Gospel Story Finder

I remember being on an assignment in the Ivory Coast to reorganize a stake presidency in Abidjan. One of our Area Seventies was with me as we interviewed the 40 priesthood leaders in the stake trying to find who the Lord wanted to be the stake president. One by one as they came in I would ask them if they had been to the temple in Accra. At that time it had been operating for about 18 months. For many big smiles spread across their faces as they told us they had been and had their wives and children sealed to them. Others hadn't been so blessed.

I remember one faithful priesthood leader with tears in his eyes, saying, "President, we have been saving our money to go to the temple. Hopefully this year my wife and I will be able to go and maybe take one of our six children to be sealed." My heart ached for them as I thought of my own children. How could I decide which child I would take? Thankfully, because of the General Temple Patron Assistance Fund, we were able to assure that this faithful Ivorian brother and all his family were able to go to the temple and be sealed together forever. You will remember in October 2011 General Conference that President Monson encouraged those who wished to contribute to this worthy fund.

The principle of prior assurance and personal revelation lead me to a story that I feel impressed to share. I want to be very clear that this is a personal story, and just because it happened this way for me and my family does not mean that you will have the same experience. Rather, I hope the principles taught can be helpful to you in your life.

When we were engaged to be married, Bethany received a father's blessing. During that blessing, she felt a spiritual impression that she would have twins someday. She shared that experience with me, and I was excited at the thought. We both worked hard to align our wills with the Lord's and make use of the Atonement so that we would be worthy to receive this promised blessing. With our first pregnancy, I would not have been surprised if they said that we were going to have twins. We did not get twins but instead a healthy, beautiful girl: Lila (who is here with us today). Later, when Bethany was pregnant again, we wondered about twins. No twins. This time we had a beautiful, healthy boy: Ezra. During this pregnancy, Bethany started having some health complications. At this point, we were very happy with the family that we had; however, my wife and I knew that we would have twins someday. I couldn't help but wonder when that would be. When we found out we were expecting again, we thought for sure this would be twins. We went to the doctor and expected him to tell us that there were two babies that would come to us. This was not the case, but we did have another beautiful daughter: Madelyn, who taught me that powerful lesson about prayer. With increasingly difficult pregnancies, we wondered when or if these twins would be able to come to our family. In our fourth pregnancy, we thought surely this must be the twins coming. We went to the doctor again, somewhat anxious about what we would find out. As it turns out, we were again blessed with a beautiful baby girl: Sophia. I want to be clear that we were not disappointed in any of our pregnancies when we found out that it was only going to be one baby at a time. We were grateful and had powerful spiritual experiences with each pregnancy that the Lord wanted us to have these children at that specific time. It was very clear, and we did not doubt those experiences. However, my wife and I pondered about the impression about having twins. We talked and prayed many times to see, hear, or understand what the Lord would teach us. Up to this point, we didn't feel anything, except that we were on the Lord's path and were doing what He wanted us to do.

In May of last year, Bethany and I attended the Rexburg Temple. We both felt a powerful feeling from God that our family was not complete, and a longing and desire to have more children. We truly felt aligned with God's will, and we were willing to do whatever He wanted us to do. As we pondered and discussed what that meant, we both felt the impression that we should pray for the twins to come. We acted in faith and prayed many times and thought often about that impression. In September of last year, Bethany was pregnant, and we went to our first doctor appointment. As we sat in the office, the ultrasound tech said the heartbeat was good and things looked very normal. After a minute or two, she gasped and said, "I have to tell you something--there are two babies in there." Bethany and I looked at each other with such a feeling of love, comfort, and peace. God had sent us twins. Bethany had a very difficult pregnancy, including being on bedrest for several months. This was a hard time for both of us, but we felt so blessed by the Lord. I won't go into all the details here, but I will say that many miracles occurred as these special spirits came into our family. On a routine doctor visit, we had to go immediately to the hospital to deliver the twins. Of all the close calls and possible problems that could have happened, they came safely.

While they did have to spend a few weeks in the hospital, they are very healthy and happy girls. Penelope is shown on the left and Clementine on the right.

I don't mean to say that they were healthy because of something we did. That was a tender mercy. Of course it was completely out of our hands. Through the entire pregnancy, birth, and extended hospital stay, it was evident that we were not in control at all. This was what God wanted to happen, and we have learned that if we are willing to align ourselves with His will, then all will be well. That does not mean that everything will be easy, but it will be right. It will be just the right circumstances that our Heavenly Father will allow us to have so we can learn how to become like Him.

As you can tell from this photo, Bethany and I have a large family. We had six kids in six years. Having a large and young family has its challenges, to say the least, but Bethany and I have the children we do today because we followed what the Lord wanted us to do. And because we have done that, we are so very happy with the incredible blessings that we have been given.

When I was 11, my family lived in a 12-story building in Hong Kong. Every day after school, I ran into the building and rode the elevator to our apartment.
One day I got into the elevator and pressed all the buttons so they lit up. Now the elevator would stop on each floor. The doors started to close, but all of a sudden a hand shot in and opened the doors. It was one of my upstairs neighbors. She didn’t say anything about the buttons, but I was nervous. It felt like it took forever to get home!
Sure enough, the elevator stopped on the next floor, waited, and then kept going. As soon as the doors opened on my floor, I dashed out. I got home sweating because I ran so fast!
Soon after I got home, the phone rang. It was the neighbor from the elevator. I got so nervous waiting for my mom to get off the phone.
After she got off the phone, my mother asked, “Did you press all the buttons on the elevator?”
I couldn’t lie to my mother. “Yes,” I said.
My mother smiled. “OK, let’s go upstairs and talk to our neighbor.”
We went upstairs together. I rang the doorbell, and my neighbor came to the door. My head hung low as I said I was sorry that I pressed all the buttons. I promised I would never do it again.
Our neighbor was kind. She said, “As long as you never do it again, I think that’s fine.”
After telling her I was sorry, I felt good. And I never pressed all the buttons on the elevator again.
This experience helped me learn about repentance. I knew I did something wrong. I felt sorry and asked for forgiveness. And I never did it again. Then I felt happy! Repentance can bring you happiness too.
From an interview with Kristin Pedersen.

Several years ago I received a letter from a longtime friend. He bore his testimony in that letter. I would like to share part of it with you tonight, since it illustrates the strength of the priesthood in one who learned what he should learn, who did what he should do, and who always tried to be what he should be. I shall read excerpts of that letter from my friend Theron W. Borup, who passed away three years ago at the age of 90:
“At the age of eight, when I was baptized and received the Holy Ghost, I was much impressed about being good and able to have the Holy Ghost to be a help throughout my life. I was told that the Holy Ghost associated only in good company and that when evil entered our lives, he would leave. Not knowing when I would need his promptings and guidance, I tried to so live that I would not lose this gift. On one occasion it saved my life.
“During World War II, I was an engineer-gunner in a B-24 bomber fighting in the South Pacific. … One day there was an announcement that the longest bombing flight ever made would be attempted to knock out an oil refinery. The promptings of the Spirit told me I would be assigned on this flight but that I would not lose my life. At the time I was the president of the LDS group.
“The combat was ferocious as we flew over Borneo. Our plane was hit by attacking planes and soon burst into flames, and the pilot told us to prepare to jump. I went out last. We were shot at by enemy pilots as we floated down. I had trouble inflating my life raft. Bobbing up and down in the water, I began to drown and passed out. I came to momentarily and cried, ‘God save me!’ … Again I tried inflating the life raft and this time was successful. With just enough air in it to keep me afloat, I rolled over on top of it, too exhausted to move.
“For three days we floated about in enemy territory with ships all about us and planes overhead. Why they couldn’t see a yellow group of rafts on blue water is a mystery,” he wrote. “A storm came up, and waves thirty feet high almost tore our rafts apart. Three days went by with no food or water. The others asked me if I prayed. I answered that I did pray and we would indeed be rescued. That evening we saw our submarine that was there to rescue us, but it passed by. The next morning it did [the same. We knew] this was the last day [it would] be in the area. Then came the promptings of the Holy Ghost. ‘You have the priesthood. Command the sub to pick you up.’ Silently I prayed, ‘In the name of Jesus Christ, and by the power of the priesthood, turn about and pick us up.’ In a few minutes, they were alongside of us. When on deck, the captain … said, ‘I don’t know how we ever found you, for we were not even looking for you.’ I knew.”

When my husband, Mick, died suddenly, I was devastated. He had been a constant source of inspiration, goodness, and patience. I wondered how I could raise our five children without him.
Shauna was one of my visiting teachers at the time. Occasionally she and her husband, Jim, who was also my home teacher, would take me out to a movie or to the temple.
Fall came, and as the weather turned cold I pulled my coat out of the closet. It was about 15 years old and looked very worn. I was embarrassed to wear it on my outings with Shauna and Jim; the lining was torn, and each time Jim helped me put on the coat, my hand got caught in the lining.
As Christmas drew near, I began to feel lonely. This would be my first Christmas without Mick, and I missed him very much. I tried to act happy for the children’s sake, but it was difficult.
Just a few days before Christmas, Jim, Shauna, and their oldest daughter came to visit me. They handed me a beautifully wrapped package with a card attached. The card read: “To Cheryl. Love, Mick.” Tears began to stream down my face. Inside the box was the most beautiful coat I had ever seen. It fit perfectly. “We knew that if Mick were here, he would have bought it for you,” they said.
Whenever I wear my coat, someone always compliments me on how beautiful I look. I know it is because I am glowing—remembering the love of my home teacher, my visiting teacher, and my husband each time I put it on.

I’ll never forget the day I met Diego. I was serving my mission in Chile when he approached my companion and me. He was so excited to see us because he wanted to learn about the gospel and knew he needed to be baptized. Diego amazed me because he was so pure—he didn’t want to do one worldly thing. He introduced us to his mother, and we set up an appointment to teach them at his grandmother’s house.
No sooner had we arrived to teach them than Diego’s grandmother came into the room in a panic. “The goats are missing!” she cried.
“Can you help me search for them?” Diego asked my companion and me, so we did.
The area was covered in rolling hills, which were rockier than I had thought. Diego explained that he was worried because the goats could hurt themselves on the treacherous terrain or be stolen by thieves. We had searched for a while when Diego finally yelled, “I see them!”
I turned my head and could not see anything. I asked, “Diego, where are they?”
He replied, “They are on top of that hill.”
As I tried to focus my eyes, I could see dots moving around on the hilltop. I couldn’t believe Diego had spotted the flock of goats from that far away. He told us to wait at the bottom while he went up to get them.
I then witnessed something I had never seen before. As Diego climbed the steep hill, he began a distinct combination of clapping and yelling. The goats, recognizing the signal, perked up. Within five minutes, they grouped together and came galloping down the hill.
“This is too easy!” I thought.
I was right. As we turned to herd the flock back home, I heard the distant cry of another goat. We looked back and saw one little goat bleating on top of the hill. Realizing it was alone, it started trotting toward us. I was feeling relieved to see that this goat was coming toward us when Diego began to race up the hill.
“What are you doing?” I called.
“It’s a baby goat,” he replied. “It could easily fall and get injured.”
My companion and I quickly followed him.
As Diego bent to pick up the baby goat, it dodged and ran away. For a long time the three of us tried to catch the goat, but it refused to come. I was getting frustrated. Couldn’t the goat see that we were trying to help?
At last Diego’s herding dog, Bo Bo, came out of nowhere and pinned the goat to the ground. Diego picked up the goat, unharmed, and handed it to me. He asked me to carry it home while he attended to the rest of the flock.
As I lifted the little goat onto my shoulders, I felt its heart racing. I realized how frightened it must have been. Exhausted, the goat now laid limp, its head dangling over my shoulder and resting on my arm. It was as if the goat knew we were taking it home, because it did not fight anymore.
When I placed the baby goat back in the pen, safe with its family, it seemed happy and relieved. My heart filled with gladness. I was so grateful I’d played a part in rescuing it.
In that moment, a scripture came to life in my mind: “What man of you, having an hundred sheep, if he lose one of them, doth not leave the ninety and nine in the wilderness, and go after that which is lost, until he find it?
“And when he hath found it, he layeth it on his shoulders, rejoicing. …
“… Likewise joy shall be in heaven over one sinner that repenteth” (Luke 15:4–5, 7).
Diego taught me something about the Savior that day. Diego loved each member of his flock individually. He could see the dangers they faced and wanted to save each one. How much more the Savior loves each of us.
The little goat taught me a lot too. How often had I run away from the Savior’s help? How many lost souls were shutting Him out of their lives because they were afraid?
As a missionary, I was privileged to serve others the way the Savior would if He were here. At first I had agreed to help Diego because I cared about him, but as I carried that goat, I came to feel I cared for it too. How much more I loved the Savior and wanted to seek for His children. As I did, love grew in my heart for the Chilean people. I could not always carry them safely on my shoulders, but I could teach them and the Holy Ghost could guide them to the One who can. I know I’ll feel joy seeing them safely at home with their eternal families someday.

Here is an experience that Sister Krull had.
Jonny, whose name has been changed for privacy purposes, was a local area Facebook referral.
We introduced ourselves and explained our purpose as missionaries. Over a few months we had the opportunity to share with him Jesus Christ’s restored gospel.
We helped to answer all his questions. He grew up with a Christian background but, like many others, noticed that not all we said was in the Bible; he eagerly accepted a copy of the Book of Mormon.
Jonny had a desire to learn more about God and to become a better version of himself. He agreed to be baptised at the beginning of 2021. His baptism, due to the COVID-19 pandemic, was limited in the number of people that could attend. Now, all of this sounds like a typical missionary story, but not so.
For some months, all we knew was the sound of Jonny’s voice over the phone call. We had never met him in person until the day of his baptism. Finally, we could put a face to the name we had been teaching.
I mention this because many people think that you can only feel the Spirit when you are face-to-face. That couldn’t be further from the truth. Once you are testifying of the Saviour Jesus Christ, the Spirit is there.
The fact that Jonny was baptised showed us that we weren’t the only ones to feel the presence of the Holy Ghost. All of this happened because of a Facebook advertisement that invited him to understand and to seek God.
This experience is a witness of how missionary work has continued to move forward despite the crazy times we are in.

My own home has long been my favorite holy place. Each time I visit the temple I feel I bring home some of the light that is there. I remember one morning, suddenly realizing, as I prayed, that I felt like I was in the temple. I always kneel in the same place, near a window with a lovely view of the rising sun and the mountains.

Once I had a Jewish friend visit, with whom I had prayed. She said to me, "I want to see the place where you pray." I said, "Come with me." I showed her where I knelt each day and she stepped into it, like it was a circle of light and said, "I can feel that this is the place." It is not the only place in our home that feels holy. The place where my husband gave patriarchal blessings and the place where we knelt together for family prayer are still holy to me.

A priesthood leader was impressed by the “gospel glow” he saw in a sister he was interviewing. When he asked her what the secret of her success was, with moist eyes she replied simply, “Repentance.”
She explained she had married young—and pregnant. Sorrow for her sin was followed by confession to the Lord and to priesthood authorities and commitment to be obedient to the Lord’s commandments.
“It was hard, and I certainly wouldn’t recommend it to anyone,” she explained. “But Heavenly Father blessed us to make something good out of something bad. The more we struggled to be faithful, the stronger Heavenly Father made us. And the stronger Heavenly Father made us, the easier it was to be faithful.” This woman, her husband, and their baby eventually entered the temple and were sealed as an eternal family.
This sister and her husband found forgiveness and peace in the Healer’s touch. “Now it just amazes me to think of how happy we are as a family,” she said. “The Lord could have given up on us. But he accepted our repentance, and … helped us make something wonderful out of our lives” (quoted in Joseph Walker, “Singing the Song of Redeeming Love,” Ensign, March 1993, 60).

Lacey was busy making things for her miniature dollhouse. She’d already made button plates, a yogurt-lid table, and a popcorn bowl out of a bottle cap and Styrofoam. She was just starting on the paper-clip hangers when her little brother, Zach, burst through the door with a bath towel around his neck like a cape.
“Zach!” Lacey cried as he bumped into her desk, sending the button plates flying.
“I’m not Zach. I’m Awesome Boy!” Zach shouted. He stomped around her room and knocked into the walls, pretending to fly. “And you’re a giant mutant monster that’s attacking the city!”
“I am not a mutant monster!” Lacey shouted back. As she looked at the buttons scattered all over the floor, she felt a hot, angry feeling rising in her stomach. She felt like yelling.
Instead she stomped out of the room. “Mom!” she called. “Zach’s bugging me again!”
Mom was on the phone in the kitchen and held up her hand. “One minute,” she mouthed. Mom walked into the other room to finish her phone call.
Lacey sighed and flopped into a kitchen chair. Why is Zach so annoying? Lacey fumed. She was ten, and Zach was only seven. He thought it was funny to see her mad. Worse, it seemed like Zach looked for ways to bother her. He grabbed her dolls, copied everything she said in a silly voice, and searched through her drawers. Each thing made her madder and madder. She didn’t like feeling that way.
Lacey looked down at the paper-clip hanger she was still holding. Kylee, Lacey’s older sister, had showed her how to make miniature things. Kylee was away at college now, and Lacey missed her. Why couldn’t Kylee still be around instead of Zach?
Lacey thought back to a time just before Kylee had left for school. They were having fun on the front porch eating ice cream and talking, but Lacey couldn’t stop scratching a mosquito bite on her arm. It itched so much!
“Don’t scratch it,” Kylee warned. “The more you scratch it, the worse it gets.”
“But I have to scratch it!” Lacey complained. “It itches too much. It’s driving me crazy!”
“You don’t have to scratch it,” Kylee said. She licked her ice cream cone and smiled. “You may not be able to control whether or not you have a mosquito bite, but you can control how much you scratch it.”
Lacey looked down at her arm where the mosquito bite had been, and suddenly she understood something. She could control her own actions. She couldn’t stop Zach from doing what he wanted, but she could choose not to be bothered by it anymore! And Heavenly Father could help her.
Heavenly Father, she prayed silently, please help me not to get mad when Zach teases me. Please help me to just love him.
As she prayed, she felt the hot anger in her stomach start to go away. A warm feeling filled its place.
Can you find another story about getting along with siblings?
“Never mind,” she mouthed to Mom as she walked back to find Zach. Maybe her miniature dollhouse would make the perfect city to defend from a giant mutant monster. And maybe Awesome Boy could use a superhero friend—Awesome Girl!

To demonstrate how this might look I want to give a simple example of something I did to help improve my life. A few months ago, I felt like I could do a better job connecting with my wife and kids. I realized that after I came home from work that my phone was distracting me from being completely focused on them. This is something I wanted to change. So, I set a reminder on my phone so that I would remember to leave my phone in my bedroom. Once I separated myself from my phone, I was able to focus completely on being with my wife and kids. This simple change has blessed my life, knowing that I am now able to get to know my wife and kids better and be more present in their lives.

As I was reading the April New Era, the Missionary Focus “A Question of Service” caught my eye. My father wanted me to finish my work toward dental school rather than serve a mission. Nevertheless, I too felt the promptings of the Holy Ghost, and I chose to fulfill a mission.
I am grateful for having made that decision, because my father passed away recently when I had been in the mission field for 16 months. During those 16 months we grew closer together, and he gained a knowledge of the restoration of the gospel through my letters. I am grateful for my knowledge of the plan of salvation and await anxiously my opportunity to do his work in the temple. Thanks for the wonderful articles. They make rainy preparation days in Virginia a joy!
Elder Gordon WallinVirginia Roanoke Mission

Two missionary couples recently shouldered much of the responsibility for sending and receiving the microfilm files. Manfred Hechtle, a native of Mannheim, Germany, and his wife, Karin, born in Königsberg, German East Prussia, moved to the United States more than 40 years ago. They returned to Germany as missionaries because “we knew it would be wonderfully rewarding to help people all over Europe discover more about their family history,” explains Sister Hechtle.
The Hechtles also spent quite a bit of their mission time traveling to various family history centers to offer assistance. “When they asked us, we taught the family history center directors and their staffs how to use Church computer programs,” says Elder Hechtle. “These visits also gave us a chance to repair and maintain the microfilm and microfiche equipment.”
The couple also helped present family history seminars.” We piled our equipment into a station wagon and headed out,” says Elder Hechtle. “We then taught members and others interested in learning about the Church’s family history programs.”

“Step on red, and you love Tami Cobb,” Travis whispered as we filed down the hall behind our teacher, headed for the cafeteria. Twenty-five pairs of shoes, including my own sandals, zigged, zagged, and leaped to miss the red-tiled squares.
Mrs. Simon stopped and faced us. “Where’s my nice straight line?” she asked, not smiling.
We straightened up. All but Tami, whose head hung down. Her stringy red hair looked as if she hadn’t washed it for weeks. No doubt she had that ugly, mean look on her freckled face—the one it always had. I tucked my own red hair behind my ears, glad it wasn’t as bright as Tami’s—and my freckles not quite as dark. Mrs. Simon turned back around, and we continued to the cafeteria. Shoes still skipped over red tiles, but more quietly this time.
“You’re Tami Cobb’s twin sister,” Zachary said to me as we ate our lunches.
Tami looked up at me as she nibbled on the corner of her sandwich. Her dark eyes looked afraid—and hopeful.
“Am not!” I protested.
Tami looked back down at her crumpled brown lunch bag. I felt bad, but it wasn’t my fault. Maybe if she washed her hair once in a while, and stuck up for herself instead of making ugly faces all the time, people wouldn’t pick on her so much!
At recess a bunch of us played tetherball. Tami stood alone by the fence, watching. I didn’t dare ask her to join us, or Zachary would call me “Tami Cobb’s sister” again, for sure. Besides, no one would touch the ball after Tami touched it. Everything Tami touched was automatically considered to have cooties. “Touch Tami’s paper, and you’ll get cooties,” someone always whispered when we passed our papers to the front of the class to be graded.
That night the missionaries came to dinner. It was nice outside, so Dad barbecued hamburgers and hot dogs on the back porch.
“Becca, I think you know one of the investigators we’re baptizing this Saturday,” Elder Ryan said, bouncing my little brothers on his knees while we waited. “She says she’s in your class at school.”
“Who?” I asked, surprised and excited. Maybe it was Brittany. She was so pretty, and everyone liked her. Or maybe Heidi. Yes, I hoped it was Heidi. We always got the giggles together during music class when Mrs. Bradley’s voice quavered on the high notes. Then there was Alix and Kira and Emily. “Who is it?” I begged, bouncing on the edge of my lawn chair.
“Tami Cobb. We’re baptizing her whole family.”
“That’s great!” Mom said. “Isn’t that great, Becca? You’ve always wanted to have a friend at school who’s a member of the Church.”
“Yeah, great,” I mumbled. I knew that I should be happy, but I wasn’t.
The next day at school, I caught Tami watching me. Every time I glanced in her direction, she was looking at me. I wanted to say something to her, but I didn’t dare. Anyone who talked to her was teased all day long.
That night the phone rang. My dad answered, then covered the receiver with his hand. “Becca, it’s the missionaries. They want to know if you’ll sing a Primary song at Tami Cobb’s baptism on Saturday. Tami requested you.”
I didn’t know what to say. Tami knew I liked to sing, because I always volunteered to lead the class in “America the Beautiful” each morning. And just last week I sang a solo in music class for extra credit. Tami had me trapped. There was no good reason why I shouldn’t sing at her baptism—except one.
I looked at Mom. She was smiling and nodding her head. “I’ll play for you,” she volunteered.
I was doubly trapped. “Oh, all right,” I agreed reluctantly. At least no one else from school would be there to see.
At the baptism on Saturday, Elder Ryan spoke about the baptismal covenant as explained in the Book of Mormon. “When you are baptized, you promise Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ that you will bear one another’s burdens,” he explained, “and stand as a witness of God at all times, even until death.”
I remembered my dad reading those words* at my own baptism last year, but they didn’t bother me then.
“We are all children of the same Heavenly Father,” Elder Ryan continued. “That’s why we call each other ‘brother’ and ‘sister.’ When we are baptized, we also take upon us the name of Jesus Christ, which makes us brothers and sisters in the gospel, as well.”
As I sang my song, I sneaked a peek at Tami. She smiled at me. She was pretty when she smiled! It made me all warm inside, just looking at her.
I knew what I had to do.
At school Monday morning, Mrs. Simon picked us up from the gym as usual, and we began our single-file trek to our classroom to start the day. Travis whispered his usual line about Tami, and everyone began hopping over the red tiles. Except me. “Knock it off, you guys,” I said. “It isn’t funny.”
Mrs. Simon stopped and faced us. She raised her eyebrows at me and waited.
“Becca is Tami’s sister,” I heard Zachary whisper, followed by several snickers.
My face grew warm. Tami looked back at me, her eyes afraid—and hopeful.
“Would you like to repeat what you said so the whole class can hear you, Zachary?” Mrs. Simon asked.
Zachary shook his head.
My heart thumped as I raised my hand. I was going to keep my baptismal covenant and help bear Tami’s burden, even if it killed me. After all, red hair wasn’t the only thing we had in common. We were sisters.
“Yes, Becca?” Mrs. Simon said.
I swallowed hard. “Zachary said that I’m Tami Cobb’s sister.” I smiled at Tami. “And it’s true.”

Crocodiles, sharks, and sea snakes are strange things to mention as memories from childhood. But when Domingos Liao was growing up in Darwin, Australia, they were an everyday part of his life.
Domingos and his friends would ride their bikes to the mouth of Rapid Creek, where fresh water and sea water mix. They would wade across, dodging jellyfish adrift in the current, watching for sharks that wandered in from the sea, crocodiles buried in the mud, poisonous sea snakes, and stonefish with their venomous spikes. Despite the perils, they crossed the river again and again, lured by what they knew was on the other side.
“It was a land of promise,” Domingos remembers. “We could catch buckets of fish. The beaches were untouched and clean. There were green fields where nobody had been before.”
Today a bridge crosses the river. The open spaces have become a park, crisscrossed with jogging paths and frequented by university students. Still, Domingos likes to visit the river, to remember and to think.

Such was the case in my adult life. After I married my high school sweetheart, we had three beautiful children and were enjoying life together as we had planned and hoped. But then my wife died in a tragic accident. I grieved and despaired for nearly two years before my parents and my wife’s parents encouraged me to consider remarrying—both for me and for my children’s benefit.
After fasting and taking the matter to our Father in Heaven in earnest prayer, I felt it was right for me to remarry.
After a person decides to remarry, it may take some time to find a spouse. In my case I wrote to several friends and relatives who understood my circumstances and told them of my desire to remarry. I asked them if they knew of anyone who would be willing to consider becoming a mother to three children and a wife to a Church district president and banker in South America with many demands on his time. After receiving six recommendations, I took a vacation to the United States and ultimately felt prompted to date and eventually propose marriage to my beloved Helen.
Helen brought a two-year-old daughter into our union, and I brought my sons, ages three and six, and my nine-year-old daughter. In time, we had three daughters together, which gave us a blended family of seven children.
Initially, what made our union possible and successful was that we both received answers from our Father in Heaven reassuring us that He approved of our decision to marry. Without that firm base, marriage after what proved to be a short courtship would have been unwise. But I didn’t expect Heavenly Father to do my work for me. Before taking the matter to Him in prayer, I inquired about Helen’s family background, traditions, testimony, and commitment to the Lord. She also learned enough about me so that she felt we would be compatible.
As we courted, each of us quickly saw in the other three very important characteristics necessary to make a marriage and a blended family successful:
Character. Does the person you are considering marrying hold a temple recommend? Is he or she living a life worthy of the Spirit? Has he or she led a life of service in the kingdom of God?
Capability. Can your potential husband support a family? Is your potential wife capable and willing to help you rear your children? Do you both have the determination to make your blended family successful and to rely upon Heavenly Father in doing so?
Capacity. Do you each have necessary spiritual reserves—generated through faith, prayer, service, and sacrifice—that you can call upon when faced with the challenges of uniting a blended family?

It all started when Brother Noble visited the meetinghouse library and saw that there were nearly 70 Church films available for viewing. He thought that it would be nice to show a film on television once a month. “I figured that with 70 films, we could be on the air for four or five years.”

“I knew people liked Mr. Kreuger’s Christmas, and I thought they might like these other films,” said Brother Noble. “I phoned the television cable company and was invited for an interview. The manager said we couldn’t just show a film. We had to have some local content. He suggested an hour show where we show a half-hour film and discuss it afterward with two or three guests. We set the formula for the show based on his suggestion.”

Before the first episode of the show could go on the air, a crew had to be assembled. The studio personnel would train the people involved to run the cameras and sound equipment and be the floor director. Brother Noble thought of using the young men of the ward. He asked the teachers quorum to help. His aim was to have a trained, established group who would stay with it for several years.

Were there any problems using such an inexperienced young crew? Brother Noble said, “There was some opposition to my using kids. But we stuck with it. They are just the right age to learn.”

It takes a four-man crew to get a show on the air. So far six have worked on the program, Allen Oram, Mike Noble, Martin Kyle, Bill Graham, Doren Quinton, and Chris Arnold. Not only are friends impressed when they beg off from other after-school activities because they “have to go film a television show,” but parents too have been impressed by what their sons have done. Indeed, most of the boys’ families and other ward members tune in to watch the show. But the crew doesn’t always sit back and enjoy the program.

“When we watch the show on Tuesday nights,” said Doren, “we’re critical of how we did.”

Allen quickly added, “We’re getting better all the time.”

Things have not always gone smoothly as the young men were learning how to run the equipment and anticipate the requests of the director. Some of the first tapings were plagued by pictures with no sound and potentially embarrassing zoom shots.

The group learned quickly that they had to do it right the first time. “There are no retakes,” said show host, Brother Noble. “If you stutter or clam up, it’s right there on tape, no second chances. It doesn’t bother me to talk to different people, but once you get under those lights, it shakes you a bit.”

Chris remembers learning about how to produce the show. “I was really surprised at first. The first time was quite rough, but we learned. Now when I watch television, I know what the cameras are doing and when they mess up.”

Martin was also involved in that first program. “Everyone decided on what area they wanted to work, sound or camera. I thought the whole thing was a great idea. I had always wondered how they actually did television productions, and here we were doing it too.”

Martin chose to do the sound mixing. His interest has been stimulated, and he finds that knowing a little has added to his appreciation of professional sound mixers. “I went to a concert, and I was really interested in the complicated sound mixing. It was amazing because I knew just how good it was.”

At first, the LDS Hour seemed to be a service just for Church members. But Brother Noble and the boys found out that the show was being watched by an audience they hadn’t quite expected. They found that members who have not been attending church for years are tuning in.

“They don’t want to commit themselves to attend church meetings, but they want some connection. One lady who watches our show was baptized 33 years ago,” said Brother Noble. “Her home teachers and visiting teachers have never been successful in encouraging her to attend the ward. But she watches the program and calls her friends to watch it.”

The group really didn’t know how well the program was being received until one day the LDS Hour had to be cancelled because of a scheduling conflict with another program the cable station was airing. That was when the telephone started ringing. Viewers wanted to know what had happened to “their” program. The following month the show was back in its scheduled spot, and both the cable station and the local wards were glad to know they had a program that was missed when it didn’t make it on the air.

The young men have caught on that they are involved in something more than just publicity for the Church. They recognize it as a service project. “Yeah, but it’s fun,” is the quick response. It has involved the community because the subjects of the films and the discussions are of general interest.

Bill explains, “It’s not really a preachy show. It’s about good things that society wants. It’s about human relations. It’s something we can all share.”

Bill also tells about one man that was touched directly from the program. “I know a lot of people call their friends and tell them about the show. One man saw the show and called the missionaries and wanted to know more about the Church. It’s a missionary tool. We aren’t directly teaching people, but we’re helping. I like being a part of that.”

The crew has arrived at the studio ready for another taping. With an air of knowing exactly what needs to be done, they quickly arrange the furniture on the set. Chris and Allen pull cables out of the way of their cameras. Martin clips the tiny microphones to their guests’ lapels. Mike is seated at the switching board, giving instructions over his headset.

Suddenly someone yells, “Quiet.” Bill counts down with the fingers of one hand. “Five … four … three … two … we’re on the air.”

Many years ago, while I was serving as a bishop, I had one of my beautiful Laurels come into the bishop’s office to let me know that she and her boyfriend had been nibbling on the cookies—meaning passionate kissing—which had escalated to eating the entire cookie. During the conversation she said, “But Bishop, we are going to get married.”

I said, “If it is true that you are going to get married, you have demonstrated to each other that you aren’t wise enough to avoid nor strong enough to resist the cookies. You have demonstrated to each other that you can’t fully trust each other.”

After marriage, when life has become routine and less glamorous than during courtship, will you be able to fully trust your husband when an attractive woman at work or elsewhere—not a chocolate chip cookie this time but a cute little snickerdoodle—starts flirting with him? What will your level of trust be in him when he has demonstrated to you his weakness with cookies?

And will he be able to fully trust you when life becomes a little humdrum, you are feeling neglected by your husband, and some other man begins to make you feel important and shows interest in you? Not a chocolate chip cookie this time, but a white-chocolate-chunk macadamia cookie?

The best wedding gift you can give your future spouse is the gift of trust, a gift given by covenant at the altar in the temple but created as you mutually demonstrate respect, loyalty, and strength of character with each other during courtship. For a marriage that did not begin with this priceless gift, the trust can be earned, but only through sincere repentance. It will also take some time, as trust is built on demonstrated behavior as evidence of the truly penitent.

Another person whose light greatly influenced my life was Jeff Thomason, my teammate and fellow tight end with the Eagles. The whole team loved Jeff because he earned their respect through hard work. He had a magnetic personality that made all of us want to be around him.

Jeff took his job seriously and was a professional in every way. He could handle mistakes on the field and keep his chin up better than anyone else I knew. A great example of this happened during a play at training camp. Jeff ran “22 Texas Y Out,” which required a ten-yard vertical sprint with a sharp cut to the outside. He ran a nice route, and Donovan McNabb threw a sweet pass. When Jeff reached for the ball, it jammed his left pinky finger, which caused him to drop the ball and also resulted in a boutonniere deformity. That’s when the pinky remains bent down; it’s fairly common among football players.

Andy Reid blew up. He yelled that Jeff had just run the worst route he had ever seen. It was not typical of Andy to do that. Jeff smiled through the pain and even laughed behind his face mask as he held his finger. He knew Andy really liked him, and he didn’t lose confidence over Andy’s outburst.

Jeff’s reaction caused me and the other tight end, Mike Bartrum, to crack up. Even though Andy was on fire, it was a humorous scene. We were exhausted from training camp, and anything funny was made funnier by the sheer physical and mental exhaustion we were experiencing. Jeff’s ability to smile and laugh in times of trial and even pain lifted the spirits of those around him.

My weakness as a player was in blocking. Jeff not only helped me improve my physical technique by showing me how to do it but also always encouraged me to get better. Even in the highly competitive culture of the NFL he took the time and made the effort to help his teammates.

When Michele and I would go out to dinner with Jeff and his wife, Blake, Jeff would ask me to share stories of my mission in Taiwan. He said he loved hearing those stories. We gave them a copy of The Other Side of Heaven, the movie about Elder John H. Groberg’s mission in Tonga, and he loved it. After watching it he said, “I wish I could have played at BYU and gone on a mission to Tonga!”

We gave the Thomasons a leather-bound copy of the Book of Mormon with our testimonies written to them inside the cover. Since we loved them, we wanted to share what meant most to us and what brought us peace and joy.

People will love to hear your stories. Don’t be afraid to reach out and share them. Your stories did not just happen for you; they are meant to be shared. Sharing them is a great way for you to let your light shine for others.

Jeff finished his career and went to work for a national construction company. Two years later, when the Eagles played the Atlanta Falcons in the National Football Conference Championship Game, I broke my foot at the very end of the game, which made it impossible for me to play in the Super Bowl.

Andy called Jeff and signed him out of retirement to play in the world’s biggest football game! The next two weeks were a media circus for Jeff. His story of going from construction worker to the Super Bowl was a big hit. He was on The Today Show, Good Morning America, CBS’s The Early Show, and a 60 Minutes special. He handled it all with class and humility.

The Eagles did not win Super Bowl XXXIX against the New England Patriots, but Jeff played a great game. It marked the end of our football careers together. The game is over, but we will be friends forever.

The light of friendship I felt from Jeff in challenging situations was illuminating—like a car driving at night with the headlights on high beam! I saw how important it was to be around someone who could maintain a positive outlook no matter the situation of the game, if there was a setback, or anything else. I learned it was vital to surround myself with greatness, and I invite you to do the same.

Aioo Suisala just turned 19. He works to earn money for his mission. On Saturdays and during school vacations he works with Letane and Sosaia at nearby plantations with many of the other people from the village. They get to the fields either by walking or riding horses. At the plantations they weed the taro plants, fumigate, pick bananas, and check how the pineapples are ripening.
On Sundays Aioo, who is assistant ward clerk, Sosaia, and Letane attend Church meetings and take care of their responsibilities in the ward. Their chapel is less than ten years old, and the local Saints helped to build it. Aioo and Sosaia both remember working on it.
Aioo stands in stake conference in Pesega as he is sustained to be ordained to the Melchizedek Priesthood. He has been looking forward to and preparing for this day for a long time because it means that he is almost ready to go on his mission.