Gospel Story Finder

Ricardo’s testimony was strengthened that day, but before he was 11, he didn’t even know what a testimony was. Then one day a friend invited him to church. He enjoyed it so much he kept coming back.
Unfortunately, his mother didn’t like him going. And she didn’t want him joining the Church when he asked to be baptized. “But the missionaries talked to my mother, and she liked them, so she finally gave permission,” he says.

Ever since then Ricardo has been a devoted and energetic disciple of Christ. He currently holds the priesthood office of priest in the Barueri Ward, Barueri Brazil Stake. Ricardo is usually the first one at church, even though he must walk two and a half miles (4 km) to get there. He says he wants to come to every meeting, even those not on Sunday.
Although he is the only Church member in his family, he still does all he can to build the Lord’s kingdom. That’s what you want to do when you have a testimony, he says. He is even learning to play the piano so he can accompany the singing in priesthood meeting.
“What is important is eternity,” he says. “Now that I’m a member of the Church, I see everything in an eternal light.”
Does heaven’s light shine for anyone who seeks the Lord? Even for those who consider themselves the least in the kingdom? Indeed it does. Ask Ricardo. He knows.

Much like another young man, whom I will mention later, I was 14 when I started to question religion and my faith. I attended the church of another denomination close to my house, but I felt the desire to visit many different churches.
One afternoon, I noticed two young men in dark suits and white shirts entering my neighbor’s home. These young men looked—special.
The next day I met my neighbor, Leonor Lopez, and asked her about those two men. Leonor explained that they were missionaries for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. She joyfully told me that her family was baptized into the Church a year earlier. Seeing my interest, Leonor invited me to meet the missionaries and learn about the Church.
Two days later, I joined the Lopez family to meet the missionaries. They introduced themselves as Elder John Messerly from Ogden, Utah, and Elder Christopher Osorio from Walnut Creek, California. I will never forget them.
Since I was only 14, Elder Messerly insisted we go next door to my home so that my mother could know what they were teaching me. There, he kindly explained that they came to share a message about Jesus Christ and asked for her permission to teach me. Mother agreed and even joined us while they taught me.
The missionaries first asked Leonor to offer a prayer. This touched me very deeply because her prayer was not a repetition of memorized words but an expression from her heart. I felt she was really talking to her Heavenly Father.
The missionaries then taught us about Jesus Christ. They showed a picture of Him that impressed me because it was a picture of the resurrected, living Christ.
They continued, teaching us how Jesus established His Church in ancient times, with Him at the head joined by twelve Apostles. They taught us about the Apostasy—how truth and Christ’s authority had been taken from the earth after His Apostles died.
They told us of a young 14-year-old boy named Joseph Smith who, during the early 1800s, visited different churches searching for truth. As time went on, Joseph became even more confused. After reading in the Bible that we can “ask of God” for wisdom, Joseph, acting in faith, retired to a grove of trees to pray and ask which church he should join.
One of the missionaries read Joseph’s account of what happened as he prayed:
“I saw a pillar of light exactly over my head, above the brightness of the sun, which descended gradually until it fell upon me.
“… When the light rested upon me I saw two Personages, whose brightness and glory defy all description, standing above me in the air. One of them spake unto me, calling me by name and said, pointing to the other—This is My Beloved Son. Hear Him!”
During that lesson, the Spirit confirmed to me several truths.
First, God listens to all His children’s sincere prayers, and heaven is open to all—not just a few.
Second, God the Father, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Ghost are three separate beings, united in Their purpose “to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man.”
Third, we are created in the image of God. Our Heavenly Father and His Son, Jesus Christ, have bodies of flesh and bones like us, but They are glorified and perfected, and the Holy Ghost is a personage of spirit.
Fourth, through Joseph Smith, Jesus Christ restored His gospel and true Church to the earth. The priesthood authority conferred on Christ’s Apostles 2,000 years ago is the same priesthood conferred upon Joseph Smith and Oliver Cowdery by Peter, James, and John.
Finally, we learned about another testament of Jesus Christ: the Book of Mormon. Written by ancient prophets, it tells of the people who lived in the Americas before, during, and after the birth of Jesus. From it we learn of how they knew, loved, and worshipped Christ, who appeared to them as the resurrected Savior.
The Spirit moved me profoundly as I learned of the Savior’s declaration to them: “Behold, I am Jesus Christ, whom the prophets testified shall come into the world.”
The missionaries gave us our own copy of the Book of Mormon. We read and accepted the invitation found at the end of the Book of Mormon, which reads:
“And when ye shall receive these things, I would exhort you that ye would ask God, the Eternal Father, in the name of Christ, if these things are not true; and if ye shall ask with a sincere heart, with real intent, having faith in Christ, he will manifest the truth of it unto you, by the power of the Holy Ghost.
“And by the power of the Holy Ghost ye may know the truth of all things.”
It has been almost 45 years since my mother and I first learned the joy and power of having faith in Christ. It was because of their faith in Christ that the Lopez family shared their new faith with me. It was because of their faith in Christ that these two missionaries left their homes in the United States to find my mother and me. It was the faith of all these dear friends that planted a mustard seed of faith in us that has since grown into a mighty tree of eternal blessings.
During these blessed years, we have known, as President Russell M. Nelson declared: “Everything good in life—every potential blessing of eternal significance—begins with faith. Allowing God to prevail in our lives begins with faith that He is willing to guide us. True repentance begins with faith that Jesus Christ has the power to cleanse, heal, and strengthen us.”

Elder Ulisses Soares traveled with President Dallin H. Oaks to help dedicate a new temple in Colombia, in the city of Barranquilla [bar-an-KEE-ya].
Many children came with their parents to see the new temple be dedicated.
President Oaks invited a boy and girl to help seal the cornerstone in place. The temple was finished!
Inside the temple after the cornerstone ceremony, Elder Soares gave a talk. Then President Oaks gave a prayer to dedicate the temple to the Lord. Now the temple is the Lord’s house.
Now children will be able to go inside to be sealed to their families and do temple baptisms!
“Whatever you do, keep your eyes on the temple.”
—Elder Ulisses Soares

Age 17. From Saskatchewan, Canada. Loves singing, taekwondo, boxing, and playing the ukulele, guitar, and piano.
My mom has been taking my siblings and me to sing and dance at senior homes since I was six years old. It’s kind of our way to share the gospel. Recently we sang “Nearer, My God, to Thee,” and a lady in the back started crying. That’s one of my favorite songs to sing.
Another time, I got a feeling that we should sing “You Are My Sunshine.” We sang it, and the entire crowd started singing with us. A few of them cried. It was kind of a life-changing experience for me. I was so glad I listened to the prompting to sing that song.
Besides singing at senior homes, I have also done some service projects in my town, such as taking food to the homeless. I also volunteer for two organizations as a mentor for kids who want to plan their own service projects.
I think overall I’ve learned that a lot of people in the world are struggling. We don’t always see that, but simple acts of service, like singing a few songs or doing a few dances, can make people smile.
I think we should all be involved in service—in our community or even our own families. Service brings happiness to the people you’re helping and to you. When you serve others, you’re serving God and you’re helping His children, who He loves very much. (See Mosiah 2:17.)
“Service brings happiness to the people you’re helping and to you.”

Recently, the Young Women organization of the Wilton Ward, Elk Grove California Stake, decided to join forces with the Relief Society sisters in their ward and learn to crochet items for those in need and for patrons of the Sacramento California Temple.
The project helped the young women develop in three different areas: they learned a new skill, they got to know some of the Relief Society sisters better, and some of them even extended the activity into one of their Personal Progress projects.
“I had a lot of fun learning to crochet with my friends,” said Stephany Mayer. “Since then I’ve been able to make gifts for Relief Society sisters and babies in the ward. I have also learned to make other crochet items like sweaters and tablecloths.”

One Sunday while I was serving as mission president in Vladivostok, Russia, a rather amazing thing happened. I had gone to my office to gather some materials when a 13-year-old young man, Vladimir, whose friends call him Vova, knocked on the door. Vova is a deacon in the Vladivostok First Branch. He asked to visit with me in my office. He was accompanied by Sister Olga Vyachyeslavna Dryagunova. This sister speaks wonderful English, and the boy had asked her if she would act as his interpreter. Vova speaks no English, and I speak only a little Russian.
Vova had been an orphan, abandoned at birth because he was born with a cleft palate. The birth defect has since been partially repaired, leaving a scar. He was adopted by a wonderful woman who has treated him as her son. The boy is always happy. He has a smile on his face and a wonderful countenance when he passes the sacrament. He wears the mantle of a deacon as well as any boy I have ever known. He regularly bears a sweet and brief testimony of the truthfulness of the gospel. He is everything that a deacon ought to be.
At our meeting Vova spoke Russian and Sister Olga interpreted. She told me that Vova had come to fill out his application to serve as a full-time missionary. I asked, without a hint of a smile, “How old is he?”
She asked and he answered, “Nearly 14.”
Retaining my composure, I said, “Does he understand that he needs to be 19 before he can serve a mission?”
She responded, “He does, but he does not want to be tardy in getting his application in.”
I assured them that there was still time before we needed to send his missionary application to Moscow and then on to Salt Lake City. Neither the branch president nor I would forget when it was time for him to fill out his forms. I walked to the wall displaying pictures of the 44 missionaries then serving in the Russia Vladivostok Mission. I told Vova I was worried that the missionary papers might be returned if it appeared that I was recommending a 13-year-old boy for a mission.
Then I explained that since he was in my office where I conducted interviews with the missionaries, I thought it appropriate to ask him the questions that will be asked of him when he is 19, just to make sure that he was currently worthy to serve a mission. I then went through all the worthiness questions as though Vova were one of my full-time missionaries but tactfully passed over the boy-girl questions, thinking them premature. Besides, I didn’t want to embarrass Sister Olga.
Vova answered all my questions with the appropriate responses and with the wisdom of a boy twice his age. Upon further reflection, I guessed that he may have even asked one of the elders what interview questions he might anticipate from the mission president. I then told Vova that he could come back every six months, and we would repeat the interview process.
He then asked with some concern what he should say to let me know he was ready for another interview six months from now. I said to him, through Sister Olga, that it was now time for him to have his first English lesson. I then said slowly, “This is what you should say to me, ‘President, I am ready for my missionary interview.’”
He repeated the important words he needed to know three times.
As I was ready to end the interview, Vova asked Sister Olga to ask me one last question. “President,” he said, “what advice do you have for me to prepare for my mission?”
I was a bit taken aback. Few of my mature elders would have the wisdom to ask such a timely question. I pondered for a moment and then told him to do three things: First, I told him to read the scriptures each day. Second, I suggested that he pray to his Heavenly Father each morning and evening. Third, I told him to practice his English.
I confess that the last suggestion was a little selfish on my part, as I was thinking how I would enjoy speaking with him in English and asking him questions about the things of his heart. I suggested he attend the free English classes taught by the missionaries, but he said his mother would not allow him to be out after dark. We agreed that he would work harder each day in his English class at school.
Later, when I saw the deacons in the hall after church, I asked Vova if he would like to repeat the phrase he needed to use to ask for his next interview. This he did in a fine manner. Then to my great surprise, I learned that each of the other deacons in the branch had also learned the magic words. Each one repeated while looking right at me, “President, I am ready for my missionary interview!”
Oh, the power of example! The joy of one willing to open his mouth and share the things he had learned with another was something I was trying to get all of my missionaries to experience! These Russian deacons were on the road to perfection.
As I sat at my desk, I wondered what could be done in advancing the missionary work in this vast land of Russia if, in five years’ time when Vova is 19 years old and ready to serve his mission, there were another 2,000 young Russian deacons preparing just like Vova. The answer, of course, is found in Alma 57. There a prophet named Helaman had 2,000 young men, and he was able to perform miracles with boys of great faith and devotion who had been taught by their mothers (see Alma 57:21).
Think how blessed the mission president will be who gets Vova as one of his stripling missionaries.

Perhaps a shared experience will assist in formulating answers to these significant and universally asked questions. When I reflect on the race of life, I remember another race, even from childhood days. When I was about ten, my boyfriends and I would take pocketknives in hand and, from the soft wood of a willow tree, fashion small toy boats. With a triangular-shaped cotton sail in place, each would launch his crude craft in a race down the relatively turbulent waters of the Provo River. We would run along the river’s bank and watch the tiny vessels sometimes bobbing violently in the swift current and at other times sailing serenely as the water deepened.
During such a race, we noted that one boat led all the rest toward the appointed finish line. Suddenly, the current carried it too close to a large whirlpool, and the boat heaved to its side and capsized. Around and around it was carried, unable to make its way back into the main current. At last it came to rest at the end of the pool, amid the flotsam and jetsam that surrounded it, held fast by the fingerlike tentacles of the grasping green moss.
The toy boats of childhood had no keel for stability, no rudder to provide direction, and no source of power. Like the hitchhiker, their destination was “Anywhere,” but inevitably downstream.
We have been provided divine attributes to guide our destiny. We entered mortality not to float with the moving currents of life, but with the power to think, to reason, and to achieve. We left our heavenly home and came to earth in the purity and innocence of childhood.
Our Heavenly Father did not launch us on our eternal journey without providing the means whereby we could receive from Him God-given guidance to ensure our safe return at the end of life’s great race. Yes, I speak of prayer. I speak, too, of the whisperings from that still, small voice within each of us; and I do not overlook the holy scriptures, written by mariners who successfully sailed the seas we too must cross.
Individual effort will be required of us. What can we do to prepare? How can we assure a safe voyage?
First, we must visualize our objective. What is our purpose? The Prophet Joseph Smith counseled: “Happiness is the object and design of our existence; and will be the end thereof, if we pursue the path that leads to it; and this path is virtue, uprightness, faithfulness, holiness, and keeping all the commandments of God” (Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith, pages 255–56). In this one sentence we are provided not only a well-defined goal, but also the way we might achieve it.
Second, we must make continuous effort. Have you noticed that many of the most cherished of God’s dealings with His children have been when they were engaged in a proper activity? The visit of the Master to His disciples on the way to Emmaus, the good Samaritan on the road to Jericho, even Nephi on his return to Jerusalem, and Father Lehi en route to the precious land of promise. Let us not overlook Joseph Smith on the way to Carthage, and Brigham Young on the vast plains to the valley home of the Saints.
Third, we must not detour from our determined course. In our journey we will encounter forks and turnings in the road. There will be the inevitable trials of our faith and the temptations of our times. We simply cannot afford the luxury of a detour, for certain detours lead to destruction and spiritual death. Let us avoid the moral quicksands that threaten on every side, the whirlpools of sin, and the crosscurrents of uninspired philosophies. That clever pied piper called Lucifer still plays his lilting melody and attracts the unsuspecting away from the safety of their chosen pathway, away from the counsel of loving parents, away from the security of God’s teachings. His tune is ever so old, his words ever so sweet. His price is everlasting. He seeks not the refuse of humanity, but the very elect of God. King David listened, then followed, then fell. But then so did Cain in an earlier era, and Judas Iscariot in a later one.
Fourth, to gain the prize, we must be willing to pay the price. The apprentice does not become the master craftsman until he has qualified. The lawyer does not practice until he has passed the bar. The doctor does not attend our needs until internship has been completed.
You are the fellow that has to decide
Whether you’ll do it or toss it aside. …
Whether you’ll seek the goal that’s afar
Or just be contented to stay where you are.
(Edgar A. Guest, “You.”)
Let us remember how Saul the persecutor became Paul the proselyter, how Peter the fisherman became the Apostle of spiritual power.
Our example in the race of life could well be our Elder Brother, even the Lord. As a small boy, He provided a watchword: “Wist ye not that I must be about my Father’s business?” (Luke 2:49). As a grown man, He taught by example, compassion, love, obedience, sacrifice, and devotion. To you and to me His summons is still the same: “Come, follow me.”
One who listened and who followed was Elder Randall Ellsworth. While serving in Guatemala as a missionary, Randall Ellsworth survived a devastating earthquake, which hurled a beam down on his back, paralyzing his legs and severely damaging his kidneys. He was the only American injured in the quake, which claimed the lives of some eighteen thousand persons.
After receiving emergency medical treatment, he was flown to a large hospital near his home in Rockville, Maryland. While Randall was confined there, a television newscaster conducted with him an interview that I witnessed through the miracle of television. The reporter asked, “Can you walk?”
The answer: “Not yet, but I will.”
“Do you think you will be able to complete your mission?”
Came the reply, “Others think not, but I will.”
With microphone in hand, the reporter continued, “I understand you have received a special letter containing a get-well message from none other than the President of the United States.”
“Yes,” replied Randall, “I am very grateful to the President for his thoughtfulness; but I received another letter, not from the president of my country, but from the president of my church—The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints—President Spencer W. Kimball. This I cherish. With him praying for me, and the prayers of my family, my friends, and my missionary companions, I will return to Guatemala. The Lord wanted me to preach the gospel there for two years, and that’s what I intend to do.”
I turned to my wife and commented, “He surely must not know the extent of his injuries. Our official medical reports would not permit us to expect such a return to Guatemala.”
How grateful am I that the day of faith and the age of miracles are not past history but continue with us even now.
The newspapers and the television cameras turned their attention to more immediate news as the days turned to weeks and the weeks to months. The words of Rudyard Kipling describe Randall Ellsworth’s situation:
The tumult and the shouting dies—
The Captains and the Kings depart—
Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice,
An humble and a contrite heart.
Lord God of hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget—lest we forget!
(“Recessional”)
And God did not forget him who possessed a humble and a contrite heart, even Elder Randall Ellsworth. Little by little, the feeling began to return. In his own words, Randall described the recovery: “The thing I did was always to keep busy, always pushing myself. In the hospital I asked to do therapy twice a day instead of just once. I wanted to walk again on my own.” When the Missionary Department evaluated the medical progress Randall Ellsworth had made, word was sent to him that his return to Guatemala was authorized. Said he, “At first I was so happy I didn’t know what to do. Then I went into my bedroom and I started to cry. Then I dropped to my knees and thanked my Heavenly Father.”
Randall Ellsworth walked aboard the plane that carried him back to the mission to which he was called and back to the people whom he loved. Behind he left a trail of skeptics, a host of doubters, but also hundreds amazed at the power of God, the miracle of faith, and the reward of determination. Ahead lay thousands of honest, God-fearing, and earnestly seeking sons and daughters of our Heavenly Father. A modern-day Paul, who had overcome his “thorn in the flesh,” had returned to teach them the truth, to lead them to life eternal. From Elder Ellsworth, they heard God’s word. They learned His truth. They accepted His ordinances.
Like Randall Ellsworth, may we know where we are going, be willing to make the continuous effort required to get there, avoid any detour, and be willing to pay the often very high price of faith and determination to win life’s race.
At the end of our mortal journey, may we be able to echo the words of Paul: “I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith” (2 Tim. 4:7). By so doing we shall be given that “crown of righteousness” which perisheth not, and hear the plaudit from our Eternal Judge: “Well done, thou good and faithful servant: thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy lord” (Matt. 25:21).
We will then have completed our journey. Not to a nebulous “Anywhere,” but to our heavenly home—even eternal life in the celestial kingdom of God.

But in addition to the blessings, life for the Pitakpongs has had its traumas, too. Some seven years ago, President Pitakpong was out of town on business when an intruder in his home struck Sister Pitakpong with a wrench and stole a gold necklace she was wearing. “My son, Wuthikrai, went to his mother’s aid, and he, too, was hit, as was my wife’s mother. The man ran away as my daughter screamed for help.
“My wife had to be hospitalized, and she still suffers from severe headaches that make it difficult for her to concentrate.”
But the family finds comfort in living the gospel of Jesus Christ. “Being sealed together in the temple brought a special spirit into our family,” says President Pitakpong. “It strengthened our individual testimonies. Now, not only does our sixteen-year-old son want to go on a mission, but his two younger sisters want to go, too.”

It was a dry year when Mona and George Dunn decided to grow sugarcane on their farm near Lautoka. After six weeks without rain, the Dunns and the contractor whom they had hired to plant their crop feared that the seedlings would not survive. Brother and Sister Dunn and their sons fasted and prayed. As they returned from church the next Sunday, they met the contractor. “You are very blessed,” he said. “It has rained just enough to keep your cane alive.”
Later, when their water tank had nearly run dry, the Dunns again prayed for rain. As they sat on their veranda a few nights afterward, they saw a patch of clouds. “Wouldn’t it be marvelous if it poured right now?” said Sister Dunn.
“It will,” replied her husband.
And it did. The storm filled their tank to overflowing—but did not wet the road leading to their home.

Isabelle tried to focus on the reason for their journey. They were going to the temple to be sealed as a family! She remembered hearing her parents talk about the beautiful temple in São Paulo ever since she was a little girl. Going there almost seemed like a fairy tale. After all, Isabelle’s family lived in Manaus, deep in the Amazon rainforest, and the temple was more than 2,000 miles (3,219 km) away.
Then President Santiago had planned a six-day trip to get there. More than 100 members had decided to go. “It will be a sacrifice,” Mamãe had told her. “But sacrifice brings blessings.”
Soon the boat reached land. But they still had 1,500 miles (2,414 km) to go. Everyone got on a bus for the rest of the trip. For days, the bus jolted over the rough roads. One time it bounced so hard that the windshield broke! Sometimes they rode through hot, crowded cities. But at least the roads there weren’t so bumpy.
Everyone was always grateful when they stopped at a village or town to eat. They ate at chapels or with Church members along the way. The first night, they arrived so late that Isabelle was afraid that no one would be waiting. “Don’t worry,” Mamãe said with a tired smile. “Look!”
The branch president and Church members were lined up across the road. They held a banner that read “Sacrifice brings blessings.” Isabelle smiled. Mamãe was right!
After three bumpy days, they finally reached São Paulo. Isabelle stood on her seat to get a better view as the bus drove around a curve. Suddenly everyone on the bus burst into cheers. “O templo! O templo!” They could see the tall, thin temple spire rising above rows of palm trees.
Everyone was exhausted, but no one wanted to rest. They wanted to be sealed right away. When it was time for her family to be sealed, Isabelle carefully dressed in white. As she walked into the sealing room, she saw her father beaming. Tears of joy streamed down Mamãe’s face. Their journey had been long and even dangerous. But the sacrifice was worth it, Isabelle thought. She smiled as she took her place to be sealed to her family forever.

I understood that it was common for members to receive their temple endowment before entering the mission field, so I started preparing to enter. I knew that one of the changes that would occur in my life would be committing to wear the temple garment. I hadn’t thought much about garments before I started to prepare for the temple, so I didn’t have any preconceived notions about wearing them.
After moving to college, I worked with my bishop and went to institute every week. My institute instructor was kind enough to offer tailored temple preparation instruction for several weeks up until my endowment date. This was a tender mercy, considering that I was away from my home ward and didn’t have any family in the Church to guide me. Eventually I received my mission call to Paraguay, and I was ready to go to the temple for the first time.
Going to the temple felt like returning home. Even putting on garments for the first time felt like the missing piece to a puzzle I was trying to solve. I understood that my covenant to wear the garment was an important step in my spiritual progression, and although this decision is sacred and personal, I made it happily because I knew that the knowledge I would gain about my divinity as a daughter of God was above anything the world could offer me.
After I received my endowment, the biggest adjustment was not in how I felt when wearing garments but in the new wardrobe I had to build up thereafter. I purged a lot of clothes in my closet that wouldn’t cover my garments.
However, making those changes in my life felt right. Because I put in the time to prepare for the temple, the adjustment to my wardrobe was a happy, easy experience. And as I strived to learn more, I deepened my testimony that committing to wear the temple garment is more than just an adjustment in wardrobe—it is a symbol of my devotion to my Savior, Jesus Christ, and my choice to follow Him. It is also a gift—a tangible reminder of my temple covenants and the power, protection, and blessings available to me through the Savior’s atoning sacrifice.
My only expectation going into the temple the day of my endowment was to feel God’s love for me. I was able to feel that in the temple more abundantly than ever, and I was determined to keep my covenants and wear my garments because I never wanted that feeling to go away.
During the loneliest and most treacherous times of my life, my testimony of simple, bedrock gospel principles has nudged me to wear my garments always and intentionally while striving to keep the covenants I made in the temple.
I find great comfort in these words from President Russell M. Nelson:
“Whenever any kind of upheaval occurs in your life, the safest place to be spiritually is living inside your temple covenants!
“Please believe me when I say that when your spiritual foundation is built solidly upon Jesus Christ, you have no need to fear. As you are true to your covenants made in the temple, you will be strengthened by His power. Then, when spiritual earthquakes occur, you will be able to stand strong because your spiritual foundation is solid and immovable.”1
My life has not become easier since joining the Church. In fact, the most trying times of my life occurred after my baptism. However, I know that my knowledge of the restored gospel and the strength from the covenants I made in the temple have made these challenges bearable, and the outcomes would have been drastically different without my faith in Jesus Christ.
It’s challenging to live intentionally as a disciple of Christ when the world seems to be at odds with the standards that I strive to keep. But as President Nelson stated, the best refuge for me is living within my temple covenants, including wearing my garments the way I promised to. And as I continue to do so and stay on the covenant path, I know I will experience joy.

As a child, Isaiah John attended the Pentecostal church with his mother. At a certain point, he went to live with his brother in Monrovia. He continued attending the Pentecostal church after his move. One day he met a missionary who asked him about his beliefs and then asked him if he would be willing to visit The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Isaiah agreed. Right away he noticed a difference that he liked and that felt good. Isaiah began taking the lessons and prayed about what he should do. He wanted to do the right thing. He was baptized in October 2018. Isaiah was so happy to be baptized and confirmed. He was grateful for the gift of the Holy Ghost.
His mother came to visit and asked Isaiah if he was still going to church. He said “Yes, but not to the Pentecostal church”.
Isaiah said he will never forget what she said to him: “Brother Isaiah, do you know that the Church you are going to is a perfect church that has embraced the gospel of Jesus?”
He replied, “Yes, mom, I love the Church” and he explained that at church they talk about Heavenly Father, Jesus Christ, the Holy Ghost, and they teach how to live. Before she died in 2022, she told him to continue attending his church if he knew it was true, which made him very happy.
One day he was attending church and felt strongly that he needed to help others learn about Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. He had friends that were getting ready to go on a mission. That caused him to start thinking about a mission and recognized that it would make Heavenly Father happy. He prayed about it and asked Him for help getting the passport and other things ready. His sister and bishop answered that prayer by helping him get everything prepared.
Before he came to the missionary training center, he was discussing with a missionary about temple work. The thought came to him that his parents had given him life and done everything for him, and this was something he could do for them. He printed the temple ordinance cards and brought them with him. Elder John had the opportunity to attend the temple and to do the necessary ordinances for his mother and father. On 12 December 2023, Elder John was able to participate in having his parents sealed together, and he was then sealed to his parents. He felt as if his mother was asking him again “Brother Isaiah, do you know that this Church is the perfect Church?”
In his mind he, once again, answered “Yes, mom, I love the Church and know it is true.”
He knows that someday they will all be together, and that brings him great joy and peace.

I hope a personal example will help you as you do the spiritually invigorating work to learn for yourself what it means to be endowed with God’s power.
One day I received a text message from my daughter-in-law Amy: “Say a prayer for Dottie.”
My granddaughter Dottie hadn’t slept the night before. Amy had been up all night with her and said that Dottie was feverish. Amy gave her some medicine, but Dottie was still hot and restless. And my son Connor was traveling for work and not scheduled to be home for another two days.
When morning finally arrived, Amy found Dottie’s lips blue. Her hands were likewise blue and cold to the touch. Amy immediately had the impression, “Get Dottie to the pediatrician.” She heeded that prompting, called the pediatrician’s office, and was assured they would get Dottie right in.
Fortunately, the pediatrician’s office is across the street from my mom’s house. Amy felt impressed to drive by my mom’s house. My mother was working in her yard and happy to take Dottie’s four-year-old sister, Goldie, while Amy took Dottie to the pediatrician. It was an answer to Amy’s concern about needing to keep track of Goldie and attend to Dottie at the same time.
The pediatrician found that Dottie had pneumonia, likely from aspirating some bath water a few days earlier. Dottie was treated with antibiotics and spent the rest of the day in her mother’s arms, elevated to open her airways and ease her breathing.
I offered to pick up some dinner on my way home. And Amy let me, for which I was grateful. I wondered how Amy had managed after a sleepless night, the stress of having a sick toddler, and the need to attend to Goldie.
I walked in their home with the sack of take-out food and found Amy and the girls peaceful. There was a spring in Amy’s step and light in her countenance. She was calm, even facing another night alone with sick Dottie. She wasn’t afraid. She was confident. It was a peace that defied understanding. I just wanted to sit in the moment and soak it in.
Amy strives to keep her covenants with God and is blessed by His strengthening power. The Spirit had prompted her to take the actions she did to care for Dottie. And the Lord’s power enhanced her capacity to address her family’s needs in patience and love and with a calm reassurance that all would be well.

His next question surprised me. “Didn’t it hurt your eyes when they poured the latex in?” What on earth was he talking about? Nothing of that sort had gone on at all.
“I want to show you something,” he said, beckoning. I followed him upstairs to his room. From the back of his sock drawer, he pulled out a hinged leather case and opened it. On the white velvet lining were two glass balls. No, not balls. I picked one up. Doll teacups, of clear glass, an inch in diameter and an eighth inch thick.
“These are my contact lenses,” Daddy said sadly.
I was horrified. “How could anyone wear those? Why they must cover the whole eyeball!”
“That’s right,” he replied. “I wore them three times.”
My mother peered over my shoulder. “One of the times was on his second date with me,” she said. “His poor eyes watered so much and he was so miserable I made him take them off.”
“They made them by propping my eyelids open with a metal brace and pouring liquid latex over my eyes,” he explained. “The molds were then used for the glass lenses, which fit tightly over the entire eye. It took all my courage to put them in. I didn’t want that to happen to my little girl,” he finished lamely.

One Christmas season when I was about five, I saw in a store window a jigsaw puzzle with a picture of an old fire engine going full speed down the street. The horses pulling it were galloping, smoke from the engine chimney was blowing out behind, and dogs were barking. I passed that store window many times and glued my eyes on that picture. I wanted that puzzle for Christmas more than I wanted a sled or skates or anything else.
When Christmas morning finally came, I found hung on my chair a stocking full of good things. But right off I spotted my puzzle. It was wrapped in bright paper, but I could tell by the shape what it was. I quickly opened the box and was soon lost in the pleasure of putting the puzzle together.
Before long my father came into the room and explained to my younger brother, older sister, and me that the Jensen family down the street had recently come from Denmark. He said the father had no job and no money, and then he suggested that we take our Christmas dinner to them. He also asked each of us to select our most loved toy and give it to a child in the Jensen family.
Father said we would leave at eleven forty-five and were to be ready then with our toys.
Before we left for the Jensen’s, I spent three happy hours playing with and enjoying my puzzle. I thought about giving something else, but I knew deep down that there was only one gift to give.
At eleven forty-five we all started out. Father carried the turkey on a platter. Mother and my sister Emily followed with potatoes, gravy, dressing, cranberries, and dessert. And under my arm, carefully rewrapped, was my fire engine puzzle.
When we entered the Jensen home, Father placed the turkey on the small bare table in the corner, and the others followed.
Each one of us in turn then gave his present. Emily gave her beautiful doll to the girl. I stepped forward and looked at the boy about my age. “Here,” I said as I pushed the puzzle at him. He took it from me and smiled. Next my brother gave his offering to the smallest child. And then we returned home.
It was strange, but somehow as I walked the block between our house and the Jensen’s, it seemed as if my feet didn’t touch the ground. I felt as though I were floating on clouds of good feeling, for I knew I had made someone else happy.
Even our Christmas dinner of canned beans, bread, butter, and bottled fruit had a special and unforgettable meaning on that special Christmas Day!

Recently a missionary was injured during a preparation-day sports activity and was sent home to recover. He had high goals for getting the physical help he needed and then returning to his mission. However, too much unstructured time alone soon led to a relapse of old habits.

He indulged in sin that he thought he had repented of and left behind him before his mission. He was discouraged and upset about his lack of self-control. The more depressed he became, the more he sought escape in those bad habits. It was a downward cycle that was getting him nowhere fast.

“I feel like I’ve let Heavenly Father down,” the young man told his priesthood leader. “I repented of this before, and God forgave me. I promised never to do it again, and yet here I am as if I had never repented in the first place. I don’t deserve God’s forgiveness or help. Not now. Not ever.”

His priesthood leader said, “Then aren’t you glad to know grace is a gift? You don’t have to earn or deserve it. You simply need to choose to receive it by being willing to keep trying and not give up.”8 The leader then shared these words of Elder Neil L. Andersen of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles: “We may slip back at times, but let us quickly and humbly return to our knees and move again in the right direction.”9

Once more, the young man turned toward heaven, and the Savior was there to help. Not only did the young man’s injury heal, but so did his heart. One small goal at a time, and with the grace made possible by Jesus Christ, he began to improve. Soon he returned to his mission full of gratitude, self-worth, a sense of meaning, satisfaction with life, and optimism. That is the difference Christ’s grace can make.

I counsel you to honor your father and your mother. May I share with you an example of honoring one’s mother. Some years ago Ruth Fawson, mother of six, underwent life-threatening surgery. Her devoted husband and her three sons and three daughters were all at the hospital. The physicians and nurses explained to the family that they could return to their homes and that the staff was prepared to care adequately for Sister Fawson. The family expressed their thanks to the hospital staff but indicated a determination for at least one of its number to be present at all times. A daughter expressed the feelings of all: “We wanted to be there when Mother awakened and stretched forth her hand, so that it would be our hands she would grasp, it would be our smiles she would see, it would be our words she would hear, it would be our love she would feel.” “Honour thy father and thy mother.”

Along with setting goals, it’s important to Taylor to keep his priorities straight. He tells about one of his teachers at school who brought a glass jar to class one day. Taylor explains: “She filled it up with pretty good-sized rocks and held it up and asked, ‘Is this jar full?’ And we all said, ‘Yeah, it’s filled right to the top.’”

The teacher then filled the jar with smaller pebbles, shook it a bit to let them settle, then poured in more pebbles until they filled the jar. Again she asked the class, “Is the jar full?”

They said yes.

She then poured sand into the jar. Letting the sand sift to the bottom, she finally filled the jar to the top. Now it was full.

Her point was that the large rocks are the important things in life; you must put them in first, or they won’t fit. The smaller rocks and the sand—the less important things—can fit around them.

“To me, those important things in life are my family, the gospel, and my friends,” says Taylor. “The smaller ones are still important, like your schooling, your house. If we put the important things into our life first, and that’s our priority, then everything else will fall into place. If we put the other things in first, we won’t have room for the important things in life. And for me right now, the first one is serving a mission and living worthy to serve.”

In 1989, Elder Haight became critically ill and was rushed unconscious to the hospital. He later reported in the October 1989 general conference that while unconscious, he found himself “in a calm, peaceful setting … conscious of two persons on a hillside. … I was conscious of being in a holy presence and atmosphere. During the hours and days that followed, there was impressed again and again upon my mind the eternal mission and exalted position of the Son of Man. I witness to you that He is Jesus the Christ, the Son of God, Savior to all, Redeemer of all mankind, Bestower of infinite love, mercy and forgiveness, the Light and Life of the world. I knew this truth before—I had never doubted nor wondered. But now I knew, because of the impressions of the Spirit upon my heart and soul, these divine truths in a most unusual way” (Ensign, Nov. 1989, pp. 59–60).

Both Nikolai Chemezov and his wife, Asiya, of the Kharkivs’kyi Ward, were introduced to the gospel in their youth—Nikolai as an eight-year-old and Asiya as a teenager.
“Ever since I was baptized, I knew that Heavenly Father’s plan was the path of exaltation,” Brother Chemezov says. “The Church’s teachings on the divine mission of the family have always been important to me.”
Sister Chemezova also realized the importance of eternal families at a young age. “When I attended church as a young woman, I was taught how important it is to enter into sacred temple covenants,” she says. “I always dreamed of a temple marriage, and I always tried to be worthy of being able to be married in the temple.”
The couple began dating in 2009. As love blossomed and conversations began to turn toward marriage, the two already knew what would be their next step. “When they announced that the Kyiv Temple would be dedicated in August 2010, we decided we would be sealed there,” Sister Chemezova says.
“It’s good we didn’t have to wait too long,” Brother Chemezov adds.
The couple was sealed in marriage on September 1, 2010.
“It was the most wonderful day of my life,” Brother Chemezov says. “I felt blessed to take the hand of my dear Asiya and take her to the house of the Lord. It is safe to say that on that day my dream came true—the dream of creating an eternal family.”