Seeking spiritual power to protect and prepare the rising generation

During general conference last spring, Elder Steven E. Snow of the presidency of the Seventy recounted a story about a small town in the high Utah desert where it is so hot and dry that even clouds are rare and every prayer is for rain. He told of an out-of-towner driving through town and seeing an old gentleman with his grandson standing near the dusty road, quenching their thirst with cold sodas. The stranger pointed to a small cloud in the sky and asked, “Do you think it will rain?”

The old-timer looked up and pondered for a moment, then responded, “I certainly hope so. If not for my sake, for the boy’s. I’ve seen it rain.”

I laughed when I first heard this story, but in recent months I must have crossed over into old-timer status myself because now it makes me teary. I think of these verses:

"Behold, the days come, saith the Lord God, that I will send a famine in the land, not a famine of bread, nor a thirst for water, but of hearing the words of the Lord:

"And they shall wander from sea to sea, and from the north even to the east, they shall run to and fro to seek the word of the Lord, and shall not find it.

"In that day shall the fair virgins and young men faint for thirst." (Amos 8:11-13)

In my youth I heard about saintly folks whose prayers were answered and to whom angels appeared, people who called down the rain. I longed for dramatic spiritual experiences that would make me like them, filling my spiritual bucket and — while we're at it — giving me a great story to impress those of lesser faith (who otherwise ignored me).

Eventually I learned better motives. I began to simply yearn for what would help me know God and understand his will. I learned there was nothing more meaningful to me than feeling the Spirit and being in God’s service.

I also learned that sometimes water in the desert is a mirage. Sadly, I was not always very good at telling the difference between a revelation and a pipe dream. Chase down a few mirages when you think you are headed for water and you can get a little cynical, a little wary. You acquire a really good excuse for not trying too hard to live by every word, every still, small word, every tiny drop that appears out on the horizon where earth meets heaven.

But get too picky in the desert and you might die of thirst.