Gospel Story Finder

Not very long ago, my family and I had the opportunity to preside over the Australia Sydney Mission. I had come out of the Missionary Department, and I suppose my missionary views were very conservative. At any rate, as we began our work in the Australia Sydney Mission, we had some modest, but good, successes, and I felt comfortable about what we were doing—until President Kimball spoke to us. In his own manner and in his own way, he said, “Brother Dunn, Loren, we must all lengthen our stride.” And I got the message.
The message was that although we had made progress, yet before the Lord and before the prophet, it wasn’t enough. We went back, we redoubled our efforts; we found increased growth, but also we found increased strength and new stakes evolved because of those efforts. I don’t think the progress was so much because of us, but because of our desire to follow the prophet.

Gaining an education was the goal of Roberto Flete Gonzalez of the Dominican Republic, who enrolled in college shortly after returning from his mission. His father agreed to cover his living expenses so that Roberto could focus on his studies, but a short time later, Roberto’s father died, leaving the family in a dire financial situation.

Roberto quit school and began working to support himself, his mother, and his sister. He wondered how he’d ever be able to finish school.

Weeks later President Hinckley announced the Perpetual Education Fund, “a bold initiative” that would help youth in developing areas “rise out of the poverty they and generations before them have known.”6 Roberto applied for and was granted a PEF loan, which allowed him to continue his studies. This opportunity not only helped with immediate finances, but it also helped Roberto have the faith to marry and form an eternal family because he knew he would be able to provide for them.

Roberto finished medical school while serving as a bishop and became the first Church member on the National Board of Dominican Medical Schools. But the best results, he says, have been at home. “There have been changes in my family as we are now further removed from the cycle of poverty,” he says. “I am grateful that my son won’t have to live the same way I did because we’ve stepped out of that cycle.”

I know a man, a dear friend, whose mortal service in the vineyard ended last night at 11:00. He had been treated for cancer for years. During those years of treatment and of terrible pain and difficulty, he accepted a call to hold meetings with and be responsible for members in his ward whose children were gone from their homes; some were widows. His calling was to help them find comfort in sociality and gospel learning.

When he got the final sobering prognosis that he had only a short time to live, his bishop was away for a business trip. Two days later, he sent a message to his bishop through his high priests group leader. He said this about his assignment: “I understand the bishop is out of town, so I’m in action. I’m thinking of a meeting for our group next Monday. Two members can take us for a tour of the Conference Center. We could use some members to drive them and some Scouts to push wheelchairs. Depending upon who signs up, we may have enough oldsters to do it ourselves, but it would be good to know we have backup if needed. It could also be a good family night for the helpers to bring their families as well. Anyway let me know before I post the plan. … Thanks.”

And then he surprised the bishop with a phone call. Without reference to his own condition or his valiant efforts in his assignment, he asked, “Bishop, is there anything I could do for you?” Only the Holy Ghost could have allowed him to feel the bishop’s load when his own load was so crushing. And only the Spirit could have made it possible for him to create a plan to serve his brothers and sisters with the same precision he used in planning Scouting events when he was young.

So, with unwavering faith, courage and resolute in purpose, I joined the queue to pay my respects to my late queen as she lay in state, on 14 September. I knew others had already been camping overnight to ensure their places in the queue; those joining it were warned to expect waiting times of up to 30 hours.
I went prepared for most eventualities and, upon joining the end of the queue, soon introduced myself to those in front of me and to those rapidly joining behind. Many have since attested to what I experienced: moments of quiet contemplation, joviality, camaraderie, and a willingness to consecrate our time together in sharing food, watching others’ belongings, and offering to purchase further snacks for each other.
As we went through security at Westminster Hall, we said our mutual goodbyes. Then a solemn reverence descended as those present who, unified in grief, filed past Queen Elizabeth’s coffin, adorned by the magnificent crown jewels. I was so overcome by the tangible presence of the Holy Spirit, that I began to weep.
It occurred to me how much the entire experience reflected the concept of enduring well once we get on the covenant path, by saving others and being served along the way, keeping our spirits up, sacrificing our time, and being one in purpose.
For the few short hours that I was in the queue—only eight—my reward was a precious moment long enough for me to curtsey and blow a kiss towards the coffin.

2. After Alice and Alvin were married, Alvin continued to spend long hours with his bachelor friends playing golf, hunting, and discussing business. Alice, anxious not to nag Alvin or be domineering, kept her feelings of disappointment at being left home to herself. Alvin began sharing his triumphs and experiences with his friends not with Alice.

This was the first danger signal—lack of communication. Then Alice, like Alvin, turned to someone else: a friendly neighbor man whose interest Alice found comforting. Their friendship soon became serious.

Alice and Alvin had a difficult time working through the problem. It required evaluation of their goals, repentance, and forgiveness for both of them. Both were guilty of finding persons outside their marriage to satisfy most of their emotional needs. No one should expect his spouse to satisfy all of his needs, but a marriage cannot survive an emotionally barren atmosphere.

One of the missionaries who served with me had a difficult time getting along with companions. I was required to transfer them frequently because they could not take it. Finally, I asked one of my finest missionaries to become his companion, urging him to do all he could to help his fellow missionary love his work. As I approached a conference in the city where they were laboring, I feared he, like his predecessors, would ask for a transfer. To my surprise, when I asked how he was getting along with his companion, he responded: “We are doing great! We discovered we had something in common. Neither of us has been to Africa!”

We grew so close together over the years as friends that even after I was married she continued to teach me great lessons. We lived next door to each other. When I would return home from work, I had to pass her home before going into my home. During her later years she had arthritis, and I always worried about her health. One of the first days after my wife and I were married and I arrived home from work, I stopped in at my mother’s house before going to my own. I will never forget the experience of having her take me by the arm and escort me right back out of her house with this counsel, “You go see your wife first and tell her you love her. Then you can come and see me.”

When my friends and I arrived at the trailhead, I quickly realized that I was missing a flashlight. All my friends had their own, but I had completely forgotten to bring anything to help me navigate the trail in the pre-dawn darkness.
As we worked our way up the mountain, not having a light became a serious issue. At times we would cross slippery ice fields. Without a light to help me, I was in real danger of taking a wrong step in the dark and tumbling down the mountain.
But my friends found a solution: I could walk between two of them. I followed the light from my friend in front of me and sometimes fell back into the sphere of light from my friend behind me. Their willingness to share their light allowed me to safely make the journey.
When we reached the summit, the sun was coming up. I realized I never would have made it without my friends. It is so important to have friends who illuminate our paths with the gospel of Jesus Christ. They can help us avoid danger and find our way. I want to be the kind of friend that helps and leads others.
Julia W., Georgia, USA

On the evening the special event occurred, I entered the place for the meeting and was immediately intrigued by the arrangements that had been made. All who entered were asked to sign their names on slips of paper that were then folded and dropped into a cardboard box. When the large crowd was seated, and the honored guest had taken his place on the stand, there was a song and a prayer, and then the chairman arose to announce the proceedings. No speakers had been assigned for the evening, he said. He pointed to the cardboard box that was now on the rostrum. Names would be drawn from the box, he explained, and those who were chosen in this manner would be asked to represent all who were present in making expressions of appreciation and love for our friend.
One by one the names were drawn. As the hour passed, a procession of unrehearsed speakers filed to the podium and revealed the story of selfless service that our friend had given to members of the community.
As the meeting drew to a close, the name of a local physician was drawn from the box. For many years the good doctor had lived as a neighbor to our honored friend. He had recently returned to his home following treatment in another state for what had proved to be a near-fatal illness. As he spoke, he explained that for many years he had contemplated how his own life and that of our friend had been devoted to serving others. He told of leaving his home to make professional calls at hours both early and late, and of frequently encountering our friend departing on what appeared to be responses to the call for help from someone with a problem. At these times, the doctor said, he felt particularly close to his neighbor in the fellowship of service that they shared.
At this point in his remarks, the doctor paused, and his voice became touched with emotion. Making reference to his recent illness, he related how he had left this same community several months before, not knowing whether he would ever recover and return. No farewell testimonial had been held in his honor. He confessed that he had been disturbed by the obvious difference in the feelings of the community toward himself and our friend, especially in view of the service that both of them had given. Tonight, he said, he had learned why this was so.
With all of the apparent parallels between his life and that of his friend, there was one very important difference that had set them apart from each other in the eyes of the people in the community. For all of his services, the doctor pointed out, he had collected a fee. That was the difference. He had not realized until tonight how much his fees had cost him.
All of us who knew the good doctor and had benefitted from his kindly ministrations realized that he was being too critical of his own compassion and charity. But he succeeded, in those dramatic circumstances, in teaching all of us a lesson that we would not soon forget.

Melissa ran her fingernails over the frosted bus window, making designs. It was so cold outside that the window soon frosted over again.
Camille poked Melissa. “Look what Kathy is wearing today,” she whispered, giggling.
Melissa’s eyes followed Camille’s pointing finger. Kathy sat by herself, her tangled hair sticking out of an old wool hat. Her coat was too short in the sleeves. Her canvas shoes had holes in the toes, and she wasn’t wearing socks. Kathy’s eyes were downcast.
“We shouldn’t be mean,” Melissa said. “I think her family must be really poor.”
“You don’t have to be rich to brush your hair,” Camille said.
“Shh!” Melissa warned.
When the bus stopped, Melissa watched Kathy get off the bus and walk with her little brother toward a small house. No Christmas decorations were visible. No lights. No tree. When Melissa got home, Kathy’s sad face wouldn’t leave her mind. It didn’t seem fair that some people had so much and others so little.
After dinner, Melissa went to their Christmas tree and picked up each of her presents—one from Grandma, one from her best friend, and one from her little brother.
Melissa took her presents over to the table where her parents were talking. “I want to give these away,” she blurted out, before she could change her mind.
Mom and Dad looked surprised. “Why?” Dad asked.
Melissa told them about Kathy.
“I know her family,” Dad said. “Their father died a few years ago, and there are four children in the family.”
“May I give her my presents?” Melissa asked.
“We can do even better than that,” Dad said.
Mom smiled and nodded. “We certainly can.”
Melissa’s family spent the next two days in a frenzy. They cut and decorated another tree, baked more Christmas goodies, and bought food for another Christmas dinner. They gathered clothes for the children—socks, shoes, hats, coats, gloves, shirts, pants, and dresses.
Then Melissa and her brothers opened their presents and rewrapped the ones they wanted to give away. Melissa’s present from her brother was a doll she had been wanting since September. She thought about giving Kathy one of her other presents instead. Then, thinking how happy it would make Kathy, she wrapped the doll in the prettiest paper she could find and put a big red bow on top.
On Christmas Eve, the family loaded all of the presents into the van. Dad drove slowly past Kathy’s house and stopped the van behind a big bush.
Melissa and her older brother, Trent, loaded their arms with presents and followed Dad up the walk. Melissa heard the snow crunching loudly under her boots.
“Please don’t hear us,” she thought.
When they reached the front step, Dad set down the tree in its stand and a big box filled with food. Melissa and Trent hurried to set down their armloads too.
Dad rang the bell and whispered, “Run!”
Everyone ran to hide behind the bush. Melissa tried to quiet her loud breathing as she watched to see what would happen.
When Kathy’s little brother opened the door, he looked around, his eyes huge. Then he yelled, “Mom, Kathy, look! It’s Christmas! It’s Christmas!”
Then Kathy came to the door, looking astonished and happy. Melissa had never seen her smile like that before.
On the way home, Melissa felt like she was going to explode with joy. “This is the best Christmas ever!” she said.

It started innocently enough. Like most other children, I would sit by the window, look out at the stars, close my eyes, and make my wishes. I wished for everything my childish mind could dream of: a pony, a puppy, a fairy godmother. I never got my wishes, but that was okay because it was all done in fun.
I grew older and stopped wishing on stars. But, unfortunately, I didn’t stop wishing. Now it took on a definite covetous tone. I wasn’t wishing for a puppy or a pony, but I wished I could be more like Kathy, because all the boys liked her, or I wished I had clothes like Linda’s.
Whenever I saw someone with something I didn’t have, I thought of how much happier I would be with it, so I would start wishing for it. Almost everyone I met seemed to have something I didn’t have. I began to believe that everyone else had everything, and I had nothing.
Of course I began to feel sorry for myself. I would whine, “If only things were different.” Or, “It’s just not fair!” Or, “Why me?”
So how did I ever find my way out of this quagmire of envy and self-pity? Believe it or not, I found my answer in the Church hymnbook. One Sunday I was sitting behind a girl who had extremely beautiful hair. I was wishing that mine were that long and shiny when we began singing “Count Your Blessings” (Hymns, 1985, number 241).
Now, I had probably sung that hymn dozens and dozens of times, but it never meant anything to me until then. For the first time, I paid attention to the words. Why was I always wishing for things I didn’t have? Why did I feel angry and cheated because life wasn’t treating me fairly? The answer was right there in the hymn. I wasn’t counting my blessings. All I ever thought about was what I didn’t have, which completely obscured my awareness of all the things I did have.
I went home from church and did exactly what the hymn said to do. I made a list of all my blessings. First came the obvious ones, like home and family, food and clothing. But then I wrote down other things like my personal strengths and assets, the many opportunities and positive experiences I’d had, my understanding of the gospel and the unique perspective that added to my life. When I added them up, I counted more than 100 blessings. As the hymn says, I really was surprised.
I carried this list for a long time, and whenever I found myself slipping back into my old wishing habit, I would read the list. It always helped me to have a feeling of gratitude rather than one of envy and self-pity.
Finally the day came when I didn’t have to carry the list anymore because I no longer needed to wish for things. I was happy for others and their blessings, because I was more aware of my own blessings. I became much happier once I finally quit wishing.

Five years later, looking back on the incomplete construction of the Nauvoo Temple, Joseph knew his journey’s end was near and that he was going “like a lamb to the slaughter,” yet he was “calm as a summer’s morning.” With assurances for his protection, he submitted to one more arrest. However, his trust was dishonored. On June 27, 1844, he and his brother Hyrum were savagely murdered in Carthage Jail.

For many young people, the high school years can be difficult. The pressure to fit in with the crowd—coupled with school, sports, and the struggle to find an identity—can create situations that make it hard to live life in harmony with gospel standards. I was certainly no exception. There were many times when I questioned both my ability to live righteously and my strength to overcome temptation. I watched a close friend, who was a Church member, fall to temptation. I saw him continually make poor decisions until he dropped out of school and began to refuse my aid and advice. As I saw most of my friends surrender themselves to Satan’s will, and as I felt a separation growing between us, I feared I would be the next to fall.

I began to realize, however, that whenever I was faced with a difficult decision, I had already made the choice. I knew what was right, and I had already decided that I was going to serve a mission.

Ever since I was young, I have been eagerly looking forward to serving a mission, and I don’t want to do anything to put that in jeopardy. This desire and goal to serve has been a tremendous blessing in my life. I think it has truly separated me from my friends in high school. This sense of purpose has helped me in all of my decisions. I have not even served a full-time mission yet, but already I can feel the blessings that I am receiving because of my choices.

A mother of four knelt with her family around their kitchen table and prayed for help in paying their assessment. That evening she received a phone call from a neighbor lady, asking if she would tend her small children on a regular basis. Some six weeks earlier the sister’s offer to tend these same children had been refused because her fee was too high. The neighbor explained that she had been strongly impressed that afternoon that this sister would provide the most loving care of any person she had considered, and this was worth whatever fee the member wanted to charge.

When Kathy and I were married and sealed in the Logan Utah Temple, then-Elder Spencer W. Kimball performed our sealing. In the few words he spoke, he gave this counsel: “Hal and Kathy, live so that when the call comes, you can walk away easily.”
Initially, we did not understand what that counsel meant for us, but we did our best to live our lives in such a way that we would be prepared to leave to serve the Lord when the call came. After we had been married nearly 10 years, an unanticipated call did come from the Commissioner of Church Education, Neal A. Maxwell.
The loving counsel given by President Kimball in the temple to be able to “walk away easily” became a reality. Kathy and I received a call to leave what seemed an idyllic family situation in California to serve in an assignment and in a place that I knew nothing about. However, our family was ready to leave because a prophet, in a holy temple, a place of revelation, saw a future event for which we were then prepared.

For the first twenty-four years of my life I was an active member of one of this multitude of churches of Christendom. However, I had many unanswered questions which prompted me to listen to the young Mormon missionaries when they knocked on our door in England. Similar questions remain unanswered for millions of people who claim membership in some church but who do not have a clear understanding of the Savior’s teachings.
I would therefore like to suggest ten questions which members of any church might ask our missionaries, or, indeed, any Latter-day Saint. My life was changed, along with my dear wife’s, as we met with the missionaries, asked questions, and prayed to know the truth.
Question number one: Why doesn’t God speak to us today? My wife and I grew up as teenagers during the Second World War, and this question often came to our minds. We felt strongly the need for God’s guidance then, as we do today in these challenging and perilous times. Anciently, through the prophet Amos, the Lord had declared, “Surely the Lord God will do nothing, but he revealeth his secret unto his servants the prophets.” (Amos 3:7.) I never felt that revelations had ceased just because those already given had been bound into a book, the Holy Bible.
It was not until five years after the hostilities of war had ceased that I received the answer. God does speak again, through prophets, and revelation once more flows down from the heavens. These and many other wonderful truths enlightened our minds and lifted our souls as the missionaries taught us. How exciting to realize we are living in the latter days, “the times of restitution of all things, which God hath spoken by the mouth of all his holy prophets since the world began.” (Acts 3:21.) How wonderful to learn of another book of scripture, the Book of Mormon, revealed through a latter-day prophet as another testament of Jesus Christ.
Question number two: What is God like? The Lord himself, in his beautiful intercessory prayer, petitioned: “And this is life eternal, that they might know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent.” (John 17:3.) What a contrast to the teachings of most churches that it is a mystery, that we cannot know and should not know what God is like.
How wonderful that the Almighty God has identified himself to us through his beloved son, Jesus Christ. He has revealed himself as our Father in Heaven, who wants us, his children, to keep in touch with him while we are away from our heavenly home. Ask a little child to close his eyes and think of God and then describe him. Will he describe a spirit? No! He will tell of a loving, kindly faced, white-robed personal being. In his epistle to the Hebrews, Paul describes Jesus, in relation to God the Father, as “being the brightness of his glory, and the express image of his person.” (Heb. 1:3.) Yes, the Holy Bible answers the question as to what God is like, but people have been led astray by nonbiblical teachings and by half-truths. To correct the traditions of error handed down through the centuries, God himself has appeared in a pillar of light, together with his beloved Son, Jesus Christ, to the Prophet Joseph Smith.
Question number three: What does your church teach about family life? The strength and moral fiber of a nation are in its families, and any church purporting to be Christian must cherish family life, both as a precious, God-given heritage and as a priceless, promised inheritance. I shall be eternally grateful that our missionary teachers expanded our vision of family significantly. They encouraged us to gather our children around us night and morning in family prayer. We were then introduced to family home evening, an institution in Latter-day Saint homes throughout the world. It is indeed a great anchor and fortress to gather together at least one evening a week to discuss applications of gospel principles, have happy, healthful activity, develop talents within the family circle, and to pray together. We often reminisce about the family home evenings we have had over the years, but there is something to be prized even more. Although previously married “until death do you part,” we have now been married in a Latter-day Saint temple for “time and eternity.” Our family can be forever!
Question number four: How can God be just if baptism is essential and many die without knowing this? I had been baptized by sprinkling as a baby, but I came to realize that baptism is for remission of my own sins, not for Adam’s or anyone else’s transgressions. I was happy to learn that little children need no baptism, for they are innocent until the age of accountability. But what of those who were accountable who had not received baptism before dying?
I remember a fine minister, visiting Salt Lake City from South Africa, who came to my office inquiring:
“What is the basis for your doctrine of baptism for the dead?”
“Is baptism essential?” I asked.
“Yes,” he responded.
“Do you believe God is just?”
“Of course,” he replied.
“Then what of those who died without baptism?” I inquired, and he indicated that he had often wondered about that. I asked whether he had overlooked Paul’s teaching: “Else what shall they do which are baptized for the dead, if the dead rise not at all? why are they then baptized for the dead?” (1 Cor. 15:29.) The minister looked at me and quietly said: “Thank you for explaining that doctrine.” I was glad he had been enlightened but sad that he and so many others had failed to see before. Yes, our Father in Heaven loves all of his children and has provided a way for every one of them to return to him.
Question number five: If God loves us so much, why doesn’t he warn us about the evils of alcohol, tobacco, and other drugs? So many of God’s children degrade themselves by becoming chemically dependent. He is concerned, and in the year 1833 he gave such a warning through the latter-day prophet, Joseph Smith. This health law is called the Word of Wisdom. Oh, that the world would heed this counsel from the Lord through a prophet, for a great part of crime, sickness, and unhappiness in the world is drug related.
Question number six: How does your church care for you and fulfill your needs in addition to your Word of Wisdom? Over the years of my membership in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I have greatly appreciated the opportunities for service, for there is no paid ministry. Every worthy male member of the Church above the age of twelve may hold an office in the priesthood. Similarly, the girls and women of the Church receive many assignments to lead and teach and serve. Each family is visited monthly by priesthood home teachers, who care for their needs, and by visiting teachers from the women’s Relief Society, whose motto is “charity never faileth.” We also enjoy all kinds of physical, spiritual and social activity, and receive instruction on such subjects as personal and family preparedness, including home production and storage.
For those who fall on hard times due to unemployment or sickness, help is given to rehabilitate and reestablish. Such assistance comes from the general membership, who fast two meals each month and give the money to relieve the poor and the needy. Yes, the Lord does watch over us and counsel us and warn us through his appointed and ordained ministers. These teachings and inspired programs are now being shared with God’s children all over the world.
Question number seven: Why do you send missionaries all over the world, when most churches concentrate on third-world countries? I must confess that question was in my mind when the young men knocked on our door and announced they were missionaries. Having studied the New Testament, I should have known the answer, for the Savior gave it so clearly as he instructed his Apostles just before his ascension. “Go ye therefore and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.” (Matt. 28:19.) The fact that the Lord gave the commission is sufficient justification for carrying the gospel to the ends of the earth. People of all nations need the truth and purpose and happiness which the fulness of the gospel brings. Everyone should be interested in truth, and so we say to people of all faiths, Keep all the truth you have and we will add to it. This is why tens of thousands of young men and women and well over a thousand retired couples are voluntarily giving eighteen months to two years, preaching the restored gospel of Jesus Christ to all the world.
Question number eight: What is your understanding of the purpose of life? In its basic form, this question might be expressed as “Why am I here?” There is a yearning deep down in all people to know the answer in order to live a purposeful life. As all loving parents do, our Heavenly Father had made a plan for us, his children, before this earth ever existed. In that period of time, which we call the premortal existence, we lived with God as his spirit children. In order for us to progress further, it was necessary for us to experience mortality by receiving a physical body provided by earthly parents. Being away from the presence of God for a while, we learn to walk by faith and develop qualities which will eventually qualify us to return to our heavenly home as resurrected beings.
The Almighty God, our Heavenly Father, has declared his great purpose and plan for his children: “For behold, this is my work and my glory—to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man.” (Moses 1:39.) Without this period of life on earth, we can achieve neither immortality nor eternal life.
Question number nine: How do you know the answers you have given are true? I know because of my testimony, which comes from deep inside me and yet is from a divine source. The wonderful missionaries brought a special gift, which I received following baptism.
“A gift, you say? What did they buy for you that has made you so happy and made you so sure that God and Jesus live and that they speak to us in these days through prophets?”
No, it was not a gift purchased, except by the atoning blood of Jesus Christ. He promised that he would send a Comforter, even the Holy Ghost, to guide and bless and comfort and testify of truth.
“You mean you have the gift of the Holy Ghost as was promised and bestowed in the early Church?”
Yes. After I had come up out of the water, hands were laid upon my head by one having authority from Jesus Christ himself, and I received the Holy Ghost to be my constant companion. The Holy Ghost testifies of truth; he bears witness of the Father and the Son.
Question number ten: How can I know for myself that what you teach is true? To all who ask this question, the promise found in the Book of Mormon is powerful, true, and of eternal significance.
“And when ye shall receive these things, I would exhort you that ye would ask God, the Eternal Father, in the name of Christ, if these things are not true; and if ye shall ask with a sincere heart, with real intent, having faith in Christ, he will manifest the truth of it unto you, by the power of the Holy Ghost.
“And by the power of the Holy Ghost ye may know the truth of all things.” (Moro. 10:4–5.)
Yes, my dear inquiring friend, we will add to the truth you have, for God speaks again through prophets. He has revealed himself to man in modern times. It is possible for families to be forever, for God has restored the sacred temple ordinances for the living and the dead. Furthermore, he has given us a health law, a welfare program, and a missionary system. He has revealed the purpose of life and has given us the Holy Ghost that we might testify to others and know for ourselves that this is the living Church of the living Christ, and that he speaks through a living prophet, even our beloved President Spencer W. Kimball. I so testify, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Illustration by Christiane Beauregard
Two years after my wife, Madeleinne, and I were baptized and confirmed, I became less active and quit going to church. Every Sunday morning, she would encourage me to get up and go with her, but I would say no.
“I’m tired. Let me sleep,” I would say. And later I would go play soccer.
Madeleinne would get up by herself and head to the chapel with our son, Lucas. In the rain or the cold, she always went.
Looking back, I realize that Satan was attacking me. He convinced me that I was fine without the Church. He told me, “You’re good, you’re calm, you’re comfortable.” But in reality, I had lost blessings, progress, and happiness. Thankfully, my wife and my Heavenly Father helped me see things clearly.
One Friday night about a year after I quit attending church, I had a dream. I dreamed that I was in a beautiful countryside, walking hand in hand with my wife and my son. We were very happy.
But then it began to grow dark. It became so dark that I couldn’t see anything. Suddenly, I noticed that I was no longer holding hands with my wife and son. I called their names, hoping they would return. I wanted them back, and I wanted the darkness to disappear.
At that moment, I experienced what it means to be truly miserable. I had lost Madeleinne and Lucas. They had moved ahead without me, leaving me alone, surrounded by darkness.
When I awoke the next morning, I realized that my Father in Heaven had given me a sign. If I didn’t return to church and take my wife and son to the temple to be sealed, I would lose them. I would not have them in the next life. I would be in a lost, miserable state.
“Tomorrow,” I told Madeleinne, “I’ll go to church.”
Every Sunday morning since then, I have gone to church with my family. I have not missed a single meeting since that dream five years ago. We were eventually sealed in the temple in September 2016.
I’m thankful for all my,blessings. I’m especially grateful for my family and for my wife’s courage, strength, and example. I’m grateful that she and my Heavenly Father never gave up on me. I am the man I am today thanks to them.

Guess what? Dad just got home, and he’s COVERED in mud! He wants to talk to me and Peter right away. I gotta go! Now that Dad’s the bishop of our ward, he’s gone a lot. I woke up extra early, and he was already out visiting people.

Turns out Dad was muddy because all the rain made the creek rise. And it flooded the Wilsons’ ranch! The only way to protect their house was to dig ditches to give the water somewhere to go. So me and Peter and Dad came to the rescue!

I missed most of the parade. But I don’t feel grumpy at all. In fact, I feel … I don’t know. Grateful? While we were digging, a lot of ward members and other people showed up to help. By the time we were done, I realized I had a LOT to be thankful for:

Having a family that’s not afraid to get muddy helping someone out

Our ward family, and all their extra shovels

A warm, dry house to come back to

So now there’s mud in my hair. And on my clothes. And look, even in my journal!

I guess my perfect Thanksgiving didn’t go exactly as planned. But seeing how happy the Wilsons were made it all worth it. The rain hasn’t stopped, but I’m feeling pretty sunny!

Sincerely,
Maisy

At 13, I was a brand-new ice-skater with high hopes. Apparently I showed some aptitude, because after I had had a couple of group lessons, the teacher suggested I take private lessons. My parents agreed, and my ice-skating dream began in earnest. This was great!
To begin with, lessons were once a week, but I practiced more often. Soon I became friends with Jacque. She was short like me but with curly red hair and smiling green eyes. She was a good skater and had taken lessons since she was three. She could do figure eights and other complicated precision skating as well as the fancy jumps, hops, and spins for freestyle. I soon realized that I was “old” to be starting competition skating, but I practiced hard to learn my freestyle routine and precision skating.
Freezing-cold fingers and toes, falls on cold ice, and the tedium of performing the same moves over and over were all part of skating, but the effort was worth it. I loved the exhilaration of jumping, twisting in the air, and successfully landing and of gliding across smooth ice on one foot with my arms extended and cold air rushing past my face.
That winter, Jacque and I enthusiastically watched the Olympics, continued to practice, and even went to a competition where I passed off preliminary figures. She and I did a lot of things together that spring and summer. I tried to share the gospel with her once, but she wasn’t interested. All her thoughts were on skating.
Then one day Jacque said something that nearly took my breath away. She didn’t notice and kept chattering while lacing up her skates, but her words struck at my heart. She had said how much fun we would have at our morning practices when school started in the fall. That was the moment when I realized that skating would conflict with early-morning seminary. That had not occurred to me. I would be a freshman that year and would be eligible for seminary, which was held every morning before school. I could continue with my dream of skating, or I could go to early-morning seminary, but I couldn’t do both. I felt sick. What was I to do?
Though it seemed much longer, in reality it took only a few seconds for me to make a choice. I had been taught correct principles my whole life, and God and Church came first.
I gave up my skating and went to early-morning seminary. Jacque and I drifted apart. But I never regretted my decision. I made more friends and gained a testimony of the scriptures. I have wonderful memories of seminary that I wouldn’t trade for any honors I might have received from ice skating.

We have three young children, ages five, three, and one. Initially our family home evenings were disasters. The children would disruptively keep the attention on themselves. My wife and I felt almost defeated.
Then one Monday night, my wife taught about Samuel the Lamanite using flannel-board pictures as visuals. We all took turns posting the pictures on the board to correspond with the characters in the account as they were mentioned. The children enjoyed the activity so much that we had our first peaceful and Spirit-filled family home evening in many months.
This lesson revolutionized our family home evenings. We began preparing more interactive lessons, and the children volunteered to do all sorts of things to make family home evening work. We also began devoting more time to planning our family home evenings. We made sure that no two home evenings had the same agenda. The variety of activities helped to keep our children’s interest.
It has taken deliberate efforts on our part to institute and sustain these elements in our family home evenings. But our children now anticipate family home evening and participate in more constructive ways.