Gospel Story Finder

There was a Brother and Sister Andrus from Walnut Creek, California, who had served four missions, and then they were called to go to Zimbabwe and assigned to the district in Bulawayo in Zimbabwe. This was their fifth mission.
As they told of the marvelous things that they were able to do in reactivating people, she told a story of how there was a little portable electronic organ in the chapel and how she started showing some of the boys and girls in Bulawayo how to play the organ. There was also a little piano keyboard in another room, and she would have a class where the organ was and another one where this little keyboard was. She would teach these children to play the organ after school. They said they started a temple preparation class in the reactivation process, and before they left they were able to put 28 people on the bus to go from Bulawayo all the way to Johannesburg to the temple, 650 miles away—two days and one night. They said, “We’ve talked about how we are in our late 70s now—these two old people wandering around in Africa having the greatest period of our lives, the greatest excitement we could have.”

I used to attend a school where it was hard to be a Latter-day Saint. The LDS students were a minority, and not many of the other students shared our standards. It seemed especially frustrating for me because my parents divorced during my first year of high school.
My family was divided. We fought all the time. My parents couldn’t say anything kind about each other, and they discouraged me from attending church. Our home was full of conflict.
During that time, life was pretty confusing for me. I guess that’s when I really discovered the scriptures. My family wasn’t supportive of my scripture reading. Even my mother used to tell me it was a waste of time. But in the Book of Mormon I found someone else who had to deal with family problems—and reading of his experiences gave me strength to deal with my own.
Nephi’s father, Lehi, often had to counsel Nephi’s older brothers, Laman and Lemuel, “because of [their] stiffneckedness … ; for behold they did murmur in many things against their father” (1 Ne. 2:11).
“And it came to pass that Laman was angry with me, and also with my father,” wrote Nephi; “and also was Lemuel, for he hearkened unto the words of Laman. Wherefore Laman and Lemuel did speak many hard words unto us, their younger brothers, and they did smite us even with a rod” (1 Ne. 3:28).
I tried to set a good example for my family. I went to church, attended Mutual, and prayed regularly. I even invited my mom to get active in the Church again.
Nephi also tried to set a good example and encouraged his brothers to return to the Lord: “And now I, Nephi, … spake unto them, saying, … Behold ye are mine elder brethren, and how is it that ye are so hard in your hearts, and so blind in your minds, that ye have need that I, your younger brother, should speak unto you, yea, and set an example for you?
“How is it that ye have not hearkened unto the word of the Lord?” (1 Ne. 7:8–9).
Sometimes, in private, I cried. Sometimes I prayed for my family. Always I felt lonely.
Again, I knew Nephi had experienced similar feelings: “Behold, Laman and Lemuel would not hearken unto my words; and being grieved because of the hardness of their hearts I cried unto the Lord for them” (1 Ne. 2:18).
When I was sad, I knew Nephi had known sadness. When I was discouraged, I knew Nephi had known discouragement. When I was lonely, I knew Nephi had known loneliness.
No, my story doesn’t have a nice, neat ending. I wish I could say we all lived “happily ever after,” but that hasn’t happened yet. My home is still unhappy. But Heavenly Father has given me the scriptures, and I know He understands exactly what it is like for me at home. Although the conflict hasn’t stopped, at least I have found comfort and peace and ways to cope.
Nephi said: “I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded, for I know that the Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save he shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the thing which he commandeth them” (1 Ne. 3:7).
Just as Nephi knew the Lord would help him accomplish anything he was commanded to do, I know Heavenly Father will continue to strengthen and support me as I struggle to deal with a troubled earthly home. The scriptures are my lifeline to my heavenly home.

Two young elders were beginning to feel desperate for a place to stay. They had knocked at many doors in the little English village and they had talked with members of the Church and non-members. No one was interested in giving “digs” (a room with meals provided) to two Mormon missionaries.
The elders felt that they had checked every possibility and that they had wasted days in following leads. But their efforts met with failure after failure. They had prayed for help but no help came.
Then the elders decided that there was just one last thing to do—add fasting to their prayers. One of them was so discouraged that he said he was a little doubtful whether even this would bring results, but he was willing to try anything.
Whenever the missionaries had a problem, they usually fasted for only twenty-four hours, but when these two young men had not found a place to live after that period of time, they decided to fast for another day and night. After forty-eight hours of fasting and prayer, the young men still had not been successful. By this time they had returned to the same tracting area for the second time.
Hardly knowing whether they were being guided by inspiration or desperation, one of them was impressed to knock on a door from which they had been rather rudely turned away the first time they had called. There was no answer but a neighbor saw the elders and recognized them. She remembered their request and called out, “You’re still looking for a place to live, aren’t you?”
When they told her they were, she said, “Well, I happen to know of a lady who is looking for some people to live with her.” And as it turned out, this was a perfect place for the elders to stay.
Said one of the elders in telling this experience later, “We gratefully recognized that the Lord had accepted our fast and answered our prayers. I gained more of an understanding of the ways of my Heavenly Father. We should have fasted at first, for He directed us only after we started fasting and had put forth considerable effort and after there was sufficient sacrifice.”

Their eldest son, Michael, first met missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in primary school. At that time, schools held religious instruction from different denominations and Michael would come home excited to tell the family how much he enjoyed these classes.
The missionaries soon visited the McIlwaines and taught the gospel of Jesus Christ to the whole family. Betty remembers feeling the power of the Holy Spirit at her very first meeting with the Whyalla Branch, especially during the sacrament service.
The McIlwaine family was baptised in the Whyalla sea on 29 December 1962. On Christmas Day of 1967, the whole family flew to New Zealand to be sealed for time and all eternity in the Hamilton New Zealand Temple. After that first visit, Betty and Bill fell in love with the temple and returned as often as they could afford it.

Once I had to choose between attending a Church activity and going to a friend’s party. It was a difficult decision. I didn’t want to disappoint my friend, but I felt that attending the Church activity was more important. I prayed about it, and I felt peace about choosing the Church activity.
My friend was disappointed at first, but she understood my decision when I explained my reasons. My experience showed me that when I put God first, everything else falls into place. It also strengthened my belief that God will guide me when I seek His help through prayer.

Years later I thought of that moment again. My wife and I were being taught by the missionaries. The missionaries asked me, “Do you believe that you can become like God?” I had never thought about it. But I thought, “If Heavenly Father is actually my Father, He would want the best for me, like my dad did. He would want me to be able to become like Him.” So I said to the missionaries, “Yes, I believe I can be like my Heavenly Father.”
The moment I answered, I knew what I said was true.

I remember walking home from church alone the day I became a deacon. I didn’t know much about the Holy Ghost then, but He bore witness to me as I walked home that I held the holy priesthood and that it was very important. I’ve never forgotten that.
Heavenly Father and His Son Jesus Christ love you very much. Children are pure and close to Heavenly Father, and you can have incredibly powerful spiritual experiences, just like my experience as a deacon walking down the street. If you will remember these spiritual experiences throughout your lives, they will serve as a very strong foundation for future spiritual growth.

A couple of weeks later, our branch was visited by a beloved member of our stake presidency. He gave a talk in the sacrament meeting and invited everyone to remain faithful in their trials and to prepare for the temple. He asked all the members to pray for us to go to the temple again. His talk was comforting to our wounded hearts and gave us hope that one day we will be able to attend the temple.

In 1947 Elder Ezra Taft Benson (1899–1994), then a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, called my grandfather, James H. Walker, to be president of the Taylor stake in Raymond, Alberta, Canada. Until that time my grandmother, Fannye Walker, had served for many years as the stake Young Women president. She loved this assignment.

When Elder Benson extended the call to President Walker, he said that President Walker’s wife should not continue to serve as stake Young Women president so that she could support him in his responsibilities and so that others outside their family could have the opportunity to serve. Grandma was unhappy. She loved the young women, loved her calling, and wanted to continue to serve in that capacity.

Years later President Benson recounted the experience to me. He said, “Your grandmother was very disappointed when we released her. But the next time I saw her, she told me that she understood and accepted the need for her to be released.”

When I told my biological father that I had become a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I could not understand why he was so calm.
“Let me tell you a bit of my history,” he said.
My father, who had never talked to me about religion, told me that as a young man, he had attended the Church’s Cumorah Ward in Cape Town. He had played on the ward basketball team. He had made several close friends who were Latter-day Saints. One of his best friends was a missionary who, after his mission, was killed in Vietnam.
Had my dad not lost that friend, I think he would have joined the Church. His life would have been a whole different story. Years later, he still had great respect for Latter-day Saints. He didn’t practice any religion himself, but he absolutely supported my decision to join the Church.

An example of true love and inspired teaching was found in the life of the late James Collier, who had through his personal efforts reactivated a large number of brethren in Bountiful, Utah. I was invited by Brother Collier to address those who had now been ordained elders and who, with their wives and families, had been to the Salt Lake Temple to receive those eternal covenants and blessings for which they had so earnestly strived.

At the banquet honoring this achievement, I could see and I could feel the love that Jim had for those whom he had taught and rescued and the love they had for him. Unfortunately, Jim Collier at that time was afflicted with a terminal illness and had to persuade the doctors to allow him to leave the hospital to attend this final night of recognition.

As Jim stood at the pulpit, a large smile came over his face. With emotion he expressed his love to the group. There wasn’t a dry eye to be found. Brother Collier quipped, “Everyone wants to go to the celestial kingdom, but no one wants to die to get there.” Then, lowering his voice, Jim continued, “I’m prepared to go, and I will be there waiting on the other side to greet each of you, my beloved friends.”

Jim returned to the hospital. His funeral service was held just a short time later.

In 1993, after I had served as president of the Mexico Tuxtla Gutiérrez Mission, we traveled as a family to see my parents, who lived in northern Mexico. During the trip we talked about the joy of serving the Lord and seeing the change in people who had accepted the gospel during the three years we were in the mission. We were commenting about those people who were baptized, confirmed, and had received the priesthood and the ones we knew had entered the temple and were sealed as families for eternity.
My youngest son asked a question that made me reflect: “Dad, are you sealed to your parents?” I told him that because my father had been less active for many years, he and my mother were not sealed in the temple. To help him become active, I thought up a plan. It involved my children, and I explained to them how we would do it: Every Sunday my father would get up early to take my mother and sister to church, only to return home, wait for the services to end, then go back to pick them up. So I assigned my children to go with him and say, “Grandpa, would you do us a favor?” I knew his answer would be, “Whatever you want, my children.” Then they would ask him if he would go with them to church and stay with them so he could listen to their testimonies. It was the first Sunday of the month. I also knew my father would give any excuse not to go, so I planned to enter the room to help my children convince him.
The time soon came for executing the plan. My daughter, Susana, approached my father and asked him about the favor. Sure enough, my father told her he would do anything he could for them. Then came the invitation to go to church, and just as we had predicted, he used this excuse: “I can’t because I haven’t even showered.” That’s when my wife and I, who were hiding behind the door, shouted, “We’ll wait for you!”
When we realized he was not making a decision, my wife and I entered the room and, together with our children, began to insist, “Shower! Shower!” Then what we expected happened. My father came with us, he stayed for the services, listened to the testimonies of my children, his heart was softened, and from that Sunday on he never missed church. Months later, at the age of 78, he and my mother were sealed, and we, his children, were sealed to them.

Even former enemies can become united in their discipleship of the Savior. In 2006, I attended the dedication of the Helsinki Finland Temple to honor my father and grandparents, who had been early converts to the Church in Finland. Finns, including my father, had dreamed of a temple in Finland for decades. At the time, the temple district would encompass Finland, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Belarus, and Russia.

At the dedication, I learned something surprising. The first day of general operation had been set aside for Russian members to perform temple ordinances. It is difficult to explain just how astonishing this was. Russia and Finland had fought many wars over the centuries. My father distrusted and disliked not only Russia but all Russians. He had expressed such feelings passionately, and his feelings were typical of Finnish enmity toward Russia. He had memorized epic poems that chronicled 19th-century warfare between Finns and Russians. His experiences during World War II, when Finland and Russia were again antagonists, did nothing to change his opinions.

A year before the dedication of the Helsinki Finland Temple, the temple committee, consisting exclusively of Finnish members, met to discuss plans for the dedication. During the meeting, someone observed that Russian Saints would be traveling several days to attend the dedication and might hope to receive their temple blessings before returning home. The committee chairman, Brother Sven Eklund, suggested that the Finns could wait a little longer, that Russians could be the first members to perform temple ordinances in the temple. All committee members agreed. Faithful Latter-day Saint Finns delayed their temple blessings to accommodate Russian Saints.

The Area President who was present at that temple committee meeting, Elder Dennis B. Neuenschwander, later wrote: “I have never been prouder of the Finns than I was at this moment. Finland’s difficult history with its eastern neighbor … and their excitement of finally having [a temple] constructed on their own soil were put aside. Permitting the Russians to enter the temple first [was] a statement of love and sacrifice.”

When I reported this kindness to my father, his heart melted and he wept, a very rare occurrence for that stoic Finn. From that time until his death three years later, he never expressed another negative sentiment about Russia. Inspired by the example of his fellow Finns, my father chose to place his discipleship of Jesus Christ above all other considerations. The Finns were no less Finnish; the Russians were no less Russian; neither group abandoned their culture, history, or experiences to banish enmity. They did not need to. Instead, they chose to make their discipleship of Jesus Christ their primary consideration.

Once upon a time, in a very small village, there lived two brothers. Peter, the older brother, was very smart and strong. He did everything well.
He planted his garden in nice straight rows.
He gathered his hay and straw into neat bundles.
He fed his chickens and cow well.
He chopped wood exactly the right size and piled it neatly by his little stove.
He kept his little cottage and the shelters for his animals clean and dry.
Yes, Peter did everything well.
Putter, the younger brother, was also smart and strong, but he did very little well. He played his guitar very nicely, and he sang beautifully, but that is all he did well. People thought Putter was lazy. Peter loved his brother and his brother’s music, so he was content to do most of the work for both of them.
When Putter was little, he followed Peter around as he did his chores.
“Let me help you,” Putter would beg.
Peter would hand him seeds to drop into the straight rows that Peter had plowed. But soon he would yell, “Putter, stop! Your seeds are not exactly the same distance apart. You don’t know how to do this.”
“I can learn,” Putter said.
“I can do it better myself,” said Peter.
When he was a little bigger, Putter got some hay to feed the cow. “Stop!” said Peter. “You’re not taking the right amount, and you’re dropping some on the ground.”
“Show me the right way, and I’ll do it,” cried Putter.
“No, I’ll do it myself. Why don’t you try feeding the chickens.”
Putter scattered corn for the chickens and laughed as they clucked around him. But no sooner had he started than Peter came rushing over to the chicken coop. “Stop!” he yelled. “You’re feeding them too much. They’ll grow swollen and sick, and I’ll run out of chicken feed.”
“Just tell me how much to give them, Brother. I want to help,” said Putter.
“No, you can sing and play, but stay out of my way while I’m working.”
Putter and his cat, Matilda, walked to the oak tree. He sat under it and played his guitar. He sang sweet songs, but he was not happy.
When he grew to be a young man, Putter decided that he must help his brother more, so while Peter was out working, he made a meal for him. He sang while he cooked, and he served Peter a dinner of soup, fresh bread, milk, and apples.
“This soup has too little salt,” said Peter, “and the bread is not crusty enough. My bread isn’t, either, but it’s better than yours. You had best let me do the cooking.”
One day Putter said, “Brother, I am too big and strong to allow you to do all the work and take care of me. I will move to the cottage down the road and have my own little farm.”
“How will you manage?” asked Peter.
“I will learn,” said Putter. He packed his things, picked up his guitar, and set out down the road with Matilda following. He got a cow, some chickens, some seeds, and an ax. He sang while he worked, and he worked very hard. He played his guitar and waited for his garden to grow.
When the green shoots came out of the ground, they were weak and straggly and the rows were very crooked. Some seeds had been planted too deep and didn’t come up at all. Some had been planted too shallow and were washed away by the rain or eaten by the birds.
“Oh dear,” said Putter. “I won’t have enough corn for my chickens. But I see now what I did wrong.”
The hay he planted grew a little, but Putter did not know how to tie and stack it properly or when to bring it in. One night, rain soaked it and made it moldy. “Oh dear,” Putter said. “I worked hard, but now there won’t be enough hay for the cow. However, I see now what I should have done.”
Winter was coming, so Putter chopped wood for his fire. When the snows came, he put some of the wood into his little potbellied stove. But the pieces were too long, and he could not close the door, so the fire burned too quickly, and soon his supply of wood was gone.
Matilda sat beside him while he played a sad song on his guitar. “I’m sorry, Matilda,” he said. “I’m a failure. I must admit my faults and take you and the cow and the chickens to my brother’s home, or we will all starve.”
He knocked on Peter’s door, but his brother did not open it. He knocked again. A weak voice called, “Come in.”
Putter found his brother in bed, looking very ill. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I was chopping wood. One piece was not exactly the right size, and when I trimmed it, the ax slipped, and I cut my foot deeply.”
“How glad I am that I came. I’ll do your chores and care for you until you’re well.”
“Oh dear,” Peter moaned as soon as Putter had gone out to the barn.
Putter tied his thin cow in the stall next to Peter’s fat cow. He looked to see how much hay Peter had set out for his cow, then gave both cows that same amount.
He put his chickens in the yard with Peter’s chickens. He looked at the corn Peter had measured out to feed the chickens, then added another measure just like it to feed all of them.
The sky looked a little stormy, so he gathered the neat piles of hay and straw and put them under shelter.
While Peter slept, Putter made dinner. “This time I will taste the soup so I will use enough salt. And I will butter the top before I bake the bread. That will make it crustier.”
While the soup simmered and the bread baked, Putter gathered apples and milked the cows. He chopped wood, too, remembering to make the pieces smaller.
When Peter awoke, the cottage was warm and cozy and smelled of good things. He heard sweet music and smiled. “I’m very hungry, Brother,” he said.
Peter tasted the meal that Putter had made. “Why, this is fine food, Brother. How did you do it?” Putter just smiled and strummed his guitar.
Peter tried to climb out of bed. “I must feed our cows and the chickens,” he said.
“I have done that already,” said Putter, gently pushing him back into bed.
“But you don’t know how!” Peter exclaimed. “And it’s raining! The hay will be wet—the firewood too.”
“They are dry, and the wood is chopped and stacked by the stove.”
Peter scratched his head. “How did you learn so much so quickly, Brother?”
Putter smiled again. “By my mistakes, I suppose. When I first played my guitar, I made many mistakes. Then I learned what I did wrong, and I improved. But when I made mistakes helping you, you never let me try again. In my little house, I did everything wrong. But God has blessed me with the brains to see my mistakes, and I am learning. Did you never make mistakes before you got so smart, Brother?”
“I suppose I did.” Peter thought a while. “Come to think of it, I’m still making mistakes. I kept my strong, smart brother from helping me, and I cut my own foot trying to be perfect. I’ll probably make more mistakes, but I hope you’ll stay here and help me.”
Putter played a happy tune on his guitar, Matilda curled up by the stove, and Peter smiled and tapped the floor with the foot that didn’t hurt.
“Perhaps you will show me how to make that delicious crusty bread, Brother,” said Peter.
“Of course I will.” Putter’s eyes twinkled as he added, “And if it doesn’t turn out well, I’ll let you try again until you get it right.”

Fifteen-year-old Taitia Wilihana spends much of his free time painting black designs on his face and sticking his tongue out at tourists. He does it in the name of entertainment and in an effort to educate people about his native culture. Taitia is a Maori, a descendent of the first people to inhabit his native New Zealand. He lives in Queenstown, a beautiful city on the southern tip of the south island; and because of its picturesque setting on the shore of Lake Wakatipu, it is a tourist mecca with plenty of interest in the Maori culture. Half of the youth in the Queenstown Branch—Rachel Ruru, 14, and Taitia—are Maori; and Taitia performs traditional songs and dances nightly at the town’s Maori cultural center, owned and run by Rachel’s parents.
Every night except Sunday and sometimes Monday, you’ll find Taitia on stage singing and dancing, while hordes of tourists watch and eat the traditional Maori hangi, food steamed underground. Taitia and his group have even performed for the prime minister of New Zealand. The cultural center is a sort of branch gathering place during the week. Branch members and missionaries often mingle with the audience and are asked questions about their heritage. Missionary-minded performers take advantage of this opportunity to mention the Church and its emphasis on family unity and family history. It’s all very subtle, but it leaves a strong impression.
“There are so many tourists coming and going, there aren’t very many permanent members,” explains Angelina Giles, 15, half of the branch Young Women’s group. “When the missionaries make contacts and get referrals, they’re usually with people from other parts of the world.
“There are so few of us here, and we have such different standards, that we really stand out,” she continues. “We’re all very close and we stick together.”
In Sundays the branch meets in a hotel conference room. Deacon Ashley Giles, 12, and Taitia, being the branch’s only Aaronic Priesthood holders, always pass the sacrament. Angelina is the ward chorister. Rachel helps in the Young Women program. During the week, the three oldest attend early-morning seminary, held alternately at Taitia’s house and at Angelina’s. All four have unwavering testimonies of the gospel and realize they’re blessed to have it in their lives.
“I’m adopted,” Taitia explains. “I’m the youngest of eight children now. My real mother is a relative of the family that adopted me. My adoptive mother used to look after her when she was little. I’m lucky though, because my family now has the gospel. My other one didn’t.”
“We’re all lucky to be members of the Church here,” explains Ashley, referring to the fact that since most people in Queenstown are there on holiday, many have a party attitude. The gospel, he explains, helps them remember the important things in life.
“If you can stay away from Satan’s temptations here, you’ll probably be good anywhere else,” agrees Taitia.
And they all plan to try their hands elsewhere. Ashley, at 12, isn’t quite sure yet where he wants to go or what he wants to do, but Angelina will spend a year or two at the LDS church college on the north island, then perhaps go on to study law. Taitia wants to go on a mission, then become a physical therapist, and Rachel thinks she’d like to study graphic design. This will require them all to leave their homes and families in Queenstown, although Taitia and Rachel will have family and a place to stay almost anywhere in the country because of their heritage. “It’s the Maori way,” says Taitia.
In the meantime, they realize that the tourism that seems to be almost everywhere in their town isn’t all bad. It provides them with a living.
“All our parents are involved in it somehow,” says Angelina. “Our dad works in the city of Dunedin, and takes people on yacht charters during the day. At night he does hotel work. To help support our older brother, who’s on a mission, our family delivers advertising flyers.”
You get the feeling that all four of the LDS youth in Queenstown have a sense of purpose. Through the gospel they have found normalcy and stability in a city teeming with adventure-seeking tourists.
“It’s a good way to grow up, and a good place to grow up in,” says Angelina. “We can never forget we’re children of a Heavenly Father who loves us.”

That night Sabrina found a pass-along card with a picture of Jesus on the front. She tucked it in her backpack.
The next day when it was time for recess, Sabrina remembered the card. She pulled it out and went to find her friend Carla. “Here, Carla, this is for you,” Sabrina said.
Carla held the card close. “Thank you! I love pictures of Jesus.”
Sabrina showed Carla the website on the back. “You can learn more about Jesus’s Church here.”
“What church is that?” Carla asked.
“The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints,” Sabrina said. “Going to church and learning about Jesus makes me happy.”
Carla put the card in her pocket. “I’ll show this card to my mom.”
A few weeks later, Carla ran up to Sabrina before class. “I have something to tell you!” she said. She had a big smile on her face.
Sabrina was excited. What could it be? Carla smiled. “My family went to your church! And it was like you said—I felt happy there.”
“I knew you would feel the Holy Ghost!” Sabrina said.
“And I think we’re going to get baptized soon!”
Sabrina jumped up and hugged Carla. Now they could share their testimony treasures together!

On a hot July day when Alma Elizabeth was ten years old, she went to a ward meeting. The people felt very discouraged because their crops needed rain. President Brigham Young came to the meeting, and she listened carefully when he rose to his feet and spoke. He promised the people that if they would listen to his words, the Lord would open the heavens and send the rains.
The words hardly left the prophet’s lips when Alma Elizabeth noticed the gathering clouds. Soon they filled the sky, and rain poured down in torrents. On that day she received a great testimony of the gospel that she remembered all her life.

Along with my unclean language came other bad habits and bad crowds. And when I finally decided to clean up my language, I was engulfed in other sins I needed to clear up. But this time I had decided to quit for the right reasons. Because I wanted to repent. I wanted to be clean in God’s sight, and not just to act ladylike.
This was no short process. And it was hard—hard to regain control of my life and rebuild my testimony. Speech might seem like a small thing when there are so many other worse things we could be doing. My first offense seemed so innocent at the time. I realize now that the world tries to make sins—regardless of their size—look insignificant, but any sin offends the Spirit. And when the Spirit wasn’t with me, I wasn’t under God’s influence and I grew farther from Him.
Putting my decision into action brought the Spirit back into my life. I could again feel the Lord’s guiding influence, and He helped me with all the other problems in my life when I was sincerely trying.

Note how carefully we have been instructed on how to confer priesthood authority. When I turned 12 years old, my father, Charles Oaks, and my bishop, George Collard, laid their hands on my head and conferred upon me the Aaronic Priesthood and ordained me a deacon.

Several years later, then Elder Gordon B. Hinckley used this same heavenly directed procedure to ordain me a Seventy. Each ordination reflects additional divine trust and a new opportunity to serve on the Lord’s side.

“You won’t understand everything the first time, but always go back to the temple and keep learning more throughout your life.”
My bishop gave me this advice right before I received my endowment, and he was right! I’ll never forget the Spirit and the love I felt in the temple, but afterward, I quickly forgot a lot of it, and I wasn’t sure how to apply everything I had learned.
Which just made me want to keep going back to learn more.
Elder Robert D. Hales (1932–2017) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles taught, “Temples are the greatest university of learning known to man.”1
But how can we learn in the temple?
We all learn differently, so as we seek revelation, the Holy Ghost can teach us individually and make the temple a “house of learning” for each of us (Doctrine and Covenants 109:8).
Here are a few experiences that have shown me how personalized learning in the Lord’s house can be.
Temple preparation isn’t just a class we take before receiving our endowment. We can always prepare ourselves to learn before each visit.
Heavenly Father wants us to learn and to seek answers. We can pray for help, we can search the scriptures, and we can even fast or do family history work prior to our temple visit to better open our hearts to the knowledge that can be found there. President Russell M. Nelson said: “One may … read in the Old Testament and the books of Moses and Abraham in the Pearl of Great Price. Such a review of ancient scripture is even more enlightening after one is familiar with the temple endowment.”2
Before every temple visit, I try to have a question in mind about the gospel, about my life, or about the ordinances, and I ask Heavenly Father to help me recognize the voice of the Spirit to understand what He wants to teach me. Preparing beforehand always helps me invite a spirit of learning in the temple. And when we let go of the things of the world within the temple and seek to hear Him, we can open our hearts to the Spirit and learn in whatever ways He wants to teach us.
When I was getting married, I felt anxious. My family still chuckles at how I tapped my fingers on my knee (a nervous tick of mine) as the temple sealer spoke to us. I wasn’t afraid to marry my husband—I loved him! But I was worried about the future because I was making such an important covenant. I silently prayed when I entered the temple to know what I could do to keep our marriage strong in a world that was growing increasingly turbulent.
A few moments later, the temple sealer told my husband and me to remember that every ordinance in the temple points us to Jesus Christ. The Spirit helped me recognize this message as an answer from Heavenly Father, and the temple sealer’s words deepened my testimony that as my husband and I consistently turned to the Savior, especially through temple work, we could strengthen our marriage through eternity.
This experience reminded me that Heavenly Father cares about the questions in our hearts and can provide comforting wisdom to us in the temple in personal ways. As President Ezra Taft Benson (1899–1994) taught: “When I have been weighed down by a problem or a difficulty, I have gone to the House of the Lord with a prayer in my heart for answers. These answers have come in clear and unmistakable ways.”3
During one temple visit in a particularly busy time in my life, my mind was elsewhere, and I was in a hurry to do the ordinances and be on my way. But a kind temple worker quietly suggested that when we slow down and consider the sacred work we are doing, we can feel the profound Spirit that resides only in the Lord’s house. I believe that temple worker was prompted to help me understand a truth. And I was reminded of how we can receive knowledge from so many different sources in the temple. I have received revelation in the temple by silently praying, searching the scriptures in waiting areas, meditating on the words of the ordinances, and, yes, even talking with inspired temple workers.
As we learn in the temple, we might receive an increased understanding of ordinances and covenants, a deepened testimony, promptings, feelings of comfort, and more. Heavenly Father wants us to have personal learning experiences in the temple and to be open to the many ways we can receive knowledge in His house.
I still have so much to learn about temple ordinances and the power that comes from keeping my covenants. But I’m so grateful that I can continue to keep learning throughout my life.
As we prioritize our time in the temple and set aside moments to reflect on our covenants, we will open the door to knowledge that can help us stay on the path to Christ. That has been true for me as I have returned again and again to learn in the Lord’s way in His holy house.