Gospel Story Finder

When I was 14, my school was across from a Latter-day Saint chapel. I watched men in white shirts going in and out of that big building. I wondered what they were doing inside.
One day my friends and I wanted to play football, but there was no more room on our school grounds. Someone said, “Let’s play at the church. They have a nice place outside to play.”
Two years later one of my brother’s friends invited my sister to go to the LDS Church, and I went along with her. I was excited to finally find out what they were doing inside that church.
When we got there, we saw some members playing a simple game. They looked so happy, and that got my attention. “Why are they so happy?” I wondered.
I found out when I took the missionary discussions and was baptized. Happiness comes from inside. My conversion changed my life, the life of my children, and generations ahead and behind.

I spoke at the funeral of a dear friend the other day. Some years ago he served as a mission president. He felt totally inadequate when he arrived in the field. He was sent to succeed a very good man, a man of great ability, an excellent leader, and a very able president.
When this new man took over the mission and made his first tour of meetings with missionaries, he said to them: “I never served a mission as a young man, and so I don’t know what you are going through. But do your best, your very, very best. Say your prayers and work hard and leave the harvest to the Lord.”
With that kind of spirit and that outreach of love, a whole new attitude spread through the mission. Members got behind the missionaries. Within a year the number of converts had doubled.

A friend of mine recently wrote to me, confiding that he was having a difficult time keeping his testimony strong and vibrant. He asked for counsel.
I wrote back to him and lovingly suggested a few specific things he could do that would align his life more closely with the teachings of the restored gospel. To my surprise, I heard back from him only a week later. The essence of his letter was this: “I tried what you suggested. It didn’t work. What else have you got?”
Brothers and sisters, we have to stay with it. We don’t acquire eternal life in a sprint—this is a race of endurance. We have to apply and reapply the divine gospel principles. Day after day we need to make them part of our normal life.
Too often we approach the gospel like a farmer who places a seed in the ground in the morning and expects corn on the cob by the afternoon. When Alma compared the word of God to a seed, he explained that the seed grows into a fruit-bearing tree gradually, as a result of our “faith, and [our] diligence, and patience, and long-suffering.” It’s true that some blessings come right away: soon after we plant the seed in our hearts, it begins to swell and sprout and grow, and by this we know that the seed is good. From the very moment we set foot upon the pathway of discipleship, seen and unseen blessings from God begin to attend us.
But we cannot receive the fulness of those blessings if we “neglect the tree, and take no thought for its nourishment.”
Knowing that the seed is good is not enough. We must “nourish it with great care, that it may get root.” Only then can we partake of the fruit that is “sweet above all that is sweet, and … pure above all that is pure” and “feast upon this fruit even until [we] are filled, that [we] hunger not, neither shall [we] thirst.”
Discipleship is a journey. We need the refining lessons of the journey to craft our character and purify our hearts. By patiently walking in the path of discipleship, we demonstrate to ourselves the measure of our faith and our willingness to accept God’s will rather than ours.
It is not enough merely to speak of Jesus Christ or proclaim that we are His disciples. It is not enough to surround ourselves with symbols of our religion. Discipleship is not a spectator sport. We cannot expect to experience the blessings of faith by standing inactive on the sidelines any more than we can experience the benefits of health by sitting on a sofa watching sporting events on television and giving advice to the athletes. And yet for some, “spectator discipleship” is a preferred if not a primary way of worshipping.
Ours is not a secondhand religion. We cannot receive the blessings of the gospel merely by observing the good that others do. We need to get off the sidelines and practice what we preach.
The first step on the path of discipleship begins, luckily enough, in the exact place where we stand! We do not have to prequalify to take that first step. It doesn’t matter if we are rich or poor. There is no requirement to be educated, eloquent, or intellectual. We do not have to be perfect or well-spoken or even well-mannered.
You and I can walk in the path of discipleship today. Let us be humble; let us pray to our Father in Heaven with all our heart and express our desire to draw close to Him and learn of Him.
Have faith. Seek, and you will find. Knock, and the door will be opened. Serve the Lord by serving others. Become an active participant in your ward or branch. Strengthen your family by committing to live the principles of the gospel. Be of one heart and of one mind in your marriage and in your family.
Now is the time to adjust your lives to be able to have a temple recommend and use it. Now is the time to have meaningful family home evenings, to read the word of God, and to speak to our Heavenly Father in earnest prayer. Now is the time to fill our hearts with gratitude for the Restoration of His Church, for living prophets, the Book of Mormon, and the priesthood power that blesses our lives. Now is the time to embrace the gospel of Jesus Christ, become His disciples, and walk in His way.
There are some who believe that because they have made mistakes, they can no longer fully partake of the blessings of the gospel. How little they understand the purposes of the Lord. One of the great blessings of living the gospel is that it refines us and helps us learn from our mistakes. We “all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God,” yet the Atonement of Jesus Christ has the power to make us whole when we repent.
Our beloved friend Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin taught us this principle with clarity when he said:
“Oh, it is wonderful to know that our Heavenly Father loves us—even with all our flaws! His love is such that even should we give up on ourselves, He never will.
“We [might] see ourselves in terms of yesterday and today. Our Heavenly Father sees us in terms of forever. …
“The gospel of Jesus Christ is a gospel of transformation. It takes us as men and women of the earth and refines us into men and women for the eternities.”
To those who have left the path of discipleship for whatever reason, I invite you to start where you are and come to the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. Walk again in the way of the Lord. I testify that the Lord will bless your life, endow you with knowledge and joy beyond comprehension, and distill upon you the supernal gifts of the Spirit. It is always the right time to walk in His way. It is never too late.
To those who feel inadequate because they have not been members of the Church all their lives, to those who feel that they can never make up for the time they have lost, I testify that the Lord needs your specific abilities, talents, and skills. The Church needs you; we need you. It is always the right time to walk in His way. It is never too late.
Let us remember on this Palm Sunday, during this Easter season, and always that the restored gospel of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ has the power to fill any emptiness, heal any wound, and bridge any vale of sorrow. It is the way of hope, faith, and trust in the Lord. The gospel of Jesus Christ is taught in its fulness in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. This Church is led by a living prophet, authorized by the Lord Jesus Christ to provide direction and guidance to help us face the challenges of our day, as serious as they may be.
I bear my solemn witness that Jesus the Christ lives. He is the Savior and Redeemer of the world. He is the promised Messiah. He lived a perfect life and atoned for our sins. He will ever be at our side. He will fight our battles. He is our hope; He is our salvation; He is the way. Of this I testify in the sacred name of Jesus Christ, amen.

The talent concert gave them the perfect opportunity to prove that. Take Amy Ravsten, a 17-year-old from Garland Third Ward, for example. When she heard that the young women in her stake would be performing, she offered to teach the girls in her ward a jazz routine she’d learned at cheerleading camp. A real sense of camaraderie developed as six girls of varying aptitudes worked together to perfect the dance.

For gymnast Kim McCauley, a 14-year-old from the Rockwall Ward, “someday” began when she was a toddler. She was walking at six months, running at eight months, and by the time she hit three, her parents decided they’d better find a way to channel her energy, or they’d be exhausted in the chase. They enrolled her in gymnastics classes, and today, she not only is a top competitor on her high school team, but she also uses her talent in her spare time to teach gymnastics classes for small children.

Instead of waiting for “someday” to take time to really get to know and enjoy the rest of her family, 12-year-old Stephanie Smith of the Dallas Fourth Ward learned a family talent that would send them touring the state and the country. The family took up clogging, a misleading term for a high-energy form of tap dance. Through it, she learned all about keeping in step with the rest of the family. “It’s really helped us with our unity,” she says. “Although it’s sometimes hard to get everyone together to practice, we feel a real closeness when we perform.”

“Someday I’ll be a great piano player … when I have time to practice,” is a foreign phrase to Susanna Olsen, who proved that she already has mastered the instrument. She dashed off a Rachmaninoff opus as if she’d written it herself. Members of the Richardson First Ward know that they can come to Susanna whenever they need an accompanist. She’s more than willing to oblige them.

Sherry Blanpied, a 13-year-old from the Richardson Second Ward, had no intention of waiting for “someday, when I’m good enough,” to display her dramatic talents. She performed a monologue right after winning first place with the same piece in a school competition held earlier that day.

These girls and many more were able to shower the stake with their talents. And for those who had talents that were not easily displayed on stage, such as soccer finesse or computer programming, their “someday” in the limelight came when they performed in one of three song and dance routines choreographed to include every girl who wanted to join in.

The conference theme came to life as the girls prepared for the concert. The price they paid to realize their dream of a successful show was a lot of time and effort. They passed up parties and various other school activities to meet a grueling rehearsal schedule, and some even missed going to their high school football games. That’s practically unheard of in Texas, where school spirit is as high as a lone star in the sky.

The girls in Dallas are just like most young women everywhere. In their spare time, they like to get together to talk and watch video movies, they like to go to dances, eat Mexican food, and go horseback riding. They’re especially proud of their new temple, and they go to the visitors’ center frequently. But in preparation for the conference, they put most of their other activities on the back burner and concentrated on “paying the price” to make it a dream come true.

Michelle DeMarco, 13, of the Richardson First Ward, even gave up a part in a school play to participate in the conference. Michelle, who lives and breathes theater, insisted “it was worth missing the school play to come to this. I’ve really enjoyed being together with everyone here.”

Michelle’s mother was right there supporting her from the rehearsals through to the actual production. “My mom has helped me with everything,” said Michelle. “She’s always making me feel good about what I’m doing, and she’s always there to lift me up.” That’s the way it is with many of the mothers in the Richardson Stake.

“We just can’t stand by on the side of the river and watch these young women try to maneuver the rapids by themselves,” said Linda McCauley, who spearheaded the conference. Sister McCauley had three daughters involved in the day and feels that she needs to “jump on the raft with them … to share their experiences so they don’t float so far away and become strangers.”

Some mothers and daughters in the stake are so close it’s even hard to tell them apart. They share jokes, clothes, and friendships. They were more than willing to help with the other parts of the conference by spending long hours decorating for the elaborate luncheon and pulling together the programs, speakers, and handouts for the educational part of the day.

The informative portion’s purpose, according to Sister McCauley, was to “provide the girls with a positive, uplifting experience where they learned about their responsibilities to Heavenly Father, to themselves, and to others.”

These responsibilities were brought home to the girls during a multimedia presentation starring many familiar faces. Advisers had taken the time to interview some of the girls and discuss how they could pump the most from their talents.

A video clip was shown of Rebecca Duehring, a 15-year-old from the Rockwall Ward, gliding across the ice during one of her many intense ice skating competitions. Rebecca’s struggle to be a competitive skater hasn’t been easy. She was born with brain damage that limited her coordination and space perception. She could barely walk, was constantly falling, and had broken nearly every bone in her body. Then she took up ice skating, which, for some reason she can’t explain, helped her gain her coordination.

Although it takes more time and concentration for Rebecca to perfect her routines, she’s right up there with the best in town and dreams of one day going to the Olympics. “Sometimes I can feel that Heavenly Father is behind me, and I go for the top,” says Rebecca.

The girls were also treated to talks, workshops, and presentations by people who had paid the price to reach excellence. “Commitment is more than desire,” stake president Larry Gibbons told them in his speech. “Commitment implies action.” And in other workshops, the girls learned just what kind of actions they’d have to take to be successful in different aspects of their lives.

They were shown the literal prices they’ll have to pay when the time comes to support themselves. They shuddered as they saw just how far an average, 40-hour a week job paying $5 an hour would take them. After paying tithing, taxes, rent, food, gas, transportation, insurance, and utility bills, they’d be in the hole about $2,000 per year.

“This has really started me thinking about what I want to do,” said Ruth Vigil, 16, of the Richardson Third Ward. “I hadn’t really set any goals for my future occupation, but now I realize that I’ll have to.” Ruth is musically talented. She sings and plays the piano and is now thinking about ways to incorporate those talents in a future occupation.

“We wanted to help the girls change their lives and get moving into some sort of direction,” said Connie Riska, stake Young Women president. “They need to make some of their decisions now and not wait until they graduate from high school.”

The girls realize that not all of them will go on to become working women. “My ambition is to have ten kids. six cats, and five gerbils,” jokes 16-year-old Tami McCauley of the Rockwall Ward. Just in case her dream comes true, the conference helped her to realize that the experience she’s gaining now by helping her mother take care of her nine brothers and sisters is invaluable.

Tracy Rico, 17, of the Garland Third Ward, had her feeling reaffirmed that if she’s going to meet her goal of entering into the medical profession, it can’t hurt to start learning now. That’s why she’s working as a “sports medicine trainer” at her high school.

The girls were encouraged to think about their future goals in preparation for a very special fashion show that was also part of the conference. Each young woman either made or coordinated an outfit to wear, and as they were escorted down the runway, their achievements and dreams were capsulized by the emcee.

Amanda Wilson, 15, of the Richardson First Ward, was right in her element during this part of the day. Her mother began teaching her to sew when she was seven years old, and now you might wonder who is teaching whom. Not only did Amanda sew several outfits for the fashion show, but she designed them as well, making her own patterns.

Amanda is refining her talents now so that one day she can major in fashion merchandising and hopefully have her own designing business. But in the meantime, she uses her abilities by sewing for ward members.

Short-term goals were also met via the fashion show. “It was great because my mom and I worked together on my outfit,” said Jennifer Beckham, 15, of the Rockwall Ward. “We took a whole day to go pick out the material, and as we cut it out and worked on it, we just talked about all sorts of things. It was really nice.”

That feeling of unity and understanding seemed to characterize the day. Most people were a bit surprised when Melissa Lane, 13, modeled her outfit as it was announced that one of her major goals was to become a member of the Church.

Melissa later explained, “My aunt is a member of the Church and I live with her now. She lets me go to church, and it really makes me feel good. I’m starting to read the Book of Mormon, and my aunt is letting me subscribe to the New Era. My special friends here have helped me with my testimony, and this conference has too.”

Most of the girls agreed that the friendship they cultivated by sharing their talents with each other was one of the best parts of the conference. Many of the girls go to different schools and don’t have the opportunity to get together often. “I’ve grown so close to the people here,” said Tova Carter, 14, of the Garland Fourth Ward. “We learned that if we put our minds to something, we really can accomplish it.”

An elaborate luncheon, a fashion show presented by a local designer, and minimusical concerts performed by local professionals and local Suzuki violin students all added to the day as the young women struck it rich in Dallas.

The girls might not be able to buy expensive sports cars and luxurious wardrobes with the wealth they gained by tapping the well at their conference, but deep in the hearts of the young women in Texas, they know they struck something far more valuable.

Marcella frowned as she tried to wiggle her toes in her shoes. The shoes were too small and they hurt, but she knew she shouldn’t complain. At six years old, she knew there was no money for new ones.
The past year had been hard for the Nelson family. In May, Marcella’s tiny baby sister had died of pneumonia. And just six weeks later, her father, Eric, had been killed in an accident at work. How she missed her gentle father.
Now Marcella’s mother was struggling to support her two young daughters with her sewing. Even though she was a skilled seamstress, there wasn’t enough money. The kitchen cupboards in their small home were practically bare. No, bigger shoes just weren’t an option right now.
“Time for breakfast,” Mother called. Marcella struggled not to limp in the tight shoes as she walked to the table.
“Oh, honey.” Her mother knelt at her side. “Those shoes are too small for you, aren’t they?” Marcella could hear the worry in her mother’s voice.
“A little.” Marcella tried to sound unconcerned. “It’s all right.”
“You’re trying to be brave,” Mother said gently. “But I can see they hurt. I will try to get you some new ones soon.”
“I want new shoes too!” piped up little Arvella.
Their mother picked Arvella up in a big hug. “You know your shoes are just fine,” she said. Arvella’s shoes were hand-me-downs from Marcella. They were worn, but at least they fit properly.
Arvella stuck her bottom lip out. “I want new shoes too,” she repeated obstinately. Marcella and her mother smiled at each other. Arvella didn’t understand their difficult position, and somehow her innocence made them feel better. They talked and laughed as they ate breakfast and cleaned up.
Suddenly Mother became serious again. “Girls,” she said slowly, “we need to go to town today. I have $2.50.”
Marcella couldn’t believe it! That was a lot of money in Utah in 1905. “That’s great!” she exclaimed. She imagined the food they could buy to stock their empty shelves. Maybe she could even get new shoes!
Marcella’s smile faded when she saw the tears in her mother’s eyes. “We owe $2.50 for tithing,” she said softly. Then she gathered her girls around her. “I know we are almost out of food. I know that you need new shoes so badly, Marcella. But if we want the Lord to bless us, we must keep His commandments.”
Then she pulled out her worn Bible and turned to Malachi. She read to the girls the Lord’s promise that if they paid tithing, the windows of heaven would open to them.
“What does it mean that the windows of heaven will open?” Arvella asked.
“It means that Heavenly Father will bless us,” Mother said. “It says that we will receive such a great blessing that there won’t be room enough to receive it. I know that we need the Lord’s blessing now more than ever. I believe His promise.”
“I believe it too,” Marcella said.
“Me too,” Arvella chimed in.
“Oh, you are good girls.” Mother pulled them close. “Let’s pray together, and then I am going to take this money straight to the bishop.”
The girls and Mother knelt. Mother asked Heavenly Father for a way to get more food for her little family and shoes for Marcella. After the prayer, they all wiped tears from their eyes. Then, with a smile, Mother said, “Let’s go pay our tithing, girls!”
They walked the short distance to the bishop’s house and gave him the tithing. Although her feet hurt, Marcella enjoyed the walk and the good feeling in her heart. She knew Heavenly Father would bless them.
As they approached their home, they saw Uncle Silas and Aunt Maud pulling up. Both girls ran to Uncle Silas, and he swung them high into the air.
“Hello, Sarah,” Aunt Maud said, giving Mother a quick hug. “We just came to see how you and the girls are doing.”
“Well,” Arvella said seriously, “Marcella’s shoes are too small, but we paid our tithing and it will be fine.”
“Arvella!” Her mother gave her a stern look. “We’re fine, Maud. How is your family?”
They all went into the house and chatted pleasantly. Marcella quickly took off her tight shoes and put them away. She noticed her aunt and uncle looking around the house carefully. Aunt Maud even opened a cupboard as she visited. Too soon, their visitors had to leave.
Later that afternoon, Marcella was surprised to hear a delivery cart outside. It stopped at their home, and a delivery boy came to the door. “A delivery for Sarah Nelson,” he said.
“That’s my mother,” Marcella said.
“But I didn’t order anything,” Mother objected.
Suddenly Uncle Silas appeared in the doorway next to the boy. “It’s for you, Sarah,” he said gently. “You can put everything here on the table,” he directed the delivery boy.
The boy brought in bags of food. The girls danced around the table in delight. They hugged Uncle Silas, who quickly excused himself to go home. There was so much food! Sugar, beans, flour and cornmeal, cured meats and dried fruit—the cupboards would be full! Last of all, the delivery boy brought a small package wrapped in brown paper to the table.
After the delivery boy left, the girls approached the small package. What could be inside? First Marcella and then Arvella shook it. Then Marcella carefully pulled back the paper. Into her lap fell not one, but two pairs of shoes! Marcella picked up the largest pair and put them on. They fit perfectly, and she happily wiggled her toes in complete comfort.
Then she saw Arvella’s face. Her sister had picked up the second pair of shoes and was staring at them in delight. She looked at her mother in wonder. “I thought you said I didn’t need shoes, Mama,” she said questioningly.
“Your old shoes would do,” her mother said through her tears. “But when Heavenly Father opens the windows of heaven, you never know what might pour down.”

When I was a youth, I didn’t know what the Holy Ghost felt like. I was around 12 years old when my mother sat me down and asked me this important question: “Mark,” she said, “has the Lord ever told you through the Holy Ghost that the Church is true?”
I wasn’t in the business of lying to my mom, so I honestly and sheepishly responded “No?”
She then said, “Heavenly Father wants you to know for yourself, but you need to put in the effort. If you will read the Book of Mormon and pray, He will let you know of its truthfulness by the Holy Ghost.”
I had my own copy of the Book of Mormon, but I had never read it on my own. With the determination to take this invitation seriously, I started my own spiritual journey. Each night before I went to bed, I read a chapter or so in the Book of Mormon. As I knelt down to pray, I asked Heavenly Father to let me know that it was true. As I prayed, a peaceful feeling rested upon me. I felt good inside.
Were these feelings from the Holy Ghost? I wasn’t really sure. This was all new to me, and I didn’t know what the promptings of the Holy Ghost felt like. I wondered if an angel was going to come visit me or if perhaps a great divine light would appear in my room. Nevertheless, with sincere desire to receive the promised knowledge from the Holy Ghost, I continued to read and pray night after night. Every time I prayed, I felt feelings of peace, and I felt good inside.
It wasn’t until later that I realized the Lord had been answering my prayers all along, but I had been looking for a different kind of answer. I just didn’t realize that we can “feel” the promptings of the Holy Ghost.

One memorable ministering experience taught me how the Lord works through His servants to bless His children. One day my companion and I set out to visit a brother in our ward. It was our second ministering visit of the day, and as we embarked on our journey, we encountered difficulties locating his home. Google Maps directed us to the wrong location, leaving us confused and unsure of where to go. Determined not to give up, we decided to call the brother to explain the situation. He kindly clarified that he did not live in the area where the map had directed us and proceeded to describe his actual location.
With his guidance, we got back into the car and continued our journey, hopeful that we would find his home. Thankfully, we arrived at the correct address. The brother warmly welcomed us into his home, and we felt great joy in meeting him and his family. After exchanging pleasantries, we asked if there was anything we could do for them or if there was something they would like to share with us. The brother opened up about a concern that had been troubling him. He explained that just the day before, he had felt very guilty about his situation and knew he needed to speak with someone from church who could help him. Our visit seemed to him like an answer to his prayers.
He went on to share his concern: he was not legally married to his wife. This revelation surprised us because, according to the information on the Church’s member tools, his record indicated that he was married. He clarified that this was a mistake, likely a mix-up from when he was interviewed by the missionaries prior to his baptism. He expressed feelings of guilt and a strong desire to correct the situation.
We offered words of counsel and encouragement, discussing the steps he could take to resolve his situation. We assured him of our support and reminded him of the blessings that come from doing what is right. With our encouragement, he determined to take the necessary steps to address his marital status in a way that aligned with God’s commandments.
Today, this brother and his wife are legally married, and they are preparing to be sealed as an eternal family in the temple.

“Can you come and help?”
It’s a question Gerald and Lorna Malmrose of Washington, USA, had answered before. They said yes when their former bishop, then a mission president, asked if they could serve with him in the West Indies. They said yes again when their stake president called them to fulfill a service mission at Church headquarters in Salt Lake City, Utah, USA, working with computers and human resources.
When their former bishop and mission president, Reid Robison, called again, this time as president of the missionary training center in Accra, Ghana, he asked if the Malmroses would help once again.
“We knew we could trust the Lord,” Elder Malmrose says. “So we decided to trust Him again.” They said yes, completed their recommendation forms, received their call, and soon were in Ghana.
The Malmroses’ experiences demonstrate some principles about senior couples serving missions that may not be widely understood:
There are two types of missions. (1) The President of the Church calls senior couples to serve either from their own home or away from home. (2) A stake president calls Church-service missionary couples to fill local or regional needs part-time, from 8 to 32 hours per week. They usually live and serve locally but sometimes may serve away from home.
Mission presidents are encouraged to find couples who can meet needs in their mission, and couples may indicate their preferences. “We’re not saying that couples can pick and choose their own missionary assignments,” explained Elder Jeffrey R. Holland of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. “A call is still a call. … [But] we talk to our senior couples about their service preferences, and every consideration is given to letting them serve where and how they want to serve.”1
Mission presidents counsel with couples about how to best use their skills and abilities. “To have the most meaningful experience as a senior couple,” President Robison says, “you need to have the opportunity to work both in areas you’re passionate about and where you have a skill level that makes you feel you have something to offer.”
For example, President Robison knew that Elder Malmrose speaks French, helpful because many Africans speak French. “I had envisioned him being involved in travel and working on visas,” President Robison says. “But when he got here, I sensed that wasn’t his true interest. So I invited him to use his computer skills. He has saved us hours and hours.” Elder Malmrose also helps missionaries, especially French-speaking missionaries, prepare names and do temple work for their families. Sister Malmrose, a certified medical assistant, was assigned to work with the mission doctor and nurse.
Like the Malmroses, other couples find that when they trust the Lord, He prepares the way. That’s what happened for Alvin and Corazon Rieta of Kawit, Cavite, in the Philippines.
“Two years prior to our decision to serve, we began putting into place firm plans for our family business,” Elder Rieta explains. “Our son and daughter had graduated from college and could take over for us, but we wondered who would solve business problems and how our clients would react to our plans.”
Sister Rieta was also concerned about leaving her aging mother. “I was afraid we might lose her while we were away,” she says. “I also felt unequal to the challenge of teaching the gospel.”
They counseled with their bishop and with a couple who had recently served in Davao. “All of them bore strong testimonies that the Lord would guide each couple to know how to deal with their affairs at home, their family, and the funds for their mission,” Sister Rieta says.
“As we sought guidance,” Elder Rieta says, “our fears were addressed—our business went well in spite of challenges, our clients expressed joy and support, and our family drew closer together in taking care of our sick mother. We began to understand that the Lord truly would help us.”
The Rietas now serve in member and leadership support in the Philippines Cagayan de Oro Mission.
Some couples wonder about physical limitations, but not Keith and Jennilyn Mauerman of Utah, USA. Years ago, four months after they were married in the Los Angeles California Temple, Keith was drafted and sent into combat. An airborne squad leader, he was walking ahead of the other soldiers when a land mine exploded. He lost both legs. When he arrived back home, Jennilyn rushed to his side.
“I knew I didn’t have to worry,” Keith says, “because we have an eternal marriage. My wife has supported me all along. She still sustains me every day.”
When Sister Mauerman retired, they decided to serve a mission. But would Elder Mauerman’s being a double amputee cause a problem? “There are always things I can’t do,” he says, “but there are so many things I can do, we knew there would be a place for us.”
While completing their recommendation forms, he checked a box indicating he had served in the military. Soon they received a call from Church Military Relations. “I had an ID card that would allow us to enter military bases, so they asked our permission to recommend us for a military relations mission.”
The Mauermans were called to serve at a military base in North Carolina, USA. Elder Mauerman recalls: “The sign at the gate said ‘Fort Bragg, Home of the Airborne.’ When the guard greeted us with the airborne motto ‘All the Way!’ it was the first time I had heard it in years. It felt like home, even though I had never been to Fort Bragg. I knew our mission call was a perfect fit and that the Lord is mindful of me.”
“We taught lessons about becoming self-reliant and resilient and about strengthening marriage,” Sister Mauerman says. “Initially we didn’t want to share our story, but we found that sharing it made all the difference. Soldiers and their spouses looked at us and said, ‘If you can do it, we can too.’”
The Mauermans had such a positive experience in North Carolina that they asked to serve again. Today they travel about 40 miles (64 km) from their home in Orem to Salt Lake City two times a week to serve in the Church Military Relations office. They also teach senior couples at the missionary training center in Provo, where they find that just about every group includes somebody who has overcome obstacles in order to serve.
Called to the Brazil Cuiabá Mission, Randy and Lou Ellen Romrell of Utah were concerned. Although Elder Romrell had served in Brazil as a young missionary, he’d let his Portuguese slip. And Sister Romrell didn’t know Portuguese. Study and effort, however, helped Elder Romrell’s Portuguese skills to return and Sister Romrell’s to grow. So did a ukulele.
“I wasn’t really planning to bring it,” Sister Romrell says, “but Elder Romrell was inspired to, and it’s amazing to see what it’s done. As we teach investigators and work on reactivation and fellowship, it’s fun to use it to get people to sing hymns. We learn the language, and the hymns bring a strong spirit with them.”
Even though her Portuguese skills are still developing, she is already fluent in music. “Music brings people together,” she says. “Even if I can’t understand everything they say during a visit, when we sing, we connect.” Invited to speak in schools about the American holiday of Thanksgiving, the Romrells sang hymns of gratitude—accompanied by ukulele. And Sister Romrell also uses a more conventional instrument, the piano, to accompany hymns at church.
And Portuguese? “Even if you’re not fluent, learning just a few words helps,” she says. “Simply saying hello and greeting people goes a long way. Let them know you’re learning. Make it simple and rely on the Spirit.” And the Spirit, of course, is another language everyone can share.
Paul and Mar Jean Lewis from Utah had already served three missions together (Palmyra New York Temple; Hong Kong China Temple; and Croatia, Serbia, and Slovenia with seminaries and institutes). They were preparing to serve another when their stake president asked, “Would you be willing to serve right here in our own stake, supporting the mission we live in?”
“We’re new here, so it was a wonderful opportunity,” Sister Lewis says. “We serve with the young elders and sisters, have a close association with the mission president, go to district and zone meetings, and work with ward mission leaders.” They also visit investigators and those who are less active.
“We have met wonderful people we would never have known otherwise,” Sister Lewis says, “including some who have drifted off the path. To see them come back, receive ordinances, and go to the temple is a wonderful blessing.”
“Many couples, when they think about serving a mission, are worried about what they’ll do with their home and their car or what they’ll miss out on with their family,” Elder Lewis says. “We’ve been able to live in our own house and drive our own car. We are encouraged to go to family activities, as long as they don’t interfere with missionary responsibilities. And we were even here for the birth of a grandchild.”
On the other hand, Jill and Kent Sorensen, who are from the same stake, say one of the best ways to strengthen their family has been to serve away from home. Sister Sorensen says, “One of the main excuses couples give for not going is grandkids, married children with struggles, daughters expecting babies, aging parents—you name it. Family is a priority, and you miss them every day. But going on a mission sends a powerful message that missionary work is important too.”
Besides, Elder Sorensen notes, “there are so many ways to keep in touch now that you can check in all the time.”
The Sorensens’ missionary journey began three years ago, when their bishop asked them to host monthly firesides for couples contemplating missionary service. “After talking about it constantly,” Sister Sorensen says, “we had to go ourselves!” They received a call to serve in the Cook Islands, where Jill’s grandparents served 50 years ago.
Today, among other duties, they are asked to teach Bible classes in schools.
“We talk about Christ being the rock,” Elder Sorensen says. “We give the students a small rock and encourage them to remain rock solid in Christ. Now everywhere we go, people say, ‘Rock solid!’ when they see us.”
If you are contemplating a full-time mission or a Church-service mission, all of these couples would ask you the same question President Robison asked Gerald and Lorna Malmrose: “Can you come and help?” And they will tell you that, no matter how you participate, this promise is sure: You are needed, you can contribute, and you will be blessed and loved.

What does holiness to the Lord in everyday life look like?
Holiness to the Lord in everyday life looks like two faithful young adults, married for a year, sharing with authenticity and vulnerability gospel covenants, sacrifice, and service in their unfolding lives.
She begins, “In high school, I was in a dark place. I felt like God wasn’t there for me. One night, a text from a friend said, ‘Hey, have you read Alma 36 ever?’
“As I started reading,” she said, “I was overcome with peace and love. I felt like I was being given this big hug. When I read Alma 36:12, I knew Heavenly Father saw me and knew exactly how I was feeling.”
She continues, “Before we got married, I was honest with my fiancé that I didn’t have a great testimony of tithing. Why did God need us to give money when others had so much to give? My fiancé helped explain it’s not about money but following a commandment asked of us. He challenged me to start paying tithing.
“I really saw my testimony grow,” she said. “Sometimes money gets tight, but we saw so many blessings, and somehow paychecks were enough.”
Also, “in my nursing class,” she said, “I was the only member of the Church and the only one married. Many times I left class frustrated or crying because I felt classmates singled me out and made negative comments about my beliefs, my wearing my garments, or my being married so young.”
Yet she continues, “This past semester I learned how to better voice my beliefs and be a good gospel example. My knowledge and testimony grew because I was tested in my ability to stand alone and be strong in what I believe.”
The young husband adds, “Before my mission I had offers to play college baseball. Making the difficult decision, I put those offers aside and went to serve the Lord. I wouldn’t trade those two years for anything.
“Returning home,” he said, “I expected a difficult transition but found myself stronger, faster, and healthier. I was throwing harder than when I left. I had more offers to play than when I left, including my dream school. And, most importantly,” he said, “I rely upon the Lord more than ever.”
He concludes, “As a missionary I taught that Heavenly Father promises us power in our prayers, but sometimes I forget that for myself.”

The girls decided to use this experience as a Personal Progress project. Each girl sewed her own bonnet as part of the authentic pioneer costume for the festival. They practiced for hours to memorize the story they had chosen—the story of Fanny Fry, who traveled with the George Rowley handcart company in 1859.
Fanny was separated from her family and endured hardships while crossing the plains. One day she fainted and was run over by her handcart. Thinking she was dead, the sisters began preparing her for burial. The Iowa Beehives love to tell how surprised those good sisters were when Fanny opened her eyes. Despite her injuries, Fanny pressed on and was later reunited with her sister.

Let me tell you of a man I know. I will not mention his name lest he feel embarrassed. His wife felt there was something missing in their lives. She spoke with a relative one day who was a member of the Church. The relative suggested that she call the missionaries. She did so. But the husband was rude to them and told them not to come again.

Months passed. One day another missionary, finding the record of this visit, decided that he and his companion would try again. He was a tall elder from California who carried a big smile on his face.

They knocked on the door; the man answered. Could they come in for a few minutes? they asked. He consented.

The missionary said, in effect, “I wonder if you know how to pray.” The man answered that he knew the Lord’s Prayer. The missionary said, “That is good, but let me tell you how to give a personal prayer.” He went on to explain that we get on our knees in an attitude of humility before the God of heaven. The man did so. The missionary then went on to say, “We address God as our Father in Heaven. We then thank Him for His blessings, such as our health, our friends, our food. We then ask for His blessings. We express our innermost hopes and desires. We ask Him to bless those in need. We do it all in the name of His Beloved Son, the Lord Jesus Christ, concluding with ‘amen.’”

It was a pleasant experience for the man. He had gleaned a little light and understanding, a touch of faith. He was ready to try another step.

Line upon line, the missionaries patiently taught him. He responded as his faith grew into a dim light of understanding. Friends from his branch gathered around to reassure him and answer his questions. The men played tennis with him, and he and his family were invited to their homes for dinner.

He was baptized, and that was a giant step of faith. The branch president asked him to be a Scoutmaster to four boys. That led to other responsibilities, and the light of faith strengthened in his life with each new opportunity and experience.

That has continued. Today he stands as a capable and loved stake president, a leader of great wisdom and understanding, and above all, a man of great faith.

My father’s a soldier and is fighting in a war a long way from us. But Mother and I get letters regularly that help bring him home for a while. First, we read my letter and laugh at the funny things he writes. When my mother opens her letter, however, she sits by the window and reads it alone. Once in a while she reads me part of it, but mostly she reads it silently, then stares out over the fields for a quiet time.
Once I even saw Mother cry, and I knew she must really be missing him. That was only for a minute, though, and I pretended not to see. Then she wiped her eyes on her apron, folded the letter, and put it into a box. When she stood up, she smiled. “We must keep busy, Carrie,” she said as she smoothed my hair with a gentle hand. “Would you like to pin the pattern for me so I can cut more material?”
I like to work with Mother. We talk about many things, like Father and the war or school; and before I even know it, time has passed, and I am hemming one apron as she is sewing the seams of the second.
One day as we worked, a heavy knock sounded at our door and I jumped up from my chair to see who it was. “Hello, Mr. Briggs,” I said as I swung the screen door wide. “Will you please come in? Mother is sewing, but I’ll get her for you.”
He nodded and stood with his hat in his hand, waiting.
“Mother!” I said excitedly. “Mr. Briggs has come to see you.”
She smiled and smoothed her hair, then untied and removed her apron. With her head held high, she went to greet our visitor. “May I offer you a lemonade, Mr. Briggs?” she asked.
“No, thank you, ma’am,” he replied.
I left them alone and stood by the front door, looking at his motor truck parked beyond the front fence, with BRIGGS EMPORIUM emblazoned on the side of it in bold red letters. After only a few minutes, Mr. Briggs came out onto the porch with Mother.
“I’m sorry,” he was saying quietly. “If you’d like, I can keep the aprons and see how business is in Clarion County. The agreement will be the same, Mrs. Clancey. But with times as they are, well …” He shrugged and waited for my mother’s reply.
She nodded and folded her hands, then forced a halfhearted smile. “Yes, do that, Mr. Briggs. It’s the only way they’ll have a chance of being sold. And you did sell quite a few in Nelson last month. Maybe Clarion County will be a better territory.”
Mr. Briggs quickly nodded and said, “I certainly hope so, Mrs. Clancey, for both of us. But may I give you an advance?” he offered. “Just a little, to help you get by? I’m bound to sell some, you know.”
Mother raised her chin slightly and shook her head. “Thank you, but no,” she replied. “If they don’t sell, I’d only have to pay it back. I’ll just wait and see. Now, how much do I owe you for thread?”
After they settled their account, we stood on the porch and waved good-bye as Mr. Briggs and his traveling emporium drove down the dusty lane. Then Mother seemed to slump ever so slightly against the porch railing. She reached into her pocket and drew out some change.
“He could only sell three aprons, Carrie,” she said with a sigh. “It paid for the thread, and that’s about all. What’s left is for tithing. Would you please put it in the jar for me, dear?”
I took the change and frowned. “Maybe you should have taken the advance Mr. Briggs offered, Mother. We’re running out of a lot of things.”
“Mr. Briggs would not have minded, dear, but I would have,” she said with a smile. “Now do as I say. Put the money in the tithing jar, then fetch the pail. We’ll forget about aprons for a little and weed the strawberries.”
I knew we were out of flour and low on soap, but mother was always firm about God’s portion, so I did as I was told. Then I grabbed the pail and joined her on the back porch. She rolled up her sleeves and talked as we walked toward the strawberry patch. As we came closer, we could see white blossoms on the stems, but the nearer we got, the more red dots we saw among the lush green plants. The strawberries were ripe!
She clasped a hand to her mouth in surprise. “Oh, look, Carrie!” she gasped. “Aren’t they lovely? And they’ve gotten ripe without our noticing them at all.”
The aprons were gone from her mind as we knelt to pick the sweet ripe fruit. As I plunked them into the pail, I thought about the aprons, however, and how hard we had worked on them. Then, without considering, I asked, “Do you mind very much that we’re poor, Mother?”
She looked up in shock and quickly brushed back her hair. “Poor … ? Carrie, do you really think we’re poor?”
I was sorry I had spoken in such a thoughtless manner. “Well,” I stammered. “The aprons … I mean, Mr. Briggs sold only three.”
She rubbed the back of her hand against her forehead, then threw back her head and laughed. “Darling, darling, daughter! Where did you ever get the idea that being without money means that we’re poor? Have I made you think that way? If I have,” she said with a smile, “let me explain something. Making and sewing aprons while your father’s away is useful. We make a little extra money and keep busy. But your father sends money home, and we have a roof over our heads, clothes on our backs, food in our stomachs, and we owe no one anything!” Still smiling, she grabbed my hand. “Besides all that, how can you think we’re poor, when we’re sitting in the middle of God’s good strawberries with the juice staining your mouth?”
She pulled me closer and put her arms around me tightly. “Look at that blue sky, Carrie,” she said, pointing heavenward. “Feel the warm breeze. And don’t you realize the amount of love your father and I have for you? All of those are riches—not riches that can be spent—but they’re riches of a far deeper, more lasting kind. They’re blessings from God. What more in all the world could we possibly want—or need?”
I looked at the sky, then smiled and asked a playful question. “Well, how do we tithe our strawberries, Mother?”
She laughed again and replied, “That’s easy, Carrie. We simply find someone to share them with. In fact, after dinner when it’s cooler, we’ll walk down the lane to Mrs. Fremont’s and give her a basketful of strawberries!”
I not only loved mother—I liked her too. She had an answer for everything, and I learned many things at her side. Maybe one of the most important things I learned was what she told me that day. For I began to look for and appreciate all I received, because I finally realized that God’s blessings don’t always come in the way or manner we expect. But somehow they always come—just when they are needed most.

When I was about nine years old and attending elementary school here in Salt Lake City, all of the youth in the city’s schools were asked to fill out a form indicating what we wanted to be when we grew up. The lists were then to be placed in a waterproof metal box and buried beneath a new flagpole which graced the entrance to the City and County Building grounds. Years later, the box was to be opened and its contents made available.
As I sat with pencil in hand, I thought of the question, “What do I want to be when I grow up?” Almost without hesitation, I wrote the word cowboy. At lunch that day I reported to my mother my response. I can almost see Mother now as she admonished me, “You get right back to school and change that to banker or lawyer!” I obeyed Mother, and all dreams of being a cowboy vanished forever.

In the early years of the Church, the Book of Mormon was printed only in English. President Brigham Young called two missionaries to preach the gospel in Mexico and translate the Book of Mormon into Spanish. But they needed more help to do it. Little did they know that across the ocean, God had prepared a man who could give them exactly the help they needed.
Meliton Gonzalez Trejo came from a wealthy family in Spain. He studied hard in school and became an officer in the Spanish army. He was always interested in religion, but nothing he found felt quite right. One day he heard another officer talk about a group of people who called themselves “Saints.” They belonged to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and a prophet of God had led them to the Rocky Mountains in the United States. Meliton felt a strong desire to meet them. He joined a military expedition to the Philippines, hoping this would help get him to the United States later. But Meliton got so busy with his work that visiting the Saints started to feel less important.
Then Meliton became seriously ill. He remembered why he had come to the Philippines and prayed to God about what he should do. That night, Meliton had a special dream. He knew he was supposed to leave for the Rocky Mountains.
Once Meliton recovered from his illness, he continued his journey to the United States. He arrived in California on July 4, 1874, and headed toward Salt Lake City.
When Meliton arrived in Salt Lake, he ran into a problem: he could read English but had never spoken it. He couldn’t communicate with anyone! But he decided that if he couldn’t talk to people, he would get their attention another way. Meliton put on his Spanish army uniform and marched up and down the city streets. As he hoped, many people noticed him! Finally he was spotted by a member of the Church named Brother Blanchard, a university professor who spoke Spanish. Brother Blanchard helped Meliton get settled in Salt Lake and taught him the gospel. Soon Meliton was baptized.
Brother Blanchard also introduced Meliton to President Brigham Young. Meliton told President Young that more than anything, he wanted to translate the Book of Mormon into Spanish.
President Young asked Meliton to help the missionaries who were going to Mexico translate parts of the Book of Mormon into Spanish. Meliton spent many weeks translating the English words into Spanish. Each night he reviewed his translation with the missionaries. They spoke some Spanish but felt this important translation needed a native Spanish speaker. They knew Meliton was an answer to their prayers. In 1875 the translation was published. It was called Trozos Selectos del Libro de Mormon (Selected Passages from the Book of Mormon).
The missionaries were now ready to go to Mexico. They loaded 1,500 copies of the translated scripture onto horseback and started on their journey. For the first time, Spanish speakers were able to read the Book of Mormon in their own language! Even though Meliton had lived thousands of miles away in Spain, Heavenly Father led him to exactly where he needed to be. Because of Meliton’s courage and faith, he helped bring the word of God to countless people.

One family stands out in my mind. My friend had been the recipient and observer of kindly acts of service by her neighbor. Tenderly and efficiently she saw her care for the sick, notice the shy, cheer the downhearted.

One day, while she was attending a lecture, a mother sitting near her rose hurriedly to take a child out who had become ill. As my friend went to see if she might be of assistance, there was another woman there already. Her manner of helping was quiet and quick, knowing just what to do, and it reminded my friend so much of her neighbor that she finally asked if, by chance, she knew her neighbor, only to find that they were sisters. In that family they had learned the meaning of service. By its selfless nature, service within a family increases spirituality and strengthens bonds of love.

Before my first mission, when I was attending the university, I invited a lovely young lady to attend the university’s junior prom dinner dance. I had dated this fine girl a few times before. Every time we came home from a date, her father would be in his big leather chair, fully dressed, waiting for us.

As I went to pick her up the evening of the dance at the university, her father said, “What time will you be home?” I responded, “Sir, as you know, this is a special dinner-dance at the university; the dinner is scheduled to be served after the dance, so we would like to stay out later than usual.” I added, “You may not wish to wait up for us that late.” He simply said, “I will be waiting for you.” The dance was special, but the dinner service was terribly slow. I soon developed indigestion. The longer it went, the worse I felt. When we got back to her home, I found the father had kept his promise. There in his big leather chair was this wonderful, concerned family patriarch waiting for one of his fine daughters to be safely back under his own roof. He said something like this, “What keeps you out so late, James?”

Last fall some friends came to our home with their children and brought with them a case of the most beautiful, large peaches I have ever seen. They were almost unbelievable in their size, their beauty, and their flavor. Brother Pitt explained that they had just won first prize at the county fair for their peaches, and they had an orchard full of them. I asked how they produced such remarkable fruit, and they were eager to explain. “We learned how to prune the peach trees and thin the weak fruit,” they said. “It’s hard work and must be done regularly.”

“We also learned what happens when you don’t prune,” said one of the children. Their father had wisely suggested that three trees in the orchard be left to grow without the harsh results of the pruning knife. They explained to me that the fruit from those trees was not only very small in size but did not have the sweet taste of the other fruit. The lesson was obvious. There was no question in their minds about the far-reaching value of careful pruning.

I grew up with the same friends for the first 12 years of my life. We were neighbors. We went to the same schools and attended each other’s birthday parties. I sometimes ate at their homes, they came to mine, and we had fun together. But when we became teenagers, things began to change. They were not members of the Church, and they swore, they smoked, and they drank alcohol. They had a completely different view of the law of chastity than I did.
I thought about the problem carefully, and then I talked to my father about what to do. He said, “You have to decide. These good friends are different from you. Before you couldn’t tell, but now there’s a very big difference.”
I trusted my father’s counsel. My friends knew I was a member of the Church, so when I decided not to always go everywhere they went, they understood. Eventually, we spent less and less time together even though we were still friendly.
It was a trial for me to leave my friends, but I knew that it was important to maintain the principles of the gospel in my life. I thought about Alma’s counsel to his sons when he taught them to have faith in God. He said, “Whosoever shall put their trust in God shall be supported in their trials” (Alma 36:3).
One of the things that helped me get through this hard time was going every week to Church activities, including Mutual. I also kept myself busy with dancing, sports, and youth conferences.
I made a new friend who was not a member of the Church, and he sometimes invited me to go to parties. These parties were the same day as Mutual, so I told him, “I’m sorry. I would like to go, but I have other plans.”
He asked what I was doing. I told him, “I’m going to Mutual.”
“What’s Mutual?” he asked.
I explained that we had a lot of fun activities at Mutual and that I was serving as a counselor in the presidency. After I turned down three invitations to his parties, he said, “Invite me to Mutual.”
So he came with me, the missionaries taught him, and he was eventually baptized.
I invite you to make decisions now so that you can be a light to your friends. One thing you can do is attend seminary. Your seminary teachers do their part; they put forth a lot of effort in preparing lessons for you. Seminary will be even more of a blessing to you when you do your part: read the assignments, pray and fast, receive and accept the teachings. Learning takes place when both parties do what they need to do.
When I was in high school, one of my friends invited me to a party and said, “Let’s go ask my father if we can borrow his car.” His father did not want to let him borrow the car. Then, when his father saw me, he said, “OK, I’ll let you borrow the car, but only if Benjamín will drive.”
This man knew that my family and I were members of the Church, that we didn’t drink alcohol, and that I would be a safe driver.
The reaction of my friend’s father helped me appreciate my parents’ teachings and the example they set. At home we had family home evening and family prayer. Sunday was a day of rest for us. These types of things were the gospel in action for us, and we enjoyed it a lot. My father often invited other members of the Church to come to our house to talk about the gospel on Sunday afternoons. We ate together, we talked about the gospel, and we shared a close friendship.
Prepare now to build your own strong future families. You do that when you are active in learning about the gospel. Remember that if you will put your trust in God; have daily, fervent prayer; read the scriptures; keep yourselves clean; and work on your Duty to God or Personal Progress, you will be protected from harm, will be a light to your friends, and will find joy in your life.

Spencer W. Kimball worked hard as a child. At haying time, he stood atop the hay wagon and tromped down the load as his older brothers, Gordon and Del, pitchforked more up to him.
Sometimes they teased him by throwing two huge forkfuls at almost the same time. The first would knock him down, and the second would bury him.
Spencer: Hey!
Gordon: You’re right. It is hay.
Spencer loved Primary, which was held on weekdays at that time. One hot Monday morning, he heard the bell that rang a half hour before Primary.
Spencer: I have to go to Primary.
His brothers thought that he was only trying to get out of work.
Gordon: You’re not going anywhere.
Spencer: If Pa were here, he’d let me go.
Del: Well, Pa is not here, and you’re not going.
They kept pitching hay up until a large pile formed. When Spencer didn’t appear to tromp the hay down, they became worried.
Gordon: What’s the matter with you up there?
Spencer didn’t answer. They looked off across the field and saw their little brother halfway to the meetinghouse, running as fast as he could.
All his life Spencer W. Kimball faithfully attended every meeting he was able to attend. As an Apostle and as President of the Church, he scheduled thousands of meetings with members, leaders, and missionaries all around the world and he announced many temples to be built. He worked from early morning to evening. Even among other hard-working General Authorities, he was known as an incredibly hard worker.
If you’d like to learn more about President Spencer W. Kimball, do the “President Spencer W. Kimball Crossword” on page 26.

It was not until the last session of the General Authority, Area Seventy and General Officers Leadership Training, during the April 2021 general conference, that I finally received the spiritual witness I had been seeking since my call. I will never forget that moment.
This session’s agenda was for all 15 apostles and prophets to bear their testimonies and witness of Jesus Christ. The solemnity and sacredness of this occasion is glorious. It was Elder Neil L. Andersen’s testimony that changed my perspective and gave me the reassurance that I was searching for.
Elder Andersen explained how he felt when he was called to The Quorum of The Twelve Apostles. He said when he first sat in the seat that Elder Ulisses Soares now occupies, he looked up the row at the other 11 Apostles and the First Presidency, and feelings of personal inadequacy overwhelmed him. When I heard Elder Andersen say that, I sat up straight in my chair because I knew that what he had just said—and what he was going to say next—was specifically for me.
When Elder Andersen shared that sacred experience, it became sacred to me also. It was the confirmation that I needed.
I know that Heavenly Father and His Son did not call me because of anything I had done to qualify for this role, but it was because They love me. They know I can change, and They know I can help Them in Their glorious work: to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of all Their children. (See Moses 1:39.)