He Spoke I Went

During Stake Conference, our mission leader Sister Holmes gave a talk about redwoods which I felt impressed to share.

She spoke about the magnificent California Redwood — trees that soar over 300 feet into the sky, standing as some of the tallest living things on earth. What struck me most wasn’t their height, their age, or even their beauty.

It was their roots.

Redwoods do not have deep taproots. In fact, their roots are surprisingly shallow — often only six to twelve feet deep. By themselves, that wouldn’t seem sufficient to hold up something so massive. And yet, these giants withstand coastal storms, heavy winds, flooding, and even earthquakes.

How?

Their roots grow outward — sometimes extending over a hundred feet — and they intertwine with the roots of other redwoods. Beneath the surface, unseen to the casual observer, there is a vast network of connection. They literally lock together. Their strength is collective.

A redwood does not stand alone.

As I listened, I couldn’t help but think of the Lord’s description of Zion in Moses 7:18: “And the Lord called his people Zion, because they were of one heart and one mind…”

Zion is not simply a place. It is a people — spiritually intertwined, united in Christ, and committed to lifting one another.

During Tisa’s valiant battle with cancer, I came to understand this in a way I never could have otherwise. It was our family, friends, and church community — disciples centered on Jesus Christ — who surrounded us. They brought meals. They sat quietly in hospital rooms. They prayed when we were too exhausted to form words. They lived the Savior’s teaching to lift up the hands which hang down and strengthen the feeble knees. They mourned with us when we mourned.

There were days when our roots felt shallow. Days when faith felt fragile.

But we did not stand alone.

The strength of our church family, focused on Christ and bound by sacred covenants, held us steady through a long and sacred journey. I learned that enduring faith is rarely an individual achievement. It is often a collective one.

Serving now as a missionary, I see that same divine pattern unfolding here in South Africa. In humble garages, beneath simple canopies, and inside repurposed buildings, Saints gather because the Savior taught in 3 Nephi 18:22: “Ye shall meet together oft…”

They meet together to pray. They meet together to partake of the sacrament. They meet together to strengthen one another and to praise and learn of Christ.

The buildings may be simple. The congregations may be small. But every time the Saints gather, roots intertwine. Faith deepens. Zion grows.

That realization has caused me to reflect on my own root structure.

Am I nourishing it daily through sincere prayer?

Am I strengthening it through consistent scripture study?

Am I consciously utilizing the power of the Atonement of Jesus Christ to repent, refine, and move closer to Him and to Heavenly Father?

Am I providing Christlike service that binds my roots to others?

Am I thoughtfully partaking of the sacrament each week, renewing covenants that anchor me to the Savior?

These quiet, consistent practices are the unseen roots of discipleship. They are not flashy. They are not dramatic. But they are what allow us to stand tall when storms come.

The Lord is growing His people here — one heart, one mind, one covenant at a time.

Redwoods grow tall because their roots grow together.

As we examine our roots daily, nourish them intentionally, gather often, and anchor ourselves in Jesus Christ, we too will stand tall like the majestic redwoods.