Gospel Story Finder

Two elders in the Moses Lake area used an “ash approach” while spending the entire week helping nonmembers sweep ash from their homes. “We looked at the cleanup we did as missionary work,” said Elder Greg Bluth who with Elder Michael Ostler helped clean the ash from twelve homes. “People found out we were missionaries when they asked how much we charged, and we told them nothing. We talked about the gospel as much as possible.”

Among the friends I made in the theater business was a fine man who was a great success as the star of his own network television show. He was also an outstanding business man. Through our association over the years, we had many interesting experiences. One special experience stands out in my mind as a personal example to me that what the Lord said to Hyrum really does apply today.

This story began when my friend and I had an occasion to fly to Mexico with two very wealthy friends of his in a private, executive jet that was owned by one of the two men. The arrangements were that I was to fly from Salt Lake City to join the others at the Los Angeles Airport. I boarded their jet, and we began our flight to Mexico. On board I was introduced to a man who is reported to be one of the most wealthy men in the world. His personal net worth was estimated at that time to be in excess of 2 billion dollars! The seating arrangement within the executive jet was such that four seats were grouped in one compartment, and we were invited to sit with this wealthy man. As I look back on this experience, it is somewhat amusing to me that in my humble circumstances I would have been sitting with two millionaires and one billionaire.

As the jet took off from the Los Angeles International Airport, the conversation became most interesting to me. These three wealthy executives spent the first little while talking about the various multi-million dollar business deals in which they had recently been involved. I must admit that I sat in wonderment as I listened to their conversation, but as time went on, it became progressively more apparent to me that the most important thing in the life of the billionaire was his desire to make and accumulate more and more money. I studied very carefully the billionaire’s attitude and philosophy of life as he talked to us. He seemed to me to have found great power with his wealth, and money was certainly the center of everything that was important to him. He discussed his vast, worldwide financial empire and earthly possessions.

By the time we landed at our destination, it had become abundantly clear to me that the billionaire, with all of his wealth, was really a most unhappy and spiritually deprived man. During the conversation I had learned that he had no children of his own. He had no definite faith in God and no positive assurance of hope for a life after death. He seemed to me to epitomize the words of the Savior when He said:
“Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon the earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal:
“But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal:
“For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.” (Matt. 6:19–21.)

We completed our business in Mexico and again boarded the jet to return to Los Angeles. Upon our arrival I bade these three men good-bye and boarded a commercial flight to return to my home in Salt Lake City. During the flight I had time to ponder what had taken place during the past two days. When I walked into my home, my wife Barbara greeted me, and her first question to me was, “How did the meetings go?” My response to her question was, “Honey, we may not have very much money, but I do know this—of the four men aboard that plane, I was by far the richest man of them all because I was the only one who knew where I came from, why I am here on this earth, and where I can go in the eternities to come if I am faithful.”

My wife and I discussed this experience, and as we did, again the words of the Lord seemed to ring clearly in my mind. He said:
“No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon.
“Therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment?
“But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you.” (Matt. 6:24–25, 33.)

The billionaire, with all of his hundreds of millions of dollars, cannot buy what comes to members of the Church freely when we accept and live the teachings of the gospel. How blessed we are as a people! How rich we are individually because of our knowledge that we, in fact, do possess the eternal truths of the gospel of Jesus Christ. Just imagine—the most valuable treasure a man can have in this life comes freely, without monetary price, to all men everywhere when they embrace the gospel of Jesus Christ and live its teachings.

I am grateful for this unusual experience because I now understand more clearly than ever before that the most important asset one can have in this life is the personal, inner peace and positive assurance that come in knowing that the purpose of this life is for men to learn how to prepare for eternal living in the presence of our Heavenly Father and his Son, Jesus Christ. The billionaire will not take one cent of his wealth with him when he dies, and perhaps only then will he realize that the greatest possession a man can obtain is the knowledge that humble service to our fellowmen, love of family, and knowledge of eternal truths make a man rich. As the Lord said to Hyrum, “Behold, he that hath eternal life is rich.” [D&C 11:7]

I was in Vernal, Utah, near the Colorado border, and met a sister who had just helped a family of five join the Church. She said she was down at the grocery store and saw this woman having trouble finding groceries. “Can I help?” she asked. After helping her, she asked if the woman was just traveling through. The woman said she and her husband were traveling to Colorado to find work, and our sister said, “Well, why don’t you look around here?”

“Oh we wouldn’t know where to look,” said the woman.

“Well,” our good sister said, “let me help you out. Let’s get your groceries and come on over to our home and maybe I can help your husband meet some people who can help him get a job.”

The sister got on the phone and within an hour or two, the man was on the way out to interview for some jobs. He accepted one of them, working and helping to manage a ranch.

Well, do you think this good Samaritan sister stopped there? I should say not. The family of five had nowhere to stay, and so they were invited to stay at her home that night, where they saw happy family life, blessing of the food, family prayers, night and morning, and all the rest. The man and his wife and three children were most appreciative and were interested in this sister and her family. She said that after they got settled, she’d like to let them know why they were the way they were. A week later, she took the missionaries out to this man and his wife—and the family was baptized and eagerly entered the Church. And through it all, our good sister and others provided a transition into the community.

The COVID-19 pandemic has been one of the many trials and challenges that God’s children have confronted throughout the history of the world. At the beginning of this year, my beloved family and I lived through some dark days. The pandemic and other causes brought death and pain to our family through the passing of some dear loved ones. Despite medical attention, fasting, and prayer, during the course of five weeks my brother Charly, my sister Susy, and my brother-in-law Jimmy crossed to the other side of the veil.
At times I have wondered why the Savior cried when He saw Mary anguished by the death of her brother, Lazarus, even though He knew that He had the power to raise Lazarus and that very soon He would use this power to rescue His friend from death. I am amazed by the Savior’s compassion and empathy for Mary; He understood the indescribable pain that Mary felt at the death of her brother, Lazarus.
We feel that same intense pain when we experience the temporary separation from our loved ones. The Savior has perfect compassion for us. He doesn’t fault us for our shortsightedness nor for being limited in visualizing our eternal journey. Rather, He has compassion for our sadness and suffering.
Heavenly Father and His Son, Jesus Christ, want us to have joy. President Russell M. Nelson has taught: “The joy we feel has little to do with the circumstances of our lives and everything to do with the focus of our lives. When the focus of our lives is on God’s plan of salvation, … we can feel joy regardless of what is happening?—or not happening?—in our lives.”
When I was a young missionary, I remember when a marvelous missionary that I had come to admire received some devastating news. His mother and his younger brother had passed away in a tragic accident. The mission president offered this elder the option to return home for the funeral. However, after speaking with his father on the phone, this missionary decided to stay and finish his mission.
A short time later, when we were serving in the same zone, my companion and I received an emergency call; some thieves had stolen the bicycle belonging to this same missionary and had injured him with a knife. He and his companion had to walk to the nearest hospital, where my companion and I met up with them. On the way to the hospital, I was grieving for this missionary. I imagined that his spirits would be low and that surely, after this traumatic experience, he would now want to return home.
However, when we arrived at the hospital, I saw this missionary lying in his bed, waiting to be taken into surgery—and he was smiling. I thought, “How could he be smiling at a time like this?” While he was recuperating in the hospital, he enthusiastically handed out pamphlets and copies of the Book of Mormon to the doctors, nurses, and other patients. Even with these trials, he did not want to go home. Rather, he served until the last day of his mission with faith, energy, strength, and enthusiasm.
At the beginning of the Book of Mormon, Nephi states, “Having seen many afflictions in the course of my days, nevertheless, having been highly favored of the Lord in all my days.”
I think of the many trials that Nephi experienced, many of which are included in his writing. His trials help us understand that we all have our dark days. One of these trials occurred when Nephi was commanded to return to Jerusalem to obtain the brass plates that Laban had in his possession. Some of Nephi’s brothers were men of little faith, and they even beat Nephi with a stick. Nephi experienced another trial when he broke his bow and could not obtain food for his family. Later, when Nephi was commanded to build a ship, his brothers mocked him and refused to help him. Despite these and many other trials during the course of his life, Nephi always recognized the goodness of God.
As his family was crossing the ocean on the way to the promised land, some of Nephi’s family “began to make themselves merry,” speak harshly, and forget that it was the Lord’s power that had preserved them. When Nephi chastised them, they became offended and bound him with cords so that he was unable to move. The Book of Mormon states that his brethren “did treat [him] with much harshness”; his wrists and ankles “were much swollen, and great was the soreness.” Nephi was grieved with the hardness of his brothers’ hearts and at times felt overcome with sorrow. “Nevertheless,” he declared, “I did look unto my God, and I did praise him all the day long; and I did not murmur against the Lord because of mine afflictions.”
My dear brothers and sisters, how do we react to our afflictions? Do we murmur before the Lord because of them? Or, like Nephi and my former missionary friend, do we feel thankful in word, thought, and deed because we are more focused on our blessings than on our problems?
Our Savior, Jesus Christ, gave us the example during His earthly ministry. In moments of difficulty and trial, there are few things that bring us greater peace and satisfaction than serving our fellow man. The book of Matthew recounts what happened when the Savior learned that His cousin John the Baptist had been beheaded by King Herod to please the daughter of Herodias:
“And his disciples came, and took up the body, and buried it, and went and told Jesus.
“When Jesus heard of it, he departed thence by ship into a desert place apart: and when the people had heard thereof, they followed him on foot out of the cities.
“And Jesus went forth, and saw a great multitude, and was moved with compassion toward them, and he healed their sick.
“And when it was evening, his disciples came to him, saying, This is a desert place, and the time is now past; send the multitude away, that they may go into the villages, and buy themselves victuals.
“But Jesus said unto them, They need not depart; give ye them to eat.”
Jesus Christ showed us that during times of trial and adversity, we can recognize the difficulties of others. Moved with compassion, we can reach out and lift them. And as we do so, we are also lifted by our Christlike service. President Gordon B. Hinckley stated: “The best antidote I know for worry is work. The best medicine for despair is service. The best cure for weariness is the challenge of helping someone who is even more tired.”
In this, the Church of Jesus Christ, I have had many opportunities to minister and serve my fellow man. It is at those times when I feel that Heavenly Father lightens my burdens. President Russell M. Nelson is the prophet of God on the earth; he is a great example of how we should minister to others during difficult trials. I unite my testimony with those of many other Saints that God is our loving Heavenly Father. I have felt His infinite love during my dark days. Our Savior, Jesus Christ, understands our pains and our afflictions. He wants to ease our burdens and comfort us. We must follow His example by serving and ministering to those with even greater burdens than our own. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Five or six hundred of these last Saints crossed the Mississippi and camped on the riverbank in Iowa. They had only blankets and brush bowers for shelter. None of them had food for more than a few days, and many were very sick. Of all the Saints, these suffered the most.
On October 9, a miracle occurred. Flocks of quail flew into the camps, landing on the ground and even on the tables. The hungry Saints were able to catch the birds. The meat saved many people from starving and stirred their hearts as they realized that the Lord was caring for them.
Their fellow Saints had not forgotten them either. Many came back from the Missouri River to help. Others went into neighboring cities to seek money to aid the poor and sick. In the end, the refugees were rescued and divided among the various camps in Iowa, a few even reaching Winter Quarters.

It was June 12, 1895, the most important day of David Scott’s life he thought. It was his twelfth birthday and Mr. Ragan, an engineer, had promised to let him ride the train all the way to Benton, over sixty miles away. He had been in the cab of Mr. Ragan’s locomotive many times, but switching or creeping out of the rail yards wasn’t really riding on a train—not like today!
Tiptoeing downstairs, David slipped out the backdoor and into the misty chill of the morning air. If he could finish his chores early enough, maybe he could hitch a ride into town on one of the farm wagons going to market.
Hurrying to the woodpile, he carried two big armloads of kindling into the kitchen and placed them in the woodbox beside his mother’s black cookstove. As he entered the barn old Bessie, the black cow, bawled in complaint as he poured cracked corn into a pan to carry to the chicken yard. The barn cats tumbled about his feet, then followed him to the door, mewing. Like Bessie, they seemed surprised that he wasn’t milking first, but this was no ordinary morning.
By the time he finished the milking and had carried the pail of warm, sudsy milk to the springhouse, his mother had breakfast ready and a lunch packed for him. Racing down the lane, he heard Mr. Jule’s wagon coming over the steep hill. “Hop on, David,” Mr. Jule shouted as he saw the tall blond youth standing beside the roadside mailbox. After tossing his jacket and lunch into the back of the moving wagon, David leaped in, held on to the swaying side, and eased himself down, legs swinging as they traveled over the deep yellow ruts of the dirt road. I’ll make it in plenty of time, he thought happily.
At the depot he swung down from the wagon bed and thanked Mr. Jule for the ride.
“Are you ready for the big trip, David?” Mr. Ragan asked, leaping down from the cab of the steam-hissing locomotive. Such a giant of a man, David thought. He moves as easily as a cat.
“I sure am,” David answered, his face flushed with excitement. Then, stroking one of the big wheels, David asked, “Can I help you and Mr. Ellis check her over and oil her, Mr. Ragan?”
“Sure, I guess you can. My fireman will probably appreciate a little help—won’t you, Ellis?” Reaching up into the cab, Mr. Ellis handed down a large copper oilcan with a long spout. “But mind you do a good job,” he told David.
Grinning, the stationmaster said, “He ought to know how to do it, as many times as he’s watched. He heads straight here from school every afternoon. I don’t think that boy’s missed meeting the 4 P.M. train from Benton once in two years.” Turning, the stationmaster walked back into the depot with the engineer following.
Later as he perched on a box and leaned out the engineer’s window of the speeding train, David watched an approaching water tower. A moment ago it had only been a dark speck in the distance. He couldn’t believe they had already reached it. Such speed! It was almost like flying. If only I can be an engineer when I grow up, he thought, and by then trains will probably travel even faster.
Of course, it was a lot more complicated than David had thought when he first decided he’d be an engineer. You had to be pretty smart to know about all the levers and gauges and the air brakes that Mr. Ragan handled so easily. Then there were hand, flag, and lamp signals and the block signals and semaphores that tell the engineer to stop or to move ahead. These all had to be learned, besides the fixed signals along the track that told him the proper speed to maintain, the approach of a station crossing, and the whistle posts to let the engineer know when to start blowing a warning whistle. David sighed and wondered how long it had taken Mr. Ragan to learn everything.
“An engineer talks with his whistle,” Mr. Ragan had told him. “It’s like a code. Two long toots means to release brakes and one short toot means to stop. The whistle tells my crew exactly what to do—hop back on the train, protect front of train, or protect rear of train. Each series of short and long toots means something. And a number of short toots is an alarm for persons or livestock on the track.”
Eyes burning from the wind, David drew his head back inside and glanced across the cab at Mr. Ellis, the fireman. The gray-haired man seemed asleep, all scrunched down in his seat, swaying with the motion of the train. No, he looked sick! Tugging on Mr. Ragan’s jacket sleeve, David pointed at the slumped fireman.
“Can you shovel coal into that boiler, David?” Mr. Ragan shouted into his ear, above the deafening noise of the engine. “We’ve got to highball this train into Benton and get Ellis to a doctor. He looks mighty sick to me.”
Hastily David grabbed the shovel and began to toss coal into the cylindrical box of steel with its furnace at one end and smokebox at the other. “I wish we had Locomotive 999,” David mumbled, thinking of the engine that had broken all records by traveling 100 miles per hour two years before. Sweat streamed down his face as he stopped to toss more coal onto the searing fire. He had to keep it blazing to keep plenty of steam up for Mr. Ragan.
Numb with fatigue when the train finally came to a stop, David watched as the men lifted Mr. Ellis down from the locomotive and laid him on the Benton station platform. His face looked so pale that David wondered if he were still alive.
“Just leave him there a minute, boys,” the young doctor said, kneeling beside Mr. Ellis and taking a bottle from his open bag. Pouring some liquid onto a wad of cotton, he passed it back and forth under the nose of the unconscious man. Coughing, Mr. Ellis turned his head away and opened his eyes.
“How is he, doctor?” Mr. Ragan asked after a few moments. “Will he be all right?”
“Yes, I think he’ll be fine. There’s a nasty lump on the side of his head though. He must have hit it while he was firing the boiler. May be a concussion. It’s a good thing you got him here so fast. I’ll want to keep an eye on him today so you’ll have to send for another fireman for your trip back.”
“I have one,” Mr. Ragan said, smiling at David. “That is, if this young man thinks he can still handle that shovel half as well as he did coming in. What do you say, David?”
“Sure. Sure, I can, sir. Soon as I get her oiled,” David answered proudly, teeth gleaming through a layer of coal dust.
“Wait a minute,” protested Mr. Ellis, as the men started to help him into a wagon. “That boy’s a born railroader if I ever saw one, but he needs to borrow my red bandanna handkerchief to keep the sweat from running down his backbone, and my cap, too. Firing’s hot work.”
Turning to the engineer, he said, “Ragan, I predict this lad will be through school and ready to fire for you about the time I’m ready to retire. With a couple of years of study, he’ll make a first-rate engineer and have a locomotive of his own.”
Then shaking the boy’s hand, the firemen smiled. “Thanks a lot, son,” he said. And the men all grinned as David awkwardly knotted the big handkerchief around his neck and placed the high-crowned billed cap on his head.

After that experience, the temple was one of her favorite topics. “Chris, isn’t the temple a beautiful place? That’s where I’ll get married someday. I’ve promised myself that.”
“I guess I wouldn’t mind getting married there either,” I said. “It’s really no different than a cathedral.”
“It is different. When two people are married in the temple, they’re married forever.”
“That’s fine with me. I’ve always believed that true love lasts forever.”
Liz grew very serious. “You don’t understand. Only active members of the Church are allowed in the temple. You wouldn’t be allowed to enter.” She explained again that when her time came, she would be married in the temple. No other place was acceptable for her.
“But what if you really love a guy who’s not LDS?” I asked. “If you really love someone, it shouldn’t matter where you get married. All that matters is that you’re together and you’re in love.”
“If two people really love each other,” she answered shaking her head, “they’d never settle for anything less than an eternal relationship.” She paused and looked me in the eye. “I never would.”
As we neared the end of our senior year, we had many arguments about temple marriage. Liz maintained that she’d never marry outside of the temple. I argued that, in true love, the ceremony was not important. Love was eternal regardless of the type of marriage.
The more we discussed it, the more she talked about the temple and how special it was. I was confounded. It was obvious that we were falling in love, yet Liz wouldn’t budge on her temple marriage hang-up. I felt positive that if our love matured, she would eventually give in and agree to be married anywhere. I was wrong.
One afternoon at school, Liz met me at our locker. Her eyes were tearfully red, and her voice was taut with emotion. “Chris, I’ve decided that we can’t see each other anymore. We can’t go out again—ever.”
Her words stunned me. “What do you mean? Look, I don’t care what your parents think …”
She looked up at me with tears streaming down her face. “It’s not my parents. It’s me. I can’t allow myself to date you. I don’t want to fall in love with you.”
“Liz, you’re just upset. Why don’t we just talk this out like we’ve always done? You’ll feel better in a little while.”
She backed away from me. “No, I’ve made up my mind,” she sobbed. “I can’t afford to see you again!” She pressed a shiny black paperback into my hands and ran down the hall.
We stopped seeing each other. Liz started going out with LDS guys, and I moped around campus. I thought about the many discussions we’d had. What was it that made her so stubborn about a temple marriage? Why wouldn’t she compromise? What made her so special?
Several weeks after we broke up, I returned to school late one spring afternoon. I searched through the mess in my locker and soon found what I was looking for. The little black paperback was slightly dog-eared but still readable. Maybe it would answer some of my questions. I glanced around to make sure no one saw me carrying an LDS book, tucked it inside my jacket, and went home.
When I got home I hurried upstairs with my secret bundle and hid it in my desk drawer. I knew my parents wouldn’t approve of me reading Mormon “propaganda.”
Two weeks passed before I had a chance to be alone with the book. When I had the opportunity, I took the book out of my desk, stretched out on my bed, and started to read.
I opened the book, A Marvelous Work and a Wonder, and skimmed its pages. A section about the Joseph Smith story caught my eye, so I read it carefully. As I read the story of Joseph Smith’s vision, I knew that it was true. I also knew that if his story was true, then the church he founded must also be true.
A little later I agreed to take the missionary discussions, and I rapidly gained a testimony of the principles of the gospel. After the discussions, I knew that I should join the Church, and after much fasting, praying, and soul searching, I was baptized. Liz was there. She cried.
A little more than a year after I was baptized, Liz and I again visited the temple, this time to be married for time and all eternity. That was 13 years ago. Today, and every day, as I watch our family blossom and grow, I’m grateful for the strong testimony of that cute little Mormon girl. I’m thankful that she was courageous enough to refuse to compromise on an issue that meant eternal happiness for her, and eventually, for me too.

When I started my first semester of college in the United States, I was so excited. I was attending a school with a lot of Church members, and I had never been surrounded by so many people my age who believed the same things I did! I expected we would all share the same standards and help each other grow spiritually and intellectually.
However, I was surprised when my expectations fell a little short.
Back in my home city in Taiwan, Church members always seemed to take the gospel seriously. They never missed a chance to connect with Jesus Christ, and neither did I. There, I would go to the temple every month with my younger sister (who always motivated me to go), I never missed church meetings (because of my parents), and I always tried to make decisions that kept me connected to the Spirit, just like the people around me did.
But at school, while nobody was intentionally breaking commandments, for some people, the gospel seemed to be lower on their to-do lists. Some of them made choices that just teetered on the edge between the world and the gospel. Being on my own for the first time, I got busy and caught up in what everyone else around me was doing. I soon saw how easy it is to be influenced by the world around you when you’re not prioritizing the gospel.
When friends around me were making decisions that didn’t always align with gospel standards, I started to wonder if I was living in a way that was too spiritual. I wondered if I was the odd one out—if I was taking the gospel too seriously. I started to feel lonely, especially at church. I felt tempted to change my standards to fit in with the people around me.
However, around that time, President Russell M. Nelson shared a powerful message in general conference:
“We have never needed positive spiritual momentum more than we do now. … Spiritual momentum can help us withstand the relentless, wicked attacks of the adversary and thwart his efforts to erode our personal spiritual foundation.
“… I urge you to get on the covenant path and stay there. Experience the joy of repenting daily. Learn about God and how He works. Seek and expect miracles. …
“As you act on these pursuits, I promise you the ability to move forward on the covenant path with increased momentum, despite whatever obstacles you face.”
That’s when it hit me.
I had been more interested in what others were doing than my own personal relationship with the Savior. I even realized that my school was right next to a temple and I hadn’t been there yet! It also became clear how much I had relied on others to influence my spirituality back in Taiwan too.
I needed to do the work to reignite my spiritual momentum and focus on Christ—who should be my top motivator to live His gospel.
I started making some changes.
Even if I didn’t feel motivated to go to church or attend the temple or do anything spiritual some days, I chose to do so anyway and focus on my Savior. It didn’t matter what everyone else was doing.
The world makes it easy to take the blessings of the gospel for granted, but when I focus on Him, I remember what matters most.
Instead of wallowing in loneliness and focusing on the differences in how we are living our lives, I now reach out to others. I strive to make friends and note all the positive interactions I have with them, like a simple smile or a kind conversation.
I no longer compare my discipleship to others’. Instead, I focus on keeping my spiritual habits consistent and strengthening my relationship with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. When I prioritize my relationship with Them, I remember how much They love each of us perfectly, and it reminds me to offer grace to others just like They offer grace to me.
President Nelson also invited us “to take charge of your own testimony of Jesus Christ and His gospel. Work for it. Nurture it so that it will grow. Feed it truth. … As you make the continual strengthening of your testimony of Jesus Christ your highest priority, watch for miracles to happen in your life.”
The world makes being casual about your discipleship easy, especially when you’re on your own for the first time as a young adult. However, I encourage you to accept our prophet’s invitation to strengthen your foundation of faith in Jesus Christ.
Making Him a priority keeps me moving forward on the covenant path.

One ward youth group recently participated in an exciting family history activity. With classes taught by family history consultants and help from parents and relatives, these young people were able to clear 485 ancestral names for temple ordinance work, averaging nine family names each. Arrangements were then made for them to attend a temple session and be baptized for their ancestors. Seeing the excitement and interest of the young people, parents and leaders asked to join the group at the temple to perform the endowment and sealing ordinances. They testified of increased spiritual power and feelings of unity as they shared in this temple service for their ancestors.

As I look back over my life and remember the difficult decisions, one stands out far more than others: Should I go on a mission? Mom and dad want me to go. The bishop tells me I should go. Some of my friends are going, but others tell me it would be a mistake. They say: “Think of the fun you’ll miss.” “What about your education?” “How about your girl friend?” It just seems that there is so much going on that I can’t give up two years. What should I do?
Why should you serve a mission? Several things come to my mind as I think about the answer to this searching question. Surely, the answer is easy: The Lord says you should; the prophet has given repeated emphasis to this; your family, Church leaders, and others encourage you to serve—but they are not you. I remember having these thoughts. I also remember how good I felt, from the inside out, from the soles of my feet to the crown of my head, when I finally said yes. I received a confirmation from the Lord that what I had done was good. It was right, and I knew it. For once in my life I had started thinking about others instead of “number one” (me), and that gave me a feeling I have yearned for every day of my life since. It’s rewarding to give of yourself that others might be blessed. This is one of the reasons why our Savior made the following statement: “And he that taketh not his cross, and followeth after me, is not worthy of me. He that findeth his life shall lose it: and he that loseth his life for my sake shall find it.” (Matt. 10:38–39.)

Commit yourself to serve your companion. One of the surest ways to develop love for someone else is to serve in very personal ways. Two companions who had had some difficulties in getting along discovered this principle when one of them became ill and had to be in bed for a day. Elder Blake did everything he could to help care for his sick companion. Elder Waite was especially surprised when he woke up and found that during the time that he was running a fever and sleeping, Elder Blake had cleaned and shined his shoes and also made sure that everything was in order in their apartment. “I began to realize,” said Elder Waite, “that I needed to do more to be of service to my companion. Appreciation for each other and a real friendship began to develop from that day on.”

I was assigned to depict the Resurrection for the Coimbatore District open house during the Easter season. I was worried a bit about it, though I was pretty good at art and other work. My confidence was low since the suggested topic was on the final week of the Savior’s mortal life for me to portray. I was led by the Spirit to pray and ask for the Lord’s help and inspiration. This verse from the Holy Bible came to my mind as an answer to my prayer. It was Jeremiah 33:3.
I went on making objects like a crown of thorns, nails and whip, I pricked my finger many times while collecting the thorns. The pain I had and the few drops of blood which came out of my fingers made me to realize the love of our Heavenly Father, especially His unconditional love which is greater than anybody could give or receive on this earth. I felt so grateful that Christ had paid the penalty for my sins and has given me a chance to repent and to return to him. My daughter Saritha, along with the branch young single adults, helped me put our thoughts into reality.
On making the tomb to depict the Resurrection of Christ, I felt even happier that I can have my body restored to their proper and perfect frame [see Alma 40:23]. The Atonement helps me to prepare myself to meet God and the Resurrection helps me to live again. I know Jesus Christ is my Savior and Redeemer. I love Him for who He is and what He did for me.

I first heard the gospel while I was in Quebec City on a French language immersion program. I was placed in a French family together with two beautiful Latter-day Saint girls. At the time I was quite upset about the situation, for I was a very staunch Catholic and had been warned about the Mormons. Being brought up the way I was, I was also taught to make the best of every situation and to try to accept everyone. So I did just that, and before I knew it I was investigating the Church. The two girls knew that the Spirit was working in me, and they strongly urged me to write down my feelings no matter how crazy they were or whether they were contrary to what I believed. At the time I didn’t understand why, but I did so because I admired and trusted them. I found myself eagerly writing:
I took the first discussion today. I don’t know what came over me. The things the missionaries told me I know are not what I’ve believed for 18 years of my life, but somehow I felt myself believing them. I was excited about the things they told me. I felt weird all over while they were talking. At times I felt shivers up my spine. Dear Lord, something is happening to me, and I can’t figure it out—HELP!
The Lord did help, and the further along we got in the discussions the more I knew that the gospel was true. I felt I should have been rejecting what I was being taught, but deep down inside I knew of its truth and I kept writing those inner feelings down on paper. Before I knew it, I had a testimony of the Church. I was so excited, I phoned home and told my parents that I was getting baptized.
They pleaded with me to wait until I came home. So reluctantly I did. That night I wept bitterly because of my disappointment, and I wrote in my journal:
I feel so sad and depressed. I’ve prayed so hard about my decision. I know in my heart the gospel is true. I know Joseph Smith was a prophet and that we have a living prophet today. I believe in everything that I’ve been taught, and with my whole heart I desperately want to be baptized. I know my soul won’t be at rest until I am. I know I’m being called, and I won’t be completely happy until I take that step.
I was sincere when I wrote that, and I feel God was inspiring me for the future.

When I was a full-time missionary, I learned the importance of a sincere fast. A family we had been teaching was nearing baptism—all except the oldest daughter. As the oldest child, she was a spiritual leader for the rest of the family. But something was holding her back from joining the Church.
On a regular fast Sunday, my companion and I, along with her family, fasted for her. Then after sacrament meeting, we visited with the family briefly. As my companion was talking with the girl and her mother, I had one of those spiritual surprises that brighten the landscape of our lives. The Spirit made manifest to me what was holding her back from being baptized: She had a boyfriend in her own church who had experienced several spiritual manifestations, and she was concerned that she might be forsaking something very good. Then, through the Spirit, I perceived that the Lord knew her personally, understood her concern, and had great blessings ready to be poured out upon her.
In my excitement, I interrupted my companion and said, “I know what the problem is!” Both the mother and the daughter were startled and then tearful as I explained what the Holy Ghost had just made known to me. Then I bore testimony that I knew greater blessings would come to her than she ever dreamed possible if she would accept the gospel. We had a prayer and left for our next appointment.
Her tears worried me. I thought I might have offended her. But the next evening, when we returned with our zone leaders to interview the family for baptism, she asked, “May I be interviewed, too?”
“Yes,” I gasped. “But tell me what has happened.” She told me that I had been correct and that the Spirit had borne witness to her of the promises I had made to her. She was baptized along with her family. What great blessings had come to all of us as a result of that day of sincere fasting!

Sadness does not come from nothing, nor does it come suddenly or by chance. A short while ago, I felt sad and could not find a reason. When I prayed, I realized the Holy Ghost was trying to warn me that I was not choosing the right. I decided to change my spiritual state. I began to set goals, pray more, and study the Book of Mormon.
Juliana Lazzarotti dos Neves Oliveira, 17,Santa Clara Branch, Coimbra Portugal District

A few months prior to the start of my service as a full-time missionary for the Church, I was diagnosed with vocal nodules. Nodules are calluses that develop on your vocal cords as a result of consistent and overwhelming friction. Fortunately, I was still able to start my mission.
Then, three months into my mission, I went in for a checkup. I learned there was a bleed on my vocal cord and that I would be on almost complete vocal rest for the next eight months.
I started my vocal rest immediately. I would avoid talking each day until about 3:00 p.m., using sign language to communicate with my companion. After that, I would talk only when absolutely necessary. We made social media missionary work a much bigger part of our daily schedule, and my companion took the lead in all contacts and teaching appointments.
But as the vocal rest continued, instead of feeling better, I felt even more intense burning in my throat nearly all the time. I had to save the few words I could speak for special occasions, and my world grew very lonely. I hardly felt like myself anymore. The outgoing, bubbly, 20-year-old girl I was just a few short weeks earlier was now quiet, reserved, and struggling to know how she fit in. I found myself crying multiple times a day. As each unspoken thought or feeling was swallowed in silence, I was losing myself.
On one particular occasion, I felt more darkness than usual and prayed for some glimmer of hope. It was then that the words to one of my favorite hymns came to mind:
There is music in my soul today,
A carol to my King,
And Jesus listening can hear
The songs I cannot sing.1
I was immediately struck by the last phrase and overwhelmed with the love my Savior has for me. I knew in that moment that I wasn’t alone. I wasn’t invisible. And I certainly wasn’t forgotten.
One of my favorite phrases from the scriptures is “song of the heart” (Doctrine and Covenants 25:12). I realized I didn’t need my physical voice to be heard by Heavenly Father and by the Savior. They are always listening to every thought, prayer, heartache, and question, whether spoken out loud or not. I thought I was losing myself because I couldn’t speak, but without a word having ever been uttered, the songs sung by a silent, struggling young girl—the songs of my heart—rose to heaven and brought peace to my soul.
Although I have yet to receive my healing miracle, I have been empowered by the advice of President Spencer W. Kimball (1895–1985) to “be patient, do your part, and express gratitude for the smallest improvement noted.”2 With every step in the right direction, I feel reassured that “this too shall pass.” In the last few months, I’ve been able to end my vocal rest earlier in the afternoon and talk with less pain.
I do not know when I will receive complete physical healing, but I have seen emotional healing come in many different ways. I’ve learned that the key to overcoming hardship is maintaining a close and direct relationship with God. This includes not only praying but also being quiet long enough to hear His voice. Instead of asking, “Why?” I started asking, “What did my trial give me today?” As I did, I began to see traces of God all around me.
Because of my trial, I have learned the importance of slowing down and connecting with my heavenly roots. I have also been blessed to appreciate more fully the musical gifts and abilities of others. Not being able to speak has allowed me to listen more to others and deepen my compassion for them. On the other hand, I have been reminded of the strength that comes from letting others help me.
Throughout my physical trials, I’ve come to learn that hope is not crossing our fingers or holding our breath for a desired outcome. Hope is not hanging on until we see the light at the end of the tunnel. Hope is the lantern we carry on our way through. It is what helps us move forward and shows us that we are not walking alone but with Heavenly Father and the Savior every step of the way.

For the first time in 27 years, members of the Lakepa-Toi Branch travelled 2,484 kilometres away from their island home to worship together at the Hamilton New Zealand Temple in January 2023.
Individuals and families saved, raised funds, offered many prayers and fasted to make the trip possible.
They also participated in family history research, gathering information for 120 deceased loved ones.
In the temple, the Niue members acted in the place of their loved ones to receive baptism and other sacred temple ordinances.
Timothy Wilson, president of the Lakepa-Toi Branch, said, “It was great to see so many of our branch members . . . doing sacred work for those who have passed on.”
He added, “We felt so close to our Saviour Jesus Christ in the temple. It was spiritually uplifting for me, for the members of the branch who have been away from the temple for so long, and for our youth who were experiencing the temple for the first time.”

Jesus Christ was kind to everyone He met. He is a great example of kindness to me. One day when I was in first grade, I was the leader of the day in my class. Part of being a leader of the day was choosing someone to help me carry the lunch basket filled with lunch boxes to the cafeteria. I stood in front of the class and looked out at my classmates, trying to decide who to choose. All of my good friends were raising their hands, and at first I wanted to choose one of them. But then I noticed a boy standing in the back of the room. He didn’t have many friends, and sometimes people were not very nice to him. He never got chosen for anything. Something inside my heart told me to pick him. When I picked him to be my helper, everyone else acted surprised, but he got a big smile on his face. After lunch my teacher pulled me aside and whispered in my ear, “Thank you for picking him. That was a very kind thing to do.” All day I felt really good inside.

If you get into an argument with a family member, hug and make up! Ezra A. from Australia, says, “When you get into a fight, rather than keeping a grudge, just be a bigger person and say sorry—straight afterward. One time I was fighting with my sister. We had a big argument, and instead of holding a grudge I just said sorry and ended it there. It felt good to get rid of the anger and not feel a grudge anymore.”

When I joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints at age 35, one of the many things I quickly learned was that I needed to be willing to serve others. Whether it was to help someone move, offer lawn care, do repairs, or provide transportation, I tried as much as possible to respond to requests for service from my quorum or from individuals.
I felt that I was serving in a good way. In retrospect, however, I realize that I was serving out of a sense of duty and not out of a sense of love for those who needed help. I didn’t really view my service as trying to become the Lord’s hands.1
After I moved to central Missouri, I had the opportunity to serve an older couple. Their small, old country home needed a lot of repairs, including its leaky roof. The couple, however, suffered from serious health challenges that prevented them from doing physical labor.
On a hot day in July, my good friend Dallas Martin and I were up on the roof putting down new shingles. We were uncomfortable and dripping with sweat. Suddenly, Dallas stopped nailing, stood up, and looked at me.
“Do you realize how blessed we are to be the ones capable of being up here doing this work and not the ones inside who can’t?” he asked.
His question hit me like a bolt of lightning. It was literally a life-changing moment. My whole perspective on service took on new meaning. I realized how blessed I was to be able to do all the things that I could do.
At that moment, I felt that Dallas and I were not simply helping because of a sense of duty but were helping with a sense of gratitude. The Lord had blessed us with the ability to truly be His hands. With that realization, it was easy for me to feel love for those we were helping.
Since that day, whenever I have helped with a service project, or whenever someone has needed assistance that I was capable of providing, I have tried to keep that perspective in mind. I have not always been successful, but that perspective has been a huge blessing in my life. It has truly helped me keep a positive attitude about service.
When I have problems or challenges, I try to think of people who face more serious trials than I do. Then I express my thanks to the Lord for all the blessings He has given me.