Jesus Christ, the Master Teacher

It’s an honor to stand before you today and to feel of your incredible energy and spirit. Dear students, we love you deeply here at BYU, and we are committed to your eternal success. We’ve eagerly awaited your arrival, and we pray daily for each of you. We take seriously our responsibility to offer you a faith-filled, Christ-centered, prophetically guided education.¹ Please know that when you step onto this campus, you are stepping onto sacred ground.

I also want to wish a very warm welcome to our new freshmen—you hold a special place in my heart. I know this new chapter will bring challenges, but that’s often when God shows up most clearly in our lives. Watch for Him. If you let Him, He will guide you throughout your journey at BYU.

The Stories of Our Lives

I vividly remember one experience from my own freshman year at the University of Arizona. It was a bright, sunny day, and I was nervously preparing for my first finals. I stopped by the institute of religion to study, and while walking down the hall, I ran into a friend from my astronomy class. When I told him I was studying for our final that day, he looked at me in shock and said, “Sarah! That final was on Monday—two days ago!”

Panic set in. I grabbed my backpack and sprinted to my professor’s office. Breathless and sweating, I knocked on his door. He confirmed the worst: the time for the exam had passed and grades were due in thirty minutes. Shaking his head, he offered a last resort—an oral exam.

For the next half hour, he grilled me on the material. When I would give a shaky answer, the wrinkles on his face hinted I was off track—silently urging me to keep going. I don’t remember the grade I received, but I know I didn’t earn an A. What I did gain was far more lasting: a powerful lesson in responsibility, humility, and grace. I’ll always be grateful for that professor’s unexpected mercy.

This experience has never left me. I have picked this story up again and again in my life. It’s almost as if I have picked up a ball and turned it over and over in my hands to see if I can see something I may have missed before. Could I have really been that unorganized and forgetful? And how was the professor really that compassionate toward someone who decidedly deserved a failing grade? In fact, I have shared this story multiple times in myriad college classrooms over the years in an attempt to help my students see that I understand the pressures of college life.

As a literacy researcher who has studied the power that comes from being able to read, write, speak, and listen, I have seen evidence of how vitally important stories—and specifically our own stories—are in helping us make sense of our lives. Storytelling isn’t just a personal process but a communal one: When we speak our truth, we often help others discover theirs.

We revisit the Savior’s parables often, always finding new layers of meaning. I remember when I realized that the five wise virgins didn’t share their oil because it wasn’t theirs to give.² Only our own light, drawn from Christ, can be shared. Or when I realized I am the prodigal son.³ Even in my worst moments, the Father celebrates my return with open arms and undeserved grace. 

And I continue to learn from the parables of workers paid equally despite unequal hours,⁴ of a woman’s tireless search for a lost coin,⁵ or of the time an assumed enemy dropped everything to care for and show mercy to a wounded man on the roadside.⁶ Our Savior, the Master Teacher, knew the enduring power of stories.

But what about our own stories? How often do we revisit the chapters of our lives seeking new insight? Our lives are full of stories—some messy, some redemptive. Over time we become both author and reader. But what if we invited a coauthor?

Verse 2 in Hebrews 12 reminds us of the importance of “looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith.” What a powerful invitation to let Him shape our story—not just edit it but write it with us—offering meaning, grace, and direction.

President Camille N. Johnson described what it means to invite Jesus Christ to become the author and finisher of our story:

Letting God prevail, letting Him be the author and finisher of our stories, does require us to keep His commandments and the covenants we have made. It is our commandment and covenant keeping that will open the line of communication for us to receive revelation through the Holy Ghost. And it is through the manifestations of the Spirit that we will feel the Master’s hand writing our stories with us.⁷

Some stories from our lives may still feel too painful to revisit, but I encourage you to choose one to study anew. For me, that story is my mother’s. Her father struggled with alcoholism and was largely absent, leaving his family without the support they needed. Given that history, you might expect my mother to view family life as fragile or untrustworthy. Instead she became the mother of thirteen children. I heard her say more than once that she would take as many children as God would give her.

How did that happen?

Over the years I watched her grapple with grief and try to define a relationship with a father who had caused so much hurt. But she didn’t shy away from sharing the hard truths of her experience. She kept returning to her story again and again—but now each time with the Savior at her side. Slowly, fear and anger gave way to compassion, understanding, and even love for someone who, by most standards, didn’t deserve it. 

My mother’s story is a powerful example of what it means to rewrite pain into purpose. Through my mother, generations have felt the strength of a redefined legacy—one centered on eternal covenants, healing, and joy in our Father’s plan.

The other day I pored over images of my childhood home. I grew up the eighth of thirteen children on a farm in the dry desert of southern Arizona. I stumbled across the words my mother wrote to accompany these photographs:

Dear Ones,

Home is where one starts from. There will be memories stirred a bit by these pictures—mostly pleasant, we hope. The time will come when the house, the trees, the sheds, and the fences will be no more. We’ll all find ourselves a cemetery residence. But lasting through all the ages to come will be our covenants that can make us an eternal family in an eternal home.

Decades later I found myself at my mother’s bedside, caring for her in the final stages of her life and her earthly story. One of the most sacred experiences I will ever have in this life was watching this mother say goodbye, one by one, to each of her thirteen children whom she so carefully raised and loved. This was a woman, a mother, a wife, a sister, and a daughter who understood deeply the author and finisher of her faith and story.

In my own life I have seen the power that sinks in when a story continues to be written over time. Let me now share a story from my own life that surprisingly continues to be rewritten. At the age of twenty-seven, I gave birth to our second baby girl. At six weeks old she entered the hospital for three days straight as she battled a respiratory virus. Simultaneous to this event, I had been called to be Relief Society president. I found myself overwhelmed, exhausted, and worried sick about how I was going to fulfill my responsibilities in my Church calling and motherhood at the same time.

My doctor had advised against making home visits with our sick infant, and I had a three-year-old daughter who also needed my care and attention. That evening I had a fitful night’s rest and felt engulfed by the feeling of failure on all fronts.

I got up in the middle of the night and sat in the rocking chair rocking my baby back and forth, back and forth. I poured my heart out to God in prayer during those wee hours of the morning, explaining my predicament and pleading to God for direction on what to do. In that dark room, seven words came to my mind with more intensity than I had ever felt before. These words were “Treat her like she is your last.”

I pondered what those words could mean. By morning I had decided that God was encouraging me to pour my heart into caring for my two sweet daughters and to rely more heavily on my counselors and secretary to fulfill my Relief Society responsibilities. And so I did.

Over time I would pick up the story again, pondering its message that I knew came directly from God. Five years later, my husband and I found ourselves unable to bring more children into our family. My heart ached as I recalled dreams of having a large family like my own mother did.

But as this story came to my mind once again, those seven words took on new meaning. I remember shuddering at the new realization of those words. I understood that the words “Treat her like she is your last” were actually God’s way of preparing me for the reality that she would be my last baby. He didn’t explain it that way to me at the time because He knew it would be far too painful, and I would have grieved and complained at my circumstance instead of truly enjoying my sweet baby. All these years later, I acknowledge and thank God for His sweet and thoughtful care for me—such a gift!

And yet the ache of not having another child haunted me. For years I would silently count the number of children that other families had and use that as a measure of my own righteousness and worthiness in God’s eyes. Over time I worked my hardest to trust God’s plan for me. I finally began to feel some peace as I studied again the parable of the talents, in which one was given five, another two, and yet another just one talent.⁸ I committed then and there that I would take the number of children God had given to me and make the most of these incredible blessings and talents. Over time my heart healed as I accepted the path that God had placed me on, even though it differed from my original plans.

Fast-forward a few decades to when I unexpectedly picked up this story from my life again. This time I found myself in the office of the academic vice president at BYU. He was interviewing me about the possibility of my becoming dean of the McKay School of Education. Never in my wildest dreams had I planned or sought for a position such as this—let alone becoming a professor. And yet, over time, this unimagined life has become my story.

Academic vice president Justin Collings said, “Tell me a little bit about yourself. Tell me your story of how you got to this place.”

Imagine my shock and surprise when the words that came tumbling first out of my mouth were the words God had put on my heart decades earlier: “Treat her like she is your last.”

Then I explained the importance of these words to the vice president. While the astonishment of sharing that story didn’t make much sense to him, tears fell as I walked back to my office in a drizzling rain. In that moment I realized that those seven words weren’t just about healing my heart but were now about realizing that God had a different plan for me—from the beginning. I realized that my life wasn’t an alternative or backup plan that I was living. No, this was His plan all along: plan A.

I felt a wave of His deep love for me—His daughter—wash over me. And I was reminded again of President Kevin J Worthen’s plea to all BYU students: “Please, let Him love you.”⁹

Interestingly, my story doesn’t end there. You see, a few weeks after my visit with the academic vice president, I was asked to give this devotional. In preparation for this talk, I was struggling—as I think most do with the stress of selecting a topic for a talk. I thought briefly of sharing this story of mine but opted for a less personal story. That is, until one of my seven brothers sent me the following email:

Sarah, I feel I should share some impressions I’ve had over the last couple of days. . . . I know you would have liked to have had more children, but for whatever reason it was not in the cards. I look at you kind of like Rachel, who also desperately wanted more children but likewise didn’t get what she wanted. But look at the quality of her children.

With your current job/calling, the Lord has carefully prepared and called you with your superb talents to have a profound influence on literally thousands of youth and children. That is no mistake. Oftentimes it is not the path that we would choose that the Lord puts us on. But He’s got you where He wants you. I have no doubt.

I read my brother’s email and wept, knowing that his email was God’s way of reassuring me once again that my interpretation of this particular story from my life was accurate and that I was on the right path—His path for me specifically.

Can you see how He lets others write parts of your story too? Do you see how God continues to teach and instruct, using the same story over and over throughout your life? He might work through new ways of thinking and understanding but use the exact same words and messages. The same has been true for my patriarchal blessing, as I’m sure it has been for your own blessing.

This experience reminded me of the iconic sculpture that sits just outside the David O. McKay Building on this campus. An article in BYU Magazine shared the following:

In 1975, for BYU’s centennial, the university held a competition inviting concepts for new works of art to be placed on campus. Frank J. Nackos (BA ’65) designed the winning Tree of Wisdom. . . . “My hope is viewers first enjoy the aesthetic beauty of its ever-changing form when walked around,” says Nackos, “but it’s also my hope that they can see the duality of a tree form.”¹⁰

When you look at the “tree” from one angle, you can only see the branches. When you look at the tree from another angle, you can only see the roots. In other words, when you look at your story from one angle, you may only see the branches. But looking at it from another angle, you begin to see the roots.

Your “Mess” Becomes Your Message

What story of yours might be a good one to revisit? Is there a story that the Master Teacher would love to help you unpack and rewrite? Sadly, we often see these stories of ours as some of our biggest mistakes or where things went wrong. By picking up these stories again and again, we allow the Savior to help us rewrite them in ways that can make us whole.

As you ponder and reconsider one of your stories, let me share with you a framework that I learned when I came to BYU that has helped me and can help you make sense of your story. This framework is officially known as the Aims of a BYU Education, but really it’s a set of four questions to help you make sense of what you have learned after an experience. The four questions to ask while pondering a story in your life could include the following:

1. What has been “spiritually strengthening” about this experience?
2. What has been “intellectually enlarging” about this experience?
3. What has been “character building” in this experience?
4. How can this experience lead me to “lifelong learning and service”?¹¹

In other words, how does my “mess” become my message? Let me share an example of what this might look like.

One of my favorite stories in the Book of Mormon is that of the brother of Jared. In the book of Ether we read how the brother of Jared, under the direction of God, built eight barges so his people could travel across the ocean. And as with most stories, there are problems and challenges.

One of the problems the brother of Jared faced was that he needed to know how to get light into the barges as they traveled across the sea. In Ether 3 we read about his decision.

After he had made sixteen small stones, the brother of Jared pleaded with the Lord, “Touch these stones, O Lord, with thy finger, and prepare them that they may shine forth in darkness” (verse 4).

The brother of Jared then demonstrated his incredible faith in God: “Behold, O Lord, thou canst do this. We know that thou art able to show forth great power” (verse 5).

And “behold, the Lord stretched forth his hand and touched the stones one by one with his finger,” and the brother of Jared was stunned to see that the Savior’s finger “was as the finger of a man, like unto flesh and blood” (verse 6).

The brother of Jared fell to the ground, “and the Lord said unto him: Arise, why hast thou fallen?” (verse 7).

The brother of Jared explained that he had seen the Lord’s finger and was then surprised to learn that it had been his own faith that had caused the veil to be lifted (see verses 8 and 9).

We then see a miracle outlined in verses 11 through 13:

And the Lord said unto him: Believest thou the words which I shall speak?

And he answered: Yea, Lord, I know that thou speakest the truth, for thou art a God of truth, and canst not lie.

And when he had said these words, behold, the Lord showed himself unto him.

Now, here are the four questions:

1. What was spiritually strengthening? 

We are taught in this miraculous experience that the brother of Jared not only saw the finger of the Lord but then also saw His full body. This experience alone is the ultimate in spiritually strengthening experiences, isn’t it? But the brother of Jared also learned the important lesson that it was his faith that had brought about great miracles, and exercising this kind of faith enables us to draw closer to God than in any other way.

2. What was intellectually enlarging? 

The brother of Jared learned how to build a vessel. He could definitely add boatbuilder to his résumé. He also learned to problem-solve while seeking the answers for how to obtain light and air while traveling in the ocean. And he certainly learned survival skills while on this impressive voyage.

3. What was character building? 

There are many characteristics that come to mind while pondering those that the brother of Jared developed from this experience. Just to name a few: patience, creativity, hard work, persistence, responsibility, leadership, faithfulness, and devotion.

4. How did this experience lead him to lifelong learning and service? 

The brother of Jared would go on to save his people as they traveled across the sea to a new land. I don’t believe his understanding of the Savior stopped growing after standing in His presence. This spiritually strengthening experience would no doubt become a pivotal moment in his life as he taught others about God and then served God, his family, and his people all the days of his life.

As I have revisited the parables and stories in my own life, the more I have started to see God in them. I have begun to see God’s hand in what Samuel of the Old Testament taught in 1 Samuel 7:12:

Then Samuel took a stone, and set it between Mizpeh and Shen, and called the name of it Ebenezer, saying, Hitherto hath the Lord helped us.

Ebenezer—or “stone of help”—represents those places in our story in which we can see God’s help. The more I see the Lord’s role and involvement in my life, the more I learn to trust Him with my story.

As President Russell M. Nelson has taught:

When I speak of having confidence before God, I am referring to having confidence in approaching God right now! I am referring to praying with confidence that Heavenly Father hears us, that He understands our needs better than we do. I am referring to having confidence that He loves us more than we can comprehend, that He sends angels to be with us and with those we love. I am referring to having confidence that He yearns to help each of us reach our highest potential.¹²

There are so many great examples of students across campus who are choosing the Master Teacher and letting Him into their stories. We see students using their talents and His light to create beauty.

Isn’t this rendering of the Provo City Center Temple sketched by a student beyond amazing? And here is a picture of another student who, like many others, set everything aside to serve Him and to shout His name from the rooftops. [Two pictures were shown.] Both of these stories come from my very own University 101 class. These are students who have given their pen to God and have allowed Him to write this important chapter of their lives. I know this act alone will make all the difference in their final story!

Our Heavenly Father and the Savior, Jesus Christ, know our whole story—not just this part of our story but the before, middle, and end. Whether we acknowledge it or not, the Master Teacher has already become a coauthor of our story. His Atonement is the climax within all of our stories—if we choose to accept His offering on our behalf.

In my course designed to equip future educators with the best practices for teaching children to read, I emphasize the power of graphic organizers—tools proven by research to significantly boost reading comprehension and retention. One of the graphic organizers I introduce is the classic story map. You know the one—it has designated spaces for setting, time, main characters, supporting characters, problem, rising action, climax, falling action, and resolution.

On one particular day I invited my students to use this organizer to map the life story of the Savior. It’s a story I knew we were familiar with. The students eagerly began filling in the boxes, discussing scenes and details with reverence and curiosity. As I walked from group to group, I noticed a common omission. Every group had left out one crucial main character.

I paused the class and said, “You’ve all done a great job identifying the main characters in the Savior’s life story, but you’re missing someone essential.”

One student responded with confusion: “But Professor Clark, you told us to include only the main characters!”

Another student added, “Yes, we’ve got them all—Mary, Joseph, Martha, the apostles . . .”

Frustration was building in the room.

I shook my head gently. “No, you’ve overlooked someone very important.”

From the back of the room a voice called out, nearly in a shout: “Who? Who did we forget?”

I smiled and said, “You. You forgot to write your own name as a main character.”

A quiet stillness settled over the room.

I said, “You are a main character in the Savior’s story—always have been, always will be. The only person who can remove your name from the most powerful and most loving story ever told is you.”

Yes, just as much as the Savior is an integral and key character in our own story, we too are a main character in His story. It is His hope that we will remain forever a part of His story.

Your Faith in Jesus Christ Is Your Superpower!

Now, let me share one final aspect of engaging with the stories in your life. My encouragement would be that we each learn to lean more deeply into our stories with more faith and power than we already do. The more we lean into our Heavenly Father and learn from the Master Teacher, the more amazing our story becomes. Here is an example of such a story shared by Elder Jacob de Jager.

On one occasion, during a severe storm, a fishing boat was in distress, and a rowboat went out to rescue its crew. The waves were enormous, and each of the men at the oars had to use all his strength and energy to reach the unfortunate sailors.

When the rowboat finally reached the fishing boat, one of the victims had to stay behind because the rescue boat was too small to carry everyone. The rescuers made it back to the beach, but the crew was too exhausted from their fight with the storm winds, the waves, and the sweeping rains to make the second trip.

The local captain of the coast guard asked for volunteers to make the second trip. Among those who stepped forward without hesitation was nineteen-year-old Hans.

When Hans stepped forward, his mother panicked and said, “Hans, please don’t go. Your father died at sea when you were four years old, and your older brother, Pete, has been reported missing at sea for more than three months now. You are the only son left to me!”

But Hans said, “Mom, I feel that I have to do it. It is my duty.”

Hans boarded the rowboat, took the oars, and disappeared into the night.

After more than an hour, the rowboat came into sight again. When the rescuers approached the beach, the captain of the coast guard called vigorously against the storm, “Did you save him?”

Hans rose from his rowing bench and shouted with all his might, “Yes! And tell Mother that it is my brother, Pete!”¹³

This story is the perfect example of what happens when we exercise faith and trust God more fully with our story. Somehow our efforts and obedience become the greatest storyline ever, and it far exceeds even our own expectations. We must remember that God’s imagination and creativity are far beyond our own. So even in those moments when we lose all hope and want to give up, we must continue to demonstrate our faith so that our story becomes one of beauty instead of ashes.

Over the years I have taught this to my two daughters—Anne and Elise—and I will continue to teach this to my adorable little grandsons—Jack and Henry—again and again: God is the grandest storyteller of them all. He hopes that we will surrender the pen to Him so He can add His own words to our life story and into our hearts.

Can you imagine just how our story changes when we invite the Master Teacher to write it alongside us? Hans-Georg Gadamer’s epigraph translates Rainer Maria Rilke’s poem in a way that captures this concept so perfectly:

Catch only what you’ve thrown yourself, all is
mere skill and little gain;
but when you’re suddenly the catcher of a ball
thrown by an eternal partner
with accurate and measured swing
towards you, to your center, in an arch
from the great bridgebuilding of God:
why catching then becomes a power—
not yours, a world’s.¹⁴

As you think about the power that comes from leaning in more fully into the story you are creating, let me close with one final thought. Have you ever considered that you too can borrow the pen and write a chapter in God’s story? At first glance this may seem to be a bold assertion, but I have found from my own experience that it is true.

I love Sister Jennifer Kearon’s powerful advice that she shared in a BYU devotional not long ago. She explained:

Some of God’s surprises are wonderful, some confusing, some difficult to navigate, and some perfectly heartbreaking. But hold on to Him through it all. If you have eyes to see and if you choose faith, He will surprise you with His goodness and love. He will surprise you with His wisdom and foresight. He will surprise you with His miracles and His perfect divine design for your life. He really is that good.

So, surprise God right back! . . . Surprise Him with your faith. Surprise Him with your loyalty—to Him and to His prophets. Surprise Him with your worship—privately at home, publicly at church, and in His holy house as often as you can get there. Surprise Him with your persistent repentance—don’t you give up. Surprise Him with your joyful, consecrated life. Surprise Him with your choice to choose Him always, because He always chooses you.¹⁵

Let me end this devotional in the same way I close the very last day of my classes each semester. I tell my students that I always end class with the same four words. My students then earnestly try to guess what those four words might be.

“Remember who you are?”

“No.”

“Rise and shout, the Cougars are out?”

“No. That’s seven words.”

After more guesses and laughs, I share the following four words with conviction: “I’m not going anywhere!”

What I mean is that I’m telling my Heavenly Father and my Savior, Jesus Christ, “I’m not going anywhere!” I’m committed to Them forever. No matter what happens in my life, in the Church, or in society, I’m not going anywhere! I’m not going anywhere! I’m not going anywhere!

Did you know that you can decide this today? This is how we can write our own chapter within God’s story—through our commitment, testimony, and covenant keeping. We become a main character in His life as we demonstrate our eternal loyalty to our Heavenly Father and our Savior, Jesus Christ.

I love to include these four words in my personal prayers. These are some of the most powerful words I have ever said aloud, and they have made all the difference in my own story. Whenever my students and each of you think of me and my testimony, I hope you will remember that I am committed forever to this gospel and to God our Heavenly Father and His Beloved Son, Jesus Christ—no matter what! I’m not going anywhere! And I hope you might consider doing the same.

With humility and gratitude, I share these words in the name of Jesus Christ, our Master Teacher, amen.

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