Gospel Story Finder

I now would like to share another experience. In January of 2019, my wife, Debbie, and I were invited into the office of President Nelson. He had positioned a chair close to us, and we sat almost knee to knee. After extending to us our current calling, President Nelson turned to Debbie and focused on her. He was kind, loving, gentle, and full of joy, like the perfect father or grandfather. He held Debbie’s hand and patted it, reassuring her that it would be OK and that our family would be blessed. It seemed to us at that moment that we were the most important people to him and that he had all the time in the world for us. We left his office that Friday afternoon feeling reassured, loved, and joyful.
On Monday we saw the news. During that same day that President Nelson had spent with us, one of his daughters had passed away from cancer. We were stunned. Our hearts were full as we mourned for him and his family. Our hearts were also full of gratitude for his Christlike attention to us while mourning for his daughter who was suffering.
As we pondered this experience, we asked ourselves, “How could he be so kind, loving, and even joyful at such a difficult time?” The answer is because he knows. He knows that Christ has been victorious. He knows he will be with his daughter again and will spend an eternity with her. Joy and eternal perspective come through being bound to the Savior by making and keeping covenants and through Christlike discipleship.

I have been a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints my whole life. My parents are strong examples of faith in my life. I never felt the need to do anything more to strengthen and nourish that foundation. I rode on the coattails of their testimonies until I graduated from BYU–Hawaii in 2002.

Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf said, “Faith is strong when it has deep roots in personal experience [and] personal commitment to Jesus Christ... Our testimony will be tested and tried. Faith is not faith if never tested. Faith is not strong if never opposed.” [4] I did not know it then, but I was about to have some personal experiences that would test that foundation of faith and start my journey of personal recommitment to Jesus Christ.

My first job out of college was working at a hotel in Waikiki. I was paid $10 an hour with a college degree, which was barely enough to cover the cost for gas, to drive from Laie to Waikiki, five days a week. My husband and I got married later that same year. I quickly learned that, in hotels, there are many opportunities for movement and growth if I was willing to put in the time and effort. My focus shifted and I became more career driven. Hotels are open 24 hours a day, seven days a week. As my career in the hotel progressed, my schedule required me to work on Sundays. By that time, both of my sons had been born, so I justified it at first thinking, I am doing this for my family. As I reflect on this time, I can see that I chose to make the Lord less of a priority in my life. My priority was to move ahead in my career to provide for my family. I worked in hotels for 18 years. I left home before my kids woke up and returned home just in time to say goodnight. Don’t get me wrong. I really enjoyed my work and loved the people I worked with. I met some amazing people and built lasting friendships. I worked in Human Resources, Property Rehab or Special Projects, and various leadership roles in Housekeeping. I learned about union contracts, code of conduct, benefits, project management, standards, policies, procedures, and managing teams ranging from 20 to 800 people. While it was great that my career was advancing, I also felt like a horrible mom. I missed out on so many things: sporting events, birthdays, holidays, and just being around when my kids needed me. I am forever grateful to my husband, my best friend, for taking everything on and being there for our kids. My father-in-law and mother-in-law played an integral role in supporting our family. Our kids also have five amazing aunties, or as my sister says, “mom-ties”. These wonderful people stepped up to fill in for me when I could not be there.

During COVID, I was temporarily laid off because the hotel had to close. This was another challenging time for our family. My husband started working a few months before I was laid off. He was able to work through COVID to provide for our family. I was home for nine months and had to navigate where I fit in my family’s schedule and routine. By then our sons were 14 and 16 years old. Having mommy home was great, but it was different from what they had been accustomed to. This also gave me time to re-evaluate my priorities. I decided to go back to my roots and focus on my foundation of faith and learning to strengthen me and my family. I enrolled in an online MBA program to start working on my master’s degree. I also focused on strengthening my relationship with my sons. Those nine months ended up being the recharge and realignment I needed. Eventually, the hotel reopened, and I was called to return to work. When I returned, I struggled feeling like I could not continue doing this because I needed to prioritize my family. My husband agreed, so I left the hotel. Even though I knew it was the right thing to do for my family, it was still difficult because I built so many great relationships over the years.

A year ago this summer, our youngest son, who was at the University of Michigan getting an MBA, spent the summer as an intern with a nationally known company. On the first day of his internship, the company leaders spoke to the interns and indicated to them that the company sought to have the highest standards of honesty and incorruptibility .

During the summer, our son was on an assignment in the city where he was living, and where he therefore did not have his lunch expenses paid by the company. His co-worker had been assigned there from another city, and was therefore there on expense account. When they went to lunch she suggested that she pick up his lunch tab, because her expenses were paid. He said: "Well, that wouldn't be right, because I am not entitled to an expense account lunch while here."

It was a small thing perhaps, but meaningful. When he had his exit interview at the end of the summer with the executive in charge, the man said to him:

"I understand that you took to heart our talk about honesty and high standards." My son said: "Yes, but I am not sure to what you refer." The executive said: "Well, it has to do with whether or not you are entitled to have your lunch put on someone else's expense account." He graduated with an MBA last spring, and given the standards that that company strives to have, it is not surprising that he was offered a job, and he is now working for them full time.

The music we listen to can also have an effect on our lives. Listening to uplifting music will help us keep our thoughts and actions clean.
Tania Finn from Pocatello, Idaho, wrote about her experience of changing the kind of music she listens to.
“While on my drive to school every day, I played some instrumental music that allowed me to clear my thoughts and receive revelation for my life from my Father in Heaven. It was a testimony builder for me because I knew I was starting off every day feeling the Spirit.
“As I look back on the month of December (2000), I can see the Lord’s hand guiding me through my life. I know that it was because my spirit was prepared to listen to the Holy Ghost. I know what an important part the Holy Ghost plays in our lives, and I was glad to know that I was able to have the influence of the Holy Ghost in my life by choosing good music.”

Early in our married life when Sister Nelson and I lived in Minneapolis, we decided to enjoy a free afternoon with our two-year-old daughter. We went to one of Minnesota’s many beautiful lakes and rented a small boat. After rowing far from shore, we stopped to relax and enjoy the tranquil scene. Suddenly, our little toddler lifted one leg out of the boat and started to go overboard, exclaiming, “Time to get out, Daddy!”
Quickly we caught her and explained: “No, dear, it’s not time to get out; we must stay in the boat until it brings us safely back to land.” Only with considerable persuasion did we succeed in convincing her that leaving the boat early would have led to disaster.

Natalie liked to watch her mom put on makeup. “Can I wear lipstick, too?” she asked one morning.
Mom smiled. “Not yet. Makeup isn’t for children.”
Natalie tried not to frown, but Mom looked so pretty. Natalie wanted to see how she would look wearing lipstick, too. “I won’t make a mess,” she promised. “I won’t even touch it! You can put it on for me.” She puckered her lips and stared at her mother’s reflection in the mirror. “Please?”
“No, Natalie. You’re too young.”
Natalie stormed out of the bathroom and flopped onto her bed. She had been old enough to make a very important decision last month—the decision to be baptized. If she was old enough to do something that important, why was she still too young to do so many other things? She sighed. It didn’t seem fair.
On Sunday, Grandma and Grandpa came over for dinner. After the meal, while the family sat around the table talking, Natalie excused herself to go to the bathroom. Something on the bathroom counter caught her eye: Mom’s makeup bag.
“Mom won’t know if I try on her lipstick,” Natalie thought, “as long as I wipe it off afterward.” She peered down the hall and saw the adults still talking and laughing. Now was her chance! She closed the door and poked through the bag until she found Mom’s red lipstick. Smearing it on her lips, she gave the mirror a glamorous smile. “See, I do look pretty with it on,” she thought.
When the doorknob rattled, she realized she hadn’t locked the door. It opened a crack. Quickly, she slammed it shut again.
“Hey,” Dad called. “What’s going on in there?”
“Nothing,” Natalie called back. “I need to use the bathroom, but I forgot to lock the door.”
“Sorry,” Dad said. She heard his footsteps disappear back down the hall. Breathing a sigh of relief, she wiped the lipstick off.
At first Natalie didn’t think much about the incident. She had tried on Mom’s makeup. It was only for a few seconds. She hadn’t made a mess or ruined anything. No one had seen her.
But a few weeks later, during the sacrament, Natalie remembered slamming the door on Dad. “What’s going on in there?” he had called. “Nothing,” she had said. Not only had she disobeyed her mom, she had lied to her dad, too.
“Why am I thinking about this?” she asked herself crossly, trying to shrug away the uncomfortable feeling. “It’s no big deal.” As the sacrament tray came down her row, she silently said a quick prayer asking for forgiveness and tried to think about something else.
All week, she couldn’t shake the bad feeling. It only got worse. Every time she forgot about her little white lie, something reminded her again. When her third-grade teacher smiled, Natalie noticed her shiny red lipstick. When a classmate came in late, slamming the door behind him, Natalie remembered slamming the door on Dad. “This is silly,” she chided herself. “Forget about it!” But she couldn’t.
By the end of the week, Natalie was so worried she felt almost sick. “All this guilt over lipstick?” she thought. Why was her conscience hounding her over something so small?
“Heavenly Father,” she prayed that night, “please help me to feel better without having to tell Mom what I did. It’s not that important, and I don’t want her to know. But I’m really, really sorry. Please forgive me. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”
She sat at her bedside waiting for the Holy Ghost to tell her that everything was OK, but she felt only sadness.
The next morning, Natalie knew she had to confess. She sat on the edge of her bed and took a deep breath. Even though she was determined, she was also scared. Slowly, she stood and padded barefoot down the hall to the bathroom, where her mom was getting ready for the day.
“Mom, your lipstick is pretty,” she murmured.
Mom smiled. “Thank you, sweetie.”
Natalie gulped. “I tried it on a few weeks ago.”
Mom raised her eyebrows. “After I told you not to?”
“When Grandma and Grandpa came for dinner, I came in here and tried it on. Dad almost caught me, but I told him I was using the bathroom. I’m sorry.”
Mom didn’t say anything.
“Are you mad?” Natalie whimpered.
Mom squeezed Natalie’s shoulder. “I’m disappointed because you know better. But I’m happy that you told me the truth.”
At once, Natalie’s prayer to feel OK again was answered. The worried feeling went away. The knot in her stomach relaxed. Even though Mom was sure to punish her, Natalie felt like smiling. Nothing could be worse than the guilt she had carried. She never wanted to feel like that again.
Even though she wasn’t old enough to wear makeup, she was old enough for more important things—like honoring the gift of the Holy Ghost and following its promptings.

Their deep desire to be of service and to demonstrate their love can even benefit the bishop. In Sacramento, California, while the bishop was away on vacation with his family, the youth committee determined to paint his house. These young people had the time of their lives working together and anticipating the pleasant surprise of the bishop when he returned. A real bond of love was established between the youth and their bishop with such meaningful service.

It was unlike any other commencement or baccalaureate exercise I had ever attended or participated in myself. It was held one week ago, last Thursday, on the twenty-third of May. There were forty-four graduates, all male. They did not have traditional academic robes or caps or gowns. Their attire, to a man, was light blue denim shirts and dark blue denim trousers. The ceremony was not held in a fieldhouse or a stadium or even a lovely auditorium. The exercise was held in a modest interdenominational chapel at the Utah state prison. The graduating class consisted of forty-four men who had successfully completed a year’s course of Bible study sponsored by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints but open to all who cared to come and participate. These forty-four represented more than a dozen different religions, and, of course, many of them had no formal religious affiliation at all. At this very moment a lot of images and impressions are coming back to my mind, and I hope I can catch them long enough to share some of them with you.

One is of the delightful, tall, cordial, and warm inmate who conducted the exercises. He immediately warmed the group to the evening. About half were pleasantly and appropriately called “outsiders.” He said he wanted the outsiders particularly to appreciate that he was in prison even though he had hired one of the biggest criminal lawyers in America: “It’s only after I was through with the trial that I fully understood that designation. What it means to be a criminal lawyer is that he thought he was a lawyer and I think he’s a criminal.”

I remember the prayers. The opening prayer was given by a young man, but he seemed like a boy and looked like a boy and I think had not yet begun to shave. He gave there the first verbal and public prayer, according to the chaplain, that he’d ever given in his life. He was frightened to death, but it was a prayer of the heart, and you would need to have been there and to have heard it to appreciate fully what that might have meant. He was in the prison for ten years to life on an armed robbery charge. The closing prayer was given by a man who was, I suppose, forty-five or fifty years old—just a pleasant, warm, slightly chubby man who looked as if he should have been somebody’s uncle and undoubtedly was. He was in for a life term on second-degree murder.

The choir sang, among other numbers, the Hammerstein-Romberg song “Stouthearted Men.” If you could have seen the looks on their faces and felt the feeling in their voices, you would have known something about stouthearted men that you’d never understood before. I don’t think any two of them crossed paths on the same note at any given moment during the rendition. But it was a choir of angels. It really was. When they sang, “Give me some men who are stouthearted men, who will fight for the rights they adore. Give me ten men who are stouthearted men, and I’ll soon give you ten thousand more,” they knew something about rights that had been adored and lost, that were adored all the more because they had been lost, and that perhaps were desired more greatly because someday they might return.

I remember just a couple of other impressions. A young man who was now on the outside had come back to get his certificate and to encourage his colleagues. He said something that I wrote down. I’ll call him Howard, though that isn’t really his name. He looked out to his colleagues and said, “Guys, the perspective in prison is really bad. It really looks better on the outside. Try to remember that.” Then he turned to the outsiders, to the friends and families who had come in, and said, “You people are a light in a dark place. If it were not for love like yours, we would not be able to get from where we are to where we need to be.”

He was followed extemporaneously by another delightful young man who couldn’t have been more than twenty years of age. He had been in and out very quickly—I think for less than eight months on good behavior—and talked about what it was like to be back out, to be keeping a job, dating girls, going to church, and trying to live a moral and law-abiding life. He turned to friend and stranger alike and said, “Please understand that those of us at the halfway house need faith and prayers, too. We have reentered a world of temptation.”

I would also like to mention the concluding comment of the inmate who conducted the service. He said, when it was all over, with some emotion in his voice and a little mist in his eyes, “This is the most auspicious occasion of our year. It is better than Christmas. It’s better than Thanksgiving. It’s even better than Mother’s Day. It’s better because we’re enlightened, and that’s as close as we come to being free.”

Then the gates clanged behind my wife and me. That night we went home, and I confess I couldn’t sleep. Pat fell asleep, it was late, and our children were already asleep, but I couldn’t sleep. That experience haunted me and does yet at this pulpit. That’s why I choose to speak to you tonight as I do. I had in the early hours of that morning, and have had somewhat since, feelings and thoughts and a response to bondage and freedom and their relationship to enlightenment and love in a way that I confess I have never had before—even though I’ve studied those principles and read the doctrines and thought I had a pretty good understanding of what all of them might mean.

When I went outside that Saturday morning, I didn’t say to myself, “I hope a bug flies into my mouth today.” But as I was jogging, it happened. A bug flew right into my mouth! It wasn’t my fault. I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I didn’t even see it coming.
What do you think I did when that insect zipped between my teeth? Well, I didn’t swish it around and savor it. I didn’t leave it there just to see what would happen. I didn’t swallow it. I didn’t even take time to think about it. I just spit it out and kept running, sputtering along the way.
Have you ever had a “bug” fly into your mouth? Have you ever innocently come across an inappropriate picture or song or word or idea? You probably have. Evil influences are all around us, and while we can do much to avoid them, we will probably be exposed to them through no fault of our own. These spiritual bugs are deadly—much more harmful to our spirits than that little insect was to my body.
What should you do if a spiritual bug flies into your mouth? You should give it the same treatment I gave the bug that flew into mine: Spit it out! Don’t hesitate. Walk away. Run away if you have to. Turn off the TV. Turn off the radio. Turn off the computer. Throw that book or magazine in the garbage can where it belongs.
Exercise what President Brigham Young (1801–77) called “the mental force of faith.” He said: “By and by the world will be overturned according to the words of the prophet, and we will see the reign of righteousness enter in, and sin and iniquity will have to walk off. But the power and principles of evil, if they can be called principles, will never yield one particle to the righteous march of the Savior, [unless] they are beaten back inch by inch, and we have got to take the ground by force. Yes, by the mental force of faith, and by good works, the march forth of the Gospel will increase, spread, grow and prosper.”
President Young was speaking about our efforts to fill the world with the gospel, but his words also apply to our efforts to fill our lives with goodness. Force that evil thought or image out of your mind by singing a hymn, reciting a scripture, saying a prayer. “Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good” (Romans 12:21).
Remember what President Gordon B. Hinckley has taught us over and over again about pornography:
“Of course you are tempted. It seems as if the whole world has become obsessed with sex. In a very beguiling and alluring way, it is thrown at you constantly. You are exposed to it on television, in magazines and books, in videos, even in music. Turn your back on it. Shun it. I know that is easy to say, and difficult to do. But each time that you do so, it will be so much the easier the next time. What a wonderful thing it will be if someday you can stand before the Lord and say, ‘I am clean.’
“The Lord has given a commandment in our time that applies to each of us. He has said, ‘Let virtue garnish thy thoughts unceasingly.’ And with this He has given a promise, ‘Then shall thy confidence wax strong in the presence of God’ (D&C 121:45). I believe He is saying that if we are clean in mind and body, the time will come when we can stand confidently before the Lord. … There will be a feeling of confidence and there will also be smiles of approval.”
Remember: if a bug flies into your mouth, spit it out!

Many years ago I had an experience with being unforgiving. I felt I had been taken advantage of, and I did not like the person. I did not want to be around him. I would pass to the other side of the street if he came down the side I was on. I wouldn’t talk to him; and long after the issue should have been closed, it was still cankering my soul. One day my wife, who is very astute and knows when I’m not doing everything I should, said, “You don’t like so and so, do you?”

“No, I don’t,” I said, “but how could you tell?”

“Well, it shows—in your countenance it shows. Why don’t you do something about it,” she said.

“Well, like what?”

“Why don’t you pray about it.”

I said, “Well, I did pray once, and I still don’t like him.”

“No,” she said, “Why don’t you really pray about it?”

Then I began to think, and I knew what she really meant. So I decided that I was going to pray for a better feeling about this person until I had one. That night I got on my knees, and I prayed and opened up my heart to the Lord. But when I got off my knees, I still didn’t like him. The next morning I knelt and prayed and asked to have a feeling of goodness toward him; but when I finished my prayers, I still didn’t like him. The next night I still didn’t like him; a week later I didn’t like him; and a month later I didn’t like him—and I had been praying every night and every morning. But I kept it up, and I finally started pleading, not just praying, but pleading. After much prayer—and I can’t tell you a specific time because it didn’t happen like that—the time came when without question or reservation I knew I could stand before the Lord, if I were asked to, and that He would know that at least in this instance my heart was pure. A change came over me after a period of time. Now that stone of unforgiveness needs to be removed from all of us, if it happens to be there, and I suggest that persistent prayer might be a way to remove it.

In fast and testimony meeting, Brother Johnson told of an experience he’d had while driving across a lonely stretch of highway. The still, small voice had told him to take a different route home, one that would add about ten miles to his trip. Although he had been eager to get back home from his business trip, he obeyed the prompting. On his detour, he came across a rollover accident. A young family had been traveling a long way to visit relatives. When the father, who was driving the car, fell asleep, the car had drifted too close to the side of the road and had rolled off a steep embankment. Brother Johnson was able to help the young family by calling for help on the phone he carried in his car and by administering first-aid to the father, who had some serious cuts and bruises.

For some time the rumors had been coming in from Salt Lake City, but confirmation of the facts was difficult. Finally, the official word came in a brief telegram signed “Hinckley.” The word spread quickly amongst the members of the Israel Group—“President Lee is definitely coming. The Prophet will be here in the Holy Land.” And so there we were, at the airport, waiting in the VIP room with representatives of the Ministries of Tourism, Foreign Affairs, and Religious Affairs. With fewer than thirty Latter-day Saints in the entire country, the prospects of a meeting with President Harold B. Lee, Elder Gordon B. Hinckley, and President Edwin Q. Cannon, Jr., of the Switzerland Mission—along with their wives—was exciting, to say the least.
President Lee had come to retrace the footsteps of the Savior during a brief trip that took him to several countries and a number of conferences of the Church. President and Sister Cannon had been invited to join the party in Athens and to accompany them (the Switzerland Mission having authority over branches in the Middle East).
I had met President Lee before, as had some of our other members—including group leader David B. Galbraith. But this visit was different, for he now came as the Lord’s anointed. There had been many visits to the Holy Land by General Authorities of the Church since Orson Hyde’s visit in 1841, and several of the present-day leaders of the Church had met with us in our Sacrament meetings. But this was the very first visit of any president of the Church in this dispensation to this land where the head of the Church, our Lord and Master, spent his mortal life.
In the hustle and bustle of the official reception and introductions, I was particularly impressed by the humble spirit displayed by the man for whom all the fuss was being made. Extending his hand he said, simply, “Hello. I’m Brother Lee.”
“Brother Lee”—a simple, yet somehow exalted title. Laying aside his title of president of the Church, he chose to represent himself in his most important role—that of a spirit-child of God, a true brother to all of us. His deference to others was continually displayed in the way he courteously assisted his wife at all times, even when it was inconvenient for himself. At one meal, while we were eating fish, President Lee arose from his place—leaving his own meal to cool—and carefully took the bones from her fish.
During their visits to sites where Jesus had lived and taught, both President Lee and Elder Hinckley were occasionally seen sitting in silent meditation, often with tears in their eyes, as they contemplated the mission of the man who had called them into his service. On several occasions, President Lee tried to play down the activities of the noisy crowds of tourists who poured into the holy places.
We found the President both firm in his convictions and willing to listen to the ideas of others. Brother Galbraith drove the car for President and Sister Lee and Elder and Sister Hinckley, explaining to them many things of interest along the way. On one occasion Sister Lee said, “Dear, I haven’t heard you say a word for the past forty minutes.” To this the President replied, “Darling, I learn much more by listening than by talking.”
Such a great lesson it was, and he taught it not by word but by example, as a true disciple of Christ should. He set the example for us in many ways. One evening, after a long tiring day, President Lee was so bothered by an ailment that it was difficult for him to go to sleep. He called upon Elder Hinckley and President Cannon to give him a blessing, which resulted in great relief. Here indeed is a man who takes the priesthood for what it truly is—a blessing from God to be put to use and not merely hidden away until Sunday morning.
Most impressive to us members was our meeting with three presiding brethren in the Garden Tomb in Jerusalem on September 20. Their strong testimony of Jesus, given in this sacred spot from whence he arose from the dead, moved us to a greater determination to do good. And this being one of the essentials of the calling of a prophet, we can thereby further testify that Harold B. Lee is deserving of that title.
At that time the small group of Saints was officially organized as the Jerusalem Branch, President Cannon calling for the sustaining votes. Brother Galbraith was set apart as branch president by President Lee, and Elder Hinckley set me apart as first counselor. I have received numerous blessings in the Church at the hands of the priesthood but none so inspiring as that given to me on this occasion. Elder Hinckley’s words concerning matters that he could not have known without revelation from the Lord, and the subsequent fulfillment of two specific promises given in that blessing, are additional evidence of the Spirit that guides the leaders of the Church.
I made a deliberate attempt to gain some idea of the reaction of the brethren when the call was made for sustaining votes, and hence looked in President Lee’s direction. I have often sat in conferences of the Church and raised my hand to sustain the prophet of the Lord. But this was the first time I had ever witnessed a prophet raising his hand to sustain me. It was something I’ll never forget, something which, embedded in my memory, will remind me of my responsibilities if ever I hesitate to do that which the Lord requires of me.
Words cannot really express my feelings at spending these several precious hours in the presence of God’s chosen spokesman and his close associates. But somehow I have felt the need to try in order that others may profit in some small measure from the Spirit that was and has remained with us since the Prophet of God visited. I hope that all who read these words will come to appreciate the sincere love and concern of President Harold B. Lee for each member of the Church and for all mankind—a love that makes him most fitting as the channel through which God extends to mankind the means whereby salvation and exaltation may be attained.

A man I know was in a terrible car accident when he was a teenager. He was lucky to survive, and because of the wreck, had to undergo extensive plastic surgery on his face. After a year of operations, the work was finally done, and his life returned to normal.
When he went back to school, his friends immediately noticed that his nose didn’t look quite the same as it had before the accident. They promptly nicknamed him “rubbernose.”
“They called me rubbernose all the time,” he recalls, “just teasing of course. Naturally, I laughed right along with them, never complaining, never asking them to stop. But every time they called me that, it hurt. I’ve never forgotten it.”

A Coach’s Conversion
Like many other young adults, football coach Solomon Eliya Tumane had questions about religion. “I wanted to know about God and why He asks us to pray, and about Jesus Christ and why He died for us. I was confused, but I was studying the scriptures, particularly the Old Testament.
“Then one day I was coming from work, and I saw two missionaries. I asked them the question about Jesus Christ. As they talked about Him, I could tell they loved Him. They invited me to come to church, and when I did, I felt something inside telling me that this was what I had been looking for all those years.
“The missionaries taught me to pray and that it is important because it is our way to talk to Heavenly Father and to find the truth. I accepted what the missionaries taught me. I knew it was the true gospel, especially when we would read the scriptures together and pray about them.”

One of my favorite inspiring learning opportunities this past year involved a group of students—most of whom were born outside of the United States—who visited historic sites of the Restoration. While in the Sacred Grove—the hallowed ground where Joseph Smith’s First Vision took place—they video chatted with family members in their home countries, sharing this singular opportunity with loved ones who might not have the chance to visit that sacred space themselves.

Our leadership is determined to offer those kinds of experiences to more students. Inspiring, experiential learning can happen right here on this campus—sometimes in classrooms, sometimes in labs, and yes, in uniquely designed campus work on campus and off campus.

As a Seventy, Elder Stevenson was assigned as a counselor in the Area Presidency and then as president of the Asia North Area.
In March 2011, an earthquake and tsunami devastated Japan. The 9.0-magnitude temblor generated a seismic sea wave that left 20,000 dead, displaced thousands, and destroyed 550,000 homes.
He visited the disaster zone many times. “As we met with people, our emotions ran from one end of the spectrum to the other,” he recalls. “We simultaneously observed tragedy and loss mixed with hope and restoration. Over and over again our hearts were touched as we witnessed the healing balm of our Savior’s love.”
In addition, he witnessed firsthand how the Church helps those in need: “To be able to react to a calamity and to help shape a response—that was a manifestation of the Church of Jesus Christ filling one of its divinely appointed responsibilities of caring for the poor and needy.” He described it as a sacred privilege to minister to those in need and see others do the same: “We learned about the goodness of humanity.”

Steven J. Lund
After I taught sixth grade for three years, I learned that if I taught for four more years, the school district would pay part of my tuition to receive my master’s degree. It seemed like a good plan—until the Spirit prompted me to quit my job and go back and get my degree right then. My wife had a similar prompting, so we moved forward. It meant we would have to pay for school ourselves. But because we did, I was hired to teach at BYU—Provo. That window of opportunity never would have been open had we waited four more years. We did not know how things would work out, but the Lord directed our paths just as He promised.

Another temple worker lost his wife after she had suffered a debilitating illness for several years. After her funeral he told me, “I thought I knew what love was—we’d had over fifty blessed years together. But only in trying to care for her in these last few years did I discover what love is.” By going where he had to go, in being afflicted in her afflictions, this man discovered wellsprings of compassion deep in his own heart that a hireling will never know exist. The accumulation of such discoveries produces the sanctifying process of becoming like the Good Shepherd—by living and giving as He does. Not incidentally, that kind of living breathes irreplaceable strength into the social interests of our culture.

Recalling his experience in Primary, Elder Ashton said, “In those days we had Primary and religion classes. Primary was devoted to character and personality development, and we were aided by charts, projects, songs, and recitations. In our religion classes we studied nothing but the scriptures and doctrine.
“I had a Primary teacher by the name of Sister Barton, who really made an impression on me. I was wiggly, and she knew that I had extra energy. She got me to use some of that energy in cleaning the chalkboard and in other ways so that I wouldn’t be mischievous or disruptive.”

When I was a teenager, I set the goal of getting a degree in sports. I prayed a lot, asking the Lord to make it so practices would be on Saturdays. However, my team’s practices were scheduled on Sundays. I had to make a choice: give up on my goal or skip church. Since both were important to me, I compromised. I would go to practices for two Sundays and then go to church on the third Sunday. Unfortunately, this little deviation from my faith led to sin, causing much suffering.
It did not take me long to realize my mistake. I asked to be on a different team. However, it was too late; the wrong had been done. I had half opened the door, and Satan had pushed it wide open. Eventually I gave up competitive sports.
I learned two valuable things. The first is that when we seek to compromise with the Lord, we are in great danger. The second is that I had made the mistake of believing my faith was strong enough that I could do without Sunday meetings. Our spirit needs nourishment just as our body does. If we were to eat only one meal and then skip the next two meals, we could not remain in good health.
I love Sundays now. The Lord has blessed me in my studies and my health above measure.