Gospel Story Finder

At the time, there were only two Aaronic Priesthood bearers in the Immokalee Branch: Junior and another young man named Jorge Caceres. Jorge was born in the Church but had become discouraged because for a long time he had been the only Aaronic Priesthood bearer in the branch. So Junior, a convert, was the only one who went to stake firesides.
Today there are 26 active young men in the branch—and one of them is Jorge Caceres, the one who had previously been discouraged about having no other young men with whom to associate.
“I became friends with Junior, too,” Jorge says, “Then when he started inviting his friends to church, I became friends with them. Every week new people kept coming.”
And Jorge noticed something. “Once they started getting to know the Church, they changed.” The gospel was changing them; getting to know Christ was changing them. “When I saw that, I started to take church more seriously. I worked on my own testimony, and now I know the Church is true.”

The month passed with lots of stories to write. One Sunday they visited Grandma, and Janie made sure that she wore her reporter’s hat and carried her notebook. Grandma always had great stories. “Tell me something about Dad when he was a boy,” Janie asked her privately after dinner.
“Oh, your dad!” Grandma’s laugh twinkled in her eyes. “I remember the time our bishop asked the congregation to raise their hands if they wanted a new parking lot. Every person there but one raised his hand to vote yes. Then, when the bishop asked if anyone was against the new lot, your dad raised his hand high and called out, ‘I am, bishop. If you put in a parking lot, we won’t have anyplace to play basketball!’ The rest of the congregation laughed for ten minutes!”

That October conference, Elder Jeffrey R. Holland of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles shared some of his experiences related to moving his young family to Connecticut for graduate school. We had also moved to Connecticut for graduate school. Then he described how he and his family had fit all of their possessions into their little car—we had done the same. He explained that when the trip began, his car had overheated and broken down not once but twice! Our vehicle also broke down twice.
Finally, he described a more recent experience of driving a reliable car by the spot where his car had broken down 30 years earlier. In his mind’s eye, he saw himself as a young father and said these words: “Don’t give up, boy. Don’t you quit. … There is help and happiness ahead—a lot of it. … You keep your chin up. It will be all right in the end. Trust God and believe in good things to come.”1Elder Holland’s experience helped me feel understood and loved. His example gave me the courage to seek the spiritual witness that more education for my husband was the will of the Lord for our family.

I didn’t know where to turn. After hearing my friends talk about a controversial issue in Church history, I did the first thing I could think of to find answers to my new questions. I searched the internet.
After reading online about this debated topic, I became very confused and even angry. Why had I never known about this? Was the Church trying to hide something? How was I supposed to know if what these people were writing was true or if it was made up?
I felt a lot of fear and uncertainty after reading so many conflicting views. It was scary to realize my faith was being tested. Without noticing it, I slowly withdrew myself from God. At a time when I should’ve been praying and reading my scriptures the most, I found myself constantly forgetting and then eventually avoiding these habits.
I was trying to discover truth without the help of God—and it wasn’t working.
One Sunday I was sitting in testimony meeting and had the strong impression to talk to one of my priesthood leaders about my concerns. After the meeting, I asked my leader if we could talk. It felt so good to finally talk about what was worrying me. I cried as I explained what I had been going through the past few months and my desire to understand the truth.
He patiently listened, and then offered me comfort and advice that immediately lifted a heavy burden from my shoulders; but the most valuable thing he taught me that day was how to respond when you are faced with concerns and doubts about Church history and doctrine.
His advice included some important principles that I developed into four tools any of us can use when we come across materials that seem to undermine our faith:
Don’t forget to continue to fast and pray for guidance, read the scriptures for revelation, attend church, and worship in the temple. Amidst confusion and doubt, it might sometimes seem like prayer and scripture study are tedious tasks, but they are your most valuable tools. Remember that God is the source of all truth; as you seek to be close to Him, you will be able to find the peace you are looking for.
If you ever feel overwhelmed by negative information and don’t know where to look next, don’t give up! Make sure your parents and Church leaders know what you are struggling with. They can help you find answers to your questions and guide you to reliable resources.
Church leaders have given us many resources to learn more about Church history, including those in the scriptures, the Gospel Topics essays found on ChurchofJesusChrist.org, the Joseph Smith Papers, and the Church’s official history books, Saints. When you know the facts and the Church’s official stance on controversial subjects, you will feel more confident when you’re confronted with opposition.
While there is a lot of information now available to us, some questions do not yet have answers. We need to “remember that although Heavenly Father has revealed all that is necessary for our salvation, He has not yet revealed all truth.”1 We must have the faith and humility to persevere until we receive a greater knowledge. God teaches us line upon line, and we can experience an increase of faith and hope in the future as we draw closer to Him.
I am so grateful for what I learned through my experience. It was scary and hard at times, but now I know how to search for truth with confidence. I also know that fear and doubt are not of God and don’t help me answer my questions (see Doctrine and Covenants 6:36). The accessibility of information on the internet makes it even more important to follow the counsel in Doctrine and Covenants 88:118: “Seek ye out of the best books words of wisdom; seek learning, even by study and also by faith.” As we search for truth in holy places, we can strengthen our testimonies and faithfully endure through trials.

Of course, love conquers fear not just in missionary work but in all aspects of life. When young Gordon B. Hinckley and Marjorie Pay were engaged to be married, Gordon began to worry about the economic realities of marriage during the depression-ridden 1930s. He called his fiancée and said they needed to talk. They agreed to meet over lunch.

“I think you should know,” he told her, “that I only have $150 to my name.” He added that he only made $185 a month.

Marjorie put his fears to rest with her unexpected, optimistic response: “Oh, that will work out just fine; if you’ve got $150, we’re set!”

Reflecting on her thoughts that day, Marjorie said, “I had hoped for a husband and now I was getting $150 too!” Sister Hinckley’s love and faith empowered her to “fear not” as they started their lives together—a marriage that would become nearly seven decades of love and faith and service.

I can’t resist one other. Once in a great while a General Authority gets a Sunday without a stake conference assignment. I had one several years ago. I decided to attend my own ward. That’s a rare and interesting experience. In the time since I had last attended, our ward had been divided. We had a new member in the bishopric that I didn’t know, and it became obvious, as I approached the door, that he didn’t know me. As I walked in, he said, “Good morning! I’m Brother ___________, and who are you?”
I said, “I’m Paul Dunn.”
He said, “Oh! You’re Jeanne Dunn’s husband.”
And I said, “Yes I am.”
He said, “We’re honored to have you at church this morning.”
I said, “I’m honored to be here.”
He said, “If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to your class.”
And he did. He took me into the Senior Aaronic class. The teacher there was equally gracious and wonderful, and he didn’t know me either. He welcomed me with open arms. And, you know, it got to be kind of funny; because as he started to teach, the irony of it all was that the lesson he taught that morning I wrote. About four times during the session, I raised my hand and made a contribution. After the class the teacher said, “You know, for a guy that doesn’t come to church very often, you sure are smart.”
Well, I went up after class and said, “Sir, I just want to tell you something.”
He said, “Please do.”
I said, “I thought that was the finest lesson I’ve ever heard.”
He called me up the following Tuesday and said, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was having too much fun,” I responded, “and besides, you’re a great fellowshipper. You were tremendous.”

I have come to know that the Lord can, and will, work through us to bring about His purposes and to answer prayers. A young patient I was caring for in a pediatric intensive care unit was critically ill. As his condition deteriorated, it became apparent that he needed to be rushed to surgery. It took a team of doctors, nurses, and respiratory therapists to sustain his life during transport. As we approached the door to leave the ICU, the surgeon asked if this child had been given a priesthood blessing. His parents, who were standing nearby, answered through their tears that they had wanted to, but everyone was in such a hurry, they did not dare ask. The doctor then explained that this was going to be an extremely complicated surgery. He said he needed to have his hands and mind guided to know what needed to be done to save this young life. The child’s father and a respiratory therapist gave a beautiful blessing for strength and healing. This sweet boy survived the complicated surgery and recovered to go home with his parents. Situations like this happen on a regular basis in hospitals around the world. What made this story memorable to me was this surgeon, who requested the priesthood blessing, was not a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He was not even a religious man. But his experiences had shown him that an unknown power had influenced him in the care of patients when priesthood blessings had been given. This confirmed to me that the Lord can, and will, work through us to bring about His will.

After completing PathwayConnect, I decided to enroll in the public health program at Brigham Young University-Idaho. I completed a certification in public health planning and implementation, health method evaluation and epidemiology. I have learned to support the world in disease prevention and developed a pandemic health program. I was very happy to support my country during the COVID-19 breakout in Kinshasa. People were amazing. I learned more skills about how to control this disease in my community.

Benjamin Ballam, who has spina bifida, is a special child of Michael and Laurie Ballam, of Logan, Utah. He has been a blessing to them and many others. Having had 17 surgeries, Benjamin knows all about hospitals and doctors. Once, when an overwhelmed attendant became vocally upset—not at Benjamin, but over stressful circumstances—little three-year-old Benjamin was an example of the Lord’s commandment to be “full of love” (Mosiah 3:19). He reached out, tenderly patted the irritated attendant, and said, “I love you anyway.”

Just for the record, Jay Dee Bateman’s parents do have names. They are Karma and Brent. But anytime they go places with their oldest son, or when they meet anyone connected with Alta High School, where Jay Dee has been a student, they are introduced as Jay Dee’s parents. When they meet someone from the high school football team, or when they go into the fast-food restaurant where their son works, they hear only one thing. “Oh, you’re Jay Dee’s parents.”
“It’s fun to be related to somebody famous,” Karma says, smiling.
Jay Dee Bateman, 19, a priest in the Hidden Valley Second Ward in Sandy, Utah, is like many boys his age. His favorite class in school is weight lifting. He likes to hang out with the cheerleaders. He attends most of the school dances. Just about everybody at school and in his neighborhood knows him. He loves to play with his two younger brothers, and his three younger sisters can persuade him to help them with their chores. At church, when he gives the sacrament prayer, it brings a spiritual tone to the meeting.
Oh, and by the way, Jay Dee was born with Down’s syndrome.
As his parents point out, Jay Dee has never let his limitations keep him from trying new things. But perhaps his finest achievement is something he is able to teach by example. He knows how to make and keep good friends.
One of the biggest challenges most teens face, including LDS teens, is feeling accepted and confident enough to extend themselves and make friends with lots of different people. When the New Era first heard about Jay Dee, we intended to do an article about how a group of LDS kids were able to include a handicapped boy in their circle of friendship. However, when we talked with them about Jay Dee, they told us over and over that the credit was all Jay Dee’s. They said they hadn’t made the first moves or kept the friendships alive. Jay Dee had done it. The article idea changed. We started making a list of rules Jay Dee had taught them about making and keeping friends.
Give everybody a chance. “I met Jay Dee in the seventh grade,” says Jesse Bullock. “I was new in the school and needed a friend. I had him in choir class first period sitting right next to me. We had so much fun in that class. He doesn’t care who you are. He gives you a chance no matter what. That goes for everybody because I’ve been there.”
Call people by name. Jay Dee has a funny little habit of calling people by their whole names. His friends kind of like it. They especially like that he always remembers their names. “Jay Dee always calls you by your first and last name,” says Kendra Dana, student body president of Alta High School. “Often we are in such a hurry we just say hi. We don’t say names. I think that is admirable to be able to call people by name.”
Jared Colton says, “I knew who Jay Dee was, but he just recognized me from football. I gave him a ride one day, and he talked the whole time. When I let him out, he said, ‘Now what’s your name? My mom will want to thank you.’ He’s never forgotten my name.”
Be sociable. “I injured myself in football,” says Aaron Weaver, “and was out for the season. Jay Dee would come to every single practice because he was our team manager for football. We would sit on the bleachers and watch practice and just talk and have fun joking around. He wants to be your friend just as much as you want to be his.”
Don’t be pushy. “Lots of times I gave him a ride home from school,” says Matt Lawson. “He would never ask for a ride. He would be by my locker after last class. He’s not pushy. When I would walk out to the parking lot with him, I would be proud to be walking with him.”
Have a good attitude. “What sticks out most about Jay Dee is his basic attitude about life,” says Jesse. “I’ve never seen him down on himself or anybody else. No matter what troubles he has, he always gets through. A good attitude will invite more people to come to you.”
Be enthusiastic about the things you’re doing. “He was water boy for our football team,” says Jared. “He did that job 110 percent. When there was a timeout, he would sprint out. It wouldn’t matter what job he was given; he would do it all the way.”
Be dependable. “I’d go pick him up from football,” says Brent Bateman, Jay Dee’s dad. “He would be the only kid in the office with all the coaches. During practices, the coaches would send Jay Dee to lunch with some of the rougher football players because they knew that Jay Dee would make sure they did what they were supposed to do. He would bring them back for the second half of practice.”
Give the right kind of affection. “I’ve given more high fives to Jay Dee than to anyone else,” says Jared. “If I say hi, he stops, comes over, and shakes my hand and puts his arm around me. It’s easy to love him.”
Just be yourself. “Jay Dee doesn’t put on a show,” says Jess Arbon. “That’s what has made him so widely accepted. He is just himself around everybody. He’s not fake. He’s just who he is.”
Be accepting of differences. One of Jay Dee’s friends he has known the longest is Suzanna Romney. She and her older sister Quinn got to know Jay Dee in their ward. Even though Jay Dee was a little shy then, these sisters could see his heart of gold. They went out of their way to say hello to him. They have even asked him to be their date at girls’-choice dances. Their example began to spread through their friends and other friends and throughout the school.
“Don’t be afraid to step outside of yourself,” says Suzy. “Maybe it is easier to accept those who have Down’s syndrome or mental disabilities. What about those who aren’t born with handicaps but are just different in their interests or background? We have to not worry about that and accept everyone for the good that is in them.”
It takes practice. “It does take practice to reach outside of yourself,” says Kendra, “but when you are accepting and learn to love, it becomes easier. Things spread. If you go, then your friends will follow. Instead of one person getting to know this person who might need some help, it’s a whole group. It snowballs.”
Jay Dee Bateman has learned the secret of being a good friend. Maybe it was something he just knew inside, but through his example, others are learning the formula for making friends. And they truly care about him.
“During one football game,” says Matt Lawson, “there was a sideline play, and Jay Dee got crushed. Everyone just stopped. We didn’t care what the score was or what was happening with the game. We all helped him up. Every single person came up and asked him how he was. But he just brushed it off.”
Is it worth getting to know Jay Dee, or someone like him? “It seems,” says Jared, “that with all of us who have tried to get to know him, it has been a blessing in our lives. We have all benefitted.”
And that’s why it’s worth knowing Jay Dee. He has uncovered the secret of being a good friend. He just may have to buy nametags for his mother and father to wear. It looks like they’ll be known as Jay Dee’s parents for quite some time.
Amber Baughman, 17, of the Rock Springs (Wyoming) Fourth Ward, has a reputation similar to Jay Dee’s. Like Jay Dee, Amber was born with Down’s syndrome. And like Jay Dee, she’s figured out some ways to make and keep especially close friends.
Include everyone. At girls’ camp, Amber was a bundle of enthusiasm, and she brought a spirit of unity. “Other years, said Tambree Knight, “sometimes one or two girls used to go off for a while on their own, or maybe some would only hang out with their closest friend. But Amber needed everybody. She loved everybody and kept us together. It was really cool.”
Pray for your friends. “Amber zeroes in on feelings,” said Cami Smith. “She has a way of dealing with her friends’ distress that works every time. She prays for them. When Amber prays, she prays for us individually. She asks Heavenly Father to help us be happy again. And while she’s praying, she touches the person she’s praying for, tapping her on the head or on the shoulder. Sometimes she ends her prayers with a hug.”
Really care. Mindy, Amber’s older sister, gets emotional when she talks about going to college and leaving Amber behind. “I just can’t imagine my everyday life without my sister,” she said. But looking after her parents, her sister, and her friends has been Amber’s goal in life, one she does with enthusiasm and great care.
The girls in her ward are quick to agree—it’s nice having a friend like Amber.

Another part of Elder Taylor’s prophecy likewise was quickly fulfilled. The Olympus had just entered the terrible Irish Sea when harsh headwinds whipped huge waves against the wooden vessel day and night. For three weeks many of the passengers were tossed-about and seasick, “suffering intensely from the distressing affliction.” Finally, when a calm day brought relief, the passengers felt the worst part of their voyage was behind them. But Captain Wilson’s trained eyes, making a careful survey of the horizon, spotted a rapidly approaching cloud. At first it was no bigger than a man’s hat, but it swelled and spread at an alarming rate.

Quickly the captain gathered both shifts of the crew on deck and ordered all sails immediately shortened. He allowed Brother Nowers and a 20-year-old carpenter from Dover, England, Edmund Fuller, to stay on deck and help the crew. (Later in the voyage Mr. Fuller fell in love with a Mormon girl, Adelaide Jelley, and he joined the Church and married her in St. Louis, Missouri.)

The sails were just hauled in and secured, and passengers gathered below deck, when the new storm struck the ship full force. The Olympus trembled and reeled “like a drunkard.” The violent wind snapped the foremast off and carried it overboard. Several men nearly went overboard with the broken mast, which hanging, by the ship’s side, had to be cut loose from its stays with axes. Torrents of wind and water cracked the mainmast at the deck.

Thrown on her side the Olympus became unmanageable. Into a fearfully dark night the ship struggled, battered by hurricane winds. Seams of the vessel cracked, letting water seep into the bottom of the ship.

Two hours after the storm began, about 8:00 P.M., four feet of water had poured into the hold and the ship’s pumps were started. Above, knee-deep waters rushed over the decks, causing Brother Nowers and Mr. Fuller to lash themselves to the pumps they were operating to keep from being washed overboard. Hour after hour the storm raged. And the Olympus took on more and more water.

By midnight the captain, crew, and men on deck were despondent because the storm showed no signs of abating. Brother Nowers heard the captain order Second Mate Hamilton to go below deck and tell the Mormon’s president, Elder Howell, that “if the God of the Mormons can do anything to save the ship and the people, they had better be calling on him to do so.” The captain confessed that despite the crew’s best efforts the Olympus was sinking at the rate of 30 centimeters per hour and that by daylight it would be on the bottom of the sea unless the storm ceased

The second mate asked Brother Nowers to accompany him below to deliver the message to the Mormons. As soon as the crashing waves allowed the two messengers unbarred the companionway and went below. They found Elder Howell in his bed and told him the captain’s appeal.

The Mormon leader answered calmly. “You may tell Captain Wilson that we are not going to the bottom of the ocean for we embarked from Liverpool on a voyage for New Orleans, Louisiana, and we will arrive safely in that port. Our God will protect us.” Mr. Hamilton returned to the deck and gave Captain Wilson the Mormons’ answer.

Brother Nowers, dripping wet, could not help noticing the absolute chaos below deck. Everywhere unsecured trunks and packages rolled and skidded from one side to the other as the ship swayed and rolled. Some passengers were crying. Others prayed. Others simply waited.

President Howell quickly arose, dressed, and called about a dozen brethren, including new convert Wilson Nowers, to his side. The leader instructed that each man in the circle take a turn to pray vocally that the Lord would spare the vessel. Elder Howell prayed last.

“While he was still engaged in prayer,” Brother Nowers said, “I noticed a significant change in the motion of the ship.” Instead of rolling and tossing, the Olympus “seemed to tremble as one suffering from the effects of a severe cold.” He could not believe the ship was sinking. But he also could not believe that the storm had so suddenly ceased.

After the final hearty “amen” President Howell sent the prayer circle members back to bed. Brother Nowers, however, returned to his pumping duties on deck. There, astonished, he found that “the storm had miraculously ceased; the wind had gone down, and the waves were stilled close around the ship, while in the distance the billows were still raging.” The Olympus trembled at so sudden a change.

Pumping continued until daylight. When the Sabbath day finally dawned, clear and bright, Captain Wilson admitted that he had done all he could do before calling on the Mormons and that only God’s hand had saved the sinking ship.

One of my haunting childhood memories begins with the howl of distant air-raid sirens that awaken me from sleep. Before long, another sound, the rattle and hum of propellers, gradually increases until it shakes the very air. Trained well by our mother, we children each grab our bag and run up the hill to a bomb shelter. As we hurry through the pitch-dark night, green and white flares drop from the sky to mark the targets for the bombers. Strangely enough, everyone calls these flares Christmas trees.
I am four years old, and I am a witness to a world at war.
Not far from where my family lived was the city of Dresden. Those who lived there witnessed perhaps a thousand times what I had seen. Massive firestorms, caused by thousands of tons of explosives, swept through Dresden, destroying more than 90 percent of the city and leaving little but rubble and ash in their wake.
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In a very short time, the city once nicknamed the “Jewel Box” was no more. Erich Kästner, a German author, wrote of the destruction, “In a thousand years was her beauty built, in one night was it utterly destroyed.”1 During my childhood I could not imagine how the destruction of a war our own people had started could ever be overcome. The world around us appeared totally hopeless and without any future.
Last year I had the opportunity to return to Dresden. Seventy years after the war, it is, once again, a “Jewel Box” of a city. The ruins have been cleared, and the city is restored and even improved.
Bettmann/Bettmann/Getty Images
During my visit I saw the beautiful Lutheran church Frauenkirche, the Church of Our Lady. Originally built in the 1700s, it had been one of Dresden’s shining jewels, but the war reduced it to a pile of rubble. For many years it remained that way, until finally it was determined that the Frauenkirche would be rebuilt.

Stones from the destroyed church had been stored and cataloged and, when possible, were used in the reconstruction. Today you can see these fire-blackened stones pockmarking the outer walls. These “scars” are not only a reminder of the war history of this building but also a monument to hope—a magnificent symbol of man’s ability to create new life from ashes.

As I pondered the history of Dresden and marveled at the ingenuity and resolve of those who restored what had been so completely destroyed, I felt the sweet influence of the Holy Spirit. Surely, I thought, if man can take the ruins, rubble, and remains of a broken city and rebuild an awe-inspiring structure that rises toward the heavens, how much more capable is our Almighty Father to restore His children who have fallen, struggled, or become lost?
It matters not how completely ruined our lives may seem. It matters not how scarlet our sins, how deep our bitterness, how lonely, abandoned, or broken our hearts may be. Even those who are without hope, who live in despair, who have betrayed trust, surrendered their integrity, or turned away from God can be rebuilt. Save those rare sons of perdition, there is no life so shattered that it cannot be restored.
The joyous news of the gospel is this: because of the eternal plan of happiness provided by our loving Heavenly Father and through the infinite sacrifice of Jesus the Christ, we can not only be redeemed from our fallen state and restored to purity, but we can also transcend mortal imagination and become heirs of eternal life and partakers of God’s indescribable glory.
During the Savior’s ministry, the religious leaders of His day disapproved of Jesus spending time with people they had labeled “sinners.”
Perhaps to them it looked like He was tolerating or even condoning sinful behavior. Perhaps they believed that the best way to help sinners repent was by condemning, ridiculing, and shaming them.
When the Savior perceived what the Pharisees and scribes were thinking, He told a story:
“What man of you, having an hundred sheep, if he lose one of them, doth not leave the ninety and nine in the wilderness, and go after that which is lost, until he find it?
“And when he hath found it, he layeth it on his shoulders, rejoicing.”2
Over the centuries, this parable has traditionally been interpreted as a call to action for us to bring back the lost sheep and to reach out to those who are lost. While this is certainly appropriate and good, I wonder if there is more to it.
Is it possible that Jesus’s purpose, first and foremost, was to teach about the work of the Good Shepherd?
Is it possible that He was testifying of God’s love for His wayward children?
Is it possible that the Savior’s message was that God is fully aware of those who are lost—and that He will find them, that He will reach out to them, and that He will rescue them?
If that is so, what must the sheep do to qualify for this divine help?
Does the sheep need to know how to use a complicated sextant to calculate its coordinates? Does it need to be able to use a GPS to define its position? Does it have to have the expertise to create an app that will call for help? Does the sheep need endorsements by a sponsor before the Good Shepherd will come to the rescue?
No. Certainly not! The sheep is worthy of divine rescue simply because it is loved by the Good Shepherd.
To me, the parable of the lost sheep is one of the most hopeful passages in all of scripture.
Our Savior, the Good Shepherd, knows and loves us. He knows and loves you.
He knows when you are lost, and He knows where you are. He knows your grief. Your silent pleadings. Your fears. Your tears.
It matters not how you became lost—whether because of your own poor choices or because of circumstances beyond your control.
What matters is that you are His child. And He loves you. He loves His children.
Because He loves you, He will find you. He will place you upon His shoulders, rejoicing. And when He brings you home, He will say to one and all, “Rejoice with me; for I have found my sheep which was lost.”3
But, you might be thinking, what is the catch? Surely I have to do more than simply wait to be rescued.
While our loving Father desires that all of His children return to Him, He will force no one to heaven.4 God will not rescue us against our will.
So what must we do?
His invitation is simple:
“Turn … to me.”5
“Come unto me.”6
“Draw near unto me and I will draw near unto you.”7
This is how we show Him that we want to be rescued.
It requires a little faith. But do not despair. If you cannot muster faith right now, begin with hope.
If you cannot say you know God is there, you can hope that He is. You can desire to believe.8 That is enough to start.
Then, acting on that hope, reach out to Heavenly Father. God will extend His love toward you, and His work of rescue and transformation will begin.
Over time, you will recognize His hand in your life. You will feel His love. And the desire to walk in His light and follow His way will grow with every step of faith you take.
We call these steps of faith “obedience.”
That is not a popular word these days. But obedience is a cherished concept in the gospel of Jesus Christ because we know that “through the Atonement of Christ, all mankind may be saved, by obedience to the laws and ordinances of the Gospel.”9
As we increase in faith, we also must increase in faithfulness. Earlier I quoted a German author who lamented the destruction of Dresden. He also penned the phrase “Es gibt nichts Gutes, ausser: Man tut es.” For those who do not speak the celestial language, this is translated as “There is nothing good unless you do it.”10
You and I may speak most eloquently of spiritual things. We may impress people with our keen intellectual interpretation of religious topics. We may rhapsodize about religion and “dream of [our] mansion above.”11 But if our faith does not change the way we live—if our beliefs do not influence our daily decisions—our religion is vain, and our faith, if not dead, is certainly not well and is in danger of eventually flatlining.12
Obedience is the lifeblood of faith. It is by obedience that we gather light into our souls.
But sometimes I think we misunderstand obedience. We may see obedience as an end in itself, rather than a means to an end. Or we may pound the metaphorical hammer of obedience against the iron anvil of the commandments in an effort to shape those we love, through constant heating and repeated battering, into holier, heavenly matter.
No doubt about it, there are times when we need a stern call to repentance. Certainly, there are some who may be reached only in this manner.
But perhaps there is a different metaphor that can explain why we obey the commandments of God. Maybe obedience is not so much the process of bending, twisting, and pounding our souls into something we are not. Instead, it is the process by which we discover what we truly are made of.
We are created by the Almighty God. He is our Heavenly Father. We are literally His spirit children. We are made of supernal material most precious and highly refined, and thus we carry within ourselves the substance of divinity.
Here on earth, however, our thoughts and actions become encumbered with that which is corrupt, unholy, and impure. The dust and filth of the world stain our souls, making it difficult to recognize and remember our birthright and purpose.
But all this cannot change who we truly are. The fundamental divinity of our nature remains. And the moment we choose to incline our hearts to our beloved Savior and set foot upon the path of discipleship, something miraculous happens. The love of God fills our hearts, the light of truth fills our minds, we start to lose the desire to sin, and we do not want to walk any longer in darkness.13
We come to see obedience not as a punishment but as a liberating path to our divine destiny. And gradually, the corruption, dust, and limitations of this earth begin to fall away. Eventually, the priceless, eternal spirit of the heavenly being within us is revealed, and a radiance of goodness becomes our nature.
My dear brothers and sisters, my dear friends, I testify that God sees us as we truly are—and He sees us worthy of rescue.
You may feel that your life is in ruins. You may have sinned. You may be afraid, angry, grieving, or tortured by doubt. But just as the Good Shepherd finds His lost sheep, if you will only lift up your heart to the Savior of the world, He will find you.
He will rescue you.
He will lift you up and place you on His shoulders.
He will carry you home.
If mortal hands can transform rubble and ruins into a beautiful house of worship, then we can have confidence and trust that our loving Heavenly Father can and will rebuild us. His plan is to build us into something far greater than what we were—far greater than what we can ever imagine. With each step of faith on the path of discipleship, we grow into the beings of eternal glory and infinite joy we were designed to become.
This is my testimony, my blessing, and my humble prayer in the sacred name of our Master, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

In L’viv, a city in western Ukraine, Yuri Voynarovich and his family started searching for truth when he was just 10 years old. For years they visited different churches. Then his uncle invited them to attend a branch of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and Yuri’s parents were soon baptized and confirmed.
“I didn’t go at first,” Yuri says. “I kept searching on my own.”
But his parents, who knew the Church was true, didn’t give up on their son. They invited Yuri to English lessons and youth activities as well as Sunday meetings. Finally, the missionaries themselves invited him to English classes.
“I couldn’t say no to them,” Yuri says. So he went. Then he went to church. Eventually he too was baptized.
“Since that day I’ve had many more experiences that have built and molded my testimony and character into who I am today,” he says.
“I often see people who suffer from bad choices they’ve made,” he says. “I understand sometimes it’s hard because of temptations and peer pressure, but we shouldn’t give up. Later we can see the blessings that come from obedience.”
Yuri, now 17, serves as the branch mission leader and branch clerk in L’viv.
“I am so thankful for the Church and all it has done for me,” Yuri says. “I love this Church. I encourage everyone to hold to the iron rod and never let go.”

Steve was working on a term paper when a credit card company called his Brigham Young University dorm. The company was offering cards to students and wondered if he would like to apply. Happy to take a break from studying, Steve agreed to answer a few questions. He told the representative he was on scholarship and had no income. Since he planned to serve a mission at the end of the year, it would be a long time before he graduated and began a career. I’ll never get approved, Steve thought as the conversation ended. To his amazement, he received a $2,000-limit credit card a week later in the mail.
Credit card debt can get out of control, causing heartache and deep financial troubles if unchecked. President Gordon B. Hinckley has said, “Debt can be a terrible thing. It is so easy to incur and so difficult to repay. Borrowed money is had only at a price, and that price can be burdensome” (Ensign, Mar. 1990, 4). Steve learned this lesson the hard way. For the first few months he had his credit card, it stayed in his wallet. But in the last three weeks of his freshman year, Steve went on a spending spree. “After a year of living on a few hundred dollars a month, I decided to go have some fun,” says Steve.
With his credit card he paid for weekend trips and new clothes. By the time he went home, he had racked up charges nearing his credit limit. As a result, he spent the summer before his mission working frantically to pay off the debt. “It wasn’t a positive learning experience,” says Steve. “At the time, I didn’t realize that a credit card doesn’t expand your income now; it shrinks your future income because of debt.”

I have gone far in my family history, and the more I have been doing, the more I am dreaming about my ancestors. Let me share only two dreams.
First: I will never forget the dream I had about two years ago, about my paternal great-uncle Steven. In that dream, I traveled to my hometown and wanted to come back. I got to the market square, where I wanted to get a car back to my base. Then I saw a car and entered it. When we moved, I looked through the car window, and I saw Uncle Steven running after the car and stopping it. When the car stopped, he entered at the back, where I sat and started pointing at my face and said, “What did I do to you? Why do you not want to help me the way you are helping others?”
When I woke up, I was confused, so I narrated the dream to one of my sons. He told me that the dream I had was about doing temple work for our ancestors. I told him that I didn’t know how I would do this one because I don’t know much about Uncle Steven and I don’t know how I can trust his lineage. We are not from the same village.
My son told me to pray to our Heavenly Father for direction on what to do. So I prayed. One day our most senior brother, my first cousin Emeka, who wasn’t a Christian (he was a traditional man), called me to discuss something. We talked on the phone, and when the discussion was finished, I seized the opportunity to ask him about our Uncle Steven. He acknowledged he knew things about him, and he sent the information that he had to me. I kept on asking him about many people. He sent me information he had for about 15 people. I handed that information to my son to be doing temple work for them.
Second: I had another dream when I traveled home again. I was coming out from my father’s compound, and somebody called my name. I looked on my right side, and I saw Emeka’s stepmother, Virginia, and our uncle’s wife, Regina, and also Emeka’s senior sister, Victoria. All are dead. Emeka’s stepmother was the one who called me. As I was going towards them, Emeka’s sister backed me away, telling them something. Then I heard Emeka’s stepmother saying, “No, no. She is the one helping us.” Our Uncle’s wife was supporting her, saying, “She is the one helping us.”
These experiences taught me how close we are to our dead and help me understand that it is I helping them.

Jeff wanted to be a missionary just like his older brother who was on a mission in Colombia. But how can I be a missionary when I’m afraid to talk to people? Jeff wondered.
Just last week the Primary president asked all the children to be missionaries and bring somebody new to Primary.
“We have a wonderful Primary,” she told the children, but think how much better it would be if we had more children to share our Primary with.” Then she asked the boys and girls to raise their hands if they thought they could bring a friend the next week. Jeff raised his hand. Now he wondered why he had done it. How was he ever going to get the courage to talk to anyone at school about the Church?
Jeff and Jimmy were the only two LDS boys their age in school. They were also the only Blazer boys in the Primary. They had a good teacher and Jeff knew that one of the reasons why he had raised his hand to be a missionary was to please her. He knew that if other boys came, they would like Sister Labrador and the good lessons she gave.
Jeff remembered one time the two full-time missionaries in their sacrament meeting telling them about the good feeling they had when they shared the gospel with others. Jeff wanted that good feeling too. But how was he ever going to have it when he was so timid?
Jeff walked into the kitchen and slumped down in a chair by the table where his mother was decorating some dish towels with her textile paints. Jeff asked, “Won’t that paint wash out of the cloth, Mom?”
“No, Jeff, the paints are made to stay right in the fabric.”
“Hey, that’s neat. Can you paint anything on the towels you want to?” asked Jeff.
“Sure, son. You sound excited about something,” replied Mother.
Jeff was excited. He had an idea. “Mom, can I paint something on my yellow T-shirt?” he asked.
Mother laughed. “I don’t know what you have in mind, but go ahead.”
Jeff was back in a few minutes, grinning and waving his shirt. He laid it on the table and smoothed out all the wrinkles. Then, with Mother’s black painting pen, he drew on the front of the shirt a great big face with two round eyes and a large smile. Underneath the face he wrote, HAPPINESS IS GOING TO PRIMARY.
When the paint was dry, Jeff turned the shirt over and on the back he printed in large letters, WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT PRIMARY—WOULD YOU LIKE TO KNOW MORE? He could hardly wait to wear his shirt to school. The next day they were having a school activity and they could wear their play clothes, Jeff put on his yellow T-shirt and went to school. When he walked into the coat hall there were several boys there already. As Jeff took off his jacket and hung it on the hook, one of the boys was quick to notice the bright yellow T-shirt with the big face painted on the front and the letters on the back. “What does your shirt say, Jeff? Let me read it,” said Andy.
Jeff stood still, his heart pounding. All of a sudden he thought, what if they make fun of me?
Andy read the words on the shirt out loud. “Primary?” he questioned? “What’s Primary?”
Here was Jeff’s big chance. He prayed inside that he would say the right thing. “Well, in Primary we learn to—” Jeff’s voice tightened upon him and the words got stuck in his mouth.
All of a sudden, Greg, one of the other boys, interrupted. “Hey, Jeff, isn’t Primary where you learn about Scouting and other neat things you were telling me about the other day?”
“Scouting?” questioned Andy. “My dad was a Boy Scout and he wants me to be one too. Can I go to Primary with you Jeff? Can just anyone go?”
Before Jeff could answer, Greg said, “Me too! I never have anything to do after school. My parents both work and nobody’s ever home.”
Jeff could hardly believe what he was hearing. His voice came back and he felt relaxed and happy. “Sure,” said Jeff, “anybody can come—the more the better. It’s on Tuesday and we learn lots of neat things besides Scouting. You’ll really like our teacher. She’s just great.”
The bell rang and the boys filed into the classroom. Jeff’s seat was by his Primary friend Jimmy. As Jeff sat down, Jimmy looked at Jeff’s shirt and said, “Do you think that’s going to work?”
Jeff’s smile got bigger and bigger as he whispered, “It already has!”
At recess Jeff told Jimmy about Andy and Greg. He could hardly believe what had happened. Jimmy became excited about painting a missionary T-shirt too.
“Wow!” he exclaimed. “If we can get the whole Primary wearing these shirts to school, a lot of kids will soon be interested. Our Primary will grow bigger and bigger.”
Even shy boys can be missionaries. It just takes some doing, Jeff concluded.
Already Jeff was beginning to have that good feeling that the missionaries had talked about. Wouldn’t they be surprised when they heard about the first T-shirt missionary!

A true story from the USA.
Alex stomped down the stairs and let out a loud sigh.
Mom looked up from her book. “What’s wrong?”
“Nobody will share with me!” Alex said. “I hate being a middle kid.” Alex’s brothers always got what they wanted. It just wasn’t fair.
“I’m sure if you asked nicely, your brothers would share with you,” Mom said.
Alex frowned. “I did ask nicely!”
“How about you try setting a timer? That way each of you gets the same amount of time to play.”
“I did set a timer!” Alex said. “But maybe I’ll set two timers to be extra sure.” He grabbed the extra timer from the kitchen counter and marched up the stairs. His younger brother, David, was playing a game on the TV.
“Mom says you have to share,” Alex said. He set the timer for five minutes. “When this goes off, it’s my turn.”
The next day, when Alex and his older brother, Jake, both wanted to play a game, they set a timer for exactly 30 minutes each. When David and Jake were both playing with blocks, they counted out exactly the same number for each person. And when David and Alex both wanted the last chocolate chip cookie, they carefully split it exactly in half. Things were finally starting to feel fair.
But then came dinner …
That night, they were having spaghetti and meatballs! Jake started piling pasta on his plate before Alex could even grab the spoon.
“Hey, no fair,” Alex said. “I’m hungry too!”
Dad put a hand on his shoulder. “Alex, there’s plenty of food for everyone. Look, I’ll get you the same amount that Jake has.” Dad put some pasta on Alex’s plate.
After they blessed the food, everyone started eating. When Alex had finished his food, he was still hungry. He peeked into the pot in the middle of the table. There was one last meatball on top of the pile of pasta. He spooned it onto his plate.
“No fair!” David said. “That’s the last one.”
Jake pointed at the meatball with his fork. “I want some too. Let’s split it.”
“Split it?” Alex said. “For three of us? But it’s so small.”
Jake and David nodded. “It would be fair.”
Jake took Alex’s plate and began carefully dividing the meatball into three parts. Alex watched as the meatball got smaller and smaller.
Mom laughed. “Those are pretty small pieces!”
Dad laughed too. “It doesn’t always have to be exactly fair,” he said. “Maybe we could try to be better at sharing our things instead of splitting everything up.”
Alex looked down at the small pieces of meatball. It was a little silly. Did he actually care that much about a meatball? Maybe he did need to learn to share more.
The next day, when Jake and Alex both wanted to play with blocks, they decided to build something together. When David and Jake were outside, Alex let them take turns riding his bike. And when everyone wanted to play a game on the TV, Alex didn’t set any timers. Sharing and being kind actually felt better than being perfectly fair.
That night, when Jake and Alex both wanted the last roll at dinner, Alex told Jake he could have the whole thing.
“Thanks!” Jake winked. “Are you sure you don’t want to split it in three?”
David and Alex laughed. “Definitely not!”

I remember many years ago, during a particularly trying period, I felt as though specific attacks were being made on my family, on my health, and on my integrity. I was fasting, praying, seeking counsel, and still feeling acute anxiety over how, when, and if the serious challenges would be resolved. The thing that brought the most relief during that difficult time was reviewing in my mind the words to the hymn “Be Still, My Soul.” I memorized all the verses and recited them at least once a day. The words that provided the most solace and comfort were:
Be still, my soul: The Lord is on thy side;
With patience bear thy cross of grief or pain.
Leave to thy God to order and provide;
In ev’ry change he faithful will remain. …
Be still, my soul: Thy God doth undertake
To guide the future as he has the past.
Thy hope, thy confidence let nothing shake;
All now mysterious shall be bright at last.
I’ll never forget the blessing these words and the music were to me when they were sorely needed.

On one occasion I was in a mission conference when a missionary with great compassion, with tears in his eyes, asked me, “Why did the Savior have to suffer so much?” I reached for our hymnbook, turned to this song, and answered his question with this verse:
And when I think that God, his Son not sparing,
Sent him to die, I scarce can take it in,
That on the cross, my burden gladly bearing,
He bled and died to take away my sin.
Jesus suffered so much because of His love for you and me. What a message! Worthy music is powerful. It has power to make us humble, prayerful, and grateful.

Mateo and his dad walked to their family’s fruit stand together. Mateo’s dog, Zeus, followed them.
“Did you ask the bishop about my baptism?” Mateo asked. He was already eight, but he hadn’t been baptized yet because of the pandemic.
“He said you won’t be able to get baptized this month,” Dad said. “Maybe next month.”
“OK.” Mateo frowned. He really wanted to be baptized and receive the gift of the Holy Ghost. But it seemed like it would never happen!
Dad unlocked the stand. Mateo helped carry out boxes of oranges, lemons, mangoes, and bananas. Then he helped put them on the shelves.
Mateo kept thinking about the Holy Ghost while they worked. “What does the Holy Ghost feel like?” he asked.
“The Holy Ghost comforts me when I’m sad,” Dad said. “And He makes me feel good when I help someone.”
“I can’t wait to be baptized so I can feel the Holy Ghost too!”
“Even before you are baptized and confirmed, you can feel the Holy Ghost,” Dad said. “You can feel His comfort now. Like when you pray or do something kind for someone. Then after you are confirmed, you can always have the Holy Ghost with you.”
Mateo thought about that. Had he felt the Holy Ghost before?
Soon they had unloaded all the boxes. “Are you ready to help the Sosas?” Dad asked.
Mateo nodded. Mr. and Mrs. Sosa both had a hard time walking. So Mateo went to the market for them. Sometimes he helped them do chores too.
Mateo and Zeus walked to the Sosas’ house. Mrs. Sosa waved from the front porch. “Good morning!”
“Do you need groceries today?” Mateo asked.
“Yes. I need bread, potatoes, and beef.” Mrs. Sosa counted out some coins. “That should be enough.”
Mateo took the money. He saw a bag of trash by the door. “Can I take that out for you?” he asked.
“Yes. Thank you!” Mrs. Sosa said.
After he took the trash out, Mateo bought the food. He thought about all the things he’d done that morning. He helped Dad at the fruit stand. He helped the Sosas buy food. And he did have a good feeling inside. He was feeling the Holy Ghost, just like Dad said!
Mateo hoped he wouldn’t have to wait much longer to be baptized. He wanted to have the Holy Ghost with him all the time!
This story took place in Uruguay.