Yesterday I had the opportunity to attend the memorial service of a young man I grew up with. Shawn Anderson and his little brother, Shane, had hiked out to a cabin to spend a night and then return home. The next day as they were hiking out, they had troubles finding the trail due to a snowfall. Shawn and Shane decided to spread out with the idea of keeping within ear shot. This plan failed them. Shane made it to the road and waited for about an hour thinking that at any minute Shawn would come out of the woods. Another hour went by and Shane called Search and Rescue. They said that because it was already dark, there wasn't anything they could do until morning. The next day Shawn was found; he was laying on the ground next to a pile of sticks that he was unable to make a fire. The most heartbreaking part... he was just 100 feet from the road. The service yesterday was full with people who loved Shawn. There wasn't any one particular speaker at this event. It was open to anyone and everyone who wanted to share their memories of Shawn. I had no intentions of standing up and saying anything simply because I hadn't seen Shawn since high school. However, as I sat there listening to others, my chest began to burn.
I knew the spirit was pushing me but I wasn't sure why. As I thought to myself, what would I say? Then the answer came, all I needed to do is bear my testimony. So I stood there, in front of a bunch of people that I do not know, that I know don't share the same faith as me, and I bore testimony to them of our Heavenly Father's love for us and of His divine plan. I felt the spirit so strong and that alone was worth the experience.
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