Gospel Story Finder

My family joined the Church when I was a boy. A few weeks after our baptism, my father had a dream. He was walking on a beautiful street. In the distance he saw a magnificent white house. He had never seen such an inspiring building.
He shared his dream with our family the next morning. He also shared it with the senior missionary couple who taught our family the gospel. The senior missionaries told him that the house in his dream was a symbol. It stood for the temple.
They showed him pictures of some of the Church’s temples around the world. They said that one day a temple would be built where we lived, in the Democratic Republic of the Congo. For the rest of his life, my father prayed that a temple would come to our country.
After 25 years, the dream came true. In the October 2011 general conference, President Thomas S. Monson announced plans to build the Kinshasa Democratic Republic of the Congo Temple. The announcement made my father the happiest man on earth! He was overjoyed to be present on February 12, 2016, when Elder Neil L. Andersen of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles presided over the groundbreaking ceremony.
Unfortunately, my father passed away in December 2016, before the completion of the temple. In June 2018, I was in Salt Lake City, Utah, USA. In the Jordan River Utah Temple I was able to perform the sacred temple ordinances in behalf of my father. That night, my father visited me in a dream. He was shining with light. I knew that he had accepted what I did for him.
We thought of my father fondly when Elder Dale G. Renlund of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles dedicated the completed Kinshasa temple on April 14, 2019. A short time later my family performed ordinances to seal my father and mother to each other. Then their children were sealed to them. Our family will remember that day forever. We shed tears of joy. We knew that if we obeyed God’s laws and commandments and lived faithful to our covenants, our family could be together forever.

A recent LDS.org video titled “A Friend to All” illustrates a great example of this principle. In the video Elder Ulisses Soares shared the story of his family’s conversion to the Church when he was a young boy. His parents struggled with some of the principles of the gospel of Jesus Christ, but Elder Soares described how the members of their branch embraced them, helped them, and loved them. Elder Soares went on to explain that we are all children of God and are put on the earth in different circumstances. When we understand people, their conditions, and their circumstances, we can then love them. Elder Soares taught that love is a Christlike attribute; it is through our expressions of love that people will feel the love of the Savior. We are simply the instruments in God’s hand to lead others to that love.

In September 1826, Joseph returned to the hill for the plates [see chapter 3], but Moroni said he was still not ready for them. “Quit the company of the money diggers,” the angel told him. There were wicked men among them.9 Moroni gave him one more year to align his will with God’s. If he did not, the plates would never be entrusted to him.
The angel also told him to bring someone with him next time. It was the same request he had made at the end of Joseph’s first visit to the hill. But since Alvin was dead, Joseph was confused.
“Who is the right person?” he asked.
“You will know,” Moroni said.
Joseph sought the Lord’s direction through his seer stone. The right person, he learned, was Emma.10
Joseph had been drawn to Emma as soon as he met her. Like Alvin, she was someone who could help him become the man the Lord needed to carry out His work. But there was more to Emma than that. Joseph loved her and wanted to marry her.11
In December, Joseph turned 21 years old. In the past, he had let himself be pulled this way and that by the expectations of those who wanted to take advantage of his gift.12 But after his last visit to the hill, he knew he had to do more to prepare himself to receive the plates.
Before returning to Harmony, Joseph spoke with his parents. “I have concluded to get married,” he told them, “and, if you have no objections, Miss Emma Hale would be my choice.” His parents were pleased with his decision, and Lucy urged him to come live with them after they married.13
Joseph spent as much time as he could with Emma that winter, sometimes borrowing the Knights’ sleigh when snow made it hard to travel to the Hales’ house. But her parents still did not like him, and his efforts to win over the family failed.14
In January 1827, Emma visited the Stowells’ home, where she and Joseph could spend time together without her family’s disapproving looks. Joseph proposed to Emma there, and at first, Emma seemed surprised. She knew her parents would oppose the marriage.15 But Joseph urged her to think about it. They could elope right away.
Emma considered the proposal. Marrying Joseph would disappoint her parents, but it was her choice, and she loved him.16
A short time later, on January 18, 1827, Joseph and Emma were married in the home of the local justice of the peace. They then went to Manchester and began life together in the new home of Joseph’s parents. The house was comfortable, but Joseph Sr. and Lucy had overspent on it, fallen behind on their payments, and lost the property. They were now renting it from the new owners.17
The Smith family frame home in Manchester, New York, was restored using the original structure. After their marriage in 1827, Joseph and Emma lived here with his parents.

Recently I received a letter from a friend of over 50 years who is not a member of our church. I had sent him some gospel-related reading, to which he responded: “Initially it was hard for me to follow the meaning of typical Mormon jargon, such as agency. Possibly a short vocabulary page would be helpful.”
I was surprised he did not understand what we mean by the word agency. I went to an online dictionary. Of the 10 definitions and usages of the word agency, none expressed the idea of making choices to act. We teach that agency is the ability and privilege God gives us to choose and “to act for [ourselves] and not to be acted upon.” Agency is to act with accountability and responsibility for our actions. Our agency is essential to the plan of salvation. With it we are “free to choose liberty and eternal life, through the great Mediator of all men, or to choose captivity and death, according to the captivity and power of the devil.”
The words of a familiar hymn teach us this principle very clearly:
Know this, that ev’ry soul is free
To choose his life and what he’ll be;
For this eternal truth is giv’n:
That God will force no man to heav’n.
To answer my friend’s question and the questions of good men and women everywhere, let me share with you more of what we know about this meaning of agency.
Before we came to this earth, Heavenly Father presented His plan of salvation—a plan to come to earth and receive a body, choose to act between good and evil, and progress to become like Him and live with Him forever.
Our agency—our ability to choose and act for ourselves—was an essential element of this plan. Without agency we would be unable to make right choices and progress. Yet with agency we could make wrong choices, commit sin, and lose the opportunity to be with Heavenly Father again. For this reason a Savior would be provided to suffer for our sins and redeem us if we would repent. By His infinite Atonement, He brought about “the plan of mercy, to appease the demands of justice.”
After Heavenly Father presented His plan, Lucifer stepped forward, saying, “Send me, … and I will redeem all mankind, that [not even] one soul shall … be lost … ; wherefore give me thine honor.” This plan was rejected by our Father, for it would have denied us our agency. Indeed, it was a plan of rebellion.
Then Jesus Christ, Heavenly Father’s “Beloved and Chosen [Son] from the beginning,” exercised His agency to say, “Father, thy will be done, and the glory be thine forever.” He would be our Savior—the Savior of the world.
Because of Lucifer’s rebellion, a great spiritual conflict ensued. Each of Heavenly Father’s children had the opportunity to exercise the agency Heavenly Father had given him or her. We chose to have faith in the Savior Jesus Christ—to come unto Him, follow Him, and accept the plan Heavenly Father presented for our sakes. But a third of Heavenly Father’s children did not have faith to follow the Savior and chose to follow Lucifer, or Satan, instead.
And God said, “Wherefore, because that Satan rebelled against me, and sought to destroy the agency of man, which I, the Lord God, had given him, … I caused that he should be cast down.” Those who followed Satan lost the opportunity to receive a mortal body, live on earth, and progress. Because of the way they used their agency, they lost their agency.
Today the only power Satan and his followers have is the power to tempt and try us. Their only joy is to make us “miserable like unto [themselves].” Their only happiness comes when we are disobedient to the Lord’s commandments.
But think of it: in our premortal state we chose to follow the Savior Jesus Christ! And because we did, we were allowed to come to earth. I testify that by making the same choice to follow the Savior now, while we are here on earth, we will obtain an even greater blessing in the eternities. But let it be known: we must continue to choose to follow the Savior. Eternity is at stake, and our wise use of agency and our actions are essential that we might have eternal life.
Throughout His life our Savior showed us how to use our agency. As a boy in Jerusalem, He deliberately chose to “be about [His] Father’s business.” In His ministry, He obediently chose “to do the will of [His] Father.” In Gethsemane, He chose to suffer all things, saying, “Not my will, but thine, be done. And there appeared an angel unto him from heaven, strengthening him.” On the cross, He chose to love His enemies, praying, “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.” And then, so that He could finally demonstrate that He was choosing for Himself, He was left alone. “[Father,] why hast thou forsaken me?” He asked. At last, He exercised His agency to act, enduring to the end, until He could say, “It is finished.”
Though He “was in all points tempted like as we are,” with every choice and every action He exercised the agency to be our Savior—to break the chains of sin and death for us. And by His perfect life, He taught us that when we choose to do the will of our Heavenly Father, our agency is preserved, our opportunities increase, and we progress.
Evidence of this truth is found throughout the scriptures. Job lost everything he had yet chose to remain faithful, and he gained the eternal blessings of God. Mary and Joseph chose to follow the warning of an angel to flee into Egypt, and the life of the Savior was preserved. Joseph Smith chose to follow the instructions of Moroni, and the Restoration unfolded as prophesied. Whenever we choose to come unto Christ, take His name upon us, and follow His servants, we progress along the path to eternal life.
In our mortal journey, it is helpful to remember that the opposite is also true: when we don’t keep the commandments or follow the promptings of the Holy Ghost, our opportunities are reduced; our abilities to act and progress are diminished. When Cain took his brother’s life because he loved Satan more than God, his spiritual progress was stopped.
In my youth I learned an important lesson about how our actions may limit our freedom. One day my father assigned me to varnish a wooden floor. I made the choice to begin at the door and work my way into the room. When I was almost finished, I realized I had left myself no way to get out. There was no window or door on the other side. I had literally painted myself into a corner. I had no place to go. I was stuck.
Whenever we disobey, we spiritually paint ourselves into a corner and are captive to our choices. Though we are spiritually stuck, there is always a way back. Like repentance, turning around and walking across a newly varnished floor means more work—a lot of resanding and refinishing! Returning to the Lord isn’t easy, but it is worth it.
As we understand the challenge of repenting, we appreciate the blessings of the Holy Ghost to guide our agency and Heavenly Father, who gives us commandments and strengthens and sustains us in keeping them. We also understand how obedience to the commandments ultimately protects our agency.
For example, when we hearken to the Word of Wisdom, we escape the captivity of poor health and addiction to substances that literally rob us of our ability to act for ourselves.
As we obey the counsel to avoid and get out of debt now, we use our agency and obtain the liberty to use our disposable income for helping and blessing others.
When we follow the prophets’ counsel to hold family home evening, family prayer, and family scripture study, our homes become an incubator for our children’s spiritual growth. There we teach them the gospel, bear our testimonies, express our love, and listen as they share their feelings and experiences. By our righteous choices and actions, we liberate them from darkness by increasing their ability to walk in the light.
The world teaches many falsehoods about agency. Many think we should “eat, drink, and be merry; … and if it so be that we are guilty, God will beat us with a few stripes, and at last we shall be saved.” Others embrace secularism and deny God. They convince themselves that there is no “opposition in all things” and, therefore, “whatsoever a man [does is] no crime.” This “destroy[s] the wisdom of God and his eternal purposes.”
Contrary to the world’s secular teaching, the scriptures teach us that we do have agency, and our righteous exercise of agency always makes a difference in the opportunities we have and our ability to act upon them and progress eternally.
For example, through the prophet Samuel, the Lord gave a clear commandment to King Saul:
“The Lord sent me to anoint thee to be king … : now therefore hearken thou unto the voice … of the Lord. …
“… Go and smite Amalek, and utterly destroy all that they have.”
But Saul did not follow the Lord’s commandment. He practiced what I call “selective obedience.” Relying on his own wisdom, he spared the life of King Agag and brought back the best of the sheep, oxen, and other animals.
The Lord revealed this to the prophet Samuel and sent him to remove Saul from being king. When the prophet arrived, Saul said, “I have performed the commandment of the Lord.” But the prophet knew otherwise, saying, “What meaneth then this bleating of the sheep in mine ears, and the lowing of the oxen which I hear?”
Saul excused himself by blaming others, saying the people had kept the animals in order to make sacrifices to the Lord. The prophet’s answer was clear: “Hath the Lord as great delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices, as in obeying the voice of the Lord? Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice, and to hearken [to the commandments of the Lord] than the fat of rams.”
Finally, Saul confessed, saying, “I have sinned: for I have transgressed the commandment of the Lord, and thy words: because I feared the people, and obeyed their voice.” Because Saul did not hearken with exactness—because he chose to be selectively obedient—he lost the opportunity and the agency to be king.
My brothers and sisters, are we hearkening with exactness to the voice of the Lord and His prophets? Or, like Saul, are we practicing selective obedience and fearing the judgments of men?
I acknowledge that all of us make mistakes. The scriptures teach us, “All have sinned, and come short of the glory of God.” For those who find themselves captive to past unrighteous choices, stuck in a dark corner, without all the blessings available by the righteous exercise of agency, we love you. Come back! Come out of the dark corner and into the light. Even if you have to walk across a newly varnished floor, it is worth it. Trust that “through the Atonement of Christ, all mankind [including you and me] may be saved, by obedience to the laws and ordinances of the Gospel.”
As the hour of the Atonement was upon Him, the Savior offered His great Intercessory Prayer and spoke of each of us, saying: “Father, I will that they also, whom thou hast given me, be with me where I am; that they may behold my glory, which thou hast given me.” “And this is life eternal, that they might know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent.”
I bear my special witness that They live. When we exercise our agency in righteousness, we come to know Them, become more like Them, and prepare ourselves for that day when “every knee shall bow, and every tongue confess” that Jesus is our Savior. May we continue to follow Him and our Eternal Father, as we did in the beginning, I pray in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Born 9 July 1936 in Grass Valley, Oregon, to Merrill and Mal Berg Oveson, Stephen was the third of four children. He grew up in Oregon, then attended Brigham Young University before serving in the Northern Mexican Mission from 1956 to 1959. Upon his return to BYU to study finance and banking, he met Dixie Randall of Tempe, Arizona. On 7 September 1960, they married in the Arizona Temple. After they graduated from BYU in 1961, they moved to Tempe.

Brother Oveson spent the first 10 years of his career in finance and banking. In 1970, he went to work for the founder of Granada Royale Hometels—the first all-suite hotel chain in the United States. This chain eventually became Embassy Suites. In 1985, Brother Oveson started his own hotel development and management company—Suite Thinking, Inc.

Now residents of San Juan Capistrano, California, the Ovesons are the parents of six children, all sons, and grandparents of 15. With a family of boys, the Ovesons have always enjoyed sports and outdoor activities. Among their favorite memories over the last 25 years are yearly family vacations at Lake Powell and skiing trips to Utah. All of the boys have served missions.

No strangers to heartache, the Ovesons lost a two-and-a-half-year-old son to death. Today, still aware of the suffering of little children, Brother Oveson has found time among his many activities to be involved with Pathway, a center for disadvantaged children in Madras, India.

“I have a strong conviction that Heavenly Father’s plan for me is the one that I need to follow,” says Elder Oveson, who has served as a bishop, a stake missionary, a stake high councilor, and a temple ordinance worker in the San Diego Temple. “I look upon this calling as another blessing and opportunity from the Lord, and I plan to fulfill it to the best of my abilities.”

As Joseph Jr. got older, his leg grew stronger and he could easily walk through Palmyra. In town, he came in contact with people from all over the region, and many of them were turning to religion to satisfy spiritual yearnings and explain the hardships of life. Joseph and his family did not belong to a church, but many of their neighbors worshipped in one of the tall Presbyterian chapels, the Baptists’ meetinghouse, the Quaker hall, or the campground where traveling Methodist preachers held revival meetings from time to time.15
When Joseph was 12, religious debates swept Palmyra. Although he read little, he liked to think deeply about ideas. He listened to preachers, hoping to learn more about his immortal soul, but their sermons often left him unsettled. They told him he was a sinner in a sinful world, helpless without the saving grace of Jesus Christ. And while Joseph believed the message and felt bad about his sins, he was not sure how to find forgiveness.16
He thought going to church could help him, but he could not settle on a place to worship. The different churches argued endlessly about how people could be free of sin. After listening to these arguments for a while, Joseph was distressed to see people reading the same Bible but coming to different conclusions about its meaning. He believed God’s truth was out there—somewhere—but he did not know how to find it.17
Seeing his parents’ dissatisfaction with local churches only confused Joseph Jr. more.21 His soul was at stake, but no one could give him satisfying answers.
After saving their money for more than a year, the Smiths had enough to make a payment on a hundred acres of forest in Manchester, just south of Palmyra. There, between jobs as hired hands, they tapped maple trees for their sugary sap, planted an orchard, and cleared fields to grow crops.22
As he worked the land, young Joseph continued to worry about his sins and the welfare of his soul. The religious revival in Palmyra had quieted down, but preachers continued to compete for converts there and throughout the region.23 Day and night, Joseph watched the sun, moon, and stars roll through the heavens in order and majesty and admired the beauty of the earth teeming with life. He also looked at the people around him and marveled at their strength and intelligence. Everything seemed to testify that God existed and had created humankind in His own image. But how could Joseph reach Him?24
In the summer of 1819, when Joseph was 13, Methodist preachers gathered for a conference a few miles from the Smith farm and spread out across the countryside to spur families like Joseph’s toward conversion. The success of these preachers worried other ministers in the area, and soon competition for converts was intense.
Joseph attended meetings, listened to soul-stirring preaching, and witnessed converts shout for joy. He wanted to shout with them, but he often felt like he was in the middle of a war of words and opinions. “Who of all these parties are right; or, are they all wrong together?” he asked himself. “If any one of them be right, which is it, and how shall I know it?” He knew he needed Christ’s grace and mercy, but with so many people and churches clashing over religion, he did not know where to find it.25
Hope that he could find answers—and peace for his soul—seemed to slip away from him. He wondered how anyone could find truth amid so much noise.26
While attending a sermon, Joseph heard a minister quote from the first chapter of James in the New Testament. “If any of you lack wisdom,” he said, “let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not.”27
Joseph went home and read the verse in the Bible. “Never did any passage of scripture come with more power to the heart of man than this did at this time to mine,” he later remembered. “It seemed to enter with great force into every feeling of my heart. I reflected on it again and again, knowing that if any person needed wisdom from God, I did.” He had searched the Bible before as if it held all the answers. But now the Bible was telling him he could go directly to God for personal answers to his questions.
After Much Contemplation, by Al Rounds
Joseph decided to pray. He had never prayed out loud before, but he trusted the Bible’s promise. “Ask in faith, nothing wavering,” it taught.28 God would hear his questions—even if they came out awkwardly.
Joseph retired to the woods. He looked around for a secluded place to pray, and he determined to ask God for wisdom.
As he knelt in prayer, a thick darkness gathered around him. He was seized by an unseen power and surrounded by an evil influence that sought to destroy him. Joseph called on God for help.
At that moment, he saw a pillar of light above his head. When the light rested upon him, he saw two Personages standing above him in the air. One of them spoke, calling him by name and pointing to the other: “This is My Beloved Son. Hear Him!”
Joseph was told that his sins were forgiven and that he should not join any of the churches, for they were all wrong. He would be given further instruction in time.
When the vision ended, Joseph lay exhausted but filled with peace. He had found an answer to his questions and knew that God had heard him.
A complete list of works cited is available in English at saints.lds.org.
The word Topic in the notes indicates additional information online at saints.lds.org.

One of the greatest examples in my life happened when I was a brand-new General Authority on my first assignment. One of the General Authorities had a wife who had passed away just a few days before. I walked onto the airplane and there he was, sitting on the front row of the airplane. What a great message! I was moved by it because at the time I said to myself, “How can one who is suffering go out to help others?” He talked to me about how difficult it was for him to go on assignment, but he went to give succor and helped others when he was hurting.

Suffering is universal; how we react to suffering is individual. Suffering can take us one of two ways. It can be a strengthening and purifying experience combined with faith, or it can be a destructive force in our lives if we do not have the faith in the Lord’s atoning sacrifice. The purpose of suffering, however, is to build and strengthen us. We learn obedience by the things we suffer. We should be humbled and drawn to the Lord, as in the case of the prodigal son who appreciated his home only after going into the world and experiencing sorrow when he shut out his loved ones. (See Luke 15:11–32.) So suffering in his case was a vital part of his repentance.

When suffering comes as a consequence of sin, it should lead to repentance. Alma testified to his son Helaman:
“And it came to pass that as I was thus racked with torment, while I was harrowed up by the memory of my many sins, behold, I remembered also to have heard my father prophesy unto the people concerning the coming of one Jesus Christ, a Son of God, to atone for the sins of the world.
“Now, as my mind caught hold upon this thought, I cried within my heart: O Jesus, thou Son of God, have mercy on me, who am in the gall of bitterness, and am encircled about by the everlasting chains of death.
“And now, behold, when I thought this, I could remember my pains no more; yea, I was harrowed up by the memory of my sins no more.
“And oh, what joy, and what marvelous light I did behold; yea, my soul was filled with joy as exceeding as was my pain!” (Alma 36:17–20.)

I was a few months into my mission in the Illinois Chicago South Mission and still serving in my first area. The sisters’ area next to us had recently been closed, so we had responsibility for all of the Spanish-speaking investigators from that area. Among them was a woman named Rebecca.
The first time we met Rebecca, I was impressed by her faith. She lived in the basement of a house, so we had to knock on her window for her to come open the door for us. The previous missionaries had begun to teach her after she requested a Church video. If she had not called for a video, the missionaries may never have found her.
I could tell from what she told us that Rebecca had a hard life. She had once been a very happy person, but now she was separated from her son and other family. Although she was in humble circumstances, I felt the Lord’s love for her.
As we taught her, I could tell she was feeling the Spirit. Our visits would lift her mood considerably. Unfortunately, she lived far away, and it was hard to visit her as often as we would have liked.
One Friday when we had zone conference, we planned to go out to that part of our area afterwards since we were already halfway there. We asked Rebecca if she would be home, but she said she would be working. We decided we would still visit other investigators we had in the area.
We ended up with some extra time there, and we weren’t sure what to do. Then my companion said, “I think we should go see if Rebecca is home.” This suggestion didn’t make sense to me since Rebecca told us she would not be home. It was then I heard a voice telling me, “Go back and visit her.” I felt as if my body was literally being pulled in the direction of Rebecca’s house. It was the strongest impression I have ever felt.
I told my companion to turn the car around, and we went to Rebecca’s house. We knocked on the windows twice, and no one answered. I was so disappointed because I knew there had to be a reason the Lord sent us. I suggested we knock one more time. We waited, and then just as we were about to leave, Rebecca answered the door.
She was home because she had just been fired from her job, and she really needed someone to talk to. She had been praying that we would come. She told us we were her angels. We were able to talk to her and help her feel better by teaching her more about the gospel.
I’m so glad Heavenly Father cares for each of His children and listened to Rebecca’s prayer, and I’m glad we could follow the prompting to go visit her, so we could be that answer. Our Heavenly Father knows all the things that are going on in each of our lives, and when we rely on Him and ask in faith, He will help us with the things we need.

Following years of planning and preparation, I finally made my way to the Holy Land with family and close friends. As we approached the Sea of Galilee, we looked forward to seeing Capernaum.
In Capernaum we explored ruins and wandered down old city roads in awe of what this little village had witnessed (see Matthew 11:23). Later, I stopped and sat under a tree, pondering and gazing out on the Sea of Galilee. My great expectations to feel the events of the scriptures come to life, however, remained unfulfilled. Despite my preparation for the trip, sincerity in seeking Christ, and determination that had brought us here at last, I felt an emptiness that weighed on my heart.
Why wouldn’t this place where Christ blessed so many people also bless our lives? As I grappled with my feelings, I longed to read the scriptures. I checked with each member of our group, but sadly, no one had brought a Bible. Fortunately, one member of our group had a personal digital assistant with an electronic version of the scriptures on it. We soon gathered around, listening as someone read verses in Matthew 4 and Mark 5 about the Savior in Capernaum.
As soon as our focus shifted to the scriptures, the emptiness that I had been feeling was replaced with a comforting witness of the love of the Savior and of the reality of the events of which the scriptures testify. We had come to Capernaum searching for Christ, but we didn’t find Him until we searched the scriptures. It was not the physical surroundings that bore witness to us but the Holy Ghost.

At the age when most of my peers were preparing to go to college, I was figuring out how I was going to go on a mission. In Chile, everyone must take a test before they go to university. It’s only offered once a year, so if I went on a mission, I would not only be delaying my education for two years but also have to wait an additional year to go to school after that.
My family, especially my mother, was opposed to a mission. It was very important to her that I receive a college education. But I believed that the Lord would help me do what was necessary, so I prayerfully started preparing anyway.
When my bishop came to my house with my finished mission paperwork and asked for my mother’s signature, she was surprised; I hadn’t told her I was moving forward with the process. It took quite a bit of convincing, but the Lord softened her heart and helped her understand that I wanted to serve.
The gospel gave me the assurance that I was doing the right thing, but it was only by going forward, step by step, with faith—even with all my questions and uncertainties—that I kept progressing.

When I was young, we had two separate meetings on Sunday: Sunday School in the morning and sacrament meeting in the evening. We had to travel to a nearby town for church. When I was about nine years old, the Church members in our town got permission to have a branch Sunday School of our own. We had a little portable organ, and my father, who had helped get the branch Sunday School started, asked me if I would play the music every Sunday. I hadn’t known how to play the organ for very long, and it was hard.
Later, when I was about ten, I was asked to play the music for Primary. My piano teacher, who was also a Primary leader in my ward, encouraged me. I remember being very nervous as I played the Primary songs. But I did it, and I’m glad I did. My parents often expected me to do things that seemed hard at the time, but I think that those things helped me grow up and become more confident.

“The time is 6:30 A.M. The time is 6:30 A.M. The time is 6:30 A.M.”
Keith Kellman’s head emerged from under his pillow and trained a baleful eye on his talking alarm clock, which seemed to be taking special delight in waking him this Sunday morning. As his hand hit the “stop” button, he considered putting his head back under his pillow.
After all, the house heat was still off and it was cold out there. It wasn’t as if his parents would care if he got up or not; he was the sole churchgoer of the family. And he was tired. Early-morning seminary every weekday, and now priesthood meeting at 8:00 A.M. But then Keith sadly realized that all this thinking and debating had gotten his brain waves going, and he probably wouldn’t fall back to sleep anyway.
It wasn’t until he was showered, dressed, and halfway out the door that he remembered that today was the Sunday he had promised to give the bishop his answer.
He began to dig his car out of the snow, shivering and muttering to himself. Even before the Great Wednesday Humiliation, he had his doubts about going on a mission. But what had happened on Wednesday had really clinched it. But how do I tell the bishop? he wondered as his foot came down on the accelerator. The noise from his broken muffler shattered the morning silence.
“Cut your headlights. That must be him. Yep, ’80 rust bucket with an exhaust system loud enough to wake the neighborhood. Okay, he’s far enough ahead of us now. Pull out and follow him,” she said.
Keith was grateful his car made it to the church without the muffler falling off. He was also grateful he found a place to meditate before the meeting. He even began thinking the bishop might forget to call him into his office today.
Yeah, sure.
“Okay, so we followed him to this church and watched him go in. Now what? We know he hauls himself out of bed at an insane hour every morning to go to this church. You’ve seen what you wanted. Let’s go.”
“No. I want to wait a while and see if anybody else shows up. Then I’m going in to see what’s inside.”
“You’re going in? He’ll recognize you and know something’s up.”
“Don’t worry, baby brother. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m wearing my black wig today. I always wear my blonde wig to school. Anyway, I don’t exactly have the kind of face that will turn any heads. He’ll never know.”
“This is so stupid. If you’re that interested in this guy and his church, why don’t you just ask him what you want to know?”
“Listen. Anyone can mouth scriptures and high-sounding ideas. But does he really believe what he said last Wednesday. I want to know what this guy and everybody else inside are like when they don’t have an audience.”
“Following church, Keith went for his bishop’s interview. As he sat across from the bishop, Keith shifted nervously in his chair and then cleared his throat. “It isn’t that I don’t want to go on a mission.”
“Great, Keith. I’m glad you want to go.”
“Please, Bishop. I hate it when you do that. Look, it’s just that I really don’t think I’d make a good missionary. Face it. I weigh 120 pounds and I wear these stupid glasses. Nobody takes me seriously. I get so nervous when I have to speak in front of more than two people that I ooze sweat until my face turns red. Nobody’s going to listen to me; they’ll just laugh and slam the door in my face.”
“Don’t you think you’re exaggerating a little, Keith?
“Every time I try to be a good example, I become a laughingstock. Like last Wednesday at school. I was just going to lunch when this guy, Greg Filtch, stops me and pulls me into the lunchroom office. He said that he heard I was a Mormon and that he was interested in hearing a little about the Church.” Keith took a deep breath and went on. “ I knew Greg liked practical jokes, but this time I thought he might be sincere. So I told him about the Book of Mormon and how the Church had changed my life.
“Sounds promising. What happened?” the bishop asked.
“It was a setup. He had the PA system microphone under his jacket. He was broadcasting my testimony to the entire school. When I came out of the office, everyone in the lunchroom was in hysterics. Now I’m known as Mr. Televangelist. Everyone’s always going, ‘Hey, Preacher’ and ‘Hallelujah! Got any more good sermons today?’ My one try at missionary work and I disgrace the Church.”
“You can’t disgrace the Church by doing the right thing. I hear you substituted for the Gospel Essentials teacher this morning.”
Keith shrugged. “Another disaster. I was supposed to be giving a lesson on the importance of baptism, but halfway through the class this black-haired, skinny girl comes in and sits on the back row. All of a sudden the lesson plan goes completely out of my head and I start talking about the plan of salvation. About a half hour of this andshe excuses herself and cuts out of class.”
The bishop raised his eyebrows. “Sometimes that happens to me too. I feel impressed to teach certain principles at certain times.”
But Keith didn’t hear the bishop. “I drove away the only investigator that’s come to that class in a month.”
“Well, how’d it go? You look like you’re hyperventilating and your eyes are red. Should I call the doctor?”
“No, just give me a few minutes. I’ve decided I’m going to need your help tomorrow, though.”
“Hey, it’s the lunch-time preacher man! Here’s a little something for the collection plate.” Keith ducked as pennies from the Monday morning school crowd showered him. As he continued walking, Keith suddenly found himself staring up at all 225 pounds of Mike “The Wall” Wade, starting left tackle on the football team.
“Well, well. If it isn’t Mr. Righteousness, the man who knows the truth about everything,” Mike said. “I hear you think you’re Mr. Informed, Kellman. Mr. I Know The Truth.”
“I never, uh, said … ” Keith began to sputter.
“Here’s the deal, Mr. Religious. Why don’t you just admit to me and all these good folks that you may have been wrong about all this church stuff?”
Keith’s eyes focused directly into Mike’s. For some reason, Mike’s expression reflected more curiosity than fierceness—more like he wanted to know something. Keith relaxed a little and said, “What are you going to do, Wall, bash everybody who doesn’t agree with you? What I said last week stands. I told the truth. You might as well learn to live with it.” Mike looked at him, seemed to think about what Keith had said, then walked off.
“That was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done for you, Sharon. I hope you’re satisfied.”
“I’m satisfied, Mike.”
“I have to admit, though. That Kellman kid was beginning to get to me too. No more games, okay?”
“Okay. It’s time to hang up the ol’ cloak and dagger. Hand me the phone book, will you?”
“I got here as soon as I could, Bishop,” said Keith, meeting the bishop in front of his office. The bishop opened the door but didn’t say anything. When Keith stepped inside, he saw Mike Wade and a thin, familiar-looking girl standing in the far corner of the room. They both looked uncomfortable.
“Keith,” the bishop said, “I think these people have something to tell you.”
Mike pointed to the girl. “My sister Sharon. I know we don’t look like we’re from the same family. I got all the healthy genes, I guess. She’s … ” Mike’s voice trailed off.
The pale girl started to speak. Before she could, it hit Keith.
“Hey, you’re the girl that came to my Sunday School class. And haven’t I seen you around school? Only with different hair?”
“Keith,” Sharon began in a soft, clear voice. “I’m afraid we’ve been doing some awful things to you. It was all my idea, so don’t blame Mike. We’ve been spying on you, following you, and causing you all sorts of grief.”
“I, I don’t understand.”
“I had to find out if you really believed what you said.”
“What I said about what?”
“Let’s just say we caught your broadcast from the lunchroom.”
“Ohhh no. Not that again,” Keith sighed.
She smiled. “It wasn’t only that. It’s a long story.”
Mike cut in. “We live near your church, and every day we’d wake up when your car would come chugging down the road.”
“I go to church on Sundays and early-morning seminary the rest of the week,” Keith explained. “I guess I better get my muffler fixed.”
Sharon picked up the story. “At first, the noise just made us mad. But then I got to thinking. Why would someone get up at 5:30 every morning? After hearing what you said last week, I—we—followed you to your church. I realized you go all alone; like no one’s forcing you to do this religious thing. I was curious to know more in view of my current situation.”
“Current situation,” Keith repeated mechanically.
“Under this wig, I don’t have any hair. Chemotherapy. And it’s not doing much good anymore.”
Keith stared blankly, then allowed what she had just told him to sink in.
“I’m not looking for miracle cures or healings. I’m beyond that, I think. What I am looking for is—how do I put this?—not why I’m going to die, but why I lived in the first place. Does my life count for anything? Is there some sort of plan to all this?”
“Anyway,” Mike continued, “Sharon’s got this funny feeling that maybe you know something most everybody else doesn’t. So she crashed your church class, eavesdropped, tested you, and even made me threaten you. I’m sorry about that.”
Keith looked from one to the other and found himself speechless.
“I don’t blame you if you’re angry, but I was getting kind of desperate to know if there was anybody out there who really believed in anything. I remember what you were saying in that church class, and it made me feel really good inside. I think you can tell me what I want to know. You can tell me why?”
Keith met her gaze. “Yeah, I think I can.”
The bishop, who had been standing behind them, finally spoke. “She’s asked to take the discussions from the missionaries, Keith. Maybe you’d like to sit in on them with her.”
Keith smiled and hooked a thumb at Mike. “What about His Wallness?”
Mike grinned. “Well, I could go. I guess I owe you that much.”
Keith added, “Maybe I could learn a few things too. Maybe even pick up a few pointers that will come in handy for the next two years.”

With a start, I awoke and listened. It was still dark so I knew it wasn’t the breakfast call that had awakened me. I nudged my older brother. “Ben, wake up. Something strange is happening.”
Ben pushed a sleep-fogged head out of the covers and listened. “I don’t hear anything, Shrimp. Go back to sleep.”
“That’s just it,” I insisted. “There aren’t any sounds!”
Ben listened again and then he smiled. “It’s probably snowing. It’s sure cold enough for it.” His blond head disappeared under the comforter.
The first real snow this year, I thought. Maybe there’s enough for sledding on the hill. As soon as I heard Mama lighting the kitchen stove, I threw on my clothes to keep the bed warmth in and ran downstairs to the heat below.
“What brings you down without a third call and a few threats thrown in?” asked Mama.
“It snowed!” I almost shouted the news.
“It certainly did—almost two feet,” Mama said. Then Ben and the little ones came clattering in, and the kitchen became a cheery waking-up place with the smell of bacon frying and everyone talking about what to do in the snow.
“Whoa,” said Mama, moving Wyn by the shoulders to his seat at the table. “This is a school day. You’d better eat and get out of here. It will take you longer to get to the bus stop in these drifts.”
“Oh, please, let us stay home,” we chorused.
“Sorry, fellows. Only Libby stays, since she has a cold.”
Outdoors I flopped on my back in the glistening snow. “Look, I’m an angel,” I called, flapping my arms and legs to leave an angel print.
“That’s about as close as you’ll ever come to being an angel,” yelled Ben, as he pelted me with snowballs. Seeing me down, Wyn and Jon joined in. I was laughing and trying to get up when the school bus horn blared. “We’ll be skinned for sure if we miss it. Run!” cried Ben.
All day at school the class was noisy. At two o’clock our teacher announced that school would be dismissed early. She laughed as we all plunged for the coatroom.
“Let’s not wait for the bus, Ben,” I suggested. “We’re out a whole hour early so let’s walk.”
“Can’t. We’d be late and then we’d catch it.”
“Not if we cut cross-country.” Turning to Jon and Wyn I called, “Last one over the fence is a scrungy turtle.” Over they climbed and then Ben followed, just like I knew he would.
“Good thing Libby’s not with us,” Jon said, knee-deep in the snow. “She couldn’t keep up in these drifts.”
“That gives me an idea. Poor Libby’s been in all day with her cold. Why don’t we roll a couple of balls and surprise her with a gigantic snowman?” I suggested. Ben thought it would take too long, but Wyn and Jon wanted to.
It was fun racing two and two, pushing the snowballs. But soon Ben and Jon got ahead as our snowballs grew bigger and harder to push. “It must be getting late,” said Ben, looking at the lowering sky.
“Maybe it’s just darker because it’s started to snow again,” I ventured.
“Either way, we’d better leave one ball. We’ll make good time with the four of us on one.”
It was really dark when we reached our lane. Ahead we could see headlights and from the sound we guessed it was Papa’s truck. Around the corner it came and caught the four of us and our giant snowball full in the headlights. The truck skidded to a stop. Papa came flying out of the cab. “Your mother has called half the county, trying to locate you!” he shouted. “As a last resort I was on my way to town to round up a search party. We figured you’d freeze if you stayed out in this all night. Now here I find you, playing with a snowball!” He waved an arm at the back of the truck and we piled in, leaving the giant snowball behind.
When we reached home, Papa said, “You get into the house fast and think of something nice to say to your mother, to make up for all the worry you’ve caused. If you’re lucky, she may heat up some supper for you.”
When we went into the kitchen, she seemed more glad to see us than anything else. After supper Papa ordered us up to bed. I was thinking we were getting off easy when he boomed, “All except Ben.” As usual, the ideas from my shrimpy-red head got us into trouble, but it was Ben who got the blame. He’s the oldest and Papa always says he’s responsible.
I went straight to bed, but I meant to stay awake until Ben came up. Next thing I knew Mama was calling, “Breakfast!”
Ben stirred. “Gosh, Ben. I’m sorry,” I began. “What happened after we came to bed?”
“It wasn’t too bad, Shrimp. Wait and see.”
Nothing was said at breakfast. Then we all piled into the truck to ride to the bus stop. Libby was going, too, and Papa said he didn’t want her starting the day all wet.
Before we reached the end of the lane the truck stopped. From the cab we could hear Libby squealing and Papa’s deep laugh. We all hung out the back to see. By the side of the road stood the gigantic snowman we had planned for Libby!
I looked at Ben. He grinned and then explained. “When I told Papa why we were late, he said it had been a dumb thing to do. He left me squirming for a few minutes and then said, ‘Well, get some warm clothes on. If we’re going to finish that snowman, we’d better get started now that it’s stopped snowing.’”
By the truck lights they had finished him off to be a giant, taller even than Papa. He was a proper snowman, too, with rock eyes, a carrot nose, and a hat borrowed from our old horse.
“The snowman won’t mind that his hat has slits for ears,” said Libby, her eyes shining with pleasure.
“I’m sure he won’t,” Papa said. And we looked at each other and winked.

It was Gerald Brown who gave the challenge to his son to chop what seemed like way too much wood on that clear fall morning in Cardston, Alberta, Canada. Young Vic Brown would rather have been out on the Alberta prairies, running his horse through the crisp morning air, but he respected his father. He knew that he had been asked to chop more wood than a young man of his age should really be capable of chopping. But it was that special kind of father-to-son challenge—and challenge was something that Victor Lee Brown liked, something he faced head on. The wood was needed for cooking and heating in the Brown family home, and Vic knew that cutting the wood was not just a challenge, but one of those necessities for which he could share the burden of responsibility. With the smooth handle of the axe in his young hands, he began to chop. As he swung the axe, Vic could feel the warmth build inside as he worked. The thunk of the axe and the sweet smell of the newly split logs were partial payment, but the best came nearly five hours later as he split the last log and stacked it away. It was a warm and weary feeling, knowing that his task was well done. The appreciation from his father was just as warm and sincere, and it was tinged with just a bit of surprise because his young son had been able to accomplish a man-size task.
Victor L. Brown was serving as first counselor in his deacons quorum presidency at the time of the wood chopping incident, and he was a young man who accepted responsibility and loved the challenge of an unfinished task. The future would prove to hold many great challenges for the young deacon from Cardston.

Many years ago while serving in the United States Infantry in the South Pacific, my outfit was making a dry run on a seemingly deserted beach in the Admiralty Islands.
When my particular unit went ashore and scattered around on patrol, we came by chance upon a small native village. I will never forget one of the most interesting sights I have ever seen. All of the natives who appeared on the scene had dyed, reddish-orange hair, and every man, woman, and child—in fact, every living creature that I could see: dogs, animals of all sorts—wore a string of large green beads to the end of which were fastened three tiny shells. We learned upon inquiry from a Baptist minister who had labored amongst these natives that these beaded ornaments were used to ward off the bad results of an “evil eye” and bring good luck to the person or animal that wore it.
In this strange little village so far removed from our own culture it was believed that bad luck, sometimes even death, would follow if a mere glance from the evil eye of an enemy fell upon a person or animal. Hence, practically all of the animals and people wore such a string of beads as I have mentioned.

And, we do not have to do this alone. He will help us all the way. He knows each of us. He loves us. I had a special witness of this just the other day. It was a moment of deep spirituality for me. I was vacuuming, mulling over in my mother's mind all of the challenges members of my family are facing right now. Okay, I was worrying a little as mothers will. And I happened to look up at a picture on the wall of my son. Whenever I look at this picture I have particularly sweet, tender feelings because he is the son that we lost in an accident just three years ago at the age of 34. But this day, as I looked up and saw him, words came instantly into my mind so clearly, I could almost hear his voice saying to me, "Mom, everything is going to be all right, because He loves us more than you can even know." And I knew that he knew this because he has felt the arms of the Savior around him. He has looked into his face. He has gone ahead of us and has experienced things that we all long to experience. He understands, better than we do, life in the eternal perspective.

At the age of 14, I moved from the Bay Area of California, USA, to St. George, Utah. Traveling to a different state started as an exciting adventure, but once my family arrived and I started attending a new school, I quickly became lonely. My loneliness led to very unhealthy thoughts and feelings. I began to question whether my family loved me and even thought of suicide.
One Sunday I was really struggling and was wondering if there was even such a thing as love in the world. At church that same Sunday, my father spoke in sacrament meeting and told the congregation that if they had a question—any question at all—then they could ask God and He would give them an answer. That night, I humbly prayed before Heavenly Father as I never had done before. I told Him how lonely and sorrowful I was and told Him that I felt hopeless.
At this time, I felt that I only needed one question answered: “Heavenly Father, do You love me?” Although it seemed difficult to put this question in my prayer, I asked, desiring to know the truth with every beat of my heart. The answer came through the Spirit, and an overwhelming feeling of calm and peace filled my soul. To this day I cannot explain the depth of Heavenly Father’s love that I felt that night. Knowing that God loves me unlocked my testimony of everything else.

Three brothers walked away with first prize in the Grand Prix de la Chanson Eurovision 1984. The competition is an important one in Europe, receiving extensive television coverage and generating much interest since each of 19 countries sends one performing group to the competition.
Per, Richard, and Louis Herrey, originally of Sweden but now living in Los Angeles, California, returned to their native country and won the right to represent Sweden at the international competition. At the competition, which took place in Luxembourg, the Herrey brothers took first prize home for Sweden.
Prior to their victory, the boys had received other awards. Per, who served a mission in Chile, was selected to participate in an international song contest in Chile. He sang an original composition. Richard has danced in seven episodes of the television show Fame.
Following their victory, the brothers will tour Sweden and Europe and prepare the songs they want to use in cutting a record album.
The Herrey family is active in the Westwood Second Ward, Westwood California Stake.

I will tell you of an experience I had before I was a General Authority that affected me profoundly. I sat on a plane next to a professed atheist who pressed his disbelief in God so urgently that I bore my testimony to him. “You are wrong,” I said. “There is a God. I know He lives!”
He protested, “You don’t know. Nobody knows that! You can’t know it!” When I would not yield, the atheist, who was an attorney, asked perhaps the ultimate question on the subject of testimony. “All right,” he said in a sneering, condescending way, “you say you know. Tell me how you know.”
When I attempted to answer, even though I held advanced academic degrees, I was helpless to communicate.
When I used the words Spirit and witness, the atheist responded, “I don’t know what you are talking about.” The words prayer, discernment, and faith were equally meaningless to him. “You see,” he said, “you don’t really know. If you did, you would be able to tell me how you know.”
I felt, perhaps, that I had borne my testimony to him unwisely and was at a loss as to what to do. Then came the experience! Something came into my mind. And I mention here a statement of the Prophet Joseph Smith: “A person may profit by noticing the first intimation of the spirit of revelation; for instance, when you feel pure intelligence flowing into you, it may give you sudden strokes of ideas … and thus by learning the Spirit of God and understanding it, you may grow into the principle of revelation, until you become perfect in Christ Jesus.”1
Such an idea came into my mind, and I said to the atheist, “Let me ask if you know what salt tastes like.”
“Of course I do,” was his reply.
“Then,” I said, “assuming that I have never tasted salt, explain to me just what it tastes like.”
After some thought, he said, “Well, I, uh, it is not sweet and it is not sour.”
“You’ve told me what it isn’t, not what it is.”
After several attempts, of course, he could not do it. He could not convey, in words alone, so ordinary an experience as tasting salt. I bore testimony to him once again and said, “I know there is a God. You ridiculed that testimony and said that if I did know, I would be able to tell you exactly how I know. My friend, spiritually speaking, I have tasted salt. I am no more able to convey to you in words how this knowledge has come than you are to tell me what salt tastes like. But I say to you again, there is a God! He does live! And just because you don’t know, don’t try to tell me that I don’t know, for I do!”
As we parted, I heard him mutter, “I don’t need your religion for a crutch! I don’t need it.”

One summer, I participated in an internship on an island in Bicol, Philippines. The view of the ocean was wonderful, and I looked forward to each morning.

I dreaded the evenings, however. That’s when the people in the camp would start drinking and having parties. Invitations to such parties were frequent, and my fellow interns and I had to attend, since not attending would be disrespectful.

The first party was a welcoming party for new interns. I was afraid to attend, because I was pretty sure that they would offer us drinks and I wasn’t sure how to decline. I called a friend in my home ward, and he gave me some wonderful advice that boosted my confidence.

When the party began, they offered us drinks but, fortunately, did not compel us to drink. Since my fellow interns accepted my stand of not drinking, refusing the next offers to drink was now easy for me—until one night. During one of the parties, the president of the company came. He was carrying a bottle of lambanog (a local wine made from coconut). Soon after his arrival, I saw him pouring some of the wine. He then said, “You must learn how to drink” and gave the glass to one of the interns. She quickly drank it.

My heart began to pound heavily. It would soon be my turn. I was whispering silently to myself, “I will not drink it. I will not drink it.” Then I saw the president extending the glass of wine to me. I didn’t know what to do. My fellow interns were looking at me, waiting to see what I would do. I smiled at the president and humbly said, “Sorry, sir, but I do not drink.”

I knew he was disappointed. He asked why I didn’t drink. I said, “I am a Mormon.”

He said, “I haven’t heard of that religion. It sounds like a type of food.” Everyone laughed.

I smiled too, not because of his joke but because I knew I had done the right thing.

No one ever offered me a drink again. But still the ridicule did not cease, even from my own friends. One even said that I was lying and that it’s unimaginable that members of the Church do not drink. During this time I felt the pressures that come to members of the Church.

My stay on that island taught me a lot of lessons, not just academically but spiritually. I learned that mockery may never cease, but the Spirit of the Lord will always guide you to do what is right.