Gospel Story Finder

There is the story of two neighboring farmers—one a habitual Sabbath breaker, and the other a faithful observer of the Lord’s day. On one occasion the Sabbath observer severely chastised his neighbor for working his farm on Sundays rather than attending to his religious devotions. This led to an argument and a challenge. “Let us put the matter to a test,” the Sabbath breaker said. “We will select two pieces of ground of equal size and fertility. On them we will plant the same crop. My piece of ground I will work on Sundays, and you will work yours on the other days of the week. Then we will see who gets the greater harvest.”

The challenge was accepted and the conditions were faithfully observed. As the harvest was gathered in, the Sabbath-observing farmer was disappointed to learn that the piece of ground farmed by his neighbor had produced the greater yield. The Sabbath breaker exulted in his apparent triumph and his discrediting of the contention of his faithful neighbor.

“You have forgotten one important thing,” protested the Sabbath observer. “The Lord doesn’t always settle his accounts in October.”

Appreciating my ward sisters. For the first two years after my divorce, I was surrounded by supportive and loving friends in the Relief Society presidency. They cried with me, they laughed with me, and I felt close to them. Through my calling I became aware of some of the needs of my ward sisters, and giving service to them helped me keep my perspective and find healing within my own heart.
Other blessings came. My friends in the presidency, worried about my first Valentine’s Day without my husband, sent a beautifully wrapped gift, which was waiting for me when I arrived home from work. Another time they made me “queen for a day.” I was asked to attend an early-morning meeting. When I arrived, a sister was waiting to do my nails. A couple of friends came to do my hair. Then I was told we were going to lunch and out shopping. They purchased a new outfit for me, the first I’d had since the divorce. My heart overflowed, and I felt the Savior’s love through the actions of these sisters.

As you approach old age, you will face new challenges to self-mastery. Symptoms of the deteriorating body can be painful, even disabling. Deep aches of sadness are caused by the departing of loved ones. For some, these deepening trials come early in life. But when yours are thrust upon you, remember a concept expressed by my father some time after my mother had passed away. Your grandparents had been married for sixty-four years. When someone asked how he was doing, my father simply stated, “I’m lonely, but I’m not lonesome.” Do you know what he meant? Though he was now without his sweetheart, he was so busy assisting family and friends, he had replaced sorrow with service and had displaced self-pity with selfless love. He had found joy in following the timeless example of the Master.

As a newlywed and a fairly new member of the Church, I moved to England with my husband. Although I had learned some English in school, my heavy Japanese accent made my English difficult to understand, and the British accent was difficult for me to decipher.
My husband and I were members of the Church, but we were not fully converted when we got married. We always went home after sacrament meeting instead of remaining at church for the other meetings. We did not want to receive any Church callings.
One day, to help me become more involved in Church activities, a Relief Society leader called and asked if I would share some things about myself at the next weeknight Relief Society meeting. I agreed to participate, but because of my limited English, I did not understand that I was supposed to bring some things to display.
When I arrived at the meeting, I immediately realized what I had been expected to do. Three tables were set up with tablecloths and flowers on them. An overhead sign read, “Getting to Know Sisters.” One of the tables was labeled “Sister Tuckett.” But I had brought nothing to put on my table. I tried to hide the tears forming in my eyes.
I already felt sad whenever I attended sacrament meeting because I did not fully understand what was being spoken. I often thought, “Why am I here?” So when I arrived at that Relief Society meeting and realized my mistake, I felt that I should not attend church anymore. I wished I could disappear, but I had to tell the Relief Society leader I wasn’t prepared.
“Excuse me,” I said. “I didn’t understand, and I don’t have anything to put on my table.”
She looked at me with the kindest expression and said, “It doesn’t matter—I’m just glad you are here.” Then she gave me a hug.
I felt comforted, and the Spirit told me that what she had said was a message from Heavenly Father—that He loved me and was glad I was there. I didn’t understand English very well, but the Spirit enabled me to understand her message.
Because of this feeling, my resolve immediately changed. I told myself, “If Heavenly Father loves me that much and wants me to come to church, I will, no matter how difficult it is.”
From that point on, my husband and I attended every Church meeting. I also determined to learn English. Gradually, I understood English better and learned to speak it.
I am grateful for the sister who delivered a message from Heavenly Father at that crucial point in my life. Now, 15 years later, I serve in the district Relief Society presidency in an English-speaking district in Japan and have received training by the Church to become a translator.

When I was dating, I saw many scenarios where the worth of others was based on appearance. It made me sad to see how some of my friends went on fewer dates than those who seemed to fit the world’s beauty standards. And, unfortunately, in my own quest for an eternal companion, I also had my own checklist of traits—including physical ones—that I was looking for in a future husband.
Eventually, I did find someone to marry in the temple. And in the beginning, I thought we had a wonderful marriage. But I started noticing that my husband would boast to others about how he had married the prettiest girl in the room, and yet he couldn’t ever seem to say anything nice about my appearance privately. He always commented if my weight changed and told me how to do my hair and how to dress.
A few months after I had our first child, my husband unexpectedly said he wanted a divorce. I hadn’t even known something was wrong. Despite my best efforts, he couldn’t be persuaded to work on saving our marriage, and I was left a single mother.
Later, I discovered he had been involved with another woman while we were still married, and I was astounded to find that she looked just like me but was a few years younger and didn’t have any of the changes that came with carrying and delivering a baby. I began wondering why I wasn’t good enough and focusing on my physical flaws.
As I pondered the meaning of true beauty, I found a quote that contrasted with the world’s view of the matter: “Amid ‘all of the deception’ that may initially occur in dating—including always looking our best—we should remember that appearance and style ‘are essentially unessential.’”1
This helped me understand that seeing each other’s spirits, or what’s on the inside, is what is truly important in finding a spouse and is the key to loving others and ourselves. As disciples of Jesus Christ, we should be focusing on strength of character and on our identities as divine spirits.
My divorce hurt me a lot, but it also gave me a chance to reevaluate the meaning of true beauty and divine worth. If you are struggling to recognize your divine worth or that of others, consider the following tips, which helped me reframe my perspective.

You recall the Prophet Joseph Smith’s experience with darkness and light in the Sacred Grove. President Lorenzo Snow (1814–1901) wrote of an experience of his own:

“Some two or three weeks after I was baptized … I began to reflect upon the fact that I had not obtained a knowledge of the truth of the work … , and I began to feel very uneasy. I laid aside my books, left the house, and wandered around through the fields under the oppressive influence of a gloomy, disconsolate spirit, while an indescribable cloud of darkness seemed to envelop me. I had been accustomed, at the close of the day, to retire for secret prayer, to a grove a short distance from my lodgings, but at this time I felt no inclination to do so. The spirit of prayer had departed and the heavens seemed like brass over my head. At length, realizing that the usual time had come for secret prayer, I concluded I would not forego my evening service, and, as a matter of formality, knelt as I was in the habit of doing, and in my accustomed retired place, but not feeling as I was wont to feel.

“I had no sooner opened my lips in an effort to pray, than I heard a sound, just above my head, like the rustling of silken robes, and immediately the Spirit of God descended upon me, completely enveloping my whole person, filling me, from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet, and O, the joy and happiness I felt! No language can describe the almost instantaneous transition from a dense cloud of mental and spiritual darkness into a refulgence of light and knowledge, as it was at that time imparted to my understanding. I then received a perfect knowledge that God lives, that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, and of the restoration of the holy Priesthood, and the fulness of the Gospel. …

“… That night, as I retired to rest, the same wonderful manifestations were repeated, and continued to be for several successive nights. The sweet remembrance of those glorious experiences, from that time to the present, bring them fresh before me, imparting an inspiring influence which pervades my whole being, and I trust will to the close of my earthly existence.”

With flexible, low-cost online courses available through BYU-Pathway Worldwide, obtaining an education is possible for more people than ever, including Samantha Winterdal.
Samantha, from the Dominican Republic, always planned to go to university, but her plans didn’t work out the way she envisioned. After high school, she got a job but felt like something was missing. “Every year that passed, I saw my schoolmates graduating, and I was just working,” Samantha said. “I thought, ‘What am I doing with my life?’”
She decided to pray for guidance. One Sunday, a sister from church mentioned BYU–Pathway to her. Samantha registered and began her first course. Although she couldn’t complete it at that time, she returned to BYU–Pathway years later to resume her studies.
When Samantha was ready to start classes again during the COVID-19 pandemic, she enrolled at a local university. However, the school wasn’t designed to run online and wasn’t accommodating of her schedule, so she left. With the encouragement of her husband, Mario, she decided to go back to BYU–Pathway—she loved it so much that Mario enrolled too!
“We love the flexibility of BYU–Pathway because it allows us to work and take care of my 94-year-old grandfather, who has cancer,” Samantha said. “I know that I will continue to climb to the work level I want, and it will also help me with my own business.”

One day in May the citizens of that last great earthly kingdom got together to visit their inheritance from the Moslem kingdom of Granada. The young men and women of the Granada Branch went to the Alhambra. They passed through the Pomegranate Gate, the woods, the Gate of Justice, the Court of the Cisterns, the Wine Gate, the Esplanade, and into the Alcazares, the royal palace of the Caliphs of Granada.
They found chamber after chamber of exquisite beauty. The walls and ceilings were decorated in a lacy filigree of plaster, as lovely as ivory. The plaster writhes and vibrates with flowers, leaves, Arabic poetry, Koranic quotations, and interweaving arabesques of pure design. Many walls are also bright with mosaic tile.
They passed through the court of the Myrtals where a long pool reflects a fantasy of arches and pillars and the Court of the Lions where 124 slender pillars surround a fountain supported by 12 stone lions who spurt water from their mouths. Reflected in the fountain, ornate archwork bursts from the tops of the pillars.
The young men and women explored a fairyland of courts, chambers, and patios with such intriguing names as the Hall of Secrets, Hall of the Boat, Hall of Kings, Court of the Cypresses, and the Royal Baths, each a wonderland opening onto other wonderlands.
Decorated as they are in the perishable medium of plaster, these halls were clearly not built as a monument to the ages, but as the tribute to present beauty—beauty that has defied the ravages of time and lingered down the ages as fresh and sweet as when birds first sang outside the windows of Caliph and courtiers.
For a long while the young people wandered through the cool halls and passageways where pillars grow in forests of airy delight, full of sunlight and shadow. Intricately carved stalactites of wood and plaster hang from ceilings as if from some enchanted cavern. Subtle breezes and silvery echoes, the hush of leaves and rippling waves of light eddy about pools of shadow and silence. Through lacy windows in the outside walls could be seen sun-wrapped Granada and the gypsy caves of Sacromonte. From geometric portals cut in domes high overhead, sunlight speared down in shafts of glory.
It was hard to imagine a palace more delightful than this, and yet a splendid melancholy seemed to brood over the whole scene, a delicious yearning for magical times past. There was, as the poet Angel Ganivet once said, a “profound sadness that emanates from a deserted palace, forsaken by its inhabitants, imprisoned in the impalpable thread woven by the spirit of destruction, that invisible spider whose feet are dreams.”
After sharing their testimonies and finishing their visit to the palace complex, the group passed through the palace of Carlos V and then into the military fortifications known as the Alcasabar, which rear their battlements on the brow of the hill. They climbed to the top of the Watchtower, whose bell was rung of old at times of alarm or celebration. Ringed all about by the wild and ancient sky, they gazed southward at the mounting Sierra Nevadas and all around them at the rose and alabaster glory of Granada. Rinsed and burnished and transfigured by the high, fierce Andalusian sun, it seemed to be a glimpse of the afterlife Muhammad had promised the devout.
Next the young men and women passed into the Generalife—the exquisite series of gardens on the slope above the Alhambra, a world of green and shadow rich in roses, oleanders, rhododendrons, and lofty cypresses, and everywhere the song of water.
The waters speak, and they weep
Beneath the white oleanders;
Beneath the rose oleanders,
The waters weep and they sing
For the myrtle in bloom
Above the opaque waters.
Madness of singing and crying,
Of the souls, of the tears!
These lines by Juan Ramón Jimenez capture the beauty and mystery of these beautiful gardens. Among the white buildings, the dignified towers, the hedges, and the flowerbeds are some of the world’s most beautiful fountains. They are not spectacular or large. They are not adorned with beautiful statuary. But in them is perfected the charm of the simple elegance of water, delicate and refreshing and musical, made by a people with a desert heritage who knew how to value water as something precious in its own right.
The youths wandered through a storybook realm of flowers and hedges and pools and pavilions, where caliphs once strolled in the cool of the evening. Symphonies have been written about the Generalife, but none is more beautiful than the place itself. The sun-entangled trees brought to mind the words of Federico García Lorca:
How hard it is for the daylight
To take its leave of Granada!
It entangles itself in the cypress
Or hides beneath the water.
Earthly days pass even more swiftly than earthly kingdoms, and the young people finished their visit to the Alhambra and returned to their homes.

Brigham Young, like many other early Mormons, traveled hundreds of miles to meet the man whose revelations had already profoundly changed his life. With his closest friend and fellow craftsman, Heber C. Kimball, he went from Mendon, New York, to Kirtland, Ohio, and found the Prophet felling trees and chopping wood behind his father’s home, where he was living: “Here my joy was full at the privilege of shaking the hand of the Prophet of God, and received the sure testimony, by the Spirit of prophecy, that he was all that any man could believe him to be, as a true prophet.”3 From that first handclasp Brigham began to be bound, heart, mind, and spirit to Joseph, whom he came to accept without reservation not only as the spokesman for God in his generation but as his own most powerful, personal model among men. In a letter to a non-Mormon friend he had known in Port Byron in the 1820s, he wrote, nearly ten years after Joseph Smith was killed:
“In 1833 I moved to Ohio where I became acquainted with Joseph Jr. and remained familiarly acquainted with him in private councils and in his public work and acts until the day of his death, and I can truly say that I invariably found him to be all that any people could require a true prophet to be, and that a better man could not be. …”4

Several decades ago I was serving as a bishop. Over an extended period I met with a man in our ward who was many years my senior. This brother had a troubled relationship with his wife and was estranged from their children. He struggled to keep employment, had no close friends, and found interaction with ward members so difficult he finally was unwilling to serve in the Church. During one intense discussion about the challenges in his life, he leaned toward me—as his conclusion to our numerous talks—and said, “Bishop, I have a bad temper, and that’s just the way I am!”

That statement stunned me that night and has haunted me ever since. Once this man decided—once any of us conclude—“That’s just the way I am,” we give up our ability to change. We might as well raise the white flag, put down our weapons, concede the battle, and just surrender—any prospect of winning is lost. While some of us may think that does not describe us, perhaps every one of us demonstrates by at least one or two bad habits, “That’s just the way I am.”

Shortly after my mission, while a student at Brigham Young University, I received a phone call from my dad. He told me that he had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and that although his chances of survival were not good, he was determined to be healed and return to his normal life activities. That phone call was a sobering moment for me. My dad had been my bishop, my friend, and my adviser. As my mother, my siblings, and I contemplated the future, it appeared bleak. My younger brother, Dave, was serving a mission in New York and participated long-distance in these difficult family events.
The medical providers of the day suggested surgery to try and curtail the spread of the cancer. Our family earnestly fasted and prayed for a miracle. I felt that we had sufficient faith that my father could be healed. Just prior to the surgery, my older brother, Norm, and I gave my dad a blessing. With all the faith we could muster, we prayed that he would be healed.
The surgery was scheduled to last many hours, but after just a short time, the doctor came to the waiting room to meet with our family. He told us that as they began the surgery, they could see that the cancer had spread throughout my father’s body. Based upon what they observed, my father had just a few months to live. We were devastated.
As my father awakened from the surgery, he was anxious to learn if the procedure had been successful. We shared with him the grim news.
We continued to fast and pray for a miracle. As my father’s health quickly declined, we began to pray that he could be free of pain. Eventually, as his condition worsened, we asked the Lord to allow him to pass quickly. Just a few months after the surgery, as predicted by the surgeon, my father did pass away.
Much love and care were poured out upon our family by ward members and family friends. We had a beautiful funeral that honored the life of my father. As time passed, however, and we experienced the pain of my father’s absence, I began to wonder why my father had not been healed. I wondered if my faith was not strong enough. Why did some families receive a miracle, but our family did not? I had learned on my mission to turn to the scriptures for answers, so I began to search the scriptures.
Moroni brings additional understanding as he shares the words of his father, Mormon. After speaking of miracles, Mormon explains, “And Christ hath said: If ye will have faith in me ye shall have power to do whatsoever thing is expedient in me.” I learned that the object of my faith must be Jesus Christ and that I needed to accept what was expedient to Him as I exercised faith in Him. I understand now that my father’s passing was expedient to God’s plan. Now, as I lay my hands upon the head of another to bless him or her, my faith is in Jesus Christ, and I understand that a person can and will be physically healed if it is expedient in Christ.
But here is the greater lesson I learned. I had mistakenly believed that the Savior’s healing power had not worked for my family. As I now look back with more mature eyes and experience, I see that the Savior’s healing power was evident in the lives of each of my family members. I was so focused on a physical healing that I failed to see the miracles that had occurred. The Lord strengthened and lifted my mother beyond her capacity through this difficult trial, and she led a long and productive life. She had a remarkable positive influence on her children and grandchildren. The Lord blessed me and my siblings with love, unity, faith, and resilience that became an important part of our lives and continues today.
But what about my dad? As with all who will repent, he was spiritually healed as he sought and received the blessings available because of the Savior’s Atonement. He received a remission of his sins and now awaits the miracle of the Resurrection. The Apostle Paul taught, “For as in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive.” You see, I was saying to the Savior, “We brought my dad to You to be healed,” and it is now clear to me that the Savior did heal him. The balm of Gilead worked for the Nielson family—not in the way that we had supposed, but in an even more significant way that has blessed and continues to bless our lives.

When I was growing up, young men went on missions when they were twenty years old. Not all young men were expected to go on missions, as they are today. My father had always hoped that I would go on a mission, and he had encouraged me several times. But as I got older, I wondered, Is that really what I want to do?
My priests quorum advisor, Dale Waite, was a great example and a wonderful teacher. We boys all thought he was terrific. One time he took us to a ward outing at a swimming resort. We had a good time swimming, playing volleyball, and just enjoying being together. That night we piled into Brother Waite’s car to go home—the car sure was full! Full of good memories of the evening’s activities, we were starting up the old highway in the dark of night, when Brother Waite asked, “Did any of you hear the First Presidency’s announcement today?”
None of us had; we were all ears. Brother Waite told us, “The First Presidency has announced that young men can be called on missions at nineteen years of age.” When he said that, the Spirit of the Lord came over me, filling me from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet. I knew that the message was, “You are going on a mission.” I had never had that kind of experience before, but the feeling that I was to go on a mission never left me.
When I was old enough, I was called to serve in Germany. I loved everything about my mission. It was a turning point for me. I came to love Heavenly Father, His Son, and the gospel as never before, and I loved to hear the word of God preached. I came to love the scriptures; I loved reading them and understanding them. I found that the General Authorities who came to see us in the mission field were men of God and had great power to change people’s lives. I saw people accept the gospel and repent and be baptized and be filled with joy.
When I came home from my mission, it was with the firm resolve that I would never be the same—and I never have been. And all of that happened because a priests quorum advisor stayed close to the young men in his quorum, taught them the gospel, and helped them learn in a very simple way that they could go on missions and be touched by the Spirit of the Lord.

I affirm to you, my young brethren and sisters, that that principle of revelation is a constantly operative principle, and I close with one other experience.
I was organizing a stake in Samoa. There appeared before us in the interviews these wonderful Samoan brethren. One of them, a branch president, stood there—white shirt and tie, lava-lava tied around his waist, barefooted. I told him we were organizing a stake and seeking a stake president and asking his suggestions on men. He said, “Yes, I know. I’ve prayed about this.” And he said, “I’ve come to know, by the voice of the Spirit, that Bishop Iona will be our new stake president.”
He was right. But I wasn’t anxious to have him make the announcement and so pressed him for another name.
He said, “No, just one name.” And I said, “Suppose he were not available or not eligible? Won’t you suggest another name?” He stood there for a few minutes, and then, looking at me, he said, “Elder Packer, are you asking me to go against the witness of the Spirit?” This wonderful man was possessed of that Spirit, as all of us can be, each of us answering the calls that come.

The Church is one of Sue’s greatest sources of guidance and comfort. At youth conference, the bishop challenged all the youth to pray for confirmation that the Church was true even if they already had a testimony.
Sue accepted the challenge although she had some reservations. “I felt I didn’t need to ask because I know the Church is true. But I wanted to tell my friends about my testimony before I graduated. They sometimes tease me about being a Mormon.”
Sue did pray, but the answer didn’t seem to come in a big way. Then she and some friends had to drive to the next town to have their pictures taken for graduation. Suddenly, she was in the middle of an intense conversation about the Church with a receptive friend. The friend asked, “How do you know that it is true, Sue?”
“All of a sudden it dawned on me that Heavenly Father was giving me an opportunity to say that I do know the Church is true. Here I was bearing my testimony, telling her this is the truth. It didn’t hit me until that night that it was the answer to my prayers.
The friend then asked if she could go to church with the Keller family. Soon she was attending seminary with Sue and receiving the discussions from the missionaries. “That’s been the greatest,” Sue said. “I’ve never done that with a friend before.”

“Oh dear! It looks like I’ll have to go to the store,” Aunt Mabel suddenly announced as she closed the refrigerator door.
“But it’s snowing, and the wind is howling,” Annie said. She’d just been looking out the window of Aunt Mabel’s cozy farmhouse.
“But I must go—my refrigerator and cupboards are bare.” Aunt Mabel sounded determined.
Annie was spending a few weeks on Aunt Mabel’s farm. The early snowstorm had been sudden and unexpected. The snow was being whipped around by a wind that sounded quite fierce! It was hard to see anything but snow out the window. Annie got a worried expression on her face.
“We’ll just get all bundled up and make our way through the storm—like the pioneers did. On a farm, one has to keep the pioneer spirit alive,” Aunt Mabel continued as she helped Annie put on her jacket and boots.
The pioneer spirit? Annie’s face took on a look of determination. If Aunt Mabel had the pioneer spirit, she would have it too. “Are we going in your pickup truck?” Annie asked as they headed out the door.
“No, sweetie. We’ll walk.”
Walk? Annie thought. Walking will require a lot of pioneer spirit. “I’m ready if you are, Aunt Mabel.”
“You’re a brave girl. Just for that we’ll bring back an extra special dessert,” Aunt Mabel promised, opening the door.
The snow swirled in the wind. Though it was freezing cold, Annie couldn’t help noticing how beautiful it looked.
Aunt Mabel walked around the side of the house. Annie followed, fighting the strong wind that seemed determined to rip her scarf right off her neck!
Aunt Mabel pulled open a large door in the ground.
Annie stared. What was she doing?
“Come on, sweetie. Follow me to my store. Watch these steps—they’re a bit steep,” Aunt Mabel cautioned. Annie held on to the railing as she followed. At the bottom of the stairs Aunt Mabel pulled a string. A light came on.
“Wow!” Annie exclaimed. “A store right in your yard!” There were rows upon rows of shelves bulging with rows upon rows of jars! Jars filled with colorful fruits and vegetables—green beans, corn, peas, pickles, jams, peaches, pears, applesauce, and more.
On the dirt floor were boxes filled with carrots, potatoes, onions, cabbages, and apples. Practically any kind of food one could find in a grocery store was right there in Aunt Mabel’s cellar!
“All summer, while my garden is producing, I work hard stocking my store. Then when winter arrives, I can relax with a good book—or with my favorite niece—and enjoy it,” Aunt Mabel said.
“Are those watermelons in the corner?” Annie asked in amazement.
“They certainly are. Those are the last melons from my garden. I coated them with paraffin, which is like candle wax. That way, if I’m lucky, they’ll keep into early winter.”
They filled two boxes with both canned and fresh fruits and vegetables and carried them up to the house. Annie’s box had potatoes, carrots, and apples in it. Aunt Mabel took jars of other fruits and vegetables. Then Aunt Mabel rushed out to the cellar again and came back up with a watermelon in her arms. “Our special dessert,” she said, smiling at Annie.
Back in the cozy, warm kitchen, Aunt Mabel and Annie soon filled the refrigerator and cupboards.
A pair of headlights shone through the kitchen window. Angie looked out. “Someone in a blue truck is here.”
A man came to the door. “Come in, John,” Aunt Mabel told him.
“I’m on my way to town. I just stopped to see if you might need something. You know that my truck has four-wheel drive. It’ll make it through anything.”
“Thank you, John. I certainly do appreciate your stopping by, but we don’t need a thing. In fact, I just brought up a watermelon from my store. It’s too big for the two of us—this is my niece Annie, who’s visiting me from the city—so won’t you take some home with you?”
“What a treat! Thank you.” He turned and smiled at Annie. “Hello there, young lady. It looks like you’re getting a taste of our country winter.”
“Yes, but I’m not worried about it. We have Aunt Mabel’s store, right in the cellar. And we have the pioneer spirit. We can make it through anything.”

There are two ways the Thordersons learned this lesson: one, because they are all different from each other, and two, because as members of the Church, they are very different from most of their friends.
With six kids in a family, you can hardly expect them to all have the same likes or dislikes, virtues or vices. Sometimes this makes getting along with each other difficult, but in the Thorderson family, having different talents was encouraged. Jim said, “Our parents always let us do what we were interested in, like when Kurt wanted to be a photographer, he worked to earn a camera and they helped him. They always helped us pursue what we wanted to do.”
Consequently, Eric, Kurt, and Jim, the three oldest, have grown up to be very different people. Eric is a businessman, Kurt is doing a residency to get his M.D., and Jim is making a name for himself as an artist. But these differences have never stopped them from having a good time with each other. For instance, the year before Jim went on his mission, all three of them played on the basketball team at Wayne State University in Detroit. They know from this and many other experiences that being different doesn’t mean they can’t be friends.
And all of the Thordersons know that being different because of their values is more than all right—it’s the way to set a good example for others around you. Kurt said, “While we were growing up, Eric and I were the only LDS students in our high school, and we were in a graduating class of about 650. And then when I went to Wayne State, the only other Latter-day Saints out of 30,000 people were Eric and Dad (he works as an administrator there). It was hard, but it also made me stand up for what I believe.”
The Thordersons went to seminary at 6:00 A.M. throughout high school, and they all talk about what a great program it is. “Early morning seminary, I think, was a big boost for us,” said Kurt. “It really takes a lot of commitment to go, and I think it’s worth it.” Nels, the fifth child, who is on a mission in Salt Lake City, said, “It starts your day out right to see your Church friends early in the morning before school starts.”
Jed, who is 13, hasn’t started seminary yet, but the example of his older brothers and sister has inspired him to read the Book of Mormon each morning before school with his mother. They read one chapter a day, and they have already read through the book three times. Because of this experience, Jed is sure he’ll have no trouble getting up for seminary when the time comes. As the youngest of this clan he has probably benefited the most from the 3F formula because it was well established by the time he came along. “I think all of these big brothers are great—I get to wear all of their old clothes!” he laughs. You don’t have to ask Jed twice if he thinks the 3F formula works. He has learned its power through example, and it’s not a lesson he’s likely to forget.
So, now that you’ve met the Thordersons, do you believe the formula works?
Maybe you think, yeah, I guess they have a pretty good time together, but I still don’t understand how that little 3F thing can make such a difference.
Well, to tell the truth, it’s not the formula that makes the difference. The formula is just a reminder of the results that come when you apply the truths the Thordersons learned. Add some of your own activities, too. Things like going to your brother’s football game, or living the principles you learn in seminary, or laughing at your little sister’s corny elementary school jokes are what makes the 3F formula work. Those things have more power to change your earthly and heavenly home than you imagine. The 3F formula is powerful—you’ll have a lot of fun with it if you give it a try. Just ask the Thordersons, who are living proof; they’ll tell you they’re working on the 4F formula, too. That’s family = friends = fun = forever.

I was born in the town of Sharon, Windsor County, Vermont, on the 23rd of December, A.D. 1805. When ten years old, my parents moved to Palmyra, New York, where we resided about four years, and from thence, we moved to the town of Manchester. My father was a farmer and taught me the art of taking care of animals. When about fourteen years of age, I began to reflect upon the importance of being prepared for a future state, and upon inquiring about the plan of salvation, I found that there was a great clash in religious sentiment; if I went to one society, they referred me to one plan, and another to another; each one pointing to his own particular creed as the supreme good from which all others are derived of perfection. Considering that all could not be right, and that God could not be the author of so much confusion, I determined to investigate the subject more fully, believing that if God had a Church, it would not be split up into factions, and that if He taught one society to worship one way, and administer in one set of ordinances. He would not teach another, principles which were diametrically opposed.
Believing the word of God, I had confidence in the declaration of James—“If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him.” (James 1:5.) I retired to a secret place in a grove, and began to call upon the Lord, while fervently engaged in supplication, my mind was taken away from the objects with which I was surrounded, and I was enwrapped in a heavenly vision, and saw two glorious personages, who exactly resembled each other in features and likeness, surrounded with a brilliant light which eclipsed the sun at noon day. They told me that all religious denominations were believing in incorrect doctrines, and that none of them was acknowledged of God as His Church and kingdom: and I was expressly commanded “to go not after them,” at the same time receiving a promise that the fullness of the Gospel should at some future time be made known unto me.

I have a good friend who was struggling in his spiritual life. He is a good person, but he was drifting into inactivity in the Church. His testimony was wavering. He was struggling to break his bad habit of swearing. He’d watch violent movies and spend time playing violent video games. I really wanted to help him, but I wasn’t sure how.
One Sunday during testimony meeting, a priest in our ward spoke of a scripture that had helped him in a time of doubt and confusion: “Verily, verily, I say unto you, if you desire a further witness, cast your mind upon the night that you cried unto me in your heart, that you might know concerning the truth of these things. Did I not speak peace to your mind concerning the matter? What greater witness can you have than from God? And now, behold, you have received a witness” (D&C 6:22–24).
I thought this scripture might help my friend. So in class on Monday I wrote down the scripture and suggested he read it. The next day he thanked me, telling me he had read it and that it had helped a lot.
But he hadn’t told me half of it. A few days later, he told me just how this scripture had affected him. He told me that his mind had been continually turning to violent thoughts and that it was almost beyond his control. It was also beginning to become more difficult to control his actions. When he read the scripture I gave him, he got rid of his worst video games.
I was astonished at what my friend told me. Although he is still striving to put his life back in order, that one scripture I shared helped him a great deal at the time he needed it most. I know that if you are always a good example and you follow the promptings of the Holy Spirit, you will be able to help others grow closer to Heavenly Father.

Ivanna: I don’t think of the commandments as restrictive or hard. Instead, I see the blessings that come from them, especially the Word of Wisdom. In Ukraine, a lot of teenagers drink alcohol. I work at a horse stable, and when coworkers offer me alcohol, I tell them I don’t drink. This hasn’t made them think any less of me. I stood my ground and didn’t fall into temptation. I know I am not alone. Heavenly Father supports me whenever I have troubles.

I chose another hero in that little branch of the Church. He was a United States Marine who came to our meetings wearing his green marine uniform. It was wartime, so that alone made him my hero. He had been sent to Princeton University by the marines to further his education. But far more than admiring his military uniform, I watched him play in Palmer Stadium as captain of the Princeton University football team. I saw him play on the university basketball team and also watched him play as the star catcher on their baseball team.
But even more, he came to my home during the week to show me how to shoot a basketball with both my left and my right hand. He told me that I would need that skill because I would someday play basketball on good teams. I did not realize it then, but for years he was, for me, a model of a true priesthood man.