In Malachi, the last book of the Old Testament we are taught that paying tithes and offerings opens the windows of heaven, thereby granting us wonderful blessings. I love the imagery created in this metaphor. Windows in heaven, blessings being poured out in abundance and protection for the fruits of our labors.
As with most scriptural metaphors there are many simple truths conveyed in this imagery. One such truth is that Works of Faith bring promised blessings through opening up the windows of heaven. A Work of Faith acts like a key, which when used can open heavenly windows and heavenly doors. And although this scripture is specifically speaking about tithing, all Works of Faith bring with them attendant blessings.
What other keys, works of faith, can you think of that grant access to God’s richest blessings?
A partial list could include baptism, preceded by faith and repentance which allows us the opportunity to receive the gift of the Holy Ghost. Covenants with God, again preceded by faithful obedience to God’s commandments, which grants us access to His holy house, where we can receive additional blessings and saving ordinances.
Let’s return to the imagery of heavenly windows and keys that open them. How are they opened? And by whom? Depending upon where you are in your mortal progression you may already have in your possession several of these keys. But did you know that everyone, old or young, in poverty or abounding in wealth, born here or anywhere in the world has a personalized, very very special key that opens the windows of heaven?
How cool is that? We each must be pretty special to have been entrusted with a key of such importance. What key am I referring to, you may ask? The answer, the KEY of PRAYER. But the real question is, what will you do with your key? Will you hide it away for safekeeping? Will you bring it out only for special occasions? Will you use it often? Everyday? Multiple times each day? All the time?
To offer a sincere prayer requires faith. And as we learn from James in the New Testament, to be effectual faith must be accompanied by works or action. So what is the action needed to insert the prayer key, to turn it and unlock the windows of heaven?
Throughout the New Testament we are taught repeatedly, “ask and ye shall receive” and “knock and it shall be opened unto you.” Sometimes we fail to appreciate that not only are “asking” and “knocking” demonstrations of faith, but they also qualify as forms of work, the very work or action required to turn the key to unlock heaven’s blessings.
“Prayer is a Work of Faith.”
In the Bible dictionary, under the heading of prayer, we read, “Prayer is the act by which the will of the Father and the will of the child are brought into correspondence with each other. The object of prayer is not to change the will of God but to secure for ourselves and for others blessings that God is already willing to grant but that are made conditional on our asking for them. Blessings require some work or effort on our part before we can obtain them. Prayer is a form of work and is an appointed means for obtaining the highest of all blessings.”
Prayer opens the windows of heaven and what pours out are blessings that God is already willing to grant to us, but that are made conditional on our asking for them. Pretty awesome. No wonder it’s so important to pray always and about everything.
We live in trying times, times requiring faith and works. Times requiring patience and perhaps some long suffering. Times where the world and it’s elements are in commotion, and evil presses upon us from every side. But even in the midst of the darkest, most turbulent events of mortality the key of prayer can not be jarred from our grasp. Nor can it be hidden in the most remote reaches of the globe or buried in the deepest parts of a broken heart. The key of prayer will always be accessible to those who desire to open the windows of heaven.
It is understandable that from time to time we or someone we love may feel alone, that our prayers have gone unheard and unanswered. President Kimball assured us:
“God does notice us, and he watches over us. But it is usually through another mortal that he meets our needs. Therefore it is vital that we serve each other in the kingdom.”
Since God’s pattern is to bless our lives and answer our prayers through help from others, we too must be prepared and watchful for opportunities to be God’s eyes, ears and hands.
Several years ago, upon completion of a week long service trip to Bolivia, my family planned to return home via Iguacu Falls and Sao Paulo, Brazil. I was anxious for them to meet the members and see some of the places where I had served as a missionary nearly 25 years before. Along with our younger children we were accompanied by our recently married daughter and her husband, Brent. Brent had also served as a missionary in the Brazil, Brasilia Mission.
After nearly a week in Bolivia, our dental service project was completed. We headed for the airport early the next morning, Friday. At the ticket counter, much to our surprise, we learned that our visas were incomplete and that we needed updated yellow fever vaccination cards since we were traveling to Brazil via Bolivia. An unexpected glitch which resulted in a big change in plans. What you might at first glance call a detour, but upon closer inspection I think you’ll agree the hand of God was in the miracles that followed.
The rest of the day was spent frantically running from place to place. First we went to a public vaccination clinic, then to get new passport photos, then to the Bolivian consulate, and finally at about 2:45 p.m. to the Brazilian consulate in La Paz to get permission to enter Brazil. We arrived with only moments to spare. For the first time that day I felt some relief, thinking that we would finally be on our way to Brazil.
Brent and I waited in line at the Brazilian consulate until after 3:00 p.m. When we got to the front of the line, the head official at the consulate was friendly but not sympathetic to our recent misfortune. He stated that to process the paperwork would take several hours. It was Friday and he couldn’t possibly get to our applications until Monday or Tuesday of next week. As we turned to share the disappointing news with the family, a feeling of despair washed over me. I felt exhausted. The week’s activities had finally caught up with me, and any energy from the anticipation of going to Brazil quickly dissipated.
This latest turn of events took its toll on everybody: all of our children and even my wife were visibly saddened. Mikaela, our youngest daughter, began to cry. Silently I repeated the prayer that we had each carried in our hearts throughout the day. As I did so, a clear impression came into my mind. I understood the prompting as clearly as if a voice had spoken it. It was to travel to Argentina. I repeated the idea out loud, and everybody agreed that this would be our next best alternative since we could not enter Brazil.
We returned to the rental car, where our travel agent was waiting, and asked her if this would be possible. She told us Argentina did not require visas and made the necessary arrangements. The next morning (Saturday) we were on a plane for Buenos Aires. Our Bolivian travel agent tried to book us through to the Argentine side of Iguaçu Falls, but unfortunately there were no planes with any availability for two or three days.
After a short flight we arrived at the international airport in Buenos Aires. Leaving the airport terminal in Buenos Aires, we were swarmed by people who were selling their taxi services. I accepted the services of one gentleman and then did not feel comfortable with him when he insisted we needed to split up into two separate cars because of the size of our group and the number of bags that we had. Just then a much larger van drove by. The illuminated sign in the widow said “fuera de servicio”, “out of service”. I flagged him down. He was off duty but said he would take us to our hotel, as it was on his way home.
I explained to him that we were interested in traveling to see the falls of Iguaçu from the Argentine side, but that there were no flights available from the international airport. He recommended we try the much smaller regional airport. He explained they were not online and that a travel agent from outside of the country would not even be able to check the flights on their computers. After checking into the hotel, I went to the airport, and, sure enough, we were able to get all eight of our party onto a flight early the next day (Sunday).
On Sunday morning we arrived on the Argentine side of the falls. Again we were fortunate enough to find a very helpful driver. We checked into a hotel overlooking the falls. The setting was spectacular. In the afternoon we walked a narrow footpath leading to the bridges which allowed us to walk out over the river leading to the falls.
That evening we gathered as a family for dinner. We reflected on all of the events which had transpired in the last 48 hours. We were grateful for how perfectly everything had fallen into place following our decision go to Argentina. All agreed that immediately after our change of plans they felt an inner sense of peace. There were still many unknowns and variables, but they were neither overwhelming nor distressing.
Following dinner our children went up to their rooms to go to bed. Billie and I sat quietly with a great feeling of contentment as we waited to receive the bill for our meal. When the bill came I asked Billie what she thought I should tip our waiter. Earlier in the day I had been told not to tip 20% because it would embarrass the server. A couple dining at a nearby table overheard our conversation and caught my attention. The wife gestured, holding up both hands and indicated that 10% was customary. As we were leaving the restaurant we stopped at their table to say hello. We assumed they were probably Americans.
They complimented us on our lovely family and asked why we were vacationing in Argentina. We explained that the prior week we had been working with a dental service project in Bolivia. They introduced themselves as the Claytons, and they too were in Argentina on a service mission. He explained that he was there with his family for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He was serving as the Area President and was a member of the First Quorum of the Seventy.
You can imagine our pleasant surprise at meeting members of the church in such a remote location. They nodded their heads politely and smiled, as if they had guessed as much about our family before we ever came over to say hello.
Elder Clayton then proceeded to share with us that Paraguay was the poorest of the countries in his area. Furthermore he explained there was a group of members, the Nivacle (Ni-va-clay) Indians, who lived under the most humble of circumstances in the village of Misotlar, several days journey from Asunción. These faithful members had joined the Church over 20 years ago when missionaries baptized their entire village. Since that time they had experienced many difficult trials and through them had remained very faithful. He explained that a second group of approximately 300 Nivacle members had established another city closer to civilization (approximately six hours outside of Asunción), which they called Abundancia (Bountiful).
A warm feeling washed over Billie and me and tears began welling up in our eyes. We knew we were not there by accident or some strange coincidence. We had no doubt there was a divine hand involved with the events leading up to this meeting. Billie and I retired to our room with a sense of great anticipation. It was clear in our minds, we needed to organize a dental service trip to help the Nivacle Indians.
Now fast forward one year, June of 2004. We arrived in Asunción, Paraguay on a Saturday afternoon. We traveled for six hours by bus to a Mennonite town called Filadelphia. Early Sunday morning we traveled for another hour to Abundancia. The last portion of the journey was on a bumpy dirt road which was impassible during the rainy season.
The Nivacle live in an area referred to as the Chaco, a dense jungle of brush, bushes and low-lying trees. Looking down the dirt road in the far distance I caught a glimpse of a steeple that pierced the canopy, the first sign of what we imagined would be a small, humble church building. As we got closer, to our surprise a beautiful chapel came into full view. Its beauty and design were very much like the chapels back home.
Chapel in Abundancia
A dirt road passed in front of the chapel and then extended less than a mile before dead-ending into the dense Chaco. The simple road was lined on either side by humble homes made of sticks and mud (like adobe). The roofs were made of various materials ranging from corrugated sheet metal to grass thatching. Many of the homes had low fires burning in open rock pits in their front yards.
We were given a tour of the building by the district president, a young returned missionary of Nivacle descent. At 8:45 a.m. our group of 25, made up of dentists, assistants, and family members, went and stood in front of the building. After 15 minutes, only the building’s caretaker had shown up. We began to wonder if anyone was going to attend church today. Brother Dibble, a member of the mission presidency and an employee of the Church Educational System, said not to worry. He explained, “There isn’t a clock or watch in the entire village.” Then with confidence in his voice he added, “They will be here.” A few minutes later at the very far end of the dirt road, a young man dressed in a white shirt and tie walked out into the street and then began walking toward the chapel. As he passed each dwelling, families began emerging from their homes. The women were dressed in colorfully decorated dresses, and the men wore white shirts and ties. By the time the young priesthood holder reached the chapel the street behind him was filled with members. Soon we were surrounded by hundreds of smiling indians, greeting, hugging and teaching us some simple Nivacle words.
We entered the church and took our seats. The pews were filled to capacity. There were no gaps between members or families on the benches. The chapel was so full that there were many members standing in the overflow area at the back of the room. The opening song was sung a cappella by the combined branch choirs of Mistolar and Abundancia. They sang in four-part harmony. The Spirit was strong and the music so beautiful I closed my eyes and could easily imagine a choir of angels singing.
Following the administration of the sacrament Brother Dibble stood and beckoned me and the district president to stand alongside him at the podium. Turning to the Nivacle president and gesturing towards us he asked, “Do you know how these members from so far away came to be here in Abundancia?” A rhetorical question I thought, which would undoubtedly be followed with Brother Dibble’s recounting of how our family met Elder Clayton in Argentina. To my surprise, with tears in his eyes the district president responded humbly, “Yes. We prayed them here.” A simple truth. They had prayed in faith, God had heard their prayers and events were set in motion to prepare the way for His answer to their prayers. No further explanation was needed.
During the days which followed we all became aware that while we had come to bless them with our service, we were the ones who were truly blessed to be in the midst of such humble and faithful followers of Christ.
When we set out to go to Paraguay I was sure we had been prompted to go there to serve. I have since come to know it was for my family’s benefit that we were detoured from our chosen path to the path Heavenly Father wanted us to walk. In the act of serving we were served and our testimonies were strengthened immeasurably. The power of prayer is real, heavenly answers to our most heartfelt pleas are forthcoming if we will but have faith to ask and wait on the Lord.
“God is eagerly waiting for the chance to answer your prayers and fulfill your dreams, just as he always has. But he can’t if you don’t pray, and he can’t if you don’t dream. In short, he can’t if you don’t believe. ”