Gospel Story Finder

There I was, sitting in my house with my aunt crying and urging me to read the book she had brought with her. She said she was scared for me because of my desire to be a member of the Mormon church. Although I didn’t have a good feeling about reading the book, my aunt begged me to promise I would. Torn between my loyalty to the Church and my desire to please my aunt, I finally consented.
That episode with my aunt was the beginning of a difficult summer during which I was presented with a test of faith—a test that nearly destroyed my testimony and my happiness.
My interest in the Church had been sparked the winter before, and with the help of a friend, I began receiving the missionary discussions at her home.
After my fifth discussion with the missionaries, I went to church. That Sunday was fast Sunday, and during the testimony meeting I had an overwhelming feeling of peace and warmth. I had never felt so much love in one room. That day, my testimony of the Church started to grow.
A few weeks later, I went to my first Mutual activity. The people there were so welcoming, and their actions set them apart from the other kids I knew at school. It was a fun activity that added to my fledgling testimony.
I had started to feel like I was on my way to building a strong gospel foundation, but my aunt’s visit really shook me up. Since I had promised to read her book, I did. I decided that reading the book couldn’t do much harm. Boy, was I wrong.
After reading the book I was confused and sad and didn’t know where to turn. To make matters worse, a friend of mine encouraged me to read more material that was critical of the Church. I found that much of the literature had little or nothing to do with the Church, and little of it made any sense. Now I had more questions than ever.
In search of some answers, my friend and I went to the temple visitor’s center. Two missionaries showed us videos and bore their testimonies. I asked them all the questions I had about the books I had read. The missionaries answered every single one.
Shortly after my experience on the temple grounds, I received my first priesthood blessing. The special feeling I had experienced in my first testimony meeting returned. I was awestruck by the power of the Spirit.
Finally, it seemed everything was getting back on track, except for one thing. My mom was trying hard to talk me out of going to seminary. Although it was difficult, I stood my ground. Seminary is important to me.
I can now relate to the pioneers who traveled across the country to Utah so they could practice their religion. I used to think, “Why would anyone give up that much just for a religion?” Now I know.
I know the Church is true, and I have been able to build my testimony ten times stronger through prayer and studying the scriptures.
Because of this trial of my faith, I have learned not to take the valuable messages of the gospel for granted. I can’t be baptized until I’m 18, and even though three years seems a long time to wait, I am happy to have the time to prepare. I cannot deny the feelings that the Church and the scriptures give me, and I cannot deny what I almost lost forever—my testimony of the gospel.

Another example involves a book group. For more than twenty years my wife Nadine and I have belonged to a book group with some friends. During the school year, we meet about monthly. We take turns: a couple chooses a book, hosts the book group in their home, leads the discussion, and serves refreshments afterwards. We have read books about gospel principles, biography, science, and other topics, and we have read novels and poetry. I had never heard of many of these books before, but I have enjoyed reading them very much.

If lifelong learning is a priority, you will choose your own ways to make time for it.

Wouldn’t you get a little nervous if your high school counselor suddenly and unexpectedly called you into the office?
You’d especially be nervous if you were Richard Aballay, a senior at a Catholic seminary in New York City. Richard had seen the LDS commercials on TV, had contacted the missionaries, and was baptized. He hadn’t yet mentioned it to anyone at the school, where boys are preparing to become Catholic priests.
“How are you doing in your subjects?” the counselor began politely on that fateful day in late October.
“Fine,” said Richard, cautiously.
Then the counselor jumped to his real concern. “Are you affiliated with another church?”
“Yes.”
“Which one?”
“The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.”
“Why?”
“I have come to know the Savior better in this church. I know this church is doing more for me. It is the church of God.”
As the counselor began to lecture, warning Richard that being a member of a different church was grounds for dismissal, Richard thought how easy it would be to say he’d made it all up. Then he could finish his senior year in peace.
“But I couldn’t do that,” Richard said later. “You can’t deny the truth when you have it.”
By the next day it was official: Richard had to leave.
The following week was torment, Richard said. But with much prayer, his family was able to find space for him in another good school.
“From that experience,” Richard says, “I have learned that the Lord will never abandon me.”
In fact, it gave Richard the chance to tell more people about the gospel, since his classmates wanted to know why he would leave school for his new beliefs.

Dewdrops hung on the tips of the long grass blades. Pam smiled as she made her way across the damp lawn. She loved early mornings in the country.
Stillness hung in the air. It was spring magic. She breathed in the sweet scent of lilacs. Everything was perfect.
One long, lonely howl filled the air.
“I’m coming, Lady,” Pam called, filling a bucket with water. She stepped inside the dog run and was immediately greeted by a wet tongue and happy barks. Trying to avoid Lady’s kisses, she filled the water bowl.
Suddenly, Lady ran to the gate of the dog run and barked.
Pam turned to see her best friend, Chuck, walking across the lawn.
“Hey,” he said. “You’re up early.” He reached over the fence to pet Lady. “My family’s going to an amusement park for the day, and Mom said we each could invite a friend. Do you want to go?”
Pam’s face lit up, but her smile soon faded. “I can’t. I promised Mom I’d watch my little brothers while she and Dad paint Grandma’s house.”
“Can’t someone else watch your brothers?”
She set the bucket down. “No.”
Chuck rubbed his chin. “Maybe your mom and dad could take them over to your grandma’s. Or maybe your grandma could watch them here.”
“It’s supposed to be a surprise for Grandma’s birthday,” Pam explained. “Dad took the day off from work so they could finish painting while Grandma’s staying with my sick aunt.”
“Oh.” Chuck’s smile disappeared. “I know it’s been a few years since you went to the amusement park. I thought it was a good idea.”
A sad smile crossed Pam’s face as she thought about the deep-red candy apples she loved, but wouldn’t be eating today. “It was a good idea. Thanks for inviting me.”
As Chuck said good-bye, Pam felt sad. No one had ever invited her to an amusement park before.
It was hard keeping her brothers happy all day long. They played with the dog. They rode bikes. They drew on the sidewalk with chalk. When her brothers grew tired, she put a blanket on the grass and read them the story of Noah’s ark.
Mom came home in time to put the boys to bed. Pam had never been happier to see her mom. Her brothers were a lot of work.
Glad for some quiet, Pam pulled a lawn chair off the porch and dragged it out onto the grass so she could sit under the stars. Fireflies swirled like sparks over the grass, flower beds, and trees.
“Hey there,” Chuck called from across the street.
“Hey, yourself,” Pam called back. “Did you get sunburned?”
Chuck laughed. “Yes, I did. It was awful. The lines were long, my favorite ride broke down, and the hot dog I ate was burnt. You didn’t miss much.”
“You’re just trying to make me feel better.”
“Maybe.” Chuck stepped into the dim light from the porch. “I thought you might be hungry.” Chuck pulled two deep-red candy apples from behind his back.
Pam’s eyes lit up. “Oh my! Those look great.”
Chuck grinned. “I’ll share, if you tell me why your family is so important.”
Pam knew what Chuck wanted to talk about. He wanted to hear more about the gospel and her belief in an eternal family.
He handed her one of the mouth-watering apples and then sat in the grass to listen while he munched on his own apple.
Somehow she had to help him understand that an eternal family was even more important to her than good friends and candy apples.

A true story from France.
Adeline finished drawing the last check box on her paper. Next to it, she wrote, Say prayers morning and night.
“What’s this?” Maman asked.
“I’m making a checklist for tomorrow,” Adeline said. “I’m going to have a perfect day!”
Maman raised her eyebrows. “Really?”
Adeline nodded. “In Primary we learned about being perfected in Christ. I’m going to be extra good so I can have perfect days.”
“I’m happy you want to make good choices,” Maman said. “But you know, there was only one person on the earth who was perfect—Jesus Christ.”
Adeline sighed. “I know. But I really want to try! I think I can do it.”
When morning came, Adeline was ready. She made her bed and said her morning prayer.
At breakfast, she helped feed her little sister, Sylvia. When Sylvia spilled her peaches all over her chair, Adeline took a deep breath. She counted to four and helped clean up.
At school, Adeline looked for people who needed help. Lucas had a sprained ankle, so she carried his lunch tray for him.
While leaving school, Adeline smiled her biggest grin at the lady who held the school gate open. The lady usually looked grumpy. But today she smiled back!
After school, Adeline gave Sylvia her favorite stuffed animal to play with. And before going to bed, she said a prayer. She checked off the items on her list and snuggled into her blankets. She felt very proud and very tired. She was ready for another perfect day tomorrow!
When Adeline woke up the next day, all her dolls were scattered around the floor. Sylvia was holding one and sucking on it. She must have pulled them all out!
“Sylvia!” Adeline yelled. “I told you not to touch my dolls!” She grabbed the doll Sylvia was holding. Sylvia cried and ran away.
Adeline glanced at her checklist on the door. Her heart sank.
Maman came in just as Adeline felt a tear on her cheek.
“What’s happened?” Maman asked.
“I forgot to say my prayer. I didn’t make my bed.” Adeline’s voice wobbled. “And I was mean to Sylvia. My perfect day is officially over!”
Maman gave Adeline a hug. “It’s very hard to be perfect all the time. Actually, it’s impossible.”
Adeline frowned. “But then how can I be perfect in Christ?”
“That’s just it! We can’t be perfected without Jesus Christ,” Maman said. “He gave His life for us because Heavenly Father knew we would make mistakes and would need help. Jesus takes our imperfect attempts and makes them better.”
Adeline thought about it. “So I can’t have perfect days every day?” she asked.
Maman shook her head. “No. You’ll have hard days. But you’ll have good days too.” Maman tucked Adeline’s hair behind her ear. “You trying your best is what matters. Even if a day starts out with a wrong choice, we can always say a prayer to repent and try again. With Jesus Christ’s help, you are enough.”
Adeline felt warm inside.
“Now, for your list.” Maman pointed to the list. “How about we just focus on one thing?”
Adeline looked at her list. She tore off part of the paper and taped what was left back on the door. The one item still there said, Say prayers morning and night.
Adeline smiled. “My day may not have started perfect, but I can still say a prayer now. And with Jesus Christ’s help, it will be enough!”

[The scene shifts and a spotlight focuses on CATHERINE ANN, who is in Salt Lake City living with her uncle. She is reading a letter that has just arrived.]
CATHERINE ANN: “We’re awful sorry, Miss Russell, to have to give you this sad news by letter. Your father was as fine a man as we knew, and the Order’s going to miss him. Enclosed is a letter he gave us for you just before he died.” [Opening the other letter] Oh, Papa! “My Dearest Catherine Ann, I think I will not see you again, so I must leave you my love on paper. You mustn’t sorrow much. Only look forward to us being together again when things get more permanent. It makes it easier for me to go—knowing that I can have again the people that I love. Don’t forget, my darling, all that really matters in the world are the people that you love. Your Uncle Alfred will let you stay with them as long as you want. He says you’re a fine influence, and that makes me proud. I am proud of you, Catherine Ann. One thing more. I don’t want you to feel guilty about leaving the Order. It wasn’t meant for people to be clear perfect in this life, just to be getting a little bit better each day. That’s what I hope for you, Catherine Ann, and I know you will. Just a little better each day. And when we’re all the way perfect, that’ll be heaven. Till then, I leave you my love and my blessing. Your Father.”
Oh, Papa! [Reading again] “P.S. Your necklace is under my mattress.”
[CATHERINE ANN presses the letter to her heart and looks up.]
Things aren’t very important, are they, Papa?
[She sings softly.]
A few lovely things that belong to just her
A girl can hardly do without.
Oh, I need—yes, I need—
[She breaks off, turns, and runs out.]
[The play closes with CATHERINE ANN returning to Orderville. She has resolved in her own mind what is most important in life and has decided that her love for MATTHEW is real. The couple approach one another for the first time since being separated.]
MATTHEW [hesitantly]: I was awful sorry about your father.
CATHERINE ANN [nodding]: Sometimes it takes bad things to teach us good things, I guess. [He doesn’t answer.] A man doesn’t take a lot with him when he dies. Mostly he just takes what he’s given away. I’ve been wondering if I’ll have as much to take as Papa did. Oh, I’ve been learning some things, Matthew.
MATTHEW [hopefully]: About what?
CATHERINE ANN: About love. About me—and you. [She holds out her arms to MATTHEW. He comes to her, and they embrace.] Oh, Matthew, I’ve come home.
MATTHEW: I’m glad. I’m awful glad.
CATHERINE ANN: And I want to stay right here. Here in Orderville. I told you there were lots of things I needed that the storehouse couldn’t provide. Guess there still are. But you’re the only thing I can’t do without. And there’ll be time for the others. Besides, I want to learn more about giving. And I can’t think of a better place to do it.

As part of my "summer of fun” canoeing I was blessed to take part in the N? Pali Challenge, which is a 37-mile canoe race down the N? Pali Coast of Kauai. The race consists of six women and six men. The two crews are changed every 30 minutes. To change the crews, you jump off the escort boat in the water in seat order and wait for the canoe to come “pick you up.” When you reach the canoe, the person in your seat hops out and you climb in. The race takes roughly six hours, meaning roughly six water changes. When you hop out, the escort boat comes to pick everyone up and you get a little rest until you do it all over again. If this sounds both awful and amazing, you are right!

For each water change we had a plan for how we were going to get off the escort boat, huddle together in the water, get into our canoe, and the pace we would set for the next 30 minutes. Well, you know what they say about the best laid plans! One water change we were grouped together and a wave came at the last minute and split our group, so half of us ended up on the wrong side of the canoe.

At another water change we hulied shortly after getting in the boat and I thought, so much for plans… now we are losing time and have to do the hard work of flipping the boat back over, bailing it, and getting back in. I remember thinking, this is hard, and I float pretty good. I wonder if anyone will notice if I just take off towards land. But as an answer to my prayers, the men’s crew leaped off the escort boat to help us, cutting their break short. Hats and sunglasses were lost, we all ended up with bruises and sunburnt, and it was amazing.

Even though we had a solid plan for what do to in most situations, some of the situations we encountered we couldn’t have ever planned for. Like in life, even the most well thought out plans can go out the window in the most marvelous of ways.

One of the most beautiful modern-day examples of meekness that I am aware of is that of Brother Moses Mahlangu. His conversion began in 1964, when he received a copy of the Book of Mormon. He was fascinated as he read this book, but it was not until the early ’70s that he saw an LDS Church sign on a building in Johannesburg, South Africa, as he was walking down a street. Brother Mahlangu was intrigued and entered the building to learn more about the Church. He was kindly told that he could not attend the services or be baptized because the country’s laws did not allow it at that time.

Brother Mahlangu accepted that decision with meekness, humility, and without resentment, but he continued to have a strong desire to learn more about the Church. He asked the Church leaders if they could leave one of the meetinghouse windows open during the Sunday meetings so he could sit outside and listen to the services. For several years, Brother Mahlangu’s family and friends attended church regularly “through the window.” One day in 1980 they were told that they could attend church and also be baptized. What a glorious day it was for Brother Mahlangu.

Later the Church organized a branch in his neighborhood in Soweto. This was possible only because of the determination, courage, and faithfulness of people like Brother Mahlangu who remained faithful for so many years under difficult circumstances.

One of Brother Mahlangu’s friends, who had joined the Church at the same time, recounted this story to me when I visited the Soweto stake. At the end of our conversation, he gave me a hug. At that moment, brothers and sisters, I felt as if I was encircled in the Savior’s loving arms. Meekness emanated from this good brother’s eyes. With a heart full of goodness and deep gratitude, he asked if I could just tell President Thomas S. Monson how grateful and blessed he and many others were for having the true gospel in their lives. Brother Mahlangu and his friend’s example of meekness truly influenced many lives for good—especially mine.

President Quashigah is grateful for the very practical truths that he continues to learn daily as a member of the Savior’s true Church. He remembers the very first time he attended Sunday meetings in the Aflao Branch. The lesson topic for the second hour was forgiveness. A principle that he was struggling with. After the lesson, he understood what he needed to change in his life to be able to forgive unconditionally. He testifies that the principles and doctrines of the Church continue to help him in all aspects of his life.

In 1875, Daniel reported to President Young that they were ready to start on their mission. Authorized by President Young, Daniel soon raised $500 to pay for the printing of the first set of Spanish selections.
In a later conversation with President Young, Daniel was asked how he proposed to prove to the satisfaction of the authorities of the Church—none of whom spoke Spanish—that the translation was correct. Daniel suggested this test: they would select a book, Brother Trejo would translate a passage into Spanish, Daniel would take the Spanish translation and, without looking at the original book, translate the text back into English. President Young accepted the suggestion, and when the Brethren received a copy of Daniel’s translation from the Spanish, President George A. Smith, then a member of the First Presidency, “laughingly remarked, ‘I like Brother Jones’ style better [than the original]. … The language is more easily understood.’”

I am aware of how one bishop marshaled his resources to assist a man who came to him for help. The man had been happily married for years, but because of a later addiction to alcohol and drugs he was left without a job, home, or family. Hard years of living on the street had degraded and humiliated him. With tears streaming down his face, he pleaded with his bishop for help.
The ward welfare committee discussed this challenge. One man knew a dentist who might be willing to replace the man’s broken front teeth. The Relief Society president suggested that nutritious food from the bishops’ storehouse might improve his health. Another suggested that this man needed someone who could spend time with him daily and help him find the strength to overcome his addictions.
As the suggestions streamed in, the bishop realized that an entire ward of concerned brothers and sisters stood ready to help.
Soon the bishop began to notice improvements. Priesthood brethren gave the man a blessing. A charitable dentist replaced his broken teeth. Food from the bishops’ storehouse improved his health. A faithful elderly couple agreed to serve as special home teachers. They were with him daily to help him stick to his resolve.
Following established principles, this good brother offered to help others in the ward. Slowly his life began to improve. Gradually the look of desperation and misery gave way to one of joy and happiness. Although it was a painful process, he was able to free himself from his addictions. He became an active member in the Church. A life of destitution and misery turned into one of hope and happiness. This is the Lord’s way of caring for those in need.

There was nothing particularly interesting about my feet, so I was a little confused when Nieves, a recent convert in Bolivia, said she was thankful for them.
“I’m so grateful for your feet,” she would tell us in the weeks following her baptism.
Nieves had readily received the restored gospel, but when we invited her to be baptized, she hesitated.
She explained that she suffered from a painful skin condition. When her skin touched cold water, it felt as if a thousand needles were piercing her pores. This condition prevented her from doing even ordinary tasks, such as washing vegetables or scrubbing clothing by hand.
We explained that the baptismal font could be heated, and we assured Nieves that she would be baptized in warm water. Her face brightened, and she chose to be baptized on Christmas Day. My companion and I told the branch president about her skin condition, and he said the font would be heated in time for the afternoon baptism.
When we arrived at the chapel for the baptism, however, the font had just been filled with extremely cold water! The frantic branch president explained that because of a miscommunication, the water would not be ready until much later.
My companion and I knew that Nieves wanted to be baptized that day, and we believed that the Lord desired the same thing. We found an empty room and prayed that He would help Nieves to be baptized.
We felt comforted after the prayer and decided to proceed with the service. Those who spoke before the baptism taught beautifully, but I was suddenly nervous when I heard, “Elder Nelson will now baptize Sister Nieves.”
I tried to hide my discomfort as I stepped gingerly into the frigid water. Nieves took my hand and lowered her foot toward the water. I braced myself for the worst, but Nieves did not shriek or even wince. She stepped calmly down the stairs and smiled up at me.
After the baptismal prayer, she lay back into the cold water. When I lifted her, she emerged grinning. I was filled with gratitude. To me, her baptism was a miracle.
The last time I saw Nieves, she said something that cleared up my confusion about her interest in my feet. She said, “I’m so grateful for your feet, which walked to my door and brought me the truth.”
I think of Nieves and her simple faith and gratitude whenever I hear these words of Isaiah: “How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings, that publisheth peace; that bringeth good tidings of good, that publisheth salvation; that saith unto Zion, Thy God reigneth!” (Isaiah 52:7; see also Mosiah 12:21).

I remember when I was young and leaving home for service in the U.S. Navy. My grandmother cautioned me that the Spirit of the Lord would not go with me into places where evil was. That fact was verified for me many times as my duties required that I be in places where evil ruled in the hearts of men. We, that is, our spirits recoil from evil, at least we recoil until we become so used to its presence that we lose our ability to be shocked by it, and in fact, become insensitive to its presence.

Goodness can be sensed just as evil, but because it is not shocking or traumatic, it is easier for us not to notice it. Yet goodness is powerful, more powerful than evil. Goodness is holy. It feels so good to be honest. And do we not all know the sweet relief which comes from being forgiven? Forgiveness is godly. Repentance is a major principle of the gospel of Jesus Christ, for it cleanses us and puts our spirits in tune with that which is good once again. Inevitably goodness witnesses of Jesus Christ, and our testimonies of eternal truths are strengthened.

For example, the witness of the truth of the Book of Mormon came to me as a young man because I developed the desire to be protected from evil by a shield of goodness. It was during World War II. I was a young sailor assigned to the Anacostia Naval Airbase in Washington, D.C.

One of my jobs was to help make training films identifying shapes and outlines of enemy ships and airplanes. These films were made in a large, barnlike structure containing a big flat stage and filled with models and outlines and forms and other devices.

Most of the time we were very busy, but there came a time toward the end of the war when we went for weeks without an assignment. Eventually, all the other personnel on this job were assigned to other tasks, but for some reason, I was left alone in the building, I guess to guard the equipment.

At first, I enjoyed my freedom. It was great to have nothing to do. All the electricity in the building was turned off with the exception of one outlet into which was plugged a small lamp, which sat on the corner of a table. There was a hard wooden chair where I could sit if I cared to. All the rest of the great building was in darkness. So for a few days I opened the door to the outside light and sat in the doorway on the old chair and thoroughly enjoyed myself. But before long I became immensely bored.

I had been raised in the Church by careful parents who had taught me the gospel, but I had never read the Book of Mormon completely through for myself. One day as I sat idle, I decided that this was an opportune time for me to read it. So that afternoon I brought my small serviceman’s Book of Mormon from my room and, desiring privacy, went inside the building and turned on the little light by the table and began to read. I remember how I was struck by those first words, “I, Nephi, having been born of goodly parents. …” (1 Ne. 1:1.)

As the days went by, I read every word. My soul, programmed as it was to goodness and truth, began to respond to the testimonies of the prophets. I had never had such an experience! I read slowly, prayerfully, savoring every word, wishing that it would never end. I had feelings in my heart that I had never been conscious of before. And when at last I read the admonition of Moroni at the end of the book, I felt a great desire in my heart to test his words, to ask for spiritual verification even greater than what I was then feeling. I remember shutting the doors of that vast building and locking myself in, then kneeling in the darkness on the cold cement floor, my forehead resting against the hard wooden seat of the old chair, and telling the Lord that I believed the words of Moroni, and asking him to strengthen my belief into knowledge.

I shall never forget what happened; I have felt it many times since. I became aware that I was surrounded by a power beyond myself, which came over me and through me. It was all around me, calm, clear, and indescribably powerful. It seemed white and delicious to me, like the fruit of the Tree of Life which Nephi told of. (See 1 Ne. 8:15.) It filled me completely and did not leave me for days after. It was not shocking or disturbing in any way, as is the power of evil, but was sweet and assuring to my soul. I knew that the book was true.

Tami liked to go to Primary. She liked learning about Jesus, she liked to sing, and she liked her teacher, Sister Brown.
Tami liked everything about Primary except for one thing. She couldn’t sit with Mom. Mom taught a different Primary class.
Mom, I want to sit with you.
You need to sit with your Primary class, and I need to sit with mine.
Tami walked to the chairs where her class was sitting. She was not happy.
Tami saw that Jamie was sitting all by herself. Jamie was new to Primary. She was crying.
Tami sat in the chair next to Jamie.
Don’t cry. It’s OK.
I want my mom.
I know, but Sister Brown is really nice. I’ll sit next to you so we can be together.
Thank you.
Tami saw Mom smiling at her. It felt good to help Jamie. She was glad she was sitting in her own seat.

Pornography also inflicts mortal wounds on our most precious personal relationships. In his talk to men of the priesthood last October, President Hinckley quoted the letter of a woman who asked him to warn Church members that pornography “has the effect of damaging hearts and souls to their very depths, strangling the life out of relationships” (Liahona and Ensign, Nov. 2004, 60).

At a recent stake conference a woman handed me a similar letter. Her husband had also served in important Church callings for many years while addicted to pornography. She told of great difficulty in getting priesthood leaders to take this problem of pornography seriously: “I got all kinds of responses—like I was overreacting or it was my fault. The bishop we have now has been great. And now after 15 years my husband is trying to deal with his addiction, but now it is 15 years harder to quit for him and the loss has been incalculable.”

I remember one particular day in the San Diego Mission Home, when my husband was the mission president. It was time to bid one group of missionaries good-bye and welcome and train new ones. The zone leaders were in for training. Food had to be prepared. Linens needed to be changed and laundry done. The home was crowded, full to overflowing; I was supposed to give the missionaries an encouraging, inspirational talk. I felt pressured, even desperate.
I found a quiet corner among the crowd and prayed almost out loud to Heavenly Father, asking, “What am I to do about all these responsibilities that come so fast? There is no time to prepare. Please help me.” I suppose I expected the sympathetic words of a parent to come to me, “You poor, dear child.” But instead I heard a voice saying, “This is not your time, but my time.” The voice was firm and strong, and from that I knew I should rely on the Lord and I would find help from Him.
I began my scripture study in earnest, first priority. I am so grateful now for that inspiration. I received great solace and comfort as I read the Book of Mormon. A guide came to me when I read Alma 37:35–37.

The Crittenden family of the 18th North Ward, Eagle Gate Stake, in the heart of Salt Lake City, work hard. That’s all there is to it. But you never hear them complain. In fact, they’re often right there volunteering, doing a number of things that most people don’t hear about.

They work hard outside of church too. Fourteen-year-old David has a paper route and is looking forward to the time he’ll be old enough to start at McDonald’s. Seventeen-year-old Lisa is in demand as a baby-sitter, has worked at a department store, and takes on various other jobs in the summer. Their mother Judy works as a secretary at an elementary school, also works in the department store, and helps David with his paper route.

Lisa and David’s parents were divorced about 11 years ago. But you won’t hear them complain about that, either. “We were so young when the divorce happened that we don’t really remember what it’s like to have a dad around all the time,” says Lisa.

Among the things they do have that bring them together as a family are their pets. There are three terrier poodles and a cat to care for, and they love it. When one dog had puppies, the family helped and watched in awe.

The Church brings them close, too. You can often find Lisa helping her mother, the ward greeter, at the chapel door, handing out programs. David is usually one of the first to volunteer to pass the sacrament, and the family is very supportive of Lisa in her duties as first counselor in the Laurel presidency and as devotional counselor in seminary. Also, the time they spend praying and reading the scriptures together is a real unifier.

Of course this is not a fairy tale family. They have their fair share of spats. David felt like he had to work forever to pay Lisa back for her Walkman that got broken when he borrowed it. And Lisa and her mother are not always in agreement about who uses the car and when.

But those kinds of things are inevitable. Every family has disputes—it goes with the territory. But so can love and unity and support. They can be there if you work for them. And working hard in one area can teach you to work hard in the others. The Crittendens know that with the Lord’s help they can work their way through anything that comes along.

In October 2011, while serving a full-time mission in South Africa, I received a phone call from Sister Catherine Wood, our mission president’s wife. All merry and bright, she told me that President Thomas S. Monson had just announced the construction of a temple in my home town, Kinshasa. I remember shouting—with joy with tears flowing down my cheeks—in gratitude to the Most High for the blessing of having a temple in my country.
Eight years later, having married and been sealed to Rachel Tshimungu in the Johannesburg South Africa Temple in 2014, I am the father of two children. Together as a family we have witnessed the fulfillment of this great miracle—not only in our country, but also and especially in our own lives. We watched as the temple rose from ground level until, finally, the Kinshasa Democratic Republic of the Congo Temple was dedicated on Sunday, April 14, 2019 by Elder Dale G. Renlund of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles.

This past conference, Sister Barbara Thompson, who is in the Relief Society general presidency and is single, shared these words:

When I left high school, my goals were to attend college . . . , get married to a handsome man, and have four perfect, beautiful children. . . .

Well, as you may know, many of my goals were not realized in the way I had hoped. I finished college, served a mission, got a job, continued on with my schooling . . . , and continued working in my profession for many years. . . . But there was no handsome man, no marriage, and no children. . . .

One work colleague who was not a member of our Church said to me, “Why do you continue to go to a church that puts so much emphasis on marriage and families?” My simple answer to her was, “Because it is true!” . . . With the Church and gospel of Jesus Christ in my life, I found happiness and I knew I was on the path the Savior would have me follow.

She spoke of one way she could influence others spiritually while being single:

I had the opportunity to serve many years in Young Women and felt that gave me an opportunity to teach and testify to younger women who were developing their testimonies.10

Twenty-five years ago Sister Thompson was Shellie Nielson’s Laurel adviser. Shellie Nielson—who is now Shellie Nielson Seager—wrote Sister Thompson more than 20 years after being in her Laurel class, expressing her appreciation. Sister Seager wrote:

I woke up at 5:15 a.m. and started thinking about you and what an impact you have had on my life. . . .

. . . We were a priority to you. You always showed us so much attention, care, and love. You were always so much fun! . . . Most important, we knew you had a strong testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ.11

Sister Seager now has a family with five children. Sister Thompson’s influence for good will forever touch Sister Seager and the generations that follow.

We are the parents of six rambunctious boys. Over the past 17 years, we have learned that the Spirit often uses our own experience as parents to teach us how Heavenly Father works with His children.
Several years ago, Jessica heard our boys playing upstairs. As she listened more closely, she heard the distinct sound of a writing utensil scribbling on a wall.
She called, “Boys … is someone coloring on the wall?”
After three seconds of silence, the culprit called back, “Nooooooo.” She then asked him to bring down the writing utensil.
“OK, Mama,” he said, skipping up to her and willingly, even happily, giving her a pencil.
He kept his other hand, which was holding a permanent marker and was in plain view to Jess, hidden behind his back.
After sitting with this little boy, listening to him, correcting him, and trying to help him, she had this clear impression:
“Why do I sometimes try to hide my own sins and shortcoming from an omniscient, loving Heavenly Father?”