Gospel Story Finder

Several years ago, my children and I built a four-thousand-gallon saltwater pond in our backyard and stocked it with various forms of aquatic life.* When I came home from work one day, I found two of my sons frantically trying to net all the bullseye puffers in our pond to bring them inside. They had found them floating helplessly at the water’s surface, probably because of the low temperatures of the approaching winter. When the biggest puffer hit the warm water of our family-room aquarium, it was shocked into activity and swam rapidly up and down the ten-foot aquarium. Then it turned belly-up. Well, I thought, that’s the end of it.

The next morning, however, the fish was still alive, though in no better condition. I went to work, expecting to find it dead when I returned that evening. But that night the fish was still gulping air. It just wouldn’t die. However, it didn’t get any better, either.

Days passed; the puffer’s condition worsened. Its body became bloated, and a fungus began to grow over its eyes. It was then that I thought that perhaps I should pray for the fish. In thinking about it, however, I reasoned that the puffer was, after all, just a fish and that it would make little difference to the eternal plan of our Heavenly Father whether it lived or died.

It’s true that the life of a simple fish may not seem important. But there have been times when fish have played important roles in teaching men some very significant lessons. Remember the great fish that swallowed Jonah, showing him that there was no place where he could hide from the Lord? Or the few fishes that Jesus used to feed the multitude? Or the fish with the coin in its mouth, which Jesus told Peter to catch? Or the great harvest of fish that the Apostles took when they cast their nets under the direction of the Master? I began to wonder if my involvement with the puffer could be a personal trial of my faith.

Day after day part of me wanted to pray for the fish, but another part of me told me not to bother. Finally, just before I went to bed one night, as I was looking at the puffer fighting for its life, tears welled up in my eyes, and I folded my arms, bowed my head, and offered a prayer that the fish would be made well.

The next morning I rushed to the aquarium. There was the fish, and what a sorry sight it was. It had now lost its sense of balance completely and had sunk headfirst to the bottom of the tank. It had apparently spent the night trying to right itself, only to rub all the flesh from its bony jaws against the rough sand at the tank’s bottom. Thick scales covered its eyes, and the tiny blood vessels in its fins were bursting. I said to myself, “What a dummy you are to think that the Lord would be concerned about a simple fish.”

I was certain that my faith had failed both me and the puffer. But though mortals may fail, the Lord fails not; and I was soon to learn that faith in Him, once exercised, can never fail. When I viewed the fish on the following morning, I beheld an astonishing sight. The scales that had blinded the puffer’s eyes were gone. Its jawbones no longer protruded from open wounds; the missing flesh had been restored. And the profusely bleeding fins were now clear and functional. The fish glided gracefully about the tank. Equally remarkable, when I put a glass thermometer into the aquarium to check the water temperature, the puffer swam over and promptly bit it in half, attesting dramatically to its complete recovery.

Retired couple, Peter and Phyllis McLennan are helping Tasmanian communities and families by cleaning, painting and restoring markers in cemeteries in the state’s northeast.
Awarded the Australian Citizen of the Year award by the Dorset Area Council, this Scottsdale couple tells how a local cemetery with hundreds of unmarked graves sparked a desire to honor the pioneers who gave life to this Tasmanian community.
The McLennans often visited the cemetery in Scottsdale where Peter’s ancestors are buried. They discovered, through plot maps dating back to the 1850s, hundreds of infants’ unmarked graves in the grassy areas between headstones.
“We thought of the pioneers who had settled their community, forging the path for others to follow. They had no doctors, no services. It was normal for a family to have four or five children who didn’t live more than a year or two,” Peter laments. Yet, here they lay without so much as a marker to be remembered by. “We thought it was sad that these people weren’t recognized.”
The McLennans approached the council, who, in time, saw the validity of the project. “It’s something we do together,” explains Phyllis. With a grant, the McLennans proceeded to create plaques for these plots to mark the graves.
They begin with a concrete paver, onto which is mounted a stainless-steel plaque with the name, birthdate, and death date of the deceased. The pavers are then recessed in the lawn so gardeners can mow over the top. Roger McLennan (Peter’s brother) of the Historical Society comes up with the birth and death certificates to verify the dates.
The McLennans also use their own funds to restore headstones in need of cleaning and repairs. After receiving permission from relatives, they have a system to brighten the lettering to make it legible.
ABC Television recently interviewed the couple about their service to the community.
Phyllis and Peter have worked on this project in six different cemeteries for two years and will continue to volunteer their time and means to this work. “There are a couple more cemeteries further out that need work on headstones.”
Both at age 76, Peter and Phyllis have been members of the Church for nearly 48 years. Phyllis serves as the organist in the Tamar Ward of the Devonport Stake.
“We are very close,” says Peter. “We’ve been told we’re joined at the hip. Not that we have to keep an eye on each other!”
When asked what this project has meant to them, Peter says that they “had the ability, time, and means to do something lasting and important.”

Making a quilt does not seem like a conventional way to prepare for a temple; but that’s exactly what Sarah Cutler was asked to do to help unify the young women of the Albuquerque New Mexico East Stake, when the Albuquerque New Mexico Temple was being built. Sarah designed the quilt top, incorporating a part of the Young Women theme, and had all the young women of the stake sign its large border. The quilt was completed by March 5, when the temple was dedicated.
“I’ve thought about how much making this quilt is like preparing to make and keep sacred covenants in the temple,” Sarah says. “The first thing we need is a desire to go to the temple. … On the quilt of our preparation for the temple, we just have to keep going stitch by stitch by tiny stitch.”

When Ana Victoria Hernández, who was not a member of the Church, married Belbin Calderón, he was a member but wasn’t attending because he worked on Sundays. Belbin says a strong feeling brought him back. He recalls, “I gave up my job because I wanted to go back to church.” After he became active again, his wife noticed that he was becoming more humble, and there was more unity in their home.
Belbin hoped his wife might gain an interest in the gospel, but he never tried to push her. One Sunday while dusting the bookcase, Ana Victoria discovered one of Belbin’s books about the history of the Church. Curious, she began to read. The stories of the sacrifices of the pioneers touched her deeply.
A few weeks later, the October 2011 Liahona came, a special issue about the Book of Mormon. Again out of curiosity, Ana Victoria began to read the Book of Mormon. She soon realized it contained not just a history but also the words of prophets. She began to attend sacrament meeting with her husband and children.
Then she and her family visited the Quetzaltenango Temple open house. Ana Victoria was touched when she learned that her family could be sealed for eternity. “That had a great impact on me. I felt the need to be sealed to them,” she recalls. She began taking the missionary lessons and was baptized on December 7, 2011. She attended the temple dedication four days later.
Brother and Sister Calderón were sealed in the temple with their children in December 2012. Ana Victoria says she cannot describe her happiness at “knowing I can be with my family forever.” Belbin calls the certainty of their sealing “the greatest blessing I could possibly imagine.”

“Don’t run too far ahead!” Dad called. “It’s getting dark, and I don’t want you to fall.”
Vincent stopped and turned around. “But you’re walking so slowly. I want to get to the festival before all the mooncakes are gone!”
“They won’t run out of mooncakes,” Dad said as he and Mom caught up. “At least, not until you get there!”
Vincent could hear drums beating as they got close to the park. Strings of colorful lanterns hung from the trees, lighting up the dark night. Families were eating on blankets, getting ready to watch the full moon together.
Mom found an empty spot on the grass and laid down their blanket. She handed Vincent some coins to buy food.
“Thanks!” Vincent couldn’t wait to go exploring. He counted his coins as he walked. Twenty ringgits! That was enough for a mooncake. But which kind did he want? Ham? Egg yolk? Durian? Finally he picked one full of black sesame paste. He wandered from stall to stall as he ate, staring at all the different foods. Stacks of chicken on skewers. Giant pots of spicy broth and noodles. Maybe he could get shaved ice with ice cream with his last coins!
Pretty soon he’d wandered into an area that didn’t have as many lanterns. The darkness gave him an idea.
I wonder how far I could walk with my eyes closed? He shut his eyes and took a step. Then another. Then caught his foot on something. He was falling!
Ouch! His chin hit something sharp. It was a big metal drain cover! He reached up and touched his chin. He was bleeding.
“Dad? Mom?” he called out. He hurried back toward the lanterns, and someone helped him find his parents.
“We were getting worried!” Mom said. Then she saw his face. “We need to go to the hospital.”
Pretty soon Vincent was sitting with Mom and Dad in the hospital waiting room. He was so scared. Was he going to be OK?
He folded his arms tight and thought about Jesus. He and his family had been baptized a few months ago. The missionaries had said that Jesus could help him feel comfort.
Jesus Christ will help me. Jesus Christ will help me, he thought over and over again. And soon he did feel a little calmer. It felt like the Holy Ghost was by his side.
Dad squeezed his hand.
“Everything will be OK,” Mom said.
Vincent nodded. He knew she was right.
When the doctor came, she stitched up his chin. It hurt, but not too much. She told Vincent that he would probably have a scar. But that was fine with him. Whenever he saw it, he would remember mooncakes, the festival, and a time he felt comforted by Jesus and the Holy Ghost.

Following my baptism on 20 August 1994, in the Makélékélé Branch, Brazzaville District, I asked myself the following question:
How should I prepare myself?
In Doctrine and Covenants 11:21 we read: “Seek not to declare my word, but first seek to obtain my word, and then shall your tongue be loosed; then, if you desire, you shall have my Spirit and my word, yea, the power of God unto the convincing of men.”
This inspired me to enroll in institute, where I studied the Book of Mormon. This enlightened my life, allowed me to gain a testimony of the restored gospel, to come unto Christ, and inspired me to make a decision to serve a full-time mission. Touched by the obedience shown by Nephi, I decided to do as he did in 1 Nephi 3:7: “I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded, for I know that the Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save he shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the thing which he commandeth them.”
I received my mission call a week before the civil war that broke out on 18 December 1998, in Congo-Brazzaville, my home country. I was 28 years old. I had to answer the Lord’s call which was extended to me through His servant, President Gordon B. Hinckley (1910-2008). I walked for 224 miles to get to the neighboring Democratic Republic of the Congo—the country in which I was called to serve my mission.
As we serve our fellow men, challenges can be turned into opportunities to grow. As I read the Book of Mormon and pondered over the scriptures, I came to discover that the Lord helped Nephi at all times. That gave me hope that the Lord would also help me if I made righteous decisions to serve Him through a full-time mission. In this experience, I moved forward freely, in spite of obstacles, with my mission call letter from President Hinckley, our then prophet. I felt the presence of Lord’s Spirit throughout my journey into the mission field.
It is important to know that a missionary is an instrument in the hands of the Lord, and that the purpose of a missionary is to “invite others to come unto Christ by helping them receive the restored gospel through faith in Jesus Christ and His Atonement, repentance, baptism, receiving the gift of the Holy Ghost, and enduring to the end.”1 We will have to reflect upon the following question: What can we do to prepare ourselves if we wish to achieve this purpose?
We all—parents, youth, and children—can and should prepare ourselves to serve as missionaries—whether we serve as ward or branch missionaries, plan to serve at a young age, or hope to be called later in life as a senior missionary. Worthy young men should—and women might—consider serving a full-time mission. Speak with your bishop or branch president. He can help guide the process of preparation for a full-time mission and understand parents’ responsibility in this work.
In Matthew 28:19–20 the Lord has said: “Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost:
“Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you: and, lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world.”
This tells us that it is the responsibility of all those who follow Him to engage in missionary work. In Doctrine and Covenants 88:81 the Lord reiterated this declaration at the beginning of this dispensation: “It becometh every man who hath been warned to warn his neighbor.”
Sister Epiphanie Christel Mabiala was born in Pointe Noire, Republic of Congo. She and her husband are the parents of three children. She was called as an area organization adviser in July 2021.

Grandpa and Grandma were coming! To 15-year-old Holly Walker of Calgary, Alberta, Canada, this was front-page news, bigger than a visit from the queen or a phone call from E. T.

Holly and her grandfather are pen pals. She writes to him often, sharing her triumphs and traumas, her dreams and goals. He answers her with letters full of encouragement and counsel. The two share many things—a love of horses and gardening, a zest for learning, and, above all, a devotion to family and the gospel.

Holly’s grandmother symbolizes for her the ideal of strong, wise, gracious womanhood. Holly has grown up using her grandmother’s life as a model and cooking old family recipes first created by her ingenuity. On the horizon of Holly’s young life, these two people loom like giants.

Now the time for the visit had come at last. Holly waited impatiently at the Calgary International Airport with her mother; two of her sisters and their husbands; and assorted cousins, nieces, and nephews. They sat and watched the control tower gather in jets and sort them back into the sky like a mailman sorting mail. Soon one of the incoming specks would grow into the plane carrying Grandma and Grandpa.

Grandpa’s plane floated down across the southern edge of Calgary, tracing with its shadow the broad blue sweep of the Bow River. The plane banked, leaning hard on its northern wing, pointing the wing tip like a finger at the tall shafts of glass and metal that clustered in an elbow of the river. Just behind the wing tip Grandpa could see a splash of color punctuated with turning circles. He knew the circles were Ferris wheels at the stampede grounds. The plane flew north now, shedding altitude rapidly. Through the eastern windows Grandpa glimpsed a fringe of houses and then only a green and yellow distance to the horizon. Westward lay a broad rug of city, green with trees and parks. At the city’s western edge hills rose in gentle swells that grew mile by mile till they crested in a vertical tidal wave of stone—the eastern ramparts of the Rocky Mountains. From this distance they looked like an abrupt wrinkle on a relief map. Then the city rushed up, and the bump of wheels on runway told Grandpa and Grandma that their visit had begun.

Like all good Calgarians, Holly loves the Stampede, and every year she and her family attend. And Stampede 1983 was going to be something special. This year Grandpa and Grandma would go with them! It had been a long time since her grandparents’ last visit, because Grandpa is a very busy man.

When Holly’s grandfather and grandmother appeared through the airport gates, everyone rushed to greet them. You probably would have recognized them too. Holly’s grandfather is President Ezra Taft Benson, President of the Council of the Twelve. There were hugging and kissing and the happy chatter that accompanies a reunion. Then they were all off to the beautiful home where Holly lives with her mother, Barbara Benson Walker, and her father, Robert Harris Walker, who is president of the Calgary Alberta Stake.

As they drove homeward, they enjoyed the special gentility that governs life here. Drivers obeyed the speed limit, respected the rights of others and merged and yielded with courtesy. They saw cyclists pedaling out to one of the islands on the Bow River and caught a glimpse of men in immaculate white shirts and trousers playing cricket on a manicured swatch of grass.

That evening, Holly went to the LDS dance, which is one of the highlights of social life for young Latter-day Saints in Calgary. After the dance, she brought home many of her friends to meet her grandfather, who received them with graciousness and humor. He made them all feel like old and valued friends, and they also felt the powerful witness of the Spirit that they were in the presence of a beloved servant of God.

The Bensons were only able to be in town a few days, but the family made the most of the days they had. Holly treasured the opportunity more than any gift she could conceive of. Her family was the most important thing in her life, and her grandfather and grandmother were the honored patriarch and matriarch of the family. She loved to sit talking with them, enjoying the stories and counsel as much as a gourmet might enjoy a delicious meal. She listened spellbound as President Benson told her stories of his experiences as a Scoutmaster when he was a young man. It was obvious that he had taken that calling just as seriously as he does his present assignment.

Holly showed her grandfather her journal. This was almost the same as reviewing her whole life since she had last seen him, because she keeps a world-class journal. It included not only a written account of her experiences but also clippings and programs and articles and drawings and photographs and bits of fabric and many other artifacts of her life. Her descendants will be able to know their ancestor very well indeed. Through this journal President Benson was able to be a real participant in her life.

Music has always been an important part of family get-togethers, and Holly played the piano while President and Sister Benson sang. Later they walked and talked and relaxed in the well-tended yard which Holly’s green thumb had helped to prosper. Then Holly showed her proud grandpa a bedroom full of trophies and awards and shared her written goals for the coming year. For another girl, a girl with fewer trophies and fewer accomplishments, the list might have seemed pie-in-the-sky nonsense, but this young lady was up to the challenge. She has been student-body president of her junior high school, seminary president, and captain of the school basketball and volleyball teams. She is a very talented pianist, having won first place in her age group at the Calgary Kiwanis Music Festival several years in a row. She also accompanies her mother, who is a soprano soloist. Two years running Holly won the top academic and athletic award at her school. She has also won awards as a dancer, singer, and composer. These are only a few of her many accomplishments to date, and only a beginning of what she plans to achieve.

Her 1983 goals run several pages in length. They include an ambitious, capacity-stretching list of self-commitments in the areas of spirituality, academics, reading, journal keeping, photography, athletics, self-improvement, music, service, and missionary work. As an example, the sports goals include specific and challenging commitments in basketball, waterskiing, tennis, jogging, swimming, hiking, racquetball, windsurfing, trampoline, and golf.

Monday evening the family went to the chuck wagon races at the Calgary Stampede. President Benson watched with the keen eye of a lifelong horseman as the chuck wagon teams careened around the track in a cloud of dust and tangle of wagons, horses, and outriders. A constant stream of LDS Scouts who were visiting from the nearby international jamboree came to shake the Apostle’s hand, and he graciously turned away from the spectacle to greet them warmly. Afterward there was a stage show honoring Canada, and then the night became noon as fireworks blossomed in new constellations overhead. The family laughed and joked and cheered. The best part of the evening was just being together.

As with all happy events, the visit passed too quickly, but it was long enough to deepen Holly’s love for her grandparents even more. “It is great having my grandparents here. I love them and admire them both very much. They have always been and will always be great examples to me. I feel very blessed to be their granddaughter and to be so close to them. I hope that I will never let them down.

“I remember going down in the summers or at conference time to visit them. I always love to hear their stories of when they were my age or younger. Their experiences seem to really relate to me and the things I’m interested in. I love them so much. I think the greatest thing they’ve shown me is to have love in the family, and we certainly do. My family and my relatives are my closest friends. I’d much rather be with them than with anyone else.”

As her grandparents’ visit drew to a close, Holly was happy to know that every parting with those she loved would someday be followed by a reunion, and that someday there would be a reunion to be followed by no partings. Her grandfather and grandmother were hers eternally, and as beautiful as the summer is in Calgary, that knowledge was still more beautiful.

Two of my good friends were Walt and Liz. They had the greatest influence on me during high school.
I wasn’t a member of the Church then, but I was a serious athlete. And because I took sports seriously, I didn’t drink, smoke, or use drugs. Neither did any of my friends, until our second year in high school. Suddenly, the guys I used to play basketball with were spending their weekends getting drunk at parties. I went to a few of the parties, but I didn’t like what I saw, so I stopped associating with my old friends.
That’s when I really got to know my Mormon friend, Walt. When everybody else was partying, he and I would find something better to do. Walt made it easy for me to be good because I knew he didn’t drink or smoke, so I never felt any pressure to either.
Walt didn’t swear, and he was always correcting me when I did. He was polite and well mannered (most of the time), and when I was around him, I felt I should try to act a little better myself. He was a serious athlete, as I was, but he also took his studies just as seriously. He studies hard and got good grades (something I did only occasionally). Being friends with Walt didn’t make me perfect, but it showed me how I could improve.
Of course, Walt also put a little friendly peer pressure on me about his church. “Hey, Chris,” he’d say, “you might as well be a Mormon—you don’t drink, smoke, or use drugs. You’re practically a Mormon anyway.” As we became better friends, we talked about his church a lot, and I started to meet other Latter-day Saint youth.
One of them was Walt’s girlfriend, Liz. She was an attractive, cheerful Mormon girl whom I used to tease unmercifully. Liz was the perfect lady, and as we got to know each other better, her good influence began to change me. I stopped swearing. And, most important of all, I became interested in the Church.
It wasn’t easy for me, a Catholic, to consider changing my religion, but good friends like Walt and Liz made it easier for me to investigate the Church. Liz encouraged me to seek out the truth and to do what was right. And when I had gained a testimony, she and Walt gave me the strength and courage I needed to go through with my decision to get baptized.
I know much has been said about how bad peer pressure can be, and it can be very bad. But when I look back on the friends I’ve enjoyed associating with, I’d say that peer pressure can be very good too. My friends have helped me to become a better person than I would have been without them.

When I was five years old, I had the job of taking out the trash. In those days, a garbage truck didn’t come to pick up the trash. We had to burn it in the backyard in a cement box called an incinerator. My chores included burning the trash.

One day, I decided that I didn’t need to take the trash all the way outside to burn it, as my parents had taught me to do. I put it all into the kitchen wastebasket and burned it right there in the kitchen. Before I knew it, the kitchen cabinets were on fire! Fortunately my older brother came into the kitchen and yelled for my mother. The fire was quickly put out, with little damage to our house. That experience taught me to follow the guidance of my parents because they knew about dangers that I did not understand.

Amanda Siler of Inkom, Idaho, sat in Sunday School with the other girls in her Mia Maid class—they were all writing down their goals. Amanda wrote, “To walk with my walker.” You see, when Amanda was seven, she developed a neurological disorder that affected her balance and caused her to lose all of her muscle strength and some of her motor control. Through the years, Amanda has worked hard to strengthen her body, and although life continues to be a struggle for her, she is always smiling.
The Young Women and their leaders saw Amanda’s goal, and after a lot of research and inspiration, they found a way to help their friend. They secretly ordered Amanda a special three-wheeled bike she would be able to ride on her own.
Last September the ward held a family activity night at a local park. Unaware of the surprise, Amanda and her family were asked to sit facing the group of Young Women. They sang her a song and then presented Amanda with a huge card that read, “Because We Love You.” The card had signatures from everyone in the ward and community who helped purchase the bicycle. Amanda’s friends helped lift her out of her wheelchair and placed her in the seat of the bike. There were many tearful eyes as Amanda rode more than half a mile that evening—with loving friends by her side.

Life has some strange turns. I will share some personal experiences that illustrate this.
When I was a young man I thought I would serve a mission. I graduated from high school in June 1950. Thousands of miles away, one week after that high school graduation, a North Korean army crossed the 38th parallel, and our country was at war. I was 17 years old, but as a member of the Utah National Guard, I was soon under orders to prepare for mobilization and active service. Suddenly, for me and for many other young men of my generation, the full-time mission we had planned or hoped for was not to be.
Another example: After I served as president of Brigham Young University for nine years, I was released. A few months later the governor of the state of Utah appointed me to a 10-year term on the supreme court of the state. I was then 48 years old. My wife June and I tried to plan the rest of our lives. We wanted to serve the full-time mission neither of us had been privileged to serve. We planned that I would serve 20 years on the state supreme court. Then, at the end of two 10-year terms, when I would be nearly 69 years old, I would retire from the supreme court and we would submit our missionary papers and serve a mission as a couple.
I had my 69th birthday two years ago and was vividly reminded of that important plan. If things had gone as we planned, I would have submitted papers to serve a mission with my wife June.
Four years after we made that plan I was called to the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles—something we never dreamed would happen. Realizing then that the Lord had different plans and different timing than we had assumed, I resigned as a justice of the supreme court. But this was not the end of the important differences. When I was 66, my wife June died of cancer. Two years later I married Kristen McMain, the eternal companion who now stands at my side.
How fundamentally different my life is than I had sought to plan! My professional life has changed. My personal life has changed. But the commitment I made to the Lord—to put Him first in my life and to be ready for whatever He would have me do—has carried me through these changes of eternal importance.
Faith and trust in the Lord give us the strength to accept and persist, whatever happens in our lives. I did not know why I received a “no” answer to my prayers for the recovery of my wife of many years, but the Lord gave me a witness that this was His will, and He gave me the strength to accept it. Two years after her death, I met the wonderful woman who is now my wife for eternity. And I know that this also was the will of the Lord.
I return to the subject with which I began. Do not rely on planning every event of your life—even every important event. Stand ready to accept the Lord’s planning and the agency of others in matters that inevitably affect you. Plan, of course, but fix your planning on personal commitments that will carry you through no matter what happens. Anchor your life to eternal principles, and act upon those principles whatever the circumstances and whatever the actions of others. Then you can await the Lord’s timing and be sure of the outcome in eternity.
The most important principle of timing is to take the long view. Mortality is just a small slice of eternity, but how we conduct ourselves here—what we become by our actions and desires, confirmed by our covenants and the ordinances administered to us by proper authority—will shape our destiny for all eternity. As the prophet Amulek taught, “This life is the time for men to prepare to meet God” (Alma 34:32). That reality should help us take the long view—the timing of eternity.
I pray that each of us will hear and heed the word of the Lord on how to conduct ourselves in mortality and set our standards and make our commitments so that we can be in harmony and in tune with the timing of our Father in Heaven.

Growing up, I thought I knew what serving a mission would be like. My older siblings had served missions, I had seen movies about missionaries, and I was ready to get to work. But as my mission got closer, my plan quickly fell apart.
Because of the COVID-19 pandemic, I was reassigned from my original call in the Philippines to my home country of Australia. When I arrived in the mission field, my experience was different than what I had expected. I desperately wanted to go home.
After I talked with my mission president, he gave me the option to finish my mission early and return home—exactly what I wanted. But when I was presented with that choice, I felt an overwhelming feeling from the Spirit that I should stay in the mission field.
I had a choice to make: act on revelation or act on my own desires.
Because of past experiences following promptings, I trusted that even though it wasn’t what I wanted to hear, this prompting to stay on my mission would ultimately be for my good.
I ended up serving a full two years and completing my mission. I wish I could say that the remainder of my time was super easy, but it wasn’t. However, the things I learned, the daily habits that connected me with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ, and the deeper testimony I gained from serving have kept me grounded in the gospel.
Elder David A. Bednar of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles addressed this sort of situation when he said: “Very rarely does one prompting bring an answer. There’s almost always a sequence, ‘line upon line, precept upon precept’ (2 Nephi 28:30).” Even though my mission was tough, I was able to press forward with hope that God had a plan for me and that my struggles wouldn’t be in vain, because of the revelation I had received.

One evening as I conversed with President Harold B. Lee, I said to him, “President Lee, you seem different someway tonight.” He smiled and said, “You know what it is, don’t you?” I shook my head and said I really didn’t know what it was. Then he shared with me his remarkable experience saying:

“After I became the President of the Church, I thought a great deal about what the Lord wanted me to do. One night, while I was sleeping, President McKay came to me in a dream. He pointed his finger and looked at me with those piercing eyes of his as only President McKay could do, and he said, ‘If you would serve the Lord, you must love and serve his children.’ I awakened with a compelling desire to learn all I could about love that I might serve the Lord.”

He said, “After I had read everything the scriptures had to say about love, I began to put into practice all that I had gleaned from my study. That’s what you can feel. It is my newfound ability to truly love and serve his children.”

I watched President Lee even a little more closely that night and noted that not one person who came to the table to shake his hand left without receiving a special word of encouragement or an extra question that indicated the concern of the prophet. No one went away without seeing his smile or hearing his words of love.

Paul Reid, Pacific Area manager of the Church’s Welfare and Self-Reliance Services, knew about SolarBuddy through a previous project.
“Randomly, one morning I woke up with the idea of having thousands of our Church youth and young adults light the world at Christmas with a gift for thousands of children around the Pacific who often do not have light to read or study after the sun goes down,” he said.
Carl Maurer, who worked with Mike Malouf in coordinating the effort, said, “This lighting the world will be a blessing to those in energy poverty locations in the Pacific, where not only the receiver is blessed, but the giver also.”
Tehina Avaeoru of French Polynesia shared one way she felt blessed as a volunteer assembler of SolarBuddy lights: “This activity was very uplifting because we were able to help others,” she said. “I really felt the Spirit (of God) and the love we can have for each other.”
Fellow volunteer Tamarua Richmond agreed. “To have done it with friends was even better. It was a great atmosphere. We all had our part to play and I’m glad we did it.”
Todd Miller from Hamilton, New Zealand, said, “Today has been a fantastic opportunity for young and old to do something for someone else this Christmas season. We hope these small lights will make a big difference.”
When Jiovilisi Seniceva heard about the SolarBuddy humanitarian project, he thought about the people in the outer islands of his homeland of Fiji. “Many don’t have light in their homes, and I hope this project can help,” he said.
Church Welfare and Self-Reliance employee Peniette Seru joined a group of Church members who visited a small village in Fiji’s south to deliver SolarBuddy lights to families.
She smiled as she recounted her experience distributing lights to young people who live in homes with no electricity. “One hundred and fifty other lights were donated to a children’s heart hospital (in Suva) to be given to children who come in from outer islands,” she said.
Not only did volunteers assemble lights, but they also wrote notes to each future recipient.
Australian volunteer Yvette Barnes wrote in a letter to a light recipient: “We hope that every time you use this light, you know this is made with love from me.”
Reflecting on her experience, she said, “For every person here, there’s a good vibe, good energy. We’re feeling the love.”
From this project that began as a “lightbulb idea,” thousands of children will see the world in a new light.
“We are inspired by Jesus Christ, the Light of the World, and His example of bringing light to those who sit in darkness,” Elder Wakolo said. “We hope our small gifts of love and light—made possible by the Australian charity, SolarBuddy, and by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints—will brighten hearts, homes and futures.”

Carla Martinez, a young adult in Buenos Aires, Argentina, felt invisible in her new ward. She didn’t know the members. Carla had moved many times with her family, and life was not always easy for them. But then a sister in the ward started to develop a friendship with her.
“Aldana made me a birthday cake and decorated the humble room where my parents and I lived,” says Carla. “She gave me the best present I could get—her sincere love.”

Please share this recent experience I had while visiting in South America. I was traveling with a mission president 200 miles from his office. Word reached him one of his elders was in the hospital with a ruptured appendix. His condition was grave because of the six- to seven-hour delay in getting medical attention. The mission president gave immediate instructions by telephone, getting the best physician possible, leading sixty missionaries assembled in zone conference in united prayer. He and his wife were at the elder’s bedside the following morning. Prayers continued, medical attention increased, companions took turns sitting at his bedside around the clock. Parents in Idaho were notified. “The best is being done for your son. We feel he will make it. Please have your family join us in our prayers.”

Here was friendship in action. Here was a friend at work. Here was an example of leaving the ninety and nine for the immediate attention of the one.

Dulcinea was the lady of a knight-errant but wasn’t sure she could be a lady. She had been the barmaid Aldonza all of her life until she met the knight Don Quixote, who gave her a new name and said she was a lady. “Take the clouds from your eyes and see me as I really am!” she yells at one point in the musical Man of La Mancha. “A lady? I’m not any kind of a lady. I am Aldonza!” Finally, at Quixote’s deathbed, Aldonza realizes that because of Quixote’s devotion, she has become the lady Dulcinea.

Shortly before my wife was to give birth to our first child, we learned that the baby must be born by cesarean section. I was then a student at Brigham Young University, going to school full time and working almost full time. From my meager earnings, a little over $1.00 an hour, we had saved enough money for the hospital and doctor bills, but nothing in our plans or emotions had prepared us for this shocking announcement. We scarcely knew what a cesarean birth was, and we feared the worst.

A few days later we faced our ordeal. After what seemed an eternity, I stood at a window in the hospital hallway, looking into a basket containing our firstborn. The joy of seeing her and knowing that my beloved companion had survived the operation was inexpressible. As I experienced that moment, I became aware of a stranger standing beside me. He introduced himself as Dr. N. Frederick Hicken, the surgeon who had come from Salt Lake City to perform the operation. His presence reminded me that a surgeon’s fee had not been in our plans, and I began to ask him if I could pay his fee over a period of time. “Don’t worry about that, young man,” he said in a kindly way. “This is one from the Hickens to the Oakses.” Before I could stammer a thank-you, he was gone.

I was filled with wonder at this unexpected gift. Our benefactor must have known my father, a young medical doctor who died when I was a boy. He must have given us this gift because of something my father had done. I marveled at the goodness of this man who had come to us in our crisis and had, without recompense, used his powers to preserve the lives of those I loved. The emotion of that moment made the memory indelible. The name of that doctor is precious to me. I will always remember him.

During his third year of law school, his wife was pregnant with their second child and he was an associate editor of the law review when the call came to serve as elders quorum president. “At this challenging time I accepted the call and prayed to Heavenly Father to make up the difference,” he said. “I needed help to fulfill my calling, successfully complete my education, find employment, and care for my young family. The blessings we received were far beyond what we deserved. That experience gave me great faith in the goodness of the Lord and His blessings upon those who earnestly strive to serve Him.”

President Tandiman, a retired government official, was working in a law office in 1970 when he met Latter-day Saint attorneys applying for government recognition of the Church. At their invitation, he accepted the missionary discussions. He was affected by the conduct of the missionaries and their teachings and the fellowshipping he received. “These made a deep impression upon me, an impression that stayed with me and helped me remain active in those early years of my membership,” he says. President Tandiman’s wife and six children also accepted the gospel, and he baptized them. His daughter is now married and has a daughter of her own. Four sons have served missions in Indonesia, and a fifth son is looking forward to a mission call.

One year after his baptism, Brother Tandiman was called as president of the Djakarta Branch, then later as the West Java District president.