Gospel Story Finder

For me as a young teenager, school was about putting on an act. You know, the way the bad guy in the movies delivers the smooth, clever lines and comes off super cool in the process? I yearned to be able to do that. I tried to rule the screen just like the best of the bad guys. I pretended my morals were low because I wanted to impress my friends at school. I loved the sound of laughter when I used inappropriate language or joked about people.
I wanted to be the one audiences rooted for. So I figured out how to be a people pleaser. I became a regular comedy act in my biology class, managed to convince my volleyball team I was a party animal, and demolished my reputation as an innocent, naive young woman. I thought, “I don’t want my friends to think I’m a goody-goody!”
Since I wasn’t actually committing the serious sins people thought I was, I desperately tried to convince myself that it was OK to have a rough attitude. I was so wrong! My real-life movie-screen hit reached the point that I couldn’t stand to watch it myself. The more popular I became, the less I liked the character I played.
One day, two of my friends were talking about a sweet, friendly athlete named Jennifer who wasn’t embarrassed to stand up for her beliefs. One of my friends, the most gorgeous, popular, and smartest girl in the seventh grade, said, “Jennifer is so different. I wish I was brave enough to believe in my church like she does. She’s the only person I know who lives her life like that.” I was stunned.
“How could she say something like that without even mentioning me?” I wondered. “After all, my church has high standards!” I was furious that she hadn’t even considered me a good example. Then, suddenly, I felt like I was sitting on the front row of a movie theater showing my life as the main feature.
I reflected on the poor example I had been to my friends. What kind of kid was going to watch me and think, “I wish I was brave and unique like her”? I really disliked who I had become.
Changing my character and reputation was a long process, and I’m still trying to keep my mouth shut instead of blurting out crowd-pleasing insults. But I realized I could make my friends laugh without hurting someone else’s feelings, and I could leave the room during a crude joke without being ridiculed. No one has to be a “bad guy” to have lots of friends. I changed my attitudes and behaviors because being at peace with what I believe is so much cooler than trying to hide who I am.

When it was announced on Sunday that the young men in my ward were going to do baptisms for the dead, I just thought to myself, Too bad I can’t go. I never gave it another thought because I knew it would be too difficult for me to go. I have cerebral palsy.
After my mom picked me up from school on Tuesday (the day the young men were going to the temple), she said we needed to hurry because the bishop would be picking us up at 5:30 P.M. I didn’t even pay attention because I thought she was talking to my brother, Beau.
Then she said, “Bart, you need to hurry and eat and get showered and into your Sunday clothes.”
I said, “What? I’m going?”
She told me that the bishop didn’t want me to be left out and thought that it would be nice if I went and watched the other boys do baptisms for the dead. I couldn’t believe it. I was going to go to the temple!
As we hurried to get ready, I could hardly quit smiling; just the thought that I could go to the temple made me happy. Rick Hansen, my teachers quorum adviser, drove me to the temple in his nice, new van. My wheelchair fit inside just fine.
The temple was so beautiful. I had heard people say how strong the Spirit of the Holy Ghost is in the temple, and boy, were they right. I sat behind the window looking at the other boys being baptized, wishing I could be baptized too.
Just then Bishop Homer came over to me. “Come on,” he said. “We need to get you dressed.” I wasn’t sure what he meant or where we were going. He took me back to a special dressing room that was for temple workers, and he and Rick tried to figure out how to get the baptismal clothes on me. They did a pretty good job. I looked down at myself and thought it was neat to be dressed in white.
Then the temple worker gave me a card with my name on it. The bishop took me into the baptismal font area where I waited for my turn. As I sat and waited, a special feeling came over me. I kept looking up at the ceiling and thanking my Heavenly Father for this chance that he had given me. I also thought about the people I would be doing the baptisms for. I wondered what they would think about me, a handicapped boy, being baptized for them.
Then my turn came. It was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop. I felt as if all eyes were on me. The bishop scooped me up in his arms and carried me down into the baptismal font. It took both the bishop and Rick to baptize me because of my floppy trunk and stiff limbs. The bishop stopped after completing the ordinance for each name and made sure I was still breathing all right. I did a total of five baptisms. The bishop and Rick then dressed me, and the bishop even combed my hair with his comb. Beau told me that when the bishop pushed me out of the dressing room he had sweat coming down his face. I’m not sure the bishop realized how much work it was going to be to dress me.
As we went over to do the confirmations, I felt warm all over. I thought to myself, How could people not know that the Church is true? I was so grateful my bishop cared enough to give me the chance to be baptized in the temple. It’s so beautiful inside the temple. The powerful feeling inside just makes me feel that I know the Church is true.

A close personal friend learned this crucial lesson as an 18-year-old. He enlisted in the United States military during the conflict between the United States and Vietnam. He was assigned to basic training in the infantry to become a foot soldier. He explained that the training was grueling. He described his drill instructor as cruel and inhumane.

One particular day his squad was dressed in full battle gear, hiking in sweltering heat. The drill instructor suddenly shouted orders to drop to the ground and not move. The instructor was watching for even the slightest motion. Any movement would result in serious consequences later on. The squad suffered for more than two hours in the heat with growing anger and resentment toward their leader.

Many months later our friend found himself leading his squad through the jungles of Vietnam. This was real, not just training. Shots began to ring from high in the surrounding trees. The entire squad immediately dropped to the ground.

What was the enemy looking for? Movement. Any motion at all would draw fire. My friend said that as he lay sweating and motionless on the jungle floor, waiting for dark for several long hours, his thoughts reflected back on basic training. He remembered his intense dislike for his drill instructor. Now he felt intense gratitude—for what he had taught him and how he had prepared him for this critical situation. The drill instructor had wisely equipped our friend and his squad with the ability to know what to do when the battle was raging. He had, in effect, saved our friend’s life.

Heather and Jodi wanted to see what rock formations they could find in the valley, but it was almost dark. They needed a light to help them find their way. Willie, DuShan, and Tommy brought a lantern, and soon they all discovered rocks that looked like the faces of people and animals. One rock even seemed to be wearing a hat!
The next day the five friends returned to see what Goblin Valley looked like in the sunshine. The strange rock creatures were still there! DuShan found a formation that reminded her of a man with a big nose. On the edge of the valley, the children saw how soft dirt and rock wear away to leave harder sandstone behind. That’s how Goblin Valley was formed.
These rock formations are in desert country where it is very hot. The heat didn’t stop Tommy from exploring right away, but DuShan needed a rest and found a carved rock that cradled her just right.
The rest of the afternoon was spent jumping, climbing, and hiking. Jodi discovered a rock that may soon lose its head! Another rock looked like an animal. Can you guess which animal? At the entrance of this valley is a group of rocks some people call the Three Wise Men. Other people call it the Three Ugly Sisters.
Many other rock creatures guard Goblin Valley, and the formations are constantly, though only gradually, changing.
Jodi, Willie, Heather, Tommy, and DuShan wanted to stay longer, but the sun was going down. Remembering how scary Goblin Valley had been the night before, they said good-bye to their ghostly buddies.

Last year while Elder David S. Baxter and I were driving to a stake conference, we stopped at a restaurant. Later when returning to our car, we were approached by a woman who called out to us. We were startled by her appearance. Her grooming (or lack of it) was what I might politely call “extreme.” She asked if we were elders in the Church. We said yes. Almost unrestrained, she told the story of her tragic life, swamped in sin. Now, only 28 years old, she was miserable. She felt worthless, with nothing to live for. As she spoke, the sweetness of her soul began to emerge. Pleading tearfully, she asked if there was any hope for her, any way up and out of her hopelessness.

“Yes,” we responded, “there is hope. Hope is linked to repentance. You can change. You can ‘come unto Christ, and be perfected in him.’” We urged her not to procrastinate. She sobbed humbly and thanked us sincerely.

As Elder Baxter and I continued our journey, we pondered that experience. We recalled the counsel given to a hopeless soul by Aaron, who said, “If thou wilt repent of all thy sins, and will bow down before God, and call on his name in faith, … then shalt thou receive the hope which thou desirest.”

In Brisbane, Australia, a seven-year-old boy pleaded with his father to join the Church so his father could baptize him. While his father had attended church for several years and had good experiences there, he had not taken the step to be baptized. When I met with them, I extended a bold invitation to the dad to accept his son’s loving request. He gently declined. And yet the love remains. The invitation remains. The agency remains. Sometimes the seed is planted long before it breaks the soil.

My testimony recently got stronger when Heavenly Father answered one of my prayers. I asked Him if I could not be an only child anymore (my two older brothers had died as soon as they were born). Where I live, there aren’t many kids, and so I really wanted to have a sister or a brother. Two months ago, my mom had a baby! When I found out that I was going to have a little sister, I was very excited because I’d waited nine years. My mom and dad let me help pick the new baby’s name, and I chose to call her Anastasia. I know that praying is a good thing to do.
Alex Buchholz, age 9Spearfish, South Dakota

Evan Payne owned and operated a gasoline and auto repair station in Thousand Oaks, California. He was quick with a smile and even quicker to remember people’s names. He knew his customers, their children, and their cars. Evan worked long hours, six days a week, and was genuinely interested in helping people. He gave jobs to teenagers who had family problems or who were preparing for or returning from missions. He would stay late or arrive early to accommodate a customer. Nearly everyone in town knew Evan Payne and liked him.
Evan was also busy at home and at church. He and his wife, Becky, had five children, ages 7 to 13. He had served twice as a counselor in the bishopric, as bishop, and now as a counselor in our stake presidency.
Evan was young, athletic, happy, and outgoing. He had dark hair and a handsome face. He loved to ski and play Church softball and basketball. So it didn’t seem possible when I heard that Evan had leukemia.
In the months following his diagnosis there were family, ward, and stake fasts. Evan went through chemotherapy and radiation. When Evan’s illness did not go into remission, his brothers were tested to determine if they could be bone marrow donors. None matched. He and Becky got their affairs in order and prepared for the worst, but in spite of the pain Evan remained upbeat and positive. He continued to work nearly every day, although he was clearly suffering.
One day my office phone rang. “Joel,” Evan said, “what are you doing tonight? I want you to come with me to give a blessing to someone in your ward. Can you do it?”
“Sure,” I said. “Who are we going to bless?”
“Sally Carlisle (names have been changed). She is an elderly lady from San Diego. She is in town visiting her daughter, Joan Wilson, who isn’t active. I should be taking the Wilsons’ home teacher, but I don’t know who it is, and she needs a blessing right away. Can you pick me up?”
I had a sudden sinking feeling, and a wave of guilt flooded over me. For many months I had been assigned to home teach the Wilson family, but I had not even called them. Numerous times I had intended to call or stop by, but each time I rationalized my way out. I had not done my duty. I told Evan I would pick him up at 7:00.
As we drove Evan explained that the Wilsons had been customers at his service station for many years. Joan had been raised in the Church but had drifted into inactivity as a young adult. She had married Mike Wilson, who was not a member of the Church, and they had raised their four boys in Mike’s religion. Evan explained that we would be giving a blessing to Joan’s mother, who had the flu. Joan had called Evan at the station and asked him to come. He was the only member of the Church she knew.
When we arrived at the Wilson home, Joan greeted us at the door but excused herself while we visited with her mother. Sally explained how much she wanted her daughter to come back to the Church and how she prayed for Mike and Joan to be able to receive the blessings of the gospel. After we visited for a few minutes, I anointed Sally and Evan blessed her. It was a simple blessing of comfort and good health.
As I drove Evan home, I felt grateful to have witnessed that priesthood blessing. I was also grateful for the introduction to the Wilson family and for spending those moments with Evan Payne, who passed away just a few months later.
In the following years I visited the Wilson home regularly. They welcomed me and remembered me as Evan’s friend. At first we just talked about Evan and what a great power for good he had been in our community. I remained the Wilsons’ home teacher for 15 years, and I tried to be like Evan and help whenever I could. Mike and Joan became my good friends and blessed my life in return.
Although Joan did not return to activity and Mike did not join the Church, I will always treasure their love and friendship. I was serving as bishop when Joan passed away. At the time of her death, Mike donated a large sum to the ward missionary fund. That money supported a missionary from our ward who joined the Church as a teenager and had no family resources to allow him to serve. Mike’s contribution indirectly touched the lives of the many converts that young elder taught.
Although I am certain Evan Payne did not intend to teach me any lessons that night many years ago, I learned that it is no burden to be about the Lord’s business. I try to be, as Evan was, truly interested in and concerned for our Heavenly Father’s children. And as a home teacher I try to be as faithful as Evan was and as the Savior would want me to be.

Illustration by Allen Garns
Several times a year, my work requires that I travel from Taiwan to San Francisco, California, USA, for training. The problem with traveling between these two places is the 15-hour time difference. Jet lag made me want to sleep during the day, and it kept me awake all night.
Colleagues from all over the world attend these trainings. They told me they coped with jet lag by drinking coffee to keep them awake and drinking red wine to help them sleep.
Some colleagues offered me these drinks, but I politely told them I was a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and had promised the Lord I would not drink wine or coffee. Some teased me and said those commandments made my life harder. At times, it felt like I was being mocked by the people in the great and spacious building in Lehi’s dream (see 1 Nephi 8:26–27).
Over time, however, keeping the Word of Wisdom began to feel like a tedious burden. During one sleepless night, I realized my faith was weakening. Thankfully, my wife sent me a message that day encouraging me to keep my faith, rely on God, and keep His commandments regardless of the circumstances. With her encouragement, I started to pray for help and began to look at things differently.
On one trip, I noticed a colleague had two cups of coffee. I asked him about the second cup.
“One cup is not strong enough to keep me alert anymore,” he replied.
I was surprised to notice the same was true for those who drank wine. They needed to drink more to sleep. Sometimes, they even overslept because they drank too much.
Watching my colleagues become more dependent on alcohol and coffee made me realize how important it is to keep the commandments. If I had chosen to disobey the Word of Wisdom, I could have been in the same boat.
My jet lag has not completely gone away, but the situation has improved. One morning, I woke up after a good night’s sleep and saw the sunrise. As the sunbeams shone through the window, I realized that with Heavenly Father’s help, I can handle any trial, no matter how big or small. I just need to continue to obey, keep my faith strong, and endure to the end.

Karl ran down the boat dock, excited to see his dad. Karl’s father was a fisherman, and Karl often ran out to the boat to meet him at the end of the day.
“Hurry, Papa!” Karl called. “I want to show you a picture I drew for you today!”
“Great!” Papa said. “But I need to tie up the boat first.”
Karl watched Papa carefully tie the boat to the dock with a thick rope. “Why do you have to tie it so tight?” Karl asked as Papa pulled on a large knot.
Papa pointed to a boat on the shore that had a large hole in the bottom. “That boat wasn’t tied up well. In the last storm, it got loose and crashed onto some rocks.”
Karl’s eyes widened.
“Can you think of how Heavenly Father helps us stay tied to Him so we can be safe?” Papa asked.
“The scriptures?” Karl guessed.
“That’s right,” Papa said. “He also gives us priesthood ordinances like baptism and the sacrament. Mama and I got married in the temple so our family could be tied together forever.”
Karl grabbed the rope and helped Papa give it a final tug. “We make the tightest knot of all!”

On 16 October, the St Albans Stake hosted a family fun day for Syrian and Iranian refugees. Working in partnership with local charity Herts Welcomes Refugees (HWR), members of the stake ran craft activities for children, outdoor games for teenagers, blanket making and chess and card games for adults. A speaker from Herts Wildlife gave a talk about animals in Syria and a magician entertained members and guests while they enjoyed homemade halal meat pizzas and popcorn. Members and guests also joined together to make baby blankets for Project Linus, a volunteer organisation providing homemade quilts and blankets to sick and traumatised children. Arab music played in the background and members soon learned how to say simple Arabic words: ‘shukran’ (thank you), and ‘salaam alaikum’ (hello).
Volunteer members were overwhelmed by the positive responses from the guests, who spoke of their appreciation for the fun event and the warm welcome they received at the stake centre. A man from Syria described the day as beautiful. Many refugees feel isolated from the communities in which they live. HWR volunteer and stake Relief Society first counselor, Joyce Farnsworth, described the event as an opportunity for members to extend the hand of friendship to refugees and to give them an opportunity to practice English, have fun and to feel welcome.
Our stake JustServe lead, Sister Catherine Bruce, shared an uplifting experience from the event: “Although we were not proselyting, I was asked about the Church’s beliefs by a volunteer from HWR as we sat together helping children with crafts. She was interested in lay clergy and asked what I did in the Church. I said I was involved in community outreach, which provoked a very positive response from this woman. She felt that was what it’s all about. I agreed wholeheartedly.”
In 2016, Elder Patrick Kearon1 reminded Church members that the Jesus Christ Himself was once a refugee, fleeing to Egypt as a young child to escape King Herod. Approaching the Christmas season, this event helped members heed the Saviour’s counsel that serving others is the same as serving Him.2 By blessing and welcoming refugees, the members themselves felt blessed to feel the true spirit of JustServe.

For the past year I thought there were too many rules in the Church, and I thought, “How can it be fun in heaven?” I felt like I was tied to the Church and it was impossible to break free.
I then watched my friends’ lives. Why didn’t I go through some of the trials they did? One night it hit me—I didn’t get into that stuff because I followed the rules that Heavenly Father set out for me. I also figured out that if you follow the rules, you can be happy and can raise a family and live with Heavenly Father and Jesus for eternity.
Stephanie H., age 13, Utah, USA

The summer morning was crisp and cool as I stood on the banks of the Snake River. My thoughts were intent upon the beauties of nature and the handiwork of an all-wise Heavenly Father. I had come to this favorite spot on a few other occasions. Nearby were the headgates of the great feeder canals which furnish the water for the fertile fields of several counties.
Deep in thought and contemplation, I observed a tiny object some great distance up the river. As it came closer I was able to determine that it was a rubber raft. It was not until a few minutes later that I could see there were several people sitting around the edges of the small raft. Ahead of them was a bend in the great river, just where I was standing. The water was high and very swift. To follow the main course of the river was safe, and it was traveled by hundreds of boaters every year. But I sensed the little party was having trouble in rounding the bend, and the raft was being sucked closer to the feeder gates. I felt that danger lay ahead for this company that appeared to be a family.
Quickly I reached the structure where the water rushed into the great feeder canal under the cement. Cars could drive across the dam, and I judged it was 60–70 feet across. As I looked over the edge of the feeder gates, I could see that the raft had come to rest against the cement. There were several large, swift water holes sucking under it. Then I saw that a young father and mother, a grandmother, and two little boys, the occupants of the raft were standing up, trying to push themselves along the cement wall to the bank where they could get to safety. The father reached his hand up toward me and shouted, “Help us!” Oh, how I wanted to. I reached down as far as I could for his hand, but he was three feet below my reach. As he desperately reached toward me, I saw the raft turn on its side. With all five family members, it was sucked under the swirling water.
I was horrified! My first thought was that they would be caught under the dam on the iron rods that were placed there to catch the limbs that drifted down the river. I turned to see if they would come out the other side.
The water was jumping eight to ten feet high in a foaming froth as it came into the mighty canal. I ran from the dam down the side of the canal. I saw the father come up through the foaming water, then the mother. Both appeared to be good swimmers. I heard the grandmother screaming. She was 50 yards downstream and apparently could not swim. I ran down the bank and was able to bring her safely to shore.
We all stood on the bank petrified. Where were the two little boys? The mother was screaming at the top of her voice. The father was running up and down the banks of the roaring stream. Neither of the little boys surfaced. I was the sole witness of this tragic scene.
At that moment a car crossed the dam toward us. I gave the driver a quick explanation, and he hurried for help. In just moments more people came and soon the banks of the canal were crowded. Motor boats were going up and down the canal, but to no avail. The two little boys could not be found.
In a moment of crisis and tragedy many thoughts and questions fill our minds. My mind was racing wildly. In a split second I had seen a happy family transformed into a family of panic, grief, sadness, and loneliness, just because they failed to negotiate a bend in the river, just because the turbulence had sucked them into the wrong channel and away from the right course. My heart ached for this young father and mother as I saw the look of grief and despair on their saddened faces.
As I drove home, my mind was troubled. Two young boys had drowned. What is death? Only a temporary separation, if plans have been made in the temple to be an eternal family. But what of parents who lose a son or daughter to turbulences in the stream of life, who get sucked into the wrong channels of bad habits and wrongdoing? A son or daughter who loses a testimony, faith, and sometimes even hope? I have witnessed happy families made sad, who suffer for a lifetime because a member of the family failed to stay on the proper course.

I thought other youth would be interested in hearing about the Punta Arenas Branch, southernmost branch of the Church in the world, I believe. When Isaiah said, “… utter it even to the end of the earth,” he must have been referring to Punta Arenas, Chile! We’re on the Straights of Magellan, facing Tierra del Fuego. The wildlife and beauty of the Patagonia is outstanding: sharp green mountains, grazed by guanacos; blue waters filled with trout and salmon; and birdlife ranging from parrots to ostriches, ducks, swans, flamingos, and an occasional penguin.
Our branch is at the tender age of four years and has a membership of two hundred Saints. Jaime, our MIA president, and Carlos, an MIA officer, both youth, have been working all year to save enough money to cover their traveling expenses to the international youth conference to be held in Arica, Chile, at the northern end of the country. It’s been a long, hard job, involving window cleaning, cakes sales, and cleaning houses, but they have finally made it. That’s what it means to be a Latter-day Saint down here.
Elder Gary WeldChile Mission

Years of miracles and opportunities led Australian Scott Hamilton to a first place Praiseworthy Award from the career development organisation, Latter-day Saints in Publishing, Media and the Arts (LDSPMA).
A member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Scott attended the LDSPMA Awards Gala held at Utah Valley University, in Orem, Utah, USA, in October 2023, where he accepted his Praiseworthy Award for a demo video of his original song, ‘I See the Christ.’
Scott wrote the winning song for a musical he is developing called One Spring Morn, which celebrates the lives of the Prophet Joseph Smith and his wife Emma. ‘I See the Christ’ and another song from the musical, ‘Bring on Tomorrow’, were both shortlisted for awards in the Musical Theatre category.
Produced in Salt Lake City in 2022, the demo video for ‘I See the Christ’ features vocalists Casey Elliot, from the musical trio Gentri, and Savannah Stevenson, a leading lady from London’s West End. They are accompanied by Jayne Galloway on piano and Grammy-nominated cellist, Nicole Pinnell.
Scott first saw Nicole play in the film adaptation of Rob Gardner’s musical production, Lamb of God, where, through her cello, she stunningly represented the voice of Christ. Following a prompting that spoke to his heart, Scott reached out to her via social media.
“I feel that Heavenly Father truly opened a door for me through Nicole’s incredible talent, generosity and connections,” Scott recalls. “I am so grateful that she had the heart to be willing to listen to my music.”
Nicole introduced Scott to Casey Elliot, and Scott reached out to Savannah Stevenson, also via social media, after seeing her perform on a Brigham Young University programme. Savannah sang the solo for, “Bring on Tomorrow,’ and in the duet, ‘I See the Christ’ with Casey.
When filming for the demo video was complete, shortly after returning to Australia, Scott suffered a brain aneurysm and extensive bleed in the frontal lobe of his brain. An emergency surgery preserved his life and thankfully—miraculously—he was able to continue with his music.
That same year in May, he remotely directed the recordings of two more of his songs, connecting by Zoom in to Salt Lake City’s Funk Studios.
“I am eternally grateful to Heavenly Father and the amazing surgeons for saving my life, and for my wife, Jo, for gently pushing me on this musical journey for nearly 15 years,” says Scott.
He is equally grateful for his parents, Nanette and Frank, who nurtured his musical talent from childhood. Shortly before Scott’s mother passed away in 2020, he promised her he would continue writing music, and so he has.
“Having a close call with death causes one to refocus one’s priorities in life. For me they are faith and family, and of course more faith-promoting music,” says Scott.
He is now orchestrating and preparing for the launch of his long-awaited musical, One Spring Morn. With a premiere expected in 2025—exactly 205 years since the First Vision of Joseph Smith—its story will explore the experiences of Joseph and Emma Smith, their feelings of faith and devotion to their Saviour, Jesus Christ, and their gratitude for His tender mercies.
Look out for a preview concert based on this musical in Melbourne, Australia, in June.

Recently Sister Nelson and I were in Denmark during the commemoration of the 150th anniversary of the Church in Scandinavia. Between meetings, we took a few hours to search for villages where two of my father’s grandparents were born. They were among the early converts to the Church in Denmark. Father’s paternal grandmother’s family lived in the western part of the country. His paternal grandfather’s family lived in northern Denmark. Thanks to a good driver and a superb map, we found each town on our list and obtained treasured information. During the entire journey, my hands were riveted to that valuable map so essential to achieve our goals.

In our journey in Denmark, we met an unexpected detour that led us astray. In order to get back on course, we stopped the car. We studied the map with great care. Then we made the necessary course correction.

Dillon has a terrible problem: his greatest talent is also his greatest fear. “I love to sing,” the 16-year-old Tongan says, “but not in front of people. I get too scared.”
Imagine his mixed feelings when the Church in Tonga announced auditions for vocalists to record a Tongan version of the Old Testament seminary soundtrack. He was both excited and scared to death.
Three songs on the soundtrack require a male vocalist. After Dillon had sung the song for which he was auditioning, the producer surprised him by asking him to sing another of the songs on the soundtrack. As nervous as he was, he did it, and the producer said, “We found our boy.”
Much to his excitement—and dismay—Dillon was offered the opportunity to record all three songs.
Dillon, a member of the Nuku‘alofa Tonga Stake, excels in school. He’s one of about 10 percent of Tongan students selected to attend the government school. He also enjoys seminary. “He wakes us up early so he can get to seminary,” his mother, Malenita, says.
But singing is what he loves—though his family didn’t even know he could until he was asked to sing a solo during a Primary program one year.
“Dillon’s always been shy,” his mother says.
He did so well in the Primary program that he was asked to sing during a conference of the Nuku‘alofa Tonga Stake. After that he was hooked.
He told his mom, “One day I’m going to use my talent for God.” After he was chosen to sing on the soundtrack, he told her, “Mom, I used my talent.”
Dillon’s older brother, Sione, says he tries to encourage Dillon to sing. “I would love to have the talent he does,” he says. “Everybody wants him to share it.”
“I like it when he sings,” says his sister, Pea.
“I want to sing like him some day,” says his nine-year-old brother, Paula.
Dillon is grateful for his family’s support. “I love my family,” he says. “I’m sure that with their help, I can make my weakness a strength.”
As Dillon worked with the sound crew to record the songs, he struggled with one note. “I couldn’t hit it,” he says. “We rehearsed for hours.”
Finally, exhausted and discouraged, he went home that night, knowing that the next morning he’d have to record the song.
“I went straight to my room and prayed to my Heavenly Father to help me,” he says.
All he could think about was how important the soundtrack would be to the 50,000 members of the Church in Tonga, as well as thousands of others who speak Tongan around the world.
“It was one of the longest nights of my life,” he says.
After a long night of prayer and a little bit of sleep, Dillon walked into the recording studio and hit the note.
“Hallelujah,” he remembers saying. “I was happy.”
One of Dillon’s favorite scriptures is Joshua 1:9: “Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.”
Dillon put that promise to the test, and he learned it was true. “I tried my best. I put my best effort and heart into the songs so the listeners will be able to feel the Spirit.”
As Dillon grows out of his fear and into his talents, he recognizes he has received a lot of help—not only from his family but from his Heavenly Father.
“I know,” he says, “that God answered my prayers.”

Twenty people crowded into the small home of Erich Konietz in Selbongen, Poland. Some had traveled more than nine hours to get to Selbongen, and among them were seven young children. These boys and girls weren’t old enough to understand just what the meeting meant, but they could feel the wonder and excitement of friends being together again.
The date was October 17, 1970. Percy Fetzer of Salt Lake City, Utah, had been specially ordained by the First Presidency of the Church to give patriarchal blessings to members behind the Iron Curtain. M. Elmer Christensen, president of the Switzerland Mission, had arranged for him to go to Selbongen and had sent word to the members of the branch to meet with him on that wonderful Saturday afternoon.
President Christensen first told the group about the death of David O. McKay, the ninth president of the Church. He had been able to bring a picture of Joseph Fielding Smith, who was now the tenth president. He told the group the names of all of the General Authorities and had them say the names again and again until even the young children could repeat them.
Sister Fetzer and Sister Christensen told the Saints about Sunday School and Primary programs for children. Young and old learned some songs, including “I Am a Child of God,” which they especially liked. No one there had heard this song before, and they learned the words quickly and sang it with great feeling. Although they couldn’t write the words down on paper, they recorded the melody in their hearts and minds.
The members of the Selbongen Branch who crowded the Konietz home had once been free to enjoy each other and their membership in the Church. They had even built a small chapel in 1928—the first chapel of the Church ever built in Germany. But in 1945 war came to their country and many of them left their homes to escape the invading Russian army.
Some of the Church members who fled walked for days, taking with them only what they could carry. Others loaded their belongings into handcarts. A few were able to scramble aboard trains. Many died trying to escape.
Those who stayed in their own homes and survived the horrors of war found afterward that they were no longer citizens of Germany. Their land had been given to Poland. Because of this the people had to endure many hardships, and they were greatly limited in where they could go and what they could do. In spite of these difficulties, however, the small group of Church members managed to meet together. They were more than six hundred miles from any other Latter-day Saints, but by a miracle their lives and their chapel had been spared. Their hearts were full of gratitude.
Now they were meeting together, hearing news of their brothers and sisters, and receiving Patriarchal blessings from Brother Fetzer. It was a wonderful day!
While giving the blessings, Brother Fetzer was inspired to promise some that if they lived the gospel, they would go to a temple. He promised others that they would go on missions. These things seemed impossible on that day in October 1970, but since that time, all German people living in Poland have been given permission to move to West Germany.
It is very possible that the promises of those blessings for the Saints of Selbongen might soon be fulfilled!

I was in despair and needed strength beyond my own.
I had recently gotten divorced from my husband and still had an unhealthy relationship with him. I had also just given birth to a baby girl, but after praying and pondering about my unique circumstances, I made the difficult decision to put her up for adoption because I felt like I wouldn’t be able to raise and support her on my own.
My self-worth was at its lowest point.
Grieving the loss of my marriage and baby girl at the same time was almost unbearable. I believed in eternal families, but my divorce and adoption placements were final, and there was no hope of being a family with these two people in the eternities. The pain felt truly overwhelming.
Through all the pain, I stayed active in the Church, being the best disciple of Christ I knew how to be. Nevertheless, I could not seem to break my unhealthy relationship with my ex-husband, which often occurs in a cycle of emotional abuse (like the one I was in). I knew logically that I needed to set stricter boundaries for myself with him, but I could not make myself do it.
I talked to my bishop about my situation and how I felt like my ex-husband had an unseen hold on me. In his attempts to support me, my bishop asked questions like, “Are you going to church every week?” “Are you faithfully magnifying your callings?” “Are you saying your prayers daily?”
I was able to answer yes to all these questions.
But then he asked, “Are you reading the Book of Mormon regularly?”
I admitted I was not.
He challenged me to start reading it, and I did.
When I got to Jacob chapter 2, the messages really started to resonate with me.
Jacob’s soul was burdened because of the strict commandment he had received from God—to admonish his brethren according to their crimes. Jacob 2:7 says, “It grieveth me that I must use so much boldness of speech concerning you, before your wives and your children, many of whose feelings are exceedingly tender and chaste and delicate before God, which thing is pleasing unto God.”
Jacob 2:35 says, “Ye have broken the hearts of your tender wives, and lost the confidence of your children, because of your bad examples before them; and the sobbings of their hearts ascend up to God against you.”
As I read, the Spirit testified to me that God was aware of my situation. God knew I was one of the tender wives whose hearts were broken. I shed many tears over my situation.
I experienced increased hope and fortitude as I continued to study the Book of Mormon faithfully. I journaled my thoughts and the truths I learned as I read. Within just a few weeks, I felt stronger than I had ever felt in my life! I found the strength and power to see clearly and begin to let go of my grief, and I was able to start moving forward. I knew this power came from studying the Book of Mormon.
President Russell M. Nelson recently taught: “Few things build faith more than does regular immersion in the Book of Mormon. No other book testifies of Jesus Christ with such power and clarity. Its prophets, as inspired by the Lord, saw our day and selected the doctrine and truths that would help us most. The Book of Mormon is our latter-day survival guide.”1
When I heard our prophet say this, I realized we receive strength from reading the Book of Mormon because it testifies of Jesus Christ with more power than any other book. Jesus Christ is the source of strength! And regular immersion in the Book of Mormon builds our faith, which gives us the power to face and overcome challenges.
I am so grateful I was blessed with the strength to break the unhealthy cycle with my ex-husband. It took a while for me to forgive him, but as I continued to study the Book of Mormon, I learned it was possible for me to forgive through the power of Jesus Christ’s Atonement.

Let’s just cite one more example where the Lord watched over and protected his Saints in the Church. This is found in the History of the Church: There were threats of a mob on June 19, 1834. As the Mormons were making camp, five men rode up and told them that they would “see hell before morning.” They stated that an armed force from Richmond, Ray, and Clay counties was to join a Jackson County force at the Fishing River ford, bent on the utter destruction of the camp.
While these five men were in the camp, cursing and swearing vengeance, signs of an approaching storm were seen. No sooner had these men left the camp than the storm burst forth in all its fury. Hailstones struck, so large that they cut limbs from the trees, and the limbs fell all around the camp while the trees were twisted from their roots by the force of the wind. The earth trembled and quaked, and the streams became raging torrents, and the mobbers dispersed, seeking shelter that could not be found. One mobber was killed by lightning and another had his hand torn off by a fractious horse, and in fear they dispersed, saying that if that was the way God fought for the “Mormons” they would go about their business.
On the morning of June 21 (just two days later) Colonel Sconce, with two companions, visited the camp to learn what the intentions of the members were. He said: “I see there is an almighty power that protects this people, for I started from Richmond, Ray County, with a company of armed men, having a fixed determination to destroy you, but was kept back by the storm.”
The Prophet then related to these men the sufferings of the Saints, and they left the camp offering to use their influence. (See History of the Church, 2:103–6.)
During all this storm the members of the camp were protected from its fury. Why were they protected? Because of their collective obedience to the Lord.