Gospel Story Finder

When I discovered that my beloved eternal companion had become ensnared by pornography, I experienced the intense pain a wife in such a situation suffers. It is a deep sense of soul sickness, betrayal, and spiritual agony. It feels like the very roots of a precious eternal marriage have been yanked out of the safety and protection of gospel ground and, exposed to all the elements, begin to wilt and die. There is a sense of panic. The safety and peace of the marriage relationship evaporate. Trust, respect, honor, love, priesthood—all are deeply injured.
For some months I had known something was not right. My husband and I had always been close, and our marriage had been very happy. But now there was an emotional distance, a barrier of some kind between us.
My husband loved the gospel and had been strong and faithful, but now he seemed distant from the Lord. He seemed to have lost his desire to participate in the sacrament and to attend the temple. I rarely saw him on his knees in personal prayer, and his heart did not seem to be in our family prayers and scripture study. There was a darkness about him, and he seemed deeply unhappy, even angry inside.
I was so frightened—for him and for us—because I suspected Internet pornography. He had been spending a lot of time on the Internet alone in his office, especially late at night, and he kept his computer password-protected. I tried to talk to him about this, though I hardly knew how to go about it. He fiercely denied having a problem, attributing his behavior to work-related stress.
On occasion I would read a quote by the Brethren about the evils of pornography, and my husband would agree heartily with what was said, even making perceptive comments. And he assured me that he loved me. Yet I could not shake the feeling that there was a serious problem. Although I prayed for him and kept his name on the temple prayer roll, I could feel my precious husband slipping from the safety of the gospel.
Finally, believing the scriptures that say “ask, and ye shall receive” (see, for example, John 16:24; 3 Nephi 27:29), I went to Heavenly Father, pleading to know what was wrong. This was not easy for me, for if the problem was what I suspected, I did not know how I would deal with it. How I hoped he was not involved in pornography! But I knew that whatever the problem was, Heavenly Father would help my husband and me. I asked for humility and courage to change whatever I needed to change in myself. I told Heavenly Father how much I loved my husband and how I wanted our marriage to be joyful and eternal. I made a commitment to attend the temple weekly, fasting for my husband.
Within only a few weeks, my husband, sick with the flu, went to bed, leaving his computer on. As I started to shut it down, I suddenly felt I should check it. There was the pornography.
In the midst of the flood of feelings that nearly overwhelmed me, I knew my discovery was an answer to my prayers. I don’t know how long I was on my knees or how long my cheeks were wet with tears, but as I poured out my heart to Heavenly Father, the comfort made possible by the Atonement of our Savior began to fill my soul. My pain and fear were lifted. Spiritual insights flowed into my mind and heart. I saw that my husband and I and our eternal marriage were precious to Heavenly Father, and I knew that He would help us.
Us. I understood with great clarity that this was not my husband’s problem alone. I could not, must not, passively stand by and hope he would conquer the problem by himself. I needed to be an active participant in this battle. It would not be easy, but if I continued to be faithful and obedient, trusting in the Lord, I would not fight alone.
As I prayed I saw my husband in a different light, a brighter light. I already knew he had overcome much adversity in his life, and now I saw that he was willing to fight for his eternal life and our eternal marriage. I saw his underlying love and faith in Heavenly Father and the Savior and his love for me, but I also saw that love, faith, and trust were not always easy for him to develop.
I saw that I should help him develop trust in Heavenly Father and the Savior. Such trust would give him the strength to face this addiction head on by going to Heavenly Father in humble prayer to plead for forgiveness, strength, and release from the demon that plagued him.
Empowered by the Lord, I began to take steps. I discontinued our Internet service, feeling strongly impressed that if my husband was to heal, he needed to get away from the temptation. Others in this situation may receive a different answer, but for us, discontinuing our Internet service for a time was a great blessing. Once my husband was away from the temptation for a few days, he acknowledged how much this had helped him. He told me he had tried to overcome this sin alone and thought he was strong enough. Then, as he failed, he felt ashamed and tried to hide his sin from me and from God. But now he was feeling hope! We cried together. We prayed together.
We asked for a priesthood blessing from a dear friend, the man who had baptized my husband years before. In the blessing my husband was assured several times that the Lord loved him. He was counseled to trust and confide in me, and he was blessed with the ability to know right from wrong—a great help, as pornography use warps a person’s moral judgment.
This blessing strengthened both of us. I continued my own increased personal spiritual efforts: frequent fasting, much prayer, temple attendance, and immersion in the scriptures, especially the Book of Mormon. Our scripture study and prayers together began to be sweet again.
Knowing that I needed to acquire knowledge by my own efforts as well as through prayer, I read everything I could find from General Authorities regarding pornography, and I also read material written by Latter-day Saint professionals. My husband and I counseled with our priesthood leaders, who encouraged our efforts and expressed their faith that we would win this battle.
I felt impressed to talk frankly with my husband. I never underplayed or made any excuses for his sin. I talked with him about this subject only according to what came to me in prayer and only when the time felt right. I received so much guidance and inspiration!
If my hurt resurfaced—and it did on occasion, especially at first—I took it to Heavenly Father in prayer. I made extra efforts to show my husband that my love for him was deep. He needed to know we were a team and that together we would fight the enemy. His wife, his best friend, would stand by him. What a sweet experience it was for me to see his repentance process bringing light back into his life!
I loved my husband for the strong, good man I knew he was. From my reading I knew that pornography use robs a person of feelings of self-worth, so I did all I could to help him rebuild faith in himself. I also learned to acknowledge my failures and weaknesses to my husband more readily than I had before, and I asked for his advice and counsel more often. I was humbled and grateful for his insights and support. This strengthened us both.
I worked hard to share many positive, fun experiences with my husband. I wanted to let the light in so he could feel and savor the difference. We went on many walks and took peaceful drives in the country, enjoying the beauty of God’s creations. I felt this would help fortify him against temptation if it came again and would help refocus our lives on the good and the beautiful.
Then the company my husband worked for began struggling and edged toward bankruptcy. Many lost their jobs, including my husband. This was emotionally devastating for him, yet we were confident that with his background and skills, he would soon find another job.
We were wrong. Months went by with no job. It became harder for him to ward off discouragement. My husband was very vulnerable. I knew this but didn’t know what more to do. We had resumed Internet service but with filtering. He was home while I worked, spending a lot of time on the Internet searching for jobs. One day he disabled the filter—never assume that a computer-literate person cannot bypass any filtering! I discovered the relapse quickly. At first I felt frightened. Would we have to start all over again? Then I realized my husband had made it easy for me to discover what he had done. He really wanted to overcome this! Again we cried and prayed together, and we drew even closer to one another.
As I prayed, the familiar calming assurance came. I felt we would overcome this problem. We realized this addiction was stronger than we had thought. My husband agreed to use the Internet only when we were both home. Only I would have the password until he felt stronger.
One great blessing that came to him at this time was that he found a temporary job that led to the good job he has now. My husband felt grateful for this blessing, which he saw as evidence of Heavenly Father’s tender mercies in his life.
When my husband had stayed away from pornography long enough, according to the time frame set by our bishop, his temple recommend was renewed. While he had certainly tasted the bitterness of sin, the joy he felt in his repentance was as exquisite as Alma expresses (see Alma 36:21). I still remember the bounce in his step as he came out of the bishop’s office. A heavy burden had been lifted.
As I write this years later, my heart still overflows with gratitude for the many blessings that came out of this experience. My husband’s love for Heavenly Father and the Savior has grown immeasurably, as has his faith. He has more humility. We both have a deeper appreciation for the Savior’s Atonement. With Heavenly Father and the Savior to lean on, we overcame a real and powerful Goliath. We face the future hand in hand, knowing that with trust in the Lord, we can overcome all things.

I trudged back from the bathroom, my stomach rumbling and my head pounding. Falling back into bed, I grimaced. For the second time in two months, I was sick with a stomach virus. I had missed school classes and work. I could hear others having a good time and laughing in the kitchen, but I was curled up in bed, feeling miserable.
I pulled the blankets tighter around me and turned to face the wall. I was frustrated, but I didn’t know where to aim my anger. It wasn’t my fault I got sick. The more I dwelt on the injustice of it all, the more upset I became. My frustration turned into sadness, and I started crying. I just wanted the pain to go away. Hoping for some type of encouragement, I reached for the scriptures and turned to 3 Nephi 17, my reading for the day. I was amazed by the words of comfort found in verse 7:
“Have ye any that are sick among you … or that are afflicted in any manner? Bring them hither and I will heal them, for I have compassion upon you; my bowels are filled with mercy.”
I was still crying, but I was no longer upset. Instead of dwelling on the pain, I focused on the invitation of the Savior to come unto Him and be healed. I read the chapter over and over, lingering on the phrase “all the multitude, with one accord, did go forth with their sick and their afflicted, … and he did heal them every one as they were brought forth unto him” (3 Nephi 17:9).
The Savior was opening His arms to me, inviting me to be healed, if not of the virus, then definitely of my frustration at that moment.
Reading that chapter didn’t stop the stomach pains or headache, but that night the words of the Savior healed my heart. I was no longer bitter, because I understood that this stomach virus, like other trials, was simply a fact of life. Heavenly Father knew I was sick, and although He didn’t instantly cure me, He reminded me of the individual love and concern He feels for each of His children. This love is manifest through the gift of His Son, Jesus Christ, who came to show us compassion. As we soften our hearts and come to the Savior with sufficient faith, we can all receive His healing grace.

Jessica also likes to read about recipes. She logs on to the Internet and types in the kind of food she wants to make and searches for recipes. She likes to bake cookies and cakes. She likes simple recipes the best—ones that don’t have too many ingredients. Jessica has already planned on baking her own chocolate birthday cake. She found a recipe that looks wonderful, with not too many ingredients.
Also on the Internet, Jessica found a recipe for gingersnaps. “It turned out that the recipe was 128 years old. It was created just after the Civil War. Don’t you think that’s interesting?” she asks.
The cookies tasted great, but Jessica couldn’t resist trying a little experiment. She used food coloring to make the cookies green. Then she put some orange food coloring in some granulated sugar and shook it, turning all the sugar bright orange. Then she sprinkled the orange sugar on the green cookies. “I took three cookies to school,” Jessica says, “but no one would try them except for the teacher.”

A few years ago my husband and I were in France. While we were there, we visited many castles. I particularly remember one—it was in a beautiful setting, up on a hill for protection. From the castle walls you could see all around the green and beautiful countryside.
We crossed a moat and went into a large stone-walled waiting room where there were portraits of very solemn-faced people dressed in velvet and lace. The floors were uncovered and made of stone. All the rooms had fireplaces and heavy tapestries on the walls, tapestries which would absorb the cold and the moisture. They also had huge chandeliers with wax candles.
On the top floor was an outside walkway with long, thin slits in the stonework through which the guardsmen would shoot arrows and yet be protected from those shooting at them. I thought, “This is just like a fairy tale. It’s romantic and it’s mysterious. This is the way royalty lived. This was the very best they had in that country.”
And then I thought, “How many of us, common citizens in our own countries, have better living conditions than the royalty of past centuries.” Not only are our living conditions so much better, but so are our opportunities.
As members of the Church today, we have the restored gospel. Kings and queens had court wizards or wisemen to explain the happenings of the world to them. We have prophets to guide us, to tell us what will come and how we can prepare ourselves. Royalty in castles had none of those things.
Do you wonder at how blessed you are to be living in the circumstances you enjoy today? Far beyond material things, the true blessings of life come in accordance with your faithfulness.
The scriptures say, “There is a law, irrevocably decreed in heaven before the foundations of this world, upon which all blessings are predicated—and when we obtain any blessing from God, it is by obedience to that law upon which it is predicated” (D&C 130:20–21).
Our blessings are predicated upon obedience to laws. The Lord wants to bless you. He knows you. He knew you before you were born, and he cares about you. You are children of our Heavenly Father who loves you.
This was graphically brought to my mind through an experience of my 16-year-old niece. Teriann was going through a stage. She hated Sunday School. She said her teacher was deadly dull. She didn’t like seminary. Sacrament meeting was boring, and she couldn’t stand family home evening because she had two brothers who were several years younger and had interests different than hers.
Teriann became really obnoxious. She was totally disruptive on Monday nights and it just kept getting worse. Teriann said, “Why can’t I just stop going to Church things? I’m not getting anything out of them anyway.”
After considerable discussion, her parents finally agreed that Teriann could stay home from her meetings for a certain trial period. Her father and mother felt that perhaps the release of the pressure of having to go would give her a chance to reflect on the real blessings of the gospel. One Sunday came and went, the most peaceful Sunday they had had for weeks. Monday night Teriann studied while the family met.
By Tuesday, however, while her father was praying about this problem, he had a distinct witness of the Spirit. Although he didn’t know what the solution should be, he knew that what he was doing was not the answer. Teriann’s father discussed these deep-seated feelings with his wife, who respected them. They decided to tell Teriann.
Teriann felt betrayed and wronged. She said, “You made an agreement and already you’re changing your mind—it hasn’t even been a week yet. How can you do this to me?”
What do you think her parents could say to her? A very wise mother said, “Teriann, the Lord must love you very much in order to not let us go even one week in the wrong direction.” This impressed her. She became quiet and her defensiveness was gone.
Then her dad said, “I don’t know the direction we should go. I only know that what we are doing is wrong. If we will fast and pray about this, then we will know what to do.” Teriann joined her parents in a special fast.
They were then able to discuss the situation realistically, and her parents made an agreement that Teriann could leave sacrament meeting after the sacrament had been passed, if the speaker was boring. Teriann only left sacrament meeting once after that. She found out she really didn’t hate seminary, and a change in the format of family home evening took care of Monday evenings.
This experience helped Teriann appreciate the real blessing of the gospel, and to know that the Lord loved her as an individual. A knowledge of God’s love for us is a blessing far above the benefits of the world’s royalty. Know that the Lord loves you too, very much.
Careful records were usually kept of the ancestry of royal lines. The names of all the kings and queens and their children were carefully recorded when many others were not.
But each of you can have a record of your lineage in your patriarchal blessing. It also gives you individual guidance. If you don’t have yours yet, I encourage you to receive it . “Study it carefully and regard it as personal scripture for you, for that indeed is what it is” (Ezra Taft Benson, To the Young Women of the Church, pamphlet, 1986, p. 4).
I will share a bit of my patriarchal blessing with you. “You shall enjoy the gift of foresight and to discern the thoughts of the heart and especially to detect the powers of evil. … These gifts you must cultivate that you may not be deceived.”
Sometimes we think others have all the gifts. They seem better looking, more talented, better dressed, and smarter. But each of us has unique gifts and talents. And these gifts we must cultivate. How important are you? Important enough that the Lord gives personal scripture to you that tells you of your gifts and how to use them.
Just as a castle is nothing compared to a comfortable home; just as the life of a king or queen, even in fairy tales, is nothing compared with the advantages and opportunities you have now; neither can jewels in any crown compare with the treasures that are in store for you if you accept and act upon the principles of the gospel.

So do the Willeys lug their violins, violas, and basses from door to door playing inspirational music for people? Not exactly. If you’ve ever seen a Church music broadcast or attended one on Temple Square, you’ve probably seen how Anthony, Elizabeth, and Kristina share the gospel through music. They are some of the youngest members of the Orchestra at Temple Square.
Being so young compared to the other members of the orchestra doesn’t bother these teens a bit. They actually love it. Elizabeth says, “Even though there are only a few members under 20 in the orchestra, I feel like I fit in. I think it’s great because there isn’t any goofing off. Everyone had to work so hard to get here.”
How did they get to be in such a prestigious orchestra at such a young age? “Lots and lots of practice,” Anthony says.
To be in the Orchestra at Temple Square you have to be one of the top musicians in the Church, able to play whatever difficult piece might be put in front of you. And it’s a huge time commitment.
Kristina says, “Being a part of the Orchestra at Temple Square is my favorite thing I’ve ever done, but it’s been a sacrifice. It’s hard to find time for homework and friends because we have to practice every day and rehearse several times a week.”
But Anthony, Elizabeth, and Kristina all say the hard work is worth it.
“It’s neat to be able to see the audience’s reaction when we perform,” Elizabeth says. “The Spirit is always there. It makes me feel like all my hard work has paid off.”
The teens’ mom and dad go to their concerts and sit up in the balcony where they can see all their children. Their mother, Denise, says, “When the music gets going, the Spirit sweeps over me and over the whole audience.”
The beautiful music the orchestra plays on Temple Square helps many people feel the Spirit. After the concerts are over, members of the audience can learn more about the Church from the full-time and Church service missionaries standing at the doors.
Anthony loves the missionary opportunities that being a member of the Orchestra at Temple Square has given him. “Being a member of the orchestra has made me want to be a better person,” he says, “and it has prepared me to be a better full-time missionary.”

Pa had always set great store in fasting and prayer. He never doubted that the Lord would answer a righteous prayer of faith. And my pa was a righteous man, so I never saw his faith go unanswered. But in the summer of 1876, during my twelfth year, his fasting and prayer brought about the most curious answer I’ve ever seen.
Whenever Pa was thinking hard about something, he would tug his left ear. He had been tugging that ear for three or four days, so I knew something important was on his mind.
He mentioned it to Ma that night at supper. “Emily, that upper five acres could mean the difference between meeting the payments at the bank and losing the farm.”
Ma stopped pouring the thick, frothy milk and looked at him. “What do you mean, Edward? You haven’t said anything before.”
“I can’t keep water on it, Em. No matter how I plot a course, the water either won’t flow across the field or it backs up and floods half the crop and leaves the other half dry. I don’t know what to do.”
Ma sat down heavily. “We could really lose the farm?”
“If we don’t get a good crop. And we won’t get a good crop unless I can figure out some way to irrigate that land.”
The next couple of days were really low ones for us. Pa would stand each morning, staring across those five acres, then tug his ear and walk off, glum-faced. Usually after supper he’d play with me and Baby Sam, read out loud from the big family Bible, or pick on his banjo. Now he just sat at the kitchen table, drawing figure after figure on pieces of paper—diagrams of an irrigation system.
It took me a minute to realize what was different that morning. There was no sound of sizzling bacon, no mouthwatering aroma almost lifting me out of bed. Then I remembered—we were going to fast today. I swallowed hard, wishing I had drunk one final glass of water before we had had prayer last night to start our fast.
The loft door lifted up, and Pa came in smiling and wrestled me out of bed. That kind of surprised me because Pa had been so quiet and preoccupied lately. I thought maybe he’d found a way to irrigate the cornfield, so I asked him.
“No,” he said, becoming serious again. “But we’re going to put it to Heavenly Father today during our fast. He knows how to get water to the crops. We just have to ask Him and have faith that He’ll give us the answer. I’ve done all I can.”
We knelt around the kitchen table for morning prayer, and I settled myself into a comfortable half-sleeping position, because Pa’s prayers can get pretty long sometimes. Suddenly my ears pricked up. Pa’s tone was different this morning, and his prayer was short and direct:
“Father, our crops are dying. I’ve tried everything I know to irrigate the land, but the water won’t flow on that hilly ground. We turn to Thee for help. We dedicate this fast to finding the answer we need. Please help us.”
After Pa finished, we knelt there quietly for a minute or two, then got up together. Pa looked relieved and ruffled my hair. I asked if he’d gotten an answer already. He smiled. “No, Son, not yet. But I will.” And much of that day he spent off by himself, praying.
The next morning Pa picked up a long stick as we walked out to the cornfield. Then he walked across the field, dragging that stick behind him! He didn’t turn to look until he was at the other end. And when he did turn to see that crazy wavy line, he stood a long time, tugging on his ear.
“Well, Son,” he said finally. “The Lord moves in mysterious ways, and this has to be one of His most mysterious.”
I couldn’t believe he meant what I thought he was saying! “You’re not going to follow that line to make the irrigation channel are you?” I asked.
Pa grinned. “If that’s what He wants me to do, then yes, I guess I am.” And he pulled the hand plow to the edge of the field. I stood at the side, watching his muscles bulge against his shirt as he plowed a deep, crooked furrow that looked more like a sidewinder’s track than an irrigation ditch.
This is one time, I thought, when Heavenly Father just hasn’t come through.
When Pa had finished plowing the furrows, he removed the board that held back the branch of the creek next to the field. The water rushed along his newly dug furrow, then slowed and found natural furrows that flowed throughout the corn patch and carried the life-giving water to every stalk of corn.
We had a successful crop that year, and I never again doubted the power of fasting and prayer. If ever my faith began to waver, all I had to do was remember my pa and the day that he plowed the crooked furrow.

A few years ago, the missionaries held an activity and gave all the youth a challenge to go without their phones and social media for a few days so that they could be more centered on the gospel and be able to share it with others. I accepted the challenge and shared the gospel with a friend and told them about the missionaries’ challenge. That friend became interested and started meeting with the missionaries. He was baptized a few months later.

An example of this comes from a mission president as he describes an unforgettable couple:
“I confess,” he said, “that when Elder and Sister Leslie arrived, I wondered how well they would do. He was seriously overweight and wore a hearing aid. She was limited with two artificial knee implants. But their spirit was sweet and their enthusiasm so strong. Two wonderfully ordinary people—full of love.
“I felt inspired to send them to Jamestown, Tennessee,” he said, “where we had a tiny, struggling branch that had been without missionaries for years.
“I knew they couldn’t tract, and for the first few weeks nothing was noted on their weekly reports. Their letters said, ‘We are getting to know the people.’
“After a few weeks their letters told of nonmembers who were attending church with them—at first two, then four, then seven. They had as many as twenty-four investigators at church on one occasion. Soon the baptisms started to flow. No set of missionaries, young or old, equaled the baptisms they brought about.”
And the mission president went on to say, “I doubt that either of them could give the missionary discussions in a way that closely resembled the suggested form that we have for the regular missionaries. What they had was a great love for the people. They wove themselves into the fabric of that little community, winning them over with friendship, compassionate service, and understanding hearts.
“Today, the Jamestown Branch is thriving, with a new building and more than 100 members attending. Many contributed their faith and works, but none more significantly or generously than Harry and Frances Leslie.”

Thomas Gehlauf from the Dresden Ward was among the second group of missionaries allowed by the communist government to serve in other lands. He left the GDR in May 1990 to serve in Colorado and returned from his mission to a reunified Germany. He remembers the excitement among Church members within the GDR when full-time missionaries entered the country after the Berlin Wall fell in 1989. Brother Gehlauf says that serving as a stake missionary at the time “was wonderful preparation for going on a full-time mission. We had teaching appointments almost every day till 9:00 or 10:00 in the evening. And there were baptisms almost every Sunday for about six months after the missionaries came to Dresden.”

David sat on the front row of the chapel and bounced his leg. He was nervous. He had just left Primary and become a deacon. The older boys were going to show David and the other 11-year-old boys how to pass the sacrament.
David’s autism sometimes made it hard for him to learn new things. Moving out of Primary had been hard for him. And now passing the sacrament seemed so scary. What if he made a mistake and everyone laughed at him?
Jacob, one of the older boys, sat next to David. “We’re happy to have you with us,” Jacob said. He gave David a high five. “You’ll do great.”
David smiled. That made him feel a bit better.
The other young men showed the 11-year-olds what to do. They showed them where to go and which rows to pass to. They practiced walking down the aisles in the chapel. They showed the boys how to hold the sacrament trays.
“Mom, look!” David said when he got home. He held his arm up. “This is how I hold the tray. Carefully, like this. Because I’m representing Jesus, and I want to show my respect.”
The young men practiced with David and the other boys after church on Sundays and during weeknight activities. They walked through where they should go. David practiced holding the tray.
Soon, the day came when he would pass the sacrament for the first time.
“How are you feeling about it?” Dad asked.
“I’m still nervous,” David said.
“Let’s talk through what you’ve done to prepare,” said Dad.
“Well, we’ve read scriptures about the priesthood as a family,” David said. “Holding the priesthood means I represent Jesus. I trimmed my nails so my hands will look nice. And I’ve practiced a lot!”
“I think you sound well prepared,” Dad said.
When he got to church, David sat on the front row with the other deacons. Jacob sat next to him. David thought about how he was going to represent Jesus when he passed the sacrament. What if he still messed up? He glanced at Jacob, and Jacob smiled at him. David smiled back and took a deep breath.
When it was time to pass the sacrament, Jacob helped David pass the tray down the first few rows. David was glad to have someone with him.
David looked at the people as he passed the sacrament. Many of them were sitting with their heads reverently bowed. Some looked thoughtful. David felt peaceful. He was representing Jesus. He was grateful he could help others think about Jesus Christ.
This story took place in the USA.

Ty woke up late and shoved on his glasses. He knelt for a quick prayer and then ran to feed his family’s huge poodle, Fifi. But Fifi had jumped the fence. Again. It took so long to find Fifi, Ty barely had time to feed himself. He grabbed a piece of toast as he ran out the door.
“Bye, Dad,” he shouted.
“Make good choices!” Dad called back, just like every morning.
Good choices. Ty thought about the biggest choice he had to face at school: what to do about Bobby Miller. Bobby was the biggest, meanest kid in the whole third grade.
Ty zipped down the street on his green bike. He’d have to hurry to get to school before Bobby. His legs pumped, the wind rushed into his face, and finally he saw the school up ahead.
Oh no! Bobby was already at the bike rack. Don’t turn around, Bobby! Ty thought. Just keep walking right to your class. But no such luck. Bobby finished locking up his bike just as Ty skidded to a stop in front of him.
“Looks like I beat you again, Ty-Ty,” Bobby said. He kicked Ty’s bike over, just because. Ty landed on the ground in a tangle of arms and legs and bike wheels, and Bobby ran off laughing.
How can I ever stop him from doing that? Ty thought. He got up off the ground and locked up his bike.
The rest of the morning went OK. Ty was just grateful Bobby wasn’t in his class this year.
When the recess bell rang, Ty ran out to play kickball. But as he ran toward his friends in the field, he didn’t see a game going on. As he got closer, he could see why. Bobby had stolen the ball and was running around the field throwing it at people. “Strike!” he yelled as he knocked Emma over. Then he threw the ball and knocked off Bryce’s glasses. Bobby just laughed and held them high over Bryce’s head. “Try to get ’em, shortie. I dare you.”
For a second, Ty hesitated. He definitely didn’t want Bobby to notice him. But Bryce needed help. Ty took a deep breath. He marched over and grabbed the ball where it had rolled. “Give his glasses back, Bobby.” He tried to look fierce.
Bobby just laughed. “Oh, Ty-Ty! I’m so scared.”
“You’re ruining everyone’s recess. Please stop.”
“Whatever, Ty-Ty.” Bobby tossed the glasses and stomped off.
Ty let out a big breath. “OK, everyone! Let’s play some kickball.” He hoped he didn’t see Bobby again today. Fingers crossed, he thought.
But when school got out, there was Bobby at the bike rack again. He grabbed Ty’s bike handle before he could walk away. “I dare you to fight me,” he said.
Ty shook his head and pulled his bike out of Bobby’s grip. The kids around them were all turning to stare.
“You thought you were so tough at recess, but who’s a chicken now?” Bobby taunted.
Someone laughed, and Ty felt his cheeks get warm. After everything that had happened today, maybe it would be OK to take Bobby’s dare and fight him. Somebody needed to teach Bobby a lesson! Besides, what if everyone thought he was a chicken?
Then Ty had another thought. Taking Bobby’s dare wouldn’t make me tough. It would just be a really bad choice.
“Chicken!” Bobby grabbed Ty’s shoulder as he walked away. “Come on and fight me. I double-dare you!”
Go to “Family Night Fun” for an activity to go with this story and to learn what to do if you’re being bullied.
Ty had already made his choice. He turned around. “You know what, Bobby? I’d rather be a chicken than take your dare.” Bobby just stared while Ty got on his bike and rode off.
And you know what? He didn’t feel like a chicken at all.

Janetta looked again at the flickering lights and felt sadness creep in. Her father had left before the temple walls were up. Their family had never had the opportunity to go inside to be sealed together as a family.
The worst of the trouble had started the summer before, when the Prophet Joseph was killed. Everyone was numb from the tragedy. It was as if a cloud of darkness covered their beautiful city—only there weren’t any clouds.
With tears streaming down their cheeks, Sarah and Janetta had stood hand in hand as the bodies of the Prophet and his brother Hyrum passed by in a wagon coming from Carthage. Later, after the bodies had been prepared at the Mansion House, her parents stood in line to view them.
As the sorrow lessened, some of the Saints became confused. Rumors circulated in the city that the Church was doomed. Some predicted that the temple would never be finished. Several men claimed to be the next leader of the Church.
Janetta was troubled by the confusion. “Father,” she asked one day, “what will happen now? Who will lead the Church?”
Her father took her in his strong arms and hugged her. “This Church was true while Joseph lived, and it’s true now that he’s dead. It’s the Savior’s Church, and He’ll provide a leader for us. We’ll listen to the Brethren and follow what they say. There’s a meeting in the grove tomorrow, and Brother Brigham will tell us what’s right.”
The next day the Saints eagerly gathered at the grove. The first speaker was Sidney Rigdon. Janetta listened very carefully, for he claimed to be the proper leader of the Church. He talked on and on. The more he talked, the more she fidgeted and the worse she felt. She looked over at Sarah and caught her eye. When Sarah winked at Janetta, they both tried hard not to giggle,
Finally Sidney Rigdon sat down and Brigham Young closed the meeting. He announced another meeting under the direction of the Apostles at two o’clock.
Janetta and her parents hurried home and put James down for a nap. Leaving a neighbor to watch him, the three hurried back to the second meeting. Even though they were early, the only seats left were way in the back. Janetta was too short to see over people, but she could still hear the speakers.
Brigham Young stood up and began to speak. Hearing him, she felt a peace fill her. Then suddenly she jumped up and craned to see over the heads of the people in front of her. She thought she had heard the Prophet Joseph!
A blind man sitting beside her jumped up too. “That’s Joseph speaking to us. Surely he’s not dead!”
The extraordinary effect lasted only for seconds, but the people knew that Brigham Young had been chosen to lead the Church. They all listened very carefully to every word that he said.
When the meeting was over, Janetta hurried to find Sarah. “Did you hear him?” she asked excitedly. “He sounded just like the Prophet.”
“I not only heard him,” Sarah answered softly, “I saw him. It was like Brother Joseph was standing right there before us.”
The girls were silent for a moment as they reverently thought of what they’d just witnessed.
“I’ll never forget this,” Janetta whispered. “Brother Young is our prophet now. We can safely do everything he tells us to do.”

Sheryl Swain, 18, of Carmichael, California, has achieved a unique distinction in her high school. She is the first girl to complete a grueling, three-year program to win her school’s navy blue level of physical achievement. Students all begin with white PE shorts and achieve different colors as they complete each physical feat.
Since the program has been in existence, only 19 boys have finished at the highest level. The program includes feats of strength and endurance such as carrying another student weighing ten pounds less for one mile, swimming underwater for 50 yards, running a mile in under 6 1/2 minutes, remaining afloat in a pool with hands and feet tied for 6 minutes, and climbing a standard-length gym rope in 8 seconds. Of all the events, running the mile in the prescribed time was the most difficult for Sheryl.
Sheryl is Laurel class secretary in her La Sierra Ward, Fair Oaks California Stake.

• Berlin, Germany, Thursday, June 20: A very weary choir, running on the Spirit, love, and memory, performs two concerts, matinee and evening, in the glittering former Communist showcase, the restored Schauspielhaus. Tonight, more than 1,500 attenders foot-stamp uproarious ovations. The evening becomes doubly memorable for attenders when Herold Gregory, administrative assistant of the choir and former [1953 to 1957] mission president over East Germany, steps up to the microphone to wish all a good night and to announce that Germany’s lower house of parliament, the Bundestag, has just voted a few minutes ago to transfer its offices, the nation’s chancellor, and his cabinet from Bonn to Berlin. The response is ear-splitting!

The wee hours of the morning became my solace as I pondered the scriptures and learned about the Savior while administering Sarah’s IV medication. I studied Romans 5:8–9, which says:
“But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.
“Much more then, being now justified by his blood, we shall be saved from wrath through him.”
And then I thought of Luke 22:44: “And being in an agony he prayed more earnestly: and his sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground.”
Prayer at Gethsemane, by Del Parson
As I read those verses, the thought struck me that blood represents life and living and that Christ bled from every pore to give us life—eternal life.
A few days later, Sarah and I were in the bone marrow transplant clinic, where she would receive a red blood cell transfusion. She had been premedicated for the procedure and was peacefully sleeping in my arms. I began to think intently about Sarah and how her situation was so dire: she was getting sicker and sicker by the day. Parts of her body had quit functioning altogether. Her red blood count had fallen drastically; she had no white blood count to speak of and would also be receiving a platelet transfusion before the day was finished. She was lethargic and weaker than normal, and her appearance was paler. Without new red blood cells to revive her body, life would eventually slip away.
But gratefully, I watched as precious red blood cells slowly dripped from a tiny bag and flowed through the IV tubing directly into Sarah’s body through her central line, literally offering her new life. I observed a physical transformation as Sarah’s cheeks and hands became a beautiful pink hue again. She even seemed to be breathing a little easier. Peace filled my mind as I knew that, once again, her body would be receiving its vital nourishment through the circulation of the new red blood cells. Life would continue.
Watching this physical transformation showed me in a powerful way how vital blood is to the body. Blood brings nourishment and oxygen to all the cells in the body, making them healthy and strong and helping them perform their proper functions. Blood also cleanses the body of the impurities that build up through daily wear and tear. The white blood cells fight off dangerous infections, and the platelets heal our inner workings automatically so we don’t bleed to death.
As I observed how precious this blood was to my daughter, I was suddenly struck by how much more important the Savior’s blood is to our souls. Through His suffering in the Garden of Gethsemane, the Savior offered each of us the chance for a transfusion—a spiritual transfusion. Sarah needed physical blood for her life to continue, but everyone who comes to this earth needs the spiritual blood transfusion that can only be received through our personal acceptance of the Atonement of Jesus Christ. Only then can we be cleansed of all our impurities and of the sins we have committed and become completely whole, ready to live in the presence of our Father in Heaven.
Because our Savior loves us, He “washed us from our sins in his own blood” (Revelation 1:5), and with His blood He cleanses us from sin. But this transfusion will not be forced upon us. With our agency, each of us can choose to accept His transfusion and become clean and whole so that our spiritual life can continue, or we can reject the transfusion, giving up our life with our Heavenly Father. Repenting and turning to Christ are the only ways we can receive this transfusion. Repentance is our “central line” between us and our Savior; without it, there is no possible way for His blood to free us from our sins.
Once we have repented and truly called upon Christ for mercy (see Alma 36:18), our sins, though they “be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool” (Isaiah 1:18). How ironic that blood, which stains garments, is also offered to us as a purifier. Just as our physical bodies are purified and cleansed through our blood, our spirits are purified and cleansed through our Savior’s atoning blood. And with our garments made white, we can stand spotless before God (see Alma 13:12).
Christ’s sacrifice also answers the ends of the law for all who have a broken heart and a contrite spirit (see 2 Nephi 2:7). Think for a minute about the workings of the heart: it pumps oxygen-rich blood throughout our bodies, keeping them functioning properly and making it so all the cells can be nourished and cleansed. If a heart breaks, it cannot function properly, and life ceases to exist. But if we “come unto [our Savior] with a broken heart,” we will be saved (see 3 Nephi 12:19–20). Jesus Christ can take our broken hearts and, through the power of His Atonement, make them work perfectly. Without Christ, our broken hearts cannot function and eternal life cannot be ours, but with Him a humble and repentant heart can properly function.
After Sarah had relapsed, we were faced with the challenge of deciding whether or not we should continue on with chemotherapy treatment. As we spoke with the doctors, they urged us to use the treatment because her white blood count had escalated to the point where she could begin bleeding out if we did not. Bleeding out is when the blood vessels begin spontaneously bursting throughout the body, becoming most obvious in the eyes, mouth, and nose. We were told it can be an excruciatingly painful process
When I heard this, my mind again turned to the Savior. He experienced a similar process as He suffered for all the sins that would ever be committed. King Benjamin taught of Jesus Christ’s suffering: “Blood cometh from every pore, so great shall be his anguish for the wickedness and the abominations of his people” (Mosiah 3:7). How excruciating His pain must have been as He bled from every pore.
Christ’s pain was again on my mind as I held my daughter in her final hours. I thought of Christ’s plea: “Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me: nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done” (Luke 22:42). But it was not the will of the Father to remove the cup, and Christ accepted this and continued forward with the Atonement. The Father, being merciful, sent an “angel unto him from heaven, strengthening him” (Luke 22:43). In that moment and others, I too was given a strength to endure that was not my own. Our Father in Heaven is merciful. He knows us individually and loves us personally. He sent His Son, even Jesus Christ, to earth to atone for our sins and offer us a spiritual transfusion because He knew it was the only way for us to enter into His presence and live with Him again.
Author’s note: Although Sarah passed away in 2004, we did have about a year and a half following her bone marrow transplant to enjoy her happy and spunky disposition.

“This assignment will be due two weeks from Friday,” said Mr. Perkins. “I’m distributing a reading list to aid you in your research.”

Hastily, John Salinger jotted down the details of the assignment on the back of the reading list: three-page paper, due on the fifth, world hunger, population explosion, use reading list.

The bell rang, and John made his way down the hall toward the cafeteria. Near the library he passed the locker informally shared by most of the LDS girls at Royal High. As usual, John found most of the LDS boys there, too. By the time they reached the cafeteria, other LDS students and nonmember friends had joined them.

When the “Mormonism-for-lunch-bunch” were seated in their usual places in the cafeteria, John asked Julie Marshall a question:

“Did Mr. Perkins give your class an assignment on population and hunger today?”

“Yes, he did,” replied Julie. “I hope I can find my research notes for the paper I did on this same subject for him last year.”

Soon it was established that not only had Julie’s history class received the assignment, but also Kamio Kamura’s economics class, as well as John’s government class.

“It’s not just Mr. Perkins,” added Lisa Ballard. “It seems as though I’ve received a similar assignment at least once each semester from one teacher or another ever since I started here as a sophomore three years ago. If it isn’t overpopulation, it’s abortion, or capital punishment, or world hunger.”

“I think some of the teachers at this school have a one-track mind,” said Julie. “And the stuff in the reading list makes it pretty clear what your conclusions are supposed to be: ‘The world is overcrowded. No one should have a large family. Abortions are needed to control population growth. We’re running out of food.’ I don’t believe all that stuff.”

“Maybe we’re being unfair to the teachers,” said John. “It seems to me that Mr. Perkins is a genuine idealist. He gives lots of assignments on these subjects because he’s really concerned about them. I think the same is true of the other teachers, too. And many of them agree with what the Church teaches.”

“Maybe so, John,” answered Lisa, “but how do we do the assignment when the teacher’s opinions don’t seem to square with what the Church teaches?”

“Right!” agreed Rick Baker, a recent transfer student from Utah. “I know what the Church teaches, and I believe it.* But how do you disagree with a teacher? Can you just put what you believe in a term paper? How do you go against everything on the reading list? Will Mr. Perkins take a quote from the scriptures?”

These young people have raised some interesting questions. Frequently, the opinions of teachers will differ from Church policies, the statements of Church leaders, and the scriptures.

Teachers are seen as authority figures, persons whose positions are based upon their having considerable knowledge of their subject field and persons who are the judge and jury at report-card time.

In the case of Royal High School, the LDS students found some good guidance close at hand.

“Well, it’s quite a riddle,” said John, “and I don’t have the answer. But I do know where to find the answer. Let’s go talk to Mr. Morgan. He’s taught at this school for a hundred years, and he’s been a bishop and a seminary teacher longer than that.”

Bishop Morgan was in his room in the science wing when the “Mormonism-for-lunch-bunch” arrived. John quickly related the group’s questions.

“I can see that you do have a problem,” said Bishop Morgan, “but it’s not the problem you mentioned. You are assuming that you may use only the sources on Mr. Perkins’ reading list and that you must reach the same conclusions as the authors on that list.

“I have no doubt,” continued the bishop, “that you are welcome to use other sources, and to state other points of view, and to reach different conclusions if that is what your research leads you to.”

“But are there books and articles that support what the Church teaches?” asked Lisa.

“Certainly,” replied Bishop Morgan. “There are few fields of study without controversy. Honest, sincere researchers, working with the same data, may come to widely different conclusions and then publish documented articles and books in support of their conclusions.

“Some scientists are sure that the world is overcrowded with four billion people. Others feel that the earth is capable of providing well for 40 or 50 or even 100 billion people.

“And among social scientists the differences of opinion are probably even greater because they work with the most complex subject of all: people. That’s why you get strong, conflicting opinions on subjects like abortion, capital punishment, mercy killing, and the like. There are no easy answers.

“As Latter-day Saints, we are fortunate to have revealed truth to guide us in these controversial subjects, and we should be grateful for that. And there are also many researchers, both LDS and otherwise, whose writings agree with what the Lord has revealed. Your problem is simply to find these writings and then decide which of them will be useful in your assignments.”

As the bishop concluded, the students were quiet for a moment. Then Kamio asked one last question:

“But what about Mr. Perkins? Are you sure we won’t be penalized if we turn in reports that disagree with his point of view?”

“I know Carl Perkins,” said the bishop. “Yes, he has strong opinions, but he’s a good teacher and a fair man. He won’t grade you down for differing with him. He’d be pleased if you went beyond his reading list. Just be sure that what you do is well written and researched, and don’t automatically assume that everything on that reading list is wrong. Read it with an open mind.”

In the next three weeks John, Julie, and Kamio did a lot of hard work. Working together, they carefully read everything on Mr. Perkins’ reading list and then began digging into both the school and the public libraries.

They contacted Church Social Services in their area and their bishop and obtained some useful materials and references. Both the U.S. Government and United Nations agencies were found to have prepared good statistical summaries. An LDS anti-abortion filmstrip, “Very Much Alive” (available in both an LDS and a worldwide edition), was borrowed from the meetinghouse library and used. Other teachers were consulted.

John and Julie and Kamio received top grades for their work in presenting the Church’s stand. They were invited to present their findings to their respective classes and to answer questions from other students. They were well prepared to defend their positions. They had found facts to back up their beliefs.

Best of all, they learned that there really are good and valid reasons for the Church’s stand on tough moral issues. They discovered that some teachers with strong opinions respect students who do a good job of disagreeing with them. And they learned that the gospel of Jesus Christ is always in harmony with truth from whatever source.

When our family was living in the state of Massachusetts, we had our home in the little country town of Weston, about 20 kilometers west of Boston. It was a very quaint, sophisticated community with a population then of about 11,000 people. Weston had many picturesque, winding country roads lined with hand-fashioned rock walls. The small business section was completely deserted by 9:00 P.M. each evening. Yet for all its quaintness, Weston had its problems, especially with many of the high school and junior high school students who used drugs and brought liquor into the town where alcoholic drinks were not sold.
However, I would like to tell you about one Weston High School student who was too busily engaged in other pursuits to become involved with drugs or alcohol. This young man spent a lot of time on the ski slopes. Being an avid skier in that area is not unusual, but what this boy did with his talent is unusual. He was an expert skier and loved the sport. In fact, he was an instructor and spent even his spare time teaching others to ski. You could regularly see him coming down the mountainside very close to one of his pupils, who was oftentimes years older than he. They would start slowly but gather speed as they made graceful turns down the slope, all the time carrying on a conversation, laughing, enjoying the invigorating air and the sparkling sunshine. Observers would take note and follow the pair with their eyes until they reached the bottom, regarding them as just two more skiers having a great time.
What the onlookers did not realize was that one of the skiers was blind. This young, Weston High School student was teaching the blind to ski. He did it free of charge. When he first had the idea, he discussed it with others and was advised by all to forget it. He was told over and over that it would simply be impossible.
But this young man had witnessed the hopelessness of some of the blind people and wanted to share with them one of the pleasures of his life. He wanted them to have a feeling of accomplishment and success. He wished to give them a new dimension to their lives. He wanted them to feel that they were real, whole individuals. He really cared. He cared enough to devote the time and necessary patience to develop a rapport of love, encouragement, and understanding with these people to help them build faith in themselves and in their own abilities. Gradually mutual friendships blossomed.
These blind people placed their trust in this young man. He was their friend. He was the only one they would permit to put on their ski boots and help them into the bindings on their skis. In their training, he said that helping them develop an attitude of trust and faith in themselves was the important thing. After that, the technique would come easily.
The last I heard, he had been successful in teaching 13 blind people to ski and was in the process of teaching more. He had even been requested to write a manual on teaching the blind to ski. He possessed then, and I am sure he still does, the confidence that comes with success. But more importantly, he has developed lasting friendships and has learned how to love and share through worthwhile service.

One of our greatest needs is for true witnesses among our youth. Young people need models from their own generation. Thankfully we have a tremendous army of latter-day sons and daughters of Helaman, stripling “Saturday’s warriors,” who are not ashamed of the gospel of Jesus Christ. Rather, they have turned this commitment to the Lord into an advantage. Let me tell you of one.

Steve Hawes is the student body president at New Canaan High School in Connecticut. Of its twenty-three hundred students, only twenty-four are Latter-day Saints. Steve ran unopposed in a landslide election. This is impressive. But even more impressive is Steve’s moral courage—his commitment to living the principles of the gospel.

The Hawes family lived for a time in Tampa, Florida. Steve played junior high football and basketball. When his family was preparing to move to Connecticut, the coach told Steve’s father how much he appreciated and admired Steve, not just because he is a fine athlete, but because of his deep religious convictions.

“He doesn’t preach sermons; he just quietly lives his religion each day. I remember,” said the coach, “a group of us were in the squad room, and one of the boys pulled out a copy of Playboy magazine. They opened to the centerfold and began to make some vulgar comments.

“I noticed Steve walk away, so I followed him and asked if anything was wrong. He said, ‘I’m okay, Coach, but that just isn’t my kind of thing.’”

The coach said, “Steve made us all better people. When he joined us, most of the guys were swearing. Then they stopped swearing around Steve, and after a while, they pretty well stopped swearing altogether.”

When I heard this tribute, I thought of Paul’s counsel to Timothy: “Be thou an example of the believers, in word, in conversation, in charity, in spirit, in faith, in purity.” (1 Tim. 4:12.)

Sometimes helping those in need requires reaching beyond political boundaries. Holland enjoys a relatively comfortable standard of living. But just several hundred kilometers miles away in Poland, many do not enjoy the same life-style or have the same blessings.
Brother and Sister C. R. Kirschbaum of the Haarlem Ward, The Hague Netherlands Stake, realized that alone they could do little to relieve the suffering of a whole nation—unless they joined together with others. So the Kirschbaums helped form a foundation called Holland Helps Poland. The foundation crossed religious boundaries, with members of nineteen different religious denominations.
Members of the Haarlem Ward worked with members from the other religious groups to collect food, clothing, shoes, blankets, vitamins, soap, and medical supplies. With plastic bags and lists of needed supplies in hand, volunteers collected door-to-door. Money donated was used to buy oil, butter, baby food, and vitamins at low prices. Hospitals offered expensive surgical equipment. A truck and a van were made available free of charge, along with two drivers. “Help came from all directions, in truly miraculous ways,” says Sister Kirschbaum.
Volunteers sorted, packed, and loaded the supplies. After a short religious service, the $83,000 shipment was on its way. The aid went to Methodists and Baptists, a home for the elderly, a children’s home, and a children’s hospital.
Sister Kirschbaum notes that reaching out together has created and strengthened friendships between people of many faiths in Haarlem. “It was as if all the walls that usually divide people had disappeared,” she said. In a religious service held after the vehicles had safely returned, a Baptist minister quoted from the New Testament: “For [the Lord] hath broken down the middle wall of partition between us.” (Eph. 2:14.)

As Bridger Pons began looking forward to helping bless the sacrament, there was something he was dreading too: reading and memorizing the sacrament prayers. Bridger has dyslexia, a learning disability where reading and spelling are hard to do.
“I’ve worked really hard to become a good reader, but I still get nervous when I have to read out loud in front of a group,” Bridger said. “When I’m nervous, I make mistakes, which makes me even more nervous.”
Bridger Pons
So Bridger and his mother printed a version of the sacrament prayers that was easier to read. It used a larger font and was separated into short phrases. After lots of practice, he was able to recite the prayers without any mistakes.
“Being able to overcome the challenge of reading in front of a large group may not be a big deal for a lot of people, but for me it was important,” Bridger said.
His extra effort ended up blessing others in unexpected ways. After the meeting, several ward members came to him and said that his slow, intentional speaking helped them focus on the Spirit during those sacred prayers. Additionally, while helping leaders understand his challenges, Bridger learned that other young men in the stake need similar help. A fear of reading was affecting their Church participation and their confidence in preparing for missionary service. Now the Pons family shares reading resources with others whenever possible.
Bridger said he hopes more people will realize that how well a person reads does not reflect their level of intelligence. He also shared these words of encouragement for those who have reading challenges like he does: “You’re not alone. And you are smart.”