Bishop Papa

My 71 year old dad was just called to be the Bishop of their ward. I guess no one is ever too old to be Bishop. He is an amazing man and I have no doubt he is just what that ward needs. I was so nervous for him all week, even dreaming about him. That all stopped yesterday, though, when I saw him and heard him speak in front of his congregation. He owned it and I knew he was going to be just fine, not that I ever doubted his ability.

My dad is so humble and kind. One of my favorite things about him is that he is a man's man, but when it comes to the gospel and sharing his testimony he gets emotional. It is so obviously important to him. My favorite thing about yesterday came after he was set apart and after we all had eaten. My dad told us a little bit about his conversion story and also of his mission. I feel the need to record this information so I will attempt to retell what my dad said in hopes that I don't mess it all up.

My dad and his buddies lived in California at the time that they were thinking about which college to attend and they had heard other people talking about BYU. My dad knew nothing about BYU. His mom would take him and his brothers to church a couple times a year but that was pretty much it. I believe one of his buddies was a member but not active either and the other buddy was not a member. The three of them decided to send away for a catalog of BYU. After they looked through it they decided they wanted to go there. When it came time to register for classes my dad remembers there being a lot of pretty girls lined up for the Book of Mormon Studies class. My dad knew he was "a Mormon" but didn't know what the Book of Mormon was. He and his buddies ended up signing up for the class anyway.

The first day of class the professor explained that they would always open and close with prayer and that because he didn't know anyone's names he would just point to someone to say it. He pointed to my dad. My dad was immediately embarassed. He told the professor he didn't know how to pray and that he had never prayed before in his life. The professor called on someone else to pray but because he was so embarassed in front of all those pretty girls, my dad started learning how to pray in case he was ever called on again.

Later on that same professor challenged him and his buddies to stay in their dorm on Friday nights instead of going out on dates and pray to find out if what they were reading in the Book of Mormon was true. They did just that. My dad received a personal witness that the book was true and that was the beginning of my dad's conversion. The buddy that was not active became more active and went on to serve a mission and hold leadership positions in the church. His nonmember buddy joined the church and sadly was killed in a hang gliding accident shortly thereafter.

While in college, my dad heard other guys talking about going on missions. They were always so excited to be talking about them. They would go and then he would never see them again. He knew there had to be something more to this mission thing. He decided he wanted to go on one too and at the age of 22 he was called to the Andes Mission. The Andes Mission at that time was mainly Peru. Shortly after he went down there his mission president told him he was chosen to open up a new area in the mission called Chile. My dad was among the first missionaries to open up Chile. My dad told about how he had to find a building to hold church in. He found a little apartment to rent that held about 12 people. He set it up like a church with pews and a pulpit and a table for administering the sacrament. That week 17 people showed up for church. My dad knew that little apartment would not work so he got permission to rent a house that held a little more people and he set it up the same way and in a matter of weeks that bigger house became much too small. Again my dad found an even bigger house, this time so big that they could live in one part of it and hold church in another part. They held dances in the courtyard and the membership continued to grow and grow. Later on the church bulldozed that same house to make room for the first LDS chapel in the area.

My dad still receives emails and letters from people whose lives he touched from his missionary efforts in Chile. Now the members of his ward will get to see first hand just how much my dad loves the gospel and the people in it. He left a legacy in Chile and I have no doubt he will leave a legacy in his ward. I love you, Papa.