Gospel Story Finder

As a young man living in Kirtland, Ohio, Lorenzo Snow, fifth president of the Church, was converted and baptized in 1836. He had studiously and conscientiously compared the teachings of the missionaries with the teachings of the Savior. Becoming convinced of the truths of the gospel, he had sought baptism by immersion.

Following confirmation, he constantly anticipated an assurance that he had received the Holy Ghost. Two or three weeks following his baptism, he reflected that he had not yet received a testimony of the truth. Being uneasy, and laying aside his books, he left the house and wandered through the fields. A gloomy spirit and indescribable cloud of darkness seemed to envelop him. It was his custom, near the close of day, to retire to a nearby secluded grove and engage in secret prayer. This night he had no inclination to do so. The spirit of prayer had departed, and the heavens seemed like brass over his head. But, determined not to forgo his evening practice, he sought his accustomed place and knelt in solemn prayer.

“I had no sooner opened my lips in an effort to pray,” recalled President Snow, “than I heard a sound, just above my head, like the rustling of silken robes, and immediately the Spirit of God descended upon me, completely enveloping my whole person, filling me, from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet, and O, the joy and happiness I felt! No language can describe the almost instantaneous transition from a dense cloud of mental and spiritual darkness into a refulgence of light and knowledge. … I then received a perfect knowledge that God lives, that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, and of the restoration of the holy Priesthood, and the fulness of the Gospel. It was a complete baptism—a tangible immersion in the heavenly principle or element, the Holy Ghost; and even more real and physical in its effects upon every part of my system than the immersion by water.” (Eliza R. Snow, Biography and Family Record of Lorenzo Snow, p. 8.)

In this manner Brother Snow received comforting assurance as the Spirit of the Lord came upon him, and the Holy Ghost blessed him with a testimony that remained with him to the close of his earthly existence.

“So it has been all through my life. If I have undertaken to do anything, and the Lord has wanted me to do something else, He has had to tell me. When we were sent to England, we were sent by revelation. I went into the Staffordshire potteries with Brother Alfred Cordon. We were doing a splendid work, baptizing almost every night, and I thought it was the finest mission I ever was on. I went into the town of Hanley one night, and attended meeting in a large hall, which was filled to overflowing. The Spirit of the Lord came upon me and said that that was the last meeting I should hold with that people for many days. I told the people that that was the last meeting I should be with them. After the meeting, they asked me where I was going. I told them I did not know. In the morning I asked the Lord what He wanted of me. He merely said, ‘Go to the south.’ I got into the stage and rode eighty miles. The first man’s house I stopped at was John Benbow’s in Herefordshire. In half an hour after I entered the house I knew exactly why the Lord had sent me. There was a people there who had been praying for the ancient order of things. They were waiting for the Gospel as it was taught by Christ and His Apostles. The consequence was, the first thirty days after I got there I baptized six hundred of those people. In eight month’s labor in that country I brought eighteen hundred into the Church. Why? Because there was a people prepared for the Gospel, and the Lord sent me there to do that work. I have always had to give God the glory for everything good that has happened to me; for I have realized by what power it came.” (Deseret Weekly, 7 Nov. 1896, p. 643.)

“Remember to keep your eyes on your own paper,” Ms. Mori said.
Nathan stared at his test. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his friend Jason flip open his math test and start writing. Nathan sighed.
“Something wrong?” Ms. Mori asked.
“No, ma’am,” Nathan said quietly. But that wasn’t totally true. Unlike Jason, Nathan couldn’t stand math. He didn’t hate all schoolwork—someday he wanted to paint like Da Vinci or write like Shakespeare. In those subjects, there was usually more than one right answer to a question. But in math, there was only one correct answer. Just one! And Nathan never seemed to get it.
“Psst!” Jason whispered. He flicked a crumpled paper under Nathan’s chair. At first Nathan thought Jason was teasing him. But then Jason grinned and tapped his test, and Nathan knew what was on the paper—the answers!
He looked up. Ms. Mori’s back was turned. Now was the perfect time to grab the paper! This could be one math test he didn’t fail.
Nathan stretched to snatch the paper off the floor …
To cheat or not to cheat—that is the question, Nathan thought, borrowing a line from Shakespeare. As soon as he asked the question, he knew the answer. Nathan kicked the answers back under Jason’s desk. He had already decided to never cheat, no matter how tempting it was.
At the end of class, Nathan still didn’t like math. But he was glad he chose the right, even though he probably didn’t do well on the test. Maybe Jason could help him study for the next one.
Just like math, Nathan thought, when it comes to choosing whether to cheat, there’s only one right answer. He was glad he’d passed.

Even with the school yard empty, LeeRoy listened to the playground sounds. He heard the clanking of the rings swaying in the hot October wind. The chains of the swings were banging gently against the poles. Sometimes a tumbleweed got caught under the slide. It would finally be freed by a gust of wind and continue on its way out into the Arizona desert.
His small western town had lots of sounds that LeeRoy knew very well. The playground sounds were very faint, yet he could hear them as he sat inside his third grade classroom.
School was supposed to be fun. All the other kids really liked school. They were always laughing and crowding around the teacher and raising their hands. They got the right answers. Their papers had lots of stickers that read, “Good job” or “Superstar” or “Terrific.” LeeRoy could see their papers from his seat in the back row of the room. He never raised his hand. His papers got no stickers. His papers got comments like “Better” or “Keep trying,” made with a red marker. He sat holding a paper the teacher had just handed back, marked “Try harder, LeeRoy!” Although this was only the fifth week of school, he sighed, feeling as though he had been there forever.
“Today I have a special surprise for all of you,” the teacher announced.
LeeRoy looked out the window. He watched a tumbleweed free itself from under the slide. She has no surprises for me, he thought. I’m just a dumb kid. He heard a faraway train whistling its arrival. There were seven train whistles every day before lunch. He knew because he listened for them.
“Our town newspaper has invited each class in our school to write a story about how we know our town,” the teacher continued. “The class that writes the most unusual, interesting one will get their story printed and will receive awards.”
There was instant chattering in the classroom.
“Raise your hands to talk,” the teacher reminded them.
“What do eight-year-olds know about a town?” Lisa asked as she raised her hand and spoke at the same time.
“Just think about it. We know a lot of things,” Miss Anderson said, including herself as a part of the class.
“I know about catching crawdads in the creek,” Tom boasted.
“Oh how gross!” Molly put in. “How about the new library?” The class had been to it twice, and it was indeed a fine library for a town of only six thousand people.
“That’s boring, Molly,” Danny said, without adding any suggestions of his own.
Miss Anderson quieted the class. She went up and down the aisles, asking for more suggestions. “What do you know about the town, Fred?” she asked. Fred simply shrugged his shoulders. “Keith?” she questioned as she started down another row.
“My dad says we’re going to get tons of snow this winter,” Keith announced.
“It has to be something we know,” corrected Susan. “What about our city park? We all go there.”
“That’s a good idea,” agreed Miss Anderson. She reached the end of the row. “What do you know, LeeRoy?”
LeeRoy looked from the window up to the teacher and said, “Huh?”
“LeeRoy, what do you know about our town?” she repeated, looking disappointed that he had not been paying attention.
LeeRoy looked up again and barely whispered, “I know noise.”
Bursts of laughter broke out. LeeRoy lowered his head and heard his heart pounding, punishing him for being so dumb.
“That’s very interesting, LeeRoy,” Miss Anderson said, waving her hand for the others to be quiet. “Tell me about the noises you know.”
“Just listen,” LeeRoy slowly began. “The playground rings make sounds, and the chains on the swings, and the wind, and the clock, and the trains …” He looked up.
The class got very quiet, surprised to hear LeeRoy talk. The fan on the top of the teacher’s file cabinet whirred as it turned from side to side, clicking each time it stopped and started the other way.
“Listen to the fan,” Molly said, breaking the silence.
Everyone listened until Fred said, “I hear the lights humming.” Again silence fell as everyone held his breath and listened to the lights hum. LeeRoy watched as they all listened.
“That’s a neat idea, LeeRoy!” Tom said. The class listened for more sounds that they hadn’t really thought about before.
“We all know noises,” remarked Susan. “Let’s use LeeRoy’s idea for our story. We could write about the noises in our town.”
“That’s a wonderful suggestion, Susan,” Miss Anderson agreed. “Do we all agree?” When the class yelled its excited approval, she asked, “May we use your idea, Lee Roy? And will you help us learn about your special noises?”
LeeRoy nodded, and a shy grin broke out on his face.
The next day the class members listed all the noises that they’d heard after school and during the night. LeeRoy told them about the sounds that he liked best: the popping of the popcorn in the street vendor’s cart and the squeaking of the film moving in the movie theater. He liked the way the planks of the classroom floor creaked when the heater went on.
The story from Miss Anderson’s third-grade class was titled “My Town’s Noise.” It told about how quiet a desert town like theirs was, yet how alive it was with noise. In describing their noises, they had described their town.
The newspaper printed their story on the front page with a picture of the big blue first-prize ribbon next to the story. Under it was a picture of the class members and their teacher. In the front row, with a big grin on his face, stood LeeRoy.

There are also other people you can follow to find happiness. When I was eleven years old, my Primary teacher was Sister Esther Geis. The boys in our class knew Sister Geis loved us because she made us behave. In those days, we had Primary on a weekday after school. Across the street from our ward was a big empty field. We boys liked to play marbles in that field, and sometimes we forgot when it was time for Primary. Sister Geis would walk across the street and get us. Once she told my father, “Your son should shape up.” My father talked to me, and I did start behaving better.

My wife, Rhonda, and I have parents who are just regular people—probably a lot like your parents. But one thing I love about our parents is that they dedicated their lives to serving God, and they taught us to do the same.
When Rhonda’s parents had been married for just a couple of years, her 23-year-old dad was called to serve a full-time mission. He left behind his young wife and their 2-year-old daughter. Then his wife was called to serve with him during the last seven months of his mission—leaving their daughter in the care of relatives.
A few years later, now with four children, they moved to Missoula, Montana, so her dad could attend the university. However, they had been there only a few months when President Spencer W. Kimball and Elder Mark E. Petersen extended a call to my father-in-law to be the first president of the newly created Missoula stake. He was only 34. Thoughts of the university were left behind as he sought to do the Lord’s will—not his own.
My parents have served in the temple for more than 30 years—Dad as a sealer, Mom as an ordinance worker. They also served five full-time missions together—in Riverside, California; Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia; Nairobi, Kenya; the Nauvoo Illinois Temple; and the Monterrey Mexico Temple. In Mexico they worked hard to learn a new language, which wasn’t easy at 80 years of age. But they sought to do the will of the Lord rather than to pursue their own desires in life.
To them, and to all such dedicated Latter-day Saints throughout the world, I echo the words spoken by the Lord to the prophet Nephi, the son of Helaman: “Blessed art thou, … for those things which thou hast done … with unwearyingness … , [for thou] hast not sought thine own life, but hast sought my will, and to keep my commandments.”8
As we seek to do God’s will by faithfully serving Him and our fellowmen, we feel His approval and truly come to know Him.

All my life I was taught that there was no God. Little did I know how that would change when I applied to be a high school exchange student in the United States, representing the Czech Republic. When I filled out the application, one question was “What is your religious preference?” I knew most Americans were Christian, so that was what I wrote down. But I was a nonbeliever.
With anticipation, I awaited the outcome of my application. Where would I live?
I was assigned to the Grant and Jewel Hodson family, Latter-day Saints in Utah. Where is Utah? Mormons? Who are they? I looked up Utah in books, and I looked up Mormons too. The books said terrible things about the Church and especially about Joseph Smith. I spent my last night at home crying. I was terrified.
My mother assured me that everything would be all right, and if I didn’t like the family or Utah, I could come home or be assigned to another family.
When I arrived in Utah, Emily, one of the daughters, came to pick me up. She was 16 years old, wearing normal, casual clothes, and she was so nice. I thought, “Wow! This might not be that bad after all!” The whole family was warm and welcoming to me.
I experienced quite a cultural adjustment. I saw that my host family prayed before every meal and before they went to bed. They didn’t drink alcohol or smoke cigarettes. They lived moral lives. Everything was totally opposite of how the teenagers I had known lived.
And it seemed that almost everybody I met was a member of the LDS Church. I was impressed that when these people spoke about their church, they would say, “I know,” not, “I believe.” Never before had I heard such conviction in religious statements. If these people could know, I reasoned, there must be a way for me to know too. I was the sort of person who had to know, because if I accepted the teachings of the Church, I would have to make changes in my lifestyle and in my future plans.
With a strong desire to know for myself about the truthfulness of the Church, I watched the example of my host family. They didn’t proselytize, but the way they lived made me want to know what was behind their actions. I had never seen such faith.
I heard a Church leader say, “People will want to know Christ because they know you.” I wanted to know Christ because I knew the Hodsons. They were a great example to me of the way a family should live.
I began praying. I prayed for three weeks and nothing happened. I was a little discouraged. I thought that maybe I was not worthy to feel God’s love.
That same week I decided to join the Hodsons’ traditional family testimony meeting on the first Sunday of the month. The mother, Jewel, asked me if I would like to say anything. I said, “Sure.” But I thought, “What am I going to say?”
Since everybody had expressed appreciation, I thought I could at least express my appreciation to the Hodsons for all they had done for me. They had been so patient with me. They treated me as their own daughter and had never pushed me into anything. I would express my true gratitude.
I was the last to speak. I stood up and started saying how grateful I was for their kindness and patience and also for their desire to teach me about God. All of a sudden, a strong, overwhelming feeling came over me. The language barrier was gone; I had no problem speaking English. I was fluent for the first time! I had never felt anything like this before. I spoke as I was inspired. It was such a warm, beautiful feeling. I was quietly being taught, “You know what you are saying is true. You know I exist. You know.”
And I did know! With tears in my eyes, I sat down. I thought, “What was that?” Answering as though she had heard my question, my host mother quietly spoke, “What you are feeling is the Spirit.” All I could think was “Wow! It is true!”
With my parents’ permission, I asked my host father to baptize me into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. It was a happy day for me. I felt so clean and fresh! In addition to my host family, I was surrounded by many members from my ward who came to support me. I appreciated that so much.
When I returned to the Czech Republic from Utah, I was the only member of the Church not just in my town, Chrastava (population 8,000), but also in Liberec (population 120,000), a city about six miles (10 km) from Chrastava. I worked as a hotel receptionist and taught English in a private high school. I was desperately seeking to find my new place at home. I was close to giving up. Nevertheless, I continued to kneel every night and pray for a miracle that would bring me out of my despair. I also tried really hard to stay away from my old habits and friends.
Finally my prayers were answered. The missionaries came to Liberec, where I was teaching. (I later learned that Brother Hodson had contacted the mission president for the Czech Republic and told him about me. Now there is a growing branch of about 40 Latter-day Saints in my hometown.)
I have since attended Brigham Young University—Idaho and finished my fine arts degree at BYU–Hawaii. One of the highlights of being at BYU–Hawaii was playing on the volleyball team. On that special campus, my testimony grew.
I have now returned to my home in the Czech Republic. I want to spread the gospel message. At first, my father and mother thought I was totally crazy to have made such a conversion. Now they support me completely, and they are grateful for my education.
Maybe I can also have an influence as a teacher in the arts. The people here need the gospel, and they need the arts. I wish they knew what I know. I want to teach them the true plan of happiness. I know Heavenly Father wants my people to have the gospel and all the really good things in life. I know my Heavenly Father loves me and will help me to do my best, even though I have imperfections. I continue to desire to be guided by Him always.

Recently a stake president shared with me a tender story. Both the Relief Society and the priesthood had been working with a family in their stake but had failed to make progress with the parents. Primary leaders found the answer. Permission was given by the parents for their young daughter to attend Primary. Their one condition was that she had to want to go badly enough to get there on her own. Rides to church could not be provided. Because she had to go through a rough part of town, the ward council saw to it that someone would drive along beside her as she rode an old bicycle to church.

Through summer heat, through rain and even snow, she persisted in going to church. At Christmastime, a family in the ward gave this faithful little girl a new 10-speed bicycle. This so touched the parents that they too began attending church. This young girl was baptized. What made the baptism even more special was that it was performed by the newest priest in the ward, her recently activated father.

When I was called to serve as a General Authority, I had an interview with President James E. Faust. He noticed I was concerned because I felt inadequate for such a call. In his tender way, President Faust told me, “Athos, be yourself. Be yourself.” That night I lay awake in bed, thinking of my new responsibilities and of President Faust’s words. And I prayed. I asked myself, “Who am I?” And the answer came as clear and bright as the dawn of that brand-new day. I am, like each one of you, a child of God who wants to obey the Lord and serve wherever He sends me and thus be a better child of our Heavenly Father and a faithful member of the true Church of Jesus Christ.

Babe Ruth is revered in the nation’s heart as the home-run king. He was a winner, a champion in every sense of the word. But did you know that while he hit 714 homeruns, he struck out 1,330 times? He struck out almost twice as many times as he hit for the circuit.
The story is told that in the summer of 1927 at Shibe Park in Philadelphia, 35,000 baseball fans were all very busy booing one man. It was Babe Ruth. He had just struck out on three pitched balls for the second successive time. Two runners were left stranded on base.
He turned from the plate and headed for the dugout amidst the sounds of wild and abusive jeers. And before he sat down, he tipped his hat to the booing crowd with an unruffled smile.
His turn came up again in the eighth inning. This time the situation was critical. The Athletics were crowding out the Yankees, 3 to 1. The bases were loaded, and there were two out. He could win or lose the game for the Yankees, and he was going up to bat as a personal loser for the day. He selected his favorite bat and then stood at home plate facing one of baseball’s toughest pitchers. Now it all depended on him, the man who had just struck out twice, the man who had earned the insults of the crowd. The excitement was tremendous. All eyes were upon him.
The pitcher flung the first ball across the base. With all his power, Babe swung and missed. The next pitch was good, too, and Ruth swung so hard he fell over, raising a cloud of dust. It didn’t look good for him. But the third time, Ruth swung again, and this time he connected, connected with a loud explosion that sent the ball hurtling out of the park and beyond the houses across the street to make one of the longest hits in baseball history. (See Earl Nightingale, “Worth Remembering,” Our Changing World, No. 1180.)
Babe Ruth had staying power. He stayed in there when all looked lost. He didn’t become overwhelmed with his losses. He didn’t measure and remeasure again his failures. He didn’t declare himself a loser and curl up in the dugout and die. The greatest slugger kept trying, putting his heart on the line.

When I was very young, my father moved our family to Provo, Utah, where he operated a dental laboratory. After school, I would run to his lab and watch him make special false teeth. Often I would take a piece of wax and try to mold a tooth or a full denture. My efforts were awful! In my early teenage years, he would have me work by his side to learn each part of his trade. He was a perfectionist, and he constantly taught me how to remake the delicate, detailed work without any criticism from him but with continued explanations and demonstrations of how to improve. Each time I made a correction, he would tell me how much he appreciated my work and my effort. This gave me self-confidence, and my work improved.
Our time together, his constant encouragement and listening ear, and the many thousands of corrective counseling moments in the dental lab led to many discussions about God, the gospel, the plan of happiness, and the various aspects of life. This was how he guided me into a framework—a template, if you will—for me to try to order my own life.

When Elder Juan Alberto Uceda Andrade began courting Maria Isabel Bendezú—the woman he would eventually marry—he knew she was someone special. Both had converted to the Church as youth, and both had served missions in their native country, Peru.
Sister Uceda’s conviction to marry in the temple had a great influence upon him. The nearest temple was in São Paulo, Brazil. “It took seven days just to get there, using every means of transportation available,” Elder Uceda explains. “We traveled by bus, car, boat, horse and carriage, train, truck, and even plane. When we reached the temple, we reached out our hands to touch the walls just to make sure it was not a dream. It was a foundational experience for both of us.”
The couple were married in the São Paulo Brazil Temple on April 13, 1979. They are the parents of five children.

Shortly after coming home from my mission, I remembered what I learned from the wonderful people on my mission. I was hesitant at first, but I relied on the Savior to help me overcome my fears and start dating again. It took some time, but I eventually got engaged to my best friend from high school. He knew everything about me, including my fears and my experiences, and I was overjoyed to be with him.
But I was terrified. He was one of the kindest, most thoughtful people I knew, but I still worried that my marriage would fail as my parents’ did. My faith in an eternal marriage was faltering.
With these thoughts swirling around in my head, I turned to prayer and was prompted to talk to my mom about her experiences. I asked her why it was worth getting married when I could avoid the potential pain by not getting married.
That’s when my mom bore her powerful testimony of the Atonement of Jesus Christ. She reminded me that no matter how we struggle in life, the Savior is always there to buoy us up. If we trust in Him, then we have no reason to fear for the future.
My mom’s advice brought Doctrine and Covenants 6:36 into my mind, which says, “Look unto me in every thought; doubt not, fear not.”
If we live in fear of what could happen, we will never get to experience anything, good or bad. The whole point of being here on earth is to have a body and to be tested, but the Lord also wants us to experience the great joys that He has in store for us.
A few months later as I focused on Christ and pressed forward with faith, my husband and I were sealed in the temple. Even though we have our challenges, we focus on Christ. Keeping Him at the center of my life and my marriage has made all the difference, and I have experienced more joy than I thought possible. My life has gotten better every time that I’ve put my trust in the Lord over my fears.
President M. Russell Ballard, Acting President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, recently taught: “There is hope in the Lord Jesus Christ. There is hope for all in this life. There is hope to overcome our mistakes, our sorrows, our struggles, and our trials and our troubles. There is hope in repentance and being forgiven and in forgiving others. I testify that there is hope and peace in Christ.”1
As we keep our covenants and strengthen our faith in Him, I know that He will bless us. I am so thankful for His Atonement, which has allowed me to heal from my trials and my past, and has given me the strength to experience courage, hope, and anticipate miracles in my future. When we keep Him as our focus, regardless of our fears, we can always have hope for our eternal relationships.

Local leaders of the Church in Kiribati are deeply thankful for a new boat, aptly named Gratitude, which carried them to visit remote and far-flung islands across the vast Pacific Ocean.
Early this year, Area Seventy, Elder Iotua Tune, and his wife, Maii, along with John Kendall, president of the Marshall Islands/Kiribati Mission, and two young missionaries travelled in the Gratitude to minister to residents on the outer islands of Abemama, Aranuka, and Kuria.
“It is just a joy for us to be able to go and visit the islands,” Elder Tune said. “The people there are so happy that we came to visit, to bring them our love and the love of the Saviour, and we were so grateful we could go. Our boat fits the name.”
Their trip from Tarawa to Abemama Island, 78 kilometers away, took ten hours in the rough seas. When they arrived, they were surprised to find that a group of Abemema locals had eagerly awaited the entire day for them at the Church meetinghouse. They greeted their visitors warmly with big smiles, hugs and lots of food.
As part of their ministering, Elder Tune, President Kendall and the missionaries brought a much-needed laptop and monitor to donate to Chevalier Catholic High School on Abemama, where over 500 students from other small islands board.
“It was a humbling experience to see their computer lab. We walked into the building with the ‘computer lab’ sign over the door and there were no computers there. So, when we came with a laptop and a screen, the principal and the students were so excited! Now they have a computer in their lab,” Elder Tune said.
The group also delivered 10 desktop computers and a new laptop and monitor to the Seventh-day Adventist Church-run Kauma High School. The computer lab at Kauma High School had earlier been destroyed by fire.
Elder Tune and President Kendall expected to drop the computers off at the door of the school but were delighted to find that the entire student body was gathered to express their sincere thanks. The students further gladdened the visitors’ hearts by singing in their beautiful harmonic voices “Joy, Joy, My Heart is Full of Joy”.
“The feeling there was so powerful, it was almost overwhelming,” Elder Tune said. “We felt so much love and yes, we felt hearts full of joy.
“The Kauma High School principal, Tekemau Ribabaiti, is a wonderful, energetic man who is 78 years of age and still contributing so much. He was thankful for the computers, but even more so, he was touched that we would come so far to visit.”
Principal Ribabaiti told his students, “These people come with their hearts. We can feel their love. We are grateful for the computers, but we are more grateful for their hearts.”
Later in this visit, Elder Tune and President Kendall trained local Church leaders and buoyed up the Latter-day Saints at a devotional which focused on preparing the Saints for temple worship.
The people of Kiribati have long hoped for a temple on their land and look forward to the construction of the Tarawa Kiribati Temple, which was announced in 2020.
Young full-time missionary, Elder Baylor Johnsen, recalls the reaction of one of the members at the devotional. He said, “I stood up to address the gathering. When I started by explaining, ‘We are here to help you get to the temple’ a woman named Aribo began to cry tears of joy. As I saw the smiling faces of her and others, I felt the love of our Saviour for each of them. I left that island with the sure knowledge that God knows and loves all His children, even on the most remote islands of the sea.”

The sixth annual Super Challenge was freckled this year with sunshine, laughter, headaches, dirt, sunburn, shaving lotion, sore muscles, jokes, learning, and testimonies. In the summer of 1976, 225 Glendale and Los Angeles youth made their plans to invade Santa Catalina Island for a youth conference they called Super Challenge. They and their 50 adult leaders were all members of the Glendale California Stake. It was the youth steering committee, consisting of Julie McGuire, Sal Palilla, Jeff Harrison, Kim Slight, Renelle Gubler, Tina Tittle, and Eric Torgeson, who spent hundreds of hours of planning to come up with all the zany and fruitful things they did. The theme of the conference, “A Generation of Excellence,” was emphasized in the first hours when two competing groups spelled excellence in human figures on the hillside.
In addition to workshops and seminars given by stake leaders, Bishop Vaughn Featherstone had sent a specially prepared 20-minute tape on his book A Generation of Excellence from which the theme was taken. The young people were counseled to “cover up cesspools and plant new gardens,” to act as though the Savior were at their side, and to enrich their lives by becoming excellent.
At a three-hour fast and testimony meeting on Sunday, 69 young people stood and bore their testimonies. Four of them were nonmembers.
The rest of the weekend was filled with basic football, crab-ball soccer, speed croquet, boat racing, swimming, rock throwing, volleyball, and treasure hunting.
The waiters at meal times were “celebrities:” the person at the table who was the most blonde, the one whose birthday was closest to July 4, etc. When the lot fell to “the tallest,” special guest speaker and BYU basketball coach, six-feet-six-inch-tall Frank Arnold, accepted the honor and served his table with the flare of a French maître d’.
What a happy time! The leaders could see it in every face, and they were sure of it the night they heard noises outside and looked to find the hillside dotted with young people singing, “I Am a Child of God.”

Increasing our faith usually starts by exercising faith in our Savior and in His promise that we will be blessed when we keep His commandments. The following story found in the Church History Centre in Johannesburg perfectly illustrates this truth.
When Johnny Poo Shuping was sixteen, he met missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. The glow they carried with them attracted him. He said, “They were looking for somebody to teach, and they found me. We set an appointment, and my spiritual awakening began.”
However, not long after beginning the lessons, Johnny’s father reminded him that their family belonged to a different church. He refused to allow Johnny to be baptized and insisted that he attend the family church. Finally, Johnny and his father reached a compromise: Johnny would be allowed to attend the Church of Jesus Christ only after he had attended his family’s church first. He recalled, “So for the next two years, I woke up early on Sunday mornings to attend the 7 a.m. service at the local chapel in town and would then run swiftly . . . to make it on time for my sacrament and priesthood meetings.”
When Johnny was old enough to serve a mission, he had completed his first year of university education. Because of his excellent grades, he had received financial aid to pay for his schooling. However, if he left school to serve a mission, he would lose his scholarship, and all his work to get good grades would have been in vain. Johnny took a leap of faith: he decided to earn money and prepare for a mission.
With no support for his decision at home, he treasured the support and encouragement of a family in the Church. He was grateful for the important role they played in his life for the two years he prepared for his mission. They were almost as excited as he was when he submitted his mission papers and received his call to the Uganda Kampala Mission.
Johnny diligently served his mission, even extending his time there. But eventually, he knew he had to return home, mend his relationships with his family, and figure out what to do about school.
After his return—after exercising his faith by choosing to prepare for, then serve, a mission—Johnny enrolled in the university, knowing he had a huge outstanding debt from previous years, since his scholarship had been invalidated when he left. He recalled, “Discouraged a bit and not knowing what to do, I felt I should get to campus one morning to check exactly how much I owed.
“The lady at the administration center printed out the account, and I anxiously scanned through it, looking for the ‘balance due’ section on the bill. I couldn’t find it. What I found instead was ‘credit.’ I asked the lady at the desk to explain to me what that meant. She looked into the details and found that some financial aid program had come across my grades and, impressed with what they saw, paid the entire outstanding fee I owed the school.
“Furthermore, the amount listed under the ‘credit’ section was money given to me for my good grades. What a tender mercy! I sat there, drowning in amazement at the thought that I was debt-free and ‘confused at the grace that so fully He proffers me.’1
“I remembered President Ezra Taft Benson’s (1899–1994) promise that ‘When we put God first, all other things fall into their proper place or drop out of our lives.’2 I experienced the truth of that promise.”
Johnny went on to earn a degree with honors in communications and has launched his own enterprise. He obeyed the commandment to serve a mission and has never regretted taking a leap of faith and trusting in the Lord.
Based on A Leap of Faith, Everyday Saints of Africa, Marnae Wilson and Midge Nielsen, Africa Southeast Area, 2015.

A few years ago, I was struggling to feel the Spirit in my life. I wondered how Heavenly Father expected me to overcome challenges when I felt weak and insecure. I had so many doubts about my capacity to handle life.
I wondered if I just didn’t have it in me to do hard things.
One day when I was feeling lost, I traveled until I reached a quiet place where I could see the ocean and hear the birds singing. It was a place of solace—the perfect place to talk to Heavenly Father.
I poured out my heart in prayer, asking why I had to go through so many difficulties. I told Him I thought life was too hard and that I couldn’t keep going on my own. I told Him I didn’t know how I could handle the hard parts of life.
Suddenly, in that moment of vulnerability and desperation, I felt the warmth of the Spirit enveloping me—a gentle reassurance that I was not alone, that I’m never alone. And words of love and comfort entered my mind, reminding me of my divine identity, my potential, and my ability to do hard things with Jesus Christ.
After months of feeling alone and uncertain, I felt heavenly reassurance that I am capable—that I am a beloved daughter of Heavenly Father with a purpose. I’m endowed with spiritual gifts, and I’m bound to Him, the most loving and powerful being in the universe, because of my covenants. He reassured me that I can and am meant to face everything in life with the Savior on my side.
It wasn’t easy, but I took a leap of faith and decided to face things in life with reliance on Jesus Christ. I have been able to embrace so many opportunities and accomplish so much more than I ever thought I could.
I continue to face obstacles and challenges, and sometimes I feel that fear creeping in again, but when I reach for my faith in the Savior, I know that “perfect love casteth out fear” (1 John 4:18).

The first lesson was learned when we were newly married and had very little money. I was in the air force, and we had missed Christmas together. I was on assignment overseas. When I got home, I saw a beautiful dress in a store window and suggested to my wife that if she liked it, we would buy it. Mary went into the dressing room of the store. After a moment the salesclerk came out, brushed by me, and returned the dress to its place in the store window. As we left the store, I asked, “What happened?” She replied, “It was a beautiful dress, but we can’t afford it!” Those words went straight to my heart. I have learned that the three most loving words are “I love you,” and the four most caring words for those we love are “We can’t afford it.”

Lidia trudged up the long farm lane, not even turning to wave to her friends still on the school bus. Her mind was too heavy with her problem: What can I possibly find between now and tomorrow morning to take to the class auction? As if a new language, a new school, and new friends were not difficulties enough, now she would have to go empty-handed to the auction.
Her problem was instantly forgotten, however, when she opened the cottage door and saw a letter on the floor. Mr. Williams, the owner of the farm where her parents both worked, must have pushed it under the door. It bore an official-looking return address, and it had a Red Cross emblem in the upper left-hand corner. She knew that she would have to be patient until her parents came home for supper; then she would read it to them. Without the advantage of school, which Lidia had in this new country, her parents’ knowledge of English was still scanty.
If only the letter contained some good news about her uncle! Lidia propped the envelope up against the only ornament on the bureau, a little blue glass pony. As her fingers touched the figurine, she prayed fervently that it would soon be reunited with its mate, the one that used to sit by its side in their house in Poland. When they had sadly made plans to leave their beleaguered country and go to America, not knowing when—or even if—they might meet again, the two Jelinek brothers had each taken one of the glass ponies, praying that they would be together again one day.
Mr. Williams, who admired the pony one day and was told the story, had written to the Red Cross, asking for information. Surely this letter would tell them that Uncle Jan was now in this country too!
Lidia snapped out of her reverie and got out pots for the vegetables that her mother had prepared earlier. As she set the table, she looked on all the cupboard shelves. There was nothing that she could take to the auction sale tomorrow! Not a trinket, not a spare dish, nothing. There were only the bare necessities that the Williamses had kindly provided for them. The auction, with its proceeds going to the Junior Red Cross, was an annual affair in the country school, but it was a new experience for Lidia. She dreaded being the only one in her class not to add some object to the collection on Miss Pearson’s desk.
The door suddenly opened, and Lidia rushed with the letter to greet her parents. And while they waited apprehensively, she stumbled through the unfamiliar phrases as she read the letter to them. Then, as she came to the closing sentence, she slowly read these discouraging words: “We are sorry that we have found no trace of your brother. However, be assured that we will keep trying …”
“I’ll wash,” Father said quietly, “then we’ll eat supper.”
After the usual prayer of thanks for food and shelter, Father told of a sick cow that was now getting well; Mother had helped Mrs. Williams clean the attic of the rambling old farmhouse.
“And how was school, Lidia,” Father asked.
The girl kept her eyes on her plate as she answered, “Fine, Father. Fine.”
“But you are very quiet,” Father pursued. “You have trouble at school?”
“No, no trouble.”
“So?”
“Well, there’s an auction at school tomorrow, and I should take something.”
“What is an auction?” Mother asked.
“Oh, everybody takes something, then the teacher asks for bids, and the one who bids the highest buys the book or whatever. The money goes to the Red Cross.”
“That is good,” Father said, nodding. “The Red Cross helped us many times. Here, take this.” Fishing in his pocket, he drew out a crumpled dollar bill.
“No thanks, Father,” Lidia said, pushing it away. “I have money of my own from weeding. But we are supposed to take something that can be sold.”
Father’s eyes looked around the room. “There is so little here.”
Lidia’s face crumpled. “I know,” she blurted. “There’s nothing I can take—nothing in this place!” She hung her head to hide her smarting eyes and wished that she had kept her words in check.
The girl waited for a rebuke; instead, her father got up slowly and went over to the bureau. He stood a minute, then he came back with the glass pony in his hand. “Take this,” he said quietly.
Lidia’s eyes widened. “The pony?”
Father nodded.
Lidia fingered the smooth blue glass and touched the dark eyes. Nobody spoke. She was touched by her father’s offer, and she sensed that her smiling, nodding parents were thinking back to happier days when there were two little ponies standing together on the top of a piano.
In the morning, the glass ornament sparkled on Miss Pearson’s sunny desk, and it brought the highest bid of one dollar. Nancy Crane, its new owner, wrapped it carefully in tissues and put it in her lunch pail.
At supper that night, Lidia described the sale and told her parents that Nancy said that she would take good care of the pony.
“It’s good,” Father said, smiling, “that the pony helps the Red Cross in a very small way.”
While Lidia was wiping the dishes after supper, a knock on the door startled them. Looking past her father at the open door, Lidia saw her schoolmate Nancy. With her was a tall man.
“Hi, Lidia,” the girl called. “This is my father, and we’ve come to see you about the glass pony.”
As they sat around the table, Nancy’s father took the glass pony out of his pocket, set it on the table, and began explaining: “I couldn’t believe it when Nancy brought this home. Your Lidia had told her that it was but one of a pair and that you left the other in Poland.”
“Yah,” Mr. Jelinek replied, “with my brother.”
“Well, folks,” the other man paused dramatically. “I’ve seen the mate to this pony.”
Lidia saw Father’s hands clench tightly, and Mother’s hand cover her mouth. “You are sure of this?” Father whispered.
“As sure as my name’s Walt Crane. I saw it only a few months ago.”
“How, Mr. Crane?” Lidia asked. “I mean, who had it?”
“A young fellow came asking for work. I didn’t need any extra help, but I knew that my cousin in Grand Falls did, so I drove him there. I saw the mate to this pony when I helped him settle in.”
“This place, is it far?” Lidia asked.
“About a hundred miles. Listen, folks, come home with me, and I’ll phone my cousin. As best as I can recollect, that young man did look like you, Mr. Jelinek. He must be your brother.”
The Jelineks were almost too happy to talk as Mrs. Crane and Nancy took them back home—Uncle Jan would be with them again tomorrow!
Lidia gave Nancy another grateful hug, then said thoughtfully, “It’s really funny. Just yesterday a letter from the Red Cross said that they had not found Uncle Jan yet but that they’d keep trying. And it was actually through the Red Cross auction today that we have found him!”
Nancy had happy tears in her own eyes. “My grandma always says, ‘God often works in mysterious ways.’ And I guess that it must be true. I’m just glad that I could help Him this time.” She slipped the glass pony into Lidia’s pocket. “Keep it, Lidia. Soon they’ll be a pair again.”

I close with the example of a new friend, someone we met a few weeks ago while visiting the Zambia Lusaka Mission.

Elder Joseph Ssengooba is from Uganda. His father died when he was seven. At age nine, with his mother and relatives unable to care for him, he was on his own. At age 12, he met the missionaries and was baptized.

Joseph told me of his first day at church: “After sacrament meeting, I thought it was time to go home, but the missionaries introduced me to Joshua Walusimbi. Joshua told me that he was going to be my friend, and he handed me a Children’s Songbook so I wouldn’t have to go into Primary empty-handed. In Primary, Joshua put an extra chair right next to his. The Primary president invited me to the front and asked the whole Primary to sing for me ‘I Am a Child of God.’ I felt very special.”

The branch president took Joseph to the Pierre Mungoza family, and that became his home for the next four years.

Eight years later when Elder Joseph Ssengooba began his mission, to his great surprise his trainer was Elder Joshua Walusimbi, the boy who had made him feel so welcome on his first day in Primary. And his mission president? He is President Leif Erickson, the little boy who stayed away from Primary because he was terrified about giving a talk. God loves His children.