Gospel Story Finder

Our youngest daughter, Jen, had to have surgery at age four. She listened as we explained why the surgery was needed. She knew she would have to spend several days in a hospital. We told her Heavenly Father would bless her. We prayed with Jen, and she prayed too.
When the day came, we took her to the hospital. A doctor came and offered his hand to lead her to the operating room. With the simple faith of a child, she took his hand and walked ahead, unafraid and never looking back.
The operation was a success, and Jen surprised us two days later by singing happily in her hospital bed.

I have a friend that I met in the seventh grade. His name is George Suvall. He has been a very successful basketball coach and trainer. He is also a homespun philosopher. Periodically I see him out walking near where we live. We stop to chat. George reported his family had come from Greece when he was very young. At first, because they didn’t speak English in the home, George did not know how to read or write English very well. He was able to keep most of it a secret. An insightful teacher, because she cared and noticed that he was always trying to do his best, rescued him. One day his father was attempting to explain the importance of doing the best you can to George and said, “Hey, George, if you gonna be anything, you be the best anything you can be.” His father knew that in America if you do the best you can, you will succeed.
Then his father said, “Georgie, there are two-a-things you cannot-a buy. It’s a your-a-name and your-a-health. Take-a-care of them both.” Those few words provided a personal philosophy George still follows.

First: Do the best you can.
Second: Protect your name.
Third: Guard your health.

That was the case for my wife and I when we married, got through 4 years of Phd education and work and got a job straight out of my program that provided for us through the first two of our great kids. We had our problems, like everyone, but we were cruising, and we knew that our faith would carry us through whatever came. There are many references in the scriptures to light. The majority of these references are in relation to our Saviour Jesus Christ. Christ said to the Nephites, “Behold I am the light; I have set an example for you” (3 Nephi 18:16) and to those in Jerusalem, “I am the light of the world” (John 8:12). We figured we were living in that light, and that would mean a string of joy with a few minor problems like a B on a report card, a broken transmission occasionally, or a child who didn’t get into the ivy league college he or she wanted, but nothing we couldn’t handle. Any of you who know my wife will know that she is a happy person. People comment on it. For most of her life, my wife was the sort of person about whom the apostle might have been speaking when he said, “Ye are the children of light.” She naturally carries a light about her, and that is the result of her relationship with her savior. That was for the most part our situation at that point in our lives. We were prospering in the land.

Then in April of 2009, our third child, Mathew, was born. The excitement of a new child carried us through the first few months of sleeplessness, sibling rivalry, and other transitions, but then something changed. Something inside of her changed. The hope and joy that brought light into her life dimmed. As the months went on, she found herself in complete darkness. For the first time she began to doubt, to wonder and to question, and she began to stumble. She had never really questioned her faith or the direction God was taking her life, but for the first time, she did. Everything she held close: her family, faith, confidence, joy, crumbled away, leaving her feeling alone, disconnected, and unsure. She often couldn’t feel anything or only sadness and despair when she did, and she certainly couldn’t find any light. This lasted years and while it has gotten less it hasn’t really ever left, but over time my wife has learned an important lesson, and she has brought me along: even when there is darkness, that darkness doesn’t have to become the focus of our lives.

In President Uchtdorf’s April 2013 General Conference talk he describes a painting in his office entitled “Entrance to Enlightenment”. President Uchtdorf states, “The painting shows a dark room with an open door from which light is shining. It is interesting to me that the light coming through the door does not illuminate the entire room -- only the space immediately in front of the door.” He continues by saying, “To me, the darkness and light in this painting are a metaphor for life. It is part of our condition as mortal beings to sometimes feel as though we are surrounded by darkness . . . but even though we may feel lost in the midst of our current circumstances, God promises the hope of His light -- He promises to illuminate the way before us and show us the way out of darkness.”

God will illuminate one step at a time if we turn to him. He is there wanting to show the way, but it is up to us to decide if we’re willing to trust in him that the next step we take will take us one step away from our darkness and one step closer to his light. For my wife some steps were a constant stream of prayers to get her through just a part of a day, one small act of service for her family or someone else, making sure to read her scriptures even if it was just one verse, a conference talk at just the right time, especially those by Elder Holland. A few years later after renovations and rededication were complete she was able to attend the temple, one more small moment of light to help her see at least the next step. Other steps came to be going for a run to help clear her mind or hiding in her room to read a book or sleep, and other activities she could do by herself to help calm her mind. One step at a time and slowly, with a lot of help and patience from her family and her Heavenly Father, she was able to find a time when her steps were more in God’s light than in her darkness. “He that followeth me,” the savior said, “shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life.”

Sharon bent her head over her spelling words and tried to ignore the excited chatter all over the classroom. Field day! That’s all anybody talks about anymore, she thought angrily. And what fun is field day for me when my legs don’t work?
How she hated the wheelchair that prevented her from doing all the things she wanted to do. She had to stop thinking about it though because when she did, she would also think about the accident. Then she would get all shaky remembering the car rolling over and over and the feeling afterward when her legs wouldn’t move anymore.
What can I do on field day? she wondered. Just sit on the sidelines while all the rest run and jump and win ribbons! Last year Karen, her twin, had been her field day partner, and they had won two blue ribbons. And Sharon had even placed second in the sack race. But this year … well, she would pretend to be sick that day. That would certainly be a lot easier than sitting on the sidelines and pretending she didn’t care.
"You can’t be sick!" Karen pleaded that morning. "It’s field day and you have to go!"
"I can’t," Sharon whispered. "I feel just awful."
Mom came and felt her forehead. "No fever," she said.
Sharon felt that Mom knew she was telling a lie, and then she really did feel awful. She had never told Mom a lie before, but she just couldn’t sit on the sidelines and watch everyone else having a great time.
"But I ache all over, Mom. I don’t think I’d better go to school today."
Sharon lay there feeling guilty. She could hear Mom in the kitchen telling Karen she wouldn’t be able to go see her in the competition after all, and she could hear Karen’s disappointment when she said, "That’s OK, Mom."
Sharon hated to disappoint Karen. Her sister had been just great since the accident. She had carried her piggyback many times so Sharon could go out and join the other kids in their games. No, I can’t let her down, she decided. She loves field day as much as I always did. And it wouldn’t be fair to make Mom stay home either.
The classroom was a frenzy of activity when they arrived. And before she knew it, Sharon was out on the field with the rest of the school, where Miss Sims was calling out the events—"Sixty-meter dash!"
Sharon’s whole class was in that one except for her, and she felt embarrassed to just sit there while all the rest were on the field waiting for the starting whistle. She looked around for Mom and spotted her across the field, sitting with several other parents. They all looked excited and proud as they pointed out their children. Somehow that made Sharon feel worse than ever.
"Go!"
The runners were off and Sharon heard herself yelling along with everybody else. "Go, Karen! Go!"
The next event was the three-legged race, and Sharon couldn’t hide her tears when she saw her sister team up with another girl. But everyone was too busy cheering and shouting to notice her crying.
Sharon didn’t yell much after that. She watched with scant interest the sack race, walk race, wheelbarrow race, and the slowpoke race. But then suddenly Karen was beside her, her face red from the heat and the excitement.
"Come on, Sharon. We’re next!"
Miss Sims picked Sharon up out of the wheelchair and the next thing she knew she was on her sister’s back, hanging on for dear life as they sped onto the field. "Karen, you’ll drop me!" she cried.
"No I won’t, “Karen called over her shoulder. "I carry you piggyback at home, don’t I? Now just hold on, silly. We’re partners for the piggyback race, and we’re going to win the blue ribbon!"
The whistle blew. "Go!"
The racers ran across the field and Sharon held on for all she was worth. "Go, Karen!" she shouted. "We’re ahead! Run! Run!"
Sharon could see Mom jumping up and down on the edge of the field and could hear her cheering for them. But as they neared the finish line, Laura Kendle and Elaine Coughty edged past them to finish first. As they crossed the line second, Karen eased Sharon into her chair, panting. "Whew! Well, we came in second anyway."
"You came in second," muttered Sharon. "You ran. I only rode!" Her twin looked at her understandingly and didn’t say anything as they accepted their red ribbons.
Sharon knew she hadn’t done anything herself. Karen had earned the ribbons for them, but she had participated in field day, and she could not help but be just a little bit proud of their ribbons.
"OK! Softball throw."
"Come on, Sharon," Miss Sims called. "You’re in this event."
One of the boys pushed her chair out onto the field, and Sharon’s heart began to beat a little faster. She had been pitching to Ricky, the little boy next door, who was trying out for Little League, so she knew she was pretty good with a softball. Her heart was pounding like a trip-hammer. When her turn came, Sharon held the ball for a moment and then threw it with all the strength she could muster.
"Wow!" the children all murmured appreciatively and watched as Miss Sims checked the distance. Then, consulting the figures on her clipboard, she announced, "First place! Sharon Sullivan. Second place …"
But Sharon didn’t hear who won second or third place, because Karen was giving her a bear hug, and all the other boys and girls were crowding around to congratulate her. She had won a blue ribbon and she had done it herself.
"But I really didn’t think I would be in field day at all this year," she told Miss Sims as she accepted her ribbon.
"Why, Sharon Sullivan! You know everyone participates in field day. ‘All students must participate in field day.’ That’s what it says in the rules. Right?" Then she smiled. "Congratulations!"
Sharon smiled back. And although she couldn’t explain how or why she thought so, she knew that something important had happened to her. Somehow she didn’t feel like "just a girl in a wheelchair" anymore. Wonderingly, she said half aloud, "I’m still Sharon Sullivan."
"Well, of course," said one of the boys. "That’s who you’ve been all along! But now you’re also the winner of a blue ribbon!"

Elder Fyans recalled another story, related to him by his daughter, Kathy, regarding her son, Robbie: “Recently Robbie came home later than usual from school. The principal had called his mother to tell her that her son had been detained at school that day. She asked the principal what the problem was and was told that Robbie would tell her about it when he got home. When Robbie came home, he went straight to his room, and his mother decided to just wait for a while to see if he would come and talk to her. After some time, when Robbie still hadn’t come out of his room, she decided to see if he were all right. He said that he was.

“Later that evening Robbie admitted to his mother that he and a friend had thrown some wet paper towels at the ceiling of the rest room at school and they had stuck there. The custodian took the boys to see the principal, and that was why Robbie had been late.

“‘What do the letters CTR stand for on the ring you’re wearing?’ his mother asked Robbie. ‘Choose the Right,’ he told her. She then asked him if he thought that throwing wet towels on the ceiling had been a right choice. He said, ‘No.’ A discussion followed about what kind of punishment he should receive for his misbehavior, besides the fact that he had been kept late at school. Robbie thought it over for a while and then told her that he felt he should be grounded for a week. After thinking it over a little longer, he decided that maybe he should also pay for the towels that had been wasted. The sum of one dollar was decided upon as a fair amount. Robbie wondered if he should take the money out of his missionary bank. However, his mother explained to him that payment had to come out of his spending money to make it right.

“The next morning Robbie and his mother took his dollar and went to school together. Robbie apologized, not only to the principal, but also to the custodian. Even though it was difficult for him to do, Robbie made the decision to repent as fully as he could for what he had done. He was able to ‘choose the right’ and make it right.”

I was born and reared in China and served as a soldier there. Later, while living in Taiwan, I learned about Jesus Christ and was baptized by a Protestant missionary from northern Europe. For the next 42 years, I was an active advocate of Christianity and a leader in my church.
Although I held to my Christian beliefs, over time I became disenchanted with my church and began searching elsewhere for the truth. So when two Latter-day Saint missionaries knocked on my door in September 1993, I was happy to let them in. Sister Nelson and Sister Shao explained the message of the Book of Mormon, and I accepted a copy of the book. But my mind was in turmoil because I had heard many attacks against this “Mormon” Church. The sisters spent two hours resolving my concerns.
On their next visit they invited me to attend services with them. I entered their rented building in Lungtan Taoyuan for the first time in late September. Among other things, I learned that they also believed in the Bible! This discovery sent me hurrying home between meetings to retrieve my scriptures.
The following Sunday the sisters came again, accompanied by two young men named Elder Roser and Elder Bearman. One of the first topics the elders discussed with me was that the Father and the Son had appeared to Joseph Smith in answer to his prayer about which church to join. We read much of the account aloud, including this verse:
“I was answered that I must join none of [the existing churches], for they were all wrong; and the Personage who addressed me said that all their creeds were an abomination in his sight; that those professors were all corrupt; that: ‘they draw near to me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me, they teach for doctrines the commandments of men, having a form of godliness, but they deny the power thereof’” (JS—H 1:19).
These words resonated deep inside me, and the Spirit was very strong. I looked up from reading the passage and said simply, “It is true.”
The elders next taught me about the Apostasy, the Restoration of the Church, and the restoration of priesthood authority. But when they invited me to be baptized, I was shocked. I had been baptized many years before, also by immersion. Being baptized again seemed unnecessary; it felt like a betrayal of my former beliefs.
The elders made me promise to pray about the importance of being baptized by someone with authority. Then they left. Without my knowledge, they began to fast for me that very day, praying for me to understand the importance of being baptized by proper authority.
The elders were surprised and delighted when I announced at one of our next discussions that I wanted to be baptized a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. My soul was filled with joy on that day. “God has answered my prayers,” I told them, “and I know it is God’s will for me to be baptized.” They excitedly began to plan for the ordinance to take place on 14 November 1993.
Going into the waters of baptism and being confirmed a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints were beautiful and sublime experiences. When the events of the day were over, I tried to express to the elders how I felt. “I have walked with the Lord for more than 40 years,” I told them, “and now, today, I am finally a member of his Church!”

Growing up, I had the opportunity to search for the answer in many churches. As I did, I got more and more confused. Everybody contradicted each other, and they would just gloss over my questions about the nature of God.
Years later, tired of searching, I said, “There is no answer.”
I began to do things that some modern youth do, such as partying and participating in a lot of worldly diversions. Each week I sank further and further into darkness because my decisions weren’t the best. The bad habits were also distancing me from my family, who had always supported me.
But once again the desire came to me to ask God. I prayed, “Father, I am here waiting. I have searched, and I have not found. The scriptures promise answers, but nothing is coming. Look at me. I am alone. I want to know, but I don’t know how to find You.”
At that time only—not before and not after, but just when I needed it—I felt that my chest burned as strong as if a volcano were inside of me. I couldn’t control the tears. I knew it was an answer to my question.

On the Sunday before Christmas, we came home from church and one of the dogs in our neighborhood was ripping up our neighbor’s trash bags and chewing on the trash. My sister Emily and I scared the dog away, and then we cleaned up the trash without being asked. We were glad we cleaned up the trash because it would have been everywhere in the wind! We both felt good inside afterward because we did the right thing and served our neighbors.

Later, while trying to get a transport to the chapel, I used the full name of the Church to direct the driver to where we were going. I was careful not to omit “Jesus Christ.”
I was surprised when the driver told us he didn’t know the place. When my companion asked the man if he had heard of the LDS Church, he said, “Yes.”
Because we had been saying “Mormons” and “LDS” all along, people did not recognize the full name of the Church. I resolved to pray that we members of the Church would realize our mistake. While thinking about this, I remembered the prophet. I understood that only the prophet can speak for the Lord to the whole world, so if a change was going to happen, it would need to come from him.
But I thought to myself, “How is this even possible? Even the Church’s website is abbreviated ‘LDS.org.’ How will that be changed?”
In our prayers, we earnestly pleaded with Heavenly Father to inspire His servant, the prophet, to guide us in this important matter. I had faith that God truly does reveal His will to His prophet.
I was scheduled to be released from the Nigeria Benin City Mission in September 2018. But my release date was changed to October—the same October that President Russell M. Nelson gave an important message to the worldwide Church:
“For much of the world, the Lord’s Church is presently disguised as the ‘Mormon Church.’ But we as members of the Lord’s Church know who stands at its head: Jesus Christ Himself. …
“… The rest of the world may or may not follow our lead in calling us by the correct name. But it is disingenuous for us to be frustrated if most of the world calls the Church and its members by the wrong names if we do the same.”1
You can’t imagine how surprised and happy I was! President Nelson’s message was so clear, and I felt that our prayers had been answered. I was grateful beyond words.
This experience added to my testimony that prayers are answered and that Heavenly Father does inspire His prophets. That this is the Lord’s Church, and that He knows what to do in His Church. Even the Church’s website, which I thought wasn’t possible to change, was updated to ChurchofJesusChrist.org.
I know that President Nelson is called of God. I also know that the Prophet Joseph Smith did not name the Church that was restored through him. Neither did Mormon. It was the Savior Himself who said, “For thus shall my church be called in the last days, even The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints” (Doctrine and Covenants 115:4).

He moved in with his older brother, and during that year, found a job as an electronics technician in a local business. The dreams of his higher education were beginning to come true.
With no organized Church unit in Libreville, Gabin held unofficial meetings on Sundays and family home evenings on Mondays at his home. Some friends and a few family members attended with interest. Gabin would teach from the Book of Mormon and they would watch 2004 general conference sessions.
Throughout this time, Internet services inside Gabon were unreliable and costly—and accessing websites outside the country was almost impossible. From time to time, Gabin was able to access Church websites and download a general conference talk or two. These he would print out and add to his Sunday “lesson plans”.
In 2008, he met Fleur and fell deeply in love. Gabin remembers, “I found a girl!” Fleur had a daughter, Eve, and he fell in love with her, too. Fleur and Eve usually attended a local Protestant congregation, but throughout their courtship, he taught them missionary lessons. They started attending his Sunday meetings and family home evenings on Mondays. Gabin and Fleur were married in 2013 in a civil ceremony.
At the beginning of 2014, Gabin found an article online reporting that Elder David A. Bednar, of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, had a few months earlier been in Libreville. It was just after the Gabonese government had officially recognized the Church and had permitted the beginning of missionary activities. Elder Bednar had dedicated the country of Gabon for the preaching of the gospel and he had organized the Libreville Branch. Gabin was stunned. For more than eight years he had likely been the only endowed member of the Church living in Gabon and suddenly there was a branch organized in his home city.
Using an email address found in the article, Gabin wrote to the Africa Southeast Area office, asking questions about the Church situation in Libreville. Elie Monga, president of the Brazzaville mission in the Republic of Congo, was informed and a few days later, while at work, Gabin received a visit from Elder Michael Moody, the first senior missionary to serve in Gabon.
After their initial greeting, Gabin said to Elder Moody, “I have a few questions. First, where can I pay my tithing?” For more than eight years, Gabin had carefully kept his tithing money in a small box.
“Second,” he asked, “Where can I buy new temple garments? Eight years ago, I brought a few to Libreville, and every night since I have been carefully hand washing them.” Elder Moody went to the car, opened his suitcase, and gave Gabin a brand-new pair of garments that he had been prompted to pack in his travel case that morning.
The next Sunday, Gabin, Fleur, Eve, Gabin’s nephew Yann, plus Annaïck and Pauline, Fleur’s nieces were six of the ten people sitting in the Libreville Branch sacrament meeting. Fleur was taught the missionary lessons and shortly afterward was baptized and confirmed a member of the Church. And so were Eve, Yann, Annaïck, and Pauline.
In 2015, Gabin adopted Eve. And later that year the three of them—Gabin, Fleur, and Eve—flew to Johannesburg, South Africa, where this unlikely story concludes with significant eternal consequences. Fleur received her endowment, she and Gabin were sealed together, and Eve was sealed to them both in the Johannesburg South Africa Temple.
In 2016, Elie Monga, president of the Republic of Congo Brazzaville Mission, travelled to Libreville to preside over a division of the Libreville Branch. Gabin Mendene was called to serve as president of the Libreville 2nd Branch. Shortly afterward, while attending district conference, Elder Kevin S. Hamilton—former Brussels Belgium mission president and now a General Authority Seventy and president of the Africa Southeast Area—looked out from his seat on the rostrum. And sitting there in the middle of the congregation was someone he had not seen in ten years—a patient man with an extraordinary conversion story and a church pioneer in Africa—Gabin from Gabon.

In middle school, other kids commonly question me about why I don’t date, drink coffee or tea, or cuss. Sometimes they even tease me. One way I deal with this is to tell them about my standards and what I believe in. There is so much sin and profanity everywhere that it is hard to avoid being teased or asked why you don’t participate in it. I answer that I am a Mormon and live by high standards. For example, when I am asked why I don’t drink coffee, I explain that I live by the Word of Wisdom and want to keep my life free from addiction. Usually after explaining my standards, people are understanding and willing to believe me.
Elijah S., 14, Washington, USA

President Clark: When I was about four years old, my mother took me shopping in downtown Salt Lake City. While my mother was shopping, I wandered off to explore the store. Very soon I was lost. I can still remember what I felt. I was frightened and worried and very sad. I must have started to cry because one of the clerks found me. It was not long before I saw my mother coming for me.
As my mother held me in her arms, feelings of happiness and joy flooded my little boy heart and soul. I was just a small child, but the Lord blessed me with a taste of the joy and happiness of heaven in my mother's love and in the safety of her arms.

Two days after David got home from his mission, he went to the fitness center his family had joined while he’d been away. An hour later, after working out and taking a shower, he stood with a towel wrapped around him, in front of a mirror. He began to blow-dry his hair. A guy his age approached the mirror, spread shaving cream on himself and began to shave his chest with a razor.

David had never seen anyone shave their chest before—he couldn’t help but stare.

The guy noticed David in the mirror. “How’s it going?” he asked. He turned around and stuck out his hand. “Brad Eppley here. Commodity trading.”

They shook hands. “I’m David Warner.”

“David, great to meet you. I notice you’ve got hair on your chest. The only reason I mention it is because most of the guys in the club shave their chests.”

“I didn’t have hair on my chest when I was 12. So why is a hairless chest such a big advantage now?”

Brad flexed and glanced at his reflection. “Shows muscle definition. And girls love it. With girls, appearance is everything. You know, like the kind of car you have. By the way, what do you drive?”

“A ’78 Pontiac.”

“That ugly green bomb that’s dripping oil all over the parking lot is yours? What do you do, wear a mask when you get into it so nobody will know who you are?”

“It’s not so bad. It gets me around.”

“Yeah, like that’s really the purpose of a car. You seem so out of it. When’s the last time you went out with a girl?”

“It’s been two years.”

Brad threw up his hands. “Well, there you have it! I’m not surprised.”

“The reason I haven’t dated for two years is because I’ve been on a mission for my church.”

“Are you a Mormon?”

“Yes, I am.”

“How much do they pay you to do that?”

“I paid my own way.”

“Why would you do a thing like that?”

“It was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“You want to know what I’ve accomplished in the last two years? Plenty, I’ll tell you. Right now I drive a BMW, I live in the best condo in town, I’ve got the best sound system they make, I go out with the best looking girls. And what have you got to show for your two years?”

“I’m grateful for the experiences I had.”

“What kind of experiences?”

“Having my prayers answered, knowing that Heavenly Father loved the people we were working with.”

“Well, that’s all fine and good, but tell me this, can you deposit experiences like that in a bank?”

“No, but I wouldn’t trade my mission for any amount of money.”

“Look, no offense intended, but maybe you’re not really right for this club. I mean, there’s plenty of other places to work out where you’d feel more comfortable. Like outside, for example, where all those biblical things are—you know, like animals and flowers, things like that. I mean it’s just a thought.”

“You may be right. Is everyone here like you?”

“No, not everybody. For me, though, this club is perfect. They’re open every day of the year, even Christmas. Okay, I admit it, I’m a little on the compulsive side. I come here every day. I have a routine—Monday, abs; Tuesdays, pects …”

“Abs?”

“Abdominal muscles. Pects is pectoral muscles. You don’t get around much, do you? By the way, do Mormons have monasteries? I mean, if they do, you’d be perfect. Well, anyway, I come here every day. If I miss one day I really feel it. Like the time my aunt died. They made me go to the funeral. Yeah, this is a great place. Cheyenne and I come every day. You might have noticed her. You can’t help noticing her. But don’t get any ideas. I’m the man of her dreams, the key to her heart and, really, if you think about it, the hope of her future.”

“Well, good for her. Excuse me.” David went into the locker room to get dressed.

Brad finished shaving his chest, wiped off the excess shaving cream with a towel, and then smeared a white cream on his chest. He came out to talk to David. “You want to know why I’m doing this now?” he asked.

David sighed. “Well, not really, but go ahead.”

“To rid myself of razor stubble. Let me tell you, it’s a big problem. You put on your shirt and it’s like having sandpaper on your chest. This cream is supposed to take care of that. It’s the first time I tried it. Wish me luck.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Just as David was about to leave, Brad suddenly yelled, “Aaaah!” He rushed into the locker room area. “I’m having some kind of allergic reaction! My whole chest is on fire. I’m going to take another shower to get this stuff off me. Look, can you go find Cheyenne and tell her what I’m going through. Tell her not to worry about me though. She’ll be in the snack bar drinking a large tomato juice. That’s all she ever drinks.”

It was easy for David to find Cheyenne. Brad was right—she was beautiful and she was drinking a large tomato juice.

“I have a message from the man of your dreams,” David said, trying to keep a straight face.

“I don’t dream much actually. Sometimes though, when I have a pepperoni pizza late at night, I have a recurring nightmare.”

“By any chance is your nightmare about a guy with an absolutely hairless chest?”

She laughed. “How did you know?”

“I met him. He told me to tell you he was having a reaction to the cream he put on his chest to get rid of razor stubble.”

“Poor baby,” she snickered. She pointed to a full glass of tomato juice on the other side of the table. “You want some tomato juice? I ordered one for Brad, but it looks like he’ll be a while.”

“You might not want to be seen with me.”

“Why’s that?”

“See that car out there? It’s mine.”

“You’ve been around Brad too much. Sit down and drink the tomato juice.”

He sat down and took a sip. “This is the first time I’ve been alone with a girl for two years.”

She looked worried. “What were you in for?”

“In for?”

“You don’t look like the armed robbery type. And with that car of yours it couldn’t have been auto theft.”

“I wasn’t in prison.”

“Sorry. What were you doing for two years?”

“I was a missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.”

“The Mormons, right? That sounds like a nice thing to do. What was it like?”

He told her about his mission and then said, “I’m really grateful for the experiences I had.”

She looked up from her tomato juice. “You’re the first guy I’ve met who said he was grateful for anything. What are you grateful for? What did you get out of your mission?”

“I found out what’s really important in life?”

“Which is?”

“The people we meet every day are important.”

“Why?”

“Because every one of them is our brother or our sister.”

“That makes you my brother then, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.”

She gave him a teasing smile, but then looked into his eyes, recognized something very deep and serious, became uncomfortable, and looked away.

They talked for another 20 minutes, until Brad came in and sat down. “You still here?” he asked David.

“I asked him to stay,” Cheyenne said. “I’ve never met anyone like him before.”

“Is that right? Well, you should see his chest. It’s an absolute hairy mess I’ll tell you.”

“Why do you think I care about things like that? It doesn’t mean a thing to me.”

“Well thanks a lot, after I slave all day. What’s this guy got that I don’t have?”

“Gratitude. You have everything a guy could want, but I’ve never heard you say you were grateful for any of it.”

“Hey, look, everything I’ve got is like teetering on the edge of a huge cliff and any moment it can all be swept away. I have to keep fighting just to stay where I am. There’s no time for gratitude in my life.”

“Are you grateful that I came into your life?”

He paused. “It’s not like you don’t get anything from our relationship. I’ve introduced you to some very influential people.”

“Are you grateful for anything?” Cheyenne asked.

“I’d be grateful if you’d quit talking about this.”

There was an uneasy silence. “I’d better go,” David said.

“Let me walk you to your car,” she said.

“Don’t even go near that car,” Brad said. “What if somebody sees you?”

“I’ll take my chances.”

David and Cheyenne walked out to his car. “Beautiful sunset,” he said.

They stopped to look at the sunset. “You find something every day to be grateful for, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Even when things are going bad?”

“There’s always something to be grateful for.” He opened his car door. “I’d better go.”

“What if sometime I decide I want a little more gratitude in my life? What would I have to do?”

“You could start by coming to church with me.”

“That doesn’t sound too hard.”

“I could come by for you this Sunday.”

“Actually I think it’d be better if I drove myself. Brad gets kind of crazy with jealousy sometimes.”

“Yeah, sure. Church starts at nine. Do you know where it is?”

“I pass by it every day on my way to work.”

“I’ll wait for you at the door.”

Brad came running out. “We need to go now. Get in the car.”

“See you.” She turned and walked toward Brad’s BMW. “Brad, did you notice the sunset?”

“What about it?”

“It’s beautiful.”

“It’s not like I’ve never seen a sunset before. I mean, it happens every day.”

“I think today I will choose to be grateful for a sunset.”

“How can you talk about sunsets when my chest is still on fire?” They got in the car and drove off. David stayed a minute more to look at the sunset, and then he drove home.

The first vignette is Brigham Young’s arrival in the Salt Lake Valley in 1847, as described by President Gordon B. Hinckley (1910–2008): “No plow had even broken its soil. [Brigham Young] knew nothing of its fertility, nothing of the seasons, the weather, the frost, the severity of the winters, the possibility of insect plagues. [Early explorers] Jim Bridger and Miles Goodyear had nothing good to say concerning this place. Sam Brannan pleaded with him to go on to California. He listened to none of them. He led his people to this hot and what must have appeared as a very forlorn place. When he arrived, he looked across this broad expanse to the salt lake in the west and said, ‘This is the right place.’”8

That’s the second time Steve has looked in the door. I move the carpet cleaning machine a bit more quickly. I rationalize that no one will know if this corner isn’t soaped quite as thoroughly as the rest of the room.
It’s only my second day cleaning apartments on my own at my new carpet cleaning job, and I haven’t quite got the hang of running power vacuums yet. I know that everyone else has been finished for at least 20 minutes. They are waiting to return to our office where we can take a break. I’m eager to make a good impression and prove I can keep up with the crew.
The large vacuum scuttles across the floor as I move the wand back and forth. The mist of diluted soap that sprays out as I squeeze the lever on the handle now only sparsely covers the floor.
I see a shadow on the wall and turn around. It’s Gary this time.
“You almost done?”
“Yeah, there’s just this room left. Give me five minutes.”
He nods, and I carefully move the machine around the bed and allow my mind to wander. I run down a mental checklist of things I need to do when I get home. I have homework to finish for my Book of Mormon class tomorrow. I think about what my teacher said yesterday. It was something I’ve never thought about before. He said that most people usually think of Laman and Lemuel only as evil men who caused all sorts of problems for Nephi. But a part of the story we often overlook is that Laman and Lemuel did return to Jerusalem and they did help build the ship. In fact, they ended up doing almost everything the Lord commanded. The biggest difference between them and Nephi was that Nephi obeyed God willingly. Laman and Lemuel obeyed reluctantly out of fear.
I stop the carpet cleaning machine and look down at the chocolate-colored carpet uneasily, feeling the truth of my teacher’s statement that too often we are more like Laman and Lemuel than we would like to believe. Slowly, I move the vacuum back to the door and begin cleaning the room again, this time crossing the room in slow, thorough sweeps.
Completely cleaning that carpet was just a little thing, but it represented a much bigger one—my renewed commitment to maintain complete integrity in all my dealings, including on the job.

Elder Lund leaves soon for his mission. He told us, “I worked at a dry cleaner for two years. I found the position when I took a buddy to his interview. He told the lady he couldn’t take the job because of the hours but that I could. I did. I worked the cash register, took in dirty clothes, and gave out the clean ones. I also cleaned up after closing. When I started the job I was very shy. I learned to speak up and explain things to people. I gained a lot of confidence. Now I don’t have trouble communicating with people.
“My brother and I bought broken lawn mowers, repaired them, and sold them for a profit. We didn’t have to spend money for parts. They just needed our mechanical knowledge.
“I put my money into a savings account. I recommend everyone use a savings account. But give the bankbook to your mom so you can’t take the money out again. You need to start early in life to save because you can’t cram in the last few months like you might for a test.”

His humility also brings him close to the Lord. I can tell this experience because he expanded upon it in general conference in 1989 (see David B. Haight, “The Sacrament—and the Sacrifice,” Ensign, November 1989). I had interviewed him at his office, gathered my notes, and had my hand on the door to leave. Suddenly he stood and with a faraway look described the details of the Lord’s Last Supper as if he were there. When he finished, I slipped out, thinking, “I have heard an apostle of the Lord speak as in vision.”

Before the rededication of the São Paulo Brazil Temple in 2004, the temple doors were opened to many notable leaders from government, business, and education. As I accompanied a highly respected, elected leader through the temple, I noticed that his attention was acutely focused. It wasn’t until we reached a sealing room at the end of our visit that I fully understood why.
In a solemn tone he said to me: “Mr. Andersen, I want to tell you something about my family. My oldest son passed away five years ago at age 35 of cancer. In his final months he could find no peace. He was nervous, distraught, and concerned about his family, his life, and what was ahead of him. Knowing of my son’s situation, a friend of mine who is a member of the Church shared with me a copy of the Book of Mormon and suggested I share it with my son.
“It was a miracle to me to see the effect of that book on my son. He devoured it. He wrote notes and thoughts in the margins. His concerns and anxieties disappeared. In reading the Book of Mormon he found enormous peace. When he died, the book was next to him. I am so thankful for the peace it brought to him.”

Many missionaries open their mission call surrounded by family and friends. I opened mine all alone in a potato field. I was a student at Ricks College (which later became Brigham Young University–Idaho). We didn’t have social media or the internet back then, and I was away from my family. So I went into the field, offered a prayer, and opened the letter.
“You are called to labor in the Ohio Cleveland Mission,” it said. I thought it was especially sweet that Kirtland, Ohio, was part of the mission, though I didn’t understand its significance at that time.
My first assignment was the Ashtabula Ward, part of the Kirtland stake. On our way to my first area, my companion, Elder Shawn Patrick Murphy, and I stopped at the Newel K. Whitney store in Kirtland. Today there is a large visitors’ center there, but at the time it was a small place. I remember walking up the stairs to the room above the store where Joseph Smith held the School of the Prophets. I knew little of the history of the place, but I still felt something distinct as we entered that plain room with its simple wooden benches.
The director of the center was a former mission president, President Brewer. As he spoke about this place where the Brethren studied and learned together, I felt the Spirit deeply. I began to see the role Kirtland played as a hinge point in the history of the Church.
In the early 1830s, Independence, Missouri, was identified as the site of the New Jerusalem. The Saints had begun to settle there. But they were then forced out because of differences with other Missouri residents and opposition to the Saints’ beliefs. In 1834, Joseph organized a group of about 230 men, women, and children, later known as Zion’s Camp. They were to travel 900 miles (1,450 km) from Ohio to Missouri to help the Saints regain land they had legally purchased. The journey was not successful in getting the land back, but it created a setting that helped prepare many future leaders of the Church, including Church Presidents Brigham Young and Wilford Woodruff.
It wasn’t just the preparation of leaders that was important. The sanctifying effect of Zion’s Camp prepared a people who were willing to sacrifice to build a temple.
In Kirtland, the Prophet received revelation after revelation about the organization of the Church, all in preparation for what would be the crowning achievement—the building of the temple.1 And sacrifice literally brought forth the blessings of heaven.2 The Saints were so poor they could hardly afford the necessities of life. Yet they consecrated their time, talents, and possessions—the very covenant we make in the temple today—to build the house of the Lord.
Today the Kirtland Temple is owned and maintained by another church—the Community of Christ. When a guide from that church took us through the building, I felt the Spirit as he quoted from journals of those who witnessed marvelous events at the temple’s dedication. These events included seeing angels and the temple seeming to be ablaze with light.3 The Spirit confirmed to me that this had indeed been a house of God.
I served in the Ashtabula Ward for seven months. Almost every preparation day, we took those we were teaching to visit the Newel K. Whitney store and talk about the Kirtland Temple. Many times we recited the inspiring account of Christ’s appearance at the temple:
The Lord Appears in the Kirtland Temple, by Del Parson
“His eyes were as a flame of fire; the hair of his head was white like the pure snow; his countenance shone above the brightness of the sun; and his voice was as the sound of the rushing of great waters, even the voice of Jehovah, saying:
“I am the first and the last; I am he who liveth, I am he who was slain; I am your advocate with the Father” (Doctrine and Covenants 110:3–4).
In addition to the Savior, others also visited the temple—Moses, Elias, and Elijah. They committed to Joseph keys for the gathering of Israel, the dispensation of the gospel of Abraham, and temple and family history work. (See Doctrine and Covenants 110:10–16.)
Because these visitations are so significant, I think we sometimes overlook the significance of other things that also occurred. In the dedicatory prayer, Joseph Smith addressed the Lord God of Israel, “who keepest covenant and showest mercy,” and pleaded with the Lord to “accept the dedication of this house unto thee, the work of our hands, which we have built unto thy name” (Doctrine and Covenants 109:1, 78).
By appearing in answer to that prayer, Jesus Christ, as the mouthpiece of God the Father, showed that He accepted His house, the ordinances that would be performed there, and the covenants that would be made there. That acceptance has been granted to every temple that has been dedicated since then, as well as to the covenants made and ordinances performed in those temples.
In the dedicatory prayer, Joseph also specifically asked the Lord to bless those who served in presidencies, as well as their families. Today, those blessings are extended to Relief Society presidents, quorum presidents, Young Women presidents, stake presidents, mission presidents, and so on. (See Doctrine and Covenants 109:71.) Then Joseph asked the Lord to “remember all thy church, O Lord, with all their families … that thy church may come forth out of the wilderness of darkness, and shine forth” (Doctrine and Covenants 109:72–73).
Joseph sought specific blessings for presidencies and their families, for members and their families, and for the Church as a whole. We regularly witness the fulfillment of those blessings as the Church shines forth as a light in the darkness.
The dedication of the Kirtland Temple exemplifies for me three basic truths:
We are blessed when we prepare for the temple. The Saints had to prepare for the Kirtland Temple to be built. They had to sacrifice, purify themselves, and develop willing hearts. We need to do the same to become more ready to receive blessings the Lord has for us.
We can receive revelation in the house of the Lord. The visions given to Joseph Smith and Oliver Cowdery in the Kirtland Temple provided guidance, direction, and understanding. On a personal level, we can also find inspiration when we go to the temple seeking answers.
We can find refuge in the temple. In a time of persecution and poverty, the Saints in Kirtland found that the house of the Lord was a sanctuary from the worries surrounding them. The same is true for us today.
Over the years, I have found that the things I learned about the temple as a young missionary in Ohio have blessed my family and me. For example, in the temple a year after we were married, my wife, Amy, and I received an impression that it was time to have a child. We were students, and because of tight finances I was tempted to cast the prompting aside. But the Lord was preparing us.
We had three miscarriages over the next two years, and I wondered, “Why the prompting to have children if we’re not able to have them?” Then we moved to California, worked with a fertility specialist, and finally had our first child, Mackenzie.
By following the inspiration we received in the temple, we began a process that took three years. If we had not followed the prompting when we did, it would probably have been at least another three years before we had our first child. We count that experience as a blessing of preparation and revelation.
We had a second child, Emma, but then we had another miscarriage and the loss of our son, Stewart. In subsequent months and years, as we sought peace, we learned that most of the symbols in the temple point us to the Savior and the healing balm only His Atonement can give.
I am grateful for the blessings of the temple. I testify to you that it is a place of preparation, revelation, and peace.

In 1998, when I was Young Men president in my ward, I participated in a stake youth camp. As I was resting after a game, I saw a young man I didn’t know. He was sitting alone on a little mound away from the camp. He had an unpleasant expression on his face. I felt I needed to go over and talk to him.
I introduced myself and asked his name. I don’t remember all that we talked about, but I do remember that I shed a few tears. It was a special conversation that lasted until they called us to the next activity. I rarely saw the young man after that and never had another chance to talk to him.
In August 2005 we had a meeting at our stake center. This same young man came up to me and gave me a letter. It read:
I started thinking today about our conversation in San Martin Park in about 1998. Just to remind you, I was sitting by myself and feeling a bit sad. You came up to me and said you felt you needed to talk to me. You said … the time had come to choose—either to stay with the Church and follow Jesus Christ or leave it and not enjoy the blessings that come from activity in the Church. The one thing that really stayed with me was when you said that if I fell, my whole family would fall with me, but if I would keep moving forward, they would come too.
… A great desire arose in me to help them. … So from the day we had that talk, I made the decision to be faithful to the Lord, and even now, after seven years, I am still faithful, and my family is firm in the gospel and faithful to the Lord. … Thank you so much for being so straightforward and truthful with me. You’ll never know how much good it did.
This young man is now a returned missionary who has been married in the temple. I am grateful to the Lord for giving me the opportunity to serve as a leader. I am grateful to come to understand the importance of putting myself in others’ shoes so I can try to understand what they are going through.
Alejandro Humberto Villarreal, Argentina