Gospel Story Finder

Just as a little child starts to develop a sense of identity as he or she repeatedly hears a name, I believe our names are important to our identity always. As a young mother I returned to take a class from the university I had previously attended and found naturally that things were very much changed from the time when I had begun my studies. I didn’t know anyone. One day one of my past professors came into the room, noticed me, and said, “Janette Callister, how nice to see you.” She turned to my current professor and said she remembered me as a good student. I still remember the good feeling I had that somebody really knew me and remembered me for good.

Many years ago my father told us about going for a walk through the woods with an old friend, Judge Bringhurst. The judge sang so loudly along the way that he frightened all the wildlife. But my father said he enjoyed the judge’s singing so much that he didn’t mind not seeing any animals or birds. So when we laugh, smile, sing, whistle, or exercise, we seem to feel better. We either forget our concerns or they are put in better perspective. As we reach out to others, our happiness hormones are stimulated and we find our true selves.

Prophets have charge for the whole earth, not just for members of the Church. I can report from my own experience how personally and devotedly the First Presidency takes that charge. As needs grow, the First Presidency has charged us to increase our humanitarian outreach in a significant way. They are interested in the largest trends and the smallest details.

Recently, we brought to them one of the protective medical gowns that Beehive Clothing sewed for hospitals to use during the pandemic. As a medical doctor, President Russell M. Nelson was highly interested. He didn’t want to just see it. He wanted to try it on—check the cuffs and the length and the way it tied in the back. He told us later, with emotion in his voice, “When you meet with people on your assignments, thank them for their fasting, their offerings, and their ministering in the name of the Lord.”

I’ve always asked a lot of myself, especially in high school. And I often fell short because I tried to accomplish so many things at once to prove that I was good enough. One year I decided to learn ballroom dancing, take music lessons, and join an ensemble. I thought I needed to do as much as I could to develop and perfect my talents. But at a certain point, I had to give everything up because it was all just too much for me to handle. I was so hard on myself. I felt like a failure, and failing was one of my biggest fears.

I know I’m not the only person who struggles with perfectionism. So many of us are trying our best every day and feeling discouraged when we don’t accomplish everything perfectly. But despite our efforts, none of us will ever be completely perfect here on the earth. So how can we strive for perfection when all efforts seem so futile? Elder Jeffrey R. Holland of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles shares an answer: “Be ye therefore perfect—eventually.”1

Striving for perfection is a good thing, but it can become negative if we let it overwhelm us. With everything this life asks of us physically, mentally, emotionally, and even spiritually, it’s important that we don’t burn ourselves out by settling for nothing less than perfection. And it’s even more important to think about what Heavenly Father asks of us. He doesn’t want us to be burnt out from trying to do too much.

The Lord taught in Doctrine and Covenants 10:4, “Do not run faster or labor more than you have strength and means provided to enable you to translate; but be diligent unto the end.” We can apply that to our lives. Heavenly Father wants us to be happy, and we will be if we do what He tells us to do in the best way we can. Even if our efforts are not quite perfect yet.

The word perfect originally comes from the Latin word perficere, which breaks down into per- (“completely”) and facere (“do”). So perfection actually means “complete.” And we cannot be complete without Jesus Christ (see Moroni 10:30). I think many of us often think we aren’t good enough. And, well, we aren’t! That is, without Christ we aren’t. As Ammon said: “I know that I am nothing; as to my strength I am weak; therefore I will not boast of myself, but I will boast of my God, for in his strength I can do all things” (Alma 26:12).

With Jesus Christ, we can always strive to become better, even so much that we will become perfect and complete one day because He will make up for our imperfections. “Yea, come unto Christ, and be perfected in him, and deny yourselves of all ungodliness; and if ye shall deny yourselves of all ungodliness, and love God with all your might, mind and strength, then is his grace sufficient for you, that by his grace ye may be perfect in Christ” (Moroni 10:32).

Over the years I’ve realized I didn’t fully understand and comprehend what the Savior’s Atonement means for and to me. I thought I needed to have a flawless performance here on earth and that I was left alone to figure out how to fulfill this task. But now I know that we are never alone. If we strive to focus on Jesus Christ and keep Him in our hearts and in our minds, our weaknesses will change into strengths—just like how my struggle with perfectionism is changing. I know I’m not perfect. But Christ can help us overcome any weaknesses, sins, challenges, or fears. He understands us and knows how to succor us. I hope we may all enjoy His infinite love. And realize that although we aren’t perfect now, if we strive to follow Him, we will be one day.

Jaslyn Simpson took a leap of faith in a Beehive class of only two girls in Wellington, New Zealand. The Beehive teacher of the Crofton Downs Ward challenged the girls, as part of their lesson on missionary work, to invite a friend to church. And Jaslyn decided she’d do it.
“I knew there was something missing in Amy’s life,” Jaslyn says, “so I knew I should introduce her to the gospel.” Jaslyn’s small action of love caused a major reaction in the life of her best friend, Amy Valentine. Amy came to church with Jaslyn at the first invitation and then kept coming to Sunday meetings and youth activities for the next two months, until Jaslyn and her family moved to Sydney, Australia.
“I’ve never really had a Christian background. I had no idea how to pray or anything,” Amy says. “But before they left, I decided I was going to keep going to church without them. By then, I sort of knew some other people at church.”
One of those people was Michelle Broczek, the other Beehive in the Crofton Downs Ward. Michelle invited Amy to take the discussions in her home and, with her parents’ approval, Amy was baptized when she was 13.
But Amy’s transition into the Church wasn’t easy. “Even when I was leading up to it and for a while after my baptism, it was hard to adjust,” she says. Michelle’s friendship and love helped Amy stay close to the gospel, even though none of her family or other friends were members. “Michelle’s an amazing example. That was one of the biggest differences for me.”
“I’ve always done those things,” Michelle says. “I didn’t just change because Amy was joining the Church.” She says it’s important to be an example, especially to strengthen investigators and new members in the Church. “Keep on working on your testimony and yourself and just be aware of the little things you do.”
Amy and Michelle gain a lot of strength from each other, and they have strong individual testimonies, too. They frequently give away copies of the Book of Mormon with their testimonies written inside.
Even with a strong testimony of the gospel, being the only member in the family is not easy. Although she’s been able to share the gospel with her friends at school, it’s more difficult with her family. “They’re the hardest, especially because I look to my parents as an example. It’s kind of a switch when I try to teach them more about the gospel.”
Not having other members of the Church in her family makes the goal of a temple marriage very important to Amy. She wants to have a family that is strong in the gospel and be able to do all the things she doesn’t get a chance to do now, like family scripture study and family home evening.
Amy keeps trying to share the gospel with her family and hopes her example and activity in the Church will finally have an effect on them. She stays active by praying a lot and drawing strength from Young Women.
A value project Amy has chosen also helps her to come closer to Christ. “This year, I’m really concentrating on getting to know Jesus Christ better,” she says. And the way to know Him better is to be more like Him. So Amy made a list of all the attributes of Christ she could think of, with help from the scriptures. She came up with things like faith, charity, love, and generosity, and she works on trying to be each of the things on her list for a few days at a time.
To others who are in her situation, Amy has some words of advice: “Really, really study,” she emphasizes. “Gain a testimony and an understanding of the gospel for yourself. Don’t rely on others because it is up to you. Always rely on Heavenly Father. He will give you the understanding and the blessings you need.”
The young women in her ward all agree: Amy’s life is a labor of love. “Everyone should want to have a friend who’s as into the gospel as she is. She loves the gospel,” says Kelly Butters, who just left the Laurels for the Relief Society. Since the gift of the gospel was shared with her, Amy feels she needs to share it with others too. She and Michelle have fellowshipped many of the other young women in their stake, and they continue to share the gospel and their testimonies. Jaslyn’s small leap of faith, nearly five years ago, has rippled through Amy’s life and continues to bless the lives of others through her example and testimony.
Sister Margaret D. Nadauld, general president of the Young Women, made this special request of all the young women in the Church at the last general Young Women meeting:
“Will you reach out and bring one other young woman into full activity in the Church this coming year? Surely each one of you knows of a girl who is less active or a recent convert or who is not a member. We are asking you to reach out and share the gospel of Jesus Christ with one other young woman, so that she can also enjoy the sweet blessings of heaven. …
“Just think, if each one of you will accept this invitation to reach out and bring in just one, next year there will be twice as many active young women! Let the Holy Spirit guide you in your effort. Your parents and leaders will also help you know what to do and how to do it” (Ensign, May 2001, 92).

Twins Vince and Wayne Watson of Anchorage, Alaska, saw the wheels of big government really roll on a recent visit to “Washington Workshops.” The brothers’ trip, sponsored by four area banks and the local Teamsters Union, gave them the opportunity to spend two weeks touring historic landmarks, sitting in on legislative sessions, and enjoying the spectacular beauty of the nation’s capital. While in Washington the two also visited the temple and did baptisms for the dead.
Vince and Wayne have long been interested in government and leadership. For four years they alternated as class president and vice president; this past year Vince served as senior class president and Wayne as student body head at Bartlett High School in Anchorage. Both attended the .American Legion Boy’s State, earned Duty to God Awards, hold the rank of Eagle, and have participated in Church and school dramas and musicals, including Saturday’s Warrior.
Vince and Wayne have also completed four years of seminary, which in Alaska means getting up at 4:30 A.M., while holding down 20-hour-a-week jobs.

The president of the Cardston Temple told me this incident. He said, “A group of young people came to go through the temple for the first time to do baptisms for the dead. After they had gone through two or three baptismal sessions and were about ready to go back home, I suggested that they could come down to my office and I would attempt to answer any questions they might have. I talked to them about their own baptisms. I said, ‘After your own baptism, you were told to receive the Holy Ghost, which means that the Holy Ghost will guide and bless you if your are worthy. If anyone should oppose you, or bring harm to you, you can overcome that opposition by the influence of the Holy Ghost.’
“I looked around and saw a pleasant young girl sobbing. She said, ‘When I was baptized, my mother cursed me. Every time I would go out she was vile and called me wicked names. When I told her I was going to the temple, she profaned and said I was no daughter of hers. I have been fasting ever since I left home that here in the temple I would be given a guide and the power to overcome the opposition of my mother. I was going away disappointed. But now, at the last moment, you have given me the key.’’A smile lit up on her face as she said, ‘I am going to bring Mother within the influence of the power of the Holy Ghost which I have a right to enjoy.’”
Then the president said, “Weeks went by, and a letter came from this girl. The letter said, ‘When I returned home and entered the house, mother greeted me similarly to the way she had when I left, by profaning. On other occasions I had fought back, but this time I walked over and put my arm around her shoulder and said, ‘Mother I am not going to quarrel with you today. I want you to come over on the couch and sit down beside me. I want to tell you something.’ This surprised Mother. As we sat down, we touched cheeks so that in actuality the Spirit would emanate from me to her, and I bore my testimony. I told her what a wonderful experience I had in the temple. And to my amazement, Mother burst into tears and begged my forgiveness.’
“The girl closed her letter by saying, ‘We are now preparing Mother to be baptized a member of the Church.’”

Our plane landed and the young mother was off, carry-on bag in one arm, little boy in the other. It turned out she had another flight ahead of her and was about to miss it. I watched her panic on the tarmac as her luggage came out. I took stock of her belongings: stroller, car seat, suitcase, carry-on, diaper bag. She needed help. My empathy needed to mature into compassion.
Without stopping to introduce myself, I reached for her many belongings and said, “I’ll take these. You take him. Run to your gate. I’ll follow you.” She accepted gratefully, and we sprinted through the airport. As we approached the gate, I saw another woman pleading with the airline attendant to keep the plane on the ground for just a few more minutes. We approached breathless but triumphant. The young mother and this woman embraced with tears of joy and relief before boarding.
This small act of service didn’t change the world, but it did meaningfully bless the life of a child of God in need. Just as it helped my new friend progress toward her physical destination, it helped me progress toward my spiritual destination. Choosing empathy and compassion helped me become a bit more like Jesus Christ. And this made me happy.

My friend Stephen was not just any friend. He was awesome in every way, and I really looked up to him. One day, he asked me if I wanted to know about something that made him incredibly happy. Of course I did. Anything that was important to him was important to me. He continued to ask me other questions before he would reveal what it was that made him so happy. Did I want to know the truth? I finally realized that he was probably talking about his church. After a couple of weeks, he asked if I would speak with the missionaries. I thought, “Why not? Nothing is going to happen from just one visit.”
The day came to meet the missionaries, and as I walked into Stephen’s house, I was quite nervous. I had no idea what to expect. The elders introduced themselves. They seemed extremely nice and fun. Then after a prayer, they began the first discussion. I remember the feeling so well. As they talked about Joseph Smith, the Book of Mormon, and Jesus Christ, I knew that there was something special about this gospel.
When I arrived home, I told my mom everything I had learned and how much sense it made. My mom seemed slightly interested but not even close to the level of excitement I had. I was filled with some sort of energy, and I wanted to know more.
The next week I had the second discussion. Again, everything taught made sense. At the close of the discussion, one of the elders asked if I would be baptized. Honestly, I was shocked. I didn’t think this question would come up so soon. I told the elders that I simply didn’t know. They asked me to kneel with them and pray aloud to know if the things I had been taught were true. I had never prayed vocally with others before, so I was rather timid.
My best friend, the missionaries, and I knelt, and I prayed. I prayed to Heavenly Father to know if Joseph Smith was a prophet. I asked if the Book of Mormon was true. I pleaded to know if this was the true church and if it was in His plan for me to join it. I prayed for guidance and direction. I prayed to know what Heavenly Father wanted me to do. After probably 10 minutes of sincere prayer, I said amen and opened my eyes.
All I could feel was the Spirit. It was the most wonderful feeling I had ever felt. I was amazed with the knowledge and truth I had just been blessed with. I looked at the missionaries and told them I wanted to be baptized. We set the date. I knew at that moment that everything I had been taught and everything to come was true. I had gained my own testimony.
When I told my mother, she was more understanding than I had expected. She told me that if I really felt this was what I needed to do, then I should do it.
Sooner than I could believe, I was getting ready to be baptized. My whole family attended, which made it even more special. As my best friend and I walked into the font, wearing all white, the Spirit was present. I was about to be clean, as clean as I had been when I was born.
When I came out of the water, I couldn’t believe it. I had been baptized. This was my first best day.
The missionaries soon started teaching my family the discussions. My family had a hard time grasping concepts such as the Book of Mormon and Joseph Smith, key concepts to the Church. But they kept listening to the discussions.
Finally, during the sixth discussion, the elders asked my family to be baptized. The room was silent. After a few moments, my dad looked up and said, “Yes, this is what we need to do.” I was in awe because my dad had never been very faithful about going to church. He looked at my mom, and she also said yes. My 14-year-old brother was in tears. He, too, wanted to be baptized. Three months after my baptism, my family was baptized. This was my second best day.
About a year later, my family was sealed in the Atlanta Georgia Temple. As we walked into the sealing room, the Spirit overwhelmed me. We knelt together as a family and were sealed together forever. This was the best day of all.
I love this Church. I am thankful for Jesus Christ, Heavenly Father, my friend, and the missionaries who taught me the gospel. Now, thanks to them, each of my days can be a best day.

Papa made me a little wooden box with a hinged lid for my birthday that October when I was seven. It was to hold my precious things to take with me, he said. I packed it and repacked it many times, trying to find the best way to get the most in; but I never could get it to hold everything I wanted to take.
Papa and Mama were busy getting the wagon ready to go, and my friend Eileen was watching me pack the box for the last time.
“Where do you think the best place is for the chickens?” Mama asked.
“Chickens?” Papa said. “We’re not taking any chickens.”
“Of course we are. Three or four of the best layers and Caroline’s rooster, so we can raise some chicks in the spring and maybe a couple of hens to eat along the way.”
Papa sighed. When Mama had that sound in her voice, he knew it was no use to argue.
“I guess we can put them in a crate and tie it to the side behind the washtubs. You’d better put chicken feed on your list.”
“I already did.”
“I think I’ve figured out how to load the stove so we can cook on it while we’re traveling,” Papa told her.
“That’ll come in handy. Will we have plenty of water?”
“Four barrels: two in front and two behind. That should be enough to get us through the driest places.”
I carefully placed the soft leather Bible in one end of my box. Pressed between its pages were beautiful red leaves I had gathered from the autumn trees. I’d tied a string round and round both ways so they wouldn’t fall out. I dropped the seeds in next, in the little crack that was left behind the book: two red beans and four watermelon seeds and then the long strand of tiny glass beads I had strung myself. Sister Johnson had given them to me in a slim bottle with a cork one day when Mama was visiting her. While they talked, I had picked up the beads one at a time with the thin needle and slipped them along the thread, choosing the colors to suit me as I went.
I tried to fold the doll quilt small enough to fit into the box, but it was no use. I handed it to Eileen instead and indicated it was to be hers.
“For keeps?” she asked, and I nodded my head.
She rubbed it against her cheek. I’d made it by sewing together scraps from the new baby clothes, and I knew I could stitch another after we’d moved.
“Will the doll fit?” she wanted to know, and I answered by placing Henrietta on the soft bed I’d made with her folded flannel nightie. Henrietta was a beautiful painted-eye doll with china head, hands, and feet, and a stuffed cloth body. Some girls had shut-eye dolls, but I wouldn’t have traded because I loved Henrietta.
“What about those?” Eileen asked, pointing to the rest of my treasures beside her on the step.
I shook my head and handed them to her one by one—an old hat and pair of shoes I used to play dress-up, some more doll clothes, a worn-out Mother Goose book. When I came to the bag of marbles, I dumped them out, selected five or six of my favorites, and pushed them into the folds of the doll dresses in the box. The rest I returned to the bag and gave to Eileen.
After she ran off home with her hands full, I noticed again the pain in my head. It had started two or three days before as a tender spot behind my right ear and now was a sore and throbbing lump. I went inside to talk to Heavenly Father and ask Him to make it better.
By morning I was burning up with fever and crying with pain. Mama took one look at the spot I pointed to and said, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? We’ll have to get you to a doctor fast!”
The doctor decided just as quickly that he should lance the boil, and before long he had drained it.
“There, doesn’t that feel better?” the doctor asked.
I tried to say it sure did, but he couldn’t understand my mumble.
“Can’t this child talk?” he asked Mama.
“Not too good,” she said.
He took a look in my mouth and said, “Why, she’s tongue-tied! This should have been taken care of a long time ago. It’s a very simple procedure.”
He explained to me that my tongue was fastened down on the bottom where it should not be. All he had to do was cut it loose a little, and then I’d be able to talk like everyone else. I couldn’t believe it.
For a few minutes life was wonderful. The pain was gone in my head and the doctor could help me talk. When we get to our home in New Mexico, I’ll be talking like everyone else, I dreamed. I can go to school with Ed and, best of all, no one will tease me.
I did not know yet that it would take lots of pain and effort before I could talk and years of hard work before we had a place of our own.
The doctor asked Mama when would be a good time for the operation, and she said, “You’d better do it now; we’re leaving tomorrow.”
(To be continued.)

A couple of years ago I was at my cousin’s birthday party. She had invited two of her other friends to the party, and we were having lots of fun when one of her friends said, “Let’s watch a movie.” We all agreed. Then they said they wanted to watch a PG-13 movie.
I had a sick feeling in my stomach. I wasn’t allowed to watch PG-13 movies, and I knew what I had to do. I’d been baptized and confirmed a member of the Church. I had to stand up for myself. That was really hard because I’m kind of shy.
Finally I said, “I can’t watch PG-13 movies.”
I felt a little better then, but they started making suggestions like, “Just plug your ears.” I wouldn’t do it. Finally my cousin said, “OK, we won’t watch the movie.” I’m glad I listened to the Holy Ghost and obeyed the rules my mom and dad made for me.

They all said it. My mom said it. My dad said it. My teachers at church said it. My friends said it. And they said it over and over again. Joseph Smith is a prophet, they said. This Church is true, they said. The only true church on the face of the earth. But I wasn’t so sure that I could say it with my whole heart.
I wanted to know if they were right. I had always been told that if I wanted a testimony I had to pray and ask God for the truth. I prayed, but I felt nothing. As part of my daily prayers, I asked for a confirmation, a sure knowledge and testimony that Joseph Smith was a prophet of God and that the Church was true. I still felt the same. I continued praying daily, asking for a witness of the truth. God chose not to answer my prayers right away. But I continued seeking.
One day I was playing hymns on the piano and singing to myself. I turned to “Joseph Smith’s First Prayer” (Hymns, no. 26). I had sung it many times before. This time, I paid closer attention to the words, and they meant more to me than they ever had. “Oh, how lovely was the morning!” I sang. “Radiant beamed the sun above. Bees were humming, sweet birds singing, Music ringing thru the grove, When within the shady woodland Joseph sought the God of love.”
I imagined in my mind, Joseph Smith walking into a grove of trees on a beautiful spring day. “Humbly kneeling, sweet appealing—’Twas the boy’s first uttered prayer.” I pictured Joseph in my mind, praying to his Father with all his heart.
When I reached the third verse, the words affected me powerfully. “Suddenly a light descended, Brighter far than noon-day sun.” Just as that sudden light, brighter than the sun, enlightened the understanding of the boy Joseph, it enlightened mine. Peace filled me as I continued to sing. “And a shining glorious pillar O’er him fell, around him shone, While appeared two heav’nly beings, God the Father and the Son.”
With joy in my heart I sang, “‘Joseph, this is my Beloved; Hear him!’ Oh, how sweet the word! Joseph’s humble prayer was answered, And he listened to the Lord.”
Joseph’s humble prayer was answered, and so was mine that day. I didn’t have a vision as Joseph did, but I could feel that the Church was true. It was something I had never felt before: a peace, a joy, a surety that Joseph Smith was a prophet and had restored the Church of Jesus Christ. I have felt that peaceful assurance many times since then. I know God lives. He hears and answers our prayers. This is His true Church. And Joseph Smith was a true prophet.

When we received a letter calling us to serve a full-time mission from 2016 to 2019, we did not know in which mission. With my wife, Lucie, we started to think about where it could be. Then we decided to wait for the assignment letter from the First Presidency to know the place. Later, the letter arrived, and I was on trip for my assignment as an Area Seventy. I asked Lucie to wait and to not open the letter until I returned home so that we could read it together.

When I returned home, we went in our bedroom to open the letter. We read it and learned that we had been called to serve as mission leaders in Democratic Republic of the Congo Mbuji Mayi Mission. As we discovered the place, we stopped reading the letter and we did not even finish it. We were kind of upset and many questions and concerns came to our mind in few minutes. We thought about our three children who were 14, 11 and 7 years old. We thought about their school, the change of life conditions, a new area with a new local language that none of us could speak. We were overwhelmed and stuck. Suddenly we look each other, and I suggested that we pray.

Our prayer was not to change the place to serve. We went on our knees and I did pray our Heavenly Father sincerely about our concerns and feelings.

After the prayer, we felt peace, confirmation, and comfort that it is about the Lord’s work. All fears and concerns had been replaced by an assurance and understanding and with the desire to serve God. We stood up and we finished reading the letter.

We then decided to start preparing ourselves and our family for the move to serve the mission. We went on mission and the Lord was in charge until the end of our three years of mission service.

Many years ago in a general conference, I spoke of how José de Souza Marques understood the words of the Savior that “if any man among you be strong in the Spirit, let him take with him him that is weak, that he may … become strong also.”6
Brother Marques knew the name of every sheep in his priests quorum and realized that Fernando was missing. He hunted for Fernando at his house, then looked for him at a friend’s home, and even went to the beach.
He finally found Fernando surfing in the ocean. He did not hesitate until the boat sank, like in Daniel’s story. He immediately entered the water to rescue his lost sheep, bringing him home rejoicing.7
He then ensured through continual ministering that Fernando never again would leave the fold.8
Allow me to update you on what has happened since Fernando was rescued and to share the joy that came from rescuing just one lost sheep. Fernando married his sweetheart, Maria, in the temple. They now have 5 children and 13 grandchildren, all of whom are active in the Church. Many other relatives and their families have also joined the Church. Together they have submitted thousands of their ancestors’ names to receive temple ordinances, and the blessings just keep coming.
Fernando is now serving as bishop for the third time, and he continues to rescue, just like he was rescued. He recently shared, “In our ward, we have 32 active young men of the Aaronic Priesthood, 21 of whom were rescued in the last 18 months.” As individuals, families, quorums, auxiliaries, classes, and home and visiting teachers, we can do that!

It was Friday. Payday! A day we all looked forward to like Christmas, twice a month. Most of us would go out at lunchtime to cash our checks, pay some bills, maybe do a little shopping and take a break from boring sack lunches.
As the checks were brought around, I happened to be passing the desk of one of the secretaries. Shauna was a single woman in her late twenties. She lived with her parents, and apparently they still provided a lot for her. Because when she opened her pay envelope she stopped and looked thoughtful for a minute.
“You know,” she said to no one in particular, “now I can’t remember if I cashed my last check or not.”
The rest of us looked at each other with amusement and maybe a little disbelief. Then Shauna went on to tell us how she had come across several uncashed checks in a drawer at home about six months before. That really blew us away. Those of us who had gathered at Shauna’s desk just walked away, shaking our heads.
Now, if you have trouble relating to Shauna’s attitude, just imagine this: For two weeks you have worked hard. Now you are cashing your paycheck. But when the teller puts the money on the counter, you just take some of it and leave the rest behind. That doesn’t make much more sense than Shauna’s attitude, does it?
So how about this scenario? You go to your church meetings even when you are tired or when you have too much homework or the Super Bowl is on TV. You go to seminary (early-morning, even), you pay your tithing, work on service projects, keep the Word of Wisdom, and stay morally clean despite temptations. You plug along, trying to do what’s right, keeping your parents and your bishop and your teachers happy.
But, are you happy? What are you getting out of it? Yes, you are getting blessings. But some of your less active LDS friends, and even your nonmember friends, seem to be enjoying many of those same blessings. They have loving families, good health, food and clothing, etc. So what are the blessings you are enjoying as a result of “doing the right things”? Do you think they are future blessings that will come when you get married or when you die and are judged?
If you are not happy now because you are trying to do what is right, you may be missing the full paycheck. Because living the gospel should be more than gritting your teeth and abstaining, more than doing your duty with grim determination. There’s joy and happiness to be found in it right now, at this time of your life.
How can you be happy living the gospel now? Here are some important keys.
Develop your testimony now. If you don’t feel that you have one, work at it. Study and fast and pray. Read the Book of Mormon. If you have a testimony or the beginnings of one, continue to develop it.
When you have a testimony, you have the Lord’s personal witness that the gospel principles you try to live are true. Then you are not just doing them for others. And when you open the line of communication with the Spirit, the Lord can bless you with the feelings of satisfaction and self-worth and joy that he alone can give.
If there is something you need to repent of, do it now! True repentance is unbelievably sweet. Your whole soul opens up to the joyous influence of the Spirit when you repent. When you delay repentance, you delay the joy that you could otherwise be experiencing right now.
Think about what you are doing. When you pay your tithing, do it with a prayer in your heart that says you are grateful to offer it to the Lord. When you go to sacrament meeting, think about what you are doing when you take the sacrament. When you work on a service project, remember the Lord’s commandments to love and serve others.
Don’t try to be two people—one person on Sunday and someone else the other six days of the week. Don’t walk the edge, toying with temptation, seeing how close you can come to the brink without falling off the edge. For example, it is difficult enough to remain pure. If you watch the wrong movies and read the wrong books, if you look with longing at what others are doing in the world while you wish and imagine, then the Spirit cannot give you the rewarding feelings of peace and joy and approval that could be yours through controlling your desires. There will not be room in your heart and mind.
Above all, remember that “men are, that they might have joy” (2 Ne. 2:25)—joy in this life as well as the life to come, and this is the best pay of all. Your Father in Heaven loves you. And as you keep his commandments willingly, and thoughtfully, and prayerfully, he stands ready to bless you now with the sweet, joyful reassurance of the Spirit. You will still experience the sorrows that are part of life, but you will also discover the joys that are equally a part of life.

Now, some of you may not have a paper waiting for you. It may be a textbook with a math problem hidden in it. Let me tell you about a day in your future. You’ll have a teenage son or daughter who’ll say, “I hate school.” After some careful listening, you’ll find it is not school or even mathematics he or she hates—it’s the feeling of failure.

You’ll correctly discern those feelings, and you’ll be touched; you’ll want to freely give. So you’ll open the text and say, “Let’s look at one of the problems together.” Think of the shock you will feel when you see that the same rowboat is still going downstream in two hours and back in five hours, and the questions are still how fast the current is and how far the boat traveled. You might think, “Well, I’ll make my children feel better by showing them that I can’t do math either.” Let me give you some advice: they will see that as a poor gift.

A true story from Peru.
Spencer held Papá’s hand as they walked through the grass. His older sisters walked ahead, gathering rocks and twigs.
“Papá, why do we use things from outside for the Nativity?” Spencer asked.
Papá picked up a piece of moss. “This is something families have done here for a long time. We gather things Heavenly Father has given us in nature to make a place for baby Jesus. It helps us remember that He was born in a humble place.”
Spencer looked at the moss in Papá’s hand. It wasn’t fancy, but it was soft.
When they got home, they gathered around the wooden table in the living room. Papá placed a small clay Mary and Joseph on the table. Now they would use what they found outside to make the stable and the manger. Then, on Christmas Eve they’d add the baby Jesus to the Nativity scene.
Spencer watched as his sisters worked. They added colorful flowers and wove branches into a little fence. They made it look so nice.
Spencer carefully placed some moss on one side of the stable and added a few rocks. But when he looked at what he had made, it didn’t seem as good as what his sisters made. His path looked crooked. His moss wasn’t smooth.
He sighed. “My part doesn’t look very nice,” he said quietly.
Mamá put an arm around him. “Why do you think that?”
“It doesn’t look as good as theirs.”
Papá moved to sit beside him. “Spencer, do you know why we make this Nativity?”
Spencer shook his head.
“To help us feel close to Jesus,” Papá said. “The Savior is the most special part of Christmas. He doesn’t need fancy gifts—just our love and our best efforts.”
Spencer nodded. He looked at his little pile of rocks and moss again. Maybe it wasn’t perfect, but he had done his best.
Over the next few days, they gathered by the table to light a candle and sing Christmas songs. Spencer liked how the manger for baby Jesus stayed empty. It reminded him that they were waiting for something special—just like the shepherds and Wise Men did.
Finally, Christmas Eve came. Mom handed Spencer the tiny clay baby Jesus, and he placed it carefully in the manger.
As Spencer looked at the Nativity, he didn’t worry about how perfect it looked. He thought about Jesus Christ.
Spencer smiled. This year, he had given something to Jesus by doing his best, even when it wasn’t perfect. And he wanted to keep giving—by being kind, loving others, and trying to be more like Him.

When I was 12, some of the girls in my new school invited me to a birthday party. It was the first party with these school friends I had been invited to. When I asked my parents if I could go, they said no because the party started too late.
A short time later, I got another invitation. I again asked my parents, but they again said no, and I got mad. Couldn’t I have any fun?
Then one of my closest friends planned a party. I was one of the first people she invited. The party started earlier than the others. It would be private and held near my home. I asked my parents for permission to go, and they said yes! I was excited.
The day arrived. As my parents drove me there, they said that they would pick me up at 10:00 p.m. When I got to the party, I found my girlfriends. Twenty minutes later, I still hadn’t seen the birthday girl.
A few minutes later, a young man came up to us and asked, “Have you brought money for the pisto?” He made a sign that let me know that “pisto” was beer. My girlfriends gave in at the request for money. I didn’t have any money with me, so I decided to go off with some other girls while these ones did their business.
Finally, the birthday girl arrived—an hour late. I congratulated her, and while we were talking, a big truck arrived. Five men got out and unloaded two crates of beer. Everyone crowded around and started handing out the beer. My girlfriends went off, and I was alone, watching those young people fighting to drink beer.
My girlfriends came over and offered me some. “No, thanks,” I told them. They again insisted. I again said no. My heart started beating fast, and I felt strange, like in a suspense movie where I was the main character and I was trapped in the middle of nowhere. Then I heard a car horn—it was my parents! I made my exit with a single good-bye and ran to the car.
I got in, breathing hard. I started thinking how heavy the environment felt where I had been. My mom asked if I was all right. “Yes,” I replied, “but something surprised me.”
“What surprised you?” asked my father.
“All my friends were drinking, and there I was, startled, waiting for something good to happen. How I wished for you both to get here, and now I’m here.” I looked at the car clock; it wasn’t yet 10:00.
My mom said, “That’s how parties are in the world. That was why we didn’t allow you to go to previous parties.”
That night when I prayed, I thanked my Heavenly Father that my parents had arrived early.
We members of the Church are in the world, but we are not like the world. I have learned that if I would have continued attending those parties, I might have fallen into breaking the Word of Wisdom and even the law of chastity. Many of my acquaintances have fallen into this, most of them outside of the Church, but even members of the Church themselves can reach the point of falling if they do not remain firm.
I feel happy with that decision I made to not drink. I thought that I would be made fun of afterwards, but my friends ended up with more respect for me because they know my standards. After that, I have not been afraid to say no to what I know will harm me.

During the next few months, I spent a lot of time at home and had plenty of time to think. I grieved for the loss of the person I thought I would be in my later years. I grieved for the future that my wife and I had previously envisioned. I endured days of discouragement. I prayed a lot as my symptoms grew worse. My need to find positive ways of coping increased.
Then the Lord provided an unexpected source of support. My wife and I were called to be our ward’s welfare and self-reliance specialists. As part of our calling, we facilitated a group meeting on emotional resilience. I had not thought about needing the class personally. However, by the end of the first meeting, I thought, “Wow! This is for me!” We talked about avoiding negative thought patterns, being positive, controlling our feelings. It gave me some practical tools that, over time, helped me—and my wife as well—to develop a healthy attitude toward my disease.

Robert, an investigator in Canada, has attended a variety of LDS meetings and activities. He has researched various religions but continues studying the Church because of the inspiration he has found in its doctrine and the Book of Mormon. He attends institute to learn more and finds the social environment “refreshingly wholesome, friendly, with a really good vibe,” he says. “Mormons are the nicest people in the world.”

A self-described introvert, Robert wants to interact but says, “I tend to hug the walls, unsure of how to be part of the groups, some of them long-term LDS friends who don’t seem to need anyone else.” But it doesn’t take much to ease this sense of isolation. During an activity, he recalls, “someone came up to me after dinner and encouraged me to stay for the movie; otherwise, I would have left, but instead I had a great time. I just needed to know that someone wanted me there.”

Like Melissa, he appreciates LDS friends who explain doctrine but don’t get too specific about how to live it. Friends who listen more than they admonish are like “someone who walks beside you, as opposed to pushing from behind to make you go faster. Most of the time, you just trip and stumble.”

Robert has struggled to give up smoking. His discomfort illustrates how those who are new are deeply aware of their differences. “Not one member has ever said anything to me about smelling like smoke,” he says. “Yet if my clothes aren’t fresh out of the laundry, I will stay home from institute or church.”