Gospel Story Finder

A young adolescent came to see me one day saying that he was having trouble communicating with his dad. In fact, he said, they never spoke but what they nearly came to blows. He went on to say that he thought his father was often behaving quite childishly. I was struck by the general level of maturity displayed by this 16-year-old. I vividly recall my reply to him, because when I finished one sentence, he looked at me and said, “I’ll do it.” His clipped response was in reply to this question: “Why don’t you become your father’s father and treat him the way you’d like him to treat you?”

I recall the first time I went to the temple as a twelve-year old with my mutual group in 1961 to do baptisms for the dead. I had just been made a deacon. I knew little about the temple prior to this experience and was apprehensive. However, I knew my father and mother had been married there as had both sets of my grandparents. I loved them and knew that they would not want me to go if it was not in keeping with God’s wishes. As I entered the temple that winter day, I recall the feeling that came over me. It was like a warm blanket wrapping around me. I immediately felt at home in the House of the Lord.

Before I was baptized, I struggled with certain parts of the Book of Mormon as I read it for the first time. Almost every day I sat down for a few minutes to discuss the gospel with Frank, my Latter-day Saint co-worker. I asked Frank tough questions about the Book of Mormon, and he always answered in a practical way that helped me at the time.
When I finished reading the Book of Mormon, I tried to pray about it. I did not get a burning testimony, yet I felt that it contained truth. Although I wasn’t sure it was historical, I believed that it was an important Christian document. I concluded that the Book of Mormon was inspired.
As I looked at the Church and its members, I found a blending of spirituality and gospel application in daily life that reached out and touched other lives—including mine. I felt that Mormonism was New Testament Christianity in action. Thus, I was excited at the possibility that I might have discovered a church that was the best example of true Christian living on earth. This led to my decision to ask Heavenly Father, in humble prayer, a simple question: “Should I join this church?”
I remember that as I knelt in the darkness in my living room, I poured out my heart to the Lord and told him of my search, my struggles, and my desire to do his will. I was ready to act on whatever answer I received. After my prayer, I reached for my Bible. As I searched its pages, I felt an unmistakable directive to my soul: “Yes, you should be baptized!” I wept for joy. Finally, I knew what I should do.

Many of you have participated in treks to experience and appreciate the dramatic rescue of the Willie and Martin handcart companies. I first became aware of this rescue when I was a teenager. My mother gave me a book written by Orson F. Whitney, who would later be an Apostle. Elder Whitney’s book acquainted me with the heroic effort directed by Brigham Young to rescue the handcart companies. They had been overtaken by winter storms on the high plains of Wyoming. Some had died and many others were on the verge of death. Brigham Young became aware of their plight, and at the October 1856 general conference he instructed the Saints to drop everything and rescue those stranded on the plains.
The response was dramatic. Elder Whitney reported, “Brave men by their heroism—for it was at the peril of their own lives that they thus braved the wintry storms on the plains—immortalized themselves, and won the undying gratitude of hundreds who were undoubtedly saved by their timely action from perishing.”
One reason my mother had given me the book was Elder Whitney had made special mention of my great-grandfather David Patten Kimball, who had participated in the rescue when he was 17 years old. All the rescuers battled deep snow and freezing temperatures during much of the rescue of the handcart companies. At great personal sacrifice, David and his associates helped carry many of the pioneers across the freezing, ice-filled Sweetwater.
This true account greatly impressed me. I wanted to prove my devotion to the Lord through some dramatic act. However, in a visit with my grandfather, he explained that when President Brigham Young sent his father, David, and the other young men on their rescue mission, President Young instructed them to do everything they possibly could to save the handcart companies, even at the peril of their own lives. Their acts of bravery were specifically to “follow the prophet Brigham Young” and by so doing express their faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. My grandfather told me that consistent, faithful dedication to the counsel of a prophet is the real lesson I should learn from my great-grandfather’s service. As heroic as it was for David and his associates to help rescue the pioneers, it is also valiant today to follow the counsel of our prophet.
An often-told account from the Old Testament illustrates this principle. Naaman, a prominent leader in Syria, was afflicted with leprosy. He became aware that the prophet Elisha in Israel might be able to heal him. Elisha sent word by a messenger that Naaman should wash himself in the river Jordan seven times. Initially, Naaman was upset with this counsel. However, his servants said, “If the prophet had bid thee do some great thing, wouldest thou not have done it?” Then Naaman followed the counsel of the prophet Elisha, and he was made clean.
Like Naaman, you young priesthood holders might aspire to “do some great thing” or participate in something dramatic like the handcart rescue. However, your resolve should be to follow the counsel of the prophet. The First Presidency has reaffirmed its commitment to increasing the worthiness of young people who are recommended for missionary service. Keeping yourselves free from the sins of the world and meeting the high standards for missionary service should be one goal. Preparing yourselves to proclaim the gospel and rescue some of Heavenly Father’s children spiritually would be both significant and heroic. You can meet this challenge.

It was the Sunday before Christmas. As soon as I got up that morning, I had the feeling it was not going to be a good day. To begin with, my hairbrush was missing. I suspected my three-year-old brother, Jeffy, had taken it, and sure enough, I found it in his toy box. “Mom,” I complained, “I’m getting sick and tired of Jeffy getting into my things!”
Mom was busy giving the baby a bath, and she acted as if she hadn’t even heard me. “Amy,” she said, “we’re going to need to change our plans for tonight’s family Christmas program. Daddy just called from church, and that new family, the Hansens, are still living in a motel. He’d like to invite them for dinner and to spend the evening with us. There’s nothing less like the Sabbath than the place they are staying.”
“But Mom, you can’t do that!” I complained. “You know I’ve planned this for two months, and it’s just for our family. All the parts are taken.
“Besides,” I went on, getting louder and louder, “they have a lot of little children who would probably mess up the whole house.” Then I started to cry.
Mother wrapped the baby in a towel and turned to face me. “Amy, I had no idea that it meant this much to you. Please don’t be so upset. I’ll just tell Dad when we get to church, and he can tell the Hansens that it won’t work out.”
All during sacrament meeting I watched the three Hansen children—two-, three-, and four-year-old boys—climbing all over the benches and squirming across their parents’ laps. Brother and Sister Hansen looked pretty tired by the time they’d taken each boy out about five times. It’s just as well, I thought to myself. I can’t even imagine what four little boys would do to my bedroom!
I felt relieved all the way to Primary. On the way down the hall, I noticed that it had started snowing outside. It was going to be a perfect family night.
When I got to class, Sister Martin, my Merrie Miss teacher, wanted to know what we thought it might have been like to be strangers in a strange town, like Mary and Joseph were when they went to Bethlehem. All of us had an answer to that question. Even Mandi Perkins, who hardly ever says anything, said, “I bet they felt lonely.”
Then Sister Martin asked us why we thought the innkeeper hadn’t let this poor, lonely couple stay at his house. We really had to think about that for a while. The innkeeper had always been one of the unimportant characters in the Christmas story. I’d never thought about him having feelings.
“Well,” I suggested, “he probably felt busy with all his other company.”
Jenny Peterson thought the innkeeper might have been thinking that this couple, who were soon going to have a baby, would be too much trouble. That’s when I started to feel a little uncomfortable.
“He probably had things planned the way he wanted them, and here came some people to mess up his plans,” my best friend, Rachel, added. Suddenly this wasn’t a Christmas story that happened two thousand years ago. This was something that was happening today.
Mandi Perkins added the final blow—“The innkeeper missed the whole idea, didn’t he? The two most important guests in the world came to his place, and he wouldn’t let them in.”
“Do you suppose, girls,” said Sister Martin, “That we ever act like the innkeeper? That maybe we become a little selfish and miss helping someone? Open your Bibles and let’s read Matthew 25:40 [Matt. 25:40]. ‘And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.’”
By that time my eyes were so filled with tears that the words seemed to be swimming across the page. Here were the Hansens without a place to live, and I was acting like the innkeeper, not wanting them to bother me. I knew how I would act if the Hansens were Mary and Joseph and the Baby Jesus, and I knew that Heavenly Father would want me to treat them the same way.
Luckily Sister Martin didn’t ask me to give the prayer, because I was having a hard time swallowing. Afterward I hurried out of the room as quickly as I could and headed down the hall to where I saw my parents. I heard my dad saying to the Hansens, “We’re awfully sorry, but our daughter—”
I didn’t even think. I rushed up and blurted out, “There’s room in the inn!” and then I blushed deep red.
Dad saw my red eyes and must have guessed what had happened because he just continued: “As I was saying,”—he put his arm around me—“our daughter has planned a very special Christmas program for tonight, and I think she wants to warn you that you’ll be having a part in it!”

Mother couldn’t help noticing the serious, thoughtful look on Eric’s face as they drove home from church. “How was Primary today, Eric?”
“Fine.”
“What did you learn today?” Mother asked.
“We talked about choosing the right in our class, and Sharing Time was about temples.”
“I can’t think of anything more special to talk about than temples,” Mother cheerfully replied. But she noticed that the faraway look was still in Eric’s eyes as they pulled into the driveway. “After you change your clothes, would you please help me set the table for dinner?” she asked.
As they were setting the table, Eric asked, “You and Dad were married in the temple, weren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“So that means I’m sealed to you for eternity?”
“Right again,” Mother replied.
“I won’t get to go inside the temple until I’m grown up, will I?”
Mother reminded Eric that his brother, Nathan, who was twelve and a deacon, had gone to the temple the month before and had been baptized for the dead, and how he, Eric, could do that, too, when he was twelve and held the Aaronic Priesthood. She also told him that when he was nineteen and ordained an elder, he could go through the temple for his own endowments before leaving on his mission.
Eric smiled at Mother, “I’m really looking forward to doing both of those things, but it’s not the same as what Joey did. When Sister Jones asked today in Sharing Time if anyone had a special experience to tell about the temple, Joey told about the missionaries teaching his family and about their baptism. He said that a year after they were baptized, they went to the temple as a family and were sealed together. He told about how beautiful the temple is inside and about how special it was to be dressed all in white and kneel down by the altar with his mom and dad and brothers and sisters.
“Mom, that sounds so exciting! I wish I had a story about the temple that I could share.”
Mother’s eyes sparkled. “You do, Eric. I’ll tell you all about it after dinner.”
Mother always fixed someone’s favorite dinner on Sunday, and of course the best part was dessert. Today, though, Eric was anxious for a different kind of after-dinner treat. It made his day when his older sister, Angie, and Dad volunteered to clean up the dishes so that Mother could tell him the special temple story right away.
They went to the family room, and Mother pulled her book of remembrance from a shelf and turned to a picture of a man with white hair and a white beard. She told Eric, “Welcome Chapman was my grandmother’s grandfather. While still a young man, Welcome heard rumors of a Joseph Smith, who was living in western New York, and who claimed to have a golden book that was given to him by an angel, and to have had visions and revelations. He also claimed that he had seen Jesus Christ and Heavenly Father. He said that They had instructed him to organize a new church.
Eric looked up at the picture on the wall of the Salt Lake Temple with a new feeling of reverence. He felt proud that one of his ancestors had cut stone for the beautiful temple. He also felt proud as he thought of the good and faithful life Welcome had lived.
Eric gave Mother a big hug and kiss and thanked her for telling him about Grandpa Welcome. “You know, Mom, not only do I have a temple story to share, but I also have a neat Grandpa that I didn’t know about before. I want to live my life like Grandpa Welcome did and do what Jesus wants me to do so I can go to the temple someday too.”

When I departed for active duty with the navy, a member of my ward bishopric was at the train station to bid me farewell. Just before train time, he placed in my hand a book titled Missionary Handbook. I laughed and commented, “I’m not going on a mission.” He answered, “Take it anyway. It may come in handy.”
It did. During basic training our company commander instructed us concerning how we might best pack our clothing in a large sea bag. He advised, “If you have a hard, rectangular object you can place in the bottom of the bag, your clothes will stay more firm.” I suddenly remembered just the right rectangular object—the Missionary Handbook. Thus it served for 12 weeks.
The night preceding our Christmas leave our thoughts were, as always, on home. The barracks were quiet. Suddenly I became aware that my buddy in the adjoining bunk—a Mormon boy, Leland Merrill—was moaning with pain. I asked, “What’s the matter, Merrill?”
He replied, “I’m sick. I’m really sick.”
I advised him to go to the base dispensary, but he answered knowingly that such a course would prevent him from being home for Christmas.
The hours lengthened; his groans grew louder. Then, in desperation, he whispered, “Monson, Monson, aren’t you an elder?” I acknowledged this to be so, whereupon he said, “Give me a blessing.”
I became very much aware that I had never given a blessing. I had never received such a blessing, and I had never witnessed a blessing being given. My prayer to God was a plea for help. The answer came: “Look in the bottom of the sea bag.” Thus, at 2:00 A.M. I emptied on the deck the contents of the bag. I then took to the night light that hard, rectangular object, the Missionary Handbook, and read how one blesses the sick. With about 120 curious sailors looking on, I proceeded with the blessing. Before I could stow my gear, Leland Merrill was sleeping like a child.
The next morning Merrill smilingly turned to me and said, “Monson, I’m glad you hold the priesthood.” His gladness was only surpassed by my gratitude.

“Tomorrow is very special,” Diego’s teacher said. “We’re going to have Show and Tell!”
Diego smiled. He loved Show and Tell! He couldn’t wait to show his friends something special.
After school, Diego told Mama the great news.
“What should I take?” he asked.
“Something special to you,” Mama said.
“I can bring Lobo!”
“I don’t think we can take a dog to school,” Mama said. “But there are other special treasures you can share.”
Soon Diego’s treasure hunt began! He found a stuffed monkey. Should he take him? But Diego kept looking.
He looked behind the kitchen chairs. He looked on the bookshelf. He wouldn’t stop until he found something just right.
Then he looked by his bed. He found the perfect thing!
Diego ran to show Mama. He held his treasure tight.
“Mama!” he said. “Look! I found the best thing.”
He held up a small picture for Mama to see. It was a picture of Jesus as a little boy. Diego felt good when he looked at the picture. He wanted his friends at school to feel good too.
“That is a special thing for Show and Tell,” Mama said. “What will you tell your class about Jesus?”
“That everyone can be happy,” he said. “Because Jesus loves everyone!”

South Africa, London, Reno, Argentina, Maine …
The names of countries, capitals, cities, and states swirled through Julie’s mind as she watched her geography teacher, Ms. Simmons, pass out tests at the front of the room.
Julie tapped her feet on the floor. It wasn’t that she didn’t like geography—she loved it! But she was nervous about labeling the map. What if she mixed up Spain and France again?
Tate turned around in his chair and handed back a stack of tests. Julie took one and handed the rest to her friend Allie behind her. She drummed her pencil against her lower lip and stared at the paper. It had a big map of the world on it with lots of lines for her to fill in. Where should she even start?
She glanced up. That’s when she noticed that something strange was going on.
One of the boys was hiding a smile and pointing toward the front of the room. Other kids were noticing and starting to whisper.
Julie looked where the boy was pointing. Her heart started to pound.
A map of the world was still taped on the board! Ms. Simmons had forgotten to take it down, and all the answers were right there for everyone to see!
Quickly Julie ducked her head. She didn’t want to look at the map. That would be cheating. But it was suddenly very hard to keep her eyes on her test.
Maybe I can do my best without looking, she thought. And then I’ll just double-check my answers at the end. But no, that would be cheating too.
The longer she sat there, the worse Julie felt. Even if she didn’t look at the map, she wouldn’t feel completely honest if she didn’t tell Ms. Simmons about it.
Holding her breath, Julie slowly raised her hand.
Ms. Simmons walked down the aisle to her desk.
Julie felt like the whole class was glaring at her. Her face turned bright red with embarrassment.
“Yes, Julie?” Ms. Simmons asked. “Do you need something?”
“Ms. Simmons, I think you accidentally left the map on the board,” Julie whispered.
“Oh, dear. Thank you for pointing that out, Julie.” She walked over and took it down.
Julie heard some grumbling around her, but she kept her head down and focused on her test. The tension in the room seemed to melt away. I probably wasn’t the only one who wanted to say something, she thought. It was a lot easier to finish the test without feeling tempted to look at the board.
Julie was glad that she had kept her teacher’s trust. Most important, she knew that Heavenly Father would be happy with her choice to be completely honest. Heavenly Father, she prayed silently, thank Thee for giving me the courage to speak up.

In the time before mission presidents and their wives begin their mission assignments a lot of spiritual and temporal preparation takes place. Mission presidents are generally called more than six months in advance, but occasionally that preparation time is compressed. Brent and Anne Scott of Eden, Utah, USA, were called to supervise the Canada Toronto Mission just a week before the mission presidents’ seminar and two months before they were to begin their service.
Between telling friends and family and trying to make arrangements for their home, they studied manuals, listened to CDs, and made other spiritual preparations. But they said their greatest preparation was the seminar at the MTC.
“It’s just a spiritual immersion of knowledge,” President Scott said. “To be with a group of people who have [sacrificed to serve the Lord] and to be taught by prophets, seers, and revelators … has absolutely been one of the greatest experiences of our lives.”
Over the four-day seminar in June, mission presidents and their wives were spiritually fed with messages from the First Presidency and several members of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles.
“As we listened to them, as they taught us, [we felt] that the Lord was there, that He cares, that this is His work, that these are His servants, and that we have the privilege of going out and representing our Savior,” Sister Scott said.

Inspired by this, I asked my grandchild Raquel, who had recently learned how to read, “What would you say about setting a goal to read the Book of Mormon?”
Her answer was “But, Grandpa, it’s so hard. It’s a big book.”
Then I asked her to read me a page. I took out a stopwatch and timed her. I said, “You took only three minutes, and the Spanish version of the Book of Mormon has 642 pages, so you need 1,926 minutes.”
This could have scared her even more, so I divided that number by 60 minutes and told her she would need only 32 hours to read it—less than a day and a half!
Then she said to me, “That’s so easy, Grandpa.”
In the end, Raquel, her brother, Esteban, and our other grandchildren took more time than this because this is a book which needs to be read with a spirit of prayer and meditation.

Mabuhay! I bring to you love and warm smiles from the wonderful Saints of the Philippines. This year marks 60 years since the first missionaries arrived in the islands of the Philippines. Today there are 23 missions and more than 800,000 members of the Church in 123 stakes. There are now seven temples in operation, under construction, or announced. This is truly a miracle. We are witnessing the fulfillment of the prophecy in 2 Nephi 10:21: “Great are the promises of the Lord unto them who are upon the isles of the sea.”
This miracle is also a fulfillment of the prophecy given in a prayer by then-Elder Gordon B. Hinckley in Manila in 1961. In that prayer, Elder Hinckley stated: “We invoke Thy blessings upon the people of this land, that they shall be friendly and hospitable and kind and gracious to those who shall come here, and that many, yea, Lord, we pray that there shall be [many,] many thousands who shall receive this message and be blessed thereby. Wilt Thou bless them with receptive minds and understanding hearts, and with faith to receive, and with courage to live the principles of the gospel” (dedicatory prayer at American War Memorial Cemetery, Philippines, Apr. 28, 1961).
Beyond the many, many thousands of faithful Latter-day Saints, the miracle of the gospel has brought positive changes to the country and its people. I am a living witness of this. I was six years old when my parents joined the Church in the southern island of Mindanao. At that time, there was only one mission in the entire country and no stakes. I am eternally grateful for my parents’ courage and commitment to follow the Savior. I honor them and all the pioneers of the Church in the Philippines. They paved the way for the succeeding generations to be blessed.
King Benjamin in the Book of Mormon said: “And moreover, 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” (Mosiah 2:41).
As we live and obey the principles and ordinances of the gospel, we are blessed, changed, and converted to becoming more like Jesus Christ. That was how the gospel changed and blessed the Filipino Saints, including my family. The gospel is truly the way to a happy, abundant life.
The first principle of the gospel is faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. Many Filipinos have a natural belief in God. It is easy for us to trust Jesus Christ and know that we can receive answers to our prayers.
The Obedoza family is a great example of this. Brother Obedoza was my branch president when I was a young man. Brother and Sister Obedoza’s greatest desire was to be sealed to their family in the Manila Temple. They lived in General Santos City, 1,000 miles (1,600 km) away from Manila. For the family of nine, making the journey to the temple seemed impossible. But like the merchant man who went and sold all he had to buy one pearl of great price (see Matthew 13:45–46), this couple decided to sell their house to pay for the trip. Sister Obedoza was worried because they would have no home to return to. But Brother Obedoza assured her that the Lord would provide.
They were sealed as a family for time and all eternity in the temple in 1985. In the temple they found joy incomparable—their priceless pearl. And true to Brother Obedoza’s words, the Lord did provide. On their return from Manila, kind acquaintances gave them places to stay, and they eventually acquired their own home. The Lord takes care of those who demonstrate their faith in Him.
The second principle of the gospel is repentance. Repentance is turning away from sin and turning to God for forgiveness. It is a change of mind and heart. As President Russell M. Nelson teaches, it is “doing and being a little better each day” (“We Can Do Better and Be Better,” Ensign or Liahona, May 2019, 67).
Repentance is a lot like soap. As a young chemical engineer, I worked in a soap factory in the Philippines. I learned how to make soap and the process of how it works. When you mix oils with an alkali base and add antibacterial agents, it creates a powerful substance that can eliminate bacteria and viruses. Like soap, repentance is a cleaning agent. It allows us the opportunity to get rid of our impurities and our old debris so we are worthy to be with God, as “no unclean thing can inherit the kingdom of [God]” (Alma 11:37).
Through repentance we draw upon the cleansing, sanctifying power of Jesus Christ. It is a key part of the process of conversion. This is what happened to the Anti-Nephi-Lehies in the Book of Mormon. They were Lamanites who were so completely converted that they “never did fall away” (see Alma 23:6–8). They buried their weapons of war and never took them up again. They would rather die than break that covenant. And they proved it. We know that their sacrifice brought miracles; thousands who fought against them threw down their weapons and were converted. Years later their sons, who we know as the mighty stripling warriors, were protected in battle against incredible odds!
My family and many Filipino Saints went through a similar conversion process. When we accepted the gospel of Jesus Christ and joined the Church, we changed our ways and our culture to align to the gospel. We had to let go of wrong traditions. I saw this in my father when he learned of the gospel and repented. He was a heavy smoker, but he threw his cigarettes away and never touched one again. Because of his decision to change, four generations from him have been blessed.
Repentance leads us to make and keep covenants through sacred ordinances. The first ordinance of salvation and exaltation is baptism by immersion for the remission of sins. Baptism allows us to receive the gift of the Holy Ghost and enter into a covenant with the Lord. We can renew this baptismal covenant every week as we take the sacrament. This too is a miracle!
Brothers and sisters, I invite you to bring this miracle into your life. Come unto Jesus Christ and choose to exercise your faith in Him; repent and make and keep the covenants found in the ordinances of salvation and exaltation. This will allow you to be yoked with Christ and receive the power and blessings of godliness (see Doctrine and Covenants 84:20).
I testify of the reality of Jesus Christ and that He lives and loves each one of us. I know that His gospel can bring us hope, peace, and joy, not only now, but it will also bless countless others in future generations. That is the reason for the beautiful and warm smiles of the Filipino Saints. It is the miracle of the gospel and the doctrine of Christ. I testify of this in the sacred name of Jesus Christ, amen.

For example, Yves, an 18-year-old from the Tamenga Branch, Paramaribo Suriname District, saw that when he played the keyboard at Church meetings and activities, lots of people were interested in learning how to play. So he started teaching free classes for children, teens, and adults.
The classes are taught at several branches and are open to anyone who wants to come. Most evenings when Yves teaches, there are at least a half dozen students in attendance, both Latter-day Saints and others who heard about the class from members of the branch. He also teaches flute when someone is interested. He leads the branch choir, and he directed a special presentation by the district choir. He says his musical involvement is a way of showing thanks for the missionary couple who taught him how to read notes and make music.

In another case, a young brother was reactivated as the result of the establishment of the outreach initiative to bring into activity young single adults ages 18 to 30. On the first night of activities in one of our Church buildings, this brother was the only nonmissionary attending, but within a few weeks, he had brought about 30 people to family home evening and other activities.
This brother is a Web site designer—he and a partner started their own Web design business. He currently lives with two nonmembers, both of whom work at his Web design company. He is very bold about sharing his testimony. One of his coworkers previously had studied Christian theology, and this brother referred him to the missionaries working in the young single adult program. Now his coworker is a regular attendee of the activities, and this reactivated brother assists the missionaries as they teach him by adding his testimony of the truthfulness of the gospel to theirs.

The bell rang. It was late at night. We did not expect anyone that evening, and I was wondering who it could be. I opened the door, and to my amazement, there stood the two missionaries who were teaching in the neighborhood.
The elders asked quickly if my boys were available so they could ask them a question. They were not. This was the time for them to be in bed for they were only 14 and 15 years old. The missionaries looked at each other, and the senior, obviously gathering his courage, asked me if I would talk to my boys and tell them to behave well at school because they were teaching one of the boys’ schoolmates. It was important that they, the missionaries, be able to tell their young investigator that my boys were members of the Church and then ask her if she had noticed any difference! What a terrible thing it might have been if my boys had not been behaving well! I promised the missionaries that I would forward the message and discuss the challenge with my boys.
The elders left, reassured, and as I closed the door, a scripture came flashing through my mind. I had used it often in the past years in meeting with the missionaries. “Go forth … that ye may show forth good examples unto them in me, and I will make an instrument of thee in my hands unto the salvation of many souls.” (Alma 17:11.)

Let me give you another example. In my youth I once was negligent in a way that later caused an injury to one of my brothers. It was not major, but required some stitches in his hand. I was embarrassed about it, and did not own up to my stupidity at the time, and no one ever knew about my role in the matter. Many years later, I was praying that God would reveal to me anything in my life that needed correction so that I might be found more acceptable before Him, and this incident came to my mind. Frankly, I had forgotten all about it. The Spirit whispered to me that this was an unresolved transgression that I needed to confess. I called my brother and apologized and asked for his forgiveness which he promptly and generously gave. On reflection I realized that my embarrassment and regret would have been less if I had apologized when the accident happened. Of course, it would have been even better if I had followed the prompting of the Spirit at the time and avoided the injury to my brother altogether. It was interesting and very significant to me that the Lord had not forgotten about that event of the distant past even though I had. It was a comparatively small thing, but it still needed to be handled, or I would be answering for it at the judgment bar when the opportunity for repentance had passed. I realized once again that things do not get "swept under the rug" in the eternal economy of things. Sins do not take care of themselves or simply fade away. They must be dealt with, and the wonderful thing is that because of His atoning grace they can be dealt with in a much happier and less painful manner than directly satisfying offended justice ourselves.

On 18 July 2023, I lost the most important person in my life. My mother was my strength, my pillar, but also my weakness. At that time, I was no longer attending church because I worked every day, including Sundays and public holidays, and my ward met at 8:00 a.m. I missed one time, then another … and it became a vicious cycle.
When I lost my mother, I realized I hadn’t made the most of my time with her. I began to regret not quitting my job to spend more time with her after her stroke in March 2020. She lived for three more years, but since I was often at work, I feel like I didn’t truly cherish her final moments. A sense of guilt overwhelmed me. In my mind, I was stuck in a routine: work, medical appointments, caring for my mom, sleep, on repeat. There was no room for anything else.
That’s when I understood the truth: I didn’t trust God enough. I had given more importance to my temporal needs than to my spiritual life.
Yet my mother’s passing brought me closer to the Lord again. He became my support. In Him, I found the peace and love I needed to cope with grief. I gave myself the challenge for 2024 to start attending sacrament meeting regularly again.
With my boss’s encouragement, I joined the Puurai Ward in Tahiti at the beginning of 2024. There, I was welcomed by kind and always-smiling members. It became my place of refuge every Sunday. The more I attended, the more I felt our Heavenly Father’s love grow stronger. That’s when I started to seriously rethink my priorities in life.
Of course, we need a job and income to live, but I was beginning to feel emotionally, physically, and mentally exhausted. That’s when my bishop told me about Sister Tararaina Mana, a service missionary and career coach in our ward. He said I could meet with her if I wished. I was immediately interested. I was at a turning point and no longer knew what to do.
On Sunday, 2 June 2024, I had my first coaching session with her. That first meeting was very different from what I expected. I thought it would be like school orientation where you pick a career based on your degrees, but it was so much more! For the first time, someone asked me questions that were truly about me. Beyond my academic background, my coach focused on my needs, my expectations—simply put, on me.
We started exercises that I didn’t quite understand at first. We began with my “Whys.” Thanks to that exercise, I started thinking deeply about my goals and my life vision. I rediscovered myself. I learned to listen to myself, to know myself, to trust myself. I realized I had forgotten who I was. I had let myself be consumed by temporal needs and society’s expectations.
Society imposes a model on us: studies, diploma, great job, house, car, then family. It sounds simple, tut reality is much harsher. Fear, doubt, and anxiety about basic needs had taken over my spiritual growth.
Today, the difference between who I was then and who I am now is immense. From September 2024 to April 2025, I took various small jobs to cover basic expenses while coaching gave me motivation and taught me discipline. I wanted to create professional opportunities for myself, so I registered for three different exams: prison guard, professional tourism qualification, and a SEFI (a local employment agency) training program.
Thanks to my faith in God, my perseverance, and my coaching sessions, I now hold a professional qualification in tourism. I passed the entry exams for the prison guard role, and I’m currently enrolled in “Business Creator and Manager” training, an intensive three-month program. Opportunities are opening up for me!
On a personal level, I’m now reflecting on finding my eternal companion, someone to build my eternal family with. Putting Christ at the centre of my life has become a clear and natural choice.
Coaching has had a powerful impact on my life. Without those regular sessions, I would still be lost—trapped in fear, doubt, and lack of self-confidence. Today, I know what I want. I’m ready to move forward. And I can finally say that I’m proud of myself and the path I’ve walked, even though it’s been filled with trials.
With the Lord by my side and inspiring people like my coach, I know where I’m headed. I can’t wait to have the ideal job so I can, in turn, give back and thank those who supported me when I had nothing. That truly means a lot to me.

Christopher was lucky enough to be caught in an elevator with the girl of his dreams during an earthquake that knocked out power for the city. The elevator came to a sudden stop between floors. At first they were totally in the dark, but then an emergency light came on.
“This could be the Big One,” Christopher said with a sigh, shaking his head.
“You mean the major earthquake they’re always predicting for Los Angeles?”
“No, the Second Coming,” he said.
“I don’t think so.”
“Well, that’s a clue, isn’t it? Because it’s supposed to happen when you’re not expecting it. You’re not expecting it, so this could be it.”
She shook her head and mumbled to herself in a teasing tone, “Ten million people in this town, and I get stuck in an elevator with a nut case.”
“I heard that. Go ahead, make fun of me. I don’t mind a little persecution,” Chris said, pretending to be injured.
“I wasn’t exactly persecuting you.”
“Well, you would if you could. You see, I’m a Mormon. So go ahead, say something bad about our beliefs. It doesn’t matter now.”
“Look, I hate to disappoint you, but I’m a member of the Church too.”
“You are?” he asked.
“Yeah, but I’m not like you.” She added quickly, “At least I hope I’m not. I hate to be critical, but you seem a little paranoid.”
“My mom says that too. Look, we’re probably going to be here for a while so we might as well introduce ourselves. I’m Christopher Wilson.”
“I’m Mackenzie Baxter.”
“Good to meet you.”
“What do you do when you’re not stuck in an elevator?” she asked.
“Well, I’m just finishing my first year of college. Right now I’m living with my parents.”
“Are you going on a mission?” she asked.
“What’s the use?” Anxious to change the subject, he said, “What do you do?”
“I’m a freshman at UCLA majoring in computer science,” she said. “I work in an office in this building about ten hours a week.”
“You sound busy. That’s good I guess.” He shrugged his shoulders.
“You don’t sound too convinced,” she said.
“I just can’t see going to all that trouble, that’s all. I’ve been watching the news a lot lately, and I think the Second Coming is going to happen real soon. I mean real soon.”
“How soon?” she asked.
“Well, let me put it this way—I wouldn’t bother to preregister for classes next fall.”
She laughed, but stopped when she saw he wasn’t entirely joking. “Nobody knows when the Second Coming is going to happen,” she said.
“Yeah, I know that. But it’s got to happen sometime, so why not next fall?”
“But also why not a hundred years from now?” she said.
“Yeah, I suppose. The trouble is, whenever I decide to do something with the rest of my life, I start thinking, What’s the point? The world could end tomorrow.”
“But that’s just it—it’s not going to end totally. Life is still going to go on. The way I see it, we should be the most positive of anybody about the future, because we know some of what’s going to happen. We know there’s going to be a thousand years of peace. Whatever knowledge or intelligence we get now won’t go to waste no matter what happens. So, no matter what, even if this is the Big One, you and I will still have a future.”
He smiled. “You really think you and I have a future?”
“I meant that individually.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Suddenly the power came on and the elevator began its descent to the first floor.
“I guess it wasn’t the Big One,” she said with a slight smile.
“I guess not. Look, I really enjoyed talking to you. Would you ever consider going out with me?”
She paused, then decided to be straightforward. “No, I’m sorry.” Cute or not, she couldn’t picture herself with Mr. Doom and Gloom.
“Why not?”
“Well … how can I explain this? You remind me of a stagnant pond—nothing comes in and nothing comes out.” The elevator door opened. “Sorry if I hurt your feelings.” She paused as she walked out of the elevator, then turned to say good-bye, “Good luck, okay?”
“What if I change?”
“Don’t change just for me.”
“What if I change because I decide you’re right?”
“From what I can see it’d have to be a pretty big change.”
“Well, it could happen, you know. It could happen.”
It was over two years later that Mackenzie stepped into the same elevator on her way to work. Just before the door closed, Christopher stepped on. She didn’t recognize him. Somewhere between floors, the elevator came to a sudden stop.
“This could be the Big One,” he said quietly.
She turned to him. “It’s you again! I remember you!”
“Yeah, it’s me. I just got in town last night.”
“Where have you been?”
“I served a mission. Then I spent fall semester on a ship in the Pacific studying the effects of pollution on coastal waters.”
“You look a lot happier.”
“I am. I’ve never been happier in my life. I just wanted to come back and thank you for all your help. You inspired me to get going and do something with my life.”
“You look so good,” she said. “Actually you look like a commercial for Old Spice aftershave.”
“Thanks. It’s all that sunshine and seawater.”
“No, it’s more than that. It’s your attitude about life too,” she said.
“Probably so. I’ve found something I love to do.”
“That’s the most important thing. Are we really stuck here?”
“Not really. I asked the building superintendent for a favor. All we have to do is push the Start button and he’ll bring us down.”
“I’m not in as much of a hurry this time to get away from you,” she said.
“Good, because I brought you a present.”
He handed a small box to her. She opened it up. It was a necklace with a single pearl.
“Compliments of the sea,” he said. “I found it in an oyster while I was diving off an island in the South Pacific. The moment I saw it I thought of you.”
“This must be worth a lot. Are you sure you want to give it to me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because,” he said softly, “this could be the Big One.”

For example, a friend of mine married later in life-age 39. She had dated and had several relationships that didn't work out. Some of her friends who were also older and single chose to date people who were not members and to stop living according to church standards. Perhaps they felt that since they weren't being blessed with a husband, there was no point to living the law of chastity and other church standards.

Wendy stayed faithful. She had a successful career as an interior decorator and realtor, she served as the Relief Society president in her home ward, she was an active influence in the lives of her nieces and nephews, and she revitalized the singles program in her stake and region. At age 39 she married a wonderful man and became a step-mother to three young boys. Had she not used those decades where it seemed "nothing" was happening in her life, she would not have been prepared for the immediate demands of motherhood. She said of this waiting period, "I think probably the greatest thing about getting married later was learning how to truly rely on the Lord and realizing that I am not alone in any struggle that I have. If I had married earlier I would have relied on my husband and family and maybe less on the Lord. Learning to rely on the Lord prepared me for being a mom a little bit better. Having to wait for marriage makes me appreciate what I have more. You go into marriage really wanting to make things work."

In 1980 I was a missionary serving in the Philippines Cebu Mission when I was transferred to a city called Ormoc. This district had normally shown steady growth, but for several months there had been very few baptisms.
I arrived in Ormoc on 28 October and met my new companion, Elder Alexander. The first few weeks were extremely slow for us. We had few teaching appointments and almost no referrals. In spite of working long hours and praying to find people to teach, we met with very little success. I remember praying for guidance and receiving confirmation that the Lord was preparing people for us to teach.
On 15 November Elder Alexander and I were tracting in the Barrio Isla Verde, a community on a small island in the Ormoc River. To get there we had to cross the shallow river some 23 meters on stepping-stones, which proved to be a feat in itself. However, the local residents traveled the path with ease.
While there, we met Petronilo and Andrea Ygonia and their grandson Allan Sueto Sungahid. They accepted our invitation to hold a family home evening in their home. That evening was the beginning of a beautiful relationship. After playing some games, we introduced a gospel message and bore our testimonies.
Our visits continued with this family for the next two weeks. It was exciting to watch as their countenances began to shine. By the end of November all three had committed to be baptized the following month.
I will never forget the teaching experience we had in the Ygonias’ home on 2 December. Brother Loa, the ward mission leader, came with us to a neighborhood meeting at the Ygonias’. More than 30 neighbors had accepted the Ygonias’ invitation to listen to the first discussion. As we bore testimony, the Spirit became so strong I believe everyone present was touched.
We explained that the warm, peaceful feeling each person was experiencing was the presence of the Holy Ghost. Prompted by the Spirit, we invited each person in that room to continue investigating the Church and commit to baptism. All 30 neighbors accepted the invitation.
Brother and Sister Ygonia, their grandson, and seven others were baptized in December. The work in Ormoc had begun to prosper once again, due in large part to the faith of this good family. Shortly thereafter I was transferred from Ormoc. Although I had spent only six weeks there, these weeks were some of the best of my life. Never had I worked harder for such a worthy cause. Never had I felt closer to the Lord. During the six weeks I served there, the Lord had allowed us to teach and baptize 9 souls, and another 30 individuals were preparing for baptism.