Gospel Story Finder

Among the early converts in Ohio was Luke S. Johnson. His parents, the John Johnsons, who owned a large farm near Hiram, Ohio, visited the Prophet at Kirtland. Mrs. Johnson suffered from chronic rheumatism and had been unable to use one of her arms for six years. During the visit, the Prophet took Mrs. Johnson by the hand and declared, “In the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, I command thee to be whole.” Mrs. Johnson was healed. The occurrence left a lasting impression upon witnesses as evidence of priesthood power. This miracle was followed by other manifestations of varied gifts of the spirit among Latter-day Saints. But when certain former Shakers (members of a religious sect, started in England) attempted to imitate the true gifts with so-called “spiritual operations” practiced in their former religion, they were rebuked by the Prophet for their foolish rolling and turning and facial grimaces.

Some people may think it’s unusual for someone as young as Steven to play the organ for sacrament meeting, but for the Parkway Eighth Ward in South Jordan, Utah, young players are a regular occurrence. Steven is just one of seven youth in this ward who take turns playing the organ for sacrament meeting.
The youth involvement started when Sister Deanna Sorensen, the former ward organist, was going to retire from her job as a schoolteacher and go on a mission. There was only one other person in the ward who could play, so Sister Sorensen decided to teach some of the youth who already played the piano how to play the organ.
“Sister Sorensen was always talking about how the world needs more organ players,” says Emily Holbrook, 17.
Emily decided to learn the organ when Sister Sorensen was tutoring her in math and mentioned she would be teaching the organ. Emily thought it sounded exciting and wanted to learn how to play.
The most important thing she and the other students would learn was to hold down the organ keys for the duration of the notes, because unlike a piano, an organ has no sustain pedal. An organ also has two keyboards, a number of foot pedals, and things called stops, which change the type of sound that comes out of the organ.
Learning the organ can be difficult, but these youth have put in the effort and received support from their leaders and parents. And they know their efforts make a difference.
“It’s really blessed our ward because we’ve all developed a greater love and appreciation for the hymns,” Sister Craven says. She also says the ward has grown closer as they’ve come together to support the youth.
“A lot of people come up and give me compliments and they seem really happy the youth are helping out,” says Landon Howard, 14, another organist.
Playing for sacrament meeting was not easy at first. Lauren Howard, 17, remembers being nervous. “I was terrified,” she says. “I remember my hands were just shaking.” All the youth admitted they were scared, but they did it anyway.
“I knew it would be a good experience and it would help me overcome my fear of playing,” Lauren says. “And now it has. I’m a lot better than I was my first time.”
The key to overcoming fear, they learned, is putting effort into preparation.
“I just practiced a lot,” says Randon Fullmer, 13. The other youth agreed that practice helped them overcome nervousness. They also relied on the Lord.
“I think that the Lord has helped me play by calming my nervousness before I play,” Steven says. “I pray before I play, and it helps me play better, without too many mistakes.”
These students started taking lessons so they could learn a skill and help their ward, but in the process they learned a lot of other things.
“I know Heavenly Father is there,” says Jenny Forsyth, 16. “I know that I can’t do it without Him.”
Sharli Fullmer, 11, the youngest of the group has learned that “your testimony can grow when you sing and play because the hymns teach you truth.”
Sister Craven says the youth have also learned how to magnify a calling. They choose the hymns they would like to play, subject to approval from the ward music leader and the bishop. And not one of them has ever missed a Sunday assignment. Learning to play the organ will prepare them for future callings, especially if they are somewhere an organist is needed.
“I think it could be a good talent to use on a mission, for example,” Landon says.
Many youth at some point have the opportunity to learn to play a musical instrument, and some have the chance to play in sacrament meeting. The youth of the Parkway Eighth Ward know youth can be successful at both.
“Stick with it; don’t give it up,” Emily says. “A lot of people do it because their parents want them to. Or they get really discouraged because they’re not doing very well. I say just have fun with it and have a good attitude.”
“Pray to Heavenly Father that He will help you, and practice really hard and practice a lot,” Jenny says.
It’s the positive attitude, practice, and reliance on the Lord that has helped them to play and to serve, something they do so well that the members of their ward are excited to look and see who is playing.

I could see the young deacons losing interest as my mission companion talked. He was explaining the importance of doing missionary work with their friends.
One young man finally spoke up, “What can I do? I’m only thirteen. My friends aren’t interested in the Church. And even if they were, their parents wouldn’t let them be baptized.”
My companion kept talking with the young men, but my mind went back to when I was about twelve years old.
I had a best friend, Chris. We did everything together. But whenever a group of us would gather to do something mischievous, as boys sometimes do, Chris would refuse to take part. He said his parents would be mad if they found out.
Then one day I talked Chris into stealing tennis balls from some men playing tennis on the local courts. He followed me, even helped me gather a handful of balls, and then ran with me through the hole in the fence. When we arrived at my house, I noticed that Chris’s face was white.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“We’ve got to take these balls back,” he blurted out.
“No way. They’re ours now,” I replied. But Chris grabbed them and started to run. I had always been faster than Chris, but I couldn’t catch him that day. He ran right to the tennis players and gave every ball back. He said he was sorry and then did something I’d never seen before. He asked them for forgiveness. I just knew the men would call the police, but they let him go.
When we got home, I had a few questions for my best friend.
“I’m a Mormon,” he said.
“I know. You told me.”
“But I didn’t tell you how important my church is to me.” He went on to explain the standards of honesty he had been taught and how he could not feel right about stealing.
Six weeks later, I found myself in a font, ready to be baptized a Latter-day Saint.
Suddenly my attention returned to the deacons in front of me. I don’t know if it made much difference to those boys, but I told them how a young man their age had brought me into the Church. I told them they could and should do missionary work. They could teach with their example, just as Chris had done.

Suppose I find myself in a home built for me by a very generous landlord. It is a nice home. He encourages me to maintain and improve the home and gives me a number of instructions for making the home a nice place to live.

Over the years, I sometimes improve the home, but other times, through my negligence, I make it worse. One time, I flood the home when I fail to set the faucets to drip during a freeze. Another time, my kitchen catches fire because I fail to turn off a burner on the stove. A couple of times, I lose my temper and put my fist through a wall.

In each instance, the landlord forgives me and encourages me to pay a little closer attention to my home and to his instructions for making the home a joyful place to live. He does not charge me for the damage caused by my mistakes. Instead, sometimes he is patient while I figure out how to fix things on my own; sometimes he sends someone over to fix the problem; and, sometimes, I wake up and things are fixed in ways I don’t quite understand.

This same landlord happens to have a son who is quite wayward. The son is always up to no good and I don’t particularly like or respect him. One night, the landlord’s son, as a prank, sets fire to the shed attached to the back of my house. The fire gets out of control and the entire house burns down. I lose the home. I lose all of my possessions, including some particularly valuable possessions that I can’t replace, such as photos and heirlooms.

I’m angry and distraught. I want the no good son to pay. I want him to fix things and to make me whole. A part of me knows he can't really make it better. He may not have the resources to rebuild the house, and even if he could rebuild the house, he can't retrieve the photos and heirlooms. And that makes me even angrier.

As I sit in anger, the landlord comes to visit me. He reminds me that he has promised to take care of me. He promises me that he is willing to rebuild my house. In fact, he says that he will do more than that. He will replace my house with a castle and then give me all that he himself has. He says that this might take a while but he promises it will happen.

What’s the catch? I say.

Here are the conditions, he says. First, you need to put your faith in me and trust that I really will build you that castle and restore all that you have lost. Second, you need to continue to work on implementing the instructions I gave you about keeping up your house. Finally, you need to forgive my arsonist son, just as I have forgiven you all these many years.

—Littleton, Colorado, April 20, 1999
In high school I played power forward on Columbine High School’s girls’ varsity basketball team. The weekend before prom I met with my coach to set expectations for the upcoming season, which would be my senior year. Coach Sanders and our team had just completed our first winning season in 12 years. He showed our team how to work together and be united. I admired his leadership and kindness. I didn’t know that would be the last time I’d see him alive.
The following Tuesday, two male Columbine seniors carried out an attack on our school that was the worst school shooting in U.S. history. I was in my trigonometry class when the massacre began. Suddenly, fire alarms went off, and in a confused panic, teachers escorted us outside to wait. We watched as ambulances, police cars, and a SWAT team surrounded our school. When the rampage ended, 13 people had been murdered and 25 others were injured, some very seriously. Coach Sanders died of gunshot wounds while saving students by clearing out the crowded lunchtime cafeteria.
I was one of the lucky ones who didn’t see the actual violence or have to live with the gruesome images that replay in a person’s mind afterward. I did have to deal with the death of friends, and I had to learn how to be sensitive about letting others grieve at their own pace.
The day after the attack, my bishop met with all of us who had experienced the terror. For a long time, he and I sat in his office and cried together. I asked him why such a horrible thing had happened to us. After a few moments of quiet consideration, he asked me to read from the Doctrine and Covenants. “Ye cannot behold with your natural eyes, for the present time, the design of your God concerning those things which shall come hereafter, and the glory which shall follow after much tribulation. For after much tribulation come the blessings” (D&C 58:3–4).
It didn’t make sense that Heavenly Father would let this happen. My pain was too raw to see any blessings. But I knew there had to be something in these verses, since they were the ones my bishop wanted me to read.
Ten years have passed since the Columbine shootings. I’ve gone on to receive college degrees, serve a mission, and now work in a job I enjoy. When I reflect on the events surrounding the infamous shooting, three lessons rise to the surface.
No one got to say goodbye before the victims were taken from their families, although many attended the funerals in a variety of churches to show respect and gratitude for their lives. The services rang with emotional eulogies and were biting with sadness and hurt. Many believed those goodbyes were permanent. Because of what my parents had taught me and what I had learned in church and seminary, I knew that their deaths were not the end.
Salvation is possible because of Jesus Christ’s Atonement. The Savior paid the ultimate price for our redemption and happiness (see Luke 22:42). I know that we will always receive heavenly help to see us through our trials—the big, splashy, front-page ones and the poignant hurts that only we know about individually.
After the shooting, the question “Why did I have to experience this?” often passed through my mind. I had lost my innocent view of the world, the luxury of feeling safe and the ability to readily trust people. It was unfair that my basketball coach and my friends were taken from me. I often didn’t know how to respond to others who were hurting and I felt guilty and angry in my inadequacy. It was hard to believe that after this tribulation any blessing could come.
Because my self-pity and anger smoldered for so long, it was hard to recognize them as problems, let alone get rid of them. People thought I was difficult and found it hard to get along with me. I had to dig deep to understand the turmoil that was going on in my mind so I could find a healthy way to address it. I didn’t work through these issues alone. I relied on prayer, friends, family and trusted in the Savior’s healing Atonement to mend my wounded heart.
I had to give up feeling sorry for myself and learn again to trust others. Columbine helped me become more empathetic and patient, more compassionate and loving, and more full of hope and joy. My experience is that no matter what happens to us during life’s journey, it all turns out right in the end. If we take every question and every burden to the Lord, He promises that as we learn of Him our questions will be answered. He also promises that as we take His yoke, His name, upon us our burdens will become light (see Matthew 11:29–30). Finally, I could stop punishing myself and let the hurt go away.
Tumultuous events are all around us in the form of depression, natural disaster, terror, or even things as simple as gossip or disappointment. I can’t comprehend how the Columbine gunmen could sink into a place so dark that they felt justified in killing. I feel sorry for them because they didn’t know how to escape their mental turmoil. Though we live in a scary world, it is critical to know that we need not fear. We’re entitled to the power and peace of the Spirit as we live righteously. This is the Lord’s promise and He always keeps His promises.
“Fear not, little flock; do good; let earth and hell combine against you, for if ye are built upon my rock, they cannot prevail. … Look unto me in every thought; doubt not, fear not” (D&C 6:34, 36).
I’ve learned to let go of fear. I trust the Savior. I trust my Heavenly Father. I know we are all in His caring, merciful hands. We cannot control others or the world around us, but as children of God we can control how we respond to adversity. Cultivating a faith-filled perspective and uplifting thoughts tends to push out the negative and defeating ones. Anyone can turn on a light in a dark room; we create light and hope in the world as we choose to be happy.

Such a fracture developed between two heroes of the Restoration of the Church of Jesus Christ in these latter days. Parley and Orson Pratt were brothers, early converts, and ordained Apostles. Each faced a trial of faith but came through with an unshakable testimony. Both sacrificed and contributed greatly for the cause of truth.

During the Nauvoo era, their relationship became strained, culminating in a heated, public confrontation in 1846. A deep and prolonged rift developed. Parley initially wrote to Orson to resolve the rift, but Orson did not reply. Parley gave up, feeling that correspondence was over forever, unless initiated by Orson.1

Several years later, in March 1853, Orson learned about a project to publish a book on the descendants of William Pratt, the brothers’ earliest American ancestor. Orson began to weep “like a little child” as he glimpsed this treasure trove of family history. His heart melted, and he determined to repair the breach with his brother.

Orson wrote to Parley, “Now my dear brother, there are none among all the descendants of our Ancestor, Lieut[enant] William Pratt, who have so deep an interest in searching out his descendants as ourselves.” Orson was one of the first to understand that Latter-day Saints have an obligation to research and compile family histories so that we can perform vicarious ordinances for our ancestors. His letter continued: “We know that the God of our fathers has had a hand in all this. … I will beg pardon for having been so backward in writing to you. … I hope you will forgive me.”2 Despite their unshakable testimonies, their love for their ancestors was the catalyst to heal a rift, mend a hurt, and seek and extend forgiveness.3

When God directs us to do one thing, He often has many purposes in mind. Family history and temple work is not only for the dead but blesses the living as well. For Orson and Parley, it turned their hearts to each other. Family history and temple work provided the power to heal that which needed healing.

Family—what a sacred name for those we love the most. If someone asked you to name the greatest thing about your family, what would it be? I know that most families, including mine, are not perfect, but every day we are trying to be more kind and thoughtful to each other. This past month my father died. I learned many lessons from my dad. He had such great faith. He said, “Dying is just like walking into another room.” The day he died, I thought: My dad died today! This was his last day on earth! He has just walked into another room. It was such a sweet, sacred experience for my family and me.

“Today we’re going to talk about temple marriage,” my Mia Maid teacher said, smiling sweetly. I braced myself. It was going to happen—again.
Whenever subjects like temple marriage or the Word of Wisdom came up, someone always seemed to mention my dad, who was both non-LDS and a smoker. Many times he had even been used to illustrate the point.
Two hours later, still flushed and embarrassed from the class comments, I walked home.
My dad has a bad habit, but he’s not a bad person, I thought angrily. How can they judge him when they don’t really know him?
That night after church, I looked up some scriptures on judging others and found just the one I was looking for: “But … as you cannot always tell the wicked from the righteous, … hold your peace until I shall see fit to make all things known unto the world concerning the matter” (D&C 10:37).
I read the words over and over again, and each time I felt angrier and angrier at the ward members.
This scripture is proof that I’m right and they’re all wrong, I thought angrily.
I pictured myself at the pulpit quoting this scripture and setting everyone straight. No doubt, the congregation would be moved to repentant tears. I could hardly wait until testimony meeting next Sunday.
But during the week, my anger began to wear me down. It was too great a battle for one person to fight.
How can I take on the whole ward? I worried.
By Sunday, I had formulated a better plan—one that would really show my resentment. I would stay home with my dad on Sundays.
As my mom and sisters got ready for church, I put on a sweatsuit and plopped down in front of the television with my dad. Mom was upset, but I was sure Dad would be on my side.
After everyone had left, he asked why I was home. I told him everything, including how harshly he was being judged by some ward members.
He just sat there for a moment. Then he asked if the Church was important to me.
“Of course,” I said.
“Do you believe it’s true?” he asked.
“Yes, it’s true,” I said, wondering what he was getting at.
“If it’s true, then you should never let what someone says or does keep you away. Besides, I thought Mormons weren’t supposed to judge,” he said, nudging me playfully.
“Hold your peace,” the words from the scripture rang in my head. It suddenly seemed to apply more to me than to the ward. In my anger, I had forgotten that people make mistakes and sometimes say things that hurt, though they don’t mean to. Perhaps I had judged the ward members unfairly, I thought. Next Sunday I would go back to church.
All my life my father had been teaching me honesty, respect, hard work, and love. But that afternoon he taught me to forgive.

Jill Johnson of Sandy, Utah, tells how the Lord blessed her family: “As newly married college students, we had carefully budgeted our meager monthly income. Then the landlord raised our rent. We prayed for a blessing. The next day our old car broke down beyond repair. We wondered why we had these trials all at once, but the loss of the car turned out to be a blessing. With help from family and friends, we found we could manage without a car. The money saved on gas and oil was the same amount as our increase in rent. Sometimes we are blessed for obedience in unexpected ways.”

A highlight of Boys Nation for me was meeting then president Dwight D. Eisenhower in the Rose Garden of the White House. He was one of the most impressive men I have ever met. His deportment and bearing, his piercing blue eyes, and his commanding manner of address made an indelible impression on me. Senator Wallace F. Bennett of Utah hosted the two of us who were representing Utah. He was gracious and kind and devoted considerable time to us. He introduced us to then senators John F. Kennedy and Lyndon B. Johnson, as well as then vice president Richard M. Nixon, all of whom would be future presidents. The topic of civil rights was significant at that time. It was at Boys Nation that I was first introduced to the religious-based effort led by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. to achieve equality.

My admiration for President Eisenhower grew when a few months later, on September 23, 1957, he ordered the National Guard to support integration and protect the nine African American students who were attempting to integrate into Little Rock Central High School. The president’s action was in support of the Supreme Court’s decision of 1954, Brown v. Board of Education of Topeka, requiring integration of public schools.

Johanna was only eight when war came to her village in Holland and everything changed. When Johanna was ten, conditions were so bad that her only chance for life was to escape with an older sister and hide in a farmhouse many miles away from their home.
The two girls live with the Oosterveld family, who keep them hidden in an upstairs room—hidden from prying neighbors and from German soldiers who set up an office in the room just below them. Johanna and Sini spend days quietly in bed, bored and lonely and longing for exercise and fresh air. They spend years hidden away from the world.
This unforgettable book touches the heart and holds the reader breathless with excitement, wondering what will happen next. It was named a Newbery honor book for 1973.

Long years ago a severe drought struck the Salt Lake Valley. The commodities at the storehouse on Welfare Square had not been of their usual quality, nor were they found in abundance. Many products were missing, especially fresh fruit. As I was a young bishop, worrying about the needs of the many widows in my ward, my prayer one evening is especially sacred to me. I pleaded for these widows, who were among the finest women I knew in mortality and whose needs were simple and conservative, because they had no resources on which they might rely.
The next morning I received a call from a ward member, a proprietor of a produce business situated in our ward. “Bishop,” he said, “I would like to send a semitrailer filled with oranges, grapefruit, and bananas to the bishops’ storehouse to be given to those in need. Could you make arrangements?” Could I make arrangements! The storehouse was alerted, and then each bishop was telephoned and the entire shipment distributed. Bishop Jesse M. Drury, that beloved welfare pioneer and storekeeper, said he had never witnessed a day like it before. He described the occasion with one word: “Wonderful!”
The wife of that generous businessman is today a widow. I know the decision her husband and she made has brought her sweet memories and comforting peace to her soul.

In 1876, a renowned educator named Dr. William Clark was invited to come to Hokkaido to teach. He lived in Japan for just eight months, but his Christian spirit left a lasting impression on his young non-Christian students.

Before leaving, he gave his students a parting message that has become immortalized in this bronze statue. He said, “Boys, be ambitious!”—“Be ambitious for Christ.” His injunction to “be ambitious for Christ” can help direct daily decisions for today’s Latter-day Saints.

Tommy had noisy feet. When he came into the house from outside, his feet went clomp, clomp, clomp. Then baby sister woke up, opened her big blue eyes, and started to cry.
“Oh, Tommy,” sighed Mother, “now see what you’ve done. You woke up sister again. Why can’t you walk quietly?”
When Daddy was watching his favorite television program, he grumbled, “Tommy, can’t you walk quietly? I can’t hear a thing!”
When Tommy walked up the steps to the chapel door, his feet went clompety-clompety, clomp, clomp!
Then Mother would say, “Sh-h-h, Tommy. Sh-h-h!”
When he walked down the chapel aisle, Daddy would whisper, “Quietly, Tommy. Quietly.”
Tommy didn’t want to walk clompety-clompety, clomp, clomp.
He didn’t want to wake up his baby sister.
He didn’t want to make it hard for his father to hear his favorite television program.
He didn’t want to make a noise in Heavenly Father’s house.
Tommy didn’t want to disturb people with his clompy feet.
He really wanted to walk quietly. So one day after everyone had been saying, “Sh-h-h, Tommy! Sh-h-h!” Tommy said to himself, “I’m going to try very hard to walk quietly. I’m going to try to keep my feet from going clompety-clompety, clomp, clomp.”
And Tommy did try. He tried hard. He began to listen very carefully to his feet.
When Tommy came in from outside, his feet went clomp on the floor. Then Tommy said to himself, “I must walk quietly. I must not wake up baby sister.” And right then his feet did exactly what he told them to do.
When Tommy went into the chapel, his feet started up the steps with a big clomp. But then Tommy said to himself, “I must walk quietly when I enter Heavenly Father’s house.” And his feet did exactly what he told them to do.
Tommy kept trying to walk quietly. Instead of going clompety-clompety, clomp, clomp, his feet went clomp, clomp. Then they just went clomp. And one day they didn’t go clomp at all.
Tommy’s feet came in from outside so quietly that when Mother saw him standing by her in the kitchen, she said in surprise, “Tommy, I didn’t hear you come in. You must have pussycat feet!”
Daddy was watching his favorite television program that night when Tommy came in and sat down in his own small chair. Suddenly Daddy looked up and said, “Tommy, I didn’t hear you come in. You must have cushions on your shoes!”
One day Tommy’s Sunday School teacher said, “My, some of you children have noisy feet today. Your feet went clompety-clompety, clomp, clomp up the stairs and clomp, clomp, clomp down the hall and clomp into our classroom. We should all walk quietly in our Heavenly Father’s house.
“Tommy, you have very quiet feet. Would you please show the other boys and girls how to walk quietly?”
Tommy smiled a big happy smile, and as softly as a pussycat he showed the boys and girls how to walk quietly.
And after that Tommy never had any more trouble with noisy feet.

I recently gave my first talk in sacrament meeting. I had just read the article “An Example to Nonmember Friends” (Oct. 2010) and knew that I should use that as my topic. I liked that people shared experiences in their lives. It helped me understand more about being an example to those around me. One way I can stand as a witness is by magnifying my priesthood responsibilities. A few weeks ago a few other deacons in my ward and I went to a rest home. We take turns preparing and passing the sacrament with the other wards in our stake. While I was there I felt very peaceful and happy inside. I knew that I was doing what the Savior would have me do and would be doing Himself if He were there. I am thankful for the examples of others I read about in the magazine and hope I can also set a good example to those around me.
Spencer G., Utah

Recently, a friend of mine took his son on a trip down the Colorado River through Cataract Canyon, located in southeastern Utah. The canyon is famous for its 14 miles (23 km) of white-water rapids that can be particularly hazardous.
In preparation for their adventure, they had carefully reviewed the National Park Service website, which contains important information about personal preparedness and common, hidden hazards.
At the beginning of the trip, one of the experienced river guides reviewed important safety instructions, emphasizing three rules that would ensure the group’s safe travel through the rapids. “Rule number one: stay in the boat! Rule number two: always wear a life jacket! Rule number three: always hold on with both hands!” He then said again, with even more emphasis, “Above all, remember rule number one: stay in the boat!”
This adventure reminds me of our mortal journey. Most of us experience periods in our lives where the tranquil waters of life are appreciated. At other times, we encounter white-water rapids that are metaphorically comparable to those found in the 14-mile stretch through Cataract Canyon—challenges that may include physical and mental health issues, the death of a loved one, dashed dreams and hopes, and—for some—even a crisis of faith when faced with life’s problems, questions, and doubts.
The Lord in His goodness has provided help, including a boat, essential supplies such as life jackets, and experienced river guides who give guidance and safety instructions to help us make our way down the river of life to our final destination.
Let’s think about rule number one: stay in the boat!
President Brigham Young commonly employed “the Old Ship Zion” as a metaphor for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
He said on one occasion: “We are in the midst of the ocean. A storm comes on, and, as sailors say, she labors very hard. ‘I am not going to stay here,’ says one; ‘I don’t believe this is the “Ship Zion.”’ ‘But we are in the midst of the ocean.’ ‘I don’t care, I am not going to stay here.’ Off goes the coat, and he jumps overboard. Will he not be drowned? Yes. So with those who leave this Church. It is the ‘Old Ship Zion,’ let us stay in it.”
On another occasion, President Young said that he also worried about people losing their way when they were being blessed—when life was good: “It is in calm weather, when the old ship of Zion is sailing with a gentle breeze, [and] when all is quiet on deck, that some of the brethren want to go out in the whaling boats to have … a swim, and some get drowned, others drifted away, and others again get back to the ship. Let us stick to the old ship and she will carry us [safely] into the harbor; you need not be concerned.”
And finally, President Young reminded the Saints: “We are on the old ship Zion. … [God] is at the helm and will stay there. … All is right, sing Hallelujah, for the Lord is here. He dictates, guides and directs. If the people will have implicit confidence in their God, never forsake their covenants nor their God, He will guide us right.”
Given the challenges we all face today, how do we stay on the Old Ship Zion?
Here is how. We need to experience a continuing conversion by increasing our faith in Jesus Christ and our faithfulness to His gospel throughout our lives—not just once but regularly. Alma asked, “And now behold, I say unto you, my brethren [and sisters], if ye have experienced a change of heart, and if ye have felt to sing the song of redeeming love, I would ask, can ye feel so now?”
The experienced river guides today can be likened to the Church’s apostles and prophets and inspired local priesthood and auxiliary leaders. They help us arrive safely to our final destination.
Recently, I spoke at the new mission presidents’ seminar and counseled these leaders:
“Keep the eyes of the mission on the leaders of the Church. … We will not and … cannot lead [you] astray.
“And as you teach your missionaries to focus their eyes on us, teach them to never follow those who think they know more about how to administer the affairs of the Church than … Heavenly Father and the Lord Jesus Christ do” through the priesthood leaders who have the keys to preside.
“I have discovered in my ministry that those who have become lost [and] confused are typically those who have most often … forgotten that when the First Presidency and the Quorum of the Twelve speak with a united voice, it is the voice of the Lord for that time. The Lord reminds us, ‘Whether by mine own voice or by the voice of my servants, it is the same’ [D&C 1:38].”
In other words, they leave the Old Ship Zion—they fall away; they apostatize. Tragically, they often experience short-term and eventually long-term unintended consequences, not only for themselves but also for their families.
Our local Church leaders, like seasoned river guides, have been tutored by life’s experiences; have been trained and mentored by apostles and prophets and other officers of the Church; and, most important, have been tutored by the Lord Himself.
On another occasion this year, I spoke to the young adults of the Church in the May CES devotional broadcast. I said:
“I have heard that some people think the Church leaders live in a ‘bubble.’ What they forget is that we are men and women of experience, and we have lived our lives in so many places and worked with many people from different backgrounds. Our current assignments literally take us around the globe, where we meet the political, religious, business, and humanitarian leaders of the world. Although we have visited [leaders in] the White House in Washington, D.C., and leaders of nations [and religions] throughout the world, we have also visited the most humble [families and people] on earth. …
“When you thoughtfully consider our lives and ministry, you will most likely agree that we see and experience the world in ways few others do. You will realize that we live less in a ‘bubble’ than most people. …
“… There is something about the individual and combined wisdom of the [Church leaders] that should provide some comfort. We have experienced it all, including the consequences of different public laws and policies, disappointments, tragedies, and deaths in our own families. We are not out of touch with your lives.”
Along with rule number one as I’ve applied it, remember rules two and three: always wear a life jacket, and hold on with both hands. The words of the Lord are found in the scriptures and the teachings of the apostles and prophets. They provide us counsel and direction that, when followed, will act like a spiritual life jacket and will help us know how to hold on with both hands.
We need to become like the sons of Mosiah, who “waxed strong in the knowledge of the truth.” We can become men and women “of a sound understanding.” This can be accomplished only by our “search[ing] the scriptures diligently, that [we] might know the word of God.”
In searching the scriptures and the words of past and current apostles and prophets, we should focus on studying, living, and loving the doctrine of Christ.
In addition to developing the habit of personal scripture reading, we need to be like the sons of Mosiah and give ourselves “to much prayer, and fasting.”
It seems that these things which are not easily measured are of great importance. Stay focused on these simple things, and avoid becoming distracted.
As I have known people who have not stayed in the boat and have not held on with both hands during times of trials and troubles or who have not stayed in the boat during times of relative calm, I have observed that many of them have lost their focus on the central truths of the gospel—the reasons why they joined the Church in the first place; the reasons they remained fully committed and active in living gospel standards and blessing others through dedicated, consecrated service; and the ways in which the Church has been in their lives “a place of spiritual nourishment and growth.”
Joseph Smith taught this central truth: “The fundamental principles of our religion [are] the testimony of the apostles and prophets concerning Jesus Christ, … ‘that he died, was buried, and rose again the third day, and ascended up into heaven;’ and all other things are only appendages to these, which pertain to our religion.”
If we keep our focus on the Lord, we are promised a blessing beyond comparison: “Wherefore, ye must press forward with a steadfastness in Christ, having a perfect brightness of hope, and a love of God and of all men. Wherefore, if ye shall press forward, feasting upon the word of Christ, and endure to the end, behold, thus saith the Father: Ye shall have eternal life.”
Sometimes faithful Latter-day Saints and sincere investigators begin to focus on the “appendages” instead of on the fundamental principles. That is, Satan tempts us to become distracted from the simple and clear message of the restored gospel. Those so distracted often give up partaking of the sacrament because they have become focused, even preoccupied, with less important practices or teachings.
Others may focus on the questions and doubts they experience. Of course, having questions and experiencing doubts are not incongruent with dedicated discipleship. Recently, the Council of the First Presidency and the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles stated: “We understand that from time to time Church members will have questions about Church doctrine, history, or practice. Members are always free to ask such questions and earnestly seek greater understanding.”
Remember, Joseph Smith himself had questions that began the Restoration. He was a seeker and, like Abraham, found the answers to life’s most important questions.
The important questions focus on what matters most—Heavenly Father’s plan and the Savior’s Atonement. Our search should lead us to become kind, gentle, loving, forgiving, patient, and dedicated disciples. We must be willing, as Paul taught, to “bear ye one another’s burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ.”
To bear another’s burdens includes helping, supporting, and understanding everyone, including the sick, the infirm, the poor in spirit and body, the seeker and the troubled, and also other member-disciples—including Church leaders who have been called by the Lord to serve for a season.
Brothers and sisters, stay in the boat, use your life jackets, and hold on with both hands. Avoid distractions! And if any one of you have fallen out of the boat, we will seek you, find you, minister to you, and pull you safely back onto the Old Ship Zion, where God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ are at the helm and will guide us right, to which I humbly testify in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Tamika nodded. “Tell me about when Grammy Rose escaped.” Tomorrow they were visiting a place where her great-grandma Rose might have stayed, and she wanted to hear the story again.
“Again?” Gram laughed. “All right. That’s one of my favorites too.” She leaned back and got comfortable.
“Your great-grandma Rose lived on a big farm called a plantation with her mama and daddy. They were slaves, and they wanted to be free,” Gram said. “One day, Rose’s mama died of a fever. Her daddy decided it was time to escape with Rose.”
Gram’s fingers traced lines along the quilt as she talked, like she was tracing a map of the journey.
“They left at night and followed the North Star. It’s part of a constellation called the Big Dipper,” Gram said. “Back then, slaves called it the Drinking Gourd.”
“What’s a gourd?” Tamika asked.
“It’s like a squash. Slaves would use hollowed-out gourds as spoons to scoop water from buckets to drink,” Gram said. “Rose and her daddy followed the Drinking Gourd north. People from the Underground Railroad helped them along the way.”
Tamika nodded. She knew that the Underground Railroad wasn’t really a railroad. It was a name for the people who helped slaves escape to safety. Tomorrow Tamika and her mom were going to a house called Slave Haven, where some of the slaves hid on their journey north.
“But we don’t know for sure if Grammy Rose stayed in Slave Haven,” Tamika said.
Gram looked thoughtful. “That’s right. Rose couldn’t write, so we don’t know the exact places she stayed,” Gram said. “But when I was a girl, Rose told me her story, and I wrote it in my journal.”
As Mama tucked the blankets around Tamika, Gram told her one more thing about Rose.
“Grammy Rose always said that miracles from God brought her safely north. That taught me to look for miracles every day,” Gram said. “Like warm sunshine.”

A number of years ago, while laboring in the Palestine-Syrian Mission, I was called to serve as the second counselor in the mission presidency. After I was sustained by the members, President Alma Sonne of the European Mission set me apart for the new calling. In doing so, he pronounced a most memorable blessing, one that I shall never forget.
At the conclusion of the blessing, I thanked Elder Sonne for the beautiful and inspiring words that he had spoken. He graciously accepted my expression of gratitude; however, he placed his hand upon my shoulder, looked intently into my eyes, and said, “Elder Asay, I had the power and right to say what I said, but remember, you will write your own blessing by the way you live and serve.” Then he added, “Go and write the best blessing that has ever been written.”

On Church assignment in Hawaii, Sister Wirthlin and I visited the island of Molokai. As we walked back to our car after laboring up a trail in the mountains, we came upon a young man headed toward the overlook. I offered a polite greeting. From his answer, I could tell he was from Germany.
His countenance bespoke a sincere heart and an approachable personality. I spoke his language and understood his culture, having served a German-speaking mission. The Spirit prompted me to introduce the gospel to him. However, due to other people around us, our brief encounter was interrupted without my having said a word about the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. I failed to be the missionary that every member of the Savior’s Church ought to be.
As we drove away, I had the disturbing feeling that I had failed in my duty to proclaim the gospel. I was troubled while we drove around the island to see Molokai’s beautiful waterfalls. As we got out of our car, another car drove up and stopped. The young man we had seen earlier stepped out, smiled, and gave me a warm handshake. As I grasped his outstretched hand, I thought to myself, This time I will do my duty.
We introduced ourselves and I learned he was a university student in a small city south of Dusseldorf, Germany. We spoke of my fond memories of Germany, and of my admiration for the German people. Speaking of my work in Europe gave me an ideal opportunity to explain some of the basics of the gospel. As we parted, I asked for his address and telephone number, which he gladly shared. I felt he was truly a newfound friend.
Upon my return to Salt Lake City, I wrote to the Germany-Dusseldorf Mission and asked President John F. Charles to send missionaries to continue the gospel discussion. I don’t believe my wife and I met this young man twice by coincidence.
But the Lord doesn’t always give us a second chance to share the gospel. I failed to follow the Spirit the first time the still, small voice unmistakably spoke to my heart and mind.
We must act when the Spirit speaks. When I did, the young man responded positively to my message. It wasn’t really my message. It was God’s, brought to my mind by the Spirit of the Lord. I was but an instrument in the Lord’s hands.

One time when Joseph Smith was in grave danger and had bodyguards to protect him so that he could get his work done and could rest at night, he stayed in a friend’s log house. That evening he heard a little boy praying in the room next to his. He was pleading with the Lord to protect Joseph from the mob. When the boy’s prayer was over, Joseph turned to his bodyguards and told them all to go to bed and not worry about him, because the boy’s prayer had been heard and answered.