Gospel Story Finder

We need not worry about knowing the right thing to say or do when we get there. The love of God and the Holy Spirit may be enough. When I was a young man I feared that I would not know what to do or to say to people in great need.

Once I was at the hospital bedside of my father as he seemed near death. I heard a commotion among the nurses in the hallway. Suddenly, President Spencer W. Kimball walked into the room and sat in a chair on the opposite side of the bed from me. I thought to myself, “Now here is my chance to watch and listen to a master at going to those in pain and suffering.”

President Kimball said a few words of greeting, asked my father if he had received a priesthood blessing, and then, when Dad said that he had, the prophet sat back in his chair.

I waited for a demonstration of the comforting skills I felt I lacked and so much needed. After perhaps five minutes of watching the two of them simply smiling silently at each other, I saw President Kimball rise and say, “Henry, I think I’ll go before we tire you.”

I thought I had missed the lesson, but it came later. In a quiet moment with Dad after he recovered enough to go home, our conversation turned to the visit by President Kimball. Dad said quietly, “Of all the visits I had, that visit I had from him lifted my spirits the most.”

President Kimball didn’t speak many words of comfort, at least that I could hear, but he went with the Spirit of the Lord as his companion to give the comfort. I realize now that he was demonstrating the lesson President Monson taught: “How does one magnify a calling? Simply by performing the service that pertains to it.”

Brother Michael Kagle took a convoy of trucks loaded with equipment from his own company to Mississippi. Many employees, who are not of our faith, volunteered to go with him every weekend to give assistance in the storm-stricken areas. Walkie-talkies were used for communication along the way. Mike’s high priests group leader, while driving along with them in his pickup truck, said he had white knuckles from driving so fast. Trying to slow the convoy down, he got on the walkie-talkie and said, “Gentlemen, do you realize we are going 80 miles per hour?” One of the truck drivers came on and said, “Well, you have to understand that’s all these big trucks will do. We can’t go any faster.” Hundreds of letters of gratitude have been received. One woman, a nurse from Mississippi, wrote: “I was speechless. Had God answered my prayers so quickly? Tears immediately began to roll down my cheeks as men in hard hats and boots, with chain saws of all shapes and sizes, appeared out of the debris. It was absolutely, unequivocally, one of the most supreme sacrifices that has ever happened to me personally.”

When President George Albert Smith was a boy, he had an experience that changed his life. He wrote:
“As a child, thirteen years of age, I went to school at the Brigham Young Academy. … I cannot remember much of what was said during the year that I was there, but there is one thing that I will probably never forget. … Dr. Karl G. Maeser one day stood up and said, ‘Not only will you be held accountable for the things you do, but you will be held responsible for the very thoughts you think.’
“Being a boy, not in the habit of controlling my thoughts very much, it was quite a puzzle to me what I was to do, and it worried me. About a week or ten days after that I suddenly understood what he meant: You will be held accountable for your thoughts, because when your life is completed in mortality, it will be the sum of your thoughts. That one suggestion has been a great blessing to me all my life, and it has helped me on many occasions to avoid improper thoughts, because I realize that when my life is over I will be the product of my thoughts.” (Sharing the Gospel with Others [Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 1948], pages 62–63).

As President Cowley’s traveling companion in the mission field, I received instructions from him to keep my briefcase packed with a couple of changes of clothing. He said, “When I say ‘We’re going,’ you grab your bag, start the car, and don’t ask any questions.”

When that would happen, I would grab my bag and go to the car. Being a young, eager missionary, I often wondered where we were going; but I didn’t ask.

Once, after we had driven a few kilometers, he asked, “Would you like to know where we’re going?”

I said, “Yes.”

Then he said, “So would I! I’m not sure just where we’re going, but we’ll keep going; and when the Lord tells us to turn, we’ll turn, and we’ll end up where He wants us to be.”

When I was elected junior class vice president of Edgemont High School, I wasn’t just surprised, I was in temporary shock. I had entered the race at the last minute for the experience. At least that’s what I had told myself. When I actually won, it seemed impossible, incredible! What seemed even more incredible was that I had apparently won by a landslide. At least that’s what Molly Pratt claimed.
“Boy, Mark, are you ever popular. You got almost every vote. I helped count them.”
I shook my head for the hundredth time. “I just can’t believe it. It’s incredible.”
“Not really,” Molly said smiling.
Although I couldn’t figure out how it had all happened, I did know one thing: I planned to do a good job—a great job. I didn’t want anyone to think he’d made a mistake by voting for Mark Bennion.
Just a few days after I’d talked to Molly, I was standing by my locker cleaning out some of the election handouts when I heard a soft voice behind me. I knew whose voice it was even before I turned around. Although she was in my history class, Rhonda Jackson had never spoken to me before, and I could feel my face getting warm. Up close she was even prettier than at a two-row distance. A sprinkle of small, delicate freckles peppered her nose, and her warm smile made me quiver.
“Oh, hi,” I said, trying to sound casual but sounding more as if I had just swallowed a baseball.
“We’re having a little get-together at my place tomorrow night,” she said. “We’re going to study for the history test. Well, just for a little while. Then we’ll have some fun. You know, talk a little, dance or something.” She touched my arm lightly with her forefinger. “Would you like to join our group?”
“I, uh, I can’t think of any reason why I couldn’t. Yes, sure.” I knew about her little group. Who didn’t? It was the elite group at Edgemont. The thought of being included seemed unreal. Just last week I had thought of myself as a Joe-average with just a few friends, like the guys I palled around with in the neighborhood. Now hundreds of students seemed to know me and find me important. And I had a chance, a real chance, to belong to the most exclusive group at school.
“Oh, by the way,” Rhonda smiled again and looked straight into my eyes. “We’ve got a copy of the test so you won’t need to bring your book. We’re just going to memorize the answers. We’ll probably be able to get copies of some of the other tests coming up, too.”
“Oh?” Her words hit me like a thud. “How did …”
“Don’t ask.” She put her hand over my mouth and giggled softly. “Let’s just say we have connections. See you tomorrow night.”
I watched her walk away. She turned and smiled, fully aware that I was staring after her. Wow, she was beautiful. I sighed. “Too bad.”
The next day I was prepared to tell Rhonda that I couldn’t make it to the get-together. I couldn’t afford to go and then make a fool of myself by being a goody-two-shoes and refusing to participate in the cheating. I wouldn’t say the word cheating or make any accusations. But when I saw her walking toward me with that appealing smile, the brave words began slipping from my mind. I wanted her to like me. Oh, how I wanted Rhonda Jackson to like me.
“You’re coming tonight, I hope,” she said, emphasizing the words “I hope.” There was a nice lilt to her voice.
“Well, I’d really like to, but …
“I’d really be disappointed if you didn’t come. You’ve just got to come. Everybody’s going to be there. Bill Spilker, Audrey Madsen, Nicki Simmons, and Frank, you know, Frank Lake. They’re all going to be there, and you really should get to know all of us better.” The names she had mentioned were familiar to me—familiar to everyone at Edgemont. They were the officers of the school, the “in-group” of in-groups.
“I have a little secret to tell you,” Rhonda began whispering in a confidential manner. “Frank said something about you.”
“What was that?” I asked, impressed that my name had even come up in conversation. Frank was the student-body vice president.
“He thinks if you play your cards right you could be president of the school.”
“Oh, sure.” I felt myself blushing in pleasure.
“You don’t know how popular you are, do you, Mark? You have a lot of power already. A little more, some friends in the right circles, for instance, could put the presidency right in your pocket.”
“You really think so?”
She looked down dramatically, then up into my eyes. “Believe me, I know so. See you tonight about eight or eight-thirty.”
As I watched her walk away I stood grinning. Again I sighed.
Come on, I thought. Me, president of the whole student body? Me, in Rhonda Jackson’s league? This is all too incredible. I shook my head. “Nah,” I said out loud. But then I began wondering. With some friends in the right circles, maybe—just maybe—it wasn’t so farfetched. I had won junior class vice president by a landslide. Maybe further miracles were also possible. I’ve been pretty naive, I thought. There are probably a lot of things going on in this school that I know nothing about. Everyone probably cheats once in a while to keep up the old grade-point average.
In my mind, I went over the people Rhonda had mentioned would be at her house. Slowly it began registering that everyone was matched up—except Rhonda. My face grew warm again. Could it be Rhonda had me in mind for herself? “Impossible!” My stomach did a backflip, and I walked to my locker to get rid of my history book. I wouldn’t need it tonight!
Later in the day, while I was on my way to study class, I passed my last year’s history classroom. Mr. Hancock was just closing the door to his room. As I nodded a hello, he motioned that he wanted to talk to me.
“What can I do for you?” I asked.
“I’m glad you walked by, Mark. An interesting thing happened that I wanted to tell you about. Can you come in for a minute?”
“Sure thing.” As I sat down by his desk, I looked around at the pictures of some of the presidents and other historical figures I could remember learning about in his class. My sophomore year in Mr. Hancock’s class had been quite the year for hero worship.
“I don’t know if this will mean anything to you,” he said. “But I thought you should know.”
“What’s up?” I asked. “What happened?” I was curious now.
“Well, a few days ago I gave a test, and my last question was ‘What great person, living or dead, would you most like to use as an example in your own life?’ I mostly got the kind of answers I was expecting: Abraham Lincoln, George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Ben Franklin; but a most peculiar thing happened.”
“Oh?”
“One of the boys put your name.”
“My name?” I was confused. “Why would he do that?”
“I guess he thinks you’re a ‘great man,’” he said, smiling. “Thought you might want to know.”
“That’s incredible,” I said, staring at him.
“Glad it makes a difference to you. You’ve been getting quite a bit of attention lately, and I wasn’t sure you’d care; but, well, I thought I’d tell you.”
I nodded and kept staring. Then I looked around the room and nodded again. There was a knot beginning to form in my stomach. “It makes a difference,” I said. “Thanks, Mr. Hancock.”
“Good to talk to you, Mark, and good luck to you.”
“Thanks again,” I said. I felt two feet taller as I headed toward the door. Without hesitation I turned down the hall in the direction of my locker. I had a history book to retrieve and some hard and fast studying to do. People were counting on me, wanted to be like me. There was no way I was going to let them down!

I had the honor of spending time with two of the older sisters of the Curaçao Branch, and these are their stories:
Sister Eligia Schoop
Sister Eligia Schoop, 83, is one of the pioneers of the Church on the island. She has been a member for 34 years, and she tells us that thanks to the gospel, she was able to develop many skills to help those in need.
She is a sister who, despite her advanced age, her health problems, and how far she lives from the chapel, makes her best effort to attend every Sunday with her husband, Romulo Schoop, 83, and renew their covenants.
Since 1972, she has been an active member of the Scouts. With 50 years of being a Scout, she has had the opportunity to help and guide many children who are experiencing problems at home or at school. She is the oldest Scout from the islands of Curaçao, Aruba, Bonaire, Saba, and St. Eustatius.
One of the experiences that she remembers with great affection is that of her grandson: “In the Scouts I had the opportunity to help my grandson who was teased a lot at school because of his weight. I was always trying to talk to him and get him to open up to me.
“With so many negative comments and the mistreatment that he received from his classmates, he didn’t want to be part of the Scouts anymore. I was always looking out for him, and I advised him that despite everything bad that people can say to you or how bad people can try to make you feel, it is you who has to know who you are and what you are worth. The boy continued in the Scouts and still remembers with great love how his grandmother supported him in one of the most difficult moments of his childhood.”
She tells us that, at her advanced age, she seeks to contribute to the Church and one of those ways is by inviting the missionaries to eat whenever possible.
Eligia tells us: “Whatever I cook, they love it. I love to see young people willing to put their lives aside to bring to light souls that need the gospel, it is admirable”.
This 74-year-old sister is joy personified. Having been a member for 30 years, she remembers Decembers in a very special way. She recounts: “On Christmas Eve, we make a dinner within our means. I take care of the soup, my daughter, Arlene, makes the salad, and so on. We invite the neighbors, who also bring food. We set up tables and chairs in my daughter’s garden and sit together for dinner. It is very comforting to share how little or how much you have with others.
She recalls: “My husband was in a car accident, he lost a leg, his spinal cord was damaged, and he was unable to walk again. From his wheelchair, he prepared the ham for Christmas dinner and put it in the oven. He was a very independent man and loved helping others. He was president of the Curaçao Branch for eight years, and many fondly remember his service in the church. Despite his own difficulties, he tried to focus on how to help others with their personal challenges. He passed away in 2006.”
This sister is well known in the Curaçao branch for her delicious soups. There is not an activity that Sister Eugenia attends that she does not bring soup. It is her way of contributing, and she feels very happy to see others enjoy what she makes.
These two beautiful sisters have strong testimonies of the gospel of Jesus Christ. Through Him, they have been able to overcome trials, feel comfort, and comfort others in their pain. They are examples that, no matter how young or old you are, if you want to help, however small that help is, it makes a difference and means a lot to the Lord.

I was still a deacon when our family moved to a large ward in Utah. It was the first time I had felt the power of a full quorum in the Aaronic Priesthood. In fact, it was the first time I saw one. And later it was the first time I felt the power and the blessing of a bishop presiding in a priests quorum.

The bishop called me to be his first assistant in the priests quorum. I remember that he taught the quorum himself—busy as he was, with other gifted men whom he could have called to teach us. He had the chairs in the classroom arranged in a circle. He had me sit in the chair next to him, to his right.

I could look over his shoulder as he taught. He looked down occasionally at the carefully typed notes in the little leather binder on one knee and at the well-worn and marked scriptures he had open on the other knee. I can remember the thrill as he recounted the stories of bravery from the book of Daniel and his testimony of the Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ.

I will always remember how the Lord calls companions carefully chosen for his priesthood holders in preparation.

My bishop had powerful counselors, and for reasons I did not understand then, more than once he called me on the phone at home and said, “Hal, I need you to go with me as a companion to make some visits.” Once, it was to take me with him to the home of a widow living alone and without any food in the house. On the way home he stopped his car, opened his scriptures, and told me why he had treated that widow as if she had the power not only to care for herself but would, at some time in the future, be able to help others.

Another visit was to a man long absent from the Church. My bishop invited him back to be with the Saints. I felt my bishop’s love for someone who seemed to me an unlovable and rebellious enemy.

On yet another occasion we visited a home where two little girls were sent to meet us at the door by their alcoholic parents. The little girls said through the screen door that their mother and father were asleep. The bishop kept talking to them, smiling and praising their goodness and their bravery, for what seemed to me 10 minutes or more. As I walked away at his side, he said quietly, “That was a good visit. Those little girls will never forget that we came.”

Two of the blessings that a senior priesthood companion can give are trust and an example of caring. I saw that when my son was given a home teaching companion who had vastly more priesthood experience than he did. His senior companion had been a mission president twice and had served in other leadership positions.

Before they were to visit one of their assigned families, that seasoned priesthood leader asked to visit my son in our home beforehand. They allowed me to listen. The senior companion opened with prayer, asking for help. Then he said something like this to my son: “I think we should teach a lesson that will sound to this family like a call to repentance. I think they won’t take it very well from me. I think they would take the message better from you. How do you feel about that?”

I remember the terror in my son’s eyes. I can still feel the happiness of that moment when my son accepted the trust.

It was not by accident that the bishop put that companionship together. It was by careful preparation that the senior companion had learned about the feelings of that family they were about to teach. It was by inspiration that he felt to step back, to trust an inexperienced youth to call older children of God to repentance and to safety.

I don’t know the outcome of their visit, but I do know that a bishop, a Melchizedek Priesthood holder, and the Lord were preparing a boy to be a priesthood man and someday a bishop.

Such was the case with a young man just two weeks ago. He came in; he was tall, he was dark, he was a nice-looking man, and as I looked at him I thought, “Here’s someone who could be without troubles.” He looked happy, he appeared strong and well kept, and he looked like he had the confidence of a man who knew where he was going. I asked him, “Will you please tell me about your life?” He did. He told me that he was a convert to the Church of just six years. He was twenty-three years of age. His introduction to the Church had come about after a life of some trouble and turmoil, but he met a special young lady—you know how that is; it changes your whole life, doesn’t it? Well, that is what happened to him. He met a young lady who had some standards that he had not been keeping himself but which he admired. The more he came to know her, the more he realized that the reason he so admired her was that she held to these standards of morality, of good conscience, of industry and concern. And the more he realized why he admired her, the more he wanted to find out about her source of strength. She told him that her source of strength was the gospel of Jesus Christ as taught in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He began to listen, and he began to change his life. He joined the Church.

After he had joined the Church, she left the town in which they lived and came to Brigham Young University. He decided that if she were going to come here he ought to, too, and so he followed. When he arrived here, he said he thought, “Oh, boy! Look at the field!” He could hardly believe what he saw. “I could see that I could date any one of thousands of young ladies and be perfectly safe.”

”Now, what do you mean, safe?” I asked.

”Well,” he said, “the young ladies I had been dating before were not safe for me to be with. Their standards were not what they should be and did not help me. Oh, how delighted I was to enter BYU!”

Well, for the first half of the semester his hopes and dreams were realized, and then he met a young lady on this campus who was seemingly a strong member of the Church. On the first date, though, he discovered that she was much like girls he had known before, and he found himself slipping, sliding, falling, until he had reverted to an earlier immoral behavior. He said, “Brother Pinegar, I couldn’t believe it; I couldn’t understand it. I thought everyone at BYU held to the standards of the gospel—why didn’t she? I felt I would be protected from my former self. Doesn’t everyone at BYU have the relationship with Christ that this first girl I knew had?”

”You’ll have to answer that,” I replied.

”Well,” he said, “I discovered that I could find on the campus what evil I was looking for, and so I left the campus to protect myself. I returned home. It took me two years before I felt strong enough to come back to Brigham Young University.”

I commented, “That’s really an indictment against a great and marvelous student body.”

”Oh, don’t get me wrong. I understand that they’re not all the way this girl was, but,” he said, “I had expected more.” Then he said something that I felt was very profound. “I expected my strength to come from others. I began to realize that if anyone was going to help me it would have to be myself. If I expected anyone to have a relationship with Christ that protected me from the sins of the world, it would have to be me. I discovered there were those on the BYU campus who could help me become strong and help me develop a personal relationship with Christ, such a relationship as would bring me strength of testimony, power of decision, and firmness of commitment.” He developed such a relationship here at BYU, and that was why he was in my office. He said, “I feel now that I am prepared; I am ready to go on a mission, if the Lord will have me.” Well, after our discussion and prayerful consideration, it was my feeling, even my knowledge, that the Lord would have him; and today he is awaiting his call.

Then everything changed.
The whole world transformed overnight.
I’d reached the lowest point in my life. Nothing but a profound spiritual experience could change me. I knew deep down that I was meant to be doing more in life. And I’d finally become so desperate that I was open to the truth that perhaps God did live. I didn’t know anything about Him, but I started seeking His guidance. I searched desperately for a sign of His hand in my life. Then, suddenly, He answered, and I was catapulted into a world I’d never known.
My world came together in such an orchestrated fashion and guided me to exactly where I needed to be. Strangers, family, friends—everyone and everything—seemed to be sending me messages of love, concern, and support all at once. I started to notice a sensation in my chest: a wonderful burning feeling. And along with that feeling, I was witnessing a love that was completely new to me.
The love of God.
I really didn’t know what the feeling was or where it had come from at first. I just knew it didn’t come from me and that it was better than anything I had felt. It wasn’t until later while talking with my family that I really understood that I was experiencing a connection with Heavenly Father through the power of the Holy Ghost.
My reality suddenly changed from a dull gray to full color. And it was difficult to adjust. I knew God was real. But what did this mean? For at least a month, I would break down sobbing throughout each day. The new beauty of life I was seeing was forcing me to face the unbelievably ugly way I’d lived for years. I’d been so engulfed by hatred, and now I was witnessing the deepest love I’d ever seen. A love that struck me to my core. Life had become more beautiful than I’d ever imagined it could be. I knew God was calling me. He wanted me to seek a better life. And I was finally ready to answer Him.

It wasn’t enough for institute students in Manila, Philippines, to just learn the gospel—they wanted to 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 free time to rehearse and perform. But they said it was worth it to see the audience reaction—some were moved to tears. The group toured Metro Manila and the nearby provinces with their variety show. “All our efforts were rewarded by the wonderful feelings we’ve had,” said one participant.

It was Halloween, and I was sick. While all my friends were hoarding and consuming pounds of candy, I was giving myself insulin shots, munching on set amounts of sugar-free candy, and moaning because I could no longer eat my favorite candy bar. My life as a 10-year-old couldn’t have been worse. But now, 12 years later, I realize it couldn’t have been any better.
On 10 October 1991 I stared blankly at my doctor when he said, “You have type 1 diabetes.” He didn’t say, “You have a virus that will go away in a week” or “Here are some antibiotics for your infection.” He was telling me I had diabetes and that I would have it for the rest of my life.
That very moment my life changed forever. I went from barely thinking about what I ate to giving myself shots, testing my blood-sugar levels, and eating limited foods in limited amounts. I quickly learned that everything from exercise to stress affected my blood sugar, and I couldn’t go anywhere or do anything without monitoring it. I had to be responsible 100 percent of the time, a skill that didn’t come quickly.
But behind all of the physical tasks, I found something deeply spiritual. I found that when I was obedient, I was blessed. Whether I chose to indulge in double-fudge brownies instead of sugar-free pudding had effects that could last up to five or more hours and eventually five or more years. I soon learned that by sticking to short-term restrictions, I was freed from long-term complications. I felt more awake and energetic, and my confidence even increased as I chose to make wise decisions regarding my health.
Because type 1 diabetics only make up about 0.3 percent of the population in the United States, it’s easy to feel alone. But there are many in the Church who are pulling through, anchoring themselves in the gospel, and finding joy in the journey they call diabetes. I know, because I talked with a few of them.
Chris had a hard time with his diabetes when he was a teenager. Living the lifestyle of a teenager—eating out at 2:00 a.m., having a crazy sleep schedule—was hard on his body. For most of his teenage years, he tried to deny that he even had a disease.
At college, a good friend helped Chris make some big changes in his physical and spiritual health. “Up to that point,” Chris says, “I had never really taken the gospel or my life seriously. As I started to read the Book of Mormon for the first time, I felt my whole life changing. Not only did I feel the enlightening effects come into my life that one feels when reading the Book of Mormon, but I also started to feel more concern for my body and my life.”
Chris says his decision to read the Book of Mormon led to other decisions that helped him become healthier. For the first time in his life, he started testing his blood-sugar level not just several times a week like he used to, but several times a day. He says, “I began to feel so much better as I started to take care of myself.”
After Chris finished reading the Book of Mormon and received an answer that it is true, he decided to serve a mission. “Serving a mission can be tough,” Chris says. “Every day brought something new for me and my diabetes to try and conquer.” But he believes the Lord blessed him to maintain control. “Constant fluctuations in schedules, modes of transportation, and eating would lead most diabetics to out-of-control blood sugars, but the Lord was watching over me as I served my mission.” Since Chris started taking better care of himself, his health has been almost perfect.
Chris is grateful that he was not only able to serve a mission but that he was able to serve with all of his strength. “The work never suffered as a result of my having diabetes. I saw God’s hand in my missionary work every day, and I still see it now.”
For a girl who directs high school plays, sews costumes, memorizes Shakespeare, studies Russian, and performs on her school’s dance team, it’s a wonder she finds time to do anything else—especially take care of her diabetes. Adrienne was diagnosed with diabetes when she was 11, but she hasn’t let that get her down.
“There’s really no point in being sad about it,” Adrienne says, “because it’s not going to change it. You might as well make the best of the situation and do things a normal kid would do.” She makes sure to take care of herself physically and spiritually. She tries to do constructive things that make her happy. “If you do all you can, pray, and have faith in Heavenly Father,” she says, “then He’ll help you accomplish the rest.”
Adrienne has been a resource to many around her. Before moving to Utah, she was asked to teach a class on diabetes at a science museum in Minnesota. “It’s fun being able to bring something exciting out of a trial like this,” she says.
She’s also discovered that the gospel is a strength. “The Savior went through a lot more than I did. And I know that He always understands. You try your hardest, and if that’s all you can do, then don’t stress.”
Fourteen-year-old Matt Anderson from Bountiful, Utah, is one tough character to shake. Matt was diagnosed with diabetes on a Saturday. He spoke in church the next day. His mom explains, “When the bishop called and asked if Matt still wanted to speak, Matt’s reply was, ‘Sure, Bishop, it’s already written!’” Matt’s talk was on gratitude.
Matt’s positive attitude and strong testimony of the gospel are anchors in his life. “Now I’m just thankful for every day,” he says. “I’m thankful for the power of prayer.”
After receiving a blessing in the hospital, he remembers waking up during the night. “The hospital was all quiet, and I felt this real peace come over me. A true peace. And I wasn’t scared.” Matt says the priesthood blessing gave him strength to give himself shots and to start testing his blood-sugar level.
“This trial has been a blessing in my life,” Matt says. “It has made me conscious of the gospel more than ever. It has brought me closer to my mom and dad and my sister. I play sports just as much as I did before, and I’m still really close to my friends. I know we have trials for a reason.”
Emily had just returned from a choir tour with BYU–Idaho’s Vocal Union and was planning on spending some time at home in Colorado. “During the trip I just didn’t feel myself,” Emily says. “I was so thirsty. I was drinking at least 20 glasses of water every day, and I was wondering what was wrong. After I was hospitalized, they gave me insulin, and I thought, ‘I’m myself again!’”
Emily’s optimism, along with her family and new husband, has helped to keep her going. “I really try to focus on what I can eat rather than what I can’t, and then I’m fine,” she says.
“After I got home from the hospital I was so grateful not to be thirsty anymore,” Emily says. “Then I thought about Christ and how He is the Living Water. I realized that there are so many people who are so thirsty that they drink and drink, but it goes right through them. And I was so grateful to know that I have the living waters.”
People often ask me how I got diabetes. The truth is, no one really knows. I just believe it’s part of this earthly test. The Lord knew there was no better way for me to learn that sacrifice brings blessings, and self-discipline even greater freedom. I know that if we take care of what we have, the Lord will bless us even more. I have a testimony that this gospel is true and that it connects all that is physical to all that is spiritual. I have a testimony that it is through Jesus Christ, our Savior, that we are able to overcome all things. He, our Master, our Lord, and our Redeemer, is the Rock upon which we are sustained.

What is less well known but no less powerful is my mother’s love and testimony of the Book of Mormon. It is also not as well known that at an earlier time, she too came very close to dying and was brought back to life in a miraculous fashion, just like my father was two and a half years ago. Let me share this video with her testimony of how the Book of Mormon got her through a wilderness of near-death health challenges and what it has meant to her and to our family:
I leave with you my testimony of this wonderful book. Recently, during a near-fatal illness, I wanted Jeff and his priesthood to be with me constantly. Because he couldn’t always be at my side, I wanted the next best thing. I wanted my Book of Mormon in my hands, holding it. And when I slept, I wanted it under my pillow. With doctors telling us that I wasn’t going to make it, as they had done everything they could, and we should call our children, I knew if I did live, it would be because of the blessings and the truths that I have studied so many times in this gospel that the Book of Mormon teaches.

Nephi could raise his brother from the dead. I knew if God could do that that He could raise me as well. And He did, by the same apostolic faith and authority that the ancient Nephite prophet had.

I bear witness to you, brothers and sisters, that this book has given me life over and over again since I first read it as a young woman. It has given Jeff and me and our children a blueprint and the power to live peacefully and calmly and patiently with the brightness of the sun lighting the way, even the brightness of the Son of God.

I have a friend who one time went on a family outing to Yellowstone Park. While he was faithful to his commitments as a member and leader in the Church, some of his relatives tended to scoff at his “straitlaced” religious nature. They persuaded him, one Sunday morning, to go out in the boat fishing with them. Suddenly a strong wind arose, and they found themselves in such danger that they feared for their lives. The taunting and skepticism were suddenly gone. In plaintive unison they looked to my friend, saying, “Please, can’t you pray for us?” They evidently had little confidence in their own petitions or perhaps sensed their unworthiness to call for divine aid. The irony of the situation is that my friend, having been tempted against his better judgment to do something of which he felt the Lord would not approve, says of his predicament: “I had no prayer to offer. All I could think of was the headline in the newspaper saying, ‘Stake President Drowns While Fishing on Sunday.’”

In Nevada, USA, at a Boy Scout board of review for an Eagle Scout award, one young man made quite an impression. It wasn’t because of his achievements as a Scout. They were impressive, of course, but that’s what the men on the board of review expect of someone who has come that far in Scouting. No, it was something else that stood out—something that was missing.
One of the reviewers looked at this young man’s record and noticed that there was a three-year gap between his last rank advancement and his Eagle Scout board of review. He asked the young man what had happened.
The young man paused for a moment and then explained that shortly after he had received his Life Scout rank, his sister had died. In their grief, his family had drifted away from activity in the Church, and he had stopped participating in Scouts as well.
Taken off-guard by the young man’s straightforward answer, the reviewer then asked what had changed to make him so fully active today. The man almost cried when he heard the response.
“The guys came and got me.”
That was all. It was that simple.
The other members of his priests quorum had started visiting him at home and talking to him at school, asking him to come back and join with them. The young man said he could tell that they cared about him, and he felt good when he was with them.
So he had decided to come back.
Sitting in that board of review, this young man expressed gratitude that his quorum had not forgotten him and had gone out of their way to bring him back. They had even pushed him to complete his Eagle Scout project. Now he wanted to give back by helping and serving them too.
This young man was now on the path to receiving the Melchizedek Priesthood, receiving his temple endowment, and serving a full-time mission.
All because “the guys came and got me.”

Kristin bounced gently on her toes, bending forward, eyes narrowed. She jerked a little as Shannon, the tall, dark-haired girl on the other side of the net, tossed the tennis ball high and hit it with all her might. The ball went into the net, and Kristin relaxed, but only for an instant. She had to be ready for the second serve.
Kristin was moving as soon as Shannon’s racket hit the ball. This serve was good. It bounced just inside the outside corner of the service line. Stretching as she ran, Kristin managed to reach it with her backhand and return it low across the net.
Shannon, not expecting Kristin to return the serve, had relaxed. The ball passed her and landed on the baseline. Kristin smiled with satisfaction.
“Out,” Shannon called.
There was a murmur from the spectators lounging on the grassy slope under the shade of a cottonwood tree.
Kristin stared at her. “What?” she questioned, her satisfaction turning to disbelief. It was an important point because if Kristin lost it, Shannon would win the second set.
“It was out,” Shannon repeated. “My game and set.”
The girls went to benches on opposite sides of the court for a short break before the third set.
Kristin reached for her water jug and took several cool swallows before sloshing some water onto a towel. She pushed back her damp brown curls and wiped her face and neck, then glanced toward the small group of spectators. Her mom and dad waved.
“Hang in there!” Dad called.
She waved back and smiled, closed her eyes, and tried to relax. But her thoughts weren’t restful. She and Shannon were playing the final match in the Pineview Junior Championship for twelve year olds. The winner would receive a new tennis racket, and Shannon had told all her friends that her mom had promised her a new tennis outfit, too, if she won.
Kristin’s dad had just smiled and shaken his head when she’d suggested that he might do the same for her. “No, Kris,” he had said seriously. “We wouldn’t want to make the stakes so high that you lose sight of the game. You just do the best that you can, as you always do, and have a good time, as you always do.”
“But, Dad—”
He had interrupted her protest with a hug. “If you don’t enjoy the game, don’t play it. I’m not going to bribe you.”
“Oh, Dad!” She had been annoyed and a little angry. Why can’t my parents be more like Shannon’s? she wondered.
Kristin loved playing tennis, and she enjoyed playing against someone good, like Shannon, because she knew that it brought out the best in her own game. But she wanted it to be a fair contest. Earlier in the match, she’d thought that Shannon had made a bad call, but it was hard to tell from across the court, so she had shrugged it off. This last point, though, she knew was good, and the spectators knew it too! Still, it’s a player’s responsibility to make the calls unless there are linesmen at courtside. But that had really been an important point—especially for Shannon. Since Kristin had won the first set, if she had won the second, the match would have been over. This way, Shannon still had a chance.
Instead of relaxing, Kristin was getting angrier just thinking about that last point.
“Ready?” Shannon called.
Kristin nodded, and they returned to the court.
As with the first two sets, the third one was close. The girls fought for every point, and neither could get a comfortable lead. With the game score at 3–3, Kristin hit a hard drive toward the baseline that looked good to her. Shannon called it out. The anger that had been building up since the rest break made Kristin so careless that she muffed the next two points, giving Shannon a comfortable lead on that game.
As she bounced the ball and prepared to serve for the next point, Kristin looked at Shannon. Shannon was looking nervous but pleased.
Kristin thought about Shannon’s expression as she bounced the ball one last time before serving. It was another hard-fought point. But the game ended when Shannon skimmed one over the net at a difficult-to-retrieve angle. Kristin scrambled for the ball but couldn’t get to it. The ball landed right on the line at a place where it was difficult for Shannon to see. Kristin, still angry, had raised her hand to signal it out, when suddenly she understood what her dad had meant about losing sight of the game. She also understood that look on Shannon’s face.
Tennis rules state that if a ball touches a line, the shot is good. If there’s a question about the shot, the players’ code of sportsmanlike behavior says to let the questioning opponent have the point.
“Your point,” Kristin called. The point made it Shannon’s game for a score of 4–3.
Surprisingly relaxed now, as though some important crisis were over, Kristin enjoyed the rest of the match, even though Shannon made another questionable call.
It was close all the way, but after three long sets, Shannon drove home the match point with a beautiful passing shot. She had won the championship. And the new racket. And the new tennis outfit.
The girls met at the net to shake hands.
“Good match,” Shannon said automatically.
“Yes. I always learn a lot when I play against you,” Kristin told her. “I hope you enjoy your new stuff. See you later.”
“Thanks.” Shannon looked a little embarrassed.
Kristin turned away to see her parents waiting at the edge of the court.
“You played very well,” her mother said.
“Tough loss, Kris,” said her dad, “but you played like a champ.”
They walked away arm in arm. Kristin looked back at Shannon, who was walking to the tournament desk to report her win.
“You know, I feel like a champ,” Kristin said. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Can you come and help?”
It’s a question Gerald and Lorna Malmrose of Washington, USA, had answered before. They said yes when their former bishop, then a mission president, asked if they could serve with him in the West Indies. They said yes again when their stake president called them to fulfill a service mission at Church headquarters in Salt Lake City, Utah, USA, working with computers and human resources.
When their former bishop and mission president, Reid Robison, called again, this time as president of the missionary training center in Accra, Ghana, he asked if the Malmroses would help once again.
“We knew we could trust the Lord,” Elder Malmrose says. “So we decided to trust Him again.” They said yes, completed their recommendation forms, received their call, and soon were in Ghana.
The Malmroses’ experiences demonstrate some principles about senior couples serving missions that may not be widely understood:
There are two types of missions. (1) The President of the Church calls senior couples to serve either from their own home or away from home. (2) A stake president calls Church-service missionary couples to fill local or regional needs part-time, from 8 to 32 hours per week. They usually live and serve locally but sometimes may serve away from home.
Mission presidents are encouraged to find couples who can meet needs in their mission, and couples may indicate their preferences. “We’re not saying that couples can pick and choose their own missionary assignments,” explained Elder Jeffrey R. Holland of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. “A call is still a call. … [But] we talk to our senior couples about their service preferences, and every consideration is given to letting them serve where and how they want to serve.”1
Mission presidents counsel with couples about how to best use their skills and abilities. “To have the most meaningful experience as a senior couple,” President Robison says, “you need to have the opportunity to work both in areas you’re passionate about and where you have a skill level that makes you feel you have something to offer.”
For example, President Robison knew that Elder Malmrose speaks French, helpful because many Africans speak French. “I had envisioned him being involved in travel and working on visas,” President Robison says. “But when he got here, I sensed that wasn’t his true interest. So I invited him to use his computer skills. He has saved us hours and hours.” Elder Malmrose also helps missionaries, especially French-speaking missionaries, prepare names and do temple work for their families. Sister Malmrose, a certified medical assistant, was assigned to work with the mission doctor and nurse.
Like the Malmroses, other couples find that when they trust the Lord, He prepares the way. That’s what happened for Alvin and Corazon Rieta of Kawit, Cavite, in the Philippines.
“Two years prior to our decision to serve, we began putting into place firm plans for our family business,” Elder Rieta explains. “Our son and daughter had graduated from college and could take over for us, but we wondered who would solve business problems and how our clients would react to our plans.”
Sister Rieta was also concerned about leaving her aging mother. “I was afraid we might lose her while we were away,” she says. “I also felt unequal to the challenge of teaching the gospel.”
They counseled with their bishop and with a couple who had recently served in Davao. “All of them bore strong testimonies that the Lord would guide each couple to know how to deal with their affairs at home, their family, and the funds for their mission,” Sister Rieta says.
“As we sought guidance,” Elder Rieta says, “our fears were addressed—our business went well in spite of challenges, our clients expressed joy and support, and our family drew closer together in taking care of our sick mother. We began to understand that the Lord truly would help us.”
The Rietas now serve in member and leadership support in the Philippines Cagayan de Oro Mission.
Some couples wonder about physical limitations, but not Keith and Jennilyn Mauerman of Utah, USA. Years ago, four months after they were married in the Los Angeles California Temple, Keith was drafted and sent into combat. An airborne squad leader, he was walking ahead of the other soldiers when a land mine exploded. He lost both legs. When he arrived back home, Jennilyn rushed to his side.
“I knew I didn’t have to worry,” Keith says, “because we have an eternal marriage. My wife has supported me all along. She still sustains me every day.”
When Sister Mauerman retired, they decided to serve a mission. But would Elder Mauerman’s being a double amputee cause a problem? “There are always things I can’t do,” he says, “but there are so many things I can do, we knew there would be a place for us.”
While completing their recommendation forms, he checked a box indicating he had served in the military. Soon they received a call from Church Military Relations. “I had an ID card that would allow us to enter military bases, so they asked our permission to recommend us for a military relations mission.”
The Mauermans were called to serve at a military base in North Carolina, USA. Elder Mauerman recalls: “The sign at the gate said ‘Fort Bragg, Home of the Airborne.’ When the guard greeted us with the airborne motto ‘All the Way!’ it was the first time I had heard it in years. It felt like home, even though I had never been to Fort Bragg. I knew our mission call was a perfect fit and that the Lord is mindful of me.”
“We taught lessons about becoming self-reliant and resilient and about strengthening marriage,” Sister Mauerman says. “Initially we didn’t want to share our story, but we found that sharing it made all the difference. Soldiers and their spouses looked at us and said, ‘If you can do it, we can too.’”
The Mauermans had such a positive experience in North Carolina that they asked to serve again. Today they travel about 40 miles (64 km) from their home in Orem to Salt Lake City two times a week to serve in the Church Military Relations office. They also teach senior couples at the missionary training center in Provo, where they find that just about every group includes somebody who has overcome obstacles in order to serve.
Called to the Brazil Cuiabá Mission, Randy and Lou Ellen Romrell of Utah were concerned. Although Elder Romrell had served in Brazil as a young missionary, he’d let his Portuguese slip. And Sister Romrell didn’t know Portuguese. Study and effort, however, helped Elder Romrell’s Portuguese skills to return and Sister Romrell’s to grow. So did a ukulele.
“I wasn’t really planning to bring it,” Sister Romrell says, “but Elder Romrell was inspired to, and it’s amazing to see what it’s done. As we teach investigators and work on reactivation and fellowship, it’s fun to use it to get people to sing hymns. We learn the language, and the hymns bring a strong spirit with them.”
Even though her Portuguese skills are still developing, she is already fluent in music. “Music brings people together,” she says. “Even if I can’t understand everything they say during a visit, when we sing, we connect.” Invited to speak in schools about the American holiday of Thanksgiving, the Romrells sang hymns of gratitude—accompanied by ukulele. And Sister Romrell also uses a more conventional instrument, the piano, to accompany hymns at church.
And Portuguese? “Even if you’re not fluent, learning just a few words helps,” she says. “Simply saying hello and greeting people goes a long way. Let them know you’re learning. Make it simple and rely on the Spirit.” And the Spirit, of course, is another language everyone can share.
Paul and Mar Jean Lewis from Utah had already served three missions together (Palmyra New York Temple; Hong Kong China Temple; and Croatia, Serbia, and Slovenia with seminaries and institutes). They were preparing to serve another when their stake president asked, “Would you be willing to serve right here in our own stake, supporting the mission we live in?”
“We’re new here, so it was a wonderful opportunity,” Sister Lewis says. “We serve with the young elders and sisters, have a close association with the mission president, go to district and zone meetings, and work with ward mission leaders.” They also visit investigators and those who are less active.
“We have met wonderful people we would never have known otherwise,” Sister Lewis says, “including some who have drifted off the path. To see them come back, receive ordinances, and go to the temple is a wonderful blessing.”
“Many couples, when they think about serving a mission, are worried about what they’ll do with their home and their car or what they’ll miss out on with their family,” Elder Lewis says. “We’ve been able to live in our own house and drive our own car. We are encouraged to go to family activities, as long as they don’t interfere with missionary responsibilities. And we were even here for the birth of a grandchild.”
On the other hand, Jill and Kent Sorensen, who are from the same stake, say one of the best ways to strengthen their family has been to serve away from home. Sister Sorensen says, “One of the main excuses couples give for not going is grandkids, married children with struggles, daughters expecting babies, aging parents—you name it. Family is a priority, and you miss them every day. But going on a mission sends a powerful message that missionary work is important too.”
Besides, Elder Sorensen notes, “there are so many ways to keep in touch now that you can check in all the time.”
The Sorensens’ missionary journey began three years ago, when their bishop asked them to host monthly firesides for couples contemplating missionary service. “After talking about it constantly,” Sister Sorensen says, “we had to go ourselves!” They received a call to serve in the Cook Islands, where Jill’s grandparents served 50 years ago.
Today, among other duties, they are asked to teach Bible classes in schools.
“We talk about Christ being the rock,” Elder Sorensen says. “We give the students a small rock and encourage them to remain rock solid in Christ. Now everywhere we go, people say, ‘Rock solid!’ when they see us.”
If you are contemplating a full-time mission or a Church-service mission, all of these couples would ask you the same question President Robison asked Gerald and Lorna Malmrose: “Can you come and help?” And they will tell you that, no matter how you participate, this promise is sure: You are needed, you can contribute, and you will be blessed and loved.

During my junior year in high school, I was very involved with my drama club and was getting ready for an audition. There was only going to be one play that year, and I was auditioning for the lead role, so I worked really hard to get ready for the tryouts. As the day of the audition drew near, I felt more and more excited.
On a Sunday before my audition, my Young Women leader announced an upcoming temple trip. We would be going to the Manhattan New York Temple, which was unusual for our ward, because it was about three hours away. She told us that in the next few days, she would need to know who was planning on coming. Then she announced the date of the trip. My heart sank. It was the same day as my audition. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do. If I went on the temple trip, I might not be able to audition to be in the play.
I know that going to the temple is important, and I always look forward to going on temple trips with my ward. I love feeling the Spirit and taking time to be out of the world. At the same time, I loved performing with my drama club and being a part of a show with my friends.
It took me longer than I expected to make my decision. At first, I decided to skip the temple trip and go to the audition instead. I convinced myself that because there was only one show that year and because there would be more temple trips, it would be OK to miss just one trip to the temple—I would just go to the next one. After I made that decision, I still felt conflicted. I prayed about it and was not convinced that I’d made the right choice. I decided to skip the audition and go on the temple trip. I finally felt at peace, and I knew that the Lord was happy with my decision.
After I told my parents that I’d decided to go to the temple, my dad called my director and explained the conflict. The director told my dad that he would work with me so I wouldn’t have to miss out on the show. When my dad told me the news, I was filled with joy. I would be able to go to the temple and participate in the show! I didn’t get the lead that year, but I did learn a valuable lesson: when we choose the right, we are blessed.

When asked how he came to choose his special branch of scientific research, George Washington Carver, the famous Negro scientist, said:
When I was a child I would rise early in the morning and walk in the woods marveling at nature. I prayed and asked the Lord to reveal to me all the wonders of his universe. And although I continued to walk and to study, to pray, no great flash of understanding came to me. Finally, in desperation, I pleaded, “Lord, if you can’t reveal all knowledge to me, at least help me to know some little thing—even the lowly peanut.”
Well, the Lord answered me on that one. He said, “Now, George, you’re getting down to your size.”

In the following years, fellowshipping helped Gary return to Church activity. Jennifer would invite ward members or the missionaries over for dinner, knowing that would give them a chance to talk with Gary. He is grateful to those members and missionaries for being a good influence on him.
Dale Price, for example, home taught Jennifer’s mother and got to know Gary and Jennifer that way. When Brother Price visited with Brother Tucker, they didn’t talk about the gospel at first. They talked about a common interest: hunting. The Prices also sat with the Tuckers at ward activities, brought them food from their food storage when Brother Tucker was out of work, and gave them honey produced by their own honeybees. Honey is the Tuckers’ favorite topping on toast. That little gift, as Brother Price describes it, was “to sweeten the relationship.”

For a long time, I wanted to focus more on my scriptures, but I felt so busy. I have both school and dance, and I felt that I didn’t have enough time or energy. Then, when I was listening to general conference, I heard a talk that asked us to renew our focus on our scriptures every day. I knew my scriptures would make me happier and bless me—I just needed to find a way to remember them even when I was busy. I knew I could do it, though, because I had faith in myself and in the promises of prophets.
I came up with the idea to make my phone’s lock screen a scripture. That way, every time I turn on my phone, I think of the scriptures. I can keep the scriptures on my mind all the time. I choose a new scripture every week, and I specifically choose it based on either a topic I’m struggling with or what we have been learning in Young Women.