Gospel Story Finder

When I finished telling this story in the Sunday School class, a member who had recently returned from his mission asked me where I had served.

“In the Japan Sapporo Mission,” I answered.

“Was it in Asahikawa that you helped this child?” he asked.

“Yes,” I answered.

Then he said, “The child in your story was baptized by my companion. One week after the baptism, I was transferred to Asahikawa and I met him. He mentioned that a missionary had saved him from drowning in a river.”

The Lord guides us in miraculous ways. It was not mere chance that my companion felt inspired to work in a distant area that afternoon despite his difficulty with walking or that we walked along the river at just the right moment.

Now the young man who was saved wants to be a missionary, just like the one who saved him. I thought I had completed my mission 14 years ago, but when this young man goes on a mission, in a sense my mission will continue.

In the words of a well-known song, I wish you could “come fly with me” to eastern Germany, where I visited many times. Not long ago, as I traveled along the autobahns, I reflected on a time almost 35 years before when I saw on the same autobahns just trucks carrying armed soldiers and policemen. Barking dogs everywhere strained on their leashes, and informers walked the streets. Back then, the flame of freedom had flickered and burned low. A wall of shame sprang up, and a curtain of iron came down. Hope was all but snuffed out. Life, precious life, continued on in faith, nothing wavering. Patient waiting was required. An abiding trust in God marked the life of each Latter-day Saint.
When I made my initial visit beyond the wall, it was a time of fear on the part of our members as they struggled in the performance of their duties. I found the dullness of despair on the faces of many passersby but a bright and beautiful expression of love emanating from our members. In Görlitz the building in which we met was shell-pocked from the war, but the interior reflected the tender care of our leaders in bringing brightness and cleanliness to an otherwise shabby and grimy structure. The Church had survived both a world war and the cold war which followed. The singing of the Saints brightened every soul. They sang the old Sunday School favorite:
If the way be full of trial; Weary not!
If it’s one of sore denial, Weary not!
If it now be one of weeping,
There will come a joyous greeting,
When the harvest we are reaping—Weary not!
Do not weary by the way,
Whatever be thy lot;
There awaits a brighter day
To all, to all who weary not!
I was touched by their sincerity. I was humbled by their poverty. They had so little. My heart filled with sorrow because they had no patriarch. They had no wards or stakes—just branches. They could not receive temple blessings—neither endowment nor sealing. No official visitor had come from Church headquarters in a long time. The members were forbidden to leave the country. Yet they trusted in the Lord with all their hearts, and they leaned not to their own understanding. In all their ways they acknowledged Him, and He directed their paths. I stood at the pulpit, and with tear-filled eyes and a voice choked with emotion, I made a promise to the people: “If you will remain true and faithful to the commandments of God, every blessing any member of the Church enjoys in any other country will be yours.”
That night as I realized what I had promised, I dropped to my knees and prayed: “Heavenly Father, I’m on Thy errand; this is Thy Church. I have spoken words that came not from me, but from Thee and Thy Son. Wilt Thou, therefore, fulfill the promise in the lives of this noble people.” There coursed through my mind the words from the psalm, “Be still, and know that I am God.” The heavenly virtue of patience was required.
Little by little the promise was fulfilled. First, patriarchs were ordained, then lesson manuals produced. Wards were formed and stakes created. Chapels and stake centers were begun, completed, and dedicated. Then, miracle of miracles, a holy temple of God was permitted, designed, constructed, and dedicated. Finally, after an absence of 50 years, approval was granted for full-time missionaries to enter the nation and for local youth to serve elsewhere in the world. Then, like the wall of Jericho, the Berlin Wall crumbled, and freedom, with its attendant responsibilities, returned.
All of the parts of the precious promise of almost 35 years earlier were fulfilled, save one. Tiny Görlitz, where the promise had been given, still had no chapel of its own. Now, even that dream became a reality. The building was approved and completed. Dedication day dawned. Sister Monson and I, along with Elder and Sister Dieter Uchtdorf, held a meeting of dedication in Görlitz. The same songs were sung as were rendered all those years earlier. The members knew the significance of the occasion, marking the total fulfillment of the promise. They wept as they sang. The song of the righteous was indeed a prayer unto the Lord and had been answered with a blessing upon their heads.
At the conclusion of the meeting we were reluctant to leave. As we did so, seen were the waving hands of all, heard were the words, “Auf Wiedersehen, auf Wiedersehen; God be with you till we meet again.”

For a few months before my mission, I lived with my brother and his family in Calgary, Alberta, Canada. After moving in with them, I found a job working with a crew framing houses.
My first day on the job, my boss dropped me off at the work site and introduced me to my supervisor. Soon I was on the roof of the garage learning how to “sheet” that part of the roof. As I looked on, I noticed that my supervisor might be in danger. He had placed a piece of sheeting down on the framework and had fastened one side. The other side was to be cut off with a Skil saw so the sheeting would fit in place.
As he was cutting, I noticed he was standing on the side that wasn’t fastened. If he continued to cut, he would end up “surfing” off the roof on a piece of sheeting. I kept silent, rationalizing to myself. Since this was my first day, what did I know? He probably knew what he was doing.
It turned out that my supervisor did slide off the roof on the piece of loose sheeting. I watched him, with the saw, fly through the air, landing on the ground on both feet. He looked back up to where he had been with a funny look on his face. I managed to control my laughter when it became clear he wasn’t hurt.
Since that time, I’ve thought more about that experience. Although it seemed funny, I’ve realized how dangerous that situation was. I’ve thought about how I would have felt if my supervisor had been badly hurt, crippled, or killed. I would have felt responsible. I knew something that could have helped him avoid a dangerous situation. I was afraid of what his reaction might be if I told him what he was doing wrong. I felt I didn’t have enough knowledge. But, in truth, I had the knowledge, the power to help save him, and I failed to use it.

I had a wonderful wife and two children, Marcus and Marisa. (Later, another son and daughter, Raphael and Aline, were born.) We were not involved in a church at that time, and I told my wife that it would be best for us and for our children to find one. Many of my friends at work were members of different religions, so my family and I went to five or six different churches.
One day we found on our door a card with a picture of Jesus Christ on one side and the name The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints on the other. I had never heard of this Church, and I asked my assistant at work, “What is this Church?”
He said, “Boss, don’t go there.”
But Heavenly Father had heard my family’s prayers. A few days later, in April of 1972, the missionaries knocked at our door. That changed our lives. We received all the discussions in one night. I asked and asked and asked questions. The missionaries answered my questions about the Church and about God and Jesus Christ and about the standing of black people in the Church. Elder Steve Richards and Elder Thomas McIntire were two very special missionaries, and they were prepared for that moment. All my questions were answered. The Holy Ghost testified all the time that these things were true.
When they left my house, I was completely changed. With reverence and respect, my family attended the meetings and activities, but we postponed baptism because of fear of negative reactions from our extended families.
Then we attended a district conference in Rio de Janeiro. The inspired messages from the pulpit prepared our hearts for an unforgettable moment. The counselor in the mission presidency bore his testimony about Jesus Christ, after which the congregation sang “I Need Thee Every Hour.” In that moment, the Holy Ghost reconfirmed the truthfulness of the things we already knew: The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was the Lord’s kingdom on earth, the road back to the celestial mansion of our Eternal Father.
My wife and I and Marcus—Marisa wasn’t old enough yet—were baptized July 2, 1972, the most important date in our lives. All the members of our branch attended our baptisms.
I had respect for all the doctrine and for the priesthood. Because I couldn’t hold the priesthood at that time, people often asked me, “What about the priesthood?” I told them that I had complete acceptance of it.
During the cornerstone laying of the São Paulo Temple, President Spencer W. Kimball motioned for me to come to him. I looked around to see whom he was looking at. He repeated the gesture. I did not understand. Elder James E. Faust looked at me and mouthed, “Come here. He wants to talk to you.” I went. President Kimball shook my hand and took hold of my arm and said, “Brother, what is necessary for you is faithfulness. Remain faithful, and you will enjoy all the blessings of the Church.”
A little more than a year later, in June 1978, we received a telephone call from a friend in Salt Lake City, Utah, telling us that President Kimball had announced the revelation* that all worthy males could hold the priesthood. I shall not forget that day. My wife cried. I cried. We knelt to thank our Heavenly Father. After that, the phone rang many, many times. Friends from the United States and Brazil called us.
The hand of the Lord is resting upon Brazil. It is a special country. We have many challenges, but we have a very special people who are friendly and accepting of the missionaries’ message.

Changing habits of nineteen or twenty years’ standing requires a careful persuasion of spirit, a restructured schedule of activities, and a conviction that the new habits will prove more valuable and effective than the old ones. A missionary, newly called, faces the necessity of revising his more worldly tendencies and arranging his life on a spiritual plane. His spirit is willing, and he knows that the main thing is to preach the gospel of Jesus Christ; but how does he make daily preparation to accomplish that goal?
The answers are provided in a five-day program of transition at the Missionary Home in Salt Lake City, Utah. Under the supervision of President and Sister J. Murray Rawson, elders and sisters exchange their individual touches of hesitance, reluctance, and fear, for conviction and confidence. They begin on
Registration is from 9:00 A.M. to 12:00 noon. A sister missionary walks bravely into the room marked “Missionaries—Register Here.” She reports her name, pays a fee to cover meals, and is given a short briefing by a member of the mission presidency as well as written instructions relative to her future for the next eighteen months and instructions to attend her first meeting at 2:00 P.M. Now she somehow wrestles her suitcases upstairs—“Missionaries Only” territory. In her room are seven bunk beds with pink bedspreads, several closets, some mirrors, and another sister lying on one of the beds. She sits up.
“Is that all you brought? Oh no! I’ve overpacked!”
Downstairs two mothers wait, watching missionaries form small groups, shake hands, and ask, “Where are you going?”
Both mothers are smiling; they’re also keeping score.
“Look! There’s another lady missionary there.”
“That’s two we’ve seen.”
By the wall map of mission divisions a father points for his two children.
“Do you want to see where Richard is going?”
Then it’s two o’clock and time for the first meeting and the first rule of missionary life: Missionary time is five minutes early.
The hunt for assigned seats causes some confusion, but soon the missionaries get themselves properly distributed. Seated in front of the sisters are the missionary couples going into the field. One woman confides to the sister next to her, “Look at these clean looking kids. I call them kids. My husband says I will have to get used to calling them elders. You know, it’s exciting to watch them change.”
The meeting begins. “Elders and sisters …” Each meeting is opened and concluded with a song and a prayer. Today’s meeting begins with a welcome from the mission presidency. The group learns that the present group of missionaries represents twenty-seven states of the United States plus Australia and Canada.
Next, Sister Rawson speaks on housekeeping, personal habits, and grooming. Little-known facts of ministerial grooming emerge. The missionaries learn that they can remove grass stains with rubbing alcohol and ballpoint pen marks with hair spray. Then there are talks from the counselors in the mission presidency, President Rees and President Broberg.
After dinner the group is introduced to the missionary discussions, and then President Rawson talks to them about spirituality.
The missionaries then spend a half hour in temple preparation. A more serious mood settles upon them with a deeper realization of their relationship as missionaries to the plan of salvation.
Next comes an introduction to discussion memorization by the teaching director. A few mumbles follow his announcement of the “easy way” to do it.
“I think I have a congenital memorization inadequacy.”
“How about me? I almost failed Primary because I couldn’t memorize the Articles of Faith.”
But then the teaching director concludes his remarks with the fact that sixty percent of the previous group memorized all discussions while still in the Missionary Home and adds his testimony.
“Looks like it’s not impossible after all, doesn’t it?”
Ten-thirty is bedtime. There is a long line of sinks in the women’s dormitory, each equipped with a sister missionary.
“… because the Lord wants me here, that’s why.”
“My goal is to go through every temple in the world.”
“Everyone told me I’d probably be called to some place close, and now just think, Southern Italy. Wow!”
“If someone could just take my make-up case, it would take care of my six excess pounds of luggage.”
“My boyfriend said he’d wait for me, but …”
Back in their bedrooms the sisters kneel together in prayer and know the comfort of feeling their spirits united in a mutual goal: to teach the gospel of Jesus Christ. An exchange of good-nights closes the day, except for a whispered, “The top bunk? I’ve never slept in a bunk bed before.” The light goes out, because in a shorter time than could be possible it’s
“Elders and sisters, it’s 6:15. All hands on deck!” President Rawson’s voice comes through the intercom, and missionaries in various stages of alertness arise and turn to make their beds.
Breakfast is at 6:30 in the new Church Office Building, where all meals are served during the five-day stay in the Missionary Home. The elders extend the sisters the courtesy of allowing them to be first in line at the cafeteria.
“I’m glad the Church doesn’t practice women’s lib!”
“Is there a rule against perfume?”
During breakfast the sisters make the acquaintance of a sister missionary whose family is all grown and married and whose husband is dead. She has been called to the Alabama-Florida Mission and speaks proudly of her children, all of whom graduated from college and were married in the temple.
“The Lord has been so good to me; I could not possibly refuse this call.”
Following breakfast the missionaries meet in the Visitor’s Center for a tour. The Tabernacle Choir broadcast then provides a half hour of enjoyment and relaxation prior to the first classes.
At 10:15 the sisters meet with the wives of the mission presidency for orientation and a question and answer session. The rest of the morning is spent discussing goals, self-improvement, and how to get organized.
After lunch it’s discussion study again. All the teachers are returned missionaries who have been called and set apart to this position. Each has completed a three-month training course.
Sunday morning the teaching staff for the sister missionaries gathers in the dormitory study area for a meeting to review the results of the previous week, check weak points, and assign study groups of six to ten sisters. The supervisor encourages her staff to maintain their enthusiasm and love for the sisters and to stimulate them to strive to reach the goals they have set. A member of the teaching staff reflects on her appreciation for this special calling with the comment:
“Sunday is the best day of the week!”
Sacrament meeting concludes with the testimonies of recent converts and Lamanite missionaries. A convert of one year bears his testimony to a congregation quiet in contemplation and reverence.
There are a few minutes between dinner and the evening classes, so the sisters use the dormitory to discuss mission rules, passports, bicycles, the language, hometowns, and expected conduct.
“We should exercise for a few minutes every day.”
“Let’s run in place; it’s good for your heart.”
“You mean all that walking isn’t going to do anything for our hearts?”
Then it’s back to the discussions again. The sisters approach memorization of the discussions with a concept of key-wording to establish a broad outline of thought patterns and content rather than the mechanical memorization of words, phrases, and sentences.
The legendary Mr. Brown becomes Sister Brown as the sisters pair off to tackle the first discussion.
“I think I make a better Mr. Brown than Elder Jones.” They memorize the first two discussions on Sunday.
Then, after straining their memories for two hours on the discussions, the missionaries strain them again with a class on how to remember names. Finally, it’s time for family prayer, and the day closes in the same peace of spirit with which the missionaries plan to meet
The temple session begins at 6:45, so the sisters get up at 6:15. The automatic protests at the early hour are brief and overshadowed by a low-voiced exchange of reasons for wanting to be part of this aspect of the Lord’s work.
“Every time I open my eyes it hurts.”
“… share something beautiful …”
“… an overwhelming desire to serve the Lord.”
“… feeling of peace as I signed the final papers in the bishop’s office.”
Between the two temple sessions that they attend, the missionaries meet with President Lee in the temple, where he answers any questions they may have about the endowment ceremony and the temple.
A late lunch is followed by a return to the classrooms, where the elders and sisters learn about door approaches and the use of the Book of Mormon in proselyting.
After dinner they memorize discussions three and four.
Two and a half days after their first apprehensive and impatient hours in the Missionary Home, the missionaries begin to feel a sense of purpose and belonging caused by tangible actions as well as their strong desires and aspirations. With this positive assurance they face
The day begins for the sisters with a morning prayer and song, and then a trip to the mailbox. A disconsolate elder stares at his empty box.
“I guess nobody loves me.”
“Sure they do. They were just glad to get rid of you.”
“Yeah! My brother was wearing my clothes even before I left.”
Most of the day Tuesday is spent learning about some important practical matters such as companion relationships, investigator relationships, health problems, auto safety, mission organization, and the daily work schedule.
Sandwiched in between these subjects is a unique little class taught by a member of the mission presidency. It is called “Listening.” In it the missionaries are taught how to listen perceptively and compassionately to others.
After dinner the missionaries memorize discussions five, six, and seven. Actually they have spent every spare minute all day long in concentrated study of the discussions. The time is only a few minutes snatched here and there, but it’s enough for most to get the job done.
It’s been a long day, but time seems to go faster each day. Lights out at 10:30, and more quickly than ever it’s
Today is the last day in the Missionary Home. This evening many of the elders and sisters will leave in buses for the language training missions at Ricks College and BYU. Others will leave on Thursday morning flights for their mission fields.
Everyone looks forward to Wednesday morning, not because it’s their last but because that’s the day the General Authorities speak to them. These leaders bear moving witness of the divine mission of Joseph Smith, of the importance of modern apostles and prophets, of the truth of the gospel, and of the divinity of Christ. They also explain the order of Church government in priesthood correlation, and advise the missionaries regarding their personal conduct. The morning passes far too quickly.
After lunch there is a testimony meeting. It ends with the elders and sisters singing “God Be with You” with some tears but mostly a sense of hope and enthusiasm and minds and hearts filled with words to remember.
“Smile, elders and sisters! These are glad tidings!”
“If you want to have a certain quality, act as if you already had that quality.”
“I told the brethren that the Book of Mormon was the most correct of any book on earth and the keystone of our religion, and a man would get nearer to God by abiding by its precepts than by any other book.”—Joseph Smith
“The gospel makes bad men good and good men better; it changes human nature.”—David O. McKay
Each missionary takes from the Missionary Home his suitcases, packages, “mission library,” and two special gifts: the gospel and the chance to share it, and the knowledge that he is prepared to succeed.

From the time I was born, the gospel has been a part of my life. My parents taught me right from wrong, all three of my brothers served missions, and my family was active in the Church. I was active too, or at least I went to church every Sunday. I wanted to believe, but I didn’t have a testimony of my own. I didn’t think I would ever find the truth for myself—but I’m glad I did.
In August of 2000 I submitted my mission papers. Not long after, I was invited to attend Education Week at Brigham Young University with some friends. I had been praying for a testimony of the Book of Mormon for a long time, and I was starting to get discouraged. Sometimes I even felt like Heavenly Father wasn’t listening to me. I decided to go to Education Week, hoping that I would receive an answer to my prayers about the Book of Mormon.
During my week at BYU I had many wonderful experiences. However, I still didn’t feel I had received an answer to my prayers. I remember wishing there was a phone I could just pick up and use to call Heavenly Father. I didn’t know what to do differently. I felt like my prayers were sincere. I had read the Book of Mormon all the way through. I read my patriarchal blessing over and over, and I was working on repenting of my sins. I could not figure out why Heavenly Father was not answering me.
Thursday afternoon found me in a large lecture hall. I was listening to a speaker whom I had already heard several times during the week. The speaker closed his remarks with his testimony. My eyes were riveted to the man as he spoke. He finished his testimony, and he closed with amen. No one moved. I looked down at my hands, which were holding my Book of Mormon. The most comforting feeling I have ever experienced fell over me. I felt the Spirit’s gentle affirmation that the Book of Mormon is true.
That testimony has never left me. I carried it into the mission field, and it carried me through my mission. I am so grateful for our Heavenly Father, who loves us and listens to us. He answered me. It was in His own time, but He answered me. I knew the truth.

“Which way do you face?” President Boyd K. Packer surprised me with this puzzling question while we were traveling together on my very first assignment as a new Seventy. Without an explanation to put the question in context, I was baffled. “A Seventy,” he continued, “does not represent the people to the prophet but the prophet to the people. Never forget which way you face!” It was a powerful lesson.

For a high school research paper, I chose as my topic non-Mormon explanations of the origin of the Book of Mormon. I remember going to the library and gathering everything I could about how Joseph Smith might have created it. The arguments weren’t convincing. I thought, Is this all that they can come up with? The project got me thinking, and as I studied, I also prayed. I suddenly realized that I knew the gospel was true. I believe I had really known this long before, but the study and prayer helped me to recognize it. After this experience, I knew for sure that I was going on a mission.

But one of the best adaptations of all came when Claudia and Sandra announced, out of the blue, that they wanted to be baptized. The Bisgaards had not been pushing their religion on the new family members. After all, they had enough to adjust to at first. But they were always included when they wanted to be. The Spanish-speaking sister missionaries came by now and then, but they were there to translate more than proselyte.
“One day the missionaries told us they were going to a baptism, so we asked them about it,” explained Claudia. “When they told us that in this church they baptize children when they’re eight so they understand everything, we decided that we needed to be baptized now too. We wanted to be members of the Church.”
Their new parents made certain that they understood what they were doing before they were baptized. The girls took the missionary discussions and attended many Church meetings prior to their baptismal date. Brother and Sister Bisgaard wanted to assure that their new daughters didn’t feel pressured into their decision and had sincere testimonies of the truthfulness of the gospel.
As time goes on, more and more adjustments are made and the family becomes more unified. They’re not yet perfect. What family is? There are still occasional tears, but there’s also a lot of laughter. As far as the kids are concerned, the pros far outweigh the cons. “Four new sisters mean four times as much joy,” Christopher concludes, tugging Jennifer’s ponytail as she toddles by.

“Come on, Fynn. It’s time to go!” Johan said.
Fynn’s brother, Johan, was waiting impatiently at the front door. He didn’t want to be late for school.
Fynn frowned. He didn’t want to go to school. His family had just moved to a new house. It was his first year at school, and he hadn’t made any friends here yet. He missed his old friends.
“I’m scared!” Fynn said, running to his mom. “Why do I have to go to school?”
Mom gave Fynn a hug. “It’s going to be OK. Let’s say a prayer,” she said. “There’s always time to pray.”
They knelt down and asked Heavenly Father to help Fynn. Then Fynn and his brother went to school. The day went a little better.
Every morning after that, Fynn knelt down and said a prayer asking Heavenly Father for help.
Slowly, things got better. Fynn made a friend, and he wasn’t scared anymore. After a while, Fynn started liking school.
One day Fynn and his brother were walking to school, and Fynn felt happy. He noticed the sun shining. He thought about all the fun things he was learning. Suddenly he stopped walking.
“I forgot something!” he told Johan. Fynn ran back to their house.
Mom looked worried when he ran inside.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I forgot to pray!” Fynn said. He knelt down. He wanted to thank Heavenly Father for helping him.
After ending his prayer, he gave Mom a hug. “There’s always time to pray!” he said.
Fynn smiled. Mom smiled. And as Fynn ran to catch up with his brother, he thought maybe Heavenly Father was smiling too.

I have a friend who did not follow the teachings of the Church in his youth. When he was a young adult, he realized what he had been missing by not living the gospel. He repented, changed his life, and devoted himself to righteous living. One day, years after our youthful association, I met him in the temple. The gospel light shone in his eyes, and I sensed that he was a devoted member of the Church trying to fully live the gospel. His is a story of redemption.

Growing up in India, my family and I were Hindu. I was always surrounded by the belief that there were many gods to worship. When I was young, I also had friends who were Christians. They told me about only one God who created the world and all people. I started wondering why I was worshipping so many gods, when others believed in only one.
When I was in high school, I got into some bad habits. I was drinking a lot, I was rude, and my family was upset by my behavior. So I moved and started a new life in Hyderabad, a city with a lot of opportunities for work.
I started to get depressed and lonely because of my lifestyle. But one day I came across two men. They explained that they were missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and told me about the gospel of Jesus Christ. And again I learned about just one God, who had created a plan of happiness for all of His children. Their message immediately filled me with happiness and hope. I wanted to learn more.
I’ve now been a member of the Church for seven years. I’ve changed, I’ve witnessed miracles in my life, and I’ve learned so much about the gospel. I love the joy it brings me. But there is one important part of the gospel I have yet to experience—the temple.
From the moment I first learned about the temple, I wanted to go there to learn and feel the Spirit, to be sealed for eternity to my family, and to make covenants with the Lord. But there are no temples in India, and I haven’t had the opportunity to travel to one yet. So many Latter-day Saints in India and I have said countless prayers, we’ve fasted, and we’ve held onto patience and faith that one day there would be a temple built in India.
During the April 2018 general conference, God answered our prayers as President Russell M. Nelson announced that a temple will be built in Bengaluru, India. I will never forget that day. The Spirit filled my heart with joy and my eyes with tears at the prophet’s words. I immediately thanked Heavenly Father for answering our prayers. And I am so excited to finally see and enter the temple in just a few years.
I am so happy and proud to be a member of the Church of Jesus Christ. I know that the Lord restored the true gospel on this earth through the Prophet Joseph Smith. I know that the temple is where we can grow closer to God, be sealed to our families, and learn more about our purpose. And while I wait for the temple to be built here in India, I am working hard to prepare myself to enter.
I’m praying and learning as much as I can about the temple, the covenants I will make, and the ordinances I will receive there.
I’m asking other members who have already been through the temple for advice on how to prepare spiritually.
I’m learning how to do family history work so I can bring my ancestors’ names to the temple.
I’m attending a temple preparation class.
I want to be ready for the day I can finally enter the temple and make it a priority in my life. I will strive to always be worthy to enter so I can receive promised blessings, direction, and answers to my prayers I have waited so long for. I can’t wait for that day.
Yeshwanth Kosireddy lives in Andhra Pradesh, India.
What Can I Do?
Think of ways you can make the temple a priority in your life. Make a goal to visit the temple more often, to learn more about the temple, to do family history work, or to remember your temple covenants every day.
Discover More
You can find more articles about preparing for the future in the young adult section of the July 2020 Liahona.
Check out YA Weekly, located in the Young Adults section of the Gospel Library app, for new, inspiring content for young adults each week.
You can submit your own stories, ideas, and feedback at liahona.ChurchofJesusChrist.org. We can’t wait to hear from you!

Last spring Mom and Dad went into town for a little while. Since I had turned twelve, they let me baby-sit my two younger sisters and baby brother. Everything went fine, but when they got home, Mom was feeling sick.
That night there was a stake Young Women and mothers’ dinner and the General Young Women Meeting broadcast from Salt Lake City. I really wanted to go to it, but with Mom’s being sick, I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to.
Mom lay down to rest for an hour. After she got up, we dyed some Easter eggs, and then she told me to get ready to go to the meeting. She said I could wear my new Easter dress. She still wasn’t feeling great, but we were going!
At the church, we ate a really good dinner of lasagna and salad, with brownies for dessert. After dinner, Mom said that she had a bad headache, but we went into the chapel with everyone else to watch the broadcast. During the broadcast she started to get really sick and told me that she needed to go home. She asked me if I wanted to stay and see all of the meeting, saying that I could get a ride home with a friend. I said, “Yes.” But I got a feeling inside me, and a voice said, “Go home with your mom, or she will crash.” Another voice said, “Don’t go—she’ll be fine.” I couldn’t decide which voice to listen to.
Mom sat there a few more minutes, then again said that she was going home and asked if I wanted to stay or go with her. The first voice came again: “Go home with your mom.” This time I listened to it and went with her.
As we left the church, I could see that my mom was getting worse and was very sick. On the highway going home, she could barely drive and told me, “Talk to me, Kendra, and tell me that we are going to get home.” I talked and talked and kept reassuring her that we would get home. We did.
I made the right choice to get us home safely. My dad helped my mom into bed; then we had family prayer and thanked Heavenly Father for getting us home safely and asked Him to help Mom get better.
That night I had a bad dream. I dreamed that if I had not gone home with Mom, she would have been hurt in a wreck.
I’m grateful for the gift of the Holy Ghost and that I was faithful enough to listen to His promptings to go home with Mom.

On occasion President Romney has told a delightful story about his wife. He said that he was concerned about his wife and couldn’t get her to go to the doctor, so he consulted with the doctor for advice. The doctor told him to use a simple test that would convince her of the need to see him about her hearing. He told President Romney to go home and call to her from several places, and if she didn’t respond quickly, there would be clear evidence of her need for medical help.
So President Romney went home and called to her from the front door: “Ida!” No answer. Then he moved inside and called, “Ida!” Then he called from the dining room. Still no answer. At last he confronted her in the kitchen and said, “Ida, I have been calling you.” And she replied, “I know, my dear, and I have answered you three times.”
President Romney then went on to say, “The problem wasn’t Ida’s.”

I have seen that faith and courage many times when believing Latter-day Saints have faced fearsome trials. For one example, I was in Idaho when the Teton Dam broke on June 5, 1976. A wall of water came down. Thousands fled from their homes. Thousands of homes and businesses were destroyed. Miraculously, fewer than 15 people were killed.
What I saw there, I have seen whenever Latter-day Saints stand firmly on the rock of a testimony of Jesus Christ. Because they have no doubt He watches over them, they become fearless. They ignore their own trials to go to the relief of others. And they do so out of love for the Lord, asking no recompense.
For example, when the Teton Dam broke, a Latter-day Saint couple was traveling, miles away from their home. As soon as they heard the news on the radio, they hurried back to Rexburg. Rather than going to their own home to see if it was destroyed, they went looking for their bishop. He was in a building that was being used as the recovery center. He was helping to direct the thousands of volunteers who were arriving in yellow school buses.
The couple walked up to the bishop and said, “We just got back. Bishop, where can we go to help?” He gave them the names of a family. That couple stayed mucking out mud and water in one home after another. They worked from dawn to dark for days. They finally took a break to go see about their own home. It was gone in the flood, leaving nothing to clean up. So they turned around quickly to go back to their bishop. They asked, “Bishop, do you have someone for us to help?”
That miracle of quiet courage and charity—the pure love of Christ—has been repeated over the years and across the world. It happened in the terrible days of the persecutions and trials at the time of the Prophet Joseph Smith in Missouri. It happened as Brigham Young led the exodus from Nauvoo and then called Saints to desert places all over the western United States, to help each other create Zion for the Lord.
If you read the journal entries of those pioneers, you see the miracle of faith driving out doubt and fear. And you read of Saints leaving their own interests to help someone else for the Lord, before getting back to their own sheep or to their own unplowed fields.
I saw that same miracle a few short days ago in the aftermath of Hurricane Irma in Puerto Rico, Saint Thomas, and Florida, where Latter-day Saints partnered with other churches, local community groups, and national organizations to begin cleanup efforts.
Like my friends in Rexburg, one nonmember couple in Florida focused on helping the community rather than laboring on their own property. When some Latter-day Saint neighbors offered help with the two large trees blocking their driveway, the couple explained that they had been overwhelmed and so had turned to helping others, having faith that the Lord would provide the aid they needed at their own home. The husband then shared that before our Church members arrived with offers of assistance, the couple had been praying. They had received an answer that help would come. It came within hours of that assurance.
I have heard a report that some have started calling the Latter-day Saints who are wearing yellow Helping Hands T-shirts “The Yellow Angels.” One Latter-day Saint took her car in for service, and the man helping her described the “spiritual experience” he had when people in yellow shirts removed trees from his yard and then, he said, they “sang some song to me about being a child of God.”
Another Florida resident—also not of our faith—related that Latter-day Saints came to her home when she was working in her devastated yard and feeling overwhelmed, overheated, and close to tears. The volunteers created, in her words, “a pure miracle.” They served not only with diligence but also with laughter and smiles, accepting nothing in return.
I saw that diligence and heard that laughter when, late on a Saturday, I visited with a group of Latter-day Saints in Florida. The volunteers stopped their cleanup labor long enough to let me shake some hands. They said that 90 members of their stake in Georgia had created a plan to join in the rescue in Florida just the night before.
They left Georgia at 4:00 in the morning, drove for hours, worked through the day and into the night, and planned to labor again the next day.
They described it to me all with smiles and good humor. The only stress I sensed was that they wanted to stop being thanked so they could get back to work. The stake president had restarted his chain saw and was working on a downed tree and a bishop was moving tree limbs as we got into our vehicle to go to the next rescue team.
Earlier that day, as we pulled away from another site, a man had walked up to the car, taken off his hat, and thanked us for the volunteers. He said, “I’m not a member of your church. I can’t believe what you have done for us. God bless you.” The LDS volunteer standing next to him in his yellow shirt smiled and shrugged his shoulders as if he deserved no praise.
While the volunteers from Georgia had come to help this man who couldn’t believe it, hundreds of Latter-day Saints from that very devastated part of Florida had gone hundreds of miles south to another place in Florida where they had heard the people were harder hit.
That day I remembered and understood better the prophetic words of the Prophet Joseph Smith: “A man filled with the love of God, is not content with blessing his family alone, but ranges through the whole world, anxious to bless the whole human race” (Teachings of Presidents of the Church: Joseph Smith [2007], 426).
We see such love in the lives of Latter-day Saints everywhere. Each time there is a tragic event anywhere in the world, Latter-day Saints donate and volunteer to the Church’s humanitarian efforts. An appeal is seldom needed. In fact, on some occasions, we have had to ask would-be volunteers to wait to travel to the recovery site until those directing the work are prepared to receive them.
That desire to bless is the fruit of people gaining a testimony of Jesus Christ, His gospel, His restored Church, and His prophet. That is why the Lord’s people doubt not and fear not. That is why missionaries volunteer for service in every corner of the world. That is why parents pray with their children for others. That is why leaders challenge their youth to take President Monson’s request to immerse themselves in the Book of Mormon to heart. The fruit comes not by being urged by leaders but by the youth and members acting on faith. That faith, put into action, which requires selfless sacrifice, brings the change of heart that allows them to feel the love of God.
Our hearts, however, remain changed only as long as we continue to follow the prophet’s counsel. If we stop trying after one burst of effort, the change will fade.
Faithful Latter-day Saints have increased their faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, in the Book of Mormon as the word of God, and in the restoration of priesthood keys in His true Church. That increased testimony has given us greater courage and concern for others of God’s children. But the challenges and the opportunities ahead will require even more.
We cannot foresee the details, but we know the larger picture. We know that in the last days, the world will be in commotion. We know that in the midst of whatever trouble comes, the Lord will lead faithful Latter-day Saints to take the gospel of Jesus Christ to every nation, kindred, tongue, and people. And we know that the Lord’s true disciples will be worthy and prepared to receive Him when He comes again. We need not fear.
So, as much as we have already built faith and courage in our hearts, the Lord expects more from us—and from the generations after us. They will need to be stronger and braver because they will do even greater and harder things than we have done. And they will face increasing opposition from the enemy of our souls.
The way to optimism as we go forward was given by the Lord: “Look unto me in every thought; doubt not, fear not” (D&C 6:36). President Monson told us how to do that. We are to ponder and apply the Book of Mormon and the words of prophets. Pray always. Be believing. Serve the Lord with all our heart, might, mind, and strength. We are to pray with all the energy of our hearts for the gift of charity, the pure love of Christ (see Moroni 7:47–48). And above all, we are to be consistent and persistent in following prophetic counsel.
When the way is difficult, we can rely on the Lord’s promise—the promise President Monson has reminded us of when he has often quoted these words of the Savior: “Whoso receiveth you, there I will be also, for I will go before your face. I will be on your right hand and on your left, and my Spirit shall be in your hearts, and mine angels round about you, to bear you up” (D&C 84:88).
I testify that the Lord goes before your face whenever you are on His errand. Sometimes you will be the angel the Lord sends to bear others up. Sometimes you will be the one surrounded by angels who bear you up. But always you will have His Spirit to be in your heart, as you have been promised in every sacrament service. You have only to keep His commandments.
The best days are ahead for the kingdom of God on the earth. Opposition will strengthen our faith in Jesus Christ, as it has since the days of the Prophet Joseph Smith. Faith always defeats fear. Standing together produces unity. And your prayers for those in need are heard and answered by a loving God. He neither slumbers nor does He sleep.
I bear my witness that God the Father lives and wants you to come home to Him. This is the true Church of the Lord Jesus Christ. He knows you; He loves you; He watches over you. He atoned for your sins and mine and the sins of all of Heavenly Father’s children. Following Him in your life and in your service to others is the only way to eternal life.
I so testify and leave you my blessing and my love. In the sacred name of Jesus Christ, amen.

And another incident: A member of my student branch had stopped in to see me. “President,” she said, “my dad has a birthday and I want to send him something worthwhile. But he is having such a financial struggle to keep me in school, I don’t think I should spend much. Can you suggest anything?”
I remembered the wonderful gift my own son had given me and then suggested to her: “Jan, why don’t you fast and pray for a true appreciation of your father. Then write down all the things he has done for you over the years—list all the reasons you are proud of him. Next list the things he has done for which you failed to thank him. Finally, sit down and pour your heart out in a letter that will convince him how much you love him. It will be the finest present he has ever received from you, and it will cost only a stamp.”

In my day, the chapels were not equipped with baptismal fonts. My first baptism was in the Scioto River in the state of Ohio. It was on a cool fall day, and the water seemed even colder than the air. I remember the shock of wading into the cold river while encouraging my investigator to follow me. The coldness of the air and the water, however, soon vanished as I administered the ordinance of baptism. Seeing the radiant face of the individual who came up out of the waters of baptism is an image I will never forget.

Jessie’s story is told by her friend, Maria Russo, who serves as the communication director in the Adelaide Australia Firle Stake.
Jie Ren, or Jessie as she likes to be called, arrived in Adelaide in March 2020 to study a master’s degree in speech pathology at the Flinders University.
Little did Jessie know that she had arrived just when the World Health Organisation declared the coronavirus to be a pandemic and her first semester would be in lockdown.
Jessie felt completely alone, isolated and scared. She said that all she had in her life during that time and all she did was to be “home alone, study, eat, sleep and repeat.” She was relieved when in July 2020 she was able to attend university for the first time since arriving in Australia.
Jessie said that being in a new country, away from family and friends, not knowing anyone in Australia and having to do all her studies (in what she said is an intense program) online for the first semester, took its toll on her and by November 2021 she was physically and mentally drained to the point that she needed to seek medical help.
During this time (Nov. 21) Jessie saw an advertisement on Facebook inviting people to English classes. The classes were being held by missionaries of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Jessie had previous experience with the Church in Shanghai when she was invited by friends to attend meetings, which she did sometimes. When she saw this post on Facebook, she was super excited and wanted to attend not only to learn English but also to be able to interact with people and perhaps make some friends.
As she dialled the number given in the ad, she was worried and apprehensive that she wouldn’t be accepted. She thought that the Church was a “sacred organisation and only members could attend.” She wanted to know if it was possible that she would be “accepted by God because [she had] little knowledge of Him.”
When Jessie was told she was more than welcome to attend she was delighted—ecstatic would be a more appropriate word.
Jessie still remembers the first day she entered the Adelaide Branch for English classes. She said the missionaries made her feel so very welcome and for the first time in a very long time she said she felt that “everything seemed right again.” She said it was like she “saw the light guide [her] through the darkness and felt hope again.”
Jessie couldn’t find a way out of COVID-19 and that first English class made her feel like there was light at the end of the tunnel.
After many English classes and the missionaries and members making her feel “so loved and welcomed” Jessie felt like she had arrived home. She was baptized on the first day of January 2022. She says it was a perfect way to start a new year and a new life.
Following is a quote from Jessie’s talk at her baptism:
“It is a big relief to know that there is a plan for everything happening in my life, and that plan is in the hands of God. He teaches me that I do not need all the answers and that it is okay not to know everything. Having faith in Him and keeping His commandments, I will find my inner peace. I can be calm to face difficulties in my life and believe I will make it eventually.
“I am so grateful that I am able to know God and get to experience the love and care that He has for me. I am ready to continue this journey with Him and pray that He will draw me closer to Him and guide my steps.
“Today I’m so excited to be baptized and share with all of you that I love Jesus, and He is my Lord and Saviour.”

Joseph set a date to be baptized one week after final exams. I stayed at the apartment of a friend in Salt Lake while I awaited the baptism. I was there all alone all day long. I was reading the Miracle Of Forgiveness by President Kimball...and you know what that means....Guilt trip time!

I wanted to be completely clean and pure when I stood in the circle to help confirm Joseph a member of the church. When the words
"Receive the Holy Ghost" were spoken, I wanted to be sure I was an open conduit for the spirit.

Now lest you think I was some evil, corrupt kid, let me assure you....I lived the word of wisdom. I lived the law of chastity. But there returned to my remembrance a terrible habit I had in junior High and part of High School. I was the only guy who was a completely active member of the Church in my grade. The guys I hung out with had the filthiest language imaginable, and unfortunately, I picked it up. It was a Jekyll and Hyde thing. Never cussed at home, and of course, never at church. I even managed to play church ball without letting too many bad words slip. But at school....it was time for Mr. Hyde. Especially at Basketball games. I sat in the crowd with my friends and let loose the most terrible stream of profanity whenever I disagreed with a referee call. Now I had overcome that bad habit when I became truly converted to the gospel toward the end of my junior year. ( OK, my wife will tell you I still disagree with the referee from time to time, but It's always with clean language!) By the time I was a senior, I had totally eliminated swearing from my vocabulary.

I remember one of the cheerleaders was in the cast "the Fantastiks" with me - a Broadway musical that we did at our High School. During the curtain call on closing night, she turned to me and gave me a little peck on the cheek (Boy, for a guy who was the geek of the week, that put me on cloud nine!)

Then she said, "I can't believe you are the same guy who used to yell those ugly, horrible words at the basketball games...I hope you'll never change" It was like a kick in the stomach. And that scene came back to me as I read the Miracle of Forgiveness. I realized I had never fully repented of the sin of profanity. I had changed my behavior, but had not been healed from the spiritual wounds.

I thought of all the people in the crowd at the basketball games who may have known I was LDS....how could I represent the Lord on a mission having uttered such foul things? I began to ache terribly, and for hours I pled with the Lord for forgiveness. I truly understood what Alma meant when he said in Alma 36:21..."there could be nothing so exquisite and so bitter as were my pains."

But as I wrestled with the Lord, there came to me several things I could and must do to be healed. I won't take the time to explain them all, but it had something to do with some sins of omission, some service, and a few heart to heart talks with some of my old high school classmates that the Lord told me I needed to ask for forgiveness... even those very friends I used to hang around. I began to feel hope....and I cried out those same words that I had memorized as a freshman in seminary.... "O Jesus, thou Son of God, have mercy on me, who am in the gall of bitterness, and am encircled about by the everlasting chains of death."

And you know what? Like Alma...I could remember my pains no more! My soul was filled with joy as exquisite as was my pain. I understood why the angels cry "Hosanna" - for I floated about the room crying out, Praise the Lord! And Thank You, Sweet Jesus!"

With His stripes, I was healed. The chastisement of MY peace was upon Him. I will always remember that feeling. When I find myself feeling empty inside, it motivates me to seek the healing power once again

Two such faithful members, James Ewudzie and Frederick Antwi, assisted me one day in the Accra Ghana Temple. Several years before Latter-day Saint missionaries arrived in Ghana, James had been part of a group of about 1,000 people who used the Book of Mormon and other Church materials in their church services. They prayed for the day that the Church would come to Ghana. He joined with other young men traveling around Ghana and teaching the gospel as found in our materials. Once missionaries arrived in 1978, he was baptized on the first day that Latter-day Saint baptisms were performed in Ghana.

Fred Antwi, a pioneer member of the Church in Ghana

Early in Fred’s time as a member, he attended the funeral of a relative who was a tribal chief. There he found out that the family plan was to make him the new chief. Knowing that such a position would cause him to do things contrary to his gospel beliefs, he sped away after the burial and turned his back on a position that would have brought him prominence and wealth.

Once the Accra Temple was dedicated, both James and Fred traveled over four hours, one way, every week so that they could be temple workers. As I performed ordinances with them, I was overcome with the sense of history that surrounded me. Realizing the Church history in Africa that the two of them represented, I felt like it was akin to having John Taylor or Wilford Woodruff or other early members of the Church with me doing those ordinances.