Gospel Story Finder

I live in Lagos, Nigeria. When I was 13 years old, a missionary couple, Elder and Sister Grimshaw, started visiting us. They taught us the gospel, and at first I was unreceptive.
As time went on, I started listening attentively to them and asked questions which they answered satisfactorily. Yet I still did not believe them and planned to refuse baptism. On the day of our last discussion, they asked us to pray sincerely about what they had taught us. This touched me so much that I decided to be baptized with my family.
After baptism, I started studying the Book of Mormon, with frequent fasting and prayer. I did not feel bold talking to people, but as I studied, I began to feel a strong desire to lead a righteous life.
After completing the Book of Mormon, my testimony became very strong and a sudden desire to share the gospel came upon me. I started feeling the spirit of peace within me. I started telling my friends about the Church with boldness unlike before. My testimony grew so much I began to share it at fast and testimony Sunday.
My family was overwhelmed at my spiritual growth, and joy filled their hearts. All this happened two years after I joined the Church. The fear and shyness I used to have suddenly fled away. I was convinced that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the only true church on earth this day.

None of us knows how long we are going to live. In the Book of Mormon, Alma asked the question, “Can ye look up to God at that day with a pure heart and clean hands?” (Alma 5:19.) I remember when the need to have “clean hands and a pure heart” (Ps. 24:4) became very meaningful to me.

It was just after my friend David Carlson and I had graduated from Preston High School. We were happy with the fact that it was the same school that Presidents Ezra Taft Benson and Harold B. Lee had attended when they were growing up. Even though they had changed the name from the Oneida Stake Academy to Preston High School, we still had some of our classes in the same building.

We thought that 1946 was the “golden year” of athletics at Preston High. That year our teams won the district championship in every sport, and in basketball our team won the state championship—and that was in the days when the small high schools played against the big ones.

David was a good friend to me and, I think, to everybody in the school. He was a fine student. He worked hard and received excellent grades. He achieved in Scouting and seminary and was a well-coordinated athlete. David was a member of the basketball team, and his playing was one of the reasons our team won the state championship.

Soon after high school graduation, David went to the hospital for what everyone thought was a routine operation, but there were some complications. Infection set in, and the next thing we heard was that he had died. We could not believe it. At age eighteen, David had died. What a shock! I still remember how painful it was to lose a good friend.

His funeral was held in the stake center. Everyone seemed to come. It was like a crowded stake conference with standing room only.

Bishop Eberhard included a statement in his remarks that made a powerful impression on me. He pointed over to the sacrament table and said, “When David knelt to bless the sacrament, I knew that he knelt there with ‘clean hands and a pure heart.’ I never had to worry about what he had been doing the Saturday night before.”

I thought that was one of the finest compliments he could have paid to my friend, and I wanted to live in such a way that my bishop would not have to worry about what I had been doing the night before. I’m sure that all of us could benefit from making a similar decision.

Applying the doctrine of Jesus Christ in our lives begins with having faith in Him, believing Him, and trusting Him. At age 19, I was baptized a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and received the gift of the Holy Ghost. A year later, I was called to serve as a missionary and assigned to labor in the Alabama Birmingham Mission. I loved and enjoyed my mission experience, and it was the hardest thing I had done in my life to that point. As a new member of the Church and serving as a missionary, I did not fully comprehend the doctrine of Jesus Christ nor the history of the Lord’s restored Church. In about the fourth month of my missionary service, we taught a lesson to an individual who seemed to know more about the history of the Church than me. The lesson was not spirit-filled or spirit-led, as this individual made several accusations against the Church and its teachings. At this point in my membership, I had never heard such allegations. Please keep in mind this was before Facebook, Instagram, Google, and Wikipedia.

As my companion and I evaluated our conversation with this individual, I was informed that some of the things he mentioned were true. I had never heard that, in the past, priesthood and temple blessings were denied to Black members. I was shocked at first, later confused, and then I felt betrayed. I had felt I had been lied to by my teachers and leaders when I joined the Church. And thus, for the next two weeks, no significant missionary work was done. I continued to follow the daily schedule of missionary life and was obedient as best I could be to the mission rules. However, because of the resentment I was feeling towards God and my lack of trust for people, I did not recognize the Holy Ghost in my life. Because of these feelings, I did not want to speak to anyone, especially my companion. My companion recognized my frustration and feelings of unhappiness, and at the end of each night, he would say to me, “Elder Johnson, I love you.” He did not try to resolve my concerns, nor did he call the mission president. All he did was tell me that he loved me. And finally, after about two weeks, I started to believe him. His love softened my heart and gave me the courage to search the scriptures for answers that I desperately needed. I had stopped praying and reading the scriptures over these two weeks. I was lost, felt alone, and was confused.

Because I felt my companion’s love, I began to feel God’s love again. I was led by the Spirit to a place in the scriptures that I had never read before. The scripture is in Doctrine and Covenants 6:21-23 and reads as follows:
Behold, I am Jesus Christ, the Son of God. I am the same that came unto mine own, and mine own received me not. I am the light which shineth in darkness, and the darkness comprehendeth it not.Verily, verily, I say unto you, if you desire a further witness, cast your mind upon the night that you cried unto me in your heart, that you might know concerning the truth of these things.Did I not speak peace to your mind concerning the matter? What greater witness can you have than from God?[4]You may recall that these words were spoken through revelation to Oliver Cowdery in 1829. At the time, he served as the scribe during the translation of the Book of Mormon. Oliver, like me, may have been questioning his divine appointment. These few words spoken by Jesus Christ reminded me of the day that I had fasted and prayed to know if Jesus Christ was God’s own Son, if His words were found in the Book of Mormon, and if the Lord had called Joseph Smith as His Prophet. Alone in my college dorm room, I received a witness by the Holy Ghost of these sacred truths. I remembered. And as I remembered that experience in my missionary apartment in Alabama, I began again to recognize the Holy Ghost in my life; it had never left me.

Following this experience, I knelt to pray and expressed my gratitude and love to God. In doing so, I felt His love and His gratitude for me. My faith in Jesus was not only restored but deepened. I knew that I had not been betrayed nor had I been lied to, for God cannot lie. From that moment, I have tried to share with friends and family that God lives, Jesus is the living Christ and the Only Begotten Son of a living God, and His Church, even The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, has been restored on earth at this precise time to prepare you and me for the Second Coming of the Messiah. My friends, it is all true! And as we consistently and intentionally apply the doctrine of Jesus Christ in our lives, our faith in Him will deepen and we will recognize and receive His divine power.

Recently I received a letter from Jeremy Chatelain. I first met Jeremy some years ago in the Philippines as he served a full-time mission for the Church. Following his honorable release, he married and about three years ago was appointed to a teaching post in the Church Educational System. Jeremy and his wife, Connie, looked forward to their new life together and his working full-time with seminary students in Idaho. Just before he started his new career, Jeremy, Connie, and their families went swimming at a favorite location. Everyone was enjoying a wonderful time swimming and having fun together. When Jeremy dived into the water for the last time that day, little did he realize it would change his life on earth forever.

He writes:
It’s hard for me to believe that it has been a little more than three years since my accident. . . . We have been greatly blessed in our lives. I left the hospital in October of 1998 and returned to Ogden to acclimate to life as a quadriplegic outside of the hospital. . . . We have now been living in a home in Blackfoot, Idaho, for nearly three years. The Lord must surely see the future and can mercifully guide us accordingly. We found the house before the accident and curiously noted, among other things, that many of the doors were extra wide, thus wheelchair friendly. We have had to make very few changes to accommodate my needs, which has spared our finances for other necessities and wants.

He continues:
Another tremendous blessing in our lives is the Church Educational System. When many other employers would have counted my disabilities too great to continue employment, CES has maintained a very warm, caring, and accommodating relationship with us. . . . We have been included in all of the functions as if my accident had not happened. Our seminary building has been set up so that with near complete independence I can access my office and the classroom well enough to volunteer teach one period daily each trimester.

Despite the many challenges he faces as a quadriplegic, Jeremy writes about his future plans this way: “I am currently pursuing my master of education and hope to complete it within another year or so. My next goal is then to try to come back and teach full-time.”

I am pleased to report that Jeremy, his wife, and students are watching this broadcast in Blackfoot, Idaho, tonight.

Speaking of Connie, his bride of just a few years, he says:
My wife has been unfailingly supportive in all I’ve done and has made great personal sacrifices to maintain our marriage. We even returned to the Philippines, wheelchair and all, last fall at the conclusion of my brother’s mission in Baguio. It brought me great joy to introduce my wife to the Filipinos, for whom I have tremendous love.

He concluded his letter by telling me of yet another challenge they faced:
Nearly a year ago Connie was involved in a serious car accident on the Malad pass. Her car lost traction on a snowy overpass and rolled down into the median. It crushed the car and broke seven of her ribs, as well as a number of bones in her back. I nearly lost her that day. She spent about a week in the hospital and a few more months before the pain somewhat subsided. She is doing well now and is working as a medical assistant at a clinic here in town.

When many others would have wallowed in self-pity and doubt, Jeremy described his setbacks this way: “Life yet continues to provide us with learning experiences. We have been truly blessed.”

I share part of that humbling letter with you to illustrate that regardless of the challenges, the Lord can bring peace into the lives of those who are distressed.

D. Brent Collette told a stirring story:
“Ronny was not just shy; he was downright backward. As a 17-year-old high school senior, Ronny had never really had a close friend or done anything that included other people. He was famous for his shyness. He never said anything to anybody, not even a teacher. One look at him told you a great deal of the story—inferiority complex. He slumped over as if to hide his face and seemed to be always looking at his feet. He always sat in the back of the class and would never participate. …
“It was because of Ronny’s shyness that I was so astonished when he started coming to my Sunday School class. …
“His attendance in my class was the result of the personal efforts of a classmate, Brandon Craig, who had recently befriended Ronny. Boy, if there had ever been a mismatch, this was it. Brandon was ‘Mr. Social.’ A good head taller than Ronny, he was undisputedly the number one star of our high school athletics program. Brandon was involved in everything and successful at everything. … He was just a neat boy.
“Well, Brandon took to little Ronny like glue. Class was obviously painful for Ronny, but Brandon protected him like the king’s guard. I played a low profile—no questions, just a quick smile and once a pat on the back. Time seemed to be helping, but I often wondered if Brandon and company (the rest of the class certainly played it right) would ever be able to break the ice. That’s why I was so shocked when Brian, the class president, stood before our Sunday School class one Sunday afternoon and boldly announced that Ronny would offer the opening prayer.
“There was a moment of hesitation; then Ronny slowly came to his feet. Still looking at his shoes, he walked to the front of the room. He folded his arms (his head was already bowed). The class was frozen solid. I thought to myself, ‘If he does it, we’ll all be translated.’
“Then almost at a whisper I heard, ‘Our Father in Heaven, thank you for our Sunday School class.’ Then silence—long, loud silence! I could feel poor Ronny suffering. Then came a few sniffles and a muffled sob.
“‘Oh, no,’ I thought, ‘I should be up front where I can help or something.’
“I hurt for him; we all did. I opened an eye and looked up to make my way to Ronny. But Brandon beat me to it. With an eye still open I watched six-foot-four Brandon put his arm around his friend, bend down and put his chin on Ronny’s shoulder, then whisper the words of a short, sweet prayer. Ronny struggled for composure, then repeated the prayer.
“But when the prayer was over, Ronny kept his head bowed and added: ‘Thank you for Brandon, amen.’ He then turned and looked up at his big buddy and said clear enough for all to hear, ‘I love you, Brandon.’
“Brandon, who still had his arm around him, responded, ‘I love you too, Ronny. And that was fun.’
“And it was, for all of us.” (New Era, May 1983, p. 18.)

I stood at the top of the hill and waited eagerly for the service to begin. It seemed my entire hometown was here, gathered on a few acres of land that would soon be home to a temple of the Lord.
After a few men spoke to the crowd, I watched them and others near the front use shovels to turn over some dirt. It seemed like such a simple thing. But as I watched the groundbreaking for the Rexburg Idaho Temple, I realized they were doing more than moving dirt around. The hardened ground needed to be softened before there could be room for the temple, and I knew I could learn from that.
I was a good kid, but I realized that if there had been a temple on that spot at that moment, I wouldn’t be ready to go inside. I evaluated my life, relationships, and habits and found myself lacking. As members of the community continued to turn over dirt, I resolved to break new ground in my life. I was 17, just a few classes away from high school graduation and the technical “adulthood” that came with it. A small swelling of urgency started in my stomach and spread.
In the weeks following the groundbreaking, I made some changes. I had friends who didn’t help me to be my best, so I decided to stop spending time with them. I didn’t like breaking those ties, but I knew it was necessary. That same week, the temple’s solid foundation appeared on the recently broken ground.
Over time, I made new friends. I kept busy with school activities. I read my scriptures more. I was making progress. And the temple construction was progressing, too. As I drove past the temple before going to a basketball game with my new friends, I noticed part of its framework had appeared.
But making changes wasn’t always easy. Some days I didn’t want to read my scriptures. But when I got discouraged, I looked at the temple going up piece by piece. Every day it got a little closer to perfection. And with hard work, so did I.
Months went by, and I started college at BYU–Idaho. I felt more grown-up, more prepared to go to the temple, which was progressing in its construction. During my first week of class, the figure of the angel Moroni was placed atop its spire. With that piece in place, it was impossible to tell from the outside whether the interior of the temple was prepared for the ordinances that would be performed there.
That, too, reminded me of myself. I was 18. I was happy and pursuing my college education. But even though I was worthy of a temple recommend, I knew there were more preparations to make before I was ready to receive all the blessings of the temple.
I no longer had friends I needed to stop spending time with. I didn’t need to break any particularly bad habits. But I did need to learn more about my Savior, and while the interior of the temple was being completed, I was also changing inside. I took religion classes and served in my Church callings. I reached out to others. And through the experiences of young adulthood, I became more committed to the gospel of Jesus Christ.
On February 10, 2008, I returned as a college sophomore to the same hill I had visited as a high school senior. Many of the same people were there, but I didn’t feel like the same person. As I sat beside my parents in the newly completed Rexburg Idaho Temple, I reflected on how far I’d come in the years since the groundbreaking. I sang the hymn “The Spirit of God” (Hymns, no. 2), and I knew that unimaginable blessings still awaited me in that holy house.
The temple was ready and dedicated to the Lord. And so was I.

Niya was playing in front of her home when her aunt called her inside. “Niya, will you go to the greengrocer’s shop and buy some carrots for dinner?” her aunt asked.
“Yes!” Niya said happily. She liked going to the shop, and she liked helping her aunt.
Niya took the money her aunt gave her and walked down the road to the nearby shop.
“I need to buy some carrots for dinner,” Niya told the shopkeeper.
The shopkeeper put the carrots in Niya’s bag and told her how much they cost. Niya handed him the money.
“Here’s your change,” the shopkeeper said as he handed her back some money.
Niya thanked him and started walking home. As she walked, she looked at the money the shopkeeper had given her. “He gave me too much change,” she thought. “Now I can have this money for myself!”
But then Niya stopped walking. “Heavenly Father won’t be happy with me if I keep this money,” she thought. “I must be honest in my words and actions.”
Niya turned around and went back to the shop. “You gave me too much money back,” she told the shopkeeper as she handed him the extra money.
The shopkeeper took the money. “You are a good girl,” he said. Then he put some apples in a bag and gave them to Niya. “Thank you for being honest. Please take these apples and enjoy them with your family.”
Niya felt warm and happy inside as she walked home. She knew Heavenly Father was pleased that she had chosen to be honest.

“This is the last time,” Jacob thought. “Then I’ll go to sleep.” He pulled the blankets over his body—from the top of his head to the very tips of his toes. Jacob held his breath and counted—“one, two, three”—then poked his head out like a turtle. He had been practicing for a whole week, getting ready for his big day.
“Jacob, are you still awake?” Mom whispered.
Jacob grinned. “Yes, I was just practicing again.”
Mom bent over his bed and tucked the blankets around him. “Good night,” she said with a smile.
The next morning at breakfast Jacob rested his chin in his hands.
“What’s wrong?” Dad asked.
“Well, I’m just not sure if I’m ready to be baptized,” Jacob said. “What if I make a mistake?”
“Jacob, everyone makes mistakes. What’s important is that we keep trying to do our best. Do you have a testimony of the Savior?”
“Yes, but I’m afraid I’ll forget everything. I want everything to be perfect for my special day.”
“I’m happy that you’re taking this seriously, Jacob. Getting baptized is an important step.”
Jacob sighed. “I want to be good, but how can I be good all the time? How can I be like Jesus? He was perfect.”
“Remember the still, small voice of the Holy Ghost?” Dad asked. “It can speak to our hearts and help us in a very direct way.”
Jacob nodded. “It gives you a warm feeling inside, like when Mom covers me with my blankets.”
Dad smiled. “That’s right. Did you know that when you are baptized you can have the influence of the Holy Ghost with you all the time?”
Jacob sat up straight. “Really?”
“Yes,” Dad said. “But remember, it’s important that you try and do what is right, and the Holy Ghost can help you.”
“I can do that!” Jacob said. He jumped up from the table and wrapped his arms around Dad’s neck. “Thanks, Dad.”
That day at school Jacob tried to do his best. He helped his teacher erase the chalkboard, but he accidentally knocked a whole box of chalk onto the floor. He ate lunch with a boy who always sat alone, but Jacob accidentally tripped and slopped his spaghetti onto the boy’s lap. He even said hi to Max, a boy who wasn’t very nice to him. There was no doubt about it—doing his best was hard work!
After school Jacob dragged himself into the house and dropped his backpack on the floor. “Hi, Mom,” he said with a groan.
“Hi! How was school today?”
Jacob hung his head. “Well, I tried my best, but I guess my best isn’t good enough,” he said sadly. He explained about the dropped chalk and the spaghetti spill. “I want to be the best I can before I’m baptized, but it’s hard sometimes!”
Mom wrapped her arms around Jacob and gave him a squeeze. “Jacob, accidentally spilling or dropping something isn’t a sin. You do need to be careful, but what’s important is that you’re trying to do what’s right. Heavenly Father loves you and is happy when His children try their best to live righteously.”
Before going to bed that night, Jacob knelt down to pray. “Heavenly Father, I’m worried,” he said. “I want to get baptized, but I’m afraid I’m not good enough. Please help me to know when the time is right.”
Jacob felt his body tingle. He felt warm inside. Suddenly, he wasn’t so worried anymore. He felt calm and peaceful.
The next day at school Jacob heard a voice bellow, “Hey, Jacob!”
Jacob knew that voice. He tried to hide, but it was no use; he had already been spotted. Suddenly he was standing face to face with Max.
Max stared at Jacob and crossed his arms. “What do you want from me? No one ever says hi to me. Did someone dare you?”
Jacob shrugged. “I was just trying to be nice. I’m getting baptized.”
“Baptized?” Max asked.
Jacob shuffled his feet nervously. He wasn’t sure how to explain baptism. He said a silent prayer in his mind. “Baptism is when we make special promises to Heavenly Father. We promise to try and keep the commandments. Heavenly Father loves us and wants us to be good.”
“How do you know?” Max asked.
“I know because He sent His Son, Jesus Christ, to die for our sins.”
Max shot out a bunch of questions. “Can anyone be baptized? Where is Jesus now? When—”
Jacob laughed. “Slow down. I can’t answer all your questions, but I know some missionaries who can.” Jacob took a deep breath. A thought whispered in his heart and he asked, “Max, would you like to come to my baptism?”
Two weeks later the day of Jacob’s baptism arrived. He changed into white clothing at the church and neatly combed his hair. Dad dressed in white too. Jacob’s family, friends, and Max sat waiting. Jacob stepped down into the warm water. He looked at his new friend Max and smiled. He held Dad’s hand, closed his eyes, and listened to the baptismal prayer. Once again he held his breath, but this time it was for real. The water rushed over his body, and then he rose up from the water. He took his first breath and smiled. He knew that Heavenly Father was happy with him for trying his best.

Then, during the nine years that President Ezra Taft Benson presided over the Church—that would be from 1985 to 1994—there was further fulfillment of prophecy. It was in this period that the Iron Curtain came down and the Berlin Wall fell. The Lord unlocked the doors so missionaries could serve in Russia, the Ukraine, Poland, Hungary, and other nations that had been behind the Iron Curtain. The Lord’s servants also opened many nations of Africa, including Zimbabwe, Nigeria, Ghana, Zaire, Liberia, Sierra Leone, Swaziland, and Ivory Coast. Many others have been opened and will be opened to the preaching of the gospel in the future. Conversion miracles have happened in many lands, and I just share with you one example from my own ministry.

During the last week of January 1988, 12 years ago, the First Presidency sent me to Lima, Peru, where we had 11 stakes of the Church. Because of the rapid and healthy growth of the Church in that city, I and the area presidency had the privilege of organizing seven additional stakes in one weekend to make a total of 18 stakes. We held six stake ­conferences, all of which I attended, being shuttled very rapidly from place to place by a native who knew the roads of Lima. I truly saw Joseph Smith’s and Melvin J. Ballard’s prophecies being fulfilled.

On one occasion, a young woman and I went out together to visit a less-active member of her class. The young Laurel president said before going, “I won’t know what to say.” I explained that I wouldn’t either, but in answer to our prayer, our Father in Heaven would be with us, and then we would know what to say. As we approached the door, we prayed again that we could feel the Spirit and be prompted in what to do and say. The door was only opened a crack at first, but gradually it opened wider, and eventually we sat talking with the young girl. She was home alone. This less-active daughter of God gradually began opening her heart as she had opened the door.
“I don’t have any friends,” she admitted.
“How about friends at church?” I asked.
“Oh, they’d never take me back,” she said in a tone of despair. “I left the Church to be with a friend, and then he left me.”
At once the Laurel president—who said she was afraid she wouldn’t know what to say—reached out, touched the hand of her friend, and said with eagerness, “Oh, we’ll take you back. We’ll take you back.”
At that moment I saw evidence of spirit speaking to spirit with a message stronger than words. It was a message of love. The class president reached the heart of that young woman like no one else could. She knew what to say.

A young man I know well was elected to be the student body president at a large university. The university sent him to a leadership seminar where student leaders from across the United States gathered in Chicago, Illinois, to be trained and educated. They participated in an initial game outdoors on the college campus so that they could become acquainted with each other. The students were presented with current issues facing today’s youth and were asked to take a position. In response to the issue presented, they were directed to run to several trees in the grassy area marked “strongly agree,” “partially agree,” “strongly disagree,” or “mildly disagree.”
Toward the end of this exercise, the leader asked, “Do you believe in premarital sex?” Without hesitation, this young man ran to the tree marked “strongly disagree.” To his amazement, he was the only one there! All the other student leaders were laughing and pointing at him and saying, “Oh, Jess, you are so funny. We all know you’re not really serious.” At that moment Jess said he knew exactly what he must do and so he loudly declared, “I’m not funny. I’m serious!” There was a stunned silence, and then the group dispersed, leaving Jess standing alone by the tree. He felt out of place and, yes, weird. But he wasn’t weird. He was right. And he was not alone. During the week, many of the student leaders came to him privately and said that they wished they had known years earlier what he knew. Jess later said, “It was easy because I knew that I represented not only the university but my family, the Church, and the Savior.”
A testimony that Jesus Christ is the Savior and Redeemer made Jess firm and quick to respond. You can gain that same confidence as you pray daily, search for answers in your scriptures, and obey the commandments. As you sincerely seek to gain a testimony, the knowledge that will come through the Holy Ghost will assist you with your challenges, with questions, and with living the standards. And it will be easy for you also to commit to be steadfast and immovable at all times and in all things and in all places.

Mother sighed. “It’s a picture of my cousin Kenny and me. Kenny was my best friend too. We both loved the early spring, when buds began to form on brown branches, green grass peeked out from patches of melting snow, and the river roared through the farm with spring runoff. Kenny was deaf and couldn’t hear it, but he could feel the spring sun warm his back as he played with Bridget, his huge pet sheep who was about to have baby lambs.
“We were both five. We talked to each other with our own made-up sign language. I loved playing with his large collection of farm toys, and he was always willing to share them.
“On that beautiful spring afternoon, the snow had been totally replaced by a carpet of green grass, and the creek had calmed from a roar to a strong, pleasant chuckle. Our mothers decided to let us go fishing.
“I was eager to try out my new bamboo fishing pole. A real fishing pole. Always before I had used a thick stick, like the one Kenny was still using.
“We sat side by side on our little perch, not moving so that we wouldn’t scare the fish. I threw my line into the creek, just the way my mother had shown me, being careful not to get it tangled. Kenny just sat there with his stick-pole, a sad expression on his face. Oh no! I thought. He wants a new pole too.
“Soon he motioned to me in our own private language that he wanted to use my new fishing pole. I shrugged him away, pretending not to understand. He tried again, more insistent this time. I looked away, pointedly ignoring him. Frustrated, he tried to pull the pole out of my hands.
“I pried his fingers off my pole and pushed him away. I wanted to tell him, ‘Just let me use it first for a little while. I’ll let you try it if you’ll only wait until I’m ready.’ But I didn’t know how.
“He was hurt and turned away. I reached over to pinch him, angry because he wouldn’t let me enjoy my new pole even for a moment.
“I looked up to see my mother taking our picture. My face burned with shame. I felt small and little and mean. I didn’t feel like fishing anymore.
“Handing my precious new pole to Kenny, I left to go play with Bridget. I loved to put my fingers deep into her soft wool. I looked back to see that Kenny was offering me his thick stick and motioning for me to come back and sit by him, but I ignored him.
“We had a picnic that day on the vast green lawn, with fancy little sandwiches cut in the shape of hearts, pink lemonade, and Aunt Dorothy’s angel food cake. We laughed when Bridget tried to steal a nibble.
“That was the last time I ever got to play with Kenny. Our mothers had planned this special day for us because Kenny was going into the hospital to have surgery, which the doctors hoped would help his ears.
“But something went wrong. Kenny died. My mother said that Kenny went to live with Jesus. I didn’t understand why he couldn’t stay right here with us.
“I missed him terribly. His mother put away all his farm toys and never got them out again. I wanted to play with them because then I could pretend that he was playing with me.
“Mom’s pictures came back from being developed, and the pinch was in that picture! Mom had the picture made big and ordered several copies so that Grandma and all my aunts and uncles could have a picture of Kenny.
“I have always felt sad about that mean pinch. Every time I see that picture of Kenny and me fishing, it makes me feel bad.”

Again, when I was a missionary, in the same village I referred to above, I came to know everyone. I remained there for a year and half with a total of two companions. After the experience with Labwujtok our teaching efforts accelerated. We were teaching a man named Amima Alik whose wife and some of his daughters had already joined the Church. Amima knew the truthfulness of the restored gospel but retained some personal challenges to overcome. But once he did, he became a backbone to the Church in the village. During one discussion we were considering eternal families and sealing ordinances. As we sat on mats in his humble home one evening, with a small wicker kerosene lamp providing light, he looked upon our picture of a beautiful temple, and he ruminated out loud, that such a blessing he could never realize. As a school teacher, he earned a little more money than some in the village, but he still greatly supplemented his subsistence by fishing and farming. His total annual salary was barely enough to buy two plane tickets to Hawai’i, and then how would they live for the rest of the year? All I could do was kindly submit that somehow, someday, he would be sealed to his wife. But honestly, I supposed I was offering an unrealistic hope to smooth over a moment of resignation.

This discussion was over 33 years ago. A few years back Elaine and I received a phone call from the temple to come up to help with some new patrons from the Marshall Islands who had just arrived. I felt pressed for time with my university and church responsibilities, but sensed I needed to somehow make arrangements to go. The temple president asked if I would interpret from English to Marshallese in the initiatory area for the new male Marshallese patrons. When I passed through the curtain to assist with the first brother I immediately stopped still, this man gazed up at me with a huge smile that quickly turned to tears. It was Amima. As he received the first part of this sacred ordinance I tried to interpret for him in his language, but I could barely utter the words through my tears and choking voice. Amima was shaking and wiping his eyes. The ordinance worker was puzzled, but knew something special was going on. In that moment I witnessed the power of unified souls, and we both knew God had given us a gift, that he had brought two points of time together, so we could both see his hand in this great tapestry of weaving together his purposes for the benefit of individual souls. For the remainder of the endowment Elaine and I aided as escorts for this great couple, and then, I served as a witness to their sealing as a couple and family. Time, temple and perspective, it all came together powerfully in the due time of the Lord.

In conclusion let me share an experience that is tender and even sacred to me. When I was first called to serve as Young Women general president, I felt terrified and inadequate. I lay awake for many nights worrying, repenting, and crying. After several nights of this, I had a very moving experience. I started thinking about my young women nieces, then about the young women in my neighborhood and ward, then about the young women I saw regularly at the high school, and then I envisioned young women of the Church throughout the world, over half a million of them. The most wonderfully warm feeling began to envelop me and surge through me. I felt such exquisite love for Latter-day Saint young women everywhere, each one of you, and I knew that what I was feeling was our Heavenly Father’s love for you. It was powerful and all-encompassing. For the first time I felt peace because I knew what Heavenly Father wanted me to do. He wanted me to witness to you of His great love for you. And so I testify to you again that I know beyond doubt that Heavenly Father knows you and loves you. You are His special daughter. He has a plan for you, and He will ever be there to lead you, guide you, and walk beside you (see “I Am a Child of God”). I earnestly pray that you will know this and feel this, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

He describes his introduction to the gospel: “Elder Pulsipher opened with prayer. He knelt down and asked the Lord in the name of Jesus Christ for what he wanted. His manner of prayer and the influence which went with it impressed me greatly. The spirit of the Lord rested upon me and bore witness that he was a servant of God. After singing, he preached to the people for an hour and a half. The spirit of God rested mightily upon him and he bore a strong testimony of the divine authenticity of the Book of Mormon and of the mission of the Prophet Joseph Smith. I believed all that he said. The spirit bore witness of its truth. …

“Liberty was then given by the elders to any one in the congregation to arise and speak for or against what they had heard as they might choose. Almost instantly I found myself upon my feet. The Spirit of the Lord urged me to bear testimony to the truth of the message delivered by these elders. I exhorted my neighbors and friends not to oppose these men; for they were the true servants of God. They had preached to us that night the pure gospel of Jesus Christ. When I sat down, my brother Azmon arose and bore a similar testimony. He was followed by several others.”

Three days later, after carefully searching the Book of Mormon, he was baptized on December 31, 1833. He wrote: “The snow was about three feet deep, the day was cold, and the water was mixed with ice and snow, yet I did not feel cold.”

by Barbara Sinclair
The clock read 6:45 A.M. on a Saturday morning. The Alaskan sun was hidden behind rain clouds for another hour as people trudged toward the chapel through the pale dawn. They separated to sing and dance and act their various parts in every nook and foyer of the building and then came together again to practice the finale. “We are royal children; we are kings!” sang the deeper, male voices. “We are royal children; we are queens!” replied the sopranos. And then together: “We are sons and daughters of our Heavenly Father. We’re a royal congregation, a royal dispensation. We’re a royal generation. Hear us sing!” And sing they did. The Anchorage Alaska North Stake completed five months of rehearsals and four successful, sold-out performances of their own original Mormon musical production A Royal Generation. Over 70 teenagers, 15 children, and 40 adults were involved in acting, singing, and dancing in the production. In addition, the Anchorage Youth Symphony Orchestra provided the musical accompaniment with a 17-piece orchestra. Church members and nonmembers encouraged, supported, and delighted each other in this experience.
The musical was the creation of three women, Joyce Cox, Barbara Sinclair, and Kaye Wallace, whose goal was to fill a need. They wanted to provide an experience that would be wholesome and that would try to answer many of the questions Mormon youth have about why it is important to choose to obey their Heavenly Father.
Each of the acts of A Royal Generation tells the story of a group of young people who had to make decisions and who found successful ways to do so. Act one concerned young adults deciding about missions, college, work, and marriage. The second act dealt with teenage dating problems, the selection of appropriate friends, and how to become independent though obedient. The final act outlined the difficulties of Mormon youth as they enter the teen years and select their directions and attitudes. When the Anchorage Youth Symphony Orchestra, most of whom are nonmembers, agreed to provide the music, the cast was thrilled. The orchestration was written by a local professional, and a 30-voice choir began to rehearse to back up the actors on stage.
The missionaries in Anchorage (who ushered at each performance) reported that many people expressed interest in the Church, and each request for more information was further adrenalin for the cast, crew, and orchestra.
Was all the time and effort, the cost and sacrifice, the sleeplessness and practice worthwhile? “My two friends who came to see me are taking the missionary discussions,” said one cast member. One look at her face was all the answer that was needed

At the end of a particularly tiring day toward the end of my first week as a General Authority, my briefcase was overloaded and my mind was preoccupied with the question “How can I possibly do this?” I left the office of the Seventy and entered the elevator of the Church Administration Building. As the elevator descended, my head was down and I stared blankly at the floor.
The door opened and someone entered, but I didn’t look up. As the door closed, I heard someone ask, “What are you looking at down there?” I recognized that voice—it was President Thomas S. Monson.
I quickly looked up and responded, “Oh, nothing.” (I’m sure that clever response inspired confidence in my abilities!)
But he had seen my subdued countenance and my heavy briefcase. He smiled and lovingly suggested, while pointing heavenward, “It is better to look up!” As we traveled down one more level, he cheerfully explained that he was on his way to the temple. When he bid me farewell, his parting glance spoke again to my heart, “Now, remember, it is better to look up.”
As we parted, the words of a scripture came to mind: “Believe in God; believe that he is … ; believe that he has all wisdom, and all power, both in heaven and in earth.” As I thought of Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ’s power, my heart found the comfort I had sought in vain from the floor of that descending elevator.
Since then I have pondered this experience and the role of prophets. I was burdened and my head was down. As the prophet spoke, I looked to him. He redirected my focus to look up to God, where I could be healed and strengthened through Christ’s Atonement. That is what prophets do for us. They lead us to God.

I had a letter only a few days ago from a man in Edinburgh, Scotland. His name is George Stewart. He’ll be surprised at my mentioning this, but he wanted to thank me because when he was 15 years old (some 40 years ago), I was presiding over the mission in Scotland. He wanted to thank me for the missionaries’ coming to their home in Thornliebank, one of the areas of Glasgow. He had joined the Church along with his mother.
He said that as he developed a testimony of the Book of Mormon, as he started reading it and as he kept reading it, he couldn’t put it down because he knew it was true. He kept reading and reading and developing a testimony of the gospel as a young man. He told how he used to come over to the mission home and how we were kind to him and we would spend time with the young people because they were getting into Mutual, which we were starting in the branches.
Then he told of the blessings that had come into his life as a young man, that he had met his sweetheart in that little branch—his wife—and that they were married and that they had four children: a son who had finished a mission in the Washington D.C. Mission; a son who served in the England Leeds Mission; a daughter who was married in the temple; and one who is waiting for the return of a missionary. He voiced gratitude for all of the blessings that had come into his life and the lives of his sons who have been on missions and his daughters.
During the past 40 years, he has served as a bishop four times in four different units, and his wife has served as a Relief Society president on three occasions. He is currently serving as a counselor in the Edinburgh stake presidency. He said, “And I’m going to be retiring very shortly from the company I’m with. I’ve done very well, and we plan to go out on a mission together.”
Then he said these words to me: “This amazing Church has woven a pattern of miracles in our lives.” Let me say that again: “This amazing Church has woven a pattern of miracles in our lives.”
And he says the gospel came into his life, to his wife, to all of his children, and to their children. The grandchildren are active in the Church, and he and his wife now have a great desire to go out into the world when they retire from their profession.

On board one of those overcrowded wooden sailing ships were my great-grandparents, their little family, and a few belongings. The waves were high, the voyage long, the quarters cramped. One little girl, Mary, had always been frail, but now with the passage of each day, her anxious mother saw the little one becoming weaker. She had a serious illness. There was no neighborhood clinic, no doctor’s prescription, no hospital—just the steady roll of the tired old ship. Day after day worried parents watched anxiously for land, but there was none. Little Mary could not withstand the hardships of the voyage. After days of feverish sickness, she peacefully passed beyond this veil of tears.
As family and friends crowded around on the open deck, the ship’s captain directed the service; and that precious, little body was placed tenderly in a tear-stained canvas, and dropped into the angry sea. Her strong father, in emotion-choked tones, comforted Mary’s grieving mother, repeating, “‘The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.’ (Job 1:21.) We’ll see our Mary again!”

Let me give you two or three vignettes.
The first is that of a young man who served in the Bolivia Cochabamba Mission. He lives with his faithful mother and nieces in a poor neighborhood. Their little home has a concrete floor, one lightbulb, the roof leaks, and the window is broken. He was a successful missionary. He says:
“My mission was the best thing that I have been able to do in my life. I learned to be obedient to the commandments and to be patient in my afflictions. I also learned some English and to manage my money, my time, and my skills better.
“Then, when I finished my mission, going home was difficult. My American companions went back to a university. But there is a lot of poverty in our country. It is very difficult to get an education. My mother does her best, but she can’t help us. She has suffered so much, and I am her hope.
“When I learned of the Perpetual Education Fund, I felt so happy. The prophet recognized our efforts. I was filled with joy. … There was a possibility I could study, become self-reliant, have a family, help my mother.
“I will study accounting at a local school where I can study and work. It is a short course, just three years long. I have to keep working as a janitor, but that is OK. Once I graduate and get a job in accounting, I will work toward higher education in international business.
“This is our opportunity, and we cannot fail. The Lord trusts us. I have read many times in the Book of Mormon the words the Lord told the prophets, that as we keep the commandments, we would prosper in the land. This is being fulfilled. I am so grateful to God for this great opportunity to receive what my brothers and sisters did not have, to help my family, to accomplish my goals. And I am excited to repay the loan to see others be so blessed. I know the Lord will bless me as I do it.”