Gospel Story Finder

Thank you for the article “No Laughing Matter” (June 1994). I have had a very similar incident happen to me at school when a girl from my gym class saw me reading the Book of Mormon before school. She told a number of her friends and they all bowed to me in class and taunted me. It made me ashamed until, just like the girl in the story, I realized that it didn’t really matter as long as I was doing what was right. Thanks for the reassurance.
Debbie WilliamsSalem, Oregon

Recently a mother told me her family had moved from a rural, scattered ward where, of necessity, activities were consolidated into one weekday night. It was wonderful. They had time for their family. I can see them sitting around the table together.

They moved west into a larger ward where members were closer to the chapel. She said, “Now our family is scheduled Tuesday night, Wednesday night, Thursday night, Friday night, Saturday night, and Sunday night. It is very hard on our family.”

Some fine carpenters from Norway who arrived and settled in Manti were given the assignment of building the roof for the temple. They had never built a roof structure before, but they had experience as shipbuilders. They didn’t know how they would design a roof. Then the thought came to them: “Why don’t we just build a ship? Then, because a well-built ship is solid and secure, if we turn the plans upside down, we’ll have a secure roof.” They set about to plan to construct a ship, and when it was completed, they turned the plan upside down and it became the plan for the roof of the Manti Temple.

Missionaries of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints knocked on the door of Richard Marson in May 2023, and he abruptly told them he didn’t have time for them and to go away. After returning inside his home, he recalled that he had a powerful impression conveyed to his heart- “you are making one of the biggest mistakes of your life.” He went back outside and called to the missionaries, apologized, and asked them to come in. He then began his journey to learn more about the gospel of Jesus Christ.
He said “Not long ago, I was praying and felt the presence of our Saviour Jesus Christ saying simply, ‘You have come back to me’– it was overwhelmingly clear and powerful. I think this is because as a boy I always had firm belief in Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ but drifted from them around the age of 13/14”.
His contact with the missionaries in May also changed the direction of his life, and he was baptised four months later. He said, “What is extraordinary to me is the revelation that this is the true church. I might easily have been promoted to re-embrace my (former) Christian faith after the initial contact with the missionaries but as I studied and got to know more and more about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I just found it to be right and true– the testimony of Joseph Smith and the early prophets, the glorious nature of the Book of Mormon– and the blessing of our living prophet. I love the accountability which comes with the covenants we are asked to make, the focus on service, self-discipline, and sacrifice.”

Harold B. Lee learned to recognize the Spirit at an early age. One day he started toward some rundown sheds, but a voice called his name and told him not to go there. Harold obeyed. He continued to follow the Spirit throughout his life, such as when he led the Church Welfare Program. He also led the Church department that developed learning materials to help members recognize the Spirit in their own lives.

I was blessed with a strong testimony of and love for the gospel at a young age, but I don’t recall one defining moment when I knew serving a mission was right. I just always knew I would go. I set a goal early to live in a way that would qualify me to serve a mission.
When I began preparing my mission application, I fasted, prayed, and attended the temple. As I worked with my bishop, I continued to feel the peace I had felt throughout my life about serving a mission.
The process was difficult at times: life seemed to suddenly get more expensive, and school and work became more demanding. I was at college away from my family, and it seemed as though all my friends were getting married. It was scary to realize the people I cared about were going to continue changing while I was gone.
Because I didn’t have any singular spiritual event that confirmed my decision to serve, it was easy to doubt when things got hard. But the Lord blessed me after I received my call to the Chile Santiago East Mission to develop a love for the people in my mission, even before I left. I now have a lifetime of experiences that have borne testimony that a mission was a good choice for me.
Madeleine Bailey

After high school graduation David couldn’t wait to turn 19 and send in his mission papers. His doctor attached a note verifying he was totally independent.
But it was not to be. Instead of a calling, David’s letter informed him he could not serve a full-time proselyting mission.
“I was crushed,” says David. “I had worked so hard, and it seemed it was all taken away from me in just a matter of seconds.” But David didn’t quit. In an interview at Church headquarters, he was assured there was a mission for him.
One week later he was called to serve a welfare mission at the Deseret Industries (D.I.) in St. George, Utah, while living at home with his parents. David was not prepared for such a call. “To tell the truth, I was disappointed again,” he says. But he kept thinking of the words to a Primary song: “I will go; I will do” (“Nephi’s Courage,” Children’s Songbook, 120–21). He realized the Lord wanted him to serve at Deseret Industries, a Church-owned thrift store and job-training facility. At D.I. David would help those who were working to gain and improve their job skills.
“I look back now and think how foolish I was. I had no clue what a blessing this mission would be,” David says.
Not only has David been blessed, but his sense of humor and positive attitude touched more than 250 people he worked with through D.I.’s self-sufficiency and missionary programs. “Whenever we were having a bad day, we would just come and find Elder Eves,” says Debbie Kelly, a trainee. “When we saw how happy and positive he was, even in a wheelchair, we would ask ourselves, ‘What are we complaining about?’”

Ten years ago this October, while speaking in the priesthood meeting of general conference, I shared the following experience. One day
my son Ben came to me and said, “Dad, we are going to hold our family reunion this summer at Flaming Gorge recreation area” (a distance of 220 miles east of Salt Lake City). “Why don’t you, myself, and any of the boys in our family that would like to leave a few days early, ride our bikes to Flaming Gorge, and meet the rest of the family there?”
I said, “That sounds great, but we only have one motorcycle!”
Ben said, “No, Dad, you [don’t understand.] I mean pedal bicycles.” I thought he was kidding. He said, “I will outline and prepare a training schedule for us. We’ll get up early Saturday mornings and for three hours we’ll go out and ride over the courses I will outline, so that when the time comes we will be prepared to go.”
I said, “Okay,” not really knowing what I was in for. I didn’t own a bicycle and knew I would have to use my daughter’s old, heavy, ten-speed bicycle with what seemed like bent wheels and a seat that was terribly hard. I also knew that getting up early on Saturday mornings was not one of my favorite things. But knowing that some of my sons wanted me to go with them, I said, “Okay.”
As the time for training and preparation came, I found all kinds of excuses [not to] go on the training rides. However, one Saturday I rode with them to the top of Parleys Canyon and back. It was hard, but I thought I would be okay. Little did I know!
The time for the trip came. I joined my boys the second day of the trip, as I had meetings the first day. The journey that second day took us from Heber City to Roosevelt (approximately one hundred miles).
As we checked into the motel that evening, I called my wife at home and told her I had never hurt so bad in my life. Every muscle, bone, and fiber in my body hurt from my head to my feet. I implored her, “When you come tomorrow with the rest of the family, please bring all the ointment and lotion you can find.”
She said, “Honey, you sound terrible.”
I told her, “I look and feel worse than I sound.”
The next day I hated to see the dawn come, knowing what it would be like to sit on that hard seat and pedal all day once again [in order] to reach our destination—especially the stretch from Vernal to Flaming Gorge, which would include approximately thirty-six-plus miles with grades up to 9 percent and ninety-degree-plus temperatures. Needless to say, for me the whole trip was a very trying and arduous task. But for my sons, who spent a lot of time waiting at the top of the hills for their slow, unprepared dad, it was exciting, fun, and rewarding.
That evening as we arrived at our destination, I came to an easy, yet profound recognition of how poorly prepared I was for what should have been a great experience with my sons, but was not because I did not take the time to properly prepare. I resolved that night that I would never again be that unprepared. I went home and bought bicycles for myself and my two youngest sons, and started training and preparing so that by the time the next summer came, my sons and I could ride our bikes to Lake Powell, a distance of three hundred miles, which we did. The next year we cycled to St. George, and every year thereafter, we rode our bikes to Lake Powell until our mission [assignment some years later].

Once when I was secretary to a congressman, I felt that President J. Reuben Clark, a Republican, was injecting politics into the Church because of his prejudice against the Democrats. I was a bishop, and I felt guilty because I wanted to think well of my Church leaders. I prayed earnestly to know from the Lord whether my observations were justified, and if not, what attitude the Lord would have me take. I went to general conference at Salt Lake in this spirit of inquiry. President Clark rose to speak. He gave some of the soundest advice I ever heard, and a witness came into my heart that said, “This man is a servant of God; you won’t get off the track if you follow him.” Now it didn’t say that he wasn’t an ardent Republican, but all I wanted to know was whether I should not in my heart accept him as my leader. Later I worked intimately with him on a Church manual, and my love and respect for him is one of my choicest possessions. But my choicest possession was the knowledge that this member of the First Presidency, in whom I could have great trust, put the Lord first in his life and was accepted by my Father in heaven.

When I started my first semester of college in the United States, I was so excited. I was attending a school with a lot of Church members, and I had never been surrounded by so many people my age who believed the same things I did! I expected we would all share the same standards and help each other grow spiritually and intellectually.
However, I was surprised when my expectations fell a little short.
Back in my home city in Taiwan, Church members always seemed to take the gospel seriously. They never missed a chance to connect with Jesus Christ, and neither did I. There, I would go to the temple every month with my younger sister (who always motivated me to go), I never missed church meetings (because of my parents), and I always tried to make decisions that kept me connected to the Spirit, just like the people around me did.
But at school, while nobody was intentionally breaking commandments, for some people, the gospel seemed to be lower on their to-do lists. Some of them made choices that just teetered on the edge between the world and the gospel. Being on my own for the first time, I got busy and caught up in what everyone else around me was doing. I soon saw how easy it is to be influenced by the world around you when you’re not prioritizing the gospel.
When friends around me were making decisions that didn’t always align with gospel standards, I started to wonder if I was living in a way that was too spiritual. I wondered if I was the odd one out—if I was taking the gospel too seriously. I started to feel lonely, especially at church. I felt tempted to change my standards to fit in with the people around me.
However, around that time, President Russell M. Nelson shared a powerful message in general conference:
“We have never needed positive spiritual momentum more than we do now. … Spiritual momentum can help us withstand the relentless, wicked attacks of the adversary and thwart his efforts to erode our personal spiritual foundation.
“… I urge you to get on the covenant path and stay there. Experience the joy of repenting daily. Learn about God and how He works. Seek and expect miracles. …
“As you act on these pursuits, I promise you the ability to move forward on the covenant path with increased momentum, despite whatever obstacles you face.”
That’s when it hit me.
I had been more interested in what others were doing than my own personal relationship with the Savior. I even realized that my school was right next to a temple and I hadn’t been there yet! It also became clear how much I had relied on others to influence my spirituality back in Taiwan too.
I needed to do the work to reignite my spiritual momentum and focus on Christ—who should be my top motivator to live His gospel.
I started making some changes.
Even if I didn’t feel motivated to go to church or attend the temple or do anything spiritual some days, I chose to do so anyway and focus on my Savior. It didn’t matter what everyone else was doing.
The world makes it easy to take the blessings of the gospel for granted, but when I focus on Him, I remember what matters most.
Instead of wallowing in loneliness and focusing on the differences in how we are living our lives, I now reach out to others. I strive to make friends and note all the positive interactions I have with them, like a simple smile or a kind conversation.
I no longer compare my discipleship to others’. Instead, I focus on keeping my spiritual habits consistent and strengthening my relationship with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. When I prioritize my relationship with Them, I remember how much They love each of us perfectly, and it reminds me to offer grace to others just like They offer grace to me.
President Nelson also invited us “to take charge of your own testimony of Jesus Christ and His gospel. Work for it. Nurture it so that it will grow. Feed it truth. … As you make the continual strengthening of your testimony of Jesus Christ your highest priority, watch for miracles to happen in your life.”
The world makes being casual about your discipleship easy, especially when you’re on your own for the first time as a young adult. However, I encourage you to accept our prophet’s invitation to strengthen your foundation of faith in Jesus Christ.
Making Him a priority keeps me moving forward on the covenant path.

Many great spiritual experiences have taken place in the Alberta Temple. Among them was one that resulted from the fervent prayers of the parents of a young elder who was drowned while on his way to a mission in South America. His grieving father and mother could not be comforted.
One evening while the father was in the Alberta Temple, he heard his son’s voice, although he did not see him. The young elder told his father that the grieving of his parents was making it impossible for their son to fill the heavenly mission to which he had been called. Then the boy promised that as a witness to the importance of the work he had been called to do, the father would be asked to speak at a special meeting that day in the temple.
Unexpectedly that afternoon the temple president stopped the work of those in the temple and announced that there would be a testimony meeting and asked several people to participate. The father anxiously waited. When another man was announced as the concluding speaker, the sorrowing father left the meeting, fearful that the visit with his son had been only his imagination.
Before the man had left the building, however, the temple president arose and announced that he had heard a voice directing him to ask this man whose son had been drowned to speak to the group. Those in the room reported that the father had left. “Then go and find him,” the president urged.
When the father returned to the meeting, he told the group of his strange experience while tears of comfort and joy glistened in his peace-filled eyes.

Elder Newcome was a little bit nervous when he entered the office for his personal interview. Earlier, when all of us met together, I had noticed that he had trouble reading the scriptures.
“I’m a new convert. I’ve only been a member of the Church for a little over a year.”
“And you feel like you’ll never catch up with the others?”
“I’ve always had a hard time learning. I don’t know a lot about the details of the Church.”
“How do you feel about the Book of Mormon and the gospel?”
“The Spirit has born witness to me. I know they’re true.”
When I heard that, I knew he’d do well.
Elder Newcome was assigned to an area where a counselor in the stake presidency lived. That counselor came to me as the mission president and said, “I have a very well educated 29-year-old friend who has had a lot of problems in his life. He’s finally searching for some answers, and he’s anxious to be taught the gospel. Do you have some good elders who can teach him?”
At first I thought about sending my assistants. But the Spirit whispered to me that this was the assigned area for Elder Newcome and his companion, and this was a job for them.
Two weeks later, I had the opportunity of meeting with this member of the stake presidency and the investigator as well. They were both very complimentary of the missionaries and their ability to teach. A short time later, the investigator was baptized, and I spoke with him and the counselor again.
“Did you know that Elder Newcome cannot read?” the counselor asked me.
“Yes, I know,” I said with emotion. “But he knows our Father in Heaven and his Son.”
“And he teaches with the Spirit,” said our newly baptized friend.

In Brazil, Eduardo Naum and Evilasio Cavalcanti represent two perspectives on this gospel growth—the comparatively young member and the pioneer.
A mid-level manager in his late twenties, Eduardo is bishop of the Ferreira Ward, São Paulo Brazil Taboão Stake. Since he joined the Church in 1991, he has twice been called as a bishop. His extended family, who are not Latter-day Saints, wonder why he is not paid for all the hours he spends in his Church calling. “I work for the Lord,” he reflects. “What I have learned from my service is that Jesus lives—surely. He is there for each of us.” That assurance alone is a priceless blessing worth any sacrifice.
Approximately 1,600 kilometers north of São Paulo on Brazil’s beautiful coast is the city of Salvador, entry port in the 16th and 17th centuries for thousands of African slaves. There, a Brazilian pioneer, Evilasio Cavalcanti, serves as patriarch of both the Salvador and Salvador North stakes. He first met the full-time missionaries in 1971 in Maceio, a city about 500 kilometers north of Salvador. Sister Cavalcanti was baptized first, followed by Brother Cavalcanti and the children who were old enough. Within a year of their baptism, the family moved to Salvador.
“At that time, there was no Church organization here,” says Brother Cavalcanti. “We were the Church. It wasn’t until 1978 that a branch was established and I was called as the first branch president.”
In the intervening years, the Cavalcantis lived the gospel to the best of their knowledge. “We didn’t know everything about the Church, but we never denied our membership. We always told people we were Mormons.
“All the while, we kept looking for young men wearing white shirts, hoping they were missionaries. Once in a while we were able to hold meetings with Church members visiting the city. We had no formal teaching materials for the children, but we always tried to set an example for them by the way we lived.”
All four Cavalcanti children eventually received their temple endowments and served full-time missions. All are still active in the Church.

Soccer may be Raphael’s sport of choice, but volleyball is most definitely his game. And he is really good at it. He is so good, in fact, that he played in the final game of the high school volleyball nationals. “That,” Raphael says, “was one of the three happiest days of my life.”
It was a friend who introduced Raphael to volleyball. In 2001 a teammate on his soccer team in Recife pointed out that some private high schools offer volleyball scholarships. At the time, Raphael was trying for a soccer scholarship but found his physical skills kept him from playing at the level the coaches wanted. But he seemed to have an unexplored talent for volleyball. “So I played volleyball until I got good at it,” he says. He became so good that he was able to secure a full scholarship to a private high school.
At school, he played in the Recife city championships, then in the regionals in northeast Brazil, one of the most important tournaments in the country. But his success didn’t end there. Not long afterward, he was asked to join the Pernambuco State team to prepare for the national high school tournament. His team won almost all of its games, losing only in the final match. He has the medals to show for it.
“As a volleyball player,” he says, “I’ve learned to play as a member of a team. One person can’t win alone. You have to look out for one another and help one another.”
In the same way, the Church has taught him to play as a member of the Lord’s team. “The Church has taught me to teach and care for others, to always watch for when people need help. There’s no better place to learn to live the gospel than in the Church. The Lord wants all of us to practice the gospel. That’s why I’m going on a mission.”
Raphael will be giving up a college athletic scholarship to do so. Recruited by several schools, he was tempted to accept a scholarship from one of them. But at this point in his life, he would rather serve on a mission than serve on a volleyball court. He knows he is making the right choice.
“As much success as I have had in sports,” he says, “I want to do better as a missionary. I feel that no matter where I go, I can do well—if I let the Lord coach me.”

A devoted colleague once shared with me an experience he had when fulfilling an assignment to put away chairs and straighten up the stake center following a stake conference. After 30 minutes of carrying out these duties, he realized that he was the last person remaining in the building. Rather than feeling alone with a rush to leave, however, he noticed that the same sweet sense of peace he had felt during the conference remained with him and was even increasing.
As he finished the assignment and exited the meetinghouse, he encountered another member who seemed to be watching him intently. Realizing what my friend had been doing, this member took him by the hand and said, “Brother, the Lord sees these small things that you do for Him, and He looks down and smiles upon them.”
Children and youth can be taught that reverence and care for the meetinghouse extends beyond Sunday meetings. Member participation in the cleaning of the meetinghouse—particularly the combined participation of parents and children—is a wonderful means of developing a sense of reverence for our sacred facilities. As evidenced from my friend’s experience in straightening up his stake center after stake conference, the very act of caring for the meetinghouse is a means of worship and invites the Spirit of the Lord.

This widespread respect for Brother Vidal became apparent to missionaries laboring in Cajamarca, Peru, in late 1970. Hoping to overcome the opposition and religious superstition that greeted them, the missionaries arranged to use a municipal building to present a week-long exposition featuring displays and explanations of the Book of Mormon and its ties to ancient inhabitants of America.

The day before the much-publicized exposition was to open, city officials told the missionaries that a local religious leader had instructed them not to allow them to proceed. Frustrated and discouraged, the missionaries chanced to meet the head of the local bank, with whom they had earlier visited about the Church. Learning of their predicament, he telephoned Brother Vidal in Lima.

“Señor Vidal, I know you are a Mormon,” he said. “I have great respect for you. Some of your missionaries are in a difficult situation. I am willing to risk my influence in this community to help them if you tell me that theirs is a good cause.”

Brother Vidal urged the bank executive to help the missionaries. As a result, the exposition was a success.

Sami was almost home. His mother had asked him to take some bread and cheese to his brothers, who were tending the sheep. It was a beautiful day, and Sami could see the tall date and coconut palms of El Shabar, one of the largest oases on the caravan route. It stretched for miles on the edge of the horizon, from the sand dunes to the west back toward the east like a black carpet.
There were no roads to his village, and Sami could walk where he pleased. Today as he walked, he tried to step on the stomach of the shadow moving ever out of reach in front of him. He looked up as he neared the small village.
The sun was already hot, and it was only midmorning. The dozen or so white clay homes reflected the glaring sun. A couple of dogs lazily scratched at fleas and moved with the shade to stay as cool as possible. And old Bashir’s camel was chewing and spitting under the trees. Why, that camel is almost as lazy as old Bashir! Sami thought, amused at the animal’s behavior.
The cluster of palms in the middle of the homes marked the well, and Sami could see some women bending over the square wash area, beating and wringing their wash. He could hear the women at the well talking and laughing as they drew water. Mother will be there now, he thought, and he listened for her familiar voice.
Sami turned toward his home, still listening for his mother’s voice. He hadn’t seen her at the well; maybe she was already home. She had promised to fix a lamb stew today in celebration of Sami’s birth. He was almost a man now—nine years old! Father had made him new sandals, and they were the softest and sturdiest of anyone’s. His brothers had given him his very own lamb to raise. A “seed,” they called it, for his own flock one day. Oh how he loved that lamb!
When Sami stepped inside his house, he saw that his mother wasn’t there. Where can she be? he wondered. Before leaving to look for her, Sami took a piece of bread to satisfy his hunger.
Outside again, he heard the distant ting-a-ling of caravan bells. As he looked toward El Shabar, Sami could see dust clouds rising up. There must be a million camels, he thought. What a wonderful thing to happen on my birthday! Someday I’ll join a caravan and go to Cairo, Philippi, Caesarea, and even across the Mediterranean Sea to Rome and Greece. I really will do it someday.
Sami hurried toward the caravan, hoping he’d find his mother there, trading for herbs and spices—after all it was to be a special lamb stew today. He also wanted to see the caravan for himself. His brothers had told him that a caravan’s camels had the finest of harnesses with silver and gold bells and brightly colored blankets. And his brothers had described all sorts of people, speaking all sorts of languages and carrying all sorts of wonderful things on caravans.
Sami was running in his haste to reach the caravan, when he saw his mother approaching. She was carrying a bundle in her arms and another one on her head.
“Mother,” he called, waving to her and running all the faster. “Mother, what did you get?”
His mother only smiled as she handed him a bundle to carry for her. “But don’t peek inside,” she told him.
Sami wanted to unwrap just a corner to see what was inside, but he made himself obey his mother instead. She was describing the caravan and where it had been and the people and things she had seen.
At home Mother took the bundle off her head and set it by the fire. She hung up the herbs and put the spices in pots. Finally she gestured toward the bundle Sami had carried. “Now you may unwrap it, Sami,” she said. “It’s for you.”
Sami’s fingers fumbled with the coarse cloth wrapped about the package. Then—“Oh, Mother, it’s beautiful!” Sami exclaimed as he held up a box. The box was made of sandalwood and inlaid with stars and beautiful, intricate designs. And it had a latch! When Sami lifted the lid, it smelled sweet inside. It was a magnificent box. And it was his!
In the middle of his joy, Sami suddenly sat down and looked from the box to his mother.
“What is it? Is something wrong with your gift?” Mother asked.
“No, Mother, but what shall I do with it? It is a very fine gift, indeed, but it can’t feed us or help us with our work. Father says that we should judge all things by that.”
Mother smiled. “Your father is right, Sami,” she agreed. “I’m glad that you remember his counsel. But remember, too, that there are times when we need to be alone with our thoughts and our memories. Most people store theirs in their hearts. But you’re a dreamer, Sami. You appreciate both our ancient, yet precious, customs and our glorious possibilities. And just as families, villages, and nations need dreamers to preserve the best from their past and lead them to great accomplishments in their future, dreamers need things that they can hold on to, to keep their dreams from fading. This box is to hold some of those things.”
Later that night Sami lay on his bed and thought of what a wonderful birthday it had been. The sandals, the lamb, and the stew were truly gifts of the heart from his family. But the box! The first thing in the morning Sami would start filling his box. He would put his old sandals into it to always remind him of the talents of his people. And he would put into the beautiful box a small tuft of wool from his new lamb as a symbol of his first step toward a future caravan.
It’s been a wonderful day, Sami thought as he drifted off to sleep, and tomorrow will be even better.

For a long time a good friend of mine has put down my religion. She is a strong Christian and her father is a minister, so she always had “facts” about how the Church was wrong. I tried to ignore her and change the subject because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. Her comments continued, so I finally told her that even if she didn’t believe it, it was my religion. I believed it, and it hurt me and our friendship when she criticized me. We talked a little about what she said that bugged me, and we haven’t had any problems since.
Kimmie B., 16, Arizona

We all know that reading the scriptures can be a struggle. How many of you have tried to start reading the Book of Mormon and haven’t been able to get past 1st or 2nd Nephi? Yeah, that was me so many times until I came up with a plan. One day I decided to skip 1st and 2nd Nephi and start with Jacob. Sometimes I have to play tricks on my mind and it worked because I felt I was getting somewhere when I quickly completed 5 books (Jacob, Enos, Jarom, Omni, and Words of Mormon). Of course, all but one of those books has only one chapter but I nonetheless had finished 5 books. By that time I felt the desire to feast upon the words and I wanted to keep reading. Alma didn’t even seem that long anymore as I became immersed in the scriptures. Once I finished Moroni I started at the Title Page and read right through 1st and 2nd Nephi as I continued reading through the Book of Mormon once again. By reading the scriptures, especially the Book of Mormon, I have been able to recognize how these ancient records apply to our times. It has helped me be more aware of how Satan tries to deceive us and try to destroy us. It has also helped me see how much Heavenly Father and Jesus love us and how patient they are with us.

To provide a common point of reference for my remarks, I’d like to begin by relating an experience taken from Joseph Smith’s diary. During the second week of December 1835, the Prophet spent several evenings participating in a debate at the home of his brother, William, in Kirtland, Ohio. The subject of the debate was whether it was necessary for God to reveal himself to man in order for us to experience happiness. Joseph spoke in favor of the proposition—his intimate understanding of the subject and his forceful nature undoubtedly contributed to his side winning the debate.

At the conclusion of this activity, the future of the debate series was discussed. Joseph urged the group to disband, fearing, in his words, “that it would not result in good” (Dean C. Jessee, comp. and ed., The Personal Writings of Joseph Smith (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 1984), p. 105). William opposed this position and became very angry. He refused to allow his brother Hyrum to express his opinion on the subject, invoking his right as the owner of the home to manage the discussion as he saw fit. William’s frustrations grew to the point that, according to the Prophet, he “used violence upon my person” (Jessee, Personal Writings,p. 106).

A few days later Joseph described this event and its effects:
I left [his] house with feelings that were indescribable. The scenery had changed [along with] all those expectations that I had cherished, when going to [his]house, of brotherly kindness, charity, forbearance and natural affection, that in duty binds us not to make each other offenders for a word.
. . . With marks of violence heaped upon me by a brother . . . I returned home, not able to sit down, or rise up, without help, but through the blessings of God I am now better. [p. 114; text modernized]

This experience was equally troubling to William, as reflected in the following letter he sent Joseph: “Brother Joseph—Though I do not know but [if] I have forfeited all right and title to the word brother, in consequence of what I have done.” He then requested a release from his apostleship, because “then I would not . . . bring so much disgrace upon the cause, when I fell into temptation [because of my] passions” (pp. 110–11; spelling corrected).

From the Prophet’s entry in his journal two weeks later, on the morning of January 1, 1836, it is evident that, although his physical wounds had healed, his emotional scars were still very painful.

Notwithstanding the gratitude that fills my heart [in reflecting on] the past year, and the multiplied blessings that have crowned our heads, my heart is pained within me because of the difficulty that exists in my father’s family. The Devil has made a violent attack on Brother William and Brother Calvin, and the powers of darkness . . . cast a gloomy shade over the minds of my brothers and sisters, which prevents them from seeing things as they really are. The powers of earth and hell seem combined to overthrow us and the church by causing a division in the family. Indeed, the adversary is bringing into requisition all his subtlety to prevent the Saints from being endowed, by causing division among the 12, also among the 70, and bickerings and jealousies among the Elders and official members of the church. . . .
But I am determined that nothing on my part shall be lacking to . . . amicably . . . settle all family difficulties on this day, that the ensuing year . . . may be spent in righteousness before God. [p. 121; text modernized]

Later that day, Joseph’s father, uncle, brothers Hyrum and William, and Martin Harris attended a meeting in the Prophet’s home. According to Joseph’s account, his father opened with prayer, and then
expressed his feelings . . . with all the sympathy of a father whose feelings were wounded deeply on . . . account of the difficulty that [existed] in the family. And while he addressed us the spirit of God rested down upon us in mighty power, and our hearts were melted. Brother William made a humble confession and asked my forgiveness for the abuse he had offered me, and wherein I had been out of the way I asked his forgiveness. The spirit of confession and forgiveness was mutual among us all, and we covenanted with each other . . . to strive from hence forward to build each other up in righteousness in all things and [to] not listen to evil reports concerning each other, but [to] go to each other with our grievances in the spirit of meekness and be reconciled, and thereby promote our own happiness and the happiness of our family and, in short, the happiness and well-being of all. [p. 122; text modernized]