THAT WHICH IS GREAT

THAT WHICH IS GREAT

Wherefore, be not weary in well-doing, for ye are laying the foundation of a
great work. And out of small things proceedeth forth that which is great.
D&C 64:33, see also Gal. 6:9

Karen, 17, and Sean, 19, were newlyweds that fall, he beginning his second year of college and she working to support him. I was assigned as their home teacher. They always acted happy to see me, and willingly sat through my chit-chat and lesson. Just as I was leaving, Karen would without fail say something like: “I can’t join Sean’s church. I was raised [insert prominent Protestant denomination], and I made a promise to my parents that if I married him, I would remain true to the church I was raised in.” (Of course Karen being baptized was in the back of my mind, but I hadn’t yet gotten to the point with them that I thought it would be appropriate to even mention.) She kept saying it, month after month, as if she didn’t remember that she had said it previously.

We left that summer to do some work on a graduate degree, and when we returned in the fall, my new home teaching assignment didn’t include Sean and Karen.

Fifteen years later I was called as bishop. Right there in the ward membership records I found a Sean and Karen Oliver. Could it be? It was. They had a 10 year old son, Erik. Sean had begun his career right there in the university town, in the manufacturing industry. He had been promoted a number of times, but not transferred. I assigned Stillwater’s best as their home teachers, and monitored their progress quite closely. I was disappointed that the best home teachers available were only seeing the Olivers every other month or so. I remember despairing momentarily: if this is all the best are going to do, what does that say about the motivation of the rest of the home teachers of this ward! Woe is me.

When I was released, I asked the high priests group leader if I might be assigned to the Olivers as their home teacher. He was happy to oblige. I called them and gave them two choices of times to visit. We settled on one of them. When I arrived they weren’t there. I tried again. They couldn’t do it on either of the nights I was free. The month was over.

I started earlier the next month. Same thing: set an appointment only to be stood up. Being a persistent rascal, I tried again. This time they were there. But that was the pattern – over two years I saw them about 10 times, even though I tried an average of three times each month to set an appointment. I gained new empathy for Stillwater’s best, realizing I had been mistaken in my assessment of their level of commitment. On our last successful visit the Olivers announced that they had accepted new employment out of state.

Well, that’s that, I thought. Gave it a good shot.

A couple of years later I returned exhausted from an all-day high council assignment. The phone rang just as I was settling in for what I thought was a well-deserved evening of relaxation. I let it ring, hoping someone else would pick it up. They didn’t.

“Bro. Boyce, this is Karen Oliver. Remember me?”

I did.

“You’re talking to the newest member of the Church, and it’s all your fault! I was baptized about half an hour ago.”

“Karen! You could knock me over with a feather! Tell me about it.”

“You know all those times when you came to visit us when we were first married? Well, I felt something special every time. I guess I knew deep down inside that what you were saying was the truth. I didn’t know what that feeling was at the time, but I knew enough that if I acted on what I was feeling, I would have to change some things about my lifestyle. And I wasn’t ready to do that then. All that nonsense about not joining Sean’s church because of a promise I made to my parents? It was just that: nonsense. I said that to throw you off, so you wouldn’t realize what I was feeling and pressure me to follow through. I appreciate that you kept coming, even though it probably didn’t seem to you like you were making any progress.

“And then, when you came back just a few years ago, same thing. I felt those exact same feelings. I believed and felt every word you said, just like before. I’m embarrassed to say it, but I had a Word of Wisdom problem at the time, and every time I thought your nose could tell, I would make sure that we weren’t home when you said you were coming. I’m sorry for being so rude, but I’m amazed and at the same time grateful that you kept trying.

“I’ve had some rather serious problems since we moved here. I don’t want to get into those details right now, other than to let you know that they led me to say to myself, ‘Girl, you need to do what you’ve known you should have done twenty years ago when Bro. Boyce was visiting you.’ So I did, I called the missionaries and told them I wanted to be taught and baptized. They say they fell right off their kitchen stools they were so surprised. As they taught us Sean’s testimony was rekindled, and he got his life back in order so he could baptize me. So that’s my story. I just wanted you to know how happy I am. Thought you might be interested.”

About a year and a half later another phone call came. “Bro. Boyce, Sean and I are going to be sealed in the Dallas temple this week-end. We’d love for you and your wife to join us.” We couldn’t – we were in the process of moving to Arkansas. We were overjoyed to be invited though, but sad we couldn’t make it.

The beat goes on: about five years after that, I was with our Arkansas high priests group as a brother was reporting on his General Conference experiences in the just-opened Conference Center. He concluded by saying, “I just happened to be sitting by this branch president from Mississippi. We got to talking, and when he found out where I was from, he asked if I happened to know a Robert Boyce, who now lives in Arkansas but who they knew in Oklahoma. So Bob, President Sean Oliver says hi.”

We had moved again. I was telling my Sean and Karen story in the Institute class I was teaching in Flower Mound, Texas, to illustrate “be not weary in well-doing.” I was using real names, because I had no idea that someone so far removed in time and distance would be known by any of my young students. Suddenly Kyle Taylor, a recently returned missionary from Vancouver and one of the students, lit up like a Christmas tree. He had just got through serving with them in the mission office and had grown to love them. They had retired and were serving a couple mission! He put me back in touch, and this is what I have learned:

In addition to serving as branch president, Sean has served as elders’ quorum president, in the Young Men, as ward clerk, ward mission leader, and counselor in a bishopric. Karen has been a counselor in a stake Young Women presidency, Primary president, Young Women president, and Relief Society president twice. Their son Erik joined the Church two years ago and is currently serving as ward mission leader. Oh the joy!