July 20, 2014

Since Pioneer Days festivities are here in Utah this week, my Sunday message will be a little different. I hope you'll bear with me. I am proud to say that I come from a long line of pioneer ancestors. I would like to share a story of my (I think) 5th great Grandfather, Charles Duncan. Charles and his family lived in Scotland, where he worked in a quarry as a stone cutter. They joined the church and prepared to cross the ocean to meet up with the Saints in America. As he was working to make enough money to make the crossing, his right arm was crushed in an accident. He was told that it would need to be amputated, but he refused to let them. They operated and removed several pieces of bone. Just before they were set to sail, gangrene set in. He was very ill, and was told by the Doctor that he was not well enough to make the journey, so he tried to convince his wife to go without him. She refused, so he agreed to come, and said that if he didn't make the trip, he would be buried at sea. The first night they were on board, his wife dreamed that she should wrap him in a quilt, lower him in a lifeboat, and he should drag his arm in the water. She had the same dream three times that night, and when she awoke, she shared it with Charles. He said that he didn't want to do it, but eventually she convinced him that she would come with him. The next night, they were tied into a life boat, and lowered into the sea. The cold salt water was horribly painful on his arm, but eventually he was able to sleep. It was the first time since his accident that he'd been able to sleep. So each night after that, they were lowered into the water and pulled behind the ship. By the time they reached America, his arm was healed and he was even able to help unload the ship. Their journey didn't end there. They still had to join the Saints, and because of extreme persecution, they had to join a handcart company to cross the plains to a desert wasteland with a giant lake filled with salt water where they could build a city and not be harassed. They buried family members along the way, some because of hunger, freezing, or illness. But they persevered and eventually made it to the Salt Lake Valley. Charles continued to work as a stone mason, and ended up cutting granite for the building of the Salt Lake Temple. I am honored to be a part of a heritage that is rich with strength, courage, endurance, and most of all... FAITH. They knew that whatever they had to endure, there was peace, comfort, and rest at the end of their journey. They knew that the most important things in life aren't things. I hope to meet them all one day and give them my thanks for the many sacrifices they made for us. Happy Sunday Friends! Hang in there! We're all in this together!