Gospel Story Finder

Now I will close with my testimony. I was not raised in the LDS Church, but like Nephi of old, I was raised by goodly parents. My mother and father honored God and taught my three brothers and me to do the same. My mother, now a widow, still sets the example for me by attending Catholic mass seven days a week. In my 42 years of life, my mom has always been a constant source of spiritual strength for me.

While I was at West Point as an undergraduate, I came across the Book of Mormon. I read it as a skeptic, in an attempt to prove it wrong. Halfway through that sacred text, I came across Alma 32 and the experiment. Recall that Alma compares the Book of Mormon to a seed and explains that if a person performs the experiment of reading and praying over the Book of Mormon, he or she can find out through the witness of the Holy Spirit if it is true.

I took the experiment, my heart was softened, and the Spirit bore testimony to me that the Book of Mormon is the word of God. With this knowledge, it was confirmed to me that the Bible is also the word of God, for the Book of Mormon testifies of it. Joseph Smith was an actual prophet, for he translated the work. The Lord’s Church has been restored on earth in these latter days. And most important, the Book of Mormon clearly testifies that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the Living God.

It has been over 20 years since I felt the still, small voice testify to me that the Book of Mormon is the word of God. I have felt that testimony many times between then and now.

He loved the youth of the Church, as is evidenced by the experience of Heber J. Grant. Nine days after Heber’s birth, his father, Jedediah M. Grant, who was Second Counselor to President Brigham Young, died. For the next 21 years, Brigham Young took special interest in the boy Heber J. Grant.

Heber J. Grant wrote:
“I was almost as familiar in the homes of President Brigham Young as I was in the home of my own mother. In one home … if I was hungry I felt as free to go in and ask for something to eat there as in my own home. … I knelt down time and time again in his home in the Lion House at family prayers, as a child and as a young man.”

Tommy was smaller than the other boys. When he played football at school, he was often mowed down. When he played basketball, he got more elbows in his face than chances at the ball. But when it came to chicken wrestling on the monkey bars, Tommy was the greatest!
One day when Tommy was changing his clothes after school, his mother asked, “Tommy, where did you get all those bruises?”
“Oh, those,” said Tommy, and he grinned as he looked down at his black and blue legs. “Those are from chicken wrestling.”
“Chicken wrestling!” repeated his mother. “What on earth is that?”
“It’s when two kids swing out to the middle of the monkey bars from opposite sides,” answered Tommy. “Then they wrap their legs around each other and tug and pull. The toughest kid hangs on, and the other kid lets go and falls to the ground.”
“Tommy, you’re too little to play something like that with all those big boys,” said his mother. “No wonder your legs are bruised.”
Tommy grinned. “Well, I’m not very good at a lot of things,” he admitted, “but these skinny arms and hands can sure hang on to those monkey bars. I’ve beaten every kid in school so far except Bruiser Boswell, and I’m going to beat him today!”
“Bruiser Boswell? Who’s he?”
“Oh, he’s a big bully,” said Tommy. “He thinks he’s the toughest kid in school.”
“And you think you’re tougher than he is?” asked his mother.
“Not really,” replied Tommy. “He could beat me up in a hurry. I just think these skinny arms and hands can hang on to the monkey bars longer than his fat ones.”
When it was time for Tommy to meet Bruiser Boswell, a bunch of kids gathered around the monkey bars.
“Hey, you little runt,” Bruiser jeered as he swaggered up, “I’m going to stretch your arms five feet today. And if I don’t beat you at chicken wrestling, I’m going to beat you up anyway.”
“Listen, Bruiser,” said Tommy, “I know you’re the toughest kid in class, but these skinny arms and hands can hang on awfully tight to monkey bars.”
“Well, let’s just see how tight they can hang on,” said Bruiser. He began to climb up one side of the monkey bars, and Tommy started up the other.
When Tommy and Bruiser met in the middle of the bars, their legs were already flying and pulling and tugging. All the other kids were yelling and cheering them on. For a long time neither one could gain an advantage. Then Bruiser jerked Tommy’s leg really hard and Tommy’s right hand lost its grip. Tommy quickly regained his hold, then he twisted his legs tightly around Bruiser’s waist and pulled. As Bruiser gasped in surprise, his hands slipped from the bars.
“Wow! What a match!” someone said as Bruiser fell to the ground. “That’s got to be the longest match ever!”
Tommy, who was still hanging on to the monkey bars, looked at Bruiser lying on the ground. He thought it best not to let go for a while.
“That was the best chicken fight ever,” said Tommy.
Bruiser glared up at Tommy. “For you, maybe,” he said.
“You’re not mad at me, are you, Bruiser?” asked Tommy.
“I haven’t decided,” grunted Bruiser.
“Come on, Bruiser. You’ve got to have skinny little arms like mine to win at chicken wrestling. I can’t imagine the toughest guy in the class having skinny little arms instead of big strong ones like yours.”
“Nobody had better call my arms skinny!” threatened Bruiser as he looked at Tommy’s arms and then at his own.
“Well, they would have wondered if you’d won, ’cause everyone knows you have to have skinny arms to win at chicken wrestling.”
Tommy let go of the monkey bars and dropped down beside Bruiser. “I’d like to shake hands with the toughest kid in class, if it’s all right with you.”
“Sure, kid. Why not? I wouldn’t mind being friends with the best chicken wrestler in the class, even if you are sort of scrawny.”
When Tommy got home, his mother met him at the door. “How did it go with Bruiser Boswell today?” she asked.
“Oh, great!” he answered. “I may not be good at some things, but I am good at two things: One is chicken wrestling on the monkey bars, and the other is talking big guys out of fighting.”

Years ago I presided in a Church disciplinary council. The man whose sins were the subject of the council sat before us and related something of his history. His sins were indeed serious, but he had also been terribly sinned against. As we considered the matter, my soul was troubled, and I asked to be excused to think and pray about it alone before rejoining the council.

I was standing in front of a chair in my office pleading with the Lord to help me understand how such evil could have been perpetrated. I did not see but rather sensed an immense pit with a covering over it. One corner of the covering was lifted slightly for just an instant, and I perceived within it the depth and vastness of the evil that exists in this world. It was greater than I could really comprehend. I was overcome. I collapsed into the chair behind me. It seemed to take my breath away. I cried silently, “How can we ever hope to overcome such evil? How can we survive something so dark and overwhelming?”

In that moment there came to my mind this phrase: “Be of good cheer; I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). Seldom have I felt such peace juxtaposed to the reality of evil. I felt a deeper appreciation for the intensity of the Savior’s suffering, having a better, even frightening appreciation for the depth of what He had to overcome. I felt peace for the man who was before us for judgment, knowing he had a Redeemer whose grace was sufficient to cleanse him and also repair the injustices he had suffered. I knew better that good will triumph because of Jesus Christ, whereas without Him we would have no chance. I felt peace, and it was very sweet.

Annette Aagard was in the middle of a bad week. She felt overwhelmed. She did not need one more thing to do. Then why was she rushing off to become—of all things—a volunteer?
A couple of months earlier it had seemed like a good idea. She had signed up to donate a few hours each week to Great Oaks Village, a residential school for abused children in Orlando, Florida. She had been through orientation to assist girls between the ages of six and twelve. And now she faced her first assignment—all alone.
As soon as she walked into the dorm at Great Oaks, she heard someone say, “Hey, the new volunteer’s here!” Several anxious, wide-eyed little girls ran up to her and asked, “Are you our new volunteer?” And someone said, “Better be good or she won’t talk to you!”
By the end of that first evening in March of 1989, Annette knew why she had rushed off to become a volunteer. She learned that the word volunteer is like magic to these youngsters. It means that for a little while, someone has come to be family; someone has come to give love.
Annette loves to be a “big sister” to the little girls. She loves to walk and talk with them. “I not only learn from the things they say, but from the quick and easy way they trust, accept, and believe,” she says.
She tells about one particular evening. It was very quiet—most of the girls were restricted to their dorm rooms. So she took one little girl, Stosha, outside. It had just rained and the air was clean and quiet. They rode bikes for a little while and later went to the playground.
Annette explains, “Stosha is small and energetic and talkative. She loves the monkey bars. She would go across the bars and then expect me to follow her, which I had a hard time doing! I asked Stosha if she was going to try and skip every other bar the next time. She said, ‘Nope, I’m not going to try, I’m going to do it!’ This incident reminded me of President Spencer W. Kimball’s motto, ‘Do it!’ Sometimes we find excuses and whine and say ‘if … , but … , maybe … ,’ when we just need to believe in ourselves and do it.”

Weak from kidney surgery, and abandoned by those dearest to me, I was totally discouraged. Life had become intolerable—hopeless. I was sick, paralyzed from the neck down, and broken in spirit. There was nothing nor anyone left to turn to. Or so it seemed.
Inactive for ten years, I had no formal connection with the Church except for a soft-spoken, unpretentious home teacher, Brad K. Robison. I had known Brad for about two years and had grown to regard him as kind and thoughtful. But it wasn’t until he walked into my hospital room at this, my life’s lowest ebb, that I realized what he represented and that the hope and promise he brought with him could make my life meaningful.
The first time I spoke with Brad, two years earlier, had been on the phone. A close friend had requested that someone from the Church look in on me, so Brad was assigned to be my home teacher. Knowing nothing about me, Brad asked, “Why haven’t I seen you at Church?”
Cynically, I answered, “My legs just can’t seem to get me there on Sunday.”
“Oh,” he replied. “Some Sundays I have the same problem.” Chuckling, he then asked me if he could visit me. I agreed, without telling him that I was unable to move my arms or legs.
When he walked into my home and realized my condition, Brad turned to me sorrowfully, paused, and then burst into laughter. I couldn’t help but laugh with him. We began talking and found we had quite a lot in common, including the desire to practice medicine—a goal I had been prevented from achieving by my auto accident and the resulting paralysis.
After a pleasant visit, Brad asked if he might come back another day. Thinking I would never see him again, I answered, “Sure.”
To my amazement, month after month, Brad returned. Even when my only words were “Go away!” he never let my moodiness or bitterness put him off. Always he would return, just to talk and ask if there was anything he could do. Not once, in all his early home teaching visits, did we talk about the Church, God, or anything religious. Patient, insightful, or just polite—I’m not sure which—Brad seemed to sense that my pain and suffering wouldn’t allow me, at that time, to accept the idea of a loving God. Brad became a friend when friends were scarce.
In time our friendship grew. The longer I knew him, the more his behavior reminded me of someone in my past—his quiet, inner peace; his sense of who he was and where he was going; his honesty and humility. But who it was, I couldn’t remember.
So it went until Brad, my diligent home teacher-turned-friend, cautiously walked into my hospital room that day. Once again, as when I had decided to join the Church, the truthfulness of the gospel and its witness washed over my being and became undeniable. Peace filled my heart. My self-pity and bitterness left me, and the sense of abandonment faded. I knew things were going to be all right. Suddenly, what before had seemed strangely familiar about Brad now no longer puzzled me. He was the reflection of myself when I was active in the Church and armed with the priesthood, the Holy Ghost, and a knowledge of the truthfulness of the gospel of Jesus Christ. Renewed with hope, I asked if the bishop would visit me.
Bishop C. Lynn Mahoney came and further convinced me that there were still good people—people who cared about others. Graciously, he helped solve my immediate temporal problems and warmly invited me to become active in the ward. He has since supported my efforts to be active by escorting me through the temple to receive my endowment and by asking several of the brethren to assist me to priesthood and sacrament meetings.
Is home teaching really important? I know it is. Because of a dedicated, persistent home teacher and his visit at a time when life seemed hopeless and no longer worth living, I’m once again active in the Church and have a second chance to live life according to Christ’s teachings. My home teacher helped me to see that the gospel offered hope—not only for salvation, but also for happiness in the here and now.

My father had an idea that his boys ought to learn to work, and so he bought a five-acre farm which eventually grew to include more than 30 acres. We lived there in the summer and returned to the city when school started.
We had a large orchard, and the trees had to be pruned each spring. We learned a great truth—that you could pretty well determine the kind of fruit you would pick in September by the way you pruned in February. Further, we learned that new, young wood produces the best fruit. That has many applications in life.

In early 2011, New Mexico—usually a mild desert state—felt record low temperatures. The freezing caused pipes all over the state to burst, including some in the stake center where the Scouts of Troop 211 meet. Within hours volunteers, including many of these Scouts, were at the building to help clean up.
But serving together is nothing new for the boys of the troop. Just days after helping clear out the building, parents and Scouts gathered to hold a court of honor for the 10 boys from the ward who would be receiving Eagle awards. These young men had performed a host of service projects in their community, including organizing a blood drive; cleaning up a baseball field; working on the landscaping, classrooms, and libraries of local schools; and assisting with research for eye diseases in Peru. In recognition of the boys’ collective service, the city’s mayor attended their court of honor and pronounced February 9, 2011, as “Troop 211 Eagle Scouts Day.”

Two other powerful ideas were given voice by a noble young woman who survived a terrible experience. Virginia Reed was a survivor of the tragic Donner-Reed party, which made one of the earliest wagon treks into California. If this wagon train had followed the established Oregon Trail from Fort Bridger (Wyoming) northwest to Fort Hall (Idaho) and then southwest toward California, they would have reached their destination in safety. Instead, they were misled by a promoter. Lansford W. Hastings persuaded them they could save significant distance and time by following his so-called Hastings Cutoff. The Donner-Reed party left the proven trail at Fort Bridger and struggled southwest. They blazed a trail through the rugged Wasatch Mountains and then south of the Great Salt Lake and westward over the soggy surface of the salt flats in furnace heat.
The delays and incredible energies expended on this unproven route cost the Donner-Reed party an extra month in reaching the Sierra Nevada Mountains. As they hastened up the eastern slope trying to beat the first snows, they were caught in a tragic winter storm only one day short of the summit and a downhill passage into California. Marooned for the winter, half their group perished from starvation and cold.
After months in the mountains and incredible hardships of hunger and terror, thirteen-year-old Virginia Reed reached California and sent a letter to her cousin in the Midwest. After recounting her experiences and the terrible sufferings of their party, she concluded with this wise advice: “Never take no cutofs and hury along as fast as you can” (Virginia E. B. Reed letter to her cousin Mary Gillespie, 16 May 1847, quoted in J. Roderic Korns and Dale L. Morgan, eds., West from Fort Bridger [Logan, Utah: Utah State University Press, 1994], p. 238).

Let me tell you about a little girl who is well on her way. Eight-year-old Lindsay had studied well for her math test at school. She said: “When the test began, my friend leaned over and asked if I would help her with the answers. I thought of the family home evenings we have at the first of every school year. Dad reminds us that we should always do our own work. He says it’s better to be honest than to cheat for a higher grade. I knew if I helped my friend cheat, I would be cheating too. So I shook my head, no. The next day, the teacher called my friend and me out into the hall and said our answers were the same. It was easy for me to look at the teacher and tell her I didn’t cheat. When I looked at my friend, she was crying. She told the teacher she had looked on my paper. I was really sorry for my friend, but I was very glad I had been honest.”

A recent letter from my amazing grandson serving in Oaxaca, Mexico, included this experience. From Elder Hunter Paul Clark:

"We had our last lesson with Jocabed and Enrique before they get baptized tomorrow. Jocabed was talking to us and said, 'I don’t think I have received my answer yet if the Church is—' then paused. After a few moments, she said, 'Nope, I have my answer: because I have seen the difference this has made in my family.' We didn’t have to say anything and the Spirit testified to her in the moment. I know that the Spirit is the teacher here and can testify to everyone that is willing to listen. I am so excited for them!
"The gospel has always been and was restored to bless families. The anti-Christ Korihor taught the people that there would be no Christ, and the women and the men began to commit whoredoms. Anti-Christ is anti-family, and anti-family is anti-Christ.
"I think of the great anguish and hopelessness we felt that day at Lake Powell. We would have done anything to bring Londyn back! I plead with you to build your foundation on Christ and His gospel by doing His teachings, that your houses do not fall and your children not perish.
"Tom Perry taught in one of our devotionals that the Church is the scaffolding that exists to perfect the individual and exalt eternal families."

When I eat lunch in the school cafeteria, some kids talk about things that I know I shouldn’t listen to. I ask them to not talk about those things. Sometimes they stop, but sometimes they don’t. If they don’t, I move to another place so I don’t have to hear bad things. A couple of times I’ve had to eat alone.
Sometimes standing up for the right means that you aren’t liked as much, but I think it helps other people to want to choose the right too. It also means that you will attract good friends. I am glad that we have a prophet who asks us to be clean.

Let me give you an example from my own life. I have been blessed to have such dear friend-mentor relationships in my life with Elder Jon M. Huntsman—Area Seventy, philanthropist, benefactor, founder of the Huntsman group of companies, and my friend.

I first met Jon Huntsman in 1975, when I was 24 years old. I was an elders quorum president for a University of Utah married-student ward, and Jon Huntsman was my high council adviser. We became friends, and in my senior year, as I was preparing to conclude my education at the university, Brother Huntsman recruited me as a sales representative in his plastics company.

One of my very first assigned accounts was Avon, the cosmetic giant headquartered in New York City. To get me started with that important client, Brother Huntsman personally accompanied me to New York City for my initial introduction. Excited to be entering into a new career and anxious to make a good impression, I wore my best brown college suit with a brown tie and brown loafers. When we met at the airport, I noticed that Mr. Huntsman gave me a peculiar look. But he didn’t say anything!

When we arrived in New York City, he told me there was a stop we needed to make before calling upon Avon. We went directly to a famous men’s clothing store known as Brooks Brothers on swanky Madison Avenue. On the way, I recall him saying to me, “Now, Ron, if you are going to be a salesman in my company, and if you are going to represent me to Avon, you are going to learn how to dress, how to act, and how to serve in this new role.” And then he added, “You don’t wear brown suits in a business environment in New York City!” Not representing Jon Huntsman at least!

Jon knew the people at Brooks Brothers, and he watched as they fitted me with a beautiful, dark gray, pin-striped suit—the nicest I had ever seen and certainly the nicest I had ever owned. After it was taken away to be tailored for a perfect fit, we picked out a shirt, some ties, a belt, and all the accessories. Next we went to the shoe department, where Jon introduced me to my very first pair of black wingtip dress shoes.

I guess Brother Huntsman’s account at Brooks Brothers gave him special privileges because after we had had lunch, we returned to the store, where my new business wardrobe was ready, courtesy of Jon M. Huntsman.

I remember my gratitude to Jon for sparing me the needless embarrassment of showing up in my college clothes. As I stuffed—and that’s exactly what I did—my brown outfit into a bag, I realized he had made sure I was properly dressed! Then it was off to Avon, where he introduced me as their new account representative from his company. Jon was teaching me much more than the importance of looking the part. He was introducing me into a whole new way of thinking, of doing things, of representing myself to others. He was mentoring me. This was the first of many such valuable lessons I learned from him.

Years later, while serving as an executive in Brother Huntsman’s company, I was very involved in my duties, which took me around the globe. Returning from one of these business trips, Brother Huntsman, a stake president at this time, asked me what I was doing in the Church. I told him I was happily teaching a gospel doctrine class in Sunday School. He asked me what kinds of experiences I had had in Church leadership. I told him I had enjoyed serving in several presidencies, but most of my Church service, very happily, had been in teaching.

After I explained this to Brother Huntsman, he told me of a similar time in his life when he had been called to serve in a student stake, first as a high councilor and later as a bishop. He found it ideal for his busy schedule. In fact, as I mentioned earlier in this message, that was where I first met Jon Huntsman.

He said he knew a brother at the University of Utah who was serving as the stake president of one of the university married stakes who could fill Church-service positions with brethren from across the Salt Lake Valley. Brother Huntsman asked if he might phone this stake president and let him know of my name. I agreed and really did not think of it again, knowing how busy he was.

Sometime later I received a call from Robert Fotheringham, the president of what was then the University of Utah First Stake. He asked if he and his counselors might come to our home and visit with Sister Rasband and me. Not many days later all three of the stake presidency were sitting on the couch in our living room, inquiring about our situation and feeling our testimonies. After a searching interview with each of us, the three men looked at each other knowingly, and the stake president then extended a call to me to serve as a member of the University of Utah First Stake high council. They said they had already talked to my resident stake president and that he felt fine about the call—if they should want to move forward.

I accepted that call and began my service in the University of Utah First Stake. As a part of my assignment, Sister Rasband and our young family enjoyed a wonderful opportunity to develop choice Christ-centered relationships with the young married students. After serving for a period of time on the high council, I was called as the bishop of the 10th Ward in that stake.

I later found out that Brother Huntsman did call President Fotheringham and simply suggested that he knew someone who might do well in a university campus setting. Hence, my dear friend and mentor Jon Huntsman, merely by mentioning my name for a possible interview, provided another kind of experience for me in Church service.

I think of the wonderful young people I met in that university ward setting and the opportunity I had to assist several of them in finding employment themselves, one who is here with us tonight. Most importantly, I had the privilege of bearing witness of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ and establishing righteous friendships in a way similar to what Brother Huntsman did for me.

I knew that coming back to the realities of life after a mission might be hard, so I wanted to do everything I could to stay on the covenant path.
So when my stake announced that the Buenos Aires Argentina Temple was looking for more ordinance workers, I volunteered. I had been praying for some direction in my life, and I also believed President Russell M. Nelson’s promise that “the Lord will bring the miracles He knows you need as you make sacrifices to serve and worship in His temples.”
I couldn’t think of a better way to keep an ongoing appointment with the temple than to be an ordinance worker!
My life was so busy when I started working in the temple. I had university classes, and my temple shift was quite a few hours each week. It was a sacrifice—but a wonderful one.
Over time, I noticed that when I paid attention to the words of the covenants that the temple patrons were making, my own covenants started becoming more meaningful to me.
For one, I have always believed the truth that families can be eternal through the temple sealing. And helping patrons do work for their ancestors and seeing their deep love for their families inspired me to do my own family history work. I was able to do ordinances for my aunt and my grandmother who had passed away, and this made the blessings of those covenants become so precious to me.
Another time, while I was helping in the baptistry, I was observing all the beautiful faces of the patrons. While I helped them, I felt the Spirit as I thought about the Savior’s baptism. Seeing my brothers and sisters in the temple deepened my testimony of the privilege of making covenants with God.
I have served as an ordinance worker for five years now, and I have had so many simple but profound spiritual experiences like these. They remind me of how powerful our covenants with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ are!
When I think about the blessings of covenants, I think of the people of Alma in Mosiah 24.
Despite facing so much hardship, Alma’s people remained faithful to Heavenly Father. They “pour[ed] out their hearts to him; and he did know the thoughts of their hearts” (verse 12). And in response, the Lord reminded them to “lift up your heads and be of good comfort, for I know of the covenant which ye have made unto me; and I will covenant with my people and deliver them out of bondage” (verse 13).
He also promised that He would strengthen them and make their burdens light (see verses 14–15).
And as the people of Alma kept their covenants, their faithfulness and trust in Heavenly Father’s timing freed them from bondage, and they “pour[ed] out their thanks to God” (verse 21).
I feel like this is what we can experience every day as God’s covenant people. The temple reminds me that when I find myself in “bondage,” either from challenges in or outside of my control, my covenants bind me to Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.
Because of this covenant relationship, I have access to Their healing and enabling power.
I’ve always been grateful for my temple covenants. But being an ordinance worker has helped me see them as the life-changing gifts they are.
President Nelson also reminded us that “the reward for keeping covenants with God is heavenly power—power that strengthens us to withstand our trials, temptations, and heartaches better. This power eases our way. Those who live the higher laws of Jesus Christ have access to His higher power. Thus, covenant keepers are entitled to a special kind of rest that comes to them through their covenantal relationship with God.”
You don’t have to be an ordinance worker to see the power of your covenants in your life. If you simply visit the temple as often as your circumstances allow you to, with a desire to learn more, I know you will see the blessings President Nelson promises.
Regardless of how close you are to a temple, pondering the deep, beautiful blessings of covenants and how they connect you to Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ can help you stay joyful and faithful on the covenant path.
This has been true for me.

Four days after his 16th birthday, Erastus was ordained a priest by his brother William and told to teach and baptize. He linked up with his young relative James Snow, also age 16, for a ten-day preaching mission into the Vermont countryside. Starting on November 22, 1834, they journeyed to Danville, where they “held a meeting with the brethren.” The two priests held two meetings at Sheffield, and then spoke to “a large attentive audience.” At Glover, they visited Albany, Irasburg, Troy, and Jay, “preaching and calling upon people to repent.” At Jay, they met with local Saints on the Sabbath and “administered the Lord’s supper and in the evening we held a public meeting.” The young priests visited Troy, Newport, Salem, Charleston, Newark, Burk, and Sundon.

After the trip, James Snow said, “we did exceedingly rejoice.” He and Erastus “could truly say that the Lord was merciful unto us in very deed in that he did fill our mouths with words that our enemies could neither gainsay nor resist, and prejudice gave way.”

I received a letter from one who counts herself fortunate, and indeed fortunate she is. She writes:
“Although I have been raising our four boys as a single parent, … I am not alone. I have a wonderful ‘ward family’ that has rallied around us. …
“My Relief Society president has been there for me through my greatest hardships, encouraging my spiritual growth, personal prayer, and temple attendance.
“Our bishop has been generous in providing needed food and clothing and has helped send two of the boys to camp. He has had interviews with all of us and given each of us blessings and needed encouragement. He has helped me to budget and do what I can to help my family.
“Our home teachers have come regularly and even gave the boys blessings as they started the new school year.
“Our stake president and his counselors have checked in on us on a regular basis by taking time to visit with us at church, on the phone, or visiting our home.
“This Church is true, and my boys and I are living proof that God loves us and that a ‘ward family’ can make all the difference.
“Our priesthood leaders have been instrumental in keeping the boys active in church and in the Scouting program. [One] is an Eagle Scout and is receiving his fourth palm this week. [Another] is an Eagle with three palms. And [a third] has just turned in his Eagle papers this week. The youngest is a Webelos and loves Cub Scouts.
“We are always met with loving hearts and warm handshakes. The Christlike attitude of the stake and our ward has helped us through trials we never imagined possible.
“Life has been hard, … but we put on the whole armor of God as we kneel in family prayer … , asking for help and guidance and sharing thanks for the blessings we have received. I pray daily for the constant companionship of the Holy Ghost to guide me as I raise these boys to be missionaries and encourage them to be true to the gospel and the priesthood they hold.
“I am proud to say I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I know this Church is true. I sustain my Church leaders. We are doing well, and I thank everyone for their love, and prayers, and acceptance.”
What a great letter that is! How much it says about the way this Church functions and should function throughout the world. I hope that every woman who finds herself in the kind of circumstances in which this woman lives is similarly blessed with an understanding and helpful bishop, with a Relief Society president who knows how to assist her, with home teachers who know where their duty lies and how to fulfill it, and with a host of ward members who are helpful without being intrusive.
I have never met the woman whose letter I have read. Notwithstanding the cheerful attitude she conveys, I am sure there has been much of struggle and loneliness and, at times, fear. I notice that she works to provide for her needs and the needs of her boys, who are in their teens. I assume her income is inadequate, because she indicates that the bishop has helped them with food and clothing.
Some years ago President Benson delivered a message to the women of the Church. He encouraged them to leave their employment and give their individual time to their children. I sustain the position which he took.
Nevertheless, I recognize, as he recognized, that there are some women (it has become very many, in fact) who have to work to provide for the needs of their families. To you I say, do the very best you can. I hope that if you are employed full-time you are doing it to ensure that basic needs are met and not simply to indulge a taste for an elaborate home, fancy cars, and other luxuries. The greatest job that any mother will ever do will be in nurturing, teaching, lifting, encouraging, and rearing her children in righteousness and truth. None other can adequately take her place.
It is well-nigh impossible to be a full-time homemaker and a full-time employee. I know how some of you struggle with decisions concerning this matter. I repeat, do the very best you can. You know your circumstances, and I know that you are deeply concerned for the welfare of your children. Each of you has a bishop who will counsel with you and assist you. If you feel you need to speak with an understanding woman, do not hesitate to get in touch with your Relief Society president.
To the mothers of this Church, every mother who is here today, I want to say that as the years pass, you will become increasingly grateful for that which you did in molding the lives of your children in the direction of righteousness and goodness, integrity and faith. That is most likely to happen if you can spend adequate time with them.
For you who are single parents, I say that many hands stand ready to help you. The Lord is not unmindful of you. Neither is His Church.
May He bless you, my beloved sisters who find yourselves in the situation of single parenthood. May you have health, strength, vitality to carry the heavy burden that is yours. May you have loving friends and associates to bear you up in your times of trial. You know the power of prayer as perhaps few others do. Many of you spend much time on your knees speaking with your Father in Heaven, with tears running down your cheeks. Please know that we also pray for you.
With all that you have to do, you are also asked to serve in the Church. Your bishop will not ask you to do anything that is beyond your capacity. And as you so serve, a new dimension will be added to your life. You will find new and stimulating associations. You will find friendship and sociality. You will grow in knowledge and understanding and wisdom and in your capacity to do. You will become a better mother because of the service you give in the work of the Lord.

More than forty years ago I was a missionary in the British Isles. That was the time of the British Empire when it could truthfully be said that the sun never set on British soil, and when the British flag waved over a fourth of the world. In those days the peace of the world was peace in the British Empire. Now the British Empire is gone; its parts are independent nations, and the British Empire, symbolized by the lion that roared so loudly, is old and sick and weak.
It is easy for me to believe that the nations shall tremble when the Son of God comes again to claim his kingdom, for when that day arrives, “The Son of man shall come in his glory, and all the holy angels with him, then shall He sit upon the throne of glory:
“And before him shall be gathered all nations: and he shall separate them one from another, as a shepherd divideth his sheep from the goats. (Matt. 25: 31–32.) There will be a judgment not only of the nations but also of the people. “Behold,” said the Lord, “now it is called today until the coming of the Son of man, and verily it is a day of sacrifice, and a day for the tithing of my people; for he that is tithed shall not be burned at his coming.
“For after today cometh the burning … all the proud and they that do wickedly shall be as stubble; and I will burn them up, for I am the Lord of Hosts; and I will not spare any that remain in Babylon.” (D&C 64:23–24). Some years ago one of our brethren spoke of the payment of tithing as “fire insurance”; that statement evoked laughter. Nonetheless, the word of the Lord is clear that those who do not keep the commandments and obey the laws of God shall be burned at the time of his coming. For that shall be a day of judgment and a day of sifting, a day of separating the good from the evil. In my personal opinion no event has occurred in all the history of the earth as dreadful as will be the day of the Second Coming—no event as filled with the destructive forces of nature, as consequential for the nations of the earth, as terrible for the wicked, or as wonderful for the righteous.
It will be a time of great and terrible fears, of cataclysmic upheavals of nature, of weeping and wailing (D&C 19:5), of repentance that comes too late, and of crying out unto the Lord for mercy. But for those who in that judgment are found acceptable, it will be a day for thanksgiving, for the Lord shall come with his angels, and the apostles who were with him in Jerusalem, and those who have been resurrected. Further, the graves of the righteous will be opened and they shall come forth. (See D&C 88:97.) Then will begin the great millennium (D&C 43:30) period of a thousand years when Satan shall be bound and the Lord shall reign over his people. Can you imagine the wonder and the beauty of that era when the adversary shall not have influence? Think of his influence upon you now and reflect on the peace of that time when you will be free from such influence. There will be quiet and goodness where now there is contention and evil.
I know that you are familiar with all of this and with much more of that which is found in the scriptures, but I have felt impressed to repeat it as a reminder to each of us of the faith and the certainty that we have of these coming events. To know when these events will occur would take from us much of the self-discipline needed to daily obey the principles of the gospel.
Most of us seldom think of these millennial events, and perhaps it is well we do not. Certainly there is no point in speculating concerning the day and the hour in which they will occur. Let us instead live each day so that if the Lord does come while we are yet upon the earth we shall be worthy of that change which will occur as in the twinkling of an eye and under which we shall be changed from mortal to immortal beings. And if we should die before he comes, then—if our lives have conformed to his teachings—we shall arise in that resurrection morning and be partakers of the marvelous experiences designed for those who shall live and work with the Savior in that promised Millennium. We need not fear the day of his coming; the purpose of the Church is to provide the incentive and the opportunity for us to conduct our lives in such a way that those who are members of the kingdom of God will become members of the kingdom of heaven when he establishes that kingdom on the earth. May I suggest just two or three things which, if followed, will assist.
The prophet Micah declared: “He hath showed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?” (Micah 6:8). There is enough for a long sermon in that one command. Let me talk about one point only: “To love mercy.” As an example, may I read a paragraph from a letter I received from a young woman who is engaged in this kind of activity as president of the Relief Society.
Yesterday [she writes] I spent most of the day picking up welfare groceries and delivering them. One of the two cases I called on was tragic. She is a woman who, years ago, was in a fire and her head was badly injured. For years she has undergone constructive surgery and has a number of pins holding her scalp together. She is divorced, and in order to support herself and her four-year-old girl, she works doing any small job she can find, until she is through surgery and can return to school to complete her training as a dietician. She has no car and relies solely on her bicycle for transportation in this great and busy city. She has ridden that bike all winter, with her little girl on the back, sometimes going as many as 48 kilometers in a day to get to and from a small job.
A week ago she slid on a patch of ice while riding her bicycle, fell, struck her head, and suffered a concussion. She refused to go to the hospital because she had no money to pay medical bills, so she remained in her apartment, suffering from pain until her sister found her and got medical help. Her mother was able to assist her just a little. Her home teacher happened to call and discovered her plight. When I, as the Relief Society president, called her, I discovered she had no food in the house, no medication for her diabetes, and no money. So yesterday I went to deliver the groceries and take her some medication. What an opportunity to serve someone so desperately in need!
Love mercy; obey the commandment of the Lord by imparting your substance for the work of this kingdom. Now let me share with you a testimony spoken by a man once poor in his childhood and now prosperous in his old age. He stood before the congregation and said,
“When I was a boy, on a summer’s day I would lie out in the alfalfa patch and chew on twigs and look up at the sky and wonder where the windows of heaven were that my parents had spoken of. I couldn’t see them in the clouds, and I thought they must be somewhere in the blue sky. I wondered how the windows could be opened so I could get a Boy Scout uniform and a pony and a bicycle. I never got these things, but I have come to see how the windows of heaven are opened as I have received the kindness of good and generous neighbors and friends in this ward in which we live.”
Finally, pertaining to this general subject, let me read a few more words of revelation: a few words of commandment, and a few more words of promise. The commandment: “Let virtue garnish thy thoughts unceasingly.” The promise: “Then shall thy confidence wax strong in the presence of God.” (D&C 121:45.) I have thought of that statement a great deal. It has been my privilege to meet a number of presidents of the United States and leaders, rulers, and governors in other lands, and it is a reassuring feeling to be able to stand in the presence of such men with confidence. As I have thought of that, I have also thought how marvelous it will be if someday I might stand with confidence in the presence of God.
“The Holy Ghost shall be thy constant companion,” the Lord continues in this statement, “and thy scepter an unchanging scepter of righteousness and truth; and thy dominion shall be an everlasting dominion, and without compulsory means it shall flow unto thee forever and ever”—including, I should like to add, that time when the Lord comes at the great day of sifting and separation of the righteous from the wicked. My brothers and sisters, of these things I testify, relying on the revealed word of the Lord; and I humbly pray with sincere desire that each of us may so live our lives here and now that we may have neither fear nor worry concerning that great and dreadful day of his coming. God bless us in our search for truth and peace and strength, I humbly pray in the name of Him who shall surely come at a time we know not, but whose coming shall be as certain as the coming of the sun in the morning—in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

Illustration by Brad Teare
“Oh no! Here comes Pedro!”
Everyone at school knew that Pedro was a bully. He was big, and he was mean! He called other kids names, took their lunches, and chased them around the school yard. No one wanted to be around him.
Pedro walked by Lucas and his friend Arthur. He called them “losers” and pushed Arthur.
Lucas was tired of Pedro being so mean. Without even thinking, he shouted, “Stop it, Pedro!”
Lucas couldn’t believe it. He’d just stood up to the biggest bully in school!
Pedro stormed up to Lucas and grabbed his shirt. “What did you say?” Lucas’s heart beat so fast it felt like it would jump out of his chest! “I’ll give you one warning,” Pedro said. “But you’d better watch out!” He shoved Lucas and walked away.
After that, Lucas did his best to avoid Pedro, but Pedro always found him. He kept Lucas off the swings, pushed him during dodgeball, tripped him in the cafeteria, and always said mean things.
One day Lucas and Arthur were playing with Arthur’s soccer ball. Pedro jumped out from behind a tree and grabbed it.
“Please give it back,” said Arthur.
“Who’s going to make me?” Pedro pushed Lucas and laughed.
Lucas could feel his stomach twist in knots. He was so angry! “You know what, Pedro?” Lucas said. “You’re the meanest kid I know! Nobody likes you. Everyone wishes you’d go away!”
Pedro stopped laughing. Lucas felt great about what he said … until he saw the look on Pedro’s face. Was he about to cry? Pedro quickly looked down and walked away.
Lucas instantly felt terrible. For the rest of the day, no matter how hard he tried, Lucas couldn’t get rid of the terrible feeling. That night, he tossed and turned in bed. He kept thinking about how sad Pedro had looked.
How could Pedro feel bad? Lucas thought. He doesn’t care if he’s mean to other kids. I had to say something, right? The more Lucas thought about it, the more he realized he was right to stand up for himself and his friend. But he was wrong to say those mean things.
Lucas knelt by his bed and asked Heavenly Father to forgive him. He told Heavenly Father that he never wanted to hurt anyone like that ever again. He wanted to be kind. When Lucas said “amen,” he knew what he had to do.
After lunch the next day, Lucas found Pedro standing against a wall by himself. Lucas was nervous. What would Pedro do? Lucas took a deep breath and walked over.
“Um, I’m sorry about yesterday.”
Pedro looked surprised. “You’re sorry?”
“Yes. I said some really mean things to you, and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”
Pedro stared down at his shoes. “It’s OK.”
The bell rang. Lucas started walking back to class. He felt so much better. But there was one more thing he wanted to say. He turned back around. “We could play soccer at recess tomorrow if you want.”
A small smile crossed Pedro’s face. “That sounds good.”
After that, things got better with Pedro. He was still a bully sometimes, but he wasn’t as mean. He even played with Lucas a few times at recess. And it was actually fun! At the end of the school year, Pedro told Lucas that he was moving away. Then he said something that really surprised Lucas.
“Thanks for being my friend,” Pedro said. “Even when I wasn’t nice.”
The warm feeling in Lucas’s heart let him know that being kind is always the right choice.

As a young woman, she was impressed with the importance of finding a worthy young man to marry and made it a matter of daily prayer and weekly fasting. After high school she attended Brigham Young University on a dance scholarship and met Mark Durham, who was attending the University of Utah. “I immediately recognized his goodness,” she said.
The couple married in June 1974 in the Salt Lake Temple. They have seven children.

Once when I was six years old, my sister, Jessica, and I were at the department store at the mall with my mom. We were looking at things, and we didn’t know our mom was leaving. I went to another section close to where my sister was. Then I noticed that my mom and Jessica were gone. I said a prayer, and I felt like I should find Jessica first. I found her, and then we found my mom in the shopping line. I am glad I listened to the Spirit.
Natasha Jones, age 8Copley, Ohio