Gospel Story Finder

Throughout my life I have received priesthood blessings to help me as I worked toward my goals of education and service. While serving in my calling at the prison I received a blessing that opened my eyes of understanding about our relationship with our Heavenly Father, the respect He has for our righteous goals, and the deep love He has for each one of us. I don’t usually share personal blessings, but I feel that this blessing was meant to be shared.

On the day that I received this blessing, the stake presidency of the sponsoring stake at the prison was visiting our meetings. All of the women who wanted blessings had received them. I was then asked by a member of the stake presidency if I would like a priesthood blessing. At the beginning of the blessing the counselor giving the blessing thanked me for my service. Then he paused and said the following: “The Lord desires your success. He desires your success in all aspects of your life—in your profession, in your education, in your family, in your relationships. The Lord desires your success.”

It empowers me when I realize that the Lord desires my success. It motivates me to engage my mind in education and righteous activities, to be a better person, to set righteous goals, to be a good friend, to consecrate my learning, and to go forward with faith.

Many years ago Sister Uchtdorf and I were traveling through southern Germany. It was just before Easter, and we invited a good friend, who was not a member of the Church, to join us in our Sunday worship service. We loved this dear friend, so it was normal and natural to share with her how we felt about the Savior and His Church and to invite her to come and see! She accepted the invitation and joined us at the meetings of a nearby branch.
If you have ever brought a friend to church for the first time, you can probably relate to the way I felt that Sunday morning. I wanted everything to go perfectly. Our friend was a highly educated, spiritual person. I earnestly hoped the meetings of this branch would make a good impression on her and represent the Church well.
The branch met in some rented rooms on the second floor of a grocery store. To get there, we had to take the stairs at the back of the building, passing the strong aromas from goods stored there.
As the sacrament meeting began, I thought about my friend experiencing this for the first time, and I couldn’t help but notice things that made me cringe a little. The singing, for example, didn’t exactly sound like the Tabernacle Choir. Restless, noisy children could be heard during the sacrament. The speakers did their best, but they were not skilled at public speaking. I sat uncomfortably through the meeting, hoping that maybe Sunday School would be better.
It wasn’t.
All morning I worried about what our friend must think of this church we had taken her to.
Afterward, as we drove home, I turned to talk to our friend. I wanted to explain that this was just one small branch and it didn’t really represent the Church as a whole. But before I could say a word, she spoke up.
“That was beautiful,” she said.
I was speechless.
She continued, “I’m so impressed with how people treat each other in your church. They all seem to come from different backgrounds, and yet it’s clear that they genuinely love each other. This is what I imagine Christ wanted His Church to be like.”
Well, I quickly repented of my judgmental attitude. I had wanted picture-perfect meetings to impress my friend. But what the members of this branch had achieved was a heart-perfect spirit of love, kindness, patience, and compassion.
As I learned from my friend in Germany, our love for God and His children is a powerful testimony to the world that this is truly the Savior’s Church.

For several years my daughter Brittany worked as an aide at the Dan Peterson School, a school in the Alpine School District for children with severe and profound disabilities. This was a natural fit for Brittany. She worked effectively with children with severe physical and mental disabilities, especially focusing on the deaf and blind population. Administrators, faculty, aides, parents, and students at the Dan Peterson School loved Brittany. Her natural happiness combined with her deep compassion for the students made her a tremendous asset to the school. Britt would often cry at the circumstances of the children with whom she worked. She truly worked to “suffer with” her students.
Brittany always wanted me to visit the school and meet her students. She felt so proud of them and wanted me to interact with them. On the occasions when I was privileged to meet Brittany’s students, I marveled at the way Brittany saw them, not as persons with profound disabilities but as her friends, deserving of deep love and respect. One time a deaf and blind boy in Brittany’s class grabbed her hair and pulled—hard! Britt could not get him to loosen his grip, and when other aides were finally able to get his hands loose, he had a handful of her hair. When I asked about it later, Brittany felt no anger, not even frustration, with this boy. “He can’t help it, Dad. Imagine what his world must be like.”
Truly, I had never stopped to imagine what his world was like. I suppose that was the secret to Brittany’s success in the school. She stopped to imagine what her students’ world would be like, and, having entered their world, she loved these students with a true Christlike love.

I know a young man who was thrilled to be selected for an all-star basketball team to play in a tournament in another state. The first evening at the hotel, the other roommates decided to watch pornographic movies. This boy left the room and walked the city by himself well into the night until the movies were over. I am sure it was embarrassing, lonely, and challenging. But that is courage; that is manhood in its truest sense. And I say, “Behold a man!”—an 18-year-old boy turned man. I know hundreds of young men who have withstood ridicule and embarrassment to turn down drugs, alcohol, and sex in order to turn to serve one another, provide a righteous example, or defend the principles of righteousness. All young men must face the wiles of Satan. It is impossible to escape this fight. But it is always possible to come out victorious. Yes, a true man is strong enough to withstand the wiles of Satan.

Elder Neal A. Maxwell tells the following story:

Thomas B. Marsh, once president of the Twelve Apostles, was excommunicated, yet he returned. In 1857 he made his way to Salt Lake City, where he spoke in the Bowery and humbly asked for forgiveness. To the congregation he said: "I became jealous of the Prophet and then I saw double, and overlooked everything that was right and spent all my time looking for the evil; …I thought I saw a beam in brother Joseph's eye but it was nothing but a tiny mote and my own eye was filled with a beam."

Elder Maxwell goes on to say, "Those in communities of Saints will love but not follow the disappointed dissenter. Instead they will help each other to sustain and support the brethren" (If Thou Endure it Well p. 102).

When I was a very small boy, my father found a lamb all alone out in the desert. The herd of sheep to which its mother belonged had moved on, and somehow the lamb got separated from its mother, and the shepherd must not have known that it was lost. Because it could not survive alone in the desert, my father picked it up and brought it home. To have left the lamb there would have meant certain death, either by falling prey to the coyotes or by starvation because it was so young that it still needed milk. Some sheepmen call these lambs “bummers.” My father gave the lamb to me and I became its shepherd.
For several weeks I warmed cow’s milk in a baby’s bottle and fed the lamb. We became fast friends. I called him Nigh—why I don’t remember. It began to grow. My lamb and I would play on the lawn. Sometimes we would lie together on the grass and I would lay my head on its soft, woolly side and look up at the blue sky and the white billowing clouds. I did not lock my lamb up during the day. It would not run away. It soon learned to eat grass. I could call my lamb from anywhere in the yard by just imitating as best I could the bleating sound of a sheep: Baa. Baa.
One night there came a terrible storm. I forgot to put my lamb in the barn that night as I should have done. I went to bed. My little friend was frightened in the storm, and I could hear it bleating. I knew that I should help my pet, but I wanted to stay safe, warm, and dry in my bed. I didn’t get up as I should have done. The next morning I went out to find my lamb dead. A dog had also heard its bleating cry and killed it. My heart was broken. I had not been a good shepherd or steward of that which my father had entrusted to me. My father said, “Son, couldn’t I trust you to take care of just one lamb?” My father’s remark hurt me more than losing my woolly friend. I resolved that day, as a little boy, that I would try never again to neglect my stewardship as a shepherd if I were ever placed in that position again. …
After more than sixty years, I can still hear in my mind the bleating, frightened cry of the lamb of my boyhood that I did not shepherd as I should have. I can also remember the loving rebuke of my father: “Son, couldn’t I trust you to take care of just one lamb?” If we are not good shepherds, I wonder how we will feel in the eternities.

Last October, I was assigned, along with President M. Russell Ballard and Elder Jeffrey R. Holland, to visit the United Kingdom, where all three of us served as young missionaries. We had the privilege of teaching and testifying, as well as reliving early Church history in the British Isles, where my great-great-grandfather Heber C. Kimball and his associates were the first missionaries.
President Russell M. Nelson, teasing us about this assignment, noted that it was unusual to assign three Apostles to visit the area where they had served as missionaries in their youth. He acknowledged that all desire to be assigned to visit their original mission. With a big smile on his face, he succinctly explained the precedent that if there is another set of three Apostles who served in the same mission over 60 years ago, then they also may receive a similar assignment.
In preparation for that assignment, I reread the Life of Heber C. Kimball, written by his grandson Orson F. Whitney, who later was called to the apostleship. This volume was given to me by my precious mother when I was almost seven years old. We were preparing to attend the dedication of the This Is the Place Monument on July 24, 1947, by President George Albert Smith. She wanted me to know more about my ancestor Heber C. Kimball.
This book contains a profound statement attributed to President Kimball that has significance for our day. Before sharing the statement, let me provide a little background.
While the Prophet Joseph Smith was incarcerated in Liberty Jail, Apostles Brigham Young and Heber C. Kimball had the responsibility, under terribly adverse circumstances, of overseeing the evacuation of the Saints from Missouri. The evacuation was required in large part because of the extermination order issued by Governor Lilburn W. Boggs.
Almost 30 years later Heber C. Kimball, then in the First Presidency, reflecting on this history with a new generation, taught, “Let me say to you, that many of you will see the time when you will have all the trouble, trial and persecution that you can stand, and plenty of opportunities to show that you are true to God and His work.”
Heber continued: “To meet the difficulties that are coming, it will be necessary for you to have a knowledge of the truth of this work for yourselves. The difficulties will be of such a character that the man or woman who does not possess this personal knowledge or witness will fall. If you have not got the testimony, live right and call upon the Lord and cease not [until] you [attain] it. If you do not you will not stand. … The time will come when no man nor woman will be able to endure on borrowed light. Each will have to be guided by the light within himself. … If you don’t have it you will not stand; therefore seek for the testimony of Jesus and cleave to it, that when the trying time comes you may not stumble and fall.”
We each need a personal testimony of God’s work and the seminal role of Jesus Christ. The 76th section of the Doctrine and Covenants refers to the three degrees of glory and compares the celestial glory to the sun. It then compares the terrestrial kingdom to the moon.
It is interesting that the sun has its own light, but the moon is reflected light or “borrowed light.” Speaking of the terrestrial kingdom, verse 79 states, “These are they who are not valiant in the testimony of Jesus.” We cannot obtain the celestial kingdom and live with God the Father on borrowed light; we need our own testimony of Jesus Christ and His gospel.
We live in a world where iniquity abounds and hearts turn from God because of the precepts of men. One of the most compelling examples in the scriptures of Heber C. Kimball’s concerns about seeking a testimony of God’s work and Jesus Christ is set forth in Alma’s counsel to his three sons—Helaman, Shiblon, and Corianton. Two of his sons had been true to God and His work. But one son had made some bad decisions. To me the greatest significance of Alma’s counsel is that he was imparting it as a father for the benefit of his own children.
Alma’s first concern, like Heber C. Kimball’s, was that each have a testimony of Jesus Christ and be true to God and His work.
In Alma’s remarkable teaching to his son Helaman, he makes a profound promise that those who “put their trust in God shall be supported in their trials, and their troubles, and their afflictions, and shall be lifted up at the last day.”
While Alma had received a manifestation where he saw an angel, this is rare. Impressions made by the Holy Ghost are more typical. These impressions can be equally as important as angelic manifestations. President Joseph Fielding Smith taught: “Impressions on the soul that come from the Holy Ghost are far more significant than a vision. When Spirit speaks to spirit, the imprint upon the soul is far more difficult to erase.”
This leads us to Alma’s counsel to his second son, Shiblon. Shiblon was righteous, like his brother Helaman. The counsel I want to emphasize is Alma 38:12, which reads in part, “See that ye bridle all your passions, that ye may be filled with love.”
Bridle is an interesting word. When we ride a horse, we use the bridle to guide it. A good synonym might be to direct, control, or restrain. The Old Testament tells us we shouted for joy when we learned we would have physical bodies. The body is not evil—it is beautiful and essential—but some passions, if not used properly and appropriately bridled, can separate us from God and His work and adversely impact our testimony.
Let’s talk about two passions in particular—first, anger, and second, lust. It is interesting that both left unbridled or uncontrolled can cause great heartache, diminish the influence of the Spirit, and separate us from God and His work. The adversary takes every opportunity to fill our lives with images of violence and immorality.
In some families, it is not uncommon for an angry husband or wife to hit a spouse or a child. In July, I participated in a United Kingdom All-Party Parliamentary forum in London. Violence against women and youth was highlighted as a significant worldwide problem. In addition to violence, others have engaged in verbal abuse. The proclamation on the family tells us those “who abuse spouse or offspring … will one day stand accountable before God.”
President Nelson strongly emphasized this yesterday morning. Please make up your mind that regardless of whether your parents did or did not abuse you, you will not physically or verbally or emotionally abuse your spouse or children.
In our day one of the most significant challenges is contention and verbal abuse related to societal issues. In many cases anger and abusive language have replaced reason, discussion, and civility. Many have abandoned the admonition of the Savior’s senior Apostle, Peter, to seek Christlike qualities such as temperance, patience, godliness, brotherly kindness, and charity. They have also abandoned the Christlike quality of humility.
In addition to controlling anger and bridling other passions, we need to lead pure moral lives by controlling our thoughts, language, and actions. We need to avoid pornography, evaluate the appropriateness of what we are streaming in our homes, and avoid every form of sinful conduct.
This brings us to Alma’s counsel to his son Corianton. Unlike his brothers, Helaman and Shiblon, Corianton engaged in moral transgression.
Because Corianton had engaged in immorality, it was necessary for Alma to teach him about repentance. He had to teach him the seriousness of sin and then how to repent.
So Alma’s preventive counsel was to bridle passions, but his counsel for those who have transgressed was to repent. President Nelson gave members profound counsel on repentance at the April 2019 general conference. He made it clear that daily repentance is integral to our lives. “Repentance is not an event; it is a process. It is the key to happiness and peace of mind,” he taught. “Daily repentance is the pathway to purity, and purity brings power.” If Corianton had done what President Nelson counseled, he would have repented as soon as he had begun to entertain impure thoughts. Major transgressions would not have occurred.
The concluding counsel that Alma gave to his sons is some of the most important doctrine in all the scriptures. It relates to the Atonement wrought by Jesus Christ.
Alma testified that Christ would take away sin. Without the Savior’s Atonement, the eternal principle of justice would require punishment. Because of the Savior’s Atonement, mercy can prevail for those who have repented, and it can allow them to return to the presence of God. We would do well to ponder this wonderful doctrine.
None can return to God by his or her own good works alone; we all need the benefit of the Savior’s sacrifice. All have sinned, and it is only through the Atonement of Jesus Christ that we can obtain mercy and live with God.
Alma also gave wonderful counsel to Corianton for all of us who have gone through or will go through the repentance process, regardless of whether the sins are small or as severe as those committed by Corianton. Verse 29 of Alma 42 reads, “And now, my son, I desire that ye should let these things trouble you no more, and only let your sins trouble you, with that trouble which shall bring you down unto repentance.”
Corianton heeded Alma’s counsel and both repented and served honorably. Because of the Savior’s Atonement, healing is available to all.
In Alma’s day, in Heber’s day, and certainly in our day, we all need to seek our own testimony of Jesus Christ, bridle our passions, repent of our sins, and find peace through the Atonement of Jesus Christ and be true to God and His work.
In a recent talk and again this morning, President Russell M. Nelson said it this way: “I plead with you to take charge of your testimony of Jesus Christ. Work for it. Own it. Care for it. Nurture it so that it will grow. Then watch for miracles to happen in your life.”
I am grateful that we will now hear from President Nelson. I testify that President Nelson is the Lord’s prophet for our day. I love and treasure the marvelous inspiration and guidance we receive through him.
As an Apostle of the Lord Jesus Christ, I bear my sure witness of the Savior’s divinity and the reality of His Atonement in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Senen had lived in the mountains all his life, but he’d never traveled as far up the valley as he’d come that day.
If I can reach the gap between the mountains where the valley begins, he thought, I’ll be so high that maybe I can see all of Andorra.
Senen knew that his country was so small that he might be able to see it all from just one vantage point. Andorra covers only 465 square kilometers and is one of the smallest countries in the world. Some maps and globes don’t even bother to show its location. However, to Senen it was big enough. And surely its pine-clad mountains were among the most beautiful on earth.
Early that morning Senen had noticed that clouds were gathering around the tallest mountain peaks. However, as he’d climbed from the valley floor, he’d become lost in his thoughts and hadn’t noticed that those clouds were coming together and that even the mountaintops were being covered by dark, angry-looking clouds.
When Senen finally neared the big gap between the mountains, what appeared above him was unlike anything he had ever seen. Like a huge white hand reaching from the sky, a cloud billowed through the gap and began descending into the valley toward him. Slowly the cloud dropped lower and lower. The closer it came to Senen, the thinner it became. Finally it broke into separate wisps and vanished.
With a mighty burst of energy another cloud emerged through the gap. Within a few minutes, this one had descended even lower into the valley than the first one. Nevertheless, it, too, simply disappeared into the wind before it reached Senen.
What would it be like inside one of those clouds? Senen wondered.
Then, with even more energy than the last cloud seemed to have, another darker, faster-moving cloud poured through the gap. As it descended into the valley, Senen watched in awe; he could see the cloud’s surface churning and rolling like fresh milk gushing from a pail. But this cloud was not milk white. It was an angry, dark color, and it didn’t show any signs of disappearing!
Soon Senen knew what it was like to be inside a cloud, for the cloud had enveloped him! He could feel its cold, tiny droplets blowing against his face. He discovered beads of water forming, like tiny light bulbs on the hairs of his arms.
The wind inside the cloud was so strong that Senen had to hold on to a boulder to steady himself. He couldn’t see more than a couple of meters around him. As soon as the cloud disappears the way the others have, he decided, I’ll go home.
However, minutes passed and the cloud became darker. Worse still, in the distance thunder began rumbling among the mountain peaks.
“I’d better start back home now,” Senen murmured. Then a new thought sent shivers down his spine: Which way is home?
Senen could see nothing but the dark mists around him. He thought he remembered the right way home, but a few steps in that direction carried him smack into the trunk of a big pine tree.
Senen was lost in a cloud!
It seemed like hours passed as Senen huddled beneath a rocky overhang. The cloud became darker, and the thunder came closer. The pines groaned in the wind like giants bending their backs, trying to hold up the whole sky.
Then Senen heard the sound of bells. He heard small bells that went tink-tink-tink, big bells that went bonk-clunk-clang, and medium bells with all kinds of in-between sounds.
At first the beautiful clangor seemed to come from a distance. Then the bell sounds came closer. They surrounded Senen, then began moving away.
I’m not sure what’s happening, Senen thought, but I’m going to follow those bells!
That night Senen sat beside the glowing fireplace in his home. As the winds whistled through the big pines outside, he told his story. “When I heard those bells, I followed them. Down and down I came until finally the cloud wasn’t so dark and I could see where I was. I found myself in our own pasture, surrounded by our own cows! I’m so glad that the cows passed me today and that they were wearing bells.” Senen stopped and looked thoughtful. He asked, “Father, why do you put bells around the necks of some of our cattle?”
“Calves can get lost very easily,” Father explained. “However, when they hear the bells, they can simply follow the sound to their mamas.”
Senen laughed to think that in just one day he had learned what it feels like both to be inside a cloud and to be a little calf being led home by bells.

My mission president’s journal of 1986–1989 describes the same pattern, repeated again and again, with only a few variations: The sisters in Solothurn were prompted by the Spirit to go home from church via the town square, some distance out of their way, just at the moment a young father, a devout Pentecostal leader, crossed the same square. From Yugoslavia, very ill, and seeking a blessing of health, he had been told by the Holy Spirit to go to the town square at noon and he would find someone who could heal him. They met in the square—” by chance,” of course. He told them his need; the sisters led him back to the bishop’s office of the Solothurn chapel, where he received his promised blessing. They went to the man’s home on the following day to inquire after his health and learned that he had been instantly healed. They taught him and his wife and his family, who all joined the Church and later moved back to Yugoslavia- just in time to host the first LDS missionaries sent to open the country to missionary work. And a host of people shouted, “Hosanna!”

They also talk about another ingredient in their recipe for a happy home—family home evening. But that wasn’t always the case. “I remember when our family home evenings were mostly very long lessons,” says Christoffer, 18, with a playful glance in his mother’s direction.
“Sometimes I would get bored and fall asleep,” adds Andreas, who was only about five at that time. “But then I’d wake up, and there would be refreshments.”
Brother Ronndahl explains that when the children were quite young, Sister Ronndahl would regularly prepare lessons that were over an hour long. The lessons were difficult for the young children to sit through. Now the Ronndahls have eight children, ranging in age from 8 to 23 years old—the oldest, Rebecka, has served a full-time mission and is now attending college in the United States.
Brother and Sister Ronndahl decided to change their approach to family home evening. “We gathered the family together and said, ‘Hey, what do you like to do?’ ” says Sister Ronndahl. The parents weren’t too surprised to learn that the kids liked the food, the games, and singing hymns—they even liked the idea of a lesson, if it were only shorter. Brother Ronndahl sums it up well when he says the right ingredients were there but maybe not in the right amounts. “We discovered we should focus on the fun side of things too,” he says.
Sister Ronndahl decided to make an extra-nice dinner so Monday would start out as a special night. Then for family home evening they added a healthy measure of games and singing. They also shortened the lessons to about 10 minutes. The mixture worked well. “The children started to look forward to Monday nights,” says Kristina. “Everybody loved it.”
Now that the children are older, the lessons have lengthened and deepened. Rosanna, 20, says, “We actually can do very good lessons nowadays. We love to discuss the gospel and other things. It’s fun because we have so many opinions and ideas. Now it is more interesting because we’re talking about things that we want to talk about.” But the music, games, and refreshments are still part of the recipe.
“My favorite things are the refreshments and games,” says Josefin, 12.
“Refreshments and games of course,” echoes Christoffer.
“I think the songs and music are the best,” says Rosanna.
“The lessons,” Isabelle chimes in meekly. Her brothers and sisters immediately offer Isabelle some good-natured teasing. “No, really,” she adds earnestly.
“I think the whole family home evening is my favorite,” says Andreas. “The lesson, songs, games, refreshments—all of them together make it very fun. If we had a family home evening without a lesson or games or songs, it would feel like something was missing.”
“I love it when Brynolf and I don’t have to do anything for family home evening,” says Sister Ronndahl. “We can just sit aside, and the children lead and they have the lesson and they have the refreshments. They do everything. That’s my favorite.”

Sermon 2: Creation is Generally Pain-stakingly Slow But Rewarding; Destruction is Quick But Unfulfilling.
This sermon was taught to me earlier this summer when I cut down two large pine trees in my backyard that were approximately twenty-five and forty feet in height. I enlisted the help of a "crack" team of veteran lumberjacks to help me with the project (you can see from the images of my children that they were a rough and rowdy bunch). The trees had probably been planted when the home was newly built in 1973.

The thought occurred to me in the middle of the process that literally in a matter of hours I was destroying what had taken forty years to create. (Another backyard sermon was under way). To my mind came other things which had been built laboriously over time only to be destroyed in moments.

I thought of King David's marriage, kingdom and exaltation all consumed in his lust for Bath-Sheba; Abel's mortal life and Cain's eternal prospects were quickly dispatched in that first case of fratricide; and Thomas B. Marsh's standing in the Church was quickly diminished due to one little milky mess. Surely we can all think of instances in our personal lives or the lives of those dear to us where years of building have been destroyed in moments.

As I continued to work towards toppling the trees I thought of the precious shade, life-giving photosynthesis and two big, beautiful conifers that were home to squirrels and birds that would now be gone. The destructive consequences of my actions became particularly poignant when, upon finally getting to the lower branches of one of the trees, I watched a dove fly out of her nest as it tumbled from its resting place and her eggs broke upon the ground--the mother had waited until the last possible moment to abandon her nest and eggs.

I still stand by my decision to cut the trees down, but in that moment I felt the Spirit reminding me that there are always victims left in the wake of destructive actions and that few worthwhile things are ever accomplished overnight or in an instant. It should be a great life lesson to all of us that God's works--including Creation, Atonement, Exaltation and Salvation--require painstaking, deliberate effort and that they take place over time in perfect order until all is finally in place.

Similarly, in our lives, corn is not planted and then harvested in a single day and eternal families aren't created in one FHE. Being a builder and a creator and emulating The Creator in this life generally means steady, patient, laborious work. Conversely, those who want everything now and are willing to take shortcuts are not true builders.

Before going much further, I would like to introduce my topic with a personal experience. When I was about thirteen years of age, we lived on a cattle ranch in Wyoming. It was a glorious experience for a young man who loved the outdoors. In the spring we often had the experience of having a group of heifers that required constant and watchful care. For those of you who do not know what a heifer is, it is a female cow having her first calf. This situation requires that you check on the heifers about every six hours—including getting up in the middle of the night—so that if a heifer is having a difficult time, she can be assisted and the rancher does not lose the mother and/or the calf.

On one occasion, a rather wild heifer was having difficulty and needed our assistance. My mother, father, and I gathered in the field to try and herd the heifer into a smaller corral in which we could help her. At times such herding can be rather challenging, especially when the herding result is not where the heifer wants to go. We were spread out, with my mother on my left and my father on my right. I was in the middle, being the youngest and the fastest.

As we began to crowd the heifer, she bolted to our left in an attempt to pass between my mother and the fence. My mother ran toward the fence to try and turn the heifer back, but I noticed that the angle she was taking was going to allow the heifer to pass. So I took a deeper angle and ran as well.

I saw my mother slip and dive head first like she was trying to steal second base in the World Series. As you can imagine, in a field full of cattle, there are these round, fresh, brownish piles everywhere. My mother most gracefully slid through one and was covered literally from her face to her toes. Naturally, it was quite funny, and I began to laugh. My mother, being the great sport she is, also began to laugh. However, the heifer got past both of us, and that was not very pleasing to my father, who was not laughing.

My father ordered us to get around and turn that heifer back toward the corral. To his demand, my mother wisely replied, looking directly at me, “Come on, Joe. We are going to the house. He can do it himself.”

Well, I had a real dilemma. Follow my father or obey my mother? I made the correct choice. I followed my mother!

A Church member gives a refugee mother a special quilt that belonged to her adopted son.
Photograph by Marc Marriott
To help you see the divine in each person, ask yourself, “If the individual were a family member or a loved one, how would my view of this person change?”
This question became very personal to one Latter-day Saint woman when her Relief Society held a baby shower for a refugee mother in their community.
Her Relief Society presidency contacted a local refugee resettlement agency to find a mother they could help. Once they had been connected with a mother and her family, the presidency visited the home to ask how they could be of the most help. (An important part of the principle of humanity is honoring a refugee’s agency by asking how they would like to be helped and then sincerely listening.)
The Relief Society president suggested a baby shower, explaining it as a way to celebrate a new child and give gifts that the baby and mother may need. The refugee family agreed that would be helpful to them.
As the ward began planning the shower, one sister found she had a special “soft spot” for those who must come to a new home after her experience adopting a baby from Guatemala. During the long process of adoption, this sister had kept busy by making a quilt for her new baby. As she compared the experience of her own adopted son to this new refugee baby, she wanted to connect with the family by giving them the quilt she had made.
At the baby shower, this woman explained her connection to the refugee mother, describing how her young son also had to come to a new home and how they had loved wrapping him in the quilt when he arrived. The woman gave the refugee mother the quilt and said, “I hope that your new baby will love it too.”

Mrs. Kaufman, my German teacher, was late as usual. Normally I wouldn’t care, but I was particularly frustrated with grammar and needed the extra instruction time. Another 10 minutes passed. I was annoyed when she finally appeared. Several students had already left, assuming class was cancelled.
When the bell rang for break, Mrs. Kaufman apologized, saying that class would be cut short. She would postpone the upcoming exam another week to give us time to study. Relieved, I began to pack up my books when another classmate asked, “Mrs. Kaufman, is everything all right?” Mrs. Kaufman choked back tears as she explained that her father had just passed away. I felt horrible. Mrs. Kaufman was dealing with something on a spiritual level and I hadn’t even noticed.
That night I thought of Mrs. Kaufman and her father. As I read my scriptures, I felt peace knowing that Heavenly Father had a plan. I wondered how sad I would be if I didn’t know about the plan of salvation. I could feel the Spirit prompting me to share the peace I felt with Mrs. Kaufman and give her a copy of the Book of Mormon.
I tried to ignore the prompting. I was afraid to give Mrs. Kaufman a Book of Mormon because she was my teacher. But I decided to move forward anyway. I found a German copy of the Book of Mormon and also wrote Mrs. Kaufman a letter bearing my testimony. I wrapped them up and placed them in my backpack to give to her.
When I got to class the next day, I squirmed uncomfortably. I thought of the wrapped German copy of the Book of Mormon in my backpack. I couldn’t focus as I thought about whether I should give it to her. I prayed for confidence. At the end of class, I placed the parcel into her hands. I stammered my condolences and began sharing my testimony. As I spoke, I felt the Spirit, and the words came easier. I saw tears in Mrs. Kaufman’s eyes as she listened. When she unwrapped the gift and read the words “Das Buch Mormon: Ein weiterer Zeuge für Jesus Christus,” she smiled and asked me if this was a book from my church. I nodded. She promised she would read it.
The following Thursday she told me that the Book of Mormon had given her comfort. I was glad I had listened to the promptings of the Holy Ghost and that I was able to give Mrs. Kaufman some peace by sharing my testimony with her. Now when I pick up my German copy of the Book of Mormon, I think about Mrs. Kaufman and feel grateful for Heavenly Father’s plan of salvation.

On that long, recent journey around the earth, we met another friend who once was on the faculty of Brigham Young University. Now his children are grown; and he and his wife concluded that rather than retire into idleness as they could well have done, and as millions of others in this land are doing, they would find someplace in the world where they could help some of our Father’s children by teaching them the truths that will save them. They found such a land. They sold their beautiful Utah home; they sold their Lincoln Continental; they left friends and relatives for a distant, less comfortable place. As they have cast their bread upon the waters, the Lord has opened opportunities for them to teach and lift and help. No one can foretell the consequences of their pioneering. As I have thought of this man and woman, who have left the comforts of their home and the society of their friends at an age when most people want to slow down and take it easy, I have thought of the words of the Lord, “And every one that hath forsaken houses, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lands, for my name’s sake, shall receive an hundredfold and shall inherit everlasting life” (Matthew 19:29).

In 2018, I was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer. It came as a shock. I was an active wife, mother, grandmother, and, at the time, missionary at the beautiful Cove Fort Historic Site. I was also an active artist; painting and drawing have always been a source of joy and an expression of faith for me. So, when the disease began to take my energy and eyesight, I felt despair.
But one morning I awoke with the thought, “How dull and uninspiring a composition of music or art would be without contrast—light versus dark, soft versus bold, calm versus storm. So it is with the composition of our lives.”
I was reminded of a talk by Sister Sharon Eubank, First Counselor in the Relief Society General Presidency, given at the 2020 festival of the Center for Latter-day Saint Arts. She discussed the way art helps us persevere and even thrive. 2 I pondered the idea. What if we were to compose our lives the same way an artist composes a masterpiece? And what might that masterpiece look like with the help of the Savior and our Heavenly Father?
Here are five artistic elements that we can apply to our personal lives.
The scriptures teach us that we are free to “act for [ourselves] and not to be acted upon” (2 Nephi 2:26). One of the most powerful ways for us to act is to pursue an intentional vision for our lives. A famous example of artistic vision is the story of Michelangelo’s statue of David. Michelangelo observed a massive piece of stone that had been sitting behind the town square for decades. The stone was weathered and flawed. But, as Sister Eubank observed, “Michelangelo had the eye to be able to see through what most people would say is an unworkable, imperfect piece of stone” 3 and visualize something divine. Had he not seen and pursued his vision, the stone’s potential would have been lost forever. We can view ourselves with the same inherent potential, no matter how far from perfect we might feel.
The gospel of Jesus Christ provides all the tools we need to create a masterpiece of our lives. Having the tools available is not the same as mastering the tools. Artists know that mastery requires daily practice over a lifetime. One of my favorite tools is a kneaded eraser, which is almost magical in its ability to remove mistakes without damaging the surface of the artwork. In life we are so blessed to have a spiritual kneaded eraser called repentance. The Lord promised, “Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow” (Isaiah 1:18). No matter what mistakes we have made, Christ can perfectly repair the masterpiece we are striving to become.
In Remembrance of Me, by Walter Rane
Experienced artists are careful to determine the prime location for the focal point in a painting. Other elements in the painting are designed to direct the viewer’s eye to that location. So it is with life. Our focal point, the Savior, should be at the heart of everything we do. And like great artists, we should step back frequently to ensure our focal point is not being diminished. This task is not easy. President Russell M. Nelson taught: “Our focus must be riveted on the Savior and His gospel. It is mentally rigorous to strive to look unto Him in every thought.” 4 Preparing for and worthily partaking of the sacrament each week is one way for us to take a step back and reaffirm our focus.
In art, the term values refers to the balance between light and dark shades. When used properly, values reveal the composition’s source of light. In this way, differing values provide contrast and texture where there would otherwise be a gray dullness. Lehi taught that if Adam and Eve had remained in the garden, “they would have remained in a state of innocence, having no joy, for they knew no misery; doing no good, for they knew no sin” (2 Nephi 2:23). In other words, lack of contrast would have meant a lack of progress. Brilliant colors stand out amid darker shades the same way a star shines brightly out of a dark sky. For us, times of challenge are opportunities to live our values.
Photograph from Getty Images
The primary colors are red, yellow, and blue—the building blocks of all the beautiful colors in nature. Without red we would have no violet, no orange. Without blue we would have no teal, no purple. Without yellow we would have no goldenrod, no green. In the gospel, we have “Primary answers,” the foundational parts of our daily discipleship, such as scripture study, prayer, and obedience. Primary means “original,” “not … derived from anything else,” “fundamental.” 5 That definition fits the Primary answers perfectly. They are “original” because they are not derived from any other source but the teachings of Jesus Christ, and they have magnificent potential when used together. President Dallin H. Oaks taught, “Though each of these practices may seem to be small and simple, over time they result in powerful spiritual uplift and growth.” 6
Not all of us paint or draw or sculpt, but each one of us is composing a life, and each one of us will face opposition. My cancer diagnosis was a stark reminder that our time to compose is precious. Each day is another brush stroke. And when the picture of our life is complete, it will need a frame. If we have composed with care, that frame will be a crown of righteousness and the encircling arms of a loving Heavenly Father.
I have painted scenes that are dear to me, such as Cove Fort, where my husband served as director for two years, and this farm, which was located north of the Salt Lake City airport and was owned and operated by my father, Arza Hinckley, and his brother Rulon.
Hinckley Farm, by Louise Hinckley Crosby

Youth in the Roswell Georgia Stake wanted to have a fancy stake dance, too. So they proposed the idea to their leaders, but were disappointed to find that there wasn’t a free day on the stake calendar or any money in the stake budget. Still, they knew there must be a way to have a fun activity that wouldn’t compromise their standards.
So instead of giving up, the youth and their leaders put their heads together. They decided that, even if they couldn’t have a stake event, there was no reason they couldn’t throw a Church-standards dance on their own at one of the church buildings in the stake. They were careful to invite all the youth in the stake so no one was left out. They also left the door open for youth to bring nonmember friends if they were willing to agree to keep Church standards of dress and behavior. With the help of their parents and using several of the techniques listed in this article, they had great success.
“I have never had so much fun,” says Lindsay Menden, a Laurel. “It was a great chance for us to have fun and keep our standards.”

Suddenly, the cars arrived, and the hall of the stake house was crowded with boys in straw hats covered with cookies, and girls in neon yellow, green, and orange skirts with big bows holding giant candy bars as hats. And just as quickly, they gathered in a classroom for one more run-through of their song—“Buy Me Chocolate,” which helps explain the cookies and candy bars.
Then another group walked by, all dressed in black and white with red-checkered napkins. They were humming something that sounded vaguely operatic but had tongue-twisting lyrics. Another group had swatches of cloth with an African print. They were going over some steps in a dance.
The cultural hall of the Salt Lake Hunter Stake was filled wall to wall with families from nine wards, all waiting to see each ward’s performance in the Young Women and Young Men Choral Festival. Every ward had two songs to perform: one serious song and one fun song from another country that could include some dance steps. The wards chose from religious songs that have been printed in the New Era.
As each well-rehearsed ward came on stage, the energy began to build. Everyone was ready to sing with volume and enthusiasm. But when the Mapusaga (Samoan) Ward came on (they were the ones with the chocolate song), the Caribbean rhythm had everyone moving. After that, there was no stopping them. Each ward put everything they had into their performances before an appreciative audience.
Why have a choral festival? The youth in the Hunter stake now know it means some fun times at practices and an even better time at the performance. And the audience agreed.

When I was young and new to the Church, I was assigned to minister to an elderly man who lived by himself. He lived on the edge of town in an old motel room that had become an extended-stay residence for those who couldn’t afford apartments. He didn’t appear to have many possessions or family in the area and lived a lonely life. During one visit, he told me about the child who was stillborn to him and his wife. I marveled that he was brought to tears by the recollection of something that must have happened at least 50 years before. It would only be a brief time before I better understood his feelings.
Two years later my wife and I drove past the scene of a car accident. I realized that no police or ambulance had arrived yet. I had just completed an emergency medical technician course, so I stopped to see if I could help. When I made my way through the crowd, I saw an overturned vehicle with a small child lying nearby on the ground. There was no one giving her any care. I kneeled beside her and began to assess her condition, which was serious.
As I did, I heard someone call my name. I looked up into the face of a man in our ward who was less active. I realized this was his young daughter, who had attended our Primary. A nurse arrived, and we began CPR. When the ambulance crew took over, I returned to my friend’s side. I learned later that his child had ended up partially under the vehicle and others had pulled her out before my arrival. Her injuries were internal, and she did not survive.
Less than a year later, we were expecting our fourth daughter, and my wife carried her the full nine months. My wife woke me early one morning, saying her water had broken. We went to the hospital. After I parked the car, I went to her room and was told that the baby had died. I didn’t immediately understand, since we had only just arrived. When the doctor did his initial check, he couldn’t find a heartbeat. We never knew why. Instead of enjoying a newborn, we found ourselves planning for her funeral and taking down the nursery items.
Less than a year after that, a two-year-old boy in our ward was run over and killed by a service truck in the parking lot where he lived. I visited the family and spoke at his funeral. The mother mentioned he had been unusually cuddly that morning, almost as if he were saying goodbye.
Our ward had experienced the deaths of three young children in just over one year.
About a year after the death of our baby, we moved and I was assigned to minister to a young couple with two children. The older daughter had contracted an infection while in the womb and was born with a severe mental disability. Although she was nine years old at the time, she was like an infant developmentally. It was a struggle for the young family, who had limited means.
One day I received a phone call telling me she had died during the night. No member of the bishopric was available to visit just then, so I was asked to visit until they could get there. I arrived as her body was being removed, and I had a chance to talk with the father. The wife’s ministering sister arrived and did an amazing job comforting the family and taking care of the home.
I went with the father to the funeral home to make the arrangements. I suppose I was able to render some service because of my prior experiences. I don’t consider myself a great ministering brother, but I was glad I wasn’t a stranger in that home.
Many years later, one of our daughters was expecting her first child. She had married later in life and we knew from tests and exams that the child would need corrective surgery at birth. She went into early labor, but his condition apparently placed too much stress on his heart and he died before birth. We knew how she felt, but it was very difficult to see her so heartbroken.
When reflecting on these events, I wrote in my journal that I never expected to have so much to do with the death of children. The experiences, although tragic, helped me feel greater love and compassion for others because I understood what they were going through.
When I ponder what the gospel means to me, I have to say it is about relationships: those we had before, those we form in this life, and those we hope for after this life—the type of relationships and love that would cause an elderly man to mourn the loss of a child he would never know in this life.
Photograph at Oakland California Temple by Christina Smith
I don’t know how the blessings and protection of the temple reach out from the house of the Lord to touch our families, but I believe they do. Heavenly Father strengthens us according to our needs and uses us to help others in their trials. The hope and promise of priesthood ordinances and covenants are provided by a loving Father who knows our trials.

Four years and two more children later, we were again planning to visit my dad, who now lived 13 hours away. By then we had a different van, one that was 14 years old. About a week before leaving, I felt that I needed to replace the van’s spare tire. Remembering my previous experience, I followed the prompting. A couple of days later I felt an impression to buy some ratchet tie-downs to use on some gear we had previously tied with ropes. I needed two but bought a case of four. I put the extra two in our emergency kit.
On the way back from visiting my dad, we stopped to buy dinner. As I was getting some items out of a container on the roof of the van, my three-year-old daughter touched the sliding door. It fell to the ground! We were grateful the door didn’t hit her. We were almost 500 miles (805 km) from home on a Friday evening, so I wrangled the door into place so we could be on our way, but it wasn’t on the track and we could hear the highway as we drove. I pulled over again and used one of the extra tie-down straps to secure the door.
Several hours later the van began to shake violently. A loud banging came from the shaking door, but the strap held it in place. I pulled over and found that one of our tires had lost its belt. I quickly replaced it with the spare tire I had bought a few weeks before, and we were again on our way.