Gospel Story Finder

The principles we have discussed I know are true. They have blessed my life many times. One vivid example is when I was called to be a mission president. At the time I was working as a civilian for an admiral in charge of a program essential to the national defense of our country. When I told the admiral of the call, he was most upset because he did not understand how it had come and what it meant. He concluded a tense conversation with these words: “You are a traitor to your country. I’ll see that you never have success in this industry. I will not speak to you again. You are finished here. If that’s the way Mormons are, I’m going to get rid of all that work for me.”

I said, “Admiral, I will carefully turn my assignment over to a replacement unless you prevent me from continuing in this office.”

I knew what was right for me to do, but I was very concerned that my decision could cause a loss of work for innocent people who were honorably supporting their families in the program. As I struggled with that thought, there came into my mind the words of the song “Do what is right; let the consequence follow” (“Do What Is Right,” Hymns, 1985, no. 237). I could not see how that challenge could possibly be worked out, but I felt a peace and a calmness as I proceeded to do my best to instruct a replacement.

I can see now that the Lord guided me each step of the way in what to do and what to say. My replacement was a very capable, experienced individual who learned rapidly. I was impressed to identify those things that needed to be done and even was able to outline some suggestions for important future improvements in the program.

On my last day at work I met with the admiral again. The experience was totally different. That conversation ended with a much deeper appreciation for each other and for my beliefs. No other Church member was adversely affected because of my decision.

As we close this experience together, think of what the words of the song “Do What Is Right” mean in your life. May the doctrinal message it contains be as helpful to you as it has been to me.

Some time ago your mother and I visited a third-world country where sanitary conditions were much poorer than ours. We joined with a delegation of other doctors from all over the world. The president of our group, an experienced traveler, warned of risks. In order to avoid water that might be contaminated, we were even counseled to brush our teeth with an alcoholic beverage. We chose not to follow that counsel, but simply did what we had learned to do once a month. We fasted that first day, thinking we could introduce simple food and fluids gradually thereafter. Later, we were the only ones in our group without disabling illness.

Fasting fortifies discipline over appetite and helps to protect against later uncontrolled cravings and gnawing habits.

President Smith showed an example of such kindness in a meeting where an accident involving a Church-owned automobile was discussed. An elderly man driving a vegetable truck with no insurance had caused the mishap. After some discussion, it was recommended that the Church pursue the matter in a court of law. However, President Smith spoke up: “Yes, we could do that. And if we press with all vigor, we might even succeed in taking the truck away from the poor man; then how would he make a living?” The committee reversed its recommendation and let the matter rest.15

Forrest Michaelson showed up in my homeroom the Wednesday after Easter vacation. It had been a typically wet April morning, and he had on jeans, a T-shirt, and cowboy boots. An ankle-length, buff-leather, oilskin slicker made him look like he’d blown into town out of a Clint Eastwood western. He gave Mr. Riegert a form from the office. Raking his fingers through his tousled, black hair, he gave the rest of us a bemused look as Mr. Riegert shuffled us about so he could reseat us alphabetically.
But the thing that struck me most was how totally unself-conscious he was. His whole demeanor said: Whatever’s going on here, I’m not getting uptight about it.
“Shophead,” sniffed Linda Matthews, who sat behind me.
That said it all. But as Mr. Riegert read the roll to make up a new seating chart, I couldn’t help noticing how Forrest Michaelson paid close attention to each name as it was called out. And when Mr. Riegert called my name and I said, “Here,” our eyes met momentarily. He had sharp, clear eyes, and he winked at me, like we had something in common.
I turned away sharply to tell him he was wrong.
But after the bell rang, he caught up with me in the hall.
“Heather Mastrioanni?”
I nodded.
“Kinda new here, you know. Direct me to D-wing? Room 104.” He pointed to the first class on his schedule. I almost gaped. Auto shop, of course, but he was also signed up for AP calculus.
I said, “First room on the right past the cafeteria.”
“Thanks.” He ambled off down the hall.
After civics I went to the cafeteria and sat down at my usual place. When Forrest Michaelson put his tray down right across the table from me I didn’t notice him. Well, Rob Herndon had just walked in with Linda and I was thinking it would be nice if he ever wanted to eat lunch with me. I looked up and nearly choked on my tuna fish sandwich.
“Thought we should get to know each other better,” Forrest said. “It seems that we constitute a minority of two.”
“What minority of two?” I finally said.
“Mormons,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “At least in the senior class. That’s what I gathered from your father.”
Of course. I nearly smacked myself on the side of the head. The Michaelsons. Monday, Mom and Dad had gone over to help a family who were just moving into the ward. But I never connected them with this Forrest Michaelson.
Forrest read my reaction with a smile. “Initial impressions can be misleading.” He glanced around the cafeteria. “So, how about a tour of the student body? Beginning with the pack of jackals over there, for example.” He nodded to where Rob and his teammates were sitting.
“That’s Rob Herndon,” I said, coldly. “He’s on the wrestling team, and he’s a nice guy.”
“If you say so.”
“Initial impressions can be misleading.”
“Touché,” he said, touching his forehead in a kind of salute.
He always sat with me during lunch. There wasn’t anything I could do about it, and I knew as long as Forrest was sitting there, no one else would dare to.
“You know, Forrest,” I finally said to him one day, “I don’t know why you think you have to sit with me. We really don’t have anything in common.”
That provoked a raised eyebrow. “I would have thought we had most everything in common. We sure don’t share the same taste in fashion, but we believe the same things, and that makes us pretty even.”
“Oh, really? What about those shophead friends of yours? I’ve got a lot more in common with Rob than you do with them.”
“No, you don’t. Okay, maybe my friends don’t believe the same things I do, but they don’t pretend they do, either.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“The people who hang around guys like Herndon, they want to think he’s their friend because they want to pretend they’re his friends.”
I didn’t pretend to understand what he had just said. I just laughed. “You expect me to believe he’s such a terrible person just because you don’t get along with him?”
“I really don’t worry about getting along with Herndon or not, Heather. But I don’t laugh at his jokes or marvel at who he goes out with, so that kind of counts me out, doesn’t it? Every school I’ve been in has a pack of them. And they come on to you depending on what kind of a person they think you are.”
“He’s always been nice to me,” I protested.
“He’s as nice as it takes.”
The worst thing about these arguments was that they convinced everybody that Forrest and I were a serious thing. Even Linda was convinced. Linda would ask me about him, about us, and about other things as well, which was a total shock, because before Linda hardly said two sentences to me. We became pretty good friends, though. She even got me on the publicity committee for senior class night at Jumpin’ Jacks drive-in.
Friday I stayed late cleaning up in art class and missed the bus. I was standing at the front entrance debating whether to call Mom or wait for the late bus when Forrest walked up.
“Miss your bus?”
I hesitated a moment too long.
“Be right back,” Forrest said and jogged off to the student lot. He drove up and got the door for me.
“So what’s this big deal at Jumpin’ Jacks?” he asked.
“It’s the drive-in across from the park by the river marina. The Friday before Memorial Day is senior class night. Nothing formal. Just a chance to have a good time before the Regents exams begin.” I waited as long as I thought I could before I felt I had to ask him the obvious question. “I don’t expect you’d want to come?”
“I thought I might.”
“Really? I didn’t think you’d be interested in that kind of thing. After all, Rob Herndon and his friends will be there.”
“Ordinarily I wouldn’t be. But if you’re going to be there …”
“I don’t need a chaperon, Forrest.”
He pulled into our driveway. I got out and slammed the door to show just how grateful I wasn’t for the ride and stormed up the steps and into the house.
Mom was in the kitchen preparing dinner. “Forrest drive you home?”
I sat down at the kitchen table and folded my arms and didn’t answer.
Mom wasn’t impressed by my attitude. “Forrest taking you to Jumpin’ Jacks tonight?”
“Mom!” I exploded, “Why does everybody think I’m dating Forrest Michaelson?”
Mom looked at me quite innocently. “I didn’t think you were dating Forrest. It just seemed reasonable that he would give you a ride, if you’re both going.”
“I wouldn’t go out with him if he were the last man on Earth,” I stated. “He’s stubborn and opinionated. He always thinks he’s right.”
I could tell by the way Mom reacted that she didn’t like my choice of words, and I cringed inside at the anticipated correction.
“Well, yes,” Mom said, after giving it some thought, “but it’s more than that.”
I looked at Mom, amazed. She was actually agreeing with me.
“I think, like most teenagers, he can’t bring himself to be just another slice of bread. But he’s smart enough to know what’s important. So it’s his way of proving what the Church means to him without having to come out and say it. The same way you wouldn’t respect a lion if it barked like a Chihuahua. He’s protecting what he respects.”
“He’s determined to protect me as well,” I said glumly. “He’s got an opinion about all my friends, whether I ought to be associating with them at all, whether they’re really my friends. Like it’s any of his business.”
Mom laughed. “Young men like Forrest suffer from being taken too seriously too much of the time. I think humoring him would go a long way.”
“Then he’s going to have to be humored at a distance.”
It was only a short walk through the park to the drive-in. Someone came up behind me and I turned around. It was Forrest.
There were tons of kids there already. We crowded into line. It was great food but pretty expensive. I had eaten dinner so I wouldn’t be tempted, but Forrest ordered a seafood platter that made my mouth water. When we sat down and Forrest said, “Have a shrimp,” I couldn’t refuse.
“So where’s Linda?” Forrest asked.
I didn’t know.
A moment later he said, “Speak of the devil.”
Rob drove up and he and Linda got out. She looked flustered, a bit disheveled, and a little scared. Rob just looked angry.
After they ordered, Linda brought her plate over to our table. I couldn’t believe she knew what she was doing. I could tell Rob was hating it.
“Don’t mind, do you?” Rob said icily.
“Not at all,” Forrest said. “In fact, I was just leaving.
“Yes,” I said, almost without thinking, “we were just leaving.”
The rest of the jackals then crowded around the table, pushing us out of the way.
“Are you really leaving?” Linda asked quietly. She tried to laugh and stood up. “I guess I don’t care much for the company of some of my friends,” she said as she began to follow us.
“I don’t care much for the company of some of your friends, either,” Forrest said.
Rob stood up and looked around. “Hey, Linda, where are you going? Get over here. C’mon, the night is still young.”
I heard the jackals laughing. I used to think it was funny, the way Rob talked to Linda, but I felt cold and sick inside.
Then Rob grabbed for her. Linda shied away. “Quit playing hard to get, Linda.” He reached for her again, and Forrest caught Rob’s wrist like a vice grip. Rob’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “You got some kind of problem?”
It suddenly got quiet.
“No problem,” Forrest said. He stepped to the side and let go of Rob’s wrist. Rob immediately lurched forward, thumping Forrest hard on his shoulders. Forrest backed away, showing the palms of his hands.
“Let’s go, Linda,” I said quietly.
Rob stood, flushed and angry. Forrest, facing him, looked like he had just solved a math problem too simple to bother with in the first place. When we reached the sidewalk, he turned and walked away.
“That’s right, chump!” Rob shouted. “Go ahead, walk away!”
“I’m sorry,” said Linda, when Forrest joined us.
Forrest simply shrugged.
We walked through the park, then up Lakeside Avenue to the Michaelsons’s house. It was reassuring to have Forrest with us. So I did have more in common with him than Rob Herndon, a lot more. But I could live with that. When you’ve been in a den of jackals, you come to appreciate the pride of lions.

Brother Tengu proceeded to bear his powerful testimony. He talked about the oppressive darkness that once enfolded him so fully that he even considered taking his own life. He talked about the pivotal moment when a friend at school asked him if he’d like to meet the missionaries.

Brother Tengu expressed gratitude for those missionaries, but said it was the Book of Mormon—which he was still holding out in front of him—that truly led him to light. He testified that the Book of Mormon answered every one of his questions, that it brought him peace. “It saved my life!” he said.

When I came to my new school I did not have any friends either for a long time. I was very unhappy and began to wonder what I was doing wrong. I read scriptures and learned that Jesus Christ is the very best friend I can ever get. I also began to think in a positive way and said nice things to people. At first they just smiled at me, but now I have a lot more friends than I ever expected.
Naomi Hartzheim, 17,Dusseldorf, Germany

My younger sister and I received our endowment together, just a few days before she left on her mission. I was excited to attend the temple with her, and I was ready to take the next step on the covenant path.
But that day, my emotions were everywhere. It was the end of summer. A daunting school semester loomed before me. In anticipation of moving back to college, leaving my family, and saying goodbye to my sister, I felt suddenly inconsolable.
And although the endowment ceremony was beautiful, it was a lot to take in. I understood very little and was ready to leave the moment the session ended.
My sister had a different experience. In the celestial room, she calmly and curiously asked my parents questions about the endowment and seemed to have grasped much more than I had. Meanwhile, I sat in a stupor of silence. I remember holding back tears of frustration and embarrassment that my experience was playing out so differently from hers.
I was momentarily tempted to feel bitter that I hadn’t had the experience I’d hoped for. But then I remembered two specific things that my temple preparation teachers had told me:
I would likely not understand everything that happened during my first endowment session. They told me that instead of trying to make sense of it all in the moment, I should try to focus on the peaceful feeling inside the temple.
I might leave the temple feeling spiritually tired and overwhelmed. And that was OK.
Their wise words slowed my spiraling thoughts and have stuck with me over the years. I believe the same counsel can help us as we reckon with expectations we have about other spiritual experiences, both inside and outside the temple.
I’m happy to say that I enjoy attending the temple now, and my understanding of the endowment has grown over the past few years.
Comparing my temple experience to my sister’s was discouraging for me. Because I didn’t want that first experience to get in the way of my enjoying the blessings of temple worship, I had to consciously decide to move past the differences in what my sister and I felt and understood that day.

Brothers and sisters, I have learned a painful lesson since I last occupied this pulpit in October of 2022. That lesson is: if you don’t give an acceptable talk, you can be banned for the next several conferences. You can see I am assigned early in the first session of this one. What you can’t see is that I am positioned on a trapdoor with a very delicate latch. If this talk doesn’t go well, I won’t see you for another few conferences.
In the spirit of that beautiful hymn with this beautiful choir, I have learned some lessons recently that, with the Lord’s help, I wish to share with you today. That will make this a very personal talk.
The most personal and painful of all these recent experiences has been the passing of my beloved wife, Pat. She was the greatest woman I have ever known—a perfect wife and mother, to say nothing of her purity, her gift of expression, her spirituality. She gave a talk once titled “Fulfilling the Measure of Your Creation.” It seems to me that she fulfilled the measure of her creation more successfully than anyone could have dreamed possible. She was a complete daughter of God, an exemplary woman of Christ. I was the most fortunate of men to spend 60 years of my life with her. Should I prove worthy, our sealing means I can spend eternity with her.
Another experience began 48 hours after my wife’s burial. At that time, I was rushed to the hospital in an acute medical crisis. I then spent the first four weeks of a six-week stay in and out of intensive care and in and out of consciousness.
Virtually all my experience in the hospital during that first period is lost to my memory. What is not lost is my memory of a journey outside the hospital, out to what seemed the edge of eternity. I cannot speak fully of that experience here, but I can say that part of what I received was an admonition to return to my ministry with more urgency, more consecration, more focus on the Savior, more faith in His word.
I couldn’t help but feel I was receiving my own personal version of a revelation given to the Twelve nearly 200 years ago:
“Thou shalt bear record of my name … [and] send forth my word unto the ends of the earth. …
“… Morning by morning; and day after day let thy warning voice go forth; and when the night cometh let not the inhabitants of the earth slumber, because of thy speech. …
“Arise[,] … take up your cross, [and] follow me.”
My beloved sisters and brothers, since that experience, I have tried to take up my cross more earnestly, with more resolve to find where I can raise an apostolic voice of both warmth and warning in the morning, during the day, and into the night.
That leads me to a third truth that came in those months of loss, illness, and distress. It was a renewed witness of and endless gratitude for the resolute prayers of this Church—your prayers—of which I have been the beneficiary. I will be eternally grateful for the supplication of thousands of people who, like the importuning widow, repeatedly sought heaven’s intervention in my behalf. I received priesthood blessings, and I saw my high school class fast for me, as did several random wards across the Church. And my name must have been on the prayer roll of virtually every temple in the Church.
In my profound gratitude for all this, I join G. K. Chesterton, who said once “that thanks are the highest form of thought; and … gratitude is happiness doubled by wonder.” With my own “happiness doubled by wonder,” I thank all of you and thank my Father in Heaven, who heard your prayers and blessed my life.
Brothers and sisters, I testify that God hears every prayer we offer and responds to each of them according to the path He has outlined for our perfection. I recognize that at roughly the same time so many were praying for the restoration of my health, an equal number—including me—were praying for the restoration of my wife’s health. I testify that both of those prayers were heard and answered by a divinely compassionate Heavenly Father, even if the prayers for Pat were not answered the way I asked. It is for reasons known only to God why prayers are answered differently than we hope—but I promise you they are heard and they are answered according to His unfailing love and cosmic timetable.

The football was improvised from a bunch of socks. The opposing team was the furniture. Young Kalin faked left, then went wide around a wall. He slipped the tackle of a kitchen chair, and made a flying leap into the end-zone couch on the far side of the living room. But the cheers of the crowds were only in his mind. As an only child being raised by a single mother working the swing shift, Kalin Hall spent a lot of time alone.
Growing up in Las Vegas, Nevada, Kalin didn’t foresee a future for himself that included college, a career, or membership in the LDS church. In fact, he didn’t even see football in his future despite his success in his own living room.
In grade school and junior high, Kalin participated in athletics, but by the time he was a sophomore in high school, things began to unravel. He was skipping too much school and his grades were going downhill. He played in four games; then his poor academic record forced him off the team. For two years of high school he watched games from the stands. He started hanging around some guys with gang affiliation. The bond between these guys appealed to Kalin, who was not used to being close with anyone. He became a follower.
Then things hit bottom for Kalin. He got kicked out of school for fighting in defense of a friend. He got caught riding on a scooter someone else had stolen. He wrote a suicide note to his mother. “I don’t know if I was serious,” says Kalin, “but I put it in my mom’s purse, and she found it.”
His mother took him to a hospital for help, and things turned around for Kalin. “I decided I had to change. I saw a lot of guys older than me doing nothing, hanging around selling drugs. I couldn’t see myself that way. I knew I was a fairly bright kid. I knew there was a purpose for me. I always prayed every night before I went to bed. I didn’t know why I did that. Nobody taught me. It was something I felt I had to do.” Only later did Kalin realize that those early feelings that helped him to pray every day prepared him for the changes he would make in his life.
Looking for a new group of friends, Kalin watched the people he admired to see what they were doing. He saw they were going to class, getting good grades, and playing sports. In one semester of school, he raised his grades to As and Bs. He played football and basketball his senior year of high school. As a high school running back, he was all-conference, all-region, and all-state. He was named Nevada’s Gatorade Player of the Year. But he paid a price for messing around for two years of high school. He was not eligible to be recruited by a Division I football school. He was headed to a junior college. He chose Dixie College in St. George, Utah, because it had a good football program and was close to home.
It was at Dixie that Kalin was first introduced to the Church. He became friends with some Polynesian players who were returned missionaries. Kalin says, “They welcomed everybody. They were so friendly and nice. I felt comfortable around them.”
One of his new friends, Jack Damuni, tells what happened. “I was in my room doing some homework. A Catholic friend came in and started asking me questions about the Church. Kalin walked in, sat on my bed, and just listened. We were talking about the Godhead and how the Spirit lets you know if things are true, and about our purpose here on earth. Kalin wasn’t saying anything. I turned and looked at him, and he started crying. I knew what was happening.”
Of course, Kalin remembers everything about that day. “Religion had always interested me. I listened to what both of them were saying. I was really struck by a lot of things Jack said. It was a good feeling that I had.”
They were an hour late for a team meeting. The coach bawled them out for being late until they told him they had been talking about the Church and were too involved to think of anything else.
As they were walking back to the dorms, Kalin started asking more questions. “Hey, Jack, what was that I felt back there? I felt something that really touched me. It made me cry.”
Jack said, “Remember when we were talking about how the Holy Spirit lets you know when things are true? That’s what it was.”
Kalin said, “It’s a good feeling. I felt calm.”
As Kalin began taking the missionary discussions, some strange things started to happen. Jack had warned his friend that once he started reading the scriptures and became interested in the Church, people would try to convince him that the Church was wrong. It happened just as Jack said.
“People started being involved in my life who never had been before,” said Kalin. “They were telling me how racist the religion is. To me, the black and white thing has never been an issue—never has been and never will be. I can’t honestly see anyone entering the celestial kingdom if they are prejudiced. Christ said we are all his children.”
Jack Damuni baptized his friend and watched him grow and progress as he became more and more involved in the Church. Two years later, Jack was Kalin’s teammate on the Brigham Young University football team. They are still very close, like brothers. Jack has seen a big change in Kalin. “He’s focused. Everything he does is focused on the gospel.”
While a lot of good things were happening in his life at Dixie, like joining the Church and being named the National Junior College Player of the Year in 1991, some hard things were happening. Kalin’s father, whom he never knew well, died. Then three months later his mother passed away from cancer. It shook Kalin. “During her worst time, I wasn’t there to comfort her. It helped out an awful lot that I knew I would see her again, but it was still very hard. Both my parents are gone, and I don’t have any blood brothers or sisters. I’m the last of my immediate family.”
During this time, Kalin was adopted by Wendell and Joyce Donahoo. He met the family while playing with their son Kelly in high school. “They have been great to me,” says Kalin. “They are a great family.”
After junior college, Kalin was heavily recruited. He made a recruiting trip to BYU. A couple of hours into the tour, Kalin used the phrase made famous by Brigham Young. “This is the right place.” He did have one condition before he would agree to come to BYU. He told the BYU coaches he wanted the chance to talk at firesides, to share his story with young people who might be helped by what he had to say. They smiled and said there would be no problem. He’d have more chances to speak than he would know what to do with.
Kalin’s interest in the choices young people are making with their lives has decided his major. He’s in social work. He intends to finish his degree and work with children. He’s so determined to make this goal that he is concentrating on finishing his degree and perhaps going on for a master’s.
Here’s the advice he has for kids: “Be your own person. Be a leader. The hardest thing is to stand up for yourself and what you believe in. Don’t get caught up in being a follower. If you have to, move on to another set of friends or be a loner for a while.”
As a running back on the BYU football team, Kalin’s athletic talents are evident. He’s hard to stop. But he has a very healthy attitude about sports in general. “Athletics is not the most important thing in the world. But they can be used as a positive tool in your life. For me, it’s been very positive.”
Football has given Kalin the opportunity to go to college. College led Kalin to the gospel. The gospel directed him to BYU, where he met and married his wife, Holly Hamilton, in the temple. The temple can lead them to an eternal family, a concept that is extremely meaningful to an only child who spent a lot of time alone.
If asked, Kalin will tell you about a favorite scripture. It’s the one in Alma about nourishing a seed (see Alma 32:28–43). Kalin says, “The seed was planted when I first started to turn my life around. Then the gospel came, and that’s when the seed was covered by the soil. When I read the scriptures, that’s when I nourished the seed, and it keeps growing as I gain more insight into the gospel. That’s how you progress.”
Sounds like a ball carrier who is on the ball.

Twenty one years ago our youngest son was hospitalized with a terrible disease that broke down his red blood cells and shut down his kidneys. He was 3 years old at the time. For 38 days he remained in the hospital, 34 of those days on peritoneal dialysis as his kidneys refused to work. Then, through the fasting and prayers of more people that we can count, and through more miracles and tender mercies from the Lord than we certainly deserved, and to the absolute astonishment and disbelief of his doctors and nurses, his kidneys suddenly started working again. A couple of days later, on the day he was to be discharged from the hospital, it was necessary to surgically remove the dialysis tubing from his abdomen. I walked along side his gurney down to the room where the procedure would be done. His little hand clung tightly to mine right up to the doorway where I had to wait outside the room. Then the door was closed and I stood outside praying for my little boy. He was not completely anesthetized for the procedure, just given a local anesthetic. As the operation began, he started to cry and to sob. He cried out for me, wondering where I was and why his Dad had left him at a time of such great need. I confess that I had to walk down the hall, to a place where I could no longer hear his cries, until the door opened and I knew they were done. I then ran to my son and embraced him "with all the feeling of a tender parent."

In that spirit, Brothers and Sisters, we give praise to a loving Heavenly Father for His part in the Atonement. How difficult it must have been for the Father to hear the cries of His Beloved Son as He said, "Abba, Father, all things are possible unto thee; take away this cup from me." (Mark 14:36) We have often wondered if perhaps, the God of Heaven had to go to a far part of His great universe where He would not have to watch the suffering of His Only Begotten Son. What a marvelous reunion it must have been in those royal courts on high as the Father welcomed Jesus back into His loving arms.

Someday, you young students will have children of your own. If you have children now and have not yet had the experience, someday you will watch as they suffer in body or spirit or both, from the consequences of their own decisions or from the actions of others. Someday your hearts will nearly break as you realize that for them, in that moment, "there is no other way." In that day, you will begin to understand at a very small level, the anguish that we can only imagine the Father felt for His Son. We give praise to the Father for his willingness to sacrifice His Only Begotten Son; that He loved the world enough that "He gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." (John 3:15)

We also give praise to the Son who sustained us through those and other dark days as we struggled to find ourselves as parents, in demanding church callings and in the everyday trials that comprise life. In retrospect, it is easy to see that in our days of greatest trial, we were blessed beyond measure by the enabling power of the Atonement of Jesus Christ. We thank God for the incomparable gift of His Son.

Once we reached Poland after an early start, our first stop was a retreat house, Dobre Miejsce, attached to the University of Cardinal Wyszynski in Warsaw. We stopped to buy sweets, colouring books, and pens for the 50 children we were about to meet. Dobre Miejsce looks after 95 women and children. The absence of men at the university refuge was noticeable and reinforced the awful concern of the women and children, not knowing if the men in their lives are alive or not.
We managed to spend a little time with the children for whom we had brought the packs. I will treasure the drawing that one little child gave us of the Union flag and the Ukrainian flag with a heart drawn around it; their little faces shining at such a simple gift is something I will remember for years to come.

In 1898 David O. McKay (1873–1970), who later became the ninth President of the Church, was a homesick missionary in Scotland. He had been in the city of Stirling only a few weeks and was discouraged. He and his companion spent one morning walking around Stirling Castle. On the way back into town they noticed an unfinished building. “Over the front door,” President McKay later explained, “was a stone arch, something unusual in a residence, and what was still more unusual, I could see from the sidewalk that there was an inscription chiseled in that arch.
“I said to my companion: ‘That’s unusual! I am going to see what the inscription is.’ When I approached near enough, this message came to me, not only in stone, but as if it came from One in whose service we were engaged:
“‘Whate’er Thou Art, Act Well Thy Part’” (in Conference Report, October 1956, 91).
The message the young elder received that morning was to act his part well as a missionary of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. It was also a message President McKay lived and taught throughout a lifetime of service.

“Let’s all go up. Let’s make the bishop faint. Let’s all go up and bear our testimonies.” This was the challenge young Spencer V. Jones made to his fellow deacons. It was also a turning point in the maturing of his testimony. “As I bore my testimony, at the end—where maybe a month before I was giggling at the people who cried while bearing their testimonies because I didn’t really understand—I found myself in tears,” Elder Jones recalls. “I’ve never forgotten that moment, because when spirit speaks to spirit, something special happens.”

While growing up, Isaac Nii Ayi Kwei Martey was introduced to the Hindu religion by his father. He came in contact with The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints while he was staying with his uncle in Cape Coast. He met LDS missionaries as they were rescheduling an appointment with a neighbor. He approached them and consented to listen to the restored gospel. Isaac had in mind to thwart the message of the restored gospel. When the missionaries visited with him, they gave him the Book of Mormon and he loved the teachings he found there. He genuinely wanted to learn more.
He decided to take the challenge of praying about the Book of Mormon. He persistently prayed to know if it was true and he got his confirmation three weeks later. After the witness of the Holy Ghost, he was faced with a new challenge.
He informed his mother about his desire to get baptized and join the LDS Church, but she threatened to disown him if he ever did. All his relatives were against the idea of him joining the Church. Isaac had been admitted to study for his bachelor’s degree at Kwame Nkrumah University of Science and Technology. Isaac told the Cape Coast missionaries of his plan to attend church at Kumasi without the knowledge of his family. Isaac had studied with them for a little over a year without getting the opportunity to attend church. While in Kumasi, he looked for the LDS Church but could not find it. A student colleague directed him to the LDS Church about a month later. Isaac again met with the Kumasi missionaries. They were impressed with his knowledge of the restored gospel, but this was no surprise, as he had been taught much by missionaries while in Cape Coast.
The missionaries fixed a baptismal interview date with Isaac. He agreed and got baptized on October 16, 2010. However, he kept all this from his family. Isaac had the privilege of performing a proxy baptism in the temple when he came to Accra for Christmas vacation. He shared his experience in the temple: “When I got to the temple, I felt so much about being different and I remember reading a talk in the waiting room by President Monson. ‘Dare to be a Mormon; Dare to stand alone. Dare to have a purpose firm; Dare to make it known’ (“Dare to Stand Alone,” Liahona, Nov. 2011, 61).” This impression compelled him to inform his mother about his newfound Church membership and the blessings he had acquired. Breaking the news, his mother was furious initially, but subsequently, she began to understand and accept his decision to be a Latter-day Saint. However, his extended family was unforgiving of his decision.
Isaac’s faith in the gospel began to enlarge, even to extent of desiring to serve a full-time mission. He decided to save some money toward such ecclesiastical ambition. His mother pleaded with him against it while his other relatives warned him to rescind his decision when he told them about his desire to serve the Lord for two years. Isaac stood firm and proceeded to work toward his mission goal rather than heeding to whims and caprices of family members.
He submitted his missionary forms and received the call to serve in Nigeria Port Harcourt Mission. Seven days after arriving at the missionary training center, he was informed that his mother had passed away. Having already lost his dad as a 15-year-old, his mother’s death made him an orphan. It was a really difficult time for him, and he was faced with the choice to either return home or continue with his mission. He prayed concerning this and sought counsel from his leaders. He finally decided on continuing his mission. He informed his family about his decision, and as expected, it was not well received. An uncle told him that if he went ahead with his mission, he should not consider himself as family to him. Even though he had the option to return home for his mother’s burial, he resolved to keep serving the Lord after he had read few passages in the scriptures:
“And another also said, Lord, I will follow thee; but let me first go bid them farewell, which are at home at my house.
“And Jesus said unto him, No man, having put his hand to the plough, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God” (Luke 9:61–62).
He served his mission faithfully and extended for a few more weeks before returning. Even though he hasn’t been accepted by his extended family, Isaac firmly believes that the Lord is mindful of the little things we do on this earth and the unending blessings we gain as we obey His commandments. “We all have different challenges, and the Lord has prepared our backs to these challenges that we face. … All He requires from us is a broken heart and a contrite spirit,” he says. Even though he is unsure of what lies ahead for him, he knows that if he relies on the Savior, he will be able to achieve all things.

I’ve had a profound hearing loss most of my life and can only understand about 20 percent of what is said at the pulpit during most Church meetings. Occasionally, my deafness makes me feel alone and separate, such as when the congregation laughs at a speaker’s humorous remark but I don’t because I didn’t hear it. And I was not the only one. Older ward members confided to me they also had difficulty hearing.
Sometimes, after struggling to understand a soft-spoken speaker in sacrament meeting or when a Sunday School teacher declares there’s no need to use the microphone because everyone can hear, I wonder why I even go to church when I can hear so little. Wouldn’t my time be better spent at home reading the Come, Follow Me lessons or studying the scriptures?
Still, I wanted to be obedient and continued to attend with my family to renew my baptismal covenants and remember the Savior by partaking of the sacrament. It was always a blessing to feel the Spirit, and I always felt edified by those things I could hear.
One Sunday the high councilor who spoke in sacrament meeting had one of those clear, projecting voices that made it easier to hear. He discussed the New Testament story about the woman who suffered from an issue of blood for 12 years and had faith that she could be healed if she could but reach out and touch Jesus’s robe as He walked by (see Luke 8:43–48).
The speaker then offered a poignant insight that struck me deeply, explaining that because of her condition, this woman would have been considered unclean and most likely would not have been allowed to attend church. For 12 years!
The ramifications of this took my breath away. Although sick, this woman was probably not so unwell that she couldn’t attend church, at least occasionally. But because of the social mores of the times, she was not allowed to attend. What a dreadful trial for a person of faith!
As I pondered the heartache she must have felt at being prohibited from worshipping God with fellow believers because of her physical condition—something over which she had no control—the Spirit opened my eyes to how her situation compared with my own. I was given to understand that although I could not be a full participant, at least I had the privilege of attending church and hearing what I could. This woman had no such choice. I felt ashamed for the times I had briefly considered staying home.
Instantly, God spoke to my heart, letting me know that He didn’t want me to feel guilty. He wanted me to feel grateful—grateful for the privilege of attending church and being strengthened by associating with faithful disciples of Christ. Although I couldn’t hear everything, I could understand some things—and each one blessed my life. There were also special moments when the Spirit helped me understand those things I could not hear.
I felt grateful for the freedom to worship God and enjoy the blessings of going to His house. The Spirit testified to me that it was far, far better for me to be at Church meetings, partake of the sacrament, and learn what I could than not to attend at all.
That day my attitude changed. Instead of feeling downcast at my limitations, peace filled my heart, and I resolved to focus on the blessings of church attendance. I resolved to make a sincere effort to be thankful for what I could hear instead of being discouraged over what I couldn’t.

It’s worth doing, not only because you have life ahead but because you have eternity ahead, as well. Here is one report that suggests your reward for investing your inheritance well here will be to get to do it forever. President Wilford Woodruff gave this report in general conference in 1896.
“Joseph Smith continued visiting myself and others up to a certain time, and then it stopped. The last time I saw him was in heaven. In the night vision I saw him at the door of the temple in heaven. He came to me and spoke to me. He said he could not stop to talk with me because he was in a hurry. The next man I met was Father Smith; he could not talk with me because he was in a hurry. I met half a dozen brethren who had held high positions on earth, and none of them could stop to talk with me because they were in a hurry. I was much astonished. By and by I saw the Prophet again and I got the privilege of asking him a question.
“‘Now,’ said I, ‘I want to know why you are in a hurry? I have been in a hurry all my life; but I expected my hurry would be over when I got into the kingdom of heaven, if I ever did.’
“Joseph said: ‘I will tell you, Brother Woodruff. Every dispensation that has had the priesthood on the earth and has gone into the celestial kingdom has had a certain amount of work to do to prepare to go to the earth with the Savior when he goes to reign on the earth. Each dispensation has had ample time to do this work. We have not. We are the last dispensation, and so much work has to be done, and we need to be in a hurry in order to accomplish it.’
“Of course, that was satisfactory, but it was new doctrine to me” (Discourses of Wilford Woodruff, sel. G. Homer Durham, Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1946, pp. 288–89).

Now, Connie and I are completely thrilled to be here with you! When we landed at the airport last Monday, we somehow made our way to the curb with enough luggage to open a luggage store, and dialed the phone number of the young couple who was going to give us a ride here to campus and told them that we had arrived.

A few minutes later, Alge and Mika pulled up. They got out of the van with big smiles and bright eyes! They were incredibly happy and genuinely welcoming. Only Connie and I soon discovered that their joy had little to do with us, and much more to do with the fact that they had just been married three weeks ago! Alge and Mika, we love you.

We became fast friends as all of you who know them are and learned that Alge is from Curicau and Mika is from Japan. Mika graduated last year in social work and Alge is nearly finished with a degree in Business Management. We laughed together as we shared stories of how we met, and how Alge proposed. And Connie and I now know that Alge is a romantic!

Somehow our conversation turned to the Lord’s miracles in our lives and we heard them teach us that one of the ways we receive miracles from the Lord is by always being willing to act when the Lord nudges us. We agreed that we should always be ready to change course whenever the Lord taps us on the shoulder or prompts us to act.

Alge is a baseball player who had high hopes to play college baseball before feeling the Lord’s nudging to shift those plans and attend BYU–Hawaii. When the Lord tapped him on the shoulder Alge listened. He found himself in a class with a young smart student from Japan as his mentor. He soon learned that her name was Mika and that was the beginning of the miracle. Imagine if Alge had decided that baseball was more important than the Lord’s nudging and hadn't followed when the Lord tapped him on the shoulder. During our simple car ride, down a two-lane highway from the airport to Laie, as we laughed and shared stories, we all agreed that if we will move when the Lord nudges us, miracles will follow.

One Saturday in the middle of winter, my wife and I took advantage of a sunny but cold day to get to know our neighborhood better. We had recently moved thousands of miles from our home to the East Coast of the United States to pursue educational and career opportunities.
We decided to walk to a nearby university neither of us had visited. In time we found the university’s main library. We enjoy reading, and my wife, a graduate student, was curious to see what resources she might find for her studies. Because she was studying religious history, we browsed the stacks of the library’s religion section. As we glanced at some of the interesting titles, a small book with a familiar blue cover caught my eye.
“They have a Book of Mormon here!” I excitedly whispered.
I took the book from the shelf. It was an older copy, and I wondered how long it had been there. What really caught my attention was a small insert glued inside the front cover.
The insert was a brief testimony by a couple from Blackfoot, Idaho, USA. In their testimony, they explained what the Book of Mormon is and why it is important. They shared a brief but powerful testimony of the book, and they invited the reader to pray to know whether it was true.
Their words were simple, but their message went straight to my heart. Perhaps this couple meant for their testimony to be read by those not of our faith. Perhaps they had given this copy to someone they knew. Who knows how many times it had changed hands or how many miles it traveled to end up at the university library?
As I held the book in my hands, the Spirit filled my heart. For a moment, I felt my burdens wash away in the warmth of the Savior’s love.
That day in the library continues to remind me of the blessings I receive by reading the Book of Mormon and of the importance of sharing my testimony of it. Our testimonies may fall “upon stony places” or “into good ground” (see Matthew 13:3–9), but it is important that we share them. God will make sure they get delivered at the right time, in the right place, and to the right people.

I was nervous. At our last family home evening, Dad had announced that each of us would be given an important calling in our family.
Now it was Monday again, and it was almost time for family home evening. What calling was I going to get? I know, I thought, Mom and Dad will call me to lead the music. Everybody said I did that well. Or maybe I’m going to be the one to pass out family home evening treats. That was an assignment I would be happy to accept.
Finally Mom called all of us in. It was her turn to conduct.
One by one everyone arrived: my sisters, Roxana and Dayana; my brothers Bernie and Victorio; and Dad and Mom.
Dayana had the lesson, and it was really fun. She had lots of pictures and stories about family unity. Next it was time to write our weekly letters to my brother Rodolfo on his mission.
Then Dad announced the assignments. Dayana was assigned the music, Roxana got the refreshments, and Victorio and Bernie were chosen to be family home evening reverence leaders.
“What about me?” I asked impatiently.
“Well, Adalis,” Dad said, “you are very responsible and you are a Valiant in Primary, so you are going to have a very important assignment. You are going to be the family prayer secretary!”
I was so excited! It was a new position, and I got it!
“From now on,” Mom explained, “family prayer will be at 7:00 P.M. Adalis, you’re in charge of seeing that everyone meets for prayer exactly on time.”
I have had this calling now for about two weeks. Getting everybody together isn’t easy. But when I think about Jesus, and all the times He taught about prayer, I like to imagine He would do the same thing. He would get everyone together as a family to pray—exactly on time!

Elder Camargo, who joined the Church in an unusual way, said that “the missionaries never knocked on my door.” As a youth he attended a military academy in his native Resende, planning to become an officer. But because of an accident, he had to give up his dream. Instead he went to teach at the same military school that he had attended as a student. A few years later Elder Camargo decided to leave military service and enter the ministry. He attended the Methodist seminary for three years.

“On one occasion in one of my seminary classes,” he related, “the teacher was discussing the beliefs and doctrines of certain Christian groups, or sects, as they were called. I remember asking him about the Mormons, and he said that he didn’t know if Mormons were even Christians. I said, ‘I think that they think they are, because the name of their church is The Church of Jesus Christ of something,’ but I couldn’t remember the rest of it.

“The teacher said to me, ‘Why don’t you try to find out if there are Mormons in São Paulo so that we could invite one of their ministers to come here and explain their doctrines.’ So I went to the mission home in São Paulo and met the mission president, who sent two missionaries to our class to explain the doctrines. This was the beginning. To make the story short, I left the seminary, studied the doctrines of the Church for about eight months, and then was baptized with my wife. At that time we had five small children. Another child was born soon after we were baptized.”

Two other members of Elder Camargo’s class also left the seminary and joined the Church. And all three of them have been stake presidents and mission presidents.