Why Am I Here?

Why Am I Here?

From Chicken Soup for the Latter-day Saint Soul

Why Am I Here?

And the LORD sent an angel . . .

2 Chr. 32:21

I was canning peaches in the kitchen one day in 1973, and was very busy with the project. All of a sudden, I went downstairs. I was halfway down the stairs before I realized what I was doing. I had no reason to go downstairs, and remember vividly my thoughts as I did so.

Why am I here? I silently asked. I am busy upstairs, and I have no need to be here.

When I reached the bottom step, I stood quietly, still wondering, “Why am I here?”

We had just purchased a new chest-style freezer, and we had not yet put anything in it. The old one was still there, complete with the contents—which we planned to move into the new one later. We had left the new one sitting there with the lid up, and we had not even plugged it into the wall socket.

As I scanned the room, I noticed the lid was down on the new freezer.

That’s strange, I thought. Why is that lid down?

I walked over and lifted the lid. What I saw made my knees buckle, and I had to hold on to the side of the freezer in order to remain standing. Inside the freezer sat our son, Neil. His knees were tucked up under his chin, and he had the biggest grin on his face.

I was so startled I could hardly speak. Finally I managed, “What are you doing in here?”

“I was just waiting for you to come and get me. I was playing hide and seek.”

Later that day I regained my composure along with my ability to breathe. That took a long time—because I knew that had I not gone down the stairs when I did, Neil would have died.

Why did I go downstairs? I heard no voice, no warning. I was literally pushed down the stairs. I know today that it was the power of the Holy Ghost that took me where I needed to be.

Almost thirty years later, I still start to shake when I think about it.

President James E. Faust has said, “If worthy, we are entitled to receive revelations for ourselves, parents for their children and members of the Church in their callings.” I will always be grateful that at the time I was worthy of that personal revelation.

Lester Ann Jensen

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