Gospel Story Finder

After boot camp and medical training, I was assigned to an air force base in Colorado, USA. One day, I received a letter from my oldest brother stationed in the Philippines. He had joined the air force about a year before I did. He told me that he had become a member of the Church, and he wanted me to meet with the missionaries. I immediately recalled the experience in boot camp with the brave airman. My wife and I met with the missionaries, and we were soon baptized.
A few months later, I had the missionaries visit my younger brother. He and his wife were also baptized. My brothers and I now have large families with grandchildren. We all love the Lord and His Church.

His employment was interrupted by a 15-month stint in the Yugoslavian army, where he was exposed to “all kinds of people, good and bad,” he says. “I learned that I wasn’t supposed to think too much but do only what I was told. I came to believe that all people are selfish and are ready to walk all over those who are weaker. I became distrustful of others and relied only on myself. I didn’t feel any real emotions at that time.”
After his military assignment, Albin returned to his job but felt restless and dissatisfied. He eventually quit his job to study computer and information technology at the university. But he was still not finding joy in life. “On weekends my friends and I would have what we called fun—wandering from place to place, drinking alcohol, and flirting with girls we met,” he says. “I wasn’t happy because I felt empty inside. It all seemed fake.”
Then in 1987 he met Boza Gartner, a young woman he had known briefly before, and they began dating. And in June 1989, he was accepted as an international student trainee for three months at a company in Stavanger, Norway. He moved to Norway, started his internship, and met the missionaries a few weeks later.
“A young man holding a book stopped me on the street,” Albin says. “He said something to me in Norwegian, and his book was written in Norwegian. I explained in English that I didn’t understand a word he said and that I had no intention of taking any book, especially one in a language I did not understand.” To his surprise the missionary, an American, responded in English and offered to get Albin a copy of the Book of Mormon in English. Albin politely gave the missionary his address, but he hoped nothing would come of it.
A few days later the missionaries arrived at his door and gave him a copy of the Book of Mormon in English. They later gave him a copy in Croatian, which he could also read. (A Slovenian edition did not yet exist.) Albin’s conversations with the missionaries caused him to think about his religious beliefs.
“I had always believed in God,” he says. “And I prayed almost daily—but my prayers were ones I was taught as a Catholic, and I was only subconsciously repeating words. I didn’t believe my church was true, but I wasn’t looking for an alternative.”
Although parts of the Book of Mormon were interesting, he says, “I had no spiritual witness while reading it.” And when he attended the Stavanger Branch in Norway—a stranger who knew no one and didn’t speak the language—he initially felt uncomfortable.
But he liked what he saw and felt at church, and the members welcomed him warmly. “They were extremely kind to me,” he says. “They showed great interest in me by asking where I was from and what I was doing in the town. They invited me to come again. When I did, they accepted me as a part of their family.”
Now he felt more motivated to study the Book of Mormon and pray about it. “I prayed more and more,” he says, “waiting to get some kind of answer. Then one day while I was reading the words of Moroni, the answer came—unexpected, unannounced. I felt the Holy Ghost giving me indescribable feelings, and my mind was enlightened. At that same moment I was aware of all my sins, and I began to cry. I had never cried because of a book before. In that moment I knew the Holy Ghost was present with me, and I was thankful to the Lord.”
Albin was baptized on his 26th birthday, 19 August 1989. “I was a completely different man now than when I went to Norway in June,” he says. “My soul was clean, my sins were forgiven, and I was starting a new life much different from the one before. I felt glad, peaceful, and safe.” He also felt the nudges of the Holy Ghost—hinting of spiritual responsibilities that awaited him at home.
When he learned that the Church had not yet been established in Slovenia and that, as far as he knew, no Church members lived there, he realized the importance of learning all he could during his few remaining weeks in Norway. He continued attending Church meetings, family home evenings, and other activities; received the Aaronic Priesthood; had many discussions with missionaries, members, and Church leaders; and read the Doctrine and Covenants in English.
“I was worried about being left on my own back home,” he says. “I prayed that God would give me strength to explain my beliefs to my girlfriend, my parents, and others. I knew it would be difficult, but I also knew God would help me as long as I remained worthy.”
The closest branch in what was then the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia was in Zagreb, Croatia—three hours away from Albin’s home in Slovenia. He later learned there was a branch a little more than an hour away, in Klagenfurt, Austria. For more than a year he attended the branch in Austria every Sunday, even though his ability to speak German was limited. “The branch president and all the members were very friendly and kind,” he says. He received the Melchizedek Priesthood and served in his first Church callings in the Klagenfurt Branch. And his girlfriend, Boza, often went with him. Sister missionaries taught her the gospel.
“It took me almost six months to get my own testimony,” says Boza. “The Book of Mormon had not yet been translated into Slovenian, and it was difficult for me to read it in Croatian. One Sunday in 1990 I went to a nearby grove to pray for the answer, just like Joseph Smith did. The answer came in the middle of the prayer as an exceptional warmth around my heart. I thought at first that this warmth came from the sun—but the sun had already gone down, and the warm feeling was still there. I felt peace and knew from that moment on that God wanted me to accept His gospel.” Albin baptized her in the Klagenfurt Branch in March 1990.
In December of that year, the first two full-time missionaries were assigned to Slovenia, and soon the first baptisms in that land took place. In the summer of 1991, Slovenia proclaimed independence from Yugoslavia. After a tense 10-day war, the matter was peacefully resolved. A few months later, on 22 December 1991, the first branch in Slovenia was organized, with Albin Lotric as branch president.
The next year, in July 1992, Albin and Boza were married in Slovenia and then sealed in the Frankfurt Germany Temple—the first couple living in Slovenia to be sealed. “I could not have found a better, more understanding wife,” Albin says. “She gives me strength with her love and encouragement. It is especially wonderful to be together in the temple, to review the plan of salvation and enter into an eternal bond together. It gives perspective to all other activities in life.”
Their three children were born in the covenant: Lea Martina, April 1993; Flora Ema, January 1995; and Benjamin Luka, November 1996. “My wife and I are trying to plant the seeds of a gospel-centered life in the hearts of our children,” Albin says, “so they will be strong enough to face the challenges that will come and so they will be able to stand up for their beliefs.” The children are learning about the gospel through family home evening and scripture study, using the illustrated Book of Mormon Stories, which has been translated into Slovenian. Albin and Boza are helping them learn to recognize answers to their simple prayers.
“The Lord is blessing us abundantly,” Albin says. “I am trying to return this blessing by being faithful in the Church and trying to be a good husband and father.”
With the Church still in its infancy in Slovenia, President and Sister Lotric and other pioneering Saints continue giving much to assist in its growth. Sister Lotric serves in the auxiliaries and is writing a history of the Church in Slovenia. And after serving as branch president for seven years, President Lotric was called in April 1998 to his current assignment as Slovenia’s first district president. Over the years he has represented the Church on national television and radio, in newspapers and magazines, and in legal matters.
Meanwhile his career has blossomed. With university degrees in business administration and computer science, he currently works in the information technology department of the Slovenian ministry of finance. He enjoys friendly associations with colleagues and feels that most of them respect his lifestyle and beliefs. “To live according to the teachings of this Church requires many demands of the members,” he says. “But I know from my own experience that the resulting blessings bring much more joy than any earthly thing.”
One of his most memorable assignments has been to serve on the translation team for the Slovenian edition of the Book of Mormon, which is expected to be completed soon. “When the Book of Mormon comes forth with all its divinity and power,” says President Lotric, “the gates of heaven will open wide. The Spirit will testify even more mightily to the people of Slovenia that the word of God has once more been revealed to the children of men and that there is no name given under the heavens but the name of Jesus Christ through which salvation can come.”
Map by Thomas S. Child
In July 1999, nearly 10 years after Albin’s baptism, the Slovenia Ljubljana Mission—which includes various countries of the former Yugoslavia—was created. In Slovenia itself, a nation of two million inhabitants, there are now 200 members, one district, and three branches—in Ljubljana, Celje, and Maribor. Local leaders and members are learning to fellowship new converts. Couples have been sealed in the temple. Young men and women from Slovenia are serving full-time missions in many parts of the world. And members in Slovenia can now receive the Liahona in their own language.
“I know this is just a beginning,” says President Lotric. “I have a vision of the Saints blossoming like a rose in this country.”
Was it worth anyone’s time to befriend a stranger in a foreign land and teach him the gospel, knowing that in three months he would return to his home in a nation where the Church had not yet been established?
“The ways of our Lord are sometimes unpredictable and beyond human imagination,” says Albin Lotric. “He chose a wonderful way to present the gospel to me.”

When I was 17 years old, I faced heavy peer pressure at my high school. The friends that I did have didn’t share my values. My friends and I participated in many appropriate activities together like playing basketball or football. But they also drank alcohol and smoked—two activities I didn’t do with them.
One day a group of us was outside of our school studying for a test we would take later that day. With me were two of my closest friends, Juan and Francisco (names have been changed). At one point, someone got out lighters and cigarettes. I thought my friends had gotten bored with studying and had forgotten I was there. I learned I was wrong when they turned to me and said, “Now is the time for Hugo to learn how to smoke.”
Before I even had the chance to react, Juan and Francisco leapt toward me and took me by the arms, one on each side. They held my arms down as someone pressed a cigarette between my lips. My body immediately rejected this, and I spit the cigarette on the ground, far from me. Soon after, I felt the blow of a clenched fist squarely connect with my cheekbone. They threatened me, saying, “We’re going to light the cigarette again, and you’re going to learn to take the smoke. Don’t throw it on the ground. If you do, it’s not going to go well.”
In that moment, I knew I was in trouble. I closed my eyes and said a quick prayer asking for some type of help. As soon as I finished my prayer, our teacher’s car pulled up and parked near us. Our teacher got out of the car and asked us what we were doing. My friends released me. “We’re getting ready for the test,” they assured the teacher. We went into the school and took the test, and the situation ended.

Richard’s life, before joining the Church, was one of welfare checks, food stamps, social worker interviews, public health clinics, and unpaid medical and utility bills. Neither Richard nor his wife knew how to handle even small amounts of money. Richard experienced a marvelous conversion to the Church but came in with many personal deficiencies. He had great difficulty in holding a job. He was referred by his bishop to Deseret Industries for employment. For the first time in his adult life, he began earning a regular paycheck. As Richard worked at Deseret Industries, he began to develop pride in himself. He no longer humped over when he spoke. His wife and children began to develop respect for him as patriarch in the home.
The Deseret Industries rehabilitation coordinator worked closely with Richard as did his bishop. A checking account was established in his name. A workable family budget was outlined and agreed to. Doctor bills that had remained unpaid for over a year were paid. A two-and-a-half-month-old electric bill was paid the day the power was to be shut off. All other bills were slowly brought up to date and handled properly.
Richard’s life was changing. He felt self-worth and direction. Early in July of this year, the general manager of a large laundry-linen business came to the Deseret Industries. He was looking for good employees. Richard was to be given the chance to interview for a job. He expressed great anxiety about the interview. Richard and the Deseret Industries rehabilitation coordinator practiced interviewing over and over. Richard passed the interview and was hired. A new life-style was about to begin.
When Richard left Deseret Industries, a luncheon was held in his honor, during which the following was recorded:
“Brothers and sisters, I have good news and bad news. The good news is that I have found a job in the labor market which will pay me more money than I have ever made before. For the first time in my life, I will be able to provide for my family in the way our Heavenly Father wants me to. I am progressing, which is what this life is all about. The bad news, or I should say the sad news, is that I will be leaving all of you. I love you from the bottom of my heart. I am grateful for what Deseret Industries has done for me. I pray that you will all find the happiness I have experienced in working at Deseret Industries. I especially want to thank both Jim Wilson and my bishop who have done so much for me. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”
Richard surpassed his own and his new employer’s expectations. He has recently been promoted and given a handsome increase in salary. A soul, a human life, has been blessed—probably nothing else could have done what a bishop and a Deseret Industries rehabilitation coordinator did.

Tara had special feelings about adoption. She had known since she was very young that she was adopted.

She never got tired of hearing the story of how she had come to her family. Her parents had volunteered to become foster parents through the county’s social services department. Tara’s birth parents hadn’t been able to take care of her, and she had been placed in foster care.

Her parents explained how police officers had brought Tara to them. Mom told her that she had been dressed in a diaper and a T-shirt and had been wrapped in a pink blanket. Tara now kept the blanket in a chest along with other special things.

“As soon as I held you in my arms, I knew that you were going to be an important part of our family,” her mother said when she told the story.

Eight years ago, when Tara was three years old, her parents had adopted her. Her whole family had gone to the Denver Colorado Temple for the sealing. The story always made Tara feel good.

Let me tell you about Noelle Pikus-Pace, one of those Latter-day Saint athletes. Her event was the skeleton. Imagine traveling headfirst with your face inches above the ground down a winding, icy track at 90 miles (145 km) an hour, all on a small sled! In the Olympics, Noelle had only four minutes—four 60-second runs—to win her medal.
For Noelle, this was not the first time she’d tried for the Olympics. In 2006 she broke her leg and couldn’t compete in the Olympics. In 2010 she missed winning a medal by one-tenth of a second. But she didn’t give up. She trained for hours, days, weeks, and months. In the 2014 Olympics, her runs were flawless! She won the silver medal!

Bertha came into my life when I was 13 and just beginning junior high school. How well I remember that first day of school. The building was large and sprawling with endless halls and rows and rows of lockers. It seemed like a huge transit mall compared to the security of grade school. Most of the students had come on school buses from small farms and neighborhoods. This was certainly not a big city group, but we were still anxious to be popular and accepted. There were so many of us that we were going to be using the old grade school across the street for additional classrooms. I alternated between excitement and panic at the thought of finding my way around.
I had worked hard all summer babysitting and getting up at 5:00 A.M. to pick strawberries and cherries so I could earn enough money to buy nice school clothes. But even in all my fine new clothes, I felt awkward and uneasy.
My friends and I huddled together, trying to act nonchalant to hide the fear we felt but didn’t dare admit. We stood in awe as the eighth and ninth graders moved confidently through the halls laughing and teasing each other. It was a relief when the bell finally rang and we all headed to the big gym where it was announced that each seventh grader was to be assigned to an eighth grade “big brother or sister” to show them around. Each seventh grader was called, along with the name of his buddy for the day.
When my name was called along with Bertha Brown, I heard several of my friends gasp. I had no idea who Bertha Brown was, but it was obvious that some of them did. As soon as we were excused to go meet our big sisters, I was surrounded by girls telling me to hide quickly before Bertha could find me. It was clear that to be assigned to Bertha was the worst possible fate. I was so confused. Part of me said not to hide—that would be mean. But another part of me wanted to be popular, and that’s the side that won.
So the game began—the hiding, the giggling, and the running from imagined danger. We managed to escape from Bertha for the moment, but not before I caught a glimpse of her. It was true that she was not pretty. She was even a little scary to look at with her wild, dry hair. Her clothes looked like something a grandmother would wear, and her shoes were brown and ugly.
All day the big story was how poor little Sheron had to hide from Bertha. The one time that I really saw Bertha’s face she looked so sad. How could we be so mean to her? I thought. She hadn’t done anything to deserve it. There we were, a whole group of girls, running away from one lonely person. I knew that what we were doing was wrong. I didn’t want to play that awful game. What I really wanted was to talk to Bertha and tell her I was sorry. I knew that she must be embarrassed. But I wasn’t brave enough, so I let everyone else lead me. But oh, I was miserable!
Later that day I forgot about Bertha when I was called to Mrs. Jensen’s office. She had been my very favorite teacher in grade school, and now she was a counselor at the junior high. I could hardly wait to see her. All the way to her office I imagined all kinds of wonderful things. Maybe she wanted me to be her special assistant. Maybe she had something important that she wanted me to do. I almost ran through the halls in my eagerness to see Mrs. Jensen. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for her.
When I walked into her office, I could see tears in her eyes, and my heart nearly broke when she looked straight at me and said, “Of all the girls coming into seventh grade, I assigned Bertha to you because I thought that you were the one girl who would be kind to her!”
All the misery of the day came crashing down on me, and I sobbed as I realized that Mrs. Jensen did have an important assignment for me and I had failed her. I had failed Bertha. But, most of all, I had betrayed myself. The next day everyone else forgot about the game—and Bertha. I never did. I rarely saw her after that day. When I did catch a glimpse of her all alone, I wanted desperately to tell her how sorry I was. But I was too ashamed and too young in my understanding of compassion to know how much it would mean to her.
I never saw Bertha again after junior high, and yet she has been a very important part of my life. Even today I wish that I had found the courage to be her friend. How do you say you are sorry to someone that you have never spoken to and yet hurt so deeply that more than 30 years later you cannot forget?

During these trying years, Brigham’s future leadership of the Church was being developed. For example, when the Saints were driven out of Far West, Missouri, he went among the brethren asking them to pledge everything they owned “so that we can take with us the Saints who aren’t able to go on their own, who have nothing. We do not want to leave a member of the Church behind who wants to leave.” To the credit of those men, poor as they were, they pledged their money, their cattle, their wagons—everything they owned as a group—to help the poorer Saints.
Brigham not only organized assistance, he set the example of service by driving a wagon carrying his wife, and Vilate Kimball, and their children thirty kilometers out of Far West toward Quincy, Illinois. He unloaded the wagon, set up a tent for the women and children, cut enough fire wood to last a couple of days, and then drove the wagon back to Far West to bring out another family. Then that family camped while he took his and the Kimball family on a further thirty kilometers. He returned to transport the second family over the same route. In that manner he moved his own family and the Kimballs as well as a family that didn’t have the means to leave by themselves. Similar actions were taken by other brethren so that all the Saints could leave Far West.

For example, a few years ago, my husband and I, along with two of our sons and two of their friends, were driving home from Island Park, where we'd had a fun weekend camping. On the way home, a driver coming the opposite direction drifted across the highway and hit us. While we were not injured, our truck was damaged, and the trailer we were pulling was obliterated. The young man in the other car nearly lost his leg, requiring many surgeries and months of rehab.

It might be difficult to see the blessings in this hardship, but there were many.

First, before the accident, we weren't entirely focused on the highway. Four loud and enthusiastic boys in the backseat can be a bit distracting. But in the seconds before that car drifted towards us, the truck became calm. For no apparent reason, we all stopped talking and focused on the road ahead. This quiet allowed my husband, Jim, to react quickly and swerve to avoid a head-on collision, which would have led to even greater injury and possibly death.

Additionally, this accident occurred at one of the few turnouts on this highway. We had plenty of room to swerve without worrying about sliding off the road. This pull out also provided room for Jim and another driver, who'd stopped to help, to assist the young man in the other car. They were able to apply a tourniquet that reduced the bleeding and saved his life. It also provided room for the ambulance, police officers, and many others to work, as they used the Jaws of Life to remove the young man from the car.

Finally, this man's severe injuries came from the impact of hitting our trailer, but, miraculously, the trailer was empty. Just minutes before we left the campsite, we decided not to haul home our four-wheelers, leaving them for the others who were staying behind. Had his car hit a loaded trailer, this young man would have died instantly.

Yes, this young man had great difficulty ahead of him. But the very details of this accident reflected the blessings that we all received that night.

Such trust in God can bless communities as well as families. I grew up in a small town in New Jersey. Our branch of the Church had fewer than 20 members who regularly attended.
Among them was a woman—an older, very humble convert to the Church. She was an immigrant who spoke with a heavy Norwegian accent. She was the only member of the Church in her family and the only member of the Church in the city in which she lived.
Through my father, who was the branch president, the Lord called her as the president of the branch Relief Society. She had no handbook to tell her what to do. No other member of the Church lived near her. She only knew that the Lord cared for those in need and the few words in the motto of the Relief Society: “Charity never faileth.”
It was in the depths of what we now call the Great Depression. Thousands were out of work and homeless. So, feeling she had her errand from the Lord, she asked her neighbors for old clothes. She washed the clothes, pressed them, and put them in cardboard boxes on her back porch. When men without money needed clothes and asked her neighbors for help, they would say, “Go to the house down the street. There is a Mormon lady living there who will give you what you need.”
The Lord did not run the city, but He changed a part of it for the better. He called one tiny woman—alone—who trusted Him enough to find out what He wanted her to do and then did it. Because of her trust in the Lord, she was able to help in that city hundreds of Heavenly Father’s children in need.

“I’ll always remember that when I was in high school, Dad and I were President and Sister Kimball’s home teachers. Every time we visited them President Kimball invited me to say the prayer. One day I asked him why he always asked me to say the prayer. Sister Kimball smiled and said, ‘Don’t worry, son, he asks me too.’ Then with a twinkle in his eyes, President Kimball said, ‘I thought you both could use the practice.’

Following the kind introduction, I think it is appropriate for you to know of an incident in my educational past. Sister Cardon and I enjoyed living in the Boston area during our time at Harvard. For those of you who have lived in or visited the area, you know that the roads are sometimes full of curves over uneven terrain. At the end of the academic year I drove with Sister Cardon to the school to retrieve one of my final papers, whereupon I learned that although my final grade for the course was what I had hoped, the grade for this paper, although respectable, was not.

When we returned to the car, I handed the paper to Sister Cardon, and she began reading as we drove along a curvy, hilly road—not the best experience for one prone to motion nausea. After some time we came to a stop, and Sister Cardon put the paper down and said, “Honey, I just finished reading your paper, and I think I’m going to be sick.”

My only response was, “I’m sorry you feel that way, dear, but evidently it had the same effect on the professor.”

I will forever be grateful to these sweet nuns, for their caring and gentle guidance when I was so lost. As I grew up and graduated from my school, I did the best I could on my own, but I always carried a feeling that something was missing. One day, a friend, who later became my husband, sent two missionaries to visit my house. This was the turning point of my life.
The missionaries taught me about the restored gospel and the plan of salvation. They taught me a truth that was complete, and I learned to know my Savior even better than before. I came to understand my purpose on earth.
Because of this knowledge about Jesus Christ and His gospel, I started seeing life from a different angle and came to know that one day my mom and I will be united again forever. Nothing could compare to the joy I felt after learning this great truth.

“At first, I never knew how to share the gospel with anyone or how to introduce the missionaries to my friends,” Eduarda explains. Eduarda is from Brazil and, while she isn’t surrounded by many members of the Church, she knows that “the Lord always prepares a way for His children to know the truth.”

Eduarda shared a Church video with a friend, who loved what he saw. When her friend grew more interested in the Church, Eduarda invited him to meet with the missionaries and used the missionary referral feature on the Church’s website. Eduarda added a comment saying that she wanted to participate in her friend’s gospel learning progress. The missionaries happily agreed. Eduarda even participated in the baptism.

Eduarda says she felt God’s love for His children in that moment. She also explains, “We all have someone who sees the Light of Christ in us. We just need to invite them to see what that light is!”

As I navigated life after my parents’ divorce, I learned that Jesus Christ really is the ultimate source of peace and hope.
Christ’s healing power is real. For years, I didn’t talk to my dad. I tried to forget what he had done. I begged for Christ’s grace to help me let go of my anger. The Spirit helped me understand what to do, and eventually, I was able to forgive him. Our relationship, while still recovering, was instilled with new life.
Easter is a reminder that through Jesus Christ, hope will conquer despair, life will conquer death, and light will conquer darkness. Choosing to follow Him is the decision that shapes my life—not one made by someone else.

After graduating from BYU, I took a job with the Boeing Company in Seattle, Washington. I was soon called as an assistant Scoutmaster in our ward. One year we spent the summer taking hikes, including a fifty-miler around Mount Rainier. The early hikes prepared us physically and helped us develop the skills needed for the ultimate hike. We learned how to use maps and the compass and also to set checkpoints along the trail to find where we were and how to get where we wanted to go. It was a wonderful time for us.

For the Scouts, a hike in the Cascades was an exciting adventure and an end in itself, but for us, as leaders, it was an opportunity to teach them the skills, character traits, and testimony needed for life’s journey.

During my professional life as a pilot, I relied greatly on the precision and reliability of computer systems but rarely had to work my own personal computer. In my office work as an executive, I had assistants and secretaries who kindly helped me with the tasks.
All this changed in 1994, when I was called as a General Authority. My calling consisted of many wonderful opportunities to minister, but it also included a great deal of Church office work—more than I ever thought possible.
To my shock, the main tool to stay on top of my work was a personal computer.
For the first time in my life, I had to delve into this strange, mystifying, incomprehensible world.
From the start, the computer and I were not on the friendliest of terms.
Able tech people tried to teach me how to use the computer. They literally stood behind me, reaching over my shoulder, their fingers moving quickly and tapping a percussive symphony against the keyboard.
“See?” they would say proudly. “That’s how you do it.”
I did not see. It was a rocky transition.
My learning curve was more like a brick wall.
It took a great deal of time, repetition, patience; no small amount of hope and faith; lots of reassurance from my wife; and many liters of a diet soda that shall remain nameless.
Now, 22 years later, I am surrounded by computer technology. I have an email address, a Twitter account, and a Facebook page. I own a smartphone, a tablet, a laptop, and a digital camera. And, while my tech skills may not quite measure up to those of a typical seven-year-old, for a septuagenarian, I do all right.
But I have noticed something interesting. The more adept I get at technology, the more I take it for granted.
For a large part of human history, communication happened at the speed of a horse. Sending a message and getting a reply could take days or even months. Today our messages travel thousands of miles into the sky or thousands of meters beneath the oceans to reach someone on the other side of the world, and if there is a delay of even a few seconds, we get frustrated and impatient.
It seems to be human nature: as we become more familiar with something, even something miraculous and awe-inspiring, we lose our sense of awe and treat it as commonplace.
Taking for granted our modern technologies and conveniences may be a relatively small matter. But, sadly, we sometimes take a similar attitude toward the eternal and soul-expanding doctrine of the gospel of Jesus Christ. In the Church of Jesus Christ, we have been given so much. We are surrounded by such an astonishing wealth of light and truth that I wonder if we truly appreciate what we have.
Think of those early disciples who walked and talked with the Savior during His earthly ministry. Imagine the thanksgiving and reverence that must have flooded their hearts and filled their minds when they saw Him risen from the tomb, when they felt the wounds in His hands. Their lives would never be the same!
Think of the early Saints of this dispensation who knew the Prophet Joseph Smith and heard him preach the restored gospel. Imagine how they must have felt to know that the veil between heaven and earth had parted again, shedding light and knowledge upon the world from our celestial home above.
But most of all, think of how you felt when for the first time you believed and understood that you are truly a child of God; that Jesus Christ willingly suffered for your sins so that you may be clean again; that priesthood power is real and can bind you to your loved ones for time and for all eternity; that there is a living prophet on the earth today. Isn’t that wonderful and amazing?
Considering all of this, how could it ever be possible that we of all people would not be excited about attending our Church worship services? Or get tired of reading the holy scriptures? I suppose this could be possible only if our hearts were past feeling to experience gratitude and awe for the sacred and sublime gifts God has granted us. Life-changing truths are before our eyes and at our fingertips, but sometimes we sleepwalk on the path of discipleship. Too often we let ourselves be distracted by the imperfections of our fellow members instead of following the example of our Master. We tread a path covered with diamonds, but we can scarcely distinguish them from ordinary pebbles.
When I was a young man, my friends would ask me about my religion. Often I would start to explain the differences, like the Word of Wisdom. Other times I would emphasize the similarities with other Christian religions. None of this would impress them very much. But when I talked about the great plan of happiness our Father in Heaven has for us as His children, I had their attention.
I remember trying to draw the plan of salvation on a blackboard in a classroom of our chapel in Frankfurt, Germany. I made circles that represented premortal life, mortality, and the return to our Heavenly Parents after this life.
As a teenager, how I loved to share this exciting message. When I explained these principles in my own simple words, my heart would overflow with gratitude for a God who loves His children and a Savior who redeemed all of us from death and hell. I was so proud of this message of love, joy, and hope.
Some of my friends would say that this message felt familiar, even though such things were never taught in their religious upbringing. It was as if they had always known these things to be true, as if I was simply casting light on something that was always and deeply rooted in their hearts.
I believe every human being carries in his or her heart some form of fundamental questions regarding life itself. Where did I come from? Why am I here? What will happen after I die?
These kinds of questions have been asked by mortals since the dawn of time. Philosophers, scholars, and pundits have spent their lives and fortunes seeking for answers.
I am grateful that the restored gospel of Jesus Christ has answers to the most complex questions in life. These answers are taught in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. They are true, plain, straightforward, and easy to understand. They are inspired, and we teach them to our three-year-olds in the Sunbeam class.
Brothers and sisters, we are eternal beings, without beginning and without end. We have always existed. We are the literal spirit children of divine, immortal, and omnipotent Heavenly Parents!
We come from the heavenly courts of the Lord our God. We are of the royal house of Elohim, the Most High God. We walked with Him in our premortal life. We heard Him speak, witnessed His majesty, learned His ways.
You and I participated in a Grand Council where our beloved Father presented His plan for us—that we would come to earth, receive mortal bodies, learn to choose between good and evil, and progress in ways that would not otherwise be possible.
When we passed through the veil and entered this mortal life, we knew that we would no longer remember the life before. There would be opposition and adversity and temptation. But we also knew that gaining a physical body was of paramount importance for us. Oh, how we hoped that we would quickly learn to make the correct choices, withstand the temptations of Satan, and eventually return to our beloved Parents in Heaven.
We knew we would sin and make mistakes—perhaps even serious ones. But we also knew that our Savior, Jesus Christ, had pledged to come to earth, live a sinless life, and voluntarily lay down His life in an eternal sacrifice. We knew that if we gave our heart to Him, trusted Him, and strived with all the energy of our soul to walk in the path of discipleship, we could be washed clean and once again enter the presence of our beloved Father in Heaven.
So, with faith in the sacrifice of Jesus Christ, you and I accepted, by our free will, Heavenly Father’s plan.
That is why we are here on this beautiful planet earth—because God offered us the opportunity, and we chose to accept it. Our mortal life, however, is only temporary and will end with the death of our physical body. But the essence of who you and I are will not be destroyed. Our spirits will continue living and await the Resurrection—a free gift to all by our loving Heavenly Father and His Son, Jesus Christ. At the Resurrection, our spirits and bodies will be reunited, free from pain and physical imperfections.
After the Resurrection, there will be a Day of Judgment. While all will eventually be saved and inherit a kingdom of glory, those who trust in God and seek to follow His laws and ordinances will inherit lives in the eternities that are unimaginable in glory and overwhelming in majesty.
That Day of Judgment will be a day of mercy and love—a day when broken hearts are healed, when tears of grief are replaced with tears of gratitude, when all will be made right.
Yes, there will be deep sorrow because of sin. Yes, there will be regrets and even anguish because of our mistakes, our foolishness, and our stubbornness that caused us to miss opportunities for a much greater future.
But I have confidence that we will not only be satisfied with the judgment of God; we will also be astonished and overwhelmed by His infinite grace, mercy, generosity, and love for us, His children. If our desires and works are good, if we have faith in a living God, then we can look forward to what Moroni called “the pleasing bar of the great Jehovah, the Eternal Judge.”
My beloved brothers and sisters, my dear friends, does it not fill our hearts and minds with wonder and awe to contemplate the great plan of happiness our Heavenly Father has prepared for us? Does it not fill us with unspeakable joy to know of the glorious future that is prepared for all who wait upon the Lord?
If you have never felt such wonder and joy, I invite you to seek, study, and ponder the simple yet profound truths of the restored gospel. “Let the solemnities of eternity rest upon your minds.” Let them bear testimony unto you of the divine plan of salvation.
If you have felt these things before, I ask you today, “Can [you] feel so now?”
Recently I had the opportunity to travel to Belfast, Northern Ireland. While there, I noticed the Belfast Coat of Arms, which includes the motto “Pro tanto quid retribuamus,” or “What shall we give in return for so much?”
I invite each of us to consider this question. What shall we give in return for the flood of light and truth God has poured out upon us?
Our beloved Father simply asks that we live by the truth we have received and that we follow the path He has provided. Therefore, let us take courage and trust in the guidance of the Spirit. Let us in word and in deed share with our fellowmen the amazing and awe-inspiring message of God’s plan of happiness. May our motive be our love for God and for His children, for they are our brothers and sisters. This is the beginning of what we can do in return for so much.
Someday “every knee shall bow, and every tongue confess” that God’s ways are just and His plan is perfect. For you and me, let that day be today. Let us proclaim, with Jacob of old, “O how great the plan of our God!”
Of this I testify in deep gratitude to our Heavenly Father, as I leave you my blessing, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Let me share a personal experience related to that. A few weeks ago, Mônica and I were in Logan for an assignment, and we decided to go on a date. A friend from that area recommended the Bluebird. Maybe some of you here today are familiar with that restaurant. It is a nice place. Founded in 1914, the restaurant opened in its present location in 1923.

As we were there in the restaurant, our server came to us and asked, “Are you Elder Godoy?”

I said, “Yes.”

Then he started to talk to us in Spanish. He had served as a missionary in Peru, where we had served also.

While chatting here and there, I sensed that he was not comfortable with the subject of mission service. Since I knew his former mission president very well, as we were eating I sent him a message asking about that elder. His mission president replied that he had been a good missionary but that he didn’t finish his mission. And then I could understand why he was a little uncomfortable with the subject. I didn’t want him to feel bad about himself.

And why not? Because missions—although they are so important to all of us and to the Church—are not a saving ordinance. I wanted to tell him that, but that was not the right environment. I wanted to hug him. I wanted to say, “Don’t feel bad about yourself. Just keep going.”

I want to tell those here today who for some reason have not served a mission or didn’t finish it, don’t punish yourself for the rest of your life. Just stand up and aim at the next ordinance. Ordinances are the keys for our salvation and exaltation. And the next ordinance after your mission is sealing. This should be your main concern, to be worthy to get there with the right person at the right time. Stand up, aim toward the temple, and keep going. There are so many things still to be done in this life, and the Lord still expects a lot from you.

But sometimes there is no one like President Monson, no home teacher, no caring sister available to minister in time of need. In those situations I have come to find solace and direction from the Comforter, another role of the Holy Ghost (see D&C 36:2).
Our grandson Quinton was born with multiple birth defects and lived three weeks short of a year, during which time he was in and out of the hospital. Sister Jensen and I were living in Argentina at that time. We truly wanted to be there with our children to comfort them and be comforted by them. This was our grandchild, whom we loved and wanted to be near. We could only pray, and we did so fervently!
Sister Jensen and I were on a mission tour when we received word Quinton had died. We stood in the hallway of a meetinghouse and hugged and comforted each other. I witness to you that assurances came to us from the Holy Ghost, a peace which passes all understanding and continues to this day (see Philippians 4:7). We also witnessed the unspeakable gift of the Holy Ghost in the lives of our son and daughter-in-law and their children, who to this day speak of that time with such faith, peace, and comfort.

I used to attend a school where it was really hard to be a Latter-day Saint. The LDS students were a minority, and there weren’t many who shared similar standards. It seemed especially frustrating for me because my parents divorced during my freshman year.
During that time life was pretty confusing for me. I guess that’s when I really discovered the scriptures. But my family wasn’t supportive of my scripture reading. Even my mother used to tell me it was a waste of time. But through the scriptures I found someone else who dealt with family contention.
Lehi counseled Laman and Lemuel “because of the stiffneckedness of Laman and Lemuel; for behold they did murmur in many things against their father” (1 Ne. 2:11–12).
My family was divided. We fought all the time, my parents couldn’t say anything kind about each other, and they discouraged me from attending church. Our home was full of conflict.
“And it came to pass that Laman was angry with me, and also with my father; and also was Lemuel, for he hearkened unto the words of Laman. Wherefore Laman and Lemuel did speak many hard words unto us, their younger brothers, and they did smite us even with a rod” (1 Ne. 3:28).
I tried to set a good example for my family. I went to church, attended Mutual, and prayed regularly. I even invited my mom to get active in the Church again.
“And now I, Nephi, … spake unto them, saying, … Behold ye are mine elder brethren, and how is it that ye are so hard in your hearts, and so blind in your minds, that ye have need that I, your younger brother, should speak unto you, yea, and set an example for you?
“How is it that ye have not hearkened unto the word of the Lord?” (1 Ne. 7:8–9).
Sometimes, in private, I cried. Sometimes I prayed for them. Always I felt lonely.
“But, behold, Laman and Lemuel would not hearken unto my words; and being grieved because of the hardness of their hearts I cried unto the Lord for them” (1 Ne. 2:18).
When I was sad, I knew that Nephi knew sadness. When I was discouraged, I knew that Nephi knew discouragement. When I was lonely, I knew that Nephi knew loneliness.
No, my story doesn’t have a nice, neat ending. I wish it ended “happily ever after,” but it hasn’t yet. My home is still unhappy. But Heavenly Father has given me the scriptures, and I know that he understands exactly what it is like for me at home. Though the conflict hasn’t stopped, at least I have found comfort and peace and ways to cope.
“I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded, for I know that the Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save he shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the thing which he commandeth them” (1 Ne. 3:7).
Just as Nephi knew that the Lord would help him accomplish anything that was commanded, I too know that Heavenly Father will continue to strengthen and support me from my heavenly home as I struggle to deal with a torn earthly home. The scriptures are my lifeline to that heavenly home.