Gospel Story Finder

Evan and I created a great “hut” down in the rocks and sand of Ash Creek. That was a small tributary to the Virgin River in southern Utah. It was the perfect place for catching little blue-bellied racing lizards. When it came to catching those, Evan and I had no peers. That was one thing we could do better than even my two older brothers.
I did not know until we were about ten years old that Evan had been born with a heart defect. He had asthma and often coughed and wheezed from that, but it did not interfere with our play. One reason I did not know that his health problems were serious was that he never once complained.
All along, his parents had been waiting for him to reach an age when he was strong enough to survive surgery. Finally, the doctors felt that they could wait no longer, so off to Salt Lake went Evan and his parents.
He wrote to me saying that he had taken an advance tour of the hospital to see everything, including the operating and recovery rooms. The doctors wanted him to see them in detail, so that when he awoke, he would not be frightened. To me, it seemed that he took that all in stride.
Several days later Evan underwent eight or ten hours of major surgery. Unbelievably to me, he died on the operating table.
I was crushed. I had prayed faithfully and fervently that he would survive. I thought my prayers had gone unanswered. Brokenhearted, I went back to our river hut one last time after the funeral. I stayed only long enough to push some of the rocks aside and destroy the fort that we had built. I guess I thought if I could destroy what represented Evan, I could destroy the horrible feelings of grief that I was experiencing.
Later I would learn that those feelings were normal. I loved Evan. I would miss him. That is a natural instinct, and there is nothing wrong with it.
I thought about Evan every day for a month or so. Then I began to get busy with other friends, and soon I was just thinking about him every now and then. After about ten years, I found that I would go months at a time and never think of the closeness that we had shared. I noticed, however, that when I started thinking about him, all of the good feelings that I had felt with him so many times would come rushing back into my mind and heart.

Junior is already preparing for his. He has asked his mother to teach him how to cook and do his laundry and talked with his father about finances. Junior sees only one problem with missionary service. “I want my own room.” Why go on a mission and risk having a roommate? “Because I don’t want to be selfish to people who don’t know about the gospel. It will make them happy, and I want all the world to be happy.”

A true story from the USA in 1844.
“Higher, Father!” Mary squealed.
Father laughed and gave the swing another big push. The swing was tied to a large tree that leaned out over the Mississippi River. Mary loved the breeze in her face and the tickle in her tummy as she swung out over the water and back.
“Me next!” Elizabeth said.
Mary hopped off the swing to let her sister have a turn.
Mary’s family lived in Nauvoo. Her parents had joined the Church a few years ago, and they sold all they had to move there to join the other Saints.
Nauvoo was a very busy place. New people arrived every day. Building a new city took hard work, and even the children helped. Helping made Mary feel grown up and important. Sometimes she helped by bringing Father his lunch while he worked on the new temple.
On Sunday, Mary put on her best dress and helped her brothers and sisters get ready for church. Everyone gathered under the trees to listen to the Prophet Joseph Smith teach about Jesus Christ. Mary liked to learn about how they could live with Heavenly Father again someday. The Prophet had seen and heard so many wonderful things.
Other people didn’t like the Prophet, though. Mary had heard stories about people who wanted to hurt him.
One summer night, Mary was helping Mother clean up after supper. Then Father came home. He had tears in his eyes.
“What happened?” Mother asked.
“The Prophet Joseph has been killed,” Father said.
Mother began to cry too. “How can the Church go on without him?” she asked.
Mary felt so sad and scared. She knew the Prophet was God’s chosen servant. How could Heavenly Father let this happen?
She started to cry and ran out of the house to the garden. After falling on her knees near some bushes, Mary started to pray. “Oh, Heavenly Father, what will we do? Our prophet has been killed.” Tears rolled down her face.
Then a gentle voice came to Mary’s mind. I will raise up another prophet to lead my people.
A peaceful, joyful feeling filled her heart. She wiped her eyes and ran back to the house as fast as she could.
“Mother! Father!” Mary said. “I said a prayer, and Heavenly Father answered me.” She told them about the voice and the peaceful feeling she felt.
As Mother and Father hugged her, Mary knew things would be all right. She was still sad, and she knew there would be hard times ahead. But Heavenly Father would continue to guide them and help them.

When the opportunity comes to plan an activity, those involved learn how to cooperate with others to make it a success. Taylor W. of Idaho says, “We planned a water-balloon volleyball game. We got big towels and balloons and tossed the balloons back and forth over a volleyball net with the towels. I felt good because I helped plan it and it went well. It also brought us closer as a quorum because we had to work together.”

Erin, from North Carolina, USA, and her family (left) have always had one goal in mind: to become an eternal family. However, Erin’s father was not a member of the Church.
“Of course my mom and siblings wanted my dad to share in the blessings of the gospel. The gospel of Jesus Christ made us happy, and we wanted Dad to share in that happiness. We also all desperately wanted to be sealed together as a family,” Erin says.
Determined to become a forever family, Erin and her siblings and mother did all they could to keep the commandments and develop strong faith, and they prayed together for their father’s heart to be touched by the gospel.
Though it took several years, Erin’s father was finally baptized and confirmed. Ten days after his baptism, he was able to baptize Erin’s younger brother and sister. Soon their family will reach their goal of being sealed in the temple.

He’s a rather handsome young man, with blue eyes and a quick smile. Seated behind his keyboard, Ryan Moody fiddles for a moment with a few adjustments, then easily slides into the introduction of a song. The music sounds as good as anything you hear on the radio, but it’s new. He says, “This is a song I wrote.” Then he begins to sing. Just listening, the song takes you out of yourself. The sound is rich and full, but personal as well. After a moment you can’t resist taking a hard look at Ryan. The music introduces another part of Ryan. It seems to free his spirit from the chair his body must stay in. The music reveals something about him that your eye doesn’t always see.

Born with spina bifida, or a hole in his spine, Ryan has spent nearly his entire 18 years in a wheelchair. At first, doctors feared he might be mentally retarded, but Ryan was a sweet, lively child who has grown into an intelligent, talented young man, a young man with some special talents for music and for people.

Ryan doesn’t regard his chair as an impediment but as a help. “I get around a lot quicker this way.” He gives credit to his friends for helping him not feel any different. “My friends don’t let me think about it at all. They always forget that I’m in a wheelchair because they’ll go over tons of grass or something that is hard for me to get over, and they’ll say, ‘Come on, Ryan. Whoops, we forgot!’”

Ryan is a priest in the Tigard Oregon Second Ward. He serves as first assistant in his priests quorum and as a home teacher. He enjoys helping the bishop with the less-active members of the priests quorum and plays the organ for church. The bishop says, “Ryan seems to know how to bridge the gap between the groups in our ward.”

Ryan recently received his patriarchal blessing, which promised him in part that he would be able to influence the lives of youth wherever they may be and convince them of the blessings the Lord has in store for them and the opportunities that are theirs. Ryan’s greatest wish is to serve a mission, although his condition will not allow it. “I can’t believe that others with the opportunity to serve a mission will not go,” said Ryan. “It’s the thing I would like to do more than anything.”

Ryan started learning about music when he was two years old. His parents put a set of stereo headphones on him and, instead of yanking them off, he was fascinated. He started piano lessons at seven and had to be pushed into practicing like most people. As he learned to play, he and his mother discovered his talent. “I never did like the endings of pieces in books. I would just start making up new endings.” Several years later they discovered that Ryan had perfect pitch. Then he started writing music and performing on a variety of keyboard instruments. He has won numerous awards for his musical talent—composing, performing, and singing. He was voted the most talented in his ninth-grade class.

Once when Ryan was giving a talk at a grade school, one student asked him how it feels to be handicapped. Ryan answered by asking, “Well, how does it feel to be human?” What Ryan couldn’t say in that particular situation was that the Church has really helped him. “I think a lot of disabled people get caught up thinking, ‘I can’t do this, and my life is just going to be a waste.’ Isn’t it 1 Samuel 16:7 that says the Lord looks not on the outer appearance, but on the heart? [1 Sam. 16:7] That’s kind of important to me.”

Music has helped Ryan reach out to others and set a good example. He teaches keyboard and composition classes in a special summer school program. One friend was very discouraged and turned to Ryan for advice. He told her to go home and turn the radio to a classical station instead of the usual hard rock she was accustomed to listening to. “She followed my advice,” Ryan said. “The next day she thanked me and said she didn’t feel one bit discouraged.”

As Ryan was participating in a school quartet, he found that the song selected for the group to sing had lyrics he objected to. Ryan talked to the teacher about changing the words, but the teacher became angry. Ryan was hurt by the teacher’s reaction. After school, the teacher asked to speak to him and apologized for getting upset. “She said that what I had done took courage,” said Ryan. “She said she admired me for standing up for what I believed in and that she was willing to work with me because she really wanted me in the quartet.”

Just like most teenage boys, Ryan likes girls. And girls like him. His dad teases him about how much time he spends on the phone talking to young ladies, and his mother says that when he goes to stake dances, he dances every dance. He’s become quite creative at moving his chair in time to the music. “I’m still working on the slow dances,” he says.

About dating, Ryan says, “Sometimes it’s kind of tricky because girls seem to like me, but dating is a different situation. They don’t want to shy away, but they do because they don’t always know how to act. When we do go out, it is really neat because they just help me get in the van and we go.” Ryan as some advice for girls when a guy in a wheelchair asks for a date. “Ask yourself, ‘Is he a nice person?’ and then go from there. If he is and you really like him, then just forget about everything else.”

As a young woman, I came to downtown Salt Lake one wintery day. I had parked in front of the Church Administration Building and was just putting a nickel in the meter when I noticed a man leaving the building. He wore a dark overcoat and a wool hat. But he had something more: a spirit that stirred my soul. I could not take my eyes off him, and as he descended the steps, I suddenly realized he was President David O. McKay. He said nothing as he passed me; he merely smiled gently and tipped his hat. The Spirit literally filled my being. I knew I had seen a prophet of God.
Not everyone will have the opportunity to see a prophet face-to-face. Fortunately, that isn’t necessary. We can all receive the same witness I did on those steps long ago. More important than seeing a prophet is understanding the message he has for us. Applying that message is a sure way to gain a testimony of his holy calling.

Elder Marcus B. Nash of the Seventy, the President of the Africa West Area of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, along with his wife, Sister Shelley Nash, and other leaders made a courtesy visit to His Royal Majesty Otumfuo Osei Tutu II, Asantehene of the Empire of Asante. The Asantehene is highly revered in the Asante territories (Ashanti region and other parts of Ghana) and is regarded as the first among equals of traditional rulers in Ghana.
The meeting was held on 4 March 2020, at the Manhyia Palace in Kumasi, Ghana, in connection with Awukudae Festival meaning: “Wednesday ceremony”, a traditional Ashanti festival in Ashanti. Accompanying Elder and Sister Nash to the meeting were Honorable Francis Addai-Nimoh, a friend of the Church and former Member of Parliament of Asante Mampong; Emelia Ahadjie, Area Director of Communication; Edmund Adusei, Asokwa, Kumasi Stake president; Edmund Osei, Coordinating Council Director of Communication in Kumasi; Brent Belnap, Area Legal Counsel; Richard Dadzie, Area Family History Manager; along with Elder Lyle and Sister Cricket Parry, Area Communication Specialist Missionaries. There were also other dignitaries from organizations across Ghana in attendance, including the Bawku Naba Asigri Abugrago Azoka II, and the inspector general of police, and the chief defence commanders of the military, air force and navy.
Elder Nash said, “we believe all people are children of God, you are my brother and I am yours”. He also spoke of families, stating, “We believe a family is a husband who loves his wife, a wife who loves her husband, and together they love their children”. He explained the Church is here to lift and serve all people. Elder Nash thanked the Asantehene for allowing the freedom of religion in his region because we know how important that is.
Elder Nash also presented the Asantehene with a statue of a family from the Church. His Royal Majesty told Elder Nash and other church leaders he is looking forward to a future meeting.

If you’ve ever taken seminary, I’m sure you remember the case studies that are included in the lessons to help us liken the scriptures unto us. And if you remember them, then no doubt you remember the one concerning what you would do if your friends asked you to cheat on an important test or you would be tempted to cheat yourself. If you’re like me, it was all black and white, and you said you would do the noble thing, the right thing.
Probably like many of us, I never really thought of these situations as something that would ever happen. It was too easy. Who wouldn’t do the right thing? Well, just a week ago, I was faced with this problem. It was the week for nine-week exams. Being a senior, I knew these tests were important; not only do they decide who passes and graduates but they are also recorded on our transcripts, the same transcripts that are sent to colleges. The night before the two tests that were going to give me problems—Advanced Chemistry and Economics—a friend called on the phone. She told me that two classmates had stolen copies of both of the tests. She had copies and would give me some early the next morning. Because she was in a hurry, my friend didn’t give me a chance to answer, which was just as well since I didn’t know what to say.
What a dilemma! Even though I was considered the best student in my class, I knew those tests would be tough. Oh, I knew I would pass even if I failed the tests, but I wanted so badly to keep that prestigious 4.0 average. I also knew I was the only LDS student in my school. It had been a worthwhile struggle to let everyone know what Mormons really believe. In fact, whenever a new person questioned me about the Church in front of my friends, it was my friends who hastened to tell my beliefs before I could answer.
All evening I thought about my problem. I tried to concentrate on how important it was for me to do well on these tests, but a thought kept nagging at me. For four years I had taken seminary and answered those case studies of how I would react in a situation exactly like this. Was I going to betray my standards after telling my friends what being a Mormon was all about? Was I now going to be a hypocrite? I decided to resist the temptation. I prayed to my Heavenly Father to make me strong and able to stand by my convictions.
At school the next morning my friend tried to give me a copy of the tests. I refused. She looked at me like I was crazy but said nothing. Later I realized that my friends had expected me to answer the questions on the stolen copies and then let a student who worked in the office run them off on the school copier for the rest of the class. I would like to say that I was looked upon as a hero, but, as it was, some of my classmates were angry with me. My true friends didn’t hold it against me. The students who had stolen the tests had my friend answer the questions and passed copies around to everyone in the class except for me and the local preacher’s son, who had also refused to get involved. I thank him for standing with me. No one ever likes to be alone. I wish I could say that I passed my tests with flying colors, but I only made an 82 on my Advanced Chemistry test. Nevertheless, I am proud of that 82.
The grades are not important when I realize that I passed an even greater test, a test of character, thanks to the gospel and seminary.

Second: Feasting in the Scriptures
One of the greatest sources of spiritual nourishment for all of us is the scriptures. Here again the Lord counsels us to feast rather than hurriedly rush through some verses to satisfy the requirements of a religion class or merely to complete a goal, like finishing a marathon.
There is strength and renewal in the Lord’s words. President Spencer W. Kimball said:
I find that when I get casual in my relationships with divinity and when it seems that no divine ear is listening and no divine voice is speaking, that I am far, far away. If I immerse myself in the scriptures the distance narrows and the spirituality returns. [TSWK, p. 135]
President Kimball was talking about feasting and nourishment, as was President Ezra Taft Benson when he promised:
There is a power in the book [of Mormon] which will begin to flow into your lives the moment you begin a serious study of the book. You will find greater power to resist temptation. You will find the power to avoid deception. You will find the power to stay on the strait and narrow path. . . . When you begin to hunger and thirst after those words, you will find life in greater and greater abundance. ["The Book of Mormon—Keystone of Our Religion," Ensign,November 1986, p. 7]
I hope you have experienced the fulfillment of that promise, as one student who, after spending time on a reading assignment in the Book of Mormon, reported:
This week I have four tests and two papers, and I have been neglecting my spirituality. This section [of reading] uplifted me a lot at a time I really needed it. I still have the same amount of work to do, but I feel relaxed and at peace.
That principle was reinforced in our family when, over a number of years, my wife suffered serious health problems that left her completely exhausted. The only way she could find the strength to continue on each day was to drink from the scriptures for 30 minutes to an hour every morning. Because she was so exhausted, she doubted that she would remember very many details of what she had read, but regardless of what she could remember mentally, she felt strength come to her to sustain her physically and emotionally throughout the day.
But the nourishment of the scriptures also feeds our minds, because the Lord has promised that the Holy Ghost would bring all things to our remembrance that he has said unto us (see John 14:26). Continuing with the story about my wife, after a number of years her strength began to return, and she was called to teach Sunday School, a position in which she still serves. To her delight, she experienced a fulfillment of the Lord’s promise, as the Holy Ghost does indeed bring to her remembrance scriptures that she read during that very difficult time when she didn’t think that she would remember anything at all. But the promise is a two-edged sword, for if we never read his words in the first place, there is nothing for us to remember.

Another false philosophy that appeals to the Mr. Hyde side of our natures is that peeking into pornography is harmless. This is a terrible deception. Pornography is as addictive as cocaine or any illegal drug. I recently received a heartbreaking letter from an excommunicated man whose soul is filled with sorrow and regret. With his permission, I quote the following from his letter: “I hope that this letter will confirm to any who have doubt that the path of destruction only reaps sorrow and grief, and no sin is worth this price.”

He goes on to state: “I have brought grief and sorrow upon myself. Only now do I fully realize the great destruction that I have brought upon myself. No selfish or lustful desire is worth losing your Church membership for. I have brought terrible grief to my wife and two wonderful children. I am grateful for my wife’s great efforts to help me overcome my sins. My wife has been a victim of my sins and had to endure great sorrow and suffering. I long for the day that I can again be a member of the Lord’s Church and for our family to be an eternal family.”

The letter goes on to admit: “My sins are a direct result of my early childhood addiction to pornography. Without a doubt, pornography is addictive and is poison. Had I learned early in my life to apply the power of self-mastery, I would be a member of the Church today.”

When my wife and I were serving in the Europe East Area Presidency living in Moscow, Russia during the COVID-19 period, we had more time to ourselves than before. Not knowing what more could happen during this crazy time, we made sure we had some extra food in our home that would last us for several months. Part of this modest storage was chocolate, and especially these Merci boxes with small sticks of many different flavors. They were often on sale in the supermarket close to our home, so we stocked up!
At the end of each day, that usually would be filled with Zoom meetings, we would play a few games of Skip-Bo and eat some of the chocolate. We quickly learned that we needed to bridle our passions and restrict ourselves to just a few sticks of chocolate instead of eating the whole box.

In the afternoon, when I was at school, I was thinking about my answer when my best friend asked me, “What are you thinking about, Ismael?” I didn’t give him a truthful answer then, telling him that I was thinking about the beach and that I wanted to go see the sunrise in the morning. I invited him to go.
“I can’t,” he told me, smiling.
“Why not?” I asked him. “What are you doing so early in the morning?”
“Seminary,” he said.
“Seminary? What is seminary?” I asked him. He explained to me that it was classes that his church held.
“How long have you been going to a church?” I asked him, surprised.
“As long as I can remember. I’m a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.”
I told him I wanted to go and see. I knew inside that it was an answer to my long years of prayer.
The next day I woke up at 5:30 a.m. and went to seminary. The greatest surprise was that they were studying the Bible. I can say that I have never felt such a strong feeling of peace as I did when I entered the branch’s building in Matancita, the Dominican Republic, where pure doctrine was shared, delicious to a soul that had sought so anxiously. The hymns sung filled my mind and my heart with a thought: “This is the truth.”
“Wow,” I thought, “I want to feel this every day.” I asked when I could come back, and the teacher, my friend’s mother, gave me the class schedule and invited me to come to the branch’s Sunday services also.
From then on, every Monday through Friday, I got up at 5:30 to go to seminary and every Sunday to church. I couldn’t miss. I had found what I had always been looking for.
Sadly, there were no missionaries to teach me and baptize me. After a year and a half and much prayer, missionaries arrived and taught me all of the missionary lessons in a week. I remember the moment when I was submerged in the blue waters on my village’s beautiful beach.
I now enjoy the privilege of being not a stranger or foreigner (see Ephesians 2:19) but a brother of all those who have entered in the path of the Lord, the strait and narrow path.

“Come, Patrick,” the old shepherd called to the boy who was warming his hands by the roaring fire, “time to climb the hill for the night.”
The boy stood up and, wrapping the bearskin cloak around him, answered, “Coming, sir.” Obediently, he followed the old man away from the warmth of the fire into the cold blackness of the surrounding countryside.
“It’s been a hard winter,” the old man said to Patrick as they trudged up the steep hill, “but you’ve learned your job well, and you haven’t complained about the cold or the long nights. When it is time for me to report to our king, I will tell him what a good servant he has in you.”
“Thank you,” the boy replied, “but I like the sheep. Caring for them is not hard for me. As for the cold,” he shrugged his strong young shoulders, “one learns to live with it. No use complaining.”
They reached the top of the hill and approached the fire that the day shepherd had lit as soon as the sun had started to set.
“Ho, Finn!” the old man called.
“Ho, Ober!” came the answer from a man kneeling by the fire. “I am very glad you are here. I fear my old bones are nearly frozen.” He smiled up at Patrick. “Ho, lad. Mind this fire tonight. Don’t let it die down. Listen.”
Patrick strained his ears. Mixed with the low whistle of the icy wind came another sound that made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle.
“A-ooooooooo,” it sounded again from the distance, low and ghostly.
“Wolves,” Patrick whispered.
“Yes, boy,” old Finn agreed. “It’s been a hard winter for them too. One or two young sheep would make them a real banquet. Keep a sharp eye out.” He stood up and stretched. “I’m going down now. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Finn. We’ll see you at dawn,” Ober answered.
“You make the rounds to the west tonight, and I’ll make them to the east,” Ober instructed Patrick.
“Yes, sir.” Patrick picked up a pine stick and stuck it into the fire until the end blazed. Using it for a light, he set off into the inky darkness to check his master’s flock of sheep. He whistled his own little tune, so the sheep would know it was he who walked among them and not be frightened. Now and then he stopped to pat a woolly head.
It was on these dark, lonesome rounds that Patrick most missed his homeland and his family. It had been two years now since that night when he had been carried away by the strange and wild boatmen and transported to this harsh land. It had been two years of service to the king; two years of learning, growing, and longing to return to his home. But I must not let myself feel sad, he inwardly scolded.
Patrick finished checking the sheep and started back to the fire. “I must do my job while I look for a chance to get home again—somehow—someday,” he murmured.
Ober was sitting by the fire when Patrick returned.
“All’s well,” he said.
“It may be, lad, but keep the fire up. Those wolves seem bold tonight.”
“Would they come so close to the fire and humans, sir? I always thought wolves were wild and stayed well back in the forest.”
“They do, mostly,” Ober answered, “except when a winter like this one comes along, and there’s no game left in the forest for them. Hunger is a powerful thing, Patrick. I’ve lost many a sheep close to the fire on a winter night such as this.”
Ober and Patrick leaned against the big trees near the fire. Patrick stomped his feet to keep them from freezing. Something caught his eye on the other side of the fire. It was a strange, small gleam of light. No, two small gleams, like summer fireflies. Now there were four, now six!
Patrick’s heart thumped hard in his chest with a sudden fear. He knew what those lights were—firelight glinting in wolves’ eyes.
“Ober!” Patrick shouted. “Look!” As he shouted, a low growling came from where the small, hard lights gleamed.
“It’s a pack of them,” Ober called back. “Run, Patrick. It may be your only chance. It will be impossible for only two people to keep them from the sheep.”
“And leave you alone, sir?” Patrick asked, certain he had misunderstood.
“I’m an old man,” Ober answered, “and a servant like yourself, Patrick. I must stay and defend our king’s sheep, even if it means death for me.”
Patrick looked over at Ober. The old man had been his teacher, but, more than that, he had been Patrick’s friend ever since the king’s boatmen had captured him and brought him to this strange land. Run away and leave Ober here to fight the wolves alone? Run, even if it might mean a chance to escape? he asked himself.
“If you must stay, then so must I,” Patrick said firmly.
He looked up at the brittle black sky where tiny cold stars flashed. “Help me in this strange land,” Patrick seemed to say as he gazed toward the heavens. Then he grabbed a flaming pine bough in one hand and a heavy, club-like stick in the other. Hollering and shouting, he ran toward the growling pack of wolves.
He swung his club. Back and forth he passed the burning stick, all the time stomping and shouting. The startled wolves growled deeper and bared their yellowed teeth at him, but, helped by Ober, Patrick managed to drive them back, farther and farther.
At last the leader of the wolf pack, with a nasty, helpless snarl, turned and ran off into the trees. For a moment the others growled and snapped at Patrick’s club as he swung it at them. Then they, too, followed their leader into the trees.
“Well done, Patrick!” Ober thumped the young boy on the back soundly. “What a brave lad you are. You fought with the strength of ten men, and you saved the sheep. I would not have thought it possible that you could do it. It is truly miraculous!” Ober hugged the boy happily.
“We did it together, Ober.” Patrick smiled at the old man. Then he lifted his face to the stars and said quietly, “Together.”

People have asked me, “Why do you do this every week?” My answer is that my family started this habit a long time ago. I’m the youngest of 12 kids, and for as long as I can remember I’ve seen my mom coming home from the early Saturday morning temple session. She promised Heavenly Father that if she ever lived near a temple she would go often (for her, once a week), and she has kept her promise ever since my family moved close to a temple many years ago.

During one of my political campaigns, I had the opportunity to travel to Poland. While there, I met a man named Lech Walesa. It was a name well known to me. His country had been invaded by Russia in the early days of the Second World War. To quell any possible uprising by the Polish people, the Russian invaders rounded up 22,000 judges, teachers, political leaders, police and journalists, then took them into a forest and murdered them. It is known as the Karyn massacre.

For nearly 40 years, the Russian Soviets brutalized and oppressed the Polish people.

And then one man, Lech Walesa, stood up to them. He silently gathered workers at a steel factory in Gadansk and led them in a strike against the Soviet government. He organized the first independent labor union ever in a Communist country and demanded human rights for the people of Poland. It is hard for me to conceive of the courage it would take to confront a dictatorship that had previously slaughtered 22,000 Polish leaders.

Through his courage, he overthrew Soviet Union power and helped replace it with freedom and free agency. This he did without resorting to violence. His example spread throughout the Soviet Union and led to the freedom of many millions of people.

I met with him in his small office. He didn't look or sound much different than you or me.

But the courage of his conviction was of an entirely different dimension. Whenever I face a test of my principles, I often think of Lech Walesa.

“After I became a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I kept hearing from other members how marvelous it felt to be in the temple, and I yearned to experience it.
“Upon entering the temple, I couldn’t help but be in awe. What I felt couldn’t be compared to what I had heard. The temple felt peaceful and serene; indeed, it is the house of the Lord.
“I could only perform baptisms for the dead, but I was so happy I could perform an ordinance in the house of the Lord. It was a divine experience for me. Being in the temple further strengthens my testimony. I can testify that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is true. The gospel is true. God is in the temple and ordinances performed there are of the Lord. I look forward to my next visit as I prepare both spiritually and physically.”
– Nanman Glory Danan, Dogon Dutse Branch, Jos Nigeria District

“In Primary Melissa and I aren’t in the same class, but sometimes our teachers let us sit together during opening exercises and Sharing Time. I like Primary. One of my favorite lessons that I learned in Primary was from a talk that one of our leaders gave. She said that once when she was little and had gone out trick-or-treating, some teenagers took her bag of candy away from her. Her brother saw how sad she was and gave her his bag of candy. I thought that was a good lesson.” And it’s a lesson that Marnie Payne lives by.

I had looked forward to Sunday afternoon all week. Resting on a bench in our backyard, I listened to some soft music. As I sat there, I felt impressed to write in my journal.
The thought came to me to bear my testimony. It seemed like a great idea for something to write. I began to scribble down the feelings in my heart.
I started with the common things most people believe in. I believe the Church is true. I believe that we have a living prophet. I honestly did believe these things were true, although I didn’t know if I had a real testimony.
Then something unusual happened. I decided to write that I believed that the Book of Mormon was true. I started to write, but something didn’t feel right. I had read the entire Book of Mormon, and I had developed a great belief that it was true. But at that moment, I had to think about that belief.
I continued writing my testimony onto the page. I again stopped to think when I was about to write that I believed Heavenly Father answers prayers. Several times in my life, a prayer had been answered immediately. I knew prayers were answered.
Reading over my testimony, my attitudes began to change about what a testimony is. I realized I had always had a testimony of the truth of the gospel of Jesus Christ. It was a quiet testimony that had always been there until at this moment it had become just strong enough for me to know it was there.
I used to think that a testimony came suddenly, like a brilliant burst of the Spirit of the Holy Ghost in the heart. I never realized that a testimony could develop quietly and gently.
My testimony had been growing, almost without my knowing it, until I took the time to discover it was there.

How does someone with a degree in recreational therapy and 10 years of experience in the mental health field end up opening a dessert shop selling colorful brownies, blondies, and ice cream?
For Molly Kohrman, the answer is simple. In 2017 she took a 12-week Self-Reliance Services course on how to start and grow your own business. That course gave her the courage to pursue a dream.
“I did pastry school in Washington, D.C., and I went to culinary school in Utah,” she says. “When my stake said they were going to do self-reliance classes, I thought, ‘Maybe I should look into this. I’ve always wanted to have my own business. I’ve done other business classes. It wouldn’t hurt to learn more.’”
The course was different from any other business or pastry class Molly had taken. What made it unique, she says, was the presence of the Holy Ghost and the spirit of camaraderie among course members.
“The business discussions were good and helpful,” she says, “but it was the spiritual side tied into the business discussions that made the biggest difference for me.”
“I went through an inner turmoil,” Molly says. “I wondered if using all of my savings, time, and energy to start a business would really be the best use of my resources when, at the time, I was working in suicide prevention.”
During her first class, Molly and other attendees discussed the Lord’s desire that His Saints be successful and choose a livelihood that brings them joy. She asked the group, “How do you reconcile using the talents you’ve been given for weighty matters versus using your talents for something you just want to do?”
As the group discussed her question, Molly realized that she wouldn’t just be selling brownies. If her business proved successful, she would be employing people, she would have financial resources to donate to worthy causes, and, once her work hours slowed down, she could return to social work as a volunteer.
“It took me until that discussion to really understand. It didn’t sink in until I was in a room full of like-minded people,” she says. “We were all at different stages of the business process and at different stages of life, but the Spirit was there, and it definitely guided our discussion—in every class. I realized that if having my own business was really what I wanted, then Heavenly Father would support me.”
About halfway through her 12-week course, Molly began baking and sharing brownies with the 10 members of her self-reliance group.
“They weren’t mad at all about that, and some of them had really good feedback,” she says. “I started trying different flavors, frostings, and compositions. By the end of the class, I had a pretty good idea of what I wanted to do.”
Molly says it was vital to get together weekly with her group, hold each other accountable for weekly commitments, learn how and whom to ask for help, and direct each other to needed resources.
“During the whole time we were together, I felt blessed and supported by the people in my group,” she says. “The class helped me become aware of all the things I had to figure out.”
After opening her brownie shop in the fall of 2018, Molly quickly discovered that running a business takes more time than she had imagined. But a principle she remembers from her self-reliance class continues to bless her.
“We discussed how we’re going to have extreme demands on our time, but it will make a difference if we set aside time for the Spirit,” she says. “I have found that to be true. If I am suddenly feeling overwhelmed and stressed, I listen to the scriptures or a general conference talk while I’m working alone in the morning, and it eases my mind and gives me peace.”
That sense of peace, coupled with excited, happy, satisfied customers, keeps Molly going—even after long workdays.
“I could not have started this business without Heavenly Father’s help,” she says. “And without the help and support of many other people, it just wouldn’t have been possible. This is such a great opportunity. I’ve wanted to do it for so long.”
And thanks to her self-reliance class, “I’ve been blessed with the chance to try.”