Gospel Story Finder

Students at the Vernal, Utah, seminaries had a chance to get up close and personal with the Uintah Tabernacle. Youth from the seminaries scrubbed, polished, and shined the tabernacle from top to bottom, preparing the building for visits from the public. The building is now closed, undergoing renovation to become a temple.

“For the more than 200 youth that attended the cleanup, it will be an experience they will never forget,” says one of their teachers, Brother Durrant. The building has not been used for church meetings since 1984, so this was the first time many of the participants had seen the inside of the building.

One day traveling on a Greyhound bus I met this lovely, young lady. All I knew about her was where she was going to school, her first name, and where she got off the bus. I said to my roommate as she got off the bus, "I want to have a date with that gal." So I went back to my college. I was a member of a fraternity at the time. I told my fraternity brothers about the situation. My one fraternity brother knew a friend who was going to the same school who was dating a girl from the same school. I asked him to find out from his friend who this girl was. I got her name and address and I asked her out for a date. And we have been married, how many years?

Don't let fear stop you.

I remember well an experience I had as a passenger in a small two-propeller airplane. One of its engines suddenly burst open and caught on fire. The propeller of the flaming engine wasn’t moving anymore. As we dropped in a steep spiral dive toward the earth, I expected to die. Some of the passengers screamed in hysterical panic.
Miraculously the steep dive put out the flames. Then, by starting up the other engine, the pilot was able to get the plane under control and bring us down safely.
Throughout that ordeal, though I “knew” death was coming, I was not afraid to die. I remember a sense of returning home to meet ancestors for whom I had done temple work. I remember my deep sense of gratitude that my sweetheart and I had been sealed eternally to each other and to our children, born and raised in the covenant.
The Lord has said, “Fear not even unto death; for in this world your joy is not full, but in me your joy is full” (D&C 101:36).
I realized that day that my marriage in the temple was my most important accomplishment. Honors bestowed upon me by men could not approach the inner peace provided by sealings performed in the house of the Lord.

The first story was about the power of the Spirit in the individual mind and heart of the student. The second story took place many years later. It is about learning and teaching in the classroom. By the time of this story I had joined the faculty at the business school at Harvard and was teaching a class on managing technology and operations. One day we taught a case on Honda. The CEO of Honda, a man named Kawamoto, sat in on my class. The case that day dealt with a very narrow, technical issue about the design of the engine for a new Honda car. The issue was: should we choose an existing design with a small bore and a long stroke, or should we go with a new design with a wider bore and a shorter stroke. There were a lot of data on the costs involved and a lot of background on the internal debates and positions. It was a hotly debated issue in the company.

Let me set the stage for you. There were 90 students in the classroom. I called on a woman named Kim Coupanas to start the class. She was fabulous. She laid out the issues, made a decision, and backed it up—all in about five minutes. I asked her a couple of follow-up questions and then turned to the class for their reactions. There must have been 30 hands in the air. In that moment, something truly remarkable happened. Over the next 75 minutes, the students in that class tore that case apart. They went deeper and deeper into the implications of the choice. My role was like that of an orchestra conductor. I called on students, asked an occasional question, summarized, and managed some transitions. But the students carried the whole class. They made comments, challenged each other, debated each other, taught each other, clarified, added to, and kept taking us deeper. It became clearer and clearer that what appeared to be a technical choice, with financial implications, was in fact a deeply strategic, fundamental choice for Honda. This was a choice about the company’s character, about the integrity of its promises and what it stood for. The stakes were high, and the students were really engaged. Remember this was a business class about engine design. But I felt a good spirit in that room, and it was an exhilarating 80 minutes. At the end of the class, Kawamoto-san was stunned. He told me that he was absolutely amazed that those students could get that deep with that much power. It was an extraordinary learning experience.

What happened in that class was, I believe, a gift. It came in part through the Light of Christ that is given to everyone. And it came in part because we were dealing with a true principle, i.e., “. . . out of small things proceedeth that which is great.”[3] But I have come to understand that it came in part as a gift to me, to teach me important principles that the Lord wanted me to know. That experience reinforced for me in a very powerful way the fact that we teach and learn on multiple levels. I can see at least three. At Level 1 we teach and learn facts, techniques, theories, and concepts. At Level 2 we learn and teach how to solve problems, how to make decisions, how to create new meaning and understanding by applying what we learn at Level 1. But Level 3 is deeper. At Level 3 we teach and learn about ourselves, about our strengths and weaknesses, about who we are, what we believe, what we stand for. We learn about character, and values, and what matters most. In that class, we got way beyond Level 1, deep into Level 2, and we began to address Level 3. Each student who walked out of that class learned that principle—and one other: they learned that there is no limit to what we can accomplish if we work together. The very smartest student in that class walked into that class with, at most, one-quarter of what the class as a whole produced. And the teacher learned too. I taught the case I had prepared. But what we experienced went far beyond what I had prepared. I learned that day that the classroom can be a place where “my grace shall attend you” as the Savior promised.

I can remember making many goals to complete the Book of Mormon. I made many attempts but would slowly lose interest and then start over again later. It wasn’t until my first year in college that I truly “experimented upon the word” (see Alma 32:27). I began getting up at 6:30 every weekday morning and reading for half an hour. Because I had an allotted time, I didn’t feel anxious to be done.
I began looking forward to reading the scriptures. After I read, I felt happy and peaceful. My whole day was affected. I could more easily keep a prayer in my heart. The Spirit stayed closer than before. My worries did not disappear, but my days really were happier.
I realized I was gaining a testimony of the scriptures. I had no idea that obeying the commandment to read the scriptures would bring me so many blessings. I felt as though I had been let in on a secret that only scripture readers knew.
Before I started my experiment, I didn’t really understand why we are commanded to read the scriptures, but I had a little faith—faith enough to read for a short time every day. And, as Alma taught, I gained a testimony.

Let me illustrate this point with a story. A family made plans to go on a fun trip together. They were excited to visit a new place and have some great adventures.

About halfway through their trip, their car broke down. They were sad and discouraged. They felt that all their efforts had been wasted, so they decided to go back home and start their trip all over again.

Now, you may say to yourself, that is ridiculous—why would they completely start over? But don’t we do the same thing sometimes? Sometimes we feel discouraged or falsely believe that one little mistake erases all the progress we have made. But mistakes don’t erase the progress we make as we strive to become more like Jesus Christ. As Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles explained: “Jesus Christ, the Son of God, died so that our mistakes might not condemn us and forever halt our progress. Because of Him, we can repent, and our mistakes can become stepping-stones to greater glory.”3 We need to be patient with ourselves and stay hopeful.

Photograph courtesy of Stefanie D.
I had always been an active member of the Church, but after my divorce, I lost focus of Heavenly Father’s plan of salvation and my faith. I met someone, and we started living together. My whole life changed. I felt that I was totally in the dark, and I stopped attending church because I felt that I didn’t belong.
But I did continue attending institute. And during this time, a service missionary I met at institute invited me to join BYU–Pathway. I was hesitant, but she promised it would change my life. So I decided to try it for one semester. However, I soon had my first child and didn’t know how to handle being a new mom along with pursuing an education, so I quit.
Later on, I remembered how great I felt during that one semester. I had felt so close to Heavenly Father and wanted that feeling back. So a year later, I started BYU–Pathway again, and many blessings came into my life right after.
I started a beautiful repentance process, married the man I was living with, and even received my temple recommend. Later, I was called to be the Relief Society president. Now I am serving as an institute teacher and love it! My husband has also been learning more about the gospel of Jesus Christ.
We will be able to take all the knowledge we learn into the next life (see Doctrine and Covenants 130:18–19). BYU–Pathway is not just an education—it brought me back to the Lord’s wonderful path.
Stefanie D., Wanica, Suriname

Mitch Dunford has been a member of the high priests group in the Santee First Ward, Santee California Stake, for most of the 11 years he has lived there. “Our high priests group has studied the scriptures together and done missionary work together,” he says. “We’ve given blessings to each other and to others’ family members. Our camaraderie is a natural outgrowth of helping each other honor callings in the priesthood.”
On the night of Sunday, October 26, 2003, the high priests in the Santee stake, along with most residents of San Diego County, found themselves under attack by the largest wildfire in the history of California. For nearly 24 hours, 50- to 70-mile-per-hour (80- to 110-km-per-hour) winds had pushed 100-foot (30-m) flames and burned hundreds of homes, killing 13 people.
Mitch Dunford stood alone in the hills behind his home with a garden hose in one hand and a shovel in the other. Earlier he had taken his wife, Cathy, and their five children to a hotel. When the evacuation order was lifted, he returned home to see what he could do.
“The fire was 4 feet [1.2 m] high and 30 feet [9 m] wide,” says Brother Dunford. “It was coming from two directions. It was so quiet. I just stood there, wondering if I could really stop this fire by myself.”
Meanwhile, stake president Chris Allred was atop the stake center with binoculars. With flames coming toward the Dunfords’ house, he began making phone calls.
“I was alone,” says Brother Dunford, with more than a little emotion in his voice, “and then one by one they came—the ‘boys’ from the quorum and their sons, each with a shovel. I was overwhelmed, yet it seemed just the way it ought to be.”
Fifteen minutes later the first wave of fire swept through.
“We beat the fire down and tossed dirt on it,” says Steven Schimpf, 15, who came with his dad, Bishop Randall Schimpf.
After the first wave was out, the second wave came. They beat back that one too.
A news cameraman climbed up to the group and was amazed to discover they were just some men and boys from a church helping one of their own.
“It was touching to have our home saved by my priesthood brethren,” says Brother Dunford. “It is so typical of the way they are. My neighbors couldn’t believe all those men and boys just showed up to help. But we know it’s what you do when you’re a member of a priesthood quorum.”

When I was seven years old, my mom and dad befriended a less-active family in our ward that consisted of a single mother and her two sons. My older brother, John, and I were the same ages as the two boys, Robin and Shannon, so it seemed appropriate that we extend a hand of fellowship.
The family didn’t own a car, so my father offered to pick them up at their home in a nearby city and give them rides to and from church. I remember the days Dad summoned my brother and me to accompany him to pick them up. I begrudged it at the time, but despite my groaning, Dad continued to give them rides until they were actively attending church and had their own car. Robin and Shannon were soon baptized and confirmed, and their mom began participating in Relief Society. I didn’t realize at the time the positive repercussions that would come from this act of service.
A few months before I began eighth grade, my dad passed away. To compound my grief, I was insecure about my physical appearance and lack of friends. I began to succumb to feelings of despair, and I spent my lunch hours walking to my house and back because I couldn’t bear sitting alone.
That same year, the family we had befriended moved into our school district, and Shannon began attending my school. We became immediate friends. I felt accepted, and I was no longer so sad. Knowing that someone enjoyed being my friend boosted my confidence and self-worth. I no longer had to spend my lunch hour by myself.
Our friendship deepened during high school. When our older brothers left for college and missions, Shannon and I became surrogate brothers. We received our Eagle Scout Awards at the same court of honor, went to the same university, left on missions during the same summer, and became roommates afterward. We were both married in the Salt Lake Temple to wonderful women, and our first children were born within three months of each other.
One evening shortly before Shannon’s wedding, we began talking about our childhood. I told him how he had helped me overcome my insecurities and cope with the death of my father. It was his friendship, I added, that had helped me turn my life around. Shannon then told me that if my dad had not given his family rides to church, he would not have attended church, served a mission, and been sealed in the temple.
The Spirit touched me strongly during that conversation as I realized the blessings that a simple ride to church had on our lives. As I reflected on Shannon’s friendship, I realized that my father not only helped save Shannon’s family, but he also prepared a friend who helped save his own son.

There were two young boys returning home late one afternoon. It was getting dark, and they should have been home earlier. Knowing they were in trouble, they decided to save a little time and take the shortest way by going through a pasture. The boys were well aware they should not go into the pasture. The property was posted with “no trespassing” signs because of the presence of a large, mean bull. It was getting dark, and since the bull was in an area of the pasture where he couldn’t see the boys, they decided to attempt the shorter way. After they had crawled under the fence, and were about halfway across the pasture—at the point of no return—the bull spotted them and charged in their direction. The boys began running, but one of the stopped and said, “Wait, let’s kneel down and pray for help.” The other boy said, “If you want to stop and kneel down and pray, you do it, but I’m going to run and pray.”
Whether it is talents you desire to develop or gospel standards you want to live, I believe you have to develop this kind of faith in order to be successful. It’s something more than just saying you have faith. You have to work for it. You have to live for it. You have to do all you can, as the little boy did when the bull was after him. He ran as hard as he could. You have to be worthy of it and then develop that eye of faith. It has to be firmly planted in your mind. You must know what you want to do, and how you will do it.

Wilford didn’t let old age get in the way of his work. One of his favorite activities was gardening outside with his children and grandchildren.
Grandson: Grandfather, may I help?
President Woodruff: Of course. Take that hoe over there, and help me get rid of these weeds.
One day, Wilford was upset when one of his grandchildren finished hoeing a patch of vegetables a little before he did—even though he was 90 years old!
Grandson: Grandfather, I’m all finished.
President Woodruff: I’m getting old. That’s the first time in my life that one of my grandchildren has ever outdone me in hoeing.

At a 20-year high school reunion, one of the graduates had a surprising conversation with one of her classmates that went something like this:
“I came to this reunion after all these years hoping you would be here so I could thank you. My high school experience was hard for me. You may not have known it, but you were the only friend I had in high school. I wondered if maybe the seminary teacher had assigned you to be nice to me. Did he?”
“No. He didn’t assign me.”
“Well, you didn’t know it, but every day I looked for you because I knew that you would talk to me. You made me feel better about myself. Now I am married and have a large family. During these past years I have thought many times of what you meant to me, and I wanted to tell you that.”

Jennie shivered and drew the patchwork quilt more tightly around herself. She snuggled close to Susan. Outside the wagon, the wind whipped fiercely across the prairie, snapping the white wagon cover above her. Frightened, she wondered if the big wagon could withstand the raging storm. Papa had said the wagon was to be their home on the long journey to the valley of the Great Salt Lake. But suppose the wind shatters this old wagon, she conjectured, then how would Susan, baby Sarah, Mama and Papa, and I get to the valley?
Although the wagon was cold and uncomfortable it did provide substantial shelter from storms, and it was large enough to carry the things that Jennie’s family would need to start their new home in Salt Lake. Besides all of Papa’s tools, there was a heavy iron blade for a plow. Mama, too, had packed many things. Her beautiful dishes were carefully wrapped in bedding and linens to protect them from breaking as the wagon creaked and jolted across the land. She had also packed a sewing box of scissors, thread, and needles. Along with the grain and vegetable seeds there were tiny packets of flower seeds. Lovely flowers blooming in the yard would help make their new house a home. There had been no room to carry furniture, so Mama’s beloved carved vanity had been sold, as had Papa’s dresser and Susan’s bedstead.
Jennie remembered their pleasant home in Nauvoo. It had been hard to leave it, but cruel men had forced them to go. Papa had promised her that someday they would have a new home in the Rocky Mountains where they would all be safe and happy. Now thunder rumbled loudly across the prairie, and the wind moaned through the night. Jennie buried her head in her pillow and wished that the days of happiness and safety would come soon.
“Sister Quigley! Sister Quigley!” It was Brother Olenslager’s urgent voice. The light of his flickering lantern could be seen through the canvas wagon cover. “Are you awake? You must come. My wife is having her baby!”
“Yes, Brother Olenslager, I’m awake and I’ll come at once.”
Jennie heard Mama hastily dressing in the cold darkness of the wagon box. Tonight Papa was gone, for it was his turn to guard the stock. Jennie suddenly realized that she would be alone in the big dark wagon with four-year-old Susan and Baby Sarah.
“Mama?” she whispered.
“Jennie, I must go to help Sister Olenslager. Please watch after the little ones if they wake.”
“Yes, Mama.” Jennie’s throat was dry and she could scarcely speak. How she wanted to cry out, “Don’t go, Mama. I’m frightened!”
“If I’m not back before morning, Jennie, you must get breakfast and prepare to roll at daybreak. The morning bell will signal when it is time to wake up.” Then Mama slipped from the wagon into the sodden night and was on her way to Sister Olenslager.
BOOOOM! A frightening clap of thunder directly overhead split the night, jolting Susan from her slumber. “Mama!” she cried.
“She isn’t here, Susan,” Jennie explained, trying to soothe her frightened sister. “She’s gone to help Sister Olenslager with her baby.”
“I want Mama,” Susan began to cry. “I’m scared.”
Jennie hugged her younger sister and said softly, “Don’t be afraid. Everything will be all right. I’m here with you. It’s just that this noisy storm woke you up! Go back to sleep now.”
Jennie held the trembling little girl in her arms, concealing the terror that she herself felt. Unbidden tears rolled down her cheeks and onto Susan’s blonde hair. Oh, if only Papa were here! she wished. He always laughs at storms. Jennie believed that Papa’s booming laugh was louder than thunder and his muscled arms stronger than a fierce wind.
“Shhh …” Jennie whispered. “Be still, Susan.” But the little one, shivering beneath the patchwork quilt, was not easily quieted. Soon her sobs woke Baby Sarah, who began to fuss and whimper.
All the while the storm grew wilder, and the rain beat unceasingly against the canvas. Lightening crackled, brilliant and white, and thunder boomed and echoed across the sky. A cold knot of terror tightened in Jennie’s stomach. She could no longer bring herself to speak to her sisters or to comfort them. Mama had told her to tend the little ones, yet she, herself, was frightened. Oh, what can I do? she wondered pleadingly.
Then Jennie remembered something Papa had told her before they had left their home in Nauvoo. He said that there would be times in her life when she might be lonely or frightened and that during those times she might have to do things that she felt she could not do all by herself. But even though he and Mama might not be close-by, she need never be alone. He explained that Heavenly Father was anxious to help her in times of need. He was eager to comfort her when she was fearful, and happy to be near her when she was lonely. All she need do was pray and ask for His help and her prayers would be answered.
Swallowing her fear, Jennie sat up and knelt beside her two sisters. Then she prayed with all her heart for Heavenly Father to bless her and Susan and Sarah and be with them during the storm. When she had finished praying, she crawled back under the covers.
Soon both Susan and Sarah were sleeping soundly next to her. As she lay beside them Jennie felt the cold fear drain from her own heart, to be replaced by a warm calm. And weary from listening to the roaring of thunder, she, too, fell into a peaceful sleep.

What goals are you planning to set this year?
I want to build my own spaceship and fly to Mars! Want to come with me?
I think I’ll stay on this planet.
Actually, I wanted to plan some ways to serve people this year.
Me too! I bet we could help a lot of people if we work together.
I was thinking that too. But I’m not sure where to start.
Well, what about that new family in the ward?
Oh yeah! I really like Jada and Tyler, but I’ve only seen them at Primary a few times.
I think their parents work most weekends.
Hey, we could ask them to come with us to Primary, and to activities, and …
And Mars will just have to wait.

Love, Amalie
Love, Amalie
Love, Amalie
Love, Amalie
Illustrations by Dilleen Marsh
Christmas was almost here. Amalie was excited. Soon she could unwrap the presents under the tree!
At family home evening it was Mom’s turn to give the lesson.
“Why do we give presents at Christmas?” Mom asked.
“Because it’s Jesus’s birthday!” Amalie said.
“Then shouldn’t we give a present to Him?” Mom said.
Dad helped Amalie’s brother Noah read a scripture. It said that when we serve other people, we are serving God (see Mosiah 2:17).
“Is serving others giving a gift to Jesus?” Mom said.
Noah nodded.
“What else?”
“Keeping the commandments,” Amalie said.
“Being nice,” Noah said.
“Great ideas!” Mom said. “Now let’s play a game. I’ll say a gift someone gave to Jesus. Tell me if you know who it was. Here we go. This person gave out Christmas cards at the care center.”
Noah raised his hand. “Amalie did that!”
“This person went home teaching.”
“That’s Daddy,” Amalie said.
Soon they had named lots of gifts they had already given to the Savior.
“We can give gifts every day,” Mom said.
The next morning it was time to clean the house. “Oh no,” Amalie groaned. But then she remembered. Serving others is a gift! If she helped Mom, it was the same as helping Jesus. She found a cloth and wiped the counters until they shone.
The next day Amalie earned some money.
“Your tithing is eight cents,” Mom said.
Amalie remembered again. Tithing is a commandment, so paying it is a gift. She put eight cents in her tithing jar.
Later that week Amalie helped pick up pillows. Her baby brother had thrown them off the couch. “Another present for Jesus,” she said.
On Christmas Eve, Mom and Dad told Amalie they were proud of her. “You’ve been giving gifts to Jesus all week long,” Dad said. “That’s like having a little bit of Christmas every day.”

Hastily, John Salinger wrote down the details of the assignment on the back of the list of materials to read: three-page paper due on the fifth, about world hunger, use the list of materials to be read.
The bell rang, and John walked down the hall toward the cafeteria.
When the Mormon students who ate lunch together were seated in their usual places in the cafeteria, John asked the question: “Did Mr. Perkins give your class an assignment on population and hunger today?”
Soon it was established that not only had John’s government class received the assignment, but also Kamio Kamura’s economics class, as well as Julie’s history class.
“It seems as though I’ve received a similar assignment at least once each semester from one teacher or another for the last three years. If it isn’t overpopulation, it’s abortion or world hunger,” added Lisa.
“And the material in the reading list makes it pretty clear what your conclusions are supposed to be: The world is overcrowded. No one should have a large family. Abortions are needed to control population growth. We don’t have enough food! But, I don’t believe all that!” protested Julie.
“Maybe we’re being unfair to the teachers,” said John. I think Mr. Perkins and the other teachers give assignments on these subjects because they are really concerned about them. And many of them agree with what the Church teaches.”
“Maybe so, John,” answered Lisa, “but how do we do the assignment when the teacher’s opinions don’t seem to agree with what the Church teaches?”
These young people have asked some interesting questions. Frequently, the opinions of teachers will differ from Church policies, the statements of Church leaders, and the scriptures.
“Let’s go talk to Mr. Morgan,” said John. “He has taught at this school for a long time and he has been a bishop and a seminary teacher even longer.”
“I can understand that you have a problem,” said Bishop Morgan, “but it’s not the problem you mentioned. You are assuming that you may use only the sources on Mr. Perkin’s reading list and that you must reach the same conclusions as the authors on that list. I have no doubt,” continued the bishop, “that you are welcome to use other sources, and to state other points of view, and to reach different conclusions if that is what your research leads you to.”
“But are there books and articles that support what the Church teaches?” asked Lisa.
“Certainly,” replied Bishop Morgan. “There are few fields of study without controversy. Honest, sincere researchers, working with the same data, may come to widely different conclusions and then publish documented articles and books in support of their conclusions.
“Some scientists are sure the world is overcrowded with four billion people. Others feel that the earth is capable of providing well for 40 or 50 or even 100 billion people.
“And among social scientists the differences of opinion are probably even greater because they work with the most complex subject of all: people. That’s why you get strong conflicting opinions like these. There are no easy answers.
“As Latter-day Saints, we are fortunate to have revealed truth to guide us in these controversial subjects, and we should be grateful for that. And there are many researchers, both LDS and otherwise, whose writings agree with what the Lord has revealed. Your problem is simply to find these writings and then decide which of them will be useful in your assignments.”
In the next three weeks John, Julie, and Kamio did a lot of hard work. Working together, they carefully read everything on Mr. Perkin’s reading list and then began doing research in both the school and public libraries.
They contacted various social service and government agencies and obtained some useful materials, references and statistics. Other teachers were consulted.
John and Julie and Kamio received top grades for their work in presenting the Church’s position. They were invited to present their findings to their respective classes and to answer questions from other students. They were well prepared with information to support their beliefs.
Best of all, they learned that there really are good and valid reasons for the Church’s position concerning difficult moral issues. They discovered that some teachers with strong opinions respect students who do good, thorough research, even when they disagree with them. And they learned that the gospel of Jesus Christ is always in harmony with the truth from whatever source.

This truth was powerfully illustrated by President Jeffrey R. Holland when he met with our missionaries in Curitiba, Brazil, in May 2018. President Holland spoke with his trademark passion, moving from the pulpit to the chapel floor and approaching the sisters in the front row. As you can see in this picture, for Sister McKenzie Baker, this was a moment of pure panic! For everyone else, they were just thinking, “Better you than me!” [A picture was shown.]

President Holland looked directly at Sister Baker and declared with all the love and fire of his soul, “You can’t have a million-dollar experience with 50 cents’ worth of effort!”

That phrase has stayed with me—because it reminds me that what we most desire always requires our best effort. And we remember that God’s blessings are meant to draw us closer to Him, not to simply impress us from a distance. The Lord promised, “Draw near unto me and I will draw near unto you.”39 Every small act of faith—every time we pray, study, serve, or choose to align our will with His—invites heaven’s help. As Elder Maxwell taught, “What we insistently desire, over time, is what we will eventually become and what we will receive in eternity.”40

James E. Faust always remembered the bleating of his frightened lamb. As a small boy he forgot to put his pet in the barn one night when a storm arose.
“I knew that I should help my pet, but I wanted to stay safe, warm, and dry in my bed. I didn’t get up as I should have done,” he recalled during a priesthood session of general conference. “The next morning I went out to find my lamb dead. A dog had also heard its bleating cry and killed it.”
“My heart was broken,” he said. He realized that he had not been a good shepherd. His father’s loving rebuke hurt him even more: “Son, couldn’t I trust you to take care of just one lamb?”
That day James resolved that he would try his best to never neglect his stewardship should he have the opportunity again to be a shepherd. As a full-time missionary in Brazil, devoted husband and father, successful lawyer, political leader, member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, and Second Counselor in the First Presidency, he remembered his resolution. To the end of his ministry, which closed on August 10, 2007, when he died of causes incident to age, President Faust remained devoted to the Lord’s admonition: “Feed my lambs” (John 21:15).

I decided to compete in a marathon with work colleagues in Western Cape, South Africa. I trained and worked very hard in preparation for the race.
On the day of the race, I woke up, read my scriptures, and prayed. I was nervous, but I also felt that I needed to trust in the Lord. I knew that if I did, He would provide sustenance and support.
We were required to walk or run 40 kilometers (25 miles). We started at 8:00 a.m. The weather was cool and slightly rainy, so at first I enjoyed the walk and was doing well. But when I was about 10 kilometers from the finish line, the race became very hard for me. I had muscle pulls in one leg, and I had some blisters. I wanted to quit. Then I began singing a hymn:
Fear not, I am with thee; oh, be not dismayed,
For I am thy God and will still give thee aid.
I’ll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand, …
Upheld by my righteous, omnipotent hand.
(“How Firm a Foundation,” Hymns, no. 85)
Over and over the words of the hymn flooded my mind and lifted my feet, and I finished the race in the strength of the Lord’s hymn.
This experience taught me that the gospel of Jesus Christ is about endurance. It is like walking or running in a race. We get tired sometimes, rest, and walk again. Heavenly Father does not give up on us no matter how many times we fall; to Him what counts is how many times we stand up and walk again. His gospel is about finishing the race.

Annie liked going to garage sales with her mom. One Saturday they found some jeans for Annie and some clothes for her brothers. Annie wore the jeans to school the next Monday.
In the cafeteria Jenny pointed at Annie. “I saw you at our neighbors’ garage sale. You bought those jeans there.”
Annie nodded. “Aren’t they great?”
“You wear other people’s old clothes,” Jenny said, laughing with her friends. “Garage-Sale Annie!” she mocked. The other girls started to chant the name too.
Annie quickly picked up her lunch tray and took it to the counter where the trays were stacked. In class she kept her head down and did her work. After school she hurried home.
She found Mom looking at a picture book with Annie’s baby brother, Hyrum. “Can we go shopping at the mall on Saturday?” Annie asked.
Mom looked up. “Why do you want to go to the mall?”
“I’m tired of going to garage sales,” Annie said.
“I thought you liked going to garage sales with me,” Mom said.
“I did, but one of the girls at school saw us at the garage sale on Saturday, and she told everyone I was wearing other people’s clothes. They started calling me Garage-Sale Annie.”
Mom put Hyrum on the floor and set a plastic truck in front of him. “I’m sorry, Annie,” Mom said. “That must have hurt.”
Annie nodded and wiped a tear from her cheek.
“Let me ask you something,” Mom said. “Is there anything wrong with buying clothes at garage sales?”
Annie shook her head.
“Did you like the jeans?”
“Yes, but why can’t I have clothes from stores in the mall like my friends do?” Annie asked.
“Your dad and I decided there are more important things to spend money on than brand-new clothes,” her mother said.
“What things?” Annie asked
“Things like paying tithing, saving for missions and college, and letting me stay at home with you and your brothers,” Mom answered.
Annie looked at Hyrum on the floor playing with the truck and smiled when he gurgled at her. Maybe Mom was right. Their money could be used for more important things. Maybe shopping at garage sales really was a blessing for their whole family.
“I guess I didn’t think of those things,” she whispered.
Mom hugged Annie tight. “I know it’s hard,” she said, “but sometimes we give up certain things so we can do other more important things.”
Annie thought about it some more throughout the day. “I’m glad we pay tithing and save money for other things,” she told Mom as she went to bed. “And I’m proud of my new jeans.”
Soon Annie wore the jeans again, this time with a bright blue shirt. When the other girls called her Garage-Sale Annie, she only smiled.