Gospel Story Finder

A young woman named Amy recently taught me this lesson when she wrote: “It is hard being a teenager these days. The path is getting narrower. Satan is really trying. It is either right or wrong; there is no in-between.”

She continued: “Good friends are sometimes hard to find. Even when you think you have best friends who will never leave, that could change for any reason. That is why I am so glad that I have family, Heavenly Father, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Ghost, who can be my companions whenever things with friends go wrong.”

Amy went on to say: “One night I was troubled. I told my sister I didn’t know what to do.”

Later that night her sister sent her a text and quoted Elder Jeffrey R. Holland when he said: “Don’t give up. … Don’t you quit. You keep walking. You keep trying. There is help and happiness ahead. … It will be all right in the end. Trust God and believe in good things to come.”

Amy explained: “I remembered reading that and just praying that I would feel love from God if He really was there for me.”

She said: “As soon as I asked and believed that He was there, I felt the most amazing, happy, warm feeling. Words can’t describe it. I knew He was there and that He loved me.”

Tony Wong, reared in the Church with family support, is an exception in Hong Kong. Most Church members are first-generation converts, often with families who don’t understand this “new” religion.
“It was difficult,” acknowledges Camel Lok, who was baptized as a teenager. Her family tolerated her weekly church attendance, but Camel often felt alone in her quest for spiritual growth and learning.
“I couldn’t have done it without my friends in the ward,” she explains. “Meetings on Sunday really strengthened me for the upcoming week.”
Now Camel and her husband, Gary, both returned missionaries, find support from each other and look forward to rearing their daughter with a strong gospel foundation.

Thomas stood on the banks of the Mississippi River, his bare hands pushed deep inside the pockets of his overcoat. His breath came out in cloudy puffs, and his teeth chattered steadily.
Thomas watched as a chunk of ice bigger than a wagon wheel slowly drifted by. The ferry had been moored for days, and the muddy banks of the river were frozen and hard. The Saints who had hoped to leave Nauvoo ahead of the Canadian storm had been delayed; there was no hope of crossing the icy river before spring.
Thomas had never seen a storm like the one that hit Nauvoo that February 1846. The weather had been mild and warm the first half of the month, and President Brigham Young had exhorted the members of the Church to leave Nauvoo for the camp at Sugar Creek. Many families had followed his admonition. The ferry carried heavy loads of people, animals, and wagons across the river continually until the temperatures dropped. Almost overnight, the storm blew in with a terrible fury. Bitter cold winds pounded Thomas’s wood-frame house from the north, doors and shutters clattering loudly. Great mounds of snow piled up on the streets of Nauvoo. The stinging, harsh blizzard had gone on for days. This morning was the first time Thomas was able to see the ice-choked river.
“Thomas!” called his younger brother, Joseph. “Mama needs those eggs from Sister Patterson right away!”
Thomas looked back across the river one more time. “All right, Joseph. I’m coming.” He pulled his woolen scarf closer around his neck and met his brother halfway up the hill.
Joseph was a year younger than Thomas, but he was already nearly as tall. Named for the Prophet Joseph Smith, he had been born three days before the Prophet’s thirty-first birthday. Joseph’s cheeks and nose were red from the cold, and he was blowing on his hands to keep them warm.
“You run home, Joseph,” Thomas said. “Tell Mama I’m on my way with the eggs for her custard.”
Joseph nodded and loped off. Thomas could see their house up the road and knew that Joseph would soon be sitting in front of the warm hearth.
Mama rarely made her delicious egg custard anymore, especially since they had sold their best laying hens to the Pattersons. Papa said that the hens would never survive the journey west and that the family needed the money to buy more basic supplies. But this morning Mama had declared that they would have custard for dessert and had sent Thomas for the fresh eggs. He knew that his father and mother had been fasting and praying about the weather and that this special dessert was his mother’s way of expressing gratitude for the slivers of sunshine that had broken through the gray clouds today.
As the family gathered around the table to pray over their simple meal, Thomas could see that his father was discouraged. “There was trouble in town again today,” his father said. “Let us pray that the Lord will provide a way for us to leave Nauvoo before anyone is seriously harmed. We are packed and ready to go. There must be a way!”
Thomas bowed his head along with his parents and brothers and sisters, but in his heart he felt a twinge of fear. He did not want to leave Nauvoo.
Although most of their furniture and farming equipment had been sold to purchase a wagon and food supplies, their home was still cozy and warm, and there was always enough to eat. He had been just a little boy when his family was driven from their home in Missouri by an angry mob and forced to settle in the marshy wetlands of Commerce, Illinois. It had been cold then, too, and he remembered how he had cried for a cup of milk. But over the years, he had seen Commerce become the beautiful city of Nauvoo, a place where the Prophet Joseph Smith would stop and play stickball with Thomas and his friends, then invite them to his home for a glass of cool lemonade. Though it had been a year and a half since the Prophet’s death, he ducked his head to hide his tears.
“Thomas?” his Mama asked softly. “Are you well?”
His older sister, Mary Jane, quietly said, “He doesn’t want to go west, Mama.”
Papa put down his fork and folded his arms across his chest. “Is this true, Son?”
Thomas gulped. “Yes, Papa,” he whispered.
He heard his mother sigh, and he felt ashamed. It had already been decided that Mama would leave her piano and her cherished spinning wheel behind. But she reached across the table and put her hand on top of his. “We all wish we could stay in Nauvoo. Here we have a lovely home, a prosperous farm, good friends and family, even a beautiful new temple. But the Lord has promised us peace, and we will never find that here.”
Thomas nodded and tried to hold back the tears that still pushed against his eyelids. His father saw him struggling and slowly slid back his chair. “Mama, save us some of your custard. Thomas and I are going to check on the horses.”
Thomas put on his overcoat and scarf and followed his father out to the barn. The sky was clear, and the air was as sharp as a knife in his lungs. Inside the barn, his father lit a lantern and stamped his feet. “Mighty cold out tonight,” he said. “We must pray for our brothers and sisters who are spending this night in a tent or a wagon box.”
Thomas plopped down on a bale of hay. “Papa, if we had crossed the river with the others last week, we would be out there in a tent tonight!”
His father sat beside him, reaching out to stroke the mane of his favorite horse. “I know, Son. The Lord works in mysterious ways.”
“Then why can’t we wait until spring … or even summer? Why must we leave now?”
“You do not realize the danger that surrounds us. I was a close friend of the Prophet Joseph, and his enemies are my enemies.” Thomas felt his father tremble beside him. He looked up and saw the scar on his father’s cheek that had come from the leather thong of a bullwhip. He still remembered how his mother had cried over the wound, praying that God would forgive her for thinking terrible thoughts about the man who had whipped her husband. “And I think this is a test of our faith, Son. Will we follow the prophet—or not?”
Thomas blinked his eyes hard. Suddenly he remembered a very special occasion in his life.
It was May 1843, and he had just celebrated his eighth birthday. His mother had made a cake with butter icing, and he was eating a thick slice on the front porch when he saw a tall, handsome man coming down the lane. Thomas recognized him immediately—Brother Joseph—and ran to him.
Brother Joseph chuckled, “What’s this I hear about you today? I knew it was a special day when I woke up to a chorus of birds outside my window!”
“It’s my birthday, Brother Joseph!”
“Your birthday?” The Prophet waved to the boy’s mother in the garden and clasped his father in a warm embrace. “But it isn’t just any birthday, is it?”
“It’s my eighth birthday! Now I can be baptized!”
The Prophet sat on the porch steps and drew the boy down next to him. “A very special day indeed. But why do you want to be baptized?”
Thomas tried to stretch his legs out far like Brother Joseph’s. “So I can be a member of the Church like you and Papa and Mama and my older brothers and sisters!”
Brother Joseph nodded and put his arm around Thomas’s shoulders. “That’s good. But I think there’s more to it than that. If your family and I weren’t here, would you still want to be baptized?”
Thomas thought for a moment. “Yes, I would, Brother Joseph. Jesus wants me to be baptized, and I always want to follow Him.”
Tears filled Joseph’s kind eyes. “I want to follow Him, too, Thomas. It may be hard sometimes, but we will always be blessed.”
Thomas’s father cleared his throat. “Brother Joseph, we would be honored if you would baptize Thomas.”
Joseph laughed joyfully and ruffled Thomas’s hair. “I would be delighted,” he said.
Thomas felt his father’s arm around him. “Are you thinking about Brother Joseph, Thomas?”
“Yes,” was all he managed to whisper.
His father hugged him tighter. “When you are a grown man, your children and grandchildren will ask if you remember when you were baptized. Your heart will burst with pride when you tell them that you were baptized by the Prophet Joseph Smith. And then you will tell them how you followed another prophet of God through snow and cold and all sorts of trials so that they could live in a land of peace and enjoy all the blessings of the gospel without being afraid. For many generations, your family will honor you and be grateful for your sacrifices. Your life will be blessed, Thomas, in more ways than you will ever know.”
After Thomas finished his evening prayer, he crawled under the warm quilt. He could hear his mother and father talking downstairs. He was still afraid of what might happen on their journey west, but he felt a calm reassurance in his heart that all would be well.
The next morning, the family was awakened early by a whoop of joy. “It’s a miracle!” their neighbor, Brother Williams, shouted from the front gate. “The Mississippi River is frozen solid! Load up your wagons—we’re crossing over! The Lord has answered our prayers!”
Yes, He has, Thomas thought as he hurriedly dressed in the cold morning air.

Part of making the change into Relief Society means learning new skills. Probably one of the most important things all three girls learned right away was how to be a good visiting teacher—something none of them had done before.
“The first time I went visiting teaching, I had no clue what I was doing,” says Aubrey. “It was sort of hard to think of things to say, but now I really like it. It’s great to get to know people and help them out.”

Brother Anderson, the dynamic 35-year-old ward Young Men president, was the kind of youth leader everyone admired: returned missionary, father of five, business owner, young at heart. But now he had leukemia. After receiving this news from the bishop, Ryan Hill, the priests quorum first assistant, swung into action, calling each active and less-active priest in his quorum.

“We’re going to the hospital to see Brother Anderson. We need everyone. Can you come?” he repeated during each call.

“I’m not sure I can make it,” one priest said. “I may need to work.”

“Then we will wait until you get off work,” Ryan responded. “This is something we must do together.”

“OK,” the quorum member said. “I will see if I can switch shifts with someone else.”

All 11 priests went to the hospital. Those who were less active and those who never missed a Sunday meeting were there. Together, they laughed and cried and prayed and made future plans. In the ensuing months, they scheduled times to rub Brother Anderson’s feet when his circulation was difficult, took turns donating blood platelets during two-hour sessions so he would get only their blood, and even drove 20 miles (32 km) on prom night with their dates (including two young women who were not members of the Church) to his hospital bedside so he could share in their high school experiences.

In his final days, Brother Anderson asked them to serve missions, marry in the temple, and keep track of each other. More than a dozen years later, home from their missions, married in the temple, and starting families of their own, they still recall these watershed spiritual experiences of service together with their beloved leader.

Norman Hill, Texas, USA

The girls in the Holladay Stake First Ward in Utah, USA, know their activity day plans are much more fun when more girls are involved. That’s why they made a special effort to get every girl in their neighborhood to come to the activities. The group was praying for more members when they realized that there were many girls nearby they could invite to attend. With the help of their leaders, they decided to reach out to their friends from school and in their neighborhood.
At first the girls were nervous to knock on doors and talk to others, but their leaders encouraged them and let them do all the talking. Soon they had many new friends! When they started their project, only four girls were coming regularly. Now the group has more than 20 girls who participate every week!

David looked proudly at his project. He had worked very hard to make it perfect for Mommy. He had even stayed in at recess to finish it instead of play dodgeball with the rest of his first-grade class.
He had started out with a large sheet of plain white paper. Then he had carefully cut out bright yellow flowers, curly red flowers, and big orange flowers with long petals. Next, he had carefully glued them one by one onto his paper. With green crayons of two different shades, he had drawn tall stems and wavy leaves on all the flowers. In the very center of the largest yellow flower, he carefully spelled out “I love you.”
“What a beautiful garden, David,” said his teacher. “Your mother will be very pleased.”
“Thank you,” David answered politely. “I made it big so it would be special.”
After school, he went to the back of the room to get his jacket. He set his lunch box and the picture on the floor while he put on his jacket. When he reached down to pick up his picture, he heard an awful tearing sound. His foot had been on the edge of the paper, and a big piece tore completely off. Sadly, David threw the piece away. The rest was still big enough to be special, but not as big as he had wanted it to be.
He started walking home, holding Mommy’s picture carefully in one hand and his lunch box in the other. As he passed Mrs. Johnson’s house, the picture caught on a branch of her rosebush. One whole corner was ripped into shreds. He tore it off and threw it into a nearby dumpster. He hoped Mommy would like what was left of her picture, even though it wasn’t very big anymore.
A sudden gust of wind tore the paper from his grasp at the corner of his block. He chased it down the sidewalk and finally caught up with it, but not before it had landed partway in a puddle. Nearly everything that was left of Mommy’s garden picture was soggy.
As David entered his own yard, he tossed the damaged part into the big trash can near the gate, saving only the yellow flower that said “I love you.” He trudged into the house. “I have something for you, Mommy,” he called.
“What is it, honey?” she asked, coming to give him a big welcome-home hug.
“It’s a flower. It was a whole garden, and it was special because it was big, but this is all there is left.” He held the yellow flower out to her.
“Why, David, this is perfect!” exclaimed Mommy, taking the flower and giving him another big hug. “And it’s just the right size!”
She went over to the table, picked up her purse, and took out her new wallet. “Look,” she said. “It fits into the last empty window in my wallet. I can take my special flower with me everywhere I go, and it will remind me of the special boy who made it for me!”
David grinned a big, happy, “I love you” grin.

I chose another hero in that little branch of the Church. He was a United States Marine who came to our meetings wearing his green marine uniform. It was wartime, so that alone made him my hero. He had been sent to Princeton University by the marines to further his education. But far more than admiring his military uniform, I watched him play in Palmer Stadium as captain of the Princeton University football team. I saw him play on the university basketball team and also watched him play as the star catcher on their baseball team.
But even more, he came to my home during the week to show me how to shoot a basketball with both my left and my right hand. He told me that I would need that skill because I would someday play basketball on good teams. I did not realize it then, but for years he was, for me, a model of a true priesthood man.
The same is true for the marine who was my childhood hero. He never spoke to me of his priesthood service or of his accomplishments. He just gave service. I learned about his faithfulness from others. If he even saw the characteristics in himself that I admired, I could not tell.

A llie threw a few pencils in her backpack and zipped it up. She was sliding it off her bed when Mom poked her head through the door.
“Is your backpack ready for school tomorrow?” Mom asked.
“Check,” Allie said.
“Brush your teeth?”
Allie smiled wide. “Check.”
“Say your prayers?”
Allie looked up at the ceiling. “Umm … Not check.”
Mom smiled. “I can pray with you if you want.” She knelt by Allie’s bed. After a moment, Allie knelt down beside her.
“Mom, do I have to pray?” Allie whispered. “I feel so silly. It’s like I’m talking to myself.”
Mom nodded. “I’ve felt that way before too. Whenever I feel like I’m just talking to myself, I imagine Heavenly Father next to me. Then it’s like I’m talking with someone in the same room.”
Allie scrunched her mouth into a frown. Was it really that easy?
“It’s hard that we can’t see Heavenly Father. But I know He’s always listening,” Mom said.
Allie folded her arms and listened to Mom pray. She tried hard to feel that Heavenly Father was next to her. Was He really listening?
On Sunday, Sister Oscar put a big mirror in front of the Primary room. Allie tried to get a better look, but she couldn’t see past a kid making funny faces in the mirror.
Then Sister Oscar stood up. Everyone watched as she pulled a cloth out of a bag.
“We’re going to do an activity today,” she said. “I need everyone to make a line from the mirror to the back of the room.”
All the kids stood up and got in line. Allie stood at the end, and she could see Sister Oscar talking to kids in the front. The line got shorter and shorter until it was finally her turn. Allie stepped up to the mirror.
“What do you see?” Sister Oscar asked.
Allie blinked her eyes. The eyes in the mirror blinked too.
“I see me,” she said.
“That’s right. You see your reflection.”
Then Sister Oscar tied the cloth around Allie’s head like a blindfold. Allie couldn’t see anything.
“Can you see your reflection now?” she asked.
“No,” said Allie.
“Is it still there?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know?” asked Sister Oscar.
“Because I’m still in front of the mirror,” Allie said. “I know it’s still there.”
Allie went back to her seat. Sister Oscar stood up at the front of the room.
“Just like your reflection in the mirror, Heavenly Father is with us even when we can’t see Him,” Sister Oscar said. “He is always near us. And the best part is that we can always feel Him close.”
Allie’s arms tingled. Happiness filled her as she realized that what Sister Oscar said was true!
That night Allie was brushing her hair in the bathroom. Mom knocked on the door.
“Are you almost ready for family prayer?” she asked. “It’s your turn to say it.”
Allie looked at herself in the mirror. She imagined Heavenly Father smiling back at her.
“Check!” Allie said.

This has been a most unusual year. For me it began with an assignment from the First Presidency to dedicate a holy temple to the Lord in Durban, South Africa. I will never forget the grandeur of the building. But more than the setting, I will always treasure the dignity of the people who were so well prepared to enter that sacred edifice. They came ready to partake of one of the crowning blessings of the Restoration: the dedication of a house of the Lord. They came with hearts filled with love for Him and His Atonement. They came filled with thanks to our Father in Heaven for providing sacred ordinances that would lead to exaltation. They came worthy.
Temples, no matter where they are, rise above the ways of the world. Every Latter-day Saint temple in the world—all 168 of them—stand as testaments to our faith in eternal life and the joy of spending it with our families and our Heavenly Father. Attending the temple increases our understanding of the Godhead and the everlasting gospel, our commitment to live and teach truth, and our willingness to follow the example of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
On the outside of every temple in the Church are the fitting words “Holiness to the Lord.” The temple is the Lord’s house and a sanctuary from the world. His Spirit envelops those who worship within those sacred walls. He sets the standards by which we enter as His guests.
My father-in-law, Blaine Twitchell, one of the best men I have ever known, taught me a great lesson. Sister Rasband and I went to visit him when he was nearing the end of his mortal journey. As we entered his room, his bishop was just leaving. As we greeted the bishop, I thought, “What a nice bishop. He’s here doing his ministering to a faithful member of his ward.”
I mentioned to Blaine, “Wasn’t that nice of the bishop to come visit.”
Blaine looked at me and responded, “It was far more than that. I asked for the bishop to come because I wanted my temple recommend interview. I want to go recommended to the Lord.” And he did!
That phrase, “recommended to the Lord,” has stayed with me. It has put a whole new perspective on being interviewed regularly by our Church leaders. So important is a temple recommend that in the early Church, until 1891, each temple recommend was endorsed by the President of the Church.
Whether for youth or adults, your temple recommend interview is not about do’s and don’ts. A recommend is not a checklist, a hall pass, or a ticket for special seating. It has a much higher and holier purpose. To qualify for the honor of a temple recommend, you must live in harmony with the teachings of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
In your interview you have the opportunity to search your soul about your personal faith in Jesus Christ and His Atonement. You have the blessing to express your testimony of the restored gospel; your willingness to sustain those whom the Lord has called to lead His Church; your faith in the doctrine of the gospel; your fulfillment of family responsibilities; and your qualities of honesty, chastity, fidelity, obedience, and observance of the Word of Wisdom, the law of tithing, and the sanctity of the Sabbath day. Those are bedrock principles of a life devoted to Jesus Christ and His work.
Your temple recommend reflects a deep, spiritual intent that you are striving to live the laws of the Lord and love what He loves: humility, meekness, steadfastness, charity, courage, compassion, forgiveness, and obedience. And you commit yourself to those standards when you sign your name to that sacred document.
Your temple recommend opens the gates of heaven for you and others with rites and ordinances of eternal significance, including baptisms, endowments, marriages, and sealings.
To be “recommended to the Lord” is to be reminded of what is expected of a covenant-keeping Latter-day Saint. My father-in-law, Blaine, saw it as invaluable preparation for the day when he would humbly stand before the Lord.
Consider when Moses climbed Mount Horeb and the Lord Jehovah appeared to him in a burning bush. God told him, “Put off thy shoes from off thy feet, for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground.”
Putting off our shoes at the door of the temple is letting go of worldly desires or pleasures that distract us from spiritual growth, setting aside those things which sidetrack our precious mortality, rising above contentious behavior, and seeking time to be holy.
By divine design, our physical body is a creation of God, a temple for our spirit, and should be treated with reverence. So true are the words of the Primary song: “My body is a temple [that] needs the greatest care.” When the Lord appeared to the Nephites, He commanded, “Be sanctified by the reception of the Holy Ghost, that ye may stand spotless before me.” “What manner of men ought ye to be?” asked the Lord and then answered, “Even as I am.” To be “recommended to the Lord,” we strive to be like Him.
I remember hearing President Howard W. Hunter in his first general conference address as the 14th President of the Church. He said: “It is the deepest desire of my heart to have every member of the Church worthy to enter the temple. It would please the Lord if every adult member would be worthy of?—and carry?—a current temple recommend.” I would add that a limited-use recommend will set a clear path for our precious youth.
President Russell M. Nelson recalled President Hunter’s words: “On that day, June 6, 1994, the temple recommend that we carry became a different object in my wallet. Before that, it was a means to an end. It was the means to allow me to enter a sacred house of the Lord; but after he made that declaration, that became an end in itself. It became my badge of obedience to a prophet of God.”
If you have yet to receive a recommend or if your recommend has lapsed, line up at the door of the bishop just as the early Saints lined up at the door of the Nauvoo Temple in 1846. My ancestors were among those faithful. They were abandoning their beautiful city and going west, but they knew that there were sacred experiences awaiting them in the temple. Wrote Sarah Rich from the rugged trail in Iowa, “If it had not been for the faith and knowledge that was bestowed upon us in that temple … , our journey would have been like … taking a leap in the dark.” That is what we are missing if we are going through this life alone without the inspiration and peace promised in the temple.
Begin the process now to become “recommended to the Lord” so that His Spirit will be with you in abundance and His standards will bring you “peace of conscience.”
Your youth leaders, elders quorum president, Relief Society president, and ministering brothers and sisters will help you prepare, and your bishop or branch president lovingly will guide you.
We have been experiencing a time when temples have been closed or limited in use. For President Nelson and those of us who serve at his side, the inspired decision to close the temples was “painful” and “wracked with worry.” President Nelson found himself asking, “What would I say to the Prophet Joseph Smith? What would I say to Brigham Young, Wilford Woodruff and the other Presidents, on up to President Thomas S. Monson?”
Now, we gradually and gratefully are reopening temples for sealings and endowments on a limited scale.
Being worthy to attend the temple, however, has not been suspended. Let me emphasize, whether you have access to a temple or not, you need a current temple recommend to stay firmly on the covenant path.
Late last year Sister Rasband and I were on assignment in New Zealand speaking with a large group of young single adults. They had no easy access to a temple; the one in Hamilton was being renovated, and they were still awaiting the groundbreaking for the temple in Auckland. However, I felt prompted to encourage them to renew or receive temple recommends.
Even though they could not present them at the temple, they would be presenting themselves before the Lord pure and prepared to serve Him. Being worthy to hold a current temple recommend is both a protection from the adversary, because you have made a firm commitment to the Lord about your life, and a promise that the Spirit will be with you.
We do temple work when we search for our ancestors and submit their names for ordinances. While our temples have been closed, we have still been able to research our families. With the Spirit of God in our hearts, we are, by proxy, standing in for them to be “recommended to the Lord.”
When I was serving as the Executive Director of the Temple Department, I heard President Gordon B. Hinckley refer to this scripture spoken by the Lord about the Nauvoo Temple: “Let the work of my temple, and all the works which I have appointed unto you, be continued on and not cease; and let your diligence, and your perseverance, and patience, and your works be redoubled, and you shall in nowise lose your reward, saith the Lord of Hosts.”
Our work in the temple is tied to our eternal reward. Recently we have been put to the test. The Lord has called us to work in the temples with “diligence, … perseverance, and patience.” Being “recommended to the Lord” requires those qualities. We must be diligent in living the commandments, persevere in our attention to our temple covenants, and be grateful for what the Lord continues to teach about them and be patient as we wait for temples to reopen in their fulness.
When the Lord calls for us to “redouble” our efforts, He is asking that we increase in righteousness. For example, we may expand our study of the scriptures, our family history research, and our prayers of faith that we may share our love for the Lord’s house with those preparing to receive a temple recommend, our family members in particular.
I promise you as an Apostle of the Lord Jesus Christ that as you strive to redouble your righteous efforts, you will feel renewed in your devotion to God the Father and Jesus Christ, you will feel an abundance of the Holy Ghost guiding you, you will be grateful for your sacred covenants, and you will feel peace knowing you are “recommended to the Lord.” In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

In recent days we have had the honor of having again in our home as a guest a noble, quiet man from Mali, West Africa, an elder in the Church, who has taught his people how to dig wells for themselves and how to use the water on gardens which miraculously produce fresh vegetables and grain that grow on land which heretofore has grudgingly yielded only meager crops of millet. Literacy and health programs have been introduced.

Many other special examples of the strength of Christ’s mission crowd the memory. I share just one or two. Some years ago I was privileged to dedicate a chapel built by the Church in the Kalaupapa leper colony on the island of Molokai in the Hawaiian Islands. The experience was tender and touching and unforgettable.

A musical number by the branch choir, comprising most of the members of the branch, was a poignant highlight. They came forward haltingly from the congregation, many being helped by others to the front of the small, attractive building. They arranged themselves in choir grouping, some of them literally leaning for support against each other. The sight was one that will linger in memory. Many were blind and many halt and lame. They literally supported each other as they sang hymns of praise and thanksgiving to God.

There were a lot of tears at Kalaupapa that day.

As Easter time approaches, let me share with you the tender story of an eleven-year-old boy named Philip, a Down’s syndrome child who was in a Sunday School class with eight other children.

Easter Sunday the teacher brought an empty plastic egg for each child. They were instructed to go out of the church building onto the grounds and put into the egg something that would remind them of the meaning of Easter.

All returned joyfully. As each egg was opened there were exclamations of delight at a butterfly, a twig, a flower, a blade of grass. Then the last egg was opened. It was Philip’s, and it was empty!

Some of the children made fun of Philip. “But, teacher,” he said, “teacher, the tomb was empty.”

A newspaper article announcing Philip’s death a few months later noted that at the conclusion of the funeral eight children marched forward and put a large empty egg on the small casket. On it was a banner that said, “The tomb was empty.”

A therapist in Chile noticed that several people in her branch seemed depressed and lonely, especially during the winter months.
Meanwhile, when asked about challenges in her area of South Africa, a therapist mentioned addiction and economic difficulties.
And a therapist in Portugal brought up how social media pressure seems to be contributing to significant anxiety in the young people she knows.
Challenges like this exist pretty much everywhere, don’t they? True, some specific pressures and stressors might be unique to a culture or circumstance. But in many ways, the patterns of mental health challenges are universal.
“It is crucial to remember that we are living—and chose to live—in a fallen world where for divine purposes our pursuit of godliness will be tested and tried again and again,” said President Jeffrey R. Holland, Acting President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles.
Understanding this, and knowing that Jesus Christ is the Master Healer, professionals within the Church have created mental health resources to help members connect with hope and help. These resources acknowledge both what we understand scientifically about mental health as well as what we understand spiritually about gospel truths.
Whether or not you currently struggle with feeling emotionally well, these resources are worth exploring. Chances are, someone in your sphere of influence does struggle from time to time. By understanding the situation and what help is available, you will be better equipped to be an answer to their prayers. And you’ll be strengthened in the process.
In the Gospel Library, the Church provides many resources for those who are struggling, as well as for their loved ones and leaders.
In the Gospel Library app, look for a tile labeled “Life Help.” Tap on that to display a variety of topics, including “Mental Health.”
At ChurchofJesusChrist.org, look under “Libraries,” “Life Help,” and “Mental and Emotional Health.”
“Many factors can contribute to mental health challenges—genetics, environment, impairing accidents, life circumstances, and, at times, choices,” states one section. “Regardless of the contributing factors, we can draw strength from the Savior.”
In some languages, you’ll see links to crisis helplines around the world. Many countries now offer free, confidential services through phone calls or text messaging. Ward and branch leaders could encourage members to add these numbers to their list of contacts to be ready to use if they ever feel they are in crisis.
Additionally, this Life Help section shares real-life accounts of those who have found peace despite emotional and mental health challenges.
“One of the hardest things about mental illness is that you feel really isolated and alone,” said Eldon, who was diagnosed with bipolar disorder.
Connecting with therapists and medication, accepting love from friends, adjusting expectations, and being willing to embrace the Lord’s help have all been tools that Eldon practices as part of his wellness journey. “You can do more than you could do on your own if you rely on the Savior,” he said.

In March of 1967, early in my service as a member of the Council of the Twelve, I was attending a conference of the Monument Park West Stake in Salt Lake City. My companion for the conference was a member of the General Church Welfare Committee, Paul C. Child. President Child was a student of the scriptures. He had been my stake president during my Aaronic Priesthood years. Now we were together as conference visitors.
When it was his opportunity to participate, President Child took in hand the Doctrine and Covenants and left the pulpit to stand among the priesthood brethren to whom he was directing his message. He turned to section 18 and began to read:
“Remember the worth of souls is great in the sight of God. …
“And if it so be that you should labor all your days in crying repentance unto this people, and bring, save it be one soul unto me, how great shall be your joy with him in the kingdom of my Father!”
President Child then raised his eyes from the scriptures and asked the brethren, “What is the worth of a human soul?” He avoided calling on a bishop, a stake president, or a high councilor for a response. Instead he selected the president of an elders quorum, a brother who had been a bit drowsy and had missed the significance of the question.
The startled man responded, “Brother Child, could you please repeat the question?”
The question was repeated: “What is the worth of a human soul?”
I knew President Child’s style. I prayed fervently for that quorum president. He remained silent for what seemed like an eternity and then declared, “Brother Child, the worth of a human soul is its capacity to become as God.”
All present pondered that reply. Brother Child returned to the stand, leaned over to me, and said, “A profound reply; a profound reply!” He proceeded with his message, but I continued to reflect on that inspired response.

A week later my mother died. How would it be in a motherless home, without the encouraging look of a proud mother to push us along when times got rough? I thought mothers were always supposed to be there. Who was going to teach me all the things mothers are supposed to teach their daughters? Who was I going to have those special talks with? Why did it have to be my mother?
My father knew it was up to him. It must have been like a building falling on him to have all the responsibility of raising the family. After losing the woman he loved so dearly, he had to be strong to set the example for his family. He did. I remember him standing there and asking us if we understood about paradise and heaven. We all hesitated, as if a nod of approval to his question was an approval for her to die, but then with great effort he told us she was gone. My father’s a big man, but he was even bigger then, when I knew that inside his heart was broken and he was full of loneliness.

As a new member of the Church, I really wanted to serve because I constantly saw other people serving. I prayed a lot that God would give me someone to serve. One night in a dream, I saw a woman on the subway who needed help after falling off her chair. Later, while my dad and I traveled on the subway, I saw a woman fall off her chair. It was the same woman from my dream! It was a sacred experience for me to be able to help her.
“I prayed a lot that God would give me someone to serve. One night in a dream, I saw a woman on the subway.”

Several years after I was married, I was called to teach a Sunday School class of 15-year-olds. It was a large class of enthusiastic and energetic students. I had to prepare well each week in order to stay ahead of them.
One Sunday after class a young man waited for the room to clear and then asked if we could talk privately for a moment. He poured out his heart to me about a moral transgression that he was involved in. He cried, and I could see that his heart was filled with great remorse.
I encouraged him to go see the bishop, and eventually I went with him to his appointment and waited outside. Of course, I was not privy to what happened from there, but almost immediately I saw the dark veil of sorrow, grief, evil, and contempt lift from this young man’s face. In time he was back to being the normal and fine young man that I had known him to be for some years previous. Repentance cleansed his soul and it cleansed his heart, mind, and even his face. His eyes were brighter, his smile broader, and his walk and the way he carried himself suggested happiness.

Mary Elizabeth Rollins was just a young teenager when she went to a missionary meeting at the Isaac Morley farm. Isaac Morley had the only copy of the Book of Mormon in that area at the time, and Mary Elizabeth pleaded with him to let her take it home to read. She pleaded so earnestly that he let her take it, but only if she would return it before breakfast the next morning.
As soon as she got home, she and her uncle took turns reading the Book of Mormon until late that night. At dawn she got up and memorized the first verse before taking the book back to Brother Morley.
When she gave it to him, he was surprised to see how much of it she and her uncle had read. And when she recited the first verse and the outline of Nephi’s history, to her delight he told her to take the book back with her and finish it. He would gladly wait for it, knowing that she cherished it as he did.

When our daughter Aris submitted her recommendation form to serve a mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, my wife and I prayed fervently that she would be called to serve in a safe place. Every parent desires the safety of his or her children, even as we strive to trust in the Lord’s will. We never imagined the series of tender mercies that would soon be manifested.
Over the years, our family has been blessed through temple covenants, and our children have been raised in the light of the gospel. As my oldest daughter prepared to serve a mission, my wife and I were nervous and excited, wondering where she might serve.
The long-awaited day came for my daughter to open her mission call.
“Dear Sister Ledesma,” she read, “you are called to serve as a missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Your assignment is to work in the Hawaii Laie Mission. It is anticipated that you will serve for 18 months. …”
At first, we wondered: Hawaii? We had never heard of someone from the Dominican Republic going to serve on a mission in Hawaii. But then a wave of excitement and relief came over us. Our prayers had been answered. Hawaii seemed like a safe and quiet place for our daughter to serve, especially given the turmoil in various parts of the world. We were immensely grateful. However, as we took in the news, we began to realize this calling involved more than just physical safety: It was a deep, personal testimony of the Lord’s hand in our lives.
Whether by coincidence or divine design, the missionary who shared the gospel with me many years ago is from Hawaii and resides in the Laie Mission. The missionary who taught my wife the gospel was also from Hawaii and still lives there. Either way, it was a blessing for us.
I contacted Brother Underwood, the missionary who taught me, and told him about what had happened. Days later, we talked on the phone. He said, “I have been thinking about this more over the last two weeks and thinking what a blessing it will be to meet her and have her bring the gospel to my home island as I brought it to your island. What a blessing. She’ll be like a little girl of mine as long as she’s here.”
Last September, my daughter was serving in the Laie Third Ward, where Brother Underwood was baptized and grew up. He was very happy to visit his old ward and see my daughter, Sister Ledesma. When he saw her, Brother Underwood was filled with joy, realizing that the opportunity to share the gospel with me over 25 years ago had paid off—generations had been changed.
What were the possibilities? It became clear that this was no ordinary mission call. The Lord had prepared our daughter to serve in a place that had special meaning for our family—where missionaries who had changed her parents’ lives lived. It was a tender mercy, a beautiful manifestation that the Lord was aware of our family and His involvement in our lives.

I have seen that same heart in the Saints of the Pacific. In a small village on one of these islands, an older man and his wife accepted the invitation of the missionaries to sincerely ask the Lord if the lessons they were being taught were true. In this process, they also considered the consequences of the commitments that they would need to make if the answer that they received led to their accepting the restored gospel. They fasted and prayed to know the truthfulness of the Church and the veracity of the Book of Mormon. The answer to their prayers came in the form of a sweet but ringing affirmation: “Yes! It is true!”

Having received this witness, they chose to be baptized. This was not a choice without personal cost. Their decision and baptism carried with them a high price. They lost employment, they sacrificed social standing, important friendships dissolved, and the support, love, and respect of family were withdrawn. They now walked to church each Sunday, exchanging awkward glances with friends and neighbors who were walking in the opposite direction.

In these difficult circumstances, this good brother was asked how he felt about their decision to join the Church. His simple and unwavering reply was “It is true, isn’t it? Our choice was clear.”

These two newly converted Saints truly had the heart of the widow. They, like the widow, “cast in all” that they could give, knowingly giving of their “want.” As a product of their believing hearts and enduring faith during those hard times, their burdens were lightened. They were aided and surrounded by supportive and ministering Church members, and they were personally strengthened by their service in Church callings.

After they cast in their “all,” the greatest day came when they were sealed in the temple as an eternal family. Like He did the converts under Alma’s leadership, “the Lord did strengthen them that they could bear up their burdens with ease, and they did submit cheerfully and with patience to all the will of the Lord.” Such is the heart of the widow exemplified in this wonderful couple.

As a teenager, Linda Kjar Burton had a sudden realization during a Church meeting in Christchurch, New Zealand. “I knew the gospel was true,” she recalled. “I was also aware I had always known.” That testimony will now sustain her as she serves as Relief Society general president.

Born in Salt Lake City, Utah, USA, to Marjorie C. and Morris A. Kjar, Sister Burton was 13 years old when her family left Utah so her father could preside over the New Zealand South Mission. Sister Burton—the second of six children—attended the Church College of New Zealand and associated with Latter-day Saint teens from across the Pacific. She returned to Salt Lake City with not only a love for varied cultures and traditions but especially for the Lord and for her family.

Sister Burton was attending the University of Utah when she met and married Craig P. Burton in August 1973 in the Salt Lake Temple. The couple decided not to delay starting a family; the first of their six children was born almost a year later.

Working together with her husband, she was able to stay home with the children while he made a career in real estate. Early financial challenges taught the couple to look to the future with confidence “because we knew we had done something hard with the help of the Lord,” she explained.

The family took simple vacations and enjoyed being together. Sister Burton served in Young Women, Primary, and Sunday School and on the Primary and Relief Society general boards. She served together with her husband as he presided over the Korea Seoul West Mission from 2007 to 2010. In the mission field, Sister Burton realized—just as she had years earlier in New Zealand—that love transcends language and culture.

She hopes in her new assignment that something she learned from a friend in Korea will apply again: “They will feel your love.”