Gospel Story Finder

Even though I’m 12, I still love reading the Friend. If I am worried or feel unsafe, the Friend is always there. Not long after the December 2004 tsunami, my family and I were watching the news on television. There were pictures of children who lost their parents or who were lost themselves. I began to feel sick and shaky. I asked my brother to read the Friend to me. The Friend helped me stop shaking that night, and it has also helped me with other things. THANKS!Jessica C., age 12, Washington

My name is Dumazedier Kabasele, and I live in Kinshasa, Democratic Republic of the Congo. I am married to a wonderful wife, Choudelle Kazadi, and we are the parents of two beautiful sons named Bryan and Khalis Kabasele.
I am a returned missionary who served in the French-speaking Democratic Republic of the Congo Lubumbashi Mission. The missionary manual Preach my Gospel inspired me to learn English because it would be a blessing for me, my family, and the Church. I did not realize how much this blessing would affect my life. My decision to learn English during my mission was supported by my mission president and his wife, Philip and Joy McMullin. I studied English two hours each day and this helped me to continue to gain more knowledge.
I got my first degree (an MD degree) in general medicine in my home country of DR Congo. Interested in learning more about the brain, I conducted further university studies in Bangalore, India, to expand my knowledge through a post-graduation fellowship in neurology and electrophysiology.
I first heard about the BYU-Pathway Worldwide program when I was in India. Most Church members were enrolled in this program. I was surprised that the Church offered the program in other countries but not my home country of DR Congo. But I could not join BYU-Pathway at that time due to my intense graduate studies, but my prayer was that the program could one day be offered in my home country and that I could join and learn more about it.
In 2019, the program was approved, and I was among the first generation of students in Kinshasa to be enrolled. The beginning was difficult for me, because I had a full-time job and lived in a different area from the meeting location. But I had the support of my family and my friend Patrick Kalambayi. We both walked a long distance to attend the meetings and returned home late. Sometimes we didn’t have electricity. We were looking for places with electricity to charge our computer.
At one point, the government authorities shut down internet due to some political issues. My friend and I went to the local UN agency for help, telling them we had to send our school assignments and we needed connection to the internet to do our homework. I have a testimony that Heavenly Father puts people in our path to support and help us in times of adversity, such as electricity and internet access shortages.
After completing PathwayConnect, I decided to enroll in the public health program at Brigham Young University-Idaho. I completed a certification in public health planning and implementation, health method evaluation and epidemiology. I have learned to support the world in disease prevention and developed a pandemic health program. I was very happy to support my country during the COVID-19 breakout in Kinshasa. People were amazing. I learned more skills about how to control this disease in my community.
The BYU-Pathway Worldwide program helped me to understand that we must be faithful and improve our skills to establish the kingdom of our Savior on the earth. This program increased my knowledge of the Savior and motivated me to gain more skills and to become more faithful.
Instead of dwelling on difficulties and struggle, I have learned to trust the Lord and to pursue my education at famous universities across the world. Today I am proud to say that I earned three university degrees: one from my country, one from India, and one from the United States. As a result, I have increased my income, my faith in Jesus Christ, and my skills in the field of public health.
The skills that I learned during my journey have helped me to build a health nongovernmental organization and work in mental health awareness in the DRC. My recent experience, when I was applying for a new job as a public health specialist at the Center for Disease Control in DRC, the human resources team was surprised that I have an American degree and I live in Congo, and it was easy for them to verify this from my diploma.
The hiring process was interesting and each step I went through, I learned to be ready due to the PathwayConnect program, preparing my CV and cover letter, enjoying the interview, and showing people my unique qualifications. I am grateful to my Heavenly Father for the opportunity He gave me to join the team of the Center for Disease Control in DRC to prevent, detect and control disease in my country.
As an African, we are blessed to have an American degree, serve our community, and strengthen the Church in our local area. BYU-Pathway Worldwide blesses my life, my family, and my country in this specific time. The program helped me to understand the principle of working hard quietly and to let your success be your noise.
Whatever level you are in life and whether you have a degree or not, please join the program and work hard, the Lord knows your effort and will assist you to gain a new degree and develop more skills and the world will pay you based on your education and skills.

As I was growing up, I perceived that I needed to be perfect to make it to heaven. So my whole life I worked at it. I felt that in order to be worthy, I needed to keep all the rules and commandments. My self-worth was tied to my accomplishments and achievements. If I got good grades, won the spelling bee, placed in the science fair, scored a goal, earned a bunch of merit badges, dove off the high-dive, made it into my high school choir, etc.—then I was able to feel good about myself. I was very judgmental of myself.

I also was overly concerned of what others thought about me and how I appeared to them, so I became really good at putting on a false front. I had to look like I had it all together, even though at times I was barely surviving because of the stress of maintaining that facade and keeping up with all of the expectations.

Of course, it’s impossible to be perfect in this life; countless prophets have told us that. But that didn’t stop me from trying. I had to-do lists, routines, and schedules. I figured that if I could just be extremely organized, then I could manage to get closer to perfection.

I thought that if I were ever going to make it to heaven, I’d have to earn my way there. The scriptures teach that we are all sinners and that no unclean thing can enter into the kingdom of heaven. So whenever I did something “bad,” it took a heavy toll on my self-worth, and I began to doubt that I could actually make it to heaven.

I learned about repentance and that it was possible because of the Savior’s Atonement, but it seemed to have a negative connotation. If I had to keep sinning and repenting, sinning and repenting my whole life, I’d never be able to check it off my list as something I had completed or accomplished, as if it were possible to someday be “done repenting” in this life.

...

I had a hard time feeling that I was worthy, unless I was working really hard at it. I didn't feel that God or others could really love me if I made mistakes. I felt that I was flawed, defective, and broken as a human being most of the time.

There were times when I felt better, like on my mission, or when I was a bishop. But much of my life, I have struggled to feel the Lord’s love.

Since those younger days, I’ve been getting a better handle on my perfectionism. If I could go back and talk with my younger self, here’s what I’d tell him: You have inherent worth as God’s son. He does want you to progress and become more like Him, but His love isn’t based on your obedience or your accomplishments. His love is infinite in every way. There’s nothing you could do to make Him stop loving you.

I had previously felt that my self-worth gauge went up and down like a little meter. If I made a mistake, the marker on the meter went down. Then I had to do something good to make the marker go up, like volunteer for a service project or read an extra chapter in the scriptures or do some family history or be a better friend or clean the house or something to make up for it. Now I know that my worth to God doesn’t fluctuate.

I also realize that the Savior’s Atonement covers not only my sins but also my inadequacies, my disappointments, my weaknesses, my infirmities, my carelessness, my lack of certain talents, and that it compensates for all of the trials, the unfairness, and bitterness of mortal life.

The next night after supper he went with Fitzie and some of his friends to play basketball in the school gym. They played for two hours.
Afterward they were all in the locker room. Kevin had already showered and was just putting on his shoes. The others were in various stages of getting dressed.
Suddenly the lights went out.
“Okay, who’s the clown?” Fitzie yelled. “Turn the lights back on!”
“I didn’t turn ’em off,” someone answered. “Where’s the light switch anyway? … Ow! My toe! … The switch doesn’t work.”
“There aren’t any lights anywhere in the building,” another voice added.
“Oh no,” Fitzie groaned, “another blackout. Do any of you guys have a lighter?”
“I do,” someone volunteered. “It’s in my shirt pocket if I can find it.” Kevin could make out a figure fumbling in a locker near him. “Here it is.”
A small glimmer of light shone in the otherwise dark room.
“Hurry up, you guys! I’m low on lighter fluid.” Kevin sat on the bench and watched unknown figures make use of the small light as they finished preparing to leave the room.
“Man, I never thought I’d be glad somebody had a cheap lighter,” a voice drawled.
“What do you mean, cheap lighter? It cost me two bucks.”
“Yeah, well it sure seems bright in here.”
Finally they were ready. “Kevin, what are you doing sitting there? Let’s get out of here.”
On Sunday Kevin went with Jenny to class, mainly to be with her. He had already discounted any possibility that their teacher could teach him anything, so he sat with his shoulders hunched over, his head down, wrestling with his problems.
It wasn’t until Sister Mattson called on him that he looked up. “Kevin,” she said, then read aloud from the manual, “this can best be seen by examining what the Savior said. Will you read Matthew, chapter 5, verses 14 through 16?” [Matt. 5:14–16]
Jenny loaned him her Bible and helped him find the reference. “‘Ye are the light of the world,’” Kevin began mechanically. “‘A city that is set on an hill cannot be hid. Neither do men light a candle, and put it under a bushel, but on a candlestick; and it giveth light …’” He stopped and stared at the words on the page.
“Yes, go on,” Sister Mattson urged.
“‘… and it giveth light unto all that are in the house.’”
“Kevin, there’s one more verse,” Jenny quietly prompted.
“‘Let your light so shine before men,’” he read slowly, “‘that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.’”
“Yes, and what can we learn from this scripture?” Sister Mattson asked.
He didn’t say anything. He pictured the small light in the darkened locker room and the dim figures of people moving around, each attracted by the light and using it as their reference point.
“Jenny, do you know what we can learn from this scripture?” Sister Mattson asked, thinking that Kevin did not have an answer.
“We can learn a lot,” Kevin said quietly, almost to himself. “The first thing is that in order to be a light, we have to live the commandments. You have to set your standards. You can’t re-decide what to do every time someone asks you to do something wrong. You’ve got to make a mental list: This is what I will do. This is what I won’t do. You have to decide what your life is going to mean, or it won’t mean a thing.”
“Thank you,” Sister Mattson said. “Now we should get on with the rest of the lesson.”
Kevin interrupted. “The problem is, I keep thinking that if I didn’t live here, it would be easier. It doesn’t really matter where you live. What matters is that you set your standards once and for all. If you do that, you can be a light.”
“Yes, thank you, and now we’d better get on to Ephesians,” Sister Mattson said.
“You’ve got to be a light to the people around you. Do you know how much light one small lighter can throw in a completely dark room?”
“No,” Jenny replied.
“Enough. That’s the point. Enough for everyone in the room to find his way out of the darkness. And the darker it is, the more the light is noticed. And people who enjoy the light will come nearer to it. That’s how I can find friends who will help me live my standards! We can gather friends around us who will help us, and the light will get even brighter.”
Sister Mattson by now was just looking at both of them.
“Do you know what I’m going to do?” Kevin burst out. “I’m going to memorize jokes from my brother’s Boy’s Life magazine. It has some of the corniest jokes in the world. Every time I hear someone starting a dirty joke, I’m going to bombard him with corny jokes. And I’m going to have a party of my own, at my house, with kids from school and the missionaries. In a nice friendly way, they’re going to know I’m a Mormon.”
“Thank you, Kevin,” Sister Mattson broke in. Turning to Jenny, she asked confidentially, “Jenny, what did he say?”
Jenny put her hand on his arm and answered proudly, “He said that he’s going to be okay.”
“How nice,” Sister Mattson said. “Well, we’d better get on with the rest of the lesson.” She looked at the page of the manual, paused, and then shut the book.
“No. I think Kevin’s story can teach us the same thing. What were you saying about the light in the dark room?”

Scripture and experience teaches us that where there is no vision, the people perish (Proverbs 29:18). Gertrude Ederle was a woman who knew the power of vision. Long before you were born she became the first woman to swim the English Channel, a feat accomplished in 1926. During her first attempt, after having swum 23 miles in eight hours, some of her support crew thought she was choking when in fact she was just coughing but it was too late, someone reached out and touched her and she was immediately disqualified. Did she give up? No, she planned a second attempt, trained hard and got right back into the water. Before the swim Gertrude was smeared with sheep grease in an attempt to keep out the cold channel sea and as she waded into the choppy water at a little after seven in the morning she quietly said, “Please, God, help me.” A car had been offered to the first woman to swim the 21 mile channel and Gertrude pictured herself driving that red convertible with its white side walled tires in the streets of New York. As she swam her support crew held up signs as the miles clicked by, which read, one wheel, and then two wheels and then a third. As this 20-year-old young woman swam, the tide turned, driving rains began to fall and mountainous waves rose up and for every three stokes forward she was carried back two. The sheep grease was soon gone and fatigue was taking its toll. At one point she rolled onto her back to rest and her support crew motioned to her that all was lost; the task could not be completed. As they reached to take her from the water she saw in her mind’s eye that red convertible and pulled away to swim again. She recounted that her arms felt as heavy as lead as she took one strength draining stroke after another until finally her feet touched the sandy shores of England. She had in fact swum no less than 35 miles that day in 14 hours and 30 minutes and what carried her to success? It was her vision that it could be done, the preparations she made, her work ethic and let us not forget her short but sincere prayer. Create your vision and then go to work with your tomorrow in mind. Whatever you decide to be in life, have the vision of being the very best at it and never give up that vision no matter how big the seas of opposition may become.

I think also of the experience of my wife and me and our family. We began just as you are. I recall coming here as a freshman. I was twenty-three years old as a freshman. I knew right away I had to get married in a hurry! I saw all these young people on the campus; I felt like an old man at twenty-three. Then I found a lovely young lady who had a testimony of the truth and who didn’t care if I was old—she still agreed! Well, we were married while I was a freshman, and we had some goals that we set: some of them were voiced, some of them were kind of within our hearts and never really expressed openly to each other, but there was one goal that we set that I’m very proud of—the goal that we would be a family, that she would be home, and that she would care for the home and the children. You know, when you’re living on $84 a month, sometimes that’s not easy. But then we got a raise and I went up to $110 a month. We felt better, but then of course we had our first child, and he pretty well took the $20 a month that we earned. But that goal of being a family was very important to us and we held to it.

We also had a goal to graduate, and we did it. I say “we” because I’m very sure that my graduation was as much my wife’s fault as it was mine! When we graduated and took our first job, we thought now’s the time—we’ll go out in the world and make some money. Then we’ll really be able to live. We discovered when we got out in the world that money didn’t go any farther there than it did on campus. In fact, sometimes I wondered if it went as far.

One day my wife asked me a staggering question that startled me a little bit. She said, “Now, Rex, what are you really going to be?”

I kind of laughed because I thought, “What do you mean, ‘What am I really going to be?’ I’m a teacher. I teach in the school right across the street. Surely you can see what I’m going to be!”

But she wasn’t content with that kind of an answer. She said, “What do you really want to be? What are your goals, your objectives in life?” I realized that I had never shared them with her. It kind of hurt, and I realized that it had probably hurt her as well. So we talked about our family and then decided what we’d have to do with our lives in order to accomplish that. Our desire was to be of service to the Lord and be where he wanted us to be when he wanted us to be there. Well, in order to accomplish that we had to have an income, and so we set our goals in line with that thinking. It meant moving, and we did. It meant being in school for thirteen years—just thought I’d encourage those of you who have been here a day or two! My children thought that that’s all daddy did—go to school. He went to school in the morning to teach, and he went to school at night to learn. Daddy was always going to school as far as they were concerned. But those goals were secondary to family, secondary to maintaining the family unit. We discovered something, my young friends. We discovered that the Lord has plans for you, too. As long as your plans are consistent with the eternal objectives, then the plans of the Lord can be manifest in your own lives.

I felt that joy when I heard about the efforts of a brave group of firefighters who fought to save a burning stake center in Southern California in 2015. As the fire raged, a battalion commander called an LDS friend to ask where the sacred relics and sacrament cups were kept so they could be saved. His friend assured him that there were no sacred relics and that the sacrament cups were actually very, very replaceable. But the commander felt he should do more, so he sent firefighters back into the burning building to pull every painting of Christ off of the walls that they might be preserved. They even placed one in the firetruck in the hope that the firefighters might be watched over. I was truly touched by the commander’s kindness, goodness, and sensitivity to the Light during a dangerous and difficult time.

A young friend of mine had a father who was serving as bishop. He often said he wished his dad was not the bishop so he could sit with the family in sacrament meetings and could spend more time at home and with the family. As the years passed, my friend changed his mind. He honored his father because he had served well as a bishop and the family had really learned more in many respects and had shared rich spiritual experiences that would not have come had the father been with the family more instead of being bishop. The son honored his father and his father’s Church calling, just as he honors the memories of that wonderful man.

If you were out for a drive in Rockledge, Florida, and happened to turn onto Faull Lane, you probably wouldn’t think twice about what you saw. Sure, the houses in the neighborhood are neat and clean looking, and the yards are well kept. But there’s nothing particularly unusual about them. Except, perhaps, for number 812.
Was that house there last week? Yesterday?
You think about it for a minute and realize that not long ago, there was nothing where that house is now standing but an empty lot. You’re almost certain that the house, complete with a fully finished yard, was nothing but a patch of dusty ground just a few weeks before. But how does a house appear out of nowhere?
Flash back to a very warm summer afternoon in Cocoa, Florida, at the Cocoa stake center. Ashley Foss, a Laurel, is giving what amounts to a pep talk to the youth from the Cocoa and Orlando South stakes.
“Remember, Florida is the Sunshine State,” she says. “It’s going to be hot tomorrow, so be ready and bring a squirt bottle!”
Ashley goes on to give other good advice for the outdoor activity they’re planning—like wearing clothes that can get dirty, drinking plenty of water, using sunscreen. Then Ashley delivers the clincher.
“It usually takes seven or eight months to build a house, and we’re going to do it in a day!”
Building a house in one day. They’ve been hearing about it for months, and the next day it will finally materialize.
Although the room is warm and the youth are perhaps a bit drowsy, there is a real change in the feeling in the room.
But you need a lot more than smiles and enthusiasm to build a house—especially when you’re doing it for youth conference. In fact, in many stakes a project like this wouldn’t be possible. But the Cocoa Stake is home to a lot of adults who are experts in construction, so with their help, the youth committee decided to give it a try. The young men and young women teamed up with Habitat for Humanity, a Christian organization dedicated to building decent housing for families who couldn’t otherwise afford it.
Sara Judd, a Laurel on the youth committee, was in charge of finding donors for materials, goods, and services to be used during the building. But where do you go when you have to find things like a crane, bottled water, T-shirts, two-way radios, sod and landscaping materials, tents, tables, chairs, and portable rest rooms? With items that diverse, there’s not exactly a place for one-stop shopping.
“Brother [Kerry] Gilger, the stake Young Men president, and I opened up the yellow pages at one of the youth committee meetings,” says Sara. “We made a list of the businesses that might be willing to donate something, and then we started making phone calls.”
Because many of the people Sara and the others on the committee worked with were members of other faiths, the project wasn’t just a good leadership and organizational skills builder; it was also a great missionary project.
“I went to all the Habitat for Humanity meetings we were required to attend as part of this project,” says Sara, who used her involvement as a Laurel project. “I learned a lot. Many of the people involved, including the family we were building for, were from different religious faiths. It was neat to work together toward the same goal.”
Although the homes built by Habitat for Humanity are simple and relatively small, construction usually takes at least a few months. But the youth committee knew that youth conference wouldn’t last longer than a few days. Their solution? Get the house done, start to finish, in one day.
“A ‘blitz build’ like this has been done before in other areas,” says Logan Newby, a priest on the youth committee. “But the people in charge of the Habitat chapter here weren’t sure that we could do it, especially with so many teenagers helping. We knew it would be great, and that everyone would really get into it, so we made a plan and presented it.”
The plan included an early start, 6:00 A.M., and a solution for every conceivable problem. For instance, most teenagers don’t know the first thing about building a house. So the youth were divided into groups and then paired with skilled laborers—people who volunteered to work for free—to oversee everything they did. There were so many teens involved that they couldn’t all work on the house at the same time, leaving them with a lot of time that wasn’t filled. No problem. The youth committee devised other projects to work on, things like putting in the yard, building a shed, and cleaning nearby vacant lots. Finally, there were countless safety issues to be addressed. That seemed to be the highest hurdle to clear.
“We thought that might be the end of this idea,” says Sara. “But the police, the Red Cross, and a local ambulance service all donated their time to help us. Once that was taken care of, we were ready to go.”
On the day of the build, more than 300 teens are up before the sun. In the darkness, the cement foundation—poured a few days earlier to give it time to cure—is barely visible. By the time the sun is shining, the cement is surrounded by studs, and the framework for the roof is being put on. Skilled laborers do the technical work, while teenagers happily sweep, nail, and paint where they are told.
By lunch, the house is starting to take shape. Housing inspectors are on hand to approve each phase of the project as it is finished. And though it’s scorching hot, smiles are seen all around.
“I think everyone really likes coming together for something like this. It makes us feel good to be here, helping a family out,” says Mia Maid Kristin Turley.
By mid-afternoon, youth are helping with finish work. One paints trim; another helps put house numbers on. One even tests the porch light to make sure it’s working. Soon, kitchen cabinets and fixtures are installed by an expert. He is cleaned up after by several broom-toting teenagers.
Later on, most everyone helps lay sod. A few people plant flowers and trees, and everyone—plants and people—gets a long drink of water.
By this time, some of the local media have come to see what all the excitement is about. Other important people in town have come to see, too. A few of them, including Rockledge Mayor, Jack Oats, even roll up their sleeves and help.
“These kids are unbelievable,” says the mayor. “With kids like this, who aren’t afraid to talk about and live what they believe in, we don’t have to worry about the future.”
Soon the building inspector comes for a last walk-through. He declares it not only up to code but one of the most soundly built houses he has ever seen.
At 6:00 P.M., just 12 hours after the project began, there is a house standing where there was just an empty lot. The youth gather in the yard and watch as the homeowner, Karol DeKlercq, is presented the keys to her new house.
“Your love will forever be a part of our lives,” she says. “For the rest of my life and as my [four] children grow and their hands touch all you have built, the prints of your love will forever be there.”
There are tears in just about everybody’s eyes as the reality of what has happened sinks in. The DeKlercq family had previously rented a house that had fallen into disrepair, and they had no hope of ever having a place of their own. They now have 1,200 square feet—three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, a living room, and an eating area—to call home.
Every time a new house is finished, representatives from Habitat for Humanity present the homeowner with a Bible to keep as a family treasure. This time, in addition to the Bible, the family also received a triple combination and a framed copy of The Family: A Proclamation to the World.
After these gifts have been given and the youth have a chance to hug or congratulate Karol, they load up into waiting vans and head for a park where a well-deserved barbecue is being prepared. After they leave, the neighborhood is still—the first time all day that the hubbub has quieted down to anything less than a dull roar.
After the dust has settled and the youth and their leaders have had a few days to rest, they’ll meet and discuss the conference. They’ll talk about things that were successful, things that could have been done differently. But by all accounts, the project was a huge hit.
“I love missionary work, and I love service,” says Laurel Kelli Baker. “What could be more fun than a youth conference project that combines both of them?”
And so when you’re taking that drive through a small neighborhood in the middle of Florida, you can be sure that your eyes aren’t playing tricks on you. Yes, that house did spring up overnight.
To be sure, the lot the house sits on is a fairly ordinary piece of land, nothing special really. Nothing special unless you consider what the helping hands of hundreds of teenagers accomplished there: they’ve given a family a place to call home.

During the annual First Presidency Christmas Devotional in December 2004, members of the First Presidency taught and testified of the Savior’s significance and encouraged members to make the Lord’s life their example.
“God be thanked for the gift of His glorious Son, the only perfect man ever to walk the earth,” said President Gordon B. Hinckley. “There is none to excel Him. There is none to compare with Him. He is the great example for all of us, our revered teacher and, most importantly, our Redeemer.”
Members of the Church tuned in to the annual devotional by satellite, Internet, television, and radio to watch or listen as the First Presidency, the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, and the Orchestra at Temple Square focused on the Savior.
“Our Conference Center here in Salt Lake City is filled with people, and our image, as we speak, travels … across the earth—to lands of winter and lands of summer,” President Hinckley said. “We are all together as one great family to sing and speak of the joys of Christmas.”
He Lives
President Hinckley taught of the Savior’s mortal life from beginning to end, from birth to Atonement. “Let us never forget as we celebrate Christmas with song and story, with gifts and mundane baubles, the greater message that Jesus Christ, the Firstborn of the Father, came into the world that ‘the world through him might be saved’ (John 3:17).
“Let us remember always that through His infinite Atonement salvation will come to all, and the opportunity for exaltation will be afforded those who walk in obedience to His commandments.”
President Hinckley also testified of the Savior’s continued ministry after His death and in years to come: “He has come again to usher in a dispensation. And He will come yet again in clouds of glory to usher in a millennium and reign as King of Kings and Lord of Lords.”
The President of the Church also honored the Prophet Joseph Smith, born 199 years ago. President Hinckley added his testimony to that of the dispensation’s first prophet regarding the Savior, saying, “He lives, resplendent, magnificent, the wondrous Lord Immanuel. He lives, the Eternal Son of the Ever Living Father. He lives, the Great Creator, the Jehovah of the Old Testament, the Savior of the New, the Wondrous Light in a dark and troubled world. He lives to bless us, to teach us, to heal us, to touch our troubled hearts, to give substance to our greatest dreams, to assure the immortality of our souls.”
In His Footsteps
President Thomas S. Monson, First Counselor in the First Presidency, explained that “to catch the real meaning of the Spirit of Christmas, we need only drop the last syllable, and it becomes the Spirit of Christ.”
He testified: “With the birth of the babe in Bethlehem, there emerged a great endowment, a power stronger than weapons, a wealth more lasting than the coins of Caesar. … Born in a stable, cradled in a manger, He came forth from heaven to live on earth as mortal man and to establish the kingdom of God. His glorious gospel reshaped the thinking of the world.
“At this blessed season of the year, as we follow in the Savior’s footsteps, we too will have an opportunity to bless the lives of others.”
President Monson taught: “There is no better time than now … for all of us to rededicate ourselves to the principles taught by Jesus the Christ.”
Agents of God
President James E. Faust, Second Counselor in the First Presidency, related the story of a man who had no money to buy his father a Christmas gift during the Great Depression, so he gave him a diary in which he had recorded a good deed he had done every day that year.
“We are each the agents of our Father in Heaven to do Christlike deeds for [the] Father’s children, even as [the Savior] offered to do in the grand premortal council when He said, ‘Here am I, send me’ (Abr. 3:27). ‘Father, thy will be done, and the glory be thine forever’ (Moses 4:2).”

In March of this year, my wife and I had the privilege of taking some invited guests on a tour of the new Kinshasa Democratic Republic of the Congo Temple during the open house prior to its dedication.
As we stood in the beautiful temple baptistry, one of these guests asked an intriguing question. He said something like this: “In our tribal traditions, our ancestors are so important to us—how is it that you connect your families together through the generations?” It was a beautiful teaching moment as we then shared how in a gift of love and service, many faithful members of the Church perform vital ordinances, such as baptisms, on behalf of loved ones who have died. We then took him to the sealing room where we showed him the altar where families are united for the eternities and had him look into the mirrors which face one another—symbolic of the eternal links made between past and future generations.
This good man had many follow up questions and left the temple deeply affected by what he had seen and felt. He eagerly took a copy of the My Family booklet so he could collect names and stories of his own ancestors. With great sincerity he expressed gratitude for being in the temple and left with a new understanding of God’s plan for eternal families and the importance of sacred temples in that plan.
Another guest was so moved by the feelings of peace he had felt while sitting reverently in the celestial room that he asked: “I am a Catholic, but can I still come back to the temple to pray with your members, because I have felt so good in this special place of worship?” We invited him to bring his family as often as he wanted during the open house but explained that coming to the temple after it had been dedicated would require him to be a faithful member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

I noticed a gradual change in our son Jacob’s attitude his first year of junior high school (names have been changed). He was a good young man, but he became rude and rebellious at times. He seemed obsessed with television, video games, and the Internet. He fought us continually over doing his homework, keeping his room clean, and helping around the house. I had seen the same thing happen with our older children as they became teenagers, but I felt this was more serious. I knew from painful personal experience how some children turn away from the Church as they grow up. I fervently prayed to know how to protect our youngest son and our whole family from the evil influences in the world.
I certainly didn’t expect a miracle that Sunday in November as I sat down at the back of the Relief Society class. Sister Randall, a counselor in the Relief Society presidency, announced that the lesson topic was scripture study, and I was struck by a feeling of weary guilt as I thought of my own family. “Not another lesson on scripture study,” I thought. “I’m doing the best I can.”
My husband is a good husband and father who has always loved his family dearly, but he couldn’t be bothered with family scripture study. We had prayer with the children, and we tried to hold family home evening regularly. But whenever I suggested family scripture study, he refused to consider it. Because I felt it was so important, I read the scriptures with each of my children at night before tucking them into bed. I didn’t know what more I could do.
Lately, however, whenever I came in to read scriptures with Jacob, more often than not he said: “Oh, not now. I’m too tired [or busy or whatever; he had a hundred excuses]. I’ll read them by myself.” Whenever we didn’t read scriptures together and I’d ask about it the next morning, he would always say he had somehow “forgotten” to do it. I wondered how far to push scripture study when he could hear his father watching television in the other room.
As Sister Randall began her lesson, I expected to hear yet another story of how a “perfect family” enjoys scripture study. Instead, Sister Randall began telling a story from the Old Testament: “Numbers 21 tells about fiery serpents attacking the Israelites as they journeyed toward the promised land. Many people were bitten by the serpents and died. Seeing the terrible destruction, the Israelites repented and asked Moses to pray for the Lord to take the serpents from them and to heal them.”
In my mind’s eye I visualized our family journeying through life and suddenly being attacked by fiery serpents in the form of our own latter-day vipers: crime, drugs, pornography, immorality. I felt as helpless as the Israelites.
Sister Randall explained how the Lord told Moses to make a brass serpent (symbolic of Christ) and put it on a staff. Then Moses promised the people that anyone who had been bitten by a serpent had only to look at the brass serpent and he or she would live. Despite the simplicity of this promise, Alma tells us that “there were many who were so hardened that they would not look, therefore they perished. Now the reason they would not look is because they did not believe that it would heal them” (Alma 33:20).
Sister Randall told us that although in our day the fiery serpents take a different form, we too can look to Christ and be saved. In our day prophets have told us to read our scriptures daily, both personally and with our families; to have personal and family prayers; to attend our meetings; to pay tithing; to repent; to be worthy to attend the temple; and to have family home evening. This is our way to look to Christ and be healed.
At first the simplicity of the concept seemed too easy to protect us from life’s daily temptations. But as Sister Randall talked, my heart was touched, and I felt the Lord speaking to me through her. I realized it was simply a matter of faith. Did I believe the words of today’s prophets and apostles, or would I turn away, as many Israelites turned away from the brass serpent?
I went home from church determined to help my family be strengthened by family prayer and scripture study. I prayed for weeks that my husband would soften his heart. I fasted. I had a special family home evening and invited our less-active married son and his family to join us. We learned about Moses and the fiery serpents. Finally, one night I asked my husband if we could begin the new year by studying the scriptures as a family. And on New Year’s Day he began to lead us in daily scripture study.
Our family didn’t become perfect overnight, but I was amazed at how much our home atmosphere improved. We had less contention and a sweeter spirit in the home. I didn’t lose my temper or get discouraged nearly as often. I felt a closeness to my husband and to the Lord that astonished me. It was Jacob’s attitude, however, that changed the most. He began to remind us all that we must have family scripture study, and he willingly took his turn to read.
I realized anew the wisdom of following the prophets and relying on their promises. I have a testimony of the truth of these words from President James E. Faust (1920–2007), Second Counselor in the First Presidency: “It often takes a superhuman effort for parents of a busy family to get everyone out of bed and together for family prayer and scripture study. You may not always feel like praying when you finally get together, but it will pay great dividends if you persevere.”

The essential service fast offering funds perform is illustrated by the case of a widow and her three young children who went to their bishop for help. They had no money and were indebted to many of the businesses in town. The bishop wrote to her creditors, explaining the situation; fifteen of them made adjustments in the bill of at least fifty percent. Over the next three months, by the use of several hundred dollars in fast offerings, many debts were repaid. This assistance proved to be a great boost for the family—both financially and spiritually. In the months and years that followed, the family was able to function on sound economic principles. Both boys served missions; all three children were married in the temple. The availability of fast offerings at the right time, managed wisely, helped this family to once again live a normal life.

One day, Mom and I were looking for shoes that I could wear to church. We had looked in several stores, but I hadn’t found any that I really wanted. As we turned to leave a store, I noticed an elderly woman with a cane. Pain showed on her face when she bent over to try to get a pair of shoes from the bottom shelf.
I rushed over to her and smiled at her and asked if I could help. She stood up gratefully and smiled back at me. I got several pairs of shoes for her and waited patiently while she looked over each pair. When she was finished, she thanked me sincerely for helping her.
I hadn’t seen Mom come over to us, but the lady did. She asked Mom, “Is this your daughter?” She told Mom what I had done and expressed her gratitude. I felt warm and happy inside. Later, Mom told me that she could picture Jesus’ eyes filling with compassion when He saw the elderly woman. She said that I was trying to be like Jesus.
Even though neither the elderly woman nor I found shoes in that store, I found out that caring for one another is much more important.

Contrast that to the scene which I viewed in Munich, Germany, many years ago. It was a Sunday morning, and we were en route to a missionary conference. As I looked out the window of the mission president’s automobile, I saw a shepherd with a staff in his hand, leading the sheep. They followed him wherever he went. If he moved to the left, they followed him to the left. If he moved to the right, they followed him in that direction. I made the comparison between the true shepherd who led his sheep and the sheepherder who rode casually behind his sheep.

Throughout my school years I never lacked for friends; in fact, I spent a lot of time with my friends. But the one who was always my confidante and whom I could always go to with any concern or discussion was my mother. I realize this may seem a bit unusual, but at the early age of two, I lost my father as a result of a construction accident. So my mother and I grew very close together, not only in a parent-child relationship but as best friends.

There is a living God who loves us and is constantly nearby and available. Doubt need not be part of our lives. The reality of God’s influence is felt by all Church members who comply with divine laws. It can also be tangibly felt by nonmembers, when it is his will. This is evidenced by the following experience in the São Paulo Temple.

The temple was opened to the public during the month of September 1978 before being closed in preparation for the dedication. Among the many visitors who felt the influence of this special temple was a certain nonmember newspaper reporter.

During the tour he eventually arrived at the door of the celestial room. Those few people who were accompanying him saw him abruptly stop and bow his head. He remained in that position for some time, with his eyes closed and head bowed. Then he slowly moved his head from side to side and at the same time opened his eyes, as if to inquire by this gesture “Who is there?” or “Is anyone there?”

After some time his head was raised and his eyes opened. His expression indicated that he knew something holy was there, and those about him witnessed the tears streaming down his face. He had felt the beautiful influence of the Spirit found so often in the temples. He knew something good was there and felt joy inside. It was a real, tangible feeling.

I would like to share another of the challenges I have faced in my life. I started as faculty at BYU when I had one daughter at home and was expecting a second daughter. The first few years as faculty are grueling and overwhelming—at least they were for me. When my second daughter was several months old, I was struggling. I felt numb. It was hard to feel any emotion, especially hope. At this time, I continued pushing to do the things I knew helped me be the best I could be. I kept praying, even though I didn’t feel much response. I kept reading my scriptures, even though I didn’t feel anything. One day I was reading Nephi’s psalm,15 and a section of it stood out to me:

Awake, my soul! No longer droop in sin. Rejoice, O my heart, and give place no more for the enemy of my soul.
Do not anger again because of mine enemies. Do not slacken my strength because of mine afflictions.
Rejoice, O my heart, and cry unto the Lord, and say: O Lord, I will praise thee forever; yea, my soul will rejoice in thee, my God, and the rock of my salvation.16

When I read this, I didn’t feel a connection. I didn’t feel the Spirit. But I remember thinking intellectually, “Hmm, I should feel a connection to this. This seems like what I want to happen to me. I want my soul to feel awake. I don’t want to be burdened. Why can I not connect?”

I wrote the verses that I wanted to feel and put them on my cookbook stand in the kitchen. In hindsight, I can see this as a toehold the Savior created to help me scale this seemingly insurmountable cliff. At the time, all I could do was encourage myself to look at the toehold. I couldn’t attempt to use it. For months I would read these words in my kitchen, sometimes in casual passing, sometimes forcing myself to focus on them. During this time, I also met with my doctor, was diagnosed with postpartum depression, and started treatment.

Over time, this plea of Nephi’s became my plea. I was able to use this toehold, this connection to my Savior, and I slowly started to make the same heartfelt plea for my soul to awake. Eventually, these verses became precious to me, and I felt them in my soul. As I read them now, years later, they are a reminder to me that my Heavenly Father didn’t forget me. At a time when I couldn’t feel or hear His Spirit, He used another part of my brain—a clinical, logical part—to help me identify a scriptural passage that I could work toward feeling a connection with. When I couldn’t come up with hope myself, He gave me Nephi’s words to use as my goal.

Do not become blinded by common solutions. Be creative in identifying ways to press through or across your challenges. When struggling with postpartum depression, I asked to serve in the nursery. My bishop was surprised. But once I began serving in nursery, I suddenly wanted to be at church—those little children needed me. They often weren’t old enough to talk, so I didn’t have to worry about carrying on conversations. I could just go and be who I was at that moment and receive the gift of love from little ones in the form of a smile or a hug or sometimes a half-eaten Goldfish cracker.

Once I was helping my brother clean his room. He got frustrated with me and threw his soccer cleats at me. That made me angry. Later, when we were in our pajamas, I noticed a tan spot on my brother’s shoulder. I looked closer and saw that it was a scorpion! I remembered the soccer cleats and wondered if I should tell him about the scorpion or not. I decided not to, but then I thought, “He is my brother, no matter what.” So I told him and told my mom too. She flicked the scorpion off his shoulder. I’m glad I made the right choice.

When I was in high school I was determined to be the heavyweight boxing champion of the world. These were depression days, and that was the only quick way I knew to a million dollars. I was a big boy, and in some amateur bouts in high school, I had won with ease. Visions of what I would have in just a few short years lured me on. Yet, I realized vaguely that I had not had very much competition and that I probably needed some expert coaching before becoming the “logical contender.”
When a wiry little man moved in next door, and I got a look at his face, I felt my needed help was at hand. I ran out to help him move in, and the first question I asked him was, “Are you a fighter?” He kind of grinned and said, “It does show, doesn’t it, son? Yes, I’ve had seventy or eighty pro bouts.”
I said, “I’m a fighter!” He looked at me and said, “Well, you’re big enough.” I continued, “I haven’t had any real instruction, though. Could you give me a few pointers? I’ve won all my bouts so far.” After a moment’s hesitation, he replied, “Well, okay. Come on over to my garage one of these days.”
I did not wait for one of these days. I was over that afternoon. He smiled a little at my eagerness but finally managed to locate some big sparring gloves. He weighed about 120 to 125 pounds; I came close to 190. I stripped off my shirt and said, “I kind of outweigh you a little, don’t I?” He didn’t reply to that, but as he laced his gloves, he said, “Now, son, I fight from instinct. I can’t think before I hit you. If I see an opening I’ll nail you. I want you to understand that if I hit you a little harder than you think I ought to, I’m not doing it on purpose.” I said, “Oh, sure, I’ll take it easy on you, too.” He looked up at me, and he didn’t smile. He just said, “Don’t worry about it, son.”
The rest of the story is merely pitiful. I didn’t touch him—I didn’t touch him. Suddenly, after about a minute, when I was obviously wide open and didn’t realize it, he hit me on the point of the chin. His huge sparring glove felt as if it had an iron bar in it. I went down like a sack of meal. I was not quite knocked out, but I was pretty dazed. As my head cleared and I looked up, he was taking off his gloves. I jumped up and said, “Oh, come on! I know the difference between an amateur and a pro, now, but you can help me.” He kept shaking his head and taking off his gloves. The vision of a million dollars began to fade. Almost in a panic I reached for him and asked, “Won’t you help me?” He shook himself free.
Just then a bright young fly came winging by. He reached out and captured it. He said, “Now, son, you grab the next fly.” A moment or so later a senile old fly came within range, and I made a couple of passes at it. I didn’t come close to grabbing it. He said, “That’s what’s wrong with you, son. Your reflexes aren’t fast enough. They never will be. There’s nothing you can do about that, boy. You’re kinda tall; have you ever thought of playing basketball?”
I stumbled home, my whole world crashing about me. My mother was ill in bed, as she had been a good deal of her life. Actually, it was the last summer she lived. I was feeling pretty sorry for myself. I went in and told her what had happened. I said, “Why did it have to be this way for me? Why aren’t my reflexes faster?” As I went on complaining about this, I guess my mother got a little tired of it. She was in pain, and finally she said, very firmly, “Oh, Bobby, what you have is enough!”
Nothing my mother ever said to me has been so useful. “What you have is enough.” If you feel weak and inadequate, may I insist that what you have is enough, provided that—in the memorable phrase of Henry James—you are “the kind of a person on whom nothing is lost.” You never need be as ignorant as you are today, never as awkward or ill-prepared. You can capitalize on such strengths as you have and move forward positively.