Gospel Story Finder

Riding in a van following the trailer loaded with canoes, the girls of the Fargo North Dakota Stake, headed for a Summiteer adventure, were lost in lethargy, dozing a little. They had had an early morning getting everything packed for five days in the Boundary Waters area of northern Minnesota.
Suddenly Andrea bolted awake in her seat, yelling, “Hey, look! There’s a bear.”
Just then a black bear ambled casually across the road. Now everyone was awake. They watched the bear disappear into the woods, then looked at each other with a look that spoke eloquently. It was unspoken communication, but the message was clear. This really was going to be an adventure. Little did they realize then just how vivid the experience would be and how much this canoe trip would act as a symbol for the way they should live their lives.

It calls to mind an incident I read that tells of the naturalist, William Beebe, who made a visit to another naturalist whose name was Theodore Roosevelt. In describing the visit, William Beebe said that each evening, after a talk in Roosevelt’s home at Sagamore Hill, the two men would go out on the lawn and gaze up at the sky to see who could first detect that faint spot of light-mist beyond the lower left-hand corner of the Great Square of Pegasus. Then one or the other would recite: “That is the Spiral Galaxy of Andromeda. It is as large as our Milky Way. It is one of a hundred million galaxies. It is 750,000 light-years away. It consists of one hundred billion suns, each larger than our sun.” After an interval Beebe reported that Mr. Roosevelt would grin at him and say, “Now I think we are small enough. Let’s go to bed.”

Agnes wrote of one incident that took place shortly before they got to the Salt Lake Valley: “Just before we crossed the mountains, relief wagons reached us, and it certainly was a relief. The infirm and aged were allowed to ride, all able-bodied continuing to walk. When the wagons started out, a number of us children decided to see how long we could keep up with the wagons, in hopes of being asked to ride. At least that is what my great hope was. One by one they all fell out, until I was the last one remaining, so determined was I that I should get a ride.
“After what seemed the longest run I ever made before or since, the driver, who was William Henry ‘Heber’ Kimball, called to me, ‘Say, sissy, would you like a ride?’ I answered in my very best manner, ‘Yes sir.’ At this he reached over, taking my hand, clucking to his horses to make me run, with legs that seemed to me could run no farther. On we went, to what to me seemed miles. What went through my head at that time was that he was the meanest man that ever lived or that I had ever heard of, and other things that would not be a credit nor would it look well coming from one so young. Just at what seemed the breaking point, he stopped. Taking a blanket, he wrapped me up and lay me in the bottom of the wagon, warm and comfortable. Here I had time to change my mind, as I surely did, knowing full well by doing this he saved me from freezing when taken into the wagon.”

Young: As I grew up in the Church, people would always say, “Hey, Mike, are you going on a mission?” and I’d say yeah, just to avoid the conversation. But I never really decided I was going. I came to school here saying, well, maybe next summer I’ll think about it.
It was kind of a crazy thing. All of a sudden it started weighing on my mind. It’s almost like something else took control. By the end of October my papers were in, and I was in the MTC in December. No one pressured me. I just felt like it was something I had to do, so I did it.

The sun shone fiercely on a hot summer day in Salt Lake City, Utah. There was some problem underneath the street near the home of President George Albert Smith, and several workmen from the city had come to fix it.
The workmen were not very careful with their language. They were swearing and using terrible language as the sun beat down on their backs.
Very few people had air-conditioning in their homes in the late 1940s, so nearly everybody had their windows open, hoping to catch any breeze that might cool them. After a while, the neighbors could hardly stand to listen to the workers’ words any longer. One of them walked over to where the workmen were digging and asked them to be more considerate. He pointed out that the Church President, George Albert Smith, lived nearby—couldn’t they show some respect for him and keep quiet, please?
At that, the men let loose with a new string of bad words and spoke even more loudly than before.
Quietly President Smith scurried around in his kitchen and prepared some ice-cold lemonade. He placed some glasses and the full pitcher on a tray, carried it out to the workmen, and said, “My friends, you look so hot and tired. Why don’t you come and sit under my trees here and have a cool drink?”
Their anger gone, the men responded to the kindness with meekness and appreciation. After their pleasant little break, the men went back to their labor and finished their work carefully and quietly.
George Albert Smith believed in treating others with courtesy regardless of how they treated him. On that hot summer day in Salt Lake City he handled a difficult situation with kindness and great wisdom.

A young man once walked the foggy streets in London, England, carrying a brightly burning lamp. An old man approached him, saying, “I will pay you if you can guide me to my hotel.” The young man lifted his lamp and took the older man to the appointed location. When they arrived the young man received not one, but three payments, because two other men who were lost had also followed the light through the fog.
“The light that we shine will be seen by the people around us, often without our knowing it,” says Sister Julie Jacobs, relating one of her favorite stories from the Ster, the Church’s International Magazine in the Netherlands.
“I’ve become a happy member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints,” says Sister Jacobs, a wide grin spreading across her face. The 72-year-old resident of Rijswijk, Netherlands, has overcome adversity and served the Lord since her conversion twenty-four years ago.
Born in Semarang, Indonesia, in 1914, Julie was one of six children. Her father died when she was eight, and her Chinese mother, who had been disowned by her family for marrying a Dutchman, was unable to take care of her children. Julie lived with a foster family for several years until the family was reunited.
Julie finished school, earning a degree in education, and worked as a secretary until she met Rudolf Jacobs, whom she married in 1938. When World War II started, Rudolf, an experienced pilot, was called into action and soon became a Japanese prisoner of war.
Julie, pregnant with twins, was left to care for her infant son. As she struggled for the next three years to provide for her children, she sold knitting and other handiwork, trading everything she could to obtain food.
Rudolf returned from the prisoner-of-war camp very sick and underweight, and the family decided to move to the Netherlands, where better medical help was available. So in 1947 Julie left Indonesia, not realizing she would never return to the land of her birth.
Six years later, Rudolf Jacobs was killed in a plane crash and Julie was again left to provide for her family—four children ranging in age from five to fourteen. She went to work teaching typing and shorthand. In 1960 Julie suffered another blow when her oldest son was killed in a car accident.
Reeling under the loss—“It felt like part of my body had been torn away”—Julie experienced a crisis of faith.
“I couldn’t understand why I had to go through this,” she says. “I struggled every morning and evening to bend my knees in prayer, as I was used to doing, but I found I could not pray.”
Even though Julie had never attended a church, she had a strong belief in God that pulled her through. “After a while I heard a voice that seemed to repeat, ‘And still God is love.’”
She began to pray once more. “In thankfulness to my Father in Heaven, I searched for a church where I could serve him.” One rainy evening in 1962, two Latter-day Saint missionaries knocked on the Jacobs’s door.
Not long after, one of Julie’s sons was baptized, followed by her sister and mother. But Julie was not yet convinced. The evening before her daughter was to be baptized, a missionary challenged her to pray in an effort to gain a testimony of the gospel.
“I did not promise the missionary anything,” Julie remembers.
“And when I said my prayers that night I did not mention the Church. But in the middle of the night I woke up with an urgent need to ask Father in Heaven if this was indeed the true church where I could serve him.
“Never had I prayed so sincerely or for so long. And never had I felt God’s love and strength as I did on that night. When my prayer was over, I saw the sun shining through the curtains at my bedroom window. As I gazed outside in the early morning hour, I felt a happiness and peace I had not known since before my son’s death,” she recalls, her face reflecting the wonder of that morning a quarter of a century ago. She was baptized that very day, along with her daughter.
For the next twenty-one years, Sister Jacobs served in the Relief Society. For five years she was Relief Society president of The Hague Netherlands Stake. “It wasn’t always easy, but during those years I learned to kneel in prayer often to receive the help and inspiration I needed.”
Three times a year a special week in the London Temple is organized for the Dutch members. “We usually leave at night, driving for several hours,” Sister Jacobs explains. “Then we take the night boat to England, and drive for three hours. Each day we are there, we arrive at the temple before 6 A.M. and stay until 6 P.M. When I get back to Holland I am tired, but happy that I was able to work in the house of the Lord.”
“Life isn’t always easy,” Sister Jacobs admits. “But our final reward will be that God will lovingly take us in his arms when we leave this world. Thinking about that gives me the courage to accept the things that happen in my life.”

There are other stories. My wife happens to be related to the family of Jacob Hamblin, and those who have worked with me over the years know that I have a particular feeling for this man’s story. His name, I suppose, is known to most members of the Church, and he had a particular ability to express his feelings and the motivating power of faith that touched his life. I would like to rehearse just a little of what the gospel meant to him.

He said that he first heard of the gospel when he was living on the frontiers of Wisconsin. He heard through a friend or a neighbor that there were preachers in the area who were proclaiming that the gospel had been restored and that it was the privilege of every man to find out for himself through the Spirit if it was true. Jacob did not understand much about what that meant, but the feeling so fired his mind that he could hardly wait to hear this news that the gospel had been restored. He found the missionaries holding a meeting in a house. He had arrived after the meeting had begun, but as he listened to the message, he felt, “This is what I’ve been searching for, what I need more than anything in life. How can I know if it’s true?”

As if he had asked the question aloud, the elder stood up again and said, “If there’s anyone here who would like to know the truth of what we have just told you, we promise you that if you’ll be baptized by immersion and receive the laying on of hands for the gift of the Holy Ghost the Lord will reveal it to you.”

And Jacob said, “That’s good enough for me. I’ll do that, even though it costs the sacrifice of everything I have.”

He went home and told his wife. She said, “Oh, yes, that’s just what it will cost you. I won’t live with you any more if you join that church.”

His father and his brother said, “Jacob, what’s the matter with you? Don’t you know that those are the Mormons? It’s one thing to get religion, but why did you have to choose the worst one there is?”

But he still had that independence of spirit and, having made arrangements to be baptized, he proceeded to meet the elders. He later said that on his way to be baptized he began to reflect on what the sacrifice would mean, and it seemed to him almost too much to bear; he was soon on the point of turning back. (That is a good thing for missionaries to remember, that this wavering happens to most people as they are about to join the Church.) but, he said, as he was about to turn back, he felt the presence of someone near him. He realized that it was his dead grandfather, and he heard a voice say, “Go forward, my son. You cannot comprehend the joy that will come into your life as a consequence of what you are about to do today.” Thus fortified, he went forward and met the elders and was baptized into the Church.

As the elders confirmed him a member of the Church, one of them said, “The spirits in prison have greatly rejoiced over what you have done.” Jacob did not understand that, but he told them of his experience with his grandfather on the way. They then explained to him the great work of salvation for the dead, and suddenly he knew why he had joined the Church—not just to satisfy his own interest and curiosity, but to become an instrument in the hand of the Lord to bring the same joy and privilege and blessing to the lives of many other people.

He returned and told his family what he had done. Evidently they said worse things than they had said before, but now, he said, “I just laughed at them and I told my father, ‘Never mind; within two years I’ll baptize you in the Church, too.’”

Well, they all followed him, and they went through the turmoils and the trials of the days of Nauvoo. After the death of the Prophet and the exodus, they followed him across Iowa and across the plains. In the process his wife did leave him, and his mother died along the way. The rest of the family settled in Tooele, and then were called to go to what must have seemed the very end of the earth down in southern Utah, at that time a desolate desert inhabited by what Jacob thought were the most lowly people he had ever seen on the face of the earth. While they were living there, his father died in their little hut, and just before his death he called Jacob to him and said something like this: “Jacob, you know that you have been as a Joseph to your family. Like Joseph who was sold into Egypt, you have brought salvation to your family. Thanks for your persistence and faithfulness. Thanks, Jacob, for all these blessings.”

Does that sound a little strange to you? For what blessing could he possibly be thankful, down there in the desert dying under miserable circumstances? “Thanks for all these blessings, Jacob.” Well, he knew of what he talked. He thought of the gospel that had been restored, and he said, “There’s no use to pray for me that I stay here longer. I know the gospel. It’s time for me to go where I’ll be happier. Thanks for those great blessings.”

One Sunday morning, we were sitting on the veranda when my oldest daughter, who was three years old, asked me a question that caught me by surprise. She saw some of her friends going to church in their nice clothes. “How come we don’t go to church?” she asked. At that time we weren’t attending church because my wife and I belonged to different churches and neither wanted to join the other’s church.
My daughter’s question really made me think. I was troubled because before I was married, I always went to church. That night I was inspired to kneel and seek divine guidance. I recall even saying that I would offer my life to serve the Lord.
A few days later, two young men knocked at our door and introduced themselves as messengers of the Lord. When I saw their calling cards, I remembered some things I knew about the Church. When I was young, I used to read western novels that talked about Mormon pioneers and settlements. I had also read about some members of the Church in American magazines. When we started talking about the doctrines of the Church, I was surprised to find that I already believed most of its teachings. I had read the Bible and knew that God the Father, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Ghost were three separate beings, and I felt that there must be prophets and revelation.
The elders continued to teach me for several months, but somehow I could not gain a testimony of Joseph Smith and the Book of Mormon. I had read the passages in the Book of Mormon that the missionaries marked for me, but I had trouble accepting their challenge to read the whole book.
I enjoyed having them in our home, but I had the feeling that they were getting discouraged with me. One day when they challenged me to read and pray, I felt that it would be the last challenge. I didn’t want to lose their visits, so I decided to read. This time before starting, I prayed with a real desire to know if the book was true. A miracle happened: instead of getting bored as usual, I was so interested that I couldn’t stop reading.
That night, after reading many chapters, I knew that this was the word of God. With a strong testimony of the Book of Mormon, it was then very easy for me to accept Joseph Smith as a prophet. When the missionaries returned and asked me if I wanted to be baptized, I said yes. I was baptized in November 1964. I felt the Spirit of the Lord so strongly during my baptism that I really felt reborn. Besides the covenant of baptism, I made a private covenant that I would serve the Lord all my life.
I am very grateful to be a member of the Church. I hope that you children of the Church will learn through prayer and study that the gospel and the Book of Mormon are true. My wife and I have eight children whom we have raised in the gospel. I am grateful that my oldest daughter, when she was a small child, asked me that important question. Because of her, I began to seek the truth and to serve the Lord and others. You can help your parents and families remember the Lord, as my daughter helped me.

When I was in junior high, I was honored by the school administration when I was asked to become a member of the student hall patrol. On the days we were assigned to be on hall patrol, we were instructed to bring our lunch to school and eat it together. It was always a special treat, and there was always a lot of competition to see whose mother had prepared the most desirable lunch. Often we traded lunch items among ourselves.
One day when I was assigned to be on hall patrol, I forgot to tell Mother I needed a lunch until I was almost ready to leave for school. An expression of concern came over Mother’s face when I requested a lunch. She told me she had just used up her last loaf of bread for breakfast and would not be baking until that afternoon. All she had in the house to make a lunch was a large sweet roll left over from the previous night’s supper. Mother made delicious sweet rolls. She always arranged them in a pan so there was one large one across the top of the pan and then rows of smaller ones down the length of the pan. Only the large one remained. It was about the size of a loaf of bread in length but, of course, not in thickness. I was embarrassed to take just a sweet roll for lunch when I imagined what the other patrol members would have, but I decided it was better to go with the sweet roll than go without lunch.
When it came time to eat lunch, I went to a far-off corner so I wouldn’t be noticed. When the trading of lunches started, my friends wanted to know what I had. I explained what had happened that morning, and to my dismay, everyone wanted to see the sweet roll. But my friends surprised me—instead of making fun of me, they all wanted to have a piece of the sweet roll! It turned out to be my best lunch trading day of the entire year! The sweet roll I thought would be an embarrassment to me turned out to be the hit of our lunch hour.

Ward members made very effort to make Sage’s return from Galveston as smooth as possible. During a Sharing Time just before she returned, the Primary presidency held an activity to show the children that although people may be hurt or maimed, they are Heavenly Father’s children and need our help.
Nancy Eldridge, then Primary president, had a video tape made of Sage speaking to the children. On the tape Sage talked about her experience and hopes for the future. She closed by assuring her friends that she was still “the same old Sage.”
Nancy says that each of the children had to adjust to Sage in his or her own way. Her own son had a particularly difficult time. “He loved Sage, but he was afraid, and it bothered him. So he wrote her letters of love and friendship until he was able to work through his feelings.”

Some years ago, I went canoeing with a group of young women. The deep blue lakes surrounded by green, thickly forested hills and rocky cliffs were breathtakingly beautiful. The water sparkled on our paddles as we dipped them into the clear water, and the sun shone warmly while we moved smoothly across the lake.

However, clouds soon darkened the sky, and a stiff wind began to blow. To make any progress at all, we had to dig deeply into the water, paddling without pausing between strokes. After a few grueling hours of backbreaking work, we finally turned the corner on the large lake and discovered to our amazement and delight that the wind was blowing in the direction we wanted to go.

Quickly, we took advantage of this gift. We pulled out a small tarp and tied two of its corners to paddle handles and the other corners to my husband’s feet, which he stretched out over the gunwales of the canoe. The wind billowed the improvised sail, and we were off!

When the young women in the other canoes saw how we moved along the water with ease, they quickly improvised sails of their own. Our hearts were light with laughter and relief, grateful for the respite from the challenges of the day.

American servicemen, their families, and others living in the Philippines loved the Filipinos and in 1960 pleaded with Elder Gordon B. Hinckley, then an Assistant to the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles assigned to supervise the Church in Asia, to open the Philippines to missionary work.2
On his first visit to the Philippines in 1960, Elder Hinckley realized the potential the Philippines offered as a mission field. Legal challenges slowed official recognition for the Church, but Elder Hinckley and Robert S. Taylor, president of the Southern Far East Mission, believed permission for missionary visas would soon be granted. With authorization from the First Presidency and the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, they scheduled a meeting at the American War Memorial Cemetery on 28 April 1961 to initiate missionary work.
At 6:30 on a quiet, peaceful morning, around 100 members of the Church—mostly servicemen and their families, but including David Lagman, a Filipino member—met near the small memorial chapel. At the conclusion of a brief meeting, Elder Hinckley offered a prayer in which he invoked blessings “upon the people of this land, that they shall be friendly and hospitable, and kind and gracious to those who shall come here, and that many, yea Lord, we pray that there shall be many thousands who shall receive this message and be blessed thereby. … We pray that there shall be many men, faithful, good, virtuous, true men who shall join the Church.”3
Since that time, his prayer has been answered many fold. Visas for full-time missionaries were soon approved, and on 5 June 1961 the first four missionaries were transferred from Hong Kong to Manila. Probably because the people were curious about them, the elders were invited into every home they visited that day.

When Kate Hansen was 10 her father drove her to Slider Search, a local clinic being held for kids to try out for luge. “I tell people that luge is like bobsledding,” says Kate. “At the clinic, they set up hay bales and cones on the street and then let the kids ride a trainer sled with wheels down the course. I went through the cones without crashing. I remember it being really fun. Plus they wanted to see how well I took direction.”
As a result of the clinic, both Kate and her cousin were invited to come to Lake Placid, New York, where the national luge training facility is located. The first time Kate tried out a real sled on an ice course, she loved it. It was fast and fun. “It’s like a roller coaster but pretty relaxing. It’s very flowing.”
The whole idea that riding something going so fast, just inches from crashing into walls of ice, would hardly seem relaxing to most people. But this ability to relax while moving has been the secret to Kate’s success.
Her mother, Kathie, remembers seeing her go down a run for the first time. She says, “It’s nerve-racking when you watch your daughter go by, and she’s going so fast. I wondered, ‘What have we gotten into?’ The coaches don’t know how she does it. She can have a bad start, but as soon as she is through the first curve, she’s leading everyone because she’s settling in and relaxing and just feeling the curves.”
Her mother thinks the ability to relax might come from Kate’s skateboarding and surfing, two popular activities in La Cañada, California, where the Hansen family lives. “Kate used to lay down on her skateboard, going down the driveway with her ponytail dragging.”
While learning this new sport, Kate says, “I was just the girl from California who had her ukulele. Before races some people warm up by sitting in the corner, staying really focused. Others zone everyone out. Then there are those who listen to music and dance. I was one who danced and sang, trying to keep my mind off of what I was doing. That’s when I did well. I was just there for fun.”
Each year at the USA training facility, Kate is given a sled for the season. Last year she named her sled Ricardo—Ricky for short. “It’s your baby,” says Kate. “You take care of it.”
The sled is built to her size and can be adjusted slightly. “My sled is a lot different. I like it loose because it’s easier to steer. I did really well on it.” Kate does everything for her sled. She sands the steel runners. After races she puts oil on the steels so they won’t rust. She packs it carefully when traveling. “If you drop Ricky, you have to apologize,” she jokes.
Kate Hansen and her family haven’t had a real plan for her participation in luge. They seem to take and evaluate opportunities as they come. Heidi, Kate’s older sister, explains, “My brothers and I thought it was funny because she was luging, and no one really knows what that is. We thought she would only do it for a while, but then she would do well and get invited to train or to be on teams, so our family would say, ‘I guess she’ll move up.’”
Eventually Kate started to get noticed. In her first junior international competition at the junior level, she came in third, shocking everyone because she was so young and inexperienced. A few months later, at 15, she came in first at the Junior World Championship. She was only the third American to ever win. She now spends most of the winter months living with the team in Europe and competing on the Junior World Cup Tour. Her name has started rising to the top.
With the upcoming 2010 Winter Olympics, Kate will be invited to participate in the Olympic trials. There are only three slots on the team, and most of the competitors are much older. Kate finished sixth overall at the end of last season and looks forward to competing for a spot on the team. Whether she makes it or not, Kate has had fun participating and succeeding in luge, but it will not become the only focus in her life.
Kate’s mom and dad worry about their daughter’s keeping the right balance. “Mom didn’t want me to miss out on high school,” says Kate.
Kate is involved in school activities when she is home and maintains excellent grades. “Our goal is that she is going to college,” says her mother. “And her seminary teacher, Sister Frandsen, is kind enough to digitally record seminary every morning. We then e-mail the seminary recordings to Kate each week so she can listen to the classes. It is one of her spiritual foundations and a link to home when she is on the road.”
To help focus her goals, Kate has received her patriarchal blessing. In her blessing she was told that she would be watched by many people and would have missionary opportunities come to her.
Even so, Kate faces some hard situations when it comes to the party atmosphere that accompanies sports. It seems that drinking can become a stumbling point, especially when the team goes to Europe to compete. “After races, it’s party time. Everyone I met would drink. At first, I felt like the loner in the hotel. But I got over that feeling. My teammates knew better than to ask me to drink with them. After I won the worlds, my competitors would say, ‘Kate, you have to drink tonight.’ But I’d say no. My teammates would say, ‘No, she doesn’t drink. Don’t even ask.’”
Having a strong testimony is the bottom line for Kate. She is always excited to go to young women camp and youth conference with her stake. When asked about her favorite scripture, Kate mentions an experience she had while attending Especially for Youth. She hadn’t planned to bear her testimony, but then she had a feeling that someone there needed to hear what she had to say. She had been reading in her scriptures and had come upon Mosiah 8:18: “Thus God has provided a means that man, through faith, might work mighty miracles; therefore he becometh a great benefit to his fellow beings.”
Kate says, “I stood up and talked about my patriarchal blessing where it says I would be an example to others and people would be watching me. Now it’s my favorite scripture because it came as an answer to me.”
It seems that people are indeed watching Kate and what she chooses to do. At the end of the season, two of her teammates said they had stopped drinking because of her. “It was the biggest reward I have ever received,” says Kate.

Because sacred music opens our hearts to the influence of the Holy Ghost, it is one of the means by which our Father in Heaven can bless and strengthen us. A sister who had struggled with serious health problems for many years was in constant pain. A few years ago, she underwent some prolonged and painful medical tests. Afterward, she was asked how she was able to withstand the tests. “I sang in my head every Primary song I could remember,” she replied. “The pain did not go away, but I was given strength to endure.”

Let me conclude with this personal story to illustrate this final point.
I have a four-year-old granddaughter whose favorite activity is riding her bike, which still has her training wheels on it. Sometimes after work and on weekends, she and I will ride our bike throughout the community. We have traveled on our bikes to the shopping center, to the beach and throughout the streets of our community. Often we would spend hours on the bike and would return home when we were either hungry or it became dark. One day on our bike ride, I decided to bring her to this campus. This was her first trip on her bike to this campus. While riding, we stopped in the Little Circle and she turned to me and asked, “Tutuman whose school is this?” I was surprised that someone so young and who is only in pre-school would recognize that this represented an institution of learning. I replied with a simple answer that this was a school for big people to which she responded again with a child like curiosity, “so who goes to this school?” I thought for a moment then replied, “Well, your Tutuman and your Tutulady had gone here. And then I quickly remembered that there were others in our family as well. So I continued with great pride and gratitude, “Your mom came to this school, and all of your aunties. Your great grandparents also attended this school (that was when it was known as Church College of Hawaii). I then said to her, “Perhaps someday you and your sisters will come to this school.” Feeling satisfied with my answer and having no further questions, we hopped on our bikes and continued our ride.
I have often reflected on that day in the little circle with my granddaughter and our conversation. I was overcome with an overwhelming sense of gratitude and appreciation for the Lord’s direction in my life and for his influence upon my family and our special relationship to this University. I was a beneficiary of the passage, “behold, all things have been done in wisdom of him who knoweth all things” (2 Nephi 2:24).
The Lord knew what was best for my family and me. He had an eternal perspective, I had a limited view. I thought I was getting a college degree, which I did; but in addition to that he gave me a valuable treasure trove of life lessons learned that have helped me become whom I am today. From his eternal perspective, he always knows what is best. Of these things I know and testify in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

I’d like to share with you a story about an experience I had with integrating prayer into my work life.

As President [Kauwe] mentioned, I’ve been blessed to work at BYU–Hawaii for over ten years, most of which I spent in the bookstore. When I first started at the bookstore, there was only one other employee there, and she was preparing to retire in just a few months. That meant I needed to hire someone quickly to fill a critical role.

I knew exactly who I wanted to hire. She lived here in Laie, I had known her my entire life, and I trusted her. At the time, she was working in the retail industry, and although the position at BYU–Hawaii would mean a pay cut, I shared with her the many blessings of working here. I brought up how her commute would be shorter and shared the educational benefits, among others. The job was to take care of buying all of the textbooks for campus, to which she wasn’t at all interested, but I told her that she could do both the textbooks and help me with the retail side. Eventually, I convinced her that this job was a good idea.

Even though I already knew who I wanted to hire, HR required me to interview at least two candidates. I decided to interview her and a student who had been working in the bookstore who was about to graduate. On paper, she was the clear choice. She had over a decade of retail experience, and even though this position was over the textbooks, her retail experience would be helpful to have in the office.

I went ahead and went through the motions of doing the interviews. As soon as we were done, I sat down at my desk, and I was logging in to submit my decision of who I wanted to hire. I had my mouse on the “Submit” button but right before I clicked, I paused and thought, “I work at BYU–Hawaii. If there’s ever a place to seek spiritual confirmation, this is it.” So, I said a prayer. I did not expect a dramatic answer; I just wanted to do what seemed like the right thing to do.

But to my surprise, in the middle of the prayer, I received a clear and strong impression. But the impression wasn’t to hire who I expected, the impression was that I needed to hire the student.

I was stunned. I had already made up my mind. I had spent time convincing my friend that this job was perfect for her, but I was being prompted to go in a completely different direction. I even extended the prayer a few extra minutes, hoping the impression would fade. But it didn’t.

So, after sitting at my desk for an hour trying to figure out how this would work out, I just decided to follow the prompting, and I hired the student. My friend was fine with the decision, and she continued working at her job in town.

A couple of months later, I realized that the bookstore had an open part-time position that I had not been aware of. I ended up hiring her for that part-time position.

Looking back, I can see how the Lord’s hand was in every detail. The student excelled in the textbook role and made lasting improvements. My friend thrived on the retail side, where her talents were best used. She later told me that after seeing what the textbook position entailed, she would have hated it, and she would have quit anyway. Also, one of the biggest incentives for her was being able to finish her degree. Full-time employees are limited to taking six credits a semester, but as a part-time employee, she was able to take more credits and complete her degree much faster than if she had been working full-time. As soon as she graduated, she found a great job at the Polynesian Cultural Center, where she continues to work today.

This experience reminded me that the Spirit knows more than we do about people, timing, and outcomes. It reminded me that the spiritual aspect of our lives shouldn’t be partitioned into just Sundays or just when we pray before a meal, but that we should fully integrate the Spirit into our lives, including our professional decisions.

Recently a young ex-convict joined the Church after years of trouble and searching. His story is best told in his own words. Only the names have been changed. The following is taken from an address he taped while in prison. We publish it with his permission.
Brothers and sisters: I’m honored on this occasion to be able to speak to you about my life and to give some suggestions in regard to the gospel of Jesus Christ. The gospel has truly been restored in our time through Joseph Smith and all the other great souls who have been instruments in the hands of God and his Only Begotten Son, our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
For those of you who don’t know who I am, it might be best for me to start by telling you a little bit about myself. My name is Bill, and I am twenty-one years old. Up until a few years ago, I was very unfortunate spiritually. Indeed, my present situation somewhat reflects this fact. I guess by now you know that I am housed in the prison system of this state.
I was born in a Baltimore suburb to a fine family consisting of my mother, father, two brothers, and two sisters. I was raised in the Roman Catholic Church and even attended a parochial grade school. I started out as a relatively good child and continued so up until around the fourth grade. Yes, as early as the fourth grade I was on my way to a long road of filth of every kind. I started by getting involved with others who had the habit of stealing anything and everything. By age eleven I found it quite amusing to obtain entry into private premises in order to steal and vandalize. Of course, eventually I was caught and brought before a judge. I was fortunate this time not to receive any punishment for my crimes.
Time passed, and soon I was involved in every kind of unlawful act a person my age could get into. Time and time again I was caught and punished accordingly.
Of course, this kind of behavior caused my parents and loved ones much sorrow. Even with all their efforts to help me, I just seemed to get worse. As time passed, I was introduced to many of the radical, subversive factions of our society and the things that went along with them. It seems I went from one extreme to another trying to find a purpose in life. I was, of course, eventually introduced to one of the strongest underminers of all that is good—drugs. I experimented and tried to find myself using all the inventions of man. However, as time passed, I sensed my degenerated position. I soon realized I must pull myself from this hell on earth; so with all the courage I could muster, I managed to get accepted in the United States Army.
Once in the army and away from my old surroundings, I was able to muster some faith in God, of which I always had a little portion. I remember reading in the Bible and pondering the true meaning of the many prophecies. I even tried to get reactivated in the Roman Catholic Church. That, however, soon subsided, and I was on my way seeking and looking. I remember pouring out my soul in prayer much more frequently during this period, but I would always manage to find myself reunited with one of my various vices. Eventually I was transferred to another area. There I found a small group of seekers after the truth who interpreted God in their own way. I remember it was there that I thanked God for my restoration of faith, but I still was not satisfied.
Finally I became discontented and discouraged with the army. I was due to be transferred to Vietnam, so I decided to go absent without leave. Leaving the army behind, I traveled from the west coast to the east. Eventually I ended up back at my home. My parents were disappointed in me, of course, but they sympathized with me and consented to let me stay at home.
Well, before too long I was back in trouble, and I was getting worse. One night I happened to come across a gun. This led to other things, and I soon talked myself into using it for gaining money. Leaving details aside, I did use it and was caught. I was detained in the county jail to await trial. While awaiting my trial, I had occasion to visit a library they had there. There were a number of books dealing with religion that I asked to see. One of these was entitled Religious Truths Defined, by Joseph Fielding Smith, Jr. To this day I don’t know how that book got there. But praise be to God for allowing a sinner like me to even read it.
I commenced reading the book, which compares the doctrine of many contemporary religious establishments to those of the church called The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. To me it seemed that even a blind person could see the obvious truths the book professed. After all this I had found the true church. That night I prayed to God, and I told him I believed. I didn’t ask if it were true; I told him I knew it was true.
Brothers and sisters, there are no words I know that can describe the tremendous joy and will to do good continuously that I received from an enormously gigantic outpouring of the Holy Ghost the next morning. I was dazed. I couldn’t believe what was happening. Why God led me to that book and what he has planned for me, I don’t know. But I do know that I have found the true church and the true God. I know that God is real, that Jesus Christ is his Only Begotten. I know the Holy Ghost does exist and that he works on the hearts of men.
Well, I was eventually punished for my wrongs and crimes. I thought that God had let me down at first. However, I stayed in contact with his church continuously and was strengthened more and more. Eventually I quit smoking and drinking, and all my vices and bad habits have almost completely vanished. I have managed to get my high school equivalent and now I’m close to graduation from junior college with a degree in business administration. I have almost two years in seminary work completed and have managed to read the standard works a number of times. I have read many of the other books related to the Church and have followed the Church as closely as possible. To my regret, however, I did receive an undesirable discharge from the army, for which I am really sorry. I surely will try to make it up.
I recently started receiving the missionary discussions and anxiously await the opportunity to be baptized, to receive the gift of the Holy Ghost, and to get my patriarchal blessing. I believe in everything the Church says and does and can’t wait to be active in God’s work.
That is an extra-short version of my life’s story. Indeed, I could probably fill a couple of volumes with the complete version. But all in all, I have no doubts whatsoever concerning God’s church and work. How I look forward to the day I can be in it.
As for advice and suggestions, brothers and sisters, what can I tell you that hasn’t been told you by the prophets and authorities? I will say, Beware of the ways of the world. Be not concerned with societal standards or resulting sub-societies. “Fear God and keep his commandments, for that is the whole duty of man,” the Psalmist said. Please, trust God. Be pure. Don’t go through what I did, or even a minute portion of what I did. There’s no pleasure in it, only grief. So with that I will end my speaking. I give thanks to God above for bringing me this far, and for the change in my heart and the chance to tell someone my story so that maybe they can avoid what I went through. I also give thanks for all the great people I’ve met since my affiliation, for truly you are saints. May the Lord God of Israel be with you always and forever. Amen.

When I was a little girl I assumed that when I grew up I would become a mother. Shortly before Chad and I were married he bought a used Volvo station wagon, buying it not only because its price fit our very limited budget but also because we anticipated filling it with a baby and baby paraphernalia. However, that used car died a miserable death years before we ever had a baby. For thirteen years we could not get pregnant. Chad and I decided early on that we weren't going to let that get in the way of our happiness, and it didn't.

However, it did change things. For example, I found myself struggling with who I was. If I wasn't a mother, what did it mean to be a woman? One day when I felt particularly identity-challenged, Chad suggested that I go back to school and study the history of women. I loved that idea, and so embarked on three years of studying the lives of women from the past. While I focused on women in American history, my studies gave me an increased appreciation for women in the ancient scriptures.

One of the women that I most connect to in this ancient record of wrestling with weaknesses is Sarah. Like many of the women in ancient scriptures, her life is recorded primarily in relationship to her husband Abraham. In particular, I can relate to her laughter after years of waiting when she found out she was pregnant in her old age. Like Sarah, we prayed for many years to have children sent to our home. Still, Chad was incredulous when I told him I thought was pregnant. After I "passed" the store-bought pregnancy test, Chad insisted that I look on the package to find its reliability. When I couldn't find it, we rushed over to Safeway to buy a new test to confirm what the first test had hinted at.

In my own case, at the very time I found I was pregnant I had recently graduated with my Masters Degree and was planning on embarking on a Ph.D. I found myself wanting both an education and motherhood but I wasn't sure I could do both without hurting the child I was expecting. My feelings were not monolithic but full of layers and complexity.

One day, just after it had rained in beautiful Nauvoo, Margarette McIntire and her older brother Wallace were walking to school.
Hurry up, Wallace, or we’ll be late.
I’m coming.
My boots are stuck, Margarette!
Mine are too. There’s too much mud.
The children found they couldn’t get out, so they started to cry, thinking they would have to stay there.
What’s this?
Brother Joseph!
We’re stuck.
Joseph pulled the two children out of the mud.
He cleaned the mud off their boots.
You look very pretty today, Margarette. Don’t worry about the mud—it will come off.
He dried their tears.
Cheer up, young man. You’re a very good older brother. Keep taking good care of your sister.
Margarette later recalled the experience: “Was it any wonder that I loved that great, good, and noble man of God?”
Off to school, now.
Thank you, Brother Joseph.
Good-bye!

My family was driving down a residential road in France when my father thought he smelled something burning. We pulled over to the side of the road and inspected the car. We couldn’t find anything wrong with the car, but we did find something else: a wallet on the side of the road with money in it!
My initial reaction was that I would be able to buy lots of neat things. I knew, however, that we should be honest. My father drove to the police station, and we turned the wallet over to the police. I felt happy, and I know that honesty is worth any cost.