Gospel Story Finder

After Spencer set his individual goals, he and his parents came up with a great plan. As a family, they study scriptures together, but they also wanted to review the talks given at general conference. His parents offered him the chance to be the leader in those discussions. He would choose the talk from the most recent conference, and every Sunday they would spend about 20 minutes talking about it. Spencer says, “I read the selected article in the Ensign beforehand. Then I prepare questions for people to answer. It gives me the opportunity to lead in the family, sort of practice for becoming a dad. It’s kind of cool.”
This family study fulfills his Duty to God goal for “Pray and Study the Scriptures” during the priest year. He follows the Duty to God pattern:
Learn: He arranges for a Sunday afternoon time for the presentation. He gathers information to support the talk he has chosen to present.
Act: He reads the talk from the Ensign or watches the videos of the talks online and prepares discussion questions.
Share: He presents his discussion and questions to his family.
This experience to fulfill his Duty to God goal has helped Spencer stay on track. He says, “The project has affected us a lot. Now that it is a Duty to God goal, I’m more motivated to do it. My family has been more persistent.”
For the family, Spencer’s project has strengthened them. The plan they made together while driving in the car has proven to be a move forward for them all.

A man wrote a General Authority about how the power of the Atonement helped him with his problem of same-gender attraction. He had been excommunicated for serious transgressions that violated his temple covenants and his responsibilities to his children. He had to choose whether to attempt to live the gospel or whether to continue a course contrary to its teachings.
“I knew it would be difficult,” he wrote, “but I didn’t realize what I would have to go through.” His letter describes the emptiness and loneliness and the incredible pain he experienced from deep within his soul as he sought to return. He prayed mightily for forgiveness, sometimes for hours at a time. He was sustained by reading the scriptures, by the companionship of a loving bishop, and by priesthood blessings. But what finally made the difference was the help of the Savior. He explained:
“It [was] only through Him and His Atonement. … I now feel an overwhelming gratitude. My pains have been almost more than I could bear at times, and yet they were so small compared to what He suffered. Where there once was darkness in my life, there is now love and gratitude.”
He continues: “Some profess that change is possible and therapy is the only answer. They are very learned on the subject and have so much to offer those who struggle … , but I worry that they forget to involve Heavenly Father in the process. If change is to happen, it will happen according to the will of God. I also worry that many people focus on the causes of [same-gender attraction]. … There is no need to determine why I have [this challenge]. I don’t know if I was born with it, or if environmental factors contributed to it. The fact of the matter is that I have this struggle in my life and what I do with it from this point forward is what matters” (letter dated Mar. 25, 2006).

I know a former mission president with several beautiful daughters. Several of these young women accompanied their parents into the mission field. As this mission president and his wife neared the end of their three-year period of service, I asked him how the mission experience had been for their daughters. His response was interesting. Said he, "My daughters have learned that not all returned missionaries are created equal!"

My point quite simply is just this– get well enough acquainted with someone to learn their heart and their character first hand, and not just from his or her “resume.”

I thought back on another little child, under different circumstances, who had the Christmas spirit. As a very young elder, I went to the old Primary Children’s Hospital on North Temple Street to provide blessings for the sick children. As we entered the door, we noted the Christmas tree with its bright and friendly lights. We saw carefully wrapped packages beneath its outstretched limbs. Then we went through the corridors where lay tiny boys and girls—some with a cast upon an arm, some with a cast upon a leg, others with ailments that perhaps could not be cured so ­readily—each one with a smile upon his face.
I walked toward the bedside of one little boy, and he said, “What is your name?”
I told him.
He said, “Will you give me a blessing?”
The blessing was provided, and as we turned to leave his bedside, he said, “Thank you.”
We walked a few steps, and then I heard his little call: “Brother Monson.”
I turned.
He said, “Merry Christmas to you.” And a great smile flashed across his countenance.
That boy had the Christmas spirit, as did the little girl in downtown Salt Lake City.

I would like to tell you an event in my life which I think typifies what is going through my mind and has gone through my mind the last few weeks. The event started with a phone call from a Mr. Marion T. Romney. My secretary came to me in a meeting, and she said, “A Marion T. Romney wants to talk to you.”
I said, “I think that’s Marion G. Romney.”
“He said you would leave this meeting if I told you that he was calling you.”
I said, “He’s right.”
I think my secretary would like to have told his secretary that I would call back. But I went to the phone, and Brother Romney asked me five questions. He asked me if I would go on a mission; he asked me if I was worthy; he was concerned about my 17-year-old son, my finances, and my health.
I will tell you this, something I learned long ago: It is a question of free agency. On any one of those five questions, had I had to give a no I would have lost my free agency. I was financially able, I was morally able, and I knew the law of consecration and what it meant; and I appreciated the opportunity.
I called my wife immediately afterward and then went home. I talked with my wife, as Elder L. Tom Perry talked with his wife. We have married similar spirits. She has followed me all over the world. We have moved 15 times. She has learned two languages, brought up our children, and has always supported me.
I remember one time after coming back from an international trip. I had been gone for some time. My wife sat down on the arm of the chair, and I put my head on her shoulder. It was near the end of the month, and she asked me if I had completed my home teaching. I will be honest; I had other things in mind. But I went and did my home teaching. That is her training. So it was; I was beginning to learn the law of consecration.
A few weeks later the phone rang again. This time it was a man whom I have greatly admired—Brother Arthur Haycock. I spoke to him briefly; and then, the prophet’s voice—distinctive, clear, the clarion call.
“Brother Hales, do you mind if we change your mission?”
I had thought I was going to the London England Mission. But I figured someone else would have that call, and I said, “I will be glad to go to whatever place you send me.”
He said, “Do you mind if we change it to Salt Lake City?”
And I said, “No, that will be fine, President.”
“Do you mind if it is little bit longer than three years?”
“However long you want it, President.”
“We would like a lifetime of service.”
The past 20 years swept before me. I felt like the man who had fallen off a precipice, who was grabbing on to a limb which was giving way slowly, and who cried fervently in a prayer, “Save me!” And as he looked down to the rocks far below, a voice came clear and strong: “Let go, and you will be protected.” At that, the man looked up in the air again and said, “Is somebody else up there?”
The call was clear. I had to let go of everything that I had known and what I had been striving for in my life to become an Assistant to the Twelve.
I have learned from Joseph Fielding Smith, and have talked to young people, about the law of consecration. It is not one particular event; it is a lifetime, day by day, in which we all strive to do our best that we might live honorable lives, that we might live the best we can in the service of others, as President Joseph Fielding Smith talked about—not as his grandfather, Hyrum Smith, gave his life when he was with the Prophet, but giving our lives each day.
With that, the prophet talked to my wife. We held each other in our arms and said nothing, and we knew that we had and that we would dedicate and consecrate our lives to that mission, whatever it might be, in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. We asked our questions which Elder Ashton taught us: “Why me?” And that is past us.
I will say this: It is not in death or in one event that we give our lives, but in every day as we are asked to do it.
In the Regional Representative work, I have been able, over the past five years, to have the hardening of the steel—to watch and work with these men who have been called as special witnesses of God, that they might know and teach and train the priesthood holders with whom they deal.
Do you realize that these men have revelation every Sunday when a stake is formed? As a Regional Representative assisting and kneeling in prayer with them as they give voice through the Spirit, one is able to participate in knowing that God lives, that Jesus is the Christ, that we have a prophet of God who is here this day, and that we have special witnesses who will lead and guide us, if we will but listen to their voice.
I ask the Lord in prayer that I might be able to be an example to help lift others, as these men have been over the years. My 17-year-old son said to me, “Dad, do you think, really, you will ever be like them?”
He said it in a little nicer way, but I thought of my life which I dedicate and give and consecrate, that I might be an instrument in His hand, working under the direction of all the General Authorities and asking their help that we might work as one.
I dedicate my life and service, and as Paul declared in First Corinthians, “And my speech and preaching was not with enticing words of man’s wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power:
“That your faith should not stand in the wisdom of men, but in the power of God.” (1 Cor. 2:4–5.)
I ask the Lord’s blessings upon all those who have made this day possible for me: my Primary and Sunday School teachers; a mother and father who are truly “goodly parents,” who have taught me and who have been an example for my whole life; my brother and sister have always been examples for me to follow with their faith and service in the Church; my wife and my boys—my son on a mission, Stephen, and David, who is here in Salt Lake with me now. They are a great strength to me.
I ask the Lord’s blessings, that I might be one in purpose with the Twelve and with all the General Authorities, and with you, my brothers and sisters; and I say to the priesthood holders that any one of you could be here this day. One cannot ask the question “Why me?” and dwell on it. But I will do as the prophet has said, to put behind me my past life and dedicate and consecrate all my time, talents, and efforts to His work. And I say this in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

Others, like Rose Thompson, who was born in England, feel a kinship with the Mormon pioneers despite the fact that their ancestors were not among those who emigrated to Utah. Rose recalls being ill at age ten, and thinking about the pioneers’ courage in the face of hardship. “I wondered what would have happened to me if I had been a pioneer crossing the plains instead of being in a comfortable bed with a doctor near by,” she says. “I decided that I would have died along the way. I gave thanks that I belong to this generation and determined to bear up under my problems as the pioneers did under theirs.”

After her marriage, Rose and her husband moved to Edinburgh. There they often visited an elderly sister who had served as a “pioneer” in the Church for many years—in both the Relief Society and in the Young Women program. The woman had lost her husband and two sons to the sea.

Rose says, “When I asked her what life was like when she was young and what she did in the Church, she just said, ‘We did what needed to be done.’ She didn’t have any stories to tell me, but she shared her strong pioneer philosophy. When I faced new and difficult situations with my children and Church assignments, I found it helped me considerably to remember: just do what needs to be done.”

Cindy Shropshal, 18, Perth. For Cindy, fellowship in the Church started with friendship in school. She became good friends with a guy in her English class—Cliff Allen. One night they went out with another classmate, who had a reputation as a drinker. Cliff insisted on an alcohol-free night. When they asked Cliff why he didn’t drink, Cindy recalls, “He started telling me about the Church. I started to feel the Spirit. I thought about it a lot that evening. I had been searching for the true church. That night I knew this was the church I should join.”

Eric couldn’t stop grinning as he walked off the soccer field, the field where his team had just won the league championship. Eric was hot and tired but he knew he had played his best.
As he picked up his bike, he thought of his dad’s familiar words: “Not much of what is important in life comes easily,” his father said. “Our effort puts a shine in things—such a shine sometimes that they glow for years and years in our hearts.”
“This game will definitely glow for years!” Eric thought.
“Hey, Eric!” a voice called from behind him. He turned around and grinned at his teammate, Clay. “Where are you going?” Clay asked. “The victory party is at the coach’s house.”
“I can’t go,” Eric said. “I promised Davy I’d come over right after the game. I was going to spend the rest of the day and evening with him.”
Clay looked upset. “How much fun can you have with someone who’s sick all the time, and can’t even leave the house? We just won the championship, Eric. Isn’t that worth something?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Coach said a reporter is coming to the party. He’s going to take our pictures and interview us. We’re going to be in the newspaper!”
Eric’s eyes widened. “Really?” Clay’s excitement was contagious. “I guess I could just see Davy later tonight,” he said.
“You can’t,” Clay said. “Don’t forget the coach said if we won the game he would take us on an overnight campout to Big Bear Falls. Well, the campout is tonight. You don’t want to miss out on that, do you?”
“No way!” Eric said.
“Davy’s just a sick kid with nowhere to go and nothing to do, except ruin somebody else’s fun,” Clay said, spinning a soccer ball on his finger. “Come on, Eric. It’s time to celebrate!”
Eric eyed the spinning soccer ball. The more he looked at it the more his mind began to spin, and he got caught up in the moment. “OK, let’s go!” he said. He jumped on his bike and headed across the field toward the rest of his team.
During the reporter’s interview, Eric looked at the clock in the coach’s living room. It was three o’clock. He had promised Davy he would be to his house by one. He knew Davy would be disappointed. He always looked forward to Eric’s visits with excitement. But because of school, homework, soccer practice, and family and church activities, it was hard for Eric to spend a lot of time with Davy. But today Eric was going to spend the whole afternoon and evening, and Davy had been marking off the days on the calendar for weeks.
The reporter asked each boy how it felt to be part of a winning team. When Eric’s turn came, he didn’t answer. He was thinking of the time he and his father were hiking in the Big Bear Mountains. They had come to a three-way fork in the trail and had to decide which path to follow. “Like most things in life, Eric,” his dad said, “it comes down to choices. It’s getting late, so …”
Eric studied the three paths. One was overgrown and hard to see in the evening shadows. It looked jungly and mysterious. The second was straight, narrow, and clearly defined, but uninteresting. The third trail was wide and curving with room to wander.
“What will it be?” Eric’s dad asked.
“The wide one, I guess,” he said. “There are lots of turns so it will be more exciting, not knowing what’s ahead.”
They started down the path, but 20 minutes later it ended at the edge of a cliff. Below them in the distance they could make out the small lake where their family had set up camp. Shadows crept across the woodlands below and the sun had sunk behind the mountains.
“Now which path, Eric?” his dad asked.
“How about the jungly one?” Eric suggested. “It looked cool.”
They made their way back to the original path, then started down the dark, overgrown trail.
After a few minutes, though, the path was lost in the tangles of underbrush. “What do you think we should do now?” Eric’s dad asked. “It’s getting dark and we’re no closer to camp than we were two hours ago.”
Eric pulled a thorn from his shirt and rubbed a scratch on his arm. “I guess we better get back to the path we were on in the first place.”
His dad nodded, and the two started back. They finally set their feet back on the original path and faced the trails at the triple fork. It was dark now, but the stars lit up the final path. “What do you say we take that third trail, Eric?”
Eric glanced around uneasily at the darkening woods and took hold of his father’s hand. “Yes,” he said. “I can see the path clearly because it’s straight, and it’s narrow so we won’t wander off it.”
As they made their way through the night, Eric’s dad spoke up. “The Savior said that we should always take the straight and narrow path for the very reasons you pointed out. We can clearly see our way and won’t stray from the path unless we choose to. This path is like the iron rod in Lehi’s dream, isn’t it? Straight and true. And look,” he said, pointing toward the stars. “They light the path, like the prophets we have to guide us back to Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.”
They paused on a small knoll above the lake, and looking down they could see a glowing light in the darkness where Eric’s mother had started dinner over the campfire. “Kind of looks like the tree of life in Lehi’s dream, don’t you think?” his dad asked. “A welcome sight to any weary, faithful traveler on the road of life. And just like the food your mom is preparing, the Lord has filled His living tree of life with sustenance to nourish our spirits and lift us up in our darkest hours.”
Eric squeezed his father’s hand, and his eyes filled with warm tears.
“What are you crying for, Eric?” Clay laughed. Eric looked around and suddenly realized he was still in the coach’s living room surrounded by his teammates.
The reporter quickly wrote on his notepad and said, “It’s his way of saying what it feels like to be part of a winning team.”
“What it is,” Eric said, “is my knowing that I want to be a part of another winning team, as well.”
The boys looked confused. “Another winning team?” one of them blurted. “What team is that?”
Eric whispered something to the coach, waved good-bye, and left the room.
“What did he say, Coach?” Clay asked.
Their coach smiled. “He told me the name of the other team he wanted to be a part of—the Lord’s team. And he said to be a part of it, he needed to be somewhere else. Any of you boys know where that is?”
“Davy’s place, I think,” Clay said slowly.
The coach’s smile deepened.
Two weeks later, Davy passed away quietly in his sleep.
A few weeks after that, Eric and his father were hiking in the Big Bear Mountains. When they reached that familiar triple fork in the trail, Eric paused and studied the straight, narrow path. He took his dad’s hand and they stood quietly for a few moments.
“Which path do you want to take, Eric?” his dad asked.
“The straight and narrow one, Dad,” he said.
“You’re sure?” his father asked, smiling.
“It’s one thing I am sure about,” Eric smiled back. “It is the right way.”
“If we stay within the lines that God has marked, he will protect us, and we can arrive safely at our destination.”Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, “The Straight and Narrow Way,” Ensign, Nov. 1990, 64.

Currently I am swimming, serving as a student body officer, learning the piano and bass trombone, playing the piano for priesthood opening exercises, keeping an A average in AP classes, doing my duties as a priest and Eagle Scout, and holding a job to earn money for my mission. Most of the times overlap. I finally had to sit down and make a weekly schedule. This helped tremendously. I left at least 10 minutes of “me time” between each of these activities. But when work and swim continued to fill the same time slot, I had to drop swim for a while. That relieved much of the stress I was going through. Sometimes you just have to let things go, and prioritize your activities in order of importance.
Ryan G., 18, Mississippi

To understand President McKay and a little bit of what you have emanated here on your campus, he grew up in a day when the eighth grade was the expected education for any young person. Most people in our town didn't even get to the eighth grade but those who did, they had fulfilled what you would think of as a high school education today.

At one time President Mckay's mother, we called her Aunt Jeanette, received an inheritance of $2500. All those around her were advising her, in particular, her brother in law, Isaac McKay, who was a very successful businessman, advised Aunt Jeanette, "Now take that $2500 and invest it and only use the interest for what you want. That would serve you for a long time in your life." Aunt Jeannette declined all the advice. She took the $2500, she provided wagon, team of horses, loaded in the wagon some flour, some potatoes, and other things to eat and keep, put four of her children in the wagon, tied dairy cow on behind the back of the wagon and sent them off 75 miles to Salt Lake City and the University of Utah to go to school. Those four children got a college education when it was almost unheard of, especially in our farming community, population 496, up in the mountains.

That emphasis on education has made all the difference in the world to President McKay and others in his family.

The youth of the Huntsville Utah Stake couldn’t all go to the Nauvoo temple for last year’s dedication, so they decided to bring the temple to them. As part of their youth conference on temple work and worthiness, the youth and their leaders built a replica of the Nauvoo Illinois Temple. It was about one-fifth the size of the original Nauvoo temple, and the youth worked on it in rotations, between workshops, speakers, and activities. The youth and their leaders also completed more than 1,000 ordinances for the dead in the Ogden Utah Temple.

They learned how to saw wood and staple fabric, but more importantly they learned how they could lay strong foundations for their testimonies of the temple and their worthiness to go there.

Like him, many of us must learn to retain our faith in God’s justice and live worthy for blessings that do not come immediately. I remember a fine young man in Solingen, Germany, whom my companion and I taught diligently, fasted for, and prayed about. His parents originally denied him permission to be baptized, and he later lost interest in the Church. But thirteen years later, after the break-up of his marriage, he found the Church again; and when a business interview took him to Chicago he came on to Salt Lake City, and I had the immense joy of baptizing him.

You want to be happy in marriage? You seek to make your companion happy. You seek to make her or him happy. Whatever can bring them joy, you seek to do that. Shucks! My wife loves to go on walks and I went on a walk last night with her. You know what happens when I go on a walk? My back hurts! But I don't care! Because I know deep down in, she holds my hand and we go look at the ocean and think how beautiful it is. Then we walk home and I know she loves it, and so I love it because she loves it. You will know that people care about you when you care about they care about. Pretty good one! You think about it. When you care about what they care about they know that you care about them.

He can embrace us in His arms of mercy, comforting, empowering, and healing each of us.
Sister Reyna I. Aburto
At some point in our lives, we will have felt heartbroken after losing someone whom we love dearly. Through the current global pandemic, many of us have lost loved ones—either family members or friends. We pray for those who are grieving such loss. …
We can imagine how Jesus’s friends, who had followed Him and ministered to Him, felt upon witnessing His death. We know that “they mourned and wept” [Mark 16:10]. …
… When I was nine years old, I lost my older brother during a devastating earthquake. Because it happened unexpectedly, it took me a while to grasp the reality of what had occurred. I was heartbroken by sorrow, and I would ask myself, “What happened to my brother? Where is he? Where did he go? Will I ever see him again?” …
About 40 years later, during Easter time, I was pondering about the Resurrection of Jesus Christ and started thinking about my brother. …
That day I realized that the Spirit had given me comfort in a difficult time. I had received a witness that my brother’s spirit is not dead; he is alive. He is still progressing in his eternal existence. I now know that “[my] brother shall rise again” [John 11:23] at that magnificent moment when, because of Jesus Christ’s Resurrection, we will all be resurrected.

The Kathmandu Branch set a goal for 2019 to have a group of members attend the temple. The last time a group went was in 2011. A temple preparation class was held with classes taught by various branch leaders who had previously attended the temple. Dates were chosen and travel arrangements were made to go to the Manila Philippines Temple in October. With help from the branch family history consultant, accounts were set up in FamilySearch and family records were prepared so those who are going could do temple work for their deceased ancestors. Funds were arranged through the Temple Patron Assistance Fund (TPAF) to cover travel and housing costs for those attending the temple for the first time. Puspa Rijal was among the six who went.

I came from a non-Christian religious background, where people respect everyone’s gods. I paid respect to Heavenly Father, but when I learned about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints from missionaries, I learned that He is the God who is the Father of our spirits.

I was baptized into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints seventeen years ago. Shortly after joining the Church, I heard about the temple for the first time. I learned that I needed to go there. I had lots of questions about the temple and knew that going to a temple would require sacrifice. I had to arrange my finances, take time off from work and make arrangements for my family while I am gone. (My wife is not a member of the Church.)

When I first decided to go, I was not worthy or ready to go, but the desire stayed with me. Now after 10 years, I am worthy and Heavenly Father opened the door for me with an opportunity to go this year.

I am so thankful for all the help I received from full-time missionaries for both getting to the temple and while there. A senior missionary couple, who are serving a humanitarian mission in Nepal, went with our group to the temple. They were like shepherds to us, making sure we had food and shelter and no problems in our travels and getting us to all the places we needed to be. Missionary sisters, serving in the family history center across the street from the temple, helped me prepare the family group sheet I needed so I could be sealed to my deceased parents. While inside the temple, missionaries guided us every step along the way. I know Heavenly Father will bless all these missionaries who come from halfway around the world to serve us. They are wonderful people.

Although they are not full-time missionaries, there was a Filipino couple, Jimmy and Rose Albos, who were especially kind to us. They catered meals for us and arranged the sightseeing which we did one afternoon. I am thankful to them from the bottom of my heart. May the Lord bless them for their generosity to our group.

My visit to the Manila Philippines Temple was my sunaulo awasar (golden opportunity) to be sealed to my ancestors. I, and a sister in our group, did the temple work for my parents and afterwards I was able to be sealed to them. Now I can stay with my parents in heaven.

Now my desire to go to the temple has been fulfilled. I had heard many things about the temple and what it looks like. Now that I have been, I have seen for myself. I felt so happy, peaceful, and comfortable in my mind and heart while I was there. When I entered inside the temple, my eyes were opened. My testimony has grown. I received many, many blessings from Heavenly Father while I was in the temple.

In my mind, I compared the temple to the stars in the sky. I had the same feelings inside the temple as I get when I am gazing at the stars. The temple is a holy place. I know our Heavenly Father dwells there. Being able to do temple ordinances for ourselves and for our ancestors is part of Heavenly Father’s plan so we can return to heaven and stay with our families forever.

I would tell everyone that they need to go and do their temple work. I am looking for another chance to go again. I hope my wife will become a member of the Church so that we can go together and be sealed to one another.

On the night of September 21, 1989, Hurricane Hugo passed with all its fury over the beautiful city of Charleston, South Carolina. My good friend Alvie Evans lived in a low-lying area near the water, where the maximum strength of the storm was headed. He gathered his family together and moved to higher ground, to the home of his mother.
Late in the night, 150-mile-per-hour winds raged around them, uprooting trees and ripping away parts of the house. The storm became so severe they began to fear they would experience physical harm. Alvie, with his wife and children, his mother, and his brothers and sister and their families, knelt together in the entrance hall of the home and prayed humbly to the Lord, asking for protection and for safety.
The next morning they viewed the devastation. Of the fifty or more large, strong oak trees that had been growing in his mother’s yard, only eight remained standing. There was damage to the house, the cars, the entire city, but the family was safe. The Lord had heard their prayers and had protected them through the storm. Alvie said, “I didn’t know then if we would have a house to return to, but I knew we would always have a home, because our family was intact and secure.”

I used to wonder where that road to somewhere was and how I’d ever find it. As a young girl, I remember standing at the kitchen window of our home and looking out, down the gravel road toward the east, as far out as I could see. On each side of the road was tall grass in the summer and deep snow in the winter, and only a few houses sprinkled along the way. I used to wonder, “What is out there for me? Where do I belong?” I’m sure you must wonder that sometimes. At the end of our gravel road was the Indian reservation, and across the river a Hutterite colony. Things didn’t seem too hopeful for me at that time. School had been very difficult for me. My friends were moving on without me, and I felt dumb. Do you have any idea what that feels like? It’s awful.

When I was twelve years old and feeling very discouraged after a long, hard winter, my mom and dad had a plan they worked out at some sacrifice that they hoped would give me hope. They determined to take me with them beyond our gravel road, out across the Canadian border, through the great states of Montana and Idaho, and eventually to Salt Lake City, Utah, the headquarters of the Church, to attend general conference.

We arrived early on the first day of conference and waited in line, hoping to enter the great dome-shaped Tabernacle that I had only seen in pictures. I remember we had a seat right over there in the balcony on the left side where I could look down and actually see the prophet in real life and hear him speak, a thing I never dreamed would ever happen to me. When I heard the prophet of God speak at that time, I felt he was talking to me. The feeling I had was one of hope, and I began to understand about the real road to somewhere. I determined right then to plant my feet on that road—the strait and narrow path leading to the celestial kingdom—and never, never give up. I have come to know without any question that the gospel of Jesus Christ is the pathway to hope that leads us back to our Heavenly Father and our eternal home.

By permission, I share two sacred, unusually spiritually direct experiences told by friends about Jesus Christ uniting families by healing even intergenerational conflict. “Infinite and eternal,” “stronger than the cords of death,” Jesus Christ’s Atonement can help us bring peace to our past and hope to our future.

When they joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, my friend and her husband joyfully learned family relationships need not be “until death do you part.” In the house of the Lord, families can be united eternally (sealed).

But my friend did not want to be sealed to her father. “He was not a nice husband to my mother. He was not a nice dad to his children,” she said. “My dad will have to wait. I do not have any desire to do his temple work and be sealed with him in eternity.”

For a year, she fasted, prayed, spoke a lot with the Lord about her father. Finally, she was ready. Her father’s temple work was completed. Later, she said, “In my sleep my dad appeared to me in a dream, all dressed in white. He had changed. He said, ‘Look at me. I am all clean. Thank you for doing the work for me in the temple.’” Her father added, “Get up and go back to the temple; your brother is waiting to be baptized.”

My friend says, “My ancestors and those that have passed on are eagerly waiting for their work to be done.”

“As for me,” she says, “the temple is a place of healing, learning, and acknowledging the Atonement of Jesus Christ.”

Second experience. Another friend researched diligently his family history. He wanted to identify his great-grandfather.

Early one morning, my friend said he felt the spiritual presence of a man in his room. The man wanted to be found and known in his family. The man felt remorse for a mistake for which he had now repented. The man helped my friend realize that my friend had no DNA connection with the person my friend thought was his great-grandfather. “In other words,” my friend said, “I had discovered my great-grandfather and learned he was not the person our family records said was our great-grandfather.”

His family relationships clarified, my friend said, “I feel free, at peace. It makes all the difference to know who my family are.” My friend muses, “A bent branch does not mean a bad tree. How we come into this world is less important than who we are when we leave it.”

This is it—the big one! Six young men and three adults have just registered with the National Park Service for a summit attempt on Mt. Rainier, the mountain monarch of the Northwest. White and majestic, it rises 8,000 feet above the surrounding ridges of lesser mountains, its summit flanked by 26 named glaciers. It is a paradise for the students of nature. At different elevations can be found both beautiful seasonal flowers and unreal ice sculptures common to the Arctic.
The teachers, priests, and adult leaders of the Seattle Washington North Stake’s Tenth Ward have been preparing for this attempt for a long time. We have had weeks of expert instruction in mountaineering. We’ve learned about (and worked for) proper physical and mental conditioning. We have studied proper body chemical balance. We have studied potential hazards, such as avalanches, dehydration, hypothermia, and crevasses (fissures in a glacier). We have learned about proper clothing and equipment and quick energy foods. We have gone to nearby mountains and practiced such things as foul-weather camping, stopping a fall with an ice axe, and rescuing a fallen climber from a crevasse, as well as many other aspects of first aid and mountaineering safety. We capped it all off with a climb to the summit of picturesque, 9,677-foot Mt. St. Helens. We have done everything we can to prepare. Now comes the test.
The weather forecast indicates a high pressure ridge aloft, deteriorating with low clouds forming to the south and cooling temperatures for tomorrow with possible rain. Not good, but not especially discouraging.
We set out, each carrying his share of the gear, plus his ten essentials (extra clothing, extra food, sunburn protection, sun goggles, first aid kit, flashlight, extra batteries, compass, map, matches, fire starter, and knife).
It is just over three miles and about a 1,400-foot elevation gain up a beautiful forest trail to Glacier Basin. There are bare places to set up camp amid snow drifts and avalanche lillies. We prepare supper during intermittent rain at about 5,700 feet.
Each night we will have an evening devotional before we retire. Our theme this evening is “Know Thyself.” We discuss what we have learned and experienced the last several months in preparation for this endeavor.
Next morning, after a good breakfast, we start our ascent of Inter Glacier, a climb of about 4,000 feet in two miles. A full pack, including climbing ropes and other climbing and emergency equipment, makes this a real physical challenge.
Near the top of Inter Glacier, which forms the “foredeck” of Steamboat Prow, we are rewarded by a spectacular view of the upper mountain. The initial summit route among numerous crevasses is obvious. The upper route appears more problematic. There is an ominous summit cloud cap on the mountain. We descend the ridge and arrive at Camp Schurman at the foot of the Prow about 4:00 P.M.
We will have supper by 5:00 P.M., be in bed at 6:00, and up at 12:00 midnight. Since climbing at higher elevations must be done when the surface is stabilized by freezing temperatures to avoid weak snow bridges over crevasses, shifting seracs, and other potential hazards, it is standard climbing practice to start a summit ascent at midnight or soon after at this time of year.
After a quick breakfast we will try to be climbing by 1:00 A.M. Will the weather hold? Will the summit be clear? Will there be route problems? winds? illness? Is our physical and mental conditioning adequate? This is where the training all comes together! Everyone works together now. We’re a team. Everyone is busy preparing food or melting snow, lots of it. We need two quarts of water each to take up the mountain, plus up to two quarts each for supper and breakfast. We have to avoid dehydration. The air is already thin. What will it be like at 12,000 feet? 14,000 feet? The mountain looks inviting. The summit looks ominous. Anxiety is high.
A team of four climbers is coming down. It will be good to get their report. We must eat whether we feel like it or not—high energy food, lots of carbohydrates.
It’s 5:00 P.M., time to get packs with the ten essentials ready for the summit so we can survive the night up there if necessary. We must also get the ropes ready, knots tied, prusiks in place. Everything will be easier now than later when it will be dark and the temperatures freezing.
The descending four arrive. They appear to be in their mid-20s and strong. They look tired. The effect of their experience is etched in their faces. Their report: a good climb. Frozen snow turned to ice at about 12,000 feet requiring crampons. They took 2 quarts of water each, but could have had a gallon (they felt dehydrated). The summit? There was a whiteout, and they had to use wands to find their route back down. The wind was moderate (20 to 30 miles per hour). They didn’t check the temperature. The chill factor was probably zero or below. They will complete their descent this afternoon. Our anxiety is now higher. Whiteouts can be bad news, more of a challenge than we’d really like to have.
We’ll stay in the hut instead of pitching tents. It will be nice to get out of the rising wind.
At 6:00 P.M. we are ready for bed. The theme of our second devotional is “Control Thyself.” We have a good discussion. It helps reduce the tension of anticipation. Sleep is fitful. Some can’t sleep at all, but even a little rest is welcome.
The alarm finally goes off at midnight. No one speaks. Groan, groan. Is this for real? Okay! Now or never! Everybody’s up and dressing for the climb. Don’t dress too warmly. The climbing will be hard; the body will generate a lot of heat. An insulated undershirt, wool shirt or light wool sweater, and wind breaker is enough. After a quick, cold, high energy breakfast, we’re ready to go.
The sky is full of stars. There is very little wind, but it is cold.
The group climb leader takes the lead. Crunch, crunch—the snow is frozen, but not very hard. There is nothing below us but blackness. There must be a heavy cloud layer down there to completely obscure everything. In three hours it will be twilight—in four to five hours, sunrise. The thought of light and warmth is comforting. Six or seven hours should be the turning point. In eight or nine we will be at the summit!
Two hours later the climbing has become labored. The heavy exercise has overcome the cold. Rests are only momentary relief. At 11,500 feet the team reverses position and Scott Capener takes the lead.
(He later said: “Being third man on the rope team, I felt secure. All there was to do was follow, but when we reversed positions, it seemed like the whole world reversed. It was pitch black in front of me, broken only by my headlamp, which wasn’t much benefit. Before, I was reassured by two lights ahead of me. Now I was alone, navigating between crevasses. I didn’t want to begin to think of how deep they were. I was trying to pick a route up a mountain I’d never been on before. The closest person to me was 50 feet behind me, out of hearing or talking range. There were people behind me, but I was alone.”)
We are no longer able to “kick steps” so we put crampons on to enable secure footing. The moon rises, a meager orange-red slit where you imagine the horizon should be.
At 12,500 feet the lead team again reverses position. We’ve now crossed several crevasses, but you never feel comfortable about them. Climbing has now become an ordeal—a real test, hour after hour.
Several of the team are now suffering one or more symptoms of acute mountain sickness (headache, nausea, vomiting), but there are no complaints. It is now twilight, and delayed sunrise is both welcome (it will soon turn to blinding, burning light reflected by the ice in every direction) and disappointing (it’s very cold when you stop to rest). There is no in-between up here. While you hike you sweat; when you stop you shiver.
The terrain is now steep, about 60 degrees in places. Two have tender Achilles tendons. The strongest of the group are calling for rest, which is welcome to all. Soon we are climbing again. You sink in your ax spike, take two steps, and repeat, breathing hard and deep several times in between. Over and over, on and on! Seems like it will never end. You feel lightheaded because you are breathing so hard that you are almost hyperventilating in spite of the thin air at 13,000 feet. But you can’t faint; you can’t fall; don’t even close your eyes or you might doze and slip. On this hard ice and steep angle, it would be almost impossible to stop once you started sliding. You recall accident reports in which fatalities occurred under similar conditions. Stomp those feet down hard!
The wind has started to blow down the mountain. It is bitter cold. There are clouds over the upper mountain. We start wanding to mark our route. We’ve now crossed many crevasses. Some we cross on snowbridges; some we climb around until we can step across.
At 13,500 feet we are climbing into the cloud cap. The wind is about 20 miles per hour. Maybe it will blow the cloud cap away. At 14,000 feet there is intermittent snow falling, with higher gusts of wind. At times visibility is ten to fifteen feet. Sometimes the ridge is visible for a few seconds. At 14,200 feet we are now higher than Liberty Cap or Point Success, two of the mountain’s three summits. Hoar frost forms on eyebrows and clothing. Although spirits are high, the condition of the group is not good. They are approaching fatigue. The advisability of continuing seems questionable.
Belden Durtschi, the climb leader’s second in command, has been here before. He is called up for consultation. Other members of the team are consulted. Not a negative word is heard. Belden takes the lead with his rope team. Soon exposed rock of the crater rim is showing. The terrain is not as steep.
At 9:30 A.M. the altimeter indicates we are at Columbia Crest at last! We scramble to the left side of the crater wall and collapse. Three fall asleep still in their packs. The rest take some food and drink and rest. The rocks feel like pillows.
After about 20 minutes it doesn’t look like the weather will clear, so we start our descent. We are soon out of the cloud.
The descent is fast, and we arrive back at Camp Schurman at about 1:30 P.M. for a well-earned rest.
In blinding sunshine, with a heavy cloud layer several thousand feet below, we spend an enjoyable afternoon exchanging thoughts of our experience. Since some retire early, the third element of our devotionals is held the next morning—the theme, “Give Thyself.” Our devotional themes “Know Thyself” (Socrates, 450 B.C.), “Control Thyself” (Cicero, 100 B.C.), and “Give Thyself” (Jesus Christ) are a formula for success suggested by Elder Paul H. Dunn in his book Discovering the Quality of Success. If we follow these concepts, we will truly succeed!
After breakfast we rope up again to descend the Emmons Glacier to where we can traverse the ridge to Inter Glacier. The lower half of Inter Glacier is free of crevasses and presents a beautiful glisade where we lose nearly 2,000 feet in a little over a mile. It is a fast trip and quite a thrill!
As we descend, the summit, shining brilliantly in the sun, is sometimes visible through the clouds. It’s hard to believe we were really there.
But we were, and it has made a difference.
In retrospect one of the fellows commented, “I learned a lot about self-discipline. It stimulates your thinking with challenging decisions.” Another said, “it was a spiritual, beautiful experience.” We discovered a lot about the qualities of success.
Into a cloud sea far below,
I lonely watched the red sun go,
Then turning, miracle of glad surprise,
Enchanted saw the full moon rise.
—C. Schurman—

Preparation—temporal as well as spiritual—has been a frequent theme of President Romney’s sermons. For decades he has been an important person in the Church’s welfare program. When, as a young bishop in the mid-1930s, he heard the Brethren urge the Saints to store food and other necessities, he immediately built shelves at home and in the basement of the meetinghouse and filled them with clothing and food. Later, as stake president, he developed a prototype of the new program on a stake and regional basis.