The Passing of a Great Man--A Prophet of the Ages

There have been many tributes to President Gordon B. Hinckley over the past week. He passed away on January 27, 2008. As with any major event in a person's life, I remember where I was and what I was doing when I heard the news. My kids and I like to watch Extreme Makeover on Sunday nights. The news cut into the program and I learned from the newscaster that President Hinckley had passed away about an hour before.

I was surprised, but then again I wasn't surprised. I thought, "He's finally been released from his earthly calling--at the age of 97." He was an amazing man. Tireless. Someone that I can only hope to emulate a glimmer of what he was.

What else can I say that hasn't been said by countless others? I remember re-reading the Book of Mormon one year--although I thought I was on overload for doing it. But I firmly believe that when a prophet issues a challenge, it should be followed.

I met the Hinckleys on numerous occasions--at the Polynesian Cultural Center when I lived in Hawaii with my husband. When my father-in-law (former PCC President) "retired" from his position, we had a dinner in his honor at the Joseph Smith building. I think almost every apostle was there, including President Hinckley. I met him and his wife, shook hands, and we posed for a picture. My grandmother kept that picture on her fridge for many years.

When I wrote Volume Two of my Out of Jerusalem series (A Light in the Wilderness), Marjorie Hinckley had recently passed away. I remembered the raw grief that President Hinckley had shown at her funeral. I wanted to try to identify with Ishmael's wife as she was forced to bury her husband in the middle of the wilderness--and walk away from his grave and leave him in a foreign land. I re-read through President Hinckley's words of utter loss and loneliness, and tried to capture the same devastation for the family of Ishmael.

The advice that President Hinckley has given over the years is truly priceless and close to my heart. Counsel about children, church service, scripture reading, tithing, staying out of debt, marriage . . . have all profoundly affected me. I think the one thing that always stands out in my mind was his counsel to "Do your best."

What more can we do if we are doing our best?

Many times I feel overwhelmed and wish that I had no cares, no worries, more time to relax . . . If I just commit to do my best, it will all work out.

This morning my husband and I went to President Hinckley's funeral. After weeks of snow storms, today dawned bright, cold and clear. The sky was a brilliant blue, the clouds fluffy and white. We sat in the enormous conference center and waited for the funeral to begin. On the big screens we saw the funeral procession heading for the building. Then we watched the families approach the underground door, and gather to watch the casket transported on a moveable platform. The apostles lined up at the entrance into the auditorium and the casket was wheeled past them.

Even with all of this formality and grand setting, I was struck by the simple nature of the proceedings. Here was a quiet, unassuming man who had touched literally millions of lives.

The general authorities took their usual places, except for the seat between President Monson and President Eyring was empty.

The speakers spoke in loving, hushed tones of his legacy of service and love for others. They heralded his sense of humor, his affection for youth, his tireless work. They identified that he, like us, grieved deeply for his wife. But he put on his shoes and went back to work.

A few days ago, I watched the Glen Beck segment in which he pays tribute to President Hinckley. Beck said he passed up on an opportunity to meet President Hinckley and shake his hand for fear of coming across as a "fan." Now he regrets that decision. "I" was able to shake his hand. But whether or not anyone of us have met him in person, his goodness and influence reaches deep into our hearts, wherever we are.