Gospel Story Finder

“One night when I was sixteen years old, Father gave a Christmas party for his own children and their families and the nearest neighbors. We danced. My brothers were the musicians. We knew it was Father’s aim to end the party at ten o’clock, which he did right in the middle of a square-dance by ordering the musicians to stop. But Father didn’t know that my brothers had lifted me up to the clock many times that night. Each time I turned it back thirty minutes. It must have been past midnight when the party broke up.”

From Christian Olsen family records, in Carter, Our Pioneer Heritage, 15:199.

When was the last time an adult looked at you, smiled, and wistfully said something like, “Oh, I’d love to be young again, like you. Your life is so carefree.”
How long did it take for you to stop laughing?
Most youth in the Church are busy with seminary, school, Church callings, family activities, homework, recreation, employment, and volunteer work. With all the running around you do, wouldn’t it be nice to get away from it all? Picture a tropical island with warm white sand, gentle surf, and palm trees swaying gently in the background. Can’t you almost feel the sunshine on your face? As you drift off to sleep under the tropical sun, you might think something like, I could live in a place like this.
Well, some people do. Nassau, Bahamas, is a paradise that some people call home. It never gets cold there. Seafood is fresh and abundant. Dolphins frolic in crystal blue water. Plants that would wither and die most places burst into huge blooms in hues of pink, purple, and orange, gently perfuming the air with their scent. Music can almost always be heard playing somewhere in the distance.
The youth in the Bahamas do enjoy their beautiful climate and surroundings, but they’re not immune to the pressures of everyday life. They know that true peace doesn’t come from music or food or even sunshine. It comes from living a good life by being true to the gospel. Because the gospel has only been on their island for about 20 years, they are true pioneers. Many are the first and only members in their families. They not only love the gospel but are eager to share it too.
Angela Vildor, a Laurel, moved to the Bahamas from Haiti a few years ago with her family. With the move came many changes, including learning English—a real challenge since she had spent her entire life speaking Haitian Creole. One afternoon a friend of hers invited her to a free English class sponsored by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Angela readily accepted the invitation.
“I met the missionaries in English class,” she says. “They gave me a Book of Mormon and later they talked to me about it. I told them that when I read the Book of Mormon, I felt very strong; it was a very different feeling. They explained that what I was feeling was the Spirit.”
Soon after Angela told the missionaries about her feelings, she was taught the missionary discussions and was baptized. A few weeks later, Angela’s younger sister, Annette, was also baptized. Together, the two of them help each other learn more about the gospel and share it with the rest of their family and their friends.
“Some of my friends are confused,” says Annette. “When they look at the Book of Mormon and see First Nephi, they say, ‘Oh, so this is Genesis for you?’ And I explain that Genesis is Genesis and Nephi is Nephi, and that I believe in both.”
Misunderstandings about the Book of Mormon aren’t the only challenges that Angela and Annette face. Unfortunately, since the Church is still so small in the Bahamas, there are many unfounded rumors about the Church’s beliefs and religious practices. In fact, Annette wasn’t so sure that it was a good idea for her sister to join the Church, but then Angela persuaded her to read the Book of Mormon and find out for herself.
“In the book of Mosiah, it talks about being a witness of God in all times and in all places. I like that,” says Annette. “Then it goes on to talk about desire, and I knew deep down inside that joining the Church was the desire of my heart. It was then that I knew I had to join the Church.”
Much like Angela and Annette, Marco Dauphin is eager to spread the gospel by sharing it with anyone who will listen. Marco is pretty much like any young man his age, with a passion for basketball and a quick, easy smile. But there is something a little different about him, too. He is a leader, introducing his friends and family to things he thinks are good and uplifting. He knows how to include everyone and make them feel at home. When he first met the missionaries a few years ago, he immediately knew they had something special—something he wanted to have, too.
“I remember learning from the missionaries about the Second Coming,” he says. “I loved it.”
Soon he was ready for baptism, and so was his younger brother, Derek. Younger sister Sandra soon followed, and baby sister, Tina, was still too young (she has since been baptized). But Marco’s older sister, Rosenelle, wasn’t so sure that joining the Church was a good idea.
“I was strong in my belief that the Church was not true,” says Rosenelle.
But at Marco’s urging, Rosenelle continued to meet with the missionaries, never committing to baptism, but never completely rejecting the idea either.
“I never gave up,” says Marco. “I knew it would happen.”
And it did. While reading the Book of Mormon one afternoon, Rosenelle read about Alma the Younger. Soon she was thinking about her own life and the direction it was taking. She prayed for a long time that day and started to have some feelings that she couldn’t quite describe.
“Marco told me it was the Spirit,” says Rosenelle. “I knew he was right. I became converted and was baptized. I haven’t ever regretted it.”
The Dauphins’ mother, who is single, isn’t a member of the Church, and she often has to be at work on Monday evenings. So Marco and Rosenelle hold family night, complete with a game, songs, prayers, and a lesson. Sometimes the full-time missionaries are invited. It’s a challenge to coordinate their efforts, but all the Dauphins say it’s worth it.
“Joining the Church was a real relief for us,” says Marco. “When we have the Spirit in our home, we feel closer together. We just feel better.”
When the Rabasto family joined the Church a little over three years ago, they jumped into the gospel with both feet. After moving to the Bahamas from the Philippines, their dad, Adolfo, was called to the branch presidency. They hold regular family home evening. Archie and Roselle, the two high schoolers in the family, both attend seminary every day. They read the scriptures daily as a family. Rinna, the oldest sister in the family, is a student at BYU.
But what the family loves about the gospel most is the Christmas present they received last year. During the holiday break, the family took a trip to the temple in Orlando, Florida, to be sealed.
“I felt really excited to be in the temple,” says Archie. “I remember my sisters crying, and I felt happy, and peaceful.”
From Orlando, the family said good-bye to Rinna, since she was leaving for college. They miss her terribly, of course, but they say they feel calm about her being so far away in Utah, since they feel a lasting peace from knowing they’ll always be sealed as a family, no matter where they go.
“Everyone in the temple kept telling us how great we looked with our white clothes and jet-black hair,” says Roselle. “We felt great too. You could feel the air-conditioning in the temple, but I felt a warmth from inside. The feelings that I had there were indescribable.”
The youth in the Bahamas are few in numbers, but great in strength and dedication. They all have stories to tell about how the gospel has changed their lives. There’s Nancy Bowe, a soft-spoken Mia Maid who serves as the seminary president. There’s Kelford Gean, who helps his mom remember to study scriptures with him every night. There’s D. D. Wilson, who took her scriptures and her journal on a school trip to Florida because she didn’t want to miss a day of either habit.
Living the gospel in the Bahamas can be difficult, since members are so few and far between, but the youth seem to rise to the occasion with the help of their leaders and their friends. Someday they hope that instead of a small branch or two, the island will be filled with large and active wards. Very likely, when a history of the Church in the Bahamas is written, all of their names will be mentioned as pioneers who laid the foundation for others to build on. But for now, they are happy where they are, with a great love for each other and for the gospel.
And while they love their beautiful country, they know that it’s not where you live, but how you live, that brings peace and happiness. They know that with the gospel in their lives anywhere can be a paradise.

Latter-day Saint Hwang Keun Ok worked in a South Korean orphanage in the 1960s. When the sponsors of the orphanage learned that Sister Hwang was a member of the Church, they gave her a choice: leave the Church or resign from her job. She resigned. Five years later, she opened a new home for girls in Seoul. Teaming up with Latter-day Saint missionaries, they gave concerts throughout the country that helped spread the gospel to thousands.

Some years ago, Dr. Faun Hunsaker, then president of the Southern States Mission, was invited to stay at the home of a member. He arrived after the children were in bed.
He occupied the parents’ bedroom, and during the night heard the door open and the sound of little feet. A little boy frightened by a bad dream had come to his parents’ bed for comfort.
Sensing that something was different, the little boy felt Brother Hunsaker’s face. So he spoke quietly to the child. The startled youngster said, “You’re not my daddy!”
“No, I’m not your daddy.”
“Did my daddy say you could sleep here?”
“Yes, your daddy said I could sleep here.”
With that the little youngster crawled into bed with Brother Hunsaker and was soon asleep.
...
I said at the beginning that I might well conclude with the account of that trusting little child. I think I will do just that:
“You’re not my daddy.”
“No, I’m not your daddy.”
“Did my daddy say you could sleep here?”
“Yes, your daddy said I could sleep here.”
With that, the little boy was soon safely asleep in his arms.
God grant that all little children will be safe with every one of us because their Father and their God and our Father and our God said we could be here. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

From the outside looking in, people saw a girl who was successful and accomplished. I started on a competitive basketball team, played the violin in the state championship orchestra, graduated as the salutatorian of my class, was involved in student government, and participated in numerous other extracurricular activities. I strove to excel, to be perfect.
On the inside, however, I was a completely different person. Like many teenage girls, I unsuccessfully fought to win the battle of insecurity. I struggled with my self-image. I felt alone, as it was hard for me to develop close friendships when so few people maintained similar beliefs and morals. I was simply unhappy.
Without my even being aware of what I was doing, I tried to find not just solace, but also happiness, in being the best in anything and everything. My motto in life became “Mediocrity is not an option!”
Through my efforts, the awards began to pile up. However, I became more discouraged because I was not finding happiness. Sure I found a sense of pleasure in receiving such recognition, but it was not true happiness. I continually felt that I needed just one more award and then I would feel happy, only to be disappointed when that feeling did not come. Without my realizing it, this drive for perfection had taken over and had become the center of my life.
I decided that I wanted to become a different person when I entered college. Again, without being fully conscious of what I was doing, I developed a new center in my life, returning to basics I had learned at home, church, and seminary. I began having meaningful scripture study and started pouring my soul out to my Father in Heaven. I became a spiritual sponge. I never would have thought such simple adjustments could make such a huge impact on my life. I truly have never been happier.
Sure, there have been times when I have felt sad and low. The difference is that I now know whole-heartedly that God loves me and hears and answers my prayers. I also know that my Savior understands and has felt all my pains. He not only suffered for mankind’s sins, but also for our sorrows and burdens (see Alma 7:11–13).

Last summer when I was going to school in Manchester, England, I had to ride the bus into town every day. Then I had to walk several blocks through the worst part of the city to get to my college. I remember that the most corrupt street of all was right next to my bus stop. The walls of the street shops were covered with obscenities, pornographic posters, graffiti, and vulgar swear words. There were several bars, where open doors sent out loud, suggestive music. People inside called out crude things to me as I walked. The first time I went into town for classes, I got off the bus and walked right down this street. About halfway down, I was so sick, offended, and afraid, that I didn’t think I could make it the rest of the way. I did, with my eyes shut as much as possible, but I decided at that moment that I would never walk down that street again.
Being far away from our home and family, I had plenty of things to worry about and more temptations than I could ever list. I certainly didn’t need to add this street to my worries. So, everyday when I got off the bus to go to school, I would walk an entire block out of my way to avoid that street. Sometimes on rainy mornings when I was late to an eight o’clock class I would want to forget what I had resolved and take the shorter route. But I knew I would feel sick inside if I let myself be exposed to unclean things.
Crossing that street to take the long way around every morning just became a habit. After a while, I didn’t even think of why I was doing it. Then one afternoon a friend of mine, Bob, offered to show me a new music store close to my bus stop. As we left the college together, I automatically crossed the street.
“What are you doing?” Bob asked.
Without thinking, I answered, “I can’t walk on that street.”
“Why not?” he laughed.
Suddenly I heard myself blurting out the whole story. I was far from home and didn’t want to return to my family with a lot of junk in my mind that didn’t belong there. I was uncomfortable on that street.
Bob was several years older than I and much more worldly-wise. I fully expected him to laugh again, and I felt foolish for even telling him about my feelings.
Waiting for his laughter, I looked up to find a very subdued expression on his face. After a few minutes of silence (very uncomfortable ones for me), he told me he wished he’d had a commitment like mine when he first came to school. “I wish I had crossed a few streets, Viv,” he said. “I’m ashamed to go home and see my family. I can’t look Mom in the face after some of the things I’ve seen and done.” We stood in silence for a few more minutes, but it was a comfortable one now. Then he took my arm, and we crossed the street together. We found our music store in no time at all, and had a chance for a wonderful conversation because of our roundabout route. He is now a friend I will always treasure.
I didn’t have to preach a sermon on moral and mental cleanliness. All I did was cross a street when there was something I wasn’t supposed to be exposed to on the other side. He didn’t sneer or criticize or think I was weird. By doing what I knew to be right, I actually earned his respect and friendship.

Members of the Exeter Ward Relief Society have conducted many hours of combined community service, as they have all learnt to knit and crochet. The ongoing focus of their service in the community is to provide knitted or crochet blankets for the homeless, for refugees, and for local children’s hospital. Their success was celebrated as they joined together to remember the 181st birthday for the Relief Society, the oldest women’s organisation in the world. They shared homemade food, along with stories and poems that brought personal inspiration and joy.
The Exeter Relief Society president, Donna Lewis, says, “The bishop said he wanted us to help younger and newer sisters who said they didn’t have sewing or knitting skills.”
Diane Weedon, an activity committee member, continues, “We reflected on skills our mothers, grandmothers, aunts and great aunts had role modelled, and so set out to learn, or for some of us relearn.”
Another committee member, Brenda Holford, added, “We all have different skills we can share, including patchwork, quilting, embroidery and cross stitch which we have planned to teach later this year.”
Exeter Relief Society counsellor, Gloria Lloyd, concluded “We then decided that rather than just learn, we wanted to do something with our work. We have sisters who teach, others coach and mentor, and some help with our quality control. We have started small but now meet regularly in daytime activities with a packed lunch. Sisters take it in turns to lead activities, some are planned into school holidays, once a month. I schedule an extended work lunchtime so I can attend. Our WhatsApp group is filled with photos sharing our work. There is a lovely feeling of togetherness and momentum.”

Prior to travel restrictions caused by the current pandemic, I was returning home from an international assignment which, due to scheduling issues, created a Sunday layover. I had time between flights to attend a local sacrament meeting, where I was also able to share a brief message. Following the meeting, an enthusiastic deacon approached me and asked if I knew President Nelson and if I had ever had a chance to shake his hand. I answered that I did know him, that I had shaken his hand, and that, as a member of the Presiding Bishopric, I had the opportunity to meet with President Nelson and his counselors a couple of times each week.
The young deacon then sat down on a chair, threw his hands in the air, and shouted, “This is the greatest day of my life!” Brothers and sisters, I may not throw my hands in the air and shout, but I am eternally grateful for a living prophet and for the direction we receive from prophets, seers, and revelators, especially during these times of challenge.

As a young Primary girl, I worked diligently to cross-stitch a simple saying which read, “I will bring the light of the gospel into my home.” One weekday afternoon as we girls pulled our needles up and down through the fabric, our teacher told us the story of a girl who lived on a hill on one side of a valley. Each late afternoon she noticed on the hill on the opposite side of the valley a house that had shining, golden windows. Her own home was small and somewhat shabby, and the girl dreamed of living in that beautiful house with windows of gold.

One day the girl was given permission to ride her bike across the valley. She eagerly rode until she reached the house with the golden windows that she had admired for so long. But when she dismounted from her bike, she saw that the house was abandoned and dilapidated, with tall weeds in the yard and windows that were plain and dirty. Sadly, the girl turned her face toward home. To her surprise, she saw a house with shining, golden windows on the hill across the valley and soon realized it was her very own home!8

Sungja’s next oldest brother, Cho Yong Hyun, had listened to the missionaries with his siblings. Their parents were busy running the family restaurant, and Joong Hyun, the second son, was frequently charged with caring for his younger brothers and sisters. His siblings all learned to love him and trust his judgment. “I really respected my older brother, so when he first introduced the gospel to me, I could accept it,” Yong Hyun says.
But Yong Hyun’s conversion was not based on his brother’s testimony alone; he received his own strong witness of the truth, and once a member, he dedicated himself to serving faithfully.
That dedication led him, while he was a college student, to want to serve a mission—a choice his father opposed. But Yong Hyun won his father’s consent by promising to be a better student when he returned, and he kept that promise.
Father and son would clash over the Church again some years later when Yong Hyun was offered a position with the Church Educational System. He was doing well in his job with an oil refining firm at the time, but he accepted the Church position and has served as CES coordinator in the Gwangju area of southern Korea since 1986. His father opposed the change, considering it unwise for his son to leave a good position with a prestigious firm to work for a relatively unknown church that had started in America. His father said later that he had cried bitterly over Yong Hyun’s decision and had come close to disowning him. Fortunately, the rift was healed.

Recently a father of a family of six children, who has had the sole responsibility for raising the family, beginning when the youngest was in diapers, told of the struggles in raising the family alone. One night he came home from work, faced with the problems of being both father and mother and felt unusually burdened with his responsibilities. One of his appreciative little girls, age 12 years, approached him eagerly, after having laid a rock on his dresser, which she had painted at school. On the flat portion of the rock she had written, “Happiness is having a dad who cares.” This painted rock and its sublime message instantly and permanently lightened the burden of this father.

A sister shares this story of learning to see a neighbor with Christlike eyes:
“Julia (name has been changed) lived by me and seemed to not have any friends. She always looked upset and angry. Despite that, I decided to be a friend to her. Not just a casual friend in passing, but a true friend. I spoke to her whenever I saw her and showed interest in whatever she was doing. Slowly, I created a bond of friendship with her, bringing joy in my heart.
“One day, I decided to visit Julia and ask her about her decision to not attend church.
“I learned that she has no family or relatives nearby. Her only sibling, a brother who lives far away, communicates with her only once a year by phone. As I listened to her pour out her bitterness, anger, and frustrations about her family and the Church, an undeniable feeling of compassion and love for this sister came over me so strongly. I felt her pain and frustrations. I realized just how lonely her life was. It was as though I heard a quiet phrase behind me: ‘I love her too. Love and respect her.’
“I sat and listened until she had no more to say. I felt love and compassion for her. This is a sister who has never known what it is like to be loved. Suddenly I understood her more deeply. I thanked her for allowing me to visit with her, and I left her with a hug and with my love and respect for her. She will never know how much she touched me with that visit. Heavenly Father has opened my eyes and taught me that I had a capacity to love with increased compassion. I am determined in my resolve to not only be a friend to her but also to be family to her.”

This General Authority was converted to the Church while he was in his early twenties. He met some missionaries in Hawaii who invited him to play basketball at MIA. Later, after he had heard the missionary lessons, he was baptized and became a dedicated Latter-day Saint, assuming positions of responsibility in the Church. His children speak of him this way:
“Dad has a special place in his heart for the Church sports program,” a son who is currently attending Brigham Young University said.
“My father met my mother at a community carnival. They were both assigned to the same booth. He thought she was pretty special. Soon after their marriage, Dad was called to be a branch president. He’s had one calling after another in the Church since that time.”
“My father is a kind and gentle person—a fine example of a loving father. His own father died when he was young, so all of the children went to work to help support the family. Dad got his first pair of real shoes for high school graduation. I think that working so hard when he was young helped him to be the unselfish person that he is now.
“It was difficult for my father to tell his mother that he wanted to be baptized a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He so much wanted her to understand, that he promised her: ‘I’ll never do anything to bring dishonor to you or be disrespectful to you. If I do, I’ll leave the Church!’
“My father tries humbly to excel. He does not seek praise; he just works hard. My eyes have been opened to his great qualities. It is part of our culture to work quietly, doing the best we can. My father is a rather formal person. He is dutiful, responsible, serious—but these are also traits that are part of our culture.”
“My father has tried to protect us from anything bad. He sometimes says, ‘I’ve been through that—it’s not good.’ He tries to help us learn from his experiences.”
“Tithing is very important to my father. He has a fervent testimony of its importance. Whatever success or earthly wealth he has gained he attributes to his effort to always pay a full tithing. He is also a totally honest man—honest in all of his dealings and honest with his family. Dad lives his life like an open book so he won’t be ashamed of what he does.
“Doing genealogy in our country is a difficult thing, but Dad has diligently searched for his ancestors. At this time, he is making a little progress.”
“My father shows his love to us by being a good example of a father in the gospel. He magnifies his priesthood in all of his callings.”
“My father shows his love for me through the gospel of Jesus Christ. He has given me the greatest gift a daughter could ask for by raising me with kindness and teaching me a better way to live on earth to prepare for eternal life. He is a providing father and I love him in every way.”

“One day I sat guarding our lemonade stand while Marilyn went for more ice chips. The streetcar would be along soon, and we almost always got some customers at this stop if there were ice chips in clean tin cups for the drinks. I passed the time watching the gardener. He looked so hot, even from where I sat, and he moved like he hurt more than usual. Oh, I felt so sorry for him! Then I had a great idea. I’d treat him to some of our lemonade—free. It wasn’t very cold but it was wet, and he’d know somebody cared about him. For safekeeping, I pocketed the pennies we’d taken in. Then I crossed the street with the cup of lemonade.
“‘Well, thank you,’ he said, sipping it carefully. ‘You’ve added just enough sugar.’
“Some people downed their drinks in one gulp, so of course they couldn’t tell if our mix was good or not. The gardener tasted it. He knew. Just as he knew which plants had the softest leaves and that my eyes were brown and not blue. He finished drinking and said that since I had done him such a favor, he was going to do one for me; he was going to show me a kind of miracle. We walked over to the colorful bed of coleus plants, all dark red and green trimmed and velvety. He troweled one up and put it into my hands after interlocking my fingers so the soil wouldn’t spill off the roots. I was to pot it, water it just so, and place it in a sunny window where I could watch ‘the miracle.’
“He took one ruffled leaf gently and, lifting it with his knobby fingers, said, ‘The coleus plant will lean to the light. Turn your plant every two or three days and the leaves will turn right around again and lean to the light. Try it, Elaine. You’ll see the miracle. And maybe it’s something you’d like to do with your life.’
“No wonder we held him and his handiwork in a kind of reverence!”

On May 1, 2016, the Dakar Branch was organized with Jacques Niambé as president. Under his leadership and with the help of Elder Gary and Sister Helen Parke, the branch grew steadily. In February 2018, eight members of the branch traveled to Accra, Ghana, to attend the temple. In April, less than two years after the Dakar Branch was organized, it was divided, and Alphonse Samadé was called as president of the newly organized Parcelles Branch. Just weeks later, during a visit to Dakar, Elder Ulisses Soares of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles marveled at the potential he saw in the branches in Senegal. “The little branch I attended [in Brazil as a boy] became three stakes,” Elder Soares said after his visit. “I can see a similar future in Senegal.”

As a family we consistently hold family home evening; however, my father often travels for extended periods of time for his employment. Sometimes that means he is out of town when it’s time for family home evening.
Then two years ago, when my father got his own laptop, one of my siblings wondered, “Why not have our family home evenings with Dad via the Internet?”
Since that time, when our father is away during family home evening, we simply agree on a time, and we connect. We can see and hear him, and he can see and hear us. The Internet and the computer have allowed our father to participate in our home evenings.
We do not have to depart from our established schedule: if it is Dad’s turn to give the lesson, for example, he gives it. One of our family’s traditions is to evaluate our personal goals each week; this is never interrupted anymore. And another important thing: our reading of the Book of Mormon as a family is now continual, since we no longer have excuses not to read.
My father also uses the Internet to keep in touch with us in other ways. When he is away from our home in Peru, he connects and finds out what we’re doing and where we are. And when it is time for interviews or family councils, these are carried out at the appointed time, even when he’s traveling.
There are many good and useful technological advances that we often don’t put to good use because we fear their misuse and the harm they can cause us. However, if we use such technology wisely and humbly, it can be of great help.
We feel very thankful in our family for the Internet because it has become a great tool for removing the obstacles that might otherwise keep our family apart.

I remember when I was washing the car as a 17-year-old young man, my father came out to the driveway and, with justification, began to criticize me for something I had done wrong. I became upset and turned to dad and said something like, “Hey, let up, dad. This is the first time I have ever been a teenager.”
My father, in a beautifully sensitive way, said, “Hugh, this is the first time I have ever been a parent.”
My father, perhaps unknowingly, had taught me a great lesson. As a teenager, I had responsibilities to my parents and was to be patient with them as I expected them to be patient and understanding with me.

In the U.S. I had the opportunity to develop many close relationships with Church members. I finally began to believe I did have a testimony—I can’t forget the wonderful feelings when, each time I’d ask myself a question, I would feel the Holy Ghost enlightening my soul, clearing away the doubt. I had had difficulty understanding why polygamy had been practiced. On a bus somewhere between Colorado and Utah, I glimpsed the vision, not a visual sight, but a spiritual insight, of the men who practiced it. And I saw how it was possible for such a thing to be pure, that it had come from God. That sort of clarification continued throughout my trip in the United States.
I eventually visited some islands near Seattle, Washington. There, in a small apartment, I studied the Book of Mormon for ten days. My testimony continued to grow. The time had come to return to France, and in my heart I knew I would be baptized.
Several days after I returned home, the missionaries asked me to help them teach a lesson. The investigator was a science student, and he was struggling with some of the same questions I had confronted when I was studying the same subjects. I explained to him how I had found answers to the questions, and when we left he seemed satisfied and happy.
A few days later, the missionaries called to tell me he was joining the Church. “How about that,” I told myself. “Here I am, able to help someone else accept baptism, and not myself. This has lasted long enough!” I felt I had a testimony, but I fasted and prayed. I stayed up the whole night pleading with the Lord to seal this testimony in me. Finally, early in the morning, a sweet, peaceful calm filled my soul. I knew I had to tell the elders I was ready to be baptized.
As I rounded the last corner on my way to see the missionaries, I felt a strong force trying to keep me from going. It was like walking against a 100-kilometer-per-hour wind, which I had done before, only it was stronger. But this was a spiritual “wind,” not physical. I was just about to give up and turn around. I knew this force wanted me to doubt everything, but I finally said, “No, no. I know there’s a God.” I felt that truth deep in the roots of my soul. I knew He would battle this force for me.
I reached the chapel door, just a normal chapel door, but I had to pull with all my might to force it open. When I entered I saw some members and felt their spirit, and the opposing force was gone, broken. I felt the sweet peace in my heart again, and felt it even more strongly several days later as I was baptized and confirmed. I still feel it to this day.

I had not strayed from the gospel because of disobedience or rebellion. But because of a serious medical condition, I came to know what it means to feel lost from the Lord’s flock.
After months of illness and hospitalization, I attended a fast and testimony meeting in late summer, feeling very alone. Watching individuals stand and testify of their love for the Lord, the gospel, leaders, and family, I desperately wanted to feel the same confidence, peace, and security in the gospel those around me obviously felt. But because of my physical condition, my spiritual senses were unresponsive.
Then a Brother Vance rose from his seat in the congregation. A large, strong, grandfatherly man who worked well with his hands, he related his thankfulness to the Lord for the growth of some lilac bushes that were most precious to his wife.
The Spirit bore witness to me of the truthfulness of Brother Vance’s words, and this new insight gave me the strength to continue my efforts to return to both physical and spiritual strength.
Many months later, in a new ward, with my health restored, I was called to teach seminary. Because of my experience, I was now more able to study the gospel with zeal and share that newfound strength not only with the youth in the ward, but also with a few other sheep who were contemplating straying.
Now, whenever I feel the discomforts of a new beginning, I try to remember Brother Vance’s analogy about pruning with a purpose. It helps to see my trials in a broader perspective, and I find myself praying that I shall grow in a manner that will be pleasing to the Lord and to me.

In August 2020, amidst the throes of a pandemic, Len Hurley celebrated his 100th birthday and a lifetime of service—to his family, country, and fellow members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Victoria’s COVID-19 lockdown restrictions meant no visits from family or friends, however, staff at Len’s Bentleigh East nursing home made sure it was a special day for Len, decorating the hall with balloons and making a garden-themed birthday cake to share with fellow residents.
Len’s family joined in the celebrations via Zoom. Letters from the queen and prime minister were also presented to the centenarian.