Gospel Story Finder

It was preparation day on my mission in Yamoussoukro, Cote d’Ivoire, a small country in West Africa.
At about 11 o’clock in the morning, I had the feeling that my companion and I should go out, without really knowing in advance where we would go. I suggested that we go, and he agreed without hesitation. A few minutes later, we were out in the street. We walked as if we were being guided by someone and went straight to a particular residence. I rang the doorbell and a young girl answered the door. I said to her, “Tell your mother the missionaries are here.”
The mother came out to greet us. She was in tears and said, “Three days ago, I prayed and asked God to send me missionaries, and now here you are.”
This mother was able to find peace in her life through hearing the message of the restored gospel. That day, I received the confirmation that God guides His servants.

Pocahontas, the beautiful Indian princess, was excited as she waited for her carriage. She and her husband, John Rolfe, were in England. It was Christmas, and they were going to a Christmas party at Windsor Castle. Pocahontas wondered if the lords and ladies would like her.
She was dressed in a red silk dress covered with a velvet cape. The freshwater pearls that her father had given her when she was married in Virginia circled her neck. “Do I look all right?” she asked her husband.
“You are the most beautiful princess in the world!” he told her. His smile was tender.
“But will the lords and ladies like me?” she asked.
“Don’t forget,” he reminded her, “that you, too, are a lady, now that His Majesty has given you the title Lady Rebecca. You, too, are of the court, and they will respect you for that. And they will like you because you are a dear person.”
The carriage stopped, and the gates of Windsor Castle were flung open. The carriage went on a short distance, then rocked to another stop. The footman opened the carriage door and held out his hand to assist Lady Rebecca.
Inside the castle the rooms glowed with thousands of candle flames in crystal chandeliers. Everyone was dressed in silks and laces.
As Pocahontas stood in the entryway with John, she heard two ladies whispering behind their fans. Perhaps they do not realize that their voices carry in this great hall as voices sometimes carry in my beloved forest in Virginia, thought Pocahontas. She heard the lady in lavender ask, “Who is she?”
“She’s an Indian princess from Virginia,” answered the lady in blue, “and her father is Powhatan, chief of the confederation of Algonquin tribes.”
“She is beautiful! So delicately formed!” remarked the first lady.
“She saved Captain John Smith’s life when he was founding the Jamestown colony back in 1607,” continued the lady in blue.
“Oh, she’s the Indian maiden who brought food to the starving settlers,” said the lady in lavender, nodding her head. “We’ve heard all about that and are thankful to her.”
“She learned to read and write English and was converted to Christianity,” added the lady in blue.
“Yes, indeed!” said the lady in lavender. “I’ve heard that she has a fine mind. Why she can even read complicated maps!”
At that moment John Rolfe nodded to Pocahontas that they were about to enter the throne room to bow to and greet the royal couple.
As Pocahontas took her husband’s arm, she said in a low-pitched voice, “I am happy tonight, John. People say kind things of me.”
John Rolfe smiled back at the beautiful Indian princess at his side as they walked together toward the throne of King James and Queen Anne of England.

Later, when through the missionary effort I joined the Church, I gained as a new member that peaceful feeling of being safely placed in the environment of true gospel living and that Babylon had floated away from me. As it was expressed by an early European balloonist: “I felt as though I had left behind me, all the cares and passions that molest mankind.”
I testify—as one who twenty-three years ago was baptized into the kingdom of God in Toronto, Canada—that my flight since my baptism has been a magnificent one, with breathtaking scenes and spiritual panoramas and with the never-failing knowledge that my day-to-day flight plan is made available to me by an understanding, loving, forgiving Heavenly Father.

“I didn’t go to the same seventh and eighth grade that all the people in my neighborhood and ward did, but I transferred back during my freshman year in high school. I had a hard time fitting in because they were all together and I was all alone.”
Another part of creativity is recognizing what abilities you truly do have. Not all talents involve being able to perform in front of others. For example, remember how Ivey talked about having a tough time fitting in at a new school?
“There was a girl in one of my classes that I didn’t know at all,” Ivey explains. “One day she said hi to me. I found out her name. We would see each other in the halls. She would ask me how I was doing or help me understand my homework. She was really nice and genuinely interested. She tried to learn a little about me. She invited me to a basketball game. I started going with her friends and integrated into that group. Because of what she did for me, I developed confidence. She had a talent for reaching out.”

I should like to share portions of a letter that came to my desk several years ago. I have changed the names to preserve anonymity and have somewhat abbreviated it, paraphrasing a few words in the process. The letter reads:
“Dear President Hinckley,
“When I met you in the elevator at the hospital I had the urge to write you and tell you of some of the things that have happened to me.
“When I was 16 or 17 I cared nothing for the Church and would not have anything to do with it. But a bishop who was concerned about me came over to see me and asked me to help build some scenery for a road show production, and of course I told him no.
“Well, about 10 days went by, and the bishop came back to ask me to build the scenery, and again I told him no. But then he went on to explain that he had asked others, and they had told him that they didn’t know how. He indicated that I was needed. I finally gave in and proceeded to build the scenery.
“When I got it done, I said, ‘There is your scenery,’ and decided I had done my part. But the bishop insisted that they needed me on the stage to move the scenery and make sure it got put up right and that it got moved carefully as the road show moved from ward to ward. So I finally gave in again.
“That bishop kept me busy for quite a while, and pretty soon I was involved and enjoying it. He then moved from our area, and we got a new bishop, and he picked up the challenge and kept after me.
“Bishop Smith had asked me to go on a mission, but I was undecided on that, and when Bishop Sorensen was put in, he asked me also, and I finally decided that I would go.
“Well, the bishop and I went to tell Mom and Dad about my decision. They told the bishop they couldn’t pay for it. Dad told the bishop that if I was really sincere about going that I should work and save and pay for the mission myself.
“My eyesight was not the greatest, as you know, and when I went places I had to be taken. When I became 16, I wanted to drive a car more than anything, and Dad took me to several eye doctors, all with the same result. The vision in my right eye was 20/800, and the vision in my left eye was 20/50, and I had astigmatism. So earning enough money to go on a mission was not an easy task. I worked in the sign shop at a department store for six to eight months to save some money. The bishop finally felt it was time for me to go, and we went to talk to my parents again. I had a thousand dollars saved, and the bishop told my dad that the elders quorum would support me for the rest. Dad sat there for a while and said if anybody was going to support his son, he would. I filled out my papers and got my call.
“I went to Japan, where I loved the people and the missionary experiences that I had there. My companions and I baptized several people into the Church. After I came home, I went to work again in the sign shop. During the time I worked there, whenever I went to lunch, I would see a young lady walking up the street, who evidently worked in the same general area. I knew I had met her somewhere before but could not place her.
“Well, one of my missionary companions came home, and after some time we ran around together. Of course, he did all the chauffeuring because of my eyesight. One night he called and wanted to go out on a double date, and so I frantically called around to find a date. Well, we went to a party, and guess who he took out. Right, he took out Sister Marilyn Jones, who also had been in Japan and whom I now remembered meeting briefly there on one occasion. She was the girl I had been passing on the street for several months and had not recognized.
“After this party, I went to California with my family for two weeks, and when I got home I found that my missionary friend had been dating the girl I had taken to the party. I thought I’d fix him, so I called Marilyn to go out on a date. You have to realize that it’s not easy to do that when you don’t drive, so my younger sister drove, and we had eight other youngsters accompany us to a ball game. That should have been enough to discourage any young lady from ever dating me again, but I tried again when my family went to the canyon to pick chokecherries.
“Finally came our date alone, and Dad had to drive me to pick up Marilyn, and then we drove him home and went out on our date and then back to our house to pick up Dad, who drove us back to her house, and then we went home. On the next date I asked her to marry me, and she told me no. Well, I went out with her some more and asked her to marry me a couple more times, and I finally got a maybe. I thought that was a step in the right direction and persisted. Six months after we started going together, we were married in the Salt Lake Temple.
“President Hinckley, I thought that I loved this young lady at that time, but 17 years later I find that I love her more than I could ever imagine. We now have five wonderful children.
“I have held many positions in the Church: music leader, everything in the elders quorum, assistant ward clerk, ward mission leader, executive secretary, and now I am a counselor in the bishopric.
“I am still working in the sign shop at the department store. I bought a small house about 13 years ago, and as my family got larger my house got smaller. I had to do something, so I added on to my house and made it twice the size. I started this a little over three years ago and have been working on it ever since. It is coming along really well.
“Now for the most amazing piece of news ever. Two years ago in June, I went to a new eye doctor who examined my eyes and asked me what restrictions I had on my driver’s license. I told him that I didn’t have a license. He said that my eyesight was probably acceptable.
“I sat there in shock, and my wife said, ‘Does this mean he could get a driver’s license?’ The doctor said, ‘I don’t see why not.’ The next day my wife had me signed up for a driver education course, and after I finished it I went to get my license and they checked my eyes. The doctor had written a note explaining my eye problem and that maybe I should not drive at night. The examiner put the letters up, and I read them right off. He went to talk to his supervisor and came back and approved my license with only a minor restriction.
“President Hinckley, the Lord has blessed me more than I can ever deserve. People say how lucky I am that my eyes have improved so much, but I know that it is the Lord’s doing. I feel it is because I have tried to serve the Lord and do what I can to build up His kingdom here on the earth. I am sure there are times He is disappointed in me, and I’m sure He should be. But I will try to do my best and be worthy of His blessings upon me and my family.”
He concludes with appreciation and testimony and signs his name. I have shared this somewhat lengthy letter because I feel it tells so simply and yet so eloquently what this work is all about.
If you will recall what I have just shared, this man, when he was a boy of 16 or 17, was drifting aimlessly and dangerously as so many young men do at that age. He was walking the broad way which leads to destruction. Noting the course he was taking, his bishop, a prayerful and dedicated man, recognized his creative talent as an artist and found a way to challenge him to use that talent in the service of the Church. That bishop was wise enough to know that most young men will respond to a challenge when they know they are needed. No one else in the ward was quite capable of building the kind of scenery the bishop wanted. This less-active boy was capable of this, and the bishop complimented and challenged him with a request that his service was needed.
Here is a great key to activation of many of those who have fallen by the wayside. Each has a talent that can be employed. It is the task of leaders to match those talents with needs and then to offer a challenge. The boy of this letter, whom I shall call Jack, responded, and he soon found himself moving in the direction of the Church rather than away from it.
Then came the challenge to go on a mission. Jack, who was now accustomed to saying yes rather than no, responded affirmatively. The father was not fully converted and responded that his son would have to earn his own funds. That was not all bad. There was something of good in the requirement that he develop self-reliance. He went to work, he provided much of what he needed, he saved his money, and when he had a thousand dollars, the bishop, again under inspiration, felt the time had come when he should go. Jack’s brethren in the elders quorum would assist, and that is proper. But the father, with an awakened sense of pride and of responsibility toward his own son, rose to the occasion, as men usually do when properly confronted.
I first met Jack in Japan when he was serving as a missionary there. I interviewed him on two or three occasions. That was before we had the Missionary Training Centers. Young men and women were then sent with no language training and simply plunged in to work at the task when they arrived there. I marveled that this young man, with serious eyesight deficiencies, was able to grasp that difficult language and speak it with power. Behind that was a great effort and a great sense of devotion, and above all, a certain humility and reliance on the Lord with anxious, prayerful pleadings for help.
I can tell you, for I witnessed it, that it was a miracle in his case as it was in the case of many others.
I also first met in Japan and interviewed on a number of occasions the young lady he was later to marry. She had a wonderful spirit, a deep faith, and a moving sense of duty. Their acquaintance in the field was nothing more than having seen one another on one occasion. They worked in widely separated areas. But out of their experiences had come a common touchstone—a new language in which each had learned to share testimony with others while laboring in the great and selfless cause of service to our Father’s children.
As he indicated in his letter, their marriage was performed in the Salt Lake Temple. Each knew that only in the Lord’s house under the authority of the holy priesthood could they be joined in marriage for time and for all eternity under a covenant which death could not break and time could not destroy. They wanted the very best for themselves; they would not be satisfied with anything else. Be it said to their credit that each has remained true to the sacred covenants they made in the house of the Lord.
Five beautiful and handsome children have graced that marriage. They are a family with love and appreciation and respect one for another. They have lived in a spirit of self-reliance. A small home which has been enlarged is a home in which father and mother and children gather together and counsel and learn one from another. It is a home in which there is a reading of the scriptures. It is a home in which there is prayer: family prayer and individual prayer. It is a home in which service is taught and exemplified. It is a simple home; it is an unostentatious family. There is not much of wealth, but there is much of peace and goodness and love. The children who grew up there grew “in the nurture and admonition of the Lord” (Eph. 6:4). The father is faithful in his service to the Church. For these many years he has responded to every call made upon him; the mother, likewise. They are good citizens of the community and the nation. They are at peace with their neighbors. They love the Lord. They love life. They love one another.
They have witnessed a miracle in the improvement of his eyesight. To a kind and gracious God goes the credit. This too is of the essence of the gospel, the power of healing and restoration, followed by acknowledgment and thanksgiving.
I do not know whether the two men who served as Jack’s bishops know what has become of him. If they know where he is, there must be sweet satisfaction in their hearts.

In many ways, Ricardo has already begun his missionary service. “He was an example to me because he always went to church,” says Ricardo’s grandmother, Mavila Ruiz Cárdenas. For several years she had listened to the missionaries who came to visit with the family. And all the while Ricardo was there: sitting in and listening to the discussions, faithfully attending church each Sunday, even teaching his grandmother the hymns.
When he was eight years old and attending church by himself, he had not felt prepared for baptism. But, says Ricardo, “when my grandmother said she was ready to be baptized, then I was sure I was ready also.” So when Ricardo was 10, he and his grandmother were baptized on the same day.
No longer does Ricardo walk to church alone. Now every Sunday he puts on his shirt and tie, takes his grandmother by the hand, and they walk together. Who knows? In time, Ricardo will probably be leading others to church with him.

Let me share with you an example of the results of daily determination and performance.
In 1960 the Olympics were held in Melbourne, Australia. There on the winner’s platform in the spotlight one day stood a beautiful, tall, blonde American girl. She was being presented a gold medal, symbolic of first place in worldwide competition. As she stood there, some boys whistled and others were heard to say, “There’s a gal who has everything.”
Tears ran down her cheeks as she accepted the recognition. Many thought she was touched by the victory ceremony. The thing most of the audience did not know was the story of her determination, self-discipline, and daily action. At the age of five she had polio. When the disease left her body, she couldn’t use her arms or legs. Her parents took her daily to a swimming pool where they hoped the water would help hold her arms up as she tried to use them again. When she could lift her arm out of the water with her own power, she cried for joy. Then her goal was to swim the width of the pool, then the length, then several lengths. She kept on trying, swimming, enduring, day after day after day, until she won the gold medal for the butterfly stroke—one of the most difficult of all swimming strokes—in Melbourne, Australia.
What if Shelly Mann had not been encouraged to achieve at age five and to continue and overcome? What a tremendous asset were parents who assisted her in the importance of now and today in preparation for tomorrow.

About 18 years ago on Christmas Eve, I was a young mother very painfully aware of the wide gap between my household reality and what I thought the ideal Christmas looked like—the ideal Christmas as portrayed on television and in magazines, the Christmas of beautiful decor, exquisite meals, and happy, smiling children. I had tried hard to finish wrapping and cleaning, all the while attempting to achieve some order and peace in my home as I cared for my three little sons, one of whom was a very cranky baby. There was a heavy feeling weighing me down that night—I was overwhelmed.
It was starting to get dark. I had the baby in the highchair, trying to feed him and get him settled. Dinnertime was fast approaching, and there was no candlelit table, no warm feast, nothing ready on the stove. Just then my husband, who had been out doing some last-minute shopping, walked into the kitchen and placed on the counter a bag of pancake mix, some frozen orange juice, and a package of sausage. In his own way, he was telling me that he knew I was at the end of my rope and, if worse came to worst, he was prepared to make our Christmas Eve dinner.
And so that Christmas Eve, our family shared breakfast. I don’t remember how it tasted, but I remember how it felt to be loved and understood. From then on, breakfast has always been our Christmas Eve fare. Our children probably don’t understand its significance; nevertheless, breakfast is our tradition and it stands fast.
The small act of service my husband performed for me that Christmas Eve so long ago may seem insignificant, but it taught me that through small and thoughtful acts in the midst of the mundane, our lives can be changed. Through our own and others’ selfless service, the Spirit can work in our hearts and Christ can enter our lives, which is what this season is all about. Perhaps decor sets the stage, but love and service are at the very heart of Christmas.

President Charles W. Penrose used to tell the story of an officer on the Titanic who stated that there was no fear of “God, man or devil,” because the Titanic was built so solidly that it could readily withstand collision with other ships or contact with any other force, including icebergs. The Titanic was in fact three football fields in length, 12 stories high, and built of the finest steel. On that fateful night of April 14, 1912, other ships warned of ice ahead. Yet the Titanic continued to increase her speed, cutting through the cold Atlantic Ocean. By the time the lookouts sighted the iceberg, it was too late. The Titanic could not turn out of its way in time, and the iceberg scraped along the starboard side of the ship, creating a series of punctures. Two hours and 40 minutes later the brand-new Titanic sank to the bottom of the ocean. Over 1,500 people were drowned.

Usually one-eighth of an iceberg is above the waterline. The ice in the cold core is very compact, and keeps seven-eighths of the iceberg under water. As it was when the Titanic encountered the iceberg, so it is with us. We can often only see part of the danger that lies ahead.

It was New Year’s Day, and a snowstorm had just blanketed the small mountain town of Estes Park, Colorado, where I lived. Filled with the excitement of the holiday season, my older brother, Roger, and I had gone outside to play in a field near our home. A little lake where we had played on the ice many times before now lay underneath a fresh mantle of snow, flat and absolutely flawless.
No one worried about the lake being unsafe at that time of year—we lived at such a high altitude that the cold weather generally insured that small lakes would be frozen. But as we were playing, Roger suddenly fell through a soft spot in the ice. I was only six years old, and I didn’t know what to do. I could see no sticks around to pull him out with; everything was covered by snow. His heavy clothing soon pulled him under the water.
I ran all the way home through the deep snow, over a mile, to get my father. We drove back to the lake, and he dove through the ice and somehow found my brother. He tried to revive him, but by that time Roger had drowned.
That experience left me with several feelings. First, I saw the strength of the gospel in my parents’ lives. We were the only members of the Church in our community. Everyone rallied around my parents to give them support and comfort, but I think that the whole community gained more comfort and understanding by watching how a knowledge of the gospel helped my family handle that very difficult situation.
Years later, after I had a family of my own, my wife’s mother heard a caller in a radio talk show describe how he had watched a young family that had lost a son in a drowning accident. He didn’t mention the names of my parents, but the accident had occurred in Estes Park. It was obvious of whom he was speaking. He said it had taught him a great lesson about the strength of that family and the principles that guided their lives. Even then, about twenty-five years after the accident, my parents’ conduct continued to influence others.
Second, I learned about the purpose of this mortal experience. We come to earth to gain a body. Some of us are going to live on the earth a shorter time than others. When you’re literally side by side with your brother, and he goes through the ice and drowns and you don’t, it gives you a whole different way of thinking about life. It could have just as easily been me that drowned. But I’ve always felt that my brother’s mission here on earth had been completed and that he was just “called home” at an earlier age than most of us. But being the one who was allowed to remain, it was important to live as well as I could so that not only Heavenly Father but also my brother would be pleased with my actions.
Third, I learned a great deal from the courage exhibited by my father. He risked his life to break through that ice and dive underneath it to try to rescue his ten-year-old son. It was an immediate response; he did what he felt he needed to do. He showed great love, courage, and strength of character.
Mortality is significant, but it is a very small part of our eternal existence, I learned that lesson then too. I also learned to appreciate that through the ordinances and covenants of the temple our family relationships truly can be eternal.
There’s always another side to tragedy, and that side is one of greater understanding of the purpose of life. I know that Heavenly Father provides special comfort to family and friends who go through painful experiences, as He did with my family. It was a time when Heavenly Father was particularly close to us. And He will be close to you in times of difficulty if you call on Him in prayer.

President Payne tries to explain just what it is that makes the youth of the Aberdeen stake so special. They go to church and to activities; they attend seminary; they strive to live the gospel. It’s what the youth in every other stake he’s lived in are also doing.

“Then I moved to the Aberdeen stake, and I went on my first temple trip,” he says. “Now it’s something I plan my whole year around. And the reason I do is because I see what happens to our youth. I believe this temple trip is what keeps the Spirit in the lives of these youth. They talk all year long about the temple trip. We ask them, ‘Are you going on the temple trip?’ And they say, ‘I wouldn’t miss it for the world.’

“Going to the temple—standing in that holy place—changes them. Not just for that day or for that moment, not for that hour or that week. It changes them forever.”

When my grandpa became sick, I travelled to Antsirabe to be with him. The missionaries visited his home several times. Grandpa and I were not members of the Church, but he liked visiting with the missionaries. One night, they gave grandpa a blessing, and after a family home evening, they handed us the Book of Mormon.
“Please read this book and ask God if it is true,” they said.
When I returned to Sarodroa, I didn’t want to read the Book of Mormon because I thought it was not true. Then, one day I became so sick that I was stuck in my house for several days. As I looked for something to do, I found the Book of Mormon and started to read.
Later, I returned to Antsirabe and met the missionaries. They taught me more about the Book of Mormon and about the Prophet Joseph Smith. I told them that we didn’t need prophets and that there was no prophet today. The missionaries asked me to pray to God and ask if there is a prophet now. They promised that God would answer me. I prayed and felt that what the missionaries said was true.
I wanted to attend church, but I had no money for the bus. I talked to my friend, Razafindravaonasolo, and she said we could ride my bike. We rode two hours one way from Sarodroa to Antsirabe every Sunday. When I would get tired of pedaling, I would ride on the back and she would start pedaling. Then when she got tired, we would switch places again.
Eventually, Razafindravaonasolo’s family and I joined the Church. We attended church in Antsirabe until a branch opened in Sarodroa. We were so happy when we could attend church in our own village!
Razafindravaonasolo’s father was called as the branch president. One day he met with me and encouraged me to prepare for a mission. I didn’t think I could serve, but he reassured me that I could. I accepted the call to serve in the Madagascar Antananarivo Mission. I am married now and I have two kids. I am grateful for my family, and I have had more experiences than I can share that have helped me know that this Church is true.

My Grandfather Rose was very ill due to heart problems. To help my grandmother with his care, our family decided that we would take turns sleeping over to help out. Mostly it was my mother and my aunts, but one weekend I asked if I could spend the night.
I was reclining in a chair next to my grandfather’s bed. He was sleeping really well that night, which was unusual. While I was falling asleep, my granddad rolled over and said, “Carl, shape up.” Then he rolled back over and went to sleep.
I didn’t know what he meant because I wasn’t a bad kid. But I wasn’t able to fall asleep the rest of the night. I stayed up thinking about what my granddad meant by “shape up.”
I thought about his words for the next few days, trying to figure out what I needed to shape up in my life. A few days later, I went again to my grandparents’ home to rub my grandfather’s back. I finished that and sat down to talk to my grandma. She said, “Carl, Granddad prays that you will gain the desire to serve a mission for the Lord.”
Later that night I was working out on my gymnastics. I heard my coach yelling at me to concentrate. I was so caught up thinking about the conversation that I had with my grandma and the decision I had to make that it was hard for me to work out. I was torn between a college scholarship for gymnastics and a mission.
As I was lying in bed later that night, I thought back to my granddad saying, “Carl, shape up.” I thought, Are your priorities where they should be? They weren’t. My number one priority was gymnastics and not the Lord and his work. I finally figured out what my granddad meant by “shape up.” He meant my soul and mind. The only way to do that was to start going to seminary and church. This time I really tried to get something out of it. For the first time in my life I read the Book of Mormon. As I did this I took the great prophet Moroni’s advice and prayed about the Book of Mormon and Joseph Smith. Through this I not only gained the desire to serve a mission but I also found the light and life of the world, Jesus Christ.

I caught hold of the gospel and hung on tight. I worked furiously to catch up in knowledge with my friends who had been raised in the Church. Many of my Mormon peers thought I was terribly self-righteous. I suppose it may have seemed that way to them, but I tried to be perfect because I was convinced that I could never escape my sins. I thought that by knowing all of the answers in church and receiving awards in seminary I could somehow make up for all the mistakes I had made. I remember thinking at the time that I could never be free from my haunting past. I accepted that fact and resolved to be perfect in order to compensate.
One of the hardest steps of repentance (at least for me) was to forgive myself. For four long years I struggled. To everyone around me I seemed spiritual and well-versed in the scriptures. Others told me how far I had come and how well I was doing, but only I knew the black that lined my heart. I had forsaken my past sins, and I was sure that God was pleased with my new life. But I felt that he was holding my past over my head, waiting for me to fall again.
Finally, in despair and confusion, I asked for a blessing. Words cannot express the peace that entered my heart as I received this personal revelation: I would receive the reassurance of the Holy Ghost and know that I was in good standing with Heavenly Father.
How could that be? My mind didn’t understand it, but my heart accepted it. So I believed it.

In June of 1837, the Prophet Joseph Smith called Heber C. Kimball, an Apostle, to go on a mission to England. Elder Kimball’s call came as the two sat in the Kirtland Temple and Joseph spoke with divine authority: “Brother Heber, the Spirit of the Lord has whispered to me, ‘Let my servant Heber go to England and proclaim my gospel and open the door of salvation to that nation.’”3

That whispering of the Spirit is an example of how the call comes to servants of the Lord to send missionaries to their fields of labor.
Today missionaries go forth two by two as appointed by the Lord, carrying that same message, with the same divine call to serve from the prophet of God. Our prophet, President Thomas S. Monson, has said of those called to serve: “The missionary opportunity of a lifetime is yours. The blessings of eternity await you. Yours is the privilege to be not spectators but participants on the stage of priesthood service.”4
The stage is yours, my dear Aaronic Priesthood boys. Are you ready and willing to play your part? The Lord needs every able young man to prepare and recommit, starting tonight, to be worthy of a call from the prophet of God to serve a mission.
I remember fondly our entire family’s great joy when two of our children received their calls to serve as full-time missionaries. Excitement and anticipation filled our hearts as they each opened their special letter from the prophet of God. Our daughter Jenessa was called to the Michigan Detroit Mission, and our son, Christian, was called to the Russia Moscow South Mission. What humbling and thrilling experiences, all at the same time!
As Sister Rasband and I had the privilege of presiding over the New York New York North Mission several years ago, I marveled as the missionaries arrived in New York City.
As I interviewed them on their first day in the mission, I had a profound sense of gratitude for each missionary. I felt that their call to our mission was divinely designed for them and for me as their mission president.
After finishing our mission assignment, I was called by President Gordon B. Hinckley to serve as a Seventy in the Church. Part of my early training as a new General Authority included an opportunity to sit with members of the Twelve as they assigned missionaries to serve in one of the 300-plus missions of this great Church.
With the encouragement and permission of President Henry B. Eyring, I would like to relate to you an experience, very special to me, which I had with him several years ago when he was a member of the Quorum of the Twelve. Each Apostle holds the keys of the kingdom and exercises them at the direction and assignment of the President of the Church. Elder Eyring was assigning missionaries to their fields of labor, and as part of my training, I was invited to observe.
I joined Elder Eyring early one morning in a room where several large computer screens had been prepared for the session. There was also a staff member from the Missionary Department who had been assigned to assist us that day.
First, we knelt together in prayer. I remember Elder Eyring using very sincere words, asking the Lord to bless him to know “perfectly” where the missionaries should be assigned. The word “perfectly” said much about the faith that Elder Eyring exhibited that day.
As the process began, a picture of the missionary to be assigned would come up on one of the computer screens. As each picture appeared, to me it was as if the missionary were in the room with us. Elder Eyring would then greet the missionary with his kind and endearing voice: “Good morning, Elder Reier or Sister Yang. How are you today?”
He told me that in his own mind he liked to think of where the missionaries would conclude their mission. This would aid him to know where they were to be assigned. Elder Eyring would then study the comments from the bishops and stake presidents, medical notes, and other issues relating to each missionary.
He then referred to another screen which displayed areas and missions across the world. Finally, as he was prompted by the Spirit, he would assign the missionary to his or her field of labor.
From others of the Twelve, I have learned that this general method is typical each week as Apostles of the Lord assign scores of missionaries to serve throughout the world.
Having served as a missionary in my own country in the Eastern States Mission a number of years ago, I was deeply moved by this experience. Also, having served as a mission president, I was grateful for a further witness in my heart that the missionaries I had received in New York City were sent to me by revelation.
After assigning a few missionaries, Elder Eyring turned to me as he pondered one particular missionary and said, “So, Brother Rasband, where do you think this missionary should go?” I was startled! I quietly suggested to Elder Eyring that I did not know and that I did not know I could know! He looked at me directly and simply said, “Brother Rasband, pay closer attention and you too can know!” With that, I pulled my chair a little closer to Elder Eyring and the computer screen, and I did pay much closer attention!
A couple of other times as the process moved along, Elder Eyring would turn to me and say, “Well, Brother Rasband, where do you feel this missionary should go?” I would name a particular mission, and Elder Eyring would look at me thoughtfully and say, “No, that’s not it!” He would then continue to assign the missionaries where he had felt prompted.
As we were nearing the completion of that assignment meeting, a picture of a certain missionary appeared on the screen. I had the strongest prompting, the strongest of the morning, that the missionary we had before us was to be assigned to Japan. I did not know that Elder Eyring was going to ask me on this one, but amazingly he did. I rather tentatively and humbly said to him, “Japan?” Elder Eyring responded immediately, “Yes, let’s go there.” And up on the computer screen the missions of Japan appeared. I instantly knew that the missionary was to go to the Japan Sapporo Mission.
Elder Eyring did not ask me the exact name of the mission, but he did assign that missionary to the Japan Sapporo Mission.
Privately in my heart I was deeply touched and sincerely grateful to the Lord for allowing me to experience the prompting to know where that missionary should go.
At the end of the meeting Elder Eyring bore his witness to me of the love of the Savior, which He has for each missionary assigned to go out into the world and preach the restored gospel. He said that it is by the great love of the Savior that His servants know where these wonderful young men and women, senior missionaries, and senior couple missionaries are to serve. I had a further witness that morning that every missionary called in this Church, and assigned or reassigned to a particular mission, is called by revelation from the Lord God Almighty through one of these, His servants.
I conclude with the Lord’s words to the Whitmer brothers, who had a profound role in the early days of the Restoration. They were witnesses to the gold plates, and their signed testimonies are included at the front of every copy of the Book of Mormon. They were among the first band of missionaries called by a prophet of God in 1829 to preach the gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ.
In the preface to section 14 of the Doctrine and Covenants, it states, “Three of the Whitmer sons, each having received a testimony as to the genuineness of the work, became deeply concerned over the matter of their individual duty.”
To John and Peter Whitmer Jr. the Lord said this: “For many times you have desired of me to know that which would be of the most worth unto you.”5
I suppose many of you young men have asked yourselves that same question. Here is the Lord’s answer: “And now, behold, I say unto you, that the thing which will be of the most worth unto you will be to declare repentance unto this people, that you may bring souls unto me, that you may rest with them in the kingdom of my Father.”6
At this time in your life, a mission call from the Lord, my young friends, is the most important work that you can do. Prepare now, live righteously, learn from your family and Church leaders, and come join with us in building the kingdom of God on earth—accept your divine appointment in “so great a cause.”7 This is my humble prayer in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

As I was coming home this afternoon, I saw a bride and groom coming out of that pretty little church on Spring Street. I thought, “That could well be one of my own children soon: beautiful, strong, happy, and in love—but marrying for only “until death do us part.” As I did. The thought made me feel wistful—it would be so beautiful to look forward to being forever with the one you love. I would like my children to be married in the temple, even though the Spring Street church is charming and a thousand miles closer to home.
By the time I got to the driveway my mind had turned to more daily thoughts: “Tomorrow is Sunday. I wish my love would even just go to church with us, to say nothing of going to the celestial kingdom. I hope he won’t be annoyed about using the car and the money for gas to drive the kids to the stake dance tonight, where I will sit alone and wait for them while he goes bowling.”
Our three teenagers were eating egg sandwiches and drinking lemonade on the deck and invited me to join them. They had been teasing Beth about her crush on a boy who had grown tall and handsome over the summer. He is a very nice person, but he is not at all interested in the Church. This was a perfect excuse for me to talk about those things which I had on my mind right then.
Our children have always chosen friends we felt we could trust, and I told them I was proud of them for that. But I also told them, “It is possible to find a lifetime love even while you’re a teenager, so it is important to date members of the Church.”
Melody said, “Well, Mom, I’m quite sure the Church is true, but I’m not really into it. So why should I date just members?”
“The gospel and the way of life it teaches will be more important to you than you realize now,” I told her. “It is important for your earthly happiness as well as your eternal happiness to marry someone who cares about the things you care about. Can you believe that life-style can ruin a relationship with someone you live with? You know how hard it is to get along with Beth just sharing a room, and you already have the same beliefs!”
They both laughed and told about the agreement they had finally come to this morning about tolerating each other’s noise and clutter. (Let’s hope it works!)
Then I said, “I know you each will marry people who we will be proud to take into the family. However, because of the painfulness of an interfaith marriage, it is important to date people who share your values. Becoming seriously involved with someone who would not go to church with you, much less the temple, could lead to temptations, lowering your standards, and interfaith marriages.”
Billy saw the pained look on Beth’s face, and turned to me and asked, “Why couldn’t we marry out of the Church, like you did?” (Ouch!) “And we could each believe whatever we want?”
I felt surprised by the question. After all, Billy has lived with this dilemma all his life. He used to wait to ask his questions about religion until his father wasn’t around. He did not like to hear that annoyed sigh when a gospel topic came up.
I chose not to remind him of these things. So I said, “The most important reason for marrying a Church member is so you both can love and be loved for who you truly are. Isn’t that better than loving someone in spite of who they are? When you marry a member you will be able to love and admire each other and respect the beliefs that are so much a part of you. Otherwise you have to make too many compromises. Have you noticed how hard it is to work out acceptable compromises here about how much time, energy, and money we should be giving to Church activities? Once one begins compromising it gets easier to slip about reading scriptures, going to meetings, paying tithing, even praying.”
They all agreed that the families they know who are all active members do seem to be more strongly founded in the gospel, support each other in activities, and help each other with challenges.
“Yes, a person’s belief is a person’s way of life, values, and understanding,” I pointed out. “Every decision is based on your belief. A marriage should begin with at least a common base for problem solving and goal setting.”
“Hey! I know what to do!” Beth said, brightening. “Marry them; then convert them!”
“Hey, yourself! That’s unfair!” I answered quickly. “Like I said, you have to marry someone for who he is, accepting each other; not planning to change him. Anyway, the only person you really can change is yourself. Besides, very few who marry nonmembers ever get to the temple with them. Some go inactive and lose the blessings of the gospel, many get divorced, and some remain somewhat active, at a price.”
Billy had turned away and been so quiet that I asked him what he was thinking about.
“Dad,” he answered slowly. “He’s been a good sport for us. I know Church things bother him, but he’s never said anything bad about it. I wonder what it’s like for him to be living with us, having us go off without him to meetings and activities and, well, you know.”
Oh, how I knew! “He has been a good sport,” I agreed. “And as sad as we are about not having him with us at church, he is sad that we are not with him at those times. And along with his feelings of sadness or annoyance, how do you think he feels about our loyalty? Could you imagine how scary it must be for a nonmember to worry whether the people he loves might love the Lord, His Church or His people more than they love him? So while the nonmember is sad, annoyed, and worried, the member is yearning and praying for him to join the Church.”
Melody said, “Yeah, but—,” which made the rest of us chuckle and join in our family chant of, “yeah, but; yehbut!”
“But we do have to be realistic, Mom. It’s not like there are even any kids in seminary with us. We will be dating nonmembers unless we move to Utah or somewhere out there. So what would you suggest if one of us does fall in love with a nonmember?”
I did have to be realistic; out here there are very few LDS people to date, and they are scattered. So I answered what I had been thinking over for months.
“I would hope that by then you would have realized your beliefs were important to you. You should plan to go to all your meetings during your courtship and invite them to activities and meetings. Also, if there is talk of marriage between you, ask them seriously to take the discussions.”
Melody looked annoyed and said, “Oh, Mom, that would scare them off!”
Beth suggested, “Maybe we could just cool the activities and meetings while we’re getting to know one another.”
I felt like she hadn’t really understood; then I remembered that people have to hear things at least three times before they remember and understand. “It would be important to continue your normal way of life during courtship so that anyone you’re going to marry gets to really know you and how you want to live. It would not be fair for you to drop it now to keep the peace, then plan to pick it up later. That’s like changing the rules in the middle of the game.
“Besides,” I reflected, “you may not be able to get yourself back to Church activity, for many reasons.”
“I have heard of people getting too busy or living too far away, or even just getting out of the habit of going to church,” said Bill. “I guess if staying active meant giving a rude surprise to someone you love, you’d probably decide not to do it.”
“Yes, then blame them for the sadness you’d feel about not going, like Sister Z.,” said Melody, who was friends with this inactive, part-member family.
Beth said thoughtfully, “Isn’t there some way to keep your love and your activity? What did you do, Mom?”
Bill’s face flushed and he looked a little sad as he blurted, “Why doesn’t he—?”
I interrupted because I did not want to feel emotional. “Dad doesn’t talk about religion, and it has to be between him and Heavenly Father. Just keep praying and loving. But to get back to your choosing someone—”
Beth interrupted this time. “What would you do if one of us was going to marry a nonmember?” “I would ask you a lot of questions and ask you to talk with each other about your life-style, hopes, and compromises before you married. Would you pray together? Could you plan to remain active in the Church and magnify callings? Could visiting teachers, home teachers, and missionaries be welcome in your home? Could beliefs be openly discussed? What would you have to do to accommodate his beliefs? What would you do about religion for the future children? You would probably think I was too nosey, so I would ask our home teachers and the branch president to help you with these things. I might even ask Dad to help; he knows the other point of view! And, if worse came to worse, I’d consider talking to your intended.”
“Boy, you’d sure make a big deal of it!” exclaimed Melody, sounding exasperated.
“Of course,” I replied. “It is necessary to plan how to make each other happy while being true to yourselves. After all that, if you still went through with the marriage, I would remember how Dad has blessed my life and I would be happy for your happiness. I promise, too, that I would stand back and try to be a good mother-in-law like both of your grandmothers are. You know I will always pray for your happiness and for the happiness of those you love. Each of you has the potential of bringing joy to someone’s life; you deserve the best.”
While we were speaking, Dad drove in. Billy went to greet him. I gave Beth a quick hug as she and Melody went to get a piece of cake and some lemonade for their father. When I caught his eye, I blew him a welcoming kiss, and waited.

President George Albert Smith, left, the eighth President of the Church, was born on 4 April 1870, just across the street from Temple Square. When he was 13, he attended Brigham Young Academy. He said, “I cannot remember much of what was said during the year that I was there, but there is one thing that I will probably never forget. Dr. [Karl] Maeser one day stood up and said:
“‘Not only will you be held accountable for the things that you do, but you will be held responsible for the very thoughts you think.’
“Being a boy, not in the habit of controlling my thoughts very much, it was quite a puzzle to me what I was to do, and it worried me.” A few days after this, President Smith came to a realization: “Why, of course, you will be held accountable for your thoughts because when your life is complete in mortality, it will be the sum of your thoughts. That one suggestion has been a great blessing to me all my life, and it has enabled me upon many occasions to avoid thinking improperly because I realize that I will be, when my life’s labor is complete, the product of my thoughts” (Church News, Feb. 16, 1946, 1).

While Papa was getting his land ready, I was preparing a little plot close to the house to plant the seeds I had brought. I was digging with the spade one day when he came in from the field for dinner. “What are you making, Dora?” he asked.
“My garden,” I said.
“What are you going to plant?”
“Beans and watermelon. I brought the seeds from Utah in my box.”
“What a good thing to bring! That makes them very special seeds. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to them if they came clear from Salt Lake. I’ll help you build a fence around your garden to keep out the cows and chickens.”
After I had finished my garden, Ed and I decided to fix one for our Indian grandma. We kept it watered and weeded, and she enjoyed coming outside to watch it grow, as well as for the tasty addition of fresh vegetables to her diet.

As a member of the Church, Joshua was particularly impressed with a certain group of young adults. “At first, I wasn’t sure what an ‘RM’ was. But the more I watched returned missionaries, and whenever I spent time around one of them, I knew I wanted to be one too,” he recalls.
Year after year, the returned missionaries impressed him. When he came of age, Joshua met with his bishop, submitted his application, and waited to receive his mission call.
“The more I watched returned missionaries … I knew I wanted to be one too.”
That’s when, one Sunday, half a dozen refugees who are returned missionaries—and also friends with Joshua—gathered in the cultural hall after church to counsel with him.
One of them, Madelaine Lamah, who served in the New York New York South Mission, said her mission motto was “Forever Changed.” She reminded Joshua that joining the Church changed his family’s life and that he would be an instrument of change for others as he shared the gospel with them.
Jean-Pierre Benimana, who served in the California Los Angeles Mission, reminded Joshua that “the happiest people on earth are those who live the gospel of Jesus Christ with all their hearts.”
The returned missionaries were refugees from countries like Burundi and Rwanda, in Africa, and Burma, in Asia. They have served in places like Los Angeles, California, and Birmingham, Alabama, in the USA, and in western African countries like Benin and Côte d’Ivoire. They were blessed to receive the gospel, and they were equally blessed to share it. Now they explained to Joshua that he was about to become a part of that legacy.
A few weeks later, a big, white envelope arrived in the mail. Another group gathered, this time at Fredrick and Esperance’s home. The group included family, LDS friends and neighbors, and some friends from other faiths.
Joshua, dressed in a white shirt and tie, stood up, opened the envelope, and read, “Dear Elder Mana: You are hereby called to serve as a missionary of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. You are assigned to labor in the Brazil Porto Alegre South Mission …”
There were cheers, tears, hugs, but most of all, joy. Then there was a brief moment for Elder Mana to speak.
He quoted a scripture he has learned to love: “Freely ye have received, freely give” (Matthew 10:8).
Then he shared his testimony: “The gospel has changed my life so much because it helps me to know that Father in Heaven has a plan for us, and if we follow His commandments we can go back to Him again one day. Every day I follow the Holy Ghost. He prompts me what to do, because there’s lots of work that Father in Heaven needs me to do to build His kingdom.
“Being a missionary is part of that, as well. My purpose in going on a mission is to bring people to Christ and give them the gospel.”
It’s a testimony he will share freely, and often, with the people of Brazil.

America was deep in the economic depression of the 1930s. I was one of several small children in our family, and my father had been unemployed for many months. Our needs were many. Though I was only a child, I felt my parents’ concern.
Each morning we knelt together as a family, and each one in turn led our prayer. One morning it was Mother’s turn. She described some of our immediate needs, and then she thanked Heavenly Father for the privilege of living the law of tithing. I immediately experienced a feeling of comfort and assurance. Living the law of the tithe was a privilege and would bring blessings. I did not doubt it, because my mother knew it.