A few years ago, we knew our Elder Brother and his and our Father in heaven well. We rejoiced at the upcoming opportunity for earthly life that could make it possible for us to have a fullness of joy as they had. We could hardly wait to demonstrate to our Father and our Brother, the Lord, how much we loved them and how we would be obedient to them in spite of the earthly opposition of the evil one. And now we're here--our memories are veiled--and we're showing God and ourselves what we can do. Nothing is going to startle us more when we pass through the veil to the other side than to realize how well we know our Father and how familiar his face is to us. And then, President Young said, we're going to wonder why we were so stupid in the flesh.
God loves us, he's watching us, he wants us to succeed, and we'll know someday that he has not left one thing undone for the eternal welfare of each of us. If we only knew that there are heavenly hosts pulling for us--friends in heaven, whom we can't remember now, who yearn for our victory. This is our day to show what we can do--what life and sacrifice we can daily, hourly, instantly bring to God. If we give our all, we will get his all from the greatest of all.
I close with this last true story, as it was given by Bob Richards in his book Life's Higher Goals. It always touches my heart and it may touch yours. Lou Little tells this story about his greatest football team. They were on their way to the conference championship--one last game. He had a boy on his squad who had not quite been able to make the team for four straight years. Just before the game--three days before--Lou was given a telegram to give to this boy that informed him his only living relative had just died. The boy looked at the telegram and said, "Coach, I'll be back for Saturday's game." The morning of the game he came up to his coach and said, "Lou, I want you to put me in this game. I know I haven't made the first team yet, but let me in for this kickoff. I'll prove to you that I'm worthy of it." Well, Lou could see that the boy was emotionally upset, and he made all kinds of excuses, but finally he thought, "Well, he can't do much harm on the kickoff, so I'll put the boy in."
The roar of the crowd followed the kickoff. The opposing quarterback took the ball on the goal line, moved up, and on the seven-yard line there was a tremendous tackle. The boy had dropped him in his tracks. On the next play Lou left him in. He made the next tackle; he was in on the next tackle; you couldn't move him out of there. He made practically every tackle that day--terrific downfield blocking. He was the reason why Columbia won the championship. Afterwards, all the guys were pounding him on the back. When they were all done, Lou Little went up to the boy and said, "Son, I don't understand it. Today you were an all-American. I've never seen you play like this in four straight years. What happened?"
And the boy looked up at his coach and said, "Coach, you knew my dad died, didn't you?"
"Yes, I handed you the telegram."
He said, "You knew he was blind, didn't you?"
"Yes, I've seen you walk him around the campus many times."
He said, "Coach, today is the first football game my dad ever saw me play." It makes a difference, friends, when those unseen eyes are watching.
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