Gospel Story Finder

I have the privilege of serving with a great Church leader from Indonesia, Subandriyo. He joined the Church as a young man. He is from a poor home without many of the material things of this life. When Subandriyo fell in love with Steffi, he went to ask her mother if they could marry. He had no money, nothing for a traditional wedding party. But this is the promise he made to Steffi's mother. "I have no money for a wedding, but I promise you that I will make your daughter the happiest woman on earth and I will always take care of her." He has kept that promise.

One day, Justina met two young missionaries in crisp white shirts and ties. Intrigued by their appearance and message, she invited them into her home and listened to their teachings. The message resonated with her, and in 2006, she was baptized into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Shortly afterward, her husband and daughters followed her example, embracing the gospel with open hearts.

I am always grateful to follow Sister Eyring when we speak to you at devotional. In baseball terms, she is the leadoff hitter, the top of the lineup. I fully realized that only when we had been married for several years. I was serving in a university ward bishopric. The bishop, Garth Hanson, was one of my professors. I assumed that he had chosen me for my performance in his class.
But Bishop Hanson soon revealed a key reason for calling me. During a bishopric meeting, he made the statement, “You married well.” Taking that as a compliment, I proudly said, “Thank you.” He looked at me solemnly and said, “No, you really married well.”
I was reminded of that in a similar way several years later when we were living in Massachusetts. I was serving as a high councilor in the Nashua New Hampshire Stake, and Sister Eyring, still in her twenties, was the stake Young Women president. Once, when the full stake leadership was meeting on a weekday night, she and I were unable to get a babysitter for our three young children.
I called the stake president, Ned Wheeler, and asked which of us should attend the meeting. He emphatically replied, “Oh, send your wife!” That’s about the size of it, and I’m grateful.

I remember when I was about Beehive age (back when dinosaurs roamed the earth!), my older sister was leaving home to go away to school. I was crying inconsolably. As she tried to comfort me, she said, “Don’t cry, Sharon; I’ll be back.” With tear-stained face, I looked up at her and said, “Oh, I know you’ll be back, but who is going to mop the kitchen floor while you’re gone?” I think that’s called turning your heart to yourself!

I soon discovered it was more than having the floor mopped that I would miss. We need each other. We need to stand by each other.

William Wilson Sterrett was a different kind of pioneer. He was not driven from his home, nor did he suffer with the Saints at Winter Quarters. He was a pioneer, nonetheless, that we honor and can learn from. Full of gold fever and a spirit of adventure, young William arrived in Salt Lake City on his way to seek his fortune in the goldfields of California. It was during his stay in the valley that he was introduced to Mormonism. “During the winter of 1850,” William recorded, “I read the Book of Mormon, Voice of Warning, and some other works, and I became convinced of the truth. The Holy Ghost enlightened my mind to the extent that I knew for myself of the truth, that it was of God.” Sterrett explained that many Gentiles wintered over in Salt Lake City before venturing onward to California. Many of these Gentiles, in a desire to fit in and benefit from the hospitality of the Saints, joined the Church during the winter. They were known as “Winter Mormons,” for in the spring they bade farewell not only to Salt Lake City but also to their professed beliefs in Mormonism. Despite a burning testimony, William Sterrett purposely delayed his baptism until early May. “I held off,” he recalled, “not wishing to be called a ‘Winter Mormon.’”

After more than two years, it was as if dawn finally began to pierce the long, dark night and the sun began to rise again. My heart began to heal, shadows gave way to light, and despair blossomed into a newfound hope and joy. Allow me to explain.

I had a biology class in the Tanner Building. During that class I saw Nancy for the first time, and it felt as if the world lit up and time paused. She was the kind of person who made the whole room seem brighter. She had an air of quiet reassurance that made me want to know more about her. But I couldn’t help but think, “How could someone like her even notice someone like me?”

I wanted so badly to ask her out, but fear held me back. What if she, like others before her, kindly found a reason to say no when she learned I had a little girl? I couldn’t bear the thought of being rejected—not just for myself but because of Aubrey. As I wrestled with my hesitation, the end of the semester was looming, and I knew I might soon lose my opportunity.

One day in class I happened to glance over Nancy’s shoulder and notice her name written neatly at the top of her paper. That was all the information I needed to embark on a quest. Armed with her name, I headed straight to the microfiche machines in the Wilkinson Center. For those unfamiliar, these microfiche machines held a treasure trove of information—a miniaturized printed directory on film of every BYU student, complete with their home address, phone number, and class schedule. Clearly, data privacy wasn’t even a concept back then. As I scrolled through the tiny, glowing slides, my heart raced. Eventually I found Nancy’s contact information.

Looking back now, I can laugh at how strange and bold that moment was. At the time it felt like a covert operation, but it was fueled by a sincere desire to get to know this incredible girl who had so effortlessly captured my attention. Little did I know that finding her name on that microfiche would mark the beginning of something far more significant than I could ever have imagined.

And then the Lord, in His perfect timing, provided a tender mercy. One day Nancy and I finished a biology test in the Testing Center at the exact same moment. As we stood there waiting for our scores, we struck up a casual conversation. Nancy sighed and mentioned that biology just didn’t come naturally to her. My heart was pounding. I knew this was my chance. So, mustering every ounce of courage, I suggested that she join a small study group I was in with another friend. To my amazement, she smiled and said sure! That simple conversation, sparked by a shared moment of vulnerability, opened the door to something extraordinary that would change our lives forever.

One of our first dates was a pivotal moment—one in which I decided it was time to tell Nancy about my daughter. Up until then I had been hesitant, knowing from experience that this conversation could often change everything. But something about Nancy’s warmth and openness gave me the courage to be honest.

As we were driving together on our way to meet dear friends who were watching Aubrey, I cautiously explained my situation. I told her about my sweet little child who was the center of my world. I braced for the usual pause and the polite but awkward response. But Nancy’s reaction was anything but typical. She just shrugged her shoulders and casually said, “That’s interesting. I recently dated another single guy who also has a little daughter named Aubrey. What are the odds of that?”

I was stunned—what were the odds of that indeed? It felt like a moment straight out of a Hallmark movie—hopeful in the very best way, yet still impossibly perfect. God surely was in the details. Nancy’s nonchalant reaction melted away all my fears.

When Nancy and Aubrey met for the first time, it was magic. Aubrey’s bright eyes and Nancy’s irresistible charm created an instant connection beyond anything I could ever have imagined. Nancy and Aubrey loved being together—it was the beginning of something truly special, a powerful bond that exists to this day. From that moment on, our dating took off. Aubrey wasn’t just a part of my life anymore—she became a part of our lives. And, well, since Nancy and I are both here at BYU today, I think it’s safe to say things worked out quite well!

As a youth I had many opportunities to perform baptisms for the dead in the San Diego California Temple. Though I always had a good experience, one trip in particular stands out in my mind.
I was 16, and my little sister had just turned 12 and was making her first trip to do baptisms for the dead. Since it was her first time, we decided to walk around the outside of the temple after we finished.
The temple grounds have a couple of lookout points on one side, so we walked over there. Because the San Diego Temple is situated next to a busy highway, when you stand at a lookout point, you actually look down at the freeway.
Standing on the temple’s higher ground that day gave me a new perspective on life. I was looking down at the world with its whizzing cars, crowded shopping centers, and graffiti-covered road signs.
It was then that the thought came to my mind: “You don’t want to be a part of that; it’s not what life is about.” I had always been taught that the purpose of life is to return to live with our Heavenly Father and become like Him. I knew I didn’t need the things of the world to accomplish that purpose.
I turned around and looked at the beautiful temple, and I was grateful for the knowledge of the gospel and the perspective it gave me. I knew that in the midst of the chaotic and treacherous world, I had found higher ground to stand on.
That day at the temple I promised my Heavenly Father that I would always stand on His side and not the world’s. No matter what the world throws at us, we can overcome it by keeping the covenants we have made and by standing in holy places (see D&C 87:8).

Now, with greater strength than my own, I finished my Masters Degree in educational administration. My focus became pursing a position as a public school administrator. One day, my husband said, "you know, Ricks College is changing to a 4-year university and they are in need of professors in the department of teacher education. Minimum requirements are a masters degree and teaching experience. You have both. You should apply."

I quickly rejected the idea and provided him with a series of reasons. First, I was not professor material and second who was I to think I could be hired at Brigham Young University- Idaho? I am a farm girl from Southeast Idaho. He replied, "Dana, you're better than you think you are. Just apply." To appease him, I applied and to my amazement was asked to interview. When I was offered the position as faculty, every doubt in my ability consumed me. My fear and lack of confidence overwhelmed me to the point I had decided I couldn't accept the job. Then the thought came to me: "You are right. You can't do this on your own. Especially if you don't ask for help." When would I learn to "lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help?" When would I realize that "my help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth?" With that reminder, and turning to the Lord, I accepted the position as faculty at Brigham Young University Idaho.

As most of you are aware, I am a convert to the Church, having been baptized in Tokyo, Japan, back in 1952 while serving in the U.S. Navy during the Korean conflict. I was born and reared in Missouri, where much of the early history of this church took place. But I had never heard anything about the Mormon church. I was looking for the truth, and although I had read the Bible and believed that Jesus Christ had lived on the earth and had been resurrected, yet I had so many unanswered questions—questions such as: Why doesn’t God speak to man today as he did anciently when the Bible was being written? How can Jesus be his own father and the Holy Ghost too? Why did Jesus have to be baptized when he had no sin? Where was I before I was born, and where do I go when I die? How can just believing in Christ save me when I haven’t kept God’s Ten Commandments?

I knew there must be answers that I had not heard. The answers came when Elders Ted Raban and Ronald Flygare knocked on my door in San Diego, California, in July 1951. My wife, Connie, let them in and accepted a copy of the Book of Mormon from them. I was in Hawaii at the time, attending a fourteen-week training course preparatory to deployment to Korea.

When I returned home, Connie gave me a copy of the Book of Mormon, and I began to read. I knew the book was true before I had finished 2 Nephi—Nephi had converted one more—and began to attend church in the old Valencia Park Ward in San Diego. Because of my preparation for deployment, I was not able to study and attend church as I wanted to and longed for the time when I could. The time came aboard the aircraft carrier Philippine Seas, where I read fourteen of the best books that have ever been written. They included the standard works of the Church, plus the writings of each of the Presidents of the Church from Joseph Smith, Jr., to David O. McKay, plus Parley P. and Orson Pratt and a few others. I was like a starving man who had found food and drink for the first time. I loved it. When we arrived in Japan, the LDS group aboard ship decided I should be baptized. So we traveled to the Tokyo mission home, where I requested baptism. I was informed that I had not been an investigator for the required one-year time period; therefore, I could not be baptized. However, I persisted. I asked to be interviewed. The interview took an hour and a half, but in the end I received a recommend for baptism and confirmation. McDonald B. Johnson, the LDS group leader on the Philippine Seas, baptized me, and Fred Gaylord Peterson confirmed me, and I became a member of the Church on February 26, 1952. I was ordained a deacon that day and subsequently to another office in the priesthood each time the ship returned to Japan, until on July 26, 1952, I was ordained an elder and returned to San Diego in August, where my wife had been baptized on March 1 of that same year. We were a united family in the gospel of Jesus Christ and were looking forward with much anticipation to being sealed together with our three children in the Mesa Arizona Temple, which happened in May 1953.

I have visited Hawaii three times in my life. All three times, involving this campus, twice wearing a white shirt with a black name tag. The first time was in June of 1974. Back then, it was called the Church College of Hawaii. It was one of three Language Training Missions (LTMs), today’s MTCs. I stayed in Hale 2 with other missionaries learning various Asian languages. My language, Japanese! My first reaction when I opened my mission call and saw Japan was a nervous: “Oh, my, what a language!”

And the language was a challenge for me. One early morning a few weeks into my experience, I was outside my room in the courtyard, sitting on the grass and leaning back against a palm tree. I had my missionary flip chart open to a painting of a boy kneeling in a grove of trees. I was reciting, from mere rote memory, a simplified version of the First Vision. I had no idea what the sounds I was making were actually saying. All of a sudden, the words were making sense! I understood what I was saying. I guess you would say I was experiencing the ‘gift of tongues!’ It was perfectly clear; the language was natural and flowing. The tears began flowing also. Then the greatest thing happened. I knew by the Spirit that the message was true. Joseph, in reality, saw God the Father and His Beloved Son Jesus Christ in that grove of trees. It was true. It really happened. The tears ran down my cheeks and dripped off my chin. I remember seeing them splash on the flip chart page. I knew it was true, and like Joseph, I knew that God knew, that I knew, it was true. Here, on the soil of this wonderful campus, I found my own sacred grove.

In my patriarchal blessing that I received two weeks before my 18th birthday, it states:
“I bless you with the gift of faith, that you may be able to obtain and to keep an unswerving testimony of the truthfulness of the first vision of the Prophet Joseph Smith.”

That promised gift had not been clearly manifest before my La’ie LTM experience, but from that morning on, it has been a solid foundation stone in my life.

I was shy and lacked confidence as a sophomore in high school in Cheyenne, Wyoming. Then my life began to change dramatically one Friday afternoon. I attended a football pep rally. It was the typical high school rally: a jam-packed auditorium, a speech or two, lots of yelling and shouting.
As I sat near the back of the auditorium watching the players and cheerleaders, I realized more than ever before that I wasn’t part of their social group and probably never would be. The only thing that kept me from feeling totally dejected was the feeling that my current position didn’t mean that I couldn’t excel at something.
Somewhere during my walk from the pep rally to home I realized that I needed to do something better than anyone else at East High School. My self-image needed this shot of excellence. It was just a simple decision involving no drum rolls, no trumpets, no crowds, and no big buildup.
At this pivotal point in my life, the Holy Ghost touched me and directed me to the Book of Mormon. Being “directed” was a new experience in my life, but it felt so easy and so right. I went straight to our bookshelf when I got home and dusted off Mom’s old hardback edition of the Book of Mormon. As I sat down, I decided that I would learn more about the Book of Mormon than any other person in my high school. I read all of 1 Nephi during that first sitting.
Some of the words on those pages were difficult for me, and I didn’t learn much from that first reading. But I had started toward my goal, and that was immense progress. I felt good inside as I closed the cover. I knew I was doing the right thing. My goal and those feelings launched me on a never-ending path of gospel study and represented the beginnings of a testimony. As time passed, I read more and more from the Book of Mormon, and I began to understand more of what I read. I don’t know if I achieved my goal to learn more about it than any other person at my high school, but I do know what reading it did for me and for my feelings of self-worth.
The spiritual security I found in the Book of Mormon was a haven. I had increased my understanding of eternal truths. And if I couldn’t excel academically, athletically, or socially, it was all brought into realistic perspective by those eternal truths.

Growing up with divorced parents was difficult. My dad remarried, and I enjoyed spending time with my stepmom and her kids. But even in the best of times, I carried the weight of my family’s situation.
I worried about my future family. I was afraid my marriage would fail and cause me so much pain. This fear made me extra careful when I started dating in high school. I didn’t want my heart broken, which made it impossible to open myself up to people, even to my good friends. When I went to college, I guarded my heart. I was extremely cautious and most of the time never made it past a first date because I was terrified. I thought I would never get married.
My fears about commitment took another bad turn when my dad got divorced a second time.
I was heartbroken by the news. I had suppressed my feelings about my parents’ divorce for most of my life out of love for my dad, but this news made all my anger, sadness, resentment, abandonment, and pain come out.
As I prepared to leave on my mission soon after, I counseled with Heavenly Father to help me let go of the hurt and have hope for a future marriage. I learned that healing takes time and continually seeking the Savior.
I carried that hope of healing with me throughout my mission, and I was blessed to meet people from all walks of life who could empathize with my struggles. These people helped strengthen my faith to trust in what the Savior could do for me.
But then I had a companion I struggled to get along with. After a hard day of disagreements, I wondered if the contention I had with my companion was a sneak peek at my future marriage.
“If she got tired of me in just a few short months, will my future husband dislike me too after marriage?” I thought.
Shortly after coming home from my mission, I remembered what I learned from the wonderful people on my mission. I was hesitant at first, but I relied on the Savior to help me overcome my fears and start dating again. It took some time, but I eventually got engaged to my best friend from high school. He knew everything about me, including my fears and my experiences, and I was overjoyed to be with him.
But I was terrified. He was one of the kindest, most thoughtful people I knew, but I still worried that my marriage would fail as my parents’ did. My faith in an eternal marriage was faltering.
With these thoughts swirling around in my head, I turned to prayer and was prompted to talk to my mom about her experiences. I asked her why it was worth getting married when I could avoid the potential pain by not getting married.
That’s when my mom bore her powerful testimony of the Atonement of Jesus Christ. She reminded me that no matter how we struggle in life, the Savior is always there to buoy us up. If we trust in Him, then we have no reason to fear for the future.
My mom’s advice brought Doctrine and Covenants 6:36 into my mind, which says, “Look unto me in every thought; doubt not, fear not.”
If we live in fear of what could happen, we will never get to experience anything, good or bad. The whole point of being here on earth is to have a body and to be tested, but the Lord also wants us to experience the great joys that He has in store for us.
A few months later as I focused on Christ and pressed forward with faith, my husband and I were sealed in the temple. Even though we have our challenges, we focus on Christ. Keeping Him at the center of my life and my marriage has made all the difference, and I have experienced more joy than I thought possible. My life has gotten better every time that I’ve put my trust in the Lord over my fears.

We know that many wards lately have staged service projects featuring cemetery cleanups, but youth in the Goldsboro North Carolina Stake added another dimension: a historical visitor from the past.

After the youth weeded, hoed, mowed, scrubbed, and cleaned, Brother Allen Holloman, dressed in a Civil War uniform, appeared beside the tombstone of his great-great-grandfather and talked about the hardships that were faced during the war.

After a rough day at school, Lucy S. (13, from Utah, USA) finally arrived home. Her brother, David (12) noticed she was upset.
“What’s wrong?” David asked. “Are you OK?”
David’s concern made a big difference for Lucy. “I felt a lot better,” Lucy says. “David has autism, and he often just focuses on what he’s interested in, but when he sees someone who is sad or lonely, he’ll go up to them. He’s very aware of other people. That’s the kind of person he is—he’s good, genuine, and honest.”
Siblings like Lucy know that growing up with a brother or sister with a disability can be challenging, but they also know how wonderful it can be. And they know the many blessings that can come. They can teach us a lot. Read on for examples of what some of these siblings have learned that may also help you.
Anela (14), Chiyo (11), and Daniel (10) from the Philippines have a brother, Bien (12), who has cerebral palsy. They see him as a unique person with his own strengths. They wish others would get to know Bien the way they do.
“Where we live, there’s a steep hill that my siblings and I call a ‘mountain,’” Anela says. “We enjoy riding our bikes up the hill and racing back down. Bien has a hard time going up, so we help him. Sometimes people stare at him. It bothers me when that happens. But Bien doesn’t seem to mind. He smiles and waves at them as we pass by.
“I wish people would know when they see Bien that he’s friendly and enjoys being around other people. He’s shy at first, but he’s a lot of fun once he feels comfortable. He can’t do what able-bodied people can do, but he loves to learn. I’ve learned from Bien that we shouldn’t worry so much about what everyone else thinks about us, and we should treat everyone with kindness.”
“Sometimes it’s hard to be patient with David, especially when he won’t listen,” Lucy says. “Sometimes he can’t help it, so I don’t want to get too mad at him, but I also want to make sure he learns and understands. It’s important to find balance. It helps me know how to help my brother.”
Chiyo has found that patience helps Bien learn. “I help teach my brother the alphabet, colors, numbers, and animals,” Chiyo says. “Sometimes he has a hard time identifying animals. I keep working with him, and after a while, I noticed he’s improved. I’ll name an animal, he’ll point to a photo, and he gets some of them right! Bien’s example teaches me that it takes time to learn new things and it can be hard, but if you have patience and keep practicing, you will eventually get it right.”
“I love that my family thinks about my brother before we do an activity so he can have a good time too,” Anela says. “We also include Bien in helping around the house,” Chiyo says. “He can fold some of his clothes and sweep the floor.”
Lucy has also seen how teachers and friends at church make David feel welcome. “It’s nice to see people try and learn about David’s interests,” Lucy says. “Right now, he really loves Star Wars, so ward members will ask him about it. They know it’s something he’ll be willing to talk about. One of his teachers tries to incorporate what David likes into the lessons in some way. This helps him pay more attention in class.”
Someone may look different, act different, or have different abilities, but we all belong. There are many ways to help everyone feel included and important. The more we strive to do so, the more we will all learn and grow.
We all belong.
Christ and the Palsied Man, by J. Kirk Richards

A number of years ago one of our grandsons entered mortality. His tiny tabernacle had not been perfectly formed and his body was not adequate to sustain life. This precious little gift from God lived but an hour. The sorrow of the moment has now been softened by many hours of deep and reverent reflection.
Although the privilege of sweet association with the child has been deferred, there were also reasons for quiet rejoicing. The child was born in the covenant. His father gave him a name and a blessing during the child's brief moments of life. And the lad received a body. That body, which he undoubtedly had been promised in the premortal estate, was gladly received and that child now has claim upon that body in perfected form as long as time shall last.

In this year’s January Ensign, a young woman named Elizabeth Stitt shared an experience she had learning about the power of gratitude. Her story was inspiring to me not only because I know Elizabeth personally but because it was a message I needed as well.
Elizabeth shared her story:
Several months after returning home from a mission, I had the opportunity to go back to the city where I served to do a research project to finish my undergraduate degree. As I traveled each day throughout the city to do my project, Heavenly Father blessed me in many ways. He guided my path and protected me. He gave me opportunities to share the gospel, and He multiplied my time so I could do my project and also visit many of the people I taught, knew, and loved as a full-time missionary.
I felt so blessed that every morning and night I poured out my soul in gratitude to my Father for the chance to be there. Throughout the day I prayed in my heart, thanking Him when my plans went smoothly. And when they didn’t go smoothly, I thanked Him for the plan He had for me instead, which usually ended up being a better one anyway.
One day on the trip, I sat pondering my experiences. I wondered why Heavenly Father was helping me so much. The thought came clearly to my mind: “It is because you are being grateful.” That day I learned that sometimes gratitude precedes the blessing. The more grateful I was, the more I could recognize the blessings I received and appreciate the lessons I learned from difficulties. And the more I recognized the blessings and lessons, the more I had to be grateful for.16

If an obnoxious weed tucked deep in a flower bed seems to heave a smug sigh of relief when the local teenager shows up to mow the grass—because, hey, a teenager coming to do a quick job is no big threat to its existence, right?—then that moment of satisfaction is going to be short-lived if 13-year-old Nathan D. is the one behind the mower.
Nathan started mowing lawns for his neighbors in 2012. He knows how to keep customers happy, in part because he believes in not merely doing the job right but also in doing a bit more than is required.
Once he turns off the mower at a job, he double-checks the lawn. “Make sure everything is done right and that you haven’t missed any spots,” he advises to others interested in lawn care.
After that, it’s time for the little something extra. “Before leaving the job you’ve done,” Nathan says, “look for some extra things that wouldn’t take much time to do.” Pulling stray weeds is one of his favorites.
As a result of his income, Nathan has also learned great budgeting skills. Now in his second year of mowing lawns, Nathan has been able to buy school clothes and save for a mission.

Let me share two experiences that illustrate how the Master’s sacrifice and the knowledge of the merciful plan of our Heavenly Father helped Latter-day Saints cope with great sorrow:

We were attending Sunday meetings at a black branch outside of Cape Town South Africa. I invited several members to bear testimony. One of them was a lovely middle aged sister who told of the death of her husband a year earlier in an automobile accident. She expressed her gratitude for the sealing powers of the priesthood.

A few days later we met with all of the missionaries in the Johannesburg South Africa mission. I invited about eight missionaries to speak. As one elder was talking it became clear that he was the son of the sister in the small branch near Cape Town. After the meeting I told him how impressed I was with his mother and then said: "I am sorry you have lost your father". He responded: "I have not lost my father for I am sealed to him. He is mine and I am his forever.”

Paper stars. I am half Thai and half American. I spent three years living in Laos, next to Thailand. For the first two years we were in Laos, my parents hired a pileang, or nanny, named Rojana, who took good care of me. Since she was Buddhist, I didn’t expect a gift from her at Christmas.
On Christmas morning I found a jar filled with at least a hundred tiny paper stars, folded so they were three-dimensional. They were blue and pink and glittery. Rojana had no money to buy me anything, so she spent hours folding those stars for a child who wasn’t her own.
It was a wonderful Christmas gift, a gift of time and dedication.Faye H., Virginia

As a high school junior I stood proudly before the small Protestant congregation and delivered an address entitled “Meeting Life’s Requirements.” Following the service, the church members greeted me in the courtyard, offering encouragement for my future religious endeavors. At home that day, I peacefully strolled in the crisp, autumn weather, contemplating the future and thinking to myself, “Maybe I should become a minister.”
It wasn’t the first time I had been before the church body, nor would it be the last. My religious interests developed early in life, and my infatuation with religion was enhanced because of the panic I felt about the prospect of a judgment day. In the introduction to a school paper on the clergy I wrote, “At the end of my freshman year in high school I began to consider the clergy as a profession.” I was at that time anticipating several years in college and theological seminary.
The stage was set, and my high school years were highly successful: student-body president, all-state football player, outstanding band member, and more. But some dramatic changes occurred in my life. The following statements are from my journal and tell the story.
Senior Year, High School—While investigating several churches to learn more about Christianity, I have discovered that some churches do not require extremely long periods of schooling to qualify as a minister. I have just spent several days at a Bible college and learned that if I attend this school I can be ordained a minister after four years. Perhaps after two years, I will be assigned a church of my own in which to officiate. The classes are interesting and Christian oriented.
A Short Time Later—I am planning on attending next year and have turned down a basketball scholarship because of these plans. The only thing that bothers me is that I sense something missing at the college as well as in my personal life. How long will it take to find peace of mind?
Locker Room Prayers—I asked Coach Landrum tonight if we could have prayer before our football games. We all just repeated the Lord’s Prayer, but we are united as a team. We don’t pray to win but to have the strength to be men on the field—using good sportsmanship, wishing no physical injury to either team, winning in the column of character and determination.
A Later Note: I played on many winning teams in elementary and high school. Never did I play on a team as united, as spirited, as our football team this year. It may be secondary that this was the first unbeaten, untied football season in our school’s history.
Approaching Graduation—Religion is becoming so distant that I’m not sure what to do. I pray but can’t interpret any answers. Still, a guilty feeling seems inborn in my soul. I’m bothered when I do wrong. Yet despite my conservative nature I take a drink or cigarette now and then.
Priorities—After I took my first drink the kids at school were more concerned about its effect on my basketball playing than they were about the effect it would have on my religious objectives.
Change of Plans—I just received a football scholarship (and a band scholarship) to Dodge City College. I don’t want to go to school this close to home, but financially it’s my only choice. I missed out on other scholarship offers previously when I was set on becoming a minister. Those plans will wait.
Summer—I’ve moved away from home now and am working at the Dodge City Recreation Center and playing American Legion baseball. It’s not unusual to work all day, go on road games, return home at 2 A.M. and get up at 7 A.M. to go to work.
Miss the Boat—This summer has been unusual. I have gone to church little. I read a lot and write a great deal. But it does seem sort of empty not gathering with people. Religion seems to miss the boat, but maybe so am I.
The Bible—I still tinker with the idea of Bible school education because I can have a pastorate of my own very early. I commented once in Sunday School that we need to return to preaching the Bible. One fellow disputed my claim saying that ministers needed to apply contemporary terms and up-to-date interpretations. But that adds to my confusion—everyone in church hierarchies has a different opinion as to those contemporary meanings.
Tsai Lee-Yueh—I now have a daughter! Tsai Lee-Yueh is her name. I’ve felt lately that while I’m experiencing this transition period I must do something for God on my own. So now I am paying several dollars to Christian Children’s Fund each month to help my foster daughter, Tsai Lee-Yueh, a little Taiwanese girl. I received a letter from her with an English translation. She and some of her friends were given individual Bibles. She wrote, “I don’t know that the Bible is such a precious thing. After the caseworker has taught us how to study the Bible, I know it is a precious book. I feel very happy.” Such a statement would put most Americans to shame.
College Begins—I still pray sometimes. A few times I have said, “Show me the way, Lord, if there is one for me.”
Semester Ends—My first semester of college has ended and I’m on the Honor Roll. Last night I lay in my bed thinking how little time I really devoted to my studies. I laughed to myself and thought, “I did this and all without God.”
A Mormon Girl—I met a Mormon girl the other night. My internal response was, “What’s a Mormon?” I’ve delved into many religions but admit an ignorance to this one.
Book of Mormon—I just spent the weekend with Mom, Dad, and Bill on the farm. I asked Mom if she knew anything about Mormons. She said she thought there was a pamphlet in the bookcase. She found it and an old black, hardback book. I’m reading it now—the Book of Mormon. Mother said it was a Mormon Bible.
After the Carnival—Janet’s the first girl I’ve dated with any regularity in at least six months. Tonight, after our date to my brother’s class carnival, we were talking and the subject of religion came up. I told her about my indefinite plans for the ministry and added, “There’s something wrong with every church.”
With confidence and spontaneity she replied, “Not mine.”
“Oh, sure, you tell me about it,” I answered unalarmed. She isn’t the first girl that has wanted me to be interested in a particular church. But she definitely has a sparkle of purity, a twinkle in her eye.
I told her that I had been studying the Book of Mormon, and she suggested that I talk to the elders. I told her I’d like to sometime.
Following Monday—The strangest thing happened this evening. I work every night at the recreation center, but today when I called in, Mr. Braddock told me they didn’t need me tonight. Studies didn’t appeal to me, so I called Jan about a date and she told me to come over to her house. The elders were coming. The meeting was already set up before I called her, but on any other Monday night I would definitely have had to work.
The Meeting—There we were in her living room. Any minute I expected old men in gray beards and maybe black hats to knock at the door. They rang the bell instead, and was I surprised when the elders turned out to be two young men close to my own age.
Tonight was a spiritual experience. I guess I answered all the questions with the answers they wanted. They said something about planning my baptism for April 27. I’ve never met two people more sincere than Elder Johnson and Elder Towsey.
Dad Knew Mormons—I brought a signed statement from my dad to the elders giving his approval for my baptism. He used to know some Latter-day Saints. He said you have to be a missionary if you join their church.
My Interview—I was interviewed tonight for baptism. It was a relief to find that the elders had only kidded me about taking a written test. I read the pamphlets a few extra times so I wouldn’t be tripped up. I told the district leader that the discussions were like the lifting of a veil, like I had heard the story before. The gospel contains many teachings that I have come to believe over the years, such as a literal, tangible, concerned Heavenly Father. I took the discussions so fast that I have to wait till my assigned baptismal date.
April 27—I was baptized tonight. My family attended the service, as did many of the branch members. This is the cleanest feeling I have known in my entire life. The warm, friendly attitude of the members here is still one of the amazing things about this church.
Few Will Listen—I thought of dozens of my friends who would surely join the Church now. They just needed to learn about it as I had. It’s not like that. I know that most of my friends respect me very much for my high standards, but others leave me asking, as did the Apostle Paul, “Am I therefore become your enemy, because I tell you the truth?” (Gal. 4:16).
Mother’s Day—Dad accepted my invitation and brought Mom out to the branch’s Mother’s Day program today. Bill came too. After sacrament meeting, I went with the elders to my parents’ home for a missionary lesson. After the first discussion Elder Johnson tried to make an appointment to come again and teach my family.
“How about right now?” Mom asked.
So the second lesson was given. Dad had to leave then to do the farm chores. Mom quickly prepared some sandwiches and salads for the elders and our family. About an hour later Dad came back in and ate, and the third lesson was given. Three in one night!
July 27—Tonight I baptized my family. It is three months to the day since I joined the Church. Our family is finally united. As I brought Mom up out of the water, she embraced me and shed tears of joy. We are recipients of life’s greatest blessings.
Youth Conference—My first youth conference just ended, and on the final day I bore my testimony, thanking God that a girl lived the gospel so completely that I found a noticeable, attracting difference between her and other young people, thus leading me to the gospel. I encouraged my other young brothers and sisters to do the same. The gospel works.
A Mission Call—I’m so excited! I came home from classes today to find a letter from the First Presidency. Quickly opening it I discovered that I would be going to California. I wept joyously. Feeling so insignificant in His sight, I asked, “Why me?” The blessings of God seem so unbelievable.
Most Important—My first two years of college have been highly successful, but the most important thing is that I was going off 400 miles away to a Bible college, but circumstances intervened to allow me to discover the truth 13 miles from home. Now, in a week, I will leave on a mission to serve the Lord. I will be a minister.
Temple Sealing—Mom, Dad, and I were sealed as a family today in the Logan Temple for time and all eternity. Bill was still in school back in Kansas.
Temple Marriage—Elder Tuttle married Jan and me this morning in the Salt Lake Temple. Today was even more special because Bill was finally sealed to Mom and Dad. In addition, Mom’s cousins from Missouri were also sealed for time and eternity in the Lord’s house. Mother played a large role in their conversion.
September 3—Our first child, Jill Ann, was born today. Ours for eternity.
Another Baptism—Twenty years ago, Jan’s mother joined the Church. Today, October 9, her father was baptized. A very righteous and faithful man, he has helped the Church on numerous occasions, and served as Scoutmaster. Janet has been shedding tears of joy since her mother called to relay the good news earlier today.
“Now therefore ye are no more strangers and foreigners, but fellowcitizens with the saints, and of the household of God;
“And are built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief cornerstone” (Eph. 2:19–20).