Gospel Story Finder

As a child matures and starts working for money, whether for his parents or his neighbors, he will deal honestly and give honest labor for the returns he gets. Often the earliest employment for a young man is as a newsboy. Countless numbers of our successful businessmen today got their start in this occupation. They learned to be prompt and dependable. I knew a newsboy who always had his papers delivered on time regardless of the weather, and he handled his collections in a pleasant, courteous, and businesslike manner. He had many satisfied customers and had no difficulty in getting new subscriptions. This early training helped him to become a most successful businessman.

My greatest adventure, however, was the reading of the Holy Bible. From infancy I had enjoyed the simplified and illustrated Bible stories, but the original Bible seemed so interminable in length, so difficult to understand, that I avoided it until a challenge came to me from Sister Susa Young Gates. She was the speaker at the MIA meeting of stake conference and gave a discourse on the value of reading the Bible. In conclusion she asked for a showing of hands of all who had read it through. The hands that were raised out of that large congregation were so few and so timid! Some of them tried to explain by saying, “We haven’t read it through but we have studied many parts of it.”
I was shocked into an unalterable determination to read that great book. As soon as I reached home after the meeting I began with the first verse of Genesis and continued faithfully every day. Most of the reading was done in my attic bedroom that I occupied alone. I burned considerable midnight oil and read long hours when I was thought to be asleep.
Approximately a year later I reached the last verses in Revelation:
“He which testifieth these things saith, Surely I come quickly. Amen. Even so, come, Lord Jesus.
“The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you all. Amen.”
What a satisfaction it was to me to realize I had read the Bible through from beginning to end! What exultation of spirit! And what joy in the overall picture I had received of its contents!
For more than half of a century now I have continued to be grateful to Sister Gates for the inspiration that provoked me to read the Holy Bible my first time.
I commend it to you, young and old.

World peace and international peace are kind of lofty goals that we keep in our minds and hearts, but how many of us can have family peace for even 24 hours? Often our families are the hardest place for us to achieve a society of peace. President Tanner grew up in a family with 13 children. There was not always complete peace in that chaotic household as he grew up. However, his parents were wise and they taught those children to keep their covenants, to bear one another’s burdens, to mourn with those that mourn, and, especially, his father emphasized something that we do not always emphasize. A part of our covenant that we find in Romans 12:15 is that we should “rejoice with them that do rejoice.” This was an amazing part of that covenant for this family. After all, if there are thirteen children and two parents, your birthday celebration only rolls around one time in every 15 birthdays, so you might as well be happy for the others while they are celebrating. Or if you buy a dozen apples, there are not enough to go around for everyone to have one, so you need to learn to be unselfish and you need to learn to rejoice for others in their joys and successes. Among these thirteen now grown adult brothers and sisters, there are extroverts who are very firm-minded, but there is an unmistakable love and peace that they share. I witnessed this in a recent family trip that we took to England. President Tanner acted as a tour guide, because this is his area of expertise. Each one of his brothers and sisters loved, admired and appreciated the things that he taught. There were no jealousies or divisions, only love, admiration, and peace. From their growing-up years, they had learned to rejoice for each other in their successes.

Tommy Cross, 14, of the First Ward, talked about a temple trip to Dallas, Texas. “At first we all thought we’d remember going to Six Flags and that the baptisms for the dead were something we’d do just to keep the leaders happy. But when we got back and talked about it, we’d forgotten about the amusement park. Everybody remembered the temple and what went on inside the temple. It was more important. You felt better there.”

Micky was sitting on the curb when his friend John came and sat down beside him. “What can we do on such a hot day?” John asked.
“Let’s go for a walk,” Micky suggested. “We might find adventure.”
“Adventure? What’s that?” John asked.
“Grandfather said it’s finding new and happy things to do,” Micky explained.
“Let’s go then!” said John.
They walked to the end of the block and turned the corner. “My mother told me not to cross the street,” Micky cautioned.
“Mine too,” said John as they continued up the street.
A dog was sitting on the grass wagging its tail in front of a house. “Hello, doggy,” Micky called.
“Hello, doggy,” John echoed.
The dog followed them wagging his tail. Soon they turned another corner and saw a boy bouncing a ball.
“Hi!” said the boy. “My name’s Steve and we just moved here. Where do you live?”
“Way back there. I’m Micky and this is my friend John. We’re taking a walk. Would you like to come too?”
“Sure,” said the boy. “Mother says I can take a walk but I mustn’t cross the street.”
“Me neither,” said Micky.
“Same here,” said John.
The friendly dog was still following them wagging his tail. When they came to the end of that block, they saw a low stone wall that went all the way around the corner. Micky stepped up onto the wall. Arms held wide, he balanced himself carefully. “Look, I’m a tightrope walker,” he boasted, putting one foot down right in front of the other.
John climbed up on the wall, too, and followed Micky around the corner, arms held wide. “Zoom! I’m an airplane,” he said and laughed.
Steve tagged along behind John. “Chug, chug, chug. I’m a train,” he pretended. The dog followed along on the sidewalk.
When the wall came to an end, the boys jumped down.
“What’s that on the sidewalk?” Micky suddenly asked, pointing at something sparkling.
Micky ran and picked it up. “It’s a rock,” he said, turning it around and around in his hand. It felt warm. “I think I’ll keep this for my collection.”
As John reached for the rock to inspect it, a yellow butterfly fluttered down and settled on his hand. He held his hand very still, hardly breathing. “Wow!” the boys said when the butterfly fluttered on its way again.
Micky put the rock in his pocket and the boys started walking again.
“Is that your dog?” Steve asked.
“No,” Micky answered, his eyes laughing, “he lives around the corner from us and likes to walk too!”
“It would be fun to play ball there sometime,” Micky said, pointing to an empty lot.
“Or build a clubhouse,” John suggested.
“Or have a picnic,” added Steve.
As Micky, John, Steve, and the dog walked around another corner, Micky shouted, “There’s my house.”
John shouted, “Mine too!”
“I live just around the alley from you. That’s my house by the flag. See you later,” Steve said as he hurried home.
“We really found adventure,” Micky said. “And it was fun.”
“And we found two new friends,” said John, as he waved at Steve and then watched the dog turn in at its own house down the street.

Keeping the commandments. Our family’s income dropped considerably during the divorce process, and we struggled financially. I faced the dilemma of whether to pay tithing when there clearly was not enough money to feed and care for my large family and to make the essential house repairs. I sought counsel from my priesthood leaders and knew my answer. I decided I would pay a full tithing. I believe this single act of faith opened the windows of heaven, for many blessings were showered on our family. While I was deeply grateful for help from others, I also found myself struggling to develop humility and graciousness, as my family had never before required help. My first trip to the bishops’ storehouse resulted in tears, but I sought from the Lord what He would have me learn from the experience. Besides struggling with pride, I learned much about love and the purpose for the welfare program. Although we no longer need welfare assistance, I am grateful for that experience.

Thus, the Fourth principle is that God prepares us to face our trials. I want to share with you how I learned and can testify of the goodness of God and the reality of our Savior's great atoning sacrifice on our behalf and how this carried me through a very difficult time in my life. It is really easy to be obedient when things are going well in the calm between the storms that represent the trials in our lives.

I distinctly recall one such moment of calm. It was a beautiful sunny fall afternoon and I was driving past our local golf course on the way to the grocery store. Our last child had recently been born, a daughter after four very active sons. At that moment I felt the love of Heaven so profoundly and felt blessed beyond description. It seemed nothing could go wrong; life was very, very good. As I reflect on that moment today I am grateful for the tender mercy of that moment and the pause it gave me to appreciate the goodness of a loving Heavenly Father. And the strength it gave me to face the approaching storm.

From the very beginning our four sons have given us a run for our money. They were and are as active and adventurous as you can imagine, it is all I have known and I have loved every minute of it. However; active and adventurous, for our family, go hand in hand with emergency rooms and urgent care centers, sometimes including a trip to each on the same day with the same son. A tetanus shot and glue in the afternoon at the urgent care center for laceration and surgery to repair a digital nerve at the emergency room in the evening. It was an interesting moment when the nurse asked when this son had received his last tetanus shot and I responded; four hours ago.

When the urgent care opened in our community I may have been the only one thinking how much it would save us in emergency room costs. During, what we call our ER phase, we kept a running tally on how many days, weeks and finally months we were ER free. Before we stopped keeping track, the longest time between visits was four months. During this time we accumulated countless stitches, staples, broken arms, skull fractures, surgeries, hospitalizations, disease diagnoses, ambulance rides, and life flights.

Going to the ER became so routine that I knew when superglue could be used at home in lieu of stitches. In addition, as it turns out, being on a first name basis with the ER nurses and doctors can be valuable. To this day, my husband and I employ a sophisticated system to determine who "gets" to take the injured child to the emergency room. It is called Rock, Paper, Scissors. Loser goes. I can tell you that I win more than I lose.

Because of these experiences we learned to navigate traumatic situations with our children, listen to the promptings of the spirit, witness miracles through the power of the priesthood, and embrace the life we have with our children.I tell you this because these experiences helped form my foundation for what was to come. On February 15, 2005, around 4:00 in the afternoon I received a phone call from a dear friend. She said to me; Kristie, I hate to be the bearer of bad news; your husband and boys have been in an accident by our home. You need to come right away. I immediately prayed for the safety of my husband Eric, and our sons Jake and Tyson, who were all in the car. At that time Jake was 15, Tyson 12, Cody 9, Kade 7, and our daughter, Katelyn, was 5 months old.

Prior to the phone call, I had taken our youngest son to a friend's house and our daughter was still in her car seat asleep. I put her in the car along with our 9 year-old son and drove the 2 short miles from our home to the scene of the accident.

As you drive south on this country road there is a small hill that blocks your view of the upcoming intersection. As we came over the hill we saw numerous emergency vehicles. I was quickly diverted to the ambulance that had our son, Tyson, in it. He, I was told, was the most critical. As soon as I got in the ambulance, I saw that our good friend, a paramedic, was working on him. I was relieved because of my confidence in his abilities. I knew Tyson needed a priesthood blessing and made arrangements for a family member to meet us at the hospital. I was allowed to ride in the ambulance with Tyson, and dear friends stepped in to care for our younger children. It's interesting what you remember at times like this; I remember being handed things from Tyson's pockets, notes from friends, his watch, and thinking these are such ordinary things for a time like this, but I needed them with me.

When we arrived at the hospital, as you can imagine it was a scene of ordered chaos; I was again relieved to see doctors I knew from previous visits and that I had confidence in working on Eric, Jake, and Tyson. At some point in this chaos they were each given a priesthood blessing. Jake had been unconscious but was awake and concerned about Tyson and Eric. He sustained a broken bone on the top of his foot and a concussion. Eric was concerned about Jake and Tyson, but had significant injures that included three crushed vertebrae, a broken clavicle, a sternum that was cracked in six places, and a hip contusion. The injuries to his chest and back caused him a great deal of pain and impaired his breathing.

Tyson's injuries were critical. He was intubated on arrival at the hospital, and rushed for a CT scan. During the CT scan he coded. Our good friend, the same paramedic, started CPR and was able to get his heart beating again. I was grateful to be able to be by his side while other family members attended to Eric and Jake.

The CT showed that Tyson had sustained a shattered spleen, multiple liver lacerations, and bone fractures. He was immediately taken into surgery. His spleen was removed and his liver was packed in an attempt to stop the bleeding. It was determined he should be life-flighted to Primary Children's Hospital in Salt Lake City, Utah. A priesthood blessing was administered before Tyson left. Arrangements were made and we were soon in Salt Lake City. Again, he was immediately taken into surgery. During the second surgery he coded multiple times and was resuscitated. I was able to be with him when he was brought into the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit. Tyson was given a priesthood blessing and had the best medical care that was available; including IV's, blood transfusions, platelets and clotting factors. None of this was able to stop the bleeding. His internal bleeding was so severe that it was impossible for the medical team to replace the blood he was losing.

My husband was not able to accompany me to Salt Lake because his injuries were so significant. It was very difficult for him and for me to be separated. A family member stayed with him during the night and I will be forever grateful that they were there with him when I called to tell him that Tyson had died in the early morning hours; eleven hours and two surgeries after the accident.

I can tell you that this is not what I prayed for. As I was en route to Salt Lake City I remember thinking everything would be alright but I didn't know what side of "alright" I was going to be on. I of course, prayed for Tyson to be healed. I really wanted him to be able to show his friends the super cool scars he would have from the surgeries.

Elder Oaks taught, "We do all that we can for the healing of a loved one, and then we trust in the Lord for the outcome." Our faith must be in the Lord and submit to His will and not what we think the outcome should be.

I do not have the eternal perspective that our Father has; however, I trust him. There is great comfort in the words of Mormon found in Mormon chapter 5 verse 23, "know ye not that ye are in the hands of God?" and Doctrine and Covenants section 42 verse 48 "he that hath faith in me to be healed, and is not appointed unto death, shall be healed". We do not know why Tyson's life on this earth was a short 12 and a half years but if we trust in God, we do not need to know everything.

I was amazed out how quickly friends and family responded when they heard about the accident. In the Kimball Building on the second floor there is a plaque with a quote from President Kimball. It reads, "God does notice us, and he watches over us. But it is usually through another person that he meets our needs." I testify that this is true.

God poured out many tender mercies upon me and my family in preparing us for this trial; I had experience with hospitals, doctors, and paramedics. I knew Tyson had received excellent medical care. I was able to talk to Tyson in the ambulance before he lost consciousness, family and friends quickly surrounded us, my younger brother was in medical school at the University of Utah; he along with other family members and friends were with Tyson when he arrived. His medical knowledge was a great comfort to me. Family and friends took care of Eric, Jake, Cody and Kade while I rushed to be with Tyson. Arrangements were made so I could fly to Salt Lake and be with Tyson and arrive shortly after he died.

After Tyson died, kindness was again extended to our family when this same individual arranged for my husband and sons to fly to Salt Lake to be with me and Katelyn. Looking back I am still humbled by the sacrifices family, friends, and others made on our behalf.

But are we not to bring a certain proper reverence to prayer? And if we are not in that mode should we not repent and wait? Listen to Heber C. Kimball. He is praying with his family and in the midst of the prayer says, “Father, bless Brother So-and-so.” And then begins a loud laugh. I can imagine the heads of his children popping up and their eyes opening. After a slight pause he said, “Lord, it makes me laugh to pray about some people,” and went on with his prayer (see, Whitney, Kimball, p. 427). I leave it to you, was that light-mindedness or profound intimacy with the Lord who knows we have a funny bone? He gave it to us.

Sometimes important choices are quite simple. As young missionaries serving in England, my companion and I had the opportunity to go to the temple. As we crossed the temple grounds, the temple president, Selvoy J. Boyer, walked toward us. Seeing our missionary badges, he pointed at us and asked, “Matthew 5:48—do you know that scripture?” My companion stated, “Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect.” President Boyer said, “That is correct. Elders, are you living that commandment?”

We started to stammer; we knew we were not perfect! He helped us. He asked questions about what we had done for the past three days. He asked about when we went to bed, when we got up, whether we had individual and companion scripture study, and whether we went proselyting on time. Then he said, “I am sure you are not perfect, but you have made perfect choices for the past three days, and that means you are moving in the right direction.” He left us thinking about the importance of what he had asked.

Elder Glenn L. Pace of the Seventy told how his youngest daughter helped their family do things the Lord’s way. He said: “She was the one who reminded us to have family prayer. She was the one who tried to get us excited about family home evening. She devised treasure hunts; she fixed treats; she would do anything to try to get the family excited about having family home evening” (“Friend to Friend,” Friend, Feb. l997, 7).

Other stories weren’t as bright. When my grandma was little, her three older brothers left to fight in World War II. “My brother came in to say goodbye to me,” she told me, “but I pretended to be asleep—I thought if I didn’t say goodbye to him, he wouldn’t leave.” I pictured the tears on her cheeks when she woke up to find him already gone. It reminded me of my own tears as I said goodbye to my brother when he left to serve his mission in Bolivia. I realized that, like me, my grandma loved her family deeply.

One Sunday, on the way out of church, my four-year-old brother, Westley, gave me a piece of gum he had been given. In return, I gave him a chocolate candy I had. When my six-year-old brother, Courtland, found out, he was very sad. He said no one ever gave him treats at church.
Westley asked if I would sit by him in the car. On the way home, I asked about his lesson. He said that it was about being a peacemaker. “What’s a peacemaker?” I asked, trying to get him to tell me about his lesson. He told me a story example of a peacemaker. He was quiet for a minute. Then he said, “Kiera, I don’t really want your candy.”
Surprised, I asked, “Why not?”
“I mean, I do want it, but is it OK if I give it to Courtland?”
“Sure. Do you want your piece of gum back?”
“No. You can have it.”
“OK.” I tapped Courtland on the back. “Westley said you could have the candy.” I handed it to him.
He said, “Thanks,” and ate it. We were all smiling.
I’m grateful to have such good examples for brothers. I know that if a four-year-old child can be a peacemaker, I can, too. From now on, I’m going to be a peacemaker in my home.

Here are pictures for another true story that shows how Jacob Hamblin could be trusted. Cut out the characters and mount them on flannel. Place them on a flannel board as you read what each one says. You could give the story as a play for family home evening and have family members read assigned parts. The characters could be attached to tongue depressors or Popsicle sticks and held by each person.
Jacob, Jr.: I am the son of Jacob Hamblin. My name is also Jacob. One day my father sent me to trade a horse for some blankets with an old Navajo Indian chief.
Jacob Hamblin: I am Jacob Hamblin. I told my young son to be sure to make a good trade.
Jacob, Jr.: I rode on horseback, leading the horse that was to be traded.
Navajo Chief: I am the Navajo Indian chief. Young Jacob told me that his father wanted to trade a horse for some blankets. I brought out a number of handsome blankets.
Jacob, Jr.: I shook my head and said that I would have to have more.
Navajo Chief: I brought out two buffalo robes and quite a few more blankets.
Jacob, Jr.: Thinking that I had done quite well, I bundled all the blankets and robes into a roll behind my saddle, mounted my horse, and started for home.
Jacob Hamblin: When my son arrived home, I undid the roll of blankets and robes. I looked at them and began to separate them. I put blanket after blanket into a pile and then rolled them up. I told young Jacob to take them back and tell the chief that he had sent too many.
Jacob, Jr.: I rode again to the Indian chief, returned the blankets to him, and told him that my father thought that he had sent too many. The old chief smiled and said:
Navajo Chief: I knew that you would come back; I knew that Jacob would not cheat me. (Adapted from Valiant B Manual, page 139.)

Three weeks ago I stepped into Yesterday. In that moment I rediscovered Today. And it is about Today that I wish to speak.
A Church assignment had carried me across the vast reaches of the Pacific to the land of Vietnam. For me, this was more than a flight over an ocean. It was a step back in time. More than 40 years ago, I had served on the battlefields of that land as an infantry officer. Etched in my mind over those intervening decades were memories of that place, its people, and my comrades in arms with whom I had served. Jacob once wrote, “Our lives passed away like … unto us a dream” (Jacob 7:26). So it had been for me. And now I was returning from my hall of memories to that place of memory after a near half century. My Church business concluded, I determined to once again visit those fields of desperate struggle. Accompanied by my dear wife, I made the pilgrimage.
I am not quite sure what I expected to find after so many years. What I did find was most unexpected. Instead of a war-ravaged people, I found a youthful, vibrant population. Instead of a countryside pockmarked by shell fire, I found peaceful, verdant fields. Even the jungle growth was new. I guess that I had half expected to find Yesterday, but what I found was Today and the promise of a bright Tomorrow. I was reminded that “weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning” (Psalm 30:5).
My pilgrimage back in time completed, I looked around upon those peaceful fields of Today and saw in their fertility the promise of Tomorrow. I thought of my friend Sergeant Arthur Cyrus Morris. I thought of that fateful Palm Sunday of Yesterday. And I was profoundly grateful for the Redeemer of Easter morning, who grants us life, whose descent below all things makes possible our rising above all things—Tomorrow, if we but seize Today. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Valued companionships begin with a personal commitment to be an exemplary companion. I was taught the importance of such caring attention and loving personal influence many years ago on Temple Square. When I was a young man, I was on my way to a session of general conference when someone took my elbow. It was President David O. McKay. “Come with me, Joseph,” President McKay said. “I’ll help you find a good seat.”

For those few moments as we walked toward the Tabernacle, President McKay seemed to focus his entire attention on me. He spoke reverently of his love for the Lord and his love for the members of the Church. He looked me straight in the eye as he firmly shared his testimony with me.

“I want you to know, Joseph,” he said, “that the President of the Lord’s Church does receive inspiration and revelation from the Lord Jesus Christ.” At that moment, the Spirit whispered to my heart that President David O. McKay was telling me the truth. I knew then that he was truly a prophet of God. That testimony has remained with me throughout my life, filling me with reverence and respect for the office our prophet holds.

I felt his love and was enriched by his humble act of kindness during those few minutes together. I don’t think that I was ever quite the same after that. I then resolved that I would try to be as good a companion to others as he had been to me.

Eight-year-old Jürgen Hiller’s parents are very important to him. He is very grateful that his father is alive and doing well. On August 31, 1992, Jürgen’s father woke up in a hospital. While driving to work, he had been in a terrible car accident. His spine was injured, and both thighs were broken. The doctors said that it was doubtful that he would live and that if by some miracle he did, that he would be paralyzed for life.
But the Hiller family believes in miracles. Through fasting and many prayers, Brother Hiller lived and was not paralyzed. Jürgen and his family are thankful for a Heavenly Father who hears and answers prayers.

After my mission to Taiwan, I thought international law would be a good career choice. As Christy and I considered that possible future, we understood that five more years of expensive education lay ahead.

The U.S. economy was in a deep recession and our funds were limited, so we reasoned that joining the Air Force ROTC would be a wise choice to pay for my schooling. But as I took the required tests and filled out the paperwork, we just could not get comfortable making that commitment. No stupor of thought or dark feelings came—only an absence of peace.

That seemingly illogical financial decision was inspired, in part, because I would have been a horrible lawyer!

This story took place in the USA.
Roy sat down at the table and opened his lunch bag. His family had just moved, and this was his first day at his new school. His mom had made his favorite Armenian food, kofta. He was excited to eat it!
Roy unrolled the wax paper wrapped around the kofta. It was like a long, skinny meatball. He loved the smell of the spices baked into the meat. And the hole in the middle made it like a little whistle. He put it to his lips and blew. Then he took a bite. Delicious!
“Hey,” said a boy across the table. “What’s that weird thing you’re eating?”
Roy felt his cheeks flush. “It’s my lunch.”
“Well, it doesn’t look very good.” The boy laughed.
Roy didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know that no one else here ate kofta. He didn’t want them to think he was weird! So he put away his lunch and ran outside for recess.
After school, Roy found Mom unpacking boxes.
“I don’t want to take kofta to school anymore,” Roy said.
“Why?” Mom asked. “It’s your favorite.”
Roy told her what happened at school. “It was so embarrassing!”
“I’m sorry that happened,” Mom said. “Most people here have never had kofta. What if we gave the other kids a chance to try some?”
“Why?” Roy asked. “They won’t eat it.”
“Well, you can’t know unless you ask! I know it’s hard to make new friends. But we are all children of God. Sometimes we just have to get to know more about each other.”
Roy thought about it. He didn’t want to be laughed at. But he did want to give the kids at lunch a better chance to understand. And kofta really was tasty.
He nodded. “OK. Let’s make more.”
The next day at lunch, Roy took a deep breath. He sat down next to the boy who had laughed at him.
Roy opened his lunch bag. “Would any of you like to try some Armenian food?”
The other kids gathered around as Roy unwrapped the kofta.
“I’ll try some,” the boy said.
“Me too,” a girl added. Roy passed around the kofta so everyone could try it. Then they all took a bite.
“This is really good!” the boy said. “What’s it called?”
“Kofta,” Roy said.
“Cool!” The boy smiled. “I’m John. Want to play at recess?”
Roy could only nod with a full mouth. His mom was right—they were all children of God too! And sharing helped him make friends after all.

Many of us, however, freeze in fear and discouragement when faced with a challenge that seems beyond our capabilities. We focus on what we cannot control instead of what we can control. Some years ago, I took professional development leave to help do research for the Department of Conservation in New Zealand. My husband and our three teenagers set out on a grand three month adventure in the southern hemisphere. In New Zealand, drivers drive on the other side of the road. When we had purchased a mini-van for our family, I asked a New Zealand friend to ride with me as I got used to driving on the left side of the road. We started out on some quiet residential streets and a little busier road with some oncoming traffic.

All went well. But then we came to a two lane round about. YIKES! All the lanes were full; traffic was traveling fast and coming from four different directions into the round about, in what seemed to me to be the wrong direction. I froze. Traffic began to back up behind me. I just couldn't see how I could get into the round about. I just saw cars and cars and cars coming at me fast. My friend encouragingly and cheerfully said "Go for the gap, Kari, Go for the gap." I started looking for a gap instead of cars. I saw a gap and away I went. That expression has become somewhat of a philosophy of life for me now. When I see perceived obstacles in front of me, I take a deep breath, look for the gap and try to take action.

My great-grandfather, Henry Ballard, joined the Church in England, came to America, and suffered great privation while making his way west to Utah. Likewise, my great-grandmother, Margaret McNeil Ballard, endured much hardship crossing the plains as an 11-year-old girl. As I traveled along the pioneer trail with my family a few years ago, I found myself wondering how my faithful great-grandparents ever survived that trek and how it was possible for them to do what they did throughout their lives. Surely they came to know God and His Holy Son as they willingly gave all that they had to serve Them. Henry Ballard served faithfully as bishop of the Logan Second Ward for just a few months less than 40 years. His devoted wife Margaret served as Relief Society president for 30 years.
Our commitment to the kingdom should match that of our faithful ancestors even though our sacrifices are different. Today in the Church we can find many examples to help us understand that sacrifice for the gospel is still essential and that coming unto Christ requires as much commitment and devotion now as it ever has.
Not long ago, for example, I was assigned to preside over a regional conference in La Paz, Bolivia. Some members came from small towns and villages far away, showing great sacrifice and commitment to attend the meetings. Prior to the priesthood leadership training session, I greeted the brethren as they gathered. I noticed that one older brother’s shirt was a different color from the middle of his chest down; the upper portion was white, while the lower part was brownish red. He and three of his companions, all Melchizedek Priesthood holders, had traveled for many hours, walking most of the way and fording two rivers where the brownish red water came up to their chests. They had flagged down a truck and stood in the back of it for the last two hours of their journey.
Their sacrifice and their attitude about it made me feel extremely humble. One of these faithful men said to me: “Elder Ballard, you are one of the Lord’s Apostles. My brethren and I would do whatever was required to be taught by you.”
Do we have a similar attitude when we are asked to attend stake and ward or branch and district leadership meetings?
We sing, “Sacrifice brings forth the blessings of heaven” (“Praise to the Man,” Hymns, number 27). This is a true principle. Let me illustrate with a personal experience.
I was named bishop of a suburban Salt Lake City ward in 1958, in the days when local members paid 50 percent of the cost of constructing a building. One of the most important leadership experiences in my life came several weeks before the dedication of our building. Our ward of young families, struggling to make ends meet, still needed to raise U.S. $30,000. I fasted and prayed to know what I should say to them regarding this obligation. We already had pressed them very hard.
As the brethren gathered for priesthood meeting, I was impressed to read to them the testimony that Elder Melvin J. Ballard, my grandfather, bore when he was ordained to the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles on 7 January 1919. I quote a small portion recounting his experience in 1917 when he had sought the Lord pleadingly in a situation where there were no precedents for guidance:
“That night I received a wonderful manifestation and impression which has never left me. I was carried to this place—into this room. I saw myself here with you. I was told there was another privilege that was to be mine; and I was led into a room where I was informed I was to meet someone. As I entered the room I saw, seated on a raised platform, the most glorious being I have ever conceived of, and was taken forward to be introduced to Him. As I approached He smiled, called my name, and stretched out His hands toward me. … He put His arms around me and kissed me, as He took me into His bosom, and He blessed me until my whole being was thrilled. As He finished I fell at His feet, and there saw the marks of the nails; and as I kissed them, with deep joy swelling through my whole being, I felt that I was in heaven indeed. The feeling that came to my heart then was: Oh! If I could live worthy … so that in the end when I have finished I could go into His presence and receive the feeling that I then had in His presence, I would give everything that I am and ever hope to be!” (Melvin R. Ballard, Melvin J. Ballard: Crusader for Righteousness [1966], 66).
The Spirit of the Lord touched the hearts of the faithful brethren in my ward’s priesthood meeting that day. We all knew that with greater faith in Jesus Christ, our Savior and Redeemer, we could reach our goal. During that same day, family after family came to my office with money, making personal sacrifices that were far beyond what I, the bishop, would ever have asked of them. By eight o’clock Sunday evening, the ward clerk had written receipts for a little more than $30,000.
Sacrifice truly brought forth the blessings of heaven to the members of our ward. Never have I lived among a people who were more united, more caring, more concerned for one another than those members. In our greatest sacrifice, we became bonded together in the true spirit of the gospel of love and service.