Gospel Story Finder

On April 6, the sixteenth anniversary of the organization of the Church, rain fell all day. Brigham spent hours up to his knees in mud, helping the Saints along the road to a place called Locust Creek. There he helped to arrange wagons, pitch tents, and chop wood until all the Saints were settled in the camp. One woman who saw him in the mud, pushing and pulling to free a mired wagon, thought he looked as happy as a king, despite the challenges surrounding him.

That evening, freezing rain and hail bombarded the camp, coating it in ice. In the morning, William Clayton, Brigham’s clerk and captain of the brass band, found the camp in disarray. Many tents lay flat on the frozen ground. A fallen tree had crushed a wagon. Some men in the band were also out of provisions.13

William shared what he had with his band, although his own family had little. One of the first Saints to have practiced plural marriage, William traveled with three wives and four children. Another wife, Diantha, was still in Nauvoo, under the care of her mother. She was pregnant with her first child and in frail health, adding to William’s anxiety on the trail.

While the Claytons rested at Locust Creek with the Camp of Israel, Brigham proposed a plan to establish a way station midway across Iowa where Saints could wait out the bad weather, build cabins, and plant crops for those who would come later. Some Saints would then tend the way station while others returned to Nauvoo to guide companies across Iowa. The rest of the camp would push on with him to the Missouri River.14

On April 14, William was out all night rounding up horses and cattle that had broken loose in camp. In the morning, he needed sleep, but someone in camp received a letter mentioning Diantha and the birth of her baby. That evening, William celebrated the birth, singing and playing music with the band long into the night.

The skies were clear the next morning, and William saw better days ahead for the Camp of Israel. Sitting down with ink and paper, he wrote a hymn of encouragement for the Saints:
Come, come, ye Saints, no toil nor labor fear;
But with joy wend your way.
Though hard to you this journey may appear,
Grace shall be as your day.
’Tis better far for us to strive
Our useless cares from us to drive;
Do this, and joy your hearts will swell—
All is well! All is well!15

My grandma lives alone, and it’s sometimes hard for her to do everything by herself. One day she was trying to fix the bathroom faucet. She was lying on the floor on her back, reaching up under the counter trying to get a pipe to stop leaking. I was sitting by her, watching.
I said, “Grandma, let’s say a prayer so Heavenly Father can help you.” My grandma said that was a great idea. Grandma said the prayer. It didn’t take long for the pipes to seal up tight.
Grandma told me she was thankful for my faith. It helped her to be reminded by a little girl like me.Quinncy Dawne Kindall, age 3, with help from her grandmotherNampa, Idaho

I was born into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, baptized by my father at eight years old, and fully active in the Church throughout my youth. When I completed my mission, my next goal in life was to find a choice daughter of God whom I could marry in the temple.
But I began seeking unwholesome entertainment and giving in to temptations. I started dating outside of the Church. Gradually I began compromising my personal standards, and I became inactive in the Church. Eventually I married someone outside the Church, and our marriage later ended in divorce.
I continued to give in to temptation. Deep down, I still had a testimony and a longing to be married to someone in the temple, but I felt unworthy of those blessings. I gave up hope that I would ever marry in the temple or have children, so I buried my feelings of guilt and coped with my feelings of worthlessness by seeking worldly happiness.
One night during my thirties, I was racked with the guilt of all my moral transgressions. I fell to my knees and cried unto the Lord with godly sorrow for the sins I had committed. I promised to live the law of chastity and changed my behavior.
But that was not my only struggle. I continued to spend the next seven years wallowing in the depths of drug addiction.
I felt utterly alone and trapped in my chemical dependency. Feeling extremely sick in my head, heart, and body, I felt on the verge of death many times. I had given up all hope that I would ever be free from the chains of addiction and depression that weighed me down.
One day I was at a crossroads; I had to decide whether or not I was going to fall further into this life of addiction and try to survive living on the streets. But I knew that decision would surely lead to my death. I knew that if I didn’t choose that option, then I needed to turn my life around and return to Jesus Christ.
I found myself sitting in my truck, absolutely consumed with a debilitating fear. With my phone in my hand, I stared at my dad’s contact information. I was so soul-sick and heavy of heart that I lacked the energy to even vocalize words. I felt that if I made the call and asked for help then I would be choosing life and that if I didn’t make the call I would surely be choosing death and damnation.
We Can All Be Cleansed
“We are all sinners who can be cleansed by repentance.”
President Dallin H. Oaks, “Cleansed by Repentance,” Liahona, May 2019, 92.
It took me over an hour to muster up enough courage to finally call my dad and ask if I could come over. When I got there, my parents and I had a lengthy discussion after which my dad offered to give me a priesthood blessing.
I accepted the offer and sat down, feeling truly humble and sincerely penitent. I exercised my faith in the power of God and His priesthood. I truly sought my Heavenly Father’s help. During the blessing, my thoughts turned to Him, pleading that He would bless me with strength and power as I tried to overcome this addiction. “Please, I don’t want to live like this anymore,” I prayed silently. “Please help me climb out of this hole that I’m in. Please help me because I can’t do it on my own.”
My dad’s hands were trembling as he spoke with power and conviction while administering the priesthood blessing. He said that Satan was working hard on me to keep me from my great potential. I felt that my decisions were also keeping me from blessing and uplifting others who could benefit from me setting a righteous example and influence. The blessing also repeatedly reminded me that I have the opportunity to overcome my addictions.
I knew there is no sin I’ve committed that I cannot come back from. As President Boyd K. Packer (1924–2015) taught:
“I know of no sins connected with the moral standard for which we cannot be forgiven. … The formula is stated in forty words:
“‘Behold, he who has repented of his sins, the same is forgiven, and I, the Lord, remember them no more.
By this ye may know if a man repenteth of his sins—behold, he will confess them and forsake them’ Doctrine and Covenants 58:42–43].”1
In the blessing my dad gave me, I was also blessed with power and strength to overcome my afflictions. I know my dad was truly inspired and was speaking with the authority of God.
When the blessing was over, I stood and embraced my father. We held each other, hugging for a long time. My mom joined in by putting her arms around both of us as I sobbed and sobbed into my dad’s shoulder, feeling such an overwhelming abundance of love and gratitude in my heart.
All of my feelings of hopelessness melted away. I began to feel the physical cravings of addiction and the heavy cloud of depression and inadequacy that had plagued me for so long wash away. I instantly felt a newfound gusto and enthusiasm for life and for all the possibilities for joy that I might have if I choose what is right and submit to the will of my Heavenly Father. I wanted to live with the attitude that Jesus Christ exemplified in all things: “Not my will, but thine, be done” (Luke 22:42).
I moved forward on my path toward Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ with renewed determination and strength.
The Prize Is Worth the Price of Repentance
“What does it mean to repent? We begin with a dictionary’s definition that to repent is ‘to turn from sin … to feel sorrow [and] regret.’ To repent from sin is not easy. But the prize is worth the price. Repentance needs to be done one step at a time. Humble prayer will facilitate each essential step.”
President Russell M. Nelson, “Repentance and Conversion,” Liahona, May 2007, 102.
Sometime later, the adversary continued his temptations; someone close to me kept trying to convince me to come over and drink with him. He was pressuring me with the lie that drinking isn’t a big deal as long as you’re not an alcoholic. I felt the inner struggle—on one hand I wanted to have that relationship and common ground with that person, but on the other hand I wanted to show Heavenly Father my love and gratitude by keeping the Word of Wisdom. While I was struggling with these thoughts, my phone dinged and lit up across the room. I went to see what it was—a Facebook notification with a quote from President Thomas S. Monson’s talk “Principles and Promises”:
“The Word of Wisdom … gives specific direction regarding the food we eat, and it prohibits the use of substances which are harmful to our bodies.
“Those who are obedient to the Lord’s commandments and who faithfully observe the Word of Wisdom are promised particular blessings, among which are good health and added physical stamina [see Doctrine and Covenants 89:18–21].”2
It is my testimony that Heavenly Father saw fit to send me that specific message at the exact time I was struggling. While answers may not always come that directly and we should always seek to follow the commandments, I was grateful for that blessing. I knew what my decision needed to be and the course I needed to keep following in my life. I needed to confess and forsake my sins and continue to turn away from all ungodliness. I needed to become sanctified through the power of Jesus Christ and His Atonement. I understood that “this life is the time for [me] to prepare to meet God” (Alma 34:32) and to “prove [myself] herewith, to see if [I] will do all things whatsoever the Lord [my] God shall command [me]” (Abraham 3:25). I understood that this is the time to overcome my physical addictions, while I still have a mortal body. And I understood that I needed to show Heavenly Father a mighty change of heart (see Mosiah 5:2; see also Alma 5:12–14) and “have no more disposition to do evil, but to do good continually” (Mosiah 5:2).
Through repentance (including working with my priesthood leaders), followed by every righteous decision I’ve made since then, I have opened myself to the doors of heaven and allowed Heavenly Father to pour out His blessings upon me.
A few months after my change of heart, my future wife, Malaina, came into my life and our courtship began. I was grateful to now be ready for our future together. Dating Malaina was really like a fairy-tale dream come true! Both of us had been hurt by past relationships, and we found love and understanding in each other. We both wanted with all our hearts to be worthy of a temple marriage. Six months after we started dating, we were sealed in the Seattle Washington Temple.
Heavenly Father blessed me with a loving wife who understands the power of Jesus Christ’s Atonement and what it means to be cleansed through repentance. Malaina loves me for the man I am today and not for the mistakes of my past. Her personal testimony and love of the Savior continually gives me strength and a desire to fulfill the full measure of my creation. She is truly the companion I always dreamed of having, and together we’ve been blessed with two children.
I find it amazing how much my life has turned around for the better in just a few short years. I feel that to have risen out of the hole I was once in to where I am now is truly a miracle. It’s my personal testimony that through sincere repentance and faith in Jesus Christ all things are possible! I am living proof of that.
Our Savior Stands Ready to Cleanse Us
“We must not ‘procrastinate the day of [our] repentance’ until death, Amulek taught (Alma 34:33), because the same spirit that has possessed our body in this life—whether the Lord’s or the devil’s—‘will have power to possess [our] body in that eternal world’ (Alma 34:34). Our Savior has the power and stands ready to cleanse us from evil. Now is the time to seek His help to repent of our wicked or unseemly desires and thoughts to be clean and prepared to stand before God at the Final Judgment.”
President Dallin H. Oaks, “Cleansed by Repentance,” Liahona, May 2019, 94.

Quorum members still talk about the time they touched down in a remote pasture to change crew members and found themselves right next to two campers who were slumbering peacefully in sleeping bags. The crew quietly made the transfer and, without a word, were off again. Awakened finally by the roar of the burners as the balloon lifted, the sleepers rolled over in time to see a huge balloon hanging in the sky above them. They may still be talking about the fantastic “dream” they both had.

Fifteen-year-old Daniel Hunt has a hard time hanging on to a hairbrush. A few years ago when his older brother Lamar went on a mission to Mexico, Lamar “borrowed” Daniel’s new brush—for two years. When he returned, Daniel happened to have a new brush again. This time Lamar “borrowed” it when he went away to college.
“Now it’s turned into a joke,” says Daniel. “When Lamar comes home he’ll say, ‘Oh look! Daniel got me a new brush.’ It’s pretty funny. Lamar can always make me laugh.”

Ever wonder how we come up with the Mormonads? The Mormonad on page 13 started when we were trying to think of something that represented just how dangerous pornography is. We remembered seeing photos of crocodiles with just their eyes showing above water. The words Just Looking? seemed to fit exactly.
What was underneath? Of course, it was a big set of scary teeth that can clamp onto to you and not let go—a good illustration for what pornography can do.
We gave the idea to our designer, who sent a photographer to the zoo to take a photo of ominous crocodile eyes. Then he used his computer skills to make the teeth visible underwater and to make them bigger and more vicious than reality. We thought it made a great Mormonad that gives you something to think about.

Shortly after I returned from my mission, my stake president asked me to interpret for Elder Hartman Rector Jr., then of the Seventy, who had come to Mendoza, Argentina, to preside over a stake conference. These marvelous opportunities have continued over the years. I interpreted for President Thomas S. Monson and other General Authorities during the 11 dedicatory sessions of the Buenos Aires Argentina Temple.
During four of those sessions, I read the dedicatory prayer in Spanish from the pulpit in the celestial room. My voice broke up several times because of my emotions; tears filled my eyes and flowed down my face. I was reading the inspired prayers and promises for my country from Heavenly Father, who lives and reveals His will, just as He did 12 years earlier through my mission president when I accepted the challenge to learn English.
I also interpreted for the prophet, President Gordon B. Hinckley, during the four dedicatory sessions of the Montevideo Uruguay Temple and the four dedicatory sessions of the Asunción Paraguay Temple.
It’s difficult for me to explain how sacred those moments were for me when I stood alongside prophets, seers, and revelators in the Lord’s house. I felt somewhat like Peter, James, and John when they had the amazing experience of seeing Jesus transfigured. Peter expressed my feelings when he told Jesus, “Lord, it is good for us to be here” (Matt. 17:4).

“It’s not like we were on a date, Bishop,” said Paul. “We were just hanging out.” Fifteen-year-old Paul was trying to explain why he was having moral problems with a young lady whom he had never “dated.” When the bishop spoke with the young lady, she, like Paul, failed to grasp the seriousness of what they had done because, after all, they weren’t “dating.”
Young Latter-day Saints know the guidelines for dating. Most can recite them by memory: don’t date until age 16, date in groups, and only date those who share your same high standards. But more and more LDS teens aren’t dating in the traditional sense. Sure, they may attend a few proms or other formal dances at school, but most young people today prefer to just hang out. “We just get together at someone’s house,” one teenager explains, “and watch videos, play games, or talk. No one asks anyone. Word just spreads that we’re getting together and everyone comes.” Another said, “Sometimes we pile into cars and just drive around. It’s fun.”
Of course hanging out can be fun. It’s casual and informal. There’s no pressure, and it takes very little preparation. Most parents and Church leaders are happy to see young people gather with positive friends and stay in groups. Such activities can promote feelings of acceptance and inclusion that are necessary and good. However, the casualness and lack of accountability that accompany hanging out can sometimes open the door to problems and put young people in situations where their safety—both physical and spiritual—is in jeopardy.
As a bishop in a BYU student ward, I asked some of the young people I work with for their advice. Is it possible to hang in there with gospel standards and covenants while hanging out with friends? Here are their responses and suggestions:
Plan activities in advance. Josh Smith from San Antonio, Texas, says, “I know it takes a little effort, but it really is better if your friends know what they are going to do. Say, ‘Hey, we’re going to make some cookies and deliver them, or we’re going to play volleyball.’ Just so everyone isn’t sitting around saying, ‘So, what are we going to do now?’” Josh is right. It’s easy to go with the flow, but if we are not careful the flow usually takes us in only one direction—down. Dustin Coffman from Lake Charles, Louisiana, says, “Everyone finds it harder to resist inappropriate videos, music, and activities when such things are thrown at us at the last minute and we haven’t thought about what we could do instead.”

1. It was two days before Christmas in Sharon, Vermont. The sharp features of houses, trees, and fences were softened and rounded by a heavy blanket of snow.
2. Near midnight the scattered farm homes were dark—except for the Smith’s, where a single lamp shining through a bedroom window made a checkered pattern on the snow outside. Although it was Christmastime, a light that late at night was unusual.
3. Something wonderful had happened on that twenty-third night of December 1805; a baby who would become a prophet had been born.
4. The next morning when Alvin and Hyrum, oldest of the children, saw a neighbor coming to visit, they plowed through the drifts to meet him and shouted …
5. “We have a new baby!”
“It’s a boy!”
6. Trudging back to the house, the trio waved at little sister Sophronia who was watching them.
7. Father Smith came to the door and let them in …
8. Inside, the baby was sleeping peacefully in his mother’s arms.
9. “Well what do you know … a baby boy!”
“We’re so pleased! He’ll be named Joseph after his father.”
10. There were no telephones, just neighbors to pass the word along.
“Another boy for the Smiths.”
“They can always use another hand on the farm.”
11. Mother Lucy stroked the soft baby hair and even though he looked now like any other baby, she dreamed that someday he would be a leader, a mighty man.
12. But she could not have guessed that this tiny Joseph would restore the Church of Jesus Christ and that millions would follow his teachings.

I have seen the law of the harvest fulfilled in my own family.
Some years ago I was visiting family, when the bishop asked me to conclude the sacrament service. As I was coming down from the stand, a woman approached me with her seven children and introduced herself as Sister Rebecca Guzman.
She asked, “Elder Rasband, do you know Rulon and Verda Rasband?”
I beamed and replied, “They are my parents.”
You can see where this is going. With Rebecca’s permission, who is here with family in the Conference Center, I share her family’s story.
My parents, Elder Rulon and Sister Verda Rasband, were serving as a senior couple in the Florida Fort Lauderdale Mission. They were proselyting and by divine guidance knocked on the door of Rebecca’s home. She was just a teenager and loved listening to the music of the Osmonds, in particular our friend Donny—who is here with us today. She had listened to their media interviews and learned they were members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. She felt there was something different about them, and thinking it might be their religion, Rebecca spent two years researching the Church’s beliefs in the school library. So, when a kindly-looking couple knocked on her family’s door and introduced themselves as Latter-day Saint missionaries, she was taken back.
“My mother told me to get rid of them,” Rebecca later wrote, “but my heart said, ‘No.’ I looked into their faces, and I felt so much warmth and love. The memory still brings tears to my eyes and deep emotion to my heart.”
Rebecca invited them in, and my missionary parents shared a message with her, her two younger sisters, and, despite her objections, her mother.
Rebecca described to me: “Both your parents were wonderful in explaining any questions we had. I can still see their faces as if there was light surrounding them. We always hugged your mother when she left, and she always made a point of helping my mother feel comfortable and respected. Your father always had a sparkle in his eyes as he was teaching us about Jesus Christ. He tried to include my father in discussions and eventually won him over. My father was a chef at a local country club and started cooking dinners for your parents, including making your father’s favorite, key lime pie.”
When Elder and Sister Rasband asked Rebecca and her family to read the Book of Mormon, Rebecca did so in five days. She wanted to be baptized immediately, but the other members of her family were not ready. After four months, Rebecca insisted she be baptized and join the true Church. She recalled, “Every fiber of my soul knew it was true.” On April 5, 1979, missionaries baptized 19-year-old Rebecca, her mother, and two sisters. My father was a witness at the baptism.
When I met Rebecca and her family at church, we took a photograph of her family with me. I took it home to my elderly mother, and she held it close to her heart. Then she said to me, “Ronnie, this is one of the happiest days of my life.”

Losing one of my brothers while he was serving faithfully in the Abidjan West Mission was the beginning of gloom and dark clouds for my family. Things began to go badly in all facets of our lives. My maternal family members, who are not members, made lots of allegation against my parents but that never moved my parents, because of their unwavering faith in the Savior. My dad would say “it is the will of the Lord and what the Lord sees fit for His children, He does that for them”. Having a perfect knowledge of the plan of salvation gave us an assurance that surely, we would meet and be happy with my brother again after this test of mortality.
A few months later, I made a decision that raised eyebrows all around me. I decided to serve a full-time mission too. My decision to serve came as a blow to a greater part of my family and my closest friends. Most of them, if not 100 percent of them, counselled me not to, but my desire to serve the Lord and humanity was not thwarted because I knew what foundation I was built upon and my parent’s trust and support kept me going.
Amid the impending situation, I felt so different from everyone else and I remembered the talk by President Monson in which he quotes an old Primary song: “Dare to be a Mormon; Dare to stand alone. Dare to have a purpose firm; Dare to make it known”.1
This ultimately drove me to obtain my patriarchal blessing, and in it I realized the Lord has a greater work for me and that it can be accomplished successfully only if I exercise unyielding faith in Him. That helped me press on to pursue His course.
Currently, I am serving in one of the greatest missions (if not the greatest) and this brings me joy every single day. Whenever I share the restored gospel to God’s children, bear an honest and uplifting testimony, encourage them to have faith, repent, and prepare to make covenants, I feel the same joy that Lehi felt with his family in the Book of Mormon (see 1 Nephi 8:12).
Ever since I began this journey, I strive to develop the faith to reap because having just the faith to thrust in our sickles is not enough. The faith to reap is an unwavering faith in our Savior, Jesus Christ. It’s surely unyielding. Jacob, in the Book of Mormon, also admonished us “that we truly can command in the name of Jesus and the very trees obey us, or the mountains, or the waves of the sea” (Jacob 4:6).
These are miracles that come as we exercise this faith in Jesus Christ. I know for a surety that we do not require perfection to reap but all we need is persistence, genuine intentions, and an unfailing determination.
My parent’s faith in Jesus Christ has been the backbone and driving force for me in being a full-time missionary and it gives me the strength each day to press forward, remain valiant, and return with honor because I know who I am, what I stand for and whose team I play for.

Mi Sook tossed her long black braid across her shoulder. Slipping out of her shoes, she yanked open the front door to her apartment. “Mama, I’m home!”
The stifling Korean summer heat followed her into the apartment. A battered fan purred in a corner. Grandmama sat in front of it, her eyes closed as she nodded in the heat.
“I’m glad you’re home,” Mi Sook’s mother said as she came from behind the paper screen that divided their one room from the nook that was the kitchen. “Grandmama isn’t feeling well in this heat, so you must help me with dinner. Please go to the roof and bring down some kimchi (spiced, pickled vegetables).”
Mi Sook sighed. It’s so hot on the roof! she thought, wiping her brow. But heat makes the kimchi ripe. She licked her lips, anxious for dinner.
The hall was deserted as she climbed the stairs to the roof. Waves of heat rippled the moist air. Mi Sook loved Seoul, especially the way it looked from the roof. Encircled by mountains, its buildings and markets created an ocean of color.
She found her family’s kimchi pot sweltering with others in a corner. Prying open the lid, she breathed in the tangy scent.
“Hello, Mi Sook. It looks like you’re getting ready for dinner.”
Mi Sook started, looking up. A pair of wide blue eyes smiled down at her. “Sister Miller! I didn’t see you there!”
Sister Miller stepped forward toward the kimchi pot. Her nose wrinkled as she bent down and took a sniff, then her blue eyes turned watery. Mi Sook smiled. She wasn’t sure the missionary liked what she smelled.
“It is hot on the roof!” Mi Sook scooped kimchi into the pot her mother had sent with her. “Why do you stand up here?”
“I’m waiting for a friend,” Sister Miller said, running a hand through her damp hair. Drops of sweat beaded her brow. “I have to wave at her when she gets off the bus so that she can see where we live. We’re teaching her about our church, and she’s coming to dinner and for family home evening tonight.”
Mi Sook watched the sun inch toward the western horizon. “Family home evening? What’s that?”
Sister Miller’s eyes brightened. “Family home evening is a wonderful thing, Mi Sook. Heavenly Father knows how important families are, so He has told us to put aside one night each week for our families to be together. It’s a time to learn about the gospel, play games, laugh, and even have refreshments!”
Mi Sook smiled. She didn’t know much about the gospel Sister Miller always talked about, or about the church she loved, but Mi Sook thought the idea of spending time like that with her family was great. “Family home evening sounds nice, Sister Miller.”
Sister Miller nodded. “It is, Mi Sook.” Then she grinned. “How would you like to join us tonight for family home evening?”
A city bus rattled to a stop below them. People poured out as Sister Miller craned her neck, then waved at a young woman who looked up from the crowd.
“I’ll ask my mother,” Mi Sook said as she headed toward the stairway with her kimchi. “I’d like to learn more about this family home evening!”
That night, Mi Sook could hardly finish her dinner. She gulped down her rice and kimchi, then hurried to help her mother clean up the dishes.
Grandmama smiled when Mother told her that Mi Sook was going to the missionaries’ apartment for a party. “How nice,” Grandmama whispered, nodding her head. “Those missionaries are happy girls.”
Mi Sook enjoyed family home evening that night. Sister Miller and Sister Chadwick sang songs, showing Mi Sook and their friend how to read the music in an English hymnbook. The missionaries told a flannel-board story about a young man named Joseph who became a prophet. Mi Sook was excited, she’d never heard such a story before.
Sister Miller told them how important families were. “Heavenly Father wants all families to be together forever,” she said. Then the sisters sang another song, one about families being together. Mi Sook didn’t understand all the English words, but her heart was happy.
“Here, Mi Sook,” Sister Chadwick said after the closing prayer, “have a brownie. I made them this afternoon with the chocolate my mother sent me from home!”
Mi Sook smiled as the dark, sugary brownie flooded her mouth. Its sweetness overwhelmed her. She couldn’t take another bite.
“It’s a little sweet isn’t it?” Sister Chadwick looked at her and laughed. “I guess you’re not used to sugar, as we are. Why don’t you wrap it up in this napkin and take the rest home.”
Mi Sook smiled. “I may not be used to your brownies,” she said, “but I like your family home evening very much. It makes me feel good inside. And happy, like you. Thank you for inviting me tonight.”
As Mi Sook walked toward the door, she noticed pictures of the missionaries’ families sitting on a small table. She looked at a picture of Sister Miller with her family. “Will my family be together forever?” Mi Sook asked.
“They certainly can be, Mi Sook,” Sister Miller replied, wrapping her arm around Mi Sook’s shoulder.
“And the story you told tonight, about the boy Joseph—that’s an important story isn’t it?”
Sister Miller nodded.
Mi Sook smiled as she opened the door and slipped into her shoes. “I thought so. And family home evening is important too. May I bring Mother and Grandmama to family home evening next week?”
“We’d love to have all of you come,” Sister Miller and Sister Chadwick both told her.
Mi Sook smiled as she walked down the hall. She was sure that Mother and Grandmama would enjoy family home evening and learning about being a forever family.

We started our marriage with an eternal perspective, and we felt that meant we should not postpone or limit the children waiting to come to our family. My husband continued his tertiary (undergraduate) studies as our family grew. By the time he entered the workforce full-time, we had five children. I continued my studies part-time so I could care for our children at home. I look back fondly on those early years. They were awesome! We were in a little apartment with two children under 15 months, living on our meager student allowance and eating a lot of mince (hamburger).
I think of those early years as our pioneer years—we were crossing the “plains” of tertiary study, starting our family, and living on limited financial resources. I feel akin—but only to a small degree—to what one of the survivors of the Martin handcart company said of their journey: “Everyone of us came through with the absolute knowledge that God lives for we became acquainted with him in our extremities.”1
In the eyes of the world, what we chose to do in those initial years of marriage did not make sense. Postponing my graduation to have children, living on one income, and sacrificing some luxuries may have seemed foolish. But the Lord told Isaiah:
“My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord.
“For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts” (Isaiah 55:8–9).
Sacrificing worldly goals to follow Heavenly Father’s will for our family has been a humbling blessing in our lives.
We read in the Doctrine and Covenants that those who “are willing to observe their covenants by sacrifice … are accepted of [the Lord].
“For I, the Lord, will cause them to bring forth as a very fruitful tree which is planted in a goodly land, by a pure stream, that yieldeth much precious fruit” (D&C 97:8–9). Our five children are our precious fruit. They are undoubtedly our greatest blessings.

I yanked the middle drawer right out of my dresser and rifled through it, hurling all the rejected clothing to the floor. It was school colors day, I was late, and I couldn’t find my blue sweatshirt. I finally saw a blue sleeve poking out of the bottom drawer, and I grabbed the wadded sweatshirt. After stretching it to try to pull out the wrinkles, I threw it over my head and rushed to the front door.
“Bye, Mom,” I said, kissing her on the cheek and racing down the driveway toward the bus stop. From the sidewalk, I could see the last child boarding the bus.
Someone must have told the bus driver and everyone else that I was coming because they all turned to watch me run to the bus. Embarrassed, I slunk into the first available seat without ever looking up.
At school, I quickly realized I had forgotten my homework. The night before I had struggled through a math problem four times before figuring it out, and now I had left it at home where it would do me no good at all!
By the time school was over, I was miserable. I trudged home from the bus stop, rehearsing my troubles of the day. But then a happier thought entered my mind: Maybe Mom made some of her delicious cookies. The chewy ones with the crisscross marks on top. Warm. With milk. I couldn’t wait!
My happy thoughts quickly disappeared when I walked into the kitchen. My little brother—not my mother—had been busy in the kitchen! There was a white powder trail from the flour bin to the middle of the floor, where he sat with a big mixing bowl full of “bread dough.” “What are you doing?” I asked.
“I’m making bread—just like Mom,” he answered, throwing a handful onto the floor and “kneading” it.
On another day, I might have found my brother’s “cooking” funny. But not today—I was angry. I wanted to be greeted by warm cookies, not by a little brother making a big mess!
Just then Mom walked in and saw the disaster. “What’s going on?” she asked. “Michelle, why are you just watching him make such a mess?” Her voice got louder. “And your room is a disaster! Go to your room and don’t come out until it’s clean.”
I slammed the door to my room and flopped onto the bed. It isn’t fair! I didn’t make a mess in the kitchen. Why am I in trouble? I’m the one having a bad day. Nobody cares about me. I wiped the angry tears from my eyes. I could hear the twins crying. Slamming my door must have woken them from their naps.
I looked around my room. Mom was right—it really was a disaster! There was a drawer on the floor, and I had scattered clothes everywhere while looking for my blue sweatshirt that morning. And my brother must have invaded my toys, because they were scattered around the room, too. It was a mess. And it wasn’t fair! That brother of mine is a problem, I thought. Why can’t he stay out of my stuff? I decided to rearrange my room so he couldn’t reach my toys anymore.
I pulled everything off the shelves and out of my desk drawers—toys, papers, crayons, everything! Everything of any interest to a little brother was going to be moved out of his reach. As I rummaged through my closet, looking for things that needed to be protected, I found my dinosaur drawing kit.
Meanwhile, Mom had gone to the twins’ room to settle them down again. When she returned to the kitchen, she found my brother trying to clean up his mess. Dragging a wet towel in the dough, he had smeared paste from the middle of the room to the sink.
After Mom finally got the kitchen under control, she came to my room, where she found me sitting on an even bigger pile of stuff, playing with my dinosaur drawing kit. I knew right away that I was in big trouble. Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth to say something. Instead, she started to cry and left, looking totally defeated.
I felt awful. Everything had gone wrong—my sweatshirt, the bus, my homework, my little brother—and now Mom was upset with me. I felt all alone. Not knowing what else to do, I knelt beside my bed and prayed. “Heavenly Father, please help me. Help make everything all right. Help my mom be happy. Help her to love me even though I have a messy room. Please, Heavenly Father, please help me.” Still kneeling beside my bed, I buried my face in my pillow and sobbed.
Soon I heard Mom in the hall. I sat up and grabbed a shirt to act like I was putting it away—I didn’t want to get in trouble again for not working.
When Mom came into my room, her eyes were red and swollen, even worse than mine. She quietly asked if I had been praying. I hesitated because I knew I was supposed to be cleaning, but I nodded yes.
Mom cleared a spot beside me, sat down, and put her arms around me. “I love you,” she said. “I’m sorry I was upset with you. I’m sorry you’re not having a very good day. I’ve had a hard day myself, and I was praying for help when the Spirit whispered that you were praying for me, too.”
“Really?” I asked. “Heavenly Father heard my prayer, and the Holy Ghost told you?”
“That’s right,” Mom said, smiling.
I started to cry again, but this time I cried because I knew Somebody cared. Heavenly Father had seen my awful day, and He understood that I needed love more than I needed a clean room. And even though I didn’t get warm cookies, I felt a real warmth inside, a comforting knowledge that I am never alone.

Jeff Daniels pushed open the car door. The clean, cool night air poured in and drenched him with freshness. He paused for a moment and then stepped out onto the curb in front of his home and breathed deeply. Even outside the car, the faint odor of alcohol lingered.
Nathan Brinser, who was driving, leaned over and looked out the open door at him. “Hey, Daniels, why don’t you loosen up a bit?” he invited good-naturedly.
A troubling emptiness rested in the pit of Jeff’s stomach, but he managed to shrug indifferently and grin.
Jeff found himself grinning more and more these days. Not out of any sense of amusement. It was quite simply his best answer to so many things now. If his beliefs or good behavior were challenged or ridiculed, he could always answer with an uncommitted shrug and grin.
“One lousy beer isn’t going to kill you,” Nathan laughed.
Jeff stared down at his friend. Two years earlier neither one of them would have suspected this kind of conversation would be going on between them. He and Nathan had been friends since kindergarten, and over the years they had been inseparable. But now Jeff felt like a stranger around Nathan.
“You going to KC’s party tomorrow night?” Nathan asked. “His folks are going to be out of town all weekend. I think half the senior class will be there.”
Jeff contemplated an excuse.
“And don’t tell me you’ve got to study,” Nathan cut into his thoughts.
Jeff grinned again. He didn’t like to go to the parties. He had been to a few but he’d never been comfortable, always having to explain why he didn’t join in. He was tired of making up excuses or dumping the blame on his parents. He took a deep breath. “Yeah, I guess I’ll go,” he said, unable to think of anything else.
“Don’t sound so excited,” Nathan grumbled. “If you don’t want to go, you don’t have to.” Nathan was quiet for a moment and then spoke without facing Jeff. “You know, some of the guys were talking. I can’t blame them. Whenever you go with us, you’re all depressed. Everyone else is having a good time and you’re just sitting there looking down.”
“Hey, I said I want to go,” said Jeff, falling back on his grin.
A few minutes later Nathan’s taillights faded into the blackness, and Jeff started up the walk to the door. After having spent most of the evening in the car, sitting through a drive-in movie, it felt good to be out in the open where everything he breathed was clean and fresh.
He thought about the two six-packs KC had managed to get. Jeff had declined as the cans were passed out, and the others didn’t seem to mind. It meant more for them. But before the night was over Jeff could sense the annoyance his abstinence caused.
KC had been especially irritated. “Come on, you can still go to church on Sunday,” he had said sarcastically.
What would it hurt just once? Jeff thought as he walked up to the house. Some of those other guys are members of the Church and they’re all “active.” Why do I have to be the one that stands out?
“Oh, you’re home,” his dad called to him, as he stepped through the front door. “I thought I heard a car pull up. I just got home myself. Thought I’d fix a sandwich. You hungry?”
“Not really.”
“Want some juice?”
“Juice sounds good.” Jeff sighed heavily as he walked into the kitchen, pulled out a chair and dropped into it. His father poured him a glass of orange juice and pushed it across the table. Jeff took a couple of sips. “Where’ve you been?” he asked his dad. “It’s past 12.”
Brother Daniels finished chewing a bite of his bologna sandwich and shook his head. “Bishop Taylor asked if I’d go with him to visit a family in the ward.”
“At this time of night?”
“They’ve been having some family problems.” Brother Daniels shook his head and stared at the table. “I kept thinking while we were there, If they just followed the counsel of the Church, they could avoid so much of this.”
“The Church doesn’t fix everything.”
“Oh, members of the Church have problems too. Everybody does. But if you’re doing what the Lord has asked you to do you can work through those problems. There’s never a problem that’s insurmountable,” Brother Daniels said resolutely.
Jeff looked over at his father and wished that he could really believe that, but right then following the teachings of the Church didn’t seem to be the solution to his problem. That seemed to be the cause.
“How was the movie?” his dad asked.
“Oh, it was all right, I guess.”
Brother Daniels stared at his son for a moment. “What’s the matter?”
Jeff shook his head. “Nothing.”
“Are you sure?”
Jeff nodded again, stood, finished his juice in a few gulps and turned to go. “What’s wrong, Jeff?” his father asked again.
“What makes you think anything’s wrong?”
Brother Daniels set down his half-eaten sandwich and brushed some bread crumbs off the table. “I was just wondering,” he said. “You’ve seemed a little troubled lately.” He looked at Jeff, and reached over to push the chair out again so Jeff could sit down. “Sometimes talking helps clear your mind.”
Jeff wasn’t sure he wanted to talk, or of what he would say even if he decided to speak. While he debated, however, he dropped back into his chair. It was hard to begin. He wasn’t sure his father could understand. He wasn’t sure he understood.
“What would you do if I’d been drinking tonight?” he burst out suddenly. “I wasn’t,” he added quickly, “but what would you do if I had been?”
Brother Daniels looked across the table at him, studying his face. “I’d try to help you,” he said slowly. “Can I help you?”
Jeff shook his head. “Probably not. You know, you’re always hearing these stories about some Mormon guy going to a party or something and everybody and his dog is drinking. Everybody except this one Mormon guy. Somebody offers him a drink and he turns them down and later everybody rushes up to him and tells him how much they admire him for standing by his beliefs.”
Jeff looked across the table at his dad. “Do you know how many parties I’ve been to where everybody’s been drinking? Enough of them,” he said bitterly. “And do you know how many times somebody’s come up to me and said, ‘Gee, Daniels, it’s sure great that you don’t let down your standards?’ Not once. They look at me like I’m some kind of freak. Those stories about Mormon guys being so good and having everyone look up to them—they just don’t happen.
“I’m just tired of feeling like a freak,” Jeff grumbled. “I thought if you did everything you were supposed to, you were happy. I don’t feel happy—just weird!”
“Maybe you need some different friends.”
Jeff shook his head. “Nathan Brinser goes to church every Sunday. His dad’s in the elders quorum presidency. KC Wells is active. His dad’s on the high council. Every Sunday they get up and bless the sacrament like nothing ever happened.”
“They’re not fooling everyone, Jeff.”
“But they’ll get away with it. When they turn 19, they’ll march into the bishop’s office, confess everything, and end up going on missions. They’ll repent and everything will be fine. That’s part of the whole plan. It makes me wonder, Well, what’s wrong with that? Why can’t I go out and have fun? I can repent as well as they can.”
Brother Daniels thought for a long time. “There are two things that come to mind. First, once you get involved in anything like that, it’s always hard to turn away from it. Maybe you’d get caught in the snare and never get out of it.”
“They’ll get out of it,” Jeff insisted.
“The second thing. Because of Christ’s love and mercy, he suffered for each of us and made it possible for us to be clean, but his plan was never intended to be used as a plaything.
“Repentance wasn’t provided so that we could go out and sin carelessly, willfully, always with the idea in mind that sometime we’d resort to repentance to clean up our lives. Christ didn’t go through the terrible agony of Gethsemane just so we could all go out and eat, drink and be merry, and then scrub ourselves with repentance like it was a common bar of soap.
“Those who think they can use repentance in that way are making a mockery of the whole atonement.”
“But, Dad, I’m tired of being the different one. Where are the good kids my own age?”
Brother Daniels pondered a moment. “You remember the prophet Elijah, the one who had the contest with the priests of Baal?” Jeff nodded. “Well, Elijah lived in Israel, but at that time wickedness was rampant. The chosen people had turned to idolatry, adultery, and every other degrading act.
“Elijah felt a lot like you. He went to the Lord and said, ‘I’m the only one in Israel that’s remained true.’” Brother Daniels smiled and shook his head. “He was wrong. The Lord told him that there were 7,000 who had not bowed down to Baal, who had kept themselves clean. You’re not alone, Jeff. There are those who feel just as you do. I don’t know if there are 7,000 or 70,000 or whatever, but they’re there.”
All during the next day Jeff debated whether he should go to the party at KC Wells’s place that night. In the midst of his internal debate, he felt prompted to pray. At first he ignored the feeling, but it persisted until he went to his room and dropped to his knees. He began to whip through a prayer, but it was empty. The words were going nowhere. He paused and remained on his knees just thinking.
Suddenly he was bombarded with feelings, fears, and frustrations. He struggled to sort through them, and as he struggled, the prayer came as a humble plea for help. For one of the first times in his life he was talking to the Lord, not just mouthing words or repeating worn-out phrases, but telling the Lord how he felt.
Tears burned under his lashes, and he pleaded for something to help him through. In the middle of his prayer an all-encompassing warmth filled him. For one of the first times in his life he felt the purest kind of love he had ever experienced and knew that someone really cared about what Jeff Daniels was doing, what he was going through.
“Will you be out late?” Brother Daniels asked Jeff as he was leaving for KC’s party.
“I doubt it. I’d decided not to go, but I got to thinking that maybe I should. I don’t know why. I’ll be all right, though,” said Jeff as he headed out the door.
KC’s house was full when Jeff pulled up. Cars lined the street, music was playing, and kids were spilling out into the backyard. It did look like half the senior class was there.
He wandered around to the backyard and found a lawn chair from which he could watch the others come and go, laugh and talk. Everyone was munching chips and sipping drinks. No one seemed to notice him, and he had the impression that his presence made no difference to those who were there. There was a time when that would have bothered him, but right then he didn’t care.
“Hey, I was wondering if you’d show,” Nathan said dropping into the lawn chair next to him. “I should have known that you’d come and hide yourself. You been here long?”
“Ten minutes or so.”
“It’s a little tame,” Nathan said, nodding toward the activity about them. “KC had to be careful. His folks know he’s having a party, and a couple of the neighbors are supposed to wander through to make sure everything’s okay. But that doesn’t mean he didn’t arrange a few surprises.”
The two continued talking until Nathan nudged Jeff with his elbow, “Hey, is that Kristi Case?” He nodded across the yard at a girl in a yellow sweater. Jeff recognized the girl from his English class. She had always been quiet, a little on the shy side. She was not grabbingly beautiful, but she was pretty.
Jeff watched her for a moment. She laughed and talked with the others but seemed nervous. She wasn’t the kind of girl he thought would show up at something like this. He felt sorry for her.
A few minutes later Jeff watched as KC approached Kristi. They talked and as they did Kristi happened to catch Jeff staring at her. For a moment their gazes locked; then she looked away. Jeff turned back to Nathan, feeling guilty for staring.
“Hey, Jeff,” a voice called. KC came toward him, holding Kristi’s arm. “You know Kristi Case, don’t you?”
Jeff nodded, “We have English together.”
“Great!” I thought maybe you could help her have a good time, show her around. Why don’t you get her a drink. Start on the punch in the dining room, and get one for yourself too. Brent Tate can mix one that will wake you up.”
“No thanks,” Jeff said, “I really don’t want a drink.”
“Why not?” KC demanded.
Jeff could feel Nathan’s and Kristi’s eyes on him. Any other time he would have been groping frantically for an excuse, some place to dump the blame. But right then he didn’t want an excuse. And the last thing he wanted to do was grin.
He remembered his conversation with his father the night before. Why had he always insisted on being different? He had never really answered that question for himself before, but right then he wanted the answer. And he wanted the others to hear it too. “I don’t drink,” he said. “You know that, KC.”
His words shocked him as much as anyone, but as soon as they were out, he felt a sense of control he had never known before. The same assuring warmth he had felt while praying seemed to come over him.
“You mean you’re not old enough to have a sip now and then?” KC asked sarcastically.
“I’m just not interested. I guess I never have been,” said Jeff.
KC’s eyes narrowed as though he had been insulted. “If you’re too good for this party why’d you bother to show up?”
Jeff smiled, but there was no apology in the expression. “I don’t know,” he said, and leaving the others standing there he stood up and started around the house.
As he walked through the shadows to his car, he knew he was alone, but there was a feeling of triumph in what he had just done. He wondered why he hadn’t taken that simple stand months earlier.
“Jeff,” a girl called to him. He stopped and looked behind him. It was Kristi. “Are you leaving now?” she asked.
“Yeah, I’m leaving.”
“Could I—maybe—catch a ride with you?”
“Sure. Come on.”
For several minutes after Kristi explained where she lived, they rode in silence. Then unexpectedly she asked, “Are you a Mormon?”
No one had ever asked Jeff that before. He had always just assumed his religion was obvious. “Yeah, I’m Mormon,” he said.
“I always thought you were, but …”
“But what?”
“I guess I was just shocked to see you there tonight. I’d never gone to a party like that, and I didn’t know what to expect. But I wasn’t expecting you. You really don’t drink?”
“No, I don’t drink.”
“Have you ever?”
Jeff laughed. “What is this, the Inquisition?”
Kristi smiled, “I’m sorry. I was just curious.”
“No, I haven’t,” said Jeff. He was glad he could say that.
“I’ve seen you around school, and I thought you were—different. But when I saw you at the party—well, I thought you were just like all the others.”
“The others?”
“Oh, lately I’ve wondered if maybe I was the odd one, if there was anybody around that really …” she hesitated. “Well, that really believed in the gospel. Do you ever feel like that?”
Jeff smiled; then laughed. It felt so good not to grin. “I get discouraged sometimes, but I get over it.” He looked over at Kristi, “You’ll be all right,” he said with conviction.
And he knew that he would be too. His dad had been right. It didn’t matter if there were 7,000 or 70,000 who were trying to do what was right because no one, not Elijah, not Kristi, and not Jeff Daniels was ever really alone.

Just after my baptism on 31 October 1980, a friend invited me to a ward party. I said to myself, This Church is nice; they even throw a party for me. I later realized I wasn’t really the guest of honor. But at the party my friend introduced me to a young woman and told her to take good care of me. Annie Ortiz was indeed a good fellowshipper. At this time, she is still taking good care of me. We were married in 1985 and sealed in the Manila Philippines Temple.

Many people have been able to change their drug habits. A mother of three, Susan used drugs only on the weekends in an effort to hide her problem from her children. But the children found out anyway and begged her to stop. After three years, with some special help and the support of her children, particularly her seven-year-old son, she did stop. Looking back she recognized that Heavenly Father had pulled her through this and had prepared her for hearing the gospel. She said:
“The gospel changed my heart, my appearance, my attitude, and my feelings. And I learned to pray. Whenever I have a problem, I go to Heavenly Father and say, ‘Help me.’ And he sees me through it. … Now when I walk, I walk with my head high because I know Heavenly Father’s beside me every step of the way. …
“Oh, it’s a new day. I lost a lot of things by wanting to be in this drug world—I lost my apartment, my son almost died in a fire, I lost my marriage, I lost happiness completely. But I got it back. Heavenly Father gave me another chance to start again. I’m new now—brand new all inside and out.”

One day when Tommy was about eight years old, he and his grandfather were sitting on the front-porch swing. An elderly man from England lived on the same street. His name was Robert Dicks, but most of the neighbors just called him “Old Bob.” He was widowed and poor.
Old Bob came over and sat down on the porch swing with Tommy and his grandfather. He said that the small adobe house where he lived was going to be torn down. He had no family, no money, and nowhere to go.
Tommy wondered how his grandfather would respond to the sad story. His grandfather reached into his pocket and pulled out a small leather change purse. He took out a key and put it in Old Bob’s hand. “Mr. Dicks,” he said kindly, “you can move your things into that empty house of mine next door. It won’t cost you a cent, and you can stay there as long as you like. And remember, nobody is ever going to put you out again.” Tears filled Old Bob’s eyes.

Qualicum Bay, British Columbia—
Jessica and Sandra Stüssi know all about family togetherness. They live across the street from the beach in a tiny town called Qualicum Bay, in British Columbia, where their parents own and operate a resort. With the waves lapping softly on the shore, the sun setting in a crimson burst, and the family sitting outside quietly enjoying ice cream cones together, it seems like heaven on earth.
But what about the days when Jessica and Sandra are helping their mom do the resort’s laundry? What about days when they seem to be moving in several directions at once to sports practices and school activities?
Of course the Stüssis aren’t perfect, but they know that keeping their home heavenly—even when they’re doing something that’s not particularly pleasant—is partly their responsibility. And they know that living the gospel will help them create love at home. Getting up at the crack of dawn every day with their mom (she’s the seminary teacher) is an important part of their success.
“Sometimes it’s hard to have your mom as a teacher because it’s hard to have lessons from her. But it’s good too because we sort of know what to expect and she knows what we need,” says Jessica. “Also, she’s wide awake when the rest of us aren’t.”
After seminary every morning, Jessica and Sandra head to a different secondary school than the other youth in their branch, making them the only Church members there.
“Going to our school can be sort of hard,” says Sandra. “Sometimes people ask me questions [about the Church] and I don’t always know how to answer them. I just try to take things one at a time.”
It’s a tough job, being the only Latter-day Saints in the whole school, but Jessica and Sandra both say that it forces them to stick to their standards—and to stick together.
“We have to back each other up,” says Sandra.
Soon Jessica will graduate and Sandra will be on her own. But their family ties will stay strong as Jessica travels to Switzerland to live with relatives for a year.
“None of the people on my mom’s side of the family are members, so hopefully I’ll be able to teach them and bring some of them into the gospel while I’m there,” she says.

When Carol first searched for her ancestors 50 years ago—it was difficult and expensive, especially when looking for English relatives while she was living in Australia. FamilySearch has been such a blessing to her; no need now to sit and read microfilms to search out her family.
“I can remember the thrill I felt when I saw a copy of the original marriage certificate of my grandfather on a microfilm and saw his signature and that of my grandmother. I’m sure that my grandad would never have thought that one day his granddaughter would be sitting at a microfilm reader looking at that same certificate image from faraway Australia.”