Gospel Story Finder

Recently one summer I traveled with my family to the East Coast to visit Palmyra, New York. Ever since I was little, I loved listening to the story of Joseph Smith. My family and I went through the visitors’ center near the Hill Cumorah, Grandin’s Print Shop in Palmyra, the Sacred Grove, and the Smith homes. We watched a video about Joseph Smith and the First Vision. While watching, I felt the Spirit telling me that the Church was indeed true. I more strongly came to realize that when Joseph prayed in the Sacred Grove, he wasn’t the prophet yet. He was just a farm boy who knew nothing about talking with angels or the writings of the inhabitants of ancient America. If more people only knew that Joseph Smith started as a confused person in this world, then maybe they would understand the power of the First Vision and Joseph’s seed of faith that turned into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I know that these things are true and that with faith like that of Joseph Smith, we can receive powerful revelation and answers to our prayers. If we just “ask of God … it shall be given [us]” (James 1:5). I love the gospel, and I love the story of Joseph Smith, who had the courage to ask a simple question.

I preached a sermon down in Quitman, Georgia, on the eternal duration of the marriage covenant and the family unit. At the end of the meeting I stood at the door, and a man came up and introduced himself as a minister of the gospel. Since I had quoted what the major churches had to say about that principle, and not one of them believed in the eternal duration of the marriage covenant and the family unit, I said to this minister: “Did I misquote you tonight?”

“No, Mr. Richards, but it is just like you say, we don’t believe all the things our churches teach.”

I said, “You don’t believe them either.”

Then I said, “Why don’t you go back and teach your people the truth. They will take it from you, but they are not ready to take it from the Mormon elders yet.”

He said, “I will see you again,” and that was all I could get out of him that night.

The next time I went there, about four months later, he was standing out in front of the church. We shook hands. I said, “I would certainly be interested to know what you thought of my last sermon here.”

He said, “Mr. Richards, I have been thinking about it ever since. I believe every word you said, only I would like to have heard the rest of it.”

Here was a man occupying a pulpit in his own church who believed every word I said, and yet he couldn’t teach it to his people.

Back home, he attended George Washington University, studying mechanical engineering and playing clarinet and saxophone in a jazz band. As he neared university graduation, all of his career plans seemed to be on schedule. But then “the Lord placed a bombshell in my little world: Jeanene Watkins.” A vivacious young woman, Jeanene was the daughter of Utah’s Senator Arthur V. Watkins.
Their developing relationship presented a problem for Richard’s carefully laid career plans. One night Jeanene said to him, “When I marry, it will be in the temple to a returned missionary.” He had not thought much about a mission, but with that motivation, he prayed harder than ever before and ended up talking to the bishop about it. Soon after graduation, he left for a mission to Uruguay. Jeanene graduated the following June in sociology and left the next day for a mission to the northwestern states. Soon after they returned home, they were married in the Manti Temple.

For an entire year Brother Assard fruitlessly sought employment. The strain of providing for his family weighed heavily upon him. He did not, however, let the difficulty of finding a job prevent him from moving the work of the Lord forward. He and Sister Assard sent letters to members on the list they had received in Germany. The Lucien Affoué family of Abidjan was the first to respond. Both families rejoiced to know they were not alone. Other members in Ivory Coast also responded but were too remote to meet with them.
As Lucien Affoué traveled with his family to Lyon, France, to study industrial arts, he had no idea the most important education he would receive there would be spiritual. Lucien; his wife, Agathe; and their two daughters embraced the gospel soon after full-time missionaries knocked on their door in 1980. The Bordeaux Branch welcomed the family into the Church, and after proving faithful, the Affoués and their daughters were sealed in the Swiss Temple.
When they returned to Ivory Coast in 1984, the Affoués, now with an infant son, were disappointed not to find any other Church members. Nevertheless, they diligently held meetings in their home, praying for the fellowship of another Latter-day Saint family.
Despite their difficult economic situation, the Affoués rejoiced in April 1986 when they received a letter from the Assards. The two families soon began holding joint Sunday meetings in the Assards’ backyard. As they worked, worshiped, and prayed together for employment, the families grew close and strengthened each other spiritually. Sister Affoué and Sister Assard became as close as sisters.
The Affoués had their prayers answered when Brother Affoué found a teaching job in Bouaké, the nation’s second largest city, located approximately 370 kilometers northwest of Abidjan. They had to leave the growing Church group in Abidjan. But with strengthened testimonies and faith, the Affoués helped establish the Church in Bouaké in 1988. There the family spread the gospel, eventually receiving welcome help from a missionary couple assigned to the area.
Brother Affoué served as branch president for four years, then continued as branch president after the branch was divided. Today he serves as a counselor to the mission president. Sister Affoué served as Relief Society president, while the children taught classes and helped out their small branch in other ways.
The Church’s first chapel in Ivory Coast was dedicated in April 1997, a decade after the country was dedicated for the preaching of the gospel and shortly before the creation of the country’s first stake. A chapel of their own represents a milestone for Ivorian Latter-day Saints, including the Affoués and the Assards, who have longed for a chapel in their native land since the two families first met under a tree in their home village 11 years ago.

In Blackfoot, Idaho, Laurels in the Fifth Ward started from scratch—literally, for that’s what happens when you work with freshly sheared, washed, and dried lamb’s wool! Then came a whole summer of carding the wool, and with only one carder. But the resulting batting was light and fluffy. These Laurels also decided red, white, and blue were the appropriate colors for this year. Since they had a special recipient for their quilt in mind, they added illustrations depicting Young Women’s six areas of awareness—spiritual, cultural, social, service, recreational, and homemaking activities. The quilt was tied with lazy daisy, blue-yarn stitches, and each girl added her name in a corner. Then the whole activity was sewed up with a trip to Salt Lake and a visit with the quilt’s new owner—President Spencer W. Kimball.

“What do you want to play next?” Tyler asked Jonathan. “I don’t know. What other toys do you have?” Even though they were best friends in the second grade, this was the first time Jonathan had come over to play at Tyler’s house.
“Let’s see,” Tyler said. “We already jumped on the trampoline. We played digging for dinosaurs. We put the space shuttle set together three times. Those are all my favorites.”
“Do you have any new games?” Jonathan asked.
“No, but I just had an idea. I have something to show you that I bet you’ve never seen.” Jonathan followed Tyler into the family room. Tyler got out an envelope and a big square board covered with fuzzy flannel.
“Look at this,” Tyler said. He turned the envelope upside down and a bunch of pictures fell out onto the floor. “I’ve been practicing my lesson for family home evening tonight. I’m going to tell the story of Joseph Smith just like the missionaries do. Want to hear it?”
“Hold on,” Jonathan said. “What’s family home evening, and who’s Joseph Smith?”
“Family home evening is when our family gets together every Monday night. We do lessons, play games, sing songs, and stuff like that. And we always have treats at the end. Anyway, it’s my turn to give the lesson. It’s all about Joseph Smith. Want to hear it?”
Jonathan shrugged. “OK.”
“Good. It starts off when Joseph was a teenager.” Tyler put a picture on the flannel board of a boy dressed in old-fashioned clothes. “He wanted to know which church was true. He was reading in the Bible where it says that if you have a question, you should ask God. Joseph Smith decided to pray and ask God which church he should join.”
“Is this a Bible story?” Jonathan asked.
“Well, not really.” Tyler took the boy’s picture off the flannel board and put on a picture of some trees. Then he got out another picture of the boy, only this time the boy was kneeling. “This is the good part. Joseph Smith went into the woods where he could be alone to pray. When he prayed, he asked God his question about which church was true.”
Tyler put another picture above the Joseph picture on the flannel board. This one showed Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ, all dressed in white. “God and Jesus came down and told Joseph Smith not to join any of the churches. They told him that the true church was not on the earth. Later, when Joseph Smith was older, he was able to help bring the true Church back to the earth. He was a true prophet.”
Tyler stopped and looked at Jonathan. Jonathan was staring at the pictures but not saying much. Finally Tyler asked, “What do you think?”
“Well, I don’t know,” Jonathan said. “The only prophets I’ve ever heard about are from Bible stories. Are you sure Joseph Smith was a prophet?”
“Sure, I’m sure.”
“But how do you know? I mean, if it’s not in the Bible, how do you know?”
Tyler hesitated. He knew that Joseph Smith was a prophet, but how could he explain it to Jonathan? “I just know,” he said.
Jonathan still had a frown on his face, and Tyler had a feeling that there was something else he should say. Then he knew what it was. “I know because I have a testimony.”
“Oh,” was all Jonathan said.
Tyler began putting the pictures back into the envelope.
Just then, Tyler’s mom poked her head around the corner. “How about a snack?” she said. “There are cookies in the kitchen.”
Tyler and Jonathan told each other jokes while they licked the frosting from the middle of their cookies. By the time they munched down the chocolate outside parts of the cookies, Jonathan’s mom had come to pick him up. He went outside to look for his shoes next to the trampoline. Tyler went with him.
While Jonathan was tying his shoes, he looked up at Tyler. “You know that story you told me? It was good. I mean, it’s good about your testimony and all.”
Before Tyler could answer, Jonathan had jumped up and was running through the gate out to the car. “See you tomorrow!” he called over his shoulder.
“Yeah, see you tomorrow,” Tyler called back.

“Can we come in?” Lori asked.
Emily looked over the top of the fort she had built with Lisa. Their little sister Lori and brother Greg were back, and they wanted to come in. Again.
“No,” Emily said.
“Please?” Greg asked.
“No,” Lisa repeated.
Emily and Lisa had spent an hour building their fort out of cushions and sheets and cardboard boxes. It was perfect. They had built it next to the Ping-Pong table, and to get in you had to crawl through a tunnel under the table. It was tall enough to stand up in, but there wasn’t enough room for little brothers and sisters.
“You already have your own fort,” Emily said.
“OK,” Lori sighed. “Let’s go.” Greg followed her back to their fort. It was just a blanket draped over a chair. It didn’t have a tunnel or anything.
“They’re gone!” Lisa said. “Now we can play.” She opened their box of paper dolls. Emily cut out a dress she had drawn. They set up the rest of their game—the castle, the servants’ quarters, the wicked prince.
They played for a while, but it wasn’t as fun as usual.
“I’m bored,” Lisa said, setting down her paper doll.
“And I don’t want to be the prince anymore,” Emily said. “Maybe we need more people to play. Maybe Lori and Greg could help.”
“No,” Lisa said. “They’ll just ruin the clothes, and they won’t play the games we want them to.”
“Yeah. I guess I’m done playing this game. Let’s do something else.”
“Let’s build a tree fort!” Lisa said.
Outside, Emily and Lisa dragged boards over to the giant cherry tree. They made a platform they could sit on in the middle of the tree. It was perfect. They could reach ripe cherries right where they sat!
Soon they heard the back door open. Here came Lori and Greg. Their eyes got big when they saw the fort.
“Can we come up?” Lori asked.
“Can we have some cherries?” Greg asked.
“No,” Emily said. “Get your own cherries.”
Lisa looked at Emily, then nodded. “Go play in your own fort.”
“But our fort’s no fun!” Lori wailed. “It’s no fun without you!” Lori ran back to the house, and Greg followed.
Lisa was quiet after they left. She ate another cherry. “Maybe we should have let them come up,” she said.
Emily nodded. “We weren’t very nice,” she said quietly.
“What do you think we should do?”
“I have an idea …” Emily said.
Soon Lisa and Emily sneaked back to their old fort, where Lori and Greg were playing. They left a note outside the tunnel door, knocked, then ran outside. Lori read the note out loud: “We’re sorry we were so mean. We want to play with you too. Love, Lisa and Emily.”
“They want to play with us!” Greg shouted. He pushed open the tunnel door and raced outside. Lori followed. This time Lisa and Emily let them climb up. They all crowded onto the small platform and ate cherries.
“We were thinking we should build a town,” Emily said. “I’ll run the store and be the seamstress.”
“I’ll write the newspaper,” Lisa said, “and Greg can be the postman. And the mayor.”
“What will I be?” Lori asked.
“You can run the store with me,” Emily said.
They all climbed down and ran back to the playroom. Lisa and Lori cut out cardboard coins while Emily and Greg took down the giant fort. They would need the cushions and boxes to build the post office and the grocery store and their houses. And later, maybe even a zoo.

The youth of the Rockwood Ward of the Gresham Oregon Stake demonstrated that sort of involvement by organizing a different type of missionary activity within the boundaries of their own ward—a missionary weekend.

“They weren’t called to a teaching mission,” said stake mission leader Greg Meacham. “That’s the full-time missionaries’ job. But they were asked to help the missionaries by finding people who seemed genuinely interested in the gospel.”

A group of about 20 young men and women arrived at the stake center at 6:30 P.M. on a Friday night. They were assigned to a “partner” rather than a companion, to a “mission home” (a member’s house where they would spend the night), and to one of the “zones” the ward had been divided into, where they would concentrate their efforts the next day.

All participants were given a list of “mission rules,” which included instructions like “Never leave your partner. Do not accept car rides without prior approval. Avoid shopping malls and stores. Avoid all contention and compromising situations,” and many other regulations.

A training session Friday night included a description of missionary life and suggestions about how to be courteous when calling at someone’s home. It was followed by a “partner study session” prior to lights out at 10:30.

Saturday morning began with “partner scripture study” and prayers, followed by breakfast. Then, with permission from President Larsen, full-time missionaries from nearby areas joined the youth to go door to door, talking about the Church with neighbors who might not have otherwise heard about it. The missionaries usually took two or more teenagers with them, especially when the teenagers were young or inexperienced. Only full-time missionaries were allowed to do any teaching, and they decided whether or not to accept an invitation to enter someone’s home.

“We had one of the older sister missionaries with us, and she was able to answer a lot of questions for people,” said Cathy Spencer, 14. “Even though she’s a grandmother, she was as excited as we were.”

“We handed out copies of A Marvelous Work and a Wonder,” said Susan Spencer, 17.

“We wanted to get everyone in the community talking about it,” her friend Amy Lyles, 18, added. “In one day, my partner and I found ten families who accepted a book and said they would read it. I was surprised at how many people listened to what we had to say.”

Aaron Miller, 13, the deacons quorum president, and Jay Fabian, 13, his first counselor, also participated in the weekend activity.

Aaron found out quickly that the missionaries were in earnest. “They wouldn’t let you goof around at all. They made you go to every door, even if it looked like no one was home.”

Jay said, “At first it was hard. But then once you got started, it got better. I felt real good when somebody took a book and said they’d read it.” With the help of one full-time missionary, the two young men distributed 11 books.

Doug Miller, the ward mission leader, felt the youth missionary weekend was a bona fide success. “The local missionaries increased their investigator pool threefold. One sister has since been baptized, and an inactive brother reactivated as a result of what the young people did that day.”

“The missionary weekend idea started with the Second Ward. Then this ward did it, and now we’re thinking of implementing it on a stake basis,” Brother Meacham said.

Priest group leaders and Laurel class presidents zeroed in on stewardship and the principle of “serving the one” when they met in a leadership conference at Waterton Lakes National Park, Canada.
The priests and Laurels met for films, special talks, and seminars conducted by local youth leaders in the Waterton chapel.
The leaders picked up pointers on organizing service and recreational activities and shared ideas about activating nonattending friends. The leadership weekend came to a close with a testimony meeting, and participants returned to their individual wards eager to go to work.

Another Mormon boy was sent east to an officers training school. A new commanding officer came into the camp, and they put on a banquet to honor him. There, by every plate, was a cocktail glass. When the proper time came, every one of those potential officers stood up with his cocktail glass to toast that incoming officer. All but one boy, and he raised a glass of milk. It would take a lot of courage, wouldn’t you think, to stand there with all those officers, and see all of those cocktail glasses come up, and stand and raise a glass of milk!
Well, the officer saw it. He made a beeline for that boy after the entertainment was over, and he said, “Why did you toast me with a glass of milk?”
“Well, officer,” he said, “I’ve never touched liquor in my life. I don’t want to touch it; my parents wouldn’t want me to touch it; and I didn’t think you would want me to either. And I wanted to toast you, so I thought you would be satisfied if I toasted you with what I am accustomed to drinking.”
The officer said, “You report at headquarters in the morning,” and told him what time.
I suppose that boy spent a sleepless night, but when he went into the officer’s quarters the next morning, you know what happened? The officer assigned him a place on his staff with this explanation: “I want to surround myself with men who have the courage to do what they think is right regardless of what anybody else thinks about it.” Isn’t that wonderful! He was an uncommon boy, wasn’t he? I hope you are all uncommon. I hope that if you are ever in a situation like that you will make the proper decision.

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

When we left our home in Korea last fall, many of our brothers and sisters came to KimPo Airport to say good-bye to us. Four of our children were also among the people, half lost and half crying. They were so proud of their parents. On that particular day, my wife and I stood on the side of the departure lounge away from the area where we normally stood, where we had seen our guests off.
KimPo Airport—I know that place very well. I have gone there numerous times, primarily to bring visitors in and to accompany guests out. Each time I visited KimPo Airport I would say to myself or to my wife: “Not me! Never! I will do their errands for them. I will drive for them and translate for them and all the rest. But no, sir! I will stay home and be a good Gospel Doctrine class teacher in Sunday School!” Thus, the Lord heard my selfish whispering.
Elder Maxwell, you taught us about the reality of the costs of discipleship. Further, you said, “They can be paid neither at wholesale rates nor in one lump sum” (Men and Women of Christ [Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1991], p. 24).
I had to learn the lesson very quickly, and I am grateful for the counsel and encouragement of the message.
We are now living in Tokyo, Japan. Only the Lord knows why. In Tokyo we have to learn everything all over again, including the new meaning of life. We have to learn the language, the culture, the system of the society, how to commute from one place to another; and, importantly, we are learning about the people and how to love these people.
In the book of Mark we read, “Whosoever will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me” (Mark 8:34).
Bearing this cross is not easy, but it will not be too difficult because God lives and He loves us.
I meet many “tired leaders” here and there in our area. I hug them and tell them I love them because I have a strong testimony of the living God and His great love.
To me, the love of God means going out to the people and doing something good for them and helping them until they change their old ways of living and come to Heavenly Father, happily.
Only the love of God will cure many diseases and problems of the world, including the disease of inactivity in the Church.
May that love of God bring peace in your homes. I love you, and kam sa ham ni ta! I know that God, our Heavenly Father, lives and that Jesus Christ is our Savior. Joseph Smith was a true prophet of the Lord in this dispensation.
In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Topher had looked forward all year to his fifth-grade trip to the Black Hills and Badlands in South Dakota, USA. He had saved his allowance and lawn-mowing money to pay for the trip all by himself.
The morning of the trip, Topher and his family knelt by the sofa to pray. Dad said the prayer and asked Heavenly Father to watch over Topher while he was away. Then Mom drove Topher to the school to join the rest of his class.
The bus ride was fun. Everyone sang silly songs, told stories, and made plans for what they would do when they got to their campground. At lunchtime they stopped for a picnic.
“This is the best trip ever,” Topher told his friend Alex while they ate their sack lunches. “I can’t wait to see Mount Rushmore.” All school year Topher’s class had studied the places they would visit, like the Badlands, the memorial at Mount Rushmore, and even a real gold mine. They would stay at a campground, sleep in tents, and cook their food over a fire.
“Yeah,” Alex said, but he didn’t sound very happy. “My stomach feels funny,” he whispered and pressed his hand over his stomach. His face looked kind of pale.
“Want me to tell a teacher?” Topher asked.
“No. I’ll be OK.”
Topher finished his sandwich, but Alex hardly ate anything. After lunch everyone went back to the bus.
One by one, Topher’s classmates started getting sick. Even some of the teachers and parent chaperones got sick.
By the time they got to the campground, Topher felt sick too. He managed to eat some dinner, but he quickly threw it up. He wished he were home. His parents would know how to help him feel better. Mom would make soup for him, and Dad would give him a priesthood blessing.
That gave Topher an idea.
Brother Turner, from Topher’s ward, was one of the chaperones. Topher went and found him by the campfire. “Brother Turner,” Topher asked quietly, “would you give me a blessing?”
Brother Turner looked sick too, but he managed a weak smile. “I’d be happy to give you a blessing, Topher.”
Together Brother Turner and Topher found a quiet spot nearby. Brother Turner laid his hands on Topher’s head. He paused before beginning, then gave a blessing. He asked Heavenly Father to help Topher feel better.
Topher felt peaceful as Brother Turner finished the blessing. Although he was still sick, he started to feel a little better. He found Alex and offered to get him some water.
“Thanks,” Alex said.
The next morning back on the bus, everyone was quiet. Topher thought about the blessing Brother Turner had given him. Next year Topher would turn 12 and would be ordained to the Aaronic Priesthood. He promised himself that he would be worthy to receive it and to receive the Melchizedek Priesthood when he was older. He wanted to be able to help others just like Brother Turner had helped him.

Much missionary work will be brought about by the Hong Kong Temple. Family, friends neighbors, and co-workers ask members about the majestic granite building that bears the name of their church.
Indeed, much was accomplished even while the temple was being built. “Initially the construction workers had no concept of this project,” observes Carl Champagnie, assistant project manager. “It was just a job to them. But as the building progressed, we saw the attitude of the workers change. They knew this was a building they could be proud of.”
Hong Kong Mission President John Aki says that a few workers even started investigating the Church, partly as a result of a luncheon for the construction workers hosted by young men and young women from the Hong Kong Kowloon East Stake. “Those men were impressed by the feelings they felt,” President Aki reports. “They knew the temple was a building of importance.”

Scott first saw Nicole play in the film adaptation of Rob Gardner’s musical production, Lamb of God, where, through her cello, she stunningly represented the voice of Christ. Following a prompting that spoke to his heart, Scott reached out to her via social media.

“I feel that Heavenly Father truly opened a door for me through Nicole’s incredible talent, generosity and connections,” Scott recalls. “I am so grateful that she had the heart to be willing to listen to my music.”

Nicole introduced Scott to Casey Elliot, and Scott reached out to Savannah Stevenson, also via social media, after seeing her perform on a Brigham Young University programme. Savannah sang the solo for, “Bring on Tomorrow,’ and in the duet, ‘I See the Christ’ with Casey.

When filming for the demo video was complete, shortly after returning to Australia, Scott suffered a brain aneurysm and extensive bleed in the frontal lobe of his brain. An emergency surgery preserved his life and thankfully—miraculously—he was able to continue with his music.
That same year in May, he remotely directed the recordings of two more of his songs, connecting by Zoom in to Salt Lake City’s Funk Studios.

“I am eternally grateful to Heavenly Father and the amazing surgeons for saving my life, and for my wife, Jo, for gently pushing me on this musical journey for nearly 15 years,” says Scott.

He is equally grateful for his parents, Nanette and Frank, who nurtured his musical talent from childhood. Shortly before Scott’s mother passed away in 2020, he promised her he would continue writing music, and so he has.

“Having a close call with death causes one to refocus one’s priorities in life. For me they are faith and family, and of course more faith-promoting music,” says Scott.

He is now orchestrating and preparing for the launch of his long-awaited musical, One Spring Morn. With a premiere expected in 2025—exactly 205 years since the First Vision of Joseph Smith—its story will explore the experiences of Joseph and Emma Smith, their feelings of faith and devotion to their Saviour, Jesus Christ, and their gratitude for His tender mercies.
Look out for a preview concert based on this musical in Melbourne, Australia, in June.

One young convert named Fernando was inactive in his own church, but he had great faith in Jesus Christ. He sought out many churches and talked to many ministers but he could not find a church that could answer his most important questions, or fulfill his deepest needs. He finally became disillusioned with organized religions and stopped looking. Then one day he happened to see two sister missionaries teaching with a street board. The board featured a painting of Christ ordaining his apostles. Fernando, who was an amateur artist, liked the painting. The sister missionaries told him they had more paintings like that. They invited him to come to church and see them.

He came. It was testimony meeting, and he was touched by the testimonies, especially that of one sister who had just received her patriarchal blessing. “She bore a testimony of great love,” he later remembered.

He began receiving the discussions. “When I first started studying, I wanted to argue with the elders. I decided I would listen to their whole message, and then refute it all at once. But when I had heard their message, I found that my arguments were destroyed in advance. It really could be true, and if it was true, it was important. If God had really restored his church, then I had to be a part of it. They taught me many things that were hard, many things that would require a great sacrifice compared to the life I was then living. But if it was true, it didn’t matter how hard it was! I had a peaceful feeling about the message I had received. It was all true.”

But those hard things loomed larger and larger as baptism approached, and there were friends to scoff and problems to discourage Fernando. For a time he withdrew from his investigation and his contacts with the Church, even though he knew in his heart it was all true. One rainy night during that time of low spirits and temptation, he went to see a friend off on the train.

He helped her on with her bags and was saying good-bye when he felt the train begin to move. He ran to the door, but it was too late. Santiago de Compostela was rushing past him at a speed that made jumping suicidal.

He got off at the first stop—a dark, deserted station house without a human dwelling anywhere in sight. He walked many kilometers through a cold rain, totally soaked, up a mountain road and into a village. There he found a phone booth, the only shelter available. He entered the booth and phoned a friend who would have to walk many blocks to inform his parents of his plight. Then he took off most of his soaked clothing and stood shivering through the night. Since he had absolutely nothing else to do to pass the long hours, he began thinking seriously about the gospel. “I didn’t know what else to do, so I said a prayer, even though I was afraid I wasn’t worthy of an answer. I had tried to separate myself as far as I could from the Lord and his people.”

He spent the rest of the night praying, thinking, and reading from a small New Testament that he happened to have in his pocket. “During that time, my testimony returned to me. I felt dry and warm even though I was wet. Whenever I prayed for comfort, comfort came to me. The words came to me ‘All is well. Do not worry.’ But I’m afraid my rebelliousness made me unwilling to accept the answer. I asked again and again, although I knew I had already been answered. Then there was a sudden peal of thunder in the night. I had seen no lightning, nor had there been any thunder in the storm before. I felt it was a message; I was being told, ‘Be quiet. You already know the answer to your question.’

“I know that not everybody needs a clap of thunder, because some people are better listeners than I was. I know that a quiet sense of peace is just as meaningful an answer to prayer, but the Lord knew that I needed a night alone in a phone booth and a clap of thunder, and that’s just what he gave me. Every person receives the testimony he needs if he asks sincerely.”

Fernando finally got out of the phone booth, got home again, and dried off, but not long thereafter he was once more soaking wet as he rose from the waters of baptism. But he felt warm, as he had in the phone booth, and this time he knew he was truly at home.

“Baptism wasn’t the end but the entrance,” Fernando says. “I want much more. I was 15 when I was converted. Since then I have had more love for everyone—my father, my mother, my friends, everyone!

“At first I was afraid that my friends would laugh at me when they found out I was LDS, and some of them did. My best friend rejected me. My whole family was angry with me. But I am not ashamed of the gospel. I make sure everyone knows I am a Mormon. I give them copies of the Book of Mormon and bear my testimony. The blessings are much greater than the pain of rejection. Whenever I have a problem, I pray, and it is like plugging in an electric plug. The Lord may not solve the problem for me, but he lets me know what I need to do to solve it for myself, and that’s all I ask.

“I have a testimony that I won’t let be broken. This is the true Church, and I mean to magnify my callings. I am excited about fulfilling a proselyting mission as well as my larger mission in life. I will soon receive the Melchizedek Priesthood, and I feel very inadequate. I know that it is a solemn obligation to accept the greatest power on earth. I hope I won’t ever fail to honor it.”

Odds are there were probably a few of you who didn’t smile at all, and it makes me wonder why. Ask yourself, “Am I really a happy person?” If you are not and if it is difficult for you to smile, then analyze yourself. Know there is help available. Some of it can come from recognizing that difficulties are part of life. There are ups and there are downs. That fact reminds me of this little account shared by Elder Marion D. Hanks:
“A father [is] aboard an airplane on a short business trip. He has with him his five-year-old son and is almost wishing his son were not there because it is a very rough trip. There are downdrafts and updrafts and head winds alternating with tailwinds, and some passengers are feeling a bit queasy. Apprehensively, the father glances at his son and finds him grinning from ear to ear. ‘Dad,’ he says, ‘do they do this just to make it fun for the kids?’” (“Changing Channels,” Ensign, November 1990, 38).

I came home from my mission mistakenly feeling that I could check patience off my list of lessons to learn. The thing about patience, though, is that it’s not a lesson we learn only once. Elder Neal A. Maxwell (1926–2004) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles gave a talk on patience, and I read it for the first time after a rather discouraging breakup with someone I had been dating. I was feeling heartbroken and a little hopeless, and at that point, the last thing I thought I needed was a reminder to be patient. Surprisingly, though, Elder Maxwell’s insights on patience taught me some powerful concepts that totally changed my perspective (once again) and helped me recommit to patience.
For example, I learned that committing to patience doesn’t mean we shrug our shoulders and give up hope. Elder Maxwell taught: “Patience is not indifference. Actually, it means caring very much but being willing, nevertheless, to submit to the Lord and to what the scriptures call the ‘process of time.’”1 I had always thought of patience as a somewhat passive response to life’s experiences, a sort of relenting. But patience is not relenting. Patience is a manifestation of inner strength and devotion to the Lord.
Elder Maxwell also taught: “Patience is a willingness, in a sense, to watch the unfolding purposes of God with a sense of wonder and awe, rather than pacing up and down within the cell of our circumstance. Put another way, too much anxious opening of the oven door and the cake falls instead of rising. So it is with us. If we are always selfishly taking our temperature to see if we are happy, we will not be.”2 This idea really resonated with me (and not just because I am an impatient baker). It’s discouraging when plans fall through or don’t pan out as expected. To our mortal minds, divine timing can be hard to understand. But what I can understand is that God is a loving Father who has a plan that guarantees eventual happiness if we are faithful, and I am learning to accept His timing with confidence—not with anxiousness.
Because patience tests us at a very personal level, our focus is often inward. But Elder Maxwell taught that “patience also helps us to realize that while we may be ready to move on, having had enough of a particular learning experience, our continued presence is often needed as a part of the learning environment of others.”3 Not only do we need patience, but others also need our patience or the example of our patience. This idea had never dawned on me, and it helped me to view patience as a noble quality, very closely tied to charity, the pure love of Christ, which “never faileth” (Moroni 7:46).

In the book Daughters in My Kingdom, we read about Sister Hedwig Biereichel, a woman in Germany who suffered much sorrow and deprivation during World War II. Because of her love and charitable nature, and even in her own great need, she willingly shared her food with starving prisoners of war. Later, when asked how she was able to “keep a testimony during all [those] trials,” she replied in effect, “I didn’t keep a testimony through those times—the testimony kept me.”

On 1 October 2011, President Thomas S. Monson (1927-2018) announced that the 163rd temple in the world would be built in Kinshasa, DRC. President Brent Jameson, Kinshasa mission president at the time, shares this recollection:
“Every six weeks, we traveled to outlying units of the church. In Pointe Noire we were greeted by the branch president who indicated there were a few members who needed temple recommends and that they were all lined up in the hall. There were 16 people waiting to renew or obtain recommends! This same experience was replicated everywhere we visited. At great sacrifice financially, with hours of travel, and for no other reason than to renew or obtain recommends, they had come. These members understood the importance of having a current recommend. They knew it showed the Lord how serious they were about living the gospel and how important their covenants were to them. They knew that they may or may not ever get to the temple, but they wanted to be ready to enter and make their covenants whenever the opportunity arrived. Their recommends meant something important to them and to the Lord.”