"Ten Years: A Reflection Of A
Prophet From His Daughter"
Written by Kathleen Hinckley Barnes Walker
 

March 12, 2005, marks the ten-year anniversary of President Gordon B. Hinckley's calling as President of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Special thanks to Kathleen Hinckley Barnes Walker for sharing her reflections on his life and ministry, both as a father and a prophet of the Lord.

When I was young, my father worked at the Church Office Building. He knew the General Authorities and always spoke of them with great respect. I grew up loving and sustaining these men, especially the prophet.
 

There was a time when I began to realize that the General Authorities were men with different backgrounds and different ideas. "What would happen if we heard different messages from different leaders?" "You just keep your eye on the prophet," he said. "The Lord will never let the prophet lead his people astray."  Little did I know at the time what that would really mean in my life.
 

I had a childhood friend that would tell me that if you ever really met a prophet, it would be scary because he would be able to see right into your heart and would know every bad thing you had ever done. Because of that I never wanted to meet one. But the day came. I was with my father going up the back steps of the Church Office Building. The door opened, and President David O. McKay stepped out. I had a sense of doom. There was no hiding now. He would know that I was not a perfect child. As the introductions were made, he took my hand and smiled. A sense of love and peace came over me. I think in that moment the Spirit planted the infant seeds of my testimony of a prophet.
 

Since that time, I have had the wonderful privilege of knowing, loving, and sustaining many of the prophets of the Church. I have listened to them and trusted them. My heart has often told me of their divine calling, and I have sustained them in every way.
 

In 1958 my father was called as an Assistant to the Council of the Twelve. This came as a great surprise to me. But over the years, we grew used to this new calling and watched as he transitioned to become a member of the Council of the Twelve and then a counselor in the First Presidency. For whatever reason, I never speculated on his becoming the President of the Church. Others would mention it to me, but it seemed very presumptuous to me. I knew this work was in the Lord's hands, and anything could happen.
 

When President Howard W. Hunter became the President, we knew his health was poor, but again, I refused to speculate. I was either naive or in denial—maybe a little of both. But when President Hunter's health took a downturn, thoughts of what might happen began to creep into my mind. Just a few days before his death, I ventured a question of one the security officers. "If," I said, "if President Hunter should die, would things be any different for us, the family?" "Quite different" was his reply.
 

I couldn't imagine it. For 47 years I had lived with a father as a General Authority. Why would this be any different?  Again, little did I realize at that time the impact this would have on my life.
 

Just hours after President Hunter's death my thoughts whirled with questions. This man I had always known and loved as a father was now going to also be my prophet. How would the two blend? Although there was nothing in the character or life of this man I knew as father that would in any way conflict with this new calling, still, he was my father. I had seen him in overalls, digging ditches, weeding a garden, planting trees. I had seen him in the most ordinary of circumstances. And now he would assume the role of the prophet, the chosen one of the Lord, the one I had always kept my eye on and sustained.
 

For days I wondered what this was going to be like for me. How would I blend the father/prophet role? And then it happened. On April 1, 1995, the members of the Church were invited to sustain Gordon B. Hinckley as prophet, seer, and revelator of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I was in attendance that morning in the Salt Lake Tabernacle. Members of the priesthood were invited to stand by quorum and given the opportunity to sustain this action by the raise of the right hand. And then as a departure from tradition, the women were invited to stand. As I stood on my feet on that beautiful spring morning and raised my arm in a show of acceptance and sustaining, there flooded through my system a witness that, in fact, this man I knew as my father was now also my prophet. I knew beyond any doubt that he had been divinely called and prepared for this assignment. I was overcome with a personal knowledge of his prophetic calling.
 

Since that time, I have witnessed over and over again the way in which the Lord directs this Church through his living prophets. The mantle of a prophet is real. He is the mouthpiece of the Lord here on this earth.
 

Ten years later I can say that the family dynamics have not changed. He is a father and grandfather in every way. We laugh and play and banter. We have shared fun and joyous times together. We have also shared difficult times and deep sorrow. He has supported us and cared for us and blessed us. He cares deeply and knows intimately every member of his family.
 

But when he stands and speaks as a prophet, I listen, because I know in a very real way, that the Lord is speaking to me through him.
 

I am grateful beyond words for the glorious blessing of living in this time of the restored gospel. I am grateful for living prophets. I pray daily that my life may reflect my testimony. For surely I am blessed far beyond my comprehension. We are all blessed to be a part of the Lord's kingdom.