Meeting Mark Erickson from Centerville Utah

Today, I made a new friend who is 27 and wears a diaper; he also happens to be one of the most spiritually in-tune individuals I've ever met. His name is Mark Erickson.

The story begins two days ago when I receive this text from my aunt who lives in Centerville, UT. "Hi Bryan, could you come up on Sunday? There is a handicap man in my ward who wants to meet you. He is your age. You can come for dinner too." Honestly, I was most interesting in the dinner part--Char always puts on an amazing spread. But I was also very open and curious to meeting with this handicap, mystery man.

Saturday arrived I went to bed plenty early (10pm) in order to feel refreshed for the following morning's adventure. Naturally, my body freaked out and I woke up at 1am feeling spunky and ready for the new day. I convinced my mind to relax and fall back into REM by picturing a cage of three canaries. I released one of the birds and mentally followed it on a free-flowing journey that lulled me back to sleep. (That imagery trick REALLY worked well. Next time I think I'll try an exotic, earth-burrowing beetle.)

The next time I woke up it was to my alarm at 7am. I showered, dressed and hopped in my car for the 1.5 hour drive up north. The drive only took me an hour since I was the only car on the road at that hour. I arrived at my family's house with enough spare time to read this month's hometeaching message from the LDS Ensign, Come Unto Him in Prayer and Faith. The article was amazing! Here are three talking points that I enjoyed most:

1. "A prominent American judge was asked what we as citizens of the countries of the world could do to reduce crime and disobedience to law and to bring peace and contentment into our lives and into our nations. He carefully replied, 'I would suggest a return to the old-fashioned practice of family prayer.'"

2. Paul to the Hebrews: “For he that cometh to God must believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him.” (Hebrews 11:6) This verse reminded me of the King James Bible Dictionary's definition of Prayer: "The object of prayer is . . . to secure for ourselves and for others blessings that God is already willing to grant, but that are made conditional on our asking for them. Blessings require some work or effort on our part before we can obtain them. Prayer is a form of work, and is an appointed means for obtaining the highest of all blessings."

3. "Through personal prayer, through family prayer, by trusting in God with faith, nothing wavering, we can call down to our rescue His mighty power. His call to us is as it has ever been: 'Come unto me. (Matthew 11:28)" This verse reminded me of a Psalm I recently noted in my personal scripture study: "God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble." (Psalm 46:1) It is my belief that we, as children of God, too often turn to God as a last resort. As members of the Church of Jesus Christ, we can find great blessings if we but honor our baptismal covenant by remembering the Savior always. In our time of need, He has promised us His peaceful presence.

Anyway, that was foundational for my visit later that day. The three-hour church block was excellent. The ward family was especially close that week because they joined to fast for two of their fellow ward members who were recently diagnosed with cancer. I felt like a welcome visitor and enjoyed participating in each of the three meetings. I did experience a little culture shocked when I was the hurried to get in line to share my feelings with the congregation during testimony meeting and found myself alone on the stand; usually in BYU student wards, if you don't get up right away, there won't be enough time to accommodate everyone who has the desire to testify. After sitting down and waiting for what seemed like 10 minutes for the next person to stand up, I realized that I definitely could have taken more time to organize my thoughts.

Directly after the meeting, Char and her son, Danny, and I drove to the Erickson home were they welcomed us in and made me aware of Mark's situation. Mark had two other sisters with the same debilitating disease. Some of you may recall a commonplace story told in the church about one of Mark's sisters named Heather and her favorite hymn. (If you have 2-3 minutes to read this amazing story of love and hope, please do.)

We were shown back to Mark's bedroom. "Mark do you want to see some visitors?" called Sister Erickson from just outside his door. "SuRe." was Mark's nonchalant reply. Mark's bed was in the up position. His twisted body lay on the bed expectantly; he was dressed in a button-down shirt and slacks.

"Hi Mark, I'm Bryan."

I reached out and squeezed his shoulder as Mark had no control over his clenched and sinewy fists. Mark's dad explained to me earlier that Mark was the most able of his three handicap children. There oldest was comparable to a vegetable. Heather's only control and form of communication was in her eyes. She could blink for no and stare for yes. Mark, however, had some tongue and throat control affording him the most basic verbal communication. Unlike quadriplegics, who at least have control of their necks and up, there is no current technology that would enable Mark to be the least bit independent.

We found some folding chairs and spent a few minutes becoming acquainted. In that time, I found out that Mark was a BYU SUPERFAN! He had not missed one BYU football home-game since 1985! That is almost a quarter of a century! Apparently all the cheerleaders know him well, as do the visiting general authorities who frequently invite him and his parents up their their private box.

Then Mark cut our chit-chat short with a poignant question: "wHAt Is hOPe?"

I was quite taken back by Mark's question; shouldn't I have been the one asking that of him? I looked to my aunt Char for some direction. She told me that this was a typical question for Mark's visitors. He must have known the answer and was just playing a game with me. So I opened my scripture and quotes a few verses about faith and explained what they meant to me.

"NOpe. COme oN BRyAN." He said cocking his head even more than usual.

I put the scriptures away and attempted to explain hope to him drawing upon personal experiences.

"CLosE. YEah." I was getting closer.

After another few failed attempts, Mark gave me a hint by asking me an additional question:

"WHat iS lOVe?" . . . (Seriously Mark, how does that help me?)

By this point, I looked to my 16-year-old cousin, Danny, for any additional input. I wasn't ready to give up, but I was definitely open to a fresh point of view. Danny had nothing.

I kept working out the puzzle verbally. Mark mercifully guided my answers with more questions like "whAT kInD [of love]?" and "HOw?" At long last I stumbled upon something that Mark found acceptable. I could tell because he convulsed and repeated "yEAh!" and gave me a penetrating glare that shouted, "and don't you forget that!" (It's too bad that I didn't write down what I said. I felt on edge, like I was brainstorming campaign slogans at a top ad agency for a $70 million account. At the same time I felt extremely privileged, like I was sitting at the reverenced feet of a Buddhist High Priest who rarely received visitors--A High Priest who would regularly slip down from his seated position and needed to be bear-hugged back into place.)

Once I got the first answer however, the subsequent line of questions was easier to respond to; each principle was inherently tied to every other one. They all revolved around the principles of love, service, patience, prayer, trial and confidence. Other questions included doosies like, "whAT ArE yoU GOing tO do wITh YOur LIFe?" After another scripturally-based swing-an'-a-miss, I told him that God didn't really care how I ultimately provide for my family as long as it is honorable and I do it for the glory of God." Mark liked that answer. Every time I got an answer right I threw my hands in the air in triumph and whispered, "YES!"

I then earned the right to ask him some questions. His answers were too special to me to share on this blog. But here is an sample of some of the questions to which Mark's answers were most astounding. (When I say that his answers astounded me, I mean that his answers floored me!)

1. What is hope to you?
2. Have you ever lost hope? Why? For how long? What got you back on track?
3. Do you receive revelation from God the same way that I do?

I didn't need to ask any more questions after that.

Before we left, Mark shared with us a song that he wrote entitled, Tell Me Why. (No, he didn't rip it off from the Backstreet Boys.) I had never heard anything like it. The only song that comes close would be Janice Kapp Perry's The Test. The difference was that Mark's song was written in first-person and the lyrics were much more personal. He somehow managed to lay down a melody and wrote words, which an excellent female vocalist sang. Then Mark accompanied her by laying his own voice on top of her track. I nearly cried. I knew Mark had a perfect understanding of his purpose here on earth: He was here teach others how to love.

I said goodbye to my new friend, Mark. And I look forward to seeing him at one of the next BYU football games.

On our way out the door, Sister Erickson asked if Mark gave me the, "why aren't you married yet" speech. I told her that he didn't because it might have strained our newly formed friendship. She told me that that wouldn't have phased Mark. He once convinced a man to quit smoking after only an hour and a half of sitting with him. When you struggle to speak, there IS no beating around the bush.

Upon hearing that, I felt good that Mark didn't see it fit to bring up the topic of my marriage status; he must have seen that my future there looked hopeful.


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Listening to: Afterglow - O My Father