Gospel Story Finder

We are members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. We were both baptized on the same day in November of 2015. We were among the very first few members of the Church here in Tamale. Some refer to us as “member pioneers”. We are proud to be pioneers here in Tamale and to now be “old in the church”.
The year 2014 was the year when the missionaries found us and taught us about the Church. We enjoyed learning even though we spoke no English. The Spirit testified to us both that the Church was true!
Our membership in the Church has blessed our lives so much. When we first joined the Church we could not understand, speak, or read English. We would come to church each week and we enjoyed being there, even though we did not understand English. The branch president would invite us into his office after church was over and explain to us the teachings. We were nurtured by the leaders and other Church members.
Soon we were introduced to the Church’s literacy program. The senior missionary couples were our teachers. I especially wanted to learn to read, to write, and to speak English so that I could do God’s work and also teach my family. Through the Gospel Literacy program, we can now understand, speak, read, and write English. I do not know what we would do without the couples who contributed so much to our learning, serving as our teachers, and helping us to develop self-reliance skills. Our couples were Elder and Sister Brinks, Elder and Sister Renfroe, and Elder and Sister Wight. Without these couples we would not have been able to accomplish so much, but with their help and with God’s power, we are better now!
We love serving in our branch where Abraham is the elders quorum president and I am the Relief Society president. I can give lessons now and read from the scriptures.
We love holding family home evenings with our children. We are learning from the Come, Follow Me manual and we also pray together. I read scriptures stories to them from the Book of Mormon and the Bible.
We are so happy that our family is sealed together in the temple. It made my heart happy when I read, on the outside of the temple, those holy words! When I went inside, I thought, “This is a small heaven”. I loved it!
Ministering is a big part of what we do as members. We visit and support our other members. We have many members of our branch now. They are coming!
God has blessed us too much! We are so happy to be members of the Church and as we look back at our lives and how they have changed and been blessed because of our membership in the Church, we are so grateful. Our progress has been small but now we have strong testimonies and we will never leave the Church, not ever! If you ever come to Tamale, we hope that you will visit our branch.

Our ward held a neighborhood pioneer parade on the 24th of July. We decorated bicycles, toy wagons, and strollers, then dressed up like pioneers and marched through the neighborhood. My family decorated a baby stroller to look like a covered wagon. Three-year-old Skyler wore pretend horns and was our “ox.” The parade made me feel like a real pioneer for a little while. My parents say that I really will be a pioneer to my children and grandchildren and that if I live the gospel, I will blaze a good trail for them to follow.

An early lesson in honesty was taught a boy many years ago by his father. When he was just a young lad, he went to the store owned by his father and two business partners and, wanting a pocketknife, proceeded to take one from the display case. Word got to the boy’s father. The father took the lad back to the case and had him replace the knife. Then he pointed out that he had two other partners in the business, and two-thirds of the pocketknife belonged to them. It was not the boy’s privilege, as his son, to take anything from the company because it was not all his. This father was honest and upright in his dealings; he was a man of integrity. When he made a bargain or a deal, he kept it regardless of what the cost to him might be. His reputation was for fairness with people. To him this attribute was more important than money.

Diego’s two-year marriage to an abusive woman left him shattered and semi-suicidal. In retrospect, he wishes he had paid attention to the warning signs. His wife had been in several failed marriages and relationships. However, their six-month courtship had gone smoothly, and he fell in love.

After they married, her behavior surprised and confused him. She would make critical comments about his appearance, and when he asked why she said those things, she would tell him she was joking and that he didn’t have a sense of humor. “There was a lot of verbal abuse and gaslighting,” he says.

There were also episodes of physical abuse when she spit in his face and kicked and scratched him. As with many victims, Diego tried to excuse his wife’s behavior. He told himself she was just having a bad day. He tried desperately to do things he hoped would make her happy.

“I would clean the bathrooms and cook dinner,” he remembers, “but I could never please her. The physical abuse was probably the worst thing for me as a man. I felt weak and powerless. Sometimes I would find a place to hide at work and break down and cry. I was the victim, but she made me feel like everything bad that happened was my fault. I felt guilty. Was she right? The sadness was incredible.”

He recalls: “I wanted our marriage to work. I prayed so hard, went to the temple, fasted, read the scriptures, and tried to grow closer to Heavenly Father in every way. Hope kept me afloat. I kept believing that if I was obedient, things would work out.”

Some people won’t respect those boundaries, however. Diego tried to set boundaries, but his wife continued to argue. “You can’t always reason with an abuser,” he explains. “And it’s very hard to stay calm when someone is verbally attacking you. Christ would have walked away or been soft spoken. I wasn’t perfect that way. I could have done better. I think you need a mediator—a Church leader or a therapist—to have a rational discussion.”

Diego talked to a marriage counselor and met with his bishop regularly. “I’m not sure I would have gotten through this experience without the help of my bishop, the most loving man ever. And the temple was my solace.”

Diego struggled to heal after his divorce but says, “I learned so much from the relationship and have grown in all aspects, which has made me a better man, father, person, priesthood holder, son, friend, and partner. I did everything in my power to make the marriage work, but it wasn’t to be. She had her agency and made her choice.”

“Let’s ride our bikes down by the stream,” I said to my friend Amy.
“OK. I just need to ask my mom first,” Amy answered.
A little while later we were happily riding down our street. The stream was just a few blocks from my home. A dirt path ran beside it. We rode our bikes to the end of the path, and on our way back we stopped to toss some rocks into the stream.
“Let’s race sticks,” I said. We both looked for a small twig to toss into the water.
“Ready, set, go!” Amy yelled. We threw our sticks into the water and watched as they floated around a bend in the stream and out of sight.
“I think you won,” I said.
We continued riding our bikes back up the path. I stopped to pick up a stick lying across the path and tossed it in the stream. Before I could spot where the stick had landed, a buzzing cloud encircled me. Within seconds, hundreds of yellow jackets covered my body. Chills of fear ran up my spine. I had stepped on their nest somewhere underneath the brush.
“Run!” Amy yelled. “They’re all over you!”
Just as I was about to swing my arms to try to swat them away, I had a strong feeling not to move. I remembered what I had been taught whenever a bee or wasp was on me: The best thing to do is stay still. They won’t sting unless they feel threatened.
Fighting the urge to run, I felt the yellow jackets crawl into my hair. They walked across my ears and up the sleeves of my shirt. My rapid breathing shook my body, even though I tried not to move.
“Hurry, Amy, go get my dad,” I stammered under my breath. My friend raced up the dirt path.
Suddenly, one of the yellow jackets stung my cheek. Shocked by the sharp pain, I jumped and screamed. The persistent thought remained: “Hold still!”
I continued to stay motionless as the yellow jackets crawled on me. I quietly prayed, “Heavenly Father, please help me escape the swarm. Please, please help me.”
A minute later, a wasp stung my other cheek. Startled once more, I flinched. My body trembled as I began to cry. Then the entire swarm flew away.
Worn out, I picked up my bike and walked up the dirt path as tears streamed down my cheeks. As I reached the paved road, I could see the relief in Dad’s eyes as he ran toward me. Sobbing, I explained everything that had happened.
“You were very blessed,” Dad said as he examined my cheeks. “What made you stand there so still?”
“At first I felt like swatting at them and running, especially when I realized they were crawling in my hair and clothes, but then I had a strong feeling to hold still,” I explained.
“That was the Holy Ghost, Kelly,” Dad said. “The Spirit gives us promptings so we will know in our minds and feel in our hearts what to do. It may not be what we want to do, but if we obey those feelings we will be protected from danger. I’m so grateful you listened and followed His prompting.”
Even though my cheeks throbbed with pain, I felt extremely blessed to be safe from the swarm.

If you’ve ever felt lonely because Latter-day Saint youth are in the minority at your school, imagine how Santosh Ramish, age 14, of Hyderabad, India, must feel. After all, he’s one of a handful of Saints in a country whose population is 750 million.
Almost one out of every seven people in the world lives in India, the world’s second most populous country after China. Eighty-three percent are Hindu, 11 percent are Muslim, and the remaining 6 percent are divided between Christians, Sikhs, Buddhists and Jains, in that order.
But does Santosh feel alone or discriminated against?
Not at all. “There is freedom of religion,” he says. “Although my school friends do tease me for not drinking coffee. It is a land of many languages, cultures, and traditions.”
That probably sums up Santosh’s homeland. India features 14 major native languages and more than 1,000 minor ones. He speaks two of his country’s 14 major languages, and is fluent in English as well.
When it comes to culture, many teenagers around the world would find the world of Santosh very foreign. People do not date in India. Youth socialize only with members of the same sex. Parties and dances for youth are unheard of, and husbands or wives are usually selected by agreements between parents.
But what if you fall in love with someone else?
“In India, you can’t leave parents or disobey them,” says Santosh. Even after marriage, a young couple often lives with the parents of the groom. These days, however, more and more couples are getting out on their own.
There are some things that form a common bond between Santosh and other teenagers all over the world. One of those things is the gospel. Santosh was introduced to the gospel through his uncle, Dr. Edwin Dharma Raju, who joined the Church in Samoa when he was on assignment from the government of India.
When Dr. Raju returned to India, he wanted his family to hear the gospel message, and he wrote to Church headquarters for missionaries to be sent to his family. Instead, Dr. Raju and his wife were sent on a short-term mission to teach the family themselves.
Santosh was eight years old when he and several family members accepted the gospel. The water storage tank on the roof of his uncle Henry’s building was scrubbed and painted to serve as a baptismal font. The men and boys who attended the baptism were dressed in traditional white, loose-fitting Indian jackets and trousers. The women were dressed in white saris, the standard dress of Indian women, consisting of a long piece of cloth draped over the shoulder and wrapped around the body. The newly baptized family was to form the beginnings of the branch in Hyderabad.
Santosh is now a teacher in the Aaronic Priesthood in that branch. He and his brother Sanjay, 12, and sister Sunitha, 16, are the only youth there, but they take a very active part. Santosh arrives at the mission home, where church services are held, a half hour early each Sunday to prepare the sacrament. He is always ready to give a talk or teach a lesson to any age group. Sunitha is the branch chorister and teaches a Primary class, and Sanjay takes on various assignments and is often the first one to bear his testimony on fast Sunday.
Santosh is also preparing for a mission. “I have thought a lot about a mission,” he says. “I used to dream of going to a very remote island or a place where I could convert and baptize everyone. Now that they are calling Indian youth to serve in India, I would like to serve a mission here.”
His dreams also include medical school, which is extremely difficult to get into in his country. Of the 50,000 students who take examinations each year to apply, only 2,000 will be accepted. Only those with the highest grades can enter medical school.
Santosh, like many Indian children, has been going to school since he was three. He will graduate at 17. In the meantime, he carries a heavy academic load.
His day starts before 6 A.M., when he hurries off for an hour session with a tutor. Since his classes at the private Christian school contain anywhere from 40 to 70 students, the time he spends with his tutor and four or five other students is essential.
He then comes home, prepares for school, reads the newspaper to keep up with current affairs, and then takes the bus to school. Once there, he attends eight classes, among them mathematics, physics, biology, and three different language classes.
Santosh is in the 10th class, where it is crucial to be one of the best students. He has even had to give up most of the sports he likes so well, like cricket and badminton, in order to excel. He has to take major tests every month and exams every three months to determine his position in college.
After school, Santosh does homework and a little recreational reading until it’s time for the evening meal at 8:00 P.M. At 9:00 he meets with his tutor for another hour and a half.
Although school takes up a major portion of his day, he still finds time for the Church and for scripture study. “I have a very strong testimony,” he says. “I thank my Heavenly Father for it. I know that the Book of Mormon, the Holy Bible, the Doctrine and Covenants, and Pearl of Great Price are companion scriptures and the word of God.”
That knowledge, plus the support of his family, are enough to sustain him in his minority religious status. “I hope I will have the strength to resist temptations,” he says. “I love this church, and don’t ever want to go away from it.”

Sometimes we may be a little fearful of sharing our testimonies, perhaps because we do not wish to offend or to be criticized. President Thomas S. Monson, First Counselor in the First Presidency, tells of a time when he faced the choice of bearing testimony or remaining silent. On an airplane flight, an off-duty flight attendant sat next to him reading a copy of A Marvelous Work and a Wonder. President Monson discovered that she was not a member of the Church. He recalls:
“I wondered silently, Should I be forward and say more about the Church? The words of the Apostle Peter crossed my mind: ‘Be ready always to give an answer to every [one] that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you’ [1 Pet. 3:15]. I decided that now was the time for me to share my testimony with her.”
This woman later joined the Church and thanked President Monson for sharing his testimony (see Ensign, May 1995, page 50).

Photograph courtesy of the author
My friend Laurie Wharemate Keung is Maori. I am of English descent. We have contrasting skin tones, eye color, hair color, and height. We couldn’t look more different. Yet one day while Laurie and I were serving children at a low-income school, a young Maori boy surprised us with a question.
“Are you two sisters?” he asked.
I chuckled, thinking his question was insincere. The boy, however, asked me again, “Are you two sisters?”
Realizing that he was sincere, I paused for a moment and wondered, “Could this boy not see the clear differences in our appearance and race?” Perhaps he did but thought it made no difference. He eagerly awaited my answer.
I told him we were not sisters, which disappointed him. But I added that we often felt like sisters as we served together. He seemed satisfied with that answer and ran off to his table.
This boy’s sincere question left an indelible mark on me. Why? Because his question spoke a truth to me—that family isn’t limited to genetics or appearance. My husband and I have been blessed to adopt two of our children. We love them, and love and service are an essential part of families.
After all, we are all children of our “one God and Father” (Ephesians 4:6).
I concluded that this boy must have been watching Laurie and me interacting. Maybe as he saw us helping or hugging each other, he assumed we were sisters. His question reminded me that children are always watching adults and forming opinions by what we say and do and how we treat each other. If this boy could assume we were sisters, then surely children across the world can assume we are all brothers and sisters if only we love and serve one another.
Our differences allowed Laurie and me to bring diverse strengths and perspectives to our charity work, making it more effective. Rather than let our differences divide us, we used them to do good and in turn form a close friendship. The young boy’s question can be a lesson for all of God’s children.

A little while ago I met a guy I had seen around school. We talked and got to know each other, and even though I’m only 14, we were soon “going together,” as our school calls it. The reason I decided to go out with him was because a lot of my friends were going with someone and seemed to be having a lot of fun. Besides, he was a few days from turning 16, and he was LDS too. Soon after, I remembered a Q&A in the New Era (May 1996) about dating and pairing off before you’re 16. I tried to rationalize it, but I couldn’t and the thought persisted. The article helped me end the “relationship” the very next day.
Name WithheldSalt Lake City, Utah

Elder Eyring: When I came into the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, Elder Richard G. Scott suggested I buy an inexpensive set of scriptures and mark the insights and revelations I would gain in my new calling. So I did. But I went a little further.
I asked Heavenly Father what He would have me do as an Apostle. I wrote down what I felt His answers were. I typed, color coded, and pasted those answers in the front of my scriptures. For example, the first one was “I am to be a witness that Christ is the Son of God.” Then I read my scriptures looking for ideas that taught me how to witness that Christ is the Son of God. Every time I came to something, I marked it in blue. Soon I developed my own topical guide around what I thought the Lord wanted me to do. I have learned much through this process.

Summers in San Antonio, Texas, can get hot, very hot. But this particular Saturday in July, the temperature was record breaking, well over 100 degrees Fahrenheit. And best of all—yes, best of all—most of the teens in the San Antonio Texas Stake were lost.
They had forgotten themselves, their own aches and pains, their own problems and worries, and even the heat. They were lost in service to a group of children they would never meet face to face. They were refurbishing the play areas, grounds, and buildings of Providence House, a day-care facility devoted to children with life-threatening illnesses. Because of the children’s illnesses, the group would not be allowed to meet those who would benefit directly from their work.
For these teens, their youth conference was devoted to service, the true kind of service that is given with no thought of reward, even the reward that comes from seeing the smiling faces of children. They had chosen to dress modestly, even though temperatures had virtually never been higher. They chose to work outside or inside until every job was finished. And they chose to work with an attitude that they hoped would please their Heavenly Father.
The adult leaders took every precaution. They made sure teens had plenty to drink and were taking rest breaks in the shade or inside in the air conditioning. They even broke out a shaved-ice machine to serve plenty of cooling, flavored ice. They had also worked carefully with the director of Providence House in identifying exactly what needed to be done so the correct materials and tools were on hand.
Carol Bova-Rice, the executive director of Providence Home and Family Services, said, “I cannot find the words to express our appreciation. Other groups have offered to help, but they didn’t want to do big things. With this group, we planned what really needed to be done in advance, no matter how big. It’s wonderful.”
Taking their theme from the scriptures, the stake youth council agreed on the title “Mission Possible.” They liked the idea that individually they could not accomplish much but “with God all things are possible” (Matt. 19:26). They were particularly excited about combining the usual youth conference dances and barbecues with an outstanding service project. They wanted something substantial so the teens could really pull together to accomplish something big, something that would be memorable, and something that would teach a great lesson of Christlike service.
Hannah Clark, one of the teen co-chairs of the youth conference, explained, “There are some people that need our help. That’s where we need to come in and be like Christ. We need to serve. That is the pure love of Christ. It’s charity. That is the way to do it, by serving, even if we can’t see them and even if we don’t even know who they are. We are becoming more the way that we should be when we do those things.”
“We’ll have to visualize the children coming in,” said Chris Weirich, another youth co-chair, “and seeing the new things in a room, the new murals, all the new materials, the repainted play equipment, the new grow boxes; you just have to visualize it. You won’t see them, but you can still feel their excitement.”
On youth conference Saturday, Providence House was bustling. Everyone was assigned a group, and each group was assigned a job. Because of the red T-shirts issued for youth conference, the scene was literally a sea of moving, shifting colors. Everyone had a cleaning rag, a paintbrush, a broom, a vacuum, a hammer, or a rake in hand. Every spot that needed cleaning was cleaned. Everything that needed a new coat of paint was painted. Every weed was pulled. Every toy was sterilized. Every shelf in the storage closets was stacked with donated food or supplies. The San Antonio Stake youth had indeed taken on the big things.
Even as hot and tired as they were, by early afternoon nearly everything had been finished. The group returned to the stake center for a testimony meeting. One after another, they spoke about the things close to their hearts, about giving service without complaint, about how positive they were about the truthfulness of the gospel of Jesus Christ.
Sandra Clark summed up how she felt, saying, “I’ve never been so sore and so happy with everything that’s going on around me. So many things were done with the right spirit this weekend.”

Ever wonder how we come up with the Mormonads? The Mormonad on page 13 started when we were trying to think of something that represented just how dangerous pornography is. We remembered seeing photos of crocodiles with just their eyes showing above water. The words Just Looking? seemed to fit exactly.
What was underneath? Of course, it was a big set of scary teeth that can clamp onto to you and not let go—a good illustration for what pornography can do.
We gave the idea to our designer, who sent a photographer to the zoo to take a photo of ominous crocodile eyes. Then he used his computer skills to make the teeth visible underwater and to make them bigger and more vicious than reality. We thought it made a great Mormonad that gives you something to think about.

President Romney taught of the testimony-strengthening power of scriptures with this personal example:
“I urge you to get acquainted with [the Book of Mormon]. Read it to your children; they are not too young to understand it. I remember reading it with one of my lads when he was very young. … I lay in the lower bunk and he in the upper bunk. We were each reading aloud alternate paragraphs of those last three marvelous chapters of Second Nephi. I heard his voice breaking and thought he had a cold. … As we finished he said … , ‘Daddy, do you ever cry when you read the Book of Mormon?’
“‘Yes, Son, … sometimes the Spirit of the Lord so witnesses to my soul that the Book of Mormon is true that I do cry.’
“‘Well,’ he said, ‘that is what happened to me tonight.’”

Just as Joseph could not possibly have understood why the Lord needed him in Egypt, as a slave and then a prisoner, we may have experiences that, without faith and humility, make little or no sense to us. Margaret and I had just such an experience about nine months after returning from our three years presiding over the England London Mission. Reflecting on these unusual events is extremely humbling, as it shows that the Lord trusted us to trust in Him, even though we could not see the divine destination where He would lead us. Let me share the events I’m referring to.

Before leaving for London in July of 2000, Margaret and I sold our Boston home, as we planned to retire to Utah after our mission. But near the end of our mission we felt strong promptings to change our plans and return to Boston to continue my career at Harvard for a few more years. Because we had sold our family home, we needed to find a place to live. After an extensive search, we purchased a small home; just right for the two of us, about a mile from where we had lived for over 20 years before our mission. We moved into this home and immediately went to work, renovating and improving it like we had done to prior homes several times before. For the next eight months, we lived there comfortably.

Then, one Sunday afternoon, while waiting to meet with the Stake President, I received a strong impression from the Spirit that we needed to move. I was shocked! Another move was not in our plans and it made absolutely no sense, given my limited perspective. Yet I knew I had been told that we needed to move!

After my meeting that afternoon, I drove down the street we had lived on for so many years before our mission. I hadn’t been on that street for nearly four years. But as I followed the gentle guidance of the Spirit, I noticed a home for sale across the street from the home we had raised our family in. The thought quickly crossed my mind – “I wonder if that is the house the Lord wants us to buy.”

For two weeks I pondered the impression I’d had, wondering why we needed to move. Unable to make sense of it, but trusting in the Lord with faith and humility, I concluded I just needed to act upon the prompting, and so I told Margaret what had happened. She, too, was shocked, but we both felt we should do as the Lord had prompted, so we put our home on the market and began looking for another.

After a few days of looking, we felt that the house across the street from our previous home was the one we should buy. Now if you knew the Boston housing market, especially at that time, you would have known as I did that this was not a wise financial decision! We had been in our other home for less than a year, and now we were selling it and buying a home larger than the two of us could need, but we felt strongly prompted that it was what the Lord wanted us to do. We were grateful for the Lord’s guidance, even if we did not understand it.

The day after we moved in, Margaret walked next door to the elderly neighbor she had been acquainted with when we had lived on this street before our mission. You might say that Margaret engaged. She knew that this 80-year-old woman, Barbara, had been raised in the Church but had become inactive in college and hadn’t been back to church for over 60 years. When Margaret entered her kitchen that morning, Barbara threw her arms around her and began telling her about her 40-year-old daughter, Karen. Karen was dying of stomach cancer, and she and her husband were now living with Barbara so she could help with Karen’s care.

Before Margaret could even think, she opened her mouth and said, “Barbara, do you think that Karen would like a priesthood blessing?” Without hesitating, Barbara said, “Yes, I know that she would.”

That night a close friend from the ward joined me and we gave Karen a priesthood blessing. It was then that Margaret and I began to understand why the Lord needed us to buy the house next door to Barbara and her dying daughter. A mile away would not have been sufficient for what the Lord needed us to do. Our trust in the Lord had created an amazing opportunity for us.

Within a week, we started sharing the gospel with Karen. She had always wondered about the Church because she knew that her cousins in Utah were members and they were always so happy. We visited with her almost daily, teaching her and comforting her and her mother in any way we could. Karen started attending church with us and loved the people in the ward and everything she was learning. She felt like she was coming home! Within a couple of months she was baptized.

Karen said that the day she was baptized was the happiest day of her life. Even though she only lived three months after her baptism, and she was in daily pain, she was filled with joy and happiness and peace from the Lord. Those last few months of her life were truly a gift from the Lord to her and all of those around her.

We felt in a very small way like Joseph of Egypt. We didn’t know the Lord’s plan, but we trusted Him. And with His guidance we were able to help save a small family struggling with spiritual hunger at a critical time in their lives. That experience became a milestone in all we had learned previously about trusting the Lord.

While at church one Sunday, my daughter Baylor studied the cover of the sacrament meeting program. She really liked the picture of Jesus Christ wearing a red robe. She said that He looked so kind. After church she cut out the picture and put it in a frame in her room so that she could always look at it and remember to try to be like Jesus. When her friends come over to play, she shows them the picture. In this photo she is holding a drawing of her room, including the picture of Jesus on top of her chest of drawers.

At Christmas time we often hear people talk about already being in the Christmas spirit or not yet. The prospect of a white Christmas, a visit to a Christmas market and preparing presents or that special Christmas feast are popular ways to summon that legendary festive cheer.
Unfortunately, the actual meaning of Christmas is often lost along the way. I was able to learn this lesson very intensively on my mission. In December 1997 my companion and I were transferred to a small town in Wales and settled in together. There was a very small, loving ward there. We enjoyed our time there and worked hard, hoping to tell people about Christ. During the second half of December we noticed how all the companionships, in a virtually competitive atmosphere, reported where and how often members invited them for dinner. It almost seemed like a sport, cramming as many Christmas dinners as possible into the two Christmas holidays. Many of the more experienced missionaries spoke about how delicious the traditional Christmas dinner was and could hardly wait for that special day to arrive. Amidst all this gladness, my companion and I realised that we had not even received a single invitation yet. Something was wrong. But we did not want to impose ourselves either and kept hoping that someone might yet invite us for dinner. Nothing happened, while Christmas was approaching fast. Just before Christmas we held a zone conference, where all the missionaries serving in Wales came together. A wonderful spirit permeated that conference. But what mattered much more to us missionaries were our packages from home that were given to us. Giddily, my companion and I returned to our flat. Defying all my parents’ rules and admonitions on the package, I opened it that same night. It contained a few small presents, a letter from my parents and Christmas sweets. I was delighted! It was a great evening, with both of us enjoying the goodies received from home. With the small caveat that it was not actually Christmas yet.
Sadly, we had not received any dinner invitation by the 24th of December. To make matters worse, the 24th happened to be a preparation day and we had planned to play football (soccer) with all the other missionaries, after which everyone would go straight to their respective dinner appointments. We were very disappointed to learn that the other elders had forgotten to give us a ride to the event. My companion and I walked the streets of our town in the rain, just to kill time. We were anything but in the Christmas mood.
Tired and disappointed, we returned home in the evening to prepare a meal. I remember vividly stepping into our flat, the heating broken yet again and the Christmas packages from our families long unpacked and consumed. Gloomily, I stood in our living room, feeling very lonely and unhappy indeed. All I could do was turn on some Christmas music. So I did. Handel’s Messiah was on and my gaze wandered to a picture of our Saviour and older brother, Jesus Christ. A picture as it can be seen in thousands of missionary flats: taped to the wall crooked, without a frame. And all of a sudden, it was Christmas! I knew why I was here. I knew what we were celebrating and what really mattered.
I have celebrated many wonderful Christmases in my life and beautiful memories abound. That Christmas in Wales in 1997, however, has probably been my most intense Christmas yet. The real gift I received that Christmas was a more intense love for my Saviour and friend, Jesus Christ.

A convert was ministered to by personal example. As a young man, he said he spent his days lounging at the beach. One day, he said, “I saw an attractive girl in a modest swimsuit.” Amazed, he went to ask why such an attractive girl would wear such a modest swimsuit. She was a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and asked with a smile, “Would you like to come to church Sunday?” He said yes.

The Thordersons learned this one because they lived it. Even sports, which can pull some people away from family time, became a family activity under the 3F plan. Eric, the oldest, started the tradition by playing basketball in grade school, and the others followed him. Kurt said, “I just followed along because he needed somebody to play with. And then he went to junior high ball, and then high school, and that kind of dragged the whole family in.”
Jim agreed. “We all went to everyone’s games. Jed (the youngest) was practically raised at basketball games because we were involved in so many different leagues and stuff.” Julie, the only sister in the group, who is now on a mission at the Salt Lake Visitors’ Center on Temple Square, said, “Our parents were always there at everything we did, and so were the rest of us. If you went to all the different games everyone was involved in you were busy five nights a week!”
By supporting each other’s activities, the Thordersons realized that doing things together as a family really can be fun, and they learned about each other’s talents and likes so they could become closer as friends.

Seventh, avoid spiritual manipulation
When I was a freshman at BYU, a young man told me that it had been revealed to him that we were to be married. We had never even been on a date! I was confused! I called home and cried to my dad, “Do I have to marry him?” My dad simply asked, “Do you love him?” A big fat “no!” flew from my mouth. “Then why would you marry him?”

It is inappropriate to impose our own revelation upon others. In my meetings with apostles and prophets, I never heard them say, “God told me” or “The Spirit said to me.” I refer to these types of expressions as spiritual manipulation. They suggest that we are the only ones entitled to inspiration, leaving others to wonder about their own ability to understand the Spirit.

Please allow me to share with you an incident from my life where I refused for a time to look.

When I was not much older than many of you, my husband was enrolled in a demanding doctoral program at Purdue University far away from our families and familiar surroundings. We had two small children, very little money, limited time to spend together as a family, and we were having difficulty balancing the rigors of graduate school, family responsibilities, and church assignments. Does this situation sound familiar? Well, this daunting task began to take its toll, and I found myself feeling very overwhelmed with my responsibilities as a wife and a "stay-at-home mother." The feelings I felt were not necessarily unique to me or my circumstances. Many of you may experience some of these same challenges and emotions while you are here at BYU–Idaho.

After considerable contemplation, I remember asking my husband for a priesthood blessing. In this blessing I was promised that I could begin to better cope with my difficulties if I would exercise consistently, get more sleep, eat properly, have meaningful prayer night and morning, and engage in daily scripture study. The reason I remember so vividly the instruction I received is because I thought afterwards: "This is going to solve my problems? These are standard 'Sunday School' answers. Besides, I'm already doing some of these things." Does this attitude sound a bit hard-hearted? Maybe if the message had been to take a vacation to the beach, or sign up for an art class, or have my nails done, I would have been more receptive to the counsel. I guess I was searching for different solutions, and I balked at the banality of what I had been counseled to do.

I pondered the blessing, and over a period of time I came to know and understand that these inspired admonitions were plain and simple, yet profound. As I moved from casual observance to a more steadfast and heartfelt implementation of these principles in my life, I discovered a sense of emotional peace, a feeling of physical well-being, and a spiritual confidence that brought tremendous blessings to my life. Like those in Moses' day, all I had to do was to "look!"