Gospel Story Finder

Just like Rexburg, Bountiful was never on the list of recommended or even possible temple sites during the time I was doing the work for the Prophet of God. In the late 1980s, in fact, a brilliant man working for the Presiding Bishopric and for me prepared a list, using careful statistical analysis, of one hundred places deserving temples. I delivered it to the President. Based on the criteria we used to make that list, Bountiful, which is where my family and I then lived, would not have appeared in the second or third-hundred possibilities.

Not many weeks after I sent the list of one hundred sites to the President, our son John, the one born in the old Madison Memorial Hospital, came home from the Bountiful Seminary. He announced with some enthusiasm, "A Dad in seminary today told me that the Church has purchased a site for a temple on Bountiful Boulevard." I said to him with great emphasis, and some annoyance, "John, I am in charge of evaluating and buying sites for temples. If you look as if you even think that unfounded story might be true, people will believe it."

Within a day or two, my wife said that she had heard in Relief Society that the Church had purchased a future temple site in Bountiful. I told her, "Kathy, I am in charge. That is an unfounded rumor, and you mustn't even appear to believe it."

The next day in the media, the Church announced the purchase of a temple site in Bountiful. I called Clair Bankhead, who worked with me buying temple properties and sites. I asked, "Clair, why didn't you tell me?" He said, "President Benson told me to buy it and not to tell anyone. So I did what the Prophet asked."

When John came home that day after hearing the news, he said with a smile, "Now I know what it means for you to be in charge." So did I. And now so do you. The Prophet, who holds all the keys of the Kingdom, including the keys of the sealing power, is directly accountable to the Lord for temples. Others may help, but the Lord decides and tells His Prophet. It was a miracle that Bountiful, twenty minutes from Salt Lake and twenty-five from Ogden, received a temple.

One particular trial (that I’m still going through) started a few years ago, when I realized I needed to make a change in my career path. I decided to take the Church’s Find a Better Job self-reliance class and felt confident that I had the tools necessary to find a better job right away.
But as it turned out, that wasn’t what the Lord had in mind for me.
I did everything I could to find a new job. And I initially thought I was doing well with my search, until I got rejected from the first job I interviewed for, and the second too. And then another.
I received countless rejection emails. A few times I even made it to the final interview in the hiring process, but someone else was always chosen over me.
After all these crushing blows, I wasn’t sure if I’d recover my confidence. I started losing faith in myself. I felt like I was worthless and incapable, and I was convinced I would never experience the joy of working somewhere I truly loved.
One night during this time of soul-crushing agony, I realized that I hadn’t been counseling with Heavenly Father about my job search. Through tears, I apologized for not communicating with Him and pleaded to know what I was missing and why it wasn’t working out. In a quiet moment, the Spirit calmed my aching heart, soothed my nerves, and whispered in my mind, “Have faith; it’s not the right time yet.” That message equally calmed and broke my heart.
I was positive that I needed to be working elsewhere, but that soft impression from the Spirit helped me have faith that Heavenly Father would lead me to blessings at the right time.
So I halted my job search and focused on other things in order to prepare myself for a change. I focused on things I could control. I attended more training classes at work, began seeing a therapist, started studying my scriptures more fully, and began counseling with the Lord regularly about everything in my life.
Over the next few months, I still didn’t have the job I wanted, but I felt peace.
And then the COVID-19 pandemic hit.
Although I was devastated at first, I came to realize what a blessing it was that I hadn’t gotten a new job, because I probably would have been laid off and suddenly found myself unemployed, in a new city, and completely alone in the pandemic. So I took time during quarantine and social distancing to reflect, ponder, pray, and deepen my faith.
When the April 2020 general conference rolled around, a message from Elder Gary E. Stevenson of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles in which he compared the foundation of the Salt Lake Temple to our own testimonies resonated with my soul. He said that our earthly trials, “similar to an earthquake, are often difficult to predict and come in various levels of intensity—wrestling with questions or doubt, facing affliction or adversity, working through personal offenses with Church leaders, members, doctrine, or policy. The best defense against these lies in our spiritual foundation.” 1
The Spirit testified to me that if I worked on my spiritual foundation, Heavenly Father would guide me to the job I had been praying for. I committed to studying Come, Follow Me, reading the scriptures, serving more faithfully in my calling, and having weekly chats with a trusted friend.
As I worked on my spiritual foundation daily, I saw my faith grow. I felt greater hope, and my understanding of Heavenly Father’s timing developed as I began to see His hand in my life each day. And most importantly, I discovered how the Spirit speaks to me.
President Dallin H. Oaks, First Counselor in the First Presidency, once said, “The gospel of Jesus Christ is a plan that shows us how to become what our Heavenly Father desires us to become.” 2 I realized the Lord was sanctifying me through this trial and teaching me how to truly become who He needed me to be.
As I have looked back on this journey, I’ve realized that being sanctified through the power of the Savior is never going to be easy. It hasn’t been for me. But as I have relied on Him and also done my part to have faith and take steps like improving my professional skills, strengthening my spiritual foundation, applying for jobs, and waiting upon Him, I’ve witnessed how He can help us get through the difficult yet beautiful middle with faith.
I don’t know how long the middle of my trial of finding a steady, enjoyable career path will last, but I’ve grown so much through this experience. And I know Heavenly Father and the Savior want me to walk with Them so They can help me keep moving forward.

Tommy and Betsy were down at the creek scrubbing the breakfast dishes with clean white sand when they heard Brigham Young call the Saints to the central square. They barely had time to rinse the dishes in the boiling water their mother had ready before the five thousand people at Sugar Creek, Iowa, camp gathered to hear what Brigham Young, their leader, had to say. His message was brief: “I propose to go forward on our journey. Let all who wish, follow me.”
Tommy was jubilant. He grabbed Betsy by the hand and whirled her around, saying, “We’re going out west. At last we’re going out west.” Suddenly he stood still and said, “We can’t go out west now! Pa isn’t here.”
Tommy’s mother could see the disappointment in his face. “Your father will probably be here by noon tomorrow,” she said. “He expected to finish up his work in St. Joseph today, and if we have everything ready, we can leave as soon as he arrives.”
Tommy felt better, and by the time President Young gave the signal for the long train of five hundred wagons to start moving, he and Betsy happily waved good-bye to many of their friends and neighbors. When the wagon train was out of sight, they hurried back to ask Mother what they could do to get ready to go.
“You can churn the butter,” Mother told Betsy.
While Betsy was churning, Tommy filled the water barrel and secured it to the outside of the wagon so the family would have fresh water to drink when they could not camp by a spring or near a river. As Tommy was coming up from the creek, he saw a wagon drive into camp.
“It’s Pa!” he cried, and he dropped the bucket he was carrying and ran to greet him.
“Can we go out west now that you’ve come?” questioned Tommy. “Over half of the people have already gone.”
Tommy’s father laughed. “I guess we won’t be going this afternoon,” he answered. “I bought another wagon and yoke of oxen in St. Joseph. That’s why I was able to return today; the men I went with won’t be back until tomorrow. The wagon is loaded with corn and wheat, and we must fix a cover to put over it.”
“Who’s going to drive the new wagon?” asked Tommy.
“I think your mother can drive it,” replied Father.
“I could drive it,” said Tommy. Tommy’s father did not reply for a moment; then he said, “I think you could. We’ll let you try.” And before the oxen were unhitched from the wagon, Tommy’s father taught him how to hold the reins and how to crack the whip so as to startle the oxen but not to hurt them.
Tommy was so anxious to drive the oxen that he worked all afternoon so they could be sure to start early the next morning. He soaked in the creek the six strips of special wood his father had brought from St. Joseph. When they were soft and pliable, he helped Father secure them to one side of the wagon box, bow them over, and secure them to the other side. Together they lifted the big canvas cover up and over the top of the bows and stretched it tightly before securing it to each side of the wagon.
Afterwards Tommy helped his father make a long deep grub box, and together they secured it to one side of the wagon. The small chicken coop Father had brought from St. Joseph was attached to the other side for the six hens he had brought with him. Betsy hoped that one of the hens would have some baby chicks.
Betsy and her mother packed the grub box with the dishes and the food they would use each day, then hung the big iron kettles on the outside of the wagon. When the dough was ready, Mother rolled some of it into loaves and Betsy made some biscuits to be baked over red hot coals in the dutch oven.
The next morning Tommy got up especially early. He was too excited to sleep because he was thinking about driving the oxen. Finally the wagons were ready and he climbed onto the seat by the side of his mother to wait for the signal that would start the small train of thirty-two wagons toward the West.
At last the signal came, and with a flip of the reins and a crack of the whip, Tommy’s wagon began to move. As it was the first time Tommy had ever driven, and he was so intent on what he was doing that he did not notice how bright the sun was shining nor how warm it was getting. He did not even notice that his mother had replaced her heavy winter coat with a light shawl. He only knew that it was necessary for him to crack the whip more often to keep the oxen moving. Suddenly he realized that this was because the ground was thawing; the wheels of the wagon were sinking deeper and deeper into the soft prairie mud, and it was harder and harder for the oxen to pull the load.
Tommy was afraid that they would never catch up with the main wagon train that had left Sugar Creek the day before. He was surprised and happy when late that afternoon he heard the sound of voices and knew that the camp was not far away. He coaxed the oxen on in soft, soothing tones.
“Steady now,” he said. “Pull together.” The oxen responded as if they understood every word. They lurched forward with such power that the wheels rolled easily, and soon Tommy found himself in camp surrounded by admiring friends.
“Did you drive all the way from Sugar Creek?” one asked.
“That’s great,” said another. “I wish my father would let me drive.”
Suddenly it started to rain. At first it was a soft, gentle rain that did not bother Tommy as he milked the cow and helped his father feed the oxen. Later, when they started to pitch the tent, the rain came down in fierce, angry sheets that bit into Tommy’s shoulders. The wind blew so hard that it wrenched the tent out of their hands.
“We’ll have to do without the tent tonight,” Father finally decided.
“Where will you and Mamma sleep?” asked Tommy. “My wagon is too full of corn and wheat for anybody to sleep there.”
“You and Betsy can sleep with Mamma in the other wagon,” answered his father, “and I will make a bed underneath it for me.”
“I will sleep under the wagon,” said Tommy quietly.
Father did not answer at once, but Tommy knew by the pressure of his hand that he was proud that his son had offered. Finally Father quietly said, “I’ll help you gather pine boughs to put on the ground so your bed won’t sink into the mud.”
Tommy was glad when they had enough pine boughs, because it was difficult to cut them in the stinging rain. Over these pine boughs he and his father put the folded tent, leaving enough of it free on each side to pull over the bedroll so Tommy would not get wet.
When the bed was ready, Tommy crawled into it. At first it was frightening to be alone in the storm. Never had he heard such loud thunder, and the lightning flashes were so close that he could see small fires appear in the tops of the trees where lightning had hit. Even though he knew the heavy rain would soon put them out, Tommy was afraid. What if the lightning should strike the wagon where the others are sleeping? he asked himself. He wanted to call out to his father for comfort, but he didn’t want anyone to know that he was afraid.
I’ll ask Heavenly Father to help me, he said to himself. And he did. Tommy almost expected his prayer to be answered by the thunder and lightning stopping. Instead it was answered by Tommy not being afraid any more.
Then Tommy began to enjoy the storm. It was almost as if giant fireworks were everywhere. Instead of wanting to go to sleep, he wanted to stay awake so he would not miss any of it. But since the storm lasted all night, Tommy’s eyes finally closed. He did not open them again until he felt water lapping at his feet and discovered that the little creek beside which they had camped had become a raging torrent during the night.
Excitedly Tommy called out to his father, “The creek has overflowed and the back wheels of the wagon are standing in the water!”
Tommy’s father was out of the wagon in an instant. When he saw the situation, he helped Tommy pull the bed out from under the wagon and then hitched up both teams of oxen to pull the wagon out of the water. The ground was so slippery the oxen could not get a foothold.
“We will have to build a corduroy road,” said Tommy’s father.
To do this, Tommy and his father cut down many trees. They trimmed off the limbs and laid the poles side by side, close to and in front of the wagon; then with willows they bound each log tightly to the next one so they would not roll. When this was finished, they packed tough grass and pine needles on top of the poles so the oxen’s hoofs could not slip into the cracks.
Finally they coaxed the frightened oxen up onto the corduroy road and hitched them to the wagon. Father spoke to the oxen in a soothing tone, “Steady now, pull together.”
The oxen did pull together. The heavy wagon wheels rolled out of the mud, onto the tough grass, over the corduroy road, and up onto the road that the Camp of Israel would be traveling that day.
Tommy shouted, “Hooray!” and he could see by the look on his mother’s face that she was proud of her two “men.”

I am acquainted with a couple from Central America. As members of a different faith, they were concerned when their young son passed away without being baptized. They consulted their minister and were told that the baby would go to limbo. "Where is limbo?" they inquired. The response was that it is believed to be a place of darkness, despair, and hopelessness.
Soon after, this couple joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. They learned of eternal families and that their son was not in limbo but that he was saved and could be theirs forever. They learned of and were sealed in the temple, receiving great hope, with joy replacing despair.

I was born in the village of Waipahu, Hawaii. My father worked on the pineapple plantation there. My parents were from Okinawa, Japan, and I was brought up in a Buddhist environment. But even though I had never gone to a Christian church, I was always drawn to Christmas. I thought it was a wonderful season, and Christmas drew me to Christianity.
When I was still very young, my family moved to Honolulu. I lost both my parents at a young age. My mother died when I was eighteen months old. Later, in my teens, my father died.
My first contact with the Church came when I was fifteen years old and living with my older brother. One Sunday evening I was listening to my portable radio when I heard the beautiful strains of a choir singing the chorus from Tannhäuser, by Richard Wagner. It was a song I had learned in my junior high school choir, but the quality of this performance was vastly different. I wondered what choir could be singing it. When I heard that it was the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, the word Mormon stuck in my head. I later learned that the announcer for that radio broadcast was Elder Richard L. Evans of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles.
During the summer, I did odd jobs to earn money. That summer I was working as a service station attendant. A man who worked there was a member of the Church, and he invited me to attend MIA (Mutual). At first I hesitated, but he was persistent, and I finally gave in. The warmth and friendliness of the members and missionaries impressed me, but again the music influenced me most. Their hymns sounded different from any I had ever heard.
When I first started reading the Book of Mormon, it seemed strange to me. The only name in the book that was familiar to me was the name of one of Nephi’s brothers—Sam! But there was a force that drew me to the Book of Mormon. I felt that if I were to become a member of the Church, my life would become much more meaningful.
When I told my older brother that I would like to be baptized, he said, “That would be fine. But if you become a member, you must be a lifetime member. You must commit yourself and be loyal.” I was baptized when I was sixteen.
After high school, I was in the military, and I had the opportunity to have an interview with Elder Harold B. Lee, who was then an Apostle and who later became President of the Church. It was a very precious time for me. For an hour he counseled me to go on a mission, to go to the House of the Lord, and to sustain the leaders of the Church. This same advice applies to every member of the Church.
I never forgot Elder Lee’s advice. I came to Salt Lake City, Utah, on furlough and went to the Salt Lake Temple. After I left the military and went to college, I saved money for a mission. During my mission, I was able to open the Okinawa area, where my father was from, for missionary work. Later, serving as president of the Tokyo Temple, I had the wonderful blessing of seeing many of the Japanese Saints receive their temple endowments. Seeing the joy in the faces of those being sealed was a great blessing.
Boys and girls, prepare yourselves to go to the house of the Lord. Going to the temple will be the greatest thing you can accomplish in your mortal life. In the temple, you can feel the Lord’s presence and know that He is there. You can kneel at the altar and make sacred covenants. The Lord will always keep His part of these covenants. When you keep your part of them, you will receive the greatest gifts, eternal life and exaltation.
You can begin now to prepare yourself spiritually, mentally, and physically by keeping the commandments, by being clean in mind and body, and by being faithful and loyal to our Heavenly Father. If you will do these things, you will be led toward the sacred covenants of the temple. Then you will have peace and be happy, no matter what trials and tribulations you meet.
You can also learn to search your family history so that your ancestors can have the same temple blessings. We will meet them some day and know them as our relatives. All the people of the world will some day have the same privilege. The Lord has many wonderful blessings awaiting us if we just take advantage of them.

You can’t help but like Andrea* when you meet her. She’s warm and friendly and fun, and she knows how to make you feel good about yourself.

But she wasn’t always like that.

For a long time, she carried around a dark and tragic secret that she could confess to no one. She cried a lot. She was usually depressed. She withdrew from people—wasn’t close to anyone, and didn’t have the self-confidence to excel in school or anything else. Andrea had been sexually abused when she was younger.

“I thought I had committed a terrible sin,” she said. “I thought it was too gross to tell anyone. I felt disgusting and totally worthless, until a very understanding bishop explained to me that it wasn’t my fault, that the Lord still loved me, and that I could get help.”

The help Andrea got, which included professional and spiritual counseling, is enabling her to put those traumatic experiences in the past and become emotionally and spiritually healthy again.

Going through these stages has helped Andrea begin to lead a happier, more fulfilling life. Others like her who have experienced sexual abuse can also begin to recover. It is important for them to realize that they have a right not to be abused, and that they need to get help if it happens. They need to know that they are not at fault, that they are not impure, nor are they any less chaste. And most of all, they need to know that Heavenly Father still loves them, has great hope for them, and has provided ways for them to recover.

Emmeline gave birth to a son, Eugene, on September 1, 1844. But after six weeks, he died of fever. Her husband James went down the river to the city of St. Louis, Missouri, for work. There he began working as a merchant seaman and sailed for the East Indies. She never heard from him again.
To earn money, Emmeline started teaching again. She instructed the younger children of Newel K. and Elizabeth Ann Whitney. Sister Whitney, who had been a counselor to Emma Smith in the Female Relief Society of Nauvoo, taught her much about the gospel. Newel explained the promises of the priesthood and of temple ordinances. Emmeline was sealed to Newel as a plural wife. She joined the large Whitney family for the trek west with the Saints.
Emmeline and Newel had two daughters, Isabel and Melvina, before Newel died suddenly in Salt Lake City, Utah Territory, in September 1850. Emmeline was only 22 and again needed to support herself as a teacher. Though feeling lost, she cherished a prophecy Newel made about her life: “He said I should have nothing to do but to devote my whole time to writing and to literary pursuits, and that I should sit and eat and drink and converse with the nobles of the earth and tell them of the Gospel.”4
In 1852, Emmeline married Daniel H. Wells as a plural wife. They had three daughters together, Emeline, Elizabeth Ann, and Louisa. In the 1870s, Emmeline accepted callings in her ward Relief Society as assistant secretary and then as a visiting teaching leader.5 These callings built her confidence as she furthered her writing and speaking skills.
In 1872, a new semimonthly periodical called the Woman’s Exponent started in Salt Lake City “for Latter-day Saint women to help them learn about their work, their lives, and their history.”6 Emmeline submitted articles. Eliza R. Snow, a member of the Exponent committee, noticed her talent and asked her to write an editorial. Emmeline wrote in her diary, “I love this kind of work.”7 She began helping in the Woman’s Exponent office and in 1875 was named associate editor. In 1876, President Brigham Young asked Emmeline to lead the women’s grain storage program as well. In August 1877, Emmeline became the editor of the Woman’s Exponent.
Emmeline was also a strong advocate for the rights of women and of the Saints. She later became president of the Utah Woman’s Suffrage Association, where she educated women and urged lawmakers to confirm women’s right to vote in the state constitution. She acknowledged the demands on her time and energy. But she wrote that it was her way to “work for the elevation and uplifting of humanity.”8
In her lifetime, Emmeline met and talked with six presidents of the United States. She spoke with two of these presidents in the White House on behalf of the Church. She hoped to lighten legislation against Latter-day Saints.
In January 1879, Emmeline and Zina Young Williams presented a message to members of Congress and to President Rutherford B. Hayes and his wife. Emmeline and Zina spoke against bills aimed to punish Church members in the Utah Territory for their religious beliefs. They also asked for consideration of wives and children who would be harmed by measures to send men to prison for participating in plural marriage.9 Emmeline wrote, “I thank God I was the first to represent our women in the Halls of Congress.”10
Seven years later, Emmeline traveled to Washington, DC, USA, with a similar purpose. She met with congressmen and senators. She talked with Rose Cleveland (the president’s sister and Acting First Lady) and then spoke with President Grover Cleveland himself. Emmeline and Dr. Ellen Ferguson represented the Latter-day Saint women of the Utah Territory and presented him a memorial plea urging fairness for the Saints in political matters.11
In these efforts, Emmeline was supported by leaders of the National Woman Suffrage Association, particularly by Susan B. Anthony, who greeted her warmly whenever they met and emphasized their common interest in improving the lives of women.12
Emmeline served 22 years as corresponding and general secretary of the Relief Society under Presidents Zina D. H. Young and Bathsheba W. Smith.13 She edited the Woman’s Exponent for 37 years. She led the grain storage movement for 42 years. She had a keen memory and was a fount of information for those who counseled with her. When President Joseph F. Smith called her to be the Relief Society General President in 1910, she served for ten and a half years, until shortly before her death in 1921. She was the last Relief Society General President to have known Joseph Smith personally, and she bore witness that when he spoke, she “saw his magnificent presence,” felt his influence, and knew “that he was in very deed a Prophet of God.”14
As Emmeline fulfilled roles of homemaker, editor, and leader of women, she felt “very grateful to God for all His mercies and blessings in giving me powers and faculties that are a constant source of wealth to my mind; my spirit is usually invigorated and buoyed up, and I am able to bear all that devolves upon me.”15

While traveling alone to visit friends on a holiday weekend, I decided to follow a rural highway instead of taking a long detour to a major interstate highway. It was dusk, and I wanted to arrive at my friends’ home before midnight.
Mine was the only car on the road for long stretches of the highway, and in order to relieve boredom I turned on a radio station. As I sang along to a favorite tune, I received a distinct spiritual prompting to turn off the radio—and listen. At first I ignored the prompting, reasoning that it would be absurd to drive alone in silence on a deserted road. The prompting became more insistent, however. I reluctantly turned off the radio, sat back, and quietly told the Lord that now I was listening.
In short order I received three additional promptings to slow down immediately. These impressions seemed to be much stronger, and they reached a much more receptive and focused mind. I obediently braked three times, slowing the car substantially.
Shortly I encountered a 90-degree unmarked curve. I had no time to react in the darkness and went through the curve, stopping at the edge of a ridge overlooking a deep ditch. Shaken, I got out to inspect the damage and found my car wholly intact but with its front bumper protruding over the precipice. Had I been going any faster, I would certainly have plunged into the ditch and been injured or killed. I offered a prayer of gratitude.
I made the rest of the trip in silence as I reflected on the need to eliminate “radios” from my life. I wondered how many times I had allowed the frivolous things of the world to take priority over spiritual matters. Although I have not given up listening to the radio at home or on the road, I do take time on a regular basis to turn off the music—and listen.

The first day of concert choir was always the worst day of the year. The teacher had to cajole 150 teenagers into an arranged seating assignment. If I had to sit next to a stranger, I would run the risk of being subjected to two hours of irritating interaction instead of being able to exchange news and confidences with friends.
I sat in the first row, sandwiched among friends as we waited for our seating assignments. I surveyed my peers and submitted a fervent prayer to end up sitting by someone I knew. Consequently, I couldn’t keep the disappointment from my face when I was assigned to sit next to Ashley—a girl I’d rarely spoken to. I was sure the happiness of my junior year of choir had been doomed.
For the next few days, the situation proved as miserable as I’d predicted. But time worked its magic, and my walls of reserve were broken by this girl’s unusual character. Before a month had passed, we were both the truest of friends, each keeping confidences about the other’s life and loves.
Ashley’s enthusiasm for life spilled over to include everyone she came in contact with. I began to look forward to choir more than any other class merely for the sake of being with her. She was the happiest person I knew, and she constantly delighted me with her humor. Ashley stood out because of her kindness and true Christlike attitude.
I still think of Ashley occasionally. I picture her in her favorite striped sweater and with the hundreds of friends she had from all areas of the high school. Many times I have thanked my Heavenly Father for not answering my prayer that first day of choir class to be seated by someone I knew. If He had, I never would have experienced the joy of knowing such an inspiring person before she left this earth.

Have you ever been in an uncomfortable situation and thought "how did I get here," or more accurately "how did I allow this to happen?" I felt this way when, while living in Allentown PA, a group of my friends thought that it would be fun to have a "girls' night out" and go dancing. Even though we planned on going to a club, we wouldn't be drinking and I thought that there would be no harm in dancing with my friends. As soon as I entered the club, I started to feel uncomfortable. This was not a place where a daughter of God should be spending time. It was rather, a place where people were dulling their senses with alcohol and giving away their dignity by the way they dressed and acted. What a mistake; how had I allowed this to happen? I succumbed to peer pressure and listened to worldly friends instead of listening to the Spirit.

Choosing our friends carefully is important in our life-long journey. Now I'm not talking about limiting our friends to those who are well-dressed, or those who move in the popular social circle. The Savior chose his disciples by looking at the inner man, not by considering their appearance or their occupation. If we could look at people with "heavenly glasses" we may be surprised at who is dressed in royal robes. When we surround ourselves with associates who uplift us and encourage us to do better, we put ourselves on a path to spiritual success.

As a student, you probably have or will learn about William Shakespeare in school. But what if, instead, Shakespeare was a student who learned at your school? For David Arnold, this was a reality. He went to King Edward VI School in England, where Shakespeare is said to have attended.
This school was appealing to David because it has a good reputation. Getting in is also really competitive, and David didn’t know if he would be accepted when he applied at age 11.
But getting into the school taught David something about himself: “I’m better than I thought I was,” he says. “It made me realize that I can do it.”

Soon after I was baptized, the branch president called me as the Young Men president. It was excellent to be with the youth and to help them learn about the gospel. At the same time I was teaching, I was learning. This was the first in a series of callings that I received. With each of my responsibilities, I felt joy and pleasure for the new challenges. President Thomas S. Monson has taught: “Remember that whom the Lord calls, the Lord qualifies.”3 I had to trust and believe with humility that I would be capable. And in less than six months as a member, I had the great opportunity to become familiar with the programs in the Church.
Germano Lopes, baptized in Brazil in 2004

When Theany Reath, a young adult in Cambodia, was investigating the Church two years ago, she worried that her family would be offended when she stopped praying to their deceased ancestors. To her relief, her parents have been tolerant of her new beliefs and behaviors. “I feel the love of my parents a great deal,” she says. “They respect my new practices, such as fasting, and they no longer expect me to drink tea with them.” Today she serves as a branch Young Women president.

Not long after I was ordained a deacon, my bishop, Leon Walker, asked me into his office to give me an assignment. He handed me a bright key, the key to the chapel, and charged me with responsibility to help look after the building. I considered myself one of the most fortunate boys in the world to have an assignment from my priesthood president. I thought this would not be a difficult task. My home was just a one-minute bicycle ride away from the building. But I soon learned what I suppose all bishops know, and that is that everybody in the ward seems to have a key to the building. As soon as I had the building locked up on an evening, someone came along behind me and opened a door. As soon as I had opened a Primary classroom, some diligent soul was there behind me to lock it up again. I could hardly stay on top of that job.
But I began to learn then, as I have come to understand since, that any call, any service in our Lord’s cause sanctifies us. Whether it is performed in the glare of the public eye or in a quiet corner known only to God is of no consequence. What matters is that we do serve, for by serving we keep our covenants with Deity, and in those covenants is the promise of salvation.

The Book of Mormon helped one woman remember spiritual experiences from her youth. Miriam, a middle-aged Christian woman from Brazil, read a wonderful page, page 478. She then said:

I was very sick when I was young and my mother told me everyday to ask for God’s help. When I was five God came to me and blessed me. My father was killed in a car accident when I was 19 and when I ran up to my room upset I asked God where He was and why He would let this happen. He told me that my earthly father was gone, but I would always have my Heavenly Father. I’m so glad you’re doing this. I had forgotten about those experiences until I read this page. Reading this book lets people remember their spiritual experiences.

Second, our campfire of faith can encourage us to minister in new, higher, and holier Spirit-filled ways.
Such ministering brings miracles and the blessings of covenant belonging—where we feel God’s love and seek to minister to others in that spirit.
Not long ago, Sister Gong and I became acquainted with a father and family blessed by a faithful priesthood brother who came to their bishop and asked if he (the priesthood brother) could be a home teaching companion with the father. The father was not active and not interested in home teaching. But as the father’s heart changed, he and this loving priesthood brother began visiting “their” families. After one such visit, his wife—herself not then attending church—asked her husband how things had gone. The father admitted, “I may have felt something”—then he went to the kitchen to get a beer.12
But one thing followed another: tender experiences, ministering service, changing hearts, temple preparation class, coming to church, being sealed as a family in the holy temple. Imagine how grateful the children and grandchildren are to their father and mother and to the ministering brother who came as a friend and companion with their father to minister to and love others.

That feeling of unity and understanding seemed to characterize the day. Most people were a bit surprised when Melissa Lane, 13, modeled her outfit as it was announced that one of her major goals was to become a member of the Church.
Melissa later explained, “My aunt is a member of the Church and I live with her now. She lets me go to church, and it really makes me feel good. I’m starting to read the Book of Mormon, and my aunt is letting me subscribe to the New Era. My special friends here have helped me with my testimony, and this conference has too.”

The sixth annual Super Challenge was freckled this year with sunshine, laughter, headaches, dirt, sunburn, shaving lotion, sore muscles, jokes, learning, and testimonies. In the summer of 1976, 225 Glendale and Los Angeles youth made their plans to invade Santa Catalina Island for a youth conference they called Super Challenge. They and their 50 adult leaders were all members of the Glendale California Stake. It was the youth steering committee, consisting of Julie McGuire, Sal Palilla, Jeff Harrison, Kim Slight, Renelle Gubler, Tina Tittle, and Eric Torgeson, who spent hundreds of hours of planning to come up with all the zany and fruitful things they did. The theme of the conference, “A Generation of Excellence,” was emphasized in the first hours when two competing groups spelled excellence in human figures on the hillside.
In addition to workshops and seminars given by stake leaders, Bishop Vaughn Featherstone had sent a specially prepared 20-minute tape on his book A Generation of Excellence from which the theme was taken. The young people were counseled to “cover up cesspools and plant new gardens,” to act as though the Savior were at their side, and to enrich their lives by becoming excellent.
At a three-hour fast and testimony meeting on Sunday, 69 young people stood and bore their testimonies. Four of them were nonmembers.
The rest of the weekend was filled with basic football, crab-ball soccer, speed croquet, boat racing, swimming, rock throwing, volleyball, and treasure hunting.
The waiters at meal times were “celebrities:” the person at the table who was the most blonde, the one whose birthday was closest to July 4, etc. When the lot fell to “the tallest,” special guest speaker and BYU basketball coach, six-feet-six-inch-tall Frank Arnold, accepted the honor and served his table with the flare of a French maître d’.
What a happy time! The leaders could see it in every face, and they were sure of it the night they heard noises outside and looked to find the hillside dotted with young people singing, “I Am a Child of God.”

I was named the winner of the speech contest, and the gift I received for winning the speech contest was a copy of Jesus the Christ by James E. Talmage. I took it home and read it. It was written by an Apostle and was full of the words of the scriptures. My feelings for the Savior, which had been tender before, became profound. I was drawn to Him and found that the words of the scriptures helped me to know Him and taste of His love. What began as a goal to read the Book of Mormon to know of its truth became a lifelong hunger and thirst to know Him and His word—a thirst that is satisfied fully and deliciously by reading, pondering, living, and sharing the truths of the Book of Mormon.

You, the children of the Lord’s church today, are following Jesus down into the waters of baptism and beyond. Nine-year-old Sandra Martinez of Lakeview, Oregon, says of her baptism: “My mom said that I should pray about whether or not to be baptized, so that night I prayed. The next day I got a warm feeling in my heart that I should be baptized. I felt very close to Jesus and felt that He wanted me to be baptized. The bishop baptized me in Spanish so that my family could understand.”