Gospel Story Finder

Many of us have problems that can get in our way: poor eyesight, bad hearing, or perhaps crooked feet. Jaganath Martin, age 8, sees his problems as hurdles to fly over. Jag was born missing portions of his arms and legs.
“Mom, why do monkeys jump in trees?” Jag asked one morning.
“I guess because they are just built that way,” his mom replied.
“So when I get big, I can jump in trees too!” he exclaimed. He thought he would grow arms and legs as he grew older.
Jag cried when Mom told him his body wasn’t built that way. “He only gets upset about his disability if it stops him from doing something, like riding bikes,” his mom says. Most of the time, Jag learns how to do what he wants to do.

I attended the young single adult summit in Kumasi, Ghana, not because I needed a girlfriend—I was already engaged—but because I felt that I needed more motivation and that the summit would be the right place to find it. Indeed, my prayers were answered at the summit after Sister Call, a senior missionary assigned to work with young single adults, spoke about the importance of temple marriage.
Toward the end of the discussion, her countenance suddenly changed and she said, “You do not need money to get married—all you need is faith.” I felt like she was talking to me directly, but I didn’t think it could really apply to me because we had to purchase several items in preparation for the wedding. I said to myself, “How can I not need money but only faith?”
I thought about this over and over again throughout the week. In the process I asked myself, “Is God limited in what He can do?” At first, I thought no, but on second thought I thought yes. But then came a follow-up question, “How can He be limited if He is all-powerful?” The Spirit taught me the answer: God’s blessings are dependent upon our obedience to Him. He is not limited in His ability to bless us, but we must invite those blessings by exercising faith to do what He would have us do.
Later, I called my fiancée, Priscilla, to discuss our proposed marriage plans. Despite our lack of money, we decided to choose a date for our wedding, but we could not decide on a particular date. We agreed that she should ask her bishop which dates were open on the ward and stake calendars. Out of the two dates he offered, we chose September 27, 2014—which meant that we had barely seven weeks to the day of the wedding!
Priscilla asked, “Obim [meaning “my heart” in the Igbo language], do you have some money? The time is short.”
I replied, “No, but I do have some faith.”
She laughed and said, “It’s OK. Let’s fast and pray.” Paraphrasing 1 Nephi 3:7, she continued, “The Lord will open a way for us because He has commanded us to get married.”
Within that week I was paid for a job I had done months previously. Then Priscilla told me that she wanted to start a business to raise more funds. With the money I had made, she bought used women’s handbags and resold them. After buying some of the items on her list of things required, she still had more than double the money I gave her.
During this time, there were no jobs coming my way. Every promised job fell through. We had two weeks remaining and there were still things we needed to buy. My fiancée suggested that the date be moved back. All I said was, “A miracle is on the way.”
Just two days before our wedding day, the miracle happened: I was paid for a job I had done over two weeks before. I was also learning that with faith and hard work, the Lord would bless us to accomplish our righteous goals.
We went to the bank to cash the check and from there to the market to purchase the remainder of what was required amidst heavy rain, which we saw as heaven’s approval of our act of faith.
Less than 24 hours later, we were married. When we were asked to exchange vows, the feeling was unlike anything I had ever felt in my life. I felt so accomplished that I believed I could do all things through faith from that point on. We were later sealed in the Accra Ghana Temple.
Though you may need some money to prepare for marriage, the most important thing you need is faith.

Life seems to have a way of changing the most carefully made plans, but no one would have expected the traumatic experience that awaited Don. His fun on the reservation was cut short by painful events, and his mission began in a much different way than one would have imagined.
While riding in the back of a small truck with some of his friends, Don accidentally fell out onto the hard, black pavement and skidded painfully along its rough surface. That was the last thing he remembered until he awoke in a hospital bed, his body in physical torment.
An excruciating pain in his back persisted through the long night, and as the new day began, Don found himself unable to move his arms, hands, or legs. He was paralyzed from his neck down!
Following an emergency operation, he awoke in a recovery room conscious that the pain in his mended back was subsiding; but he was also painfully aware of his helpless limbs that refused to respond to his efforts to move them.
Don’s concerned doctors had little hope that this condition would ever change. As he lay helpless in his hospital bed, fighting back the tears of discouragement, he expressed the feelings of his heart to his Heavenly Father, asking for strength to endure and for a recovery from his affliction if it were His will.
Night after night while others slept, Don struggled through the long, dark hours attempting to move his helpless hands that lay inertly by his side. He would pray and try, pray and try, repeating over and over in his mind, “I can do it, I can do it, I can do it!” Then, as the early morning light filtered softly through the blinds of his window, he would surrender himself wearily to a merciful sleep.
On one such interminable night, Don’s heart suddenly pounded with excitement as an almost imperceptible movement was made by one of his fingers! Holding his breath in suspense, he moved his finger again!
There was no sleep for Don that night. A wonderful, elated feeling of hope buoyed his troubled spirit and gave him renewed determination to regain the use of his hands.
Each night became a new adventure as gradually, with great effort and perseverance, the use of his hands and arms slowly returned to him.
In the meantime, Don’s doctor had procrastinated the unwelcome task of informing him that he must mentally prepare himself to accept his paralysis as an unalterable fact of his young life.
With great difficulty, the doctor told this news to Don. It was a poignant moment for the good doctor who turned quickly to leave the room to conceal his emotion. As he left the room he stole a last glance at Don lying quietly in his bed. Just at this moment, Don reached his arm up to the head rail of his bed and pulled himself into a more comfortable position. The startled doctor could not contain himself. “Do that again, Don! Do that again!” he shouted with excitement. Soon the room was filled with nurses and doctors who came running to learn the cause of the great commotion. It was a moment to be remembered.

For an entire year Brother Assard fruitlessly sought employment. The strain of providing for his family weighed heavily upon him. He did not, however, let the difficulty of finding a job prevent him from moving the work of the Lord forward. He and Sister Assard sent letters to members on the list they had received in Germany. The Lucien Affoué family of Abidjan was the first to respond. Both families rejoiced to know they were not alone. Other members in Ivory Coast also responded but were too remote to meet with them.
As Lucien Affoué traveled with his family to Lyon, France, to study industrial arts, he had no idea the most important education he would receive there would be spiritual. Lucien; his wife, Agathe; and their two daughters embraced the gospel soon after full-time missionaries knocked on their door in 1980. The Bordeaux Branch welcomed the family into the Church, and after proving faithful, the Affoués and their daughters were sealed in the Swiss Temple.
When they returned to Ivory Coast in 1984, the Affoués, now with an infant son, were disappointed not to find any other Church members. Nevertheless, they diligently held meetings in their home, praying for the fellowship of another Latter-day Saint family.
Despite their difficult economic situation, the Affoués rejoiced in April 1986 when they received a letter from the Assards. The two families soon began holding joint Sunday meetings in the Assards’ backyard. As they worked, worshiped, and prayed together for employment, the families grew close and strengthened each other spiritually. Sister Affoué and Sister Assard became as close as sisters.
The Affoués had their prayers answered when Brother Affoué found a teaching job in Bouaké, the nation’s second largest city, located approximately 370 kilometers northwest of Abidjan. They had to leave the growing Church group in Abidjan. But with strengthened testimonies and faith, the Affoués helped establish the Church in Bouaké in 1988. There the family spread the gospel, eventually receiving welcome help from a missionary couple assigned to the area.
Brother Affoué served as branch president for four years, then continued as branch president after the branch was divided. Today he serves as a counselor to the mission president. Sister Affoué served as Relief Society president, while the children taught classes and helped out their small branch in other ways.
The Church’s first chapel in Ivory Coast was dedicated in April 1997, a decade after the country was dedicated for the preaching of the gospel and shortly before the creation of the country’s first stake. A chapel of their own represents a milestone for Ivorian Latter-day Saints, including the Affoués and the Assards, who have longed for a chapel in their native land since the two families first met under a tree in their home village 11 years ago.

Christy Richins of the Roy Utah Ninth Ward and Brandon Nelson of the Morgan Utah Sixth Ward have taken either first place or grand champion trophies in five states for clogging, a type of dancing.
The two have been clogging together for two years, winning numerous trophies and performing at the Worlds Fair in New Orleans.
To win as grand champions is a particular honor because the first-place winners in each division compete against each other for the grand championship.
Christy and Brandon choreographed their own prizewinning number and have practiced long hours perfecting it.

As a mother of three young children, I have often found it difficult to take time for personal scripture study. And sometimes when our children are restless, our family scripture study has not been very rewarding.
One Sunday during a moment of quiet contemplation, I pondered these problems. Softly the answer came. If I studied at least one chapter in the scriptures daily, then at night I could review the chapter with my family.
The review is simple. First, I give a brief overview of the chapter. Next, I relate my feelings and impressions about it. Finally, I read several phrases and verses I feel are important.
Through my studying, I have gained a greater understanding of the scriptures. My husband learns from my summaries even while he plays with our children, and I can speak in terms my toddler understands. Our family has received many blessings from this answer to prayer.

Stephanie David has made quite an impression on the people of Waco, Texas. In fact, the mayor of Waco was so impressed that she officially named March 2, 2004, Stephanie David Day.
So what did Stephanie, 17, do to get her very own day named after her? “It all started with Personal Progress,” Stephanie says. “I wanted to do something for my Good Works Value Project that really would be a good work. I wanted to make a difference.”
The seed for Stephanie’s Value Project was planted as she browsed through items at a rummage sale. She remembers looking at the clothes and thinking they were in great shape. Then she asked a question that set everything in motion: “Who could benefit from having these clothes?”
Stephanie’s question was answered a few days later as she talked to a foster mother in her ward. She found out that children who were removed from their homes and placed in foster care usually weren’t able to bring personal belongings with them. Often, they needed more clothes.
So Stephanie decided to organize a nonprofit clothing center in Waco. Her idea was to gather gently used clothing at garage sales and encourage community members to donate clothes. She would then wash, organize, and store the clothes until foster children needed them.
Although her idea was a good one, Stephanie had to wait four months to get her project approved by officials of Child Protective Services. Eventually, Stephanie was given the go-ahead, and she named the clothing center Kind-er Closet, which is a fitting name because Kind-er Closet is just that—a closet in Stephanie’s house.
Stephanie and her family operate Kind-er Closet all by themselves. When foster children need clothing, case workers call an automated phone number and leave messages for Stephanie that tell how many children need clothing and what sizes they wear. After listening to the messages, Stephanie searches through the stash of clothes and finds 6 to 10 outfits per child. Then she wraps each child’s clothing and delivers it to the Child Protective Services office in Waco.
Even though Stephanie has long since met the requirements to complete her Personal Progress project, she plans to keep Kind-er Closet going for several more years. Over the past year, Stephanie has spent about 600 hours on the project. Thanks to her, more than 100 children have received the clothing they need.
Stephanie’s mother, Sarah, says, “At first, when we started telling Child Protective Services officials about the project, they didn’t understand why Stephanie would donate so much time to something she wouldn’t get paid for.”
But Stephanie understands there are more important rewards than money. For legal reasons, she never meets the children she collects clothing for. But the good feeling she gets when she finishes a clothing package is the only reward she needs.
“I see all these packages going out, and I can’t really describe the way I feel,” Stephanie says. “It just makes my heart burst open. I don’t get to meet these kids, but deep inside, I know my gift made them happy.”
Stephanie says her experiences with the Kind-er Closet helped her enjoy Personal Progress and strengthened her testimony of service. “Now that I’ve done something that really helps others, I think of service in a whole new way,” Stephanie says. “It’s fun.”
So how did Stephanie come up with such a great idea for her project? She prayed that our Heavenly Father would inspire her, and she knows the idea for the Kind-er Closet was an answer to her prayer.
Stephanie’s advice to other young women trying to come up with meaningful Personal Progress projects of their own is to think big. “If you have a good idea, don’t push it aside,” Stephanie says. “If you really want to make a difference, the Lord will help you.”

My junior year, I was offered a copy of an upcoming test in a crucial class. Obviously that meant some of my classmates would have the test questions ahead of time. I declined the offer. When the corrected test papers were returned, the class average was extremely high, making my score low in comparison. The professor asked to speak to me.
“Roy,” he said, “you usually do well on tests. What happened?”
“Sir,” I told my professor, “on the next exam, if you give a test that you have never given before, I believe you will find that I do very well.” There was no reply.
We had another test in the same class. As the test was handed out, there were audible groans. It was a test the teacher had never given before. When our graded tests were handed back, I had received one of the highest grades in the class. From then on, all the tests were new.

As a boy I made a startling discovery in Sunday School one Mother’s Day which has remained with me all through the years. Melvin, a sightless brother in the ward, a talented vocalist, would stand and face the congregation as though he were seeing one and all. He would then sing “That Wonderful Mother of Mine.” The bright, glowing embers of memory penetrated human hearts. Men reached for their handkerchiefs; women’s eyes brimmed with tears.

We deacons would go among the congregation carrying a small geranium in a clay pot for presentation to each mother. Some of the mothers were young, some were middle-aged, some were barely hanging on to life in their old age. I became aware that the eyes of each mother were kind eyes. The words of each mother were “Thank you.” I felt the spirit of the statement “When someone gives another person a flower, the fragrance of the flower lingers on the hands of the giver.” I have not forgotten the lesson learned, nor shall I ever forget it.

A few years ago Sister Packer and I were returning from New Zealand. We left Auckland at midnight and landed in Papeete in Tahiti. We waited there for a connecting flight. Just before dawn, a plane landed. It was not the one we were to board. We did not know its route; it was just an airliner landing on that small island in the South Pacific in the wee hours of a Monday morning.
I told my wife, “I will know someone on that plane.” I stood near the gate and as the passengers disembarked, four people, none of whom I had met before, approached me. “Are you Brother Packer?” And near the end of the line was one man I knew.
The point is this. It is manifestly impossible, in Huacuyo, Bolivia, or Tierra del Fuego, Argentina, in Kemi, Finland, or Vava’U in Tonga or anywhere else on earth, for an imposter to present himself as a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles and not be detected by the members as one who has not been regularly ordained by the leaders of the Church.

Among the material things of the past—things that I treasure for sweet memory’s sake and because of pleasant association in bygone days—is a lamp. …
The lamp of which I speak, the student lamp of my school and college days, was one of the best of its kind. I had bought it with hard-earned savings; it was counted among my most cherished possessions. …
One summer evening I sat musing studiously and withal restfully in the open air outside the door of the room in which I lodged and studied. A stranger approached. I noticed that he carried a satchel. He was affable and entertaining. I brought another chair from within, and we chatted together till the twilight had deepened into dusk, the dusk into darkness.
Then he said: “You are a student and doubtless have much work to do of nights. What kind of lamp do you use?” And without waiting for a reply, he continued, “I have a superior kind of lamp I should like to show you, a lamp designed and constructed according to the latest achievements of applied science, far surpassing anything heretofore produced as a means of artificial lighting.”
I replied with confidence, and I confess, not without some exultation: “My friend, I have a lamp, one that has been tested and proved. It has been to me a companion through many a long night. It is an Argand lamp, and one of the best. I have trimmed and cleaned it today; it is ready for the lighting. Step inside; I will show you my lamp; then you may tell me whether yours can possibly be better.”
We entered my study room, and with a feeling which I assume is akin to that of the athlete about to enter a contest with one whom he regards as a pitiably inferior opponent, I put the match to my well-trimmed Argand.
My visitor was voluble in his praise. It was the best lamp of its kind, he said. He averred that he had never seen a lamp in better trim. He turned the wick up and down and pronounced the adjustment perfect. He declared that never before had he realized how satisfactory a student lamp could be.
I liked the man; he seemed to me wise, and he assuredly was ingratiating. “Love me, love my lamp,” I thought, mentally paraphrasing a common expression of the period.
“Now,” said he, “with your permission I’ll light my lamp.” He took from his satchel a lamp then known as the “Rochester.” It had a chimney which, compared with mine, was as a factory smokestack alongside a house flue. Its hollow wick was wide enough to admit my four fingers. Its light made bright the remotest corner of my room. In its brilliant blaze my own little Argand wick burned a weak, pale yellow. Until that moment of convincing demonstration, I had never known the dim obscurity in which I had lived and labored, studied and struggled.
“I’ll buy your lamp,” said I; “you need neither explain nor argue further.” I took my new acquisition to the laboratory that same night and determined its capacity. It turned at over 48 candlepower—fully four times the intensity of my student lamp.
Two days after purchasing, I met the lamp peddler on the street about noontime. To my inquiry he replied that business was good; the demand for his lamps was greater than the factory supply. “But,” said I, “you are not working today?” His rejoinder was a lesson. “Do you think that I would be so foolish as to go around trying to sell lamps in the daytime? Would you have bought one if I had lighted it for you when the sun was shining? I chose the time to show the superiority of my lamp over yours, and you were eager to own the better one I offered, were you not?”

This summer I had the unforgettable experience of camping with twenty-six hundred of these wonderful Aaronic Priesthood Young Men and their leaders. Amid a colorful array of tents and Boy Scout uniforms, the encampment took the shape of a giant twelve-spoked wheel. Each spoke housed one of Israel’s twelve “tribes.” The six days of camping at the Florida Deseret Ranch provided camping skills, special demonstrations, tests of physical fitness, inspirational programs, and numerous other activities (not to mention consumption of fifty-eight hundred gallons of milk, sixty-three thousand pounds of ice, one thousand cases of soft drinks, and one and one-half tons of bread). The young men and their priesthood leaders participated together, focusing upon priesthood objectives.
On the first evening at dusk, with each “tribe” in place, all of “Israel” marched to an arena for the opening campfire. The golden rays of sunset formed a magnificent backdrop for the mile-long line of young men as they marched two abreast toward the arena. With colorful banners held aloft, the modern-day sons of Israel passed beneath an archway emblazoned with the Scout Promise: “On My Honor.” Sentries stood holding torch-lighted signs inscribed with the Scout Oath and Law and Aaronic Priesthood objectives. As the priesthood leaders led their young men past these sentries, it was anticipated that each young man would make a personal commitment to strive daily toward eternal life, to be a worthy priesthood bearer, worthy to serve a mission; worthy to marry in the temple.
The decisions made that night were followed up during the next four days by special “mountaintop” experiences. The leaders of ancient Israel often went to a designated mountaintop to receive special instruction from the Lord. It was planned that these “Israelite” priesthood bearers would prepare themselves to come to especially designated locations at the encampment where they might receive spiritual guidance and counsel. Here they learned that, having committed themselves to live the basic principles of the gospel, they had also committed themselves to make other important decisions regarding such things as being morally clean, being honest in word and deed, keeping the Word of Wisdom, and so forth.
These are some of the “certain things” to which President Kimball referred in a recent conference address:
“We hope we can help our young men and young women to realize, even sooner than they do now, that they need to make certain decisions only once. … We can push some things away from us once and have done with them! We can make a single decision about certain things that we will incorporate in our lives and then make them ours—without having to brood and redecide a hundred times what it is we will do and what we will not do.
“… My young brothers, if you have not done so yet, decide to decide!” (Ensign, May 1976, p. 46; italics added.)
You can do it, my young brethren. You can become the men of righteousness and stature that your dreams and ambitions hold up before you. To accomplish this objective, you need to make some important decisions now, early in your life. This is the time to decide to decide!
First, decide to set goals. In his same conference address, President Kimball said:
“It is most appropriate for Aaronic Priesthood youth, as well as Melchizedek Priesthood men [and I would add, the women of the Church], to quietly, and with determination, set some serious personal goals in which they will seek to improve by selecting certain things that they will accomplish within a specified period of time.” (Ensign, May 1976, p. 46).
A friend of mine helped his son set goals in this manner. Don asked his son what he wanted to be, whom he would want to be like. His son named a member of the ward who lived nearby, a man he had admired for some time. Don drove his son to where the man lived.
As they sat in their automobile in front of his home, they observed the man’s possessions and his way of life. They also discussed his kindness and generosity, his good name and integrity. They discussed the price their neighbor had paid to become what he was: the years of hard work, the schooling and training required, the sacrifices made, the challenges encountered. The affluence and seeming ease with which he now lived had come about as the result of diligent toil toward his righteous goals and the blessings of the Lord.
The son selected other men whom he deemed models of successful and righteous living and learned from a wise father the stories of their lives. Thereupon at an early age he set his own goal of what he wanted to become. And with his goal before him as a guide by which to make other decisions along the way, he was prepared to stay on his chosen course.
Next, decide to work. Work is necessary if you are to reach your goal. J. Paul Getty, considered to be at one time one of the world’s wealthiest men, gave this formula for success: “Rise early, work late, and strike oil!” Mr. Getty has also made the thought-provoking comment that “it is possible for a man to get on a train that goes 60 miles per hour and say to himself, ‘I am going 60 miles per hour.’ But it is not true. Unless he is moving ahead on his own power, he is standing still.” (J. Paul Getty, Reader’s Digest, Sept. 1980, p. 94.)
Isaac Stern, the world-famous musician-violinist, was asked by a television talk show host at what point in his life he determined to devote his energies toward a career as a concert violinist. Mr. Stern told of having given his first concert in San Francisco at a young age. Music critics were extremely impressed and predicted a fine future for the promising young talent. With this encouragement, Isaac Stern began preparations for another concert a year later in New York City. The critics were not so kind to him there. It would require a tremendous amount of work, they judged, if Isaac Stern were to achieve success as a soloist.
Dejected and discouraged, the young Mr. Stern boarded one of New York City’s double-decker buses and rode it up and down Manhattan a number of times. He was, in his words, “crying inside” as he tried to decide where he was going from there. Were his critics correct? Had he gone as far as he was capable of going? Should he now seek a profession as just another member of an orchestra?
After his fourth bus ride through the city, he returned to his apartment where his mother was waiting. He had made his decision. “I am going to work, mother—work at my music until it works for me.” Today Isaac Stern is acclaimed as one of the finest violinists in the world. Work is a principle with a blessing. Work builds us physically and spiritually. It increases both our strength of body and our strength of character.
A basketball coach claimed, “If you find a man on top of a mountain, he didn’t fall there.” If you and I are to reach the summit of our divine potential, we must work each step of the way. The path may be rugged, difficult, unheralded; but it can be successfully climbed if we are willing to work with all our strength and commitment.
Next, decide to believe. Believe in God. Believe in yourself. Believe that God is very interested in you as an individual, that he is anxious for you to succeed. He has provided in the gospel of his Son Jesus Christ the sure pattern for ultimate success.
When our lives are consistent with his gospel, we receive confidence through his Spirit to meet the challenges of each day. We can say with Nephi: “The Lord is able to do all things according to his will, for the children of men, if it so be that they exercise faith in him. … Wherefore, let us be faithful to him.” (1 Ne. 7:12.)
The Prophet Joseph Smith’s belief in God, his faith in God’s interest in him, gave him the courage and optimism to say:
“Never get discouraged, whatever difficulties might surround [you]. If [you were] sunk in the lowest pit of Nova Scotia, and all the Rocky Mountains piled on top of [you], [you] ought not to be discouraged, but hang on, exercise faith and keep up good courage and [you] should come out on top of the heap.” (George A. Smith’s journal, quoted by Preston Nibley, in Church Section, 12 Mar. 1950, p. 16.)
You, our beloved young men and women, are in the most critical period of life. Youth is the time when habits are formed, when ideas are adopted. It is the time of decision. Decide today to heed these words of our prophet: “Decide to decide!”
Decide to make decisions about certain things once—those things will push from you that might otherwise destroy you—and decide about other things that you will incorporate into your life, things that will bring you eternal happiness. Decide to set goals which are consistent with your divine destiny. Decide to believe in God, who created you. Decide to believe in yourself, that you truly can reach goals—your goals. Decide to work. You can be successful in any righteous endeavor when you are willing to work under the guiding hand of the Lord.
May we all make our decisions in the favorable light of the gospel of Jesus Christ, I pray in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

It was a real feeling of fear, she explained, that gave her “more than the usual desire to be ‘in’.” When Pat Terry Holland was 16, she moved with her family from a small rural town to a larger city. Recalling the anguish of that experience, she said, “I felt overly sensitive, very awkward, afraid, and unaccepted. I remember being really hurt at that time because my fear and hesitancy was mistaken for conceit and stand-offishness. It hurt so much to have people think I was stuck-up just because I was afraid to be outgoing and friendly.”
This timid young girl, in spite of her beauty, her intelligence, and the strength of her family, experienced the anguish of feeling left out and alone. She was hurting inside. “If I could just be really popular,” she had thought, “that would help me feel confident and happy. If I could just be a class officer, if I could be a cheerleader, if I could enter a queen contest and win, then I would be a really happy teenager.” These thoughts kept flooding her mind at that time when it appeared to her that no one else was suffering those terrible left-out feelings.
Years later, and still looking like a queen, but now more confident and happy, this young mother recalls those times as she relives and suffers a bit with her own children who are now facing the challenges that are so much a part of growing up. “You know,” she said happily, “all of those things did eventually come to me (class officer, cheerleader, and campus queen), and they did bring a lot of attention. But to my great surprise, I discovered that they, in and of themselves, were very empty experiences.”
She now draws strength from a more lasting and dependable resource, she explained: “Those honors, while rewarding, did not bring the real confidence and happiness that I was sure they would.”
There is unquestioning evidence that somewhere along the way Sister Holland has found the key, the source, and the secret to confidence and happiness. Her dark brown eyes radiate joy, peace, anticipation, and enthusiasm as she shares her thoughts and feelings so freely.
“What is it?” I asked, eager to hear her tell of what is better than those things she had one time yearned for so much.
“Well,” she said, her expression intense, her voice soft, but confident, “I remember once being very inspired by a talk given by President N. Eldon Tanner. He quoted from the scriptures, ‘Seek ye first the kingdom of heaven.’ I realized then, even at a rather young age, that if I would seek first the kingdom of heaven, everything else would be added unto me. That left a great impression on my mind,” she explained. She also remembered the theme from Mutual that year and recited it with conviction: “‘Be thou humble; and the Lord thy God shall lead thee by the hand, and give thee answer to thy prayers’ (D&C 112:10). That I clung to like it was gold,” she said, clasping her hands in front of her.
Sister Holland spoke of another very memorable experience that became “a real turning point in my life.” She said, “My parents had allowed me to come to Salt Lake City and live with a group of girls for the summer while I worked. They were all about my age. We had many happy times together, but in our apartment at one time we felt despondency and discouragement, and I remember feeling it so strongly one day that I decided to fast and pray about how to be happy, how to find the peace and security and confidence that a person needs. That evening my roommates and I decided to go to a movie. We first went to a grocery store to get some treats to take with us. At the store we pulled our car in right next to Elder ElRay L. Christiansen, then an Assistant to the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. He walked right over to our car. He chatted with each one of us. He seemed very interested and asked us our names. I was so excited, I couldn’t believe this was happening to me.”
As if she were reliving that experience and sensing again the impact of that memorable occasion, she bore testimony: “Just before Elder Christiansen got ready to leave, he paused, looked right at me, and said, ‘Pat, the only way to be happy is to be obedient.’”
There was silence for a moment, each pondering the magnitude of this simple counsel and the direct answer to fervent prayer. She recalled her feelings on that occasion, “First of all, just to see a General Authority was a highlight in my life. It was the first time I had ever had any personal contact with Church leaders like that.”
This young girl, anxious to find the right answers and inspired by the counsel of a General Authority, had no way of knowing then that later, as the wife of Jeffrey Holland, former Church Commissioner of Education and now President of Brigham Young University, she would find herself in close and frequent association with many of the General Authorities. “To have my prayers answered so directly was another turning point in my life,” she said. “I realized right then and there that truly the greatest thing that I could cling to, the only way to be confident and happy, is to be obedient and live by the Spirit.”
While yet a teenager she discovered “there is just no substitute for obedience.” While obedience had not been a struggle for Pat, still the impact of receiving such an immediate and direct answer to her earnest supplication, and to receive it from one of the Lord’s chosen servants, a General Authority in person, was just more than she had ever hoped for.
Pat met Jeffrey Holland between her junior and senior year at high school. With a twinkle in her eye, she expressed much more of that sweet relationship than was spoken. “And that continues to be the best thing that has ever happened to me,” she said enthusiastically. “He continually amazes me, and it’s a wonderful privilege and blessing to be his wife.” Feeling the joy and happiness that she was expressing made it difficult to realize that she had ever had youthful feelings of discouragement or fear.
Speaking of their early friendship, she recalled that when he left for his mission, they so wanted to have a “forever kind of love.” Together they decided that they would do three things that would unite them even in his absence: (1) Read the scriptures every day. (2) Fast once a week. (3) Pray really often. “These have become habits that we have continued to this day,” she said humbly and gratefully, thinking of the far-reaching rewards of that early decision that kept them close while they were far away.
Her countenance and the tone of testimony in her voice gave me reason to believe that the unlimited reservoir from which she now draws strength and confidence has been filled through diligent obedience to this early commitment that has now become a habit. “And has that taken away all of the difficult times?” I inquired, since the spirit in her home seemed to be so peaceful and void of any stress. “Oh, no, not always,” she said, smiling. “I remember one time I had become very concerned,” she confessed. “I felt the pressures were great. For the first dozen years of our married life, Jeff was either a student or a teacher. We moved 12 times in 13 years. One of those moves was to Connecticut.”
At this time her young husband was a student at Yale University working on his Ph.D. He felt the pressure to do well as one of the very few Mormon students there. He was called to serve as counselor in the stake presidency, which required considerable travel within the boundaries of a very large stake. He also taught institute at Yale, which helped supplement their meager income. Sister Holland was called at that time to be the ward Relief Society president. She had two small babies. “The pressure was so great, I really wanted to give up,” she admitted. “It wasn’t easy.” Thinking back to her husband’s counsel, which seemed so hard to follow at that time, she explained: “He knew of my concerns and gave me direction.”
“Read your scriptures more meaningfully,” he gently but fervently counseled his young wife. “Because,” he said, “the only way we will survive (feeling considerable pressure himself) is through spirituality. We will survive through the strength of the Spirit.”
She said, “I tried hard to follow my husband’s counsel in righteousness, but I remember thinking, ‘That’s easier said than done.’” With the lesson on obedience deeply anchored in her soul, she was prepared to try. In an attempt to do just what he said, hard as it was, she told of fasting and praying one day. “His words kept coming to my mind about reading the scriptures more meaningfully. I remember walking over to my scriptures with the attitude, okay, we’ll just see if there’s something to this. And of course there was. The answers were there.”
Now, leaning forward, she spoke reverently of that very special experience: “That’s how the Lord uses the scriptures to talk to us,” she said. “He can’t be everywhere in person, but he guides us as we diligently search the scriptures, and he knows at what point in our lives certain passages will have meaning for us. That way he can provide the answers to things we earnestly seek.” Again she repeated, “That’s how the Lord uses the scriptures to talk to us.
“Truly, that was another turning point,” she said. In following her husband’s counsel, the scriptures had provided the answers she so much needed at that time. “It’s not always easy,” she explained in a cheerful, happy tone. “We’ll continue to have challenges and we’ll continue to be purified, but the time of greatest challenge is also the time of greatest spiritual blessings.”
“What kind of blessings?” I asked.
She paused thoughtfully, and while I waited for her response, I observed the beauties of her home and thought of her many and varied accomplishments. Her beautiful grand piano reminded me of her exceptional musical gifts and talents. She began her musical training very young and at one time was encouraged to go east and study, which she did briefly. But then she realized that she had to make some important choices.
“I faced what a lot of young women face—the choice between a career and marriage. I made the right decision. I have a wonderful husband, three beautiful children, and some music. My music alone would be a poor substitute for my family I love with all my heart.”
Speaking of that incident she said warmly, “Jeff was my first choice!”
Of his wife Brother Holland says, “She’s incredible! Absolutely stunning! She can lift an entire day’s burden with the curl of her smile and dry a child’s tear with one touch. She refuses to speak ill of anyone, trying always to understand and empathize and forgive. She’s funny and free and full of faith. I’ve never known a more spiritual, more disciplined, more gentle woman all rolled up in one beautiful package.”
Now interrupting the brief silence, Sister Holland was ready with her response. “About the blessings,” she said, “the greatest ones are really not tangible. It’s that peace and happiness and confidence that I was speaking of before.” Then, clasping her hands together to give emphasis to her response, she explained, “It’s a oneness with each other, with our children, with our neighbors, and with God. It’s as though the windows of heaven have been opened.” She glanced upward. The spirit of her message could be felt. She spoke of all the gloriously happy times with her husband and her beautiful children.
To be near Sister Holland is to experience the radiance of a truly good and happy person. She seemed so confident and at peace, I was prompted to ask just one more question: “Sister Holland, do you have any particular concerns at this time?” Her countenance changed. “Yes,” she said, “I’m saddened by some of the philosophies I hear. I hope our young people and everyone can sacrifice enough to receive the blessings, to give up things that might seem important right now for the greater things. I hope we will always be willing to pay that kind of price and in return receive the boundless blessings that are promised.” There was evidence of her intense desire for everyone to be happy, and her personal knowledge of the key to this great blessing is something she is so anxious to share.
Sister Holland, as a leader and teacher of youth, reaches out with deep love and understanding. She has genuine concern for their confidence and happiness—just as she had for herself at that age. As a final expression by way of testimony, she emphatically concluded, “Sacrifice brings forth the blessings of heaven; there is no other way.”

Many years ago when I was practicing law in California, a friend and client who was not a member of our faith came in to see me and with great enthusiasm showed me a letter he had received from an LDS bishop of a nearby ward. The bishop wrote that a member of his congregation, a former employee of my client, had taken materials from my client’s work site and had rationalized that they were surplus. But after becoming a committed Latter-day Saint and attempting to follow Jesus Christ, this employee recognized that what he had done was dishonest. Enclosed in the letter was a sum of money from the man to cover not only the cost of the materials but also interest. My client was impressed that the Church through lay leadership would assist this man in his effort to be reconciled to God.
Think about the light and truth that the shared value of honesty has in the Judeo-Christian world. Think about the impact on society if youth didn’t cheat in school, if adults were honest in the workplace and were faithful to their marriage vows. For us the concept of basic honesty is grounded in the life and teachings of the Savior. Honesty is also a valued attribute in many other faiths and in historic literature. The poet Robert Burns said, “An honest man’s the noblest work of God.”21 In almost every instance, people of faith feel accountable to God for being honest. This was the reason the man in California was repenting from his earlier act of dishonesty.

Serving a full-time mission in the Dominican Republic, I had just been transferred to a new area that had a reputation of being difficult to find people to teach. When I arrived, we had only one investigator. His name was Oriviades. He had attended church before, but because he was deaf and communicated using sign language, previous missionaries hadn’t been able to teach him.
One day my companion and I decided to fast and pray for a miracle that would allow us to teach Oriviades. We set an appointment with him at a time when one of his family members would be available to help translate, since neither my companion nor I knew sign language.
When we arrived to meet with Oriviades, however, none of his family members was there. When Oriviades briefly left to get a chair, my companion and I took the opportunity to pray that the Spirit would guide us. Before we had even finished the prayer, I felt the Spirit’s presence strongly.
Oriviades began signing, but we couldn’t understand him. We simply smiled at him and looked at each other, trying to figure out what we should do. We decided to write a note indicating a time for our next appointment, hoping that next time we would have a translator. But suddenly both of us felt strongly that we should stay and try to teach him. “Let’s at least try—the Spirit will help us,” I told my companion.
We tried using drawings and rudimentary hand signals as we taught the lesson. Gradually we started understanding Oriviades’s signs and were able to sign in reply to him. He seemed to understand us perfectly.
We felt prompted to share our testimonies with him. We showed him a picture of the First Vision, and I wrote on a piece of paper, “I know it’s true.”
Then, using signs, Oriviades responded, “I know it’s true—God told me. I prayed and know it’s true.”
My companion and I left the appointment with tears in our eyes. I knew that God had allowed us to testify of the restored gospel to this investigator and that the Holy Ghost had carried our message unto his heart (see 2 Nephi 33:1). I learned that we don’t need to speak perfectly or eloquently when we share the gospel—sometimes, we don’t need to speak aloud.
It’s incredible how simple things like fasting, prayer, and faith can work mighty miracles in our lives and in the lives of those we serve.

Many letters were received from communities thanking the Church for being part of their Bicentennial celebration. Several were received with almost identical messages of thanks as follows: “We were struggling with our Bicentennial program. We were deadlocked in controversy over allocating our meager financial resources to so many proposed projects. One night as we met in one of our committee meetings trying to get our program moving forward, a representative from your Church called and offered their support. They expressed their love for America and wanted to participate in its 200th birthday celebration. They suggested a program they wanted to sponsor and, much to our surprise, asked for no funding. The spirit of this group was carried forward into our meeting and literally saved our town celebration.” Yes, our message was heard loud and clear, thanks to our Public Communications organization.

As I waited in the long December checkout line, my ears drifted to the conversation ahead of me. The woman in line must have been in her mid-30s, but her disheveled and stressed countenance added at least five years.
As she vented to the cashier, I learned the cause of this lady’s anxiety. She explained how she despised the holiday months, the time of year she associated with long lines, family drama, and the pressure to decorate and be jovial.
“Pressure?” I thought in disbelief. My heart ached for this woman, who clearly had a skewed view of the holidays. I tried to put myself in this woman’s shoes, and I could see what she meant by pressure. There is food to buy and there are goodies to prepare. There is pressure to buy gifts for the kids. Not only that, but we sometimes think the gifts have to be impressive. However, we each have the choice to rise above the commercial pressure of the holidays.
I can think back to one Christmas in which our family budget was extremely tight. We were supporting one of my brothers on his mission to Chicago, and that required us to skimp on nonessential items. The only gift-wrapped item I got that year was a fleece blanket. Nothing extravagant, just a plain blanket. I tried to talk it up to my friends at school and make it seem like it was a really great gift, but there was no use. It couldn’t compare to a video game console.
Since then, that blanket has come to symbolize much more to me. That gift was one of warmth. Yes, it warmed me on those few cold Arizona nights, but it also warmed me with love. My parents gave me more: they gave me fun family traditions, a firm sense of belonging, and a knowledge that true gifts are ones of service, love, and sacrifice. My parents sacrificed their money for my brother’s mission, but they never sacrificed their love for me, our family, and everyone around them as they served that year.
I wish I could go back to the school cafeteria table when my friends asked, “What did you get for Christmas?” I wish I could have answered them proudly: “I got a blanket, a blanket that warms me with the true love of the most wonderful time of year.”

by Deborah J. Lingle
The Young Women of the Battleground Ward, Vancouver Washington West Stake, responded to a challenge. Their advisers encouraged each girl to purchase a Book of Mormon or A Marvelous Work and a Wonder, write her testimony inside, and give it to a nonmember.
Catching the spirit of the challenge of missionary work, the 13 girls managed to give away 22 books in eight months.
After prayerful consideration, Jennifer Goodner, a Mia Maid, felt inspired to place her book with a friend at school. The friend thanked her and said she’d been waiting for Jennifer to approach her because she had so many questions about the Church.
Each girl had experiences that were unique. Alyce Clark, a Mia Maid, managed to place seven books by herself, one to a man who had rejected the Book of Mormon for many years.
The project was an overwhelming success. The process of writing their testimonies helped the girls to examine their beliefs and grow closer to their Heavenly Father. The experience also gave the girls the self-confidence to speak out about the gospel.

When I joined the Church in 1973, the doctrine of the redemption of the dead penetrated deep into my heart. As a new member of the Church, I made a commitment to do the vicarious work for my ancestors who had died without knowledge of the gospel.
At that time I lived in Madrid, Spain, about 500 kilometers from Asturias, the little place where I was born—and where, supposedly, the greater part of my ancestors’ records were located. I used many vacations and weekends looking for these records, traveling hundreds of kilometers. Sometimes I would lock myself up for entire days in the parish offices of Catholic churches, surrounded by old, and often illegible, records.
The love I felt for my ancestors helped me overcome these inconveniences. I brushed off the dirt, mended the torn books and pages, and learned to read the many, many books that came into my hands. With the help of these parish records, as well as civil records, family records, wills, newspapers, and photographs, I began to put together a picture of my ancestors’ lives. I came to know them to some extent and to rejoice in their happiness and mourn with them in their sorrows.
But the time came when it seemed I could do no more. Too many records had been destroyed. Asturias has been one of the most embattled areas in Spain’s history, and many records had been destroyed in its conflicts. I tried to go on using family sources but met with little success.
Sometimes I was discouraged when I thought of how easy it was for some people to do family history research. I read miraculous accounts in the Liahona of others finding needed information. Why couldn’t that happen to me? The records I needed had to be somewhere.
In 1994 I decided that I would vacation in a certain area and visit the parishes there one more time. As usual, after I had finished searching, I was in exactly the same place where I had begun. I felt quite discouraged. I had used up my vacations for 20 years, had traveled thousands of kilometers, had searched through mountains of books, had spoken with hundreds of people, and had spent a great deal of money. But for what?
My wife and I packed our suitcases to return to Madrid. Then at the last moment, I decided to make one more attempt. I returned again to one of the churches I had visited so many times before.
But this time, as I was looking in a certain record, the very names and dates that I needed suddenly appeared right before my eyes! My legs went weak, and a great cry of joy came out of my mouth. Tears rushed to my eyes, blinding me.
I hadn’t found the information on any of my previous attempts because the names were incorrectly registered. But once discovered, this precious record even referred me to other records that had not been destroyed in war—records that I never knew existed. Now the temple work could be done for these ancestors!
I was able to return to Madrid feeling extremely blessed. Like Nephi, I know that our Father in Heaven loves us and that he never gives us a commandment without preparing the way for us to carry it out.

I was once called to the Relief Society presidency of my young single adult ward. I was excited to start. But after a few months, I felt discouraged. I couldn’t see any spiritual growth in those I was trying to minister to. My efforts to visit and befriend seemed to fall flat.

One Sunday, I felt like I was missing the spiritual gifts that help someone be good at ministering. My prayer during the sacrament that day was to feel assurance that I was capable of my calling. I felt impressed to ask for a priesthood blessing.

I met with my bishop, and as he laid his hands on my head, one of the first things he said to me was, “Heavenly Father appreciates the kindness you show to others.”

The Spirit washed over me, and I felt assured that the Lord was pleased with my efforts. I felt I did have a portion of the gifts needed to minister lovingly. I had just been measuring my failures rather than my successes.