Gospel Story Finder

Although each of you has had similar experiences with divine patterns, let me share with you the continuing impact of such a divine pattern on my life. When I was fourteen, I stumbled, one long Sunday afternoon, into my own sacred grove, a mysterious book called the Pearl of Great Price. Intrigued by the delicious promise of the book with its strange hieroglyphs, and able to attach its teaching to the frame I had read not long before in Nephi Anderson’s early Mormon novel Added Upon, I read all afternoon, engrossed by an illuminating glimpse into the plan of salvation and redemption of humankind as told by the metaphor or pattern of a journey from eternity to eternity. Since that long-ago afternoon, my glimpse has expanded and deepened into a pattern in which I see myself trekking the plains of mortality as a heaven-directed pioneer or as a mariner on a heaven-bound voyage. I’m 61 years out, with a great mate and a fine crew; the sea is often rough, but I’m confident of the charts, certain of the polestar, sure of the location of our home port, and looking forward to seeing an increasing number of my fellow earth-farers who have already reached port.

Last July, as my wife and I visited in Ravensburg, Germany, with a long-on-the-verge-of-baptism friend, I began once more to sketch out for him this Journey Pattern of the plan of salvation. His wife laughed and brought him an envelope containing the felt cutouts we use so often in teaching the plan. She said, “It’s this plan that so attracts him to Mormonism; he uses these figures to teach it to all our friends.”

Clearly moved, our dryland Mormon friend looked us directly in the eyes and said, “Dieser Plan ist fantastisch!”

I warned him that such faith in the plan would soon bring him into the waters of baptism; and it will. The plan, made so vivid and meaningful when depicted as a Journey Pattern, is simply fantastisch!

We need to make sense of what we perceive as injustice. Raising a child with a disability can give you a close view of the cruel side of life. Creating a new definition of what is fair and just, however, can reduce anger. For example, when my daughter was 10 years old, she attended a Sunday School party. She came home scraped and bleeding. One of the boys in the class had called her a “stupid retard” and pushed her down. I felt angry that my child was hurt. Angry feelings can be a message that something needs to be done. Anger can alert us to dangers, problems, and offenses that may need some correcting. We can make decisions, however, about how we act on those feelings. We can deal with anger in a constructive way.
My husband and I visited the boy’s family. We sat with the boy and his parents and calmly talked about what the word retarded meant. We asked the boy how he would feel if he were unable to do the things he enjoyed. This boy became one of our daughter’s strongest allies. That experience ultimately helped another person to grow. This seemed “fair.” Retaliation would not have produced justice. Although anger may come from experiences with injustice, we can turn them into good experiences for ourselves and others.

However, I warn you, a new name, new flexibility, and fewer reports won’t make an ounce of difference in our service unless we see this as an invitation to care for one another in a bold, new, holier way, as President Nelson has just said. As we lift our spiritual eyes toward living the law of love more universally, we pay tribute to the generations who have served that way for years. Let me note a recent example of such devotion in hopes that legions more will grasp the Lord’s commandment to “be with and strengthen”10 our brothers and sisters.
Last January 14, a Sunday, just a little after 5:00 p.m., my young friends Brett and Kristin Hamblin were chatting at their home in Tempe, Arizona, after Brett’s day serving in the bishopric and Kristin’s busy day caring for their five children.
Suddenly Kristin, a seemingly successful survivor of breast cancer the previous year, fell unresponsive. A call to 911 brought an emergency team trying desperately to revive her. As Brett prayed and pleaded, he quickly placed just two other telephone calls: one to his mother requesting her help with the children, the other to Edwin Potter, his home teacher. The latter conversation in its entirety went as follows:
Edwin, noting caller ID, said, “Hey, Brett, what’s up?”
Brett’s near-shouted response was “I need you here—now!”
In fewer minutes than Brett could count, his priesthood colleague was standing at his side, helping with the children and then driving Brother Hamblin to the hospital behind the ambulance carrying his wife. There, less than 40 minutes after she had first closed her eyes, the physicians pronounced Kristin dead.
As Brett sobbed, Edwin simply held him in his arms and cried with him—for a long, long time. Then, leaving Brett to grieve with other family members who had gathered, Edwin drove to the bishop’s home to tell him what had just transpired. A marvelous bishop started immediately for the hospital while Edwin drove on to the Hamblins’ home. There he and his wife, Charlotte, who had also come running, played with the five now-motherless Hamblin children, ages 12 down to 3. They fed them an evening meal, held an impromptu musical recital, and helped get them ready for bed.
Brett told me later, “The amazing part of this story isn’t that Edwin came when I called. In an emergency, there are always people willing to help. No, the amazing part of this story is that he was the one I thought of. There were other people around. Kristin has a brother and sister less than three miles away. We have a great bishop, the greatest. But the relationship between Edwin and me is such that I felt instinctively to call him when I needed help. The Church provides us a structured way to live the second commandment better—to love, serve, and develop relationships with our brothers and sisters that help us move closer to God.”11
Edwin said about the experience, “Elder Holland, the irony in all of this is that Brett has been our family’s home teacher for longer than I have been theirs. Over that time, he has visited us more as a friend than by assignment. He has been a great example, the epitome of what an active and involved priesthood bearer should be. My wife, our boys—we don’t see him as one obligated to bring us a message at the end of each month; we think of him as a friend who lives just down the street and around the corner, who would do anything in this world to bless us. I am glad I could repay just a little bit of the debt I owe him.”12

Earlier this year, I asked the young adults of the Church to consecrate a portion of their time each week to study everything Jesus said and did as recorded in the standard works.9 I invited them to let the scriptural citations about Jesus Christ in the Topical Guide become their personal core curriculum.10
I gave that challenge because I had already accepted it myself. I read and underlined every verse cited about Jesus Christ, as listed under the main heading and the 57 subtitles in the Topical Guide.11 When I finished that exciting exercise, my wife asked me what impact it had on me. I told her, “I am a different man!”
I felt a renewed devotion to Him as I read again in the Book of Mormon the Savior’s own statement about His mission in mortality. He declared:
“I came into the world to do the will of my Father, because my Father sent me.
“And my Father sent me that I might be lifted up upon the cross.”12
As Latter-day Saints, we refer to His mission as the Atonement of Jesus Christ, which made resurrection a reality for all and made eternal life possible for those who repent of their sins and receive and keep essential ordinances and covenants.
It is doctrinally incomplete to speak of the Lord’s atoning sacrifice by shortcut phrases, such as “the Atonement” or “the enabling power of the Atonement” or “applying the Atonement” or “being strengthened by the Atonement.” These expressions present a real risk of misdirecting faith by treating the event as if it had living existence and capabilities independent of our Heavenly Father and His Son, Jesus Christ.
Under the Father’s great eternal plan, it is the Savior who suffered. It is the Savior who broke the bands of death. It is the Savior who paid the price for our sins and transgressions and blots them out on condition of our repentance. It is the Savior who delivers us from physical and spiritual death.
There is no amorphous entity called “the Atonement” upon which we may call for succor, healing, forgiveness, or power. Jesus Christ is the source. Sacred terms such as Atonement and Resurrection describe what the Savior did, according to the Father’s plan, so that we may live with hope in this life and gain eternal life in the world to come. The Savior’s atoning sacrifice—the central act of all human history—is best understood and appreciated when we expressly and clearly connect it to Him.
The importance of the Savior’s mission was emphasized by the Prophet Joseph Smith, who declared emphatically that “the fundamental principles of our religion are the testimony of the Apostles and Prophets, concerning Jesus Christ, that He died, was buried, and rose again the third day, and ascended into heaven; and all other things which pertain to our religion are only appendages to it.”13
It was this very statement of the Prophet that provided the incentive for 15 prophets, seers, and revelators to issue and sign their testimony to commemorate the 2,000th anniversary of the Lord’s birth. That historic testimony is titled “The Living Christ.”14 Many members have memorized its truths. Others barely know of its existence. As you seek to learn more about Jesus Christ, I urge you to study “The Living Christ.”
As we invest time in learning about the Savior and His atoning sacrifice, we are drawn to participate in another key element to accessing His power: we choose to have faith in Him and follow Him.
True disciples of Jesus Christ are willing to stand out, speak up, and be different from the people of the world. They are undaunted, devoted, and courageous. I learned of such disciples during a recent assignment in Mexico, where I met with government officials as well as leaders of other religious denominations. Each thanked me for our members’ heroic and successful efforts to protect and preserve strong marriages and families in their country.
There is nothing easy or automatic about becoming such powerful disciples. Our focus must be riveted on the Savior and His gospel. It is mentally rigorous to strive to look unto Him in every thought.15 But when we do, our doubts and fears flee.16
Recently I learned of a fearless young Laurel. She was invited to participate in a statewide competition for her high school on the same evening she had committed to participate in a stake Relief Society meeting. When she realized the conflict and explained to competition officials that she would need to leave the competition early to attend an important meeting, she was told she would be disqualified if she did so.
What did this latter-day Laurel do? She kept her commitment to participate in the Relief Society meeting. As promised, she was disqualified from the statewide competition. When asked about her decision, she replied simply, “Well, the Church is more important, isn’t it?”
Faith in Jesus Christ propels us to do things we otherwise would not do. Faith that motivates us to action gives us more access to His power.
We also increase the Savior’s power in our lives when we make sacred covenants and keep those covenants with precision. Our covenants bind us to Him and give us godly power. As faithful disciples, we repent and follow Him into the waters of baptism. We walk along the covenant path to receive other essential ordinances.17 And gratefully, God’s plan provides for those blessings to be extended to ancestors who died without an opportunity to obtain them during their mortal lives.18
Covenant-keeping men and women seek for ways to keep themselves unspotted from the world so there will be nothing blocking their access to the Savior’s power. One faithful wife and mother wrote this recently: “These are troubled and perilous times. How blessed we are to have the increased knowledge of the plan of salvation and the inspired guidance from loving prophets, apostles, and leaders to help us sail these stormy seas safely. We stopped our habit of turning on the radio in the morning. Instead, we now listen to a general conference talk on our mobile phones every morning as we prepare ourselves for another day.”
Another element in drawing the Savior’s power into our lives is to reach up to Him in faith. Such reaching requires diligent, focused effort.
Do you remember the biblical story of the woman who suffered for 12 years with a debilitating problem?19 She exercised great faith in the Savior, exclaiming, “If I may touch but his clothes, I shall be whole.”20
This faithful, focused woman needed to stretch as far as she could to access His power. Her physical stretching was symbolic of her spiritual stretching.
Many of us have cried out from the depths of our hearts a variation of this woman’s words: “If I could spiritually stretch enough to draw the Savior’s power into my life, I would know how to handle my heart-wrenching situation. I would know what to do. And I would have the power to do it.”
When you reach up for the Lord’s power in your life with the same intensity that a drowning person has when grasping and gasping for air, power from Jesus Christ will be yours. When the Savior knows you truly want to reach up to Him—when He can feel that the greatest desire of your heart is to draw His power into your life—you will be led by the Holy Ghost to know exactly what you should do.21
When you spiritually stretch beyond anything you have ever done before, then His power will flow into you.22 And then you will understand the deep meaning of words we sing in the hymn “The Spirit of God”:
The Lord is extending the Saints’ understanding. …
The knowledge and power of God are expanding;
The veil o’er the earth is beginning to burst.23
The gospel of Jesus Christ is filled with His power, which is available to every earnestly seeking daughter or son of God. It is my testimony that when we draw His power into our lives, both He and we will rejoice.24
As one of His special witnesses, I declare that God lives! Jesus is the Christ! His Church has been restored to the earth! God’s prophet upon the earth today is President Thomas S. Monson, whom I sustain with all my heart. I so testify, with my expression of love and blessing for each of you, in the sacred name of Jesus Christ, amen.

May I tell you of a few of the leaders of our Church in Russia in order for you to appreciate the strength they represent to members and missionaries. Boris Mokhov, now one of Moscow’s district presidents, came to the Church along a path many have followed. Growing up in an avowedly atheistic society and home, and, after the 1985 institution of Gorbachev’s glasnost, unable to respond to the appeal of the Russian Orthodox Church, he was surprised when his oldest daughter met LDS missionaries. Two young elders had visited her high school class and made a presentation about the Church, inviting any interested to attend church services with them the following Sunday. Several of the young students did visit the church, among them, Natasha Mokhov.

Natasha told her older brother about this church, and he agreed to attend meetings with her. In time the missionaries taught them the missionary discussions, secured permission from the Mokhov parents, and baptized the two oldest children. Eventually the two younger sisters in the family also began going each Sunday to the meetings and were baptized. The parents were pleased to note a very positive change in the children’s attitudes and behavior. They had worried earlier about some of their older children’s choices of friends and activities. Now they felt increasing admiration for their resolution and integrity.

On occasion the Mokhov father and mother also attended church services. The children, many missionaries, and Church members helped the parents gain an assurance that they belonged with the children in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Finally their baptismal day arrived, and church service and growth followed. Approximately two months ago, the Mokhov parents and their four children were among thirty-one Moscow members of the Church to visit the Stockholm Temple, where they were sealed as a family for time and for eternity.

A few years ago my wife and I took some friends to Zion National Park in southern Utah. We decided to hike to Angel’s Landing up a narrow and winding trail that led to a small mesa high above the canyon floor—really high. At one point the trail is so narrow and drops off so abruptly (and so far!) on both sides that the park rangers have provided a railing made of linked chains affixed to the rock. We inched our way forward, hanging on for dear life, knowing that one misstep on the slippery sandstone would lead to disaster. I moved ahead, never letting go for a second, hand over hand, heart pounding. Don’t look down. Don’t look down! So I looked ahead, and there was my dear wife in the scariest, deadliest section of all—letting go! I yelled, Lehi-like, “hang on, my dear, or our children will be motherless!” She looked at me like I had lost my mind, confident that she was in complete control of the situation. Now, I must clarify, that when it comes to Lehi’s iron rod, my wife is the most assiduous hanger-on-er of anyone I know, but in this one instance I felt like Lehi fearing for the salvation of his loved ones, knowing that safety was in hanging on.

Two missionaries related that one night they were walking a familiar countryside road. Suddenly, they both had an impression that they should go no farther in that direction. They retraced their steps and took another way home. The next day, they wondered why they had felt constrained to stop. They went back, this time in daylight, and found that, within a few feet of where they had stopped, a bridge had washed out. These are a few examples of the Spirit constraining people to not do something. We should be aware, too, that sometimes the Spirit may constrain us to do something, not just warn us against an action.

On a recent trip to the UK, my son, grandson, and I had an amazing experience of love and empathy that has changed “our world”. Our rental car stalled, and exhibited a motor fault light on a one lane country road, with blind curves and large hedges on both sides.
We called for a rescue, but found out two hours later that they had no record of our request for help. We decided to leave the car, as it was getting dark, and were immediately picked up by a young couple who took an hour and a half out of their day to help us get to a hotel in a small town near the railroad station. We would need to take four trains in four hours to get back to London Heathrow airport for our flight the next day. At the hotel, the Saturday night crowd was dancing to a live band, and busy staff stopped to help us.
The hotel registrar informed us there were no rooms available for three persons, and advised us to look for lodging elsewhere, with suggestions. After an hour, we had been unable to secure transport to the other suggestions, over thirty minutes away, because it was too late.
We approached the bar for assistance again. The bartender paused, listened to our story, and said, “That sounds like a nightmare!” and went for the manager. Though very occupied, he took the time to listen to our dilemma. He shook his head sadly, reiterating no room available, and rehearsed concerns for fire codes, etc. However, as our despair became evident, his face suddenly changed. With a determined step, he took my hand. “Come with me!”
He led us up a back staircase and to a little room. It was pleasant, and peaceful, and was shortly accessorized with a couple of small mattresses. They had no sheets or pillows, “we are so full!” and he apologized several times, telling us there was nothing better, but promising the fee for breakfast would be covered. As I gazed at our place of rest, it felt like heaven!

Generally I have lots of questions, both secular and religious. That is one of the reasons I became a librarian. A story is often told of me at a young age telling a family friend that my dream job was to sit in the top of a really big building in a comfy chair behind a mahogany desk. I would be surrounded by books, and people would come and ask me questions, and I would answer them. I have found my dream job because I just love questions. I love answering them, but I also love asking them. I am always the one who wants to know more, and the number of questions I have just keeps growing.

Now let me assure you that I am still working to find suitable answers for the majority of these questions, but the patience of hope allows me to continue in faith despite the confusions inherent in our limited views and the challenges of a mortal existence. However, there is one area in which I had practiced the patience of hope and was blessed to see actual change as I waited in patience on the Lord’s timing. This came in improving one of my own talents in music.

I have always loved music. I have sung, and I have played various instruments. But I also have a learning disability that impacts a lot of things, including my reading, attention, and spatial awareness. I found early on that these challenges really impacted my ability to read four lines of music at once. While I successfully played one line of music on my oboe throughout high school and most of college, I was never really able to learn to play the piano. That was a great sadness in my life, but, realizing that this particular skill was connected to my disability, I lived my life with the patience of hope that someday I would be able to have that skill. I really thought that this might be something that I would have to wait for even into the eternities.

However, as an adult, I felt the lack of my piano skill acutely and decided that I would focus some of my time on working to improve it. I was pretty sure that I would never be a virtuoso, but I knew I could at least try to magnify my talent in whatever way I was physically able. I figured that if I did not become angry or frustrated, then I could work through the trials and maybe gain just a little proficiency. So I began to practice.

The amazing thing was that I had improved because of a connection I had never expected. This was because I had waited on the Lord’s time, and He had guided me in the intervening years to take up tap dancing. Little did I know that the hand-eye coordination I had developed in tap dancing would connect to my piano playing in very fundamental ways. The Lord had opened a way to help me fulfill the blessings of my musical talent. Now I am still not a virtuoso, but I can play the piano and organ in my home and in church.

I am so grateful for the blessings that came into my life because of the patience of hope. I know that sometimes it just takes a little patience to find exactly where our talents lie. At other times it takes patience to let the Lord fulfill His promises to us by allowing our life experiences to put us in the right place to develop the skills we need to work together for our good.

Many years ago I spoke of one who took his example from the Savior, one who stood firm and true, strong and worthy through the storms of life. He courageously magnified his priesthood callings. He provides an example to each of us. His name was Thomas Michael Wilson, the son of Willie and Julia Wilson of Lafayette, Alabama.
When he was but a teenager and he and his family were not yet members of the Church, he was stricken with cancer, followed by painful radiation therapy, and then blessed remission. This illness caused his family to realize that not only is life precious but that it can also be short. They began to look to religion to help them through this time of tribulation. Subsequently, they were introduced to the Church, and eventually all but the father were baptized. After accepting the gospel, young Brother Wilson yearned for the opportunity of being a missionary, even though he was older than most young men when they begin their missionary service. At the age of 23, he received a mission call to serve in the Utah Salt Lake City Mission.
Elder Wilson’s missionary companions described his faith as unquestioning, undeviating, and unyielding. He was an example to all. However, after 11 months of missionary service, illness returned. Bone cancer now required the amputation of his arm and shoulder. Yet he persisted in his missionary labors.
Elder Wilson’s courage and consuming desire to remain on his mission so touched his nonmember father that he investigated the teachings of the Church and also became a member.
I learned that an investigator whom Elder Wilson had taught was baptized but then wanted to be confirmed by Elder Wilson, whom she respected so much. She, with a few others, journeyed to Elder Wilson’s bedside in the hospital. There, with his remaining hand resting upon her head, Elder Wilson confirmed her a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Elder Wilson continued month after month his precious but painful service as a missionary. Blessings were given; prayers were offered. Because of his example of dedication, his fellow missionaries lived closer to God.
Elder Wilson’s physical condition deteriorated. The end drew near, and he was to return home. He asked to serve but one additional month, and his request was granted. He put his faith in God, and He whom Thomas Michael Wilson silently trusted opened the windows of heaven and abundantly blessed him. His parents, Willie and Julia Wilson, and his brother Tony came to Salt Lake City to help their son and brother home to Alabama. However, there was yet a prayed-for, a yearned-for blessing to be bestowed. The family invited me to come with them to the Jordan River temple, where those sacred ordinances which bind families for eternity, as well as for time, were performed.
I said good-bye to the Wilson family. I can see Elder Wilson yet as he thanked me for being with him and his loved ones. He said, “It doesn’t matter what happens to us in this life as long as we have the gospel of Jesus Christ and live it. It doesn’t matter whether I teach the gospel on this or the other side of the veil, so long as I can teach it.” What courage. What confidence. What love. The Wilson family made the long trek home to Lafayette, where Elder Thomas Michael Wilson slipped from here to eternity. He was buried there with his missionary tag in place.

Several years ago a fine young woman came to me as her stake president. She was troubled over some challenges she was facing at the time.

She said, “President Kerr, it’s so hard to be a Latter-day Saint.”

We discussed her reasons for feeling that way. Our conversation led quite naturally to a discussion of the Savior and of His suffering for each of us. We spoke of His Resurrection and of its implications for our lives now and in the eternities. We then spoke of the Savior’s explanation to some of His followers of what was expected of them as disciples. We read from the scriptures where some felt the demands of their discipleship were too hard, and they turned their backs on the Savior and walked no more with Him (see John 6:66).

The young sister sat quietly for a few thoughtful moments, and, then, with tears in her eyes, she said, “Oh, I couldn’t do that.”

When I suggested that there is more than one way to turn our backs on the Savior, the light seemed to turn on in her mind and heart.

She said, “Now I can see that if I truly love my Savior and keep Him in my mind and heart, I cannot violate His trust.”

Then she said, “I want to change what I said when we first began this conversation. I now know that it would be hard not to be a Latter-day Saint.”

Beth Lancaster, a Mia Maid, had been going to church for years with her member friends before she was baptized. One day, when Beth was 13, she asked her friend, Megan Rasmussen, if she could take the discussions. Beth says, “I wouldn’t have asked her if it hadn’t been for all my friends’ examples and the joy they had in their lives.”
“I saw the examples of the Rasmussen family and the Bromley family and how happy they were and how much love they had in their lives,” Beth says. “I decided I wanted some of that.”
Sixteen-year-old Jake Bromley, one of Beth’s good friends, says, “You never know when somebody will be looking at you, wondering why members of the Church are so good and what makes them so happy. Be a good example 100 percent of the time.”

“Could I … ah …” The dark haired girl in front of me shifted awkwardly. “I mean, I was wondering … if we could talk.”
I had been teaching the 15-year-olds in Sunday School for only a month and had just finished my weekly lesson.
“How about right now?” I asked.
“It’s about …” she began. “Well, I have this friend see, and the other day we were talking and …” Her unusual seriousness puzzled me. This was the girl who always talked and laughed with her friends (even during my lessons). What could be so serious that she would now be this solemn? I tuned back to her words, “… and this friend said he doesn’t believe in Joseph Smith anymore because he was a gold digger and a thief and he drank a lot.” I smiled. She continued, “My friend has these books to prove it!”
So that was the big life-and-death matter. This 15-year-old had finally had her first taste of the cold and nutritionless dish called “anti-Mormon literature.”
She went on, “Those books—they say the Church isn’t true! They say Joseph Smith was a con man and that all he wanted was money and …”
“Hold it!” I stopped her. How many reading assignments had I given in the last month which had gone unfulfilled by my whole class? I had to turn cartwheels to even get these kids to skim the scriptures, and here this girl was reading entire books of her friend’s anti-Mormon publications. I faced her. “Not all that stuff you’re reading is true.”
“But it’s in a book,” she responded innocently.
I tried to explain, “Just because something is printed, sold, and even accepted and popular doesn’t make it true.”
“I know that.” She was embarrassed. “But how do you know when something you read or hear is true?” A very good question—and here is what we finally decided:
Anything heard or read about another person, idea, or belief needs to pass what we called the
H O G M E T test. Each letter stands for a question.
My 15-year-old friend was ready to leave. She smiled, “Next time that guy ever says he has another book for me to read, I’ll have a few questions for him first.”
“Good luck,” I offered.
“Oh, I won’t need luck.” She started down the hall, “Now I have H O G M E T!”

Let me share two examples of discipleship in action. The first is from the life of President Thomas S. Monson, demonstrating the power of simple kindness and Jesus’s teaching, “He that is greatest among you shall be your servant.”
Nearly 20 years ago, President Monson spoke in general conference about a 12-year-old young woman suffering from cancer. He told of her courage and the kindness of her friends to carry her up Mount Timpanogos in central Utah.
A few years ago I met Jami Palmer Brinton and heard the story from a different perspective—the perspective of what President Monson had done for her.
Jami met President Monson in March 1993, a day after being told that a mass above her right knee was a fast-growing bone cancer. With her father assisting, President Monson administered a priesthood blessing, promising, “Jesus will be on your right side and on your left side to buoy you up.”
“Upon leaving his office that day,” Jami said, “I unfastened a balloon tied to my wheelchair and gave it to him. ‘You’re the Best!’ it announced in bright letters.”
Through her chemotherapy treatments and limb-saving surgery, President Monson did not forget her. Jami said, “President Monson exemplified what it means to be a true disciple of Christ. [He] lifted me from sorrow to great and abiding hope.” Three years after their first meeting, Jami again sat in President Monson’s office. At the end of the meeting, he did something that Jami will never forget. So typical of President Monson’s thoughtfulness, he surprised her with the very same balloon that she had given to him three years before. “You’re the Best!” the balloon proclaimed. He had saved it, knowing she would return to his office when she was cured of cancer. Fourteen years after first meeting Jami, President Monson performed her marriage to Jason Brinton in the Salt Lake Temple.
We can learn so much from the discipleship of President Monson. He often reminds the General Authorities to remember this simple question: “What would Jesus do?”

There are other stories. My wife happens to be related to the family of Jacob Hamblin, and those who have worked with me over the years know that I have a particular feeling for this man’s story. His name, I suppose, is known to most members of the Church, and he had a particular ability to express his feelings and the motivating power of faith that touched his life. I would like to rehearse just a little of what the gospel meant to him.

He said that he first heard of the gospel when he was living on the frontiers of Wisconsin. He heard through a friend or a neighbor that there were preachers in the area who were proclaiming that the gospel had been restored and that it was the privilege of every man to find out for himself through the Spirit if it was true. Jacob did not understand much about what that meant, but the feeling so fired his mind that he could hardly wait to hear this news that the gospel had been restored. He found the missionaries holding a meeting in a house. He had arrived after the meeting had begun, but as he listened to the message, he felt, “This is what I’ve been searching for, what I need more than anything in life. How can I know if it’s true?”

As if he had asked the question aloud, the elder stood up again and said, “If there’s anyone here who would like to know the truth of what we have just told you, we promise you that if you’ll be baptized by immersion and receive the laying on of hands for the gift of the Holy Ghost the Lord will reveal it to you.”

And Jacob said, “That’s good enough for me. I’ll do that, even though it costs the sacrifice of everything I have.”

He went home and told his wife. She said, “Oh, yes, that’s just what it will cost you. I won’t live with you any more if you join that church.”

His father and his brother said, “Jacob, what’s the matter with you? Don’t you know that those are the Mormons? It’s one thing to get religion, but why did you have to choose the worst one there is?”

But he still had that independence of spirit and, having made arrangements to be baptized, he proceeded to meet the elders. He later said that on his way to be baptized he began to reflect on what the sacrifice would mean, and it seemed to him almost too much to bear; he was soon on the point of turning back. (That is a good thing for missionaries to remember, that this wavering happens to most people as they are about to join the Church.) but, he said, as he was about to turn back, he felt the presence of someone near him. He realized that it was his dead grandfather, and he heard a voice say, “Go forward, my son. You cannot comprehend the joy that will come into your life as a consequence of what you are about to do today.” Thus fortified, he went forward and met the elders and was baptized into the Church.

As the elders confirmed him a member of the Church, one of them said, “The spirits in prison have greatly rejoiced over what you have done.” Jacob did not understand that, but he told them of his experience with his grandfather on the way. They then explained to him the great work of salvation for the dead, and suddenly he knew why he had joined the Church—not just to satisfy his own interest and curiosity, but to become an instrument in the hand of the Lord to bring the same joy and privilege and blessing to the lives of many other people.

He returned and told his family what he had done. Evidently they said worse things than they had said before, but now, he said, “I just laughed at them and I told my father, ‘Never mind; within two years I’ll baptize you in the Church, too.’”

Well, they all followed him, and they went through the turmoils and the trials of the days of Nauvoo. After the death of the Prophet and the exodus, they followed him across Iowa and across the plains. In the process his wife did leave him, and his mother died along the way. The rest of the family settled in Tooele, and then were called to go to what must have seemed the very end of the earth down in southern Utah, at that time a desolate desert inhabited by what Jacob thought were the most lowly people he had ever seen on the face of the earth. While they were living there, his father died in their little hut, and just before his death he called Jacob to him and said something like this: “Jacob, you know that you have been as a Joseph to your family. Like Joseph who was sold into Egypt, you have brought salvation to your family. Thanks for your persistence and faithfulness. Thanks, Jacob, for all these blessings.”

Does that sound a little strange to you? For what blessing could he possibly be thankful, down there in the desert dying under miserable circumstances? “Thanks for all these blessings, Jacob.” Well, he knew of what he talked. He thought of the gospel that had been restored, and he said, “There’s no use to pray for me that I stay here longer. I know the gospel. It’s time for me to go where I’ll be happier. Thanks for those great blessings.”

Benjamin Juarez, 12, faces different challenges in Brooklyn. He was born in California, lived briefly in Mexico, and now, while his father is studying to be a doctor, Benjamin and his three younger brothers do what every successful Brooklyn child does: adapt.
“You can’t live here the same as you do other places,” Benjamin says. “For your own safety, you have to keep your eyes wide open.” Once, at school, some bigger boys jumped him. He’s never let that happen again. “You have to be a little tough, just for safety.”
That’s another lesson of city life: everyone takes care of himself, and that extends to the gospel. “My friends in the ward live a long way from me,” Benjamin says. “We only see each other on Mutual nights, Sundays, and for Scout activities. So everybody has to have his own testimony. He just can’t depend on anyone else for it.”

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

One day at school, my friend Sophia asked me what I believed in and if I belonged to any religion. I remembered the first Article of Faith, which says, “We believe in God, the Eternal Father, and in His Son, Jesus Christ, and in the Holy Ghost.” So I shared that with her.
I also told her that I was a Christian and a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. She listened to me and understood what I shared with her.
I felt very good because I knew that I had been brave to share my beliefs with my friend. Because of my hard work to learn the Articles of Faith, I was able to share the gospel and know what to say.

Here on my mission to the Philippines, I discovered that Christmas is celebrated from September to December. Instead of bringing the snow that I’m used to, December in the Philippines is constantly full of rainy, gray skies. It’s green everywhere you look—banana trees, coconut palms, other palm trees.
For our last appointment on Christmas Eve, we visited a family we had just started teaching. We rode our bikes through the thick jungle to the family’s bamboo-stick, tin-roofed house. When we arrived, I saw the nanay (mother) fishing in the river behind her house with a long bamboo stick and a bit of string. She told us she was trying to catch fish for their ulam (main dish) so they could eat that night. We had planned to go to a Christmas party with the other missionaries at 6:30 p.m., but we decided to spend some time catching tiny fish in the rain to help this woman feed her family instead.
That night, as my companion and I watched a video about Jesus Christ’s birth, I thought about how He came into the world with nothing and left with nothing. The family we served didn’t have much either. But I realized you don’t need much to be happy. Christmas is about more than decorations, food, or even service. It’s about God’s love (see 1 Nephi 11:13–23). It’s about charity, the pure love of Christ. It’s about loving everyone.
Although this Christmas was different for me, my experience has given me extra motivation to keep working and keep serving because the gospel of Jesus Christ can bring people so much happiness. The gospel teaches us how we can reach out in love and charity. I felt charity for that family.
The author is serving in the Philippines Antipolo Mission.

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.