Gospel Story Finder

Travis Hildebrand, 14, of the Etna Ward, Medford Oregon Stake, is one of the fastest milers in his area. He’s so fast, in fact, that in a regional meet sponsored by the Hershey Chocolate Company, he won a position and expenses to compete in a national meet in Hershey, Pennsylvania.

Travis’s parents wanted to support him at the national meet, but Pennsylvania was many miles and dollars away. That’s where a lot of hard family work and some community contributions came in. They were able to make the trip, and they stayed with a generous family in the Hershey area. Travis placed fourth in the meet, which featured some of the best runners in the country.

When Travis isn’t running, he’s studying to maintain his 4.0 GPA, working on becoming an Eagle Scout, and serving in his teachers quorum.

As a mission president I traveled great distances over the state of Texas. (You can drive a long way in the state of Texas!) I used to spend many hours traveling alone, going from one missionary meeting or one set of interviews to another in the automobile that was provided for us. There was a lot of time to think, and many thoughts come in a situation of that kind. I discovered that it was a very helpful thing for me (and later very useful) if I used that time to practice organizing talks that I could give, forming associations of scriptural ideas and principles that would be helpful to me in expressing these relationships to others. Some of the best talks you’ll never hear, I gave to myself as I drove from one place to another in southern Texas. I recommend that process to you. In order to sustain constructive thinking, it’s necessary for us to have something worthwhile to think about, to have in reserve, as it were, some items, some problems, some challenges, to which we can turn our minds, to think our way through to a solution. I’ve discovered in my own life that that’s the best way to obtain inspiration and whatever degree of revelation we are entitled to.

In 1992, just three years after Naume and I were married, we were struggling with the basic necessities of life. A friend?—Jerry D. Hymas from San Diego, California, USA?—taught me a self-reliance principle that has made a difference in our lives, even in times of Zimbabwe’s economic meltdown, which we experienced from 2000 to 2008. Jerry said to me, “Eddie, here is a formula for financial success that has worked for me over the years and has enabled me to retire early. When you receive your paycheck, you (1) pay tithing, ten percent; (2) pay ten percent to yourself; and (3) save ten percent for emergency purposes.” Then he looked at me and said, “Never spend money you do not have.”
Naume and I have always paid our tithing and enjoyed the promised blessings, but we did not know about the other 20 percent he shared with me. Since then, Naume and I tried to the best of our ability to follow this model, and it has blessed us tremendously.
I recommend this to anyone, especially young adults and young couples. Navigating through life may seem daunting, but moving forward with faith and with a vision will help you reach your full potential. One has to have a financial plan. President M. Russell Ballard, Acting President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, promised, “When one learns to master the principles of setting a goal, he will then be able to make a great difference in the results he attains in this life.”1
For purposes of simplicity. here is what I would teach my grandchildren: I would teach them what to do with a dollar. I would teach them that their financial ability depends on what they do with a dollar. From the onset they would need to understand two challenges of life:
The development of their full potential.
The wise use of all their resources.
Most people, including myself, have gone through life saying, “If I had more money, I would have a better plan.” What I failed to grasp is that if I had a better plan, I would have sufficient money. While Jerry Hymas in 1992 taught me the plan of financial prosperity, this plan actually was taught by our loving Father in Heaven, in the Old Testament when He said, “Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth” (Genesis 1:28).
If you have a dollar never spend more than 70 cents. If my grandchildren—wherever they may be, or in any circumstance they may be in—if they could just grasp this principle, never spend more than 70 cents of each dollar which comes their way, through gifts or labor they will prosper. They will understand what the Lord said, “the earth is full, and there is enough and to spare” (D&C 104:17).
These principles will bless all of us: those who are currently employed need to plan for the future as well as those of us who are struggling in life and surviving hand to mouth. This concept would be a great blessing and help in being self-reliant. My suggestions on where to begin would be this:
Ten cents is for the Lord. Pay tithing. President Russell M. Nelson taught: “To develop enduring faith, and enduring commitment to be a full-tithe payer is essential. Initially it takes faith to tithe. Then the tithe payer develops more faith to the point that tithing becomes a precious privilege.”2 This life-changing teaching from the Lord’s prophet is very true.
Ten cents is forcapital. Put it somewhere where you cannot access it or use it. This could be for 10, 15, or more years. When I think of this ten cents, I am reminded of my mother. She would sift through very good ground nuts and maize and put some aside for seeds. She would fumigate—or we were made to believe, so that we would not be tempted to roast that maize and eat those ground nuts when we were hungry. Mother never used the seeds, even in the dire situations. She would rather have us go without than to eat those seeds. They were to be planted in the following rainy season and have them multiply. She would do the same in each harvest. She was never dependent on government handouts.
Ten cents helps to make sure that you would not buy anything in credit—except for a house. When one invests this ten cents, its having someone else use it with an interest to yourself. It’s not the amount that counts, it’s the PLAN!
Do this and watch the numbers change and fulfill your Heavenly Father’s blessing to you, be fruitful! In reality it is not more of what we will get, but what we are becoming. Our forebearers saw what they would become.
During the Great Depression in the United States of America, the Lord’s prophet, seer and revelator declared: “Our primary purpose was to set up, in so far as it might be possible, a system under which the curse of idleness would be done away with, the evils of a dole abolished, and independence, industry, thrift and self-respect be once more established amongst our people. The aim of the Church is to help the people to help themselves. Work is to be re-enthroned as the ruling principle of the lives of our Church membership.”3 This principle has blessed lives inside and outside the Church throughout the world.
My humble invitation to you is to rise and be fruitful.

In addition to temples, surely another holy place on earth ought to be our homes. The feelings of holiness in my home prepared me for feelings of holiness in the temple. Before I went on my first mission to Brazil, my mother lovingly hand made a piece of temple clothing for me to wear when I went to the temple. It is now old and frayed, but it is a special, sacred symbol of Mother’s love for that which is holy.

The duty of home teachers cannot always be satisfied with a once-a-month visit. They need to be caring and willing to serve as the need arises. I know of members of one high priests group who take tools when they go home teaching. We do not expect home teachers to be able to fix everything, such as computers and other highly technical equipment. They can, however, offer their wisdom and experience in assisting their assigned families to find the needed help. Caring home teachers should make appointments in advance, if possible. Aaronic Priesthood home teaching companions can learn lifelong lessons and be greatly blessed by serving with faithful Melchizedek Priesthood senior companions. Brother Robert F. Jex shares his faith-strengthening experience as a junior home teaching companion many years ago:
“My legs felt like gelatin and there was a knot in my stomach as we approached the door. I was sure that I was going to faint as my [home teaching] companion told me that this was my door.
“… I was a 15-year-old home teacher climbing the stairs to the apartment of Sister Rice, a widow living in the Bountiful (Utah) First Ward. Don Gabbott, my companion, was to teach me a great lesson that night about the nurturing role of priesthood bearers to shut-ins who are cut off from the mainstream of Church activity.
“Brother Gabbott had given me a topic to present to the five families assigned us, and I was frightened. … I [had] prepared … some notes on a paper, but I was unsure of how to take the lead in the presence of a high priest.
“The response to our knocking was slow. … I was about to suggest that no one was home. Then the shrunken figure of a frail, aged sister, came around a corner in the hallway. She seemed uncertain of what waited her answer at the door. Her face brightened as she recognized Brother Gabbott. We were invited into her living room and asked to take a seat.
“After a short greeting, Brother Gabbott looked at me as if to say, ‘Okay, Bob, it’s time to give our message.’ The knot in my stomach tightened as I began to speak. I cannot recall what I said—it doesn’t really matter—for I was the pupil in the classroom of priesthood duty and responsibility. As I glanced up from my notes at the conclusion of my remarks, my eyes fell upon the tear-stained cheeks of that sweet, sensitive sister. She expressed her gratitude for the presence of priesthood bearers in her humble home.
“I was speechless. … What had I said that had been so profound? What could I do? Fortunately, Brother Gabbott came to my rescue by bearing his testimony and asking if there were any needs in the home. There were.
“Sister Rice said that she had not been feeling well and asked that she be remembered as we offered our prayer before leaving. She then turned to me and asked if I would offer that prayer. By that time, I was so overcome by the spirit of the occasion … [and] surprised that I was asked to pray when someone older and more experienced and trusted was present. Automatically, I consented and offered a benediction upon that home teaching visit, asking that a special blessing of health and strength be given to that faithful sister whom I barely knew but quickly came to love and respect.
“Twenty-five years have passed since my introduction to home teaching in the home of Sister Rice, and she has long since passed away. But I cannot pass that orange-brick fourplex on Bountiful’s Main Street without thinking about the experience provided by Brother Gabbott and a faithful sister who knew the appropriateness of calling upon the powers of heaven embodied in an obedient high priest and an insecure, frightened teacher in the Aaronic Priesthood.”

Just to illustrate this, one day when President Cowley and I were traveling, we arrived at the home of Brother Stewart Meha, a great and wonderful Maori man. He was in every way a pure patriarch. He had never been ordained a patriarch—he just was one, and he presided over his large family as a true father and leader. President Cowley and Brother Meha spent all afternoon sitting on the porch just talking about the Church and other interesting things. I listened to them part of the time and then visited with the kids and others who lived in this little area near Brother Meha’s home. Incidentally, there were two or three other homes in this little Maori village, but I discovered that most of the people living there belonged to his family. They were his children and his grandchildren.

When it came time for the evening meal, Brother Meha stood on his front porch and, in the Maori language, shouted out to all of his large family, “Haere Mai Ki Te Kai.” Then he said, “Haere Mai Ki Te Karakia.” This simply meant “Come on home for supper” and “Come on home for prayer.” Soon family members came from every direction. We all assembled in his home in the big front room. This room had very little furniture in it, and everybody gathered in a large circle. Brother Meha was at the head of the circle and on his left was President Cowley. I was next to the president. On Brother Meha’s right was a little child about eight years of age. All around the rest of the circle were the other children with some adults in between.

Finally Brother Meha said to the little boy on his right, “You start.” I bowed my head in anticipation of the little boy’s prayer. Instead of praying, he quoted a scripture, after first reciting the chapter and verse. Then the young person next to him gave a scripture with the reference. After about four scriptures had been given, I realized that we were going around the circle with each person quoting a different passage of scripture. One youngster started to quote one that had already been used, and he was quickly corrected. I immediately began to think of a scripture that I could quote when my turn came.

I had been in the mission field just a little over a year and had mastered two wonderful passages of scripture. I mentally polished up my first scripture and had no sooner silently rehearsed it than one of the young people gave that exact scripture. This, of course, slowed me down for a minute, but I thought I was okay because I still had one in reserve. I worked a little on it, only to hear someone directly across from me quote it. I then became panicky as I realized I could not think of another scripture I could give. My turn was coming closer and closer, and I felt tension building up within me. My mind went totally blank.

In my moment of greatest concern, President Cowley nudged me with his elbow and, out of the side of his mouth, said, “Quick—tell me a scripture. I can’t think of a single one to say.” I then realized that the two of us were in the same desperate situation. At that moment it was my turn. I bravely said the first article of faith. President Cowley followed by quoting the second article of faith, and then Brother Meha prayed. I think that night he prayed for the mission president and the missionaries a little more than usual. When the prayer was finished, a little boy about eight years of age came over to us and said, “I guess you two guys don’t know that the Articles of Faith are not allowed in our scripture study.”

Now, brothers and sisters, that was an excellent example to me of family prayer and how children can be taught the scriptures. If we would just gather together and have prayer, it would probably be the finest teaching experience that a mother and father could give to their children.

A father gets home tired after a long day at work and finds the rest of his family struggling with similar grumpy feelings. It’s Monday night, and holding family home evening seems impossible. After saying a prayer for help, the father and mother decide to keep things simple. They call their family together, sing a hymn, and pray together. They give each member a small candle to light as they tell about something that inspired them recently. In a darkened room, the light of the candles represents inspiration and focuses the children’s attention. As testimonies are shared, a feeling of sweet peace and love enters the home. The family ends the night grateful they held home evening.

Fifteen years ago I stood for the first time at the pulpit in the Tabernacle as a newly sustained Seventy. I was 48 years old. I had thick, dark brown hair. I thought I understood what it meant to feel inadequate. At the end of my five-minute remarks, my shirt was dripping with perspiration. The whole thing was something of an ordeal. However, today, in retrospect, it seems a comparatively pleasant experience.

That little voice in my head was getting hard to ignore. Here I was at age 28, still single and not really sure of what I wanted to do professionally even though I had a good career as a labor and delivery nurse. I felt like every aspect of my life wasn’t working out. I was doubting life choices and didn’t know which path to take. I just felt lost.
One day when I was feeling particularly down, a friend whom I hadn’t talked to in a while called me. When he asked how I was doing, I explained all those feelings I had been struggling with. He listened and then said, “OK, but how are you doing spiritually?”
“Oh yeah, that’s perfect,” I responded automatically. “I’ve never felt closer to God in my life.”
He replied, “Then you don’t have to worry about anything else.”
Since the conversation, I realized two things. First, I realized that I am so grateful to have a strong testimony of the restored gospel and to be able to live the commandments and feel connected with heaven.
Being spiritually self-reliant is so important to me, and I’m still learning how to open the heavens in my life. Praying and studying the scriptures every morning are two simple things that I feel make the biggest difference in my ability to receive personal revelation. I also feel more connected with heaven when I make an effort to be kind, to live a healthy life so the Spirit can always be my companion, to obey the commandments, and to repent sincerely.
Second, I realized that my response to my friend’s question wasn’t totally right—I thought I was doing “perfect” spiritually, but I needed to have more faith, stop worrying so much, and trust God to take care of the things I can’t control.
Even when some aspects of my life aren’t going as well as I would like, I know that the important thing is to act in faith and show God that I use my agency to make good choices. I’ve learned that when life doesn’t work out the way I expect it to, it’s so that I can learn and grow in ways I wouldn’t be able to otherwise.
I never imagined that in my 29th year I would find myself having doubts about my career and the next stage of my life. Still, even with all these unknowns, I have total confidence that God has a perfect plan for me. He knows exactly what’s happening and what I need, and He will always take care of me (see Matthew 6:28–34). Just as Elder L. Todd Budge of the Seventy taught, “As difficult as it is to understand, especially at the times in our lives when the headwinds are strong and the seas are turbulent, we can take comfort in knowing that God in His infinite goodness is always blowing us toward home” (“Consistent and Resilient Trust,” Liahona, Nov. 2019, 48).
Some days life feels just so difficult, but when I really think about it, I know that I don’t have to worry. Little by little, I have come to realize that I need to trust God a little more and worry less about things I can’t control. The one thing I can control about the future is trusting God and working on growing closer to Him every day.
When I feel lost, there is always enough light for me to take a step into the unknown and move forward. And as long as I exercise faith and keep my covenants, as long as I remember my true identity as a daughter of Heavenly Parents and try over and over again, things will happen when and how they’re supposed to, and that’s really all that matters.

The workshop couldn’t have been busier if it belonged to Santa’s elves. From one end to the other, workers were unloading trucks, repairing sleds and furniture, sorting buttons for clothing, sewing, and even stacking skis.
But these weren’t elves at work. They were young men and women from the Ogden Utah Weber Stake. And the workshop wasn’t at the North Pole. It was at the Deseret Industries welfare complex in Ogden, where the youth of the stake converged one Saturday to help the regular employees beat the Christmas rush.
It was part of a month-long program to get the youth acquainted with the elderly and handicapped who form the main part of the labor force at the facility, which repairs and sells used furniture and clothing. It was also part of an effort to help those employees have a merry Christmas. In addition to the day spent working in the warehouse and production areas, the young people also presented a week’s worth of morning devotionals, put in another Saturday collecting reusable items, and just a few days before Christmas, sponsored a party for employees.
“The whole idea was to get in the Christmas spirit,” Paula Watkins of the Uintah Second Ward said. “When you do something for other people, it makes you feel that you’re giving of yourself.”
The following Saturday, however, is when real friendships and close relationships began to grow.
“We have about 30 handicapped workers under the direction of each supervisor, but they don’t all work on the same shift,” Sister Petersen explained. “Handicaps include age, physical impairments, and social and emotional maladjustments. This group of young people moved right in and helped everyone who was there on Saturday. It didn’t take much instruction before they were doing high-quality work.”
It was indeed a sight to see a deacon working side-by-side on a commercial steam press with a woman who could have been his grandmother, but who joked and chatted with him like a schoolmate, or to watch a squadron of young men descend on a carpentry shop and learn under careful tutelage some fine points of cabinet making. Other work assignments included sorting clothing, polishing shoes, shredding rags to make rugs, pricing items for sale and affixing tags, ironing, and a variety of other tasks.
“But,” as Shelley Johnson of the Uintah Second Ward stressed, “the most important thing isn’t what type of work we did. It’s that we were able to help other people.”
About 325 young people participated in the project. They worked in two shifts, one in the morning, one in the afternoon. Each person was given the name of an employee to become acquainted with. Some were then given tasks to perform on their own, others were assigned to work under the direction of an employee, and others worked with supervisors.
“It was something different, something I’ll remember for a long time,” said Nan Brian of the Uintah First Ward. One of the supervisors said Mark Stockset of the Uintah Second Ward was a “real whiz on the steam machine.” Mark laughed. “I’ve never worked with one before,” he said, “but I’m kind of used to it now.”
“I think this whole Deseret Industries idea is a good thing,” said Janean Dickson of the Uintah Second Ward. “It helps people take care of themselves. It teaches the value of work and makes you count your blessings.
“I was especially interested to see the quality of merchandise they sell. The clothing isn’t worn out and run down; it’s nice. They have things for sale I’d be glad to wear.”
“Next time I give things to D.I., I’ll be more aware of what they can use,” said Lisa Fowles of the South Weber Second Ward, “so I’ll make a more meaningful donation.”
Over in the furniture repair shop, three young women from the stake removed nails from furniture being prepared for reupholstery.
“Did you think you’d be doing this kind of work today?” they were asked. “No,” came the reply, “but it’s fun to be able to work firsthand with tools. I don’t usually get a chance to do that, and the exposure will help me.”
“The people who work here have been really friendly to us,” David Jensen of the South Weber Second Ward said. “They seem like they’re glad to have us here.” Laurie Glissman, of the same ward, added, “It helps you when you work along with people; you come to understand them and the way they are. And it sure put me in the Christmas spirit to realize how fortunate I am. I think this welfare program is a good way to help those in need, because they can work and maintain their dignity.”
“Those who have never had a chance to get close to the handicapped don’t understand them.” Gladys Huber, another supervisor, said. “It’s good to see these young folks come out and get to know their brothers and sisters.”
“The workers were a bit wary about it at first,” Sister Petersen added. “But when the young people got here and started working with them, they were delighted. It’s been a perfect show of brotherly love.”
The employees did in fact seem impressed by the youthful volunteers. “They learn pretty fast, and work hard,” Rell Smith said. “It’s good to have them here. We’d like more groups to come. Just let us know when.”

Some time ago, I met with a husband and wife having severe marital problems. When they came in for counseling, the wife described their problems in detail, but the husband said nothing. I tried to get him to talk, but he was sullen and answered every question with only one or two words. His wife always jumped in to give more complete answers.
Finally, I invited her to leave the room, then spoke with him alone. At first, he said very little. But when he found that I gave him time to formulate his answers and that I didn’t interrupt, criticize, or judge him, he began to speak freely.
From that point on, I said little. As the interview came to an end, he seemed relieved. With real feeling he said, “Thanks for listening to me. I have wanted to tell my wife these things for years, but she never wants to hear what I have to say.”
The man had a difficult time formulating and expressing his thoughts, but he showed deep feeling. And he was clearly relieved to finally be able to put those feelings into words. Fortunately, this couple was able to rediscover that they loved each other dearly. Both wanted to build a strong, supportive marriage, and both wanted to do their part.
The husband in our opening example clearly needed someone to listen to him, not someone with whom to discuss his problem. When a person is frustrated by not being heard, the remedy is for someone to listen, not to talk.

Martha Isgett of Chapel Hill, North Carolina, volunteered to help in the classroom of each of her eight children. As she helped with classroom projects, she noticed that some of the children had difficulty finishing their work. Others were not used to cleaning up their projects. Martha could see that she could help these children by teaching them to work.
“I had done this at home with my six boys and two girls,” Martha said. “They all had required chores and knew we would have a schedule of work for them. When they finished they had rewards, but they weren’t allowed to play until their duties were complete. Now my children are older and are having more expected of them in school, in jobs, and on missions, because they have learned to be responsible at home.”
Martha served in the parent-teacher organizations in her school, in her county, and in the state. She has been able to share her ideas about how parents can help children succeed. Now, she works as a substitute teacher, where she continues to help children form good habits. “I want the children to come to school prepared and to take pride in their work. I know that parents at home can help by taking interest in their children’s assignments and encouraging home and school projects to be completed.”

Every year, my husband and I and both our extended families go on a camping trip to celebrate the end-of-year holiday season. We choose a site that can accommodate our numbers and then camp from Christmas Eve until just after New Year’s Day.
These camps are a wonderful time for us to strengthen our family bonds. Because most of us are members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, these camps also strengthen our testimony of Christ and of His Church as we celebrate His birth.
At the end of 2020, we found a site in Bikenibeu Village, Tarawa, which has a large mwaneaba (a traditional meetinghouse) that our whole family could sleep under. As always, my dear sister-in-law, Meteta, joined us in the camping festivities.
Meteta lived with my husband and me and, at 71 years old, she was more like a mother to us. She was still quite healthy and active, except that she walked on crutches as a result of a surgery she had 20 years earlier. Meteta loved our Christmas camping trips and eagerly participated in our family games and activities.
On the 31st of December, a few hours before our New Year’s celebration, Meteta was so excited. She took an early shower, got dressed and then sat down in the mwaneaba, ready to enjoy the night. Everyone else was rushing around, getting ready, too.
Then, in the midst of all the preparations, Meteta quietly said to me, “I have a burning pain in my chest.” I dropped everything I was doing, called my husband and another sister-in-law over, and soon several of us were trying to help her.
It all happened so fast. About fifteen minutes later, Meteta started to gasp for air. My husband and son gave her a priesthood blessing while we waited for the ambulance. Sadly, the doctors couldn’t do much more for her. Soon after we arrived at the hospital, our Meteta was gone.
That evening, the world stopped for us. As we slowly made our way back to the campsite—to share the tragic news and inform everyone that we had to break camp—my husband and I reflected on Meteta’s final moments. The doctors had done their best to revive her, and those around us tried to give us hope, but we felt a strange kind of peace that told us it was Meteta’s time to go.
Our faith in Jesus Christ and our testimony of His gospel also helped the rest of our family accept what happened. We had just spent a week in both worldly and spiritual celebration, but as our holiday camp transitioned into a funeral, we tuned the world out completely.
We mourned the loss of our dear Meteta—she had been a great source of stability in our home, and we would have to make many adjustments without her—but in the wake of her passing, we talked more about the meaning of our own lives.
We focused on our Saviour and on His divine gift of exaltation. We expressed deep gratitude for His atoning sacrifice and His victory over the grave. It was a time of spiritual renewal for all of us. As we worked together to organise and prepare for Meteta’s earthly farewell, our thoughts were on Heavenly Father’s plan of salvation, and on His Son, who has made it possible for us to reunite with Meteta again, one day.
Our family holiday camps are always boisterous events, full of music and dance, talent shows, laughter and fun, but this particular Christmas, the happiness of our festivities seemed to dim in the light of true joy—the joy that our Saviour Jesus Christ brought when He was born into this world to give us life.
Our understanding of His gospel is what brought our family peace after Meteta’s passing. It helped us to remember the real meaning of Christmas.

When I first entered Young Women, I felt alone because I had left my friends in the Valiant class. However, I tried to support the young women, and they also supported me, and I was able to make new friends and interact with them. I no longer felt alone, and that made me happy. Now I am the president of the Beehives, and if I see a new sister who feels uncomfortable being with us, I talk with her, explain what we do in class, and make her feel that she is part of us.
Gredy G., 14, Lima, Peru

When we first started having family home evening, I thought it was boring and tiring. My father is not a member of the Church. As the oldest child in our family, I would listen to what my mother taught us, but I did not fully participate. Then I attended some of my friends’ family home evenings, and I saw the way they interacted, talked, and played games together—even if their father was not a member.
I decided to put more zeal and determination into family home evening. Whenever I am assigned to teach, I make sure I study the lesson well and plan activities for us to do together. For the past few months, it has been a success. The Lord has been blessing our family, and we all look forward to another Monday for a beautiful and lovely family home evening.

I have a friend who was blessed with a beautiful family and a promising career. This changed when an illness left him unable to work, which was followed by a divorce. The years since have been difficult, but his love for his children and the covenants he has made with God have sustained him. One day he learned that his former spouse had remarried and had requested a cancellation of their temple sealing. He was troubled and confused. He sought peace and understanding in the house of the Lord. The day after his visit, I received the following message from him:
“I had an amazing experience in the temple last night. I think it was obvious that I still held quite a bit of resentment. … I knew that I must change, and I have been praying all week to do so. … Last night in the temple I literally felt the Spirit remove the resentment from my heart. … It was such a relief to be freed from it. … An ominous physical burden bearing down on me has been lifted.”
While he still has his challenges, my friend treasures that experience in the house of the Lord, where the liberating power of the love of God has helped him to feel closer to God, more optimistic about life, and less anxious about his future.

A week passed and he had been able to keep his secret. But now he was in the Lutheran church, last on a bench, seated with others his age. His mother and father were also there, sitting on the front row in the middle of the church, a place of honor reserved for parents on confirmation day. At 14, members of the Lutheran Church are considered ready for full membership. On confirmation day they appear before a congregation and answer questions on the Lutheran catechism asked by the pastor.
The new tunic Christian was wearing, as bright and clean as new snow, felt rough on his skin. His mother had given it to him that morning. There was tightness in his stomach; his heart was pulsing hard and strong, and his tongue was dry and rough in his mouth. Christian knew he couldn’t lie about his beliefs; he had to tell the truth.
At last it was his turn. He stood up from the bench and walked toward the pastor. His father was smiling with pride. Christian’s legs felt weak and his mind clouded with confusion. The church was full, and he felt everyone’s eyes upon him.
The pastor’s voice, high and loud, echoed in the church.
“Do you believe in God?” it chanted.
“Yes,” Christian’s voice was small. He whispered a prayer.
“Can you describe God?” The voice asked.
There was a vast silence in the great building. Christian felt as if the world were watching and listening. Then, a clearness and strength came into him from some unseen deep well. His voice was strong and clear.
“God is not a being without body, parts, or passions; and he does not sit on the top of a topless throne. God is a good, kind, Heavenly Father, who hears and answers prayers, and man is made in the image of God.”
For the first time in the service the pastor looked up, his eyes wide and questioning. Christian turned and looked at his father. He saw a face that was stone hard.
The pastor continued the questioning, and Christian answered according to his new beliefs.
The pastor finished the chanted catechism questions, looked solemnly at Christian, and in a hiss of voice said, “You answer as if you were a Mormon.”
“And if I do, I’m proud of it,” Christian replied.
Christian’s father, Hans Monson, stood, his face red and his eyes fierce under heavy brows. He glared angrily at Christian, slammed the tip of his oak cane heavily against the wood floor, turned, and walked from the building, his cane cracking loudly with each step.
That night Christian received the beating from his father that he had expected for days. After that, with the help of his mother, he was able to avoid his father for several days. Then one evening while he was bringing wood into the house and stacking it near the fireplace, his father came into the room.
Christian felt his heart race and blood flush his cheeks. There was a moment of terrible silence. Hans Monson, a thick-chested man, a woodcutter by trade, suddenly struck at the boy with his cane. Christian avoided most of the blows that followed, but whenever the cane reached him, it caused a painful welt on his flesh.
Out of breath Hans Monson stopped, his muscles tense and his blonde hair wet with perspiration. Christian, feeling faint, stood. His face was pale.
“Father, I know it’s wrong for me to disobey you. I’m sorry for that, but I’m not sorry for what I did. I know it was right, and I’m not afraid to be beaten for the gospel, for truth.”
Breathing heavily Hans grabbed a large piece of wood from the fireplace stack and threw it. He threw wood at Christian until the stack was gone; then he opened the door and told Christian to get out.
“There’s no room here for a Mormon devil,” he shouted as Christian left. The door slammed. That was the last Christian would see of his father.
The night air was biting cold. Christian felt weak, overpowered by pain, confusion, and a terrible sense of loss. He still felt love and respect for his father. He staggered to the barn and fell on a pile of oat straw.
Later in the night Christian felt a soft hand touch his shoulder. His mother sat next to him on the straw.
“Why? Why did you have to do it, Christian?” she asked. Her voice was full of tears.
“I studied it, and I prayed about it. I know it’s true,” he answered, feeling strength in his own words. “I tried to tell you, but you wouldn’t listen. I cannot deny what I know to be true. It would be like denying Christ, our Savior. I could never do that, no matter how much it hurt.”
In the cold, musty darkness of the barn, they talked until the pearl-gray light of dawn came. Christian felt the warmth of a bond between him and his mother tighten stronger than it had ever been; it grew into something he would remember all of his life, a memory that would warm him and give him strength. In the gray, sullen light he saw a bright tear roll down her face. She held him tight and warm knowing she would never see her son again, at least not in this life.

I smile a little bit when I hear that now, because there is a fellow about my age that works up at the Church office near me, and he is trying to keep himself physically as well as spiritually fit. So every day he slips over to the Deseret Gym and the other day while he was working out by playing handball—and he is a very vigorous competitor—he reached for a ball that bounced out of the court, trying so hard to recover it that he snapped a hamstring muscle in his right leg. You know that that smarts a little bit.

Grabbing his leg, he hobbled back to the dressing room, showered, and then limped back to Church headquarters in excruciating pain. An elevator arrived, and who but President Kimball should get off? Seeing my friend nursing his limpy leg, he asked, “What’s the matter?”
My friend is kind of quick on the draw, and he replied, “President, I just snapped my hamstring muscle trying to lengthen my stride.” There is a lot to that.

When Lynn Parsons was called as the disability specialist in the Hurst Texas Stake, she wanted to fulfill her calling in a way that would bless the lives of members of her stake, especially members with disabilities and their families.
One of the first things Lynn did was to review information on her calling at LDS.org (lds.org/callings/disability-specialist), and she used Handbook 2: Administering the Church to understand official Church policies regarding those with disabilities. The Disability Resources website (lds.org/disability) also served as a resource. It helped her understand various disabilities and served as a resource to share with members of her stake.
Handbook 2 states, “The bishopric or stake presidency may call a ward or stake disability specialist to help individuals and families.”1 LDS.org gives further information about this calling, explaining that “the role of the disability specialist is to help facilitate increased participation and inclusion of Church members with disabilities.”2
With this understanding, Lynn says she wanted to “help leaders fulfill their callings by finding the tools they needed to serve those with disabilities.”
Lynn also found information through community and national resources, the Internet, and ward and stake members who have a background working with people with disabilities. Lynn uses these resources as she looks for solutions to some of the challenges leaders and families face in her stake. She doesn’t always know where to turn for information or help, “but if you really seek the answer through prayer,” she says, “you will be inspired where to look to find your answer.”
Lynn also works to understand the disability-related needs of leaders in her area. To do this, she asked her stake leaders to send a letter to bishops informing them of her calling and that she was available to help. She also met with the stake Primary presidency to understand challenges, and she made plans to meet with other groups of leaders. “I wanted to get the word out,” she said. “I wanted people to know where they could find some help.”
By letting members of the stake know she was ready to serve, Lynn soon found opportunities to help leaders. Within the first few months of being called as the disability specialist, she was invited to meet with a ward council to talk about characteristics of a specific disability. She served in other ways, such as helping a teacher understand how to teach a child with autism and suggesting that an assistant Primary teacher be called so a child with a disability could attend class.
Moving forward, Lynn plans to help leaders fulfill their callings. As she does this, she is helping members of her stake follow the example of the Savior in loving and reaching out to others, including those with disabilities.

Actually, the musical tradition started with Sally’s mother. As a little girl her mother lived in a rural area in Idaho, and she sold milk to earn money for piano lessons. She also managed to earn enough money to buy her first piano. Knowing that her mother had made sacrifices in her life to play the piano, Sally grew to love music as well, and she has passed this love of music on to her own children.
This is why Lindsey can claim a standing ovation not only from a New York audience in Carnegie Hall but also from the Young Women and Young Men in her ward after she performed for an etiquette night activity. To the Brintons, it doesn’t matter how big or small the venue is as long as they can share their talents with others—another tradition passed down from Sally’s mother, who was ward organist for 30 years and never turned down an invitation to perform, including for the ward Christmas party.