Post By Amaleki, Brother of Ammon
Before we ever set foot into the wilderness—before the days of wandering, discovery, and deliverance—I remember life in Zarahemla as a place of quiet concern. Oh, don’t get me wrong—we had peace, we had order, and we had a good king in Mosiah. But we also had questions. One in particular sat like a stone in the hearts of many: What ever happened to our brethren who left to reclaim the land of Nephi?
They’d been gone for years. At first, we hoped for word—a runner, a message, anything. But nothing came. No news, no sign. They were simply… gone.
In Zarahemla, we went about our daily work. The markets bustled, families grew, and the temple was filled with worship. But in quieter corners, you’d hear murmurs. People wondering about lost ancestors, friends hoping for word of old companions, elders questioning if the journey had been folly.
Finally came the call from King Mosiah. He asked for men willing to search—not for treasure, but for people. My brother Ammon didn’t hesitate, and neither did I. Hem and others joined us. We were not warriors, yet we were not men to be challenged—and we were just men with faith, enough courage, and more questions than answers.
I’ll never forget that time before we left. Zarahemla felt safe, familiar. But it also felt incomplete. We knew someone needed to go, and I’m grateful I was among those called. What we found would change lives—ours included.
Sometimes, I think back to those quiet days before the journey and realize: peace isn’t just the absence of conflict. Sometimes it’s the presence of purpose. And back then, we were just waiting to find ours.
—Amaleki
