Gospel Story Finder

There is a hammock in our backyard. After treatments I sit in that hammock most of the day just feeling sorry for myself. I look up at the trees and think, lucky trees. Trees don’t get cancer. I look up at the birds. Lucky birds. They can just fly away from their problems. I wish I could fly away.
On one of those days after I’d been sitting on the hammock crying and feeling sorry for myself, I went into my house and watched television. The Jerry Lewis Telethon was on. The parents of children who had multiple sclerosis were telling what it is like to have a child with the disease. Most of them talked of the hope they had for a cure for their child’s condition. One woman, however, said she didn’t have any hope that her child would even live much longer, but she said that she was going to love her child as much as she could as long as she could. She also said that her family had grown tremendously from the experience. They’d learned not to let sorrow drown out their happiness.
I was so mad at myself. I was bitter. I had so much to be thankful for, and I was wasting so much of my precious time. That little boy seemed so happy. He was smiling, and his parents also seemed happy. I’m sure they felt pain because they knew they were going to lose their son, but they weren’t letting that get in their way. They were making the most of every minute they had with him.
I realized then that it doesn’t matter how much time I have left. What is really important is what I do with what I have. I decided to fight to the end.

We were so happy, every Sunday attending sacrament meeting and seeing the love the members of the Church showed us. My mom and I waited for my father who was working in Dubai to come and be baptized, and my brother was studying in Vijayawada where there is no Church. Fortunately, a home group was started in Vijayawada and missionaries from Rajahmundry went there and taught him. I baptized him. The day came that my father arrived from his work the missionaries met him, taught him, and invited him to be baptized, but he had an issue with the Word of Wisdom. Finally, he overcame it with the help of the missionaries and he also joined the Church. My brother baptized him. Now all four members in our family have joined the Church and have seen many miracles in our lives.

Stacy’s seventh Christmas was one her family would never forget. It was unforgettable because it was almost so very, very awful.
One autumn day, Stacy’s family had gone for a drive to see the colorful trees. When a truck suddenly came into their lane, Dad swerved to miss it and hit a tree instead. Dad and Mom were fine, and so were Adam and Will. But Stacy was hurt. Dad called for an ambulance to take her to the hospital.
Stacy woke up in the hospital with a bandage on her head and her leg in a cast. She would need to stay in the hospital for a while until she got better.
Stacy shared a room with three girls named Jenny, Tamika, and Kelly. Kelly could get out of bed, so she played games and read stories with the other girls. Stacy was glad to meet new friends in the hospital.
Every day the doctor checked on Stacy. Her leg was healing well, and soon the nurses removed the bandage from her head.
One day Kelly went home. The girls hugged and said good-bye.
“I’m glad you’re well, Kelly,” Stacy said.
“Thanks. Now you and Jenny and Tamika get better too,” Kelly said.
Eventually Stacy was allowed to get out of bed. Walking with crutches was hard, but once she learned to get around on her own she made friends with children in other rooms. There were many children in the hospital, all with different injuries and illnesses. Some were there only a short time, while others had to stay for many months.
In December, Stacy was finally able to go home. “I’m glad I get to go home, but I’m going to miss everyone so much,” Stacy told her parents.
As Christmas drew near, Stacy’s cast was removed, and she worked hard to walk without limping. One night Mom and Dad asked Stacy what she wanted for Christmas.
“There’s really only one thing I want,” Stacy said. “I want to take presents to the children in the hospital who don’t get to go home for Christmas.”
Mom hugged Stacy. “Is that really what you want? You don’t want anything for yourself?”
“That’s really what I want,” Stacy said.
Mom and Dad explained the plan to Will and Adam and added that there wouldn’t be much money left over for family presents.
“That’s OK,” Will said. “I think it’s a good idea.”
The family went shopping and picked out toys, games, and books. Then they wrapped the gifts and piled them in the car.
On Christmas morning, Stacy and her family drove to the hospital. Stacy grinned as she passed out the gifts. Some of her friends had gone home, and now other children were in their beds. Stacy had a gift for each one. Seeing their excitement when they opened their gifts filled Stacy’s heart with joy.
“How do you feel?” Mom asked as they left the children’s wing.
Stacy hugged her. “This might sound funny, but I loved Christmas at the hospital!”

Gil Ja had learned service by example. Her mother always lived by that principle, serving Church members even before she became one herself.
Her mother had come to love the members of the Church and the sister missionaries who wanted to teach her. But it was difficult to give up her traditional religion. In her closet she had a small statue of Buddha to which she prayed each day. The turning point in her conversion came after she dreamed that she was praying to her Buddha when it began to cry tears from its painted eyes and slowly turned its back on her. She understood that the dream meant it was time for her to follow a new religious path.
Three years after her baptism and confirmation, her husband—by then the lone member of the family who was still outside the Church—finally consented to listen to the gospel and was converted. After he joined the Church, he became a changed man, his children say—sweeter, kinder, more tolerant.
Some 26 years after Cho Joong Hyun’s baptism, all of his family were at last members of the Church. It was a high point for the family when their mother and father were sealed in the Seoul Korea Temple. A touching moment for the entire family came at a later gathering when the Cho children sang to their father the lullaby he had sung to them when they were small.
Their mother served faithfully in the Church until the end of her life. Even in the hospital, suffering from stomach cancer, she was a missionary to the young woman in the next bed, introducing her to the gospel.
Her sons and daughters carry on the tradition of service. There are two President Chos in the family. Yong Hyun, the CES coordinator, has served in a variety of priesthood leadership callings through the years and is currently president of the stake in Gwangju. Cho Joong Hyun, who led the way into the Church for his family, has also served in a variety of leadership roles in Suncheon, including district president. He is currently president of the Suncheon Branch. Cho Gil Ja has served for more than 16 years as president of the Relief Society in the ward and stake. Other brothers and sisters in the family are active in their own areas as well, and all are married to active members.
Seven of the Cho children and grandchildren have served as missionaries so far, and still others are preparing to serve. Several of the children and grandchildren have married returned missionaries. Now the fourth generation of Chos is beginning to be reared in the Church. Their days have not been free of life’s difficulties, but blessings have come through their obedience.
The missionary who handed that pamphlet to a young postal worker nearly four decades ago could not have known what would grow from the small seed he planted. But the harvest has been plentiful—and it may be only beginning.

When I was a boy, my mother had to go to work at Garfield Smelter and work like a man to help support the seven children. She worked the graveyard shift as much as she could, I’m sure to be with us during the day. I don’t know when the poor woman slept. One Saturday morning, she got off work about 7:00 or 8:00 A.M. She went to bed for a couple of hours and then got up. She had invited all her relatives to dinner. There must have been 35 or 40. She decorated the tables and arranged the chairs and put all the dishes and silverware out. She cooked and baked all day long. The dirty pots and pans and dishes stacked up.

Everyone came to dinner, and after dinner all the dirty dishes were brought into the kitchen. The food was cleared and stacked on the table and cupboards; then the kitchen door was closed and the family began to visit. It was about 8:00 P.M.

I remember standing all alone in the kitchen. In my young mind, I thought: My mother worked all night; she has worked all day to get this dinner. When everyone leaves, she will have to do the dishes and put the food away. It will take two or three hours, and that’s not fair. Then I thought, I will do them.

I washed the dishes, did the silverware, the glassware. We didn’t have an electric dishwasher; ours was a manual dishwasher, and that night I was manual. I used a half-dozen dish towels. I was drenched from head to foot. I put the food away, cleaned off the table and drainboards; then I got down on my hands and knees and scrubbed the floor. When I was finished, I thought the kitchen was immaculate. It took about three hours.

Then I heard the chairs shuffling, and everyone left. The front door closed, and I heard my mother coming to the kitchen. I was pleased and thought she would be. The door swung open, and even at the age of 11, I recognized that she was startled. She looked around the kitchen, looked at me, and then there was a look I didn’t recognize at the time. I do now. It was something like “Thanks. I am tired. I think you understand, and I love you.” And she came over and hugged me. There was a light in her eye and a warmth in my heart. I learned it is a wonderful feeling to turn on the lights in our parents’ eyes.

I was on the baseball team in high school, but I needed shoulder surgery my junior year and was unable to recover enough to play. When I had to quit baseball, I was very torn up. I wasn’t sure what to do with my life.
I have always been into music and had started writing songs on my guitar. For a long time I did this as a hobby and nothing more, but when I couldn’t spend my time playing baseball, I decided to transfer all of my passion into my music. I contacted a friend who had a home recording studio, and we started recording some of my songs. After four months I came out with an eight-song CD.
My parents have been encouraging me to save up for my mission since I was very young, but until this point I still didn’t have a lot of money in my mission fund. I decided that once my CD was finished I would sell it and save all of the profit for my mission fund. My goal is to make half the money I need for my mission through my music.
I know how important serving a mission is, and I’m working hard to earn the money I need. While it was disappointing to not be able to play baseball anymore, I know the Lord has a plan for me. I can’t play baseball, but I can play music. I see now how the Lord has opened up a way for me to earn some of the money I need to serve Him on a full-time mission.

“When I got married,” says Consolación Pilobello of Pasay City, “I didn’t know how to cook, and I was too superstitious to go to a doctor and get prenatal care. Our first baby died.”

She begins to cry. “If only I had been a member of the Church then, we could have saved that baby!”

After baptism, she learned in Relief Society about water purification, sanitation, nutrition, first aid, and immunizations. “I learned how to take care of my children, myself, and my family,” she says. Her next seven babies were healthy. She is now ward homemaking leader—teaching what she has learned—and cooks for her family’s successful food catering business.

Recently a stake president shared with me a tender story demonstrating the power of the council system in building up the Church. He said that both the Relief Society and the priesthood had been working with a family in their stake but had failed to make progress with the parents. Primary leaders found the answer. Permission was given by the parents for their young daughter to attend Primary. Their one condition was that she had to want to go badly enough to get there on her own. Rides to church could not be provided. Because she had to go through a rough part of town, the ward council saw to it that someone would drive along beside her as she rode an old bicycle to church. Through summer heat, through rain and even snow, she persisted in going to church. One young man, who with his family was assigned to escort her on a snowy morning, was so touched as he watched the commitment of this little girl pedaling through the snow and cold that he decided to serve a full-time mission, citing this experience as the turning point in his life. At Christmastime, a family in the ward gave this faithful little girl a new 10-speed bicycle. This so touched the parents that they too began attending church. In May 1999 this young girl was baptized. What made the baptism even more special was that it was performed by the newest priest in the ward, her recently activated father.

During high school graduation ceremony, all kinds of thoughts can zoom through your head. What happens next? Are you ready? Will you and your friends stay in touch?
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.
Have you ever felt like that? Like your past performance in some part of your life has proven your abilities once and for all?
Don’t fall for that line of thinking. It’s one of Satan’s biggest lies!
“Once any of us conclude—‘That’s just the way I am,’ we give up our ability to change,” taught Elder Donald L. Hallstrom of the Presidency of the Seventy. “We might as well raise the white flag, put down our weapons, concede the battle, and just surrender—any prospect of winning is lost.”1
School can seem especially intimidating when you’re not doing well. With even a few bad grades on your record, it’s all too easy to decide that’s as good as you’ll ever get. But it’s not true.
“Who we are is not who we can become,” Elder Hallstrom said.2
Despite what nagging whispers of doubt or failure might reach our ears, we can always choose to look ahead and stop beating ourselves up over the past.
“There is something incredibly hopeful about a fresh start,” taught President Dieter F. Uchtdorf, Second Counselor in the First Presidency.3
When deciding to make a fresh start, don’t forget to pray to God for help. Tell Him you want to succeed and then pay attention to promptings and guidance from the Holy Ghost and from your leaders.
This might require a bit of priority shuffling. “Our daily conduct and choices should be consistent with our goals,” said Elder Quentin L. Cook of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. “Many choices are not inherently evil, but if they absorb all of our time and keep us from the best choices, then they become insidious.”4
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.
When we involve the Lord in our climb and decide to make a new start in any area of life, we can reach heights we never dreamed possible.

Matilda the Jungle Tracker carefully smeared mud over every inch of her face. Then she clung by her fingertips to the grass at the top of the bank by the creek. Of course, if I were a real jungle tracker, she admitted, there would be a hundred-foot drop here and alligators would be snapping at my heels. But then, she thought, scrabbling up onto the creek bank, in the jungle I would have a vine to swing on.
Matilda surveyed the area. The boys were just disappearing into the woods, and they hadn’t seen her.
“I think I’ll be Matilda the Spy,” she muttered, and she flitted from tree to tree, keeping the boys just within sight.
Suddenly the boys stopped, then turned around and listened. Matilda fell flat on her stomach and peered at them through the tall grass, while they scanned the terrain. A bug crawled over Matilda’s wrist, but she lay perfectly still and thought about something else so that her whereabouts wouldn’t be detected by the boys. When she looked up, the boys had disappeared again.
Matilda sprang softly to her feet like a panther. Her trained mind was alert and ready, and her reflexes were still sharp from her experiences as Matilda the Intrepid Explorer. As she darted across the clearing, she heard the boys shouting.
“Aha!” she whispered, shutting her eyes halfway as she did when she was Matilda the Super Sleuth. “They’re heading for the pond.”
Matilda knew a shortcut. When she had been Matilda the Mapmaker, she had mapped this entire section of country. She easily reached the pond before the boys did, then watched them through the cattails growing there. Just as I thought. They’re building a dam.
Matilda slipped behind a tree. She quietly aimed her camera at the boys and took a picture. She had bought the camera when she was Matilda the Newspaperwoman on her school newspaper.
Of course, she thought, if I were a real secret agent, I could blow up the dam. But they may be building it for the government as a special assignment. I’ll have to observe.
Matilda got down on her stomach again on the steamy jungle floor. Raucous cries of exotic jungle crows echoed in her ears. She narrowed her eyes to tiny slits—the boys were coming.
The boys sloshed into the water halfway up to their knees and started piling more mud onto the dam. They stuck a piece of cardboard into the mud for reinforcement, then built up both sides of it with more mud.
Matilda inched up onto her elbows and snapped another photo. Then she wriggled back until she was out of the boys’ sight and hearing. She hacked her way home through the jungle.
“Matilda!” her mother scolded. “What have you been doing? We’re going out to dinner, and you’re covered with mud. Get washed up now and put on a dress. Hurry up!”
Matilda didn’t argue because now she was Matilda the Diplomat. Besides, she liked bathing. It reminded her of when she had been Matilda the Long-distance Swimmer. She quickly bathed and put on a dress and combed her hair. Her hair looked quite nice because she had once been Matilda the Famous Hairdresser.
“That’s better,” her mother said. “You look nice and pretty, like a little lady. Come along now.”
Outside, the boys were passing by and they snickered at Matilda. She stared at them with her stern Matilda the Judge look. Then Matilda the Civil Engineer smiled at them and said, “You’re building your dam all wrong.”
They goggled at her unbelievingly.
“I have a piece of outdoor plywood,” she said, remembering the leftovers from when she was Matilda the Carpenter. “It’s much stronger than cardboard. I’ll give it to you.”
“But how … ?”
“Who told you … ?”
“Uh, thanks for the wood.”
But Matilda wasn’t listening. Her eyes were inscrutable, and her fingertips were pressed together. She was Matilda the Scientist, thinking about her next invention. It would be a quadruple-stage rocket that could orbit the earth, then reenter and leave the earth’s atmosphere at will at a billion miles an hour.

After a meeting with a group of students recently one young man waited to ask a question. “Elder Hanks,” he said, “what are your goals? What do you want to accomplish?” I observed his seriousness of purpose and answered in the same spirit that my strongest desire is to qualify to be a friend of Christ.
I had not responded to such a question just that way before, but the answer did put into words the deep yearnings of my heart.
In ancient times Abraham was called the “friend of God.” Jesus, shortly before his crucifixion, said to his disciples, “Ye are my friends, if ye do whatsoever I command you. Henceforth I call you not servants … but I have called you friends. …” (John 15:14–15.)
In 1832, to a group of elders returning from missionary service, he repeated the message: “… from henceforth I shall call you friends. …” (D&C 84:77.)
Today I would like to speak of one lesson among many that he taught us and that you and I must learn if we are to merit his friendship.
Christ’s love was so pure that he gave his life for us: “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” (John 15:13.) But there was another gift he bestowed while he was on the cross, a gift that further measured the magnitude of his great love: he forgave, and asked his Father to forgive, those who persecuted and crucified him.
Was this act of forgiveness less difficult than sacrificing his mortal life? Was it less a test of his love? I do not know the answer. But I have felt that the ultimate form of love for God and men is forgiveness.
He met the test. What of us? Perhaps we shall not be called upon to give our lives for our friends or our faith (though perhaps some shall), but it is certain that every one of us has and will have occasion to confront the other challenge. What will we do with it? What are we doing with it?
Someone has written: “… the withholding of love is the negation of the spirit of Christ, the proof that we never knew him, that for us he lived in vain. It means that he suggested nothing in all our thoughts, that he inspired nothing in all our lives, that we were not once near enough to him to be seized with the spell of his compassion for the world.”
Christ’s example and instructions to his friends are clear. He forgave, and he said: “… Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you.” (Matt. 5:44.)
What is our response when we are offended, misunderstood, unfairly or unkindly treated, or sinned against, made an offender for a word, falsely accused, passed over, hurt by those we love, our offerings rejected? Do we resent, become bitter, hold a grudge? Or do we resolve the problem if we can, forgive, and rid ourselves of the burden?
The nature of our response to such situations may well determine the nature and quality of our lives, here and eternally. A courageous friend, her faith refined by many afflictions, said to me only hours ago, “Humiliation must come before exaltation.”
It is required of us to forgive. Our salvation depends upon it. In a revelation given in 1831 the Lord said:
“My disciples, in days of old, sought occasion against one another and forgave not one another in their hearts; and for this evil they were afflicted and sorely chastened.
“Wherefore, I say unto you, that ye ought to forgive one another; for he that forgiveth not his brother his trespasses standeth condemned before the Lord; for there remaineth in him the greater sin.
“I, the Lord, will forgive whom I will forgive, but of you it is required to forgive all men.” (D&C 64:8–10.)
Therefore, Jesus taught us to pray, “And forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.” (See Matt. 6:14–15.)
Does it not seem a supreme impudence to ask and expect God to forgive when we do not forgive?—openly? and “in our hearts”?
The Lord affirms in the Book of Mormon that we bring ourselves under condemnation if we do not forgive. (See Mosiah 26:30–31.)
But not only our eternal salvation depends upon our willingness and capacity to forgive wrongs committed against us. Our joy and satisfaction in this life, and our true freedom, depend upon our doing so. When Christ bade us turn the other cheek, walk the second mile, give our cloak to him who takes our coat, was it to be chiefly out of consideration for the bully, the brute, the thief? Or was it to relieve the one aggrieved of the destructive burden that resentment and anger lay upon us?
Paul wrote to the Romans that nothing “shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Rom. 8:39.)
I am sure this is true. I bear testimony that this is true. But it is also true that we can separate ourselves from his spirit. In Isaiah it is written: “… your iniquities have separated between you and your God. …” (Isa. 59:2.) Again, “… they have rewarded evil unto themselves.” (Isa. 3:9.)
Through Helaman we learn that “whosoever doeth iniquity, doeth it unto himself …” (Hel. 14:30); and from Benjamin, “… ye do withdraw yourselves from the Spirit of the Lord. …” (Mosiah 2:36.)
In every case of sin this is true. Envy, arrogance, unrighteous dominion—these canker the soul of one who is guilty of them. It is true also if we fail to forgive. Even if it appears that another may be deserving of our resentment or hatred, none of us can afford to pay the price of resenting or hating, because of what it does to us. If we have felt the gnawing, mordant inroads of these emotions, we know the harm we suffer.
So Paul taught the Corinthians that they must “see that none render evil for evil unto any man. …” (1 Thes. 5:15.)
It is reported that President Brigham Young once said that he who takes offense when no offense was intended is a fool, and he who takes offense when offense was intended is usually a fool. It was then explained that there are two courses of action to follow when one is bitten by a rattlesnake. One may, in anger, fear, or vengefulness, pursue the creature and kill it. Or he may make full haste to get the venom out of his system. If we pursue the latter course we will likely survive, but if we attempt to follow the former, we may not be around long enough to finish it.
Years ago on Temple Square I heard a boy pour out the anguish of his troubled heart and make a commitment to God. He had been living in a spirit of hatred toward a man who had criminally taken the life of his father. Nearly bereft of his senses with grief, he had been overcome with bitterness.
On that Sabbath morning when others and I heard him, he had been touched by the Spirit of the Lord, and in that hour through the pouring in of that spirit had flooded out the hostility that had filled his heart. He tearfully declared his determined intent to leave vengeance to the Lord and justice to the law. He would no longer hate the one who had caused the grievous loss. He would forgive and would not for another hour permit the corrosive spirit of vengefulness to fill his heart.
Sometime later, touched with the remembrance of that moving Sabbath morning, I told the story to a group of people in another city. Before I left that small community the next day I had a visit from a man who had heard the message and understood it. Later a letter came from him. He had gone home that night and prayed and prepared himself and had then made a visit to the place of a man in his community who had years before imposed upon the sanctity of his home. There had been animosity and revenge in his heart and threats made. That evening when it was made known that he was at the door, his frightened neighbor appeared with a weapon in his hand. The man quickly explained the reasons for his visit, that he had come to say that he was sorry, that he did not want hatred to continue to consume his life. He offered forgiveness and sought forgiveness and went his way in tears, a free man for the first time in years. He left a former adversary also in tears, shaken and repentant.
The next day the same man went to the home of a relative in the town. He said, “I came to ask your forgiveness. I don’t even remember why we have been so long angry, but I have come to tell you that I am sorry and to beg your pardon and to say that I have learned how foolish I have been.” He was invited in to join the family at their table, and was reunited with his kin.
When I heard his story I knew again the importance of qualifying ourselves for the forgiveness of Christ by forgiving.
Robert Louis Stevenson wrote: “The truth of Christ’s teaching seems to be this: In our own person and fortune, we should be ready to accept and pardon all; it is our cheek we are to turn and our coat we are to give to the man who has taken our cloak. But when another’s face is buffeted, perhaps a little of the lion will become us best. That we are to suffer others to be injured and stand by, is not conceivable and surely not desirable.”
So there are times when, in defense of others and principle, we must act. But of ourselves, if we suffer injury or unkindness, we must pray for the strength to forbear.
Christ gave his life on a cross; and on that cross he fully, freely forgave. It is a worthy goal to seek to qualify for the friendship of such a one.
More than 250 years ago Joseph Addison printed in The Spectator a paragraph of sobering thoughtfulness:
“When I look upon the tombs of the great, every emotion of envy dies in me; when I read the epitaphs of the beautiful, every inordinate desire goes out; when I meet with the grief of parents upon a tombstone, my heart melts with compassion; when I see the tombs of the parents themselves, I consider the vanity of grieving for those whom we must quickly follow; when I see kings lying by those who deposed them, when I consider rival wits placed side by side, or the men that divided the world with their contests and disputes, I reflect with sorrow and astonishment on the little competitions, factions, and debates of mankind. When I read the several dates of the tombs, of some that died yesterday, and some six hundred years ago, I consider that great Day when we shall all of us be contemporaries, and make our appearance together.”
God help us to rid ourselves of resentment and pettiness and foolish pride; to love, and to forgive, in order that we may be friends with ourselves, with others, and with the Lord.
“… even as Christ forgave you, so also do ye.” (Col. 3:13.)
In the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

Third, we can come to know the Lord and trust Him as we serve others. I share the following story with permission from Amy Wright, who came to understand the principle of serving even amid a terrifying and life-threatening illness. Amy wrote:
“On October 29, 2015, I found out I had cancer. My cancer has a 17 percent survival rate. The odds weren’t good. I knew that I would be in for the fight of my life. I was determined to give it everything I had not just for myself but, more important, for my family. In December, I began chemo. I was familiar with many of the side effects of cancer-fighting drugs, but I did not know that it was possible for someone to be so sick and still be alive.
“At one point, I declared chemotherapy a human rights violation. I told my husband that I was done. I quit! I was not going back to the hospital. In his wisdom, my sweetheart patiently listened and then responded, ‘Well, then we need to find someone to serve.’”
What? Did he miss the fact that his wife had cancer and couldn’t take one more bout of nausea or one more moment of excruciating pain?
Amy goes on to explain: “My symptoms gradually worsened to where I generally had one or two ‘OK’ days a month [when] I could somewhat function as a living, breathing human being. It was those days when our family would find ways to serve.”
On one of those days, Amy’s family distributed chemo comfort kits to other patients, kits filled with items to cheer and to help relieve symptoms. When Amy couldn’t sleep, she would think of ways to brighten someone else’s day. Some ways were big, but many were just small notes or text messages of encouragement and love. On those nights when her pain was too great to sleep, she would lie in bed with her iPad and search for ordinances that needed to be completed on behalf of her deceased ancestors. Miraculously the pain would subside, and she was able to endure.
“Service,” Amy testifies, “saved my life. Where I ultimately found my strength to keep moving forward was the happiness I discovered in trying to relieve the suffering of those around me. I looked forward to our service projects with great joy and anticipation. Still to this day it seems like such a strange paradox. You would think that someone who was bald, poisoned, and fighting for [her] life was justified in thinking that ‘right now it is all about me.’ However, when I thought about myself, my situation, my suffering and pain, the world became very dark and depressing. When my focus turned to others, there was light, hope, strength, courage, and joy. I know that this is possible because of the sustaining, healing, and enabling power of the Atonement of Jesus Christ.”
Amy came to trust in the Lord as she came to know Him. If she had leaned even a little to her own understanding, she might have rejected the idea that she serve. Service enabled her to withstand her pain and afflictions and to live this scripture: “When ye are in the service of your fellow beings ye are only in the service of your God.”6

The fourth miracle was found in the power of prayer.
Ray wasn’t feeling well on the day Elder Gamble picked him up for his own endowment. His medication was making him dizzy and weak in the knees. They had to stop and rest several times between the hotel room and the car.
After a fervent prayer for Ray’s health and ability to proceed with his journey, Ray got out of the car and walked into the temple to receive his endowment. He had no further issues that day.
With additional support from senior missionary couples, the Felts and the Carrs, and President and Sister Kuhn from the mission presidency, Ray was able to perform proxy endowments for his ancestors. Elder Gamble described evidence of the Spirit in the celestial room later, where he saw tears rolling down Ray’s cheeks. “This is the first time I’ve felt a closeness to the Lord in such a profound way,” Ray explained. “I am in wonderment of His rich blessings.”
His ability to participate in all the planned sessions of his temple trip depended on how Ray felt, but on the days he didn’t attend, Sister Gamble says, everyone at the temple asked where Ray was. “It was like they were inquiring about a long-lost friend.”
Some days, Ray relied on the power of prayer to keep going. “On Saturday morning, [he] was feeling sick again,” Sister Gamble reports. “We said a prayer with Ray in the car and again he perked up almost immediately and was able to move forward with sealings.”
Referencing President Russell M. Nelson’s invitation to think celestial, the sealer said, “doing sealings is just about as close to thinking celestial as one can get in this life.”
Ray was sealed first to his parents, and then his mother was sealed to the grandparents who raised him. In total, 96 family ordinances were performed throughout the week. The group had many tender mercies and felt very close to the Spirit.
“I can’t even begin to tell you how idyllic it was for me to be introduced to the temple for the first time,” Ray said. “It was a joy unimaginable. I’m so looking forward to many more such visits… If only the same joy could be felt in absolutely every other location throughout the world and every single person could focus on the exquisite experience and peace of our Heavenly Father’s presence, there could not be any room for the hurt and devastating destruction that we learn about so constantly in our world.”

Aldershot Muslim community receive help from a local church for prayer services venue
With little time to find an alternative, at the end of September a local Muslim community were left with nowhere to worship. Chairman of Aldershot Football Club Shahid Azeem who worships at the mosque asked his friend, local councillor David Clifford, for help in finding a temporary alternative venue for worship.
David Clifford, who is also a member of the River Wey Ward in Staines Stake, called his bishop, Dan Grant to ask if the Muslim community could use their chapel until they found another place to worship. Bishop Grant was happy to help and said “We have been blessed to have a building which we are more than willing to share with our local community when we can safely do so. It makes me happy to think our Muslim brothers and sisters may use the building to worship and pray as do we.”
Shahid was thrilled and impressed that the Church would be so generous, the only stipulation being that a priesthood holder would allow access to the chapel and ensure that everything was kept tidy.
The leader of the Muslim community, Liaqat Hussain, commented that the simplicity of the chapel and lack of religious symbols suits their worship services perfectly. He also said “We are so grateful to Bishop Daniel and Cllr David Clifford for bending over backwards to accommodate us and make us most welcome. This is a great way to demonstrate the multi-faith groups working together in harmony.”
The whole process happened relatively quickly. Shaihid asked David for help on 29 September and the first prayer meeting was able to be held on 9 October, just over a week later. The Muslim community will continue to use the chapel until they find another place to worship. What a wonderful example of a community working together to find a solution to a problem!

Kendall Bean is a concert pianist who has been playing since the age of four. During high school he frequently performed with the high school orchestra and appeared as soloist in performances of Beethoven’s Second Piano Concerto and Rhapsody in Blue by Gershwin. He appeared in the Northern California Junior Bach Festival two years in a row, and in 1971 soloed in the Tabernacle with the Mormon Youth Symphony as the winner in the MIA Young Artists Festival. During 1974 he held a solo recital at BYU, won the Wakefield Award for piano performance, and appeared in the Stellar Student-Temple Hill Organ Recital Series.

Kendall had a lot going for him, and it is understandable that he had second thoughts about leaving it behind. While he was at the Mission Training Center, he found himself worrying that the Lord wouldn’t want him to pursue music after his mission. He wondered if he would have to live a completely different life-style, and if so, what his friends would think.

Kendall was fortunate to be writing to a friend who was very encouraging and supportive. “She told me that now wasn’t the time to worry about such things, and in essence, that it was only a tool of the adversary to keep me from the work I was supposed to do. She wrote that if I would serve the Lord with all my might, mind, and strength at this time in my life, when the time came to make these important decisions, I would be entitled to his help and assistance.”

As it turned out, Kendall’s worries were unfounded. The Lord didn’t want him to give up music; to the contrary, Kendall and other missionaries with musical ability were able to use their talents as a missionary tool. Proselyting activities in his mission included open houses and recitals to which many nonmembers came.

Kendall and others were amazed to find that they could practice adequately for these recitals in only an hour or two during free time while the others were playing basketball. “I found that the Lord preserved this talent for me throughout those two years, and it was there for the asking when I needed it. No one in normal life in his right mind would even have considered doing a recital with that little preparation, but when we give our all for the Lord, we can do marvelous things.”

The year after Kendall returned home, he soloed with the Utah Symphony and took second place in the Utah State Fair piano competition and in the State of Utah at the Utah Music Teachers Association competitions. (Incidentally, the person who took first place in both instances was Mack Wilberg, another returned missionary.) Kendall is presently director of the Young Adult Stake Choir in El Cerrito, California. He has received a scholarship for graduate study in music at the University of Texas at Austin.

“Invite Mr. Wood* to seminary.” The thought popped into my mind as soon as I heard the announcement, and I immediately thought it was crazy. Why would I invite my music teacher to come to seminary at 5:30 in the morning?
The seminary president had just told our class that we would be having a teacher appreciation day. We were challenged to invite some of our schoolteachers to join us for a morning of seminary where we would thank them for their service. The entire week after hearing this announcement, I thought about inviting Mr. Wood. Every time I went to seminary or saw him in music class, the thought came back: “Invite Mr. Wood to seminary.” After several days of this, I couldn’t ignore the thought any longer.
One morning as all the students in music class were getting out their instruments, I put my trombone aside and approached Mr. Wood. My heart was pounding and my hands were shaking, but when I opened my mouth to extend the invitation, I felt comfort.
To my surprise, Mr. Wood said that he would come! He was curious about why I went to seminary every morning before school and wanted to learn more. After giving him all the details, I walked away full of joy.
During this experience, I didn’t feel a burning in the bosom (see D&C 9:8). But I did feel the Holy Ghost. The recurring thought to invite Mr. Wood (see D&C 128:1), the comfort I felt when I invited him (see John 14:26), and the joy I felt after I invited him (see Galatians 5:22) all came from the Spirit. But if I had been looking only for a burning in the bosom, I might have not recognized when the Holy Ghost was prompting me.

I also looked in my filing cabinet for my cheque book, because I wanted to attend tithing settlement on Sunday. I needed to write out a cheque for some extra tithing that I owed. I couldn’t remember the last time that I wrote a cheque for anything, so I had no idea where my cheque book was. When I eventually found it, I looked at the cheque stubs and saw that the last cheque that I had written was four years ago. It’s no wonder that the banks want to “phase” cheques out, because very few people use them anymore. The only thing that I used a cheque for in the past was to pay my tithing every month. Now that I pay my tithing using a standing order from my bank, I have no need to use cheques anymore. Once I had found my cheque book, I wrote out a cheque for the outstanding tithing that I owed this year and put it into my handbag.
Isn’t Heavenly Father kind to us? On the day that I wrote out a cheque for extra tithing, I found money and was given furniture equal to the exact amount that I had written out my tithing cheque for. I had read about these types of stories in the Ensign before, but it had never happened to me, until that day.

At times in my life, I’ve struggled with feeling alone. Sometimes I’ve felt like I wasn’t important or needed. I’ve felt that even my closest friends and family didn’t fully understand what I was going through.
But when I went to an FSY conference, I felt comfort and peace from the Holy Ghost. This helped me know who I truly was and that the gospel is true. I started to look towards Christ and trust in Him and His Atonement. I realized that He knew me and understood what I felt. My perspective has changed, and now I’m trying to help others come unto Him.
Jacob C., Utah, USA

Sister Mayra is a recent convert from Ecuador. Her joy in the gospel skyrocketed immediately following her baptism as she invited friends and loved ones around her through social media accounts. Many family members and friends who saw her posts responded with questions. Mayra connected with them, often inviting them to her home to meet with the missionaries together.
Mayra’s parents, her siblings, her aunt, two cousins, and several of her friends were baptized because she courageously invited them to “come and see,” “come and serve,” and “come and belong.” Through her normal and natural invitations, over 20 people have accepted her invitation to be baptized members of the Church of Jesus Christ. This came about because Sister Mayra simply invited others to experience the joy she felt as a member of the Church.

Once I went with my dad to Sigatoka, Fiji—a great place to swim in the ocean. My parents were divorced, so my mum wasn’t going with us. Before we left, she bought me purple goggles. Sure, they’re just goggles, but she expected me to take care of them and bring them back.
At the end of the second day in Sigatoka, I realized I didn’t have my goggles. I worried that I’d lost them in the ocean. The first thing I did was pray that I would be able to find my goggles. I felt peace and knew everything would be OK.
The only person I told was my brother. He doesn’t believe in God and often criticized my beliefs because I am the only member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in my family. He said, “Yeah, you’re not going to get them back.” I told him, “I prayed about it, and I know my prayers will be answered.”
The next day I scanned the water while we swam. When it was time to go, I still hadn’t found my goggles. I accepted I probably wouldn’t find them and thanked Heavenly Father for His comfort and peace.
Then my brother suddenly shouted. He was holding up the purple goggles!
My brother still doesn’t believe in the gospel, but I am grateful for the comfort, strength, and assurance that come when I put my faith in Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.
Shreya S., Suva, Fiji