Gospel Story Finder

When Sabrina was a freshman, Eva gave her a Book of Mormon with her testimony written in the front. As Sabrina read, she and Eva would talk about it. But another friend saw her reading it and persuaded her not to finish her reading. It took two years of talking with her LDS friends and taking the missionary discussions before Sabrina was ready for baptism. She said, “I prayed one day and I got part of my answer. I felt I was doing the right thing. Everything seemed to be right. The more I prayed, the stronger I felt it was right.”
Sabrina’s baptism affected her life in many ways. “My dad was glad because he’s seen a big change in me.” When asked how she has changed, Sabrina is a little at a loss for words. Her friends chime in with a list. “She’s a lot happier, getting better grades, involved in a lot more things, more self-confident.” Then Sabrina added a few more. “I was kind of shy, but now I’m not as much. It has changed how I feel about my friends and my family, my brothers and sisters.”
Sabrina’s friends and family aren’t the only ones who have noticed a change for the better. Sabrina says that before she joined the Church, she barely made passing grades. She will be the first one of her brothers and sisters to finish high school and the first to go on to college. “My teachers and counselors have all seen this big change. They look back at records and say, ‘What happened? What did she do that is so different?’ I was nowhere, and now I set goals.”

Since 2008, a team of local volunteers have coordinated a Christmas Day luncheon and festivities to ensure no one spends the day alone. This event enjoys fellowship from many different people including new migrant families, international students, those who have left unsafe homes, people experiencing financial challenges, empty nesters and those separated from family due to COVID border closures and other reasons.
Sister Anouck Van Dyck has been the chairperson for the last three years and said this event is a collaboration between local volunteers, the City of Joondalup Council and various businesses to ensure everyone knows they are loved and appreciated on this very special day. The Perth Australia Mission helps with this by providing a setup and pack down service and are now part of the official entertainment program singing carols to invite the Spirit of Christ into everyone’s hearts.
Of their involvement, Perth Mission President Michael J. Stone commented: “What a great delight to be involved in such a deserving community project during this special Christmas season.
“Our missionaries were thrilled to be of service and truly felt the spirit of Christmas as they worked and sang on Christmas Day to those in the community that might otherwise have had a lonely Christmas.
“We are grateful for the opportunity our missionaries have had to give to the community through work and song on Christmas Day. In serving others, their spirits were lifted towards the Saviour—a wonderful day and blessing for all.”

One of the finest basketball players ever to compete for BYU Hawaii, Lucas Alves (class of 2010), now plays professional basketball in Brazil. When he arrived on campus in 2006, he knew very little English and very little about the Church. He tells about his resistance to the missionaries on campus and his relief when the bishop said he had told the missionaries to stop teaching him. The bishop said he already knew enough. It now must be his choice. “Finally,” he thought, “I get a break from the missionaries.” But then in his words he says:
"I kept feeling that I needed to kneel and pray. I needed to sincerely ask my Father in Heaven if this Church is true. There is not one part of my being that can deny the overwhelming spirit I felt the night I humbled myself and knelt down to whisper my heartfelt prayer. I knew that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was true. I had received my answer.
On November 21, 2009, I entered the waters of baptism. I was overwhelmed by the spirit and the support I received from so many loved ones. I felt sunshine in my soul. I look back and see how much the gospel has changed my life.… Through basketball, I was able to receive an education, become a member of the church, receive the holy priesthood, and get married in the temple to my wife, Vanessa. I learned that my life was so much more fulfilling with His hand near my side."

As my companions and I study our discussions we sometimes become discouraged and have a hard time memorizing. When this happens we often reach for the New Era and try to lose the feeling of discouragement. You know what? After reading only a few articles we are ready to work on our discussions again. The articles are very inspirational—and we are looking forward to the next issue so we can finish our discussions.
Elders Gary Brady and Kevin ElmerMinnesota-Wisconsin Mission

Nature provides some striking parallels. The late film producer Cecil B. DeMille shared this experience:
“One day as I was lying in a canoe, a big black beetle … climbed up to the canoe. I watched it idly for some time.
“Under the heat of the sun, the beetle proceeded to die. Then a strange thing happened. His glistening black shell cracked all the way down the back. Out of it came a shapeless mass, quickly transformed into beautifully, brilliantly-colored life. … There gradually unfolded iridescent wings from which the sunlight flashed a thousand colors. … The blue-green body took shape.
“Before my eyes had occurred a metamorphosis—the transformation of a hideous beetle into a gorgeous dragonfly. … I had witnessed … a miracle. Out of the mud had come a beautiful new life. And the thought came to me that if the Creator works such wonders with the lowliest of creatures, what may not be in store for the human spirit!”

It took about two weeks to regain the strength I needed to leave the hospital, and another seven months passed before my first treatment on an artificial kidney machine. But it was time well spent, for I had decided to really find out what the gospel of Jesus Christ was all about.

My first project was to read the Book of Mormon. For hours at a time I studied that tremendous book of scripture, gaining a testimony of its truthfulness and a love for the book itself. Now life took on new meaning, as if a light had been turned on and I could see and understand as never before. I was uplifted, enlightened, instructed, and spiritually quickened. Today I look back on this period as perhaps the most significant period of my mortal life.

I met my wife, Lani, when I was 16. I am now going to tell two stories about how we got to know each other. The first story has nothing to do with the topic of my talk. However, it makes the next story more poignant.
As a teenager, I felt socially awkward. I did not have many friends, and I never thought a girl would ever want to marry me. When I moved to a new high school, I did not know anyone. I met a few people participating in the school play. Lani was one of them. She was friendly and easy to talk to. I started to notice her in a few other classes. I was grateful to have a friend, boy or girl. A few weeks later we happened to be sitting near each other during lunch. In an awkward attempt to make conversation, I asked her if she had been invited to the Christmas dance. She responded “No.” In all my innocence, I replied, “Neither am I” and then left for my next class. Some of you may see the humor in that event. A few of you, mostly young men, may not see the humor. To you, I suggest you talk to your mother or sisters, and do it quickly.
That will give you some idea of what a wonderfully romantic catch I was. Lani and I dated for the next four years. It was a rocky relationship. (I cannot image why?) When I finally left on my mission, we were both glad for a break from each other. I suggested that Lani should date while I was gone. She did. Here is the point I want to emphasize: She did not pine away the next two years, waiting to see what direction her life would take. She propelled her “ship” forward, full speed ahead. She attended school year-round. When her sisters wanted to take an extended summer trip, she remained in school even though her mother suggested it would be “a once-in-a-lifetime” experience to see the Eastern United States and was willing to pay her expenses. Lani completed her course work and had a paid teaching internship by the time I returned from my mission. Three months later, we were married.
Lani and I have reflected on our life together and how we were able to achieve what we have. One of the key factors to our success was that she had a good-paying job with health insurance at the time we married. That impacted when we could have children and how we made it through the next four years of my college career. That happened because she kept moving forward even though the end result was unclear.

My mind immediately flashed back to our family’s experience 14 years ago. We had 6 children, ages 3 months to 10 years old. It was early August of 2010, and we were moving to Hong Kong. This move required months of planning for our family of eight. We even dressed our family in red shirts so if we lost a child we could point to the others to show people who to look for. Gratefully, we didn’t lose anyone, and our flight arrived in Hong Kong earlier than expected.

Because we were early, we had to wait for our landlord to bring our apartment key. After 28 hours of travel, we were exhausted and sprawled out in the apartment lobby with our 14 pieces of luggage, 10 carry-on bags, 3 strollers, and 6 children. Unfortunately, I was too tired to think of taking a photo, but you can imagine the concerned look on our new neighbors’ faces as they made their way out of the building to work and school that morning!

Despite jet lag, we stayed awake for as long as possible before collapsing early that evening. At 2 a.m. we were awakened by a T-8 level typhoon literally rattling our 16th floor apartment windows so violently that we truly thought they might shatter. When my husband entered the kitchen to get water and flipped on the light switch, cockroaches crawling on cabinets and countertops scattered. He confessed to me weeks later that the only coherent thought he had was, “What have I gotten my family into?!”

Though challenges were expected, there seemed to be a chasm between knowing it would be hard and living the hard. After a few weeks of adjusting to a new school and activities, public transportation with multiple strollers, a few homesick children, frequently translating directions into Cantonese, and even figuring out where to buy diapers, I was exhausted in every conceivable way. I told my husband that I needed to be in the temple. My spirit needed oxygen, and I knew being with the Savior in the temple would strengthen me.

With our three-month-old baby, we headed out for what became an almost two-hour journey to the temple, via taxi, trains, and a bit of walk, on a hot, humid Friday night, in August, in rush-hour traffic, in a city of seven million people.

It was loud and noisy outside, but as soon as we walked through those doors, I wanted to cry. I was home. Even though we were on the other side of the world, we were truly home.

My husband stayed with our baby in the temple foyer while I took the elevator up to participate in initiatory ordinances. Never in my life had I listened so intently to the words of the ordinance and promised blessings. Those words came to life. The Lord truly manifested Himself to me that night in the Hong Kong temple. Similar to what my young sister missionary friend already knows, here is what He taught me: Through my endowment, the Lord had already blessed me with literal power to do everything He needed me to do, and He would be with me on the journey. I felt tangible renewed strength.

The other student President Holland told about that day was Sauan Sukhan. He was not as old as Lyle McDonald; he was only thirty-five years old. But that same day he received
A Ph.D. degree in sociology. There is nothing very startling about that except he . . . has a personal story of valor and triumph in which private or public challenges have been overcome.
Sauan was born in a remote village in Thailand some 350 miles northeast of Bangkok. To say his parents, and indeed his entire village, were poor is to pathetically understate the case. Their home was a shelter of bamboo and grass. At three years of age Sauan was working full days tending water buffalo and cultivating rice paddies. To this very day there is still no such luxury in that village as running water or electricity. The closest hospital is a hundred miles away—four days by foot and ox cart, the only available means of transportation. It is something of a miracle that Sauan survived the myriad childhood diseases so common to that country. Eight of his fourteen brothers and sisters did not, and he watched his devout Buddhist parents bury them one by one.
At his village school there were no textbooks, no library, not paper or pencils. Two teachers helped 400 children practice their lessons on slate or dry clay. Only four years of even that rudimentary education were available in their small village. But like . . . you, Sauan wanted knowledge—as much as he could get. So from grades five through ten he walked fifteen miles to a school in the neighboring village. That was, he says, three hours each way in the dry season, but considerably more than that when it rained. Later, his parents spent virtually all of their savings (which, as you might guess, wasn’t much for a family whose income bought Sauan a secondhand bicycle) so that his quest for an education might not be so burdensome.
They gave him everything they had; when that was gone, they gave him encouragement.
But after the tenth grade there was no money for him to go to the city. So, like untold generations of his ancestors before him, he returned to the water buffalo and rice paddies that would forever mark the dimensions of his very narrow world. But even in the remote reaches of rural Thailand the Spirit of the Lord bears sway. In a story too long to tell here, Sauan did, with the encouragement of these destitute but faithful Buddhist parents, get to the city briefly. And in the most providential of moments, he opened his door one day to two young Americans who had short hair, wore white shirts, and spoke impeccable Thai. The rest is history—sweet history.

“Today we are going to learn a new song,” Sister Reid announced. “It’s called ‘Baptism.’ Everyone close your eyes and listen to the music.”
Sadie closed her eyes and relaxed in her chair. The pianist started playing a melody that sounded soft and beautiful, like flowing water. Then Sister Reid started singing: “Jesus came to John the Baptist, in Judea long ago, and was baptized by immersion in the River Jordan’s flow.”
Sadie felt a tear slide down her cheek. She tried to wipe it away before Mom could see, but it was too late. Mom was the Primary president, and she always saw everything. She smiled sadly at Sadie. She knew why Sadie was crying.
After church Sadie’s little sister, Julie, hummed the baptism song the whole ride home. But Sadie stayed quiet.
“Do you want to color with me?” Julie asked when they got home.
Sadie shook my head. “Maybe later. I’ve got to do something first.”
Sadie found Dad in the living room, reading a book in his favorite chair. He liked to read while Julie, Mom, and Sadie went to church.
Sadie took a deep breath. “Dad?” she said. “Can I get baptized?”
Dad closed the book and gently pulled Sadie close.
“Oh, Sadie. You know we’ve talked about this. My answer is still no.”
“But I really want to!” said Sadie. “I’m already eight, and I’ve thought about it a lot. I know the Church is true. I really want to get baptized.”
Dad shook his head. “I love you, and I want what’s best for you.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “But I still think you’re too young to make such a big decision.”
Sadie’s shoulders slumped. “OK.”
She turned and slowly walked to her room. She knelt by her bed and prayed harder than she ever had before. “Heavenly Father, I really, really want to be baptized. Please help Dad understand.”
At first nothing happened, but she stayed on her knees. The baptism song from Primary ran through her mind. After a while, she didn’t feel so sad. Instead she felt peaceful inside. She started thinking about all the things she could still do, even though she couldn’t be baptized yet.
She could keep praying and keep going to Primary. She could be a good example to Julie, and maybe she could even ask Mom to fast for her next week.
The peaceful feeling stayed with her as she headed down to dinner. She didn’t know when, but one day she would be baptized. And it would be worth the wait.
And later Sadie got to be baptized!

One Sunday during our teachers quorum meeting, we had a lesson on patriarchal blessings. I didn’t know a lot about patriarchal blessings, so I found the lesson very interesting. The next week my aunt and uncle who recently became active in the Church received their patriarchal blessings. Then that Monday I got my copy of the New Era in the mail. I saw that one of the articles in it was titled “When Should I Get My Patriarchal Blessing?” [Aug. 2009], and that is when I started to wonder if my Heavenly Father was trying to tell me to get my patriarchal blessing. I prayed about it and received my answer. Soon afterward I received my patriarchal blessing.

On April 30, 1844, the ship Timoleon came in sight of the small Pacific island of Tubuai, 640 kilometers (400 miles) south of Tahiti. Canoes filled with men paddled out to greet the passengers. When they met Elders Addison Pratt, Noah Rogers, and Benjamin Grouard, the first Latter-day Saint missionaries to arrive in the region, they greeted them happily. For nearly 50 years, Tubuaians had received Christian missionaries—most from the London Missionary Society—and embraced Christian teachings. Previous missionaries had occasionally visited the island’s two villages, Mahu and Mataura, but they usually stayed only a short time. Telii,1 a local woman from Mataura, was also excited when she learned that new gospel teachers were on the island. The island’s kings and chiefs attempted to convince one of the missionaries to remain as their teacher, and Telii and her husband, Nabota, offered their home as a place for the missionaries to stay.2
The missionaries initially declined these invitations. The people, anxious to have them stay, persisted. “I took the subject into prayerful consideration,” Elder Pratt said, “and was soon convinced that should I leave this island, I should be running away from duty.”3 Elders Grouard and Rogers sailed on to Tahiti while Elder Pratt remained and accepted the invitation to live with Telii and Nabota. The couple immediately began helping Elder Pratt study the local language, and they learned the gospel as visitors asked Elder Pratt to interpret scripture, offer spiritual guidance, and provide healing blessings.4 As Telii and Nabota listened to Elder Pratt preach, the fire of a growing testimony was kindled in their hearts. In late July 1844, Telii and Nabota were the first natives of Tubuai to be baptized. Many others soon followed.
As Latter-day Saint missionaries continued to visit Tubuai over the next several years, Telii and Nabota became a source of strength and support to them and the island’s growing Latter-day Saint community. Telii became a friend, teacher, and leader to the missionaries and local members.
Telii, Nabota, and Elder Pratt developed a deep and loyal friendship. “The native family with whom I live are much attached to me; where I go, they go, and where I stay, they stay,” Elder Pratt wrote to his wife, Louisa.5 With small but growing groups of converts in each village, Elder Pratt soon began alternating locations, spending a week in each place. While in Mataura, he lived with Telii and Nabota. When he went to Mahu, they traveled with him and stayed with Telii’s relatives there.6 In addition to being the first local converts Elder Pratt baptized, Telii and Nabota were frequently his most ardent defenders, sharing with others the insights they had gleaned from the many sermons and conversations they had heard.7
Early in 1846, Elder Pratt announced that he would be going to Anaa, an atoll 780 kilometers (490 miles) northwest of Tubuai, to assist Elder Grouard, who was enjoying incredible success there. Telii and Nabota insisted on accompanying him. When they arrived in Anaa, they found more than 600 converts in five branches. As Elder Pratt fell into administrative duties in the branches, Telii and Nabota traveled with him, preaching the gospel, visiting the people to attend to their needs, and bringing the sick to Elder Pratt to be blessed.8
Telii helped spread the gospel by translating Latter-day Saint hymns and scriptures and setting them to himene, a singing style common in the region. Many evenings, Telii gathered large groups together at dusk to sing these songs, which often lasted until late into the night. By singing Telii’s songs, many of the local people learned gospel principles and cemented passages of scripture in their minds and hearts.9

Before I was born, my family had four boys. My mom and dad thought their family was complete. Then my mom felt the Spirit tell her they needed to adopt a daughter.

My family had to wait almost two years before they could adopt a baby! So my grandparents, parents, and brothers were all very excited to meet me at the airport. Six months after I arrived, my family took me to the Spokane Washington Temple, where I was sealed to them forever. The gospel teaches me that I am a child of God. He knows me and loves me. Because of the temple, I can receive every blessing that my brothers, who were born to my parents, can receive. I can be part of an eternal family!

When I was eight years old our family moved to Salt Lake City from California. We lived on a new street where there were just a few houses. The Hathaway family, who had children near my age, lived in the house nearest to us.
One day the Hathaway children invited me to go to Primary with them, and Mother said I could.
Mrs. Hathaway wanted to ask Mother the “golden questions.” She decided to fast and pray and ask the Lord to help her know the right words to say to Mother. But when she came over to our house, the words just wouldn’t come out, and she went home very disappointed.
Nevertheless the Spirit began to work on Mother and a day or two later she asked Mrs. Hathaway what I was learning in Primary. Afterward she said she would like to know more about the Mormon Church. Mrs. Hathaway was happy to answer all of Mother’s questions and asked if our family would listen to the missionary lessons.
After listening to the missionaries, Mother and I were soon baptized.

I enjoy reading Q&A. A previous edition had a question about cheating (Sept. 2001). I was faced with a similar problem, where one of my classmates wanted to copy my test answers. So I was reading these young people’s responses to the question, and I took some of their advice. I prayed about it, and then I spoke to my friend, telling her that I would not break the commandment but instead I would help her as best as I could. Your magazine has not only helped me but also a lot of teenagers who were faced with the same problem.Oddett AllicockWest Coast Demerara, Guyana

One of the best ways to make friends is to invite them over, right? That’s what the Montreal Ward of the Montreal Quebec Mount Royal Stake did. Their new chapel created so much interest in the surrounding neighborhood of La Salle that ward leaders decided to open it up for tours.

And when they did, the youth of this ward played a major role. The Latter-day Saint teens served refreshments, directed parking, and greeted guests at the door.

“It was a good experience because it gave other people in the community an opportunity to know more about us—what we believe and what we do,” explains Melissa Poirier, 15. More than 300 non-Latter-day Saints toured the building.

As we left Anchorage with the 24-foot river boat in tow and the bed of the pickup truck full of camping gear and food, the heavy rain clouds common during Alaskan summers were gathering over the mountains. It was July 1974. I had just met my 14-year-old son Craig and one of my university colleagues, Dr. Robert Whitmore, at the airport, and now we were headed for the Yukon River to undertake another research project.
We would head down the mighty Yukon, beginning at the point where the Trans-Alaska pipeline crosses this wild and magnificent river. In 1970 and 1972 I had surveyed parts of this region by helicopter in order to gather information on the falcons prior to the pipeline construction. Other portions of the Yukon River had been explored, but this part of the river was virtually unknown as far as the status of falcons was concerned. We would now have a chance to complete a check of the region by boat.
The salmon had just started their run upriver from the sea; they would continue their journey another 800 miles or so before spawning and dying. The July days were normally calm and sunny while the nights were crisp and cool. It is a lonely but satisfying feeling to stand around a crackling fire on a northern midnight, when it is still light enough to read a newspaper, and listen to the distant loons uttering their frenzied and maniacal calls. Sometimes, however, we were forced to remain in our tents for most of the day while the blustering winds whistled up the river and across the gravel bars where we camped. At one of our camps we found a small creek unnamed on the geological survey map, and we called it Molly Creek after my colleague’s baby daughter.
As the next three weeks passed, we visited cliff after cliff where there was evidence that falcons had at one time nested. Yet what we saw tore at our emotions. Based on the nature of the habitat, our previous years of knowledge from other portions of the Yukon River in Alaska and the Yukon Territory, and scattered information from other reports, we judged that about a dozen pairs of falcons should have been nesting on this stretch of river. Almost surely there were that many a decade ago. Now just half that number were present, and of those only two pairs had young. Some pairs still occupied their breeding places in silent splendor—but they were not producing young. Some pairs produced eggs so fragile they broke before hatching; others were not even producing eggs.
One nest we knew about had been continuously occupied for several decades. However, as we landed the boat beneath the nesting cliff, a sudden tightness gripped me, for a strange quietness seemed to surround us. Only the lap of water on the shore, the whisper of a light breeze through the ragged spruce trees, and the occasional twitter of some small bird along the river’s beach could be heard. Fearful of what we might find, we raced up the hill, scrambling over the broken talus beneath the cliff, and climbed up onto the nesting ledge. Except for a few old feathers, it was empty and lifeless. As we sat overlooking the great river flowing noiselessly beneath us and the wide expanse of the forest beyond, the outlines of two falcons came into view. Their high call, usually evoking in us a sense of the wild and the free, now seemed to carry with it a feeling of mournfulness and melancholy. They were giving the distinctive and peculiar wailing call that one soon learns to associate with deserted nests. We watched now as the two birds drifted slowly off into the arctic summer’s twilight, and all was silent again. The gallant, vigorous, and noisy defense of the nesting cliff, typical of the peregrine as it makes swoop after swoop at the intruder, was not here. Cold stones alone remained along the ledge where once there had been birth and life, low wails where once there had been loud calls of affection and anger, and only ghostlike shadows glided off into the sunset.

One such product of the early Brigham Young Academy was James E. Talmage. He was recognized quickly for his great intellect, spiritual strength, and outstanding character. As he concluded his studies at BYA, he became a member of the faculty and then left for a few years to obtain his graduate education at Lehigh University and Johns Hopkins University before returning to BYA and the Church Educational System. Of course his crowning appointment was to serve as a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, and his many contributions are widely known and appreciated throughout the Church. Jesus the Christ and The Articles of Faithare two books that continue to be classics in Church literature and deserve our careful and regular study in our libraries of “best books” (D&C 88:118).

Two accounts of his character (perhaps showing that he also was a character) are found in The Talmage Story, the biography written by his son, John. These accounts have been favorites of mine for many years, and some of you are likely familiar with these experiences. I believe they deserve retelling because they not only reveal much about Brother Talmage but also give significant insights into important dimensions of character.

Let me go directly to the experiences as the younger Brother Talmage recorded them. Both occurred when James Talmage was a mature man. The first was shortly after he left the Church Educational System and became president of the University of Utah at the encouragement of the First Presidency. He had obtained a bicycle, which was then the newest fad in transportation during the 1890s. These are his son’s words:

James acquired one of the new machines, not as a hobby or physical conditioner but as a practical means of transportation. . . .

Some time after James had achieved reasonable proficiency in handling his machine on standard roads, he showed up at the front door one evening a full hour late for dinner and scarcely recognizable.

May [his wife] nearly went into shock, for her husband was a frightening sight. Battered, bruised, and bleeding profusely, clothes torn in a dozen places and covered with dust and mud, James looked as though he had been caught in a riot, or at least a fight of unusual violence. Neither, it developed, had been the case.

Half a block from the Talmage home a single-plank footbridge crossed the ditch of running water that separated the street from the footpath. Until now, James had dismounted when he reached this point in a homeward journey, and crossed the narrow bridge on foot. Today, he had decided that he had reached the point in his development as a cyclist where he should no longer resort to this prudent maneuver, but rather ride over the bridge in the manner of an accomplished veteran of the two-wheeler.

Having so decided, James approached the bridge resolutely, confident that he would negotiate the tricky passage in a manner to be proud of and to impress neighbors, if any should chance to be watching, with his skill and casual daring. He turned sharply from the road toward the bridge with scarcely any diminution of speed. The result was spectacular, and observers, if any there were, must indeed have been impressed, but in a very different way from that intended. The professor’s bicycle went onto the plank at an oblique angle and quickly slid off the side, throwing its rider heavily into the ditch bank.

Dazed, bruised, bleeding, and humiliated, Dr. Talmage was not convinced that the difficult maneuver was beyond his skill. Rather, he was stubbornly determined to prove that he could and would master the difficulty.

For the next hour, [James] might have been observed trundling his bicycle fifty yards or so down the road from the bridge, mounting and riding furiously toward the plank crossing, turning onto it with grim-lipped determination—and plunging off it in a spectacular and bone-shaking crash into the rough ditch bank. Uncounted times this startling performance was repeated, but in the end mind triumphed over matter, willpower over faltering reflexes, and the crossing was successfully made. Not just once, but enough times in succession to convince James that he was capable of performing the feat without mishap at any time he might desire to do so. From then on, he never again dismounted to cross the bridge, albeit he never made the crossing without experiencing deep-seated qualms which he kept carefully concealed from any who might be watching. [John R. Talmage,The Talmage Story: Life of James E. Talmage—Educator, Scientist, Apostle (Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1972), 138–40]

This is an interesting insight into a man who believed something likely trivial to most people was not only worth doing but worth doing well. This same unfailing determination was demonstrated much later in a more widely recognized sense when Brother Talmage literally lived in the Salt Lake Temple as he wrote his famous and beloved book Jesus the Christ at the direction of the First Presidency. His absolute commitment to completing a task he determined to be important, whatever anyone else might think, served him very well throughout his life and, in turn, blessed and continues to bless countless others.

Some time ago I read the following Associated Press dispatch in the newspaper. An elderly man had shared, from early manhood, a one-room cabin near Canisteo, New York, with his brother. At the funeral for his brother, he disclosed that following a quarrel in their young manhood, they had divided the room in half with a chalk line, and neither had crossed the line or spoken a word to the other since that day—62 years before. What a powerful and destructive hidden wedge.

My children’s births were not easy. My son arrived a month early and had to be untangled from the umbilical cord. I was seven months along with my baby girl when our doctor said we needed to find a place with an intensive care unit for newborns and adults to immediately intervene for both of us. So, there was no time to feel not ready or busy, it was a matter of survival and bringing life into this world.

We all encounter our own struggles. I can’t imagine the fear and uncertainty that must have been felt by Mary when carrying the divine Christ child or by Eve in choosing to have progeny over remaining in the Garden of Eden.

But the choices we make define us.
The choices we make mold our character and shape our earthly experience and our spiritual growth.

Let the Savior’s birth and what His parents went through allow you to fight your fights knowing that Christ has your back.