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Son of God

It was the Fall of 1976, and my first semester in college. It was my first time on my own. I was sitting in a Freshman English class when the instructor asked us to write a paper addressing this thesis, “Man: The highest form of life or the lowest.”

I scarcely hesitated; I chose lowest and wrote my paper defending my position. In my defense, at that time I was not a Christian.  I knew nothing of God and His doctrine. My formative years had been on the ranch, in the mountains of Idaho. I had spent countless hours hunting, fishing, and running traplines. Though I was a just a kid, I was very attuned to mother earth and the abuses heaped upon the natural systems by rapacious men and corporations. I had strong opinions.

I turned in that paper, but strangely, I felt guilty. I felt that I done something terribly wrong, but I did not know what it was. How badly I felt is reflected by the fact that I so vividly remember that one paper of hundreds I wrote in my college career.

A few months later, my course of life changed. I was baptized and began to search the scriptures.  For the first time in my life, I began to pray and search for God. I suppose that set the stage for the story I want to tell you now. 

It was a warm sunny day a few months after my baptism. I went to visit one of my friends, Emma. We were sitting in her living room, she across the room to my left, just chatting.  I remember though that the conversation had nothing to do with what happened next. It came suddenly, out of nowhere, filling my mind and heart with light and warmth. A voice, more like an impression, spoke softly but powerfully, “You are a son of God.” It seemed to course through me. I was thrilled and filled with joy that lasted for days. I wanted to shout it out, but I was afraid people would think I was crazy. 

That day changed me. I had not prayed for that or even knew that such knowledge mattered. Yet, from that day forward I knew who I was and I comprehended what I was, and it made all the difference. I am God’s son. I understood why I felt so guilty with that paper. We are not the lowest form of life. We are not half-breed chimpanzees; the end-product of evolutionary accidents.  We are sons and daughters of Almighty God. He is our Father.  Yes, men behave imperfectly; sometimes even cruelly, but when they know who they are; who they really are, they understand that perfection is their potential; their inheritance, and they have something to become.  I believe we cannot go home until we learn from whence we came. (JST Luke 13:25)