The 26,670 bishops in the modern Church have roughly 26,670 different personalities.

But, as they strive to fulfill that holy office, they uniformly focus on leading others to the Savior.

Bishop Jones (that's what we'll call him here) is one of those bishops, a man who, like other bishops, combines his unique character traits with the universal principles of the gospel to bless the lives of those he serves. He might well be a lot like your bishop.

Bishop Jones happens to be an electrician by trade. If you ask him what he does in his spare time (as if he has any spare time), he'll say something like, "Oh, I don't really know." If you press him, he'll admit that he's been in maybe two-thirds of the homes in the ward — helping with electrical work.

If you suggest that helping others with electrical needs doesn't seem like real down time, he'll tell you that he occasionally will play a little basketball with Jarin and Jacob.

If you know Bishop Jones' ward, you'll know that Jarin and Jacob are two of the Aaronic Priesthood youths. And if you quiz Bishop Jones just a little more, he'll tell you that the basketball is one-on-two "and I can usually beat them — but in only one game. Then I'm too tired."

Somehow you get the feeling that Bishop Jones is dedicated to his calling, that he genuinely loves and cares about the people he serves and that this "being bishop" isn't just a Sunday calling. No doubt, your bishop feels that way, too.

If Bishop Jones were a kitchen appliance, he'd be a slow cooker, not a microwave oven. If he were an athlete, he'd be a marathoner, not a sprinter. When dealing with the ups and downs of presiding over the ward, Bishop Jones chooses to act, but not over react.

"I learned a lot by taking the bus to work," he once said. "As I looked out the window and saw nothing but bumper-to-bumper traffic, I realized that nothing I could do would change how fast that bus traveled."

Instead of worrying about what he can't do, he calculates what he can — and should — do. Then he quietly, and effectively, does it.

"Remember," Bishop Jones once told a friend facing an unpleasant task, "you have to do it only once." The friend immediately knew what that meant: "Don't worry. Just do it, and do it well. Then move on."

Countless ward members gratefully tell of receiving Bishop Jones' help. That of a particular member — in over his head one Saturday in an electrical project — well illustrates that kind of help. Bishop Jones showed up, literally an answer to the member's silent prayer, and quietly, systematically, and cheerfully took care of the electrical needs.

The electrical help was wonderful. But it was the second-most important benefit of Bishop Jones' visit.

The most-important benefit was an insightful spiritual realization, which Bishop Jones probably didn't even realize he'd brought to the member. But, just because he was practicing what Christ taught, Bishop Jones set the stage for the tender lesson.

"Why," the member had wondered as he felt the burden rise off his shoulders, "given all the real problems and troubles in the world, would the Lord be concerned with my insignificant little problem?"

Then came the answer.

"The Lord's capacity to love and help His children is infinite. Because He attends to my 'lesser' need, does not mean He can't attend to another's 'greater' need. I needed some help. I tried to be worthy to receive it. And, clearly, the Lord — through this wonderful bishop — filled my need."

When Bishop Jones wires a plug for a neighbor or plays basketball with young men, he's clearly helping them. But, because he also strives to follow the Savior, his efforts — like those of his counterparts around the world — go far beyond the immediate task.