Gospel Story Finder

President Monson recalls an act of priesthood service that changed his life.
I recall the time when I was ordained a deacon. Our bishopric stressed the sacred responsibility which was ours to pass the sacrament. Emphasized were proper dress, a dignified bearing, and the importance of being clean inside and out. As we were taught the procedure in passing the sacrament, we were told how we should assist Louis McDonald, a brother in our ward who was afflicted with a palsied condition, that he might have the opportunity to partake of the sacred emblems.
How I remember being assigned to pass the sacrament to the row where Brother McDonald sat. I was fearful and hesitant as I approached this wonderful brother, and then I saw his smile and the eager expression of gratitude that showed his desire to partake. Holding the tray in my left hand, I took a small piece of bread and pressed it to his lips. The water was later served in the same way. I felt I was on holy ground. And indeed I was. The privilege to pass the sacrament to Brother McDonald made better deacons of us all.

At the age of 19, I was conscripted into the military for a period of two years. I was sent away to the Army Gymnasium in Heidelberg (formerly Transvaal) for the first year of national service and to Natal Command (formerly Natal) for the second year. During this time, I had very little exposure to the Church. As a result, I became less active. Towards the end of my military service, faithful home teachers—Brother Basil Smith and his companion—came into the army barracks one afternoon to minister to me. Once again, my spirit resonated with what they said and I was so surprised that they would make this effort to visit me, I responded positively to their invitation to come back to Church.

Shortly afterward, a wise bishop, Sheridan Jakins, called me to serve a mission, which I accepted. This call and opportunity to serve as a full-time missionary had a profound effect on my life for the good.

I now look back with immense gratitude and love to:
Sister Lucy Carr—for taking that step of sharing the gospel in a normal and natural way with my sister Carol, which led to my baptism and conversion.
Brother Basil Smith and his companion—for ministering as faithful home teachers and inviting me to come back to church.
Bishop Sheridan Jakins—for extending a call and helping me prepare for full-time missionary service.
These acts of love and service by fellow members of my country—sharing their love for the gospel of Jesus Christ—has affected me and my family immeasurably. We have come to love this gospel with all our hearts, and to appreciate its goodness, light and truth. I think of the blessing it has been to have the programs of the Church to help my wife, Mandy, and me to raise a righteous family unto the Lord. In this troubled world with the dangers that our children face, we need all the help we can get.
Through the teachings of the gospel, I have come to know who I am as an eternal son of our Heavenly Father. This has given me confidence and purpose in life. I recognize the feeling described by Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf, when he said, “We are surrounded by such an astonishing wealth of light and truth that I wonder if we truly appreciate what we have.”1
These faithful members, through their small acts of love and service have brought me true happiness. “Our Heavenly Father places loving individuals on important crossroads to help us so that we are not left alone to grope in the dark. These men and women help by example and with patience and love.”2 This has been my experience.
I must admit that this joy and happiness did not come directly after joining the Church. In fact, I felt a lack of it at first, but when I look back on my life, I realise, as a new convert, my faith and testimony were weak. I had one foot in the world and the other foot in the gospel. Only when I had planted both feet firmly on the covenant path, did I start to experience the joy of the gospel. For me, this happened when I started to prepare for missionary service.
It is up to us to respond positively to these acts of love and service and allow them to bless our lives. More importantly, we need to participate in these acts of love and service, or good works as mentioned by King Benjamin: “Therefore, I would that ye should be steadfast and immovable, always abounding in good works, that Christ, the Lord God Omnipotent, may seal you his, that you may be brought to heaven, that ye may have everlasting salvation and eternal life, through the wisdom, and power, and justice, and mercy of him who created all things, in heaven and in earth, who is God above all.”3

After school one day Yuriya Kitahara’s friends wanted to show her a new comic book. It took only a moment for Yuriya, a Laurel, to realize that there was nothing funny about these comics—the book was pornographic.
Around the same time, Junko Saijo, a Mia Maid, was with her friends when one of them lit a cigarette and offered it to Junko.
Not long after, a group of students at Sho Watanabe’s school was arrested for selling drugs to other students.
Fortunately, Yuriya dropped the comic book. Junko refused the cigarette. And Sho, a priest, has tried to be careful in choosing his friends.
Though the Church is growing in Japan, these teens still have to face the temptations of the world every day. That’s part of the test we came to earth to take. The question is: are we up to the challenge? And if we aren’t, how can we be?
Breaking the Word of Wisdom is a common temptation in Tokyo, according to a group of young members from different stakes who have gotten together to talk about the challenges they face.
Several of the youth were faced with the temptation of tobacco as soon as they were teenagers. Others are lucky enough to have avoided it altogether so far. Not everyone faces the same temptations. But tobacco is a common trap for Tokyo teens.
“It’s so easy to buy tobacco here; it’s difficult for some not to buy it,” says Hikaru Watanabe, a deacon and Sho’s younger brother.
Alcohol is another problem presented early on to many youth.
“After a school activity ends, all the students usually go somewhere to have a party,” says Yuriya. “Sometimes my friends ask me to go. They don’t say they’re going to drink, but to many teens, going to a party means going to drink. They don’t think that’s bad.” The other youth all nod in agreement—they’ve been in similar situations.
The teens also agree that pornography and immorality are running rampant among their peers.
“Music is getting bad too,” says Keiko Saijo, a Laurel and Junko’s older sister. “The lyrics are just awful.”
These are temptations and challenges Latter-day Saint teens are facing all around the world. What are they doing about it? They are learning that through the gospel, they can find the strength they need to overcome all their challenges.
The youth agree that to overcome the temptations thrown at them every day, they need the guidance of the Holy Ghost.
“It’s not just my own strength, but relying on the Lord that gets me through,” says priest Yuuya Kitahara, Yuriya’s younger brother. “Coming closer to the Lord helps us avoid the temptations and overcome them.”
That is a valuable lesson. “If we don’t do things to be closer to the Spirit, we would probably end up just like many youth outside of the Church, smoking, watching pornography, and worse,” says Yuriya.
It’s a lesson taught several times in the Book of Mormon. Without the Spirit of the Lord, the Nephites became “weak, like unto their brethren, the Lamanites” (Helaman 4:24; see also Mosiah 1:13; Mormon 2:26).
“When I feel the Spirit, I feel like the temptations just go away,” says Hikaru. “That strength comes from the Spirit.”
Yuuya says praying morning and night helps bring the Spirit. Yuriya feels closer to the Holy Ghost by studying the scriptures every day. Yuuya’s twin brother, Yuuki, mentions youth activities and seminary. And Junko says going to church and family home evening have not only helped her feel the Spirit but have taught her ways to overcome temptations. And each says attending the temple has made a big difference. “I feel a special power when I come to the temple of the Lord,” says Sho. He says he can resist temptations better when he goes to the temple regularly.
For the past few years, Sho and Hikaru have tried to go to the temple every Thursday to perform baptisms for the dead. Keiko and Junko, and Yuriya and her brothers try to attend every Friday.
“Coming to the temple strengthens me,” Keiko says.

Which would you rather do: Spend a day cruising the San Francisco Bay on a ship, or clean up a house in your neighborhood so that needy families can use it? Seems like a no-brainer, right? A hot summer day calls for some rest and relaxation. Case closed.
Closed, that is, unless you’re a priest or a Laurel in the Manteca California Stake. They gave up a planned one-day cruise to join with the younger youth to paint and clean a house designated for families that are getting back on their feet financially.
Okay, okay. So they helped. But they probably didn’t have a very good time, right?
Wrong again. Outside, young people doing yard work trimmed bushes into smiley-face designs. Inside, they raced to see who could clean up the fastest. All of the youth made the projects into games and had a good feeling about what they were doing.
“I could really feel the Spirit there, and I knew I was doing the right thing,” says participant Cherie Farnes.
Apparently, town leaders agree. The activity was covered in a local newspaper article, and an editorial urged others to follow the lead of the youth, saying, “The project shows what can be accomplished by volunteers who are committed and organized.”

While I can’t imagine what Joseph’s harrowing experience was like in Liberty Jail, I too have wondered where God is when I’ve waited on Him for answers, endured unfairness, and felt the disappointment of unfulfilled blessings.
A few years ago, I felt all of this profoundly.
In my early 20s, I was suddenly facing chronic health problems, struggles in my family, heartbreak from a failed relationship, and unmet expectations for my life, all while juggling anxiety and depression.
I was a mess—emotionally, spiritually, and physically.
I didn’t understand why I was experiencing so many challenges when I had always learned I would have joy if I lived as a disciple of Christ.
I did not feel joy.
Instead, I was bitter. I felt disconnected from Heavenly Father. All I could see were my troubles.
I read scriptures, prayed, and attended the temple. But I couldn’t shake my focus from my challenges.
I lived like this for months, feeling rigid in my negative feelings about life. In my mind, I had a right to be bitter! But one day I sat down to read my patriarchal blessing.
I have always been known for my optimism, humor, and zest for life, and when I read my blessing describing these qualities and my eternal potential, I realized that this sacred document was not describing who I was at the time.
I wept as I read about the promises Heavenly Father has in store for me, but I felt discouraged. How could I change and reconnect with my happy, faithful self this blessing was describing?
I realized how much I was letting my struggles—and the labels I had given myself because of them (chronically ill, chronically anxious, chronically forever alone … catch my drift?)—overshadow every good thing in my life.
I had lost sight of the truth that I am one of Heavenly Father’s beloved daughters and that He has great things in store for me.
This most powerful label was stated in the very first sentences of my patriarchal blessing.
President Russell M. Nelson has said, “If any label replaces your most important identifiers, the results can be spiritually suffocating.”
… Guilty.
“First and foremost, you are a child of God, a child of the covenant, and a disciple of Jesus Christ.”1
I realized I needed to change.
I had a desire to start doing life differently. So I started focusing on my divine identity, and I set goals. I believed that with faith in Christ and action on my part, I would see changes in my life. President Nelson also taught, “As we strive to live the higher laws of Jesus Christ, our hearts and our very natures begin to change.”2
So:
I went to the temple to feel the Spirit instead of feeling frustrated if I didn’t receive specific answers.
I read my scriptures with intention.
I prayed for help in changing my thoughts from hopelessness to hopefulness.
I kept a gratitude journal.
I exercised more.
I spent more time with loved ones and less time alone.
I strived to magnify my calling.
I met with a therapist who helped me gain helpful perspectives about living with chronic illnesses and managing anxiety.
Over time I witnessed miracles, like feeling more empathy toward others, feeling grateful and strengthened even on days when my chronic illness flares, and feeling hope even when challenges aren’t fully resolved.
As Sister Michelle D. Craig, First Counselor in the Young Women General Presidency, taught, “Trials do not mean that the plan is failing; they are part of the plan meant to help [us] seek God.”3
As I turned to Him, I felt different—and I still feel different—as I continue to shift my focus from my suffering to living joyfully as a disciple of Christ.4
My time in my figurative “Liberty Jail” showed me what happens when we choose Jesus Christ in our challenges—we are changed for the better. I cherish His enabling power that continues to help me become “a new creature” (see 2 Corinthians 5:17).
In times of anguish, I remind myself of God’s words to the Prophet Joseph Smith and think about how they might apply to me too:
“[Chakell], peace be unto thy soul; thine adversity and thine afflictions shall be but a small moment;
“And then, if thou endure it well, God shall exalt thee on high” (Doctrine and Covenants 121:7–8).
These days, I have a zest for life again, despite ongoing challenges. I know as I follow Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ, I am offered security in my covenants, hope in promised blessings, perfect love, and rest.5 Our trials, and especially our ability to grow through them, are our biggest blessings when we choose to come unto Christ. He truly changes us from bitter to better.

On one occasion, when President David O. McKay was in his youth serving as a missionary in the land of Scotland, a very spiritual missionary meeting was held under the direction of Elder James McMurrin, a counselor in the mission presidency. As testimonies were borne and spiritual experiences mentioned, President McMurrin turned to President McKay and said: “Elder McKay, I’ll say to you as the Savior said to Peter, ‘Satan hath desired to have you, that he may sift you as wheat: But I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not: and when thou art converted, strengthen thy brethren.’” He then said, “If you are faithful you will yet stand in the leading councils of the Church.”

My family has been reminded of this recently in a very poignant way. I have 17 nieces and nephews, who are a pure delight. We have hiked and biked and fasted and prayed together. And recently we have cried together. A few weeks ago we suffered a crushing loss when an accident took the lives of two of my sister’s children—Amanda, who was 11, and Tanner, who was 15. Because we have lived together in love, we have truly wept for the loss of them that died (see D&C 42:45).

Our friends in our hometown wept with us, most of them nonmembers, and we knew their hearts might never be more open to truth than on the day two caskets rested in our little Kansas chapel. So we dedicated the funeral entirely to testifying of Christ and the restored gospel. Afterwards many told us how moved they were by what they heard and by what they felt. Some have even asked to learn more. Now, we don’t know if anyone affected by our children’s deaths will join the Church. But this we do know—that standing up for what we believe and teaching the gospel to friends who had never before been willing to listen helped soothe our pain and bring us joy as a family.

Years ago, two of our sons, then little fellows, were wrestling on the rug. They reached that line which separates laughter from tears, so I worked my foot carefully between them and lifted the older one back to a sitting position on the rug. As I did so, I said, “Hey there, you little monkeys. You’d better settle down.”
To my surprise, he folded his little arms, his eyes swimming with deep hurt, and protested, “I not a monkey, Daddy; I a person!”
The years have not erased the overwhelming feeling of love I felt for my little boys. Many times over the years his words have slipped back into my mind, “I not a monkey, Daddy; I a person!” I was taught a profound lesson by my little son.
He is not just a person, nor just my little boy. He is a child of God.
The cycle of life has moved swiftly on. Now both of those sons have little children of their own who teach their fathers lessons. They now watch their children grow as we watched them. They are coming to know, as fathers, something they could not be taught as sons.
All too soon their children will be grown with little “persons” of their own, repeating the endless cycle of life.
Perhaps now they understand what it means to begin our prayers, as the Lord instructed, “Our Father who art in heaven.” He is our father; we are His children.

My father-in-law was a real inspiration to me. He was the 12th of 13 children of a very poor immigrant family from Switzerland. After he had finished elementary school, he, like many others in his time, was encouraged to drop out of school and learn a trade. Then one day he met Mr. Hicks, the new school teacher. Mr. Hicks asked, “Albert, are you coming to school this year?” Albert explained that he was not planning to. Mr. Hicks said, “Well, why don’t you come for three or four days and see how you like it?”
Albert came, and his future life was dramatically changed for the better. He said this new teacher didn’t just answer the questions. Instead he would write on the chalkboard the titles of the books where they could find the answers. A thirst for learning developed in Albert that was never quenched.
He was a hard-working farmer, providing for a large family. But when I came to know him, I hardly remember his being in the house without a book in his work-worn hands. He would circle words he didn’t know and write their definitions in the margins. He was a real student of history and the doctrine of the Church. Although he never had the opportunity to attend school beyond the eighth grade, he read much more than most college graduates. He not only learned to read; he read.

After that it seemed that Brad, Chris, and I were always over at Willard’s place. We worked in his garage, sipped soda drinks sitting on his front step, and talked about sports. We even teased him about his smoking. We told him that every time he smoked a cigarette he was throwing away thirty minutes of his life.
He chuckled and shook his head. “I’ve been at it too long to stop it now.” But after that we noticed that when we came, he would throw his cigarette away.
Then one afternoon as we sat in his garage, he seemed more nervous than usual. He kept rubbing his hands on his pants, scratching the back of his neck, pacing the floor, and shuffling his feet.
“What are you thinking about, Willard?” Brad asked.
Willard shook his head. He tried to smile, but his attempt was more like a grimace. He rubbed the stubble on his chin. “I threw away my cigarettes. I haven’t had a smoke for a couple of days. But I don’t know if I can keep it up.”
For a moment the three of us were quiet. Then Chris jumped up. “You’ll make it, Willard. You just need something to take your mind off it. Do you chew gum?”
“I could chew nails right now.”
“You need to stay busy too,” I offered. “I have an uncle that quit smoking. He said the only thing that saved him was to stay busy. He worked himself until he was exhausted.”
For the rest of the day we stayed with Willard and helped him forget about smoking. It was almost ten o’clock when we left him, but he’d gotten over the urge to smoke. As far as we knew, he never used another cigarette.

On a snowy Friday night, I was driving home from a friend’s house. As I was driving, I was prompted to pull over to the side of the road, and without much thought, I did. But after a moment, I began to wonder why—I didn’t see any danger ahead.
At church I had been taught about recognizing promptings from the Holy Ghost, and I never felt a prompting as strong as this, but I still wasn’t sure if the feeling came from me or from the Spirit.
After sitting in my car for about 10 seconds, I decided to continue home. The streets looked clear. Then, out of nowhere, a group of deer jumped into the road ahead of me—about 10 seconds away at my previous speed. If I had not stopped when prompted, I believe I would have hit the deer, totaled my car, and probably been hurt.
After this experience, I realized what a blessing it is to have the constant companionship of the Holy Ghost. I am grateful that the Holy Ghost not only warns us but also comforts and teaches us.

“Hey, Shelly!” Shelly looked up from tying her old running shoes to see Rosa waving from the starting line. “Come on,” Rosa called out. “Today we’re going to beat our best time!”
Shelly grinned. Rosa said that every practice.
Shelly liked two things about her new middle school. The first thing was being on the track team. When she ran, she felt light inside, like she didn’t need to worry about anything.
The second thing she liked was that nobody here knew that her parents had just gotten divorced.
Shelly gave her shoelace one last tug and took off to join the other girls on the relay team. Ouch! She winced as her toes jammed into the end of her running shoes. How was she going to tell Dad she needed new shoes again?
After the race, Shelly, Rosa, Becca, and Tiana were celebrating their new best relay time. “I told you we were going to do it today!” Rosa said.
Shelly laughed. She handed the baton to their track teacher and bent to loosen her laces.
“Good work, girls,” Ms. Goldmann said. “You work really well together. Don’t forget to pay your track fee tomorrow.”
Shelley’s smile faded. She had totally forgotten about that!
On the bus ride home, all Shelly could think about was the shoes and the track fee. She didn’t want to give Mom one more thing to worry about. And the last time she had called to ask Dad for extra money, he had sounded annoyed. Lately it seemed like there was no one who could give her the help she needed.
When she got home, Shelly went straight to her room. At dinner her brothers and sisters talked and joked, but she just pushed her food around her plate.
After dinner Mom helped Shelly clear the table. “I’m meeting with Bishop Parker tonight,” Mom said. “Would you like to come and get a priesthood blessing?”
Shelly nodded. She really missed the blessings Dad used to give her when she was worried or sick.
A little later, as Bishop Parker gave her a blessing, Shelly felt something deep inside her relax. “Shelly, your dad isn’t in your home to help you now,” he said in the blessing. “But your Heavenly Father is always there. I bless you that you will be able to talk to Him just as you would to your dad, and Heavenly Father will always help you.”
Shelly felt lighter than she had for a long time. She had a warm feeling inside that told her the bishop’s words were true. Heavenly Father loved her and would listen to her. With His help, maybe she could even have the courage to talk to her parents.
On the way home, she told Mom about the shoes and the track fee. That night she knelt and asked Heavenly Father to help her have the courage to talk to her dad. She prayed about it again on the bus to school the next morning. By the time she got home from school, she felt brave enough to call her dad. This time he didn’t seem impatient or annoyed when she told him what she needed. Her prayers had been answered.
A few weeks later, Shelly laced up her new running shoes and ran to join Rosa and the other girls. It felt good to know she had a great team supporting her. She didn’t need to run her race alone.

In January of 1975, on a dark, rainy night in Tasmania, a 7,300-ton barge smashed into two piers of the Tasman Bridge, which connects Hobart, Tasmania, with its eastern suburbs across the bay. Three spans of the bridge collapsed. An Australian family by the name of Ling were driving across the bridge when suddenly the bridge lights went out. Just then a speeding car passed them and disappeared before their very eyes. Murray Ling “slammed on his brakes and skidded to a stop, one yard from the edge of a black void” (Stephen Johnson, “Over the Edge!” Reader’s Digest, Nov. 1977, p. 128).
Murray got his family out of the car and then began warning oncoming traffic of the disaster ahead. As he frantically waved his arms, to his horror, a car “swerved around him and plummeted into the abyss” (p. 128). A second car barely stopped in time, but a third car showed no sign of slowing down and crashed into the Lings’ car at the edge of the bridge.
Suddenly a loaded bus headed toward Murray, ignoring his waving arms. In desperation, risking his very life, he “ran alongside the driver’s window. ‘There’s a span missing,’ he yelled” (p. 129). The bus swerved just in time and came to a halt against the railing. Dozens of lives had been saved.

“I think the Lord has a special purpose for us, and that’s why we are growing so fast,” says President Soulé. “We have learned that when we obey, the Lord will tell us what to do. We feel his love, and we will do his will.
Once I was at a business meeting, and I didn’t drink. One of our potential clients said, ‘If you don’t drink, we won’t do business with you.’ I thought a minute, and then I said to him, ‘Maybe I don’t want to do business with someone who thinks that what is in my glass is more important than what I can do.’ I thought he was angry, but the next day he called me and said they wanted to do business only with me because I wasn’t afraid to stand up for what I believed. When we know what is right, we should do it, no matter what.”

Answer/Brother Malcolm S. Jeppsen
“The temple has always been mysterious to me,” said Mary, as she and Phil visited with me, her bishop, that Sunday afternoon. They were planning a marriage in the temple in June, and already it was the end of March. “I have always wondered what goes on inside and can hardly believe that I have become old enough to be married there for time and eternity.”
“First let me congratulate you for your wisdom in coming to me early and letting me help you with your temple plans,” I said. “You know, many young people wait until late in their plans to visit with their bishop, and occasionally this causes real problems. Especially can this be true if announcements have already been sent out telling of a planned temple marriage. But most important, let me talk to you about some of the things required of you and Phil to enter the temple and be married there. I congratulate you two for your desire to go to this sacred place and there begin your married life together. Those who do so have an eternity of possibilities before them, you know.”
Mary asked what the requirements were to enter the temple. “You know, it’s really not mysterious,” I said, “but rather something that is too sacred to discuss except within the walls of the Lord’s holy house. There are several basic requirements for a temple recommend that you and Phil have already accomplished. Let me tell you what they are. You have both been baptized by the authority of the priesthood and confirmed members of the Church. Phil, you’re already an elder and hold the Melchizedek Priesthood, and that’s a requirement. Next, you both need a testimony of the truthfulness of the gospel. President Joseph Fielding Smith said in his book The Way to Perfection that no man or woman should ever enter the holy temples of our Father in heaven before having a testimony of the truthfulness of the restored gospel. And you’ll need to each have your own endowments before you can be married for time and eternity.”
At this point Phil interrupted. “What is having one’s own endowment?”
“The endowment,” I continued, “is instruction coupled with covenants that prepare us to enter into the highest order of eternal marriage and jointly be candidates for godhood. Brigham Young said of it, ‘Let me give you a definition in brief. Your endowment is to receive all those ordinances in the House of the Lord which are necessary for you, after you have departed this life, to enable you to walk back to the presence of the Father, passing the angels who stand as sentinels, being enabled to give them the key words, the signs and tokens, pertaining to the Holy Priesthood, and gain your eternal exaltation in spite of earth and hell.’” (Journal of Discourses, 2:31.)
“What other requirements are there,” asked Mary. I then told her how important it was to be personally worthy.
“Probably more young couples fail to meet the requirements relating to this than any other,” I continued. “There must have been no unrepented moral uncleanliness prior to marriage, including heavy petting, fornication, homosexuality, or similar transgression, because the powers of procreation are most sacred. Only the simplest forms of affection should be expressed between those who date, and when passions become unrestrained during that time, it is most offensive to the Lord. Even immoral thoughts are displeasing to him. If transgressions have occurred, repentance must be complete, including sufficient time elapse before one can be admitted to the temple.”
At this point I read to them from the Doctrine and Covenants 97:15–17: “And inasmuch as my people build a house unto me in the name of the Lord, and do not suffer any unclean thing to come into it, that it be not defiled, my glory shall rest upon it;
“Yea, and my presence shall be there, for I will come into it, and all the pure in heart that shall come into it shall see God.
“But if it be defiled I will not come into it, and my glory shall not be there; for I will not come into unholy temples.” [D&C 97:15–17]
“Can you see how important it is to be morally clean before entering the Lord’s holy place?” I said.
President Marion G. Romney said in the Improvement Era (February 1965, p. 120), “God grant that we may be worthy to stand in His presence when we come here. To come unworthily into this temple and receive our endowments will not prove to be a blessing to us.”
“I can see that one must be really morally worthy to enter His house,” said Mary.
Then I outlined several other requirements. “One must live the Word of Wisdom, including abstaining from coffee, tea, alcohol, and tobacco. Abusive use of drugs should also be avoided. And one must live the law of tithing and receive the blessings that come from this expression of unselfishness.”
“These things aren’t difficult for us,” said Phil. “Are there others?”
“Yes,” I said. “It’s a requirement that you be willing to sustain the local leaders and the General Authorities of the Church. Only as we stand in obedience to the teachings and commandments of the Lord, including those he gives through his living prophet and those who preside with him, can the atonement of Jesus Christ apply to us, and we be worthy to enter the temple. It’s important that we be honest in everything we do, really honest in dealing with our fellowman. We have to live righteous lives in all that we do, striving to keep all the rules, laws, and commandments of the gospel, and to attend sacrament, priesthood, and other meetings designed for our spiritual improvement. And one other thing. You can’t have any sympathetic feelings toward any of the apostate groups whose teachings are counter to the accepted doctrines of the Church.
“In summary,” I said, “it’s required of all who would enter into the temple for the purpose of celestial marriage that they be prepared, worthy, and valiant in the kingdom of God on earth. Then their blessings will abound and the Spirit of the Lord will be felt.
“There is another requirement I’d like to mention,” I said. “Because of the sacred nature of celestial or eternal marriage, it becomes doubly important that those who enter into it would be prepared to do so. I would almost think that it was a requirement that there be an intellectual preparation, if you see what I mean. Those who would so marry should be mature and in full control of their emotions. They should have, it seems to me, a distinct willingness to share and a commitment to live by principles. Someone getting married in the temple should have the ability to control his life and himself and be willing and able to sacrifice for the future.”
Mary and Phil sat thoughtfully for a moment and reflected on the discussion that they had been involved in. “Let me read you two sentences from President Harold B. Lee’s article in the Improvement Era for June 1967 (p. 144),” I said. “‘When you enter a holy temple, you are by that course gaining fellowship with the saints in God’s eternal kingdom, where time is no more. In the temples of your God you are endowed not with a rich legacy of worldly treasure, but with a wealth of eternal riches that are above price. The temple ceremonies are designed by a wise Heavenly Father who has revealed them to us in these last days as a guide and a protection throughout our lives, that you and I might not fail to merit exaltation in the celestial kingdom where God and Christ dwell.’”
“That’s quite a list of requirements and lots to ponder,” said Mary.
“I agree,” I said. “But when you kneel across the altar with your chosen companion and you know you are worthy to be in the house of the Lord, you will personally know that every effort was really worth it.”

This definition of pride—as much as I hate to admit it—made me realize that I am prideful, in the sense that I’m often in opposition to my husband. Even small decisions can turn into heated discussions that end with both of our feelings hurt.
For example, I’ve caught myself thinking, “I’m tired, so he can just cook dinner tonight,” without considering that my husband might be just as tired—or more tired—than I am. This thinking usually leads to a “who’s more tired” contest, which just leaves both of us annoyed—and still hungry.
I absolutely love my husband, but by virtue of being human, neither of us are perfect. We both do our best, but there are moments when we still let pride come between us.

Frequently the need of the widow is not one of food or shelter but of feeling a part of ongoing events. President Bryan Richards of Salt Lake City, now serving as a mission president, brought to my office a sweet widow whose husband had passed away during a full-time mission they were serving. President Richards explained that her financial resources were adequate and that she desired to contribute to the Church’s General Missionary Fund the proceeds of two insurance policies on the life of her departed husband. I could not restrain my tears when she meekly advised me, “This is what I wish to do. It is what my missionary-minded husband would like.”
The gift was received and entered as a most substantial donation to missionary service. I saw the receipt made in her name, but I believe in my heart it was also recorded in heaven. I invited her and President Richards to follow me to the unoccupied First Presidency Council room in the Church Administration Building. The room is beautiful and peaceful. I asked this sweet widow to sit in the chair usually occupied by our church President. I felt he would not mind, for I knew his heart. As she sat ever so humbly in the large leather chair, she gripped each armrest with a hand and declared, “This is one of the happiest days of my life.” It was also such for President Richards and for me.

Everything was starting to work out perfectly. I had graduated from Oxford University with a degree in music and had started working for a professional orchestra in Edinburgh, Scotland. My career was progressing, and I was making lots of friends.
While studying, I had decided to delay full-time missionary service. Now the idea of serving was far from my mind. Fear of many things, especially the fear of stifling my career plans, made me think that I was an exception and that I didn’t need to serve. The sacrifices involved seemed too great.
Good friends and sweet experiences with the Spirit, however, began to change my heart. The love of a caring, watchful bishop helped me gain a stronger, deeper testimony of the restored gospel. Soon I knew that I needed to accept a call to serve. I had no idea how I would pick up my career in a competitive environment after a two-year break, but I trusted that the Lord would bless me for my decision. I left my job not knowing how things would work out.
I was called to serve in the West Indies Mission, speaking French. The challenges were hard, but I loved serving the people and seeing their lives change. During those two years I focused solely on seeking the will of my Father in Heaven. Serving others selflessly brought me more joy than I had ever experienced.
After returning home, I saw the world from the perspective of new priorities and values, and I sought to keep my life centered on the gospel of Jesus Christ. I immediately sought employment, but opportunities were few. After a string of unsuccessful job interviews, I realized that my two years in an unrelated field of work had scared off many potential employers. Would my mission really cost me my career?
I’m thankful that the answer was no. Almost three months later I spotted a vacancy that was perfect for me. I had just the right set of skills for the type of work involved. Not only that, but job candidates were required to speak fluent French! My mission opened the door for this opportunity. Three interviews later I was offered the job. My career was even further ahead than it would have been had I not served. I felt the Lord’s mercy and love. I know that He prepares blessings for us when we do our part.

Jill Read’s daughter would be a Laurel right now. She’d be learning to drive a car, going on her first date, and thinking ahead to high school graduation. But sadly, Sister Read’s baby girl lived only a short while before dying of sudden infant death syndrome more than 16 years ago.
When Sister Read was given the chance to hold her baby one last time, the baby’s tiny body was wrapped in two large, crisp hospital sheets. “I couldn’t feel her; I couldn’t see her,” says Sister Read.
Easing the pain of losing a child is difficult, if not impossible. But after hearing Sister Read tell her story during a youth conference meeting, and hearing another talk given by Kevin Capener, a young father who lost an infant son, the youth in the North Ogden Utah Ben Lomond Stake were eager to do anything they could to help. So, as a youth conference activity, they decided to “blanket” a local hospital with service.
The nearly 400 young people attending the conference spent an afternoon making more than 500 infant quilts to be given to parents whose newborn babies have died. After the parents have held their baby in the blanket for the last time, the blanket can be kept as a reminder to the parents.
“I hope that this blanket will be used, held, and cherished,” says Mark Miller, a priest. “I want [the parents] to know that there is someone out there who cares about them.”
In just a few short hours, the youth had a stack of quilts ready and waiting to be presented to a representative from Ogden’s McKay Dee Hospital.
It may seem a little thing, making tiny quilts for parents to use after the loss of a child. But sometimes the things people do aren’t measured by the size of their service, but rather, by the size of their hearts.

The Bracebridge Ontario Canada Branch wanted to participate in the stake sports activities, but they lived so far from other members of the stake that they didn’t get to play in as many games as they wished. The approximately 25 young people in the branch formed a volleyball and basketball team with a cheerleading team for support. Then they proposed to play the local high school teams. The plan was a resounding success. The branch teams often came out the victors, and they have encouraged individual school spirit and good sportsmanship. The sports director says he is often complimented on the good manners and conduct of his branch teams. The sports teams have also included nonmembers.
Besides their involvement in community activities, the branch teams have come out on top in stake and regional play.