Gospel Story Finder

The hours that followed were a blur—our phones constantly ringing with calls or pinging with texts from concerned friends and family, most of which we were unable to answer.
In the midst of it all, I felt an urgent need to call my aunt, whom I’ve probably called five times in my entire life. But every time I see her, she always seems to say something that my soul needs.
When she answered, I was surprised by her upbeat and confident response. “Noelle,” she said, “this is a miracle! You got out!” She continued, “This is only the first of many miracles. Watch and see what the Lord has in store for you. He will lead you to where you need to be.”
I wanted to believe my aunt—to believe in Him. But the grief was real, and the tears were many. The problems seemed too complex to solve, and our hearts seemed too broken to mend. There were times when I would crumble beneath the weight of trying to rebuild an entire life from scratch. I wondered quietly, and desperately, “Will He really lead us now? What will we do if He doesn’t come?” But during the weeks and months following the explosion, we watched in amazement as my aunt’s faithful prediction proved true, and our broken hearts were bound up again and again. I did not know that extreme grief and profound gratitude could co-exist.
My aunt promised, “Watch and see what the Lord has in store for you. He will lead you to where you need to be.”

To understand the implied responsibility each of you have as recipients of this investment, I want to share with you a story of someone who didn't start with as much opportunity or life resources as many of today's BYU-Idaho students. Heber J. Grant was raised by a single mother. He grew up in poverty, in a home where his mother was forced to take in boarders to help provide for the family. And yet, despite these challenges, Heber J. Grant would go on to do remarkable things and later be called as an Apostle and eventually as the President of the Church. But despite his initial liability of growing up in poverty and without a father, Heber J. Grant did have one distinct advantage in his life.

After his father was buried, his bishop, Edwin D. Woolley, gave him a name and a blessing. In that blessing, Bishop Woolley saw by revelation that the infant boy would one day become an Apostle of the Church.[5] As President Henry B. Eyring later described, "People then and since have called Heber J. Grant a 'child of promise.' He was. But his departed father didn't make the promises to the child, [nor did Bishop Woolley]. His Heavenly Father did."[6]

Illustration by Dan Burr
My siblings and I always wanted a horse. When I was about 9 or 10 years old, my dad bought a beautiful black mare. We named her Yancy. We were so excited to have this horse, but she hadn’t been trained to be ridden. We were too young to do all the hard work it takes to train a horse, so my dad asked a friend who knew a lot about horses to help train Yancy.
We often went to the pasture to see Yancy. We couldn’t wait for the day we could ride her. But no matter how hard anyone tried, no one could train Yancy. She was too stubborn. We were never able to ride her.
One day my dad’s friend tried to ride her in a parade. As Yancy and her rider were going down the road, Yancy bucked the rider off and started to run through the city. Yancy ran so wildly that she cut her leg on a fire hydrant. I chased after Yancy and found her lying in the street in pain.
I was sad. We loved Yancy. If she had been obedient to the trainer, she could have become a happy horse with a wonderful life. But Yancy wouldn’t listen to and follow her master. Instead she was now injured and lying in the street.
Yancy’s story taught me of the blessings that come when we follow the Master, our Savior Jesus Christ. When we are kind and gentle and humble, we can be happy as we let the Savior lead us.

The noise level in my biology class was rising rapidly. You could feel the students’ excitement for the Christmas break. The teachers couldn’t hold the students’ attention on this Friday afternoon. As a class officer, I had been working along with others gathering donations to give to families in need at Christmastime. That weekend we would shop for gifts and food and make the deliveries.
It was finally the big day. Divided into groups, we were given envelopes which contained the money that we were to spend on our assigned families. We were given just the ages of those we were to buy for, no names.
When we were finished shopping, we wrapped the gifts and piled the food into boxes. We soon found ourselves inside the vans that were taking us to the homes to deliver the gifts. After stopping out of sight of the home, we carefully and quietly spaced ourselves three feet apart. A signal was given quietly, and the presents went one by one through each of our hands until they reached the front step.
As I took a moment to look around, it seemed as if time had stood still. It was such a magical moment. The silence that penetrated that spot of ground was amazing. I wanted to capture that moment of peaceful, heart-felt giving. It was as if the group of us were angels doing the Lord’s work through secret acts of service. The dreamlike state I was in was quickly dimmed by a nudge. It was time to get into the vans. Someone rang the doorbell, and before we had a chance to leave, we were caught! The mother took one long look at the pile of gifts and food, and with a tear-streamed face said, “Thank you, thank you. Merry Christmas.” We darted off into different directions until we reached the van. Our teenage hearts were definitely filled with good feelings. We continued to deliver gifts for the next hour.

I love the account of the arrival to the Salt Lake Valley of a large number of converts from England and Wales in 1852. The group was met by the First Presidency at the mouth of Emigration Canyon, accompanied by Captain Pitt’s Band. The Deseret News described them as “a band of pilgrims [including] sisters and children, walking, sunburnt, and weather-beaten, but not forlorn; their hearts were light and buoyant, which was plainly manifest by their happy and joyful countenances.”

As they “passed the Temple Block, … thousands of men, women, and children, gathered, from various parts of the city, to unite in the glorious and joyful welcome.” President Brigham Young addressed them: “May the Lord God of Israel bless you. … We have prayed for you continually; thousands of prayers have been offered up for you, day by day, to Him who has commanded us to gather Israel, save the children of men by the preaching of the gospel, and prepare them for the coming of the Messiah.”

We catch a glimpse of what forgiveness meant to Joseph in his letters to Emma. He revealed more of himself to her than to anyone–even his brother Hyrum. In 1832, on his way back to Kirtland from Missouri, Joseph had to stop in Indiana after Newell K. Whitney broke his leg in a runaway carriage accident. For a month Joseph was forced into inactivity, and without something to do, became melancholy. Deep regrets about his life came flooding back. He wrote to Emma that he went every day to a grove outside the town to pray.

“I have Called to mind all the past moments of my life and am left to morn and Shed tears of sorrow for my folly in Suffering the adversary of my Soul to have so much power over me as he has had in times past but God is merciful and has f[o]rgiven my Sins and I r[e]joice that he Sendeth forth the Comforter unto as many as believe and humbleth themselves before him.” He sounded very much like Nephi in 2 Nephi 4 who lamented: “O wretched man that I am.” [3] Both men felt deeply the need for mercy and forgiveness.

After telling Emma of his misery, thoughts of death came to him. Joseph wrote:

"I will try to be contented with my lot knowing that God is my friend in him I shall find comfort I have given my life into his hands I am prepared to go at his Call I desire to be with Christ I Count not my life dear to me only to do his will."

Several years ago I visited an isolated oasis deep in the Gobi Desert in China. Some 80 miles from the nearest town, the oasis was in a small canyon that had been occupied by a handful of Buddhist monks for hundreds of years. In this incredibly isolated spot, the monks could avoid the temptations of the world and focus only on Buddhist teachings. In Latter-day Saint terms, these monks were trying to flee Babylon.
Most of us have elected not to dwell in total isolation but to live in the civilized world. This decision requires us to interact daily with the world and to face the challenge of doing business in Babylon even as we attempt to follow the Lord’s command to “go . . . out . . . from Babylon, from the midst of wickedness” (D&C 133:14).

As we talk, Tyson Warner tells of when things changed in his life. He had just been ordained to the priesthood and felt it was time, as he put it, to step up. “When I was about 12, I had a hard time reading the scriptures regularly. I made a goal that I would give up sleeping in, and I would wake up 30 minutes earlier every morning and spend the time reading my scriptures. It was difficult. I thought, ‘What’s the point in doing this?’ After a month I started to feel changes in my life. I was more in tune with the Spirit. I started noticing things in the scriptures better than I could before. That’s how I knew the Church is true.”
Now, four years later, Tyson says, “I like the book of Alma because that was what I was reading when I really started to feel the Spirit. That book is special to me. It was a turning point in my life. I gained a strong testimony.”

A few summers ago, my ward’s young men went mountain biking. I was a little nervous because it was my first time. My friend Jacob was an experienced biker, so I planned to stay close to him.
After a quick break at the top, we started back down the mountain. I was slower than the rest of the group and fell behind, especially after I fell a couple times on sharp turns. Jacob stopped to help me each time I fell, and we tried to catch up to the group.
As the sun set, it was obvious that we were lost. It had been more than half an hour since we had seen our group, and it was getting so dark that we could barely see the trail. I prayed, asking Heavenly Father for help and courage to keep going. Then Jacob and I decided to continue riding in a particular direction. As we rounded a corner, we saw the most brilliant and welcome sight—the Draper Utah Temple! The light reflecting off the temple illuminated our path, and we were able to safely make it back to our leaders and friends.
Every time I see the temple, I’m reminded of the peace and help available to us there. Each time I feel lost in the darkness of the world, I can look to the temple for the light I need.
Joel G., Utah, USA

As the lessons continued to develop, we saw their testimonies of the gospel grow as they studied and prayed with a desire to know whether the Church was true. Generally we waited until our investigators indicated they had no more questions and had a witness from the Spirit before inviting them to join the Church. In one instance, one of our friends had us come to his home five times after he and his wife had completed the lessons. Each time we answered his questions for about an hour, and he considered our answers. Finally he had no more questions, and he and his wife, both of whom by that time had gained a testimony and had a desire to become members of the Church, readily accepted our invitation to be baptized.

I grew up in a comfortable environment in Logan, Utah. I had no childhood worries about food or shelter or education. But perhaps because life was easy, I needed something to hold on to that would anchor me.
For me that anchor was the priesthood of God. I was in an unusual situation when I was growing up. My dad was called to be the bishop when I was a year old, and he was my bishop for 19 years. His fatherly and spiritual guidance was a tremendous help to me.
I think that is mostly why I looked forward to receiving the Aaronic Priesthood on my 12th birthday. I remember the special day I felt my father’s hands on my head as he ordained me. After that, I advanced through the offices of the Aaronic Priesthood and received callings I enjoyed very much.
Passing the sacrament was very special to me. You could see people commit themselves to obey the Lord and keep His commandments as they partook of the emblems of His body and blood.
As time progressed, I graduated from high school, and then after a year in college, I was called on a mission. I enjoyed every minute of it and loved my companions. One in particular was a strength to me. I learned much from him as we fulfilled our responsibilities.
Because the country was at war, when I returned from my mission I joined the United States Marine Corps. When the war was over, I returned to college, married, and started a family. Successive professional moves took me to many places across the United States, where I learned much as I served in many priesthood callings. I finally landed in Boston, Massachusetts, where I served as a stake president. It was from there that I was called to be an Assistant to the Twelve and then, after 17 months, to the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles.
What have I learned as a member of the Quorum of the Twelve?
I’ve learned that there is a guide, an anchor, and a protection in the priesthood.
The priesthood has always existed. Before Adam came to earth, he had the priesthood. As Adam’s posterity scattered with the priesthood, it became necessary to organize how the priesthood was administered. The Lord did that by calling Abraham to preside over his family of priesthood holders. This organization continued under Isaac and Jacob, whose name was later changed to Israel.
Centuries later, the children of Israel found themselves in captivity. The Lord sent Moses to deliver them, but when he did, they proved themselves not ready as a people for the Melchizedek Priesthood. So they were left with the Aaronic Priesthood until the time of the Savior.
I find it very interesting what the Savior did first as He began His ministry. He organized the Melchizedek Priesthood. He called twelve Apostles and taught them the laws and order of the priesthood. He called Peter to be the chief Apostle, establishing a line of authority in His Church. In that day and this, it is Jesus Christ who selects His chief Apostle to preside over the Church, and it is the Savior who directs him in his priesthood duties.
So the priesthood has a direct line from our Lord and Savior through the chief Apostle to the other Apostles and on to the other priesthood holders in the Church. Keys of authority are given to the Apostles, and as long as those keys are on the earth, we will be guided by the Lord Himself. This divine direction protects us and assures us that the Church will not vary from the truth. It will remain consistent because it is not directed by any earthly being. It is directed by the Lord.
The greatest advice I have for you young men is to study the doctrines of the priesthood, understand the power you have in exercising your priesthood, and learn how it can bless your lives and the lives of others.
I promise if you’ll learn the doctrines of the priesthood and fulfill your priesthood duties, the priesthood will be a sure anchor that will keep you spiritually safe and bring you great joy. Be a true priesthood quorum. Reach out to your friends and bring them into your quorum. Create a brotherhood in your quorum that will be a permanent foundation for your lives.

Elder Russell M. Nelson illustrated this point. He said: “I was serving as a consultant to the United States government at its National Center for Disease Control in Atlanta, Georgia. Once while awaiting a taxi to take me to the airport after our meetings were over, I stretched out on the lawn to soak in a few welcome rays of sunshine before returning to the winter weather of Utah. … Later I received a photograph in the mail taken by a photographer with a telephoto lens, capturing my moment of relaxation on the lawn. Under it was a caption, ‘Governmental consultant at the National Center.’ The picture was true, the caption was true, but the truth was used to promote a false impression.”17 We do not discard something we know to be true because of something we do not yet understand.

President Harold B. Lee told of calling a patriarch. He and the stake president had gone to the man’s home. He had been out with his sons on the welfare farm all day and was tired and weary and covered with grime.
President Lee said, “I made him more weary when I told him what it was I had come for—that he was to be called as the patriarch to that stake.”
After the morning session of conference, where the man had borne a remarkable testimony, they went to a basement office.
The stake president’s wife was present and wrote to President Lee: “As you walked over to put your hands on [his] head, I thought to myself, He is a man with whom we socialize. We have gone on trips with him, to dances. … Now part of his responsibility is to declare the lineage from which each one has come in these blessings. He hasn’t been a student of ancient languages—how is he going to know?
“… You walked over and put your hands on his head, and a light came from behind you and went right through you and into him. And I thought to myself, Isn’t that a strange coincidence that the sunlight has come in just at that moment. And then I realized that there was [no window,] no sunlight. I was witnessing the answer to my question. … That light came from somewhere beyond Brother Lee and went through Brother Lee into this patriarch. Then I knew where he was going to get that information—by the revelations of Almighty God.”
And so it must be. Whenever a patriarch is ordained or pronounces a blessing, that same light, though it may be unseen, is present. It empowers a patriarch to declare lineage and to give a prophetic blessing, notwithstanding that he himself may be a man of very ordinary capacity.

Some years ago a faithful convert, Brother George McLaughlin, was called to preside over a small branch of 20 members in Farmingdale, Maine. He was a humble man who drove a milk delivery truck for a living. Through his fasting and earnest prayer, the Spirit taught him what he and the members of his branch needed to do to help the Church grow in their area. Through his great faith, constant prayer, and powerful example, he taught his members how to share the gospel. It’s a marvelous story—one of the great missionary stories of this dispensation. In just one year there were 450 convert baptisms in the branch. The next year there were an additional 200 converts. President McLaughlin indicated: “My job as branch president was to teach [the new converts] how to be Mormons. I had to teach them how to give talks and lessons in church. I had to teach them how to teach the gospel to their children. I trained the new members to become strong members.” Pretty simple.

Just five years later, the Augusta Maine Stake was organized. Much of the leadership of that new stake came from those converts in the Farmingdale Branch. Now we might ask why there was such great success in those days, and the answer may be because of the urgent need to strengthen the Church. Let me assure you that that same urgency in all units of the Church is every bit as critical today as it was then.

Among my heroes are those great souls President Shumway told us about in his book Tongan Saints. One of those is Mosese Lui Muti from Uiha Ha'apai, Tonga. He is one of my heroes because his faith was pure. He loved the Lord, and he loved fulfilling his calling in the Church.

After his first mission, he returned to his young wife, and was thereafter, called to be the secretary of the Sunday School and the clerk of the whole branch.

Listen to his words, "I cherished these assignments in our little branch and performed them with care and attention. Even when I got a painting job with Burns Philp, Ltd., and took Salavia with me to Pangai during the week, we would always catch a boat back to Uiha on Saturday afternoon and spend Sunday there. I simply could not neglect my calling."

Time will not allow us to read all of his beautiful testimony, but with President Shumway's permission, I will paraphrase the rest of his story. One Saturday they went to the dock to catch the boat home, and there was no boat. Most of us would have said, "Well, we tried, but there's no boat. Guess we'll just have to spend the weekend here. Besides, it won't matter if I miss just this one Sunday." Not Mosese!

Even though it was 9:00 p.m. and on a pitch black night, he decided that he'd swim the mile or so to the Island of Uoleva and from there swim across one of the most treacherous channels in Tonga, the Auhangamea Channel, and on to home.

The ocean was rough and the current strong, but he felt no danger. When his feet touched the sands of Uoleva, he crossed over to the other side of the island, waded into the channel and started to swim for home.

He hadn't gone forty yards when a voice spoke to his mind to look back. He looked back and saw a light in the thick undergrowth of the island. The voice urged him to turn and go back. He did. There in the undergrowth, he found the hull of a canoe, but that would be useless unless he had an outrigger. At that moment, the light which had guided him to the canoe moved away into the bush about ten yards, to a fine unattached outrigger with sennit rope to bind it to the canoe. He lashed the canoe and outrigger together, then went in search of something to use for a paddle. He hadn't gone more than a few yards when he literally stumbled over the stalk of a large coconut palm frond that had been cut and shaped into a paddle.

Despite the heavy sea and blackness of the night he crossed the channel safely and landed at 4:00 a.m. in the morning on the beach on his home island. Pulling the canoe up onto the sand he paused briefly to offer a prayer of thanks and went to his home.

He slept a few short hours, went to the chapel, completed his assignments, and returned back, exactly as he had come, leaving the canoe where he found it and swimming the rest of the way.

Listen to his words: "I have since contemplated this experience many times and have marveled that I should not have taken such risks. I have thought of the blackness of the night, the roughness of the ocean, the strange concentrated light that guided me to the canoe, a light I have not seen before or since my lack of fear and my love for my church assignment to be a secretary in the Kingdom of God was more important to me than nearly anything else."

My mind raced again that day in youth conference to a high school friend, Paul. All he ever wanted to be was a missionary. When he got his call to the Nevada Las Vegas Mission, he was as happy as anyone I had ever known. A few months into that mission, he and his companion were chased on their bikes by a vicious German shepherd dog. In an effort to confuse the dog they split up, and while looking back at the animal, Paul rode his ten-speed into a huge hole in the street. The city had dug it in an effort to repair a leaking water pipe. Paul was badly injured and spent many months recovering in the hospital.

All he could think of during his recuperation was the missed opportunity to be a missionary. It depressed and upset him. His grandfather stopped by one night to visit and they talked. Grandpa listened to Paul’s concerns and desires.

“Paul,” his grandfather counseled, “you can be a missionary every minute of every day of the rest of your life. You can be whatever you want, but as you choose, decide to be like the Savior.” That night Paul made peace with himself.

My friend is happily married these days and raising a nice family. He is striving to become like Christ.

It was never easy for any of them. Bob has worked hard in his service as a stake president. Paul has worked diligently to be a good young father. Mom has dealt with many crises in her life. They all have tried to face their obstacles in a Christlike way. Pain, hurt, and dread have been a part of their lives. It was part of Christ’s life, too!

Bob doesn’t fly jets anymore. He is now serving as a mission president. Paul is now a stake missionary. Mom has never danced professionally, though she has used her musical talents on numerous occasions. She is now serving a full-time mission with her husband. Each has lived a good and faithful life.

I have a dear friend who is a brilliant, retired university professor, a prolific author, and, above all, a committed disciple of Jesus Christ. He has visited the Holy Land dozens of times to participate in conferences, conduct academic research, and lead tours. According to him, every time he visits the land where Jesus walked, he marvels because he undoubtedly learns something new, astonishing, and fascinating about the Savior, His mortal ministry, and His beloved homeland. The awe my friend shows when he talks about all that he learns in the Holy Land is contagious, and this amazement has been fundamental in his great achievements and academic pursuits in his life.
As I have listened to his experiences and felt of his enthusiasm, I have reflected on how much more spiritual wonder, so to speak, that we can and should feel for the gospel of Jesus Christ and the difference it can make in our discipleship and in our journey toward eternal life. The wonder I refer to is the sensation of emotion, awe, or amazement common to all who wholeheartedly center their lives on the Savior and His teachings and humbly recognize His presence in their lives. Such a feeling of wonder, inspired by the influence of the Holy Ghost, stimulates the enthusiasm to joyfully live the doctrine of Christ.
The scriptures contain several examples of how this sensation is manifest. The prophet Isaiah, for example, expressed the depth of his gratitude for the Lord through his rejoicing in Him. Those who heard Jesus preaching in the synagogue at Capernaum were astonished at His doctrine and the strength with which He taught. It was this same feeling that penetrated every fiber of young Joseph Smith’s heart as he read from the Bible the first chapter of James, leading him to seek the wisdom of God.
My brothers and sisters, when we truly are in awe of Jesus Christ and His gospel, we are happier, we have more enthusiasm for God’s work, and we recognize the Lord’s hand in all things. Additionally, our study of God’s words is more meaningful; our prayers, more intentional; our worship, more reverent; our service in God’s kingdom, more diligent. All these actions contribute to the Holy Spirit’s influence being more frequent in our lives. Thus, our testimony of the Savior and His gospel will be strengthened, we will keep Christ alive in us, and we will live our lives “rooted and built up in him, and stablished in the faith, … abounding therein with thanksgiving.” When we live in this way, we become more spiritually resilient and protected against falling into the trap of spiritual apathy.
Such apathy is characterized by the gradual loss of our excitement to engage fully in the Lord’s gospel. It generally begins when we are feeling that we have already attained all the necessary knowledge and blessings for our happiness in this life. This complacency, so to speak, causes us to take the gospel gifts for granted, and from then on, we run the risk of neglecting both our regular immersion in the essentials of the gospel of Jesus Christ and the covenants we have made. Consequently, we gradually distance ourselves from the Lord, weakening our ability to “hear Him,” becoming indifferent and insensitive to the greatness of His work. Doubt regarding the truths we have already received may enter our mind and heart, making us vulnerable to the enemy’s temptations.
Pastor Aiden Wilson Tozer, a renowned writer and valiant Christian, wrote, “Complacency is a deadly foe of all spiritual growth.” Wasn’t this exactly what happened to the people of Nephi shortly after the birth of Christ? They “began to be less and less astonished at a sign or a wonder from heaven, … [disbelieving] all which they had heard and seen.” Thus did Satan “blind their eyes and lead them away to believe that the doctrine of Christ was a foolish and a vain thing.”
My beloved brothers and sisters, in His perfect and infinite love and knowing our human nature, the Savior has established the way for us to avoid falling into the trap of spiritual apathy. The Savior’s invitation gives us a broader perspective, especially considering the complex world in which we live: “Learn of me, and listen to my words; walk in the meekness of my Spirit, and you shall have peace in me.” As we accept the Savior’s invitation, we demonstrate our humility, our desire to be teachable, and our hope to become more like Him. This invitation also includes serving Him and ministering to God’s children “with all [our] heart, might, mind and strength.” At the core of our effort in this journey are, of course, the two great commandments: to love the Lord our God and love our neighbor as ourselves.
This type of behavior is part of Jesus’s divine character and was evident in everything He did during His earthly ministry. Therefore, when we intentionally and truly dedicate ourselves to look unto Him and learn from His perfect example, we come to know Him better. We grow in enthusiasm and desire to incorporate into our lives the ultimate standard of how we should live, the example we should set, and the commandments we should follow. We also gain additional understanding, wisdom, divine character, and grace toward God and our neighbors. I can assure you that our ability to feel the Savior’s influence and love will be intensified in our lives, magnifying our faith, our desire to act righteously, and the motivation to serve Him and others. In addition, our gratitude for the blessings and challenges we experience in mortality will solidify and become part of our true worship.
My dear friends, all these things strengthen our spiritual wonder regarding the gospel and move us to joyfully keep the covenants we make with the Lord—even in the midst of the trials and challenges we experience. Of course, for these outcomes to happen, we need to immerse ourselves with faith and real intent in the Savior’s teachings, striving to incorporate His attributes into our way of being. In addition, we need to draw nearer to Him through our repentance, seeking His forgiveness and His redeeming power in our lives and keeping His commandments. The Lord Himself promised that He would direct our paths if we would trust in Him with all our hearts, acknowledging Him in all our ways and not leaning on our own understanding.
A man I met recently, whose name is Wes and who is attending the conference today, accepted Christ’s invitation to learn of Him and of His gospel and began to experience the awe of His love after 27 years of distancing himself from the covenant path. He told me that one day he was contacted via Facebook by a missionary, Elder Jones, who was temporarily assigned to Wes’s area before going to his originally assigned mission in Panama. When Elder Jones came across Wes’s profile, not even knowing beforehand that he was already a member of the Church, he felt the guidance of the Holy Ghost and knew that he should immediately contact Wes. He quickly acted on this impression. Wes was amazed by this unexpected contact and began to realize that the Lord was aware of him despite his distance from the covenant path.
From then on, Wes and the missionaries began to communicate frequently. Elder Jones and his companion provided weekly acts of service and spiritual messages that helped Wes to recover his awe of the Savior and His gospel. It rekindled the flame of his testimony of the truth and of the Savior’s love for him. Wes felt the peace that comes from the Comforter and gained the strength he needed to return to the fold. He told me that this experience brought him spiritually and emotionally back to life and helped him to eliminate the feelings of bitterness accumulated over the years because of the difficult experiences he had been through.
As my aforementioned thoughtful professor friend has observed, there is always something wonderful and fascinating to learn about Jesus Christ and His gospel. The Lord has made wonderful promises that are extended to all those, including us, who seek to learn of Him and incorporate His words into their lives. To Enoch, He said, “Behold my Spirit [shall be] upon you, wherefore all thy words will I justify; and the mountains shall flee before you, and the rivers shall turn from their course; and thou shalt abide in me, and I in you.” Through His servant King Benjamin, He declared, “Ye shall be called the children of Christ, his sons, and his daughters; for behold, this day he hath spiritually begotten you; for ye say that your hearts are changed through faith on his name; therefore, ye are born of him and have become his sons and his daughters.”
Therefore, as we genuinely and continually strive to learn of the Savior and follow His example, I promise you, in His name, that His divine attributes will be written in our minds and hearts, that we will become more like Him, and that we will walk with Him.
My beloved brothers and sisters, I pray that we will ever stand in awe of Jesus Christ and His complete, infinite, and perfect love. May the remembrance of what our eyes have seen and our hearts have felt increase our amazement at the Savior’s atoning sacrifice, which can heal us of our spiritual and emotional wounds and help us to draw closer to Him. May we marvel at the great promises that the Father has in His hands and that He has prepared for those who are faithful:
“The kingdom is yours and the blessings thereof are yours, and the riches of eternity are yours.
“And he who receiveth all things with thankfulness shall be made glorious.”
Jesus is the Redeemer of the world, and this is His Church. I bear witness of these truths in the awe-inspiring, sacred, and sublime name of our Savior, Jesus Christ, amen.

Recently our son who is serving as a Bishop received a late night call requesting that he visit a man who was in deep trouble. The man had recently made some serious errors in judgment that had precipitated trouble with the law and now he was in the hospital seeking help. Though our son had known the man for sometime, he had not seen him for several months. When our son approached the hospital bed he saw a man whose countenance had changed. He had lost the light he once enjoyed. As they talked together our son asked, "When you made the choices that have caused you to be in this sad situation were you praying each day? "No," he sadly answered. "When did you last read your scriptures?" With downcast eyes he said, "I guess I haven't read them in over a year." "Have you been attending church?" "No, I have been much too busy."

My dear brothers and sisters, can we be too busy to do the things that will keep our testimony alive and well?

I appreciate the sacrifices made by the pioneers in our behalf. My great-grandfather, James Jack, became converted to the Church while he lived in Scotland. He sailed to the United States and made the trek across the plains to the Salt Lake Valley, where he became the personal secretary to Brigham Young. After President Young’s death, James Jack served as secretary to other prophets as well. I have a great deal of respect for my great-grandfather. He left a comfortable life in Scotland to travel all the way to Utah, and he lived in difficult times. I appreciate his courage, his faith, and especially his willingness to do whatever he was asked to do in service to the Lord.

Thirteen-year-old Henry Sanderson, on his way from Connecticut to Nauvoo, Illinois, was not sure if he was riding a railroad train or a boat on wheels.
This was September 1842, and Pennsylvania’s forests were becoming dotted with the reds and golds of autumn. To cross the Allegheny Mountains, Henry boarded a train with his parents and two younger sisters. It had a steam engine like a normal train, but the passenger cars were actually boats on train wheels. Near the mountain summit, trainmen unhooked the engine and snapped a cable to the cars. A motor at the top wound the cable and pulled the train cars up. At the summit, men released the cars and let them coast down the other side of the mountains without any engine at all. Then, for Henry’s final train-boat adventure, trainmen removed the wheels and put the boat-cars into a canal. Horses on a towpath beside the canal pulled Henry’s boat-car to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.
Henry knew his stay in Pittsburgh would be short, lasting only one winter. His parents, James and Mary Jane Sanderson, had joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints a few months earlier and had decided to move to Nauvoo. Henry felt glad to move because boys in his neighborhood in Norwalk, Connecticut, had made fun of him after his parents were baptized. At Pittsburgh, Henry helped his father do shoemaker’s work, a skill Henry had learned from him.
Late the next spring, the Sandersons boarded a steamboat and churned down the Ohio River and up the Mississippi River. They reached Nauvoo in the summer of 1843 when Henry was 14 and Nauvoo was barely four years old. Henry found young Nauvoo filled with new buildings, most of them small and made of wood, with taller brick houses here and there. Embracing the city on the west was a broad, crescent-shaped bend of the Mississippi River.
Soon after Henry’s family arrived, he hiked up the bluffs to visit the temple construction project. He walked around the 60-centimeter-high walls that workers were building skyward. He inspected the red brick store whose upper floor was the headquarters for the Church. On Main Street he found a brick post office and the Merryweather store.
The Sandersons became neighbors of Joseph Smith on Main Street, two blocks from the river. Henry’s parents moved into a log cabin next to Sidney Rigdon’s home, which stood between them and the Smiths’ new residence, the Mansion House. Henry saw workers put the final touches on the Mansion House, which the Smiths opened that September as a hotel.
Henry played with the Prophet’s sons. The oldest was Joseph Smith III, three years younger than Henry. Henry became best friends with Sidney Rigdon’s sons, Algernon and John W., who were near his age.
In Nauvoo, men and boys paid their tithing by working every 10th day on building projects. “My father and myself went regularly every 10th day to labor on the temple,” Henry said, “sometimes at the quarry and other times on the temple grounds.”
Henry, who knew and liked the Prophet, “had been to his house frequently and played with his boys and he would occasionally join us. I had been in games of ball where the Prophet was one of the players.”
Henry, 15, was outside his house when Joseph Smith left for Carthage. Henry saw Joseph shake hands and exchange canes with a stranger. Then Joseph rode away. That was the last time he saw the Prophet alive. Henry first heard the tragic news from Carthage Jail “when a runner went past our house shouting that the Prophet was killed.”
A day or two later Henry and crowds of others visited the Mansion House, where “I saw their murdered bodies after they were brought from Carthage.” The murders were “a sad blow to my father,” Henry said, “and for a time he was at a loss to know what the results would be, but [he] finally settled to the conviction that the Church would continue its progress and that the Twelve Apostles were the proper leaders.”
Needing income, Henry and his father went downriver to St. Louis, Missouri, to find jobs. His father joined George Betts’s shoe shop, which employed 25 men. Henry took a job at a small shop belonging to three LDS shoemakers. His mother and sisters joined them in St. Louis in the spring.
Henry’s good friends from Nauvoo, Algernon and John Rigdon, visited him in his new home. Their father, who had been Joseph Smith’s counselor, had decided to leave the Church and was moving to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. In “the last conversation that I had with them as we were saying good-bye,” Henry said, “the boys declared that they would return to the Church. … Knowing they were … sincere, I expected for some years to hear from them but was disappointed.” (John Rigdon rejoined the Church in 1904 just before he died.)
Mr. Betts sent Henry’s father to work on a farm that the Mississippi River had flooded the year before. The Sandersons moved there and lived in a “very good log house.” They plowed and planted, and the farm prospered. But with the summer heat, river sickness (probably malaria) struck the family. Henry’s father suffered the most and died on 16 September 1845, at age 41.
Henry, now 16, returned with his mother and younger sister, Mary Jane, 4, to Nauvoo. An older sister, Maria, stayed behind to work for the Betts family.
Henry, weak himself from the summer sickness, returned to St. Louis for his sister. He earned his passage downriver and back by working on the riverboats. On the trip down he was an assistant fireman, carrying firewood and loading and unloading freight.
On the boat trip back to Nauvoo, Henry was third cook and “had the cabin dishes to wash, they being brought down to me by the cabin boys.” He liked the job because he could eat the leftover food, which was better than what he usually ate. Some plates of food came to him “untouched,” so instead of dumping the food overboard as ordered, he let other cabin boys eat it.
Henry, who was big for his age, joined the Nauvoo Legion. He “enrolled in a Captain Black’s company” when unfriendly neighbors began harassing the Mormons in and around Nauvoo. Officers gave this teenager “something of a gun,” and he “sometimes was scouting all night and took delight therein, even at times when the mob was expected every hour.”
Early in 1846, when Henry was 17, the Saints had to leave Nauvoo. For the wagon trek across Iowa, Jonathan C. Wright hired Henry to be a chore boy and drive an ox team. Henry liked this job, except for Brother Wright’s restriction that Henry walk his horses but never run or race them.
While Henry was camped with the Wrights at Council Bluffs, Iowa, a United States army recruiter arrived. “I had told my comrades that he would not get a man,” Henry said. But President Brigham Young called a meeting in a brush-covered bowery and asked that 500 men enlist in the Mormon Battalion for the Mexican War. Henry felt impressed to answer the call, so he joined the army. Mr. Wright, upset at losing his hired hand, “was wrathy and said that I could not go.” But Henry went. He was not yet 18, as required by the government, “but as I had nearly got my growth in height I passed without difficulty.”
The next summer, when he was 18, he left California, where the Mormon Battalion had completed its march, and entered the Great Salt Lake Valley just after the 1847 pioneers arrived. Wanting to rejoin his family, he returned east with Brigham Young’s company late that same year to the Winter Quarters area.
Henry and his family came west three years later, in 1850. He married and lived at Union Fort, Fillmore, and Fairview, Utah. During his adult years he was a farmer, teacher, and shoemaker.