A Living Legacy

Last night, we were with my family celebrating birthdays when we received a call from my brother, David; he lives in Utah, and had some breaking news that he figured we had not yet heard. As we sat around the living room of my parents' house, the sad news rang from the speakerphone throughout the house. We all sat there, equally stunned and saddened about the news of the prophet's death. There was discussion about his life, his age and his impact on our church over the last 12 years.

Today I've read through various news articles, websites, and posts from fellow bloggers, on the passing of President Gordon B. Hinckley. As I pondered on my feelings about this amazing man, I thought back on some of the things he accomplished: presenting the Proclamation on the Family, which he delivered during the General Relief Society meeting in September 1995 - I remember thinking those words were divinely inspired and would have a lasting impact on my life; the significant increase in the building of numerous temples (including small temples) - each conference, I remember waiting with great anticipation to hear the new site announcements; the challenge to read the entire Book of Mormon during the last four months of 2005. While I could continue to fill pages with the many things he accomplished during his tenure as president of the church, there is one thing that struck a chord with me when I first heard it, and which continues to resonate within me today.

Above Popular wrote, "Every six months he got up during the General Conference of the Church and told the members how well they were doing at living the gospel, and then told them ways that they can improve. 'We're are doing great, but we can always do better'." That single idea best describes him as a person, a prophet and a man of God. He loved and lead the members of the church, praising all for the good work we'd done, but then quickly raised the bar to push us to become better.

That counsel, which he frequently uttered at the close of general conferences, was to "stand a little taller... be a little better, a little kinder, a little more generous, a little more courteous, a little more thoughtful, a little more outreaching to others". Remembering his accomplishments is important, but if I truly want to honor the life of this sweet man, that one piece of counsel is something I should never forget.