Gospel Story Finder

Church leaders were assigned by the First Presidency of the Church to reorganise the stake presidency. They had prayed and received impressions to their hearts and minds (See Doctrine and Covenants 8:2) that Kumaitotoya, who was then serving as a bishop, was the man the Lord had chosen.
Kaumaititoya received authority to lead the stake as Church leaders placed their hands on his head and blessed him in the same manner as the disciples were in the Biblical account found in John 15.
Elder David A. Bednar, of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, taught that the priesthood is the authority to act in the name of Jesus Christ. He said, “Because Christ is not here with us, His priesthood is needed to teach His doctrine and to perform the ordinances of salvation. Priesthood authority is given to worthy male members of the Church and is received ‘by the laying on of hands by those who are in authority, to preach the Gospel and administer in the ordinances thereof’ (Articles of Faith 1:5). Theological training or reading the Bible does not convey priesthood authority; rather, it comes from God according to the pattern He has established.”1
The call in 2013 came as a surprise to 45-year-old Solomone Kaumaititoya. It was not something for which he sought or to which he aspired. In fact, it caused him deep introspection and feelings of inadequacy. He would continue in his full-time career as an airline purser to financially support his family.
Kaumaititoya prayed fervently, asking, “Lord, what do you want me to do? What do you want me to say?” He also wondered, “How can I still do my job and be a stake president?”
The answers came to Kaumaitotoya in the form of scriptures and dreams that penetrated his heart deeply.
The words found in Moses 1:39, “For behold, this is my work and my glory—to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man,” left an impression upon Kaumaititoya. He said, “This was a call to do the Lord’s work. It wasn’t about me.”
Dreams came to President Kaumaititoya every few days when he was first called. He was shown some of the events that would happen in the stake. He said, “I knew what to do because I had seen it in a dream.”
He found that his life experiences had also prepared him in ways he couldn’t foresee. President Kaumaititoya had a very difficult childhood. As a young teenager, he climbed a hill one day to pray and to ask God why he had to go through such hard things.
He recalled, “I was really angry with God. I couldn’t understand why the Lord would let me go through such hard things. I was asking Him why?”
Kaumaititoya didn’t understand, at first, the answer that came on the hill that day: “For your experience.”
As he served, he made sense of what “for your experience” meant, when a teary congregant walked into his office to seek his ecclesiastical counsel about a similar family situation. Afterwards, it dawned on Kaumaititoya what the answer to his boyhood prayer meant. His path and his challenges had prepared him to minister to and serve people with understanding and love.
Lavinia Kaumaitotoya voiced her gratitude for her husband’s opportunity to serve. She said, “I have seen my husband grow and change to become a more spiritual, loving father and husband. I have seen him coming to know the Saviour.”
Latter-day Saints believe that callings or invitations to accept responsibilities or offices in the Church, are opportunities for growth and refinement. Serving the Lord and others in these volunteer roles increases love for God and for His children. It is a blessing to sacrifice time and energy for the Lord and to be called by Him to do His work.
Nine years ago, when Lavinia and Solomone Kaumaitotoya learned that it was time for a new stake president to be called, they fasted and prayed. They called upon the Lord to bless those seeking inspiration to know who the Lord wanted to lead their stake. They prayed that their stake would be blessed.
Almost as a bookend, the Kaumaitotoya’s again fasted and prayed the week before the stake conference when Solomone would be released as stake president, offering prayers of gratitude, and seeking blessings for the new stake president.
Solomone Kaumaitotoya declared, “President Adrian Yee has the authority to lead the stake now, and I sustain him. I’m ready to do whatever the Lord wants me to do.”

Like many young men in the Church, I had my own excuses for not reading the Book of Mormon: summer skies, winter sports, other reading, and a bit of laziness. And when I did start to read, I could not get past the fourth chapter of First Nephi. The shock of reading Nephi’s account of how he decapitated Laban delayed my further reading of the Book of Mormon until I was well into my fifteenth year. I simply could not reconcile what seemed an act of cruelty with my idea of what a gentleman was.
When I was fifteen I was called as a building missionary. The president of the Swedish Mission at the time, Alvin W. Fletcher, knew what to do with a young man whose testimony needed strengthening.
When I left for this mission, I promised myself that I would read the standard works of the Church before returning home. After several months at the Cubbangen Chapel, south of Stockholm, and an interlude at Tampere, Finland, I was transferred to Turku where, after finishing the Bible, I felt ready to grapple with the Book of Mormon.
I don’t remember much about the city, just what I saw on the daily walks back and forth to the building site in the bitter cold. Because the Book of Mormon kept me in such suspense, I couldn’t think of much else. I was eager to get home from work every day to continue my reading. This was the first time I had really hungered and thirsted for the word of the Lord. Lying on my bed night after night in a room in the meeting house, reading the words of Nephi and the other Book of Mormon prophets, I received a testimony from God that the book was true.
My favorite part of the Book of Mormon was—and still is—Third Nephi. Many times, while reading of how the resurrected Christ taught the Nephites his gospel, I have felt as if I were actually there in his presence. And for me, nothing else in the scriptures equals chapter nineteen of Third Nephi, which documents how Jesus poured out his heart to his Father in behalf of his disciples. More than once I have wept while reading it.
Now I thank God that a just man named Nephi, who at first shrank from the Lord’s command to kill Laban, obeyed God and brought about his righteous purposes. Had it not been for Nephi and the subsequent keepers of the sacred record, I could never have discovered the goodness of God in that matchless volume of scripture, the Book of Mormon.

Wise parents see in every need of others a way to bring blessings into the lives of their sons and daughters. Three children recently carried containers holding a delicious dinner to our front door. Their parents knew that we needed help, and they included their children in the opportunity to serve us.
The parents blessed our family by their generous service. By their choice to let their children participate in the giving, they extended blessings to their future grandchildren. The smiles of the children as they left our home made me confident that will happen. They will tell their children of the joy they felt giving kindly service for the Lord. I remember that feeling of quiet satisfaction from childhood as I pulled weeds for a neighbor at my father’s invitation. Whenever I am invited to be a giver, I remember and believe the lyrics “Sweet is the work, my God, my King.”
I know those lyrics were written to describe the joy that comes from worshipping the Lord on the Sabbath. But those children with the food at our door were feeling on a weekday the joy of doing the Lord’s work. And their parents saw the opportunity to do good and spread joy over generations.

Although his acting career is just starting, Tracey is already receiving praise for his ability. He is also drawing attention to his way of life. Wherever he has worked, he has influenced other members of the casts and crews. On one occasion a cast member told him, "Everybody on this set is searching for what you already have." A cast member of Joe Panther wouldn’t even drink coffee when Tracey was on the set. "I’ve taken up drinking orange juice because that is what you drink," he said.

I desire to mention another special personal experience. I was teaching a class of many, many people in a chapel and adjoining cultural hall at the university. It was too large a class to permit much participation, but one night, facing maybe six or seven hundred people, I looked down and saw a face and said, “Bishop Garrett, do you have something you would like to share with us on the subject we are discussing?” This startled him for a moment, and then he said, “Yes, I think I do, Brother Hanks.”

He came to the front and spoke: “A wonderful older couple lived in our ward. I was their bishop, and I also became almost like a son to them. They had no relatives and really no close friends. For reasons not necessary to mention, they moved to a little town far from this city. We kept in touch by phone because they had so few other contacts in this country.

“Then one night, as I walked to an early meeting of my bishopric, I had a clear vision. I am not a visionary man, but in my mind I saw something that night. I saw a long, narrow, oblong room with a casket at one end and a lady standing alone by it. I had read of the husband’s death in the morning newspaper. I had said to my wife, ‘We ought to go, but I can’t. I have an important meeting that I cannot miss.’

“I rushed to the meeting that evening and told my counselors I had made a bad mistake and should be someplace else and asked them to go on without me. I drove too swiftly all the way to that small town with its small mortuary. I went inside the long, narrow room, and there inside was my vision specifically fulfilled: a single, solitary little soul standing by the casket of her beloved, her husband of many years. I went to her and held out my arms. She said, ‘Oh, Bishop Garrett, I knew you would come.’”

Well, we ended the class with a testimony and an expression of gratitude. I knew what the Lord had wanted us to learn that night.

I remember the story of one young woman who was put in a similar situation. She was out on a date with a young man. He went out to a remote area, parked the car, turned the key off, and began to move over to the passenger side.

She said, “Stop where you are. I am not that kind of a girl. You take me home, or I will walk.” She was seven or eight miles away from her home. Later, she said, “I was never more frightened in my life when I made the decision, as well as when he took me home, because we were going 90 miles an hour down that country road.” And yet she had already made her decision.

One final example came from an experience a couple of years ago. My wife, Alisa, and I decided to participate in a Triathlon. After swimming and biking, the final segment of the race was a 10k (6.2 mile) run. In order to reach the finish line, runners had to navigate a short, narrow, downhill path, which was only wide enough for one person. This section of the path was only about 30-40 meters long before it entered onto a golf course for the last 200 meters of the race. Due to the different starting times, I had already finished the race and was waiting for my wife to make it to the finish line. As I waited I started to see some commotion in the trees where the path narrowed. A runner had collapsed in that narrow section. With the finish line in sight a few people started jumping over the downed runner racing to the finish wanting to get a good time. My wife however, was the one who stopped, assisted the runner and gave her the help she so desperately needed.

How do you get back to feeling good again? I have a young grandson named Adam. When he was three, we were having a family gathering at our house. It had snowed, and we looked out and saw Adam in the front yard in his Sunday clothes, making designs in the snow with his feet. His mother went out and asked him to come in, but he refused. She reminded him that he was getting cold and that he was ruining his Sunday clothes. Still he was defiant and not feeling the Spirit at all.
Next I went out. He was walking up the street, blue with cold, and crying. “Adam,” I said, “would you like to hold Grandpa’s hand and walk back to the house with me?” He stuck his tongue out at me. Finally, his Aunt Becky went out and picked up Adam screaming and kicking and carried him back into the house.
A while later, Adam was wrapped in a blanket and was a cheerful little boy. I asked him, “Adam, what did you do to feel better?” Adam said, “I prayed.”

In 2001 Juanita was diagnosed with advanced breast cancer and was given a 50 percent chance for five-year survival. Our best option was to pursue an aggressive but very taxing course of chemotherapy, surgery, and radiation. We were discouraged when after eight weeks of nauseating chemo the large tumor had not shrunk at all. During this trial I went jogging and recited the proclamation as loud as I could to relieve the stress I was feeling. It comforted me.
On one jog when I got to “Successful marriages and families are established and maintained on principles of faith, prayer,” I stopped. I felt a sense of peace as an impression formed in my mind. It was the Saturday morning before fast Sunday, and I felt inspired to send an e-mail to everyone I knew, inviting them to fast and pray and exercise their faith for Juanita so that the chemotherapy would be effective. We received a great outpouring of support. Even friends of other faiths described powerful experiences with fasting and prayer. Without our asking them to do so, friends in Australia, Japan, Hawaii, Salt Lake, Boston, Belgium, and South Africa put Juanita’s name on the prayer roll in their temples. The results were miraculous. Immediately our mood and our faith improved. And during the next four weeks of treatments, the tumor almost totally disappeared. Juanita finished the treatment, and no measurable cancer remained. We were so grateful! But this wasn’t the end of our trials or of the continued comfort the proclamation brought us.
In early 2004 we were devastated to learn that Juanita’s cancer had returned, this time in her lungs. In somber tones our doctor told us he would try to keep the cancer under control as long as possible, but there was now no possible cure. At first I felt betrayed and hopeless. Juanita and I had righteous desires and plans. What about the missions we were going to serve together? What about the grandchildren we were going to strengthen spiritually? How could this happen to us?
As I went through the proclamation again, this time it was as if someone turned a flashlight on to highlight the words “Children are entitled to birth within the bonds of matrimony, and to be reared by a father and a mother.” I recognized my children were entitled to be raised by a father and a mother. This statement filled me with hope that in the face of very large medical odds Juanita would be blessed with a miracle and be healed.
We lived a fairly normal and hopeful life for about six months, but then the cancer began to take its unmistakable toll. Juanita lost weight rapidly and acquired a nearly constant and uncomfortable cough. Even the smallest exertion left her struggling for breath. Things seemed always to get worse and never better. Soon it became apparent that it was not God’s will for Juanita to live very much longer. I was at a complete loss to explain why God had not stepped forward with the miracle we so badly needed and so sincerely hoped for. But then again the words of the proclamation provided inspiration and comfort: “Sacred ordinances and covenants available in holy temples make it possible for individuals to return to the presence of God and for families to be united eternally.” Through many tears my understanding was enlarged to see that Juanita would indeed receive a miraculous healing. Because of the plan of salvation, Juanita would pass from this life into a beautiful place to be greeted by her father, our daughter who had passed away, and the Savior. Because of the Atonement of Jesus Christ, Juanita would be healed and at the Resurrection receive a perfect body, free from cancer and any other illness. I could also see that through all eternity our children would have access to her influence as their mother—another miracle.
I also felt impressed that there was much we could yet do in this life to give the children continued access to her wisdom. I received a clear impression that it was time for us to stop focusing our faith on a physical miracle that was not in keeping with God’s will and focus instead on learning as much as we could from Juanita in the short time we had left. We needed to be better prepared “to return to the presence of God and for [our family] to be united eternally.” In our family testimony meeting we expressed these feelings poignantly, and their truth washed over us all. Then we went to work.
Juanita wrote her testimony of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ, and I wrote mine as well. We printed and laminated them along with our pictures in a size that would fit in the children’s scriptures. Juanita then wrote long letters in her own hand to each of the children, expressing appreciation and offering words of encouragement and advice. We recorded Juanita’s sweet voice singing hymns, Primary songs, and childhood lullabies and made CDs for each of the children and for future grandchildren. We also recorded messages to be listened to on special occasions such as going to the temple, leaving on a mission, getting married, giving birth to a child. Juanita crocheted baby blankets and bibs for future grandchildren. Our lives now became focused, full of activity, and we received great comfort from the Spirit. All this came as a result of inspiration from the proclamation.
All of our children were at Juanita’s side when she died, and each had the opportunity to share tender communication with her. She was alert and talked to us until about 10 minutes before she passed away. That’s when I told her, “I love you,” and she responded in Spanish, “Lo mismo,” which means “Same to you.” Those were her last words. Her passing was sweet.
I have marveled at the numerous specific and personal ways the proclamation has blessed me and my family since that Saturday night more than a decade ago when I first heard it. It has changed our lives forever. It is the word of God, and it can be the basis for great joy and happiness in family life, even in the midst of unfathomable trials. I know by the Spirit that “The Family: A Proclamation to the World” is an inspired document for families today, and if seriously studied, it will open the windows of divine assistance for our families.

The news was heartbreaking. Doctors informed the family that their father had cancer and would live only a few more months at best. Medical science could do no more.
One of the grief-stricken sons was a nuclear engineer, an expert on what man can do through the miracles of technology. But in this situation, technology was helpless.
In a spirit of fasting and prayer, Richard Scott and his four brothers gathered in a circle and gave their father a priesthood blessing in which he was promised a full recovery. The blessing was fulfilled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Brother Berlin told the story of a brother who had joined the Church in St. Petersburg, Russia, many years ago and felt prompted to return home to Armenia to build up the kingdom. He did so, and a year later Brother Berlin arrived to begin the scripture translation work.
The man had helped in the translation of the Book of Mormon, published in 2000, and after his English skills increased, he became the translator of the Doctrine and Covenants and Pearl of Great Price in the full triple combination.

During the pandemic I have met with youth from all over the world in many devotionals, large and small, through broadcasts and social media, and we have discussed their questions.

Youth often ask me what I believe and why I believe.

I remember visiting virtually with one young woman in her home. I asked if it was the first time an Apostle had been in her home. She quickly smiled and responded, “Yes.” Her question for me was good: “What are the most important things I should know?”

I answered with the things of my soul, the things that prepare me to hear promptings, that lift my sights beyond the ways of the world, that give purpose to my work in the gospel and to my very life.

We have a prophet of God on the earth today! Never discount what that means for you. Remember the young woman I mentioned at the beginning. She wanted to know what things matter most. “Follow the living prophet,” I said then and I emphasize again today.

To illustrate the joy and process of “becoming,” I would like to share a personal experience. As I share this experience, I invite you to ponder how the Savior’s divine help is strengthening you in your joyful challenge to become.

Years ago, I was invited to participate in a local triathlon. A triathlon consists of three disciplines: swimming, cycling, and running. Having been a runner, and an occasional cyclist, I thought, “why not?” and accepted the invitation.

The race was a few months away, so I organized my schedule to make time for training. Running and cycling came more naturally, but I quickly discovered that I was not a swimmer. While others glided effortlessly through the water, I felt like I was swimming uphill.

Just a few laps in the pool left me feeling exhausted, and the thought of swimming more than half a mile in my first race felt overwhelming, even impossible.

I could almost imagine the headlines: “Man who couldn’t swim drowns in local triathlon—what was he thinking?”

Still, I pressed on. I kept going to the pool. After months of consistent training, my fitness and technique began to improve. When the race day arrived, I felt as ready as I could be.

My first triathlon experience was far from easy, but I completed the race. I wasn’t the fastest, but I learned and found it to be something I enjoyed.

After a few years of competing in shorter races, I set my sights on something far more challenging.

I had watched Ironman races on television and was captivated by stories of ordinary people doing extraordinary things: swimming 2.4 miles, riding 112 miles, and then running a full 26.2-mile marathon, all within a 17-hour time limit.

Each year, Ironman race organizers spotlighted a few athletes who shared inspiring stories of overcoming adversity, injury, illness, and doubt. Their commitment, grit, and determination were incredibly inspiring.

You may have seen videos of exhausted competitors crawling on hands and knees, or rolling across the finish line, with only seconds to spare.

As each participant crosses the finish line, the announcer calls out their name and proclaims, “You are an Ironman!”

Inspired by their stories, I signed up for my first Ironman race in sunny Panama City Beach, Florida. I set goals, created a plan, and committed to a rigorous training program. To prepare, I enrolled in an adult swim class to improve my technique, bought a better bike, and endured mile after training mile. Some days felt great, others were pure misery. But the weeks and months passed by, and before I knew it, I stood at the starting line with 2,600 new friends.

The swim portion of the race was a mass start, meaning everyone enters the water at the same time. Chaos is the only word to describe it, and there is really no way to prepare for it. Gone are the lane lines at the bottom of the pool and the comfort of calm and clear water. For the first 500 meters, athletes swam over my back and kicked from every direction as we all tried to find space.

To add to the challenge, we were met with two-foot ocean swells that pushed against us, all while we tried to stay within the racecourse.

In the midst of it all, I repeated to myself: I can do this. Just keep swimming.

The swim was divided into two laps, 1.2 miles, a short run along the beach, then back into the water for the final 1.2 miles.

My training and swimming lessons had paid off, and despite the unexpected challenges, I gratefully completed the swim. I remained in the race—and I was still alive!

I invite you to ponder with me for a moment: In your joyful challenge to become, do you find yourself swimming in deep water? [6]

How has the Savior helped you to “just keep swimming?”

Next up was the 112-mile bike ride under the warm Florida sun. I felt strong, fueled well, and was right on pace—until my joyful challenge to become happened. Eighteen miles in, I felt my back tire begin to wobble. I knew immediately what that meant: a flat tire.

My bike was equipped with tubular tires—reliable, but unforgiving if something goes wrong. If you can’t get air back into them, your race day is over. Prepared for this possibility, I stopped and reached for my CO? cartridge. As I began to inflate the tire, the adapter broke in my hand, instantly releasing all the air. In that moment, horror filled my soul. I had no way to fix the tire.

Athletes speeding by offered sympathy but couldn’t share their supplies any more than the wise virgins could share the oil in their lamps.

Understanding the reality of my situation, I faced a decision: my day could be over, or I could run with my bike, nearly two miles, to the next aid station, and hope for a miracle. I chose to race on and began running with my bike.

When I reached the aid station, I offered up my thousandth prayer and began pumping air into my tire. Miraculously, the tire pressure held. Relieved and grateful, I was back in the race.

After this unexpected test, I assumed the hardest part of the day was behind me. But my joyful challenge to become was far from over.

Ninety-six miles into the ride, my seat suddenly shifted and broke, angling sharply upwards. I could no longer sit comfortably or ride in an aerodynamic position. I had passed the last aid station and was now riding straight into coastal headwinds.

The race was already hard, but this seemed ridiculously unfair.

Again, I had another decision to make. I had not come this far to only come this far—I would keep pedaling, I would finish. I would ride the next 16 miles uncomfortably.

Take a moment again to ponder with me: In your joyful challenge to become, are you experiencing moments that feel like flat tires, broken seats, or relentless headwinds? In those times, how has the Savior helped you to keep pedaling on?

They say the swim and bike are simply a warm-up for the run.

Running is my strength, or at least it was for the first few miles. Soon, cramping, exhaustion, and heat took their toll. The race is meant to be hard, but this was a new level of suffering for me.

But in my suffering, there was help: aid stations, fellow athletes, spectators, and family who became the wind in my sails.

My sweetheart, Kim, knows that there is one simple thing that helps me reset during a race: brushing my teeth. It sounds strange, but washing away the taste of gels and sports drinks gives me a fresh start and a new beginning. Halfway through the run, there she was, toothbrush in hand. That clean, minty feeling renewed me.

To quiet my mind and keep going, I ran with other athletes, I walked through aid stations, hugged spectators willing to hug me back, and kept putting one foot in front of the other. I knew that if I focused on others, I would forget about myself and keep going.

Again, I invite us to ponder this question: In your joyful challenge to become, how has the Savior, and others, cheered you on, lifted you, comforted you, and helped you keep running?

As I approached the finish line and heard the cheers of the crowd, Alma’s words took on new meaning: “And oh, what joy, and what marvelous light I did behold; yea, my soul was filled with joy as exceeding as was my pain!” [7]

The pain was real, but the joy of finishing the race completely swallowed it up.

As I crossed the finish line, the announcer shouted, “Aaron Hall, you are an Ironman.” It was an emotional, unforgettable, and joyful moment. Every hour of training, every setback, every ounce of pain had been worth it. I had become an Ironman.

I have since gone on to do many more races—all with their unique challenges, but no less gratifying.

Through these racing experiences, I have learned that there is joy in training, joy in the unknown, joy in stopping at aid stations, joy in being lifted, joy in lifting others, and joy in the entire journey of becoming. The finish line brings joy, but the process of transformation is where real joy is found.

President David O. McKay spoke about his horse Dandy, who wanted complete freedom and no restraints. President McKay said:
“Under the saddle he was as willing, responsive, and cooperative as a horse could be. …
“But Dandy resented restraint. He was ill-contented when tied and would nibble at the tie-rope until he was free. He would not run away—he just wanted to be free. Thinking other horses felt the same, he would proceed to untie their ropes. …
“… His curiosity and desire to explore the neighborhood led him and me into trouble. Once on the highway he was hit by an automobile. …
“Recovering from that, and still impelled with a feeling of wanderlust, he inspected the fence throughout the entire boundary. He even found the gates wired. …
“One day, however, somebody left the gate unwired. Detecting this, Dandy unlatched it and took another horse … with him, and together they … went to an old house used for storage. Dandy’s curiosity prompted him to push open the door. … There was a sack of grain. What a find! Yes, and what a tragedy. The grain was bait for rodents! In a few minutes Dandy and the other horse were in spasmodic pain, and shortly afterwards both were dead.”
President McKay continued: “How like Dandy are many of our youth! … They are impulsive, full of life, full of curiosity. … They, too, are restive under restraint, but if they are kept busy, guided carefully and rightly, they prove to be responsive and capable; but if left to wander unguided, they all too frequently violate principles of right which often lead[s] to snares of evil, disaster, and even death.”

“Hey, wake up,” someone says, poking you.
Groggily, you look at the clock next to your bed. It’s 6:30 a.m.? What’s going on? Wait, that’s not your clock. And this isn’t your bed. Where are you?
“Hey,” the voice says, “you’re the one who wanted to follow us around. It’s time to get the day started.”
As you peer up at the missionary standing over your bed, you finally remember what’s going on. Church magazines offered you the opportunity to follow a missionary companionship around for a day, and you jumped at the chance to see what missionary life is really like.
You just didn’t realize it would start this early.
“Hi, I’m Elder Jesse Ward, from Utah,” the tall missionary says as you sit up. “Welcome to Spain. This is my companion, Elder Pierrick Triplet.”
Elder Triplet is from France, and he isn’t learning just Spanish but English too. Despite the challenge of having to learn two languages at once, Elder Triplet is grateful to be on a mission.
“I’m a convert,” he says. “I’ve had a great change in my life, and I’d like others to have it too. A mission can be hard work, but seeing someone change his or her life is worth it.”
They’ve got your attention. You’ve always heard that a mission can be the best two years of your life. Today you get a chance to find out why.
6:41 a.m. After taking time to pray, the missionaries spend some time working out. Push-ups, sit-ups, even a little light weight lifting are the usual for Elder Ward. Breakfast follows a shower and shave. Cold cereal is a favorite.
8:07 a.m. Missionaries spend a good deal of time studying individually and as a companionship so they can obtain the word before declaring it (see D&C 11:21). After language study and personal scripture study, it’s time for companionship study using Preach My Gospel.
9:55 a.m. Missionaries dedicate a lot of time to planning, at the beginning of the day, throughout the day, and at the end of the day. They talk not just about what they’re going to do but about what each investigator needs.
Today the elders are talking about a man from France, an investigator they’re going to invite to be baptized.
“He’s worried,” Elder Triplet says. “He doesn’t feel worthy.”
“Let’s talk about repentance and how God remembers sins no more,” Elder Ward suggests after the companions think it over. “Why don’t you teach it in French to make sure he understands?”
The last thing the elders do before leaving is pray—again. This is one of many prayers they’ll offer today. Missionary work requires a lot of heavenly help. Then it’s out the door and off to the bus stop in a hurry.
11:09 a.m. Missionaries talk to anyone anywhere anytime about the gospel, because they never know who is going to be interested. While waiting for the bus, the missionaries chat with a young man and give him a pamphlet with their phone number on it.
11:21 a.m. A 10-minute bus ride and a short walk later, the missionaries arrive at a rented meetinghouse at the same time as their investigator. The meeting begins well, but the investigator’s concerns push the 45-minute lesson they had planned on to more than an hour.
“That was the most frustrating lesson I’ve ever been in,” Elder Triplet says afterward. “He likes the Church. He thinks it’s true. He wants to pay tithing. But he doesn’t believe he needs to be baptized again. He was a little argumentative.”
“He’s a great guy,” Elder Ward says, shaking his head. “Maybe he’ll be ready to talk about baptism next time.”
2:06 p.m. The missionaries jump on another bus, this time to El Casco, the historic quarter of Toledo, Spain. They stop by an investigator’s business to invite him to an activity that night.
“You can get lost in here really quick if you aren’t paying attention,” Elder Ward says of the maze of narrow streets lined with buildings that seem to lean over those walking below.
2:24 p.m. While navigating the tight streets, the missionaries stop to offer help to a woman carrying a heavy load. They spend a moment explaining who they are and what they do, but the woman isn’t interested.
2:47 p.m. It’s siesta time in Spain, so the missionaries catch a bus back to their apartment, or piso, for lunch. “Everything shuts down between 2:00 and 4:00 p.m.,” Elder Ward explains. “Some people get mad if you knock on their doors.”
“This is chorizo, or sausage,” Elder Triplet says poking at lunch. “It’s typical food. We eat a lot of noodles and chorizo because it’s cheap and easy to make.”
“The mission is great preparation for marriage,” Elder Ward laughs as he mixes his Kool-Aid. “You have to learn to get along, cook, clean, do laundry, budget, and take care of yourself.”
4:24 p.m. Back in El Casco, the missionaries meet with a counselor in the mission presidency about current activation efforts.
“This is a great area,” says Elder Ward, who explains that Church attendance has gone from about 15 to 80 members each week because one family set the example of fellowshipping.
4:59 p.m. The elders end up with a little unexpected free time on their hands, but missionaries are used to doing some planning on the fly. Their backup plan was to do some tracting.
5:42 p.m. In El Casco, where so many people live above street level, knocking on doors often means carrying on conversations with people on their balconies. And even in historic tourist towns, a missionary has to look out for dogs.
The elders have some success: “We found some great people,” Elder Ward says. “There were some youth from Paraguay. They invited us back tomorrow.” And some failure: “We had a half-hour conversation with one man,” Elder Triplet says. “It was like talking to a wall.”
7:45 p.m. Two buses later the elders make it to the activity they had planned with the sister missionaries who work in the same city, Sister Kathleen Bonifay and Sister Brittany Hofman.
The people they were expecting to come didn’t. “That’s the way it goes sometimes,” Elder Ward says. But after a little footwork, the missionaries are able to gather a handful of other investigators living nearby. After a hymn and a video, you can feel the influence of the Holy Ghost as the missionaries bear testimony of the Book of Mormon as another witness of Jesus Christ. The activity is a success.
“The Lord takes care of you when you put forth your best planning and best effort,” says Sister Bonifay.
9:13 p.m. After a hike to the bus stop, the elders and sisters have made it back to their respective apartments, where they’ll call their leaders, review the day and their long-range plans, and make plans for the next day.
“Well, this is what we do,” Elder Ward tells you. “It doesn’t change much.”
Elder Triplet laughs. “We are the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow.”
Things didn’t go exactly as the elders had planned, but the day went well anyway. They made some good contacts, pulled off a powerful activity, bore testimony of Christ, and did their best to follow the promptings of the Holy Ghost.
“I’ve heard people say these are the best two years of their lives,” Elder Triplet says. “The two years are great, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they’re the best 730 days of my life. There are some days I thought would never end. But I have loved being a missionary.”
Elder Ward agrees. He has mixed emotions about leaving. “I always thought I’d be excited to go home,” he says. “But I see life differently now. I love my life. I’m a missionary. I’m speaking to people about Christ every day. Leaving will be bittersweet.”
You’ve enjoyed getting a taste of missionary work as well. As exciting as it is, missionary work can be exhausting. Now it’s time to get some rest and prepare yourself for your day as a missionary. It has a way of coming faster than you think.

Just a few years later, though, Bishop Hales suffered the first of multiple heart attacks that would sap his strength. In addition, there were problems with his lungs. As an avid golfer, however, he couldn’t resist a friend’s invitation to play a round of golf at St. Andrews, where the game was created, in Scotland. It wasn’t until the final hole that he sensed a heart attack coming on. Asking his colleagues to call an ambulance, he took a knee to rest. Then he confidently finished the round by making a long putt.

In 1881, the Romney family was called to Arizona, a rough frontier at that time, especially with the persecutions against the Latter-day Saints. Shortly after their arrival, a member of the Church, Nathan Cram Tenney, was shot while trying to stop a gunfight between two groups of ruffians.
The Romneys were especially persecuted because Miles was an eloquent and fearless crusader in his newspaper. One afternoon, two ruffians beat Miles senseless, leaving the small children to walk several kilometers for help. At one point, a gang from Saint Johns, Arizona, offered several thousand dollars reward for his capture, dead or alive. At another point, mobsters shot into the house while Catherine hid her children between a couch and the wall.
Eventually Miles went to Salt Lake City to report the situation to Brigham Young, and several more Latter-day Saint families were sent to Saint Johns, Arizona, which somewhat shifted the balance between the Mormons and those who persecuted them.
Still, the persecutions continued against the family, and finally Elder John Taylor of the Quorum of the Twelve advised Miles to go to Mexico. While he made a home for them there, Catherine and her children returned to Saint George, Utah, where they spent the next two years with her family, meeting President Wilford Woodruff when he took refuge from his persecutors in her parents’ home.

Let me help you understand how this pattern of making early commitments can help you by relating the experience of one Church leader. As a young man he decided that he would always keep the Word of Wisdom and never use alcohol or tobacco. He does not remember what prompted him to make that important commitment at the time, but a crucial victory was won in his heart, and on his knees he made a commitment with the Lord to always keep that commandment. Over the years there were invitations to use these substances, but he learned that “no, thank you” was a good answer. There was no personal battle over the Word of Wisdom because years before he had made a commitment in his heart, and he had sincerely made a commitment to the Lord to obey that law.

I remember about forty-six years ago when I was entering my first city of labor in southern Brazil. We were riding the streetcar from the center of town, and our companions were showing us the way to our residence. In those days all of the men in Brazil wore hats. So we were told, “When you see the men take their hats off the second time, you are to get off at the next stop.” What that meant was that the streetcar passed two churches. As it passed the churches, the men, out of respect, would lift their hats. What a lesson they taught! It ought to be a lesson to all of us to appreciate and understand other people.