Gospel Story Finder

Two years ago last spring I was caught in the middle of a very heated controversy. A group of creative writing and art students at Brigham Young University, where I am one of the deans, published an issue of the school’s literary magazine which some members of the administration, faculty, and student body felt contained spots of questionable language and photography that should not be permitted to circulate. I was asked as Dean of the College of Humanities to withdraw the publication. Feelings were strong on both sides, and I was painfully squeezed between.
In the confrontations that followed, some teachers and students urged me to really clamp down on those students and their advisors who were responsible for the publication. It was suggested by some that I ought to exercise tighter controls in supervising students and their creative activities. Meanwhile, other teachers and students were pressing me even more strongly to stand up with vigor in defense of academic and creative freedom. Each side stressed the important “principles” involved.
The whole situation was intensely awkward for me because I felt that both sides were, to some extent, right. Surely morality, refinement, and good taste are standards to be defended and practiced, especially by members of the Church and in all Church publications. Equally, however, academic and creative freedom is also surely an ideal to be championed; and its opposite, censorship or suppression, inevitably contains elements that are not only inherently repugnant but also most difficult to control.1
This unpleasant incident of two years ago was particularly tense for a few weeks, but, rather than standing alone, it was merely one of many such incidents that have come to my door during the past twenty-five years in my responsibilities as a teacher and school administrator supervising creative writing classes, publications, and contests. The incident I have referred to happened at BYU, but it could have been in any high school or university. In fact, similar confrontations, often far more severe, have occurred and are occurring all over the world, wherever talented young people are writing, and that is everywhere. It is a problem that concerns all of us who are students and educators; and for those of us who are students and educators in the Church, it is a problem of special concern. The typical pattern is for some students and their teachers to press for increasing freedoms in writing and publishing while other students and educators press for tightening restrictions and controls.

There is a story about a young builder who had just gone into business for himself. A wealthy friend of his father came to him and said: “To get you started right, I am going to have you build a ranch house for me. Here are the plans. Don’t skimp on anything. I want the very finest materials used, and I want flawless workmanship. Forget the cost. Just send me the bills.”
The young builder became obsessed with the desire to enrich himself through this generous and unrestricted offer. Instead of employing top-grade labor and buying the finest materials, he shortchanged his benefactor in every way possible. Finally, the last secondhand nail was driven into the last flimsy wall, and the builder handed over the keys and bills, totaling over a hundred thousand dollars, to his father’s old friend. That gentleman wrote a check in full for the structure and then handed the keys back to the builder. “The home you have just built, my boy,” he said with a pleasant smile, “is my present to you. May you live in it in great happiness!”

by John Jarvis

It was the first day of spring in the Rhone Valley in southern France, and the young people of Avignon celebrated with an exploration trek to an authentic castle—St. André.

Hanging on a cliff face, St. André overlooks the Rhone River in the small, medieval city of Villeneuve les Avignon. Crossing the “Bridge of the Kingdom” from Avignon to Villeneuve brought the car caravan of young Latter-day Saints into the old, narrow streets where the width of each car barely fit between the ancient walls. Members, friends, and missionaries enthusiastically greeted the magnificent guard towers of the castle entrance. With slits in the stone for archers and guard stations at the top of the towers, it was easy to understand why few would-be conquerors were able to withstand the rain of arrows and boiling oil to win the castle.

“My ancestors could have been soldiers here,” said Cathy as she explored the ins and outs of the fortress-castle that was built in 1360. The only entrance to the castle is between the guard towers where enormous wooden doors can be lowered to seal off the entrance.

Entering the castle courtyard, the group felt as though they had stepped back in time. Inside was a small village complete with bakery, homes, and stone chapel, all abandoned now. They thoroughly explored the castle including the dungeon. The group was impressed by the medieval French devotion to God. They discovered that the castle was actually built on the ruins of a 10th century abbey.

“It’s great to get out,” said Sylvie, “especially with other young people who believe as you do. There is always such a good feeling when we are doing things together.”

After the castle had been thoroughly explored, fun-loving Michele broke out the soccer balls she had stowed in the cars. In France, the only thing a group of young people like better than a good soccer game is two good soccer games. They organized the matches on the large, grassy plain just below the fortress.

It was an ideal day, and good company made it an exciting youth activity. From the castle high on a cliff overlooking the Rhone River Valley, some young members of the Church in France had learned something about their heritage and each other.

After President Hardy died we had a memorial service for him. I’ll never forget the native who was up speaking, saying what a calamity it was to the mission to lose this great New Zealand missionary who could do so much for them as one of the Authorities of the Church.

He was talking along that line, and all of a sudden he stopped and he looked around at me and said, “Wait a minute. There’s nothing to worry about, not a thing to worry about. When President Cowley gets home he’ll fill the first vacancy in the Council of the Twelve Apostles, and we’ll still have a representative among the Authorities of the Church.” Then he went on talking about President Hardy. When I arrived home the following September I filled the first vacancy in the Quorum of the Twelve. Did that just happen by chance? Oh, I might have thought so if it had been one of you … that had prophesied that, but not from the blood of Israel. Oh no, I could not deny, I could not doubt it.

Not too long ago, I was working on our farm with my nephew Nash. He is six and has a pure heart. He is my favorite nephew named Nash, and I believe I am his favorite uncle speaking in conference today.

As he helped me come up with a solution for our project, I said, “Nash, that is a great idea. How did you get so smart?” He looked at me with an expression in his eyes that said, “Uncle Ryan, how do you not know the answer to this question?”

He simply shrugged his shoulders, smiled, and confidently said, “Jesus.”

Nash reminded me that day of this simple and yet profound teaching. The answer to the simplest questions and to the most complex problems is always the same. The answer is Jesus Christ. Every solution is found in Him.

Seven years ago, when Alex Escobar, as a teacher in the Aaronic Priesthood, committed to serve a full-time mission, he never could have imagined that his father would be his bishop when he prepared to enter the mission field.
When Alex’s father, René Escobar, thinks back on the 13 years he spent outside the Church, he laments what he missed.
“Those years were very difficult,” he says. “Sometimes I couldn’t help but think about the time I was losing by not enjoying the marvelous life the gospel offers.”
The Escobar family had joined the Church in Córdoba when Alex was a child. They stayed active until moving back to their native country of Bolivia shortly after Alex’s baptism. In Bolivia, René says, they lost contact with the Church and forgot “what the gospel means to our lives.”
Upon returning to Córdoba two years later, Alex’s mother, Carmen, occasionally attended church with the couple’s four children. But René, an avid soccer player, spent Sundays sleeping off Saturday’s games and associated activities—activities that often meant breaking the Word of Wisdom.
“I was the hardheaded one,” he says. “Brothers from church often visited me, sometimes finding me in situations that weren’t very good. At times I thought I was completely lost, which we think when we no longer have the companionship of the Spirit. This all contributed to a belief that I couldn’t get back on the Lord’s path.”
What finally turned René around was the realization that his example was hurting his children. “My sons were like orphans who attended church by themselves because their father was not active,” he recalls.
“I began to examine my life and the effect my example was having on my children,” says René, who is grateful that the power of the Atonement of Jesus Christ allowed him to repent and change. “I asked myself, ‘What am I doing to my children?’ I realized I wasn’t living up to my responsibilities as a father. All these things helped me remember the Lord, get on my knees, and ask Him to help me return.”
Carmen and the children were surprised but elated by his turnaround. “One day he announced, ‘I’m going to change my life. From now on, I’m not going to drink, and we’re going to church.’ I couldn’t believe it,” says Carmen.
Alex’s sister, Joselina, is grateful for the unity that has come to the family since her father returned to church. “Today he is nothing like he was before,” she says. “He made a 180-degree change.”
As René’s faithfulness and testimony grew, a series of callings followed. Several years after reembracing the gospel, he received an impression that leadership in the ward was about to change and that the Lord had prepared him for an important new calling.
“The result is that today my father is my bishop,” Alex said a few weeks before leaving on his mission.
Bishop Escobar is happy that Alex is the first missionary he sent into the mission field after being called as bishop. “It’s exciting to have a son serve,” he says. “We all miss Alex because he is everything to us. But I’m the one who misses him the most. He is one of my anchors. He is the one who supported me.”

He has marked the path and made it available for our return to His presence, but an important question we might ask ourselves individually is, How willingly do we accept His interest in our well-being and happiness? This question is at the heart of the following allegory.
William loved all of his many sons and daughters. Each was very special to him. Although he wanted them to stay close to him, he allowed them to leave home for a time so they might answer for themselves who they were and what they were to be. He gave them instruction, blessings, and counsel. He pled with them to accept and keep the rules he had taught them so they might be rewarded for their willingness to learn, to understand, and to act appropriately. He invited them to call often, telling them he would always be there, excited to hear from them.
Having made careful and prudent investments in the past with his own time, intelligence, and resources, William had amassed wealth and influence he now sought to share. He busied himself with carpentry tools, plants, and flowers in preparation for his children’s return. He began to prepare a place for each of them more beautiful than they could imagine. Everything around William glowed with warmth, love, and sunshine, and he smiled as he considered each child’s return and pondered the joy and peace they would all share on his pleasant estate.
Finally the day came when the children began to return. First came Paul and Mary, then Kenneth and Sarah. William had never seen them so happy, and he wept as he took them into his arms and kissed them. Then, to their delight and joy, William gave them a glimpse of the great estate to which they were heirs and helped them realize that what lay before them was only a beginning, that its dimensions and beauty would increase according to their own vision and effort.
“But where are Charles and Thomas, Nancy and Clara?” asked William. The promise to them was the same. Did they not know they needed to follow his simple instructions and persevere?
“Father,” said Kenneth, “they understood in part but really couldn’t see. Some things blinded them. Thomas said he wanted to come, but he was a little too busy; he didn’t even have time for his children. Charles is building an estate; it has a modest beauty, and between that and a booming business, he has time for very little else. Nancy said she’s confused and disoriented and it’s not her fault, but she won’t be coming. Clara’s case is another matter. She said she had kept the rules long enough; she asked that we please leave her alone and said she just wants to be free.”
William sorrowed over these words, for the gift he had offered seemed as marvelous as all eternity. Said he: “How will they even begin to comprehend the blessings of this great gift I have prepared if they receive it not and reject me as the giver? What great joy will have slipped from me and from them!”

By staying close to the Lord, I reestablished confidence in myself and could feel the influence of the Holy Ghost in my life. This influence soon led me to consider serving a mission. I know some people thought my desire foolish, but when I spoke with the branch president, he gave me the courage I needed. To prepare myself, I decided to read the Book of Mormon in its entirety—something I had not yet accomplished in my 12 years as a member.
However, my poor memory posed a real challenge. After starting with 1 Nephi at least 10 times and not being able to remember a thing I had read, I knew I needed a different approach. I prayed to find a solution, and soon a method entered my mind: I would write a summary of each chapter as I read it.
I bought a notebook and read the first chapter of 1 Nephi. Since I had only a vague idea of what I had just read, I read the chapter again. Only then was I able to summarize in my notebook the main ideas in that chapter.
Prayerfully, I moved on. After completing 1 Nephi, I found I no longer had to read each chapter twice; once was enough to write a good summary. I read the entire Book of Mormon this way. When I finished, I was left with a strong spiritual witness that the book is true, and I could also testify that the Lord strengthens us if we turn to Him.

Hannah sat on the train seat between her father and her sister, Bessie. Papa had let Bessie sit next to the window, but Hannah didn’t mind because that meant she could sit next to Papa. She snuggled up next to him, and he reached out to squeeze her hand.
“Today we’ll go inside the house of the Lord,” Papa said, his voice trembling a little.
“Yes, Papa,” Hannah said.
“Do you know why?”
Hannah nodded. “The Salt Lake Temple will be dedicated today. Then it will be a real temple.”
“Yes,” said Papa. “And why else do you want to go?”
“To see how beautiful it is inside,” Hannah answered.
Papa smiled. “Is that why we go to the temple?”
Hannah looked down at the pink ticket she was holding on her lap. It had President Wilford Woodruff’s own signature on it. She would show it at the door so she could go inside to see the temple dedication.
“To see President Woodruff?”
“We do love our prophet, but why else do you want to go?” Papa tilted his head and raised his eyebrows.
Hannah leaned back in her seat. What answer was Papa after?
“You think about that.” Papa patted her knee. “On the way home, you can answer again.”
The train ride went by quickly, and soon Hannah found herself staring at the Salt Lake Temple. She couldn’t take her eyes off it. Looking up at the spires made her delightfully dizzy. The angel Moroni sparkled in the morning sun. “Holiness to the Lord,” Hannah read from the inscription on the wall. She felt a powerful joy in her heart. She promised herself that someday she would be married right here in the temple.
Hannah whispered to her father, “I know why I want to go to the temple. It’s because of Charley and Grandfather Bird and the rest of our family. It’s for Holiness to the Lord and for me too.”
Papa nodded, tears pooling in his eyes. “That’s why I want to go too.”

I know a man with whom I have been friends for most of my life. He is an accomplished professional, with degrees from prestigious universities. He travels frequently to various countries and places, unselfishly sharing his great knowledge and skills with others. In every sense of the word he is an honorable man of the world.

He was born into an active LDS home and grew up in the nurture of the gospel. He served a mission and was married in the temple. Several generations of faithful Church members have left a firm and devoted heritage to him. Coming from a foreign land, they had crossed the plains as early pioneers to the Salt Lake Valley, and had repeatedly responded to calls to serve in many places and for various purposes. This pattern has been followed by generations preceding him for many years.

Somehow in his later years, things began to change. He ceased his activity in the Church, repudiated its teachings and eventually had his name removed from the records. His family, following his example, had nothing to do with the Church. Whether is was his divorce from his first wife, his noted success as a professional, his accumulation of the things of the world, or his affiliation with those of his own academic prowess, self-styled intellectuals who have little use for faith in the humble teachings of Jesus Christ, I know not. But this much I do know. Whatever he has, lays claim to, desires or considers important, has been acquired at a terrible price. He has exchanged his heritage for a mess of pottage.

We still exchange Christmas cards and his usually include a picture of his entire family - three generations - apparently happy and devoted to each other. But not one is a member of the Church. No priesthood leads or blesses them. No temple ordinances promise a continuation of their happy family association. The lessons, experiences and counsel of prior generations have been discarded and refuted. A new generational foundation has been adopted, but one that leads not to "A fullness and a continuation of the seeds forever and ever," but rather to a lesser position where they "are appointed angels in Heaven, which angels are ministering servants, to minister for those who are worthy of a far more, and an exceeding, and an eternal weight of glory."[4]

For many years Sister Bednar and I hosted faithful men and women as devotional speakers at Brigham Young University–Idaho. Many of these speakers were emeritus or released members of the Seventy who had served as temple presidents following their service as General Authorities. As we talked with these stalwart leaders, I always asked this question: “What have you learned as a temple president that you wish you had better understood when you were a General Authority?”
As I listened to their answers, I discovered a consistent theme that I would summarize as follows: “I have come to understand better the protection available through our temple covenants and what it means to make an acceptable offering of temple worship. There is a difference between church-attending, tithe-paying members who occasionally rush into the temple to go through a session and those members who faithfully and consistently worship in the temple.”
The similarity of their answers impressed me greatly. Each response to my question focused upon the protecting power of the ordinances and covenants available in the house of the Lord. Their answers precisely paralleled the promises contained in the dedicatory prayer offered upon the Kirtland Temple in 1836:
“We ask thee, Holy Father, to establish the people that shall worship, and honorably hold a name and standing in this thy house, to all generations and for eternity;
“That no weapon formed against them shall prosper; that he who diggeth a pit for them shall fall into the same himself;
“That no combination of wickedness shall have power to rise up and prevail over thy people upon whom thy name shall be put in this house;
“And if any people shall rise against this people, that thine anger be kindled against them;
“And if they shall smite this people thou wilt smite them; thou wilt fight for thy people as thou didst in the day of battle, that they may be delivered from the hands of all their enemies” (D&C 109:24–28).
Please consider these verses in light of the current raging of the adversary and what we have discussed about our willingness to take upon us the name of Jesus Christ and the blessing of protection promised to those who honorably hold a name and standing in the holy temple. Significantly, these covenant blessings are to all generations and for all eternity. I invite you to study repeatedly and ponder prayerfully the implications of these scriptures in your life and for your family.
We should not be surprised by Satan’s efforts to thwart or discredit temple worship and work. The devil despises the purity in and the power of the Lord’s house. And the protection available to each of us in and through temple ordinances and covenants stands as a great obstacle to the evil designs of Lucifer.
The exodus from Nauvoo in September of 1846 caused unimaginable hardship for the faithful Latter-day Saints. Many sought shelter in camps along the Mississippi River. When word reached Brigham Young at Winter Quarters about the condition of these refugees, he immediately sent a letter across the river to Council Point encouraging the brethren to help—reminding them of the covenant made in the Nauvoo Temple. He counseled: “Now is the time for labor. Let the fire of the covenant which you made in the House of the Lord, burn in your hearts, like flame unquenchable” (in Journal History of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Sept. 28, 1846, 5). Within days, wagons were rolling eastward to rescue the struggling Saints.
What was it that gave those early Saints such strength? It was the fire of the temple covenant that burned in their hearts. It was their commitment to worship and honorably hold a name and standing in the house of the Lord.
We do now and will yet face great challenges to the work of the Lord. But like the pioneers who found the place which God for them prepared, so we will fresh courage take, knowing our God will never us forsake (see “Come, Come, Ye Saints,” Hymns, no. 30). Today temples dot the earth as sacred places of ordinances and covenants, of edification, and of refuge from the storm.
The Lord declared, “I must gather together my people, … that the wheat may be secured in the garners to possess eternal life, and be crowned with celestial glory” (D&C 101:65).
Within the sound of my voice are many young women, young men, and children. I plead with you to be worthy, to be steadfast, and to look forward with great anticipation to the day you will receive the ordinances and blessings of the temple.
Within the sound of my voice are individuals who should have but have not yet received the ordinances of the house of the Lord. Whatever the reason, however long the delay, I invite you to begin making the spiritual preparations so you can receive the blessings available only in the holy temple. Please cast away the things in your life that stand in the way. Please seek after the things that are of eternal consequence.
Within the sound of my voice are individuals who have received the ordinances of the temple and for various reasons have not returned to the house of the Lord in quite some time. Please repent, prepare, and do whatever needs to be done so you can again worship in the temple and more fully remember and honor your sacred covenants.
Within the sound of my voice are many individuals who hold current temple recommends and strive worthily to use them. I commend you for your faithfulness and devotion.
I bear solemn witness that the fire of the covenant will burn in the heart of every faithful member of this Church who shall worship and honorably hold a name and standing in the Lord’s holy house. Jesus the Christ is our Redeemer and Savior. He lives, and He directs the affairs of His Church through revelation to His anointed servants. Of these things I bear witness in the sacred name of the Lord Jesus Christ, amen.

Camping is not my thing.
Which is why everyone who knew me was surprised when I, along with a good friend, signed up for a weekend camping trip to Colorado, USA, with a bunch of strangers for no reason other than that I wanted to get out of my comfort zone and feel a little more adventurous.
It was about 3 a.m. the first night when it started pouring rain. I stared up at the paper-thin walls of my tent, mentally begging them to keep me dry and sincerely regretting my decision to come. I spent the rest of the trip enjoying the views but mostly trying not to embarrass myself; I was less outdoorsy than most of the people I was traveling with, and I worried constantly that I would look incompetent.
On the final night of the trip, my friend and I ventured outside to try to enjoy the nature that we’d traveled so far to see. As we stood outside our tent, my friend surprised me with her astronomy knowledge, pointing out Taurus, the Pleiades, and Cassiopeia, tracing her finger along the sky as she told me stories about the clusters of stars. It was a beautiful, peaceful moment.
The longer we stood there, heads tipped back, the more I forgot about my own discomfort. Looking up at the vast, starry sky was humbling. For probably the first time during that trip, I was able to fully appreciate something beautiful instead of worrying about myself and getting caught up in my own silly pride.
I felt the difference between these two feelings on that camping trip. For the majority of the trip, I was self-absorbed, worried about how I looked and smelled and how comfortable I was. But there was a brief moment, during that evening under the stars, when I was able to look outside myself and realize that there is so much more to living in this miraculously beautiful world than what I was experiencing.
That night, I learned to look up when I wanted to stop thinking about myself, and that’s proven to be a pretty effective antidote to pride. As the famed Christian writer C. S. Lewis explained: “In God you come up against something which is in every respect immeasurably superior to yourself. … As long as you are proud you cannot know God. A proud man is always looking down on things and people: and, of course, as long as you are looking down, you cannot see something that is above you.”3
That trip didn’t change my mind about camping—it’s still not my thing. But I’m grateful that I learned an important lesson about “walk[ing] humbly” (Doctrine and Covenants 11:12) that night, because it taught me something that I not only needed on that trip but will need for the rest of my life. It’s normal to struggle with pride—it’s an inherent part of our mortal experience. But acknowledging it in ourselves and working to overcome it by seeking humility can bring us closer to Christ and help us live happier lives.

When Elder and Sister Bednar were married, they consistently had family prayer, scripture study, and family home evening with their three sons. Sometimes things did not go well, and Elder and Sister Bednar wondered if their efforts were worthwhile. Now and then during scripture study there were outbursts such as, “He’s touching me!” “Make him stop looking at me!” and “Mom, he’s breathing my air!” Family prayers were sometimes interrupted with giggling and poking. And family home evening lessons were not always calm with three active, noisy boys.
But they kept trying.
Because they were consistent and kept trying, Elder and Sister Bednar’s family and their love for one another grew stronger. Their family learned together and felt the Spirit in their home because of the small things they did that matter so much.

For Scout camp this summer, we took our Scouts to Flaming Gorge. One day we rafted the Green River below Flaming Gorge Dam. They were letting extra water out of the dam, so the currents in the river were impressive. Each raft had a guide who told us how and when to stroke—“forward three,” “left four,” “back two.” We responded quickly with the required strokes. In this way the guide directed us to currents in the river in which we could enjoy the rapids as well as safety.

Adjei Kwame was guided into the Church by spiritual promptings he felt when he took a teaching position in Zimbabwe. “I had been searching for the true church,” he says. “I kept having dreams about a church building. When I went through Kwe Kwe, Zimbabwe, I saw it and wanted to go in to find out what kept coming into my dreams all the time.” When he visited the church one Sunday, he says, “I felt I was actually with some people that I knew a long time ago who had been good friends.”

As part of the service, members of the Kwe Kwe Branch bore their testimonies. Brother Kwame went to the pulpit. He said that he believed in God and wanted to be a member of the Church. He later met with Sister Hamstead, the wife of the mission president. “What actually descended upon the two of us I cannot explain. I became aware that I was weeping. I can’t explain the feeling. I was released of all burdens. I felt that I had gone to a place where I visited often, but now I was at home.”

Annie frowned, seeing what was on the table for supper. She stamped her foot and declared, “Again, Mama!”
“Yes, Annie. Mush again. Come now, sit down and be glad for it. Our stomach walls would touch were it not for the mush.”
Annie pinched her lips together and sat down next to her older sister, Marian.
After supper the mush felt like a cold stone in Annie’s stomach as they gathered around Pa. Annie usually loved Pa’s quiet, deep tones as he read from the Bible or the Book of Mormon. But tonight’s chosen scripture, the third chapter of Habakkuk, bothered her when Pa reached verses seventeen and eighteen:
“Although … the fields shall yield no meat [fruit]; …
“Yet I will rejoice …”
Annie just had to blurt out, “Pa, does that mean that we should be glad even if there’s nothing but mush to eat?”
“That’s right, Annie.” Pa smiled gently at her.
“Well, I like what David said better.” Annie found the place in the old family Bible and pointed.
“Let’s see, Psalm Eighty-One, verse ten.” A slow smile spread across Pa’s face as he read, “Open thy mouth wide, and I will fill it.”
With a little laugh, Marian said, “He’s done that, hasn’t He—filled our mouths with mush!”
“David didn’t mean mush, Marian!” Annie objected. “I just know that he didn’t!”
Later, in bed, Annie couldn’t sleep. She turned onto her side, thinking about Heavenly Father and mush. Surely Heavenly Father loves us enough to give us more than just mush, doesn’t He? Pa had talked about a mysterious stock market crash. He had said that the crash and now the long drought were why there wasn’t enough food or jobs. But, Annie wondered, why did Heavenly Father let it be so?
Restless, she got up and looked out the window. Her tiny bedroom above the kitchen looked out on flat, dry eastern Oregon ranchlands that seemed to stretch forever. Above, the sky was alive with twinkles. Annie stared up at the silver-spangled blackness, mulling over what Mama repeated often these days:
“Trust grows in sunshine, but—what’s best—
It blooms in darkness when at rest.”
“OK, Heavenly Father,” Annie said resignedly as she knelt by her bed, “I’ll go along with Mama and Pa and Marian. Maybe You know something that I don’t, so I’ll try to trust You more. I’ll even try to like mush a little bit.” When Annie finished her prayer, she stretched out under the quilts and drifted into a deep sleep.
Scraaaape! Scraaaatch!
The strange scraping sound wakened Annie. Drowsily she heard the screen door slam and Pa’s voice, “Git, Bossie! Go along now.”
Wondering whom Pa was talking to, Annie jumped up and pushed aside the curtains. “A cow!” she cried.
Trotting away toward the road was a jersey cow. Larger than most jerseys, she was yellowish brown, and one side was splashed with a darker brown, as though someone had splattered her with paint.
Annie stretched, then pulled on her clothes. As she slipped on her dress, she again heard the strange scraping sound. Looking down, she saw the same cow scraping her horns against the back porch post. The screen door slammed as Pa came out again, this time briskly slapping his pants with his hand. With a startled swing of her head, the cow took off down the path. Annie rested her hands on the sill and leaned out, watching the cow trot off. Her udder was swollen with milk and swung back and forth as she trotted.
Minutes later, Annie joined Marian and her parents in the kitchen. “Where’d that cow come from, Pa?”
“I imagine she belongs to some rancher. Because of the drought, they’ve had to turn their stock loose to forage for themselves. Poor critters.” As he shook his head sympathetically, the familiar scraping sound came again.
They all went out onto the porch and stared at the big cow. She stared back dully. Then, lifting her head, she drew out a long, sad Moooo.
“Pa, she wants to be milked,” Marian said. “Look at her full udder.” She took a step toward the jersey, then stopped as the animal swung her head, brandishing sharp horns. A hoofed foot stamped in the dust, raising dust swirls in the already hot morning sun.
“I’ll milk her! Then we’ll have cream on our mush. Won’t that be good?” Annie’s voice was excited. She looked appealingly at Pa. “Can I, Pa? Please. She’s come here, asking.”
“Annie, part of her looks like she wants to be milked, all right. But her horns and that look in her eyes say, ‘No one better bother me.’”
“Let me try, Pa. Please. If she doesn’t want me to, she’ll just leave.”
“All right, Annie. Go ahead and try, but I don’t think she’ll even let you near her.”
Annie slipped into the kitchen and grabbed a large pot and a stool. Carrying them cautiously, she walked slowly toward the cow, who stood watching her. The cow’s front hoof pawed at the dusty ground, and her tail switched away a fly. Annie hesitated, her breath catching in her throat. The cow really didn’t look too friendly. Then she thought, Cream on ourmush! I’ll bet this cow is from Heavenly Father.
Annie took another slow step. “There now, little mama,” she crooned. “We’ll soon have you feeling better.” With slow, steady movements, Annie positioned the pot under the cow. Soon steady streams of rich, warm milk were filling it to the brim.
Just as Annie finished, the cow flung her head and took off, her sharp hoofs barely missing the pot of foaming milk.
“Wow!” Marian breathed. “Annie, you sure were brave. She really isn’t too tame.”
“Let’s go have our mush with cream, Marian!” Annie exulted.
After Pa said the blessing, Annie added her own silent thank-you to Heavenly Father.
Early the next morning, Annie was again awakened by the scraping sound.
Oh! You’ve sent her again, Heavenly Father! Annie thought as she drew in a quick breath. She flew down the stairs, snatched up the stool and pot, and raced outdoors.
“Oh, Bossie dear, I’m so glad that you came back. We loved the milk you gave us yesterday. Do you belong to Heavenly Father, Bossie?” Talking gently, Annie was soon filling the pot again with Bossie’s creamy milk.
Each morning, all through the hot, dry summer, the cow returned. And each morning Annie’s young, strong fingers milked her. Mama gave the cow some of their precious water to drink each morning as partial payment for her cream and milk.
The days grew shorter and cooler. One day a long downpour sank deeply into the thirsty ground. Soon Pa found work, and once again they were able to buy a variety of foods to eat.
One afternoon a rancher rode up to the door. “Good morning, Ma’am,” he said to Mama. “I’m rounding up the cattle that I had to turn loose a while back. I’m missing one—a big jersey with a splash of dark brown on one side. I wonder if you’ve seen her?”
“Oh my, yes!” Mama said. “Is she yours? We’ve wondered whom she belonged to. She’s been coming every morning for months. My Annie’s been milking her, and—”
“Nope, can’t be her, then, Ma’am,” he interrupted. “This cow will hardly let a husky man milk her, let alone a tad of a girl. She’s a mean critter.”
“Well, this cow’s skittish, all right. But she apparently lost her calf and was heavy with milk, so each morning Annie has been milking her. We don’t know who has been milking her at night.”
“Well, I just can’t imagine her being milked by a little girl. But maybe I’ll drop by and have a look, anyway.”
The next morning the rancher came as Annie was still milking the cow.
“Well, I’ll be switched!” he declared. “That jersey’s one and the same, as sure as can be.” He walked slowly around the cow as Annie finished milking her. “Yep, there’s my brand, all right. But say, little girl, you’ve been doing something few have ever done.” With that, he led the cow away down the road.
Annie watched the cow go and smiled at the thought of Heavenly Father’s goodness. Thanks, Heavenly Father, for filling our mouths with more than just mush.

Four deacons from four different wards in Salt Lake City and Orem, Utah, formed a 4 x 100-meter relay team and competed in the Hershey National Track and Field competitions in Hershey, Pennsylvania. The team members are Michael Campbell, Brian Crow, David Hooper, and Andrew Hurst.
The team set a new state record, beating the old record by nearly 2.5 seconds. As regional champions they were invited to the national championships, where they took second place.

Kurt Reintjes has gone far in Scouting—clear to Japan and back, in fact. One of very few Mormons who attended the World Jamboree there, Kurt had a great time explaining the gospel to friends. He also enjoyed visiting a Japanese member family. “Even though I couldn’t understand what they were saying, when they prayed, I knew it was a prayer. It was wonderful.” Kurt brought back greetings from Kyoto’s leaders to the mayor of La Habra, California.

A story illustrating the magic of writing is told in connection with two explorers who were working several hundred miles apart in the then-dark continent of Africa. One of the explorers wanted to send a message to the other; and having a native who knew the way and who agreed to carry whatever he wanted to send, the explorer made some marks on a piece of paper with his pen, folded the paper up, put it in an envelope, and gave it to the native. After some weeks in the jungle the native arrived at the camp of the other explorer and delivered the envelope. The explorer unfolded the message and looked at the marks on the paper; and without one single word having been spoken, the man to whom the message was delivered knew where his explorer friend was and what his problems and needs were. He knew about his health and several other personal things just by looking at the mysterious marks on the paper, which meant nothing at all to the native. This miracle so astounded the native that he fell down on his face and worshiped the writing.

Not too long ago, I was struggling with stress, boundaries, and feelings of inadequacy at my job. I was also having a difficult time navigating some conflicts in my marriage. I seemed to be completely frozen with thoughts of “I don’t know what to do” and “What would someone ‘normal,’ who doesn’t have these problems, do?”
I didn’t understand why I couldn’t handle conflict well. It seemed like I was constantly in a lose-lose scenario. The lack of confidence I had in myself and the absence of tools to deal with my constant stress made my problems feel all-consuming.
They were all that I thought about.
During this time, my husband and I were meeting with our bishop to learn how to address some concerns we weren’t sure how to deal with, and he invited us to participate in a pilot test for the Church’s new emotional resilience course.
I was skeptical because I felt that I didn’t have the ability to deescalate some of the difficult feelings I was having. The title of the course didn’t proclaim, “Learn how to get rid of your problems today!” or “You have anxiety? End it here!” And subconsciously, I think I was trying to find some magical fix-all solution that would eliminate the pent-up negativity and anxiety I was carrying.
But when we began the course, we discussed a scripture that struck me—John 10:10: “I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly.” I realized then that I truly wanted to live life more abundantly. I didn’t want to be swallowed up in my afflictions and hardships anymore. I was willing to be open and hear the whisperings of the Spirit and learn what the Lord wanted me to know through this course.
Week after week, I felt the tools and knowledge I was gaining through the course help me slowly shift my mindset regarding my struggles and change my negative habits. And as I have looked over the notes I scribbled in the course workbook, I’ve seen how much I’ve grown from the lessons!
This course changed the way I thought about my stress and reassured me that all the struggles we have aren’t inherently bad. I became more comfortable with the difficult emotions I feel during challenges and have been able to better recognize sweet reassurances from the Spirit telling me that things will be OK.
The second chapter of the manual covers healthy thinking patterns and outlines several exercises that helped me learn how to break down my thoughts, determine whether they are accurate, and root out why some of them are inaccurate. These exercises invited me to look for the negative behaviors within myself that I was never aware of. And in doing so, I realized that on some level, I have always believed that I am exempt from pain. But through the exercises, I slowly started realizing that life was not going to be pain-free—it would always be full of hard times.
Surprisingly, I started feeling a sense of relief in this truth. I finally accepted that it was OK to struggle during challenges and realized that there wasn’t something wrong with me if I needed help. I learned that challenges are meant to help us grow. They are all part of the journey, and the ones I was going through at work and in my marriage were going to help me grow on my path back to Heavenly Father.
For me, the most impactful part of this course, apart from all the positive changes it helped me make, was how all the course materials pointed me to the Savior, Jesus Christ. The course’s format was divinely inspired. From its language to the focus of the lessons, it helped me become more confident in myself and in what the Savior can help me do.
For instance, the course taught me how the principles of the gospel of Jesus Christ can help me work through situations that give me anxiety. I learned to turn to Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ in moments of self-doubt and remember that I am good enough. I discovered that through God we can truly accomplish anything, and if I continued to have false perceptions about who I was or the challenges I was facing, I was only preventing myself from deepening my faith and experiencing growth. As Elder Ulisses Soares of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles taught, “Through Jesus Christ and His atoning sacrifice, we can experience a mighty change of mind and heart, bringing a fresh attitude, both toward God and toward life in general.”1
The course elaborated on some complex topics, but it also taught about simple topics that can improve our everyday life, like knowing how to appropriately respond to someone who is struggling,2 realizing that it’s OK to acknowledge discomfort,3 recognizing signs of depression,4 and understanding how meditation and mindfulness can help us reconnect with ourselves, Heavenly Father, and Jesus Christ.5
By combining counseling and this course, I was able to find the boost of strength I needed to make positive changes in my life. The Spirit taught me that I had the power to advocate for what I needed at work and that having faith in the Lord would help me access that power. I learned to ultimately accept that I needed to move on from my job if things didn’t change and that moving on wasn’t a bad thing. I also gained the courage to humbly and honestly work with my husband to once again foster peace and connection in our marriage.
In my manual, I wrote down a moment of gratitude for an interview I had at a new potential place of employment. I ended up getting the job, and I can remember the feelings of joy and peace that washed over me as I leaned into the discomfort of change. That aha moment came as I recognized that I had grown in a positive way and that my own efforts and the help of Heavenly Father and the Savior had allowed me to find success.
I’ve found that 2 Nephi 2:24–25 has resonated with me lately:
“But behold, all things have been done in the wisdom of him who knoweth all things.
“Adam fell that men might be; and men are, that they might have joy.”
In my opinion, to find success is to have joy. And my success is taking all this new knowledge and moving forward with hope and optimism, recognizing that the Lord helped me learn so I could live “more abundantly” (John 10:10).
I truly believe that living joyfully and abundantly is what the Lord wants for everyone. As the manual says, part of emotional resilience is being able to handle stressful situations and adapt to life changes with courage and faith in Christ.6
The Lord loves us, and He “descended below” all things (Doctrine and Covenants 122:8) so that we could inherit all, conquer our challenges, and have joy. I invite you to take advantage of this amazing course that helped me change my life and realize that while things might not always work out in the way that we want, they can always work out for our benefit because of Jesus Christ (see Doctrine and Covenants 90:24; 122:7).