Wouldn't it be nice if God did our work for us?

Wouldn’t it be nice if God did our work for us?

As Brigham Young and the first pioneer company prepared to cross the Platte River, he could see that the water was running high. 

The Enabling Power of the Atonement

The enabling power of the Atonement strengthens us to do good and serve beyond our own natural capacity. David A. Bednar.

As I read this quote the other day, I thought of Brigham Young. He lived his boyhood in upstate New York. He had a pair of shoes for Sunday, but that’s all. He cleared the heavily vegetated land, barefoot, one bush at a time.

A Missionary in France

The ocean voyage to France seemed to last forever, but it was uneventful. During the trip John practiced his French so when he got to Boulogne-sur-Mer he was able to greet the mayor in halting, but understandable French. The mayor was charmed that John spoke to him in his native tongue and replied in broken English. He gave John permission to preach in the city. That night John and Elders Bolton and Pack walked along the sea shore and thanked the Lord for preserving them, dedicating themselves to His service.⁴

            While John was in France, he organized several branches of the Church, including one in Paris, oversaw the translation of the Book of Mormon into French, and established a Mormon newspaper, The Star of Deseret. Next john traveled to Germans where he spent time organizing the translation of the Book of Mormon into German and started a newspaper called Zion’s Banner.

r horse- � r w @n �[o ws and cocked their rifles as if to shoot. With a prayer in their hearts and faith in the Lord, the missionaries stood firm.

            Soon the chief urged his horse forward. He handed the missionaries a letter saying the Indians were peaceful members of the Cheyenne tribe. John shifted in his saddle, wiping the sweat from his forehead and offering a silent prayer of gratitude for safety.

The missionaries invited the Indians to feast with them on dried meat and crackers. That evening John and a few of the others visited the Indians’ camp. The tribe seemed friendly but a little embarrassed because their plan to frighten the group hadn’t worked.²

War Paint

When the brethren crossed the Platte River, they rested their horses. Distant thunder shook the ground, and alarm crept into their hearts. Riders on horseback galloped over the horizon. The only sound that could be heard was the drumming of hooves on the hard ground, dusting the earth behind them. As they rushed closer, John could see they were Indians dressed in war paint and feathers – their bows and rifles in hand.

            With the river in back of them, the missionaries had no place to hide or time to escape. They couldn’t outrun the Indians. John knew he and the other travelers were in the hands of the Lord. He prayed.

The missionaries froze in place, knowing they could die at any moment. They waited. The Indians thundered closer. Were they on the war-path or friendly? They weren’t yelling any war whoops.

When the Indians got within a few feet of the missionaries, they reined in their horses, drew their bows and cocked their rifles as if to shoot. With a prayer in their hearts and faith in the Lord, the missionaries stood firm.

            Soon the chief urged his horse forward. He handed the missionaries a letter saying the Indians were peaceful members of the Cheyenne tribe. John shifted in his saddle, wiping the sweat from his forehead and offering a silent prayer of gratitude for safety.

The missionaries invited the Indians to feast with them on dried meat and crackers. That evening John and a few of the others visited the Indians’ camp. The tribe seemed friendly but a little embarrassed because their plan to frighten the group hadn’t worked.

John Taylor, Missionary

I rejoice in proclaiming this glorious gospel, because it takes root in the hearts of the children of men, and they rejoice . . . in the blessings of the Kingdom of God.¹

            At the October conference of 1849 Brigham Young called John on a mission to France along with Elders Bolton and Pack. Leaving the Salt Lake Valley with them were Lorenzo Snow, going to Italy; Erastus Snow, traveling to Denmark; Franklin D. Richards on his way to England and others who would preach in the Eastern States.

            As they crossed the plains, the brethren scanned the horizon, looking for Indians. They met a group of men carrying mail who told them they’d been attacked by Indians and robbed (or ‘tithed’ as John called it) of supplies, including blankets and clothing. The missionary party grew anxious and searched the landscape for signs of war paint and horses. 

John also built the first boat to sail on Utah Lake. He used a net that his wives made to catch fish – a tasty change from tough beef through the long winter.¹³

The next summer crickets came in hoards thick as black clouds, devouring the sparse crops of the Saints. John prayed, along with everyone else, for a miracle. The seagulls came and stuffed themselves with crickets and spewed them out in the Great Salt Lake – over and over again. A miracle!

The life of the pioneers was hard. John worked alongside the Saints to turn discouragement into hope. His trust in God blessed others because they leaned on his faith until their own became strong. Because of John’s unwavering testimony and faith, the Saints loved him. 

Burned Cricket Paste. Yuck!

Brother George Bean came to visit John with an old Goshute Indian who called himself a medicine man. The Indian told John that many of his tribe were dying of the white man’s disease of measles. He asked for a blessing for Yellow Bird, the twelve-year-old son of Chief Little Face. John and Brother Bean went with the medicine man and blessed Yellow Bird. The boy recovered.

The grateful Indians brought gifts of moccasins and gloves along with sego lily and camus bulbs, thistle roots, sunflower seeds, pine nuts, and wild honey. The Indians told John where to gather more. John’s prayers were answered. There was also a bag of meal that his family liked. John wanted to know how to make it, and the Indians showed him. They encircled a field with fire and burned the brush along with lots and lots of crickets. As the crickets roasted in the fire, the Indians gathered them and then ground them up, mixing them with honey for a delectable meal that could be made into cakes.
This is not delectable meal in my book!

http://www.deseretnews.com/article/865568837/Book-review-Texting-through-Time-John-Taylor-and-the-Mystery-Puzzle-will-delight-young-readers.html