Gospel Story Finder

When I was a junior in high school, I struggled with my testimony of the Church. I loved school, my social life, and athletics. I was a “three-sporter”—football, wrestling, and baseball were my sports of choice. I loved competition and the social appreciation that came with a job well done.
Unfortunately, this love of social appreciation influenced me to get involved in other activities that were not as productive—activities that I knew were clearly not acceptable in my home or in the Church. But I felt like a popular kid at school, and if participating in certain activities provided this attention, then I wanted to be involved, regardless of the consequences.
One young woman in my high school could be described as my polar opposite. Her life was filled with the scriptures, seminary, prayer, and active attendance at church and Mutual. She was also captain of the drill team.
She and I were in the same ward, but I rarely saw her because I didn’t actively participate in the ward. We really didn’t speak much. She knew who I was and I knew who she was, but we just didn’t have a lot to talk about. Although I never told anyone, I had a great appreciation for her commitment to the gospel. In a way, I wanted it, but I wasn’t willing to go get it and give up what I needed to give up.
One day we were about to pass each other in the hall. I didn’t want to talk with her, so I tried not to make eye contact. Then she said, “Hi, Mike. Can I talk with you for a minute?” I didn’t know what she was doing. She continued, “Mike, I’ve had an impression that I need to share with you. I know that if you were to just give up some of the bad things you’re doing, then you could be such an incredible influence for good. I just felt like I needed to tell you that. See ya.”
She continued to walk down the hall in her direction and I in mine. But I was not the same. Her courage had planted a seed, and I started to reflect on my life and the truth of what she said. And then I started to change.
At the end of my senior year, someone presented me with the question “What’s so bad about being good?” My answer is nothing! Everything I have in life that is good can be attributed to my doing something good. I have never received something good from doing something bad. I am grateful for this young woman and her willingness to stand up and testify of truth.
I am now happily married in the temple and have six beautiful children. My wife and I are trying to teach our children what this young woman taught me: that being good is great and that it allows us to have a positive impact on so many around us.

The year before I served my mission the bishop called me into his office and extended a call for me to be a CTR B Primary teacher. I accepted the call, excited to teach the seven- and eight-year-olds in my class. At the same time, I also worked at a local supermarket. It was a good job.
Not long after I was hired, the manager and assistant manager of the store where I worked informed me that I would have to start working on Sundays. The manager said, “I am not going to work around the Mormons or any other church.” To keep my job, I knew that it would mean giving up my calling. My manager wouldn’t discuss it any further.
I sat down with the bishop and explained the whole situation. This was one of the first times we talked about a mission. I wasn’t sure that I would even go on a mission. But if I did go, I would need a job to earn money to pay for it. But I also wanted to keep the Sabbath day holy and be able to attend church and teach Primary. After a long discussion with the bishop, I decided to quit my job. Not long after that, I found a job at another store that allowed me to have Sundays off. I kept my calling, and for the next several months I helped those children prepare for baptism.
One day I was looking at the missionary discussions, just to see what was in them, and it suddenly became clear to me why it had been so important for me to teach Primary. The discussions taught about Heavenly Father, Jesus Christ, the Book of Mormon, the First Vision, faith, repentance, baptism, and the gift of the Holy Ghost—the very same principles I had been teaching my Primary class. I decided to pray about a mission.
I received an answer to serve a mission. I was interviewed by my bishop and received a call to serve in the Jacksonville, Florida, area. Teaching Primary gave me a better understanding of the things I would need to know to be prepared to serve a mission.
When I quit my job, some people might have wondered why, especially when someone else could have easily taught that Primary class. But giving up my job to keep the Sabbath and teach Primary resulted in a greater blessing for me.

When Camille Erickson was born, no one knew quite what to do.
Don’t misunderstand. Her parents already had five other children, so they were getting to be pros at parenting. Her five siblings had excitedly awaited her arrival. It was just that, well, she was a … girl.
Being the younger sister of five older brothers, and then the older sister of one younger brother, Camille knows a lot about “being one of the guys.” When the family splits up into teams for sports, Camille plays right along. As the only girl, Camille was the only person to have her own room—a fact she didn’t get used to for a long time.
“When I was little, I used to sneak into their rooms at night and go to sleep. My mom would find me the next morning, curled up on the floor,” she says.
But Camille, now a Mia Maid in Battle Ground, Washington, hasn’t slept on the floor for a long time. She still likes to play sports and to roughhouse with her brothers, but Camille’s life is more focused on school, Young Women, and friends than in those days when she was little. Also, her older brothers have grown up, and many of them don’t live at home anymore. In fact, since the age difference between her oldest brother and her youngest brother is 22 years, having the family all together is a rare experience.
“My brothers and I try to do things together, one-on-one, so that we have time to talk,” says Camille
Activities Camille enjoys with her brothers include things that are pretty unstructured, like watching videos, going out for treats, and taking walks together. But, occasionally, there is something more planned, like the time she took ballroom dance lessons with her 23-year-old brother, Travis.
“I think the average age in that class was 60,” says Travis with a grin. “But we had a good time.”
There are traditions that keep them close, too. The night Camille was born, Brad, her oldest brother, stayed up late to make her a birthday cake. Now her brothers send roses to her at school on her birthday.
“When my friends see that I get flowers from my brothers, they’re shocked. They can’t believe we’re all friends.”

President Gordon B. Hinckley started off his 96th birthday celebration with a shovel and some dirt.
Hundreds of Brigham Young University alumni, faculty, and students, plus family members and friends looked on as President Hinckley took his shovel in hand and scooped dirt to kick off the construction of an 80,000-square-foot (7.432-square-meter) building that will bear his name at the school in Provo.
“You do me a great honor and a great kindness in what you do today,” President Hinckley told guests at the groundbreaking celebration for the new Gordon B. Hinckley Alumni and Visitors’ Center on June 23, 2006.
President Hinckley thanked guests and commented about how his wife, Marjorie Pay Hinckley, who died in 2004, had also been honored at BYU when a social work and social sciences chair was named in her honor in 2003.
“Maybe we could move her chair into my building, and we’d be together again,” he said.
President Thomas S. Monson, First Counselor in the First Presidency, President James E. Faust, Second Counselor in the First Presidency, and President Hinckley’s son Clark also spoke at the groundbreaking. Family members, President Hinckley’s counselors in the First Presidency, members of the BYU Board of Trustees, friends of the university, and donors joined President Hinckley in ceremoniously turning the first dirt for the building.
After the ceremony, President Hinckley donated the shovel he used, which came from his own tool collection. Construction commenced immediately after the ceremony.
After the groundbreaking, family, invited guests, and university leaders hosted President Hinckley at a private luncheon. President Hinckley’s children paid tribute to their father, and President Samuelson presented him with a brick with his name on it to represent the new center that bears his name.

I used to think my mom didn’t understand me. It seemed all she cared about were her rules. How could she understand me? She had never done anything wrong in her life.
I decided I could do better without her rules, so I started to define myself in opposition to her. She always wore nice skirts and dresses; I always wore big, shabby jeans. She followed rules of etiquette meticulously; I ignored them. She did everything she could to invite the Spirit into our home; I listened to counterculture music. She worked to avoid even the appearance of evil; I hung out with kids who were in trouble. Even though I wasn’t participating in serious transgressions, Mom knew I was on the edge.
Mom spent many rough nights worrying about me. One night she got up to check on me and found under my covers a pile of pillows shaped like a sleeping form. She spent a long night calling my friends, the police, and anyone else she could think of. When I got home, she told me I was grounded until further notice.
Soon after, feeling angry and rebellious, I found myself in the principal’s office at school. Knowing I could identify the culprits of a recent prank, he explained to me that if I didn’t tell him who the guilty parties were, he would suspend me instead of them. I defiantly kept silent. So he called my mom and told her I would be staying home the next day.
This time she was really angry. As she considered appropriate punishments while waiting for me to come home, she went to get a box out of our unfinished attic. Distracted, she took a wrong step between the beams and suddenly came crashing through the insulation, drywall, and plaster of the ceiling, landing on the floor below. Still gathering her bearings in that painful pile of rubble, she had the thought come to her: Your relationship with Michelle right now is as fragile as the ceiling. One wrong step and the relationship will collapse from under you and will be permanently damaged.
When I got home from school, I expected a lecture. Instead, when Mom greeted me, she explained what had happened and gently expressed her love for me. She said she had been prompted to take special care of our relationship and needed my help. I looked at her legs, black and blue from the ankles up and covered with some bad scrapes. All I could think was how amazing it was that as the ceiling gave way beneath her, her first thought was for me. Even I was humbled. We prayed together for help in learning to love and accept.
It wasn’t easy. I really had to work to change my attitude. Looking back, I realize that all along Mom had my welfare in mind. I eventually discovered she was really fun to be with. We looked for ways to spend time together in positive situations, doing things we both enjoyed. I learned to see her as something other than a disciplinarian. And most importantly, I changed my perspective. Instead of being embarrassed by our “old-fashioned” home, I came to love bringing friends over. I finally realized that I was equally responsible for the success of our relationship.
I guess I’m the one who should have fallen through the ceiling, but I doubt I would have heard the Spirit at that crucial moment. I’ll always be grateful for a mother willing to love me even while I learned to love her.

My wife, Sister Birita, and I were called to serve as couple missionaries in Nabeina, a small island in the Pacific. The moment we arrived, we felt a profound sense of peace and purpose. After much prayer, we sought permission from our mission president, President Kendall, to spend our year-long mission in Nabeina. Our request was approved, beginning a journey of faith, service, and community building that would forever change our lives and the lives of those we served.
Nabeina has a predominantly Catholic and Protestant population, with very few Latter-day Saints. Sharing the gospel was a challenge, but we felt deeply called to serve the people. We observed their resilience and resourcefulness, particularly the men who were skilled fishermen. However, their ability to provide for their families was hindered by a lack of proper fishing equipment. Witnessing their struggles, we felt a strong desire to help.
One evening, while reflecting on the needs of the community, we felt inspired to seek assistance from the Church Humanitarian Fund. We envisioned a project that would empower the fishermen to provide for their families and support their children’s education. With guidance from Elder and Sister Redmond, we proposed the idea of supplying fishing gear, a wooden boat, and an outboard motor. To our joy, the proposal was approved, and funding was secured. This marked the beginning of a transformative project.
Working with the local branch president, President Mweea Mweea, we established a community-based fishing initiative, officially registered as Nabeina Green Market Incorporated. More than just an economic endeavor, this initiative fostered unity and self-reliance among the people of Nabeina.
The fishing nets arrived first, and the community immediately put them to use. While awaiting the wooden boat, I lent my personal fiberglass boat to the fishermen. On February 9, 2025, the wooden boat and engine finally arrived. A special dedication ceremony brought the community together in gratitude and prayer. The moment was deeply spiritual, reaffirming our testimony of the Lord’s hand in this work.
The success of the Nabeina Green Market Incorporated project relies on teamwork. Each week, fishermen retrieve and repair nets while holding meetings to discuss fishing activities and community well-being. During these gatherings, many expressed how the project had blessed their lives. One fisherman, with tears in his eyes, said, “This boat is not just a boat; it is a gift from God. It has given us hope and a future.”
The people of Nabeina are deeply grateful for the Church Humanitarian Fund’s support. The fishing gear and boat have answered prayers, providing families with the means to sustain themselves. During meetings, many shared testimonies of how the aid had strengthened their faith. One woman said, “We have always prayed for a way to provide for our children. Now, with this boat and these nets, we can see God’s hand in our lives. He has not forgotten us.”
Though most of the community is not of our faith, Sister Birita and I have always believed in serving all of God’s children. Our goal was not to impose our beliefs but to demonstrate Christlike love through action. This project brought people together regardless of religion, and we are grateful to have been instruments in the Lord’s hands.
The Nabeina Green Market Incorporated project is a testament to the power of faith, service, and community. Through the Lord’s guidance, humanitarian aid, and the dedication of the Nabeina people, a sustainable livelihood has been established. The blessings extend beyond economic opportunity, fostering unity and self-reliance.
Sister Birita and I have witnessed the Lord’s hand at every step, from the initial inspiration to the final dedication of the boat. We know this is just the beginning for Nabeina, and we look forward to seeing how the Lord will continue to bless them.
“For I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in” (Matthew 25:35).
The Nabeina Green Market Incorporated project embodies this scripture as the community unites to uplift one another through faith and service.

I think of another. I knew him well. He joined the Church when long ago I was a missionary in the British Isles. He had a smoking habit. He prayed for strength in that springtime of his Church membership and the Lord answered his prayer and gave him power to overcome his habit. He looked to God and lived with a joy he never had previously known. But something happened. Family and social pressures were brought against him. He lowered his vision and gave way to his appetite. The smell of burning tobacco seduced him. I saw him some years later. We talked together of the old and better days he had known. And he, like Peter, wept bitterly. He blamed this and he blamed that, and, as he did so, I was inclined to repeat the words of Cassius—
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,
But in ourselves, that we are underlings.
(Julius Caesar, act 1, sc. 2, lines 140–41.)

President Nelson made the following promise about spending time in the temple:
Our need to be in the temple on a regular basis has never been greater. I plead with you to take a prayerful look at how you spend your time . . . If you have reasonable access to a temple, I urge you to find a way to make an appointment regularly with the Lord—to be in His holy house—then keep that appointment with exactness and joy. I promise you that the Lord will bring the miracles He knows you need as you make sacrifices to serve and worship in His temples. [15]
In his “Think Celestial!” message, President Nelson commented on the importance of temple worship:
Spending more time in the temple builds faith. And your service and worship in the temple will help you to think celestial. The temple is a place of revelation. There you are shown how to progress toward a celestial life. There you are drawn closer to the Savior and given greater access to His power. There you are guided in solving the problems in your life, even your most perplexing problems. [16]
I assume that many of us are living closer to a temple right now than we ever will be again, so I hope we will take full advantage of that blessing by scheduling time to worship and serve in the temple as often as we can.
As was mentioned in the introduction, I served as a missionary in the Munich Germany mission. While I was a missionary, I wanted to learn what it takes to raise a happy and successful family. As I spent time with church members, I would notice what they were doing and how that affected their lives. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it didn’t take me long to realize that the individuals and families that seemed to be really happy weren’t doing anything amazing. They were just doing the small and simple things of the gospel consistently. I remember being so excited when I came to this realization because I knew that I could do those same small and simple things. I now know from personal experience that being consistent in the small things of the gospel is what really makes a difference in my life.

One evening as I drove to a friend’s birthday party, I turned down a secluded, dark two-lane road. Suddenly, I had a terrible feeling. The thought came to me that I should turn around. I rationalized that I was just being nervous.
The prompting, however, came again two more times. “Heavenly Father,” I said out loud, “there is no place to turn around. If I need to do so, please show me where.”
Immediately, I saw a driveway I had never noticed before during my many times driving this road. I quickly turned around and went home.
My friends were disappointed when I told them I wouldn’t be coming to the party. Thinking I had turned around because I didn’t want to be alone, they suggested that my husband join me on a return drive. My husband agreed. He dropped me off at the party and left for home.
Later, my husband called me. He sounded alarmed. He said that as he drove home, police officers stopped him to ask if he had seen anything suspicious. They said a truck had been forced off the road by gang members who then beat and robbed the driver. The police suspected that the gang had targeted the truck because no other cars were nearby at the time.
I was stunned! Earlier, I had been the lone vehicle on that same road. I realized that my prompting had been from the Holy Ghost and that I had been protected by the powers of heaven. As I contemplated what had happened, other incidents in my life came to my mind. I realized that what I had thought were mere coincidences were actually promptings from the Holy Ghost.

The other student President Holland told about that day was Sauan Sukhan. He was not as old as Lyle McDonald; he was only thirty-five years old. But that same day he received
A Ph.D. degree in sociology. There is nothing very startling about that except he . . . has a personal story of valor and triumph in which private or public challenges have been overcome.
Sauan was born in a remote village in Thailand some 350 miles northeast of Bangkok. To say his parents, and indeed his entire village, were poor is to pathetically understate the case. Their home was a shelter of bamboo and grass. At three years of age Sauan was working full days tending water buffalo and cultivating rice paddies. To this very day there is still no such luxury in that village as running water or electricity. The closest hospital is a hundred miles away—four days by foot and ox cart, the only available means of transportation. It is something of a miracle that Sauan survived the myriad childhood diseases so common to that country. Eight of his fourteen brothers and sisters did not, and he watched his devout Buddhist parents bury them one by one.
At his village school there were no textbooks, no library, not paper or pencils. Two teachers helped 400 children practice their lessons on slate or dry clay. Only four years of even that rudimentary education were available in their small village. But like . . . you, Sauan wanted knowledge—as much as he could get. So from grades five through ten he walked fifteen miles to a school in the neighboring village. That was, he says, three hours each way in the dry season, but considerably more than that when it rained. Later, his parents spent virtually all of their savings (which, as you might guess, wasn’t much for a family whose income bought Sauan a secondhand bicycle) so that his quest for an education might not be so burdensome.
They gave him everything they had; when that was gone, they gave him encouragement.
But after the tenth grade there was no money for him to go to the city. So, like untold generations of his ancestors before him, he returned to the water buffalo and rice paddies that would forever mark the dimensions of his very narrow world. But even in the remote reaches of rural Thailand the Spirit of the Lord bears sway. In a story too long to tell here, Sauan did, with the encouragement of these destitute but faithful Buddhist parents, get to the city briefly. And in the most providential of moments, he opened his door one day to two young Americans who had short hair, wore white shirts, and spoke impeccable Thai. The rest is history—sweet history.

Spencer W. Kimball was baptized in Arizona on March 28, 1903, in the tub used to clean off the bristles and dirt from slaughtered hogs. The tub was also used as the family’s bathtub. It was large enough for only one person, so his father stood outside the tub, which some people felt was not a correct way to baptize. To be sure that Spencer was properly baptized, he was baptized again, when he was twelve years old, in the Union Canal.

Tommy had been wondering how to get to St. Joseph. “Do you think we could leave for St. Joseph in the morning?” he asked his mother.
“We could if we had someone to go with us,” she replied. “Your father insisted that we should not travel far alone.”
“I heard last week that Brother Morley was going to St. Joseph,” said Tommy. “Do you think we might travel with him?”
“We might,” replied his mother. “We’ll go over to his cabin after supper and ask him.”
Brother Morley was happy to have their company. Two days later, with Tommy driving one wagon and Elija the other, the family left Winter Quarters with Brother Morley and his son.
The first thing they did in St. Joseph was to buy shoes for Elija and Eliza. Then they filled the wagons with corn, wheat, and potatoes.
Betsy looked longingly at some honey that a man had brought to the store from his farm. But there was no money left over to buy honey.
“Never mind,” said Elija. “In Nauvoo we used to harvest wild honey. Maybe on our way home we can find a hollow tree that bees have deserted.”
The second night out from St. Joseph, when Tommy and Elija were scouting around close to their camp, they found a hollow log. It was filled to the brim with honey. The boys had not taken a container with them, so they scraped a little honey onto a piece of tree bark and took it back for their supper. Afterward they returned with two big kettles in which to harvest the honey.
As they began to scoop the honey into the kettles, the boys heard a low growl behind them, and they turned to face a large bear that had also found the honey tree. Dropping their kettles, they raced toward camp, calling for help. In their rush, Tommy stumbled over a log. Elija saw him fall, and he also saw that the bear was not far behind. “Slide under the log, Tommy!” he shouted.
Brother Morley heard the boys’ cries for help. He came running with his rifle, took careful aim, and fired his gun. The bear dropped dead at the side of the log.
“Thank you, Brother Morley,” the boys said gratefully. And Tommy thought how glad he was that his father had insisted they never travel far alone.
The words of his mother echoed in Tommy’s ears: “It is good to know that your father is still taking care of us even though he is far away.”

I would like to share a true story with you which involved a close friend of mine.
Cody Parmer and his friend were coming home from fishing almost two years ago. They lost control of their pick-up truck, resulting in an end-over-end roll over. Both boys were ejected from the truck. Cody’s friend was taken by ambulance to a nearby hospital where he was in very critical condition. Cody’s injuries were much more severe so he was life-flighted to a hospital in Idaho Falls. He was not given any hope of survival and was then air lifted to the LDS Hospital in Salt Lake City.

It was determined that he had a broken neck, a broken arm, a pelvis broken in four places, sixteen fractures in his face, and a severely fractured skull. Due to the pressure in his head, he lost vision in his left eye. His parents were told that he was not expected to live and they became very discouraged. Even with such negative prognosis for Cody’s future, his parents did not lose hope. They asked the doctors to continue to do all they could for their son, which included a steel plate and 2 screws in his neck, a plate with 7 screws in his arm, and a pelvic brace drilled and attached to his right hip. While at home recovering, he started leaking spinal fluid out his nose, resulting in another surgery. His family was encouraged that he was making some progress, then Cody started to have major head aches, resulting in a return to the LDS Hospital. Tests discovered a leaking artery in the brain. After an unsuccessful surgery, he was rescheduled for another operation ten days later. Following that surgery, he had a massive brain hemorrhage, causing him to be totally comatose again. During the 8-hour brain surgery, Cody’s parents were told that he would be paralyzed on the left side if he was even able to survive the surgery. He struggled following the surgery, and was once again life-flighted back to the LDS hospital for the third time. Additional lengthy brain surgery was successful in repairing his original leaking artery. His parents were then told that Cody’s brain scan was not good and that there was very little chance of him surviving. They were told that if by some slight chance he did live, he would assuredly be a vegetable.

It was right at this stage that I first met Cody and his family. I was introduced to them by a Stake President in Idaho Falls, following an assignment in their stake. Sister Zwick and I were pleased to visit Cody in the LDS Hospital and to there give him a Priesthood blessing. We sensed the family’s frustrations and discouragement, however, we were overwhelmed by their steadiness, faith and courage.

Cody was in a deep coma when we first met him. While still in his coma, doctors replaced his bone plate. Soon after this his body rejected the plate and it had to be removed. After 45 days in the hospital, his parents took him home rather than following the doctor’s advice to institutionalize him. This required 24-hour care. His parents were taught how to change his tracheotomy tube and how to provide nourishment through a feeding tube that went directly into his stomach. They frequently sucked fluid from his lungs to avoid pneumonia. Cody could not yet speak or even respond to the loving care of his parents and other family members.

His parents were steady and faithful throughout this entire trial. They truly are among the most valiant people we have ever known. With great faith in the Lord, strengthened by their love for Cody, they dressed him daily, placed him in his wheelchair, read scriptures together, and prayed with Cody. They learned that one finger meant yes and two fingers meant no. Finally, on the fourth surgery, his body accepted a titanium plate connected with 27 screws. Still struggling with pressure and leakage, a shunt was surgically implanted.

Six months later, following sixteen major surgeries, Cody is progressing steadily. His five weeks at the LDS Hospital re-habilitation unit, his continual therapy, and even more importantly, his abiding faith and positive outlook, have helped him to talk, to smile, to stand holding 70% of his body, to swallow ten spoonfuls of water, to hold a pencil, to balance so he could sit for 17 seconds, to sit in his wheelchair, to walk with a brace and now with a cane.

I remember very well the day he set a record with 16 steps on his own. Truly Cody Parmer is a walking miracle. In fact he will graduate from Skyline High School this spring with a letter in walking.

He was also recently voted the Homecoming King by his peers at his High School. Sister Zwick and I are proud to know Cody and his family. We consider them eternal friends, and thank them for the many lessons on faith and courage they have taught to our family since the time we first met them. We are grateful to have been in their home where we have seen the support of so many close friends and family at Cody’s side. We are particularly warmed by their deep sense of gratitude for each little incremental step of improvement which Cody has made along this very long and difficult road of improvement.

Cody as well as his family went through struggle, pain, and setbacks. They experienced their own personal Gethsemane. But they never lost faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. Cody had every reason to let discouragement drag him down but he knows what his ultimate destination is. Instead of being consumed by his trials and tests, he was refined by them. Instead of losing his way, he found his way. My friend Cody is here today with his wonderful parents. We wanted you to get personally acquainted with one of life’s true heros.

Cody....come join me for a few moments.
You are observing one of life's great miracles.
Cody, how do you continue to overcome discouragement and cope with the challenges you face everyday?
"Well, I guess, one of the biggest thing that helps me is friends and family. My family is one of the greatest families in the world. My mom and dad are here today with me and I just want to thank my mom for all of her patience and everything that she has done for me. And my dad and some of my other family. . .like my grandma and grandpa as well. I can't thank these guys for their support enough. If it were not for my families support, I would not be where I am at today.

Friends are also extremely important. You got to pick good friends. Choose friends that are gonna stay on the right path. They are gonna go out on Friday night and do the right thing. They are not going out drinking and stuff. You can go out and have a good, fun time, but you can also do good things. Friends are have been important. I have some great friends."
Tell us how you feel about the power of the Priesthood and of God’s love for you.
"The Savior is a very great man. I went through a lot of pain myself. I rolled the truck. I was in a coma. I went through all of that pain, but that is nothing compared to what the Savior did for us. He was hung on a cross. He had nails put through in his hands and feet. He went through a lot more pain than I did. He went through his pain willingly. He didn't have an accident. He chose to go through his pain. I didn't choose to go through mine. He still did it for us. We owe him a lot you guys. I love you guys."

We have learned valuable principles from Cody.
Don’t allow yourselves to be discouraged by events which you cannot control. Overcome discouragement by trusting in the Lord and losing yourselves serving others. When your service is pure, you will be able to make adjustments in your own behavior which will result in happiness and in you knowing of your own self worth. This will also qualify you to receive more responsibility and to have added light and understanding. Cody learned the importance of prayer and exercising his faith in the Savior.
Thank you, Cody for joining us today.

Elder Mason had another experience just weeks after his marriage that helped him prioritize his family responsibilities. He said:
“Marie and I had rationalized that to get me through medical school it would be necessary for her to remain in the workplace. Although this was not what we [wanted] to do, children would have to come later. [While looking at a Church magazine at my parents’ home,] I saw an article by Elder Spencer W. Kimball, then of the Quorum of the Twelve, [highlighting] responsibilities associated with marriage. According to Elder Kimball, one sacred responsibility was to multiply and replenish the earth. My parents’ home was [close to] the Church Administration Building. I immediately walked to the offices, and 30 minutes after reading his article, I found myself sitting across the desk from Elder Spencer W. Kimball.” (This wouldn’t be so easy today.)
“I explained that I wanted to become a doctor. There was no alternative but to postpone having our family. Elder Kimball listened patiently and then responded in a soft voice, ‘Brother Mason, would the Lord want you to break one of his important commandments in order for you to become a doctor? With the help of the Lord, you can have your family and still become a doctor. Where is your faith?’”
Elder Mason continued: “Our first child was born less than a year later. Marie and I worked hard, and the Lord opened the windows of heaven.” The Masons were blessed with two more children before he graduated from medical school four years later.9

And I remember hearing in New Zealand the testimony of a man from the far side of Australia who, having been previously sealed by civil authority and then joined the Church with his wife and children, had traveled all the way across that wide continent, then across the Tasman Sea to Auckland, and down to the temple in the beautiful valley of the Waikata. As I remember his words, he said, “We could not afford to come. Our worldly possessions consisted of an old car, our furniture, and our dishes. I said to my family, ‘We cannot afford to go.’ Then I looked into the faces of my beautiful wife and our beautiful children, and I said, ‘We cannot afford not to go. If the Lord will give me strength, I can work and earn enough for another car and furniture and dishes, but if I should lose these my loved ones, I would be poor indeed in both life and in eternity.’”

We have mentioned that Brigham Young had his tests. So did Heber C. Kimball—he was tried to the core. I believe there are those even in the Church who would say in their hearts that the test of Abraham is too much; that a loving God would not require such a thing of any man, least of all someone as faithful as Abraham. Those who have such thoughts had better think again. Modern revelation indicates at least three times that each of us who seeks eternal life must one day be tried, even as Abraham.38 I put the question once to President Hugh B. Brown, when we were in Israel: Why was Abraham commanded to go up on that mountain (traditionally Mount Moriah in Jerusalem) and offer as a sacrifice his only hope for the promised posterity? President Brown wisely replied, “Abraham needed to learn something about Abraham.”39 By being tested, all of us will one day know how much our hearts are really set on the kingdom of God.

Heber C. Kimball’s test was of that kind. A pure and humble man, at the restoration of the principle of plural marriage he was commanded—and that’s the word, not counselled—to take a second wife; and to make it worse, in that soul-wrenching setting he was told he must not yet confide this to his own companion, Vilate, whom he loved with a pure love, and with whom he had shared his spiritual life since their marriage, and particularly from the time they entered the Church. At the time of his baptism a voice had spoken to him, giving him some insight into his origins, his genealogy, and also whispering of things yet future. One thing he was told by the Spirit even then was that he and his wife would never be separated.40 Now, years later, he was being asked by a prophet to become separate in a sense—to enter plural marriage.

Filled with anxiety, Heber spent much of his nights pacing the floor. His dear Vilate begged him to tell her what was wrong, but because the Prophet had told him not to he couldn’t and wouldn’t. Finally, she in faith and desperate need went to her room and poured out her soul to God. “What is it, O Lord? How can I help my beloved?” And the Lord saw fit to give her a wonderful manifestation, for she saw and heard unspeakable things. She returned to her husband, her face aglow, and said, “Heber, what you kept from me the Lord has shown to me.” She covenanted to honor the principle with him. Heber, who had been supplicating the Father at the same time as she had, embraced her with comparable joy.

Heber passed the test. Later the Prophet, in tears, took him and his wife Vilate upstairs in his own store and blessed them personally and sealed upon them blessings that only come to those who have come up through affliction.41

It’d be nice to get the chance to do things over again, wouldn’t it? Well, some things. You might like to relive your happiest birthday or avoid your most embarrassing moment, but would you jump at the chance to repeat a project that involved around 100 hours of hard work?
Chanelle Cann of West Jordan, Utah, did. After finishing years of work to earn her Young Womanhood Award, she turned around and did it all over again. The revised Personal Progress book and new medallion were her inspiration.
The General Young Women presidency encouraged young women already working on the old program to transfer their hours and finish up with the new program. They didn’t expect young women to earn both awards. After doing all the work once, what was Chanelle thinking?
Actually, she was thinking ahead. She wanted the chance to grow with the right attitude, so she’d be more prepared for her future.
“When I was younger I worked on the Personal Progress program because it was there. When I got to be a Laurel, I did it because I wanted to,” she said. “I wanted to do the new program because I knew I would be doing it for the right reasons.”
Chanelle was proud of her first award, but she understood that personal progress isn’t something you need a book to do.
When her stake president introduced the changes to the Young Women program, Chanelle picked up a copy of the new Personal Progress book and headed straight home to plan.
Her mom, Evelyn, said Chanelle stayed up well past midnight that night mapping out how she could earn the new award and how many hours per week she could work on it, starting the next day.
“I told her you could just pay and get the other necklace instead,” Chanelle’s mom said, “but she said, ‘No, I want to really earn it.’”
Chanelle didn’t want another necklace, she wanted a chance for growth. She would be graduating from high school soon and wanted to be prepared for the future. But she didn’t need a book to get what she wanted.
“All the things I did were things I needed to learn for the future anyway. I used the new program because I knew something that came from the prophet could give me good direction,” she said.
Her projects included attending the temple several times a week to do baptisms for the dead, volunteering at an elementary school, writing poetry about the Savior, recording songs with her guitar, hand stitching a temple quilt, serving at a rest home, making family home evening files for her future family, and learning to cook.
Chanelle said the cooking project didn’t turn out so well. She made some pies that were more of a learning experience than a gourmet dessert. She’s going to keep trying anyway.
As it turns out, Chanelle makes a better writer than a chef. Her favorite project was writing poetry. She also loved writing about her experiences in her journal because it helped her realize how much she actually learned from doing the projects with the right attitude.
“Putting my feelings down on paper helps me recognize what I believe in and makes me more grateful,” she said.
To earn the second award, Chanelle did 70 hours of projects and completed 42 other value experiences, on top of school and work.
“It took a lot of time, but it was worth it,” she said.
It isn’t her two medallions hanging around her neck on the same gold chain that light up her face, though. Her glittering smile reveals how much she’s grown. She said doing both programs strengthened her testimony, helped her recognize her potential, made her aware of all her blessings, and prepared her for the future.
“I think I try harder now to keep the Spirit with me and recognize what I do in my life really does affect me,” she said.
Chanelle has a lot of goals for the future, including an education, a mission, and getting married in the Salt Lake Temple. She said she’s grateful for the chance she had to earn the Young Womanhood Award—twice, because it prepared her to accomplish those goals.
Perhaps one of Chanelle’s poems said it best:
“The simple things you do
Determine what the future will bring to you.”
Now, Chanelle is always looking for new ways to grow. Earning both awards helped set a pattern of personal progress that will last her a lifetime.

One Sunday evening after church, my mom was making popcorn on the stove. The phone rang, so she went to answer it, leaving the stove unattended. My sister and I were in a room next to the kitchen.
Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw my four-year-old brother, Spencer, walk around the corner into the kitchen. As I glanced in that direction, I heard an explosion. I saw the kitchen walls turn bright orange. My sister, Mallory, ran into the kitchen and saw that the popcorn had caught on fire. I ran in, thinking my brother was in there. He wasn’t, so I didn’t think any more about it then.
My mother grabbed the flaming pan and threw it into the sink. Luckily, she stopped herself before turning on the water, knowing that water would spread a grease fire. I grabbed the fire extinguisher and put out the flames before the curtains could catch fire.
After the shock of the fire wore off, I discovered that Spencer had been downstairs the entire time and hadn’t been in the kitchen. My sister also thought she had seen Spencer at the same time I did. I believe we were being prompted to look in that direction to protect ourselves.
During that week, I had been reading a book about a flash fire, which got me thinking of how I would react to a fire. Just days before the incident, I had checked our fire extinguisher. I thought I was being paranoid, but the prompting kept coming back for me to make sure it was working. I was prepared to grab it and operate it properly when I was faced with the fire. I am so thankful my Heavenly Father is always there for me and that I listened to the Holy Ghost.

Let me close with one last, lengthy lesson on perseverance.

On 28 July 1847, four days after his arrival in that valley, Brigham Young stood upon the spot where now rises the magnificent Salt Lake Temple and exclaimed to his companions: “Here [we will build] the Temple of our God!” (James H. Anderson, “The Salt Lake Temple,” Contributor [The Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations of Zion], no. 6, April 1893, p. 243).

Its grounds would cover an eighth of a square mile, and it would be built to stand through eternity. Who cares about the money or stone or timber or glass or gold they don’t have? So what that seeds are not even planted and the Saints are yet without homes? Why worry that crickets will soon be coming—and so will the United States Army?

They just marched forth and broke ground for the most massive, permanent, inspiring edifice they could conceive. And they would spend forty years of their lives trying to complete it.

The work seemed ill-fated from the start. The excavation for the basement required trenches twenty feet wide and sixteen feet deep, much of it through solid gravel. Just digging for the foundation alone required nine thousand man days of labor. Surely someone must have said, “A temple would be fine, but do we really need one this big?” But they kept on digging. Maybe they believed they were “laying the foundation of a great work.” In any case they worked on, “not weary in well-doing.”

And through it all Brigham Young had dreamed the dream and seen the vision. With the excavation complete and the cornerstone ceremony concluded, he said to the Saints assembled:

I do not like to prophesy much, . . . But I will venture to guess that this day, and the work we have performed on it, will long be remembered by this people, and be sounded as with a trumpet’s voice throughout the world. . . . Five years ago last July I was here, and saw in the spirit the Temple. [I stood] not ten feet from where we have laid the chief corner stone. I have not inquired what kind of a temple we should build. Why? Because it was [fully] represented before me. [Anderson, Contributor, p. 257–58]

But as Brigham Young also said, “We never began to build [any] temple without the bells of hell beginning to ring” (J.A. Widtsoe [ed.], Discourses of Brigham Young [Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 1973], p. 410). No sooner was the foundation work finished than Albert Sidney Johnston and his United States troops set out for the Salt Lake Valley intent on war with “the Mormons.” In response President Young made elaborate plans to evacuate and, if necessary, destroy the entire city behind them. But what to do about the temple whose massive excavation was already completed and its 8’ x 16’ foundational walls firmly in place? They did the only thing they could do—they filled it all back in again. Every shovelful. All that soil and gravel that had been so painstakingly removed with those nine thousand man days of labor was filled back in. When they finished, those acres looked like nothing more interesting than a field that had been plowed up and left unplanted.

When the Utah War threat had been removed, the Saints returned to their homes and painfully worked again at uncovering the foundation and removing the material from the excavated basement structure.

But then the apparent masochism of all this seemed most evident when not adobes or sandstone but massive granite boulders were selected for the basic construction material. And they were twenty miles away in Little Cottonwood Canyon. Furthermore the precise design and dimensions of every one of the thousands of stones to be used in that massive structure had to be marked out individually in the architect’s office and shaped accordingly. This was a suffocatingly slow process. Just to put one layer of the six hundred hand-sketched, individually squared, and precisely cut stones around the building took nearly three years. That progress was so slow that virtually no one walking by the temple block could ever see any progress at all.

And, of course, getting the stone from mountain to city center was a nightmare. A canal on which to convey the stone was begun and a great deal of labor and money expended on it, but it was finally aborted. Other means were tried, but oxen proved to be the only viable means of transportation. In the 1860s and ’70s always four and often six oxen in a team could be seen almost any working day of the year, toiling and tugging and struggling to pull from the quarry one monstrous block of granite, or at most two of medium size.

During that time, as if the United States Army hadn’t been enough, the Saints had plenty of other interruptions. The arrival of the railroad pulled almost all of the working force off the temple for nearly three years, and twice grasshopper invasions sent the workers into full-time summer combat with the pests. By mid-1871, fully two decades and untold misery after it had begun, the walls of the temple were barely visible above ground. Far more visible was the teamster’s route from Cottonwood, strewn with the wreckage of wagons—and dreams—unable to bear the load placed on them. The journals and histories of these teamsters are filled with accounts of broken axles, mud-mired animals, shattered sprockets, and shattered hopes. I do not have any evidence that these men swore, but surely they might have been seen turning a rather steely eye toward heaven. But they believed and kept pulling. And through all of this President Young seemed in no hurry. “The Temple will be built as soon as we are prepared to use it,” he said (Anderson,Contributor, p. 266). Indeed his vision was so lofty and his hope so broad that right in the middle of this staggering effort requiring virtually all that the Saints could seem to bear, he announced the construction of the St. George, Manti, and Logan Temples.

“Can you accomplish the work, you Latter-day Saints of these several counties?” he asked. And then in his own inimitable way he answered:

Yes; that is a question I can answer readily. You are perfectly able to do it. The question is, have you the necessary faith? Have you sufficient of the Spirit of God in your hearts to say, yes, by the help of God our Father we will erect these buildings to his name? . . . Go to now, with your might and with your means and finish this Temple. [Anderson,Contributor, p. 267]

So they squared their shoulders and stiffened their backs and went forward with their might. But when President Brigham Young died in 1877, the temple was still scarcely twenty feet above the ground. Ten years later, his successor, President John Taylor, and the temple’s original architect, Truman O. Angell, were dead as well. The side walls were just up to the square. And now the infamous Edmunds-Tucker Act had already been passed by Congress disincorporating The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. One of the effects of this law was to put the Church into receivership, whereby the U.S. marshall under a November court order seized this temple the Saints had now spent just under forty years of their lives dreaming of, working for, and praying fervently to enjoy. To all appearances, the still unfinished but increasingly magnificent structure was to be wrested at this last hour from its rightful owners and put into the hands of aliens and enemies, the very group who had often boasted that the Latter-day Saints would never be permitted to finish the building. It seemed those boasts were certain to be fulfilled. Schemes were immediately put forward to divert the intended use of the temple in ways that would desecrate its holy purpose and mock the staggering sacrifice of the Saints who had so faithfully tried to build it.

But God was with these modern children of Israel, as he always has been and always will be. They did all they could do and left the rest in his hands. And the Red Sea parted before them, and they walked through on firm, dry ground. On 6 April 1892, the Saints as a body were nearly delirious. Now, finally, here in their own valley with their own hands they had cut out of the mountains a granite monument that was to mark, after all they had gone through, the safety of the Saints and the permanence of Christ’s true church on earth for this one last dispensation. The central symbol of all that was the completed House of their God. The streets were literally jammed with people. Forty thousand of them fought their way on to the temple grounds. Ten thousand more, unable to gain entrance, scrambled to the tops of nearby buildings in hopes that some glimpse of the activities might be had. Inside the Tabernacle President Wilford Woodruff, visibly moved by the significance of the moment, said:

If there is any scene on the face of this earth that will attract the attention of the God of heaven and the heavenly host, it is the one before us today—the assembling of this people, the shout of ‘Hosanna!’ the laying of the topstone of this Temple in honor to our God. [Anderson, Contributor, p. 270]

Then, moving outside, he laid the capstone in place exactly at high noon.

In the writing of one who was there, “The scene that followed is beyond the power of language to describe.” Lorenzo Snow, beloved President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, came forward leading 40,000 Latter-day Saints in the Hosanna shout. Every hand held a handkerchief every eye was filled with tears. One said the very “ground seemed to tremble with the volume of the sound” which echoed off the tops of the mountains. “A grander or more imposing spectacle than this ceremony of laying the Temple capstone is not recorded in history” (Anderson, Contributor, p. 273). It was finally and forever finished.

Last May our oldest grandson Tanner graduated from high school. During those years he had the opportunity to participate in the special needs seminary class. He was assigned to work specifically with Alex who had both mental and physical disabilities. Every day he would walk with Alex from the high school to the Seminary building and then be his friend in the classroom as well. It just so happened that Alex and Tanner were also both in the same ward.

At the end of the school year all of the graduating seniors spoke in a special Sacrament meeting. Alex had been preparing his talk for weeks and was the first on the program to speak. When he stood at the pulpit, he was absolutely paralyzed and could say nothing. Finally, his mother stood beside him, but she couldn’t get him to say anything either. As the situation became more desperate, Tanner felt impressed to go to the pulpit. He put his arm around Alex and read the first line of his talk. Then Alex repeated it. They then continued this pattern, until Alex successfully delivered his message. The trusting hearts they had built during that school year paid dividends in that meeting.

When it was Tanner’s turn to speak, he said, “Today I want to tell you about the seminary steps.” His talk went something like this:

“Every day I walked Alex up the steps to the Seminary building. One day he fell and hurt himself. He was so discouraged that he just sat on the stairs and said he couldn’t go on. I urged him and nudged him and encouraged him, telling him that I would help him make it up those steps and that it would be worth it because of all the fun things the teacher had prepared for us in class that day. Finally, I got him to class. The next day the same thing happened, and I had to encourage and help him all over again. And there were many subsequent days that he sat on the stairs fearful that he would stumble and hurt himself again. But he learned to walk with a more courageous heart, and we made it, day by day. Now we are graduating and moving on to new things.

“Today I feel somewhat like Alex on those seminary steps. In my heart, I feel scared to go on. I’ve come from many good experiences at the high school and made it through challenging classes. Now I have some steps to climb to get to the next level, to go to college, to serve a mission, to be ordained to the Melchizedek priesthood, etc. I need courage.; I need help. Sometimes I don’t know how I am going to do it. But then I remember that I have family, friends, leaders, bishops, many people who will be there to urge and encourage me on. And especially I will have a loving Heavenly Father and power from His Son Jesus Christ that will strengthen my heart and help me climb every step of the way.”