The Hollow of His Hand

By Jerry Mack Grubbs
 
As the time approached for my release as Bishop of the Young Adult Ward, I became apprehensive about being able to emotionally let go of all those ward members whom I had come to love so much. My mind raced back to when the previous bishop had been released, and how he suffered during that adjustment. My release was not a surprise. I was instructed when I was called to be bishop that the call was for three years and my release would happen within a couple of weeks of that time frame.
 
The Stake President informed me that I would be replaced the coming Sunday. The night before that Sunday, I poured out my heart to Heavenly Father to help me through this adjustment. The main thing that I wanted to do was make sure that I did not create problems for the new bishop, yet I had come to view these young adults as my own. The instruction that had come from the Stake Presidency was: we love you; we appreciate what you have done for the ward, now please step aside and let the new bishop do his job. I had strong reservations about being able to emotionally step aside.
As I retired for the evening, I was very restless. I did not want the next day to ever come. I could not bear the thought of not being at the Ward with the young adults. I had no desire to return to my home ward. I just wanted things to stay the same way they had been for the last three years. At the beginning of my call as bishop I had never dreamed that I would come to love the members of the ward so much. Now it was all coming to a crashing end. As I drifted off to sleep I experienced the following dream:
We were on a ward outing up in the mountains. The surroundings were familiar, but I was not sure where we actually were. We were hiking up a river drainage with everyone having a great time. Some were having water fights and others were just enjoying the outdoors and nature. I engaged in light conversation with several members of the ward as we worked our way up the shallow river. The bottom of the river bed was rocky, and I remember having to be careful how we stepped because of the slipperiness of the rocks. A couple of members lightly sprained their ankles due to the condition of the river bottom.
I was swept away in thought of how much joy and happiness the ward members had brought into my life. It was indeed the best, most enjoyable calling I had experienced in the church. I do not make light of the calling or imply that everyday was a holiday, but through the thick and thin of it all, I was very happy to be serving where I was.
A couple of the young men got carried away with the water fighting and had to be toned down a little. I knew that they were doing nothing different than l had done as a young adult. While thinking about their actions and my own past experiences, I felt an uneasiness wash over me. I first searched inside myself for definition of the feeling, but finding nothing of significance there, I began to be more aware of my surroundings. I moved a little ahead of the group so that I might listen and hopefully learn something concerning what was going on. I heard nothing. I saw nothing that should be of any alarm. I returned to the group and actually participated in some of the water fighting.
One of the sisters slipped on the rocky bottom and injured her knee on a large stone. I assigned two men in the group to help her. As I, along with the two young men, examined her injury, I felt that same uneasiness wash over me again. This time it was an even stronger feeling. Once again I moved ahead of the group, and this time I vocally expressed my concern and feeling of uneasiness to my Heavenly Father. I plead with Him to give me assurance that He would not leave us to our own demise and that if there was danger ahead that He would make it known to us so that we might properly prepare. As I finished my silent prayer I realized that there were no longer any birds singing or any other of the normal forest sounds. All I could hear was the sound of the river and ward members laughing and playing in the water. Although I still had no definition of what danger might lay ahead, I felt strongly that we should move up the embankment and get out of the bottom of the riverbed.
 
The announcement to move out of the water and up the embankment was not accepted with much enthusiasm. I had to become quite forceful with some of the young men. Eventually everyone complied with the request to travel along the higher slope. I noticed that some did not question the decision. They just accepted the request and moved up the bank without any complaining. Others were more reluctant, needing an explanation of why we couldn't stay in the water where the traveling was much easier. A select few refused to come up the embankment without being issued a direct order to get out of the water. Those same few tried their best to make the journey miserable for the rest of us through their complaining and whining. I remember a sister in the ward suggesting that I allow them to go back down in the water so the rest of us could get some relief from their bickering. I told her that I was the bishop of all the members not just those who willingly obeyed.
 
The way became very difficult as we hiked along the embankment. It was overgrown with briers and vines which made the passage very arduous. For a brief time I even began to doubt my feelings about the supposed danger. As I thought about my responsibilities to the members of the ward, the same feeling of uneasiness swept over me again. This time it was so strong that I immediately told the ward that we were going to get even higher up the embankment. I wondered if my own imagination was getting the best of me. I heard one young man suggest that a group break away and have their own hike where they could have some fun. My faithful counselors put a stop to that talk immediately.
 
Moving further up the embankment had only added to the difficulty of the way. We were in such dense undergrowth that I was fearful that we would become lost. Some of the weaker members were beginning to fatigue from the exertion. I once again poured my heart out to Heavenly Father for help. This time I was not asking why, but what I should do to protect the members from harm. What should we do and where should we go for safety? As I closed my silent prayer one of the more ambitious and energetic young men shouted that he had found a trail. We quickly moved over to the trail and the way became easy once again.
We followed this trail until it led us to a small rundown cabin. There was a shed near the cabin and I could see an old Chevrolet pickup parked inside. It must not have been used in years judging by the amount of dust it carried. I went to the door and knocked without expecting to find anyone living there. To my surprise an elderly lady answered the door. After a pleasant exchange I obtained directions from her how we could get back to a main highway. I encouraged her to come with us because I felt that a danger lay ahead for the area, but I could not define it. She declined the offer and wished us well.
 
We traveled on this well defined dirt road for about an hour when we decided to stop and have our lunch. We gathered under a large oak tree near the road. It appeared to be a land mark for it was taller than anything else around. Many members were now exhausted and just wanted to lie down and rest instead of eat. Some were still talking about how stupid all this was. One suggested that I had concocted all this as some type of weird teaching tool. Five young men and one sister wanted to go ahead of the group on the dirt road and get back to their car as soon as possible. I knew from the elderly lady's comments that we still had half a day's walk before getting back to our vehicles. I was about to give in to their demands when the thought came into my mind to climb the large oak tree and see what was on the distant horizon.
 
Climbing the tree was no easy task. There were no lower branches to grab onto. The members built a pyramid of human bodies to help me reach the first branch. As I climbed higher and higher, I sensed that something terrible was about to happen to this land. As I neared the top of the tree I could see in the distance a large forest fire. It was destroying everything in its path and was moving directly toward us. Behind the fire was a flood of water. I momentarily felt that the water would quench the fire before it reached us, and we could deal with the flood of water by all getting to higher ground. As I began to formulate my plan of defense, the spirit literally shouted to me that the fire would reach us before the water, and we must escape the area if we were to survive. I looked below me, down at the ward members who trusted me and looked to me for guidance and safety. I knew that I would do anything in my power to save them from this harm. Now they were all mostly lying down and resting from the difficult journey that had brought us to this point.
 
While descending the tree I made the decision to tell no one what I had seen with the exception of my counselors, the Elders Quorum Presidency and the Relief Society Presidency. I called a planning meeting and laid out the plan that I would return to the cabin with one strong elder and one strong sister. The rest would remain with the ward members to insure that they remained together until I returned. I selected physically strong members to accompany me because I knew that we would have to run all the way if we were going to get there and back in time to save the ward members. I took a sister to help persuade the elderly lady to come with us. I took a strong elder to help me get the old pickup started if possible. I knew that our only chance of getting out of there in time to beat the fire was with the old pickup. I didn't know how we could all possibly fit into the truck, but that was a problem I would face later.
 
Arriving back at the cabin, we found the elderly lady in her same congenial mood. She assured us that she would be fine and did not want to go with us. Before we could even ask, she suggested that if we could get the truck started we were welcome to take it to aid in our evacuation. As previously thought, the old Chevy pickup hadn't run in years. The three of us, with pushing, pleading and praying were finally able to get it running. We returned once more to the cabin and begged the lady to come with us, but she refused. Reluctantly we left her and headed back for the ward family.
By the time we returned, the smell of smoke was in the air and the ward members were almost in hysteria. Two young men had left on their own, stating that the rest were fools for waiting any longer. We loaded everyone into the pickup. To use the term "into the pickup" would be a lie. We had members on the hood, on the bumpers, in the back and on the roof. I counted eleven just in the cab and I still had to get in to drive. There was a feeling of excitement in the air. We had made a plan and that plan had worked thus far. We said a prayer of thanksgiving and prayed for our continued success. I began to squeeze myself under the steering wheel of the truck. I was almost in, but I couldn't get the door closed. No matter how hard I pulled, the door just wouldn't close. I turned my head back to see what the problem might be. There was another man's hand on the door, preventing it from closing. Just as I. saw the hand a voice said, "Bishop Grubbs, you will not be making the rest of this journey. Your job is complete. I'll be taking your place behind the wheel."
At first I was resistive to the voice. I said that the members were counting on me. They looked to me for safety and assurance of the future. Then, without another word being spoken, I knew that the voice was right and that my mission was complete. I stepped out of the truck and another slipped under the wheel. Some of the members upon seeing that I had gotten out of the truck jumped down and said that they were not going if I was not going. All of a sudden I knew that no matter what happened to me I had to persuade them to get back on the truck and flee the impending firestorm. With some coaxing they all got back on the truck with a promise that they would look for the others who had not chosen to wait.
 
As the old Chevy pickup slowly began to move forward the members turned and waived farewell to me. At first I was sad, but then I realized that although I may never see some of them again, no one could take away the sweet memories they had brought into my life; how they had accepted me, taught me, and loved me.
As the truck lumbered down the dirt road carrying its heavy load, I could hear the ward members singing the song "In the Hollow of Thy Hand." As the truck disappeared around a curve in the road, suddenly I was all alone. The thought came into my mind, what will happen to me? Is this where I will loose my life? Then, just as strong as any feeling I have ever experienced from the spirit, a voice whispered inside of me, "No, not yet, you have an elderly lady back at the cabin to take care of." I began to run with all my might and strength back down the dirt road toward the cabin. As I ran I began to plan how I would get her to go with me and how we would shield ourselves from this fire and survive the flood.
Most of my dreams are of little significance. But this dream did have significance. It rested upon my soul. It brought me the peace that I sought from my Heavenly Father to help me through this transition in my life. Did my dream make the transition and release as the bishop of the young adult ward easy? No, but it made it less difficult. I felt as though I was in the Hollow of His hand.