Gospel Story Finder

“We’re going to have a scavenger hunt,” Mom announced at family home evening.
Ten-year-old Amy grinned.
“Cool!” said Nathan and Carl, Amy’s older brothers.
Mom continued. “You’ll be able to find most of the things on the list tonight, but some may take all week.” She passed a list to each person.
“Get as many as you can,” Mom said. “Heavenly Father will help you, if you ask.”
Amy scanned the page:
SCAVENGER HUNT—THINGS TO FIND
A picture of Jesus Christ
A story of a missionary experience
A true pioneer story
The name of an ancestor with the same first or middle name as yours
“OK,” Mom said, before Amy could finish reading the list, “be back here in an hour for closing prayer, and then try to complete the list during the week. We’ll have prizes and share our experiences next week.”
While Nathan and Carl whispered together, Amy read the rest of the list:
A story about President Hinckley when he was a boy
A scripture about faith
A picture of a temple in another country
Someone to give a Book of Mormon to
Amy groaned. The first seven wouldn’t be too hard. But how would she ever find someone to give a Book of Mormon to?
“The first one’s easy,” Amy muttered to herself. She took a deep breath, then pulled a small picture of Jesus Christ out of her scripture carrier. One down.
Her class had read Alma 32:21 in Primary last week. It was a good scripture on faith, so Amy put a bookmark there in her Book of Mormon and placed her scriptures by the picture of Jesus.
For once Amy was glad that her middle name was Evelyn. She already knew that it was her great-grandmother’s name, too!
Next, she went downstairs and found old copies of the Friend. As she thumbed through them, she found a picture of the Tokyo Temple. Another issue had a story about President Hinckley growing up, and several magazines had true pioneer stories. By that time, the hour was up. No one had thought of someone to give a Book of Mormon to. In the closing prayer, they asked for help in finding people who were looking for the gospel.
Brother and Sister McKenzie had just come home from their mission in Brazil, so on Tuesday, Amy decided to ask them about their mission. But the last item still stumped her—someone to give a Book of Mormon to.
Amy thought and prayed about it all week long. Whom could she give a Book of Mormon to? And what could she say? “We’re having a scavenger hunt—would you like a Book of Mormon?” They’d laugh at her.
She didn’t feel like being laughed at, and besides, she didn’t think giving someone a Book of Mormon should be a joke. It was a special book. She loved it, and she loved Jesus Christ too much to … That was it! It was a book for people who loved Jesus! Amy knew just the person.
She knelt and prayed quietly for Heavenly Father’s help. Courage, came a whisper in her mind. A calm feeling warmed her, and she rode her bike to her friend Sarah’s house.
But the calm feeling vanished when she got to the door. With sweaty palms and a butterfly storm in her stomach, she prayed silently, then rang the doorbell.
“Hi, Amy,” Mrs. Morgan said, opening the door. “Sarah’s at her grandmother’s this week.”
“I know,” Amy said. “I came to talk to you.” She paused, took a deep breath, then plunged in. “Mrs. Morgan, you love Jesus Christ a lot, don’t you?”
“Oh, very much,” Mrs. Morgan said, her face softening.
“Would you … would you like another book about Him?” Amy held out a blue Book of Mormon.
“The Book of Mormon,” Mrs. Morgan read. “Another Testament of Jesus Christ.”
“It tells some really neat things about Jesus,” Amy said. “About His visit to the Nephites in America and what He taught them. And it has one of my favorite scriptures—’When ye are in the service of your fellow beings ye are only in the service of your God.’”*
Mrs. Morgan studied Amy’s face for a moment, then looked back at the book. “Another Testament of Jesus Christ,” she repeated in a whisper. “Yes, Amy, I would like to read this. Thank you.”
Amy grinned, and the warm feeling bubbled over inside her. “I like all of it, but Third Nephi is where it tells about the Savior’s visit to the Americas. I especially like where He blesses the children. That’s Mom’s favorite part, too.”
Mrs. Morgan started turning pages, and Amy helped her find Third Nephi.
Mrs. Morgan settled herself on the front step and began reading. Amy waited for a moment, then smiled and left. Mrs. Morgan was too caught up in her reading to say good-bye. And as the bubbly feeling carried Amy home, she knew she had already won the real prize of the scavenger hunt, and she hoped everyone else in her family would win it, too.

One week after I went through the temple, I moved away from home and started college. Even though I was attending Brigham Young University, a school with lots of members of the Church, I was still pondering how I could make specific efforts to keep feeling the Spirit as much as I had while in the temple.
Adjusting to college was difficult for me. I was trying to balance school, work, a social life, sleep, and spiritual endeavors. At times it seemed like feeling the Spirit consistently was out of reach. I kept remembering those moments when I’d felt the Spirit so strongly, and I kept wondering how I could ever feel that again.
I realized that leaving the temple didn’t have to mean leaving behind the peace and joy I felt there. Instead, worshipping in the temple has helped me invite the Savior into all aspects of my life.

Tim Healey of Missoula, Montana, learned the value of determination. He represented his state and country in the World School Boy Wrestling Tournament, where he took second place in his division.
Tim was plagued by back pains but overcame illness on the day of the final matches as he wrestled in the competition that led to his selection as a member of the Montana team. As a member of that team, he competed against 13 countries in the world tournament.
Tim serves as teachers quorum president in the Missoula Third Ward, Missoula Montana Stake.

During my last year of college, I was definitely burned-out. School was fulfilling, but pushing myself took a toll. It was difficult to participate in meaningful activities outside of classes, and I felt empty and unmotivated to do anything that didn’t involve being graded.
It became hard to focus on the gospel. After studying all day, pulling my scriptures out felt like a chore. I found myself dragging my feet to church, and I could tell I was growing distant from Heavenly Father, though I didn’t want to.
Something had to change. But I felt like I couldn’t ask Heavenly Father for help, because I wasn’t doing enough to be worthy of it. However, I had a subtle prompting to focus on the temple, a confirmation of President Russell M. Nelson’s (1924–2025) promise that “regular worship in the house of the Lord increases our capacity for both virtue and charity.”
Virtue means power (see Mark 5:30; Luke 8:46). And I desperately needed God’s power in my life.
Walking the grounds, sitting in the foyer, and doing proxy work became essential to feeling close to Heavenly Father again. While there, I would envision my relationship with Heavenly Father as tangible and real. And this made a lasting difference.
To have a relationship with someone, you have to make time for them. Temples are the most sacred spaces on earth. Free from distractions and worldly stresses, I could focus entirely on Heavenly Father and His eternal plan for His children.
The Savior taught: “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid” (John 14:27).
Nowhere is that peace stronger than in the temple. The temple was my harbor during that stormy semester. The divine calm there made a monumental difference in my outlook, and my connection with God started growing again.
A relationship also involves communication. I hadn’t been speaking or listening to Heavenly Father as much as I used to, but the temple helped me start again.
President Henry B. Eyring, First Counselor in the First Presidency, taught that in the temple “revelation comes to us easily if our hearts are open to it and we are worthy of it.” Spending more time there helped me open my heart. I found forgiveness as I repented and mercy lighting my soul as I reached out to my Father in Heaven.
By rekindling the revelation process, I found answers to questions. Paths that seemed murky became lighter, and I knew that Heavenly Father would support me as I kept moving forward.
A covenant relationship with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ is the most powerful bond we can experience. When I received my own endowment, I felt hope that it would bring essential blessings into my life. Participating in those ordinances for my ancestors brought that feeling back during the busy semester. I felt comforted knowing I had Heavenly Father’s power with me as I lived my covenants.
Young Women General President Emily Belle Freeman explained that it’s not the covenant path itself that brings these blessings but our companion along the path. “And this is the why of covenant relationship.” Our covenants connect us to Jesus Christ and Heavenly Father.
Though I felt undeserving of Heavenly Father’s love because of my struggles, He didn’t want me to feel that way. As I remembered my covenants, Heavenly Father was there for me. His divine intervention wasn’t just for after my burnout—He was there to help me through it.
No matter how small my efforts in worshipping in the temple were, Heavenly Father was infinitely gracious, giving me more than I could ever pay back. He gently encouraged me to live up to my covenantal promises, and I kept pushing forward to regain my motivation.
I still struggle to do these things perfectly, but I’m hopeful instead of despondent. I know that Heavenly Father can take my faltering efforts and make miracles. Because of Jesus Christ, I can always repent and ask for forgiveness. I can keep striving to strengthen my bond with Heavenly Father each day.
Worshipping in the temple, living worthy of a temple recommend, and keeping your covenants can strengthen and fortify your relationship with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. These relationships will bring you peace and joy, no matter what your circumstances may be.

There are many other opportunities to share the gospel. For example, just this summer I received a happy letter from a new member who learned about the restored gospel when an old classmate phoned her to inquire about an illness she was experiencing. She wrote: “I was enlightened by the way he presented himself to me. After [a] few months of learning from the missionaries, I was baptized. My life has improved since then.” We all know many whose lives would be improved by the restored gospel. Are we reaching out to them?

To get to a remote branch in Saetsiwi on Tanna Island, Elders Nalin and Toa drove to and then hiked up a mountain for three hours, eating nothing but the coconuts they found along the way. But when they arrived at Saetsiwi, they couldn’t find the branch president. And then the rainstorm started.
Rain filled the rivers, which Elder Nalin knew would soon be impassable and dangerous. The elders got back to their truck as quickly as possible, knowing that they had to get off the mountain. The two missionaries crossed the first river safely, but at the second river, the truck got stuck. They pushed and even got others to help push, but the truck didn’t move.
Elder Nalin noticed another river flowing into theirs and just how much bigger it was. He later said, “Our river was still small, like it was waiting for us to get out.” But that wouldn’t last forever.
Both elders grew up in Vanuatu, where vehicles are usually rare and extremely expensive. So, for them, abandoning the truck didn’t seem like an option. But the water level was up to the door handles.
They called President Messick and asked what they should do.
President Messick replied, “Thank you for giving me a call. It’s OK! Leave the truck where it is and find a safe place now!”
Elder Toa and Elder Nalin faced challenges as they tried to reach the people on the island of Tanna who wanted to be baptized—including a sudden rainstorm that flooded the rivers they were crossing.
Elder Toa, the last one out of the truck, later said, “I looked in the back seat for my scriptures and the baptismal forms, and there was nothing. And I thought maybe Elder Nalin already took them.” If the forms were lost, the missionaries would have to go back to Éfaté to get new ones.
Then one of the people who had come to help started shouting. Elder Toa did not understand what he was saying. But Elder Nalin did since it was his native language. He yelled to his companion, “Get out of the truck, something is coming!”
Elder Toa climbed out the back door because the water had already reached the window in the front. The moment he got out, the river swept the truck downstream. As they watched the truck flow downhill, they could see the scriptures and baptismal forms in the back seat.
Elder Toa later said, “While we were still in the river, we called on the power of God to protect our scriptures and baptismal forms. We had faith that He could save them according to His will.”
“After our prayer, we knew everything was going to be fine,” Elder Toa later said.
The district president called and told Elders Toa and Nalin that the Saetsiwi branch president, the same man they couldn’t find earlier, had found their truck. The river had pushed it 820 feet (250 meters) from the main road, but while the engine was wet and the truck had to be towed for other repairs, the outside of the truck wasn’t dented or scratched. However, their lesson books, notebooks, and pamphlets were drenched and destroyed. “You could not read some of the words,” Elder Toa said.
But sitting on top of everything else, their scriptures and the interview forms were somehow dry and undamaged.
Though Elder Toa and Elder Nalin had abandoned the truck in the flooded river, it was later found. Though the engine needed repairs, the truck wasn’t dented or scratched. But most miraculous of all, the most important things they carried inside were undamaged.

At one time Thomas worked with both President Brigham Young and United States President James Buchanan to clear up a misunderstanding that could have resulted in a war between the Saints and the government. Soldiers had been sent to Utah. With Thomas Kane’s help, however, a solution was found before there was any bloodshed. President Wilford Woodruff later told him: "You were an instrument in the hands of God, and you were inspired by him to turn away … the edge of the sword."

Eighty-three-year-old Luella Boyd, a widow, would leave her home in Basin, Wyoming, at five o’clock in the morning, drive seven hours to the temple in Idaho Falls, arriving about noon, and then participate in four endowment sessions. The next morning she would be at the temple as it opened and attend eight more sessions, going without lunch. On the third day she would start at 5:00 a.m., and complete four endowments by noon—then drive home to Basin, Wyoming, arriving at 8:00 p.m. Sixteen sessions—six hundred miles—three days—eighty-three years old! One year she did this eleven times, missing only one month because of bad weather. The most exceptional part of this story is that she currently is serving as a Family History missionary right here in Salt Lake City. Remember, Sister Boyd is eighty-three years old. And you and I think we are busy! What a marvelous spirit and dedication! She is one of 365 full-time Family History missionaries serving in Salt Lake having a remarkable spiritual experience.

Some of the first forks were brought to Europe from Byzantium, a rich and powerful empire to the east. About a thousand years ago a Byzantine princess came to live in Venice, a city in Italy. She ate with a fork. The priests thought her way of eating was so fancy that it was sinful. They scolded her. They preached against her in church. Soon afterward, the princess caught a terrible disease and died. Many people believed that she was punished for using her fork.

I have been blessed to feel that peace every time I enter the sacred temple. I recall the first day I walked into the Salt Lake Temple. I was a young man.
I looked up at a high white ceiling that made the room so light it seemed almost as if it were open to the sky. And in that moment, the thought came into my mind in clear words: “I have been in this lighted place before.” But then immediately there came into my mind, not in my own voice, these words: “No, you have never been here before. You are remembering a moment before you were born. You were in a sacred place like this where the Lord could come.”

Then she put the old flatiron on the stove, drew a chair close to mine, and told me about temple work—how important it is to be able to go to the temple and participate in the sacred ordinances performed there. She also expressed her fervent hope that someday her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren would have the opportunity to enjoy these priceless blessings.
These sweet memories about the spirit of temple work were a blessing in our farm home, our little rural ward of three hundred, and the old Oneida Stake. These memories have returned as I have performed the marriage of each of our children and grandchildren—my mother’s grandchildren and great-grandchildren—under the influence of the Spirit in the house of the Lord.

Things will be different this year, I thought as Christmas was approaching. We had been confined to our home for nine months, and there was uncertainty what would happen later. What could we offer our children during these special days? In the Dominican Republic, the Christmas season is celebrated from the beginning of December until January 6, culminating in an iconic celebration of the “Dia de los Reyes” that commemorates the arrival of the three wise men to the manger where the Savior of the world, Jesus Christ, was born.
I told the children that during Christmas we would not be able to spend time with their grandparents. We would stay home; we would have our Christmas dinner by ourselves, and everything would be fine. My mother heart was beating very hard as I promised my children the same thing that Jesus promised His disciples when He ascended into heaven.
Christmas day arrived, and we prepared our traditional dinner with a lot of love and with the restrictions established by the government and health authorities. Despite all my worries and sadness for not being able to spend time with our relatives, the Lord prepared a way so that, even when distanced, we could be together. Technology played a leading role, and we could see our family in various parts of the world. We felt a spirit of gratitude and kindness knowing that no matter where we are or what situation we are going through, even in the midst of a pandemic, our Heavenly Father cares for each of His children.
Sister Estrella belongs to the Villa Esfuerzo Ward, Santo Domingo Dominican Republic El Almirante Stake.

Claire’s friends were here. She grabbed her in-line skates from the shelf in the hallway.
“Bye, Mom!” she called to her mother, who was sewing in the other room.
“Bye, Claire! I know you’ll be good and have a good time, too!”
Mom always said that same thing whenever Claire went off with her friends. She was eleven, about to turn twelve. A few weeks back, Claire, Jessica, Amanda, and Whitney had decided to skate once a week at the Recreation Center downtown. After school on Fridays was Claire’s favorite time of the whole week. And today she even had a cute new outfit on—a red plaid button shirt over a cream tank top.
At the Center, Claire sat by Jessica as they put on their skates. “Let’s try the jump today,” she said.
“And let’s work on our turns,” Jessica said. “Everybody ready?”
The girls hopped off the wooden bench and sailed onto the floor. Claire threw out her arms and caught her balance, teetering around like a listing sailboat. Halfway around the room, she felt suddenly at ease, her feet relaxing inside her skates, her body gliding effortlessly along the glistening sea of wooden floor as if pushed by a wind.
“Hey, Claire, that’s a cute shirt,” said Jessica. “Is it new?”
“Do you really like it? My mom found it on sale.”
It wasn’t long before the girls were ready for the jump. A wooden ramp was set up in the middle of the skating rink, reminding Claire of an ocean wave. The four girls lined up behind her and sped around the rink, building up speed for the jump. Claire hit the ramp and for a split second floated on air a few inches above the floor. “Whee!” The others followed with squeals of delight.
After several jumps, Claire wiped her forehead. “I’m hot. Let’s work on our turns, Jessica.”
The two friends went over to a quiet corner of the rink. Full 360° turns required patience and a lot of slow practice.
“I did it!” Jessica exulted. “Now you.”
Claire took one glide forward and twisted her body, her skates making a half circle. Around she went in a shaky, slow-motion twirl. “I did it, too! But it needs work.”
“You get better every time,” Jessica called over her shoulder, in the middle of another turn. “Is that a tank top you’re wearing underneath your new shirt? Is it new, too?”
“Yes, I got it just to wear under my shirts. I think the layers look cool.”
“They look cool, but it’s hot skating and you’re wearing two shirts,” Jessica pointed out, skating around Claire. “Why don’t you take off your shirt and skate in your tank top?”
Claire finished a turn and looked straight at Jessica. “I promised my mom—” She stopped when she noticed that Jessica had taken off her sweater and was skating in a thin-strapped tank top herself. Her bare arms and shoulders looked cool. Still, she remembered her mother’s words as she left the house. “I know you’ll be good and have a good time, too.” Claire also remembered what her mother was sewing—a prom dress for Claire’s big sister because there weren’t any modest ones in the stores.
“Come on, Claire,” said Jessica. “Look at Whitney and Amanda. They’re wearing tank tops, too.”
Claire braked and stood up straight. “I promised my mom I would only wear the tank top if I wore it under other shirts. Besides I like my outfit just like this. Let’s do some more jumps.”
Jessica shrugged. Claire led the way, sailing around the rink, building up speed for the jump. She hit the wave and flew, her new red plaid shirttails flapping in the breeze.
Be Clean.How truly beautiful is a well-groomed young woman who is clean in body and mind. She is a daughter of God in whom her Eternal Father can take pride.President Gordon B. Hinckley(Friend, Feb. 2001, page 25.)

When I finished high school in the late 1970s, the Dutch economy was in turmoil. Unemployment rates were high. All in all, things looked pretty dismal. It was difficult for graduates to decide what to do next.
My father was serving as branch president. Now and then he discussed with me the possibility of serving a full-time mission. Of course, that would be a wonderful thing to do. I had been looking forward to that my whole life.
But I didn’t see how serving a mission could help me provide for my future family. Since childhood I had always had a great desire to one day find the love of my life and to build our family together.
I was 17 at the time, and not knowing what to do next, I started my next level of education. But after several weeks I found that this field of study was not going to make me happy. I had questions about whether it would even provide me with a stable job. I thought about quitting school.
My parents were not happy about this. They told me I could only quit school if I had a job. They probably thought that I would never find one because of the financial crisis. I spent all afternoon on my bicycle, going from one business to the next. Finally a company hired me to work in their warehouse.
Even though I took this temporary position, I had a plan. I was going to be a policeman. Working for the government would be a stable way to provide for my future family and everything would work out.
I remember the day that I went to take the exams to get into the police school. I took the train early in the morning and spent all day doing all kinds of tests. At the end of the day I was called into the office. They told me I passed all the exams and they would love to have me, but because I was 17, I was too young. They told me to try again in a year.
My world was shattered, and all the way home I was thinking, “What next?” At home my dad listened to my frustration and offered to give me a blessing. I expected that the Lord was going to tell me that everything would work out and I would be admitted to the police academy in a miraculous way. Instead the Lord told me that if I would choose to put Him first, I would always have bread on my table and the means to take care of my future family.
In response to my prayers, I received the answer that, for me, putting the Lord first meant serving a full-time mission. I had always intended to do that but had not seen how one step would lead to another. Now I knew that serving a mission was what I was going to do, and I wanted to do it as soon as possible.
Back then, the cost for a mission was 10,000 guilders in old Dutch currency, or about a year’s wages. I carried on working in the warehouse and by the summer of 1981, I had my 10,000 guilders. I had also turned 18. My father, the branch president, told me I was too young for a mission, as did the district president and mission president. At that time, you needed to be 19. But on my 18th birthday I went to the doctor and the dentist all by myself and had them fill in their parts of my missionary application.
Somehow, I managed to get my leaders to interview me and submit my application. Then we waited. I didn’t know that my father, as branch president, had received a letter. The application was returned to him with the notification that I was too young. But he hadn’t wanted to share that with me yet, so he carried it around in his suit pocket for weeks without letting me know. Fortunately, in the meantime he had received another notification. It said that in some situations the Brethren were willing to let young men go earlier when they were well prepared. Soon I was called to serve and was assigned to the England London East Mission. My mission became the blessing of a lifetime.
Three months after I returned from my mission, I did meet the love of my life. A year later we were married and sealed in the London England Temple. The economy was still not in good shape, but I have always been able to have a job and provide for my family. There has always been bread on the table and a roof over our head.

My family suffered in silence regarding my brother’s struggles for a long time. We endured self-imposed shame for years. Addiction was taboo, so we didn’t talk about it. We thought drug addiction wasn’t supposed to affect families who were doing their best to live the gospel and follow Jesus Christ. We were so afraid of what people would think if they found out. My parents constantly blamed themselves for my brother’s decisions, I would hide what was happening from my friends, and we would dodge all questions about my brother. Little did we know that not talking about it made our circumstances more painful than they already were.
Now I face my brother’s addiction differently. And that’s the key word: face. For so many years, I turned away from it and hid it from everyone else, but now I face it head-on with my family. We seek support and we try to support others. As the years have gone by, we’ve discovered that addiction affects many families in many different forms—and there’s no need to feel ashamed or to hide. It needs to be talked about, and those who have been hurt by it, whether they be loved ones or those who struggle themselves, need less judgment and more support, compassion, understanding, and love. No one should have to suffer alone.

When I was twelve years old, we had a community fathers-and-sons banquet in Idaho Falls. President George Albert Smith, the President of the Church, was the speaker. After the banquet, we lined up to shake his hand. When my turn came, President Smith took my hand and spoke to me. I don’t remember what he said, but I shall never forget what I felt. From that moment, I wanted to be in the presence of the prophets.

The girls learned self-defense while the fellows considered career opportunities. Not your typical youth conference—but there’s nothing typical about Malibu, California, either.
The youth of the Los Angeles California East Stake spent their youth conference at a Malibu ranch. They began with get-acquainted games and films of the 1973 Southern California Dance Festival in which many of them had participated.
The three-day conference included a prebreakfast hike; instructions in macrame, soap carving, and decoupage; rowboat races; an obstacle course; football; volleyball; softball; self-defense for the girls; and a career workshop for the fellows. Even after all that they weren’t too tired to enjoy a session of ballroom dance instruction followed by a dance.
On the serious side the young people enjoyed guest speakers, a scripture chase, group discussions, and a testimony meeting.
Also included in the conference activities was a tug-of-war over the lake, and the losing team went for a swim. Later there was a panel discussion in which all the bishops in the stake fielded questions from the young people. It was a great success for the 150 youths who attended.

During the past months across our area, the Church History Department has conducted oral interviews with returned sister missionaries and mission leaders who served from 2011 to 2015. The worldwide collection project coincides with the tenth anniversary of youth missionary service age reduction as announced by President Thomas S. Monson (1927–2018) and the later introduction of the sister training leaders to help the mission leadership cope with the surge in the number of serving missionaries.
Conducting these interviews with this Church history focus group has blessed lives. For the sisters, sharing their stories bring to remembrance the tender mercies of the Lord as they reflect on their conversions, desire to serve, preparations, own endowments, time in the missionary training center, mission experiences and life after mission. The Church history specialists have felt the joy of service participating in this project. In many cases, it was highly emotional documenting the lives and services of these faithful sisters. It was wonderful receiving journal donations as well as seeing some pictures, mufflers and tags as they shared their stories.
We are so grateful for the lives, services and testimonies of all our faithful sisters who served missions for the Church. This project invoked beautiful sentiments among the sisters.
Here is one of such shared with us by Sister Aghojare Chika who served in Nigeria Benin City Mission about this project and its impact on her personal and family lives: “Dear Elder and Sister Ihesiene, I am very grateful for the great opportunity the prophet gave me to share my mission experience as regards to President Monson’s declaration of the new age of serving missions and including sisters in the leadership council in the mission field.
“I am grateful to you for remembering and reaching out to me to be part of those to be interviewed. I feel so privileged and honored. I am delighted to inform you that this interview has blessed my life and family miraculously.
“Honestly, before the invitation and the interview, we have been going through so many challenges and difficult times. I became so worried about my situation that I was almost going into depression. My companion (husband) tried speaking to me severally and reassuring me of things getting better but to no avail.
“During the interview, listening to the questions and recounting my challenges and difficulties while preparing for mission in 2013, most especially being beaten and slaps received about two days before my departure for MTC which left me with a bloody eye, brought me strength and hope. Remembering while I was on the field and how the Lord used me to reach out to countless numbers of His beloved children and bringing them into His fold, and to inspire my fellow missionaries especially sister missionaries as a sister training leader and strengthening many families brought me so much joy. Seeing how much the Lord has blessed me, as I was recounting my blessings during the interview, such as serving my last three months with a great member missionary who acted as our third companion as he was ready to proselyte and teach lessons with us, and who later became my eternal companion and the father of our lovely kids.
“How the Lord made me become a registered midwife with the help of the Perpetual Education Fund and my husband and above all having my family join the Church immediately after I returned from my mission were miracles beyond my comprehension and am sincerely grateful.
“Dear Elder and Sister Ihesiene, all these amazing memories remembered during the interview; and whilst on my way home brought me down on my knees in tears to converse with Heavenly Father which has been a routine for the past few weeks. But this time, instead of kneeling in tears of confusion and questions, I kneel in tears of repentance and gratitude. Since that day I have got peace beyond human understanding and a hope of better days for me and all around me even as I continue to remain faithful in my service to God and man. I will always overcome, and His blessings and promises are sure to be mine in the name of Jesus Christ”.
Indeed, how beautiful are the feet of them that preach the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ! (See Isaiah 52:7.) How profound the testimonies and lives of these wonderful sisters and mission leaders who understood that there can be no greater service rendered than to labor for the salvation of the human souls! We know that the Lord remembers these sisters for their worthy examples and immense contributions to the work of salvation. Sweet is their remembrance and eternal their rewards!

God uses another form of chastening or correction to guide us to a future we do not or cannot now envision but which He knows is the better way for us. President Hugh B. Brown, formerly a member of the Twelve and a counselor in the First Presidency, provided a personal experience. He told of purchasing a rundown farm in Canada many years ago. As he went about cleaning up and repairing his property, he came across a currant bush that had grown over six feet (1.8 m) high and was yielding no berries, so he pruned it back drastically, leaving only small stumps. Then he saw a drop like a tear on the top of each of these little stumps, as if the currant bush were crying, and thought he heard it say:

“How could you do this to me? I was making such wonderful growth. … And now you have cut me down. Every plant in the garden will look down on me. … How could you do this to me? I thought you were the gardener here.”

President Brown replied, “Look, little currant bush, I am the gardener here, and I know what I want you to be. I didn’t intend you to be a fruit tree or a shade tree. I want you to be a currant bush, and some day, little currant bush, when you are laden with fruit, you are going to say, ‘Thank you, Mr. Gardener, for loving me enough to cut me down.’”

Years later, President Brown was a field officer in the Canadian Army serving in England. When a superior officer became a battle casualty, President Brown was in line to be promoted to general, and he was summoned to London. But even though he was fully qualified for the promotion, it was denied him because he was a Mormon. The commanding general said in essence, “You deserve the appointment, but I cannot give it to you.” What President Brown had spent 10 years hoping, praying, and preparing for slipped through his fingers in that moment because of blatant discrimination. Continuing his story, President Brown remembered:

“I got on the train and started back … with a broken heart, with bitterness in my soul. … When I got to my tent, … I threw my cap … on the cot. I clinched my fists and I shook them at heaven. I said, ‘How could you do this to me, God? I have done everything I could do to measure up. There is nothing that I could have done—that I should have done—that I haven’t done. How could you do this to me?’ I was as bitter as gall.

“And then I heard a voice, and I recognized the tone of this voice. It was my own voice, and the voice said, ‘I am the gardener here. I know what I want you to do.’ The bitterness went out of my soul, and I fell on my knees by the cot to ask forgiveness for my ungratefulness. …

“… And now, almost fifty years later, I look up to [God] and say, ‘Thank you, Mr. Gardener, for cutting me down, for loving me enough to hurt me.’”

God knew what Hugh B. Brown was to become and what was needed for that to happen, and He redirected his course to prepare him for the holy apostleship.

Six weeks later I was baptised and committed to becoming the very best I could be. My testimony was much bigger than my actual knowledge of the gospel, so I was frantically studying and seeking answers. Trying to keep the Sabbath day holy was difficult with a husband who was not a member.
I asked a visiting District Presidency member to give me a list of things to avoid—what I was not allowed to do. He told me to avoid any activity that would pull me away from God. So I asked him for a list of things I must or should do. He told me to do all those things that would help me draw nearer to God.
At the time I didn’t think he was very helpful at all, but keeping the Sabbath day holy isn’t about lists of do’s and don’ts. There is no scorecard where we add up the ticks to pass. For me it is about learning and growing, recharging my spirit and refocussing myself and my life on achieving my eternal potential—striving to become more like the Saviour. This week I may spend six hours working on family history; next week I may lie on cushions in the lounge reading Book of Mormon stories with my granddaughter. The 2-hour church schedule gives us a little more time to work on the areas where we need the most growth. The new curriculum materials are designed to empower us as we teach our families AND strive to perfect ourselves. We all have different strengths and weaknesses, and we’re all at different stages of our development, so our choices will be personal and may be totally different from those of another family.