Gospel Story Finder

Allow me to share a personal experience that may help illustrate the power and purpose of artistic experience centered in Christ. Many years ago, unable to sleep because of pressing problems, I sought the boredom of late-night television as a substitute for “counting sheep.” Alone in the family room, I tuned to an educational channel just as a rather curious dance production was beginning. It was the story of the prodigal son retold through the music and choreography of Israeli collaborators and performed by an Israeli dance company. I expected this to be the perfect way to fall asleep. How wrong I was!

As the familiar story unfolded through movement and music, the simplicity and power of the production increasingly moved me. Every expression and movement had meaning. The camera’s ever-changing focus absolutely held me spellbound. The music touched my heart and filled it with wonder. The movements of the dancers, now transformed into actors, opened the eyes of my understanding. I observed that the Holy Ghost had an overpowering presence in my being. As the story reached the point of the son’s return to his father, the son crawled to his father’s feet, writhing in the agony of true repentance. At just the right moment, his father lovingly lifted him into his arms and held him in an attitude of total forgiveness. In an instant I felt and understood the reality of the Atonement with such intensity that I wept in both joy and sorrow. It was a powerful and precious experience in my life, an experience made possible through artists who had responded to the Light of Christ in this collaborative creative endeavor.

Until I was in my thirties, I thought the Atonement was basically for sinners—meaning that it allowed us to repent. But then I suffered a heartbreaking personal loss and began to learn that there was so much more to this sublime doctrine.

My solution initially to my heartbreak was to exercise so much faith that the Lord would have to give me what I wanted—which was a husband. Believe me, if fasting and prayer and temple attendance automatically resulted in a husband, I’d have one.

Well, the Lord hasn’t even yet given me a husband; but He did heal my heart. And in doing so, He taught me that He not only paid the price for sin but compensated for all of the pain we experience in life. He taught me that because of His Atonement, we have access to His grace, or enabling power—power that frees us from sin; power to be healed emotionally, physically, and spiritually; power to “loose the bands of death” (Alma 7:12); power to turn weakness into strength (see Ether 12:27); and power to receive salvation through faith on His name (see Mosiah 3:19). It is because of the Atonement that, if we build our foundation on Christ, the devil can have no power over us (see Helaman 5:12).

When it came time to plan youth conference, leaders of a stake in northern Utah, USA, asked the youth what they thought would make it memorable.
After some discussion, their answer was simple: “We want to serve!” They decided they wanted to make a difference where they live. They wanted to help the hungry and the homeless, the lonely and the elderly. They also wanted to hold workshops in which professionals could help people struggling with serious issues like suicide and depression.
They adopted the theme, “You Love, You Serve.” And during the three-day youth conference, they did just that.
The youth served in a food bank and sorted canned food donations.
Photographs by Richard M. Romney
Along with sorting food, youth also built benches for a homeless shelter.
“Knowing that Jesus Christ served those around Him makes me feel like I’m emulating the Savior,” said Stephen J., 13. “Taking His name upon me, that’s what’s great about being able to serve others—we’re being like Jesus, and that’s who I want to be like the most.”
For another service project, the youth prepared hygiene kits for a homeless shelter for youth.
Some of the youth spent the afternoon cleaning up trash and weeding gardens in a community park.
“When I went to school in the school next door, this park was totally trashed. It’s been that way for a long time,” said Karlos S., 12. “And now we’re the ones who actually cleaned it up. I’ll always have that feeling that it was amazing to clean something up as we did the work of the Lord.”
“It would have been hard to weed this whole place all by yourself,” said Glenn B., 13. “But when we worked at it together, we got it all done in a couple of hours. Look what we did together. That’s pretty cool.”
The youth wanted to put on a talent show where seniors were the guests of honor.
In addition to the talent shows, youth also asked seniors what their wishes were. On the night of the talent show, several seniors had their wishes granted. One man simply wanted a pizza. Another wanted Mexican food.
On the last day of the youth conference, a Superhero 5-K run was held to raise money to help the homeless.
“Serving together got us into different types of groups, and that helped us to get to know new people,” said Rosemary A., 13. “And that’s part of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, to get to know other people. It’s nice to work side-by-side to help others, to give instead of just always receiving.”
Throughout their conference, the youth learned something marvelous about their theme. “You Love, You Serve” works like a cycle—your love for the Lord causes you to serve others as He would. Then as you serve, your love for Him and for others grows, and so does your desire to serve.

The lump in my throat continued to grow as I slowly walked to the front of the room. I was a senior in high school, and this was my last Young Women in Excellence presentation. As I faced the audience of young women, parents, and leaders, I realized that my years of theater and speech experience were not going to help that night.
What I was about to repeat was different from some script or prepared speech. This was when I had to demonstrate that I had completed the challenge that was more difficult than I could have ever imagined.
The challenge began about six months earlier on a Wednesday night as the young women in my ward sat in the gym at our building and focused on Personal Progress. The excitement I had about Personal Progress as a Beehive had faded, and as a 17-year-old Laurel, I had adopted the belief that I had better things to do. I just wasn’t interested in picking my last two value projects, but that didn’t stop my Young Women president, Sister Widener, from trying to motivate me to get them done.
As I flipped through the Personal Progress book just to make Sister Widener happy, I came to the suggested projects under Faith. I read the suggestion to memorize “The Living Christ” and explained to Sister Widener that I could easily do that. I had memorized plenty of lines to plays in my life, so memorizing “The Living Christ” would be easy. It would never take 10 whole hours. My dedicated Young Women president took this as an opportunity to challenge me. She told me that it might not be as easy as I thought it would be. I would do it, she would do it too, and we could make it into a challenge to see who could finish first.
I may have thought that Personal Progress was below my maturity level, but I was never too old for a good challenge. I agreed to the challenge and memorized the first paragraph by the end of Mutual that night.
Though I never forgot the challenge, I got distracted during the summer months and put memorizing at the bottom of my list. Sister Widener stayed focused and completed the challenge in a just a few months. Sister Widener promised me that if I would commit myself again to finishing the challenge, it would change my life. I didn’t really believe her, but I didn’t want to be viewed as a loser either. So I decided that reciting “The Living Christ” would be my final Young Women in Excellence presentation.
As I stood before the audience that night, I was confident that I knew the words well enough to recite them. It had taken many more hours than I had expected, and I was happy that I would finally be able to prove that I could do it. As I got to the third paragraph, I began to realize that this was not going to be as easy as I had expected. Tears filled my eyes as I repeated the words: “He was arrested and condemned on spurious charges, convicted to satisfy a mob, and sentenced to die on Calvary’s cross. He gave His life to atone for the sins of all mankind. His was a great vicarious gift in behalf of all who would ever live upon the earth.”
The tears began to fall, and though I knew the words, in front of the audience that night I stopped and couldn’t say a thing. Those words truly meant something to me. I wasn’t just reciting lines to complete a challenge—I was testifying of Jesus Christ. I was testifying of His life, love, and sacrifice for me and for everyone else in that room. And I knew it was true, because I could feel the Spirit stronger than I ever had before as I bore that testimony.
I looked at Sister Widener, who smiled as she wiped away her own tears. I finally understood what she meant when she told me that if I would just finish the challenge, my life would be changed. I took a deep breath and completed my presentation. The tears didn’t stop falling until I had finished speaking and was back in my seat.
The simple challenge extended to me by a loving Young Women president had changed my life. That night I gained a testimony of Personal Progress. I realized that the challenges presented to me as a young woman could provide me with experiences to learn and grow through the Spirit. I had felt the Spirit in a way that I had never experienced as I recited the testimony of Jesus Christ given to us by our prophet and Apostles. That testimony became my own. I had gained a real and true testimony of my Savior Jesus Christ. I better knew and loved Him, and I knew that He knows and loves me.
Sister Widener gave me a framed copy of “The Living Christ” that night. Six years later it still hangs on my wall and reminds me of the night that I came to better know my Savior and the love He has for me. And I still know, just as surely as I did when I repeated the words that night, that “He is the light, the life, and the hope of the world. His way is the path that leads to happiness in this life and eternal life in the world to come.”

If you’re not wild about the thought of graduating as the only member of the Church in your class, you can always do what Tammy Shick of the Ridgeway Branch, Pennsylvania Pittsburgh Mission did. She helped convert two of her classmates.

But her missionary work didn’t stop there. She also gave a class presentation on the Book of Mormon and presented a copy to her non-LDS teacher. Then there was her senior paper, written on Church history.

Tammy is currently at Utah State on scholarship, majoring in Aerospace Engineering.

In May 2010, over 1,200 youth from eight stakes in British Columbia and the Bellingham Washington Stake gathered in Vancouver for a temple celebration marking the completion of the Vancouver British Columbia Temple.
The celebration, titled “A Beacon to the World,” highlighted the land, history, and people of British Columbia. Part of the celebration included the youth’s guiding 172 of the area’s oldest Church members down to the floor for recognition. After dancing and performing music for the program, the youth closed the program by joining hands and circling around a replica of the temple.
Sabrina Blackmore, 17, of the Blackmore Ward in the Prince George British Columbia Stake, rode 15 hours on a bus to participate in the event. “This is the best experience ever,” she said.

I actually had a horse who helped me appreciate the amazing process of change. When our children were young, my wife and I looked for a gentle, well-broke children’s horse. Our neighbor had such a horse, but he would sell us kind and gentle Bob only if we also bought his other horse, Stubby. The names alone describe the horses. Eventually we decided to purchase both horses in order to acquire Bob.

Sure enough, Bob was wonderful, and Stubby ended up being, as expected, a stubborn, strong-willed, obnoxious animal who consistently acted up and caused trouble with the other horses. Because of our limited number of horses, I usually ended up riding Stubby during our family rides. He was defiant. When I tried to turn right, Stubby fought to go left. If I wanted to gallop, he would buck or crow-hop.

I decided to do all I could to help bring about a change in Stubby’s disposition. I gave him consequences for bad behavior and rewarded him for good behavior. I rode him side by side our well-behaved horses. I rode him frequently and groomed him often. Over time, after many rides—and somewhat to my surprise—Stubby began to soften. He submitted more readily to the saddle and bridle, and he was less determined to have his own way. He began allowing me to guide and control him without resistance. At times he even seemed to enjoy our time together.

As Stubby’s disposition improved, he surprisingly became my horse of choice. He was energetic and had good stamina. He was not at all hesitant or fearful in challenging situations, and in a group of other horses, he led out without needing to be urged on. Over a period of ten to fifteen years, Stubby developed into an exceptional lead horse. I was very grateful that I hadn’t given up on him during those earlier challenging years. In fact, Stubby made such a turnaround that we changed his name to Spinner.

When I walked to the pasture, Spinner was quick to come to me. He recognized me and seemed eager to please. He responded to the ­gentlest commands. I could ride him easily without a saddle or even a bit in his mouth. We spent many pleasurable hours together. He was very gentle and became a favorite horse of our grandchildren. He took care of our granddaughters, and he tolerated our grandsons. We would say, in horse lingo, that he was well broke. Spinner gave up his wild nature and aligned his will with his owner’s—or his master’s—will.

Spinner underwent a major change or transformation, but it took time, patience, and a lot of work. Through this process of change, Spinner’s life improved immensely, and so did mine! It broke my heart when he passed away this past spring. We buried him in a place of honor, marked with a hitching post and his halter.

I was called to serve as a missionary and assigned to the Brazil Florianópolis Mission. I spent seven months there and ended up returning home early. When I was going home, I said a prayer asking Heavenly Father to not release me as a missionary. After I prayed, I felt the Spirit telling me that everything would be OK.
During my first week home, I trusted in the way I felt after I prayed at the airport. I began helping in the temple store. When I got the chance to meet with my stake president, he was very happy to hear of my service and said he wouldn’t release me. I was then assigned to be a service missionary in my home mission, the Recife Northeast Mission.
My service mission includes various assignments. During the week I help in the temple shop, the temple office, and the laundry room. There is always something to do at the temple—the missionaries never sit still there.
On Saturdays I help with institute. I participated in the institute’s missionary preparation class to share what I learned on the mission—it felt so good to share. I also help distribute food to the students after class.
In addition to my specific assignments, I use my social networks to share the gospel. I have a page I created when I was 17 years old that talks about the youth program.
The Lord has called us to serve. He knows us and our capabilities. Service missions are inspired by the Lord, and if you were assigned to serve one, it’s because the Lord needs your help in building His kingdom.
Even if I’m sad or facing difficulties, I really like it when I complete each month of my mission and can reflect on how I’ve grown and been strengthened during that time. I love my mission. It really is inspired by the Lord.

When I went to Russia as a volunteer English teacher, I knew very little Russian. But as I lived among the Russian people, I began to have the desire to serve them and share the gospel with them. So I started working harder to learn the language.
I started by reading a children’s version of the Book of Mormon in Russian. Armed with a Russian/English dictionary, I struggled through a chapter a day, looking up nearly every word. Then I taught myself to pray in Russian, feeling foolish as the foreign words stumbled off my tongue. Finally, I started learning to bear my testimony. To practice, I would write it in Russian in my journal. It didn’t take long for me to decide that it was hard to learn Russian.
Nearly three months into my stay in Ufa, Russia, another English teacher and I planned a trip to a faraway city called Saratov. We were met at the train station by a wonderful Latter-day Saint family who opened their hearts and their home to us. Our time there was soon over, and we were once again on the train, ready for the 20-hour train ride back to Ufa.
We shared our small compartment with two businessmen who made us a little nervous. They were extremely polite though, so we soon felt safe. When we had left Saratov, the family we had stayed with had explained the importance of being an example: “Don’t forget that everyone is watching you. Everyone.” They gave us a few missionary pamphlets and challenged us to give them away before we got home.
Dubiously, I eyed the two men across from us. I sighed and decided they probably wouldn’t be interested.
But when I got out my scriptures to read, the men were curious and started asking questions. We gave them the pamphlets, which they read.
Later on the trip I started writing in my journal. The men asked why I wasn’t writing in Russian, so I showed them that I often did. The pages I happened to show them contained my testimony. They asked to read it, and I willingly obliged. They also eagerly started reading the Russian copy of the Book of Mormon I gave to them. As they asked questions, I felt as if the room would burst from the Spirit that filled it. One of the men asked if I could feel in my heart “the fire” that was in his and asked if I knew what it was. In my broken Russian I explained it was the Holy Ghost.
I had him read 3 Nephi 11. As we read of the Savior’s ministry among the people on the American continent, tears came to his eyes. He stopped reading and quietly asked, “Does Jesus Christ love me like He loved those people?”
With tears in my eyes I answered, “Yes, He knows you, and He loves you. That is why He wants you to know the truth about His gospel.” He looked at me for another moment and then dropped his eyes to read further. When we arrived in Ufa, we gave him the missionaries’ phone number.
It took a special 20-hour train ride to teach me that I don’t need to be on a full-time mission to serve the Lord and share the gospel. I don’t know if the little seeds that were planted that night have grown. But I do know that miracles occurred. I was converted, even if those men were not.

I became a member of the Church in 1997 through my elder brother, Francis Marveh, who received the gospel in Freetown through his friend. Through the callings I have had, I was motivated to serve a full-time mission. Though I thought it was to be a place of laxity and comfort, I realized it was entirely the opposite. I had a lot to learn and to experience, and I clearly understood what it was. I served diligently as a senior companion, trainer, district leader, and a zone leader. I am grateful to be a returned missionary, still serving in the Church as a leader in my ward. I am married and sealed to my beautiful and supportive wife, Isatu Fatima Marveh, and we are truly blessed. I know that perseverance strengthens our weaknesses if only we rely on our Saviour and Redeemer of the world, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen. —Josephus Salia Marveh, Njagboima Ward, Bo-Sierra Leone West Stake

You know the scripture in 2 Nephi 32:5, where Nephi tells us, “The Holy Ghost … will show unto [us] all things what [we] should do”? I never really understood that statement until I experienced it.
Some friends and I were out on our bikes one afternoon at a place called the “dirt hills.” It was our favorite place to go. We went there almost every day. It was only about a mile from where we lived, so we could ride our bikes there. We could literally spend hours on end at the dirt hills, jumping our bikes. It was great fun.
One time when we were there, my friend Tyler crashed his bike. He and his bike seemed to be OK, so we kept jumping. After about five more minutes, I stopped my bike. Tyler came over and asked what was wrong. I told him I had a really strong feeling that we should leave and go home. I felt kind of weird saying that because we had only been there about 15 minutes. But Tyler told me he felt the same feeling. I knew it was time to go.
As we got closer to home, Tyler kept saying his bike was acting strange. Then it broke into pieces as we reached the corner of the street where we both lived. The pedals fell off and the chain broke.
What would have happened had we not followed the prompting to leave? The Holy Ghost knew it was time to go. He showed us that it was time.
I am so thankful we listened to the Spirit when we did.

In the early years of our marriage, Sister Meha and I were not blessed with children. We desired to start a family soon after our sealing in the Laie Hawaii Temple. We lived in Temple View Apartments, where most of our neighbors were expecting children. Naturally, as students we were both busy with classes, working at the Polynesian Cultural Center and fulfilling church callings. When would we ever find time to have children? We waited and waited. A year before graduation an offer came from Bro. Barney Wihongi, principal of the Church College of New Zealand to join the faculty in January 1983.

Leaving TVA we felt that the expectation to have children would be lifted because we were living in a different community far removed from Laie. But Temple View is a smaller version of Laie. There is a temple and a Church school and most of the people living there knew me as I had graduated from CCNZ, and they soon got to know Sis. Meha. We continued to serve and in fact, those years were some of the most rewarding for us as a newly married couple.

We served in a student ward at CCNZ. When Sister Meha was the Mia Maid Advisor, I was the Teachers Quorum Advisor. Later, she served as the Laurel Advisor and I served as Priest's Quorum Advisor. In a student ward with about one hundred and fifty students it was not unusual to have a quorum of twenty five teachers and a quorum of twenty five priests. I can still see the faces of those bright, energetic, young men, many of whom served honorable proselyting missions and have become good husbands and fathers.

We did not have two-deep leadership in the Young Mens' program in those days, so I was the scout leader on weeknights and the quorum advisor on Sundays. In addition to my teaching assignment, I was expected to support student clubs and organizations and give additional time to support school activities on weekends. It soon became a challenge to find the kind of time together that we longed for while living in TVA and clearly did not have at CCNZ. At least once a month, the priests would come to our small home for a fireside—all twenty five of them. On occasion, the Laurels would join them for an activity usually involving lots of food. I'm sure those activities were well attended because of the chance for students to mingle and have fun.

In some of her spare time, Sister Meha taught in the Religion Department, a first experience for her as she had not enjoyed the experience of early morning seminary classes as a youth. Her introduction to gospel study was in the religion classes taken on this campus as an undergraduate. Our lives were very busy yet we longed for a child. We would have to wait five years before our eldest child was born while we lived in Temple View. During that period of waiting we were being prepared for Jayson's arrival and the blessings that soon followed. Our hearts were mellowed and accepting of Heavenly Father's plan for our family. We prayed fervently to be blessed with each of our children. Our prayers were answered, but we needed to learn that He has a purpose and timetable for us and that He will bless us as we are patient and wait upon Him.

My university days were not all easy. As I neared the time for graduation, I seemed to have a mountain of work to complete before the specified time, and I worried that I would miss the deadline. Over the years of college training I had been earnest in my prayers and had constantly asked that the Lord would bless and guide me. But I was not aware of any special help received, even though I had made good progress. One Sunday, about a week before graduation, my wife and I were visiting a young couple who were our close friends. (You see, I didn’t study on Sunday, because I thought that during my school years that would be the same as working.) My friend asked me if I was ready for graduation. I told him that my work was still incomplete and that there was some doubt whether I could complete it.
“Oh,” he said, “you’ll make it all right. Let’s look in the newspaper. They just published the list of graduates.” He began by reading the names of those who would graduate with honors, and he included my name.
Of course, I knew he was only teasing, and I laughed as I said, “You can’t fool me with your jokes.”
Then he said, “Well, isn’t this your address?” and he read that.
I said, “Let me see the paper.”
As I read my name among those who were to receive honors, my eyes filled with tears and an inward light filled my whole being with understanding. As clearly as in a vision I saw how, over the years, in quiet, unseen ways, God had been listening to my prayers and had overshadowed me with his blessed influence to bring me through triumphant!

The Holy Ghost will also guide you as you make decisions regarding your future. Another young woman I know was dating a tall, handsome young man—the star of the school basketball team and senior class president. While discussing their future plans, she explained that she had made a decision a long time ago to marry a returned missionary in the temple. A mission was not part of his plans, and nothing more was said. The following Christmas, he gave her a small gift. As she opened it, she realized that it was a letter from a prophet of God calling her friend to serve a mission. Her righteous influence helped him make that important decision.

Many times during his life, he said, he had found comfort and strength in those words. But his first, cherished experience with answered prayer emphasized the value of teaching children early.
It was his job, as a young boy, to walk 3.2 kilometers to the pasture in the early morning every day to bring back the family’s cows for milking. Along the way, he would notice the gold and orange-colored sunbeams streaming through the clouds, or see the glistening dew on tall sunflower leaves.
This particular morning, he told us, was different. There was a low fog suspended above the ground, and as he walked toward the pasture the fog became more dense. Then slowly, before the sun came over the mountains, the fog enclosed him. He began to whistle in an attempt to control the panic rising within him. But even as he whistled he began to tremble in his loneliness and in his fear of the blackness that seemed to wrap around him like a moist blanket.
Then as he seemed to feel completely lost to the elements, he remembered his mother’s counsel: “There’s no reason to be afraid, remember that your Heavenly Father is always with you.”
Six-year-old Clint knelt on the dew-soaked grass and prayed to the One who could help him. His simple faith was not misplaced. As a calmness came upon him, he opened his eyes and saw a cow on her way home, that had wandered close by. A small voice from within him told him to follow the animal. Holding on to its tail, Clint soon entered the comfortable safety of the barn where his father was preparing for the milking.
Now, as he stood before us, a young man of twenty-one, Clint said how grateful he was for the lessons and experiences of his childhood days. He had used the memory of those days to help him in many times of trial and uncertainty. He had, he declared, a strong testimony of prayer—a testimony founded on his mother’s teachings.

As I’ve pondered how we receive answers to prayers, my mind was drawn to an experience with our youngest son, Kimball. You see, Kimball has Down Syndrome. This condition makes many physical tasks and skills much more challenging for him to learn than for most of us. One of the skills that Kimball has struggled to learn is how to ride a two-wheel bicycle. Recently, we were made aware of a program called “I Can Bike,” which teaches kids with special needs to ride a bicycle.
It works by using a cone-shaped training wheel for additional stability and a support person jogging alongside. As the rider gains confidence and experience, the size of the cone is reduced and eventually removed and replaced with a normal wheel. The support person also fades into the background. The results of this program have been tremendous, with the vast majority of participants learning to ride a bicycle in less than a week.
Kimball is with us here today. Kimball, would you please come stand beside me for a minute?
Last summer, Kimball participated in this program and, though far from expert status, has newfound freedom, confidence, and joy from the simple pleasure of riding a bike. Here’s a brief video of Kimball in action:
Thank you, Kimball. That was truly inspiring.

I think it important that we get acquainted with Him. I wonder if I should tell a story. Sometimes I have been accused of doing that. I can’t help it. I’m like a man having fits. When a man has fits he knows he is going to have one—he feels it coming on and he has it. When I feel a story coming on, the only possible thing for me to do is to tell it. This story has to do with an experience of my own.

An Aura of Awful Blackness

It has been indicated that I was asked to come down from Canada at a time when I was drilling oil wells, a time when I thought I was almost a millionaire, a time when it looked like nothing could save me from becoming a millionaire. I didn’t want to be saved from the down-drag of money, but I had, at that time, a sort of feeling that I wanted to know whether it was right for me to pursue the course I was taking.

I awoke one morning at about three o’clock—mornings come early up there in the summertime. I was in a little cottage up in the Canadian Rockies. I was worried and bothered. I got out of my bed, dressed, and went up into the mountains, far back in the hills, remembering that the Savior often went to the mountains for His communications with His Father.

When I got up in the mountains on top of a peak, I was all alone. I removed my hat, and in a loud voice I said, “Oh, God, are you there? You know that I am about to be a millionaire, or I think I am. Father, if this is not to be good for me or my family, don’t allow it to happen. If it is going to rob my family of their faith, don’t allow it to happen.” I talked to Him as a man would talk to another man. I didn’t seem to get an answer. I stayed up there for some time.

I drove that evening back to Edmonton, and upon arriving I said to Sister Brown, “I think I’ll not want any supper tonight. I think I’ll go in the back bedroom and sleep. You had better stay in the other room, because I fear I am going to have a wakeful night.”

I went into that bedroom and closed the door, and I was conscious of a blackness such as I had never known. There was something in that room that made me feel very sincerely that I would like to be rubbed out—that I would like to cease to be. I didn’t think of suicide, but I did think seriously that if there were any way that I could be washed out, that would be the best thing that could happen to me.

I spent the night in that attitude, in that aura of awful blackness. Early in the morning Sister Brown came in—she had heard me walking the floor. When she closed the door, she said, “My goodness, my dear! What’s in this room?”

I said, “The devil is in this room, and he is trying to destroy me.”

Deliverance and Peace

Together we knelt at the bedside and prayed for guidance and deliverance. We didn’t seem to get it. The next morning I went down to my office in the city. It was Saturday. I knew no one would be there, and I wanted to be alone. I knelt by my cot and pleaded to God for deliverance, for that awful blackness was still on my soul. And it seemed to me that the sun came up. I obtained peace of soul and serenity of spirit.

I phoned Sister Brown and told her, “Every­thing is all right. I don’t know what happened, but it’s all right.”

A Call from the Prophet

That night I was taking a bath. The telephone rang. Sister Brown came to the door and said, “Salt Lake is calling.”

I said, “Who in the dickens wants to talk to me at this time of night?” It was 10:30. I went to the phone.

When I said hello I heard a voice that said, “This is David O. McKay calling.”

I said, “Yes, President McKay.”

“The Lord wants you to give the balance of your life to the Church. Tomorrow will be the closing session of conference. Can you get here in time for the afternoon session?”

I told him I couldn’t, as there were no planes flying. He said, “Come as soon as you can.”

You know, I didn’t think to ask him what there was in it. That’s what I would do in an ordinary business deal.

I hung up, and that night—this was the night following the night of blackness in our lives—Sister Brown and I spent another wakeful night, but it was a night of bliss. Not that we were looking for position, but to think that the God of heaven would reach out l,200 miles and touch a man on the shoulder and say, “Come,” and to think that I would be that man was almost more than I could understand!

I told the president when I came down thirty days later about this experience, and he said, “As far as I know, every man who is called into the General Authorities has to wrestle with the devil.” You have to have a lot of courage if you come out victorious.

Keryn stuffed an extra pair of jeans into her suitcase, then squeezed it shut.
“There!” she said to herself.
She had been looking forward to the school trip for months. Her class would be at camp for two days, living like pioneers—making candles, cooking over fires, even helping to build a log cabin.
Keryn glanced around the room, trying to spot anything she had missed. Her toothbrush was packed. She had clean clothes and an extra pair of shoes—oh, she’d better grab her old sweatshirt.
As she picked up her sweatshirt off the floor, her eyes fell on her scriptures on the table by the bed, and she froze.
Each member of her family had agreed to read the Book of Mormon daily, and so far Keryn hadn’t missed a night. But how was she supposed to read it in a cabin full of girls from school? With a sigh, she unlatched her suitcase, stuffed her scriptures between T-shirts and jeans, and sat on the suitcase to close it. Maybe she could find some quiet time to go off by herself and read.
“C’mon, Keryn. Race you to the campfire!” Sarah took off, and Keryn ran to catch up.
The day had been fun and very busy. Keryn had chopped at a log to help build the cabin, dunked candlewicks into wax over and over, carved a whale out of soap, and swum in the lake.
The fun carried on through the campfire time of singing songs and listening to a storyteller. Finally, Keryn, Sarah, and two of their cabinmates marched through the darkness to the cabin arm in arm, singing loudly.
The girls flopped onto their bunk beds, told stories, and laughed about the day. Then one by one they began to get ready for bed.
Keryn brushed her teeth, then climbed onto her top bunk and listened to the others. She had decided to leave her scriptures in the suitcase, but she just didn’t feel right. Then these words came into her mind: “Read them. You know you need to read them.”
Reluctantly, Keryn climbed out of bed and pulled her scriptures out of her suitcase. Then she climbed back up and tried to open the Book of Mormon without being noticed.
No such luck. She had just found her place in Mosiah when Sarah poked her head over the edge of the bunk. “What are you reading?” she asked.
“OK,” Keryn told herself, “it’s time to be a missionary.”
“It’s a book like the Bible, and it’s called the Book of Mormon,” she said aloud.
Sarah climbed up on the bunk with her. “What’s it about?”
Carol and Tasha gathered around, too.
Keryn sat up. “Well, right now I’m in a part called Mosiah, and a prophet named Abinadi is preaching the gospel to the wicked king and his priests. He’s telling them about the Ten Commandments and all the things they should already know. But they’re doing evil things instead.” She scooted over so Tasha could climb up.
“What happens to them?” Tasha asked.
“Well, later Abinadi won’t deny God, so the king has him killed.”
“What?” exclaimed Sarah. “That’s awful.”
“Yeah, it’s really sad,” Keryn agreed. “But Alma, one of the king’s priests, really listens to Abinadi. He ends up teaching the gospel to lots of people.”
“That’s awesome,” Tasha said. “I read my Bible most days, but I didn’t bring it here.” Then she flipped onto her stomach and reached down to the bottom bunk. “Hey, Carol, did you see me jump in the lake?”
Keryn smiled as the conversation turned back to the day’s events. She was glad she hadn’t left her scriptures in her suitcase, glad her friends didn’t make fun of her, and glad she had a chance to tell them about the Book of Mormon.
She looked at Sarah, Carol, and Tasha, now talking about their craft projects, then turned back to her book and continued reading about Abinadi and King Noah.

Illustrations by Shauna Mooney Kawasaki
Good morning, Mister Matt and Miss Mandy.
Good morning, Mister Bernini.
What’s this?
It’s a thank-you gift for helping us stay safe.
We really appreciate it.
And we think you’re a nice person. Thank you.
Well, thank you right back. Now let’s get a couple of very nice children across this street.
At Mr. Bernini’s home.
I got a raise this morning.
A raise? How much?
This much!

As a single student bishop, I had the opportunity to help some of my ward members remember their desire to be counted in on the redeeming power of the Atonement. They would come in to see me with what seemed to be a backpack full of burdens resulting from prior sins and transgressions. The burdens they carried weighed down their spirits and correspondingly their studies, their social life, their activity in the Church, their work, and their self-confidence such that they were neither receiving the redeeming power of the Atonement nor the enablingpower of the Atonement. However, through humility, pure repentance, faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, and good old-fashioned hard work, the power of the Atonement healed them, and the Spirit returned. I felt so blessed to be able to witness the miracle of forgiveness in their lives.