Elder Lawrence E. Corbridge reflects on a transformative dream (Part 3)

After I was called to serve as a general authority on that day, I had a dream. The dream. Now, I don't know that anybody is going to be interested in my dreams, but hopefully this helps in some way. The dream involved a very long journey beginning at our ranch, the Blackfoot River Ranch. I was given the task to leave. Leave the ranch and travel some distance away, pick up something and return it to the ranch 27 miles away. The item that I was to deliver to the ranch was a two man canoe. Odd, yes, but it's a dream. Dreams are odd. I knew if I didn't carry it back to the ranch, someone else would come get it. But I didn't hesitate. I picked it up in the middle and put it laterally across my shoulders and began to walk back to the ranch. It was not only heavy, but because I carried it laterally, it extended into the road, impeding any traffic that might come along. I walked and walked and walked at first down the roads until I decided to leave the roads and go across country. I walked down and over beautiful grass covered hills and all different kinds of terrain. I remember three or four horses running down a hill and turning in front of me and then running away. I remember being absolutely alone, except for. Except for the sense of a constant companion. A friend who did not carry the load, but who was present throughout most, if not all, of the journey. I never saw him, but his presence was unmistakable, sustaining and undeniable. I was always aware he was there again. I never saw him, but I knew he was there. At some point, the thing that I was carrying changed. It then was a large.