Gospel Story Finder

While visiting the country of Sierra Leone in West Africa, I participated in a meeting conducted by a stake Primary leader. Mariama led with such love, grace, and confidence that it was easy to assume she had long been a member of the Church. Mariama, however, was a fairly recent convert.
Her younger sister joined the Church and invited Mariama to attend a Church class with her. Mariama was deeply impressed by the message. The lesson was on the law of chastity. She asked to have the missionaries teach her more and soon received a testimony of the Prophet Joseph Smith. She was baptized in 2014, and her daughter was baptized last month. Imagine, the two fundamental teachings that led to Mariama’s conversion were the law of chastity and the Prophet Joseph Smith, two points the world often sees as irrelevant, outdated, or inconvenient. But Mariama testified that she was like a moth attracted to the light. She said, “When I found the gospel, I found myself.” She discovered her worth through divine principles. Her value as a daughter of God was revealed to her through the Holy Ghost.
Now let’s meet the Singh sisters from India. Renu, on the far right, the first of five sisters to join the Church, shared these thoughts:
“Before I started investigating the Church, I didn’t really feel that I was very special. I was just one of many people, and my society and culture didn’t really teach me that I had any value as an individual. When I learned the gospel and learned that I was a daughter of our Heavenly Father, it changed me. Suddenly I felt so special—God had actually created me and had created my soul and my life with value and purpose.
“Before I had the gospel in my life, I was always trying to prove to others that I was someone special. But when I learned the truth, that I am a daughter of God, I didn’t have to prove anything to anyone. I knew that I was special. … Don’t ever think that you are nothing.”
President Thomas S. Monson said it perfectly when he quoted these words: “The worth of a soul is its capacity to become as God.”
I was recently blessed to meet another young woman who understands this same truth. Her name is Taiana. I met her at Primary Children’s Hospital in Salt Lake City. Taiana was a junior in high school when she was diagnosed with cancer. She fought a brave battle for 18 months before passing away a few short weeks ago. Taiana was full of light and love. She was known for her contagious smile and her trademark “double thumbs-up.” When others asked, “Why you, Taiana?” her response was, “Why not me?” Taiana sought to become like her Savior, whom she so dearly loved. During our visits, I learned that Taiana understood her divine worth. Knowing she was a daughter of God gave her peace and courage to face her overwhelming trial in the positive way she did.

“In the early fall of 1920 Ezra spent a weekend in Logan preparatory to enrolling for winter quarter. He and a cousin were standing on a curb on Main Street when an attractive young woman drove by in a Ford convertible and waved to a friend. A few minutes later she drove by a second time and waved again. ‘Who is that?’ Ezra asked. ‘Flora Amussen,’ his cousin replied. There was something about the girl that impressed Ezra, and he responded enthusiastically, ‘When I come down here this winter, I’m going to [court] her.’ ‘Like heck you will,’ the cousin answered, adding, ‘she’s too popular for a farm boy like you.’ ‘That makes it all the more interesting,’ Ezra countered. He received the distinct impression that he would marry her.” (Ezra Taft Benson, pp. 46–47).
In the summer of 1921, at age twenty-one, Ezra received a letter from President Heber J. Grant calling him on a mission to Great Britain. July 14, 1921, he went through the Logan Temple with his parents, and two days later, he said good-bye to his parents and girlfriend and started on his way to England (see Ezra Taft Benson, p. 50). Elder Benson studied and worked hard but didn’t feel like he was doing too well and wrote in his journal that he was disgusted with his “‘frail attempt at speaking.’” But as he matured spiritually, he was invited to speak at the South Shields Branch. He was assigned to speak on the Apostasy, but instead he “‘gave a strong and impressive discourse of the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon.’” He later said, “‘I spoke with a freedom I had never experienced. Afterwards, I couldn’t recall what I had said, but several nonmembers surrounded me and said, “Tonight, we received a witness that Joseph Smith was a prophet of God, and we are ready for baptism.” It was the experience of a lifetime. … It was the first experience of that kind I’d had, where I knew that the Lord was with me’” (Ezra Taft Benson, p. 55).
President Benson married his sweetheart September 10, 1926, in the Salt Lake Temple, after they had both served missions. He has said that Sister Benson had more faith in him than he had in himself. After sixty-four years of marriage, they are an example of love and devotion to us all.

When a Hawaiian swimsuit company approached surfing pro Joy Monahan and offered to be her sponsor, the Honolulu native had some reservations. “I told them, ‘I really only wear modest one-piece suits.’” So they worked with Joy to design a swimsuit that was both modest and functional for surfing. They even named it after her, and it has since become one of the more popular swimsuits of their line.
It’s also the one Joy wore last July in Biarritz, France, where at age 23 she topped 47 international competitors to become the Women’s World Longboard Champion. The first surfer from Hawaii to win that honor, she calls the experience the fulfillment of a longtime dream.
“I just started to cry when I heard the final horn blow and I knew that I had won,” she says with a smile that stretches almost as long as her surfboard. “I’d worked so hard on that goal.”
Joy stands out not only on the waves, but also among her peers for her high standards. She says that most people know she won’t do things like smoke or drink, and they respect her decisions.
“At the awards ceremony after the championship, the girls were spraying each other with champagne. Most of the girls knew that I didn’t drink, but one girl poured a beer on my head,” she explains. “The other girls were like, ‘You can’t do that to her!’ So she came back with a water bottle and sprayed me with water instead.”
Being “the Mormon girl” and sticking to her principles isn’t always easy, Joy says. “For example, it’s hard, wherever you live, to be modest because so much of fashion is very revealing. It takes a little bit of courage to stand out and be different.”
But it’s worth it. “Whether it’s easy or it’s hard, do what you know is right. Then you can feel good about yourself.”
Joy lives up to her name. She’ll quickly tell you that the joy she feels comes from living the gospel. “It changes lives and makes them better. Along with my family, it’s my number one priority.”

I would like to say how much it is appreciated in my home when each of us takes our turn to read the New Era. When I first realized I was going to leave Primary soon and go into Young Women, it scared me a little. But then my parents subscribed to the Friend, New Era, and Ensign, and I couldn’t (and still can’t) wait to go to Young Women. When I first read the New Era, I knew Young Women was not something I should be scared of but something I should look forward to.DJ Crisanto, Fairgrounds Ward, Keizer Oregon Stake

Have you ever found yourself in a conversation where you were suddenly required to remain silent while your point of view was misconstrued and belittled? Such a thing happened to me almost 25 years ago, and the frustration of that unfinished conversation has remained to this day.
As mission president, I had been invited, with others from the Church, to meet with the mayor of one of the cities in our mission. He was cordial as he welcomed us into his office. Our conversation touched upon concerns of the day. Eventually he asked why the Church was doing missionary work in his city.
This was not unexpected. An impression had come to me some weeks before that he would ask this question and what my response should be. I replied, “The gospel of Jesus Christ provides answers and solutions to all of the world’s problems, including those confronting the good people of your city. This is why we are here.”
I fully expected the mayor would want to know more. Instead, his mood changed. Skepticism then disdain took control of his countenance. He blustered about my naive approach to challenges in the world and brought our visit to an abrupt close. No further explanation was permitted.
This morning I should like to complete that conversation. I hope the good mayor is listening because what follows is vital to a troubled world.
We are sobered by the terrible calamities of recent years. They occur with increasing frequency and intensity. Natural forces are ferocious in their scope, human assaults are merciless in their carnage, and unchecked appetites are leading to licentiousness, crime, and family decay approaching epic proportions. The tsunami in southern Asia and hurricanes in the United States, with their terrible tolls, are the most recent calamities capturing our attention. Hearts and hands from around the world reach out to those so profoundly affected. For a brief period differences yield to compassion and love.
We are indebted to those who, when buffeted by calamities, remind us of man’s dependence upon God. A widow in a refugee camp, anguishing over the brutal slaying of her sons, weeps the words, “I must not lose my faith.” Survivors, overwhelmed by Katrina’s fury, send out the plea, “Pray for us.”
Causes of such calamities are the subject of seemingly endless debate. Commentators, politicians, scientists, and many others have opinions as to the causes.
The Lord Jesus Christ said concerning the Restoration of His gospel:
“Wherefore, I the Lord, knowing the calamity which should come upon the inhabitants of the earth, called upon my servant Joseph Smith, Jun., and spake unto him from heaven, and gave him commandments; …
“Search these commandments, for they are true and faithful, and the prophecies and promises which are in them shall all be fulfilled.”
Let us turn our attention to the reasons or purposes for such calamities. Fortunately, debate is not needed here because we have the fulness of Christ’s gospel on which we can rely. Search the words of the prophets in the Book of Mormon and the Bible; read the teachings of Jesus Christ in the 24th chapter of Matthew; study the Lord’s latter-day revelations in the Doctrine and Covenants. Herein we learn the purposes of God in such matters.
Calamities are a form of adversity, and adversity is a necessary part of Heavenly Father’s plan for the happiness of His children.
If our hearts are right before God, adversity will school us, help us overcome our carnal nature, and nurture the divine spark within us. Were it not for adversity, we would not know to “choose the better part.” Adversity helps us see where we need to repent, to bring into subjection baser instincts, to embrace righteousness and enjoy “peace of conscience.”
The more we cleave unto righteousness, the more we enjoy the protecting care of our Savior. He is the Creator and Lord of the universe. He will calm the winds and the waves. His teachings and Atonement will heal the repentant soul. He is the Messiah or Deliverer, and because of Him, each of us can be in charge of his or her personal world, even as tragedies beset us. Listen to these truths:
“The Messiah cometh in the fulness of time, that he may redeem the children of men from the fall. And because that they are redeemed from the fall they have become free forever, knowing good from evil; to act for themselves and not to be acted upon, save it be by the punishment of the law at the great and last day, according to the commandments which God hath given.
“Wherefore, men are free according to the flesh; and all things are given them which are expedient unto man. And they are free to choose liberty and eternal life, through the great Mediator of all men, or to choose captivity and death, according to the captivity and power of the devil; for [the devil] seeketh that all men might be miserable like unto himself.”
We will do well to remember that the devil is the destroyer.
It is true that in this life we are only as free as our mortal circumstances allow. We may not be able to stay the course of war in distant lands or with our puny arm hold back the tempests that rage or run freely when our body is imprisoned by failing health. But it is verily true that such things do not ultimately control our personal world. We do!
The Prophet Joseph Smith declared, “Happiness is the object and design of our existence; and will be the end thereof, if we pursue the path that leads to it; and this path is virtue, uprightness, faithfulness, holiness, and keeping all the commandments of God.”
And so, most honorable mayor, the gospel of Jesus Christ does provide answers to all of the world’s problems, precisely because it provides solutions to the ills of every living soul.
Every time calamity strikes, there is a corresponding sacred obligation that falls upon each of us to become better. We should ask ourselves, “What part of my life needs to change so that the weight of chastisement need not be felt?”
In the scriptures the Lord makes clear what He expects of us as such judgments descend. He says: “Gird up your loins and be prepared. Behold, the kingdom is yours, and the enemy shall not overcome.”
The Church and its members are commanded to be self-reliant and independent. Preparation begins with faith, which enables us to weather vicissitudes as they come. We see earth life as a preparatory journey. Faith in the Lord and His gospel conquers fear and begets spirituality.
Spirituality grows as we “pray, and … walk uprightly before the Lord.” It is “the consciousness of victory over self and of communion with the Infinite.”
Faith, spirituality, and obedience produce a prepared and self-reliant people. As we obey the covenant of tithing, we are shielded from want and the power of the destroyer. As we obey the fast and give generously to care for others, our prayers are heard and family fidelity increases. Similar blessings come as we obey the counsel of the prophets and live within our means, avoid unnecessary debt, and set aside sufficient of life’s necessities to sustain ourselves and our families for at least a year. This may not always be easy, but let us do our “very best,” and our stores shall not fail—there shall be “enough and to spare.”
And again the Lord says, “Be ye strong from henceforth; fear not, for the kingdom is yours.”
Strength and resiliency come by righteous living. One is not righteous who is a saint on Sunday and a slacker the remainder of the week. Unchecked appetites are destructive and cause men to “trifle … with sacred things.” President Brigham Young taught, “The sin that will cleave to all the posterity of Adam and Eve is, that they have not done as well as they knew how.”
The gospel of Jesus Christ is the pathway to righteousness. Tragedies never triumph where personal righteousness prevails. Let us, therefore, heed the counsel of the Apostle Paul:
“The night is far spent, the day is at hand: let us therefore cast off the works of darkness, and let us put on the armour of light.
“Let us walk honestly, as in the day; not in rioting and drunkenness, not in chambering and wantonness, not in strife and envying.
“But put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make not provision for the flesh, to fulfil the lusts thereof.”
Our duty as Latter-day Saints is to prepare ourselves, this earth, and its inhabitants for the Second Coming of the Lord Jesus Christ. Being prepared and being strong as the gospel teaches ensure happiness here and hereafter and make this “grand millennial mission” possible.
Our beloved President Hinckley has admonished: “Now, my brethren and sisters, the time has come for us to stand a little taller, to lift our eyes and stretch our minds to a greater comprehension and understanding of the grand millennial mission of this, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. This is a season to be strong. It is a time to move forward without hesitation, knowing well the meaning, the breadth, and the importance of our mission. It is a time to do what is right regardless of the consequences that might follow. It is a time to be found keeping the commandments. It is a season to reach out with kindness and love to those in distress and to those who are wandering in darkness and pain. It is a time to be considerate and good, decent and courteous toward one another in all of our relationships—in other words, to become more Christlike.”
This admonition by the Lord’s prophet points our way through these turbulent times. To all who suffer, our hearts reach out to you. May Heavenly Father, in His infinite mercy, make light your burdens and fill your lives with that peace which “passeth all understanding.” You are not alone. Our love and faith and prayers are joined with yours. Press forward in righteousness, and all will be well.
In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

After my experiences over the past few years, I think I understand what Paul might have felt. Like Paul, I now have a “thorn” that slows me, and like him I have prayed countless times for it to be taken away.
As I lay on the operating table, the surgeon’s voice broke through the fog of anesthesia, firm yet gentle: “Stacy, move your left arm. Now your left leg.” He repeated the request, but as my mind desperately sent signals to my body, nothing happened. My left side remained unresponsive, lifeless. In that moment, the fear that had loomed over me—of being paralyzed after brain surgery—became my reality. I remember thinking, “This is it; the risk I dreaded has come true.”
As I fully awakened, I told the surgeon I was trying to move, just as I had for the past 49 years. But my body, once so familiar, was now foreign and terrifying, refusing to obey.
Weeks in hospital rehabilitation turned into months, and months into years of grueling physical therapy. I needed help with nearly every movement. The sadness I felt during those years was overwhelming, far greater than anything I had ever experienced. It wasn’t just the physical weight of my new reality that crushed my spirit—it was the emotional toll. It was like I had been walking down a clear, well-worn path for nearly 50 years, only to find it suddenly overgrown with thick roots and towering trees. The way forward was obscured, and navigating it seemed impossible. Each day brought a new battle with sadness, fear, and anger as I fought to regain even a fraction of the physical ability I had once taken for granted.
Eighteen months after the surgery, my husband and I were invited to speak at a religious conference. The topic? “What accessing the grace of Jesus Christ daily looks like.” As we prepared, we immersed ourselves in studying Christ’s grace and how it operates in our lives. Grace, as defined in the Bible Dictionary, is “divine means of help or strength, given through the bounteous mercy and love of Jesus Christ.”
One week before the conference, I went on a bike ride with a friend. I rode my recumbent trike, which gives me the freedom to move, while she pedaled beside me on her bicycle. We talked as we rode, and as usual I cried. Sadness had become my constant companion, something the medical world might label as situational depression. I opened up to my friend about how lost I felt, about the overwhelming sadness that shadowed my days.
She asked me a question that has stayed with me ever since: “Stacy, what exactly are you sad about? What do you feel like you’ve lost?” I didn’t have an answer. I knew I was sad about my loss of movement, fearful that I would never regain my strength or the ability to do the things I once could. But the source of my sadness remained elusive.
A few days before the conference, the answer I had been searching for came to me, seemingly out of nowhere. I woke up in the middle of the night, a time when my anxious thoughts usually kept me company. But that night, a phrase echoed in my mind: “Graceful—full of grace.” As I drifted back to sleep, I thought to myself, “Yes, that’s a good point. Being graceful means being full of His grace. I’ll include that in my presentation.”
When I woke again in the morning, the same phrase was there, clear and insistent: “Graceful—full of grace.” I realized then that this message wasn’t just for the people at the conference—it was for me. That was the source of my sadness. That was what I had lost: my physical gracefulness.
As a young girl, I had been a ballerina, dancing through much of my adolescence and into college. I had never thought of myself as graceful, but years of training had ingrained in me a certain physical poise—a way of standing, moving, and balancing. Even after I stopped dancing, that grace remained. And now, in the quiet of those early morning hours, the Lord was redefining the word for me. I no longer needed the physical grace I once had. I had His grace to lean on in my moments of weakness. His grace was sufficient to help me smile, to shift my focus from my limitations to His strength.
Heaven’s message to me was clear: “You no longer need to rely on the physical grace you’ve learned. My strength is made perfect in your weakness.”
Graceful.
It’s a word I now carry with me, not as a reminder of what I’ve lost but of what I’ve gained. It’s not about my grace anymore—it’s about Christ’s grace, filling my heart and mind.
Graceful. It’s a word I now carry with me, not as a reminder of what I’ve lost but of what I’ve gained.
At the conference, I found myself in a room packed with people, needing to cross to the other side. There was no clear aisle, no easy path to navigate. As I stood up, I whispered to myself, “Graceful.” His grace, not mine. That simple word gave me the courage to move, to weave through the crowd without fear.
The more I let go of my old grace and embraced His, the easier life became. I found the strength to do what I could never do alone. His grace allowed me to see myself as a beloved daughter of God, to give my all, knowing He would fill in the gaps where I couldn’t. His grace brought gratitude even for my weaknesses.
I still wrestle with frustration and fear every day. My “thorn” hasn’t been removed. But now when those dark thoughts creep in, I have a powerful tool: the Savior’s grace. I repeat the word graceful to myself and move forward with Him. I don’t know when or how physical healing will come, but I trust that He knows, and that’s enough.
Like Paul, I am grateful for my infirmity because it has opened my eyes to see Him more clearly in my life. I place my trust in Him, and in return He gives me peace and joy and the assurance that He will deliver me.
The author lives in Utah.

There are abundant examples of successful youth leadership occurring minute by minute all over the world. Let me give you just one example.
I met Matt Andersen, a teachers quorum president whose father was serving as a mission president in Mexico. When Matt was set apart as the quorum president, he was the only member of the teachers quorum attending church in his ward. Young President Matt Andersen was learning a new language so he could be an effective missionary. Going forward with faith, courage, and confidence gained at home and in the deacons quorum, he determined to use his keys of presidency to bless the members of his quorum and their families. He immediately asked for a list of quorum members from the ward clerk, practiced his Spanish, and with a prayer in his heart called the one boy who was listed with a telephone number. He said, “¡Omar: Tú, Iglesia, Hoy!” Or in English, “Omar! You, Church, Today!” Just the basic message!
The miracle is that Omar came to church that day, and soon thereafter so did his mother and sister. Our young quorum president, Matt Andersen, then invited the bishop to drive him, translate, and together visit two other boys whose names were on the list but without telephone numbers. His keys of presidency, the ministering of angels, and the powers of heaven combined. The result was that these two boys also came to church and formed the new teachers quorum presidency. Other boys and their families also returned to the blessings of the gospel and the priesthood.

One morning Samantha asked her mother if she could go over to Brother Brown’s house to help pull weeds in his garden.
“Of course you may,” Samantha’s mother replied. “Just be home before noon. I’m sure that Brother Brown will like your help.”
Samantha found Brother Brown in his garden. “Hi, Brother Brown,” Samantha said. “I came to help you.”
“I’m glad to see you, Samantha,” Brother Brown said. “There are lots of weeds to pull.”
Samantha pulled weeds in the carrots. She pulled weeds in the beets. Then she pulled weeds in the corn.
“You’re a wonderful helper,” said Brother Brown. “Come into the garage, and I’ll show you some other helpers.”
Samantha went into Brother Brown’s garage. “See that box,” said Brother Brown. “My other helpers are inside it. They help me get rid of little bugs that would ruin my garden.”
Samantha wondered what was in the box. She picked it up—it felt empty! Surprised, she took the lid off the box. Ten thousand ladybugs were crawling all over each other. Some of them flew out of the box. There were ladybugs on the car. There were ladybugs on the windows. There were ladybugs on the workbench and the walls and the rafters. There were ladybugs everywhere.
“Oh—oh,” said Brother Brown. “I forgot to tell you not to take the lid off the box until we took it outside.”
Brother Brown and Samantha carried the ladybugs that hadn’t already escaped out to the garden. Then they left the garage door open to let the rest of the tiny creatures out into the yard. And before noon most of the ladybugs were out in the garden, eating the little bugs that were eating the vegetables.
Brother Brown was very happy as he and Samantha looked over the garden. “I have the best helpers in the world,” said Brother Brown. “A wonderful young lady and ten thousand ladybugs can’t be beat!”

Bishop David Day of Aylesbury Ward in the Watford Stake decided that 2021’s Mothering Sunday needed to be different and certainly needed to reflect the technical journey on which most members have been during COVID restrictions.
Every year, the Aylesbury Ward has given all sisters a small gift on Mothering Sunday, hoping that they would understand how much they are appreciated. Sometimes it has been a flower, and sometimes chocolate. Last year everyone received an Easter egg.
As COVID-19 has caused many ward meetings to go online and delivering a physical gift in person would go against the spirit of current government advice, the Bishopric turned to a digital gift for the first time.
The primary children and youth in the ward were asked to send the bishopric a video explaining why they loved their mothers, or why mothers were amazing. This was done without their mothers being aware—the children enjoyed recording each other with their dads’ phones!
Bishop Day then edited the videos and used them to prepare a short video presentation, which included quotes from Church leaders. At the end of the ward’s Zoom sacrament meeting, he asked the sisters to check their email inbox for the link to the video.
Many sisters immediately reported back to him, expressing their joy at receiving this video, which included loving messages. It was a fabulous surprise from their children.

A historic example of commitment to be strong and immovable for all ages was portrayed by a British Olympian who competed in the 1924 Olympics in Paris, France.

Eric Liddell was the son of a Scottish missionary to China and a devoutly religious man. He infuriated the British leadership of the Olympics by refusing, even under enormous pressure, to run in a preliminary 100-meter race held on Sunday. Ultimately he was victorious in the 400-meter race. Liddell’s example of refusing to run on Sunday was particularly inspiring.

Depictions and memorials in his honor have referred to the inspirational words from Isaiah, “But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.”24

Liddell’s admirable conduct was very influential in our youngest son’s decision to not participate in Sunday sports and, more importantly, to separate himself from unrighteous and worldly conduct. He used the quote from Isaiah for his yearbook contribution. Eric Liddell left a powerful example of determination and commitment to principle.

I live in Nairobi, Kenya, in Africa. We used to live in Austin, Texas, but my dad got a job with the United States Foreign Service, so now we live here.
After the first Sunday at church, I did not want to go to church anymore. I cried many times, wishing that all my Church friends were here. I could tell that I was losing faith. I told my dad my feelings, and he said to pray for understanding and to search the scriptures for the truth.
I did what he told me to do but did not feel any better. One night I prayed and sat waiting for something. Then I felt a warm feeling. I felt like Heavenly Father did not send me an answer the first time I prayed, because I already knew. He sent me an answer this time for reassurance.
I bear you my testimony that I really do know The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is true. I know that Jesus Christ died for us. I know that He lives and loves us. I love Him so much! I will always remember this branch and my experiences here. It may be a little different, but gospel principles are still taught here. I really like church now. The Primary leaders are great and very nice. I love being around them, and I can’t wait to go to church each week.

Peace McBride, an apprentice seamstress, and her mistress, Mrs. Root, have heard the Prophet Joseph Smith preach, studied the Book of Mormon, and been baptized into the Church. Now Peace has received Sister Root’s permission and the necessary money to visit her family in a distant county to share her joy in the gospel with them.
On the eve of a brand new decade, December 31, 1839, Peace was bundled in a warm cloak and sitting on top of a coach. Only something as important as the gospel could make Peace take such a journey. Sister Root had tried for days to find someone who was traveling toward the town of Chester Springs, but there were few travelers this time of year. Even so, not a seat was left inside the coach, and no one had been willing to give up his seat to the young girl. I won’t think of the cold, Peace decided. I’ll think of how warm I was after my baptism, of Sister Root’s warm parlor, of anything but the cold.
Cheerfully she hugged a paper-wrapped parcel to her chest. It was Sister Root’s copy of the Book of Mormon. She had given it to Peace as the excited girl had boarded the stage. “I shouldn’t let you be doing this,” Sister Root had fretted. “But since you’re going, here, take the book. It won’t do you much good to just talk about it—your folks need a chance to read it.”
Feeling cold creep around her toes as the coach got farther and farther from Philadelphia, Peace wriggled them and thought about the past few weeks. There had been such a change in her employer! Peace could remember when sour words and slaps were served up regularly to her. Sister Root’s whole manner had changed from the time that she first listened to the Prophet.
Glancing around, Peace noticed that the slush in the road had frozen. She stomped her feet and moved her arms to keep warm. Finally she saw the inn up ahead. It was a two-day trip home, and whenever she made it, she always stayed there.
After a warm meal, Peace felt better and hurried to her room. She knew that the coach would leave shortly after dawn, and she needed all the sleep that she could get. Wrapping herself in the quilts, she drifted peacefully to sleep.
Several hours later she awoke as cold again gripped her. The cozy little room that she had enjoyed in the summer was far from any heat source. Seeing frost forming around the window and on the panes, Peace knew that it was frightfully cold. Reaching for her cloak, she hastily put it on over her nightclothes. Back under the covers, she shivered until she was warm enough to fall asleep again.
The frost was so thick on the panes when Peace awoke a second time that light from the feeble sunrise hardly penetrated the room. She dressed under the covers, then hurried to the gathering room. The other travelers were already huddled around the fire, so she had to stand behind them, where she could barely feel its warmth.
A warm breakfast and cheerful words from the inn-keeper helped. Bracing herself, Peace again took her seat on top of the coach. This time she wore all the clothes that she had brought with her. Yet, before noon, her throat was scratchy. By evening, she was really sick. As the coach approached Chester Springs, she was so ill that she hardly knew what was happening around her.
A kind farmer going her way agreed to take Peace to her family’s farm. It was only two miles outside of town, but to Peace the trip took forever. Each time the wagon hit a rut, her head seemed to explode with pain.
Hearing her mother’s voice was almost like being in heaven. Peace tried to rise from where she lay in the back of the farmer’s wagon, but she sank back weakly.
“Peace!” her mother cried. “Whatever are you doing here?” She bustled around and fussed as the farmer and Mr. McBride carried the girl into the house.
It was bliss for Peace to lie in a soft, warm bed in the safety of her home. Her mother helped undress her and started to take the paper-wrapped parcel from her.
“No!” Peace mumbled. “I need to keep this with me. It’s why I came here, and it’s very important.”
“Important or not,” her mother said firmly, “it’s going on the dresser. It will be there when you get better.”
It was a week before Peace felt well enough to even sit up. She had developed a fever and a deep cough and was able to do little but lie there and try to get well.
“You’re awake!” her mother said cheerfully one morning as she came into Peace’s room. “After breakfast and a wash, you’ll feel much better, I’m sure.”
Peace smiled at her mother. It was so good to be home. Looking over at the dresser, she noticed that the parcel was gone. “Where did my book go?”
“I have it, but not for long.”
Peace looked up in surprise at the angry tone of her mother’s voice.
“How did you come by such a book,” her mother asked.
“Sister Root gave it to me.”
“I should never have let you go off on your own.”
“But, Mother, you know I had to. It was an opportunity for the whole family for me to train with such a great dressmaker.”
“She promised to watch over you!”
Peace smiled at her mother and hoped to get her in a better mood. “She watched over me very well. Do you know anything about the Book of Mormon?”
“Reverend Thompson said that the book is of the devil. He told me to burn it!”
Peace sat up in bed. “You didn’t, did you?” she cried.
“Not yet.” Her mother’s face softened. “It seemed to mean so much to you. And you came so far to bring it to us. I’ll admit that I was a little curious about it, because you value it, so I read a little of it.”
“Did it sound like the devil wrote it?” Peace asked softly.
“Well, no,” her mother admitted and smiled back at Peace. “I read a beautiful story about the Savior visiting a strange people in a land that I never heard of.”
“Bountiful?”
“Yes, that’s it. I have to say that it was a beautiful tale!”
“Oh, Mother,” Peace said fervently, “it’s more than a tale. It’s true—every word of it! If you read about it and pray about it, you’ll know that too.”
“Reverend Thompson said that no God-loving person would get involved with this book. He’s a good man, and he’s been our minister since you were a baby.”
Peace didn’t know what to say. Reverend Thompson was a good man. He’d been more than kind to her over the years. “Have the Mormon elders been in this area?”
“Yes, they have,” her mother answered. “Why?”
“Did many people listen and join the Church?”
“Yes. In fact, the number of people in our church has dwindled. And Reverend Thompson is very unhappy about it.”
“There, Mother. That’s your answer. Reverend Thompson is afraid that he’ll lose his congregation.”
Now it was her mother’s turn to look thoughtful. “You may be right. …”
“Mother, will you and Father read the whole book—and pray sincerely about it? Then if you have any questions, we can ask the elders to come visit.”
“I’m still not sure.”
“Please? It means so much to me.”
Peace’s mother loved her oldest daughter very much. She had been parted from her for a long time, and she felt that it wouldn’t hurt to do as Peace asked.
“All right. I will read it, and I’ll ask your father if he will too. I can’t promise more than that.”
“I know,” Peace said understandingly. “Sister Root didn’t want to believe, either. She wouldn’t let me be baptized until she knew more about the Church.”
“Rightly so,” her mother agreed. “I guess that maybe she was caring for you well.”
With just a few days left till she had to go back, Peace spent all the time that she could with her two brothers and three little sisters. She talked to them about the big city and the things that she had seen. “Not long ago I went into a big church near Mistress Root’s shop. There was a man speaking there,” she told them. “His name is Joseph Smith. He’s a very great man, and he’s a prophet.”
“Like Moses?” Jimmy asked in wonder.
“Yes, like Moses. When he talked, I felt that he had great power. We all felt it, and it changed my life.” She told them all that had happened to her. She told them, too, about the Savior and His visit to the New World. They listened eagerly as she told them stories from the Book of Mormon.
Because it was winter, the McBrides spent most of their time indoors. Peace read the Book of Mormon to her father as he mended harnesses and to her mother while she knitted. They listened intently to what Peace read, and her brothers and sisters did too.
Peace attended sacrament meeting at the small branch. Afterward she invited the elders to visit her family. When they came, her father asked many questions. He didn’t say much but nodded his head as the elders answered him.
The time soon came when Peace had to leave. Her heart was heavy because her parents still had not committed themselves to joining the Church.
Her father took her in their wagon to the inn and placed her bag inside the boot of the coach. Peace had a seat inside this time. She also had a warm quilt that her mother made for her to wrap up in.
“Good-bye, Peace,” her father told her, giving her a big hug. “I know what you want from your mother and me. I’m proud of you for believing your religion enough to suffer hardship to try to bring it to us. We’re not ready yet. Don’t give up on us, though. Just give us time.”
Peace left with a warm feeling. She knew that no matter what happened, she had done what she could to teach her family. Now she would give time and the Holy Ghost a chance to finish the work.

Paul was looking for a book when someone pushed him into the shelf. The shelf wobbled, and several of the books almost fell. He turned around. Danny stood a few feet away, pretending to look for a book. He had his softball glove under his arm.
“Why did you do that?” Paul asked angrily.
Danny shrugged and started to walk away.
Paul caught him by the arm. “Why did you push me?”
“Don’t touch me,” Danny said, grabbing Paul’s arm.
Paul tried to pull his arm away, but Danny wouldn’t let go. They pushed and pulled until they both crashed into the shelf and fell, while books rained down on top of them.
“Paul, Danny, stop that right now,” the teacher said. “Stop fighting and pick up those books!”
“He started it,” Paul said as he stood up.
“Did not,” Danny said, still on the floor. He kicked at Paul’s leg from behind a desk where the teacher could not see.
“I don’t care how it started,” the teacher replied. “I want it stopped. Clean up that mess and go back to your desks. If I see you boys fighting again, I’ll send you both to the principal’s office.”
They picked up the books without looking at each other.
Paul sat at his desk with the book he’d picked out open in front of him, but he was too angry to read it. He looked over at Danny, who sat at his desk, picking at the stitching in his glove. Why was Danny out to get him all the time? Couldn’t the teacher see what was happening? Why did he have to get in trouble for something Danny did?
Paul felt miserable. He closed his eyes and whispered a prayer. “Heavenly Father, please bless me that Danny will get in trouble for bothering me, so he’ll leave me alone.”
He opened his eyes. He still felt miserable. Then he remembered the words to one of the songs he’d sung in Primary—“‘Jesus said love ev’ryone.’”*
Paul frowned. He didn’t want to hate Danny. But he didn’t want to love him either.
Recess came and his classmates started a softball game in the field. Paul stayed on a bench at the other end of the schoolyard. He had his softball glove in his backpack, but he didn’t want to play. Not if Danny was playing.
He looked down the field and noticed Danny wasn’t playing either. He sat at the edge of the field with his softball glove beside him.
Paul remembered the Primary song again—“‘Jesus said love ev’ryone.’”
His stomach twisted itself into a knot. He couldn’t go and talk to Danny. They’d get in another fight, and he’d be sent to the office. But as he thought of the words, “‘Jesus said love ev’ryone; treat them kindly too,’” he knew what he had to do.
Paul got up. He pulled his softball glove out of his backpack. He picked up one of the extra softballs and went over to Danny.
“Hi,” he said.
“What do you want?” Danny asked.
Paul held up the ball. “Do you want to play catch?”
Danny looked up at him for a moment. Then he picked up his glove. “OK.”
They started to toss the ball back and forth. Paul couldn’t throw very well, and said “sorry” every time he threw too short or too far to one side.
Danny didn’t complain. He just retrieved the ball and threw it back to him. He threw the ball better than Paul and didn’t miss as often, but after a while he started saying “sorry” as well whenever he threw it too far.
Paul didn’t feel miserable anymore. He started to relax and enjoy himself. He smiled. He knew that Heavenly Father had answered his prayer, just not the way he had thought he wanted.
When the bell rang and they had to stop, Paul noticed that Danny was smiling too. Paul hummed the Primary song to himself on his way back to class— “‘Jesus said love ev’ryone; treat them kindly too. When your heart is filled with love, others will love you.’”

In a recent Sunday Relief Society meeting, I listened to a young mother share part of her journey of conversion. She had grown up in the Church, with parents who taught her the gospel. She attended Primary, Young Women, and seminary. She loved to learn and discover truths. Her constant quest was to know why. Elder Russell M. Nelson has said, “The Lord can only teach an inquiring mind.” And this young woman was teachable.
After high school she attended a university, was sealed in the temple to a returned missionary, and was blessed with beautiful children.
With the spirit of inquiry, this mother continued to ask questions. But as the questions grew harder, so did the answers. And sometimes there were no answers—or no answers that brought peace. Eventually, as she sought to find answers, more and more questions arose, and she began to question some of the very foundations of her faith.
During this confusing time, some of those around her said, “Just lean on my faith.” But she thought, “I can’t. You don’t understand; you’re not grappling with these issues.” She explained, “I was willing to extend courtesy to those without doubts if they would extend courtesy to me.” And many did.
She said, “My parents knew my heart and allowed me space. They chose to love me while I was trying to figure it out for myself.” Likewise, this young mother’s bishop often met with her and spoke of his confidence in her.
Ward members also did not hesitate to give love, and she felt included. Her ward was not a place to put on a perfect face; it was a place of nurture.
“It was interesting,” she remembers. “During this time I felt a real connection to my grandparents who had died. They were pulling for me and urging me to keep trying. I felt they were saying, ‘Focus on what you know.’”
In spite of her substantial support system, she became less active. She said, “I did not separate myself from the Church because of bad behavior, spiritual apathy, looking for an excuse not to live the commandments, or searching for an easy out. I felt I needed the answer to the question ‘What do I really believe?’”
About this time she read a book of the writings of Mother Teresa, who had shared similar feelings. In a 1953 letter, Mother Teresa wrote: “Please pray specially for me that I may not spoil His work and that Our Lord may show Himself—for there is such terrible darkness within me, as if everything was dead. It has been like this more or less from the time I started ‘the work.’ Ask Our Lord to give me courage.”
Archbishop Périer responded: “God guides you, dear Mother; you are not so much in the dark as you think. The path to be followed may not always be clear at once. Pray for light; do not decide too quickly, listen to what others have to say, consider their reasons. You will always find something to help you. … Guided by faith, by prayer, and by reason with a right intention, you have enough.”
My friend thought if Mother Teresa could live her religion without all the answers and without a feeling of clarity in all things, maybe she could too. She could take one simple step forward in faith—and then another. She could focus on the truths she did believe and let those truths fill her mind and heart.

Now, from the life of another brave believer. On December 27, 2013, Alicia Schroeder joyfully welcomed her dear friends Sean and Sharla Chilcote, who unexpectedly showed up on her doorstep. Sean, who was also Alicia’s bishop, handed her his cell phone and solemnly said, “Alicia, we love you. You need to take this call.”

Alicia’s husband, Mario, was on the phone. He was in a remote area with some of their children on a long-anticipated snowmobile trip. There had been a terrible accident. Mario was seriously injured, and their 10-year-old son, Kaleb, was gone. When Mario tearfully told Alicia of Kaleb’s death, she was overcome with a shock and horror few of us will ever know. It dropped her. Paralyzed with unspeakable anguish, Alicia could neither move nor speak.

Bishop and Sister Chilcote quickly lifted her up and held her. They wept and deeply grieved together for some time. Then Bishop Chilcote offered to give Alicia a blessing.

What happened next is incomprehensible without some understanding of the Atonement of Jesus Christ and the immediate goodness of God. Bishop Chilcote gently placed his hands on Alicia’s head and, with quivering voice, began to speak. Alicia heard two things as though spoken by God Himself. First, she heard her name, Alicia Susan Schroeder. Then she heard the bishop invoke the authority of Almighty God. In that instant—at the mere utterance of her name and God’s power—Alicia was filled with an indescribable peace, love, comfort, and somehow joy. And it has continued with her.

Now, of course, Alicia, Mario, and their family still mourn for and miss Kaleb. It is hard! Whenever I speak with her, Alicia’s eyes well up with tears as she tells how much she loves and misses her little boy. And her eyes remain moist as she tells how the Great Deliverer has sustained her through every bit of her ordeal, beginning with His immediate goodness during her deepest despair and continuing now with the bright hope of a sweet reunion that is “not many days hence.”

Elder Soares: I remember what a challenge it was during those first five years after marriage when we were trying to have children.
Sister Soares: Those years were very difficult. I couldn’t get pregnant.
Elder Soares: We had many health challenges after so much effort. That’s when we received a priesthood blessing. Later you had a surgery, and a few months later …
Sister Soares: Our dream came true.
Elder Soares: You got pregnant.
Sister Soares: We trusted so much in the Lord, and we recognized tangible blessings. It was not easy for the two of us, who were so inexperienced, but it has also been marvelous.
Elder Soares: While we were dealing with life, the Lord provided for our spiritual needs, giving us the peace that we needed, the comfort and ability to work, to continue on, to finish our education. It was a significant time in our lives that completely changed the direction of everything we thought we’d be doing.

Well, that service ended, and there wasn’t one person I knew who slept that night. And there wasn’t much talking going on. You held your rifle and reported to your boat team station, and at 5:00 when that whistle went off, we prepared to embark. I was assigned to the seventh wave that morning. Unfortunately, the first six waves didn’t even get ashore. Completely blown out of the water. Thousands of lives sacrificed for you, for me, for the defense of this country. And I remember how I felt as I was put on shore on that little coral reef; by then the tide was in and I had to wade to shore in water clear up to my chest, rifle extended, and I had to push through the dead bodies of my friends and those I had trained and associated with. Don’t tell me you don’t ask questions. Why was that wonderful kid, 19 years old, face down in the water? Why? As I crawled ashore, and finally made a little progress about ten feet up the beach and dug a little hole there, I took off my helmet and started to ask the Lord why. Why, Lord, why should I be out there?
I’d never prayed like that before. I’d been a Latter-day Saint all my life. I’d watched my mom and dad get on their knees in family prayer. May I confess again, mine was an attitude at ages 16 and 17, “Let’s get this over with, folks. My gosh, my folks are fanatical. Pa, do we have to pray tonight?” You know those feelings. I find that others feel and think this way in our society, and it’s because our vision is short; we haven’t been able to see enough to ask penetrating questions.
I remember kneeling a number of times with my father and listening to him pour out his soul to his Heavenly Father. My dad was a sharp, capable businessman, respected by the community, a great leader from whom others sought counsel, and yet in his own humble way he would often kneel and say, “Lord, here’s my problem. Help my boy Paul, and my sons Bob and David,” or “There’s a difficult area in my business. What’s your counsel, Lord?” And I watched time after time as my father got off his knees with a tear or two in his eyes, and looked heavenward, and gave thanks and appreciation.
Up to the time I went ashore at Guam, I had never known God. But one thing I did know as I waded ashore on that fateful day was that my dad knew that God lived, and my dad got answers. And as I dug in, I knew that I could do exactly what my dad did, and I’ll be eternally grateful for his guidance and teaching. As I knelt down with my head bared, even in the danger of cross fire, I asked my Heavenly Father very simply, “Do you live? Are you real? Is Jesus Christ really the Savior? Was Joseph Smith a prophet of the Church, like I’ve heard all of my life and can’t understand?” And then it came. That sweet inner commitment and verification. Spirit touching spirit, saying in a silent voice, “It is so.” And so complete was that feeling within my heart on that July day that I could actually have gotten up out of my hole, I felt, and walked unharmed across that battlefield. The peace and the security were that great.
A testimony was born, because I had asked with real intent. I had prayed a thousand times before in a mechanical way because the pressure was on from family and church. But now I really wanted to know. Are you there, Lord? Will you tell me? And he did. And since that day, I have given my life to him. And I’ve had verification upon verification that this church is true, that Joseph Smith was called and ordained to restore the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Four days after arriving in the valley, Wilford had been riding alone several miles from camp when he saw twenty American Indians on a ridge ahead of him. In coming west, the Saints knew they would encounter Native peoples along the trail and in the Great Basin. Yet they had expected to find the Salt Lake Valley largely unoccupied. In reality, the Shoshones, the Utes, and a few other tribes often came to the valley to hunt and gather food.
Cautiously turning his horse around, Wilford started back to camp at a slow trot. One of the Indians galloped after him, and when only a hundred yards separated them, Wilford halted his horse, turned to face the rider, and tried to communicate with improvised sign language. The man was friendly, and Wilford learned that he was a Ute who wanted peace and commerce with the Saints. Since then, the Saints had made additional contact with Indians, including the Shoshones from the north.14

A few years before she passed away, she was diagnosed with cancer, a disease she fought with great courage. As a family we learned, strangely enough, that cancer is a disease of love. It provides opportunities to mend fences, say goodbyes, and express love. A few weeks before my mother’s death, we were visiting in the family room of my boyhood home. Mom had fine taste and liked nice things. She also longed to travel, but our family lived on a modest budget, and these dreams were not quite realized. Knowing this, I asked her if she had any regrets. I fully expected to hear she had always wanted a larger, more beautiful home or perhaps an expression of sadness and disappointment over never having traveled. She pondered my question for a few moments and replied simply, “I wish I had served more.”

I was shocked at her response. My mother had always accepted Church callings. She served as ward Relief Society president, Sunday School teacher, visiting teacher, and in the Primary. As children we were always delivering casseroles, jam, and bottled fruit to neighbors and members of the ward. When I reminded her of all this, she was undeterred. “I could have done more” was all she said. My mother had lived an exemplary and full life. She was loved by family and friends. She had accomplished much in a life that was often hard and which was cut short by disease and sickness. In spite of all of this, her greatest regret was she had not given enough service. Now, I have no doubt my mother’s earthly sacrifice has been accepted by the Lord and that she has been welcomed by Him. But why was it foremost in her mind just days before her passing? What is service, and why is it so important in the gospel of Jesus Christ?

First, we are commanded to serve one another. The first commandment is to love God. “And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.”
We demonstrate our love when we help and serve each other.
President Gordon B. Hinckley has said: “No man can be a true Latter-day Saint who is unneighborly, who does not reach out to assist and help others. It is inherent in the very nature of the gospel that we do so. My brothers and sisters, we cannot live unto ourselves.”
The Savior taught His disciples this important principle in Matthew:
“Lord, when saw we thee an hungred, and fed thee? or thirsty, and gave thee drink?
“When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in; or naked, and clothed thee?
“Or when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee?
“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.”
This service is to be given unselfishly, with no thought of personal gain or reward. It is to be given as needed, not when convenient. Opportunities to serve may not always seem obvious, as it is human nature to worry about our own wants and needs. We must resist such tendencies and look for opportunities to serve. When we visit with those who are suffering from sickness, loss of loved ones, or other heartbreak, it is not enough to simply say, “Call if there is anything I can do.” Rather, look for ways to bless the lives of others through seemingly simple acts of service. It is better to do even things of little consequence than to do nothing at all.
Second, we have an obligation as members of the Church to accept callings to serve in building the kingdom of God on earth. As we serve in our various callings, we bless the lives of others. In missionary work lives are changed as people learn of the gospel of Jesus Christ and receive a testimony of its truth. By the sacred work in the temple we bless the lives of those who have gone on before us. In gospel service we have the privilege to teach others, to strengthen the youth, and to bless the lives of the little children as they learn the simple truths of the gospel. In Church service we learn to give of ourselves and to help others.
President Spencer W. Kimball, a great example of service, said: “God does notice us, and he watches over us. But it is usually through another mortal that he meets our needs. Therefore, it is vital that we serve each other in the kingdom.” The responsibility of service in the Church, however, does not relieve us of our responsibility to serve our families and our neighbors. President Kimball went on to warn, “None of us should become so busy in our formal Church assignments that there is no room left for quiet Christian service to our neighbors.”
Finally, we have a responsibility to render service in our communities. We should work to improve our neighborhoods, our schools, our cities, and our towns. I commend those in our midst who, regardless of their political persuasion, work within our local, state, and national governments to improve our lives. Likewise, I commend those who volunteer their time and resources to support worthy community and charitable causes, which bless the lives of others and make the world a better place. My grandfather taught me at an early age, “The public service we render is the rent we pay for our place on earth.”
Service requires unselfishness, sharing, and giving. My wife and I learned a valuable lesson during our time of service in Africa. We were assigned to a district conference in Jinja, Uganda. Early Saturday morning before our meetings began, we took the opportunity to tour a new chapel in the area. As we arrived at the building, we were greeted by a young boy of three to four years of age. He had come to the Church grounds to see what was going on. Struck by his broad smile, Sister Snow reached in her purse and handed him a wrapped piece of hard butterscotch candy. He was delighted.
We spent a few minutes touring the chapel before returning outside. We were met by more than a dozen smiling children, who each wanted to meet the new neighborhood candy lady.
Phyllis was heartbroken, as she had given the boy her last piece of candy. She disappointedly gestured to the children there was no more. The small boy who initially greeted us then handed the candy back to Sister Snow, gesturing for her to unwrap it. With a heavy heart, Phyllis did so, fully expecting the boy to pop the butterscotch candy into his mouth in full view of his envious friends.
Instead, to our great surprise, he went to each of his friends, who stuck out their tongues and received one delicious lick of the butterscotch candy. The young boy continued around the circle, occasionally taking his own lick, until the candy was gone.
Now, one can argue the lack of sanitation with this gesture of sharing, but no one can dispute the example set by this young boy. Unselfishness, sharing, and giving are essential to service. This child learned that lesson well.
It is my hope and prayer we can all do more in giving service. If we fail to serve, we fail to receive the fulness of the privileges and blessings of the restored gospel. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

I grew up in a comfortable environment in Logan, Utah. I had no childhood worries about food or shelter or education. But perhaps because life was easy, I needed something to hold on to that would anchor me.
For me that anchor was the priesthood of God. I was in an unusual situation when I was growing up. My dad was called to be the bishop when I was a year old, and he was my bishop for 19 years. His fatherly and spiritual guidance was a tremendous help to me.
I think that is mostly why I looked forward to receiving the Aaronic Priesthood on my 12th birthday. I remember the special day I felt my father’s hands on my head as he ordained me. After that, I advanced through the offices of the Aaronic Priesthood and received callings I enjoyed very much.
Passing the sacrament was very special to me. You could see people commit themselves to obey the Lord and keep His commandments as they partook of the emblems of His body and blood.
As time progressed, I graduated from high school, and then after a year in college, I was called on a mission. I enjoyed every minute of it and loved my companions. One in particular was a strength to me. I learned much from him as we fulfilled our responsibilities.
Because the country was at war, when I returned from my mission I joined the United States Marine Corps. When the war was over, I returned to college, married, and started a family. Successive professional moves took me to many places across the United States, where I learned much as I served in many priesthood callings. I finally landed in Boston, Massachusetts, where I served as a stake president. It was from there that I was called to be an assistant to the Twelve and then, after 17 months, to the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles.
What have I learned as a member of the Quorum of the Twelve?
I’ve learned that there is a guide, an anchor, and a protection in the priesthood.
The priesthood has always existed. Before Adam came to earth, he had the priesthood. As Adam’s posterity scattered with the priesthood, it became necessary to organize how the priesthood was administered. The Lord did that by calling Abraham to preside over his family of priesthood holders. This organization continued under Isaac and Jacob, whose name was later changed to Israel.
Centuries later, the children of Israel found themselves in captivity. The Lord sent Moses to deliver them, but when he did, they proved themselves not ready as a people for the Melchizedek Priesthood. So they were left with the Aaronic Priesthood until the time of the Savior.
I find it very interesting what the Savior did first as He began His ministry. He organized the Melchizedek Priesthood. He called twelve Apostles and taught them the laws and order of the priesthood. He called Peter to be the chief Apostle, establishing a line of authority in His Church. In that day and this, it is Jesus Christ who selects His chief Apostle to preside over the Church, and it is the Savior who directs him in his priesthood duties.
So the priesthood has a direct line from our Lord and Savior through the chief Apostle to the other Apostles and on to the other priesthood holders in the Church. Keys of authority are given to the Apostles, and as long as those keys are on the earth, we will be guided by the Lord Himself. This divine direction protects us and assures us that the Church will not vary from the truth. It will remain consistent because it is not directed by any earthly being. It is directed by the Lord.
The greatest advice I have for you young men is to study the doctrines of the priesthood, understand the power you have in exercising your priesthood, and learn how it can bless your lives and the lives of others.
I promise if you’ll learn the doctrines of the priesthood and fulfill your priesthood duties, the priesthood will be a sure anchor that will keep you spiritually safe and bring you great joy. Be a true priesthood quorum. Reach out to your friends and bring them into your quorum. Create a brotherhood in your quorum that will be a permanent foundation for your lives.