Gospel Story Finder

As the anchor on the four-man 1,600-meter relay for his high school in Kansas City, Missouri, Adam Mack (center above) knew a lot was at stake. A good showing in the sectional meet, and his team would qualify for the state competition. After the first two legs, his team was in third place. Then during the third leg, a rival runner pushed Adam’s teammate off the track. He recovered, but the team finished seventh.
Things erupted. Everyone was angry. There was profanity, pushing, and threats, and the crowd was yelling. Adam’s team members were in tears.
Adam was an example of how Mormons conduct themselves in a bad situation. “How could we rid ourselves of that horrible feeling of contention?” said Adam. “I stopped my friends in the middle of the field and told them we needed to pray. I prayed to the Lord that we would have forgiveness in our hearts. I asked him to take away our sorrow and our feelings of contention. I asked for peace and that each of us would have understanding. I also prayed that the Holy Ghost would be with us through hard times.
“As I looked up, my friends were crying. They told me they had never felt a power like that before. They thanked me over and over again. The tension and the hurt of the loss were gone.”
Although most of the team members have gone to college, they are still close. The bond they formed went beyond teammates to true friends.

There are many types of progress that one can make in life, but as I was recently preparing to teach Relief Society (for the first time ever), I started to wonder if I was lacking when it came to spiritual progress. I was teaching about a general conference talk given by Sister Jean B. Bingham, former Relief Society General President, about how making covenants helps to prepare us for eternal glory.1
I kept thinking, “Well, I can’t physically see or touch eternal glory, so how can I even know if I’m progressing on the covenant path?”
Lately I’ve felt a bit stuck. As a young single adult who has been baptized and received her endowment but hasn’t been sealed in the temple, I sometimes feel like I am at a standstill on the covenant path. I feel like I’m a board game piece that can’t move forward no matter how many times I roll the dice. I want to get married and make covenants with God and my eternal companion, but what do I do in the meantime?
How do I know if I’m moving forward?
I felt so inadequate to teach a lesson about the covenant path when I was uncertain of how I could move forward on the path myself. I had a lot of questions, so I started seeking out answers in the scriptures. And I was surprised to discover a treasure trove of truths. I truly enjoyed reading as I studied Gospel Topics, followed footnotes, and felt the Spirit guiding me to the specific answers I needed at that exact moment.
At one point I felt an overwhelming feeling of peace and actually looked up at the light in my room because I felt a sort of brightness around me.
That’s when the Spirit brought the words, “This is how,” to my mind.
Those words were the answer. I changed my perspective and realized that just by reading my scriptures I had progressed closer to Heavenly Father that day, and I could continue every day as I took steps to come closer to Christ. I recognized how keeping my covenants was helping me become more like Him, little by little.
I felt like I was finally moving my game piece forward on the board game of life.
Since that moment of personal revelation, I have made a more sincere effort to study and learn more about the gospel. I’ve changed my focus to daily progress to understand how my choices lead to eternal progress.
Elder Michael A. Dunn of the Seventy has taught that simply doing “one percent better”2 makes all the difference in progress. And looking back, striving to do a little better each day really has put my movement on the covenant path in perspective. And I’ve noticed many blessings:
Deeper love for the gospel
Excitement about scripture study and spiritual habits
More time to serve others
Deeper understanding of my divine potential
More hope and joy about life
Some days I feel like I am not progressing as much as I would like, and I am still faced with a lot of uncertainty about the future. But as I align my will with God’s, I feel gratitude for this time because I am learning and growing and deepening my faith, which means I really am progressing every day—receiving the blessings of God’s promises, focusing on the Savior’s gift of repentance, and moving forward on the path, one move at a time.

Ami lives in Okinawa, Japan. Because of COVID-19, lots of people there had trouble getting food. So Ami’s ward planned a food drive. She really wanted to help!
They all met at the Church building. They were careful as they worked. Ami wore a mask.
Ami put cardboard boxes together. When the boxes were full of food, she closed them so they could be taped shut. Ami kept thinking of how Jesus fed people with loaves and fishes. She was glad to help give food to hungry people like He did.
Ami followed Jesus by helping people who were hungry. Turn the page to read a story about how Jesus helped others.

One summer when I was 16, I remember sitting down and writing in my journal all the qualities I wanted in a future husband—testimony, good looks, sense of humor, money, education. I thought these were all good qualities. But when my oldest daughter, Becky, was 16, she came to me and asked, “What is the most important quality to look for in a husband?” By then I had been married for many years. I knew the answer to that question. I believe the most important quality we can possess is integrity. How I love the value of integrity!

Andrea Fawson thought she was hearing things when she was introduced to Andrea Fawson at a Young Women conference in northern California. But after checking out their well-mapped family histories, the two girls discovered that they not only shared names, but bloodlines too.

Andrea Fawson, 15, from Fairfield, California, and Andrea Fawson, 16, from Ukiah, California, noted in their conversation at the conference that they both had 13-year-old brothers named Richard [will the two Richard Fawsons meet up at a Scout camp some day?] and first cousins named Angela and Christy. Once they got home, they looked at their family charts and found that they were actually distant cousins. You never know who will turn up in your family history.

Father was a longshoreman. He worked on the docks, long hours, loading and unloading cargo from ocean-going ships. The work made him strong. His friends from the docks often came to our home. They’d sit me on their laps, muss up my hair, and always say the same thing, “Your dad is the best worker there. He does the work of two men.”
Work was important to my father. His parents were immigrants to America from Italy. They set up a small produce market in Boston, and it was there my father learned to work. He hosed the vegetables, swept the sidewalks, and carried groceries to the old wood homes of the neighborhood. He joined the navy after high school and was stationed in California where he met my mother. She worked as a waitress in a little restaurant not far from the base. Father came into the restaurant, night after night. After two weeks of taking his order, my mom said something about how much he must like the food. Father blurted out that it wasn’t the food that kept him coming back; it was the pretty waitress who was helping him. They began courting. Six weeks later, Father complained to her at the restaurant that there was something in his soup. My mother sifted through it with a fork and pulled out a diamond ring. She looked at him and said, “Yes.”
After his discharge from the service, he found his job on the docks, bought a home, and settled in. My sister Paula was born, and I followed four years later. My parents seemed content, but even as a child I recall them discussing their plans and their lives—what our family needed and what they wanted to become. Inevitably they came to the same conclusion: something was missing, but they didn’t know what.

Oftentimes we are like the young merchant from Boston, who in 1849, as the story goes, was caught up in the fervor of the California gold rush. He sold all of his possessions to seek his fortune in the California rivers, which he was told were filled with gold nuggets so big that one could hardly carry them.
Day after endless day, the young man dipped his pan into the river and came up empty. His only reward was a growing pile of rocks. Discouraged and broke, he was ready to quit until one day an old, experienced prospector said to him, “That’s quite a pile of rocks you are getting there, my boy.”
The young man replied, “There’s no gold here. I’m going back home.”
Walking over to the pile of rocks, the old prospector said, “Oh, there is gold all right. You just have to know where to find it.” He picked two rocks up in his hands and crashed them together. One of the rocks split open revealing several flecks of gold sparkling in the sunlight.
Noticing a bulging leather pouch fastened to the prospector’s waist, the young man said, “I’m looking for nuggets like the ones in your pouch, not just tiny flecks.” The old prospector extended his pouch toward the young man, who looked inside, expecting to see several large nuggets. He was stunned to see that the pouch was filled with thousands of flecks of gold.
The old prospector said, “Son, it seems to me you are so busy looking for large nuggets that you’re missing filling your pouch with these precious flecks of gold. The patient accumulation of these little flecks has brought me great wealth.”

On the first Sunday in January, I had the opportunity to make a New Year’s Resolution. This wasn’t a typical resolution to exercise more, read more books, or start a new hobby (I have plenty of those). My resolution came in the form of a temple recommend interview. Shortly following our block of meetings, my wife and I received a call from the ward executive secretary. He asked if we could meet with the Bishop and a counselor to renew our recently expired recommends. We accepted, and at the interview I had the opportunity to bear testimony of the Savior and resolve to more fully live in harmony with the teachings of the Gospel.

When my wife and I were first married our stake president was a prosecuting attorney, and when we went for temple recommend interviews we often felt like we were on trial because of his questioning techniques. Because interviews with him could be quite intimidating, we silently prayed on the way to the stake center for an interview with one of his counselors instead! I will never forget how, after asking the usual recommend questions, he would lean across the table, look you straight in the eye, and say, “Brother Gifford, what is the one thing that will keep you out of the Celestial kingdom?” Thoughts would race through my head and while he never asked me to divulge what this one thing was, it certainly provided an opportunity for introspection. I had answered “yes” to the recommend questions and yet I obviously felt that I had room for improvement. As my wife and I have discussed this, we realized that the one thing that may keep us out of the celestial kingdom would certainly be something that is already encompassed in the questions that allow us or prevent us from entering the temple.

When I was five, my mother had a problem with her back and she could not stand up for very long. One afternoon after lunch she and my two-year-old sister, Dafne, fell asleep.
I was playing a video game—my favorite thing to do. When I was playing the best part of the game, I thought about my mom. She always has to keep the house clean. Now her back was hurting her a lot. I thought I should help her and surprise her when she woke up.
I stopped playing my game. I went into the kitchen, stood on a chair, and started to wash the dishes. There were lots of dishes, but I thought Mom could sleep some more if I did this for her.
I was still washing dishes when I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Mom, asking what I was doing. I told her I was helping her back get better, and she started to cry. Then she said she was very happy because I wanted to help her. She hugged me and said that Jesus was happy about what I was doing.
I learned in Primary that we should be like Jesus. I never understood very well what I should do to be like Him. But because I helped Mom, I learned that the Holy Ghost helped me get the idea to help my mother when she needed it. The Holy Ghost helped me be like Jesus.

Every man and woman in this Church knows something of the price paid by our forebears for their faith. I have been reminded of this whenever I read the narrative of Mary Goble Pay, my wife’s grandmother. I think I would like to share a few words from that story of a 13-year-old girl. She tells of her childhood in Brighton, that delightful city on the south coast of England, where the soft, green hills of Sussex roll down to the sea.
It was there that her family was baptized. Their conversion came naturally because the Spirit whispered in their hearts that it was true. But there were critical relatives and neighbors and even mobs to deride and inflame others against them. It took courage, that rare quality described as moral courage, to stand up and be counted, to be baptized and recognized as a Mormon.
The family traveled to Liverpool, where with some 900 others they boarded the sailing vessel Horizon.
As the wind caught the sails, they sang, “Farewell, My Native Land, Farewell.” After six weeks at sea—to cover the distance covered today by a jet plane in six hours—they landed at Boston and then traveled by steam train to Iowa City for fitting out.
There they purchased two yoke of oxen, one yoke of cows, a wagon, and a tent. They were assigned to travel with and assist one of the handcart companies.
Here in Iowa City also occurred their first tragedy. Their youngest child, less than two years of age, suffering from exposure, died and was buried in a grave never again visited by a member of the family.
Now let me give you the very words of this 13-year-old girl as I share a few lines from her story:
“We traveled from 15 to 25 miles [25 to 40 km] a day … until we got to the Platte River. … We caught up with the hand cart companies that day. We watched them cross the river. There were great lumps of ice floating down the river. It was bitter cold. … We went back to the camp and went to prayers, [and] … sang ‘Come, Come, Ye Saints No Toil Nor Labor Fear.’ I wondered what made my mother cry [that night]. … The next morning my little sister was born. It was the 23rd of September. We named her Edith. She lived six weeks and died. … [She] was buried at the last crossing of [the] Sweetwater.
“[We ran into heavy snow. I became lost in the snow.] My feet and legs were frozen. [The men] rubbed me with snow. They put my feet in a bucket of water. The pain was terrible. …
“When we arrived at Devils Gate it was bitter cold. We left lots of our things there. … My brother James … was as well as he ever was when he went to bed [that night]. In the morning he was dead. …
“My feet were frozen[;] also my brother Edwin and my sister Caroline had their feet frozen. It was nothing but snow [snow everywhere and the bitter Wyoming wind]. We could not drive the pegs in our tents. … We did not know what would become of us. [Then] one night a man came to our camp and told us … Brigham Young had sent men and teams to help us. … We sang songs, some danced and some cried. …
“My mother had never got well. … She died between the little and big mountains. … She was 43 years old. …
“We arrived in Salt Lake City nine o’clock at night the 11th of December 1856. Three out of four that were living were frozen. My mother was dead in the wagon. …
“Early next morning … Brigham Young … came. … When he saw our condition, our feet frozen and our mother dead, tears rolled down his cheeks. …
“The doctor amputated my toes … [while] the sisters were dressing my mother for her grave. … When my feet were fixed they [carried] … us in to see our mother for the last time. Oh how did we stand it. That afternoon she was buried. …
“[I have thought often of my mother’s words before we left England.] ‘Polly, I want to go to Zion while my children are small, so they can be raised in the Gospel of Christ for I know this is the true church.’”

Only six months ago you faithful members of the Church of Jesus Christ sustained me as a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. This calling came as a great surprise to many, but especially to our grandchildren, who said, “But he is our Opa! He is just a regular person. He played with us, and he used to cut our hair!”
After the October general conference, my wife and I talked to our children on the telephone, and one of our grandsons said, “Since we were so far away from you and could not be with you in Salt Lake City, at least you should have waved to us when you were giving your conference talk.” We have not yet been with our children and grandchildren until this general conference, and so I wave today, hoping to make a grandson happy. I also wave to all of you wonderful members, whose prayers and love are so important and appreciated by my wife and me.
In my growing-up years in Germany, I attended church in many different locations and circumstances—in humble back rooms, in impressive villas, and in very functional, modern chapels. All of these buildings had one important factor in common: the Spirit of God was present; the love of the Savior could be felt as we assembled as a branch or ward family.
The Zwickau chapel had an old air-driven organ. Every Sunday a young man was assigned to push up and down the sturdy lever that operated the bellows to make the organ work. Even before I was an Aaronic Priesthood bearer, I sometimes had the great privilege to assist in this important task.
While the congregation sang our beloved hymns of the Restoration, I pumped with all my strength so the organ would not run out of wind. The eyes of the organist unmistakably indicated whether I was doing fine or needed to increase my efforts quickly. I always felt honored by the importance of this duty and the trust that the organist had placed in me. It was a wonderful feeling of accomplishment to have a responsibility and to be part of this great work.
There was an additional benefit that came from this assignment: the bellows operator sat in a seat that offered a great view of a stained-glass window that beautified the front part of the chapel. The stained glass portrayed the First Vision, with Joseph Smith kneeling in the Sacred Grove, looking up toward heaven and into a pillar of light.
During the hymns of the congregation and even during talks and testimonies given by our members, I often looked at this depiction of a most sacred moment in world history. In my mind’s eye I saw Joseph receiving knowledge, witness, and divine instructions as he became a blessed instrument in the hand of our Heavenly Father.
I felt a special spirit while looking at the beautiful scene in this window picture of a believing young boy in a sacred grove who made a courageous decision to earnestly pray to our Heavenly Father, who listened and responded lovingly to him.
Here I was, a young boy in post–World War II Germany, living in a city in ruins, thousands of miles away from Palmyra in North America and more than a hundred years after the event actually took place. By the universal power of the Holy Ghost, I felt in my heart and in my mind that it was true, that Joseph Smith saw God and Jesus Christ and heard Their voices. The Spirit of God comforted my soul at this young age with an assurance of the reality of this sacred moment that resulted in the beginning of a worldwide movement destined to “roll forth, until it has filled the whole earth” (D&C 65:2). I believed Joseph Smith’s testimony of that glorious experience in the Sacred Grove then, and I know it now. God has spoken to mankind again!
Looking back, I am grateful for so many friends who helped me in my youth to gain a testimony of the restored Church of Jesus Christ. First I exercised simple faith in their testimonies, and then I received the divine witness of the Spirit to my mind and to my heart. I count Joseph Smith among those whose testimony of Christ helped me to develop my own testimony of the Savior. Before I recognized the tutoring of the Spirit testifying to me that Joseph Smith was a prophet of God, my youthful heart felt that he was a friend of God and would therefore, quite naturally, also be a friend of mine. I knew I could trust Joseph Smith.
The scriptures teach us that spiritual gifts are given to those who ask of God, who love Him, and who keep His commandments (see D&C 46:9). “All have not every gift given unto them; for there are many gifts, and to every man is given a gift by the Spirit of God.
“To some is given one, and to some is given another, that all may be profited thereby” (D&C 46:11–12).
Today I know that my young testimony benefited greatly from the testimony of the Prophet Joseph Smith and many friends in the Church who knew “by the Holy Ghost … that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, and that he was crucified for the sins of the world” (D&C 46:13). Their good examples, caring love, and helping hands blessed me to receive another special gift of the Spirit described in the scriptures as I was yearning for more light and truth: “To others it is given to believe on their words, that they also might have eternal life if they continue [faithfully]” (D&C 46:14). What a wonderful and precious gift this is!
As we truly humble ourselves, we will be blessed with this gift to have faith and to hope for things which are not seen but are true (see Alma 32:21). As we experiment upon the words given to us by the scriptures and the living prophets—even if we only have a desire to believe—and do not resist the Spirit of the Lord, our souls will be enlarged and our understanding will be enlightened (see Alma 32:26–28).
The Savior Himself explained this merciful principle clearly to all the world in His great intercessory prayer, given not only for His Apostles but for all the Saints, even for us today, wherever we might be living. He said:
“Neither pray I for these alone, but for them also which shall believe on me through their word;
“That they all may be one; as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be one in us: that the world may believe that thou hast sent me” (John 17:20–21; emphasis added).
This is how Joseph Smith’s First Vision blesses our own personal lives, the lives of families, and eventually the whole human family: we come to believe in Jesus Christ through the testimony of the Prophet Joseph Smith. Prophets and apostles throughout the history of mankind have had divine manifestations similar to Joseph’s. Moses saw God face-to-face and learned that he was a son of God “in the similitude of [His] Only Begotten” (see Moses 1:1–6). The Apostle Paul testified that the resurrected Jesus Christ appeared to him on the road to Damascus and made Paul one of His great missionaries (see Acts 26:9–23). Hearing Paul’s witness of his heavenly vision during the trial at Caesarea, the powerful King Agrippa admitted, “Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian” (Acts 26:28).
And there were many other ancient prophets who also bore powerful testimony of Christ. All of these manifestations, ancient and modern, lead those who believe to the divine source of all righteousness and hope—to God, our Heavenly Father, and to His Son, Jesus Christ.
God has spoken to Joseph Smith for the purpose of blessing all of God’s children with His mercy and love, even in times of uncertainties and insecurities, of wars and rumors of wars, of natural and personal disasters. The Savior said, “Behold, mine arm of mercy is extended towards you, and whosoever will come, him will I receive” (3 Nephi 9:14). And all who accept this invitation will be “encircled about with the matchless bounty of his love” (Alma 26:15).
Through our faith in the personal witness of the Prophet Joseph and the reality of the First Vision, through study and prayer, deep and sincere, we will be blessed with a firm faith in the Savior of the world, who spoke to Joseph “on the morning of a beautiful, clear day, early in the spring of eighteen hundred and twenty” (Joseph Smith—History 1:14).
Faith in Jesus Christ and a testimony of Him and His universal Atonement is not just a doctrine with great theological value. Such faith is a universal gift, glorious for all cultural regions of this earth, irrespective of language, race, color, nationality, or socioeconomic circumstance. The powers of reason may be used to try to understand this gift, but those who feel its effects most deeply are those who are willing to accept its blessings, which come from a pure and clean life of following the path of true repentance and living the commandments of God.
As we remember and honor the Prophet Joseph Smith, my heart reaches out to him in gratitude. He was a good, honest, humble, intelligent, and courageous young man with a heart of gold and an unshaken faith in God. He had integrity. In response to his humble prayer, the heavens opened again. Joseph Smith had actually seen a vision. He knew it, and he knew that God knew it, and he could not deny it. (See Joseph Smith—History 1:25.)
Through his work and sacrifice, I now have a true understanding of our Heavenly Father and His Son, our Redeemer and Savior, Jesus Christ, and I can feel the power of the Holy Ghost and know of Heavenly Father’s plan for us, His children. For me, these are truly the fruits of the First Vision.
I am grateful that early in my life I was blessed with a simple faith that Joseph Smith was a prophet of God, that he saw God the Father and His Son, Jesus Christ, in a vision. He translated the Book of Mormon by the gift and power of God. That testimony has been confirmed to me over and over again.
As one of the least among you, but in my calling as one of the Apostles of Jesus Christ, I testify that He truly lives, that He is the Messiah. I do have a personal witness of Jesus Christ, the Savior and Redeemer of all mankind. I received this knowledge by the unspeakable peace and power of the Spirit of God. The desire of my heart and of my mind is to be pure and faithful in serving Him now and forever.
I so testify in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Robert Willmore, an assistant to the president of the priests quorum in Hibbard, Idaho, was working outside the valley when he learned of the disaster. He immediately returned home. “I was told our house had been completely submerged, but when I got home I found it wasn’t even touched.” He stayed to help clean the homes of ward members who were in the path of the flood.
One of the first wards to organize their cleanup efforts was at Hibbard, about six miles northwest of Rexburg. Aaronic Priesthood-age youths, including Robert Willmore, were organized into teams and were sent into the homes of the elderly to help them with the tedious task of cleaning the homes and repairing the damage caused by the water.

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.”

I also remember attending a meeting near Bancroft, Idaho, years ago. It was sponsored in part by the extension service of the University. We’d had a wonderful meeting, and after it was over, I was greeting some of the wonderful farmers who were there, and among them was a man by the name of Brother Yost, and I said, “Brother Yost, how are things out on the farm?” Brother Yost said, “Oh, things are fine, Brother Benson, but I’m about 20 thousand dollars worse off than I was three days ago.” I said, “What’s the matter—another frost?” He said, “Yes, it hit the wheat just in the dough stage, and you know what that means.” He said, “We’re starting the mowing machines in the morning, but everything’s all right. We’ve still got a little wheat in the bin, and we’ve got at least part of our year’s supply laid away. We’re not going to starve, and there’ll be another crop.” As we left him, I said to my wife, “What a wonderful spirit.”
We drove on down to Logan. We had our children with us, and we stopped on Main Street to go into a grocery store to pick up a few cookies for the kiddies. And who should I meet on the sidewalk but Brother Yost. I said, “Well, what are you doing way down here?” He said, “Brother Benson, it’s our day to go to the temple.” And I said, “Well, reverses don’t dampen your spirit any, do they?” Then he taught me a lesson. He said, “Brother Benson, when reverses come we need the temple all the more.”

Many years ago, there was a teenage girl living in Denver, Colorado, with her mom and younger brother. Her parents were divorced and the family was struggling to make ends meet. She was in high school and at a vulnerable age where you feel insecure and may not understand who you are or your potential. She had a good friend that invited her to attend church with her. She accepted the invitation and attended church. She continued to attend church and to participate in the activities. She later agreed to receive the missionary discussions and was baptized a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. I want to take a little bit of time to focus on the friend who extended the invitation. She was dealing with an ailing family member and probably felt the same insecurities as her friend, but the one thing she did have was the gospel of Jesus Christ in her life. Do you remember how hard it was to be different in high school?

She probably had a lot of the same feelings that we all experience when we extend this type of invitation. I am sure she was a little nervous. She may have worried that it could negatively affect their friendship, but she took courage and extended the invitation. She possessed the light of Christ in her life and she was willing to share it. I am eternally grateful for her willingness to share the gospel with my mother. My siblings, my children, and our future posterity will be eternally grateful for both of these two young women. I am standing here today because of the courage of one young lady that was willing to share her light with my mom to help her navigate her path and for my mom, who recognized and accepted the light into her life. Are you willing to share your light and to make an eternal difference in the life of somebody else?

These qualities of personal independence and a determined seeking for spiritual guidance were to characterize John Taylor’s entire life. At the age of 15, he became an apprentice to a carpenter in the town of Penrith, some 30 miles north of Milnthorpe. Here he continued to pray and here he was converted to the Methodist Church. He was a zealous convert and spent much of his time studying the Bible and encouraging others in the practice of his new faith. One year after joining the church, he became an exhorter, a sort of local preacher who assisted the minister in visiting the outlying circuits and working with those in need of spiritual guidance.
It was while on one of these circuits that young John received what he later recognized as a revelation that would profoundly affect his life. As he walked toward his destination, he turned to a companion and said, “I have a strong impression on my mind that I have to go to America to preach the gospel” (B. H. Roberts, Life of John Taylor, p. 28). This impression never left him and played an important part in his later decision to join his family in Canada in 1832. It was there in the city of Toronto that he was contacted by Elder Parley P. Pratt. Elder Pratt was instrumental in converting John Taylor and most of the Methodist study group John had formed in the city. When John joined the body of the Church in Kirtland, Ohio, in 1837, the revelation received on that country lane in northern England was fulfilled, for he was to spend the remainder of his life preaching the gospel, both in America and abroad.

Several years ago as I was preparing for further graduate studies, I chose to audit a math class. Given that I was still taking other classes and finishing my thesis, I thought this would be a great opportunity to learn, without the pressures of worrying about a grade. I did great for the first few weeks, but as time became scarcer, I focused on those things for which I would be graded on, and gave less attention and attendance to the math class. Without the risk of a grade and a commitment to do the homework, I soon fell behind and quickly found that I was so far behind it did not justify attending the class.
As with education, life is not a spectator sport to be watched as we sit on the sidelines. It requires that we are active participants and exposed to the great joys and disappointments that come throughout life. In every activity of life, we will at times fall short and make mistakes, but enduring the trial makes the joy of success that much sweeter.

Every single day, in rain or snow or darkness, she makes the trek back and forth. Just facing the ice-coated trail on a cold winter morning might make most teens think twice—or three times—about making the trip to Mutual activities or even to Sunday meetings. Not Ella. If it’s a Church activity, she’ll find a way to be there. When she had the opportunity to attend the dedication of the Anchorage Alaska Temple, she, of course, walked the mile and a half from her house to the road, caught the ferry to Skagway, got a ride with other branch members across the pass to White Horse, then boarded a chartered bus for the trip to Anchorage—hours and hours of traveling to experience something as special as the dedication of a temple.

Also, when you listen to children’s questions and comments, you can give feedback to clarify their understanding. A child visited a dairy farm with his school class and observed the cows being milked with the use of machinery. As the group was leaving, he tugged at the farmer’s arm and asked, “How can you tell when the cow is full?” The wise farmer turned around and took the machinery off one of the cows; then he milked the cow by hand so the children could see that milk was coming from the cow.

No matter what age children are, when parents or other adults really listen to them and then talk with them, offering insights to their questions and comments, children will grow in their understanding and desire to learn and seek answers.

I am uncertain at what stage in my spiritual development I finally decided to stop studying on Sunday. I do remember, following my mission and attending BYU (Provo) as a married student, finally unmasking my studying for religion class as a gratuitous rationalization. But I can clearly recall my anxiety when I left for graduate school at The University of Michigan, knowing that I would be "competing" against other students who were generally brighter than me and that I would be limiting myself to only six days of studying and working in the laboratory compared against their seven. I feared that my commitment to attend church regularly, magnify my calling as Elders Quorum president, and care for the needs of our growing young family might cause me to fail in my graduate program.

My faith need not have faltered: the Lord is good and His promises are sure: "Hast thou not heard, that the everlasting God, the Lord, the Creator of the ends of the earth, fainteth not, neither is weary? There is no searching of his understanding. He giveth power to the faint; and to them that have no might he increaseth strength. Even the youths shall faint and be weary, and the young men shall utterly fall: But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; they shall walk, and not faint." (Isaiah 40: 28-31). May your diligent efforts to keep this great commandment of keeping the Sabbath Day holy unto the Lord be answered with similar blessings upon your heads.