Gospel Story Finder

Quite often my mom and I sat up late at night talking about anything and everything. Right before I left for boot camp, we were having one of those late-night talks. We discussed how important it was that I keep my standards high and not give in to some of the temptations I might face. She asked me right then if I would promise her that I would not pick up swearing while at boot camp. I made her that promise, even though I knew it might be hard to keep because of the environment I would be in.
On June 12, I arrived at the San Diego, California, Marine Corps recruit depot. Right from the start, any identity we had was taken away. We all wore the same uniforms, wore the same brown horn-rimmed glasses, and had the same haircut, which was no hair! We were not allowed to refer to ourselves as “I” or “me.” We were to say “this recruit” when speaking about ourselves.
We got about five hours of sleep a night. We were on the go 19 hours a day. Part of the time we were in classes. Other times we were running or learning to march, and the rest of the time we were in the field learning things like martial arts, takedowns, and bayonet training. I had three drill instructors and one senior drill instructor, who was as big as a horse. His neck and biceps were the size of tree trunks.
One day my platoon of 83 recruits was in the field doing a drill. One recruit, who was the “enemy,” tried to take our rifles away. We had to fight to prevent him from getting it. Once we had control of our rifle, we were told to point it at the enemy and yell, “Get down, _____!” calling him a profane name.
As I stood there in line waiting for my turn and watching one recruit after another do the drill, I thought about the promise I had made to my mom. It would be easy to give in just this once and talk like a “real” marine. But I knew it would be wrong. I had made a promise, and now I was being put to the test. It was finally my turn. I fought the enemy, got control of my rifle, pointed it at him, and yelled, “Get down!”
My drill instructors stopped the drill and yelled at me to do it again the right way and say what they told me to say. I did the drill again, pointed the rifle at the other recruit, and yelled, “Get down!” Suddenly I had two drill instructors in my face, yelling and screaming at me. My senior drill instructor came over and stood half an inch from my face and yelled at me to obey the order I was given and do the drill the way I was ordered to do it.
It was now crunch time. Do I give in or stand up for what I know is right and keep the promise? I stood at attention and said, “This recruit does not swear, sir!” Everyone went silent.
There was not a sound as all eyes went back and forth between me and my four drill instructors. I didn’t know what would happen to me next. I wondered if I’d be harassed by all the recruits or commanded to do 5,000 push-ups. Finally my senior drill instructor burst out laughing. Everyone else started laughing as well. The drill instructors began joking with me and coming up with other words that I could say instead. I didn’t get in any trouble for keeping my promise. When it was all over, I felt relieved and thankful that I had done the right thing.

Last year was different for me with ballet because I struggled with some medical challenges. It was really dangerous for me to be dancing because my heart was weak. I needed to rest and recover.
That time was very discouraging. Not only could I not dance, but I was advised to stay away from any physical movement in general, including stretching, strength training, or even walking more than was absolutely necessary. As a dancer, taking a break seemed impossible. Even if I take a break for one week, I return feeling really tight. I couldn’t imagine taking more than a month off.
I was hopeful I would be back to dancing when the new school year came around in the fall. But when it came, I was still healing. In September, after praying a lot, I made the very scary decision to go to a clinic to help with my health.
I also started attending seminary. It was a great way to start my day, immersed in the gospel. I had never had good scripture study habits. Having that hour set aside each day to just dive into the scriptures helped me build a much stronger relationship with God.
Before my medical challenges, I had spent so much time dancing that a lot of my identity was wrapped up in it. Not having it to fall back on during this hard time left me feeling lost and like a piece of me was missing. But I noticed the more I went to seminary, read my scriptures, and surrounded myself with other youth doing the same, the more I started to strengthen my identity as a child of God. After feeling lost for so long, this really helped me find hope and meaning.
One concept that continued to come up during my seminary class helped me a lot. This concept was how Christ strengthens us during our trials. Each class, my seminary teacher encouraged us to write sticky notes about something that “stuck with us.” Looking back, all of my sticky notes focused on Christ being there for me and blessing me in my trials. It felt like I was receiving a daily reminder that Christ was there to help me.
After six long months, I was finally medically cleared to return to dance. At first, I was really nervous because I felt like I had lost all my strength. I kept working, praying, going to church, and hoping that if I tried my best, the Savior would help me. When I returned, although I wasn’t as strong as I used to be, my teacher complimented my strength. She said she was proud of me and my progress.
Even though I struggled a lot, I am thankful my medical challenges gave me the chance to strengthen my relationship with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ and find my identity as a child of God.
To anyone going through something hard, know that you always have people around you supporting you, whether or not you can see them. You are a child of God. Even though we can’t see Jesus Christ or Heavenly Father, They are watching over us and protecting us. Heavenly Father has a plan for us. Sometimes you might not experience what you want, but your trials can help you get stronger.
I have a testimony that if we pray and establish a relationship with God, He’ll be there to guide us, help us, and strengthen us.
Ellie J., age 15, Oregon, USA
Loves ballet, hanging out with family and friends, and doing service.

Many young men and young women have started avoiding the inappropriate things found on television, in movies, in music, and on the Internet. Monica Peterson, from Mesa, Arizona, and her family have tried to specifically avoid unclean television shows.
“For family home evening, we chose to work on Be clean. We wrote down television shows that weren’t appropriate to watch. A show that makes me feel uncomfortable I know shouldn’t be watched. Now, when that show comes on, I have a feeling to change it. It was hard at first, but Heavenly Father helped not only me but my family also.”

Saturday of April conference of 1984 has been circled on our calendar for many years, for that date was targeted as the first time in my life that our only son would be old enough to attend general priesthood meeting with me. Last night, that long awaited goal became a reality. Brothers and sisters, little did we know that on that day my name would be presented as a member of the Council of the Twelve.
Since we didn’t know, our children didn’t know either. Our married daughters telephoned us between sessions. One who was expecting a baby, said, “Daddy, I was so shocked by that announcement—I think I am going into labor.”
That she did.
So, President Hinckley, your announcement from the First Presidency should get credit at least for “an assist.” Our twenty-second grandchild arrived safely last evening!

One young man strayed from the Church for years before finally returning. At a testimony meeting he said: “I got involved in a lot of things I shouldn’t have in an effort to fit in with the popular group, but I always knew something was missing. When I finally repented and returned to full activity in the Church, I didn’t feel that void anymore. I came back, and through the forgiveness of Jesus Christ and His perfect love, I know this is where I belong.”

“Time for bed, Ethan.”
“Just five more minutes, please, Dad?”
“You’ve been studying that word list all evening.”
“But I have to know every word to beat Blake in the spelling bee tomorrow. He’s the best speller in class, and he’ll be sure to wear his lucky socks.”
“Lucky socks?” Dad questioned.
“He has the ugliest pair of socks I’ve ever seen—red with little gray and white diamonds. He wears them every Tuesday when we have our spelling test, and he’s only missed one word all year.”
Ethan’s father laughed. “And you think that it’s because of his socks?”
“It must be,” Ethan said. “Blake even says so.”
“Well, you won’t do well at the spelling bee if you’re tired, so off to bed now.”
“All right. These words are all beginning to look alike anyway.”
The next day after lunch Mrs. Miller said, “Class, today is the first round of our spelling bee. The words that you draw from the box today are from past tests. Tomorrow we will use the new words from the list I handed out yesterday. Cindy drew number one, so she will be first.”
Cindy stirred the folded slips of paper in the box, picked one, and handed it to her teacher. Mrs. Miller removed the tape, unfolded the paper, and read, “Official.”
Cindy smiled. “Official,” she repeated. “O-f-f-i-c-i-a-l. Official.”
“Correct,” Mrs. Miller said. “Blake, you’re next.”
“Come on, socks, do your stuff,” Blake muttered, handing a word slip to the teacher.
“Community,” Mrs. Miller said.
“Community. C-o-m-m-u-n-i-t-y. Community.”
“Correct.”
Ethan drew special and spelled it correctly. By the end of the seventh round, only Mary Ann, Blake, and Ethan had spelled all of their words correctly.
“Time’s up,” Mrs. Miller said. “We’ll start tomorrow with the new words.”
After school Blake asked Ethan if he wanted to play baseball.
“Aren’t you going to study for the spelling bee?” Ethan asked.
“Nope.”
“But the new words are a lot harder than our old test words were today,” Ethan said.
“I don’t have to study. I’ll just wear my lucky socks again. They worked for me today, didn’t they?”
“Well, I suppose, but …”
“You’ll see,” Blake said.
At supper that evening Ethan asked, “Dad, do you think that lucky socks can really help someone spell well?”
“Are you kidding!” Ethan’s sister chortled. “Socks have nothing to do with spelling well.”
“That’s true,” Ethan’s father agreed. “Let’s set up a hypothetical situation: All the students have studied and know the words, and one student has a special good-luck charm—”
“Like Blake’s lucky socks?” Ethan broke in.
His father nodded. “This student really thinks that the charm will help him, and because he believes that he has more ‘luck’ than anyone else, he has more confidence and he does do better.”
Ethan thought for a minute. “But what if he doesn’t learn the words and only counts on his lucky socks?”
“What do you think, Ethan?”
“I think that he’s in a lot of trouble.”
“I think that you’re right,” his father agreed, smiling.
“Today,” Mrs. Miller explained the next morning at the beginning of the spelling bee, “all of you will take part, but yesterday’s three finalists may each miss two words before being disqualified. The rest of you may only miss one. The winner will go to the all-city contest next week.”
“Blake, you will be first,” Mrs. Miller said.
“Go, socks,” Blake said, grinning as he picked a word out of the box.
“Definition,” Mrs. Miller read.
“Definition,” Blake repeated, his smile fading. “D-e-f-a-n-i-t-i-o-n. Definition.”
“I’m sorry Blake,” Mrs. Miller said. “That’s incorrect.”
Blake sat down and tugged on his socks. If he missed one more word, he would be out of the competition.
Blake and Ethan both advanced to the third round, along with four other students. When it was his turn, Blake stirred the words in the box twice before finally handing one to Mrs. Miller.
“Vegetable.”
Blake looked confused.
“Vegetable,” Mrs. Miller repeated.
“Vegetable. V-e-j-t-a-b-e-l. Vegetable.”
“I’m sorry.” Mrs. Miller shook her head. “I don’t understand it, Blake. You’ve always done well before. Didn’t you study the word list that I gave you?”
“Well, no,” Blake admitted. “I didn’t think I needed to this time.”
“Why did you think you didn’t need to study this time?” Mrs. Miller asked.
“Because I’m wearing my lucky socks,” Blake said impatiently, pulling his pant legs up so that Mrs. Miller could see his red socks. “My mother washes them every Monday, I wear them every Tuesday, and I always do well on my spelling tests.”
“Blake, don’t you think that studying the workbook every Monday is what really helped you to learn the words for the test on Tuesday?” Mrs. Miller asked.
Blake dropped his pants legs back down over his socks and slowly nodded in agreement.
Only Ethan and Mary Ann remained after the fourth round, and Ethan drew the word apothecary. He couldn’t remember if the sixth letter was an e or an a. He spelled it with an a, and because he had missed poinsettia earlier, Mary Ann was the winner.
“I’m sorry you didn’t win, Blake,” Ethan said on their way to lunch.
“Thanks, Ethan, but I should have studied. I’m sorry that you didn’t win.
You must have worked hard on those words.” “I did,” Ethan admitted. “But so did Mary Ann. She won fair and square.”

“I love the Personal Progress program. I have learned to do things I never knew I could,” says Mindy Sutton of the Twenty Wells Ward. Mindy believed a choir experience would help the youth in her Grantsville Utah Stake feel the Spirit in their lives, and Mindy needed a Laurel project. So she organized and directed a choir for stake Standards Night.
But the task wasn’t easy. Mindy says although she loves music, she has no natural ability. In fact, she was very discouraged after the first practice. “It was so hard to be in front of my peers trying to tell them what to do. But my stake leaders encouraged me to pray for help and promised the Lord would bless me.”
She went home and fasted and prayed. Her prayers were answered when the choir’s outstanding performance two months later not only brought the Spirit into the choir members’ lives but inspired those in attendance.
“I feel a lot closer to my Heavenly Father and know He has helped me so much,” Mindy says.

There is an old story of a waiter who asked a customer if he had enjoyed the meal. The man said that everything was fine, but it would have been better if they had given him more than two slices of bread.
The next day, when the man came to eat again, the waiter gave him four pieces of bread. The man said he still wished he had more. So the next day, the waiter gave him eight pieces! But the man still wasn’t satisfied.
Finally, on the fourth day, the waiter was really determined to make the man happy. So he took a nine-foot-long (3-m) loaf of bread, cut it in half, and with a smile, served it to the customer. Instead of being grateful, the man looked up and said, “The food was good, as always. But I see you’re back to giving me only two slices of bread.”

I arrived home. I heard crying as I walked in. It was Steven, my brother. He’d been teased at school and didn’t want to go back. The words from my patriarchal blessing echoed in my mind: “You may help the needy with your time, effort, and means.” Here was my brother in need.
“Hey Steven, you wanna go get some ice cream? Tell me what happened.”
Steven and I talked about his peers. Maybe I didn’t say anything helpful, but I could tell that my companionship meant a lot to him.
That experience with Steven taught me a lesson: the poor are just as likely to be in your home as on the streets. There are all sorts of needy people in the world—those who need food and shelter, of course—but also those who need love, counsel, and encouragement.
I haven’t given up my dream of ending the world’s social troubles, but for now, whenever I get the itch to seek out the needy, I’m inclined to go knocking at my brother’s bedroom door first.

Lisa’s family had moved to town two years ago. She was so outgoing and friendly that she soon had become accepted as one of the group, both in high school and in the Church.

But she hadn’t always been the way she was now. In ninth grade, in another town, there had been some problems. She doubted if her parents were even aware of what they were. One night at a party some things had happened that never should have.

For the longest time, she had kept it covered up. Months drifted by. On the surface Lisa was the same as always, but on the inside, she worried that God had not forgiven her. She prayed every day for forgiveness.

But then one day the bishop gave her a birthday interview. She’d been in interviews before and had always managed to avoid talking about the thing which still troubled her. But in this interview, for some reason, her bishop made her aware of a scripture. Maybe she’d heard it before, but for some reason, this time it seemed to be just for her.

“Lisa, would you read this out loud?” the bishop had asked.

She read from the 58th section of the Doctrine and Covenants, verses 42–43 [D&C 58:42–43]: “Behold, he who has repented of his sins, the same is forgiven, and I, the Lord, remember them no more. By this ye may know if a man repenteth of his sins—behold, he will confess them and forsake them.”

The scripture gave her the courage she needed to tell the bishop about what had happened, and with his counsel, she was eventually able to complete the steps of repentance.

And now she knew for certain that the Lord had forgiven her, and she wasn’t weighed down with guilt any longer. She would never forget how wonderful it was to feel all the guilt and shame being lifted off her shoulders, to feel that Father in Heaven had accepted her repentance, and that the atonement of the Savior made it possible for her to be forgiven of the mistake she had made.

After that experience, lessons about the Savior became very important to her, for she knew that she herself owed so much to him for what he had done for her.

Lisa stood up. Nobody in the ward knew about her past. And she would never tell them either because it would serve no purpose. But there was one thing she wanted them to know about.

“I’m grateful that Jesus loved us enough to take upon him our sins and make it possible for us to repent …”

“Gracie,” Mom whispered. “Wake up. It’s time for family prayer.”
Grace groaned and pulled the covers over her head. She was so warm and cozy in her bed. She heard her sister Charlotte get up and go into the living room. Grace stayed in bed, hoping her family would forget about her and just say the prayer. Dad had to leave for work early every morning, so everyone got up then to say good-bye and have a prayer.
“Grace, time to get up,” Mom called. Grace sighed and dragged herself out of bed. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she mumbled to herself, “What’s the point? We pray for the same things every day.”
“Hello, sleepyhead,” Dad said with a smile. Grace scowled at him. She knelt on the floor next to Charlotte and bowed her head.
“Help us to be like Jesus and to love one another. Please help us have a good day and bless us with health and safety. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen,” Charlotte said. “Amen,” chorused the family.
“Good-bye, everyone,” Dad said, “I love you.” Dad spied Grace, who was still scowling, and asked, “Where’s my good-bye smile?” Grace couldn’t help but smile as Dad reached out to tickle her, but she still felt grumpy.
Grace felt tired all morning at school. She was sure it was because she had to get up so early for family prayer. “If only I could sleep half an hour longer, I’m sure I wouldn’t feel so sleepy,” she thought.
Later that afternoon at home, Grace was eating a snack while Charlotte watched cartoons. Suddenly they heard pounding on the front door. Grace stood up and walked toward the door, but before she could open it, a man burst through it, yelling, “Fire! Fire! Hurry and get out! Your house is on fire!” Hearing the noise, Mom came rushing from the kitchen, a frightened look on her face. She grabbed the girls and rushed them out the front door. The man pointed to the flames coming from their roof. Smoke billowed into the sky as the flames climbed higher and higher. Mom led the girls to the neighbors’ porch across the street. “Stay here while I go call 911,” she said before running into the neighbors’ house. After Mom disappeared, Charlotte began to cry. “I want my mommy.” Grace hugged her, saying, “It’s OK, Mommy just went inside to call the fire department.”
By the time Mom came back, they could already hear sirens blaring. A big red fire truck roared up the street, screeching to a halt in front of their house. The firefighters leaped from the fire engine and began spraying Grace’s house with a big hose. Once the blaze died down, they went inside to check the house for any lingering flames. Mom hugged the girls as they watched the firefighters work.
Dad’s car pulled into the neighbors’ driveway. He jumped out.
“What happened?” Dad cried.
Shaking her head, Mom said, “I was starting dinner in the kitchen when a man came in and shouted that our house was on fire. He was working on the electrical lines and saw the smoke. I had no idea what was going on. …” She paused. “He saved our lives.”
Grace said in a trembling voice, “It was lucky that he was working up on the power poles and saw the smoke, or we might have been inside when the fire got worse.” Grace didn’t want to think of what might have happened.
Dad hugged everyone and said with tears in his eyes, “Let’s kneel right now and thank Heavenly Father for His protection.”
“What about the house, Dad?” Grace cried.
Dad said quietly, “I don’t care about the house. I’m just grateful you are all safe.”
Grace had never felt so much love and happiness as she knelt with her family. Then she remembered their family prayer that morning for health and safety. Shame washed over her as she recalled how she had acted.
“I’m sorry, Heavenly Father,” she prayed silently. The warm feeling returned to her heart. She knew that Heavenly Father had protected her and her family, and she was grateful that He had heard and answered her family’s prayer.

A certain man, desiring to enjoy the beauties of nature, went for a woodland stroll by the side of a clear, flowing river. Deep in thought about the magnificence of God’s handiwork, he didn’t see the tree roots jutting out near the water’s edge. He stumbled and fell headlong into the river. The water was deep, and the man couldn’t swim! He cried out. But who will hear me? he wondered as the water engulfed him in darkness. He surfaced and shouted again, but his hopes dimmed as he sank for the second time. His call was much weaker as he rose one more time, and he thought, No one can hear me now!
But someone did hear his cries, dived into the water, and brought him safely to the bank.
When the drowning man recovered, he looked up into the face of his rescuer and said, “Oh, thank you! Thank you for saving me. What can I do to show my love and appreciation?”
His rescuer smiled and said: “There are some things that you can do for me,” and he taught him lovingly and carefully.
Then a sad thing happened. Although the man who had been saved lived, his rescuer died as a result of his exertion during the rescue. Despite his sorrow, the survivor had a contented feeling, for he knew what to do to show his love and gratitude for his savior.
So it is with us. Our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, died that we might live. We know what we should do, for He has told us: “If ye love me, keep my commandments” (John 14:15).
There is nothing more precious to me than my testimony of Jesus Christ. I have a witness that He is my Savior and Redeemer, the Only Begotten Son of the Eternal Father. I know that Heavenly Father so loved us, “so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life” (John 3:16).

Sybil heaved a sigh of relief as she tucked her youngest brother between the clean homespun sheets and kissed him good night. As the oldest of eight children, she worked hard helping her mother care for the little ones. Usually she enjoyed getting them ready for bed, but tonight Sybil was bored. She paced back and forth before the open door of their home in Fredericksburg, New York.
“What’s the matter, Sybil?” her father asked, looking up from his work at his cluttered desk. “You seem restless.”
“I don’t know, Father,” she answered truthfully, “I just have a feeling … I want to do something—something important for a change.”
Her father smiled. “Spring fever,” he consoled her. “You’re a young girl, and you’re impatient. That’s understandable. And as for doing something important, why don’t you go help your mother with the mending?”
“I don’t want to do mending. I’m always doing mending. And besides, Father, I’m not a young girl. Mother was already married to you at fifteen, and I’m sixteen!”
Colonel Ludington smiled again sympathetically and turned back to his work. When Sybil was in one of her headstrong moods, it was hard for her to patiently do ordinary, but needed, tasks.
Suddenly they were both startled by the sound of pounding hooves in the cool spring night. Seconds later an exhausted messenger burst through the door, dripping with perspiration and barely able to stand. Sybil could see his lathered horse tethered outside.
“The British!” the man gasped. “They’re raiding Danbury! They’re burning the town and sacking our supply center. The Continentals can’t hold out. You’ve got to muster your militia, Colonel, and drive the British back!”
Colonel Ludington leaped to his feet. Rural New York was sparsely settled in 1777, and his volunteer militiamen were scattered in farms and villages over a wide area. Someone would have to rouse the men and tell them to meet at the Ludington home prepared to defend their young country against the British. But who could go? This messenger and his horse were too tired to go any farther, Colonel Ludington knew, and he himself had to remain to organize the men as they gathered there.
“Father, I’m going to go,” Sybil spoke up determinedly.
The messenger looked at her in surprise as her father sputtered, “Y-You? I won’t allow it! It’s late, and the roads are narrow and dangerous.”
Sybil’s eyes flashed as she grabbed her coat and declared, “I can do it, Father. Star is a good horse, and I know the way. My country needs me.”
There was little time for argument. Colonel Ludington looked hard at his oldest child and said softly, “All right, Sybil”—she was halfway to the barn to saddle Star before he could finish the sentence—“but be careful!”
Grabbing a stick to pound on the doors of the sleeping soldiers, she was off. The night was dark, and a chilly breeze whipped through her hair as she and Star sped on their desperate mission. As the girl passed each militiaman’s house, she pounded on the door with her stick and shouted, “Wake up! The British are burning Danbury! Go to the colonel’s prepared to fight!”
Sybil stayed only long enough at each house to insure that the militiaman was awake. Then she was gone.
She rode to Carmel, past Mahopac Falls, over the treacherous rocky path to Kent Cliffs. At times the moon’s faint light was obscured by drifting clouds, and the path was plunged into eerie darkness. Once Star tripped on an outcropping of rock and fell to his knees, but Sybil clung to the saddle and urged him up and onward through the night. Finally a very weary Sybil reached the last tiny settlement, Stormville, and rapped with her stick on the doors there.
Her job was finished.
Star was limping as they returned to the brightly lit Ludington home, and Sybil was slumped in the saddle with fatigue. The courageous ride had taken hours. The first gauzy rays of the sun were just visible over the horizon as she groomed the exhausted horse and brought it fresh water and feed.
“You did a fine job, Star,” she praised him before she went into the house.
Most of the volunteer militiamen were already there, and the small parlor was strewn with muskets and horns and flasks of gunpowder. Sybil caught her father’s eye, and the room became silent.
“This young woman,” Colonel Ludington said, his eyes shining with pride, “has proven herself a patriot!”
The soldiers stood in a silent tribute to the courage and gallantry Sybil had shown by calling them out in the dead of the night.
Colonel Ludington’s forces were able to join General Wooster at Ridgefield, a town near Danbury, in time to drive the British back to their ships in Long Island Sound. Sybil’s “spring fever” had brought success to the Continental Army. A statue of her astride Star stands by Gleneida Lake in Carmel, New York, not far from the very path she rode on that desperate night over two hundred years ago.

The program is intended to be individual-, quorum-, and family-oriented. This means that many of the requirements for each of the deacon, teacher, and priest awards may be accomplished at home—and signed off by a young man’s parents. Thus, the first place a young man and his parents should become acquainted with the program and the guidebook is in the home. Let’s see just how this might happen.
My friend Dan is 11 years old, and soon he will be ordained a deacon. Shortly before he becomes a deacon, Dan will receive a visit from the deacons quorum presidency in his ward and either a member of the bishopric or his deacons quorum adviser to welcome him into the quorum. They will explain to Dan and his parents all the wonderful things that Dan will be able to do when he receives the Aaronic Priesthood and is ordained a deacon, such as passing the sacrament, collecting fast offerings, being involved in service projects, and attending priesthood meeting and Mutual.
They will probably also share with Dan the wonderful blessing it is to bear the Aaronic Priesthood, which was restored by John the Baptist when he appeared to Joseph Smith and Oliver Cowdery on the banks of the Susquehanna River and said, “Upon you my fellow servants, in the name of Messiah I confer the Priesthood of Aaron, which holds the keys of the ministering of angels, and of the gospel of repentance, and of baptism by immersion for the remission of sins” (D&C 13:1).
They will bring Dan his own copy of the deacon’s Aaronic Priesthood: Fulfilling Our Duty to God (item no. 36412) guidebook. They will explain to Dan what the program is and what it is to accomplish. They might have Dan read the promise of the First Presidency to each deacon who works on and achieves the Duty to God Award:
“The Lord believes in you and has an important mission for you to do. He will help you as you turn to Him in prayer. Listen for the promptings of the Spirit. Obey the commandments. Make and keep covenants that will prepare you for the temple. Work with your parents and leaders as you set goals and strive to achieve them. You will feel a great sense of accomplishment as you fulfill your duty and prepare for the exciting challenges of the future.”1
Since many of the requirements can and should be fulfilled in the home, the quorum adviser will suggest that Dan’s father and mother become familiar with the requirements. Dan’s parents may receive a Guidebook for Parents and Leaders of Youth (item no. 36415), which explains their role in helping Dan. A number of the requirements (especially those in the “Family Activities” and “Spiritual Development” sections) are appropriate for family home evenings or for Sunday and will help Dan keep the Sabbath day holy.
His parents will want to know, for example, that one requirement is for Dan to give four family home evening lessons during his time as a deacon. They can arrange for him to learn how to prepare and give those lessons. They will also want to know that Dan (and possibly the entire family) will review and rememorize the Articles of Faith. Dan also needs to prepare at least two meals for his family, fill out a four-generation pedigree chart, complete a service project, develop the habit of reading the scriptures daily, and read the For the Strength of Youth pamphlet (item no. 36550) and discuss it with his parents or priesthood leader.
As Dan’s parents learn about the program, they will know how they can help and support him in accomplishing its requirements. What a great thing it would be for Dan’s father to review Dan’s progress toward his deacon certificate in father’s interviews with his son. During these interviews it might be helpful for Dan’s father to ask: How are these goals helping prepare you for your mission? How do they help prepare you for the temple? Tell me how your testimony has grown as you have read the Book of Mormon. How do you think your efforts in accomplishing your Duty to God goals are helping strengthen our family and helping you be a better son? How are your efforts preparing you to be a husband and father? (In families without a father in the home, this is a wonderful time for a mother to talk with her son about his goals and dreams and to discuss these same questions.)
Dan’s quorum president may also mention to him that some of the requirements are quorum based and that quorum activities will be planned to help Dan fulfill these requirements. The president may also review Dan’s progress with him periodically and may check with Dan’s parents now and then to see how the quorum can help. The quorum presidencies and advisers will also plan Mutual activities to help him complete the goals leading to his Duty to God Award. The bishopric can also use their regularly scheduled interviews to review Dan’s progress. They might even have an adult in the ward or branch, possibly the secretary to the Young Men presidency, help track each young man’s progress in the program.
When Dan has accomplished all the requirements for the deacon certificate, he will have an interview with the bishop to review his progress and sign the “Completion of Duty to God” page at the end of his deacon’s booklet. Dan can then receive his deacon Duty to God certificate.
Shortly before Dan becomes a teacher and then again when he is ready to become a priest, he may receive a similar visit from his quorum leaders to receive his teacher (and then priest) Duty to God guidebook. When he has received his deacon, teacher, and priest certificates, he is eligible to receive his Duty to God medallion. And though that, in itself, is a wonderful accomplishment, the most important result of Dan’s efforts will be the personal growth he has experienced in earning the award—personal growth that will help him be better prepared to receive the ordinances of the temple, to serve a full-time mission, and to be a faithful husband and father.

Increasing our faith usually starts by exercising faith in our Savior and in His promise that we will be blessed when we keep His commandments. The following story found in the Church History Centre in Johannesburg perfectly illustrates this truth.
When Johnny Poo Shuping was sixteen, he met missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. The glow they carried with them attracted him. He said, “They were looking for somebody to teach, and they found me. We set an appointment, and my spiritual awakening began.”
However, not long after beginning the lessons, Johnny’s father reminded him that their family belonged to a different church. He refused to allow Johnny to be baptized and insisted that he attend the family church. Finally, Johnny and his father reached a compromise: Johnny would be allowed to attend the Church of Jesus Christ only after he had attended his family’s church first. He recalled, “So for the next two years, I woke up early on Sunday mornings to attend the 7 a.m. service at the local chapel in town and would then run swiftly . . . to make it on time for my sacrament and priesthood meetings.”
When Johnny was old enough to serve a mission, he had completed his first year of university education. Because of his excellent grades, he had received financial aid to pay for his schooling. However, if he left school to serve a mission, he would lose his scholarship, and all his work to get good grades would have been in vain. Johnny took a leap of faith: he decided to earn money and prepare for a mission.
With no support for his decision at home, he treasured the support and encouragement of a family in the Church. He was grateful for the important role they played in his life for the two years he prepared for his mission. They were almost as excited as he was when he submitted his mission papers and received his call to the Uganda Kampala Mission.
Johnny diligently served his mission, even extending his time there. But eventually, he knew he had to return home, mend his relationships with his family, and figure out what to do about school.
After his return—after exercising his faith by choosing to prepare for, then serve, a mission—Johnny enrolled in the university, knowing he had a huge outstanding debt from previous years, since his scholarship had been invalidated when he left. He recalled, “Discouraged a bit and not knowing what to do, I felt I should get to campus one morning to check exactly how much I owed.
“The lady at the administration center printed out the account, and I anxiously scanned through it, looking for the ‘balance due’ section on the bill. I couldn’t find it. What I found instead was ‘credit.’ I asked the lady at the desk to explain to me what that meant. She looked into the details and found that some financial aid program had come across my grades and, impressed with what they saw, paid the entire outstanding fee I owed the school.
“Furthermore, the amount listed under the ‘credit’ section was money given to me for my good grades. What a tender mercy! I sat there, drowning in amazement at the thought that I was debt-free and ‘confused at the grace that so fully He proffers me.’1
“I remembered President Ezra Taft Benson’s (1899–1994) promise that ‘When we put God first, all other things fall into their proper place or drop out of our lives.’2 I experienced the truth of that promise.”
Johnny went on to earn a degree with honors in communications and has launched his own enterprise. He obeyed the commandment to serve a mission and has never regretted taking a leap of faith and trusting in the Lord.
Based on A Leap of Faith, Everyday Saints of Africa, Marnae Wilson and Midge Nielsen, Africa Southeast Area, 2015.

I had a friend in the fourth grade named Victor. I’d sometimes spend the night at his house, but it was different than at other friend’s homes. Victor had not only learned to love himself, but he had learned to love others.
I remember one time when we were at both ends of a flight of stairs in his house playing catch with a soft ball. He was at the top, and I was at the bottom. I would have to tell him when I was going to throw the ball to him and where it was going. My friend Victor was blind.
We played for quite some time, laughing and having a lot of fun. The ball would hit him in the head or the shoulder, and we’d laugh and laugh. Once I said, “Okay, it’s coming right now.” Both his hands flew out just at the right time, and he caught the ball. We were both so excited, we just couldn’t believe it.
Time went by, and for a while we had a lot of our classes together. But they became fewer. By the time we reached junior high school, I didn’t see him very much because he was in special classes.
Then student body elections came up, and Victor wanted to run for president. The day came when everyone who was trying for an office gave speeches. It was finally Victor’s turn. This was his chance, and I hoped so much he would make it. A woman whispered something in his ear. Was it a vote of confidence or directions on how to get to the podium?
Victor finished his speech and walked back to his chair. The crowd cheered for him so loudly it nearly knocked him over. He didn’t promise world peace or anything. He just spoke with great confidence. A few days later, the election results were announced. Victor had won! I was so happy I cried for him.
Sometimes I would go home at night and ask Heavenly Father if he would let Victor have my eyes, if only for one day, just so my great friend, our president, could walk down the halls at school without getting smashed into and knocked around. But I guess Heavenly Father knew Victor was doing all right because Victor never once let his blindness stop him.
As a member of the Church, I have sometimes let the things I can see get in the way. I’ve let them stop me from doing what I should do. Victor taught me this great principle: It’s not the things you look at in life—it’s your attitude, or how you look at them, that counts. I was so blind that Heavenly Father had a blind friend teach me to see.

Photograph courtesy of Ariana O.
Ariana O. of Queensland, Australia, along with several other students in her music class at school, was given an assignment to compose a song about something uniquely American. “I had a few things going around in my head,” says Ariana, “but the Restoration stood out to me the most. It was something I was passionate about and something I am very proud to be a part of.”
On the Friday after she finished writing the song, the teacher told the students that they would perform their songs the following Monday. “When I went home that evening, I practiced whenever I could so that I could surprise Mum and Dad with what I wrote the song about,” says Ariana. “I had to wait the whole weekend, and I was a little bit scared as well. I didn’t know how my classmates would react, and I didn’t want them to think I was weird.”
On Monday, the teacher announced the performances. As it turned out, only Ariana and one other group had actually written a song.
“I was nervous,” she says. “One group wrote a song about cowboys and Indians, and I wrote a song about Joseph Smith. The group who wrote their song about cowboys went first, and they were just as nervous as I was, but there were two of them performing. When it was my turn, I said a little prayer and went to the piano. I started playing, and it was like it was just me and the piano. Once I finished, I explained what the song was about, and then I sat back down.”
Though Ariana wasn’t sure how the others felt, she was glad to have shared her testimony in that way. And, she says, “I knew that I had grown spiritually.”

When I was young I loved playing sports, and I have many fond memories of those days. But not all of them are pleasant. I remember one day after my football team lost a tough game, I came home feeling discouraged. My mother was there. She listened to my sad story. She taught her children to trust in themselves and each other, not blame others for their misfortunes, and give their best effort in everything they attempted.
When we fell down, she expected us to pick ourselves up and get going again. So the advice my mother gave to me then wasn’t altogether unexpected. It has stayed with me all my life.
“Joseph,” she said, “come what may, and love it.”
I have often reflected on that counsel.
I think she may have meant that every life has peaks and shadows and times when it seems that the birds don’t sing and bells don’t ring. Yet in spite of discouragement and adversity, those who are happiest seem to have a way of learning from difficult times, becoming stronger, wiser, and happier as a result.
There may be some who think that General Authorities rarely experience pain, suffering, or distress. If only that were true. While every man and woman on this stand today has experienced an abundant measure of joy, each also has drunk deeply from the cup of disappointment, sorrow, and loss. The Lord in His wisdom does not shield anyone from grief or sadness.
For me, the Lord has opened the windows of heaven and showered blessings upon my family beyond my ability to express. Yet like everyone else, I have had times in my life when it seemed that the heaviness of my heart might be greater than I could bear. During those times I think back to those tender days of my youth when great sorrows came at the losing end of a football game.
How little I knew then of what awaited me in later years. But whenever my steps led through seasons of sadness and sorrow, my mother’s words often came back to me: “Come what may, and love it.”
How can we love days that are filled with sorrow? We can’t—at least not in the moment. I don’t think my mother was suggesting that we suppress discouragement or deny the reality of pain. I don’t think she was suggesting that we smother unpleasant truths beneath a cloak of pretended happiness. But I do believe that the way we react to adversity can be a major factor in how happy and successful we can be in life.
If we approach adversities wisely, our hardest times can be times of greatest growth, which in turn can lead toward times of greatest happiness.
Over the years I have learned a few things that have helped me through times of testing and trial. I would like to share them with you.
The first thing we can do is learn to laugh. Have you ever seen an angry driver who, when someone else makes a mistake, reacts as though that person has insulted his honor, his family, his dog, and his ancestors all the way back to Adam? Or have you had an encounter with an overhanging cupboard door left open at the wrong place and the wrong time which has been cursed, condemned, and avenged by a sore-headed victim?
There is an antidote for times such as these: learn to laugh.
I remember loading up our children in a station wagon and driving to Los Angeles. There were at least nine of us in the car, and we would invariably get lost. Instead of getting angry, we laughed. Every time we made a wrong turn, we laughed harder.
Getting lost was not an unusual occurrence for us. Once while heading south to Cedar City, Utah, we took a wrong turn and didn’t realize it until two hours later when we saw the “Welcome to Nevada” signs. We didn’t get angry. We laughed, and as a result, anger and resentment rarely resulted. Our laughter created cherished memories for us.
I remember when one of our daughters went on a blind date. She was all dressed up and waiting for her date to arrive when the doorbell rang. In walked a man who seemed a little old, but she tried to be polite. She introduced him to me and my wife and the other children; then she put on her coat and went out the door. We watched as she got into the car, but the car didn’t move. Eventually our daughter got out of the car and, red faced, ran back into the house. The man that she thought was her blind date had actually come to pick up another of our daughters who had agreed to be a babysitter for him and his wife.
We all had a good laugh over that. In fact, we couldn’t stop laughing. Later, when our daughter’s real blind date showed up, I couldn’t come out to meet him because I was still in the kitchen laughing. Now, I realize that our daughter could have felt humiliated and embarrassed. But she laughed with us, and as a result, we still laugh about it today.
The next time you’re tempted to groan, you might try to laugh instead. It will extend your life and make the lives of all those around you more enjoyable.
The second thing we can do is seek for the eternal. You may feel singled out when adversity enters your life. You shake your head and wonder, “Why me?”
But the dial on the wheel of sorrow eventually points to each of us. At one time or another, everyone must experience sorrow. No one is exempt.
I love the scriptures because they show examples of great and noble men and women such as Abraham, Sarah, Enoch, Moses, Joseph, Emma, and Brigham. Each of them experienced adversity and sorrow that tried, fortified, and refined their characters.
Learning to endure times of disappointment, suffering, and sorrow is part of our on-the-job training. These experiences, while often difficult to bear at the time, are precisely the kinds of experiences that stretch our understanding, build our character, and increase our compassion for others.
Because Jesus Christ suffered greatly, He understands our suffering. He understands our grief. We experience hard things so that we too may have increased compassion and understanding for others.
Remember the sublime words of the Savior to the Prophet Joseph Smith when he suffered with his companions in the smothering darkness of Liberty Jail:
“My son, peace be unto thy soul; thine adversity and thine afflictions shall be but a small moment;
“And then, if thou endure it well, God shall exalt thee on high; thou shalt triumph over all thy foes.”
With that eternal perspective, Joseph took comfort from these words, and so can we. Sometimes the very moments that seem to overcome us with suffering are those that will ultimately suffer us to overcome.
The third thing we can do is understand the principle of compensation. The Lord compensates the faithful for every loss. That which is taken away from those who love the Lord will be added unto them in His own way. While it may not come at the time we desire, the faithful will know that every tear today will eventually be returned a hundredfold with tears of rejoicing and gratitude.
One of the blessings of the gospel is the knowledge that when the curtain of death signals the end of our mortal lives, life will continue on the other side of the veil. There we will be given new opportunities. Not even death can take from us the eternal blessings promised by a loving Heavenly Father.
Because Heavenly Father is merciful, a principle of compensation prevails. I have seen this in my own life. My grandson Joseph has autism. It has been heartbreaking for his mother and father to come to grips with the implications of this affliction.
They knew that Joseph would probably never be like other children. They understood what that would mean not only for Joseph but for the family as well. But what a joy he has been to us. Autistic children often have a difficult time showing emotion, but every time I’m with him, Joseph gives me a big hug. While there have been challenges, he has filled our lives with joy.
His parents have encouraged him to participate in sports. When he first started playing baseball, he was in the outfield. But I don’t think he grasped the need to run after loose balls. He thought of a much more efficient way to play the game. When a ball was hit in his direction, Joseph watched it go by and then pulled another baseball out of his pocket and threw that one to the pitcher.
Any reservations that his family may have had in raising Joseph, any sacrifices they have made have been compensated tenfold. Because of this choice spirit, his mother and father have learned much about children with disabilities. They have witnessed firsthand the generosity and compassion of family, neighbors, and friends. They have rejoiced together as Joseph has progressed. They have marveled at his goodness.
The fourth thing we can do is put our trust in our Heavenly Father and His Son, Jesus Christ.
“God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son.” The Lord Jesus Christ is our partner, helper, and advocate. He wants us to be happy. He wants us to be successful. If we do our part, He will step in.
He who descended below all things will come to our aid. He will comfort and uphold us. He will strengthen us in our weakness and fortify us in our distress. He will make weak things become strong.
One of our daughters, after giving birth to a baby, became seriously ill. We prayed for her, administered to her, and supported her as best we could. We hoped she would receive a blessing of healing, but days turned into months, and months turned into years. At one point I told her that this affliction might be something she would have to struggle with the rest of her life.
One morning I remember pulling out a small card and threading it through my typewriter. Among the words that I typed for her were these: “The simple secret is this: put your trust in the Lord, do your best, then leave the rest to Him.”
She did put her trust in God. But her affliction did not disappear. For years she suffered, but in due course, the Lord blessed her, and eventually she returned to health.
Knowing this daughter, I believe that even if she had never found relief, yet she would have trusted in her Heavenly Father and “[left] the rest to Him.”
Although my mother has long since passed to her eternal reward, her words are always with me. I still remember her advice to me given on that day long ago when my team lost a football game: “Come what may, and love it.”
I know why there must be opposition in all things. Adversity, if handled correctly, can be a blessing in our lives. We can learn to love it.
As we look for humor, seek for the eternal perspective, understand the principle of compensation, and draw near to our Heavenly Father, we can endure hardship and trial. We can say, as did my mother, “Come what may, and love it.” Of this I testify in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

“I was telling a friend of mine that I come from a big family,” Cay said. “I told her about standing in line at the airport when my dad came back from a business trip, how people’s chins dropped when they saw five kids waiting for the same dad. My friend laughed and said, ‘They must have thought y’all were Mormons.’
“I turned to my other friend and said, ‘Should I tell her? Should I tell her?’
“And the first friend said, ‘Tell me what?’
“Then I said, ‘I am Mormon.’ I think she was bright red with embarrassment for the rest of the day.”

As a 13-year-old, I had an opportunity to spend a few days at a vacation home that belonged to one of my friend’s parents. Three of us young men, full of excitement, traveled by train for several hours with his family to get there. When we arrived, we found a small lake within walking distance of the vacation home.
One day, the three of us decided to go swimming in the lake. An elderly neighbor, seeing where we were headed, warned us that some parts of the lake had deep spots that could be dangerous. Ignoring his warning, we jumped into the water. I was a beginning swimmer but felt reassured because I could touch the bottom of the lake.
We had been in the lake for a long time when I inadvertently drifted into one of the deep spots. I suddenly felt as if the water were swallowing me. I couldn’t feel anything solid beneath me, and I desperately flailed my arms and legs to try to stay afloat. I felt I was in great danger, and I felt guilty for not heeding the earlier warning. I prayed for help from God. I prayed with all my heart.
The neighbor who had warned us was still near the lake. When he realized I was in difficulty, he ran to the shore. He tried to reach out to me with a tree branch, but I was too far away. He motioned for me to swim toward a large tree near the edge of the water. “Just look at the tree!” he said. “Keep moving toward the tree.”
Fixing my sight on the tree, and making a huge effort, I fought my way in that direction. Finally, I could touch the bottom. I gained a firm foothold and, knowing I was free from danger, made my way out of the lake. Breathing deeply, I dropped to the ground. The man and my two friends gathered around me and made sure I was all right.
When I was in trouble in the water of that small lake, the man on the shore called, essentially, “Look to the tree, come toward me, and live.” As I made every effort to move toward him, I eventually found a place where I could stand on my feet and move to safety.