Gospel Story Finder

An experience of Daniel W. Jones illustrates well the concept of being strengthened by the hand of the Lord as we wait upon Him. Daniel Jones was one of 20 men who agreed to stay at Devil’s Gate through the winter of 1856 and protect possessions left there by the immigrant pioneers I mentioned earlier. Daniel and two of the other men had come from Salt Lake City as members of the rescue party and were planning to be gone for just a few days, not the entire winter. There were only enough provisions to last about 20 days, even though there were at least five months of winter ahead. After eating the meager provisions, including the remaining 20 head of cattle, the men survived on what they could hunt. But food was scarce because the cold winter storms had driven away all the animals.
Daniel Jones related the following about their situation:
Game soon became so scarce that we could kill nothing. We ate all the poor meat; one would get hungry eating it. Finally that was all gone, nothing now but hides were left. We made a trial of them. A lot was cooked and eaten without any seasoning and it made the whole company sick. Many were so turned against the stuff that it made them sick to think of it. . . .
Things looked dark, for nothing remained but the poor raw hides taken from starved cattle. We asked the Lord to direct us what to do. The brethren did not murmur, but felt to trust in God. We had cooked the hide, after soaking and scraping the hair off until it was soft and then ate it, glue and all. This made it rather inclined to stay with us longer than we desired. Finally I was impressed how to fix the stuff and gave the company advice, telling them how to cook it; for them to scorch and scrape the hair off; this had a tendency to kill and purify the bad taste that scalding gave it. After scraping, boil one hour in plenty of water, throwing the water away which had extracted all the glue, then wash and scrape the hide thoroughly, washing in cold water, then boil to a jelly and let it get cold, and then eat with a little sugar sprinkled on it. This was considerable trouble, but we had little else to do and it was better than starving.
We asked the Lord to bless our stomachs and adapt them to this food. We hadn’t the faith to ask him to bless the raw-hide for it was “hard stock.” On eating now all seemed to relish the feast. . . . We enjoyed this sumptuous fare for about six weeks, and never had the gout.
As Daniel Jones and the other men waited upon the Lord and trusted in Him, they were strengthened by His hand. Their bodies were able to bear their burdens with ease. They were able to cheerfully endure months of freezing temperatures and near starvation without murmuring.

When Heber Jeddy Grant was only nine days old, his father Jedediah M. Grant died after an uneven bout with pneumonia. Jedediah, who was only forty years old at that time, had been a missionary stalwart for the Church, second counselor to Brigham Young, and Salt Lake City’s first mayor.
To support herself and to help provide for Jeddy, the boy’s mother Rachel Grant did sewing for other people and took in boarders.
When Jeddy was about six years old, he liked to hitch rides on passing sleighs by hanging on behind for a block or two. Once he got on the sleigh of President Brigham Young, who liked to drive fast. Years later, he recalled, “I found myself skimming along with such speed that I dared not jump off …
“President Young, happening to notice me hanging on his sleigh, immediately called out—‘Brother Isaac, stop!” He then had his driver, Isaac Wilson, get out and pick me up and tuck me snugly under the robes on the front seat. President Young … asked, ‘Are you warm?’ and when I answered ‘yes,’ he inquired my name and where I lived. He then talked to me in the most kindly manner, told me how much he had loved my father and what a good man he was, and expressed the hope that I would be as good as my father. Our conversation ended in his inviting me to come up to his office some day and have a chat with him.”
Jeddy Grant did visit Brigham Young again, and often. Of their association he remarked, “I learned not only to respect and venerate him, but to love him with an affection akin to that which I imagine I would have felt for my own father, had I been permitted to know and return a father’s love.”
Jeddy worked just as diligently in his Church service as he did in business. At twenty-three he was called to be president of the Tooele, Utah Stake; at twenty-five he became an apostle of the Church; in 1901 he was chosen to open a new mission in Japan.
In 1918 Heber J. Grant was sustained as the seventh president of the Church, and he served in that capacity for over twenty-six years, longer than any president except Brigham Young. His spiritual leadership and valuable business sense helped the Church to grow rapidly during those years. He died in 1945 at eighty-eight years of age.

I read the Book of Mormon and the Bible with new eyes and a new heart. One morning I came across a passage that once again penetrated my defences.
“But I say unto you, O man, whosoever [suffer that the beggar putteth up his petition to him in vain] the same hath great cause to repent; and except he repenteth of that which he hath done he perisheth forever, and hath no interest in the kingdom of God.” (Mosiah 4:16-18)
This spoke to the fact that I was ignoring a beggar who lived on the street on the way to college. I would cross the road to avoid her petition. I told myself it was her fault she was in that position. Suddenly I was convicted as having “no interest in the kingdom of God.” I was determined to change.
A couple of days later, I was confronted in the street by a rough-looking man who asked me for £2.68 - the cost, apparently, of the local night shelter. For a moment, I felt hard-hearted, but then remembered my resolve – I gave him the money, and continued.
Almost immediately, my being was overtaken by a warmth that spread from the centre out through my arms and legs. Again, it was real and profound. I understood from the missionaries that this experience was a confirmation from the Holy Spirit. But of what, exactly? I felt that it was not a reward for being charitable, but a witness that I had read the word of God (in the Book of Mormon) and applied it in my life. I had repented, and that was pleasing to Him.

I would like to thank you very much for the article “Bowl ’em Over” in the September 1984 New Era. The eager anticipation shown in the photos of the youth brought back many fond and exciting memories from over a year ago when I was in my last year of seminary.
I remembered how our little seminary group studied for long hours almost every time we met (once each week) to be the best scripture chasers in our district (the Dubois District in the Pennsylvania Pittsburg Mission).
At the end of the year, Kelly, Amy, and Debbie Starner, Jody Johnson, my sister Dona, and I fulfilled our promise that we had made to our wonderful teacher, Sister Betty Adams. We won the championship blue ribbons as the best team. Amy and I were the top male-female chasers in the district.
The great love we shared at each Super Saturday, the competition, and the other activities brought us all a little bit closer to each other and the Lord. I’m very grateful for those special occasions that touched my spirit, helping me in a time when I was struggling for a real testimony of my own.

The prophet Brigham Young desired that his daughters reflect their true identity. Visualize this setting with me for a moment. It is 1869, and the prophet Brigham Young became concerned about his daughters and their somewhat worldly interests and actions. He was worried about the general trend toward materialism, commercialism, and sophistication among the younger Church members, and his daughters seemed to reflect that trend. He assembled his children in the Lion House parlor for family prayer. He looked into the faces of his lovely daughters and said,
All Israel are looking to my family and watching the example set by my . . . children. For this reason I desire to organize my own family first into a society for the promotion of habits of order, thrift, industry, and charity; and, above all things, I desire them to retrench from their extravagance in dress. . . .
. . . I want you to . . . retrench . . . in your speech, wherein you have been guilty of silly . . . speeches and light-mindedness of thought. Retrench in everything that is bad and worthless, and improve in everything that is good and beautiful. [Susa Young Gates, History of the Young Ladies’ Mutual Improvement Association of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (Salt Lake City: Deseret News, 1911), 8–10]

I still remember a handsome young man with his lovely bride and their two beautiful little girls sitting with me and my missionary companion one day. The Holy Ghost came and testified to them that the gospel of Jesus Christ had been restored. They believed enough that they even asked if we could give their two little girls a blessing, as they had seen done in one of our sacrament meetings. They already had a desire for their children to be blessed, but they did not yet understand that the higher blessings would be possible only in the temples of God after they had made covenants.
I still feel pain to think of that couple and those little girls, probably now grown old, without the promise of an eternal family. Their parents had at least an inkling of the blessings that could be made available to them. My hope is that they somehow, somewhere may yet have the opportunity to qualify to be an eternal family.

I hope each young man who has been ordained to the Aaronic Priesthood is given a spiritual awareness of the sacredness of his ordained calling, as well as opportunities to magnify that calling. I received such an opportunity as a deacon when the bishopric asked that I take the sacrament to a shut-in who lived about a mile from our chapel. That special Sunday morning, as I knocked on Brother Wright’s door and heard his feeble voice call, “Come in,” I entered not only his humble cottage but also a room filled with the Spirit of the Lord. I approached Brother Wright’s bedside and carefully placed a piece of the bread to his lips. I then held the cup of water, that he might drink. As I departed, I saw tears in his eyes as he said, “God bless you, my boy.” And God did bless me—with an appreciation for the sacred emblems of the sacrament and for the priesthood which I held.

Sally Ann’s new home was lovely. She had a big yard to play in and a pretty room with red and white butterflies on the curtains.
But she didn’t have any new friends to play with yet. Her only playmate was her dog, Casper. She would call out, “Catch me if you can,” and run around the big yard. Casper would run after her. When he reached her, he would bark as if to say, “I caught you. Now let’s play another game.”
One day Sally Ann didn’t stay in the big yard when she called to Casper, “Catch me if you can.” Instead, she ran down the sidewalk past a red-haired boy who was bouncing a big blue ball. The boy thought that Sally Ann was calling to him, so he ran after her and Casper, shouting, “I can catch you!”
They passed two girls with long yellow pigtails who were jumping rope. When the two girls heard Sally Ann call out “Catch me if you can,” they stopped jumping rope and started running after Sally Ann and Casper and the red-haired boy.
The next time that Sally Ann called out “Catch me if you can,” she was passing a house where a dark-eyed boy was reading on the front steps. He put down his book and ran after Sally Ann and Casper and the red-haired boy and the two girls with long yellow pigtails. They all shouted to Sally Ann, “I can catch you!”
And they all did. But by that time, Sally Ann was back in her own yard. She said, “You all caught me. I’m Sally Ann, and this is my dog, Casper. Would you like to play another game?”
The red-haired boy and the two girls with long yellow pigtails and the dark-eyed boy all shouted, “Yes!” Casper barked his yes, too, and they played lots of games all afternoon.
Sally Ann loved her new home with the big yard and her room with the red and white butterflies on the curtains. And now, besides Casper, she had new friends to play with.

Brother Dai Endo of the Yokohama Japan Stake is an example of one who faithfully acted upon this principle. After serving for many years as a counselor in the stake presidency and then as president of the stake, Brother Endo was released in 2000. As he bore his testimony in stake conference at the time of his release, he expressed his love for the Saints and his gratitude for the blessing of serving them and the Lord. With a smile he said, “Next week I’ll probably be called to serve in the Primary.”

The following week Brother Endo’s bishop asked to meet with him and extended a call to him to serve as a Primary teacher. With humility the former stake president graciously accepted the call. His willingness to serve was not based on the status associated with the calling but instead on a desire to serve the Lord wherever he was called.

At age 22, Jill married Olga Kozáková. Like Jirí, Olga had been introduced to the Church as a teenager by school friends who had heard the missionaries preaching. “When I attended the lectures,” she says, “I felt very, very warm in my heart, and I said ‘I’m at home!’” She was baptized in Prague six months after Jirí was baptized in Plzen.

Jirí and Olga met later at an outing of young people from various branches. Groups of Saints went on outings every July 24th to Priests Hill near Karlstejn Castle to commemorate Elder John A. Widtsoe’s dedicatory prayer there on 24 July 1929. At times the youth had programs and competitions or studied scriptures together. Jirí and Olga were married 24 April 1954—Jirí’s 22nd birthday and the fifth anniversary of his baptism.

Soon thereafter, Jirí was drafted into mandatory military service. Regarded as an enemy of the state because of his religious affiliation, he spent his two-year stint in a military labor brigade rather than as a soldier. Turning to the Lord for strength, he endured, returning to civilian life “in good health and strengthened in the faith.”

A few years ago I was in a Salt Lake hospital emergency room with my sons and a neighbor boy—the result of a backyard touch football game.
While we waited in the emergency room for the doctor to put one of the participants back together, we saw a young lady brought into the hospital. She may have been 17—tall, willowy, well dressed, and having a wild reaction to an overdose of drugs. While we watched, she collapsed, and I thought, There is no way this young woman can survive this experience.
I wondered how she had come to this sad situation in her life. Had she not heard the words of the prophets? Had she heard them and laughed as if their words were the warnings of men out of touch with the realities of a modern world? Had one of us been negligent in our opportunities to teach her? Had her parents known the truth but not been willing or able to help her understand?
While waiting in that hospital thinking, pondering, and praying for her, I recalled a principle the Lord teaches us in the 89th section of the Doctrine and Covenants. It is found in the fourth verse:
“Behold, verily, thus saith the Lord unto you: In consequence of evils and designs which do and will exist in the hearts of conspiring men in the last days, I have warned you, and forewarn you, by giving unto you this word of wisdom by revelation” (D&C 89:4).
Consider carefully the principle: “I have warned you, and forewarn you, … by revelation.”
We in this church stand before the world, in all humility and sincerity, and declare that Joseph Smith Jr. was raised up by the Lord Jesus Christ and appointed to be the mortal instrument through which the doctrines, powers, keys, priesthood, and ordinances were restored to the earth. Since that day there has been a continual flow of revelation through those who have followed as the Lord’s appointed Apostles and prophets.
Today we sustain Gordon B. Hinckley as the President of the Church, as the prophet, seer, and revelator, and as the only one who possesses and is authorized to exercise all priesthood keys. We also sustain the First Presidency and the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles as prophets, seers, and revelators. Before he became the President of the Church, President Hinckley sat for many years as one of those men who hold this sacred revelatory power. He whom the Lord has called and we have sustained is not a novice in the principles, process, and practice of receiving divine direction.
There is a question that each of us must deal with in a most solemn and serious way if our lives are to be what the Father of us all would have them be. “What is our response when the living prophets declare the mind and will of the Lord?” This is the test of mankind in every dispensation.
I sat in this tabernacle some years ago as President Joseph Fielding Smith stood at this pulpit. It was the general priesthood meeting, the last general conference before President Smith passed away. He said: “There is one thing which we should have exceedingly clear in our minds. Neither the President of the Church, nor the First Presidency, nor the united voice of the First Presidency and the Twelve will ever lead the Saints astray or send forth counsel to the world that is contrary to the mind and will of the Lord.”
There came to me that evening a witness of the Spirit that he spoke the truth. I felt an overwhelming sense of peace and assurance that the Lord loved us and would not leave us without direction.
President J. Reuben Clark Jr. drew a very important distinction concerning revelation from the Lord:
“Some of the General Authorities have had assigned to them a special calling; they possess a special gift; they are sustained as prophets, seers, and revelators, which gives them a special spiritual endowment in connection with their teaching of the people. They have the right, the power, and authority to declare the mind and will of God to his people, subject to the over-all power and authority of the President of the Church.”
President Clark continues: “Others of the General Authorities are not given this special spiritual endowment and authority covering their teaching; they have a resulting limitation, and the resulting limitation upon their power and authority in teaching applies to every other officer and member of the Church, for none of them is spiritually endowed as a prophet, seer, and revelator.”
I emphasize that the rest of us do not have that specific power and authority. The Seventy have an endowment that is uniquely theirs; temple presidents and matrons, stake presidents and bishops, as well as fathers and mothers, have an endowment that is uniquely theirs; but none of us has the power, authority, or responsibility that is given to the First Presidency and the Twelve.
One’s intentions may be of the purest kind. The sincerity may be total and complete. Nevertheless, pure intentions and heartfelt sincerity do not give members of the Church authority to declare doctrine which is not sustained by the living prophets. While we are members of the Church, we are not authorized to publicly declare our speculations as doctrine nor to extend doctrinal positions to other conclusions based upon the reasoning of men and women, even by the brightest and most well-read among us.
The prophets are not only called to receive the doctrine and direct the ordinances through the keys they hold. They are also responsible to keep the saving doctrine pure so that people can hear and feel that doctrine in its sure and certain form.
Surrounded as we are by worldly influences, how can we maintain a sweetness of spirit and a humility that will make us receptive to such counsel? I fear that we have become so enamored with recreation, with fame and fortune, with videos, with television, and with what money can buy that we have little time for eternal things. Yet to obtain a knowledge of the doctrines of eternity requires sacrifice, effort, and struggle. Furthermore, we have learned to live in a world of clamor and noise and haste and hurry to the extent that we have often become immune to the Spirit of the Lord and the “peaceable things of the kingdom” (D&C 36:2).
How do we prepare ourselves to be in harmony with the First Presidency and the Council of the Twelve?
On one occasion during the Savior’s mortal ministry, he was challenged by those who were opposing him. They wondered how a person could speak with such certainty without the education of the world.
“Jesus answered them, and said, My doctrine is not mine, but his that sent me.
“If any man will do his will, he shall know of the doctrine, whether it be of God, or whether I speak of myself” (John 7:16–17; emphasis added).
We must learn the will of our Father in Heaven by earnest study. Next, we must act upon it. Study alone is not sufficient; we must act upon the words of revelation before we know of a surety of the truthfulness of the doctrines.
In all solemnity and soberness I state that God has made known to me in an unmistakable way that he has called and he sustains those who are the living prophets, seers, and revelators. The Lord God of Israel will direct them, and they will not lead us astray.
We do not need greater prophets. We need listening ears. We need hearts that are sufficiently pure that we can feel their words. We need souls that will commit to the keeping of our covenants.
My prayer is that each of us may have that watershed experience of life of having the Spirit carry with power—even fire—to our souls the assurance that we are being directed by His appointed servants.

Some 30 years ago, while working in the corporate world, some business associates and I were passing through O’Hare Airport in Chicago, Illinois. One of these men had just sold his company for tens of millions of dollars—in other words, he was not poor.
As we were passing a newspaper vending machine, this individual put a quarter in the machine, opened the door to the stack of papers inside the machine, and began dispensing unpaid-for newspapers to each of us. When he handed me a newspaper, I put a quarter in the machine and, trying not to offend but to make a point, jokingly said, “Jim, for 25 cents I can maintain my integrity. A dollar, questionable, but 25 cents—no, not for 25 cents.” You see, I remembered well the experience of three towels and a broken-down 1941 Hudson. A few minutes later we passed the same newspaper vending machine. I noticed that Jim had broken away from our group and was stuffing quarters in the vending machine. I tell you this incident not to portray myself as an unusual example of honesty, but only to emphasize the lessons of three towels and a 25-cent newspaper.

I would like to confess a time when I flunked. I had just finished my intern year in internal medicine at Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore, Maryland. I was a new resident and was working with a challenged intern. It was 2:00 a.m., and the intern was incapable of obtaining intravenous access for a critically ill patient. The intern had gone to bed and did not stay up to help. I meticulously placed a central line into the subclavian vein under the left collarbone.

After placing such a line, it is standard practice to obtain a chest X-ray to make sure that the procedure has not caused a complication. As the X-ray technician walked away down the hall after getting the X-ray, I checked on the patient before going downstairs to review the X-ray. To my horror, I saw that the central line that I had just so carefully placed had been ripped out of the patient as the technician had manipulated the hospital bed to get the X-ray.

On that hospital floor, at that time of night, there were just patients, several night nurses, and me. I let slip an expletive. One of the night nurses, Mrs. Paulee, who I did not know well, was shocked and said, in her quaint Baltimore accent, “Dr. Renlund! I never heard you cuss even when you were an intern.”

Well, that stung. After redoing the central line and reviewing a correctly obtained X-ray, I sought out Mrs. Paulee. I apologized and promised she would never again hear me cuss.

Without cutting me much slack, she simply said, “Well, I should hope not.”

I visited the hospital room of an old friend who had been diagnosed with terminal cancer. I took with me my two young daughters. I did not expect that she would even be able to recognize them. Her own family were gathered, standing around her bed as we entered.
She looked up and smiled. I will always remember her look as she saw that we had brought our daughters with us. She motioned them to come close to her on the bed. She sat up, held them, and introduced them to her family. She spoke of the greatness of those two little girls. It was as if she were presenting princesses to a royal court.
I expected our visit to end quickly. Surely, I thought, she is tired. But as I watched, it was as if the years melted away. She was radiant and obviously filled with love for all of us.
She seemed to savor the moment as if time had stopped. She had spent most of her life succoring children for the Lord. She knew from the account in the Book of Mormon that the resurrected Savior had taken little children one by one, blessed them, and then wept for joy.4 She had experienced that joy long enough herself to be able to endure in His loving service to the end.

About eight months into my mission in Brazil, I felt like the worst missionary ever. Nobody we were teaching was coming to church. It was difficult to find people who actually wanted to hear our message. We were striving to work hard and be obedient, but it didn’t seem to be paying off.
There was one day when I felt particularly down. We were searching for someone to teach, without luck, when a severe rainstorm rolled over us. The rain beat hard against our faces, and the sun faded behind huge black clouds. The streets quickly began to flood.
I couldn’t believe this was happening! Here we were, trying to be diligent, and not a soul was opening their door. Now, on top of that, we had a torrent of heavy rains to trudge through. It would be hard to find someone to teach in this awful weather. I just wanted to go back to the apartment, where it was dry and quiet. The storm got worse, so I suggested we go home.
But that didn’t feel right. The water was already to our calves, but a feeling came into my heart that we needed to keep walking. When I tried to ignore it, I remembered a line from our Missionary Handbook: “As you obey with a willing heart (see Doctrine and Covenants 64:34), you will show the Lord your love for Him” ([2010], 4).
Suddenly the warmth of God’s love filled my heart and made the cold, uncomfortable rain a little more bearable. I knew we needed to obey the prompting to show our love for Him, even if it was hard. So we kept walking.
The rain continued to pound as we knocked on dozens of doors. Most stayed closed. Some cracked open, only to shut seconds after. But we were determined to keep going. We even laughed as we splashed through the streets, realizing we were probably the only ones in the city crazy enough to be outside.
It was getting late when we came to a small, tin-roofed house. It was totally dark and appeared empty, but we knocked anyway. To our surprise, a woman answered and quickly invited us in to get shelter from the rain. We were so excited that someone had finally let us in!
The woman’s husband and two kids were there, and they smiled at us—apparently unbothered by the fact that we were dripping all over their floor. We introduced ourselves and asked if we could share a message about Jesus Christ, and they accepted.
The Spirit was present as we prayed with them and for them. They talked about the many struggles they’d had and how they felt a need to reconnect with God. There was a still, peaceful feeling that completely contradicted the violent tempest outside. It was the calm after the literal storm for us and, in many ways, the calm after a figurative storm for this family who had been through so much.
Throughout the next few days, I reflected on how silly it now seemed that I had thought my success as a missionary depended only on how many investigators came to church. What really mattered was helping people build relationships with God and find peace in Jesus Christ, even when they faced turbulent times. Doing this strengthened my own relationship with God.
I was transferred shortly after, and although I couldn’t keep teaching that family, I knew I’d always be grateful for the lesson I learned that night. The rainstorm had made me a better missionary and a better person.

My son, Chris, was in his senior year in high school and was enjoying a fourth year in the choir. He had worked hard, and his voice was very good, yet he had never tried out for the annual high school talent show before. This was the year he decided to try.
Chris said that he had decided to sing “How Great Thou Art.” I knew it was a song very close to his heart. I asked him why he would sing such a spiritual song in that setting. He said that he and his sisters had taken a lot of flack about believing in Jesus Christ. Many people at school and in the choir had accused them of not being real Christians. He felt strongly that this song would help settle the question once and for all that he did believe in and love the Savior.
I was scared for him and said I would support him in whatever he did. After successfully auditioning, Chris was notified that he was to be the last performer out of 18 acts.
On the night of the performance, the crowd went wild over the more extreme acts. Then there came a girl singing a country song. She had a lovely voice, but because the crowd would not calm down, she couldn’t hear her music and got off the beat. The crowd kept whistling and yelling, basically driving her off the stage.
At intermission Chris left the performers’ waiting area and made his way to us at the back of the gym. I wanted to be encouraging, but I also wanted to take him home. He calmly said, “I saw what the crowd did, and went off by myself backstage and prayed. I still feel like I should sing that song. It doesn’t matter whether they like it or not. I will have given my testimony of Christ, and that is why I came.”
I still felt afraid for him. Even though the director of the program had spoken to the crowd about their behavior, there was still a lot of noise. Two acts before Chris was a very popular rap group. They got the crowd going at such a high level we just sat in the middle of the noise and watched. After this group left the stage, about half the kids in the gym got up and left as if the show were over.
The act just before Chris was a blind girl and her friend playing a guitar duet. It changed the feeling and spirit in the gym. It was beautiful and sweet. As Chris moved onto the stage, we all prayed that he would do his best and that somehow it would be a positive experience. As his mother, I felt that I had let my son walk into the lion’s den and only the Lord could save him.
Chris’s music teacher had given him a mouth harp. That was the first sound we heard. Then his voice, sweet and clear, came across the gym to us. I could feel the feelings of love he had for the Savior as he sang all three verses. When he finished, half of the crowd gave him a standing ovation.
We waited around to hear the judges’ results. Chris had told us they usually voted for the group that was most popular with the crowd. Still, we decided to wait and see how things went. Then the judges announced the first-place winner as Christopher Tucker. We were all yelling, jumping up and down, and hugging each other.
What a night! We felt that winning was nice, but the most important thing was seeing the faith that our son had put into action.
Editor’s Note: Christopher is now serving a mission in the North Carolina Charlotte Mission.

Another set of choices has to do with selecting integrity over duplicity and virtue over vice. Our word should be as good as our bond. President Kimball taught that “one might be full of wit and humor; one might be dexterous in performance, but if he has not honor and integrity, he has little or nothing” (TSWK, p. 388). We must decide our direction. We must determine who it is that we would like to become. As President Benson said:
Most individuals do not intend to be dishonest, dishonorable, or immoral. They seem to allow their characters to erode by a series of rationalizations, lies, and compromises. Then when grave temptation presents itself, they haven’t the strength of character to do what they know to be right. [TETB, p. 367]
Cheating, defrauding, flattering, and deceiving do not establish a basis of trust for family life, friendship, or career. The student who, in the midst of egregious violation of Church standards and Honor Code expectations, tells himself, “Don’t think about being a BYU student, a temple-attending returned missionary who is employed by the Church, because if you do you will not be able to savor this moment, you will have to stop what you are now doing,” is absorbed in deeply deceptive behavior that cheats and defrauds self more than others. A total lack of sensitivity to the absence of personal integrity and the integrity of the institutions affected by the action seems clear.
On the other hand, a student who has violated Church and Honor Code standards, who accepts responsibility for what has been done, who is remorseful, who confesses the violation, and who takes every step within the range of possibility to make amends, now says, “I wish that every student could have experienced what I have experienced because the experience has blessed my life. We all take the gospel, our membership in the Church, our student status, and the Honor Code too lightly. But it is better to not have to learn this the hard way. I will do everything in my power to help others avoid doing what I have done.” This student has vigorously affirmed the desire to make integrity a central feature of daily living.

“I have seen that promise fulfilled in my own life and in the lives of others. A friend of mine served as a mission president. He told me that at the end of every day while he was serving, he could barely make it upstairs to bed at night wondering if he would have the strength to face another day. Then in the morning, he would find his strength and his courage restored. You have seen it in the lives of aged prophets who seemed to be renewed each time they stood to testify of the Lord Jesus Christ and the restored gospel. That is a promise for those who go forward in faith in their priesthood service.”
President Henry B. Eyring, “Faith and the Oath and Covenant of the Priesthood,” Liahona, May 2008, 62.

In my training as a new General Authority, I found myself in Costa Rica with Elder F. Arthur Kay and others. In prayer and fasting, we visited families who were less active. The stake president and bishops had fasted and prayed that the Lord would indicate to them the choice families to be visited, and the families were then notified of the planned visits.

We first entered the home of a young, successful businessman with a lovely wife and children. A former leader, he had transgressed the laws of the Church. As the Spirit of the Lord spoke through his servants, tears came to all our eyes as the couple committed to prepare to go to the Lord’s house, the beautiful new temple in Guatemala, to be sealed for eternity.

About 20 years ago I was assigned to go to Montevideo, Uruguay, to tour the mission and dedicate the first chapel built in that city. During the previous year President David O. McKay had broken ground for that chapel, hoping that he could return and dedicate it. Other duties prevented his doing so, and hence I was sent.
After our dedicatory service an Italian sister came up to shake hands. Before doing so she held out her right hand and asked me to look at it. I did but saw nothing unusual about it. Then she called my attention to a scar in the palm of her hand and explained:
“When President McKay was here to break ground for our chapel,” she said, “I had a cancer in the palm of my hand. The doctors could not help me, and the cancer was spreading. I felt impressed by the Holy Spirit that if I could just touch President McKay’s hand, my cancer would be healed.
“Many people went forward to greet the president, and because there were so many, I became discouraged. But my prompting continued. I felt it was the Holy Spirit urging me on. I did meet the president. My right hand was heavily bandaged, so I had to shake hands with my left hand.
“When I returned home I took the bandage off and to my great delight saw that the cancer was already drying up. I now show you this right hand, all healed, and I want you to tell President McKay about it.”