Gospel Story Finder

One day I went with my family to watch a rugby game in a school field. I saw an elderly woman walking around, looking for a restroom. I went over, took her hand, and guided her to the restroom. I waited by the door until she came out. She was so pleased with my help, and thanked me. She asked me my name, and I told her, “Charity.” She smiled and said, “You sure act like your name.” I felt really good that day, and I continue to try to find ways I can help others.

My son Derek has global apraxia, which means he has a hard time speaking. Derek loves family home evening and spends months preparing lessons to share with the family.
One of his most memorable lessons was “Lehi’s Dream.” He strung rope all over the house and outside too. We started the lesson by listening to a CD of the hymn “I Believe in Christ” and looking at a picture of Lehi’s dream displayed on the table. Derek then took us, one by one, along the rope.
As we walked along, there were pictures of Christ on one side and distractions (such as the radio, TV, and games) on the other. We knew we had reached the end when we heard music—Derek’s favorite song, “I Know That My Redeemer Lives.”
After everyone had gone through, Derek turned on the DVD The Testaments and had us watch the end, where Jesus Christ appears to the people of the Americas. The Spirit was so strong as my son conveyed his testimony of the Savior without using any words.
Wendy Thompson, USA

Many years ago I stood by the bedside of a young man, the father of two children, as he hovered between life and the great beyond. He took my hand in his, looked into my eyes, and pleadingly asked, “Bishop, I know I am about to die. Tell me what happens to my spirit when I die.”
I prayed for heavenly guidance before attempting to respond. My attention was directed to the Book of Mormon, which rested on the table beside his bed. I held the book in my hand, and it providentially opened to the 40th chapter of Alma. I began to read aloud:
“Now my son, here is somewhat more I would say unto thee; for I perceive that thy mind is worried concerning the resurrection of the dead. …
“Now, concerning the state of the soul between death and the resurrection—Behold, it has been made known unto me by an angel, that the spirits of all men, as soon as they are departed from this mortal body, … are taken home to that God who gave them life.
“And then shall it come to pass, that the spirits of those who are righteous are received into a state of happiness, which is called paradise, a state of rest, a state of peace, where they shall rest from all their troubles and from all care, and sorrow.”
My young friend closed his eyes, expressed a sincere thank-you, and silently slipped away to that paradise about which we had spoken.

One evening Susan and I stood near a window in our home and watched two of our little boys playing outside. During the course of their adventures, the younger of the two boys was injured slightly in a small accident. We quickly recognized that he was not seriously hurt, and we decided not to provide immediate assistance. We wanted to observe and see if any of our family discussions about brotherly kindness had sunk in. What happened next was both interesting and instructive.
The older brother consoled and carefully helped the younger brother back into the house. Susan and I had positioned ourselves near the kitchen so we could see what next took place, and we were prepared to intervene immediately if additional bodily harm seemed likely or a serious accident was imminent.
The older brother dragged a chair to the kitchen sink. He climbed up on the chair, assisted his brother onto the chair, turned on the water, and proceeded to pour a large quantity of dishwashing soap onto the scratched arm of his little brother. He did his best to gently wash away the dirt. The reaction of the little brother to this procedure can only be described accurately using language from the holy scriptures: “And they shall have cause to howl, and weep, and wail, and gnash their teeth” (Mosiah 16:2). And did that little boy howl!
After the scrubbing was finished, the arm was carefully dried with a towel. Eventually the screaming stopped. The older brother next climbed up onto the kitchen counter, opened a cabinet, and found a new tube of medicated ointment. Though the scratches on his little brother were not large or extensive, the older brother applied almost all of the ointment in the tube to the entire injured arm. The screaming did not resume, as the little brother clearly liked the soothing effect of the ointment much more than he appreciated the cleansing effect of the dishwashing soap.
The older brother returned again to the cabinet in which he had found the ointment and located a new box of sterile bandages. He then unwrapped and put bandages all up and down his brother’s arm—from the wrist to the elbow. With the emergency resolved, and with soap bubbles, ointment, and wrappers all over the kitchen, the two little boys hopped down from the chair with bright smiles and happy faces.
What happened next is most important. The injured brother gathered up the remaining bandages and the almost empty tube of ointment, and he went back outside. He quickly sought out his friends and began to put ointment and bandages on their arms. Susan and I both were struck by the sincerity, enthusiasm, and rapidity of his response.
Why did that little boy do what he did? Please note that he immediately and intuitively wanted to give to his friends the very thing that had helped him when he was hurt. That little boy did not have to be urged, challenged, prompted, or goaded to act. His desire to share was the natural consequence of a most helpful and beneficial personal experience.

Mother’s Day—Dad accepted my invitation and brought Mom out to the branch’s Mother’s Day program today. Bill came too. After sacrament meeting, I went with the elders to my parents’ home for a missionary lesson. After the first discussion Elder Johnson tried to make an appointment to come again and teach my family.
“How about right now?” Mom asked.
So the second lesson was given. Dad had to leave then to do the farm chores. Mom quickly prepared some sandwiches and salads for the elders and our family. About an hour later Dad came back in and ate, and the third lesson was given. Three in one night!
July 27—Tonight I baptized my family. It is three months to the day since I joined the Church. Our family is finally united. As I brought Mom up out of the water, she embraced me and shed tears of joy. We are recipients of life’s greatest blessings.

Five young brides dressed in white joined arms on the stage. The narrator spoke: “Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubles.
“Strength and honour are her clothing; and she shall rejoice in time to come.” (Prov. 31:10, 25.)
The scene was the finale to a special fashion show at a mother-daughter seminar sponsored by the Davenport Iowa Stake. The show included many humorous and inappropriate examples of dress as well as appropriate examples. “Many commented afterward that no talk could have put across the message of propriety in dress more effectively,” said Suzanne Romans, stake Young Women president.
The seminar was designed to bring mothers and daughters closer together and to help them both to understand the Young Women program better. The two-fold theme, “Lollipops and Lipstick,” represented lollipops for young girls and lipstick for mothers, also suggesting the little girl and mature woman in each.
The afternoon began with a special musical number performed by the Frogley family, followed by an entertaining talk on communication given by Sister Jackie Sumner and her daughter Kristy. In addition to the fashion show, each mother and daughter attended classes on the personal progress program and personality development and were given special folders in which they could put the handouts from each class.
by Karla Erickson

I think one of the things that drew me to Pamela was her loyalty. My parents were not members of the Church, but they taught me that it is important to keep our promises and be dependable. When I was a boy, I played a lot of football (soccer). My father watched me play and gave me pointers. He bicycled long distances, often, to do that. But I always knew that if he said he would come and watch me, he’d be there. His quiet dependability meant a lot.

As a young missionary I was assigned to a small island of about 700 inhabitants in a remote area of the South Pacific. To me the heat was oppressive, the mosquitoes were terrible, the mud was everywhere, the language was impossible, and the food was—well, “different.”

After a few months our island was struck by a powerful hurricane. The devastation was massive. Crops were ruined, lives were lost, housing was blown away, and the telegraph station—our only link to the outside world—was destroyed. A small government boat normally came every month or two, so we rationed our food to last four or five weeks, hoping the boat would come. But no boat came. Every day we became weaker. There were acts of great kindness, but as the sixth and seventh weeks passed with very little food, our strength slipped noticeably. My native companion, Feki, helped me in every way he could, but as the eighth week commenced, I had no energy. I just sat under the shade of a tree and prayed and read scriptures and spent hours and hours pondering the things of eternity.

The ninth week began with little outward change. However, there was a great inward change. I felt the Lord’s love more deeply than ever before and learned firsthand that His love “is the most desirable above all things … yea, and the most joyous to the soul” (1 Ne. 11:22–23).

I was pretty much skin and bones by now. I remember watching, with deep reverence, my heart beating, my lungs breathing, and thinking what a marvelous body God has created to house our equally marvelous spirit! The thought of a permanent union of these two elements, made possible through the Savior’s love, atoning sacrifice, and Resurrection, was so inspiring and satisfying that any physical discomfort faded into oblivion.

When we understand who God is, who we are, how He loves us, and what His plan is for us, fear evaporates. When we get the tiniest glimpse of these truths, our concern over worldly things vanishes. To think we actually fall for Satan’s lies that power, fame, or wealth is important is truly laughable—or would be were it not so sad.

I learned that just as rockets must overcome the pull of gravity to roar into space, so we must overcome the pull of the world to soar into the eternal realms of understanding and love. I realized my mortal life might end there, but there was no panic. I knew life would continue, and whether here or there didn’t really matter. What did matter was how much love I had in my heart. I knew I needed more! I knew that our joy now and forever is inextricably tied to our capacity to love.

As these thoughts filled and lifted my soul, I gradually became aware of some excited voices. My companion Feki’s eyes were dancing as he said, “Kolipoki, a boat has arrived, and it is full of food. We are saved! Aren’t you excited?” I wasn’t sure, but since the boat had come, that must be God’s answer, so yes, I was happy. Feki gave me some food and said, “Here, eat.” I hesitated. I looked at the food. I looked at Feki. I looked into the sky and closed my eyes.

I felt something very deep. I was grateful my life here would go on as before; still, there was a wistful feeling—a subtle sense of postponement, as when darkness closes the brilliant colors of a perfect sunset and you realize you must wait for another evening to again enjoy such beauty.

I wasn’t sure I wanted to open my eyes, but when I did I realized that God’s love had changed everything. The heat, the mud, the mosquitoes, the people, the language, the food were no longer challenges. Those who had tried to harm me were no longer my enemies. Everyone was my brother or sister. Being filled with God’s love is the most joyous of all things and is worth every cost.

At school, all of my friends were causing drama. They were fighting with each other, lying, and backstabbing. They tried to make everyone choose sides. There was a lot of conflict. I became very confused, so I turned to God by praying and fasting. I came to the conclusion that I needed different friends—friends who wouldn’t put me in difficult situations. But I was so afraid. I didn’t know how I could get new friends. But the more I thought about it, the more confident I felt that I could find new friends and move on.

I received answers in different ways. My family gave me advice. I also tried hanging out with new people and realized that I felt different with them. Since then I’ve been happier and more joyful. I’ve discovered more friends who help me feel great. I believe that when we follow God’s will, we can receive greater blessings and do greater things. Everything will work out in His plan.
Mekeli H., Colorado, USA

Parting can be hard, particularly when the parent and the child know that they may not see each other for a long time. I had that experience with my father. We parted on a street corner in New York City. He had come there for his work. I was there on my way to another place. We both knew that I probably would never return to live with my parents under the same roof again.
It was a sunny day, around noontime, the streets crowded with cars and pedestrians. On that particular corner there was a traffic light which stopped the cars and the people in all directions for a few minutes. The light changed to red; the cars stopped. The crowd of pedestrians hurried off the curbs, moving every way, including diagonally, across the intersection.
The time had come for parting, and I started across the street. I stopped almost in the center, with people rushing by me. I turned to look back. Instead of moving off in the crowd, my father was still standing on the corner looking at me. To me he seemed lonely and perhaps a little sad. I wanted to go back to him, but I realized the light would change and so I turned and hurried on.
Years later I talked to him about that moment. He told me that I had misread his face. He said he was not sad; he was concerned. He had seen me look back, as if I were a little boy, uncertain and looking for assurance. He told me in those later years that the thought in his mind had been: “Will he be all right? Have I taught him enough? Is he prepared for whatever may lie ahead?”
There were more than thoughts in his mind. I knew from having watched him that he had feelings in his heart. He yearned for me to be protected, to be safe. I had heard and felt that yearning in his prayers, and even more in the prayers of my mother, for all the years I had lived with them. I had learned from that, and I remembered.

As humanitarian missionaries we are constantly looking for ways to apply resources in an attempt to solve basic problems in our area. And just like the proselytizing missionaries, who are guided by the Spirit to those who are searching for the truth, we too spend time on our knees in prayer as we seek the Lord’s guidance for our own work.
Recently, we felt directed to the Association for the Physically Disabled of Kenya (APDK), a rehabilitation clinic, where we discussed their needs for clean water. We had heard that they were experiencing difficulties and had been forced to obtain their water supply in 20-liter bottles (as most of the communities do here). They were sourcing from a neighboring hospital where a sufficient supply was not always available.
We developed and received approval from LDS Area Authorities to pursue the project. We arranged for a hydrologist to survey the APDK property, but his report came back with a prediction of only a fair outcome. After reading the report, both of us talked about it and, because we believed the possibility of success was marginal, agreed to stop the project from any further development.
After making this decision, we met with Leah Mwachari, the APDK administrator—along with our LDS site monitor, Brother Kenneth Malahilu—to inform her that we would not proceed. But as soon as Elder Jensen announced our decision to her, Brother Malahilu spoke up boldly and reminded us all that in the Old Testament, “Moses struck a rock and the Lord brought forth water. The Lord loved the children of Israel as much as He loves His children here in Kenya, and He will do the same for us here.” Kenneth then bore his testimony to the three of us about the need to have faith, and when he finished, no one stirred for quite a while. The Spirit was intense. We then looked at each other and, smiling, both of us said, “I guess we will be drilling for water.”
A few months passed before the hospital came up with their financial contribution, simply because Leah had a challenging time convincing her boss to sign over any funds. They were apprehensive because of some past failures with boreholes on their land.
Nevertheless, the financial issues were eventually sorted out and the project was soon underway. And Kenneth’s testimony to us earlier would prove prophetic in a couple of ways. Good, clean water was struck at 45 meters, instead of at the depth of 60 meters, which the surveyor had indicated in his report. Secondly, the contract with the driller was arranged for a 10-inch borehole, which the hydrologist estimated was sufficiently sized to fill the expected 10,000-liter tank in about 8 hours. But on his own, this driller put in a 16-inch borehole which substantially increased the output flow.
As the project reached its completion, we held a closing ceremony with the people at APDK to formally turn over the project to them. At that time, we were told that this borehole was the seventh drilling at APDK—none prior had succeeded in giving them water. We thought about Kenneth—and his profound faith—and realized just how the Lord can bring forth water from a rock and bless His children. We felt the sweetness of the Spirit, and Elder Jensen—who sensed a strong prompting—asked if he might bless the borehole. Leah quietly nodded her permission and Elder Jensen offered up sacred words.
The borehole has now been operating for over six months and is still filling the 10,000-liter tank, plus a 60,000-liter tank, in an 8-hour day—three times what the hydrologist expected. And today the people at APDK are still enjoying clean water to drink and with which to clean, garden, and use in the fabrication of their casts, splints, and treatments.

“The missionary work of the Church is a panorama of more than a century of service and privations and hardships and sacrifices. The closer one is to the program, the more completely one can understand and appreciate it. When my grandfather Heber C. Kimball left for his mission, he and Brigham Young left their families destitute and ill and they themselves needed help to get into the carriage which took them from their homes. As they started off they raised themselves … and waved back to their weeping wives and children. Thousands of people came into the Church as a result of those missions, and tens of thousands have been benefited indirectly and are now enjoying the blessings of the gospel because of those sacrifices. To one who did not understand, such devotion and sacrifice on the part of those men would have been considered foolhardy and silly. But to the Young and Kimball families it was a mark of great faith. And to the thousands who will, through the eternities, call the names of those missionaries blessed, the privations and sacrifice were not wasted.”President Spencer W. Kimball (1895–1985), The Teachings of Spencer W. Kimball, ed. Edward L. Kimball (1982), 253.

Jeffrey Yee, 11, and his younger brother Ryan, 6, performed the parts of James and Joseph Kirkwood. James was one of the young heroes of the pioneer trek. He, his mother, and his three brothers had come from Scotland, and they set out together to cross the plains with their handcart. James took care of his four-year-old brother, Joseph. When Joseph was too tired to walk any farther on Rocky Ridge, James carried him. When they finally got to the camp, James set his little brother down safely by the campfire. James died beside the fire from the cold and exhaustion.
“I think that he was very responsible and brave. His little brother must have been grateful for a brother to look up to,” Jeff says about his character. “Because he was kind to his little brother, he helps me know it’s not nice to make fun of my little brother. He usually needs help because he is so young, so I try to help him.”

Watching their older sisters gain their testimonies has been a big boost to the development of their own faith. Erin remembers her first year at girls’ camp. She felt lonely, and the bugs were horrible. She wasn’t having a very good time, but her older sister, Lindsay, was there to help.
“She was being so positive and was trying to help me have a good time. I remember my first testimony meeting. I was too afraid to get up, but she got up and talked about her feelings about the gospel and how much we share together. We were both crying. It really strengthened my testimony. Even though it was five years ago, it still is a really big faith builder for me.”

In August 2024, I was selected to participate in a research exchange program at Sciences Po University in Paris, France. Although I was excited about this remarkable opportunity, I dreaded the thought of leaving my family for eight long months. After counseling together as a family, we prayerfully decided that I should accept the offer.
While in Paris, I was actively involved in academic research, Church activities, and temple worship. Paris is a beautiful city, rich in culture, full of educational and professional opportunities, known for its delicious food, stunning architecture, and pleasant weather. Yet, in the midst of all this, I felt something was missing. I missed my family deeply. I remember telling my husband during one of our phone conversations that if I ever make it to the celestial kingdom alone, I will not be happy.
That thought has stayed with me. The celestial kingdom is indeed the most glorious of all kingdoms, but without one’s family, even eternal life would feel incomplete. My time in France taught me, through experience, that family is everything. Nothing compares to it.
I came to better understand the importance of family history and temple work. This sacred work is not merely about gathering names; it is about gathering people, our family, those we love and hope to be with forever.

Being on the receiving end of such uncharacteristic kindness can change lives. In Naju, sixteen-year-old Seo Jin Oo is alive today, thanks to the faith and love of his family and dozens of gospel friends.
Jin Oo was at school, studying during a recess break, when a classmate flew into a rage and hit him on the head with a club. Dazed but still conscious, Jin Oo moved to the back of the classroom, where he fell unconscious to the floor.
For the Seo family, the next thirteen days were filled with blessings, prayers, and round-the-clock vigils. The summer weather was blistering hot, the hospital was not air-conditioned, and there were few nurses. Jin Oo’s parents, Seo Young Won and Kim Kyung Ja, were responsible for keeping their son’s temperature down by continually applying cool towels to his feverish body.
“There was always a member or a missionary there,” recalls Brother Seo. Members traveled to the hospital to give Jin Oo’s parents much-needed breaks. Jin Oo’s name was put on the prayer roll in the Seoul temple, and members throughout the Kwangju stake held special fasts.
“The doctors and nurses tried to prepare us for his death,” Sister Kim observes. “But we kept on hoping. We had faith.”
After two surgeries, Jin Oo awoke from the coma and, contrary to doctors’ predictions, has suffered no brain damage or lasting effects from the incident.
“It was an extremely emotional time for us,” says Sister Kim. “But we certainly learned what really mattered and where we could turn for help. Jin Oo’s experience has strengthened us as a family and as a branch. We’re closer, more unified, and more aware of others and their needs. We really do have a greater determination to love and serve others.”

Last fall Sister Rasband and I were on our way to Goshen, Utah, for a worldwide Face to Face event being broadcast to over 600,000 people in 16 different languages. The program was to focus on the events of the Restoration of the gospel of Jesus Christ, with questions submitted by young adults from around the world. Sister Rasband and I had personally reviewed the questions; they gave us the opportunity to testify of Joseph Smith as a prophet of God, the power of revelation in our lives, the ongoing Restoration of the gospel of Jesus Christ, and the truths and commandments that we treasure. Many listening today were part of that miraculous event.
Initially the broadcast was to originate in the Sacred Grove in upstate New York, where, as Joseph Smith testified: “I saw two Personages, whose brightness and glory defy all description, standing above me in the air. One of them spake unto me, calling me by name and said, pointing to the other—This is My Beloved Son. Hear Him!” That, brothers and sisters, was a miracle.
The worldwide pandemic forced us to relocate the broadcast to Goshen, Utah, where The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints has re-created, for filming, a section of old Jerusalem. Sister Rasband and I were within a few miles of Goshen that Sunday evening when we saw thick smoke coming from the direction of our destination. Wildfires were blazing in the area, and we worried the broadcast might be at risk. Sure enough, at 20 minutes to 6:00, our broadcast time, the power in the entire complex went out. No power! No broadcast. There was one generator that some thought we might be able to power up, but there was no assurance it could sustain the sophisticated equipment at hand.
All of us on the program, including narrators, musicians, and technicians—even 20 young adults from our own extended family—were fully invested in what was to take place. I stepped away from their tears and confusion and pleaded with the Lord for a miracle. “Heavenly Father,” I prayed, “I have rarely asked for a miracle, but I am asking for one now. This meeting must happen for all our young adults around the world. We need the power to go on if it be Thy will.”
Seven minutes after 6:00, as quickly as the power had gone out, it came back on. Everything started working, from the music and microphones to the videos and all the transmission equipment. We were off and running. We had experienced a miracle.
As Sister Rasband and I were in the car returning home later that evening, President and Sister Nelson texted us with this message: “Ron, we want you to know that as soon as we heard the power was out, we prayed for a miracle.”
In latter-day scripture it is written, “For I, the Lord, have put forth my hand to exert the powers of heaven; ye cannot see it now, yet a little while and ye shall see it, and know that I am, and that I will come and reign with my people.”
That is exactly what happened. The Lord had put forth His hand, and the power came on.

The operation continued on a small scale for several weeks. Lt. Halvorsen began dropping not only his own candy rations, but also those that were contributed by the other men in his company. One day he walked into headquarters and noticed a stack of mail addressed to “Uncle Wiggly Wings” and “Chocolate Flyer,” Tempelhof Air Base. Since he was unsure about how the air force would react, he quickly left but was called in by his commander a few days later.
“What have you been doing?” queried the senior officer. To Lt. Halvorsen’s surprise, his commander told him that a candy bar that had been dropped on the end of a runway had hit a German reporter in the head, and the story was now all over the front pages in Berlin.
“The German people loved it and that kept me from getting into trouble. My commander thanked me for the good idea and gave permission to continue the candy flying,” said Col. Halvorsen. The servicemen were by now contributing not only their candy rations but also their handkerchiefs. They soon ran out of handkerchiefs, and the men donated shirtsleeves to be used as parachutes. Finally they began attaching notes asking that the parachutes be returned to use again; most were.

Hi! My name is Breana Johnson, and I am a Merrie Miss. I have been working on my Gospel in Action program. I had a hard time thinking up a goal for the family area. I wanted to do something different, but I also wanted to do something my whole family could learn from. Most important, I wanted it to be fun for my seven sisters and my mom and dad.
When my mother came home from a women’s conference in our stake, she told me about the different classes she had attended and the many things she had learned. I could tell without even asking that it had been fun, so I decided that for my family goal I would organize the Johnson Family Conference.
I wrote a note to everyone in the family who could read, asking them to prepare a five-minute class on “How Our Family Can Be Happier.” The note also told them that the conference would be the following Sunday at four o’clock and that the theme would be “The Secret Is Love.” My sisters got excited and asked me all about what we were going to do.
All week our house was buzzing like a beehive. Everyone was getting his or her class ready but keeping it a secret from everyone else. I decided to do my class on sharing with others.
I made a program for every member of my family by folding sheets of paper in half. On the front I wrote, “Johnson’s Conference.” Below that, in red letters, I wrote, “The Secret Is Love.” On the inside I wrote the program:
Opening prayer: Mariah
Opening Song: “As I Have Loved You”
4:10 Den—Mom’s lesson
4:15 Living room—Dad’s lesson
4:20 Laresa’s room—Laresa’s lesson
4:25 Talena’s room—Talena’s lesson
4:30 Nursery—Breana’s lesson
4:35 Family room—Anissa’s lesson
4:40 Mariah’s room—Mariah’s lesson
4:45 Dining room
Closing prayer: Mom
REFRESHMENTS IN THE KITCHEN!
When my littlest sisters discovered what was going on, they wanted to do a class, too, even though they couldn’t read. So I helped Kirsha and Meleah learn a flannel board story, which they gave in the family room after Anissa’s lesson.
When Sunday finally came, everyone was ready and excited. We started in the dining room, then traveled around the house to each class. It was fun to go into the different rooms and find posters and pictures waiting. And in each room we were given handouts with a scripture or a picture or a poem that would help us remember what had been taught there. By the time we finished, I had a whole bunch of cute things to hang on the bulletin board in my bedroom.
After all the lessons, we met back in the dining room and had a special family testimony meeting. Testimonies were borne by each person in our family. It was a very special time. I felt a lot of love for my family, and I could tell that the rest of my family felt the same way.
After the testimony meeting, we had a closing prayer. Then I served the fudge pudding cake I had made. We lingered at the table, talking and laughing. We were having such a great time that no one wanted our family conference to end.
Finally some of my sisters started to leave. But before they went, they all said that they wanted to have another Johnson Family Conference sometime. I felt very happy. Maybe I’ve even started a new Johnson family tradition!

“I invited a brother to come to my office for an interview,” says President Marin. “When he arrived, we chatted for a few minutes, and then I asked him why he hadn’t been to church for some time. His excuses were just little things—it was hard to get up early; sometimes the talks were boring; he had just fallen into the habit of not coming. I asked him if he paid tithing. Yes. If he obeyed the Word of Wisdom. Yes. If he sustained his leaders. Yes. And so it went. ‘Come back to Christ,’ I told him. ‘Come and help us bring others back.’” The man responded well, and, since he was worthy, “we presented his name at stake conference the next day and ordained him an elder. He has been faithful ever since.”