Gospel Story Finder

A woman came home from sacrament meeting, sighed deeply, and said to her husband, “I think I’m losing my testimony. I wasn’t spiritually filled or uplifted at all today.”
A natural reaction would be to attempt to solve the problem by immediately giving advice. But if you move too fast from listening into proposing solutions, you are skipping over the chance to really understand your spouse’s feelings. And you may seem insensitive—or even smug and self-righteous. Problem-solving comes after real listening and understanding have taken place.
In this case, the husband responded, “Losing your testimony? What made you feel that way?” He showed that he cared, and he gave his wife a chance to probe her feelings more deeply.

This terror of performing would follow me into adulthood. When I was still in the early years of my public accounting career and had two small children at home, I was called as the Relief Society pianist.

The first week was a disaster. I lurched through some prelude music from the back of the Children’s Songbook (chosen for its simplicity) and then practiced a little deep breathing to calm down during the announcements. Then it was go time. I began playing the first chords of the opening song, but before I could make it through the intro, I plunked a sour note, and, unsurprisingly, my hands rapidly retreated from the keys. Panicked for a measure or two, I desperately tried to get back into the groove. As usual, the chorister led everyone through all of the verses. The longer they sang, the worse I played, until I was reduced to picking out just the melody line for the last verse.

This little episode played out like an old rerun each week until, fatefully, someone in the presidency asked if I would like a key to the church so I could practice. I politely declined, explaining that I actually had a piano at home. I was released within the month.

To this day, even when I am home alone practicing in complete solitude, I cannot play “Sweet Hour of Prayer” (Hymns, no. 142)—the simplest of hymns—without stopping, unless I have the unlikely good fortune to get through it with no mistakes. For this reason I try not to call attention to my piano training (cat’s out of the bag now, I guess). I am so paralyzed by my mistakes that I am of no practical use at the piano.

Over 25 years ago, while serving as bishop of the Aix-en-Provence Ward and working for Seminaries and Institutes, I met Sophronia, who had come from Tahiti to study in France. She was a young adult with solid gospel knowledge, having grown up in the Church. It was therefore disconcerting when she came into my office to announce she would no longer be attending church. I hoped it would be temporary but, indeed, she carried out her wish, and I never saw her again. For more than 20 years, Sophronia led a life distant from the gospel.
In 2024, when my wife and I arrived on our mission in Tahiti, we were delighted to see her again—and even happier to learn she had returned to the Church two years earlier. She shared what prompted her return:
“You have to know that throughout my time away from the Church, I kept my testimony of the gospel and had a deep desire for my daughter, Kahaili, to grow up as I had—in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I wanted her to know that God lives, that He loves her, and that He has a plan for her to return to live with Him and her family if she kept His commandments. Yet I didn’t want to return to church myself. Quite contradictory, wasn’t it?
“Kahaili occasionally attended meetings with my mother, but this sporadic attendance wouldn’t adequately prepare her for baptism. In 2022, when Kahaili was six and a half, I realized we only had a year and a half to prepare. I say ‘we’ because this process meant I would have to become involved personally, not relying on my mother or anyone else.
“I asked her, ‘Kahaili, do you want to be baptized when you turn eight?’
“Without hesitation, she replied, ‘Yes, Mom, I want to be baptized!’
“Her enthusiasm amazed me, and in that outpouring of fervor, I found the courage to make the sacrifice and return to church.
“We attended that first Sunday alone. But soon after, my husband, Cyril (although not a member of the Church), joined us, feeling his place was with us. When Kahaili expressed her desire for her father to baptize her, I responded with a forced smile, ‘Well, ask your daddy. You never know!’—not believing for a moment it could happen. Her father replied, ‘If I can, my daughter, I will.’”
The Lord then intervened in Cyril’s life. His conversion came through reading Ether 12:4: “Wherefore, whoso believeth in God might with surety hope for a better world, yea, even a place at the right hand of God, which hope cometh of faith, maketh an anchor to the souls of men, which would make them sure and steadfast, always abounding in good works, being led to glorify God.”
This scripture about hope becoming an anchor resonated deeply with Cyril as he recalled nearly drowning in the Tuamotus lagoon years earlier. While he was fishing, his boat had drifted away when its anchor came loose. Despite swimming desperately to catch up, he grew exhausted. Miraculously, the boat’s anchor caught on a coral formation, stopping the boat so he could reach it. Cyril still describes this as a miracle that saved his life.
Like a rebirth, Cyril was baptized on March 28, 2024—his 50th birthday. The following month, he baptized Kahaili. The crowning moment came on April 12, 2025, when Sophronia, Cyril, and Kahaili were sealed in the Papeete Tahiti Temple. We had the privilege of attending this sacred ceremony.
I share this story to testify that there is always hope when family members stray from the Church. Even if it takes a quarter century, through faith in Jesus Christ, a miracle is always possible.

Elder Quentin L. Cook told about a life-changing role a stake Relief Society president had in Tonga. During a stake conference held while Elder Cook was there, the names of sixty-three prospective elders were sustained for ordination to the Melchizedek Priesthood. When Elder Cook asked how this “miracle” had been accomplished, the stake president told him that in a stake council meeting, the stake Relief Society president spoke of many men in their late twenties and early thirties who had not served missions and who were in various stages of activity. She suggested that the council focus on priesthood ordinations and temple ordinances for them as well as for their wives—some of whom were less active or not members.

“As she spoke, the Spirit confirmed to the [stake] president that what she was suggesting was true,” Elder Cook related.

It was decided that the men of the priesthood and the women of the Relief Society would reach out to rescue these men and their wives. . . . Those involved in the rescue focused primarily on preparing them for the priesthood, eternal marriage, and the saving ordinances of the temple. During the next two years, almost all of the 63 men who had been sustained to the Melchizedek Priesthood at the conference I attended were endowed in the temple and had their spouses sealed to them. This account is but one example of how critical our sisters are in the work of salvation. [“LDS Women Are Incredible!” Ensign, May 2011, 20–21]

As a young man, President Gordon B. Hinckley rode trains that hurtled through narrow mountain passes at night. It helped him understand how the light of faith can guide us through dark times of discouragement.
Long ago I worked for one of the railroads whose tracks threaded the passes through these western mountains. I frequently rode the trains. It was in the days when there were steam locomotives. Those great monsters of the rails were huge and fast and dangerous. I often wondered how the engineer dared the long journey through the night. Then I came to realize that it was not one long journey, but rather a constant continuation of a short journey. The engine had a powerful headlight that made bright the way for a distance of 400 or 500 yards (350 to 450 m). The engineer saw only that distance, and that was enough, because it was constantly before him all through the night into the dawn of the new day.

Much of my life as a university student revolved around the library. Each time I entered, I was greeted by a sign over the entry that read, “And with all thy getting get understanding” (Proverbs 4:7).
We all know that recall follows repetition. I therefore have this scripture from the book of Proverbs engraved indelibly in my mind, having read it each time I entered the library during my four years of undergraduate work.
I offer the same exhortation to each of you: “And with all thy getting get understanding.” I also invite you to think about the meaning of this scripture and how it might benefit you. I have done so. I have turned it over in my mind time and time again, and my interpretation of its meaning has evolved considerably. Perhaps you can benefit from my observations.
As a young missionary in Japan struggling to learn a difficult language, I heard some vocabulary words early and often. Greetings such as ohayo gozaimasu (good morning) or konnichiwa (good afternoon) were two of these. Another was wakarimasen, which means, “I don’t understand.” This word, along with a side-to-side hand expression, seems to be a favorite response from Japanese contacts directed to young missionaries as they attempt to strike up conversations.
Initially, as I reflected on the meaning of “and with all thy getting get understanding,” I thought of understanding more in terms of this type of comprehension: what I might hear with my ears and understand in my mind. I thought of the Japanese saying wakarimasen. Do I understand or not understand?
As I have studied and observed the use of the word understanding in the scriptures and from the words of living prophets, however, I have come to realize a deeper meaning. Consider these words from Elder Robert D. Hales of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles when he was the Presiding Bishop of the Church:
“First, we start with the intelligence with which we were born. To our intelligence we add knowledge as we search for answers, study, and educate ourselves. To our knowledge we add experience, which should lead us to a level of wisdom. In addition to our wisdom, we add the help of the Holy Ghost through our prayers of faith, asking for spiritual guidance and strength. Then, and only then, do we reach an understanding in our hearts—which motivates us to ‘do what is right; let the consequence follow.’ (Hymns, 1985, no. 237.) The feelings of an understanding heart give us the sweet spirit of assurance of not only knowing but doing what is right no matter what the circumstances. The understanding in our hearts comes from a close interdependence of study and prayer.”1
Now consider again: “And with all thy getting get understanding.” Understanding in this context follows intelligence, knowledge, experience, wisdom, and promptings from the Holy Ghost—all of which lead us to knowing and doing what is right.
Most of you are approaching or have entered a critical intersection or crossroads in your life. You are becoming more independent with each passing year, and you are moving deeper into the “and with all thy getting” phase of your life. What is it that you are going to be getting? You may be getting a husband or a wife, your own family, a job, to name a few things.
To manage these very important things that we “get,” we must also obtain “understanding,” as the scripture teaches. This understanding comes through an interdependence of study and prayer. Said another way, we must trust in and rely on the Lord Jesus Christ. Alma described this when he likened the word unto a seed. As he stated, “It beginneth to enlighten my understanding, yea, it beginneth to be delicious to me” (Alma 32:28; emphasis added).
President Thomas S. Monson often quotes a scripture from Proverbs that adds another dimension to this understanding: “Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding” (Proverbs 3:5).2
As we trust in and rely on the Lord, a greater measure of understanding comes from Him into our heart.
Let me offer an example of a powerful woman who played a key role in the Restoration, who trusted in the Lord, and who leaned not unto her own understanding.
Shortly after the Church was organized in Palmyra, New York, Joseph Smith’s mother, Lucy Mack Smith, remained in Waterloo, New York, with a large group of Saints while her husband, Joseph Sr., and some of their sons, including Joseph Jr., departed before her for Kirtland, Ohio. Her responsibility was to bring this group to Ohio when she received word from her son, the Prophet.
Word came in early spring 1831. Lucy, with the help of some of the brethren, began to move the group to Buffalo, New York, with the intention of making passage to Ohio by ship on Lake Erie. She said: “When the brethren considered the spring sufficiently open for traveling on the water, we all began to prepare for our removal to Kirtland. We hired a boat … ; and … we numbered eighty souls.”
Then, as they pushed off into the Erie Canal and headed to Buffalo, she said: “I then called the brethren and sisters together, and reminded them that we were traveling by the commandment of the Lord, as much as Father Lehi was, when he left Jerusalem; and, if faithful, we had the same reasons to expect the blessings of God. I then desired them to be solemn, and to lift their hearts to God continually in prayer, that we might be prospered.”
About halfway to Buffalo from Waterloo, passage along the canal became impossible. Conditions for the 80 Saints were uncomfortable, and murmuring began almost immediately. Lucy, relying on the Lord, had to unite their faith. She told them: “No, no, … you will not starve, brethren, nor anything of that sort; only do be patient and stop your murmuring. I have no doubt but the hand of the Lord is over us.”
When they arrived in Buffalo on the fifth day after leaving Waterloo, the harbor leading to Lake Erie was frozen. They took passage on a ship with Captain Blake, a man acquainted with Lucy Smith and her family.
After a couple of days, although conditions on the ship were not conducive for all of them to stay while awaiting notice of departure, Lucy reported, “Captain Blake requested the passengers to remain on board, as he wished, from that time, to be ready to start at a moment’s warning; at the same time he sent out a man to measure the depth of the ice, who, when he returned, reported that it was piled up to the height of twenty feet [6 m], and that it was his opinion that we would remain in the harbor at least two weeks longer.”
This was devastating news to the group. Supplies were low and conditions were difficult. Lucy Mack Smith further recorded her admonition to the Saints: “You profess to put your trust in God, then how can you feel to murmur and complain as you do! You are even more unreasonable than the children of Israel were; for here are my sisters pining for their rocking chairs, and brethren from whom I expected firmness and energy, declare that they positively believe they shall starve to death before they get to the end of their journey. And why is it so? Have any of you lacked? … Where is your faith? Where is your confidence in God? Can you not realize that all things were made by him, and that he rules over the works of his own hands? And suppose that all the Saints here should lift their hearts in prayer to God, that the way might be opened before us, how easy it would be for him to cause the ice to break away, so that in a moment we could be on our journey!”
Now, please observe here the great faith of Mother Smith—how she chose to trust in the Lord and how she asked that the Saints with her not lean unto their own understanding:
“‘Now, brethren and sisters, if you will all of you raise your desires to heaven, that the ice may be broken up, and we be set at liberty, as sure as the Lord lives, it will be done.’ At that instant a noise was heard, like bursting thunder. The captain cried, ‘Every man to his post.’ The ice parted, leaving barely a passage for the boat, and so narrow that as the boat passed through[,] the buckets of the waterwheel were torn off with a crash, which, joined to the word of command from the captain, the hoarse answering of the sailors, the noise of the ice, and the cries and confusion of the spectators, presented a scene truly terrible. We had barely passed through the avenue when the ice closed together again, and the Colesville brethren were left in Buffalo, unable to follow us.
“As we were leaving the harbor, one of the bystanders exclaimed, ‘There goes the “Mormon” company! That boat is sunk in the water nine inches deeper than ever it was before, and, mark it, she will sink—there is nothing surer.’ In fact, they were so sure of it that they went straight to the [news] office and had it published that we were sunk, so that when we arrived at Fairport we read in the papers the news of our own death.”3
“And with all thy getting get understanding,” or, said another way, “Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding” (Proverbs 3:5).
I have personally observed the heartbreak and personal havoc wrought upon those whose focus is on worldly “getting” and not on the Lord’s “understanding.” It seems that those who lean unto their own understanding or rely on the arm of the flesh are more likely to develop a disproportionate focus or obsession for material gain, prestige, power, and position. But keeping the “getting” in accordance with this scriptural guidance of “understanding” will temper your temporal appetite. It will allow the proper context for your activities as a productive member of society and of the Lord’s kingdom.
As a young student full of aspiration, I remember listening to a respected and successful mentor suggest that we appropriately manage ambitions by following an order of “learn, earn, serve.” President Gordon B. Hinckley (1910–2008) taught a pattern that leads to trusting the Lord and relying on Him rather than on ourselves. He said: “Each of us has a fourfold responsibility. First, we have a responsibility to our families. Second, we have a responsibility to our employers. Third, we have a responsibility to the Lord’s work. Fourth, we have a responsibility to ourselves.”
We must have a balance. President Hinckley suggested that we fulfill this fourfold responsibility through family prayer, family home evening, family scripture study, honesty and loyalty to our employer, fulfillment of our Church responsibilities, personal scripture study, rest, recreation, and exercise.4
American philosopher and poet Ralph Waldo Emerson said, “This time, like all times, is a very good one, if we but know what to do with it.”5
Fortunately, Latter-day Saints never have to look very far to know what to do. With your knowledge of a loving Heavenly Father and the great plan of happiness, you have rudders deep in the water. Now, put your oars in deeply as well and pull hard and even.
In a general conference talk, President Monson quoted from Proverbs, as he had done before: “Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.” Then he said, “That has been the story of my life.”6 What a great life to emulate.
I have great expectations for each of you, as do the Father and the Son. I finish where I began—with the exhortation found in Proverbs: “And with all thy getting get understanding.”
Get real understanding. This will come to you as you realize the interdependence of study and prayer, as you maintain a commitment to serve while learning and earning, and as you lean not unto yourself but trust in and rely on the Lord.

When my wife, Kathy, and I were in Africa a few weeks ago, we visited Mbuji-Mayi, Democratic Republic of the Congo. Because the chapel was not large enough for the 2,000 members, we met out of doors under large plastic coverings supported by bamboo poles. As the meeting began, we could see dozens of children watching us, clinging to the bars on the outside of the wrought-iron fence that surrounded the property. Kathy quietly whispered, “Neil, do you think that you might want to invite the children to come in?” I approached District President Kalonji at the podium and asked him if he would welcome the children outside the fence to come join us inside.
To my surprise, with President Kalonji’s invitation, the children not only came but came running—more than 50, perhaps 100—some with tattered clothes and bare feet but all with beautiful smiles and excited faces.
I was deeply moved by this experience and saw it as symbolic of our need to reach out to the youth who feel alone, left behind, or outside the fence. Let us think about them, welcome them, embrace them, and do everything we can to strengthen their love for the Savior. Jesus said, “Whoso shall receive one such … child in my name receiveth me.”14 In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Just as Joseph could not possibly have understood why the Lord needed him in Egypt, as a slave and then a prisoner, we may have experiences that, without faith and humility, make little or no sense to us. Margaret and I had just such an experience about nine months after returning from our three years presiding over the England London Mission. Reflecting on these unusual events is extremely humbling, as it shows that the Lord trusted us to trust in Him, even though we could not see the divine destination where He would lead us. Let me share the events I’m referring to.

Before leaving for London in July of 2000, Margaret and I sold our Boston home, as we planned to retire to Utah after our mission. But near the end of our mission we felt strong promptings to change our plans and return to Boston to continue my career at Harvard for a few more years. Because we had sold our family home, we needed to find a place to live. After an extensive search, we purchased a small home; just right for the two of us, about a mile from where we had lived for over 20 years before our mission. We moved into this home and immediately went to work, renovating and improving it like we had done to prior homes several times before. For the next eight months, we lived there comfortably.

Then, one Sunday afternoon, while waiting to meet with the Stake President, I received a strong impression from the Spirit that we needed to move. I was shocked! Another move was not in our plans and it made absolutely no sense, given my limited perspective. Yet I knew I had been told that we needed to move!

After my meeting that afternoon, I drove down the street we had lived on for so many years before our mission. I hadn’t been on that street for nearly four years. But as I followed the gentle guidance of the Spirit, I noticed a home for sale across the street from the home we had raised our family in. The thought quickly crossed my mind – “I wonder if that is the house the Lord wants us to buy.”

For two weeks I pondered the impression I’d had, wondering why we needed to move. Unable to make sense of it, but trusting in the Lord with faith and humility, I concluded I just needed to act upon the prompting, and so I told Margaret what had happened. She, too, was shocked, but we both felt we should do as the Lord had prompted, so we put our home on the market and began looking for another.

After a few days of looking, we felt that the house across the street from our previous home was the one we should buy. Now if you knew the Boston housing market, especially at that time, you would have known as I did that this was not a wise financial decision! We had been in our other home for less than a year, and now we were selling it and buying a home larger than the two of us could need, but we felt strongly prompted that it was what the Lord wanted us to do. We were grateful for the Lord’s guidance, even if we did not understand it.

The day after we moved in, Margaret walked next door to the elderly neighbor she had been acquainted with when we had lived on this street before our mission. You might say that Margaret engaged. She knew that this 80-year-old woman, Barbara, had been raised in the Church but had become inactive in college and hadn’t been back to church for over 60 years. When Margaret entered her kitchen that morning, Barbara threw her arms around her and began telling her about her 40-year-old daughter, Karen. Karen was dying of stomach cancer, and she and her husband were now living with Barbara so she could help with Karen’s care.

Before Margaret could even think, she opened her mouth and said, “Barbara, do you think that Karen would like a priesthood blessing?” Without hesitating, Barbara said, “Yes, I know that she would.”

That night a close friend from the ward joined me and we gave Karen a priesthood blessing. It was then that Margaret and I began to understand why the Lord needed us to buy the house next door to Barbara and her dying daughter. A mile away would not have been sufficient for what the Lord needed us to do. Our trust in the Lord had created an amazing opportunity for us.

Within a week, we started sharing the gospel with Karen. She had always wondered about the Church because she knew that her cousins in Utah were members and they were always so happy. We visited with her almost daily, teaching her and comforting her and her mother in any way we could. Karen started attending church with us and loved the people in the ward and everything she was learning. She felt like she was coming home! Within a couple of months she was baptized.

Karen said that the day she was baptized was the happiest day of her life. Even though she only lived three months after her baptism, and she was in daily pain, she was filled with joy and happiness and peace from the Lord. Those last few months of her life were truly a gift from the Lord to her and all of those around her.

We felt in a very small way like Joseph of Egypt. We didn’t know the Lord’s plan, but we trusted Him. And with His guidance we were able to help save a small family struggling with spiritual hunger at a critical time in their lives. That experience became a milestone in all we had learned previously about trusting the Lord.

At my school a lot of people have boyfriends and girlfriends. On my first day of school as an eighth grader, I met someone named Paul. We got along well together. Paul was a great friend.
The next day after school he asked me out on a date. I told him I couldn’t, and he asked why. I told him I was a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and that we’re not supposed to date until age 16. Paul asked why, and I realized that I didn’t actually know.
That night I went home and pondered Paul’s question. I did research on LDS.org and read my scriptures. I found a quote by President Gordon B. Hinckley (1910–2008): “The Lord has made us attractive one to another for a great purpose. But this very attraction becomes as a powder keg unless it is kept under control. … It is for this reason that the Church counsels against early dating.”1
I also looked in For the Strength of Youth. It says dating “can help you learn and practice social skills, develop friendships, have wholesome fun, and eventually find an eternal companion.”2
The next day I showed Paul the For the Strength of Youth booklet. Other people saw Paul reading it, and my LDS friends helped me answer my classmates’ questions. I was happy to have an answer to Paul’s question.
For the Strength of Youth says that dating before age 16 and forming serious relationships in our youth can lead to immorality and limit the number of people we meet. My mother also tells me that we shouldn’t date before 16 because it can distract us from studies and opportunities that can be vital to success in the future. I’ve seen friends of mine become depressed because of an emotional breakup at age 13.
I was glad I was able to find out for myself why we shouldn’t date before age 16 and then give Paul an answer without hurting his feelings. I’ve made a great friend, and I hope we will be friends for a long time. I am thankful the Lord has given us friends and the opportunity to date at the appropriate age so that we may all one day find faithful eternal companions.

Our housing office received this letter in September 2004.
"I was a student at BYU-Hawaii 1979-1980, my freshman year. After school was out but before I returned to the mainland I took a case of toilet paper out of a supply closet and together with a couple of friends proceeded to "TP" the open air courtyard of our dorm, Hale II. I am sorry for my actions done at the time. After returning from a successful mission to Brazil, I went to BYU. Now some twenty years later here is the first part of my repentance process. In an effort to correct this juvenile indiscretion, I ask the University's forgiveness and I have enclosed a check to pay for that case of toilet paper, plus interest."

Celebrating Christ’s life during the Christmas season brings both families and friends closer together. Jennifer Adams, of Pleasanton, California, discovered this when she went away to school.
She and her roommates knew they would spend most of the time leading up to Christmas away from their families. But they didn’t want to miss out on the traditions and special experiences of home, so they started some of their own.
They took a long candle, decorated it with numbers from 1 to 25, and placed it in the center of the living room. Every night they lit the candle and let it burn down one number.
While the candle burned, they sang traditional Christmas hymns and shared stories of service and giving. Some nights, they bore testimony of the Savior and talked about what Christmas meant to them.
It only took 15 minutes a night and made for a meaningful holiday season. It became a tradition Jennifer will one day incorporate in her own home. It also brought the roommates closer together and created a feeling of having a family even while they were away at college.

Our family were the only Latter-day Saints in our town of 60,000 people. We did our best to live the gospel. I felt the Spirit often, and I never really doubted that the Church was true. But while serving in the military, I felt a strong desire to know for myself that the Book of Mormon is true. So I went to a private place and did just as the Book of Mormon counsels (see Moroni 10:4–5). I asked God. And I received a witness—a spiritual feeling of warmth, comfort, peace, and great happiness that I shall never forget.

Each year I feel the Christmas spirit in our home as we get out the Nativity scene and the other traditional decorations. And always, when we place the Christmas angel in her usual spot, I remember something that happened halfway around the world.
It’s 22 December 1970. I am in the jungle near the village of Song Be, South Vietnam. We can hear the supply helicopters coming. We prepare the landing zone for them and wait to receive supplies: food, water, ammunition, and, most important, letters and packages from home.
I make sure the men under my command have received their rations and have all their mail and packages. Then I take some time to read my own letters. My mind wanders, and many things trouble me as I read the letters—some of them mailed over four weeks ago. I’ve been in Vietnam for 335 days, most of them spent in combat. I feel calloused and frustrated with life. Here it is—three days before Christmas—and the one thing I’m thinking of is that I have only twenty-nine days left until my assignment ends and I’m on my way home. I hope my last combat missions will go well, that I’ll be able to leave my responsibilities and my men well, and that the officer replacing me will be the best one they could receive.
I have no thoughts of Christmas or of my Savior’s birth until I open the package with the beautiful white angel inside. She’s about twelve inches tall, is dressed in white clothes, has golden hair, and stands on a music box. I put her on top of an overturned ammunition can and begin to read the letter from my dear mother.
In her own words, she tells me the story of the birth of our Savior and bears a quiet, sweet testimony. I feel myself being lifted spiritually. My mother told me the Christmas story over and over when I was a child, but never did I feel the Spirit of Christ so close before.
I glance up from the letter and notice some of my men looking at the white angel. I wind up the music box, and no one says a word as the sound of “Silent Night” fills the air and the Christmas angel brings special emotions out in each one of us. Some tears are shed and feelings exchanged as the Spirit of Christ touches each one of us.
Later, as I pack and prepare to move out, I wrap the angel carefully and place her in my backpack. I think of home, family, and loved ones. But most of all, I think of Jesus and all that he has done for me.

“Father, where are you going?” George asked.
“To the duke’s court,” he was told.
“May I come too?”
“No,” his father said sternly.
George knew that his father had to be obeyed. But there were musicians at court, and George longed to hear them play. Father said that music was foolish child’s play, not work for men. George must become a lawyer and forget about music. His father didn’t know that George spent hours practicing in secret on a clavier (the “grandfather” of the modern piano).
But George needed to hear other musicians play, so he decided to go to the court at Weissenfels anyway. It couldn’t be very far from his home in Halle, (Saxony, Germany).
He watched as his father climbed into the carriage; then, as the horse pulled it down the street, George ran behind the carriage. By the time they reached the edge of town, George’s breath was coming in great gulps, and the carriage started to go faster. The distance between George and the carriage became greater, no matter how hard he ran.
Suddenly the carriage stopped. The driver climbed down, ran to the boy, picked him up, and carried him to the carriage.
“What are you trying to do?” his father scolded him. “A seven-year-old boy cannot run as far as Weissenfels. I told you that you could not come. Why did you disobey me? You may sit with the driver, but you’ll be punished when we get home.”
When they entered the castle, George heard music. He followed the sounds to a large room where a man was playing the organ. The boy listened happily until the last note died away. “May I play?” he asked.
“Only for a minute.”
George sat on the organ bench and began to play. He was thrilled at the beautiful tones that filled the room. Not until he had played the last note did the man speak to him. “Who are you?” the man asked.
“George Frideric Handel,” he answered.
“You play well. How old are you, and who is your teacher?”
“I’m seven, but I don’t have a teacher. My father doesn’t want me to be a musician.”
Just then George’s father entered the room. “I’m sorry, Your Grace,” he said to the man, who happened to be the duke, “if my son has disturbed you.”
“You are the boy’s father?” the duke asked. “He tells me that he has no music teacher. Don’t you realize that he is very talented? Get him a music teacher at once, and bring him to play for me again.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” George’s father said meekly.
When they returned home, George was sent to bed in disgrace. But the very next day Father arranged for the organist of the largest church in Halle to teach George, and he was allowed to prepare for a life in music. But George also respected his father’s desire for him to be a lawyer, and completed law school.

Youth in Longview, Texas, had a blast last summer painting their community rodeo arena and corral—and each other! More than 250 young people from the Longview Stake and the Gilmer Texas Stake got the job done in just about four hours, to the amazement of city officials.
“When we got there it was really trashed. I couldn’t believe it. We never thought we could get it done, but it only took four hours. The people from the city were amazed,” says Amber Davis, a Laurel from the Longview Second Ward.
The job included painting a Texas flag on the north bleachers and an American flag on the south bleachers.
“The fun part was that there was a lot of team work, so if you weren’t finished with your project, other people came and helped you,” says Amber.
City officials were so pleased with the job the youth did that they mailed each of them a thank-you note with a picture of the newly painted arena.

This story took place in the USA.
Kevin turned around in the computer chair. He hit random keys on the keyboard.
“Mom, can I play the racing game yet?” he called.
Mom looked in from the kitchen. “After you finish your homework.”
Kevin sighed. How was he supposed to focus on homework? He was so close to beating the next level of his favorite computer game. And his homework was, well, homework.
He guessed he could at least start on it. He scrolled through a website. It sure didn’t look as cool as the racing game.
Then Kevin saw a link. He clicked on it. The link took him to a website with pictures of people wearing no clothes.
This is bad, he thought. I should leave it. Kevin looked over his shoulder. No one was watching him. He looked at a few more pictures. He was just curious.
Kevin started to feel a little sick inside. He quickly closed the website. He tried to go back to his homework. It’s OK, Kevin thought. I just saw just a few pictures. But the bad feeling didn’t go away.
Kevin felt like he should talk to Mom about the website. But he was scared. What if she got mad?
That night, after dinner, Kevin helped Mom wash the dishes.
“Are you feeling OK?” Mom asked.
“Yeah,” Kevin said.
But he wasn’t OK. He felt like he was going to cry. The feeling that he should tell Mom came back. But Kevin was still scared.
Heavenly Father, please help me, he prayed silently. He felt a little better.
“Can I talk to you?” Kevin asked.
“Of course,” Mom said. “What do you want to talk about?”
Kevin looked at the floor. He wasn’t sure how to start. “When I was doing my homework, I looked at a site that had pictures of people without clothes. I was just curious. But now I can’t forget what I saw.”
“I’m glad you told me,” Mom said. She gave Kevin a hug. “Curiosity is normal. You know that those things are bad, and you shouldn’t be looking at them. But the good thing is that you were honest. You’ll feel better now because you told me.”
“You’re not mad?” Kevin asked.
“Of course not,” Mom said. “I love you. I want to help you. And so does Heavenly Father. He can always help you make things right.”
The sick feeling left Kevin’s stomach.
“I was scared to tell you,” he said. “But I felt better after I said a prayer.”
“It sounds like the Holy Ghost helped you be brave!” Mom said.
Kevin had felt calm and peaceful when he prayed. But even before he prayed, he had felt like he needed to talk to Mom.
“I think the Holy Ghost helped me the whole time,” Kevin said. “He told me the pictures were bad. And He told me I needed to tell you what happened.”
“I’m always here if you need to talk about things like this,” Mom said. “I won’t get mad. Let’s work together to make a computer safety plan.”
Kevin smiled. “That sounds like a good idea to me.”
Illustration by Laura Catrinella

Later, after the terrifying experience of a wartime Nazi concentration camp, she found herself face to face with one of the S.S. guards.

“It was at a church service in Munich that I saw him, the former S.S. man who had stood guard at the shower room door in the processing center at Ravensbruck. He was the first of our actual jailers that I had seen since that time. And suddenly it was all there—the roomful of mocking men, the heaps of clothing, [her sister] Betsie’s pain-blanched face.
“He came up to me as the church was emptying, beaming and bowing. ‘How grateful I am for your message, Fraulein.’ he said. ‘To think that, as you say, He has washed my sins away!’
“His hand was thrust out to shake mine. And I, who had preached so often to the people in Bloemendaal the need to forgive, kept my hand at my side.
“Even as the angry, vengeful thoughts boiled through me, I saw the sin of them. Jesus Christ had died for this man; was I going to ask for more? Lord Jesus, I prayed, forgive me and help me to forgive him.
“I tried to smile, I struggled to raise my hand. I could not. I felt nothing, not the slightest spark of warmth or charity. And so again I breathed a silent prayer. Jesus, I cannot forgive him. Give me Your forgiveness.
“As I took his hand the most incredible thing happened. From my shoulder along my arm and through my hand a current seemed to pass from me to him, while into my heart sprang a love for this stranger that almost overwhelmed me.
“And so I discovered that it is not on our forgiveness any more than on our goodness that the world’s healing hinges, but on His. When He tells us to love our enemies, He gives, along with the command, the love itself” (Corrie ten Boom, The Hiding Place, New York: Bantam Books, 1971, pp. 44–45, 238).

My bishop and I were having a pleasant conversation in his office, but in truth, I wasn’t paying much attention.
It was the middle of December, and we were meeting for tithing settlement. I had always had a testimony of tithing and had paid a full tithe, so I didn’t think much of the short meeting. And I was anxious to get back to studying for my college finals, especially because I had just found out I had failed my math final—for the second time.
I was feeling very discouraged, and my mind was elsewhere.
My bishop looked at me kindly.
“I noticed you didn’t pay fast offerings this year,” he said, smiling.
That brought me back to attention.
He was right.
Fast offerings had been at the back of my mind for months. They were something that my family rarely discussed growing up, and we didn’t really talk about them at church, either.
I mistakenly thought I didn’t have to contribute much, partly because I was now in a YSA ward, and partly because I was blinded a bit by my own pride and didn’t really have a testimony of fasting or fast offerings.
I thought that paying my tithing and just going without food was enough.
“I haven’t,” I said. “But if I’m paying my tithing and fasting, that’s what counts the most, right?”
My bishop smiled and explained to me the importance of paying a fast offering alongside fasting every month, and the number of temporal blessings it provides for those in need in the ward.
But most of all, he emphasized the blessings available to those who are willing to sacrifice and to keep the law of the fast.
He looked me in the eye and said, “Those blessings can help you with whatever challenges you’re facing at the moment, even those in your education.”
My mouth fell open. I hadn’t even told him that I had just failed my math class.
“So what you’re saying is,” I said, “if I pay my fast offerings, I’ll be able to pass math next semester?”
We both laughed, but I was a little shocked when he actually nodded.
He told me that if I would study and gain a testimony of the importance of the law of the fast and paid a fast offering every month, I would be surprised at the blessings that Heavenly Father would shower on me.
Seeing that this math class was the only thing keeping me from progressing in school and that I had struggled with math (especially math that included both numbers and letters) throughout my life, I decided to give it a shot.
At the start of the next semester, I made a promise to myself that I would study math harder than I ever had, and that I would also learn as much about fasting and fast offerings as I could.
I had always fasted growing up, but I hadn’t ever made it meaningful. Most of the time on fast Sunday, I just thought about how I was so hungry that the fruit snacks toddlers had dropped on the floor in sacrament meeting actually looked appetizing.
When the start of the new month came around, I had a hard time paying my tithing and fast offering. I was a poor college student, and I didn’t have much to offer!
But as the months went by, I felt my begrudging attitude and pride slowly fade. As I focused on the why of fasting, I felt my heart and faith change with every fast Sunday in many ways:
My prayers at the beginning and end of my fasts became more sincere and meaningful.
Paying fast offerings helped me fast with purpose, and instead of simply focusing on my stomach growling, I started recognizing the Spirit’s soft voice and influence.
The pure, yet profound, spiritual strength I would feel at the end of each fast would fill my soul and warm my heart.
I ultimately realized that when we willingly make sacrifices for others, we are refined into more Christlike beings, because sacrifice is exactly what He did for us. His life was just one long act of giving.
I felt charity enrich my soul every month as I thought of how many people we are able to serve with our willingness to give. And I also felt gratitude for all the blessings in my life that I had sometimes previously overlooked.
Fasting for the purpose of sharing light and blessings with others became much more important than what was in it for me.
I felt more connected to Heavenly Father and the Savior.
Despite ongoing challenges, I experienced many little mercies, and I felt a lot of joy in my life.
I was struck by the words of Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin (1917–2008) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles when he said:
“Fasting in the proper spirit and in the Lord’s way will energize us spiritually, strengthen our self-discipline, fill our homes with peace, lighten our hearts with joy, fortify us against temptation, prepare us for times of adversity, and open the windows of heaven. …
“As we live the law of the fast, we not only draw nearer to God through prayer, but we feed the hungry and care for the poor.” 1
That’s a lot of promised blessings that are just waiting for us.
Since this experience, fasting and fast offerings have become an important part of my discipleship. I feel closer to my Heavenly Father and Savior each time I give. And sometimes I even fast when it isn’t fast Sunday to seek answers and comfort for myself or on behalf of others.
I’ve realized that the law of the fast is truly a gift.
And in case you were wondering, yes, I did miraculously pass that math class that semester. And I didn’t just pass it—I got one of the top scores in the class. I studied, of course, but for once in my life, those letters and numbers just finally seemed to click in my mind.
Heavenly Father is indeed a God of miracles.
As we strive to follow Him and His Son, Jesus Christ, along with Their commandments, we can move forward with faith, hope, and charity, and They will remind us that They are with us and ready to bless us for our efforts.

As Mommy and I sat in sacrament meeting, I was missing my daddy. He was away serving in the military overseas. At the same time, my tooth was hurting a lot, so I reached for Mommy and told her about it. She held my hand, closed her eyes, and said a silent prayer that my tooth wouldn’t hurt anymore.
After she finished praying—poof! My tooth got very loose and came out. I believe Heavenly Father heard my mommy’s prayer, and I am thankful.Jesse Freeman, age 7 (with help from his mom), Savannah, Georgia

Some months ago I rode in a car with two courageous senior sister missionaries. They were determined to find a ward member’s apartment in the heart of an inner-city neighborhood in the eastern United States. As I sat in the backseat holding my breath, the car’s guidance system regularly blared, “Wrong turn, wrong turn!” Undaunted, the missionary reading the map just kept suggesting way after way through the maze of city streets until finally we found the home of the sister whom they had promised to teach how to read and write.
In their actions and attitudes, these remarkable sisters embodied something that is much more than a reflection of their mortal years. They demonstrated true spiritual maturity.
Helaman, the great Book of Mormon prophet, named his sons Nephi and Lehi after their forebears, and “they began to grow up unto the Lord.” Young or older, all of us must do the same.
This idea of growing up unto the Lord is a compelling one. Unlike the process of growing up physically, we will not mature spiritually until we choose, as the Apostle Paul phrased it, to “put away childish things.”
Daily prayer and scripture study, adherence to commandments and to covenants made at baptism and in the temple are at the core of growing up unto the Lord. We learn to walk in His ways as we do what draws us closer to Heavenly Father and as we teach our children and others to do the same. We “put away childish things” as we choose to become Christlike and serve others as He would have us do.
When the Church was organized in this dispensation, the Lord explained that those who “shall be received by baptism into his church” would be, in part, those “willing to take upon them the name of Jesus Christ, having a determination to serve him to the end.” That means remaining “steadfast and immovable, always abounding in good works” each day of our lives. Today, as the Church grows in 170 nations throughout the earth, determined service to others, even in difficult circumstances, is required of those who truly desire “to grow up unto the Lord.” This expansion of the Church means many of us will have opportunities to serve those who are new converts.
I participated in a memorable example of such determined service to those who are new to the gospel when I accompanied those dedicated sister missionaries—one a widow close to 80 years and the other a single parent in her 60s—who would not be deterred by wrong turns. I also witnessed another example of it in that same ward.
This ward is composed of members of many ages, from a variety of countries, all with varying economic circumstances and Church experience. A number of those with the most Church experience are busy graduate-student couples with demanding schedules and young families.
What I saw was a young mother serving as a visiting teaching mentor to newer converts in the ward. While her husband cared for their baby, she enthusiastically modeled loving watchcare to two African sisters. This watchcare involved teaching these sisters not only how to function in a new country but also how to adapt to their new religion.
Through her example she taught these African sisters how the Lord would have us serve each other. The words of the Apostle Paul tenderly describe what I saw in this visiting teaching mentor’s actions toward these new converts: “We were gentle among you, … being affectionately desirous of you, … willing to have imparted unto you, not the gospel of God only, but also our own souls, because ye were dear unto us.” With each visit, the young mentor brought good cheer, a gentle helping hand, and the visiting teaching message.
In time, together the sisters prepared the visiting teaching message to share in other sisters’ homes. Assessing needs, giving on-the-spot service as they went, they became true Relief Society sisters committed to lifting, comforting, and encouraging one another. I doubt I will ever hear the phrase “hearts knit together in unity and in love” that I won’t think of those three happy, loving women demonstrating through their determined service to others what it means “to grow up unto the Lord.”
Besides steadfast, determined service, another way we choose to grow up unto the Lord is through our willingness to “press forward” in faith—even when we don’t quite know what to do. Consider Nephi’s account of being commanded to build a ship. He recounted the circumstance:
“And it came to pass that the Lord spake unto me, saying: Thou shalt construct a ship, after the manner which I shall show thee. …
“And I said: Lord, whither shall I go that I may find ore to molten, that I may make tools?”
Nephi did not question the task to be done. Rather, in this situation, he evidenced, as he had in others, this mature spiritual insight: “And thus we see that the commandments of God must be fulfilled. And if it so be that the children of men keep the commandments of God he doth nourish them, and strengthen them, and provide means whereby they can accomplish the thing which he has commanded them.” In short, Nephi looked for a resolution rather than at the roadblocks, because he knew—he knew—that in this process of growing up unto the Lord, God could and would help him fulfill every commandment he received.
In that same inner-city ward I observed a similar type of faith in the gentle, loving care of a bishop who wasted no time despairing over the vast needs of an ever-growing number of new converts. Rather, he pressed forward by rallying the more experienced members of the Aaronic and Melchizedek Priesthood quorums to help prepare new converts from Africa and Latin America for their priesthood responsibilities. The newer brethren were taught how to hold the trays while passing the sacrament, how to kneel and reverently bless the bread and water. Their more seasoned, often younger brethren practiced along with them the words of the sacramental prayers so they would feel confident in giving them. Then, together, all the brethren discussed the sacred nature of this important priesthood ordinance.
We’ve all had experiences where we’ve had to demonstrate our determination to serve others and our willingness to press forward in faith. When my husband telephoned to tell me that our mission call had been changed to a challenging assignment in Africa, I responded, “I can do that. I think I can do that.” I demonstrated by my words my commitment to move forward in faith—trusting once again that the Lord would help me. I was showing my willingness “to grow up unto the Lord.”
As that faithful bishop, those dedicated sisters, and I might attest, in this ongoing process of growing up unto the Lord, we will be asked to do all we can, in some cases even more than we know how to do. The challenges may be formidable and the route sometimes unknown. But inevitable wrong turns notwithstanding, those who strive to be truly Christlike—with steadfast determination to serve others and a willingness to press forward in faith—can come to echo this grand spiritual truth shared by Nephi as he continued his shipbuilding: “And I did pray oft unto the Lord; wherefore the Lord showed unto me great things.” To be shown “great things”—what a gift, what a blessing to those who have chosen “to grow up unto the Lord.” May ours be lives of gentle, loving, steadfast spiritual maturity, I humbly pray, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.