"We Ever Pray for Thee, Our Prophet Dear"

Last Sunday in our ward sacrament meeting, we sang a hymn that always gives me flashbacks.

"We Ever Pray for Thee," Hymns no. 23
Text: Evan Stephens, 1854-1930

1. We ever pray for thee, our prophet dear,
That God will give to thee comfort and cheer;
As the advancing years furrow thy brow,
Still may the light within shine bright as now.

2. We ever pray for thee with all our hearts,
That strength be given thee to do thy part,
To guide and counsel us from day to day,
To shed a holy light around our way.

3. We ever pray for thee with fervent love;
And as the children's prayer is heard above,
Thou shalt be ever blest, and God will give
All that is meet and best while thou shalt live.

The hymn was written as a tribute to Wilford Woodruff on his 90th birthday in 1897, and conveys the love and reverence that latter-day saints feel for those who dedicate their lives in service to God and His church on earth.

Assembly room in the Salt Lake Temple

While I sang that venerable hymn with my ward on Sunday, I reminisced to a time over two decades ago. I enjoyed the rare and sacred privilege of participating in a meeting in the upper assembly room of the Salt Lake temple for those serving as bishops and stake presidents. Sitting in the front were the members of the Quorum of Twelve Apostles and the First Presidency. President Gordon B. Hinckley presided, sitting with his counselors above the Twelve on the podium.

At some point in the program, we were invited to stand and sing Evan Stephen's song expressing love and support for the leader of the church. As can be imagined, to sing about "our prophet dear" while in his presence is particularly moving; and to ponder the words of that hymn in such a setting is a special gift.

As we sang, I noticed something that I will never forget. I was seated fairly close to the front and had a great view of all the brethren. They were in varying degrees of "advancing years" as well, with their own furrowed brows. My heart reached out to these good men. Many who were there are now gone: Elders Monson, Packer, Perry, Haight, Faust, Maxwell, Wirthlin, Scott, and Hales.

It was interesting to watch the brethren singing; like all of us, they have varying degrees of musical ability and appreciation, and participate in different ways—some with more "enthusiasm" than others. In the middle of the group, seniority-wise, was Elder Russell M. Nelson. He loves to sing and play the piano (it's said that he has "perfect pitch"), and it was evident he was singing with gusto and feeling. However, I quickly noticed something about him that is deeply impressed upon my memory.

As we were singing those words of appreciation to "our prophet dear," Elder Nelson several times turned and looked over his shoulder, upwards at President Hinckley. It was very evident from Elder Nelson's expression and demeanor that he was truly feeling the words he was singing. His song was in fact a prayer, "with fervent love" and "with all our hearts." It was not hard to tell that he loved the Prophet and truly sustained him in all the best ways. That act alone endeared him to me in a way that I will never forget.

The years have passed; President Nelson is now the one well past his 90th birthday. He is now the one who bears the burden of presiding, and for whom we pray with love and concern. But there is a light within that shines from him, and I join those who fervently pray that the light will continue for as long as possible in God's wise plan. President Nelson, like his associates who work at his side, is not perfect; he is not infallible. But he is a good, sincere, devoted, faithful man fulfilling a divine call from God.

I will never forget seeing Elder Nelson physically turn to face the prophet as he sang his prayer of love and hope. Now, my invitation is to face the right direction and offer the same devotion. May God truly bless "our prophet dear"!