Gospel Story Finder

This summer the older girls in our ward Primary went swimming at the local pool for activity day. Every girl came, and one brought a friend from another church. They were polite and courteous to each other and everyone around them. That alone would have made me proud, but the girls’ next actions were such that I’m sure Heavenly Father was proud, too.
A short while later, a man carrying a baby suddenly cried out, “I’ve lost my wedding ring!” With the baby in his arms, he could not find it by himself. Fortunately, he was standing near our girls. They instantly stopped playing and let the water settle. Within seconds, one of them spotted the ring and dove to get it for the man. He was very grateful.
Neither the woman nor the man asked to be taught by missionaries right then and there. But if they come into contact with the Church again, perhaps they will remember the examples set by the activity-day girls.

Illustrations by Shauna Mooney Kawasaki
Matt, please come to the board and solve problem three.
Heavenly Father, please help me get this right.
Sorry, Matt. That’s wrong.
That night
I don’t understand, Dad. I said a prayer, but Heavenly Father didn’t help me with that math problem at all.
That’s too bad. Had you studied the chapter? Had you practiced the sample problems?
Um, well, no. But I prayed.
Isn’t asking Heavenly Father to give you the answer when you haven’t studied kind of like asking Him to do the work for you?
I never thought of it that way.
Dad, I really do need help with math. Do you think Heavenly Father would help me if I pray about it?
Of course He would, and so will I. And next time there’s a quiz, you can ask Him to help you remember what you’ve studied.

It doesn’t take money, it doesn’t take luxurious surroundings—all it takes is one girl with a dream, and a lot of hard work. That’s how Leslie King, a Laurel in the Pordenone Branch, Venice Italy Stake, pulled together the first stakewide Young Women activity in the area—a four-day Young Women conference.

Leslie, whose branch is 60 percent Italian and 40 percent American service members, got a lot of help from the other girls and leaders in the stake. Together they planned the activity which involved them in projects that showed them they depend on each other and on the Lord. They used facilities and sites in close proximity to their meetinghouse.

Robert, an investigator in Canada, has attended a variety of LDS meetings and activities. He has researched various religions but continues studying the Church because of the inspiration he has found in its doctrine and the Book of Mormon. He attends institute to learn more and finds the social environment “refreshingly wholesome, friendly, with a really good vibe,” he says. “Mormons are the nicest people in the world.”

A self-described introvert, Robert wants to interact but says, “I tend to hug the walls, unsure of how to be part of the groups, some of them long-term LDS friends who don’t seem to need anyone else.” But it doesn’t take much to ease this sense of isolation. During an activity, he recalls, “someone came up to me after dinner and encouraged me to stay for the movie; otherwise, I would have left, but instead I had a great time. I just needed to know that someone wanted me there.”

Like Melissa, he appreciates LDS friends who explain doctrine but don’t get too specific about how to live it. Friends who listen more than they admonish are like “someone who walks beside you, as opposed to pushing from behind to make you go faster. Most of the time, you just trip and stumble.”

Robert has struggled to give up smoking. His discomfort illustrates how those who are new are deeply aware of their differences. “Not one member has ever said anything to me about smelling like smoke,” he says. “Yet if my clothes aren’t fresh out of the laundry, I will stay home from institute or church.”

Another time when prayer was significant in my life was when I had just graduated from high school and was working on a ranch in Idaho. I worked with two other fellows who were involved in athletics with me but who were at that time not very active in the Church. They went off in the evenings and did things that I didn’t want to do.
That left me with a lot of time alone. For six to eight weeks, I was mostly by myself after dinner so I began to study the scriptures. There were no computer games and no television to distract me, and soon I began to love the scriptures. I could hardly wait to finish work and get back to my reading. Scripture study, coupled with prayer, really made my testimony grow. I recommend that everyone be alone with his scriptures for a while.

When President Nelson spoke about using the correct name of the Church in the October 2018 general conference, his message was very clear to me: “It is the command of the Lord. …
“… To remove the Lord’s name from the Lord’s Church is a major victory for Satan” (“The Correct Name of the Church,” Liahona, Nov. 2018, 87, 88).
I realized that I needed to rethink how I approached my conversations with those around me, including certain clients at my work who had gotten used to calling me a “Mormon” and a member of the “Mormon Church.”
Committed to using the Church’s full name, I waited for the next opportunity to claim my membership in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Sure enough, that opportunity came, again in a business context. “You Mormons are such kind people,” a potential client told me. “Well, thank you,” I answered. “As members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we believe we’re all brothers and sisters.” Then the conversation continued with him and everyone else talking about the kindness of “Mormons.”
Although I had done my part in saying the full name of the Church, I still felt something was off. My friends and associates still viewed me as part of the “Mormon Church” and not necessarily as a follower of Christ, let alone as a member of Christ’s restored Church.
Over the next several interactions about my faith, I found myself beat back because of the awkwardness of saying the full, lengthy name of the Church multiple times in the same conversation. Everyone I spoke to seemed to give me odd expressions. And the conversation still always focused on “Mormons.”
I tried to make my interactions feel somewhat more natural. But this turned out to be much more difficult than I expected, particularly with individuals I didn’t want to offend. I didn’t want to be sheepish or complacent about living my faith, but I also didn’t want to come across as harsh, since many of these people had previously called me “Mormon,” with me accepting it. I also heard many members of the Church still calling themselves and other members of the Church “Mormons” at various meetings and other contexts.
I found myself asking whether using the full name of the Church was really that important in the grand scheme of things. The “Mormon” brand, after all, is quite positive in the minds of many people—being a “Mormon” had often been an asset to me. But in revisiting President Nelson’s talk, I was impressed that this really is that important, even if it did cause some awkwardness in conversation. So I recommitted myself.
The next time I had to use the Church’s full name, I was visiting a friend at a church of another faith. Someone came up to me and with a bright smile asked if I was a Mormon. “I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, yes,” I said. He started asking me several questions, each beginning with: “Does the Mormon Church believe … ?” And each time, I began my answer with the phrase: “In the restored Church of Christ, we believe …”
This banter went back and forth four or five times. When he noticed that I wasn’t accepting the title “Mormon,” he asked me point-blank, “Are you not Mormon?”
So I asked him if he knew who Mormon was—he didn’t. I told him that Mormon was a prophet, a historian, a military general, and a political figure in the ancient Americas. I am honored to be associated with a man who was so dedicated to the service of God and others.
“But,” I continued, “Mormon didn’t die for my sins. Mormon didn’t shed his blood for me or suffer in Gethsemane or die on the cross. Mormon isn’t my God. Jesus Christ is my God and my Savior. He is my Redeemer. And it is by His name that I want to be known at the last day, and it’s by His name that I hope to be known today.”
I felt the assurance of the Spirit supporting me in this short testimony to my new acquaintance. After a few seconds of silence, he said, “So, you are a Christian?”
“Yes, I am a Christian,” I responded, “and a member of Christ’s restored Church.”
Seeking to follow the instruction of the prophet seemed simple, but it turned out to take more effort than I expected. I’m still not perfect at following everything I’m asked to do. But in every case, I now make sure to use the full name of the Church.
I’m grateful for the Spirit that I feel when I get to testify to others about my Savior and my membership in His Church. And now I have a great way to naturally testify of Him and His restored Church whenever I’m asked about being “Mormon.”

A friend of mine told me that he and another young man had been asked to visit President Grant to see if he would come to their ward and speak at the commemoration of the restoration of the Aaronic Priesthood they were planning. He said they walked through the front door of the Church Administration Building, walked to the back of the building where President Grant’s secretary sat, and said, “Is the President in?”

She replied, “Yes, would you like to see him?”

They answered in the affirmative and were shown into that beautiful boardroom. President Grant welcomed them and said, “What can I do for you two young men today?” They made their request, and President Grant responded, “Of course I’d be happy to come and speak to the young men. Give me the date and time, and I’ll be there.” He stood, and they thanked him and left. President Grant visited their ward on the appointed date.

This scenario probably took place in the early 1930s, and I can assure you that everything is handled much differently today.

This is the Christ we remember. One day I had a moment in Gethsemane alone in the lovely church built there with violet stained glass windows to make it seem always night-time, the time when Jesus plead with His Father to let the awful cup pass, and set the pattern for us forever, saying, "Nevertheless, not my will but Thine be done."

It was a strangely quiet time for that usually crowded place of pilgrimage. No one was in sight. I was brimming with love and gratitude and felt the Spirit in my pounding heart. I sank to my knees to quietly whisper a prayer. I knew that somewhere nearby, not far from where I knelt He had knelt and prayed in agony. How could I not pour out my love and thanks? I wept. I pictured His precious body racked in inexpressible pain, some of it on my behalf. I felt drawn to Him by the magnet of His redeeming love.

As I arose from my knees, I had been able to say only a small part of what I had felt. I was prompted to write down the last of the prayer I had spoken. I wanted to remember the moment, the sacred space, the sanctifying time. Gratitude helps sanctify us.

I witnessed something like this on a ferry ride from Savai’i to Upolu toward the end of our mission.

It was a warm day, and the cars were packed like sardines on the bottom level of the boat. We were directed by the sailors to park within inches of the staircase, where a beautiful family was sitting. I was so close to them, that I could literally reach out and touch them with my hand. There at my arm's reach, was a little boy not more than six. He wore tattered clothes and had smudges of dirt all over his hands and face. Our eyes met, and it was an instant friendship. He was curious about me, the white lady in the fancy truck. His big brown eyes beamed at my wink, and he seemed to melt when I smiled at him.

I noticed he kept peeking back at his mother, as if to make sure it was okay for him to engage in this unspoken conversation. She seemed to approve because eventually she humbly offered me a tiny piece of dried breadfruit that she held in her hand. I was so touched that this woman, someone obviously less fortunate than myself, would offer me something to eat.

I immediately turned to the back seat and pulled out a container of breakfast that the hotel had packed for us that morning. It contained eggs, toast, koko rice, fruit, and pies. I handed it to the boy, and without hesitation, he passed it on to his mother. She took the container, placed it to her forehead, and looked up to heaven, as if to express gratitude to God. Then, I watched her do something that I will never forget. She opened it and made a sandwich out of the eggs and toast. She took one bite, just one, and then she passed it around to everyone in her family so that they would be nourished as well.

This brief encounter changed me forever. Although perfect strangers to me, I realized that this family was not strangers to Heavenly Father. His love for each of them allowed us to meet and turn something good into something even better. It taught me that lasting joy cannot be found in the world. Lasting joy is found when we make our spaces holy places. It’s found while reading scriptures, serving others, attending church, following simple commandments, and sometimes it’s even found on a crowded ferry ride eating some eggs and toast.

Our next stop was at the home of the American consul and his family, also our investigators. They were a wealthy family and lived in a large home in one of the most affluent neighborhoods in the city. We went to the front door and began to sing the same songs we had just sung to the poor people in the monastery.
We had barely started the second verse of our first song when the door opened. Dozens of people came outside and started to sing with us. They were all diplomatic representatives of several countries who had gathered there to commemorate Christmas. We soon saw in their faces the same tears and smiles we had seen in the faces of the poor people living in that abandoned monastery.
When we finished singing, the wife of the consul said, “We were gathered here with everything to make us happy; nevertheless, we felt that something was missing. It was then that you came, bringing the Christmas spirit of Jesus Christ. Now our Christmas is complete.”
Our group consisted of more than 20 missionaries from several parts of the world—Brazil, Portugal, Angola, the United States, Canada, Paraguay, and Colombia. When we were invited in, each missionary bore testimony to the diplomats from his country. As in the monastery, we invited them to hear the discussions and attend church.

If having a variety of skills and work experience on a résumé is a good thing—and it is—then 16-year-old Sarah K. is off to an awesome start. She has worked at babysitting, house cleaning, and doing yard work. She’s done photography shoots at weddings and receptions. And for the past nine months, Sarah has been working part-time at a restaurant as a hostess and a busser.
“I believe in a strong work ethic,” Sarah says. She believes firmly that every job she’s had has taught her something useful.
Sarah got started in her work-for-hire jobs the same way many Latter-day Saint youth do: by checking first with people in her ward. “The Church members started hiring me, and they would tell their friends,” she says.
It’s also been a family effort with her siblings. Sarah is the second-oldest of nine children. Her younger brothers know how to network and find yard-work jobs. “Whenever they had a gig, I would tag along,” she explains.
Her work plans are only getting started. “My goal is to be a cosmetologist and to have a business degree so I can build on that skill,” Sarah says.

When I was a young boy, my parents received a gift that became fascinating to my younger brother David and me. The gift was a miniature model of the golden plates the Prophet Joseph Smith received from the angel Moroni. As I recall, the model plates had 10 or so metal pages with words written on them. However, those pages weren’t what caught our attention.
We had been raised hearing the stories of the Restoration. We knew of and had sung in Primary about golden plates hidden deep in a mountainside and delivered by the angel Moroni to Joseph Smith.1 As the curiosity of our young minds stirred, there was one thing we really wanted to see: what was written on the small section of the model plates securely sealed with two small metal bands?
The plates sat on an end table for several days before our curiosity got the best of us. Although we clearly understood that these were not the actual plates Moroni had delivered, we wanted to view the sealed portion. So on several occasions, my brother and I tried using butter knives, old spoons, and anything else we could imagine to pry apart the sealed portion of the plates just enough to see what they contained—but not enough to break the small bands. We were at least smart enough not to leave a trace of our mischievous boyhood curiosity. To our disappointment and frustration, these attempts to “pry at the plates” were always unsuccessful.
I still don’t know what—if anything—was hidden under that sealed portion. But the embarrassing part of our story is that to this day, I have no idea what was written on the portion of the metal pages that was meant to be read. I can only imagine that these pages contained stories of the Restoration and testimonies of Joseph Smith and the Three and Eight Witnesses, who saw the actual plates Moroni delivered.
Knowing the diligent nature of my younger brother, I imagine it very likely that he read all the words written on the model plates in our parents’ home. I, however, ignored those plain and precious truths and instead exerted my effort searching for those things that were not meant to be revealed.

One of the most touching scenes in the life of the Prophet Joseph (and one of the most thrilling, for it demonstrates the unbounded love of his followers for their beloved Prophet) was when, in the summer of 1843, the Prophet Joseph Smith rode triumphantly into Nauvoo after he had been kidnapped by a couple of sheriffs. His friends had come to the rescue, and he entered Nauvoo in triumph. The Saints had been notified the day before of his coming, and almost all the people came out meet him, with his wife, Emma, and his brother, Hyrum in the lead. After embracing his wife and his brother Hyrum, he mounted his favorite horse, Old Charlie. The band struck up “Hail, Columbia,” and the procession started into town. Besides a long line of carriages and persons on horseback, the streets were lined with people whose countenances were joyous and full of satisfaction to see their beloved Prophet once more safe. The Prophet was greeted with cheers from the people and the booming of gun and cannon.
At his home he was embraced by his mother, with tears of joy streaming down her cheeks, while his little children clung to him with feelings of enthusiastic and enraptured pleasure. His little son Fred exclaimed, “Pa, the Missourians won’t take you away again, will they?” His friends from out of town looked on with amazement and astonishment, but with unconcealed pleasure at the loving attachment of the Prophet’s family and his friends toward him. His friends were loath to depart. One can feel the Prophet’s love for his friends as he blessed them: “I thank you for your kindness and love for me. I bless you all, in the name of Jesus Christ.”

I rummaged through the old, dusty bin, angel in hand. I’d crocheted the angel’s head and body, but I needed yellow yarn to complete the halo and wings, and I wasn’t sure if I had any.
I’d learned to crochet when I was 11, but then I went about a decade without picking up a hook. It was only during the pandemic that crocheting had become a hobby again, and I’d gotten ambitious; I was trying to complete a full set of Nativity figures before Christmas.
Just as I was about to give up, I caught sight of a yellow swath of fabric. I tugged at the material, unearthing a large, uneven blanket. It had giant, gaudy stripes of clashing colors: orange, pink, navy blue, and yellow all crocheted together in a nauseatingly bright pattern.
The stripes were all different sizes. The stitches were loose and inconsistent. But the blanket still made me smile as I recognized it from my early years of crocheting. My focus and motivation had given out long before the project was complete, and it had been sitting in this pile of unfinished projects for years, unused and unseen.
I picked up the loose, untied end of the blanket and pulled. The blanket had never been fastened off, so I could undo several stitches at a time just with a quick tug.
I hesitated before unraveling it more. The blanket was outdated and overly bright, but it made me a little bit sad to think that I was undoing everything my young fingers had worked so hard to create. But, I realized, crocheting this blanket all those years ago had kept the material right where I needed it, now available and ready to be used for this better purpose.
So, I unraveled. I pulled and pulled until the yarn piled in a tangled heap on my lap, and then I began to crochet. My far-more-skilled hands turned the clumsy, childlike stitches of my blanket into intricately patterned angel’s wings.
As I worked, an odd thought entered my mind:
My testimony is like this little angel.
While the thought made me smile at first, the longer I thought about it, the more I realized it was true. My testimony, like my little blanket, had at first been a simple, childlike construction. Then came the unraveling, as certain things tested my faith. The loose, clumsy stitches that had formed the basis of my testimony felt like they were being pulled apart.
And finally, there was reconstruction. When I’d stopped holding so tightly to what I’d had before, started trusting the Savior, and allowed my testimony to grow and change, it had formed into something far more beautiful, something more profound and significant than what I’d been able to create as a child.
Emeritus General Authority Seventy Elder Bruce C. Hafen explained this concept when he described what he called the “simplicity beyond complexity”1—essentially the idea that if we work through the difficult questions in our lives, we will receive a new, stronger kind of simplicity. He explained that “our tunnels of ambiguity are there to teach us, not to torment us. … It is by faith that we consciously choose to grow through the complexity that lets us see with our eyes and our hearts wide open.”2
The longer I thought about it, the more I realized that not only my testimony, but my life had followed this pattern. It didn’t happen all at once, but slowly, gradually, I had transformed. Through Christ, I had changed. Through Christ, I had weathered adversity and become something new.
This crocheting project started out as just a quarantine hobby but ended up being the perfect reminder of the influence of Christ and the celebration of new life. Because that is what Christ offers us: a chance to be made into something entirely new. We celebrate the baby in Bethlehem because we know that that baby grew up to be someone who could offer us the opportunity to grow and change and be made whole.
As President Thomas S. Monson (1927–2018) said: “As you and I walk the pathway Jesus walked, we will discover He is more than the babe in Bethlehem, more than the carpenter’s son, more than the greatest teacher ever to live. We will come to know Him as the Son of God, our Savior and our Redeemer.”3
While Christ’s birth was a miraculous and wondrous event, my Christmas celebration is deepened and enriched by remembering exactly why the angel’s tidings brought such “great joy” (Luke 2:10). As the angel also prophesied, “[Mary] shall bring forth a son, and thou shalt call his name Jesus: for he shall save his people from their sins” (Matthew 1:21).
As we celebrate the birth of Christ, we can also remember the hope for new life and second chances that He brings to us. Christmas is a wonderful time of traditions and giving, and it can also be a time for strengthening, or even rebuilding, our testimonies. We can allow the Lord, with His skill and wisdom, to make us into something better than we could have imagined.
Alison Wood is an editor for the Liahona and YA Weekly. She loves good books, pickleball, playing the violin, and her husband. She has a deep belief in the gospel and the blessings it brings.

Our living prophet, President Harold B. Lee, made a significant statement on this subject and clearly illustrated the correct philosophy of a servant of the Lord. He did so shortly after he was ordained to the office.
The new First Presidency held a news conference in the administration building with many members of the press in attendance. One reporter asked President Lee if he would mind explaining what his goals were. He asked:
“What do you expect to accomplish during your administration as president of the Church?”
President Lee answered in his most characteristic way, substantially as follows:
“Well,” he said, “I can only answer that question in the words of a great prophet when he was given an assignment by the Lord to secure an ancient record. He said:
“‘And I was led by the Spirit, not knowing beforehand the things which I should do.’” (1 Ne. 4:6.)
Being led by the Spirit is vitally important because this is the Lord’s church and he runs it. Those who are called to serve must let the Lord run his church. They must be led by his Spirit because man’s thoughts are not God’s thoughts and man’s ways are not God’s ways; therefore, for man to do God’s work he must have the Spirit of the Lord or he won’t know what to do or how to perform.
To continue with the revelation, now that the Lord has established the necessity for the Spirit, he proceeds to explain how to get the Spirit. The formula is apparently so simple:
“And the Spirit shall be given unto you by the prayer of faith; and if ye receive not the Spirit ye shall not teach.” (D&C 42:14.)
On the surface it appears that all that is necessary to receive the Spirit is to ask for it, but it is not quite so easy a question! What is the difference between just ordinary prayer and a “prayer of faith”?
As we consider that question, the difference is immediately apparent. The difference is faith, and what is faith? Of course, there are many definitions of faith, but one definition is “a strong belief plus action.” It is not perfect knowledge (as Alma explains in Alma 32), but real faith lets a man act as if he knows it is true when he really doesn’t.
Therefore, faith in a real sense is power—power to act and perform without actual knowledge. The Lord’s formula for receiving the Spirit, then, is to get on our knees and communicate with him. Tell him what we are going to do—make commitments with him—outline our program—and then get up off our knees and go and do precisely what we have told him we would do. In the doing, the Spirit comes.
From the record, it is obvious that most home teachers do not really enjoy home teaching. I have been a home teacher for 21 years. I don’t think I have missed a half dozen visits over the whole period. I cannot say that I love to home teach until I get to the first home, and then I do love it because I then get the spirit of a home teacher because I am acting like a home teacher—doing what a home teacher does.
In order for a bishop to get the spirit of a bishop, he must first be called, ordained, and set apart, and that is in accord with the revelation we have just read. Does that give him the spirit of a bishop? Wouldn’t it be grand if it did? But of course it doesn’t. In order to get the spirit of a bishop, he must get on his knees and communicate with the Lord and then get up off his knees and go and do precisely what he has told the Lord he would do. Then he gets the spirit of a bishop as he acts like a bishop, and he is able to act for the Lord and do what the Lord would do if the Lord was the bishop.
Suppose he gets up off his knees after telling the Lord he is going to conduct a priesthood executive committee meeting, and instead of conducting the committee meeting he goes fishing. Do you suppose he will get the spirit of a bishop? No, probably not, but rather he will likely get the spirit of a fisherman instead. And while the spirit of a fisherman is not altogether bad, it is not the spirit that he needs to conduct a priesthood executive committee meeting. If a man never acts like a bishop, even though he is called, ordained, and set apart so to be, he will never get the spirit of a bishop.
If a missionary never acts like a missionary, even though he is called and set apart so to be, he will never get the spirit of a missionary and thus will never really be a missionary, because without the Spirit he shall not teach, and a missionary that cannot teach is not a missionary. Likewise, a stake president who cannot teach is not a stake president. A home teacher who cannot teach is not a home teacher. An MIA president who cannot teach is not an MIA president.
Is it any wonder that the Lord commands:
“Wherefore, now let every man learn his duty, and to act in the office in which he is appointed, in all diligence.” (D&C 107:99.) Surely in the action, the Spirit comes as the Lord has promised.
There is one additional qualification that must be acquired in order to have success in the Lord’s work. We must love the people we are called to serve. Without this, all else is vain, because they will not accept our offering to them unless they know we love them.
In “The Vision of Sir Launfal,” an interesting story is told of a young knight who rode out into the world in search of the Holy Grail (the cup which the Master supposedly drank from at the Last Supper). He had dedicated his life to the quest. He was young, handsome, and strong, clothed in bright and shining armor, mounted on a gallant white charger. As he crossed the drawbridge riding out into the world, a beggar (who was a leper) put up his hand to him, begging alms. The young knight reached into his pouch, took out a gold coin and flung it to the beggar as he rode on, but he really did not give the beggar very much because no one would accept even a gold coin from a leper.
The young man searched for the cup; of course he didn’t find it, although he spent his life in the quest. He did, however, learn a lot, and at the close of his life he was returning to his castle, no longer young. He is now shrunken with age. His armor is no longer bright; his mount is no longer a charger but just a tired old gray horse. As he was about to cross the drawbridge into the castle, once again a beggar put up his hand begging for alms. This time Sir Launfal stopped, got down from his horse, reached into his knapsack and took out the only thing he had—a crust of bread. He then dipped his cup into the stream and gave the crust of bread and one cup of cold water to the beggar.
The wooden cup from which the beggar drank turned into the Holy Grail for which he had searched, and the beggar turned into a Christ and said a very interesting thing. He said:
“Not what we give, but what we share.
For the gift without the giver is bare;
Who gives himself with his alms feeds three,
Himself, his hungering neighbor, and me.”
(“The Vision of Sir Launfal,” James R. Lowell.)
I long ago learned what all real missionaries must learn: “People do not really care how much you know until they know how much you care.” If you love them, they will listen to you; they will let you serve them.
Because the Lord Jesus Christ loved us, he died for us, and we accept his sacrifice in our behalf as the only way back to our Heavenly Father. May we be qualified to bear his name and may we have his spirit as we act in the office in which we are appointed in all diligence, but with love. I pray in the name of Jesus Christ, the Redeemer. Amen.

Last year during a trip to Europe, I visited my old place of employment, Lufthansa German Airlines at the Frankfurt Airport.
To train their pilots, they operate several sophisticated full-motion flight simulators that can re-create almost any normal and emergency flight condition. During my many years as an airline captain, I had to pass a check flight in the flight simulator every six months to keep my pilot license current. I remember well those intense moments of stress and anxiety but also the feeling of accomplishment after passing the test. I was young then and loved the challenge.
During my visit, one of the Lufthansa executives asked if I would like to give it a try again and fly the 747 simulator one more time.
Before I had time to fully process the question, I heard a voice—sounding astonishingly like my own—saying, “Yes, I would like that very much.”
As soon as I said the words, a tsunami of thoughts flooded my mind. It had been a long time since I flew a 747. Back then I was young and a confident captain. Now I had a reputation to live up to as a former chief pilot. Would I embarrass myself in front of these professionals?
But it was too late to back down, so I settled into the captain’s seat, placed my hands on the familiar and beloved controls, and felt, once again, the exhilaration of flight as the big jet roared down the runway and took off into the wild blue yonder.
I’m happy to say that the flight was successful, the aircraft remained intact, and so did my self-image.
Even so, the experience was humbling for me. When I was in my prime, flying had become almost second nature. Now it took all my concentration to do the basic things.

My wife and I have just celebrated a remarkable thirtieth anniversary. Thirty years ago, young missionaries of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints knocked on our door in Nottingham, England.
How did their message appeal to two active members of another church? We, and generations before us, had held membership in the established church of the land. Furthermore, we were very happy with our way of life. Two precious children had graced our home, and a new job in a large industrial company was giving challenge and enjoyment.
What more could we hope for? What could add to our happiness? As the missionaries taught us and prayed with us, we began to realize that there were gaps in our life, that we had unfulfilled needs. For a few minutes may I share with you ten ways in which our lives became even more purposeful and happy as these needs were fulfilled. I am sure you will be able to identify some of these needs in your life, in your home, in your family.
First, we realized that our communication with God was not often enough or strong enough. True, we had always said our individual prayers, but when, because of the missionaries, we also started to pray together regularly as husband and wife and with our children, we experienced a tremendous feeling of closeness, not only with each other but with the Almighty God.
The missionaries had taught us that he is a personal being, that he is literally our Father, and prayers began to flow from the heart and were no longer repetitious. We came to know him as a loving Father, just and kind, reliable and true. What great need there is in the world today to commune with the Infinite, to talk and walk with God, to know that he speaks to us today and that we are in reality his children.
Second, we came to know Jesus Christ, not just as a historical figure, but as the living Son of God. In high school and the years that followed I had made a special study of the New Testament. However, the Savior’s life and mortal ministry had no great impact on my life until the missionaries testified, as did Job of old, that our Redeemer lives (see Job 19:25).
I came to know him as my personal Savior, who gave his life for me and for each of us. “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends” (John 15:13). Everyone needs a friend and everyone has a friend beyond compare—Jesus Christ and him crucified and resurrected for us.
Third, as a young married couple, we were seeking security in an insecure world. We had grown from youth through teenage years during World War II. I had been a member of the Home Guard at sixteen, trained to defend my country, and at seventeen had volunteered for the Royal Air Force. Now, more than five years after the war had finished, there was still rubble in the streets and rationing in the shops.
We grasped at the secure message that the missionaries gave us, that God speaks today as he did anciently, through prophets. Yes, he is mindful of us, he does love us, he has restored his church and the fulness of his gospel as he promised. Oh, how the world needs a prophet to lead us and guide us in these troubled times. I testify that we have such a prophet. He sits behind me as I speak in this tabernacle. He presides over The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, the Lord’s church and kingdom here on earth.
Fourth, we began attending the Church at the missionaries’ invitation—and what a friendly reception! We soon learned what true sociality is, and sincere brotherhood and sisterhood which bind together people of all nations and tongues. “Now therefore ye are no more strangers and foreigners, but fellowcitizens with the saints, and of the household of God” (Eph. 2:19). What a wonderful feeling of belonging, of being needed and appreciated, beyond anything we had previously experienced.
Soon we were singing in choirs; visiting other Church members in their homes, just as they visited us; and giving service to others in some of the many service projects the Church provides. We were able to choose from a wide range of activities—drama, dancing, sport—to supplement the spiritual progress that came rapidly by worshiping and learning with other Latter-day Saints. Everyone needs to experience the warmth of friendship and happy social activity on a continuing basis.
Fifth, my family and family life became even more meaningful and precious to me as we commenced having wonderful family home evenings together. We learned that all over the world, members of the Church spend at least one evening a week together in a balanced evening of spiritual instruction, fun, and talent sharing. We love our children, and we were glad to learn from the missionaries that although baptism is essential for the remission of sins, infant baptism is not necessary since “all children who die before … accountability are saved in the celestial kingdom” (D&C 137:10). We have known a number of parents who have been distressed at the death of a small child because of the un-Christian doctrine of infant baptism.
Again, we also became concerned about our wider family: our grandparents, our great-grandparents, and all of our ancestors. This is also a universal need, as Alex Haley expressed, “a hunger, marrow-deep, to know our heritage” (“What Roots Means to Me,” Reader’s Digest, May 1977, p. 73). Everyone has some family, sometimes near, sometimes far, sometimes living in mortality, sometimes passed on and awaiting the Resurrection. The strength that comes from family in all its aspects is a vital need, one that can be fulfilled by the principles and programs learned from the missionaries.
Sixth, everyone appreciates good health, and there is a basic need to have our spirit housed in a well-functioning body if at all possible. Personally, I had suffered internal discomfort for some years, but the health code, or Word of Wisdom, taught by the missionaries helped me to overcome this. I can testify that the exclusion of the habit-forming stimulants of alcohol, tobacco, tea, and coffee has been a great blessing in my life and the lives of my wife and my children. I am glad the Lord gave this revelation through Joseph Smith, the Prophet, almost 150 years ago, bringing increased health and vitality to millions of people.
Seventh, as provider for our young family, I was not only concerned about physical and spiritual well-being, but indeed with personal progress generally. I soon found that in the Lord’s Church all kinds of resources are provided to fulfill this need. Before long I was involved in educational activities and leadership training and cultural pursuits of various kinds. Progress within my company organization was a natural outgrowth of progression in the Church. This was not surprising, for early in our discussions with the missionaries we had learned of God’s plan of eternal progression for his children. Does not everyone deep down have this yearning, this need to progress and improve, to develop and refine?
Eighth, I think along with these needs there is also a spirit of adventure in most of us in varying degrees, a need to discover, a need to explore. For many this need is met by reading adventure stories or traveling to new places. For myself, I had always been fascinated by the study of Middle Eastern archaeology, particularly of the great Egyptian civilization.
The message of my missionary friends even fulfilled this need, for they told us of an ancient record on gold plates, inscribed by people from the Middle East in the pre-Christian era. Imagine my excitement to learn that these ancient people with their prophets and culture had left the Old World and traveled to the New, to become a mighty people on what is now the American continent. Their records were hidden and preserved and a little over 150 years ago were discovered, not by archaeologists, but by a teenage youth. The faith and worthiness of this young man, Joseph Smith, enabled him not only to find the gold plates, but later to translate the hieroglyphic record by the power of God.
What a thrill it was to see some of the reformed Egyptian characters as copied by the hand of Joseph Smith. I knew by the feeling I had that they were true characters. Then, to hold this book of scripture, this Book of Mormon, in my hands and read it eagerly, sincerely, prayerfully, was a powerful spiritual experience. The need I had for the adventure of discovery was fulfilled through the Book of Mormon. This was not merely discovery of ancient peoples, but a complete discovery of the divinity of Jesus Christ. I testify that the Book of Mormon is a witness, a modern-day witness, of the Savior of the world, who visited this continent after his resurrection.
Ninth, as one who had lived less than perfectly, and yet had no serious matters to disturb my conscience, I felt the need to make some changes in my life. I was overjoyed to learn the pure teaching of Jesus Christ concerning faith, repentance, baptism by immersion for the remission of sins, and the laying on of hands to receive the Holy Ghost. What joy to start afresh with a clean sheet, having turned away from unsound doctrines, vain traditions, and perverted ordinances.
Again, this would seem to be a universal need, all men having been born into this earth life innocent and pure, and having been tainted by the things of the world. The marvelous thing is that Jesus gave his life for everyone. His resurrection was for everyone, “for as in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive” (1 Cor. 15:22).
Tenth, and finally, since being baptized into this wonderful restored Church of Jesus Christ, I have felt an inner peace, “the peace of God, which passeth all understanding” (Philip. 4:7). I have heard many people say their greatest need and desire is to obtain peace of mind. How does this come? It comes by knowing the truth, for “the truth shall make you free” (John 8:32). I testify that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the true Church of Jesus Christ, and teaches true principles and true ordinances.
How grateful I am that my ten most fervent needs have been fulfilled through listening to the missionaries of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Then, by study and prayer and obedience to the laws and ordinances of the gospel, I have found happiness not only here but for eternities to come.
May all within the sound of my voice, and all God’s children everywhere, have the same fulfillment, I pray in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

In the late 18th century, Catherine the Great of Russia announced she would tour the southern part of her empire, accompanied by several foreign ambassadors. The governor of the area, Grigory Potemkin, desperately wanted to impress these visitors. And so he went to remarkable lengths to showcase the country’s accomplishments.
For part of the journey, Catherine floated down the Dnieper River, proudly pointing out to the ambassadors the thriving hamlets along the shore, filled with industrious and happy townspeople. There was only one problem: it was all for show. It is said that Potemkin had assembled pasteboard facades of shops and homes. He had even positioned busy-looking peasants to create the impression of a prosperous economy. Once the party disappeared around the bend of the river, Potemkin’s men packed up the fake village and rushed it downstream in preparation for Catherine’s next pass.
Although modern historians have questioned the truthfulness of this story, the term “Potemkin village” has entered the world’s vocabulary. It now refers to any attempt to make others believe we are better than we really are.

I had just gone through some dating heartache and was spending a lot of time at my sister’s. Inevitably we ended up eating junk food, watching TV, and taking naps. Waking from one of these naps, I remarked, “I don’t think we’re very good for each other.” We laughed, but that night I thanked Heavenly Father for the realization that I was using my sister as a security blanket and prayed for greater understanding of what I might do to move forward with my life. Over the next few months, that prayer was answered as I gained understanding one concept at a time.
The next day, while attending a Relief Society meeting, I noticed a particular scripture: “Others will he pacify, and lull them away into carnal security, that they will say: All is well in Zion; yea, Zion prospereth, all is well. … Therefore, wo be unto him that is at ease in Zion!” (2 Nephi 28:21, 24). I had always read these verses as describing the proud who went through the motions of worship. I had not considered myself as being at ease in Zion by spending so much time with my sister. But I began to realize that instead of seeking healing, I’d sought comfort. I resolved then to try harder to get out of my comfort zone.
The resolution helped, but stepping out of my comfort zone made me more aware of my inadequacies, which led me to feel more critical of myself. When I mentioned these feelings to a friend, he commented, “Isn’t forgiving ourselves great?” His comment helped me desire to better forgive myself of my shortcomings—without becoming complacent like those who are “at ease in Zion.”
One day I was struck by Mormon 2:13–14: “Their sorrowing was not unto repentance, because of the goodness of God; but it was rather the sorrowing of the damned, because the Lord would not always suffer them to take happiness in sin. And they did not come unto Jesus with broken hearts and contrite spirits.” I came to understand that my feelings of failure were stunting my personal growth, and I began to ponder what appropriate sorrow would entail. It was in Sunday School that I found my answer.
Our teacher drew a line on the chalkboard, labeling one end, “Being too hard on ourselves” and the other end, “Eat, drink, and be merry.” We talked about avoiding either extreme. I wondered what words would be in the center of the line, and the Spirit guided my thoughts to the phrase “a broken heart and a contrite spirit.” It seemed to me that the solution to a tendency to be too hard on oneself might be described as a contrite spirit—one that is repentant, accepting of the Lord’s help, and grateful for His mercy. The remedy for being at ease in Zion might be called a broken heart—one that is justly motivated to change and to heal.
The Savior taught, “Ye shall offer for a sacrifice unto me a broken heart and a contrite spirit” (3 Nephi 9:20). I am grateful to know that as I seek the Lord’s help to avoid being at ease in Zion and to avoid harshly judging myself, I am offering an acceptable sacrifice to Him—a sacrifice that helps me move forward with my life.

In 1991, Alfred Kyungu was a 24-year-old student at the University of Lubumbashi in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, living with his uncle, Polydor Ngoy. One day his uncle told him about an appointment with some missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
“Don’t miss this good opportunity,” his uncle told him.
Soon both he and his uncle were meeting regularly with a senior missionary couple from Utah. At first, Alfred was hesitant to join a new, foreign religion. After six months of discussions and answers to many questions, however, Alfred and his uncle were baptized on September 21, 1991.
In some ways, joining the Church was not an easy transition. Many in the community were suspicious of the Church and wondered if Latter-day Saints were mystics or even truly Christian. Fortunately, the members of their small branch were kind and welcoming. Elder Kyungu and his uncle received strength from “being taught the principles taught by Jesus Christ.”
Elder Kyungu married Lucie Kabulo Malale in 1998. They were sealed in the Johannesburg South Africa Temple in 2004. They are the parents of two daughters and one son.
Alfred Kyungu Kibamba was born in Kamina, Democratic Republic of the Congo, on October 31, 1966, to Domitien Kyungu Nkimba and Celestine Ngoy Mbuyu.
Elder Kyungu received both a bachelor’s degree and a master’s degree in social sciences and international relations from the University of Lubumbashi. He worked in several government positions for the Democratic Republic of the Congo and for the Church as a coordinator for seminaries and institutes and as a family history manager.
An Area Seventy at the time of his call, he has also served as an institute teacher, ward Sunday School teacher, counselor in a bishopric, high councilor, counselor in a stake presidency, and president of the Democratic Republic of the Congo Mbuji-Mayi Mission from 2016 to 2019.