Gospel Story Finder

Taking a stand wasn’t easy for Sarah Koyle, a Laurel who lives in Rancho Cucamonga, California, but she knew it was the right thing to do. When a teacher at her school showed a movie that Sarah felt was inappropriate, she made her opinion known.
After Sarah’s bold move, there was little room for doubt by her peers as to what Sarah believed was right. Then a local newspaper interviewed Sarah about her stand on R-rated movies. Again, Sarah was able to voice her opinions without reservation.
Was all the attention worth it, especially when Sarah seemed to be the only one who felt that the movies were wrong?
“If I were given the chance, I would definitely do this again,” says Sarah. “Standing for the prophet’s words is something I can’t do enough of. It wasn’t easy, but it was right.”

When I arrived at BYU–Hawaii I wasn’t a member of the Church. I had friends who were members of the “Mormon” Church. Calling each other Brother and Sister was new for me. I took required religion classes and received the missionary discussions. I was interested in joining the church, but it was difficult for my parents to have me change my religion. Then in the summer of 1980, I attended the baptism of my future father-in-law, Warren Johnson Sr., at Temple Beach I felt a special feeling, and was determined that I would get baptized as well. On July 4, 1980, my basketball teammate, Roger Rowberry from Idaho baptized me a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I can remember that early morning. I didn’t have a way to Laie so I ran from Kahuku to the Laie Hawaii Stake Center. The full-time missionaries had me change into my baptism clothing and one of my best friends baptized me. One of the full-time missionaries confirmed me a member of the church. BYU–Hawaii was definitely a missionary factor. I received the gospel and joined the church when I was a student at BYU–Hawaii. The next summer in August of 1981, I entered the Provo Missionary Training Center to serve in the Wisconsin Milwaukee Mission. This was not a lifetime goal for me and if not for the influence I received from my wife, good friends, and people at BYU–Hawaii and PCC, I would not have gone on a mission. It was a difficult decision to graduate from college or to delay my education and serve a mission first. My parents did not understand a mission therefore they did not support it. I would not hear from my parents for two years until I returned from the mission field. What a great opportunity I had to serve the people in Wisconsin. Wisconsin was a foreign land for me the winters were long and cold. I remembered teaching the Littel Family. This Family was contacted by earlier missionaries going door-to-door finding people to teach the gospel. The earlier missionaries baptized two members of the family, but were unable to baptize the parents and two other siblings. My companion and I were able to share the gospel and the aloha spirit. This family became our friends and they wanted to know more about the gospel and beautiful Hawaii. Later the parents were also baptized. Another son and daughter were not baptized but were friendly towards the church. My required religion classes prepared me for my mission. When I entered into the mission field in August of 1981 I had read all of the standard works because it was required at BYU–Hawaii. What a blessing to have done that. Today students from BYU–Hawaii continue to enter into the mission field and serve millions.

When President Nelson invited the women of the Church in October 2018 general conference to read the Book of Mormon before the end of the year, Matthew, Andrew, and Isaac, along with their father and younger brothers, decided to offer Mom their support. “We’ll read it with you!” they said. Every morning before seminary, they woke up to read together.
“When we took on this challenge, I thought it was going to take a lot of time,” Andrew says. “I worried that I wouldn’t have enough time to do everything I wanted to do, like play the guitar or hang out with my friends. But I realized that it just doesn’t work like that. The more I was into reading the Book of Mormon, the more time I actually seemed to have. I realized that if I keep up on reading the scriptures as much as possible, my life is balanced. I have more time in the day.”

My husband, John, was a big man. He stood six feet four inches (1.9 m) tall and weighed more than 200 pounds (90.9 kg). For him, air travel in economy class was uncomfortable at best, painful at worst.
In August 2006 we were called to serve a Church educational service mission at Brigham Young University–Hawaii. When it came time to return home, we were dreading what he would have to endure in the flight back to the mainland. During check-in we were delighted to find that there was one seat available in first class, so we upgraded his ticket. He would be able to sit in a comfortable seat with plenty of room for his long legs.
About midway through the flight, I decided to go see how he was doing. As I approached the first-class area, a flight attendant stood in the doorway to stop me.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“Yes, I would like to see my husband for a moment,” I replied.
“I’m sorry,” she said pleasantly but firmly, “you can’t come up here.”
“But he’s my husband, and I just want to see him for a minute.”
Still barring the door, she again stated, “I’m sorry, but you are not allowed up here. I can give your husband a message, and if he would like to, he can come visit you. But the policy is that only first-class passengers can be in this area.”
I was taken aback for a moment, but seeing her persistence, I quietly returned to my seat in economy class.
I began to think about the three degrees of glory mentioned in the scriptures and by the prophets. We read that Christ will visit those in the terrestrial kingdom (see D&C 76:77), and administering angels will visit those in the telestial kingdom (see D&C 76:88), but those who are in the lesser kingdoms can never go up to the celestial kingdom (see D&C 76:112; see also D&C 88:22–24). Reflecting upon my experience, I felt that I just had a glimpse of what it might be like for those in the lower kingdoms. How would they feel upon hearing the words “I’m sorry, you can’t come up here”?
About five months later my husband passed away from cancer. My experience on the airplane gives me extra incentive to live so that I never have to hear those words again—at least not on the other side of the veil.

Church members in Tallinn spent a day helping needy community members perform maintenance on their homes. Some participants chopped wood and shoveled coal, while others cleaned carpets, changed curtains, and washed windows and walls.
Maila Chan went with her family to visit an older woman and chop wood for her. “As a mother I am so happy that our family had such a wonderful experience,” she said. “How great it is that while serving others, you forget your own problems completely. I know that while serving others, we only serve our God.”
Margit Timakov also observed, “Putting aside my own duties and committing myself wholly to helping somebody, I understood what power sacrifice really has. We do not need to ask why or whether we could have done something else. We just reach out and help. We help because we care. We help because we want to follow Christ’s example.”

He returned with an assignment from his mission president to give a report to the First Presidency on the condition of the mission. He was scheduled to spend just a few minutes with President Heber J. Grant and his counselors, but the meeting lasted much longer. As it turned out in the months ahead, that report to the First Presidency was a job interview as well.
A new committee of the Twelve was organized to bring to missionary work the power of the latest means of communication. Gordon was to serve as producer and secretary for the Church Radio, Publicity, and Mission Literature Committee. This was, in fact, the beginning of the public communications office in the Church. His plans to go to the university would be put aside. His career as a seminary teacher, for he taught part-time when he returned from his mission, would be replaced. The committee included six members of the Twelve, with Elder Stephen L. Richards as chairman.
There was an empty office available, but no furniture at the moment. Being resourceful, he went to a former missionary companion whose father sold office furniture and came away with a shaky reject table. One leg was short; that could be fixed with a block of wood. The top was warped and split a little; that could be ignored. He brought his typewriter from home and began a career that would take him to the ordination of an Apostle and to the First Presidency of the Church.

Right after I was baptized and confirmed, my grandmother said, “You have the Holy Ghost now, and it’s important that you have a testimony of the prophet.” Soon I went to general conference for the first time—the October conference of 1949.
It was quite an adventure. I slept over at my grandparents’ house. I remember getting up very early on Saturday morning and riding the bus to downtown Salt Lake City with my grandmother. We walked over to Temple Square and stood in a line for a long, long time. When we got to the Tabernacle, we sat in the back corner.
Just before the meeting started, there was a hush and everybody stood up. Then President George Albert Smith (1870–1951) walked in. I could see President Smith and his counselors. I’ve never forgotten how I felt when I first saw the prophet. I felt something very, very special. I knew he was the Lord’s prophet.
That was a very important event. I feel the same way when I see the President of the Church now. I have served as a General Authority now with three Presidents of the Church. And when the President walks in, I still have that testimony: “He’s the prophet.”

Because of the shifting population, ward boundaries were reorganized. Parts of three wards were combined into one ward, and I was called as bishop. I had a few days to think about counselors. The first name came quickly and the Spirit confirmed it. But I wasn’t immediately sure who the other counselor should be.
I considered several younger men in the new ward, but I didn’t know them well. It seemed to me that we needed them more in the Young Men organization.
I knew an older man, Larry Morgan, who had lived in the neighborhood for a long time. In fact, he had been a youth leader when I was a teenager. Now he was 76. I felt prompted to talk with him. “Maybe he’ll help me become better acquainted with some of the people I don’t know,” I thought.
He was standing in the driveway when I arrived at his home, and without a word spoken, I knew Larry was to be the other counselor. I visited with him for a few minutes; then I returned home and called the stake president. That Sunday the bishopric was sustained, with Larry as second counselor.
Larry was soft-spoken and deliberate in his manner, but when he spoke, people listened. He also had unwavering faith in the Lord. I soon learned to trust his counsel.

Let me tell you a quick story about a briefcase. I know it’s a weird subject for a story, but it’s actually a magic briefcase. It’s my magic Brigham Young University briefcase. I visited here in the fall of 2007 for the first time—I’d never been here before. My friend Gary Cornia, who is the dean of the business school, gave me a beautiful briefcase that said “Brigham Young University” on it. I took it home and put it away because I already had a briefcase, and I didn’t think about it.

About a month later my briefcase broke, and I was complaining to my wife, and I said, “The handle’s broken. It’s very inconvenient.”

And she said, “What about that BYU briefcase you brought home? Why don’t you carry that?”

And I said, “Oh. Okay. That’s a good idea.”

So I took all my stuff and put it in the BYU briefcase, and I started carrying it around.

At the time, my research assistant at Syracuse University, Nick Bailey (he’s here—he actually works at BYU now), noticed, and he said, “You’re carrying a BYU briefcase.”

I said, “Yeah, it’s great. It’s an Italian briefcase. It’s very nice.”

I travel a lot, and one of the funny things I noticed is that when you are out in public carrying a briefcase that says something on it, the first thing people you don’t know do is read the briefcase and then look at you. It occurred to me that people were thinking, “He’s a Mormon guy.” And that’s actually sort of false religious advertising because I’m a Roman Catholic. I take my faith seriously, but no matter how seriously I take my faith, technically that still doesn’t make me a Mormon.

So I was walking around saying, basically, “I’m a Mormon,” and the funny thing is that it was changing my personality. And the reason it was changing my personality was because I was mortified by the idea that somebody would say, “You know, I was in the airport, and I saw this Mormon guy, and he was being a real jerk.” I wanted to live up to someone else’s reputation, and it was making me into a better person. It was a magic briefcase.

So what’s the implication of this story? Well, obviously it might just be that I’m trying to get a new briefcase right now. (Maybe the greatest kind of evangelization that the LDS Church could undertake would be to buy 300 million briefcases and give them out to all Americans.) But the bigger point here is that carrying the briefcase was actually making my life better. I was happier; things were going really well for me as I was carrying that briefcase. And the reason is that the service for which Mormons have become justifiably famous was infecting my life. It was making me better as a person. It was helping me. And I thank you for that.

“You’re it!” Mandy said. She tagged her little brother and then swam away. Mandy’s family was staying in a motel until they could move to their new home. It was fun eating ravioli warmed up in the microwave for lunch. And they got to swim in the motel pool almost every day!
But there was one not-so-good part about the motel. The motel manager’s office was right under their room, and the manager thought Mandy and her brothers and sisters were too loud. “How can I rent rooms when it sounds like a herd of elephants are over my head?” he asked Dad.
After lunch Mandy’s little brother Aaron jumped off the bed and hit the floor with a thump. Mandy winced and looked up at Mom.
“No jumping. Tiptoe, please,” Mom said.
But it was too late. The phone rang.
“Uh oh,” thought Mandy.
Mom picked up the phone. Mandy could hear her apologizing to the manager.
Mom’s shoulders sagged as she hung up the phone. “Edward and Mandy,” she said, “I need to put Aaron and Emily down for a nap. Will you please take Kristine and Daniel for a walk?”
As they started across the motel parking lot, Mandy spotted something small and brown on the ground.
It was a wallet. And it had money in it!
“Look, Edward!” she said, holding the wallet up high.
“We need to take this to the manager’s office right away,” said Edward.
Mandy felt her stomach clench. Why did they have to take it right now? Couldn’t Mom or Dad return it later?
But Mandy knew the right thing to do.
The children opened the office door and timidly stepped inside. The manager frowned. “Um, we found this wallet in the parking lot,” Mandy said. Her hand shook as she set the wallet on the counter.
A man who was standing at the counter looked over. “That’s mine,” he said. He quickly looked through the wallet. “And everything’s here. Thank you, kids!”
Mandy looked up at the manager. His frown was gone, and his eyes were twinkling.
After they left the office, Daniel asked, “Was that wallet magic?”
“Why do you think it’s magic?” asked Edward.
“Because it made the grumpy man happy!”
Edward shook his head. “The wallet wasn’t magic,” he said. “He was happy because we did the right thing.”
Mandy had a special feeling inside. She never knew choosing the right could make people so happy.
A few days later, Mandy and Dad went to pay the week’s bill. The manager smiled at Mandy. He had only called once since they found the wallet, and just to thank them for being honest. Mandy felt like she’d made a new friend.
“Choosing the right really is magical,” Mandy thought. She waved goodbye, and the manager waved back. “And he really isn’t so grumpy after all.”

One of those moments came as Michelle and I began our service as mission leaders in Redlands, California. After about a one-hour orientation, the former mission leaders gave us the keys and the cell phone, wished us well, and went on their way. As they went out the door, I wanted to run after them and tell them to come back and tell us how we were supposed to do this job!

On the next day, my family all left to explore our new city, and I was left alone. I felt anxious and overwhelmed. I laid down on my bed, paralyzed—wondering how I could do what the Lord had called me to do. As I lay there, wallowing in my own self-doubt, I received a prompting to go to my computer and read the emails that were pouring in from our missionaries.

As I read their words of welcome and love and got a sense of their commitment to Jesus Christ and to their missionary purpose, the Holy Ghost filled my soul with deep love for them. A clear thought came to my mind: “This is not your work; this is mine.”

This reminder that the battle is the Lord’s and that we are His instruments changed everything. I couldn’t wait to start! I was ready to commend myself and our family to God.

Many times throughout my life I have felt prompted that I should pursue my interests in art and develop my abilities. As a result of these promptings and as a result of careful and prayerful consideration, Jennifer and I agreed that I should pursue graduate studies in art after completing my degree at BYU. When the time came I researched numerous programs across the country, pondered options, fasted, prayed, and selected several programs to which I submitted applications. Given all of the factors, this was not an easy task, but we were excited about the possibilities.

After waiting several months I started to receive letters from the various programs I had applied to. Good news: I had options! But Jennifer and I then faced the dilemma of making a decision. We carefully reviewed the pros and cons of the individual programs and we prayed, earnestly seeking divine guidance.

On one occasion during this period of time I walked into an office here on campus and noticed on a desk a letter with the logo for The Ohio State University. Immediately a distinct thought popped into my head: “You should apply there.” I hadn’t previously considered Ohio State. I thought about it for a second, but it was quite late in the year to apply to programs, and given that I already had offers from other schools, I dismissed the thought.

Within a few days of that experience I was walking down a hall here in the Harris Fine Arts Center and saw a poster. You guessed it—the poster featured an Ohio State logo. Again the thought immediately popped into my head: “You should apply there.” I started to get the idea, so I immediately found a computer, did a little bit of research, and, with some disappointment, discovered that the graduate application deadline for Ohio State had passed.

The following day I ran into one of my BYU professors who was—and still is—an influential mentor. He told me that he had been looking for me and explained that he had just gotten off the phone with a colleague from The Ohio State University. The colleague had called seeking recommendations for potential graduate students for his program. My mentor then explained that he had recommended me, and if interested, I should give the professor a call.

Long story short, it turns out that I made the call and things worked out very well. I was offered a most advantageous situation in an excellent art program. The lens was very clear at that moment. We accepted the offer and had a very challenging but valuable experience. I don’t know what would have happened had I attended a different school, but I did know in that moment, as I do today, that our Father in Heaven watches over us and will guide us in important things when we seek His direction.

Merrell: After my mission I was hired as a part-time employee of the BYU Sound Services while studying music theory and composition at the university. I began by recording concerts and recitals, then moved into producing records, and eventually became a full-time musical supervisor. My first big break came when I was given the opportunity to do the arrangements for The First Vision. The music was very difficult to write, especially the revelation sequence. I listened to many of the great pieces that have been done concerning deity—such as Ben Hur and Crawford Gates’ music to the Hill Cumorah pageant—but nothing came to me. I wrote a lot of ideas down on paper, but none of them really made sense. So finally I shut the door of my studio and got down on the hard linoleum and began praying. I told Heavenly Father, “I’ve written this idea and this is how it goes, and now I’m not sure just what to write. I’ve done everything I can. Now what should I do?” When I finished, I knelt there for a while, hoping something would happen, but nothing did. So I got up and walked over to the piano and sat down and started looking at my favorite theme. Then suddenly I saw how I could take that idea and add another idea to it and write this little thing in between and put this together and take that and bridge this and change that one and do all this and that was it! I started writing, and about 45 minutes later I had written the whole sequence. What I’ve learned from that experience, and over and over again since then, is to put all the effort and research into my music that I can, and then just relax and let the Spirit take over. I don’t feel I can ask the Lord for help if I’m not working as hard as I can.

May I conclude my remarks on fast offerings with portions of a letter I received several years ago from Elder John H. Groberg, who at that time was president of the Tongan Mission.
“Enclosed find a check for $1,000 for excess fast offerings from the Tongan Mission. Normally this letter would end here, but because of an experience I recently had I would like to add a little more.
“As you may or may not be aware, Tonga is one of the poorest countries financially in the world. The average wage rate is only around 12¢ per hour if you are lucky enough to have a job. …
“Recently, while visiting one of the far distant islands that is very difficult to get to, I went late in the day to the home of one of the good widow sisters there.
“When I first approached her hut the sun was still quite bright and I could not help but notice the stark poverty of her surroundings. It had been raining earlier. The mud and decay and the ever-present smell of drying fish were at first repulsive. But the warmth of meeting with a fellow Church member—especially after years of separation—together with tears of appreciation for the long-awaited visit, soon pushed the unpleasantness of the surroundings temporarily into the background.
“As we conversed in her fluid native tongue and she told of her love for and faith in the Church and of all the blessings she had received, I could not help but think about her apparently miserable circumstances. … All sorts of ideas went through my mind, and I must have let my thoughts wander as I suddenly became aware that somewhere between phrases about blessings and poverty and service she had gone to her hut and was now returning with a small knotted rag.
“Suddenly my mind seemed to fill with light, and the words ‘fast offerings’ flooded in. I was so excited with the idea that had come so suddenly and so clearly, that you can imagine my utter amazement and unpreparedness when she took a threepence (a coin worth about 3¢) from her rag and said softly, ‘Here is my fast offering … to help the poor.’
“I wanted to explain that fast offering was to help her, not for her to help others. The explanation never came, for as I looked through misty eyes, first at the threepence then back at the good sister, the whole scene changed.
“The hut was a glowing mansion and the mud was gold. … The world seemed to stand still for a moment. All of nature seemed to stop and listen as from the heavens the whole universe seemed filled with the reassuring words: ‘Blessed are the poor … for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.’ (Matt. 5:3.)
“As the setting sun signaled the end of the day, so it also told of the approaching end of her beautiful life of service.
“I took the threepence, and as I write this check the whole experience once again fills my mind and I wonder, ‘How many threepences to make a thousand dollars?’”

Kate looked at the kitchen table covered with dirty supper dishes, trying to decide where to start. “It’s hard to believe that summer’s almost over,” she sighed as she started to stack the plates.
“I know what you mean,” Becky said. “It’s our last week of summer vacation, and we still haven’t gone to the new water park. Do you think Mom will take us there if we ask?”
“Maybe,” Kate said as she carried the plates to the sink. “But I know that Mom’s really busy this week. And we did a lot of fun things this summer. We just didn’t go to the water park.”
Becky followed Kate back into the dining room. She leaned against the table while her sister gathered up the glasses and utensils. “Yes—if you call driving all day to get to a family reunion fun,” she muttered.
“It was fun,” said Kate. “You’re just being ornery.” She picked up four glasses and headed back to the kitchen. Becky followed.
“It was all right,” Becky agreed, “but I’ll bet we’re the only two kids in our whole school who haven’t gone to the water park.”
Losing patience, Kate turned to Becky. “Will you please stop complaining and help me with the dishes?”
Rolling her eyes, Becky opened the dishwasher and was starting to load the dirty dishes, when their mom came in.
“Thank you for doing the dishes,” Mom said. “I appreciate all the work the two of you do.”
“No problem, Mom.” Kate smiled.
“Yeah,” Becky agreed. “We were just saying that it’s too bad that the summer’s almost over and we never made it to the new water park.”
“That is a shame,” Mom said. She thought for a moment, then said, “I’ll make you a deal. I have some errands to run tomorrow morning. If you two will clean the garage while I’m gone, I’ll stop and buy tickets to the water park, and we can go when I get home.”
“That would be great!” Becky exclaimed.
“It’s a deal,” Kate said.
“Cleaning the garage is a big job. Do you think you can do it without me?”
“No problem,” Becky said.
The next morning Kate jumped out of bed and ran downstairs. Mom had already left. “Good morning,” Kate greeted her grandmother.
“Good morning, dear. Are you ready for your breakfast?”
Kate nodded and followed her grandmother into the kitchen. “Becky and I are going to clean the garage. Then Mom is going to take us to the new water park.”
“That’s what your mother told me,” said Grandma. “Would you please go wake Becky.”
“Sure.”
“What’s the big hurry?” Becky grumped when Kate tried to talk her into getting up.
“We need to eat breakfast and start cleaning the garage.”
“No, we don’t. You heard what Mom said. She’s picking up the tickets while she’s out. She’s not going to tell us that we can’t go after she’s already bought the tickets.”
Kate frowned. “But we made a deal.”
“If you’re so worried, you go clean the garage. Tell Grandma that I’ll have breakfast later. Right now I need to figure out which swimming suit I want to wear.”
Kate trudged back down the stairs.
“What’s wrong?” Grandma asked.
“Becky says she’s not going to help. She thinks Mom will let us go even if we don’t clean the garage.”
“What do you think?” Grandma asked.
“We said we would clean the garage,” said Kate, “so that’s what I’m going to do.”
“Well,” said Grandma, “you’ve made your decision, and you’ll have to let Becky make hers. Sometimes we want to make other people’s decisions for them, but we can’t.”
After breakfast, Kate marched out to the garage and looked around, trying to figure out where to start. She decided to start by moving everything she needed to so that she could sweep out the leaves that had collected around the edges. At first she was angry at Becky for not helping, but soon her thoughts turned to the job that she was doing.
When Mom arrived home, Kate was organizing cans of food storage on a shelf.
“Where’s your sister?” Mom asked.
“In the house,” Kate answered.
“Isn’t she helping?”
Kate shook her head.
Just then Becky appeared in the doorway. “Hi, Mom,” she said cheerfully. “Did you get the tickets?”
“Yes I did,” said Mom. “Did you help clean the garage?”
“I was just coming to help.”
Mom shook her head. “Don’t worry about it.”
Becky looked over at Kate and smiled an I-told-you-so smile. Her smile disappeared fast when Mom added, “You can finish cleaning it while Kate and I are at the water park.”
Becky’s mouth dropped open. “What do you mean?”
“You didn’t keep your end of the bargain, so you may not come with us.”
Becky couldn’t believe her ears. “But didn’t you already buy me a ticket?”
“I bought tickets for the girls who kept their promises and cleaned the garage. Did you keep your promise?”
Becky hung her head. “No.”
“Why not?”
“I thought that you’d let me go anyway.”
“You made a choice. You’ll have to live with the consequences.”
Tears streamed down Becky’s face. “That’s not fair.”
Mom put her arms around Becky. “I know it isn’t what you want,” Mom said, “but it is fair.”
Becky watched out the living room window as the car pulled away from the house. “I blew it, Grandma,” she said.
Grandma nodded. “You made a bad choice. What you need to do now is learn from your mistake. If your mom had taken you to the water park, you would have thought that it’s all right to make promises that you don’t intend to keep. And it isn’t. Does that make sense?”
“I guess so.”
“Now, I have a deal for you, if you are interested.”
Becky looked up. “What is it?”
“If you’ll go finish up the garage, when you’re done, we’ll bake some cookies for the family.”
“Chocolate chip?”
Grandma smiled. “Chocolate chip.”
“It’s a deal,” Becky said, heading toward the garage. “And this time I mean it.”

When I was dating, I saw many scenarios where the worth of others was based on appearance. It made me sad to see how some of my friends went on fewer dates than those who seemed to fit the world’s beauty standards. And, unfortunately, in my own quest for an eternal companion, I also had my own checklist of traits—including physical ones—that I was looking for in a future husband.
Eventually, I did find someone to marry in the temple. And in the beginning, I thought we had a wonderful marriage. But I started noticing that my husband would boast to others about how he had married the prettiest girl in the room, and yet he couldn’t ever seem to say anything nice about my appearance privately. He always commented if my weight changed and told me how to do my hair and how to dress.
A few months after I had our first child, my husband unexpectedly said he wanted a divorce. I hadn’t even known something was wrong. Despite my best efforts, he couldn’t be persuaded to work on saving our marriage, and I was left a single mother.
Later, I discovered he had been involved with another woman while we were still married, and I was astounded to find that she looked just like me but was a few years younger and didn’t have any of the changes that came with carrying and delivering a baby. I began wondering why I wasn’t good enough and focusing on my physical flaws.
As I pondered the meaning of true beauty, I found a quote that contrasted with the world’s view of the matter: “Amid ‘all of the deception’ that may initially occur in dating—including always looking our best—we should remember that appearance and style ‘are essentially unessential.’”1
This helped me understand that seeing each other’s spirits, or what’s on the inside, is what is truly important in finding a spouse and is the key to loving others and ourselves. As disciples of Jesus Christ, we should be focusing on strength of character and on our identities as divine spirits.
My divorce hurt me a lot, but it also gave me a chance to reevaluate the meaning of true beauty and divine worth. If you are struggling to recognize your divine worth or that of others, consider the following tips, which helped me reframe my perspective.

When I was baptized in 1977 at the age of 10, my mother, with 8 children, was separated from my father, and we had many needs, both temporal and spiritual. The sisters of that small branch in the city of Oaxaca, Mexico, were faithful in visiting my mother to minister to her. These sisters lightened the burdens of my mother and the entire family in many ways; they were a great blessing in our lives.

Let me give you an example. A while back a young woman from another state came to live with some of her relatives in the Salt Lake City area for a few weeks. On her first Sunday she came to church dressed in a simple, nice blouse and knee-length skirt set off with a light, button-up sweater. She wore hose and dress shoes, and her hair was combed simply but with care. Her overall appearance created an impression of youthful grace.

Unfortunately, she immediately felt out of place. It seemed like all the other young women her age or near her age were dressed in casual skirts, some rather distant from the knee; tight T-shirt–like tops that barely met the top of their skirts at the waist (some bare instead of barely); no socks or stockings; and clunky sneakers or flip-flops.

One would have hoped that seeing the new girl, the other girls would have realized how inappropriate their manner of dress was for a chapel and for the Sabbath day and immediately changed for the better. Sad to say, however, they did not, and it was the visitor who, in order to fit in, adopted the fashion (if you can call it that) of her host ward.

I would like to illustrate an example of living up to our privileges. I have permission to share a valuable insight a friend gained from a conversation with Elder Bednar when he was president of Ricks College as it developed into Brigham Young University-Idaho. She asked him, "How did you handled the stress of having the prophet say, 'You are the president of a two year school. Now figure out how to make it a four year university'?"
He responded, "You are looking at that really funny. What I heard was 'You are the president of the Lord's two year college. Now He wants you to be the president of His university. Ask Him how and He will tell you'--and He did".
He shared with her a valuable pattern for receiving answers to prayer that he had been taught by Elder LeGrande Richards, and he told her that he had done this for 30 years. He opened his planner to a page with questions listed on one side. Those were the questions he needed to answer. During the day he would do everything he could to find the answers. Then, when he would pray at night, he would bring those questions to Heavenly Father. He would ask Him for the answers and promise that tomorrow he would give Heavenly Father his first and his best. Then in the morning, he would write down the answers that would come to him.[10]

I remember one time after coming back from an international trip. I had been gone for some time. My wife sat down on the arm of the chair, and I put my head on her shoulder. It was near the end of the month, and she asked me if I had completed my home teaching. I will be honest; I had other things in mind. But I went and did my home teaching. That is her training. So it was; I was beginning to learn the law of consecration.