Inspiring Short: “You Gotta Believe”

Inspiring Short: “You Gotta Believe” | Matthew O. Richardson

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“President Holland, have you ever been so discouraged that you didn’t know if things would ever work out? Did you ever worry that you might not make it after all?”
He looked at me through the rearview mirror and answered, once again to my surprise, “Yes, I did.”
BYU advancement vice president Matthew O. Richardson shared a story from his time as a student when Jeffrey R. Holland was BYU president.
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"At the beginning of my senior year at BYU, I began worrying whether I was making the right decision about my future. I was taking entrance exams for graduate programs and even submitting applications, but nothing felt right. To find some guidance, I interviewed doctors, lawyers, businessmen and -women, teachers, and pretty much everyone who had a pulse. Nothing clicked. Lisa and I started fasting and praying for direction. Nothing happened. We kept on praying and fasting.
One day in the fall Lisa asked me if there was anyone who could possibly help me with whom I hadn’t yet already talked.
Without a moment’s hesitation, I said, “Yes. If I could only talk to the president of BYU, Jeffrey R. Holland, that would clear everything up.”
So Lisa, who possesses more passion, compassion, and faith than Joan of Arc, Mother Teresa, and Esther of the Old Testament-combined-said, “Then you should go and talk with him!”
“Are you crazy?” I thought. What would I say? “Um, excuse me, President. I am one of the 30,000-plus students at BYU. Will you please tell me what I should major in?” Oh please!
Instead I muddled my way through the next seven or so months trying to figure it out. But I couldn’t seem to get my bearings. I felt as if I were in a fog. It felt as if everyone else was receiving revelation, direction, and confidence.
The irony was that while I knew that God would answer the prayers of any who asked with sincere intent, I still wavered in knowing that He would answer my prayers. And when it seemed like it mattered the very most, I felt a little alone-abandoned and even hopeless at times. I reached a point in which I didn’t care so much about what I did for a living as much as I cared about receiving divine direction. It was clear that I wasn’t standing up very straight, my hands were hanging down, and my feeble knees needed strengthening.20
Just several weeks prior to graduation, I attended my senior capstone classes in the basement of the Jesse Knight Building. As I prepared to leave the building, I noticed a crowd gathered at the west doors. I worked my way to the front of the doors and discovered that the reason no one was leaving was because it was raining-a complete downpour. Having taught at the MTC earlier that day, I was dressed in a suit. I can almost hear myself saying, “Typical, just typical,” as I looked outside at the rainstorm and sized up the situation.
I put a Daily Universe newspaper over my head and started running through the parking lot. The newspaper turned to a pulpy mush, and I was soaked almost immediately. So I walked-slowly.
“I might as well catch pneumonia and be sent to the hospital,” I thought. I was in a blue mood.
As I walked past the Brimhall Building, I heard someone yell out, “You need this more than I do!”
I looked across the street, and there was President Holland holding up an umbrella. I offered an exchange of my backpack for his umbrella. He responded by opening the rear passenger door and offering me a ride home. I ran across the street, got in, and immediately created a little puddle of water on the backseat. Sister Holland, who was already in the car, greeted me as President Holland got into the driver’s seat.
“Where can I take you?” President Holland asked as he looked at me through the rearview mirror.
My wife and I were managing apartments south of campus, and I hesitated telling him where I lived because I didn’t think he would be very impressed. But with the president of the university looking me in the eye, albeit through the rearview mirror, I confessed the name of the complex.
President and Sister Holland chuckled, and President Holland said, “Pat and I managed those apartments when we were undergraduates at BYU.”" - Mattew O. Richardson

Пікірлер: 18

@nicholasyork2396 Жыл бұрын

Here I am at BYU having these same thoughts. An answer I needed❤

@dallincandland 3 жыл бұрын

I give this a watch at least a few times a year. I have been blessed to have similar experiences and tender mercies. The Lord’s tender mercies truly can bind up our wounds and keep us going when nearly nothing else can. I am so thankful for those!