Gospel Story Finder

I remember feeling uncomfortable as I learned in college about the lives of great artists. It seemed like the truly memorable and remarkable ones had become great artists by neglecting their family and sacrificing their sanity. Great artists painted on Christmas morning while their kids opened presents. One was married six times. Another cut off his ear and sent it to his loved ones. And another even killed someone! I started to wonder if becoming a great artist while also being a great wife and mother (all while keeping my sanity!) was even possible.
My professors taught that if we really wanted to become great, we would have to make sacrifices for it. We would have to work harder than anyone else. We would have to put art first in our lives. My mind would often question, “But if an artist kept the commandments, put first things first, and had the Spirit of the Lord to direct their work, couldn’t they become just as great and possibly even greater?” This question stayed with me throughout my studies.
By the time my husband and I graduated, we had been married for a year. Elder Russell M. Nelson (at the time, he was a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles) came to speak at our graduation. A luncheon followed, and only 16 students were invited to attend. Oddly enough, both my husband I were selected to be there. When the discussion was opened for questions and answers. I raised my hand, looked Elder Nelson in the eye, and expressed my concerns about being both an artist and a mother. I had worked so hard to build my talents in school, and I wanted to continue to work hard and improve, but I also knew that motherhood took precedence. Was there a way to do both? Elder Nelson’s eyes sparkled as he replied, “Absolutely!” He encouraged me to improve upon my talents and to pray to Heavenly Father for help in knowing how I could do both and that with Him, I would be able to do things I once thought impossible. I took that advice to heart.
My husband and I now have four kids. We’ve learned the dance and the juggle of parenthood. In the beginning, I began most days at 4:00 a.m. to get some painting in before my kids woke up. I tried to paint six days a week, even if some days only allowed 30 minutes. I started each painting session with prayer, knowing I wasn’t much without the Lord’s help. I prayed not only to be enabled in my art but also to know what was most important that day and committed to putting His purposes first. Progress wasn’t fast, but it was steady.
Fast forward 12 years from my graduation day. I was having a moment of discouragement. Life seemed too full. Motherhood had been more challenging than I had anticipated. I sat at my easel crying, wondering if I would ever really be able to become the great artist I had dreamed of being. I felt impressed to pull my old journal off the shelf, and I turned to my entry on April 30, 2006, the day after my graduation. I had totally forgotten my remarkable experience with President Nelson! Somehow the whirlwind of life had almost eroded it from my memory. There before me were words from the current prophet, “Absolutely!” The tears turned to ones of gratitude as I looked back at all I had been able to accomplish since that time, and I also looked forward with hope.
A few months later, I got a call from one of the Ensign magazine’s designers, asking if they could use one of my paintings on the inside cover of the November 2018 general conference issue. I was floored! Growing up, the first thing I had always done when getting the Church magazines was to peruse them for paintings. Now one of my pieces would be in there! Then, when I was told that they wanted to pair my painting with words from President Nelson, I could see the hand of God encouraging me forward.
I still have a long way to go on my artistic journey, but I’m so thankful for President Nelson’s hope in the Lord and in us. I’m thankful for his optimism and his confidence. I know that as we exercise faith in the Lord we will be able to do great things, even things we once thought impossible. “For with God nothing shall be impossible” (Luke 1:37).

Elder Oaks further illustrates what it’s like to hesitate to share the gospel with our friends:
“Consider that you are invited to a friend’s house for breakfast. On the table you see a large pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice from which your host fills his glass. But he offers you none. Finally you ask, ‘Could I have a glass of orange juice?’
“He replies, ‘Oh, I’m sorry. I was afraid you might not like orange juice, and I didn’t want to offend you by offering you something you didn’t desire.’
“Now, that sounds absurd, but it is not too different from the way we hesitate to offer up something far sweeter than orange juice. I have often worried how I would answer some friend about my hesitancy when I meet him beyond the veil” (Ensign, Nov. 2000, 81–82).

It was often difficult for those in the 1830s to accept that the Lord spoke to them—as it is for many in our day, especially for those who call themselves intellectuals. It should not have been, but it was. One of the early “intellectuals” of the Church, William McLellin, was humbled when he decided to test Joseph Smith. He wanted some outward proof that these revelations came from God. He formulated in his mind five questions that he wanted answered that only the Lord and he would know. Without telling Joseph Smith the questions, he requested a revelation. We can read the result of this inquiry in section 66 of the Doctrine and Covenants. The Lord gave this section in answer to these five questions that only McLellin and the Lord knew. It may be interesting for you to determine if you can discover what these five questions were. As Joseph dictated that revelation, McLellin got the confirmation he sought. He then recorded his personal testimony of the divine calling of the Prophet Joseph. He said,
I now testify in the fear of God, that every question [was] answered to my full and entire satisfaction. I desired it for a testimony of Joseph’s inspiration. And I to this day consider it to me an evidence which I cannot refute. [Ensign of Liberty, p. 61]
Joseph Smith is a true Prophet . . . of the Lord and . . . has power and does receive revelations from God. [Letter from William E. McLellin to relatives, 4 August 1832, RLDS Archives, p. 4]
In spite of this witness, McLellin left the Church.

Not long ago Sister Dunn and I attended a stake conference in Marilia, Brazil. Marilia is a beautiful city of 100,000 in the southeast interior of the country. The Sunday session had just concluded. The theme was the atonement of Christ and how he is the Savior of the whole world.

Some had traveled by bus for more than three hours to be at this meeting. As we were shaking hands, a young lady came up. She first stopped in front of the mission president and asked how to say “I love you” in English. She then stood in front of Sister Dunn and me and with a broad smile and great sincerity said “I love you.” It seemed a little thing, but it touched our hearts. It was the effort of a humble follower of Christ to express herself. The message could have been said in any language and been understood.

The spirit of love reaches across language barriers. There is a purity about it that lifts the soul and causes us all to realize that we are the children of the same God.

I grew up on a farm and worked nearly every day during the summer. I hoed beets, hauled hay, and worked with cattle and horses. Farm work was not my favorite summer activity. The days were very hot, and I had to work hard to get all my chores done.
One day when I was about 11 years old, I finished some of my chores early and had some time before I had to start my next task. It was hot, so I sat under a tree to rest. I don’t know why, but I had the Book of Mormon with me. I picked up the book and started to read. To my amazement, I couldn’t put it down. For the next three or four days I continued to have extra time during my workday. In those few days, I read the whole Book of Mormon. Every time I opened the book, I was filled with a warm, calm feeling. The presence of the Spirit was strong and bore witness to me that the book was true, and because it was true, everything else I knew about the gospel had to be true too.
Though I was baptized when I was eight, reading the Book of Mormon on the farm marked the moment of my true conversion. I do not know why I had the Book of Mormon with me on the farm that day. I often read books back then, but the Book of Mormon struck me like no other book ever did.
To this day I still remember the testimony I received of the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon. It has become an anchor in my life. Since that day, I have faced many challenges, but I have never forgotten the moment I knew for myself that the Book of Mormon was true.

Utilizing this principle greatly blessed our family. In 2006, the United States was experiencing a strong economy, especially in real estate investing. We had successfully made some smaller investments before being given the opportunity to invest in a large business opportunity. It appeared to be without risk, but it would require that we go into debt by mortgaging our home.

As the father in the home, I knew it was my duty to provide for my family. I prayed and felt that I should be willing to use what the Lord had given me to profitably sustain us. I also consulted the scriptures and found that honest business investing was encouraged and acceptable to the Lord. As I moved forward in my decision, however, I pondered what the living prophets had warned about going into debt, particularly to invest in business speculation.

We decided to apply the “checks and balances” principle to my decision, and even though scriptural truths supported my personal revelation, the teachings of the living prophets did not. We decided not to invest. The following year, the housing market crashed, and a very long recession began. Had we borrowed the money, we may have lost not only our money but our home also.

When Elder Ballard was a young bishop, a rowdy nine-year-old boy caused his Primary teacher a lot of angst. After several weeks the teacher escorted the boy into the bishop’s office and said, “Bishop, here’s one of your flock. Tend it.”

Bishop Ballard wasn’t sure what to do. But at that moment an impression came: ask the child to report every week about his behavior in Primary. Bishop Ballard issued that challenge, and it changed the boy’s attitude. The child saw that he could do things differently.

“I didn’t have that idea of accountability in mind before he landed on my doorstep,” Elder Ballard says. “But the Lord, by the power of the Spirit, inspires a worthy and a righteous teacher or leader to know what to do and what to say to bring the best out of anyone, in particular our young people.”

Incidentally, that nine-year-old turned out to be “terrific,” Elder Ballard says. He served a mission, married in the temple, and became a great leader.

Shortly after Ka Po was baptized, the sister missionaries encouraged her to take an institute class. It was held early Saturday mornings, and Ka Po remembers how hard it was to wake up and get to class on time.

A classmate called Ka Po every Saturday morning to wake her up and encourage her to attend class. One day the classmate gave the responsibility of calling to King. That was the beginning of their friendship.

Ka Po says, “Church activities helped us know more about each other.” Their first date was a dance practice for young single adults.

Ka Po and King dated for four years. King helped Ka Po share the gospel with her grandmother and brother. Then on the night he proposed, he met Ka Po in the playground of the school where she was attending night school. She had just finished a big exam and was exhausted, but she felt wonderful when he asked her to marry him and gave her an engagement ring.

They were married in the Hong Kong China Temple. Ka Po says, “I will never forget the day we were sealed in the temple. It was so beautiful and amazing that we could be together for eternity. I could not stop crying, and my heart was so full I couldn’t speak. I love the temple and the great blessing that we can go to the temple in our own country.

“Our temple marriage will influence not only us, but it can influence our children and their children. It is so important that we have the same purpose and goals on earth. I love the gospel, and I love my eternal spouse.”

An episode of Studio C demonstrates this. Matt is a contestant on Who Wants to Be a Millionaire and has made it to the final question. If Matt answers correctly, he will win one million dollars.
The host asks Matt’s wife what they will do with the money if Matt wins, and she responds that it will go toward helping orphans in third-world countries. With that, the final question is given. The question is “Who was the twenty-sixth president of the United States?” Among the four choices are Theodore Roosevelt and George Washington. Matt is certain that it is not George Washington. Matt knows that George Washington was the first president of the United States. Matt thinks the answer is Theodore Roosevelt, but, to be certain, he polls the audience.
One hundred percent of the audience—which includes Matt’s wife—chooses George Washington. Matt apologizes to the audience and to his wife and tells them that he really doesn’t think it was George Washington.
Matt then is able to phone his sister for help. She just happens to be a professor of history. Matt is confident that she will know. But immediately his sister answers that it was George Washington.
Frustrated, Matt tells them that they are all wrong, that this is basic history—everyone knows that George Washington was the first president. Throughout the entire segment the host continually asks Matt, “Are you sure?” whenever Matt says that he is certain about his decision.
There is a lot at stake, and Matt is starting to succumb to the pressure and is waning in his confidence. He finally gives in, saying the twenty-sixth president must be George Washington, which is incorrect, and Matt loses the million dollars.

Brothers and Sisters, I testify that God loves you and knows you personally. Let me share an experience that helped me understand this truth. In the 1980s, my full-time starting salary was only $18,000 a year, so I was living from paycheck to paycheck with no savings in the bank. Does that sound familiar? When the appliances in the home started breaking down, first the refrigerator, then the stove, in order to provide food for my children, I had to use all the money I had to pay for new ones. A few weeks later, when tithing settlement time came around, I had to make an important decision.

Would I get caught up with the house payment, would I buy food and Christmas gifts, or would I use my paycheck to catch up on my tithing? Being a full tithe payer is important to me, not only to show obedience but, even more importantly, to show the love I have for our Heavenly Father and his Son, Jesus Christ. With faith, I chose to use my whole paycheck to pay my tithing and trusted in the Lord that all would be well. I told no one of our trials, but somehow, we had enough food on our table, and when we went to Church the Sunday before Christmas, as we left the chapel, there was a bag of presents left on our car. As we arrived home, there were more gifts left on our porch. I was grateful for earthly angels who listened with their hearts to the promptings of the Spirit to bless our little family. It is one of the most memorable Christmases we ever had.

The story doesn?t end there. though. The day before Christmas, I got a call from my Aunt Peggy, who lived 5,000 miles away in Maryland. Yes, the same persistent loving aunty who was part of our conversion story. When I answered the phone on that December night, she asked me right away, “How are you doing?” Years had passed since I last saw and spoke with her. I was too embarrassed to share my financial struggles, so I mustered up all the courage I had and replied, “Oh, we?re fine.” Then she explained that she had a dream, and in her dream, I was crying. As soon as she said that, uncontrollable tears began to flow, and I started to explain our problems.

She compassionately responded that she would put a check in the mail the very next day for $1,000 to help. For me, that was an incredible amount of money. After thanking her profusely and hanging up the phone, I couldn?t sleep. The Spirit kept stirring in my heart as I contemplated the miracle that just happened. The Lord had answered my prayer through a loving, inspired aunty, definitely one of my earthly angels. I picked up the scriptures and felt prompted to read in Matthew. I started with chapter 1 and kept reading until I got to Matthew 6, the beautiful sermon on the mount. As I read, it was as though the Savior himself was speaking to me.

There was one time when I found a card that proved to be particularly meaningful for me. I was having a very difficult time and had been praying for help quite a bit. It was during this time that I found a card from my dad. The card read, “We’re praying for you, Justin. Keep up the good work. Love, Dad.” It gave me a taste of home that I missed, and the encouragement from my dad helped me to keep working hard.
As I thought about how grateful I was to my dad, I realized that my Father in Heaven had also had a hand in sending me this message. It had come at the perfect time, when I needed it most. I was then reminded of the talk by Elder David A. Bednar of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles from the April 2005 general conference about the tender mercies of the Lord and how God leaves us little reminders throughout our lives to tell us that He loves us (see “The Tender Mercies of the Lord,” Ensign, May 2005, 99). These “business cards” from Him brighten our smiles and strengthen our faith.

On a beautiful afternoon towards the end of August, my friend and I made a discovery. Along the old railway embankment at the back of a park were scores of blackberry bushes with the biggest, juiciest fruit we’d ever seen. We hurried home to collect containers and then returned to the park to pick the blackberries. We worked methodically in the warm afternoon sun, stripping the bushes bare of their treasures until we reached the end of the path.
As we made our way back, we were surprised to see more luscious berries we had not seen before. We stopped and continued to fill our containers, amazed that we could have missed those berries the first time. At last our containers were full, and we were ready to make blackberry pie.

Ava stared at the mirror and sucked in her stomach. In her mind, she could still hear the girls from her swim team.
“Look at how your stomach pokes out! You should stand on the back row,” Mackenzie had said. Some of the other girls laughed.
Tears started rolling down Ava’s cheeks. She ran into Mom’s room. “I don’t want to be on the swim team anymore!”
Mom looked up from her desk. “What’s wrong? You love swimming!”
“I’m too fat!” Ava said. “Swimmers should be skinnier.”
Mom led Ava over to sit on the bed. “Where did you hear that?” she asked. “Athletes don’t need to be skinny. They come in all shapes and sizes.”
Ava sniffed. “Today we had team pictures, and Mackenzie said I was too chubby to be in the front row. And then Sarah said I should go on a diet.” Ava felt the tears coming again. “I’m done with swim team!” She buried her face in a pillow.
Mom stroked Ava’s hair. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “That was really hurtful. Some people think the way they look on the outside is the most important thing about them. That’s not true at all. And saying mean things about another person’s body is never OK.”
Later, Mom came into Ava’s room. “I thought you might like this,” Mom said, handing her a piece of paper.
“‘Each time you look in the mirror, see your body as your temple,’*” Ava read.
“President Nelson said that,” Mom said. “What do you think it means?”
Ava shrugged. “That my body is special, like a temple?”
“Exactly,” Mom said. “Temples are all beautiful, and they’re all built of precious materials. But no two look exactly the same. It’s what happens inside them that’s most important.”
Ava nodded. She was getting ready to go to the temple to do baptisms soon.
“A lot of people focus on if their body looks a certain way,” Mom said. “And sometimes that makes them feel bad. What’s a lot more important is how we use our bodies. Heavenly Father gave you a body to learn and grow and help people. Your body is a beautiful home for your spirit.”
Ava felt a peaceful feeling. She was pretty sure it was the Holy Ghost telling her that what Mom said was true.
“I think I’ll tape this on my mirror,” Ava said.
“Good idea,” Mom said. “When you see it, you could think about one thing your body can do.”
Ava already had one. “My lungs help me breathe when I freestyle.”
Then she frowned. “But I still wish I could be skinny.”
“Instead of focusing on being skinny, what about focusing on being strong?” Mom asked.
Mom flexed her arm, which made Ava laugh.
“I guess getting stronger will help with my swimming,” Ava said.
Ava and Mom decided on some goals—like eating more of her favorite vegetables, playing outside after school, and getting enough sleep at night.
“And now, young lady, it’s time for you to work on that sleeping goal.”
“OK, Mom!”
Instead of feeling bad about her body, Ava was beginning to feel more grateful for it. It could do a lot of wonderful things. Like swimming!
See family manual, pages 131–132; Primary manual, 130–132.

There they were again. Those ten white pins—staring straight at me. I held the heavy bowling ball in my hands and stared down the lane at them ferociously.
“This time I’m going to get you,” I told them, putting my feet in the usual position. All around I could hear the crash of pins from the other lanes. Everyone in my class had mastered the game of bowling except me.
Step one—push out, step two—swing back, step three—follow through, step four—release! I watched those ten giant pins up ahead, hoping that just one would topple over.
“Too bad,” said one of my classmates as she watched my ball hit the gutter halfway there. I was a mature college student trying to get good grades and I couldn’t even pass bowling!
I turned to see my bowling teacher standing behind me. In the past he had offered a lot of advice after my catastrophes on the lane, but I usually never listened. After all, what is there to know about bowling? I could tell another speech was coming.
“Anita,” he said, “have you read your bowling book?”
“Yeah.”
“And have you listened carefully to all my instructions on how to bowl?”
“Sure, that one-step, two-step stuff.”
“Well,” he added, “I taught a lot more than that.”
“Oh yeah. I learned it all.”
“In every class there is someone who just can’t get the hang of it, and usually it’s because they’re not following one or more of the simplest bowling rules.
“For instance, we teach you to aim for the arrows, not the pins. The pins are much too far away to aim at. If you aim at the arrows, you have a close target and the ball will still make it to the pins.”
“I always aim for the pins,” I said, finally listening to my teacher’s advice. “That’s it!” I snatched my bowling ball and took my position.
“Aim for the second arrow from the right,” I heard my teacher say.
“Aim for the arrow, aim for the arrow,” I kept saying as I did my four-step approach and let the ball slide out of my hands and across the second arrow. The target felt so close, as if I could almost touch it. After I let go, I looked up. To my surprise the ball was going straight, straight, straight—strike! I threw my arms up in the air, and I heard cheering behind.
“Now,” my teacher said, “just keep aiming for the arrows.”
His words, “Just keep aiming for the arrows,” have helped me in more than bowling. Whenever I see an obstacle, staring at me from far away, I know what to do. Instead of aiming for the big goals, I keep them in mind while I make closer goals, and set out a plan so I can realistically achieve them. Those little goals are accomplished “line upon line, precept upon precept.”
Sure, there are frustrations and setbacks, but as I face challenges I can see that I’m getting closer to what I’ve always wanted. In bowling it’s a strike. In life it is so much more.

On a rainy Saturday morning prior to a Kolwezi district conference in 2013, President Ellie Monga, Counselor in the Lubumbashi Democratic Republic of the Congo Mission and Elder Jeffrey Wright, the mission finance secretary, welcomed two strangers at the mission office. Their clothes were muddy, and they were exhausted. They arrived pushing a single, beat-up bicycle and carrying a parcel that was wrapped in a torn and dirty plastic.
President Monga and Elder Wright inquired about their journey and learned that these two tired pilgrims, Brothers Yumba Muzimba Paul and Muba Wa Umbalo Delphin, had arrived from Kinkondja, a city located 600 kilometers (375 miles) north of Kolwezi. They had departed eight days earlier as part of a larger group that was traveling to attend the district conference. En route, most of the group fell sick and decided to return to their homes—but these two brothers were determined to complete the journey by themselves, taking turns between pedaling the bicycle and riding on the back. They said that they had travelled the last three days continuously through the night without stopping and without food—and after a tire went flat, they pushed the bicycle through the rain along the muddy roads. Their bicycle was broken, and these brothers had no money for tools or parts. They had not eaten for three days. They did not know how they would fund a return to their homes.
Brother Paul and Brother Delphin explained that they represented the roughly 60 Saints living in the Kinkondja area and had come to bring tithing from those Saints and to attend the district conference. This came as a surprise to President Monga and Elder Wright as there was no officially organized Kinkondja branch of the Church. Elder Wright recorded in his journal, “It was my honor to receive [the tithing envelopes]. It was my honor to process them.” Elder Wright continued, “I have never felt like I had handled such sacred money before in my whole lifetime.”

Photograph by Allison Oberg
Sister Rachael Oberg was originally called to the Canada Montreal Mission speaking French. She was excited to serve the Lord but came home due to health reasons after serving for six months.
Sister Oberg was sad to leave her mission in Canada, but she felt prompted to continue her service and move forward with faith. Service missionaries live with immediate or extended family members, so Sister Oberg moved home with her parents and worked with her stake president to transfer to the Oregon Portland Mission, in the area where she lives.
When Sister Oberg served as a teaching missionary in Canada, she felt that she was the voice of the Lord as she taught the Savior’s gospel to others. Now, as a service missionary, she tries to serve as the hands of the Lord.
Sister Oberg said one challenge facing service missionaries “is having that sense of fulfillment in what you do and knowing that it is enough and that Heavenly Father is proud of you.”
Her approach? “It’s about that mindset shift I tried to have. You are serving someone in the hopes that you can become their friend. You are learning how to love other children of God.”
“You are serving someone in the hopes that you can become their friend.”
Under the direction of her mission leader, Sister Oberg has been able to serve in the Portland Oregon Temple, the temple’s visitors’ center, a senior center, and food pantries.
Sister Oberg shared that teaching missions and service missions, though different, are “one and the same. They are both the work. They are both bringing others to … Jesus Christ.”
One of the biggest lessons Sister Oberg’s parents learned from watching her missionary experience is that the Lord has a pattern. “He asks us to do things that are full of surprises and learning opportunities,” said Sister Oberg’s mother, “and when we do them with our whole heart, the outcome is the same: increased trust in our Savior and an increased ability to feel His love for ourselves and those we are serving.”

Our visitors were Brother Karl G. Maeser, who organized Brigham Young University under the direction of President Brigham Young, and Brother George Goddard, who had a beautiful singing voice. I can remember to this day the songs Brother Goddard had us practice in that conference.
The first one is no longer in the hymn-book, but it goes like this: “Take away the whiskey, the coffee, and the tea. Cold water is the drink for me.” This song made such an impression upon me as a boy that I can hardly drink anything but cold water even today.
I was on the train traveling between Salt Lake City and Los Angeles one time when a waiter asked, “Are you ready for your coffee?”
“No, thank you,” I answered.
“Will you have tea?” he asked.
“No, thank you,” I repeated.
“Would you like some Postum?”
“No, thank you.”
He was becoming irritated now. “What do you want to drink?”
“Cold water, please,” I requested.
His reply was, “Well, you’re the funniest man I ever did see.”

On a pier in Copenhagen, Denmark, is a bronze statue of a young woman named Kristina. Kristina stands looking out to sea toward her goal to join the Saints in Zion. The wind is blowing against her fiercely, but she does not look back. She is steadfast as she presses forward doing a very hard thing, but one she knows to be right. I love that statue, for to me Kristina represents my own Danish great-great-grandmother who chose to join the Church amid great resistance. I am grateful for her courage and testimony. On her choice that day rested not only my eternal destiny but also the destiny of generations.

In middle school, my friends told me many times that I was weird for not saying bad words. They made fun of me for it. I was starting to think that maybe they were right and that I was supposed to use those words because everyone else used them.
I wanted to be different from my friends, but I was scared that I would be alone. On Sunday, one of the speakers in sacrament meeting spoke about choosing the right no matter what. A phrase of his talk caught my attention: “Sometimes we may feel alone when we do the right things. But you’re never alone, because God is always with you.” That answered my question, and I decided that I wasn’t going to use bad language.
The next day one of my friends was using bad language. I told him that he could talk that way if he wanted to, but not in front of me. After that, he stopped using bad words when I was around. Some other kids told me that what I did was brave, and I realized that I wasn’t the only one who was uncomfortable with his language. What the speaker said was true—I wasn’t alone!
I’ve decided that if I don’t like the language someone is using, I will say something. I know that it can be hard to do what is right, but the blessings we receive from making good choices are powerful.
Tony F., Chihuahua, Mexico

The big thing about telling derogatory things about people is that in doing so we counteract the ability of others to forgive those people. Once when I was a new deacon, I found out why one of our home teaching families was not letting us visit them. I was telling my younger brother about this. My dad came up and told me I should not be repeating those things. I have come to realize that he was right, and we should not say bad things about people. Derogatory and bad things definitely do not fall under what we say we seek after in the 13th article of faith.
John Pack Lambert, 16Sterling Heights, Michigan