Gospel Story Finder

Your Church leaders are ever ready to help you in your preparation, as are your parents. One young man’s parents encouraged him to choose carefully the music he listened to. He and his family listened to a talk by Elder Boyd K. Packer on choosing good music. He went to his room, sorted through his records, took a pile to the trash can and broke and discarded them. Following the principle of obedience helped prepare this young man to serve an honorable mission.

Just off the road on the far end of the island of Tubuai, Ronny Harevaa and his wife, Sandrine, tidy up the ground around a small stone monument. It is dedicated to the memory of Elder Addison Pratt, the first Latter-day Saint missionary to visit this island 450 miles (700 km) south of Tahiti. Addison Pratt grew up in New Hampshire in the United States of America, but at age 19 he became a seafarer. He traveled to what are now the Hawaiian Islands, then sailed the Pacific, Atlantic, Caribbean, and Mediterranean before marrying and settling in New York. In 1838 he and his wife joined the Church. By 1841 they had gathered with the Saints in Nauvoo, Illinois. In May 1843 Addison Pratt was called by the Prophet Joseph Smith to help begin missionary work in the Pacific. On April 30, 1844, he and two other elders, Noah Rogers and Benjamin Grouard, arrived on Tubuai.
The islanders were eager to have a missionary among them, and Elder Pratt remained. He began learning Tahitian and preaching. The first convert was his interpreter, another American. Six of seven sailors on the island were also baptized and confirmed. Then on July 22, 1844—three years before Latter-day Saint pioneers arrived in Utah—the first Polynesian converts were baptized. By February 1845, 60 of the 200 inhabitants of Tubuai had joined the Church. From these beginnings and from the work of Elder Rogers and Elder Grouard on other islands, the Church spread throughout what is now French Polynesia.

The current racial tension in America has brought me a lot of heartache and anxiety. My emotions have been all over the place as I’ve gone through some recent painful experiences of my own.
I’ve overheard colleagues and other people around me describing Black people in a negative way; making harsh, generalized judgments; and expressing preconceived notions about Black people more than I ever have before. Whenever I overheard conversations like these, I was usually the only Black person around. It can be scary to speak up in such situations.
One day, two young men yelled a racial slur at me as they drove past me in a car—an experience that left me shocked and hurt.
Talking about it has been difficult because so many people around me don’t understand how big of a problem and how common racism really is, and how hurtful it is to those who experience it. And as the only Black person in my ward and neighborhood, I started feeling isolated and misunderstood.
I started avoiding people out of fear.
I started wondering if I really belonged anywhere.
These painful feelings settled in my heart for a while, but everything changed when I heard a recent Brigham Young University devotional by President Dallin H. Oaks, First Counselor in the First Presidency. I felt his sincere love and concern for me as he said: “My brothers and sisters of the rising generation of the restored Church of Jesus Christ, I love you. I want to help you. … I must try to help you through teaching correct principles and trying to help you follow them.”1
I did not realize just how much I needed to hear President Oaks’s address, “Racism and Other Challenges,” until I did.
“Of course Black lives matter!” he said. “That is an eternal truth all reasonable people should support.”2
Those words meant everything to me. I felt a weight lift off my shoulders when I felt the Spirit confirm the eternal truth that God loves me regardless of my skin.
I’m an immigrant from the beautiful African country of Zambia. I’ve lived in America for 14 years. I married my white husband, and we have three beautiful half-Black, half-white children. Being a mother to them and being a Black woman myself, I found so much peace, comfort, and reassurance in President Oaks’s message that I am in the right place and that I truly do belong, especially in the gospel of Jesus Christ.
I forwarded the devotional to several of my Black friends who were also struggling like I was. They too loved this message because each of us has experienced racism in one form or another, ranging from hurtful name-calling to physical danger.
We all felt an enormous amount of joy, because the Lord’s prophets were speaking out against racism and reminding us of Heavenly Father’s love for each of us.

It was the day of my first race and I had come early to register and stretch out. I planned to run the 5K alone because I wasn’t very fast.
Then I saw the first counselor in the bishopric of my college ward, an experienced runner, among the gathering crowd. Just as he recognized me, the officials called all runners to the starting line. He asked if I was running with anyone. I said I wasn’t and admitted that, although I had been training for two months, all I hoped for was to finish the race. He offered to run with me and I accepted. I was delighted to have some company.
The gun sounded and we started off slowly. He was by my side the entire time. We talked about future races, the upcoming term in school, and his past races. He told me how he had used the “Boy Scout pace” to finish his first few races. He would run 50 steps, then walk 25 steps, until he could run the entire distance. It sounded strange to me, but since he was a much more experienced runner, I agreed as I got tired to finish the race this way.
As we rounded the final corner it was obvious that we were the last two runners. I sprinted to the finish line. But my running companion must have sensed my fear of being the last runner because he stayed behind. When we met after the race, he smiled and congratulated me on a good run.
I was touched that he was willing to take last place, so I wouldn’t have to. My ward leader taught me a lot about humility, service, and the pure love of Christ during that short race. Moroni’s words now have greater meaning for me when I read, “And charity suffereth long, and is kind, and envieth not, and is not puffed up, seeketh not her own. … Wherefore … if ye have not charity, ye are nothing, for charity never faileth” (Moro. 7:45–46).

Lockdown during COVID-19 was challenging for our family, as I am sure it was for many of you. The circumstances of the lockdown caused a latent health challenge to surface in one of our family members. Because of the pandemic, it was exceedingly difficult to find and schedule an appointment with the very specialized type of medical professional that this family member needed. After praying about how to address this challenge, my wife was inspired to search for a specialist online. We were guided to the perfect specialist who was located in Mexico.

Due to COVID, doctors had begun meeting with patients virtually, which made it possible for this family member to get very specific help from a medical professional thousands of miles away. Lockdown was still challenging and there are certain card games my family is not allowed to play anymore, but despite the challenges, God still showed us His mercies.

I will never forget an experience in Cali, Colombia. After a long evening of meetings, the presiding officer asked the congregation to remain seated while we departed. But upon the final “amen,” several dozen priesthood leaders jumped to their feet and formed two lines, creating a pathway from the chapel to a waiting van outside. As we walked through this sheltered passageway, where priesthood leaders symbolized priesthood power, I was deeply moved by the metaphor. It is the power of the priesthood that marks, clears, and protects the path leading to eternal life. Priesthood power safeguards us from the world, binds heaven and earth, subdues the adversary, blesses and heals, and enables us to triumph over mortality. Every ordinance of the Melchizedek Priesthood helps prepare us to live in the presence of God.

I have a son who is a very deep sleeper. When he was little, he would talk in his sleep. His brothers and sister loved having conversations with him while he was asleep and even recorded some of them to prove to him that they really happened. He would also walk in his sleep, which was rather frightening and very dangerous. In the middle of one winter night our next-door neighbors heard a child crying outside. They looked out and saw our little boy lying in the street in freezing weather in his pajamas. They picked him up and brought him into our house and put him in the nearest empty bed. When they called and told us about it the next day, we were horrified, as well as exceedingly grateful since they had clearly saved his life. As he grew into his teenage years, it became increasingly difficult to get him up in the mornings. We would call and coax, play loud music, jump on his bed, and bribe with wonderful-smelling breakfasts. When he left on his mission he took three alarm clocks with him and wrote to us that he had instructed his companions to set the alarm clocks and then hide them from him each night so he would be able to wake up the next morning.

Three summers ago, I watched a new bride and groom, Tracy and Tom, emerge from a sacred temple. They laughed and held hands as family and friends gathered to take pictures. I saw happiness and promise in their faces as they greeted their reception guests, who celebrated publicly the creation of a new family. I wondered that night how long it would be until these two faced the opposition that tests every marriage. Only then would they discover whether their marriage was based on a contract or a covenant.
Before their marriage, Tom and Tracy received an eternal perspective on covenants and wolves. They learned through the story of Adam and Eve about life’s purpose and how to return to God’s presence through obedience and the Atonement. Christ’s life is the story of giving the Atonement. The life of Adam and Eve is the story of receiving the Atonement, which empowered them to overcome their separation from God and all opposition until they were eternally “at one” with the Lord and with each other.
Still, the ground was cursed for their sake: their path of affliction also led to the joy of both redemption and comprehension. That is why the husband and wife in a covenant marriage sustain and lift each other when the wolf comes. If Tom and Tracy had understood all this, perhaps they would have walked more slowly from the gardenlike temple grounds, like Adam and Eve, arm in arm, into a harsh and lonely world.
Now I return to Tom and Tracy, who this year discovered wellsprings of their own. Their second baby threatened to come too early to live. They might have made a hireling’s convenient choice and gone on with their lives, letting a miscarriage occur. But because they tried to observe their covenants by sacrifice, active, energetic Tracy lay almost motionless at home for five weeks, then in a hospital bed for another five. Tom was with her virtually every hour when he was not working or sleeping. They prayed their child to earth. Then the baby required 11 more weeks in the hospital. But she is here, and she is theirs.
One night as Tracy waited patiently upon the Lord in the hospital, she sensed that perhaps her willingness to sacrifice herself for her baby was in some small way like the Good Shepherd’s sacrifice for her. She said, “I had expected that trying to give so much would be really difficult, but somehow this felt more like a privilege.” As many other parents in Zion have done, she and Tom gave their hearts to God by giving them to their child. In the process, they learned that theirs is a covenant marriage, one that binds them to each other and to the Lord.

We need both Church activities and family activities. If all families were complete and perfect, the Church could sponsor fewer activities. But in a world where many of our youth grow up in homes where one parent is missing, not a member, or otherwise inactive in gospel leadership, there is a special need for Church activities to fill in the gaps. Our widowed mother wisely saw that Church activities would provide her sons with experiences she could not provide because we had no male role model in the home. I remember her urging me to watch and try to be like the good men in our ward. She pushed me to participate in Scouting and other Church activities that would provide this opportunity.
In a church where there are many single members, who do not presently have the companionship the Lord intends for all of His sons and daughters, the Church and its families should also have special concern for the needs of single adults.
Priesthood authority functions in both the family and the Church. The priesthood is the power of God used to bless all of His children, male and female. Some of our abbreviated expressions, like “the women and the priesthood,” convey an erroneous idea. Men are not “the priesthood.” Priesthood meeting is a meeting of those who hold and exercise the priesthood. The blessings of the priesthood, such as baptism, receiving the Holy Ghost, the temple endowment, and eternal marriage, are available to men and women alike. The authority of the priesthood functions in the family and in the Church according to the principles the Lord has established.
When my father died, my mother presided over our family. She had no priesthood office, but as the surviving parent in her marriage she had become the governing officer in her family. At the same time, she was always totally respectful of the priesthood authority of our bishop and other Church leaders. She presided over her family, but they presided over the Church.
There are many similarities and some differences in the way priesthood authority functions in the family and in the Church. If we fail to recognize and honor the differences, we encounter difficulties.
Keys. One important difference between its function in the Church and in the family is the fact that all priesthood authority in the Church functions under the direction of the one who holds the appropriate priesthood keys. In contrast, the authority that presides in the family—whether father or single-parent mother—functions in family matters without the need to get authorization from anyone holding priesthood keys. This family authority includes directing the activities of the family, family meetings like family home evenings, family prayer, teaching the gospel, and counseling and disciplining family members. It also includes ordained fathers giving priesthood blessings.
However, priesthood keys are necessary to authorize the ordaining or setting apart of family members. This is because the organization the Lord has made responsible for the performance and recording of priesthood ordinances is the Church, not the family.
Boundaries. Church organizations like wards, quorums, or auxiliaries always have geographic boundaries that limit the responsibility and authority of the callings associated with them. In contrast, family relationships and responsibilities are not dependent upon where different family members reside.
Duration. Church callings are always temporary, but family relationships are permanent.
Call and release. Another contrast concerns the initiation and termination of positions. In the Church, a priesthood leader who holds the necessary keys has the authority to call or release persons serving under his direction. He can even cause that they lose their membership and have their names “blotted out” (see Mosiah 26:34–38; Alma 5:56–62). In contrast, family relationships are so important that the head of the family lacks the authority to make changes in family membership. That can only be done by someone authorized to adjust family relationships under the laws of man or the laws of God. Thus, while a bishop can release a Relief Society president, he cannot sever his relationship with his wife without a divorce under the laws of man. Again, his sealing for eternity cannot be ended without a cancellation procedure under the laws of God. Similarly, a youth serving in a class or quorum presidency can be released by priesthood authority in the ward, but parents cannot divorce a child whose life choices are offensive to them. Family relationships are more enduring than Church relationships.
Partnership. A most important difference in the functioning of priesthood authority in the family and in the Church results from the fact that the government of the family is patriarchal, whereas the government of the Church is hierarchical. The concept of partnership functions differently in the family than in the Church.
The family proclamation gives this beautiful explanation of the relationship between a husband and a wife: While they have separate responsibilities, “in these sacred responsibilities, fathers and mothers are obligated to help one another as equal partners” (“The Family: A Proclamation to the World,” Liahona, Oct. 2004, 49; Ensign, Nov. 1995, 102; emphasis added).
President Spencer W. Kimball said this: “When we speak of marriage as a partnership, let us speak of marriage as a full partnership. We do not want our LDS women to be silent partners or limited partners in that eternal assignment! Please be a contributing and full partner” (The Teachings of Spencer W. Kimball, ed. Edward L. Kimball [1982], 315).
President Kimball also declared, “We have heard of men who have said to their wives, ‘I hold the priesthood and you’ve got to do what I say.’” He decisively rejected that abuse of priesthood authority in a marriage, declaring that such a man “should not be honored in his priesthood” (The Teachings of Spencer W. Kimball, 316).
There are cultures or traditions in some parts of the world that allow men to oppress women, but those abuses must not be carried into the families of the Church of Jesus Christ. Remember how Jesus taught: “Ye have heard that it was said by them of old time, … but I say unto you …” (Matthew 5:27–28). For example, the Savior contradicted the prevailing culture in His considerate treatment of women. Our guide must be the gospel culture He taught.
If men desire the Lord’s blessings in their family leadership, they must exercise their priesthood authority according to the Lord’s principles for its use:
“No power or influence can or ought to be maintained by virtue of the priesthood, only by persuasion, by long-suffering, by gentleness and meekness, and by love unfeigned; by kindness, and pure knowledge” (D&C 121:41–42).
When priesthood authority is exercised in that way in the patriarchal family, we achieve the “full partnership” President Kimball taught. As declared in the family proclamation:
“Happiness in family life is most likely to be achieved when founded upon the teachings of the Lord Jesus Christ. Successful marriages and families are established and maintained on principles of faith, prayer, repentance, forgiveness, respect, love, [and] compassion” (Liahona, Oct. 2004, 49; Ensign, Nov. 1995, 102).
Church callings are performed according to the principles that govern all of us in working under priesthood authority in the Church. These principles include the persuasion and gentleness taught in the 121st section, which are especially necessary in the hierarchal organization of the Church.
The principles I have identified for the exercise of priesthood authority are more understandable and more comfortable for a married woman than for a single woman, especially a single woman who has never been married. She does not now experience priesthood authority in the partnership relationship of marriage. Her experiences with priesthood authority are in the hierarchical relationships of the Church, and some single women feel they have no voice in those relationships. It is, therefore, imperative to have an effective ward council, where male and female ward officers sit down together regularly to counsel under the presiding authority of the bishop.
I conclude with some general comments and a personal experience.
The theology of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints centers on the family. Our relationship to God and the purpose of earth life are explained in terms of the family. We are the spirit children of heavenly parents. The gospel plan is implemented through earthly families, and our highest aspiration is to perpetuate those family relationships throughout eternity. The ultimate mission of our Savior’s Church is to help us achieve exaltation in the celestial kingdom, and that can only be accomplished in a family relationship.
No wonder our Church is known as a family-centered church. No wonder we are distressed at the current legal and cultural deteriorations in the position of marriage and childbearing. At a time when the world seems to be losing its understanding of the purpose of marriage and the value of childbearing, it is vital that Latter-day Saints have no confusion about these matters.
The faithful widowed mother who raised us had no confusion about the eternal nature of the family. She always honored the position of our deceased father. She made him a presence in our home. She spoke of the eternal duration of their temple marriage. She often reminded us of what our father would like us to do so we could realize the Savior’s promise that we could be a family forever.
I recall an experience that shows the effect of her teachings. Just before Christmas one year, our bishop asked me, as a deacon, to help him deliver Christmas baskets to the widows of the ward. I carried a basket to each door with his greetings. When he drove me home, there was one basket remaining. He handed it to me and said it was for my mother. As he drove away, I stood in the falling snow wondering why there was a basket for my mother. She never referred to herself as a widow, and it had never occurred to me that she was. To a 12-year-old boy, she wasn’t a widow. She had a husband, and we had a father. He was just away for a while.
I anticipate that glorious future day when the separated will be reunited and all of us will be made complete as the Lord has promised. I testify of Jesus Christ, the Only Begotten Son of the Eternal Father, whose priesthood authority and whose Atonement and Resurrection make it all possible, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Around then, the COVID-19 pandemic forced New Zealand into a lockdown, and all Church gatherings were suspended. “No one knew how long we would be required to shelter in place,” says Adele, “but the temple groundbreaking ceremony had to go on.” She needed to come up with an alternative for a live choir.
Adele researched the possibility of a virtual choir. “I put the idea to some professionals and was told that this kind of project would cost thousands of dollars and hundreds of hours.” It was disappointing news, which normally would have discouraged Adele, but this time was different. This time, “it wasn’t just anyone we were preparing for,” she said, “It was the Lord.” She persevered and reached out to a young filmmaker and musician in her stake: Brother Anthony Butters.
“What I loved about Anthony is that it didn’t occur to him that [something] couldn’t or shouldn’t be done.” Even though Anthony himself was not sure how to make a virtual choir happen, the challenge “piqued his interest,” Adele says. “He was willing to give it a go.”
They immediately got to work.
They knew that choir practices would be impossible during the lockdown, so they recorded the instrumentals and each vocal part of Adele’s musical arrangement for singers to learn at home. Then they put out a general call seeking members for their virtual choir.
Next, they had to somehow make sure—without the luxury of rehearsals—that all the singers learned their parts correctly. They also had to figure out how to record each singer’s vocal contribution, how to edit dozens of vocal recordings together so they sounded like one choir, and how to produce a performance video that could be broadcast on the day of the temple groundbreaking ceremony.
For Adele and Anthony, it was very much a matter of being “led by the Spirit, not knowing beforehand the things which [they] should do”1. But they pored over Google and YouTube tutorials, and courageously worked through all the obstacles that arose along the way.
The experience was difficult for the choir, too. To leave enough time for editing, the singers had only three weeks to learn the music, and then each had to make both an audio and a video recording. The challenge proved too much for some. Singing on your own is quite different from singing in a choir, and after hearing themselves recorded alone, Adele says, “I had a few messages asking if they could humbly bow out because they felt their voices weren’t good enough.” Other singers were okay with the vocal recording, but not so happy to be filmed, and several more were not comfortable at all using the technology required.
Those who persevered managed to send their audio recordings to Adele, whose next job was to begin editing them together. This required a quiet space in her house, so she had to convert a walk-in closet into a makeshift recording studio. Then, her computer and software broke down. In the middle of a nationwide lockdown, Adele couldn’t just go out and purchase new equipment.
“I became overwhelmed with the feeling that I wouldn’t be able to get my part of the job done on time,” Adele says. “I asked my husband for a priesthood blessing.”
A couple of hours later, she received an unexpected phone call from a friend in Hawaii. Adele told her friend about the difficulties she was having with the virtual choir, and he said, “I can help you.”
“I went silent, hoping I heard properly,” Adele says, “because I thought for sure he was too busy to do what would be a very tedious and time-consuming job. But he actually got excited about the challenge.”
This friend—Milton Kaka—called back the next day to announce that his boss at the Polynesian Cultural Centre, which was also in lockdown, was allowing him two weeks to work on this special project with Adele. Filled with gratitude, Adele sent a thank you message to Milton’s boss, who replied that this was the Polynesian Cultural Centre’s contribution “for our M?ori cuzzies.”
Milton joined forces with Adele and Anthony, and the audio and video recordings were finally stitched together—in enough time, even, to fix one final glitch: a singer’s footage that was missing.
Once that was sorted, the virtual choir performance video was ready to release for the temple groundbreaking celebration.

Recently, I went through something really hard. My father and mother are separated, and my mother works abroad. I grew up with my grandmother—she’s the one who introduced me to the gospel and the Church. But this year, she passed away unexpectedly.
She was the last person I ever thought would die. Sometimes I thought I would die before her because she was so healthy! She never showed weakness and was always strong in front of me. I never imagined my life without her.
After she passed away, I sometimes wished I could die too. I had thoughts about ending my own life. But soon I went to a stake youth activity where we had a lesson about the plan of salvation.
I knew about the plan of salvation, but maybe my understanding of it was a bit clouded because of what happened to my grandmother. As I listened, I thought, “I’ve forgotten the blessings of the sacrifice of Jesus Christ for me.”
I realized that Jesus Christ died to save me. I shouldn’t end my life because of troubles I am having. The plan of happiness gives me hope that I can see my grandmother again someday, because life doesn’t end when we die. I need to keep following the Savior so I can see her again.
Understanding the plan of salvation, especially the Savior’s Atonement, helped me overcome my thoughts of suicide. It helps me feel peace in living. It gives me hope that I can meet my grandmother on the other side of the veil again someday.

Twenty years ago in general conference, I related a story first told by Elder Vaughn J. Featherstone of the Seventy that I believe bears repeating here.
In 1918 Brother George Goates was a farmer who raised sugar beets in Lehi, Utah. Winter came early that year and froze much of his beet crop in the ground. For George and his young son Francis, the harvest was slow and difficult. Meanwhile, an influenza epidemic was raging. The dreaded disease claimed the lives of George’s son Charles and three of Charles’s small children—two little girls and a boy. In the course of only six days, a grieving George Goates made three separate trips to Ogden, Utah, to bring the bodies home for burial. At the end of this terrible interlude, George and Francis hitched up their wagon and headed back to the beet field.
“[On the way] they passed wagon after wagon-load of beets being hauled to the factory and driven by neighborhood farmers. As they passed by, each driver would wave a greeting: ‘Hi ya, Uncle George,’ ‘Sure sorry, George,’ ‘Tough break, George,’ ‘You’ve got a lot of friends, George.’
“On the last wagon was … freckled-faced Jasper Rolfe. He waved a cheery greeting and called out: ‘That’s all of ’em, Uncle George.’
“[Brother Goates] turned to Francis and said: ‘I wish it was all of ours.’
“When they arrived at the farm gate, Francis jumped down off the big red beet wagon and opened the gate as [his father] drove onto the field. [George] pulled up, stopped the team, … and scanned the field. … There wasn’t a sugar beet on the whole field. Then it dawned upon him what Jasper Rolfe meant when he called out: ‘That’s all of ’em, Uncle George!’
“[George] got down off the wagon, picked up a handful of the rich, brown soil he loved so much, and then … a beet top, and he looked for a moment at these symbols of his labor, as if he couldn’t believe his eyes.
“Then [he] sat down on a pile of beet tops—this man who brought four of his loved ones home for burial in the course of only six days; made caskets, dug graves, and even helped with the burial clothing—this amazing man who never faltered, nor flinched, nor wavered throughout this agonizing ordeal—sat down on a pile of beet tops and sobbed like a little child.
“Then he arose, wiped his eyes, … looked up at the sky, and said: ‘Thanks, Father, for the elders of our ward.’”

I remember a luncheon with a man and his large family. He had in his early years promised the Lord that any surplus would go to the kingdom of God. Now the married children gathered as the father and the mother gave away what in any other family might have been seen as the very large and rightful inheritance of the children. I remember that luncheon every time I am tempted to say, “Well, we can always pay it out of the endowment,” as if somehow those funds were less precious and less the Lord’s.

In 1988, my family relocated to Perth Australia—I had a new job opportunity. The Sydney temple was then 4000 km from our home. We made a family commitment to drive to the Sydney temple every two years. Once there, we would spend a whole week participating in temple ordinances. Our children still have fond memories of the mostly sacred time we had together driving three and a half days each way across Australia.

I invited a friend to play at my house one day. When her dad came to pick her up, he said that they were from Hermosillo, Mexico. My mom told him, “My brother went on a mission there.” He asked, “Are you Mormon?” When she answered yes, he said, “We are Mormon too.” We invited them to church, but they didn’t come at first. We kept inviting them and visiting them until at last they came. My friend went to class with me. Finally the family became members of our ward, and my friend attends my Primary class. The best part was that I got to see her get baptized a year ago. I felt very happy for her. I like being a missionary and helping my neighbors.

During one particularly difficult time when Josh was to return to Salt Lake City for chemotherapy, we needed help with our other four children. My Mom was scheduled to come up from Nevada to help, but she came down with a kidney stone at the last minute.

I remember that in our desperate circumstance, gathering the family together, kneeling in a circle, and petitioning the Lord in family prayer to help us. No sooner had we got off our knees than the phone rang, and a sister in a neighboring ward felt impressed to call and ask how she could help. My wife told her of our plight, and she said, "Done. I'll take care of it. Don't even worry about this week." And she took care of the children for the entire week! We couldn't have done it without her timely help. Later on, ward members called and asked if we would be okay with a special fast for our son. After wrestling with that decision some, we finally said "yes." It was one of the best decisions we ever made, as the primary children began to pray for us. If you ever need great faith and extra blessings, get the primary children involved in praying for you.

After returning from two years of missionary service in Bolivia, I began to look for ways to reduce the time it would require me to get through my education to become a physician. I was directed to a program sponsored by Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore, Maryland. This very prestigious school accepted 25 students a year from undergraduate schools across the country to be part of a five-year program that resulted in a Bachelor of Science, plus an MD degree. I was just starting my sophomore year of college, so admittance to this special program, though expensive, would save me a full year of schooling. Instead of two more years at BYU, followed by four years of medical school, I could achieve my degree in five years-time. It sounded fantastic. I committed to do what it would take to be considered.

My sophomore year at BYU was hard! I needed to take all of my prerequisite science classes at once! That made for a heavy load. It would also mean taking my medical school admission test (the MCAT) at the end of my sophomore year, competing with recent college graduates and grad students. But the determination was there, and I had the support of my new bride, Ann.

The school year finished. My grades were excellent and my MCAT scores were near the very highest percentile. With all the requirements met, I submitted my application. A few weeks later, I received a letter saying that I was one of 60 finalists that had been chosen from around the country. They desired that I come back to Baltimore for an interview. I made the trip back East, and, after meeting the other finalists, felt that my chances were quite good. I was older, married, had been out in the real world doing service work, spoke another language, and so forth. I was excited.

The morning of the interview came. I sat in front of half a dozen physicians and professors. Rather than ask about my experiences, one of the professors zeroed in on the fact that I had been a missionary. The spirit in the room grew heavy and dark as this gentleman begin asking negative questions and making accusations against me. “What makes you feel you have the right to go to another country and culture and push your beliefs on them? Who are you to decide what is best for another?” I felt like I was on trial. About all I could do was to bear my testimony and crawl back to Provo. I was certainly qualified but did not get an invitation to join the elite class of 25. I was disappointed and a little angry. It didn’t seem fair. My plans had not worked out. I felt I had been disqualified because of my faith.

Luckily, I have a great companion. She was able to console and brighten my outlook. After a while, I decided that rather than be bitter, I would look for a silver lining. I had a fabulous third year at BYU, taking whatever class I wanted because all of my medical school prerequisites were done. I decided to go ahead and apply to medical school as a junior, and was pleasantly surprised when the requests for interviews began to pour in. Then the acceptance letters began to appear! I ended up selecting an acceptance from the University of California, San Francisco medical school at the end of my junior year. Being a California resident, going to this medical school meant that I would not be up to my eyeballs in debt upon graduation, like I would have been at Johns Hopkins. As it turned out, I graduated with my MD degree at the very same time as the class I had so desired to be in graduated back East! UCSF was arguably a better school and closer to home. Ann and I made lifelong friends there. Because we had gone to school in San Francisco, I had substantial freedom in choosing where to go after my medical residency, not being in any significant debt. This opened up the opportunity for us to go overseas, something that would have been much less likely had I attended Johns Hopkins. Our overseas experiences, including the adoption of three children, blessed our lives in incalculable fashion. Looking back, seeing through my eyes more clearly, I would not change a thing. The lives we stepped into were better than anything we had planned or could have imagined.

Obviously, my vision pales in comparison to His! How fortunate that I didn’t get my way.

Annemarie and I met the summer before high school. We were the only freshmen on the varsity soccer team and had to stick together. It seemed we had nearly everything in common, until we attended our first end-of-the-season team party. It was the night after we became state champions.
“You’re not going to have a beer?” she questioned skeptically, snapping open the can of beer offered her. “Coach left already. You’re not going to get caught.”
“I know,” I replied. “That doesn’t matter. I don’t drink.” There was an uncomfortable pause as I awaited her reaction. Slowly, Annemarie put the can back on the counter as she watched me searchingly.
“Are you serious? Not even one to celebrate?”
I shook my head.
“Okay,” she conceded, “then I won’t drink tonight either. In fact, let’s leave.”
That night the two of us started a tradition of leaving team parties with the coach. Sometimes we went out for shakes instead, and often other team members joined us. But usually it was just Annemarie and me.

Seth squirmed in his chair. He could hardly wait to hear what Grandma and Grandpa had to say. When everyone was quiet, Grandpa began. “For a long time, Grandma and I have prayed about serving a mission. We want to do what the prophet has asked, so we turned in our mission papers. The Lord has called us to serve a mission in Puerto Rico.”
Everyone was happy and excited for Grandma and Grandpa. Everyone except Seth. He felt sad and lonely. “It’s almost like everyone wants them to go away,” Seth thought. He went to his room, curled up on his bed, and cried.
Mom found him there. “Seth, what’s wrong?”
“I can’t believe that Grandma and Grandpa are leaving us. What about when my new baby sister is born? She won’t know who they are. And what about me? Don’t they care about me?”
“Seth, Grandma and Grandpa love you very much,” Mom said. “That’s one of the reasons they’re going to serve—to set a good example for you and for all of us.”
Seth didn’t understand. He had never felt more miserable.
The next morning, Grandma’s soft voice woke Seth up. “I thought maybe you and I could have breakfast together,” she said.
Seth sprang out of bed. Maybe Grandma and Grandpa had changed their minds!
After Grandma and Seth finished their waffles, she told him a story. “When Grandpa and I started thinking about going on a mission, I was concerned about you. I prayed that Heavenly Father would help you to understand our feelings. Then at general conference, Elder Robert D. Hales said if we serve a mission, our families will be blessed.
“Grandpa and I want those blessings for you, Seth. We also want to show you that it’s important to follow the prophet. We want you to share this special time with us and be happy.”
Seth knew that Grandma was right. “I am happy for you, Grandma. I just didn’t know that following the prophet meant I’d lose you.”
“You will never lose me, Seth,” Grandma said. “We are an eternal family. But we are asking you to share us with people in Puerto Rico who need us. The time will pass quickly. We’ll write letters and send you stamps for your collection. And when we get back, I’ll be an even better grandma!”
On Sunday, Seth’s Primary sang “Follow the Prophet.” It seemed like a whole new song to Seth. Now he knew that sharing Grandma and Grandpa was one way he could follow the prophet too.

I get scared very easily. To make matters worse, I have an overactive imagination, and it doesn’t take much to make me tense and nervous.
I remember a time when I had a hard time falling asleep at night because I was afraid. I would lie awake thinking about all the bad things that might happen: fires, car accidents, burglaries. Most of the things I worried about were things I had absolutely no control over.
One autumn evening, I found myself home alone. It was a dark, windy night, and my imagination was running wild. I tried watching television, but I couldn’t concentrate on the show. Then I tried calling a few of my friends, but none of them were home.
Finally I realized I needed some help to calm down, so I went to my bedroom and got my scriptures. Before I began reading, I knelt down and prayed to Heavenly Father that He would help me get my mind off my fears and that I would be able to concentrate on the scriptures. After my prayer, I crawled into bed and opened my scriptures to the Doctrine and Covenants. I had been reading for only a few minutes when one of the verses suddenly caught my attention: “Wherefore, be of good cheer, and do not fear, for I the Lord am with you, and will stand by you” (D&C 68:6).
Immediately, I felt a calmness come over me as the realization came to me that, although I could not control the things that were troubling me, my Heavenly Father could. Now whenever I start to feel afraid, I recall the words to that scripture, and I always feel better. I find it comforting to know that the Lord loves me, understands my feelings, and will always be there for me when I need Him.