purge was the beginning of rebirth.

Our lives are like this. The men I work with at the addiction recovery meetings often have houses in disrepair, but by coming to meetings, they take off their whitewashed masks, and in essence say, “This is my real house. Please come take a look. It isn’t in great shape. It needs to be fixed and I don’t know where to start.”  This is the beginning of the miracle of rebirth. I promise any of you reading – if you say this to our Savior and trust him with your heart, you can come clean and your mansion beautiful beyond anything we can comprehend.

A key principle taught by the Arbinger Institute involves the realization that some things we most want to overcome, are things we have the hardest time letting go of because they become characteristic of both who we are, and our justification for how we feel about others or our situation in life.

I saw this as a home teacher working with a family in another state. The mother was really struggling with maintaining a small business and her family in the midst of morality, health and drug issues affecting family members. We would teach and invite her and the family members we could reach to greater activity in church functions but they were largely ignored. I gradually felt she had become so defined by problems that she had a hard time letting them go. Life for her seemed like an onion comprised of multiple layers of problems. It was unclear what would have been left if we had peeled back and solved the problems one layer at a time. There was a sincere struggle to get to a better place but also a curious grip that was reluctant to really move on.

Elder Holland addressed depression masterfully in his talk, “Like a Broken Vessel”.  I agree with him that there are times when expert help is needed in turning this emotion around. I also know the Lord expects us to do all we can and so as one who has wrestled with depression and seen many personal struggles with addiction offer one idea I hope some will find helpful as a starting point:

Really desire to be happy…

In addiction recovery, individuals often realize that in all honesty, part of them is trying to hold onto the addiction because they don’t even know how it is to feel normal. Some call the addiction their ‘medication’ or ‘companion’. It is when my brothers desired with their whole heart to overcome, that the miracles began happening with wonderful results. Some start by saying, “I want to want to”, and grow from there.

Depression is similar to addiction in many ways. It draws one back again and again and slackens one’s strength. The decision to give your heart to loving others and thereby draw near to our Savior is the first step to happiness, and then deciding to be grateful for every tiny blessing helps us complete the journey.

This doesn’t mean that there won’t be terribly sad emotions that come to us from disappointments or the death of a loved one. But it does mean that it is possible to be grateful, even when we are suffering. For me personally, it means I’m grateful that the Savior, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief, is allowing me to feel a portion of his pain so I can be more like Him. I love Him. I am grateful to Him, and I feel His love in every beautiful thing.

And so, I’ve avoided answering the very question I posed, “Is Depression Addicting?” Addiction or not, it can eventually be overcome through our Savior who wants us to overcome all things and have perfect joy.

Please also see  “Grateful in any Circumstances”

I sang to both of my grandmothers as they were dying.

My dear Grandma Harper had suffered a stroke and could no longer speak, though her eyes were full of emotion. In the hospital, I felt embarrassed to start singing, “A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief” to her with my sister, but we did and suddenly what the world thought didn’t matter anymore. The Spirit filled the hospital room.

… He asked if I for Him would die,

The flesh was weak, my blood ran chill,

But the free spirit cried, ‘I will’

Then in a moment to my view,

The stranger started from disguise,

The tolkens in his hands I knew,

The Savior Stood before my eye

He spake and my poor name he named,

Of me thou hast not been ashamed,

These deeds shall thy memorial be,

fear not thou didst them unto me.

My Grandmother Chournos loved music. She was my primary pianist when I was a child. She was on her deathbed and too weak to turn her head to see who had come. My mother asked if there was something we could sing for her and she asked my mother, daughter, sons and I to sing, “the hymn about the Garden of Eden.” We looked at each other, initially not knowing which song she meant. Then it hit me, “She wants us to sing, ‘Now Let Us Rejoice’ “.

Now let us rejoice in the day of salvation

No longer as strangers on earth need we roam,

Glad tidings are sounding to us and each nation

And shortly the hour of redemption will come

When all that was promised, the saints will be given

And none shall molest them from morn until ev’n

And earth shall appear as the Garden of Eden

And Jesus will say to all Israel, “Come home!”

My Savior was taking her home. Grandma was too weak to wave, so I touched her hand and said my ‘goodbye’.

These hymns were equally important to my pioneer ancestors. Oscar Winters was a pioneer who once told Heber J Grant, “Heber, I believe that the young people of Zion do not thoroughly appreciate what Brother Clayton’s hymn meant to us, as we sang it, night after night, crossing the plains. … I want to tell you an incident that happened as I was coming to the valley. One of our company was delayed in coming to camp. We got some volunteers, and were about to go back and see if anything had happened, … when we saw him coming in the distance. When he arrived, we unyoked his cattle and helped him to get his supper. He had been quite sick and had to lie down by the road, a time or two. After supper he sat down on a large rock, by the camp fire, and sang the hymn, ‘Come, come, ye Saints.’ It was the rule in the camp that whenever anybody started to sing that hymn, we would all join with him; but for some reason, no one joined with this brother. His voice was quite weak and feeble; and when he had finished, I glanced around, and I don’t believe there were any of the people sitting there whose eyes were tearless. He sang the hymn very beautifully, but with a weak and plaintive voice, and yet with the spirit and inspiration of the hymn. The next morning we discovered that he was not hitching up his oxen; we went to his wagon, and we found that he had died during the night! We dug a shallow grave and laid his body in it. We then thought of the stone on which he had been sitting the night before when he sang:

“And should we die before our journey’s through,

Happy day! All is well!

We then are free from toil and sorrow too,

With the just we shall dwell.

But if our lives are spared again

To see the Saints their rest obtain

O how we’ll make this chorus swell—

All is well, all is well!

“We then rolled that stone over in place as a headstone for his grave.”

The Lord has said, “The song of the righteous is a prayer unto me, and it shall be answered with a blessing upon their heads.” I am overwhelmed that I am able to offer this prayer with all of you. Thank you for your love, prayers, talents and this your sacred offering.

Brother Harper – given as a thought at a youth practice for a Pioneer Trek Fireside

This year our church ward organized a drive to provide food for a school in Salt Lake that has many struggling families, many of whom are refugees. Because of the poverty in which these families live, it became apparent to teachers at the school that many of the students were going hungry during the holiday break because there were no subsidized meals.

I related the following to a friend of mine in a letter:

“Many in our ward gave their Christmas to these children. My wife Chihiro insisted on giving as well, saying, “Some parents of these children may have created their own problems, but hungry children – that isn’t okay.” She shopped and I pitched in to help assemble the bags. In the end, the ward delivered 540 large sacks of food, one for every child in the school, with the hope that it will bring relief during the holiday.

We had a manger display built in our neighborhood that we were encouraged to place a piece of straw in for each good act of service done. It was wonderful to have little children getting out of their parent’s cars and placing straw in the manger. The manger is now full and running over and so is my heart. I live in Heaven on Earth.”

Service is special because whenever we give our time and talents to serve God, he magnifies it.  Days after the service was rendered, we received beautiful letters from children at the school saying, “Thank you” in a 100 innocent ways. It warmed my heart, but it didn’t stop there. I loved my wife more for her desire to help. I had a greater love for my neighbors who did so much to organize and give us an opportunity to participate, and I felt a deeper love for my Savior.

Because of this love, I want to make this entry on my website my final act of giving on this beautiful Christmas day.

As peace is increasingly taken from the earth, let us seek the peace that surpasses all understanding. It comes from the Prince of Peace, even our Savior, Jesus Christ.

Merry Christmas!