What if the requirements to go to heaven were all mathematical? What if you had to know π from φ, and do square roots and all sorts of calculus and chemistry formulae and solve complex equations? I was not born to do that. It would be very hard. But I would try. And knowing the Lord as much—or as little—as I do, I know He would make us all a promise: that if we just put forth a little effort, just try until we are frustrated, and then try again, He would step in and increase our ability, and help us move up to the next step, with all that we were struggling with now made easy and accessible.

But it’s not math that’s required. It’s not the quantitative skills on the GRE that are essential; it’s the VERBAL. In principio erat Verbum. We must all read. Even if reading is not your thing, you must try. You must push beyond the frustration until you realize (i.e., make real) the promise that the Lord does indeed make to every one: that the Lord giveth no commandment unto the children of men –that’s us—save He shall prepare a way for them to accomplish it. That is, if He gives a commandment, He automatically makes it possible to do it. Not easy. Possible. He gives us the way, the power, to do what He just got through commanding us to do. “He that hath the scriptures, let him search them.” “Search these commandments, for they are true.” There. Those are commandments that He has just given us. So will He make a way for us to do it?

We are all commanded to pore over the scriptures, reading them and studying them. There’s no way around it. But at the same time that we are obliged to read the scriptures, God will help us do it. What if we are poor readers? What if that was not one of the gifts we received as we got our kit to come down here? What if we have struggled our whole life long with the Verbal side? With reading? Trust Him. He said He would prepare a way for you to accomplish the thing which He hath commanded you.

Start. Pick it up. Begin to read. He will help you. Perhaps just a tiny bit at first, and you will struggle and become frustrated, as He tests your faith and your trust. Will you trust Him, and keep on? Then He will reward you with more help, and more, and then you love picking up the scriptures and reading them. Because you can. Because He prepared the way.

John Canaday lived with his wife and daughter in a single-wide set into a hill of red dirt near the Cape Fear River, and John came to church alone. I went to visit him and saw the recliner where he sat each night after a hard day’s work as a mechanic specializing on Detroit diesels. Next to the recliner chair was a round table with a lamp built into it, coming up out of the middle of it, with a plastic lampshade made to look like stained glass, like a Tiffany. On the table there, next to his chair, spread around randomly, were comic books—his. And a paperback missionary copy of the Book of Mormon.

I asked if he read it. He said not a whole lot, because it was too hard, and he wasn’t all that good a reader. He was a little embarrassed by the comic books. He laughed and picked one up, and slapped it back down, saying that was his level.

I said to him, John, I said, if you will read a little bit in the Book of Mormon each night, it will get easier.

He began to carry his paperback Book of Mormon to church, and then he started bringing his priesthood manual. In priesthood meeting he began to accept a turn at reading a paragraph, instead of declining as before. After some time had passed, John would raise his hand in Sunday School class and tell something about what he had been reading recently. After a year, John was a proficient reader—not just the Book of Mormon, anything. Reading the Book of Mormon a little every night had led to greater reading ability; and with greater reading ability came more confidence and more involvement. He had put the principle into practice: read the scriptures, and God will help you read the scriptures. And everything else.

I was born with ability in the VERBAL column. I am woefully lacking in the QUANTITATIVE. I believe I have discalculus—the inability to compute, or even to grasp, mathematical thought. But I can read and understand. I’m not a fast reader, but I get it. I use a dictionary, and I like to learn and use words. I love to read and study and pore over the scriptures. I’m glad for the gift. I feel for those who struggle; but struggle they must. And though it’s easy for me to say, it is nevertheless true.