Gospel Story Finder

Years ago, I felt a lot like young Joseph. I was confused by the “war of words and tumult of opinions” (Joseph Smith—History 1:10) coming from many different churches in Fiji. When I first met the missionaries, I had so many questions. Some have teased that I am a slow learner because I spent eight years investigating the Church. My conversion began through understanding the name of the Church.

During His mortal ministry, Jesus Christ established His Church. Over time, the doctrine and priesthood authority of His Church became lost. In our day, Jesus Christ restored through the Prophet Joseph Smith the same church He established when He lived on earth (see Articles of Faith 1:6). He also commanded through revelation, “For thus shall my church be called in the last days, even The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints” (Doctrine and Covenants 115:4).

The Church bears the name of Jesus Christ because it is His Church! After eight years, this truth resonated in my mind and heart. I was baptized at age 27 and soon called as a counselor in the ward Young Men presidency and an early-morning seminary teacher. Along the way, my testimony continued to grow.

My life transformed as I taught seminary, attended sacrament meeting, and listened to general conference. I also felt the soothing, comforting, and inspiring influence of the Spirit as I read the Book of Mormon—a tangible evidence and manifestation of the Restoration and the prophetic call of Joseph Smith.

When the Lord called Joseph “and spake unto him from heaven, and gave him commandments” (Doctrine and Covenants 1:17), He showed that He “does inspire men and call them to his holy work in this age and generation, as well as in generations of old” and that “he is the same God yesterday, today, and forever” (Doctrine and Covenants 20:11–12).

The Restoration that began with Joseph continues today. As Latter-day Saints, we are called to speak in the Savior’s name so “that faith … might increase in the earth,” His “everlasting covenant might be established,” and “the fulness of [His] gospel might be proclaimed by the weak and the simple unto the ends of the world” (Doctrine and Covenants 1:21–23). We are blessed to be able to help build up the Church and prepare the world for that day when Jesus Christ returns.

Elder and Sister Wakolo (far right) were endowed and sealed in the Nuku’alofa Tonga Temple in August 1995, a year after Elder Wakolo joined the Church. They are shown here with the temple presidency.

A year after my baptism, my wife, Anita, and I traveled to the Nuku’alofa Tonga Temple to be sealed for time and all eternity. My testimony of the Restoration made going to the temple so meaningful. The restored gospel of Jesus Christ truly means everything! My heart is filled with gratitude for the blessings it has brought to me and my family.

These precious blessings have come to the world through “Joseph Smith, the Prophet and Seer of the Lord, [who] has done more, save Jesus only, for the salvation of men in this world, than any other man that ever lived in it” (Doctrine and Covenants 135:3). We must be ever grateful for—and never lose sight of—what we have been given through the prophet of this last dispensation.

“Come on, Jodi! It’s only one soccer match! God isn’t going to hate you for playing just this once on Sunday.”
“That’s right,” thought Jodi Allen, a seventeen-year-old from Sandy, Utah, and the best goalkeeper on her championship soccer team. “It is only one soccer match.” But to play in it would break a personal promise she’d made to Heavenly Father years before.
But how could she explain that to the teammates who were pressuring her to play? As a team, they had worked hard all season, winning the Utah state championship and traveling to the regional tournament in San Francisco, California, to compete against other winning teams from throughout the western United States. They had successfully played a couple of tournament matches and now had the opportunity to play a team that had beaten them the previous year. Jodi’s team wanted revenge, and a win for the team would place them in the regional finals.
But the game was scheduled for Sunday.
“Oh Jodi! Who do you think you are? Some of us are members of the Church too, and we’re playing on Sunday. Do you think you’re better than we are?”
So there was never a question about playing on Sunday—not even in this tournament. But making her teammates understand was another story.
“Look,” she tried to explain, “if I don’t play on Sunday, I’ll disappoint my team, and I feel bad about that. But if I do play on Sunday, I’ll disappoint so many more. I’ll disappoint myself, because I’d be breaking a promise. I’d disappoint my parents, who know how important that promise is to me. I’d disappoint my cousins, who don’t play on Sunday because of my example, and I’d disappoint my seminary teachers, who have taught me better. But most important of all, I’d disappoint God. I just can’t do that.”
It was a great explanation, but it didn’t do Jodi much good. All Saturday night the team tried to convince her to play. They made fun of her. They called her every name they could think of. Finally, at about midnight, Jodi telephoned home in tears. It wasn’t that she was tempted to give in. It’s just that she felt so alone.
Her parents listened. Her parents understood. Both her mother and father got on the telephone and had a prayer with her. After they hung up, they called an old friend in the San Francisco area and asked her to give Jodi some support.
The next morning Jodi got up and got dressed—in a dress, which she wore as she stood on the sidelines watching her team play. The final score was one-to-one. After the game, many of her teammates apologized for being so critical of her.
The team took third place overall in the tournament, which was better than they’d ever done before. Jodi thought this would be a highlight on which to end her soccer career.

Youth all over the world are drawn to temples. In Lima, Peru, I met a father and three of his daughters outside the entrance of the temple. I saw the light in their faces. Two of the daughters were severely disabled and sitting in wheelchairs. The third daughter, while attending to her sisters’ needs, explained she had two more sisters at home. They too were in wheelchairs. They were unable to travel the 14 hours to the temple. The temple meant so much to this father and his daughters that four of them had come to the temple that day—two of them simply to observe the one who could be baptized for the dead and perform that sacred ordinance. Like Nephi, they “[delighted] in the covenants of the Lord.”5

I had been a missionary in southern Brazil for just over a year. My companion and I were driving to Florianópolis to pick up a sick missionary and bring him back to the mission headquarters for treatment. The four-hour trip south on the winding, pothole-riddled highway had been fairly uneventful. We enjoyed the bright day and beautiful forest scenery as we drove and talked, and soon we reached our destination. At about 4 p.m. we began the trip with the sick elder back to the mission office.
After an hour or so on the road, though, the weather changed drastically. The clouds gathered and within 15 minutes our day had gone from sun to heavy fog and rain. I was driving at the time, and it became impossible to see where we were going. None of us was very familiar with the road, and we knew we couldn’t navigate the curves and potholes without being able to see. We couldn’t tell if an exit was near, so we carefully pulled over to the side of the road and said a prayer.
When we finished, we sat quietly, waiting in faith for the help we had asked for. After a few minutes, a truck going 15 miles per hour or so passed by. We couldn’t really make out the truck itself, but we saw its taillights. Another truck soon followed, and then another. Each one passed slowly and carefully, and each one had red taillights bright enough for us to see. And this was the answer to our prayer.
As the next truck passed by, we carefully eased in just behind it, following its bright red taillights. We stayed close enough to see the lights clearly, but back far enough to be safe. In this way we were able to navigate in the rain and fog using the truck as our guide. The driver was obviously very familiar with the road—he was moving very slowly but confidently. We safely followed him and other truck drivers until the weather cleared enough for us to find our own way.
I’m sure the truck driver didn’t even know we were there. Yet he led us until we could see well enough to navigate the precarious road ourselves.

Blessings come in surprising ways. In February 2013, I had been serving for six years as an Area Seventy in the Pacific Area and had been asked to extend for a seventh. We had, however, been invited to the Office of the First Presidency, and my wife, Kay, and I were waiting to meet with then-­President Dieter F. Uchtdorf in his office. The thought that he was about to call me as a General Authority had not entered my mind, and we were even more surprised when he told us that we would be living and serving in West Africa until we received a new assignment some years in the future.
We did not suspect that our hearts were about to be filled with love for the wonderful West African people. But they quickly were. Immediately we arrived in Accra and began to meet the members of the Church and others in the countries of Ghana, Nigeria, Côte d’Ivoire, Sierra Leone, Liberia, Togo, Benin, Senegal, Guinea, Mali, The Gambia, and Burkina Faso. What incredible blessings we have received, and what wonderful eternal relationships have been forged.

My grandparents have had a great influence on my life. Even though they have been dead for many years, I still feel their confirming love. One grandfather, James Akerley Faust, died before I was born. I knew him only through the stories my grandmother and my parents told about him. However, I feel a strong kinship with him because I am in part what he was. Among other things, he was a cowboy, a rancher, and a postmaster in a small town in central Utah. On one occasion Grandfather took a trip in the winter to Idaho, where he met an acquaintance who had fallen on hard times. It was cold, and Grandfather’s friend had no coat. Grandfather took off his coat and gave it to him.

This evening I encourage you young men to begin to unlock the knowledge of who you really are by learning more about your forebears. Alex Haley, the author of the book Roots, said: “In all of us there is a hunger, marrow-deep, to know our heritage—to know who we are and where we have come from. Without this enriching knowledge, there is a hollow yearning. No matter what our attainments in life, there is still a vacuum, an emptiness, and the most disquieting loneliness.” We can have exciting experiences as we learn about our vibrant, dynamic ancestors. They were very real, living people with problems, hopes, and dreams like we have today.
In many ways each of us is the sum total of what our ancestors were. The virtues they had may be our virtues, their strengths our strengths, and in a way their challenges could be our challenges. Some of their traits may be our traits. I noticed a while ago that one of my great-grandsons, a toddler, seemed to have an interesting kind of a walk. My wife said, “He walks just like you do!” Now I wonder from whom I inherited this characteristic.
It is a joy to become acquainted with our forebears who died long ago. Each of us has a fascinating family history. Finding your ancestors can be one of the most interesting puzzles you young men can work on.
Each of us has to begin this work somewhere, and it can be done by young or old. This summer 170 children of the Accra Ghana Lartebiokorshie Stake worked on their four-generation family trees during a two-hour program, with more than 74 completing and displaying their trees.
As President Boyd K. Packer has said, “If you don’t know where to start, start with yourself. If you don’t know what records to get, and how to get them, start with what you have.” You will learn about the phenomenon that is you. It can be more fascinating than any movie you might see or any computer game you might play. You will need to find out who your grandparents and great-grandparents were and what temple work has been done for them. If you don’t know how to get this information, ask people in your ward who do know how.
Ask living members of your family what they know about your extended family. Look at records close at hand, such as family Bibles, to find more details about your forebears. Then you can reach out to other sources such as vital records, church records, census records, and military records. If you have access to a computer, you can put your computer skills to work and log on to the Church’s FamilySearch.org Web site. Family history has become a sophisticated activity where computers provide immense resources for your search. You can easily access a vast collection of family history records using the Internet on your home computer or at your nearest family history center.
Family history centers are now available in 88 countries. They are part of an unequaled record-keeping system that helps preserve the heritage of families all over the world. In the Family History Library in Salt Lake City, patrons are constantly corresponding and submitting information about their family histories. One person wrote, “We are sending you five children in a separate envelope.”
The great work of providing the saving ordinances for our kindred dead is a vital part of the threefold mission of the Church. We do this work for a purpose, which is to redeem our dead ancestors. Temple work is essential for both us and our kindred dead who are waiting for these saving ordinances to be done for them. It is essential because “we without them cannot be made perfect; neither can they without us be made perfect.” They need the saving ordinances, and we need to be sealed to them. For this reason it is important that we trace our family lines so that no one is left out.
Searching for our kindred dead isn’t just a hobby. It is a fundamental responsibility for all members of the Church. We believe that life continues after death and that all will be resurrected. We believe that families may continue in the next life if they have kept the special covenants made in one of the sacred temples under the authority of God. We believe that our deceased ancestors can also be eternally united with their families when we make covenants in their behalf in the temples. Our deceased forebears may accept these covenants, if they choose to do so, in the spirit world.
The great vicarious work for our kindred dead in our temples demonstrates both the justice and the fairness of the gospel of Jesus Christ. The Prophet Joseph Smith explained the terrible dilemma which would face God’s children without temple work for our dead. Said he: “One dies and is buried, having never heard the Gospel of reconciliation; to the other the message of salvation is sent, he hears and embraces it, and is made the heir of eternal life. Shall the one become the partaker of glory and the other be consigned to hopeless perdition? Is there no chance for his escape?” Fortunately our ancestors will have the opportunity to receive and accept the saving ordinances as we identify them and complete these sacred ordinances for them by proxy. We do for them what they cannot do for themselves. It is a very satisfying experience.
In the great vision in the Kirtland Temple, Elijah the prophet appeared to the Prophet Joseph Smith and Oliver Cowdery and committed the keys of temple work and the sealing power into Joseph Smith’s hands. This fulfilled Malachi’s prophecy that Elijah would be sent “to turn the hearts of the fathers to the children, and the children to the fathers, lest the whole earth be smitten with a curse.”
So what does this mean? To turn our hearts to our fathers is to search out the names of our deceased ancestors and to perform the saving ordinances in the temple for them. This will forge a continuous chain between us and our forefathers eventually all the way back to Father Adam and Mother Eve.
The heart of an 11-year-old boy was turned to his fathers during a family home evening when the children assembled personal books of remembrance. Young Jeff wanted to accompany his mother to the National Archives. She was afraid he might disturb the other researchers there. But he persisted, and she relented and took him with her. Four hours into their research, he exclaimed, “Mama, I’ve found Grandpa!” Indeed, he had found his great-great-great-grandfather. However, it doesn’t always work that way. In a letter to the Family History Department, someone wrote: “We lost our grandmother. Will you please send us a copy?”
The gospel of Jesus Christ teaches us that the celestial family organization will be “one that is complete,” that is, “an organization linked from father and mother and children of one generation, to the father and mother and children of the next generation, thus expanding and spreading out down to the end of time.”
In tracing our family names, we often find them spelled differently, depending on the source. This was the case of a university student in Provo, Utah, who caught the vision of this linking of generations. He was walking through the library one evening and remembered hearing someone in the Searing family tell about a town in New York State that had been named after an ancestor. So he decided to look up the town. He stumbled across a very old copy of a gazetteer of New York and read about a man named Simon Searing who helped settle Long Island in the mid-1600s. Could Simon be his ancestor? He had to know. He began research in earnest and traced his line back several generations. But still he needed to bridge the gap between the 1800s and the 1600s. Then a miracle occurred. He unexpectedly located a history of a Syring family. The families in the Syring book ended in the same generation he had reached in his own research. Not only was he able to connect many generations, but he also linked himself to the early settler Simon Searing.
Some who are interested in family history try to enhance their own image by linking up with prominent people. In my own experience it has been quite different. I have been fascinated by learning of some of the unknown, ordinary people whose records tell of heroic lives. Arthur R. Bassett once said: “Who among us wants to throw stones at their own ancestors? I, for one, am intrigued by their battles—their victories as well as their defeats. … I am fascinated by what may seem the most commonplace of lives, because I have come to realize the excitement that is concealed in the commonplace.”
It is not likely that you will find any horse thieves in your ancestral line. But if you do, it is important that their temple work be done, because we believe in repentance for the dead also:
“The dead who repent will be redeemed, through obedience to the ordinances of the house of God,
“And after they have paid the penalty of their transgressions, and are washed clean, shall receive a reward according to their works, for they are heirs of salvation.”
The process of finding our ancestors one by one can be challenging but also exciting and rewarding. We often feel spiritual guidance as we go to the sources which identify them. Because this is a very spiritual work, we can expect help from the other side of the veil. We feel a pull from our relatives who are waiting for us to find them so their ordinance work can be done. This is a Christlike service because we are doing something for them that they cannot do for themselves.
Many of you young men have already had a taste of temple work as you have participated in baptisms for the dead. When we go early to the temple, we often see young people dressed in white, ready to take part in this satisfying experience before going to school. You are to be commended for your dedication in performing this vital work. In so doing you have already felt the peace and serenity found within the walls of our temples.
I testify that God is a just God, and He will not give privileges to us and withhold them from our forebears. But we will need to do the baptisms, the endowments, and the sealings for them by proxy here on earth in order for us and them to be linked together for eternity “and have part in the first resurrection.”
I further testify that the Lord directs and inspires President Hinckley as he leads us in this important work. May the peace that comes from faithful discharge of our priesthood duties ever be with us, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Juliano stood up to rest his back. Pulling weeds was hard work, but he knew that his family needed a good crop of potatoes. The ch’unu (freeze-dried potatoes) that they made from them would feed them all winter.
He could see his awquinaca (parents) at the other end of the field. They had finished their rows and were headed back home for dinner. Juliano finished his row and headed for the house too. When he got there, he stopped in surprise. Two men were talking to his parents. He could tell that they weren’t Aymara Indians. The tall one had blond hair. Both of the men wore white shirts. Because his parents couldn’t speak English or Spanish and strangers never spoke Aymara, he wondered how they could talk together.
As he drew closer, he could hear the strangers—and they were speaking Aymara! He wondered what they wanted with his parents, who were just humble yapur jake (farmers) living in a mud house.
Juliano sat down where the men wouldn’t notice him. They seemed to feel at home and sat on a rock when his parents sat down. The mud house was too small to invite anyone inside.
Ana, Juliano’s sister, was drawn to the blond hair of the tall man. When she touched his hair, he laughed.
Juliano soon learned that the men were missionaries from a new church—at least it was new to Patacamaya, a very small village so far into the altiplano, or high plain, of Bolivia that few strangers ever visited there.
The tall one held Ana on his lap while he talked. Juliano’s family listened politely. They had never heard a stranger speak their tongue. Soon Juliano noticed that this man was more than just speaking in their language. He was teaching his parents.
Juliano looked at his parents. They were carefully listening to everything that these men said. Juliano started to really listen too. They told of a book that was a history of their people from long ago. It told of a white god, Jesus Christ, and of how He had visited their ancestors.
He saw tears form in his mother’s eyes. She seemed to be excited and touched by what they taught.
After that, the missionaries came often. Juliano continued to sit in the shadows and listen, but he was still too shy to come any closer. His father asked many questions.
One night the tall blond man asked them if they were ready to be baptized. Juliano’s father said, “Yes,” and his mother eagerly agreed. Then the man turned to Juliano.
“Are you ready to be baptized?” the man asked.
“I’m only ten years old,” Juliano answered, surprised. “How can I know the truth?”
“You can know the same way that your parents do,” the missionary answered softly. “You can think about what we’ve taught you. You can read the Book of Mormon. Then you must pray and receive an answer for yourself.”
The other missionary spoke. “Your parents will soon be baptized. Ana is too young to be baptized, but you’re not. We would like you to be baptized with your parents. But you must seek and gain a testimony of your own.”
Juliano knew that his parents wanted him to be baptized. But he wanted to be sure for himself. He decided to do as the missionaries had told him. Every night he read the Book of Mormon to his parents, who had never learned to read. Juliano was glad that the Book of Mormon had been translated into Aymara. It made it easier for them all. After they read in it, they had family prayer.
One morning after doing his chores, Juliano took the Book of Mormon into the hills behind their home. He sat down next to the path, then read again Moroni’s promise: “And when ye shall receive these things, I would exhort you that ye would ask God, the Eternal Father, in the name of Christ, if these things are not true; and if ye shall ask with a sincere heart, with real intent, having faith in Christ, he will manifest the truth of it unto you, by the power of the Holy Ghost.”*
“How can the Holy Ghost visit a young boy like me?” he asked himself after he read it. Then Juliano remembered a story that the blond man had told him from the Book of Mormon. The story was about a boy just his age when he learned that he was to be the future keeper of the gold plates. Quickly he searched through the scriptures. Yes, here it is! Juliano thought with satisfaction. The boy my age was Mormon! Maybe it doesn’t matter how old you are for the Holy Ghost to testify to you. Maybe it only matters how faithful you are!
Juliano knelt by the path and bowed his head. He prayed as the blond man had taught him. When he finished, he felt a peaceful feeling spread through him. Now I know that the Book of Mormon is true, he thought.
That Saturday night Juliano joined his family at a nearby jawira (river). The baptism was beautiful. As he came up out of the water, he felt especially clean. He had never felt closer to his family, and he had never felt closer to his Heavenly Father. He was glad that even a boy can know for sure that the Church is true.

Raimundo and Eró also know about another type of education—spiritual knowledge.
“About 30 years ago,” Raimundo says, “we weren’t active in the Church. But our bishop asked Eró and me for an interview. He invited us to take a class about eternal marriage, and because of that class, we came back to the Church and together we studied and learned and built our testimonies. A year later, we were sealed to our family in the São Paulo Brazil Temple.”
Now they have given decades of service in their ward and stake, “and we’re still studying the gospel, still learning more truth,” Raimundo says.

I got on a plane one day in Tonga. It was Saturday morning, the Sabbath of the Seventh-day Adventists. The head of the Seventh-day Adventists’ mission in the Pacific got on the plane with me. Down at the airport were his Sunday School children, giving him a send-off, singing hymns and so on. Well, we got on that plane Saturday morning, and we went to Samoa. When we arrived at Samoa, it was Friday, the day before we left Tonga. I just wondered how he was going to straighten out that “seventh day” business. He’d already had one Saturday, one Sabbath, and here he was again in Samoa on a Friday, the day before he’d had the Sabbath. The next day he had another. Now I tried to find him to ask him from which Saturday he was going to start counting the seven days. Well, these things happen. This is going on all over the world.

I met my wife, Melinda, during my sophomore year of college, about six months after I had returned from my mission. I knew immediately that I wanted to marry her. Melinda, however, did not have the same experience. It wasn’t until five years later that she finally received an answer that it would be “OK” if she married me.
During those five years, I had one of the more difficult trials of my life. I knew whom I was supposed to marry, and the Spirit urged me on, but I couldn’t seem to reach that goal.
Shortly after I graduated, Melinda decided to go on a mission—in part, I am convinced, to get away from me. There were times while she was on her mission when I was miserable because I focused on what I didn’t have. However, I was studying the scriptures and praying daily, serving in the Church, and striving to do the things that brought the Holy Ghost into my life.
One early, very cold Sunday morning in Minneapolis, Minnesota, USA, while I was driving to a Church meeting, I thought, “I should be really miserable right now. Nothing seems to be going the way I want. But I’m not miserable. I feel unbelievably happy!”
Now, how could I be happy if I was going through what, for me, was a difficult trial?
The answer is found in Galatians 5:22–23: “The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance.”
Because I was doing the things that brought the Spirit into my life, I felt God’s love. I felt joy and peace. I could suffer long and still be happy.
Having love, joy, and peace in our lives, our families, and our marriages does not come from having a big house, nice cars, the latest clothing, career success, or any of the other things the world says bring happiness. In fact, because feelings of love, joy, and peace come from the Spirit, feeling them doesn’t have to be connected to our temporal circumstances at all.
Please understand that I am not saying that we will always be happy or that our temporal circumstances never affect our happiness. In fact, if we do not taste the bitter, we cannot know the sweet (see Doctrine and Covenants 29:39; see also Moses 6:55).
We need to struggle at times. Furthermore, some physical and emotional conditions can cause us great suffering and make it very difficult for us to feel the Spirit. But if we are striving to have the Spirit in our lives and are trusting God, we can, in general, be happy.
I testify from personal experience that this is true. Since my experience while Melinda was on her mission, I have noticed that if I am doing the things that bring the Spirit into my life, including choosing to believe and accepting that things will work out as God intends, I am usually happy (see Jacob 3:2).1

Many years ago, before I was called to the Quorum of the Twelve, I had the opportunity to address a business convention in Dallas, Texas—known as “the city of churches.” After the convention I took a sightseeing bus ride about the city’s suburbs. As we would pass the beautiful churches, our driver would comment, “On the left you see the Methodist church,” or “There on the right is the Catholic cathedral.” As we passed a beautiful red brick building situated upon a hill, the driver informed us, “That building is where the Mormons meet.”

A lady’s voice from the rear of the bus asked, “Driver, can you tell us something about the Mormons?” The driver pulled the bus over to the side of the road, turned around in his seat, and replied, “Lady, all I know about the Mormons is that they meet in that red brick building. Is there anyone on this bus who knows anything about the Mormons?”

I gazed at the expression on each person’s face for some sign of recognition, some desire to comment. I found nothing—not a sign. Then I realized the truth of the statement “When the time for decision arrives, the time for preparation is past.” For the next 15 minutes I had the privilege of giving, as Peter declared, “a reason [for] the hope that is in you” (1 Peter 3:15). At that time I developed a much greater appreciation concerning the matter of preparation.

Several years ago, our only daughter decided to compete in a marathon. She trained and worked very hard, along with some of her friends. The race was difficult, and there were times when she wanted to quit. But she kept going, just concentrating on one step at a time. As she was approaching the middle part of the course, she heard someone behind her shout out, “Blind man on your left.”

She turned her head only to see a blind man overtake her, holding the hand of another man. They were both running the race. As they passed, she could see how tightly the blind man held the hand of his friend.

Overcome with her own physical pain, she was lifted as she watched these two men run hand in hand. He who could see was motivated by his blind friend, and the blind man depended upon the connection he had to his friend’s hand. Our daughter knew the blind man could never finish the race alone. She was inspired by the trust of the blind man and the devoted love of his friend.

The missionary began: “As I boarded the plane for my mission to Argentina, I was filled with deep sadness. The fact that I would not see my family for two years overwhelmed me, and I began to sob. I cried out in my thoughts, Heavenly Father, are You there? Am I doing the right thing? I feel so alone. Suddenly, comfort, peace, and love filled my soul. I knew all would be well. I knew that God knew me and that what I was doing was right. I knew He would not leave me alone. The Spirit bore witness to my soul of these truths. I will never be the same again.”

Alan thought about his own mission and the lessons he’d learned.
One lesson wasn’t learned until he’d been out for a year. His companion at that time was Elder Taylor, who at that time had been out only three months. They were working in a rural area south of Rochester, New York, and had nobody to teach. The zone leader had decided to move them to a new area in another town in a month.
One night after a week of broken appointments, people not at home, doors slammed in their faces, Elder Taylor asked, “I wonder why things are going so badly.”
“Maybe it’s because there’s a family still in this area who’s so golden that the adversary is trying to discourage us from finding them before we’re pulled out of this area.”
The spiritual confirmation had been so strong that for several minutes neither of them spoke.
“That’s it,” Alan said after a few minutes.
“Well, all we’ve got to do is find them,” Elder Taylor said.
After that the burden they carried was that they felt there was a family waiting for them but they couldn’t find anybody. Alan became more tense as the days passed.
One morning Elder Taylor suggested, “Why don’t we inspiration contact?”
“What’s that?” Alan had asked wearily, annoyed at his companion’s usually naive suggestions.
“We just drive around until we feel the promptings of the Spirit, and then we stop and visit the house.”
“Okay, we’ll try it. What have we got to lose?” They drove around their area. In a few minutes, Elder Taylor shouted, “Stop! Let’s visit that house.”
They parked and walked up to the house. A lady answered and said she wasn’t interested. The next house Elder Taylor tried had been vacant for two months. Alan tried one house and a dog nearly bit him.
By that time it was time for lunch. Alan was in a bad mood.
“We must be doing something wrong,” Elder Taylor announced. “Why don’t we fast?”
“Every time we turn around you want to fast,” Alan snapped. “What have you got against eating?”
“I’m sorry. It’s just that I want to get the most out of my mission.”
“What do you think I’m doing here?” Alan replied angrily.
They drove in silence the rest of the way to the apartment. Alan fixed some sandwiches and juice.
“I’m not eating,” Elder Taylor said cooly.
“Look, I’m the senior companion and I say you eat! You can’t fast every other day!”
They ate quietly, each feeling justified in his feelings about the other.
Finally Elder Taylor asked, “Do you want to try inspiration contacting again?”
“The way I feel now,” Alan replied, “I’d drive into the Atlantic Ocean before I’d ever feel any inspiration.”
“Then what are we going to do this afternoon?” Elder Taylor asked.
“I don’t know.” Alan looked out the window, afraid he was going to lose control of himself. “I want to be close to the Lord. But it’s so hard. Maybe the Lord can’t work through me.”
“I’m sure he can. Look, you’re the senior companion. I’ll do whatever you want.”
Alan glanced over at Elder Taylor. “Maybe if we prayed.”
After the prayer they got up off their knees and Elder Taylor asked, “What do you think?”
“I think we’ve got to get a plan.” Alan walked to the map of the area on the wall. “We’ve got one week left before the area is closed down. In that time we’re going to visit every house. Every house. And we’ll start right here,” his finger went down on one of the small towns in the area. “Then we’ll move south until we’ve visited every house.”
That afternoon they drove to the town that was to be their starting place. In the second house they found the family the Lord had prepared for them.
I should have known, Alan thought. The Lord explained it all in the ninth section of the Doctrine and Covenants. [D&C 9]

Every year in Australia, an endurance race that goes from Sydney to Melbourne is held. This race is 543.7 miles long and takes world-class athletes five full days to complete. It is known as the world's most grueling ultra-marathon. And the athletes who enter are mostly young, less than 30 years of age, highly trained and sponsored by large companies.

Let me share with you the story of a very unlikely competitor named Cliff Young, who at 61 years of age showed up at the start of this race wearing his overalls and work boots. Everyone assumed he was a spectator, but when he picked up his number and joined the other competitors, everyone was shocked. When he was interviewed by the press, they told him in effect that he was crazy to attempt this and that he should not even start the race. They told him there was no way he could ever finish. To which Cliff replied: "Yes I can. See, I grew up on a farm where we couldn't afford horses or tractors, and the whole time I was growing up, whenever the storms would roll in, I'd have to go out and round up the sheep. We had 2,000 sheep on 2,000 acres. Sometimes I would have to run those sheep for two or three days. It took a long time, but I'd always catch them. I believe I can run this race."[9]

The professionals who had run this race knew what it took and they had calculated that in order to finish in five days, a person had to run for 18 hours straight and then sleep for six hours. Everyone knew this fact. Everyone, that is, except for Cliff Young!

When the race started, Cliff was left in the dust. He wasn't flashy, he wasn't sponsored, and he wasn't fast. In fact he didn't even run properly-he shuffled! So on the second day of the race, Cliff was forgotten. But to everyone's surprise, he was still in the race. He had jogged all night long! And not only that, but he had determined to run for the next five days straight to the finish line without sleeping at all. No one believed that this could be done-no one that is, except Cliff.

"Cliff kept running. Each night he came a little closer to the leading pack. By the final night, he had surpassed all of the young, world-class athletes. He was the first competitor to cross the finish line and he set a new course record...Today, the 'Young-shuffle' has been adopted by ultra-marathon runners because it is considered more energy-efficient. At least three champions of the Sydney to Melbourne race have used the shuffle to win the race. Furthermore, during the Sydney to Melbourne race now, modern competitors do not sleep. Winning the race requires runners to go all night as well as all day, just like Cliff Young."[10]

What does this story teach us? It isn't that we shouldn't sleep; rather, it teaches us that we can change the world! We can do hard things. We can endure. We must prepare and all our life is preparation. Believe in yourself! Don't give up. Endure! You have the power to achieve anything you set your mind to.

Many years ago I served as a full-time missionary in the Mexico Monterrey North Mission. I felt it a great privilege to give missionary service.
When I began my mission, I left one matter unresolved. I had not yet received the paper relating to my discharge from military service. This document is extremely important. It means that a young man has completed his mandatory military service and has the right to work and study. He is recognized as a citizen of Mexico.
As the date for the issue of this document approached, I began to worry. I wrote to my parents and asked them to see if it was possible for them to pick up my military service book. When I received their next letter, I worried even more. They told me that they had already been informed that it could be released only to the person to whom it belonged.
I felt an urgent need to pray to the Lord and ask Him what to do. The answer, which did not come immediately, was that I should explain my problem to my mission president. During my conversation with him, two alternatives were discussed. One was that I could simply “trust in the Lord.” The second was that I could go in person to pick it up. The decision was mine.
I was unsure about what to do. I confided my concerns to my companion, and we were strengthened as we read this scripture: “Know ye not that ye are in the hands of God? Know ye not that he hath all power, and at his great command the earth shall be rolled together as a scroll?” (Mormon 5:23). This scripture dissolved my cloud of confusion. From that moment I read it, I knew that it was my duty to give my complete efforts to my missionary labors. My problem was in the hands of the Lord.
A little while later, I received another letter from my parents. My father wrote the following:
“Son, I went back to the National Defense offices one more time, to try to find a person who could help us solve your problem. After speaking with a great many people, I was directed to a certain place. I arrived feeling quite discouraged and desperate. The first thing I saw was a huge door, which was opened wide and guarded by very imposing two soldiers. I gathered my courage and passed through, and found the office to which I had been directed. As I knocked, I felt nervous but also that I was being guided by the Spirit of the Lord.
“When I went in, I saw an officer seated behind a desk. On his chest were a great number of medals, and the walls of his office were covered with colorful certificates. He shook my hand firmly and solemnly, and asked, ‘What is the purpose of your visit?’
“‘I have a son who is serving a mission,’ I replied. ‘Because of this, he could not come to pick up his military service book. I have come to see if I can pick it up in his place.’
“‘No, you cannot. It can be released only to the individual to whom it belongs,’ stated the officer.
“At that moment, the Lord enlightened me with His Spirit, and I said, ‘Sir, you have many soldiers under your charge who are responsible to you for the fulfillment of their duties. In the same way, my son is fulfilling his duty to preach the gospel of the Lord at this time. At this very moment, he is a soldier for the Lord.’
“At this, the officer arose from his seat and said, ‘Do you have any identification? What is the name of your son?’
“After I had answered his questions, he called a secretary and said, ‘Bring me the papers for this young missionary.’
“He signed them, sealed them, and turned them over to me. Nothing else was required. I shook his hand firmly and gratefully. My son, your papers are now in order and you must show your gratitude to the Lord by serving Him as a true soldier.”
After receiving this letter, I thanked the Lord for using His great power to intercede on my behalf, for the answer He had sent in response to my prayers, and for enlightening my father. I pray that we may all place our full confidence in the Lord, and never forget His promise: “Ask, and it shall be given unto you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you. For every one that asketh, receiveth; and he that seeketh, findeth; and to him that knocketh, it shall be opened” (3 Nephi 14:7–8).

In the conspiracy to take his life in which the Laws were involved, two young men had been invited to the secret meetings – Dennison L. Harris and Robert Scott. They consulted with the Prophet. He asked them to go and observe.

At the risk of their lives they attended these meetings and reported back what they had heard. Prior to the last meeting they reported their expectation that at that meeting everyone present would be asked to come forward and take an oath to be willing to take the life of Joseph Smith. The Prophet wept.

Now he knew by natural means as well as by his presentiments what was happening. The young men heroically attended the meeting as he suggested, and narrowly escaped with their lives when they were put under pressure to take the oath.

If the young men of 150 years ago wanted to give service to a good cause, they could carry water to the men working on the temple. Today the Nauvoo Young Men are also deeply involved in giving service regularly. Each summer thousands of visitors come, swelling the numbers attending their ward. Every Sunday morning, without fail, the Young Men arrive at the meetinghouse an hour early to set up hundreds of folding chairs and prepare up to 32 trays for the sacrament. It doesn’t take a great deal of skill to set up chairs, but it takes ingenuity and a great plan to pass the sacrament to all those people tucked into classrooms or lining the hallways. All the deacons, teachers, and priests are needed to pass the sacrament. And they want to do it with dignity. “We get tired and want to take off our ties and jackets,” says Mark Hasek, 14, “but we know people will go back to their wards and say, ‘The Nauvoo boys did this.’ We’re a big example.”
Then after meetings, they have to move those hundreds of chairs outside, ready to be set up for the City of Joseph productions the following week. The boys are doing a little good-natured complaining about having to set up so many chairs when one of the girls pipes up and says, “We help with the chairs too.” The boys start to tease. “Yeah, the boys are responsible for setting up the chairs. The girls are responsible for sitting in the chairs. Everyone in the stake knows to call the Nauvoo Ward about setting up. We know chairs.”

One afternoon my younger sister Camilia and I were playing while my dad was mowing the lawn. We decided to help him. Even though it was very hot, we had fun working together. When we finished, we went with my dad to return the lawnmower to our elderly neighbor. When we got to her door, my dad offered to mow her lawn too. My sister and I decided to help too. While he mowed, we picked up the grass and put it in a bag. When we finished, the neighbor said, “Thank you so much, Sofia and Camilia, for cleaning my yard. You are very sweet and caring girls.” Then she gave us some candy. We went home very happy, not just because we had candy but because we had served our neighbor.
Sofia Carolina P., age 9, Argentina

At the end of a term at my school in Lagos, Nigeria, I was confident that I would receive good marks because I had been a good student. But my economics teacher called me into the staff room and told me I had scored below average. I couldn’t believe it. My answer to him was, “That’s not true.”
He showed me where he had recorded my marks. I saw he had written a wrong mark for me, and I explained that it was not correct. He told me the only thing that could prove him wrong would be for me to bring in my test sheet by 9:00 the next morning.
After finishing my chores the following morning, I started looking for the test sheet. First I searched for the book I knew I had put it in, but I couldn’t find it. Then I started searching for the sheet in all my other books. I still couldn’t locate it. Next I searched my wardrobe where I kept my schoolbooks and clothes—but it wasn’t there. I went back to the bookshelf and searched again. At 8:00 a.m. I knew that if I didn’t show the missing test sheet to my teacher in one hour, he would not listen to me anymore. Tears filled my eyes as I wondered where the test sheet could be. For a moment I gave up hope of ever finding it.
Then the thought struck me that I should pray. Immediately I closed my eyes and knelt in front of the bookshelf. As I prayed I had a calm assurance the test sheet wasn’t lost at all. When I opened my eyes, to my amazement I saw the book in which I kept the sheet right on top of the bookshelf. Inside was the sheet I had been searching for. At that moment, my sorrow vanished and my eyes filled with joyful tears.
At school I thought about how much Heavenly Father loves me and how grateful I was that He had answered my prayer so quickly. The thing I could not find in an hour-long search took me only a second to find when I called on the Lord.
That day, a simple prayer helped me recognize that Heavenly Father loves me and hears my voice when I call on Him. I learned that with God all things are possible (see Luke 2:37). He wants us, His children, to call on His name whenever we are in need, and He will give answers to our prayers.