Gospel Story Finder

“I feel afraid sometimes, too,” Papa said.
Surprised, Maria looked up into her father’s eyes. “I didn’t think papas ever felt afraid.”
“Yes, we do. Today I felt afraid when the other doctors at the hospital were explaining some very technical procedures and I did not understand all their words.”
Maria asked, “What did you do?”
“I talked to my special friend,” Papa said.
“I didn’t know you had a friend here, Papa.”
“He was my special friend in Mexico, too,” her father replied.
Maria was puzzled.
Papa smiled and said, “My special friend, Maria, is Padre Celestial (Heavenly Father).”
“You knelt at the hospital and prayed to Heavenly Father?”
“We cannot always kneel when we need Heavenly Father’s help, but He hears prayers offered from our hearts too.”
“How did Heavenly Father help you today?” Maria asked.
“He sent peace to my heart so that there was no room left for fear. Then I could concentrate on what was being said instead of my fear. That helped me to understand what the doctors were saying.”

The group also delivered 10 desktop computers and a new laptop and monitor to the Seventh-day Adventist Church-run Kauma High School. The computer lab at Kauma High School had earlier been destroyed by fire.
Elder Tune and President Kendall expected to drop the computers off at the door of the school but were delighted to find that the entire student body was gathered to express their sincere thanks. The students further gladdened the visitors’ hearts by singing in their beautiful harmonic voices “Joy, Joy, My Heart is Full of Joy”.
“The feeling there was so powerful, it was almost overwhelming,” Elder Tune said. “We felt so much love and yes, we felt hearts full of joy.
“The Kauma High School principal, Tekemau Ribabaiti, is a wonderful, energetic man who is 78 years of age and still contributing so much. He was thankful for the computers, but even more so, he was touched that we would come so far to visit.”
Principal Ribabaiti told his students, “These people come with their hearts. We can feel their love. We are grateful for the computers, but we are more grateful for their hearts.”

The first time I renewed my temple recommend the member of the stake presidency who interviewed me was Val R. Christensen, now president of the Rexburg Temple. In the interview he asked me: "What have you done during the past year that makes you more qualified today than you were a year ago for a temple recommend?" Startled by this unexpected question I quickly reviewed the past year to determine if I had improved my life during the previous twelve months.
That interview became a defining moment for me; every time I have renewed my recommend since I pause to reflect on my life and am prepared to answer President Christensen's question (even though no priesthood leader has ever asked me again) because I know the Lord wants to know if I am living the kind of life that will qualify me to follow the bridal party. And I truly desire to make my life a journey toward discipleship, my lamp trimmed and burning brightly when the Lord returns.

As missionaries we have only so much spare time during our days, so I am gladly foregoing my dinner this evening to have enough time to write and thank you for the December New Era. Many times a missionary tends to feel that he is left out in right field while all the excitement and activities go on without him, even though he understands his special calling and is working to magnify it. These times often come during special family events, the changing of the seasons, and especially during the winter holidays such as Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s Eve. With Christmas coming I found myself in such a state. When I received the December New Era and glanced through it, I felt more left out than even at first. But then I read the articles “The Spirit of Christmas” by Elder Thomas S. Monson and “Give Yourself Away” by Laurie Sowby. These special articles truly brought a great uplifting surge of enthusiasm to my spirit. It was sort of like getting into a spiritual elevator. At once all those negative feelings left, and I realized that I could really participate in the spirit of Christmas by giving myself away more and giving to people the best gift of all, the gospel of Jesus Christ. After that things really started to happen. Each day brought a special Christmas spirit. We are now helping a wonderful family to prepare for baptism as one of their Christmas presents. This has turned out to be one of the most wonderful Christmases that I have ever experienced. I’m sure that you were inspired to put those two very special articles in the December issue.
Elder Julius C. Blackwelder, IICalifornia Oakland Mission

One summer morning Elizabeth saw a big moving van pull up in front of the house next door. New neighbors! Wouldn’t it be fun if the new family had a girl close to her own age?
Later that day, while Elizabeth was playing croquet by herself in the front yard, she saw a car drive up next door. A man and woman got out of the car. And then a girl with bright red hair got out. She looked just the right age! Elizabeth ran over to meet her.
The new girl’s name was Becky. Elizabeth smiled at her. Becky smiled back.
“I’m playing croquet,” Elizabeth said. “Do you want to play?”
“I’ve never played it before …” Becky said shyly.
Elizabeth smiled and held out a croquet ball. “Want to learn?”
Becky nodded and ran over to play.
From then on Elizabeth and Becky were always together. During the day they played and ate snacks in their clubhouse. At night they sat by their bedroom windows and yelled to each other so they could keep talking.
One night as the girls were yelling back and forth, Elizabeth’s older brother stopped by her room. “You know what you two need?” he said. “Soup-can phones.”
“What are those?” Elizabeth asked.
“All you do is connect two cans with some string. You run the string between your windows. And then you won’t have to yell.” He promised to help set it all up tomorrow.
The next night Elizabeth and Becky had their first soup–can phone conversation.
The rest of the summer was filled with playing tennis, picnicking in the park, roller-skating, and playing more croquet. And of course, every night they talked using their soup cans.
All too soon summer turned to fall. With homework and dancing lessons (for Elizabeth) and swimming lessons (for Becky), they didn’t see each other as much as they had during the summer. But almost every night, they sat by their windows and talked using their soup-can phones.
They talked about lots of things. If Elizabeth had a hard day at school, she told Becky about it. And if Becky had good news to share, she always told Elizabeth.
One day Becky left for her grandma’s funeral. She didn’t know how long she’d be gone.
“I’ll miss you,” Elizabeth said.
Becky nodded and hugged her goodbye.
That night, after saying her prayer and getting in bed, Elizabeth couldn’t sleep. She missed talking with her friend.
A thought came to her: Why not pray? But she prayed every night before going to bed. And besides, she had already said her prayer tonight.
But the thought came again: Pray. Pray as if you’re really talking with Heavenly Father.
And so she got on her knees again and prayed. Only this time she didn’t just repeat what she usually said. This time she really talked about how she felt about things—small things and big things.
Prayer isn’t just a bunch of words you say, Elizabeth thought as she climbed back in bed. Prayer could be like a real conversation—like her soup-can conversations with Becky.
In her prayers Elizabeth started talking about things that had happened to her earlier in the day. She talked about her problems and her feelings. She felt like she’d found another friend.
Elizabeth was glad when Becky finally came home. That night they had their usual soup–can phone conversation. And later, just before she went to bed, Elizabeth had another special conversation—with her Heavenly Father.

In the words of Elder M. Russell Ballard, “Oftentimes we are like the young merchant from Boston, who … was caught up in the fervor of the California gold rush. He sold all of his possessions to seek his fortune in the California rivers, which he was told were filled with gold nuggets so big that one could hardly carry them.
“Day after endless day, the young man dipped his pan into the river and came up empty. His only reward was a growing pile of rocks. Discouraged and broke, he was ready to quit until one day an old, experienced prospector said to him, ‘That’s quite a pile of rocks you are getting there, my boy.’
“The young man replied, ‘There’s no gold here. I’m going back home.’
“Walking over to the pile of rocks, the old prospector said, ‘Oh, there is gold all right. You just have to know where to find it.’ He picked two rocks up in his hands and crashed them together. One of the rocks split open, revealing several flecks of gold sparkling in the sunlight.
“Noticing a bulging leather pouch fastened to the prospector’s waist, the young man said, ‘I’m looking for nuggets like the ones in your pouch, not just tiny flecks.
“The old prospector extended his pouch toward the young man, who looked inside, expecting to see several large nuggets. He was stunned to see that the pouch was filled with thousands of flecks of gold.
“The old prospector said, ‘Son, it seems to me you are so busy looking for large nuggets that you’re missing filling your pouch with these precious flecks of gold. The patient accumulation of these little flecks has brought me great wealth.’”2

Today it was raining, and I had nothing to do. My friend came to play with me. “Let’s build things with blocks,” she said.
I built a brown rocket ship that would fly to the moon. She built a red house with windows and doors that would open.
“My rocket ship can fly up to the moon,” I said. “When it blasts off, it might make a terrible noise that could break your house.”
“Please don’t break my house,” my friend said. “The mother is cooking blueberry pancakes, and all the children love blueberry pancakes. They would never get to eat them.”
“OK,” I said. “I’ll make something else, instead.”
I built a yellow backhoe with a long shovel tail. She built a little yard with trees and a white picket fence around her house.
“My backhoe could plow up a garden in your backyard,” I offered.
“Oh, that would be wonderful,” she said. “Then birds could find more worms for their babies and we could plant flowers and vegetables.”
“All right!” I said. “I’ll build something else too.”
I built a blue robot holding a big purple box. She built a blue school with desks for children to sit at.
“My robot has a big box,” I said. “It has lots of books and paper and pencils in it.”
“Oh, could she teach in my school?” she asked. “The children want to learn to spell cat.”
“I can spell cat,” I said. “C-a-t.”
“I know,” she said. “All the children in my school need to learn to spell like you can, and to read and to count.”
“Good,” I said. “My robot will help teach in your school while I build something else.”
I built a dinosaur with orange eyes and a green nose and a gray tail. She built a pink candy store. It had real black licorice sticks and red lollipops inside.
“My dinosaur is very hungry,” I said. “It’s going to eat up all the candy in your store.”
“Please don’t let it do that,” she said. “Then there would be no lollipops for all the good children.”
“Am I a good children?” I asked.
“You are a very good child,” she said.
I changed my dinosaur into a tiny mouse, then ran to give my friend a giant hug. “May I have one of your lollipops, Grandma?”
And she gave me one.

However, when I became a young adult, I was faced with more temptation and put in a more spiritually stale environment than I had ever been in before.
In South Korea, young adult men are required to serve in the military for a few years. When I was in the middle of my military service after serving my mission, I felt more alone in my faith than ever—for many reasons.
For one, it was hard being separated from other Church members and my family, but another difficulty was being surrounded by things that go against our standards. For example, alcohol is everywhere in South Korea, especially in the military. After drills it was common for everyone to meet to drink together. When they found out I didn’t drink alcohol, they did whatever they could to force me to. In their eyes, I wasn’t just sticking to my values—I was going against culture.
Unfortunately, it was also common for my fellow soldiers to talk about women in a worldly and sexualized way that made me feel uncomfortable. It was a challenge to hear their bad language every day. Additionally, I couldn’t attend church, partake of the sacrament, attend the temple, or do much of anything gospel related during this time.
For a while, I felt so alone and wondered what I could do to feel the Spirit and keep my faith strong. How could I stand in holy places when I didn’t have a choice to?
After a while of struggling, I decided that I needed to take responsibility for feeling the Spirit, even in a worldly environment. One thing that helped me was bringing my scriptures I used on my mission along with me during my service. It truly is the little habits we do each day—reading our scriptures, praying, and looking for opportunities to serve and be more like the Savior—that keep us connected to the Spirit.
One day I came across 1 Corinthians 10:13, which says, “God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it.”
While reading that scripture, I realized that even though I felt alone, Heavenly Father was with me. If I continued to reach out to Him and my Savior, They would help me find a way to faithfully endure my military service and come home with a testimony stronger than before.
The scriptures became a lifeline for me during this time when I was disconnected from church and other members. Talking to Heavenly Father each day and reading my scriptures kept me connected to Him and reminded me of my divine identity, which was another key to surviving spiritually.
Remembering that I am a beloved child of heavenly parents kept my foundation of faith strong, especially when I was faced with temptation.
When I finished my military service, I prioritized spiritual habits more than ever. Being able to attend the temple, partake of the sacrament, and be fully invested in the gospel was such a contrast to the environment I had been in for the previous two years. I now feel the fulness of the blessings, comfort, and joy that the gospel of Jesus Christ offers us. And I’m glad I remained faithful until this was possible.

His invitation stuck with me, and ever since then, I have been seeking to know for myself. I have been trying to know—really know—that President Nelson is God’s prophet here on the earth.
And let me tell you, it has been quite the journey.
Study and prayer have played a big role in this process. For example, I decided to read all of President Nelson’s general conference talks since he became a General Authority (there are a lot of them). I also studied all the devotional addresses he has given to young adults, university students, and other audiences. This helped me know more about President Nelson and what is important to him.
I also searched the scriptures for guidance. One verse that stuck out was Matthew 7:16, where Christ gives us the ultimate way to discern whether someone is His prophet: “Ye shall know them by their fruits.”
When I read this, I realized that the best way to know if President Nelson is a prophet is to follow his teachings and then watch for the fruits. I decided to study each general conference talk President Nelson has given since becoming the prophet and identify at least one thing in each talk that he has asked us to do. Here are just a few examples:
October 2020: “As you study your scriptures during the next six months, I encourage you to make a list of all that the Lord has promised He will do for covenant Israel. … Ponder these promises. Talk about them with your family and friends. Then live and watch for these promises to be fulfilled in your own life.” 1
April 2020: “Let us fast, pray, and unite our faith once again. Let us prayerfully plead for relief from this global pandemic.” 2
October 2019: “I entreat you to study prayerfully all the truths you can find about priesthood power. … As your understanding increases and as you exercise faith in the Lord and His priesthood power, your ability to draw upon this spiritual treasure that the Lord has made available will increase.” 3
April 2019: “Identify what stops you from repenting. And then, change! Repent!” 4
October 2018: “I promise you that if we will do our best to restore the correct name of the Lord’s Church, He whose Church this is will pour down His power and blessings upon the heads of the Latter-day Saints, the likes of which we have never seen.” 5
April 2018: “I plead with you to increase your spiritual capacity to receive revelation.” 6
As I reviewed these invitations from President Nelson, I realized that I didn’t take all of them seriously when I first heard them. In some cases, I had even forgotten the invitation altogether. I resolved to do better and set specific goals for myself to follow President Nelson’s counsel.
As a result, I have experienced many fruits. I feel an extra measure of priesthood power; I feel closer to my family; and I feel closer to my Savior, Jesus Christ. I am definitely not perfect and still have a long way to go in following all of President Nelson’s counsel, but my efforts thus far have only made my life better.
In order to understand the answers I’ve received, it has been useful for me to study teachings about personal revelation from Elder David A. Bednar of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. He likens the first pattern of revelation to a light switch, which allows light to flood a room immediately. Similarly, revelation can come suddenly, in one moment. And the second pattern of revelation he likens to a sunrise, in which the light comes more gradually and steadily. 7
For me, as I’ve been studying President Nelson and his teachings, I have noticed the sun rising gradually.
As I’ve studied, as I’ve prayed, and as I’ve done what President Nelson has asked me to do, my faith has grown “line upon line, precept upon precept” (see 2 Nephi 28:30). I may not have experienced a light-switch moment of revelation, but as a result of my praying and studying, I can truly say that I have faith that President Nelson is the Lord’s prophet here on the earth.
Finding answers to our questions will take work on our part, but I know that all of us can receive a personal witness of President Nelson’s divine calling and answers to any other questions we might have about the gospel.
Throughout this experience, I have learned and gained so much faith. And I am forever grateful that the Lord has blessed us with modern prophets on the earth. I know that if we hearken unto their words, great blessings are in store for both us and our families.

In the Philippines, I visited a little branch in a lonely outpost. The members met in a tiny house elevated off the ground on stilts. An older woman indicated she was the mother and grandmother of most of those present in that little classroom.

Propped on a table and leaning against the wall was a blackboard on which she had neatly printed the main points of the lesson. Afterward, she told me the greatest thing she could do for her family and others was to teach. Over and over, she said to me, “I love my family. I teach them.”

President Monson tells the story of a retired executive named Ed who lived the example of a quorum member. On one occasion President Monson was speaking with Ed and asked him, “‘Ed, what are you doing in the Church?’ He replied, ‘I have the best assignment in the ward. My responsibility is to help men who are unemployed find permanent employment. This year I have helped 12 of my brethren who were out of work to obtain good jobs. I have never been happier in my entire life.’” President Monson continues, “Short in stature, ‘Little Ed,’ as we affectionately called him, stood tall that evening as his eyes glistened and his voice quavered. He showed his love by helping those in need. He restored human dignity. He opened doors for those who knew not how to do so themselves.”2

I recall the time I approached baptism, when I was eight years of age. My mother talked with me about repentance and about the meaning of baptism; and then, on a Saturday in September of 1935, she took me on a streetcar to the Tabernacle baptistry which, until recently, was here in this building. At the time it was not as customary as it is now for fathers to baptize their children, since the ordinance was generally performed on a Saturday morning or afternoon, and many fathers were working at their daily professions or trades. I dressed in white and was baptized. I remember that day as though it were yesterday and the happiness I felt at having had this ordinance performed.
Over the years and particularly during the time I served as a bishop, I witnessed many other baptisms in the Tabernacle font. Each was a special and inspiring occasion, and each served to remind me of my own baptism.

Achy Djite Angenor is an investment assistant at China Harbour Engineering Company Limited (CHEC).
When I returned from my mission, I set goals for myself to be self-reliant, however, things did not go the way I expected. I hunted for a job for two months without success. At a point I got lost, but somehow, I had the impression to speak with a Church leader. He counselled me to visit the WSRS [Welfare and Self-Reliance Services] manager and to learn of the WSRS tools.
I spoke with Koffi Priva, one of the WSRS managers. I received training and coaching from him. I served in his department as a volunteer while at the same time pursuing my job search. My efforts paid off when after about two months I received calls from organizations to attend job interviews. I received four job offers and I had to settle on one. I am now employed with China Harbour Engineering Company as an investment assistant.
My next goal is to improve myself through career development and to stay competitive.
I recommend the WSRS initiative to every returned missionary.
I know with faith and determination that one can tame the elements and win the prize.

My angel mother, Jasmine Bennion Arnold, clearly understood her role to help in the rescue of our Heavenly Father’s wounded or lost sheep, including her own children and grandchildren. What a marvelous role grandparents can play in the lives of their grandchildren.

Mom was usually assigned to visit teach those struggling with their faith, the less-active and part-member families; however, her flock included several others that no one had assigned her to visit. Generally her visits were not just once a month, as she quietly listened, ministered to the sick, and gave loving encouragement. The last several months of Mom’s life, she was homebound, so she spent hours writing them letters, expressing her love, bearing her testimony, and lifting those who came to visit.

When he was a boy, it was often Spencer’s duty to ride atop the hay wagon, tramping down the hay as his older brothers pitched the hay up. It was hot, dusty, scratchy work, but he did it—except when the church bell rang to signal the beginning of Primary, which at that time was held during the week. He had a perfect attendance record and was not going to miss. His brothers had other ideas and began pitching the hay onto the wagon even faster. When they noticed the hay was piling up, Spencer was halfway to Primary. Spencer W. Kimball went on to serve as a missionary, a bishop, and a stake president before his call to the apostleship in 1943. His work ethic was legendary, despite a number of serious illnesses that included a heart attack and throat cancer. He urged Church members to lengthen their stride, and his personal motto was simply “Do it.” Because of his health, some thought Spencer W. Kimball’s administration as President of the Church might be brief. But he presided over the Church for 12 years, during which time the number of operating temples doubled, the number of missionaries increased 50 percent, and the priesthood was extended to all worthy male members.

I was 16 and playing my new rock-and-roll album for the first time. Unfortunately, as I listened, I was disappointed to hear a vulgar word in the last song. I was embarrassed. I knew my parents would not approve—the record didn’t meet our family’s standards. But I liked the rest of the songs, so whenever I played the record, I turned down the volume just before the offensive word was sung.
My well-meaning sister told my father about my album. Later, when he and I were in the dining room, he shared his concern about the inappropriate word. Although his comment was said in a kind manner, I dug in and stubbornly defended my position.
I used every argument I could think of to convince my dad that I should keep the record. “I didn’t know that word was on the album when I bought it,” I said, “and when that song plays, I turn it down.”
When he said I should still get rid of the record, I said, “If you think that, then I should quit school too! I hear that word—and worse ones—every day at school!”
He began to get frustrated. He reemphasized that we shouldn’t have vulgar music in our home. The argument escalated as I said there were worse sins I could commit and that I never used that word.
I tried to turn the tables: “I try so hard to be good, and then you focus on this one little thing and think I’m an evil sinner!”
Even so, my father wouldn’t back down. Neither would I. I marched upstairs to my room, slammed the door, and lay on my bed, seething. I rehearsed my argument over and over in my head, entrenching myself deeper in my flawed logic and convincing myself I was right.
Ten minutes later, there was a soft knock at the door. It was Dad. His countenance had changed. He wasn’t there to argue. “I’m sorry I got angry,” he said. “Will you forgive me?” He told me how much he loved me and that he thought highly of me. He didn’t preach. He didn’t give me counsel. Then he turned and quietly left the room.
A thousand sermons on humility could never have been more powerful to me. I was no longer angry with him, just with myself for being so stubborn and difficult. I fetched the record, snapped it in two, and threw it away. I don’t know if I ever told Dad what I did, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was that I had learned that my dad valued our relationship more than his own pride, even when he had been in the right.

I was converted to the gospel when I was very young. Throughout my youth, I held different Church callings, and it is impossible to describe the joy I received from them. But one of the most remarkable experiences I had as a young person came the week before my mission.

I turned in my mission papers in January 1976. After some time, which seemed very long to me, I received a letter calling me to serve in the México Monterrey Mission.

Because my stake president was about to be released, he set me apart a week before I was to leave for my mission. He cautioned me about how I would need to live now that I had been set apart, but we agreed that I would continue at my job for one more week—as I had planned. I wanted to continue working as long as possible to earn more money for my mission and to help my family. As I left the stake president’s home on the Sunday evening I was set apart, I felt a beautiful warmth fill my entire body.

The next morning I got up to go to work as usual. As I entered the office building where I worked, I greeted the elevator operator and told him which floor I wanted. The operator did not answer but just stared at me. Then the owners of my company got on the elevator, and we greeted each other. After the elevator doors closed, I noticed my bosses were staring at me too. They asked me what had happened. I answered that nothing had happened.

When I walked into the department where I worked, my coworkers stopped talking and looked at me. I still could not understand why.

Later that day my bosses called me into their office. They asked me to recommend someone responsible to take my place. Then they asked why I seemed so different. I told them about my religion and my mission. They congratulated me and refused to accept my resignation. They said they would instead allow me to take leave for a year and a half so I wouldn’t lose my job benefits. And they asked me to return to work as soon as I finished my mission.

As I looked at my coworkers on my last day of work, I realized how much I loved them, even though their standards were very different from mine. María, who worked near me, asked, “What is happening to you? Why are you so different?” She said she could see a light in my countenance. “Why is that?” she asked.

Finally I began to understand the importance of missionary work from a new perspective. I had been called as a servant of the Lord, and the influence of the Holy Ghost was shining through me.

I am grateful to our Heavenly Father for that week of preparation before my mission. I am also grateful for my coworkers. They strengthened my testimony of the gospel by letting me see the importance of my calling through their eyes.

A few years ago I was in a Salt Lake hospital emergency room with my sons and a neighbor boy—the result of a backyard touch football game.
While we waited in the emergency room for the doctor to put one of the participants back together, we saw a young lady brought into the hospital. She may have been 17—tall, willowy, well dressed, and having a wild reaction to an overdose of drugs. While we watched, she collapsed, and I thought, There is no way this young woman can survive this experience.
I wondered how she had come to this sad situation in her life. Had she not heard the words of the prophets? Had she heard them and laughed as if their words were the warnings of men out of touch with the realities of a modern world? Had one of us been negligent in our opportunities to teach her? Had her parents known the truth but not been willing or able to help her understand?
While waiting in that hospital thinking, pondering, and praying for her, I recalled a principle the Lord teaches us in the 89th section of the Doctrine and Covenants. It is found in the fourth verse:
“Behold, verily, thus saith the Lord unto you: In consequence of evils and designs which do and will exist in the hearts of conspiring men in the last days, I have warned you, and forewarn you, by giving unto you this word of wisdom by revelation” (D&C 89:4).
Consider carefully the principle: “I have warned you, and forewarn you, … by revelation.”
We in this church stand before the world, in all humility and sincerity, and declare that Joseph Smith Jr. was raised up by the Lord Jesus Christ and appointed to be the mortal instrument through which the doctrines, powers, keys, priesthood, and ordinances were restored to the earth. Since that day there has been a continual flow of revelation through those who have followed as the Lord’s appointed Apostles and prophets.
Today we sustain Gordon B. Hinckley as the President of the Church, as the prophet, seer, and revelator, and as the only one who possesses and is authorized to exercise all priesthood keys. We also sustain the First Presidency and the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles as prophets, seers, and revelators. Before he became the President of the Church, President Hinckley sat for many years as one of those men who hold this sacred revelatory power. He whom the Lord has called and we have sustained is not a novice in the principles, process, and practice of receiving divine direction.
There is a question that each of us must deal with in a most solemn and serious way if our lives are to be what the Father of us all would have them be. “What is our response when the living prophets declare the mind and will of the Lord?” This is the test of mankind in every dispensation.
I sat in this tabernacle some years ago as President Joseph Fielding Smith stood at this pulpit. It was the general priesthood meeting, the last general conference before President Smith passed away. He said: “There is one thing which we should have exceedingly clear in our minds. Neither the President of the Church, nor the First Presidency, nor the united voice of the First Presidency and the Twelve will ever lead the Saints astray or send forth counsel to the world that is contrary to the mind and will of the Lord.”
There came to me that evening a witness of the Spirit that he spoke the truth. I felt an overwhelming sense of peace and assurance that the Lord loved us and would not leave us without direction.
President J. Reuben Clark Jr. drew a very important distinction concerning revelation from the Lord:
“Some of the General Authorities have had assigned to them a special calling; they possess a special gift; they are sustained as prophets, seers, and revelators, which gives them a special spiritual endowment in connection with their teaching of the people. They have the right, the power, and authority to declare the mind and will of God to his people, subject to the over-all power and authority of the President of the Church.”
President Clark continues: “Others of the General Authorities are not given this special spiritual endowment and authority covering their teaching; they have a resulting limitation, and the resulting limitation upon their power and authority in teaching applies to every other officer and member of the Church, for none of them is spiritually endowed as a prophet, seer, and revelator.”
I emphasize that the rest of us do not have that specific power and authority. The Seventy have an endowment that is uniquely theirs; temple presidents and matrons, stake presidents and bishops, as well as fathers and mothers, have an endowment that is uniquely theirs; but none of us has the power, authority, or responsibility that is given to the First Presidency and the Twelve.
One’s intentions may be of the purest kind. The sincerity may be total and complete. Nevertheless, pure intentions and heartfelt sincerity do not give members of the Church authority to declare doctrine which is not sustained by the living prophets. While we are members of the Church, we are not authorized to publicly declare our speculations as doctrine nor to extend doctrinal positions to other conclusions based upon the reasoning of men and women, even by the brightest and most well-read among us.
The prophets are not only called to receive the doctrine and direct the ordinances through the keys they hold. They are also responsible to keep the saving doctrine pure so that people can hear and feel that doctrine in its sure and certain form.
Surrounded as we are by worldly influences, how can we maintain a sweetness of spirit and a humility that will make us receptive to such counsel? I fear that we have become so enamored with recreation, with fame and fortune, with videos, with television, and with what money can buy that we have little time for eternal things. Yet to obtain a knowledge of the doctrines of eternity requires sacrifice, effort, and struggle. Furthermore, we have learned to live in a world of clamor and noise and haste and hurry to the extent that we have often become immune to the Spirit of the Lord and the “peaceable things of the kingdom” (D&C 36:2).
How do we prepare ourselves to be in harmony with the First Presidency and the Council of the Twelve?
On one occasion during the Savior’s mortal ministry, he was challenged by those who were opposing him. They wondered how a person could speak with such certainty without the education of the world.
“Jesus answered them, and said, My doctrine is not mine, but his that sent me.
“If any man will do his will, he shall know of the doctrine, whether it be of God, or whether I speak of myself” (John 7:16–17; emphasis added).
We must learn the will of our Father in Heaven by earnest study. Next, we must act upon it. Study alone is not sufficient; we must act upon the words of revelation before we know of a surety of the truthfulness of the doctrines.
In all solemnity and soberness I state that God has made known to me in an unmistakable way that he has called and he sustains those who are the living prophets, seers, and revelators. The Lord God of Israel will direct them, and they will not lead us astray.
We do not need greater prophets. We need listening ears. We need hearts that are sufficiently pure that we can feel their words. We need souls that will commit to the keeping of our covenants.
My prayer is that each of us may have that watershed experience of life of having the Spirit carry with power—even fire—to our souls the assurance that we are being directed by His appointed servants.

On May 22, 2022, my husband, Roger, was in an accident on his way to church. He was riding his motorbike when a driver failed to see him. He was life-flighted to Oregon Health Sciences University where surgeons worked for 11 hours just to stabilize him. Amazingly, he survived. They added 71 pieces of metal to his body to reattach some of his 24 broken bones. His brain and vital organs were miraculously unharmed. We are very aware that others are not always as fortunate and feel grateful. It has been a long road of patience and learning with 11 surgeries slowly transitioning from the hospital to a care home, to home health, to outpatient visits; and from a bed to a wheelchair, to a walker, to a cane, to walking. He wanted to be here today, but he was able to return to work last week.

Thankfully, my husband’s accident is not the first major trial in his life or mine. We had lots of experiences prior to that day. One of the more difficult trials I experienced went on for an extended period. I was told that the experience was to teach me to trust the Lord.

As I went through that trial, I was not particularly grateful it was happening, but in hindsight, I can see the growth that resulted from it. As I watched the helicopter lift off with my injured husband inside, I was very grateful for the lessons of that earlier trial. I was starting this trial already acquainted with a Savior who I knew would help and whom I could trust no matter the outcome.

This trust was key as the news came first that his leg might be amputated (it wasn’t), that his left arm might never work again (it didn’t for a month or so, but now it does), that he might never regain the use of his hands and leg well enough to return to work (and now he has done that too).

Another key to navigating this trial came from the blessings of family, friends, neighbors, and our ward family. Our eldest daughter, Lindsay, came home for two weeks to help and then, seeing that this was going to be a situation that was slow to find resolution, she dropped out of school for the term and came home to serve. She was a tremendous support that summer emotionally for our family and in watching our youngest son, Abraham, so I could visit Roger daily.

People contributed funds to help our family. They brought food. They did service around our home and provided enjoyable play dates for Abraham. They built a ramp to our front door so Roger would be able to get a wheelchair into our home. People of our faith and friends and neighbors of other faiths prayed for my husband. We were so blessed at the hands and hearts of many.

Once Roger was home and off many of the medications, the concerns of the situation came into better focus for him. He would struggle to sleep at night because of concerns about providing for our family and worries from the day. He initially handled this by listening to many conference talks. He thinks he listened to more talks in the past year and learned more from them than in the previous 60 years of his life. These spiritual beacons helped him find peace.

A good friend of mine recommended he begin journaling so he could let go of his concerns and sleep. This sounded like a great idea in principle, but with two broken hands, it wasn’t terribly practical. We decided instead that we would journal together each night. I acted as scribe and we would share the blessings of the day, the questions of the day, and our needs. This was a wonderful blessing for us. Some days the blessing list was long; some days we struggled to come up with blessings. But we’ve tried it and will likely continue to count blessings together and express our questions and needs to each other for the rest of our lives. It is a wonderful way to see the blessings and communicate with each other. It is also great preparation to know what we should include in our evening prayers.

A young mother was running late to a very important meeting one time. As she dashed from her bedroom, her little three-year-old stopped her and said, “Mommy. Mom.”

To which the mother replied, “Can’t you see I’m busy?”

“Mom, I need to tell you something.”

“Not now,” said the mother with an impatient wave of her hand.

“Mom,” began the little girl again.

“Oh, what is it?” said the mother.

“I just wanted to tell you I love you!”