Gospel Story Finder

Something special happened when our stake in Santiago, Chile, assigned the young women and their leaders in La Florida Third Ward to participate in a “12 days of Christmas” activity. Each day for 12 days we went to visit Sister Brigida, a sister in our ward who is more than 80 years old and can no longer come to church. Each time we went, we took her and her young granddaughters something different. To prepare for our visits, the young women and their mothers baked bread or cookies and made or purchased small gifts.
Sister Brigida’s home did not have many of life’s comforts, but it was full of love. The warmth and kindness she extended to us was touching, and it made a strong impression on the girls. They still remember how beautiful Christmas was and how good they felt as they gave of their time.
Even though I hadn’t asked the young women to bring a gift for our visit on Christmas Eve, I saw with great joy that each one had prepared a small, personal gift for Sister Brigida and each of her granddaughters. Many of the young women cried that night as they embraced Sister Brigida. The gratitude and love on her face was her gift to us.
That Christmas Eve, we forgot about presents and shopping and found the real meaning of Christmas. We discovered that service to others is a celebration of love and life—the way the Savior lived His life.

When I was 11, I started doing yard work for Grandpa. Either he would pick me up in his white Dodge Dart or I would ride my Schwinn Stingray across the overpass to his house. At first all I did was mow his lawn, but later I started pruning, planting, and working the compost pile. When we worked in the garden, Grandpa always wore a pair of brown trousers stained with paint and grass. He cinched the trousers high on his waist with a ragged belt that was too long, and tried to keep his plaid shirt tucked into them. On his head sat a mesh golf cap, and in his hand he carried his working cane, a dull-colored hardwood cane my sister Kris had bought in Salt Lake City, as a Christmas gift for him one year.
The handle of the cane was curved like the wood on Mom’s bentwood rocker, but rougher, and the shaft disappeared into a round rubber toe like the kind used on crutches. This cane was not as stiff as Grandpa’s first cane, nor as elegant as his second, but it was more useful than both of them. He not only used it around the house for opening cupboards or reaching for the phone book, but outside as a garden tool.
When he needed to water a dry spot out between the pine trees, he would hobble through the grass, pulling the hose along behind him with his cane. In early spring, after I had pruned his fruit trees, he held the discarded limbs in place with his cane while I tightened the twine around them. And over Memorial Day weekend we planted his garden together: I dug the furrows and bent low to plant the seeds, and he followed behind, pushing the soil over the seeds with the handle of his cane, then tamping the soil until it was firm. Later in the summer, he would hold the clambering delphinium stocks away from the fence while I tied them to stakes. And in October he would sit patiently under his pear tree in a chair, staring into the boughs, pointing with his cane to a piece of fruit I had missed.
After a few years, during which it was used for virtually everything, the cane was all scratches and dents. Part of the handle had splintered badly, then worn smooth again so that I could feel a slight depression when I held the cane. The upper part of the bow was discolored from being held so much, and near the rubber toe were splashes of paint and grease. When Grandpa first got this cane I didn’t like it much—there was nothing distinctive about it—but after years of constant use it developed a personality. It didn’t protect or dazzle, but it served well.

My little brother, Jacob, and I do everything together. We are two years apart but almost the same size. People always ask if we are twins.
One day when we were playing, Jacob cut his finger really bad. We rushed inside to run water on his finger. While Mom checked his finger, I put my arm around him to make him feel better. He was really scared.
Mom decided that Jacob needed to go to the hospital so that they could treat his finger. Our neighbor offered to watch our little sister and asked if I wanted to go with them. I looked at Jacob. He begged me to go with him. Even though I knew it would be a long wait at the hospital, I decided to go with him. He needed me.
On the way to the hospital, Mom had me say a prayer for Jacob. When we arrived, I tried to make sure he was comfortable. We brought a water bottle with us, and I made sure I offered him lots of drinks to take his mind off his finger.
When we finally saw the doctor, I was a little scared. I didn’t know if my brother would need stitches. I knew it might hurt.
While they worked on Jacob’s finger, he screamed and cried. Mom didn’t want me to watch, so I stayed in a corner of the room while she held Jacob’s hand. Seeing him in pain made me cry, too.
Soon Jacob’s finger was bandaged and we were able to go home. Mom told me that I had been “my brother’s keeper.” She said that in a small way, I had felt how Jesus feels about us when we are sad and hurting. I am glad I was able to be there for my brother when he needed me.

Earlier this year, I asked the young adults of the Church to consecrate a portion of their time each week to study everything Jesus said and did as recorded in the standard works.9 I invited them to let the scriptural citations about Jesus Christ in the Topical Guide become their personal core curriculum.10
I gave that challenge because I had already accepted it myself. I read and underlined every verse cited about Jesus Christ, as listed under the main heading and the 57 subtitles in the Topical Guide.11 When I finished that exciting exercise, my wife asked me what impact it had on me. I told her, “I am a different man!”
I felt a renewed devotion to Him as I read again in the Book of Mormon the Savior’s own statement about His mission in mortality. He declared:
“I came into the world to do the will of my Father, because my Father sent me.
“And my Father sent me that I might be lifted up upon the cross.”12
As Latter-day Saints, we refer to His mission as the Atonement of Jesus Christ, which made resurrection a reality for all and made eternal life possible for those who repent of their sins and receive and keep essential ordinances and covenants.
It is doctrinally incomplete to speak of the Lord’s atoning sacrifice by shortcut phrases, such as “the Atonement” or “the enabling power of the Atonement” or “applying the Atonement” or “being strengthened by the Atonement.” These expressions present a real risk of misdirecting faith by treating the event as if it had living existence and capabilities independent of our Heavenly Father and His Son, Jesus Christ.
Under the Father’s great eternal plan, it is the Savior who suffered. It is the Savior who broke the bands of death. It is the Savior who paid the price for our sins and transgressions and blots them out on condition of our repentance. It is the Savior who delivers us from physical and spiritual death.
There is no amorphous entity called “the Atonement” upon which we may call for succor, healing, forgiveness, or power. Jesus Christ is the source. Sacred terms such as Atonement and Resurrection describe what the Savior did, according to the Father’s plan, so that we may live with hope in this life and gain eternal life in the world to come. The Savior’s atoning sacrifice—the central act of all human history—is best understood and appreciated when we expressly and clearly connect it to Him.
The importance of the Savior’s mission was emphasized by the Prophet Joseph Smith, who declared emphatically that “the fundamental principles of our religion are the testimony of the Apostles and Prophets, concerning Jesus Christ, that He died, was buried, and rose again the third day, and ascended into heaven; and all other things which pertain to our religion are only appendages to it.”13
It was this very statement of the Prophet that provided the incentive for 15 prophets, seers, and revelators to issue and sign their testimony to commemorate the 2,000th anniversary of the Lord’s birth. That historic testimony is titled “The Living Christ.”14 Many members have memorized its truths. Others barely know of its existence. As you seek to learn more about Jesus Christ, I urge you to study “The Living Christ.”
As we invest time in learning about the Savior and His atoning sacrifice, we are drawn to participate in another key element to accessing His power: we choose to have faith in Him and follow Him.
True disciples of Jesus Christ are willing to stand out, speak up, and be different from the people of the world. They are undaunted, devoted, and courageous. I learned of such disciples during a recent assignment in Mexico, where I met with government officials as well as leaders of other religious denominations. Each thanked me for our members’ heroic and successful efforts to protect and preserve strong marriages and families in their country.
There is nothing easy or automatic about becoming such powerful disciples. Our focus must be riveted on the Savior and His gospel. It is mentally rigorous to strive to look unto Him in every thought.15 But when we do, our doubts and fears flee.16
Recently I learned of a fearless young Laurel. She was invited to participate in a statewide competition for her high school on the same evening she had committed to participate in a stake Relief Society meeting. When she realized the conflict and explained to competition officials that she would need to leave the competition early to attend an important meeting, she was told she would be disqualified if she did so.
What did this latter-day Laurel do? She kept her commitment to participate in the Relief Society meeting. As promised, she was disqualified from the statewide competition. When asked about her decision, she replied simply, “Well, the Church is more important, isn’t it?”
Faith in Jesus Christ propels us to do things we otherwise would not do. Faith that motivates us to action gives us more access to His power.
We also increase the Savior’s power in our lives when we make sacred covenants and keep those covenants with precision. Our covenants bind us to Him and give us godly power. As faithful disciples, we repent and follow Him into the waters of baptism. We walk along the covenant path to receive other essential ordinances.17 And gratefully, God’s plan provides for those blessings to be extended to ancestors who died without an opportunity to obtain them during their mortal lives.18
Covenant-keeping men and women seek for ways to keep themselves unspotted from the world so there will be nothing blocking their access to the Savior’s power. One faithful wife and mother wrote this recently: “These are troubled and perilous times. How blessed we are to have the increased knowledge of the plan of salvation and the inspired guidance from loving prophets, apostles, and leaders to help us sail these stormy seas safely. We stopped our habit of turning on the radio in the morning. Instead, we now listen to a general conference talk on our mobile phones every morning as we prepare ourselves for another day.”
Another element in drawing the Savior’s power into our lives is to reach up to Him in faith. Such reaching requires diligent, focused effort.
Do you remember the biblical story of the woman who suffered for 12 years with a debilitating problem?19 She exercised great faith in the Savior, exclaiming, “If I may touch but his clothes, I shall be whole.”20
This faithful, focused woman needed to stretch as far as she could to access His power. Her physical stretching was symbolic of her spiritual stretching.
Many of us have cried out from the depths of our hearts a variation of this woman’s words: “If I could spiritually stretch enough to draw the Savior’s power into my life, I would know how to handle my heart-wrenching situation. I would know what to do. And I would have the power to do it.”
When you reach up for the Lord’s power in your life with the same intensity that a drowning person has when grasping and gasping for air, power from Jesus Christ will be yours. When the Savior knows you truly want to reach up to Him—when He can feel that the greatest desire of your heart is to draw His power into your life—you will be led by the Holy Ghost to know exactly what you should do.21
When you spiritually stretch beyond anything you have ever done before, then His power will flow into you.22 And then you will understand the deep meaning of words we sing in the hymn “The Spirit of God”:
The Lord is extending the Saints’ understanding. …
The knowledge and power of God are expanding;
The veil o’er the earth is beginning to burst.23
The gospel of Jesus Christ is filled with His power, which is available to every earnestly seeking daughter or son of God. It is my testimony that when we draw His power into our lives, both He and we will rejoice.24
As one of His special witnesses, I declare that God lives! Jesus is the Christ! His Church has been restored to the earth! God’s prophet upon the earth today is President Thomas S. Monson, whom I sustain with all my heart. I so testify, with my expression of love and blessing for each of you, in the sacred name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Upon his arrival in the mission field, a new missionary sat with me as we discussed his duties and responsibilities and the discipline they would require of him. As I outlined what was expected of him, he stopped me: “Just a minute, President Backman. There’s something you ought to know. I’m stupid.”

Being determined to demonstrate to him the great capacity for service he possessed as a son of God, and to awaken in him a realization of his unique mission on earth, I assigned him to a senior companion who really worked him hard, pressing him to learn, grow, and serve, despite his professed weakness. In addition, I kept pressuring him to the point that his district leader wrote me in a report that the new missionary intended to punch me in the nose the next time I toured the mission.

Within weeks my wife and I made a final tour of the mission before we were released. I took the opportunity to sit down privately with each missionary so I could express my love and confidence in him. The new missionary’s turn came. I closed the door of the room behind him, removed the glasses I was wearing, and said, “If it will make you feel any better, elder, go right ahead and punch me in the nose.” For a moment, I thought he was going to do what he had threatened to do. Instead, he fell into my arms crying. I then had one of those precious moments when I shared with him my knowledge and understanding of his divine potential and his capacity to love and serve his fellow beings. As we concluded our discussion, I remarked that if he wanted to make me happy, he would come to my office in Salt Lake City in about two years and tell me he had finished his mission.

We had been home from our mission about two years when I looked up from my office desk one morning to see a grinning face peering through the door. It was my missionary. Without any word of greeting , he declared, “President, I finished my mission!”

I was so proud of him!

The Lord said, “My sheep hear my voice” (John 10:27). Likewise, your children respond to your voice. No one can effectively take your place as father and mother. The story is told of “the six-year-old who got lost from his mother in a large supermarket [and] began to call frantically, ‘Martha, Martha.’ When the mother was found and they were reunited, she said, ‘Honey, you should not call me Martha; I am “Mother” to you,’ to which the little fellow rejoined, ‘Yes, I know, but the store was full of mothers and I wanted mine’” (Spencer W. Kimball, Faith Precedes the Miracle [1972], 117).

The first time Zack Clark of Phoenix, Arizona, played the cello, magic happened. His fingers pressed awkwardly upon the neck of the instrument as he pulled the bow across the strings. He was nine then and the notes he played were simple. But as the cello replied in its raspy baritone, Zack’s heart resonated to the sound. He had played with toy instruments as a child, but his sister Maegan played a real cello, and when he followed her example, it unlocked an inner symphony, a melody so complex and sweet he yearned to hear it again and to share it with others.
He quickly learned, however, that the notes of such a symphony do not migrate from the mind to the fingers without hard work. Under the guidance of a teacher who saw his potential, Zack was soon devoting four to seven hours each day to practice, immersing himself in a demanding discipline. He became principal cellist of school orchestras, the Metropolitan Youth Symphony, and the Phoenix Symphony Guild Youth Orchestra. At 14 he was named All-State cellist and performed solo at Arizona State University. He was invited to the World Cello Conference and was principal chair at major music camps including Brevard and Tanglewood. With his high school orchestra, he played at Carnegie Hall in New York City. At 18 he was selected principal cellist for the National High School Honors Orchestra. He auditioned for and received instruction from some of the best cellists in the world.
Music wasn’t everything, though. He had rhythm on a skateboard and an aptitude for folding origami birds. He remembered the birthdays of his family and friends, and he volunteered at a museum. Like many musicians, he was also good at math and found he could make most computer software sing. As a freshman at the Cleveland Institute of Music and Case Western Reserve University in Ohio, he began a double degree program in cello performance and computer engineering.
But it was while playing the cello that he could hear the symphony in his heart, and he kept perfecting his performance so that those listening could hear it too. And now as he performed, in the back of his mind he kept hearing another theme, quiet but constant. It sang of restoration, truth, angels, and light, of prophets, revelation, and the Holy Ghost. And even though his love of music had already filled him with a personal symphony, this new refrain brought clarity and fire to his soul. It reminded him of a favorite song:
We are as the army of Helaman.
We have been taught in our youth.
And we will be the Lord’s missionaries
To bring the world his truth.
(“We’ll Bring the World His Truth,” Children’s Songbook, 172)
The symphony in his heart was swelling, and as he heard the music in his soul, he knew the time for a full-time mission had come.
Many at school thought Zack was crazy. Other students studying with the same teacher had graduated to become the principal or assistant principal cellist with symphonies in Chicago and Seattle. Was Zack now abandoning a similar future for a strange cause?
It wasn’t strange to Zack. “For my entire life I’ve wanted to go on a mission,” he said. “It’s not a sacrifice, because I know I’ll be blessed. I keep thinking of the power of that phrase—‘to bring the world his truth.’ Sure, I’m setting aside the cello for two years, but I know it’s what the Lord wants me to do.”
Soon he received his call to the Scotland Edinburgh Mission, and as he read the letter from the prophet, the symphony sounded again. This time the melody reminded him of the Savior. “When you study music, you always want to learn from a master, someone with a higher knowledge than you,” Zack said. “As I read my call to serve, I realized that on my mission I would be serving the true Master, and that in His service, there is always much to learn.”
These refrains were also familiar—faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, obedience to the commandments, gospel study, service to others, sharing the truth. They were the themes of his life.
Today, as Elder Zack Clark is serving faithfully in Kirkcaldy, on the east coast of Scotland facing the North Sea, his personal symphony continues. Elder Clark and his companion, Elder Stoddard, just taught a husband and wife who both chose to be baptized. “If you want to hear music in your soul,” Elder Clark says, “just share the gospel. Watch someone embrace it, and as they learn and grow, the melody in your own heart will be sweet.”
“In the Book of Mormon there’s a scripture I just can’t get out of my head. Moroni has been addressing the unbelievers. He confirms that there is a God; he says that God is the same yesterday, today, and forever; that miracles were done in ancient times and still are done today. All of that is very logical. Then there’s this statement in Mormon 9:21: ‘Behold, I say unto you that whoso believeth in Christ, doubting nothing, whatsoever he shall ask the Father in the name of Christ it shall be granted him.’
“To me that scripture says that if you are righteous and have unwavering faith in the Lord, He’ll do anything for you if it is according to His will. On my mission, if He needs me to move a mountain to find somebody, I’ll be able to do that because of Him. When I get back, if He really wants me to play my cello again, then He’ll allow me—with the right determination—to get back in shape with my instrument.”
Imagine a concert featuring 20 of the best young musicians in a major metropolitan area, all performing barefoot! That’s what happened during Zack Clark’s Eagle Scout service project. He organized a concert to benefit children in need of footwear, and the musicians decided to emphasize the point by going without shoes or socks while they were on stage.
Admission to the concert was a pair of new shoes or socks, and 235 pairs of socks, 91 pairs of shoes, and other articles of clothing were donated for a local children’s home. Scouts from Zack’s troop distributed flyers promoting the event, served as ushers, prepared snacks, set up for the concert, and delivered items to the shelter, contributing more than 700 hours of service.
By studying music, Zack learned something that is now helping him in the mission field.
“Hard work is the key,” he says. “In music, you work on techniques and basics. Through practice and repetition, you learn obedience. You rehearse so much that when you perform, musicians say, ‘You have the music in your muscles.’ That means you’ve studied it so much it just pours out of you; you’re free to do your best. It’s the same way with the gospel. You study until you are so full that the Spirit can guide you to say the right things. Then when you teach, you know what to say.”
To hear Zack in performance, go to www.newera.lds.org, and click on the link.

It was very painful to face failures in my life, especially in my studies. In twelfth standard, I failed in my subjects again and again and again. It was too hard for me to bear. I almost gave up. But the Savior indeed helped me to stay strong and showed His bounteous mercy and grace to me, which helped me not to give up. Having a great hope in my heart, I took a different course and chose to do a diploma in mining engineering in which I was able to succeed. In fact, I was one of the toppers of my college in all six semesters of my 3-year course. It may sound magical, but it was a miracle. How did this happen? I testify that it was because of Christ’s grace that I received light in my life which helped me to have success in my education.

“Did I tell you enough times how much I love you, my son?” I silently wondered. As my husband and I sat in the intensive-care unit at the hospital, we prayed for the life of our eldest child, Joel. I held his thin, cold hand in mine, listening to machines keeping him alive and weeping at the thought that perhaps I hadn’t done enough to let him know of my love. Most of all, I wanted to tell him once more, “I love you.”
I don’t know how many times I have expressed my love for Joel since his life was spared. Our family members now show love for one another more often and more easily—both in word and in deed. We try not to miss a chance to express our affection.
Joel’s brush with death reminded us that life is short and that we can’t let any opportunity pass to show our children how much we love them—especially given the great joy and security children experience in knowing they are loved.

The Alonso family has also made the trip from Monterrey to Mexico City many times, but the most memorable one for them was when the teenagers in the family, Carlos, Emilio, and Rosa, were very small.

“I was four years old the first time we went to the temple,” says Rosa, who is now in the Beehive class. “I remember that when we were sealed we knelt around the altar, all dressed in white. Every time I remember that occasion, I feel warm inside.”

Carlos and his twin brother, Emilio, were nine years old when the family was sealed, and they too have wonderful memories of that time.

“It was very beautiful,” says Carlos. “I remember the mirrors where you can see for eternity.”

Emilio feels very much the same way. “It was beautiful because we were all together in the temple, and that is where we learn to be an eternal family and how to live.”

Daniel L. Carter
As a young boy in Idaho, Dan Carter often cried when he listened to the Tabernacle Choir at conference time because the music was so beautiful. He said, “I always yearned to be able to share my testimony and feelings of the gospel through music.”
When he was asked to write a song to help prepare boys to receive the priesthood, he worried about his ability to write one that boys would enjoy singing. “After several weeks of working and rewriting, an idea for the music came. … I felt … sure that this song [‘A Young Man Prepared’] could help boys.”

When Elder Henry D. Taylor was a little boy living in Provo, Utah, he often walked across the lane from his home to his grandmother’s house. Whenever he visited her, she would offer him crackers, raisins, or other delicacies. “One day, however,” Elder Taylor recounts, “without waiting to be offered a treat, I reached into the box where the crackers were stored and, much to my amazement and anguish, put my hand into a mousetrap that had been set. This remains as one of my earliest recollections.”

Elder Taylor was the fourth boy born to Arthur and Maria Dixon Taylor. Later two more boys and two girls joined the family. Elder Taylor’s father and three older brothers, as well as his two younger brothers, all had red hair, but Henry had dark hair like his mother. He has often jokingly said, “I must be the black sheep of the family.”

Although they lived in town, where Henry’s father was a businessman, the family owned a fruit farm several miles from Provo. Elder Taylor recalls that “for several years we moved to the farm for the summer. Father would travel by bicycle or horse and buggy to his work at the Taylor Brothers Company. We learned to spray the fruit trees, to irrigate them, and to harvest the fruit. Night irrigating was a cold, unpleasant task, and it discouraged us from wanting to become farmers.
“Mother gloried in farm life. She had a beautiful garden and enjoyed picking the various kinds of vegetables and fruits when they were ripe. In the evening she delighted in walking along the brow of the hill and in admiring the magnificent sunsets. I suppose from her enthusiasm most of us children developed an appreciation for sunsets and other beauties of nature.
“Father and I would often drive from Provo out to the farm. Just over the Provo River bridge was a grocery store with a blackboard in front that was used for advertising. Across the top of the blackboard was scrawled the saying, ‘As we travel through life, let us live by the way.’ On our return to Provo, I would recite this statement. Father would chuckle as he caught the hint. We would stop the horse in front of the store, and he would buy me an ice-cream cone.”

Later on, instead of spending summers at the farm, Elder Taylor’s family would move up the canyon to a tent-cabin and stay until school started in the fall. Moving up the canyon meant moving the cows as well. Because it was very hard on cows (and boys) to walk in the heat of the day, Henry and one of his brothers would leave between 3:30 A.M. and 4:00 A.M. in order to reach the mouth of the canyon by sunup.

“It was the summers that brought us together. I remember the annual building of a raft to float down the Provo River (Huck Finn style), swimming in the same waters, trekking over the mountainside to gather logs for bonfires in anticipation of Indian stories to come, leaping from a tall swing to see how far we could jump, hiking up Mount Timpanogos with John Swensen or Uncle Walt Dixon long before easy trails had been constructed.”

Reminiscing about his happy childhood Christmases, Elder Taylor remembers that “just through the block from us lived Professor Robert Sauer, a German convert. He was a music instructor at Brigham Young University and the leader of its band. While it was still dark on Christmas morning, Brother Sauer would arise, stand on his front porch, and play ‘Silent Night’ and ‘The Holy City’ on his trumpet.
“Father and Mother went to great lengths to make Christmas a happy time for us. One Christmas a piece of string led from our filled stockings to our major presents hidden somewhere in the house. Hours had been spent making these preparations. We boys arose before we were supposed to, and in the dark we accidentally broke the strings. Father and Mother had to spend the remainder of the night repairing the damage.
“We were a missionary family. There was never a question about whether or not we would go on missions; it was just a matter of waiting until we were old enough to serve. Father and Mother themselves went on a mission to England.”

Elder Taylor received a call to the Eastern States Mission. But during the summer before he was to leave, he and a brother had drunk some contaminated water while on a trip to southern Utah. As a result, Henry contracted typhoid fever and was not able to leave until later. He recalls that “when I first reached my mission, our room wasn’t well heated. We had our study class at 6:00 A.M., and I would don my bathrobe and sit there with my teeth chattering. I found that putting a hot toaster under my chair helped a little.”

At that time missionaries often traveled without purse or scrip. Elder Taylor said that during his mission “the Lord was good to us, and the people were kind and provided us with food and lodging. My mission experiences were humbling and inspirational.
“I salute you noble young people. You will be the leaders in your communities and the Church in the very near future. Live clean and useful lives. Happiness comes from keeping the Lord’s commandments. I leave my blessing with you, and pray that our Heavenly Father will guide, guard, and protect you.”

After I returned home from serving in the Guatemala Guatemala City Mission, I also traveled to Provo, Utah, to attend BYU. I was grateful for the kindness and support of so many people to help get me there. However, money was still going to be short.

Soon after I arrived in Provo, Thelma and I reviewed our financial situation. We both concluded that even with my working part-time, we did not have enough money to pay my rent and hers for the entire school year. Thelma never doubted that we would make it through that trial though. She trusted that the Lord would provide a way. Less than a week later, Thelma received a letter from BYU’s Spanish department. As she opened it, she turned to me and exclaimed, “This! This is how we are going to pay your rent!” The letter informed her that she had been accepted as a teacher’s assistant, which would increase her income.

Elder Hunter related an experience he had during the time he served as president of the Genealogical Society: “I went to see President McKay one day after a computer representative told me that his company had developed a cylinder that would hold a billion bits of information. I was excited! This was a break-through for genealogical record keeping. As I told President McKay about it, I said, ‘Isn’t that marvelous?’ He replied, ‘What’s marvelous about that? You haven’t had use for it before, have you?’ I replied, ‘No, we are just at that point now.’ And he said, ‘Well, that’s the reason the Lord has provided it now.’”

“Kurt is a Down syndrome Scout who also has coordination problems,” says a priesthood leader. “He went with our Scout troop on a hike of about thirty kilometers. After sixteen kilometers, he lost his walking rhythm. But with his dad in front of him and his Scoutmaster behind him, he walked every step. We waited hours for him to finish.

“When Kurt and his helpers finally appeared, a spontaneous cheer went up, and Kurt proudly ran the last part, crying, and saying, ‘I did it, I did it! They are cheering for me! They thing I’m good!’ Everyone had tears in their eyes. We will never forget that lesson.”

The story of Olga Ková?ová of the former Czechoslovakia is an example of member missionary work from our Relief Society history. In the 1970s, Olga was a doctoral student and hungry for a deeper spiritual life. She noticed 75-year-old Otakar Vojk?vka, a Latter-day Saint. “He appeared to me seventy-five in his age but in his heart nearer to eighteen and full of joy,” she said. “This was so unusual in Czechoslovakia at that time of cynicism.”

Olga asked Otakar and his family how they found joy. They introduced her to other Church members and gave her a Book of Mormon. She read it eagerly and was soon baptized and confirmed. Since that time Olga has been an influence for good in a world of political oppression and religious persecution. She served as Relief Society president in her little branch and helped save the souls of others by bringing them to Christ.3

By Mckenzi Ham
Growing up, I never felt any pressure to serve a mission. When I got to college, though, all of that changed. Suddenly I was in a whirlwind of young men and women whose entire futures revolved around serving a mission. Rather than a question of if, serving a mission became a when—even for me.
I wanted a mission to be right for me. I prayed. I talked to my bishop. I counseled with my parents. I read my scriptures. I received a father’s blessing. But I continued to feel anxious and overwhelmed about serving a mission. It wasn’t until I finally made the decision not to serve a mission that I found the peaceful feeling I had been searching for.
I had to just ignore all the voices and opinions around me trying to tell me what was best for me. The decision to serve or not was between me and Heavenly Father. Prayer was my greatest help in keeping the pressure off. As I turned to Him, all those voices seemed to fade away. Initially, I thought that my parents were pressuring me to serve, but when I really opened up and counseled with them, I realized that their love for me would always come first. They became one of my greatest supports.
At first, I absolutely felt judged for not serving a mission. But then I realized that a lot of that judgment was self-inflicted. As I prayed for peace and learned to be patient with myself, those insecurities slowly—so, so, so slowly—began to disappear. As I drew closer to Heavenly Father, I began to understand who I am and how much I’m worth in His eyes.
God put a lot of people in my path to help me grow. I started working and became really close with my coworkers. Most of them were a few years younger than me and were going through hard stuff at school and at home. I was able to be a friend to them, help them understand how much they mattered, and even uplift them spiritually. Even though I didn’t think I was doing much at the time—giving rides home, bringing treats to share—I see now how serving and loving them healed me spiritually.
The specifics of what Heavenly Father wanted me to do were fuzzy at first. But I knew that He loves me and wants me to be happy—to find joy and peace in life. I struggled for months with my decision because I didn’t want to decide. I wanted God to tell me what to do. But He loves me enough to let me choose for myself. To serve as a full-time missionary or continue serving right where I was were both righteous choices. Peace came after I prayerfully made my decision and presented it to Him.
The temple became my greatest source of comfort and peace. Eventually I even received my endowment. My temple experience brought me closer to my Savior and helped me to understand my divine self-worth. My temple covenants have blessed my life and made me feel His love even more. Ever since I received my endowment, I haven’t had any insecurities or felt any pressure about not having served a full-time mission.

Michael Diaz looks past the long barrel of a heavy cannon and scans the choppy waters of Portobelo, Panama. If an attack on the stronghold and the gold it guarded were to come by sea, the attacking ships would have to survive heavy fire from more than a dozen cannons, and their sailors would have to get past soldiers manning two waterfront forts, including the one where Michael stands. Past battles were fierce and frightening.
Fortunately for Michael, no such battles have taken place in more than 250 years.
A lot has changed since then. But as he paces along the thick stone walls of the ruins, Michael, 15, isn’t thinking about cell phones, the Internet, or men walking on the moon. He and his friends from the Colón Panama Stake are talking about the changes they have seen in themselves thanks to the Duty to God program.
“I’ve learned a lot,” Michael says. The others nod in agreement. “I have more faith in myself. I don’t have to depend spiritually on others so much. I have the courage to talk to others about the Church.”
Built to be strong, the forts stood guard over Portobelo for more than 100 years, and their remains still stand today.
The strength of the Duty to God program, according to these young men, is found in setting and completing goals. Their goals are helping them build spiritual strongholds that will help them stand against whatever they will have to face in life.
“You live in a day of great challenges,” said the First Presidency. “You can strengthen yourself, building faith and testimony, living the gospel while you learn it and share it” (Aaronic Priesthood: Fulfilling Our Duty to God [2001], 4).
Aldo Cardenas of the Puerto Pilon Ward recalls a recent goal to organize a family home evening with his father’s help. “My dad gave me the theme of the priesthood and how important it is to our family. I learned a lot about the priesthood. It’s a great blessing to us and others through us.”
He’s grateful for the way the program works. “Having to follow through with the goals has helped me to be more responsible,” he says.
Narcisso Garay, 17, of the Barriada Kuna Ward decided to set a goal to read the Book of Mormon every day. “My parents suggested that I read the other scriptures too. Now I’ve almost finished the New Testament. At first I thought it was boring, but now I’ve seen what Jesus suffered for us, and I know that we can return to Him.”
Michael’s older brother Isaac says completing the goals he has set in the program has strengthened him spiritually. When Isaac was a teacher, he was the only active member in his quorum. Duty to God has not only helped him; it has also provided opportunities for him to get the three quorum members who didn’t attend regularly to come to some activities, and one of them has attended church.
“I tried to visit the others and invite them to come to church,” Isaac says. “That was my duty to God.”
Perched on top of a long-unused cannon, Michael can easily imagine defending the fort against the fierce attack of an enemy. But as he looks out to sea, he talks about strengthening himself against a different kind of attack—one without cannons and gunpowder.
“My friends at school sometimes make fun of me for belonging to the ‘church of Mormon,’” he says as the sun sets on Portobelo. But he’s not afraid to tell them, “I belong to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.”

A true story from the USA.
“Why don’t we go to church anymore?”
Sadie had asked her parents this question several times. Usually her mom just shook her head and looked almost as sad as Sadie felt. “There are a lot of reasons,” she would say at last. Sadie didn’t understand.
Just before her family had stopped going to church, her parents had let her be baptized. Sadie was happy about that, but she wished her parents would take her to church even if they didn’t want to stay. She really missed going to Primary.
Her family still did fun things together. In the fall, they hiked in the mountains. They had picnics at the park and played frisbee. They went to the play her older brother was in.
In December she and her family took plates of treats to friends and neighbors. They decorated the Christmas tree together. They spent a Saturday sledding in the snow and came home for hot chocolate and homemade donuts.
Sadie liked doing these things, but she missed going to church more than ever. She missed singing Christmas hymns and listening to talks about the birth of Jesus Christ.
This year Christmas was on Sunday. Her friend told her that the Primary was singing in sacrament meeting on Christmas morning. Sadie loved to sing.
“Can we go to church just this Sunday?” Sadie asked her parents. “Please? The Primary is singing, and I want to be there.”
Her parents looked at each other, then back at Sadie. “I’m sorry,” Dad said, “but we can’t. Not this year.”
Sadie held onto the hope that her family might go back to church someday, but that didn’t help her this Christmas.
On Christmas morning, Sadie felt the familiar excitement of gathering around the Christmas tree and opening presents with her family. She thought about how much she loved her parents and big brother and knew that they loved her.
Mom made their favorite breakfast—chocolate-chip pancakes piled high with whipped cream. "Best breakfast ever," her brother said after having two full plates. Everyone agreed.
After she helped clean up, Sadie went to her room. She thought about the Primary children singing in church and did her best not to be sad that she wasn’t there.
Sadie looked around her room for something to do. Her eyes landed on a box of colored pencils. Suddenly she had an idea. Even if she couldn’t go to church right now, maybe she could still bring Jesus into her day.
She found a piece of paper and started drawing a picture of the Nativity scene—baby Jesus in the manger, Mary and Joseph watching over him, and shepherds gathered around them all. She sang “Away in a Manger” to herself as she drew.
When she finished her picture, she took it to the kitchen and used a magnet to put it on the refrigerator door. Her parents and older brother didn’t say anything, but they did smile.
Sadie felt good. She couldn’t change how her family felt about going to church. But she could still keep Christ and Christmas in her heart.

Just three months after James Boyd Martino joined the Church in 1968, a friend invited him to meet with a minister of another faith. The minister bombarded him with questions, only a few of which he could answer.
Although the experience shook him, 17-year-old James didn’t let the minister deter him—or his commitment to the Church. Rather, he says, “my testimony then was like a prescription medicine that has to be shaken to be effective. The experience motivated me to study the gospel and grow in my faith.”
Elder Martino, recently called as a member of the Second Quorum of the Seventy, says that studying the gospel has blessed him ever since that time.