Gospel Story Finder

It was February 12 and much too cold to play outside. It was so cold that Tommy had gone past wishing for snow to wondering if it would ever come.
Tommy’s teacher, Miss Peters, had declared Friday afternoon craft time. Soon the students’ desks were covered with red, pink, and white construction paper and white paste. Most were working on valentines for their moms, dads, grandparents, and friends. Some were even making cards for their brothers and sisters.
Tommy wasn’t making a valentine for his mother. And he didn’t have any brothers or sisters. His best friend, Mike, probably wouldn’t get too choked up about receiving a valentine from him. But Tommy’s valentine was very, very special, and he was taking great care in making it.
First, he painstakingly cut out a large red heart. He frowned because it was a little uneven, then decided that was OK since it was so big. He chewed on his bottom lip as he struggled to get some crinkly paper on just right. It went all around the edges of the big valentine. When he was finished, he was proud to see that his valentine looked just right.
Just then, Jimmy walked past Tommy’s desk, looked at the valentine, and shouted, “Hey! It’s a mushy valentine! Tommy’s making a mushy valentine!”
Most of the class turned and craned their necks to get a peek at Tommy’s valentine. He wished a hole would open up and swallow him and his card. Then he wished one would open up and swallow Jimmy.
Jimmy leaned over the valentine, as if trying to see it better. “Is it for a girl friend?” He asked in a syrupy-sweet voice. There were giggles from the girls and outright laughs from the guys.
“No,” Tommy almost shouted, “it isn’t. Leave me alone, Jimmy.”
But Jimmy was having fun. “Ah, come on—who is it for?”
“Jimmy, stop that teasing right now and return to your desk.” Miss Peters scolded. A hush fell over the room as she came down the aisle. “I believe you should be working at your own desk.”
Unabashed, Jimmy sat down at his desk with a smirk on his face.
Miss Peters turned to Tommy, and said, “That really is a lovely valentine, Tommy. Is it for your mother?”
Tommy almost lied and said yes, but he knew that that would be wrong. “No, ma’am.”
“Oh. Well, I bet it’s for someone very special,”
Tommy nodded, then quickly looked down when someone made kissing noises.
“Class!” Miss Peters said sharply. There was silence. “Well, Tommy, I’m sure whoever it’s for will love it.”
“Thanks,” he mumbled.
She looked sharply at the rest of the class. “Do we want to work on valentines or math?” Twenty-six heads quickly bent back over pink and red construction paper.
Tommy didn’t feel like working on his special valentine anymore. He cleaned up the scraps of construction paper that had fallen from his desk, put his glue and scissors on the tray inside his desk, and stared for a moment at his valentine. Then he quickly hid it in his backpack. It was a silly old lopsided heart, anyway.
When the bell rang, he went miserably and silently to get his coat, trying to ignore the kissing sounds and giggles that came his way.
His feet felt like lead as he started toward the care center. What does Jimmy know, anyway? he asked himself. All the kids are just mean. Tommy kicked a rock. He paused at the intersection of Brook and Eastside. He wanted to go home, but his mother and Mrs. Elderberry were expecting him.
He paused when he got to the care center and thought again of the valentine he had made. Oh well, Mrs. Elderberry won’t be expecting a valentine, anyway. Racing up the steps, he dashed through the front door.
After he checked in with his mother, who was working the late shift, he waved hello to Mrs. Smith and shadowboxed with Mr. Barnes. Tommy had a lot of friends there. When his mother had to work late, he came and ate supper with her, then spent the rest of the evening listening to stories told by Mrs. Thompson and old Frank, or playing checkers with Mr. Barnes. He usually got a lot of help with his homework, too.
Yes, he had a lot of friends here, but Mrs. Elderberry was very, very special. Tommy knocked on her door.
The gray-haired lady’s face lit up when she saw him. “Come in, Thomas, come in.” She motioned toward a blue chair near the curtained window. “Please sit down.”
He waited until she had sat down—Mrs. Elderberry was big on politeness—then, after dropping his backpack on the floor, happily snuggled into the comfortable velvet chair that had come from her home. “It’s going to snow tonight,” he announced.
She looked out the window and up at the heavy, grayish-white clouds that hung overhead. “Why, I believe you are right.” She smiled. “How was school today, Thomas?”
“Fine,” he answered with a shrug. Immediately he felt all tied up inside. Mrs. Elderberry was the one he told everything to. She was the one who knew all his secrets, even the one about when he had accidently let his pet snake loose in the apartment and managed to find it only seconds before his mother had walked in the door.
Mrs. Elderberry was also the one he could talk to about his father dying and how sad it still made him feel. He couldn’t talk to his mother about it because she always started crying, and that just made him feel worse. So he talked to Mrs. Elderberry, who listened and never ever told him that he was too big to cry. But he couldn’t tell Mrs. Elderberry about the teasing that had led to a crumpled valentine.
They drank cocoa, played checkers, and talked about the possibility of snow. The room was warm and the cocoa was hot and Tommy was happy. He told Mrs. Elderberry about the football game his uncle had taken him to, and she told him a funny story about old Mrs. Lipton losing her teeth again. He was glad that she had heard from her daughter, but upset along with her because it had been three weeks since she had heard from her son. Before Tommy knew it, two hours had passed and the dinner gong was sounding.
“After you finish your homework, come back, and we’ll watch TV,” she told him as he picked up his backpack.
“Sure.” Tommy hurried out into the hallway. His stomach was suddenly telling him just how hungry he was.
Outside Mrs. Elderberry’s room, he paused. The valentine was giving him a guilty conscience. He pulled it out of his backpack and stared thoughtfully at it. Slowly he walked back to her door and slipped the valentine underneath it.
He was her friend and she was his friend, and that was all that mattered.

Three weeks later, on December 27, 1847, about a thousand Saints from settlements along the Missouri River gathered for a special conference. They had built a log tabernacle for the occasion on the east side of the river at a place later called Kanesville. The building was larger than any cabin in the area, but it could not hold everyone who wanted to attend.
Inside, the Saints sat shoulder to shoulder on hard log benches. Though the winter had been intensely cold so far, when the Saints arrived at the log tabernacle the weather was unseasonably pleasant. The day before, Heber Kimball had promised them that if they attended the meeting, they would have one of their best days ever and a fire would be lit that would never go out.35
On a platform at the front of the room, the apostles sat with the Winter Quarters high council. The meeting opened with singing and prayer, followed by sermons from some of the apostles and other Church leaders. Orson Pratt spoke about the importance of the First Presidency.
“The time has come when the Twelve must have their hands liberated to go to the ends of the earth,” Orson said, certain now of the Lord’s will. “If there is no First Presidency, it confines the Twelve too much to one place.” Reorganizing the presidency, he testified, allowed the Church to turn its eyes to the distant parts of the earth, where thousands of people could be waiting for the gospel.36
After the sermons, it was proposed that Brigham Young be sustained as president of the Church. The Saints then raised their hands in unison to sustain him. Taking the stand, Brigham proposed that Heber Kimball and Willard Richards be sustained as his counselors.
“This is one of the happiest days of my life,” he told the Saints. The road ahead would not be easy, but as the Saints’ leader, he would dedicate himself completely to fulfilling the Lord’s will.
“I will do right,” he promised. “As He dictates, so I will perform.”37

When I was young, I was overly dependent on my older sister. For example, I was a fussy eater, and when we went to visit our grandparents, I was constantly faced with being offered food I didn’t like. When the plate was passed to me, I would turn to my sister and ask, “Collene, do I like this?”
If it was familiar and she knew that I didn’t like it, she would say, “No, you don’t like that.”
If it was something we hadn’t eaten before, she would say, “Just a minute,” and taste it, and then tell me if I liked it or not. If she said that I didn’t like it, no amount of coaxing could get me to eat it.
Just as I needed to rely on my own taste buds and stop denying myself good food just because my sister told me that I didn’t like it, we must all feast on the fruit of our own testimony and not the testimony of another person. We also need to increase our ability to receive personal revelation.
We do this when we place our faith in our Lord and Savior, repent of our sins, read and really think about the scriptures, pray, look for ways to help others, and share the gospel with others. During general conferences and at many other times, we will be taught by the Lord’s prophets, seers, and revelators. When we follow the counsel of the Brethren, we prepare ourselves to go to the temple, where we receive more power to overcome the sins of the world and to “stand in holy places” (D&C 45:32).

For her 16th birthday party, Rachel H. of Alberta, Canada, wanted to plan it around a service project at the local drop-in center for the homeless. She invited friends from church and from school. Her friends liked the idea and were excited for the opportunity to give service. At the drop-in center they helped prepare lunch by filling juice glasses and slicing and buttering hundreds of slices of bread. After helping with lunch and cleaning the kitchen, Rachel’s group toured the center with a guide.
Rachel says she is grateful that her birthday party could double as a missionary moment where her school friends could see how the youth of the Church look for opportunities to serve and bless the lives of others. “It was the best birthday ever,” she adds.

The raw wind stung my legs, and I was certain that my nose—the only part of me that was exposed—would get frostbite and fall off as I waited for the bus that would take me to church. I was in Voronezh, Russia, as an English teacher, and although I had quickly fallen in love with the country and the people, the notorious Russian winter threatened to freeze my enthusiasm.
When the old bus pulled up, I paid my four rubles and squeezed myself uncomfortably into the fur-covered mass of people. As I stood there, it became utterly apparent how far from everything familiar I was.
And yet, when I finally made it to the chapel, after trudging through more snow, I felt at home just as I did in my ward back in Canada. I could not understand more than a few words of what the speakers said in sacrament meeting, but I understood the spirit they spoke with. From my first Sunday in the Voronezh Levoberezhny Branch, the members welcomed me with warm smiles when words failed because of our language barrier. And activities with the ward members warmed my spirit even more than my Russian grandmother’s soup could warm my insides.

This year our band director scheduled a performance on the day of our annual youth temple trip. Three other Church members and I were to participate in this show, and my director threatened to cancel the performance for everyone if the four of us didn’t go. Some of my friends were upset with me. I decided to fast, pray, and trust in the Lord. The Holy Spirit whispered to me that I should go on the temple trip and that everything would be all right.
After the temple trip, I was afraid to go to band practice. However fear turned to joy as I learned that the band show was postponed because of bad weather. If you put your trust and faith in the Lord, He will direct your life so “all things shall work together for your good.”Heather Todd, 15Berwick Ward, Williamsport Pennsylvania Stake

Joel was worried. He was almost sure he had started down the right canyon, but he should have been able to see smoke from their cabin long before now.
Mother was probably worrying because he was so late. She had reminded him when he left home that morning everything would look different if it should start to snow.
“I know you have to check the sheep today, Joel,” she said, “even if it is Thanksgiving. But with those black clouds building up behind Gap Mountain, there will be snow before noon.”
Joel tied a scarf around his neck and pulled on his gloves. “I’ll be careful,” he said, wishing his mother would remember he was eleven now and could take care of himself. “Besides, I’ve been up to the sheep range nearly every day this month. I won’t get lost.”
Mother still looked worried, though, when Joel opened the cabin door to leave. He turned to look back. The big room was bright and warm and already smelled good from the pies that were baking in the oven. On the sideboard three chickens were ready to be stuffed. Joel hoped Father would make it home from the settlement in time for the special dinner.
It was a long walk up winding Lost Canyon and across Nameless Ridge to the flat meadow where the sheep were kept. But Joel finally checked the sheep and then started home.
While he was walking home, he remembered how he and his father and mother had come to this valley three years before. Then they had only two horses, a few sheep, and no home. He had helped his father build the cabin. Now they had more than fifty sheep and four cows. Their garden grew well too.
Even the Ute Indians who lived in the valley on the other side of Nameless Ridge were friendly now. Joel remembered how Chief Kanosh had threatened them when they first moved to the valley. But that seemed a long time ago. Joel’s father and mother had done many things to help the Indians, and in return the Indians had helped them a great deal. Kanosh’s wife visited with Joel’s mother often, and Joel enjoyed watching them talk in sign language.
Joel stopped walking and bent his head back. If he only knew where the sun was, he would be able to tell whether he was going the right way, but dark weighted clouds filled the whole sky.
Which way was home? Joel looked in every direction. He knew he was going down a canyon, but how could he tell if it were the right one!
Before long big snowflakes began to strike his cheeks. Joel could scarcely see the nearby trees.
He remembered how his father always said, “Now don’t be nervous.” It helped Joel to remember Father’s calm voice.
Joel wiped snowflakes off his nose and began to walk very fast, looking to his left to be sure the slope of the hill was still there. If so, he was near Nameless Ridge and couldn’t be lost. Home was only half a mile east of where the ridge ended.
Joel began to wonder if he were really following Nameless Ridge. The pine-covered slopes looked alike through the thickly falling snow.
Joel walked steadily on. The swirling white snow that lit on the ground was beginning to pile up. Walking seemed to be harder with each step.
After what seemed a long time, Joel felt the ground under his feet begin to rise steeply. Although he couldn’t see ahead, he knew he should not be climbing. If anything, he should be going downhill to reach the clearing where the cabin stood.
Joel took a shaky breath. He stood still. Then he slowly turned around and around. The whole world was white. Everywhere he went looked exactly the same.
“I’m lost,” Joel said aloud. “I’m really lost.”
Blinking hard, Joel looked around once more, but it was no use. He didn’t know which way to go. But he couldn’t stop moving or he might freeze. The world was cold and silent. All he could hear was the crunch of wet snow beneath his boots.
Then Joel stopped as he heard another sound. Was something coming behind him? Or did something move to his left? He held his breath to listen, but the snow muffled sound and changed it.
Coming from the trees behind him, Joel caught sight of a dark moving figure and two others following behind. The frightened boy watched the figures plod steadily closer.
As they came closer, Joel saw it was Chief Kanosh and his wife and their little boy! Joel was so happy to see the big Ute chief and his family that he grinned from ear to ear.
“You go wrong way,” said Chief Kanosh when he reached Joel. He pointed to the right. “Cabin is over there. We go together.”
Joel didn’t say a word as he fell into step behind Chief Kanosh. The four people pushed through the snow. In a short time Joel saw a break in the trees. Dark smoke rose from the chimney of their cabin.
A wagon was behind the barn. Father was home too!
Later that night after everyone had eaten all the roast chicken and stuffing, creamed corn, and squash pie they could hold, Chief Kanosh and his wife pulled their chairs in front of the fireplace beside Joel’s mother and father. Joel sat on the floor by the Indian boy.
“Well, Joel,” said his father, smiling. “We certainly have lots to be thankful for today.”
“We surely do, Father,” Joel agreed. “And one of the things I’m most thankful for tonight is that Mother invited Chief Kanosh and his family here for Thanksgiving dinner.”

Another lovely mother has consistently read scriptures to her children to teach them truth. While overseas with no satisfactory schools, she spent much time and energy painstakingly tutoring them—with amazing results. Once the father went to help their five-year-old daughter with evening prayer. He found her kneeling, sharing her tender feelings with her Heavenly Father. Sensing his presence, she looked up. He said, “Do you know how wonderful it makes Father in Heaven feel when you talk to Him?” She responded, “Oh, Daddy, I will always talk to my Father in Heaven.” Such is the pure heart of a five-year-old who has been carefully, spiritually nurtured.

I was a senior in high school when I knew I needed a change from my best friends. There were seven of us who had been best friends since middle school, and we did everything together. All of our fathers worked for the railroad, so we rode the train with them for free from southeastern Idaho to Salt Lake City and back many times to attend general conference and shop for school clothes. Sometimes when we were together we laughed so hard we would be bent over with side aches. We were really close.
The problems started in my junior year. The parties my friends and I attended changed. Things started happening that I didn’t feel good about. Sometimes there were overnight parties when parents were out of town, and boys who had been drinking started coming.
One time a boy put a can of beer up on a bookshelf in the living room and started laughing about how my friend’s father would react if he could see it there. But I didn’t think it was funny. I liked my friend’s parents a lot. Their home had been my home away from home for years—a home where I loved to kneel with them in family prayer.
By the time summer came I was more uncomfortable with what my friends were doing with their lives. I didn’t want to follow them, but I didn’t know what to do about it. Then a wonderful change came into my life. With school out, my parents let me take the train to California to visit my aunt and uncle for three weeks. My family didn’t go to church, but in California, not only was my uncle active, but he was also the bishop of the ward. The teenagers in his ward included me in everything they did during my visit.
My new friends shined with the light of the gospel, and I was impressed with how much fun they had while living gospel standards. My cousin took me on a short trip with some of her friends. They impressed me with their integrity and goodness while having a great time. At the end of the three weeks, I came home with a determination to change my life to be more like the Savior, even if it meant having to change my friends.
When I returned home, I turned down opportunities to hang out with my old friends. At the end of the summer I met a wonderful LDS guy with a great smile and big dimples who lived his religion and was planning on a mission. I hung out with him and his friends for the first half of my senior year. Then he left for his mission.
Up until then it had been easy to spend time with my old friends at school and with new friends on weekends. But I knew I had to make some major changes if I wanted to stick with my goals.
Our ward had a large Young Women program, and though they had not been my closest friends, I liked these girls. They loved and lived the gospel teachings, and they were so much fun to be around. They accepted me wholeheartedly into their circle, and my senior year ended up being a great year. Not only was it fun, but it also pointed me firmly in the direction I wanted my life to go—towards the gospel.
I will always be thankful for my California friends who inspired me to take my life in the right direction. I am also thankful for a great group of friends in my home ward who welcomed me when I needed to make a change of friends. And the guy with the big dimples—we were married in the Idaho Falls Temple a few months after he returned from his mission.

As my body hit the gym floor, a flood of mixed feelings swept through me. A numbing pain throbbed in my left temple, and I wanted to punch something … or somebody—number 11 in the black jersey, to be specific.
It had been a great game, the kind of Church basketball game that you look forward to telling college roommates about years later. We were the undersized, undermanned underdogs. Our opponents were priests, but they looked like men, sporting beards and bowling-ball-sized biceps. For three quarters they had manhandled us, and yet somehow the scoreboard showed us deadlocked at 33. Our pint-sized crew was still in the game.
After making a quick layup to tie the game, I was tightly guarding an opponent to prevent him from catching the inbounds pass when I saw number 11—all six feet four, 225 pounds of him. Suddenly, a massive elbow crashed into my head, sending me sprawling onto the carpeted gym floor.
And now, every fiber of my being wanted to hit him back. I got up quickly and glared at the giant, with every intention of sending a message of my own. He stood there, stone-faced, ready for a fight if that were the case. My natural inclination screamed at me to deck him.
But my eyes then focused past him to a poster on the wall. Our stake president had requested that a scripture be placed on the gym wall during the basketball season. The poster had part of Mosiah 18:9 on it: “To stand as witnesses of God at all times and in all things, and in all places that ye may be in.”
The words hit me harder than his elbow had. I, a priesthood holder, was responsible to stand as a witness of God at all times and in all places, not just on Sunday, not just at the sacrament table or in seminary. My actions portrayed my beliefs, no matter where I was or who was watching me.
We ended up losing that game. But before I left the court, I found number 11. I reached out my hand, and he shook it briefly. “Good game,” I told him, and I headed down the hall. We lost that game, but for the first time I felt I had truly won.

It all started with a dream to help critically ill children in London’s Royal Marsden Hospital. With the intent of giving service in a way that could make a real difference, 50 young LDS teens from the Staines England Stake set out on an incredible service project that resulted in what some called a miracle.
They planned and produced an evening of entertainment, the “MGM Spectacular.” The initials stand for Marsden’s Glorious Musical. The miraculous part of the project was the fact that in addition to raising money for the hospital, the LDS teens helped the young patients participate and perform in the production. For many of these children, this theatrical experience was a once-in-a-lifetime event. Sarah Burlinson of the Tunbridge Wells Ward, Kent England Stake, said, “The children really looked happy, and I know that they enjoyed it as well.”
The show was intended as a family event. Besides the LDS youth, the critically ill outpatients and their brothers and sisters performed in song and dance. The LDS teens wanted to offer these children a chance to forget their difficulties for a day and feel the joy of being involved in service. The money raised was used to buy needed equipment for their own hospital. And they threw themselves into the project with energy. Catherine Wittle of the Guilford Ward said, “The sick kids were a great example to us. They were so determined to do well.”
The combination of dedicated LDS youth with enthusiastic children made for a remarkable evening. The project was linked with a charity called Kids Count. The group also received help from London’s Capital Radio.
But the performance was preceded by 18 months of hard work. To earn the money necessary to hire the hall, create the costumes, and print the tickets and programmes, the stake youth held car washes, sponsored hikes and bake sales, and held a summer festival. At times it was discouraging, especially after well-made plans fell through, but then the phrase, “The show must go on,” was heard around the stake.
Everyone understood that the proceeds of this show were to serve an important purpose. “The show was a lot of fun to put together and perform,” said Alison Youngberg of the Addlestone Branch, “but the best part was knowing that we were raising money that would save the children’s lives.”
On the night of the performance, the show was a great success. The near-capacity audience was thoroughly entertained. Standing on stage that evening, Amber Travers of the Kingston Ward said, “When we all sang the closing song on stage, there was a really good feeling, a feeling of total unity and friendliness.”
A cheque for nearly £2000 (about $3,214) was donated. Beth Sepion, representing the hospital, said that the show was the most touching and innovative way she had ever seen to raise money. For the Staines Stake youth, it was a chance to learn how much fun service can be and how great things can come from that which is small.

There was a time before we were married when my wife, Kristi, was struggling to feel Heavenly Father’s love and to understand His plan for her. As she prayed for guidance, an impression came that she should attend institute, so she enrolled in a New Testament class. The way her institute teacher taught from the scriptures, even the way he held them, showed how much he loved the word of God. As she attended, the Holy Ghost whispered to her that there was something in the scriptures that she needed. Her teacher’s love for the scriptures and the promptings of the Holy Ghost gave her a desire to begin a serious study of the word of God—which became a lifelong journey of deep conversion and consecrated service.

I recently had the opportunity to speak to a woman who asked me about Joseph Smith. She was clearly skeptical about his calling and mission. As I spoke to her, the words of the Lord to Oliver Cowdery came to me: “Stand by my servant Joseph, faithfully” (D&C 6:18). I hope that on that day, and at every moment in my life, it can be said of me, “She stood by Joseph.” I want to be his friend.
Joseph Smith himself was a great friend to many. He said, “Friendship is one of the grand fundamental principles of ‘Mormonism’; [it is designed] to revolutionize and civilize the world, and cause wars and contentions to cease and men to become friends and brothers” (History of the Church, 5:517).
And yet he knew that friendship was more than an abstraction. He learned one day that a brother’s house had been burned by enemies. When Church members said they felt sorry for him, the Prophet took some money from his pocket and said, “I feel sorry for this brother to the amount of five dollars. How much do you … feel sorry [for him]?” (in Hyrum L. Andrus and Helen Mae Andrus, comps., They Knew the Prophet [1974], 150).

For Tino, missionary service took an unexpected turn. Deferment of their mandatory military obligation is not allowed for Portuguese missionaries, and Tino was called into his country’s air force. He still remembers the counsel of R. Perry Ficklin, then president of the Portugal Lisbon Mission, who explained that Elder Moreira’s missionary service wasn’t over, that he was only being “transferred to another area—more difficult.” Tino went on to teach and baptize a number of people in the air force.

Sister Wallace is my new CTR teacher, and we are beginning to study a lot about preparing for baptism. One of the things that will help us, she says, is to share our testimonies with others.
One Sunday she told us, “Testimonies strengthen people. Bearing your testimony is a way to express to the Lord and others what the gospel means to you and why you believe in it. Now,” she said, “I challenge each of you to bear your testimony. Next Sunday is fast and testimony meeting. Who would like to do it then?”
Nobody raised his hand. Not even Lisa Wilkes, who is always trying to please Sister Wallace.
“I know that it can be a little scary,” Sister Wallace admitted, “but if you do it, you’ll receive something special.”
My best friend, Mark, was becoming interested. “You mean that all we have to do is to stand up and bear our testimonies, and we’ll get something special?” he asked.
“Yes—if you are sincere when you bear your testimony, I promise that you really will receive something special.”
After church I walked home with Mark. On the way he asked me, “Are you going to bear your testimony next Sunday?”
“I don’t know. Are you?”
“I don’t know. What do you think we’ll get if we do?”
“Beats me. Probably a treat or something.”
Mark’s eyes showed his anticipation. He said excitedly, “I bet I know what it is—one of those giant homemade candy bars that Sister Wallace is famous for.”
“Hey, yeah!” I exclaimed. “That has to be it.”
“I’d sure like to get one,” Mark said enthusiastically. “I’m going to stand up next week for sure.”
All day I thought about what Sister Wallace had said, and I thought about my conversation with Mark. Sister Wallace wasn’t the kind of teacher who rewarded us for every nice thing that we did. Mark had asked her if all we had to do was stand up and say a few words to get something special, and she’d said that we had to be sincere. I still wasn’t sure what she meant by that, so when Dad tucked me into bed that night, I asked him what it meant to be sincere.
“Sincere about what, Adam?”
“Oh,” I said, “you know, sincere about what you’re saying.”
“Well,” Dad said, “when you’re sincere about what you’re saying, you really mean it. Take last night for instance. When your mother asked you to do the dishes, you said that you’d be happy to. But you weren’t sincere, because you complained the whole time. You didn’t really mean what you had said. But when you told me that you loved me and then went straight to bed when I asked you to, I knew that you’d been sincere, because you showed me that you did love me.”
“Can you always tell is someone is being sincere?” I asked.
“No,” said Dad. “A lot of times you can’t tell. But you can always know within yourself if you really mean what you say.”
I thought about that all week long, and I wondered, How will Sister Wallace know if we’re sincere and should get something special?
Sunday morning I woke up early. I took a shower and put on my best tie. I wanted to look extra nice, just in case I decided to bear my testimony.
Mark’s family sat next to mine during fast and testimony meeting. Just before it started, Mark leaned over and said, “Well, this is it.”
I tried to smile, but I couldn’t. Now that we were in the chapel, I was kind of scared.
Lisa Wilkes was the first person to bear her testimony after the bishop. As she sat down, she glanced over at Sister Wallace and smiled.
For a while nobody else in my class got up. Then about halfway through the meeting I saw Mark slowly edge out of his seat. Oh no, I thought. Now I’ll have to bear my testimony. I just couldn’t stand the thought of watching Mark eat his candy bar and listening to him tell me what a chicken I’d been.
Mark seemed nervous, but he took the microphone when it was handed to him, cleared his throat, and mumbled a few words so fast that before I knew it, he had finished and sat down.
After catching his breath, he looked over at me and grinned. “That wasn’t so tough,” he whispered. “I can hardly wait till we get to class.”
I tried to smile but couldn’t. Something was wrong. Mark’s testimony hadn’t seemed right. It didn’t seem as if he’d cared much about what he was saying, and I remembered what my dad had told me.
After a while Mark leaned over and whispered, “Aren’t you going to stand up? You want to get a candy bar, don’t you?”
I did want a candy bar, but I still hesitated. Suddenly Sister Wallace’s words came back to me. “Bearing your testimony is a way to express … what the gospel means to you and why you believe in it.” That was it! That’s what sincerely bearing your testimony really means. It isn’t a way to get chocolate bars or to please your Primary teacher or to be like your best friend. It’s a way to sincerely let others know why you are thankful for the gospel.
Suddenly I wanted to bear my testimony—because I had a lot of things to be thankful for. I thought over exactly what I wanted to say before I stood up. I loved my family and Heavenly Father and my teachers at church and all the Church leaders. And I knew that I wanted to go on a mission when I was older, so I decided to mention that too.
I was still nervous, but I felt really good as I stood up. When I got the microphone, I cleared my throat and said, “I want to bear my testimony …”
It wasn’t a very long testimony, but I meant every word of it. When I sat down, I had a special feeling come over me. I can’t describe it, but it was the greatest feeling in the whole world.
When we got to Primary class, Mark was licking his lips. I’m sure that he was still thinking about a giant candy bar. When Sister Wallace went over to the chalkboard and began hanging up some pictures, he couldn’t stand it any longer. “What about the treat that you said we’d get if we bore our testimonies?” he asked.
Sister Wallace turned around. “What treat?”
The excitement on Mark’s face instantly vanished. He looked around the room at each of the kids before he sheepishly said, “You said that we’d get something special if we bore our testimonies.”
Sister Wallace sat down in a chair, looked straight at Mark, and asked, “Didn’t you already get something special?”
Mark fidgeted for a minute. “No,” he said in a whisper. “I thought that you were going to give us something.”
Sister Wallace looked at Lisa and me. “Did either one of you receive something special?”
My stomach almost tied itself into a knot, but I knew that I had to answer. “I did,” I said.
Sister Wallace smiled. “Why don’t you tell us about it, Adam.”
“Well,” I began. “You said that we had to be sincere in order to get something special. I tried to think about what the gospel means to me before I bore my testimony. And then I tried to speak clearly so that everyone would know that I really meant it.”
Sister Wallace nodded. “You bore a beautiful testimony, Adam, and I could tell that you meant every word. But tell me, what special thing did you receive?”
“It was a special feeling,” I said. “I can’t exactly explain it, but it felt real good.”
“That’s exactly what I knew you’d receive,” said Sister Wallace. “That feeling was the Holy Ghost letting you know that what you were saying was true.” She turned to Mark and added, “Don’t worry, Mark. You’ll have many opportunities to bear your testimony. And when you do it sincerely, you’ll receive that special feeling too.”
All that day I carried that feeling with me. I was glad that Sister Wallace hadn’t given us any candy bars. That would have ruined it. When I said my prayers that night, I thanked Heavenly Father for giving me the courage to bear my testimony. But mostly I thanked Him for teaching me about being sincere so that I could feel the Spirit, the best gift of all.

The Brethren gathered in that meeting listened with anticipation, for a number of vacancies among the General Authorities were to be filled at the approaching conference. The First Presidency called a new member of the Quorum of the Twelve, Elder Boyd K. Packer, and then Joseph heard, to his amazement, his own name. The Lord had called him to serve as an Assistant to the Quorum of the Twelve. He looked up with surprise and wondered if he had heard correctly. All the Brethren were looking at him—the men whom he had felt it an honor to serve—and realized that he was now to be numbered with them. “Nothing was further from my mind,” he said later.

Manti, Utah, USA, 1869
Lorena Washburn watched her mother get ready for Relief Society. “Can’t I come just this once?” she begged.
Mother smiled. “You can come when you’re grown.”
“I am grown! I’m nine years old.”
Mother kissed Lorena’s head. “Perhaps a little more grown, then.”
Lorena decided to visit her friend Anna while their mothers were at Relief Society. Back in those days, Relief Society was held on a weekday. The girls played jackstraws and talked about what it would be like when they could finally join Relief Society.
Anna sighed as she flicked a piece of straw off the top of the pile. “I wish we had our own Relief Society.”
Lorena paused. “Why don’t we make one?”
“Our own Relief Society?”
“Yes!” Lorena jumped up. “We could make a Junior Relief Society!”
Anna jumped to her feet too. “We could!” she said. “We should talk to the other girls to see what they think.”
Lorena and Anna went around the neighborhood and invited the other girls to Lorena’s house. When they had all arrived, Lorena told them about her idea. They were all so excited to have their own organization!
“My mother is the Relief Society president,” Lorena said. “When she comes back, I’ll ask her for permission to organize our Junior Relief Society.”
When Mother came home, she was surprised to see 25 girls crowded into the parlor. Lorena stood up tall and straight. “Mother, with your permission, we want to organize our own Junior Relief Society.”
Mother’s eyebrows flew up. Lorena was worried that she would say no, but instead she smiled.
“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” said Mother. “I’ll pay Bishop Moffatt a visit right now and see what he thinks.”
It felt like years before Mother came back, but finally she did.
“What did the bishop say, Sister Washburn?” Hannah asked eagerly. Lorena held her breath.
“He gives his hearty approval!” Mother said. The girls cheered.
Lorena was so excited that she asked if the girls wanted to organize right then and there. They chose Lorena as president, Anna and Alice as counselors, Hannah as secretary, and Sally as treasurer.
“We should invite all the other girls our age too,” Lorena said.
Alice frowned. “Even the ones we don’t really like?”
“Yes!” said Lorena. “We wouldn’t want to leave anyone out, would we?”
“You’re right,” said Alice. “I’m sure we could all get along.”
“We should make it a rule,” Lorena said. “No one should say an unkind word to or about anybody while we’re in our meetings.”
And with that, the Junior Relief Society had begun. They met every Saturday at two o’clock in the Washburns’ grain house. They worked hard like they had seen their mothers work in Relief Society. They started making their very own quilt. Every week they brought cloth and thread and even eggs to trade for calico fabric from the store. They eventually presented two fine hand-sewn quilt tops to the Manti Relief Society.
The girls loved to sing while they sewed. Lorena and Anna wrote a special Relief Society song just for them:
Hurrah, hurrah, our quilts we have begun!
Hurrah, hurrah, we are having lots of fun!
And while we are united, together we will come
In the old board granary of Washburns.
After a few years, Lorena moved away, and the Junior Relief Society came to an end. Lorena was sad to leave her friends behind. But she got to visit often, and it was always like coming home to family.

My four-year-old niece Mollie was playing at her grandmother’s house one day when she asked if she could cross the street to visit a favorite aunt. Mollie was cautioned to look carefully both ways before crossing. Always an inquisitive child, she questioned this procedure, so her grandmother replied, “You could easily get hit by a car, and I love you so much I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
Before long Mollie was back. “You lied to me! You said I would get hit by a car if I didn’t look both ways. Well, I closed my eyes and ran over and back and a car didn’t hit me!”
Just as a loving grandmother cautioned a four-year-old child to look both ways before crossing a street, a loving Father in Heaven has given us detailed instructions to ensure our happiness and safe arrival at our ultimate destination. Yet we often question the consequences, or think we can get away with taking chances, so we close our eyes to some of God’s commandments and cross the street of life. At such times it appears that we might not get hurt if we obey only some of God’s laws. But the Lord has said, “Keep my commandments.” He didn’t say, “Look this list over and pick out what you think applies,” or “Try to work on part of these some of the time.” His instructions were simple, yet direct and unqualified—“Keep my commandments.”
My four-year-old granddaughter Jordan asks “why” after almost everything I say. I realize her need to understand and I explain as much as possible. But there are occasions when no amount of explaining can penetrate her level of understanding. And so it is with us. Our mortal minds are limited. How tedious it must become when we continue to question what we cannot comprehend. Often the consequences from our actions are not immediately visible and our obedience requires some faith. Elder Neal A. Maxwell has said, “Obedience, among other things, provides us with a grace period. During this period, we go forward out of a sense of duty, doing what we should do before we have all the answers as to why” (Meek and Lowly, Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Co., 1987, p. 114).
Many of us wish we could counsel with the Lord concerning situations in our lives. What we sometimes fail to realize is that we can! We have been given personalized counsel in the form of a perfect road map detailed specifically for us in ancient scripture and modern-day revelation. Just tune in to general conference, and you will be astounded at the solutions to your own problems that you will hear from the Lord’s chosen leaders.
We have also been given the ultimate model. The Savior’s life is the perfect example for us to follow. And if our footsteps falter, because of the Atonement, and through our own repentance, we are welcomed back to the pathway of righteousness.
Tucked inside our own personal road map, we have been given a promise concerning our willingness to follow the commandments of the Lord. We are told that the Lord is bound when we do what he says. And then, we are given a caution. When we do not what he says, we have no promise. (See D&C 82:8–10.)
It is pretty clear, isn’t it? We cannot afford to be selectively obedient. We must be steadfastly obedient. In the Doctrine and Covenants, we are told, “When we obtain any blessing from God, it is by obedience to that law upon which it is predicated” (D&C 130:21).
If we are willing to put our trust in the Lord and keep his commandments, we have been promised that we will be blessed. The blessing might not come in the form of straight A’s, having a date every Friday night, or inheriting a lot of money. But we will grow in capacity, experiencing joy along the way as we keep more and more of the commandments and eventually become prepared for a celestial existence.
The catch in all of this is that our level of obedience determines the outcome. Whether we are studying music or microbiology, we all know that success hinges on how thoroughly we study or how hard we practice. Does it really surprise us that God operates in this same cause-and-effect manner?
Douglas Smoot, Dean of the College of Engineering and Technology at Brigham Young University, once told me, “It is impossible to leap from the top of a building and disobey the law of gravity. Placing one’s finger in an electric outlet will cause an electrical flow through a person’s body irrespective of intent. Fundamental laws of nature cannot be disobeyed.”
I thought about Dean Smoot’s comments, and how we as humans constantly try to push the laws of nature as well as the laws of God, when I read in the newspaper about a young man celebrating his birthday at a hotel. He and his friends had been drinking and were probably not thinking clearly when he decided to jump from one tenth-floor balcony to the next. Being successful the first time, he attempted a second leap and fell to his death. “We were just out having a good time,” said his friend, “but now] I realize how quickly life can be taken away.”
Use this tragic story to illustrate what happens when our judgment is impaired and we refuse to obey the laws God has given us—both physical and spiritual. In this case, the consequence of falling from that high up seems pretty obvious. But there will be times when we will feel physically or spiritually impaired and will not realize what could happen if we choose to disobey, or if we walk too close to the edge of disobedience. If only we could realize that the momentary pleasure we might feel by an act of disobedience can never be equal to the feelings of peace and happiness that result from obedience.
Joseph Smith assured us, “As God has designed our happiness—and the happiness of all His creatures, he never has—he never will institute an ordinance or give a commandment to His people that is not calculated in its nature to promote that happiness which He has designed” (Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith, p. 256).
Sometimes we are tempted to test the law, as Mollie did, and even question the wisdom of the lawgiver. We may feel that we find freedom in disobedience as we dash across life’s highway with our eyes closed. But as Elder Boyd K. Packer has said, “Obedience—that which God will never take by force—he will accept when freely given. And he will return to you freedom that you can hardly dream of—the freedom to feel and to know, the freedom to do and the freedom to be, at least a thousandfold more than we offer him. Strangely enough, the key to freedom is obedience” (Obedience, BYU Speeches of the Year, Provo, 7 Dec. 1971, p. 4).

It took a lot of time and sincere effort to break bad habits. Eventually I was judged by my priesthood leader as worthy to serve a mission. The best feeling in the world was to go to the temple and know I am clean. The Spirit I wanted to feel during all those teenage years came flooding into my heart and life. I am so thankful for the Atonement of Jesus Christ.
The adversary still works on me, trying to get me to backslide. But I have learned to put on the armor of God every day. I know Jesus Christ loves me, and I love Him.

When our children were young, our family motto was “We work before we play.” We told them we could do all the playing they wanted, but the work—chores, homework, music practice—had to be finished first. They would often roll their eyes when we offered that reminder.
But as they grew, they expressed gratitude for that principle, and now since becoming parents, they continue to do so. When our grandson was two years old, we went to Tacoma, Washington, to tend him while his parents went out of town. One day I was having so much fun with our grandson that I suggested we go outside and play after lunch. He said, “Grandma, we work before we play.”
In the Church, we often talk about work: missionary work, temple work, family history work, building temples, building the kingdom of God, the work of salvation, the Creation, the Restoration, and eternal progress. All of these require work. God the Father and His Son, Jesus Christ, exemplify perfectly the principle of hard work.
God said, “For behold, this is my work and my glory—to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man” (Moses 1:39). The prophet Isaiah wrote, “But now, O Lord, thou art our father; we are the clay, and thou our potter; and we all are the work of thy hand” (Isaiah 64:8). Think of it! Everything we are and all we enjoy as sons and daughters of God are the result of His holy work! The Savior worked out our salvation by paying for our sins through His atoning sacrifice in the Garden of Gethsemane and on the cross at Calvary. “And being in an agony he prayed more earnestly: and his sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground” (Luke 22:44).
Our Heavenly Father invites us to become more like Him. One way we can do this is to give our best and honest effort in education, employment, homemaking, and developing our talents. Good, honest, sweat-producing labor is refining. It can develop character and strengthen bodies and minds. The Lord told Adam and Eve, “Cursed is the ground for thy sake; in sorrow shalt thou eat of it all the days of thy life” (Genesis 3:17). President Joseph Fielding Smith (1876–1972) taught, “It is contrary to the law of God for the heavens to be opened and messengers to come to do anything for man that man can do for himself.”
And Elder D. Todd Christofferson of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles testified:
“A consecrated life is a life of labor. Beginning early in His life, Jesus was about His Father’s business (see Luke 2:48–49). God Himself is glorified by His work of bringing to pass the immortality and eternal life of His children (see Moses 1:39). We naturally desire to participate with Him in His work, and in so doing, we ought to recognize that all honest work is the work of God. …
“God has designed this mortal existence to require nearly constant exertion. … By work we sustain and enrich life. It enables us to survive the disappointments and tragedies of the mortal experience. Hard-earned achievement brings a sense of self-worth. Work builds and refines character, creates beauty, and is the instrument of our service to one another and to God. A consecrated life is filled with work, sometimes repetitive, sometimes menial, sometimes unappreciated but always work that improves, orders, sustains, lifts, ministers, aspires.”
Many of us wonder how we can help those who are suffering more than we perceive ourselves to suffer. When we respect and participate in the sacred blessing of work, we are able to help others. Elder Robert D. Hales (1932–2017) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles said, “The purpose of both temporal and spiritual self-reliance is to get ourselves on higher ground so that we can lift others in need.” And in the Book of Mormon, King Benjamin says, “When ye are in the service of your fellow beings ye are only in the service of your God” (Mosiah 2:17).
As welfare and self-reliance specialists in the Church’s Wasatch Front Service Mission, my husband and I are blessed to work to help local leaders and members. Elder Hales explained that “the welfare plan is an integral part of the plan of salvation” and that “the scriptures provide the spiritual framework for the welfare plan.”
When we work hard in our fields of labor, live within our means, save for an unforeseen difficulty, and pay tithes and generous fast offerings, we collectively become the Lord’s storehouse. “And all this for the benefit of the church of the living God, that every man may improve upon his talent, that every man may gain other talents, yea, even an hundred fold, to be cast into the Lord’s storehouse, to become the common property of the whole church” (Doctrine and Covenants 82:18).
The Savior is the perfect example of hard work and self-reliance. In the great Intercessory Prayer, He prayed, “I have glorified thee on the earth: I have finished the work which thou gavest me to do” (John 17:4). Our Redeemer worked out our salvation alone. And His work today is hastening. He said, “Behold, I will hasten my work in its time” (Doctrine and Covenants 88:73). He gives us the opportunity to work with Him and to have a purpose in the labor we do and that which we are able to share with others because of our hard work.
In the mid-1980s, my husband and I were newly married and getting ready to move away to law school. We were worried about having enough money to make the move. We had always been self-reliant and did not want to ask our families for help, and the amount we needed was large. We had been praying about what to do. Out of the blue, I was commissioned to do a large art project for the college we attended. It would pay exactly what we needed. This experience was a direct blessing of paying tithing. But it was also something more. The Lord blessed me with the opportunity to work for that money. He gave me a way to earn it myself, and He honored my agency. I could have turned down the offer. I had a full-time job and a major Church calling, but I made the time and completed the project. We paid our own way to move.
I testify that the Lord wants and expects us to work and to be self-reliant. It is His way. Work and self-reliance are true principles of the gospel of Jesus Christ. Now that my husband and I have served seven years in the Wasatch Front Service Mission, more than ever I have tremendous respect for our Heavenly Father. He wants to help His children, but He knows it would not be good for us if He were to do for us what we can do for ourselves.
Our son is a new hematology-oncology doctor. He has had the blessing of obtaining all his medical school education and training through a scholarship from the United States Army Medical Department (AMEDD). It has provided 100 percent of his tuition, housing costs, and expenses and even a small monthly stipend during medical school. When he was working hard to qualify for that scholarship and fearing the possibility of having to take out six-figure loans if he did not, I remember a conversation we had. I will never forget what he shared. My son told me that he knew it would all work out somehow because he was committed to paying tithes and fast offerings while he was in medical school.
He wanted to know he was doing everything he could to qualify for the Lord’s help with the large task he was setting out to accomplish. His work ethic has since been tested to its limit, but he is a good example to me of never being weary in well doing (see Doctrine and Covenants 64:33). Even with his busy hospital schedule, he has happily accepted heavy Church assignments, and he and his wife and little family have been blessed.
I testify that the Lord will bless us with the power and strength we need to work hard and be self-reliant, if that is what we desire. Our Father in Heaven honors our agency, and when we show Him we want to be like Him, He shows how to do it, and He helps us to be successful. We honor God and His Son, Jesus Christ, when we follow Their example of honest and worthwhile labor.
The author lives in Utah.