Early spiritual experiences of Stan Kivett

I was raised by parents who believed in God. When I was around ten or twelve we started attending a Christian church and I was surrounded by many quality young people who provided good examples. My memories of the people at Central Christian Church are all positive. They were kind, friendly, and engaged. A couple of the young men became friends and I spent some time with them outside the church setting. I particularly enjoyed Tom and Casey Hawkes. Tom was the Youth Minister at the church. They ministered to me with great love. I spent a lot of time at their house and didn't realize they were probably worried about me and were trying to help me get my feet firmly planted on a good path. I remember playing tennis with Casey and basketball with Tom. I went on a retreat with the youth group and was walking alone with Tom and said that I liked the song, "American Pie". He tried to engage me in a discussion about the meaning of the song, but I was apparently fairly shallow at the time and had not really considered the message of the song. I was very active in the youth program for a couple years. I went to regular Wednesday night experiences. I remember floating down the river with our youth group and falling asleep in the inner tubes in the back of the bus on the way home. I was an Alpha Teen and my sister was an Omegan. There were a couple Omegans who I respected very much. Scott and Kevin were particularly impressive young men. I asked them for advice on a few occasions. Once I wanted to become cooler by bringing music into my life and asked about good groups. That is where I came to love the group Bread. There were cute girls about my age at church. I was particularly intrigued by two of them. I had a silent crush on Cindy for months, and think I may have even talked to her once. Another of the girls at church was kind and friendly to me. We were also in band together. I particularly remember two times when she went out of her way to be friendly to me. One year I played on a basketball team in a league with the church. During the season, Jennifer and I were in the band room and she complimented me on my play. She was more popular than me and wasn’t trying to strike up a friendship--just be nice. One other time a year or two later she came into an ice cream store I was in and was kind and engaging again. By then, I had quit coming to Central Christian and was attending with the "Mormons". Jennifer set a model for me to follow in the future where you notice those who are struggling and try to show interest in them. I had another friend at Central Christian who was an impressive and intelligent young man. I bring him up because Tom Hawkes desired to nurture the two of us into the ministry. One day Tom took me to breakfast to discuss the idea of starting a program to prepare for the ministry. I am going to put this experience down as a spiritual experience, albeit an odd one. My response surprised even me. I loved Tom and would have done anything to please him. I also loved church and am surprised that I did not grab hold of this opportunity and run with it. Personally, I was intrigued with the offer, but something deep down in me made me run from it. There are a few times in my early life where I believe Heavenly Father knew I was not equal to a challenge and stepped in-- kind of putting his hand over me and intervening in my life. This was such an occasion.

For some reason, I felt I should not even investigate the offer. I told Tom a silly story of being involved with girls to get him to lose faith in me. Everything I said was the opposite of what I think I would have said without the feeling I was having. Tom left me alone after that conversation. Other than fleeting memories with attendance at Central Christian I don't remember much else that is important except a Wednesday evening activity where we tried to memorize scriptures. I remember going to an apartment of one of the leaders with a bunch of the kids and we spread out and tried to memorize as many scriptures as possible. They had cards with the scriptures on them. This was the first time I tried to commit scriptures to memory and began a lifelong pursuit that has been very meaningful. In another year or two I would be trying to memorize scriptures for a seminary class I was not allowed to attend. I remember mastering that year’s scriptures well enough that I took a test with my friends and did better than them. At some point around the time I was fifteen I started being interested in the Mormon Church. Most of my good friends were Mormon. Several were very kind to me. In ninth grade, I was kind of an obnoxious loud mouth, and a really good member of the Church--Kathleen Johnston, invited me to a party. When she invited me, she was really worried and made me promise I would be good at her party. A little later she pulled me aside and apologized for being concerned about me. She represents many people who were good examples from a distance: people who were not close friends, but crossed my path regularly and always had the light of Christ. My best friend's sister, Roseanne had several high caliber friends who fell into this category. I particularly remember them from band and choir. We took a music trip in my sophomore or junior year and someone started asking some of the members of the Church questions. Before long, I was fighting for the Church and answering questions. I suspect I must have done a pretty pathetic job representing the Church, but I do remember being a strong advocate on the bus trip. Another similar experience where I had a flash of devotion for the Church happened in my senior year. I had tickets to a John Denver concert and invited a cute and sweet Mormon girl whose name I cannot recall. After the concert, I brought her home and we sat on my car hood under the stars for quite a while talking about the Church. At the time, I was not being skeptical or asking questions, I was sharing testimony and devotion that was manifesting itself before its time. I love 1 Corinthians 4:5 which teaches that we should not judge things that happen to us too quickly because eventually God will bring the reasons things happen to us to light and then we will have praise of him. This happened with one of the first really hard things I encountered in life. I worked very hard to make our high school basketball team. But, we had three thousand students and a state championship team, and I was cut. I was devastated. I couldn't think of anything worse that could have happened to me. If I was more religious, I would probably have shook my fist at God. Instead, I had to settle for playing basketball with my Mormon friends. Our stake had an excellent sports program. We had a much better experience than I have ever seen offered in any stake I have been in since. We had long and good basketball, softball, football, and volleyball seasons. I have many wonderful memories playing many games.

During this time, Steve and I lived for sports. We would play pick up football and basketball games all the time in addition to our formal games. The Church had a rule at the time where you needed to attend one meeting a month to play ball. I needed my parent’s permission to play and attend. We had an intense meeting at my house where our coach came over to get my parents signatures for me to play on the ward team. They had our minister there and pushed back pretty hard. In the end, my parents gave permission for me to play and attend, but would not let me go to seminary. I began attending Church sporadically and soon attended regularly. I took my bible from my old church with me. It was green and called "the Living Bible". One day, Steve and a couple other guys were razzing me and asked when I was going to get a dead bible. I started reading the Book of Mormon when I was sixteen, but don't think I made it very far. I do remember one day talking about what I was reading and sharing how profound I thought it was when Laman asked Nephi the meaning of his father's dream and then was asked if he had inquired of The Lord. Laman's laziness and unwillingness to pray about spiritual things seemed absurd. That is my first memory of an experience with the Book of Mormon. From the time I was sixteen on, I was an active participant in our ward. I went to mutual and other activities as well as Sunday meetings. I starred in our roadshow and remember attending another stake's roadshow. I quasi fell in love with a girl for about a week because she looked so beautiful in her makeup. Once, I went with Steve and his dad on a father and son's outing. On the way back, everyone was asleep except Moroni and me. We talked for more than an hour about the Church. The McElhaney's were a powerful influence on me through many years. Much of what I am today I attribute to their kindness and patience with me. They treated me like a son and even paid for my mission. I lived with them before my mission when my parents were in between homes, and worked for Moroni on and off again for many years. They were very good to me. I mention patience because I was always sort of a loose cannon. I once was at a mutual swim party and pushed the bishop into the pool in his suit when he had dropped by before going to a meeting. That was the way I was, my brain was not always fully engaged and I could be very annoying. On one occasion, I had Roseanne and another girl on the hood of my car and started driving way too fast with them clinging on for dear life. I am sure her mom wanted to yell at me when I pulled back in the driveway. One of Roseanne's best friends was Jennifer Adair. She was an exceptional young woman. I still recall her happy and good nature. For some reason she died in high school. It was the first time I attended a Mormon funeral. It was an amazing experience. I left motivated and inspired. I felt things totally surprising to me. The Plan of Salvation took the sting out of Jennifer's death and put purpose into all of our lives. As I left the funeral I experienced something that has repeated itself for me at many funerals since: While I would have expected to be sad and depressed, I was instead motivated and grateful. If Steve and his family drew me toward the Church, a young woman who moved into the ward the summer after my junior year had an even more powerful effect. The

Theabold family came rolling into our little ward and made our young men's group very excited. All of the girls were cute and fun and church attendance took on a whole new dimension for me. I fell in love with Monica on a trip to Payson where we went to gather leaves the Laurels wanted to use for decorations. We sat in the back of a Suburban and spent most of the time hitting each other on the leg. She was so tough and fun. Shortly after that we went to the fair and sealed the deal. I put my arm around Monica on the Farris wheel and ended the night with our first kiss in their front yard as I dropped her off. Other than regular activity at Church, I don't remember many unique spiritual experiences through my senior year. I was growing in knowledge and keeping pretty busy with school, work, and love. Monica and I had almost two years of a relationship before I left on my mission. When I was preparing to be baptized, I carefully searched my past and identified every serious sin I had committed. I wrote down everything I could think of so that I would not cut corners during confession. I remember setting up an appointment with my bishop before my baptism and carefully confessing all my sins. I really was as sincere as I could be. I even called one person I felt bad about how I had treated to apologize, and went to a store to pay for something I had stolen. My parents wouldn't let me get baptized so I had to wait until I was eighteen to do so. On my eighteenth birthday I was baptized and it was a great experience. I went into the chapel by myself before the service and had a wonderful prayer. I was changed that day and took an important step forward in becoming a durable member. At about the time I was baptized, I started college. I went to Mesa Community College and worked delivering building materials and doing masonry work. At some point in the first part of 1978, I had to really decide whether I was going on a mission. Monica and I talked a lot about this and finally decided we would just get married. Thankfully we didn't follow through on taking the easy road. One night I kissed her and headed over to our bishop to tell him we were going to get married. He greeted me at the door and took me back to his office and started filling out my mission papers. When I left, I had mission papers begun and had not mentioned my marriage plans. I went back to see Monica and surprised her with my account of what happened. Before long, I was on the phone to Bishop Durrant explaining that I thought I wanted to get married rather than go on a mission. He was kind and understanding, but asked me to carefully pray about the decision. I don't remember if he asked me to fast and seek counsel from others, but that is what I did. Many people encouraged me to serve a mission. They said it would provide a vital foundation for my life. They were so right. I can scare myself thinking how close I came to not serving and the profound difference it would have made in my life. This was one of my early experiences with Ether 12:6 which warns that we receive no witness until after the trial of our faith. I could not see the importance of my mission until after I mustered the faith to go on it. One day I was driving to work with my old Priests Quorum Advisor and thought he would be the perfect person to ask since he had not served a mission. I was shocked when he too encouraged me to go and shared ways he felt it would have blessed him.

Finally, I decided to fast about my decision. This did not turn out to be an overly spiritual experience because I stupidly did it on a day I was working at my masonry job. I got so sick I had to lie down in the truck much to the consternation of the rest of the crew. At some point after that I decided it was time to have THE prayer. This was to be the most powerful spiritual experience of my life to that point and a defining moment for me. I was alone in my house and knelt on a green recliner chair we had. In spite of all the council I had received, I had decided to approach God and ask if it would be okay for me to forego my mission. Nevertheless, my heart was right and I was willing to be obedient to His will. I started praying and began to describe my position when I felt a stifling darkness come on me that just froze my mind. I couldn't think for a period of time and have never felt a stupor of thought more powerfully. I finished my prayer knowing that my decision was wrong and that my Heavenly Father wanted me to serve a mission. Somehow, I got up and moved forward on that course and never looked back. Before long, I had my call to the Iowa, Des Moines Mission and left October 3rd, 1978. I remember the trauma at the airport of leaving for Salt Lake City. My parents were there, but my most powerful memories are of Monica. I shook her hand and we both cried while she told me she would be there when I came back. I read an article once where the author described his sacrifices in going on a mission. He said, "I gave up something I loved for the God I loved even more, and he has never forgotten me for it." I feel the same way. I gave up a lot to go on my mission-- my car, schooling, personal desires, Monica, and my dad who would die while I was out. The sacrifice has blessed me far beyond anything I could have expected. This was the second step after my baptism that solidified my change into a new person in Christ. I was still in need of much growth, but my willingness to be obedient put me firmly on a new plateau in life. Leaving Monica and so many other things made me approach my mission very seriously. While I had a lot to learn about loving, I was quite good at being an obedient and dedicated missionary. While Monica was a distraction to a degree, she was also an inspiration. I was not going to leave her and then waste the experience. As a result I studied and worked very well. At some point in my mission, I think I caught up to most of the missionaries in terms of knowledge. I had been given a blessing of hungering for knowledge and was able to compensate for not being raised in the gospel through my mission. I regret being too much of a robot through my mission and failing to love my companions and my investigators as I should have. I didn't build the deep and lasting relationships I could have as a missionary. To be honest, that is still my weakness. Otherwise, my mission was a vital training ground for me. I had many leadership opportunities as a missionary and began to understand church government. I worked for seven months with my mission president as his Assistant and was very blessed by the opportunity. He taught me and nurtured me. He gave me advice that I have used throughout my life. By the time I had returned from my mission I had been drastically changed and was prepared to marry right and serve over the long haul. No single decision has impacted my life more deeply and importantly than my choice to serve a mission. I sometimes want to go back and hug that young man who has blessed my life

so richly. I don't know how he mustered the faith to do what he did, but I am so thankful he did. You would think I would record here several profound spiritual experiences from my mission, but I don't feel inclined to do that. I can recall a moment where I had a deep witness of the First Vision, and many times where I felt the spirit intensely. I love memories of teaching people and watching them feel the Spirit. I also love teaching opportunities I had where the Spirit taught me things to say. Once we were teaching a woman who had gone through eight or nine sets of missionaries--the bishop sent every new set of missionaries out to visit her. After spending more than an hour trying to answer her many incidental questions I tried to get her to pray. I taught her things I did not know, or at least had not formalized before I started speaking. I explained to her that she needed to increase her faith in her Father in Heaven. She needed to realize that He knew more than she did, loved her better than she loved herself, and wanted her happier than she could comprehend. She merely needed to let go and trust. I then tried to get her to pray, but first explained that she had to express her trust by telling her Father in Heaven she would do what He instructed her to do. I observed that in her previous prayers she had asked whether the Book of Mormon and the Church was true, but was only open to one answer. She had to be willing to hear that the Church was true and be prepared to act on the information if she received it. I boldly asserted that she had approached all of her previous prayers with a closed mind. I noted that until she was willing to act on the information she was requesting she would not be given anything. She gave a beautiful prayer filled with a lot of silence and asked to be baptized when she finished. Probably the most important shift I made during my mission related to my reliance on prayer. I spent the first part of my mission trying to talk people into the Church and the second part trying to get them to pray for their own testimony. My success improved tenfold in my second year. On the whole, my mission was a mass of experiences that combined to permanently change me. I became a disciplined and experienced member. When I came home, I was prepared to face the challenges of schooling and marriage with a strong foundation. Monica and I took up with each other again immediately upon my return. I went with her to watch General Conference at her church building and held her hand. I remember going to the park with her and thinking she was beautiful as she lay on the ground across from me. We were engaged in less than a week and married two months after I returned. I have never second-guessed my decision or pace. We carefully stayed worthy in spite of great attraction to each other. I am so glad we did because our experience at the temple was a precious experience. I don't remember a lot about the day of the wedding or the week leading up to it. I was terribly sick--I am confident I had an advance case of strep throat. I couldn't drink water without my throat killing me. When we were married, I recall the sealer proceeding through the ceremony and me just being overwhelmed. It seemed like the roof to the temple opened up and sunlight and power just poured down upon us. Kneeling with Monica at the altar and covenanting to be her eternal companion was truly one of the poignant moments of my

life. This was important to me years later when she died. Suddenly at that point the doctrine of eternal marriage became very important to me--it became real instead of theoretical. I prayed to know that the Holy Spirit of Promise had sealed our marriage. As I hungered for assurance that I would not lose Monica, I felt Heavenly Father tell me to look back on our marriage day. I remembered that powerful moment and felt the assurance that we were worthy when we knelt at the altar and had done nothing to violate our covenants since then, and I had nothing to worry about as long as I remained faithful. This was tremendously comforting and inspiring. This continues to be something that gives me strength not to quit or fail. This has been the story of me getting myself on the straight and narrow path. The next chapter will be my recount of things I have learned, tender mercies I have received, spiritual experiences I have had, and joys I have found as I have tried to stay on the path. My family and my church service have been a tremendous blessing in helping me grow and find purpose in life.