Gospel Story Finder

Elders Upshaw and Jean Louis introduced the gospel to my family in 2007 when I was only 6. Challenges in our life continued but the special feelings of truth and eternal happiness for our family kept us faithful. My mom’s desire for me to serve a mission held a lot of power even when the worldly interests called me in a different direction, I felt the strength to finally hear the Spirit and follow the Savior. This mission has been a growing experience, and I am thankful for all those that got me here.

During the time I was preparing to receive my mission call, I had the opportunity to attend a devotional where Elder David A. Bednar of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles spoke to a group of youth and young single adults. I had no idea that he’d be coming, and when I saw him, I couldn’t wait to hear what he had to say. He said he wanted to have a question-and-answer session. And when he asked for questions, I jumped at the opportunity.

“What is the most important thing I can do to prepare to be an effective missionary?” I asked.

He looked right at me and said, “Get over yourself.” At first I was taken aback. I had to think twice to make sure I hadn’t said something wrong, thinking maybe I was being scolded a little.

But then he explained that serving a mission is not about me; instead, it’s about serving the Lord and completely losing myself in that service. This advice completely changed my missionary preparation and my outlook on missionary service.

At times we learn obedience through trial and error. When our son Justin was fourteen he wanted a horse. He and his father found ads in the newspaper for wild mustangs that had been rounded up from the plains of Nevada. Not being professional horseman, we knew a little about the character of these wild horses and that they were beautiful and fiercely independent. It was decided that Justin and his father would go to the auction and buy a mustang for one hundred dollars. I will never forget when they pulled up with the mustang in the horse trailer. It sounded like a bomb had exploded inside the trailer.

I took in a deep breath and saw my son's life flash before my eyes. However with a great deal of study, reading, and tremendous patience, slowly but surely, our son was able to get in the corral with the horse. With more time he was able to approach the horse, put a bridle in its mouth and get a saddle on its back. It was several months before anyone could get on its back. Our whole family spent many a day at the corral to watch the training of the mustang.

Our youngest son who was about eight at the time was particularly fascinated with the horse, but had received strict instructions to stay away from the mustang. Justin, the son training the horse, had also been given strict instructions to keep his little brother out of the coral and away from the horse.

A sequence of events happened so that eventually our older son put his little brother on the back of the mustang. The horse not being quite ready to carry a eight year old rider bucked him off throwing Jared to the ground where he hit his head on a rock. Justin's immediate instructions to Jared was, "Don't tell mom or else."

At this moment I was heading for the corral. As I walked up to Jared and Justin each had that smirky, guilt-looking smile upon their faces. Using a mother's intuition, I knew something was very wrong. As I looked sidewise at our eight year old, I could see something dripping from the back of Jared's head. I walked a little closer as Justin put his hands on Jared's shoulders and turned him slightly so I could not see his head. Panic overtook me as I walked around the back of Jared and saw the gash on the back of his head dripping fresh blood. And so both sons learned obedience through error. And for me, I learned patience through my children.

Finally, may I tell you of a nine-year-old Spanish-American girl I interviewed one evening in Texas for baptism. I asked her if she knew who Jesus was. Her answer was, “Yes.” “Who is He?” I asked. Sweeping her hand over her head and gesturing at everything in sight, she said, “He owns all of this!” Could any nine-year-old, or perhaps any of us, have summed it up any better? In only five words she had described the Savior with simple clarity: “He owns all of this!” When the interview was over, she told her mother she did not want to leave the chapel but wanted to stay and sleep that night in “Jesus’ house.” “And this is life eternal, that they might know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent.”

“It is a dream come true,” says 18-year-old Gunday Solomon Israel, who goes by his last name. “The design of the chapel itself makes me feel the Spirit. I am grateful to my Father in Heaven for answering my prayers.”
With the completion of the chapel, Church members and investigators in Hyderabad will have a beautiful building in which to meet and feel the language of the Spirit touching their hearts, just as it did Israel’s three years ago.
“When I first came to church, I was surprised to see the love among the Saints. They were so happy. I could see the glow of the gospel in their faces,” recalls Israel.
Like Israel, 17-year-old Madhu Bunga remembers the first time he attended a Church meeting and felt the Spirit.
“I was glad to see so many strangers come and sit beside me and talk to me about my life,” says Madhu, who attended his first Church meeting in December 2000. “I was amazed how people taught and approached things by the Spirit of God. I loved it, and I ran to my house, thinking all the world was in my hands.”
Madhu and other young members of the Church keep the Spirit in their lives by attending church and seminary and participating in service projects in the community.
“I am the only member of the Church in my family,” says Madhu. “To stay strong, I attend seminary regularly. We have done many service projects, like going to a charity to teach children English, fun stories, and games. I went with the young men and women to a government hospital to paint the walls, and we helped Church members when they moved.”
Joseph Cornelius, president of the Hyderabad First Branch, also recognizes the importance of service and attending Church meetings to feel the Spirit.
“Members have service projects like collecting clothes for the orphanage once a year,” says President Cornelius. “We attend all the Church meetings an dactivities. WE have family prayer and family home evening.”
Recently members from the Hyderabad First and Second Branches collected old clothing and bought rice and cereal to give to a boys’ shelter. The people who run the shelter go to a train station in the area, find boys who are living there, and bring them back so they have a place to sleep. Schooling and counseling are also provided at the shelter.
When Church members arrived at the shelter, they were warmly greeted. After much visiting and an exchange of games and laughter, members sanded down the walls of the shelter, which were in dire need of repair. Paint was donated and applied, giving the shelter a clean, cheery appearance.
Whether it is at the service projects or in friendly gospel discussions, the Spirit continues to whisper the gospel to many in Hyderabad. Though soft, the language of the Spirit is clear, uniting Saints across one of the most populous countries in the world.

Many years later, Florence visited a small branch in the Ghana Accra Mission. Her husband, Christopher Chukwurah, was the mission president there. Florence met some children in the branch who couldn’t always go to school. They weren’t sure what to do with their futures. They reminded Florence of herself as a child. What can I say to help them? Florence prayed silently.
Then she felt a clear prompting. Tell them about your life.
Florence thought about her life. She had worked in hospitals in Nigeria and the United States. She had married a good man, and together they had found The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. She had become a mother. Now she was helping missionaries stay healthy and work hard. Heavenly Father had helped her become a nurse. He had helped her do so much more than she had imagined was possible. He could do the same for these children.
Florence looked at the children and smiled. “You know those white caps that nurses wear? I saw a cap like that and decided to become a nurse …”
Florence Chukwurah (born 1946) has worked as a nurse in Nigeria and the United States. She and her husband joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and served together in the Ghana Accra Mission. While talking about getting an education, Florence said, “I decided to be serious with my schoolwork. I made up my mind to work hard.”

Tommy jumped out of bed and ran over to his hat tree. He did this each morning as soon as he woke up. What shall I be today? he wondered. A fireman? No, I was that yesterday. A baseball player? No, I was that Monday. Maybe a cowboy? Yes! That’s what I’ll be today. He reached up, took his cowboy hat off its peg, and put it on as he started down the hall to see what his mom was fixing for breakfast.
“Well, Tommy, I see that you’re a cowboy this morning,” said his mom as Tommy hurried into the kitchen and sat down in his chair.
“I’m not Tommy. I’m Cowboy Billy, and I’ve come to see what kind of grub you have for a hungry cowpoke.”
“Well, pardner, I’ve rustled you up some eggs and bacon and a glass of milk,” Mom said as she set his food down on the table.
“Well, Ma’am, that sounds pretty good,” said Tommy before blessing his breakfast and starting to eat. As soon as he was finished, he hurried off to get dressed.
Back in his room Tommy started looking for his chaps and his furry vest. He knew that before the day was over he would probably have to chase some rustlers and maybe a bank robber or two, so he opened his closet and pulled out his stick horse, Sam. Once he was dressed, he hopped onto his horse, galloped down the hall, and went outside. Tommy spent all morning playing in the backyard, and by lunchtime he was a pretty tired little cowboy. He rode Sam into the kitchen and put him by the door.
“Ma’am, do you have some oats for my horse?” asked Tommy. “He’s had a long morning chasing rustlers, and he’s pretty hungry.”
“Well, pardner, let’s see what I have,” Mom said. She held a bag up to Sam’s mouth.
Tommy could barely keep his eyes open as he ate his lunch.
“Well, pardner, don’t you think you should mosey on down to the bunkhouse and rest for a while?” suggested his mom. “I’ll wake you if you’re needed to chase any rustlers or bank robbers.”
Tommy slowly got up and headed down the hall to take a nap. Later, when he woke up, he jumped up and ran down the hall to the kitchen, shouting, “Got to go, Ma’am. There’s a bunch of robbers at the bank!” He jumped onto his horse and headed for the backyard again.
That night when Tommy got ready for bed, he put Sam to rest on his pillow, put his chaps and vest back in the closet, and put his hat back on his hat tree. Then he hopped into bed.
As Mom kissed Tommy good night and turned out the light, he was wondering which hat he’d choose the next day. Maybe I’ll be a fireman or a spaceman. Or maybe I’ll just be Tommy.

Bryon Sorenson, now serving in the Oregon Mission, draws on his Playmill experience by asking people if he can come in and play their piano. Once inside, he plays LDS hymns and introduces the Church. Bryon baptized a talented young man named Randy Davenport who acted at the Playmill last summer. “I decided,” Randy says, “that if the Playmill could do for me what it did for Bryon, I wanted some of it.”

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

I mentioned that my Dad had a 5th grade education. I also mentioned that my siblings and I were teased a lot in school because we were Mormons. So my Dad and Mom would encourage us kids to do well in school. To my parents, this would be another way for us Mormons to preach the gospel and to show that Mormons are really smart and hopefully it will lessen the teasing or completely stop it. So no pressure there for me and my brother, but we did just that. In those days in elementary school in Fitiuta, they have what we called “Lau Togi” or calling of final grades, where all of our parents would come to school at the end of the school year and the principal would call out loud the top 3 students of each class. It was a big deal.

Parents would anxiously wait for their kids names to be called. I’m happy to say that I was always first place in the top 3 kids of my class and I even skipped grade and moved up to my brother’s class and we graduated together in 1973 from Kahuku High School. Not bad yeah. I’m not sharing this with you to boast about me, well maybe I am, but it’s okay. It was a long time ago. I’m old now. My parents were right about us doing well in school. We earned the respect from the principal and the teachers and even the kids of the village. They became our friends and the teasing stopped. We were known to be the smart Mormon kids. I have wonderful memories of my parents growing up and how much love they have for us and they would do anything to make sure we succeed even in hard times.

As a 16-year-old priest, I was just beginning a part-time job as a radio announcer at a local station. After I offered a prayer at the sacrament table in our ward, a girl who was present told me I sounded like I was reading a commercial. Can you imagine the shame I felt? After 50 years that rebuke still stings. Brethren, remember the significance of those sacred prayers. You are praying as a servant of the Lord in behalf of the entire congregation.

For units where face-to-face meetings are allowed but not yet advisable for Primary-age children, President Rizaldito and Sister Josette Castro of Davao 1st Ward, Davao Stake advise parents to find ways to help keep their young ones focused on Sunday as the Lord’s day. “We have our two younger children watch Church videos for children while they wait for online Primary,” says President Castro, who serves as stake president. “We also teach them reverence for the Lord by having them wear Sunday best clothes,” he adds.
Sister Castro also has her two boys Boyd, 11, and Kiel, 6, make the most out of Primary online resources such as the Activity Pages and the Children’s Guidebook, which are both available online (www.churchofjesuschrist.org) and in the Church’s Gospel Library app. “We also adjusted our family home evening schedule to Sunday night so that the whole family can focus on the gospel more on the sabbath,” she reveals.

While serving as a mission president in Ghana, Elder Robert C. Gay received an impression one day to stop and help a crying boy. Initially, he ignored that impression but later sent a Church member to find and bring the boy to him.
Elder Gay, sustained a member of the Presidency of the Seventy on March 31, 2018, learned that the boy sold dried fish for his caretaker. That day the boy had lost his earnings through a hole in his pocket.
“If he returned without the money, he would be called a liar, most likely beaten, and then cast out onto the street,” Elder Gay said. “We calmed his fear, replaced his loss, and took him home to his caretaker.”
As he explained in the October 2012 general conference, that experience taught Elder Gay two great truths: “First, I knew as never before that God is mindful of each of us and will never forsake us; and second, I knew that we must always hearken to the voice of the Spirit within us and go ‘straightway’ wherever it takes us, regardless of our fears or any inconvenience.”

Fleur remembers the first time she played the organ in sacrament meeting. She had played the piano in Primary, but when the ward organist was called to be the bishop, he encouraged her to play the organ. He asked her to play the closing hymn one sacrament meeting. Fleur was nervous.

When it was time for the hymn, she went to the organ, and the bishop sat beside her to work the pedals for her. From that day on, Fleur served as the ward organist, from age 10 to 14.

She says, “It was scary sitting up on the stand with people staring at me.” Her willingness to serve, however, brought a blessing: “After a while I got better at sight-reading the hymns. I could just go in and play them.”

Orderville, Utah—One December evening some of the sisters of Orderville met to plan a Christmas treat for the children. The Order had no luxuries and the necessities were strictly rationed. About the only sweets the people had was molasses, so, the sisters decided to make molasses candy and cookies for the youngsters.
But on Christmas Eve, they came to “Grandmother Spencer,” wife of Howard Orson Spencer, bishop and leader in Orderville, with the news that the brother in charge of the molasses “won’t let us have any. He says our allowance for the month is already used.” Grandmother’s lips tightened. “The children are going to have something for Christmas. I’ll speak to my husband after dinner—he’ll give us permission.”
When her husband came in tired and hungry, Sister Spencer hovered over her husband and after dinner urged him to rest by the fire. As he sat looking drowsily into the flames, she said in a low voice, “You do think the children should have some candy and cookies for Christmas, don’t you Howard?” “Ummmhmmm,” was the sleepy response, and grandmother went away smiling. She reported to the ladies that everything was all right, “My husband has given us permission.” “Did he say we could have the molasses?” asked one doubting Thomas. “He didn’t say ‘No,’” replied Sister Spencer truthfully. “Now we won’t wake up the brother in charge of the molasses. We’ll just slip out and take what we need.”
The man in charge of the molasses barrel was very conscious of his responsibility. On the lid of the barrel he had placed a section of heavy logging chain and a large boulder. Only a thin wooden partition at the head of the bed separated him from the barrel outside, and he was a light sleeper. Shivering from the cold the women crunched through the snow toward the barrel. It was beginning to snow again and the night was very dark.
With infinite caution they removed the heavy chain without so much as one betraying clank. It took the combined efforts of all the women to lower the boulder noiselessly to the ground. There was a breathless pause as Sister Spencer raised the lid and dipped into the barrel with a saucepan. She emptied its contents into a bucket and dipped again, and again. “We have enough now,” whispered one of the women. “Let’s go back.” With the same caution the chain and boulder were replaced and the women filed back to the warm kitchen to make the Christmas goodies. But, there was a dismayed gasp when they looked into the pail. “Oh dear, we haven’t enough molasses. We’ll have to get some more.” “Oh no, Sister Spencer. It’s cold and dark. It’s too risky.” “Well, just the same, we must unless we want the children to be disappointed.”
There could only be one answer to such a statement and the little band of mothers went again to the molasses barrel. They returned safely and set to work. When morning came, every child in Orderville had two molasses cookies and one big slightly sticky lump of candy in his stocking. Santa Claus had not forgotten them. Grandfather insisted all his life that he could not remember ever having given the women permission to get the molasses.
Our Pioneer Heritage, 18 (1975): 160–61

Let me share with you some examples of taking responsibility.
Many of us have a special hero. His name is Chuck Anderson. Brother Anderson died fourteen months ago. He had an extremely rare disease, epidermalosis belosa. When he was young, whenever his skin was touched, it would hemorrhage. After a time the injury would scab over. Cotton would partially protect his hands, feet, and other areas of his body, but not well enough to avoid the pain and scabbing. His skin became a form of inflexible tissue. He could not touch his scalp, so combing his hair was very difficult. He lived to be twenty-six years old, but never during those 312 months did he have a day free of pain, scabs, and bandages, or a day that he could run and play as others.
But he decided to be positive and as productive as he could be. He had a wonderful sense of humor. His example of courage and being as self-sustaining as possible blessed everyone who knew him. Of course, his wonderful parents, friends, Church leaders, and teachers did all they could, but Chucky Anderson determined he would be as self-reliant as possible.
He desperately wanted to serve a mission but could not in the typical sense. So what did he do? He served a mission by helping all who knew him to know that he was a Mormon boy and loved the Lord. He made the decision to forget himself and do all he could do to be courageous and helpful and to build others.
Another example: Just last spring a group of high school students sat in a seminary class looking at their watches, hoping the class would soon end. They were not paying attention to what was going on. They were laughing and teasing and passing notes.
President Benson’s face appeared on the video they should have been watching. He was talking about the Book of Mormon. The noise continued. Suddenly, a young woman stood up, stepped to the front of the class, pushed the pause button, and said in a frightened voice, “He is our prophet. He talks with Heavenly Father. He is telling us about the Book of Mormon, and we should listen.”
Suddenly, every eye was focused on the front of the room as that lovely young lady turned the television set back on and quietly returned to her seat.
As I spoke with the seminary teacher a week or two later, he said, “In all the years that I have taught, I have never seen a class more reverent, more focused upon the things that matter, as the day when that young lady went to the front of the class and said, ‘You listen to our prophet.’” She did it on her own. She did not wait for another.
Several months ago, after boarding an airplane scheduled to fly to Phoenix, Arizona, the passengers found themselves retained on the ground because of foggy weather. While we were waiting, the door of the airplane opened several times and others joined us, even though it was half an hour or more after the plane should have departed.
A young teenager took the vacant seat beside me. After a short time, he looked toward me and said, “Hey, mister, are you a Mormon?”
I said “Yes” and inquired why he asked.
He reported, “I joined the Church several months ago, but I don’t know whether I believe it anymore.”
We talked about the gospel. I bore my testimony. We discussed many things relating to the Church and to life. Meanwhile, the plane had left Salt Lake and was winging its way south.
This fine young man who wanted to have his testimony reaffirmed and strengthened was willing to do something about it. Cody and I are pen pals now. When I think of him, I recall a wonderful young man, searching for truth, needing a little reassurance, and seeking it on his own. He took responsibility.
In every ward and branch throughout the world are those who ask, “Is it true?” or inquire, “How can I change my life for the better?” We must assist, but the task is theirs alone to walk the path that will strengthen testimonies and straighten lives.
I would like to talk to you about how this takes place. What are the steps? What must I do to have my testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ strengthened and my life modified for the better?
First, you must want to change with all your heart. You must take responsibility upon yourself to do whatever is necessary to be different.
Second, do as our prophet has directed and read the scriptures. Concentrate upon the words of the Master as reflected through the writings of Nephi, Moses, Paul, Luke, Joseph Smith, and other prophets. Often, when the days are dark and times are difficult, turning to the scriptures will provide a strength and confirmation that generally can come in no other way. To have a testimony and personality become stronger, one must go it alone.
Third, live the commandments. We generally struggle with a weakening testimony and with a diminished knowledge of the truthfulness of Heavenly Father’s plan when we do not live the way He has asked us to live. Another cannot repent for us. This is a task we must do alone.
Of course, everyone makes mistakes. But let me tell you about a lovely young lady who visited in my office. She was discouraged, almost depressed. She enjoyed her profession of teaching yet felt that her life was not going anywhere. To complicate the problem she was feeling, her testimony had waned, and she was lacking the spark that all who had known her acknowledged was part of her vibrant personality.
“I am going to ask you a question,” I said, “but I do not want details. Are you living the commandments?”
She whispered, “No.”
We talked about her going to her bishop. We also talked about testimony and about how when one lives the commandments, that individual is endowed with blessings of the Spirit that can come in no other way.
She left, seemingly as discouraged as she had entered my office. But in a while, perhaps a month later, my telephone rang. She reported that all was well.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Well, I went to my bishop. I am living the commandments now, and, yes, I know the gospel is true. I did it on my own,” she reported.
“No one else could have done it for you,” I replied.
Think of the days, weeks, even months and years wasted by people waiting for someone else to assume responsibility for their needs. It simply cannot be. God, in his heaven, will not do for us what we can and should do for ourselves.
Fourth, we all have the task to help others when they really need burdens lifted. This is the heart of Christian service. But remember, doing for others tasks they should be doing on their own leads to their detriment and atrophy.
These four steps will help us develop a oneness with the Savior. Do we fully realize that Jesus is to be the center of our lives? Only the Savior can be our Savior, and that relationship is always personal. We go to him alone. He accepts us that way only.
There is no other way.
Our Church magazines, lesson manuals, and videotapes will never supply everything that a person needs to solve a problem, prepare a lesson, or find a new direction in life. These resources will remain helpful, but all of them together will never be as complete or as powerful as the scriptures. And incidentally, let us not rely too heavily upon what others tell us the Lord is saying in the standard works. Let us find out by going directly to those sacred pages ourselves.
We love our church buildings where we worship on Sunday, play volleyball on Wednesday, and meet on other days as our assignments dictate. They are well designed and almost always beautifully maintained, but they do not substitute for our homes and never will. Even where chapels are not or cannot be found, places always will be available where good people can meet together, partake of the sacrament, and worship our Heavenly Father.
Evidence shows that less is often more and often better. Homemade lesson enrichment materials, parent-and-child-designed family home evening discussions and activities, and examples that conform to the scriptures, to the words of the Brethren, and to one’s unique culture are often more beneficial than materials we might purchase.
Do not outlaw common sense or forget the inspiration that you can receive to provide examples for your family worship, Gospel Doctrine lesson, or other Church assignments.
How often a child will say, “No, let me do it,” when a well-meaning adult provides a little too much assistance.
Remember when you made a whistle out of a willow branch, and it sounded better than a store-bought one?
How much is lost when we limit ourselves to a rented video, a television program, or some other form of packaged entertainment. We can miss the growth and enjoyment that come from playing catch with a child, walking with a neighbor, making a simple drawing, singing with a friend, or seeking pure truth from a well-worn copy of the Book of Mormon.
What is happening to us? Why do we rely upon others for our opinions, our directions, our activities, and even our vocabulary?
It is time to say, “Whoa, stop. I want to take personal responsibility for my actions.” Now is the time to stop blaming others, the government, the Church, or our circumstances for what might disturb us.
It is time to take responsibility for ourselves.
To these things I testify, in the name of Jesus Christ, our Savior, amen.

A group of returned missionaries from the Philippines Baguio Mission (1985–1988) gathered and toured the temple.
Willie Almaras from Bacolod said that the group prepared for a year for the reunion. He was excited to meet the people he taught and baptized. Many of them have their own families already and their children have gone on missions.
He recalled the times he walked past the acacia trees along McArthur Hi-way in Urdaneta City, when he was serving a full-time mission 30 years ago. “I wondered what those trees were for,” he said.
Willie was amazed to see the same trees which now surround the magnificent Urdaneta Temple.

I promised myself after my mission, that I would take advantage of any opportunity that came to give further service internationally. One day three years later, Sister Mary Ellen Edmunds called and asked, "Want to go to Africa?"
"Yes!" I said, without asking where or why.
So, another opportunity arose that blessed my life. I worked for the Thrasher Research Fund on a village health project in Nigeria. It was our blessing to live next door to the branch president and his family. In our work, his wife, Cecilia, became our best helper and friend as she assisted us in our project work.
Here is a picture of her with her youngest son back in 1985 at the time I was working there. What a noble woman she was. She and her family worked hard and yet had time to serve others every single day. She certainly made our work more effective.
I know that Cecilia has continued her life of service, as the small branch we attended has become a stake and she has served as a stake Relief Society president.
Two days ago I received from Sister Edmunds a more current picture of Cecilia and her husband, Samuel, one that made us both cry.
Here are Samuel and Cecilia on the day they received their endowments in the Aba, Nigeria Temple. I have carried love for them in my heart ever since I lived next door to these good, good neighbors. How wonderful that through the temple building of President Hinckley, they, and many others like them, may enter the House of the Lord and be sealed as a family. How blessed I was to live there and know them.

Sister Mayra is a recent convert from Ecuador. Her joy in the gospel skyrocketed immediately following her baptism as she invited friends and loved ones around her through social media accounts. Many family members and friends who saw her posts responded with questions. Mayra connected with them, often inviting them to her home to meet with the missionaries together.

Mayra’s parents, her siblings, her aunt, two cousins, and several of her friends were baptized because she courageously invited them to “come and see,” “come and serve,” and “come and belong.” Through her normal and natural invitations, over 20 people have accepted her invitation to be baptized members of the Church of Jesus Christ. This came about because Sister Mayra simply invited others to experience the joy she felt as a member of the Church.

When I was preparing for a mission, there was a quota in the United States on religious deferrals granted to the Church, affecting how many could serve because of the Vietnam conflict. Only two young men per ward were allowed to serve missions, and there were 17 eligible priests in our ward. The quota was filled by chronological age, and I was number 14 of 17. I learned about pondering and praying when I wondered how I was going to fit into this quota. I thought I would go on a mission within the next couple of years, or wait until either the Vietnam conflict was over, or go when I was 25 years old and no longer subject to the draft or the quota system.
I received some wise advice from my bishop, who advised me to “pursue a mission now.” The only way I could do that was to enlist in the military and receive a change of status, but I pondered and prayed about it because I knew that conflict was imminent, and I wasn’t sure that would really be the best direction. I had to ask myself some hard questions. I had been accepted into a master’s program in architecture at the University of Utah for a five-year course that I did not want to interrupt. But it didn’t feel right to postpone my mission, so I had gone to the bishop and asked for his suggestion. He said, “Prepare and go now.”
Deciding to serve a mission was an expansion of faith driven by two possible options: “Do I do it now?” or “Do I do it later?” I had worked through the decision to go on a mission now, and a good bishop advised me to persevere toward a solution that would allow it to happen.
That solution came when I enlisted in the Air Force Reserves. After serving for one year, I was able to reclassify my status and thereby avoid being part of the mission quota. This change allowed me to go on a mission when I was almost 20. My mission was a wonderful experience that would not have happened had I not pondered, prayed, performed by seeking good guidance, and persevered.
Most of the group who went into the Air Force Reserves that year were a little older than I was, and I learned a lot from them. I remained worthy, and it was a wonderful thing to know that those who were with me recognized and appreciated my standards. Associating with those good people helped me to be a better missionary.