Gospel Story Finder

The first few years of our marriage seemed nearly perfect. After my husband and I were sealed in the México City México Temple, we both graduated from the university and our first daughter was born. My husband had a good job and was called as bishop in our ward. Then we were able to move to Jalisco, a part of México where my grandparents had lived. We had always dreamed of rearing our children in a peaceful place, and Jalisco met the desires of our hearts. Our way of life, however, would soon change dramatically.
In Jalisco, our second daughter was born. Unfortunately, I suffered severe complications after her birth. We were able to meet the expenses from our savings, but then, two weeks later, my husband lost his job. With no income, we had to move from our house. Credit card bills, car payments, and rent were strangling us.
Eventually, my husband began to work nights as a taxi driver. Frequently his expenses exceeded his income, but his work did bring a little food to the table. Then the car broke down, and even that little source of income ended. We sold or pawned many of our possessions. At the same time, México underwent a serious currency devaluation, which added greatly to our financial distress.
My husband was emotionally and physically exhausted, so I got a job as a teacher in a bilingual elementary school. The work was hard, the salary small, and I had to leave my little ones in the care of a Church member. To save money, we moved to a cheaper place in a poorer section of town.
As I struggled to go to work, care for the family, keep up the house, and participate at church, I became very depressed. One terrible night I was so distressed I had to be hospitalized. After giving me a sedative, the doctor said, “You’re drowning yourself in your problems. That’s for cowards, and I don’t think that is what you are. Think about it.”
Her words resounded in my mind, and I closed my eyes, searching for something to give me courage. I reviewed my life. Yes, all our material possessions are gone, I told myself, but I am still alive, and I have a wonderful husband and two precious daughters. I remembered I had not been born to accumulate goods or to live in tranquillity. I had come to serve my family and others and to build the kingdom of God.
When I returned home, I prayed as never before. I pleaded with my Heavenly Father to strengthen me. I spoke with my bishop, and he told me, “The Lord will remove from your path that which is hurting you.” The following day I learned that I had been fired from my job without any explanation. That same day I learned I had been granted a scholarship to further my education. Being able to spend time teaching my little ones did a great deal to heal my spirit.
One morning the telephone, which had not worked for months, rang to bring the news that my husband had received a job as a teacher. The phone immediately stopped working again, but it didn’t matter. My husband had work!
As never before, welfare and self-reliance principles took hold in our home. I learned to process wheat and soybeans for storage. I planted corn near the sidewalk, then received permission to plant a garden on property belonging to friends. God blessed our little garden. It produced an abundance of food, including squash and alfalfa.
The hard work—and the food I was able to store—tamed my fear and filled me with hope. As my attitude changed, I was able to see the hand of the Lord in our lives. We were blessed with good health; none of us even had a cold. Never, even in the most difficult times, did we stop feeding the missionaries. The children always had food, and we had plenty of invitations to eat with friends. One day I was finally able to buy a second cylinder of propane for our stove. Immediately the contents of the previous one ran out. Typically, a cylinder lasts six weeks, but this one had lasted for months.
Out of our trials we learned some important lessons. We learned to value the counsel of our leaders. We learned to receive; it is good to serve, but it is also important to let others serve you. Both my husband and I were able to get additional job training without paying for it. My beloved in-laws were always conscious of our needs, and I found in my mother-in-law a great friend.
And our marriage grew and was strengthened. One night my husband took me in his arms and said, “I don’t care if they put us out on the street. If you are by my side, I will have the courage to start all over again.”
Perhaps most importantly, we came to see things from an eternal point of view. We came to understand that both in good times and bad, God shelters us in the palm of His hand.

After about a year of working on my mission application, I gave it to my bishop to submit it to the stake president. To my utter surprise, my bishop lost the file containing my passport and medical records. This was a huge ordeal for me. That night, I got on my knees and cried my heart out, pleading with God to make it possible for us to find the file. After my prayer, I told Heavenly Father that if we did not find the file, I would work on another application no matter how long it would take.
A few weeks later, a miracle happened: my file was found at the premises of my stake president’s company. The security guard had been keeping the file all this while since he did not know the owner.
This experience strengthened my faith in Christ, that He is mighty to save.

My mother also taught me in her own unique ways. She understood the importance of teaching us through action, not lectures. I remember occasions when my brother and I would play outside. We would be enjoying ourselves when we heard my mother call. When we stopped and I came into the house to attend to her call, sometimes she would ask me to grab her something that was close to where she was sitting.
I would obey and then wait to hear the real reason she called. When she didn’t speak up, I asked, “What else do you need?” And she would reply, “That’s it.” I would wonder why she didn’t just get the thing for herself, why she wasted energy calling me into the house.
I didn’t understand then, but she was teaching me about serving others. Later in life, I came to understand that serving others almost always involves giving up something that I prefer to do. She was teaching me through life, not lectures, that family and obedience are important and that we are stronger when we help each other.

Carlitos wiped the tears from his eyes. His mamá had been sick for many months. At last Papá had convinced her to go to the city, many kilometers from their small village in Chile, and see a doctor. After many tests, the doctor said that Carlitos’s mamá had cancer.
Mamá refused to feel sorry for herself. “I still have much to do,” she said.
One day, two young norteamericanos (North Americans) appeared at the door of their small home. “We are from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints,” one said in halting Spanish.
Mamá listened intently and occasionally asked questions. She accepted the young men’s message immediately. “It is the truth,” she said.
Despite the disease that caused her much pain, Mamá was determined to be baptized and confirmed.
On Saturday morning the family traveled to the small meetinghouse where Elder Metzer baptized her. She shivered as she stepped from the baptismal font.
“Mamá, you are cold,” Carlitos said and wrapped his arms around her waist. “You must go home and get warm.”
Mamá shook her head. “It is not enough. I will stay until I am confirmed. How can I be cold when the gospel warms me?” She was confirmed a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Mamá was not content with just that. She was determined that Papá and Carlitos learn of the restored gospel as she had. “If you will pray, you will know the truth of which the missionaries speak,” she told them.
The elders taught them the gospel of Jesus Christ. Papá would have to give up his cigarettes. Carlitos listened to the elders’ teachings and felt peace wrap around his heart. He began to understand the warmth that Mamá had described.
Within a month Papá had stopped smoking. Shortly afterward both Papá and Carlitos were baptized and confirmed. A few weeks later Papá received the Aaronic Priesthood. Carlitos would have to wait three more years before he could receive the priesthood.
Mamá was very weak, but she always managed to go to church and visit those in the village who were sick.
“We are members of God’s Church, but it is not enough,” Mamá told Papá and Carlitos one night.
“What must we do now?” Carlitos asked. He loved learning about the gospel and wanted to live it in every way.
“We must be sealed in the temple,” Mamá said.
The temple in Santiago was the closest one to their home. But they did not have enough money to travel there. Any extra money Papá earned went to buy medicine for Mamá.
So Mamá started a temple jar. She placed it by the door. The coins she collected grew until the family had enough money to make the trip. In the temple their family was sealed for time and all eternity.
Mamá glowed with happiness. “It is enough,” she said.

About that time I was waiting in a doctor’s office, and I noticed that the young lady seated next to me had opened a book with a blue cover. The book’s text was written in columns like the Bible. I was curious to know if it was the Bible, but I also wanted to get back to the comic book I had been reading.
I directed my eyes to the blue book and read a word at the top of the page: Alma. I made an effort to remember that name from my Bible reading, then went back to my comic book. But the blue book continued to attract me, and once again I directed my eyes to that mysterious book.
When the young lady noticed my interest, I asked if the book was the Bible. She answered no and asked me what church I belonged to. I told her none, because I didn’t know which one was true.
That night I couldn’t stop thinking about that strange book. I didn’t know its name, because the young lady had said only that it belonged to the Mormon Church. I told my friend Ghersi about it, and he offered to get me a copy. Several weeks went by, and then one afternoon he handed me a book without a cover and with worn pages. All he said was, “Here’s the book.”
That afternoon I opened the book and read the testimony of Joseph Smith. I felt that it was what I had wanted to know; the feeling became stronger when I read about the visit of the angel Moroni. Unable to contain my excitement, I arose from my chair and shouted, “This is what I was looking for! Here is the truth!” I read the first chapters of 1 Nephi very slowly. I felt that I understood them as I had never understood a book before.

“I remember going to see my grandfather in Pima, Arizona. He and Grandma had a home on a hill. When my family went to see them, Grandma would fix us huge meals, and Grandpa would borrow some horses and take us kids riding. Afterward Grandpa would talk to each child alone, treating us as if we were terribly important. I decided that I was his favorite grandchild. Years later, my cousin Eddie Kimball said he’d decided the same thing. Grandpa had a way of making you feel not just special but truly noble.”

Shortly after finishing my mission, I met a friend who had grown up in the same ward and attended the same schools I had. We had shared many experiences through the years. However, he chose not to answer the Lord’s call to serve a mission. At the time of our reunion he was on a 30-day leave from the army and was on his way to the combat zone of Vietnam.
He told me, “The dumbest three things I ever did in my life were quitting college, joining the army, and getting married (his wife had divorced him within the first year of their marriage). Not only that, but I did them all in the same week!”
“Why?” I asked.
“I was mad at my mother,” he answered. We looked at each other for a few moments and then began to laugh. “I sure fixed her, didn’t I?” he said. “I sure fixed her.”
Now that it was too late, he realized that his spiritual blind spot came in the form of anger. His eagerness to show his mother that he was in charge of his own life led him to pursue a course that he later regretted and that led him away from Church activity.

That diversity and harmony are also reflected in the Church there. For example, when the new family history center opened last year, Brother Rajamohan, an Indian, eagerly took a seat at a microfilm reader to see what genealogical records were available. “I have many ancestors who lived in southern India,” he said. “I can finally start finding their records.” The woman who helped him was Chinese. She knew a lot about Chinese genealogies but almost nothing about Indian records. She did as much as she could, though, showing her friend how to use the readers and what records were available from India. When the first records showed on the microfilm reader screen, Brother Rajamohan exclaimed, “Oh no! They’re all in Hindi. Am I going to have to learn Hindi, too?” Most Indians in Singapore speak Tamil, a language common to southern India and Sri Lanka.

Recently I received a letter from a fine young man in the missionary training center in Provo, Utah. The story of his commitment, in essence, goes like this:

“Swimming has been one of the most important things in my life, and my family has made incredible sacrifices in order for me to excel. I can remember getting up at 4:00 A.M. every morning, along with my dad, who would take me to my workout. And every afternoon my parents would come and pick me up. It was very expensive going to championship meets in many parts of the country, but somehow, my parents always managed to help me attend.
“Well, I did quite well, and last year I qualified for the Olympic trials. I had been swimming on the University of Arizona swim team, and had some of the fastest times in the country. At the same time, I was trying to decide about a mission.
“I only had one year of eligibility left, and in that year I would be captain of the swim team. Two years of a full-ride scholarship were also available to me if I stayed. If I left to serve, I’d lose them. While I was swimming over ten miles a day in preparation for the Olympic trials, however, I decided to send in my mission papers.
“Soon I found myself in Austin, at the trials. My team was among the most elite to go, and about eight of us had times good enough to make the Olympics. Things didn’t go well for me, though, and I failed to make the team. The goal I’d worked for all my life, the goal my family had come from across the country to see me achieve, was now out of reach. I wanted to jump right back in the pool and start training for the 1992 Olympics.
“Then I remembered I’d sent in my mission papers. How could I leave a loser, though? My coach told me he knew I could break the records I wanted in the next year, and that if I left, I would be throwing away everything I’d worked all my life for.
“The following week was agonizing. I was pulled in many directions. I talked to my leaders and prayed and prayed. Finally, I had the overwhelming feeling that now was the time to go on my mission. You don’t argue with the Spirit.
“I’m on my mission now. I have no regrets about this choice, and I’m happier than ever. Sure, it’s been tough, but when you lose your life in Christ, you find it. I know what it’s like to have potential to do something and not quite make it. It’s a small taste of torment. I don’t want this to happen when I face my God at Judgment Day. It takes commitment.
“We must decide now, I believe. I didn’t ask myself every morning if I wanted to go to practice or to sleep. I decided beforehand, and there was no choice to be made when morning came. We have to be committed. But to be committed 100 percent, we need the help of the Lord. You need to have the discipline and commitment to do the things you’ve promised, long after the emotion under which you made the commitment has died.”

And what about family service? The opportunities abound. In December 1999 our family had a unique experience. Between Christmas and New Year’s we were able to go to Belfast in northern Ireland to work on a house for Habitat for Humanity. It was a different kind of Christmas for us, but the privilege to be together and to work with both Catholic and Protestant families to help build Habitat houses was a unique opportunity. We saw how providing decent, safe, affordable housing could bridge the gap between different people and cultures, and it provided a common bond for our family through service and love. It was a Christmas we will never forget.

In a town in Brazil, the missionaries were teaching Helvécio Martins, now a member of the Seventy, and his wife that Jesus Christ was the Son of God and that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was His church on the earth. Elder Martins said, “A marvelous feeling that we never before had experienced filled our hearts, certifying the truthfulness of the message.” (See Ensign, November 1990, page 26.) Soon afterward, they were baptized.

“All seven of my cousins are going to be at my grandmother’s house for Mother’s Day,” Sarah said as she watered Mrs. Martin’s seedlings. “We always have a picnic lunch in the backyard.”
“That sounds like a lot of fun,” Mrs. Martin replied, pulling a tiny weed from a pot.
Every spring Sarah and Mrs. Martin, who lived next door, planted pumpkin, watermelon, and squash seeds in clay pots on Mrs. Martin’s sun porch. Later they would move the little sprouts to the garden in the backyard.
“What are you doing for Mother’s Day?” Sarah asked.
“I’m not sure. When is it, anyway?”
Sarah couldn’t believe that a grown-up didn’t know the date of Mother’s Day. At lunch she told Mom what Mrs. Martin had said.
“Well, Sarah, Mrs. Martin no longer has a mother or grandmother who’s alive,” Mom explained. “And since she has no children or grandchildren, it’s not surprising that she wouldn’t think about Mother’s Day.”
Sarah chewed her tomato sandwich thoughtfully. She understood what her mother had said, but something still seemed wrong.
She looked out the window and saw Mrs. Martin feeding dog biscuits to Mr. Anderson’s cocker spaniels. Mrs. Martin didn’t even have a dog, but she always kept a jar of dog treats for any neighborhood dogs who might stop by. And for the dog owners, Mrs. Martin always had a big basket filled with apples or pears.
“It just isn’t right,” Sarah said. “Somebody that nice should celebrate Mother’s Day.”
“I think you’re right,” Mom agreed.
Sarah went up to her room. Her desk was covered with art supplies for the cards she was making for her mom and grandma. She had already sprinkled green and pink glitter on the edges of two cards. She picked up a fresh sheet of paper and started writing.
Mothers and grandmothers are nice.
They give us help when we need help.
They talk to us about important things.
They find fun things for us to do.
They make good things for us to eat.
They give us hugs.
You do all these things, so I am saying Happy Mother’s Day to you!
Love, Sarah
Sarah worked on the card most of the afternoon, drawing vegetables all around its edges. Mrs. Martin always said that she would rather grow vegetables than flowers. She thought pumpkins and watermelons were “gorgeous.”
Then Sarah decorated an envelope to match and carefully printed “To Mrs. Martin” on the outside.
“It’s almost ready,” she said to Scooter, the tabby cat who had been watching from his perch on the windowsill.
“Mom,” Sarah called downstairs. “I need to call Grandma.”
“OK.”
After Sarah made her call, she turned over the card for Mrs. Martin and wrote on the back. Then she put it in the envelope and bounced down the stairs and out the back door.
Mrs. Martin was putting seeds into the bird feeder. “Hello, Sarah,” she called.
“Hi,” Sarah said. “This is for you.” She handed the card to Mrs. Martin.
“Should I open it now?”
“Yes. It’s a Mother’s Day card.”
“For me?” Mrs. Martin asked with surprise. “But today isn’t Mother’s Day!”
“No, but this card has to be opened early.”
Mrs. Martin opened the card and read it slowly. Then she turned it over to read what Sarah had carefully written on the back:
You are invited to be
an Honorary Mother
at a picnic at Grandma’s house
on Mother’s Day—
which is next Sunday.
Please come.
Mrs. Martin smiled. “Thank you, Sarah. Now we both know what I’ll be doing for Mother’s Day!”

Some years ago I attended one of our worship services in Toronto, Canada. A 14-year-old girl was the speaker. She said that she had been discussing religion with one of her friends at school. Her friend said to her, “What religion do you belong to?”
She replied, “The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, or Mormons.”
Her friend replied, “I know that church, and I know it’s not true.”
“How do you know?” came the reply.
“Because,” said her friend, “I have researched it.”
“Have you read the Book of Mormon?”
“No,” came the answer. “I haven’t.”
Then this sweet young girl responded, “Then you haven’t researched my church, because I have read every page of the Book of Mormon and I know it’s true.”

Through my experience in Church service, I have witnessed great miracles and cherished memories that have helped me recognize the Father’s love and guidance. A few years ago, as a young bishop, I remember planning to visit some of my ward members with the stake presidency. On this particular occasion, I had a powerful impression to visit the home of a young man I had not met yet. I had just been called as bishop, and his family had not been previously attending.

When we arrived at the family home, the mother was overjoyed to see us. This was a family of two good parents, two daughters, and a son, who was a future Aaronic Priesthood holder. We introduced ourselves and told her that her son was a member of the quorum I presided over. After that visit, the family began attending church and following the covenant path.

As a family, they made covenants in the temple, the three children served full-time missions, and they continued to strive to live the gospel. I know that Heavenly Father knew them, loved them, and cared enough about them to send inspiration to a young, inexperienced bishop to find them and invite them back to the fold.

This reality has helped impel me at different times either to repentance or to avoid sin altogether. On one occasion in connection with a home sale, there was an error in the documentation, and I found myself in a position where I was legally entitled to get more money from the buyer. My real estate agent asked if I wanted to keep the money since it was my right to do so. I thought about facing the Lord, the personification of justice, and trying to explain that I had a legal right to take advantage of the buyer and his mistake. I couldn’t see myself being very convincing, especially since I would probably be asking for mercy for myself at the same time. I knew I could not live with myself if I were so dishonorable as to keep the money. I replied to the agent that we would stick with the bargain as we all understood it originally. It is worth a great deal more to me than any sum of money to know that I have nothing to repent of in that transaction.

My grandfather used to graze his cattle each summer in the beautiful, lush, high mountain valleys east of our town in central Utah. However, the cattle craved and needed supplemental nutrients from licking rock salt. The rock salt came from a salt mine some distance away. Grandfather replenished the salt at the salt licks by putting a packsaddle on a sturdy horse and filling the packsaddle with rock salt. I called the packhorse Slowpoke for good reason. Grandfather put me on Slowpoke with the saddle loaded with rock salt. He gave me the reins so I could guide the horse up the mountain following Grandfather on his horse.
My horse Slowpoke was slow, but I didn’t push him because he carried such a heavy load. It took a full day to ride up the mountain to the salt licks and to unload the rock salt from the pack animal. As the day got warmer, my sweaty legs would sting as they rubbed against the lumps of rock salt in the packsaddle. It was a joy when we crossed a stream and I could get off the horse and get rid of the sting by washing and drying my legs.
Grandfather would sing most of the day. Mostly he sang the songs of Zion. But one song he sang that impressed me greatly was “Show me your companions, and I will tell you what you are.” Looking back on it, taking salt to the mountain valley was an enjoyable experience, while the additional nutrients from the rock salt fortified the cattle.

Blessed also with the gift of prophecy, he influenced the lives of many. On one occasion, he returned from a three-month trip to another island and saw preparations for a fiafia (celebration) in progress to celebrate the marriage of a young man and a young woman. As he interviewed the young woman, he suddenly told her, without any other explanation, that if she married the young man, she would soon be saddened.
Opapo and Toai were not spared personal trials. Eleven of their fourteen children died before adulthood. However, through it all they seemed to increase in humility, prayerfulness, and industry. Opapo reserved 5:00 A.M. and 5:00 P.M. for prayer, but frequently prayed at other times as well. And he always provided, not only for his own family, but also for others, especially widows and the fatherless.

As an introduction to a third choice, I now relate a personal experience about others who set a path for me to follow. I attended graduate school at Indiana University. My first day in an economics class was with a well-known professor who had the reputation of being tough, demanding, and, for a number of other reasons, was somewhat feared. As this was the first day in his class, he asked each of us to stand and introduce ourselves, giving our name and the university we graduated from. When it was my turn, I gave my name and said I had just graduated from Brigham Young University.

The professor stopped the introductions and said something like this, "It is wonderful to have another great student from Brigham Young University in this class." Now, he did not say this about the very capable students from Indiana, Minnesota, Harvard, or other respected universities. He then asked, "Do you know 'so and so' from BYU?" I knew him. He went on, "Do you know 'so and so' from BYU?" I knew him. Then he named others, some of whom I knew and others I did not. Then he said they had all been outstanding students and great examples.

As I savored the undeserved limelight for those few moments, I was grateful for a string of LDS students who had preceded me at Indiana University. I was grateful for the impressions and influence these students had made on the life of this professor and probably others. I was determined not to mar the reputation of myself or those who had left such a legacy of example. This legacy was a motivation to me throughout my schooling at Indiana and my professional life. These accolades came because of a value system reflected in the lives of the students, a value system based upon the principles and doctrines of the gospel, a value system included and taught in the curriculum of BYU. At Indiana, I was grateful for the footprints that had been left and the candles that had been lit. You also can leave footprints and light candles.

I know a man who studied for the ministry. Then just before his ordination he dropped out because there were so many unanswered questions. He still regarded himself as a devout, if somewhat disillusioned, Christian. He found another profession, married, and was raising a family when our missionaries found him.
He made a very superficial study of the doctrines of the Church and found them tolerable enough. The fundamentals of Christianity were visible. But he was most interested in programs and activities that would benefit his family.
It was after he was baptized that he made the discovery of his life. To his surprise he found, underlying the programs of the Church, a solid foundation of doctrine. He had no idea of the depth and breadth and height of our theology. When once he moved from interest in the programs to a study of the gospel of Jesus Christ, he found answers which explained to his full satisfaction the deep questions that had left him unable to accept ordination as a clergyman.
One doctrine was completely new to him. Although he was a student of the Bible, he had not found it there until he read the other revelations. Then the Bible was clear to him and he understood.
The doctrine is so logical, so reasonable, and explains so many things, that it is a wonder that the Christian world rejected it. It is so essential a part of the equation of life that, left out, life just cannot add up, it remains a mystery.
The doctrine is simply this: life did not begin with mortal birth. We lived in spirit form before we entered mortality. We are spiritually the children of God.
This doctrine of premortal life was known to ancient Christians. For nearly five hundred years the doctrine was taught, but it was then rejected as a heresy by a clergy that had slipped into the Dark Ages of apostasy.
Once they rejected this doctrine, the doctrine of premortal life, and the doctrine of redemption for the dead, they could never unravel the mystery of life. They became like a man trying to assemble a strand of pearls on a string that was too short. There is no way they can put them all together.
Why is it so strange a thought that we lived as spirits before entering mortality? Christian doctrine proclaims the Resurrection, meaning that we will live after mortal death. If we live beyond death, why should it be strange that we lived before birth?
The Christian world in general accepts the idea that our condition in the Resurrection will be determined by our actions in this life. Why can they not believe that some circumstances in this life were determined by our actions before coming into mortality?
The scriptures teach this doctrine, the doctrine of premortal life. For His own reasons, the Lord provides answers to some questions, with pieces placed here and there throughout the scriptures. We are to find them; we are to earn them. In that way sacred things are hidden from the insincere.
Of the many verses revealing this doctrine, I will quote two short phrases from the testimony of John in the ninety-third section of the Doctrine and Covenants. The first, speaking of Christ, says plainly, “He was in the beginning, before the world was.” (D&C 93:7.)
And the other, referring to us, says with equal clarity, “Ye were also in the beginning with the Father.” (D&C 93:23.)
Essential facts about our premortal life have been revealed. Although they are sketchy, they unravel the mystery of life.
When we comprehend the doctrine of premortal life, we know that we are the children of God, that we lived with him in spirit form before entering mortality.
We know that this life is a test, that life did not begin with birth, nor will it end with death.
Then life begins to make sense, with meaning and purpose even in all of the chaotic mischief that mankind creates for itself.
Imagine that you are attending a football game. The teams seem evenly matched. One team has been trained to follow the rules; the other, to do just the opposite. They are committed to cheat and disobey every rule of sportsmanlike conduct.
While the game ends in a tie, it is determined that it must continue until one side wins decisively.
Soon the field is a quagmire.
Players on both sides are being ground into the mud. The cheating of the opposing team turns to brutality.
Players are carried off the field. Some have been injured critically; others, it is whispered, fatally. It ceases to be a game and becomes a battle.
You become very frustrated and upset. “Why let this go on? Neither team can win. It must be stopped.”
Imagine that you confront the sponsor of the game and demand that he stop this useless, futile battle. You say it is senseless and without purpose. Has he no regard at all for the players?
He calmly replies that he will not call the game. You are mistaken. There is a great purpose in it. You have not understood.
He tells you that this is not a spectator sport—it is for the participants. It is for their sake that he permits the game to continue. Great benefit may come to them because of the challenges they face.
He points to players sitting on the bench, suited up, eager to enter the game. “When each one of them has been in, when each has met the day for which he has prepared so long and trained so hard, then, and only then, will I call the game.”
Until then, it may not matter which team seems to be ahead. The present score is really not crucial. There are games within games, you know. Whatever is happening to the team, each player will have his day.
Those players on the team that keeps the rules will not be eternally disadvantaged by the appearance that their team somehow always seems to be losing.
In the field of destiny, no team or player will be eternally disadvantaged because they keep the rules. They may be cornered or misused, even defeated for a time. But individual players on that team, regardless of what appears on the scoreboard, may already be victorious.
Each player will have a test sufficient to his needs; how each responds is the test.
When the game is finally over, you and they will see purpose in it all, may even express gratitude for having been on the field during the darkest part of the contest.
I do not think the Lord is quite so hopeless about what’s going on in the world as we are. He could put a stop to all of it any moment. But He will not! Not until every player has a chance to meet the test for which we were preparing before the world was, before we came into mortality.
The same testing in troubled times can have quite opposite effects on individuals. Three verses from the Book of Mormon, which is another testament of Christ, teach us that “they had wars, and bloodsheds, and famine, and affliction, for the space of many years.
“And there had been murders, and contentions, and dissensions, and all manner of iniquity among the people of Nephi; nevertheless for the righteous’ sake, yea, because of the prayers of the righteous, they were spared.
“But behold, because of the exceedingly great length of the war between the Nephites and the Lamanites many had become hardened, because of the exceedingly great length of the war; and many were softened because of their afflictions, insomuch that they did humble themselves before God, even in the depth of humility.” (Alma 62:39–41; italics added.)
Surely you know some whose lives have been filled with adversity who have been mellowed and strengthened and refined by it, while others have come away from the same test bitter and blistered and unhappy.
There is no way to make sense out of life without a knowledge of the doctrine of premortal life.
The idea that mortal birth is the beginning is preposterous. There is no way to explain life if you believe that.
The notion that life ends with mortal death is ridiculous. There is no way to face life if you believe that.
When we understand the doctrine of premortal life, then things fit together and make sense. We then know that little boys and little girls are not monkeys, nor are their parents, nor were theirs, to the very beginning generation.
We are the children of God, created in his image.
Our child-parent relationship to God is clear.
The purpose for the creation of this earth is clear.
The testing that comes in mortality is clear.
The need for a redeemer is clear.
When we do understand that principle of the gospel, we see a Heavenly Father and a Son; we see an atonement and a redemption.
We understand why ordinances and covenants are necessary.
We understand the necessity for baptism by immersion for the remission of sins. We understand why we renew that covenant by partaking of the sacrament.
I have but touched upon the doctrine of premortal life. We cannot, in these brief conference talks, do more than that. Oh, if we but had a day, or even an hour, to speak of it.
I assure you there is, underlying the programs and activities of this church, a depth and breadth and height of doctrine that answers the questions of life.
When one knows the gospel of Jesus Christ, there is cause to rejoice. The words joy and rejoice appear through the scriptures repetitively. Latter-day Saints are happy people. When one knows the doctrine, parenthood becomes a sacred obligation, the begetting of life a sacred privilege. Abortion would be unthinkable. No one would think of suicide. And all the frailties and problems of men would fade away.
We have cause to rejoice and we do rejoice, even celebrate.
“The glory of God is intelligence, or, in other words, light and truth.” (D&C 93:36.)
God bless us that we and all who will hear His message can celebrate the Light! Of him I bear witness, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

It took me until I was 15 to publicly bear my testimony. I had never doubted the truthfulness of the gospel, but my first year of seminary gave me the beginnings of my own testimony of the Church and the Book of Mormon.
During the summer after that first year of seminary, our stake held a youth conference at a campsite. The conference concluded with a testimony meeting in which I had no intention of bearing my testimony. Soon the Spirit began to whisper that I needed to get up and bear my testimony. I suppressed it, but I had a continued feeling that I should get up. I finally decided that I would bear my testimony, and as I did a warm feeling came over me so much so that I felt a burning in my bosom. I had a fire inside my heart.
I have since learned the importance of bearing my testimony, as every time I do my testimony grows. I will continue to make bearing my testimony a lifelong practice.