May I join with all of you in welcoming Elder Ronald A. explanation for it.

What mothers do is an essential

Rasband, Elder Gary E. Stevenson, and Elder Dale G. element of Christ’s work. Knowing that should be enough
Renlund and their wives to the sweetest association they to tell us the impact of such love will range between
could possibly imagine. unbearable and transcendent, over and over again, until
Prophesying of the Savior’s Atonement, Isaiah wrote, “He with the safety and salvation of the very last child on earth,
hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows.”1 A we can [then] say with Jesus, ‘[Father!] I have finished the
majestic latter-day vision emphasized that “[Jesus] came work which thou gavest me to do.’11 ”
into the world … to bear the sins of the world.”2 Both With the elegance of that letter echoing in our minds, let
ancient and modern scripture testify that “he redeemed me share three experiences reflecting the majestic
them, and bore them, and carried them all the days of influence of mothers, witnessed in my ministry in just the
old.”3 A favorite hymn pleads with us to “hear your great past few weeks:
Deliv’rer’s voice!”4 My first account is a cautionary one, reminding us that not
Bear, borne, carry, deliver. These are powerful, every maternal effort has a storybook ending, at least not
heartening messianic words. They convey help and hope immediately. That reminder stems from my conversation
for safe movement from where we are to where we need with a beloved friend of more than 50 years who was
to be—but cannot get without assistance. These words dying away from this Church he knew in his heart to be
also connote burden, struggle, and fatigue—words most true. No matter how much I tried to comfort him, I could
appropriate in describing the mission of Him who, at not seem to bring him peace. Finally he leveled with me.
unspeakable cost, lifts us up when we have fallen, carries “Jeff,” he said, “however painful it is going to be for me to
us forward when strength is gone, delivers us safely home stand before God, I cannot bear the thought of standing
when safety seems far beyond our reach. “My Father sent before my mother. The gospel and her children meant
me,” He said, “that I might be lifted up upon the cross; … everything to her. I know I have broken her heart, and that
that as I have been lifted up … even so should men be is breaking mine.”
lifted up … to … me.”5 Now, I am absolutely certain that upon his passing, his
But can you hear in this language another arena of human mother received my friend with open, loving arms; that is
endeavor in which we use words what parents do. But the cautionary portion of this story is
like bear and borne, carry and lift, labor and deliver? As that children can break their mothers’ heart. Here too we
Jesus said to John while in the very act of Atonement, so see another comparison with the divine. I need not remind
He says to us all, “Behold thy mother!”6 us that Jesus died of a broken heart, one weary and worn
Today I declare from this pulpit what has been said here out from bearing the sins of the world. So in any moment
before: that no love in mortality comes closer to of temptation, may we “behold [our] mother” as well as our
approximating the pure love of Jesus Christ than the Savior and spare them both the sorrow of our sinning.
selfless love a devoted mother has for her child. When Secondly, I speak of a young man who entered the
Isaiah, speaking messianically, wanted to convey mission field worthily but by his own choice returned home
Jehovah’s love, he invoked the image of a mother’s early due to same-sex attraction and some trauma he
devotion. “Can a woman forget her sucking child?” he experienced in that regard. He was still worthy, but his
asks. How absurd, he implies, though not as absurd as faith was at crisis level, his emotional burden grew ever
thinking Christ will ever forget us.7 heavier, and his spiritual pain was more and more
This kind of resolute love “suffereth long, and is kind, … profound. He was by turns hurt, confused, angry, and
seeketh not her own, … but … beareth all things, desolate.
believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all His mission president, his stake president, his bishop
things.”8 Most encouraging of all, such fidelity “never spent countless hours searching and weeping and
faileth.”9“For the mountains shall depart and the hills be blessing him as they held on to him, but much of his
removed,” Jehovah said, “but my kindness shall not wound was so personal that he kept at least parts of it
depart from thee.”10 So too say our mothers. beyond their reach. The beloved father in this story
You see, it is not only that they bear us, but they continue poured his entire soul into helping this child, but his very
bearing with us. It is not only the prenatal carrying but the demanding employment circumstance meant that often
lifelong carrying that makes mothering such a staggering the long, dark nights of the soul were faced by just this
feat. Of course, there are heartbreaking exceptions, but boy and his mother. Day and night, first for weeks, then
most mothers know intuitively, instinctively that this is a for months that turned into years, they sought healing
sacred trust of the highest order. The weight of that together. Through periods of bitterness (mostly his but
realization, especially on young maternal shoulders, can sometimes hers) and unending fear (mostly hers but
be very daunting. sometimes his), she bore—there’s that beautiful,
A wonderful young mother recently wrote to me: “How is burdensome word again—she bore to her son her
it that a human being can love a child so deeply that you testimony of God’s power, of His Church, but especially of
willingly give up a major portion of your freedom for it? His love for this child. In the same breath she testified of
How can mortal love be so strong that you voluntarily her own uncompromised, undying love for him as well. To
subject yourself to responsibility, vulnerability, anxiety, bring together those two absolutely crucial, essential
and heartache and just keep coming back for more of the pillars of her very existence—the gospel of Jesus Christ
same? What kind of mortal love can make you feel, once and herfamily—she poured out her soul in prayer
you have a child, that your life is never, ever your own endlessly. She fasted and wept, she wept and fasted, and
again? Maternal love has to be divine. There is no other then she listened and listened as this son repeatedly told
her of how his heart was breaking. Thus she carried him—
again—only this time it was not for nine months. This time
she thought that laboring through the battered landscape
of his despair would take forever.
But with the grace of God, her own tenacity, and the help
of scores of Church leaders, friends, family members, and
professionals, this importuning mother has seen her son
come home to the promised land. Sadly we acknowledge
that such a blessing does not, or at least has not yet,
come to all parents who anguish over a wide variety of
their children’s circumstances, but here there was hope.
And, I must say, this son’s sexual orientation did not
somehow miraculously change—no one assumed it
would. But little by little, his heart changed.
He started back to church. He chose to partake of
the sacrament willingly and worthily. He again obtained a
temple recommend and accepted a call to serve as an
early-morning seminary teacher, where he was
wonderfully successful. And now, after five years, he has,
at his own request and with the Church’s considerable
assistance, reentered the mission field to complete his
service to the Lord. I have wept over the courage,
integrity, and determination of this young man and his
family to work things out and to help him keep his faith.
He knows he owes much to many, but he knows he owes
the most to two messianic figures in his life, two who bore
him and carried him, labored with him and delivered him—
his Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, and his determined,
redemptive, absolutely saintly mother.
Lastly, this from the rededication of the Mexico City
Mexico Temple just three weeks ago. It was there with
President Henry B. Eyring that we saw our beloved friend
Lisa Tuttle Pieper stand in that moving dedicatory service.
But she stood with some difficulty because with one arm
she was holding up her beloved but severely challenged
daughter, Dora, while with the other she was trying to
manipulate Dora’s dysfunctional right hand so this limited
but eternally precious daughter of God could wave a white
handkerchief and, with groans intelligible only to herself
and the angels of heaven, cry out, “Hosanna, hosanna,
hosanna to God and the Lamb.”