Gospel Story Finder

The puppy was slobbering all over my clothes and nibbling my hands with his sharp baby teeth as we sat alone outside in the dark. The disorder and disarray of my home and the piles of dirty dishes and laundry made me want to run screaming into the night. I felt crushed by the burden of my general household tasks.
Then my calling as Relief Society president, never far from my attention, came to mind. I thought of all the sisters I needed to encourage, the tasks I needed to do, the meetings I needed to organize, the lessons I needed to teach, the interviews I needed to have.
Then I thought of each of my five children. They needed me to teach them, to guide them, to help them gain faith and strength.
I remembered our exchange student and her needs. I was still learning how to develop a friendship with her and was finding it hard to bridge the cultural divide and find a common ground.
Then I considered my husband and how little time I had been able to give him lately. I could see he was struggling and needed me too.
I didn’t know how to fit it all in. I couldn’t take all these heavy burdens anymore. My strength was spent.
I pleaded with my Father in Heaven for help with all I was carrying.
The soft response came. “What would you have me take away?”
It shot through my heart like lightning.
“Take away?”
I did the mental math. My house, despite the disorder, was mine. I was so grateful for it. I had painted its walls, built shelves, and made it a home. I would hate to have it taken away. I would keep that burden with a grateful heart.
I reviewed my calling as Relief Society president. It was heavy and took much of my time, but it was helping me grow. I had learned so much, and I loved the sisters so deeply now. I wanted to learn more, and I knew I had promised to serve the Lord willingly. I would gratefully keep this burden too.
Next, thoughts of each of my precious children penetrated my heart. I love being a mother. I am so grateful I could bring these wonderful spirits into the world and watch them grow and develop. They each have a permanent place in my heart. I want them all with me on this journey of learning and growing and loving. What heartache I would feel to lose any of them.
Even though developing a relationship with our exchange student was sometimes a struggle, she was teaching me about a new culture, and I was enjoying the experience. I could see how loved and valued she was to our family. She was becoming as dear to me as my own children, and I wanted her in my life. She needed to stay.
My dear husband was my helpmeet through it all. He encouraged me and helped me carry the heavy load. I couldn’t imagine life without him by my side. What a blessing he was.
The puppy crawled about at my feet. He was my newest burden. He had come to us very sick and with a broken leg. We had prayed as a family for him to be healed. Slowly, he had gotten better, and now I watched him happily attempt to stand and to crawl. He stumbled a bit still, and I knew I would need to spend many hours helping him walk and run. He was the most obvious thing to give up, but I loved this little bundle of slobber too. Cheerfully I would accept this burden as well.
I felt humbled. With a new perspective, each of the burdens fit well into my heart. I did not want any to be taken away. I bowed in gratitude to my Father in Heaven for this lesson. I told Him I wanted to keep what I had been given and I thanked Him.
My steps were lighter and my future felt brighter as I carried the puppy inside that night. While my burdens had not been lifted, I had been shown what I had forgotten: each of these “burdens” was actually a blessing and evidence of God’s love for me. I also knew that I did not have to carry them alone—as I turned to Him, the Savior would strengthen me and offer me His rest (see Matthew 11:28–30).
The author lives in Idaho.

A man in Ecuador met some missionaries on the street near his home and invited them in. They left tracts, pamphlets, and a copy of the Book of Mormon. He read them and liked them and later said of the missionaries:
“I liked their teachings. They taught me things my own church had never taught. I realized I had to live the commandments they told me about. The Word of Wisdom has given me a new life. I know it is of the Lord not to use tobacco, tea, coffee, or liquor. When the elders were teaching me, I knew I had to live it if I were to have a good life. The elders told me to pray about it; then they had to teach me how to pray.”

In Finland a woman, lost and lonely following the death of her husband, was found by missionaries who answered some of her questions. She said:
“I was amazed at their answers. They talked about a reunion with my husband. We had had a wonderful marriage, and I just couldn’t think that it would end just like that. My minister had given me no answers, but those young missionaries told me a beautiful concept of eternal life. I listened in tears and wanted to hear more.”
She studied and read the Book of Mormon, received a testimony, and was baptized.
A convert in England tells his story. Bitter over the death of an infant who had died without baptism and was therefore denied burial in the church cemetery, he was ready for the missionaries his wife had invited to his home. His first question was about the Church’s teaching on infant baptism.
The elders cited a passage from the Book of Mormon which teaches that infants are incapable of sin and that they have no need of baptism because they are saved.
Then he made this comment: “It was the kind of doctrine Christ would teach. I simply couldn’t see how a loving God could feel any other way about children. Then the elders gave me a lesson in obtaining a witness to gain a testimony. I put it to the test, prayed, and received a witness. I felt the burning in my bosom just as the scriptures described. I knew it was true.”
He made this further comment: “One of the most joyous principles to me is celestial marriage. I feel that if people could understand this and really love their husband or wife, they would join the Church on this alone. It’s a wonderful principle.”
Finally, I will deal briefly with the conversion of a Protestant minister, who after much tribulation and persecution by ministers and friends when he decided to convert, gave the following testimony:
“I have written this in order to show that as in the Bible, when a man finds a ‘pearl of great price,’ he will sell all that he has if necessary in order to obtain it [see Matt. 13:46]. I have found that peace and truth within the Mormon church for which I had been seeking for over twelve years.
“I have not quite completed my first reading of the Book of Mormon, but already the riches of its truths as set down by the Prophet Joseph Smith have become a vital part of our family’s spiritual life. No man could have written this book except through the power of God. We accept the test of hatred through which we have passed as God’s test of our sincerity in our seeking.
“My prayer is that others will not continue to willfully blind their eyes, refusing even to read the Book of Mormon in order to learn. No man can read this book and not have his life changed. I have not overnight become an expert on the Mormon faith, but I am an eager student and am not afraid to learn what the Holy Spirit would teach through those to whom He has given the authority.
“My personal tragedy as a Protestant minister was that I wasted a good deal of valuable time trying to keep going an organization and institution which no longer, with any stretch of imagination, can be shown to be doing Christ’s work.”
May I invite you all to study the scriptures, wherein are found the words of eternal life and the way to exaltation.
Jesus said, “This is my work and my glory—to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man” (Moses 1:39).
This is so important, that he gave his life for us that we may be resurrected, and he gave us the plan of life and salvation by which this may be accomplished. Read the Bible and the Book of Mormon, which testify of the things which I have told you this day.
If you are searching for happiness in this life and eternal life with God the Father and his Son Jesus Christ hereafter, then I would exhort all of you to find the way, the truth, and the life, which is in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Over on the other side of the camp, teamwork was fully evident as Scouts from the New Orleans Louisiana Stake organized themselves for a firebuilding contest. One team member struck a match as others huddled around to shelter it from the wind. Another Scout raced to a pile of straw to gather fuel, rushed back, and as the initial flame leaped up, carefully nourished it. A string scorched, blackened, untwisted, broke, and a water balloon tumbled down, dousing the fire. “You have to know what each person is going to do before you start,” advised Paul Seager, 15, of the West Bank Ward. “But it feels great when you see what you can do.”

“Let’s prepare ourselves to go to the temple” were the words uttered by my husband when I was washing the dishes. I was astonished. Being in the Church for almost two decades and like every other young women, I too dreamt of getting married to an active, worthy, temple-loving returned missionary.
My husband and I knew each other for almost 12 years, and on September 2009, we decided to get married. I had a strong desire to get married in the temple, and when I shared my feelings, my husband insisted that we work together to be strong enough to enter into His holy place. We committed ourselves that we would go to the temple and get sealed in the house of the Lord in three months. The initial days were blissful. But life wasn’t like something that floats around and lands on you like a lucky butterfly. It needs to be tended, like a fire in your heart, by breathing life into a spark over and over again.
Years came and went in a blur of working hard and spinning our wheels. We filled our days with what we thought we had to do. We were careless with our love, sending out sharp words and criticisms and then rushing out the door to our next obligation. We thought we were building a life for our future. But we didn’t see the cracks in what we were building.
Whenever we thought of going to the temple, we became conscious of our failings and felt uncomfortable at the thought of approaching the Lord. We felt unworthy of the Lord’s love and were fearful of His disapproval. We knew that preparation to enter the temple and covenant-making doesn’t happen quickly. It began with baptism, confirmation of the gift of the Holy Ghost, and then it has to grow every day with prayer, scripture study, obedience, repentance, partaking of the sacrament, keeping the commandments, etc.
The day dawned when my husband was called by Bishop Daniel Michael and stake president Nithyakumar to be the second counsellor in the Convent Road Branch. That puzzled us greatly, for we had supposed that someone called to such an office would have an unusual, different, and greatly enlarged testimony and spiritual power than my husband.
My husband denied initially and said he is not worthy enough to accept the call. It was a great challenge, and after two months he made up his mind. A few days later, my husband felt something strong in his heart that we must prepare ourselves to go to the temple. Temple ordinances are the most exalted ordinances that have been revealed to mankind. We wanted to receive the temple ordinances, make solemn covenants with our Father, feel His Spirit, and receive additional revelation and understanding. As we have heard many temple-returned members bear their testimonies, we wanted to experience that same understanding and assurance of the eternal existence and the unending power of the covenants made. If we are not eternal beings, the temple would have no significance. We wanted to enter the temple and make covenants because we know that we will exist eternally, and we wanted to be with our Heavenly Father and our family in “never-ending happiness.”
We slowly started to resolve our marital differences and felt that it was worth our best efforts. We started to prepare wisely and foresaw the need for adjustment. We started listening to each other and each moment of listening piled up until we could start climbing right up and out of our hole. We added laughter and that made the climbing lighter. We let things go, saw with new eyes, and stood in the each other’s shoes. Serving family, Church members, and friends became enjoyable. All these years we were trying to find happiness by hunting for it, not realising that we will find it as the old woman did her lost spectacles, safe on her nose all the time.
Our understanding of our eternal perspective helped us both to love and respect each other and overcome selfishness as we worked through our differences together. We partook of the sacrament, sought for forgiveness, strived to keep the Lord’s standards, and felt proud to worthily carry a temple recommend. The more we stood for true principles, the more we felt the Lord’s help to overcome temptation.
We started preparing spiritually, mentally, and financially. We worked on our family tree. We knew that our ancestors were waiting and praying for hundreds of years for their ordinances to be performed. We felt great and awesome to do that part of work for them. We were able to collect 42 names. On May 14, 2017, we went to the temple. We did not understand much when we did our own endowments and got sealed. I was taken in disbelief when I saw my dream come true where I dreamt of sitting in a room on a chair and a person with white dress speaking to me. I saw the same room, the same chair in which I was sitting during my initiatory and a person in white dress speaking to me. I went back to the patron house and reflected on my dream as though it happened just few days back. When we did baptisms for our ancestors and began to seal them, we felt the Spirit so strong in us. My husband didn’t serve his mission but was blessed to baptize nearly 60 people who are dead. When we did endowments for our ancestors and as we entered into the celestial room, we both held our hands together, prayed for few minutes. There were scriptures lying next to us. When we randomly opened the page, it turned to Doctrine and Covenants 38:7–15. We were overjoyed to see the promised blessings.
I know that Heavenly Father wants to bless us. His greatest blessings come when we enter the temple to receive sacred ordinances and when we make and keep sacred covenants. We feel we have reformed ourselves. Our hearts are full of thanks for the Saviour’s Atonement that assures us that ‘though [our] sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool” (Isaiah 1:18). I am grateful for my family. We are really blessed to live in a time when the Lord has inspired His prophets to provide significantly increased accessibility to the holy temples worldwide and invite each of you to have a current temple recommend and visit the temple more often. All of the ordinances which take place in the house of the Lord become expressions of our belief in that fundamental and basic doctrine of the immortality of the human soul. As we redouble our efforts and our faithfulness in going to the temple, the Lord will bless us. We leave you this testimony that when you prepare, “set specific goals, considering your circumstances, of when you can and will participate in temple ordinances. Then do not allow anything to interfere with that plan. This pattern will guarantee that those who live in the shadow of a temple will be as blessed as are those who plan far ahead and make a long trip to the temple” (Richard G. Scott, “Temple Worship: The Source of Strength and Power in Times of Need,” Liahona, May 2009, 43).
Finally, I quote from President Howard W. Hunter (1907–95): “Let us be a temple-attending and a temple-loving people. Let us hasten to the temple as frequently as time and means and personal circumstances allow. Let us go not only for our kindred dead, but let us also go for the personal blessing of temple worship, for the sanctity and safety which are provided within those hallowed and consecrated walls. The temple is a place of beauty; it is a place of revelation; it is a place of peace. It is the house of the Lord. It is holy unto the Lord. It should be holy unto us” (“The Great Symbol of Our Membership,” Ensign, July 1994, 5).
May the Lord continue to bless you and your families when you prepare to enter his holy House as He did ours. I strongly bear this testimony in the precious name of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, amen.

In 1965, Cliff and his wife, Betty, invited missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints into their home. In 1966, Betty was baptized. Cliff attended Church with her and was asked to play the piano at meetings, and also acted as branch clerk on assignment from the branch president. In 1968, the year the branch was made a ward, he was baptised and called as second counsellor in the bishopric. In 1973, the ward was blessed with a small organ, so his talents were used to accompany the Sunday services, and this has continued ever since.

When Liisa, 20, first heard about the job at the Delfinaario (dolphin aquarium), she was excited. She had good qualifications. In the Finnish equivalent of high school, she had studied biology, but also mathematics, science, physics, and chemistry.
“All those things are part of the job,” she explains. “And I’ve always been interested in animals.” And the job would help her earn money to pay for college in Sweden. Her enthusiasm and background paid off. She was hired.

Every year my family gets lots of peaches from my aunt’s tree. Whenever we get them my mom has all four kids help peel them, cut them in half, and put them into jars. None of us likes to help can the peaches, but we help anyway. We would want to do other things, like go to a friend’s house or watch TV. Last fall when my mom asked me if I would help with the peaches, I decided to help but with a good attitude this time. As we were canning, I noticed that we all were talking and laughing and having a good time. That was the most fun time I had canning peaches, and it took less time than I thought.
Katie W., age 12, Utah

According to legend, an old Hawaiian woman who had taken far too many fish from the ocean to be able to preserve with the salt she had brought with her that morning was distraught over the prospect that a significant portion of her catch might go to waste. Because she had been sternly lectured by kupuna throughout her life that if she ever wasted the bounty of the sea she would one day starve herself, she slumped against a coconut tree and just wept and cried. This, because the fish were already dead and could not be returned to the ocean.

While sitting and crying near the shoreline, she heard the consoling voice of an older woman from the nearby brush. Shortly an old white-haired woman appeared and told her to bring the fish and follow her to a dirt field nearby. The older woman dug with bare hands a hole in the field until water appeared seeping into the earthen well from the bottom up. She subsequently instructed the woman to place the fish in the Wai-Ku or salt pond whose water would salt the flesh of the fish until she left the area. Once the hot Hanapepe sun dried out the water the salt would eventually crystallize, and she would be able to return to gather the beautiful white flakes of salt and make an offering to the sea. One should always return a portion of the salt to the sea, she was taught. This was the beginning of the sacred practice of Hawaiian salt-making.

The older woman, generally identified as Pele by kupuna at Hanapepe, told the woman to malama pono (or care for and cherish) the area, and she would always be able to make pa'a kai or ocean salt in this manner. The salt would then always retain its delicious savor. Today, there are hundreds of earthen salt ponds in the red dirt field at Hanapepe and a group of protectors, lineal descendants of the woman, known as Hui Pa'a Kai is charged with stewardship over the area so that the wonderful, mineral rich sea salt will be a sustainable resource for generations to come.

In a hospital not more than fifty miles from this beautiful building, an eleven-year-old boy lay comatose. He had been electrocuted while attempting to retrieve a kite that had blown into the electrical wires near his home. The parents had been given no hope. All muscle tone was gone. Medical science, with all of its marvelous equipment, was being utilized under the skilled hands of highly-trained medical people, but to no avail. Soon several men placed their hands upon that unfortunate boy’s head. A neighbor had administered, and now the prayer was being offered by another to seal that anointing. As the last few words were spoken, slight movement began again, and the boy made a small noise. A miracle? Yes! And may we all understand that God’s functions and procedures there and here are the true foundations of learning.

I soon learned in hiking with boys that they got no pleasure out of my reading the map and showing them the direction. But if I provided each one with a map and a compass and pointed to a spot on the map indicating where he was, then pointed to another spot on the map and said, “Meet me at that point at 4:00 this afternoon,” he embarked on a great adventure, a great challenge, and received immense satisfaction in solving the problem. But all of this was physical satisfaction.

Our ultimate purpose in life is not physical; it is spiritual. It is to come to know God and Jesus Christ whom he has sent. That is what Christ the Lord said when he began his great prayer in Gethsemane. (See John 17.) The gospel is given to us so that we can be guided to the objective given us—to know the Father and the Son. It is as though he said to me, “Son, here is a map and a compass. You are at this spot, and your objective is to reach this other spot. You can do it quickly, or you can take a long time. The sooner you do it, the happier you will be.”

I take the map and gaze at the strange symbols on it. The directions are plainly written, yet I do not quite comprehend. They are words without meaning to me. Just what is an azimuth anyhow, or what does BM x 8270 mean? What are the blue lines as opposed to the black lines and those brown lines in semi-symmetrical patterns? I must understand them to be guided by a map.

Our map, of course, is the revealed word. Our compass is the prophet of the Lord. Understanding comes when one has obtained the Spirit of the Lord, the Holy Ghost.

So let us start on our journey to find eternal life. We will need a map.

Many years ago the Lord gave to the Church a revelation through the Prophet Joseph Smith. In the latter part of it he spoke to the Twelve Apostles and gave them some instructions. Finally he bore witness as to how they could know it was from him. The remarkable thing about it was that there was no Quorum of the Twelve at that time (June 1829). In 1835, six years later, the Quorum of the Twelve was organized and its members chosen. Now the Prophet gathered them together and read to them this revelation. It was read to them in the spring of 1835 by the Prophet as their first instruction. Verses 34 through 36 of the revelation are the testimony of their truth.

“These words are not of men nor of man, but of me; wherefore, you shall testify they are of me and not of man;
“For it is my voice which speaketh them unto you; for they are given by my Spirit unto you, and by my power you can read them one to another; and save it were by my power you could not have them;
“Wherefore, you can testify that you have heard my voice, and know my words.” (D&C 18:34–36.)

Now if you will read this testimony, you will discover—
1. The words are of God and not of man.
2. They are given by his Spirit (through Joseph Smith).
3. Without that Spirit you could not have them.
4. By that Spirit you can read them—one to another.
5. Having read them by the Spirit, therefore, you may know that you have heard the voice of the Lord and know his word.

I had read that series of verses many times, saying to myself that the Twelve received their instruction by revelation through the Prophet. Then one day as I was reading them, in some manner of which I was not conscious at the time, I suddenly realized that the message was for me as well as for the Twelve—not the message itself, but the manner of receiving the message.

Into my mind came the question: How does one hear the word of the Lord? The answer was sharp and clear: By reading the scriptures—by my Spirit they are given to you in writing through my prophets.

Ever since that day whenever I have read the scriptures, there grows in me a thirst—a hunger—to learn more. I start; I don’t want to stop; I am absorbed in the wonder of the word, its scope, its completeness. I can now read the map that guides me to eternal life.

Then I wondered how the Spirit manifests itself to me. How can I know how to seek and obtain the Spirit so that I am hearing by the Spirit? One can read the words without it, and they are just words. I had done that many times. But to read and expand and glow with its warmth, that, I learned, is entirely another thing.

After I had the experience to which I have just referred, I began to search to see how it happened to others. One day I was reading in Enos. The tenth verse almost leaped out at me.

“And while I was thus struggling in the spirit, behold, the voice of the Lord came into my mind again, saying. …” (Enos 1:10.)

That’s it, I thought. Later as I was reading section 8 of the Doctrine and Covenants I came upon verse 2. [D&C 8:2]

“Behold, I will tell you in your mind [there it is again] and in your heart.” (What does he mean by “heart”?)

Then in section 9, verse 8. [D&C 9:8]

“Behold, I say unto you, that you must study it out in your mind; then you must ask me if it be right, and if it is right I will cause that your bosom shall burn within you.” (There it is again, mind and bosom—heart.) So I conclude that it comes into my mind accompanied by a feeling that may center in my bosom. Then finally it seemed to me to be entirely clear to me when I read in 1 Nephi 17:45 [1 Ne. 17:45], Nephi’s rebuke of his brothers. He reminded them of the times the Lord had spoken and that finally He had spoken to them with the still, small voice, but they were without feeling and they could not feel his words. Why did he say “feeling” and “feel” rather than “hearing” and “hear”? Because it is by feeling, not by hearing.

So here is your bridge, young folks; here is your map, your compass, and your guide:
1. Be righteous.
2. Read the scriptures with pure heart and desire.
3. Learn to interpret the “feeling” that comes to you when you do read.
Then more often than you will ever realize, the word of the Lord will come into your mind. You will have the “feeling” for it, and you will have received direct revelation yourself for you alone, which will guide you right every time and help you make the decisions that will assure you that you will know the eternal God and his Son Jesus Christ and be led to eternal life.

It took me seven years to qualify to serve a full-time mission. When I first spoke with my bishop, Bishop Tapueluelu, about it, he gave me some guidelines to strive to live by. He said if I followed them and learned to be obedient, I would be blessed. The first few guidelines—daily scripture study and weekly church attendance—were pretty doable. “This is easy,” I thought. But I got offended when I was told to change certain “worldly” things in my life, and my pride and stubbornness got the best of me.
Hoping for an easier way out, I moved to four different wards and spoke with four different bishops. I even went back to school to pursue a medical degree. Then I felt prompted to drop everything and prepare once again to serve a mission. So I did. I went back to Bishop Tapueluelu and humbly asked for his help. I was told that there was a weight requirement for missionaries—and I realized that I weighed over the limit. Immediately, feelings of discouragement and embarrassment cluttered my mind, but my bishop encouraged me. He expressed his love and faith in me and said, “My door is always open. We can work on it together! One weakness, one week at a time.”
So I visited with my bishop every week, working out one weakness at a time. I had no idea that I’d have to wait another four years, just trying to qualify to serve a mission.
During those years, I strived to come closer to Christ and apply His teachings in my life. As challenges came, His Atonement became real to me. I relied on the power, comfort, and strength He gave me through His Atonement when my best friend passed away, when our family lost our home, and when I got into a car accident. When circumstances caused me to lose many of my friends, I fell into depression, but the Savior pulled me out. My Friday nights with friends were replaced with working out at the gym and studying about the Atonement of Jesus Christ.
I prayed every night for the people whom I would one day serve and even for my future companions!
I eventually qualified and was called to serve in the New Zealand Auckland Mission, Tongan-speaking.
When I entered the missionary training center, I realized that there was more to learn about Jesus Christ and His Atonement and myself. Even though I’m of Tongan descent, I had never been to the South Pacific islands, and I struggled with the Tongan language. When I got to New Zealand, I had no idea what people were saying to me in Tongan. I had so much to say, but because I couldn’t speak the language, my words were few, simple, and broken. I nodded my head when people asked me questions. They laughed at me, and I laughed with them, but behind closed doors the laughter turned into tears of frustration and discouragement. I thought to myself, “I worked seven years to come out here for this?”
So I prayed to Heavenly Father. In Ether 12:27 we learn that our weaknesses can become strengths if we trust in Him. I told Him about my weaknesses and my trust in Him, and I got back up again … and again … and again. I started to rely even more on Christ and also on my strengths.
I love this gospel and I love street art, so I decided to combine the two. I packed my scriptures, a sketchbook, charcoal pencils, permanent markers, and cans of spray paint in my backpack. My companions laughed and asked, “What are you doing with spray paint?” I explained, “I may not speak the language yet, but I can show others my testimony.”
For the remainder of my mission, I used street art—on paper, not on buildings—and the Spirit to teach others about Christ. And as crazy as it sounds, it worked. Many people didn’t want to hear my message, so I sketched it. Doors and eyes opened when I told them that I did graffiti. They didn’t believe me. They timed me for three minutes, and I sketched the word faith while teaching them about it. Among them were many who felt judged and unloved. I could testify that with faith in Christ we can feel of His love and forgiveness, and He can help us change for the better. He did for me.
Seven years of preparation for my mission helped me find myself. That time allowed me to gain a testimony of Christ’s Atonement and His power to help me overcome my weaknesses and use my strengths to share what I knew with others. In the end it was worth the seven years.

“I never felt closer to the Lord than when we were serving as senior missionaries,” a senior missionary said. “I knew some things were out of my control, especially back home with kids and grandkids. So I put things in the Lord’s hands. And He blessed our family. We were never closer to our grandkids than visiting with them each week on Zoom. We talked about things they never would have been interested in before. While it doesn’t happen to everyone, in our case, one son came back to church while we served, and another son remarried and was later sealed in the temple.”

Missionaries can teach people in the same town and some accept the truth and others reject it. I noticed a couple of passages in my great-grandfather’s missionary journals that showed the difference in people’s reactions to the truth. He went back to his native England in the 1880s to serve a mission. He tells a story of preaching in a meeting of another faith to a congregation of about 200 people. He explained:

"I spoak (sic) for more than an hour on the literal fulfillment of prophecy, and restoration of the Everlasting Gospel to the prophet Joseph Smith, concluded by baring (sic) a strong testimony to the Truth of the work of God. Some of the people were very much interested and wished me to come again, others wiggled in their seats a good deal, when I bore testimony that Joseph Smith was a prophet of the living God."

He had another experience that was more extreme. He was speaking in a town hall to a large group of people. Things were going well until they were just ready to close the meeting. Then an apostate and a group of agitators from a neighboring town came into the meeting. The apostate began speaking to the people and telling them lies about missionaries and the church. In my great-grandfather’s words:

"He continued to tell the blackest and foulest lies that ever was (sic) uttered by fiends from the lower region and called on the people of Ginnislake, to drive us out to drown us, that we were worthy of death. There was tremendous excitement and uproar in the meeting and the mob kept pinching us and pulling our hair and insulting us by the most foul insinuations. I finally got upon the table and asked the people to listen to me for a short time. The place was densely packed and more than 500 people present by this time a good many of whom wanted to hear me."

"He keep shaking his fist in my face and saying \"You are a Liar” “You are a liar\" \"You’re a liar\" \"If I had you in America I would shoot you\" \"I would kill you\" \"I would put my little pop gun against your head\" & c & c. He repeated those sayings a great many times and great many people heard him say it. I got on the table 3 or 4 times during the evening and defended our cause and ourselves as best I could and there was the greatest possible confusion. The police had come into the meeting soon after the row began and we placed ourselves under their protection and I must say the police did the best to preserve the peace, but their efforts were not of much avail for there was the greatest excitement for about 1 3/4 hours."

"The Police thought they could conduct us to Bro Jackman’s house in safety, but no sooner had we got outside the rabble laid hold of us, but we each laid hold of a Policeman and hung on with all the power we had, but we and the Policeman had great difficulty in keeping our feet, the policeman using their sticks pretty freely. We finally got through the mob who followed us and threw stones and tufts of grass and other things at us. The police did their uttermost to drive them back all the time. I was struck pretty hard on the shoulder by a stone and one of the Policemen and another friend were also struck. We arrived at our destination, however, all safe without serious injury."

So, with that money, we were on our way to the temple. We spent the night in Trinidad and woke up at 4 a.m. to catch our next flight to Panama. While on the plane we met a missionary named Sister Poulson. She was going to Santo Domingo, so we talked for a short while. In Panama, we had a delay of about four hours before our flight to the Dominican Republic. While there we were very hungry because we had no money to buy anything to eat. So, we walked around trying to pass the time. While doing that, we bumped into Sister Poulson again. We talked for some time because we were going on the same flight. She was on her way to get something to eat and asked if we had already eaten, so we explained about our trip and also our finances, and without us knowing she bought food for the four of us. We were so very grateful. When the time came, we boarded the plane and left for Santo Domingo. When we arrived and finally exited the airport, Sister Poulson was gone.
Then the big day arrived for our family sealing. Everyone there had heard about us and knew what we were there for. On that day we had the temple to ourselves. We got ready, and when we arrived, some missionary couples were there to assist us. When we got to the sealing room, everything was prepared; we were sealed first, and then our two daughters were sealed to us. It was the most wonderful thing, the way that we felt is unexplainable. There was not a dry eye in the room. All the missionaries who were there and the sister who had fed us at the airport was there, and they were all in tears. The Spirit was so strong and was felt by everyone in the room.

My high school had always had a boys’ golf team, and traditionally they did quite well. But for some reason there weren’t many girls in our town who liked to golf so there had never been a girls’ team.
During my sophomore year school officials decided the lack of a girls’ team was a violation of equal opportunity rules, and the golf coach was told to get a girls’ team together. That’s how my friends and I made the team—not because we were any good, but because we were needed.
The boys on the varsity squad promised not to laugh at us while we were learning how to play the game, but that turned out to be a difficult promise for them to keep. One of us missed hitting the ball off the tee four times in a row. We took out huge divots with each swing. When the season started we were still not very good. In fact, the photographer from the local paper tried to get a good shot of our game for the sports section. He followed us around the course for nine holes, but there just wasn’t a good shot to get.
We had a fun although occasionally embarrassing season, and near the end we all could say our golf games had improved immensely.
Our district tournament was to be held at a course we had never played before. A few days before the Monday tournament the coach called us together and announced a special team practice at the course so everyone could become familiar with the terrain. The practice would be on Sunday afternoon.
I was sick about the announcement. I was the only LDS girl on the team, and I didn’t want to practice on Sunday. I thought about telling the coach I was sick (after all, I wasn’t that sure I wanted to embarrass myself in front of the best golfers in the district). I thought about going to my morning church meetings and then to the course. I thought about a lot of things, but I knew I was going to somehow tell my coach I wouldn’t be at that Sunday practice.
At home I talked to my mom. I told her how I felt, but added I didn’t want to disappoint the coach and team by not practicing. Even LDS golfers need to practice. My mother had a great solution. We would go and play the course on Saturday.
The next morning I had a hard time getting enough nerve to talk to my coach. Finally I just blurted it out. To my surprise he didn’t get mad or roll his eyes and think I was a religious fanatic. He said it would be fine for me to go on Saturday. Later that day, to my surprise, he handed me a check to cover our greens fees which my mother and I were prepared to pay ourselves.
My mom and I had a wonderful time on Saturday, and I played the best golf of my life at district on Monday. Even though I did not place high in the tournament, I felt good about the season. I had made a good choice and had been able to not let my team down.

For example, an especially dramatic moment occurred in the mid-70's when Semisi Ha'unga, a student, died as a result of a neck injury in a pick up rugby game in the front field. His death left his wife `Ahoika and four little girls alone in a foreign country. The sadness was almost too much to bear, but `Ahoika remained faithful and optimistic. Eventually she had to return to Tonga with her children, receiving a small salary from a Church school where she worked. A widow and single parent with several children, `Ahoika eked out a living.
Mele Ha'unga, the youngest daughter recently graduated from BYU-Hawaii. I heard her speak about her mother's amazing faith, hard work, and full-souled devotion to the Church, especially in keeping the law of tithing. Mele said, "I remember one day in Tonga, Mom called a family council and told us children that we had just enough money from that particular paycheck to pay our tithing and the monthly bills, but there was no money for food. I remember complaining to Mom, "Why can't we use the tithing money for food? Heavenly Father has plenty of money. Your tithing is so small compared to what He has. Does God want us to starve to pay tithing money He doesn't need?"
"But Mom was adamant. `It's His money, He may not need it, but we need to pay it back. It is our need, not God's, to pay tithing."
Mele spoke of the prayers of her widow mother and the anxiety of the children, when suddenly a man appeared at their home. It was their father's brother, not a member of the Church. He was laden with foodstuffs from his garden pot, yams, sweet potato, green banana, and a roasted pig. Their was corn beef, bread. The sight of all this food made a deep impression, but it was their uncle's story that moved them the most. He said,
"I was working in my plantation today. At noon I lay down to rest under a tree. I slept and I saw your father walking toward me. When I saw him I knew instantly why he had come to me. You were hungry and without food."
Thus, the widow's faith was vindicated in front all of her children. `Ahoika, still a widow, represents the millions of devoted latter-day saints over the world whose faith and trust in paying their tithing makes this school possible. As faculty, students, and alumni it lifts our stewardship, collectively and individually, to a higher level of consecration and promise before God that we are worthy, committed; that you and I are accountable before God, the Church, and all widows.

When I was twelve years old, we had a community fathers-and-sons banquet in Idaho Falls. President George Albert Smith, the President of the Church, was the speaker. After the banquet, we lined up to shake his hand. When my turn came, President Smith took my hand and spoke to me. I don’t remember what he said, but I shall never forget what I felt. From that moment, I wanted to be in the presence of the prophets.

In high school, quarters became merely small change. Our attention was drawn to larger sums of money with bigger wagers, usually around big-ticket sporting events. Every week there seemed to be a big game, and betting circles were frequently established. Obviously, the more people there were contributing to a pot, the greater a winner’s takings would be. I remember one student who kept a notebook with the particular bets, the odds, and the individuals involved. Between and sometimes during classes he would approach you, asking if you would like to bet.
Unfortunately, the gambling scene pervaded other high school activities and went beyond school boundaries. While traveling with my baseball team, both on the bus and in the hotel rooms, card games took over much of our spare time. I recall watching a card game where two teammates had $120 on the line, with the luck of a particular card deciding the fate of the game. Someone won that day, but I don’t remember who. What I do remember is the chaos, the screaming and vulgar language, the laughing at someone else’s expense. Most importantly, I remember feeling void of the Spirit. It’s a dirty, ugly feeling.
Near my home was a hotel we often went to that had an arcade, a bowling alley, and a good restaurant. I spent many fun times bowling with my brothers and our friends. To get to the bowling alley, we had to go through the hotel’s casino. There is a distinct image in my mind to this day of the smell of cigarette and cigar smoke and the dropping of coins into the metal basins from the slot machines. The image of countless people sitting in the same place for hours playing cards or pulling levers on slot machines seems to be a constant reminder to me of the shallow habit of gambling.
One day a friend of mine, while leaving the bowling alley, tried his luck at a game of chance they called “Megabucks.” The winnings were well over a million dollars. You had to play several dollars at a time to have a chance at winning. Of course, he lost, and he kept on losing. Within five minutes he lost $60, and the only thing he had to show for it was his contribution to the grand total that would eventually go to someone else. My friend lost $60, yet I gained a greater distaste for the gambling habit and a greater resolve to keep the Lord’s commandments. Like other occasions in my life, this became a defining moment that strengthened my resolve to put my occasional past blemishes behind me and turn to the Lord with full purpose of heart.
Through a loving Heavenly Father and the guidance of exemplary parents who avoided the practice of gambling, I was able to put my lapses with games of chance behind me. Far too many friends and acquaintances didn’t stop at pitching quarters or playing cards. Gambling and the other bad habits it leads to are overtaking far too many of Heavenly Father’s children. With an unresolved determination to avoid it, you can become a victim very quickly. Gratefully, two years before I became “legal” in the eyes of the state of Nevada, I was “about my Father’s business” preaching the gospel in the Washington D.C. South Mission.
You may need courageous fortitude as the world thrusts the acquisition of riches and the madness of materialism upon you before you’ve even graduated from school. Understanding true doctrine and living by the principles taught in the scriptures and by living prophets will strengthen you. With this strength, you can refuse and conquer any behavior offensive to the Spirit.

The restored gospel was not preached again in Bulgaria for 90 years. As the Communist era ended, then-Elder Russell M. Nelson of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles traveled to Sofia with other Church leaders. In February 1990, during a meeting with government officials, Elder Nelson asked what the Church could do for Bulgaria and was asked to send English teachers.
That fall, six missionaries, most with formal teaching experience, began teaching English classes in Sofia, Pravets, and Smolyan. In Sofia, Elder Morris and Sister Annetta Mower found several members of the Church—baptized elsewhere in Europe—already living in the area. On October 14, 1990, the Mowers began holding weekly Church services in their apartment. Within a month, more than 50 people were cramming into the Mowers’ tiny apartment for the weekly meetings. 5 When the first proselytizing missionaries arrived in November, six people were awaiting baptism. 6 As interest in the Church grew, the need for a mission headquartered in Bulgaria was soon clear.
One morning in April 1991, Kiril and Nevenka Kiriakov were at their home in Virginia when the telephone rang. Nevenka immediately recognized the familiar voice: “May I speak with Brother Kiriakov?” then-Elder Thomas S. Monson asked. 7
“Certainly,” she responded. Before she could hand the phone to Kiril, however, Elder Monson continued, “How would you feel if your husband were called as the first mission president in Bulgaria?” 8
Kiril and Nevenka had fled Bulgaria in 1963 with their children, Julia and Peter, and joined the Church in France before settling in the United States. Although Communist authorities had threatened Kiril with death and his family with life imprisonment if they ever returned, Kiril had been promised in a blessing that he would preach the gospel in Bulgaria. With a new government in place, they felt safe to return. Despite Kiril’s significant health concerns, he and Nevenka courageously accepted a call to serve. 9 “I was anxious to see all my relatives and friends,” Nevenka said, “and share with them the restored gospel of Jesus Christ.” 10
As Kiril and Nevenka prepared to return to their homeland, the first missionaries who would serve under their leadership were arriving at the missionary training center in Provo, Utah, USA. The language teacher who greeted them on their first day was Julia Kiriakov Caswell, Kiril and Nevenka’s daughter. 11
In July 1991, the Bulgaria Sofia Mission officially opened. Through the faith, perseverance, and efforts of the local members and the missionaries, the Church soon received official recognition. 12 By the end of 1991, more than 150 Bulgarian Saints had been baptized. 13
Decades before the opportunity to preach the gospel in Bulgaria would become a reality, the Lord started making preparations. Despite the Church’s long absence in the country and early difficulties, the faith and diligence of those whom the Lord prepared opened the door for many others to receive the restored gospel.

I sat one day in my office with a large athlete. Robust and well exercised, he had to turn sideways to get through my door. He was not a member of this Church. Things had gone haywire in his life while at BYU, and he knew it. With his head in his hands and tears streaming down his face, he said to me, “My father’s going to kill me. I wasn’t raised this way. I’ve got a lot of work to do.” So we rolled up our sleeves and, in the next couple of months and even years, we worked. Now a member of the Church, this young man has served in a bishopric, has married in the temple, and has a precious young family.