Gospel Story Finder

From the moment my feet hit the floor that morning, I could tell something was off.
Do you ever have one of those days—almost like a beat-yourself-up kind of day? I spent that entire morning criticizing myself for every single decision I had made.
As the morning progressed, I couldn’t seem to shake my feelings of inadequacy and failure. So I prayed to my loving Heavenly Father, begging for a change in attitude, the strength to get through the day, and opportunities to serve.
Afterward, the morning started to pick up pace. Before I knew it, I had completed almost all my duties for the day and was standing in my kitchen, preparing a yummy treat to give to my bosses for “Boss Day.” As I poured melted chocolate over rice cereal, an interesting thought came to my mind:
“You should give Sister Jones (name has been changed) some of your treat!”
I immediately pushed that thought aside. I counted off the people I had already dedicated a treat bag to and determined there wasn’t enough.
“I’ll send her a text and ask her how she’s doing,” I thought. “At least then she will know I was thinking of her!”
Well, as He often does, the Lord wanted me to do something I didn’t necessarily want to do. I finished making my treat and divided it evenly into just enough bags for the people on my list. As I arranged the treats, something made me pause. I counted and recounted the number of treats and was taken aback by what I found.
Somehow I had ended up with one extra bag. I smiled, knowing exactly who that treat bag was for.
But as I looked at my schedule for the rest of the day, I realized I just didn’t have time to deliver the treat.
“It will still be good tomorrow, or even the next day!” I thought. But suddenly, I felt this unexplainable urgency come over me. I knew I needed to go and deliver that treat, right then and there. So even though my hair was a mess, the meat for lunch still wasn’t defrosted, and this sister lived in a different town, I found myself looking up her address.
You know what is amazing? When you are on the Lord’s errand, you can truly feel His hand helping you. My hair never looked so good in so short a time, I was able to make a different meal for lunch, and it just so happened that my dad had filled up my car with gas a few days earlier. The Lord helped prepare the way for me to serve this sister.
But even with all that, as I headed down the highway, I thought of all the reasons this was the wrong idea. What if Sister Jones wasn’t home? What if she was home? What if she didn’t like chocolate? What if she caught me trying to covertly sneak it into her mailbox? What if an animal got it? Endless scenarios came charging through my mind, and honestly the only reason I stuck to the plan was because I was already over halfway there.
I finally pulled up to her house and mustered all my courage to go knock on her door. When there was no answer, I stuck the treat inside her doorway and raced back to my car.
Immediately, an overwhelming sensation of peace and happiness enveloped me. I felt so good! It was such a stark contrast to the dark mood I had woken up in, and I felt joy as the rest of the day sped by.
If you would have told me that adding a 30-minute trip into my crazy schedule would turn out to be a blessing, I would have laughed. However, that is exactly what it turned out to be.
Heavenly Father answered my humble prayer in a way I did not expect. He knew I needed an opportunity to serve so I could gain some perspective by putting someone else first. Honestly, I don’t think Sister Jones needed the treat; I, however, needed to give it to her. I cannot tell you how much peace came from that one simple act.

Years ago a friend of mine spoke of his grandmother. She had lived a full life, always faithful to the Lord and to His Church. Yet one of her grandsons chose a life of crime. He was finally sentenced to prison. My friend recalled that his grandmother, as she drove along a highway to visit her grandson in prison, had tears in her eyes as she prayed with anguish, “I’ve tried to live a good life. Why, why do I have this tragedy of a grandson who seems to have destroyed his life?”

The answer came to her mind in these words: “I gave him to you because I knew you could and would love him no matter what he did.”

“Cut your headlights. That must be him. Yep, ’80 rust bucket with an exhaust system loud enough to wake the neighborhood. Okay, he’s far enough ahead of us now. Pull out and follow him,” she said.
“Okay, so we followed him to this church and watched him go in. Now what? We know he hauls himself out of bed at an insane hour every morning to go to this church. You’ve seen what you wanted. Let’s go.”
“No. I want to wait a while and see if anybody else shows up. Then I’m going in to see what’s inside.”
“You’re going in? He’ll recognize you and know something’s up.”
“Don’t worry, baby brother. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m wearing my black wig today. I always wear my blonde wig to school. Anyway, I don’t exactly have the kind of face that will turn any heads. He’ll never know.”
“This is so stupid. If you’re that interested in this guy and his church, why don’t you just ask him what you want to know?”
“Listen. Anyone can mouth scriptures and high-sounding ideas. But does he really believe what he said last Wednesday. I want to know what this guy and everybody else inside are like when they don’t have an audience.”
“You can’t disgrace the Church by doing the right thing. I hear you substituted for the Gospel Essentials teacher this morning.”
Keith shrugged. “Another disaster. I was supposed to be giving a lesson on the importance of baptism, but halfway through the class this black-haired, skinny girl comes in and sits on the back row. All of a sudden the lesson plan goes completely out of my head and I start talking about the plan of salvation. About a half hour of this andshe excuses herself and cuts out of class.”
The bishop raised his eyebrows. “Sometimes that happens to me too. I feel impressed to teach certain principles at certain times.”
But Keith didn’t hear the bishop. “I drove away the only investigator that’s come to that class in a month.”
“Well, how’d it go? You look like you’re hyperventilating and your eyes are red. Should I call the doctor?”
“No, just give me a few minutes. I’ve decided I’m going to need your help tomorrow, though.”

When we forgive and forget, we give our children the opportunity to experience the miracle of forgiveness. During my years as an Aaronic Priesthood holder, a prominent individual in the stake was found guilty of illegal business practices and sent to prison. Stake members made many critical comments. My kind and forgiving father, who was on the stake high council at the time, brought us together as a family and taught us that there are no perfect people for the Lord to call, but there are many good and wonderful people whom He calls to strengthen the lives of others and also to be strengthened through service. Dad said that we would always be blessed for sustaining those whom the Lord has called to serve and that we ought to focus on their strengths and not on their weaknesses. My father’s forgiving and loving feelings toward our former leader taught me a powerful lesson that has been a guiding principle in my life.

When I was young, I worked in my father’s factory during vacations. The first question my father always asked after I received my salary was “What are you going to do with your money?”

I knew the answer and responded, “Pay my tithing and save for my mission.”

After working with him for about eight years and constantly answering his same question, my father figured he had taught me about paying my tithing. What he didn’t realize was that I had learned this important principle in just one weekend. Let me tell you how I learned that principle.

After some events related to a civil war in Central America, my father’s business went bankrupt. He went from about 200 full-time employees to fewer than five sewing operators who worked as needed in the garage of our home. One day during those difficult times, I heard my parents discussing whether they should pay tithing or buy food for the children.

On Sunday, I followed my father to see what he was going to do. After our Church meetings, I saw him take an envelope and put his tithing in it. That was only part of the lesson. The question that remained for me was what we were going to eat.

Early Monday morning, some people knocked on our door. When I opened it, they asked for my father. I called for him, and when he arrived, the visitors told him about an urgent sewing order they needed as quickly as possible. They told him that the order was so urgent that they would pay for it in advance. That day I learned the principles of paying tithing and the blessings that follow.

“Are we going to make someone’s day today?” David asked as he fastened himself in his car seat.
“We’re going to try to make someone’s day,” Mother answered.
Mother buckled baby Jeffrey into his car seat. Jeffrey squealed his let’s-get-going squeal.
“Who are we going to surprise?” David asked.
“Remember Mrs. Martin?” Mother said. “She just got home from the hospital.”
“I can sing for her,” David said. “Singing helps people feel better.”
“Mrs. Martin will enjoy hearing your songs,” Mother said. The car stopped. Jeffrey squealed his get-me-out squeal.
“May I carry the cinnamon bread?” David asked.
“Sure.” Mother laid the loaf of bread in David’s arms, then unbuckled Jeffrey.
David breathed in the buttery, cinnamony smell. He felt the bread warm his arms and hands.
Knock, knock.
No answer.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Come in,” a quiet voice called. Mother opened the door.
Jeffrey tried to grab the bread. He squealed his let-me-have-it squeal.
“Well, look who’s here,” Mrs. Martin whispered from her chair.
“Hi, Mrs. Martin,” David said. “Here’s some cinnamon bread for you, and it’s swirly inside. I sprinkled on the cinnamon.”
“Thank you, young man,” Mrs. Martin said. “I love cinnamon bread.”
David put the bread in the kitchen so Jeffrey couldn’t get it.
“We came to help a bit,” Mother said. She held Mrs. Martin’s hand while they talked about hospitals and medicine.
Jeffrey pulled himself up to the low table by the couch and pushed off all the papers. David picked them up.
A few minutes later Mother started washing dishes. After David dried the knives and forks and spoons, he plunked them into the drawer bins. Jeffrey tugged on his mother’s pant leg.
Mother swept the floor, and David held the dustpan. Jeffrey squealed his let-me-do-it squeal. So she helped Jeffrey dump the dustpan.
Mother tied up the trash, and all three of them carried it outside. David and Mother put a new plastic bag in the wastebasket. Jeffrey pulled a long train of bags out of the box. He squealed his see-what-I-can-do squeal.
Mrs. Martin laughed.
“Is it time to sing now?” David asked.
“It’s always time to sing,” Mrs. Martin said.
David sang “Two Little Blackbirds” while Jeffrey’s thumbs helped with the actions.
Then David did the actions as he sang, “Eency weency spider went up the water spout.” Jeffrey made a pretend spider climb up his arm, too.
David, Mother, and Jeffrey danced in a circle and sang:
“Happy helpers sing a song,
Happy helping all day long.
Happy helpers help you, too.
(They pointed to Mrs. Martin.)
Happy helpers now are through.”
Then all three happy helpers fell to the floor and laughed.
Mrs. Martin clapped a clap so tiny that no sound came with it. But a big smile did. She opened her arms to hug all three helpers.
“You have made my day,” Mrs. Martin said. l

President Thomas S. Monson was 22 years old when he was called to be a bishop. As a young bishop, he watched carefully over the members of his ward, especially those who didn’t often come to church.
One Sunday morning he noticed that a young man named Richard was missing. This was not unusual because Richard often missed church. But Bishop Monson decided to try to find him. First he went to Richard’s home. When Richard’s mother answered the door, she said he was working at a gas station.
Bishop Monson drove to the gas station. He looked everywhere but could not find Richard. Then he felt inspired to look down in the grease pit at the side of the building. As he looked down into the dark pit, he saw a pair of shining eyes looking back at him and heard Richard say, “You found me, Bishop! I’ll come up.”
Bishop Monson told Richard how much the priests quorum missed him and needed him. Richard nodded and promised to come to church the next Sunday. He came to church the next week and the weeks after that. Then he and his family moved away.
One evening Bishop Monson got a phone call from the bishop in Richard’s new ward. He asked Bishop Monson to give a talk in the ward before Richard left to serve a mission. Richard served as a valiant missionary, and he also later served as a bishop. He said that the turning point in his life was when Bishop Monson found him in a grease pit that Sunday morning and encouraged him to come back to church.

Many times the most beautiful examples of obedience and service are given by ordinary people who live close to us. Sister Ana Rita de Jesus, an elderly widow, lived in Anápolis, Brazil. She could not read or write. The missionaries would go to her home every week to read the scriptures to her. She was loving and kind. Every Sunday she would ask the missionaries to help her fill out a tithing slip. Sometimes her tithing and offerings were not more than a few cents, but she knew the law and wanted to obey it. After paying her tithing, she would walk into the room where the sacrament meeting was held in the rented house used as a chapel and would place a flower on the pulpit.
In doing so, she served her brothers and sisters, bringing beauty to the place where we worshiped the Lord. That sister, in a very simple way, taught us obedience and service through her faith. She knew obeying the commandments is the best preparation to serve. President Thomas S. Monson advised us to “obey the commandments” and “serve with love” (Ensign, May 1998, 47). Sister Ana Rita did so throughout her life.

A few years ago my father had a serious operation and spent several weeks in the hospital. This was during the winter months. My sons and I had made several trips down to my parents’ home to keep the snow cleared from the driveway and walk, but one day while I was working and my sons were in school, we had a very heavy snowfall. My mother was trying to clear the walks when a young university student came by, laid his books down, gently took the shovel from her, and cleared all the walks and driveway. As my mother thanked him he said, “That’s all right. I am away from home going to school. Maybe someone else’s son will be there to help my mother.”
As my mother told me how this young man had helped her, I remembered the words from my childhood: “God bless you, my son. I pray that some young man will be there to help your mother.”
And he was.

I turned the corner of the street just in time to see the bus pulling up to my bus stop. I ran as fast as I could, running between pedestrians, and leaped onto the bus just as it began pulling away.
Buses in Manchester, England, were always crowded at this time of night, but I didn’t mind. As an American student at the Royal Northern College of Music, I didn’t have very much free time to meet the British people, so I looked forward to my crowded bus rides as opportunities to make new friends.
I finally found a seat next to a lovely young woman who was deeply involved in reading a pamphlet. I sat down quietly, trying not to disturb her, but I couldn’t help looking at what he was reading. It was a religious pamphlet that had the title, “Believe in Christ and Be Saved!” Further down the page I read the words, “We are saved by faith alone.” I looked up to find the young woman smiling at me curiously. “Oh, excuse me,” I said, “but I couldn’t help noticing your pamphlet. Are you interested in religion?”
“Oh, no!” she said in a strong, contented voice. “I’m already saved! I’m just reading this for fun. And what about you?” she asked. “Are you saved?”
I had never been asked the question in that way before, and I stammered with my answer, “Well, I’m … I’m … I’m trying! I am a Christian.”
“Hallelujah! Praise the Lord!” she shouted in a loud voice, making several of the other passengers on the bus turn around to look at us. Then, a little more softly, she asked, “What is your church?”
“The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I’m a Mormon.”
“Oh, no!” she whispered, leaning away from me with fear in her eyes. “Oh, I know about Mormons! You’re not Christian.”
“Yes, we are!” I said.
“No,” she said again. “No! I remember two Mormons came to my home once and told me that they had a message for me about Jesus Christ. I let them in to talk about Christ, and all we talked about was some man named Joseph Smith. I don’t believe in him, and they didn’t tell me about Christ. Your church isn’t Christian.”
She was so sure of her opinion that I didn’t know what to say in return. But then I heard myself talking about Joseph Smith and explaining why he was so important to the restoration of the true gospel. I told her about continuing revelation and bore my testimony of a living prophet on the earth today.
She listened politely for some time, then apologized as she stood up, “I’m sorry, but this is where I get off. It’s been nice talking to you, but I still say Mormons aren’t Christian.” With that, she got off the bus and left me staring after her.
I worried all the way home, and for the rest of the evening I couldn’t stop thinking of the young woman and her incorrect belief that Latter-day Saints didn’t believe in Christ. What could I say, if I ever met her again, to convince her that I did have a testimony of Christ and that I believed that I belonged to his church?
I turned to my scriptures, hoping to find some kind of answer or at least some comfort. I picked up my Book of Mormon, and in 2 Nephi I began to read the beautiful and plain words testifying of the Savior.
“And we talk of Christ, we rejoice in Christ, we preach of Christ, we prophesy of Christ, and we write according to our prophecies, that our children may know to what source they may look for a remission of their sins” (2 Ne. 25:26).
Since I had been studying in England, I had told many people on my bus about the Church. I had talked about Utah and Brigham Young University, about pioneers and prophets, about families, about developing talents and storing food. I had talked about Joseph Smith and the restoration of the gospel, and about missions and the scriptures. But had I ever “talked of Christ”?
In my prayers that night I gave sincere thanks for Jesus Christ, the reason this gospel and church are true, and the source we can look to for a remission of our sins. I also prayed that I would see again the young lady I had talked with on the bus, so that I could tell her about the most important part of my testimony, my belief in Christ.
I did see her again, the very next day on the same bus. She seemed happy to see me, and we chatted about the weather and my music classes. As we got closer to her stop, I turned to her nervously and said, “I forgot to tell you something about my church yesterday.”
I began to talk of Christ. The words were not eloquent or powerful, but I bore my testimony of Jesus Christ as our Savior and as the head of our church. “My church teaches its members many things,” I said. “Sometimes we get so caught up in these wonderful truths that we forget the most important truth we have, that Jesus is our Savior and is at the center of our church. I’m sorry I didn’t talk about him sooner.”
I talked about the scripture in 2 Nephi [2 Ne. 25:26] and told her that I knew the Book of Mormon was another testament of Christ.
The bus had stopped and people were pushing their way off. Without looking at me, the young woman got up and joined them. But as she got off the bus, she looked up at my window and called, “Thank you!”
I never saw her again. I don’t think she ran home to call the elders and ask to be baptized. But she did leave that bus knowing that I believed in Jesus Christ and that I knew The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is his Church and worships him.
How grateful I am for the powerful words of Nephi that reminded me of what it is we always ought to be teaching our brothers and sisters. In talking about the many wonderful blessings of our church, I hope I never again miss the opportunity to show, through words and actions, that at the center of our belief is Christ.

I served as president of the Fiji Suva Mission. One day on the island of Kiribati I was walking with two elders when a man came up to us. He was drunk. I wanted to chase him off, but he saw my name tag and called me by name. “President Tefan, I would like you and your missionaries to come to dinner at my home.”
I thought, “Uh-oh, maybe he doesn’t know what he’s doing.” I turned to the elders and asked, “How do you feel? Would you like to accept the invitation?” They said that they would like to go. I felt impressed to accept his offer.
The following night we all had a nice Chinese dinner—chicken, fish, other meats, and noodles. The missionaries were happy because it was a change from their daily menu of fish and rice. At the end of the dinner, I thanked the man and said, “Now I have a gift I would like to offer you. Would you like these missionaries to teach you the gospel of Jesus Christ?”
He said he wasn’t interested but the missionaries could teach his wife and 18-year-old son. Three months later the 18-year-old son was baptized. One year later the wife was baptized, and her husband started attending church. He asked me for a blessing to help him stop smoking and drinking, and he was able to quit. The last time I visited that family, the son had been admitted to Brigham Young University–Hawaii on a full-tuition scholarship and had also received a mission call to Hong Kong.
When I think back on my experience with that family, I’m glad that I didn’t chase the “drunk man” away but instead followed the prompting of the Spirit to accept the dinner invitation, open my mouth, and ask him to hear the gospel.

One day in my P.E. class, a boy and a girl began saying the Lord’s name in vain. I told them I didn’t like them saying it, and that our church teaches us not to. For the rest of the day, they teased me about it and said it even more. When I got home, I prayed and asked Heavenly Father that they would not continue to say it and tease me. They haven’t teased me about it again! I’m thankful Heavenly Father answered my prayer. I’m thankful I can be a good example even though the other students were making fun of me.

On December 4, 1986, two American missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints knocked on the door of my father’s house. Although Father let the missionaries visit regularly, he was never interested in the message. A few months later he divorced Mother and remarried.

When Father informed the missionaries of the sad news of our broken family, he also told them not to come back.

The missionaries left a copy of the Book of Mormon with the address of the nearest church written on the inside cover and said, “We will always be your friends. If there is anything we can do for your family, come to this address, and you will find us there.”

Saying good-bye to the missionaries that evening was difficult, for I had felt something precious in their message.

Stepmother moved in. She and Father became cruel, life became hard, and I became a cynical teenager.

One night, when I could take their horrible treatment no longer, I dashed out the door in fear and hid in the rice fields, lonely, depressed, and hopeless. I wanted to run away, but I had nowhere to go.

Suddenly I remembered what the elders had said during their last visit. “First thing tomorrow, I am going back to find my friends!” I told myself, feeling a sense of inner peace for the first time in years.

Early the next morning I hopped on my bike and went downtown to the church, but the elders who had visited my family a couple of years before had returned home. Just when I was about to give up, two friendly ladies with the familiar black name tags on their coats approached me and introduced themselves.

A month after I met the sister missionaries, I was baptized, in November 1988, the first convert in my family.

Sue Ann wants to share the gospel with as many people as she can. Recently a friend of hers, Elouise Meyers, finished the missionary discussions and was baptized. Sue Ann explained, “I had an appointment with my bishop and decided to take a buddy with me. I took Elouise. I knew she didn’t know much about the Church. While we were waiting for the bishop, the missionaries walked by. I asked them if they were teaching anyone that night. They answered, ‘No.’ ‘Well,’ I said. ‘Why don’t you teach my friend?’ They set up an appointment.”

This story happened in South Korea.
Jayne took one last bite of her noodles. Mmmm. Delicious!
“Let’s play Yut Nori!” Uncle Ji-Ho said.
It was that time of year again! Her family was celebrating Chuseok, Korean Thanksgiving. Today Jayne’s family had gathered to eat lots of food and play Yut Nori together. Yut Nori was Jayne’s favorite game.
Everyone sat in a circle on the floor. Jayne looked around. What team did she want to be on? She scooted over to sit next to Uncle Ji-Ho. “I want to be on your team!” she said. “We’re going to be the big winners!”
Uncle Ji-Ho laughed. “With you on our team, we sure have a good chance!”
Jayne’s mom set the game board in the middle of the circle. Jayne helped her set out the pieces. They passed the four sticks to the team that would go first.
Jayne’s cousin Ana took the first turn. She threw the sticks into the air. The way the sticks landed showed how many spaces that team could move on the game board. All four sticks were facing down, which meant that Ana got a Yut! She got to move her team’s piece forward four spaces and got an extra turn.
But Ana was not on Jayne’s team.
Jayne folded her arms and frowned. “I was hoping she wouldn’t have a good throw,” she whispered to Uncle Ji-Ho.
“Cheer up!” Uncle Ji-Ho said. “The game just started.” He gave her an encouraging smile.
After Ana’s second turn, Jayne’s team threw the sticks. But they didn’t get to move their pieces as far as Ana’s team did.
With every turn, Jayne’s family members cheered and laughed. Jayne watched the game pieces move around the board. Everyone was having fun.
Everyone but Jayne. Her team was still losing.
Finally it was Jayne’s turn. She threw the sticks in the air, but only one landed face down. Her team’s piece moved forward only one space.
Jayne folded her arms. “I quit!” she yelled. “I wanted us to win.”
Suddenly, everyone was quiet. When she looked up, her family was staring at her. They seemed surprised that she was so angry.
Jayne’s face felt hot. She felt bad that she wasn’t happy for her family. She didn’t usually get so mad. She stood up to leave the circle.
Uncle Ji-Ho put a hand out. “You don’t have to leave,” he said. “Winning isn’t everything. Just try to have fun.”
“OK.” Jayne sat back down. She wanted to have fun like everyone else. She took a deep breath and watched her cousin Ben toss the sticks.
“Nice turn, Ben!” Uncle Ji-Ho said. He sounded happy.
Jayne looked at Uncle Ji-Ho with wide eyes. He was cheering for the other team! Maybe that was why he was having so much fun.
As the next turn began, Jayne decided to cheer for everyone on both teams. Uncle Ji-Ho was right. Winning wasn’t everything. Jesus could help her be happy for her family members even if she lost.
When it was Ana’s turn again, Jayne smiled at her. “Good luck! You’ve got this.”
From across the circle, Ana smiled back. Jayne felt warm inside. She was having more fun already!

Several months ago, when my wife and I were visiting another country for various Church assignments, I woke up early one morning and looked blearily outside our hotel window. Down below on the busy street, I saw that a roadblock had been set up with a policeman stationed nearby to turn cars around as they reached the barrier. At first, only a few cars traveled along the road and were turned back. But as time went by and traffic increased, queues of cars began to build up.

From the window above, I watched as the policeman seemed to take satisfaction in his power to block the flow of traffic and turn people away. In fact, he seemed to develop a spring in his step, as if he might start doing a little jig, as each car approached the barrier. If a driver got frustrated about the roadblock, the policeman did not appear helpful or sympathetic. He just shook his head repeatedly and pointed in the opposite direction.

My friends, my fellow disciples on the road of mortal life, our Father’s beautiful plan, even His “fabulous” plan, is designed to bring you home, not to keep you out. No one has built a roadblock and stationed someone there to turn you around and send you away. In fact, it is the exact opposite. God is in relentless pursuit of you. He “wants all of His children to choose to return to Him,” and He employs every possible measure to bring you back.

Our loving Father oversaw the Creation of this very earth for the express purpose of providing an opportunity for you and for me to have the stretching and refining experiences of mortality, the chance to use our God-given moral agency to choose Him, to learn and grow, to make mistakes, to repent, to love God and our neighbour, and to one day return home to Him.

He sent His precious Beloved Son to this fallen world to live the full range of the human experience, to provide an example for the rest of His children to follow, and to atone and redeem. Christ’s great atoning gift removes every roadblock of physical and spiritual death that would separate us from our eternal home.

Everything about the Father’s plan for His beloved children is designed to bring everyone home.

What do God’s messengers, His prophets, call this plan in Restoration scripture? They call it the plan of redemption, the plan of mercy, the great plan of happiness, and the plan of salvation, which is unto all, “through the blood of mine Only Begotten.”

The intent of the Father’s great plan of happiness is your happiness, right here, right now, and in the eternities. It is not to prevent your happiness and cause you instead worry and fear.

The intent of the Father’s plan of redemption is in fact your redemption, your being rescued through the sufferings and death of Jesus Christ, freed from the captivity of sin and death. It is not to leave you as you are.

The intent of the Father’s plan of mercy is to extend mercy as you turn back to Him and honour your covenant of fidelity to Him. It is not to deny mercy and inflict pain and sorrow.

The intent of the Father’s plan of salvation is in fact your salvation in the celestial kingdom of glory as you receive “the testimony of Jesus” and offer your whole soul to Him. It is not to keep you out.

Does this mean anything goes with regard to how we live our lives? That the way we choose to use our agency doesn’t matter? That we can take or leave God’s commandments? No, of course not. Surely one of Jesus’s most consistent invitations and pleas during His mortal ministry was that we change and repent and come unto Him. Fundamentally implicit in all of His teachings to live on a higher plane of moral conduct is a call to personal progression, to transformative faith in Christ, to a mighty change of heart.

God wants for us a radical reorientation of our selfish and prideful impulses, the eviction of the natural man, for us to “go, and sin no more.”

If we believe the intent of the Father’s all-reaching plan is to save us, redeem us, extend mercy to us, and thereby bring us happiness, what is the intent of the Son through whom this great plan is brought about?

The Son tells us Himself: “For I came down from heaven, not to do mine own will, but the will of him that sent me.”

Jesus’s will is the benevolent Father’s will! He wants to make it possible for every last one of His Father’s children to receive the end goal of the plan—eternal life with Them. None is excluded from this divine potential.

If you are prone to worry that you will never measure up, or that the loving reach of Christ’s infinite Atonement mercifully covers everyone else but not you, then you misunderstand. Infinite means infinite. Infinite covers you and those you love.

Nephi explains this beautiful truth: “He doeth not anything save it be for the benefit of the world; for he loveth the world, even that he layeth down his own life that he may draw all men unto him. Wherefore, he commandeth none that they shall not partake of his salvation.”

The Saviour, the Good Shepherd, goes in search of His lost sheep until He finds them. He is “not willing that any should perish.”

“Mine arm of mercy is extended towards you, and whosoever will come, him will I receive.”

“Have ye any that are sick among you? Bring them hither. Have ye any that are lame, or blind, or halt, or maimed, or leprous, or that are withered, or that are deaf, or that are afflicted in any manner? Bring them hither and I will heal them, for I have compassion upon you.”

He did not cast away the woman with the issue of blood; He did not recoil from the leper; He did not reject the woman taken in adultery; He did not refuse the penitent—no matter their sin. And He will not refuse you or those you love when you bring to Him your broken hearts and contrite spirits. That is not His intent or His design, nor His plan, purpose, wish, or hope.

No, He does not put up roadblocks and barriers; He removes them. He does not keep you out; He welcomes you in. His entire ministry was a living declaration of this intent.

Then of course there is His atoning sacrifice itself, which is harder for us to understand, beyond our mortal capacity to comprehend. But, and this is an important “but,” we do understand, can comprehend, the holy, saving intent of His atoning sacrifice.

The veil of the temple was rent in twain when Jesus died upon the cross, symbolising that access back to the presence of the Father had been ripped wide open—to all who will turn to Him, trust Him, cast their burdens on Him, and take His yoke upon them in a covenant bond.

In other words, the Father’s plan is not about roadblocks. It never was; it never will be. Are there things we need to do, commandments to keep, aspects of our natures to change? Yes. But with His grace, those are within our reach, not beyond our grasp.

This is the good news! I am unspeakably grateful for these simple truths. The Father’s design, His plan, His purpose, His intent, His wish, and His hope are all to heal you, all to give you peace, all to bring you, and those you love, home. Of this I am a witness in the name of Jesus Christ, His Son, amen.

Some years ago Albert Peters told of the experience he and his companion had of a man being born again. One day they went to the hut of Atiati in the village of Sasina in Samoa. There they found an unshaven, unkempt, misshapen man lying on a bed. He asked them to come in and introduce themselves. He was pleased to know they were missionaries and wanted to hear their message. They presented the first discussion, bore witness to him, and then left. As they walked away, they discussed Atiati’s condition; he had had polio 22 years before that had left him without the use of his arms or legs, so how could he ever be baptized, being so completely disabled?
When they visited their new friend the next day, they were unprepared for the change in Atiati. He was bright and clean-shaven; even his bedding had been changed. “Today,” he said, “I begin to live again, because yesterday my prayers were answered and you [came] to me. … I have waited for more than twenty years for someone to come and tell me that they have the true gospel of Christ.”
For several weeks the two missionaries taught this sincere, intelligent man the principles of the gospel, and he received a strong witness of the truth and the need for baptism. He asked them to fast with him so that he would have the strength to go down into the water and be baptized. The nearest baptismal font was eight miles away. So they carried him to their car, drove him to the chapel, and set him on a bench. Their district leader opened the service by bearing a strong testimony about the sacred ordinance of baptism. Then Elder Peters and his companion picked up Atiati and carried him to the font. As they did so, Atiati said, “Please, put me down.” They hesitated, and he said again, “Put me down.”
As they stood in some confusion, Atiati smiled and exclaimed: “This is the most important event in my life. I know without a doubt in my mind that this is the only way to eternal salvation. I will not be carried to my salvation!” So they lowered Atiati to the ground. After a huge effort, he managed to pull himself up. The man who had lain 20 years without moving was now standing. Slowly, one shaky step at a time, Atiati went down the steps and into the water, where the astonished missionary took him by the hand and baptized him. He then asked to be carried from the font to the chapel, where he was confirmed a member of the Church.
Atiati continued to progress so that he gained the ability to walk only by a cane. He told Elder Peters that he knew that he would be able to walk on the morning of his baptism. He said, “Since faith can move a stubborn mountain, I had no doubt in my mind that it would mend these limbs of mine.” I believe we can say that Atiati was truly born again!

Recently I went sailing with my sailing club. My sister, Bella, was on the water with a boy, Liam. Alone, I followed in another dinghy. I soon noticed that the others were getting further and further away. The wind had grown strong, and the waves were getting bigger.
Then a gust of wind capsized my boat, and Bella and Liam’s, at the same time. The tide was going out, the wind had picked up, and now there were three sailors in the water with only one safety boat.
Liam panicked. He tangled himself in the ropes, and when freed he kept floating away from the boat. Bella had to keep rescuing him by swimming to him and dragging him back to the boat to hold on to a rope. It took a long time for them to get Liam onto the safety boat.
In the meantime, I had righted my boat, but because the waves and the wind were very strong, I could not get back in. With the tide and the wind against me, and the safety boat and the shore getting further and further away, I was all alone in the freezing cold sea. I was upset and scared.
As soon as I knew I was in a dangerous situation, and that no one was able to help me, I prayed. I said to Heavenly Father, “I feel cold and scared, and I’m all alone, and the safety boat is saving Liam and Bella so it can’t get to me. Please send someone else to help me.”
When I finished my prayer, a fishing boat pulled up next to me. It stayed with me and my boat and made sure I was safe until the safety boat was able to collect me and my boat a little while later.
Although Heavenly Father planned for us to have the right people around us to help us progress towards exaltation, sometimes it doesn’t go to plan. Sometimes the people we should be able to rely on are not there. Sometimes they are busy helping others, sometimes they don’t know we need rescuing.
However, God always knows, and just like the safety boat was not there for me, a stranger was sent to my aid instead. Sometimes in life, we also need to make sure we can reach out and help others to safety.

When Goethe wrote his Faust, I believe he was inspired to utter some truths about the method of attack by the enemy of our souls. You recall that the man Faust, an old man, was anxious to be made a youth again. He prayed for such a transformation. But the thing he sought for was unlawful, and the Lord had no answer for him. But he persisted in his prayers, and when we persist, not willing to say “Father, thy will, not mine, be done,” it is quite possible that the devil may answer us, as he did Faust. And so the devil said: “I will do this thing for you. I will make you a youth, and when you are a youth you will want a maiden.” And a vision of the beautiful Marguerite was shown. “But if I do this for you I want you to sign a contract that when you are done with this body your spirit belongs to me.”

It is not bodies, it is immortal spirits that the devil wants. And he tries to capture them through the body, for the body can enslave the spirit, but the spirit can keep the body a servant and be its master.

So the contract is entered into. Then as Faust is made a young man he remembers the promise of the virgin, the maiden, and the two go in search of her. They find her as she enters the church. Suddenly Faust rushes forward to seize her, but the devil holds him back and says: “Not so fast, not that way.” Here is a truth. The devil cannot capture any man or woman that way. He cannot suddenly sweep them off their feet and bind them as his slaves against their wills. The power is given to every man and woman that lives to speak as Christ did: “Get thee hence, Satan;” and he will leave you as quickly as he left the Master. He cannot capture a single soul unless we are willing to go. He is limited. He must win men and women.

So with Marguerite. He must win her. They study her and find her weakness. She is a chaste, virtuous, wonderful girl, yet she has a weakness. It is vanity. So they play upon that weak link. Jewels are placed in the garden, and with them the mirror. She discovers these things. Vanity prompts her to put the jewels on and suggest she look in the mirror and see how beautiful she is. At the psychological moment the tempter appears and offers them as a gift from her would-be lover. She is prompted to keep them.

The lovers spend the afternoon together, and the mother’s voice is heard calling Marguerite to come in from the garden, but she is loath to leave her new-found lover. Again at the psychological moment the tempter, the devil, appears, placing a pill in the hand of Faust with the assurance that if this is placed in the mother’s evening drink the mother will soon be asleep and the lovers will be undisturbed. As I have listened to the sad stories of more than one girl who has stolen away from her mother’s influence and come to sorrow and distress, I wonder why the warning is not sufficient to give every girl the assurance that the safest place in the world for her is as close to her mother as she can get.

The mother takes the potion and goes to sleep. The lovers spend the night together. Early morning brings the brother Valentino upon the scene, and he finds his mother—dead for it is the sleep of death—and a stranger in the house with his sister Marguerite. A quarrel follows, and a duel is fought in which Valentino, the brother, is slain. Now Marguerite comes to an awakening sense of her full situation and the consequences of her own act. She has slain her mother, brought the death of her brother, and—worse than her own death—she has lost her virtue. She is next seen weeping and tearing her hair, and the devil comes laughing upon the scene. He has captured another soul. Strongly fortified as she was, she had one weakness, and through that the enemy entered her citadel and she fell.

When 14-year-old Ken Welty of Centerville, Utah, learned that people in Africa needed food desperately, he decided to raise money for seeds to send to Africa.
First, Ken handed out fliers explaining what he was doing and which seeds needed to be purchased. After checking with seed companies about growing requirements, Ken assembled and sent seed packets for tomatoes, cucumbers, green beans, corn, and other foods to contacts in Mali and Botswana.
The project was a real eye-opener for Ken. “My mom and dad have jobs, and they bring home the food for us to eat,” Ken explains. “It was weird to think that there are people over in Africa who are a lot older than me, but because of my service project I am helping them feed themselves.”