Gospel Story Finder

Tonight my thoughts are about a boy somewhere in the world. He is wondering if he can do what being a priesthood holder will require of him. I had that worry when I was about 13 or 14.
I had grown up in the mission field where there was only a tiny branch, which met in my home. Then my family moved to where there were stakes and large wards and chapels and quorums of boys who all seemed to know so much more than I did about what priesthood holders do. They had in that ward a complicated pattern for passing the sacrament. I felt almost certain that I would make a mistake when my turn to pass or prepare the sacrament came.
In my fear and desperation, I remember going outside the chapel to be alone. I was worried. I prayed for help and for some assurance that I would not fail in serving God in His priesthood.
It is now many years later. I have held the Melchizedek Priesthood for more than 50 years. But in the last few days I have prayed with that same pleading for help and assurance that I will not fail in the call which has come to me to serve in the First Presidency. Others seem so much more able to serve and so much better prepared. But as I prayed this time I think I could feel an answer that was probably sent to me outside the Yalecrest Ward chapel long ago. It is the same answer you can expect to get when you face a call to serve in the priesthood which seems beyond you.
The message may come in words to your mind or in a feeling or both. But it will include at least three things to give you assurance and guidance in what you must do in this seemingly overwhelming calling.
First, the assurance will come from a memory of times Heavenly Father has helped you through dangers and difficulties. That’s happened to me in the last few days.
When I was young and still living in New Jersey, a large crowd of angry people gathered in front of our house. My mother went out to meet them, standing alone in this crowd of people who looked very dangerous to me. I couldn’t hear what she said, but after a few minutes they went away peacefully. I still remember that I had seen a miracle.
From when I was older, I have a more recent memory of a crowd of angry people I was called by the First Presidency to face who suddenly and inexplicably were touched by a spirit of calm and reconciliation.
Another time, I was sent to speak to leaders of churches in the United States and ministers of those churches who had met in Minneapolis to deal with the problem of competition among churches.
When I arrived, I found that I was assigned to be a speaker. My subject was to be: Why there was a need for a restoration of the true Church through Joseph Smith. I was a last-minute substitute for Elder Neal A. Maxwell.
When I arrived in the city the night before the meetings and looked at the program, I called President Hinckley. I told him that the meetings were to last three days, that many talks were to be given at the same time, that the crowd could choose which one to attend. I told him that I thought if I told the truth, I feared that no one would come to my second session and that I might be coming home very quickly. I asked him what he thought I should do. He said, “Use your best judgment.”
I prayed through the night. Somewhere near dawn, I was sure I was to say about the Restoration not, “This is what we believe happened to Joseph Smith and why we believe it happened,” but, “This is what happened to Joseph Smith, and this is why the Lord did it.” In the nighttime I was given no assurance of the outcome, just a clear direction—go forward.
To my amazement, after my talk the ministers lined up to speak to me. Every one of them, one after another coming to me, told essentially the same story. Each of them had met a member of the Church somewhere in their lives that they admired. Many of them said that they lived in a community where the stake president had come to the aid of not just his members but of the community in a disaster. They asked if I could take back their greeting and their thanks to people I not only didn’t know but had no hope of ever meeting.
By the end of the three days of meetings, larger and larger crowds were coming to hear the message of the Restoration of the gospel and the true Church of Jesus Christ not because they believed the message but because they had seen goodness in people’s lives—the fruits of that restoration.
As I prayed in these last few nights, those and other memories flooded back with an assurance something like this: “Haven’t I always looked after you? Think of the times I have led you beside the still waters. Remember the times I have set a table before you in the presence of your enemies. Remember, and fear no evil.” (See Psalm 23.)
So to the new deacons: remember. He has always taken care of you from your childhood. To the new quorum presidents: remember. To you fathers with children that are a challenge to you: remember, and have no fear. What is impossible for you is possible with God’s help in His service. And even when you were very small and in the years since, He has with His power and His Spirit gone before your face and been on your left hand and on your right hand when you went in His service (see D&C 84:88). You can receive assurance that God will watch over you if you pray for it in faith. I know that.
The second part of the message you will receive as you pray for help in facing a hard assignment came to me very early Friday morning. I had prayed, as you will, about overwhelming inadequacies. The answer was very clear and very direct and really a rebuke as I prayed. “Forget yourself—start praying about the people you are to serve.” That does wonders, I can testify, to bring the Holy Ghost.
But be prepared to lose track of time as you pray. You will feel love for the people you are to serve. You will feel their needs, their hopes, their hurts, and those of their families. And as you pray, the circle will grow wider than you would imagine, to perhaps people not in your quorum or your family but to those they love across the world. When you forget yourself to pray for the circle of others, your service will be extended in your heart. It will change not only your service but your heart. That is because the Father and His Beloved Son, whom you are called to serve, know and love so many people your service will touch, however limited to a few it may seem to be to you.
The third and final message you can watch for when you pray for help in a hard priesthood assignment is this one—I got this one as well—go to work. Priesthood power is given you to bless others. And that always takes moving out and doing something, usually something hard to do. So you can expect, in addition to assurance of God’s help and the command to forget yourself, the clear prompting by the Holy Ghost to go and do something which will bless someone’s life. That may be as obvious as going prayerfully to visit a person or a family or a quorum member to whom you are assigned to serve. For a father it may be to correct one of his children.
Whether what you do is to correct or to teach the gospel of Jesus Christ, you will do it better if you remember what success will be. You are to help Heavenly Father and His Son, Jesus Christ, make eternal life possible for those you serve. To do that, the Spirit must take a testimony down into their hearts. And that testimony has to lead them to choose to keep the commandments of God, whatever storms and temptations may come.
With that in mind, the Spirit will guide you in teaching and correcting with priesthood power. You will keep yourself clean so that you will teach with the Spirit. You will pray for the Spirit to tell you when to correct and how to correct and how to show an increase of love (see D&C 121:43–44). Whatever you do in your priesthood service can be guided and measured by how well it could or did help the person take a testimony of the truth down into his or her life and heart, enough for the Atonement to work and keep working.
You can get assurance in your service. You can forget yourself and begin to pray for and love those you are to serve. And you can choose what to do and measure success by the degree to which it changes the hearts of the people you serve.
But it is never going to be easy for you or for those you serve. There will always be pain in service and in the repentance necessary to bring the power of the Atonement to change hearts. That is in the nature of what you are called to do. Think of the Savior, whose service you are in. At what point in His mortal life can you see an instance when it was easy for Him? Did He ask easy things of His disciples then? Then why should it ever be easy in His service or for His disciples?
The reason for that is suggested by the phrase “a broken heart,” about which you have been taught so well today. The scriptures sometimes speak of people’s hearts being softened, but more often the words describing the state we seek for ourselves and for those we serve are a “broken heart.” This may help us accept that our call to serve and the need for the repentance we need and seek will not be easy. And it helps us understand better why testimony needs to go down into the hearts of our people. Faith that Jesus Christ atoned for their sins has to go down into the heart—a broken heart.
Now, tonight let us decide together what we are going to do. All of us, whatever our callings may be, face tasks that are beyond our own powers. I do and you do. That’s true from the simple fact that success is to get testimony down into the hearts of people. We can’t make that happen. Even God won’t force that on anyone.
So success requires people we serve to choose to accept the testimony of the Spirit into their hearts. The Spirit is ready. But many people aren’t ready to invite the Spirit. Our task, which is in our power, is to invite the Spirit into our lives so that people we serve will want to have the fruits of the Spirit in their lives—the fruits that they can see in ours.
This leads me to some suggestions of what we can choose to do or not to do. Some things we can do invite the Spirit. Some force the Spirit to withdraw. You know that from your own experience.
No priesthood holder who wants to succeed will be careless about where his eyes may go. Choosing to look at images which incite lust will cause the Spirit to withdraw. You have been warned by Elder Clayton as well as you may ever be warned about the dangers of the Internet and the media in putting pornographic images before us. But immodesty is now so common that everyday life requires discipline—a conscious choice not to linger watching whatever might create in us feelings which would repel the Spirit.
The same care is required in what we say. We cannot hope to speak for the Lord unless we are careful with our speech. Vulgarity and profanity offend the Spirit. Just as immodesty seems to be more common, so does vulgar and profane language. It used to be that only in certain places and with certain groups would we hear the name of the Lord taken in vain or hear vulgar words and crude humor. Now it seems to be everywhere and, for many, socially acceptable, where once it was not.
You can decide—and you must—to change what you say even when you can’t control what others say. But I know from my own experience that even in such a terrible situation you can count on God’s help. Years ago I was an air force officer serving for two years in an office with a marine colonel, an army colonel, and a grizzled navy commander. They had learned to speak in war and in peace in a way which offended me, and I know it repelled the Holy Ghost. I was at the time serving as a district missionary, trying in the evenings to go out to find people and teach them under the influence of the Holy Ghost. It was very hard. I was only a lieutenant. They were very senior to me. I had no way of changing their language. But I prayed for help. I don’t know how God did it, but in time their language changed. Slowly the profanity disappeared and then the vulgarity. Only when they drank liquor did it come back, but that was in the evenings, so I could excuse myself for missionary work.
You can have memories like that to sustain your faith when life puts you in difficult places. God helps the faithful priesthood holder who decides to see and say no evil, even in a wicked world. It will not be easy. It never is. But you can have the promise fulfilled for you as I know that it can be for me: “Let virtue garnish thy thoughts unceasingly; then shall thy confidence wax strong in the presence of God; and the doctrine of the priesthood shall distil upon thy soul as the dews from heaven” (D&C 121:45).
I testify that I know that you and I hold the priesthood of God and that He will answer our prayers with sweet assurance and with the help to serve Him better. I so promise you and testify in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Marcela Endrek, a native of Córdoba, Argentina, was sick and sad. It weighed heavily on her. In the midst of feeling there was no way out, she heard a conference talk that spoke of prayer. The thought came directly to her heart to pray earnestly about her troubles.
She began praying regularly for relief. Praying brought her peace and comfort even though her health didn’t improve. In fact, her condition worsened until she could no longer work. Now she had the additional stress of not being able to afford medical expenses.
Out of necessity, she started to investigate how she might cope with her health problems some other way. She felt prompted to focus on changing some eating habits and was surprised at how much it helped. Her recovery was so impressive that she began studying nutrition in depth.
Sometime later, she met a young woman named Evelyn in the same condition as Marcela had been—sick, sad, and desperate for answers. Marcela saw herself in her new friend. She shared some of what she had been learning about food choices and nutrition. She also shared with Evelyn her witness of the power of prayer. She invited Evelyn to pray so that she would also feel God’s love and know that He was aware of her.
A few days later, Marcela was thrilled to see Evelyn again. A change was already apparent physically and spiritually. Evelyn let her know that her life was changing and that she could feel God’s love for her.
From her trials and challenges, Marcela gained both compassion and information she needed to help others.

Several years ago Elder Christensen set a date of January 31. Early January came, and despite having initiated conversations with dozens and dozens of people and inviting several of them to meet the missionaries, he failed to find anyone who was interested. He was scheduled to travel to Honolulu, Hawaii, for an academic conference on January 20, and the way his schedule looked, it seemed clear that he had to meet the person he could introduce to the missionaries on his flight to or from Hawaii. There was no other time. He pleaded in daily prayer that God would cause a person to sit next to him on the plane who would accept his invitation.
After all that effort, he couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw his seatmate—a man named Vinnie who was wearing a loud Hawaiian shirt unbuttoned to his sternum, sporting three gold chains on his hairy chest. Vinnie explained that he worked 11 months every year to save enough to escape to Hawaii for a month in winter to chase women. Clayton was so disappointed. He had tried and prayed so hard to find someone—and instead he got stuck next to a man who didn’t seem to have a religious bone in his body. Discouraged, Clayton turned to some reading.
When the flight attendant brought lunch, Clayton put his reading down and made small talk with his seatmate. Vinnie asked Clayton if he had been to Hawaii before, and Clayton responded that he had attended a language training school in Laie en route to a mission he had served for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Korea. Surprisingly, Vinnie put his fork down and said, “So you’re a Mormon? The funniest thing has happened to me over the past year. I’ve never had any interest in religion, but I’ve had this growing curiosity to know more about Mormons. I don’t know why. Could you tell me a little about your church?”
For the next three hours, enveloped by a wonderful spirit, they discussed the gospel of Jesus Christ, article of faith by article of faith. Several times on the remainder of the flight, Vinnie interrupted to say thanks for telling him about the Church. As the plane landed, Clayton told Vinnie there were missionaries in his hometown and asked if they could visit him when he returned. Vinnie asked if there were missionaries in Honolulu. Clayton received this golden answer to his prayers by using a “Mormon” phrase to open the door to a conversation and by suspending his judgment of what might be in Vinnie’s heart.

Eighteen-year-old Lilian Fernanda Pereira Santos of the Tijuca Ward, Rio de Janeiro Brazil Andaraí Stake, is one of the young Brazilians trying to walk by faith.
Sometimes when she politely declines invitations to parties where she knows the activities will not meet gospel standards, her friends at school say sarcastically, “Yes, we know—you’re a little saint.” Recently there was a particular party she felt she might safely attend, but her mother’s counsel and a Sunday School lesson led her to reconsider taking a chance on it. The lesson quoted a scripture, Mosiah 2:41, that is cited in her patriarchal blessing: “Consider … the blessed and happy state of those that keep the commandments of God. … If they hold out faithful to the end they are received into heaven.”
Fernanda says having friends she can associate with in her early-morning seminary class makes it easier to live the gospel and find wholesome activities. She used to be the only Latter-day Saint in her school, but now there is one more—a young woman, recently baptized, whom Fernanda introduced to the gospel by inviting her to seminary.

“It all began when I said hi to Shawn in the hall one day. If you say hi once to him he’s your friend. He started writing notes to me—friendly, chatty ones. Then in the spring when I ran for student-body president, he was my greatest support.”
This is how the friendship began between a shy, mentally-handicapped boy and one of the most popular girls in the school.
After Mary Kay Harrop was elected student-body president of Lehi High School in Lehi, Utah, in the spring of 1989, her friendship with Shawn Broadhead continued into the next year. And he kept writing her notes. But when the time for senior prom rolled around, Mary Kay was totally clueless when Shawn’s notes became hints asking her to be his date.
“The prom was not on my mind,” Mary Kay says. A boy she had been dating had just left for a mission. Also she was extremely busy with her many tasks as student-body president.
One week before the prom, Shawn’s father, Kent Broadhead, had business at the school and decided to talk with Mary Kay. “I wanted to give her a way out without hurting anybody’s feelings. We were assuming she wouldn’t go,” he said. “I explained that Shawn had been trying to ask her to the dance and he wanted to have his picture taken with her.” Mary Kay’s response was an unexpected but pleasant surprise. “Shawn’s a great friend. I would love to go with him,” she said.
“She never hesitated for a moment to accept,” recalls Shawn’s father.
Shawn’s mother, Ladonna Broadhead, describes Shawn’s reaction: “When Mary Kay called and told him she would accept his invitation, there wasn’t a wall that could contain him. He called all of his friends and wrote to his brothers who were on missions. He was so excited.”
The day after Mary Kay accepted Shawn’s invitation, she tuned in to the Saturday morning session of April general conference. Elder Boyd K. Packer was speaking about our responsibility to the handicapped members of the Church. “When Elder Packer said we ‘manifest the works of God’ in our actions toward the handicapped, it hit me. I knew I was supposed to hear this talk,” she says. “I realized that I was not just going to the prom to please Shawn—to do him a favor. He was doing me the favor. I was the honored one!”
Early the next week, Mary Kay was sharing her feelings with some of her friends at work. One of them made the suggestion to invite all of the special education kids to the dance. And from there, the next few days were a whirlwind. Mary Kay went to Russell Felt, the principal of Lehi High, and he gave his permission. With the help of the special ed teacher, Dalene Callins, all the parents of the students were notified. Then Mary Kay and her mother, Alice Ann Harrop, arranged to have a turkey dinner for Shawn and nine of his classmates before the dance. “Mom did the whole meal, and my two younger sisters helped set up the tables and serve. They all really came through for us,” says Mary Kay.
Rides were arranged for everyone to the hotel where the prom was being held. Mary Kay continues, “When we got there, they were all bubbling over with excitement. The sophomore class president, Jon Bailey, took turns dancing with the girls from special ed and I danced with the boys so no one would feel left out. They were such a fun, enthusiastic group. The whole student-body responded to them. One boy in a wheelchair was pulled all over the dance floor. He had the time of his life!”
Of course, Mary Kay did not forget that Shawn was her official date for the evening. “Shawn was great,” she says. “He bought me the most beautiful corsage I’ve ever had, and he rented a tuxedo—all with money earned from a part-time job. And we did get our picture taken together.”
Mary Kay says this activity awakened an awareness in the students at Lehi High. “The special ed students have the right to be involved, and we should make more of an effort to include them,” she says.
This year, Mary Kay has been attending Ricks College, while Shawn has been completing his senior year in special ed at Lehi High. His father comments, “It’s a good school. I have such an appreciation for all the kids who befriend young people like Shawn. The special ed students don’t know they’re any different because they’re treated like they’re normal. It means so much to all of us parents who have children like Shawn.”
“This experience did more for me than it did for the kids involved,” claims Mary Kay. “I needed it to happen. It made the whole school year worthwhile.”
So, does that mean she would do it all over again, if she could? “Absolutely! Only I’d do it sooner,” she says.

Not me, though. I had only one question when it was my turn to walk up in front of everybody as they announced my name: was I actually going to graduate?

I wasn’t exactly what you’d call a scholar. Studying pretty much never topped my ideal to-do list. And during my senior year I was doing so poorly in one class I didn’t even know if I had passed the class. The final exam earlier that week would seal my fate, but grades wouldn’t post until a week later.

If I failed this class, I wouldn’t graduate high school.

In the end, I squeaked by on the thinnest possible margin and did graduate. (Whew!) At that point I had 14 months until I turned 19, the missionary age at the time. I intended on working during that time to save money for my mission. I knew I wasn’t much of a student, so under no circumstances did I plan on attempting college.

Fast-forward three and a half years from my high school graduation ceremony. I had worked for around a year and a half, served a two-year mission, and ultimately decided to try college after all.

I wish I could say I felt all grown-up and ready for school, but that’s laughable. I felt more intimidated than ever. If I was so bad at high school, how in the world could I handle college? This time I resolved to do my best and involve God along the way. I prayed fervently to develop new and better study skills.

To my complete shock, I ended up doing so well that semester that I qualified for academic scholarships. Nobody was more surprised than me! Even so, I could also easily look back over the previous months and see the hand of God helping me along as I learned to become a good student.

What I believed about myself back in high school simply wasn’t true. From that point on and with God’s help, I was able to forge a completely new path that carried me through college graduation and beyond.

The Holy Ghost also lets us know what to do, and when He does, it is important to be obedient—even when it is hard. I was once visiting Washington, D.C., on business, and I had planned to go to the temple that evening. By the end of the day, however, I was so tired and frustrated that I decided, “No, I don’t think I’ll go to the temple tonight.” I began to walk to my hotel.
When I reached the hotel, the Spirit came very strongly, whispering that I should go to the temple, anyway. I decided to obey. As I stepped off the curb to cross the street, I heard someone say, “Attention!” (“Look out!”). I was pulled back onto the curb just as a car went whizzing by where I had been standing. I looked around. No one was there.
I safely crossed the street, got in my car, and started driving. The traffic was terrible, and I kept thinking, Maybe I’ll go back. But I didn’t.
Finally I reached the temple. I was given the name of the person whose temple work I would perform, and immediately I felt something special about that person. I noticed that it was a man who had been born and lived in France. I remembered the French voice that I had heard earlier, and through the entire temple session I felt as if he was right next to me. I realized that this man had been waiting for me to do his temple work on that day. I was supposed to go to the temple, and the problems at work had been designed by the adversary to keep me from doing the most important work.

Recently I lost my niece to cervical cancer during the pandemic. We were raised like siblings. She was a critical part of my life. In her last moments of earthly life, I had gone to lay down for a minute after having been up for most of two days with her. The family was gathered at her bedside in the living room, talking and laughing. I set my alarm for 1 hour to get some sleep but not be too far away to check on her. Someone, with words as clear as I am speaking to you now but with no physical body, told me to get up. My alarm still had ten minutes on it. I was so tired. I got up and went into the next room.

I walked out to see my family and friends telling me that it wouldn’t be long as they lovingly looked to her bed. I walked over to her and felt the need to place my hand on her shoulder. In that very moment, as I touched her, she passed. She needed me to come out and be with her body as she left it.

Some years ago I was assigned to a stake conference in San Diego, California. It was a hot, humid Saturday in June when I stepped off the plane and began searching for the stake president among the faces in the crowded waiting area. Although we had spoken to each other on the telephone, we had never met in person. It was not difficult to spot him. He was the one person wearing a dark suit and tie. He was standing against the waiting room wall. As I approached him he smiled and I smiled and asked, "How are you, president?" His reply was a pleasant, "I'm happy!" I loved that greeting.

Throughout the day the president used that same response whenever he was asked the proverbial question, "How are you?" I determined that I would ask him about that greeting. As we were driving toward his home that evening, he beat me to it. "Elder Pinegar," he said, "you want to ask me a question."

"I do?"

"Yes. You want to know why I say, 'I'm happy.'"

I admitted that I was curious and asked him to tell me the origin of this now familiar greeting.

This is his story:

He was called to serve a mission at age 19. During his initial interview with his mission president, he told him he did not want to be there. He wanted to go home. The president told him he couldn't send him home. He couldn't release him because he was not the one who had called him on his mission. He would have to stay. The young elder resigned himself to being in the mission, but he determined he would not work. Every weekly letter to the president contained a request for a release from the mission. In every personal interview with the mission president, he asked to go home.

After one such interview following a zone meeting, the president said, "Okay, Elder, you are going home. I've arranged for one of my assistants to remain with your companion." The missionary could hardly believe what was happening. They drove to his apartment where he packed up his things, said goodbye to his companion, and then drove away. He was happy! He was going home!

As they traveled, the missionary began to express his gratitude to the president for allowing him to go home. "Oh," said the president. "I'm not sending you to your home. I'm taking you to the mission home. I'm turning you over to my wife."

"But I don't want to go to the mission home. I want to go to my home," the missionary insisted. They drove on in silence.

It was dinnertime when they pulled into the driveway of the mission home. The president's wife came out to the car. With a bright smile she greeted her husband and then welcomed the frustrated missionary to her home with a question: "How are you, Elder?"

With a frown and an angry voice, he told her he was not happy to be there. He wanted to go to his own home. She smiled and said, "Elder, that's the wrong answer. Now, look at me with a smile and say 'I'm happy!"

"But I'm not happy! I just want to go home."

"Wrong answer, Elder! Let's try that again. How are you, Elder?"

His response was the same. "I'm not happy. I want to go home."

"Wrong answer!" the mission president's wife replied.

The fourth time she repeated the question, he was tired of what he considered "her little game," and responded, without a smile, "Okay, I'm happy."

"Good," she said. "Now we can eat dinner!" For four days, whenever the president's wife saw him, she would pester him with the same question. He continued to reply, "I'm not happy! I want to go home!"

On the fourth night as the elder was walking down the hallway toward his room he saw her coming from the opposite direction. He knew what she was going to say, but this time he would surprise her with the "right answer." "How are you tonight, Elder?" she asked.

"I'm happy!"

"That's great, Elder. Now you can go back to work."

This time he was more emphatic as he responded. He did not want to go to work. He wanted to go home. In a concerned but kind way she invited him to meet with her in the dining room. She had something she wanted to share with him.

As they sat opposite each other at a large table, she looked him squarely in the eyes and told him that he should be a happy, grateful young man. He had the gospel of Jesus Christ, which is the only true plan of happiness in the world. Only through this plan could he, or anyone, find true joy in living. By following it he could learn everything he needed to know and to do in order to find success and real happiness in life. She told him how the principles of the gospel blessed her life for good; how the power of faith and the atonement of Jesus Christ gave her strength to deal with the challenges and difficulties in life. She assured him that through faith and prayer he would be able to fulfill the mission to which he had been called.

As she expressed her deep feelings of faith and joy in the gospel he was filled with the Spirit and somehow his heart changed. He knew what she was saying was true. He was filled with gratitude that the Lord trusted him and had called him to share this great plan of happiness with others. He felt a strong desire to be a missionary, and he received the strength of faith to continue.

At the conclusion of their conversation, the mission president's wife sweetly asked, "How are you, Elder?"

Now, he sincerely responded, "I'm happy!"

As the stake president concluded his story, he said, "Elder Pinegar, from that time until now I have always responded with that truth, 'I'm happy!'" We and he is! However, life has not always been easy for this man. He and his family have experienced some very trying challenges; but they have retained their faith in the gospel of Jesus Christ - the Lord's true plan of happiness. Everyone needs the strength that comes from having faith in the Lord Jesus Christ and the understanding, as President Clark declared, that "faith is a principle of action and power."

It was not long after my graduation from this institution that I found myself in Vietnam. I had been commissioned an officer in the Army of the United States and was serving as an LDS chaplain.

Throughout the country our LDS servicemen were organized into groups that functioned like quorums and moved with their military units. These groups were placed in one of three districts, each of which acted under the direction of a district presidency.

My military unit was base-camped in the southern part of the country. Our district president was an air force chaplain by the name of Farrell Smith. I served as his first counselor. As chaplains we were responsible for meeting the spiritual needs of the military units to which we were assigned and also had the general assignment of looking after our LDS servicemen wherever we might find them.

Time will not permit me to describe the nature of the problems we faced. Suffice it to say, they reached far beyond our experience.

We were extremely pleased when we received word that Victor L. Brown of the Presiding Bishopric was on his way to visit with us. We were to travel with him from one end of the country to the other, meeting with as many of our servicemen’s groups as possible.

We quickly made the arrangements; I cite but one example. We needed a pilot who could commandeer either a chopper or fixed-wing craft and be able to fly at a moment’s notice.

For such arrangements we bypassed the military chain of command and dealt with a higher authority. The Lord always saw that the right man was in the right place.

Chaplain Smith and I then sat in council together. We made a list of the questions we wanted to ask our visiting authority. We divided them up and committed them to memory.

When the times and places of our meetings were announced, our servicemen came from all over the country. We held meetings on the sides of runways, in bunkers and ditches. We held meetings with the ground rumbling beneath our feet and the sound of large guns thundering around us. In some instances we were even able to meet in small military chapels.

Between meetings, as soon as we were airborne, Chaplain Smith and I would take turns asking Bishop Brown questions. His counsel was wise, but it became more than evident what we were doing, and he called a sharp halt to our question asking.

He said, “Brethren, I am going to tell you a story. You won’t like it, but it is a great story.”

He then proceeded with his story, and, as he had anticipated, we did not like it.

The story brought an end to our question session and with it the realization that our problems were ours and it was for us to solve them. That is why the Lord placed us there.

Brother and Sister Perez were sealed in the Arizona Temple in 1965. Wanting their children who remained at home to be sealed to them, Sister Perez prayed to make this blessing possible. In response, her tortilla business increased, helping provide the funds needed for them to make another temple trip three years later. Next, Brother and Sister Perez felt an urgency to have their married children sealed to them as well. She prayed for help again, and again the number of her tortilla customers grew. The money it brought in helped fund a temple trip with the rest of the children, along with spouses and children. In 1975, Brother Perez was called as the patriarch of the newly created Quetzaltenango Stake.

I will try to tie this all together by a continuation of the story with which I began. I grew up and left Montana and went to Ricks College to play basketball. While there, several people became my dearest friends. One was a young man named Keith, who sat in front of me during my first class. He and another young man, Kent, and I spent a great deal of time together. We were high-spirited and, some might say, even a little rowdy. To say the least, we had great fun in and out of class.
Keith introduced me to his younger sister. Suffice it to say, I fell in love with her. I will be forever grateful to him for that one act that has blessed my life now and forever. In those days full-time missions were not promoted quite as much as they are now. I had decided that I wanted to enlist in the air force and become a pilot. But, succumbing to the influence of my two friends and the imploring of Bonnie, who insisted that she would never marry me without my serving, I accepted a call to the Spanish-American Mission in Texas and New Mexico to labor with the Mexican people. Keith went to the northwest, and Kent went to Argentina.
Upon our return home, each of us married in the temple and began our families. We went to college and obtained as much education as we possibly could. Eventually, while still young, we migrated back to Rexburg, Idaho. Kent became a prosecuting attorney, and Keith and I taught religion at Ricks College. Almost at the same time the three of us were called to be bishops in the Church. A few years later we were called to be counselors in stake presidencies, and I was subsequently called to preside over a stake. All three of us were called to be mission presidents. Then Keith was called to serve as president of the Portland Temple, and Kent and I were called to be General Authorities.
Our whole lives were centered in the gospel and in the Church. We had totally committed ourselves to the Savior. Perhaps some of you know them. I have spoken of Elder J. Kent Jolley, formerly a member of the Second Quorum of the Seventy, and President Keith L. Sellers.
I have told you this in an effort to convince you that it requires the gospel and the Church to bring everything that is important in our lives into one eternal sphere. There is nothing else in this life of eternal worth—just family, friends, and the gospel and the Church of Jesus Christ.

President Heber J. Grant called Harold B. Lee into his office one morning.
President Grant: Tomorrow you will be sustained as a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles.
Harold: But, President Grant, do you really think that I am worthy of this call?
President Grant: My boy, if I didn’t think so, you would never be called to this position.
That night Harold couldn’t sleep. All he could think about was the foolish mistakes he had made in his life and about all the people he might have offended. He knelt to pray.
Harold: Heavenly Father, I will love and forgive every soul that has walked the earth. I pray that Thou wilt forgive me in return and make me worthy to be Thy servant.
The next day, he nervously went to the temple and was ushered into the room where the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles meet with the First Presidency.
President Grant: Take a seat here, Elder Lee.
Elder Lee: Imagine all the great men who have sat in this room, in these chairs!
After the ordination, one of the Apostles gave Elder Lee an assignment.
Apostle: Now, you know that after having been ordained, you are a special witness of the Lord Jesus Christ. We want you to give the Easter talk on the radio next Sunday night.
Elder Lee went into a room in the Church Office Building to read Bible accounts of Jesus’ life. As he read, he realized that he was having a new experience.
Elder Lee: I can almost see the events as if they are happening right now!
Elder Lee learned that every Apostle receives a special personal witness of Jesus Christ. When Easter Sunday came, he was ready to speak.
Elder Lee: I am now the least of all my brethren and want to witness to you that I know, as I have never known before this call came, that Jesus is the Savior of this world. He lives, and He died for us.

I recall hearing a man telling of how he came into the Church. He said:
“I had a date with a lovely young woman. When I called for her, I noticed on the table a copy of the Book of Mormon. I had never heard of it before. I began to read. I became interested. I got a copy of the book and read it through.
“I had only the traditional idea of God and Jesus Christ. I had never given serious thought to the matter. But as I read this book there came into my mind light and understanding of eternal truths, and into my heart a testimony that God is our Eternal Father, and that Jesus is our Savior.”

Many things changed for me the year I turned 17. I was advancing to a new school and moving on to my third year of seminary. Not only that, but I also had a new seminary teacher: my mom.
Did I mention I was the only student in her class? Since the school I was going to attend was an hour’s train ride from where I lived, my mother decided to teach me early-morning seminary at home so I would be able to reach school on time. I was fortunate to have her teach me every day, but it was also a little nerve-racking. I had to give her my fullest attention, which was especially a struggle at 5:30 in the morning.
When we were studying the Book of Mormon, we came to Moroni, a prophet I really admire. However, I’ve always wondered: Why was Moroni alone? Why didn’t Heavenly Father send someone to accompany him? Why didn’t he complain when the Lord left him all alone to finish the Book of Mormon?
My mother explained that because of his righteousness and faith in Heavenly Father, Moroni knew that he was not alone. He had Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ to help him complete the Book of Mormon. I realized then that Moroni didn’t need anyone to be physically there because he knew that someone was spiritually there, watching over him. He knew that Heavenly Father would never leave his side.
That had a huge impact on me. I now know that whenever I think I’m alone, I’m not spiritually alone since I have the companionship of the Holy Ghost, who helps me feel closer to my Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. I know that as long as I have faith and trust in the Lord, I will never walk alone.
This particular lesson made an impact on my faith and my testimony of Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. Although I was worried about having seminary at home, I’m now grateful because it has given me special learning experiences with my mom.

My family moved to a little desert town in the United States during one of the hottest months of the year. But among the Latter-day Saint kids, my reception was cold.
I was 15, and my family had already moved 10 times, so it wasn’t as if I didn’t know how to make friends. I tried everything I knew to break the ice, but after five months I still didn’t have a single friend who was a member of the Church.
Luckily, I had lots of good nonmember friends at school. But that didn’t make it any easier at early-morning seminary and church. I actually sat through five months of seminary without anyone saying hello to me, except my seminary teacher. And in my Sunday School class there was always one empty seat between me and everyone else.
Tom Jeppson* was the ringleader of the LDS kids. He had never really said anything to me. In fact, I wasn’t even sure he had noticed me until one morning when he met me at the seminary doors.
“Go home. We don’t want you here,” he said.
I started to laugh. He had to be joking, right? But when I looked at his face, I knew he wasn’t kidding. I looked at the others standing close behind him. They didn’t say anything, which I figured meant they agreed.
As I turned away, I heard the doors slam behind me and muffled laughter.
I’m never going to seminary again, I swore to myself as I walked the short distance to the high school. It is all their fault.
That day seemed like it would never end. After school I rode the bus to my street, but I didn’t go home. I went to my seminary teacher’s house. He lived a few doors down from me, and I really liked him. In fact, I liked his whole family.
He usually gave me a ride to seminary each morning, so I wanted to tell him not to worry about picking me up anymore. Actually, what I really wanted was some sympathy.
Sister Murray answered the door. Brother Murray wasn’t home yet, but she invited me in for a drink of lemonade. It wasn’t long before I was telling her the whole story. She was sympathetic until I said I wasn’t going to seminary anymore and that I might not go to church ever again.
“If this is really the true Church, people wouldn’t act like that,” I said.
I expected her to plead with me to come back. I wanted her to tell me she would talk to all the kids’ parents and get them in a lot of trouble. I thought she would be ready to do almost anything to keep me active. Instead she said, “Well, fine. You’re not hurting any of those kids by not going. You’re hurting only yourself.”
I was too shocked to say anything. I quickly finished my lemonade and told her I had to go.
I stayed away from seminary and church for three weeks. My seminary teacher called a few times to check on me. I missed seminary, but I was too proud to admit it. I kept telling myself everyone was probably feeling pretty guilty they had made me become inactive. I told myself they would be in trouble on judgment day.
Still, I couldn’t forget what Sister Murray had said about me hurting only myself. And then, one day when I was reading the Book of Mormon, a scripture caught my eye: “See that ye do all things in worthiness, and do it in the name of Jesus Christ, the Son of the living God; and if ye do this, and endure to the end, ye will in nowise be cast out” (Morm. 9:29).
As I read the words, the Spirit filled my heart and I realized Sister Murray was right. Sure, the kids had been real jerks. But they couldn’t keep me away from the Church if I was determined to be there. And best of all, they couldn’t cast me out in the end, when it really mattered—not if I endured.
I got out of bed and set my alarm for 5:00 A.M., so I wouldn’t miss seminary the next day.
We lived in that hot, windy desert town for five more months and nothing really changed—except my heart. For the first time, I understood that no one was responsible for my salvation but me. I didn’t miss another day of seminary or church. And although the LDS kids were still cold, it didn’t matter. I was filled with the warmth of the gospel.

With the trusting nature of a child, four-year-old Kennedy from Lusaka, Zambia, ran into the open arms of Jesus! The moment was later captured on canvas by Latter-day Saint artist Liz Lemon Swindle in a heartwarming painting titled Worth of a Soul.
Since 2008 this painting has found a place in our hearts. We see the Savior draw this young, trusting child into Him. As we look into this young child’s eyes it may really be ourselves that we see. If we allow the Spirit in, it will testify that it is really each one of us that is cradled in His arms.
Kennedy was orphaned when both parents passed away just a couple of months apart from an undiagnosed disease. They left behind eight cherished children, the youngest just three weeks old. Kennedy’s life and the lives of his brothers and sisters were forever changed. The emptiness and loss robbed him of hope. That feeling would follow him for many years. His spirit craved acceptance, love, and belonging.
Kennedy and some of his siblings were cared for at the Mothers Without Borders Children’s Center in West Lusaka, Zambia. Two years after his parents’ passing, on a sunny day, a man portraying the Savior arrived with Sister Swindle and a photographer. They sought to photograph African children with the man so that a much-needed painting could be created.
Kennedy was now four years old. With the innocence of a child, and fully believing this man to be the Savior, he broke loose from the grip of his sister Bridget’s hand and ran toward him. He jumped into his outstretched arms. Throughout the day, Kennedy rarely left his side. Was the Spirit whispering to him that something here was familiar?
As a young orphan, Kennedy depended on others for survival. Prior to being brought to the children’s center, he and his siblings were scattered among relatives. As with most experiences in life, some of the times were good, some desperate. Throughout it all, and despite separation from each other, the siblings remain bonded together. His older brother Bwalya was ever present in his life and took on the role of father and protector even though he was only two years older than Kennedy.
Kennedy was introduced to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints when he was 9 and became a baptized member at the age of 11. Five siblings were also baptized.
As a young teenager, life became difficult for Kennedy when no funds were available for his continued housing, food, and much desired education. It was at this time that BJ Warnick, Sandra Peters, and Anthony Mulenga—who had all known Kennedy since he was four—were able to take him into their care. Through their Heart to Hands Foundation, he and Bwalya were immediately adopted into their flock.
While it was obvious that Kennedy needed the basics required for daily survival, what he really needed was hope and love, and they had plenty of that to offer. Kennedy said while he was “not officially adopted”, it was “even better”. He now had two moms. With his new family’s help, he was able to complete grade 12, obtain a driver’s license, and complete auto mechanic school. Again, he was wrapped in the arms of his Savior, but it was through the acts of others. Kennedy remarked, “I don’t know who I would have become without the continual love of my enlarged family and friends who have dedicated so much time to me.”
A year ago Kennedy decided to serve a mission and become those arms of the Savior for others. His “better than adopted family”, his brother Bwalya, and his determined Bishop Simbeya in the Libala Ward helped him prepare.
For many African missionaries, their first opportunity to attend the temple is when they come to the missionary training center in Ghana. It is also their first and often only opportunity to do ordinance work for their deceased parents, siblings, or grandparents until they return home and are able to have sufficient resources to travel to the nearest temple.
Elder and Sister Meredith serve as temple and family history missionaries in the Africa West Area and spend time at the MTC each Sunday helping interested missionaries prepare their ancestors’ names so they can do temple work for them in the short time they are there. Their most joyous efforts occur in opportunities to help missionaries who want to do work for their own parents. Such was the case with Kennedy Chitalu.
While he was at the Ghana MTC, before departing to the Kenya Nairobi Mission, he was able to attend the house of the Lord and take part in not just his father’s ordinance work but also the sealing of his parents and finally his sealing to them for time and all eternity. He was so excited he didn’t want forget even a moment of his experience and stayed in the temple to savor the spirit he felt as long as he was able.
Now, as Elder Chitalu, in the mission office he met Sister Stacie Sturt, mission leader for the Kenya Nairobi Mission. She captured a beautiful photo of Elder Chitalu standing in front of the painting of his much younger self, cradled in the arms of his Savior. Now he wears a name tag as a representative of Jesus Christ. It is his turn to wrap his arms around others and help bring them to Christ. He testifies: “I know and stand as a solemn witness that Jesus Christ is our Savior, and I know that His Atonement has healing power for all kinds of afflictions”.

Time machines have been dreamed up in all shapes and sizes. Such fantastical devices have been represented on screen and in books as everything from hyped-up supercars to phone booths.
For a large group of youth from Arizona, USA, their blast to the past took place inside their local stake center.
This particular journey began after President Boyd K. Packer, President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, told youth, “You may wonder, at my age what I can contribute to your lives. I have been where you are and know where you are going. But you have not yet been where I am” (“Counsel to Youth,” Ensign, Nov. 2011, 16). These words prompted leaders in one stake to start thinking about ways to help youth connect with elderly people in their area.
As youth and leaders began planning, they decided to put together a program in the spirit of The Lawrence Welk Show, a popular American TV show featuring music and dancing that ran from the 1950s through the 1970s. This was a show many of the seniors in the stake knew and loved well.
Most of the youth, however, had never heard of it, and at first some of them didn’t know quite what to think of the idea.
“I was unsure,” says Lisette L., a Laurel from the stake. Adds Slade C., 15, “Honestly, I thought it was going to be kind of weird.”
After all, we’re talking about barbershop quartet music, dance styles from decades past, and the hope to form close friendships across wide generation gaps. Still, the youth jumped in with both feet and started preparing.
“We wanted the youth and the elderly citizens to get to know each other,” says Pam Nielson, one of the leaders. “We wanted them to realize they have a lot in common.”
This wasn’t an activity that could be thrown together in a few days. Preparation involved weeks of rehearsals. There was an all-youth orchestra, an all-youth barbershop chorus, an all-youth band, and all-youth dance teams who learned songs and routines from the 1920s through the 1960s. That takes time to create. “These kids were amazing,” says Pam.
For their part, Slade and Lisette were both chosen as part of an advanced dancing team. “There were lots of rehearsals,” Slade says. “After Mutual, we went down to the stake center and practiced.”
As the show began coming together, the excitement grew. “It was really fun,” says Lisette. “For most of us, it was our first time hearing any of this kind of music.”
When the big day arrived, the surprise highlight—for many—took place before the first note of music even rang in the air.
The activity was scheduled in two segments. For the first part, the 200 youth from the stake were divided into groups of four, and then each group was assigned to visit an elderly man or woman in his or her home for an hour and a half.
“That was definitely one of my favorite parts,” says Slade. He wasn’t alone, either. For many of the young men and young women, these get-to-know-you sessions were fascinating as well as inspiring.
Slade’s group was assigned to visit Hazel Cameron, a widow in their stake who lived through the Great Depression. “I never guessed at all the things she’s been through,” Slade explains. “She told us a few stories that I thought were pretty exciting.”
Slade and the others in his group spent 90 minutes getting to know Hazel, asking her questions about her life. They all enjoyed one another’s company—and none of them minded a bit when Hazel shared a few treats she’d made. It turns out baking cookies and making candy is one of her favorite hobbies!
Another of Hazel’s favorite hobbies is dancing, including the fox-trot. “She taught me a few moves,” Slade says.
At the end of their time together, the elderly members in each group shared a few words of advice with the youth. These messages were recorded and later compiled and handed out as treasured DVDs.
When visiting time was over, the youth said good-bye to their new friends and got ready for the performance later that night. They could hardly wait to put on the performance.
After all the hard work, The Lawrence Wright Show was ready to begin. The event was named for the stake president, Lawrence Wright, who played the role of host Lawrence Welk, complete with a flurry of bubbles like they had in the original show.
The youth went all-out in performing for their new friends. All night long, the stake center became a time machine as song after song turned back the years for the guests of honor. “I loved seeing how happy they were as we performed for them and brought back memories,” says Lisette.
After the grand finale—a song and dance routine to the traditional closing song from The Lawrence Welk Show—music continued, and the youth invited their friends from the audience to join them for more dancing. “It was super exciting,” says Slade, who shared a dance with Hazel.
The friendships formed that day have lasted well past the show’s closing curtain. The youth enjoy seeing their new friends at church and around town. Slade, for example, drops by Hazel’s house now and again just to say hello. He often thinks of ways to brighten her day. “I didn’t think this activity was going to be amazing, but it was,” Slade explains.
Pam hears all the time from senior members in the stake who tell her how the youth will come up and talk with them at church. “They truly made friends,” she says.
This activity ended up providing much more than entertainment. By getting to know those they served, the youth formed friendships they never knew they were missing. “No matter what age we are,” says Lisette, “we’re all part of the same family.”

I recently saw a video showing a day in the life of a 14-year-old young man in India named Amar. He gets up early and works two jobs, before and after school, six and a half days a week. His income provides a substantial part of his family’s livelihood. He hurries home on his worn bicycle from his second job after dark and somehow squeezes in a few hours of homework before dropping onto his bed on the floor between sleeping siblings around eleven o’clock at night. Although I’ve never met him, I feel proud of him for his diligence and courage. He is doing the very best he can with his limited resources and opportunities, and he is a blessing to his family.

When I received an assignment to speak in the priesthood session, I called Elder Robert L. Backman, who was, at the time, director of the Young Men program, and asked for suggestions on a subject needing the special attention of those holding the Aaronic Priesthood. Within a few days I received a memo back from Elder Backman, and his response was, “The youth are at a most interesting time in their lives. They will soon be making major decisions which will shape their future, such as going on missions, college, a profession, marriage, etc.” His counsel was to speak on making right decisions.
Attached to his memo was a “Peanuts” cartoon that pictured Linus standing with a nice, firm snowball in his hand as Lucy enters the picture. She surveys the situation and makes this comment to Linus: “Life is full of choices. You may choose, if you wish, to throw that snowball at me. You also may choose, if you wish, not to throw that snowball at me. Now if you choose to throw that snowball at me, I will pound you right into the ground! If you choose not to throw that snowball at me, your head will be spared.”
Then Linus, throwing the snowball away with a disgusted look on his face, said, “Life is full of choices, but I never get any.”
Linus is right that life is full of choices. But I have found him to be wrong in the second part. Decisions are before us every step of the way. Elder Richard L. Evans said in the film Man’s Search For Happiness: “Life offers you two precious gifts. One is time, the other, freedom of choice—the freedom to buy with your time what you will. You are free to exchange your allotment of time for thrills. You may trade it for base desires. You may invest it in greed. You may purchase with it vanity; you may spend your time in pursuit of material things. Yours is the freedom to choose. But these are not bargains, for in them you find no lasting satisfaction.”
There is a great account in the very beginning of the Book of Mormon of a family that had some grave decisions to make. Just imagine that you are living in that time and you are a member of Lehi’s household. You are living in Jerusalem in a very comfortable home, warm and secure, surrounded with many of the good things of life. As you arise one morning, your father calls a family council. He states that he had a dream last night, and then makes a startling statement to you: “Go get your sleeping bags and the tents. Just take what provisions we can carry on our backs. Don’t worry about the gold and silver and your precious things. We will have no room for them. I have been commanded by the Lord that we should depart into the wilderness.” And the scripture records, “And he left his house, and the land of his inheritance, and his gold, and his silver, and his precious things, and took nothing with him, save it were his family, and provisions, and tents, and departed into the wilderness” (1 Ne. 2:4).
You have only gone a short distance when your father has another dream. He calls you to him and says, “Behold I have dreamed a dream, in the which the Lord hath commanded me that thou and thy brethren shall return to Jerusalem.
“For behold, Laban hath the record of the Jews and also a genealogy of my forefathers, and they are engraven upon plates of brass.
“Wherefore, the Lord hath commanded me that thou and thy brothers should go unto the house of Laban, and seek the records, and bring them down hither into the wilderness” (1 Ne. 3:2–4).
Now that was a hard task assigned to the sons, for Laban was a very rich and powerful man. They murmured against their father, and said it was a hard thing he was requiring them to do. But one son said to his father, “I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded, for I know that the Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save he shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the thing which he commandeth them” (1 Ne. 3:7).
Several decisions faced these young men as they approached Laban to ask for the records. It’s most interesting to me to note the process by which they made those decisions. First, the decision was to leave it to chance. And they cast lots, and the lot fell to Laman. He went to the house of Laban, and as he sat and talked with him, he said he desired the records that were written on the plates of brass. Laban was not too pleased with this request and was angry, and thrust him out of his presence, and would not let him have the record. He said, “Behold thou art a robber, and I will slay thee” (1 Ne. 3:13). That was enough for Laman; he fled and came back and reported to his brothers that leaving the assignment to chance did not work.
Nephi had to make another decision on how to obtain the records. He thought of all the wealth they were leaving in their home, the gold and silver and all manner of riches. He thought he would gather up that gold and silver and trust in the things of the world to purchase the records. So they approached the house of Laban and displayed the gold and silver and offered to trade these precious things for the plates of brass. When Laban saw the property and that it was exceedingly great, he did lust after it. Looking at the four boys against all of his servants, it was easy to determine that he could retain the plates and have the wealth also. He sent his servants after the boys to slay them, and they had to flee, leaving their property behind. Things of the world did not produce the records.
Now the brothers of Nephi had almost lost their lives twice attempting to get the record, and they were not very happy with him. Nephi was not willing to give up; he reasoned with them this way: “Let us go up again unto Jerusalem, and let us be faithful in keeping the commandments of the Lord; for behold he is mightier than all the earth, then why not mightier than Laban and his fifty, yea, or even than his tens of thousands?” (1 Ne. 4:1).
Who could argue against such sound reasoning? Of course the Lord was mightier than Laban and all of his servants. So by night Nephi led his brothers outside the wall of Jerusalem. He crept inside towards the house of Laban, this time not leaving it to chance or to worldly things, but going by faith. He said, “I was led by the Spirit, not knowing beforehand the things which I should do” (1 Ne. 4:6).
As he came to the house of Laban, he found a man fallen to the earth, drunken with wine. On coming closer, he discovered it was Laban. Laban had been delivered into his hands. The Lord had opened the way to obtain the record. Making the decision to place his trust in the Lord produced the results.
There is a great lesson to be learned in the decision-making process of the sons of Lehi. Leaving the decision to chance was not a very acceptable method.
I remember one time when I was in the Marine Corps, stationed at Camp Pendleton in California. I left a decision to chance and almost found myself in a most unpleasant situation.
My buddies had been after me each weekend to go with them into the dance hall in Los Angeles to have a good time. Each weekend I was encouraged to go. After several weeks of turning them down, thinking that that was no place for me, I decided just once to leave it to chance and see how it would turn out.
I started with them towards this big dance hall in Los Angeles. We were riding the streetcar, and as it progressed from stop to stop, it was filling up with many young ladies. They were not the type I had ever been around before. They were extremely forward. I felt very uncomfortable around them. As they approached me, I adopted a tactic completely unknown to a marine. I retreated.
On the back row of the streetcar I found four young ladies whose appearance was entirely different. I asked them if they were going to the dance, and their reply was, “Yes, but not to the same one you are.” Then they said, “We are going to the Adams Ward to a Mormon dance. What do you know about the Mormon Church?” I was surprised, relieved, and willingly got off the streetcar with them, and had a most delightful evening at the Adams Ward. Have more confidence in yourself than allowing your decisions to happen just by chance.
The decision by Nephi and his brothers to place their trust in the things of the world proved to be no more successful than leaving it to chance. I was talking to a father while attending a stake conference. He was telling me about the pressures on his teenage daughter to follow the ways of the world and how she had made the decision not to allow those pressures to influence her life.
She was the only member of the Church in her class in school. She was a popular young lady with the boys and had many opportunities to go out on dates. The boys in her class did not live by the standards she had been taught in our Church. She made the decision to tell every boy who asked her for a date what standards she lived by. If she were to date them, they would be expected to conduct themselves in accordance with her standards. She would get such a commitment from them before she accepted a date. One day the big campus football hero came up to her before the most special dance of the year and said, “You know, I would ask you to go to the dance with me if you would lower your standards just a little.”
There was no hesitation in her voice as she replied, “If I would go out with you, I would be lowering my standards.” Be strong enough to make your decisions to not follow worldly ways.
Nephi found success when he made his decision to have faith in the Lord and to follow His way.
Some years ago in the Church News there appeared a most interesting article about a young man who made his decision to trust in the ways of the Lord.
“President Spencer W. Kimball is a constant inspiration to the Church. This is not only so through what he says, but likewise by what he does. When addressing the Stockholm Area Conference he revealed the secret of this success. Said he: ‘As I was out alone, milking the cows, or putting up the hay, I had time to think. I mulled it over in my mind and made this decision: ‘I, Spencer Kimball, will never taste any form of liquor. I, Spencer Kimball, will never touch tobacco. I will never drink coffee, nor will I ever touch tea—not because I can explain why I shouldn’t, except that the Lord said not to.’ He said those things were an abomination. There are many other things that are, too, that are not in the Word of Wisdom. But I made up my mind.
‘That’s the point I am trying to make. I made up my mind then, as a little boy; ‘I will never touch those things.’ And so, having made up my mind, it was easy to follow it, and I did not yield. There were many temptations that came along, but I did not even analyze it; I did not stop and measure it and say, ‘Well, shall I or shall I not?’ I always said to myself: ‘But I made up my mind I would not. Therefore, I do not.
“‘I want to just say that I will soon go into another year and that I have never tasted tea, nor coffee, nor tobacco, nor liquor of any kind, nor drugs. Now that may sound very presumptuous and boasting to you, but I am only trying to make this point: that if every boy and girl—as he or she begins to grow a little more mature and becomes a little more independent of his friends and his family and all—if every boy and girl would make up his or her mind, I will not yield, then no matter what the temptation is: I made up my mind. That’s settled’” (Church News, Oct. 4, 1975, 16).
If we would all follow President Kimball’s example to make our decisions based on our faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, what a change it would make in our lives.
O, youth of the noble birthright, make your decision now: “I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded” (1 Ne. 3:7). There is power in His way. There is no greater joy in this life than to be found in His service. I bear you my solemn testimony that a decision to live according to His law will bring you life eternal.