Gospel Story Finder

On one occasion, I received the assignment to visit a stake located in the beautiful mountains of the Peruvian highlands. This unit of the Church had not been visited by a General Authority for more than two years because of the dangers involved in traveling there. After obtaining proper authorization, and with the help of the mission president, we commenced the five-hour trip that took us to the beautiful Mantaro River valley.
When we arrived at the stake center, the president and his counselors were waiting for us. Upon seeing us, their faces lit up with happiness and we joined in a strong, brotherly embrace. Some three years previously, two of our beloved missionaries had been killed in this city. After embracing the president close to my heart, trying to communicate to him all my love, I asked, “Have you suffered greatly during this time in which we haven’t been able to come?” He answered with his eyes filled with tears, “Yes, we have suffered greatly, but we have kept the faith.” This simple phrase touched our hearts, and we could feel that the hand of the Lord had been with them.
As we met with them, we were able to distinguish at least five principles which aided them to overcome their difficulties.
First: They never stopped trusting in the Lord, and they placed all of their faith in him. This was the foundation for their assurance. They trusted in the fact that he would protect and guide them. The Lord has said, “If ye will have faith in me ye shall have power to do whatsoever thing is expedient in me” (Moro. 7:33).
Occasionally, in the midst of our desperation, we seek other ways, other guides. But those who counsel us are not always prepared to help, because they do not understand our spiritual needs. They are not prepared to give us the counsel and the revelation that we truly need.
We have the great example of the sons of Mosiah, who endured so much adversity and so many trials. Because of the trust they had in the Lord, “the Lord did visit them with his Spirit, and said unto them: Be comforted. And they were comforted. …
“Yet ye shall be patient in long-suffering and afflictions, that ye may show forth good examples unto them in me, and I will make an instrument of thee in my hands unto the salvation of many souls” (Alma 17:10–11).
Second: They remained faithful in prayer. Each member, whether adult, child, or adolescent, faithfully followed this holy practice each day, praying individually and as families with all of their faith. As we know, prayer is the means by which we communicate with our Heavenly Father. He listens to us because we are his children and he loves us, and he is anxious to bless us when we keep the commandments.
As the Savior instructed the Nephites, he taught them: “Therefore ye must always pray unto the Father in my name;
“And whatsoever ye shall ask the Father in my name, which is right, believing that ye shall receive, behold it shall be given unto you” (3 Ne. 18:19–20). No one could have given them greater assurance that they would be heard by the Father than his own Son.
Third: They never stopped studying the scriptures. In the scriptures they found faith to overcome fear, solutions to their problems, divine comfort from the Master, the loving counsel of the Father, and especially the assurance of being guided in righteousness towards eternal life. “Search the scriptures; for in them ye think ye have eternal life: and they are they which testify of me” (John 5:39). They lived this commandment even in the midst of all their difficulties. One of them said, “We have never been as close to the Lord as when we were reading the scriptures.”
Fourth: They implemented priesthood programs. Due to the fatal incident that had taken place there, it was necessary to remove full-time missionaries. In order to make up for the help that was lost, it became necessary to organize the returned missionaries so that they could teach the gospel to those who wanted to hear it. References came in from member families. Home teaching increased. Nobody was overlooked. Just as they said, they kept the faith.
Fifth: They humbled themselves before the Lord. They purified their lives, they repented, they tried to live together as Saints, sharing much of what they had, fasting when problems arose or when they were threatened. The Lord, speaking to Solomon said, “If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land” (2 Chr. 7:14).
These simple yet powerful principles enabled them to sustain themselves, to be preserved, to remain faithful and active as members of the Church in that area.
What wonderful teachings we are able to find in these distant and isolated villages, where frequently it is difficult to sustain a religion or to live the principles of the gospel. Only their confidence in God and their faith in Jesus Christ sustain them, move them, and purify them.
Keeping the faith must also be a challenge for those who are alone in the Church, for those whose families are not converted, for those who have lost loved ones. Great courage is needed in order to continue onward, but we always have comfort from on high.
The faithful pioneers in the early days of the restored Church set a marvelous example of moving forward in faith despite adversity. It is difficult to conceive of the great loneliness of the people of the Church during those first years when they were a small group, the only Church members on all the face of the earth. They were persecuted, humiliated, rejected, and some were killed. The faith which they developed in the Lord, in the face of so much adversity, made them strong and humble at the same time.
President Kimball said regarding this theme, “Suffering can make Saints of people as they learn patience, long suffering and self-mastery. The sufferings of our Savior were part of his education” (“Tragedy or Destiny,” Brigham Young University Speeches of the Year, Provo, Utah, 6 Dec. 1955, p. 5).
Perhaps isolation makes small and distant towns and villages stronger and more pure.
At the close of the conference in that stake, I assured the members that God loved them, that the First Presidency and the Twelve Apostles were mindful of them, and that we were there to give them our testimony of the fact that they were part of the Church, that we had not forgotten them, and that we prayed for them. There was gratitude in their hearts, and again they smiled as humble members who had been comforted by the Spirit of the Lord. As he gave the closing prayer, a man nearly 80 years of age reminded the congregation that President Spencer W. Kimball had visited here, that he had blessed Mantaro Valley.
It made me think how fortunate so many of us are to be so often in the presence of the prophets of God and to receive their loving influence. But due to the worldwide growth of the Church, a large number of our good members have never had the privilege to be near one of these wonderful leaders at any time during their lives. But I testify to you that they love the General Authorities, that they are following their teachings, and that they await humbly and patiently the day in which they can be at the feet of the prophets.
The conditions of peoples and of nations change due to progress in the world; nevertheless, in many such places, be it in the frosty mountain heights, in the warm valleys, at the rivers’ edges, or in desert places, wherever members of our church are found, there will always be those who live these basic principles, and by so doing they bless the rest of the people. Let us face our earthly challenges courageously in spite of where we live, or through whatever difficult circumstances we may be called to endure. Let us keep the faith.

This is a story of a young girl, living in New York, who before age three lost her father when his boat sank on a large lake. She, her mother, older brother, and younger sister moved to a new city in another state to live with her aunt and uncle. Sometime after the family arrived, missionaries and members of a newly organized religion came to their town with the glorious news of the Restoration of the gospel. They told a remarkable story of an angel delivering an ancient record to a young man named Joseph Smith, a record he had translated by the power of God. Two of the visitors, Oliver Cowdery and John Whitmer, had actually seen the engraved metal pages of the ancient record with their own eyes, and Whitmer witnessed he had held the golden plates in his own hands. This record had been recently published, and Brother Whitmer brought the book with him. The name of the book, of course, was the Book of Mormon.
When 12-year-old Mary heard the missionaries speak about the book, she had a special feeling in her heart. Even though the Book of Mormon was thick with many pages, Mary yearned to read it. When Brother Whitmer departed, he gave one precious copy of the book to Brother Isaac Morley, who was a friend of Mary’s uncle and a local leader in the new church.
Mary later recorded: “I went to [Brother Morley’s] house … and asked to see the Book; [he] put it in my hand, [and] as I looked at it, I felt such a desire to read it, that I could not refrain from asking him to let me take it home and read it. … He said … he had hardly had time to read a chapter in it himself, and but few of the brethren had even seen it, but I plead so earnestly for it, he finally said, ‘child, if you will bring this book home before breakfast tomorrow morning, you may take it.’”
Mary ran home and was so captured by the book that she stayed up nearly all night reading it. The next morning, when she returned the book, Brother Morley said, “I guess you did not read much in it” and “I don’t believe you can tell me one word of it.” Mary stood up straight and repeated from memory the first verse of the Book of Mormon. She then told him the story of the prophet Nephi. Mary later wrote, “He gazed at me in surprise, and said, ‘child, take this book home and finish it, I can wait.’”
A short time later, Mary finished reading the book and was the first person in her town to read the entire book. She knew it was true and that it came from Heavenly Father. As she looked to the book, she looked to the Lord.
One month later a special visitor came to her house. Here is what Mary wrote about her memorable encounter that day: “When [Joseph Smith] saw me he looked at me so earnestly. … After a moment or two he … gave me a great blessing … and made me a present of the book, and said he would give Brother Morley another [copy]. … We all felt that he was a man of God, for he spoke with power, and as one having authority.”
This young girl, Mary Elizabeth Rollins, saw many other miracles in her life and always kept her testimony of the Book of Mormon. This story has special meaning to me because she is my fourth-great-aunt. Through Mary’s example, along with other experiences in my life, I have learned that one is never too young to seek and receive a personal testimony of the Book of Mormon.

One of my favorite stories with roots in Islamic traditions illustrates that especially in death we need to look for the hidden purposes of the Lord, which, when understood, turn to comfort and blessings.

It seems that Moses, being in heaven, wondered about the work of a certain angel who was departing for earth. He asked the angel if he might accompany him on his errand. The angel responded, “Nay, thou wouldst not be able to stand that which thou wouldst see.” Moses insisted, so the angel placed a condition. “No matter what thou wouldst see, thou must remain silent.” Moses agreed and the two came to earth.

They left the borders of dry land and went far out over the sea, even beyond sight of land, where they found some humble fishermen in their boat fishing. The angel, unseen, broke the boards of the keel, the boat sank, and the fishermen drowned. Moses started to protest but the angel declared, “Thou must remain silent.”

Next they came upon an Arab boy walking through the sands of the desert. Unseen, the angel breathed in the boy’s face; his blood froze, and he fell to the earth, dead. Moses started to protest but the angel silenced him, “I told thee that thou wouldst not stand what thou wouldst see. Thou must remain silent.”

Then the two came upon a poor home where lived a widow and her two sons. Their only means of survival was the produce from their small garden, protected against the wind and sands of the desert by a tall adobe wall. To Moses’ surprise the angel pushed the wall over, crushing the vines, melons, and cucumbers, which the family sorely needed. Moses could not stand it any longer. He erupted. The angel silenced him and said, “Thou canst go with me no longer. Thou must return. But first, lest thou misjudge Allah who has sent me, I will explain. The fishermen would soon have been captured by a pirate boat approaching over the horizon, and been enslaved, tortured, and killed. This way they die in the profession they loved. The Arab boy would soon have fought with another mother’s son, killing the latter. This way the second boy lives and this one dies blood guiltless. The widow’s husband, before he died, hid a fortune in the base of the adobe wall. Now the boys, rebuilding the wall, will find the fortune, invest it wisely, and prosper. But thou didst doubt. Thou canst go with me no longer.”

One example, taken from the life of Heber C. Kimball, illustrates this point. After being baptized and confirmed, he penned, “I received the Holy Ghost, as the disciples did in ancient days, which was like a consuming fire.”[4] As I studied his life, I found that he never lost that feeling even in times of great stress and trial. On 4 June 1837 the Prophet Joseph Smith said, “Brother Heber, the Spirit of the Lord has whispered to me: `Let my servant Heber go to England and proclaim my Gospel, and open the door of salvation to that nation.’” In obedience to the prophetic prompting, Heber “felt a determination to go at all hazards”[5] “I put my trust in God, believing that He would assist me in publishing the truth, give me utterance, and be a present help in time of need.[6] His confidence was not misplaced. After preaching to a gathering in Chatburn, England, he felt someone pulling at his coat exclaiming,
“Maister maister.” I turned around and asked what was wanted. . . . “Please sir, will you baptize me?” “And me?” “And me?” exclaimed more than a dozen voices. Accordingly I went down into the water and baptized twenty-five.[7]
Of his glorious success on that mission, Heber exclaimed, “Blessed be the name of the Lord, who has crowned our labors with such success!”

I soon learned to follow another kind of guidance, too. When I was young, Primary was held after school in the middle of the week. One day when I was about six years old, I was walking from Primary to my grandparent’s house. While I walked, I was thinking about the Primary lesson my teacher had just given about “turning the other cheek,” rather than trying to get even. She had taught us that fighting and quarreling are contrary to the teachings of Jesus.

As I walked along, a small group of older boys started pushing me and taunting me to fight. Normally when someone picked on me, I tried to “even the score.” But at that moment, a powerful feeling came over me that I should not follow my natural instinct to fight. After calling me a few insulting names, the boys went on their way, disappointed that they had not made me fight. This was one of the first times I remember the Holy Ghost whispering to me. Clearly, the Holy Ghost has been the strongest influence in my life.

Several years ago a friend of mine had a young daughter die in a tragic accident. Hopes and dreams were shattered. My friend felt unbearable sorrow. He began to question what he had been taught and what he had taught as a missionary. The mother of my friend wrote me a letter and asked if I would give him a blessing. As I laid my hands upon his head, I felt to tell him something that I had not thought about in exactly the same way before. The impression that came to me was: Faith is not only a feeling; it is a decision. He would need to choose faith.

My friend did not know everything, but he knew enough. He chose the road of faith and obedience. He got on his knees. His spiritual balance returned.

It has been several years since that event. A short time ago I received a letter from his son who is now serving a mission. It was full of conviction and testimony. As I read his beautiful letter, I saw how a father’s choice of faith in a very difficult time had deeply blessed the next generation.

In 2018, following an 18-year absence from the Church, I felt prompted to have our three young children blessed. Following their blessings, I experienced recurring thoughts to find the Savior and that something bigger was coming on the horizon. Slowly—and painfully, I might add—Jason, with our children, joined me in a journey back to the Church starting in early 2019. With encouragement from friends placed along our path by God, we took baby steps in gentle progression toward the Savior. We did this through small, incremental goals over a two-year process.
Come 2021, my conversion to the gospel felt sturdy. I was committed to prayer, scripture study, and attending virtual church during COVID to propel my ongoing transformation. Yet I still didn’t have the power of God that was required for my specific life circumstance. I was struggling with ongoing mental health concerns, battling to maintain sobriety from substance abuse, and dealing with other life struggles out of my control—all during a season of relentless traumas resulting from the pandemic. I was determined to handle it myself, but in truth, I required the Redeemer—I literally needed to be saved!
Our prophet’s words that Jesus Christ was with me as I faced these mountains offered hope.
“Everything good in life—every potential blessing of eternal significance—begins with faith. Allowing God to prevail in our lives begins with faith that He is willing to guide us. True repentance begins with faith that Jesus Christ has the power to cleanse, heal, and strengthen us.”3
I had faith in the Savior but wasn’t sure how to connect with His power. I wanted to take the sacrament and be in the temple. Both were out of reach during this time of disappointment, grief, white-knuckled sobriety, and home seclusion.
Over time, even with frequent prayer, I couldn’t cope on my own another day. After another family cancer diagnosis, this time for my spouse, I relapsed and reached for alcohol in desperate escape. I hit my lowest point ever, but all I wanted was to be near Christ. I felt hopeless in my imperfect faith, believed I had sinned terribly, and thought God was disappointed.
At this heartbreaking point, I exercised my last ounce of faith to surrender my will to God. I needed access to His power through the priesthood. I couldn’t move forward on my own.
So in meek faith I requested a priesthood blessing.
Knowing my struggles, friends felt inspired to bless me with renewed capacity and counsel. Through the Spirit, I was told that all my progress hadn’t been lost and that I should seek professional resources in support of my mental health struggles. Most important, I was blessed to realize the healing power of my Savior, that Jesus and God would make up the difference as I put forth my effort with a deepened faith in Them.
Hearing specific priesthood promises gave me hope that God’s power would now set me on a healing course.
“Faith will always propel us forward. Faith always increases our access to godly power.”4
With renewed faith in Jesus Christ, I found that the priesthood blessing—given in His name and by His authority—provided the springboard I needed. I reached for my Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ to strengthen my connection to Them daily. I made immediate and significant progress. God placed resources to support my mental health struggles. Daily preoccupations with alcohol were eradicated. I immersed myself in wholesome media and deep gospel education, honored the Sabbath, improved my language, talked of the Savior throughout each day, and created a sacred space in my home for prayer.
Detail from Christ and the Rich Young Ruler, by Heinrich Hofmann
I now understand that the Savior is my advocate, my friend, my champion, my encourager, and my healer through His atoning gift of love. This was my game changer in connecting with Him. He helped me reprioritize, leaving behind the cares and habits that weren’t serving my soul. Miraculously, as I’ve made prayer and spiritual habits more meaningful, I’ve received personal revelation! I accept increased guidance from the Spirit for how my family can keep moving toward Him.
“He works miracles today, and He will work miracles tomorrow.”5
Since April 2021 conference, these promises have proved true as I’ve helped my family faithfully follow God’s path. The heavens are opened, and miracles have been showered upon us:
Fear is replaced with safety through the healing power of Jesus Christ.
I’m blessed with influence to bring a more nurturing presence to our lives.
The Holy Ghost is present in our home. Our children delight in daily scriptures, family prayer, Christian music, and pictures of Jesus and temples.
My husband, Jason, has been baptized, holds the Aaronic Priesthood, and is preparing to receive the Melchizedek Priesthood.
Preoccupations with unhealthy escape have lessened. My past self, doing her best at the time, would reach for chemicals to cope. Now I come in prayer for strength.
I have received my temple endowment and now attend the temple regularly. Jason is preparing to receive his endowment, and our goal is to be sealed as a family sometime in 2022.
Our birth son is grown, has been accepted to pre-med but has decided to serve a mission first, and is enjoying the relationship between our two families.
Mindalyn (right) with her birth son, DJ, and his adoptive mother, Stacy, on the day DJ received his temple endowment.
Family photographs courtesy of the author
In an ongoing process, I’m in programs to address mental health, where God has shown His hand throughout.
Despite ongoing trials of family deaths, layoffs, cancer, and sobriety, I now realize that I have access to God’s tenderness through the gospel of Jesus Christ.
The promises of power through priesthood blessings strengthen my life exponentially.
Mercifully, I’ve grown a sincere relationship with my Savior and Eternal Father.
“The Lord does not require perfect faith for us to have access to His perfect power.”6
How generous and true is this prophetic teaching from President Nelson! I used to think the gospel was complicated. I’ve now learned through experience that even with imperfect faith, I have access to His divine power, which will move our mountains of trials—what a gift!
Mindalyn with family and friends outside the Redlands California Temple.
It’s crystal clear that God and Christ love me. They see each of us as worthy for rescue! As we desire to reach for Him, the Savior’s grace is sufficient for all. I’m grateful for our living and cheerfully loving prophet, President Russell M. Nelson, and the heavenly revelation he shares with us. He is God’s prophet on earth. Following our prophet’s teachings has changed my life forever. I share my witness from experience that “faith is the power that enables the unlikely to accomplish the impossible.”7
The gospel of Jesus Christ is one of power, of grace, of love! What is required from me is continued desire to reach for Them and show up with my imperfect offerings. Christ, through His Atonement, will make up the difference.
The author lives in California.

I remember the summer before entering college having the chance to go to Monument Valley to work on the first high school built there for the Navajo people. As I was about to leave home, my father asked me if I was going to take my Book of Mormon. I hadn’t thought to, but I paid heed to his question. I remember lying in my bunk late at night at the construction site and feeling the spirit and power of the Book of Mormon.

I remember as a young missionary in the Great Lakes Mission coming to that great knowledge and absolute testimony that the Book of Mormon was another witness of another nation that Jesus is the Christ and that this Church is true. From those experiences there burns in my heart today that divine witness of the message of the Book of Mormon, of Christ as our Savior and Redeemer, and of the Restoration of His Church in these latter days.

Valerie Wilson, 19, Coventry Ward—I had heard that there was to be some kind of flag ceremony at the entertainment, and frankly I was doubtful. I should explain that the British as a nation are known for their lack of outward emotion. A show of patriotism in any form, short of standing to honour the Queen, is just not British! It may well be that Britain’s extraordinary history of power and influence had had the effect of making the self-conscious British loath to demonstrate their love of country in front of strangers for fear of offending them, and because of this Britishers have simply lost the habit. Whatever the explanation, that night was the first time I have ever heard “Land of Hope and Glory” played just for the sake of it, and it was a glorious moment. I saw girls march proudly, carrying the familiar flags of the United Kingdom. I joined in the cheers with everyone else as we expressed, for the first time in our lives, our deep and sincere love for our country.

The first pioneers who came to the Salt Lake Valley struggled hard to raise crops in what had been reported to them earlier to be only a desert wasteland.
As the Saints traveled west, Brigham Young recorded in his journal that Jim Bridger, an early explorer of the West, offered to give $1,000 for the first bushel of corn grown in the valley of the Great Salt Lake. This rugged explorer claimed that the late frosts in the spring and the early frosts in the fall made it impossible to raise corn. Brigham Young replied, “Wait a little and we’ll show you.”
The Saints were full of joy when they found the soil was rich and that they could raise vegetables, fruits, and grains of almost every kind.

Some years ago, Sister Rasband and I were at the Salt Lake Temple for the sealing of one of our daughters. As we stood outside the temple with a younger daughter not yet old enough to attend the ceremony, we spoke of the importance of being sealed in the holy temple of God. As my mother had taught me years before, we said to our daughter, “We want you safely sealed in the temple, and we want you to promise us that when you find your eternal companion, you will make a date with him to be sealed in the temple.” She gave us her word.

She has since stated that our talk and her promise protected her and reminded her “what was most important.” She later made sacred covenants as she was sealed to her husband in the temple.

In September 2011 the Sheffield stake presidency was reorganized, with Bishop Dundon called as the new stake president. A month later a fireside was held for both English and Slovak Saints in which interpreters were present.
While sitting on the stand, President Dundon felt impressed that a Slovak group needed to be formed that would be attached to the Sheffield First Ward but would meet at a facility in the Slovak neighborhood. A suitable meeting place was soon found and rooms rented. On December 11, 2011, the first block of meetings was held in the new facility. Sheffield First Ward leaders optimistically hoped that 50 people would attend. Instead, 84 people—including 63 Slovaks—attended.
Following the reorganization of the Sheffield stake, Robert McEwen was called as bishop of the Sheffield First Ward. Brother Nettleship continued to serve as mission leader. Under both bishops, the ward mission leader and the ward council did a remarkable job of leading the ward to “be with and strengthen” the Slovak Saints (D&C 20:53).
The ward council addressed issues such as how to provide for the new members’ needs, how to help them fully participate in ward activities, how to nurture them in the gospel, and how to overcome language barriers. Council members fasted and prayed for divine help and then worked hard. They visited the new members and participated in teaching appointments with the full-time missionaries. They provided transportation. They ordered Church materials in Slovak. They took the newly baptized members to the temple to perform baptisms for the dead.
Ward leaders also organized a Christmas service project. Ward members donated funds and collected toys, clothes, and other gifts. Large Christmas gift bags that included food for a Christmas dinner were distributed on Christmas Eve to the Slovak Saints and other families within the ward boundaries.
Long-time members and new members understood little of each other’s spoken language, but they all felt the warmth of the language of genuine love. A remarkable feeling of joy, happiness, and excitement enveloped members and investigators.
Over the next year this little group developed into a solid Church unit, with whole families being baptized and uniting with the Church. Fathers were ordained to the Aaronic and Melchizedek Priesthoods, sons were ordained to the Aaronic Priesthood, a Primary with more than 20 children was established, and Young Men and Young Women programs were organized with more than 25 youth attending weekly. The Lord provided a full-time missionary from the Czech Republic who could speak the language and add support to the group. At the same time, these families sent referrals to their homeland.
Why did this happen? Because God has not ceased to be a God of miracles. Because faithful missionaries diligently sought those who were prepared to receive the gospel. Because the stake president and bishops acted in faith and followed the guidance of the Holy Ghost. Because a ward council took responsibility and worked in unity. Because members learned the language of love and acted upon invitations from their leaders, having faith and confidence that God meant what He said: “I am a God of miracles; and I will show unto the world that I am the same yesterday, today, and forever” (2 Nephi 27:23).
The success in Sheffield does not need to be a singular event. It reminds us of the promises given through the prophets and can ignite our faith and our desire to become instruments in the hands of God by inviting people around us to come unto Christ. If we do so, we will place ourselves in a position where the Lord can bless us with opportunities to teach, activate, and nurture others. And we will see evidences that He continues to be a God of miracles.

Stepping gingerly into the baptismal font, I felt a surge of peace flood my mind and heart. My bishop smiled and took my hand. At the threshold of baptism, I stood comfortably and intently awaiting my purpose.
In the font, I knew the rest of my life would be different. It would be a lot harder, but I realized that part of growing up is making choices that are right. As I leaned back into the water, I felt peace! I could hardly believe the joy. I had decided what I believed and took courage in my own conviction.

After crossing the Colorado River by ferry, the company still faced more than 240 kilometers of rugged ground. Elizabeth M. Decker described this land in a letter to her parents. “It’s the roughest country you or anybody else ever seen; it’s nothing in the world but rocks and holes, hills, and hollows. The mountains are just one solid rock as smooth as an apple.” Because the land turned out to be rougher than anticipated, the journey took much longer than expected—six months instead of six weeks—making the so-called shortcut extremely arduous. Two babies were born along the way. Supplies had to be brought in to the company by mule train. On 6 April 1880, the exhausted company came upon a few acres of good farmland near a small river. They named the spot Bluff City.
Though travel worn, the pioneers had remained true to their resolve to follow the prophet and move forward, and they had endured the hardships in good spirits. As one member of the company recalled, “In a camp … moving … through extremely rough country, one would naturally look for some trouble and a few accidents, but this was not the case. All was hustle and harmony.”

There is a little story about Sister McKay, the wife of President David O. McKay, when she began teaching school. As the principal introduced her to the class, he pointed to a certain boy and said he was a troublemaker. She sensed the boy’s embarrassment and feared he would live up to his reputation, so she wrote a note and slipped it to him as she passed his desk. It said, “Earl, I think the principal was mistaken about your being a bad boy. I trust you, and know that you are going to help me make this room the best in the school.” Earl not only became a paragon of scholastic virtue but also one of the town’s most important people.

Elder D. Todd Christopherson shares his experience in his “How I Hear Him” video. He relates how he went to the sacred grove as a teenager expecting answers like Joseph Smith did. Elder Christofferson was there for a long time praying very sincerely, and nothing came. There was no response, no answer. He gave up and left disappointed. Six weeks later, he was home, reading the Book of Mormon, pondering in a quiet moment, and a confirming spirit came flooding over him, when the Holy Spirit spoke to his spirit, and he knew. He learned from that experience that you can’t tell God how and when He responds to our prayers. It wasn’t easy, but he did receive answers. [8] It required effort on his part– just as it took effort on our part to find our way here.

Tonight I have with me an old envelope. I know it’s old because the postage is only six cents, and that means it was mailed a very long time ago. On the back of this envelope are directions to a destination.

It belonged to a young couple in their twenties and newly married. They were romantic and idealistic and optimistic about their future. He was in graduate school. She taught high school to support the two of them. One bright autumn day in New England they took a picnic lunch out to Walden Pond, near Boston. For those of you who love literature, you’ll remember that Walden Pond and Henry David Thoreau go together. Like Thoreau they chose this location to think and ponder about their future. The question they had come to consider was this: What should they do with the rest of their lives?

They wanted a road map for the future. They had a new marriage. It was a promising partnership. The future stretched out before them, and they wanted to make the very most of it. They talked of what to do and where to live. They talked about the children they wanted to have. They wanted to develop talents and share what they had been given. They wanted the world to be better because they had lived in it. They wanted to serve God always.

They were goal setters, so after a very philosophical afternoon and lots of discussion, they wrote down on the back of an envelope a list of goals and hopes and dreams that they intended would set the tone for the rest of their lives together. They drove away from that beautiful, serene setting with hope and optimism and the envelope.

The practical, routine, daily things of life took over. The envelope was soon forgotten. They got caught up in life. They prayed often and worked hard, and they served others. They started their family and finished graduate school. He worked at his career. She worked at being a young mother. They served—both in their Church and in the community. They had more children. Life got busier and busier. They didn’t think about their Walden Pond envelope much at all. Things weren’t so philosophical anymore, but they were happy. They were very happy. They just kept trying, with each choice they made, to see which path God wanted them to take.

Many years passed. They faced trials—some of them were very hard ones. There were a variety of challenges—some of them could have broken their spirits. They were middle-aged, and they plucked gray hairs and watched their waistlines expand. They moved to a new city, where the husband was hired for a very responsible job.

One day, in the process of the move, she found among some long-forgotten papers the Walden Pond envelope. It was old and yellowed. On the back was the list of goals made by the young newlywed couple so many, many years before.

As she read down the list, tears came to her eyes. The years since they had spent that long-ago afternoon at Walden Pond flashed by. As her eyes focused on each item, she realized that most of the goals on the list had come to pass. Interestingly enough, her husband’s new job was the fulfillment of the final notation they had made at Walden Pond. It was time now to get a new envelope and make a new list.

Christ has helped me through many trials in my life, even those times when heaven seemed so far away and I felt I was suffering alone. Ryan and I suffered through several miscarriages and two failed adoptions at the beginning of our marriage. Given what I’d gone through growing up, I protested to Heavenly Father that I deserved an exemption from any more trials. But that isn’t how it works, is it? We grieved and suffered over infertility, and the sadness and agony consumed us for over five long years. Any hope for children of our own seemed impossible during those times, but we lived our lives the best we knew how. And when my faith lacked, I had to rely on church leaders, family, and strong friends during those years. Then, what do you think came next? Surprise! Heavenly Father blessed us with four wonderful children—two sets of twins, back to back!

After all, all things are done in His timeline, not ours. I know sometimes the way forward seems grim when you’re in the thick of it, but if you are out there feeling alone, overwhelmed, or confused, or whatever challenge you are facing, don’t ever give up. Keep doing what you know is right and turn to our Savior for help. I know that the day will finally come when we will look back to find that the hardships we experience today are temporary.

“Sarah Jeffreys!”
Gram’s sudden calling of my name made me jump.
“You’ve been sitting at that window for a half hour. A watched pot never boils, you know. Now get up from there and make yourself useful.”
Gram had that merry look in her eyes, and she winked at me, so I just grinned and kept looking out the window. I knew that she was anxious too. Gramps had left early that morning for the two-hour wagon trip to town. I figured it would take another two hours to pick up the supplies and hear the latest gossip, then two hours back. He should be coming around the bend any minute.
Then, as if I had willed it, there he was. “Gram, he’s here! He’s here!” I leapt off the window seat and was out the door before Gram had time to lay down the ladle she had been stirring the stew with.
“Sarah, you be careful,” she called.
But I was already down the steps, across the yard, and halfway to the wagon. Gramps grinned and waved as I turned and ran alongside the slow-clopping horses.
“Did you get them, Gramps?” I shouted. But I knew he couldn’t hear me above the clatter of the wagon, so I had to be content to simply run with the team.
Gram stood patiently on the porch, shading her eyes against the hot sun while Gramps unhitched the team, but finally even she couldn’t stand it any longer. “Robert Jeffreys, are you going to keep me in suspense all day? Did you get them or didn’t you?”
Gramps stepped up onto the porch and went into the house. “I got them, Violet,” he said, “and they’re the prettiest things you ever saw.” From his knapsack he took a small wooden box and laid it on the kitchen table. I leaned forward, eager to see.
Gram lifted the lid, and there, cradled on some soft cloth, sat a gleaming set of ordered-through-the-catalogue false teeth. Gram was short and kind of round and hadn’t had any teeth for as long as I could remember. I thought she looked just fine, but she always said her face looked like an old shrunken apple since her teeth went. It had taken her two and a half years to save enough milk-and-egg money to buy the $12.99 dentures.
“Aren’t you going to try them out?” I asked.
Gram’s face went kind of pink, but she carefully picked them up and took them to the washbasin. She ladled some water over them, then polished them dry with the soft cloth from the box. Gram turned and looked hard at us. “I can’t do it with you two watching me like cats hanging over a saucer of milk!”
Gramps and I grinned at each other and turned our backs. When we heard a muffled “OK,” we turned around again. I couldn’t believe the difference. Her lips stuck out smoothlike instead of sinking in the way they had before. She looked different—prettier somehow.
“Well?” she asked, looking at us.
Gramps took two giant steps and grasped her shoulders. “You look like a world of pretty,” he pronounced, “but then you always do.”
Gram turned as red as any young girl.
While Gramps washed up for supper, he told us all the happenings from town—new families moving in, new babies, weddings, and crop prices. Then he said, “Ned Wilson saw signs of Indians up past Elliott’s place.”
Now that was news! “Indians!” I shouted. “Do you think they’ll be peaceful?”
Gramps just smiled. “Yes, Sarah, the Indians around here are pretty friendly. They’re just passing through on their way to winter quarters, so I don’t expect any trouble. Once in a while one or two will do some mischief, but they’re usually pretty quiet.”
Gram used her new teeth for the first time on the hot and bubbly stew that she had made. She had always mashed everything that she ate, but today she spooned the potatoes and vegetables into her mouth and chewed them gingerly. Then, when she bit into a chunk of her oven-hot bread and tried to pull the bread away, her top teeth came with it and plopped right into her bowl of stew!
There was a long minute of silence as Gram stared down at the bread soaking up the stew, teeth perched proudly on top. Suddenly she started laughing, and soon all three of us had tears of laughter streaming down our faces. “I think they’re a mite big,” Gram said when she could catch her breath.
The teeth were too big. They made clicking noises and slipped when she talked, and sometimes she had to clap her hand over her mouth to keep them from falling out. But she was determined to wear them.
A couple of weeks later Gramps came in early one evening and said, “The Simmons boy rode by today to ask if I could come over to their place to help with a barn raising.”
Gram looked up from her sewing. “How long do you expect to be gone?”
“Can’t really tell, but I’d guess two days at the most.”
So Gramps was off at daybreak, and Gram and I settled into running the place without him for a couple of days. It wasn’t much trouble feeding the animals and doing the milking and the general work about the farm, but I always missed Gramps when he was gone, and I could tell that Gram did too. She never had that sprightliness in her walk when he was away.
I had just finished the evening milking and was helping Gram scrub some potatoes for supper when we heard the door latch lift. I remember thinking that Gramps had sure made it back fast. But when I turned, my shout of welcome choked off in my throat …
An Indian, not Gramps, stood in the doorway. Gramps had said that the Indians were friendly, but this one didn’t look friendly. He had a scowl on his face, and he was pointing a rifle right at us! Looking around the room, his eyes rested on the chicken browning on the spit. He stepped farther into the room, and I felt Gram stiffen beside me. The Indian pointed to the chicken, then to his mouth and back to the chicken. He mumbled something that I couldn’t understand.
Gram and I just stood there, and I don’t mind admitting that I was scared to death. The Indian kept on pointing to the chicken behind us and to his mouth. Then I guess he got fed up with us standing there like a pair of statutes, because before I knew what was happening, he grabbed me by the back of the neck and flung me out of his way.
That did it! Gram snapped to life, eyes sparkling and teeth bared. Shrieking, “Don’t you touch that girl!” she sprang forward. And as she did, both bottom and top teeth came flying out of her mouth and landed on the floor right at the Indian’s feet.
Never have I seen such a look of astonishment on anyone’s face. That Indian stood stock-still and stared at those teeth lying as pretty as you please in the middle of the floor. He looked up at Gram, who had skidded to a halt, hands clapped to her mouth; then he looked back at the teeth.
Suddenly, with a screech loud enough to raise the hair on my neck, the Indian turned and practically flew out the door. He was still running by the time I had picked myself up.
I watched him through the window. “You did it, Gram!” I shouted. “Those teeth of yours scared him clean away.” I turned to look at Gram.
Gram had the teeth in her hand and a sad smile on her face. “They’re broken,” she said finally.
I went over, and sure enough, there was a wide crack across the top set of teeth. “Gram, I’m sorry,” I said.
But Gram laughed. “They never did fit proper, anyway,” she said. “They rubbed when I ate, and made my gums sore.” She laid them on the mantel. “I had to wear them, after all I paid for them, but now I won’t have to.”
As long as Gram lived, the teeth stayed on that mantel as a reminder of her surprise attack on the Indian.

There’s a place in Taiwan where a piece of the moon dropped in the ocean. Or so it seems. Standing on a barren, wind-carved rock at Yehliu (yeh-leo) Park, surrounded by solemn gray, cratered stone, the small group of LDS Scouts looked more like refugees on an alien world than teenagers ready to practice semaphore signaling.
But they broke out their flags anyway. Two of the young men in the group scampered up outcroppings, unfurled the semaphores, and with rapid arm swinging began spelling out messages to each other. Even on rainy days, Yehliu is crowded with sightseers, and the Scouts soon had an audience cheering them on. The Scouts flashed the red-and-white flags over their heads, down by their feet, out to their sides. Hours and hours of practice paid off as the sentences made sense and the signaling drill was completed.
Business taken care of, the Scouts were now ready for some fun. Like Scouts anywhere, this group from the Taipei Stake loves songs with hand gestures. They sang several of their favorites as they walked along the rock cliffs that dip down to form the Pacific shore. Then, as they rested, they spoke about Scouting and about the Church.
“I’ve been in Scouts for about six months,” said 18-year-old Hsieh Mi-ch’un. “I have been able to make quite a few good friends, and I’ve also learned a lot. I have been taught how to tie knots and do first aid, for example, and I know how to set up a tent. These things are fun to learn for someone who has grown up in a large, crowded city like Taipei.”
Liu Tao-chih said, “I’m only 13, but I’m the second oldest Scout in our group. I joined the Scout program because I want to serve people, to do a good turn daily. The core of our Scout group consists of the young male members of the Church. We train ourselves and some of our nonmember friends to explore outdoor life, to appreciate nature, to learn about things we never had access to before. Especially in our group, we emphasize training our Aaronic Priesthood members so that they will grow strong in the Church and be strengthened for their lives.”
Once a month, the Boy Scouts join with the stake’s Young Women for some sort of outing, like a recent talent show held in the stake center. But on this particular Saturday, anyone interested in learning about semaphore signaling was invited on the trip to Yehliu. Scoutmaster Wan Chin Li and Young Women leader Chou Yu-Ch’ung came along to supervise and to teach the group about using flags to send messages.
“Our activities are separate for the most part,” Tao-Chih explained, “as they are for Scouts and Young Women in the United States. But every once in a while we share an activity where there is mutual interest. We hope the young sisters can become more active in the Church and learn the many skills to help our country and our society.”
Li Chiu-hsiueh, 17, said, “The Church makes me very happy. And I’m glad to learn the things I learn by associating with the Scouts. We learn manners and mottoes that remind us to do good for others.
“One of the wonderful things about being a young woman is to be able to live happily,” she added. “The gospel teaches us how to be happy, how to find joy each day in serving others.”
The members, from the Hsin Tien and Taipei Third wards and the San Ch’ung Branch, spent a fantastic day at the beach. They saw rock formations that looked like church bells, a beached turtle, an elephant, and a queen wearing a crown. They visited the vendor’s stalls along the sidewalk leading to the park and wondered over the dozens of varieties of shells for sale. They even talked to one of the ladies about the Church when she asked who sponsored their Scout troop. They told her how the Church has promoted Scouting in Taiwan and how proud they are to be a part of the program.
Finally the light rain that had drizzled all day long turned into a downpour. With their semaphore flags tucked under their arms, the Scouts and Young Women raced to the bus. They knew the ride home would be short. And they knew there would soon be other fun activities, thanks to Scouting and thanks to the Church.
(The relationship between Scouting and the Young Men and Young Women programs varies from one country to another.)