My dear friend Tyler died in April. The loss was sudden and unexpected, but I’m grateful to know that he felt no pain when it happened.
I was at work when my husband called me in shock. I ran the mile home in my heels, finally taking my shoes off when I reached the grass field of Porter Park.
Tyler was our neighbor. We were part of a friend group that slowly migrated to live next to each other, with apartments on each side of a fence. Our complex put up a “Do Not Hop the Fence” sign in our honor. My husband and sister were part of his Dungeons and Dragons campaign for over four years.
Loss forms a sticky web of conflicting emotions, but within it, I can say that I am grateful for the serendipitous blessings that allowed my husband and I to know Tyler for six entire years. And I recognize Brigham Young University-Idaho as an epicenter of those blessings.
In my work, I oversee the content of the magazine that you’re reading right now. My student employees and I have brainstormed, written, and edited each word and comma. Now, I am trying to draft one more article, and I just keep thinking of my friend Tyler.
Tyler Heiner graduated from BYU-Idaho in 2019 with his bachelor’s degree in graphic design, and he lived in Rexburg, Idaho, from 2015 until his death in 2024. He had opportunities to leave, but remote work allowed him to live wherever he wanted, and so he chose Rexburg.
He was originally from a town in Arizona that was a 12-hour drive from here; I learned the distance traveling to his memorial service. The bishop of his home ward said that when he asked Tyler when he’d move back, Tyler replied, “Never!” He loved Rexburg so much that his family decided to bury him here; I had never imagined that I would one day turn at the cemetery sign on the way to Walmart.
At the Spring 2023 commencement, Elder Clark G. Gilbert, Commissioner of the Church Education System, said to graduates, “In 2 Nephi 1:6, we are taught that ‘there shall be none come into this land save they shall be brought by the hand of the Lord.’ I believe that statement is true of BYU-Idaho and all those who come here. … I hope you will find it to have been true for each of you.”[i]
The original purpose of this article was to touch on the return on investment of a BYU-Idaho education. In a traditional, financial sense, we certainly have that. Alumni of BYU-Idaho are well-paid professionals who quickly earn more than they paid for their education—we’re ranked #1 Best Value College for annual percentage return on investment, according to Payscale.[ii] But Tyler’s death has caused me to ponder how return on investment functions in the gospel.
In pure business terms, we could define a “return on investment” as what you get back, or in return, for spending your money on something. For example, the return on investing in groceries is (hopefully) a delicious meal. The tricky thing about investing is that you can’t know for sure what your return will be, but one guarantee is that you have to invest before you can get a return; you can only harvest what you planted.
There are a dizzying number of ways we can invest our time, money, and energy, and it can be difficult to choose without knowing what to prioritize. President Russell M. Nelson said, “Mortality is a master class in learning to choose the things of greatest eternal import.” When choosing to invest in what matters, we must “think celestial”[iii]—what will matter after this life?
In the Savior’s Sermon on the Mount, He taught His disciples to first seek the kingdom of God, for there are so many things in this life that are temporary. He said, “Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal: But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal: For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.”[iv]
As members of the Church, we know that one of these treasures is knowledge. Joseph Smith received the revelation that “whatever principles of intelligence we attain unto in this life, it will rise with us in the resurrection.”[v] President Nelson echoed this revelation when he advised young adults, “In the Church, obtaining an education and getting knowledge are a religious responsibility. We educate our minds so that one day we can render service of worth to somebody else.”[vi]
Another treasure is our relationships. Christ taught that the two great commandments are to “love the Lord they God with all they heart, and with all they soul, and with all they mind” and to “love they neighbor as thyself.”[vii] We know that our families last beyond this life, and that we are all part of God’s eternal family.[viii] As we invest in our relationships with others, including our relationship with God as we make covenants,[ix] those relationships will continue past this life.
In his October 2012 general conference address, President Dieter F. Uchtorf spoke on some of the most common final regrets that people have, and those fit into an eternal perspective. Speaking of our relationships, he said,
“Perhaps the most universal regret dying patients expressed was that they wished they had spent more time with the people they love. …
“I think of our Lord and Exemplar, Jesus Christ, and His short life among the people of Galilee and Jerusalem. … I see the compassionate and caring Son of God purposefully living each day. When He interacted with those around Him, they felt important and loved. He knew the infinite value of the people He met. He blessed them, ministered to them. He lifted them up, healed them. He gave them the precious gift of His time. …
“Let us resolve to cherish those we love by spending meaningful time with them, doing things together, and cultivating treasured memories.”[x]
When Tyler decided to invest in his education following his mission and travel the 12 hours in his beat-up white sedan that his family doubted would last the drive, he couldn’t have possibly known what would follow that decision. He couldn’t have seen how his first-semester roommates would grow to become his brothers, how his student ward would introduce him to the love of his life, or how he would become a central part of a growing friend group that made Rexburg, Idaho, feel a bit like how I imagine heaven will be.
All he knew was that, by investing in his education and his relationships, he was investing in something that mattered, and the Lord helped him do the rest.
I am grateful that the Lord wanted Tyler in Rexburg, and I am grateful that He caused our paths to cross. The friendships that my husband and I have made in Rexburg are true treasures in heaven than “neither moth nor rust doth corrupt,” and I’m grateful for the precious gift of time I’ve had in this gathering place.
