Gospel Story Finder

Last August, the night before our family was going out of town for a week, I thought I'd mow the lawn really quickly so it wouldn't be too unruly when we got home. I hardly ever mow the lawn (I was just trying to be helpful), and in my haste (and inexperience), I hit a sprinkler head, and it broke off of its pipe. Nobody else was home, and this needed to be fixed before we left early the next morning. I tried everything I knew, but I only made it worse. When it was almost dark, our son Tanner got home, and he and I worked on it together. Several times we thought we had fixed it, but then we'd test it, and it would sprout into a geyser and fall apart. After about the fifth attempt, covered with water and mud, we said a prayer, and the sprinkler worked.
Now you could say that it would have worked even if we hadn't prayed, but what I know is that good habits have led me to do things that give me otherwise overlooked opportunities to trust Heavenly Father so He can see if I will trust Him.

Joseph Millett, an early member of the Church, recalled in his journal this beautiful illustration of simple yet profound faith and love:
“One of my children came in, said that Brother Newton Hall’s folks were out of bread. Had none that day. I put … our flour in sack to send up to Brother Hall’s. Just then Brother Hall came in. Says I, ‘Brother Hall, how are you [fixed] for flour.’ ‘Brother Millett, we have none.’ ‘Well, Brother Hall, there is some in that sack. I have divided [it] and was going to send it to you. Your children told mine that you were out.’ Brother Hall began to cry. Said he had tried others. Could not get any. Went to the cedars and prayed to the Lord and the Lord told him to go to Joseph Millett. ‘Well, Brother Hall, you needn’t bring this back if the Lord sent you for it. You don’t owe me for it.’ You can’t tell how good it made me feel to know that the Lord knew that there was such a person as Joseph Millett.”

When Elder Gardner H. Russell was nine years old, he helped build a chapel in his hometown. “Hand-cut stones had been purchased from an old building,” Elder Russell recalled, “and they still had mortar on them. I remember sitting outside in the cold weather, chipping the mortar off the stones so that we could reuse them. After the church was dedicated, I sometimes looked at the walls and thought that I could see some of the stones that I had worked on, and I felt a certain pride of ownership.”

“I have a surprise!” Ema (Mom) said when she picked Rasmus up from school. They walked together down the narrow streets lined with colorful buildings.
“Rosolje for dinner?” Rasmus guessed hopefully. They had eaten it just last week for his seventh birthday. But he could always eat more beet-and-potato salad with pickled herring!
Ema shook her head with a smile. “I met two young women on the bus this morning. Missionaries. They’re coming to visit tonight to talk about their church.”
Rasmus looked up curiously. He had never met missionaries before.
He was in his bedroom playing with his fire truck when the missionaries came. “Tere! Tere! Hello!” they greeted Ema as they walked into the apartment. They removed their heavy boots and put on the house slippers Ema kept for visitors. Ema led them to the orange couch. But Rasmus hung back by the door.
The taller woman noticed him and smiled. Her black name tag said Õde Craig (Sister Craig). “Your mother told us you just had a birthday,” she said. “We brought you something.” She held out a small card. Rasmus looked at it closely.
It was a picture of a man. He wore a white robe, and his hand was stretched out.
“Do you know who that is?” Õde Craig asked.
Rasmus didn’t know the man’s name. He had never seen this picture before. But the man looked kind and powerful. “I think he’s a king!” Rasmus said.
Both missionaries smiled. “Yes, He is! He is the King of kings! His name is Jesus Christ.” Õde Craig pulled out a book with a blue cover. “And this is a book that teaches about Him, the Mormoni Raamat. The Book of Mormon.”
He and Ema began reading the Book of Mormon every day before he went to school. During school, Rasmus and his class went on nature walks and then took a nap. After school, he and Ema often met with the missionaries. They talked with the missionaries about what they had read in the Book of Mormon. Sometimes Ema fed everyone kringel, braided cinnamon bread. On weekends he and Ema rode bikes or picnicked on the beach. Sometimes they took long walks in the forest or along their favorite river.
On one of those forest walks, Ema told him she wanted to be baptized. Rasmus grinned. The missionaries had asked Ema to pray about whether or not to get baptized. It sounded like she had gotten her answer!
“And I know just where I’m going to be baptized,” she told him with a smile. “Can you guess?”
Rasmus thought about the missionaries’ lesson on baptism. They had held up a picture showing Jesus with John the Baptist in a river. …
“The river!” he exclaimed. “Our favorite river.”
One week later, Rasmus stood on the riverbank with the missionaries and some other people from church. Ema was ready to be baptized. She went all the way under the water, just like Jesus did. When she came up, she was smiling. Rasmus wanted to remember this moment forever—the blue water, the white wildflowers in the green grass, and his mother’s smile.
“What did getting baptized feel like?” he asked later, when everyone was eating cookies the missionaries had brought.
“Wonderful,” she told him. “I wanted to stay in the river forever. I feel so new!” She hugged him tight.
“For my next birthday, I want to be baptized, just like you and Jesus,” he told her. “I want to feel new too!”

My grandfather, who died more than forty years ago, is also my hero. He taught and helped us when we were struggling with criticism and ostracism from others because we had accepted the gospel. My grandfather was a highly regarded businessman who was meek and kind. Despite his position in society, he always sidestepped praise given him. He lived a simple and humble life, despite his status and his many and obvious talents and qualities. And he taught me by example about love and devotion in marriage.

I joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in 1992 in the Netherlands. However, my husband didn’t join and wouldn’t allow our children, Alex and Petra, to be baptized (names have been changed). Even still, the three of us attended church and had regular family home evenings.
All went well for several years until Alex, then 13, announced that he was no longer willing to go to church or attend family home evening. As he got older, things continually got worse. It was difficult for me to stay close to Alex because he not only began drinking and smoking, but he also lied about his behavior. It broke my heart, and I shed many tears and offered many prayers as I pleaded with Heavenly Father to help my son.
Then one night while sitting quietly in the temple, I saw a picture in my mind. It was of a young man passing the sacrament. It seemed that the Lord was reminding me of the reality and power of His Atonement, encouraging me to love my son and to stay by his side.
However, as time progressed, life actually got rougher. After Alex’s father and I divorced, Alex got really depressed. I knew he needed help, but he didn’t want my help and wouldn’t listen if I tried to talk to him.
One night our branch president asked if he could come talk to Alex. Alex was irritated but did agree to have a conversation. After the meeting, Alex was angry with the branch president for encouraging him to serve a mission, saying, “If the branch president really was a man of God, he would know better. He would know that I’m not worthy to go—so why bother me?” That night I knew the Lord had a plan.
The plan began to take shape in an unexpected way when I received a phone call from the local police station. Alex had been arrested. My new husband and I put on our coats and in the middle of the night picked Alex up from the police station. We didn’t make a scene; actually Alex’s stepfather and I said very little.
When we got home, Alex told us what had happened when he and his friend had stolen a scooter. He was so sorry for what he had done. I saw for the first time a broken young man.
The arrest was a turning point for Alex as he began to realize the consequences of his actions and where he was headed. From that day on, so many blessings started to come our way.
The next day Alex told us that he had asked the officer to call us because he knew that we loved him. He also realized how much he had hurt us, and he appreciated that we had stayed calm.
Alex had several member friends who reached out to help him. One invited him to Church activities. Another gave him a Book of Mormon and challenged him to read it. And despite his suffering from dyslexia, I would find Alex reading it now and again.
The next blessing—if I could actually count them—was when Alex asked if we would buy him a suit since he had decided he wanted to go to church. I thought he meant just for Christmas. But to my great surprise, he continued attending even after the holidays.
The next blessing seemed almost too much for me to comprehend. Alex announced that he was going to be baptized. He didn’t need any help from me and arranged everything himself with assistance from his friends and the missionaries who were teaching him. I almost couldn’t believe my eyes when the day came, and I was able to see my son in white, making sacred covenants.
Later as he related the story of his conversion, I realized that Alex’s pain and sorrow had been difficult, but they also helped him become humble enough to bend his knees and ask for help. Alex explained: “One night when my burdens were too heavy to carry, I remembered the words of a good friend who had reminded me that I could always pray for help. That night I decided to give it a try. There was not another door open to me, and since my mom had taught me how to pray, I kneeled down and closed my eyes. As I started to plead for help, the most wonderful feeling came over me. I’ll never forget that feeling; I felt the pure love of Christ. I felt that my problems were taken away from me. My desperate feelings haven’t come back since, and I have been blessed with a testimony of Jesus Christ. My heart was changed, and I desired to follow Jesus Christ.”
After his baptism, confirmation, and ordination to the priesthood, Alex was asked to pass the sacrament—the sacred emblems of the Savior’s sacrifice. Then what I had seen in the temple so many years ago became a living reality right in front of me. I silently thanked Heavenly Father for what I was experiencing. It was a holy moment for me.
The story could end there, but fortunately it hasn’t. I have since watched as the Atonement has continued to work in the life of my son. Remember our inspired branch president? My son’s testimony has continued to grow, and the invitation of our branch president became a reality. Alex recently finished serving as a full-time missionary. He spent two years reaching out and helping others—as the Lord reached out to him.
I am grateful to be Alex’s mother, but I am even more grateful for the Atonement of Jesus Christ that works in the lives of all of us.

“This … story from my dear friend Kathryn Godderidge, Primary General Advisory Council Member, touched my heart deeply:

“‘My husband and I attended a sacrament meeting with our son and his family in Simpsonville, South Carolina. His wife had gone to church early to play the organ, and we came in a little bit late with our son and grandchildren, finding seats in the back. We quickly settled in and began listening to the organ music for the opening hymn, when we discovered that our two-year-old grandson had brought with him his favorite binoculars. He began using them to carefully search the congregation, and when we tried to help him put them away, he protested, “I need to see mama on the organ!”

“‘What a sweet expression of love and desire from a little boy for his mother!

“‘Oh, that we all would pack our own “binoculars” to not only find that which brings us joy but to also truly see each other as we gather and worship together on Sunday.’

“‘As we are preparing for sacrament meeting, are we intentionally “seeing” all the individuals in the congregation? Do we “see” our precious children, youth, and young single adults as vital participants in this great work? Do we “see” them as covenant members with a unique role to play in building the kingdom of God?

“‘I testify that as we begin to “see” and engage all members of the congregation, our Sabbath day worship will become more joyful, sacred, holy, and centered on Jesus Christ.’”
Sister Amy A. Wright, First Counselor in the Primary General Presidency, Facebook, Feb. 19, 2024, https://www.facebook.com/Primary1stCounselor.

This process is illustrated rather well in the development of the Welfare Program of the Church. This program was not revealed full blown to the prophet or even to the Brethren in the presiding councils of the Church. Rather the need for such a program became evident to these leaders. Through inspiration they selected the individuals who would be instrumental in developing the program. After a rather long prayerful period of counseling together and experimenting with various forms of a possible program, a final proposal was prepared and brought before the presiding councils of the Church. William E. Berrett has given us one account of the results. He says he was in the first meeting in which the Welfare Program was announced to the members of the Church in 1936.

President Grant related that individuals had asked him whether he had been talking to Heavenly Beings, whether the Lord had given him a vision. His answer was, “No, I have not talked to angels; I have not had a vision.” And he recounted that the word of the Lord on such matters was already given. A plan was worked out in accordance to earlier revelations . . . President Grant said that . . . he went before the Lord in prayer to ask him if the plan was acceptable, and he got the feeling from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet that the Lord was pleased. [“Teaching by the Spirit,” BYU, 27 June 1966]

Originally, our plans called for my return to teaching at a school in the western United States after completing my studies at Cornell University, in New York. But, to our surprise, the opportunity came for me to use my wildlife management training in the Arabian Gulf countries—first in Bahrain, and later in Dubai.
The ancient sport of falconry—hunting of birds and small animals with trained falcons—is still practiced on the Arabian Peninsula. In 1976, His Highness Sheikh Hamed ben Isa Al Khalifa, the Crown Prince of Bahrain, was looking for ways to combine the captive breeding of falcons with modern management techniques. He learned of my doctoral work on falcons, and that led to the job offer I received.
Bahrain is not a large oil producer, but it was there, in 1932, that oil was first discovered in Arabia. Rulers of the country have wisely used the resulting wealth to improve the lives of their people. Still, the contrasts are dramatic. Stopped at a traffic light one day on my way to a church meeting, I inspected the luxurious automobile just ahead of me while a cart donkey scratched his head on the back of my car.
The Bahrainis are well-grounded in modern life, yet the teachings of Islam play a major role in all aspects of their daily living. They are a friendly and gentle people, convinced that God is close by and aware of their needs.
Amid all that seemed different to us in Bahrain—the veiled women, open-air markets, and richness and luxury contrasting with the ancient life-style of the desert—we found the warm familiarity of fellow Latter-day Saints. With three other western families, we were part of a group of eight adults and eight children who held Church weekly meetings. Services are held on Friday in Muslim countries because that day is their Sabbath; Sunday is simply the second day of a six-day work week.
The group in Bahrain was organized into a branch in 1978, with Brother Sidney MaGill, a native of New Mexico, as the first branch president. With the arrival of other Latter-day Saints, it has since grown to thirty-five members.
After more than five years in Bahrain, my wife and I felt I had accomplished all I could at the falcon breeding center I had established there. We were thinking of returning to the United States when a similar position opened up in Dubai, one of the United Arab Emirates farther down the Arabian Peninsula. My employer wished me well and told me warmly, “We will consider you a Bahraini export and send you to Dubai.”
The position at the Dubai Wildlife Research Centre, as wildlife consultant to His Highness Sheikh Mohamad bin Rashid Al Maktoum, has given me the professional opportunity to do research on a much broader range of animals.
Unlike Bahrain, Dubai has only recently grown rich on oil, and in amounts of money difficult to imagine. Streets that were not even paved in 1968 are now lined with palaces and bordered with miles of shrubs and flowers grown with water distilled from the sea.
But the old ways are not forgotten; the sheikhs are still in touch with the people. Several times a week, my employer hosts a luncheon for anywhere from twenty to fifty men who have need to see him. We sit on the floor and eat with our hands. Some of the guests are bedouin herdsmen; others are merchants owning millions. All dress alike, and all are shown the same great courtesy. The sheikh’s guests may come to ask for help with their problems, to ask a favor, or simply to express their loyalty.
In 1982, when we arrived in Dubai, no Latter-day Saint services were being held. We found three Latter-day Saints there: a sister from the United States and two Filipino brethren. Sacrament meetings began in our living room. Our children used to say that for a year they didn’t go to church—church came to us!
Within eighteen months, however, new move-ins helped our branch membership grow to twenty-four; and by 1985, the small branch had grown to thirty-six. We rent space in the American school for meetings. Our branch offers the full program of the Church for our age groups, including early morning seminary.
Leaders of the Arab countries in which we have lived recognize the need of workers from other nations to worship in their own way. But proselyting was not tolerated. There are occasional converts, however—nonmember spouses from western workers’ part-member families. The waters of the Persian Gulf, which welcomed the ships of Alexander the Great and other ancient mariners, are the baptismal font for these people and for the children in our branch.
Our two oldest children, Catharine and Andrew, moved with us to Bahrain in 1976 when they were small. We have since added to our family Eric Alkhalifa, born in Bahrain, and Sarah Elisabeth, born in the United Arab Emirates.
Socially, life on this peninsula has both drawbacks and advantages for our family. Women from other cultures feel fewer restrictions in Dubai than in some other countries on the peninsula, but, true to Muslim tradition, most native-born women do not mingle freely in mixed company. While this might seem restrictive in some western societies, it is not seen so by these women. The traditional Muslim family system is strong. It works very well for them, but it also limits the opportunity for foreigners to know Arab families well.
Members of the Church generally make friends with the many other foreign families in these Arab countries. (Only a small percentage of the workers in technical jobs are natives.) The ten children who attended our son Andrew’s last birthday party, for example, were citizens of eight different nations.
There are challenges to Church members here. Because of the six-day work week, for example, those who enjoy recreational opportunities—like diving in the gulf—must decide whether to give up their pleasures on our Sabbath.
For our children (and for us), there is the challenge of affluence among their associates. Catharine was one of eighty girls chosen to attend, at no cost, a private school on the palace grounds. It was built by the crown prince, who wanted his daughters to have a western education. It is staffed by teachers from England, and it operates much like any other private school—except for the month-long field trip to Europe by private jet.
In some ways, however, members here are sheltered from many evils of the world. Leaders of these Arab countries will not accept any activity that threatens Islam or the faith of its believers. For example, drug and alcohol abuse, pornography, and immodesty are strictly controlled because they are offensive to Muslim beliefs. While laws forbidding these things may seem restrictive to some, we enjoy the freedoms they provide. We adults do not have to contend with ugly influences, and we can feel confident that our children are not coming in contact with them in their schools.
Latter-day Saints and other foreign workers living in the countries of the Arabian Peninsula find their lives affected daily by the teachings of Islam. Television and other activities are interrupted during the afternoons and evenings for the call to prayers. Public gatherings begin with readings from the Koran. This book, believed by Muslims to be revelation given to the Prophet Muhammad, is the basis for all the laws in the countries of this region and contains specific guidelines for daily life.
Hospitality is one of the fundamental principles of Islam. In social or business contacts, an Arab will express sincere concern for his guests and expect them to share his proffered coffee or tea. This courtesy has allowed me to explain the Word of Wisdom to Arab men—from the king of Saudi Arabia in his palace to camel herdsmen around their camp fires. They accept my belief without offense because it is similar to their health code, which requires abstinence from pork and alcohol. Strict Muslims also do not smoke.
Once, at the request of my employer, I accompanied him on a visit to the ruler of another Muslim country. We were part of a small group of sheikhs and government officials. We dined at the palace and were flown to the ruler’s private retreat. During one of the meals, several of the Muslims ordered wine. When I declined, someone joked about my becoming a Muslim, so I explained that I don’t drink because of my religious beliefs. Their consciences pricked, two of the men urged me to join with them. His Highness, the crown prince of Bahrain—my employer at the time—silenced them, and, turning to me, said, “Joe, don’t ever change.” I have always been thankful for my employer’s appreciation of my faith.
Church members who find themselves living as guests in a foreign culture—a small minority of the population, far from the familiar things of home—might easily feel lost and alone. But the Church is almost always there. With or without a family, it will be comforting to remember that the love of our Father in Heaven, the effectiveness of gospel principles, and the ministrations of the Holy Ghost are not limited by the size of the group at worship or by the design of its surroundings. When you strive to make a chapel of your home, the Spirit will be there.

The wee hours of the morning became my solace as I pondered the scriptures and learned about the Savior while administering Sarah’s IV medication. I studied Romans 5:8–9, which says:
“But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.
“Much more then, being now justified by his blood, we shall be saved from wrath through him.”
And then I thought of Luke 22:44: “And being in an agony he prayed more earnestly: and his sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground.”
Prayer at Gethsemane, by Del Parson
As I read those verses, the thought struck me that blood represents life and living and that Christ bled from every pore to give us life—eternal life.
A few days later, Sarah and I were in the bone marrow transplant clinic, where she would receive a red blood cell transfusion. She had been premedicated for the procedure and was peacefully sleeping in my arms. I began to think intently about Sarah and how her situation was so dire: she was getting sicker and sicker by the day. Parts of her body had quit functioning altogether. Her red blood count had fallen drastically; she had no white blood count to speak of and would also be receiving a platelet transfusion before the day was finished. She was lethargic and weaker than normal, and her appearance was paler. Without new red blood cells to revive her body, life would eventually slip away.
But gratefully, I watched as precious red blood cells slowly dripped from a tiny bag and flowed through the IV tubing directly into Sarah’s body through her central line, literally offering her new life. I observed a physical transformation as Sarah’s cheeks and hands became a beautiful pink hue again. She even seemed to be breathing a little easier. Peace filled my mind as I knew that, once again, her body would be receiving its vital nourishment through the circulation of the new red blood cells. Life would continue.
Watching this physical transformation showed me in a powerful way how vital blood is to the body. Blood brings nourishment and oxygen to all the cells in the body, making them healthy and strong and helping them perform their proper functions. Blood also cleanses the body of the impurities that build up through daily wear and tear. The white blood cells fight off dangerous infections, and the platelets heal our inner workings automatically so we don’t bleed to death.
As I observed how precious this blood was to my daughter, I was suddenly struck by how much more important the Savior’s blood is to our souls. Through His suffering in the Garden of Gethsemane, the Savior offered each of us the chance for a transfusion—a spiritual transfusion. Sarah needed physical blood for her life to continue, but everyone who comes to this earth needs the spiritual blood transfusion that can only be received through our personal acceptance of the Atonement of Jesus Christ. Only then can we be cleansed of all our impurities and of the sins we have committed and become completely whole, ready to live in the presence of our Father in Heaven.
Because our Savior loves us, He “washed us from our sins in his own blood” (Revelation 1:5), and with His blood He cleanses us from sin. But this transfusion will not be forced upon us. With our agency, each of us can choose to accept His transfusion and become clean and whole so that our spiritual life can continue, or we can reject the transfusion, giving up our life with our Heavenly Father. Repenting and turning to Christ are the only ways we can receive this transfusion. Repentance is our “central line” between us and our Savior; without it, there is no possible way for His blood to free us from our sins.
Once we have repented and truly called upon Christ for mercy (see Alma 36:18), our sins, though they “be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool” (Isaiah 1:18). How ironic that blood, which stains garments, is also offered to us as a purifier. Just as our physical bodies are purified and cleansed through our blood, our spirits are purified and cleansed through our Savior’s atoning blood. And with our garments made white, we can stand spotless before God (see Alma 13:12).
Christ’s sacrifice also answers the ends of the law for all who have a broken heart and a contrite spirit (see 2 Nephi 2:7). Think for a minute about the workings of the heart: it pumps oxygen-rich blood throughout our bodies, keeping them functioning properly and making it so all the cells can be nourished and cleansed. If a heart breaks, it cannot function properly, and life ceases to exist. But if we “come unto [our Savior] with a broken heart,” we will be saved (see 3 Nephi 12:19–20). Jesus Christ can take our broken hearts and, through the power of His Atonement, make them work perfectly. Without Christ, our broken hearts cannot function and eternal life cannot be ours, but with Him a humble and repentant heart can properly function.
After Sarah had relapsed, we were faced with the challenge of deciding whether or not we should continue on with chemotherapy treatment. As we spoke with the doctors, they urged us to use the treatment because her white blood count had escalated to the point where she could begin bleeding out if we did not. Bleeding out is when the blood vessels begin spontaneously bursting throughout the body, becoming most obvious in the eyes, mouth, and nose. We were told it can be an excruciatingly painful process
When I heard this, my mind again turned to the Savior. He experienced a similar process as He suffered for all the sins that would ever be committed. King Benjamin taught of Jesus Christ’s suffering: “Blood cometh from every pore, so great shall be his anguish for the wickedness and the abominations of his people” (Mosiah 3:7). How excruciating His pain must have been as He bled from every pore.
Christ’s pain was again on my mind as I held my daughter in her final hours. I thought of Christ’s plea: “Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me: nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done” (Luke 22:42). But it was not the will of the Father to remove the cup, and Christ accepted this and continued forward with the Atonement. The Father, being merciful, sent an “angel unto him from heaven, strengthening him” (Luke 22:43). In that moment and others, I too was given a strength to endure that was not my own. Our Father in Heaven is merciful. He knows us individually and loves us personally. He sent His Son, even Jesus Christ, to earth to atone for our sins and offer us a spiritual transfusion because He knew it was the only way for us to enter into His presence and live with Him again.
Author’s note: Although Sarah passed away in 2004, we did have about a year and a half following her bone marrow transplant to enjoy her happy and spunky disposition.

Religion was an important part of our lives in Nigeria. My husband, Okoro, and I had great faith in Jesus Christ and loved Him. After we moved to Sweden, all our time was consumed when our twins were born three months early. We lived for four months in the hospital and didn’t go to any church at that time.

Later, we wanted to go to church again, but we did not find a church that felt right for us. We wanted a church that our whole family could attend for all our lives and forever. This desire continued for two years, but we were bothered that we had gotten out of the habit of going to church and praying together as a family.

When the children were a year old, I was out during a terrible snowstorm so I could attend school and learn Swedish. I heard someone call out from behind me. When I looked back, I saw two beautiful young women. I didn’t understand what they were saying, but I did recognize the words “Jesus Christ.”

When they realized I did not speak Swedish, they asked, “Do you speak English?” When I told them I did, they said, “We want to talk to you about Jesus Christ.”

“What about Him?” I asked. “I know Him!”

They laughed and were so excited that they walked up to me. I was impressed and eager to know what they had to say. They said they were missionaries of Jesus Christ, and I agreed to meet with them again and talk more about Jesus. As I left, I felt happy. When I looked back at them, they were just standing there radiating the same joy I was feeling.

When she found the Church, Sister Okoro-Omaka “shed beautiful tears because I was so happy to be coming back to my Savior.”
When I came home from school, I said to my husband, “Sweetheart, guess what. I have found the church where we are going to be members!” I was shivering, I was so excited. I did not know where all these feelings were coming from, but I was happy deep in my heart about meeting the missionaries.

Soon we began learning about the restored Church of Jesus Christ with the missionaries. I shed beautiful tears because I was so happy to be coming back to my Savior. I had no questions about what they taught us until we came to the Book of Mormon. I had a hard time believing anything about it. The missionaries, however, asked me to read the Book of Mormon and pray about it. I prayed sincerely every day for weeks to know if it was really the word of God, but I never read it.

After several weeks without an answer from God, I boarded a train for a trip to Stockholm. On the way, I pulled out the Book of Mormon and began to read.

I read the introduction and the Testimony of Three Witnesses and Eight Witnesses, and I read about Joseph Smith. I was reading it and reading it and reading it. By the time I got to Stockholm, I was crying, shivering, and covered with goosebumps. I felt overwhelmed with the Spirit of God. I knew from personal revelation who Joseph Smith truly was—that he was a prophet and a servant of God. I knew that the Lord had restored the gospel of Jesus Christ to the earth through him.

I then believed all that the missionaries had told me. Once I had read the Book of Mormon for myself, I knew it was true. I told the missionaries I wanted to be baptized. My husband brought our whole family to show their support for me.

After my baptism, we started praying together again as a family, and I began teaching them about what I was learning. Eventually, Okoro asked to meet with the missionaries again. He embraced their teachings, read the Book of Mormon, and prayed about it. He received the same answer I had, and he also asked to be baptized. At last, our whole family was united in our forever Church.

For Brother and Sister Okoro-Omaka, reading the Book of Mormon was key to their conversion.

Marriage affects how people live financially, socially, emotionally, and even spiritually.
Amy Byerly of Walpole, Massachusetts, was concerned about the lifestyle changes marriage brings. Talking with Bart, her soon-to-be husband, about her concerns lightened the burden. She also turned to the scriptures, and in Mosiah 2:41, she read: “I would desire that ye should consider on the blessed and happy state of those that keep the commandments of God. For behold, they are blessed in all things, both temporal and spiritual; and if they hold out faithful to the end they are received into heaven, that thereby they may dwell with God in a state of never-ending happiness. O remember, remember that these things are true; for the Lord God hath spoken it.”
“This scripture puts things into perspective for me,” Sister Byerly says. “Even if my lifestyle changed, I could still be happy if I was faithful. Also, it taught me that having an eternal family was much more important than all the fun things I did while I was single.”
Sister Byerly believed that Heavenly Father would help her in her marriage. “Knowing that God approved of our marriage helped me deal with any fears I had,” she says. “I knew I could be happy despite a lifestyle change.”

World leaders are recognizing the need to learn more about the Church as they become aware of the presence of a growing religion in their area or notice the good works the Church is doing through its humanitarian arm. Two leaders recently made separate visits to Salt Lake City to tour Temple Square and learn more about the Church.
Chile’s First Lady
Chile’s first lady, Luisa Durán de Lagos, visited Salt Lake City on September 21, 2004, to personally thank the Church for the many humanitarian efforts taking place in her country.
Mrs. Durán de Lagos met and talked with the First Presidency before touring the Humanitarian Center. Elder Jeffrey R. Holland of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles gave the tour, ending it with the presentation of a gift: 600 computers donated by Brigham Young University to be used by schoolchildren in Chile.
“I came here because I wanted to personally thank the Church for what it has given us,” she said. “We have received from the [Church] assistance with ‘Chile Solidario,’ a program designed to help Chile’s poorest families arise from poverty.”

I was out of school for about a year and worked for a small firm in Eagle, Idaho. We were doing an addition and remodel to a ward meetinghouse in New Plymouth, Idaho, a small town near the border of Oregon. The building was originally built in the late 50s, and at that time, they built the churches with donated labor. Whenever we would do additions and remodels to those meetinghouses, there seemed to always be problems. On this particular project, we were going to add classrooms and then do a remodel to the rest of the building, including the chapel. The rostrum area, the platform where the bishopric and the choir sits, was going to be completely redesigned. We got the construction documents completed and the general contractor began the project.

About a month into the project, the contractor gave us a call and indicated there was a problem when they removed the rostrum platform. They found that there was dry rot in the structure below and wanted to know what they should do about it. I told him, I would leave right away and I would be there in about forty-five minutes or so.

Now dry rot is wood decay caused by certain species of fungus, which will digest parts of the wood, which give wood fiber, strength, and stiffness. If the infected wood is exposed to moisture and there is no cross ventilation then the fungus can spread. An outbreak of dry rot, within a building, is extremely serious and infestation is difficult to eradicate, requiring complete removal and replacement of the infected structure.

I arrived on site, as a new overconfident architect, thinking I was going to solve this situation and wave my hand and give direction that would amaze. When I entered the chapel, no one was around. I looked about the room and could not see any visible problem and to me the floor surface looked fine. As I moved forward and approached the rostrum area, the floor where I stepped gave way and I fell through the floor. Luckily the building had a shallow crawl space so I was not hurt. As I got my wits about myself and was trying to pull myself up, I looked around and was surrounded by the superintendent and a few subcontractors, who were trying to hold back the laughter because of the scene. Let me tell you--I had a piece of humble pie. They helped me up and proceeded to show me the damage to the structure.

I discovered that the areas that were infected by the dry rot were the area underneath the rostrum and about five feet up the back wall. It was amazing to me that the back wall had not collapsed, and I discovered that the only material holding it up was the non-structural face brick. It was a miracle that the wall had held up this long and did not collapse. I grabbed one of the 2x6's, on the back wall, and it crumbled in my hand. We had to remove and replace the infected plywood subfloor, the 2x12 floor structure, and the 2x6 back wall structure. The cost of replacement was substantial.

The family looked confused. My missionary companion and I had been teaching them the first discussion, and they didn’t seem to understand about the Holy Ghost. We talked about the Spirit and about how they could know the Book of Mormon was true.

As I related this experience to this family we were teaching, the Spirit touched me and I knew the truth of what I was saying. Almost trembling, I testified, “The Lord knows me personally! He was watching over me that day, and He continues to watch over me today. He is aware of my individual needs. He knows you personally too, and He will answer your prayers as you pray with faith.”

I went home that evening, grateful for the knowledge I had gained. By relating my experience, I was blessed to understand the Lord’s love for me. Truly a testimony is found in the bearing of it.

Monika Bohler, 15, raised her hand. “I have a friend I usually meet on the way to school,” she said, and then told how her friend had asked her one day what she thought of religion. “I belong to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints,” Monika replied, and told her the story of Joseph Smith.
“She wanted to know how both God and Christ could appear to Joseph Smith, because she had always been taught that the Father and the Son are one person,” Monika continued. “I explained our belief about the Trinity, but she wanted scriptural references. That night I went home and got out my seminary material, and the next day I had a list of scriptures to give to her. Now we talk about religious ideas all the time. I’m glad I had studied the New Testament so that I could talk to my friend.”

After our missions, we both had a feeling that we would meet our eternal companions in Provo, Utah. One Sunday, I met with my Bishop and he pronounced a blessing on my head, that when I met my eternal companion, our children would dance around us. My father had given me a blessing a couple months before I met Jr. He said that the way you will meet your eternal companion would be like none other before. I would like to share with you the story about how we met. The week I met my husband was most likely the toughest week I had ever had while attending school. Things just seemed to be falling apart for me. I felt like a failure. My friend, Opapo Fonoimoana, who had served with my husband in Jamaica, that his mission companion was coming to visit. However, I was not very interested. One morning I was getting ready for work as I put on my make up, I could hear these words loud and clear, “Opapo’s mission companion is so handsome,” “Opapo’s mission companion is very wonderful.” I looked at the mirror, and asked, “who is Opapo’s mission companion?” The voice kept on, “Opapo’s mission companion is so sweet. Opapo’s mission companion is so beautiful!” I didn’t understand what I was hearing but I could not deny what I heard. Later that afternoon, I walked in my home to meet Opapo, on the ground there sat his mission companion. He got up to shake my hand, the moment our hands touched, and there was such an electric shock that raced through my hand to the rest of my body that I took my hand back quickly. I had never felt anything like it before. That week, my husband had a strong prompting to ask me out, I said yes, and the rest is history.

We were blessed with children immediately. One day, when my oldest was about three, he said to me when I was cooking dinner in the kitchen, “Mommy your handsome prince is home! Mommy your wonderful husband is home.” At that moment, my memory recalled the voices I heard that morning when I was putting on my make-up. Our Heavenly Father allowed me, with tender mercy, to identify the voice that had brought my husband and I together. It was our oldest son Sefanaia. Bishop’s blessing came to my mind, “When you meet your eternal companion, your children will dance around you.”

A young lad stood at the pulpit in Sunday School trying to give an assigned talk, but he could not get the words out. His giant of a father walked from the congregation to stand beside his son, put his arm around him, and said, “I know Larry has prepared his talk and that he’ll be able to give it. He is a little frightened, so I’ll just speak to you for a moment and then I know he’ll be ready.” The father stood by his boy with his arm around him, and in a moment the lad gave his talk. And many wept.

That August, Apostle Luke S. Johnson ordained 16-year-old Erastus to be an elder. The new elder then became junior companion to Apostle William E. McLellin during a trip into New Hampshire. At Littleton they parted, and Erastus headed West, preaching on the way and performing his first baptism—Zadock Parker. That fall he “baptized many people and organized a branch of the Church in the towns of Lyman and Littleton, in New Hampshire.”

Marine preserves—areas where purple sea anemone, baby crabs, and starfish live undisturbed by human collectors—are scattered along the California coastline. Here people wandering among the rocks may observe, but not touch, the sea life moving in the rising and falling tide.
On other beaches, though, people mingle more freely with the sea life. Here, sea creatures cast ashore by storms are fair game for beachcombers who stuff them into brightly colored pails of seawater and transport them inland and away from their natural element.
Naturalist Loren Eiseley had an experience on one of these beaches that has become a well-known parable on the preservation of life. Very early one morning, Eiseley encountered a solitary man searching the shoreline after a storm.
“Do you collect?” asked Eiseley. “Only like this,” replied the man, casting a struggling starfish far out to sea, “and only for the living.”
“The stars … throw well,” he observed. “One can help them.” (The Star Thrower, New York: Harcourt, Brace, Jovanovich, p. 172.)
This man, whom Eiseley called the “star thrower”, was no ordinary collector. His sole interest was to save the starfish from anxious tourists, to protect their right to swim again in the ocean.