Gospel Story Finder

One of the most exciting experiences of my life was the first time I shared my testimony with a friend. Jan (pronounced like yawn) was an exchange student from Germany. Jan wasn’t a religious person and told me that he didn’t believe in God or any supreme being. He said he believed that after this life, there was nothing; death was the end.
I, of course, had a much different view of life. During our many conversations about religion, Jan was receptive and interested in my ideas. But Jan was adamant. He didn’t believe in God. His convictions were just as firm as mine.
I gave him a Book of Mormon with my testimony written inside. He started to read 1 Nephi, but after two weeks he said he lost interest.
My excitement turned to disappointment and concern that I had done something wrong. I talked to my seminary teacher about it. He told me that I was taking the first step in the process of bringing Jan home, and sometimes the person who introduces someone to the gospel isn’t the person who sees them accept it. He assured me that I hadn’t done anything wrong; Jan just wasn’t ready yet.
This experience taught me a lot. I am beginning to understand why bringing even one soul to Christ (see D&C 18:15) is so important. Heavenly Father loves all His children and He wants us to return to Him.
What I had initially thought of as a failure actually turned out to be one of the greatest blessings of my life. Sharing the gospel with Jan made me realize how much the gospel is worth to me. Knowledge of the gospel plan is something I wouldn’t trade for anything.
Sometimes I wonder if I could have said or done something that would have brought Jan into the Church. I pray for him, that someone can touch his heart in a way that will help him know that the gospel is true. But no matter what Jan does, he has touched my heart in a way that I will always remember.

Junior was recently baptized. “Father baptized me and gave me the gift of the Holy Ghost. I felt fresh and clean.”

Brother Mkhabele was also deeply moved by the event. “It was the most edifying [inspiring] experience of my life. When I confirmed him, the Spirit was so great that I did not lack for words to bless him. I felt that the blessing he received was really inspired. And since then I’ve seen a change in him. He is beginning to concentrate better. He thinks more carefully before doing things. He feels a greater need to help people.”

I have seen many Christmas trees. Usually they have been topped with a lighted star or a lovely angel. But the most beautiful tree I have ever seen had a big red bow on top.
I wasn’t sure how to celebrate Christmas that year. My mother had been a widow for several years, and since I was single, we had continued many of our family traditions and had celebrated most of the holidays together. When my mother died just before Christmas, however, the old traditions suddenly seemed too painful without her.
Just before Christmas, the bishopric came to visit. They expressed concern about my being alone for Christmas. Looking around, the bishop asked why there was no Christmas tree or other decorations. I explained that I didn’t want to decorate a tree alone and so had decided not to have one. Christmas seemed so much of a family celebration that I thought ignoring it would be the best way to make it through the holidays.
After they left, I went about my work. But the bishop did not let the matter alone. He told the ward Primary president about his talk with me. I had just been called to teach the 11-year-old girls but would not start until the first of the year.
One afternoon, Michelle, one of the girls who would be in my class, called and asked if she could drop by the next evening about 7:30. I was surprised but looked forward to her company.
The doorbell rang at exactly 7:30, but it was not just Michelle who stood on my porch. It was all of the girls in my new Primary class—with a Christmas tree, lights, and decorations!
They pushed the large tree through the door and started setting it up in my living room. Their enthusiasm was contagious, and I was soon moving furniture to find just the right spot for the tree. I asked what I should do to help and was told to sit on the couch and just watch. My next two hours were filled with the holiday laughter and love that only 11-year-olds can create and share.
The girls told me their names and what part each had played in the project. Cindy showed me the hot-glue burns she had suffered while attaching ribbons to the backs of gingerbread ornaments. Amanda couldn’t come that evening, so she had gone with her mother to buy the tree earlier in the day. Bethany was the tallest, so she was in charge of the lights. Lindsay joined the decorating with a large box of candy canes. Rachel put a stocking filled with candy and a gift under the tree. And Michelle told me they had tried to find or make a star for the top of the tree but couldn’t, so they had brought a large red bow.
That bow topped one of the largest and most beautiful Christmas gifts I have ever received. Even before that tree was finished and lighted, my heart was full of the spirit of Christmas and of love for each girl in my future Primary class. That feeling was renewed each time I turned on the tree lights.
I have some new Christmas traditions now. I plan to have a tree every year, and it will always have candy canes, gingerbread ornaments—and a big red bow on top.

From a young age Elder Otto Vincent Haleck paid tithing, fasted, and studied scriptures—and then he met the missionaries and was baptized.
Elder Haleck was born in January 1949 in American Samoa. His parents, Otto and Dorothy Haleck, sent him to school in California, USA. At the age of 17, he noticed that some friends in student government were different from other students. “They invited me to Mutual, and the rest is history,” Elder Haleck says.

A friend spoke to me recently of her father, who had suffered a stroke. She faced a hard time of life as she tried to determine the best way to care for and support him and also consider her mother, who had good health and days still filled with promise and grandchildren. Then my friend spoke of the reverence she felt for this time. She said, “I am finding I enjoy learning from him, watching him deal with this difficult process of an aging body.”

Growing up in the Church, Sundays tended to feel tedious and monotonous. It was rare for me as a kid to actually listen to what was being said. Maybe that’s why it’s so interesting to me that to this day I remember a single line from a talk I heard when I was Primary age.
At the time I was sitting in sacrament meeting, wondering why I had to be at church every single week. Then the speaker said, “Sunday shouldn’t get in the way of our lives, Sunday should be the center of our lives.” At the time that idea was so different from what I’d always thought that I wasn’t really able to understand what it meant. Even so, I could tell it was important.
In Primary we learned that we came to church to take the sacrament. I figured these two things were related, but I could never figure out how. I didn’t think too much about the sacrament. It was just something I did, and it didn’t have any meaning to me. Throughout the years, though, those two ideas stayed with me. I knew I was missing something.
Years later, in junior high, I found myself in a hard situation. I had a bad habit I was trying to get rid of. I knew it wasn’t so serious that I had to talk to my bishop, but it was still really bothering me.
I was embarrassed and didn’t want to ask anyone for help. Not even my parents. Not even Heavenly Father. I determined I could overcome this challenge on my own.
Weeks went by. I tried so hard to be better but without result. I was still struggling. I knew the Sabbath should be the focus of my week because of the sacrament. I had also been taught that the sacrament was a tool I could use to access the Atonement of Jesus Christ.
After trying and failing for so long, I finally decided to turn to the Lord. At last I set aside my pride, opened my heart, and prayed to Heavenly Father. I asked for help, strength, and forgiveness. I stopped waiting for change to happen to me and started focusing on taking small steps toward improvement, with faith that the Lord would bless my efforts.
For the first time I focused on preparing for the sacrament all through the week. The sacrament became something I looked forward to. I began to see it as an opportunity rather than a routine because it brought the power of the Savior’s Atonement into my life.
I felt change in my life. The things I was struggling with faded. I became more confident in myself. I was able to open up to my parents and seek more assistance. I felt grateful to the Lord for all of the help I had received. I felt forgiven. I felt clean.
I grew to understand what that speaker meant all those years ago. When I centered my life around being ready for the Sabbath, I came closer to Jesus Christ in a way that purified me and made me stronger.
Through prayer and guidance from Heavenly Father, I learned that I could not walk through this life alone, but that the Savior and Heavenly Father truly had to be a part of my life. I learned that when I spent my whole week preparing to partake of the sacrament, I was better able to fully access the power of the Savior’s Atonement.
I learned that Heavenly Father loves us and has created a way for us to be forgiven and receive blessings, but we need to do our part to make it more meaningful. I am so grateful to Heavenly Father for all that He has done for me and continues to do for me when I remember to prepare for the Sabbath.

My grandmother left Lithuania after the First World War. Her husband had died fighting in the First World War. So, alone, she gathered her resources and travelled with her four children to Brazil to start a new life. It must have seemed to her that she was leaving her heritage behind, along with family, friends, and culture. She was traveling alone across the world to a country that did not speak her language. She knew she would never see her homeland again, but she couldn’t have imagined the importance that place would have for her grandchildren.
Twenty years ago, 60 years after that brave woman left her home, my brother Nelson and I travelled back to Lithuania together. We were on a journey to discover our long-lost family connection. We found more than we expected.
I believe we were moved by the spirit of Elijah to begin that search. We hoped, at least, to find the records of our ancestors so that we could give them the opportunity of receiving the covenants of God in the Lord’s House.
We only had scraps and pieces of clues to help us begin the search. We had a picture of a cousin named Marcelle who was a child when my grandmother left the country. We also had two postcards sent by Marcelle to our family in Brazil. They had been sent without a return address, but they had a post-office stamp naming the city from which it had been mailed. One postcard was mailed in 1935, and the other in 1945. They had been mailed from two different cities.
We would only be able to look for our family in Lithuania for four days before having to return home. Time was short. On our first day, we asked our guide to take us to the city the more recent postcard had been mailed from. We figured we should start there. We hoped the people in the most recent place she had lived might remember her.
After a two-hour drive, we noticed a mistake. Our guide had not followed our instructions. He had taken us to the city where the first postcard had come from. Disappointed, we asked the guide to take us to a Catholic Church, hoping we could find some information about the whereabouts of our cousin Marcelle or her family.
I can still picture in my mind the small Catholic Church we were taken to. As we arrived, I saw a priest locking the gate leading to the entrance of the church. He appeared to just be leaving.
We parked our car quickly and hurried to stop the priest to ask him if he had ever heard of a Marcelle Aidukaitis. To our surprise, he told us that he had known a woman by that name. She was a nun who had passed away 10 years earlier. He did not know if this was the Marcelle we were looking for, but he said he knew where her family’s home was and would be willing to take us there.
The family we met was indeed the family we were looking for. We had found our family in Lithuania. We had found a needle in the haystack on our very first try. A real miracle.
I still think of how God guided us that day. First, contrary to our instructions, our guide took us to a different city than the one we were expecting to go to. Next, we arrived at the Catholic Church at the precise moment the priest who remembered Marcelle was leaving the premises. If we had been delayed by only 30 seconds on that two-hour drive, we would have missed the priest. If the priest had not needed to take the time to lock up, we would have missed him. If anything had gone differently, I have no idea if we would have been able to find our family during that trip—if ever.
But God knew our intent, and He guided us exactly to where we needed to be.
Three days later, we had a family reunion with the relatives we found in Lithuania. There were over 60 family members present. An incredible thing.
God is so interested that we take the names of our own relatives to the temple, and to perform saving ordinances for them, that He will intervene in our plans to help us find them. When we show the least interest in looking for them, He will do miracles.
I invite all to experiment with the hand of God in this work by doing what we can to bring our own deceased relatives to the temple. May God bless us in this great cause.

One afternoon I had a math quiz. I had studied for it, but I had forgotten to have a prayer to ask the Lord to help me do my best. I was nervous and did not know what to do. I wanted to have more than a silent prayer at my desk before I took the test. I asked the teacher if I could go to the rest room. Then I left class and said a prayer. When I got back to the room, I felt very calm.
The next day the teacher gave our quizzes back, and I realized I had done well. I know prayer helps. When we do our best and then ask for His help, the Lord blesses us.

I thought about Sister Shaw’s parting testimony at an earlier sacrament meeting. “This is my last Sunday here,” she had said. “Before I leave I feel impressed to share an experience with you.”
I thought about the story Sister Shaw told.
“I felt loved and secure in my home ward,” she had said. “I had lived there all my life. When my husband and I moved here, I was terrified to attend a strange ward, and didn’t want to go for several weeks. But soon I felt a great emptiness in my life and vowed to attend the next meeting.
“I entered the church with great fear. As people went to their classes, I hoped someone would introduce himself or herself and show me the way to go. I knew I should say something to someone, but my tongue wouldn’t work. People walked by, visiting with their friends. Some even smiled at me. It wasn’t long until the doors were closed and the halls were empty. Crying in despair, I turned and left.
“That night I turned to the one person I knew I could count on: Father in Heaven. ‘Dear Father,’ I pleaded. ‘I have always been active, but I’m afraid to go to a strange ward. I can’t do it alone.’
“The next morning I opened my door to a nervous stranger who said, ‘Hello. My name is Neva Gillman. I really don’t know why I’m here, but I had the strongest impression to come by and ask if you would like to come to Relief Society with me.’
“Smiling through my tears, I invited her in.”

As a young boy, I was deeply touched by the story of the boy Samuel, who heard the Lord calling and was taught to answer, “Speak, Lord; for thy servant heareth.” [2] I remember thinking, “If God knows a boy like Samuel, then He must know me, too.”

But then questions began to grow in my heart: If God called prophets back then, where are His prophets today? Does God still speak? These questions led me to search earnestly for a God who speaks to His children.

In that search, I spent hours and hours with different religious leaders. I spent many days arguing and trying to prove them wrong. At the time, I thought faith was something you won with words. I was driven by a desire to win, to outsmart people with my Bible-bashing. Even though I won a number of those arguments, I always walked away feeling empty inside.

So when someone warned me not to meet with the missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, it sounded like an invitation to seek them out. And I did. When I found them, I was prepared to debate. They were young and not very experienced in the Bible, and I thought, “This is going to be easy!”

I asked them the same question I had asked many in the past: “Do you believe in a God who speaks—like He spoke to Adam, to Moses, to Isaiah, to Elijah—and to my favorite prophet, Samuel?”

They began to share the story of a young boy who went into a grove of trees to pray. And as they described what happened in answer to his prayer, my heart burned within me. They shared Joseph Smith’s words:

“I saw a pillar of light exactly over my head, above the brightness of the sun, which descended gradually until it fell upon me. … When the light rested upon me I saw two Personages, whose brightness and glory defy all description, standing above me in the air. One of them spake unto me, calling me by name and said, pointing to the other—This is My Beloved Son. Hear Him!” [3]

As they shared that story, something happened inside of me. My heart was touched in a way I could not argue or reason away. I had no desire to debate. All that was left was simple and sincere to know: Does God still speak?

I knew then—and I know now—that God the Father and His Son, Jesus Christ, appeared to the boy Joseph Smith and called him to be a prophet.

It was a settled, confident, and personal witness. Joseph describes that kind of witness from God this way: “I knew it, and I knew that God knew it, and I could not deny it.” [4]

Moroni’s promise became real to me:

“[God] will manifest the truth … unto you, by the power of the Holy Ghost. … And by the power of the Holy Ghost ye may know the truth of all things.” [5]

I learned that God is not silent. Revelation is real.

That is how my testimony of the Restoration began.

When “I Am a Child of God” was first written it read: “Teach me all that I must know to live with Him someday.” However, Sister Randall changed the words because of a suggestion made by President Kimball.

Several years ago, before Spencer W. Kimball became president of the Church, he was visiting a conference in California where Primary children sang this song. Later, he said to a visiting Primary general board member, “I love the children’s song, but there is one word that bothers me. Would Sister Randall mind if the word know were changed to the word do?”

The change was made, for President Kimball had pointed out a very important truth—that while it is important to know what is right, it is more important to do what is right. Only in this way can we be sure of returning someday to our heavenly home to live always with our Father, His Son Jesus Christ, and our loved ones.

Last year while Elder David S. Baxter and I were driving to a stake conference, we stopped at a restaurant. Later when returning to our car, we were approached by a woman who called out to us. We were startled by her appearance. Her grooming (or lack of it) was what I might politely call “extreme.” She asked if we were elders in the Church. We said yes. Almost unrestrained, she told the story of her tragic life, swamped in sin. Now, only 28 years old, she was miserable. She felt worthless, with nothing to live for. As she spoke, the sweetness of her soul began to emerge. Pleading tearfully, she asked if there was any hope for her, any way up and out of her hopelessness.
“Yes,” we responded, “there is hope. Hope is linked to repentance. You can change. You can ‘come unto Christ, and be perfected in him.’” We urged her not to procrastinate. She sobbed humbly and thanked us sincerely.
As Elder Baxter and I continued our journey, we pondered that experience. We recalled the counsel given to a hopeless soul by Aaron, who said, “If thou wilt repent of all thy sins, and will bow down before God, and call on his name in faith, … then shalt thou receive the hope which thou desirest.”

But as they say, never say never—especially when the Lord has work for you to do. Twenty-five years later I retired after an enriching career with a large global tech company. Another company recruited me to Arizona, where Dana and I began to build our retirement home. Everything was falling into place as we worked through the transition. But for some reason the Lord had something else in mind for me.

Our family had been in Arizona for just over a year, and something about our “perfect” plan felt off. That year I also was diagnosed with cancer. Reflecting on that time, I see the Lord was preparing me for a significant change in the direction of my life. As I was going through this challenging period, I met a friend of my mother-in-law who had worked at the University of Arizona. She asked if I had ever considered working in higher education. That idea had never crossed my mind, but I felt prompted to explore job opportunities at BYU and found an exciting position in the BYU Marriott School of Business. I was still recovering from cancer surgery but felt directed to travel to Provo and meet with Dean Lee T. Perry in person. As soon as I met with Lee, I knew I needed to be at BYU. Fortunately, he felt the same and took a chance on me. Lee was another special person who the Lord put in my life to help me return to BYU.

It was not the first time I had met Lee. I had had the opportunity to take a class from then-Professor Perry as an undergraduate student. He was a new, young faculty member at BYU and brought great energy and passion to his class. Who would have known that this inspiring young professor would one day play a significant role in my life? Lee ended up being a great mentor to me as I began this new second career that offered me an opportunity to give back and to learn the important role BYU plays in developing disciples of Jesus Christ.

It was a major transition to BYU after years at a big corporation where the primary focus was driving business results; the pace and purpose were very different. Starting meetings with prayer, openly bearing testimony, and discussing the gospel while at work was unique, exciting, and refreshing. Over the past 12 years, I have also cherished the opportunity to mentor and work with amazing young people, watching them grow and develop.

With perspective I lacked as a young person, I now understand that the Lord led me back to BYU not only to recognize the important role of this sacred university but also to assist in the great work of developing disciples of Jesus Christ.

Shortly after my parents were baptized in Ponta Grossa, Brazil, their bishop called them into his office for an interview and taught them about the importance of paying tithing. As he taught about the principle of tithing, the bishop also referred to the blessings of living this commandment as stated in Malachi 3:8–12. We read:
“Will a man rob God? Yet ye have robbed me. But ye say, Wherein have we robbed thee? In tithes and offerings.
“Ye are cursed with a curse: for ye have robbed me, even this whole nation.
“Bring ye all the tithes into the storehouse, that there may be meat in mine house, and prove me now herewith, saith the Lord of hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive it.
“And I will rebuke the devourer for your sakes, and he shall not destroy the fruits of your ground; neither shall your vine cast her fruit before the time in the field, saith the Lord of hosts.
“And all nations shall call you blessed: for ye shall be a delightsome land, saith the Lord of hosts.”
My parents went home that day from church pondering about these verses from Malachi. Their initial reaction was not to pay their tithing, as they were recently married with a young and growing family. Life was difficult and they still had a very limited knowledge of the gospel. My father, having a very strong personality and being very rational, was not willing to pay tithing, because in his mind they could not afford to pay ten percent of their income to the Church, but the promise from the prophet Malachi where the Lord says, “bring ye all tithes . . . and prove me . . . if I will not open you the windows of heaven” stayed in his mind. After counseling together, they decided to give it a chance and to do exactly as we are instructed to do in Malachi.
They started paying tithing out of obedience to the commandments, but over time they gained a strong testimony of the promises made in Malachi. They could see in their lives how the Lord opened the windows of heaven for them. I grew up listening to my father saying that we could not afford not to pay an honest tithing.

As a seven-year-old boy living in the Arabian Peninsula, I was consistently told by my parents to always wear my shoes, and I understood why. I knew that shoes would protect my feet against the many threats to be found in the desert, such as snakes, scorpions, and thorns. One morning after a night’s camping in the desert, I wanted to go exploring, but I did not want to bother with putting on my shoes. I rationalized that I was only going for a little wander and I would stay close by the camp. So instead of shoes, I wore flip-flops. I told myself that flip-flops were shoes—of a sort. And anyway, what could possibly happen?
As I walked along the cool sand—in my flip-flops—I felt something like a thorn going into the arch of my foot. I looked down and saw not a thorn but a scorpion. As my mind registered the scorpion and I realized what had just happened, the pain of the sting began to rise from my foot and up my leg. I grabbed the top of my leg to try and stop the searing pain from moving farther, and I cried out for help. My parents came running from the camp.
As my father battered the scorpion with a shovel, an adult friend who was camping with us heroically tried to suck the venom from my foot. At this moment I thought that I was going to die. I sobbed while my parents loaded me into a car and set off across the desert at high speed toward the nearest hospital, which was over two hours away. The pain all through my leg was excruciating, and for that entire journey, I assumed that I was dying.
When we finally reached the hospital, however, the doctor was able to assure us that only small infants and the severely malnourished are threatened by the sting of that type of scorpion. He administered an anesthetic, which numbed my leg and took away any sensation of pain. Within 24 hours I no longer had any effects from the sting of the scorpion. But I had learned a powerful lesson.
I had known that when my parents told me to wear shoes, they did not mean flip-flops; I was old enough to know that flip-flops did not provide the same protection as a pair of shoes. But that morning in the desert, I disregarded what I knew to be right. I ignored what my parents had repeatedly taught me. I had been both lazy and a little rebellious, and I paid a price for it.

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!

Forty-six years ago I was called as an Assistant to the Quorum of the Twelve, and for the first time, I came to this pulpit. I was 37 years old. I found myself standing among the venerable and wise prophets and apostles, “whose names,” as the song proclaims, “we all revere” (“Oh, Holy Words of Truth and Love,” Hymns, no. 271). I felt how keenly inadequate I was.
About that time here in the Tabernacle I had a defining experience. It gave me assurance and courage.
In those days Primary conference was held here before the April conference. I came through a south door as the opening song was being sung by a large choir of Primary children. Sister Lue S. Groesbeck, a member of the Primary general board, was leading them. They sang:
Rev’rently, quietly, lovingly we think of thee;
Rev’rently, quietly, softly sing our melody.
Rev’rently, quietly, humbly now we pray,
Let thy Holy Spirit dwell in our hearts today.
(“Reverently, Quietly,” Children’s Songbook, 26)
As the children sang quietly, the organist, who understood that excellence does not call attention to itself, did not play a solo while they sang. He skillfully, almost invisibly blended the young voices into a melody of inspiration, of revelation. That was the defining moment. It fixed deeply and permanently in my soul that which I most needed to sustain me in the years to follow.
I felt perhaps that which Elijah the prophet had felt. He sealed the heavens against the wicked king Ahab and fled to a cave to seek the Lord:
“A great and strong wind rent the mountains, and brake in pieces the rocks … ; but the Lord was not in the wind: and after the wind an earthquake; but the Lord was not in the earthquake:
“And after the earthquake a fire; but the Lord was not in the fire: and after the fire [came] a still small voice.
“And it was so,” the record says, “when Elijah heard it, that he wrapped his face in his mantle, and went out, and stood in the entering in of the cave” to speak to the Lord (1 Kings 19:11–13).
I felt something of what the Nephites must have felt when the Lord appeared to them: “They heard a voice as if it came out of heaven; and they cast their eyes round about, for they understood not the voice which they heard; and it was not a harsh voice, neither was it a loud voice; nevertheless, and notwithstanding it being a small voice it did pierce them that did hear to the center, insomuch that there was no part of their frame that it did not cause to quake; yea, it did pierce them to the very soul, and did cause their hearts to burn” (3 Nephi 11:3).
It is this still, small voice which Elijah and the Nephites heard that the Prophet Joseph Smith understood when he wrote, “Thus saith the still small voice, which whispereth through and pierceth all things” (D&C 85:6).
In that defining moment, I understood that the still, small voice is felt more than heard. If I hearkened to it, I would be all right in my ministry.
After that, I had the assurance that the Comforter, the Holy Ghost, is there for everyone who will respond to the invitation to ask, to seek, and to knock (see Matthew 7:7–8; Luke 11:9–10; 3 Nephi 14:7–8; D&C 88:63). I knew I would be all right. As the years have unfolded, so it has been.
I learned too what power there can be in music. When music is reverently presented, it can be akin to revelation. At times, I think, it cannot be separated from the voice of the Lord, the quiet, still voice of the Spirit.
Worthy music of all kinds has its place. And there are endless numbers of places where it can be heard. But the Tabernacle on Temple Square is different from them all.
For generations the Tabernacle Choir opened its weekly broadcast singing these words written by William W. Phelps:
Gently raise the sacred strain,
For the Sabbath’s come again
That man may rest, …
And return his thanks to God
For his blessings to the blest.
(“Gently Raise the Sacred Strain,” Hymns, no. 146)
More than 100 years ago, President Wilford Woodruff, then 91 years of age, delivered what may have been his last sermon from this pulpit. In the audience was 12-year-old LeGrand Richards. His father, George F. Richards (later ordained an Apostle), brought his boys to the Tabernacle to hear the Brethren. LeGrand never forgot that experience.
For more than 20 years, I was very close to Elder LeGrand Richards. When he was 96 years old, that message still lingered in his heart. He could not remember the words President Woodruff said, but he could never forget how he felt when they were said.
On occasions, I have felt the presence of those who built and kept this Tabernacle. By music and the spoken word, those who came before maintained the simplicity of the gospel and the testimony of Jesus Christ. That testimony was the guiding light in their lives.
Great events which shaped the destiny of the Church have occurred in this Tabernacle at Temple Square.
Every President of the Church, except Joseph Smith and Brigham Young, has been sustained in a solemn assembly in this Tabernacle. And in similar manner, the sustaining procedure is repeated annually in general conference and duplicated in every stake and ward and branch as required by revelation.
The Lord said, “It shall not be given to any one to go forth to preach my gospel, or to build up my church, except he be ordained by some one who has authority, and it is known to the church that he has authority and has been regularly ordained by the heads of the church” (D&C 42:11).
In this way, no stranger can come among us and claim to have authority and attempt to lead the Church astray.
Here in 1880 the Pearl of Great Price was accepted as one of the standard works of the Church.
Here also two revelations were added to the standard works, now known as Doctrine and Covenants sections 137 and 138. Section 137 records a vision given to the Prophet Joseph Smith in the Kirtland Temple, and section 138 is a vision given to President Joseph F. Smith concerning the Savior’s visit to the spirits of the dead.
Here in 1979, after years of preparation, the LDS version of the King James Bible was introduced to the Church.
The new editions of the Book of Mormon, the Doctrine and Covenants, and the Pearl of Great Price were announced to the Church here.
In 1908 in a general conference, President Joseph F. Smith read section 89 of the Doctrine and Covenants—the Word of Wisdom. Then he, both of his counselors, and the President of the Twelve all spoke to the same subject, the Word of Wisdom. Then a vote to accept it as binding upon the members of the Church was unanimously passed.
That revelation begins, “In consequence of evils and designs which do and will exist in the hearts of conspiring men in the last days, I have warned you, and forewarn you, by giving unto you this word of wisdom by revelation” (D&C 89:4).
It is a shield and a protection unto our people, particularly to our youth. It becomes a part of that “whole armor” of God promised in the revelations to protect them from the “fiery darts” of the adversary (see D&C 27:15–18).
The Church and individual members of it have always been, are now, and ever will be under siege from the adversary. He will cover, even erase the still, small voice through loud and dissonant music awash with lyrics that cannot be understood—or worse, by lyrics that can be understood. He will carefully lead us astray with every other temptation he could devise.
Here by revelation the Lord clarified the order of the priesthood, and this opened the doors to fulfill the commandment of the Savior to take the gospel to “every nation, and kindred, and tongue, and people” (D&C 133:37) and to cause the Church to be established among them.
Here the Book of Mormon was given the subtitle “Another Testament of Jesus Christ.” Thereafter, whoever opens the book will know from the very title what is offered within.
The teachings, the sermons, the music, and the feelings and Spirit in this sacred building transfer without being diminished to the great Conference Center nearby, where they are heard by tens of thousands, translated into dozens of languages, and sent to congregations across the world.
Even more, that Spirit enters into the homes of millions upon millions of Latter-day Saints. In the homes, parents pray for the well-being of their children. Men and women and, as the Book of Mormon promised, even little children can receive the testimony of Jesus Christ (see Mosiah 24:22; Alma 32:23; 3 Nephi 17:25) and of the Restoration of His gospel.
This Tabernacle on Temple Square is “a house of prayer, a house of fasting, a house of faith, a house of glory and of God, even [His] house” (D&C 109:16). Those called to speak or to perform words, music, and culture are obligated to present that which is worthy.
To seek after the praise of men, the scriptures caution us, is to be led carefully away from the only safe path to follow in life (see John 12:43; 1 Nephi 13:9; 2 Nephi 26:29; Helaman 7:21; Mormon 8:38; D&C 58:39). And the scriptures warn us plainly what follows when we “aspire to the honors of men” (D&C 121:35).
It is not so much what is heard in the sermons but what is felt. The Holy Ghost can confirm to all who come within that influence that the messages are true, that this is The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
The Tabernacle stands here next to the temple as an anchor and has become symbolic of the Restoration. It was built by very poor and very, very ordinary people. It is now known worldwide.
The Tabernacle Choir, identified by the name of this building, has been a voice of the Church for many years. May they never drift from or allow themselves to be pulled away from the central mission which has been their place for generations.
For generation after generation the choir has opened and closed each broadcast with a message of inspiration, rich in principle and anchored in the doctrines of the Restoration, beginning with “Gently Raise the Sacred Strain” (Hymns, no. 146) and closing with “As the Dew from Heaven Distilling” (Hymns, no. 149).
The Tabernacle stands in the world as one of the great centers of worthy music and culture. But most of all, it stands as a standard of the Restoration of the gospel of Jesus Christ. That simple testimony was embedded deeply and permanently in me here in this building by those Primary children singing in reverent, revelatory tones.
God bless this sacred building and all that transpires within its walls. How grateful we are that it has been renewed and refurbished without losing its sacred character.
Elder Parley P. Pratt of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles read these words from section 121 in the Doctrine and Covenants: “Let virtue garnish thy thoughts unceasingly; then shall thy confidence wax strong in the presence of God; and the doctrine of the priesthood shall distil upon thy soul as the dews from heaven.
“The Holy Ghost shall be thy constant companion, and thy scepter an unchanging scepter of righteousness and truth; and thy dominion shall be an everlasting dominion, and without compulsory means it shall flow unto thee forever and ever” (D&C 121:45–46).
Deeply moved, Parley P. Pratt turned his thoughts to a hymn which is actually a prayer. For many years it was chosen by the choir to close its weekly broadcast:
As the dew from heav’n distilling
Gently on the grass descends
And revives it, thus fulfilling
What thy providence intends,
Let thy doctrine, Lord, so gracious,
Thus descending from above,
Blest by thee, prove efficacious
To fulfill thy work of love.
Lord, behold this congregation;
Precious promises fulfill.
From thy holy habitation
Let the dews of life distill.
Let our cry come up before thee.
Thy sweet Spirit shed around,
So the people shall adore thee
And confess the joyful sound.
(“As the Dew from Heaven Distilling,” Hymns, no. 149)
I add my testimony that Jesus is the Christ, that this is His house, on this sacred day of dedication, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

I have felt impressed to share a personal witness of how life's greatest test, task and commandment blend together to bless and develop us.

On Saturday, December 20, 2008, it was a busy day in the Miyasaki home. My wife helped with the finishing touches of our local High School's Operation Merry Christmas. We then cooked breakfast for the basketball team, and after running several more errands, she was getting ready to go score keep at the upcoming basketball games when she complained of chest pains. I deducted it was probably just her fast paced morning, and instructed her to just lie down and rest for a bit. My daughter came and told me that the pain still persisted and I called my sister, a nurse for counsel. She suggested I take her to the Community Care Center for examination. On the way to Rexburg from our home in Sugar City, my wife said in a tearful voice, "I'm too young to die". I scolded her for even thinking that she would die, but little did I know, that in less than one minute, she would state, "I feel like I'm going to faint", and then she went into cardiac arrest. As she went limp, I reached over and placed one hand on her head, offering a short priesthood blessing. I maneuvered my way to the hospital, steering with one arm down the center of the road, and with my other arm headlocking my sweetheart's limp body to keep her upright, until we arrived at the Emergency Room. I ran in and shouted, my wife is not breathing, and quickly the medical personnel rushed her to the emergency room.

I heard the overhead address system call out repeatedly, "Code Blue, Emergency Room". I watched the flat line on the heart monitor, fear overcame me and I called my daughter to tell the family their mother was not breathing nor had a heartbeat. Just as I hung up the phone, in the next miraculous moment, they revived her life.

She was transferred to the hospital in Idaho Falls underwent successful surgery, but still unconscious, the physicians warned me that they did not know how much damage was left by the minutes she was without oxygen before she was brought back to life. For 24 hours they reduced her body temperature to the high 80's to keep the swelling in her brain to a minimum.

I recall sitting by her side during that time, holding her cold hand, wondering what might our future be. Would she be less than what she had been? Would she be able to walk, talk, and think? How would our life now be changed?

I remember wondering what I should pray for. A blessing was given, could I pray for more than what she was blessed? What was the will of the Father? Did He want her to be here or did He need her in the next life? Or if she were to survive and be less than normal, did God desire me to live a life of serving my sweetheart?

On Monday morning, some 40 hours since hearing those words, "I'm too young to die", my Darla opened her eyes. During the next two days, she showed remarkable progress, and it looked as if all was well and normal. She was talking, walking, eating, making jokes, and began stating her worries. The doctors were enthused, and reported Darla would be moved to the rehab floor on Wednesday, which meant we were close to release, possibly on Christmas day. It was now Tuesday night, and after the visitors and family all left, Darla and I were alone in the room, holding hands, I offered a prayer of thanks.

After the prayer, Darla asked me, "Why did this happen to me?"
I responded, "Probably to learn some important lessons."
After a moment, Darla said, "I don't know of any lessons I have learned," then she asked, "what have you learned?"
I then rehearsed to her many lessons that I had learned, but one of the great lessons I rehearsed was from the teachings of Paul found in Ephesians 5:25: "Husbands, love your wives even as Christ also loved the church."

My discovery that night, was the answer to the question, "how do we take hold of the good root?"
We do it by following the example of our Savior. We taste of the sweetness of the blessings of the atonement when we abide by his invitation of "...that which ye have seen me do even that shall ye do."[12]

During the night after that sacred conversation, my Sweetheart suffered a severe stroke. The doctors after examining the MRI results reported that the bleeding in her brain was so severe, that Darla had lost her ability to speak, think, and be mobile. They posed a possible surgical intervention that at best preserve a vegetative state, but even at that stated her chance to survive the surgery was 50/50. Without surgery, they speculated she would die within a few hours.

As patriarch, I gathered our family into a hospital room. There I announced to them the state of my wife, their mother, their sister, and grandmother. The scene was heart wrenching. We had to make a quick decision. Should it be surgery with the best possible results a vegetative state, or let fate take its course and have Darla with us only a few more hours. A beautiful, heart searching family prayer was offered by my son, Jared, and the will of the Lord was revealed. Darla's mortal mission was complete, and we must submit to the will of the Father.

Brothers and Sisters, submission to the Father's will in all things is a pattern of love. It is the essential characteristic of the atonement and receiving the blessings of the atonement. It shows we trust in Him, that we love Him most, and in turn we can love others best. He then can bless us in ways that we cannot see nor comprehend. We then can produce fruit that we and He can lay up against the season.

Six days had now passed since we made the decision, and Darla was in an unconscious state throughout this time, her body hanging on to mortality, but day by day growing closer to death. On this sixth night, we had a dinner of take out Chinese food, which of course included the fortune cookies. We joked about how lame the messages of fortune had become, my message echoed this as it read, "the evening promises romantic interests". We all shared a laugh about my untimely message of fortune. For when one envisions romance, certain images appear of a night out, possibly going to a nice dinner, having wonderful caring conversations, and then cuddling and loving each other. That was certainly not in my cards that night.

I discovered that night what true romance really is. That last night of being together in this mortality was filled with pure love and romance. After my family had left, and it was just my sweetheart and I in the hospital room, I told my unconscious Darla that this would most likely be our last night together. I shared with her that I was ready to let her go and asked if she was ready. I noticed her eyes twitching, something that I had not seen for a week. I asked her if she could to respond by squinting her eyes once for yes and twice for no. She responded with a squint. It was evident her spirit was alive and was able to communicate with me. She responded that she was also ready to go on.

We then started the night with a prayer. I then read scriptures to her from sections 130, 132, and 138 from the Doctrine and Covenants, Alma 7, 42, and 43, and from the 5th book of Ephesians. I shared with her my testimony and lessons I had learned from each of those scriptures. We prayed again. During the time in the hospital, I tried very hard not to counsel the Lord, and not ask for things that were contrary to His will. I tried to really pray in the name of Christ, and to have the mind of Christ. That night as we prayed, I felt the feeling that anything I asked that night would be granted, and so I offered my sweetheart, pure, clean, and ready for service in the next life. I then laid my hands on my eternal companion's head and gave her the last priesthood blessing in this mortality. Then, after this most beautiful night, positioning chairs so I could lay down next to Darla, we then held hands the remainder of the night, all night long.

That, my friends, was truly a night of romance and pure love. Not a penny was spent, there was no fancy dressing up, no expensive dinners, not one dependency on outside entertainment. Yet, our spirits were molded into one, our hearts were bound, we were one in purpose though soon our paths would be temporarily separated, never would our eternal destiny differ.

As I went through this ordeal, there was nothing more I desired than for my sweetheart to live. We had a future with plans of serving in the temple, going on missions, and enjoying our family. Because of loving God first, I was able to love my Sweetheart the best. Because of submitting our will to the will of the Lord, we were blessed with so many miracles and continue to be blessed.

It was during Janet 5, after I had written a thoughtless letter that hurt a friend, that I wrote in my journal: “Through the many confusing voices that ring through my mind, one calming voice pervades and tells me the whole matter will be of no consequence.” After writing about that “calming voice,” I listened to it more carefully. The “voice” was right; when I later asked the friend to forgive me, he said he already had.

I conclude with a favorite vignette that drives this point home.

A mother encouraged her daughter to come home as soon as school was over. The time she was supposed to arrive came, and the time went. Thirty minutes later, her daughter walked in through the front door of their home, and the mother scolded her, saying, “Where have you been? I have been worried sick!”

The daughter said, “Oh, Mommy, I walked my friend Sally home. She dropped her doll on the sidewalk, and it broke all to pieces. It was awful!”

Her mother said, “So you are late because you stayed to help your friend pick up the pieces of the doll and put it back together again?”

She replied, “Oh, no, Mommy. I didn’t know how to fix the doll. I just stayed to help her cry.”

My prayer is that you will leave here today more committed than ever before to be there for each other, not just in sharing tears of sadness but in sharing tears of joy and victory as you support one another in your climb up the four steps on the stairway to heaven—that your life will be significant, that your time will be well spent, that you will prepare in every way, and that you will perform in every moment.