Gospel Story Finder

Sometimes the Lord works in other ways. Sister Sampson-Davis of Ghana was inspired to translate the Book of Mormon into her native language of Fante before the Translation Division was even assigned the task. While growing up, Sister Davis enjoyed associating with Christians. As a youth, she was so impressed with and grateful for Christ’s sacrifice that she felt a strong need to do something for him. Almost forty years later, after learning English in the Netherlands and returning home to Ghana, where she joined the Church, she found an opportunity to accomplish her girlhood desire.
One night after attending sacrament meeting, Sister Sampson-Davis realized that some of the people in the congregation did not sing from the hymnbook because they did not know English. She felt impressed to translate gospel materials for the benefit of her people, and that night she translated “I Am a Child of God.” The translation of other hymns followed.
Encouraged by accomplishing these small works of translation, Sister Sampson-Davis felt led to the enormous task for which she had been prepared over many years—translating the Book of Mormon into Fante. When the Church’s Translation Division reviewed Sister Sampson-Davis’s translation of the Book of Mormon, they were astonished that this schoolteacher, with little or no professional translation experience, had produced an excellent translation with a high degree of accuracy.
Sister Sampson-Davis is an example of the quality and dedication of translators the Lord has prepared, and is preparing for use by the Translation Division. Currently, the Division is working on translating doctrinal material in at least one major language for every nation of the world. This project, approved by the First Presidency in 1986 and called the Every Nation program, will result in reading material in many additional languages over the next few years.
The “every nation” title of the program is derived from a 1978 talk by President Spencer W. Kimball in which he said:
“If we only make a small beginning in every nation, soon the converts among each kindred and tongue could step forth as lights to their own people and the gospel would thus be preached in all the nations before the coming of the Lord.” (Regional Representatives seminar, October 1978.)
Eb Davis, director of the Translation Division, says of the program, “The Brethren are inspired in their direction of this work. Initially, we thought that many of the languages of the Every Nation program were so rare that we would have difficulties finding translators, but we discovered that the way was prepared for us. For example, we found twenty members of the Church from the Seychelles—islands between India and Africa—who could help us. We have forty members from Uganda that we can call upon, and we located four people in the Salt Lake Valley who speak Ethiopian.”
Lowell Bishop, who oversees the work in African languages, says that most of the translators for these languages have been members of the Church for only as long as the Every Nation program has been operating. He adds that for almost every language the Division has worked with so far, a member has indeed “stepped forth” to do the translation.
As an example, Brother Bishop describes the members the Division found to translate materials into two of the languages of Zaire—Lingala and Tshiluba. Church materials are translated into Lingala by Alfonse and Maguy Muanda, in addition to their being actively involved as stake missionaries and operating their own business.
Tshiluba is the native language of Ambrose and Louise Massala, but in their college days they lived in an area of Zaire where Swahili is spoken, and that became their daily language. Shortly after they were married, Ambrose suggested that they go back to speaking to one another in Tshiluba. Louise thought the suggestion strange because by then they had been speaking Swahili for a number of years. However, they began using Tshiluba again, and their children grew up speaking Tshiluba at home. Surprised when they were asked if they would translate material into Tshiluba, Louise said she finally realized why Ambrose was inspired to return to using a language they had almost forgotten.
But whether the language be Tshiluba, Hmong, or any of the many other languages that the Church Translation Division is directed to work with, the message must be “translated” into the daily lives of the individual Latter-day Saint. Like Brother Kua Lo, once we have the gospel, we need to share it with family members, neighbors, and friends, so that together we might all speak the eternal language of the gospel.
The importance of sharing the gospel has often been emphasized by President Ezra Taft Benson. On one occasion he said, “We are required to carry the gospel of Jesus Christ to every nation of the world … This commission to take the gospel to every nation, kindred, tongue, and people is one of the signs by which believers will recognize the nearness of the Savior’s return” (General Conference, April 1984.)

Several months ago I spoke at a Relief Society conference at which more than 300 women were in attendance. The Young Women had also been invited to this event, and I noticed a number of teenage girls in the audience. Early in my talk I heard the sound of whispering at my extreme left. Looking in that direction, I saw three attractive young women talking quietly to one another.
Immediately I felt a little resentful. I am used to audiences giving me their full attention, and I am not very tolerant of people working against what a speaker is trying to do. However, I have spoken to enough young groups to know the gigantic challenge it is to keep them with you, to keep their eyes riveted on the speaker, their hands out of their purses or away from combing each other’s hair, to keep them from trying on each other’s shoes or from poking each other and giggling.
Yet I believe strongly that audiences, even young ones, have an obligation to give complete courtesy to a speaker, to listen without causing distraction. My usual course of action, when a person in the audience continues to cause a disturbance, is to stop speaking, look at the offender and smile until I am noticed and the disturber is sheepishly brought back into line. Then I continue speaking. This generally works.
I glanced occasionally at the three girls on the front row as they continued to whisper to one another, but they did not notice my glances. My resentment built. Where were their mothers, anyway? Why did they come if they didn’t want to hear what I had to say? Why do the leaders force young people to go to things they don’t want to go to and aren’t prepared to appreciate? How dare they talk through my incredibly marvelous and moving presentation when everybody else in the hall was clearly spellbound?
I was reading “The Steward,” my favorite poem to read aloud, and the quiet buzz continued. Several times I looked at them and they looked back and then went on with their quiet conversation, the three of them leaning in together. At the end of the poem I closed the book and looked directly at them. I smiled. They smiled back. And giggled. I smiled at them until they stopped giggling and looked at me without a sound. I then continued my talk.
Their conversation was not totally squelched, however. It was quieter, but every once in a while I noticed them leaning in to one another and whispering. I gave up and finished out the talk, wishing that whoever had made them come had just let them be and wishing that young people these days placed a higher value on courtesy.
After the talk, as we were having refreshments in the cultural hall, a woman came up to me and shook my hand. “Sister Pearson,” she said, “I hope those girls didn’t disturb you too much. Let me tell you about them. They’ve only been in the country a week. They came from Lebanon, and they just missed the massacre [September 16–17, 1982] by eight hours. They probably would have been killed, but somehow they were taken out of the country and arrived here. Our ward has sort of adopted them. We wanted to have them come tonight in spite of the fact that they don’t speak English very well. They were sitting there trying to help one another figure out what you were saying.”
A tremor ran through my consciousness, shattering a perception and letting me see behind judgment into reality. I no longer wanted to take the girls and shake them by the shoulders. I wanted to take them in my arms and tell them how glad I was that they had come. Suddenly I knew their secret, and it changed everything.

Years later I began dating a woman named Rubí. She was a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, though she was not active. We were together for three years when she began to feel the desire to go to church. She would ask me to go with her, but I always refused.
One day the missionaries came to our door. They gave me a Book of Mormon and left me with reading assignments. I read what they requested but felt nothing. I also attended church but was always skeptical. Even so, I felt I needed to keep reading the Book of Mormon. God was calling me again.
As I continued reading, I started to feel that the book was true. My faith was growing. When I reached 3 Nephi 13:9–13 and read the Lord’s Prayer, the Spirit flooded over me. I broke into sobs. God was calling me a third time. This time I listened.
My faith in God grew. I wanted to know more. In a short time, I read all the standard works. I continued attending church, and after Rubí and I married, I was baptized. I will never forget the joy I felt when I was confirmed a member of the Church.

My awakening to these unique verses played an important role in my first assignment as an Area Seventy. I was a bit nervous being the companion of an Apostle, Elder Quentin L. Cook, at a stake conference. As I walked into the stake president’s office for the initial meeting that weekend, I noticed a pair of tattered-looking, bronzed shoes on the credenza behind his desk, accompanied by a scripture ending in an exclamation point. As I read it, I felt the Lord was aware of my study, had answered my prayers, and that He knew exactly what I needed to soothe my anxious heart.
I asked the stake president to tell me the story of the shoes.
He said:
“These are shoes of a young convert to the Church whose family situation was strained, yet he was determined to serve a successful mission and did so in Guatemala. Upon his return I met with him to extend an honorable release and saw his shoes were worn out. This young man had given his all to the Lord without much, if any, family support.
“He noticed I was staring at his shoes and asked me, ‘President, is anything wrong?’
“I responded, ‘No, Elder, everything is right! Can I have those shoes?’”
The stake president continued: “My respect and love for this returning missionary was overwhelming! I wanted to memorialize the experience, so I had his shoes bronzed. It is a reminder to me when I walk into this office of the effort we all must give regardless of our circumstances. The verse was from Isaiah: ‘How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings, that publisheth peace; that bringeth good tidings of good, that publisheth salvation; that saith unto Zion, Thy God reigneth!’ (Isaiah 52:7).”
My dear brothers and sisters, the good bishop’s wife may have been wondering why the prophet was calling her. I testify she and we need wonder no more—EXCLAMATION POINT!
I know we each must develop and carry out our own personal game plan to serve with enthusiasm alongside the full-time missionaries—EXCLAMATION POINT!
I add my testimony to that of the Prophet Joseph Smith: “And now, after the many testimonies which have been given of him, this is the testimony, last of all, which we give of him: That he lives!” (D&C 76:22). In the sacred name of Jesus Christ, amen.

All summer long, before her family moved into their new house, Sadie had wondered about her new neighbors. She had imagined a girl her age who loved to climb trees. But soon after they moved in, Sadie learned that there was no little girl next door. Just the Ludwigs.
Early that fall a big snowstorm came. Sadie and her sister bundled up and went outside. After playing in the snow for a while, Sadie noticed that no one had walked in the snow in the Ludwigs’ yard. Wouldn’t it be nice to make a snow angel in that clean snow?
That afternoon, the phone rang. Mom came into Sadie’s room. “Sadie, did you play in the Ludwigs’ snow this morning?”
“Yes,” she said softly.
“Sadie, Mr. Ludwig is from a country where children must never play in someone else’s yard without permission. He is very angry at the mess you made.”
“I didn’t mean to be naughty,” Sadie said.
“I know you didn’t,” Mom said. “But we need to think about how other people might feel about the things we do.”
“The girls at school say that everyone hates the Ludwigs because they are so mean,” Sadie said. “They say that Mr. Ludwig yells at everyone.”
“Well, if that’s how people talk about them, it sounds as if the Ludwigs need some kindness,” Mom said. “And it seems to me that we could show them some.”
Mom and Sadie made cookies and took them next door. Sadie tried to be brave, but Mr. Ludwig was frowning.
“I’m sorry for making a mess of your snow,” Sadie said. “I won’t do it again.”
“Make sure you don’t,” Mr. Ludwig said. Then he slammed the door.
“At least he took the cookies,” Mom said.
As Christmas drew near, the girls got excited about their tradition of leaving a small treat or gift on someone’s doorstep the 12 days before Christmas.
“Have you girls thought of someone who might appreciate some kindness?” Dad asked. “Someone who might need some extra cheer?”
Sadie thought of the Ludwigs. Probably no one would give them anything because Mr. Ludwig was so mean.
“What about the Ludwigs?” Sadie asked slowly.
“I think that’s a great idea,” Dad said.
Every night the girls took turns ringing the doorbell and hiding while Mr. Ludwig opened the door and took the treat inside. He answered the door more quickly each night. Sometimes Sadie was sure she saw him peeking out between the curtains when she was sneaking up his sidewalk.
On Christmas Eve, the doorbell rang. Dad opened the door and there stood Mr. Ludwig holding a large box.
“I am so grateful for your Christmas treats,” he said. “My wife is sick and doesn’t get out of bed. But I have told her about you. She likes to sew, and she made some things for you. Have a good Christmas.” Mr. Ludwig set down the box and left.
The girls gathered around as Dad opened the box. It was filled with colorful packages. Mom unwrapped towels and napkins with lace around the edges. Then she pulled out a package for each of the girls. They opened them to find beautiful handmade dolls.
“I didn’t know Mrs. Ludwig was sick in bed,” Sadie said. “I didn’t know she was making dolls for us.”
“Neither did I,” Mom said. “But we knew they needed some kindness.”

Last year while Elder David S. Baxter and I were driving to a stake conference, we stopped at a restaurant. Later when returning to our car, we were approached by a woman who called out to us. We were startled by her appearance. Her grooming (or lack of it) was what I might politely call “extreme.” She asked if we were elders in the Church. We said yes. Almost unrestrained, she told the story of her tragic life, swamped in sin. Now, only 28 years old, she was miserable. She felt worthless, with nothing to live for. As she spoke, the sweetness of her soul began to emerge. Pleading tearfully, she asked if there was any hope for her, any way up and out of her hopelessness.
“Yes,” we responded, “there is hope. Hope is linked to repentance. You can change. You can ‘come unto Christ, and be perfected in him.’” We urged her not to procrastinate. She sobbed humbly and thanked us sincerely.
As Elder Baxter and I continued our journey, we pondered that experience. We recalled the counsel given to a hopeless soul by Aaron, who said, “If thou wilt repent of all thy sins, and will bow down before God, and call on his name in faith, … then shalt thou receive the hope which thou desirest.”

At the beginning of 2014, Gabin found an article online reporting that Elder David A. Bednar, of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, had a few months earlier been in Libreville. It was just after the Gabonese government had officially recognized the Church and had permitted the beginning of missionary activities. Elder Bednar had dedicated the country of Gabon for the preaching of the gospel and he had organized the Libreville Branch. Gabin was stunned. For more than eight years he had likely been the only endowed member of the Church living in Gabon and suddenly there was a branch organized in his home city.
Using an email address found in the article, Gabin wrote to the Africa Southeast Area office, asking questions about the Church situation in Libreville. Elie Monga, president of the Brazzaville mission in the Republic of Congo, was informed and a few days later, while at work, Gabin received a visit from Elder Michael Moody, the first senior missionary to serve in Gabon.
After their initial greeting, Gabin said to Elder Moody, “I have a few questions. First, where can I pay my tithing?” For more than eight years, Gabin had carefully kept his tithing money in a small box.
“Second,” he asked, “Where can I buy new temple garments? Eight years ago, I brought a few to Libreville, and every night since I have been carefully hand washing them.” Elder Moody went to the car, opened his suitcase, and gave Gabin a brand-new pair of garments that he had been prompted to pack in his travel case that morning.
The next Sunday, Gabin, Fleur, Eve, Gabin’s nephew Yann, plus Annaïck and Pauline, Fleur’s nieces were six of the ten people sitting in the Libreville Branch sacrament meeting. Fleur was taught the missionary lessons and shortly afterward was baptized and confirmed a member of the Church. And so were Eve, Yann, Annaïck, and Pauline.
In 2015, Gabin adopted Eve. And later that year the three of them—Gabin, Fleur, and Eve—flew to Johannesburg, South Africa, where this unlikely story concludes with significant eternal consequences. Fleur received her endowment, she and Gabin were sealed together, and Eve was sealed to them both in the Johannesburg South Africa Temple.
In 2016, Elie Monga, president of the Republic of Congo Brazzaville Mission, travelled to Libreville to preside over a division of the Libreville Branch. Gabin Mendene was called to serve as president of the Libreville 2nd Branch. Shortly afterward, while attending district conference, Elder Kevin S. Hamilton—former Brussels Belgium mission president and now a General Authority Seventy and president of the Africa Southeast Area—looked out from his seat on the rostrum. And sitting there in the middle of the congregation was someone he had not seen in ten years—a patient man with an extraordinary conversion story and a church pioneer in Africa—Gabin from Gabon.

Illustration by Allen Garns
During my interviews as a bishop one Sunday afternoon, I had the pleasure of sitting down with a good friend to talk about some challenges he was facing. After listening to his concerns for a few minutes, I felt that what he needed was consistency in reading the scriptures. I was also reminded that, as his bishop, I too should be more constant in my scripture study, which was something I had been struggling with. So I suggested that we become “accountability partners” in striving to study more consistently.
Every day after we finished reading our scriptures, we would text each other the word Done! Knowing that someone else was waiting to hear whether or not the other had completed his reading for the day was great motivation for the both of us. If one of us forgot, receiving a text was a reminder. If the other person did not text, he wasn’t called out on it. We let each other take this challenge on without making the other person feel guilty.
We started the challenge six months ago now, and I don’t recall a day that we have missed reading our scriptures. This brother stood up during fast and testimony meeting a couple of months ago and shared his testimony of the positive impact that daily scripture study was having on him and his family.
I am grateful for this brother and his friendship, as well as his daily texts. I have seen how technology, when used properly, can enhance our lives. I’m also thankful for the scriptures and how they testify of Christ. I know that the Savior’s atoning sacrifice makes it possible for each of us to return to live with Him someday.

Having friends with different standards can be hard sometimes. “Denmark is a country where a lot of youth drink alcohol from a young age,” Liam explains. “It can be hard as a teenager to say no to things like that.” But Liam tries to be open about what he believes so others can better understand his choices.

“Sometimes at school when we have classes about Christianity, teachers or friends have asked me about my faith. I’ve tried to explain it as well as I can,” Liam says. “I also invited one of my best friends to my baptism. I gave him and his mom a Book of Mormon and talked with them about some of the things I believe. It’s up to them to decide what they do with it. I felt that I did the right thing to invite others to feel the same joy I do, because who doesn’t want joy?”

Fortunately, just weeks before the lockdown was announced, the Africa West Area had begun working with Church headquarters to authorize delivery of cleaning supplies for all 7,800 Latter-day Saint families in Sierra Leone and to provide a 110-pound (50 kg) bag of rice and several liters of cooking oil to more than 2,500 LDS families on an as-needed basis. Unaware of the impending lockdown, local Church leaders still raced to deliver these supplies.

"It is hard to explain the urgency that we felt at the time," recalled Sahr Doe, a special assistant to the mission president. "The weekend when distribution of the supplies was approved, we learned that a particular area might be quarantined. That would make it very difficult to deliver supplies, so we worked around the clock to load trucks and get them on their way to branches throughout the country. In one city, supplies arrived only hours before access restrictions were imposed. Throughout the country, we were able to deliver supplies just prior to the lockdown. It was a blessing to all of us and a modern-day miracle."

Sometimes it’s difficult for Jenna to have a brother with special needs, but she has learned to be loving and compassionate from helping him. One time their grandparents gave them a few dollars to buy a toy at a gift shop. When they came back, Zack had a toy and Jenna didn’t. “Jenna had given Zack her money so he could have the toy that he wanted,” her mom says. “She always does little things like that without expecting to be rewarded for it.”

My own blessing is short, and it is limited to perhaps three-quarters of a page on one side, yet it has been completely adequate and perfect for me. I received my patriarchal blessing as I entered my early teenage years. The patriarch promised that my blessing would “be a comfort and a guide” to me throughout my life. As a boy I read it over and over again. I pondered each word. I prayed earnestly to understand fully the spiritual meaning. Having that blessing early in my life guided me through all of the significant events and challenges of my life. I did not fully understand the meaning of my blessing until I gained more maturity and experience. This blessing outlined some of the responsibilities I would have in the kingdom of God on earth.
President Heber J. Grant told of the patriarchal blessing he received: “That patriarch put his hands upon my head and bestowed upon me a little blessing that would perhaps be about one-third of a typewritten page. That blessing foretold my life to the present moment.”
Elder John A. Widtsoe said: “It should always be kept in mind that the realization of the promises made may come in this or the future life. Men have stumbled at times because promised blessings have not occurred in this life. They have failed to remember that, in the gospel, life with all its activities continues forever and that the labors of earth may be continued in heaven. Besides, the Giver of the blessings, the Lord, reserves the right to have them become active in our lives, as suits His divine purpose. We and our blessings are in the hands of the Lord. But, there is the general testimony that when the gospel law has been obeyed, the promised blessings have been realized.”
This was well illustrated in my father’s patriarchal blessing. He was told in his blessing that he would be blessed with “many beautiful daughters.” He and my mother became the parents of five sons. No daughters were born to them, but they treated the wives of their sons as daughters. Some years ago when we had a family gathering, I saw my father’s daughters-in-law, granddaughters, and great-granddaughters moving about, tending to the food and ministering to the young children and the elderly, and the realization came to me that Father’s blessing literally had been fulfilled. He has indeed many beautiful daughters. The patriarch who gave my father his blessing had spiritual vision to see beyond this life. The dividing line between time and eternity disappeared.

“We were teaching Kim and Jan Smith, two teenage girls from River Falls, Wisconsin,” said Sister Lisa Anderson. “We were trying to explain the need for faith. We showed them a New Era story and I said, ‘This is about a teenage kid, just like you, and this is what she did.’ And I gave them the magazine to read, and they really liked it. I think it’s essential when you’re teaching teenagers that they can see kids their own age. It impressed them that there were real-life stories they could compare themselves to.”

Soon afterward, Kim and Jan were baptized.

As a young man, I was in the National Guard. I went to Fort Knox, Kentucky, to learn all about tanks and helicopters so that I could be an officer in an armored cavalry unit. While I was there, I made friends with a soldier who was not a member of our church. My friend often teased me because I did not drink or smoke, as he did. I told him about the Word of Wisdom and about other Church teachings.
One day our troop had to run a special kind of race. Every so often along the ten-mile course, we had to stop and pass a test. For example, we might have to figure out why a tank wasn’t running, adjust a machine gun, or do something else we had been learning in our training. My friend and I agreed that this race would be a good test of whose lifestyle was healthier—his or mine.
The men started the race one at a time in alphabetical order, with about a minute between each man. My friend’s last name started with A and mine with C, so he started the race a few minutes before I did. About a third of the way through the course, I saw a truck with a red cross on its side. Inside the ambulance was my friend. Because he did not take good care of his body, he was not physically fit and could not finish the race. I finished in good shape because I had always lived the Word of Wisdom.

Devan DeWitt has come a long way since joining the cross-country team two years ago as a sophomore. He wasn’t a particularly fast runner when he began, but as time went by he improved. By his junior and senior years, he had earned the right to compete at the state cross-country championships.
“When I discovered I could succeed at running, it helped me in other areas,” he says. “My grade-point average went from a 2.6 to a 3.0, and I had the courage to try out singing. Now I’m in the a capella choir.”

For a moment, may I take you back 142 years when there was, of course, no tabernacle here, nor temple, nor Temple Square. On July 24, 1847, the pioneer company of our people came into this valley. An advance group had arrived a day or two earlier. Brigham Young arrived on Saturday. The next day, Sabbath services were held both in the morning and in the afternoon. There was no hall of any kind in which to meet. I suppose that in the blistering heat of that July Sunday they sat on the tongues of their wagons and leaned against the wheels while the Brethren spoke. The season was late, and they were faced with a gargantuan and immediate task if they were to grow seed for the next season. But President Young pleaded with them not to violate the Sabbath then or in the future.

The next morning they divided into groups to explore their surroundings.

Brigham Young, Wilford Woodruff, and a handful of their associates hiked from their campground a little to the south of us, on past the ground where we are, and up the hill to the north of us. They climbed a dome-shaped peak, President Young having difficulty because of his recent illness.

When the Brethren stood on the summit, they looked over this valley to the south of them. It was largely barren, except for the willows and rushes that grew along the streams that carried water from the mountains to the lake. There was no building of any kind, but Brigham Young had said the previous Saturday, “This is the place.”

The summit where they stood was named Ensign Peak out of reference to these great prophetic words of Isaiah: “And he [speaking of God] will lift up an ensign to the nations from far, and will hiss unto them from the end of the earth: and, behold, they shall come with speed swiftly.” (Isa. 5:26.)

“And he shall set up an ensign for the nations, and shall assemble the outcasts of Israel, and gather together the dispersed of Judah from the four corners of the earth.” (Isa. 11:12.)

There is some evidence to indicate that Wilford Woodruff took from his pocket a bandanna handkerchief and waved it as an ensign or a standard to the nations, that from this place should go the word of the Lord, and to this place should come the people of the earth.

I think they may also on that occasion have spoken of the building of the temple, which today stands a few feet east of here, in fulfillment of the words of Isaiah:

“And it shall come to pass in the last days, that the mountain of the Lord’s house shall be established in the top of the mountains, and shall be exalted above the hills; and all nations shall flow unto it.

“And many people shall go and say, Come ye, and let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the house of the God of Jacob; and he will teach us of his ways, and we will walk in his paths: for out of Zion shall go forth the law, and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem.” (Isa. 2:2–3.)

How foolish, someone might have said, had he heard these men that July morning of 1847. They did not look like statesmen with great dreams. They did not look like rulers poring over maps and planning an empire. They were exiles, driven from their fair city on the Mississippi into this desert region of the West. But they were possessed of a vision drawn from the scriptures and words of revelation.

I marvel at the foresight of that little group. It was both audacious and bold. It was almost unbelievable. Here they were, almost a thousand miles from the nearest settlement to the east and almost eight hundred miles from the Pacific Coast. They were in an untried climate. The soil was different from that of the black loam of Illinois and Iowa, where they had most recently lived. They had never raised a crop here. They had never experienced a winter. They had not built a structure of any kind. These prophets, dressed in old, travel-worn clothes, standing in boots they had worn for more than a thousand miles from Nauvoo to this valley, spoke of a millennial vision. They spoke out of a prophetic view of the marvelous destiny of this cause. They came down from the peak that day and went to work to bring reality to their dream.

My friend Ashley and I came up with an idea for a spirit day held at our junior high school in Washington. The theme was “Scrabble Day,” where students wear a letter on their shirt and mix up, spelling different words throughout the day and taking pictures with different students. So the night before, we got a group of youth from the stake and our seminary classes to each wear a different letter in “Mormon.org.”
Little did we know that morning when we lined up to take a picture that it would bring so much positive attention to us as youth of the Church and how far our message of standing for what we believe in would travel. As soon as we lined up, a huge crowd formed; hundreds of students circled around and watched us and read the message on our shirts.
We were being a standard to our peers, because they know what kind of people we represent at school. The best part was that after taking the picture, throughout the school day we each were asked questions and got complimented for our spirit-day idea. Kids who didn’t know we were Latter-day Saints before were asking us about our faith, and we were able to answer their questions with confidence.

In these capacities, the Lord pours out revelation upon His stake presidents. A stake president living in the southern United States shared the following experience with me:
“In October 2007, a sister came to visit with me to obtain her temple recommend. During the interview, I asked her if her husband was going to visit with me for his recommend after she finished her interview. She told me that her husband had not been to the temple in over 20 years and that they had never been sealed in the temple in their 40 years of marriage. I felt a strong prompting to visit with this brother immediately. So strong was the prompting that I left my office, found him on the other side of the building, and brought him back to my office for an interview. After an interview, during which time we were joined by his bishop, he was given a temple recommend. This was a very emotional experience for all of us, especially his wife. I received an invitation later that week to attend their sealing in the temple.
“In early 2008, about four months after this couple was sealed, this brother got up in the morning to go to work and collapsed and died in their home. I am forever grateful that I listened to the promptings of the Spirit and encouraged this brother to do what he so needed to do in his life.”

Several years ago, a young man who addressed our ward in sacrament meeting began by saying, in essence, “Brothers and sisters, it’s great to be in your ward today. I am told that the best way to talk to a congregation is to liven them up with a few jokes.” He related several humorous stories, including some inappropriate for the occasion. The congregation laughed loudly—or at least some did. Others wondered what was going on. After 15 or 20 minutes, the young man said, “Well, I’d better close now. I say all these things in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”
His address was amusing and entertaining, something that might have been fun under other circumstances. But we were in a sacrament meeting, a sacred worship service. There was something haunting about his closing words, “In the name of Jesus Christ.” I had, of course, heard those words innumerable times over the years. That day, however, I thought of all the times I had delivered talks or offered prayers in the name of Jesus Christ but had done so without reflecting on whose name I had taken. I thought of occasions when I had spoken on topics of my own choosing—topics that may not have been what the Lord wanted discussed. I thought of those times I had hurriedly closed my prayers, rushing through the name of the Redeemer as though I were sprinting toward some finish line. I thought of the times I had partaken of the sacrament, the emblems of the body and blood of the Savior, with my mind focused on other things.
It occurred to me then, and has many times since, that we need not be involved with profanity to be guilty of taking the name of God in vain. We need merely to treat without serious thought the charge we carry as members of the Lord’s Church to speak and act in his name.

The bunkbed mattress squeaked as Dinis rolled over. He had tossed and turned all night. But he just couldn’t sleep!
What if the missionaries were wrong? Dinis thought. What if this isn’t the true church after all? What if I’m on the wrong path? The questions kept bothering him.
Dinis’s family joined the Church two years earlier, when he was 10. When the missionaries first taught them, Dinis had felt right away that what they taught was true. Dinis and his family were some of the first people to join the Church in Portugal. Dinis was a pioneer!
But lately he had started worrying. What if getting baptized was not the right choice?
Dinis didn’t tell anyone he was worried. Not his brothers or his sister. Not even his parents. But tonight, it was all he could think about.
Dinis sighed. He looked down over the edge of the bed. His brothers were sound asleep on the bottom bunk. Dinis was alone.
He knew he needed to ask God if the Church was true. He knelt in the middle of his bed. He bowed his head and began to pray.
“Please, God,” Dinis said softly. “Let me know if Joseph Smith really saw you and Jesus.”
Dinis had prayed many times before. But this time was different. Dinis really needed to know. He prayed harder than ever for help.
“I don’t want to be wrong,” he whispered. “I just want to know what’s right.”
Then Dinis felt something. The feeling was strong and warm. It grew until he felt it all over his body. He felt like he might explode with joy!
Dinis knew the feeling was the Holy Ghost. God had answered his prayer! The missionaries were right. Joseph Smith really was a prophet. And getting baptized wasn’t just a good choice. It was the best choice.
Dinis lay on his back and looked at the ceiling. His worries were gone. He pulled his blanket close around him. Before he knew it, he was asleep.
As Dinis got older, he always remembered the night when he prayed in his bunkbed. He knew that he was on the right path as a member of Jesus Christ’s Church. And he knew that Heavenly Father would always hear his prayers.