Gospel Story Finder

He bears his missionary testimony as a special witness without the fear of man. I have observed it. At the Copenhagen Denmark Area Conference held August 3–5, 1976, President Kimball went to see Thorvaldsen’s beautiful sculpture The Christus, the resurrected Christ, which has been reproduced, as you know, for the visitors’ centers in Salt Lake City, Los Angeles, and New Zealand. After a few spiritual moments admiring The Christus, President Kimball bore his testimony to the caretaker who stood nearby. As he turned to the statue of Peter and pointed to the large set of keys in Peter’s right hand, he proclaimed: “The keys of priesthood authority which Peter held as President of the Church I now hold as President of the Church in this dispensation.” Then he stated to the caretaker, “You work every day with Apostles in stone, but today you are in the presence of living Apostles.” He then introduced President N. Eldon Tanner, Elder Thomas S. Monson, and Elder Boyd K. Packer. He presented the caretaker with a Book of Mormon in Danish, and bore his testimony of the Prophet Joseph Smith. The caretaker was moved to tears in acknowledgment of the Spirit he felt in the presence of a prophet and Apostles. He acknowledged to me as we left the church, “Today I have been in the presence of servants of God.”

After I graduated high school, I moved out to Utah, USA. Nicole was already there, and she was anxiously waiting for me to get there so I could start taking the missionary lessons. I had a plan to be baptized on my 19th birthday—just six weeks away—and Nicole assured me she would be right there with me the whole time.
When the missionaries began to teach me, I soon realized how little I really knew about the Church. I had read and loved the Book of Mormon, but suddenly they were telling me about the gift of the Holy Ghost, the plan of salvation, becoming like God, and so many other new things. It was too much to digest all at once.
But Nicole knew me well. She would help explain what the elders were teaching in a way she knew I’d understand. In those first lessons, her patient explanations were the reason I stayed.
Nicole spiritually supported me like that until the day I was baptized—and after. She helped the ward members and missionaries plan so I could be baptized on my 19th birthday. When I came out of the water and saw dozens of people beaming at me, I didn’t feel so alone anymore. I will never forget that feeling of finally belonging to the Lord and His Church.

On her way home from practice, Jillian saw her friend Mei. They were in the same Primary class. But Mei hadn’t come to Primary for a while.

Jillian smiled at Mei. “Hi, Mei! I’ve missed you at Primary. Are you OK?”

Mei stared down at her shoes. “My mom doesn’t want to go to church.”

“How come?”

“I don’t know.” Mei lifted her head. “Well, I have to go.”

Jillian waved and watched Mei walk away. How can I help Mei? she wondered.

When Jillian got home, she played some Primary songs on her ukulele. Then she invited her brothers to sing along. They sang until Mom called them for dinner.

“I’m going to visit Sister Aurea tomorrow,” Mom said.

“Sister Aurea is Mei’s mom, right?” Jillian asked. “Can I go with you? Mei hasn’t been coming to Primary. And when I saw her today, she seemed kind of sad.”

“Sure, you can come,” Mom said.

“I’ll bring my ukulele! I can play Primary songs. I bet she misses singing them,” said Jillian.

When they got to Mei’s house the next day, Jillian gave Mei a big hug. While their moms talked, the girls went outside. Jillian played her ukulele, and Mei picked the songs. They had fun laughing and singing together until it was time for Jillian to go.

“It was great to see you,” Jillian said. “We’ve missed you in Primary.”

“Yeah, I wish I could come. Maybe I’ll ask my mom again.”

The next Sunday, Mei was at church. Jillian sat beside her. “I’m so happy you could come,” she said.

Mei grinned. “Me too.”

That night as she lay in bed, Jillian thought about Mei and her football team. She was happy to be part of a team, just like she was happy to be part of Primary. They all helped each other. Jillian was glad she could help her friends, whether it was at church or on the field.

Steve was tall, handsome, age 17, and a senior in high school. I was two years younger and thought I was madly in love with him. He liked me too, and I thought that was great. We didn’t date because I wasn’t old enough; we didn’t go to the same school either. But he did call me on the phone, and I did get to see him at stake dances twice a month. I envisioned a romance that would last forever.
Steve wasn’t the most active churchgoer around, but I just knew I could help him change. I prayed that Heavenly Father would inspire me about how to help Steve become active in the Church. But most of all, I prayed for things to work out between us.
I imagined him going on a mission while I finished high school. I dreamed we would write faithfully, and everything would be so romantic. I imagined him returning home, surprising me with flowers. We would be so in love. He would be ready to go to college and excel. We would be married in the temple. Life would be bliss. I wanted it more than anything.
Then, after three months of this fantasy romance, Steve showed up at a dance with alcohol on his breath. This development didn’t fit my dream. He told me I didn’t understand him at all. The phone calls stopped.
All I could do was cry and pray. I did a lot of both. For months I prayed that Heavenly Father would inspire Steve to give me another chance. I will be more tolerant, I thought. I will be more understanding. With me he will change.
No one is perfect, I told myself. He just needs more time to grow up. My prayers were pleading and demanding. I didn’t even come close to listening to the Spirit to understand the will of my Heavenly Father.
Fortunately, Steve never did show an interest in me again. Later, while I was still in high school, I heard that Steve’s girlfriend was pregnant. They got married, but now they are divorced. I’m sorry for Steve, but I’m also thankful my prayers at age 15 weren’t answered the way I wanted them to be. I’m grateful my life has gone the way it has—without him.
Since then I have served a mission and graduated from college. I was married in the temple to a returned missionary who is 100 times more wonderful than any man I ever imagined in my teenage dreams. And unlike Steve or some of the other young men I dated, my husband didn’t need to change the way he was living to make me happy. He was just right the way he was.
Today, I thank my Heavenly Father for what I thought were unanswered prayers. At age 15 I thought I was asking for a good thing—now I know better. I’m so thankful for a loving Heavenly Father who knew better and did not answer those prayers the way I wanted, even though I felt hurt at the time. He made my dreams come true in a much grander way than I ever imagined.

Mercy R. Thompson, the wife of Robert B. Thompson, one of the prophet's hard-working secretaries reports:
"I saw him by the bedside of Emma, his wife, in sickness, exhibiting all the solicitude and sympathy possible for the tenderest of hearts and the most affectionate of natures to feel. And by the deathbed of my beloved companion, I saw him stand in sorrow, reluctantly submitting to the decree of Providence, while the tears of love and sympathy freely flowed. Joseph took charge of the funeral ceremonies, strictly adhering to my husband's wish that there should be no military or other display at his burial as had been but a short time before on the occasion of the burial of Joseph's brother, Don Carlos.
"This indeed was a time of sorrow, but I can never forget the tender sympathy and brotherly kindness he ever showed toward me and my fatherless child. When riding with him and his wife Emma in their carriage I have known him to alight and gather prairie flowers for my little girl."

There have been times in my life when I felt as if there was no hope for me to be happy or to return to our Father in Heaven. Several years ago I was disfellowshipped from the Church. I had lived a life of pride and sin and had suffered greatly because of my actions. My engagement to the woman I loved didn’t work out, my relationships with others were suffering, and I wasn’t happy.
Although I wished I had chosen to be humble long before then, I was compelled to be humble and to seek to do the will of the Lord. I started to read the scriptures more frequently, to pray more often, and to seek to serve others. I tried to repair the relationships I had neglected for so long, including my relationship with Heavenly Father. I truly desired a change of heart.
It was early morning as I drove to school one day, and the sun was not yet up. The eastern horizon glowed, and the western horizon was dark, with a full moon descending behind it. I had developed the habit of conversing with my Heavenly Father while driving. As I prayed during this car ride, my mind was enlightened, and a new hope was placed within my heart.
I realized that my life was glowing and getting increasingly brighter, just like the eastern horizon. The darkness was dissipating, and my sins, which were as great as that full moon, were descending. They were not yet gone, but I knew that they soon would be if I continued my sincere repentance. I had hope that someday my life would be as bright as noonday.
With time and as I prayed for love for my Heavenly Father and others, I became more humble. Increased humility led me to serve God and others more selflessly, and my hope for eternal life and a better future was renewed and replenished. As that hope grew, so did my faith that my Savior, Jesus Christ, is mighty to save and to cleanse me from all unrighteousness. I know the words of Mormon are true: “Ye shall have hope through the atonement of Christ and the power of his resurrection, to be raised unto life eternal” (Moroni 7:41).

From age 8 to age 18, I reflected a lot about getting baptized. But it took me a long time because I had a lot of things I needed to change in my life, even though I tried to live good principles.
At the age of 18, I met the missionaries in Cayo’s home. The missionaries taught me the lessons to prepare me for baptism. They helped me, and their message touched my heart. During this time, my mother and my little sister were introduced to the missionaries. They were baptized a few months before I was. I was baptized on March 10, 2007.
It took the time that it took, more than 10 years, but finally he was baptized.
“It’s interesting to see how the Lord does things,” Cayo says. It took more than 10 years for Anthony to be baptized, but in that time, Anthony gained a strong testimony.

Elder Meurs told the story of his parents, who lived in the area, joining The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in 1958.

Fred and Lois Meurs, strong Christians from different faiths were actively searching for someone to answer their gospel questions. After carefully studying the New Testament, they began to search for a church that had teachings that were consistent with Jesus’s teachings.

They had questions about the purpose of life, priesthood authority, what happens when we die, ordinances like baptism, and the role of prophets and apostles. They had spoken to the religious leaders of the community, but no one could give them the answers they were searching for. They began to earnestly pray for someone to answer their questions.

That same week, two full-time missionaries, Elder Jones and Elder Erikson, knocked on their door and said they had a message about Jesus Christ to share with them. Fred and Lois asked them all their questions, and the missionaries answered every one. Three weeks later the Meurs were baptised and confirmed. Some other families joined soon after, and the first Warrnambool Branch was formed.

It happens almost every Sunday evening. After church and after the dinner dishes are washed, nine-year-old Xinia (pronounced ZEEN-ya) gets out a pencil and several sheets of lined paper and starts writing her letters.
She sits at the kitchen table, absorbed with her writing. Sometimes she’ll look up to ask someone how to spell a word or to say something she remembers about the person she is writing to. But during most of her letter-writing time, she seems to be in her own world—or in the world of the person who is lucky enough to get her letter.
Who is she writing to? “The missionaries,” she answers with a smile. The letter she is working on now is for Elder Ed McCoy, a close friend of the family, who is serving a mission in California. Ed is the only member of his family who belongs to the Church, and Xinia makes sure that he gets at least one letter every week—hers.
“He used to come to our house for Sunday dinner,” she says. After he left for his mission, Sunday evening just didn’t seem complete without visiting with Ed—even if only through a letter. Before long, she started writing letters to the other missionaries, too. Now Xinia writes a letter nearly every Sunday evening to all six missionaries from Belize City. Sometimes she also writes to missionaries who served in Belize and have now returned to their homes. Every Monday morning, her mother mails a stack of Xinia’s letters to places such as Honduras, England, Canada, and the United States.

I was once driving home with my friends when someone brought up the subject of girls and asked “Whom do you like?” The young men in the front of the car had begun to mention names of young women, and then they asked me whom I liked.
“I don’t really like anyone in that way,” I answered.
That’s when the name of a young woman whom I used to be good friends with came up. They began to mention her name and insult her. I immediately felt the temptation to insult her as well and to agree with what they were saying. But I held my tongue. Slowly what they said got worse until I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Stop,” I said quietly. “She’s not that way at all. She’s nice when you get to know her.”
They didn’t listen and continued to insult her. Again the temptation arose to insult her. “Why would she care? She doesn’t even have to know,” I thought to myself. I just listened for a moment.
“She is so weird,” one of the guys said.
By this time I’d had enough.
“You need to stop what you’re saying and be nice to her!” I said. “She has a really hard life, and insulting her even though she can’t hear you doesn’t make her life easier!”
Silence filled the car. I felt so alone, so strange.
When I got home, I thought and prayed about what had just happened. I began to feel better, and then I felt really good about my decision to defend rather than belittle this young woman.

We are grateful President Dallin H. Oaks will be our concluding speaker. When I was a new freshman at Brigham Young University and President Oaks was the new president of Brigham Young University, we spoke together on a panel for parents and prospective students. As I waited nervously for the program to begin, President Oaks leaned over to assure me. With a warm smile, he said he was wearing a red tie because he was celebrating his 40th birthday and was feeling old. To me, as a new freshman, 40 did seem pretty old!

Nikko looked in the mirror and shook his shaggy head and roared. Then he picked up his long tail and flicked it like a whip.
“Honey, are you dressed yet?” His mother called from the kitchen. “It’s time to go.”
Nikko padded into the kitchen, carrying his tail in his hand.
“Please don’t eat me, brave king of the jungle,” Mother begged with a smile.
The lion bared his teeth and roared.
“Let’s get going, or you’ll be late for the school costume party,” Mother said. The lion crept to the car and then pounced inside.
* * * * * *
“Have fun at school, my brave lion,” Mother said as he bounded out of the car.
“Why, Nikko, don’t you look like a brave jungle beast!” His teacher smiled at him as he entered the classroom. “Go sit in the circle with the other children, and I’ll be there in a minute to tell you a story.”
The lion crept toward the other children. Nikko the little boy had always wanted to be Lissa’s friend, but he had been afraid to talk to her. But Nikko the brave lion was not afraid. He looked for Lissa and crouched down beside her. She was dressed like a princess in a sparkling gown. “You look pretty,” the lion whispered.
Princess Lissa smiled and tapped the lion’s shaggy head with her magic wand. “And I name you Nikko, the Wise Ruler of the Jungle.”
The lion pawed the air and roared softly.
* * * * * *
The next morning, Nikko stood in front of his mirror and roared. He shook his shaggy head and flicked his long tail.
“Honey, are you dressed yet?” Mother called.
Nikko padded into the kitchen with his tail in his hand.
Mother was rinsing the dishes at the sink. When she turned around, she exclaimed, “Oh! Oh my!”
The lion looked up and roared.
“You shouldn’t wear your costume today,” Mother said. “Yesterday was costume day. It’s all over now.”
“But I’m brave when I’m a lion,” Nikko told her.
“You’re my brave boy, even without your lion costume. Remember how you helped take care of your Grandpa when he came home from the hospital?”
“But my teacher thinks I’m a brave jungle beast when I’m wearing my lion costume.”
Mother slipped the furry mane off Nikko’s head. “Remember how you felt when you asked if you could help Uncle Jack build his deck? You don’t need a lion’s costume to feel brave.”
* * * * * *
Nikko went to school in his regular clothes. He could not flick his tail or shake his shaggy head or roar.
At recess, Nikko saw Lissa standing at the door to the playground. He still thought she looked pretty, even without her sparkling gown and magic wand. “You’d better go get your jacket and put it on,” Nikko warned her. “It’s going to rain.”
Lissa looked out at the dark sky. “Do you know what, Nikko? You’re wise even when you’re not dressed up like a lion.”
Brave, wise Nikko shook his head, roared softly, and padded out to the playground with his new friend.

My father also taught me a great lesson about tithing. For many years, we worked together at the same office. We traveled to work together in the car—a father and three sons. It gave us a chance to stay close and talk about the gospel. When we arrived at the office, our father always made certain that each of us began the day by reading the scriptures.
One day as we were traveling home, he surprised us with these words: “My sons, I paid my tithing today. I wrote ‘thank you’ on the tithing check. I am so grateful to the Lord for the blessings he has given to our family.” As sons, we were grateful for a father who not only taught us how to obey, but also that there is great joy in keeping the commandments. Many times while paying my own tithing, I have remembered my father and followed his example by adding the words thank you to the tithing check.

Perhaps I can illustrate how understanding the Father’s plan and the Savior’s divine mission empowers us to face life’s challenges.
In the summer of 2020, I started feeling pain in my left shoulder, and I could not figure out why. The pain wouldn’t go away, so finally, in late October, I visited with a doctor. He looked at an X-ray and suggested a CT scan. The next evening, the doctor called me at home—likely not a good sign—and told me that the CT scan had identified metastatic disease in my shoulder. In other words, he said I had cancer. He also said it appeared to have traveled to my shoulder from somewhere else in my body.
I got up from my chair, walked into the other room, and told Anne Marie I had cancer. That evening, our lives changed. Everything seemed to change.
I reached out to my father and asked if he would give me a blessing. He is 95 years old. We gathered as a family at my parents’ home. All our children joined us. It was a miracle that they were all in town. We were careful to wear our masks, except for in this picture.
Photograph by Busath Photography
I had hoped that, in the blessing, my father would strike the spot and command the cancer to be gone. But that is not the blessing he provided. He blessed me that the cancer would be identified, that there would be a course of treatment, that I would follow the course of treatment, and that I would be made whole.
From the moment he and my sons took their hands off my head, a feeling of peace settled on me. I knew that peaceful feeling came by the influence of the Holy Ghost.
For the next month, medically speaking, I could not see past the end of my feet. I knew I had cancer in my shoulder and in at least one other place in my body. I did not know what kind of cancer it was or how pervasive it was. I just did not know very much at all.
But this I did know: my father, accompanied by my four sons, had pronounced a blessing upon me by the authority of the Melchizedek Priesthood. I had great faith in the power of that blessing. I also had faith that the blessing was in keeping with the Lord’s will.
Throughout the month of November, the medical tests continued. As we waited for the results, Anne Marie and I talked a lot about the future and our faith in our Heavenly Father’s plan. We discussed the possibility that perhaps my stay in mortality would be a bit shorter than anticipated. But regardless of which side of the veil I would be on, it did not change our love for each other or our marriage or our family. It did not change our gratitude to Heavenly Father for the gift of His Son, Jesus Christ, and for the blessing of participating in this wonderful mortal experience.
In our prayers as a couple, we prayed that my life would be spared. But if the plan was that I be called home at this time, we would accept that as well. I also prayed that I could learn what the Lord wanted me to learn from this experience. I remembered Elder Neal A. Maxwell (1926–2004) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles saying on one occasion that the Lord gave him cancer so he could teach the people with authenticity. 1 I continue to ponder that.
As we waited for the diagnosis, I continued to feel at peace. I was very grateful for my father’s blessing. Spiritually speaking, he did strike the spot and make me whole. He healed me spiritually.
During all this, I felt the faith and prayers of friends, family, and loved ones. It is quite something to realize that your children, their spouses, and your grandchildren are praying for you with great faith. The missionaries and the Saints with whom we served in the Spain Barcelona Mission are also exercising their faith and prayers in my behalf. What greater blessings could there be? These prayers of faith and support from so many have created a giant tsunami of love that has been overwhelming to me.
At last, the diagnosis came. I have cancer in my right kidney, which has metastasized to my left shoulder. The cancer had already been in my shoulder for a year or so and therefore even longer in my kidney. For some reason, unknown to me, there is no cancer in my brain or lungs. The Lord is very kind. There is a course of treatment, I am following it, and I trust that in a year or so I will be made whole. “But if not” (Daniel 3:18), I am willing to accept the Lord’s will for me.
Now, I am not the only one with health challenges or worries or heartaches of different kinds. Like you, I have faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. Like you, I have faith in Heavenly Father’s plan. And like you, I have faith that “all things shall work together for your good, if ye walk uprightly and remember the covenant wherewith ye have covenanted one with another” (Doctrine and Covenants 90:24).
Our faith does not necessarily remove our trials. But it does give us the power and perspective to navigate those trials successfully.
Our Savior, who is our example in all things, has taught us how to endure adversity faithfully. Most poignant is His experience in Gethsemane:
“And he was withdrawn from them about a stone’s cast, and kneeled down, and prayed,
“Saying, Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me: nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done.
“And there appeared an angel unto him from heaven, strengthening him” (Luke 22:41–43; emphasis added).
The Father didn’t remove this cup of suffering, but He also didn’t forsake His Beloved Son. He sent an angel to strengthen Him, and with that strength the Savior was able to carry out the infinite Atonement.
Likewise, when we face challenges, the Father does not always remove the burden, but when we submit to His will, we can count on Him to give us strength equal to the challenge.
I testify of Jesus Christ, the true source of lasting peace (see John 16:33). Because He overcame the world, He provides the strength for us to meet every trial the world can give us. He provides eternal perspective through His restored gospel and comfort through the influence of the Holy Ghost. Indeed, the gospel of Jesus Christ is the answer to every issue we face in life.
“Peace I leave with you,” the Savior said, “my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid” (John 14:27).
You can submit your own article, ideas, or feedback at liahona.ChurchofJesusChrist.org. We can’t wait to hear from you!

As a witness of the Lord Jesus Christ, I bear witness of the Book of Mormon that led me to Him. I found the Lord Jesus Christ within the covers of the Book of Mormon as a 19-year-old missionary, walking through the rain and the mud of England, riding a bike with mud clear up the back of my coat and over the top of my head, tracting in cities that had never been opened, with baptisms that did not come for a long time. Those nights I went back to No. 3 Gilmore Road and read and read and wept. I knew that Jesus was the Christ, that the Book of Mormon was true, that the gospel had been restored. If the folks in England didn’t understand that, then I would just keep knocking on their doors until they did.

One example of this process concerns the law of the fast. My parents were very supportive as I shared with them the details of my newly developing faith. My mother, however, became really concerned when I discussed with her my desire to participate in a 24-hour fast. She was shocked, not being able to accept that such a proposal was appropriate. She was adamant, saying she would not allow me to fast while in her home, fearing it would be detrimental to my health.
It was with a feeling of relief that I reported my mother’s objections to my member missionary, Pamela, informing her that unfortunately I would not be able to participate in the fast. Without hesitation, she responded, “We can easily take care of that. I’ll arrange with my parents for you to stay at our home for the weekend so you can fast with us.”
This was my introduction to the law of the fast. As I continued to observe this law each fast day, I gradually gained a testimony of the principle of fasting.

Neill Marriott:Noelle, thank you. It’s a privilege to be here in your beautiful home with you and Janson. I am so honored that you would spend time with me. I don’t know a thing about skeleton racing or sledding or whatever you call it, but would you just talk to us about what it is, how you race, how you train, how you steer, how you flop down on your tummy on that sled and scoot down the track, and what part Janson has played?
Noelle Pikus Pace: So skeleton is a crazy headfirst sport, where an athlete runs and jumps headfirst onto their stomach on a tiny little cookie sheet. We fly down the side of a mountain going ninety miles an hour, and we steer using our shoulders and our knees, applying pressure—just light pressure—to guide the sled the entire way down a mile-long course to hopefully and ultimately cross the finish line.
Marriott: And the sled is only about three feet long, isn’t it?
Pace: Yeah, it’s about three feet, and it weighs about sixty-five pounds, so it has got some weight to it. Janson actually built and designed my sled for the 2010 and 2014 Olympic Games, so he actually knows a lot more about the content of the sled. And then I enjoy driving it down the track.
Marriott: Janson, how did you know how to do this, and how does she move one shoulder and get it to go? What does the sled do?
Janson Pace:I had a small background in designing with Solidworks, a 3D modeling program, and it seemed like a fun opportunity for me. More important, she really needed a sled to get down the track. I realized that in order for her to be able to focus and to get down the track where she needed to go, she needed some equipment that was going to help her do that. And she struggled for a while to find the right equipment, so I just crossed my fingers one day—one summer, I guess I should say—and went to work.
Noelle Pace: A lot of prayer—a lot went into that.
Marriott: This is a long journey. You were injured in—was it 2004?
Pace:So leading up to the 2006 Winter Olympic Games, I was hit by a bobsled. I remember realizing at that time when this Olympic dream was just taken in a split second that I had a choice to make. I could either look back and be upset and frustrated that I missed out on this grand opportunity or I could choose to move forward. At that time I decided to move forward with the help of a great team, with the support of my husband, my family, and so many wonderful people around me. We were able to come back. And in order to do that, I had to set goals along the way.
Marriott: So how do you get to the finish line, to the goal, when you have no steering wheel? There doesn’t seem to be any visible sign of control.
Pace: So as a rookie, a lot of times you make the mistake of thinking that it’s these massive changes that you need to make in order to get yourself down the track. But as an elite athlete, you start to realize that it’s the subtle changes and that something as simple as looking where you want to go will put you where you need to be. “Where you look is where you go” was a statement that I would tell myself for years leading up to that Olympic podium. Just look where you want to go and then make the subtle adjustments to get there.
Marriott: Well, thank you. Thank you for your wisdom, your courage, and your determination to make it after having broken legs and all kinds of problems before. But I just have in my mind your statement that you go where you look. To me there is great wisdom in that, and it applies to our life and to all our decisions and choices. So thank you for the great example you’ve been. It’s been a joy to talk to you.
Pace: Thanks so much.

“Figuratively, all of us need to transform ourselves into modern Captain Moronis in order to win the wars against evil. I know a very faithful young deacon who transformed himself into a modern Captain Moroni. Inasmuch as he has sought to follow the counsel of his parents and Church leaders, his faith and determination have been tested every day, even at his young age. He told me one day he was surprised by a very difficult and uncomfortable situation—his friends were accessing pornographic images on their cell phones. In that exact moment, this young man had to decide what was most important—his popularity or his righteousness. In the few seconds that followed, he was filled with courage and told his friends that what they were doing was not right. Moreover, he told them that they should stop what they were doing or they would become slaves to it. Most of his classmates ridiculed his counsel, saying that it was a part of life and that there was nothing wrong with it. However, there was one among them who listened to the counsel of that young man and decided to stop what he was doing.
“This deacon’s example had a positive influence on at least one of his classmates. Undoubtedly, he and his friend faced mockery and persecution because of that decision. On the other hand, they had followed the admonition of Alma to his people when he said, ‘And now I say unto you, all you that are desirous to follow the voice of the good shepherd, come ye out from the wicked, and be ye separate, and touch not their unclean things’ [Alma 5:57].”
Elder Ulisses Soares of the Presidency of the Seventy

Joseph sat with a heavy heart, confused as to why he had been led to Nauvoo. His thoughts were soon interrupted by some passing townspeople talking about a meeting that everyone was invited to. A man named Brigham Young was to be the speaker.
Joseph stood up and asked a young woman about this meeting. She explained that the leader of the Church, Brigham Young, wanted to speak to everyone in town at the town hall. She pointed down the street to a large building.
The town hall was muggy from the afternoon heat and the large number of people packed into it. Joseph found a place near the back and sat down. A man stood at the pulpit and began to speak. Joseph knew this must be Brigham Young, for his burning heart told him that he was listening to a man of God.
Brigham Young began by thanking the people for coming. He then told them that he knew of their hardships and lack of money. But he said they must pay their tithing regularly so the temple could be finished, and that the temple should be their most important priority. He also told them that more food for the workers and more money for the building materials were desperately needed.
Joseph still had most of the $2,600 in the cans he had strapped around his waist—he had only spent a small amount to get to Nauvoo. As Brigham Young spoke of the need for money, the cans seemed to get heavier and heavier. But as the prophet spoke of the importance of the temple, Joseph’s heart became lighter and lighter. He knew why he had been guided to Nauvoo.
After the meeting, Joseph went straight to Brigham Young’s office and introduced himself. He told President Young about the missionaries, about the storm that almost drowned him, and about God leading him to Nauvoo.
Brigham Young then watched as Joseph unstrapped the belt from around his waist and rolled the gold-filled cans across the table. “I want to give myself and all I have to the kingdom of God,” Joseph said.
When Brigham Young opened the cans and saw what was inside, he was touched by Joseph’s sacrifice. The money would be enough to finish the temple. Brigham laid his hands on Joseph’s head and gave him a blessing. In the blessing he promised that Joseph and all his posterity would always have the things they needed if they remained faithful.
The temple was completed, and Joseph Toronto became part of Brigham Young’s family, later traveling with them to the Salt Lake Valley.

It’s Saturday morning in Prescott, Arizona, and the sky is a clear, crisp blue. It’s jacket weather, and some of the parents standing at the edge of the playing field stomp their feet on the hard ground to keep warm. In the distance, boys are shouting to each other as they run after a soccer ball. The team in the red and black uniforms are the Dynamites. Christopher Sexton (9) is one of them.
But a soccer field is only one of the many places where you can find Chris. Another place is the library, just a short walk from his family’s house in the small town of Chino Valley. He likes to head straight for the Hardy Boys books; he likes to check out videos too. After his family returned from a trip to an oceanarium in California, he went to the library and checked out a whole stack of books about whales, dolphins, and sharks. He says he wants to be a trainer at the oceanarium when he grows up.
You’ll find Chris at his home, of course—but then again, maybe you won’t! He loves to put on his cartoon turtle hero costume and hide, having all kinds of imaginative adventures. Who knows what might be lurking around the sofa or behind the telephone pole outside?
Christopher can be very determined when he wants to get something done. One summer his parents promised him a new bike if he kept the garden and trees watered. The watering had to be done by hand, and it took a lot of time. But he stuck to it without complaining, and by the end of the summer, he was able to choose his own bike.
You can often find Chris spending time with his family. He likes to wrestle with Dad or help him work on the car. Every so often, his oldest sister, Rebecca (17), takes him to the movies. And sometimes, on Sunday evenings during the summer, you can find him sprawled out on the grass with the rest of the family, reading stories and eating popcorn. And the family reads scriptures together at dinnertime.
You can also find Chris quietly helping others in his classroom at school. “He always goes the extra mile,” says his third-grade teacher. “He enjoys working with the other children who might need a little extra help.”
He helps his classmates with more than just their schoolwork. “He’s very tenderhearted and compassionate,” Mom says. When he was four years old, his friend’s father died, and Chris worried about his friend and asked, “What is he going to do for fathers-and-sons things?” Every year since then, he’s invited his friend to come along with him and Dad to fathers-and-sons activities.
So you’ll find Chris in lots of places. Whether playing with his friends, reading, spending time with his family, or helping someone, he’s probably enjoying what he’s doing. His soccer team isn’t the only thing that’s dynamite!