Gospel Story Finder

When I graduated from high school, I was an accomplished tennis player, and I was selected to travel around Europe on a great team. While in France, we often played on fast indoor courts. I played well the first month and won a lot of matches.
Feeling really good about myself, I left France with my team and headed for Austria. The first tournament was on slow red clay. Going from fast indoor courts to slow red clay was a dramatic change. For the first time—and the only time in my 40 years of playing tennis—I lost 6–0 6–0, a double bagel, we call it. It rocked my world. Unwisely, I dwelt on my deficiencies from the match for days. A week later I was still dwelling on the loss.
I began to constantly doubt myself. Every time I messed up, I told myself I wasn’t good at tennis. I would miss a backhand into the top of the net and say to myself, “Not again! Your backhand stinks. You can’t make a backhand. Why do you even play this game? You just stink.”
Then I had the opportunity to play tennis at Brigham Young University, and I thought it was the perfect time to reset. However, I quickly learned that the bad mental habit of self-doubt I had created wasn’t going away anytime soon. I was working hard physically, but I wasn’t working hard mentally.
The problem was that I didn’t know how to fix my habit. How could I develop the belief that I could improve when I constantly doubted my God-given ability to do so? And my doubts didn’t just relate to sports. I had often told myself I wasn’t a good student. As a result, I didn’t study well and therefore didn’t do as well in school as I could have. Receiving low grades just reinforced the cycle of self-doubt, negative talk, and negative performance. As I prayed and pondered about these things, the Lord taught me some valuable lessons that could apply in all areas of my life.
One of the most important things I realized is how dangerous self-doubt is. When it gets into your mind, it hinders your ability to fulfill your potential and undermines confidence. However, confidence and fear, or positive and negative thoughts, cannot occupy your mind at the same time. To break my habit of self-doubt, I needed to fill my mind with the belief that I could excel.
I started working on thinking more positively. President James E. Faust (1920–2007), Second Counselor in the First Presidency, said, “We develop our talents first by thinking we can.”1
But positive thinking by itself isn’t enough. I realized that because I have a divine nature and destiny, I can trust in God to help me improve in all areas of my life. And as I listen to the Holy Ghost, I can make good choices, develop my talents, and work to reach my divine potential.
What’s more, God wants me to become my best self as I strive to become like Him. As Elder L. Tom Perry (1922–2015) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles taught: “It matters not the size or the quantity but the effort we put forth to develop the talents and abilities we have received. You are not competing with anyone else. You are only competing with yourself to do the best with whatever you have received. Each talent that is developed will be greatly needed and will give you tremendous fulfillment and satisfaction during your life. …
“… We are instructed not to idle away our time nor bury our talents and not use them. We are expected to make our lives better through our own initiatives and efforts.”2
As I exercise faith in God, ask Him for guidance and help to fulfill my divine potential, and trust that He will help me, I gain trust, confidence, and a growing sense of self-worth.
Of course, that doesn’t mean things always work out the way you or I hope—you may not always win the game, the girl may not say yes when you ask her on a date, and you may not ace or even pass the test—but trusting God does sustain us through those circumstances.
The Lord also taught me that increasing confidence has a lot to do with how you talk to yourself. Every time I caught myself thinking or talking to myself in negative, reactive ways like, “Your backhand stinks” or “Don’t miss that backhand,” I would stop that thought and immediately replace it with thoughts such as, “I love my backhand” or “I am going to rip it down the line.” And instead of saying to myself, “School is tough; my classes are too hard for me,” I started telling myself, “I’ve got this; I can get good grades.”
It took some time, but everything started to change. I was playing amazing tennis (at least for me), and I was studying and getting better grades. More importantly, it chased out fear. This change in thinking was a continual work in progress, and I constantly battled to apply what I had learned. As my fear disappeared, my confidence grew.
The Lord also taught me that it was important to remind myself of my worth and potential when I started doubting or talking negatively about myself. I started thinking of short phrases that would remind me of my divine worth when I am under pressure or discouraged. Doing this is a lot like using a scripture or hymn to lift you up when you feel down or want to stay strong in the face of temptation—only personalized to your particular situation. When used at critical moments, doing this can flood the mind with positive, strong thoughts and instantly squeeze out any negative thoughts and emotions.
As an example, when I applied this process to my coaching, I was amazed by the dramatic increase in performance from the athletes I worked with. One was a U.S. Olympic mogul skier who was not ranked very high.
As I worked with her, she worked hard on training her thoughts to be positive and on using positive phrases to purify her thought patterns. As her thoughts improved, so did her performance. Eventually she was selected to join the World Cup touring team.
After the prequalifying races, this athlete was in fourth place. She told me after the event that when she had gotten on the chairlift to go up for her finals run, doubt had gotten into her mind. She began to accept her doubt, thinking, “It’s OK. No one expected me to do this well. My family will still love me.”
But then she caught herself and said: “No! Today is my day! I am making it happen today!”
And guess what? She ended up skiing faster than she had ever skied before and finished tied for first place.
Here’s the really cool thing: This doesn’t just work for skiing. You can think of personalized, positive reminders to replace negative thoughts when you struggle with grades or feel like you don’t fit in or that you are not worth much because you aren’t popular.
Dwelling obsessively on what we do wrong prevents us from maximizing our potential. It is one of the adversary’s greatest tools. But using language to build confidence and trusting in God to help you do your best no matter the result builds confidence in your abilities and chases away doubt. That concept has changed my life.
When we trust in God, we achieve our greatest potential because we become who He wants us to be. We can replace fear with confidence and pessimism with optimism as we strive to do our best.

While you are busy with all these things, prioritize dating and falling in love. After returning from my mission, I approached dating with seriousness. I went on dates to find someone with whom I could create a meaningful, celestial connection. Much like gospel conversion, finding an eternal companion requires faith, even without perfect understanding.

When I did find the love of my life, there was an undeniable connection that made time seem to stand still. I vividly remember being in the hallway of a Church building in Laie after releasing my 4-year-old Sunbeams students from our Primary class. When our eyes met, all the background noise faded: the squeak of shoes on the cultural hall tiles, the children with untucked shirts chasing each other, the aunties kissing cheeks, the bro hugs—everything went silent.

She was beautiful. I was instantly smitten. I walked home in a daze, threw myself onto my bed, and told my South African roommate, "I think I just met my future wife." Over the next few days, after a few more encounters, we became inseparable. Mostly, it was about the talking. We spent a lot of time just walking and talking, just face-to-face conversations. Sitting on a bench, walking on the beach, going on hikes. One-on-one, uninterrupted time, listening and just being together.

As romantic as all that sounds, and as spiritually reaffirming as those moments were, I still had some roadblocks to overcome before I could fully embrace the important commitment of marriage. Like Joseph F. Smith’s childhood trauma, I had my own experiences that I had to reconcile—witnessing the impact of divorce, death, alcohol, drug abuse, and other hardships. We dated for a year and a half, and in the 1990s, it felt like everyone was asking, “What are you waiting for?”

Honestly, “What are you waiting for?” is a crucial question. Here’s my answer: in life and relationships, time is always going to change things. People grow, situations evolve. So don’t fear the inevitability of change. A static or unchanging partner is not only unrealistic, it’s boring. The key is to accept that change is inevitable and find someone—and be someone—who can navigate an uncertain voyage through the eternities with you.

Rebekah and I have been married for almost 28 years now. The voyage has been amazing, but like any journey, it comes with both calm seas and stormy weather. Sometimes those rough waters can be unsettling, but we chose to ride the waves of life together, and it’s rewarding.

The unpredictable waves of marriage might seem intimidating, but they’re far better than staying anchored in the harbor, endlessly scrolling, caught in a cycle of questioning, doubting, and fearing the eternal voyage. Unfortunately, many voices out there discourage people from embarking on the journey of marriage, fueling fears and promoting self-centered priorities. But constantly focusing inward only leads to loneliness. Be courageous, be brave—the voyage of marriage is a grand adventure worth embarking on.

I’m grateful I found the faith to overcome the relationship roadblocks from my youth because the outcome has been eternally significant. Rebekah and I have created an ?ohana together—not just as a couple, but as parents. While raising our children, we studied at different universities, supported each other’s careers, and built an ?ohana I am deeply proud of. Marriage accelerates growth. Yes, it can be challenging, but the growth that comes from it is incredible.

When I was younger, I had trouble falling asleep each night. It was frustrating to be so tired and still not be able to rest.
I talked to my parents about my struggle, and they suggested I switch out my pillows, move my head to the other side of the bed, and not be near any electronic devices before bedtime. But even after following their advice, I still couldn’t sleep!
Then my dad gave me one more suggestion that changed everything. He said, “When you say your nighttime prayers, just talk to Heavenly Father.”
So night after night, I began talking to Heavenly Father about my day. I would start with when I woke up and talk about everything that happened until right when I was in my bed. I told Him about people I saw, blessings I was grateful for, how pretty it was outside, and things that made me feel happy. I also told Him about things that were sad, like if I hurt my leg or made a mistake.
I wasn’t able to fall asleep right away, but I noticed that my relationship with my Heavenly Father was strengthening. He listened to me. He understood my high points and my low ones. He helped me feel calm enough to eventually fall asleep each night.
I am so grateful I could talk to Heavenly Father during those sleepless nights. I know He loves me and helps me, even with small things like helping me sleep.
Alyssa B., 19, Virginia, USA

The winter of 1846–47 was a busy one for the Saints at Winter Quarters. Plans were made for the next leg of their journey west. Supplies were gathered, old wagons repaired, and new ones built. It was decided that one company of men would leave in the spring to choose the best trail for those who would follow. By traveling without the elderly, the sick, or many children, they could travel faster. President Young picked the 144 men who would make the journey—twelve for each of the twelve tribes of Israel. One man, however, got sick shortly after leaving and returned to Winter Quarters, so the Pioneer Company consisted of 143 men (8 of them members of the Quorum of the Twelve), 3 women, and 2 children.
The men in this first company were skilled workers who could build and repair wagons, take care of the animals, hunt for food, keep accurate records, repair tools, build ferries, and lay out a new community and plant crops. They took with them a leather boat called the Revenue Cutter, 70 wagons and carriages, 93 horses, 52 mules, 66 oxen, 19 cows, 17 dogs, some chickens, and a cannon on wheels, which usually traveled at the end of the wagon train.
William Clayton was the official camp historian. To help direct those who would follow, he and others kept careful records of the camp’s travel. In order to calculate the distance traveled each day, he tied a piece of red flannel to a wagon’s wheel spoke and walked beside the wagon, counting the times the wheel turned. This was a tiresome task, and he proposed the idea for a mile counter. Orson Pratt designed the machine, and Appleton Harmon constructed it. This device, called an odometer, tallied ten miles, then started over. This made William’s job much easier.
It took the Pioneer Company 111 days to make the journey to the Salt Lake Valley. At first they traveled on the north side of the Platte River, through what is now Nebraska. The Oregon Trail was already established on the south side of the river, but the pioneers did not want to encounter old enemies who might be traveling west, and they hoped to find better grazing for their animals by staying on the less-traveled side.
Early in the journey, the pioneers established strict rules for their camp. When a bugle sounded each morning at 5:00 A.M., everyone was to arise and pray in his own wagon. The camp members then had two hours to cook breakfast, eat, feed their teams, and do other chores. At seven o’clock the bugle again sounded, and the company moved out. Each teamster was to stay near his team of oxen or horses. The other men in the camp were each to stay beside the wagon he was assigned to. All the men were to have a loaded gun in hand or within easy reach. No one was to leave his post without the permission of those over him.
The wagons traveled in double file. In case of an Indian attack, they were to form a circle, the mouth of each wagon facing out, with the horses and cattle tied inside the circle. At eight-thirty each evening the bugle sounded again to signal everyone to pray and prepare for bed. This discipline helped the pioneers deal with many of the problems they encountered.
Frequently there was a lack of grass for their animals to eat. It was the custom of the Plains Indians to set fire each spring to the old, dry grass from the previous year. Doing so helped a new growth of grass get a better and earlier start. But the pioneers were traveling before the new grass was up, and the buffalo herds had eaten most of whatever grass was left, so the camp members struggled each day to find a place where their animals could graze.
To help the companies that would follow them, records were kept of where good water, grass, and wood could be found. The men worked hard to level the road to make later travel easier. But on the Sabbath they rested from their labors to partake of the sacrament and to worship God.
As they traveled, the pioneers left signs for those who would follow. One sign on a cedar post read, “From Winter Quarters, 295 Miles, May 8th, ’47. Camp, all well. W. Clayton.”* Another message left on a bleached animal skull read, “Pioneers camped here June 23rd, 1847 making 15 miles today All well Brigham Young.” Letters to loved ones were also sent with trappers or other travelers who were headed east.
Several times during the trip, the pioneers talked with mountain men. Jim Bridger discouraged them from settling all the Saints in the Salt Lake Valley until they knew if grain could be grown there. He didn’t think it could, and he offered a thousand dollars for the first bushel of corn grown. But God was leading the Saints. President Young told Bridger, “Wait a little, and we will show you.”
While camped on the Bear River, Brigham Young contracted mountain fever and became so ill that he could not continue to travel. It was decided that eight wagons and several men would stay behind with him and the rest would go on. But as the main group moved on, others were stricken with the fever. It was decided to let the sick rest while an advance company with twenty-three wagons and forty-two men led by Orson Pratt scouted out the best route through the mountains.
The advance party found the Donner Trail, made the year before, and began to follow it. The trail was very rough, so the men spent much of their time clearing trees and leveling the ground for those behind them.
On July 21, 1847, Orson Pratt and Erastus Snow went down Emigration Canyon ahead of the others to scout out the area. Having only one horse, they took turns walking and riding. A few miles from the mouth of the canyon, Erastus realized that his coat had fallen off the horse’s saddle. He took the horse and turned back to find it. Orson walked on alone and became the first of the pioneers to set foot in the Salt Lake Valley. He and Erastus returned to camp, and the next day the advance company entered the Salt Lake Valley and headed north.
On July 23 they traveled to an area near where the Salt Lake Temple now stands. Orson Pratt called everyone together and led them in a prayer of thanksgiving and of dedicating themselves and the land to the Lord. After the prayer, the men immediately went to work unpacking the wagons, establishing a settlement, and plowing the dry, hard land so that it could be planted. On that same day, Brigham Young and his group crossed Big Mountain. From its summit, President Young looked out of the carriage he was riding in and declared, “This is the right place. Drive on.” The next day, July 24, the last of the company arrived in the valley.
July 25, 1847, was the Sabbath. The Saints worshipped and gave thanks for their safe journey. It had been a long trip, and for many years Saints would continue to sacrifice to cross the plains—but at last a place had been found where The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints could prosper.

As a 14-year-old, Rick became fascinated with engineering design and seemed to have some aptitude for the work. He began researching design engineering and drafting. He read about it, talked to his school teachers and career guidance counselor, and interviewed engineers in his ward and stake. The more he learned, the more it appealed to him.
As part of his investigation he met a man who owned a small mechanical engineering firm. The gentleman was willing to hire Rick part-time in the summers. Rick found he really loved computer-assisted design. During his senior year of high school, he designed a piece of equipment that the company now produces and markets.

Annette Aagard was in the middle of a bad week. She felt overwhelmed. She did not need one more thing to do. Then why was she rushing off to become—of all things—a volunteer?
A couple of months earlier it had seemed like a good idea. She had signed up to donate a few hours each week to Great Oaks Village, a residential school for abused children in Orlando, Florida. She had been through orientation to assist girls between the ages of six and twelve. And now she faced her first assignment—all alone.
As soon as she walked into the dorm at Great Oaks, she heard someone say, “Hey, the new volunteer’s here!” Several anxious, wide-eyed little girls ran up to her and asked, “Are you our new volunteer?” And someone said, “Better be good or she won’t talk to you!”
By the end of that first evening in March of 1989, Annette knew why she had rushed off to become a volunteer. She learned that the word volunteer is like magic to these youngsters. It means that for a little while, someone has come to be family; someone has come to give love.
Annette loves to be a “big sister” to the little girls. She loves to walk and talk with them. “I not only learn from the things they say, but from the quick and easy way they trust, accept, and believe,” she says.
She tells about one particular evening. It was very quiet—most of the girls were restricted to their dorm rooms. So she took one little girl, Stosha, outside. It had just rained and the air was clean and quiet. They rode bikes for a little while and later went to the playground.
Annette explains, “Stosha is small and energetic and talkative. She loves the monkey bars. She would go across the bars and then expect me to follow her, which I had a hard time doing! I asked Stosha if she was going to try and skip every other bar the next time. She said, ‘Nope, I’m not going to try, I’m going to do it!’ This incident reminded me of President Spencer W. Kimball’s motto, ‘Do it!’ Sometimes we find excuses and whine and say ‘if … , but … , maybe … ,’ when we just need to believe in ourselves and do it.”

Phineas lent his copy of the Book of Mormon to his father, who thought it “the greatest work he had ever seen,” then to his sister Fanny, who declared it “a revelation.” Fanny passed it on to Brigham, who was more reserved:

“When the Book of Mormon was first printed, it came to my hands in two or three weeks afterwards. Did I believe, on the first intimation of it? … ‘Hold on,’ says I. … The mantle of my traditions was over me, to that degree, … it was almost impossible for me to see at all; though I had beheld, all my life, that the traditions of the people was all the religion they had, I had got a mantle for myself. Says I, ‘Wait a little while; what is the doctrine of the book, and of the revelations the Lord has given? Let me apply my heart to them;’ and after I had done this, I considered it my right to know for myself, as much as any man on earth.
“I examined the matter studiously for two years before I made up my mind to receive that book. … I wished time sufficient to prove all things for myself.”23

On another, later occasion Brigham further explained this reserve:

“Upon the first opportunity I read the Book of Mormon, and then sought to become acquainted with the people who professed to believe it. … I watched to see whether good common sense was manifest; and if they had that, I wanted them to present it in accordance with the Scriptures. … when I had ripened everything in my mind, I drank it in, and not till then.”24

“Examine,” “prove all things for myself,” “good common sense,” “ripened”—all certainly good, rational approaches, and characteristic of Brigham with his down-to-earth Yankee skepticism and his well-learned wariness of religious extremes. But just as characteristic, though more hidden perhaps, was his need and desire to “apply his heart” to these new and attractive teachings, and after about a year and a half, that is how he was finally moved to action. He was visited by a group of Mormon missionaries from Columbia, Pennsylvania, one of whom sat him down and bore his testimony to him:
“When I saw a man without eloquence, or talents for public speaking, who could only say, ‘I know, by the power of the Holy Ghost, that the Book of Mormon is true, that Joseph Smith is a prophet of the Lord,’ the Holy Ghost proceeding from that individual illuminated my understanding, and light, glory and immortality were before me. I was encircled by them, filled with them, and I knew for myself that the testimony of the man was true. … My own judgment, natural endowments, and education bowed to this simple, but mighty testimony. … It filled my system with light, and my soul with joy.”25

For example, Cristopher Tena, a senior from Los Angeles, California, was tasked with organizing volunteers for meal delivery to quarantined students who were unable to leave their apartments. During our peak infection period last semester, this team of volunteers was responsible for delivering food to 300 students twice a day. On snowy days you could spot them loading food into vehicles that they had named "Santa's Sleigh" and "The Polar Express.”

When speaking of these student volunteers, Cristopher said, “They were examples of selfless service. They did not need to know the name of the individuals they helped. They did not need a reward. Instead, they saw an opportunity to serve and did just that. I can speak for those [volunteers] when I say that their favorite part was the distant thank you they would hear from behind closed doors as they walked away.”

Want to have a ball? The Mission Viejo California Stake did and decided to recreate Nauvoo of the 1840s as the setting. A likeness of Joseph Smith’s Mansion House was erected, along with the Nauvoo Temple, the Times and Seasons print shop, a gun shop, and various lampposts, street signs, trees, and shrubs. During that time period, the Prophet Joseph Smith owned a half-interest in a riverboat called the Maid of Iowa, which was often used to bring guests to Nauvoo for social affairs, so a stage-size “riverboat” was built for the ball. After some dancing, the ball participants were addressed by a master of ceremonies in his Nauvoo Legion uniform. He announced that the Maid of Iowa was about to dock, bringing the belles for the ball. Then each young woman stepped off the boat, curtsied, received a bouquet of baby carnations, and continued down another ramp to stand on the steps of the “temple,” where the arriving belles sang a song. Their fathers then claimed them for a dance, and they all enjoyed a delightful evening of music and fun in their imaginary Nauvoo.

One Sunday, as my husband and I sat in fast and testimony meeting with Chris’s older brother, Jeremy, fear continued to engulf me. Chris had been hospitalized again with a fever and low blood counts. We were new in our ward, and very few people knew of Chris’s condition. As I listened half-heartedly, a high councilman stood at the pulpit to bear his testimony. He talked about his love for some of the youth he’d met in another ward in our stake. He talked about how three of the priests there had shaved their heads for a friend who had cancer. Then his voice broke slightly when he said, “That boy lives in our ward now and is my home teacher.
“I wonder,” he continued, “if our youth would be that supportive.” The challenge was taken and met. That afternoon, our ward was graced by several very bald young men, including Chris’s older brother, Jeremy.
“One Sunday before sacrament meeting we were all lined up, and all of us were bald. The congregation just laughed,” Chris said.

Welcome to the butterfly garden. Please move slowly, pay attention, and do not touch the butterflies.
Later …
How was the butterfly garden?
It was quiet and peaceful. I was kind of stressed at school today, but being in the garden made me feel better.
That’s how I feel when I go to the temple. I leave all my worries behind. I feel God’s love there.
I can’t wait until I’m old enough to go inside the temple. Can we visit the temple grounds together?
Of course!
This story took place in the USA.

Every December, Katie helped Grandpa decorate his Christmas tree.
First, they put string through their needles. Then they made long popcorn chains.
Next, Grandpa got some cranberries, and they made cranberry chains too.
After that, Katie helped him mix peanut butter and birdseed together. She made bumpy round balls with her hands.
“Now it’s time to decorate,” they told each other. They put on their coats, boots, hats, and mittens and went outside.
Katie brushed the snow from Grandpa’s fir tree. She helped him twirl their popcorn and cranberry chains around it. They hung the peanut-butter balls from lots of branches.
When they finished, they hurried inside.
“This is my favorite part,” Katie said as they peeked out the window and watched the birds come to eat the tasty decorations.

My wife, Alice Mae, and I were serving as senior missionaries in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, USA. We were in the next-to-last month of our mission when the degradation of my motor skills became too much to ignore. Following the advice of the mission doctor and nurse, I went to a local hospital.
I had an EKG and a CT scan. Then a neurologist met with me. She asked more questions and did more tests. Finally, to my surprise, she said, “Mr. Lemon, you have Parkinson’s disease.” It was not a diagnosis I expected, and it was certainly not a diagnosis that I wanted. But what could I do?
That was two years ago, and it started a process I have since grouped into four phases. I share them here hoping they may be helpful to others who are dealing with an unwelcome diagnosis. Here are some of the things I have learned.
I searched online. I bought some books. I met with another neurologist. I wanted to know what impact Parkinson’s disease (PD) might have on my life span and ability to function. As I gathered information, I also prayed for guidance. I knew that Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ would help me to get the information and medical help I needed. I learned that PD doesn’t typically affect how long you live, but it does affect what you can do. It progresses differently from individual to individual. It gets worse over time. It is not curable.
Once the shock of the initial diagnosis passed, I gradually began to realize the disease was not going to go away. My wife and I talked about our future and what it would mean if I were to lose some of my mobility. What would happen if I couldn’t drive or walk? In one tender moment when I posed those questions to my dear wife, she answered simply and without hesitation, “Then I will take care of you.”
We were grateful we hadn’t waited to serve the Lord as full-time missionaries and that we had been able to serve while our health was still good. We were also grateful that we had moved into a smaller home with no stairs on the main floor, mostly hard floors rather than carpet, and grab bars near all the toilets and showers. We felt that the Lord had known we would need such a home someday and had prepared a way so that when we needed it, it was ready.
During the next few months, I spent a lot of time at home and had plenty of time to think. I grieved for the loss of the person I thought I would be in my later years. I grieved for the future that my wife and I had previously envisioned. I endured days of discouragement. I prayed a lot as my symptoms grew worse. My need to find positive ways of coping increased.
Then the Lord provided an unexpected source of support. My wife and I were called to be our ward’s welfare and self-reliance specialists. As part of our calling, we facilitated a group meeting on emotional resilience. I had not thought about needing the class personally. However, by the end of the first meeting, I thought, “Wow! This is for me!” We talked about avoiding negative thought patterns, being positive, controlling our feelings. It gave me some practical tools that, over time, helped me—and my wife as well—to develop a healthy attitude toward my disease.
I remember thinking one day, “If I was going to pick a disease for me, this would be the one.” Because at this point it doesn’t shorten my life, but it forces me to submit to the will of God. It’s given me no choice but to accept that, and that’s been a blessing. I am calmer, more at peace. I had always lived too much in the future, concerned about what the next chapter of my life would be. Parkinson’s disease has helped me to be content to live in the present, to do the good that I can do now. Gradually, I have learned to submit myself and my future to the Lord more completely and without reservation.
I studied scriptures that talk about growing from trials.1 I re-read talks and articles by Elder Neal A. Maxwell (1926–2004) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles.2 I remembered an address in which Elder Richard G. Scott (1928–2015) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles counseled us in times of trial not to ask, “Why do I have to suffer this?” but rather “What am I to learn from this experience?”3
Throughout this process, I have found a level of peace, joy, and contentment that had previously eluded me. I’ve come to see that death and passing through the veil is just another “transfer” on my journey along the covenant path. It is part of God’s plan of happiness.
I made a small sign on my computer and put it on the wall of my home office where I see it every day. It says, “Be Good. Do Good. Be Content. Relax and Trust the Lord.”
Today, at this point in the progression of the disease, I carry on a fairly normal life. I can still drive a car. We were recently called as temple workers. There are things I can do and things that I can’t. I walk with a cane when I leave the house. I get emotional over small things but also have become more sensitive to the needs of others. I’m not sure how my future will unfold, but I have the reassurance that whatever happens, the Lord will help me to endure it well and to find joy. It’s been a good tutoring for me, and I don’t want to miss the lesson.4

Years ago we took our then-teenage daughters to the temple for the first time. My oldest daughter had then the privilege of participating in the baptism of her deceased great-grandmother. Days later we held our family home evening and invited the children to bear their testimonies about the experience in the house of the Lord. As our oldest daughter started to express her feelings, tears came down her face when she mentioned her great-grandmother’s name and tried to describe how and what she felt during the ordinance. We all realized that she was recognizing right then that a “swelling motion” moment was taking place. That strong impression has been an anchor for her testimony and conviction of the gospel.

Tears stream down the missionary’s face. Watching the people he has taught come out of the waters of baptism, he feels weak with emotion as he listens to these new members pray. They thank their Father in Heaven for sending him to teach them the gospel. All the sacrifices he has made to come so far from his home have been worth it.
At another baptism, a young girl of 14, with tears in her eyes, hugs the sister missionary who has taught her the gospel. Even though this missionary had to leave her home thousands of miles away to serve a mission, it has been worth it.
Two missionary stories with the same emotion and the same sacrifice. It may be surprising to learn they took place 150 years and an ocean apart. The first missionary was Addison Pratt, who baptized in 1844 the first members of the Church in the Pacific not far from Tahiti. The second missionary was Barbara Nauta, a native Tahitian, who left her island home to serve a mission in Canada in 1993.
For as long as the Church has been organized, missionaries have been willing to sacrifice to serve the Lord, and new members are grateful to them. And particularly in Tahiti, missionary work has come full circle. Young islanders are leaving their homes and serving missions on other islands as well as around the world.
Exactly 150 years ago the first missionaries ever called to serve in an organized foreign-speaking mission started their missions in what is now French Polynesia, the most well-known island being Tahiti. Their mission call came from the Prophet Joseph himself.
Getting to Tahiti and surrounding islands was no easy matter. It took almost a year of traveling. Those first missionaries, Addison Pratt, Benjamin F. Grouard, Noah Rogers, and Knowlton F. Hanks, had to literally sail around the world to get there. They had to travel on land to the East Coast to find a whaling ship going to the Pacific. They crossed the Atlantic, where Elder Hanks, suffering from ill health, died and was buried at sea. They rounded the Cape of Good Hope, crossed the Indian Ocean, passed the islands of Southeast Asia, and landed first at the island of Tubuai, just south of Tahiti. It was nearly a year after they had left Nauvoo that they found islanders eager to welcome the missionaries. Elder Pratt was immediately popular because, years earlier, as a sailor, he had visited Hawaii and learned a little of the Hawaiian language. The people of Tubuai could understand him.
Within a few years, there were hundreds of members of the Church on several islands around and including Tahiti.
Eight years later, the government asked the missionaries to leave. For 40 or so years, the mission was closed, but a core of members stayed faithful. Then, when the mission was reopened, came a hundred years of growth. It started slowly but picked up speed and really started to boom. Today, with four stakes, Tahiti and its neighboring islands have a temple, dozens of chapels, and scores of young people serving missions and many more preparing to serve as soon as they are old enough.
Just like those missionaries 150 years ago, young Tahitians look to the Lord to guide them as they serve. For example, Barbara Nauta, who grew up in Tahiti, served in the Canada Toronto Mission. She said investigators in Canada were amazed that she had left her warm Pacific island to learn another language (Barbara, who speaks French and Tahitian, had to learn English) and suffer in cold and snow. They asked her why. “I told them the Lord sent me here,” she says.
French Polynesians today still know the names of those first missionaries of 150 years ago. They also keep the names of other missionaries treasured in their memories—especially the missionaries who first taught them the gospel.
For 17-year-old twins Titaina and Titaua Germain, from the Haumi Branch on the island of Moorea, those special missionaries are Elder Nelson and Elder Snowden. The twins, who share everything including remarkably similar faces, said, “When the missionaries explained to us about the principles of the gospel, we were truly astounded. It was as if we had dreamed of meeting people who lived like this and a church that worked like this one.”
The twins have to wait until their 18th birthday to be baptized, but they attend all their meetings and institute classes besides. “We were both interested from the moment we heard about the gospel from Elder Nelson and Elder Snowden,” said Titaina. Or was it Titaua? “We feel the same about things.”
There are living, breathing pioneers in French Polynesia. For Lianna Tarahu, 14, of Hapiti, she needs look no further than her grandparents. They joined the Church many years ago and remember with fondness Elder John Fuhriman, the missionary who taught them.
Because of her grandparents, Lianna is the third generation in her family to be active. But Lianna, just like everyone, has to gain her own testimony.
“First of all, I was very blessed to be raised in the Church. My parents taught me all of my life the principles of the gospel. We have studied the scriptures together,” said Lianna. “There wasn’t a particular moment or one experience, but many things through the years that have helped my testimony grow little by little. Now I attend seminary and am learning a lot of wonderful things about the gospel. Because of seminary, when I serve a mission I will be much better prepared.”
Lianna is very serious about a mission. She said her favorite scripture is 1 Nephi 3:7 when Nephi promises to go and do the things the Lord commands. [1 Ne. 3:7] Lianna says, “This promise is one I make also.” When asked what she will do if she is called to a faraway place, Lianna hesitates. She is the oldest of 11 brothers and sisters. She will miss her many family members and they will miss her. She says, “It would make no difference. If the Lord calls me to America, to London, or to Bora Bora, I will serve.”
Taped in the front of Lianna’s scriptures is a copy of the standards booklet For the Strength of Youth. Of course, her copy is in French, so it’s called Soyez Fort, “Be Strong.” She looks at it often.
Is it difficult for her to follow the standards? Lianna gives one example. “It is very hot here, but we are told to be modest and wear dresses and blouses with sleeves,” Lianna says. “Sometimes it is difficult, but the standards are good and protect us. We learn about dating and courtesy and many things we need to know to be Saints.”
Stelio Mauahiti lived next door to an attractive building in Paea on the island of Tahiti. He was told it was a church, but he didn’t really know what kind of church. The grounds were always neat, and people seemed to come nearly every day to participate in a variety of activities. On Sundays, he could hear the singing as the doors and windows were always open. Other days, he watched boys near his own age play basketball on the outdoor court. He paid particular attention to the two young men who wore white shirts and dark trousers.
Soon he was playing basketball with them. Then he started to listen to what they had to say. He and his mother agreed to be taught the gospel. At their baptism, Stelio made up his mind to serve a mission someday.
That day has come. Elder Mauahiti was called to serve in the French Polynesia Mission. One of his first assignments was to the village of Uturoa on the island of Raiatea. Mission life is very different from his life before his mission. Now he is the young man in the white shirt and dark trousers. Now he is the one who plays basketball on the outdoor court with those who are wondering about the Church. Now he is the one who does the teaching.
Best of all, Elder Mauahiti sees the same thing happening to his people that Elder Pratt saw 150 years ago. He’s seeing people change for the better. “I have seen the difference between the homes of members and the homes of nonmembers,” says Elder Mauahiti. “I have seen lives changed, hearts touched by the Spirit. I know that it’s not me who makes the difference, but the Spirit of the Lord working through his missionaries.”
Instead of missionaries just coming to French Polynesia, now many young French Polynesians are serving missions. Take, for example, Alona Losamkieou. She left her lovely island of Raiatea in the Pacific and traveled to a far-off land—Salt Lake City—to teach the gospel to visitors on Temple Square. She is just one young French Polynesian missionary following the example set 150 years ago by those first missionaries to the Pacific. Missionary work has come full circle.

A woman in my stake fought a battle with cancer. Although she endured pains and heartache that few people understood, she remained cheerful and optimistic. She lost her hair and, after spinal surgery, wore a metal brace to immobilize her head. As embarrassed as she must have felt by her appearance, she came to church meetings and smiled and tried to cheer up everyone else.[25] She wrote her own obituary, which, in part, reads: “Today at the young age of 33 I left this mortal existence to a holier sphere. I was born . . . to wonderful parents . . . who taught me to live life well. . . . We have three sweet children who I will miss greatly. At the young age of 29, I was introduced to something called cancer. Cancer was my great adversary but I have learned that in this life our enemies can become our choicest friends; the secret is in learning what to do with the conflict.”

Illustrated by Sal Velluto and Eugenio Mattozzi
Wilford Woodruff traveled across the United States several times as a leader in the Church. One time he stayed overnight in Indiana on his way to meet with the Saints in Boston, Massachusetts.
Wilford: I think we should sleep here tonight. I know of some brethren who will let us stay with them.
Wilford, his wife, and one of their children decided to sleep in the carriage.
Wife: It looks like all of the other children are settled down in the house for the night. Good night, Wilford.
Wilford: Good night.
Not long after getting in bed, Wilford heard a voice tell him to move his carriage.
Wilford: I have to move the carriage.
Wife: What for?
Wilford: I do not know. But I do recognize the voice of the Spirit, and it’s telling me to move.
Wilford moved the carriage forward. About 30 minutes later a sudden whirlwind blew a nearby oak tree over. The huge tree was snapped into pieces and crushed two fences.
When the Woodruffs’ hosts and children came out to look at the damage, they noticed that the tree had landed right where Wilford’s carriage was parked before he moved it.
In the morning the Woodruffs were able to safely continue their journey, and they went on their way rejoicing.
Wilford: By obeying the revelation of the Spirit of God to me, I saved my life as well as the lives of my wife and child.

The responsibility of an apostle of the Lord to try to be helpful to the followers of Christ is a very heavy one. I share an experience that helped develop my feelings about that subject.
Thirty-six years ago, on the day after I was called to the Quorum of the Twelve and sustained in general conference, I was alone in my home in Provo, contemplating the significance of that calling. Our youngest daughter, Jenny, then only eight years old, entered the room. As I looked at her with all the love I felt for her, I realized that she was only one of hundreds of thousands of little girls throughout the world, also children of our Heavenly Father, whom I was now responsible to try to help as an apostle of the Lord Jesus Christ. Contemplating that reality, I could not contain my feelings and did something I have rarely done in my adult years. I wept.

The Prophet Joseph Smith was our neighbor. We lived next to him on the corner of Main and Parley streets. He came to our house quite often for short visits.
One day my older brother, Wallace, and I were on our way to school. It had been raining the previous day and the ground was very muddy, especially along the street on which the building known as Joseph’s brick store was. Wallace and I both got stuck fast in the mud and could not get out. And, childlike, we began to cry. Looking up, I beheld the loving friend of children, the Prophet Joseph, coming toward us. He soon had us on higher and drier ground. Then he stooped down and cleaned the mud from our little heavy-laden shoes, took his handkerchief from his pocket, and wiped our tearstained faces. He spoke kind and cheering words to us and sent us on our way to school rejoicing. You can see why Wallace and I loved him.

Bishop Edgley: An experience I had with my Aaronic Priesthood quorum was on a Scout outing. We were sitting around a fire with my wonderful Scoutmaster, who was also the assistant deacons quorum adviser. A couple of guys who were not active in the Church were looking at some pornographic material.
The Scoutmaster stopped as he was talking to the Scouts and asked if he could have the magazine. He closed it and then told us how hurt he was, how troubled he was. Then he testified of the power of the priesthood when we honor it. He handed the magazine back, and that young man threw it in the fire.
That Scoutmaster taught us by the power of the Spirit about the priesthood. Of all the lessons I’ve had in quorums and chapels, I am still impressed by that experience.