Gospel Story Finder

“I was not a member of the Church until I was past Primary age,” remembers Elder Howard W. Hunter of the Quorum of the Twelve. “My father was not a member either (although he joined the Church later), but my mother was Primary president, and later Mutual president, in our little branch in Boise, Idaho, which was then in the Northwestern States Mission. Our meetinghouse was a single room. Curtains were hung from cross wires to divide the room into sections. Besides passing the sacrament, it was the deacon’s job to pull the curtains when we separated for classes. Since I wasn’t a member of the Church, I wasn’t able to perform these duties. I did attend meetings, however, and I joined the Scout troop. I became the first Eagle Scout of that troop and the second Eagle Scout in Boise, Idaho.
“When I was thirteen, I decided I didn’t want to be different from the rest of the boys, so I asked my father if I could be baptized. My sister and I were baptized the same day.”
By the time Elder Hunter was twelve years old, a stake had been organized and the Boise Ward wanted to build a new chapel. The members were asked to pledge what they could afford toward construction of the new building. The first person to pledge was Howard Hunter! He pledged twenty-five dollars. “That was a lot of money to a boy in 1919,” reflected Elder Hunter.
Elder Hunter related many experiences about growing up in the rural area of Boise. His father was a railroad worker and was often away from home on weekends. But the family did many things together. Elder Hunter remembers especially having good times with his sister, Dorothy, to whom he is still very close.
“We didn’t have many modern conveniences. We had kerosene lamps, and rest room facilities were about fifty paces from the back door. In back of the house was a cellar where Mother stored all her canned fruits and vegetables. We had a vegetable garden, a berry patch, and fruit trees.
“I remember that my father once said to me, ‘You know, it would help if you weeded the garden.’ I thought I would surprise him and do it, but I hoed down all of the potatoes he had planted, thinking they were weeds! That was about the extent of that.”
As a child, Elder Hunter loved pets. “We had chickens that I took care of. And my dad built me some pens for my rabbits. I also had a little fox terrier by the name of Daisy. Daisy was my pal and followed me everywhere I went.
“I was a great collector of almost everything. I had a stamp collection, a coin collection, and a collection of birds’ eggs. Not far from where we lived, there were swamps, cattails, and a variety of trees. Every bird you could imagine lived there. I knew where all the birds and their nests were, so my egg collection was large.”
Elder Hunter became interested in music. He learned to play the piano, saxophone, clarinet, trumpet, drums, and marimba. He organized a dance band, and when he graduated from high school, the band toured the Orient aboard the SS President Jackson. The band played in China, Japan, and the Philippines.
Elder Hunter has served as president of the Polynesian Cultural Center in Hawaii, as president of the Church Genealogical Society, as a bishop, and as a stake president. He is now a General Authority. Recalling his service in the Church, he said, “One of my prized assignments was adviser to the Primary, where I served for about ten years. I visited Primaries all over the world and never missed an opportunity to visit a Primary group.”
Elder Hunter related an experience he had during the time he served as president of the Genealogical Society: “I went to see President McKay one day after a computer representative told me that his company had developed a cylinder that would hold a billion bits of information. I was excited! This was a break-through for genealogical record keeping. As I told President McKay about it, I said, ‘Isn’t that marvelous?’ He replied, ‘What’s marvelous about that? You haven’t had use for it before, have you?’ I replied, ‘No, we are just at that point now.’ And he said, ‘Well, that’s the reason the Lord has provided it now.’”
Because Elder Hunter kept diaries as a boy and has continued to do so throughout his life, he urges all the children of the world to do the same. “Even if you don’t think you do anything important, write down what you do every day. Nothing is too unimportant to go into your daily journal. Encourage your family to keep a journal also. They are treasured records.”

Soren was also his father’s student in the art of living. When Knud Edsberg joined the Church in 1961, he invited his son to join him in his newly discovered faith. Sixteen-year-old Soren wasn’t particularly interested in religion at the time. But after his father told him how much it meant to him, Soren agreed to be baptized. “I had always loved my father and respected him,” he explains. “Whenever he asked me to do something, I usually did it.”

As a new member of the Church, Soren knew little about the Church or its teachings. For the first month, he did not even attend church meetings. Finally, feeling obligated to learn what the gospel was about, he read a pamphlet about the Book of Mormon. From that small pamphlet he gained a testimony that the Book of Mormon truly is the word of God. That realization forever changed the course of Soren Edsberg’s life.

For one thing, he became devoted to serving the Lord. Just a few weeks after his conversion to the Book of Mormon, he was called to be a regular speaker in missionary meetings. Since then, he has served as a branch president, mission public relations director, high councilor, and Young Men president.

Another event that changed his life occurred in his Copenhagen (Denmark) branch when he met his wife, Johnna—a convert to the Church and a piano student at the Danish Royal Academy of Music. The Edsbergs were sealed in the Swiss Temple and have continued a life of Church service. Soren is now mission leader and Johnna is Young Women president in the Slagelse (Denmark) Branch. The Edsbergs have seven children, ranging in age from three to seventeen. In a country where families average one or two children, you can see the Edsbergs’s commitment to family values by their large family.

One of the most obvious changes in Soren Edsberg’s life involves his artistic course. “Of course, when you learn the gospel, it becomes your whole life,” says Soren, now forty. Now, instead of seeing artistic success as an end in itself, he sees his art as a means of serving the Lord and building the kingdom.

His desire to serve through his art has even transformed his painting style. “I thought about how important it is to be a missionary in everything we do,” Soren recalls. “I felt that if I wanted to do missionary work, I had to paint in a way that would communicate with people today.” Because in Europe realistic painting was not well accepted, he began to paint in an impressionistic style. Later, he turned to abstract art, always trying to make his paintings express positive values and gospel truths.

Brother Edsberg’s work has been exhibited by the Association of National Art in the Charlottenborg Palace, home of the Danish Royal Academy of National Arts. His paintings have hung in several museums in Europe, where his work has been a popular success. But he judges his work by its ability to influence the one who looks at it for good, not by its ability to sell.

He tells about one of his series of abstract paintings that was inspired directly by the scriptures and that had a scriptural “text” inscribed either on the back or below the painting. “My barber told me that he had seen them in a public show,” he recalls delightedly. “Then he quoted a scripture on one of the paintings word for word. It had made an impression on him, even though he didn’t believe in God.”

Soren Edsberg’s personality is warm and engaging, with just a hint of reserve. He becomes enthusiastic when he describes his latest work. It is a series of abstract paintings titled The Course of Life. It was inspired by an aerial view of the earth—looking down at people traveling on freeways and streets, all on various courses. The artist wants people to consider where their course is taking them. “Many times we have a goal,” he explains, “but without realizing we are on a course that is taking us away from that goal. I want people to think in an eternal way.”

The president of the International Association of Art Critics in Geneva, Switzerland, Alexandre Cirici Pellecier, has said that Edsberg’s Course of Life paintings, though truly abstract, are paintings with a positive message that is easy for the viewer to understand. Since Soren’s major goal is to be a missionary, this is high praise.

And missionary opportunities in Denmark—where religion plays little role in most lives—are not always easy to come by. “If you are a member of any ‘sect,’ you are seen either as not very intelligent, or as a weak person who needs something to hold onto, or as a crook who is trying to gain something from it,” says Soren. Even though missionary work can be difficult in such a setting, Soren has had some good experiences—the one closest to his heart in his own family.

Although three of the Knud Edsberg family—Knud, Soren, and Soren’s sister, Birgitte—were members of the Church, their wife and mother, Kirsten Edsberg, remained firmly Lutheran. For years, the family and church leaders had tried to convert her. Finally, Knud Edsberg became discouraged. “One morning my father came to my house. He stood in the doorway crying because he was so sad.”

Soren felt the Spirit come to him. He put his arms around his father and said, “Mother will be a member now. And when I say ‘now,’ I don’t mean in a year or two. I mean now.” After his father had left, Soren went to see his mother. “After I had talked to her for about ten minutes, she said, ‘I would like to be baptized now.’” Father, mother, and son wept together for joy.

A short time after her baptism, Kirsten Edsberg got cancer. As the disease progressed, Soren and his sister became disturbed. Their mother’s patriarchal blessing promised that she would live to fulfill her life’s mission. But she had not yet had her children sealed to her, nor had she had opportunities for church service.

When at last the doctors felt that she would die within days and had withdrawn all medicine except for pain killers, the elder Brother Edsberg called on Soren to give his mother another blessing. After several days of fasting and praying, says Soren, “I felt I had permission to tell the disease to obey the priesthood and to leave so my mother would be able to complete her mission in this life.” Kirsten Edsberg recovered and was able to go to the Swiss Temple to be sealed to her family. She was also able to serve as a Primary teacher. Then, a year after her healing, she became ill again and passed away.

With such experiences, Soren Edsberg’s priorities have become firm: “First, I have my personal commitment to my Heavenly Father. Second, I have my family. Third, I have my church calling. Fourth, I have my job.”

Soren does not consider that his job as an artist puts him in any special category. He feels that there can be artists in any work. “You can do any job poorly. You can do it well. You can do it very well. Or you can do it with genius, and at that level, you start to produce art. That means you can be an artist in whatever kind of work you do,” he explains.

This striving for excellence is something which Brother Edsberg tries to do in his church work. The Edsberg family home—a lovely four-hundred-year-old castle about eighty kilometers from Copenhagen—is often the site of activities for youth of the Slagelse Branch and Copenhagen Stake. Recently, the Edsbergs hosted fifty or so young people overnight at their home. With strong worldly influences in Danish schools, as well as society in general, Brother Edsberg feels that church youth activities need to be as fun and interesting as possible.

The Edsbergs also feel strongly about keeping their own children close to them. Although Brother Edsberg travels quite a bit, his studio is in his home. Since April 1986, one wing of the home has also been a public gallery, where works of many artists are on display. He is planning an exhibition of the works of Utah artists, particularly Latter-day Saints.

Helping their children stay close to the gospel is a continuing challenge. “I don’t think anyone can appreciate how difficult it is to raise children in Denmark,” says Brother Edsberg. “You have to teach them to make the gospel part of everything they do. You have to build their faith and testimony very strongly.” He emphasizes that parents cannot hope to fulfill such a responsibility unless they have the Spirit in their own lives to help them teach and influence their children.

As Soren Edsberg looks to the future, he speaks of artistic goals. He wants to explore his Courses of Life theme in larger mural form and also use such materials as marble, glass, and crystal. He anticipates seeing his children serve missions. In all, he is heading toward his eternal goal and steadily following the course that will take him there.

Attention Scouts! All that time spent in first-aid workshops can really pay off. It has for Rhyan Donahoe of the Tuckahoe Ward, Richmond Virginia Stake. At 15, he’s already been able to save two lives by using the Heimlich maneuver.
Rhyan works at Ginter Hall, a retirement/convalescent center. That’s where he had the opportunity to save two elderly patients’ lives. The nurses there are impressed with Rhyan’s quick-thinking, take-charge attitude. Rhyan says humbly, “I’m glad I was able to help.”

When Nuria and I were being taught by full-time missionaries in 1982, we were invited to visit the local ward meetinghouse and to attend the Church meetings there. As we arrived on a beautiful Sunday morning, the first two members that we met at Church were two sisters from our Caribbean island of Puerto Rico. That was a pleasant surprise! We then entered the sacrament hall and beheld families talking reverently to each other, as the sacrament meeting was about to begin. There was great love and friendship in evidence among them.
The missionaries then pointed out the bishop in the stand talking with one of his counselors. I knew the bishop, though not as the local leader of the Church, but as a faculty professor of mine, whom I respected as a great physician and individual. Nuria and I loved the service. From that very first day, except for illness, we have always attended Sunday meetings. I had received a spiritual confirmation in my heart that this Church was true and that the will of our Lord Jesus Christ was for us to remain. Shortly thereafter, we were baptized together and began attending sacrament meetings as members of the Lord’s restored Church.

My friends Wilford and Kathleen Andersen, who served as mission presidents in Guadalajara, Mexico, literally saw the spirit of the Book of Mormon at work. Sister Andersen felt impressed during the final year of their mission to educate her three sons at home rather than in a public school. However, she needed help in teaching them Spanish. She prayed to find a suitable tutor. She was led to Irma Encinas, who had been a teacher for 20 years and had just recently moved into this new city. Irma Encinas came twice a week to work with the boys.

Three weeks into the school year, Sister Andersen realized that she had hired someone who might be interested in learning more about our Church. So she told her about Joseph Smith and the Book of Mormon. Sister Andersen then decided to have the Spanish curriculum for her boys be the Book of Mormon. The boys each read out loud in Spanish from the scriptures on every visit. Then the teacher was instructed to ask them questions about the reading, and the boys had to answer her in Spanish. While the boys were learning Spanish, Irma Encinas was learning about the Book of Mormon.

After Christmas, Irma Encinas came to Sister Andersen and started to cry. She needed to tell her what was happening. She said that every time the boys read from the Book of Mormon, she saw light around their faces. When they closed their books, the light immediately went away. She confessed that her sister who lived with her had received a copy of the Book of Mormon 11 years earlier but had not read it. This unusual experience caused them both to search their bookshelves to find that dusty book. They wanted to discover for themselves what this light was that emanated from this book. I’m sure you can figure out the rest of the story. They started reading the Book of Mormon and desired to have missionaries teach them. Two weeks after their first missionary discussion, they were baptized.

My wife and I served a senior mission in the Philippines San Pablo Mission from 2008 to 2010. One day at the temple in Manila, most of the Bautista family gathered for the marriage of John Bautista (Romeo’s son) to Sister Victorino, one of the sister missionaries from our San Pablo Mission who had completed her mission and recently returned home.
Our mission president asked if we would like to attend that joyous event, and we immediately made plans to be there. My wife knew of my relationship with the Bautista family but was completely blown away by how many family members there were and how much they loved her. She had 70 new friends for life.

Most of us have or may have callings as home and visiting teachers. There is in those callings great opportunity to grow in faith that the Lord sends the Holy Ghost to His humble servants. That builds faith and renews our faith in Him. I’ve seen it and so have many of you. I received a phone call from a distraught mother in a state far away from where I was. She told me that her unmarried daughter had moved to another city far from her home. She sensed from the little contact she had with her daughter that something was terribly wrong. The mother feared for the moral safety of her daughter. She pleaded with me to help her daughter.

I found out who the daughter’s home teacher was. I called him. He was young. And yet he and his companion both had been awakened in the night with not only concern for the girl but with inspiration that she was about to make choices that would bring sadness and misery. With only the inspiration of the Spirit, they went to see her. She did not at first want to tell them anything about her situation. They pleaded with her to repent and to choose to follow the path that the Lord had set out for her and that her mother and father had taught her to follow. She realized as she listened that the only way they could have known what they knew about her life was from God. A mother’s prayer had gone to Heavenly Father, and the Holy Ghost had been sent to home teachers with an errand.

When Deepak Shrestha’s older brother, who was the first missionary to serve from Nepal, told him the Church was the greatest thing in the world, Deepak was interested. Then his brother challenged him to live the Word of Wisdom. Deepak quickly felt the wisdom of this advice because “it affects the future.” The result of that decision has been the start of Deepak’s strong and continually growing testimony of the gospel.

I think one of the sweetest lessons taught by the Prophet Joseph, and yet one of the saddest, occurred close to the time of his death. He had seen in vision the Saints leaving Nauvoo and going to the Rocky Mountains. He was anxious that his people be led away from their tormentors and into this promised land which the Lord had shown him. He no doubt longed to be with them. However, he had been issued an arrest warrant on trumped up charges. Despite many appeals to Governor Ford, the charges were not dismissed. Joseph left his home, his wife, his family, and his people and gave himself up to the civil authorities, knowing he would probably never return.

These are the words he spoke as he journeyed to Carthage: “I am going like a lamb to the slaughter; but I am calm as a summer’s morning; I have a conscience void of offense towards God, and towards all men.”

In Carthage Jail he was incarcerated with his brother Hyrum and others. On June 27, 1844, Joseph, Hyrum, John Taylor, and Willard Richards were together there when an angry mob stormed the jail, ran up the stairway, and began firing through the door of the room they occupied. Hyrum was killed, and John Taylor was wounded. Joseph Smith’s last great act here upon the earth was one of selflessness. He crossed the room, most likely “thinking that it would save the lives of his brethren in the room if he could get out, … and sprang into the window when two balls pierced him from the door, and one entered his right breast from without.” He gave his life; Willard Richards and John Taylor were spared. “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” The Prophet Joseph Smith taught us love—by example.

"When our children were very small, I started to write down a few things about what happened every day. Let me tell you how that got started.

"I came home late from a Church assignment. It was after dark. My father-in-law, who lived near us, surprised me as I walked toward the front door of my house. He was carrying a load of pipes over his shoulder, walking very fast and dressed in his work clothes. I knew that he had been building a system to pump water from a stream below us up to our property.

"He smiled, spoke softly, and then rushed past me into the darkness to go on with his work. I took a few steps toward the house, thinking of what he was doing for us, and just as I got to the door, I heard in my mind—not in my own voice—these words: 'I’m not giving you these experiences for yourself. Write them down.'

"I went inside. I didn’t go to bed. Although I was tired, I took out some paper and began to write. And as I did, I understood the message I had heard in my mind. I was supposed to record for my children to read, someday in the future, how I had seen the hand of God blessing our family.

"Grandpa didn’t have to do what he was doing for us. He could have had someone else do it or not have done it at all. But he was serving us, his family, in the way covenant disciples of Jesus Christ always do. I knew that was true. And so I wrote it down, so that my children could have the memory someday when they would need it.

"I wrote down a few lines every day for years. I never missed a day no matter how tired I was or how early I would have to start the next day. Before I would write, I would ponder this question: 'Have I seen the hand of God reaching out to touch us or our children or our family today?'

"As I kept at it, something began to happen. As I would cast my mind over the day, I would see evidence of what God had done for one of us that I had not recognized in the busy moments of the day.

"As that happened, and it happened often, I realized that trying to remember had allowed God to show me what He had done.

"More than gratitude began to grow in my heart. Testimony grew. I became ever more certain that our Heavenly Father hears and answers prayers.

"I felt more gratitude for the softening and refining that come because of the Atonement of the Savior Jesus Christ.

"And I grew more confident that the Holy Ghost can bring all things to our remembrance—even things we did not notice or pay attention to when they happened." [1]

Having optimism combined with an eternal perspective leads to the third result of hope: we do not give up easily. We do not give up on ourselves, and we do not give up on others. We persevere even when there is opposition. Let me share an experience I had while I was pursuing my graduate degree.

I had been working on my PhD at the University of Utah for about three years. I had taken all the necessary classes and I had completed most of my experiments in the area of laser spectroscopy. The final task was to write my thesis which I estimated would take about six to eight months. It was at this critical time that my funding ran out. It was a complete surprise to me and was quite devastating. We also had a premature baby earlier in the year, our first child, and had large medical bills. I was ready to throw in the towel and give up on my PhD. I started looking for a job, and I even applied for a few. It was my wife who wouldn’t let me give up. She saw the bigger picture. She recognized that it was important for me to have a PhD and that was the very best time to get it done. Well, she was right, and I was blessed for sticking with it! I was able to complete my thesis in a shorter length of time, and it was my wife’s graduate advisor who directed us to my post-doctorate job at Utah State University.

I carried a tray of food, prepared by my mother-in-law, into a cluttered and dusty home. The sole occupant sat where she always sat, on a big armchair positioned so she could see out the window. Her swollen legs were stretched in front of her and her cane, which she used only with great effort, leaned against her arm. She smiled when she saw me, thanked me for the food, and apologetically asked who I was. As I sat next to her and listened to her stories, I was filled with warmth and peace.
Three years later, I was on the floor with my two young children, bouncing them on my legs and singing a racehorse tune. Only a few feet away, my kitchen was in disarray and toys were scattered across the floor. I suddenly felt a reassurance from the Spirit that I was right where I needed to be. Warmth and peace flooded my soul, filling its worn edges and giving energy where there was none.
Another two years forward, I was lying on the bed. A pile of laundry was visible on the floor, and a stack of papers littered the desk to my left as I fed my newborn son for the fourth time that night. I brushed my fingertips against his long lashes, felt his soft bald head, and was thrilled when fingers curled around the lace of my shirt. I was so filled with warmth and peace that I didn’t even mind that I was sometimes awake at three in the morning.
In each of these cases, the Holy Ghost was with me, telling me I was in the right place and doing the right thing, and in each of these cases, I was in a messy home.

Even if you’re nearing graduation and feel sure about the answers to those questions, it may be wise to think again. I say that from personal experience. As a senior in high school, I knew exactly the path I would take through college. My goal was to attend the Harvard Business School, just like my father. In answer to my questions about what that would require, he had informed me that the Harvard Business School admissions officers appreciate students with degrees in fields other than business, particularly science and engineering majors. That sounded good to me, because I love geology. For that I am indebted to Ricks College professors who taught me to appreciate the mountains and unique geologic features around Rexburg.

With this clear graduate school goal in mind, I declared geology as my major when I filled out my college application. Everything went according to plan. I enjoyed the geology classes and made rapid progress toward graduation. I also got a summer internship with a large oil company exploring the possibilities of geothermal energy. But I never went on any field trip that wasn’t required for a class, nor did I attempt to get to know my professors outside of the classroom. My grades were good, and I felt confident that the admissions officers at Harvard would be sufficiently impressed with me, notwithstanding my lack of practical experience or enthusiastically supportive faculty mentors.

In fact, I felt so confident that I didn’t apply to any other graduate school. I was thus completely unprepared to receive a “thin letter” from Harvard. For your future reference, acceptance letters often include not only the good news of application success, but also information and enticements designed to win your quick acceptance of the admission offer. These “thick letters” are fat and heavy. By contrast, a statement of rejection is relatively brief, making for a very thin letter. My Harvard thin letter, which weighed less than one ounce, crushed me, as it brought an end to a lifetime of dreaming.

In fairness, my thin letter encouraged me to reapply after gaining at least two years of full-time work experience, as nearly all successful Harvard Business School applicants do. But my devastation wasn’t just a matter of wanting to be admitted quickly. I seriously doubted my ability to get meaningful work experience. The price of oil had fallen by half during my time in college, on its way to falling by half again in the next two years. [2]

In other circumstances, I might have had the patience and optimism to take the Harvard counsel to get work experience and reapply. But experienced, graduate degree-holding professional geologists were being laid off in droves. The woeful joke at the time was that the best natural resource department in Denver, a leading energy hub, was also the shoe department at Sears, the Walmart of that time. Jobs in geology, especially for bachelor’s degree holders, were all but impossible to find.

Now, you may be wondering two things. One is how I could have been so foolish and unlucky in my educational plans. The other is why I am telling you this frightening story. The answer to the first question, about my foolishness and apparent bad luck, is that I can now look back and see that heaven was blessing me in spite of my vain ambitions and overconfidence. We’ll talk more about that later.

For now, let’s focus on the things you can learn from my scary story of bad college and career planning. In my defense, I did one important thing partly well. That thing was choosing a long-range goal to guide my choice of a college major. Rather than just picking a subject that I really liked, geology, I also picked it based on a post-graduation goal: getting into the Harvard Business School.

But I should have been looking past graduate school and on to the life’s work for which my degree would prepare me. I should have been making my best guess about what the life’s work would be. Was it to be a professor and academic administrator, like my father; a research scientist, like his father; or perhaps a real estate developer, like my maternal grandfather? Unfortunately, I wasn’t asking any of those questions.

“I can fly,” laughed Carlos as he went spiraling into the cool Idaho evening. He landed in the playground sand and rolled like a movie stuntman.
He brushed himself off and ran back to the merry-go-round, but it was spinning too fast to get back on. The four of us, all college roommates, had the thing moving so fast that I was afraid it would spin off its braces and take flight. I guessed we’d break out of the earth’s gravitational pull somewhere near Boise, and I’d never get home for Christmas.
“Is there a point to this?” I yelled at Dave, who was leading our family home evening activity that night.
“Yep. And remember, I buy pizza for whoever stays on the longest,” he called from his position in the middle of the twirling merry-go-round.
Our roommate Brad, however, was standing near the edge of the contraption, and I could see his grip was not that secure. From the ground Carlos saw too and began spinning us until we were moving at particle-accelerator velocity. Finally, Brad slipped and was sucked off like he’d just opened the door of a flying 747. He crashed right into Carlos. The two of them landed on the sand in an awkward heap.
“Okay, I win,” I yelled. “Now stop this thing before I throw up.”
We eventually slowed the ride, and Dave gathered us on one of the park benches to give us his lesson.
“Anyone know why I put us through this merry-go-round exercise tonight?” he asked.
“Mental instability?” Brad guessed.
“A sadistic streak?” I asked. My world was still spinning.
“Thanks, but wrong. Did you notice why Carlos and Brad flew off?” Dave asked.
“Yeah, because you took the middle,” said Brad.
“Actually, there was room for all of us,” Dave added.
“Yeah, but it’s not as wild a ride in the middle,” I added.
“True,” said Dave, “there are greater risks on the outside—which is my point tonight. It’s safer when we are in the center—on the merry-go-round and in the Church.
“You’ll find that when you move away from the teachings of the Savior and the prophets, you find yourself taking risks you know you shouldn’t. And then you can suddenly find yourself far away from the Church. And it can be really hard to get back on the ride again once you’re off. Right, Carlos?”
Carlos nodded and brushed a few flecks of sand off his jacket.
Dave opened his scriptures and read from Moroni 10:32 [Moro. 10:32]. “Yea, come unto Christ, and be perfected in him, and deny yourselves of all ungodliness; and if ye shall deny yourselves of all ungodliness, and love God with all your might, mind and strength, then is his grace sufficient for you, that by his grace ye may be perfect in Christ; and if by the grace of God ye are perfect in Christ, ye can in nowise deny the power of God.”
Dave closed the scriptures. “Being a member of the Church is the greatest blessing in the world,” he said. “This scripture reminds us that if we come unto Christ and do all He has asked of us, we won’t be led astray. And if we stay centered on Him, following the teachings of the Church and the prophets, we won’t be tempted to take the risks that will throw us off the path that leads home.”
I have never forgotten Dave’s lesson. Every year the world seems to move faster and the distractions and temptations are greater, but I know if I stay centered I will avoid the greatest risks.
As Dave reminded me, by staying close to Christ I can overcome anything.

There’s a home for unwed mothers and abused children in the Fairfield California Stake, and the young women in the Vacaville Third Ward wanted to help out.
They took several activity nights to make stuffed bears. They also made sugar cookies to take to the home and let the children decorate. The main message they tried to convey was “You are a child of God,” and the smiles on the children’s faces told them they understood.

Dave Kelly is a remarkable young man. He works as a receptionist for the Salt Lake County Inspections Division and, in his spare time, performs as a clown. What makes him different from the other clowns in and around Salt Lake City, Utah? Dave is a victim of spina bifida, a disease of the spinal cord in which one or more vertebrae fail to close properly. As a result of this disease, Dave Kelly is permanently confined to a wheelchair.
Apart from performing as “Wheeler, the Clown,” Dave is active in a number of other areas. He’s a member of the Rose Park Eighth Ward, Salt Lake Rose Park North Stake, and is president of the elders quorum at the Salt Lake Veterans Administration Hospital. He is taking classes in business and is working toward a degree in data processing. Yet, despite all these other activities, his first love is clowning.
“I spent a lot of time in the hospital when I was a child,” Dave recalls, “and I remember some of the best times I ever had were when clowns would come to visit us. I guess I decided then and there to pay back some of the happiness and kindness I had received.”
And pay back he has. Dave has a special fondness for working with handicapped children. Dave is reluctant to set himself up as an example for other handicapped people, but it is difficult not to imagine him as an inspiration to those who look on their wheelchairs as a type of prison. He has the ability to get out on stage and show others that clowning is something that is not the exclusive domain of the unimpaired. His magic tricks are just as amazing, his balloon animals are just as creative, and his jokes are just as corny as any clown on two good legs.
“I believe a clown can communicate to others through his hands, his eyes, and most importantly, through his personality. My wheelchair is something I cannot deny; it is a part of me and I accept that. But it does not have to keep me from enjoying being around others, especially children, and I know that the magical bond between me and my audience is there no matter what.”
With that attitude, all we can do is step out of his way and watch a pro in action.

I was taught how a quorum works in these three aspects many years ago when I attended a high priests group meeting in a small community in southern Wyoming. The lesson that week was on justification and sanctification. It was evident, as the lesson began, that the teacher was well prepared to instruct his brethren. Then a question prompted a response that changed the whole course of the lesson. In response to the question, one brother commented: “I have listened with great interest to the lesson material. The thought has crossed my mind that the information presented will soon be lost if we do not find application to put the material presented into practice in our daily lives.” Then he went on to propose a course of action.

The night before, a citizen of the community had passed away. His wife was a member of the Church, but he had not been. This high priest had visited the widow and offered his sympathy. Leaving the home after the visit, his eyes wandered over the beautiful farm of the deceased brother. He had put so much of his life and labor into building it up. The alfalfa was ready to cut; the grain would soon be ready to harvest. How would this poor sister cope with the sudden problems now falling on her? She would need time to get herself organized for her new responsibilities.

Then he proposed to the group that they apply the principles they had just been taught—by working with the widow to keep her farm operating until the widow and her family could find a more permanent solution. The balance of the meeting was spent in organizing the project to assist her.

As we left the classroom, there was a good feeling among the brethren. I heard one of them remark as he passed through the doorway, “This project is just what we needed as a group to work together again.” A lesson had been taught; a brotherhood had been strengthened; a service project had been organized to assist someone in need.

A picture forms on my monitor involving a father aboard an airplane. He has with him his five-year-old son and is almost wishing his son were not there because it is a very rough trip. There are downdrafts and updrafts and some passengers are feeling a bit queasy. Apprehensively, the father glances at his son and finds him grinning from ear to ear. “Dad,” he says, “do they do this just to make it fun for the kids?”
Good parents and family and leaders and friends do go to great lengths to make it fun for the kids, but the fun they are thinking of is wholesome fun; it hurts no one, and it lifts the spirit. It never detracts from the real, long-term joy we came into this world to experience.

At stake conference I heard a General Authority speak about being committed to making the right decisions. Afterward, I remember getting on my knees and saying to Heavenly Father, “This is what I plan to do. Wouldst thou help me?” I vowed that I would keep the Word of Wisdom throughout my life, that some day I would tell my grandchildren truthfully that I had never touched tobacco, tea, coffee, or a drop of liquor. I decided then how I was going to act so that decision never had to be made again.

Why is a superactivity super? Earning the right to go is half the fun. The 17th Ward of the Las Vegas East Stake plans two superactivities for the Explorer-aged boys every year. One activity takes place in the winter and is usually a cross-country skiing adventure or a snowmobiling trip. In the summer, for the past few years, the superactivity has truly been super. It is a scuba-diving water-skiing campout trip to Catalina Island. Qualifying to go on this super outing involves more than just being the right age. During the year each boy fills several requirements before he is allowed to go: 100 percent attendance at MIA with no unexcused absences, and 75 percent attendance at all other Church meetings. Each boy must be dressed in his official Explorer uniform every week. Three nonmembers were included in the group this year, and although they were not required to attend priesthood meeting, they had to attend two sacrament meetings and two Sunday School meetings per month. They also had to have 100 percent attendance at MIA and wear their Explorer uniforms. In addition to these requirements, each boy had to earn five merit badges in the six-month period preceding the activity.
As difficult and rigid as these qualifications may seem, it is interesting to note that fifteen boys met the requirements for this summer’s superactivity trip to Catalina Island and that each boy actually looked forward to completing the necessary requirements.
Camping gear, scuba diving equipment, and plenty of food were packed for the trip to Catalina, and the group of Explorers along with six enthusiastic leaders headed for the California coast. The boats were launched in the early morning when the sea was calm. Proper compass settings were important in reaching their destination. Catalina is some twenty miles from the California coast, and the boat trip to the island is scenic and refreshing.
Instead of camping in or near Catalina’s one large city, Avalon, the group went to the other end of the island and pitched their tents on the large isthmus that protrudes north from the island. Camp was organized, and most important of all, a large cooking area with stoves and necessary kitchen gear was laid out in a central location.
The opportunity for activity seemed to be endless. The early morning hours were spent in the bay water skiing and swimming. This was an ideal time because the water was calm. During the afternoon when the water became rougher, the boats were loaded with skin-diving gear and the boys explored various interesting spots around the island. These diving expeditions were not only enjoyable and exciting experiences but also very practical. Around the island abalone and lobster can be found, and these delicacies made excellent eating for the entire group.
These activities, along with exploring the island, snorkeling, and body surfing, were just a few of the many and varied things that were going on all the time.
One day was spent exploring the tourist city of Avalon. The boys got cleaned up and toured the resort community and that evening saw a movie before returning to camp.
With waves rolling into the shore and the sun shining down on the group, they held a spiritually moving testimony meeting that was one of the highlights of the excursion.
At the end of the fifth day, twenty-one very good friends broke camp and prepared for the long trip back to Las Vegas.
Upon their arrival home, the tired but happy Explorer group was met by grateful parents who by nature seem to worry when their boys are away. Happily there was nothing more serious than a few bruises and sore muscles to report—only memories of a superactivity.