Gospel Story Finder

Despite his health issues, John remains positive and is actively involved in his Lutheran Homes community, which provides church services and classes overseen by a full-time pastor. Soon after moving into the facility, John learned that the pastor would be away for a while and suggested that in his absence, the classes could be led by other residents — John was happy to lead one himself, if needed. The pastor took him up on his offer and John has since taught dozens of classes, which include a weekly broadcast (as his health permits) over an internal TV channel aired to hundreds of residents in the facility and its surrounding village.
Even as he grapples with physical limitations, John spends numerous hours a week preparing his lessons, sensitively referencing videos and other learning material from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Initially, the pastor reviewed each lesson before it was presented, but he now has no concerns about John’s teachings. In fact, John’s messages have seen several copies of the Book of Mormon placed with residents, many of whom have asked him to cover specific topics. He speaks fondly of one such request, which resulted in a 5-week course of instruction on grace.

Sure I had a testimony. Or did I? I prayed, read the scriptures (most days), and went to church, but did I really have a personal testimony of Jesus Christ and the Book of Mormon? These thoughts filled my mind when a stake leader asked me to join some of the other stake youth in a special project.
Project? What kind of project?
I quickly learned that each participant would need to read the Book of Mormon for a month, and then we would all tell about our experiences. It didn’t sound too bad until I learned we would be filmed so the stake leaders could share a video of our testimonies with the youth in each ward.
Every ward in the stake would see this?
I decided being videotaped would be way better than having to talk in front of huge groups of people in each ward. So I agreed. Each day, I curled up cozily to read at least one chapter in the Book of Mormon. As the days whizzed by, I realized I loved this book. The Book of Mormon came alive with new depth and vitality. Near the end of the project, I read Moroni 10:3–5. I wanted to know the truth, and I had faith to receive it.
That night when all was quiet, I knelt to ask God to know if the Book of Mormon is true. As I prayed, I felt encircled by a peaceful warmth. I knew without a doubt that the Book of Mormon is the word of God. This book became as true and as real as the stars I see glistening in the sky. What a powerful testimony this experience became in my life!
The time arrived for the leaders and invited youth to meet together. We came fasting to help bring the Spirit into our meeting. When it was my turn, I rose to speak. My testimony of the Book of Mormon had not come in a sudden burst of light or some other dramatic display. It had arrived more simply. The same peace and warmth I had felt when I prayed about the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon came over me again. I stood and bore testimony of the sacred pages I had read; I knew the Book of Mormon is true.

I have pleasant memories associated with the fall season of the year and the time of the harvest. After eight years of living in sunny California, we moved to New York, where I was again reminded of the more dramatic seasonal changes of a cooler climate.

One morning as I was walking down the street on the way to the train station, kicking through the leaves that had fallen on the walk overnight, I suddenly had the urge, the strongest urge, to bite into a beautiful crisp, red apple. The association of the rustle of the leaves and that taste of an apple just seemed to go together. I could hardly wait to arrive in the city and find a fruit stand to buy one. I was not disappointed; the falling leaves and a big, red apple were just as pleasant to enjoy as I remembered from my boyhood.

While attending a sacrament meeting during the summer months, I was fortunate to hear messages from three students who were home from school for the summer. One of the talks especially interested me.
She had been working during the summer recess in a restaurant frequented by truck drivers. One driver who had a regular run stopped at the restaurant on the same day each week to eat. The regularity of the stop created an opportunity for short visits. He asked the young lady where she lived. She reported that she was home for the summer to earn money to return to school in the fall. His next question was, “Where do you attend school?” Her answer with pride: “BYU–Idaho.” He wanted to know more about the school, which led to a gospel discussion. Her first approach was to teach him about the Word of Wisdom. She was successful. She convinced him to give up smoking.
Then her shift was changed, and she no longer had the opportunity to serve him, so she wrote him a note and enclosed a Church missionary tract about the plan of salvation. After several days she received a note from the driver. It simply stated, “You’ve created a monster.” Thanks to this young woman, he had found information which caused him to think about the changes he must make in his life. I do not know the full outcome of this little encounter between a waitress and a truck driver, but clearly his life was affected.
She then went on to explain how easy it is to let others know about the beauties of the gospel. Opportunities are there every day in our normal pursuits of life to open our mouths to let people know of the gospel truths that will bless them here and now and into the eternities to come.

I was born into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, baptized by my father at eight years old, and fully active in the Church throughout my youth. When I completed my mission, my next goal in life was to find a choice daughter of God whom I could marry in the temple.
But I began seeking unwholesome entertainment and giving in to temptations. I started dating outside of the Church. Gradually I began compromising my personal standards, and I became inactive in the Church. Eventually I married someone outside the Church, and our marriage later ended in divorce.
I continued to give in to temptation. Deep down, I still had a testimony and a longing to be married to someone in the temple, but I felt unworthy of those blessings. I gave up hope that I would ever marry in the temple or have children, so I buried my feelings of guilt and coped with my feelings of worthlessness by seeking worldly happiness.
One night during my thirties, I was racked with the guilt of all my moral transgressions. I fell to my knees and cried unto the Lord with godly sorrow for the sins I had committed. I promised to live the law of chastity and changed my behavior.
But that was not my only struggle. I continued to spend the next seven years wallowing in the depths of drug addiction.
I felt utterly alone and trapped in my chemical dependency. Feeling extremely sick in my head, heart, and body, I felt on the verge of death many times. I had given up all hope that I would ever be free from the chains of addiction and depression that weighed me down.
One day I was at a crossroads; I had to decide whether or not I was going to fall further into this life of addiction and try to survive living on the streets. But I knew that decision would surely lead to my death. I knew that if I didn’t choose that option, then I needed to turn my life around and return to Jesus Christ.
I found myself sitting in my truck, absolutely consumed with a debilitating fear. With my phone in my hand, I stared at my dad’s contact information. I was so soul-sick and heavy of heart that I lacked the energy to even vocalize words. I felt that if I made the call and asked for help then I would be choosing life and that if I didn’t make the call I would surely be choosing death and damnation.
We Can All Be Cleansed
“We are all sinners who can be cleansed by repentance.”
President Dallin H. Oaks, “Cleansed by Repentance,” Liahona, May 2019, 92.
It took me over an hour to muster up enough courage to finally call my dad and ask if I could come over. When I got there, my parents and I had a lengthy discussion after which my dad offered to give me a priesthood blessing.
I accepted the offer and sat down, feeling truly humble and sincerely penitent. I exercised my faith in the power of God and His priesthood. I truly sought my Heavenly Father’s help. During the blessing, my thoughts turned to Him, pleading that He would bless me with strength and power as I tried to overcome this addiction. “Please, I don’t want to live like this anymore,” I prayed silently. “Please help me climb out of this hole that I’m in. Please help me because I can’t do it on my own.”
My dad’s hands were trembling as he spoke with power and conviction while administering the priesthood blessing. He said that Satan was working hard on me to keep me from my great potential. I felt that my decisions were also keeping me from blessing and uplifting others who could benefit from me setting a righteous example and influence. The blessing also repeatedly reminded me that I have the opportunity to overcome my addictions.
I knew there is no sin I’ve committed that I cannot come back from. As President Boyd K. Packer (1924–2015) taught:
“I know of no sins connected with the moral standard for which we cannot be forgiven. … The formula is stated in forty words:
“‘Behold, he who has repented of his sins, the same is forgiven, and I, the Lord, remember them no more.
By this ye may know if a man repenteth of his sins—behold, he will confess them and forsake them’ Doctrine and Covenants 58:42–43].”1
In the blessing my dad gave me, I was also blessed with power and strength to overcome my afflictions. I know my dad was truly inspired and was speaking with the authority of God.
When the blessing was over, I stood and embraced my father. We held each other, hugging for a long time. My mom joined in by putting her arms around both of us as I sobbed and sobbed into my dad’s shoulder, feeling such an overwhelming abundance of love and gratitude in my heart.
All of my feelings of hopelessness melted away. I began to feel the physical cravings of addiction and the heavy cloud of depression and inadequacy that had plagued me for so long wash away. I instantly felt a newfound gusto and enthusiasm for life and for all the possibilities for joy that I might have if I choose what is right and submit to the will of my Heavenly Father. I wanted to live with the attitude that Jesus Christ exemplified in all things: “Not my will, but thine, be done” (Luke 22:42).
I moved forward on my path toward Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ with renewed determination and strength.
The Prize Is Worth the Price of Repentance
“What does it mean to repent? We begin with a dictionary’s definition that to repent is ‘to turn from sin … to feel sorrow [and] regret.’ To repent from sin is not easy. But the prize is worth the price. Repentance needs to be done one step at a time. Humble prayer will facilitate each essential step.”
President Russell M. Nelson, “Repentance and Conversion,” Liahona, May 2007, 102.
Sometime later, the adversary continued his temptations; someone close to me kept trying to convince me to come over and drink with him. He was pressuring me with the lie that drinking isn’t a big deal as long as you’re not an alcoholic. I felt the inner struggle—on one hand I wanted to have that relationship and common ground with that person, but on the other hand I wanted to show Heavenly Father my love and gratitude by keeping the Word of Wisdom. While I was struggling with these thoughts, my phone dinged and lit up across the room. I went to see what it was—a Facebook notification with a quote from President Thomas S. Monson’s talk “Principles and Promises”:
“The Word of Wisdom … gives specific direction regarding the food we eat, and it prohibits the use of substances which are harmful to our bodies.
“Those who are obedient to the Lord’s commandments and who faithfully observe the Word of Wisdom are promised particular blessings, among which are good health and added physical stamina [see Doctrine and Covenants 89:18–21].”2
It is my testimony that Heavenly Father saw fit to send me that specific message at the exact time I was struggling. While answers may not always come that directly and we should always seek to follow the commandments, I was grateful for that blessing. I knew what my decision needed to be and the course I needed to keep following in my life. I needed to confess and forsake my sins and continue to turn away from all ungodliness. I needed to become sanctified through the power of Jesus Christ and His Atonement. I understood that “this life is the time for [me] to prepare to meet God” (Alma 34:32) and to “prove [myself] herewith, to see if [I] will do all things whatsoever the Lord [my] God shall command [me]” (Abraham 3:25). I understood that this is the time to overcome my physical addictions, while I still have a mortal body. And I understood that I needed to show Heavenly Father a mighty change of heart (see Mosiah 5:2; see also Alma 5:12–14) and “have no more disposition to do evil, but to do good continually” (Mosiah 5:2).
Through repentance (including working with my priesthood leaders), followed by every righteous decision I’ve made since then, I have opened myself to the doors of heaven and allowed Heavenly Father to pour out His blessings upon me.
A few months after my change of heart, my future wife, Malaina, came into my life and our courtship began. I was grateful to now be ready for our future together. Dating Malaina was really like a fairy-tale dream come true! Both of us had been hurt by past relationships, and we found love and understanding in each other. We both wanted with all our hearts to be worthy of a temple marriage. Six months after we started dating, we were sealed in the Seattle Washington Temple.
Heavenly Father blessed me with a loving wife who understands the power of Jesus Christ’s Atonement and what it means to be cleansed through repentance. Malaina loves me for the man I am today and not for the mistakes of my past. Her personal testimony and love of the Savior continually gives me strength and a desire to fulfill the full measure of my creation. She is truly the companion I always dreamed of having, and together we’ve been blessed with two children.
I find it amazing how much my life has turned around for the better in just a few short years. I feel that to have risen out of the hole I was once in to where I am now is truly a miracle. It’s my personal testimony that through sincere repentance and faith in Jesus Christ all things are possible! I am living proof of that.
Our Savior Stands Ready to Cleanse Us
“We must not ‘procrastinate the day of [our] repentance’ until death, Amulek taught (Alma 34:33), because the same spirit that has possessed our body in this life—whether the Lord’s or the devil’s—‘will have power to possess [our] body in that eternal world’ (Alma 34:34). Our Savior has the power and stands ready to cleanse us from evil. Now is the time to seek His help to repent of our wicked or unseemly desires and thoughts to be clean and prepared to stand before God at the Final Judgment.”
President Dallin H. Oaks, “Cleansed by Repentance,” Liahona, May 2019, 94.

Just as Liola served faithfully because of her testimony, others have gained that testimony through obedience. Such was the case for ‘Anau Vuna Hala. ‘Anau was baptized as a young boy but became less active almost immediately. Although his sister was an active member of the Church, ‘Anau had no desire to return to church, and for many years he did not.
As a grown man he married Kinakuia (Kina) Hala, a Latter-day Saint. One day he discovered something that troubled him: his wife had begun paying tithing.
“I was disappointed,” ‘Anau says. “I did not make a lot of money as a schoolteacher. I didn’t want her to pay tithing anymore. We argued about it for several years.”
Kina tried everything to convince her husband that paying tithing was a good idea. “She had the home teachers teach us about the principle of tithing,” ‘Anau says. “I received many lessons about tithing, but I still said no.
“Then one day my wife challenged me to observe the law with her and see what would happen. It was a tough decision for me, but I wanted us to find peace, so I said OK.”
Not long after, ‘Anau began noticing little changes taking place in their lives. “When we paid our tithing first and then our bills, we had very little left over,” he explains. “But then we received blessings. Sometimes we’d receive help unexpectedly from family members overseas or help from elsewhere. We always had enough.”
The blessings weren’t just financial. ‘Anau says, “I became active in the Church. We were happier at home. We decided to adopt a baby, even though we knew the food and other needs would be costly. But we knew that if we were faithful and paid tithing, doing what the Lord required, somehow things would work out. I was even able to get a better job working for the Church school, Liahona High School. And we were sealed in the temple.
“We feel our greatest blessings are the peace and joy we feel in knowing that we can cope with our financial difficulties if we pay our tithing. From the moment I accepted that principle, the Lord has blessed my family. I know it to be true.”

A new animal was coming to live in the zoo, and the other animals were excited. One morning a big truck backed up to an empty cage, and out stepped the new animal.
The other animals stared in amazement. The new animal did not look like any animal that they had ever seen before. He had a long neck and a long tail, and when he opened his mouth, he barked. One by one the other animals turned away from the cage. Because the new animal was so different, they were not sure how to treat him.
The new animal was very lonely. The other animals ignored him, so he had no one to talk to. He was so sad that he could not eat. The zookeeper began to worry. People stopped visiting the zoo because the new animal was sad and the other animals hid in the backs of their cages.
One day the elephant heard the new animal barking to himself. “The new animal does have a good trunk,” he told the giraffe. “It’s not as long as mine but is really quite nice.”
The giraffe stretched her neck to take a closer look. “Look at his strong neck. He can reach as high as I can.”
The lion was looking quietly at the new animal’s mane. “My goodness! He has an excellent mane—almost as thick as mine.”
Just then the zebra trotted by the cage. “His coat has a very nice pattern,” she said.
“And his horns are curved just right,” the mountain goat said, “just like mine.”
When the monkey came swinging from the trees, he said, “Look at that handsome tail. I wonder if the new animal would like to play tag?”
Finally the duck waddled by the cage.
“What fine feet you have. You probably can swim faster than I can,” she said.
The new animal stopped crying and thanked the duck for the compliment. Soon all the animals were talking together. They felt much happier. Even though the new animal looked different, the other animals had all found something about the new animal that they liked.

I remember some years ago getting a letter from a young woman who was awaiting the return of her missionary fiancé in order that they could be married. She outlined in her letter all the things she was doing to prepare herself worthily for that glorious experience. She went to the temple for her endowments before he returned from his mission, and she had the privilege of witnessing some sealings of children to their parents. What a beautiful thing she said it was. She had a great desire that her marriage would be in one of the sacred temples of our God.

Several years ago as I was preparing for further graduate studies, I chose to audit a math class. Given that I was still taking other classes and finishing my thesis, I thought this would be a great opportunity to learn, without the pressures of worrying about a grade. I did great for the first few weeks, but as time became scarcer, I focused on those things for which I would be graded on, and gave less attention and attendance to the math class. Without the risk of a grade and a commitment to do the homework, I soon fell behind and quickly found that I was so far behind it did not justify attending the class.
As with education, life is not a spectator sport to be watched as we sit on the sidelines. It requires that we are active participants and exposed to the great joys and disappointments that come throughout life. In every activity of life, we will at times fall short and make mistakes, but enduring the trial makes the joy of success that much sweeter.

Many years ago, on my first visit to the fabled village of Sauniatu in Samoa, so loved by President David O. McKay, my wife and I met with a large gathering of small children—nearly 200 in number. At the conclusion of our messages to these shy yet beautiful youngsters, I suggested to the native Samoan teacher that we go forward with the closing exercises. As he announced the final hymn, I suddenly felt compelled to greet personally each of these children. My watch revealed that the time was too short for such a privilege, for we were scheduled on a flight out of the country, so I discounted the impression. Before the benediction was to be spoken, I again felt that I should shake the hand of each child. I made the desire known to the instructor, who displayed a broad and beautiful Samoan smile. In Samoan, he announced this to the children. They beamed their approval.

The instructor then revealed to me the reason for his and their joy. He said, “When we learned that a member of the Council of the Twelve was to visit us here in Samoa, so far away from Church headquarters, I told the children if they would earnestly and sincerely pray and exert faith like the Bible accounts of old, that the Apostle would visit our tiny village at Sauniatu and through their faith he would be impressed to greet each child with a personal handclasp.” Tears could not be restrained as the precious boys and girls walked shyly by and whispered softly to us the sweet Samoan greeting “talofa lava.” A profound expression of faith had been evidenced.

Ninth President of the Church
David O. McKay’s witness of the truthfulness of the gospel came during his mission to Scotland. He attended a priesthood meeting where “everybody felt the rich outpouring of the spirit of the Lord.” He later recalled: “Never before had I experienced such an emotion. It was a manifestation for which as a doubting youth I had secretly prayed most earnestly on hillside and in meadow. It was an assurance to me that sincere prayer is answered ‘sometime, somewhere.’” It was during this same conference that Elder McKay’s mission president told him, “If you will keep the faith you will yet sit in the leading [councils] of the Church” (“Two Significant Statements,” Deseret News, 27 October 1934, 8).

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

Recently Sister Nelson and I were in Denmark during the commemoration of the 150th anniversary of the Church in Scandinavia. Between meetings, we took a few hours to search for villages where two of my father’s grandparents were born. They were among the early converts to the Church in Denmark.
Thanks to a good driver and a superb map, we found each town on our list and obtained treasured information. During the entire journey, my hands were riveted to that valuable map so essential to achieve our goals.
In contrast, many people travel through life without good guidance, lacking knowledge of a desired destination or how to get there. But if rapt attention is paid to a road map for a day’s journey, isn’t it also wise to pay attention to authoritative guidance on our journey through life?
The ultimate objective in our mortal journey has been revealed by our Creator, who said, “If you keep my commandments and endure to the end you shall have eternal life, which gift is the greatest of all the gifts of God” (D&C 14:7).
His gift of eternal life is subject to conditions established by Him (see D&C 130:21). Those conditions constitute a plan, or a spiritual road map. And when trouble comes, guidance is needed most. In our journey in Denmark, we met an unexpected detour that led us astray. In order to get back on course, we stopped the car. We studied the map with great care. Then we made the necessary course correction.
What if you are lost and have no map? Suppose you are alone. You do not know where you are. What can you do? You call for help. You call home. Call the Church. Pray. When connected with your help line, you learn that you need to make a climb here or a turn there to get back on course. Or you may have to go back to the beginning in order to be certain that you can get where you want to go.
We turn to Him who knows us best—our Creator. He allowed us to come to earth with freedom to choose our own course. In His great love, He did not leave us alone. He provided a guide—a spiritual road map—to help us achieve success in our journey. We call that guide the standard works, so named because they—the Holy Bible, the Book of Mormon, the Doctrine and Covenants, and the Pearl of Great Price—constitute the standard by which we should live. They serve as a standard of reference, as are standards of time, weights, and measures that are kept in national bureaus of standards.
To reach our objective of eternal life, we need to follow teachings in the standard works and other revelations received from prophets of God (see D&C 1:38). Our loving Lord foresaw our need for guidance: “For strait is the gate,” He said, “and narrow the way that leadeth unto the exaltation and continuation of the lives, and few there be that find it” (D&C 132:22).
Few find the way because they ignore the divine road map provided by the Lord. An even more serious mistake is to ignore the Maker of the map. God declared in the first of His Ten Commandments, “Thou shalt have no other gods before me” (Ex. 20:3). Yet carnal man tends to let his loyalty drift toward idols.
We marvel at computers and the Internet that enable transmission of data with remarkable speed. We are truly grateful for these electronic servants. But if we let them take over our time, pervert our potential, or poison our minds with pornography, they cease being servants and become instead false gods.
False gods can only lead to dead ends. We need to follow divine direction. The Lord said, “Look unto me in every thought; doubt not, fear not” (D&C 6:36). And the Psalmist wrote, “Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path” (Ps. 119:105).
Following such counsel demands not only conviction but conversion and often repentance. That would please the Lord, who said, “Repent, and turn yourselves from your idols; and turn … from all your abominations” (Ezek. 14:6).
In your journey through life, you meet many obstacles and make some mistakes. Scriptural guidance helps you recognize error and make the necessary correction. You stop going in the wrong direction. You carefully study the scriptural road map. Then you proceed with repentance and restitution required to get on the “strait and narrow path which leads to eternal life” (2 Ne. 31:18).
Our busy lives force us to focus on things we do from day to day. But the development of character comes only as we focus on who we really are. To establish and accomplish those greater goals, we do need heavenly help.
How can we truly live, not “by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God”? (Matt. 4:4).
We begin with a determination to “liken all scriptures unto us, … for our profit and learning” (1 Ne. 19:23). If we “press forward, feasting upon the word of Christ, and endure to the end, … [we] shall have eternal life” (2 Ne. 31:20).
To feast means more than to taste. To feast means to savor. We savor the scriptures by studying them in a spirit of delightful discovery and faithful obedience. When we feast upon the words of Christ, they are embedded “in fleshy tables of the heart” (2 Cor. 3:3). They become an integral part of our nature.
As you ponder and pray about doctrinal principles, the Holy Ghost will speak to your mind and your heart (see D&C 8:2). From events portrayed in the scriptures, new insights will come and principles relevant to your situation will distill upon your heart.
You cultivate such revelatory experiences by living according to the light already given you and by searching the scriptures with pure motives. As you do so, your confidence will “wax strong in the presence of God,” and the Holy Ghost will be your constant companion (see D&C 121:45–46).
We all need guidance through life. We obtain it best from the standard works and teachings of the prophets of God. With diligent effort, we can achieve that guidance and thus qualify for all of the blessings that God has in store for His faithful children.

Amy shuffled along the sidewalk. Her hand measured the spaces between the slats of the picket fence that outlined Sister Pedersen’s yard. It’s not fair, she thought. Why do I have to be cooped up inside reading the news to an old blind lady while everyone else is going to the movie with Emily. And how can I ever be Emily’s friend if I can’t go to the movie with her?
Grudgingly Amy unlatched the gate, trudged up the sidewalk to Sister Pedersen’s porch, kicked the newspaper off the steps, then relented and picked it up before rapping on the door.
The door swung open, and there stood eighty-year-old Sister Pedersen.
“It’s me, Amy, Sister Pedersen.”
“Bring the Chronicle, and come in, Amy. Sit down here in this armchair. I believe in business first, pleasure afterward. Shall I pay you a dollar each day?” Sister Pedersen asked, reaching for her purse.
“No, ma’am. Mother said that I shouldn’t take money. In family home evening we agreed to work on serving others, and you’re my assignment.”
Sister Pedersen snapped her purse shut, nodded her head, and said, “You may read now.”
Amy struggled through the newspaper’s front-page articles. She wondered how anyone could consider this a pleasure.
After about forty-five minutes, Sister Pedersen interrupted, “Let’s stop now, Amy. Do you like treasures?”
“I guess so. What kind of treasures?”
“Follow me upstairs, and you’ll see,” Sister Pedersen told her.
“My treasure room,” Sister Pedersen announced, ushering Amy into a small room with several curio cabinets. A pedestal table loaded with beautiful small figurines stood in front of the window.
Amy gasped with delight. Her eyes danced from one lovely object to another. Each cabinet was crammed with collectibles: red goblets, silk flowers in painted vases, tiny dolls in native costumes, crystal paperweights, and bright blue plates. “It’s like an antique shop!” she exclaimed, rushing from one cabinet to another to peer at the treasures.
“You probably wonder why a blind lady keeps so many knickknacks,” Sister Pedersen said. “You see, when I touch the smooth glass objects or the soft silk fabrics, my fingers experience beauty.”
Amy watched the old lady gently rub a delicate bird fashioned of blown glass. She traced the china roses on a pink vase. Then she picked up a crystal ball etched with an intricate geometric pattern.
“Go ahead. Touch them, Amy,” Sister Pedersen coaxed.
Fascinated by the beauty of the bird, Amy timidly picked it up from the table. It was a swan with its neck arched proudly and its wings spread wide, anticipating flight.
“This swan is wonderful!” Amy whispered.
“A glassblower made it for me when I was very young. He fashioned liquid glass into that lovely bird by blowing through a long metal tube. He let me feel all the glass figures in his booth, and he even helped me blow a glass bubble. Since that day, whenever I touch my swan, I know that I, too, have seen beauty. Now, you look around, and don’t be afraid to handle everything. I’ll go fix us some refreshments. I remember how hungry young people are after school.”
Amy held the swan and imagined herself a young blind girl. Hearing peals of laughter outside, she set the swan down and leaned over the table to look out the window. Emily and all her friends were returning from the movie. Amy didn’t feel as bad about missing it as she thought she would. As she turned away from the window, Amy’s hand accidentally bumped the swan, knocking it to the floor. She scooped up the pieces and frantically shoved them into her pocket.
Sister Pedersen called, “Come downstairs, Amy, and have some biscuits and milk. Then you’d better hurry home, or your mother might not let you come again.”
Amy gulped down her snack nervously. She was too afraid to say anything about the precious bird. She said good-bye and raced down the sidewalk.
What should I do? she wondered. I can’t go back, no matter what Mother says. As Amy shut the gate, she looked up and saw Sister Pedersen waving to her. It made her feel worse, somehow.
Walking home from school the next day, Amy passed Sister Pedersen’s house and sighed with relief. At least she wasn’t supposed to read to Sister Pedersen until next week. But she still felt awful, and when she got home, she dumped all the money out of her old tin-can bank onto her bed and counted it carefully. “I hope it’s enough,” she muttered as she went to find her mother.
After school Monday, Amy slowly approached Sister Pedersen’s porch, clutching a white box. When the door opened, she said, “It’s Amy, Sister Pedersen.”
“Come in, Amy. I didn’t think this was the day for your visit, but you’re welcome anytime.”
After they sat down, Amy carefully opened the box and placed the new swan in Sister Pedersen’s hands. Swallowing nervously, Amy said, “This is a replacement for the one that I broke. I’m awfully sorry. It was an accident.”
“It’s all right, Amy. I heard it break. I’m glad that you told me, though,” Sister Pedersen said, adding, “I’m sure that this bird cost you dearly, and I want you to keep it. Keep it and its beauty—you have given me something more beautiful. You have been an honest and good friend.”
When she left to go home, Amy happily walked down the sidewalk and turned at the gate to wave good-bye to Sister Pedersen, her new friend, who stood in the doorway, waving back.

Claire and Sandra Hoey of Craigavon are members of the Portadown Ward. They talk about the walls that missionaries helped tumble for their family.
“The missionaries had been coming to our parents for a long time,” Sandra says. “But I never paid any attention. Then one night I was upstairs and started listening. I got more interested in what they were saying. I decided it was time to see what it was all about.”
The discussions became more and more serious. The parents were baptized. An older brother was baptized. Then Sandra, then Claire.
After the baptisms, a friend “noticed that since I’ve joined the Church I’ve been happier,” Claire says. “She wanted to find out what it was that was making me happy.” Now the friend is taking the discussions in the Hoeys’ home. “I can remember asking the same questions, praying to resolve the same doubts,” Claire says. “It helps when I can tell her I’ve been through the same thing and gained my own testimony.”

When I was nine years old, we lived in Fillmore, Utah. One rainy day, my mom, my two sisters, and I left for Kanab, Utah, to help my great-granny. We were on a winding road where you can’t see what is coming toward you until it is right there. The rain started pouring so hard that it was even harder to see. We had to keep driving because there were no places to pull over. I asked Mom if I should say a prayer. She said yes, so I did. I asked Heavenly Father to let the rain slow down until we got across Bear Valley. After a few seconds, the rain came down only very lightly and almost stopped. When we turned onto Highway 89, the rain picked up again, but we could see. We felt good about continuing our trip.
This year, we moved to Price, Utah. It started raining really hard while we were trying to load the moving truck. I went into my empty bedroom and asked Heavenly Father to let the rain quit until we were finished. It did quit, and we even had some sun. I told my parents what I had done, and Mom cried and hugged me because she remembered about Bear Valley, too. It didn’t rain again until we left Fillmore with all our things loaded.
I have a strong testimony of the power of prayer. I know that Heavenly Father listens to children. I will be a deacon soon, and I know I will need to use prayer constantly to help me fulfill my duties. And I know that He will be there and will listen to me.Kass Esplin, age 11Price, Utah

Almost exactly one hundred years ago, when the Church already had several stake academies, including Brigham Young Academy in Provo, the First Presidency released James E. Talmage from heading LDS College in Salt Lake City and assigned him to create the plans for what Talmage’s biographer called “a genuine Church university.”46 Talmage was stirred to the core at “the prospect of . . . founding . . . an institution . . . that would merit recognition by the established centers of learning throughout the nation and the world. It was a dream he had cherished for many years.”47 The proposed name: Young University.48

Think of it: just months after the Manifesto had been issued, the Church barely rescued from the jaws of utter destruction, Utah not yet a state, and already a network of Church academies in place, those Saints in their poverty wanted to create a genuine university. This early plan was shattered by the Panic of 1893, but the dream lived on. In the 1920s and 1930s, the Church withdrew from higher education, creating a system of institutes of religion and offering to state governments all of its academies except for our very own Brigham Young Academy, which the First Presidency determined to keep in order to develop one genuine university.49 The dream was still alive.

Lydia Kaminaga, like Hirobo Obeketang, was born into the Church but became less active during her teen years. But the story of her journey back is as remarkable as it is distinct.

Lydia and her husband, Kaminaga Kaminaga, both grew up in the Church. “I never had any doubt about the teachings of the Church,” says Kaminaga. “I’ve always believed them.”

But life moved differently for Lydia. When she was in seventh grade, she says, “I was the only Mormon in my school, and I felt left out. I did what my friends were doing. I got my priorities wrong.”

Lydia’s parents sent her to Provo, Utah, USA, to live with family, hoping their influence might inspire Lydia to live the gospel. Though she learned things that helped her later in life, at the time she wasn’t interested in Church activity.

Lydia moved back to the Marshall Islands in January 2002, just a month after Kaminaga returned from serving a mission in Japan. They met shortly thereafter. Although Lydia was not living Church standards, Kaminaga kept coming to her house pretending that he wanted to visit her nephew, Gary Zackious.

Eventually, Kaminaga made up his mind to talk to her parents about going out on dates—wholesome, clean activities—with Lydia. Although they initially tried to dissuade him, Kaminaga says he “finally told them, ‘There’s still a chance for her to change.’ When I said that, the whole feeling in the room changed. Her dad cried and said, ‘I’ve always wanted her back in the Church. You can try.’”

At first Lydia didn’t take Kaminaga seriously. After all, he was a clean-cut returned missionary, and she hadn’t been active.

“But he saw something I didn’t see,” Lydia explains. Since she wasn’t dating anyone, she agreed to go out with him. “He brought me back. Being his girlfriend, I had to set my standards straight. He reminded me of my covenants made at baptism. He reminded me of all the things I really missed a lot, like reading scriptures and family home evening. Kaminaga and I did service projects together. We read the Book of Mormon. We went to firesides. He showed me how to live differently. Going to church was not just sacrament meeting but also Sunday School and Relief Society too.”

As they spent time together on dates that were wholesome and uplifting, Lydia’s life began to change and her testimony grew. She still had to clear some things up, however.

“It was hard coming back,” she admits. “Repentance is not easy, but I have a really strong testimony of repentance. In a lot of ways, our dating was about getting to know each other more and about getting me back to church, to see things differently.”

“It’s about relationships,” adds Kaminaga.

Lydia and Kaminaga were married on November 28, 2002. A year later they were sealed in the Laie Hawaii Temple and attended Brigham Young University–Hawaii. Now they live in the Marshall Islands with their three children. Lydia serves as their ward’s Sunday School teacher for the young men and young women, and Kaminaga serves as the Young Men president.

As a teenager, I dreaded church.
I believed the gospel was true, and I knew that attending church was necessary for me to continue to grow spiritually. But I often felt inadequate.
In my mind, I thought I couldn’t live up to everyone’s expectations of what a good member of the Church should be like (or what I thought everyone’s expectations were). Everyone else seemed to be bubbly, outgoing, eloquent, and always willing to bear testimony or say a prayer. But me? I was quiet and I felt anxious in social situations. So I didn’t feel like I had a light to shine as a member of the Church.
During college I moved into a new apartment, and my roommate introduced me to her friends in the ward. I immediately felt like I belonged with them because of their love and acceptance they showed me. I felt like they genuinely wanted to get to know me. To my surprise, I felt a great deal of my social anxiety subside.
I realized this sense of belonging didn’t come from a change in scenery, but from a changed perspective. I learned that I don’t have to be outgoing to be a disciple of Jesus Christ. There is strength in quiet. There is strength in listening and pondering. By recognizing my strengths as a more introverted person and tackling my weaknesses related to social anxiety, I found a middle ground that helped me survive—and even thrive in the gospel.
One question I asked myself was why I even went to church in the first place. I went to take the sacrament, to learn more about Jesus Christ, and to be worthy of the temple. But the scriptures also tell us that “the body [of the Church] hath need of every member, that all may be edified together” (Doctrine and Covenants 84:110; see also Ephesians 4:12).
While church meetings nourish our own testimonies, I realized that church is not only about me. We individually remember the Savior as we take the sacrament, but we are edified together as we share this ordinance as a congregation.
I was too concerned about what others thought about me and not concerned enough with the principle that should guide us in all our thoughts and actions: love. The prophet Mormon wrote, “I fear not what man can do; for perfect love casteth out all fear” (Moroni 8:16).
I realized that I don’t have to be best friends with everyone or be the most popular person in the ward. What is most important is not the quantity of my social interaction but the quality of my relationships. Instead of worrying about everyone at once, I just focus on connecting with one person each week at church.
Church is still a challenge sometimes, but as I have gently pushed myself to step outside my comfort zone and overcome my social anxiety, I have felt the Savior’s love for me and for all of His children. I am beginning to find my place. I know I’ve received grace through the Atonement of Jesus Christ to work toward overcoming my weaknesses and to use my strengths to build up the kingdom of God.

Before I went into combat experience, I had, at the prompting of my father, a patriarchal blessing given to me. As you know, that’s an opportunity, under the hands of those who hold the priesthood, to have the spiritual gifts and opportunities, the actual capacities that are within us, revealed to us in such a way that we can actually formulate our lives for the future as we apply the principles of the gospel. And you know, that patriarchal blessing stated in a number of paragraphs that I would live, as we might term in the vernacular, to a ripe old age, that I would have a wife and a family and certain experiences in the Church. And then it concluded, as they often do, with the conditional clause, “if thou art willing.” See, there’s the condition. If you are willing, Paul, these things will come to pass. And one of the paragraphs indicated divine intervention in time of combat.
Now there were 1,000 of us in my combat team who left San Francisco on that fateful journey, and there were six of us who came back 2 1/2 years later. How do you like that for odds! And of the six of us, five had been severely wounded two or more times and had been sent back into the line as replacements. There had been literally thousands of incidents where I should have been taken from the earth by the enemy and for some reason was not.
Not too many battles later my squad got the assignment to go out and find the enemy position and their ammunition and supply dump—an assignment that was frequently given to an infantry squadron. We used to rotate this and we took turns. This required an all-night skirmish. We were to go out and spend one complete day and night and come back the next morning. We went out and finally got behind their lines and secured their position and ammunition dump, plotted it on our map, and started back. But our battle line had changed, and the enemy now occupied the area where we had been the day before. They had pushed our forces back a quarter of a mile in a counterattack. So we came around a hill into a valley, thinking it was held by our side, but the enemy now held both hills, and we were in a valley right between them. By the time we discovered it, they had annihilated one or two of our squad, and the rest of us took cover in a deep shell hole right in the center.
It was late afternoon when we found ourselves in this particular position. We knew we had to be out of there by nightfall because they’d just squeeze us out, the fighting being what it was in that sector. So we sat there, 11 of us, plotting what we’d do and how we’d do it. We were still 350 to 400 yards from our lines. In fact, we could even hear our fellows yell when they saw our plight, but it was too late. So we kept calling back over to them that we were going to make a dash for it, but we’d let them know just as soon as we could decide, and as we sat there surveying our situation, we decided that right at dusk we would go as a team, realizing that some wouldn’t make it. But it was the only way to get some of us out of it. There’s a long inventory-taking episode, let me tell you, as you sit there waiting.
We decided that we’d go at 6:15 because it would be just dark enough that we would be less of a target but light enough that we could make our way. We called over to our fellows to give us as much cover as they could with fire power, that the 11 men they would see scampering would be us, and to protect us with all they had. They called back that that’s what they’d do. We stripped our rifles down because we couldn’t take them with us, and got rid of all the heavy weights: there was the ammunition, the pouches, the grenades. We disassembled them as much as we could so that the enemy wouldn’t get any value from them. Then we sat there meditating and talking, and the others asked if I would kneel and lead them in prayer. And then we promised certain things we’d do for each other in terms of family welfare and all the rest if one made it and the other didn’t. I always carried my blessing with me, and I remember looking at it at 6:05, and I opened it up and studied it again, and it said, in essence, “Paul, you will live to see certain things come to pass if you’re willing.” There wasn’t a human way out of the situation we were in. You’d have to have been there to appreciate what I’m trying to tell you.
Well, the zero minute came, and we shook hands, and you never saw 11 men scamper like that before. I wished I’d had the track coach there. I think I set a new world record as I made my way to the American line. Three or four of the others didn’t get above the surface of the ground; they were cut down with machine guns. One of my good friends was almost cut in two with a burst, and as I stopped to try to help, I could see it was hopeless, and so l started on. It had been raining hard, and it was slippery, dirty, muddy, and so cold, and you’d fall as many times as you’d take a step almost, trying to get some traction. I’d move this way and that way, and I could tell I had a sniper with a machine gun right on me because the dirt and the mud behind me would just kick right up, move right around me, and then I’d move this way and then he’d pick me up again and move back. I was going with all I had. By then it was everybody for himself, and as I scampered within 50 yards of our hole, the sniper got a direct beam on me, and the first burst caught me in the right heel. It took my combat boot right off, just made me barefooted that quick without touching me physically, and it spun me around, and I went down on my knee. As I went down another machine gun burst came across my back and ripped the belt and the canteen and the ammunition pouch right off my back without touching me. As I got up to run, another burst hit me right in the back of the helmet, and it hit in the steel part, ricocheted enough to where it came up over my head, and split the helmet in two, but it didn’t touch me. Then I lunged forward again, and another burst caught me in the loose part of the shoulders where I could take off both my shirt sleeves without removing my coat, and then one more lunge and I fell over the line, into the arms of one of the dirtiest sergeants you ever saw. He’d watched the whole encounter, and he said, “Paul, you sure are lucky.” He said, “Follow me,” and I crawled back up, and I was the only one of the 11 who had even made it the first 100 yards.
Lucky? Oh, you call it what you want. I’d had verification after verification. A thousand such incidents happened to me in two years of combat experience. I only relate these things because I feel that young people everywhere, in and out of the Church, need to commence a serious investigation of their own souls and status in this life, because they are at a time when they can prepare.