Gospel Story Finder

Carissa Thorne is from Orem, Utah. When she attended a national convention for student council leaders last summer, she thought she and a few of her friends were the only Mormons at the conference. So imagine her surprise when two girls walked up and said:
“Hi, we’re Charlene and Jennifer. We’re from Hawaii, and we’re Mormons. Are you?”
Charlene Ignacio and Jennifer Kajiyama were able to locate a total of 25 LDS students at the conference using this method. The group had a testimony meeting and invited anyone who was interested to attend. They placed seven copies of the Book of Mormon and answered lots of questions about their beliefs.
“We found that this conference was a testimony building experience,” says Carissa. “Not only were we touched by our experiences, but many others were also touched by our testimonies of Jesus Christ.”

As a young boy, I had great aspirations. One day after school, I asked, “Mom, what should I be when I grow up: a professional basketball player or a rock star?” Unfortunately, Clark “the toothless wonder” showed no signs of future athletic or musical glory. And despite multiple efforts, I was repeatedly denied admission to my school’s advanced academic program. My teachers finally suggested I should just stick to the standard classroom. Over time, I developed compensating study habits. But it wasn’t until my mission to Japan that I felt my intellectual and spiritual possibilities begin to emerge. I continued to work hard. But for the first time in my life, I systematically involved the Lord in my development, and it made all the difference.

Illustration by David Malan
A year after becoming a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I sent in my papers to serve as a full-time missionary. My family was totally against me serving a mission and thought that I should get my master’s degree instead. I had recently finished my bachelor’s degree, and it was always my dream to get a master’s degree when I finished. My professors were willing to help me as well because I was a good student.
As I prepared to leave for my mission, life became very difficult financially for my family. My oldest brother lost his job. A short time later the company where my father had worked for many years began to fail economically, and he was laid off. My father ended up using all of his government benefits to help my grandmother, and one night I saw him crying because he didn’t know how to support the family.
At the time, I was receiving a university scholarship that was about equal to half of a minimum wage salary. When I received my payments, I would always pay my tithing first. But when I received my most recent payment after my father lost his job, my mother asked me not to give money to the Church because we needed it at home. I told her about tithing and its importance and showed her the promise the Lord gave in Malachi 3:10. Although she wasn’t happy, I paid my tithing and I knew that it was right.
While I continued my mission preparation, I entered a competition at a local university just to see how I would do. I passed and was offered a position where I could earn almost the same amount of money that my father had earned in his job. It would be enough to take care of my family until my father could retire. My family hoped that I would take the job.
I prayed a lot, and the Lord responded that I needed to go out to the mission field. I trusted Him and accepted my call to the Brazil Santa Maria Mission. The Lord blessed my family while I was gone on my mission. I know the windows of heaven were opened (see Malachi 3:10). My father and brother found work again, and the family was able to raise dairy cows for more income.
My testimony of Jesus Christ and His work has grown, and seeing the joy on the faces and the change in the hearts of those I served is something very valuable to me. No amount of money is equal to the blessing of seeing families prepare to go to the temple and be sealed.

I can’t give this talk without mentioning one more person in who has really seen me through in my life and that person is my husband. When we got married, he got a full time teaching job, but I was still in school, so because I had a longer commute, he would come home from work and do all the cooking as well. As he mentioned earlier, I was in a serious car accident during graduate school. Following that accident, he had to continue all of his own responsibilities, but also take care of me, and take on all of the household responsibilities. He even taught one of my classes. When our kids came along, he took equal interest in them, and there has been no task required of him that he is unwilling to do. He supports me in my desires for work and artistic development, and I could not do the work on campus in all that I do without his help. He follows a lifelong pattern of service to me and the rest of our family.

Diego trudged up the hill on his way home from school. Recess was usually the best part of the day. But all week it had been terrible! No one wanted to play soccer with him, so he just walked around the playground by himself until the bell rang.
“Mom, I’m home!” Diego yelled as he slid through the door and sat down in the kitchen.
“How was school?” Mom asked.
“Not so good.” Diego grabbed an apple. “No one wanted to play with me at recess.” He could feel tears coming, so he squeezed his eyes shut.
“It’s hard feeling lonely or left out,” Mom said. She put her hand on Diego’s shoulder. “Maybe you could say a prayer for help.”
Diego rubbed his eyes. “Thanks,” he said and ran to his room. Did Heavenly Father really care if he had friends at recess? Diego knelt down and prayed that he could find a friend. When he finished, he felt a little better, but he still had no idea what to do.
After school the next day, there was a knock on the door. Diego ran to answer it.
“Hi, I’m Ruben,” the boy at the door said. He had just moved into an apartment downstairs. Diego had seen him on the playground today. “Do you want to play?”
Diego grinned. A friend to play with? It was an answer to his prayer!
They walked to Ruben’s place and sat down on the couch. Ruben’s older brother was playing a video game. Diego didn’t know what to think at first. The game was really violent and had gross pictures, but Ruben and his brother seemed to like it. “Get him!” Ruben shouted as they watched.
Diego felt his stomach squirm, and he stared down at his feet. He knew he wasn’t supposed to be watching video games like this one.
But what could he do?
He didn’t want his new friend to think he was too boring to play exciting video games. Would Ruben think he was weird if he spoke up?
He looked around the room and tried to think of other things they could do.
Diego took a deep breath. “Hey, umm … can you show me your room? Or maybe we can play somewhere else?” he said.
Ruben looked at Diego for a second. Diego bit his lip. Would Ruben say he didn’t want to play anymore?
Then Ruben’s eyes lit up. “Wait, do you like cars? I have the fastest cars in my room. Want to race them?”
Diego smiled and nodded. He followed Ruben out of the room. The heavy feeling lifted—he felt like he was floating down the hall! He was glad he had a new friend, and he was glad he hadn’t watched something bad.
“The red car is mine,” Ruben said, “but you can use the blue one or the green one. Which one do you want?”
Diego reached for the green car—his favorite color. This was an easy choice to make.

Our children will be more able to survive the challenges that will come to them when they know and understand that keeping God’s commandments can bring them peace and joy in their lives and enable them to walk uprightly. While traveling in the car with her mother and younger sister, five-year-old Clara sensed that her mother was deeply troubled about something. “Mommy, what’s the matter? You seem so sad.”
Not wanting to go into detail about her concerns, but feeling that she needed to acknowledge to her daughter that she was worried, Clara’s mother asked, “Clara, what would you do if you felt sad and frustrated?”
“Well,” responded Clara, and there was a long pause, “you need to take time out and think. Then you need to pray all the time and read the scriptures, especially the Book of Mormon. You need to bless other people. Just think about the good things people do for you and the good things in your life, not the bad.” Young Clara is beginning to understand how to walk uprightly before the Lord.

I wonder if you have any idea how easy you are to love and how much I love you. Just before this session started, some of our grandchildren stopped by our hotel room. They had obviously been talking about Elder Marlin Jensen’s talk of this morning. One of them said, “Are you scared, Grandpa?” I lied and said, “Not very.” Another one said, “Don’t worry, Grandpa, if you mess up, we’ll still love you.” But then reality came back into the room when someone added, “But, Grandpa, it would be very embarrassing.” So I am going to try very hard not to mess up.
On June 26, 1858, what I believe to be the largest standing army in the history of the United States up to that date began its prearranged entry into Salt Lake Valley. They had come to quell a nonexistent rebellion. Almost anyone remotely familiar with the history of the Church can tell you that they marched in relative silence within a few yards of where this building now stands, through a city described by one writer as “deserted,” and encamped some distance to the west. What followed is far less well known. In due course the army moved approximately 40 miles south of Salt Lake City to the village of Fairfield, a small farming community in Cedar Valley, home to what is estimated to have been less than 200 people. Their local spiritual leader was John Carson, my great-grandfather.
Imagine how this small congregation must have felt. After all, how would you like to wake up some morning and find that several thousand soldiers, together with over 3,000 wagons, 10,000 oxen, and 12,000 mules, had moved into your ward? The challenges were immediate. From our oral family history, and subject to all of the romanticizing and inaccuracies of such histories, we learn that Bishop Carson was gravely concerned about the welfare of the people over whom he presided. All of the challenges that attended army encampments of that time descended upon Fairfield almost overnight.
To protect the members of the congregation as much as possible, Bishop Carson met with the commander of the fort, who often dined at his hotel and with whom he developed a good relationship based upon mutual respect. The two leaders surveyed the situation and then by agreement drew a line upon the ground. No army personnel would cross into the civilian community without specific approval of their superiors. And members of the congregation would not cross into the fort without specific approval from Bishop Carson. The line on the ground represented an unspoken command: “Over this line you may not cross.”
When we were children, a line on the ground had special significance. Whenever boyhood tempers caused disagreement, the time-honored solution called for a line on the ground. The antagonists stood on opposite sides of the line, attempting to act as intimidating as possible. Someone would say, “Step over the line and you’ll be sorry,” though they usually didn’t say it in those genteel words. In those moments I learned the great value of a line on the ground and the consequences of stepping over it. In the years that have followed, I have come to understand that figurative lines on the ground are placed there by a loving Heavenly Father who seeks to protect us from Lucifer’s army.
While each of us may have dozens of lines on the ground in our life today, I would like to discuss just one of them—the line that says, “Keep each person’s name safe in your home.”
During the early years of my service as a General Authority, I was privileged to be in company with Elder Marion D. Hanks on one occasion when he related the following story. I use it here with his permission:
Oscar Kirkham was one of the great men of the Church and among the Church’s most respected Scouters. He served in the First Council of the Seventy and was a significant presence wherever he went. Often in meetings he would rise to a “point of personal privilege” and then, when recognized, would proceed to say something good about someone. Near the end of his life, he spoke briefly at Brigham Young University on the theme “say the good word.” On the morning that Elder Kirkham died, Elder Hanks was invited to the Kirkham family home. There he was handed a small, inexpensive notebook in which Elder Kirkham had kept his notes. The last two entries were: “Say the good word” and “Your name is safe in our home” (see Marion D. Hanks, foreword to Say the Good Word, by Oscar A. Kirkham [1958], 4).
What a blessing it would be if all of us could follow that counsel, if each of our names truly could be safe in the home of others. Have you noticed how easy it is to cross over the line and find fault with other people? All too often we seek to be excused from the very behavior we condemn in others. Mercy for me, justice for everyone else is a much too common addiction. When we deal with the name and reputation of another, we deal with something sacred in the sight of the Lord.
There are those among us who would recoil in horror at the thought of stealing another person’s money or property but who don’t give a second thought to stealing another person’s good name or reputation.
The old adage “Never judge another man until you have walked a mile in his footsteps” is as good advice today as it was the day it was first uttered. Someone once said:
There is so much good in the worst of us,
And so much bad in the best of us,
That it ill behooves any of us
To find fault with the rest of us.
[In Hazel Felleman, sel., The Best Loved Poems of the American People (1936), 615]
The principle is not new, nor is it unique to our day and time. The book of Psalms from the Old Testament contains this urgent warning from the Lord: “Whoso privily slandereth his neighbour, him will I cut off” (Ps. 101:5).
James, a servant of the Lord in the meridian of time, repeated this eternal truth when he said: “Speak not evil one of another, brethren. He that speaketh evil of his brother, and judgeth his brother, speaketh evil of the law, and judgeth the law. …
“… Who art thou that judgest another?” (James 4:11–12).
And in this latter day, the Lord renewed His long-taught command in a revelation given through the prophet Brigham Young: “Cease to speak evil one of another” (D&C 136:23).
It is most significant to me that this simple commandment is set forth just a few verses from the Lord’s words on the penalty for disobedience: “Be diligent in keeping all my commandments, lest judgments come upon you, and your faith fail you, and your enemies triumph over you” (D&C 136:42).
To those who doubt the importance of the commandment, may I pose two simple questions: (1) How can you say you love your fellowman when behind his back you seek to diminish his good name and reputation? (2) How can you say you love your God when you cannot even love your neighbor?
Any feeble attempt to justify such conduct only brings more forcibly to mind those explosive words of the Savior found in the book of Matthew:
“O generation of vipers, how can ye, being evil, speak good things? …
“But I say unto you, That every idle word that men shall speak, they shall give account thereof in the day of judgment.
“For by thy words thou shalt be justified, and by thy words thou shalt be condemned” (Matt. 12:34, 36–37).
I would like to say a few words to the Primary children who may be listening. Children, I’ve been trying to teach your moms and dads something very important, but I need your help. I’ll make you a deal. If you will promise to listen very carefully, I promise not to talk very long.
Do you remember the story of Bambi, the little deer, and all of his friends in the forest? If you do, you will remember that one of Bambi’s good friends was a rabbit named Thumper. Thumper was about your age. He was a neat rabbit, but he had one problem. He kept saying bad things about people. One day Bambi was in the forest learning to walk, and he fell down. Thumper just couldn’t resist the temptation. “He doesn’t walk very good, does he?” Thumper blurted out. His mother felt very bad and said, “What did your father tell you this morning?” And then Thumper, looking down at his feet and kind of shifting his weight, said, “If you can’t say somethin’ nice, don’t say nothin’ at all.” That’s a good piece of advice that all of us need to follow. What I need you to do, young people, is this. If you hear anyone in your family start to say something bad about someone else, will you please just stamp your foot and say in a loud voice, “If you can’t say somethin’ nice, don’t say nothin’ at all.” Now, even though that isn’t correct English, everyone will understand exactly what you mean. Now, Moms and Dads, that ought to make it a little easier to live the commandment.
I pray that the Lord will bless each of us that we may never cross over the line on the ground and that we may live so that it can be said, “Your name is safe in our home.”
On this special Easter Day, I close with my solemn declaration, born of the Spirit, that Jesus Christ is indeed our Savior and our Redeemer and that salvation comes by and through His atoning sacrifice and in no other way. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

It sometimes happens that the happiness we seek in many ways and in many places is to be found where we least expect it. So it was with me. I had happiness within my grasp all the time, but for years I did not recognize it.
I was 24 years old in 1981 when I was baptized into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. My husband was baptized with me. At the time, our daughter, Juliana, was two years old. Our branch in Tucuruvi, Brazil, was so small that we met in a home on Avenida Nova Cantareira. For some reason, after attending meetings for less than a year, we left the Church.
By the time we moved to Guarulhos in 1983, we had no desire to return to the Church and had lost complete contact with Church members. This was a time of great difficulty for us. One day while I was sweeping the house, my husband and I decided to throw all of our old Church books in the garbage. Among the books was a copy of the Book of Mormon.
In all the time I had owned the book, I had never opened it. I considered the book of no value. But as I went to place it in the trash, Juliana, who was four years old at the time caught sight of the figure of the angel Moroni on the cover and said, “No, Mama, don’t throw that book away!” I thought of throwing it away anyway, but I looked at my husband and he looked at me. We decided to honor our daughter’s request.
And so the book remained in our home.
In 1987 I gave birth to our third child and experienced some difficult health problems. I began seeking the truth, trying to find some answers to why I was so unhappy. In despair, I began to believe there was no salvation for me.
One day in 1989, the Lord prompted me to pick up the Book of Mormon. I started to read it—and found I could hardly stop. Each day I waited eagerly for the dawn so I could continue reading. The Spirit was so strong within me that I cried. I finally understood how much I had lost by leaving the path of the Lord I had once been on.
I resolved to find the Church. Searching our telephone book, I found the Church’s name and called the number listed. We started attending meetings again and have remained active ever since. My husband and I have now been to the temple, and we are sealed as a family for eternity.
I know that the Book of Mormon is true and that if we study it constantly, we will find the strength to overcome any obstacle. I thank Heavenly Father both for my blessings and for my trials—and for prompting our daughter to keep us from throwing the Book of Mormon away. I know that had I thrown the book away, with it I would have thrown away my happiness.

This was demonstrated to me in a most interesting way when I was thrown into a situation upon returning from my mission, and it taught me the real value of teamwork. World War II was raging, and I had just joined the Marine Corps to fulfill my service obligation. As part of our training we had forced marches. Loaded with packs on our backs and rifles over our shoulders, off we would go on a little five-or ten-mile hike over the hot desert terrain of southern California. Following the long columns of Marine platoons would be a Red Cross truck to pick up those who could not make it. To have one of your platoon members picked up by the Red Cross truck was a disgrace worse than anything you could possibly imagine. If one of your number was failing, you would help by carrying his pack or his rifle. If he was still failing, two others would share their packs and rifles with other members willing to carry them along with their own, and they would carry the failing buddy to help him to the end of the hike. The teamwork created was a bonding that was difficult to describe.

Recently, my husband and I took our almost twelve-year-old daughter to the House of the Lord for the first time to perform proxy baptisms for the dead. I couldn’t help but look at her as she stood in the font with her dad and remember her own baptism day four years ago. She’s grown physically as well as spiritually—I see her discipleship is defining her—preparing her to participate in saving ordinances for others. Through the Young Women organization, she will help prepare sacred spaces for the sacrament, hold doors open, and quietly serve as others renew their covenants. It’s a holy practice of sorts, quietly going about doing good to make covenant-making and keeping more focused for herself and others.

Yet, thanks to divine providence, an ember of hope for Koreans began to grow in New York, USA. Syngman Rhee, president of Korea, sent Kim Ho Jik, director of the Suwon Agricultural Experimentation Station, to the United States to learn how to improve nutrition in the Korean diet. Ho Jik chose Cornell University, which had an excellent graduate study program in nutrition. In 1949 he started to pursue a doctoral degree—as well as attend various church meetings around Ithaca, New York, to find the “true church.”1
Ho Jik made friends with a man named Oliver Wayman. Unlike Ho Jik’s other acquaintances, Oliver did not drink or smoke and never swore. He also never worked on Sundays. One day Ho Jik asked Oliver, “What makes you live that way?” In answer to that question, Oliver gave him a book titled The Articles of Faith by Elder James E. Talmage (1862–1933) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles.
Ho Jik read The Articles of Faith within a week and then read the Book of Mormon. He believed both books and told Oliver the Book of Mormon was “more complete and easier to understand than the Bible.”2 Ho Jik accepted the gospel message like dry ground receiving long-awaited rains. His faith grew day by day. He started to receive the missionary lessons and decided to be baptized.
On July 29, 1951, 46-year-old Kim Ho Jik was baptized in the Susquehanna River—he wanted to be baptized near where the Prophet Joseph Smith and Oliver Cowdery were baptized over 100 years before. When he was coming out of the water, he heard a clear voice saying, “Feed my sheep.” That impression led him to devote the rest of his life to helping the gospel take root in Korea.

One of my daughters-in-law spent many years feeling that God had placed a pavilion over her. She was a young mother of three who longed for more children. After two miscarriages, her prayers of pleading grew anguished. As more barren years passed, she felt tempted to anger. When her youngest went off to school, the emptiness of her house seemed to mock her focus on motherhood—so did the unplanned and even unwanted pregnancies of acquaintances. She felt as committed and consecrated as Mary, who declared, “Behold the handmaid of the Lord.”6 But although she spoke these words in her heart, she could hear nothing in reply.
Hoping to lift her spirits, her husband invited her to join him on a business trip to California. While he attended meetings, she walked along the beautiful, empty beach. Her heart ready to burst, she prayed aloud. For the first time, she asked not for another child but for a divine errand. “Heavenly Father,” she cried, “I will give you all of my time; please show me how to fill it.” She expressed her willingness to take her family wherever they might be required to go. That prayer produced an unexpected feeling of peace. It did not satisfy her mind’s craving for certainty, but for the first time in years, it calmed her heart.
The prayer removed the pavilion and opened the windows of heaven. Within two weeks she learned that she was expecting a child. The new baby was just one year old when a mission call came to my son and my daughter-in-law. Having promised to go and do anything, anywhere, she put fear aside and took her children overseas. In the mission field she had another child—on a missionary transfer day.

Ten years ago, a young man from the village of 'Utulau, Tongatapu shared this experience in his admission essay: "One of the experiences that helped define me as a person happened when my family served a mission in the Ha'apai group in 1983. My mom and sister left us to go to Tongatapu and my Dad left us on the following day to go to another island for a church purpose. We stayed at home and what we ate everyday was a paper bag of sugar and a small tin of milo. After three days they were finished and I was crying because of hunger. My two elder brothers, one was nine and one was seven years old at the time, tried to comfort me by swinging me on a "heke" inside the house, but it was unsuccessful. They were crying as I was crying. My brothers prayed and asked Heavenly Father to help us. My eldest brother asked my other brother to go and check whether there was some sugar stuck to the paper bag so that I may lick it. The three of us will never forget that moment when my brother showed us that both were full of sugar and milo. Before we used it, we knelt down and thanked Heavenly Father for what He had done for us. This experience always reminds us that when we do God's will He will guide us, and second, I must trust Him and rely on Him in everything I do. My father was worried to leave us alone at home but he knows that he must go and do God's will. Because he did God's will, God took care of us and showed us a miracle which we will not forget. I must trust Him and rely on Him in everything I do. I know for sure that everything He gave us He always prepares a way for us to do."

After nearly four years in Hawaii, Joseph F. returned home. One morning when he and several other missionaries were returning to Salt Lake City, a group of rough Mormon-haters rode up on horses, firing their guns and cursing.
The leader jumped off his horse and shouted, “We will kill anyone who is a Mormon!” The other missionaries had fled into the woods, but Joseph F. bravely stood his ground. The man shoved a gun in Joseph F.’s face and asked, “Are you a Mormon?”
Joseph F. stood tall and said, “Yes siree; dyed in the wool; true blue, through and through!”
The man was surprised at his reply. He put the gun away, shook Joseph’s hand, and said, “Well, you are the pleasantest man I ever met! I’m glad to see a fellow stand up for his convictions.” He jumped back on his horse and rode off with his companions.

“I can remember my first big fishing trip. I was ten years old, and we went to Mackay, Idaho. My father taught me how to put the worm on the hook, and it was very distasteful to me. I kept thinking, Dad, why can’t you do this? I don’t want to do it. When I asked him, though, he said, ‘If you’re going to learn to fish, you have to learn to do everything.’ And so he made me put the worm on the hook. Then, when I caught my first fish, I didn’t know what to do with that wiggly, slippery thing. My father taught me how to clean the fish: I had to hold it in one hand and cut it open and clean out its entrails, which was a very unpleasant job for me. But I could see my father’s wisdom—without actually doing all that a task requires, we often don’t learn everything we need to know.”

In 1967 Bent had come to British Columbia, Canada, where I worked at the government employment office. He was looking for work and a place to stay. I found him work, and Martha and I agreed that we had room for one more boarder. We already had two, one of whom was Svend Hansen, a strong Church member.
Svend soon challenged Bent to read the Book of Mormon, and Bent did so with the intention of finding fault with it. Finding none, he wanted to be baptized. He was the first person baptized in our new stake center.

While sitting in a medical clinic waiting room, I noticed a mother with her daughter. The child wore a face mask and coughed many times. Her eyes were sunken, and her face was pale. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. Her mother looked worn-out.
The waiting room was small, so I heard everything she said. After she paid her co-pay for their visit, the receptionist reminded her of a past-due balance that was more than double what her current visit cost.
The woman explained, with difficulty controlling her emotions, that she would not have any spare money until the following month. She said she barely had enough to pay her rent. The receptionist told her she should try to pay off her balance as quickly as possible. The woman and her child were then ushered into the back for their appointment.
As I sat there, I couldn’t stop thinking about the woman and her situation. I am by no means wealthy, but when I thought about how good the Lord has been to my family and me, I felt an overwhelming desire to help this woman and her daughter.
I approached the receptionist, wondering if what I wanted to do was even possible. I explained that I had overheard the woman’s predicament and wanted to pay her remaining balance. The receptionist was surprised but also delighted to honor my request.
I asked her to tell the woman that the balance had been paid and that she no longer need worry about it. I also told the receptionist not to say who had paid it. Then I paid the balance and continued with my appointment. I did not see the woman or her daughter again, but I prayed that things would soon improve for them.
It is hard to describe the amazing joy that filled my soul as I left the clinic that day. No wonder the Savior speaks about having a fulness of joy (see Doctrine and Covenants 11:13). More than ever before, I knew that I wanted to be more like my Savior and to experience more often the joy that comes from serving Him.

Last week, my wife and I rented a car and drove from Boston to New Hampshire. We were to meet President and Sister Hunter of the New Hampshire, Manchester Mission. The President had given us instructions to get to the mission home. We also had a map of the area. Our rental car was equipped with a sophisticated instrument called the "Magellan, never lost" system. It is the most advanced on-board system ever engineered by experts in satellite navigation technology. It gives clear turn-by-turn voice prompts as well as visual directions. With the car in a parked position, we entered the city and street address of the mission home and started our journey. The instructions were precise and accurate.... "in one mile you will make a right hand turn" then in a moment, "get into the right lane and exit in two-tenths of a mile."

We were instructed to exit the turnpike at the first toll booth. We became confused because there were different toll booths for different destinations, and we weren’t sure which was the correct one. We chose the one that we thought was the correct exit, but we made a mistake. We actually got off the turnpike one exit too soon. It required us to stop the vehicle and then to reprogram the system based upon our new location. With the help of our navigation system, we knew precisely where we were. We then got back onto the Everett Turnpike so we could take the correct exit. We learned to depend upon our on-board navigational instrument. Without it, we would have been lost and confused. We also would not have made a timely connection with the mission president. As it turned out, we arrived on time and were grateful for the help we received.

My personal example is much less dramatic but perhaps still relevant.

I was beginning my second year here at BYU–Hawaii, and I was fortunate enough to have a job with ASBYU. One day, I entered the Aloha Center and was walking to my office. A ways off, I saw this very cute girl reading on one of the couches outside the offices. Uncharacteristic for me, I instantly recalled having met her just once, about a year before, at the Yoshimura Store at PCC. She was a friend of my sister and was dating someone, etc. As I was about to open the door of the office, I heard a voice in my mind say, “Go talk with that girl.” I brushed it off, telling myself I had too much to do to be taking time for that stuff right now—studying, important ASBYU things. So I unlocked the door and entered the ASBYU offices. Once inside, I again heard a voice say, “Go talk with her.” Again I brushed it off. I was busy. I unlocked my inner office door and started to sit down when I heard the voice in my mind again tell me to go out now and talk with her. And this time, there was also a foreboding feeling that this was the third and final time I would hear that guidance, and it would be my great loss if I did not do as directed. So I reluctantly left the office and went to speak with this girl. Having no idea what I was going to say, I simply started by reminding her that we had met long ago. Fortunately, she remembered the occasion. and it had been a positive experience! I probed to learn about her dating status and fortunately found she was free. I was struck by her beauty, quick wit, intelligence, and, well, pretty much everything about her. We found ways to run into each other and eventually be together nearly every day after for the next eight months.

Even so, eight months later, I found myself praying earnestly for an answer to my prayers: “Should I marry Anne?” Up to the night before our wedding, I was in panic. I had NOT yet receive the answer I was looking for to confirm that it was the right thing to do. Strangely, the promptings I experienced that brought us together had been pushed aside in my mind. I wanted more, but I was already on the right course. I did not need further guidance to get on the right track. Fortunately, we were married as planned, and I have never, not one single moment since, regretted that decision—it is the single best decision I have ever made.

My name is Christopher. My feet jump, jump, jump, and run, run, run, and hop, hop hop, so much that Mom calls me Chris-hopper.
On Sunday, Mom said, “Chris-hopper, it’s time to be Christopher. Tell your feet to slow down.
I told them, but they forgot.
On Monday, Mom and I went to the zoo. We saw giraffes, lions, elephants, and monkeys. Best of all, I liked to watch the kangaroos hop. I call them roo-hoppers. Then we saw a giant turtle moving oh … so … slow. I call it a no-hopper. It gave me an idea.
On the next Sunday, I put on my best clothes and my best shoes. Then I taped a little picture of a turtle on the toe of each shoe. “No-hoppers!” I exclaimed and ran to show Mom. She gave me the thumbs-up.
At church, I looked at the turtles on my shoes and said to my feet, “No-hoppers at church.” Now my feet remember to walk in the meetinghouse.
But when I go outside, I’m Chris-hopper again.