Gospel Story Finder

“I’ll give you ten bucks to taste a beer tonight,” one boy coaxes.
“Yeah, I’ll add 20 to that,” another prods.
“Come on, you’ve got to at least try it once,” a third boy encourages. “You don’t even know what you’re missing.”
The offers are beginning to grow into a nice sum of money. Everyone is watching.
“I know you know I’m Mormon,” responds Sara Traina, 14, of the Jonesboro Georgia Stake. “I won’t do that.” But the boys persist in a half-serious, half-teasing manner.
What would you do?
Last summer at a Young Women’s conference, LDS girls from Georgia had the opportunity to spend five days discussing situations like this and learning how to handle them. The girls came up with a list of things they have found make their lives on earth happier and their quests for heaven a little easier.
Make up your mind what to do in difficult situations before they arrive. For Andrea Bennett, 17, of the Douglas Georgia Stake, turning down alcohol and R-rated movies at her junior/senior beach weekend wasn’t hard at all. “A lot of people were drinking, but when they asked me if I wanted some I just said no. I didn’t even have to think about it. I had made up my mind long before that happened I wouldn’t do those things. So when the offer came there wasn’t even a doubt in my mind what my answer would be. It would just happen. And it did.”
Hang Mormonads in your locker. Ginny Pettyjohn, 16, of the Sugar Hill Georgia Stake, says, “They remind me to always be good; plus they are a good influence on others when they see them.”
Last year Ginny’s locker was next to the locker of a guy known to drink a lot. He also liked to keep up on the latest Mormonads in Ginny’s locker. “One day a Mormonad about keeping the body and soul clean really seemed to intrigue him,” she says. “He kept looking at it but didn’t say anything.” The very next day he told Ginny a couple of his friends had come over the night before and asked him to go out drinking with them. But he thought about the Mormonad and decided not to go.
Make good friends. Cathy Geigle, 15, also of the Sugar Hill Stake, has moved a lot and has had to make new friends many times—member and nonmember alike. “It is always so much fun to go out with Mormons,” she says. But right now those occasions usually occur when there is a church activity, since there are not a lot of LDS students in her school. But that hasn’t kept Cathy from making good friends. “If you have a good, clean spirit and are living righteously, you will be attracted to other good spirits, even if they aren’t Mormon,” she says.
On Cathy’s first day of high school, she met Kelly. “We started talking, and I could just tell from the way she talked and acted we were a lot alike. Our spirits are alike. She’s been a good friend ever since.”
Pick a role model for yourself. “Joseph Smith is my hero,” says Anh Nguyen, 14, of the Atlanta Georgia Stake. “He was looking for Christ. He worried about finding the true church.”
And Anh can relate. It wasn’t too long ago her family came from Vietnam to the United States, and the missionaries found them. Then she, too, had to find out for herself what the truth was. She says she prayed just like Joseph did, and she received an answer.
“Joseph makes me want to stand up for what I believe like he did,” Anh says. “His example gives me strength.”
Read your scriptures. “It’s one of the best ways to come closer to Heavenly Father and to have your problems answered,” says Doralee Solomon, 17, of the Douglas Georgia Stake. “You can always go to your scriptures for help and get answers.” At one time Doralee had a friend who was smoking, and she didn’t know what to do about it. She didn’t know whether she should talk to the person, the bishop, or the parents. But after reading, praying, and listening to her Young Women lessons, she knew she needed to confront her friend. “I know reading my scriptures helped put me in tune for an answer,” Doralee says.
Pray. Before the Young Women’s conference, Allison Buytendorp, 17, of the Roswell Georgia Stake, didn’t want to go. But her mother suggested she pray about it before she made up her mind. Allison prayed and felt she should go. Now she knows why. “I loved it. I felt spiritually renewed afterwards, and it made me want to go to seminary. Now I want to learn more about the scriptures. I know I was where I was supposed to be because I prayed. It just feels good to know Heavenly Father is always there for you to help you out.”
Remember Sara from the beginning of this story? She was standing up for what she believes in. She never took the guys up on their offers. She politely refused and didn’t go to the party where the alcohol was being served. All her response did was gain her more of their respect. “I stand up for what I know is right the best I can,” Sara says, “and because I’m consistent I’m respected.”
Tucked away deep in the Bible Belt, where most people are strongly religious, these girls communed in a peaceful 4-H camp halfway surrounded by a lake, an hour and a half outside of Atlanta away from the worries of the world. They were able to listen to talks and programs of their choice on missionary work, dating, sharing talents, trusting each other, and preparing for the Second Coming, to name a few. They stayed in cabins and enjoyed conversations easiest held with girls of their own religion—conversations about subjects like returning to live with their Heavenly Father someday. Now they know there are many LDS girls out there going through the same situations they are, and they know what others are doing to make their quest for heaven a little easier. They can take those ideas home with them and use them in their own lives.

Just after 2:00 a.m. on October 26, 2003, Daniel Olsen, 17, hears his mother telling him that a wildfire is less than a mile away. “I jumped out of bed, but the power was out, so I couldn’t find my shoes,” he remembers. “My younger sister, Kelli, yelled, ‘What good are shoes if you’re dead?’” He grabbed his gym bag and ran out of the house barefoot.
Outside, Daniel can smell the smoke, see the oak trees silhouetted against the orange sky, and feel the ash in 50-mile-per-hour (80-km-hr.) winds swirling around him. “We started driving down Wildcat Canyon and said a prayer,” he says. “My mom honked the horn to wake others. I sang, ‘We are as the armies of Helaman’1 as loud as I could. It made me feel better.”
Daniel’s and Matthew’s houses were among the 2,232 lost during 11 days as this fire, named the Cedar Fire, burned more than 280,000 acres (113,300 ha) and killed 14 people, most of whom died in Wildcat Canyon. Twelve other fires were burning at this time in southern California, forcing more than 100,000 people to evacuate.
Daniel and Matthew, like other LDS youth affected by the fires, are emerging stronger as they learn that the gospel eases suffering during a crisis.
“Our relationship with the Savior survives everything,” says Daniel, who found comfort in the words “He that is righteous shall be righteous still; he that is happy shall be happy still” (Morm. 9:14).

116 Pages to Martin Harris In each of our lives, there are times when our sins bear down on us with such force that we ask, “Does God still love me after the terrible things I have done?” We may become depressed and wonder if we can ever be forgiven or return to our Heavenly Father.

During these times, we can take comfort in studying one of the more traumatic events in the life of the Prophet Joseph Smith. It was one of his defining moments. Its outcome demonstrated God’s great love for Joseph Smith and for each of us, His children.

Early in life, Joseph Smith had experienced one of the most significant events that could happen to any human being—a visitation by God the Father and his Son, Jesus Christ. This was followed by a period of time during which Joseph was tutored carefully by the angel Moroni; and after four years of preparation, he was allowed to take the gold plates from the Hill Cumorah, and he began to translate them.

However, the translation process went slowly until the Lord sent Martin Harris to be Joseph’s scribe. Martin’s interest in the translation intensified greatly after the Lord appeared to him in a vision. Martin was shown the marvelous work that the Lord was about to do and was told that he must go to New York City with some of the characters copied from the plates to show them to some of the learned of his day, thus fulfilling prophecies in Isaiah and 2 Nephi (Isaiah 29:1–12, 2 Nephi 27:15–20).

What took place during his visit to New York, sometime in February 1828, convinced the skeptical Martin Harris to become deeply involved in the translation of the gold plates, committing both his time and money (Joseph Smith-History 1:63). He acted as the Prophet’s scribe until June 14. By this time, Joseph had dictated at least 116 manuscript pages.

Joseph recorded that Martin “teased” him with requests to take the 116 pages from Harmony to Palmyra. He wanted to read them to his relatives to “convince them of the truth” of the work in which he was engaged. He pressured Joseph to ask the Lord, by means of the Urim and Thummim, whether Martin might take the manuscript. The Lord told the Prophet that he must not let it out of his hands. The answer was the same when Joseph, under Martin’s prodding, asked the Lord again for permission. But Martin finally persuaded Joseph to ask the Lord once more. This time the Lord allowed Joseph to let Martin take the manuscript, but under very strict conditions. Martin had to covenant with the Lord in writing that he would show the manuscript to only five people: his wife, his brother, his father and mother, and his wife’s sister.

June 14 and 15 1828, would be two days long remembered by the Lord’s prophet. On the fourteenth, Martin left with the 116 manuscript pages, which Joseph was never to see again. On the following day, Joseph and Emma lost their firstborn son, and because of Emma’s difficulties in childbirth, Joseph almost lost his beloved wife as well. Over two long weeks, his constant care helped her recover from near death. As Emma improved, Joseph had time to reflect that Martin Harris had not returned or sent word as promised. Joseph did not mention this to Emma, but eventually she brought it up, insisting that he go to Palmyra to see why Martin had not come back.

As the miles of the stagecoach journey rolled by, Joseph’s anxiety increased. He apparently began to realize for the first time the nature of his transgression. His mother, Lucy Mack Smith, states in her biography: “Although he was now nearly worn out, sleep fled from his eyes, neither had he any desire for food, for he felt that he had done wrong, and how great his condemnation was he did not know.” Joseph was so exhausted that he might not have made it to his parents’ home near Palmyra, but for the kindness of a stranger who insisted on accompanying him the last twenty miles on foot. The young prophet had to be led the last few miles, and fell asleep repeatedly as he walked. They arrived early in the morning.

As soon as Joseph received a little nourishment, he asked the family to immediately send for Martin Harris. By 8 AM, they had set the table for breakfast, expecting Martin to arrive any minute. Martin did not arrive until 12:30, however. “We saw him walking with a slow and measured tread towards the house, his eyes fixed thoughtfully upon the ground. On coming to the gate, he stopped, instead of passing through, and got upon the fence, and sat there some time with his hat drawn over his eyes. At length he entered the house,” Lucy Mack Smith wrote. Sitting at the table with the family as though to eat, Martin suddenly dropped his knife and fork and cried in agony, “Oh, I have lost my soul! I have lost my soul!” At this outcry Joseph could restrain himself no longer. “Martin, have you lost that manuscript? Have you broken your oath, and brought down condemnation upon my head as well as your own?” When Joseph’s worst fears were confirmed, he, too, cried out in great agony: “All is lost! All is lost! What shall I do? I have sinned—it is I who tempted the wrath of God. I should have been satisfied with the first answer which I received from the Lord; for he told me that it was not safe to let the writing go out of my possession.”

We can only imagine the turmoil in Joseph Smith’s heart as he thought about reporting to the Lord: “Then must I… return with such a tale as this? I dare not do it. And how shall I appear before the Lord? Of what rebuke am I not worthy from the angel of the Most High?”

Joseph Smith returned to Harmony, Pennsylvania, still reeling from the great losses he had experienced. To his surprise, the angel Moroni appeared, bringing him the Urim and Thummim, which earlier had been handed back to Moroni, but not so that Joseph could resume translation. Rather, he was to receive a chastening revelation from the Lord.

Section 3 of the Doctrine and Covenants stands as one of the great evidences of the Prophet Joseph’s divine calling. As Richard Bushman notes: “[In] the rebuke of Joseph in the revelation of July, 1828, … [t]here is no effort to conceal or rationalize, no sign of Joseph justifying himself to prospective followers. The words flow directly from the messenger to Joseph and have the single purpose of setting Joseph straight.”

“Behold, you have been entrusted with these things, but how strict were your commandments; and remember also the promises which were made to you, if you did not transgress them.

“And behold, how oft you have transgressed the commandments and the laws of God, and have gone on in the persuasions of men.

“For, behold, you should not have feared man more than God...” (D&C 3:1,3-7).

Joseph’s problem was similar to one we commonly face. Sometimes we are more concerned about what our friends think than about what the Lord desires. It is interesting that although Martin Harris was the one directly responsible for losing the manuscript, Joseph Smith received this very pointed rebuke.

The Lord said to Joseph, in effect, “I know the peer pressure was great, but remember that if you’re faithful, I will support you no matter how difficult the pressure gets.”

Joseph had used his divine calling improperly. He had been entrusted with a sacred record, had been granted access to divine help in translation, and yet had succumbed to the enticings of someone whose focus was on something else.

In his great love for us, the Lord indicates that there is still hope. These were his words to Joseph: “But remember, God is merciful; therefore, repent of that which thou hast done which is contrary to the commandment which I gave you, and thou art still chosen, and art again called to the work;”

Joseph was reassured that the translation of the Book of Mormon would not be thwarted because of his misstep. After a time during which Joseph humbled himself in mighty prayer before the Lord, the sacred records and accompanying items were returned to him on a very important date. It was the anniversary of Joseph’s annual visits to the Hill Cumorah, just one year after the young Prophet had originally been entrusted with the plates.

Thus ended one of the great learning experiences of Joseph Smith’s life. For him, a defining moment in which he learned about trusting completely in the Lord.

Tommy and Betsy were down at the creek scrubbing the breakfast dishes with clean white sand when they heard Brigham Young call the Saints to the central square. They barely had time to rinse the dishes in the boiling water their mother had ready before the five thousand people at Sugar Creek camp gathered to hear what Brigham Young, their leader, had to say. His message was brief: “I propose to go forward on our journey. Let all who wish, follow me.”
Tommy was jubilant. He grabbed Betsy by the hand and whirled her around, saying, “We’re going out west. At last we’re going out west.” Suddenly he stood still and said, “We can’t go out west now! Pa isn’t here.”
Tommy’s mother could see the disappointment in his face. “Your father will probably be here by noon tomorrow,” she said. “He expected to finish up his work in St. Joseph today, and if we have everything ready, we can leave as soon as he arrives.”
Tommy felt better, and by the time President Young gave the signal for the long train of five hundred wagons to start moving, he and Betsy happily waved good-bye to many of their friends and neighbors. When the wagon train was out of sight, they hurried back to ask Mother what they could do to get ready to go.
“You can churn,” Mother told Betsy.
The wooden churn was like a small barrel with a lid on it. Through the hole in the center of the lid Betsy pushed the handle of the dasher up and down until the cream was churned into yellow butter.
While Betsy was churning, Tommy filled the water barrel and secured it to the outside of the wagon so the family would have fresh water to drink when they could not camp by a spring or near a river. As Tommy was coming up from the creek, he saw a wagon drive into camp.
“It’s Pa!” he cried, and he dropped the bucket he was carrying and ran to greet him.
“Can we go out west now you’ve come?” questioned Tommy. “Over half of the people have already gone.”
“I’ll have to finish my churning before we can go,” said Betsy.
“And we must wait until the bread is baked,” added their mother.
Tommy’s father laughed. “I guess we won’t be going this afternoon,” he answered. “I bought another wagon and yoke of oxen in St. Joseph. That’s why I was able to return today; the men I went with won’t be back until tomorrow. The wagon is loaded with corn and wheat, and we must fix a cover to put over it.”
“Who’s going to drive the new wagon?” asked Tommy.
“I think your mother can drive it,” replied Father.
“I could drive it,” said Tommy.
Tommy’s father did not reply for a moment; then he said, “I think you could. We’ll let you try.” And before the oxen were unhitched from the wagon, Tommy’s father taught him how to hold the reins and how to crack the whip so as to startle the oxen but not to hurt them.
Tommy was so anxious to drive the oxen that he worked all afternoon so they could be sure to start early the next morning. He soaked in the creek the six strips of special wood his father had brought from St. Joseph. When they were soft and pliable, he helped Father secure them to one side of the wagon box, bow them over, and secure them to the other side. Together they lifted the big canvas cover up and over the top of the bows and stretched it tightly before securing it to each side.
Afterwards Tommy helped his father make a long deep grub box, and together they secured it to one side of the wagon. The small chicken coop Father had brought from St. Joseph was attached to the other side for the six hens he had brought with him. Betsy hoped that one of the hens would want to set so they could have some baby chicks.
Betsy and her mother packed the grub box with the dishes and the food they would use each day, then hung the big iron kettles on the outside of the wagon. When the dough was ready, Mother rolled some of it into loaves and Betsy made some biscuits to be baked over red hot coals in the dutch oven. When the biscuits were light and fluffy and toasty brown and the family was just getting ready to eat supper, the sound of music filled the air.
“It’s Pitt’s Brass Band!” exclaimed Tommy.
“So it is,” cried his father. “Let’s invite some of them to share supper with us.” He grabbed Tommy’s hand and started running toward the Nauvoo Road. Most of the two thousand people left in Sugar Creek joined them to greet the band.
When the band leader saw Tommy’s father, he handed him a trombone. Tommy was happy when his father started to play, for it reminded him of the good days in Nauvoo when Father was still a member of the band, before he had sold his trombone. The band marched straight to the square and the people followed like a giant parade, keeping step to the music. After the band members had eaten a warm meal, they gave a concert in the square.
The next morning Tommy got up especially early. He was too excited to sleep, thinking about driving the oxen. Finally the wagons were ready and he climbed onto the seat by the side of his mother to wait for the signal that would start the small train of thirty-two wagons toward the West.
At last the signal came. At that moment the band started to play, and with a flip of the reins and a crack of the whip, Tommy’s wagon began to move. The people in the wagons started to sing, and they did not stop until they reached the main camp of Israel ten miles away.

As my wife mentioned earlier, I lived in Tonga and Vava'u during the early part of my life. Although most of my family on my Tongan side were not members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I am indebted to them for their faith in God because it instilled in me a sense of wonder about my relationship with Him.

My earliest memory of worshipping God and Jesus Christ was attending the Wesleyan church in Tonga with my Aunt Va and Grandma Tulu. I often felt bored at church; however, there was always a palpable sense in my heart that I was doing good by going to church.

Before going to bed, Grandma and I would kneel in prayer, and she would petition Heavenly Father to bless and protect all eight of her children by name and the grandchildren by name. Her prayers were long, and I would usually fall asleep before she was done. Despite my inability to keep up with Grandma Tulu's prayers, I felt peace and comfort in our nightly rituals as I heard her pleadings with Heavenly Father.

For a young boy, hearing Grandma Tulu praying on behalf of her children and grandchildren felt good and wholesome. The more we prayed, the more I felt Grandma Tulu's love for me as she spoke tenderly of her children and grandchildren to Heavenly Father.

I am eternally grateful for Grandma Tulu because she showed me how to converse with Heavenly Father. Her examples of faith were critical in my desire to connect with heaven in my early years of life. Because of the profound impact she had on my life, my wife and I have named our daughter Tulu in her honor.

I didn’t notice her at first. She was merely a part of the sea of people milling about the reception hall. Then she stepped forward and, struggling for the right English words, pointed to her heart and said, “When you sing, you have a love.”

I looked into her red, tear-swollen eyes and smiled the warmest “Thank you” I could muster. I couldn’t speak. My heart was in my throat.

Looking around the hall, I could see that the other members of the BYU A Cappella Choir were having similar experiences. We were at Kibbutz Chatzerim in the middle of Israel’s Negev Desert. The love of the gospel of Jesus Christ expressed through song had bridged the gap of culture, language, and religion to touch the hearts of these people. It was our first concert in Israel and the beginning of a tour that, through music, would take the message of the Restoration to thousands of Jewish people.

I had a memorable experience with this principle when I was a student. I always worked hard in school to try to learn and prepare for the future. I knew that in order to leave poverty, I would have to find a career that would open doors to new opportunities in life. I also knew that in order to obtain this type of career, I would have to focus on my education.
As important as education was to me, I made the personal decision to forgo studying on Sundays. As a member of the Church, I knew the Lord had said that the Sabbath is His day, not ours. I tried to make purposeful decisions about what I would do on this special day. However, even after having made this decision, at times I was tempted to bend my own rule, especially when I had a test coming up. I would think, “It’s not bad; it’s just studying. I can go to church in the morning and study in the afternoon and evening.”
But as I remembered the promise I had made that I would remain active and faithful to the counsel of the Lord’s prophets, it was much easier to stick to my decision to not study on Sundays and instead use the Lord’s day for service and worship. I had already decided to remain faithful, so for me it was just a matter of interpreting what the Lord had said about the Sabbath day and applying His counsel as best as I could in my life.
I ended up excelling in my studies and obtaining a good career that helped me provide for my family. I know that because I kept my promise to the Lord, He blessed me to be able to create a better life.

I left my home in NanTze, Taiwan, to serve as a full-time missionary in northern California in 2005. The area my companion and I were assigned was small enough that within four and a half months we had knocked on doors of every street in the main town area. The missionary work was difficult, and people often yelled at us. We had few investigators. It seemed to me that the work was not going anywhere. After about four months there, I was ready to leave. I was convinced I would be transferred.
Sunday night I waited by the phone until my zone leader called. When he reported that I was assigned to stay in the same area for another six weeks, I couldn’t believe my ears. I thought there must have been a mistake!
The following week was a total disaster for me and probably for my companion and the people under our stewardship as well. I refused to believe this was the right decision. Still, I put on a big smile whenever we saw or talked to people, but deep inside I remained unhappy. In my pride I continued to tell myself that I was not where I was supposed to be. I still hoped that my mission president would call and tell me that I was being transferred to another area.
The next Sunday morning while I was grudgingly getting ready for church, the phone rang. It was the mission president. He greeted me with his usual kind, sincere voice and then said, “Sister Cho, yesterday at lunch I thought of you and had a feeling that I needed to call you to let you know you are in the right place. You are where you’re supposed to be.” I teared up when I heard his words.
I thanked him and hung up the phone. As I began to cry, a crystal-clear feeling came strongly to my heart that there were unfinished assignments waiting for me in our area. I also knew that my Heavenly Father knew my thoughts and frustration. He understood my weakness, and He sent His servant to reassure me.
After that phone call, I began to pull myself together. I prayed for strength every day, asking to see more clearly how I could do what the Lord expected me to do. Throughout the next five weeks, my companion and I witnessed many miracles as we exercised enough faith to work hard. A very prepared investigator moved into our area and was baptized within that transfer.
We were also invited into homes of people who originally hadn’t welcomed us. We met many new people who were having a hard time and were blessed to share the comforting words of God with them. Although some didn’t then choose to be baptized, I will never forget their shining faces or how the Spirit and the love of God touched their hearts—and mine.
I learned that the Lord is truly aware of every one of us; He doesn’t send His missionaries to places without a reason. I learned that when we are assigned to an area, the Lord wants to use us there as instruments to accomplish His work. When we put ourselves in His hands, miracles happen and hearts soften, even when we don’t see how this is possible.
Importantly, I learned that my mission president, like other Church leaders, was truly called of God to be His servant. The Lord qualifies our leaders to receive the revelation and inspiration we need for the welfare of our souls.
I am forever grateful for the experiences that came as a result of not being transferred.

One of the most remarkable stories is about my great-grandfather, who was Liberia’s first doctor. His mission was to bring healing and hope to those in need. He was later transferred to the deep forests of what is now the Nimba region, where he was granted vast lands to establish his medical mission.
This land became the foundation for a legacy of service and family. My great-grandfather had 24 wives and many children, and from generation to generation, his family grew. My grandfather, Samuel J. Mentee, was among them, and he continued the family legacy. By the time of his passing, he left behind an incredible record of 170 grandchildren, of which I am one.

One young man at age 13 commenced having his eyes rotated, through the seemingly simple act of opening-what looked to him to be-just another magazine.
But things are not always the way they appear to be.
Little did this little boy know, that he was opening a Pandora's box that would turn his life-and his views of life and love-upside down!
Initially, he was repulsed by what he saw, but then, through repeated viewing, his heart and mind began to crave what his eyes saw. As he immersed himself in more and more pornography, he barely noticed the rotating of his eyes-along with the twisting of his mind, and the hardening of his heart!
He started to believe that everyone looked at love and at life the way he did. He started to believe that lust was really love, and that all love was, was lust. His goal in life became to have one intense lust-filled experience after another. But, there was never enough lust to fill.
Because, remember: You can never sin enough to make you happy!
He participated in illicit sexual experiences prior to, and following, his mission-seeing them as no big deal.. And besides- there was always repentance. A quick confession to the Bishop every now and then....and then, out the door for more and more lust-filled experiences. But once again....there was never enough.
Little did he realize just what sexual sin was doing to his views of himself, his life, his wife-to-be, and their relationship.
Never did he imagine that sexual sin was actually decreasing his ability to identify, and really know, true love and true marital intimacy.
Never did he imagine that so many of the things the world was telling him to do, in order to increase his enjoyment of sexual experiences-were actually making it almost impossible for him to ever experience true sexual intimacy!
Never did he imagine that he was being duped by the adversary-so that real sexual fulfillment would always be-just beyond his reach.
With his eyes so drastically and devilishly "rotated", he approached his wife on their honeymoon in a manner that made her feel " like a thing". He experienced his wife's refusal to participate in certain sexual activities, as proof that she didn't really love him. He was put off!
What was wrong with her? How cold and non-responsive could she be!
Rejection and loneliness became his constant companions.
And because of his severe "eye rotation":
Wrong looked right.Right looked naiveLust looked like love.Love looked like control.
And pornography looked like his only fun, only friend, only refuge.
An anaesthetic to numb his intense pain and ever increasing loneliness.
With his continuing immersion in pornography-which riveted his eyes into their destructively rotated position:
But things are not always the way they appear to be.
Over time, pain and confusion started to re-emerge. He couldn't see, think, or feel straight. He couldn't tell what was real-and what was illusion.
The day his wife put all his belongings out on the front lawn, and left a note indicating that she was filing for divorce, was like a whack on the side of his head.
A beneficial whack, that momentarily corrected his vision-reversing the adversary's "rotation" process.
He saw his life for what it really was....a crying shame! And he cried. And he felt ashamed.
Suddenly, sexual sin looked stupid...and he realized how stupid it had made him. His past choices-that had looked like freedom-now looked like chains. His affair looked like one gigantic death trap! His wife looked loving and patient, rather than pushy and cold. Prayer now looked like the sure refuge from the storms of his raging emotions. And so he prayed. He prayed as he had never prayed before. He prayed for freedom from the lustful feelings that held him captive. And he fasted-for courage and for endurance.
His initial humiliation grew into true humility. Regret, turned into remorse, and into a sincere desire to thoroughly repent of his adultery.
In this state, the Spirit returned to his life, and started the process of permanently reversing the adversary's rotation of his eyes, so that he could see things are they really are.
But the process was not easy! One main reason for the intense difficulty in correcting this man's vision was that, although he had been immersed in the waters of baptism when he was eight, his experience with the Gospel since that time, consisted only of a little sprinkling: a little sprinkling of a quick prayer from time to time, a little sprinkling of a few scriptures here and there. Church attendance-but never a time of worshiping and seeking after God. Fasting, only because his parents demanded it.
This intermittent sprinkling of Gospel truths in his life, gave this man only enough experience with the Gospel to feel guilty, but not enough experience to feel joy-the kind of joy that comes through immersion in the Gospel-regular immersion, for example, in prayer, scripture study, temple worship, and fasting.
Are you sprinkling your life with the Gospel-or are you immersing yourself in it?
Tragically, the only thing this man had immersed himself in, since his immersion in the waters of baptism, was pornography-which President Hinckley has termed, "the literature of Lucifer."[7]
Therefore, this man didn't have a reservoir of experiences with the Spirit, from which to draw-a reservoir that could have given him rejuvenating strength, for the rigorous days of change ahead.
At one point, when the process of change became so intensely discouraging, this man turned all of his feelings completely off!! "I have to numb myself" he told me. What a sad irony! This man, who had seen himself as being so passionate, was now unable to feel anything, for anyone. In every way, he was "past feeling."[8]
It was only as he avoided everything and anything that was sexually explicit, or even suggestive, and only as he regularly and relentlessly immersed himself in experiences with the Spirit, that the evil "rotation" of his eyes was corrected.
Slowly, he began to see that if he wanted real excitement in his life, obedience to the Lord's commandments was the only way to go. He had learned by sad experience that while sin looks exciting, sin and its consequences are pathetically predictable!
He started to see that while obedience used to look so boring, he soon discovered that it is obedience that unlocks the door to a thrill a minute. He came to experience that when the Lord knows He can trust you, it's almost impossible to imagine what magnificent experiences await![9]
He began to see that purity and passion go together. That "pure passion"-meaning, that passion which has been purified by the Holy Ghost-and therefore, is magnified, expanded and enhanced--is always greater, in every way, than impure passion![10]

Simone has other favorites too. He loves animals and always wanted to have a pet of his own. Not long ago, his dream came true! “My brother and I got two dogs!” he said with a smile. “We named them Birba and Quinzia.” Birba (which means “naughty”) is a small basset hound; Quinzia is a boxer.
Simone and his brother, Emanuele, love to play with the dogs and take them for walks around their neighborhood. Of course, having pets also means taking care of them. But Simone’s mother, Christina, says that he is very willing to do that. “He also helps with other chores around the house,” she adds, “and because I work outside the home, that is very important to me.”

It was a warm summer morning as Josh followed his dad into the hardware store. Outside, bees hummed and sprinklers hissed, but inside everything was cool and quiet. Josh stood at the window and watched a bee bump against the glass.
Then something on a shelf caught his eye—a pocketknife gleaming in the sunlight near the window. Josh was sure he could use a knife like that for all sorts of things. But he didn’t ask Dad if he could buy it. He already knew what Dad would say: “You should wait until you’re a Boy Scout to get a pocketknife.” Josh didn’t want to wait until then. He wanted a pocketknife right now.
Josh looked over his shoulder. Dad was busy paying the cashier for some work gloves. Josh snatched the knife and put it in his pocket.
“Ready to go?” Dad asked.
Josh followed Dad to the car, his heart thumping like the bee against the window. As they drove away, Josh smiled. No one had noticed! The knife was his.
So why did it feel like a heavy rock in his pocket?
By the time Josh got home, he felt like he had a rock in his stomach too. Josh went to his room and took out the knife. It didn’t seem to gleam anymore. Josh tried to imagine what kinds of things he’d use it for, but he couldn’t think of any. Besides, if he took the knife out of his room, Dad might see it.
Josh felt anxious all day. The knife’s weight in his pocket kept reminding him of the wrong choice he had made. He had to get rid of it.
“Can I ride my bike?” he asked Mom.
“Yes, just be home in time for dinner,” Mom said.
Josh hurried to get his bicycle from the garage and pedaled onto the sidewalk.
“Hey, Josh! Where are you going?” Josh’s brother Tanner called from his friend Chris’s yard.
Josh didn’t slow down. He raced to the end of the street, where a brick wall was built into a hillside. Josh found a crack between the bricks and stuffed the pocketknife into the dark hole. No one would know what he’d done. Now he could forget about it too.
A few hours later, Tanner and Chris burst into the house. “Look what we found!” Tanner held up the pocketknife.
Josh tried not to look guilty. “Where did you get that?” he asked.
“We followed a bee,” Tanner said.
“You followed a bee?” Mom repeated.
“We were bored,” Tanner said. “We chased the bee to the end of the street. It crawled into a hole in the brick wall, and that’s where the pocketknife was.”
Josh felt sick. Even though he’d hidden the knife, Heavenly Father knew where it was. He went to his room and counted the dollar bills in his wallet. Then he prayed for the courage to tell the truth. When he got up from his knees, the anxiousness in his mind quieted. He felt a little nervous about telling his parents and the cashier at the hardware store what he had done, but he felt lighter than he had all day—like a bee zipping over the rooftops toward home.

As a Montana rancher for most of my 70 years, I treasure the parable of the good shepherd, found in John 10:1–18, for I have lived it. The following experiences were particularly powerful in bringing this parable to life.
In biblical times each shepherd vocally summoned his personal flock from the many herds pooled together into a nighttime sheepfold (see vv. 3–4). Likewise, whenever I move my sheep, I simply call, and they follow.
Years ago my spry 96-year-old neighbor, Alice, who also raised sheep, became ill during lambing season, so I offered to do her night lambing. When I entered her lambing shed my first night “on duty,” Alice’s nearly 100 ewes were peacefully bedded down for the night. Yet when I appeared, they immediately sensed a stranger in their midst. Terrified, they instantly sought safety by huddling together in a far corner (see v. 5).
This continued for several nights. No matter how quietly I entered, the sheep panicked and fled. I spoke soothingly to the newborn lambs and ewes as I tended them. By the fifth night they no longer stirred as I worked among them. They had come to recognize my voice and trust me.
Sometime later I told Alice I would feed her dozen or so bum lambs their bottles. (A bum lamb is one whose mother has died or cannot produce enough milk.) Imitating Alice, I called to her lambs, “Come, BaBa! Come, BaBa!” I expected the lambs to hungrily stampede me as they did her. But not a single lamb even glanced up. Alice then stepped out her kitchen door and called. Hearing her voice, they eagerly rushed toward her, clamoring for their milk.
Intrigued, Alice and I conducted an experiment. Standing in my corral, Alice mimicked my call: “Here, lamby, lamby! Here, lamby, lamby!” and received no response whatsoever. But when I called with the exact same words, my sheep quickly surrounded me. Even though the words we used to summon the sheep were identical, our unfamiliar voices went unheeded. The sheep loyally heard only their true shepherd (see v. 4).

Sometimes I wanted immediate blessings from Heavenly Father. I thought He’d bless me with fewer panic attacks just because I went to church. But I’ve learned that it doesn’t work that way. I often have to push through the attacks and attend church before I can see His blessings.
Now I’ve realized I can also ask for help from my parents and medical professionals. I still have bad days, but they don’t control me. Instead, they help me prove to my Heavenly Father that I love Him and that I’ll fight through this challenge with His help.

The children shuffled in as usual, the timid ones clinging to their mothers’ skirts, the bold ones smiling happily on the front rows. Everything seemed normal—except who is that playing the music? Someone different is conducting, and look at all those teenagers scattered among the children.
In the Vancouver 9th Ward, Vancouver Washington Stake, the Young Men and Young Women took over the Primary for one day. The adult members of the ward had been called to attend a special meeting with the bishop. The young people gladly accepted the assignment as substitute teachers and music leaders. Both the children and the youth loved the experience as they learned from each other.

Women in the Apia Samoa East Stake told us,

We . . . decided to approach the government if it was all right for the Stake Relief Society sisters to plant some flowers around the town clock. We chose the town clock because it is right in the middle of the town, and we felt it would be just the right place to have a beautiful garden. Its flowers would bear the theme of the Relief Society, “Charity Never Faileth.” The government was thrilled. . . . They thanked us wholeheartedly, and then they asked us if there was any way we could paint the 20-foot clock tower as well. We told them . . . we would see what we could do. . . . The stake did not have money, which did not worry us a bit. We only wanted them to approve it, as we had a strong feeling and belief if it was the will of the Lord, things will work out. . . . Paints and equipment were donated, professional painters offered themselves and their time, and the priesthood of our . . . stake also helped out with the work. The sisters of the eight units of our stake worked in scraping the old paint off, scrubbing and cleaning the clock tower, and, of course, in planting the flowers. We will be taking turns in maintaining the gardens there for the whole year. Again, the sisters were generous and willing.

Last Spring when the Concert Choir was in "boot camp", meeting four hours daily in final preparations for our international tour, it was hot and tiring and stressful. Then a choir pixie started writing short positive and complimentary notes anonymously to individuals. I received a couple my self. "They would say, "Thanks for your cheerful attitude and for working so hard in choir. I admire you. Love the choir pixie." These were spread throughout the choir. We never found out who wrote them, but it really had a positive effect on all of us. We began to treat every one in choir as if he or she were the one. I noticed that attitudes softened and people were easier and more positive with each other. Thank you, choir pixie, whoever you were.

Likewise, trusted family members, leaders, and friends can be helpful in our efforts to change. When I was eight years old, my older brother, Lee, and I would spend time with our friends playing in the branches of a neighborhood tree. We loved being together in the fellowship of our friends in the shade of that tree. One day, Lee fell out of the tree and broke his arm. Having a broken arm made it hard for him to climb the tree by himself. But life in the tree just wasn’t the same without him there. So some of us steadied him from behind while others pulled on his good arm, and without too much effort, Lee was back in the tree. His arm was still broken, but he was with us again enjoying our friendship as he healed.

I am a level 5 gymnast at my gymnastics club, and I was having a very good season. The state meet was coming up, and if I did well in the state meet, I would qualify for region. But the region meet was going to be on a Sunday. I had been working so hard to get to this point, and I wanted to go, but I felt like I shouldn’t.
A couple days later was fast Sunday, and I told my mom and dad what I was going to fast for. Together with my family we fasted that I would know what the Lord wanted me to do. I fasted Saturday night, all the way to Sunday dinner. Boy, that was hard.
That night when I was sitting with my mom, I decided that I shouldn’t go. I felt good and peaceful about my decision. The next day my mom got an email saying the region meet was changed to Friday. The following week I competed at state and took first place all-around, and now I get to go to regions in Colorado.
I know my prayer was answered. My faith in fasting and prayer is a lot stronger.

Working on personal appearance was of great interest to the girls in the Orem Utah Stake. For several Saturday mornings, the girls met to learn about choosing and caring for a wardrobe, personal grooming, and poise. The workshops stressed the importance of letting their outward appearance reflect their inner beauty. Lorien Eastly and Jody Brinholt were unanimous in their selection of a favorite workshop session. They both enjoyed learning how to walk and how to handle themselves in potentially embarrassing situations. Jody said the workshops gave both her and her friends more confidence. “Now we just feel a lot better about ourselves. Our leaders taught us that when we look good we don’t have to be concerned with ourselves and we can pay attention to others.” Poise and beauty were added to the basket.