Gospel Story Finder

In August of 1977, Sister Barrett and I were invited to the home of Dr. Abraham Ziv Baron, head of the philosophy faculty at Hebrew University. He invited in a number of colleagues and their wives. The evening was spent in discussing our belief in God. After telling them the character of the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the God of his fathers and the God of ours, that he has a body of flesh and bones as tangible as man’s, Dr. Baron said, “The rabbis teach that God is a spirit.” And then he added, “I do not believe the creature can ever become like the Creator.”

His wife spoke up and said, “When God appeared to Moses, he was a flame of fire.” Another gentlemen in the group observed that when Moses and seventy of the elders saw God, they saw his back parts.

“Indeed they did,” said I, “because God is a divinely exalted man in whose image we are created. Have you not read in Exodus 33:11, ‘And the Lord spake unto Moses face to face, as a man speaketh unto his friend’?”

“This is a new idea about God,” said Dr. Baron, “but I like it. I have never before understood the true character of God.”

And then I quoted to him the words of the Prophet Joseph, and I think we can all observe them and meditate on them, even the missionaries in the high multitudes up there:

Ask yourselves, turn your thoughts into your hearts, and say if any of you have seen, heard, or communed with him. This is a question that may occupy your attention for a long time. . . . What kind of a being is God?

Then I said to Dr. Baron, “He answered his own question. He is a prophet, and here is a man who knew whereof he spoke because he had seen God.” Joseph said:

God himself was once as we are now, and is an exalted man, and sits enthroned in yonder heavens! . . . If you were to see him today, you would see him like a man in form—like yourselves in all the person, image, and very form as a man; for Adam was created in the very fashion, image and likeness of God, and received instruction from, and walked, talked, and conversed with him, as one man talks and communes with another.

A few days after our evening with Dr. and Mrs. Baron, we met them coming from a large auditorium near David Markus Street. (When you go to Jerusalem, you can pick that out.) They had attended and participated in an international gathering of philosophers, and Dr. Baron had given the keynote address. He smiled all over as he said, “My lecture was on the nature and character of God. I thought you’d like that.”

And Sister Barrett asked, “Did you give it right?”

The place we chose to visit was the Gulf of California near Puerto Peñasco, Mexico. Our family had vacationed there before, and it was only about a six-hour drive from our home. In addition, at times of new and full moon the tides at Puerto Penasco are so extreme that the water surface fluctuates over 20 feet up and down twice daily, alternately exposing and covering a rocky reef several hundred yards out from shore. At low tide it is actually possible to wade out to this reef, where one can find a number of creatures usually not seen on the beach.
Our first trip was a two-nighter, and we had the good fortune to collect a wide variety of life forms and get most of them back alive. Included in our catch were about a dozen different species of fish, several different types of sea star, a diverse assortment of crabs, shrimp, clams, snails and barnacles, and some sea hares.
We brought our collection home in ordinary Styrofoam ice chests. To help the creatures survive the trip, we turned the car air conditioner on full blast to keep the water as cool as possible. Low temperatures reduce animals’ activity rates and decrease their need for oxygen. But we still added some oxygen to the water by means of battery-operated bubblers.
In addition to collecting specimens to add to our pond, we also collected data on sea surface and beach temperatures, so as to increase our knowledge of the best method of operating the pond’s temperature control system. To do this, we used an infrared thermometer that gave us the temperature measurements we sought by merely pointing the instrument’s heat radiation sensor at either the land or the water.
As soon as we arrived home, we added our catch to the pond. Normally, we would have taken an hour or two to get the creatures used to their new water; but after traveling so long with such a small volume of water, we felt it best to get them into the “fresh” salt water as soon as possible.
Much to our delight, everything survived and has continued to prosper to this day—except for those creatures that have served as food for others. Our bullseye puffers, for instance, ate the barnacles and sea hares, and our larger crabs devoured a lot of clams and snails as well as each other! Now, however, even they are beginning to disappear; for on our last trip, we brought home an octopus, and crab meat is a temptation he just can’t resist.

When Sierra P., 17, moved to an area where few members of the Church live, her new friends wanted to know about her beliefs. This scenario isn’t new, and sometimes we may wonder how we can share the gospel with our friends without being overbearing. During a recent conversation with the New Era, youth in Arkansas shared what they have learned.
Sierra discovered that she could best answer questions when she asked her friends about their beliefs first and then focused on similarities and differences. “We studied a little about the Church in U.S. history, and that made everyone curious, so they came to me with their questions,” she says. “I had an opportunity to explain the entire plan of salvation to my volleyball team. Some of them realized that we have a lot of faith and are good people.”

It is hazardous in the extreme to count on a situation typical of one I read about some years ago pertaining to a large, ecclesiastically oriented college in the eastern part of America, where every student had to enroll in a class called Religion 101. The professor of that particular class had been there many years and loved the writings and teachings of the Apostle Paul. He loved them with such vigor that that is about all he taught in Religion 101. Consequently, he would tell the class at the beginning of the semester, “I will not give any examinations during the semester except the final. The result of the final examination will determine your grade for the course.”

Now, that would be kind of overwhelming, except that every semester for 21 years he had given the same examination in every class of Religion 101. The examination consisted of one question. And for all those years, the question had been the same. Can you believe it? What a snap class! The question had always been: Describe the travels and teachings of the Apostle Paul.

Some young people would come to class the first day and get their name on the record. That was about it until the final examination. Then they would come, having boned up on an answer to that question.

One particular semester, three young men who had followed that practice of registering and then absenting themselves until the end of the semester sat with their pencils poised as the professor went to the chalkboard and said, “I shall place on the board the question on which your entire grade will depend.” To their great astonishment he did not write the usual question. Instead, he wrote, “Criticize the Sermon on the Mount.”

One of the three young men said, “I don’t even know what book it is in.” He closed his test book and left the room.

The second young man thought for a moment. He didn’t know anything about the Sermon on the Mount because he had prepared for a different test question. He left the room, anticipating a failing grade.

The third one of this trio stayed in the class. He wrote line after line and page after page. His friends were outside in the hallway, looking through the door window, wondering what he was writing. They knew that he had no more knowledge of the Sermon on the Mount than did they, that he had prepared for the question that was not asked. They wondered what he was writing in that test book.

He didn’t tell them until the day the papers were examined and returned. They all huddled around to see what grade he had received. He had an A on the test and therefore an A in the course. As he opened the cover of the exam book, there was the question: “Criticize the Sermon on the Mount.” And here is what this enterprising young man had written: “I will leave it to someone far more knowledgeable and experienced than I am to criticize the greatest sermon from the greatest life ever lived. As for me, I would prefer to describe the travels and teachings of the Apostle Paul.”

While in high school in Alberta, Canada, I went to watch our junior and senior football teams play back-to-back games in the city playoffs. The games were in late October, and it was very cold. I had applied a number of thick layers of clothes, but I became very cold into the second game. I was so cold that I was shivering.
The people behind me noticed I was cold and offered a hot drink of coffee from their thermos. I was tempted as I saw the steam coming off the thermos and thought how good it would feel to warm my insides. It would only be one drink, and no one would know. Then I thought of my parents and teachers who had steered me straight and trained me to prepare for this situation. I could remember the lessons in family home evening, Sunday School, priesthood meetings, and seminary that taught me how freedom is gained by obeying our Father’s commandments.
As the cup was being poured, I remembered previous mistakes, and the result of those mistakes on my life. I resolved to do the right thing. I thanked them for their offer but refused the coffee. As I walked home after the games, my heart felt light. I now understood better than ever the freedom gained from obedience to the commandments and what my parents, teachers, and the general authorities were trying so hard to teach me.

When Jamie learned of her husband’s pornography use, she reacted with an understandable desire to control whatever she could. She thought she could arrange the life of her husband, Jon, so he wouldn’t seek instant gratification through pornography, and he would, therefore, have no other option but to choose righteousness. She wrote daily lists for him: what he could do for fun and what chores he needed to complete.
A pivotal moment in Jamie’s journey came when her bishop was inspired to emphasize, “Jamie, this is not your fault. Nothing you are doing is making him look at pornography. He is choosing.” And just as she was not the cause of his looking at pornography, she also could not be the cause of his stopping. Intellectually, she already knew what the bishop told her, but Jamie says that after the bishop’s reminder, “the lists stopped. I gave up trying to control his behavior and trying to force him into righteousness—and I focused on myself.” In effect, Jamie gave herself permission to feel her own hurt and to work on her own recovery.
After Jamie’s realization, Jon struggled and relapsed often, but he took responsibility for his own actions. And as they each worked on their own healing, Jon and Jamie found that they could heal better as individuals and as a couple.
Another turning point for Jamie and Jon came when one of their children needed a blessing. They called their home teacher, who bravely explained that he was seeking help to deal with his own struggles with pornography. He offered to find someone else to give the blessing. That openness lessened the shame Jon and Jamie felt about their own situation, and Jon finally felt safe enough to discuss his addiction with someone besides Jamie.
When the home teacher’s wife offered to talk with Jamie, Jamie didn’t see the point since her talking wouldn’t fix Jon—and at that point, fixing him was her goal. Yet after she and the home teacher’s wife visited, Jamie felt lighter. Nothing had changed. Jon still struggled, but she was relieved that someone else knew what she was going through and her world hadn’t come crashing down.
Well into their journey of overcoming pornography, Jon and Jamie discovered how helpful it was to set boundaries, and they still have them today—even after a good amount of sobriety—because of the peace of mind that boundaries provide. Jamie says that when she was most vulnerable, setting boundaries “protected my heart.”
She and Jon agreed that there were appropriate times and ways to discuss issues surrounding a relapse. They agreed not to have “text wars” but to speak in person. They also agreed that if a discussion was turning into an argument, they could take a break and talk later.
Many of Jon and Jamie’s boundaries relate to how they communicate, but some of their other boundaries take the form of if/then statements in which they agree that certain actions will lead to certain consequences. That, Jamie says, allows them both to feel that life isn’t quite so chaotic.
So do Jamie and Jon, who actively help other couples find the healing they have found through the Savior and His Atonement.

When I was elected junior class vice president of Edgemont High School, I wasn’t just surprised, I was in temporary shock. I had entered the race at the last minute for the experience. At least that’s what I had told myself. When I actually won, it seemed impossible, incredible! What seemed even more incredible was that I had apparently won by a landslide. At least that’s what Molly Pratt claimed.
“Boy, Mark, are you ever popular. You got almost every vote. I helped count them.”
I shook my head for the hundredth time. “I just can’t believe it. It’s incredible.”
“Not really,” Molly said smiling.
Although I couldn’t figure out how it had all happened, I did know one thing: I planned to do a good job—a great job. I didn’t want anyone to think he’d made a mistake by voting for Mark Bennion.
Just a few days after I’d talked to Molly, I was standing by my locker cleaning out some of the election handouts when I heard a soft voice behind me. I knew whose voice it was even before I turned around. Although she was in my history class, Rhonda Jackson had never spoken to me before, and I could feel my face getting warm. Up close she was even prettier than at a two-row distance. A sprinkle of small, delicate freckles peppered her nose, and her warm smile made me quiver.
“Oh, hi,” I said, trying to sound casual but sounding more as if I had just swallowed a baseball.
“We’re having a little get-together at my place tomorrow night,” she said. “We’re going to study for the history test. Well, just for a little while. Then we’ll have some fun. You know, talk a little, dance or something.” She touched my arm lightly with her forefinger. “Would you like to join our group?”
“I, uh, I can’t think of any reason why I couldn’t. Yes, sure.” I knew about her little group. Who didn’t? It was the elite group at Edgemont. The thought of being included seemed unreal. Just last week I had thought of myself as a Joe-average with just a few friends, like the guys I palled around with in the neighborhood. Now hundreds of students seemed to know me and find me important. And I had a chance, a real chance, to belong to the most exclusive group at school.
“Oh, by the way,” Rhonda smiled again and looked straight into my eyes. “We’ve got a copy of the test so you won’t need to bring your book. We’re just going to memorize the answers. We’ll probably be able to get copies of some of the other tests coming up, too.”
“Oh?” Her words hit me like a thud. “How did …”
“Don’t ask.” She put her hand over my mouth and giggled softly. “Let’s just say we have connections. See you tomorrow night.”
I watched her walk away. She turned and smiled, fully aware that I was staring after her. Wow, she was beautiful. I sighed. “Too bad.”
The next day I was prepared to tell Rhonda that I couldn’t make it to the get-together. I couldn’t afford to go and then make a fool of myself by being a goody-two-shoes and refusing to participate in the cheating. I wouldn’t say the word cheating or make any accusations. But when I saw her walking toward me with that appealing smile, the brave words began slipping from my mind. I wanted her to like me. Oh, how I wanted Rhonda Jackson to like me.
“You’re coming tonight, I hope,” she said, emphasizing the words “I hope.” There was a nice lilt to her voice.
“Well, I’d really like to, but …
“I’d really be disappointed if you didn’t come. You’ve just got to come. Everybody’s going to be there. Bill Spilker, Audrey Madsen, Nicki Simmons, and Frank, you know, Frank Lake. They’re all going to be there, and you really should get to know all of us better.” The names she had mentioned were familiar to me—familiar to everyone at Edgemont. They were the officers of the school, the “in-group” of in-groups.
“I have a little secret to tell you,” Rhonda began whispering in a confidential manner. “Frank said something about you.”
“What was that?” I asked, impressed that my name had even come up in conversation. Frank was the student-body vice president.
“He thinks if you play your cards right you could be president of the school.”
“Oh, sure.” I felt myself blushing in pleasure.
“You don’t know how popular you are, do you, Mark? You have a lot of power already. A little more, some friends in the right circles, for instance, could put the presidency right in your pocket.”
“You really think so?”
She looked down dramatically, then up into my eyes. “Believe me, I know so. See you tonight about eight or eight-thirty.”
As I watched her walk away I stood grinning. Again I sighed.
Come on, I thought. Me, president of the whole student body? Me, in Rhonda Jackson’s league? This is all too incredible. I shook my head. “Nah,” I said out loud. But then I began wondering. With some friends in the right circles, maybe—just maybe—it wasn’t so farfetched. I had won junior class vice president by a landslide. Maybe further miracles were also possible. I’ve been pretty naive, I thought. There are probably a lot of things going on in this school that I know nothing about. Everyone probably cheats once in a while to keep up the old grade-point average.
In my mind, I went over the people Rhonda had mentioned would be at her house. Slowly it began registering that everyone was matched up—except Rhonda. My face grew warm again. Could it be Rhonda had me in mind for herself? “Impossible!” My stomach did a backflip, and I walked to my locker to get rid of my history book. I wouldn’t need it tonight!
Later in the day, while I was on my way to study class, I passed my last year’s history classroom. Mr. Hancock was just closing the door to his room. As I nodded a hello, he motioned that he wanted to talk to me.
“What can I do for you?” I asked.
“I’m glad you walked by, Mark. An interesting thing happened that I wanted to tell you about. Can you come in for a minute?”
“Sure thing.” As I sat down by his desk, I looked around at the pictures of some of the presidents and other historical figures I could remember learning about in his class. My sophomore year in Mr. Hancock’s class had been quite the year for hero worship.
“I don’t know if this will mean anything to you,” he said. “But I thought you should know.”
“What’s up?” I asked. “What happened?” I was curious now.
“Well, a few days ago I gave a test, and my last question was ‘What great person, living or dead, would you most like to use as an example in your own life?’ I mostly got the kind of answers I was expecting: Abraham Lincoln, George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Ben Franklin; but a most peculiar thing happened.”
“Oh?”
“One of the boys put your name.”
“My name?” I was confused. “Why would he do that?”
“I guess he thinks you’re a ‘great man,’” he said, smiling. “Thought you might want to know.”
“That’s incredible,” I said, staring at him.
“Glad it makes a difference to you. You’ve been getting quite a bit of attention lately, and I wasn’t sure you’d care; but, well, I thought I’d tell you.”
I nodded and kept staring. Then I looked around the room and nodded again. There was a knot beginning to form in my stomach. “It makes a difference,” I said. “Thanks, Mr. Hancock.”
“Good to talk to you, Mark, and good luck to you.”
“Thanks again,” I said. I felt two feet taller as I headed toward the door. Without hesitation I turned down the hall in the direction of my locker. I had a history book to retrieve and some hard and fast studying to do. People were counting on me, wanted to be like me. There was no way I was going to let them down!

Nate was walking home from school on Monday. He saw something shiny. It was a yellow truck in a sandbox. Yellow was his favorite color! He put the truck in his pocket.
At home, Nate took out the truck to play. But when he looked at it, he didn’t feel so good.
On Tuesday, Nate passed the sandbox again. This time he saw an orange truck.
This will go great with the yellow truck, Nate thought. He put it in his pocket. But when Nate got home, he felt bad inside.
The same thing happened Wednesday, when Nate took a purple truck.
On Thursday he took a green truck.
Each time he took a truck, Nate felt worse. But he still wanted to collect more.
On Friday, as Nate reached to grab a white truck from the sandbox, he heard a voice above him.
“I see you like trucks.”
Nate jumped back. A woman was smiling at him.
“My son, Cayden, is about your age,” the woman said. “He has been losing a lot of trucks lately. Do you know where they are?”
Nate gulped. He knew he was in trouble. But he also knew that telling the truth was the right thing.
“I have them at my house,” Nate said. “I’ll go get them!”
Nate ran home. He told Mom what had happened. They said a prayer. Nate told Heavenly Father he was sorry. He asked for the bad feelings to go away. Then they took the trucks back to the sandbox.
“Sorry I took your trucks,” Nate said to Cayden.
“Thanks for bringing them back,” Cayden said. “Want to play?”
Nate smiled and nodded. Playing with trucks had never been so fun. And next week, he would make better choices!

Some would think that losing an arm would be a terrible burden, but it has been one of the greatest blessings in my life. I learned that it is very important to have challenges and to face up to them.
Before I had bone cancer, I was quite impatient. When I came home from the hospital, I suddenly needed a lot of patience. I had been right-handed, and now I had to learn to do everything left-handed.
One Sunday morning when I was in my bedroom with my tie in my hand, I thought, How am I going to tie this? I thought about getting a clip-on tie. I thought about asking Mom to help me. But I couldn’t take her with me on my mission just to tie my ties. So I decided I had to learn how to do it myself. I finally figured it out by using my teeth. I still do it that way, even after having tied it thousands of times. I have learned that with a positive attitude and the Lord’s help, I can do what I have to do.

I’m having a birthday party next weekend, on the 23rd. We’re going to Funland Park at two o’clock. Can you come?
I’d love to! Let me check with my mom.
Yes! I’m starting to fit in. Allie is really nice. Her party should be fun.
I know it’s on a Sunday, but maybe it would be OK just this once. Besides, I don’t want to hurt Allie’s feelings.
If I ask Mom and Dad, they’ll probably tell me it’s my decision. What should I do?
The next day at school …
I’m sorry I can’t come to your party. I’m glad you invited me, and I hope you have a great birthday. Can we hang out another time?
Can we bake some birthday cookies to take to my friend Allie this weekend?

Illustrations by Emma Gillette
Eli ran to the window when he heard the pitter-patter of rain falling outside. He saw big black clouds and watched the rain hit the sidewalk.
“Man! How am I going to practice now?” he said. Eli had just signed up for middle-school football, and he had a game coming up.
Eli’s younger brother, Mitch, came to look out the window too. That gave Eli an idea.
“Hey, Mitch,” Eli said. “Want to help me practice my football passes?”
“Inside?” Mitch asked. “Mom would get really mad.”
“She won’t find out,” Eli said. “She’s at the store. We just have to be careful.”
“Well, OK,” said Mitch.
Eli ran upstairs to grab his football. Then he and Mitch started throwing it back and forth.
Eli made a catch in front of the couch. Then another. He was getting pretty good! He threw the ball back to Mitch.
The ball sailed over Mitch’s head. Mitch jumped, his arms outstretched, but it was too high.
CRASH!
“Oh no!” Mitch said. The football had smashed into the shelf where Mom kept her fancy dishes. He and Eli rushed over and stared at the pile of broken plates.
“Maybe we can glue them back together?” Eli said.
Mitch grabbed a tube of glue from the cabinet, and they tried to fit the pieces together. But some were chipped and couldn’t be glued back right.
Maybe we could throw the broken ones away, Eli thought. Mom might not even notice. We can space out the other dishes to fill in the gaps.
But as soon as the idea popped into his mind, he knew it was wrong.
Eli had just become a deacon. He knew that honoring the priesthood meant he needed to be honest. When Dad ordained him, Dad said that there might be times when he would be tempted to do the wrong thing but that he would be able to make the right choice. Eli knew what he needed to do.
“What’re we going to do?” Mitch asked. “Mom’s going to be really mad!”
“We have to tell the truth,” Eli said.
When Mom got home with their baby sister, Annie, Eli and Mitch told her the bad news.
“Mom,” Eli began, “I know we’re not supposed to, but we were playing football inside. I threw the ball too hard, and it crashed into the shelf and broke some plates. It’s my fault. I’m sorry.”
Mom looked at Eli and Mitch. She looked sad for a moment, then said, “Thank you for being honest. I’m proud of you for telling me.”
“How can I make it right?” Eli asked.
“Well, you can start by helping me clean up the broken glass,” Mom said. “Then while you help me with Annie, we’ll talk about ways you can earn money to replace the plates.”
After they cleaned up the mess, Eli spent the afternoon playing with Annie. He felt bad that he broke Mom’s plates, but he learned that it always feels good to be honest.
See family manual, page 104; Primary manual, page 102.

At the beginning of 2017, I was serving as a full-time missionary in the beautiful city of Duékoué in western Côte d’Ivoire. One morning, after completing my personal study guided by Preach My Gospel, I reread a passage inviting missionaries to pray continually about the truths they already knew so their testimonies could be strengthened. With that thought in mind, my companion and I left for our first appointment of the day, followed by some proselyting.
That afternoon, we visited our elderly friend, Brother Tahin, who was in his 70s. After the usual greetings and an opening prayer, we reviewed the previous lesson, discussed his commitments, and introduced the message we had prepared.
Just as we finished the introduction, a pastor—an acquaintance of Brother Tahin—posed a mocking question, doubting the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon. I looked at my companion, who was still learning the language, and he immediately began to respond.
While he spoke, I prayed silently for him to find the right words. I also prayed for myself, remembering my study that morning. With sincere intent, I once again asked about something I already knew: “Heavenly Father, is the Book of Mormon true? Please confirm it to me again.”
The moment I finished my prayer, a gentle yet firm voice that was not my own spoke within me, accompanied by a spiritual warmth: “If the book is not true, why are you defending it?”
The joy and peace that followed this heavenly whisper deepened and clarified my testimony. When I spoke after my companion, I bore a powerful and renewed witness, with assurance and humility. My words carried such conviction that the pastor who had asked the question remained speechless.
When I finished, he did not speak again. Brother Tahin then said: “My children, I know today that you are true men of God. Your message is the truth. The calm and love with which you speak, even when people resist, show that you serve Jesus Christ. This book, the Book of Mormon, is true. And despite my eye problems, I promise I will make the effort to read it.”
That day was a heavenly moment for us. As we walked home, my companion rejoiced, and we both felt overwhelmed with gratitude. I recorded this experience in my missionary journal, and it has stayed with me ever since.

The Ninth Ward of the Las Vegas Nevada Stake planned a 5-day superactivity that would take place in their own valley. The focus of the activity was to learn more about the life and hardships of the early pioneers in their area.
The theme of the activity was “Handcarts to Husqvarnas,” representing old-fashioned and modern methods of travel in the valley. Handcarts were used by the early pioneers, and Husqvarnas, a type of motorcycle, are a popular vehicle with the members of the Ninth Ward.
The opening activity was a game night in which the group was divided into companies of ten each. Of the twelve games played, six were games that might have been played in pioneer days, and six were modern games. The companies finished the evening by decorating their handcarts for the Saturday trek.
Friday evening a modern formal dinner was served complete with musical entertainment. The evening was concluded with a film on the history of the Las Vegas area.
Early the next morning, the groups met at the chapel ready for a day of exploring the valley’s history. On the way to the desert, the caravan of trucks and cars stopped at designated spots to receive short 15-minute history lessons on the area. After arriving at the desert, the group mounted motorcycles or loaded into trucks for a three-mile ride to a predetermined destination. There they found the handcarts waiting for them. Loading up the carts, the youth began the trek that would cover the same three miles they had covered so quickly by modern means. They soon found it was hard work as the sun heated the desert. In rest areas planned along the way, the groups were encouraged to stop and appreciate nature or stop and bury bad habits.
After a pioneer luncheon cooked over an open fire, the group cleaned up the area and returned to the chapel to clean the trucks used on the outing.
On Sunday evening a special fireside was held with the featured speaker talking about looking to the past to help with the future.
The final day of the superactivity was held on the following Activity Night. Video movies had been taken of the various activities and were shown. A local historian talked about the places the youth had visited. The Las Vegas youth felt they really had learned more about their home area and had a greater appreciation for the sacrifices of the pioneers that settled their valley.

Around my 14th birthday, I learned about some of these blessings. I noticed different behavior on the part of my parents. Considering what I observed, I asked, “Are we going on a mission?” The shock on my mother’s face confirmed my suspicion. Later, in a family council, my siblings and I learned that our parents had been called to preside over a mission.
We lived on a beautiful ranch in Wyoming. From my perspective, life was perfect. I could come home from school, complete my chores, and be off hunting, fishing, or exploring with my dog.
Shortly after learning of the calling, I realized that I would have to give up my dog, Blue. I confronted my father, asking what I should do with Blue. I wanted to emphasize the unfairness of what God was requiring. I will never forget this response. He said, “I’m not sure. He probably cannot go with us, so you had better ask Heavenly Father.” That was not the response I had anticipated.
I began reading the Book of Mormon. I earnestly prayed to know if I had to give my dog away. My answer did not come in a moment; rather, a specific thought kept penetrating my mind: “Don’t be a burden to your parents. Don’t be a burden. I have called your parents.”
I knew what Heavenly Father required. That knowledge did not reduce the pain of giving my dog away. However, through that small sacrifice, my heart softened and I found peace in seeking Heavenly Father’s will.
I thank my Heavenly Father for the blessings and happiness I found through the scriptures, prayer, the Holy Ghost, and a worthy earthly father who embraced his role as the principal gospel teacher of his children. They were leading me, guiding me, and even walking beside me to help me find the way—especially when I had to do something difficult.

Last year’s Mutual theme, “Arise and Shine Forth,” reminded me of a girl I went to high school with named Lisa. She was a cheerleader. It was a large school, and I didn’t know her well.

One Saturday night I went to a farewell party for Lisa and her younger sister, who were moving to Idaho. Some kids were drinking alcohol, and they repeatedly offered beer to Lisa and her sister. I even heard one person shout, “Come on, just one drink! It’s your party, just one drink for us!”

But Lisa and her sister both refused the drinks. They just smiled and said no. I thought being a popular cheerleader meant that you did the “popular” thing—drink. I wasn’t a member of the Church then, but their strength and courage surprised me.

One final experience that I would like to share is one of having faith in praying for your purpose. As you prepare for your graduation, ask Heavenly Father for guidance on where you are needed next. I can testify that entering here to learn and going forth to serve has blessed my professional life. I have always prayed to Heavenly Father where do you need me next. He has always answered this prayer. Looking at my resume I can see the Lord’s hand that prepared me for this current position now as the CIO for BYU–Hawaii. My goal in each place I worked at was to do my best to learn, do what was required, and to do it well. I was never the type to say I am in it for the promotion or title. I just wanted to be a part of the team. This position was something that came up unexpectedly. I was working at the Office of IT at BYU in Provo and we were challenged at the time by our CIO to pray for our purpose and where we fit in the organization. I took this challenge to heart.

I applied for an internal position at BYU in Provo thinking that was the change I needed. But at the same time I also received an email from a friend that this position was open. He recalled that I told him that I would love to be CIO of BYU–Hawaii someday. I let the email sit for about a week. The more I prayed the more I felt to just apply. So, I did, and to much surprise I got a call that same week asking me how interested I was in moving to Hawaii and in the position. I was then fortunate to get a call to schedule my first interview and then my second interview. By this time, I knew that I better let my husband know. I told him that if I make the finals that we would be flown out to Laie for a couple of days, and even if I don’t get the job at least we were able to get a free trip to Hawaii.

When we arrived here, I was called to remembrance and gratitude. Memories of our time here and the special spirit that is felt here filled my heart. Meeting my future team in my interviews felt right. But I was torn with the responsibilities of taking care of my mother, the distance from my children and grand-children, and missing out on my youngest son’s collegiate football games. On the second day of interviews, I woke up early to go running. I remember sitting in front of the temple and was torn on how this decision would affect my family especially my youngest son as my husband and I have supported all of our sons by being present at all their games. As I sat in front of the temple, I thought, “Lord if you need me here please help me to balance my time with my son and please help me to provide for my mother and take care of all that is needed.” When I got back to the guest house, I checked my phone and there was a text from my son saying that he supported me and wanted me to be happy. In my last interview knowing the sacrifices that will be made, I asked the team to pray for me and for them to know if I am the right fit for this position.

Upon returning to Utah, the next person that I needed to talk to was my mother. I wasn’t sure if she would be open to moving. But after family prayer, it was to my surprise that my mother was open to moving to Hawaii if I got the job. The final challenge was how my husband and I were going to make things work with him staying back in Utah to finish his coaching season as the Head Coach for Orem. At the time we thought three months would be no problem being away from each other. Let’s just say we are never doing that again.

Throughout that time, I stayed in touch with VP Kevin Schlag. We wanted to make sure that I was “ALL IN” if I was given the opportunity. Later that month, I received the call and was offered the position to serve as the new CIO. What a wonderful opportunity to have been here as a student that entered to learn, gone forth serve, and now return to give back. With much prayer and thought my husband and I felt that it was the right decision. It may not have made logical sense, but it made spiritual sense.

It was then the end of July, and things were set in motion. Packing and relocation began. My official start date was September 1. My mother, daughter, and I were packed and on a plane to start our new journey here. We were all excited for this next chapter. When we arrived, I didn’t have much time to settle and was quickly reminded of some of the challenges in returning to island life on the North Shore. So, I had a two-week adjustment of unpacking, getting settled, and adjusting to how far things are from Laie. Then I received the news that my sister had passed in American Samoa. Losing a sibling was unexpected and it didn’t really hit me until I got back from her funeral that she was no longer here with us. October and November came and the separation from my husband was easier said than done as we agreed on, but we made it work. But again, we are never doing that again. As the African Proverbs state,” If you want to go fast go alone if you want to go far go together.”

Then in December I received news of my father’s passing. I just got back from the trip that I made to reunite with my husband. We understand that death is part of living but when my father passed I was not prepared for the unexpected grief that I felt. This experience knocked me off my core. Many people know me as a smiley person and I can smile through a lot of things. But this time I could not smile. Losing a parent is something that we know will eventually happen but until it happens you don’t realize how much a part of you feels empty. I want to thank my husband who held it together for me and was patient with me and let me grieve. I am grateful that I witnessed miracles during my time of grief. The veil is truly thin.

I again see the Lord's hand in my life knowing that I needed to be here at this time. Losing loved ones is hard. I can see how some struggle to get past it. I am truly grateful that the Lord has given me this opportunity to be here. Being here to celebrate the New Year was truly a blessing.

Walking around Laie with my daughter that night was what I needed to get out of the funk I was in. I want to thank the community for the beautiful display of fireworks to welcome the new year. That day reminded me that is how each day should be celebrated. We should all wake up each day excited to start anew. Whatever was done yesterday was yesterday. Today is a new day.

In my association with some young friends I am reminded of how we are supported by the Savior’s atonement in trials and tribulation. I first met them about 1992 in a BYU married student stake where I served. I came to know them well and to learn much from their example. I speak of David and Sharilyn Evans and their children. Their experience gives tangible evidence of how the Savior reaches us in our adversities. I realize that their story of faith and courage and devotion is representative of others in our community who have also suffered—some of whom are gathered in this audience today. I recount the Evanses’ story here with their permission.

I saw the Evans family again at the 1994 BYU Homecoming Spectacular here in the Marriott Center. As my wife and I were about to take our seats near the concourse, I heard my name called. Turning around, I saw these friends and their children: one child in a wheelchair pushed along by his mother and the other supported in his father’s arms. Despite the infirmities they faced, these parents were happy and buoyant. They were enjoying the evening with their children.

As fine as the Homecoming performance was, I could not get the Evans family off my mind. Their cheerful faith and buoyant courage eclipsed even the brilliance on the stage before me. I simply could not stop thinking about and shedding tears over the little family behind me.

The young father—about the age of some of you here—had served with distinction on our student stake high council. More than once I had met both husband and wife in temple recommend interviews. There I learned that both of their children—then a beautiful four-year-old girl and a handsome two-year-old boy—have an incurable disease called spinal muscular atrophy that will progressively rob their muscles of strength and function.

It is a gloomy prognosis for these children and an incredible burden for their parents. One day the breath of life will ebb out of the children as muscles no longer respond to the brain signals to operate the heart and the lungs. There is little that medical science can do to stop this degeneration.

In the meantime, neither child can sit upright unaided by a bracing chair or supporting parent. Neither can walk. Neither can eat without food being lifted to their lips by a patient parent. Neither can turn over in bed without the benefit of a parent’s kindly hand.

How can their parents remain so cheerful in the face of these burdens? How can they be so full of faith in Heavenly Father and his plan of happiness? How is it that this mother and father have grown ever better, not bitter, as they have faced two of life’s cruel and unjust genetic mistakes? The answer lies in the Atonement of Jesus Christ. Sharilyn recently said to me, “I cannot begin to express the comfort and peace that have come to us through the Atonement of Jesus Christ.”

They have not borne their burdens alone. The Lord has been there with them in their adversity and has reached them in their trials to fill them with hope, to lighten their load, and to soothe their aching hearts. As they have braced and supported their children, so has the Savior braced and supported them. The Savior has shown them a brighter day when their young will run and laugh and play. He has extended to them his personal promise that “he will swallow up death in victory; and . . . will wipe away tears from off all faces.” And they will say, “We have waited for him, and he will save us: this is the Lord; we have waited for him, we will be glad and rejoice in his salvation” (Isaiah 25:8-9).

I would like to share an experience from my youth. When I was fifteen, I noticed that my vision was getting progressively worse. At the time, for a reason that I have a hard time understanding now, I didn’t want to recognize nor accept it. I hid the truth from my relatives and teachers, and my life began to get more and more difficult. Being unable to read the chalkboard, I had to copy over the shoulders of my classmates. When on the street, I was no longer able to read signs and traffic signals, which caused me to take the wrong bus many times and get lost.

Several months passed before a medical checkup in high school liberated me from my secret. I had to resign myself to wearing a magnificent pair of glasses, which, to my great surprise, made life much more practical and enjoyable than I had imagined!

The Smith family and others in their area were given opportunities to heft the ancient record and feel its individual plates at the Smith family home in Manchester Township, New York. Joseph’s younger brother William, age 16 in 1827, had a vivid memory of witnessing the plates, which he later shared in a sermon: “When the plates were brought in they were wrapped up in a tow frock. My father then put them into a pillow case. Father said, ‘What, Joseph, can we not see them?’ [Joseph responded,] ‘No. … I was forbidden to show them until they are translated, but you can feel them.’ We handled them and could tell what they were. … Could tell whether they were round or square. Could raise the leaves this way (raising a few leaves of the Bible before him). One could easily tell that they were not a stone, hewn out to deceive, or even a block of wood.”

On another occasion, William provided further information: “I could tell they were plates of some kind and that they were fastened together by rings running through the back.” He also wrote that in addition to feeling the individual plates and rings, he had hefted the entire artifact: “I was permitted to lift them. … They weighed about 60 pounds according to the best of my judgment.”

Even the committee’s biggest worry—where to house everyone—was resolved in laughter. Member homes are scarce in Fairbanks, and some are only rustic log houses.
“It was really funny,” chuckled one girl on the steering committee. “Some families were called and asked to take youths, and they would say, ‘Well, I can, but all we have is a honey bucket, and I don’t think girls would want to stay here.’” Everyone was finally given a place to stay, although it was real Alaska frontier-style for some—no running water, electricity, or telephone, but clouds of mosquitoes.