Gospel Story Finder

While we were serving a mission in England, our 17-year-old son, Cory, was killed in a car accident. We were able to come home to Utah for his funeral, and then we immediately returned to England to finish our mission. It was a very tender time for our entire family.
One day, shortly after returning to England, I was walking down the street and an acquaintance who had heard of the death of our son said to me: “Well, what do you think of your God now? You are serving a full-time mission for Him, and He has taken your son.” I was both shocked and hurt. I felt so sorry for this person who did not understand Heavenly Father’s plan.
The difficult experience of my son’s death helped me identify and rejoice in the blessings of peace, hope, and direction—blessings that all who truly accept and live the gospel of Jesus Christ may enjoy. I can bear witness to the words of Elder Richard G. Scott: “Please learn that as you wrestle with a challenge and feel sadness because of it, you can simultaneously have peace and rejoicing” (in Conference Report, Oct. 1995, 20; or Ensign, Nov. 1995, 17).
What are some specific things we can do to have these blessings of peace, hope, and direction in our lives? May I share with you three things that have helped me.
First, we must have complete trust in our Father’s plan of happiness and our Savior’s part in that plan. Trusting in His plan gave me peace during the time following our son’s death. I knew where our son was, and I knew Heavenly Father loved him. I had a perfect hope that because of the Savior’s Atonement Cory lived and we would be together again as an eternal family. I also had direction. I knew what I needed to do and what our family needed to do to be together forever.

After four years of trying to have another baby, Anna (names have been changed) and her husband were grateful for the birth of a daughter. But Anna found that adapting to the needs of a newborn, in addition to caring for her sons, was overwhelming. She found herself sinking into depression in spite of her best attempts to manage everything and maintain a sense of normalcy. Anna was struggling with postpartum depression.
All mothers, including Anna, know that having a baby is “supposed” to be a happy time and new mothers are “supposed” to be grateful for this incredible blessing in their lives. Yet for some women, postpartum mood disorders detract significantly from these happy feelings. Postpartum depression is manifested in many ways and can have physical, emotional, and even spiritual implications for the women who suffer from it. For instance, these women might have unrealistic expectations for themselves at a time of great transition, feeling that they should be able to do everything immediately for themselves and their newborn because they should be “super-mom” and “super-wife.”
It is important that these women—and their families—understand what postpartum depression is (and what it is not), recognize symptoms, find effective ways to manage it, and, most of all, know that there is hope for normal functioning while dealing with feelings of depression.
A woman’s experiencing postpartum depression does not mean that she is weak, that she has done something wrong, or that she is to blame for her overwhelming feelings. In most cases the state is temporary. Suffering from postpartum depression, like facing other trials, can bring us closer to the Savior as we find ways to obtain spiritual strength. As former Young Women general president Ardeth G. Kapp explained: “We know about our Savior, but it is often in our adversities that we truly find Him and know Him and love Him. … I can testify from my own experience in life that some of our heaviest burdens, disappointments, and heartaches can in time be replaced with ‘the peace of God, which passeth all understanding’ (Philippians 4:7) while we ‘wait upon the Lord’ (Isaiah 40:31).”1
For some women, giving birth creates temporary feelings of sadness that are often referred to as the “baby blues.” Symptoms—which usually appear within the first week after giving birth and can last up to 10 days—may include tearfulness, irritability, fatigue, anxiety, and emotional sensitivity with highs and lows. Baby blues are most often attributed to physical changes the mother is experiencing, but these symptoms can be aggravated by sleep deprivation, inadequate nutrition, a challenging infant, and lack of support. The baby blues are observed in all cultures across the world and affect up to 80 percent of women who give birth.
In contrast, postpartum depression is an illness with a biochemical basis. Although no one is sure what the exact cause is, researchers believe that the hormone-level shifts that occur during pregnancy and after childbirth may contribute to chemical changes in the brain. That, combined with the stresses and fatigue that accompany having a new baby, can lead to depression. About 10 percent of women who have a baby will experience postpartum depression, which typically occurs within four weeks after giving birth but can occur anytime during the following year. Many women who experience postpartum depression have had a previous encounter with depression; new mothers in this category should closely monitor their feelings so they can get help if symptoms appear and escalate.
Some women experiencing postpartum depression start to feel better within a few weeks, while others don’t feel “like themselves” for several months. But help is not out of reach: identifying symptoms is the first step to starting to feel good again.
Often, a new mother assumes that feeling depressed demonstrates weakness. She may even worry that others will think less of her if they know how she is feeling. For these and other reasons, she might not discuss her symptoms, leaving the postpartum depression to go undiagnosed and untreated.
John, speaking of his family’s experience with postpartum depression, said, “My wife, Carolyn, hid her symptoms from everyone, even me. It was hard for me to know how much she was truly suffering. I think she thought that as the bishop’s wife she couldn’t let anyone—not me, not her friends, not her mother—know what was going on.”
Dr. Cheryl Tatano Beck, a noted nurse-researcher, calls postpartum depression “a thief that steals motherhood.”2 But family members and close friends can help mitigate this “theft” by watching for its symptoms. They may notice behavioral changes in the new mother, including the following:
A depressed mood lasting most of every day.
The absence of laughter or play with the infant.
A downcast or blank facial expression.
Persistent sadness.
Comments about flaws she perceives in herself or the infant.
Indications of feelings of guilt or inadequacy.
Indecisiveness about ordinary matters.
Noticeable irritation, especially related to the infant’s fussing or crying. (See “Symptoms of Postpartum Depression” sidebar on page 30 for more internal signs that only mothers themselves may notice.)
If family members and close friends think they detect some of these symptoms but aren’t sure, they can sensitively ask the mother such questions as “Are you feeling down [or depressed or hopeless]? How long have you been feeling that way?” or “Do you feel a lack of joy in your life?” Once the mother and those closest to her recognize the symptoms, they can begin to get a handle on the depression.
Managing postpartum depression is important not only for the woman’s welfare but also for that of the infant and the rest of the family. Because the mother is often the center of her child’s social environment, her mood affects the child. And the mother’s and the baby’s well-being affect the family’s well-being.
Because this condition affects the entire family, the management of the postpartum depression is a family concern. It is important for the woman to have support from her husband, family members, and others.
Support from Family and Friends. According to “The Family: A Proclamation to the World,” “husband and wife have a solemn responsibility to love and care for each other and for their children.”3 The primary strategies for meeting the challenge of postpartum depression are to strengthen the couple’s relationship and increase the husband’s sensitivity. It is essential that the new mother have help and support from her husband in activities like these:
Taking over household tasks and the care of other children.
Limiting the number of visitors to foster a peaceful environment. (For some women, however, having visitors may help alleviate symptoms of depression.)
Helping the mother get enough rest, appropriate nutrition, and exercise.
Assisting with infant care.
Becoming educated about postpartum depression.
Giving priesthood blessings as appropriate.
Offering the gift of presence—listening, caring, and just being with her. Accompanied by a hug, a healing conversation may be just one sentence long: “This must be very hard for you.”
Encouraging the new mother to get professional assistance as appropriate.
Rachel, who experienced postpartum depression after the birth of her third child, said, “The smallest task seemed insurmountable because I lacked emotional and physical energy. I was so grateful that my husband was understanding and compassionate and assisted me in getting the help I so sorely needed.”
Postpartum depression may be difficult for a husband to understand, and sometimes he may react with confusion, frustration, anger, guilt, anxiety, or embarrassment. It may be helpful for him to engage in counseling or reading to increase his understanding of postpartum depression and to learn how he can be most helpful. His doing so can benefit both him and his wife.
Johanna, who suffered postpartum depression after having preterm twins, said, “Although the experience was challenging for Sam and me, our marriage became stronger. We became closer in our relationship than we had ever been before. We worked together to resolve issues. I relied on him for priesthood blessings. We truly communicated with each other and the Lord.”
Extended family and the Church community can augment the support of the father. Kathleen H. Hughes, former counselor in the Relief Society general presidency, spoke about her experience with postpartum depression and the help she received from others:
“After the birth of our son … , I sank into a horrible depression. Many of the women in my family suffer from postpartum depression and, as you may know, in those days medical professionals did very little to help women with this condition. I was left to fight my way out of the darkness.
“But those hard times for me were often tempered and lightened by wonderful sisters in the ward who cared for my children and who cared for me physically, emotionally, and spiritually—helping me through that emotional battle.”4
Women might find additional support through organizations for new mothers. Christine, who lived far from extended family and felt alone after she had her first baby, reported, “As I talked to other young mothers in my housing complex, I found a lot of commonalities in our struggles. It really helped—and I even found myself laughing instead of crying.”
Professional Treatment. New mothers might consider seeking professional assistance, including counseling from LDS Family Services (see www.ldsfamilyservices.org) or from an appropriate source recommended by a health care provider. For some, medication may be necessary, as prescribed by a psychiatrist or other clinician.
Taking Care of Yourself. It is vital that new mothers care for themselves by resting as much as possible, eating a nutritious diet, and taking “time out” with mothers’ groups or children’s play groups.
In addition, because motherhood is physically and emotionally demanding, mothers should set realistic goals that allow for flexibility, remembering that “to every thing there is a season” (Ecclesiastes 3:1). Elizabeth, who gave birth to four daughters in a period of just a few years, said, “It isn’t feasible to quit doing housework and cooking when there are other children needing clean clothes and lunch. I found it helpful to do just a little bit each day—one load of laundry, cleaning the bathroom sink (instead of the whole bathroom), planning the meals, and having my husband do the shopping. Feeling productive, even if it’s just a little each day, is very encouraging.”
Other Helpful Outlets. Other activities might also be helpful in managing and overcoming postpartum depression:
Listening to uplifting music.
Reading the scriptures and other inspiring books. Anna reported that she especially enjoyed reading 2 Nephi 4, which documents Nephi’s feelings of discouragement and doubt, then his growing recognition of the love of the Lord for him: “My God hath been my support; he hath led me through mine afflictions” (2 Nephi 4:20).
Keeping a journal. Rachel said, “As I wrote in my journal, I was able to articulate my feelings of deep despair. It helped me to become more aware of what seemed to trigger feelings of depression. It also helped me begin to count my blessings.”
Praying for help and comfort. Anna said, “Being depressed made it harder for me to feel the comfort of the Holy Spirit I so desperately needed. I tried to challenge the negative voices that left me feeling weaker and doubting my capacity to overcome my negative emotions.” Johanna asked herself and the Lord this question as she engaged in personal prayer and contemplation, “Heavenly Father, what am I supposed to learn from this?”
Recognizing that we can learn from our trials can strengthen our faith, even as we are in the midst of them. God does not leave us alone in our struggle to find hope. Elder Jeffrey R. Holland of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles counseled: “To any who may be struggling to see that light and find that hope, I say: Hold on. Keep trying. God loves you.”5 And He does. Sister Patricia Holland, Elder Holland’s wife, once invited us to return to “the wholeness of our soul, that unity in our very being that balances the demanding and inevitable diversity of life.”6
Anna explained the process she went through: “As I struggled to overcome postpartum depression, I sought to get beyond the darkness and into the light, the light of the Son of God. I wept as I read Isaiah 53:3–4, understanding fully for the first time that the Savior was ‘a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief. … Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows.’ I held on to the promise that the Savior was my personal Savior, that He had been sent to ‘give unto [us] beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness’ (Isaiah 61:3). As I looked toward the Savior, I realized more fully that He knew my pain, that He could sensitively succor me as I reached out to Him.”

Many years ago in Cuzco, high in the Andes Mountains of Peru, Elder A. Theodore Tuttle and I held a sacrament meeting in a long, narrow room with a door that opened onto the street. It was night and it was very cold.

While Elder Tuttle spoke, a little boy, perhaps six years old, appeared in the doorway. He was naked except for a ragged shirt that went about to his knees.

On our left was a small table with a plate of bread for the sacrament. This ragged street orphan saw the bread and inched slowly along the wall toward it. He was almost to the table when a woman on the aisle saw him. With a stern toss of her head, she banished him out into the night. I groaned within myself.

Later the boy returned. He crept along the wall, glancing from the bread to me. He was near the point where the woman would see him again. I held out my arms, and he came running to me. I held him on my lap.

Then, as something symbolic, I set him in Elder Tuttle’s chair. After the closing prayer, much to my sorrow, he darted out into the night.

When I returned home, I told President Spencer W. Kimball about him. He was deeply moved and spoke of it in a conference talk. He told others of it and said to me more than once, “That experience has far greater meaning than you have yet come to know.”

I have never forgotten that little street orphan. Many times in South America I have looked for him in the faces of the people. When he comes back into my mind, others come with him.

Over the years, I have wondered what President Kimball meant when he reminded me of that street orphan in Cuzco and repeated, “That experience has far greater meaning than you have yet come to know.” One day he added, “You held a nation on your lap.”

Now in my 78th year, I understand what President Kimball was seeing; I know what he meant. That boy in Cuzco and the one in Japan and the other children about the world profoundly influence what I think and how I feel and what I pray for most earnestly. I constantly think of little children and their parents who struggle to raise them in ever more perilous times.

I was worried. My Primary teacher had asked me to give a talk the next week in sharing time. “You could bear your testimony about prayer,” she had said. We had just talked about prayer in our class.
I had prayed many times. I always said my own prayers, and I often prayed during family prayer. I had prayed for blessings on the food many times too, and I had prayed in Primary before. But now I wasn’t sure I had a testimony of prayer or if I understood how prayer could help me. “Does someone really hear me when I pray?” I wondered.
I went to the kitchen, where my mother was getting dinner ready.
“Mama,” I said, “how can I bear my testimony of prayer when I’m not sure I have a testimony of it?”
My mother put her arm around me. “Why don’t you give a lesson about prayer in family home evening tomorrow, and we’ll talk about it together,” she said.
My mother helped me find stories and conference talks about prayer. Then I began to prepare for family home evening and for my Primary talk.
When I gave the lesson on Monday, my mother and father told me how prayer had helped them. I gave my Primary talk the next Sunday too, but I didn’t feel much different. I still wondered if I had a testimony of prayer. I prayed sincerely about my doubts, but the answer didn’t come right away.
One day my father came home after looking for work all day with no success. He was very sad. He had been out of work for many weeks. I ran to him and hugged him, as I always did.
“Don’t be sad, Papa,” I said. Then suddenly I felt something in my heart. “We need to pray,” I said.
“Right now?” my father asked.
“Yes, right now,” I said. “I believe Heavenly Father will hear us.”
We knelt together and prayed, asking Heavenly Father to comfort us.
After the prayer we read the scriptures, as we did each night, and then sat together and talked. I noticed that little by little our sadness was replaced with the happiness we always had in our home. I felt different—as though we were safe and protected, and I knew that everything would be all right. It was a wonderful feeling.
Mama noticed it too. “Can you feel it, Lucas?” she asked quietly. “The Holy Ghost is comforting us, helping us know that we are not alone.”
“Yes, I feel it,” I said. I knew that Heavenly Father heard our prayer.
It was a night that I will never forget. Now I have my own testimony of the power of prayer.

I am very happy to express my joy and gratitude for the fact that the last issue of L’Étoile (the former name of the Church’s French magazine) and the first issue of Le Liahona (the current name of the Church’s French magazine) helped put me on the path of the restored gospel, which I had been seeking for many years.
Disappointed by the false teachings that met me everywhere I turned in life, I had decided never to enter a church of any kind until Jesus Christ Himself returned and announced His gospel in person. The presentation and contents of the articles in the magazine, however, led me to the truth as restored through the Prophet Joseph Smith. I am again attending church, this time the true Church of Jesus Christ.Fidele Kituma-wa-Talanzambi, Mbuji Mayi Branch, Democratic Republic of Congo Kinshasa Mission

I have also had to repent. Before I repented, my friends all knew what was going on, and I felt like I was letting everyone down. My family relationships were bad too. It helped to talk to my parents. They were upset, but they supported my decision to change. I lost a lot of friends, but the ones I have now love me even though I made some bad choices. It helps to pray to Heavenly Father. He knew what I was going through and helped me through the trial. He will help anyone who asks for help.
Allisyn G., 16, Utah, USA

Carolyn not only serves her family but helps them serve their neighbors. Three years ago there was a drought in New Jersey. When rain finally came, it came in the form of Hurricane Floyd. Suddenly there was too much water. The Foxes could not leave their neighborhood because all the roads to it were flooded. Their whole neighborhood was without power for four days.
Their home didn’t get flooded, but nearly every other house in their area had seven to eight feet of water in its basement. “The stream in our backyard turned into a river. For a while the children sailed down it on their boogie boards,” Sister Fox said. “But they soon gave that up and went and helped people.”
The Foxes own a large pump and spent the next four days pumping out basements. It was a marvelous experience for them. They got to know their neighbors, and their neighbors got to know them. While Dad ran the pump, Carolyn, Katie, Adam, and David swam around the basements trying to save some of the families’ possessions.
“Our children came to realize that possessions aren’t very important,” Sister Fox said. “If the families were OK, everything else would be OK. It unified the whole neighborhood, and all our neighbors found out we are members of the Church.”

A true story from the USA.
“Are we there yet?” Justina asked.
“Almost,” Grandma said. The car turned around the corner, and there it was! The temple stood tall on the hill. It was so beautiful!
Justina and her family were here for the temple dedication. Mom said it was an important meeting where an Apostle would give a special prayer inside the temple. Then the temple would be ready for Church members to perform ordinances inside. “Temple dedications are broadcasted so members of the Church can watch them from their church buildings,” Mom explained. “But we are lucky to be able to attend the dedication inside the temple.”
Outside the temple doors, they were given white plastic covers to put on their shoes. Justina thought they looked silly. “Why do we have to wear these?” she asked Grandma.
“They protect the new carpets,” whispered Grandma. “Remember, we need to whisper inside the temple, OK? We want to be reverent in the Lord’s house.”
As they walked through the temple, Justina stared up at the high ceilings. It was so quiet that she wanted to walk on her tippy-toes and hold her breath. She was amazed when they began to walk up a spiral staircase. The stairs seemed to go on forever.
Finally they arrived at the room where her family would watch the dedication. “This is called a sealing room,” Grandma said quietly. “Do you know what happens here?”
Justina shook her head no.
“This is where families are sealed together forever. That means they can live together in heaven after they die. Look at the mirrors.” Grandma pointed to mirrors on both sides of the room. “See what happens when you look at your reflection?”
Justina looked in one of the mirrors and saw her reflection repeated over and over.
“Wow,” Justina said, making sure to whisper this time. “It goes on forever.”
As the dedication began, Justina thought about her family. Her parents were divorced. And she knew they hadn’t been sealed in the temple.
She looked at her mom and siblings sitting next to her. Would she get to be together with them in heaven? What if I can’t be with my family forever because we’re not sealed? That thought made her feel scared and worried.
Justina leaned close to Grandma and asked, “What happens if you aren’t sealed to your family?”
Grandma thought for a minute. Then she said, “I don’t really know, honey. But I do know that God loves us and wants us to be happy.”
Justina thought about that as she listened to the next speaker. Soon the dedication was almost over. It was time to sing “The Spirit of God.”
As Justina stood and sang, she felt a warm feeling in her heart. She knew the Holy Ghost was telling her that everything would be OK. She felt like her faith was growing.
When the song ended, Justina gave Grandma a hug. She didn’t have all the answers, but she had faith that God loved her and her family very much. She knew she could trust Him.

Members are eager and open in sharing their newfound faith with others. Dr. Clement Nwafor, for example, was introduced to the gospel by Reuben Onuokoa, the father of one of his patients. Dr. Nwafor is the chief medical officer for more than one million Nigerians and is a prominent and popular citizen in the Aba, Nigeria, area. When Brother Onuokoa took his daughter to Dr. Nwafor for a medical examination, he told Dr. Nwafor that, despite his titles and positions, he still lacked one thing: “serving the Lord who has brought you into this universe.”

Not long after that bold declaration, Dr. Nwafor accepted the gospel. “I felt like a new person,” he said. “I felt like somebody who was born again.” Less than six months after Dr. Nwafor’s baptism, he was set apart as a high councilor when Elder Neal A. Maxwell organized the first West Africa stake in Aba, Nigeria, on 15 May 1988.

Not long after we were sustained as members of the Sunday School general presidency this past April conference, President Roger Merrill and I were privileged to meet with a senior member of the Quorum of the Twelve regarding our new responsibilities. The third member of the new presidency, Brother William Oswald, was unable to join with us because he was still serving as president of the Russia Vladivostok Mission. Soon after we entered the office of this beloved apostle, he invited me to tell him about myself. Feeling overwhelmed but also sensing his kindness and support, I shared a 30-second “abridged version” of my life story. He urged me to tell him more, which I did.

After sharing more of my story and discussing various aspects of what I had said, this member of the Twelve looked me directly in the eye and said, “Brother Judd, thank you for sharing your story, but you have missed something.”

I responded by saying, “I’m sorry. Please help me understand what I have missed.”

He simply said, “You tell me.”

I soon realized that although I had mentioned my family, they hadn’t been the focus of what I had shared. He then asked me to tell him more about my family, including my ancestors, and afterward he provided counsel to Brother Merrill and myself that in all we did in our new callings and in our personal lives, we should always keep our families and the families of the Church a top priority. That is a lesson I will never forget.

Jason Smyth, a member of the Londonderry Branch, Belfast Northern Ireland Stake, never dreamed of becoming a star athlete. In fact, the Northern Ireland teen always considered himself an average sportsman, perhaps even more so because he suffers from Stargardt’s disease, a hereditary condition that has destroyed all but his peripheral vision.
However, at 16, Jason’s hidden talent emerged and a PE teacher encouraged him to attend a sprinting training day. Eighteen months later Jason qualified for the Junior Commonwealth Games in Australia. The competition would be a turning point in his life.
“It was there I began to understand and realize what this was all about. For training so little and to qualify already, I just kind of thought I would like to make a career out of this,” says Jason.
Now, three years later, Jason has made quite the career. He has won the 100m and 200m races at both the 2006 Paralympic Games in Holland and the 2005 European Paralympic Championships in Finland, setting record times for both races in each competition. He also holds the Junior Irish record times for the 60m (6.91 seconds) and the 100m (10.61 seconds) races.
Despite such success, as a 19-year-old, Jason heeded the prophet’s counsel and applied to serve a mission. But, because of his visual impairment, his application was denied. Jason graciously accepted the decision and also accepted a new challenge: to find other ways to serve.
Jason’s success as a sprinter has opened less conventional forms of missionary work.
“I now have an opportunity to be a missionary in a different way—through sprinting,” says Jason.
He has found that rather than knocking on doors, he can bring the Church out of obscurity by sprinting past finish lines and setting new records, all the while setting a good example.
Already, Jason’s success has created a buzz as others find out about the Mormon sprinter who doesn’t train on Sundays and also abstains from tea, coffee, alcohol, and drugs.
His success has made him the subject of several media-related publications—including Ireland’s biggest newspaper. Many mention his Mormon lifestyle.
“When they get to know me, they know the way I live my life is different,” Jason says.
Jason competes in both outdoor and indoor competitions, so he trains virtually all year. His practices usually last up to two hours and are twice a day.
Then there’s the travel. In the last three years, Jason has visited countries such as China, Finland, Portugal, Sweden, Holland, and Hungary. Last spring he spent time training at Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah.
With increased success, doors continue to open for Jason. Last year he received an Irish Sport Grant, which enabled him to employ a full-time coach and secure sponsorships.
With each success, Jason has to give more time and energy. He understands what is expected of him. “It is my career,” he says.
Though training and racing keep him busy, Jason makes sure that his free time is reserved for his family, which Jason says is the root of his success.
“My family had a big part to play in the start. They encouraged me to keep up sprinting and see how I do. They take me to training and watch me race,” he says.
In addition, Jason also finds strength in the Church.
Although the Church is relatively small in Northern Ireland, Jason has inherited Irish pioneer heritage. His grandparents were baptized in Ireland in 1957, and his parents have remained strong in their membership.
Jason continues to build on this heritage. Even though he was the only member in his school, he graduated from seminary through independent study. He also finds time to serve as a branch missionary.
He credits his strong testimony of the gospel to his family, especially his parents.
“My parents taught us by example the way to live our lives,” he says.
Jason also mentioned that attending Church activities and socializing with friends who lived the same principles are another source of strength for him. “People at my branch are very supportive of me,” Jason says. “They like seeing me do well.”
As for his future, Jason’s long-term goal is to qualify for the London Olympics in 2012. But for now, Jason just wants to secure a second consecutive championship at the 2008 Paralympics in Beijing and to qualify for the Under-23 Championships in Hungary this July.
Jason says that one of his greatest achievements so far is making a life out of something he enjoys. He has learned to be self-sufficient and feels he has matured through his experiences.
“Being able to travel the world and getting paid to run—for me, nothing is better,” he says.
For Jason, the experience has been a powerful lesson that with a lot of hard work and dedication, anyone can achieve their dreams. “You just have to work hard if you really want it—and enjoy it as well,” he says.
For more on serving despite challenges, read “Determined to Serve,” New Era, Mar. 2007, p. 48.

A few years ago as our youngest daughter was preparing to leave for her mission, she asked if I had ever tried to contact the young missionary who had taught me.
“I have thought about him over these many years,” I replied, “but I don’t know how to contact him.”
Within 10 minutes she came back and said, “Here’s his phone number.”
When I got ahold of him, we had a long conversation. He asked for my email address so he could “bring me up-to-date on his life.” In his email the next day, he told me he hadn’t been a member of the Church for more than 40 years and hoped I wasn’t disappointed.
“How could I be disappointed?” I immediately emailed him back. “You changed my life!”
We exchanged more emails and agreed to meet. Soon I drove to his home, where he invited me in and introduced me to his wife. As we talked about our past, I asked him if he had a Book of Mormon. He went upstairs and returned with a copy. I took the book, looked him in the eye, handed the book back to him, and said: “I know this book is true! If you read Moroni 10:4 and pray about it, you can also gain a testimony of its truthfulness.”
Over the next several months, he read, prayed, and repented. Soon his 18-year-old son rebaptized him, and I had the blessing of confirming him.
I know that my daughter was inspired to ask her question, and I know that Heavenly Father prepared the two of us for a 45-year reunion. I have learned the power of the Book of Mormon. I have also learned to never give up on someone who has wandered from the Church.

Some of the young women of the Wellington New Zealand Stake got a chance to check out how their ancestors must have felt—paddling a mile in their canoes so to speak. Stake leaders arranged for them to try paddling some of the long, narrow, unstable canoes, much like those from hundreds of years ago, in the Wellington Harbor. It was an experience that dampened their spirits and everything they had on.
“We sunk. We had to get out and turn the canoes over,” said Leah Schwenke, 16, of the Wellington Ward, describing that day. “It’s hard. You have to get the rhythm right. Some of the girls are paddling to one rhythm, and the others are paddling to another. And the rest stand on the shore and laugh at you.”

This principle reminds me of a story written by Stephen Robinson called The Parable of the Divers. It is about an experience he had as a young boy when he and his friends participated in a diving competition as part of their community’s summer recreation program. The boys were all pretty good divers with their own backyard pools and diving boards.

Another young boy from a less affluent part of town also entered the competition. Although he didn’t have his own pool, Stephen admitted that what this boy did have was “raw courage” as he repeatedly gave his best effort.

While Stephen and his friends all did crisp but safe swan dives, back dives, and jackknives, with arched backs and pointed toes, the lone scrappy diver attempted back flips, one-and-a-halves, doubles, and other challenging dives although his toes were never pointed, and he almost always missed his vertical entry.

The young Stephen kept a running tally of the diving scores in his head and was shocked when it was announced that the courageous but sloppy diver had won the competition. He was sure an injustice had been perpetrated, so he stormed the judges’ table and demanded an explanation. The scorer simply said, “Degree of difficulty. You had better form, but he did harder dives. When you factor in the degree of difficulty, he beat you hands down, kid.”

Stephen Robinson recalled, “Until that moment I hadn't known that some dives were awarded ‘extra credit’ because of their greater difficulty. . . . Whenever I am tempted to feel superior, . . . the parable of the divers comes to my mind, and I repent. At least at a swim meet, we can usually tell which dives are the most difficult. But here in mortality, we cannot always tell who is carrying what burdens: limited intelligence, chemical depression, compulsive behaviors, learning disabilities, dysfunctional or abusive family background, poor health, physical or psychological handicaps—no one chooses these things.”

Brother Robinson concluded, “Enduring to the end doesn't have much to do with suffering in silence, overcoming all life’s obstacles, or even achieving the [Latter-Day-Saint] ideal of ‘pointing our toes’ and ‘keeping our feet together.' It just means not giving up. It means keeping to the best of our abilities the commitments we made to Christ . . . It means not rejecting the blessings of the Atonement that He showered upon us when we entered His Church and kingdom.”

There was a time in my life when my circumstances as a single, working woman created more interest in those not of my faith than in those in my religious community. The attention and genuine interest in who I was by my friends who were not Mormons was compelling and began to affect my activity in my ward. I was drawn to those who were interested in me, rather than to those whose comments indicated that their focus was primarily on what I wasn’t—not married, not dating enough, and not available because of my work schedule. However, one visiting teacher paid attention to me. She learned about my interests, about my schedule, and asked that I teach a specific Relief Society lesson on a Sunday when she knew I would be in town. Her attention changed my experience in the Church. Later I could see better how my contribution could have been different. I could have been more forgiving, I could have articulated my needs, I could have judged less, I could have been more accepting of my own difference within my ward community. I could have offered to be of more use to the Lord. But at that time, it was her attention that enabled me to regenerate my growth.

Recently three generations of a family were grieving at the death of a five-year-old boy. He died accidentally while with his family on a vacation. I was granted the opportunity to watch once again how the Lord blesses the faithful with relief and the strength to endure.
I watched the way the Lord made their great burden lighter. I was with them as the Lord’s covenant servant—as you will be often in your life—“to mourn with those that mourn … and comfort those that stand in need of comfort.”
Because I knew that was true, I was pleased and at peace when the grandparents invited me to meet with them and the parents of the little boy before the funeral.
I prayed to know how I could help the Lord comfort them. They sat down with me in our living room. I had warmed the room on a cold night with a small fire in the fireplace.
I had felt to tell them that I loved them. I told them that I had felt the Lord’s love for them. In just a few words I tried to tell them that I mourned for them but that only the Lord knew and could experience perfectly their pain and grief.
After saying those few words, I felt impressed to listen with love while they talked about their feelings.
In the hour we sat together, they spoke far more than I did. I could feel in their voices and see in their eyes that the Holy Ghost was touching them. In words of simple testimony, they spoke of what happened and how they felt. The Holy Ghost had already given them the peace that comes with the hope of eternal life, when their son, who died without sin, could be theirs forever.
When I gave them each a priesthood blessing, I gave thanks for the influence of the Holy Ghost that was there. The Comforter had come, bringing hope, courage, and increased strength for all of us.
That night, I saw demonstrated how the Lord works with us to lighten the loads of His people. You remember in the Book of Mormon when His people were nearly crushed by the burdens placed upon their backs by fierce taskmasters.
The father and the mother of the little boy bore witness of the Savior that evening in my living room. The Holy Ghost came, and all were comforted. The parents were strengthened. The burden of grief did not disappear, but they were made able to bear the sorrow. Their faith increased. And their strength will continue to grow as they ask for it and live for it.

Through a series of tender mercies as a young doctor coming out of medical school, I was accepted for pediatric residency training in a high-powered, competitive program. When I met the other interns, I felt like the least intelligent and least prepared of all. I thought there was no way I could measure up to the rest of the group.
Early in our third month, I was sitting in the nurse’s station in the hospital late one night, alternately sobbing to myself and falling asleep as I tried to write the admission orders for a small boy with pneumonia. I had never felt so discouraged in my life. I didn’t have any idea how to treat pneumonia in a 10-year-old. I began to wonder what I was doing there.
Just at that moment, one of the senior residents put his hand on my shoulder. He asked me how I was doing, and I poured out my frustrations and fears. His response changed my life. He told me how proud he and all of the other senior residents were of me and how they felt like I was going to be an excellent doctor. In short, he believed in me at a time when I didn’t even believe in myself.

Sabine Isaksen would like to teach the world to sing.
She’s made a pretty good start in her corner of Norway. When she was a little girl, she taught Primary songs to her nonmember friends. They would all swing on the playground equipment and sing songs at the top of their lungs about being sunbeams and families being forever.
As she grew up and became more serious about her music, she translated lyrics of Young Women songs from English to Norwegian and set a goal to teach one of the songs to the Young Women of the Hokksund Branch. After the young women performed the song in sacrament meeting, Bernt Isaksen, the branch president and Sabine’s father, said, “I think they surprised themselves. They sound good when they sing.”
“I have this joy inside when I play or sing,” Sabine says. “I love to teach music; then others can share the joy.”
Sabine’s joy has expanded as her own testimony of the gospel has become strong. “I felt I had to know for myself if what I believe is the right thing. I also decided to receive my patriarchal blessing. I did a lot of praying and searching and talking to people and asking questions and finding out for myself. But everything fits. You get this feeling inside that, of course, this is the right thing. It is so amazing.”
One scripture that especially speaks to Sabine is in Doctrine and Covenants 88:63. [D&C 88:63] It talks about seeking and finding, asking and receiving the answers, knocking and opening. For her, it works. “It’s so clear. If you do this, that will happen.” And as Sabine finds the answers and draws near to the Lord, she brings her friends with her, introducing practically everyone she meets to the gospel. Missionary work is so natural to her; it’s just a part of her life.
For a moment Sabine is sitting and talking about serious things, but it’s rare to find her so still. A few moments later, she has to run. She has promised to accompany a friend on the piano as he sings, and they have to practice. She’s late for her Young Women activity. She’s leaving the next day on a school trip. Her friends are waiting in the car. She becomes a blur. But as she whirls past, there’s the distinct sound of music.
Terje Kristian Pedersen loves music. To him, the emotions in classical music best express his own feelings. “When I have problems, I can feel some of the feelings in the music. I can get them out and leave those expressions behind in the music.”
And his feelings may be a little more complicated and sophisticated than other teens his age. He has had to overcome some prejudice and harassment by his peers both for being a Latter-day Saint and for being born without one ear. Yet he has endured by learning from the faith of his parents. Through kindness he has turned the very ones who were teasing and harassing him into his best friends.
Terje, as he is called at school, was named after his father. That’s why he answers to Kristian at home. His parents are deeply involved in music. His mother studied music both in Norway and in the United States. His father is a music teacher in the schools. Although they taught their son and their two young daughters to love music, their most important family heritage is in the Church. Kristian is a third-generation member. His family has been involved in the Church in Norway for many years.
Even so, Kristian has searched out the gospel for himself. He has found great power in the words of Isaiah. To Kristian, the prophet’s words reverberate down through the centuries and speak to him of Jesus Christ. In Isaiah 53:3–12 [Isa. 53:3–12], Isaiah speaks of the Savior bearing our grief and carrying our sorrows. Kristian could understand these words at a young age. “Christ went through the suffering, so he understands what we are going through here,” says Kristian. “It brings us closer to him. Our sorrows become easier because of him.”
Working through some of the obstacles in his life has made Kristian kinder and more empathetic. He’s the one who is a good friend to people of other religions. He is the one who sticks up for others that may be overlooked or teased. Now that he has turned 18, he can help other young men make good choices as he serves in his new calling in the Sandvika Ward as second counselor in the Young Men presidency in charge of Scouting.
Kristian and his father sometimes play piano duets. It seems appropriate. His dad was the one who taught him to play and love the music. His father and mother were also the ones to teach him the gospel. The theme of love and testimony continues and strengthens into the next generation.
What a choice Heidi Heistø had to make! Should she become a doctor or a professional musician? Both paths were open to her. Both were wonderful ways to serve her country and her fellowmen. Both were traditions in her family. Both seemed attainable. She has the talent in both areas.
So Heidi didn’t choose. She decided to pursue both. She had completed her high school years with a fine academic standing and was accepted into three medical schools and auditioned and was accepted into music conservatory. Soon she was spending every minute either at school or studying or practicing. After two quarters of this killer pace, she was tired and confused. She felt she was not giving either school her best. When she asked friends and relatives what she should do, the answers were of little help. Some said, “Oh, if you have the possibility of going to medical school, you must do that.” Others said, “Oh, you are so talented in music. Of course, you must do that.” Heidi was very confused.
Heidi had been taught by her mother, Karin, and her grandmother how to search out the guides in her life. She had learned in church that she had an eternal friend who will always listen. She turned to Heavenly Father in prayer. She also asked for and received a blessing from her home teacher. The blessing said that she had her agency and that she should pray about her decision. As she prayed, her answer became more clear. She should devote herself to music. Her fears about not being skilled enough lessened.
She turned to her patriarchal blessing, which encourages her to develop her musical talent. She had started with the violin at age seven even though she had been begging to start much earlier. Then her instructor suggested she change to the viola because the warm, somber tones of that instrument complimented her technique and temperament. And Heidi found she preferred the beautiful tone. Now she has chosen her course and is devoting her schooling to music.
The enduring note in Heidi’s life is the gospel. In a class taught by a favorite teacher, Heidi and her classmates were asked if anyone was a member of another church besides the Norwegian state church. Heidi and another boy were the only ones who raised their hands. She was then asked if she would take class time to answer questions. She talked about the Church and answered questions for a solid hour. Then the class requested a second hour. Heidi had lived and learned in such a way that she was prepared for this opportunity, just as she was prepared for the other opportunities that have come to her.
What does heaven sound like? Maybe Sabine, Kristian, and Heidi have a clue. They seem to hear it when they perform and study music. For each of these three, testimony of the gospel resonates in their lives like an eternal chord.

Meg wanted to be perfect. She brushed her hair until it was perfectly shiny. She kept her hands perfectly clean. She kept her clothes perfectly neat.
Meg didn’t like messy sandboxes. She hated it when one shoelace was longer than the other. And she really didn’t like dirt. Playing tag looked like fun … but she might mess up her hair or get her shirt dirty!
On Meg’s birthday, her mommy and daddy gave her a special gift. It was a puppy! He was tan with white paws and soft brown eyes.
“Oh, I love him!” Meg said. “I’m going to call him Mittens.”
The next day, Meg played with Mittens in the yard. She threw the ball over and over again. They had so much fun. Then Mittens jumped into Meg’s lap. With dirty paws!
“Eww!” Meg yelled. “Mommy! Mittens got me dirty!”
Mommy came outside. She gave Meg a hug. “Puppies are messy,” she told Meg. “I know it’s hard for you. But I hope you can have fun with Mittens, even if it means getting a little dirty.”
Meg looked down at Mittens. She wanted her clothes perfectly clean. But she also wanted to keep playing with her puppy. She loved him!
“I guess it’s OK to get a little messy sometimes,” Meg said.
Days went by. Meg kept playing with Mittens. Sometimes he drooled a little on her clothes. Sometimes he drooled a lot on her clothes! After a while, Meg worried less about the mess. Mittens was fun to play with! He was always happy to see her.
Soon Meg started trying other new things. She waded in the lake with her family. She played in the sandbox. She played tag at recess.
One day, Mommy even had to remind Meg to change her dirty clothes! But Meg didn’t mind. Things didn’t need to be perfect for her to feel happy.

Even Elder Maxwell’s young grandchildren knew him for his emphasis on the scriptures. Many of you will probably remember that in his final general conference message he told about a time he visited his grandchildren late one evening. His grandson Robbie had already gone to bed. When Elder Maxwell arrived, his mother said, “Robbie, Grandpa Neal is here!” He heard a tired little voice from the bedroom saying, “Shall I bring my scriptures?” (CR, April 2004, 48; or “Remember How Merciful the Lord Hath Been,” Ensign, May 2004, 46). Like Josiah the boy-king and little grandson Robbie, we should learn early in our lives to love the scriptures, to feast upon them, and to learn from them.