Gospel Story Finder

What if we had feared the criticism? I remember receiving a telephone call from a missionary who was obviously a little fearful. He said, “President, what shall we do? We have a man from the local church who follows us wherever we go and tries to stop us knocking on the doors.” The young missionary was surprised at my response: “Good,” I said. “You will have much success there, for the adversary is getting worried.”

As life supplies its store of tribulation we need the consolation that comes with knowing that God is good and that he is near, that he understands, and that he loves us and will help us and strengthen us for the realities of a world where sin and affliction exist. And while I’m talking about principles this morning, I am not really thinking in the abstract, but I’m thinking of many noble souls who have met difficulties with courage, like my mother and many others who had little to rely upon—who had little but ingenuity and will and courage and faith. I’m thinking too of a more recent scene—a beautiful young face whiter than the hospital sheet upon which she lay, her sorrowing parents nearby grieving, as a relentless disease consumed her life. Comfort came to them in the quiet knowledge of the nearness of a Savior who himself had not been spared the most keen and intense suffering, who himself had drunk of the bitter cup.
From this source—from God and Christ—wisdom and strength can be found that will make endurance possible, and relationships generous and helpful, that will lead to abundancy of life and to everlasting life. God will “temper the wind to the shorn lamb,” and help us to endure all things and to continue to maintain integrity in the face of the siren song of invitation to “curse God and die”—die spiritually, die as to things pertaining to righteousness, die to hope and holiness and faith in a future where there is no corruption and no pain.
Christ came that men might have life abundant and life eternal, and he declared that “this is life eternal, that they might know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent.” (John 17:3.)
And that knowledge, I testify, is the most important treasure one can possess or seek. From Hosea comes the word of the Lord:
“The Lord hath a controversy with the inhabitants of the land, because there is no truth, nor mercy, nor knowledge of God in the land. …
“For I desired mercy, and not sacrifice; and the knowledge of God more than burnt offerings.” (Hosea 4:1; 6:6.)
Soon thereafter the Lord said through Jeremiah:
“Let not the wise man glory in his wisdom, neither let the mighty man glory in his might, let not the rich man glory in his riches:
“But let him that glorieth glory in this, that he understandeth and knoweth me, that I am the Lord which exercise loving kindness, judgement, and righteousness, in the earth: for in these things I delight, saith the Lord.” (Jer. 9:23–24.)
All the prophets taught this truth about God, and their prime purpose was not to argue or try to prove the existence of God but to be his witnesses, to testify that he lives and to make his will known among men. Christ revealed the Father in his life and teachings and parables. Through his Son the Father was not only bringing salvation and making eternal life possible for all men, but was offering the ultimate opportunity for men to know God himself.
This, we declare and testify, is a supreme blessing, for to “know the love of Christ which passeth knowledge” and thus to “be filled with all the fulness of God” (Eph. 3:19) is the source of the greatest comfort and consolation in this world, and the greatest motivating power for good. How do we gain this indispensable knowledge? The “works of the Lord, and the mysteries of his kingdom” can only “be understood by the power of the Holy Spirit, which God bestows on those who love him, and purify themselves before him; To whom he grants this privilege of seeing and knowing for themselves.” (D&C 76:114, 117.)
As a guest in the home of a choice young family only a few days ago, I was invited to offer prayer as we knelt together at the day’s beginning. Loving parents, who knew of my experience with little girls’ prayers, suggested that their three-year-old would like to pray first, as she regularly insists on doing. The tenderness of the moment increased as a six-year-old brother undertook to help her when she faltered.
The purity and openness of little children in their relationship with the Lord points the way for all of us. If we would seek the Lord, we must put off the “natural man” and become “as a child, submissive, meek, humble, patient, full of love, willing to submit to all things which the Lord seeth fit to inflict upon [us], even as a child doth submit to his father.” (Mosiah 3:19.)
It is written:
“None shall be found blameless before God, except it be little children, only through repentance and faith on the name of the Lord God Omnipotent.” (Mosiah 3:21.) What, then, is our course?
“Verily, thus saith the Lord: It shall come to pass that every soul who forsaketh his sins and cometh unto me, and calleth on my name, and obeyeth my voice, and keepeth my commandments, shall see my face and know that I am.” (D&C 93:1.)
“They did fast and pray oft, and did wax stronger and stronger in their humility, and firmer and firmer in the faith of Christ, unto the filling their souls with joy and consolation, yea, even to the purifying and the sanctification of their hearts, which sanctification cometh because of their yielding their hearts unto God.” (Hel. 3:35.)
By the revelations of his mind and will through the Holy Spirit, the Lord will give us understanding and knowledge. But we must qualify for the blessing. As we learn to love him, to purify ourselves before him, to yield our hearts to him, and to walk in the light of his Spirit, we can become again like a child and know him. He “waits,” Isaiah wrote, “that he may be gracious” unto us, and is “exalted, that he may have mercy” upon us. The Lord delights to bless us with his love.
We know that the Lord needs instruments of his love. He needs a Simon Peter to teach Cornelius, an Ananias to bless Paul, a humble bishop to counsel his people, a home teacher to go into the homes of the Saints, a father and mother to be parents to their children.
But it is also the privilege of every child of God to seek and know for himself the comforting personal assurance that comes with confidence in the wisdom and character of a beloved Heavenly Father.
There is an example that expresses my meaning well. Some years ago a young lady missionary shared with me some of the circumstances of her call. Her humble father, a farmer, had willingly sacrificed much for the Lord and his kingdom. He was already sustaining two sons on missions when he talked with his daughter one day about her unexpressed desires to be a missionary and explained to her how the Lord had helped him to prepare to help her. He had gone to the fields to talk with the Lord, to tell him that he had no more material possessions to sell or sacrifice or to use as collateral for borrowing. He needed to know how he could help his daughter go on a mission. The Lord, he said, told him to plant onions. He thought he had misunderstood. Onions would not likely grow in this climate, others were not growing onions, he had no experience growing onions. After wrestling with the Lord for a time, he was again told to plant onions. So he borrowed money, purchased seeds, planted and nurtured and prayed. The elements were tempered, the onion crop prospered. He sold the crop, paid his debts to the bank and the government and the Lord, and put the remainder in an account under her name—enough to supply her wants on a mission.
I will not forget the story or the moment or the tears in her eyes or the sound of her voice or the feeling in me as she said, “Brother Hanks, I don’t have any trouble believing in a loving Heavenly Father who knows my needs and will help me according to his wisdom if I am humble enough. I have a father just like that.”
There is, of course, much more to be said. The solutions that we wish and pray for do not always come about. The power that remade Paul, that poured in love and washed out hostility and hate, did not save him from the great travails, from Nero’s dungeon or a martyr’s death. Christ lived in him, he said, he had found the peace of God that passed all comprehension. Nothing, not tribulation, distress, persecution, famine, nakedness, peril, sword, death, life, angels, principalities, powers, things present, things to come, height, depth, nor any other creature, could separate him from the love of Christ—the love of God which is in Christ Jesus, our Lord. Christ died on a cross, and won his victory; his disciples and followers also have been subject to the brute forces and foibles of this world, yet through enduring faith they have shared and will share in that victory.
Like Habakkuk of old, we may in our anguish feel that we could bear anything if we could only understand the divine purpose in what is happening. The ancient prophet learned that the righteous live by faith and that faith is not an easy solution to life’s problems. Faith is confidence and trust in the character and purposes of God.
Habakkuk declared:
“Although the fig tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vine; the labour of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall yield no meat; the flock shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stalls.
“Yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation.
“The Lord God is my strength, and he will make my feet … to walk upon mine high places.” (Hab. 3:17–19.)
Our religion is “not weight, it is wings.” It can carry us through the dark times, the bitter cup. It will be with us in the fiery furnace and the deep pit. It will accompany us to the hospital room and to the place of bereavement. It can guarantee us the presence of a Captain on the rough voyage. It is, in short, not the path to easy disposition of problems, but the comforting assurance of the eternal light, by which we may see, and the eternal warmth, which we may feel. “The Lord is good: Blessed is the man that trusteth in him.” (Ps. 34:8.) In the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

At the conclusion of his mission, Chris decided that he could not return to the atmosphere at his former college. He thought that was also a decision to give up football, and he was willing to do it.
Just as Chris was completing his mission, his mission president contacted BYU about Chris. At first, becoming a BYU football team member didn’t seem like a possibility, but he was invited to try out. He received a full-ride scholarship but was redshirted a year. Once Chris thought sitting out a year would be horrible, but now it was a blessing. He was able to concentrate on his major, a difficult one, in manufacturing engineering and technology. He feels that the Lord has guided his life because at BYU he has had the opportunity to continue missionary work as a ward mission leader. Football will fall by the wayside. That’s fine with Chris. It no longer has his heart.

Five years ago, my husband and I decided to start a YouTube channel, where we began to genuinely share the way we live as members of the Church of Jesus Christ. Our idea was to talk about our beliefs through our lifestyle.
We have had the great blessing of receiving inspiring messages from several of our followers telling us about going to church for the first time or even getting baptized! These messages have filled us with so much joy.
We are very grateful for the enriching experiences that social networks have offered us in spreading the message of the restored gospel just by sharing our lives. But while social media can generate incredible experiences, help us develop meaningful relationships, and allow us to share our testimony of the gospel, it can also give us experiences that weaken us spiritually, lead us to judge others in unrighteous ways, and lose sight of who we truly are.

“Is this seat taken?” I asked.
The old lady next to the window reached over and unenthusiastically moved the bag to the floor by her feet. I sat down, made myself comfortable, and settled in for the three-hour trip to Newcastle. I was already starting to get anxious. It was like returning home again.
The clickity-clack of the wheels kept me company as I relaxed in the otherwise quiet compartment and watched the green hills of Scotland pass by. I wished that the old lady at my right would change seats with me so that I could see out better. She kept nodding off and then jerking awake, so I was sure that she wasn’t enjoying the view. But then she hadn’t been too pleased about having to move her shopping bag, and I was sure she would be less happy about moving herself.
I looked around at the other passengers. As usual in Europe, the car was divided into compartments seating six people each. I was in the middle seat, facing forward; to my right was the old lady. The man on my left was in his 30s. He was reading a magazine. Judging from the few words that had passed between them at the start of the trip, I assumed that the woman across from him was his wife. She was also reading.
“A typical middle-class English couple heading home after a holiday in Scotland,” I thought to myself.
The elderly gentleman directly opposite me was the picture of a Victorian adventurer. He was tall and thin with a mustache, the kind of man who might wear formal dinner attire in the middle of the jungle. Very British! Next to him, by the window, was a thin, middle-aged woman in a blue dress.
“The governess type,” I decided.
Now, every country has its own travel etiquette and in Britain the rule seems to be, “Never fraternize with fellow travelers.” It’s not that the British are unfriendly. In fact, they are very warm. It’s just that on such a crowded island, everyone has learned to guard his own independence and to respect the privacy of others. As a foreigner, I could have initiated a discussion. The British accept “Yanks” as being outgoing. But I was tired after touring Edinburgh all morning and didn’t really feel like striking up a conversation just to talk.
No one spoke for nearly an hour. Then the woman in blue looked straight at me and said, in a distinct Scottish accent, “You’re an American, aren’t you?”
I was somewhat startled by this breach of the usual rule. That I was an American was obvious, so I took this to be a conversation opener rather than a question. Anyway, I was getting bored, so why not talk for a while?
“Yes, I am,” I answered. “I’m over here on vacation.”
The woman seemed very friendly. We chatted about the countryside, the marvelous weather we were having, and the crowded condition of the train. I told her about my travels during the summer, and she, in turn, told me of her planned visit to London and the relatives who would meet her there.
After a while the old gentleman interjected a few remarks, and my suspicions about his past were confirmed when he started telling us about monsoons in India and how bad the flies are in Kenya in the summer. It was all very friendly and very polite.
Then, out of nowhere, the woman in blue said, “You know, we have a lot of Americans over here as Mormon missionaries. And right bonnie lads they are too.”
The couple on my left looked at her, then at each other, and then went back to their reading. The old lady at my right, awakened by all the talk, let out with a verbal “Humph!” which I took as an indication of disapproval.
The woman in blue was not deterred. She went on to say that two missionaries lived with a friend of hers, a widow, and she told how they always assisted around the house whenever they could. “They’re wonderful lads; I don’t care what anyone says!”
The old gentleman broke in: “I met two of them on the ferry between Kowloon and Victoria on my last trip. I was quite impressed with them, especially when I learned that they spoke fluent Cantonese. Why, I know British administrators who have lived in Hong Kong for years and can’t speak the language as well as those boys.”
The two of them went on for a number of minutes about what “fine people Mormons are,” while I sat there with a smile on my face. After all, unsolicited praise is not very common in Britain. Finally I announced, “I’m glad to hear all that because I’m a Mormon.”
Instantly five pairs of eyes were staring at me.
“I know I should have spoken up sooner,” I confessed, “but I wanted to know what you would say. I’m glad to hear that you have such a high regard for us because a lot of people over here don’t really give us a chance and we have a lot to offer.”
I then told them about my mission in Northern England two years earlier and that the main purpose of this trip to Newcastle was to visit Church members there, especially those whom I had baptized. As I talked, I thought back to my mission. When we had gone tracting, it often seemed as though no one wanted to listen to what we had to say. How different this was. The old gentleman and the woman in blue were full of questions and eager to learn. They asked me about all kinds of Church-related things, and with every response they seemed more impressed with the Church and especially with its growth in England. They were becoming as enthused as I was, and we barely noticed as we passed the English border town of Berwick and sped southward along the North Sea coast.
I have always enjoyed a good religious discussion, and this one was getting better all the time. But I wished, somehow, that everyone might join in. After all, three people hadn’t said anything, though they were obviously listening. How could I include them? Suddenly a breakthrough.
The man on my left put his magazine down, waited for an opening in the conversation, and asked, “Is it true that Mormons don’t drink tea? How can anyone in England join a church that forbids tea?”
Another “Humph!” from the old lady.
I explained the Word of Wisdom and related a number of anecdotes about English people I had known and their successful efforts to give up tea. In fact, the matter of health received a complete going over, with the four of them finally agreeing that Mormons were among the most healthy people in Britain.
Then something very unusual began to happen. The couple by the door unpacked their lunch, and the wife started to make sandwiches for everyone. The woman in blue passed around a bag full of apples, and the old gentleman donated a package of biscuits. Soon we were having one big picnic and everyone was having a great time. I would not have believed it could happen. The British generally do not converse, much less share, with total strangers, yet somehow the spirit of the gospel had brought us together. Only the old lady by the window did not join in.
As a missionary I had learned a lot about tradition and prejudice and I had a fair idea what was bothering the old lady. The stories of how young English girls were captured and sent off to Salt Lake sound absurd, but I knew that a lot of old people still believed them. So I decided to tackle the problem head on.
“A lot of people don’t seem to understand us very well. Some people even think that we still practice polygamy,” I said, “which we don’t.”
Yet another “Humph!” from the corner.
Then I went on for close to an hour giving an outline of Church history and doctrine, with emphasis on modern revelation as the only means of knowing religious truth. I don’t think that I dumped the apple cart, but I did present the better part of the first and second missionary discussions. Everyone listened attentively. Past Alnwich and Morpeth I continued my discourse, hoping to plant enough seeds so that each one might someday seek more knowledge about the Church. I talked as fast as I could, hoping to say something that would spark some interest in each person.
As the train slowed at Longbenton, I started pointing out streets I had tracted and members’ homes that were near the tracks. My companions seemed as happy about my return to this lovely old city as was, and although I was glad finally to reach my destination I was also sorry that the trip was ending.
I thought to myself, “At least I’ve made four friends for the Church even if I lost one. If only I had another hour, perhaps I could win her over too.”
The train gave a little rock backward as we came to a stop in Newcastle station. I put my suitcase out in the passageway and then returned to shake hands, first with the couple, then the old gentleman, and finally the woman in blue. I thanked them for listening to me for so long and extracted a promise from all four that when missionaries knocked on their doors, they would listen.
Lastly, I held out my hand to the old lady. She looked at it and then up at me, then reached out and took my hand.
“I was brought up to hate Mormons,” she said, “and I’ve never had nought good to say ’bout them. But in two hours I’ve realized that everything I thought I knew was wrong. I shan’t forget this trip.”
There were tears in my eyes as I walked down the platform. What would be the final result? Would any of them ever join the Church? I would never know, but I would never forget that trip either.

Because I live in Shanghai, China, I had the opportunity to go with a school group to Sichuan Province in southwestern China to help build houses for victims of the earthquake that devastated the area a few years ago. We worked hard laying bricks, shoveling mortar, pushing wheelbarrows full of bricks, and handing bricks down “assembly lines” of people. By the second day my back ached, and my gloves were filled with holes. However, the trip was an unforgettable experience for me and strengthened my testimony of my own and each person’s individual worth, one of the Young Women values.
As I worked hard each day, I noticed that my belief in my own worth grew. I felt good about myself because I was doing things to improve the living situation of those less fortunate than I am.
We also had the opportunity to visit a school in the area. When we arrived, a crowd of cute little children came running toward us. When I saw all these wonderful little children, I recognized their individual worth also. They are all beautiful children of God, and I felt strongly that He loves and knows each of them.
Near the end of my trip we had the chance to go to a resort, where we were going to eat lunch. When we got there, however, we found that it had been destroyed in the earthquake. It was the worst destruction I have ever seen. It made me want to cry. The ceilings and walls of the buildings were caved in, the trees nearby had fallen, and there was rubble everywhere. A huge boulder had rolled down the mountain and crashed into the side of one building, causing the ceiling and the wall to cave in. There was a single shoe lying on one of the doorsteps.
As I thought about this and the fact that people had been killed in this disaster, I struggled to understand how Heavenly Father would let this happen. Didn’t He love them? Then I thought back to what we had discussed in Young Women class and realized that yes, He did love them. He knew and loved them each individually. Those who died that day were all children of God. Initially, it made me even sadder thinking about that. But then I realized that these people were in the spirit world and they could return to Heavenly Father again. This thought comforted me and gave me a feeling of peace.
I know that I am a child of God, with great individual worth. We are all children of our Heavenly Father, who knows us personally. He loves us with a love that is deeper and stronger than any of us could ever imagine. This understanding was planted deeply in my heart as I worked with and served among the people who had suffered so terribly in the Sichuan earthquake.

Elder Crockett was born on 15 January 1934 and grew up in Pima, Arizona, a rural community founded by LDS pioneers. His parents, Wilford W. Crockett III and Jacy Boggs Crockett, were strong in the gospel and taught him righteous principles. One time when he wanted to go to a dance instead of fulfilling a Church responsibility, his father said, “A man who can’t be depended on isn’t worth anything.” From then on Elder Crockett determined to do whatever he was assigned in the Church, whether serving as Primary teacher or stake president or mission president.

“One day I sat guarding our lemonade stand while Marilyn went for more ice chips. The streetcar would be along soon, and we almost always got some customers at this stop if there were ice chips in clean tin cups for the drinks. I passed the time watching the gardener. He looked so hot, even from where I sat, and he moved like he hurt more than usual. Oh, I felt so sorry for him! Then I had a great idea. I’d treat him to some of our lemonade—free. It wasn’t very cold but it was wet, and he’d know somebody cared about him. For safekeeping, I pocketed the pennies we’d taken in. Then I crossed the street with the cup of lemonade.
“‘Well, thank you,’ he said, sipping it carefully. ‘You’ve added just enough sugar.’
“Some people downed their drinks in one gulp, so of course they couldn’t tell if our mix was good or not. The gardener tasted it. He knew. Just as he knew which plants had the softest leaves and that my eyes were brown and not blue. He finished drinking and said that since I had done him such a favor, he was going to do one for me; he was going to show me a kind of miracle. We walked over to the colorful bed of coleus plants, all dark red and green trimmed and velvety. He troweled one up and put it into my hands after interlocking my fingers so the soil wouldn’t spill off the roots. I was to pot it, water it just so, and place it in a sunny window where I could watch ‘the miracle.’
“He took one ruffled leaf gently and, lifting it with his knobby fingers, said, ‘The coleus plant will lean to the light. Turn your plant every two or three days and the leaves will turn right around again and lean to the light. Try it, Elaine. You’ll see the miracle. And maybe it’s something you’d like to do with your life.’
“No wonder we held him and his handiwork in a kind of reverence!”

For McKinzie Mower, going to the temple helped her testimony develop at a time when it could have easily wavered. She remembers attending church and praying regularly, but “I was just going through the motions.”
“Then one day, Brother Hatch told me they were going to the temple and said I would be welcome if I could come,” she continues. “I didn’t really want to do it, but then I thought about it and decided to go. After that first time, I just started going as often as I could, and as I did, spiritual things became more important in my life.”
McKinzie says the best part of going to the temple is the good feelings she gets from serving others. “I love doing something for people that they can’t do for themselves,” she explains. “Temple work is the ultimate example of that.”

My friend of many years spent his life as a rancher, doing the hard work of raising cattle and sheep in the rugged Rocky Mountains. He once shared with me the challenges and hazards associated with raising sheep. He described that in early spring, when snow on the expansive mountain range had mostly melted, he placed the family herd of approximately 2,000 sheep in the mountains for the summer. There, he watched over the sheep until late fall, when they were moved from the summer range to a winter range in the desert. He described how tending a large flock of sheep was difficult, requiring early days and late nights—waking well before sunrise and finishing long after dark. He could not possibly do it alone.

Others helped tend the flock, including a mix of experienced ranch hands assisted by younger hands who were benefiting from the wisdom of their companions. He also relied on two old horses, two colts in training, two old sheepdogs, and two or three sheepdog pups. Over the course of the summer, my friend and his sheep faced wind and rainstorms, sickness, injuries, drought, and just about every other hardship one can imagine. Some years they had to haul water all summer just to keep the sheep alive. Then, every year in late fall, when winter weather threatened and the sheep were taken off the mountain and counted, there were usually more than 200 that were lost.

The flock of 2,000 sheep placed in the mountains in early spring was reduced to less than 1,800. Most of the missing sheep were not lost to sickness or natural death but to predators such as mountain lions or coyotes. These predators usually found the lambs that had strayed from the safety of the flock, withdrawing themselves from the protection of their shepherd. Would you consider for a moment what I have just described in a spiritual context? Who is the shepherd? Who is the flock? Who are those who assist the shepherd?

The Lord Jesus Christ Himself said, “I am the good shepherd, and know my sheep, … and I lay down my life for the sheep.”7
The prophet Nephi likewise taught that Jesus “shall feed his sheep, and in him they shall find pasture.”8 I find abiding peace in knowing that “the Lord is my shepherd”9 and that each of us is known by Him and under His care. When we confront life’s wind and rainstorms, sickness, injuries, and drought, the Lord—our Shepherd—will minister to us. He will restore our souls.

In the same way that my friend tended his sheep with the assistance of young and old ranch hands, horses, and sheepdogs, the Lord also requires assistance in the challenging labor of caring for the sheep in His flock.

As children of a loving Heavenly Father and as sheep in His flock, we enjoy the blessing of being individually ministered to by Jesus Christ. Simultaneously, we have a responsibility to provide ministering assistance to others around us as shepherds ourselves. We heed the words of the Lord to “serve me and go forth in my name, and … gather together my sheep.”10
Who is a shepherd? Every man, woman, and child in the kingdom of God is a shepherd. No calling is required. From the moment we emerge from the waters of baptism, we are commissioned to this work. We reach out in love to others because it is what our Savior commanded us to do. Alma emphasized: “For what shepherd … having many sheep doth not watch over them, that the wolves enter not and devour his flock? … Doth he not drive him out?”11 Whenever our neighbors are in distress temporally or spiritually, we run to their aid. We bear one another’s burdens that they may be light. We mourn with those who mourn. We comfort those who stand in need of comfort.12 The Lord lovingly expects this of us. And the day will come when we will be held accountable for the care we take in ministering to His flock.13

My shepherd friend shared another important element in the watchcare of sheep on the range. He described that lost sheep were particularly vulnerable to the dangers of predators. In fact, up to 15 percent of his and his team’s total time was devoted to finding lost sheep. The sooner they found lost sheep, before the sheep drifted too far from the flock, the less likely the sheep were to be harmed. Recovering lost sheep required much patience and discipline.

Some years ago, I found an article in a local newspaper so intriguing that I saved it. The front-page headline read, “Determined Dog Won’t Abandon Lost Sheep.”14 This article describes a small number of sheep belonging to an operation not far from my friend’s property that were somehow left behind in their summer range. Two or three months later, they became stranded and snowbound in the mountains. When the sheep were left behind, the sheepdog stayed with them, for it was his duty to look after and protect the sheep. He would not go off watch! There he remained—circling about the lost sheep for months in the cold and snowy weather, serving as a protection against coyotes, mountain lions, or any other predator that would harm the sheep. He stayed there until he was able to lead or herd the sheep back to the safety of the shepherd and the flock. The image captured on the front page of this article allows one to see character in the eyes and demeanor of this sheepdog.

In the New Testament, we find a parable and instruction from the Savior that provide further insight pertaining to our responsibility as shepherds, ministering sisters and brothers, of lost sheep:
“What man of you, having an hundred sheep, if he lose one of them, doth not leave the ninety and nine in the wilderness, and go after that which is lost, until he find it?
“And when he hath found it, he layeth it on his shoulders, rejoicing.
“And when he cometh home, he calleth together his friends and neighbours, saying unto them, Rejoice with me; for I have found my sheep which was lost.”15
As we summarize the lesson taught in the parable, we find this valuable counsel:
We are to identify the lost sheep.
We search after them until they are found.
When they are found, we may have to lay them on our shoulders to bring them home.
We surround them with friends upon their return.
Brothers and sisters, our greatest challenges and our greatest rewards may come as we minister to lost sheep. The members of the Church in the Book of Mormon “watch[ed] over their people, and did nourish them with things pertaining to righteousness.”16 We can follow their examples and remember that ministering is to be “led by the Spirit, … flexible, and … customized to the needs of each member.” It is also critical that we “seek to help individuals and families prepare for their next ordinance, keep [their] covenants … , and become self-reliant.”17
Every soul is precious to our Heavenly Father. His personal invitation to minister is of greatest value and importance to Him, for it is His work and glory. It is quite literally the work of eternity. Each one of His children has immeasurable potential in His sight. He loves you with a love you cannot even begin to comprehend. Like the devoted sheepdog, the Lord will stay on the mountain to protect you through the wind, rainstorms, snow, and more.
President Russell M. Nelson taught us last conference: “Our message to the world [and, may I add, “to our ministering flock”] is simple and sincere: we invite all of God’s children on both sides of the veil to come unto their Savior, receive the blessings of the holy temple, have enduring joy, and qualify for eternal life.”18
May we raise our sights to this prophetic vision so we can shepherd souls to the temple and ultimately to our Savior, Jesus Christ. He does not expect us to perform miracles. He asks only that we bring our brothers and sisters unto Him, for He has the power to redeem souls. As we do so, we can and will secure this promise: “And when the chief Shepherd shall appear, ye shall receive a crown of glory that fadeth not away.”19 Of this I testify—and of Jesus Christ as our Savior and our Redeemer—in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Hi! I’m Jackson, from Germany, and this is my brother, Josiah, and my sister, Cora Jade.
Lots of people come to Germany when they’re not safe in their countries anymore. They’re called refugees. The kids don’t have any toys, so I gave them some of mine. Then I had a great idea. I asked my mom if we could make dolls for them.
I love to sew with my mom. I pushed the pedal on the sewing machine and put the stuffing in the dolls.
My family collected some clothes and toys to give to the refugees here. We drew pictures for them of things that make us happy.
We took the dolls to the refugee camps and gave them to kids there. I like making new friends!
They sang songs for us, and we played our instruments for them. Some people who were sad smiled when we played “I Am a Child of God.” It felt really, really, really good.
The kids we met are like us in lots of ways. All of us like to sing and get toys and play outside. I know Jesus loves them, and He loves me.
For more ideas on serving refugees in your area, visit lds.org/go/61775.

Last year the missionaries knocked on their door and were invited to come inside. After the missionaries taught the family, Mother decided that she wanted to join the Church, and knew that it would help her teach the gospel to her family. Father decided that he needed to obey the Word of Wisdom so that he could be baptized too. Both parents were baptized on July 10, 1991. About a week later, Loli was baptized by her father. The Primary children sang at her baptism. A few weeks after that, Pili decided that she was ready to be baptized too. She knew that it was important for her family to become an eternal family. When Pili was confirmed, she could feel the Holy Spirit in her heart.

I often looked at the picture of the Oakland Temple hanging from the wall in my room, mostly because I loved to lie on my bed and dream of going there someday with my future companion.
My fiancé had already been through the temple before his mission. Now he and I were preparing to go through together a few days before our wedding.
I know the temple is a holy place, and only worthy members holding temple recommends can enter. I had made an appointment to see my bishop and would also have to see the stake president for a temple interview. I realized, however, that there’s more to an interview than just making the appointment and answering the questions. I had to be prepared and feel worthy. I wanted to be able to tell my bishop and stake president that without a doubt I felt worthy to attend the temple.
How does one go about getting a feeling of worthiness? I felt like I had been living a good life, and I was striving to keep the commandments and follow the counsel of my Church leaders. But I had to be sure I was forgiven of my sins and could therefore worthily enter the temple. In contemplating all these things I decided to set aside a day for fasting and prayer.
At my parents’ farm there are many places for privacy where I could fast and pray undisturbed. I chose a spot on the root cellar, shaded by a large pepper tree, where I would go to my Heavenly Father in study and prayer. I began my fast on Monday. Early Tuesday morning, with scriptures in hand, I went to the tree. I looked forward to some moments of quiet prayer, gospel study, and meditation as I sought an answer from my Father in Heaven. I began reading, and as I did, I would often stop to pray. I felt the Spirit very strongly a few times, but I had not yet approached Heavenly Father with my question of worthiness. I decided to get off the cellar and kneel on the ground.
The sun was coming up and the rays were filtering through the rows of crops. It was beautiful. The light seemed to warm my soul, and I felt the Spirit very strongly. Suddenly, the good feelings went away and I felt confused. I knew I had felt the Spirit, but I had not yet received an answer to my question: Am I worthy to attend the temple? I felt that I was, but I had to be sure.
I continued to pray, but that strong spiritual feeling I had before didn’t come again. I wanted to go back to the house, but I knew I couldn’t leave until I felt good. I decided to continue reading my scriptures. I turned to Doctrine and Covenants 50:34 [D&C 50:34], which says, “He that receiveth of God, let him account it of God; and let him rejoice that he is accounted of God worthy to receive.”
A beautiful and joyful feeling came over me, for I knew I had felt the Spirit, and in that verse it said that if you receive of God, rejoice that you are worthy to receive it! I felt so good as the tears streamed down my face. Finally, I knew I could answer before my Church leaders. But more important, I knew I could answer before my God that I was indeed worthy to enter into his holy house.

When I was about 14, I had come to the conclusion that trying a beer once would be perfectly all right. Before I had tried one, however, I had an interview with my bishop to go on a youth temple trip. One of the questions was about experimenting with drugs or alcohol. I was glad I could say no, but the question puzzled me. “Wasn’t experimenting okay?” If that question was important enough to ask in a temple recommend interview, it must not be okay. Since then, I’ve realized if you never take the first you will never take the rest. I am grateful to the Lord and a bishop for guiding me and helping me avoid so much sorrow.
Elder Aaron Ellsworth, 20Washington Seattle Mission

When Stéphane Rasorotsoa lost his grandfather, who was his last known family member, he was inspired to move to Toamasina to find work. He met the missionaries there, who invited him to attend an English class. He was not very interested in learning English, but something made him accept the invitation. Then, an unexpected phone call from someone he did not know invited him to move to Tolagnaro, and an unexplained desire to find his family prompted him to respond to that invitation. In Tolagnaro, he discovered the same Church as the one where he learned English in Toamasina, was taught by the missionaries, joined the Church, later found his mother in Antananarivo, and was prompted to serve a mission. He is now serving in the Madagascar Antananarivo Mission and is clearly blessed with the gift of tongues.5

Before long, Aulola reconnected with an acquaintance from her early days in Tonga: Brother Semisi Mounga Mateialona, a priesthood holder who had recently found himself single again, too. They bonded over shared experiences and their mutual love for the gospel of Jesus Christ, and Aulola knew in her heart that this was the man for her. The couple got married in New Zealand in 2019 and at the end of September 2022, they travelled to the Nuku’alofa Tonga Temple to be sealed to each other for time and all eternity.

Elder Hunter related an experience he had during the time he served as president of the Genealogical Society: “I went to see President McKay one day after a computer representative told me that his company had developed a cylinder that would hold a billion bits of information. I was excited! This was a break-through for genealogical record keeping. As I told President McKay about it, I said, ‘Isn’t that marvelous?’ He replied, ‘What’s marvelous about that? You haven’t had use for it before, have you?’ I replied, ‘No, we are just at that point now.’ And he said, ‘Well, that’s the reason the Lord has provided it now.’”

I received just the other day a letter from a dear friend. Her name is Helen, and her husband’s name is Charlie. She writes as follows, among other things:
“Today Charlie and I spoke at our sacrament meeting. In my talk I related the advice you gave me when I graduated from Idaho Falls High School and had made plans to attend Ricks College. You told me that I should attend the Church College of Hawaii, where I would have a better chance to meet and marry a young man of Chinese ancestry.
“I took your advice and went to CCH, where I met Charlie and married him. We have been married 37 years and have five children. All of our five children have served missions. … Three of our children married in the Hawaiian temple. We have two single children, and we hope they will find worthy individuals to take to the temple soon. We have six adorable grandchildren and two more on the way.
“I have been blessed to have a faithful husband who honors his priesthood and has been worthy to serve the Lord as bishop, stake president, and mission president. It has been my privilege to support him in all his Church assignments. I have served as stake Relief Society president for almost five years.
“Today, as I count my many blessings, I could not help but think of what a great influence you have been in my life. I just want you to know that I followed your counsel, and because of that my life has been blessed abundantly. I thank you for taking the time to follow my progress when I left Hong Kong to come to America.”

Cesar began looking for the gospel without really realizing it. Although he was already active in a church, Cesar became interested in other religions and started taking his first baby steps toward the truth.

“I would read literature from other churches and I would then pray to Father in Heaven saying, ‘If this is the true church, send your servants to me and have them teach me.’”

Cesar started his search, he says, without even really thinking about what a huge change it would be in his life. But not long after Cesar started praying for an answer, one came.

Cesar’s last name is Gaspar. Fortunate for him, his name fell right after Betty Garcia’s on the alphabetical seating charts for most of his junior high school classes. Since they sat next to each other most of the school day, they became friends, sometimes studying together after school.

“One day she mentioned that she was a member of the Church,” says Cesar. “I got very interested and started asking her what her beliefs were, what her principles were.”

Soon Cesar knew he needed to know more. His thirst for knowledge led him to follow Betty’s brother home from school one day so he would know where her family lived. After working up the courage to knock on her door, Cesar was invited into the house, and Betty and her family had a long talk with him about what it meant to be a Latter-day Saint.

But it was another name that led him to find the family’s house in the first place.

“When I was first learning about the Church, the thing that impressed me the most was its name. There was something very special to me about the fact that the Church had Jesus Christ in its name. It has a very spiritual and good feeling.”

Soon Cesar had a copy of the Book of Mormon—compliments of the Garcia family—and lots of questions.

Attending sacrament meeting for the first time was a real switch for Cesar. It wasn’t anything like the meetings he was accustomed to.

“There was a man carrying the bread and water trays. He was very busy fixing the microphone and saying hello to everyone. There were so many people there, I wondered if they would all fit in the church! It seemed funny that the man fixing the microphone was the bishop.

“It was also a real change to be in church for three hours; that seemed like a long time. I still remember that first Sunday School class. We talked about the birth of Jesus Christ, and I asked a lot of questions. After class, Betty’s brother, Isaac, helped me find the missionaries. I didn’t go to priesthood meeting that day; instead, I had my first discussion with the missionaries.”

That discussion led to more discussions during the week. By Thursday, he had had an interview with the bishop, and the following Sunday—exactly one week after his first attendance at Sunday meetings—he was baptized.

“It was pretty fast,” Cesar admits, “but by that time I had already read the Book of Mormon. Before meeting the missionaries, I had also read Doctrines of Salvation, Truth Restored, and The Miracle of Forgiveness. I had started reading Jesus the Christ. I felt I was ready.”

That was two years ago. Cesar is the only Church member in his family, and it would be easy for him to maybe skip church once in a while, or decide against important programs like seminary—especially since he almost always has to walk to get there! But he doesn’t even think about that. Instead, he thinks about who sees what he does.

“I have to be an example to my family,” he says. “I really try not to make mistakes and to be as perfect as I can because I know they’re watching me.”

As any convert knows, joining the Church can be a big change. Cesar was no exception.

“The Church is more than principles. It’s a way of life,” he says. “The Word of Wisdom, the blessing of the food at every meal, prayer morning and night, early-morning seminary—that was a big change! And there are other things, like studying the scriptures on your own and getting up early for church on Sundays.”

But after two years, Cesar seems comfortable with all those changes. He’s so comfortable, in fact, that he will share the gospel message with anyone who will listen.

“I try to be very careful about comments I make to my friends so that I can teach them about the Church without offending them,” he says.

Although he’s still relatively new in the gospel, you’d never know he hasn’t been a member all his life. Part of it can probably be attributed to the fact that Cesar’s a quick study and that he has a great desire to know the truth. But Cesar says that there’s another, more important reason he’s learned so much so fast.

“When I was reading the Book of Mormon, before I joined the Church, I came to the part about Jesus Christ in America, and I knew it was true,” says Cesar. “At the time, I didn’t really know that it was the Holy Ghost, but I felt very peaceful. That moment was a new beginning in my life. I felt like I could start all over and do things in a different and better way.”

And that strong prompting has translated into bold action. It’s the secret to Cesar’s great energy in living and sharing the gospel, despite the usual obstacles and weaknesses that he, like most people, has to overcome. Cesar keeps a journal to remind himself of, and to eventually share with others, the reasons he lives the gospel. It helps him keep his spirits up when the going gets tough.

“Being an example and writing in my journal will help me leave a legacy. When they read what I have written, my children and grandchildren will know that being the only member of the Church in my family isn’t easy at all, and I have had to work very hard.”

They’ll know a lot of other things about him, too—like the fact that he loves his calling as a stake missionary; that he loves to be around other Church members, especially the young men and women in his ward and stake; and, most important, that he has a testimony.

“I’ve noticed that many people think I’m not old enough to know or to receive an answer about something important, like religion. But I have a testimony that no matter your age, if you have a sincere heart and if you ask, you will receive an answer for sure,” says Cesar.

Cesar hasn’t ever sung the lyrics “Pioneer children sang as they walked, and walked, and walked, and walked,” but when he hears those words, his eyes light up, and he says with a smile, “That’s my song! I walk a lot.”

There are differences, of course, between Cesar and the pioneer children of old. Cesar walks through the busy streets of Guadalajara, not the open plains. And Cesar doesn’t gather fuel for the evening’s fire or feed livestock at the end of the day. But he, too, is a pioneer.

One day his children and grandchildren will talk about their ancestor Cesar Gaspar and how he loved to gather friends together and give them the wonderful gospel message. And they’ll talk about the fact that, even though he had to walk most of the places he wanted to go, he was always singing a song—even if you couldn’t hear it. It was a song about how happy the gospel made him and how strong his testimony was. He may or may not have even been much of a singer, but it was a tune he loved to carry.

Right in his heart.

Almost three years ago, one of our daughters got married and immediately left with her husband for medical school in a distant city. She was leaving the security of the nest to begin a family of her own. I wondered: “Did I teach her everything she needs to know? Does she know what is most important in this life? Is she prepared to build a happy home?”
As I watched her drive away, I remembered a little journal I gave her on her 17th birthday. It was entitled “Did I Tell You … ?” In it, I recorded counsel I had often given her in our late-night conversations. As she and her new husband headed for their life together, I thought of three additional entries I wanted to add to that little journal to help her make a transition more important and challenging than that of crossing the country: the transition to starting her own home and family. Let me share these entries to her and to all young people in the Church, to teach and testify of the importance of family.