Gospel Story Finder

As the memory slowly faded from her mind, Kari returned to the reality of the swing and the broad oak tree that spread overhead. For some reason she thought of the first time she had sat there. Her brother Thomas had hung the swing for her before he left on his mission. Thomas called her his “shadow,” and they shared many secrets as they were growing up. He left her one last secret the day they said good-bye.
He was dressed up in his new brown suit, ready to leave for the MTC. He leaned over her as she sat on the swing. The smell of his cologne mixed pleasantly with the aroma of the freshly cut hay that lined the fence across the lane.
“Kari,” Thomas said, looking intently at her, “There is nothing like swinging to put life into perspective.”
He spoke with the new authority his voice seemed to hold since the mission call.
“Tom, there you go again, talking way over my head. My ‘Dear Abby’ is going on his mission and leaving me with only a swing to talk to.”
Thomas held his tears of good-bye back as he stopped the swing and took Kari’s hands in his. Kari was surprised that his hands had grown as large as Father’s. He pulled her off the swing and gave her a hug. Kari could feel the newness of the brown suit.
“Just remember, little Sis—the higher you swing, the farther you see. Things look different when you can get above them.”

On another occasion a phone call came when I was a bishop—this time from the police. I was told that a drunk driver had crashed his car through the glass into the lobby of a bank. When the bewildered driver saw the security guard with his weapon brandished, he cried, “Don’t shoot! I’m a Mormon!”

The inebriated driver was discovered to be a member of my ward, baptized only recently. As I waited to speak to him in the bishop’s office, I planned what I would say to make him feel remorseful for the way he had broken his covenants and embarrassed the Church. But as I sat looking at him, I heard a voice in my mind say, just as clearly as if someone were speaking to me, “I’m going to let you see him as I see him.” And then, for a brief moment, his whole appearance changed to me. I saw not a dazed young man but a bright, noble son of God. I suddenly felt the Lord’s love for him. That vision changed our conversation. It also changed me.

Personal revelation is the profound blessing received following baptism when we are “sanctified by the reception of the Holy Ghost.” I can remember a special spiritual revelation when I was 15 years old. My precious brother was seeking guidance from the Lord as to how to respond to our dear father, who did not want my brother to serve a mission. I prayed with sincere intent too and received personal revelation of the truthfulness of the gospel.

Personal revelation is based on spiritual truths received from the Holy Ghost. The Holy Ghost is the revealer and testifier of all truth, especially that of the Savior. Without the Holy Ghost, we could not really know that Jesus is the Christ. His seminal role is to bear witness of the Father and the Son and Their titles and Their glory.
The Holy Ghost can influence everyone in a powerful way. This influence will not be constant unless one is baptized and receives the gift of the Holy Ghost. The Holy Ghost serves also as a cleansing agent in the process of repentance and forgiveness.
The Spirit communicates in marvelous ways. The Lord used this beautiful description:
“I will tell you in your mind and in your heart, by the Holy Ghost, which shall come upon you and which shall dwell in your heart.
“Now, behold, this is the spirit of revelation.”
Although its impact can be incredibly powerful, it most often comes quietly as a still, small voice. The scriptures include many examples of how the Spirit influences our minds, including speaking peace to our minds, occupying our minds, enlightening our minds, and even sending a voice to our minds.
Some principles that prepare us to receive revelation include:
Praying for spiritual guidance. Reverently and humbly we need to seek and ask and be patient and submissive.
Preparing for inspiration. This requires that we be in harmony with the Lord’s teachings and in compliance with His commandments.
Partaking of the sacrament worthily. When we do this, we witness and covenant with God that we take upon ourselves the name of His holy Son and that we remember Him and keep His commandments.
These principles prepare us to receive, recognize, and follow the prompting and guidance of the Holy Ghost. This includes the “peaceable things … which bringeth joy [and] … life eternal.”
Our spiritual preparation is greatly enhanced when we regularly study the scriptures and truths of the gospel and ponder in our minds the guidance we seek. But remember to be patient and trust in the Lord’s timing. Guidance is given by an omniscient Lord when He “deliberately chooses to school us.”
The Holy Ghost will also provide revelation in our callings and assignments. In my experience, significant spiritual guidance most often comes when we are trying to bless others in fulfilling our responsibilities.
I can remember as a young bishop receiving a desperate call from a married couple a short time before I was to catch an airplane for a business engagement. I pled with the Lord before their arrival to know how I could bless them. It was revealed to me the nature of the problem and the response I should give. That revelatory guidance allowed me to fulfill the sacred responsibilities of my calling as bishop despite very limited availability of time. Bishops all over the world also share these same kinds of experiences with me. As a stake president, I not only received important revelation but also received personal correction that was necessary to accomplish the Lord’s purposes.
I assure you that revelatory guidance can be received by each of us as we humbly labor in the Lord’s vineyard. Most of our guidance comes from the Holy Ghost. Sometimes and for some purposes, it comes directly from the Lord. I personally testify that this is true. Guidance for the Church, as a whole, comes to the President and prophet of the Church.
We, as modern Apostles, have had the privilege of working and traveling with our current prophet, President Nelson. I paraphrase what Wilford Woodruff said about the Prophet Joseph Smith; it is equally true of President Nelson. I have seen “the workings of the Spirit of God with him, and the revelations of Jesus Christ unto him and the fulfillment of those revelations.”
My humble plea today is that each of us will seek continuing revelation to guide our lives and follow the Spirit as we worship God the Father in the name of our Savior, Jesus Christ, of whom I bear witness in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

The basketball slipped through my fingertips and rolled down the driveway. “Nooooo!” I cried as it bounced across the street—right into Mrs. Clark’s yard!
I remembered Mrs. Clark’s angry words to Mason when his ball had bounced into her yard. “Look at this flowerbed,” she had shrieked. “It’s completely destroyed! If you come into my yard, I’ll call the police!” With that, she’d picked up his basketball, and it was gone. Now I was too afraid to even cross the street to get mine.
I worried all night about my ball. Sure enough, in the morning it was gone. Mom talked to Mrs. Clark the next day, but she wouldn’t give it back. She was one grumpy neighbor.
Mason and Andrew and I thought of ways to get even—like letting her dog out of her backyard at night. But we decided not to.
A few days later my friends and I were outside playing basketball when Mom came out with a cardboard box. Inside was a spaghetti dinner. “Is this for us?” Andrew asked, licking his lips.
“No, it’s for Mrs. Clark,” Mom replied. “She was in a car accident.”
We all frowned. “Why would you do that for Mrs. Clark?” Mason asked. “She’s the meanest person I know!”
“Mrs. Clark needs our help,” Mom answered. “It’s what Jesus would want us to do. Will you boys please take this dinner over to her?”
We walked to Mrs. Clark’s door with shaky knees, rang the doorbell, and waited. And waited. Finally, a cranky voice asked, “What do you want?”
“We, uh, have some food,” I said.
“Food? Why are you bringing me food?” she asked.
“Mom told us to. It’s spaghetti,” I said.
“Oh, spaghetti,” she said softly as she opened the door. Slowly a smile crept across her face. It was the first time I’d ever seen Mrs. Clark smile. She fumbled around in her purse. “Here,” she said, handing me some money. “Take this to your mother and thank her for me.”
“Oh, she won’t want the money,” I answered.
But Mrs. Clark wouldn’t take no for an answer. She dropped the dollar bills into my hand and quickly closed the door.
The next day Mom had another box, this time with beef stew. I placed the money from last time under the bowl of beef stew. Mrs. Clark smiled again when we brought her the food, and again she tried to pay me. But this time we got away without taking it.
“Mom doesn’t want the money,” I called back as we scurried away. “She wants you to have the food.”
The next Saturday we were playing basketball again, and this time Andrew’s ball got away! It bounced down the driveway, across the street, and landed smack in the middle of Mrs. Clark’s flowerbed. As usual, she picked up the ball and disappeared into her house. But this time something different happened. Mrs. Clark came back out carrying a box. She walked across the street, up the driveway, right to where we were standing. We were all about to run.
“Here,” she said, handing me the box. Inside were all three of our basketballs!
“Thanks!” I said with a big smile on my face.
On Sunday in sharing time, Sister Jones asked, “How can we love our enemies?”
I raised my hand high in the air. “By doing something nice for them,” I answered.
Sister Jones beamed. “That’s a great answer.”
When I looked at Mason and Andrew, they were smiling too.

A few years later at a devotional held following a visit to Adam-ondi-Ahman, the supervisor of service missionaries in the area asked me to share the story of my conversion. I did so and then thanked the couples attending the devotional for preparing their children to serve missions and for figuratively sending them to my door.
As I shook hands and prepared to leave, the supervisor spoke up. “Before we dismiss this meeting,” he said, “I have a personal confession to make.” I don’t remember his exact words, but in essence he said:
“As you know, I served my country as a U.S. Marine while I was a young man. While serving, I killed many Japanese soldiers. I thought I had served my country faithfully, but for many years, whenever I saw Orientals, particularly Japanese people, I experienced great depression. Sometimes I could not even function. I visited with Church authorities and discussed my feelings with professional counselors.
“Today, when I faced Elder and Sister Kikuchi and their son, a flash of memory returned. But then I listened to Elder Kikuchi share his testimony and conversion story, his love for the Lord and the gospel, and his love for each of us. He said he had hated Americans and American soldiers but that the gospel had changed his life through the Lord’s healing power. When I heard this, I also seemed to hear a voice from the Lord saying, ‘It is finished. It is OK.’”
He put his hands outward, raised them, and said, with tears in his eyes, “All of my guilt has been taken away. My burden is lifted!”
He came to me and hugged me. Then our wives approached, and we all hugged each other and wept.

“I have lived in Nauvoo all my life. I remember as a little boy visiting the temple site and helping my dad plant the flowers and water them to make the grounds beautiful. We used to play on the slopes where the temple once stood. My dad would tell us how sacred the grounds were because of the sacrifices the Saints made for the temple to be built, and then they had to leave before they could fully use it for a long period. I am excited to see the temple here. I feel like the people who lived here with Joseph Smith are watching us and hoping we appreciate it and don’t take it for granted.”–Nathan Nelson, 17

My brothers and sisters, how grateful I am to be here with you in this historic Tabernacle today. Seventy-four years ago, my grandfather Lars Peter Oveson stood at this pulpit and bore his testimony as an invited stake president from Emery County, Utah.
Although he died when I was just a boy, my grandfather has always been one of my heroes. I have studied his journal, which recounts over and over again his willingness to answer the calls that came to him throughout his lifetime. He and his parents converted to the gospel in Denmark, immigrated to this country, and came across the plains to join the Saints in Utah. One of the calls that came to him required leaving his new, young wife for six months to work on the building of the St. George Temple. He left her and their young family again to serve a two-year mission in his native Denmark. Later the calls of bishop and stake president necessitated their relocating and rebuilding their home and farm on three different occasions. Through all of these upheavals, he remained grateful, cheerful, and faithful to the principles of the gospel, leaving a great legacy of faith to those of us who bear his name.

My dad’s in the U.S. military, so we moved around a lot growing up. It was hard to be outgoing and make friends, and I thought being shy was my whole personality, like I was a painting with only one color.
Painting has helped me realize that I’m actually a very colorful person! I’m more reserved than other people, but there are so many other layers and pieces to my personality, like a full-color painting. Sometimes people are surprised by how colorful my paintings are, and I just tell them, “You need to get to know me!”
I’m still figuring out who I am and adding pieces to myself. In fact, I recently sang in the November 2020 Young Women Face to Face event. I know that when I do the simple things like read my scriptures and pray, it helps me learn about who I am and who Heavenly Father wants me to become.

I offer this as profound conviction born in the fiery crucible of life’s experience. Our second son, Adam, entered our lives when I was far away in the jungles and rice paddies of Vietnam. I still have the joyful telegram announcing his birth. Adam was a blue-eyed, blond-haired little fellow with an impish personality. As he turned five years old, Adam eagerly looked forward to starting school. Then a common childhood illness blanketed our southern California community, and Adam contracted the disease. Aside from concern for his comfort, we were not worried. He even seemed to have a light case. Suddenly one morning he did not arise from his bed; he was in a deep coma. We rushed him to the hospital, where he was placed in intensive care. A constant cadre of devoted doctors and nurses attended him. His mother and I maintained a ceaseless vigil in the waiting room nearby.

I telephoned our dear stake president, a childhood friend and now a beloved colleague in the Seventy, Elder Douglas L. Callister, and asked if he would come to the hospital and join me in giving Adam a priesthood blessing. Within minutes he was there. As we entered the small, cramped space where Adam’s lifeless little body lay, his bed surrounded by a bewildering maze of monitoring devices and other medical paraphernalia, the kind doctors and nurses reverently stepped back and folded their arms. As the familiar and comforting words of a priesthood blessing were spoken in faith and earnest pleading, I was overcome by a profound sense that Someone else was present. I was overwhelmed by the thought that if I should open my eyes I would see the Savior standing there! I was not the only one in that room who felt that Spirit. We learned quite by chance some months later that one of the nurses who was present that day was so touched that she sought out the missionaries and was baptized.

But notwithstanding, Adam made no improvement. He lingered between this life and the next for several more days as we pleaded with the Lord to return him to us. Finally, one morning after a fitful night, I walked alone down a deserted hospital corridor. I spoke to the Lord and told Him that we wanted our little boy to return so very much, but nevertheless what we wanted most was for His will to be done and that we—Pat and I—would accept that. Adam crossed the threshold into the eternities a short time later.

Frankly, we still grieve for our little boy, although the tender ministering of the Spirit and the passage of the years have softened our sadness. His small picture graces the mantel of our living room beside a more current family portrait of children and grandchildren. But Pat and I know that his path through mortality was intended by a kind Heavenly Father to be shorter and easier than ours and that he has now hurried on ahead to be a welcoming presence when we likewise eventually cross that same fateful threshold.

The heat was sweltering, and it was raining heavily. Still, the missionaries continued down the road, a mix of perspiration and rain rolling off their backs and faces. To their left and right were the humble houses of the people of Hong Kong.
As they walked, Elder Tavita Sagapolu seemed a giant. Standing 1.8 meters tall and weighing over 120 kilos, the former college football star, who was now a full-time missionary, towered over most of the people in this city. And now he discovered that he towered over their homes, too. The buildings came up only to his chin.
After approaching one of the houses, Tavita’s more experienced companion, who had been on his mission several months, turned to the young Samoan man and offered to let him knock on the door. This would be the first door Tavita would knock on since arriving in Hong Kong, and it would be an experience that he would remember throughout his life.
Tavita shook with nervousness as he prepared to knock. “My mouth went dry and refused to open,” he recalls. Nonetheless, he mustered the courage to approach the door, a door so small he had to kneel down to knock.
“As I was kneeling there, I forgot how strong I was. I didn’t even have to knock—my hand was shaking so much that all I had to do was put my arm up to the door.” Before Tavita knew what was happening, the door fell in under the weight of his arm. Panic swept through him as he tried to put the door back on its hinges before anyone came.
Suddenly, an elderly woman appeared at the door. When she opened it, it fell on her. She came out screaming. “I grabbed my companion and put him in front of me. I said to the woman, ‘Here, talk to him!’ The memory of that little old woman’s face after the door fell down will always be with me.” Now, when he recalls the episode, Tavita chuckles.

It was just a piece of paper on the ground. Geoff was on his nightly run and almost ran right past it, but something prompted him to stop and pick it up. Bending down, he saw the note, which read, “Pick me up. I’m yours!” When he opened the note, he found a big surprise. Inside was a $100 bill and a note that read, “This is for you. Hope you have a wonderful day!”
As Geoff finished his run, he thought of all the different things he could use the money for, such as new running shoes or a nice dinner. But by the time he got home, he had thought of a better idea. Instead of using the money for himself, he would use it to bring a little joy to others.
“I figured if I blew the money all at once on myself, I would forget about it the next day,” Geoff explains. “I realized what a great opportunity I had, and I wanted to make a real difference. Finding the $100 bill really made my day. I thought that if I could split the money up and help out 100 people, it would be making the day of 100 people. That would be 100 times better than just making my day once.”
So, Geoff started the 101 Happy People Project. The 101st person is Geoff, because of the joy he felt when he found the money, and Geoff is finding ways to bless 100 other people.
Geoff was able to double the 100 dollars by putting it in a bank that was having a special promotion. Because of the promotion, after tithing, he had two dollars to spend on almost every person he helped. But can two dollars really make a difference? Geoff says it can: “I am 100 percent confident that the money involved is irrelevant. Most of the time, knowing that you are just reaching out to comfort people or just thinking about them is exactly what people need. Two dollars is enough to get that message across. You can make someone else’s day no matter how much money you have.”
Trying to make 100 people happy through service isn’t just something to inspire others; it has inspired Geoff as well. “It has opened my eyes to see how easy it can be to make a difference. It has made me less selfish. I have learned a lot about what daily service means and how it can help.”

One of our beloved hymns expresses the plea “Thru cloud and sunshine, Lord, abide with me!” I was once on a plane as it approached a large storm. Looking out the window, I could see a dense blanket of clouds below us. The rays of the setting sun reflected off the clouds, causing them to shine with intense brightness. Soon, the plane descended through the heavy clouds, and we were suddenly enveloped in a thick darkness that completely blinded us to the intense light we had witnessed just moments earlier.
Black clouds may also form in our lives, which can blind us to God’s light and even cause us to question if that light exists for us anymore. Some of those clouds are of depression, anxiety, and other forms of mental and emotional affliction. They can distort the way we perceive ourselves, others, and even God. They affect women and men of all ages in all corners of the world.
Likewise damaging is the desensitizing cloud of skepticism that can affect others who have not experienced these challenges. Like any part of the body, the brain is subject to illnesses, trauma, and chemical imbalances. When our minds are suffering, it is appropriate to seek help from God, from those around us, and from medical and mental health professionals.
“All human beings—male and female—are created in the image of God. Each is a beloved spirit son or daughter of heavenly parents, and … each has a divine nature and destiny.” Like our Heavenly Parents and our Savior, we have a physical body and experience emotions.
My dear sisters, it is normal to feel sad or worried once in a while. Sadness and anxiety are natural human emotions. However, if we are constantly sad and if our pain blocks our ability to feel the love of our Heavenly Father and His Son and the influence of the Holy Ghost, then we may be suffering from depression, anxiety, or another emotional condition.
My daughter once wrote: “There was a time … [when] I was extremely sad all of the time. I always thought that sadness was something to be ashamed of, and that it was a sign of weakness. So I kept my sadness to myself. … I felt completely worthless.”
A friend described it this way: “Since my early childhood, I have faced a constant battle with feelings of hopelessness, darkness, loneliness, and fear and the sense that I am broken or defective. I did everything to hide my pain and to never give the impression that I was anything but thriving and strong.”
My dear friends, it can happen to any of us—especially when, as believers in the plan of happiness, we place unnecessary burdens on ourselves by thinking we need to be perfect now. Such thoughts can be overwhelming. Achieving perfection is a process that will take place throughout our mortal life and beyond—and only through the grace of Jesus Christ.
In contrast, when we open up about our emotional challenges, admitting we are not perfect, we give others permission to share their struggles. Together we realize there is hope and we do not have to suffer alone.
As disciples of Jesus Christ, we have made a covenant with God that we “are willing to bear one another’s burdens” and “to mourn with those that mourn.” This may include becoming informed about emotional illnesses, finding resources that can help address these struggles, and ultimately bringing ourselves and others to Christ, who is the Master Healer. Even if we do not know how to relate to what others are going through, validating that their pain is real can be an important first step in finding understanding and healing.
In some cases, the cause of depression or anxiety can be identified, while other times it may be harder to discern. Our brains may suffer because of stress or staggering fatigue, which can sometimes be improved through adjustments in diet, sleep, and exercise. Other times, therapy or medication under the direction of trained professionals may also be needed.
Untreated mental or emotional illness can lead to increased isolation, misunderstandings, broken relationships, self-harm, and even suicide. I know this firsthand, as my own father died by suicide many years ago. His death was shocking and heartbreaking for my family and me. It has taken me years to work through my grief, and it was only recently that I learned talking about suicide in appropriate ways actually helps to prevent it rather than encourage it. I have now openly discussed my father’s death with my children and witnessed the healing that the Savior can give on both sides of the veil.
Sadly, many who suffer from severe depression distance themselves from their fellow Saints because they feel they do not fit some imaginary mold. We can help them know and feel that they do indeed belong with us. It is important to recognize that depression is not the result of weakness, nor is it usually the result of sin. It “thrives in secrecy but shrinks in empathy.” Together, we can break through the clouds of isolation and stigma so the burden of shame is lifted and miracles of healing can occur.
During His mortal ministry, Jesus Christ healed the sick and the afflicted, but each person had to exercise faith in Him and act to receive His healing. Some walked for long distances, others extended their hand to touch His garment, and others had to be carried to Him in order to be healed. When it comes to healing, don’t we all need Him desperately? “Are we not all beggars?”
Let us follow the Savior’s path and increase our compassion, diminish our tendency to judge, and stop being the inspectors of the spirituality of others. Listening with love is one of the greatest gifts we can offer, and we may be able to help carry or lift the heavy clouds that suffocate our loved ones and friends so that, through our love, they can once again feel the Holy Ghost and perceive the light that emanates from Jesus Christ.
If you are constantly surrounded by a “mist of darkness,” turn to Heavenly Father. Nothing that you have experienced can change the eternal truth that you are His child and that He loves you. Remember that Christ is your Savior and Redeemer, and God is your Father. They understand. Picture Them close by you, listening and offering support. “[They] will console you in your afflictions.” Do all you can, and trust in the Lord’s atoning grace.
Your struggles do not define you, but they can refine you. Because of a “thorn in the flesh,” you may have the ability to feel more compassion toward others. As guided by the Holy Ghost, share your story in order to “succor the weak, lift up the hands which hang down, and strengthen the feeble knees.”
For those of us currently struggling or supporting someone who is struggling, let us be willing to follow God’s commandments so we may always have His Spirit with us. Let us do the “small and simple things” that will give us spiritual strength. As President Russell M. Nelson said, “Nothing opens the heavens quite like the combination of increased purity, exact obedience, earnest seeking, daily feasting on the words of Christ in the Book of Mormon, and regular time committed to temple and family history work.”
Let us all remember that our Savior, Jesus Christ, “[has taken] upon him [our] infirmities, that his bowels may be filled with mercy, according to the flesh, that he may know … how to succor [us] according to [our] infirmities.” He came “to bind up the brokenhearted, … to comfort all that mourn; … to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness.”
I testify to you that “thru cloud and sunshine” the Lord will abide with us, our “afflictions [can be] swallowed up in the joy of Christ,” and “it is by grace that we are saved, after all we can do.” I testify that Jesus Christ will return to the earth “with healing in his wings.” Ultimately, He “shall wipe away all tears from [our] eyes; and there shall be no more … sorrow.” For all who will “come unto Christ, and be perfected in him,” the “sun shall no more go down; … for the Lord shall be [our] everlasting light, and the days of [our] mourning shall be ended.” In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

There was born in France in 1822 a boy described by his teacher as “the meekest, smallest, and least promising pupil in my class.” But he gave to mankind some of its greatest boons because he was helpful. He became a chemist. When a mysterious disease attacked the silkworms of France and threatened the silk business with ruin, he was invited to investigate.
Meantime, tragedy struck his family. One of his children died; then another; then a third. Working 18 hours a day, he drained his strength and suffered a stroke. His powers of speech were paralyzed, but even as he lay there, paralyzed in body but active in mind, the solution to the silkworm disease suddenly came to him.
He fought his way back. He regained his power to speak, learning to talk all over again. Eventually his research saved the silk industry, not only in France, but in all the silk-producing countries. He saved another industry by discovering that heat would kill bacteria without spoiling the product. Thus pasteurization was born, a process in daily use all over the world. Louis Pasteur’s primary objective in life was to serve God through serving mankind. His name is great in agriculture. He developed a vaccine for anthrax—a fatal disease of cattle—and also for chicken cholera. His germ theory revolutionized surgery, which in those days was usually fatal. Pasteur discovered that this was because of microbes getting into the open wounds. Some doctors scoffed, “What does the chemist know about medicine?” But after two years of applying the germ theory in a hospital, postsurgery fatalities dropped from 90 percent to 15 percent.
And he conquered hydrophobia. Once, in order to get material for his experiment, it was necessary for Pasteur to suck saliva through a tube from the threatening jaws of a mad dog. Calmly he faced a possible, horrible death. Then he said, “Well, gentlemen, we can now proceed with the experiment.” What a noble soul and what a truly great example!

I was born in a small southern Mississippi town in 1950. My father was a career army officer. As a result, although not completely due to his career, I became the product of a broken home. It was not until my teens that I became aware of this. It was a traumatic period in my life.
My parents were strict, and I often was denied opportunities that many youth take for granted. One privilege I was allowed was to attend a local Baptist church where I gained an independence of thought and action. I felt I was somebody and had something to contribute to the world. I became a youth minister and had hopes of gaining a scholarship so I could attend a ministerial school. But the deteriorating conditions at home and diminishing faith in my religious beliefs changed that. I had increasing questions about life. I suppose at this point I simply felt sorry for myself.
At 17 I left home. All I took with me was the memory of ruined yesterdays and a fear of uncertain tomorrows. I left in anguish and bitterness. Later I joined the United States Air Force. The first place they sent me was to Vietnam. This was a startling contrast to the sheltered environment I had experienced as a child. Needless to say, rather than helping to find peace and remedy my doubts, the futility and endless agony of life there served only to create more questions and to reinforce my defeatist attitude. I began to doubt there was a God or that there was any dignity or purpose in life. Was life just the means to an uncertain end? Where and why did it all begin? I found myself wishing that I had never been born.
I left Vietnam physically well, but I was almost spiritually dead. However, something inside seemed to urge me to give God another chance, and I did in hopes that he would do the same for me.
Upon my arrival in Misawa, Japan, I went to a Baptist missionary, but he was unable to answer my questions. He encouraged me to rely on faith, but I could no longer live on the innocent faith I had as a young man. The reality I found in the world as an adult was simply too great. I had to find the answers and I had to find them now.
I was becoming desperate, so a friend asked me to accompany him to the Far East Conference of the Southern Baptist Convention in Shimoda, believing that these learned men would be able to answer my questions satisfactorily. Enroute to the convention, my friend made what he later determined was a great mistake. We stopped in Tokyo to see his friend, Bill Head, whom he had met in Thailand. Upon meeting Bill for the first time, I realized that he was different. Without him even saying a word I knew that he had something that I wanted. He radiated confidence, peace of mind, a love for life, and a love for people. He seemed to know who he was and where he was going. He had the answers I needed so desperately.
I asked him why he was unique. Bill replied, “I am a Mormon.” He gave me some pamphlets to read, and I took them with me to that convention in Shimoda. I read the material. At first the Joseph Smith account seemed ridiculous, preposterous, almost absurd. I wanted to believe that God spoke to men today. I wanted to believe that the heavens were not closed and that God was real. I wanted to believe that he lived and cared about his children and had not left us alone to drift aimlessly through life for some mysterious end. I also knew that if ever the world needed another witness of Jesus Christ it was now. But because it was so new and because it had been such a long time since God had manifested himself to the ancients, I was skeptical.
The next morning I attended a seminar at the convention. The seminar’s purpose was to discuss the anti-Christ ideologies. The first religion they attacked was not communism or some other godless ideology, but Mormonism. They had decided among themselves that Mormons worshiped Joseph Smith and ignored the fact that the formal name of the Mormon church was The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. If that name implied anything, it implied that Mormons were Christians of the highest degree, for they were the only people I had found who claimed the name of Jesus Christ. It wasn’t the Church of Joseph Smith, John the Baptist, Paul, Mary, John Wesley, or Martin Luther. It was the Church of Jesus Christ.
I felt the Mormons were being misunderstood so I attempted to defend them. Now I probably made somewhat of a fool of myself in the minds of those learned people, but in the process of this defense, a still, small voice said, “You’d better find out more so you can do better next time.”
I left the convention that day and returned to Tokyo. I found Bill and told him I wanted to learn more. He introduced me to a young couple, the Fredericks, who taught me the missionary discussions in two days. During that glorious two-day period the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle in my mind fell together and I found myself and my true identity.
“I am a child of God!” I exclaimed to myself. “I began with him. There is purpose and dignity to life, and a great destiny beyond!” I began to realize for the first time that I didn’t have to doubt, worry, be confused, or tossed to and fro by every wind of doctrine because there is a prophet of God and twelve apostles on the earth today, just as there was anciently in the Church of Jesus Christ. I had found his Church!
Less than two weeks later, on August 12, 1970, I was baptized in Kunsan City, Korea. I know that the gospel is true. I know that Joseph Smith was a prophet and that we are sons and daughters of God.
Since my conversion I have been reunited with my family and ordained an elder in the Lord’s Church. I am currently serving as a missionary in the Idaho Pocatello Mission. Like Bill, now that I am converted, I am strengthening my brethren.

This story took place in Kiribati.
Timeon climbed up onto the log above him. Then he put his legs over it and hung upside down.
“This place is awesome!” Natieta said from below.
Timeon and his friends had found the empty tree hut earlier that week. It was a great place to play! The beams holding up the roof were perfect to swing from.
“I bet I can jump all the way across—just like a monkey,” Timeon said.
“I’ll meet you halfway!” Toani said.
Timeon used his arms to swing his body forward. Then he leaped out toward the beam by his friend. He reached his hands out, ready to grab on.
But his fingers slipped! Timeon fell to the ground.
“Ouch!” Timeon said. His friends ran to help him.
“Are you all right?” Natieta asked.
Timeon tried to get up, but he felt a sharp pain in his arm.
“I don’t know if I can move,” he said. He tried not to cry, but tears rolled down his cheeks.
“I’m sorry, Timeon,” Natieta said. “We’ll help take you home.”
Timeon’s friends helped him across the island. The sun had nearly set by the time they got back to his home.
“What happened?” Mom asked.
“We were playing in the empty hut,” Toani said. “Timeon slipped from a beam he was swinging on.”
Timeon couldn’t even straighten his arm. It hurt so much!
Mom thanked Timeon’s friends for bringing him safely home. She helped him lie down on the mat and put soft pillows all around him.
Timeon was still in pain. But there were no doctors close enough to visit in the dark. What if it kept hurting all night?
Timeon heard a voice call a greeting from outside the house. “Mauri!” It was the missionaries.
“It’s good to see you, elders,” Mom said. “Could you please give my son a priesthood blessing? He hurt his arm and is in a lot of pain.”
“Of course.” Elder Aitu smiled at Timeon. “Would you like a priesthood blessing, Timeon?”
Timeon knew that priesthood blessings invited power from God to help and heal people. He had faith that Heavenly Father would help him. He nodded. “Yes, please.”
The missionaries placed their hands on Timeon’s head. They said his full name and blessed him by the power of Jesus Christ to feel better.
Soon Timeon’s arm didn’t hurt so much. He felt calm and peaceful. He was even able to fall asleep.
When he woke up, it was already morning. His arm still hurt, but not nearly as much as before.
“How do you feel?” Mom asked.
“Much better,” he said. “I think priesthood power is real.”
“I’m glad the blessing helped you!” Mom gave Timeon a hug, careful not to bump his arm. “Now let’s go get some help for your arm to make sure it heals.”
Mom helped Timeon get on a bike. Then she got on behind him. She took them to their neighbor, who could help.
Timeon smiled while their neighbor treated his arm. Priesthood power was a real power from God. And he was so grateful!
The name Timeon is pronounced “Si-me-on.” The island where he lives, Kiribati, is pronounced “Ki-ri-bas.”
Illustrations by Melissa Kashiwagi

Eritai says he feels happy and accomplished after overseeing the construction of a solar-powered Church building and missionary housing in Tabonibara, North Tarawa.
“I have never done anything as critical as this,” Eritai explained.
He told of answers to many prayers during the construction. He found it remarkable the way “every detail of the plans came together, and they were able to finish it so quickly despite setbacks with construction and weather.”

My grandmother was also at the temple that day. I recall her excitement at seeing the temple lights as we had arrived in Cardston. Years later, after retiring from her job in Calgary, she moved to Cardston and gave many hours of service in the temple. She loved to play the organ and help inspire reverence there. Her testimony and love for the Savior was evidenced through her kindness to everyone around her. She is to me an example of a strong Latter-day Saint woman.

In closing I want to share with you a personal experience. One day when circumstances made it necessary for me to be at home at an unusual time, I witnessed from another room how our eleven-year-old son, just returning from school, was directing ugly words towards his younger sister. They were words that offended me—words that I had never thought our son would use. My first natural reaction in my anger was to get up and go after him. Fortunately, I had to walk across the room and open a door before I could reach him, and I remember in those few seconds I fervently prayed to my Heavenly Father to help me to handle the situation. Peace came over me. I was no longer angry.

Our son, being shocked to see me home, was filled with fear when I approached him. To my surprise I heard myself saying, “Welcome home, son!” and I extended my hand as a greeting. And then in a formal style I invited him to sit close to me in the living room for a personal talk. I heard myself expressing my love for him. I talked with him about the battle that every one of us has to fight each day within ourselves.

As I expressed my confidence in him, he broke into tears, confessing his unworthiness and condemning himself beyond measure. Now it was my role to put his transgression in the proper perspective and to comfort him. A wonderful spirit came over us, and we ended up crying together, hugging each other in love and finally in joy. What could have been a disastrous confrontation between father and son became, through the help from the powers above, one of the most beautiful experiences of our relationship that we both have never forgotten.

Godson Adjetey couldn’t have known the impact a change of location would have on his life when he moved to the small community of Penyi in the far southeast corner of Ghana. His interest was in finishing his education at a good school. But it was because of that move that Godson became acquainted with The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and on October 30, 2025, Godson will become the first missionary to serve from the Penyi Branch.
Godson was born in Accra, Ghana, in September 2004. Along with his family, he moved to the Volta Region and spent the next 18 years there. He attended Wisdom Junior High School at Aqbozme, where he was a good student. After completing his schooling there, he wanted to finish senior high school and study business at a good school, so he came to Penyi to stay with his uncle and go to school there. Godson recognizes now that the Lord’s hand was clearly guiding this move.
His uncle, a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, owns the building where he was staying, and it was also the building where the full-time missionaries, Elder Wood and Elder Layton, were living. It was only natural for his uncle to introduce Godson to the missionaries, and they began to teach him about the scriptures and the Restoration of the gospel. Godson, who had always been religious after growing up attending a Pentecostal church with his parents, felt his spirit was ready for the fullness of the gospel. He gladly accepted their invitation to come to church and began attending the small and recently organized Penyi Branch.
Godson related that as he listened to the missionaries, the message resonated deeply with him. “I felt the Holy Ghost’s love as I learned we are God’s children. I realized Jesus loves us and gave His life for us,” he said. He felt at home in the branch of about 160 members—many of them youth or young adults who are the only Church members in their families. Godson fit right in and enjoyed coming to church.
His proximity to the full-time missionaries was instrumental in his conversion. As he felt the Spirit testify of the truths of the gospel, he was motivated to associate more with them. That association began with simply helping them find food and navigate the streets of their community, but soon he was not only showing the missionaries where members and friends were located but also staying with them and assisting as they taught others the gospel—all before he himself was baptized.
He attended Church meetings for about one month before being baptized at age 17 on August 23, 2021. He was excited to become a member of Jesus Christ’s Church. The members of the branch showed great love toward him, and he found a special sense of belonging. He particularly liked partaking of the sacrament each week because he understood it was essential for renewing his baptismal covenants. He understood that the path to salvation is a covenant path, and he had a true desire to make sacred covenants.
As he faithfully attended his meetings, served in callings, and participated in various Church activities, his desire to serve the Lord continued to grow. The experience he had had assisting the full-time missionaries before he became a member provided invaluable training and ignited his own desire to serve. “Living by and assisting the full-time missionaries who have served in my village inspired me to be a missionary too,” Godson said.
But the application process to serve a mission seemed a bit intimidating to Godson. As though an answer to a prayer, in July 2024, Elder and Sister Campbell, senior member and leader support missionaries who had recently arrived in the Dzodze Ghana District, met Godson at the Penyi Branch. When these good missionaries learned of Godson’s desire to serve, they enthusiastically began helping him prepare his application and worked diligently to help him complete all the required steps to serve.
They learned a lot together as they helped him obtain his birth certificate, passport, police report, medical documents, and vaccinations. “Preparing to serve a full-time mission was more complicated than I expected,” Godson acknowledged. “But the effort was worth completing the months-long process.”
A pivotal spiritual step in his preparation was the opportunity to receive his own endowment at the Accra Ghana Temple on September 2, 2025. He felt a powerful spirit confirming that the temple was the house of the Lord, a special place for sacred ordinances. “That experience solidified my faith in Jesus Christ, and I felt Christ’s love there,” he said, noting that the temple workers showed great love to him from the moment he arrived.
Godson received a call to serve in the Nigeria Benin City Mission starting on October 30, 2025. Godson wanted to serve a mission so that he could share the restored gospel with others. He looked forward to experiencing life in Nigeria, learning about the people’s beliefs, and sharing his powerful testimony with the people of that land.
Just as importantly, Godson Adjetey is setting a faithful example for the other young people in the Penyi Branch. As its first missionary, he is a pioneer, proving that any barrier can be overcome with faith and support. He is lighting a path that many youth in this vibrant, young branch will now be inspired to follow.

Julie (names have been changed) was smart. She set a financial plan in motion when she was in her 30s and stuck to it. “If you’re talking to your children or grandchildren about finances, remind them that they need to start setting money aside when they’re young,” she says. “That way they can build a reserve over time and earn interest too.”

But Julie’s number-one rule is “I always pay my tithing first.” Over the years, she says, “the Lord has opened the windows of heaven to me in more ways than I can number” (see Malachi 3:10). She quotes President Russell M. Nelson: “Your investments in tithing will continue to pay rich dividends—here and hereafter.”1

Julie, who lives in California, USA, had health insurance to help pay for her husband’s healthcare costs and money saved for funeral expenses. After he passed away, she continued to work until she felt she had sufficient for her needs. Now that she’s retiring, she owns her own home and has a little money set aside for a mission. She looks forward to visiting each of her children and taking grandchildren to the theater and museums. “I’m not wealthy,” she says, “but I have enough money to make great memories with my family.”