Gospel Story Finder

I remember well getting back into school following my mission. I was rusty in math and other subjects after having been away from school for 2 years. I felt over my head. I found myself looking forward to my college days being over so I wouldn't feel so much pressure. I also longed for my days in the mission field where I was anxiously engaged in serving and helping people change their lives. Life seemed more fulfilling and enjoyable during my mission.
One day during this time, I came across a poem that hit me like a lightning bolt. It says:
Yesterday is but a dreamTomorrow is only a visionBut today - well livedMakes every yesterday a dream of happinessAnd every tomorrow a vision of hope.
I knew then that I couldn't return to my mission and I knew I couldn't fast-forward through my college years. I knew that I needed to focus on today and make it a day well-lived. That required an attitude adjustment. I made that adjustment and I have been blessed. You can make that adjustment if needed and be blessed.Being anxiously engaged does not need to nor should it wait until tomorrow.

Celebrating Christ’s life during the Christmas season brings both families and friends closer together. Jennifer Adams, of Pleasanton, California, discovered this when she went away to school.
She and her roommates knew they would spend most of the time leading up to Christmas away from their families. But they didn’t want to miss out on the traditions and special experiences of home, so they started some of their own.
They took a long candle, decorated it with numbers from 1 to 25, and placed it in the center of the living room. Every night they lit the candle and let it burn down one number.
While the candle burned, they sang traditional Christmas hymns and shared stories of service and giving. Some nights, they bore testimony of the Savior and talked about what Christmas meant to them.
It only took 15 minutes a night and made for a meaningful holiday season. It became a tradition Jennifer will one day incorporate in her own home. It also brought the roommates closer together and created a feeling of having a family even while they were away at college.

Just last month our youngest son, Chad, went to the temple with a beautiful, worthy young woman to be married for time and all eternity. As he took her hand and knelt at the altar, I looked into the mirrors on either side, and again I wanted to whisper, “Do you understand why it is so important to be clean and pure?” But this time I didn’t have to remind him, because the Spirit did the whispering.
To the youth of the noble birthright, look into the windows of eternity! See yourselves in the Lord’s holy temples. See yourselves living worthy and pure lives. Generations are depending on you! I testify that worthiness is possible because of the redeeming and enabling power of the Atonement of Jesus Christ. I pray that it may be said of each one of us, “They shall walk with me in white: for they are worthy.” In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

I have been a member of the Church for about a year and a half, and I just want to say thanks very much for the New Era. I am the only member of my family in the Church. My parents and eight brothers and sisters are Catholic. One day I left a copy of the New Era on the living room table, and my dad picked it up and started to read it. He said it was a very good magazine. Then he started to ask me questions about the Church. Well, I’ve been trying to get my parents interested in the Church for quite some time now, and your magazine, the New Era, kind of unlocked the door so I can talk to them about the gospel.
I feel that the magazine is a great missionary tool, and I am thankful that my girl friend gave me a year’s subscription for Christmas.
Keep up the good work. I sustain you one hundred percent.
Elder Jim TilleyPennsylvania Mission

One day as I was riding the bus to school, some boys who sit in the back were throwing paper balls everywhere. That didn’t really bother me, until I heard one of them say, “Hey, let’s throw them at those Mormons.”
These boys didn’t like me, my friends, or any of the other “Mormons” who ride the bus. They threw paper balls at us and swore a lot.
I wanted to shout at them and tell them to be quiet. I wanted to really lose my temper, but then I had a peaceful feeling. A thought came to mind that said, “It is okay to be proud to be a member of the Church. Try not to listen to their bad language.” The thought brightened my day, and I’m glad I chose not to lose my temper.
That night I prayed that they wouldn’t do the same bad things again the next day, and they didn’t. I’m so glad that I had the Spirit of the Lord with me, and I’m glad that my prayers were answered.

Let me give you a modern example. When I was in graduate school at Washington State University, at the end of winter semester I had just moved into a new apartment with my previous roommate, Amy. Ellen, our new roommate, was going home for the summer because she had a great internship lined up. Ellen's home was Juneau, Alaska. So just as I was moving in, she was taking off for the summer. Ellen had packed up everything she owned in her little pickup, planning to store her stuff at her sister's house, across the state, 6 hours away, in Olympia, Washington. The next day, she was supposed to catch her flight from Seattle to Juneau so she could start her internship the following day. She was on a tight schedule. Of course, disaster struck. In the middle of nowhere, Ellen's pickup broke down. This is in the 1990s--before everyone had cell phones. Ellen found someone nice who drove her to the closest town and she was at a service station, waiting for the tow-truck driver. In despair, Ellen called us. My roommate Amy answered the phone. The next thing I knew, Amy was grabbing her coat and keys. She was going to get Ellen. Now, I don't remember what Amy had planned for that weekend, but it certainly wasn't a 700-mile 12-hour round trip across Washington State 350 miles there and 350 miles back. I felt ashamed. My first thought hadn't been to go get Ellen. But, I rationalized that Amy and Ellen were practically family. Ellen had been roommates with Amy's two older sisters and had even spent holidays with their family. So then I didn't feel quite so bad.

But the Kirtland story doesn’t end with these marvelous manifestations. A year after the temple’s dedication, the community was fraying. An international economic crisis led to massive unemployment in the United States. Banks failed across the country, including a small bank established by Church leaders in Kirtland to spur development of the community. Joseph Smith and other Church leaders desperately tried to save the economy of the community. But the tide of the global economic crisis was too much. People began to lose jobs and homes. Many began to murmur against God and the Church. Why had the Lord allowed His people to fail economically? Some began to whisper and then proclaim that Joseph was a fallen prophet.

At one meeting in the summer of 1837 in the Kirtland Temple, Joseph Smith Sr., the Church patriarch, spoke in his son’s absence. As he spoke, a dissenter tried to pull him from the pulpit. When William Smith defended his father, a fellow Apostle threatened to kill William with a sword. Other men with knives and pistols surrounded William. The temple, which had been a place of sacredness and spirituality a year earlier, was now a place of violence, dissension, and chaos.

When Joseph Smith returned to Kirtland, most Church members sustained him as the prophet, but three Apostles were removed from the Quorum of the Twelve. Economic problems had turned into spiritual problems. Within a few more months, the Lord told Joseph to leave Kirtland for the safety of his family and for the sake of his own life.

Eyewitness accounts testify to the difficulties of that time. Vilate Kimball, the wife of Apostle Heber C. Kimball, sent a letter to her husband, who was then serving as one of the first missionaries in England. “I have no doubt but it will pain your heart,” she wrote to Heber, telling him about the dissenters. “They profess to believe the Book of Mormon and Doctrine and Covenants but in works deny them.”

Vilate knew that Joseph was not perfect. He had made mistakes in the Kirtland economic crisis. And she continued to love many among the dissenters. But she saw a deeper lesson in the events of 1837: “The Lord says, he that cannot endure chastisement but denies me cannot be sanctified.”

In the same letter, Marinda Hyde added a note to her husband, Orson, also an Apostle serving in England. Marinda’s older brother was one of the Apostles who had left the Church. “Such times in Kirtland you never witnessed as we now have, for it seems that all confidence in each other is gone,” she wrote.

A few months following my high school graduation I found myself at Army basic training at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri. In the early days of this experience I was stripped of my lifelong support structure of family, friends and Church leaders. I remember like it was yesterday when I had the realization it was entirely up to me to decide if the habits I had practiced during my upbringing were going to be maintained or cast aside. Nobody cared if I said my prayers, read my serviceman's copy of the Book of Mormon, or attended church services. I remember my first few prayers were offered as I lay in my top bunk in a barracks room with seven other guys. How was I going to kneel to pray at someone else's bedside? I learned to kneel in bed.

I remember packing my copy of the Book of Mormon in my cargo pocket or in my ruck sack and squeezing in reading when I could. I remember being asked if we wanted to attend Catholic, Jewish or Protestant worship services whose buildings were nearby. When most of the other soldiers fell out of formation having chosen one of those options, I was asked why I was still standing there. When I told them I wanted to worship with the Latter-day Saints, I was informed that they met in a small office building on the other side of the base. On the base, LDS services were two hours (sacrament and priesthood meetings.) The drill sergeants thought that was a little excessive—I didn't mention it was normally three hours. As I settled into my weekly Sunday routine of attending my meetings, I soon found a phone booth along the way and, if I ran almost the entire way, I could fit in a short phone call to check in with loved ones at home. I was blessed to find ways to maintain my habits while away from home. You will be blessed as you seek to develop and maintain good habits while you are in school and wherever you may find yourself.

“I urge you to do what a missionary companion of mine did. He had run away from home as a teenager, and someone had placed a Book of Mormon in a box he carried with him in his search for more happiness.
“Years passed. He moved from place to place across the world. He was alone and unhappy one day when he saw the box. The box was filled with things he had carried with him. At the bottom of the box, he found the Book of Mormon. He read the promise in it and tested it. He knew it was true. That witness changed his life. He found happiness beyond his fondest dreams.

When I graduated from BYU in 1996, I felt a bit lost. So much in my life was not what I had imagined it would be, and the future felt incredibly scary and uncertain. I was looking for Heavenly Father to direct me in every decision, big and small. I wanted a set of step-by-step directions to tell me exactly what to do and how to do it. I believed the Lord would direct my path, but my fear was at times immobilizing.

One day I came across a book titled Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway by Susan J. Jeffers (1987). I don’t remember much about the content of the book—or if I even read more than just a few pages of it—but the title was the perfect description of the faith I needed to demonstrate. I needed to act on my faith in the Savior. I needed to act on my belief that He would always be with me and strengthen me, no matter the circumstance. We might feel scared, confused, or uncertain, but we can still move forward with faith in Jesus Christ. This is what it means to put our trust in Him.

Sister Rebecca L. Craven has taught, “A key component of trusting in the Lord is moving forward, believing He will guide us even when we don’t have all the answers.”8 As I started to move forward, even while also feeling fearful and uncertain, I gained a greater capacity to act more fully on my faith. Some of that faith to act looked like accepting a teaching position in inner-city Washington, DC, and then making the decision to attend graduate school in New York City. However, acting on my faith looked most importantly like an intentional decision to stay on the covenant path. This included committing to actively attend church, even when I didn’t always feel I fit in; worthily partaking of the sacrament to renew my covenants with the Lord; striving to develop Christlike attributes; repenting; studying the scriptures to strengthen my knowledge and testimony of gospel truths; attending the temple; loving and serving others; and more fully understanding my identity as a beloved daughter of God. All of these efforts to stay on the covenant path and trust in the Lord required faith—faith in Jesus Christ as my Savior and Redeemer and the belief that He had something better for me in the future. This tremendous growth period in my life began as I learned to put my full trust in the Lord and act on my faith in Him.

My daughter Jacque and I once attended a Primary daddy-daughter party together. The girls had all prepared box lunches for the meal. For dessert, each father and daughter were to decorate a cake. Because I am a dentist, Jacque and I made a giant icing tooth on our cake. Of course, after the eating, there were games and contests.
One of the games we played that night was a relay contest. The Primary leaders had placed four plastic bowling pins in a pattern on the floor of the cultural hall. Each father was to blindfold his daughter. Then he was to direct her through and around the pins, across the cultural hall, and then back to the starting point, where the next pair would begin. He was not to touch her with his hands; he could only use his voice to tell her which way to go. We were divided into two teams.
It seemed such a simple game, but it was actually quite difficult. Most of the fathers would holler, “Go right!” or, “Go left!” or, “Stop!” or “Go straight!” But with both teams cheering loudly, it was easy for a girl to confuse the voice of the opposing team’s father with her own father’s voice. Often the two girls racing each other would get the instructions mixed up. Also, some of the fathers gave their instructions hesitantly, and so lost precious time. And some of the daughters did not follow the instructions accurately. They either went too fast or moved in the wrong direction and occasionally knocked down some pins.
But there was one father and daughter who surprised us all. This father had a serious disease that interfered with his coordination. His movement and speech were slow. When it was their turn and the blindfold was in place, I heard the father say to his daughter, “Don’t worry about left or right or fast or slow. Just walk at a steady pace and listen to my voice. I’ll keep talking the whole time, and you just follow the sound of my voice.”
At the signal they began, and he gently repeated over and over, “Just follow my voice,” or, “Don’t listen to the others, just to me.” I was amazed as they steadily walked with short steps right through the course, much faster than any of the others, so fast in fact that their team won.

I want to share a beautiful story about one who faced his own Garden of Gethsemane—one of your friends, Mick. He served a mission in Japan. After he returned, he earned a B.A. in political science at this great university. And he served as president of your Cougar Club. He married and had two sons.

He was active in sports and was very talented in every way when he was in school. When he had almost graduated from law school, he went to work as a clerk for a prestigious law firm in Nebraska. At their summer office garden party a tragedy occurred. The party was in a well-to-do neighborhood, and the houses bordered a man-made lake. Many people were swimming and boating on the lake. Mick decided to go for a swim and dove into what proved to be a shallow spot. He lost consciousness and someone was administering mouth-to-mouth resuscitation when the paramedics arrived his neck was broken, and his whole body was paralyzed. He could not move any part of his body below his neck. He required special equipment just to fill his lungs with air.

Someone asked how much he had had to drink. A friend replied, “Oh, he hadn’t been drinking. He’s a Mormon.”

His doctor said he did not expect him to survive such an injury. He told the family he would be lucky to make it through the first night. Now, five years later, Mick Boyle has made it through much more. He has overcome tremendous odds, has survived emotional and physical pain and suffering.

Determined to graduate, Mick resumed studying in his hospital bed in the intensive care unit at the University of Utah Medical Center only three weeks after the accident. He studied eight to ten hours each day. His fellow law school students at BYU brought tapes of lectures, notes, and textbooks to him every day. He also studied from a flip-chart, and he simply had to wait until someone came by that was nice enough to help him find the proper pages. He went through that kind of a condition.

In the spring of 1978, Mick graduated from the J. Reuben Clark Law School with members of his own class. Shortly thereafter he passed the Utah Bar Examination and became a licensed practicing attorney. He went right to work at the Legal Center for the Handicapped in Salt Lake City. In eighteen months he handled approximately 80 cases, always representing handicapped individuals in need of legal assistance.

To add to his turmoil and pain, his wife decided he was not to be her eternal companion, took the two babies, and left. That was a great shock to Mick, but he never ever complained. He said to the Lord, “Thy will be done.” He insisted on serving the Lord. Then last spring the Lord answered his prayers. His former nurse came one day and knocked on his door and they became congenial friends. One day, Shirley expressed so beautifully, “I want to be your eternal companion.” What a beautiful story!

Two weeks ago I asked Shirley to bear her testimony in stake conference. She gave a most beautiful testimony. There was not a dry eye in that conference. My brothers and sisters, Mick continued on. Someone asked him, “Don’t you ever get depressed?”

He answered, “Oh, sure, some days I can get very depressed. However, I know there is a lot of work to be done, not only for others, but also helping myself to get well, and I must prepare to meet my Savior.” Brothers and sisters, don’t you think this is our goal, to prepare ourselves for the day to come?

Mick works hard at getting well. He has faith and keeps a positive attitude about his situation all the time. He exercises every day and maintains contact with the doctors. He has recently made a most astonishing improvement and breakthrough.

Her name was Maria, and she had lived in New York City for decades. She worked in a building a few blocks away from the towers. She told us that a few weeks before September 11, she had received a strong feeling that she should pray and ask if God was there. She said that up until that point in her life, she hadn’t prayed much and hadn’t really felt like she needed to. She didn’t feel an answer to her prayer until terrorists struck the towers on that fateful morning. Chaos and confusion ensued all around her, yet she suddenly felt calm. Maria told us that she felt this incredible peace and that, in spite of all the inexplicable destruction of the moment, she felt that God was there looking out for her.

William Wood’s teenage years ended while he was serving in the British navy. Now, after war experience in the Crimea and China, and a three-year voyage around the world aboard the (His Majesty’s Ship) Retribution, the sailor enjoyed being home again on the Isle of Sheppey, near the mouth of the Thames River. He relayed and became reacquainted with his relatives, none of whom had appreciated his joining The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints five years earlier.
After being home two weeks William looked up the local branch of the Church. His sister went along, thinking he was just going for a walk. They ended up at a Mormon meeting in Sheerness held in “a little upstairs room in a dirty back alley.” William received a hearty welcome from the branch president and the few Saints who had known him before.
They called on him to speak at the meeting and tell about his sea experiences. His sister was surprised, he noted, “at finding me still a Mormon and hearing me preach.”
To supplement his discharge pay of 80 pounds sterling, William found work as a butcher. He was hired at good wages by none other than his former employer at Maldon, Mr. Blaxall, the man who fired him years before for joining the Latter-day Saints. William returned to Maldon and worked for about a year, during which period he had two pressing goals: emigrating to Zion and “selecting me a wife.”
Early in 1862 the seaman met and fell in love with Elizabeth Gentry, the attractive, 16-year-old daughter of the branch president in Maldon. Her mother had joined the Church in 1853, Elizabeth in 1854, and her blacksmith father the next year. Brother Gentry and William, converts the same year, had served together as priests at preaching services around Maldon before William’s navy service.
When William and Elizabeth became engaged, they counseled with traveling elder Francis M. Lyman about immigrating to Zion. Elder Lyman, later a member of the Council of the Twelve, advised the couple to join the emigrating company he was then organizing.
The couple joined other emigrating Saints at London and then the group traveled to Liverpool and boarded the old sailing ship William Tapscott, which had been specially chartered by Church emigration agents. For the voyage, the vessel received one of the largest Latter-day Saint companies ever to emigrate together across the Atlantic, numbering 800 souls from the British Isles, Denmark, and Sweden. “It was an interesting sight,” William reported, “to see the Saints boarding the ship with all kinds of tin utensils tied in bunches and some were carrying their straw mattresses on their heads, while others were carrying all kinds of parcels and lunch baskets. Some had old pieces of furniture … or some old picture of great-grandparents.”
William thought it remarkable how quickly the large crowd, divided into shipboard wards headed by specially appointed presiding elders, became orderly. “I do not think the same number of non-Mormons would have settled down to such order,” the veteran of shipboard life observed. “Nothing but the Spirit of the Lord would produce such harmony.” The ship left the Liverpool docks on May 13, 1862.
Ward teachers were assigned to each family, and Elder Lyman requested William to be responsible for the welfare of seven emigrants, including Elizabeth. The seaman obtained their rations, arranged for their food to be cooked, and performed other needed services. The slow, six-week voyage, characterized by rough seas and much sea-sickness, ended at Castle Garden in New York. The company passed health inspections, then boarded trains for St. Louis, Missouri. Because the American Civil War then was escalating, “we were moved and changed about a number of times. At one place we were hustled on board of a freight train. The cars had been loaded with hogs and they had not been swept or cleaned out, thus we were choked with the dust and could taste it for days afterwards.”
At the Missouri River they transferred to a small steamboat. It arrived near Council Bluffs, Iowa, very late at night, in the darkness, and passengers and baggage were unloaded at a fast speed and in confusion. At daybreak the weary travelers located their scattered luggage, then assembled at the Church’s emigration campground. There they were organized into companies of tens, fifties, and hundreds by Church emigration agent Joseph Young. William, being a military veteran, was named captain of the guards.
Wagons and teams had to be prepared, baggage loaded, food supplies purchased and packed, and teamsters trained. While this work was being done the camp was struck by a violent storm with high winds, torrential rains, and vivid lightnings. Cattle broke loose and stampeded, doing great damage. Lightning killed at least two Saints and badly injured several others. Floods washed gullies 3 meters deep in places. During the storm William, as captain of the guards, was called on to help a sister give birth under a collapsed tent—both mother and son remained his lifelong friends in Utah. The company needed two or three days to recover from the storm, and many Saints never found boxes and bags washed away by the flash floods.
A Brother Cooper, noticing William’s skill with cattle, hired him to train his teams to work together in a yoke and then drive them to Utah. In return William and Elizabeth were promised free transportation. A few days later, however, their employer announced that he did not intend to go to Zion but wanted them to help him farm nearby. When William refused, he and Elizabeth were ordered out of the wagon and left without food or water.
Fortunately for the stranded couple, Elders Lyman and Charles C. Rich rode in from the west and found them that evening. They arranged for Elizabeth to ride to Utah with a family named Wardell for 40 dollars. Elder Lyman, however, asked William to return to Florence to help with the D. F. Kimball freight train. The fiancé agreed to this separation reluctantly:
“I think this was the greatest trial I ever underwent—to leave my betrothed and go back. However, I submitted and kissed my girl good-bye and gave her a half sovereign, all the money I had in the world, and jumped in the buckboard and we went, I with a sorrowful heart and a mind full of reflections as to the outcome of it all. Brother Rich found I was in tears and told me to cheer up and have faith and all would be well.”
His first night in camp provided the other men with a good laugh then and for years after. William, preparing for bed, reached in his bag for what he thought were closely woven cotton sailor overalls and instead he held up “some sort of ladies’ underwear trimmed and adorned with lace.” His comrades laughed loudly. He had taken his sweetheart’s bag by mistake instead of his own! But perhaps the seaman was more fortunate than the others: while the freight company members slept on hard ground for three months, William rested comfortably in his sea hammock slung between two wagon wheels. On rainy nights he simply covered himself and hammock with canvas.
Day by day the scenery and travel grew increasingly tiresome. Near Chimney Rock (in what is now Wyoming) some of the cattle became diseased and died, forcing the company to make shorter drives each day. William began to think he would never get to Utah and rejoin Elizabeth.
Finally one October Saturday, William’s company descended the hills above Salt Lake City, awed by a beautiful sunset across the Great Salt Lake and by the splendid square-blocked city stretched out below them. As they approached the city, an occupant of a nearby cabin called and waved to William. It was Sister Wardell, the woman with whom Elizabeth had traveled to Utah! William hurried to her, but his anticipation was instantly crushed. She informed him that Elizabeth no longer loved him and planned to marry a local polygamist!
“This was like a bolt of thunder to me,” he recalled. Heartsick, the young man continued with the company to the valley floor, then returned that night to the Wardells. The woman tried to persuade William to marry her daughter, but he was not interested. “I formed a resolution that I was going to have the ‘love of my youth’”, he said.
Friends from Maldon lived in Centerville so early the next week William hiked 19 kilometers to locate them. He arrived at night, and “to my great joy the girl of my heart was found lying asleep on an old home-made lounge and looking free although almost in rags. She awoke, and her joy was unbounded.” Elizabeth then explained that the Wardell woman had tried to marry her to her own son. That failing, the mother sent the girl away and kept all the clothes and bedding until Elizabeth’s 40-dollar fare was paid in full. The woman then had made up the story about Elizabeth’s loss of affection for William, hoping the navy veteran would marry into the Wardell family.
William returned to Salt Lake City and drove his freight team to Springville where he received his three months’ wages. Then he walked back to Salt Lake, paid off the 40-dollar debt, obtained his and Elizabeth’s belongings, and then got a ride back to Centerville. Two weeks later the engaged couple were married.
Hard work brought the young couple a fine brick home and prospering meat business in Salt Lake, enabling them to pay for the immigration of Elizabeth’s family in 1867. But the next year the Woods gave up home and career to fill a difficult colonizing mission to Arizona. They returned destitute four years later and took up residence in a poor smelter dug in the side of a hill within sight of their former home.
William again left his prospering business and a growing family in 1880 to a mission to his home country. Near the end of that otherwise successful mission he reported:
“I preached the Gospel to my dear ones, my father, mother, brother, and sister, and although none of my own kindred have obeyed, they had to acknowledge they could not confute the doctrine, and they feel today that I am not what they judged me to be twenty-seven years ago. When a boy … All my dear relations have treated me with marked kindness, as they have any of the Elders that called upon them at the time. I know God will bless them for that.”
Six years after he returned from his mission, his beloved Elizabeth gave birth in her 42nd year to their 13th baby, but within days both mother and baby died. William later remarried, and he and his families went on to gain prominence in Canada where the Wood name became linked with extensive ranching and meat-packing interests. William’s son Edward J. served for many years as a stake president and temple president in Alberta.
The year before William died, he wrote his impressive life story, hoping his example as convert, sailor, pioneer, and missionary might teach young people in the Church that “should they have to leave the place where they have been taught the gospel … never to yield to any invitation that leads to intemperance or immorality. Always pray to the Lord, whether you are called by the servant of God to preach the Gospel or surrounded by the horrors of war—never forget to offer a silent prayer to your Eternal Father. He will not forget you.”

My journey through life has included medical studies, during which a connection between faith and medicine became evident to me. One time while training in cardiac surgery, I assisted in a heart operation. A patient was to receive a coronary artery bypass. Preparatory steps included connecting a heart-lung machine to ensure that vital blood and oxygen supply would be in the body’s circulatory system.
Using a special liquid solution, the surgeon temporarily stopped the heart so he could perform the procedure without the heart moving. I carefully watched the surgeon’s hands and saw him slightly lift the heart in front of him in the chest. At that moment he turned to me with a subtle movement of his head. He asked me to carefully grasp the heart with my right hand so that it could be stabilized for the bypass procedure.
When I held the patient’s heart in my hand, I immediately felt an enormous responsibility, as well as a deep sense of awe. The following words from Doctrine and Covenants 101:16 came to my mind: “Be still and know that I am God” (see also Psalm 46:10).
I associate this image of a calm heart with the spiritual realization that Jesus Christ, as our Savior, takes our heart in His hands and heals it.

“Matthew,” sighed Mom, “you promised to clean your room right after school. Now it’s time for your den meeting, and you haven’t done a thing.”
“I’m sorry, Mom. I forgot,” said Matthew contritely. “I promise I’ll do it tomorrow.”
“I hope so,” she replied.
The den meeting was especially good. They made plastic skeletons with bones that actually moved.
“Please pass in your dues now,” said the den mother.
“Oh, no!” declared Matthew. “I’m sorry. I forgot. I’ll bring mine next time.”
“Please do, Matthew,” she said.
Matthew awoke the next morning to the sound of the garbage truck rumbling past his house.
“Matthew,” called Mom, “did you put the garbage out last night?”
“Oh, no!” he groaned. “I’m sorry. I forgot. I’ll do it next week, I promise.”
“But the cans are full now,” said Mom.
The next afternoon, Matthew’s teacher said, “Pass in your math homework, please. This assignment is worth one hundred points.”
“Oh, no!” wailed Matthew, hitting his forehead with his hand. “I forgot.”
“There will be no makeups,” said the teacher firmly.
On Sunday Matthew was startled to hear the Primary president say, “Matthew Lewis will give us a talk now.”
“Oh, no,” he whispered as he walked to the microphone. His face got very red. “I—I,” he stammered, “I’m sorry. I don’t have a talk ready. I forgot.”
He sat down, hunching over so that no one could see his face.
“You can give a talk next month, Matthew,” the Primary president said kindly.
“Hey, Matthew,” said Tom, poking him in the ribs as they entered their classroom, “that was a great talk. Why don’t you give the same one next month?” The boys around Matthew broke out in laughter. During the class, Matthew struggled to hold his tears back. He was the first one out the door after the closing prayer.
At home Matthew quickly changed into jeans and a T-shirt, then went into the backyard. Crawling under the low-hanging branches of a huge bush, he settled himself against the heavy, main stem and let the tears come freely.
What can I do? he wondered, miserable. I forget everything! Other people remember. What’s the matter with me? He tore at a leaf. Maybe I should pray, he thought. It seemed like such a good idea that Matthew immediately bowed his head. “Heavenly Father,” he said earnestly, “I forget everything. I want to stop. Please help me to remember.”
Matthew felt so good after his prayer that he couldn’t sit still another second. Bursting out from under the bush, he somersaulted all the way to the house. “I’m never going to forget another thing!” he bragged at dinner.
“I’m glad to hear that,” said Mom.
On Monday morning, Matthew’s teacher asked for his book order. “Today is the last day,” she said.
Matthew was astonished as the truth sunk in. “I—I forgot,” he stammered. How did I forget? he wondered. I was sure it wouldn’t happen again!
On Tuesday morning Matthew awoke from a deep sleep and sat bolt upright. The garbage truck was rumbling around the corner. He felt cold all over. “I forgot again!” He whispered. “What’s wrong with me?” He felt very ashamed when he saw the empty cans sitting by the curb. Dad must have put them out before he left for work.
On Wednesday his den mother phoned. “We missed you at this week’s meeting, Matthew. Were you sick?”
“Sick?” said Matthew. “No.” But he was beginning to feel sick. “I guess I forgot.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. We passed off our physical fitness requirements. Maybe you can do yours with your dad.”
“OK,” said Matthew.
But Matthew knew that getting his physical fitness badge was only part of his problem. “Dad,” he asked after dinner, “can you help me?”
“I’ll try, Matthew. Let’s talk about it while we do the dishes,” answered Dad. “What’s the matter?”
“I forget everything. I don’t mean to, but it just keeps happening,” explained Matthew, dumping dirty silverware into the sudsy water.
“What have you done to stop forgetting?” asked Dad.
“I prayed,” said Matthew. “I asked Heavenly Father to help me remember.”
“Did He?” asked Dad.
“No,” said Matthew, “and I don’t understand. You always say He answers prayers.”
“He does, Matthew, but in His way. Once Oliver Cowdery had trouble trying to translate. Why don’t you read section nine of the Doctrine and Covenants and find out why he had trouble and decide if something similar is happening to you. Then come back and we’ll work out a plan to help you, OK?”
After the dishes were finished, Matthew went to his room and read about Oliver Cowdery. Matthew looked thoughtful as he finished reading.
On Sunday morning three weeks later Matthew stood behind the microphone in Primary. His hair was neatly combed, his shoes freshly polished, and his face scrubbed and shining. “When Sister Jordan asked me to give a talk last month, I promised that I would,” he began. “You probably remember what happened.”
Several boys on the back row snickered.
“I was pretty embarrassed about forgetting it. I was forgetting a lot of other things too. I wanted to stop, so I prayed and asked Heavenly Father to help me remember.
“What happened really surprised me. We’ve all been taught that Heavenly Father answers prayers. I was sure that He would answer mine, but I just kept right on forgetting everything.
“Then I read in the Doctrine and Covenants about Oliver Cowdery. He wanted to translate some records, but he couldn’t seem to do it. In section nine, verses seven and eight, the Lord told him why: ‘Behold, you have not understood; you have supposed that I would give it unto you, when you took no thought save it was to ask me.
“‘But, behold, I say unto you, that you must study it out in your mind.’ [D&C 9:7–8]
“I knew I had acted just like Oliver Cowdery. I expected the Lord to do all my work for me. Well, Dad helped me ‘study out’ my problem. I got a calendar, and Heavenly Father helped me remember to write my promises on it. I still have to read it and do all the things I promised to do, but I don’t forget very much anymore, and I feel a lot better about myself now.”
Matthew felt happy when he finished his talk. And there were Mom and Dad in the back of the room, smiling proudly.

The story is told that toward the end of World War II an allied general came to the front lines one night to inspect his troops. As he walked along he would point out into no-man’s-land and say “Can you see them? Can you see them?”

Finally, someone said, “General, we can see nothing. What do you mean?” He said, “Can’t you see them? They’re your buddies; they are the ones who gave their lives today, yesterday, and the day before. They’re out there alright, watching you, wondering what you are going to do; wondering if they have died in vain.”

A young woman I know was a little frustrated with friends questioning her standards: “Why can’t you date before 16?” “Why don’t you drink?” When she prayed about how to handle this situation, this idea came to her mind: “I’m going to put a For the Strength of Youth booklet in my jeans pocket. When people question me about, for example, dating, I’ll give them the book and tell them to read the section on dating.”

It turned out to be a great idea! In three months she gave out 52 copies of For the Strength of Youth. And three new friends started attending church with her.

This young woman was bold in a friendly way and didn’t apologize for her standards. When youth live standards clearly and without apology, others will respect them and look to their example.Mary N. Cook, second counselor in the Young Women general presidency.

Everyone in the family enjoys music and singing. Emma plays the flute, often accompanied on the piano by her mother or one of her brothers. When Emma looks after her baby brother, she often sings to him. She always sings when she concentrates on something. On her first day of school, all her classmates suddenly got quiet. They turned around, and there was Emma, singing to herself as she painted a picture.

Let me tell you my personal experience. I grew up in California, away from the heart of the Church. But I never sensed that separation. I loved my ward in California. Going to Church and participating was simply our way of life. In those early years, the sacrament meetings I remember the most were the ones that involved missionaries either leaving on their missions or coming home. I so admired the faith and courage of those who left. As I watched the faith of those who were leaving on missions, and as I observed the purity and strength of those who came back, I knew that, someday, I wanted to be a missionary. I wanted to be like them – full of faith and goodness, and that feeling never left me. At the start of 9th grade, my family moved back to Salt Lake City and I began those wonderful high school years. There were new friends, new influences and new interests.

We had a large ward with many young men in the ward. There was also an escalating war in Vietnam that had an enormous impact on the ability of young men to serve missions. Because there was a draft, coupled with mandatory military service for those who were drafted, the Church entered into an agreement by which the number of missionaries that could be sent each year was limited to two missionaries per ward. Under the system where each ward could send only two each year, it would be many, many years before I would be able to serve.

By July 1970, I had finished the first year of college and would turn missionary age in August. Earlier that year I had met Mary, and by July, we were very much in love.

One hot, July afternoon, I returned home from work, and my mother said to me, “The bishop called. He wants to see you.” I asked “When?” and was told that he wanted to see me “now” at the ward. I went to the ward and found Bishop Matheson waiting for me in his office. I could soon tell that this was not an ordinary interview. After making the needed inquiries about me and my life, Bishop Matheson said: “David, it is very unusual, but we have been given the blessing of sending one more missionary this year. Because this was unexpected, as a bishopric we determined to ask the Lord who He would send now. David, what I can tell you is that ‘now’ is the time the Lord would have you serve your mission.” I had no idea that this is what we would be talking about. I had always wanted to go, but I was stunned at the statement that “now” was the time that the Lord would have me serve. I asked for a week to think about it. I left and got into the car and drove around for about an hour, ending back at the ward. Bishop Matheson was alone in his office. I asked him what he was doing, and he said that he was “waiting for me.”

I knew I wanted to serve a mission but hadn’t thought I could. Do you ever feel that way? The thought that God was aware of me and that there was a time when He wanted me to serve, and a place and people He had prepared had never occurred to me. To the bishop I said, “Bishop, if ‘now’ is the time the Lord would have me serve, of course I will go.” That was July. In August, I received my call to serve in the Japan Mission.

On October 10, 1970, I entered the Salt Lake Mission Home (we didn’t have an MTC in those days) and after a period of studying Japanese here in Hawaii, I was soon on my way to Japan, arriving on December 10, 1970. During my mission, I grew. My testimony became sure. I came home clean and anxious for whatever the Lord would have me do next in my life.

Gratefully, Mary waited, and three months after my mission ended, we were sealed in the Salt Lake Temple. Since that time, we have been blessed with eight wonderful children and 28 grandchildren.

Through it all, we have been anchored and blessed by the gospel of Jesus Christ and the faith we gained during my missionary service. Together, our faith and testimony have grown as we have stood together and met life’s challenges. Together, we have the assurance and witness that God is our Father, that His Son is our Savior and that we are led by Prophets and Apostles. All of this, in one way or another, is the result of having made the commitment to offer to the Lord two years of my life as a missionary. Indeed, everything good that has happened in my life -- or our life -- can be traced to the decision to serve a mission for the Lord. Every strength we had together had to be “faithened” in order for me to accept the call, and for Mary to let me go.