Gospel Story Finder

When Liisa, 20, first heard about the job at the Delfinaario (dolphin aquarium), she was excited. She had good qualifications. In the Finnish equivalent of high school, she had studied biology, but also mathematics, science, physics, and chemistry.
“All those things are part of the job,” she explains. “And I’ve always been interested in animals.” And the job would help her earn money to pay for college in Sweden. Her enthusiasm and background paid off. She was hired.

May we contrast that for a moment with Brother and Sister Joaquim Aires, a marvelous man and his wife who came to Portugal following the 1974 revolution of Portugal’s colonies in Angola and Mozambique. They had returned to Portugal unknown and with very few possessions. A great blessing occurred in their lives. They opened their door to two young missionaries, who taught them of the restoration of Christ’s church. They received the missionaries, accepted their message, and were baptized.
As is the opportunity for all worthy men in the Church, he received the priesthood—authority to act in the name of our Father in Heaven—and to become a leader in the Church. Brother Aires became President Aires, president of one of the mission districts.
One day I received a telephone call. President Aires was in the hospital in Coimbra, several hours’ travel away. He had suffered a very serious cerebral hemorrhage and was in very critical condition. Another priesthood holder and I made the trip as quickly as possible. As we walked quietly into the hospital room, we found him asleep. My first inclination was not to awaken him. And then I thought he would want to know that we had come. So I reached over and carefully touched his hand. He slowly opened his eyes and then looked at me for a moment, and then the tears came to both of our eyes. He then said in a very weak and soft voice, “I knew you would come. I knew you would come. Would you please give me a blessing.” In his dear, sweet faith, he was asking for a priesthood blessing, the same that is taught of and recorded in the Bible. We read in James 5:14–15: “Is any sick among you? let him call for the elders of the church; and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord:
“And the prayer of faith shall save the sick, and the Lord shall raise him up.”
As men of the priesthood, it was our privilege to pronounce a blessing on him with power and authority of our Father in Heaven.
As I would meet with the members of the Church from one end of Portugal to the other, the brothers and sisters would ask, “How is Brother Aires? Will you please tell him we love him and we’re praying for him?”
This good man and his wife, who had returned to Portugal almost unknown, now, because of their membership in the Church, had literally thousands who loved them and were concerned about them and remembered him in their prayers.
The prayers of faith were answered. He recovered completely, and he and Sister Aires went on to fulfill a full-time mission together.

Jenny isn’t the only Flinn up early. By 6:15, her seventeen-year-old brother, Peter, is already off, pumping his bicycle down the lane to do his paper round, which covers most of the homes in Broadway. Peter isn’t particularly keen about getting up at dawn, at least not until he gets going. But by the time he’s halfway into town, he knows the joy of the morning too—the feeling that the day is his to conquer, his own marvelous opportunity to see things through.
Peter’s mind is on work this day, too. As he folds each Daily Telegraph and slips it into a door slot, he’s thinking of all the jobs he’s done, from egg selling to fruit picking, to putting money away for his mission. He’s thinking how that mission is getting closer all the time. Peter might not say it out loud, either, but he’s glad he’s learned to work. It’s a skill that will help him as a missionary. And it feels good to start the day by getting something done.
Jenny and Peter are the oldest of Bruce and Margaret Flinn’s children. The others are Lindsey, 14; Neal, 12; Elizabeth (“Lizzy”), 9; and Rachel, 5. To visit the Flinns on their six-acre smallholding (family farm) is to see not two, but eight, people who know a lot about working. To visit them is also to see much of what can make a family succeed.
“We moved here as much for the children’s sake as because of our own feelings,” explains Brother Flinn, who works full-time as a seminary teacher supervisor in addition to maintaining the smallholding. “Because of my work, I travel a lot. It would probably be easier to live in town.”
“But if we moved,” Sister Flinn says, “our quality of life would drop. We couldn’t keep all the livestock. We wouldn’t learn all the skills about being self-reliant. We might not know as much about how to love work.”
How to love work?
“We believe in the principle of work,” Brother Flinn explains. “We believe it’s a spiritual principle. It’s not just obtaining the end result; it’s the actual doing of the work. It’s good for you.”
And do the children agree?
“When we complain about having to do things,” Lindsey says, “Mum will say, ‘Fine. Shall we move to the town?’ None of us has ever said yes.”
“There are pros and cons to everything,” Peter says. “But I’d say I’m fine here.”
Now all this talk about willingness to work may have you thinking that the Flinns are perfect. The truth is, they’re a typical family with teasing and quarrels and sometimes tears, just like any family. But they’ve learned to work at being a family, too.
“What do we gain from being together?” Jenny asks. “Patience, mainly.”
Does she ever think about being with her family forever?
“When they’re not annoying me,” she teases.
Her ability to laugh is typical of the entire family. They enjoy jousting verbally, but also know they have to do it with love, so that feelings aren’t hurt.
“Everybody’s got their own personality,” Lindsey says. “We’ve learned to adjust for that. Besides, if you say anything negative, Dad makes you say two things positive.”
Other challenges? “One of the biggest ones is juggling time,” Jenny says. “I have to do the animals twice a day, so that’s an hour each morning and evening, and in between I’ve got school. And there’s homework, two hours every night, and seminary is home study, so I have to find time for that, too.”
Church activity can be a struggle because of isolation. “We’re fifty miles from the stake center,” Peter explains. “There’s lots of traveling involved, and not everyone has a car. There’s only two of us in my quorum, and the other one lives forty miles away. We make an effort to see if he wants to come out, but there are various problems, like parents who don’t want to bring him in because it’s out of the way. Distance is the major drawback.”
And in school, being a Latter-day Saint doesn’t keep temptation from being all around. Twelve-year-old Neal says a survey showed there were only two people in his entire class who hadn’t used alcohol.
What’s the counterbalance?
“We have good lessons at church,” Jenny says. “We have good lessons at seminary. And good home evenings at home. We live for Fridays (Mutual night) and Sundays to be with Church kids and strengthen each other.” And of course, there are scriptures and prayer and family support.
“If I have a really major problem, I know I can turn to my family,” Lindsey says. “I suppose I’d call them my best friends. If I didn’t have them to turn to, where would I go?”
That’s an attitude Jenny exemplified when, even though she was taking final exams and needed to study, she walked down to the school to pick up Rachel. “Mum and Dad were late getting home,” Jenny said matter-of-factly. “I knew Rachel would panic if no one showed up.”
That’s part of being a family, part of what the Flinns learn every day.
Step into the Flinns’ family room, and you’ll notice one wall is adorned with corn dollies, the kind actually made from wheat. “You have to braid the stalk while it’s flexible,” Sister Flinn explains. “When it gets old, it’s brittle and won’t bend.
“That’s what we’re doing as a family,” she says. “We live the gospel. We learn about family love. And the children braid them both into their lives.”

I was given an assignment to prepare an entry for my school’s social studies fair. The title of my project was “How Does The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints Teach Its Youth to Live Their Religion?” I interviewed 40 members of my ward. Then I charted their answers and wrote my research paper. I also narrated a slide show that showed many of our church activities.
My project won “Best in Fair” at the school, county, and regional levels. I did not win at the state level, but that was OK because my project taught people how the Church works. I even got to teach the judges about the Church. I think it was a good missionary project.

“It’s not like we were on a date, Bishop,” said Paul. “We were just hanging out.” Fifteen-year-old Paul was trying to explain why he was having moral problems with a young lady whom he had never “dated.” When the bishop spoke with the young lady, she, like Paul, failed to grasp the seriousness of what they had done because, after all, they weren’t “dating.”
Young Latter-day Saints know the guidelines for dating. Most can recite them by memory: don’t date until age 16, date in groups, and only date those who share your same high standards. But more and more LDS teens aren’t dating in the traditional sense. Sure, they may attend a few proms or other formal dances at school, but most young people today prefer to just hang out. “We just get together at someone’s house,” one teenager explains, “and watch videos, play games, or talk. No one asks anyone. Word just spreads that we’re getting together and everyone comes.” Another said, “Sometimes we pile into cars and just drive around. It’s fun.”
Of course hanging out can be fun. It’s casual and informal. There’s no pressure, and it takes very little preparation. Most parents and Church leaders are happy to see young people gather with positive friends and stay in groups. Such activities can promote feelings of acceptance and inclusion that are necessary and good. However, the casualness and lack of accountability that accompany hanging out can sometimes open the door to problems and put young people in situations where their safety—both physical and spiritual—is in jeopardy.
As a bishop in a BYU student ward, I asked some of the young people I work with for their advice. Is it possible to hang in there with gospel standards and covenants while hanging out with friends? Here are their responses and suggestions:
Plan activities in advance. Josh Smith from San Antonio, Texas, says, “I know it takes a little effort, but it really is better if your friends know what they are going to do. Say, ‘Hey, we’re going to make some cookies and deliver them, or we’re going to play volleyball.’ Just so everyone isn’t sitting around saying, ‘So, what are we going to do now?’” Josh is right. It’s easy to go with the flow, but if we are not careful the flow usually takes us in only one direction—down. Dustin Coffman from Lake Charles, Louisiana, says, “Everyone finds it harder to resist inappropriate videos, music, and activities when such things are thrown at us at the last minute and we haven’t thought about what we could do instead.”
Make sure an adult is around. Ryota Natsume, a young convert from Japan, says, “I can’t believe how many young people feel that it’s no problem to be at someone’s home when their parents are not there. That’s just not respectful or smart.” Jeni Judd from California says, “My friends used to think I was so weird when I would ask if their parents were going to be home while we were there, but that was my family rule. You couldn’t be at friends’ houses if their parents weren’t home. At the time I thought it was dumb, but now I realize that kids just act differently if they know an adult is around. They are just not so wild.”
Respect the property of others. Lindsay Gunnell, from Orem, Utah, says, “I always liked having friends over, but my parents hated it because things would get broken, and no one would say anything or take responsibility. My dad has a nice pool table and entertainment center in our basement, but after they got damaged he just said, ‘No one can go downstairs, period.’” Just because hanging out is casual doesn’t mean the rules of common sense and courtesy don’t apply.
Another example comes from Jason Porter from Chicago. He says, “My friends would just pig out at my house like they had never seen food before. I always felt stupid saying no, so they would just clean out the fridge and the cupboards. My mom and dad were really good about it because they wanted me to have friends over, but they didn’t have the money to be feeding the whole neighborhood all the time.” Few parents do. Amy Lockhart, from Canada, says, “A good rule to follow when you are at someone else’s house is don’t help yourself to food unless it is offered to you.”
Use seat belts. Even young people who have good seat belt habits when driving with their own parents and families are too easily distracted when they are with friends. They pile in and out of cars without even thinking about safety. Lindsay Robinson, from Atlanta, Georgia, says, “I always made my friends buckle up when I was driving and even when I wasn’t. Sometimes they would make jokes about it and call me mom, but they got the point. I think inside they were grateful that I was being careful.” Never try to fit more in a car than the number of available seat belts. If there aren’t enough seat belts for the whole group, then make other plans.
Obey curfews. This was a point that was brought up by all the young people I talked to. They warned that when you’re just hanging out, it’s easy to let the time slip away, and before you know it you’re breaking curfews all over the place and getting everyone in trouble. Dan Stanger from Helena, Montana, says, “Although your parents may give you a later curfew, someone else in the group may have an earlier one. That guy is going to feel stupid bringing it up or being the first to leave, so just pack up and quit the whole thing at a decent hour and then no one has to be in an awkward position.”
Stay out of bedroom areas. “Another thing,” Dan says, “stay out of the bedrooms. I know how it is to get talking with a girl and then wanting to get away from the crowd and the noise, but don’t go to the bedrooms.” Ben Dunford, from Grayson, Georgia, says, “When I came to BYU, I had to sign an honor code that said I would not only keep a curfew and not be in girls’ apartments or allow girls to be in my apartment after a certain hour, but I would also never have girls in my bedroom area or be in their bedroom areas. If it’s smart for BYU students to live that way, it’s smart for any Latter-day Saint anywhere.”
Another young woman in my ward said, “The good thing about hanging out is that you are with a big group of people. The bad thing is that no one is keeping track of who is or isn’t there. You can break away from the group pretty easily before anyone misses you. That can lead to trouble. I know that firsthand. My parents would never have let me be alone with a certain boy, but they let me hang out with my friends. Well, this boy and I always made sure we were both at the same place, and then we would take off to some back room to be alone. We never did anything really bad, but I totally regret what we did and even more the deception and dishonesty we were involved in.”
Immorality is immorality whenever it happens or wherever it happens. Despite what is shown in movies or sung in love songs, immorality always results in undesirable consequences. When it comes to staying clean, sometimes hanging out can be even more dangerous than dating because young people don’t have their guards up. They are vulnerable to temptation and experimentation because they feel more comfortable, relaxed, and safe than they do in formal situations.
Is it possible to stick with Church standards and keep covenants while hanging out with friends? The young college students in my ward answer with an emphatic, “Yes!” But they caution that you just have to remember a few things. Planning wholesome activities in advance and making sure there is an adult around to chaperon are sure ways to set yourself up for success. Respecting the property of others and using seat belts in vehicles are excellent ways to make sure nothing spoils the fun. Following curfews and staying clear of bedrooms are ways to make sure no one has to live with regrets.
After Paul and his “girlfriend” spoke with their bishop, they realized that they could get themselves into negative and undesirable situations even when it wasn’t a formal dating situation. Everyone will be happier if we worry less about what does or doesn’t qualify as a “date” and more about keeping our covenants. Perhaps some of the suggestions from the young people in my ward can help others hang in as they hang out.

To say I used to hate exercise is an understatement. Just about any form of exercise was uncomfortable. In my middle school gym class, we had to run laps around the field to complete a mile and a half. We also did other exercises to build endurance, strength, and flexibility. All of it was incredibly hard. And all of it took me a long time to do.
There was a reason things were so challenging. I was born with Cystic Fibrosis (CF), which is a genetically inherited terminal illness.
My condition causes mucus to build up in my lungs. My body also has a hard time absorbing nutrients. Because of this, I need lung treatments every morning and night to keep my airways clear. I also take a series of medications throughout the day. I’ve always done this. However, my life seriously improved once I added a couple of extra health habits. And yes, one is daily exercise!
Everything started to change in my life when I found something I genuinely loved to do. While in high school, I discovered dancing. The first time I combined movement with music and put my whole energy into dancing, I knew I’d found something special.
When I first started to dance, I experienced the same discomforts I had while running laps in middle school. This time, though, my new passion for dancing made all the difference. I felt carried away as my feet pounded and leapt to the rhythms and beats of the music. I was able to express myself freely through a variety of movements, feeling uplifted and empowered.
I took entry-level dance classes at school and danced as much as possible. The longer I kept at it, the more I noticed big changes in my health. My lung function grew stronger and steadier. As I continued staying active through doing what I loved, I was able to accomplish much more than I’d ever dreamed.
I’d been taught my whole life that my body is a temple. But I hadn’t really considered how this means both avoiding harmful things (drugs, alcohol, coffee, tea, etc.) but also doing the healthy things my body needs.
President Russell M. Nelson has taught: “With your body being such a vital part of God’s eternal plan, it is little wonder that the Apostle Paul described it as a ‘temple of God’ [1 Corinthians 3:16]. Each time you look in the mirror, see your body as your temple. That truth—refreshed gratefully each day—can positively influence your decisions about how you will care for your body and how you will use it. And those decisions will determine your destiny.”1
As I took care of my body and saw it as a temple, my life changed for the better. Breathing was easier, my energy increased, and I became more alert to my surroundings. My body weight increased to a healthy level, which I could better maintain because my lungs weren’t working so hard.
Before, I had always experienced a health crash at least once a year and needed a two-week hospital stay to restore my health. But after I started dancing and taking better care of myself, that need disappeared. I went six or seven years without having to stay in a hospital.
After graduation I headed off to Brigham Young University. While there, I kept pondering a part of my patriarchal blessing that mentions sharing the gospel. In the past, I’d always thought, “There’s no way I can ever serve a full-time mission. It’s too risky with CF!” In addition to the health risks, I was afraid my daily treatment routine wouldn’t fit with a typical missionary schedule.
Still, the thought wouldn’t go away. Could I actually serve a mission?
As I pondered and prayed, I kept thinking about my favorite scripture. In Mosiah 2:20–21, King Benjamin taught how the Lord had “kept and preserved” His people, “lending [them] breath” each day. These scriptures helped me see how the Lord had “kept and preserved” me.
Though I was still a bit scared, I knew it was God’s will for me to serve. I received a doctor’s clearance, submitted my papers, and was called to serve a mission. I believed the scripture that teaches that God is “supporting [me] from one moment to another” (Mosiah 2:21). As I served my mission in Boston, Massachusetts, that promise was definitely fulfilled.
My mission days were a treasure. One of the greatest blessings was developing a deeper relationship with Heavenly Father and with Jesus Christ. Part of that closeness meant achieving a better understanding of Their will concerning me, including the importance of safeguarding my health.
As a missionary, you’re focused on serving others. Yet I knew that to stay on my mission, I had to remain healthy. I decided to never miss a lung treatment. I would exercise every morning. And I would maintain good eating habits.
As a result, I was better able to be His instrument and serve others. It was a valuable lesson to know I can still serve, even with my illness. I’ve learned that what you can do, despite any limitations you have, is much better to focus on than what you can’t do.
Satan wants us to mistreat our bodies. The adversary and the world try to twist something good—the need to take care of our bodies—into something harmful: the idea that you must look or feel a certain way. This distortion can cause great discouragement when we don’t look that certain way or fit a certain size.
How do we overcome this worldly message and focus instead on better health? How can we stay motivated to prioritize better health, despite all our challenges?
One answer is to live with gratitude.
When we see our body as a gift from our Creator—when we are grateful for all it can do—we feel stronger motivation to care for it and live to our fullest capacity.
There are times with CF where my lungs don’t get the full breaths I need—when my arms become swollen from PICC lines and IVs, when I feel fatigued while fighting off illnesses. In these times, I’ve found that I can either sulk and see my body’s limitations or express gratitude by using well what is still functioning and taking the best care of myself. When we live with patience, faith, and gratitude, we find joy.
Although many say the mission is the best years of their life, I’ve come to find that my life is a mission. My mission president would always say, “A mission is the training wheels for an unselfish, consecrated life. When the mission ends, the training wheels come off, and you ride.”
Because I changed my lifestyle years ago, I’ve been able to reach a clearer understanding of what the Lord has in store for me and to accomplish much more while paying heed to the Spirit’s direction to help me change. I know that “unto whom much is given much is required” (D&C 82:3).
I’ve experienced the change from being sedentary, weak, and ill to becoming stronger and more capable. I now have many dreams and know how to better work alongside the Lord to accomplish His work. I’ve also decided to study corporate wellness and fitness coaching as my profession. After experiencing so many positive changes in my own life, I want to help others reach their potential too.
When it comes to our physical health, I think of how the Lord has sent us here so that we may have joy (see 2 Nephi 2:25). I believe this includes each of us being able to live each day to the fullest, especially within our families and with those closest to us.
I think often about the joy I can experience with my family today and throughout eternity. Some trials come and go, some stay, but our Heavenly Father, our Savior, and His gospel and promises are always constant.

One night my elementary school principal came to our house for a meeting. After the meeting I asked her if she had a Book of Mormon. She told me she didn’t have one, but she would like one.
Three weeks later I went to a missionary fireside. The missionaries gave me a copy of the Book of Mormon to give to a nonmember friend. I didn’t know who to give it to. Then the Holy Ghost whispered to me the name of my principal.
I told my dad I wanted to take the Book of Mormon to her. I marked one of my 7. Dad took me to her house after the fireside, and I gave it to her.
A month later, when the missionaries came to our house for dinner, they asked me if I knew anyone they could visit. I told them about the nice lady I had given the Book of Mormon to.
The next time the missionaries came to dinner, they said they had visited her and they had a feeling that someday she would join the Church!

Called as a new Apostle in 1943, Elder Benson soon received from the First Presidency a most challenging and significant assignment. He was assigned to give assistance to members of the Church in Europe who had been devastated by World War II. He witnessed the ravages of war. He saw the hungry, the cold, the destitute.

Frederick W. Babbel, called to serve as executive secretary to Elder Benson while he was in Europe, wrote to his family:
“The Lord knew what he was doing when he sent [Elder] Benson over here. He is a living apostle of God in every way. … I continue to marvel at his unwavering faith, his unflinching courage, his resolute determination and undaunted spirit. … He not only speaks to God, but he listens, and I’m sure God speaks with him even as he did with his apostles of old. … [He is] one of the humblest, most devoted men I have ever known, so kind in spirit and manner … a man surpassing all men I have known.” (On Wings of Faith, p. 125.)

In this special assignment, President Benson was responsible for perhaps the largest distribution of welfare supplies to members that has been undertaken. Thousands of tons of food, clothing, bedding, and medical supplies were delivered to Saints in thirteen nations. It is significant that he will now be sustained as the President of the Church during the fiftieth anniversary of the welfare program.

During that historic mission away from his family, Elder Benson held meetings with the Saints, reorganized the branches and missions, and lifted members’ spirits. To them he was an angel of mercy.

Only by prayer and divine intervention was he able to accomplish that mission and gain entrance into some countries. He said, “I assure you I know the source of the success which attended our labors. … It would [have been impossible] … to accomplish the mission … without the directing power of the Almighty.” (In Conference Report, Apr. 1947, p. 152.)

Consider the experience of Elder Dallin H. Oaks of the Quorum of the Twelve. Some years ago, Elder Oaks was living in Chicago when one night he was confronted by a young robber with a gun. Elder Oaks had no money to give him, no watch, nothing of value except his car—and his wife was in the car. Both Elder Oaks and his wife were at great risk. During the encounter, Elder Oaks had an opportunity to grab the gun without the likelihood of being shot. “I was taller and heavier than this young man,” Elder Oaks explains, “and at that time of my life was somewhat athletic. I had no doubt that I could prevail in a quick wrestling match if I could get his gun out of the contest.
“Just as I was about to make my move, I had a unique experience. I did not see anything or hear anything, but I knew something. I knew what would happen if I grabbed that gun. We would struggle, and I would turn the gun into that young man’s chest. It would fire, and he would die. I also knew that I must not have the blood of that young man on my conscience for the rest of my life.” (See New Era, Mar. 1994, 4.)
How should you react in a similar situation? Who knows? It would be a different time, a different robber, a different place. The point is that Elder Oaks had not conditioned himself to automatically react violently. But he had conditioned himself to listening to the still, small voice. So when the idea of grabbing the gun came to him, he was willing and able to be guided by the Spirit.
It’s also important to note that Elder Oaks had ended up in a dangerous area because he and his wife were taking another sister home from a Church activity. He certainly wasn’t looking for trouble. He had taken reasonable precautions, such as leaving Sister Oaks in a locked car and later making sure the street was clear before going back out to the car.

Clark and I can both attest to moments of exhaustion in our marriage and parenting responsibilities. Here’s a picture of our young family at a Red Sox game—look at those dark bags under my husband’s eyes! He was a new faculty member at the Harvard Business School. We had young children, yet he was always up early with our babies. He took night shifts with bottles and changing diapers. He always came home from work ready to focus on me and on the children. He was present in our lives, and I knew he was putting me and our family first, even with his considerable responsibilities at work. It wasn’t always easy, and sometimes he was really tired.

He wasn’t the only one. This was particularly true when we had our twins. Those early years were such hard work! Here I am holding our twins. Those years now feel like a blur. These are our twins today, graduated from high school and starting college. They are smart, independent, faithful, hardworking young women who have grown and been nurtured in our home. When I look back at all of those late nights and early mornings, I sit in awe at who those girls have become. I marvel at the role I was allowed to play in their lives as their mother.

The sorrow Joseph felt at the deaths of these two beloved brothers was perhaps surpassed by another event involving another brother. After a seemingly trivial disagreement, Joseph’s brother William turned against him and became disaffected from the Church. Along with other apostates, he began publicly declaring Joseph a “fallen prophet.” The worst damage, however, was done within the family circle. Joseph describes William’s angry departure from the Church:
“He went home and spread the leaven of iniquity among my brothers, and especially prejudiced the mind of brother Samuel. I soon learned that he was in the street exclaiming against me, and no doubt our enemies rejoiced at it” (History of the Church, 2:297).
Despite the wound inflicted by a rebellious-yet-beloved brother, Joseph felt no vengeance, no hate, no bitterness—only patience and forgiveness. His actions toward William are a profound example of the Lord’s wise counsel to show “forth afterwards an increase of love toward him whom thou hast reproved, lest he esteem thee to be his enemy; that he may know that thy faithfulness is stronger than the cords of death” (D&C 121:43–44).
Daniel Tyler, who attended a meeting with Joseph Smith shortly after William’s apostasy and bitter denunciations of his brother, the Prophet, left us this touching account of Joseph’s anguish over his wayward brother: “I perceived sadness in his countenance and tears trickling down his cheeks. A few moments later a hymn was sung and he opened the meeting by prayer. Instead of facing the audience, however, he turned his back and bowed upon his knees, facing the wall. This I suppose, was done to hide his sorrow and tears.
“That prayer, which was to a considerable extent in behalf of those who accused him of having gone astray and fallen into sin, that the Lord would forgive them and open their eyes that they might see aright—that prayer … partook of the learning and eloquence of heaven” (Juvenile Instructor, 15 February 1892, page 127).
It was a measure of the greatness of the Prophet that he regarded the spiritual unity of the family so highly; thus, forgiveness and love prevailed. He patiently and lovingly helped his brother William again into the fellowship of the family and the Church, despite the damage he had done to Joseph and the Church.

Girls in Grand Forks, North Dakota, got a real-life taste of what Noah’s Ark was like. But instead of braving a flood, these girls sailed toward friendship, love, and a stronger testimony of the scriptures.
Besides the normal camp activities of hiking, tying knots, and building fires, these girls spent part of their camp time constructing and spending time inside a mock ark. The ark helped the girls understand how involved building the ark must have been, and protected them from heavy summer rains!
Testimony meetings and other campfire activities were held inside the ark. These events helped the girls grow closer to each other and to their Heavenly Father.
After camp was over, the girls agreed the project helped them “get on board the gospel.”

I was so excited to read “Conver(t)sation” by Laird Roberts in the October New Era. When I read “The best way to get someone interested in the Church is to be friends with him,” it really hit home. My best friend, Diane, is responsible for my conversion. Thanks to her loving patience and friendship, I am now a member of the Church. We were close friends for about four years before I was baptized, and in that time she never once passed judgment on my actions or tried to force the Church on me. When the time was right, she made an appointment for me to have the missionary discussions. She sat through every discussion with me. Her entire family became involved, and her older brother helped teach me the gospel. He confirmed me a member of the Church and recently left on a mission. What a choice experience my baptism was for me! Since my baptism, Diane’s been the perfect example, and we’ve become even closer friends. I am so thankful for her and her family. In fact, they even subscribed to the New Era for me. It is because they took the time to care and offer friendship that I am now a member of the Church.
Becki LeDouxSacramento, California

I always told myself that I would never drink or smoke because that was what I was taught. Then I started doing things with people that did drink and smoke. The more I was around them, the more curious I became. One night I drank; then a couple of days later I tried smoking. Smoking made me sick, so I know for a fact that I will never do that again. But it took me almost a year to realize that drinking is wrong and that I don’t want to drink any more. Most people do want to find these things out for themselves rather than take other’s advice, but please remember this. It’s easier to say no if you have never tried it even once.
Name Withheld

As I sat at home trying to calm my anxiety over what was going on in the world, I opened my journal randomly and landed on the following: “There are so many fears that come with getting up each day in this world, but with faith in the teachings of the gospel, we can put one foot in front of the other. … Faith always defeats fear.”
I knew that I had just received powerful personal revelation and that Heavenly Father gave it to me through my own journal entries from several years before. I was blessed with a moment of peace and the knowledge that Heavenly Father was with me back then, and He’s right here with me now.
Danette Gray, Utah, USA

One Sunday many years ago in my home ward in southeast Idaho (a predominantly LDS community suffering from a generally casual attitude toward the Church that many such communities suffer), an eight year old girl had been baptized the day before. At that time children whose families were members were confirmed on the day after their baptism on Saturday—usually Fast Sunday. After being confirmed, and after the congregation had partaken of the Sacrament, the meeting was opened for testimonies. At some point the young girl got up and came to the podium. Clearly impressed by her experience, and unprompted by her parents, she bore witness of the importance of what had happened to her. As near as I can recall she then said, “I’m grateful to have been baptized and I think it’s a shame that people don’t take their baptismal covenant more seriously.” This is someone who understood.

Guiding the sisters back to the temple was the goal of the Merthyr Tydfil Wales Stake Relief Society presidency when they set out to plan a temple focus week.
Aware that many sisters had not returned to the temple since COVID-19 restrictions had been lifted, the presidency decided to encourage not only temple attendance, but also an invitation to focus on the temple all week.
Kicking off the focus week with a Sunday evening devotional, sisters in the stake were introduced to a calendar of activities which would help them to turn their hearts to the temple, their covenants and their family each day.
Much thought went into the ideas for the daily activities and it was hoped that the sisters would connect with their living relatives, as well as complete research for their deceased ancestors. Suggested activities for the week centered on family history projects, conference talks, service opportunities, scriptures and ideas to make connections with living relatives.
During the devotional, sisters also heard talks from President and Sister Jensen, who were just about to be released from the London England Temple presidency. They shared beautiful testimonies of how their time in the temple had taught them about the importance of covenants, and how the temple experience is personal and individual.
Merthyr Tydfil Stake president, Simon Hayes, spoke to the sisters and left his blessing upon their efforts in the coming week.
The week culminated with over 40 sisters attending the London England Temple together. The sisters were joined in the temple on the day by young adult brethren from the stake, who assisted in all aspects of a special baptistry session.
One sister commented, “I enjoyed the company and conversation with the sisters on the drive to the temple, and was blessed that more work was accomplished than I had anticipated.”
With distances to the temple being so far for many families in the stake, the actual temple visit on the Saturday was an act of faith on the part of the presidency. Stake Relief Society president, Theresa Williams commented. “Our faith was rewarded as the temple filled with the happy faces of so many of our sisters. It was a real glimpse of heaven for us to all be there together. Participating in the activities of the week brought a sense of unity even though we were taking part separately. We knew that somewhere in the stake our sisters were joined with us in the work of salvation. ‘Fulfil ye my joy, that ye be likeminded, having the same love, being one accord, of one mind’ (Philippians 2:2).”

“I had wanted to tell others about the Book of Mormon since the day I found it when I was eight years old,” she says. “Now I felt I had to become a missionary.”
But she was only seventeen. Every year thereafter on her birthday, she asked her bishop if she was old enough yet to be called on a mission, but each year he told her she must wait until she was twenty-one. In the meantime, she taught Primary and Sunday School and continued to grow in her knowledge of the gospel.
Then—on the very day she turned twenty-one—her call came.
Sister Marilu Ramirez was prepared. A bright student, she was teaching elementary school even before finishing her university degree, and she carefully saved her earnings. By the time she received her call, she had saved up enough money to pay for her entire mission. At that point she gave up her job, with no assurance of finding one when she returned.
Her family was sure she was insane. The child who had wasted time and money on religious books was now throwing away a good job, all her savings, and eighteen months of her life. But once again, no amount of pressure made any difference.
Now on her mission, she prays for her family and writes them weekly.
On 24 January 1988, as her group is about to leave the Mexico City Missionary Training Center and enter their fields of labor, Sister Marilu Ramirez stands during a meeting to bear her testimony. Her jet black hair, pulled back and held in place with two blue hair clips, almost reaches her waist.
At the pulpit, she stands on a short stool in order to speak into the microphone. Her petite frame suggests that she might speak timidly, but her voice is powerful and her testimony is that of a mature disciple. “I have had to fight to get here,” she says with emotion, “and I have learned that without the Lord, I am nothing. But I have felt his infinite love for me, and I know in whom I have confided.”
The next day, as she meets her new mission president and his assistants, she again bears powerful witness of the Father’s love. “When I entered the temple for the first time a few days ago, I felt his Spirit and was overwhelmed by his love,” she says. “As I prayed to him, I asked, ‘Why do you love me so much?’ And I seemed to hear an answer: ‘Don’t you know I love all the world—all my children? I don’t want anyone to be lost.’ And I began to comprehend the great love he has for each one of us.” Her voice again fills with emotion. “I know that our Heavenly Father and his son Jesus Christ live and love us. I feel very honored to be a daughter of God and to serve him as a missionary.”
Sister Ramirez is currently teaching the gospel to non-members who come to the Mexico City Temple visitors’ center. In the evenings, she and her companion go out into the surrounding neighborhoods to teach families the gospel in their homes.
Like that eight-year-old child, the twenty-one year old missionary is still consumed with thoughts about God. And her cup, filled drop by drop when she read the pages of the Book of Mormon as a child, is now overflowing.

The next day, when the kids came down the corridor of the church, they found my classroom door closed—not because I wasn’t ready for them, but because I was. A large sign taped across the entrance read, “NOTICE: This is a magic cave. Please enter quietly.” I invited them inside.
“This,” I held up the old music box, “this is magic.” As mysteriously as I could, I told Miranda’s story. By the end of the tale the class had unanimously decided my niece must be crazy.
“Why?” I zeroed in on one girl.
“Well,” she summed up the situation, “All that stuff in the box was just fake. She’s nuts.”
“Then aren’t we all?” I asked, pulling out some surprise visual aids. I held up a pair of jeans—the most popular brand; some shirts with all the stylish patches in all the stylish places; a popular magazine, complete with pictures of the latest haircuts, jewelry, and makeup.
“Do these have magical powers to make us beautiful? I thumbed the magazine open before them. “The only power they have is what we give them. Are we crazy?”
I stopped flipping pages at an appealing cigarette ad. “A magic potion to make us brave, right? All you have to do is hold this little roll of tobacco and just like that, you’re cool! You’re tough! You’re in! Right?” The bell hadn’t even rung yet, but my lesson was over. Three-year-old Miranda and I had made our point.

I realized that our special communication had vanished, but I was still shocked one day to open my mail and find a wedding announcement from Emily. Even more surprising was the absence of the word temple in the announcement.
I rushed home that weekend and headed straight for Emily’s. There we talked—talked in the almost forgotten way we had that eternal year ago. She had only known Ted two months, but he was the most handsome, intelligent, popular guy on campus. They would both finish college, and then Ted would go on to dental school. His folks had already agreed to help them with expenses, so that would be no problem. After he graduated, Emily joked, all they would have to do is sit around and rake up the money.
Once again I had begun to feel close to Emily, when suddenly, I heard myself wondering out loud why there had been no mention of the temple on her announcement. “Well, we can’t,” she said, her flippant attitude not quite covering the concern I sensed. “Ted’s a Baptist in the first place, and besides, we want to be married in his parents’ ski lodge and write our own ceremony. A wedding should be really personal and meaningful, not just the same words for everyone. Ted will join the Church someday. But even if he doesn’t, my dad’s not a member and it hasn’t stopped my mother from being active. It won’t stop me either.”
By the time Emily was through with her well-practiced little spiel, her defiance had built a wall between us once again. What could I say? After a few moments of fumbling chatter to try to ease the discomfort, I said goodbye.
Three weeks later I attended Ted and Emily’s ski lodge wedding. Contrary to my expectations, it was a very striking event—though not religious in any way. They both read poetry to each other for the ceremony, while a flute played lightly in the background. After there was dancing, with punch for us Mormons and champagne for the others. Ted’s parents were super rich, I could tell, and they had just about planned the whole wedding. They were deliriously happy with their new daughter-in-law (and probably a little from the champagne, too). But I noticed Emily’s mom had really red and swollen eyes—like she’d been crying a lot. Mothers are that way—especially when it’s their only child.
Surprisingly enough, Emily did stay active in the Church. With all her school work and married duties, she attended her meetings faithfully and also served as the assistant librarian. She and Ted lived in an apartment in our ward and I saw her quite often. She always gave me glowing reports of marriage and told how great Ted was to her. “What a life,” I thought.
Six months later Karen married a returned missionary who was just completing his master’s degree in education. They were married in the Logan Temple, so I couldn’t go, of course. But I did attend the reception in our cultural hall, and it was really beautiful. After the wedding Karen and David honeymooned on their way to California, where he would teach in a junior college. Not exactly raking in the money, but they seemed very happy, and I had a sense of well-being just talking to them.
Well, that left me—21 and the old maid of the gleesome threesome. I had never dated quite as much as blonde, beauty-queen Emily or smart, vivacious Karen, but I never thought it would come to this. I sometimes felt that Karen and Emily had married rather young and was sure I wasn’t of old maid vintage yet. But then, a lot of my other friends were getting married too, and I began wondering, “Am I right and the rest of the world wrong?” Relatively speaking, I was panicked.
Just after Karen’s wedding I started going with Allen Johnson. He was great! Really everything I’d ever wanted—kind, intelligent, a great conversationalist—and he liked to do really fun things for dates, like candlelight dinners in the canyon and roller skating downtown after the stores were closed. Only one problem—Allen was not a member of the Church. I had never really intended to start dating him, but he kept insisting and was so cute about it, I couldn’t resist.
We’d been dating off and on for nearly a year when, out of the blue, he popped the big question. “I love you,” he said. “I want you to be my wife.” I gave him a flat no at first and explained, as I had many times before, about my religious beliefs. He told me to think about it.
Believe me, when you’re twenty-two and haven’t even had another offer, and you’ve never enjoyed being with anyone so much in your life, and your two best friends have been married over a year and are both expecting babies, and one of them is married to a nonmember and couldn’t be happier, I tell you, you think about it. And I thought about it some more.
I kept seeing Emily now, coming to church radiant and excited about everything she was doing. “No problems at all,” she would say. “He’s really very liberal. ‘You go to your church and I’ll go to mine.’ Only he doesn’t even go to his.” But in the back of my mind I could also see Emily when we were younger: praying her nonmember dad would baptize her, wondering if her dad would take her to the Primary daddy-daughter party, trying to pretend it didn’t matter when he went golfing instead of coming to her seminary graduation. But then childhood is such a small part of life. What difference does it really make in the long run? And so I continued to think about Allen.
Karen and Emily, still doing things together, had baby girls within a week of each other. I took a pink dress to Emily’s little Julie and absolutely fell in love with her. Karen’s mother told me in church one day that Karen, David, and their little Melissa would be coming in March to show off the baby and get her blessed where Grandpa and all three of Karen’s adoring older brothers could stand in the circle.
Then came the first Sunday in March. I’ll never forget that day. Just after Sunday School Bishop Edwards asked me if I could come to his office an hour before fast meeting for a little talk. Well, I know the bishop doesn’t just call people in for a little talk for no reason. I wondered what I had done—or what I was going to do. But I did tell him I would be there.
At three o’clock I found myself stepping on the rich blue carpeting of the bishop’s office and then staring into the eyes of a man who, it seemed, instantly knew everything about me. I had known Bishop Edwards for a long time. He had been my Sunday School teacher when I was in junior high school and had been bishop now for a couple of years. I hadn’t known him as a bishop too well since I spent many Sundays in my student branch at school. But now, as I looked at him, I knew what a wonderful man he was and the great power he represented.
After a few minutes of small talk about school, family, and whatever, he got to the point of this meeting. “Today as I looked over the congregation, my eyes rested on you,” he said intensely, “and as clearly as we have been speaking to each other, a voice said to me, ‘That girl needs to go on a mission.’” I was stunned! That was the last thing I expected him to say. Me? On a mission? His voice interrupted my thoughts.
“I can see by your expression that you didn’t receive the same inspiration. It must come as quite a surprise. But it’s something you don’t have to decide right now. You think about it and be sure to include your parents and the Lord in your decision. Just let me know when you’ve found your answer.”
A few moments later I walked out of the door, and the fluorescent lighting of the hall hit me with the reality of the situation. I figured in two years I’d really be an old maid. But two years might give Allen time to join the Church on his own. It would give me a chance to find myself. And most important, it would be a chance to get closer to the Lord and serve his children more than I had ever done, I found an empty room and knelt in prayer, asking my Heavenly Father to help me make the right decision. When I stood, I felt a certain calm, even though I still didn’t feel that I had a positive answer.
As I made my way down the stairs and into the chapel, I met Emily and her baby in the foyer. It was her first time back to church since Julie’s birth. We talked for a minute and then entered the chapel. Emily and her mother sat in the row in front of me, and just before the meeting, Emily leaned back guiltily and whispered to me, “I forgot this was fast Sunday until I looked at the program. We just finished eating a turkey dinner at Ted’s, so I guess I’ll have to fast twice next month.” I smiled and just then my stomach growled uncomfortably, testifying to the fact that I had remembered.
Through the rows of heads and shoulders that I saw from my position on the fourth row from the back, I caught a glimpse of Karen and the rest of her family taking up an entire center bench. I was glad that she had made it but sorry I’d missed her before the meeting. I’d have to hurry to the front after the closing prayer to talk to her.
After the songs and announcements were over and after we had taken the sacrament, Bishop Edwards stood behind the pulpit and said, “This afternoon we have a special treat. I know many of you have known Karen Evans since she was a little girl.” Emily looked back at me and winked knowingly, but then turned her head sharply forward as the bishop went on. “Well, this afternoon Karen, now Karen Sanders, has brought her own little girl to receive a name and a blessing from her husband. Assisting in the circle will be her father and brothers.”
As I watched David take his little girl from Karen and carry her almost reverently to the front, I could see a side view of Emily. Tears were rapidly filling her deep blue eyes and streaming down her face onto Julie’s downy head. Her shoulders shook violently as she buried her head in her baby’s neck. Emily’s mother tenderly put her arm around her daughter’s throbbing shoulders, and I could see that she, too, was crying. Emily looked up, and I heard her gasp in a desperate whisper, “Oh Mama! Who is going to bless my baby?”
“I bless you, Melissa, with a sound mind and body,” I heard David Sanders say at the front of the room, “and that you will live a righteous life, that when the time comes, you will meet a choice son of our Father in heaven, one who honors his priesthood and who will take you to the temple of the Lord to be sealed to him for eternity.” Through the entire blessing and for the rest of the meeting, Julie’s baby shawl absorbed her tears.
And now, even though a year has passed, and even though the dark-haired women in this once strange country contrast vividly with blonde Emily, whenever my companion and I are out tracting, or we go to a branch meeting and I see a mother and baby alone, something grabs at my heart. For I keep seeing Emily.