Gospel Story Finder

This has been a most unusual year. For me it began with an assignment from the First Presidency to dedicate a holy temple to the Lord in Durban, South Africa. I will never forget the grandeur of the building. But more than the setting, I will always treasure the dignity of the people who were so well prepared to enter that sacred edifice. They came ready to partake of one of the crowning blessings of the Restoration: the dedication of a house of the Lord. They came with hearts filled with love for Him and His Atonement. They came filled with thanks to our Father in Heaven for providing sacred ordinances that would lead to exaltation. They came worthy.
Temples, no matter where they are, rise above the ways of the world. Every Latter-day Saint temple in the world—all 168 of them—stand as testaments to our faith in eternal life and the joy of spending it with our families and our Heavenly Father. Attending the temple increases our understanding of the Godhead and the everlasting gospel, our commitment to live and teach truth, and our willingness to follow the example of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
On the outside of every temple in the Church are the fitting words “Holiness to the Lord.” The temple is the Lord’s house and a sanctuary from the world. His Spirit envelops those who worship within those sacred walls. He sets the standards by which we enter as His guests.
My father-in-law, Blaine Twitchell, one of the best men I have ever known, taught me a great lesson. Sister Rasband and I went to visit him when he was nearing the end of his mortal journey. As we entered his room, his bishop was just leaving. As we greeted the bishop, I thought, “What a nice bishop. He’s here doing his ministering to a faithful member of his ward.”
I mentioned to Blaine, “Wasn’t that nice of the bishop to come visit.”
Blaine looked at me and responded, “It was far more than that. I asked for the bishop to come because I wanted my temple recommend interview. I want to go recommended to the Lord.” And he did!
That phrase, “recommended to the Lord,” has stayed with me. It has put a whole new perspective on being interviewed regularly by our Church leaders. So important is a temple recommend that in the early Church, until 1891, each temple recommend was endorsed by the President of the Church.
Whether for youth or adults, your temple recommend interview is not about do’s and don’ts. A recommend is not a checklist, a hall pass, or a ticket for special seating. It has a much higher and holier purpose. To qualify for the honor of a temple recommend, you must live in harmony with the teachings of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
In your interview you have the opportunity to search your soul about your personal faith in Jesus Christ and His Atonement. You have the blessing to express your testimony of the restored gospel; your willingness to sustain those whom the Lord has called to lead His Church; your faith in the doctrine of the gospel; your fulfillment of family responsibilities; and your qualities of honesty, chastity, fidelity, obedience, and observance of the Word of Wisdom, the law of tithing, and the sanctity of the Sabbath day. Those are bedrock principles of a life devoted to Jesus Christ and His work.
Your temple recommend reflects a deep, spiritual intent that you are striving to live the laws of the Lord and love what He loves: humility, meekness, steadfastness, charity, courage, compassion, forgiveness, and obedience. And you commit yourself to those standards when you sign your name to that sacred document.
Your temple recommend opens the gates of heaven for you and others with rites and ordinances of eternal significance, including baptisms, endowments, marriages, and sealings.
To be “recommended to the Lord” is to be reminded of what is expected of a covenant-keeping Latter-day Saint. My father-in-law, Blaine, saw it as invaluable preparation for the day when he would humbly stand before the Lord.
Consider when Moses climbed Mount Horeb and the Lord Jehovah appeared to him in a burning bush. God told him, “Put off thy shoes from off thy feet, for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground.”
Putting off our shoes at the door of the temple is letting go of worldly desires or pleasures that distract us from spiritual growth, setting aside those things which sidetrack our precious mortality, rising above contentious behavior, and seeking time to be holy.
By divine design, our physical body is a creation of God, a temple for our spirit, and should be treated with reverence. So true are the words of the Primary song: “My body is a temple [that] needs the greatest care.” When the Lord appeared to the Nephites, He commanded, “Be sanctified by the reception of the Holy Ghost, that ye may stand spotless before me.” “What manner of men ought ye to be?” asked the Lord and then answered, “Even as I am.” To be “recommended to the Lord,” we strive to be like Him.
I remember hearing President Howard W. Hunter in his first general conference address as the 14th President of the Church. He said: “It is the deepest desire of my heart to have every member of the Church worthy to enter the temple. It would please the Lord if every adult member would be worthy of?—and carry?—a current temple recommend.” I would add that a limited-use recommend will set a clear path for our precious youth.
President Russell M. Nelson recalled President Hunter’s words: “On that day, June 6, 1994, the temple recommend that we carry became a different object in my wallet. Before that, it was a means to an end. It was the means to allow me to enter a sacred house of the Lord; but after he made that declaration, that became an end in itself. It became my badge of obedience to a prophet of God.”
If you have yet to receive a recommend or if your recommend has lapsed, line up at the door of the bishop just as the early Saints lined up at the door of the Nauvoo Temple in 1846. My ancestors were among those faithful. They were abandoning their beautiful city and going west, but they knew that there were sacred experiences awaiting them in the temple. Wrote Sarah Rich from the rugged trail in Iowa, “If it had not been for the faith and knowledge that was bestowed upon us in that temple … , our journey would have been like … taking a leap in the dark.” That is what we are missing if we are going through this life alone without the inspiration and peace promised in the temple.
Begin the process now to become “recommended to the Lord” so that His Spirit will be with you in abundance and His standards will bring you “peace of conscience.”
Your youth leaders, elders quorum president, Relief Society president, and ministering brothers and sisters will help you prepare, and your bishop or branch president lovingly will guide you.
We have been experiencing a time when temples have been closed or limited in use. For President Nelson and those of us who serve at his side, the inspired decision to close the temples was “painful” and “wracked with worry.” President Nelson found himself asking, “What would I say to the Prophet Joseph Smith? What would I say to Brigham Young, Wilford Woodruff and the other Presidents, on up to President Thomas S. Monson?”
Now, we gradually and gratefully are reopening temples for sealings and endowments on a limited scale.
Being worthy to attend the temple, however, has not been suspended. Let me emphasize, whether you have access to a temple or not, you need a current temple recommend to stay firmly on the covenant path.
Late last year Sister Rasband and I were on assignment in New Zealand speaking with a large group of young single adults. They had no easy access to a temple; the one in Hamilton was being renovated, and they were still awaiting the groundbreaking for the temple in Auckland. However, I felt prompted to encourage them to renew or receive temple recommends.
Even though they could not present them at the temple, they would be presenting themselves before the Lord pure and prepared to serve Him. Being worthy to hold a current temple recommend is both a protection from the adversary, because you have made a firm commitment to the Lord about your life, and a promise that the Spirit will be with you.
We do temple work when we search for our ancestors and submit their names for ordinances. While our temples have been closed, we have still been able to research our families. With the Spirit of God in our hearts, we are, by proxy, standing in for them to be “recommended to the Lord.”
When I was serving as the Executive Director of the Temple Department, I heard President Gordon B. Hinckley refer to this scripture spoken by the Lord about the Nauvoo Temple: “Let the work of my temple, and all the works which I have appointed unto you, be continued on and not cease; and let your diligence, and your perseverance, and patience, and your works be redoubled, and you shall in nowise lose your reward, saith the Lord of Hosts.”
Our work in the temple is tied to our eternal reward. Recently we have been put to the test. The Lord has called us to work in the temples with “diligence, … perseverance, and patience.” Being “recommended to the Lord” requires those qualities. We must be diligent in living the commandments, persevere in our attention to our temple covenants, and be grateful for what the Lord continues to teach about them and be patient as we wait for temples to reopen in their fulness.
When the Lord calls for us to “redouble” our efforts, He is asking that we increase in righteousness. For example, we may expand our study of the scriptures, our family history research, and our prayers of faith that we may share our love for the Lord’s house with those preparing to receive a temple recommend, our family members in particular.
I promise you as an Apostle of the Lord Jesus Christ that as you strive to redouble your righteous efforts, you will feel renewed in your devotion to God the Father and Jesus Christ, you will feel an abundance of the Holy Ghost guiding you, you will be grateful for your sacred covenants, and you will feel peace knowing you are “recommended to the Lord.” In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

“I have a challenge for you,” Antonio’s Primary teacher said. “One way to be like Jesus is to help others. So this week, try to help as many people as you can.”
She gave everyone a piece of paper and 12 smiley-face stickers. “Each time you help someone, put a smiley face on your paper. Then bring your paper to class next week.”
Antonio was excited to do the challenge. But it was harder than it sounded. Soon it was already Thursday, and he still didn’t have any stickers on his paper. “Heavenly Father, please help me find someone to help,” he prayed.
The next morning, Antonio told Mom about the challenge. “I don’t know who to help!” he said.
Just then, Antonio’s baby brother started crying. “I can watch Zach while you make breakfast,” Antonio said.
He made some silly faces. Soon Zach was smiling and giggling.
“If that’s not worth a smiley face,” Mom said, “I don’t know what is!”
After breakfast, Antonio washed the dishes. He took a spider out of his sister’s bedroom. Two more smiley faces!
After school Antonio helped Dad give their dog, Radar, a bath outside. When they were done, Radar shook the water from his fur. Antonio and Dad laughed.
Then Antonio saw Mr. Wakefield across the street pulling weeds. “Can I help him, Dad? He looks really hot and tired.”
“That’s a great idea,” Dad said. When the last weed was gone, Mr. Wakefield had a big smile.
By Saturday, Antonio had 11 smiley faces on his paper. He needed just one more to finish the challenge! Mom said they were going to visit Great-Uncle Francisco, who lived in a nursing home. That gave Antonio an idea! He got out his crayons and drew lots of pictures.
When they got there, Antonio handed his uncle a picture of a sunset. Uncle Francisco gave Antonio a little smile. Then Antonio gave the rest of the pictures to other people who lived there. There were so many happy smiles!
On the way home, Mom said, “We can stop at a store to get more smiley face stickers if you want.”
“I didn’t do it to get more stickers,” Antonio said. “I like making people happy.”
“And that makes Heavenly Father and Jesus happy!” Dad said.
“Looks like you’re happy too,” Mom said. Antonio was smiling so big his cheeks hurt.
This story took place in the USA.

One Sunday morning some 30 years ago, while I was serving in a stake presidency, we received a telephone call from one of our faithful bishops. He explained that his ward had grown so rapidly that he could no longer provide a meaningful calling to all worthy members. His plea to us was that we divide the ward. While waiting for such approval, we decided as a stake presidency that we would visit the ward and call all these wonderful, worthy brothers and sisters to be stake missionaries.

About the third person I visited was a young female student attending the local university. After chatting for a few moments, I issued the call to serve as a missionary. There was silence for a few moments. Then she said, “President, don’t you know that I am not active in the Church?”

After a few moments of silence on my part, I said, “No, I did not know you were not active.”

She answered, “I have not been active in the Church for years.” Then she said, “Don’t you know that when you have been inactive, it’s not all that easy to come back?”

I responded, “No. Your ward starts at 9:00 a.m. You come into the chapel, and you are with us.”

She answered, “No, it is not that easy. You worry about a lot of things. You worry if someone will greet you or if you will sit alone and unnoticed during the meetings. And you worry about whether you will be accepted and who your new friends will be.”

With tears rolling down her cheeks, she continued, “I know that my mother and father have been praying for me for years to bring me back into the Church.” Then after a moment of silence, she said, “For the last three months I have been praying to find the courage, the strength, and the way to come back into activity.” Then she asked, “President, do you suppose this calling could be an answer to those prayers?”

My eyes started to water as I responded, “I believe the Lord has answered your prayers.”

She not only accepted the call; she became a fine missionary. And I’m certain she brought much joy not only to herself but also to her parents and probably other family members.

It would be an interesting experience for some of you to walk through a few days of our relationships with youth as we visit with them in person, by telephone, in interviews, by mail. It is just a few days ago that I deplaned at a major airport, met some of you leaders there, and a beautiful young college-age lady who was waiting for me. She had left her home against the wishes of her parents and others and had hitchhiked to a rock festival. On her way home from that adventure, hitchhiking now with a male companion, she was picked up by officers of the law, arrested for possession of drugs, tried, and sentenced to five years in prison. Through the intervention of our local brethren, who were reached by a distraught mother through the bishop, she was given parole freedom, but the record has been made and her life is hanging in the balance. She has some decisions to make.
On my desk is a current letter, one of many, from an anguished girl crying for help. Three times the words are repeated, “Please help me.” Within hours there has been a call, another call, from a disturbed young man seeking guidance for his friend who questions a Church position which he feels he cannot accept, which he thinks makes his position in the Church tenuous or untenable.
In my hand I hold a letter received two days ago from a faithful, brokenhearted father whose son, about the same age as the others, took his own life, notwithstanding the efforts of loving parents and a fine, wholesome family. I wish there were time to read a description of how hard these marvelous parents have tried. This is a missionary family, a committed family, a stay-together family; yet this boy, convinced of his own worthlessness, that he was a failure and that the mistakes he had made were disqualifying, took his own life. His father sent a copy of the note he left, and asked me to make such use of his letter and this letter as judgment and my feelings suggested.
What can we do? How can we help this great young generation meet the challenges of their time? I am certain that we must thoughtfully examine not only their needs and their problems, and what we have to give them, but how we undertake to give it, and what we appear to them to be as they observe it. I have been rethinking my own experience and will give you just an example or two quickly. May I do it in the spirit of a statement that to me for a long time has been very choice: “Neither laugh nor weep, nor loathe, but understand.”
What are some of their problems? These basic observations have come from experience with youth and from their own lips and lives. I can sum them up in four or five needs.
First, they need faith. They need to believe. They need to know the doctrines, the commandments, the principles of the gospel. They need to grow in understanding and conviction. They need to worship and to pray, but they live in a time when all of this is so seriously questioned, when doubt is encouraged.
Two, they need to be accepted as they are, and to be included. They need a family, the most important social unit in this world; and even if they have a good family, they need the supportive influence outside their home of others, of neighbors, of friends, of bishops, of brothers, of human beings.
Three, they need to be actively involved, to participate, to give service, to give of themselves.
Four, they have to learn somehow that they are more important than their mistakes; that they are worthwhile, valuable, useful; that they are loved unconditionally.
I knelt with my own family, at the conclusion of a great family home evening, the night before our lovely daughter was to be married in the temple. I think she wouldn’t mind my telling you that after we had laughed and wept and remembered, she was asked to pray. I don’t recall much of her prayer, the tears and the joy and the sweetness, but I remember one thought: she thanked God for the unconditional love she had received. This life doesn’t give one very many chances to feel exultant and a little successful, but I felt wonderful that night, and thank God that she really believes and understands what she said. We cannot, my dear brethren, condition our love by a beard or beads or habits or strange viewpoints. There have to be standards and they must be enforced, but our love must be unconditional.
I read you just a sentence from the letter left by the boy who ended his own life: “I have no hope, only dreams that have died. I was never able to obtain satisfactory interpersonal relationships. I feared the future and a lot of other things. I felt inferior. I have almost no will to achieve, perseverance, or sense of worth, so goodbye. I should have listened to you but I didn’t. I started using acid last summer. It’s purgatory.” What a tragic story!
We need to understand their needs. They need to learn the gospel. They need to be accepted, to be involved, to be loved; and they need, my brethren—my fifth and final point—the example of good men, good parents, good people, who really care.
I went to the funeral of my cousin a few weeks ago, and I pass on to you something that touched me deeply there. Maybe it is the message I can share with those of us who can do something, if we will, for our great young generation. A man who served as his counselor, now himself the bishop, said of my cousin: “Every boy in his lifetime has the right to know a man like Ivan Frame.”

In such a dream, my grandfather’s ears were opened and instruction was given, or sealed, that would change our family for eternity.
Brígido Becerra grew up in Puebla, Mexico. Sadly, he grew up without a father, and at the age of 11, Brígido’s mother died in his arms. He was left alone to live his life as best as he could. At the time, there were no social programs or opportunities to assist an orphan boy like Brígido. Without any guidance or someone to care for him, Brígido became addicted to alcohol. That addiction negatively affected almost every aspect of his life.
At one point his addiction become so severe, he felt he was going to lose his wife and children. In desperation, he decided to pray. He had not been raised with any religion and so offered a prayer in his own way. He pleaded for help to overcome his addiction and sincerely sought to find an escape from his problems.
Sometime after he uttered that sincere prayer, sister missionaries of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints visited his home. They had met his wife, Julia, and had told the children about Primary at the local ward. They now sought Brígido’s permission for the children to attend.
The sisters began to teach Brígido and his family about the Restoration of the gospel of Jesus Christ. Back then, missionaries taught using flannel boards to show pictures while they were teaching. During this lesson they showed a picture of the Prophet Joseph Smith. Brígido immediately recognized the man in the picture. He told the sister missionaries he knew this man. They were puzzled by what Brígido said. He was from Mexico and Joseph Smith had lived and died in the United States many years before Brígido was even born. There was no way Brígido knew Joseph Smith.
My grandfather then shared his dream with the missionaries. He told them he dreamed that he was working on his small ranch cutting alfalfa with his machete and gathering other food to feed his chickens and pigs. As he was busy working, a large serpent attacked him. My grandfather fought the serpent as best he could, but it wrapped itself around him, opened its mouth, and was about to swallow him whole.
At that very moment of peril, a man dressed in white, and with a sword in hand, cut off the head of the serpent. As it fell dead at Brígido’s feet, he looked up to see who had saved his life. He did not recognize the man but noted he was dressed in white. Then he explained that the man in the picture the sisters were sharing was the man in his dream. Brígido had immediately recognized that this was the man in his dream, the man who saved him. Now he knew the man’s name was Joseph Smith.
This dream was a vivid learning experience for my grandfather. He felt it was a direct answer to his prayers and pleadings. He said he felt that the serpent was a representation of his addiction to alcohol. And he understood, through the powerful teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith and the doctrine of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ, that he would be able to overcome his addiction. He knew he would find relief and receive the full blessings of the Atonement of Jesus Christ.
Elder Becerra’s grandfather, Brígido Becerra and his wife, photographed on their only visit to the United States.
Photograph courtesy of the author
Shortly after sharing this experience with the sister missionaries, my grandfather Brígido Becerra was baptized a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He loved the gospel of Christ. He had a special love for the Book of Mormon and all the prophets, especially Joseph Smith.
My grandfather’s dream led him to the true gospel of Christ and not only saved him from a life of addiction and sorrow but also blessed generations of faithful members of the Church. When my grandfather passed away at the age of 98, he left approximately 120 descendants—children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and great-great-grandchildren. Each one has been affected by his dream and by his legacy of testimony and faithfulness to the Church and to the Savior, Jesus Christ.

They returned to work, and Oliver began to wonder if he could translate as well.30 He believed that God could work through instruments like seer stones, and he had occasionally used a divining rod to find water and minerals. Yet he was unsure if his rod worked by the power of God. The process of revelation was still a mystery to him.31
Joseph again brought Oliver’s questions to the Lord, and the Lord told Oliver that he had power to acquire knowledge if he asked in faith. The Lord confirmed that Oliver’s rod worked by the power of God, like Aaron’s rod in the Old Testament. He then taught Oliver more about revelation. “I will tell you in your mind and in your heart, by the Holy Ghost,” He declared. “Behold, this is the spirit of revelation.”
He also told Oliver that he could translate the record like Joseph did, as long as he relied on faith. “Remember,” the Lord said, “without faith you can do nothing.”32
After the revelation, Oliver was excited to translate. He followed Joseph’s example, but when the words did not come easily, he grew frustrated and confused.
Joseph saw his friend’s struggle and sympathized. It had taken him time to tune his heart and mind to the work of translation, but Oliver seemed to think he could master it quickly. It was not enough to have a spiritual gift. He had to cultivate and develop it over time for use in God’s work.
Oliver soon gave up on translating and asked Joseph why he had not been successful.
Joseph asked the Lord. “You have supposed that I would give it unto you, when you took no thought save it was to ask me,” the Lord replied. “You must study it out in your mind; then you must ask me if it be right.”
The Lord instructed Oliver to be patient. “It is not expedient that you should translate now,” He said. “The work which you are called to do is to write for my servant Joseph.” He promised Oliver other opportunities to translate later, but for now he was the scribe and Joseph was the seer.33

Our next stop was at the home of the American consul in the city of Porto. My companion and I had been teaching him and his family. They were rich and lived in a large home in one of the most affluent neighborhoods in the city. When we arrived at the gate of the estate, the servants recognized us and let us enter. Soon we were at the front door and started to sing the same songs we had just sting to the poor people in the monastery.
Our group consisted of more than twenty missionaries from several parts of the world—Brazil, Portugal, Angola, the United States, Canada, Paraguay, and Colombia. We had barely started the second verse of our first song when the door opened. Dozens of people came outside and started to sing with us. They were all diplomatic representatives of several countries who had gathered there to commemorate Christmas. We soon saw in their faces the same tears and smiles we had seen in the faces of the poor people living in that abandoned monastery.
When we finished singing, the wife of the consul said, “We were gathered here with everything to make us happy; nevertheless, we felt that something was missing. It was then that you came, bringing the Christmas spirit of Jesus Christ; now our Christmas is complete.”
We were invited in, and each missionary, in his own language, bore testimony to the diplomats from his country. As in the monastery, we left pamphlets and invited them to hear the discussions and attend church.
That Christmas night, we learned that sharing sacred songs and personal testimony was the best present that anyone, rich or poor, of any nation or faith, could receive. That night, those gifts without price brought the Spirit of the Lord into our hearts—the most priceless gift of all.

It started when I was a devout, hardcore Calvinist. Though I’d returned to full activity a couple years before, questions I’d had since childhood lingered in the background of my mind. Over the previous months and years leading to meeting the missionaries, they grew and multiplied after receiving no satisfactory answer from asking or researching them. These endeavours to discover more truth left me with more confusion. They were corrosive to my faith. Its crescendo was when these queries led to a faith crisis. I doubted everything from the most minor of doctrines to the very existence of God.
One night, I earnestly and desperately prayed to know who He is, for help. By then, I was closer to agnosticism than Christianity. Mere days later, I met the missionaries when somebody I used to vaguely know from school (and hadn’t spoken to in over three years) added me to a group chat with Elders McIntosh and Beam. God sent me who I needed when I needed them.
The two things I remember from the conversation played a huge role in my conversion. When I joined a video call (late) Elder Beam was reading Moroni’s promise (see Moroni 10:3–5). His companion, Elder McIntosh, and he carried a sweet and sacred Spirit which impacted me. I didn’t recognise it at the time (two months would pass before I’d learn to recognise it) but it drew me to them. I wanted to know them; I wanted to know what they had to say.
From then on, I started meeting with them and learning of the Restoration of the gospel of Jesus Christ, of the Book of Mormon, of the Prophet Joseph Smith. Everything was so foreign to me, but I felt the Spirit every time. I started reading it for myself when (newly transferred in) Elder Baldwin invited me to read the Book of Enos. From there, I couldn’t stop reading. Even though I still didn’t believe it, I couldn’t stop. I knew something was different about the Book of Mormon. I thought about it constantly. It strengthened my faith in a loving God.
Over the next few months, I did a deep dive into researching the Church of Jesus Christ, the positives and negatives. In doing so, in meeting the missionaries and following through on the commitments I made, in praying, in reading the Book of Mormon alongside the Bible, every single question I had was answered fully. The biggest questions such as the nature of God (I was never fully satisfied with descriptions of a triune God) were answered. The smallest questions I had were answered just the same. It was a miracle.
When I was finally blessed with the foundations of a testimony in this great latter-day work, it was not yet the end of my journey to baptism. Why? Because I was aware I would have to sacrifice many friendships and relationships I’d had with people my entire life. I knew there were people who meant a great deal to me who would never want anything to do with me again — and they didn’t. I had spiritual leaders in my life tell me I was turning my back on Jesus Christ and what He’d done for me. More than anything else, that hurt me deeply. I investigated and learned more of the Church because I love my Saviour so much. If I didn’t love and believe the Bible as much as I did, or have the foundations I had, I would never have believed the Book of Mormon.
A few weeks later, I realised something: Jesus Christ walked the walk to Calvary for me, the least I could do is walk the walk to the baptism font, and beyond, even if I had to do so alone, without the friends I’d had for decades. I did so. Every sacrifice I made to join the Church of my Lord Jesus Christ was far outweighed by the bounteous and sacred blessings He gave me.
It was a long journey which took very close to 10 months. But the walk through the valley took me to the truth, to the temple, to my beautiful wife, and closer to my Saviour, Jesus Christ.
I know this is His Church. I know He is the Saviour and Redeemer of mankind. I know God is our loving Heavenly Father. I know we can come closer to them by reading the scriptures. I know we can be blessed and come closer to them by living the covenants we make in the font and in the holy temple. This is the true Church of Jesus Christ.

Once I had to choose between attending a Church activity and going to a friend’s party. It was a difficult decision. I didn’t want to disappoint my friend, but I felt that attending the Church activity was more important. I prayed about it, and I felt peace about choosing the Church activity.
My friend was disappointed at first, but she understood my decision when I explained my reasons. My experience showed me that when I put God first, everything else falls into place. It also strengthened my belief that God will guide me when I seek His help through prayer.

Before he became a member of the Church, Peter had spent most of his adult life chasing financial success. By all outward appearances, he seemed to have found it. After all, he had owned and run several businesses.
When a local Church leader in West Midlands, England, asked Peter to join a personal finances group offered through the Church’s self-reliance initiative, he doubted that the course could teach him anything. Once Peter started attending the group, however, he quickly realized how much he still had to learn.
“The course is not just about finances; that is only half of the story,” he says. “The most important thing for me was learning to have faith in Heavenly Father—how He provides us all temporal blessings and opens the door to true self-reliance if we follow His spiritual guidance.”
As a member of a personal finances group, Peter learned practical skills such as tracking family spending, creating and living on a budget, reducing debt, and saving for the future. Using these skills, along with exercising faith in Jesus Christ and working hard, Peter and his wife repaid a large debt.
“I am feeling significantly lighter and freer without the fear associated with debt and financial disorganization,” he says. “I am feeling the abundant blessings of Heavenly Father in a way I have never felt before. I have learned how to petition Him and listen to His answers when I need help with my temporal affairs.”

Amber Martin and Kortney Kline are closer to earning their Young Women Personal Progress Award after organizing all the youth in the Valley Forge Pennsylvania Stake to donate their reading books to an inner-city school in Philadelphia. A stake youth dance was held and the “admission fee” was to bring some books. Amber and Kortney managed to collect over 500 books. These two young women said it was an awesome experience to give youth in their stake an opportunity to donate books to students in need.

A little boy and his father were flying a kite on a windy day. As the kite rose higher, it tugged on the connecting string in the little boy’s hand. The boy thought they should cut the string to let the kite rise higher.
His wise father said no. He said the string is what holds the kite in place. If we lose our hold on the string, the kite will not rise higher. It will be carried about by the winds and crash to the earth.
The string is like the covenants, or promises, that connect us to Heavenly Father and His Son, Jesus Christ. We honor those covenants by keeping the commandments and following Their plan for us. As we do, Their promised blessings can help us soar to celestial heights.
Covenants tie us to Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. Read each scripture to learn about a different covenant. Then draw a line from the scripture to the matching picture to make a string for each kite!
Mosiah 18:10
Doctrine and Covenants 20:75–79
Doctrine and Covenants 132:19
Illustrations by Melissa Manwill Kashiwagi

How blessed we are to be led by a living prophet! Growing up during the Great Depression, President Thomas S. Monson learned how to serve others. Often his mother asked him to deliver food to needy neighbors, and she would give homeless men odd jobs in exchange for home-cooked meals. Later as a young bishop, he was taught by President J. Reuben Clark, “Be kind to the widow and look after the poor” (see Thomas S. Monson, in Conference Report, Apr. 1986, 79; or Ensign, May 1986, 62). President Monson looked after 84 widows and cared for them until they passed away. Through the years, his service to members and neighbors throughout the world has become the hallmark of his ministry. We are grateful to have his example. Thank you, President Monson.

A registry wedding was arranged. I had only once briefly met my wife before the registry wedding. A date was set for the Sikh wedding a year later. There was no contact with my wife until a few months after the registry wedding; we met secretly and I explained to her I was Christian and gave her a Book of Mormon. However, this did not go down well as she told her parents and then both families engaged in persuading me to leave the Church. I made promises to do this. It tore me apart and I cried bitterly, as though I had denied Jesus Christ.
The Sikh marriage took place, and I kept my promise to not to go to Church for six months. Every Sunday I would get the yearning to go to Church. I went secretly to a member’s home to take the sacrament and always paid my tithing, read the scriptures, and prayed daily. I desperately needed a solution to this problem.
One day, my best friend from the Church provided it. I was to leave my parent’s house and establish a home elsewhere. I managed to get employment in Burntwood (Staffordshire) and bought a home there. After some time, my wife, Rajinder, let me go to a one-hour meeting one Sunday and I was called as the Sunday School president. But Rajinder refused to let the children go with me and at one time ripped up the Book of Mormon in front of me. She had been brought up as a strict Sikh and did not want to dishonour her family.
In 1982, we moved to Hemel Hempstead (Hertfordshire). The meetings were now consolidated, and I stayed for the whole three hours. I was called as the elders quorum president. An elderly missionary couple were assigned to visit my home, and for the first time Rajinder said a prayer and felt the Spirit. I subsequently baptised her. We were later sealed in the London England Temple with our children.
In 1986, I was called to be the branch president. I served in that capacity for three and half years and was released when our branch was merged into the Watford Ward.
My testimony has grown from strength to strength. I love the Lord and His restored gospel. I am in His hands and will always give thanks to Him for saving me and sending those missionaries. The evidence that this is the true church, is too great; I cannot deny it. Regardless of what happens to me or my family I will bless the Lord my God. I believe in His goodness, and that He will uphold me if I do as He asks. I give daily thanks for all the blessings He has given me and the tender mercies He has shown me.
I have recently published a book called LDS Christians and Sikhs. This book was the result of an inspiration I received to invite Sikhs to come to Christ. I have included many testimonies from Sikhs who have converted to the Church. I hope that it will do some good in persuading and inviting Sikhs to examine their religion and to offer them further blessings through the gospel.

In the humid heat of a Thai morning, the newly ordained elder knelt on an old newspaper to protect his knees from the rough concrete floor of the hut. He was wearing a second-hand white shirt, an old tie, and sandals on his feet. Reverently, he broke bread and blessed it. Thach Khuong was not only grateful for the opportunity to participate in a sacrament service, but also for life itself. He had recently led his family through the dangers of war-ravaged Vietnam and Cambodia to the promise of freedom and safety in a United Nations refugee camp in Panat Nikom, Thailand.
When Brother Thach first arrived at the camp, he surprised Church welfare services missionary Elyce Jones by shaking her hand instead of giving her the traditional Cambodian bow of greeting. He told her that he was a member of the Church and that he held the Aaronic Priesthood. It was welcome news. Welfare services missionaries were assigned to teach refugees Western culture and English as a second language, but it was against United Nations’ policy for them to proselyte. However, with proper authority, refugee Church members were permitted to conduct Church affairs, including Sunday services.
At Brother Thach’s news, Sister Jones and other welfare services missionaries contacted Elder Marion D. Hanks of the First Quorum of the Seventy, then the Church executive administrator for Southeast Asia, and informed him that an Aaronic priesthood holder had arrived in the camp. Following a personal interview, Elder Hanks ordained Thach Khuong to the office of elder. “Brother Thach was our first priesthood holder in the camp,” says Sister Jones. “With his ordination, we were permitted to hold Sunday services.”

My missionary companion and I were having difficulty getting along well together. I still do not know all that lay at the root of our difficulties, but after we had been together only a few weeks, walking the streets of a small Brazilian town, resentment, pride, and petty differences began to darken our relationship. Our prayers together became more and more perfunctory, and resentment more and more frequently broke out in sharp words. Almost unnoticed, the Spirit began to slip away from us.
One afternoon, after one of many unfruitful days of tracting and visiting members, and with what promised to be a barren afternoon stretching before us, we decided that we could fill some of the empty spaces on our daily activity records by visiting Antonio. Antonio was a nonmember whose wife had joined the Church several years before but had been only marginally active. He respected the missionaries and several times had shown sufficient faith to ask them to administer to him when he was ill. My present companion and I had administered to him twice, and I knew that earlier elders had done so. All of that took place before we learned that Antonio was dying of an abdominal cancer and had only a few months, perhaps weeks, to live.
When his wife answered the door that day, she looked drawn and worried. She took us into her kitchen, from which an open door led to Antonio’s room. Through the door we saw Antonio threshing in agony on a narrow bed, unconscious that we were even there.
We were suddenly at a complete loss for what to do or say. Antonio’s wife looked at us silently. We looked at each other, at Antonio, at the floor. We had no idea what to do, and worse, without a word being spoken between us, we knew that we were both thinking that we were in no spiritual condition to do anything. Finally, one of us asked if there was a room where we could be alone for a while. Antonio’s wife showed us to a bedroom, and we closed the door behind us.
We knelt and took turns praying, at first asking the Lord to make known to us his will concerning Antonio. In the silence that answered our first prayers, the knowledge of our unworthiness to receive an answer fairly shouted at us. Then, at first awkwardly and cautiously, and finally pleadingly, we began to confess to the Lord and to each other our sin in allowing vanity and pride to rob us of the power to act in our priesthood. We pleaded that Antonio not be denied release from his suffering because of our unworthiness, that the Lord would forgive our sin and bless us with faith and power to bless Antonio, or that he would bless Antonio without us.
We must have prayed for half an hour, taking turns, before a peace came to us. We agreed that we should go out, lay our hands on Antonio, and let the Spirit guide us.
When we went out, his wife asked, “Did you pray?” We said yes, and she said, “He has gone to sleep.”
We left the house subdued and chastened. Permanently and profoundly recorded in our hearts was a hard-learned lesson in the foolishness of allowing personal differences to cut us off from the source of the power to bless.

“You should go talk to a mental health counselor.”
This advice came as a huge surprise. I had just told a close friend about how stressed I was about getting into a prestigious accounting program, maintaining relationships, and dating as a recently returned missionary. I had never even considered the idea of therapy, and I felt like talking to a counselor was only for people who had big problems or were too weak to deal with challenges on their own. My friend had only good things to say about his own experience talking to a counselor, so I began to consider it.
Soon my anxiety got worse. After sleepless nights of worrying, I decided to schedule an appointment. I was nervous about what other people might say or think if they knew I was going to see a counselor, but at that point my anxiety was affecting my ability to function, so I went.
At the appointment, the counselor asked lots of questions that helped me come to answers on my own. The counselor didn’t give me a magic solution to my struggles. He also didn’t treat me like I was crazy—he had seen a lot of people with struggles similar to mine. In some ways, it felt like going to a medical doctor. He was a professional with experience in diagnosing the problem and had the expertise to teach me how to prevent and treat anxiety.
Along with other suggestions, the counselor suggested that I write my feelings and thoughts in my journal. This was a huge help in overcoming my anxiety. I also kept exercising, spending time with friends and family, eating healthily (or as healthily as a guy in college who was cooking for himself could), studying the scriptures, attending church, and praying.
After meeting with the counselor a few times, two things changed for me: First, I had new, healthier perspectives on my anxieties, myself, and other people; and second, I felt like I had helpful tools I could use in future anxiety-provoking situations. I wasn’t completely cured of anxiety, but I felt like I could deal with it better when it flared up again. Since then, I haven’t had to go back to the counselor, but if I ever needed to, I wouldn’t be worried about getting help—I’ve learned that there’s no reason to suffer in silence or be embarrassed of seeking professional help for a mental health issue.

Sam pushed through the doors of the restaurant. His stomach grumbled. He was so hungry! This restaurant made the best fried chicken ever. His family often came here after soccer practice.
Sam and Mom walked to the counter to order. “Hi, Emma!” said Sam. Emma was their favorite server. She was always friendly and nice.
“How was soccer practice?” Emma asked with a big smile.
“It was great. We’re going to win our next game!” Sam said.
“You’ll have to tell me all about it,” Emma said.
Sam grinned, and his family placed their order.
The next week Sam’s team did win! He couldn’t wait to tell Emma. But Emma wasn’t at the restaurant.
She wasn’t there the next week either. Sam missed seeing her.
A few weeks later, Sam’s family came to the restaurant again. Sam saw Emma cleaning tables. He hurried over to say hello.
“You’re back!” said Sam. “We’ve missed you.”
“We are so happy to see you again,” Mom said.
“Thank you.” Emma kind of smiled. But her eyes looked really sad.
“Are you OK?” Sam asked.
“No. My husband passed away. That’s why I haven’t been here.”
Mom gave Emma a hug. Seeing Emma sad made Sam sad too.
When their food was ready, Sam helped carry the tray to their table. He couldn’t stop thinking about how sad Emma looked. He sat down but didn’t feel like eating anything. He wanted to help her feel better. But what could he do?
Then Sam remembered something. Their bishop had given little cards to all the families at church. The cards showed what times people could watch general conference on TV or listen on the radio. The bishop said that conference was a wonderful time to feel peace.
“Mom, can we give Emma a card for general conference?” Sam asked. If Emma watched conference, maybe that would help her feel a little better.
“That’s a great idea.” Mom reached into her purse and pulled out a card. “Here,” she said. “You can give her this one.”
Sam took the card from Mom. He walked to the counter and asked the worker if he could talk with Emma.
“I’m sorry, but she’s busy right now,” the man said.
“That’s OK,” said Sam. “Could you give this to her? It’s an invitation to watch a special conference for my church.” Sam handed the man the card. “You can watch too, if you want!”
The man smiled. “Thanks! I’ll be sure to get this to her.”
When Sam walked back to their table, he felt warm inside.
“How did it go?” Mom asked.
“Emma was busy, so I gave the card to another worker to give to her,” said Sam. “Now two people will see the card! Maybe they will both watch conference and feel peace.”
This story took place in Guam.

Along with Brother Marsh, many have received blessings as they have sought to establish the Lord’s restored Church throughout the world. One example is Johann and Theresia Huber, who helped establish the Church in Austria in the early 1900s.
When the Huber family was baptized into the Church and left Catholicism, the dominant faith of Austria, many social and legal issues arose. When people learned that the Huber children weren’t attending confession, they threatened to remove the children from their home. Some even told Theresia to leave Johann.
After World War I, previous religious constraints dissolved, allowing people to practice their faith more freely. The Lord watched over the Huber family as they continued to share the gospel, and soon a small branch began to meet in the Hubers’ barn. Johann was called to serve as the first branch president in Austria. He served for 25 years.1

“Hey, do you see what I see?” Jonathan whispered to his three buddies. “I sure do,” Brian answered. “Looks like trouble to me. Let’s get out of here!”
Jonathan and his friends were at a band competition at a school across the city. Their band had already performed, and now Jonathan and his friends were walking through the school because they were tired of sitting around. They had walked down a hall between the school’s gymnasium and empty classrooms. They had turned a corner and found themselves in the gym entrance. At the far end of the huge room, a bunch of boys appeared to be writing or spraying something on the walls.
Jonathan and his friends turned abruptly and headed back around the corner, but not before they were noticed.
“Hey, you! Come back here!” someone yelled.
Jonathan and Brian took off running with Todd and Jackson in hot pursuit.
“Let’s get them!” someone yelled, and the sound of running feet drumming across the gym floor spurred the friends on faster still.
As he ran, Jonathan noticed a boys’ bathroom door.
“Quick! Let’s hide in here!” he yelled, sliding to a stop and pushing open the door.
All four boys crowded in, pushed the door shut, and stood silently in a small entry room. The only noise for a few moments was their heavy breathing.
Suddenly there was a commotion outside, and someone tried to push the door open. Jonathan and Brian pushed it shut again.
“Hey! They’re in here!” someone yelled.
There was a burst of energy from those outside trying to shove the door open. There was an equal burst inside trying to keep it shut. Jonathan and Brian slumped down on the floor, leaning their shoulders against the wall and pushing against the door with their feet. Todd pushed a trash can against the door, and braced himself between the can and the wall. Jackson braced his feet against the wall and pushed against the door with his back.
The commotion outside the bathroom got louder. The door would burst open an inch or two each time someone’s body slammed into it. Someone else was banging on the door with a hard object. Jonathan could not believe what was happening. He had looked forward to the excitement of this day for weeks, but he hadn’t wanted this kind of excitement.
As quickly as the whole thing had started, it ended. The yelling stopped. There was no more shoving or pounding on the door. Something must have frightened the attackers away. Jonathan and his friends waited a long time before they dared crack open the door to take a look around. No one was in sight. They slowly emerged from the restroom and found that the door was scratched and gouged.
“Let’s get out of here!” Todd said, looking around nervously.
The boys took off for the school cafeteria where the bands were performing. As they took a shortcut through the gym, a couple of older girls walked by them and said hi.
Jonathan and his friends sat at the back of the cafeteria and tried to make sense out of what had happened. They listened to another band play and debated what to do. Jonathan and Brian thought they should find their band teacher and tell him everything. Todd and Jackson insisted they shouldn’t tell anyone, because they might get accused of the damage. They didn’t have to argue for long. Mr. Jolstead, their bandleader, was striding toward them with a serious look on his face.
“Boys, I want to talk to you. Follow me outside.”
Before Mr. Jolstead had a chance to say another word, Brian jumped in and told him the whole story exactly as it had happened. Mr. Jolstead shook his head and frowned. “That’s not the story I’m hearing from the principal of this school. A couple of girls saw you boys come out of the gymnasium right after all the damage was done. They pointed you out to the principal. No one else was seen around there, and the principal is blaming you. He wants restitution for the damages, and I want to know—what is the truth?”
All four boys started to talk at once.
“Stop right there!” Mr. Jolstead put his hands up to indicate silence. He took a deep breath and looked at each boy slowly, eye to eye.
After what seemed like a long time, he turned to Jonathan. Mr. Jolstead was not a member of the Church, but his son was a member of Jonathan’s Scout troop. “Jonathan,” he said. “I know you are a Boy Scout and a Mormon. I want you to tell me the truth. What happened in there?”
A lot of questions flashed through Jonathan’s mind before he answered. Why didn’t Mr. Jolstead say that Brian’s family were important business people in the community and he wanted Brian to tell him the truth? Why didn’t he say that Todd’s parents were well-known teachers at their school and he wanted Todd to tell him the truth? Why didn’t he say that Jackson was an honor student and he wanted Jackson to tell him the truth? Why did he single out Jonathan? “Does he really trust me just because I’m a Boy Scout and a member of the Church?” he wondered.
Jonathan looked straight into Mr. Jolstead’s eyes. “It happened just like Brian told you,” he said. “And that is the truth.”
Mr. Jolstead finally smiled. “All right. I believe you,” he replied. “Let’s go talk to the principal.”
Jonathan’s band didn’t win that day, but, in a way, Jonathan did. He realized how much people respect members of the Church. He realized how closely people watch what members say and do. He knew one thing for sure—he would follow the Savior’s teachings more carefully than ever.