Gospel Story Finder

“This past year Christmas was very special to me. It was completely different from past Christmases. This year I engaged in helping many people during the pandemic.
“Though we couldn’t attend church or participate in some of our normal Christmas activities, helping others was still uplifting and made me feel the joy of Christmas. My family exchanged gifts with each other. We also made delicious food and served it to many of our friends of other faiths.
“I took the Light the World initiative diligently and served people. Doing so brought me peace and great happiness. I know Heavenly Father loves me and all His children. I know that Jesus Christ came to this world to love and to save us.”
Ruthwik V., 14, Bengaluru, India

I have also seen this principle work among other friends of mine. One week in Sunday School, the class was laughing about a girl they called “pit face” who had asked one of the boys, Mike, to the girls’-choice dance. I brought in a filmstrip about a girl renowned in her village for her ugliness. The filmstrip taught the class that after a young man was willing to treat her as if she were beautiful, the girl became very attractive. The class was touched, and they learned the Dulcinea principle. Mike went out with the girl and had a great time. Within a few weeks, two of the girls were able to report that they were becoming good friends with this girl and that she was really very nice.

I discovered joyful endurance during a time when I wanted to quit. In July 2022, I was half-way through a 13-mile Spartan race. Spartan races are obstacle courses organized by the company Spartan. The courses test physical and mental endurance through a series of 20 to 30 obstacles set up on trails ranging in length from 3 to 13 miles with 500 to 3,000 feet of elevation gain.

I was on a course at Snowbasin Resort on Mount Ogden in Utah. Kelsey Winn, a writer for Spartan, describes:
Snowbasin was home to the 2002 Winter Olympics. . . If it’s a challenge fit for Olympians, it’s certainly fit for Spartans. . . Mount Ogden. . . will have you climbing a 3,000-foot vertical to its summit in one of our toughest treks yet. The trails here are designed for epic ski conditions, so get ready for the staples of the course: intense elevation, technical terrain, and leg-burning hills. [3]

While I was staring up one of these “leg-burning hills,” my entire body felt tired from the hills, obstacles, heat, and altitude. Reaching the top seemed like an impossible climb. “It would be so easy to quit,” I thought.

My coach, who was racing with me, said, as if he read my thoughts, “You can do this. Focus on the next step.” His words took my focus from the top of the hill to my feet. Taking one more step was possible. I couldn’t control the hill’s height or slope, but I could control my choice to climb. The choice to climb became a joyful discovery of my ability and motivation to endure.

Some youth face different but equally difficult challenges.
Exavier R., 15, has been raised by his mother. “I saw other people with fathers in their lives, but I never had one in my life.” While Exavier’s mother works to support their family, he helps take care of his two little sisters. He wakes up every morning and helps them get ready for the day. He takes them to school before heading to his own school. After school, he picks them up, takes them home, and helps them with whatever they need. That takes a lot of strength and maturity, but people around Exavier “think I’m weak. I’ve seen a lot of bad things and been through a lot of hard things in my life, and people don’t know the real me,” he says.
Exavier and his mother joined the Church when he was 14. When he was baptized, his Young Men leaders became like fathers to him. “They guide me in the right direction and help me make the right decision,” he says. Most importantly, Exavier learned that he has a Heavenly Father who believes in him and expects him to do his best every day.

Bella F.: For a religious studies class we went on a trip to a Church meetinghouse, and all the missionaries were there. It was fun. I also thought it was a really good way to choose who my good friends were going to be because you could tell who really respected other people’s religions. They’d say things like, “Oh, so you don’t swear?” And they’d say, “OK, great, I won’t swear around you” and stuff like that. We talked about how we don’t drink coffee and stuff, and they said, “OK, we don’t have to go to coffee shops.” They were just all really respectful.

I especially loved the peaceful feeling when I stepped inside the Sacred Grove. It is truly a place where God and Jesus Christ have been. The peace there is much like the peace that a temple or Church building brings. It is truly the Spirit.
In the Sacred Grove we split into small groups and went off with our leaders. They taught us about the First Vision, and we each found a quiet spot to pray. I felt a real peace when I prayed. I felt reconfirmation that the Church is true.

When Kate Hansen was 10 her father drove her to Slider Search, a local clinic being held for kids to try out for luge. “I tell people that luge is like bobsledding,” says Kate. “At the clinic, they set up hay bales and cones on the street and then let the kids ride a trainer sled with wheels down the course. I went through the cones without crashing. I remember it being really fun. Plus they wanted to see how well I took direction.”
As a result of the clinic, both Kate and her cousin were invited to come to Lake Placid, New York, where the national luge training facility is located. The first time Kate tried out a real sled on an ice course, she loved it. It was fast and fun. “It’s like a roller coaster but pretty relaxing. It’s very flowing.”
The whole idea that riding something going so fast, just inches from crashing into walls of ice, would hardly seem relaxing to most people. But this ability to relax while moving has been the secret to Kate’s success.
Her mother, Kathie, remembers seeing her go down a run for the first time. She says, “It’s nerve-racking when you watch your daughter go by, and she’s going so fast. I wondered, ‘What have we gotten into?’ The coaches don’t know how she does it. She can have a bad start, but as soon as she is through the first curve, she’s leading everyone because she’s settling in and relaxing and just feeling the curves.”
Her mother thinks the ability to relax might come from Kate’s skateboarding and surfing, two popular activities in La Cañada, California, where the Hansen family lives. “Kate used to lay down on her skateboard, going down the driveway with her ponytail dragging.”
While learning this new sport, Kate says, “I was just the girl from California who had her ukulele. Before races some people warm up by sitting in the corner, staying really focused. Others zone everyone out. Then there are those who listen to music and dance. I was one who danced and sang, trying to keep my mind off of what I was doing. That’s when I did well. I was just there for fun.”
Each year at the USA training facility, Kate is given a sled for the season. Last year she named her sled Ricardo—Ricky for short. “It’s your baby,” says Kate. “You take care of it.”
The sled is built to her size and can be adjusted slightly. “My sled is a lot different. I like it loose because it’s easier to steer. I did really well on it.” Kate does everything for her sled. She sands the steel runners. After races she puts oil on the steels so they won’t rust. She packs it carefully when traveling. “If you drop Ricky, you have to apologize,” she jokes.
Kate Hansen and her family haven’t had a real plan for her participation in luge. They seem to take and evaluate opportunities as they come. Heidi, Kate’s older sister, explains, “My brothers and I thought it was funny because she was luging, and no one really knows what that is. We thought she would only do it for a while, but then she would do well and get invited to train or to be on teams, so our family would say, ‘I guess she’ll move up.’”
Eventually Kate started to get noticed. In her first junior international competition at the junior level, she came in third, shocking everyone because she was so young and inexperienced. A few months later, at 15, she came in first at the Junior World Championship. She was only the third American to ever win. She now spends most of the winter months living with the team in Europe and competing on the Junior World Cup Tour. Her name has started rising to the top.
With the upcoming 2010 Winter Olympics, Kate will be invited to participate in the Olympic trials. There are only three slots on the team, and most of the competitors are much older. Kate finished sixth overall at the end of last season and looks forward to competing for a spot on the team. Whether she makes it or not, Kate has had fun participating and succeeding in luge, but it will not become the only focus in her life.
Kate’s mom and dad worry about their daughter’s keeping the right balance. “Mom didn’t want me to miss out on high school,” says Kate.
Kate is involved in school activities when she is home and maintains excellent grades. “Our goal is that she is going to college,” says her mother. “And her seminary teacher, Sister Frandsen, is kind enough to digitally record seminary every morning. We then e-mail the seminary recordings to Kate each week so she can listen to the classes. It is one of her spiritual foundations and a link to home when she is on the road.”
To help focus her goals, Kate has received her patriarchal blessing. In her blessing she was told that she would be watched by many people and would have missionary opportunities come to her.
Even so, Kate faces some hard situations when it comes to the party atmosphere that accompanies sports. It seems that drinking can become a stumbling point, especially when the team goes to Europe to compete. “After races, it’s party time. Everyone I met would drink. At first, I felt like the loner in the hotel. But I got over that feeling. My teammates knew better than to ask me to drink with them. After I won the worlds, my competitors would say, ‘Kate, you have to drink tonight.’ But I’d say no. My teammates would say, ‘No, she doesn’t drink. Don’t even ask.’”
Having a strong testimony is the bottom line for Kate. She is always excited to go to young women camp and youth conference with her stake. When asked about her favorite scripture, Kate mentions an experience she had while attending Especially for Youth. She hadn’t planned to bear her testimony, but then she had a feeling that someone there needed to hear what she had to say. She had been reading in her scriptures and had come upon Mosiah 8:18: “Thus God has provided a means that man, through faith, might work mighty miracles; therefore he becometh a great benefit to his fellow beings.”
Kate says, “I stood up and talked about my patriarchal blessing where it says I would be an example to others and people would be watching me. Now it’s my favorite scripture because it came as an answer to me.”
It seems that people are indeed watching Kate and what she chooses to do. At the end of the season, two of her teammates said they had stopped drinking because of her. “It was the biggest reward I have ever received,” says Kate.

The activities of June Conference meant the end of a year’s work on the Mia Maid youth ad hoc committee for Margaret Anderson of the Salt Lake Foothill Stake. She and other committee members served as a sounding board by filling out questionnaires on activities and lessons and then passing surveys out to friends. “I’ve really learned about the needs of others this past year, especially the needs of other Mia Maids. June Conference gave me the opportunity to present a skit about really getting involved in the Young Women program. It’s also been a lot of fun meeting new people from all over.”

I first became overtly aware of the profound influence of BYU in my life as a young high school student in our small, isolated, predominantly Latter-day Saint community in northern Arizona. Most of our graduates attended Arizona colleges, and indeed, as a result of winning a statewide public speaking contest, I was offered a scholarship to the University of Arizona, no mean inducement to an impoverished farm boy with few other prospects. Scholarships were very scarce in those days. Some of my teachers, and even my bishop, who was one of them and a University of Utah graduate, incidentally, counseled me to go to the University of Arizona. But the teachers who had the greatest influence upon me were BYU ­graduates, [they were] my science and my agricultural teachers, who had been students, respectively, of two of BYU’s greatest teachers, Joseph K. Nicholes and Thomas L. Martin. My consuming passion since the seventh grade had been the study of chemistry, and they arranged for me to acquire a full-year’s credit in college chemistry at BYU by examination and demonstration before I ever left home. Thus it transpired in due time that I arrived in the back of a pickup truck at the steps of the old Education Building, green and scared, nearly penniless, but eager to begin my college education. I endured the trauma of poverty and homesickness, but I have never regretted my decision to attend BYU.

When I left with my baccalaureate degree to begin graduate study elsewhere, it was with no thought that I might ever return. Consequently, it was a considerable surprise when on the eve of receiving my Ph.D. degree I received a telephone call offering me a position on the BYU faculty. I had already accepted an appointment as a Milton Fund post-doctoral research fellow at Harvard University, and I had several very tempting offers designed to take effect at the end of that appointment, one to the faculty of my graduate alma matter. All of them by any standard of the world offered far more than BYU—more than twice as much. I was ambitious and prospects for professional achievement at BYU seemed dim; yet we knew fellow Mormons on faculties of eastern universities who had lost their entire families from the Church, partly at least, we felt, due to lack of sufficient LDS influence in their lives. Other factors were involved, of course, but one could not lightly dismiss any major positive influence on a growing family. My wife was supportive, as she has always been, of whatever major decision of this kind I should make. I was torn. My graduate professors regarded returning to BYU as professional suicide. On the other hand, it seemed to me, none of my undergraduate college, high school, and public school mentors, to whom I owed so much, had chosen their place of employment primarily for personal advantage. In retrospect, I think, I never wavered in my emotional commitment to BYU, but I could not escape the nagging feeling that rational analysis dictated otherwise. In any event we did finally choose to return to share the fortunes of a BYU just emerging from the rigors of the World War II years, and here we have remained to make a career and to rear our family in spite of renewed offers to go elsewhere. We will be eternally grateful for having made those decisions. . . .

In the winter, Mother and Father like to hibernate in the 150-year-old house that they are restoring. But Crystal and her sisters enjoy sledding in their backyard, ice skating in town, and participating in Friday-night sleep overs. Making snow sculptures can be fun too. One time, instead of making a snowman, Father, Dawn, and Crystal made a pink snow bunny with Easter eggs! Many people drove by to see it.

Some years ago as a seaman on the USS Bairoko, I had an experience that taught me the importance of having a reliable lifeline. Our aircraft carrier was operating off the coast of Korea in rather choppy seas. As one of the Corsair fighter planes was attempting a landing, the ship rolled sharply, and the plane bounced off the flight deck, flipped over, and landed upside down, dangling partly on the ship and partly in the water. The pilot was rescued by a team of men linked together by a lifeline that enabled them to make their way down the wing to the plane’s cockpit. It became necessary, however, to rig a large crane to retrieve the plane.
The boom, or arm, of the crane was stored in a cradle, or saddle-like device, approximately six to eight feet out from the side of the flight deck over the water. The rather dangerous assignment to release the boom was given to me.
I put on a life jacket, and a lifeline secured to a steel cleat on the deck was placed about my waist and between my legs. Three men stood on the flight deck holding on to the line to save me should I slip from my precarious position.
With my arms and legs straddling the boom, I inched my way along over the churning waters. The men holding the lifeline kept assuring me that they would not let me fall—at least not very far.
When I reached the cradle where the boom rested, the nut and key bolt securing it appeared to be somewhat rusted from months at sea. It appeared that a great deal of force would be needed to jar it free. This would be no small trick while I was sitting astride the slick, round boom. The lifeline team readied themselves, knowing that the push with my rigger’s spike might throw me off balance and cause me to fall.
With the spike in place, I leaned forward, making a quick, heavy thrust, expecting the nut to resist my effort. Unexpectedly, the nut spun free, and the force of the thrust sent me quickly off the boom. Surprisingly, however, rather than tumbling down into the water, I spun completely around and stopped atop the boom in an upright position. By grasping the steel cradle, I was able to steady myself. The men holding the lifeline had stood firmly in place, carefully managing the line, making my situation as guarded and safe as possible.
Soon the boom was rigged, the plane lifted aboard, and the crew returned to their regular duties.
Several days later we arrived in port in Kobe, Japan. Waiting to welcome me there was a letter from my mother. After words of greeting and family news, Mother had written: “We try not to worry too much about you, Rex. We pray for you every day.”
My recent harrowing experience at sea had made me grateful for the strength and support of a lifeline in the hands of strong and reliable men. My mother’s letter reminded me of the lifeline of the greatest security and trust, the gospel of Jesus Christ. That lifeline is secured in the hands of God. If I would hold to it and live by it, it would hold me secure to eternal life.

This story happened in Nicaragua.
Vanessa waved goodbye to Mami and walked into the church building. Some of her friends were already here! She loved Primary activities.
Sister Fonseca was setting up a craft table. There were ribbons, colored strings, and stickers. Vanessa couldn’t wait to find out what they would be making!
After the prayer, Sister Fonseca gave some instructions. “Today we will make gift bags. You can give them to someone you love.” She handed a brown paper bag to each child.
Vanessa was excited to start decorating. She chose a yellow heart sticker and put it on the front of the bag.
Next, Vanessa folded a paper to make a card. “You are a child of God,” she wrote. She drew lots of stars and hearts on it.
Sister Lopez passed out some cookies and cupcakes to put inside their bags. Vanessa put the card inside too. Perfect!
Soon Mami came to pick her up. “Look!” Vanessa held her bag up for Mami to see. “It’s to give to someone special.”
“Beautiful!” Mami said. “Who will you give it to?”
“I don’t know,” Vanessa said. “I want to give it to someone who needs love.” Then Vanessa had an idea. “Can we go for a walk to find someone to give it to?”
“Sure,” Mami said. “Let’s go!”
Vanessa held Mami’s hand and carried her bag of love in her other hand. They turned down a quiet street. Maybe someone here needs love, Vanessa thought.
But as they walked, Vanessa frowned. There was no one on the street!
“Let’s try going this way.” Mami led Vanessa down another road. But again, no one was outside.
Vanessa sighed. “What should we do?” she asked.
“Why don’t you say a prayer in your mind?” Mami said. “Ask Heavenly Father to guide you to someone you can help.”
They turned down one more street, and Vanessa said a silent prayer. Heavenly Father, please help me find someone who needs some love.
A few minutes later, Vanessa saw a little boy walking on the sidewalk.
Vanessa’s face lit up with a smile. “Hi,” she said to him. “I want to give this to you.” She held out the bag.
At first, the boy looked confused.
“It’s OK. You can take it,” Mami said gently.
Slowly, the boy reached out and took the bag. A big smile spread across his face.
“I made it for you with a lot of love,” Vanessa said.
Vanessa felt happy as she watched the boy run back to his house. She knew he was special to Heavenly Father.
How did Vanessa share Heavenly Father’s love?
Illustrations by Vicky Scott

Joseph Smith was the only prophet of this dispensation to labor as a full-time missionary while presiding over the Church. During the first years after the Restoration, as the infant Church began its amazing growth, Joseph undertook preaching missions on various occasions.
One small treasure in the archives of the Church Historical Department is a worn leather journal, 14 pages of which tell of Joseph’s missionary trip into Canada in late 1833.* Joseph’s entries in the journal appear almost daily; half are in his own handwriting and the others he dictated. This is the earliest diary account we have of any mission of the Prophet. Prodded by “Father” Freeman Nickerson, a convert from western New York, Joseph, along with Sidney Rigdon, his first counselor, set out to preach to Brother Nickerson’s relatives and others along a 250-mile crescent stretching north and east from Kirtland, around Lake Erie, and west into Canada.
Let us follow the Prophet’s four-week journey by examining the entries in his private diary.
With team and conveyance provided by Brother Nickerson the three started eastward from Kirtland on October 5. The next day at Springfield, Ohio, they attended a meeting of the Saints, where, as Joseph recorded, “Brother Sidney spoke to the people, etc., and in the evening held a meeting at Brother [John] Reed’s. Had a great congregation, paid good attention. Oh God, seal our testimony to their hearts. Amen.”
Journeying along the shores of Lake Erie they visited with various Church members, holding similar meetings. One week from Kirtland the missionaries stopped at Brother Nickerson’s home in Catteraugus County, New York. Here the Prophet noted: “I feel very well in my mind. The Lord is with us, but have much anxiety about my family.” Did Joseph, like most missionaries, feel here a tinge of homesickness? Evidently so, for that night he received a revelation (D&C 100) wherein the Lord assured him and Sidney that their families were well and in his care, adding that there were many people in the region of their mission awaiting their testimonies. “Continue your journey and let your hearts rejoice” were their instructions.
On Sunday, October 13, a large congregation listened to Elder Rigdon preach, followed by the Prophet. “I bear record to the people,” Joseph wrote. “The Lord gave His spirit in marvelous manner for which I am thankful to the God of Abraham. Lord bless my family and preserve them.” When starting for Canada the next day, Joseph recorded a quick plea: “Lord, be with us on our journey. Amen.” He tells of one disappointment on October 15 when a meeting scheduled for a Presbyterian meetinghouse was canceled because the man who kept the keys refused to open the door. From there the missionaries turned westward, arriving three days later at the home of Eleazer F. Nickerson, the second son of Freeman Nickerson, at Mount Pleasant, Upper Canada.
The following Sunday they preached to an attentive congregation in the morning and a large gathering that evening, which “gave good heed to the things which were spoken. What may be the result we cannot tell but the prospect is flattering.” During a Tuesday evening meeting, while it was “snowing vehemently,” the missionaries were verbally attacked and then denied the right to speak by a Wesleyan Methodist. This caused Joseph to write: “We find that conviction is resting on the minds of some. We hope that great good may yet be done in Canada, which O Lord grant for thy name’s sake.”
During that week the missionaries’ preaching brought success. On Wednesday they interviewed a Mr. Wilkeson, who was a leader in the Mount Pleasant Methodist group. “He could not stand our words,” the diary reads. “Whether he will receive the truth the Lord only knows. He seemed honest.” Thursday, a wet day, their preaching at Weathersford drew only a small congregation. But at Mount Pleasant that evening a fine meeting developed: “One man, [Eleazer] Nickerson declared his full belief in the truth of the work. Is with his wife who is also convinced to be baptized on Sunday. Great excitement prevails in every place where we have been. The result we leave in the hand of God.”
But their excitement about the pending baptisms diminished somewhat during a negative Friday discussion with a Mr. Patrick, which caused Joseph to lament: “People very superstitious. Oh God, establish thy word among this people.” But later that evening, before an attentive audience, “the Spirit gave utterance” to the Latter-day Saint preachers.
As anticipated, October 26 was a successful Sabbath and the highlight of the proselyting venture. Joseph and Sidney first preached to a large congregation at the Nickersons’, then took 12 converts into the waters of baptism, including Brother Nickerson’s two adult sons, Moses and Eleazer. That evening they “held a meeting for confirmation. We broke bread, laid on hands for the gift of the Holy Spirit. Had a good meeting, the Spirit was given in great power to some and the rest had great peace. May God carry on his work in this place till all shall know him. Amen.”
Because others at the Sunday meetings felt deeply impressed, another service was held Monday morning. Here two more souls were baptized and then confirmed at the water’s edge. At candlelight, to provide a leader for this new cluster of converts, the missionaries ordained Eleazer Nickerson an elder. “Had a good meeting,” Joseph noted. “One of the sisters got the gift of tongues which made the Saints rejoice. May God increase the gifts among them for his Son’s sake.”
The mission was accomplished and affairs at Kirtland needed their attention after a month’s absence. The missionaries spent the next five autumn days on the road. Upon reaching Kirtland, Joseph added a final comment to the missionary journal: “Found my family all well according to the promise of the Lord, for which blessing I feel to thank his holy name. Amen.”
In his own words Joseph Smith not only provides details regarding a successful mission but also conveys his strong conviction about the truthfulness of his work. His hopes, worries, concerns for loved ones, disappointments, and successes all revolved around the Lord. Deep and genuine dependence upon Him in his daily affairs characterized this little-mentioned mission of the Prophet.

May I begin by sharing with you a personal experience from a time many years ago when I received an unwelcome but valuable message from my devoted father. After World War II was over, I was married and wanted to get on with my life. My memorable mission was finished before my military service. I was not anxious to become a student again and go back to the university where I had started some eight years before. My intended course would require another three years of intensive study, discipline, and poverty. With all of this in mind I said to my father, “I don’t think I will go back to school. I’ll just get a job or start a business and go forward in my life.” Now, my father had completed law school after World War I as an older student with a wife and three children. His response was typically direct. He said bluntly, “What can you do?” His answer was so brutally honest that it hurt, but I could not ignore it. I went back to the university and completed the course. This frank but well-intentioned message changed my life.

My father had an idea that his boys ought to learn to work, and so he bought a five-acre farm which eventually grew to include more than 30 acres. We lived there in the summer and returned to the city when school started.
We had a large orchard, and the trees had to be pruned each spring. We learned a great truth—that you could pretty well determine the kind of fruit you would pick in September by the way you pruned in February. Further, we learned that new, young wood produces the best fruit. That has many applications in life.

Some years after Maeser’s passing, the university once again faced financial struggles. To finish the construction of the new Maeser Memorial Building on Temple Hill and to keep the university afloat, it was decided the best path forward would be to sell all the university’s remaining land to the north of the building to balance the budget.

Alfred Kelly was the student graduation speaker assigned to endorse this plan. But Kelly was unsettled about the assignment. In the days leading up to his graduation speech, he decided to walk to the area they called Temple Hill, above the Maeser Building, and pray. As he surveyed the valley, a vision unfolded before his eyes.

“Gradually the morning light advanced across the valley floor toward the spot where I stood. I closed my eyes partially to the advancing light and was startled by the strange vision that seemed to appear before me. The advancing sunlight took on the appearance of people, thousands of young people who approached me, their arms laden with books. I turned around to find the area behind me illuminated as well. In that light I saw hundreds of buildings, large and beautiful temples of learning. Those young people passed by me and entered in. Then, with cheerfulness and confidence, they turned toward the east and lifted their eyes heavenward, where, again becoming part of the sunlight, they gradually disappeared from my view.”23

You see, Alfred Kelly saw you and he saw me.

The audience that day was stunned. Longtime BYU benefactor Jesse Knight rose to his feet and pledged his financial support, declaring, “We won’t sell an acre. We won’t sell a single lot.”24 The faith of Alfred Kelly—a student just like you—helped see us through.

About 10 years ago I felt impressed to paint a portrait of the Savior. Though I am an artist, this felt a bit overwhelming. How was I to paint a portrait of Jesus Christ that captured His Spirit? Where was I to begin? And where would I find the time?
Even with my questions, I decided to move forward and trust that the Lord would help me. But I had to keep moving and leave the possibilities to Him. I prayed, pondered, researched, and sketched and was blessed to find help and resources. And what was a white canvas started to become something more.
The process wasn’t easy. Sometimes it didn’t look as I had hoped. Sometimes there were moments of inspired strokes and ideas. And many times, I just had to try again and again and again.
When I thought the oil painting was finally complete and dry, I began to apply a transparent varnish to protect it from dirt and dust. As I did, I noticed the hair in the painting start to change, smear, and dissolve. I quickly realized that I had applied the varnish too soon, that part of the painting was still wet!
I had literally wiped away a portion of my painting with the varnish. Oh, how my heart sank. I felt as though I had just destroyed what God had helped me to do. I cried and felt sick inside. In despair, I did what anyone would typically do in a situation like this: I called my mother. She wisely and calmly said, “You won’t get back what you had, but do the very best you can with what you’ve got.”
So I prayed and pled for help and painted through the night to repair things. And I remember looking at the painting in the morning—it looked better than it did before. How was that possible? What I thought was a mistake without mend was an opportunity for His merciful hand to be manifest. He was not done with the painting, and He was not done with me. What joy and relief filled my heart. I praised the Lord for His mercy, for this miracle that not only saved the painting but taught me more about His love and power to save each of us from our mistakes, weaknesses, and sins and to help us become something more.

A wise first step is to guide each deacon to a spiritual awareness of the sacredness of his ordained calling. In one ward, this lesson was effectively taught pertaining to the collection of fast offerings.

On fast day the ward members were visited by deacons and teachers so that each family could make a contribution. The deacons were a bit disgruntled, having to arise earlier than usual to fulfill this assignment.

The inspiration came for the bishopric to take a busload of the deacons and teachers to Welfare Square here in Salt Lake City. Here they saw needy children receiving new shoes and other items of clothing. Here they witnessed empty baskets being filled with groceries. There was no money exchanged. One brief comment was made: “Young men, this is what the money you collect on fast day provides—even food, clothing, and shelter.” The Aaronic Priesthood young men smiled more, stepped higher, and served with a willing mind in the filling of their assignments.

When Samuel was 21, he went to Harmony, Pennsylvania, where his brother Joseph and Oliver Cowdery were translating the Book of Mormon. On 15 May 1829, just days before Samuel arrived, Joseph and Oliver had received the Aaronic Priesthood from John the Baptist and had baptized each other with that newly conferred authority.

In Harmony, Joseph showed Samuel part of the Book of Mormon that he had translated and “labored to persuade him concerning the Gospel of Jesus Christ, which was now about to be revealed in its fulness.”

Joseph wrote that Samuel wasn’t “very easily persuaded of these things,” so Samuel “retired to the woods, in order that by secret and fervent prayer he might obtain of a merciful God, wisdom to enable him to judge for himself. The result was that he obtained revelation for himself.”2

On 25 May 1829 Samuel was baptized, the third person in this dispensation—following Joseph and Oliver—to receive that ordinance. Later that year Samuel was one of the Eight Witnesses privileged to examine the gold plates. The next spring, on 6 April 1830, he was one of the six original members when the Church was formally organized. Others were also working to share the gospel, but in June 1830, Joseph set Samuel apart to be the Church’s first officially called missionary.

When I hear someone say they can’t serve because they don’t feel well, I remember a stake I once visited in Mexico. The stake president spoke about a lesson he learned from his wife. He said that a week before the conference, he had scheduled some home teaching visits but came home from work and didn’t feel well. He told his wife that he guessed he wouldn’t go home teaching because he was sick. Her reply to him was, “Go sick!” And he went.