Gospel Story Finder

Years ago there came to my office a young woman and her aging father. She had brought him several hundred miles to find a remedy for the guilt he felt. As a young man he had made a serious mistake, and in his old age the memory came back to him. He could not shake the feeling of guilt. He could not go back and undo the problem of his youth on his own, but he could start where he was and, with help, erase the guilt which had followed him all those years.
I was grateful that by teaching him principles from the Book of Mormon, it was as though a tremendous weight was lifted from his shoulders. When he and his daughter drove back home those many miles, the old man had left behind the guilt of the past transgression.

Hosea Stout, after his own journey to the Salt Lake Valley in 1848, commented in his diary:

Thus ends this long and tedious journey from the land of our enemies and I feel free and happy that I have escaped from their midst. But there is many a desolate and sandy plain to cross. Many a rugged sage bed to breakthrough. Many a hill and hollow to tug over and many a mountain and canyon to pass, and many frosty nights to endure in mid-summer.29

Stout seems to understand that his pioneering journeys were not over. He surely saw more than just physical travels ahead as he and the people sought to create a community of Saints in the western wilderness.

Recently I had the opportunity of congratulating a special young lady upon her graduation from college. Knowing she had achieved this lofty goal under extreme difficulties, I said, “Would you mind telling me in one word how you were able to achieve this great accomplishment?” While she paused momentarily, words like courage, determination, and faith flashed through my mind as I anticipated her answer. Then without hesitation she said, “Elder Ashton, the word is commitment.”
Most of us who have ever heard of the great American leader Abraham Lincoln will recall what he said of his mother: “All that I am, all that I hope to be, I owe to my Angel mother.” (In Abraham Lincoln’s Philosophy of Common Sense, ed. Edward J. Kempf, 3 parts, New York: The New York Academy of Sciences, 1965, 1:60.) But how many of us know what his mother’s last words to him were? They were “Be something, Abe.”
Not only is this wise counsel, but it also expresses the yearnings of most fathers’ and mothers’ hearts to have their children be something. Simple terms, but, oh, how powerful, “Be something.” I am so pleased she didn’t say, “Be someone.” She said, “Be something, Abe.” There is a significant difference. In the dictionary someone is defined as “conceived or thought of, but not definitely known,” while something is identified as “a person or thing of importance.”
Abraham Lincoln’s mother knew her son, his potential, and the rocky roads ahead of him; hence, she wanted him to commit himself promptly to being steadfast and immovable in living and promoting deeds of courage and faith in the lives of all mankind.
A word of hope is poured out on every generation of people by those who advocate accomplishment, an exemplary life, living up to one’s abilities, and keeping one’s commitments.
True happiness is not made in getting something. True happiness is becoming something. This can be done by being committed to lofty goals. We cannot become something without commitment.
Commitment as a word cannot stand alone. We must always ask, “Committed to what?” As all of us blend into the programs of the Church, it behooves us to set goals for ourselves in order to reap the blessings of self-improvement and excellent performance in given assignments.
“Verily I say, men should be anxiously engaged in a good cause, and do many things of their own free will, and bring to pass much righteousness;
“For the power is in them, wherein they are agents unto themselves. And inasmuch as men do good they shall in nowise lose their reward.
“But he that doeth not anything until he is commanded, and receiveth a commandment with doubtful heart, and keepeth it with slothfulness, the same is damned.” (D&C 58:27–29.)
As we search for good causes, we must consider our own needs, but also we must live in compliance with gospel teachings.
President Spencer W. Kimball at the Regional Representatives Seminar of April 3, 1975, said, “I believe in goals, but I believe that the individual should set his own. Goals should always be made to a point that will make us reach and strain. Success should not necessarily be gauged by always reaching the goal set, but by progress and attainment.”
In setting our own goals we need to examine our own needs and abilities. The direction in which we are moving is more important than where we are at the moment. Goal setting should cause us to stretch as we make our way.
Self-examination is most difficult. Surveys have shown that most people take credit for success to themselves, but blame their failures on external forces or other people. It would be well, when confronted with problems, to be able to ask the same questions the Twelve Apostles asked during the Last Supper.
“Now when the even was come, he sat down with the twelve.
“And as they did eat, he said, Verily I say unto you, that one of you shall betray me.
“And they were exceeding sorrowful, and began every one of them to say unto him, Lord, is it I?” (Matt. 26:20–22.)
When our progress seems to be at a standstill, it is well for us to ask who is at fault. Is it I? Am I sufficiently committed to righteous goals? Do I have the courage, fortitude, and wisdom to apply self-examination—or will I be inclined to try and decide which of my associates will fail?
William Clement Stone, a Chicago millionaire, in an interview said, “Only if you have drive, the push, ‘the want to’ will you succeed in any field.” He went on to say, “Regardless of your religious beliefs, read the Bible, the most inspirational book of all time. And learn to employ the power of prayer.” This man had learned the value of commitment. He had the “want to.” He had also learned to turn to God for direction, guidance, and help.
Many people are motivated by spiritual goals. The question is, “For what reasons?” Is it because of good feelings and promised rewards, or is it because of fear of not living the commandments? The best motivation is toward the positive. Total commitment to correct gospel principles brings joy, satisfaction, and the abundant life.
Dale Carnegie once said, “If you are not in the process of becoming the person you want to be, you are automatically engaged in becoming the person you don’t want to be.”
However, we must realize not all problems of life can be solved at once. A commitment to solve our daily needs and the reaching of immediate lesser goals will bring meaningful successes. Realize that God will judge you by the way you make use of all your possibilities. It is wise and proper to want to make the most of every opportunity, but don’t quit or weep because of failure or disappointments. Break down big commitments into smaller ones that you can handle. Then self-esteem will grow and commitment toward goals of greater magnitude will become possible. The journey of success is long and is dotted with a series of commitments to worthy goals. A person does not become committed to worthwhile goals just by making the declaration or decision. It must be daily progression toward established purposes.
When one is wholly committed, added strengths and talents become evident. Assistance comes from unexpected sources. Who of us has not accepted some assignment with fear and trepidation, feeling totally inadequate to take on such a responsibility? But with concern and obedience we move forward—working hard and praying often. As the task is completed, to our surprise, we have been successful. We humbly realize that our own abilities have been added upon.
Goethe wrote, “What you can do, or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it.” (Faust: Vorspiel auf dem Theater, 1:227, as translated by John Anster, Faustus, A Dramatic Mystery: Prelude at the Theatre, 1:303, 1835.) We would add that commitment has genius, power, and magic in it.
The scriptures say it this way: “For I know that the Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save he shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the thing which he commandeth them.” (1 Ne. 3:7.)
A truly committed person does not falter in the face of adversity. Until one is committed, there is a chance to hesitate, to go off in another direction, or to be ineffective. Members within our ranks who are committed to living the gospel of Jesus Christ will not be affected by the rationale of hecklers.
Our enemies are becoming more hostile with each passing week. They seem intent on not only deceiving the uncommitted among us but on leading astray even the elect. They criticize our leaders. They scoff at what we consider to be sacred. They mock ordinances and covenants we know to be true and holy. They delight in discovering and sharing human flaws and frailties among our leaders past and present rather than acknowledging and benefiting from the truths they taught. They go to the tree, and instead of enjoying the fruit thereof, they point out the scars discovered on the tree trunk.
Do not be deceived. God will not be mocked. (See Gal. 6:7.) We have no intention of quarreling or demanding equal time to refute. We invite the dissenters as well as all others to open their eyes and see the beauties and thrills available to those who walk in His path looking for the good.
For example, it is a sad day in the life of any individual or group when by present training, attitude, and design, they would go to a football game and judge the participants by the dirt and grime on their uniforms rather than by how many tackles were made or yards gained.
By the same token, where is the pleasure for these same people who, attending a big league baseball game, will not cheer or clap for the home run hitter who drives in the winning runs but would rather dwell upon the fact that when the star, according to their research, was in grade school he was kept after school for misconduct? Woe unto those who feast on the dirt and the distasteful instead of the fruits.
Contrast those attitudes with that demonstrated by an elderly widow acquaintance of ours who travels to the temple every morning, spends the day attending sessions, and returns home by bus tired and worn just because “I love everyone, even those I cannot see.” Her attendance record? “I go every day it is open. Sometimes when I don’t feel too strong it is difficult, but I make it somehow.” The word is commitment.

“Miss Flores, what this world needs is a way of making people happier and healthier. Families just aren’t what they used to be.”
With that, Governor Eulogio Rodriguez of the Province of Rizal, the Philippines, turned to his desk and his thoughts. He was quite surprised when, a few minutes later, there was a knock at his door and in came two young LDS missionaries. He was even more surprised when they explained a program that would increase the efficiency of his staff by making their families happier and healthier than ever before.
The elders told him about Health Awareness ’76, a health fair presented by the Church’s International Health Team in the Philippines Manila Mission. The governor was so excited with the idea that he called a staff meeting to present a preview of the fair, and in fact, directed all of his employees and their families to attend.
Health Awareness ’76, just an idea in the minds of 11 young health services missionaries in its beginning, exploded into one of the most dynamic ways of introducing the gospel of Jesus Christ ever seen in the Philippines. A vast amount of practical health information on nutrition, disease prevention, and child care was assembled in unique, eye-catching ways that stimulated the curiosity of both the professional and the layman. It was presented in Manila and in several other cities throughout the Philippines.
The enthusiastic response of the various government organizations and community leaders was overwhelming. Over 20 agencies contributed information and personnel for the fair. National and private corporations became so interested in the project that many of them donated equipment and professional assistance in demonstrations. Displays, films, lectures, workshops, and booths were set up to educate the people of the Philippines about hygiene, nutrition, and other important items of health care awareness.
A display called Careless Charley taught the value of personal cleanliness and proper food preparation and sanitation as a preventative measure against parasites. Nearly 92 percent of the children in the Philippines suffer from some type of parasite; most are preventable with good hygiene.
The mobile X-ray van of the Philippines Tuberculosis Society provided free chest X-rays and medical consultation. The Heart Center for Asia demonstrated mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, and even a heart monitor was displayed.
Doctors James O. Mason and Isaac Ferguson flew from Salt Lake City to attend the health fair. In his opening statement, Dr. Mason, director of Church Welfare Services, pointed out that “the Church not only helps people prepare for eternal life, but it also helps them to be strong, healthy, and happy on earth.”
Public awareness of the Church’s concern for the health of its members increased when GTV-4, a national television station, devoted an entire 30-minute show called “Health Talk” to the Health Fair. During the interview, Miss Yvonne Nite, the hostess ot the show, asked Dr. Mason: “We’ve heard about your church’s beliefs regarding the use of alcohol, tobacco, and coffee. What are the medical reasons behind these beliefs?”
Dr. Mason’s impressive response was: “The Church believes in divine revelation from a Heavenly Father who loves his children. All revelation is given to us through a living prophet. It is interesting to note that 150 years ago, the Lord revealed to a prophet that alcohol, tobacco, coffee, and tea are harmful to our bodies. The scientists and doctors of today are only now discovering that these substances are dangerous.”
Aided by stupendous advertising and hundreds of hours of work by determined, excited proselyting missionaries, the total number who attended the fair at the Araneta Coliseum in Manila exceeded 15,000 in the first three days.
After only one week, the Philippines Manila Mission was flooded with referrals. In fact, one of the mission assistants exclaimed, “I just can’t believe it, over 12,000 referral cards after only two areas. What will the tour of the provinces bring?”
The health fair has prompted enthusiastic action by Church members in an effort to improve their standards of health. Members who discovered that their children were undernourished received instruction and counseling on nutrition from local government agencies as well as their Relief Society teachers. With the cooperation of the local health departments, thousands were immunized against cholera, typhoid, small pox, tuberculosis, and polio. Several active cases of tuberculosis and other respiratory ailments were discovered, and proper rehabilitative measures are being taken.
Thousands of garden seeds were sold to encourage home gardeners, and local wards and branches were planning their own welfare projects. Tiny seedlings began springing up in tin cans and flower pots all over Manila. Garden plots were cultivated where space was available, and families will save hundreds of pesos in food costs as they harvest their own tomatoes, lettuce, squash, and beans.
Thousands of seeds have been planted, but not only those that yield tomatoes, squash, or other vegetables. The Philippines Manila Mission and the Church will yet reap a bountiful harvest in terms of public appreciation, cooperation, and support, in increased member activity and productivity, and in converts who first learned that the Church existed when they attended Health Awareness ’76, the health affair of the year.

While the pioneers were crossing the plains, a small six-year-old boy wandered away from his handcart company during a storm and was lost. When the storm subsided, Robert and Ann Parker realized their boy was missing and began searching. For two days, an organized search was unsuccessful. The decision was taken that the company must move on because of the approaching winter.
A pioneer journal records:
“Ann Parker pinned a bright [red] shawl about the thin shoulders of her husband and sent him back alone on the trail to search again for their child. If he found him dead he was to wrap him in the shawl; if alive, the shawl would be a flag to signal her. Ann and her children took up their load and struggled on with the company, while Robert retraced the miles of … trail, calling, and searching and praying for his helpless little son.”
One suspects that he did not just casually look behind a few trees or leisurely walk along the trail, but that he vigorously investigated every thicket, every clump of trees and gully or wash.
“At last he reached a … trading station where he learned that his child had been found and cared for by a woodsman and his wife. [The boy] had been ill from exposure and fright. [But] God had heard the prayers of his people.
“Out on the trail each night Ann and her children kept watch and, when, on the third night the rays of the setting sun caught the glimmer of a bright red shawl [above her husband’s head], the brave little mother sank in a pitiful heap in the sand. … [She] slept for the first time in six … days.”*

Illustrations by Maryn Roos
Their parents have been acting strange, but Matt and Mandy haven’t been able to find out what’s going on. Now, Mom and Dad have called them into the kitchen for a family meeting …
We know you’ve been wondering what’s going on.
We’re sorry we couldn’t talk to you about this sooner. But we didn’t want to worry you …
But we ARE worried!
I’m sorry, but we had to wait until everything was settled. Now it is, and we can give you the exciting news.
How would you like to move into a new house?
What? Would we have room in the backyard for a horse?
Would we have a bigger driveway to play basketball in?
It would be in another city.
HUH?
We know this is a big shock. That’s why we didn’t tell you until we were sure about everything.
Dad’s company is closing its office in our town. They want to transfer him to another town. That way he can keep his job, which is a great blessing.
What about my friends? How will I ever find new ones?
I’ll have to go to a new school. Everything will be so different!

Several months ago, Sister Sitati and I were in the home of a member family. The topic of ministering, just announced by President Russell M. Nelson, came up. The father wondered in what ways ministering would be the same or different from home teaching.
As the discussion progressed, Sister Sitati suggested that we do a mock ministering visit and learn from it. The suggestion was accepted, and so Sister Sitati and I became a ministering companionship and the family of six—comprising (not their real names) father Jack, mother Cindy, twenty-year-old son Amos, sixteen-year-old daughter Winnie, thirteen-year-old son Paul, and nine-year-old daughter Charity—became our assigned family for the purpose of the mock ministering visit.
The conversation went something like this:
Elder Sitati: Jack, Cindy, and children, Sister Sitati and I are thrilled to be assigned as your ministering brother and sister. Thank you everyone for making the time to meet with us in your home today.
Sister Sitati: After praying about it, we felt that on this first ministering visit, we want to explore together with you where you feel you currently stand temporally and spiritually as a family and individually and where you want to be.
Cindy: I think temporally, the Lord has blessed us, and we are very grateful. Quite frankly, we are all in different places in our spiritual progress, and so each one of us will likely have a different answer to where they are.
Elder Sitati: Let us begin with family prayer. How do you feel about how that is going?
Jack: Our schedules are crazy. For most of the week, because of the different activities in which we are involved, some of us are coming—while others are going—and it is difficult to find time to be together for family prayer.
Sister Sitati: How do you feel about continuing that way?
Jack: Clearly, we can do better. We want to do better. Today for example, we were able to coordinate our schedules so we could all be here at this time for your visit. So, we will try and coordinate better, to be together more often.
Elder Sitati: How can we help you to be better coordinated as a family?
Cindy: I would love it if Sister Sitati could call from time to time and just ask how we are doing with praying together.
Sister Sitati: What about reading the Book of Mormon daily?
Cindy: I think the same approach we use for prayer will work.
Eelder Sitati: Are there any other aspects of your discipleship that you wish to improve as a family?
Jack: Cindy is quite diligent with temple attendance, and the girls often go with her to do proxy baptisms. I have been a bit careless and have been without a current temple recommend for the last few months.
Elder Sitati: How can we help?
Jack: Your question is enough! I will repent and go and see the bishop next week.
Sister Sitati: What if we could plan to go to the temple together with your family?
Winnie: I would love that!
Cindy: Jack, would you like us to look at some possible dates?
Jack: Yes, of course. We can coordinate that over the phone. But the first week of next month looks like a good possibility. I will have renewed my temple recommend by then.
Elder Sitati: Amos, you have been quiet. How are things going with you?
Amos: Well, I don’t know. I don’t seem to feel much of anything these days.
Sister Sitati: What are the things that capture your interest, in which you find that you are usually fully engaged?
Amos: I like biking, especially going up and down mountain trails.
Elder Sitati: One of our sons likes mountain biking as a hobby. He is a member of a national internet biking community that you may be interested in. We would be happy to connect you with him.
Sister Sitati: Amos, the bishop mentioned that you have been thinking about going on mission lately.
Amos: Yes, but I am not sure. I don’t want to go just because of the bishop or my parents!
Sister Sitati: You don’t have to. Have you considered the covenant you made with the Lord when you received the priesthood? What did you promise you would do for the blessings the Lord offers you as a priesthood holder?
Amos: To serve Him.
Elder Sitati: And from Moroni 7:13 and 7:17, you can learn why you are not sure about serving, and then do something about it. Would you like to read it and let me know what you find out?
Amos: Sure. I can text you?
Elder Sitati: Yes, sure. Here is my cell phone number.
Sister Sitati: What about you Winnie, Paul, and Charity? Are you working on any personal spiritual goals?
Winnie: I am working on some goals in Personal Progress. Mum is helping me.
Sister Sitati: Excellent! (Looking at Paul.)
Paul: Boys don’t do Personal Progress!
Elder Sitati: You are right Paul. They do something else.
Paul: Last year, one of the teachers talked about Duty to God. When I looked at the book, the stuff in there was boring!
Elder Sitati: Most things are boring until we take an interest and really try them out. Then the Holy Ghost can help us. (Looking at Jack) I am sure your dad can help you.
Jack: Of course. I should have done that earlier, but my priorities were kind of upside down.
Charity: In Primary, we are memorizing the Articles of Faith. I can say them without reading up to number seven!
Sister Sitati: Excellent! (Gets up and hugs Charity.)
Elder Sitati: Well, that is the end of our short mock ministering home visit. What do you think? You all did so well!
A spirited discussion followed on the merits of the ministering approach versus message-based home teaching.
Each family or person to whom we minister is unique and has a specific set of needs. Our role as ministers is to—under influence of the Spirit—discover those needs, offer some solutions, and commit, as needed, to new behaviors. The mock visit above is but one way in which ministers can learn our duties and fulfill the sacred responsibilities with which we have been entrusted.
Postscript: As I have reflected back on that true experience from time to time since arriving in the Africa South East Area, I have felt that our conversation with Jack, Cindy, and the family could have been greatly enriched if we had used a resource like the pocket size 2019 Area Plan card that has been provided to every member.

Percy “Chappy” Winstanley, who presided over the first Durban stake created in 1981 and came up from Johannesburg to attend the Durban dedication, recalled Church members putting their lives on the line regularly—sometimes in helping with routine meetings and activities.
“We had a high councilor down in the Eastern Cape who would have to run the gauntlet of rioters throwing rocks at his car to go open the meetinghouse in the morning,” he said. “Then he would have to go back [to lock the building], and here came the rocks again.”

During the turbulent hours prior to his departure for Carthage Jail, the Prophet Joseph Smith and his brother, Hyrum, alighted into a boat and were about to cross the Mississippi River to deflect the attention of the marauders who were trying to murder him. His intention, of course, was to remove himself so that the mobs would leave the Saints in peace. However, as they were crossing the river, Joseph felt inspired to return back to Nauvoo.

Probably that decision cost him his life. Yet his death has brought about a zeal by the members of the Church and a determination to continue on in spite of even insurmountable odds. His martyrdom is a witness that Joseph Smith is the prophet of the restoration, and that he sealed his testimony with his own blood.

“I want you to knock all the cement off these steel posts,” the boss said as he handed me the sledgehammer and stood back to watch me begin. Anxious to impress him with my eagerness for the task, I planted my feet in a wide stance, raised the sledgehammer high above my head, and brought it down hard on the barrel-sized keg of cement caked on the first leg of the extracted guardrail.
Six … seven … eight solid follow-up strokes to the same spot, but all I could feel was the stunning reverberation up the handle of the sledgehammer. Not a single chip of the hard cement seemed to yield under the blows. After resting the hammerhead on the ground for a moment and rubbing my right shoulder, again I raised the hammer high above my head and repeated the effort, but with no better result.
I felt a little embarrassed as the boss watched a minute longer. Then, starting to walk toward the tool shop, he said, “I’ll get you something that may help.”
As I had arrived for work that morning wearing ankle-high work shoes, with cowhide gloves dangling from the back pocket of my denims, I had wondered, as I had on the two previous mornings, if this would be my last day on the job. I hoped not. With only three months before I would enter the mission home, I needed every penny I could earn to help cover my mission expenses, for the first few months at least.
Dad said no sacrifice by the family would be too great for the privilege of supporting me in the mission field, and he meant it. He knew what that kind of sacrifice was. I remember how the family had spread margarine on the bread and then scraped most of it off again while my older brother Ron was in the mission field. I also sensed dad’s special gratitude when occasionally I was able to spare a few dollars of the earnings from my part-time job to add to what was sent to Ron.
Yes, I knew it would mean sacrifice, gladly offered. I also knew I had to do all I could.
I took a firmer grasp on the handle, holding it a little lower this time to get a better weight advantage from the heavy steel head. Several more strokes, and now I could feel myself becoming angry. How could I strike any harder? Why didn’t the cement break?
“I hope he doesn’t get back before I’ve shown some kind of progress,” I said to myself, glancing toward the tool shop.
When I had told the boss on Monday morning that I had quit school to work for a few months so I could go on a mission, I had hoped he would be kind of proud of me. Instead he had said, “Why do you want to waste your time like that?” Ever since then he had seemed bent on going out of his way to make snide comments about the Church and other crude remarks that, I suspected, were designed to shock me. But he was the boss and the one who would let me stay or let me go.
I had been much more comfortable last week when I first got this job and was helping Bert Godfrey lay a brick wall to replace an old wooden one that had burned down. How could I help but like that leather-faced but kindhearted man who had served three missions, two of them building missions.
The company had hired me for ten days, mostly to help build that wall. But Bert and I had worked so well together that we had finished it in a week. He didn’t seem to mind that I was a bit clumsy and lacked experience. He knew I was trying and he knew why. He just kept talking to me about serving the Lord.
Bert hadn’t told me that the real boss was on vacation, and it had come as a surprise when I showed up for work the next Monday morning. So far, though, my strategy seemed to be working. Although I was earning more than I had ever earned before, I figured that if I worked so hard that I was worth still more than they were paying me, maybe the boss would feel he just couldn’t afford to let me go.
I looked again at the long I-beam rail with 13 steel legs extending from it like a giant comb with most of its teeth missing. It had long ago served as a bumper guard, preventing cars in the parking lot from hitting the adjacent building. It had been installed by digging 13 large holes in the ground in a straight line, spaced at eight-foot intervals. A steel post was cemented into each hole, and the connecting bumper rail welded to each post. Recently the entire rail had been removed by having two large Hysters extract the whole thing in one piece, and it was lying in the driveway with each post encased in a barrel-sized cement block.
As I heard boots scuff the loose gravel on the asphalt pavement leading from the tool shop, I let loose a wild flurry of blows. I was glad that a few beads of sweat had formed on my forehead. “Here, try this,” the boss said as he handed me a heavier sledgehammer. That wasn’t quite the kind of help I had in mind.
I smiled as I traded him the smaller hammer, but I could tell that he sensed it wasn’t a completely honest smile. He watched me for a few minutes more, and then without further comment, turned away to supervise the crew working on the remodeling project in the steel fabrication plant.
“The only difference between the hammers is that this one is heavier and harder to lift,” I grumbled silently as the steel head collided with the stonehard cement. Finally one small chunk broke off. After several more strokes my arms started to ache, but the cement still remained intact.
At this rate I knew it would take me three days to complete the job. I also knew that if I didn’t show substantial progress by noon, I’d be out of a job and back standing in the labor lines at the Employment Security Office taking any kind of work available. Three days of that had made me especially anxious to keep this job.
Besides, it was 1954, and thousands of striking workers with families to feed were looking for short-term, full-time employment. How was a 20-year-old youth going to compete with them for the few jobs available?
It took only a few more hard but unsuccessful strokes to persuade me that I had reached my limit and that it was time for me to treat the problem as one needing more strength and wisdom than I possessed.
Resting the heavy hammer on the ground and trying to compose my anger and frustration, I felt the need and desire to discuss the problem with the Lord. Without either kneeling or closing my eyes, I started praying aloud to the Lord and explaining the task I faced. In a conversational but sincere way I reminded him that I wasn’t asking for the money so I could buy a yellow convertible. He had called me on a mission, and I knew he wanted me to go. This job had already been an answer to my prayers, but I needed to keep it. I didn’t expect him to send a host of angels from heaven with sledgehammers, but I knew he could help me.
Never in my life has a prayer been answered more immediately or clearly. Suddenly my mind was filled with a thought so lucid and strong that my heart started pounding. It was a simple solution, as I later considered it. To brighter or more experienced minds it might have occurred earlier, but to me it came as a direct answer to my prayer.
The compelling instruction said to me, “Instead of striking the cement, strike the steel.”
Still not fathoming exactly why, I raised the hammer and brought it crashing down five or six times on the steel post right next to the cement. As a large section of the cement cracked into big chunks and fell off, I realized that the blows to the steel had started a series of strong vibrations that were transmitted all along the steel shaft.
I quickly forgot the weight of the hammer. With new energy I struck the steel again and again, then moved on to the next post, amazed at the magnification of my efforts as the steel vibrated and the cement cracked.
Less than two hours later I had removed the cement from all 13 posts and stacked the large chunks in a pile. With the sledgehammer on my shoulder and a prayer of gratitude in my heart, I went to find the boss.
“I’ll need some help moving the railing out of the driveway,” I said, trying to conceal the excitement I felt inside. Thinking I was giving up on the project, he motioned me to follow him to the parking lot.
As we rounded the corner of the building and he saw the railing and the pile of cement, he stopped quite suddenly. His eyes blinked and opened wide. His chin started to drop a bit. For a full minute he stood silently, looking first at the railing, then at the cement. After a moment more he turned, motioned me to follow him again, and said, “Come on, I’ll give you another job.”
Nothing more was said about the incident, but the following morning when I arrived for work, he simply said, “Lloyd, you’re welcome to stay on as long as you like.”
I worked there for nearly three months before entering the mission home. He then let me come back to work again for another ten days until I departed with my group for the mission field. Never after that memorable morning did he, in my presence, make a disparaging remark about the Church or my plans to serve a mission.
Many times since that day the Lord has helped me strike the steel instead of the cement in solving other problems. But as I departed for the mission field in late November 1954, I knew that I was called of the Lord. I knew that he was listening to my prayers. And I knew for myself that he would give no commandment save he would prepare a way for it to be accomplished.

For the world premiere showing of The Great American Cowboy, our investors invited about a thousand people to attend. There were only a few members of the Church involved. The obvious question came up, “What will we serve the press? We must have a bar set up for the press in the lobby of the theater to get them excited to write some good stuff. We have got to serve cocktails at this premiere.” I said, “There will be no cocktails at any premiere I have any control over.” And since I had control over it, I said, “No way!”

“Oh now, Kieth, you’ve got to be reasonable. There will be hundreds of people there, and they don’t care whether you’re a Mormon or not.” I said, “I care. There will be no liquor. I mean zero liquor in that entire theater the night of my premiere.”

I’d already made that decision. There was no discussion. The decision had been made years before.

The night of the premiere rolled around; the people came, and they went in. My wife and I went in long enough to realize that people weren’t going to get up and leave, and we were delighted and thrilled. We went out into the lobby to be alone and reflect. As we sat down in the lobby, guess who walked in the door? Elder Marion D. Hanks! I didn’t know where he came from; I didn’t even know he’d been invited. But Marion D. Hanks walked in. If we’d had a bar set up with cocktail glasses all over the place when Marion D. Hanks walked in, it would have been like hitting the rocks after jumping off the cliff.

So don’t compromise! Make your decisions now and only make them once!

While there, I had the opportunity to perform ordinances on behalf of my uncle who had died of cancer. When I was being baptized for him, I thought about the blessings he would receive through this temple ordinance. I was so happy, and I recognized what the temple president told me when I had come to the temple for the first time and had been a little bit confused. He told me, “Brother, you may not understand all of what you are doing right now, but a day will come when you will feel you have done great things here.”
I got my answer. It has taken me four years to understand by visiting the temple for the second time.

Months ago, I was watching our grandchildren while their parents and my wife were preparing dinner. I turned on a “how to” ski video. There in the middle of the living room, a line of grandchildren and I practiced leaning, making pizzas with our imaginary skis, and planting our imaginary poles. When our grandchildren left the warm comfort of our living room and headed out onto the slopes, it was time for them to apply what we had practiced. They felt the cold biting their noses and the wind rushing in their faces as they raced down a glistening hill. They experienced planting their poles in the stiff, crunchy snow. They felt the snow resisting their skis as they “pizza-ed” their way down the mountain. They now know the exhilaration of gliding effortlessly across the slopes and what it feels like to fall and have their momentum suddenly checked. They had to put their determination and resilience to the test by facing the choice to get up again and again, as they tried to master this new skill. At the end of a day on the cold, snowy slopes, they felt the contrast of returning to their warm homes. Now they had experience and could decide if they enjoyed following the laws associated with skiing down a snow-covered mountain.

All too well do I know how difficult it is being in a home where everyone is going in different directions at once. I also remember running from that environment. All of that changed when our family started to separate. The oldest went to college, and even though she was only an hour away, we learned how much she meant to us. We started to communicate with each other. We started to say, “I love you.” With those simple realizations and with a little effort, we ended up with a quiet, relaxing home that my friends loved to come to.
Elder Christiansen, 20Missouri Independence Mission

It was Gerald Brown who gave the challenge to his son to chop what seemed like way too much wood on that clear fall morning in Cardston, Alberta, Canada. Young Vic Brown would rather have been out on the Alberta prairies, running his horse through the crisp morning air, but he respected his father. He knew that he had been asked to chop more wood than a young man of his age should really be capable of chopping. But it was that special kind of father-to-son challenge—and challenge was something that Victor Lee Brown liked, something he faced head on. The wood was needed for cooking and heating in the Brown family home, and Vic knew that cutting the wood was not just a challenge, but one of those necessities for which he could share the burden of responsibility. With the smooth handle of the axe in his young hands, he began to chop. As he swung the axe, Vic could feel the warmth build inside as he worked. The thunk of the axe and the sweet smell of the newly split logs were partial payment, but the best came nearly five hours later as he split the last log and stacked it away. It was a warm and weary feeling, knowing that his task was well done. The appreciation from his father was just as warm and sincere, and it was tinged with just a bit of surprise because his young son had been able to accomplish a man-size task.
Victor L. Brown was serving as first counselor in his deacons quorum presidency at the time of the wood chopping incident, and he was a young man who accepted responsibility and loved the challenge of an unfinished task. The future would prove to hold many great challenges for the young deacon from Cardston.

It seemed just like any other day to Mura as she turned over in bed and found her two sisters missing. Yet, there was a certain feeling of excitement in the air that caused everyone in the house to hurry.
Why would anyone want to rush around on such a beautiful Saturday? Mura wondered, trying to fight for those last few winks of sleep.
The warm morning breeze and crisp sunlight, along with the sound of busy people in the other room, told Mura it was time to get up.
Finally she sat up in bed and was stretching toward the ceiling when her mother came into the room. “So, you finally decided to wake up. Don’t you know we have a big day ahead of us, sleepy bones?”
Mother helped Mura put on her Sunday dress and they went into the kitchen where the rest of the family had already started eating. Porridge and Maori bread. Mmmmm! thought Mura as she quickly joined her family at the table for her favorite breakfast.
After their meal, father made a last-minute inspection of Mura’s brothers and sisters. Soon the whole family was on its way to the pa (native Maori village) where there is usually a meetinghouse, an eating house, and a sleeping house for overnight visitors.
As Mura walked along holding her mother’s hand, she looked around at the crowd. She had never seen this many people in their small village before, and they were all going to the marae (courtyard). She saw her very best friend Rangi, her cousins all the way from Tauranga, and even some pakehas (white people) she had never seen. It was very unusual for white people to attend such a meeting.
Soon Mura’s family arrived to find the marae already crowded with happy, excited people of all ages. There were far too many of them to fit into the meetinghouse, so chairs were set up on the porch of the beautifully carved building for those who were to speak at the huitau (conference). Many had brought blankets and chairs so that they could sit down when the meeting began.
Things seemed confusing to Mura as she looked around at the hundreds of moving legs, but then a smile came across her face as she spotted Rangi again through the crowd. The two met halfway and Rangi’s parents followed the pair back to Mura’s family.
The grownups stood and talked about grown-up things while Mura and Rangi played tag.
A whisper soon started rustling through the crowd. “Tumuki (president), the great Tumuki is coming, Tumuki Kauri. …” The crowd became very still as one of the elders of the tribe began chanting a welcome and Mura’s brother dressed in a traditional costume began hopping, gliding, and twirling his taiaha (spear) above his head. Slowly he approached the gate where several pakeha strangers stood.
Placing a fern branch on the ground, Mura’s brother backed away and a very distinguished-looking man picked it up to show that they were friends. The whole congregation began singing as the group walked toward the front of the meetinghouse.
After the opening song and prayer, the chief of Mura’s tribe began to speak. As he spoke, her mind began to drift to all the things she and Rangi could be doing instead of sitting in the hot sun listening to stuffy preachers, but her attention was drawn back to the speaker when she heard him say, “And now we will hear from Tumuki Matiu Kauri (President Matthew Cowley).”
With that the crowd was completely still. Not a whisper or breath could be heard from the hundreds of people as the stately man, who had picked up the fern leaf earlier, rose and began to speak in perfect Maori. If Mura had closed her eyes, she would have thought it was her grandfather speaking. Each word seemed to sink deeply into her heart as Tumuki Kauri spoke of love and peace and of Jesus’ life on earth.
For the first time in Mura’s life she knew what it was like to hear a man of God. He spoke for an hour and a half without losing one of his eager listeners.
When the meeting was over, Mura told her mother that she wanted to see President Cowley up close. Before her mother had a chance to reply, Mura disappeared through the crowd.
After working her way through the jungle of legs, Mura made it to the meetinghouse. There she saw him. As the people who were waiting to greet the great Tumuki approached, he would shake their hands, press noses in a Maori hongi, and say a few words in Maori to them. He called many of them by name.
Mura hesitated to approach the president; besides, the line was very long, so she stood back and watched him shaking hands. Then, suddenly, he left the line of people waiting to see him and started walking directly toward Mura.
With a big smile, he bent down and picked up the surprised girl. “What is your name?” he asked.
“Mura Tarawa,” she said shyly.
“Oh yes, Brother Tarawa’s little girl. I hear you are the prettiest little girl in town.”
Mura smiled and flung her arms around President Cowley’s neck. And as she hugged him, Mura felt more sure than ever that this man who had come to visit her people was truly an apostle of the Lord.

Elder Backman remembers with joy an experience he had while president of the Northwestern States Mission. “I invited my dad and mother to come up to visit us, and we took them to a district conference in the Bend District of Oregon. I asked my parents to sit beside us on the stand during the general session on Sunday morning. I asked dad to stand up and bear his testimony. He stood up there at the pulpit with tears in his eyes and said, ‘I know now to a greater degree how our Father in Heaven must have felt when he said, ‘This is my Beloved Son in whom I am well pleased.’ I just sat there and cried like a baby.”

But just because you should will always mean that you can with the Lord’s help.
I know that this principle is true. Believe it or not, I was once young, trim and fit like you. Also like yourselves, my future was an open slate. As a young lawyer in Chicago, the opportunities were grand and expansive. When my wife converted to the gospel, however, it changed our lives. As we learned to make right choices, we also learned that just because we could do things didn’t mean we should. By following principles we learned in the gospel and by listening to the Spirit, I have seen the many great blessings and tender mercies we have received from the Lord. We ended up moving from the big town of Chicago with the big salaries and big opportunities to return home to be closer to our families. I was also led to leave the practice of law after a quarter of century to teach 9th graders math at Waianae High. And just a few months ago, I was blessed with the opportunity to work with CES and the Seminaries and Institutes of Religion department. In the eyes of the world, our life may not glamorous, I am not be powerful, we are not wealthy, but our joy could not be fuller in our family, friends and what we have been blessed with.

I thought back on another little child, under different circumstances, who had the Christmas spirit. As a very young elder, I went to the old Primary Children’s Hospital on North Temple Street to provide blessings for the sick children. As we entered the door, we noted the Christmas tree with its bright and friendly lights. We saw carefully wrapped packages beneath its outstretched limbs. Then we went through the corridors where lay tiny boys and girls—some with a cast upon an arm, some with a cast upon a leg, others with ailments that perhaps could not be cured so ­readily—each one with a smile upon his face.
I walked toward the bedside of one little boy, and he said, “What is your name?”
I told him.
He said, “Will you give me a blessing?”
The blessing was provided, and as we turned to leave his bedside, he said, “Thank you.”
We walked a few steps, and then I heard his little call: “Brother Monson.”
I turned.
He said, “Merry Christmas to you.” And a great smile flashed across his countenance.
That boy had the Christmas spirit, as did the little girl in downtown Salt Lake City.

When I discovered that my beloved eternal companion had become ensnared by pornography, I experienced the intense pain a wife in such a situation suffers. It is a deep sense of soul sickness, betrayal, and spiritual agony. It feels like the very roots of a precious eternal marriage have been yanked out of the safety and protection of gospel ground and, exposed to all the elements, begin to wilt and die. There is a sense of panic. The safety and peace of the marriage relationship evaporate. Trust, respect, honor, love, priesthood—all are deeply injured.
For some months I had known something was not right. My husband and I had always been close, and our marriage had been very happy. But now there was an emotional distance, a barrier of some kind between us.
My husband loved the gospel and had been strong and faithful, but now he seemed distant from the Lord. He seemed to have lost his desire to participate in the sacrament and to attend the temple. I rarely saw him on his knees in personal prayer, and his heart did not seem to be in our family prayers and scripture study. There was a darkness about him, and he seemed deeply unhappy, even angry inside.
I was so frightened—for him and for us—because I suspected Internet pornography. He had been spending a lot of time on the Internet alone in his office, especially late at night, and he kept his computer password-protected. I tried to talk to him about this, though I hardly knew how to go about it. He fiercely denied having a problem, attributing his behavior to work-related stress.
On occasion I would read a quote by the Brethren about the evils of pornography, and my husband would agree heartily with what was said, even making perceptive comments. And he assured me that he loved me. Yet I could not shake the feeling that there was a serious problem. Although I prayed for him and kept his name on the temple prayer roll, I could feel my precious husband slipping from the safety of the gospel.
Finally, believing the scriptures that say “ask, and ye shall receive” (see, for example, John 16:24; 3 Nephi 27:29), I went to Heavenly Father, pleading to know what was wrong. This was not easy for me, for if the problem was what I suspected, I did not know how I would deal with it. How I hoped he was not involved in pornography! But I knew that whatever the problem was, Heavenly Father would help my husband and me. I asked for humility and courage to change whatever I needed to change in myself. I told Heavenly Father how much I loved my husband and how I wanted our marriage to be joyful and eternal. I made a commitment to attend the temple weekly, fasting for my husband.
Within only a few weeks, my husband, sick with the flu, went to bed, leaving his computer on. As I started to shut it down, I suddenly felt I should check it. There was the pornography.
In the midst of the flood of feelings that nearly overwhelmed me, I knew my discovery was an answer to my prayers. I don’t know how long I was on my knees or how long my cheeks were wet with tears, but as I poured out my heart to Heavenly Father, the comfort made possible by the Atonement of our Savior began to fill my soul. My pain and fear were lifted. Spiritual insights flowed into my mind and heart. I saw that my husband and I and our eternal marriage were precious to Heavenly Father, and I knew that He would help us.
Us. I understood with great clarity that this was not my husband’s problem alone. I could not, must not, passively stand by and hope he would conquer the problem by himself. I needed to be an active participant in this battle. It would not be easy, but if I continued to be faithful and obedient, trusting in the Lord, I would not fight alone.
As I prayed I saw my husband in a different light, a brighter light. I already knew he had overcome much adversity in his life, and now I saw that he was willing to fight for his eternal life and our eternal marriage. I saw his underlying love and faith in Heavenly Father and the Savior and his love for me, but I also saw that love, faith, and trust were not always easy for him to develop.
I saw that I should help him develop trust in Heavenly Father and the Savior. Such trust would give him the strength to face this addiction head on by going to Heavenly Father in humble prayer to plead for forgiveness, strength, and release from the demon that plagued him.
Empowered by the Lord, I began to take steps. I discontinued our Internet service, feeling strongly impressed that if my husband was to heal, he needed to get away from the temptation. Others in this situation may receive a different answer, but for us, discontinuing our Internet service for a time was a great blessing. Once my husband was away from the temptation for a few days, he acknowledged how much this had helped him. He told me he had tried to overcome this sin alone and thought he was strong enough. Then, as he failed, he felt ashamed and tried to hide his sin from me and from God. But now he was feeling hope! We cried together. We prayed together.
We asked for a priesthood blessing from a dear friend, the man who had baptized my husband years before. In the blessing my husband was assured several times that the Lord loved him. He was counseled to trust and confide in me, and he was blessed with the ability to know right from wrong—a great help, as pornography use warps a person’s moral judgment.
This blessing strengthened both of us. I continued my own increased personal spiritual efforts: frequent fasting, much prayer, temple attendance, and immersion in the scriptures, especially the Book of Mormon. Our scripture study and prayers together began to be sweet again.
Knowing that I needed to acquire knowledge by my own efforts as well as through prayer, I read everything I could find from General Authorities regarding pornography, and I also read material written by Latter-day Saint professionals. My husband and I counseled with our priesthood leaders, who encouraged our efforts and expressed their faith that we would win this battle.
I felt impressed to talk frankly with my husband. I never underplayed or made any excuses for his sin. I talked with him about this subject only according to what came to me in prayer and only when the time felt right. I received so much guidance and inspiration!
If my hurt resurfaced—and it did on occasion, especially at first—I took it to Heavenly Father in prayer. I made extra efforts to show my husband that my love for him was deep. He needed to know we were a team and that together we would fight the enemy. His wife, his best friend, would stand by him. What a sweet experience it was for me to see his repentance process bringing light back into his life!
I loved my husband for the strong, good man I knew he was. From my reading I knew that pornography use robs a person of feelings of self-worth, so I did all I could to help him rebuild faith in himself. I also learned to acknowledge my failures and weaknesses to my husband more readily than I had before, and I asked for his advice and counsel more often. I was humbled and grateful for his insights and support. This strengthened us both.
I worked hard to share many positive, fun experiences with my husband. I wanted to let the light in so he could feel and savor the difference. We went on many walks and took peaceful drives in the country, enjoying the beauty of God’s creations. I felt this would help fortify him against temptation if it came again and would help refocus our lives on the good and the beautiful.
Then the company my husband worked for began struggling and edged toward bankruptcy. Many lost their jobs, including my husband. This was emotionally devastating for him, yet we were confident that with his background and skills, he would soon find another job.
We were wrong. Months went by with no job. It became harder for him to ward off discouragement. My husband was very vulnerable. I knew this but didn’t know what more to do. We had resumed Internet service but with filtering. He was home while I worked, spending a lot of time on the Internet searching for jobs. One day he disabled the filter—never assume that a computer-literate person cannot bypass any filtering! I discovered the relapse quickly. At first I felt frightened. Would we have to start all over again? Then I realized my husband had made it easy for me to discover what he had done. He really wanted to overcome this! Again we cried and prayed together, and we drew even closer to one another.
As I prayed, the familiar calming assurance came. I felt we would overcome this problem. We realized this addiction was stronger than we had thought. My husband agreed to use the Internet only when we were both home. Only I would have the password until he felt stronger.
One great blessing that came to him at this time was that he found a temporary job that led to the good job he has now. My husband felt grateful for this blessing, which he saw as evidence of Heavenly Father’s tender mercies in his life.
When my husband had stayed away from pornography long enough, according to the time frame set by our bishop, his temple recommend was renewed. While he had certainly tasted the bitterness of sin, the joy he felt in his repentance was as exquisite as Alma expresses (see Alma 36:21). I still remember the bounce in his step as he came out of the bishop’s office. A heavy burden had been lifted.
As I write this years later, my heart still overflows with gratitude for the many blessings that came out of this experience. My husband’s love for Heavenly Father and the Savior has grown immeasurably, as has his faith. He has more humility. We both have a deeper appreciation for the Savior’s Atonement. With Heavenly Father and the Savior to lean on, we overcame a real and powerful Goliath. We face the future hand in hand, knowing that with trust in the Lord, we can overcome all things.