Gospel Story Finder

Recently I listened as a couple complained that they had few interests in common. She liked to read; he didn’t. He played racquetball, but physical problems kept her from doing so. The list of differences went on and on. I asked if there wasn’t just one interest they shared. They shook their heads. Finally I suggested they take a ceramics class together. Neither had tried anything like that, so it gave them a new, common interest. The effect was unbelievable. As they worked toward a common goal, the excitement of growing together helped them gradually forget their differences.

It started with a phone call. Elmer wanted to ask Geraldine for a date to the prom, but she hadn’t been his first choice. So when Geraldine answered the phone, Elmer blurted out, “I couldn’t get anyone else to go with me; do you want to go?” This approach did nothing to make Geraldine feel special, so she answered, “Let me see. I’ll have to check the television schedule first.” Arriving at the dance, Elmer let the door swing shut in Geraldine’s face. She, in turn, left Elmer in an awkward situation when she huddled to talk with her girl friends and left him standing alone.
The situation may be a little farfetched, but the antics of Elmer and Geraldine doing all the wrong things on a date started a discussion on dating manners at a series of workshops held by the Ammon Stake in Idaho Falls, Idaho. The skit was a way of introducing a discussion on the subject, and the majority of the audience agreed that they are impressed by a polite girl or guy as a dating partner.

The heroic accounts of what these pioneer women sacrificed and accomplished as they crossed the plains is a priceless legacy to the Church. I am moved by the account of Elizabeth Jackson, whose husband Aaron died after the last crossing of the Platte River with the Martin handcart company. She wrote:
“I will not attempt to describe my feelings at finding myself thus left a widow with three children, under such excruciating circumstances. … I believe … that my sufferings for the Gospel’s sake will be sanctified unto me for my good. …
“I [appealed] to the Lord, … He who had promised to be a husband to the widow, and a father to the fatherless. I appealed to him and he came to my aid.”4
Elizabeth said she was writing the history on behalf of those who passed through like scenes with the hope that posterity would be willing to suffer and sacrifice all things for the kingdom of God.5

Grandma was 75 years old when she initiated a “12 days of Christmas” secret Santa project with her Sunday School class of 14-year-olds. “How would you like to do something nice for someone?” she asked. Each person in the class, including Grandma, would secretly take treats to Brother Johnson, who had recently lost his wife. “Sometimes,” Grandma had said, “people may feel alone and need service even if they are not poor.”
Brother Johnson’s house was set far back from the road, and there was a wrought iron fence surrounding the property. On the night of her first turn, Grandma parked down the street and stealthily crept up to the door. She placed the package, rang the bell, and suddenly realized she couldn’t run fast enough to get away. She quickly crouched behind the car and held her breath. Brother Johnson came to the door, picked up the package, and looked around.
He stepped out into the night to get a better look and came up to the car. Grandma slumped down behind the bumper, scarcely breathing. Brother Johnson gave up the search and went back into the house. Grandma was safe this time.
On the night of her second turn, she found the gates locked. Somewhat relieved that she wouldn’t need to crouch behind the car again, she hung the gift on the gate and returned home.
On the night of her third visit, we received a call. “Please,” she said, “would you come and help me deliver my secret Santa gift?” We accepted and started toward the house with the gift. We started to laugh when we saw how challenging this house was to approach.
In church that Sunday, Brother Johnson expressed his gratitude that the gifts had made him feel the love of the ward on his first Christmas alone. Grandma will always be our example of compassion and charity and has taught us that you’re never too old to serve.

Tony Harner, a priest from the West Shore Ward, Gettysburg Pennsylvania Stake, is a straight shooter. The 15-year-old convert of a year proved it by winning the overall title in the United States Junior Open Skeet shooting championships in Lordship, Connecticut. In that competition he hit 486 out of 500 targets, using four different guns. He followed up that triumph by taking first place in the second class 410-gauge competition at the World Skeet Championships in San Antonio, Texas.
Tony, who has been skeet shooting for only two years, entered ten registered shooting events between January and July of 1976 and won or placed in all but one of them. He defeated shooters from Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and Maryland to win his zone championship. He finished second in the Pennsylvania championship. He won the mid-American championship and was the champion of the first and second annual Mack Truck meets, among other accomplishments. Tony, who loads his own shells, has several times broken every target during a competition.
Tony has a strong testimony of the Church and feels that his knowledge of the gospel has contributed to his desire to excel in his sport. He recently put in many hours helping to landscape the West Shore Ward’s new chapel and has been eager to teach skeet shooting skills to other young men in the ward.

As a young girl, my grandmother Chasty Olsen Harris had a similar experience. She was tending some children who were playing in a dry riverbed near their home in Castle Dale, Utah. Suddenly she heard a voice that called her by name and directed her to get the children out of the riverbed and up on the bank. It was a clear day and there was no sign of rain. She saw no reason to heed the voice and continued to play. The voice spoke to her again, urgently. This time she heeded the warning. Quickly gathering the children, she made a run for the bank. Just as they reached it, an enormous wall of water, originating with a cloudburst in the mountains many miles away, swept down the canyon and roared across where the children had played. Except for this impelling revelation, she and the children would have been lost.

Shortly after President Boyd K. Packer, President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, was called as a General Authority, he went to Elder Harold B. Lee (1899–1973) for counsel. President Packer recalled:
“He listened very carefully to my problem and suggested that I see President David O. McKay [1873–1970]. President McKay counseled me as to the direction I should go. I was very willing to be obedient but saw no way possible for me to do as he counseled me to do.
“I returned to Elder Lee and told him that I saw no way to move in the direction I was counseled to go. He said, ‘The trouble with you is you want to see the end from the beginning.’ I replied that I would like to see at least a step or two ahead. Then came the lesson of a lifetime: ‘You must learn to walk to the edge of the light, and then a few steps into the darkness; then the light will appear and show the way before you.’”2

In Alaska, LDS teenagers who live in the towns of Wasilla, Palmer, and Eagle River look at the Anchorage Alaska Temple and know that something of theirs is safe inside. They were fortunate enough to be in the right place at the right time to make a promise, sign their names to it, then have those pledges sealed inside the cornerstone of the temple at the dedication.
The promise they signed was quite short. It said simply: “As I prepare for marriage and a mission, I will live the standards of worthiness for entrance into the house of the Lord.” It was a promise that many of them were willing to make, but now that the promise is literally encased in stone in the temple and sealed with mortar, these young people have taken it very seriously.
“This was a goal I had previously made,” says Katie Green of the Eagle River Second Ward, “but had never put on paper. When I was given the opportunity to do so, I jumped at it. I didn’t just sign it; I pondered it. To me a promise is a promise and cannot be broken, especially with our Father in Heaven. Living the standards of worthiness doesn’t mean just not crossing the line. It means that we must live as far away from that line as possible.”
For Amie Uscola of the Wasilla First Ward, making a promise like this one is very personal. “Having my name in the cornerstone of the temple is like an agreement on a personal basis with the Lord. It is like a possession of His, and if you broke it, it is more personal. I actually do think about it every time I come here.”
These teens are thrilled to have a temple so close to their hometowns. Before the Anchorage Alaska Temple was built, these teens only rarely, if ever, had the opportunity to travel to a temple. The trips were expensive and often a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Now they have many more opportunities to do baptisms and to go through the temple for their own endowments before leaving on missions or being married. Ryan Rampton of the Eagle River Second Ward said, “With something as sacred as doing temple ordinances, now I won’t have to go to another state. I can do it in the place I grew up. That actually means a lot to me.”
Having signed a pledge that is now permanently in the temple’s cornerstone makes coming to the temple even better. “The feelings I get whenever I enter the temple,” says ShaLene Grover of the Palmer First Ward, “make the desires of my heart stronger to be a better person. This makes a difference in my life, to always be worthy to go to the temple, so I can always feel the peace I feel when going there.”
Just exactly what can these teens do to keep the promise they signed?
Katie Green’s friends know she has standards that she lives. They even know about the For the Strength of Youth pamphlet that outlines and explains just what those standards are. And they like it that when they are with Katie, they have a friend who will help them be a little bit better instead of a little bit worse.
Attending Church meetings and seminary makes it easier. Christy Kendall of the Eagle River First Ward explained how she received an answer as to how she was supposed to act. “It was a lesson when I was a Mia Maid that said you need to make a decision now so that when evil things confront you, you will have a definite answer ready. From then on, For the Strength of Youth became my handbook. It wasn’t just words to me because now I knew that was how I needed to act. Those were my answers that I needed to say when confronted.”
And staying worthy of a temple recommend also prepares these young people to serve the Lord. “The promise I made with my Heavenly Father,” says Austin Wallace of the Eagle River Second Ward, “has influenced my life. I strive to live worthy to enter the temple. I know that if I am temple worthy I am also mission worthy.”
Austin has always followed the good examples set by his friends. He says, “My friends are still the people I look up to. Their testimonies shine through me because I’ve emulated them in all they’ve done.” Austin’s best friend is serving a full-time mission, and Austin is preparing to serve also. “I’ve just loved the Church so much. Now that I’ve seen the choices my friends have made, it’s part of my own personal choice to do the same.”
The Anchorage Alaska Temple is not large, but its light-gray granite walls catch the light. It’s easy to see from one of the main highways. Tim Miner of the Palmer First Ward sees the temple when he has to go that way to get to work. And he remembers his promise.
And Tisha Harman of the Wasilla Second Ward remembers her pledge. She even remembers where her name was among the dozens of other signatures on the sheet.
Dené Christensen of the Eagle River Second Ward says, “When you really think about it, having your name sealed in a cornerstone in the house of the Lord is just amazing. You don’t want to do anything wrong. You don’t want to tarnish or damage any part of that temple. Then I remember that my name’s in there.”
Even though these teens were the right age and at the right place to sign a pledge to remain worthy to enter the temple, Emerson Fry of the Palmer Second Ward reminds us all, “Whether or not you sign a paper, I hope that everyone makes the same promise to themselves and to God.”
“We committed ourselves to our Heavenly Father, that if He would send us to the earth and give us bodies and give to us the priceless opportunities that earth life afforded, we would keep our lives clean and would marry in the holy temple and would rear a family and teach them righteousness. This was a solemn oath, a solemn promise” (Salt Lake Institute of Religion Devotional, 10 Jan. 1975, 2).—President Spencer W. Kimball (1895–1985)
“Signing this promise was simply a unique way of recommitting ourselves on a more personal level, much like renewing covenants every Sunday in sacrament meeting. This promise offered me a new chance to recommit myself to the standards I may have faltered in obeying. It redefined the covenants I’ve made and gave me renewed purpose to become prepared to enter the temple, go on my mission, and get married.”—Ryan Rampton, 16, Eagle River Second Ward, Wasilla Alaska Stake
“I was able to sign the pledge that is placed in the cornerstone of the temple. By signing I was able to make a promise that I will always be worthy to enter the temple. Just to think that one day I will be able to enter the temple knowing that I have been worthy brings me joy and happiness.”—Crystal Eriksson, 17, Wasilla Second Ward, Wasilla Alaska Stake

One young convert named Fernando was inactive in his own church, but he had great faith in Jesus Christ. He sought out many churches and talked to many ministers but he could not find a church that could answer his most important questions, or fulfill his deepest needs. He finally became disillusioned with organized religions and stopped looking. Then one day he happened to see two sister missionaries teaching with a street board. The board featured a painting of Christ ordaining his apostles. Fernando, who was an amateur artist, liked the painting. The sister missionaries told him they had more paintings like that. They invited him to come to church and see them.

He came. It was testimony meeting, and he was touched by the testimonies, especially that of one sister who had just received her patriarchal blessing. “She bore a testimony of great love,” he later remembered.

He began receiving the discussions. “When I first started studying, I wanted to argue with the elders. I decided I would listen to their whole message, and then refute it all at once. But when I had heard their message, I found that my arguments were destroyed in advance. It really could be true, and if it was true, it was important. If God had really restored his church, then I had to be a part of it. They taught me many things that were hard, many things that would require a great sacrifice compared to the life I was then living. But if it was true, it didn’t matter how hard it was! I had a peaceful feeling about the message I had received. It was all true.”

But those hard things loomed larger and larger as baptism approached, and there were friends to scoff and problems to discourage Fernando. For a time he withdrew from his investigation and his contacts with the Church, even though he knew in his heart it was all true. One rainy night during that time of low spirits and temptation, he went to see a friend off on the train.

He helped her on with her bags and was saying good-bye when he felt the train begin to move. He ran to the door, but it was too late. Santiago de Compostela was rushing past him at a speed that made jumping suicidal.

He got off at the first stop—a dark, deserted station house without a human dwelling anywhere in sight. He walked many kilometers through a cold rain, totally soaked, up a mountain road and into a village. There he found a phone booth, the only shelter available. He entered the booth and phoned a friend who would have to walk many blocks to inform his parents of his plight. Then he took off most of his soaked clothing and stood shivering through the night. Since he had absolutely nothing else to do to pass the long hours, he began thinking seriously about the gospel. “I didn’t know what else to do, so I said a prayer, even though I was afraid I wasn’t worthy of an answer. I had tried to separate myself as far as I could from the Lord and his people.”

He spent the rest of the night praying, thinking, and reading from a small New Testament that he happened to have in his pocket. “During that time, my testimony returned to me. I felt dry and warm even though I was wet. Whenever I prayed for comfort, comfort came to me. The words came to me ‘All is well. Do not worry.’ But I’m afraid my rebelliousness made me unwilling to accept the answer. I asked again and again, although I knew I had already been answered. Then there was a sudden peal of thunder in the night. I had seen no lightning, nor had there been any thunder in the storm before. I felt it was a message; I was being told, ‘Be quiet. You already know the answer to your question.’

“I know that not everybody needs a clap of thunder, because some people are better listeners than I was. I know that a quiet sense of peace is just as meaningful an answer to prayer, but the Lord knew that I needed a night alone in a phone booth and a clap of thunder, and that’s just what he gave me. Every person receives the testimony he needs if he asks sincerely.”

Fernando finally got out of the phone booth, got home again, and dried off, but not long thereafter he was once more soaking wet as he rose from the waters of baptism. But he felt warm, as he had in the phone booth, and this time he knew he was truly at home.

“Baptism wasn’t the end but the entrance,” Fernando says. “I want much more. I was 15 when I was converted. Since then I have had more love for everyone—my father, my mother, my friends, everyone!

“At first I was afraid that my friends would laugh at me when they found out I was LDS, and some of them did. My best friend rejected me. My whole family was angry with me. But I am not ashamed of the gospel. I make sure everyone knows I am a Mormon. I give them copies of the Book of Mormon and bear my testimony. The blessings are much greater than the pain of rejection. Whenever I have a problem, I pray, and it is like plugging in an electric plug. The Lord may not solve the problem for me, but he lets me know what I need to do to solve it for myself, and that’s all I ask.

“I have a testimony that I won’t let be broken. This is the true Church, and I mean to magnify my callings. I am excited about fulfilling a proselyting mission as well as my larger mission in life. I will soon receive the Melchizedek Priesthood, and I feel very inadequate. I know that it is a solemn obligation to accept the greatest power on earth. I hope I won’t ever fail to honor it.”

At times, when you are being led to the rescue, it may seem accidental.

Once, I simply asked someone I met on a trip, “Would you tell me a little about your family?” The conversation led me to ask to see a picture of her adult daughter, who she said was struggling. I was struck with the goodness in the face of that girl in the picture. I felt impressed to ask if I could have her email address. The daughter was at that moment lost and wondering if God had any message for her. He did. It was this: “The Lord loves you. He always has. The Lord wants you to come back. Your promised blessings are still in place.”

President Uchtdorf met his future wife, Harriet Reich, as they attended meetings of the Church’s Mutual Improvement Association. Harriet was baptized when she was nearly 13 years of age, along with her mother and her sister, after missionaries knocked on their door and taught them the gospel. Harriet’s father had died from cancer just eight months earlier. Her mother and her sister have since passed away.
A remarkable reward came to one of those missionaries, Elder Gary Jenkins, who had taught and baptized the Reich family. What a joyful day it was for him, decades later, when on February 16, 2008, his granddaughter, Crystal, was sealed to her husband, Steven, in the Salt Lake Temple by a member of the First Presidency, President Dieter F. Uchtdorf.

In 2009 I was in Washington D.C. with the world foundations teaching team visiting sites and learning things related to our curriculum. We attended Easter Mass at the Cathedral of Saint Matthew the Apostle. Later in the day we returned to the cathedral to take a closer look at the interior and to have a chance to take some pictures at the invitation of the clergy there. As I was standing in the nave admiring the beautiful and symbolic artwork behind the altar, I noticed a woman entering who looked very troubled, even distraught. She humbly knelt between the pews in prayer for quite a long time and then proceeded to one of the confessional booths with tears flowing from her eyes where she was attended by a priest. Sometime later, she and he emerged. She had a look of great relief as if a heavy burden had been lifted. The priest embraced her and they spoke for several minutes outside the confessional. The love and care of the priest for her was very apparent. As I watched this scene from across the cathedral I felt an overwhelming impression from the Spirit that this woman was an example of true repentance and that the priest was an example of true forgiveness and love. I learned a deep lesson about humble repentance, forgiveness, and love from a Catholic parishioner and her priest.

But in trying for balance, Scott has discovered he needs to set priorities. A year or so ago, he was playing several sports, going to school and seminary, taking music lessons, spending time with friends. “I was thinking of quitting hockey,” he says. “I wasn’t happy, and it took up so much of my time. I realized if I wanted to play hockey I had to give up some of the other stuff.” He decided to put aside other sports and his guitar for a while. The NHL, the crowds, the excitement—it’s a hard dream to let die.

Romero had been looking forward to this day for a very long time. This was the day his mother and he had planned on going to the park. But that morning his mother had been called away to help a neighbor who was very ill. When she left, she promised Romero that they would still go to the park when she returned if he would do some of the household chores while she was gone. Romero told her that he would.
After his mother left, Romero started to do the things she had asked him to do. Then his friend José came by and wanted to play. Romero remembered what his mother had asked him to do and her promise that they would go to the park if he was obedient. He told José that he couldn’t play just then because he had work to do. José went home, and Romero hurried to finish the chores. When his mother came home, she was happy to see that he had done what she had asked. Because he had, she kept her promise and together they spent the afternoon at the park.

While I waited for the outward sign that never came, my mind and heart were full of poignant memories. I remembered how proud Dad and I had both been on the day when we met with our priesthood leaders in the stake president’s office. I remembered the strength I felt in the hands as they joined in a circle around me as my father ordained me an elder after the order of Melchizedek.
“Well, Elder Rick,” they said to me afterward as they enthusiastically shook my hand, “we know that you are going to be a terrific missionary.”
As I shook my father’s hand and looked into his misty eyes, I knew that he was also sure that I would be successful.
That memory faded and was replaced with the “D” discussion I had preprogrammed myself to study. The details of the plan of salvation ran through my mind as the tears slowly dried on my cheeks.
I reviewed the premortal existence and the council of heaven and realized for the first time that my father must have been there. I knew my dad had been born to receive a body, like everybody else, and had obeyed the Lord’s commandments to the best of his ability like we all must. He was always the most selfless man I had ever known, and even though he wasn’t the most verbal individual, we always knew by the things he did that he loved Mom and us more than he could say.
Nobody enjoyed being home with his family more than my dad. About the only thing Dad would let take him away from his family was the gospel he loved so much. Few people had served in as many different capacities in the Church as my dad. I knew that he had successfully honored his first and second estates, and could surely expect a promising future with our Heavenly Father.
I tried to imagine my dad’s reunion with his earthly parents and little sister who had died over 50 years ago. It wasn’t hard to picture Uncle Lew and Uncle Vic also waiting with open arms to welcome Dad to his next field of labor, almost like a transfer in the mission field.
These thoughts brought a smile to my heart as I continued to gaze out that tiny kitchen window. I knew I didn’t have to worry about what was in store for my dad.
What about Mom, though? They had been married nearly 40 years. What would she do without him?
My stomach tightened nervously until I remembered that this was the week of the Klomp family reunion in Panaca, Nevada. All four of my older brothers and sisters and their families would be there with Mom to help her through this difficult time. She would be comforted by her children as she so often had comforted each of us. It seemed terribly fair somehow. I realized also that Mom was not a weak, ignorant, or faithless woman. She had helped me gain a better understanding of and love for the gospel of Jesus Christ and would certainly take strength from that same fountain of truth.
I don’t know how long I stood at that window, but I do remember being stiff as my eyelids began to droop again with fatigue. I stretched, still staring out the window, hoping to see something, anything which would show me that everything was all right. It wasn’t until later that I realized that my “sign” had come in the form of the Spirit speaking peace to my heart, calming my fears, and warming me with the love of a faraway family and a God who was very near.
When I finally pulled myself away from the window, I wondered whether or not I should return home, leaving my mission only half served. I remembered scriptures about putting your hand to the plow and then turning away or loving father and mother more than the Savior. I felt confident that Dad would have wanted me to stay and finish the work I had been given to do, but decided that if Mom needed me, I would go home to help her.
I kept the whole thing pretty much to myself the next day and was determined not to let it affect the work. Actually it still didn’t seem real. It seemed like a hazy dream. But I still made plans to make the phone call to my family.
After a busy morning and a quick lunch, we pedaled to the post office so I could make the call. I waited anxiously in the long-distance line. When my turn finally came, I gave the man behind the desk the right phone number, and he directed me to the appropriate plexiglass phone booth in the center of the building.
“Hello, Nancy, can you hear me?” I said when the connection was made.
“Yes, Rick. I’m so glad you were able to call. We’re all here taking good care of Mama and we want you to know that everything is fine. She wants you to do what you think is right.”
After speaking to Mom and some of the rest of the family and hearing that Dad had seemed really fulfilled and happy to have almost all his family around before he died, I knew that I wasn’t really needed at home. I was needed in Germany to do the work a prophet of God had assigned me to do. The still, small voice comforted me, and I was able to complete the second half of my mission in a way that honored my beliefs, my family, and most of all, my dad. He had endured, faithful to the end, and taught me to do the same. Did he ever quit or give up before he finished an assignment? Not my dad!

I underwent an operation on September 24, 2018, and had many people by my side taking care of me. A few days after the operation and being discharged, while at home, I felt a lot of fever inside me. I visited the clinic again, and after several tests, they found that during the surgery to remove the colon tumor, they had left a small hole causing the fever. I developed sepsis because no hole was supposed to remain after the operation. I had to stay in the clinic for one more week.
On the third day of being hospitalized, I felt extremely sad. I prayed to Heavenly Father and asked many questions. After finishing my prayer and shedding many tears, there was a knock on the door of my room, and to my surprise, it was the two missionaries who were attending my ward at that time. Seeing me crying, they prayed with and encouraged me. I told them about the prayer I had made and how the Lord had sent these two messengers to me.
Thanks to my Heavenly Father, I overcame the sepsis and moved on to the next stage, which, although difficult, was a true miracle. I had to undergo chemotherapy, and when I received the first treatment, I suffered another health setback. A port was inserted to administer the chemotherapy, and the doctor who placed it put it in too high, causing me to have four embolisms and two pulmonary infarctions. My oncologist couldn’t explain how I had survived the embolisms and infarctions. I told her that I believed God was keeping me alive because I still had important work to do for Him.

Third, and this is so significant: listen. In particular, President Packer encourages us to listen to those who are experienced: “I learned early on that there is great value in listening to experience in older people. … I remember in the Quorum of the Twelve, LeGrand Richards didn’t walk as fast as the other Brethren, and I would always wait and open the door for him and walk back to the building with him. One day one of the Brethren said, ‘Oh, you’re so kind to take care of Brother Richards.’ And I thought, ‘You don’t know my selfish motive’—as we would walk back, I would just listen to him. I knew that he could remember Wilford Woodruff, and he would speak.”3

I was sixteen when the missionaries challenged me to study the Book of Mormon. As I read it, I felt it was a good book. So when the missionaries asked me to be baptized, I did so. I joined the Church not because I had gained a strong testimony, but because I had not had any bad or unpeaceful feelings while reading the Book of Mormon or attending Church. It seemed that I accepted the gospel naturally.
But some time after I had joined the Church, I began to worry that perhaps I should not have joined a “Western” church. During this time, I did not have the courage to tell any of my friends that I was a Latter-day Saint. In fact, I covered my Book of Mormon with a piece of white paper so that no one would know what I was reading.
Finally I decided to find out for myself whether or not the Book of Mormon is true. As I was reading and praying one day, I came to this passage:
“And no tongue can speak, neither can there be written by any man, neither can the hearts of men conceive so great and marvelous things as we both saw and heard Jesus speak; and no one can conceive of the joy which filled our souls at the time we heard him pray for us unto the Father.
“And it came to pass that when Jesus had made an end of praying unto the Father, he arose; but so great was the joy of the multitude that they were overcome.
“And it came to pass that Jesus spake unto them, and bade them arise.
“And they arose from the earth, and he said unto them: Blessed are ye because of your faith. And now behold, my joy is full.
“And when he had said these words, he wept. …” (3 Ne. 17:17–22.)
As I read these words, I started to cry. My heart was filled with the great love the Lord has for me. I cried in my heart, “O my Lord. I know thou livest. I know the Book of Mormon is true.”
Now I knew that the Church is a universal church. Joyfully, I took the white cover off my Book of Mormon.
At about this time, I also received the strong impression that I should become a full-time missionary. After serving two years in the Navy, I was able to get my parents’ permission to serve a mission. There I had the privilege to testify of the Book of Mormon, of which I was once ashamed, and to proclaim the gospel in my own language. My mission widened my understanding of the gospel and deepened my testimony of the restored truth.
My wife and I were married in the temple. We began to read the Book of Mormon together while we were dating. We now have three children. We feel that the Book of Mormon has changed our lives completely, for, as it is written, “The preaching of the word [has] a great tendency to lead the people to do that which [is] just—yea, it [has] more powerful effect upon the minds of people than the sword, or anything else. …” (Alma 31:5.)

Shelley and I began buying basic foods for our home storage in January 1977 and continued to purchase bit by bit until we were married in April of that year. Prior to our wedding, we stored the food at my parents’ home.
Shelley wore the leather band as a wedding ring for a long time while I finished undergraduate studies and then dental school. Over the course of pursuing education, our family moved many times. We became accustomed to lugging buckets of wheat from apartment to apartment, house to house, and city to city. Our friends started to avoid us every time we moved, but in later years, we felt profound gratitude for having followed the counsel of Church leaders.
When I graduated from dental school and began a dental practice, Shelley and I had two children and literally no funds. Gratefully, we were able to live on part of what we had acquired in food storage just before our marriage. Our obedience to prophetic counsel blessed our lives again more than a decade after we were married, when I had completed more schooling and was in an orthodontic residency. We were again out of money, and instead of paying for groceries with credit cards or borrowed funds, we were blessed to be able to feed our family (which now included four children) from our supply.

Many years later, when I was grown up and had my own family, we heard the message of the gospel of Jesus Christ when the missionaries knocked on our door. There was something in these missionaries—a glow of trust, a glow of hope, a glow of security, and a glow of love—that looked in the beginning to us like a fairy tale.
Could it be true? Could it really be true that we are all children of a loving Heavenly Father and that through the Spirit of Jesus Christ I could come to an understanding of the feelings I had had at Christmastime in my childhood? Because this door opened, the understanding that led to our conversion and baptism helped us see that we could experience Christmas every day when we focus always on Him, listen to Him, and embrace Him with a loving, grateful heart. What joy came to my family when we opened our souls to the light of the gospel of Jesus Christ!