It was the Fall of 1976, and my first semester in college. It was also my first time on my own. I was sitting in a Freshman English class when the instructor asked us to write a paper addressing this thesis, “Man: The highest form of life or the lowest.”

I scarcely hesitated; I chose lowest, and wrote my paper defending my position. Now, in my defense at that time I was not a Christian. I knew very little of God and His doctrine. My formative years had been on the ranch in the mountains of Idaho. I spent countless hours hunting, fishing, running trap-lines, and even though I was a just a kid, I was very attuned to mother earth and the abuses heaped upon the natural systems by rapacious men and corporations. I had strong opinions that lead to that position.

Well, I turned in that paper – think I even got a good grade on it – but strangely, I felt guilty. I felt that I done something terribly wrong, but I had no idea what it was or why. Now, how badly I felt at that time is reflected by the fact that I so vividly remember to this day that one paper out of the hundreds I wrote in my college career.

Well, a few months later, my course of life was changed. I was baptized and began to search the scriptures. For the first time in my life, I began to pray and search for God; I wanted to know. I suppose that is what set the stage for the story I want to tell you now.

It was a warm sunny summer day a few months after my baptism. I went to visit one of my friends, Emma. We were sitting in her living room, she across the room to my left, and we were just chatting. I remember though that the conversation had nothing to do with what happened next. It came suddenly, out of nowhere, filling my mind and heart with light and warmth!

A voice – more like an impression really – spoke softly but powerfully, “You are a son of God.” It – it seemed to course through me. I was thrilled and filled with joy that lasted for days! I wanted to shout it out, “I am a son of God! He loves me!” But I didn’t know how and I was afraid people would think I was crazy.

That day changed me. I had not prayed for that knowledge, or even knew that such knowledge even mattered. Yet, from that day forward, I knew who I was, and I comprehended what I was. And it made all the difference in how I behaved from that day forward.

I am God’s son, and He loves me, and I know that! And I understood now why I felt so guilty with that paper. We are not the lowest form of life. We are not half-breed chimpanzees, the end product of evolutionary accidents. We are sons and daughters of Almighty God. He is our Father, and He loves us!

And yes, men still do behave imperfectly; sometimes even cruelly, but when they know who they are – who they really are – and they really know, well, they understand then that perfection is their potential, their duty, their inheritance. They have something to become.

My friends, I believe we cannot go home until we learn from whence we came. (JST Luke 13:25)