Buddhist Catholic Contemplative Evangelical General Christian Hindu Jewish Latter-day Saint Muslim New Visions Progressive Christian

Beliefs

Topics

Columnists

Resource Library

Research Tools

Video

Podcasts

Thought Readers

Faith In Media Tracker

Newsletters

Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In Subscription Support

Follow Patheos

Home
Latter-day Saint
A sacred experience of my brother’s

A sacred experience of my brother’s

Last updated on: August 2, 2026 at 5:55 pm by Dan Peterson

0 Comments

A sacred experience of my brother’s 2026-08-02T17:55:49-06:00 Dan Peterson

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

A view of Rose Hills Memorial Park, in Whittier, California, where my parents and paternal grandparents and many other of my relatives are buried. It’s sacred ground for me. (Wikimedia Commons public domain image)

Today, I’ve chosen to record an experience that was related to me many years ago by my late (and still sorely missed) brother, Kenneth. He and now his widow are both gone, and I don’t know how widely he related to others what had happened. So I’ll record it here. First, though, a bit of background:

My brother took over the family construction business in Southern California after our father stepped away from it. Fairly commonly, the business used subcontractors to perform certain tasks that we didn’t choose to handle “in house.”

One of the occasional subcontractors — I think that I may have met him myself once or twice, but I certainly didn’t know him well — was a man whom my brother described to me as socially isolated, with a wife but otherwise apparently without many friends. Yet, although their interactions were purely business-related, he and my brother got along reasonably well.

This is not yet the story that I intend to tell, but it will help to set the stage: When the man’s wife died, my brother decided to attend her funeral, which was to be held (I believe) at Rose Hills Memorial Park, in Whittier, California. As the time for the funeral drew near, however, he felt strongly impressed, even though it was a grossly inefficient move, financially speaking, to shut the company office down and take the secretaries and the office manager and the two or three other office staff with him to the funeral service, which was to be held only about half an hour away at the cemetery. Upon arrival, he was very grateful that he had brought others with him, because there was essentially nobody else there for the funeral in the mortuary chapel. (Maybe — my memory isn’t precise on this — they were altogether the only guests at the service.)

My brother Kenneth, gone far too soon.

Now, though, on to the specific story that I want to relate here. My brother called me in the afternoon from California to tell me about it, I think on the very day that it happened:

One morning, months after the passing of the man’s wife, the subcontractor called my brother in his office to discuss an upcoming construction job. My brother thought that he sounded a bit odd, even a little weak, and it seemed that the call was coming from some sort of public place. Kenneth asked him if he was alright, and finally elicited the information from him that he had evidently suffered several mini-strokes and that he was calling from a hospital bed. The call ended with Kenneth wishing him a speedy recovery.

Then, though, my brother felt urged — by the Spirit, we would say — to go and actually visit the man at the hospital. Kenneth resisted the urging. He had an unusually busy day ahead of him, he reminded himself. A crowded schedule. There were many things to do and to oversee, and he couldn’t afford the time for a hospital visit. Maybe that evening, or the next day. Or something. He wasn’t even sure that he needed to pay the man a visit. They weren’t that close, after all. But the urging was powerful and persistent.

So, reluctantly, he drove to the hospital, determined the room number of the subcontractor, and paid him a visit. In fact, they visited for a fairly long time, and my brother felt good about it. He had, he thought, done some good.

As he left the hospital, though, and began walking through the parking lot to his car, he felt a strong prompting to return and to offer the man a priesthood blessing. Again, he resisted. He had already spent more time with the man than he could possibly afford. He had offered a gesture of goodness and kindness. But he had business that urgently needed his attention. And, anyway, the man wasn’t a Latter-day Saint. He didn’t expect a priesthood blessing and, for that matter, probably didn’t even know what a priesthood blessing was.

So he continued to walk toward his car. As he drew closer to it, though, he was shocked by a loud, commanding voice — later, he told me, he couldn’t tell whether it was internal or external to him — that said “How dare you! I told you to go back to the hospital and to offer him a blessing!” And, Kenneth told me, he had the distinct impression that, had he reached out to the door handle of his car, it might have burned and blistered his hand.

He turned around, returned to the man’s hospital room, explained the basic idea of a priesthood blessing to him, and asked if he would like such a blessing. The man said that, yes, he would. Very much. My brother gave the blessing, although there was no second priesthood holder there to assist him, and then he returned to his car and to the remainder of the day’s obligations.

He sobbed as he told me of what had happened. Even during his tenure as a bishop, he said, he had never received a prompting that was as powerful and distinct as this one.

But he was puzzled as to its significance. Why was it so important to return and offer the man a blessing? The following day, though, the subcontractor called the company office and, speaking to our office manager, commented that Kenneth was his best friend. (Which was a rather sad thing, if true, because they had never really been socially close.) Perhaps, my brother later reflected to me, that simple thought was the point of it: It was a way of letting the man know that he wasn’t really wholly alone, that there was someone who cared about him.

I don’t know. I suspect that we’ll only understand such things after this life is through. I think it very important, though, to try to listen for such promptings and to act upon them — even if we don’t know the reason and perhaps never learn it in mortality. I’m not especially good at this, but I value and admire the ability in other people that I know. (President Thomas S. Monson was a model in this respect.)

Previous Post

August 2, 2026

A sacred experience of my brother's

Next Post

August 3, 2026 Some notes on Ancient Iran and Its Pre-Islamic Religion

Recent Comments

0 | Leave a Comment

"In a meeting today, I learned another important reason why accurate (or at least as ..."

the PROBLEM

From Serbia’s “White City,” Belgrade

"PL: "Let's hope he doesn't have your address..."I have to frankly confess that a few ..."

DanielPeterson

From Serbia’s “White City,” Belgrade

"Let's hope he doesn't have your address..."

Phil Leaning

From Serbia’s “White City,” Belgrade

"PL: "The layers are peeling back."He appears to be suffering under an odd but powerful ..."

DanielPeterson

From Serbia’s “White City,” Belgrade

Browse Our Archives

Select a Category Uncategorized

Select a Month October 2026 September 2026 August 2026 July 2026 June 2026 May 2026 April 2026 March 2026 February 2026 January 2026 December 2025 November 2025 October 2025 September 2025 August 2025 July 2025 June 2025 May 2025 April 2025 March 2025 February 2025 January 2025 December 2024 November 2024 October 2024 September 2024 August 2024 July 2024 June 2024 May 2024 April 2024 March 2024 February 2024 January 2024 December 2023 November 2023 October 2023 September 2023 August 2023 July 2023 June 2023 May 2023 April 2023 March 2023 February 2023 January 2023 December 2022 November 2022 October 2022 September 2022 August 2022 July 2022 June 2022 May 2022 April 2022 March 2022 February 2022 January 2022 December 2021 November 2021 October 2021 September 2021 August 2021 July 2021 June 2021 May 2021 April 2021 March 2021 February 2021 January 2021 December 2020 November 2020 October 2020 September 2020 August 2020 July 2020 June 2020 May 2020 April 2020 March 2020 February 2020 January 2020 December 2019 November 2019 October 2019 September 2019 August 2019 July 2019 June 2019 May 2019 April 2019 March 2019 February 2019 January 2019 December 2018 November 2018 October 2018 September 2018 August 2018 July 2018 June 2018 May 2018 April 2018 March 2018 February 2018 January 2018 December 2017 November 2017 October 2017 September 2017 August 2017 July 2017 June 2017 May 2017 April 2017 March 2017 February 2017 January 2017 December 2016 November 2016 October 2016 September 2016 August 2016 July 2016 June 2016 May 2016 April 2016 March 2016 February 2016 January 2016 December 2015 November 2015 October 2015 September 2015 August 2015 July 2015 June 2015 May 2015 April 2015 March 2015 February 2015 January 2015 December 2014 November 2014 March 2014 August 2013 February 2012

TAKE THE

Religious Wisdom Quiz

True or False: Cornelius was a Roman centurion who was the first Gentile convert.

Select your answer to see how you score.

TRUE FALSE