Gospel Story Finder

By Kyle S., Texas, USA
Photograph © iStock/Thinkstock
My parents and I listened to Elder Bednar in the October 2011 general conference when he said that working on family history would give us protection against the adversary. We started working on our family history then. I keep learning and growing from family history; it’s really fun.
I like finding out about where I’m from and about my ancestors. I learn from their experiences and use them in my life to help me be a better person. It’s amazing to discover who they were, what they did for a living, what life was like, and how hard it was for them.
For example, I enjoyed learning about one of my ancestors who moved with his family from Tennessee to Texas, USA, in the 1870s to be a cattle rancher. He faced many challenges in his life, and from him I learned that life can be hard, so it’s important to stand up for what you believe.
When I have challenges in my life, working on family history makes me feel like my ancestors are always with me and will help me through hard trials, just as Elder Bednar promised us.

Shortly before accepting his full-time mission call, Elder Massimo De Feo learned key lessons of sacrifice and love from his father, Vittorio De Feo.
The De Feo family had few financial resources, and neither Vittorio nor his wife, Velia, were Church members. But the elder De Feo respected his son’s desire to share the gospel.
“My father asked me, ‘Do you really want to do this?’” remembers Elder De Feo. “I said, ‘Yes, with all my heart I want to serve the Lord.’”
Vittorio promised to do all he could to help cover the cost of his son’s two years of service in the Italy Rome Mission.
“I considered that money to be sacred—it was the fruit of great sacrifice from a man who did not believe in the Church,” says Elder De Feo. “So I served my mission with all my heart, might, mind, and strength because I loved the Lord and I loved my father.”

President James E. Faust once told of applying for Officer’s Candidate School in the United States Army. He said:
I was summoned before the board of inquiry. My qualifications were few, but I had had two years of college and had finished a mission for the Church in South America.
The questions asked of me at the officers’ board of inquiry took a very surprising turn. Nearly all of them centered upon my beliefs. “Do you smoke?” “Do you drink?” “What do you think of others who smoke and drink?” I had no trouble answering these questions.
“Do you pray?” “Do you believe that an officer should pray?” The officer asking these questions was a hard-bitten career soldier. He did not look like he prayed very often. . . . I wanted to be an officer very much. . . .
I decided not to equivocate. I admitted that I did pray and that I felt that officers might seek divine guidance as some truly great generals had done. . . .
More interesting questions came. “In times of war, should not the moral code be relaxed? Does not the stress of battle justify men in doing things that they would not do when at home under normal situations?”
. . . I suspected that the men who were asking me this question did not live by the standards that I had been taught. The thought flashed through my mind that perhaps I could say that I had my own beliefs, but I did not wish to impose them on others. But there seemed to flash before my mind the faces of the many people to whom I had taught the law of chastity as a missionary. In the end I simply said, “I do not believe there is a double standard of morality.”
I left the hearing resigned to the fact that these hard-bitten officers would . . . surely score me very low. A few days later when the scores were posted, to my astonishment I had passed. I was in the first group taken for Officer’s Candidate School! . . .
[And then President Faust, realizing how small decisions can have large consequences, said:] This was one of the critical crossroads of my life.

It was 1967, and I was serving as a missionary in Hildesheim, Germany. Christmas was fast approaching, and I was excited because Christmas Eve was a Sunday, and a wonderful meeting and other appropriate and special celebrations were planned.
Two weeks before Christmas, however, I received a transfer to Rendsburg. My companion, Elder Fadel, and I would be new there, and I wondered what the members would be like and how we would celebrate Christmas.
We soon came to know that the Rendsburg Branch had few members and little was being planned for Christmas Eve other than a special sacrament meeting. Our landlady, a Church member, invited us to join her for dinner on Christmas Day. I thought that would be the extent of my Christmas. But things soon changed.
The preceding missionaries had left us a tracting book including the names of several people who said they would like the missionaries to call back. Because people were so busy, finding new contacts at Christmastime was not very successful, so we thought these names might be a good place to start. We began visiting people on the list. When we visited the home of Frau Lübbert, we were greeted by a wonderful, cheery lady. She invited us in, and we learned that she was the widow of a Lutheran minister, who had passed away earlier that year. Her son was also a minister. He would be home for Christmas, and it would be just the two of them sharing their first Christmas without their husband and father. Then, with a sparkle in her eyes, she asked if we would join them for Christmas Eve. Having no other plans, we consented.
Christmas Eve arrived, and we had a lovely sacrament meeting in which we talked about the Savior and listened to the Christmas story. As my companion and I helped administer the sacrament, we pondered on the life the Savior had given for us.
After the meeting we were to meet the Lübberts at the Lutheran church. As we walked through the park, the snow was just beginning to fall, and we stopped to watch children and parents skating on a frozen pond. We saw Christmas lights here and there and heard church bells announcing the Christmas Eve service.
The Lübberts were waiting for us at their church. We enjoyed a wonderful spirit as we listened to the minister and as we sang Christmas carols in a church older than some of the carols. Singing “Silent Night” in its original language made the occasion even more special.
After the service, we got into Reverend Lübbert’s car and drove to their home. Frau Lübbert had prepared a goose for dinner, and as she put the finishing touches on the meal, my companion and I sat with Reverend Lübbert and asked him about his ministry. He talked of how he was active in a movement trying to bring Christian churches together. Many shared that dream, but others were antagonistic and fought the movement.
We then talked about our ministry. We told him of the Book of Mormon and how the Church had been restored. We told him of living prophets, and we talked about Jesus Christ and bore witness of Him as our Savior. No animosity existed among us. There was no belittling of one another’s beliefs. As I think upon it now, the words of 2 Nephi 25:26 come to mind. We literally “talk[ed] of Christ, we rejoice[d] in Christ” on that Christmas Eve. He was the center of our attention. He was the purpose of our being together.
As we bowed our heads for a prayer on the food, Reverend Lübbert asked a blessing on his fellow servants in Christ, that we would be led to those who sought Jesus. The meal was wonderful—roasted goose with all the trimmings and special German desserts.
German tradition is for parents to retire to a separate room where the tree has been newly decorated and to light the candles on the tree. The children are then allowed to enter and see the tree and their presents. So Frau Lübbert retired to the living room and closed the large sliding doors. In a moment she opened the doors and invited her “sons” to come in.
As we entered the room, where the only light was the soft light coming from the candles on the Christmas tree, Frau Lübbert handed my companion and me our gifts: some candies and a souvenir book about Rendsburg. She then gave her son his presents, and they paused a moment to remember their husband and father. We then opened the Bible to Luke and read the Christmas story. The Spirit touched each of us and witnessed again of the divine message in those verses. As we sang Christmas carols, the words bore testimony to each of us of the love we shared for Jesus Christ, His life, His teachings, and the most precious of gifts—His atoning sacrifice.
I don’t believe my feet touched the ground that night as we made our way to the bus stop. Santa Claus hadn’t come. I hadn’t been rushing around buying presents. I hadn’t attended any concerts or seen the traditional Christmas movies. My family was far away, and my packages from home were delayed because of the transfer. But I was the happiest I had ever been on Christmas Eve. For the first time in my life, Christmas had been totally focused on Christ. And the only gift I had given was my witness of Him.

The fraternity of priesthood quorums can indeed be awesome. When I became a member of a Quorum of the Seventy, I assumed that I might be accepted by my brethren in the course of time if I were able to prove myself worthy of their association. I hoped someday to measure up and be approved. I was surprised to find myself immediately welcomed and from the outset treated as a brother, as an equal by men much more talented and accomplished than I. I have been supported and encouraged, loved and tutored in my quorum from my very first day of membership in it. Consequently, I feel a deep desire to contribute to the work of the quorum and to assist my brethren as much as I can.

As a young boy, Spencer watched other boys his age steal watermelons from neighbors’ fields or slash the melons open to rot and then run away.
Boy: I dare you to do it, Spencer.
Spencer: That’s not my idea of fun. It’s just plain mean.Why, if you asked any farmer in Thatcher, he’d give you all the melon your belly could hold.I won’t join in.
When Spencer was a deacon, his duties included gathering fast offerings, which at the time were often fruit, flour, and vegetables. His father lent him the horse and buggy, and Spencer took the responsibility very seriously.
Spencer: The other boy hasn’t shown up. Well, the job still has to be done.I’ll just have to do it alone.
Spencer went on to become the secretary and then president of his deacons quorum.
A few years later, Spencer was stopped by the superintendent as he left Sunday School.
Superintendent: Spencer, I want you to teach a Sunday School class.
Spencer: Me? But I’m only 14.
Superintendent: Lean on the Lord, and you’ll do fine.
In high school, Spencer was voted class president. One day Spencer and some friends borrowed an old buggy for a field trip to the mountains. The rough road was too much for it.
Friend: What’s wrong?
Spencer: A spring broke.
The next day in class, Spencer spoke up.
Spencer: That spring has to be paid for, even if I have to do it myself.
Friend: If you’re pitching in, Spencer, so will I.
Friend: I guess I will too.
The Lord was able to use Spencer W. Kimball as a leader and an example because he was honest, obedient, and filled with integrity.
The qualities he developed in his youth helped him become a great prophet.

Preceding the comforting revelation to Joseph and Oliver that I have just cited, the Prophet endured a poignant, painful experience familiar to all of us that taught him to look to the Savior and not fear the opinions, pressures, and threats of men. I quote from the account in our Priesthood and Relief Society manual, Teachings of the Presidents of the Church: Joseph Smith:

On June 14, 1828, Martin Harris left Harmony, Pennsylvania, taking the first 116 manuscript pages translated from the gold plates to show to some of his family members in Palmyra, New York. The very next day, Joseph and Emma's first child was born, a son they named Alvin. The baby died that same day, and Emma's health declined until she was near death herself. The Prophet's mother later wrote: "For some time, [Emma] seemed to tremble upon the verge of the silent home of her infant. So uncertain seemed her fate for a season that in the space of two weeks her husband never slept one hour in undisturbed quiet. At the end of this time, his anxiety became so great about the manuscript that he determined, as his wife was now some better, that as soon as she had gained a little more strength he would make a trip to New York and see after the same."[17] In July, at Emma's suggestion, the Prophet left Emma in her mother's care and traveled by stagecoach to his parents' home in Manchester Township, New York. The Prophet's trip covered about 125 miles and took two or three days to complete. Distraught about the loss of his firstborn son, worried about his wife, and gravely concerned about the manuscript, Joseph neither ate nor slept during the entire trip. A fellow traveler, the only other passenger on the stagecoach, observed the Prophet's weakened state and insisted on accompanying him for the 20-mile walk from the stagecoach station to the Smith home. For the last four miles of the walk, recalled the Prophet's mother, "the stranger was under the necessity of leading Joseph by his arm, for nature was too much exhausted to support him any longer and he would fall asleep as he stood upon his feet."[18] Immediately upon reaching his parents' home, the Prophet sent for Martin Harris. Martin arrived at the Smith home in the early afternoon, downcast and forlorn. He did not have the manuscript, he said, and did not know where it was. Hearing this, Joseph exclaimed, "Oh! My God, my God. ... All is lost, is lost. What shall I do? I have sinned. It is I that tempted the wrath of God by asking him for that which I had no right to ask.... How shall I appear before the Lord? Of what rebuke am I not worthy from the angel of the Most High?" As the day wore on, the Prophet paced back and forth in his parents' home in great distress, "weeping and grieving." The next day he left to return to Harmony, where, he said, "I commenced humbling myself in mighty prayer before the Lord ... that if possible I might obtain mercy at his hands and be forgiven of all that I had done which was contrary to his will."[19] The Lord severely chastised the Prophet for fearing man more than God, but assured him he could be forgiven. "Thou art Joseph," the Lord said, "and thou wast chosen to do the work of the Lord, but because of transgression, if thou art not aware thou wilt fall. But remember, God is merciful; therefore, repent of that which thou hast done which is contrary to the commandment which I gave you, and thou art still chosen, and art again called to the work."[20] For a time, the Lord took the Urim and Thummim and the plates from Joseph. But these things were soon restored to him. "The angel was rejoiced when he gave me back the Urim and Thummim," the Prophet recalled, "and said that God was pleased with my faithfulness and humility, and loved me for my penitence and diligence in prayer, in the which I had performed my duty so well as to ... be able to enter upon the work of translation again."[21] As Joseph moved forward in the great work before him, he was now fortified by the sweet feelings of receiving the Lord's forgiveness and a renewed determination to do His will.[22]

Jan banged the hot iron down on the pillowcase and grudgingly slid it back and forth until the fabric was smooth. I’m tired of ironing pillowcases! I’m tired of ironing everything! she thought as she looked at the pile of clean but wrinkled clothes. There’s too much to do!
The relentless howling of the fierce wind outside was interrupted only by the rhythmic sound of Jan’s iron thumping the ironing board. She glanced out the window at the raging blizzard and shivered. I wish I weren’t the oldest daughter. Then I wouldn’t have to do all the work while Mom’s sick.
Just an hour ago her mother had said, “When you’re finished with the ironing, dear, come to my room and we’ll decide what to prepare for dinner.”
Jan groaned to herself just thinking about dinner and dirty dishes. Why does it have to be me? It isn’t fair! Tears filled her eyes, and her long brown hair brushed her pale cheeks as she smoothed the pillowcase with her hand, folded it neatly, and added it to the growing pile of finished ironing. She thought of her mother resting in bed and the other four children playing quietly elsewhere in the house. The storm seemed to put a hush over everyone, as if they were just silently passing time until it was over.
Later, with a sigh of relief, Jan picked up the last item to iron—one of Dad’s handkerchiefs. I know Mom can’t help having to stay in bed so she won’t lose the baby, she reasoned as she ironed. I can tell she’s trying to act cheerful, but I know she’s pretty worried. And when Dad looks at her, he seems worried too.
Looking outside, Jan could see that the storm was getting worse. The wind shrieked louder and tore at the house, adding more gloom to her mood. Suddenly the laundry room light flickered and went out. It was still early enough so that, despite the storm, the snow reflected plenty of light through the window.
Jan became aware of a faint, musical sound. Where’s that coming from? she wondered. It can’t be the radio, because the power’s off. She moved to the doorway and listened.
“It’s really beautiful!” she whispered, still listening. She began to walk from room to room, following the flutelike sound and trying to discover where it was coming from. She wondered who could be playing it. No one in the family played the flute. The haunting sound was peaceful, smooth. It stopped, then started again, faded, then rose again.
Still following the sound, Jan came to the door of her own room! What’s going on? she wondered. The door was slightly open. Her ear tuned to the clear, gentle sound; she quietly entered. The reflection of the white snow swirling and drifting outside her window brightened the pinks and whites of her room. She followed the sound—louder now—to the window. Afraid of disturbing whatever was making the unusual music, she very cautiously reached up and moved the white, frothy curtain aside.
“Well, what do you know!” Jan exclaimed. The music she heard was being made naturally, and simply, by the raging wind! The wind was blowing so hard against her window that the air being forced through the cracks was making a delightful tune.
Jan stood there in awe, gazing at the window and the bright, drifting snow. Then, interrupting her reverie, she turned and ran to her mother’s room. Delighted to find her mother awake, Jan excitedly told her of her discovery.
Mother’s dark eyes sparkled, and her tired mouth widened into a smile. She lifted her hand for Jan to take. “Show me!” she said with excitement.
Jan supported her mother as they went to Jan’s room and quietly lay side by side on her bed. The only sound was the music of the wind.
“It’s lovely!” her mother whispered.
After listening in silence for a few more minutes, Jan said, “I’d really be scared to be out there in that blizzard all alone!”
“Yes, so would I,” agreed her mother. “But isn’t it wonderful how that wild storm can whistle through a tiny crack and provide us with such an unusual musical treat?”
“Yes.” Forgetting her fear, Jan snuggled closer and rested her head on her mother’s shoulder. Her thoughts drifted back to earlier in the afternoon. It had seemed like the end of the world then. But maybe things weren’t so bad after all. A feeling of peace and well-being swelled within her.
“Jan?” Her mother’s voice broke the silence. “With the power off, what shall we do for dinner?”
Jan giggled. “Well, I think we have enough stew left over from last night. I’ll put it in the pan and warm it up in the fireplace. Then we can sit around the fire and eat like the pioneers did!”
“Like the pioneers!” her mother echoed.
Jan remembered the peace and contentment she’d felt when she’d heard the music in the wind. She knew her life was a lot easier than that of the pioneers. She smiled and went to get the dinner ready.

A mother who was diagnosed with cancer told of being isolated in a bare room for many long days behind closed lead-lined doors, feeling like a prisoner convicted of a crime she didn’t commit. Then she tells of her oldest daughter coming to visit:

She sat down behind the lead screen that separated us and proceeded to take off her boots and socks. She slipped her socks on her hands and pretended they were puppets and spoke through them. I laughed for the first time in months. That simple act brightened my outlook instantly. [Emily Farmer, “‘What Do I Say to Someone Who Is Dying?’” Ensign, April 1990, 73]

After being released from a second term as a bishop, and walking across campus, I noticed a posting of an LDS Family Services Fireside on ‘addiction recovery’ to be given that week at the BYU–Hawaii Chapel.
The Spirit whispered, “You and your wife need to attend this.” We did and following the fireside I was interviewed and subsequently called on a mission with LDS Family Services, directing the Addiction Recovery Program within our five local stakes.
It has been over eight years now and the learning has been profound. Our program goal is to help individuals overcome their addictions – realizing sobriety and healing through the Atonement of Jesus Christ.
I learned much about ‘mind-pollution’ from this calling: 1. What our mind sensually takes in, it keeps – sometimes forever. 2. Preoccupation with unworthy thinking can lead to unworthy behavior. 3. It’s a long process to cleanse a mind that has been polluted by unclean thoughts. 4. Pornography impairs one’s ability to enjoy a happy, normal, emotional, romantic, and spiritual relationship with another person of the opposite sex.
Internet pornography is a horrific game changer – from freedom, joy, and peace to captivity, bondage, and misery.
Internet pornography is one of the adversary’s best stealth-attacks to damn our progression, and prevent us from entering the temple.
Over time, I also learned: 1. There is no such thing as just looking. We can easily get hooked. 2. The problem does not go away after individuals get married. 3. It may temporarily halt, but then resurface and become an even more serious problem if left untreated. 4. By openly discussing an addiction, much can be done to safeguard ourselves, a dating relationship, a marriage, and a future family.

You will also strengthen basic communication skills. Sister Cook, second counselor in the Young Women general presidency, stressed the need for these skills. She explained, “I think Mutual was important in my day, but I think it is even more important now since there is less direct social interaction going on.”
Technology is gradually replacing in-person interaction. One night, Sister Cook sat down with some of her grandchildren, and they brought up this subject. They admitted how often they escape speaking, or being kind, or showing manners since they think they can say what they need to simply through text messaging.
Mutual is a fun way to learn good communication skills and develop self-reliance. It might seem like a simple activity—teaching a new dance, learning CPR, or giving service—but you will learn skills that will help you through life.
Sister Dalton, first counselor in the Young Women general presidency, said she still uses skills she learned while attending Mutual. “I was polished, tutored, and prepared. I learned things I couldn’t have learned in any other setting that have made a difference in my life now.”
Sister Tanner remembered one Tuesday night a few years ago when she was eating dinner with some of her teenagers. One of them said, “Oh, I don’t think I will go to Mutual tonight. They’re not doing anything interesting.” Sister Tanner responded, “You need the Church, but the Church needs you too.”
“I think youth need to understand the impact they can have on other youth,” Sister Cook added. “When you show up in the right spirit, you can contribute to a Beehive, you can help that little Beehive.” One of our responsibilities as Latter-day Saints is to help build the kingdom. We shouldn’t always go to a lesson or an activity thinking about what we can get out of it, but rather what we can give to it.”
Mutual can also be an opportunity to participate in missionary work. It is a great place to invite less-active members or friends of other faiths to feel the Spirit in a casual, less intimidating setting.
Brother Dahlquist told the story of a priesthood leader he met in Uruguay. After talking with him for a minute, Brother Dahlquist discovered that this man went through a period of inactivity in his youth. When Brother Dahlquist asked what happened, this man said, “When I was 12, I received a visit from a deacons quorum president and his counselor, and they invited me to come play soccer at Mutual. And so I went, and I brought some friends for moral support. My friends and I outnumbered the quorum that was there, but we had a great time. After the activity, the quorum president came to me and said, ‘Why don’t you come on Sunday? We’d love to have you.’ The rest is history. I went on a mission. I married in the temple, and I am now serving in the stake presidency.”
Mutual is a wonderful place to fellowship other youth and get them involved. As President Hinckley said, everyone needs a friend, an opportunity to serve, and to be nourished by the good word of God. This is all present at Mutual. Just like the young man in Uruguay, you will see the positive results—however long-term they may be—that can come as a result of attending Mutual.

A while ago my bishop and priests quorum adviser challenged our quorum to give away two copies of the Book of Mormon within a year. I took the challenge to heart and always had a Book of Mormon on me (in the car, in my backpack, etc.). Several people accepted copies, but nobody really showed any further interest.
Then one day in June, I was filling up my car with gasoline after work and saw a coworker buying cigarettes. Because of his smoking and his rough personality, I never thought about sharing the gospel with him. He came over to talk to me, and we talked about music and movies. When I explained that I don’t watch movies with vulgarity, violence, or immorality, the topic changed to religion. I grabbed the Book of Mormon from the backseat of my car, wrote my testimony inside the cover, and gave it to him.
The next time I worked with him, I asked if he had read any of it. He said, “Jeff, I read the introduction, and I know it’s true. I want to know more and be baptized.”
That really shocked me. I gave the missionaries his address so that they could teach him, and I took him to church with me. He loved it. He set a date for his baptism.
Before his baptism, he told me that he had been offered a really good job, but he had to act immediately. It was in Alaska, and he was leaving in two days. So we found the address of the meetinghouse in town, and then he left.
Over the next few months we kept in touch, but he made no progress toward baptism. Then one day he called and told me he had contacted the missionaries and was going to be baptized that Saturday.
Now he holds the Aaronic Priesthood and has blessed the sacrament several times.
This goes to show that you never know who will accept the gospel, so share it with everyone, and God will provide a way.

Over 100 young people and their advisers from the Ft. Collins Colorado Stake teamed up with the U. S. Forest Service to rehabilitate a large meadow in the Roosevelt National Forest.
The young people worked with their leaders and forest service personnel to improve trails, repair bridges, and reseed bare areas. The stake received a special certificate of appreciation from the U.S. Department of Agriculture, and all along the trail are several small signs describing the Forest Service projects and mentioning the LDS youth who initiated the work.

The Prophet recognized in himself many weaknesses, but he set about to overcome them. He recorded that on one occasion a man came into his home and in a rage called him almost every name under heaven. The Prophet wrote that he was so incensed he kicked the man out of his house and all the way to the front gate. He then went back to his office and wrote in his journal how unbecoming of a prophet his actions had been. He never lost his temper again.

One of our elders said that he was not a member of the Church when he began dating an LDS girl. One of his first comments was “What’s a nice girl like you doing by being a member of the Mormon church?” She asked him what he knew about the Church. He answered, “Well, not much.”

She said, “That’s kind of a stupid thing for you to say, then, if you don’t know anything about it.” So, because he liked the girl, he had to study it out. Partly because of her and partly because of what he learned, he joined the Church. Recognize your opportunity.

Three children of the Goodman family of Sandy, Utah, were killed in an automobile accident a few weeks before Christmas last year. As I attended the funeral for these children, my heart was touched by the outpouring of love and support from the Goodmans’ ward and stake. More than 1500 people attended the funeral. They are a remarkable family, and the children were remarkable. The twelve Goodman children and their parents have sung together in many parts of the world, sharing their message of love and the importance of the family. Three other family members were seriously injured in the accident. The Goodmans said that the outpouring of love and kindness from others helped them through this tragedy. The love and help that the Goodman family received is an example of people following the Savior’s teaching: “If ye love me, keep my commandments” (John 14:15).

I learned an interesting little lesson about this one day. It was a number of years ago and four-wheel-drive pickups were just starting to be the thing to have. Before that they had been mostly army vehicles and some heavy construction-type vehicles. But in the mid- to late 70s they started to be sought after, and wanted, and available.

I convinced myself that because I wanted one, I needed one. I went to my sweet wife Estella and said, “I need a four-wheel-drive truck.” And she said, “You don’t either.” And I said, “I do too!” She said, “We’ve lived all this time without one. Why do we need one now?” And I said: “Well, I’ll just explain that to you. What if we had a terrible blizzard and I needed to go down to the store and get milk for our children and the only way I could get through would be with a four-wheel-drive pickup? How about that?” And she said, “Well, then go get you a four-wheel-drive pickup and it won’t matter because we won’t have any money to buy milk for the kids, even if you can get to the grocery store!” Well, being of a cautious nature and wanting to provide for my family, I went and got a four-wheel-drive pickup. And then I couldn’t wait to see where it could go.

I next felt that I needed to get us some firewood stored away. So I went to the mountains; it had already snowed. At the lower end of the mountain road, it was a skiff; but the further I went, the deeper it got. I knew it was becoming risky, but how could I stop? This wonderful piece of equipment had all the power and all the traction—and I could just go and go.

So I went too far. I pulled off where I could get a load of wood; and as soon as I stopped, I was stuck. All the wheels spun. All four of them spun in the snow. I was rather embarrassed. I was a little frightened and worried, and I was very humble. I did not know what to do; but I thought, “As long as I don’t know what to do, I might as well cut some wood and load this truck.” And so I did. I loaded it high and full and heavy. And then because I did not know what else to do, I decided to try it one more time. As I put it in gear and applied power, I could feel it moving out of the snow and back onto the road. I was free to go home.

I have thought so many times it was the load that freed me. It was the load that gave me mobility. It was the load that carried me forward.

My father was like that. He was a scientist. He lectured to audiences in countries around the world. Once I read a talk he had given to a large scientific convention. In it, he referred to creation and a Creator as he talked about his science. I knew that few, if any, in that audience would have shared his faith. So I said to him with wonder and admiration, “Dad, you bore your testimony.” He looked at me with surprise on his face and said, “Did I?”
He had not even known that he was being brave. He simply said what he knew was true. When he bore testimony, even those who rejected it knew it came not by design but because it was part of him. He was what he was, wherever he was.

The island of Tahiti claims the bulk of the 150,000 people who make up the scattered population of French Polynesia—a self-governing French territory which elects its own members to the French parliament. Since it is a French territory and not an independent nation, Tahiti cannot enter its soccer teams in the World Cup or the Olympic Games. However, it does have a right to compete in the South Pacific Games, held every four years.
In the South Pacific Games held in Suva, Fiji, in 1979, Erroll Bennett’s strong stand on the sanctity of Sunday was to have remarkable consequences.
In the preliminary discussions with the Fijians in the months before the games, Napoléon Spitz had anticipated that the Sunday issue might again present a problem. He was right. The Fijians scheduled the soccer final on Sunday, and the issue was still unresolved when the Tahitian athletic delegation arrived in Suva, with Napoléon Spitz at its head.
In fact, the Sunday issue was not new to the games. Tonga and Samoa had raised objections in previous years, also on religious grounds, but had not managed to force a change. In 1979, however, things were to be different.
Napoleon Spitz was well-prepared. Armed with a half-forgotten and long-neglected clause in the South Pacific Games Constitution, he pointed out that the rules actually prohibited Sunday games and that he would insist they be applied.
“The soccer games were taken off Sundays,” he now relates. “There was no way I could have accepted Erroll not playing, and since he wouldn’t play on a Sunday, that was the only alternative. I remember they agreed to move the basketball games from Sunday also, because there were five Mormon basketball players in the Tahitian group.” And his face breaks into a wide smile as he adds: “You Mormons have created a real mess in South Pacific sports!”
After months of negotiations, the 1979 games finally arrived. The Tahitian soccer team, led by its LDS captain, won its quarter-finals match against the New Hebrides (now the independent nation of Vanuatu), after it was switched from Sunday to Monday. Tahiti followed it with a semi-finals win against New Caledonia—and then climaxed the series with a finals win over Fiji.

I decided early that I wanted to become a physician and, because of certain circumstances, was able to start at the university early. I focused on completing as many pre-med courses as possible before my mission and even went to school in the summer so that I could finish the physics series. Because I had nearly completed my pre-med requirements, with permission I took the MCAT test on a Saturday while I was in the Language Training Mission before my mission to Mexico. As I look back now, it seems impossible, even crazy. But that crazy yet inspired process allowed me to come home and then apply for and be ready to start medical school just weeks after my sweetheart, Marsha, and I were married. I was twenty-two. I couldn’t foresee the future, but at one step at a time it unfolded and felt right.

More important than our secular details, which can be measured, things were happening inside of me and inside of us as a couple. We were blessed with two sons while I was in medical school and with three more sons during my residency. We paid our meager tithing, as you do, and learned to contribute fast offerings. We read scriptures daily, prayed, and attended the temple, as you do. We accepted callings and served others, even when it was seemingly inconvenient. This wonderful process of learning, applying, and becoming was happening for us. We were experiencing what we personally needed to know and understand and could not learn any other way.