Gospel Story Finder

The morning of my eighteenth birthday was beautiful. I opened my birthday gifts and left for college classes knowing that the best part of the day would be at 7:30 that evening, when I would be baptized.
My family met me for lunch. Shortly after eating, I became ill and began to have great pain. My mother suggested I go home, where she put me to bed. I couldn’t sleep. The pain was so great that I got out of bed and knelt in prayer. As I pleaded for the Lord to take away the pain so I could go through with my long-awaited baptism, a great darkness filled the room. Frightened, I cried for help to see me through this terror. When I opened my eyes, it was three hours later and my older sister stood beside me. She asked how I was and suggested I get ready for the baptism. I looked out of the window and saw the sun was shining brightly. I thanked my Father in Heaven for my answered prayer, and my family and I went to the church.

When I was in a young adult ward, I had family home evening with my ward family. One of the most memorable family home evenings I ever attended was a night when the full-time missionaries were in charge.
The elders invited several of the converts in our ward to share their conversion stories. As the converts spoke, the Spirit’s presence was undeniable.
After the stories had been shared, my mind returned to my own missionary experiences—as both a full-time and a lifetime missionary. I reevaluated my own actions in sharing the gospel on a day-to-day basis and continued to reflect on them for weeks to come.
When I was later called to be in charge of family home evening in the ward, I made it a point to continue “the conversion stories night” activity periodically, asking different converts in our ward to participate.
Janna McFerson, California, USA

Peter Miller of Bozeman, Montana, was selected to receive an International Youth Year Award from the U.S. Secretary of Education. The awards focus attention on young Americans whose deeds and actions exemplify exceptional character and citizenship.
Peter was nominated and selected for his efforts in raising money for African famine victims by organizing a musical concert held in a Bozeman city park. The event featured 24 musical acts performed by students of Bozeman Senior High School.
Peter served as first assistant in his priests quorum.

Illustration by Ken Harvey
I didn’t usually run home from school and fling open my scriptures to study them, but today was unusual. Sprawled on my bed, I booted up my laptop and typed two words: Dear Jessica.
I’d known Jessica for a few years, but our conversations were brief. One day in English, however, we were assigned seats by each other, and our class discussion ventured into the topic of religious symbolism.
I was surprised when Jessica, an atheist and usually argumentative, started asking the teacher questions that were uncharacteristically sincere: “What did ‘Godhead’ mean? What does it mean that there are three members?”
Finally, Jessica leaned back and confided to me, “I’m glad I’m not religious; it just seems like a lot to keep track of.”
I struggled for words, but I couldn’t let a moment like this pass. “I actually love the Church,” I said at last. The discussion was moving on, so we promised to talk more after class. I shared a bit of my testimony and eventually lent her a few books about our faith.
After a few weeks of discussions both religious and nonreligious, Jessica finally said, “I understand what you’re getting at, Sydney, but I don’t know if I can believe all of this. I just can’t believe that God would let so many bad things happen to us.”
I didn’t feel ready to answer her question on the spot, so I asked for her email, which led to me being sprawled on my bed, scriptures open, unsure of what to write.
I refocused on the screen. Dear Jessica. I looked at the sticky notes I’d filled with scriptures and started writing.
As I wrote, the Spirit surged up within me. Each word fell together with power and clarity.
Dear Jessica,I don’t know exactly what you’ve been through, what your struggles are, or what the exact words you need are, but God does.
I’ve been thinking a lot about your questions: “Why do I have trials? And why doesn’t God just stop them and make everything easier?”
First, it’s important to understand that progression is eternal. We don’t just become worthy of God’s presence overnight. It’s a lifelong process. Struggle is required, but even though life is hard, I know that “men are, that they might have joy” (2 Nephi 2:25). God does not cast our struggles upon us because that’s just how life is; He desperately wants us to be happy. However, I can say that this life is about not only our natural progression through struggles, but about our eternal progression in overcoming them.
Jessica, Jesus Christ knows how to come to our aid! While you have struggles in your life, Jesus Christ had them in His too. I promise that He understands every one of your struggles exactly and that He knows you personally. I know I’m only a 15-year-old girl, but I know He lives, that this is all true, and that He loves you more than it is humanly possible to imagine.
Please come to me with any more questions you have!
Love,
Sydney
I stared at the document for a few minutes. I’d written for almost two hours, leafing through scriptures and every example I could think of to produce this. As I scanned through it, I felt completely at peace. I closed my scriptures and clicked Send.
Jessica and I never talked about that letter, and she ended up moving. I don’t know if my words will lead her to the gospel this year, in 10 years, or ever in this lifetime, but writing that email helped my testimony. I’m confident it can have the same effect on her as soon as she chooses to let it.

They became involved in this work in an unusual way.
“My friend and I were assigned to perform some vicarious ordinances in the Brisbane Australia Temple,” Michael said. “I had driven to the temple in my business van, and when I was returning to it after the completion of my assignment, a fellow approached me in the car park and said he was the facilities manager for the Church in the area.
“He asked if I would be interested in doing some work for the Church.”
Michael says, “We were asked if we would be willing to do some gilding (painting with special gold paint) on a statue of the angel Moroni. We told him that we were willing, submitted a bid, and we did that very interesting work and have since been fortunate enough to work on many other projects.”

Another insight on building a marital relationship on the rock of Jesus Christ is found in Ephesians 4:26: “Let not the sun go down upon your wrath.” This particular verse has likely been the source of the advice often given to newlyweds, “Never go to bed angry.” My wife, Susan, and I were given this advice by a well-meaning relative when we were married. I joke that there was one time during our first year of marriage when we went nearly three days without sleep! Many married couples may realize, as we did early in our marriage, that late at night when they are tired is not always the best time to resolve conflicts. But undoubtedly the spirit of Paul’s counsel to the Ephesians would motivate us to resolve conflicts quickly so they do not persist and grow more intense over time. The Savior also admonished His disciples to resolve conflicts with dispatch so they could approach their God with pure hearts (see Matt. 5:23–24).

Due to his autism, my younger son was afraid of being in large groups and meeting new people, but the ward welcomed us with open arms and did everything they could to accommodate our needs. The members set aside a special room at the back of the chapel just for my son, and they fulfilled our request to avoid making eye contact with him until he felt more at ease. Even when one of my children would disrupt sacrament meeting, we were treated with the utmost respect and kindness.
I saw my sons unfold in the warmth of the ward’s embrace. They quickly made new friends, and my sons even started to attend Primary classes on days that I was unable to attend church.
We were eventually baptized, a memory that still brings tears to my eyes. At the baptismal service, the ward members—understanding my children’s fear of crowds—tiptoed into the back of the room after the boys had been seated to avoid frightening them. Afterward, we were offered a mountain of congratulatory sweets, and the love in the room was so palpable that my sons remarked, “I want to be baptized again!”

One night I was sitting at home thinking about what I was going to do about a specific friend. She was getting involved with the wrong kind of people. I didn’t want to get the reputation she was getting, but I still wanted her good friendship.
That’s when I picked up the January issue of the New Era. I read the Questions and Answers section that talked about having rowdy friends. It said that I should be an example to her.
I really needed that article. It came at the perfect time. Now I know that with the help of that article, and the help of my Heavenly Father, I can better help my friend. Thank you so much.
UnsignedFruit Heights, Utah

When I decided to serve a mission, one of the most difficult things was reading the Book of Mormon and keeping a journal. It took me an entire hour to read just one page of the scriptures. Since I had never been great at writing, I wondered how I would be able to effectively document in my journal all the wonderful experiences I would have as a missionary.
But I kept trying and praying for the Lord’s help.
As time went by, I saw small changes. By the end of my mission, I was able to read better than I ever had in my life. And as I kept attempting to write in my journal, I suddenly learned that I actually enjoyed writing. When I finished my mission, I had filled five journals.
This experience taught me that when we turn to the Lord in our efforts, He can truly bring about miracles in our lives.

Sometimes that love comes in unexpected ways. Kristen was finishing a graduate degree and had recently given birth to her second child. She felt the other graduates had accomplished so much more and was reluctant to attend the graduation dinner. Her fears were confirmed when, at the dinner, the students were asked to list their professional accomplishments. Kristen recalled: “I suddenly felt embarrassed and ashamed. I had nothing to call myself, no lofty position, no impressive job title.” To make matters worse, the professor read the lists as he presented a diploma to each student. The woman ahead of Kristen had many accomplishments: she already had a PhD, was receiving a second master’s degree, and she’d even been a mayor! The woman received grand applause.

Then it was Kristen’s turn. She handed the professor her blank sheet, trying to hold back the tears. The professor had been one of her teachers and had praised her performance. He looked at her blank paper. Without missing a beat he announced, “Kristen holds the most critical role in all of society.” He was quiet for a few seconds, then declared in a powerful voice, “She is the mother of her children.” Instead of a few courteous claps, people rose to their feet. There was just one standing ovation that night; it was for the mother in the room.

I am grateful to be with you in this great priesthood meeting. All of us are members of a quorum in the priesthood. That may not seem remarkable to you, but it does to me. I was ordained a deacon in the Aaronic Priesthood in a tiny branch of the Church. There was only one family in the branch. We had no chapel. We met in our house. I was the only deacon and my brother the only teacher.
So I know what it is like to exercise the priesthood alone, without serving with others in a quorum. I was content in that small branch without a quorum. I had no way to know what I was missing. And then my family moved across a continent to where there were many priesthood holders and strong quorums.
I have learned over the years that the strength in a quorum doesn’t come from the number of priesthood holders in it. Nor does it come automatically from the age and maturity of the members. Rather, the strength of a quorum comes in large measure from how completely its members are united in righteousness. That unity in a strong quorum of the priesthood is not like anything I have experienced in an athletic team or club or any other organization in the world.
The words of Alma, recorded in the book of Mosiah, come closest to describing the unity I have felt in the strongest priesthood quorums:
“And he commanded them that there should be no contention one with another, but that they should look forward with one eye, having one faith and one baptism, having their hearts knit together in unity and in love one towards another.”
Alma even told his people how to qualify for that unity. He told them that they should preach nothing save it were repentance and faith on the Lord, who had redeemed his people.
What Alma was teaching, and what is true in any unified priesthood quorum I have seen, is that the members’ hearts are being changed through the Atonement of Jesus Christ. That is how their hearts become knit together.
You can see then why the Lord charges the presidents of quorums to lead in the way that He does. In the 107th section of the Doctrine and Covenants, He uses almost the same words describing the duties of the president in each quorum. The deacons quorum president is to teach the quorum members their duty “as it is given according to the covenants.” The president of the teachers quorum is to teach its members their duties as “given in the covenants.” The president of the priests quorum, who is the bishop, is commanded “to preside over forty-eight priests, and sit in council with them, to teach them the duties of their office, as is given in the covenants.”
The elders quorum president is charged this way:
“Again, the duty of the president over the office of elders is to preside over ninety-six elders, and to sit in council with them, and to teach them according to the covenants.”
It is easy to understand why God wants His quorums taught “according to the covenants.” Covenants are solemn promises. Heavenly Father has promised us all eternal life if we will make and keep covenants. For instance, we receive the priesthood with a covenant to be faithful in helping Him in His work. The people we baptize into His Church promise to have faith in Jesus Christ and to repent and to keep His commandments. Every covenant requires faith in Jesus Christ and obedience to His commandments to qualify for the forgiveness and purified hearts necessary to inherit eternal life, the greatest of all the gifts of God.
You might ask, “Does that mean that every lesson in the quorum must only be about faith and repentance?” Of course not. But it does mean that the teacher and those who participate must always desire to bring the Spirit of the Lord into the hearts of the members in the room to produce faith and a determination to repent and to be clean.
And that desire goes beyond the walls of the room where the quorum meets. In a truly united quorum, that desire extends to the members wherever they are.
I saw that a few years ago in a deacons quorum where I had been called to teach the lessons. A few of the deacons failed to come to the quorum meetings from time to time. I knew that the teaching in that quorum—and in every quorum—was the charge of the president, who had keys. He was to sit in council with all of them. And so I have made a habit of seeking the counsel of the one with the charge from God by asking him, “What do you think I should teach? What should I try to accomplish?”
I learned to follow his counsel because I knew God had given him responsibility for the teaching of his quorum members. I knew one Sunday that God had honored the charge to a young quorum president. I was teaching the deacons. I noticed an empty chair. There was a recording device sitting on the chair, and I could see that it was running. After the class, a boy sitting next to the empty chair picked up the recorder. As he started to leave the room, I asked him why he had recorded our discussion. He smiled and said that another deacon had told him that he wouldn’t be in the quorum that day. He was taking the recorder to his friend at home so that he could listen to our lesson.
I had trusted in the responsibility given to a young quorum president, so help from heaven came. The Spirit came to touch the members in that room and sent one of them to a friend to try to strengthen his faith and lead him to repentance. The deacon carrying the recorder had learned according to the covenants, and he reached out to help his friend and fellow member in the quorum.
Priesthood quorum members are taught in more ways than by lessons in a class. The quorum is a service unit, and the members learn in their service. A quorum can give greater service than the members could give alone. And that power is multiplied by more than their numbers. Every quorum has a leader with authority and responsibility to direct priesthood service. I have seen the power that comes when quorums are called to move out to help in times of disaster. Time and again I have had people outside the Church express surprise and admiration for the effectiveness of the Church in organizing to give help. It seems to them like a miracle. In all priesthood service the miracle of power comes because leaders and members honor the authority of those who direct the service in priesthood quorums across the earth.
Miracles of power can come as quorums reach out to serve others. They come as well when the priesthood service is to members within the quorum. A deacons quorum president met early one Sunday, before the quorum meeting, with his counselors and with the quorum secretary. After prayerful consideration in council, he felt inspired to call a deacon to invite to the next quorum meeting another deacon who had never attended. He knew that the deacon who had never attended had a father who was not a member of the Church and that his mother had little interest in the Church.
The designated deacon accepted the call from his president to contact the boy. He went. I watched him go. He went a little reluctantly, as if it might be a hard task. The boy he invited to come with him to quorum came only a few times before his family moved away. Many years later I was in a stake conference thousands of miles away from where that deacons quorum had met. Between conference meetings, a man I did not know came up to me and asked if I knew someone. He gave me a name. It was the boy who was called by his deacons quorum president to go after and care for one lost sheep. The man said to me, “Will you thank him for me? I am the grandfather of the boy he invited to a deacons quorum years ago. He is grown now. But he still talks with me about the deacon who invited him to go with him to church.”
He had tears in his eyes, and so did I. A young quorum president had been inspired to reach out to a lost member of his quorum. He was inspired to send a boy on the errand to serve. That president had done what the Master would have done. And in the process a young president trained a new priesthood holder in his duty to serve others according to the covenants. Hearts were knit which were still connected after more than 20 years and across thousands of miles. Quorum unity lasts when it is forged in the Lord’s service and in the Lord’s way.
One of the hallmarks of a strong quorum is the feeling of fellowship among its members. They care for each other. They help each other. Quorum presidents can build that fellowship best if they remember the Lord’s purpose for unity in the quorum. It is of course so that they will help each other. But it is more, much more. It is so that they will lift and encourage each other to serve in righteousness with the Master in His work to offer eternal life to Heavenly Father’s children.
Understanding that will change the way we try to build fellowship in the quorum. For instance, it might even change the way a teachers quorum plays basketball. The members might hope to build fellowship, more than just to win a game. They could choose to invite a boy who is always left out because he doesn’t play very well. If he accepts and comes, the members of the quorum are likely to pass the ball a little more, looking for the open man, especially the boy who isn’t likely to score. Twenty years later they may not remember whether they won that night, but they will always remember how they played together and why—and whose team it was. It was the Lord who said, “If ye are not one ye are not mine.”

“Hey, Aaron,” Ty called from the other end of the church gym. “Come shoot some hoops with us!”
Aaron shifted the box of paper cups and napkins in his arms and shook his head. “I can’t,” he called back. “I’m helping my mom set up for Relief Society.”
Aaron heard Ty and some of his other friends laugh as they dribbled and passed the basketball. All of the boys were in his Primary class except Todd, a new boy who didn’t go to church. Aaron heard Todd ask, “What’s Relief Society?”
“It’s a meeting for moms and old ladies … and Aaron!” Ty laughed again.
Aaron ducked into the kitchen and dropped the box on the counter. He knew that Relief Society wasn’t just for moms and old ladies, and it wasn’t just a meeting either. When his mother was in the hospital, Relief Society sisters brought delicious meals to his family. They also served his family a luncheon after his grandfather’s funeral. Mom had explained that the Relief Society also helps the bishop care for the sick and poor in the ward. Aaron enjoyed helping Mom with Relief Society activities because he always had a good feeling afterward, and he often got to sample the leftover treats.
But he didn’t have a good feeling right now. He didn’t like being laughed at. “Mom, can I go play with Ty and the other guys?” he asked.
“I’m counting on you, Aaron,” Mom said. “I really need you to put chairs around the tables.”
Grumbling to himself, Aaron shuffled over to the rack of chairs against the wall. He lifted one off the top, and the one below it clattered to the hardwood floor. Some of the boys laughed, but Todd said, “Why don’t we go help him?”
Ty shot the basketball and missed. “No way,” he said, chasing down the ball. “We only have the gym for five more minutes. I’m not going to waste my time on Relief Society.”
Aaron unfolded more chairs and arranged them around the tables. Brother Brown arrived to help, and soon the two of them had completed the job. But Aaron knew that he wasn’t finished. Mom handed him a stack of tablecloths and paper napkins. He turned away from the boys at the other end of the gym and concentrated on getting the tablecloths straight. Brother Brown and several Relief Society sisters worked around him, setting the tables and making everything look nice. Aaron took a pitcher of water and started to fill the paper cups at each place, when suddenly a basketball crashed into the table, spilling water everywhere.
Ty ran over to retrieve the ball just as Aaron’s mother came out of the kitchen. “It’s time for you to go so we can have our meeting,” she told Ty.
Ty picked up the ball and dribbled it at his side. “Ah, come on, Sister Dean, we won’t bother you. We’ll just play at that end while you have your meeting over here.”
“Sorry, Ty,” she said. “It’s our turn now. You boys will have to leave.” She turned and walked back into the kitchen.
Aaron mopped up the spilled water with a wad of napkins. Ty was still standing there looking stubborn, bouncing the ball up and down. Aaron didn’t want to argue with his friend, but he didn’t want to let Mom down either. He offered a quick and silent prayer.
“Listen, Ty,” he said with a smile. “Why don’t you guys help me finish, and then we can go outside and play basketball before it gets too dark. The Relief Society is having brownies and ice cream afterward, and my mom might give us some if we help out.”
Ty looked around and the other boys waited to see what he would do. Aaron took the pitcher of water and pointed at the empty cups. “If we all take a table, we’ll get done fast.”
Later, Aaron’s mom brought brownies and ice cream outside for the boys. “I want to thank you guys for helping out tonight,” she said. “It sure made my job a lot easier.”
Todd took a spoonful of ice cream and grinned. “This is your job?” he asked. “Where do I sign up?”

A young man came to see me recently who had been called by the Lord to fill a mission. He was a fine young man—handsome, strong, sharp—but he said he didn’t want to go on his mission because there were other things that he would rather do. As we visited he told me that one thing he would rather do was drive a dune buggy. We talked about the relative merits of trading eternal life for a dune buggy; and he decided, perhaps, that was not exactly a fair exchange. I suggested to him that if he still wanted to drive a dune buggy after he had filled his mission, the Lord would probably let him do so, since the Lord always grants unto men “according to their desire.” (Alma 29:4.)

I remember the summer before entering college having the chance to go to Monument Valley to work on the first high school built there for the Navajo people. As I was about to leave home, my father asked me if I was going to take my Book of Mormon. I hadn’t thought to, but I paid heed to his question. I remember lying in my bunk late at night at the construction site and feeling the spirit and power of the Book of Mormon.

I remember as a young missionary in the Great Lakes Mission coming to that great knowledge and absolute testimony that the Book of Mormon was another witness of another nation that Jesus is the Christ and that this Church is true. From those experiences there burns in my heart today that divine witness of the message of the Book of Mormon, of Christ as our Savior and Redeemer, and of the Restoration of His Church in these latter days.

I was a single parent. I barely had enough money to buy food and pay my bills. Often it was a matter of paying tithing or buying food, paying my utility bills, or making a car payment.
For years, I went through stages of trying to pay tithing. Finally, I said, “If you believe the gospel is true, then you need to step out there. Once you step out there, God can bless you.”
I owed $500 in tithing, but I also needed $503 to pay some bills. I didn’t see how it would work, but I said, “I’m just going to try.” I paid my tithing. Nobody knew I was $503 short, but somebody anonymously sent me five $100 bills in the mail.
That was a turning point for me. It changed me spiritually. I realized that God loves me, that He cares for me, and that He wants me to succeed. From that point forward, I have paid my tithing. But it hasn’t always been easy.

“There was a boy named Ike,” Grandpa began. “He took delight in pushing people around. He wasn’t much bigger than me, but he had a meanness that made him scary. If he had put notches in the hitching post in front of the mercantile store for every kid he beat up, he would have needed a second post for want of room!
“I didn’t know at the time that he was being mistreated at home. All I knew was that he had it in for me. Like you, I tried to stay clear of him. But the harder I tried, the more he singled me out.”
Grandpa reached into his overalls and pulled out a pocket watch. “Your great-grandpa gave this to me,” he said, “and I treasured it. Then one day Ike stole it from me at school. He told me about it that afternoon when he saw me in the mercantile buying a candy stick—which he also took and ate right in front of me.”
Melody’s eyes were big. “How did you get the watch back, Grandpa?”
“Ike said that he had left it in the hills, just inside an abandoned mine called Yellow Spur. He said that he was curious to see if I wanted it badly enough to go up there after it. What he didn’t tell me was that at night the place crawled with scorpions.”
Melody grew tense as Grandpa continued. “I didn’t want to tell your great-grandpa about the missing watch—he had prized it so. Besides, I often hiked in the hills. But never after dark. Anyway, to make a long story short, I found the watch just inside the mine. It was right at my feet—along with a dozen scorpions! I didn’t know yet that Ike was hiding on a rock just outside and above the cave. I guess he was going to wait for me to get stung by one of those scorpions, and then take the watch back.”
“What happened, Grandpa?”
“I heard a yell, and the next thing I knew, Ike came tumbling off the rock and landed at my feet. He had been stung by a scorpion himself. And before I could help him up, he was stung by another one.”
“You tried to help him? Weren’t you afraid of getting stung too?”
“I was indeed, Pumpkin, but I remembered what my father said about our deeds being recorded in heaven. Besides, I felt sorry for him. So I helped him down the hill to our place, and my folks doctored him up. He was pretty sick from those bites, but he was back on his feet by morning.”
Grandpa leaned forward, his eyes shining. “The next day after school it rained, and I was getting soaked clear through. To my surprise, I felt something warm being dropped over my head.” Grandpa touched the poncho he was wearing. “It was this poncho, Melody. And to my total disbelief, it was Ike who was placing it on me. He gave me his poncho, the one he always wore as if it was his most treasured possession. He didn’t say anything. He just stared at me awhile and then went on his way. I never saw him again. His family moved somewhere after that. But I’ll never forget the look he gave me. And to this day I don’t know if the wetness on his face was all rainwater.”

Sometimes miracles have helped people perform family history work. One miracle took place in 1971, when heavy rains poured upon the island of Fiji for nearly a week and furious winds bent the palm trees almost double. Ocean waves mixed with rain washed onto the island, and rocks, branches, and even rooftops floated down the flooded streets.

Molimau Tupa’i, the Church microfilmer in Fiji, became worried about the microfilming supplies he had left in his office. As he entered the office building where he worked, he saw that the floor was covered with water. He felt upset as he approached his office, fearing the films, books, and maps he had left on the floor were ruined. To his surprise, although everything looked wet and damaged, the water was actually flowing away from his supplies on the floor! His office was the only one in the building that still had electricity. For days afterward, all regular work on the floor stopped while cleaning crews fixed things. Brother Tupa’i’s work, however, continued as usual.

“Hi, Valerie!” Lucy said. She ran across the gym to meet her friend. She and Valerie got to play while their moms met at church.
Lucy found some crayons. She chose a pink one. But she didn’t have any paper to draw on. So she drew a pink line on a chair instead. The line looked bright and pretty on the metal. Lucy looked at Valerie and giggled.
Valerie chose a purple crayon. She drew a squiggly shape on another chair. Lucy and Valerie covered both chairs with bright marks.
Soon Mom came over and saw the scribbles. “Lucy!” Mom said. “You know we only color on paper!”
Lucy looked down at the ground. She knew that crayons were only for paper. But once she started coloring, she just sort of … forgot.
She looked at the chair now. A few weeks ago, her family had helped clean the church. She liked taking care of Jesus’s house. She felt sorry for making a mess today.
“Come on, girls. Let’s clean it up,” Mom said. She got some paper towels. They were wet and soapy.
Valerie and Lucy scrubbed the crayon marks. Slowly they started to come off.
“This is hard,” Lucy groaned.
Mom patted her back. “Yes, but we can do it!”
Together they scrubbed the chairs. Finally the metal was clean and shiny.
Lucy looked at the clean chairs and smiled. She was sorry she had made a mess. But she was happy that she could make things better.

“I’m going to take out my hearing aids and walk down the hall until I can’t hear you anymore. Let’s see how far I make it!” the Primary president exclaims, signaling me to start. I hit the opening chords of “The Church of Jesus Christ” (Children’s Songbook, 77) on the piano, and a chorus of young voices begins to sing.
When we’re not measuring how loud the Primary kids can sing, we’re singing songs at various speeds and incorporating actions. It’s my first time back in Primary since the day I turned 12, and I can’t believe how full of joy this place is.
A few years ago, I wouldn’t have guessed that playing Primary songs each week would be the main way I used my musical abilities. I’ve trained competitively on the piano and violin for most of my life and believed for a long time that I would always stay heavily involved in music.
But by my later college years, the reality of finishing a degree and holding down a full-time job set in. Rehearsing with orchestras for several hours a week and practicing diligently on my own fell to the bottom of my priority list. I still loved music and tried to sit down at a music stand often enough to retain most of my abilities, but I mostly stopped performing.
Recently, though, I’ve become OK with it. Using my talent for Primary is different from the competitions and stressful performances I used to work so hard for, but in some ways this is better for me. It’s one of the only times I’ve really felt like I’ve been able to use my talents for the good of others.
In the parable of the talents, the master expects his servants to do great things with the talents he gives them. While he doles out different amounts according to their abilities, each servant is ultimately expected to use the talents in a way that increases what they had before (see Matthew 25:15, 21).
I really took this parable to heart when I was young. Although the talents in the parable were sums of money, they can be likened to our personal skills and abilities, and I wanted to work hard to improve myself and multiply the talents that I had. So when life and responsibilities caught up with me as a college student, I often felt bad that I wasn’t doing more with all my music training. I wondered if I was like the fearful man who “hid [his] talent in the earth,” burying it for fear that he’d lose it (Matthew 25:25).
But as I started my new calling, I didn’t get that feeling at all. Although I wasn’t pushing myself the way I used to, I felt joy every time I sat down behind the piano in the corner of the Primary room because I knew I was serving the children.
When Jesus Christ described how the man with the five talents increased his talents, He said that the man “went and traded” (Matthew 25:16). In other words, the man had to share what he had with others in order to improve and increase.
I began to realize that spending my time playing the piano for many restless children every Sunday didn’t mean I wasn’t making the most of my abilities. Playing in Primary was a trade; I provided accompaniment, and I got to witness the wonderful testimonies of the children in my ward. The more time I spend in the corner of the Primary room, the more I truly feel that this opportunity is providing me with an “increase.”
I believe the calling was inspired. It came at a time in my life when I was wrestling with my faith and often felt overwhelmed with life. This calling was a reminder to strengthen my foundation in the gospel and to focus on the simplicity and beauty of eternal truths. I got to strengthen my testimony alongside the children I was serving, which is one of the real purposes of callings.
Callings can be hard; sometimes we’re called to do things that we don’t feel qualified for and that take up a lot of our time. Other times it’s the opposite—we might feel like our calling isn’t fully using our abilities and our efforts would be better directed somewhere else. But the Lord knows how to use our talents in a way that blesses not only the people we’re serving but also ourselves.
As I have learned from my own experience, any effort we make to serve the Lord brings an increase to our own lives. If we consecrate our time and talents to the Lord, He will always use them for our good.
Alison Wood is an editorial intern for the Church magazines. When she’s not reading or writing, she’s often practicing the violin or playing pickleball with her husband. She loves attending the temple and serving as the ward Primary pianist.

A few weeks ago I went to the hospital to give a blessing to a young man named Nick and his sister Michelle. Nick is a friend of mine and former home teaching companion, and his young life was threatened by diseased kidneys. Nick had not been well for a long time. Nick’s older sister Michelle had offered to give him a precious gift to preserve his life: she offered one of her own kidneys.
The operation was successfully performed, but still in question was whether or not Nick’s body would accept this priceless gift from Michelle. You see Michelle had given the gift, not knowing if it would be accepted. Fortunately it was accepted. In like manner, our Heavenly Father has given us many wonderful gifts, not knowing if they would be accepted. He has offered us his peace, his comfort, his love. All we have to do to accept his gifts is to be obedient and follow Him.