Lessons from Hyrum

One of my Church history heroes is Hyrum Smith, brother of the prophet, Joseph Smith. I thought today was a good time to reflect a little bit on Hyrum Smith since the Come Follow Me reading for the coming week includes some revelation given to Hyrum through Joseph Smith. 

I admire Hyrum for his loyalty, his faithfulness, and his humility. Hyrum went through some really hard things, particularly in his efforts to support his younger brother Joseph as he restored the Church of Jesus Christ. Hyrum even died for the cause after accompanying Joseph to Carthage where they were both put in jail. While there, the jail was raided by a mob, and Hyrum was shot in the face and in the back (at the Church History Museum, Hyrum's clothes are displayed, and you can see the bullet hole in the waistband. His death mask is also displayed, and you can see the place where the bullet entered his face).

M. Russell Ballard (who is a descendant of Hyrum Smith) gave a great talk about Hyrum back in 1995 that you can read here. 

{The statue of Joseph and Hyrum at Carthage Jail 

where they were shot and killed}

One of my favorite stories about Hyrum is from his childhood. When Joseph Smith was seven years old, he (and many other members of his family) had typhoid fever. Joseph recovered after two weeks, but contracted osteomyelitis, which is an infection in the bone. Joseph was in severe pain, and multiple attempts to reduce the swelling and drain the infection failed.

Lucky Mack Smith, the boys' mother, later recorded, "Hyrum sat beside [Joseph], almost day and night for some considerable length of time, holding the affected part of his leg in his hands and pressing it between them, so that his afflicted brother might be enabled to endure the pain" (History of Joseph Smith, p. 55).

This act of brotherly love stirs my heart. It was one of many acts of love from Hyrum and depicts the kind of man he was. 

One day, a couple of years ago, Scotty and I were busy in the house while the kids played outside. Eva took a fall and and scraped her leg. The other three kids carried her in the house, laid her on the couch, bandaged her leg, tucked her in a blanket, brought her milk, and turned on her favorite show. They did everything they could to make her feel better. By the time Scotty and I knew what was going on, they'd made her comfortable enough to drift off to sleep.

I was so touched by their love and concern for their littlest sister - it was a beautiful testament that they really do care about each other.

A few short days later my kids were out of control with their fighting. I sent multiple kids to their bedrooms, and we still had half an hour before we would leave for school. I couldn't figure out how we would survive that long under one roof without someone losing some teeth. While the kids were banished to their rooms, I sat on the stairs with my face in my hands, trying to not go ballistic. Then a thought came to me, "Tell them about Hyrum."

So I called my kids into the room and told them about Hyrum. I told them how much he loved his brother - how he held Joseph's leg while he was in pain, and how he later died with him. Then I reminded my kids of the day that they helped Eva after she fell, and I told them I was so proud of them for being like Hyrum Smith.

I didn't have to say anything about the fighting. 

I continually find that studying Church History arms me with knowledge that comes in handy for my own life. Hyrum’s experiences are no exception. He was a great example to those he interacted with in mortality, and he continues to be a great example to people like my children and me.