Gospel Story Finder

When my daughter ‘Ofa, graduated from BYU–Hawaii few years ago, I asked her the question most parents ask their children when they graduate from college: “Now that you’re graduated, what are you going to do with your life?” She smiled with confidence and said, “What else do you expect? I came here to learn. Now I’m ready to serve. I’m going to serve a mission.” She served an honorable mission in the Auckland New Zealand Mission, and she is now attending BYU–Provo and serving faithfully in her YSA ward.

As mission president, he again found the Book of Mormon to be a constant source of inspiration, and he used it extensively in zone meetings and in counseling with the missionaries. He was an efficient, compassionate mission president. One of his missionaries, Wayne L. Gardner, remembers serving in an outlying area and receiving the assignment to make arrangements for a conference. “Everything went wrong,” he says. “I had scheduled a building for us to meet in, but at the last minute it was cancelled. By the time I got to the airport to get the president, I was late and he had been waiting. I forgot to ask the taxi driver to wait for us, and there weren’t any others in sight. We were stranded.
“Even though I could see frustration in the president’s eyes, he put his arm around me and told me he loved me. He was so patient and understanding. I hope I never forget that lesson.”

Elder Andersen explained how he felt when he was called to The Quorum of The Twelve Apostles. He said when he first sat in the seat that Elder Ulisses Soares now occupies, he looked up the row at the other 11 Apostles and the First Presidency, and feelings of personal inadequacy overwhelmed him. When I heard Elder Andersen say that, I sat up straight in my chair because I knew that what he had just said—and what he was going to say next—was specifically for me.
Elder Andersen said he struggled with this issue for a while and then it came: He heard the voice of the Lord say, “Neil, you did not put yourself there. I did, because I love you, and I know you can change, and I know you can help with my work.”

Promised blessings vary from person to person according to need. Sometimes it may even seem that the blessings promised could not ever be fulfilled, but we need to remember that our Heavenly Father sees things from a different perspective than we do. For example, Elder Thomas S. Monson, Second Counselor in the First Presidency, tells this story:
“Several years ago a patriarch gave a blessing to a teenage girl … who lived in Poland. In the blessing he felt impressed to promise her that she would marry in a temple of the Lord. He hesitated to give that promise, for there was absolutely no way for her to leave Poland allowing her to marry in a temple. But he responded to the whisperings of the Spirit and gave the girl the promise.
“After giving the blessing, the patriarch came to my office and asked, ‘Did I do the right thing?’ I indicated that a man always does the right thing when he responds to the whisperings of the Holy Spirit. He said, ‘But I have bestowed a promise which cannot be fulfilled.’ I replied, ‘Let us trust in the Lord with all our hearts …’ Within a period of two years, a pact was signed between Poland and Germany that permitted those of Germanic origin to return to West Germany. That lovely teenage girl moved to Germany where she would be free to go to the temple of the Lord when the time came for her marriage.” (Scandinavian Area Conference, August 1976, page 10.)

The movie Camelot has a great sequence where Merlin, who is youthening (By that, the writers mean he has lived in the future and is moving towards the present. Thus, he already knows what will be happening. ), decides the best way to help the man who is now King Arthur be clear about his purposes is to have him become a fish and swim with the other fish, learning from his experience. As he does, Merlin asks the question, “What are you learning as a fish?” Arthur’s responds, “Oh not very much. Big fish eat little fish, just like everywhere else; somehow that does not seem right does it?” Then Merlin has him become a hawk and fly high over the land. He asks, “Tell me what you see.” Arthur’s responds, “I see lakes, trees, forest,” and Merlin asks, “Can you see the next county?” Arthur responds that he can, but he cannot see the edges. Merlin asks, “Can you see the edges when you are down here?” Arthur’s responds, “Of course I can, the boundaries are clearly marked.” Again, Merlin asks, “So what do you know as a hawk you did not know as Arthur?” Thus was brought to his remembrance the two foundations of the knights of the roundtable and his purposes as King: Might for right, the strong helping the weak, and one England, not separated by boundaries into fiefdoms.

One day I bought a song I’d heard on the radio. After it downloaded, I realized it was an explicit version. I was so disappointed because I’d wanted to listen to the radio’s clean version. I deleted the song from my library, sad that I’d wasted my money on a bad song.
I decided to email the people at the music store, saying that I was unable to listen to the song I bought because it was against my standards. Surprisingly, the next day I got an email with an apology and a free song credit.
I didn’t end up buying that song at all, because I realized I didn’t even feel good about the clean version. It helped me realize that I need to focus on the music I listen to and that I can correct my mistakes, even something as simple as buying the wrong song. I also realized how much the prophet’s guidance really does help.

At 92 years old, Sister Marie Giles is a shining example of unwavering faith, commitment and service.
During the lockdown, she has sewn scrub bags and masks, knitted hats for Syrian refugees, baby hats and blankets for Poole Maternity Unit and gloves for the homeless. She has also contributed food for Hope for Food, a local organisation which serves the vulnerable and homeless in the community. She has made meals for the missionaries, cakes, pickles, jams and lemon curd for ward members and for those to whom she ministers.
Sister Giles also cares for her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. She has recently organised a temple week for her family who are spread out over three continents. Realising that they can’t presently attend the temple, she has arranged for a week of daily temple/family history activities. This will start with a virtual fireside to introduce and motivate all the members of the family, including of course, the young great-grandchildren.
Sister Giles joined the Church, against the wishes of her family who initially disowned her, after being tracted by the missionaries 62 years ago.
Since then, she has served as branch and district Primary president, as a stake Relief Society president, as a stake Young Women president, in the mission Relief Society presidency, as a Relief Society teacher, as a chorister, as a Sunday School teacher, as a visiting teacher and ministering sister, as a family history consultant and for the last thirty years as a temple worker.
Neither age, a recent diagnosis of illness nor current COVID conditions have halted Sister Marie’s determination to serve as she always has.
What an inspirational example of a continuing life of service.

Brothers, sisters, and friends, in 2013 my wife, Laurel, and I were called to serve as mission leaders in the Czech/Slovak Mission. Our four children served with us. We were blessed as a family with brilliant missionaries and by the remarkable Czech and Slovak Saints. We love them.
As our family entered the mission field, something Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin taught went with us. In a talk titled “The Great Commandment,” Elder Wirthlin asked, “Do you love the Lord?” His counsel to those of us who would answer yes was simple and profound: “Spend time with Him. Meditate on His words. Take His yoke upon you. Seek to understand and obey.” Elder Wirthlin then promised transformative blessings to those willing to give time and place to Jesus Christ.
We took Elder Wirthlin’s counsel and promise to heart. Together with our missionaries, we spent extended time with Jesus, studying Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John from the New Testament and 3 Nephi from the Book of Mormon. At the end of every missionary meeting, we found ourselves back in what we referred to as the “Five Gospels,” reading, discussing, considering, and learning about Jesus.
For me, for Laurel, and for our missionaries, spending time with Jesus in the scriptures changed everything. We gained a deeper appreciation for who He was and what was important to Him. Together we considered how He taught, what He taught, the ways He showed love, what He did to bless and serve, His miracles, how He responded to betrayal, what He did with difficult human emotions, His titles and names, how He listened, how He resolved conflict, the world He lived in, His parables, how He encouraged unity and kindness, His capacity to forgive and to heal, His sermons, His prayers, His atoning sacrifice, His Resurrection, His gospel.
We often felt like the “[short] of stature” Zacchaeus running to climb a sycamore tree as Jesus passed through Jericho because, as Luke described it, we “sought to see Jesus who he was.” It was not Jesus as we wanted or wished Him to be, but rather Jesus as He really was and is. Just as Elder Wirthlin had promised, we learned in a very real way that “the gospel of Jesus Christ is a gospel of transformation. It takes us as men and women of the earth and refines us into men and women for the eternities.”
Those were special days. We came to believe that “with God nothing shall be impossible.” Sacred afternoons in Prague, Bratislava, or Brno, experiencing the power and reality of Jesus, continue to resonate in all of our lives.

I could run a long way in a minute.
Yesterday …
I ran two miles yesterday, like every other day. Fifteen laps, mouth shut all the way, to strengthen the heart and lungs.
Two miles a day, whether I felt like it or not.
I never could work out a labor-saving system for running two miles. Sometimes I tried running with short, quick strides, not lifting my feet very high off the track, and sometimes I tried bounding along with great, high strides. But no matter what method I used, two miles were still two miles, and every inch of them had to be run in the very old-fashioned way of throwing one foot in front of the other for as many times as it took to carry me all the way across the finish line.
There’s no way to sleight-of-hand a two-mile run …
The first two laps were always the hardest, because that was as far as most of the other fellows ever ran. I’d seen them come onto the track, run their two laps, and quit.
Some of them quit sooner.
Sometimes one of them would pass me, running just as hard as he could go, and I’d be tempted to race him. It bothered me to have anyone pass me on the track.
But I’d let him go, and in a lap or two I’d pass him back.
Sometimes he’d be walking, sometimes he’d be standing still, and sometimes he’d be doubled over at the edge of the track, gasping for breath like a chronic smoker.
I had fifteen laps to go, and I didn’t dare forget it. I had my choice of racing with the sprinters or running my fifteen laps.
One or the other.
But not both.
I did race with the sprinters a few times …
The competition was a thrill!
I’d be running along at a good two-mile speed, and I’d hear one of these sprinters coming up behind me, moving fast. He’d swing out around me and start to pass, and I’d let him get two or three strides ahead of me; then I’d hit it with all the speed I had and pass him like a blur!
Or else I’d pass him slowly, staying just a chest ahead of him, until he was at his absolute limit.
Then I’d move like a race horse and show him what a distance runner could do in an all-out sprint!
One day I walked onto the track and sprinted for two laps, keeping to the outer edge of the track and passing every man in sight.
I couldn’t stand to have the sprinters think that I was a distance runner only because I didn’t have the power and speed to sprint. I fed my ego, but I used up the wind I needed for my two miles.
I decided I had to choose between my wind and my ego. I chose my wind.
In a marathon, ego is no substitute for endurance.
I had to coexist with the sprinters. I had no more to gain by racing them in their sprints than they did by racing me in my distance runs.
I never raced them again.
If I raced with them, I didn’t make my fifteen laps.
You can’t win your own game by playing someone else at his, even if you beat him. There’s no way in the world you can win your own game without playing your own game …
And somewhere along the line, I made a decision in cold blood—my game was the two-mile game; I was running to win.
After that I ran my two miles every day, at a two-mile pace, and left the sprinting to the sprinters.
But the first two laps were still the hardest. That was probably because I could always think of so many good reasons why I should quit at the end of the first two laps.
There was only one way I could get past that point—I just had to grit my teeth and keep on running.
And I did …
The rest of the first mile was easier, but at the end of it was another mental barrier. After running one mile all the way to the finish line, I found myself at the starting line of another mile to run, and knew that I had to begin at the beginning and do it all over again.
I tried to ignore the quitter hidden in my mind, the traitor who liked to relax in a mental easy chair and taunt me: “A mile’s enough for anyone …”
I had to keep complete control crossing that dual line, the quitter-killer line, where quitters quit and winners keep on running.
That line killed a lot of quitters …
But once I crossed the line, I crossed the border into a new world, where the air came easier, and my body was lighter, and my brain was quicker and clearer.
The ultimate reward for running the first mile was the opportunity to run the second.
The second mile …
A mile of meditation, and even … relaxation. My brain was rich with oxygen, and I did some of my best thinking bounding along that second mile.
I thought of the physical world and its laws, and I thought of the fine arts and their expression, and I thought of people and their feelings. Especially the people I loved.
And sometimes I pretended she would be there waiting for me, just beyond the finish line …
Why didn’t I tell her how I loved her?
* * *
The last minute must be running out.
The game is finished.
And it wasn’t a two-mile game …
The heart is dead. All used up. Like a candle sputtering out when the last drop of wax is burned away.
Still …
This heart carried me over a lot of miles …
It was a two-mile heart. The heart of the two-mile game …
Can it really be dead?
How can it be dead?
I don’t believe …
I don’t believe it can be dead!
Come on, you two-mile heart! You CAN‘T be dead!
I have things I haven’t finished yet. I have things I haven’t even begun …
Beat! You can!
Beat! You will!
BEAT! I feel it coming …
BEAT! Almost …
THERE!
It beat!
I FELT it beat!
Exhausted …
Relax …
The first two are the hardest …
Now …
Beat! Almost …
Again, with more will …
BEAT!
Nothing …
Was the first time only my imagination?
For her sake …
BEAT!
AGAIN!
I felt it beat again!
AGAIN! …
Again! …
Again …
Again …
The second mile …
The mile of meditation …
Relaxation …
And very soon I’ll tell her how I love her …
“Nurse …”
“Yes; how are you feeling now?” “Much better, thanks, Would you let me have a pen and paper, please? I’d like to write a Christmas letter.”
* * *
The first mile is finished. The second is yet to run.
The second mile …
A soft, golden path, winding through green grass and tall trees, and leading—
Somewhere …
To her?
We’ll see where it leads. It’s a two-mile game, and it isn’t finished yet.
And now …
Now I’ll tell her how I love her …

Okay, David, take it away.
“At Christmastime, I got my entire ward together and we had a collection of toys and food for needy families in our ward and stake area. We had one gentleman in the ward dress up like Santa Claus, and I put on a red hat—I was Santa’s helper—and we went door to door delivering food and toys. When we knocked on the doors and said ‘It’s Santa Claus,’ the kids’ jaws dropped. They were so happy, all of them jumping around.”

When I was 16, I participated in a student foreign-exchange program for a year. I went from my home in Ukraine to a small town in Arizona, USA, where I stayed with a Latter-day Saint family. I had never heard of Latter-day Saints before.
The exchange program didn’t allow the family to preach to me, and I wasn’t allowed to meet with the missionaries. But I chose to attend church with my host family and participate in all Church activities.
I felt the Spirit with that family, and I felt much love at church. At that time I didn’t know that what I was feeling was the Spirit, but my heart was touched.
When I returned to Ukraine, I missed that feeling very much. I remembered how my life was when I went to church and lived gospel teachings. I realized what was missing, but there was no church and no missionaries where I lived, so I thought I would never have that feeling again.
About four years later, however, some missionaries knocked on my door. I was so happy to see them. While they were out working, they had listened to the Spirit, which led them to my house. I’m so grateful they were obedient. I was baptized and confirmed soon afterward.
Since then I have been sealed in the Stockholm Sweden Temple to my husband, a returned missionary who is from Russia. And now there’s a temple in Kyiv. We plan to attend regularly.
The temple is the most amazing place on earth. It is a place where you can be close to Heavenly Father. I feel so grateful that in the temple we can receive one of the greatest gifts given to us by Heavenly Father: to be sealed as families for eternity.
I am grateful to the members of that Latter-day Saint family who helped me feel the Spirit, starting me on a journey that would lead to a family of my own that is sealed together forever.

Colonel Thomas Kane, a special representative of James Polk, president of the United States, visited the Mormon pioneers in 1846 while they camped in Iowa, preparing to cross the Missouri River. He had read newspaper articles about the Saints, describing how they had frequently been persecuted and driven from their homes. As he walked through the woods near the outskirts of the camp, he came upon a lone pioneer who was secretly praying. Thomas stood quietly listening to the man humbly express thanks for the restored gospel and petition for the Saints’ protection during their travels.
Thomas was very moved by this experience, and he became a lifelong friend of the Mormons, although he never joined the Church.

I have just finished reading “Taking upon Us His Name” in the April 1982 New Era. It is exactly the article I needed to read at this time. Thank you!
My only daughter, Audrey, and I were both baptized in 1976. She was 15 at the time. She went on to Ricks College, where she met her husband. They were married in the Idaho Falls Temple in December of 1980, and they are expecting their first child in late June. I’m so very happy for them.
On the other hand, since Audrey is gone, I’m all alone in the Church. I have gone to church alone and prayed alone. My spirituality has slowly dwindled away. It’s not much fun when an individual doesn’t have anyone in the family to communicate with on a spiritual level. I have prayed for my spirituality to come back. This article by Sister Ardeth Kapp has increased my testimony quite a bit.
How frail our mortal testimony can be when we are not encouraged by others, be it family or friends. I realized while reading that article that I don’t really need outside help. What matters most is what I feel deep in my heart. All I need is to know that our Heavenly Father loves me unconditionally.
I will continue to pray that other members of my family will be touched by the Holy Spirit as Audrey and I were. I pray that they will someday soon know all about the only true Church here on the earth. I read the New Era from cover to cover every time it comes.
Marina DouganCalgary, Alberta, Canada

When I graduated in 1970 with a BA in history, I considered many options for a career but decided to pursue a master’s degree in library science, which was then offered here. In 1972 I began working at BYU as the assistant curator of Special Collections. The work was interesting, challenging, and satisfying. But for some reason—I can’t even imagine what it was now—I was restless and wanted to do something different and more challenging.

I told my wife I wanted to go to law school. “Are you sure?” was her reply. “Oh yes, positive. No question about it,” was no doubt my answer—or something like that. So I did everything aspiring law students do: LSAT, countless applications, prayer, fasting, and more prayer. Since my wife is from Vermont, we decided we’d apply to schools in the East. I was admitted to Syracuse University’s School of Law in 1975, so we sold our house, packed up our belongings, and moved our family—two young girls and one more baby on the way—to Syracuse, New York.

Zenos described this process of transplantation: “And behold, saith the Lord of the vineyard, I take away many of these young and tender branches, and I will graft them whithersoever I will.”5 And so we were grafted in, in another part of the kingdom.

I didn’t realize it at the time, but I later learned that when young BYU graduates move into communities around the world, local ward and branch leaders have great expectations that they will arrive with strong leadership skills, a solid testimony of the gospel, and the ability to assume with confidence any calling in the Church. A BYU education is outstanding preparation for graduate school and successful careers. It also prepares you for leadership positions in the community and in the Church.

So we were welcomed by Church members in Syracuse with excitement and expectation. We felt the Lord had indeed grafted us into this ward by calling us to Church assignments of service.

But something felt surprisingly uneasy about my experience in law school. After the first year I knew I wouldn’t be comfortable practicing law. When I discussed my uneasiness with my wife, she was less than sympathetic, saying something to this effect: “You’ve moved us halfway across the country; you’re going to finish law school!” She’s a tough lady; but she’s also generally right.

So persevere I did, and, as instructed, I graduated. Somewhere during my last year of law school I got the idea of becoming an FBI agent. I suppose I was intrigued by what I thought would be the excitement of law enforcement and investigative work. The idea never occurred to me that perhaps I wouldn’t be suited for such a profession. My patriarchal blessing contains language indicating that I would succeed at the vocation of my choice. In my own somewhat convoluted reasoning, I presumed that this meant that I only had to choose an honorable profession and success would be assured.

Those of you who have applied for a federal job know that the wheels of our national government can move painfully slow. I went through the psychological screening, personal interviews, foreign language testing, and physical examinations rather quickly. Then I waited . . . and waited . . . and waited for something to happen. Fifteen months after graduation I was finally invited to join a new agents class at the FBI Academy in Quantico, Virginia.

Needless to say, I was excited, nervous, and optimistic about my future. I felt like I stood on the threshold of a promising and successful career. I had talked with many FBI, CIA, and Secret Service agents and believed I truly could excel in law enforcement.

The first few weeks of new agent training went very well. There was classroom instruction in various aspects of case investigations, psychology, and constitutional law, along with challenging physical fitness goals to meet and firearms instruction. About four weeks into training we were introduced to the indoor firing range. As I stood on the firing line, ready to fire at the target some 25 yards away, the overhead lights went out. The only lights on in the range were over the target. I raised my gun and pointed it down range. I couldn’t see the sight on the end of the barrel! I blinked my eyes—no change. There was just a blur where the sight should be. I fired six wildly inaccurate shots at the target. I couldn’t believe what was happening! I had fired effectively on the outdoor range, but my eyes were doing strange things to me in the subdued lighting of the indoor range. My instructors pulled me aside and asked what was happening. I said I didn’t know, but I was encouraged that they were willing to work with me to get through what we all thought would be a simple training problem.

One Saturday shortly after that, I checked out from the armory a “red handle,” a weapon that had its firing pin removed, and went into the woods to practice dry firing at targets. It was a cloudy day, and I had the same experience as on the indoor range. The sight on the end of the barrel disappeared in a blur. “This can’t be happening,” I thought. “Maybe I should pray about this,” I reasoned. Enos, the Book of Mormon prophet, had a “wrestle before God” that resulted in the remission of his sins.6 But it wasn’t sin I was trying to free myself of—it was a physical condition that seriously hampered my ability to fire my weapon accurately. So for hours I wandered the woods, alternately firing and praying. Things, however, didn’t get better.

As luck would have it, my wife had our fourth child just a few days later, and I was given permission to fly back for the weekend to Connecticut, where she was staying with her parents. While in Hartford I was able to visit my eye doctor about my problem on the firing range. He told me that because of the severe astigmatism that I have in each eye, I couldn’t hope for any vision improvement. My wife and I discussed our options, which were basically to try to stick with it and hope I could qualify on the firing range or to resign from the Bureau. On the flight back to Washington, D.C., I thought about my situation and remembered Elder Brown and his story of the gardener and the currant bush. Why was God doing this to me? Hadn’t I been promised that I would succeed in the vocation of my choosing? Why was I being subjected to this painful pruning?

The next day I met with the special agent who was our class counselor and told him of my situation. I explained how uncomfortable I felt carrying a gun that I knew I would not be able to fire accurately in certain lighting conditions. I would not only be a danger to criminals, I’d be a hazard to my fellow agents! This burden was too much for me. I decided that I would resign my position as a special agent. I wrote out a statement to this effect and handed it to him. He said he would pass it on to the FBI Academy director. I went back to my room and began to pack my bags.

As I sat alone in my room, I felt at peace in my heart, knowing I had done the right thing. I realized that the promise I had been given in my patriarchal blessing would be honored if I carefully and prayerfully chose a profession that the Lord wanted me to pursue—not one that I selected merely because it was glamorous or exciting.

As I pondered the future, my counselor returned and asked me if I would consider a non-agent position in the Bureau. There were several openings at the academy I might be qualified for, he explained. Since I didn’t have anything else lined up, I told him I would consider it. I called Cindy and asked her what she thought about a position at the Bureau. Since she was eager to be together again as a family, she told me I should accept a position if I was offered one.

I spoke with several agents who had openings in their departments—or “units,” as the Bureau calls them—and was offered a position in the Office of Institutional Research and Development. It turned out to be a valuable opportunity to meet important people in the Bureau and to learn new skills.

One of the people I eventually met was the chief of the director’s speechwriting unit at FBI headquarters in Washington. A year or so later, when he had an opening in his unit for a speechwriter, he asked me to apply. I did and was offered the job.

It was the beginning of a new career for me. When people find out that for 15 years I was a speechwriter—not just for the FBI but later for the American Medical Association in Chicago, for Merck (a pharmaceutical company in New Jersey), and for Medtronic (a medical device company in Minneapolis)—they comment that this must have been interesting work. It was. But the most interesting parts of all of our experiences in these places were the wonderful people we met, both members of the Church and nonmembers. We enjoyed many choice opportunities to serve in the kingdom and to associate with some of God’s noble and great ones. My wife and I have felt as though the Lord has cultivated us, just as the lord of the vineyard in Zenos’ allegory had cultivated his precious olive trees. I hope that the fruit we have borne—and continue to bear—is sweet and satisfying to Him and to those we serve.

My Church assignments require me to do considerable traveling throughout the world. When I arrive in a city, a stake president or one of his counselors usually meets me at the airport. Although seldom if ever have I met him before, I can invariably find him among the crowd of watchers at the gate and can walk up to him and greet him. He can also recognize me among the crowd of deplaning passengers. A certain amount of publicity is associated with our work as General Authorities. Our pictures appear in various magazines and news articles, so I can explain how he can recognize me from having seen my picture. But how is it that I can so readily recognize him?
Just this January, Sister Burton and I were walking along a street in Rio de Janeiro, when I saw a man walk past us who appeared as though he would make a good Mormon. I thought to myself, “If I could only speak Portuguese, there would be a fine missionary contact.” He stopped ahead of us to look in a shop window and as he did so, he turned facing us. When he saw us he waited until we came up to him and then spoke to us in English. We returned his greeting and he asked us if we were Americans. We replied in the affirmative and he asked, “Are you perchance Mormons?” I replied, “Yes. What do you know about the Mormons?” He told us he was a Mormon also and we had a lovely visit with him. We learned he was a bishop’s counselor in one of the Rio Wards. We met him again in a conference session, along with other wonderful Latter-day Saints who lived in that beautiful city. How was it that we could recognize one another among the teeming thousands of people walking along that busy street?
A question asked by one of the ancient prophets in the Book of Mormon gives an answer. He was talking to church members when he said:
“And now behold, I ask of you, my brethren of the church, have ye spiritually been born of God? Have ye received his image in your countenances? Have ye received this mighty change in your hearts?” (Alma 5:14.)
What a challenging question not only to them, but to us also! If we truly accept God in our lives and live in accordance with his commandments, God will work a mighty change in our appearance and we will begin to appear more like our Heavenly Father, in whose image we have been created. Could it be this appearance we recognize when we meet men and women who are trying to live close to the Lord?
The prophet then goes on to say this about the final day of judgment which someday each one of us must face:
“I say unto you, can ye look up to God at that day with a pure heart and clean hands? I say unto you, can you look up, having the image of God engraven upon your countenances?” (Alma 5:19.)
I dare not say that Mormons are perfect, for you know as well as I do that we each have many human faults. We do, however, call ourselves saints as did the members of the Church of Jesus Christ in the days of the original apostles. When those apostles wrote letters to the members of the Church they addressed them as saints. A saint is not necessarily a person who is perfect, but he is a person who strives for perfection—one who tries to overcome those faults and failings which take him away from God. A true saint will seek to change his manner of living to conform more closely to the ways of the Lord.
It is true that we each have imperfections to overcome. Life is a constant series of challenges and trials. Notwithstanding, we should never fail to strive for that perfection of life which can bring us closer into harmony with God. As the apostle Paul said in writing to the Philippians:
“I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus. Let us therefore, as many as [would] be [come] perfect, be thus minded: and if in anything ye be otherwise minded, God shall reveal even this unto you.” (Philip. 3:14–15.)
Thus we should seek to overcome any discovered fault in our characters which tends to take us away from a total commitment to God.
I would like to speak about that principle of dedication or total commitment. It appears to me that when we join the Church of Jesus Christ and especially when we receive the oath and covenant of the priesthood, we should commit ourselves wholly and completely to the cause of God. By this I do not mean we need give up our daily occupations or our interests in the daily affairs of mankind unless we are called by authority from God to do so. I do mean that a true change must occur in our thinking so complete and so total that our very lives are changed for the better as far as our attitudes and our actions are concerned.
A person’s attitude is perhaps the hardest of all personal attributes to change. If your attitude is right, then your life is made right. If your heart is touched, your mind and way of thinking will change and your life will change for the better accordingly. I believe we must become so immersed in the gospel of Jesus Christ that we become physically as well as mentally more and more like the Lord himself. We must yield our whole hearts to him. What we then do is done not because we are asked to, nor because we are forced to, but because we want to. Neither pressure nor force can be exerted upon us from outside, when what we do is done because it is our own choice and desire. It then makes no difference to us what other men may think, or say, or do. Our hearts being committed wholly to God, what we do is done out of our love for and our trust in him. We then serve God in every way we can because we have been converted, our attitude has been changed and we now desire to become like him both spiritually and physically.
If we believe in Jesus Christ that completely, then we can say as did the people of King Benjamin that we know of a surety of the truth of the gospel:
“… because of the Spirit of the Lord God Omnipotent, which has wrought a mighty change in us, or in our hearts, that we have no more disposition to do evil, but to do good continually.” (Mosiah 5:2.)
When I speak then of total commitment, I do not refer to a momentary dedication which comes from being filled with the Spirit of God only on certain occasions such as in this conference. I refer to a daily or continuing spirit of devotion and dedication which comes from keeping all the commandments of God every day. We must not pick and choose which commandment of God we will or will not obey. Every one is important. For example, we cannot postpone genealogical research, temple work, or missionary work until after we retire. When we accept Jesus Christ, we accept his apostles and prophets and his total concept of Christian living. We then gladly accept the admonition of God’s servants and willingly have family prayer, hold family home evening, keep a year’s supply of food on hand for emergencies, send our sons and daughters on missions, keep the fast, pay an honest tithe, care for the poor and the needy, and are kind and thoughtful and considerate of others. We willingly become saviors for our families and go to the temple regularly to officiate in behalf of our kindred dead who have sacrificed so much for us.
When we therefore understand this principle of commitment, we will realize the importance of priesthood genealogy and temple work. The Lord said that unless the hearts of the fathers are turned to their children and unless the hearts of the children are turned to their fathers, this earth life would fail its purpose. Genealogical work is therefore important and we should get on with it. Yet it will succeed no faster than the bishops in the individual wards give leadership to this program. It will succeed no faster than stake presidents in their individual stakes become actively involved in priesthood genealogical work. There are those who say that they are too busy to give leadership to this program, but I believe such persons fail to understand that it is a basic priesthood program given us by God. Will God’s work fail in its purpose? Is anything too difficult for God? The answer we all know. God’s purposes will be fulfilled by those servants he has chosen to lead out in this work. It is this total commitment, this dedication of purpose, this unfailing faith in God’s work that I am referring to, not only in this, but in all priesthood programs.
From the following scripture, it is clear that the admonition to become totally committed to the cause of Jesus Christ is important to all, especially to those who regard themselves as members of the Church of Jesus Christ in good standing:
“And we know also, that sanctification through the grace of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ is just and true, to all those who love and serve God with all their mights, minds and strength.
“But there is a possibility that man may fall from grace and depart from the living God;
“Therefore let the church take heed and pray always, lest they fall into temptation;
“Yea, and even let those who are sanctified take heed also.” (D&C 20:31–34.)
As I understand this scripture, it means that Jesus Christ is kind and merciful to us when we serve him with our whole hearts, but not any of us can take refuge in past righteousness or service. It also means that there is a possibility that any one of us can fall out of good standing, even those who have already achieved a certain degree of righteousness. Therefore, we need to be on our constant guard, each of us, that we not allow ourselves to fall into habits of carelessness in our faith, in our prayers, or in our various Church activities or responsibilities. It is for this reason that I am resolving again to live closer to God each day and to follow his chosen prophets and apostles more diligently than I have ever done in the past.
As the coming of the Lord approaches, Satan’s pressure on us will increase. We will thus have to live closer to the Lord than we have ever done before. I resolve to do this for I know that God lives. I know that Jesus Christ is his Only Begotten Son, and that these brethren who we sustain as our leaders are true apostles and prophets. They have been called and ordained of God to lead us back into his very presence. I invite all of you who hear my voice or who read this message to take heed as the scriptures have indicated, and that you rededicate yourselves in a total commitment to serve the Lord with all your heart, might, mind, and strength. I so pray in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

Norberto and his family were brought into the Church through an uncle they call “Ton Ton.” Ton Ton bought their family a subscription to the Church magazine in French in 1985. So when he visited the family in 1991, they already had an idea of what the Church was about. Ton Ton said, “The Church has now come to Madagascar. Let’s go find it.”

They found the meetinghouse, but the first time the family attended, Norberto’s father, Elie, couldn’t go. He still had responsibilities with the young men’s group in another church. Norberto’s mother, Esther, came home from that first meeting and told her husband, “We’ve found the right church.” Elie went with them the next week, and the entire family accepted the gospel. Norberto was a baby at the time. He was baptized when he turned eight, even though he was afraid to go under the water.

Do you know what it means to minister? Think about this question while I tell you about a girl named Chy Johnson.

When Chy started high school last year, she became the victim of cruel and thoughtless bullying. She was mistreated, shoved, and taunted as she walked to class—some students even threw garbage at her. You have probably seen people mistreated like this in your school too.

For too many people, the teenage years are a time of loneliness and fear. It doesn’t have to be this way. Fortunately for Chy, there were young men at her school who understood what it means to minister.

Chy’s mother had asked teachers at the school to help stop the bullying, but it continued. She then contacted Carson Jones, an Aaronic Priesthood holder and the starting quarterback of the football team. She asked him to help her find out who was doing the bullying.

Carson agreed to help, but in his heart he felt that he could do much more than just identify the bullies. The Spirit whispered to him that he needed to help Chy feel loved.

Carson asked some of his teammates to join him in ministering to Chy. They invited her to sit with them during lunch. They walked her to class to make sure she was safe. Not surprisingly, with football players as her close friends, no one bullied Chy anymore.

This was an exciting season for the football team. But even with the thrill of an undefeated season, these young men did not forget about Chy. They invited her to join the team on the field after games. Chy felt loved and appreciated. She felt safe. She was happy.

The football team went on to win the state title. But something more important than a football championship happened at their school. The example of these young men has motivated other students to be more accepting, more friendly. They now treat each other with more kindness and respect.

National news media found out what these young men had done and shared their story across the country. What began as an effort to minister to one is inspiring thousands of others to do the same.

Chy’s mother calls these young men “angels in disguise.” Carson and his friends are quick to say that Chy has blessed their lives much more than they blessed hers. That’s what happens when you lose yourself in serving others—you find yourself. You change and grow in ways that would not be possible otherwise. These young men have experienced the joy of ministering and continue to seek opportunities to bless others. They are anxious to extend their ministering in the coming months when they serve as full-time missionaries.

I have a friend, Brother George Goff, who attributes his conversion and continued growth in the Church to this kind of friendshipping and fellowshipping. Let me read a part of his story.

When my wife, Linda, and I moved to Waco, Texas, in 1969, I could feel something unusual was going to happen. We were active Southern Baptists and had a conservative life-style. When we attended our first company party, we felt a little uneasy, but soon identified with some people who felt as we did. When Leo Weidner entered, the group started to ask him jokingly if he had brought his own root beer again. It soon became apparent that he didn’t need alcohol to have a good time. I was impressed with his jovial spirit and the next day asked him about his religious beliefs. He immediately told me he was a Latter-day Saint and invited us to his ward to a missionary meeting on the Book of Mormon.

As soon as I heard the Joseph Smith story and saw his picture in the grove, I knew the Church was true. I bore my testimony to family and friends and they expressed how disturbed they were with my “odd behavior.”

Brother Weidner gave us constant attention and soon introduced us to a new couple who had joined the home office. This couple, Del and Vergie Rogers, became a tremendous force in our conversion. They became our friends and discovered our individual needs. Although the Spirit had touched me, I still had an unquenchable desire to know doctrine. They supplied full-time missionaries, standard works, missionary seminars, and everything possible to help us gain this knowledge.

Linda made it apparent that she really wasn’t interested in changing churches. Vergie Rogers told us later that she decided to “just become Linda’s good friend and not mention religion anymore.” Through this friendship she found that Linda had a great interest in genealogy and food storage. Linda even became so enthusiastic that we bought a full year’s supply of food before we joined the Church.

Because Texas was our home and there were few Latter-day Saints in our area, these three people had tough resistance in convincing us to make a religious change. They fellowshipped us constantly for a year before we were baptized. Almost every week we were invited to their homes for dinner or ice cream, or we were invited to movies, Church socials, and Church meetings. They were so sincerely interested in us that we really couldn’t feel intimidated. At our baptism and afterwards we had total evidence of the sincerity of these Saints:
1. A former mission president (Sanford Eliason) traveled 120 miles to speak at our baptism.
2. The new mission president (Carlos E. Asay) wrote a letter of congratulations and gave us constant encouragement after our baptism.
3. Del and Vergie Rogers traveled 1,400 miles to attend the Los Angeles Temple with us a year after our baptism.
4. Recently Leo Weidner told me how he considered me as a brother and has really proved it by being close when I needed a helping hand.
Everyone who fellowshipped us has shown as much help and friendship over the last seven years as they did before our baptism.

Although the Spirit moved with us quickly, we could have never had the strength to face the adversity of leaving family beliefs and old friendships without these new friends. No material goods ever replace the true and sincere friend. And these friendships have survived even though hundreds of miles now separate all of us.

I hurriedly stuffed my “stripes” and whistle into my tote bag, dreading the long winter drive home. As the dressing room door swung closed behind me, I hefted the bag onto my shoulder and strolled out onto the darkened gymnasium floor. I glanced up once more at the still-lit scoreboard that read: Home 37, Visitors 41.
Only moments earlier five young men had been playing their hearts out, struggling to win their first and only victory at the end of a long, frustrating season. The crowd had filled every available seat and standing space in the small rural gym. They had yelled their throats hoarse, urging their sons and friends to perform at some superhuman level so that the memory of the season might not linger so disappointingly in their minds.
The burden of performance rested most heavily on a tall, square-shouldered farm boy. Even though he was notably the most talented of the small hometown squad, his and his teammates’ best efforts were not enough to achieve the victory that their hearts desired.
As I approached the exit on the far side of the gym, this same tall farm boy stepped from the crowd of somber teammates and school chums. I was somewhat apprehensive as he timed his stride to meet me at the door. Much too often in my 18 years of officiating high school basketball and football I had been approached by a disappointed fan or player wishing to release his frustration by verbally insulting my ability as an official or even my nonpartisan posture during the course of the game.
The young man had a hard, firm expression on his face as he blocked my exit. Suddenly he extended his hand and with a humble awkwardness blurted, “I would like to thank you, sir, for calling a good game. You know how much we wanted to win this one. We tried hard, but … anyway I know you tried to call just as good a game as we tried to play. Besides, it’s only a game.” He turned and melted back into the crowd of his friends. A warm feeling came over me as I stepped out into the harsh winter wind. This young man had achieved the greatest victory that could be won on the floor that evening. He had been a sportsman.
I’m not sure what ever happened to that young farm boy. I do know that he never reached any great level of athletic achievement. He doesn’t have any memories of state championships or come-from-behind victories. He was just a hardplaying young man who gave his best when he walked onto the court and understood that regardless of the outcome, “It was only a game.”

A little while back, my friend and I were going to the girls’ washroom at school to wash our hands. We had just been doing an art project and had paste on our fingers. But when we got to the bathroom the sink was a complete disaster! There was soapy water everywhere. My friend and I quickly decided that we should clean it up before washing our hands. When we finished I felt good inside. I have just been baptized and I knew it was the Holy Ghost giving me that warm feeling. I am trying to act more Christlike every day.