By Ken Craig
In July of 2004 I had taken a new job at a public relations firm. The job came with an increase in pay, a chance to focus on something I enjoyed, and the promise of not having to wear a tie every day, like I did at the bank where I previously worked. (Plus at my new job, there was a bottomless bucket of Red Vines in the break room at all times. It was like a “loaves and fishes” kind of a thing. They just kept multiplying!)

With the increase in pay, my wife and I thought we should look for a larger home to house our burgeoning family. (Our posterity was going through a “loaves and fishes” thing as well.)

We found a house and our realtor and lender both took an aggressive approach to convincing us to move in. And even though we looked at the numbers and it was absolutely clear there was no way in this or any parallel universe that we could afford the house that they seemed to think we could afford, we really, really, really wanted to do it. So much so that we were prepared to close our eyes to the facts and optimistically purchase a home that was clearly out of our price range.

That very next Sunday our bishop stood at the pulpit and preached the counsel of not living outside our means. He spoke powerfully. He spoke spiritually. He spoke specifically about home loans. My wife and I turned and stared wide-eyed right at each other.

Actually, that’s not true. She turned and stared at me. I was trying not to make eye contact with her; I knew her look meant that we would not be purchasing a new home. And I wasn’t yet prepared to give up my dream of enjoying a home with a more private bathroom. One that didn’t include All
Access passes for my children, who had learned at some point that when
Dad is in the bathroom, he is trapped. They have a captive audience, and it’s an opportunity to tell me the details of their day, get my opinion on their outfit, or – and I wish I were making this up – cram a drawing they made for me under the door so I can compliment their artistic abilities.

But, I digress. We both had our answer. We had received counsel from our priesthood leader, and we knew we would be blessed for following it. We knew that that counsel, in that exact moment, was for us. So we stayed in our smaller-but-adequate home. Instead, with my pay raise, we paid off some consumer debt. We built up our savings. We fortified our food storage supply. And then, only three months after starting my new job, I lost it.

The company was struggling, and as I was the last one hired, I was the first to go. But thanks to a priesthood leader who was close to the Spirit and magnified his calling – plus my wife’s ability to be immediately obedient to such counsel, we couldn’t have been more prepared for the four months of unemployment we experienced.

We had savings. We had food storage. We had no debt (especially the crushing debt of a home we couldn’t afford). I had education and experience. And we had a bishop with access to the Bishop’s Storehouse – a ward full of loving individuals and families who came to the support of our family.

There were friends, family, and ward members who extended themselves, trying to make sure we had a merry Christmas. We found countless plates of Christmas treats on our doorstep, as well as gifts. We felt the prayers of those we knew, and felt with each handshake or hug that people were aware of us and wished us, with very real sincerity, great blessings and happiness. I suppose what we felt was love. Pure and simple.

And finally, more than anything, I felt constant confirmation that the Lord was aware of my family. In addition to praying for specific blessings and seeing those blessings come to fruition on a daily basis, we knew we would be watched over because we had always paid an honest tithe and a generous fast offering, and we had the conviction to continue doing that, even while I looked for a new job. Specific blessings were bestowed upon us, but we were also blessed with a general sense of peace, comforted in knowing that things would work out.

I started a new job right after Christmas, and things returned to a normal routine. But I will always look back at the end of 2004 and remember it as one of the sweetest times in my life. A time when I learned that if “[we] are prepared [we] shall not fear.” (D&C 38:30) A time when I learned how it felt to receive charity from fellow saints. A time when I received many adorable drawings from my children, delivered to me via cramming under the bathroom door.