He Knows and Loves Us - a Seminary Story

I was excited to attend the CES Conference in August 2002.  I had been to the conference before, so I knew I needed to get there early in order to get the supplies that I needed for the upcoming seminary year.  I went to the BYU Bookstore right after I checked into my dorm room and bought almost all of my supplies.  But when I returned to my room, I realized that I had forgotten a few things.  I had no idea who my roommate would be, and she hadn’t checked in yet, so I decided to go back to the bookstore to get the few remaining items.

I chose to walk back to the bookstore, up the path from Helaman Halls.  As I started to turn left to exit the building near the pathway, I heard a voice say, “Turn right.”  I immediately recognized the voice of the Spirit.  The parking lot was to the right, so I thought, “Ok, I guess I’ll drive.”  I got into my car and headed out of the parking lot, planning to turn left to get to Campus Drive.  Again I heard, “Turn right.”  “Hmmm,” I thought.  “I guess I’ll go the long way – up University Ave. and right on 9^th.”

When I got to the intersection of University Ave. and University Parkway, I heard the voice again.  This time it said, “Turn left.”  Now I was really confused.  Campus was to the right.  If I turned left, I’d be leaving the campus area.  But, I followed the instruction and turned left.  “I wonder what kind of an adventure I’m on,” I thought…

In 1999, I had taught seniors in Seminary.  Each student signed up to lead the class Devotional for a week.  There were enough weeks in the year to have each student take two turns.  On their second turn, I invited one of their parents to come and tell us a little more about their son or daughter.  One mother, Sister Lorinda Dorff, was telling the class about her daughter, Evaly.  Evaly really liked a book by Max Lucado called, “You Are Special.”  It’s a wonderful children’s book with a great message about visiting the Maker, not judging people, and recognizing one’s own personal worth and value.  After Sister Dorff quit speaking, I forgot about the book…

As I was driving on University Parkway, I saw Seagull Book on the right side of the street.  “Ah!”  I thought.  “Ok.  I’ll get my supplies there.”  I was grateful that my husband, Craig, and given me extra cash to purchase plenty of supplies.  I wasn’t sure what things would cost, and he made sure that I had enough.  I pulled into the parking lot and went into the store with my three items clearly in mind.  As soon as I go inside the store, I forgot all three.  I stood there, confused, as the clerk approached me.  “May I help you?”  he said.  As I looked at that young man, I heard myself say, “Do you have a book called “You Are Special?”  I was shocked at my question.  Why in the world would I say that?  I didn’t have any young children in my family – in fact my youngest was a 13-year-old deacon.  I was pretty sure that this book would not be his next reading obsession.  “Yes,” replied the helpful young man.  “It’s right over here.  In fact, it’s on sale.”

The instant that I got that book in my hands, I remembered my other three items, found them, purchased them, and headed back to my dorm room still confused by my book purchase.  I was clear on the fact that I had been directed, but I had no idea why or how that book would be useful.

When I got to my dorm room, my roommate had arrived.  We greeted each other warmly and exchanged social information  - she was from a place called “Armpit” Alabama (not her town’s real name, but that’s how she referred to it), was the bishop’s wife and a seminary teacher and the young women’s president.  My own information was not nearly so fascinating – I was from Yorba Linda, CA, and my only calling was to be a seminary teacher. 

We began to talk about our seminary kids – a favorite pastime of seminary teachers.  She loved her students just as I loved mine.  She was particularly concerned about one young woman who had stopped coming to church and seminary.  The grown-ups in this girl’s life had made some terrible decisions, and she was being adversely impacted by them.  This young lady was so negatively influenced by these decisions that her school counselor had recommended therapeutic counseling.  The counselor had told her that the church was the problem.  Stop going to church, the counselor said, and magically the problems would disappear.  So, she stopped going to church and was unwilling to talk to anyone or accept any communication of any kind associated with the church, even from this dear woman whom the girl loved.  This wonderful seminary teacher was grieving for this young woman.

“There’s got to be some way to reach her,” I said.  “Surely, since she loves you, she could accept a note or a treat…?”

“I’ve tried everything.  She called me once and said she wanted to end her life, and we talked for several hours.   She felt better after we talked, but I know she’s struggling with some of the decisions that her mom made.  I just don’t know what to do.”

“Maybe you could write her a note,” I continued stubbornly.  “Maybe she just needs to know how much you love her and how special she is.  Maybe you could put the note in a book or something and say to her, you are wonderful!  You are special!  You are… Special” 

Suddenly I became aware of the book that I had purchased.  “Oh.  Wow.  I think I have something that belongs to you.”  I pulled the book out of the bag and handed it to my new friend.  “Go ahead and read this.  If you think that it would be helpful to this girl, then it’s yours to give.  I’ll leave you alone for a while so you can read it and pray about it if you want.  No rush.”  I left our dorm room confident that the book belonged to that loving teacher and her student.

I returned about an hour later, to my roommate who was crying.  “It’s perfect.  It’s exactly what she needs.  I would love to give it to her, but I can’t,” and she lifted the book for me to take.  I didn’t.  “Why can’t you give it to her?” I wondered out loud.  “I can’t afford it,” the teacher replied, glumly.  “I don’t have any extra cash on this trip.  I can barely afford to be here.” 

“Well, I guess these needs were known.  Let me tell you how I came by this book.”  I told her about the extra cash my husband had given me.  I told her about turning right and turning left and asking for the book.  I told her that I was pretty sure that the book was hers to give and that her sweet young woman needed it.

My new friend took the book and promised to give it to her young woman.  I don’t know if that ever happened.  I don’t know if the teacher gave her the book.  I don’t know if the young woman received the message.  I don’t know if her mom figured out that her decisions were hurting her daughter.  I don’t know the end of this story.

But, here’s what I do know.  I know that years before I ever met that roommate from “Armpit Alabama,” that a mom of another girl was inspired to share that book with my seminary students and me.  I know that the Lord knew that years from that time, a certain young woman and her mom would move into that Alabama ward.  I know that the Lord knew that His dear daughter would need to know that she was special to Him.  I know that he loves that young woman.  And I know that He knew that I would listen and turn whatever direction I was told.  He knew he could depend on me.  I want that to always be the case.