Gospel Story Finder

John Stephen Akhwari, a marathon runner from Tanzania, competed in the 1968 Summer Olympics. As he was suffering along the way from fatigue, leg cramps, dehydration, and disorientation, “a voice called from within to go on, and so he went on” (The Last African Runner, Olympiad Series, written, directed, and produced by Bud Greenspan, Cappy Productions, 1976, videocassette). Exhausted and staggering, John Stephen Akhwari was the last man to enter the stadium, more than an hour after the winner of the marathon had completed the race. When asked why he would complete a race he could never win, Akhwari replied, “My country did not send me 5,000 miles to start the race; my country sent me to finish the race.”

We are not brought to earth just to be born into mortality. We came with a mission and a purpose—and that is to endure to the end.

Jacob slipped in the cold slush on the entry floor. “Hold still, Annie!” he shouted.
He squatted next to the big dog and reached for her front paw. He held a towel in his other hand. Annie whined and jerked her paw away when Jacob touched it. She shook herself and nearly knocked Jacob over. He grabbed at her collar and shouted, “Annie! Hold still!”
Jacob let Annie go and wiped up the puddles with the towel. It was his responsibility to clean Annie’s paws when she came in the house, but it was frustrating. Annie didn’t like having her paws cleaned. Jacob sighed. He loved Annie, but she was a lot of work.
So was school. Mrs. Randall assigned a lot of homework, and Jacob didn’t think she was fair. Yesterday, Jacob went to school with his homework unfinished.
“But I already know how to do it, Mrs. Randall,” Jacob said. “I don’t see why I should have to do 20 problems to prove it!”
Mrs. Randall frowned. “I require 20 problems, Jacob. No arguments.” She marked his check-off sheet “Incomplete.”
It seemed that every week Jacob had a problem with Mrs. Randall. Jacob couldn’t wait until Christmas break.
Things were getting worse with Annie too. Whenever Jacob tried to wipe Annie’s feet, she nipped at his fingers.
“No!” Jacob would shout.
By Christmas Eve, Jacob’s fingers were seriously sore. There were little nip marks all over them. Annie didn’t bite hard, but her teeth were sharp.
“Ouch!” Jacob shouted as Annie bit him once again. “Stop it, Annie!”
“Why are you shouting at your dog, Jacob?” Grandma asked. She had been watching from the sofa as Jacob wiped Annie’s paws.
“She chews my fingers,” Jacob explained.
“Well, shouting won’t help,” Grandma said. “People and dogs are alike that way.”
For some reason, a picture of Mrs. Randall came into Jacob’s head. Could he be speaking to her the wrong way too?
“The scriptures say, ‘A soft answer turneth away wrath,’” Grandma said. Then she got up from the sofa and went to the kitchen.
Jacob was thoughtful as he went to the kitchen for dinner. “Grandma, what’s wrath?” he asked.
“Wrath is anger or wanting to punish,” she said.
Jacob thought about that. Maybe he hadn’t tried everything with Annie.
Before bed, Jacob had to mop Annie’s feet for the last time of the night. Instead of shouting and scolding, he tried to speak quietly. He talked to her about Christmas. He called Annie a good dog and told her he loved her. He politely asked her to stop biting his fingers. Annie had been whining and nipping at his hands, but as he got to her last paw, she stopped. Jacob kept talking, kindly and softly. Annie twitched a little as he finished toweling between her toes, but she didn’t bite.
Jacob could hardly wait to tell Grandma. He knew the “soft answer” was the right answer. He knew it would help Annie to stop nipping at his fingers. Jacob felt good inside. The Holy Ghost was testifying to him that he had learned a true principle.
As Jacob got ready for bed, he thought about Mrs. Randall. He knew he needed to work hard on his assignments and be responsible for his schoolwork. He also knew that he needed to speak more respectfully. Could a soft answer turn away some of Mrs. Randall’s frustration with him?
“There’s only one way to find out,” Jacob thought.
He was excited to try.

One day my instructor was giving an explanation to five of us in the ready room. In order to explain a certain maneuver, he went to the blackboard. Inasmuch as he was smoking a cigarette, he handed it to me to hold while he made the demonstration, and by this means I had the “privilege” of holding my first cigarette. After he had finished his demonstration at the blackboard, he took his cigarette back, and then he said, “Mr. Bangerter, I apologize for handing you my cigarette. I know you don’t smoke, do you?”
I said, “No, sir, I don’t.”
He said, “You don’t drink either, do you?”
I said, “No, sir.”
He asked, “Do you drink tea?”
“No, sir.”
“Do you drink coffee?”
“No, sir.” He turned to the other four students standing together and said, “Now, men, that’s the Word of Wisdom. We would all be much better off if we lived that way.” You can appreciate that I felt uplifted by that experience.

One evening last summer the 64 members of the “Sounds of Friendship” performing group from the LDS Institute of Religion at Utah State University were worrying if they could keep the interest of 2,000 young people who didn’t speak English. The “Sounds” were to perform the next evening for youth groups from such countries as East Germany, Poland, Russia, and Bulgaria at the Youth Pop-folk Celebration at Primorsko, Bulgaria, a resort on the Black Sea. The Utahns hoped to make a lasting impression but were worried about the language differences and the cold, windy amphitheater where they would be performing. The next night, however, the weather suddenly turned warm and the “Sounds” presented their full concert to the entire audience. In fact, one group of listeners kept their bus waiting because they didn’t want to leave the performance! The language barrier had been broken.
The concert in Primorsko was part of a three-week tour of Rumania and Bulgaria for the “Sounds,” officially known as the “Sounds of Zion” in the United States. “While on tour we had to change our name, since we were not allowed to perform as a religious group,” explained member Alex Baugh. “So we centered our program on themes of happiness, joy, and the home and family. Yet at every concert we were able to sing ‘The Battle Hymn of the Republic,’ and ‘God Be with You.’ In this way we let them know how much our country and our Heavenly Father mean to us.”
In addition, the group was allowed to hand out picture postcards of Utah, the temples, and other Church buildings; Articles of Faith cards; buttons with their pictures on them; and Frisbees carrying the message “‘The Sounds of Friendship’ (The Mormons), Logan, Utah, USA.” The “Sounds” concluded their tour by taping a full-length show for Rumanian television, the first American group to do so. Director of the group, James Bradley, organized the “Sounds of Zion” 22 years ago with the purpose of forming an organization that could radiate the gospel in song and dance. He summed up the most recent trip by saying, “To me, it is almost a miracle to overcome so many difficulties and still be so effective. When the gospel doors are opened into Rumania and Bulgaria, I feel there will be many people who will welcome the missionaries with open arms.”

It was in Fayette, New York, that the Church was organized on 6 April 1830. Among the 56 friends and believers who gathered at the meeting was David Lewis, an 11-year-old boy. David said later: “[After the meeting] I went home and asked my mother if she was willing that I join the Church.”

She asked, “What church?” When he told her it was The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, she said, “Yes, David, you can do so if you please, but David, the whole world is against them, including all the good ministers.”

David replied, “I like the way Joseph speaks, he preaches baptism for the remission of sins, the laying on of hands for the reception of the Holy Ghost, etc.”

Only 29 days after the Church was organized, David Lewis was baptized on his 12th birthday by the Prophet Joseph Smith (David Lewis, reminiscence dictated to Andrew Jenson, 10 September 1908, LDS Church Archives; cited in Ensign, September 1978, 26).

“When President Russell M. Nelson announced the temple for Puerto Rico, I was alone in my room, watching General Conference, and the emotion was so great that I cried, I thanked Heavenly Father for answering my forty-year prayer.” expresses María del Carmen Carrasco Caraballo, from the Ponce 1st Ward, Ponce Puerto Rico Stake.

Although due to the COVID-19 pandemic the work was stopped in March 2020, they felt confident that everything would be resolved. “I clung, with all my heart, to the knowledge that God’s timing is perfect, and I felt peace,” says Sister Carrasco Caraballo, happy that the work was resumed in May of that same year.

Sister María del Carmen Carrasco, from the Ponce Puerto Rico Stake, along with a group of her from her Ponce 1st Ward, are preparing in the Santo Domingo Temple and have been set apart to serve as ordinance workers in the temple in her country.

“After forty years of waiting for this great blessing, our sights are on the temple and the ordinances that are performed there. Our goal is to be able to serve in the Puerto Rico Temple,” she says.

While the temple is being built, this sister has focused on teaching Primary children the importance of family history and temple work for a Latter-day Saint. On the other hand, she has increased the search for data to strengthen her family history and strives every day to stay worthy to enter the House of the Lord.

While serving a full-time mission in the Philippines, my husband, Robert, and I traveled to Cagayan de Oro to set up a Family History Center in the Cagayan de Oro East Stake Center and to do some training. We also invited members from the Malaybalay district to join us. Non-Filipinos are not allowed to go into some parts of the region, and Malaybalay was an area where we could not go. For almost a year, the Malaybalay district had had the equipment for a Family History Center; all they needed was some training to be able to set it up.
We contacted the Malaybalay district president, Leandro Miole, and asked him if he and the Saints in Malaybalay could come to the Cagayan de Oro East Stake Center for our seminar. President Miole responded that they would be happy to come, even though it meant a drive of more than two hours on mountain roads. My husband wrote a letter to President Miole confirming the date, place, and time of our training session.
On the day of the seminar as I was doing my portion of the training, a man walked in and started talking with my husband. The man drew a letter from his pocket and opened it for my husband to read. I could see the conversation was quite serious.
At the end of our training session, my husband informed me that the man was President Miole from the Malaybalay district and that he and 10 members of his district had been waiting at the Cagayan de Oro Stake Center since 8:00 A.M. President Miole had shown my husband the letter stating the details of the training. To my husband’s chagrin, he realized he had forgotten to identify the place as the east stake center. We felt bad that these faithful Saints had waited hours for training that had never come, and we happily agreed to go to the Cagayan de Oro Stake Center to conduct the training session.
The Saints were happy to see us when we arrived. We opened with a prayer and a hymn, then launched into the training.
As I began demonstrating how to use the microfilm reader, I noticed that a film had been left in the reader. So instead of using the film I had brought for the demonstration, I used the film already in the reader. As my husband turned the crank and I showed where to look on the film for names, I heard someone crying softly. Looking up, I realized President Miole was in tears. I quickly asked if I had said something to distress him.
Through his tears he quietly said, “I found them!” Pointing to the names on the screen of the microfilm reader, he told us he had searched and prayed to find these names—the names of his ancestors—for more than three years. And now, there they were—on a microfilm reader he should not have been looking at, in a building he should not have been in.
That day we were reminded that “by small and simple things are great things brought to pass” (Alma 37:6).

In order to describe the valuable role of the Holy Ghost as witness, I will continue the story of Fernando and Bayley. If you remember, I shared that Fernando and his brother had been baptized, but his parents and three younger brothers had not. And, despite receiving numerous invitations to meet with the missionaries over the years, each time the family declined.
Upon the painful passing of Bayley and her baby daughter, Fernando’s family was inconsolable. Unlike Fernando and unlike Bayley’s family, they found no comfort or peace. They could not understand how their own son, along with Bayley’s family, could bear their heavy burden.
Eventually, they concluded that what their son possessed and they did not was the restored gospel of Jesus Christ and this must be his source of peace and comfort. Following this realization, they invited the missionaries to teach their family the gospel. As a result, they received their own witness and testimony of the great plan of happiness, which brought them the sweet peace and calming comfort they were desperately seeking.
Two months after the loss of Bayley and their unborn granddaughter, Fernando’s parents as well as two of his younger brothers were baptized and confirmed and received the gift of the Holy Ghost. Fernando’s youngest brother looks forward to his baptism when he turns eight. They each testify that the Spirit, the Holy Ghost, bore witness of the truthfulness of the gospel, leading them to a desire to be baptized and to receive the gift of the Holy Ghost.

Sometimes we view problems in the world around us with a sense of fatalism. “That’s just how things are,” we reason. “How could I possibly change them?” Yet through even the humblest of us acting in our own small sphere, the Lord can accomplish great things. Consider the life of a 78-year-old woman in Norway. Her name is Rigmor Heistø, and her experiences are proof of the power one person can have—one person who has given her life to the Lord.
Rigmor Heistø was already 43 years old when this story begins. It was 1963, and in many ways Rigmor was leading a comfortable life. She was married to a prominent physician and had three much-loved children. Like most Norwegians, she belonged to the Lutheran Church, the state church of Norway. She also took part in two Bible study groups.
Yet all was not well. Members of her family were struggling with health problems, and her marriage was troubled.
When Elder John Storheim and Elder John Marshall came to her door, Rigmor was immediately touched. She found their message fascinating; then she began to feel it was true. Her conversations with them answered some questions she had always had—and raised some new ones. She took her questions to her Bible study groups. Disturbed by Rigmor’s new questions, the leaders of one of the groups asked her to stop coming to the group’s meetings. Other friends begged her to stop seeing the missionaries. Her husband opposed her conversion. So intense was the pressure, in fact, that Rigmor told the missionaries not to come back, privately determining to remember the truths she had learned from them.
For several months, Rigmor prayed that she would forget the Church if—as her friends had told her—it really were the devil’s church. But the more she prayed, the more she was reminded of the Church. Finally, she went to a meeting at her church where two hymns that she had heard on a Tabernacle Choir album were played. When the pastor rose and exhorted the congregation to “remember them … who have spoken unto you the word of God” (Heb. 13:7), Rigmor knew in her heart that it was the missionaries who had spoken the word of God to her. She decided to follow her new faith, whatever the cost.
Rigmor’s husband had been influenced by an inaccurate, negative description of the Church in a book by a respected Norwegian theologian, Einar Molland. So he first withheld and then grudgingly gave his permission for Rigmor to be baptized. Rigmor was baptized in 1964; three years later, she and her husband were divorced.
Now Rigmor faced an overwhelming set of circumstances. She left her comfortable home and moved to a small apartment. Needing to support herself financially, she had to seek employment for the first time since the birth of her oldest child. But, as the Prophet Joseph Smith wrote, a very small helm working determinedly can keep a very large ship safe “in the time of a storm.” And if we will “cheerfully do all things that lie in our power,” we can trust “with the utmost assurance” that his mighty, saving power will ultimately be manifest in our lives (see D&C 123:16–17).
With intelligence, energy, and determination, Rigmor did what lay in her power to do. She worked briefly as a clerk and then got a job as a substitute teacher in a youth school. The Nazi occupation of Norway in 1940 had ended her university studies. Now Rigmor enrolled in college to get the training to be a full-time teacher. And it was here that a remarkable lifelong mission as a goodwill ambassador for the Church began.
One day in an ethics class in 1967, a young professor of theology, Inge Lønning, who later became rector of Oslo University and editor of Church and Culture, stated that people in Norway enjoyed total freedom of choice regarding religion. Rigmor quickly spoke up. “That applies only to members of the state church,” she told him. “Just try and believe some other religion.”
Later, during a class break, she explained to Professor Lønning that her former husband had been misled by misinformation about the Church in a book written by Einar Molland. When Professor Lønning mentioned that he often had lunch with Einar Molland, Rigmor asked him to arrange an interview for her.
And so it was that Rigmor Heistø, a convert of just a few years, found herself in the office of Norway’s leading theologian. “Good morning, Mrs. Heistø,” he greeted her. “I can understand people converting to Catholicism, to Methodism, or to Baptistism. But how can anyone convert to Mormonism?”
With her typical disarming and good-humored candor, Rigmor replied, “If I hadn’t known any more about the Church than you do, it would be the last thing I would have done.” She then asked, “Where did you get this nonsense in your book?” When Professor Molland explained he had found it in books in the university library, she told him that he could have easily received correct information from the mission president, whose office was just a hundred meters down the road. Then she explained the damage that misinformation had done in her home.
Professor Molland was saddened and promised to correct the section about the Church in the next edition. In 1977, true to his word, Professor Molland allowed mission president John Langeland, Sister Heistø, and others to check the section on The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in a revised edition, which was published in 1978. “I have never felt the Spirit move me so much,”remembers Sister Heistø of that important meeting. “When I left Professor Molland’s office, we were the best of friends.”
Rigmor finished teachers’ college and taught full-time at a youth school. Then she completed a three-year course in special education, specializing in teaching people with dyslexia. In 1980, she was assigned to create a social science course for eighth and ninth graders. She traveled to Brigham Young University to research and write a workbook on developmental psychology. Then, in 1988, at age 68, she received a degree in Christianity from Norway’s state seminary school, where most Lutheran priests receive their education.
Education about the LDS Church is especially needed in Norway, where, for many years, only the official state church was legally recognized. In 1845, a so-called dissenter law allowed some other Christian churches to be recognized as “dissenting” faiths. But, because of some key doctrines, the Church was judged not to qualify for recognition until the 1960s. Then it was not until 1988 that the Church was officially registered. “The Church is now recognized as existing,” says Sister Heistø, “but many people still do not consider Latter-day Saints to be Christians.”
So when one of her teachers at the seminary, philosophy professor Guttorm Fløistad, asked his students to suggest topics for study, Rigmor saw another opportunity to educate people about the Church. She suggested that the class study the philosophical basis of Mormonism. The professor agreed, and Latter-day Saint scholar Truman Madsen, then director of the Brigham Young University Jerusalem Center, was invited to visit and give lectures at Oslo University. After Dr. Madsen’s visit to Norway in 1986, a regular exchange program with Norwegian and BYU professors was established. Guttorm Fløistad was the first Norwegian professor to visit Utah on the exchange program. And Inge Lønning (now rector of Oslo University), who had arranged for Rigmor to meet Professor Molland, was the second. The third professor from Oslo University to visit BYU was Francis Sejersted, chairman of the Nobel Peace Prize committee. The fourth was Gudmund Hernes, cabinet minister of Education, Research, and Church Affairs in Norway.
And so began a circle of friendship that continually expands. When she learned that a Norwegian Bible Association brochure was recommending that all schoolchildren view a film defamatory to the Church, Rigmor called the association’s general secretary. She asked him to review the film and to read a book by Church members refuting the film’s claims. The man had met Truman Madsen and was so impressed with his dedication that he was happy to comply with Rigmor’s request. Several months later, he removed the film from the association’s catalog and helped get it removed entirely from Norwegian schools.
Throughout her career, Rigmor has introduced many young people to the Church through comparative religion courses. When students were assigned to present reports on the Church, she invited them to her home and taught them over waffles and jam. For eight years, she set up a display about the Church at a curriculum conference attended by thousands of teachers.
Perhaps one of Rigmor’s most far-reaching contributions has been compiling and editing a book on comparative religions called This We Believe, published in 1994. Rigmor heads a group made up of representatives from 37 faiths; she assigned a representative of each of the religious groups to write a chapter about their religion for the book. “They appreciated very much the opportunity to write about what they believed in,” says Sister Heistø. “Like me, they were saddened by all the misinformation in print regarding their respective churches.”
Rigmor also represented minority faiths at a seminar in 1994 on teaching religion in Norwegian schools. There she addressed the importance of using only accurate information about different religions in the classroom. This topic currently holds great interest because of a 1997 law requiring Norwegian schoolchildren to learn about other religions.
Sister Heistø’s strong confidence is born of conviction. “The gospel is the best message on earth,” she says. “No one is with me more than five minutes before they know who I am.”
But Rigmor does not see her willingness to speak up as especially courageous. “I don’t really need courage,” says Sister Heistø. “I just think, ‘Oh, here is something I can do.’” One day, for example, she picked up the newspaper and read an interesting article in which Georg Fredrik Rieber-Mohn, the attorney general of Norway, lamented the state of family life and cultural values in Norway. He warned that the pursuit of materialism could destroy the country and called for the state church to teach values with authority.
Sister Heistø thought the attorney general needed to know that a church is already doing the very things he advocated and that its name is The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. So she wrote a letter to him.
A week later, the attorney general himself called, asking Sister Heistø to meet with him. As a result, she spent several hours explaining the Church to Mr. Rieber-Mohn. “I think the Lord knows two things about me,” says Sister Heistø. “He knows I am not afraid of other people. Why should I be? … And,” she adds, smiling, “he knows I can talk.”
Now Rigmor becomes reflective: “My children are married and have children of their own. [One daughter and some grandchildren eventually joined the Church.] I can choose what I use my time for. So it is the Church. It is nothing to boast about. Think of all the fantastic experiences I have all the time. It is difficult to be alone—so the more lonely I feel, the more challenges I take on.”
Then she refers to a picture hanging in her sitting room, a picture of Christ wearing a crown of thorns. “Self-pity is a feeling I do not allow to come into my home,” she says. “When I feel it start, I just look at my picture of Christ. ‘Excuse me,’ I say. ‘You have hurt much more for me than I do for you.’”
And so, at age 78, Rigmor Heistø continues on, steadfastly doing what lies in her power to do, cheerfully helping the Lord bring about his purposes in Norway.

Stephanie Post isn’t about to take any credit. She’s just been a friend. It’s no big thing, she assures. Anybody would do it.
Serena Oddens doesn’t exactly see things the same way. Her thoughts on Stephanie? It is a big thing and, no, not just anybody would do it.
“Stephanie really supported me through some rough times, and she’s been a great example to me,” says Serena.
It’s a Saturday in Den Haag, Netherlands. Youth from stakes in the Netherlands and Belgium have gathered together for a day-long activity, and Stephanie and Serena are happy. Although they’re in the same stake, they don’t get to see each other that often. As they sit on the lawn, the talk turns to the beginning of their friendship a few years earlier.
Serena thinks to when her life wasn’t where she knew it should be. “At my school, nobody was studying, and it seemed everybody was smoking and drinking and using drugs. I didn’t stop going to church, but I was hanging around with the wrong friends and not doing everything I should have been doing,” she says. “I see what’s become of many of my former friends, and I think had I stayed at that school nothing good would have become of me.”
Enter Stephanie. At the same time Serena’s mom asked her to transfer schools and leave her friends, Serena met Stephanie, 18, a member of the Almere Branch in the Den Haag Stake. “Stephie’s really supported me while telling me good stuff about the Church. She taught me things about the gospel that I didn’t even know,” Serena says. “Stephie always bears her testimony and tells me of the things she’s been through. It’s great for me.”
“But it’s not just one way,” Stephanie says of their friendship. “It’s not that I only helped Serena, because she’s helped me too. She’s been a really good friend.”
Stephanie was born in Australia, but when she was 10, her family moved to the Netherlands. “My mom just knew we had to come to Holland for certain reasons and to help build up the Church. My mother is wonderful. She’s a strong member, and she’s a good example for me because she’s always given me a path to follow.”
Now Stephanie is making a path of her own, and Serena has joined her. Right at the time when things seemed to be falling apart for Serena, Stephanie appeared on the scene. Although distance keeps them apart—Almere is a one-hour car ride from Serena’s home in Alkmaar—they remain close. Thank goodness for phones.
“There are no other members of the Church at my school, and I often feel like I am the only one who is doing good and right things,” says 17-year-old Serena. “I sometimes feel like I am standing alone. Stephie was there along with all my friends from church who were supporting me. But the thing about Stephie is that she knows everything about me and I know everything about her.
“When I’m feeling down or upset,” she continues, “it’s like my school friends don’t understand me or what I’m feeling or what I’m going through. When I talk to her about it, we can get things off our chests and she understands.”
Stephanie knows teenagers in Holland aren’t much different from those all over the world. Once they hit their teenage years, they start experimenting and changing. She’s just glad she was there to help Serena.
“I think it’s really sad to see the youth we have hung out with in our stake go fully inactive or have other troubles that take them from the Church,” Stephanie says. “But it’s really nice to hear that someone who has been inactive for a while is active again or going on a mission. That’s what’s been so great about Serena.”
It’s moments like this when Stephanie feels grateful she’s stayed active her whole life. Stephanie remembers turning down classmates’ invitations to parties, or the times they called her a “goody-goody.” But along the way, Stephanie’s testimony has grown.
“I’ve known since I was little that the Church is true. When you know something so strongly I guess you can’t go around it,” Stephanie says. “I’ve had my trials and I’ve had my times when I ask myself what I am doing and why I am still going to church.
“But,” Stephanie continues, “I think Serena and I have come to an age now where we don’t care as much about what people think. We are members of the Church and we are different. Some of my friends call me a goody-goody like it’s a bad thing. Well, I am a goody-goody, and it’s not a bad thing at all.”
Serena agrees. “Stephanie helped me to understand that I don’t need to be ashamed of my standards. When I think back to my inactive stage, it isn’t that I’m jealous of Stephanie because she didn’t go inactive. But if I could turn back the hands of time, I would do things differently.”
As Serena stops talking, Morwenna Kleijweg sits down. Stephanie is finishing a thought. “I think it’s great to be an example to those who maybe aren’t that strong. I’m not sure I always make a difference, but I hope I do.”
“You do,” says Morwenna, a Laurel in the Leiden Ward. She then proceeds to tell how she met Stephanie for the first time at girls’ camp. “When I met Stephie, I was going through a really rough time for myself. She told me things about herself, and I recognized myself in her,” Morwenna says. “When I went home from camp, I realized it was a great experience for me to find someone I could be close to who could be an example.”

At the beginning of each year, I make at least one resolution. Last year, I resolved to read the Book of Mormon every day. But I didn’t want to just read it like I would any other book. I committed to really study and ponder the things I would read.
The night that I resolved to do this, I said a prayer and asked Heavenly Father to help me stick to my goal. Then I started reading. As I read, the Spirit filled my room, and I knew this was going to be one resolution that I would keep.
There were many nights that I couldn’t put my book down to go to sleep because I was so involved with what I was reading. As I read about the prophets, they came alive to me. I felt like I was getting to know them each individually. They were becoming a part of my life like never before.
Whenever I experienced a trial or hardship, I would think of the trials that Nephi, Abinadi, or Alma went through. For the most part, my trials seemed small in comparison. But the lessons I learned from my trials were similar. I learned faith, patience, humility, and forgiveness. Most important of all, I learned how important and how real the Atonement of Jesus Christ is.
I am grateful that my testimony of the Book of Mormon has been strengthened, and that my love for the prophets and for my Savior has deepened.

As Wilford Woodruff traveled west with the advance company, he often reflected on its sacred mission. “It should be understood,” he wrote in his journal, “that we are piloting a road for the house of Israel to travel in for many years to come.”17
One night, he dreamed that the company arrived at the new gathering place. As he gazed upon the land, a glorious temple appeared before him. It appeared to be built of white and blue stone. Turning to some men standing near him in the dream, he asked if they could see it. They said they did not, but that did not diminish the joy Wilford felt in beholding it.18

When I was about eight years old, I attended Lafayette School, which was very close to Temple Square. One day at lunchtime, my mother took me out for lunch at the Lion House, which is a house where President Brigham Young used to live. While we were there, she noticed President Heber J. Grant eating lunch. Taking me over, she introduced me to him, and he shook my hand. I knew he was different from other men. Since that time, I have shaken hands with the next eight Presidents of the Church. Each time, I could feel the honor and dignity of the prophet.

My wife, Harriet, and I love riding our bicycles. It is wonderful to get out and enjoy the beauties of nature. We have certain routes we like to bike, but we don’t pay too much attention to how far we go or how fast we travel in comparison with other riders.

However, occasionally I think we should be a bit more competitive. I even think we could get a better time or ride at a higher speed if only we pushed ourselves a little more. And then sometimes I even make the big mistake of mentioning this idea to my wonderful wife.

Her typical reaction to my suggestions of this nature is always very kind, very clear, and very direct. She smiles and says, “Dieter, it’s not a race; it’s a journey. Enjoy the moment.”

How right she is!

Sometimes in life we become so focused on the finish line that we fail to find joy in the journey. I don’t go cycling with my wife because I’m excited about finishing. I go because the experience of being with her is sweet and enjoyable.

Elder Matthew Cowley once asked an elders quorum president how his elders were getting along as a quorum. “Do you do anything to help one another?” “Oh, yes,” was the response. “We’ve got a member of our quorum in the hospital in New Mexico. He was a vigorous young man, buying a farm, a hard worker with a lovely family. All of a sudden he was stricken.” That could have meant the end of his farm and family security.

The elders quorum president said, “That was our loss as much as for his wife and children. So we took over, and we’ve operated that farm. All he has to worry about is getting well.”

For decades, persecution of Church members was severe. Many missionaries landed in prison, including Mikael Jonsson, a native Swede. He was arrested in 1852 and was brought in chains 480 miles (770 km) to Malmö, where he was thrown in the castle prison, exhausted from hunger and privation. He was visited by a priest, who found that Elder Jonsson was an intelligent man with some education. The priest declared that he was willing to help him and even promised him further education—on the condition that he join the Lutheran faith and deny “Mormonism.” Elder Jonsson would not deny his faith, so he was deported.4

David’s father, Raymond, had taught him two important secrets to obtaining goals: give it your all and never quit. David was used to giving his all, so it was no surprise when he was back at school the Monday after he left the hospital.
“I was in a body cast and neck brace,” David says. “I had absolute faith I would get better but soon realized I was completely unlike the other 800 kids in my school. After that first hard week, though, I knew I could do anything I wanted; I just had to find a different way.”
A few months later his brother suggested David run for student body president. David again gave it his all, and he went from sports star to school leader. “That year was awesome,” he says. “It was the perfect preparation for my mission.”

Tongues. Did the Prophet Joseph Smith ever speak in tongues? He did. Brigham Young met him for the first time in Kirtland. They had a meeting. Brigham was called upon to pray, and in the course of this prayer spoke in an unknown tongue. When he and the others rose from their knees and were seated, the Prophet addressed them: “Brethren, this tongue that we have heard is the gift of God, for He has made it known unto me, and I shall never oppose anything that comes from Him. I feel the spirit that Brother Brigham has manifested in this gift of tongues, and I wish to speak myself in the tongue that it will please the Lord to give me.” After then speaking for a time in that tongue, Joseph declared: “Brethren, this is the language of our father Adam while he dwelt in Eden; and the time will again come, that when the Lord brings again Zion, the Zion of Enoch, this people will then all speak the language which I have just spoken.”63

In February 2013, I met a young man named Kurt at a dinner party. He was scruffy, unshaven, and hungover. I didn’t give him much thought. Four months later, I saw a handsome young man who instantly took my breath away. Our paths crossed for all of five minutes, but in that time, I realized that it was Kurt—the same scruffy guy I had met before. I wondered about the change in his appearance.
Two weeks later, I was surprised to receive a text message from Kurt to join his friends to watch a movie. I debated in my head whether I should go. How did he even get my number? I barely knew this guy, my first impressions of him were not the greatest, and it didn’t seem like we didn’t have much in common. Reluctantly I made my mind up to go anyway.
After the movie, Kurt invited me to dinner, and I only said yes because I was starving, but that dinner changed everything. My first impression of him changed as I found out he was someone who genuinely made me smile and laugh. He was so easy to talk with, and we became instant friends.
As time passed, our friendship grew and so did our feelings. Before a romantic relationship could develop, I had this internal battle; he wasn’t a member of the Church. I knew that I wanted to be married in the temple and raise my children in the gospel. I wanted an eternal family. So what was I doing developing a relationship with him?
I knew I needed to do something. One evening we were driving back to my house, and I asked, “What are we doing?” I told him that we needed to take a step back and not let our friendship develop into something more. I said that I didn’t want to break my heart or his heart if we got into a relationship only to have to part ways because I wanted a temple marriage. I told him that life isn’t just about me, or us, but about our futures and future children. I admitted that I knew this was crazy and that I was jumping ahead but that I was just trying to be realistic and spare us future heartache.
He listened and then, to my surprise, replied, “I will take you to the temple.” I doubted him—how could he promise that? He reassured me by promising to take me and asking me to trust him.
I didn’t really know what to do, but it was probably the first time in my life that I had been praying with so much real intent. As I was fasting and praying throughout the whole journey, I always had a reassuring feeling that it was right and to keep going along this path. My previous relationships had felt good, but being with Kurt, for the first time in my life, things felt right—not just good but right, and I felt at home.
With that reassurance from the Spirit, I agreed to trust Kurt and continue our relationship. I knew that things still might not work out, but I also knew that I would stick to my commitment to a temple marriage.
Kurt started meeting with the missionaries. During the lessons, I found out that he had been investigating the Church for over a year before we met. I also discovered that he had purposely not been asking me any religious questions because he wanted to find out the truth for himself and not allow his feelings for me to sway him.
He was baptized, and we were married and sealed in the Hamilton New Zealand Temple a year later. He kept his promise to me to take me to the temple, and he still holds his covenants close to his heart. Six and a half years of marriage later, and we still have an amazing thing going. We have a son whom we cherish, and we strive every day to teach him the gospel of Jesus Christ.
I’m glad that I didn’t let my first impressions of Kurt become my last. He’s not the same person I first met. I’m glad that I trusted him and the Spirit’s guidance in our relationship. And I’m grateful that I stood up for what I believed in, for myself and my future family. I knew I wanted to be sealed in the temple, not just because it’s the “right thing to do,” but because the covenants we make, especially in the temple, put us on a path that allows our family to grow, progress, and become eternal. As President Russell M. Nelson stated so eloquently, “Salvation is an individual matter; exaltation is a family matter” (“Salvation and Exaltation,” Liahona, May 2008, 10).

While pursuing his studies at age 18, he informed the university that he needed a two-year break to serve a mission for the Church. He was told that he could defer for only one year; deferring longer meant he would lose his place in his program. He decided not to serve.
A short time later, however, he heard President Spencer W. Kimball (1895–1985) proclaim during general conference that every worthy young man should serve a mission (see “Planning for a Full and Abundant Life,” Ensign, May 1974, 87).
“It was like he was speaking to me. It just went straight through me,” Elder Meurs recalls. He decided to serve, after all. One week before he left, he received a letter from the university allowing him to defer for two years.
Peter returned to school after his mission, but his missionary service, he says, was “the best education I’ve had.” The gospel taught him that “helping people be successful is the most important leadership principle.”