Gospel Story Finder

While we were at lunch, we sat with a man who is now a grandfather who said that his little four-year-old grandson came to him the other day and said, “Grandpa, why do the hummingbirds hum?” Grandpa said, “I don’t know. Why?” The little boy said, “Because they don’t know the words.”
It is unlikely that we will remember very many of the words that we’ve heard during the meetings of this conference. But I hope that we shall be able to “hum” the spirit of this conference and that we shall carry with us a great feeling of uplift because of our participation together. It has been a glorious time. The Spirit of the Lord has been with us. We have every reason to be grateful. We have been refreshed in our testimonies and strengthened in our faith.

Mia Maids Kate Hancock and Charmaine Davison, from the Sydney suburbs of Revesby and Gymea, have been friends since they were very young. Even though they live about 45 minutes apart, they go out of their way to do things together. They like the same music, they enjoy spending time together (especially at the beach), and sometimes they even like the same boys.
That closeness became even more precious last year when tragedy struck Kate’s family.
“My nephew, Ben Innis, died just before Christmas, and Charmaine helped me through it,” says Kate. “She always reminds me to go to the scriptures when I feel bad about it. She helps me remember that we know where he is and that he’s all right.”
But it was more than just Charmaine’s good advice that kept Kate going. It was also her willingness to listen, to sympathize, and to care that helped Kate through a very rough time.
“My grandfather had died some time previously,” says Charmaine. “I was just devastated. He died during school holidays, so I had heaps of time to read the scriptures. It helped me so much, and I knew it would help Kate, too.”
So now when Kate and Charmaine list the kinds of activities they like to do together, they not only include things like shopping, talking on the phone, and sports, but they also remember things like studying the scriptures and attending the temple.
“When you do temple work for a member of your family, and you feel really worthy to be there, it helps you feel closer to people who are gone,” says Charmaine. “It’s such a good feeling.”
And, not surprisingly, Kate couldn’t agree more.

I’m under pressure, like most British students—especially during exams. Since I’m LDS (East Grinstead Ward, Crawley England Stake), I’m supposed to take time for scripture study, too. It can seem like one thing too many. But this summer, as I was sitting A-levels (taking finals), I discovered how much scriptures mean to me. We had been building up to these exams the last five years, and studying specifically for them for the last two years. It was like life stopped almost. I spent all my time revising (studying), working really hard.
Art is my favorite subject, and I had lots and lots of assignments to submit by a certain date. I had 20 hours before they had to be handed in, and I still had a lot of work to do. I’d been ill for a week, so I was way behind. I was staying up all night, and at two o’clock in the morning, the work I was doing was deteriorating to the point that it was really bad. I had put a lot of work into the whole exam, and if I didn’t hand it in the next day, I would fail automatically.
Over the last week, I’d been reading the Book of Mormon every night. I’d never, of my own initiative, started reading the scriptures like that. For some reason I just thought it was about time I did. I’d reached the point where I really enjoyed them. They became easy to understand.
By now it was three in the morning. I was tired and couldn’t work anymore. I prayed that I would be able to finish the next morning, that I would have the strength and that my work would be to my best potential. I read my scriptures before I went to bed.
The next morning, after early-morning seminary, I spent the whole time painting. I should have been tired, but I wasn’t. I was amazed because the work I was doing was just so much higher than my normal standard.
I have a solid testimony now that if you make time for the spiritual things in life, it will help in all areas. I set a goal that throughout the exams, I’d read the scriptures as regularly as possible. Because of the work you have to do, you may be inclined to forget seminary, forget Mutual, forget everything because you have to study. I think keeping up with all your Church goals really helps more than you realize. I felt I had the Spirit with me constantly. It was a good experience for me.

Robert sat on the swing in his backyard and stared at the overcast sky. It was a boring Friday afternoon, and he couldn’t think of anything to do. His best friends, Will and Jason, were visiting their grandparents over the Thanksgiving weekend. Robert didn’t have any grandparents. The juicy brown turkey and shimmering red cranberry sauce had been eaten yesterday. Oh, there’d be turkey sandwiches and turkey soup, but the actual turkey dinner was only a memory. Even the pumpkin pie topped with whipped cream was a thing of the past—Robert had polished off the last slice right after lunch. There was nothing to look forward to now but a long, empty weekend.
Robert kicked at some of the leaves on the ground. The air was cold, and the sky seemed like a gray blanket above him. With his luck, it would probably snow too. As he stared at the clouds, he saw something red out of the corner of his eye.
Turning his head, Robert saw that that something red was floating past the chimney of a house down the street. It was a balloon! A bright red balloon was floating lazily on the wind currents.
Robert watched the bobbing balloon, fascinated. Forgetting the cold, overcast afternoon, he stood up and ran toward the balloon.
The balloon drifted lower and lower until it was directly over Robert’s head. When he reached up to grab it, the balloon drifted out of his reach. He ran after it and jumped when he was directly beneath the bright object. His hand snagged the balloon’s short string, and he pulled it down. A bright red balloon was a wonderful thing to have on a gloomy Friday-after-Thanksgiving!
As Robert ran his hand over the balloon’s smooth surface, he felt something strange. Turning the balloon around, he saw a label stuck to the side of the balloon. It read:
HAPPY THANKSGIVING!
From Ethel Gazelle
Pine Crest Nursing Home
St. Louis, Missouri
Robert had never received a Thanksgiving balloon before. And this balloon had traveled more than sixty miles! Why, his Thanksgiving weekend was turning out to be pretty exciting. Even if he didn’t have grandparents to visit like Will and Jason did, he had a Thanksgiving balloon.
Suddenly Robert had an idea. Holding tightly to the balloon’s string, he raced home. Carefully he released the balloon in his room, where it rose slightly and hovered over his books and papers. Robert pulled off his jacket and hung it on its hook. Then he sat down, found a clean piece of paper and a pencil, and wrote:
Dear Mrs. Gazelle,
I found your red balloon on the Friday after Thanksgiving. Thank you for sending it. It traveled more than sixty miles to Union, Missouri, where I live. My name is Robert, and I’m nine years old. Would you like to be my pen pal? I never had a Thanksgiving balloon before. I like it very much.
Sincerely,
Robert Webster
Satisfied, Robert carefully copied Mrs. Gazelle’s address onto the front of an envelope. Then he wrote his address in the upper left-hand corner. He folded his letter, tucked it inside the envelope, put a stamp on it, sealed it, and took it to the mailbox on the next block.
Robert wondered if Mrs. Gazelle would write back. Maybe they could be pen pals for a long time. He could send her letters and birthday and Christmas cards.
It would be almost like having a grandmother.

Julie sat and listened to the others talk. She wondered if she would be able to say anything without crying. It would be difficult. But then she decided that maybe it didn’t matter if she cried or not. These were her friends and they’d understand.

Above everything else, Julie was so glad to be alive. Each day when she woke up, she took delight in things she’d taken for granted before—the sun, the blue sky, the song of birds—it was such a wonderful world.

Julie was a senior. In two weeks she would graduate. Her senior year had been something she would never forget. She and her friends had been together all through school, and they realized that this was their last year to be together. They all wanted to have some good memories.

Julie had been in the pep club since she was a sophomore. She’d made some very good friends. Most of them weren’t LDS, but they were still great friends. They respected her beliefs and didn’t complain if she didn’t drink when they all got together after a game.

One day Vicky Kramer, her best friend since the eighth grade, talked to her. “Julie, after lunch tomorrow a bunch of us are going up to Daryl’s cabin to have a party for all us seniors. Daryl’s dammed off a section of the creek so we can go swimming. You’ll come, won’t you?”

“I don’t know, Vicky,” she began.

“I know what’s bothering you. Okay, there will be a keg there, but we’re getting diet soda especially for you. C’mon, we just want you to be with us. This is one of the last times we’ll have to all be together. Please.”

It was hard to say no to Vicky.

The afternoon with all the seniors had been a lot of fun. These were some of her best friends, and they all knew their time together was growing to a close. In the fall, they would scatter to colleges all across the country.

There was not just one keg, but two, and near the end of the party, there was still a lot left in one of the kegs. “C’mon, everybody, let’s finish this up,” someone kept saying.

Near midnight they decided to head back to town. Somehow Julie and Vicky got separated, and Vicky ended up in a car driven by Ross Turner, a senior basketball player who’d received a full-ride scholarship to the state university.

Julie was in the car driven by Bruce Seeley. Bruce had been one of the most eager to help finish up the last remaining dregs from the keg.

“Bruce, why don’t you let me drive?” Julie had asked.

“I can drive perfectly well.”

“You’ve been drinking all day but I haven’t. C’mon, it’ll be safer.”

“No girl can outdrive Bruce Seeley.”

“She’s right,” someone said, “she’s the one who should drive.”

By this time the first car, the one driven by Ross, had already taken off.

They switched places, and Julie got in the driver’s seat.

“Did you ever hear the story,” Bruce said, “that ends, ‘You’d better drive. You’re too drunk to sing’?”

It was a gravel road heading down a steep mountain canyon leading to home, so Julie drove slowly.

“It’s going to take us forever to get down at this rate,” Bruce said.

A few minutes later when they rounded a corner, they saw the first car. It had slid off a curve and hit a large tree.

Vicky Kramer died in the accident.

Julie stood up, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’m so grateful to know that life goes on after we die. You all know about Vicky. Well, I miss her so much …”

What are you going to spend your Chinese New Year money on?
I’m going to buy a new jump rope.
I’m going to buy candy.
I’m going to buy a new bag.
I’m going to save it.
What should I do with my money?
I know what to do with some of my money first!
The next Sunday …
Thanks for your donation, Chung.
You’re welcome!
It feels good to pay my tithing first. I know it makes Heavenly Father happy.
This story took place in Taiwan. Chinese New Year will be on February 1 next year!

Really for us? I honestly thought that President Hinckley must be talking to those who weren’t reading. After all, we had nightly scripture study, family home evening, and family councils; we prayed together. We thought we would just continue reading a few verses a night.It was a few days later that it hit me: a prophet of the Lord asked us to read the Book of Mormon by the end of the year, and I’m going to ignore it? That night we met as a family, and I was astonished at the resounding “Yes” I received as a commitment to meeting the goal. I told the kids that we would have to read on vacations, birthdays, nights when we were tired. “No problem” was the response.It didn’t take long for the spirit of that great book to take over. We started to understand gospel principles, to communicate more as a family. My wife and I felt our testimonies were strengthened, and I heard the kids explaining scripture stories as if they had served missions and taught the gospel for years! Taking this challenge has changed our lives forever. Shawn O’Leary, Poulsbo, Washington, USA

Now that I had a testimony of the restored gospel, what about my ministry? I still had 10 months left in my contract as a minister. After much prayer and counseling with God, I decided to complete my service. For the next 10 months, I continued to share traditional Bible truths, but when possible I added the perspective of the restored gospel. People resonated with those truths, and my little flock grew from 20 to nearly 150.

My life changed in a big way the year I turned 16. Like most of my friends, I had entered a complicated stage in life. It seemed that all my thoughts were increasingly centered around my problems and aspirations. I worked to excel in school, tried out for the top choir, lettered in track, and even went to the prom.
Then on a Tuesday evening late in the spring, my whole perspective changed. My dad gathered the family in the living room, explaining that he had something important to tell us. Never before have I seen my parents look so dismal and depressed. Dad explained that my mom had breast cancer. My father went on to explain that the odds were very good that with treatment Mom would be okay and the cancer would go into remission. Emotion erupted in my home with tears and hugs. I struggled with my feelings, searching for a way to deal with the emotion welling up inside.
It was Mutual night, so I decided to go. But while I watched everyone else laughing and playing volleyball, I felt lost. Could anyone understand what I was going through? In my mind I said a silent prayer, asking Heavenly Father to give me the strength to help support my mother and the rest of my family.
Slowly a comforting feeling grew within me. I realized that, although it might be hard for others to understand my feelings, Jesus Christ always knows our troubles and hardships. I thought of a scripture I knew in John 14:18, “I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you.” It reminded me that if we go to him, Christ will help us to bear our burdens and give us comfort.
Over the next year my mother had surgery and multiple radiation and chemotherapy treatments. Throughout that year I relied very heavily on the comfort of the Holy Ghost. With that added strength I was able to support my mother through her illness and help out at home. Now the doctors have declared my mom successfully in remission. Although a chance for recurrence exists, she will probably continue to be healthy.
Through our trial my family has grown much closer. I learned to be less selfish, and I came to recognize that my family and the relationship I have with them is what is truly important in my life. Most important, I realize now that the Savior knows all that we experience and we are never alone. He is always there, ready to extend his love to us.

In 1978 Isaac was eight years old. He lived in a small African village in Cross River State, Nigeria. His house was made of bamboo poles packed with mud, and it had a roof made of palm leaves. Isaac loved his village and all the people who lived there.
The village was surrounded by a lush, green forest. There were palm trees, banana trees, ferns, and bamboo. To get to the next village, Isaac walked down the dirt road through the forest or rode his cousin’s old bike.
His family had a small farm where they grew their own food. They ate soup and gari, a dish that looks like oatmeal and is made of boiled roots. Isaac and his sisters each had jobs to do. One of Isaac’s jobs was to walk down to the river and get water for his family.
On Sundays, Isaac and his family went to church. Their meetinghouse was also made of bamboo and mud, and it had a neat, white sign: THE CHURCH OF JESUS CHRIST OF LATTER-DAY SAINTS. There was a big brass bell in front.
At church, Brother Ekong taught them about Jesus Christ. He read to them from the few books they had received from Salt Lake City, and they sang hymns. Isaac’s favorite hymn was “Come, Come, Ye Saints” (Hymns, number 30).
Like many other people in his village, Isaac had a strong testimony that the Church is true. They were waiting for missionaries to help them learn more about the restored gospel. Brother Ekong did not hold the priesthood, so he could not baptize them. More than anything, Isaac wanted to be baptized and become a member of the Church. His father told him, “The time will come when we can be baptized.”
When Isaac and his sisters went into the forest to cut sticks for firewood, Isaac prayed for missionaries to come. While he sat on the bank of the river and watched the colorful fish swim back and forth, he sang hymns. He often pretended the Mormon Tabernacle Choir was singing with him.
One day his father told the family that there would be a special meeting on Saturday. Before the meeting, they would fast for 24 hours. At the meeting, they would pray for the missionaries to come.
On Saturday, Isaac and his family put on their best clothes. Isaac’s stomach growled with hunger, but he hardly noticed because he was so excited.
Soon the bell rang and the people of the village gathered at the small meetinghouse. It was very crowded. Brother Ekong led them in a hymn and then prayed that the Lord would send the missionaries. Many other people took turns praying. Isaac’s mother had tears on her cheeks. They sang again; then it was time to go home.
As the people were leaving, a car pulled up in front of the meetinghouse. Two men and two women got out. Isaac had never seen anyone with skin so pale. Brother Ekong talked excitedly to them. Then he went to the bell and rang it loudly. Everyone quickly returned to the meetinghouse.
Brother Ekong welcomed the four strangers and told them that the village had waited for this glad day for many years. One of the men, Elder Rendell Mabey, stood and told them he was a missionary sent to them by the prophet, President Spencer W. Kimball.
Elder Mabey bore his testimony of the restored gospel. Then Elder Cannon bore his testimony, and Sister Mabey and Sister Cannon also shared theirs. The day was very hot, but no one wanted to leave. The people asked many questions. Elder Mabey promised to return and teach them more. He told the villagers their time had come and soon they could be baptized.
On the last day of December 1978, Isaac’s family and many others gathered on the riverbank where the river had deep water and a gentle current. When it was Isaac’s turn, he waded into the river. Elder Mabey took him by the wrist, said the baptismal prayer, and lowered him into the water. The warm sunlight sparkled on the surface of the water as Isaac waded back to shore. His heart felt warm and sparkly too.

Lately I have been falling into a “spiritual slump.” I had not been saying my prayers or reading the scriptures like I should. I was also letting some of the negative attitudes from school affect how I was treating my family and how I judged things. Then, in the New Era, I saw the scripture Doctrine and Covenants 19:28: “Thou shalt pray vocally as well as in thy heart; yea, before the world as well as in secret, in public as well as in private.” I was curious why we should pray vocally. I had always known I should have a prayer in my heart, but I had never heard of praying vocally besides at church or during family prayers.
I was curious, and something told me I should pray out loud. The next day, when everyone else was gone from the house and I was alone, I went up to my room to try it. I cleaned my area of the room so I could kneel down and think of the Savior and my Father in Heaven. I started my prayer by thanking Heavenly Father for my blessings. Praying out loud was kind of awkward at first, so I stumbled over my words and felt a little silly, only hearing my voice.
I repented for the little things and then opened my mind a little more and started repenting for being disrespectful to my parents sometimes. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, I knew I hadn’t obeyed the Lord and was not keeping His commandments to the best of my abilities. I opened my mouth and prayed for forgiveness more earnestly than I had ever done before. I asked to be forgiven for all the times I had not said my prayers because “I was too tired” or “it was too late at night,” for the times I hadn’t read my scriptures for the very same reasons, for not keeping my mind and my heart clean so I could be worthy to be an example to others, and for not being as kind and loving to my family as they are to me. Realizing all I had done, I began to cry. I felt warm inside. I knew the Lord had forgiven me, I knew He loves me, and I knew that He wants to comfort me and have me feel of His love.
I continued my vocal prayer and thanked Him for the many blessings He has given me. I had realized just how important the Atonement of our Savior Jesus Christ is. It is in His name that we communicate with our Heavenly Father as much as we want (see 3 Nephi 18:18–20). We can turn to Him whenever we need guidance, help, or comfort.
I know that my Father in Heaven loves me and wants me to return to Him. And I can—as long as I just hold on.

I close by reading a simple yet profound letter that reflects our love for our prophet and his leadership:
“Dear President Monson,
“Five years ago, President Hinckley was sustained as prophet, seer, and revelator. For me that was an extraordinary occasion which had to do with your calling for the sustaining vote of the Church.
“On that particular morning, I needed to haul hay for my livestock. I was enjoying conference on my truck radio. I had picked up the hay, backed into the barn, and was throwing down hay bales from the back of the truck. When you called for the brethren of the priesthood, ‘wherever you are,’ to prepare to sustain the prophet, I wondered if you meant me. I wondered if the Lord would be offended because I was sweaty and covered with dust. But I took you at your word and climbed down from the truck.
“I shall never forget standing alone in the barn, hat in hand, with sweat running down my face, with arm to the square to sustain President Hinckley. Tears mixed with sweat as I sat for several minutes contemplating this sacred occasion.”
He continued:
“In our lives, we place ourselves at particular places when events of large consequence occur. That has happened to me, but none more spiritual or tender or memorable than that morning in the barn with only cows and a roan horse looking on.
“Sincerely,
“Clark Cederlof”

“Why do we have to come so early?” Ashley grumbled as she and her parents and brothers sat down in the chapel. Mom and Dad wanted the family to be at church a whole 15 minutes before sacrament meeting started! She’d barely had time to eat breakfast and brush her teeth before it was time to go.
“I like to watch people as they come in,” Mom said.
Ashley noticed Mom looking at the people as they walked into the chapel.
“What are you looking for?” She glanced at the Mendez family as they walked in, but she didn’t notice anything different from usual.
Mom’s gaze moved from one person to the next. “I’m trying to see who might need some extra love.”
“How can you tell?” Ashley asked.
“I notice if anyone seems sad,” said Mom. “Or worried.”
“But how do you know?”
“I look at their faces, especially their eyes,” Mom said. “People’s eyes often show their true feelings.”
“Huh. I guess that makes sense.” Ashley paid closer attention to the people around the room. Mom was right! Some ward members had eyes that seemed a little sad. Sister Henderson looked like she’d been crying. Brother Henderson wasn’t there. Ashley remembered her parents saying that he was very sick with cancer.
Mom wrote down some names in a notebook she kept in her purse. Then the prelude music started, and she put away the notebook.
Later that day Ashley found Mom writing cards. “Are those for the people we saw at church?”
Mom looked up from her writing and nodded. “This is just my little way of helping others. We can’t always take away their problems, but we can try to help. A card shows that someone cares. It’s like an extra dose of love.”
An extra dose of love. Ashley liked that! “How can you know everyone who needs a card?”
“I can’t,” said Mom. “That’s why I pray first. I ask Heavenly Father for His help.”
“Does He tell you who needs a card?” Ashley asked.
“Sometimes I keep thinking about a person. That’s one of the ways the Holy Ghost can speak to us.” Mom signed the card she’d been writing. “I don’t know all the problems people have. Only Heavenly Father knows that. But I want to help where I can.”
Ashley remembered that Mom had wanted a box of cards and stamps for her last birthday. Now Ashley knew why.
That night Mom put a stack of stamped cards on the counter, ready for tomorrow’s mail.
“How many did you write?” Ashley asked.
Mom smiled. “Eight today. I may write a few more during the week as I think of people.”
Ashley thought of her friend Janine, whose parents were getting divorced. Janine was really upset about it and had been crying after school. “Can I use one of your cards?” Ashley asked. “I want to send one to Janine. Maybe it’ll help her feel better.”
“Of course you can.”
Ashley searched through Mom’s box of cards and picked one with bluebirds on it. She found a pen and started to write. “Dear Janine. …”

Four years later, Katie, one of my daughters-in-law, underwent an emergency C-section to deliver twin baby girls at 25 weeks of gestation, too close to the threshold of infant viability for comfort. When the girls were just eight weeks old, Katie was returning home late at night from her daily visit with them in the neonatal intensive care unit of the hospital and was hit and killed by a drunk driver, leaving my son a widower with six children.
My wife was everything to me, and my son’s wife was everything to him. Those were tough times for our family.
I didn’t fully appreciate how great Tanya was and how much I depended on her until she was gone. But we had knelt at an altar in a holy temple, and someone having the sealing power had pronounced blessings upon us. I have clung to the promise of those blessings. I trust in those promised blessings.
Tanya’s death was a crisis of faith for me. I had to decide, “Do I really believe?” Faith is called a gift of God, but it’s also a choice we make—a choice to believe. I chose to believe, and I found out that Moroni was correct when he wrote that we receive no witness until after the trial of our faith (see Ether 12:6). After the trial, the witness did come. My faith was rewarded with a confirming peace of mind. That’s what has enabled me to go forward.
As my second wife, Becky, says: “We need faith the most when we face a crisis. Going to the Lord really is the only answer. It is the way to cope and hope.”
Brother Evans and his wife, Becky, share photos of his daughter-in-law and her twin baby girls.
For a time, I struggled to figure out what was faith and what was hope. Alma describes faith as a “hope for things which are not seen, which are true” (Alma 32:21). Because of my faith in Jesus Christ, I have hope that if I remain faithful and true to my covenants, I can share eternal life with Tanya. I am also grateful for the assurance I have that the Savior is there for each of us. There’s a difference between thinking, “He’s there” and realizing, “He’s there for me.”
My two grandchildren have lasting ill effects from their car accident, and I still grieve Tanya’s absence in my life. I’ll never stop missing her, and the love I have for her is not diminished by the love I have for my second wife. The love has just multiplied.
My son has also remarried. His new wife is Becky’s first cousin once removed. We both married into the same family. What are the odds of that? It’s an amazing coincidence, or maybe it’s not.
Our family has had its share of challenges, but we have also experienced blessings. My son has become one of my heroes. He forgave the drunk driver who killed his wife, and he told her he hoped she would straighten out her life. His two little girls recently celebrated their fifth birthday. They are real miracle babies.
“I am grateful for the assurance I have that the Savior is there for each of us.”
For the past 17 years, I have had the privilege of serving as a patriarch. At first, I was afraid I couldn’t fulfill the calling, but I have learned that the blessings come from the Lord, not the patriarch. There are common themes in patriarchal blessings because our Heavenly Father wants many of the same things for all His children, but each blessing is different, individual, and personal.
One of the purposes of a patriarchal blessing is to help individuals see who they are as children of God and to discern how much their Heavenly Father loves them. As a patriarch, whenever I lay my hands on someone’s head to give them a patriarchal blessing, for just a few precious moments, Heavenly Father allows me to feel the love He has for that individual. It is an overpowering feeling. When I feel how much He loves each blessing recipient, I can feel that He loves me too.
“Nothing brings me greater joy than the promises of the temple, which give me hope that through Christ, I can overcome all trials,” says Brother Evans.
Today, Becky and I focus on the temple. One of the reasons our Lord has given us the temple is to give us a glimpse of Zion. In addition to being a patriarch, I was invited some years ago to serve as a sealer in the temple. That has been another great joy of my life. It is a calling of all happy occasions. Nothing brings me greater joy than the promises of the temple, which give me hope that through Christ, I can overcome all trials.

A few years ago I was in a Salt Lake hospital emergency room with my sons and a neighbor boy—the result of a backyard touch football game.
While we waited in the emergency room for the doctor to put one of the participants back together, we saw a young lady brought into the hospital. She may have been 17—tall, willowy, well dressed, and having a wild reaction to an overdose of drugs. While we watched, she collapsed, and I thought, There is no way this young woman can survive this experience.
I wondered how she had come to this sad situation in her life. Had she not heard the words of the prophets? Had she heard them and laughed as if their words were the warnings of men out of touch with the realities of a modern world? Had one of us been negligent in our opportunities to teach her? Had her parents known the truth but not been willing or able to help her understand?
While waiting in that hospital thinking, pondering, and praying for her, I recalled a principle the Lord teaches us in the 89th section of the Doctrine and Covenants. It is found in the fourth verse:
“Behold, verily, thus saith the Lord unto you: In consequence of evils and designs which do and will exist in the hearts of conspiring men in the last days, I have warned you, and forewarn you, by giving unto you this word of wisdom by revelation” (D&C 89:4).
Consider carefully the principle: “I have warned you, and forewarn you, … by revelation.”
We in this church stand before the world, in all humility and sincerity, and declare that Joseph Smith Jr. was raised up by the Lord Jesus Christ and appointed to be the mortal instrument through which the doctrines, powers, keys, priesthood, and ordinances were restored to the earth. Since that day there has been a continual flow of revelation through those who have followed as the Lord’s appointed Apostles and prophets.
Today we sustain Gordon B. Hinckley as the President of the Church, as the prophet, seer, and revelator, and as the only one who possesses and is authorized to exercise all priesthood keys. We also sustain the First Presidency and the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles as prophets, seers, and revelators. Before he became the President of the Church, President Hinckley sat for many years as one of those men who hold this sacred revelatory power. He whom the Lord has called and we have sustained is not a novice in the principles, process, and practice of receiving divine direction.
There is a question that each of us must deal with in a most solemn and serious way if our lives are to be what the Father of us all would have them be. “What is our response when the living prophets declare the mind and will of the Lord?” This is the test of mankind in every dispensation.
I sat in this tabernacle some years ago as President Joseph Fielding Smith stood at this pulpit. It was the general priesthood meeting, the last general conference before President Smith passed away. He said: “There is one thing which we should have exceedingly clear in our minds. Neither the President of the Church, nor the First Presidency, nor the united voice of the First Presidency and the Twelve will ever lead the Saints astray or send forth counsel to the world that is contrary to the mind and will of the Lord.”
There came to me that evening a witness of the Spirit that he spoke the truth. I felt an overwhelming sense of peace and assurance that the Lord loved us and would not leave us without direction.
President J. Reuben Clark Jr. drew a very important distinction concerning revelation from the Lord:
“Some of the General Authorities have had assigned to them a special calling; they possess a special gift; they are sustained as prophets, seers, and revelators, which gives them a special spiritual endowment in connection with their teaching of the people. They have the right, the power, and authority to declare the mind and will of God to his people, subject to the over-all power and authority of the President of the Church.”
President Clark continues: “Others of the General Authorities are not given this special spiritual endowment and authority covering their teaching; they have a resulting limitation, and the resulting limitation upon their power and authority in teaching applies to every other officer and member of the Church, for none of them is spiritually endowed as a prophet, seer, and revelator.”
I emphasize that the rest of us do not have that specific power and authority. The Seventy have an endowment that is uniquely theirs; temple presidents and matrons, stake presidents and bishops, as well as fathers and mothers, have an endowment that is uniquely theirs; but none of us has the power, authority, or responsibility that is given to the First Presidency and the Twelve.
One’s intentions may be of the purest kind. The sincerity may be total and complete. Nevertheless, pure intentions and heartfelt sincerity do not give members of the Church authority to declare doctrine which is not sustained by the living prophets. While we are members of the Church, we are not authorized to publicly declare our speculations as doctrine nor to extend doctrinal positions to other conclusions based upon the reasoning of men and women, even by the brightest and most well-read among us.
The prophets are not only called to receive the doctrine and direct the ordinances through the keys they hold. They are also responsible to keep the saving doctrine pure so that people can hear and feel that doctrine in its sure and certain form.
Surrounded as we are by worldly influences, how can we maintain a sweetness of spirit and a humility that will make us receptive to such counsel? I fear that we have become so enamored with recreation, with fame and fortune, with videos, with television, and with what money can buy that we have little time for eternal things. Yet to obtain a knowledge of the doctrines of eternity requires sacrifice, effort, and struggle. Furthermore, we have learned to live in a world of clamor and noise and haste and hurry to the extent that we have often become immune to the Spirit of the Lord and the “peaceable things of the kingdom” (D&C 36:2).
How do we prepare ourselves to be in harmony with the First Presidency and the Council of the Twelve?
On one occasion during the Savior’s mortal ministry, he was challenged by those who were opposing him. They wondered how a person could speak with such certainty without the education of the world.
“Jesus answered them, and said, My doctrine is not mine, but his that sent me.
“If any man will do his will, he shall know of the doctrine, whether it be of God, or whether I speak of myself” (John 7:16–17; emphasis added).
We must learn the will of our Father in Heaven by earnest study. Next, we must act upon it. Study alone is not sufficient; we must act upon the words of revelation before we know of a surety of the truthfulness of the doctrines.
In all solemnity and soberness I state that God has made known to me in an unmistakable way that he has called and he sustains those who are the living prophets, seers, and revelators. The Lord God of Israel will direct them, and they will not lead us astray.
We do not need greater prophets. We need listening ears. We need hearts that are sufficiently pure that we can feel their words. We need souls that will commit to the keeping of our covenants.
My prayer is that each of us may have that watershed experience of life of having the Spirit carry with power—even fire—to our souls the assurance that we are being directed by His appointed servants.

For some, the suffering is extraordinary. In the early days of the Church Stillman Pond was a member of the second quorum of the seventy in Nauvoo. He was an early convert to the Church, having come from Hubbardston, Massachusetts. Like others, he and his wife, Maria, and their children were harassed and driven out of Nauvoo. In September 1846 they became part of the great western migration. The early winter that year brought extreme hardships, including malaria, cholera, and consumption. The family was visited by all three of these diseases.
Maria contracted consumption, and all of the children were stricken with malaria. Three of the children died while moving through the early snows. Stillman buried them on the plains. Maria’s condition worsened because of the grief, pain, and the fever of malaria. She could no longer walk. Weakened and sickly, she gave birth to twins. They were named Joseph and Hyrum, and both died within a few days.
The Stillman Pond family arrived at Winter Quarters, and like many other families, they suffered bitterly while living in a tent. The death of the five children coming across the plains to Winter Quarters was but a beginning.
The journal of Horace K. and Helen Mar Whitney verifies the following regarding four more of the children of Stillman Pond who perished:
“On Wednesday, the 2nd of December 1846, Laura Jane Pond, age 14 years, … died of chills and fever.” Two days later on “Friday, the 4th of December 1846, Harriet M. Pond, age 11 years, … died with chills.” Three days later, “Monday, the 7th of December, 1846, Abigail A. Pond, age 18 years, … died with chills.” Just five weeks later, “Friday, the 15th of January, 1847, Lyman Pond, age 6 years, … died with chills and fever.”
Four months later, on May 17, 1847, his wife, Maria Davis Pond, also died. Crossing the plains, Stillman Pond lost nine children and a wife. He became an outstanding colonizer in Utah and later became a leader in the quorums of the seventy. Having lost these nine children and his wife in crossing the plains, Stillman Pond did not lose his faith. He did not quit. He went forward. He paid a price, as have many others before and since, to become acquainted with God.

When Eva found that her husband was involved with pornography, she felt “intense pain, anger, heartache, depression, and obsession.” Obsession is actually a common feeling for someone who experiences the trauma of betrayal of a spouse’s pornography use, and Eva’s behavior in response to these intense emotions is also not unusual. She began to obsess about her husband and his actions. Where was he? Who was he talking to? What was he doing? His pornography and sex addiction became the center of her life, and she desperately wanted to fix him, believing that if she could get his problem under control, they would be happy.
Eva is divorced and regularly attending 12-step meetings, where she finds safety and validation as she works on her recovery. She has come to understand that while she once made her husband’s addiction the focus of her life, healing comes as she puts the Savior at the center of her life and efforts.

Let me tell you about two sister missionaries who called at a home one morning before the husband went to work. They were welcomed in, so they immediately told about Joseph Smith’s first vision, the angel Moroni, the gold plates, and the restoration of the priesthood. Then the senior companion, noting that about forty-five minutes had gone by, said, “We would like to return next week to tell you more.”

To which the husband exclaimed, “Next week?” He walked to the door, locked it, put the key in his pocket, and said, “You’re not leaving here till you’ve told us all you know about Joseph Smith and this restored gospel!” They were there all day. The family asked for baptism that same evening.

It was 12:15 A.M. on a cold night. I had just left the police station and climbed into the blue Alfa Romeo of the Italian carabinieri. All Italian young men are required to devote a year to military or government service; I had been assigned to the police. My duty for that day was patrolling the cities of Jesolo and Cavallino, just northeast of Venice, between midnight and 6:00 A.M.
I had not always gotten along with my partner because of his temperament and my lack of patience. However, our relationship had improved substantially during the previous week.
Suddenly a call for assistance came over the radio. “Avanti dalla trentuno,” I answered. Headquarters informed us that a bank robbery had just taken place in a rural town north of Venice. My heart accelerated as I anticipated the potential danger. The officer on the radio stated that a policeman had been shot during the robbery. The four men responsible were armed with Kalashinikovs, Soviet-made automatic weapons. They were supposedly heading at high speed toward Jesolo in a white Lancia.
“Ricevuto,” I signed off, automatically reaching for my weapon. I turned to my partner and asked, “What are we going to do if we run into them?” His answer was cold and direct. “Shoot.”
My partner quickly shifted gears. My mind started reviewing all the different circumstances in which I could find myself in the next minutes. I was aware that our lives were in danger and realized that if we confronted four armed men, our chances of staying alive were not good. My partner was silent, showing little emotion.
Am I willing to die for this job and my country? The question that arose in my mind was quickly answered by the words of the oath I had taken at the beginning of my service. I had promised to serve the people of Italy and to protect them from criminal acts, even if it meant losing my life.
As we turned onto the main street of Jesolo, my right hand tightened on the grip of the gun. The thought came again: Am I ready to die? Am I ready to go back to meet my Heavenly Father? I started thinking about my family, my life, and my testimony of the gospel. I pondered my weaknesses and almost instantly realized that my conscience was clear. I had no major regrets and felt that I had apologized to all the people I had been unkind to. That thought gave me an incredible feeling of peace. My racing heart slowed to normal, and my mind relaxed.
We did not confront the robbers that night. I concluded my year of service in the police a few months later, never having to fire a gun. But I will never forget that experience. It helped me recognize that our Heavenly Father could call me home at any time—and I want to be ready to leave this earth with the peace of a repentant and clean soul.

Remember the May 1992 Mormonad? It depicted a basketball player, quite a bit shorter than his teammates, holding the MVP trophy. The coverline read, “Don’t Sell Yourself Short.”
Well, Ty Church hasn’t.
At about the time he posed for that Mormonad, Ty, at only five-feet-two inches tall, broke into the starting lineup as a sophomore on the Olympus High School varsity basketball team in Salt Lake City. During his three years as a starter, Ty never missed a game, and was instrumental in the Titans’s successful 1993–94 hoop season. As a senior, Ty was the second leading scorer in the state tournament, he broke a Utah high school record by scoring 21 points in the first quarter of a game, and he helped Olympus to a second-place state finish. But now the basketball heroics have been put aside for a couple of years.
These days, Ty is known as Elder Church. After graduating from both high school and seminary, he became a full-time missionary last September. With an eight-week stay in the MTC behind him, Elder Church, 19, is now serving in the Czech Republic Prague Mission.