Gospel Story Finder

Like my parents, I needed courage to live the gospel. I spent one year as a soldier in the German army. Most of the soldiers used bad language, smoked, and did other things I knew I should not do. Sometimes I felt alone, but I always tried to keep Heavenly Father’s standards. My officers respected my commitment and allowed me time off to participate in Church activities.
On the last night of a soldier’s service, the soldier and his friends would drink a lot of alcohol and have a rowdy party. I thought and prayed about what I should do when my last night came. When it did, I told the group of soldiers serving with me, “Let’s do something that has never been done before.” We dressed in our best suits and went to say a quiet good-bye to our army leaders. Our major couldn’t believe it. I felt that Heavenly Father had guided me to find an answer to my problem. Looking back, I can see that the greatest blessings in my life have come by following the counsel of prophets and keeping God’s commandments.

Ten-year-old Olivia curled upon her side and tried to go back to sleep, even though she knew that it would be impossible. After all, it was Christmas, 1843. Well, just barely, Olivia thought as she counted the twelve chimes that echoed softly from her mother’s clock.
Last Christmas, she’d lived far away in Leek, England. Then Grandpa Rushton had listened to the missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. “These men speak the truth,” he’d said. Three months later, Olivia and her entire family were baptized along with Grandpa and Grandma.
Leaving England to join the Saints in America had been a very hard decision. Would Grandpa be able to sell his silk business? What would Papa do? Would Baby James get sick and die like Mama’s other baby? And what about Grandma Lettice? Olivia would have been terrified to leave her home if she were blind like Grandma.
After a lot of prayer and asking the Lord, Papa knew that they needed to follow the counsel of the Prophet Joseph Smith and join the Saints in Zion.
And now it was Christmas, even though Christmas in Nauvoo was very different from Christmas in England. There, everyone enjoyed crackling Yule logs, the singing of carols, and the exchanging of presents. In Nauvoo, many people didn’t celebrate the day at all. Mama said that it was because of their religious customs before they joined the Church. But that didn’t seem like a very good reason to Olivia. If only we could have Christmas like we did in England! she thought with a sigh.
Just then, she heard muffled voices by the front door. Olivia slid out of bed and tiptoed across the cold floor. “Mama?”
Her mother and father were bundled up!
“Where are you going, Mama?”
“What are you doing up, Olivia?” Mama whispered. “You should be in bed.”
“I couldn’t sleep—and then I heard you.”
“Well, go back to bed,” Mama said. “Grandma Lettice asked us to go singing with her.”
“Singing? Now? May I come, too?”
“It’s cold outside,” Papa said.
“I don’t mind,” Olivia replied. “Please?”
Mama and Papa exchanged glances. “Well, all right,” Papa said. “But you’ll have to dress quickly. We don’t want to be late.”
Olivia changed into her warmest clothes, then followed her parents into the chilly darkness. The cold stung her face like an angry slap, and her breath turned into puffy clouds. “Where are we going?” she asked. “Are we going to sing a song I know?”
“You’ll see,” Mama said.
Just as she was wondering how much farther she’d have to walk, she saw her aunts and uncles, Grandma Lettice, and several neighbors gathered together outside the Mansion House at the corner of Main and Water Streets.
The Prophet’s house! Olivia caught her breath. Are we going to sing to the Prophet? she wondered.
“All right, everyone,” Grandma Lettice whispered. “Just as we rehearsed it.”
For a split second, Olivia wondered if it had been a mistake to come—she hadn’t rehearsed anything. But in only two notes, Olivia realized that she did know the song. It was one of the songs in Sister Smith’s new hymnal. She took a deep breath and sang with the rest of the carolers.
“Mortals, awake! with angels join,
And chant the solemn lay;
Love, joy and gratitude combine
To hail th’ auspicious day.”*
Soon lights flickered to life, and windows of the Mansion House opened. The Prophet Joseph Smith, his family, and all of his boarders looked out.
“Who’s singing?” someone asked.
“How lovely,” whispered another.
“Are there angels outside?”
Although Olivia wasn’t an angel, she certainly felt like one as a wave of warmth spread from the top of her head to the very tips of her toes. How happy the Prophet looks, she thought.
When they’d finished, Olivia was certain that she saw tears in the Prophet’s eyes as he thanked them for their beautiful serenade and blessed them in the name of the Lord.
“Merry Christmas,” Olivia called as the singers left. She decided that she didn’t want to be back in England, after all. She belonged here with her family, the restored Church, and the Lord’s prophet. She couldn’t think of a better Christmas gift.

On September 11, 2001, the twin towers of the World Trade Center in New York City were hit by terrorist-controlled airliners that caused both towers to collapse. Thousands of people were killed. Out of this tragedy have come hundreds of stories of courageous, unselfish acts. One very poignant and heroic account is the Washington Post’s story of retired army Colonel Cyril “Rick” Rescorla, who was working as vice president for corporate security of Morgan Stanley Dean Witter.
Rick was a very experienced ex-military combat leader. He was in his office when “the first plane struck the north tower at 8:48 A.M. … He took a call from the 71st floor reporting the fireball in One World Trade Center, and he immediately ordered an evacuation of all 2,700 employees in Building Two,” as well as 1,000 more in Building Five. Using his bullhorn, he moved up the floors, working through a bottleneck on the 44th and going as high as the 72nd, helping to evacuate the people from each floor. One friend who saw Rick reassuring people in the 10th-floor stairwell told him, “Rick, you’ve got to get out, too.”
“As soon as I make sure everyone else is out,” he replied.
“He was not rattled at all. He was putting the lives of his colleagues ahead of his own.” He called headquarters to say he was going back up to search for stragglers.
His wife had watched the United Airlines jet go through his tower. “After a while, her phone rang. It was Rick.
“‘I don’t want you to cry,’ he said. ‘I have to evacuate my people now.’
“She kept sobbing.
“‘If something happens to me, I want you to know that you made my life.’
“The phone went dead.” Rick did not make it out.
“Morgan Stanley lost only six of its 2,700 employees in the south tower on Sept. 11, an isolated miracle amid the carnage. And company officials say Rescorla deserves most of the credit. He drew up the evacuation plan. He hustled his colleagues to safety. And then he apparently went back into the inferno to search for stragglers. He was the last man out of the south tower after the World Trade Center bombing in 1993, and no one seems to doubt that he would’ve been again last month if the skyscraper hadn’t collapsed on him first.”
Amid the great evil and carnage of September 11, 2001, Rick was not looking for what might be in it for him; instead he was unselfishly thinking about others and the danger they were in. Rick Rescorla was the “right man in the right place at the right time.” Rick, “a 62-year-old mountain of a man cooly [sacrificed] his life for others.” As the Savior Himself said, “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.”

I remember a cold winter evening as I was on radio car patrol on the east side of Salt Lake. Suddenly the silence was broken by the beep, beep, beep of an emergency radio call. “Car 16,” came the dispatcher’s voice. “Such and such an address, 9–40.” Nine-forty was a police code meaning unknown trouble. It might be a cat in a tree, family fight, lost child, or even a homicide. Calls like this were always tense because you just didn’t know what to expect.
I arrived at the address, an old two-story home surrounded by a rickety picket fence. I made my way toward the front porch along a broken and weed-choked sidewalk. The paint was peeling off the house, and it looked like it could have been the scene for a good Halloween movie. I knocked on the door, and as I did, it came partially ajar. There was no sound. I pushed the door open a little wider and cautiously poked my head inside. “Hello. Did anyone here call the police?” No answer. I opened the door wider and stepped inside.
I found myself in a small vestibule, no more than four feet square. It was nearly dark inside and smelled of a strange and musty odor. To my left was a narrow and steep stairway going to the second floor. “Hello,” I called again. “Is anybody there?” This time I heard a sound. It wasn’t much of a sound, just a quiet sound like a sob. The beam of my flashlight cut through the gloom as I pointed it up the stairway toward the sound.
There, huddled miserably on the bare wooden stair, was a young girl. She was barefoot and poorly dressed, with long, straggly hair. Her eyes were red, and I could see she had been crying hard. Her breath came in gasps, and I inquired again concerning the call for help. “Did you call the police?” All she could do was sob and point through the open doorway at the top of the stairs.
I made my way past the girl and entered into a scene of true desolation and tragedy. The room was small. No carpet covered the bare wooden floor. It was littered with the obvious signs of drugs and alcohol. Empty beer cans were strewn about, and evidence of marijuana was everywhere. Lying in the center of the floor was a young man. A dark pool of blood surrounded his head, and near his lifeless fingers lay a small, shiny revolver. I was heartsick as I called for assistance and began the investigation of a terrible tragedy.
I share this experience to emphasize again the fickle nature of the friends that Satan might send to tempt you to take part in such parties as these. We learned from our investigation that there had been 20 to 30 young people at the party. The gun was a plaything, and a game of Russian roulette seemed exciting to those using drugs and alcohol. No one expected to be hurt, yet tragedy struck and a young man’s life was lost. No friends stayed behind to help. No friends even did anything to comfort the one who did stay—the sister of the poor dead boy.

We all need to know what it means to be honest. Honesty is more than not lying. It is truth telling, truth speaking, truth living, and truth loving. Another example of honesty comes from a nine-year-old Swiss pioneer child named John, who crossed the plains in one of the handcart companies.
His father put a chunk of buffalo meat in the handcart and said it was to be saved for Sunday dinner. John said, “I was so very hungry and the meat smelled so good to me while pushing at the handcart that I could not resist. I had a little pocket knife. … Although I expected a severe whipping when father found it out, I cut off little pieces each day. I would chew them so long that they got white and perfectly tasteless. When father came to get the meat he asked me if I had been cutting off some of it. I said ‘Yes. I was so hungry I could not let it alone.’ Instead of giving me a scolding or whipping, father turned away and wiped tears from his eyes” (in LeRoy R. Hafen and Ann W. Hafen, Handcarts to Zion, 1960, 189–90).

As I sat contemplating an upcoming Church assignment, I became more and more apprehensive about my ability to do well. I needed help, so I began to pray. Much to my surprise, tears began to flow as I remembered an incident that had happened many years before.
The memory of that experience calmed me with the assurance that, like my earthly father, my Heavenly Father felt I had great ability and would do just fine. If I would stay calm and not worry about failure, he would be able to inspire me.
Confident once more, I thanked Him for giving me a father whose love and concern has helped me begin to comprehend our Heavenly Father’s love.

When I was a little boy, Christmas was not as meaningful to me as it was to other children because of the very modest economic situation of my parents. In our country, Haiti, it was, and still is, a tradition for parents with the financial means to place one or more gifts under the pillow of their children on Christmas Eve. When the morning came, my brothers, my sisters and myself would read the joy on the faces of other children while sadness was clearly on ours. Personally, I used to wonder if Santa favored those children more than he cared for us. He gave more toys, I thought, to those who already had while he forgot about us poor children who never received a gift during this special time!
But as I grew up, I realized that Christmas was more than just gifts. By becoming a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I have instead learned that Christmas is a time of sharing, joy, love, compassion, gratitude and charity. For it is in the true spirit of Christmas that Our Heavenly Father, in His divine love, has given us His precious Son, Jesus Christ, as a gift for the well-being of all mankind.
Today, as an adult, I no longer have to look for a gift under my pillow on Christmas Eve because, thanks to the restored gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ, I am constantly blessed with this gift that illuminates each of my steps and those of my family. Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles invites us to follow Christ and to become His disciples: “During this Christmas season and throughout the entire year, may we seek with our hearts and souls our beloved Savior, the Prince of Peace, the Holy One of Israel. For this desire, in large part, defines not only who we are as members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, but even more who we really are as Christ’s disciples.1”

Cathy has always found time to accomplish her goals. She has helped with political campaigns and even served as a page in her state legislature. She attended seminary for four years. (“It really helped me gain a testimony,” said Cathy.) She took modeling classes for several years, and her teacher encouraged her to enter the Miss Teen North Carolina Hemisphere competition.
“I won the state competition, so I competed in the nationals, which were held in Philadelphia and included the western hemisphere—Guam, Canada, the U.S., and the Bahamas,” Cathy said.
“I learned that it wasn’t that important to be beautiful. I just wanted to put on my jeans and be myself, but for 24 hours a day I was there fixing my hair and putting on lipstick, and I’m just not used to doing that much. You couldn’t go out of your door unless you were all dressed up, and that’s just not for me.
“I really enjoyed entertaining others for the competition, though, and it helped me develop a talent I didn’t think I had. I’d always taken ballet, but I realized I needed another talent to win the state competition. I told my mom, ‘I’ve got to sing!’ She smiled and said, ‘You can’t sing.’ And I said, ‘Well, I’m just going to have to learn.’ So I took lessons and practiced, and I won the contest. I realize now that I can sing and not be embarrassed. I met some nice people in the pageant, too.”

Among many very good deeds, Hilda was largely responsible for gathering the whole of Joe’s offspring as a family. In late 1952, Joe, Hilda, John, and I went to Southern Rhodesia, and siblings Gwen, Peter and Sue were taken out of the Fairbridge home, located near Bulawayo in the south, to join the rest of us now located in what was Salisbury, the capital. We were all together in the one home for a precious two years. Then, due to concerns about space in our three-bedroomed Rhodesia-Railways-provided house, Gwen left to live in a special establishment set up to house young single women.
Those years in colonial Rhodesia were wonderful, especially for John and me. As youngsters we lived a largely outdoor life, often running around barefoot and getting up to mischief, but mostly creatively (building platforms in trees; forming rowing boats from corrugated metal sheets — usually used for roofing purposes; fabricating catapults from carefully chosen branches of trees and rubber strips from old car-tyre inner tubes, and bows that we used to shoot arrows made from dried elephant grass with pins in their heads and chicken feathers as fletching). Hilda was always around to attend to our injuries, and provide as best she could for us, including repairing clothing.

Elder Delbert L. Stapley, who served for many years as a General Authority, once told about an incident that occurred when he arrived in the Southern States Mission. Charles A. Callis was the mission president. Shortly after Elder Stapley arrived in Atlanta, President Callis told him that they were catching a train together that would take the young elder to his field of labor.
The train stopped in a very small community and the bags were unloaded. They were transferred to a buggy. There was only room for two riders, the driver and one passenger. President Callis climbed up on the seat beside the driver and asked Elder Stapley to follow on foot.
The horse and buggy kicked up the dust as Elder Stapley walked along behind. He said he began to resent his new mission president. The farther he walked and the more the dust was raised, the more he came to dislike his mission president. He felt he was losing respect for this leader.
After he had walked a mile, however, the president had the driver stop. Then President Callis traded places with Elder Stapley and he walked for two miles.
“I grew to love him more with every step,” Elder Stapley recalled. “I thought he was about the greatest man who had lived.”

Giving a Priesthood Blessing
“In 1878 my great-grandfather George F. Richards was 17 years of age. As was sometimes the case in those days, he had already been ordained an elder. One Sunday his mother was groaning in intense pain. As his father was not available, the bishop and several others were invited to give her a blessing, but no relief came. Accordingly, she turned to her son George and asked him to lay hands on her head. He wrote in his diary, ‘In the midst of my tears for my mother’s suffering and the task of performing an administration such as I had never yet done, I retired to another room where I wept and prayed.’
“When he became composed, he laid his hands on her and gave her a very simple blessing. He later noted, ‘My mother ceased her groaning and received relief from her suffering while my hands were yet on her head.’ He then recorded in his diary [that he] felt that the reason his mother did not get relief from the bishop’s blessing was not because the Lord failed to honor the bishop’s blessing but because the Lord had reserved this blessing for a boy, to teach him a lesson that the priesthood in the boy is just as powerful as the priesthood in the man when exercised in righteousness.”
Elder Tad R. Callister of the Presidency of the Seventy

When I was 17, I worked at an inn in Kailua-Kona, Hawaii, USA. Working as a bellhop, I saw many famous people as guests of the hotel, including John Wayne, Dorothy L’Amour, and Esther Williams.
One evening, after most of the guests had arrived, I was taking a break at the front of the hotel when a black limousine stopped at the curb and seven men got out, dressed in black pants, white shirts, and ties. Another man in a black suit accompanied them. After the driver parked their car, all of them went into the dining room for dinner. I thought they looked like FBI agents as I went back inside to continue my duties answering room-service calls.
About an hour later, I was outside the hotel smoking a cigarette while the group I had seen earlier came back out to return to their limo, which was waiting at the curb. They went down the walkway to the car and opened the rear door to allow the black-suited man to get in. But instead of entering the car, the black-suited man stopped, turned around to look at me leaning against the building, and walked up to me.
He was tall and thin, with wire-rimmed glasses and a small white goatee. He extended his hand to shake mine and put his other hand on my shoulder. I was struck that such a distinguished-looking man would come and talk to me, a young man he didn’t even know.
I cannot recall all the words he spoke to me other than to say that “those things are bad for you,” referring to my cigarette. His kindness and demeanor made quite an impression on me.
Over a year later I took discussions from the missionaries and was baptized.
While looking through pictures of leaders of the Church, I noticed a picture of President George Albert Smith (1870–1951) and recognized him immediately as the kind and distinguished man I’d met in front of the inn. I was even more impressed that the President of the Church would do such a thing to someone like me, a boy who wasn’t even a member of the Church and of no particular importance.
What a great man he was to show such love and concern for a young boy working in an unnoticed position and having no understanding of the gospel or our Heavenly Father’s love for us.
Sixty-five years later, I have a great understanding of that care and love, and I strive to see those around me as President Smith saw me.

I know of another young man who recently returned from Vietnam. He told of the close bond of love in his family. He said, “My buddies tried to persuade me to go into Saigon and ‘live it up.’ This went on day after day, but I kept thinking of my family and their influence and the memories of our family home evenings and of my patriarchal blessing. It seemed to give me the courage I needed to resist them.”
He then said, “I got out my blessing and read it and reread it. It promised me a temple marriage if I was worthy. After a while, my buddies were impressed with my conviction. They started to respect me and then wanted to know more.”

In 1914 he spent the first year of his Central States mission traveling, relying on the good will of the people for his bed and a meal each night. He was made president of the East Missouri conference, in charge of 25 missionaries. According to his records, he personally contacted 3,800 nonmembers during the first half of 1916. Even his piano-playing skills were useful. Tracting one day in St. Louis he noticed a piano in a home. “It’s a Kimball, isn’t it?” he asked a woman who was closing the door. “That’s my name too. I could play a song on it for you that you might like to hear.” She let him in, and he played and sang, “O My Father.”

“I know the Church is true because when I pray, He answers,” says Nicole, who is 10. “When I ask Him for help, He helps me.”
Nicole tells about a time when her friend got very sick and the doctors decided to fly her to Peru’s capital city, Lima, because they didn’t know how to treat her. “I didn’t want her to go because she was my best friend,” Nicole says. “I asked Heavenly Father to bless her. He heard my prayer, and she was healed.”

Some years ago, I was consulted by a woman who desired a divorce from her husband on grounds which, in my opinion, were justified. After the divorce was concluded, I did not see her again for many years. A chance meeting with her on the street was very surprising. The years of loneliness and discouragement were evident in her once beautiful face.
After passing a few pleasantries, she was quick to say that life had not been rich and rewarding for her and that she was tired of facing the struggle alone. Then came a most startling disclosure, which, with her permission, I share. She said, “Bad as it was, if I had to do it over again, knowing what I do now, I would not have sought the divorce. This is worse.”

Oh no—a roadblock! Is there anything more frustrating? There you are, running through life at a good, strong pace, when suddenly, something completely out of your control appears and it stops you dead in your tracks.
When you come to that kind of a roadblock, you have three choices. You can wander around whining about it, you can ditch that path completely and give up, or you can find some way to get around it.
Meet Ed Eyestone, whose distance running has broken both world and national records. He attained his championship status by conditioning himself to run right around any roadblocks that got in his way.
Today, Olympic medalists and international record holders fear Ed’s presence at track meets and road races all over the world. Ed’s main event is the 10K, or 10,000-kilometer run, but not long ago he set a new 5K world road racing record. In between his grueling workout and racing schedule, Ed manages to squeeze in masters degree studies at Brigham Young University.
The road to his current position hasn’t been a smooth one, though. There have been numerous obstacles along the way. And the interesting thing is that the lean, six-foot-one runner never emphasizes those problems. If you ask him about his career, he’ll tell you, “I guess I’ve just really been blessed.”
As a matter of fact, Ed became involved in track in the first place by going over a roadblock. When he was in seventh grade in Ogden, Utah, he desperately wanted to be involved in sports and tried out for the junior high baseball team. He was disappointed when he didn’t make the team, but instead of giving up on sports altogether, he decide to go out for track.
Ed began running the mile, and while he beat everyone at his school, he wasn’t the best in town. He plodded along through eighth, ninth, and tenth grade winning his share of victories, but “there was no real indication that I would be that good,” he said.
“Then in the summer between my sophomore and junior year, I don’t know what happened. Maybe I finally went through puberty, but I started beating everybody in cross-country.” His times went down. His reputation went up, and it looked like he would win the state championship.
But along came another roadblock. This time it was in the form of a stress fracture in his foot— diagnosed three weeks before the state finals. The same thing happened in his senior year.
At that point, the obstacle he faced was called discouragement. “It seemed like every time I was doing really well, I would come down with an injury. I began to think that if I was going to be injured every six months and wear a cast around, I didn’t know if it was really worth it.”
But the “glimpses that I might do well,” were what got him over that roadblock. “I wasn’t ready to trash my spikes yet,” he said. “I had run well in my senior year and I had an offer to come to BYU anyway, so I thought I’d go down to Provo to see how I’d do.”
That was a wise decision. Ed gained a seed in the World Cross-Country Championships in Paris and managed to finish third. He was unaware at the time that that race would later affect his mission.
In the meantime, however, Ed had set his sights on All-America status as a freshman in college. To be All-America, you have to finish in the top six among collegiate athletes at the National Collegiate Athletic Association (NCAA) finals. It was an ambitious goal, but Ed’s times weren’t too far off, and, if he worked hard enough, he saw no reason why he couldn’t reach it.
He came close to reaching that goal, too, but another roadblock popped up. The finals were held in Austin, Texas, right in the middle of one of the severest heat waves on record. Ed, however, was paying more attention to the race than to the heat. He was running the 10K, which is 25 laps around the track, and about halfway through, he was in the sixth position, which is exactly where he wanted to be. Suddenly, one of the runners in front of him started to wobble, then passed out on the side of the track from heat prostration.
Ed was now in the number five position. If he could hold it, he’d be an All-American in his freshman year for sure. Then, with about three laps to go, Ed felt the two runners behind him begin to gain on him. He knew he couldn’t let them pass, and he exerted all the effort he could to stay ahead. But suddenly, “everything went fuzzy around the edges, and instead of running straight, I was running to the left and to the right. I was doing what the guy in front of me had been doing before he dropped out. I guess I was feeling the effect of the heat. I don’t remember much after that, but a half a lap later I was dragged off the track by my coach and a few teammates, and I remember waking up in the training room in a tub of cold water with some ice in it. I went back to my hotel room just thinking that I blew it,” he said.
But this time there was a hand outstretched, waiting to help him over that particular barrier. “One of my coaches came by to talk,” Ed relates.
The coach was also a rancher and said, “Ed, I’ve worked a lot with runners, and I’ve worked a lot with animals, and I just want you to know that today you ran like a horse.”
“I didn’t exactly know how to take that,” Ed confided, “but then the coach explained, ‘You can take a good mule out and work with it, and it will do what you want it to until it gets tired. Then it will just sit down. And you can kick it and beat it and do whatever, but until it’s good and rested, it’s not going to budge. But you can take a good horse, and that horse will work for you until it drops over from exhaustion. Today, you ran like a horse, Ed.’
“I learned a great lesson that can be applied in jobs or studies or any aspect of life, really,” Ed relates. He realized that the endurance to follow a job through and give your all is more important than the final outcome. It’s the ultimate effort you put into anything that makes it worthwhile.
Ed would go on to become an All-American ten times before his college career was over. But that path was not to be a smooth one either. At the end of his freshman year, another opportunity arose that the world might consider a roadblock, but that Ed considers one of the greatest blessings of his life. He turned 19—time to serve a mission.
He was called to serve in Barcelona, Spain, and ran off to the mission field without giving track a second thought—except when he used his knowledge and experience to interest members of Spanish track clubs in the gospel. It was under these circumstances that he once again met up with Jorge Garcia, the winner of the world cross-country meet in Paris. Jorge listened to several discussions, and though he wasn’t baptized, “he has a positive attitude about the Church,” Ed says.
Ed did very little running on his mission, but when he returned, his career seemed to improve with each race. He applied the “patience and perseverance” he’d learned in the mission field to his running. By the time the national finals rolled around in his senior year, his times were good enough to garner his second cross-country championship and he was expected to win both the 5 and 10K events.
But a week before the national championships, something that could have proved to be the biggest roadblock of all obstructed his path. Ed’s older brother Robert was killed in a boating accident.
“It’s tough to deal with death,” Ed commented. “Even for us, with the knowledge we have of what lies hereafter, it’s still hard. Knowing that we’re not going to be able to see that loved one or be with them or share their many talents is a loss, no matter how strong a testimony you have. You just have to pull together as a family. And the knowledge that someday you will be together again, even though you won’t see them for a long time, helps.
“The only thing that kept me going through it was that I knew deep down inside that my brother would be disappointed if I didn’t run,” Ed added.
Ed did run, and finished the NCAA finals first in both events.
Since his collegiate running career ended, Ed graduated with honors from BYU in psychology and is certified to teach high school. He minored in Spanish and coaching. His education continues as he works on his masters in health promotion and corporate fitness. He plans on getting his PhD.
He also plans to continue winning races for about the next ten years. When not in class, Ed is working out twice a day. Most of his weekends are spent running races all over the country, and during the summer he spends several weeks running in Europe. He takes advantage of trips to do missionary work, trying to fulfill his father’s challenge of giving away a Book of Mormon every time he travels.
Ed took advantage of a track opportunity to place a Book of Mormon in some of the most prominent hands in the world. He and fellow LDS runner Farley Gerber were competing in the World University Games in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada. They were excited to see that Prince Charles and Lady Diana were there as dignitaries, and even more excited to learn that the royal couple would be greeting the athletes individually. Ed and Farley decided it wouldn’t hurt to present them with a copy of the Book of Mormon, so they wrote their testimonies in one and presented it to the prince when it was their turn to shake his hand.
“He was very cordial about the whole thing,” Ed recalls. “He said, ‘Oh, you chaps are Mormons, are you? So that’s what keeps you going.’ When he walked off, he tucked the Book of Mormon in the crook of his arm, and seeing him carrying it, if you didn’t know who he was you might have thought he was a representative of the Church,” Ed recalled.
Ed’s road for the next ten years seems clear. Among his goals are competition in at least two Olympics, and racing in a host of track events along the way. He never knows when roadblocks will obstruct his path, and really doesn’t think much about the ones behind him. In the meantime, he heeds his own advice to just keep trying. “In my career,” he says, “it seems that any successes that I have achieved have been through consistent training and have been very slow in coming. Most improvement has come on a long-term basis.”
Roadblocks, victories, whatever crosses his path, Ed is conditioned to take it in stride.

After graduation Franklin received an appointment to the U.S. Naval Academy at Annapolis, Maryland. He wondered if he accepted the appointment if he would ever serve a full-time mission. It was a difficult decision to make. Elder Richards said, “I think unknowingly I was following the advice of the Lord to Oliver Cowdery:

“‘Behold, I say unto you, that you must study it out in your mind; then you must ask me if it be right, and if it is right I will cause that your bosom shall burn within you; therefore, you shall feel that it is right’ (D&C 9:8).

“In effect, I was doing that. I thought about a mission and about my grandfather, and I wondered, Do I want to go to Annapolis or don’t I? So I studied it out, talked to several people, and reached the decision that I would prefer to go on a mission. I made it a matter of prayer, expressing my feelings to the Lord, and the Holy Ghost bore witness to me that my decision was right.”

After my wife, Anne, and I received a call to serve as full-time mission leaders, our family determined to learn each missionary’s name before arriving in the field. We obtained photos, created flash cards, and began studying faces and memorizing names.
Once we arrived, we held introductory conferences with the missionaries. As we mingled, I overheard our nine-year-old son:
“Nice to meet you, Sam!”
“Rachel, where are you from?”
“Wow, David, you’re tall!”
Alarmed, I went to our son and whispered, “Hey, let’s remember to refer to the missionaries as Elder or Sister.”
He gave me a puzzled look and said, “Dad, I thought we were supposed to memorize their names.” Our son did what he thought was right based on his understanding.
So, what is our understanding of truth in today’s world? We are constantly bombarded with strong opinions, biased reporting, and incomplete data. At the same time, the volume and sources of this information are proliferating. Our need to recognize truth has never been more important!
Truth is critical for us to establish and strengthen our relationship with God, find peace and joy, and reach our divine potential. Today, let us consider the following questions:
What is truth, and why is it important?
How do we find truth?
When we find truth, how can we share it?
The Lord has taught us in scripture that “truth is knowledge of things as they are, and as they were, and as they are to come” (Doctrine and Covenants 93:24). It “was not created or made” (Doctrine and Covenants 93:29) and has “no end” (Doctrine and Covenants 88:66). Truth is absolute, fixed, and immutable. In other words, truth is eternal.
Truth helps us avoid deception, discern good from evil, receive protection, and find comfort and healing. Truth can also guide our actions, make us free, sanctify us, and lead us to eternal life.
God reveals eternal truth to us through a network of revelatory relationships involving Himself, Jesus Christ, the Holy Ghost, prophets, and us. Let us discuss the distinct yet interconnected roles each participant plays in this process.
First, God is the source of eternal truth. He and His Son, Jesus Christ, have a perfect understanding of truth and always act in harmony with true principles and laws. This power allows Them to create and govern worlds as well as to love, guide, and nurture each one of us perfectly. They want us to understand and apply truth so we can enjoy the blessings They do. They may impart truth in person or, more typically, through messengers such as the Holy Ghost, angels, or living prophets.
Second, the Holy Ghost testifies of all truth. He reveals truths to us directly and witnesses of truth taught by others. Impressions from the Spirit typically come as thoughts to our minds and feelings to our hearts.
Third, prophets receive truth from God and share that truth with us. We learn the truth from past prophets in the scriptures and from living prophets at general conference and through other official channels.
Finally, you and I play a crucial role in this process. God expects us to seek, recognize, and act on truth. Our ability to receive and apply truth is dependent on the strength of our relationship with the Father and the Son, our responsiveness to the influence of the Holy Ghost, and our alignment with latter-day prophets.
We need to remember that Satan works to keep us from truth. He knows that without truth, we cannot gain eternal life. He weaves strands of truth with worldly philosophies to confuse us and distract us from what is communicated by God.
As we seek eternal truth, the following two questions can help us recognize whether a concept comes from God or from another source:
Is the concept taught consistently in the scriptures and by living prophets?
Is the concept confirmed by the witness of the Holy Ghost?
God reveals doctrinal truths through prophets, and the Holy Ghost confirms those truths to us and helps us apply them. We must seek and be prepared to receive these spiritual impressions when they come. We are most receptive to the witness of the Spirit when we are humble, pray sincerely and study God’s words, and keep His commandments.
Once the Holy Ghost confirms a specific truth to us, our understanding deepens as we put that principle into practice. Over time, as we consistently live the principle, we gain a sure knowledge of that truth.
For example, I have made mistakes and felt remorse for poor choices. But through prayer, study, and faith in Jesus Christ, I received a witness of the principle of repentance. As I continued to repent, my understanding of repentance grew stronger. I felt closer to God and His Son. I now know that sin can be forgiven through Jesus Christ, because I experience the blessings of repentance each day.
So, what should we do when we sincerely seek for truth not yet revealed? I have empathy for those of us who yearn for answers that do not seem to come.
To Joseph Smith, the Lord counseled, “Hold your peace until I shall see fit to make all things known … concerning the matter” (Doctrine and Covenants 10:37).
And to Emma Smith, He explained, “Murmur not because of the things which thou hast not seen, for they are withheld from thee and from the world, which is wisdom in me in a time to come” (Doctrine and Covenants 25:4).
I too have sought answers to heartfelt questions. Many answers have come; some have not. As we hold on—trusting God’s wisdom and love, keeping His commandments, and relying on what we do know—He helps us find peace until He reveals the truth of all things.
When seeking truth, it helps to understand the difference between doctrine and policy. Doctrine refers to eternal truths, such as the nature of the Godhead, the plan of salvation, and Jesus Christ’s atoning sacrifice. Policy is the application of doctrine based on current circumstances. Policy helps us administer the Church in an orderly way.
While doctrine never changes, policy adjusts from time to time. The Lord works through His prophets to uphold His doctrine and to modify Church policies according to the needs of His children.
Unfortunately, we sometimes confuse policy with doctrine. If we do not understand the difference, we risk becoming disillusioned when policies change and may even begin to question God’s wisdom or the revelatory role of prophets.
When we obtain truth from God, He encourages us to share that knowledge with others. We do this when we teach a class, guide a child, or discuss gospel truths with a friend.
Our aim is to teach truth in a way that invites the converting power of the Holy Ghost. Let me share some simple invitations from the Lord and His prophets that can help.
Center on Heavenly Father, Jesus Christ, and Their fundamental doctrine.
Stay grounded in the scriptures and the teachings of latter-day prophets.
Rely on doctrine established through multiple authoritative witnesses.
Avoid speculation, personal opinions, or worldly ideas.
Teach a point of doctrine within the context of related gospel truths.
Use teaching methods that invite the influence of the Spirit.
Communicate clearly to avoid misunderstanding.
How we teach truth really matters. Paul encouraged us to speak “the truth in love” (see Ephesians 4:14–15). Truth has the best chance of blessing another when conveyed with Christlike love.
Truth taught without love can cause feelings of judgment, discouragement, and loneliness. It often leads to resentment and division—even conflict. On the other hand, love without truth is hollow and lacks the promise of growth.
Both truth and love are essential for our spiritual development. Truth provides the doctrine, principles, and laws necessary to gain eternal life, while love engenders the motivation needed to embrace and act upon what is true.
I am forever grateful for others who patiently taught me eternal truth with love.
In conclusion, let me share eternal truths that have become an anchor to my soul. I have come to know these truths by following the principles discussed today.
I know that God is our Heavenly Father. He is all knowing, all powerful, and perfectly loving. He created a plan for us to gain eternal life and become like Him.
As part of that plan, He sent His Son, Jesus Christ, to help us. Jesus taught us to do the Father’s will and to love one another. He atoned for our sins and gave up His life on the cross. He arose from the dead after three days. Through Christ and His grace, we will be resurrected, we can be forgiven, and we can find strength in affliction.
During His earthly ministry, Jesus established His Church. Over time, that Church was changed, and truths were lost. Jesus Christ restored His Church and the truths of the gospel through the Prophet Joseph Smith. And today, Christ continues to lead His Church through living prophets and apostles.
I know that as we come unto Christ, we can eventually “be perfected in him” (Moroni 10:32), obtain “a fulness of joy” (Doctrine and Covenants 93:33), and receive “all that [the] Father hath” (Doctrine and Covenants 84:38). To these eternal truths I bear witness in the holy name of Jesus Christ, amen.

In the Lord’s inspired pattern, the bishop has responsibility for everyone in the ward. He blesses the parents of youth as well as the youth. One bishop found that as he counseled with a young man struggling with pornography, he could help the young man in his repentance only as he helped the parents react with love and understanding. The young man’s healing was a healing for his family and was possible through the bishop working in behalf of the entire family. The young man has now become a worthy Melchizedek Priesthood holder and full-time missionary.