Gospel Story Finder

[One young man] and another Aaronic Priesthood holder were assigned to administer the sacrament to a man who was homebound and very sick. They arrived at his home not realizing that recent medical treatments prevented him from eating any food—even a piece of the sacrament bread. After blessing the bread, the young man presented the sacrament to the frail man. He took a piece of the blessed bread, waited a moment, and then held it against his lips. The young man said when he saw this faithful brother express his reverence for the sacrament, he felt as though he were watching him kiss the feet of the Savior. He could tell that he loved Him.
The significance of the sacrament was impressed upon that young man in an unforgettable way that day. You will have sacred experiences, just as this young man did.

“I was a young boy during the depression. Our home was situated not far from the railroad tracks where the vagrants would ‘ride the rails.’ The men came in twos or threes to our back door for something to eat. I can never remember my mother turning those men away hungry. She would fix them a sandwich, give them a glass of milk, and send them on their way with a word of cheer, having a feeling in her heart that she had done some good.
“I was fortunate when I was a boy to have an outstanding Sunday School teacher. When she talked about the apostle Paul, we could almost hear him preaching. She made every character in the scriptures come alive. She was an unusually kind woman and let us boys know that she expected us to be gentlemen.
“In our class we had collected some money to use for a big party. One Sunday morning our teacher came to class and told us that one of our classmates would be absent—his mother had passed away. We were all very unhappy. The subject of the lesson that morning was that it is better to give than to receive. After she had presented the lesson, she talked about the hard times ahead for the absent boy’s family. ‘How would you students like to follow the Lord’s teachings?” she asked. ‘How would you feel about taking our party fund and giving it to this boy’s family as an expression of love?”
“The decision was unanimous. I remember that I was the treasurer of the class, and the teacher said to the boy’s father, ‘Brother Devenport, the class would like to make an expression of their feelings.’ Then she called on me to make an expression, and afterward I handed our party fund to him. I think that was one of the first times I saw a grown man weep. This simple act of kindness welded our class together. We learned through our own experience that it truly is more blessed to give than to receive.
“I would encourage the youth of the world to seek out opportunities to help other people, to do good to all, and to share what they have with others. It is the pathway to happiness. As we willingly share, we’ll strengthen our testimonies. But if we attempt to keep all good things to ourselves, we’ll lose everything.”

Lindy burst through the front door. “Mom, I’m home! No more school for the rest of the week, and tomorrow is Thanksgiving!”

Mom smiled and gave her a big hug. That’s when Lindy noticed Dad and her older sisters sitting in the family room.

“Hi, Dad,” Lindy said. “Are you home early because of the holiday?”

“No, sweetheart. Come here and give me a hug, and then I’ll tell you all my news.” Dad smiled calmly. “I lost my job today. I know that’s a little scary, but I’ve already started to work on finding a new one. It may take a while, so we have to be patient and trust in the Lord.”

Lindy’s oldest sister Rebekah started to cry. “Will we have to move?” she asked through her tears.

“I’m going to try to find a new job here first,” Dad said.

“But even if we do end up having to move, remember the last time we moved?” Mom said. “We found great friends and activities here that we didn’t have before. The most important thing is that we go where the Lord wants us to go.”

“That’s right,” Dad said. “We’ll pray for the Lord to guide us, and we can talk about our choices as a family. I think right now the best thing we can do is have a family prayer.”

During the prayer Lindy felt a little better, but she was still scared. She thought a lot about her school, friends, neighborhood, and home.

The next day family and friends came over for Thanksgiving dinner. Most of the adults told Dad they would talk to people at work and see if there were jobs available. Lindy felt good to know there were so many people who cared about them and wanted to help, but she was still worried.

After their guests left, Lindy asked Dad if she could talk to him for a minute. “Are we going to have to leave our house since we don’t have any more money to pay for it?”

“Oh, Lindy,” Dad said, “you don’t have to worry about that. We have money put aside so we can pay for our house until I get a new job.”

A few days later, Lindy went into the room where Mom was ironing clothes. “Mom, you know how we’ve been eating leftovers every night? Well, I was just wondering if that was because … well, because Dad’s not working now.”

“You mean you wonder if we can’t go to the store to buy new food?”

Lindy nodded, looking at the ground.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Mom said, “we have money for food. We just have lots of leftovers from Thanksgiving dinner. Don’t worry—we will have money for food until Dad gets a new job.”

That night both Mom and Dad came to tuck Lindy into bed. “Lindy, how are you feeling now? Are you still worried?” Mom asked.

“I don’t know. My stomach feels sort of sick. It just feels strange.”

“Lindy, we don’t want you to worry about anything,” Dad said. “Do you remember our food storage in the basement?”

Lindy nodded.

“We have that because we obeyed the prophet when he told us to be prepared. And he didn’t just tell us to prepare by storing food—he told us to get a good education, put money into savings, and prepare spiritually to feel the Lord’s direction in our lives. We have tried hard to do all those things, so we’re prepared for a time like this.”

Lindy looked up at her dad. “Did the prophet really say all those things?”

Mom nodded. “When the prophet warned us to put our houses in order, Dad and I decided to follow his counsel. We don’t spend all the money Dad gets paid. We save some of the money every month for an emergency like this. We haven’t borrowed money to buy things we can’t afford.”

“So here’s our emergency, and we’re ready because we obeyed the prophet,” Dad said. He smiled. “Now we need to listen to the Spirit and trust in the Lord to keep guiding us.”

For the first time, Lindy started to relax. Her stomach didn’t feel strange anymore. She remembered the family home evening they’d had a few weeks before Thanksgiving, when they had talked about things they were grateful for. Even though a sad thing had happened since then, she was even more grateful!

“Dad and Mom, I didn’t really think about how the prophet helps us until now,” she said. “I’m glad you listened to him. I’m not going to worry anymore.”

Dad tucked Lindy’s blankets around her, and Mom sang to her while she snuggled into her bed. She fell asleep hoping it would snow so she and her sisters could build a snowman.

When I spoke on this subject once before, I received a number of letters. I get letters all the time. I read from one that I had on that occasion:
“For more than 20 years I have endured a lack of sensitivity of members of the Church with respect to my single state. As I have pursued my profession, I have moved to various areas of the country. In seeking participation in local Church activities, I have encountered a variety of levels of welcome and acceptance, ranging from a warm, friendly welcome to a very cool indifference and an air of discomfort that seems to stem from their lack of knowing what to do with me. In one ward I felt strongly that the members would prefer that I not attend. This continued for nearly six months, and I finally sensed a passive acceptance, as though I were a nuisance that wouldn’t go away, and so must be tolerated.”
If that be the case, it is a tragedy. It represents a betrayal of the spirit that should be found in all of our congregations. Men and women such as you have great talents and can add immeasurably to the quality of the teaching and leadership in almost any ward in the Church. It is a general Church responsibility to remind bishops and other Church officers to give each member a warm welcome and to make use of his or her talents.
For when all is said and done, we should not be classified as married or single but as members of the Church, each worthy of the same attention, the same care, the same opportunities to be of service.

When I was a freshman at BYU, I was so looking forward to receiving a call and beginning to serve in my campus ward. During our first week in the ward, we filled out surveys indicating our talents, interests, and experience. About a week later I had an appointment with the bishop. After the introductory exchange he said, “Sister Nyland, we’d like you to serve as the Relief Society chorister.” I nearly fell off the chair. I said, “But Bishop, I don’t know anything about music.” He was quite surprised at that and said, “Well, let’s look at the cards.” All of the data from our surveys had been entered onto punch cards (something many of you are too young to remember), and he stuck a skinny little knitting needle into the hole for music ability. Mine was the only card that came out of the stack as having no musical skill. He thought that was interesting, as did I, but he asked me if I’d like to try anyway. Well, I’d been raised to accept callings, so I told him that I would accept this call and ask my roommate to help me. Susan and I went to the basement of our dorm, and she sat at the piano, plunking out the melody with one hand and showing me how to lead it with the other. We practiced and practiced each Saturday. I did learn the pattern for 4/4 and 3/4 time, but I never could quite get the pattern to match the beat of the music. Mercifully, after about a month I was released, and my roommate was called to lead the music!

Several years ago while my wife and I were serving in Venezuela, our youngest son left the comfort of his high school to join with us. He did not complain, but it was obvious that he struggled as he went to this country where everything was new to him; but in an amazing turn of events, the experience went from one of trial to a huge blessing in his life. He accomplished this by changing his own attitude and developing a determination to succeed.

One of the pivotal experiences of his life happened when he was 15 years old. His brother, Joe, wanted to serve a mission, but his father—a good man who had lost interest in Church activity—felt Joe should instead attend medical school. Joe and Quentin respected their father highly, so they sequestered themselves to consider his counsel.
They talked well into the night, balancing the pros and cons of each option. The bottom line, they decided, was this: If the Church is just another good institution, Joe could help people better by going to medical school. However, if the Savior truly lived, if Joseph Smith truly was a prophet, if the Church he organized under God’s direction truly is the Church of Jesus Christ, if the Book of Mormon is true, then Joe’s obligation was clear. The next morning Joe approached his father with that reasoning and bore his testimony. He left for his mission soon after, with his father’s support and his mother’s joyful blessing.
That conversation profoundly affected young Quentin. He had always had a testimony of the Savior. However, Joseph Smith, the Church, the Book of Mormon—these were another matter to a 15-year-old. He believed, but he had yet to receive a spiritual witness that confirmed their certain reality.
After he and Joe parted that night, Quentin went to his room, knelt in prayer, and asked for the same witness his brother had, a witness he desired with all his heart. And it came in a way so powerful that any doubts he had were swept away forever.

It wasn’t enough for Manila, Philippines, institute students to just learn the word—they wanted to go out and share it. So they put together a musical show, emphasizing the scriptures and education, that was designed to help parents and youth apply gospel principles in their lives.
The students gave up their summer free time to rehearse and perform, but said it was worth it to see the audience reaction—some were touched to tears. The group toured Metro Manila and the nearby provinces with their variety show. “All our efforts have been paid off by the wonderful feelings we’ve had,” said one participant.

Two years ago Elder Richard G. Scott of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles and I had the opportunity to go on a canoe trip into the Quetico wilderness area in Ontario, Canada, portaging from lake to lake. As we reached the halfway point across one of the larger lakes, the weather turned very bad, and the once tranquil water turned angry and perilous, tossing our little canoe to and fro.

We had a decision to make. Do we try to reach our planned destination, or do we head for the nearest island and wait for the storm to pass? The answer seems obvious now, but at the time it was not an easy decision to make. By carrying on, we might arrive at our planned campsite. By delaying our journey, we would arrive very late and may have to travel in the dark. As we pondered the options, we had the impression to head to the nearest island quickly. As we did so, a much worse-than-anticipated storm rolled by us. Had we elected to continue canoeing, we would have put our lives in great peril.

Here in mortality we are called upon to make serious decisions, the outcome of which can have a lasting effect upon our spiritual future. I encourage you to always be worthy to seek for the Spirit to help you always choose the right.

In the Book of Mormon, Nephi tells us: “Then are ye in this strait and narrow path which leads to eternal life; yea, ye have entered in by the gate; ye have done according to the commandments of the Father and the Son; and ye have received the Holy Ghost” (2 Ne. 31:18).

As our family concluded the 225-mile bicycle journey, we learned that no matter how difficult things can become on this road we call life, great happiness is waiting for those who keep the commandments and endure to the end.

Young men of the Aaronic Priesthood, you have a responsibility to remain firmly focused on your eternal destination. Yes, life’s journeys can have many ups and downs. Yes, there will be days when you will feel the going is tough. But as you stay on the right path, the reward at the end of life’s journey is well worth the moments of adversity you experience along the way.

Again, from the For the Strength of Youth booklet, the First Presidency writes: “May you keep your minds and bodies clean from the sins of the world so you can do the great work that lies before you. We pray that you will be worthy to carry on the responsibilities of building the kingdom of God and preparing the world for the Second Coming of the Savior” (page 3).

My young friends, please know the importance of being wise by following the counsel of our prophets, and happiness will be yours throughout life’s journey.

Of this I so testify in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

A similar incident shows the gospel’s comforting power:

Many years ago our family was at an outing with some very dear friends. One of their children had an accident and drowned. It was a dark and fearsome day. The following morning Sister Porter and I drove to their home. As we approached the front door, a gentleman came out of the house who was a close business associate of mine. He was very emotional and all he could bring himself to say was: “Death does not hurt Mormon mothers like it does other people”.

Of course the pain to any mother is beyond description. This mother understood the plan–what is more, she had lived her life according to the covenants–therefore an assurance had come through the Holy Spirit that her child was bound to her forever. There came the sweet conviction borne by that Holy Spirit that she and her child will meet again. My business friend saw and felt what he could not understand.

Jenelle heard her best friend, Michelle, ask Rebecca to her birthday party on Sunday. Michelle’s parents had planned a swimming party to celebrate her eleventh birthday.
Michelle had already invited Jenelle, but Jenelle had told Michelle that she’d have to let her know. Jenelle knew that she wouldn’t be going to the party, but she didn’t want to say that in front of the other girls.
The two girls had been friends since they were six years old. But after Jenelle’s family had become members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints nine months ago, things had changed between them. Jenelle wanted Michelle to understand that becoming a Latter-day Saint didn’t change what Jenelle felt for her friend, but Michelle was having a hard time accepting that.
After school, Jenelle trudged home more discouraged than ever because Michelle had announced that everyone else she’d invited to her party would come. At least Mom will be home, Jenelle thought. She’ll know what I can do. I always feel better after talking things over with her.
At home, she quickly found her mother in the kitchen. “What am I going to do?” she asked once she’d told her mother the whole story.
Mom put her arm around Jenelle’s shoulders. “You have to decide what’s more important to you—going to your friend’s party or obeying the commandments.”
Jenelle sighed. She knew what she should do. That didn’t make it any easier, though. She didn’t want to hurt her friend’s feelings. And more than anything, she wanted to go to the party. Almost more than anything, she thought. She couldn’t break one of the commandments, especially when the prophet had spoken about the importance of keeping the Sabbath Day holy in a general conference talk.
She knew what she had to do. After school the next day, she hurried home and wrapped the present she’d made for Michelle, then walked to her friend’s house.
“I made you something special for your birthday. I’m sorry I can’t come to your birthday party. It’s because it’s on a Sunday.”
Michelle tore open the paper and held up a birdhouse. “This is great! You made this all by yourself?”
Jenelle nodded. “At Primary activity day.” She told Michelle about Primary and the activity days for girls her age.
Michelle showed Jenelle the bathing suit she had bought for the party.
Jenelle looked at the pretty aqua suit and smiled. She had looked at the same one last week while shopping with her mother.
“So what’s the big deal about your going swimming on Sunday?” Michelle asked after putting the suit away. “We’ll be going in the afternoon, after your church lets out.”
“The prophet said that we need to keep the Sabbath Day holy.”
“What does that mean?” Michelle asked.
“It means we don’t shop on Sunday or go swimming or to ball games—stuff like that.”
“What do you do?”
“We go to church, spend time with our families, listen to music. Read the scriptures.” She smiled, remembering last Sunday. “Sometimes my mom and dad take a nap.”
Michelle frowned. “Who is this prophet? Why do you have to do what he says?”
“He’s the President of the Church.”
“So he’s like the boss?”
Jenelle smiled again. She’d never heard the prophet described as a boss, but she supposed it made sense to people who weren’t members of the Church.
“What makes the prophet so special?” Michelle asked.
“He teaches us things Heavenly Father wants us to know.”
“You mean he talks with God?”
“Yes,” Jenelle answered firmly. She knew that a lot of people had a hard time understanding that.
“Does he have a name?”
“Right now the prophet is Gordon B. Hinckley.”
“Do you have to do everything he says?”
“We don’t have to. We choose to,” Jenelle said, hoping Michelle understood.
“Could you come to my birthday party next year if it was on Saturday?”
Jenelle hugged her friend. “I’m already counting the days till then!”

My last final this past semester was in an MBA economics class. For some very complicated reasons I had to take the exam a day late, with one other student. The first problem was worth thirty points. I read it once; I read it twice; I read it over and over until I realized that I had no idea how to do it. I panicked, but decided I had better finish the rest of the exam, which I did. After two hours, this economics professor returned and asked me how I was doing. I was reluctant to say, obviously, but finally explained my dilemma. He was very understanding; he asked me some questions to see what I really knew; he gave me a hint. I went as far as I could, struggled, and panicked again. He looked at my work and suggested I do one more thing. I did and, to my surprise, the problem was solved. I felt like I owed him my life. I thanked him, and then he said, “There is no need to thank me. That exam taught you something, and, after all, that is what we’re here for—to learn.”

President Marion G. Romney was talking about the work which involved our parents. The other day we heard a story in our council meeting that I saw raise the ire of the brethren. It was all righteous ire because of the things that had happened. A father who had been very careful in his investments and in his service had saved hundreds of thousands of dollars for his sweet little wife who had helped him to gather it. But unfortunately he died first and was laid away. His wife became a little older, and somewhat senile. She was put in a rest home. The money went to the children’s bank accounts, and she went on suffering. Maybe she didn’t fully understand all the suffering that came to her; but maybe she did. With inadequate clothes and with inadequate treatment and training, the poor woman is still living in a rest home. As far as we know her children never see her.
It must be a little bit difficult to visit a mother who gave her life for her children, who spent many, many years rearing and training and saving for them. It must be very difficult for them to show their interest when she is in a position where she needs some comfort from those whom she has loved.

When Sister Pieper and I were raising our family, we wanted to teach them good nutrition. We planned nutritionally balanced meals and encouraged our children to try eating each food served. As an incentive, we created a rule that only those who took at least one bite of each food served would be able to have sweets that day. One evening at dinner, our son Chris said that he did not want to eat his peas. We encouraged him to try at least one bite and reminded him of the rule that if he did, he would be able to have ice cream for dessert. Chris said that he wanted ice cream. We reminded him that if he wanted ice cream, he would first have to take a bite of his peas. He continued to insist that he wanted ice cream but refused to eat his peas. As a result, he watched while his brothers and sisters ate ice cream for dessert, complained the rule wasn’t fair.

The next day in family scripture study we were reading Alma’s teachings to his son Corianton about laws and punishments. We read that there are always consequences when laws are broken. Suddenly, Chris blurted out, “that’s peas and ice cream.” We had a good discussion of how we have agency to choose what we will do but we cannot choose the consequences of our actions. This helped us all learn important principles and apply them in our lives.

My younger sister and I received our endowment together, just a few days before she left on her mission. I was excited to attend the temple with her, and I was ready to take the next step on the covenant path.
But that day, my emotions were everywhere. It was the end of summer. A daunting school semester loomed before me. In anticipation of moving back to college, leaving my family, and saying goodbye to my sister, I felt suddenly inconsolable.
And although the endowment ceremony was beautiful, it was a lot to take in. I understood very little and was ready to leave the moment the session ended.
My sister had a different experience. In the celestial room, she calmly and curiously asked my parents questions about the endowment and seemed to have grasped much more than I had. Meanwhile, I sat in a stupor of silence. I remember holding back tears of frustration and embarrassment that my experience was playing out so differently from hers.
I was momentarily tempted to feel bitter that I hadn’t had the experience I’d hoped for. But then I remembered two specific things that my temple preparation teachers had told me:
I would likely not understand everything that happened during my first endowment session. They told me that instead of trying to make sense of it all in the moment, I should try to focus on the peaceful feeling inside the temple.
I might leave the temple feeling spiritually tired and overwhelmed. And that was OK.
Their wise words slowed my spiraling thoughts and have stuck with me over the years. I believe the same counsel can help us as we reckon with expectations we have about other spiritual experiences, both inside and outside the temple.
I’m happy to say that I enjoy attending the temple now, and my understanding of the endowment has grown over the past few years.
Comparing my temple experience to my sister’s was discouraging for me. Because I didn’t want that first experience to get in the way of my enjoying the blessings of temple worship, I had to consciously decide to move past the differences in what my sister and I felt and understood that day.

A few nights after his baptism, a mob of white men came to the house where he was staying and called out for him. “We just want to talk to you,” they said. In their hands were rifles and shotguns.
Len stepped outside. He was a Black man in the American South, where armed mobs sometimes enforced racial segregation with violence. They could injure or kill him on the spot and may never have to answer for their crime.
Someone in the mob demanded to know why Len had joined the Latter-day Saints. It was legal for Blacks and whites to worship together in Alabama, but the state also had a strict set of segregation laws and unwritten social codes to keep the races separate in public settings. Since nearly every Latter-day Saint in Alabama was white, the mob saw Len’s baptism as a challenge to the region’s deeply rooted color line.2
“So, you went over to the waters and learned a few things,” the man continued, referring to Len’s army service. “Now you want to join the whites.”
“I was investigating the Church long before I went to war,” Len finally said. “I found it was the only true church on earth. That is why I joined it.”
“We want you to go and have your name scratched off the record,” the mob said. “If not, we will hang you up to a limb and shoot you full of holes.”
The next morning, Len attended a conference of fellow Saints in the area and told them about the mob’s threat. He knew he was taking a risk by coming to the meeting, but he was willing to die for his newfound faith.
“Brother Hope, we could not scratch your name off if we tried to,” Church members reassured him. “Your name is in Salt Lake City and also written in heaven.” Many of them offered to help Len if the mob ever came after him again.3
But the mob never returned. Len soon married a woman named Mary Pugh in 1920, and they moved to Birmingham, a large city in central Alabama. Mary’s uncle, a Baptist pastor, predicted that she would join the Church before the year was over.
Mary read the Book of Mormon and gained a testimony of its truth. It took a little longer than predicted, but after five years of marriage she decided to join the Church. On September 15, 1925, the Hopes went with two missionaries to a secluded spring near Birmingham. Mary was baptized without incident, finally becoming a Latter-day Saint, like her husband.4
“I couldn’t be anything better,” she told her uncle, “and I can see no better church.”
Mary and Len became friends with Elder Marion D. Hanks when he was serving a mission in Cincinnati, Ohio. He was one of the missionaries who went to their home to give them the sacrament.

We can bear witness with our words and with our actions. We recently had a wedding in our family—I pause to say that you should know that our families are one of the most important places following Him will lead us. This wedding has a story.
My niece, Mari—some of you may know her since she lived here with me during Fall semester—was married in March.
John, her new husband, joined the Church just over a year ago. When he came to work in Arizona, he lived with some co-workers who happened to all be returned missionaries. When President Hinckley asked the members of the Church to read the Book of Mormon, his roommates obeyed and because they were all reading the Book of Mormon, John decided to read it, too. Then he called up the missionaries and asked them to teach him.
In our family, we call him President Hinckley's convert, but he was also directly influenced by the example of his roommates and the spirit of the Book of Mormon.
John and Mari were sealed in the Mesa, Arizona Temple.
At their sealing were two missionaries, one of whom had taught John the gospel. John had asked him to serve as his witness at the wedding. With permission, he came to the temple to perform this service for the investigator he taught and baptized—on the very last day of his mission!
What a wonderful day it was! To what a beautiful place following Him had led our family—to the temple in company with family and friends and those two missionaries.

Because sacred music opens our hearts to the influence of the Holy Ghost, it is one of the means by which our Father in Heaven can bless and strengthen us. A sister who had struggled with serious health problems for many years was in constant pain. A few years ago, she underwent some prolonged and painful medical tests. Afterward, she was asked how she was able to withstand the tests. “I sang in my head every Primary song I could remember,” she replied. “The pain did not go away, but I was given strength to endure.”

I grew up in Panguitch, Utah, a small town of 1,500 people. I was a big fish in a little pond. When I graduated from high school, I received a scholarship to attend Brigham Young University. When I got there, I quickly discovered that I was a little fish in a huge pond, and I became discouraged. I thought, “I want to get out of here.” I started to go home on weekends. I attended church at home—not on campus. I didn’t keep my grades at a level at which I ought to have kept them. I didn’t get acquainted with people. By the end of the year, I said, “I’m not going to return. This is not for me.”

I went home that summer. About mid-August I discovered that I wanted to return to school. So I did. This time I immediately joined a social fraternity and a service organization. I moved into the dormitory. I started attending church on campus rather than going home on weekends. My grades improved. I began to realize that life on campus was a good life and that I was happy to be there.

Later I attended law school. My first year was difficult because I was studying a different discipline than what I had studied as an undergraduate, and my grades, again, were not as good as they should have been. The second year, I got a part-time job in a law firm while I was going to school. My grades went up. At the end of my second year, I married my wife, Joy. Even with my additional responsibilities, everything was going well. My grades became better than they had ever been.

The last experience I’d like to share came when I passed the bar exam. A salty old trial lawyer approached me and said, “Bob, you can’t be a successful, effective trial lawyer and an active member of the LDS Church at the same time.” I considered others who were successful in their law practices and active in the Church, and I determined to be active in the Church. My decision didn’t affect my success as a trial lawyer. In fact, it enhanced it because I had balance in my life. I was trying to do what the Lord had asked me to do, and He gave me additional strength, understanding, and help.

The most unique answer you have to give is your testimony about an issue. When you know a thing, say, “I know,” not necessarily, “I bear you my testimony,” though that has its place. And never say, “I know,” unless you do. When you speak the truth, the Holy Ghost will confirm your words to those who are pure in heart. Then they will feel the truth as well as hear it. This is such a sweet, lifting, convincing experience. Once, on our mission, we were teaching a wonderful, young family. We were giving the lesson that explains the mission of the Savior. I always loved to give that lesson because the Spirit was usually strong in verifying our testimonies.

The young father asked at the beginning, “How can we know that what you’re telling us is true? It all sounds so good, but how can we be sure?” We explained, as best we could, how the witness of the Holy Ghost feels—a burning in the bosom, a peaceful, right feeling; an ‘aha’ experience, like “I-seem-to-have-known-that-all-along.” Then we proceeded to teach of the Savior’s mission and its application in our lives.

When it came my turn to tell them how I felt about Jesus, the Spirit was strong and unmistakable. I could see that they felt it, too. I realized then, and have known ever since, that such a witness is essential to bring complete understanding. No amount of logical argument can equal that beautiful moment of recognition that the Spirit alone can bring.