Gospel Story Finder

Growing up, I was always inclined to perfectionism. So when I received my patriarchal blessing, one admonition in particular seemed natural: to complete the tasks I was given “to the best of [my] ability, to perfection.” Only later would I start to realize how little I understood perfection—or the role of grace.
In 1998 I returned home early from a mission due to health problems. I felt a tremendous amount of guilt because I felt I had not completed my mission “to perfection.” Added to this sense of failure was uncertainty about my illness. So far, doctors had been unable to diagnose it.
In spite of my health challenges, I knew I needed to move forward, so I enrolled in a university to continue my education. After only two quarters, however, I returned home again, in pain, for urgent surgery. It was at this point that doctors discovered I had an autoimmune disease.
While I was recovering from surgery, I began working part-time at the chocolate store where I had been employed as a teenager. Even though I was doing what I could, I didn’t feel that I was pursuing anything worthwhile, much less completing it “to perfection.” I began to compare myself to others, especially to my friends who were completing their college degrees, serving missions, or starting families. I felt left behind.
Then I met Stephanie. She came into the candy store one day wearing a black scarf around her head. As I pointed out to her my favorite chocolate, I felt impressed to inquire about her situation. She smiled, removed her scarf, and, pointing to her bald head, told me she was going through chemotherapy. That exchange was the start of a special and candid friendship.
Stephanie came by the store regularly to enjoy a treat and talk about life. I learned that she was a member of the Church and that she had struggled spiritually as well as physically. She told me about some rebellious choices she had made and about her efforts to repent. She was working toward being sealed to her husband in the temple.
One day I shared some of my own challenges. I confided in her how discouraged I was by my circumstances. “I am scooping the same ice cream I scooped in high school,” I explained. “I didn’t complete my mission or college, and I don’t know what to do now.”
Stephanie responded, “Why do you have to finish the race of life in a set time? Why not just run the race?”
For the first time, I realized that the efforts I was making were my best, and my best was enough. The Savior loved me, and His grace, through His Atonement, was sufficient for me, for my deficiencies. Although I felt I had been looking to Him all along, until Stephanie shared her insight with me, I had somehow missed an important lesson about His role in my life.
Ether 12:27 says, “My grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them.” As I have been able to humble myself and have faith in the Lord, I have seen over and over again that He does indeed make weak things become strong. My increased testimony of this truth has helped me face my challenges with greater faith and hope.
A few months after that conversation, I left my hometown to start a new job and lost contact with my friend. One day my mom called to tell me that she had seen Stephanie’s obituary in the newspaper. I came home to attend her funeral and learned she had been sealed to her husband just three weeks before her death.
My heart sighed with gratitude for having had Stephanie in my life and for what she taught me about running a perfect race. I don’t always need to sprint. Occasionally, it will be all I can do to simply face the finish line. Doing our best to move forward—no matter what speed “our best” is—is OK. Our efforts can be made perfect because the Lord’s grace is sufficient for us all (see Moroni 10:32).

These, of course, are difficult questions to answer. Sometimes a contrast will offer a perspective that cannot otherwise be gained. Stories of the early Church leaders have always been helpful to me as examples of what it means to place the kingdom of God first. These stories really began to live for me when I was a young missionary. In those days missionaries were not blessed with the many teaching aids that we have today. We had the scriptures and a big, black box that contained a record player and a set of records entitled The Fulness of Times. (I always hoped and prayed for a small companion because we would carry this big black box on a broomstick between us. If I was taller, the weight would always shift to my companion!) These records depicted the historical account of the early history of the Church from the First Vision to the Nauvoo period.
There was one episode depicted on the records that would nearly bring tears to my eyes as my companion and I would listen to it over and over again. It was the account of Brigham Young and Heber C. Kimball leaving their wives, children, and humble homes to journey to Great Britain in response to their mission calls to that faraway land. Heber C. Kimball records the event in these words:
“‘September 14th, … President Brigham Young left his home at Montrose to start on the mission to England. He was so sick that he was unable to go to the Mississippi, a distance of thirty rods, without assistance. After he had crossed the river he rode behind Israel Barlow on his horse to my house, where he continued sick until the 18th. He left his wife sick with a babe only three weeks old, and all of his other children were sick and unable to wait upon each other. Not one soul of them was able to go to the well for a pail of water, and they were without a second suit to their backs, for the mob in Missouri had taken nearly all he had. On the 17th, Sister Mary Ann Young got a boy to carry her up in his wagon to my house, that she might nurse and comfort Brother Brigham to the hour of starting.
“‘September 18th, Charles Hubbard sent his boy with a wagon and span of horses to my house; our trunks were put into the wagon by some brethren; I went to my bed and shook hands with my wife who was then shaking with a chill, having two children lying sick by her side; I embraced her and my children, and bade them farewell. My only well child was little Heber P., and it was with difficulty he could carry a couple of quarts of water at a time to assist in quenching their thirst.
“‘It was with difficulty we got into the wagon, and started down the hill about ten rods; it appeared to me as though my very inmost parts would melt within me at leaving my family in such a condition, as it were almost in the arms of death. I felt as though I could not endure it. I asked the teamster to stop, and said to Brother Brigham, “This is pretty tough, isn’t it; let’s rise up and give them a cheer.” We arose, and swinging our hats three times over our heads, shouted: “Hurrah, hurrah for Israel.” Vilate, hearing the noise, arose from her bed and came to the door. She had a smile on her face. Vilate and Mary Ann Young cried out to us: “Goodbye, God bless you!” We returned the compliment, and then told the driver to go ahead. After this I felt a spirit of joy and gratitude, having had the satisfaction of seeing my wife standing upon her feet, instead of leaving her in bed, knowing well that I should not see them again for two or three years’” (Orson F. Whitney, Life of Heber C. Kimball, Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1967, pp. 265–66).
I have often wondered how these brethren, as valiant as they were, could do what they did. Truly they were willing to make any sacrifice asked of them to build the kingdom of God. They were laying up “treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt” (Matt. 6:20).
There is something else about this story, however, that has always intrigued me. As Brigham Young and Heber C. Kimball left on their missions to Great Britain, there appeared to be a lot of support from their brethren to help them on their way. Israel Barlow assisted Brigham Young across the Mississippi River. Later, Charles Hubbard sent his son with a wagon to the Kimball home to assist the two missionaries as they began their long journey.
If we look carefully at this story, we catch a glimpse of the unity that must have existed among the Saints in those early days. As husbands and fathers would leave for missionary service, their departure was made easier because they knew that brothers, sisters, priesthood leaders, and friends would step in to help fill the void created by their absence.
These brethren were able to invest in building the kingdom of God in faraway lands because they knew that others would be investing in building the kingdom at home by helping their loved ones whenever assistance was needed. There was a unique bonding, a special faith in the community of Saints, dedicated to a common goal, a common purpose. If we return to Jacob’s counsel to his people, we see the same message communicated as he instructed them to be familiar with all and to share freely of their substance (see Jacob 2:17).
What this testifies to me is that we can tell whether or not we put the kingdom of God first by looking at how we treat our brothers and sisters in the Church. Is there a special bond uniting us? Is there an absence of envy and backbiting? Do we rejoice in the success of a brother or sister as much as in our own? Do we share our substance so that all may be rich like unto us? Ultimately, are we our brothers’ and sisters’ keepers?
As I travel throughout the Church I marvel at all the positive things that are occurring. Yet I never feel that we, as a people, are living up to our real potential. My sense is that we do not always work together, that we are still too much interested in aspirations for personal honors and success, and show too little interest in the common goal of building the kingdom of God.
When we look at all the Lord asks of us, it can sometimes seem overwhelming. Of course, where much has been given, much is expected. I believe it is helpful when faced with an enormous challenge to view it as a step-by-step process. We begin by taking the first step, then continue by taking one step at a time. I am certain that the Lord is pleased even with our small beginnings, because in His infinite wisdom He knows that small things often become great things.
The first step always involves a deepening of commitment to the Lord and His glorious work. Again, this is a commitment to consider His work first. Our subsequent steps are guided by this initial commitment, but can, of course, take several directions.
We can help by serving our brothers and sisters in the Church. We can go to those who have not yet received the gospel and convert them to its truths. We can go to the temple and perform this great redeeming work for the dead. As we engage in the work of the Lord, He will increase our capacity as we increase our desire. We will pull closer together as a people engaged in a common effort. Through sacrifices we make one for another and for Him, we will realize our potential as His children and prepare the way for His eventual, glorious return.
May each of us accept the challenge to seek the kingdom of God first, before and above all else, and by so doing draw closer together as a people, until we are all of one heart and one mind, I humbly pray in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Illustrations by Cam Kendell
Hi, Mia. Want to play four square with us?
I don’t really feel like playing right now.
OK.
That night …
Sound label: Sniffle (coming from top bunk)
I don’t know why I feel so sad. Maybe a Primary song will help me feel better.
Heavenly Father, are you really there? And do you hear and answer every child’s prayer?
What’s wrong, Mia?
I was sad, but now I feel the Holy Ghost.
What does the Holy Ghost do?
He comforts us. That’s why He’s called the Comforter.
Mom, Dad, guess what? I felt the Holy Ghost! I was sad, and He comforted me.
I’m so glad! Come tell us about it.
The next day …
Hi, Mia. Are you feeling better?
Yes! Can I play with you today?
Yeah! Let’s go.
Thanks!
Thanks to Mia P. for sharing her story!

When Tropical Storm Washi descended on the Philippines in 2011, it flooded the area with a deluge of water and wind. Some 41,000 homes were damaged, and more than 1,200 people lost their lives.
Prior to the flooding, Max Saavedra, president of the Cagayan de Oro Philippines Stake, had felt prompted to create a stake emergency response team. He organized committees to fulfill various assignments—everything from search and rescue to first aid to providing food, water, and clothing.
As the floodwaters receded to a safe level, Church leaders and members mobilized. They accounted for the safety of each member and assessed the damage. One member supplied rubber rafts to bring stranded members to safety. The meetinghouses were opened to provide shelter to all who needed food, clothing, blankets, and a temporary place to stay. Clean water was a critical need, so President Saavedra contacted a local business that owned a fire truck, and they transported clean water to the meetinghouse evacuation centers. Members with professional medical experience responded to those who had been injured.
Once Church members were accounted for, President Saavedra and his team visited other evacuation centers in the city and offered to help. They brought them food and other supplies. Many of the members, though they had lost their own homes, selflessly served others immediately after the storm. As the rains stopped and the ground dried, Mormon Helping Hands volunteers from three stakes went to work distributing supplies as well as helping with cleanup.

The girls in the Salt Lake East Millcreek Fourth Ward kept track of their acts of charity in a candy jar. Each week the girls put a piece of candy into the jar for each act of service they had been involved in that week. As the jar filled with the sweets, the girls were reminded of the sweetness of service. When the jar was full, the girls selected a special family and presented the jar to them, explaining what the filled jar meant—each candy represented a charitable act.

On this campus are found many unsung heroes. Many go unnoticed for the work they do to help develop Christ-like attributes in thousands of student lives. One particular hero of mine is Irene Lesuma. Let me explain. In the 90s, Brother Meli Lesuma was called to be a bishop of the BYU–Hawaii 3rd Ward. That was before the stake and ward’s went through the re-naming process. Because of his responsibilities, Irene automatically assumed the role of a bishop’s wife. Just recently, she told me of this story of a student in her husband’s ward. This is her account of what took place.

“While my husband was Bishop of BYU–Hawaii 3rd ward, I would attend the sacrament meetings.
“One Sunday as I was driving home after the Sacrament meeting, I passed a member of his ward walking home. As I passed the student, I had a strong impression to turn the car around and go back and invite him home for lunch. I am usually good in ‘listening” to the spirit but on this particular day I was ‘talking back’ and trying to ‘justify’ why I should not turn the car around and invite the student home. Again, the spirit very strongly and very clearly said to me to turn the car around and go back and invite the student home for lunch.
“I did – the student gratefully accepted the invitation and we went home. I got lunch ready and he and my children and I sat at the dining table and ate and visited with each other. We talked about a lot of things and had a great time. During the conversation the spirit whispered to me that I should put some groceries together and give it to this young man. I tried to talk myself out of this – BUT again, the spirit told me that I needed to do this.
“I did – I went and filled up three shopping bags of grocery items: cans of this and cans of that, bread, vegetables, fruits, frozen food, etc. etc. I also packed up some left over lunch and dessert for him so he could have it for dinner.
“As we said our goodbyes I told the young man that I had some things for him to take home and I gave him the three grocery bags. I will never forget the look on his face. He looked at me and tears started to fill his eyes – his lips started to quiver – his face turned red and he put his head down. I thought I did something wrong and I started to apologize. He said, ‘mom (that was my name for many students in BYU–Hawaii 3rd ward) I was on my way home to eat my lunch which was going to be half a packet of saimin noodles (the other half was going to be for tomorrow) but you stopped and invited me to lunch. For the last few days I have been eating saimin noodles (half a packet each day) because I don’t have any money for food. I am waiting for my check which will come on Thursday.’
“I took him in my arms and hugged him because he could not stop crying. He said that he prayed that morning and asked Heavenly Father to please help him. He kept thanking me for giving him food. We took him home.
“I learned a great lesson that day – listen to the whispering of the spirit – It will direct you to do good. I also learned that the Lord takes care of our needs through someone else. This student has moved on but we have remained friends.”

Recently, a young man in a wheelchair was referred to my office for counsel. He had been informed that he had a terminal illness. He desired a blessing and wanted to see a General Authority before he died. Elder Rector and I were talking with him when in came President Kimball. He had learned of the young man’s condition and came to spend a few moments with him. The President makes time for people.

Each Sunday in the Rennes Ward, Angers France Stake, Sister Delphine Letort, as Young Women president, provided a card to each young woman in attendance and asked her to select a peer who wasn’t at church and write to her. The young women wrote about the lesson that week—what they learned or what inspired them—as well as a friendly, personal note. Then Sister Letort or one of her counselors sent the cards in the mail to those who weren’t at church.
The activity was simple but effective, she says, not only as a way for those who weren’t attending to know that they were remembered but also for those who were writing the notes to be more mindful of each other.
“By small things great miracles come about,” she says (see Alma 37:6). “We have seen it manifested. The young women have been encouraged, and this experience has contributed to increasing their testimonies.”

Carlan snuggled in bed, fast asleep. She wore her favorite pajamas with elephants on them and held her favorite fuzzy bear.
Suddenly Carlan’s eyes flew open wide. “Scary, scary!” she yelled. She covered her face and started to cry.
Daddy came to the door. “Did you have a bad dream?” he asked. Carlan nodded, but tears kept rolling down her cheeks.
Daddy sat down on Carlan’s bed and started singing, “I love to see the temple. I’m going there someday.”
Carlan felt a little better. “Daddy, sing child of God, please,” she asked.
“I am a child of God, and He has sent me here,” Daddy sang.
When Daddy finished singing, he looked down to ask Carlan what song to sing next.
But Carlan was already fast asleep.

Samnang Sea from Cambodia went to BYU–Hawaii from 2002-2006 and graduated in Mathematics. He had planned to go to BYU Provo for his master’s degree, but during his last year, he met his wife who then just starting as a freshman. They were married in Hawaii in 2006.

He went on to pursue both a master’s and Ph.D. degree and had a well-paid teaching job in a school which sponsored his work visa and later obtained permanent residency in the United States. Life was very comfortable, but because of the promptings of the Holy Ghost, he returned home in 2013 with his wife and three sons. That’s when he met his in-laws for the first time. He was offered a wonderful teaching position in Siem Reap but declined it as he felt that the Lord had a different direction for him. He is now a Bishop and works for the Church as the Service Center Manager for the Cambodia office. Their sons are now 11, 8 and 6 years old. Their youngest, a girl, now 2 years old, was born in Phnom Penh.

“I hated being in the hospital, and I felt like I was in prison,” says Diane. For one month of the five she was in the hospital, she was in traction and couldn’t move at all except when the nurses came in and turned her a few centimeters every two hours. Diane had no idea she’d be in the hospital for so long. “In fact, when I was first injured I thought for sure that in a month I’d be back on the tour. I thought, ‘If I have enough faith and believe in God and in myself, I’ll be okay.’ And I just knew it.”

Recovery wasn’t quite so easy though, and things seemed to get worse. “I was a horrible patient,” says Diane. “In the hospital I was really miserable because I was so restless. I was really impatient with people.” Finally Diane came to a turning point.

“One day I was in the depths of despair. I just felt like I couldn’t bear it anymore,” Diane says. She asked for a priesthood blessing. She knew the power to heal her was present, “but I only wanted that to happen if it was Heavenly Father’s will. I had this blessing and I felt the greatest sense of peace. It was like I knew that no matter what happened it would be okay. If I didn’t walk away from the hospital there would be a reason for it. I knew that I had always tried my best to live the gospel and do what I was supposed to do, so if anybody was worthy to have that blessing, I was. But from that point on I was a different person. I was totally comforted.”

At a recent extended family home evening, our grandchildren were having a wonderful time. A six-year-old grandson became very upset when his father said it was time to go home. So what did this dear boy do? He came to me and said, “Grandfather, may I have your permission to disobey my father?”
I said, “No, sweetheart. One of life’s great lessons is to learn that happiness comes through obedience. Go home with your family, and you will be happy.” Though disappointed, he dutifully obeyed.

“I have seen that promise fulfilled in my own life and in the lives of others. A friend of mine served as a mission president. He told me that at the end of every day while he was serving, he could barely make it upstairs to bed at night wondering if he would have the strength to face another day. Then in the morning, he would find his strength and his courage restored. You have seen it in the lives of aged prophets who seemed to be renewed each time they stood to testify of the Lord Jesus Christ and the restored gospel. That is a promise for those who go forward in faith in their priesthood service.”

I learned about those realities from a wise teacher nearly 25 years ago. I spoke in an ancient theater in Ephesus. Bright sunlight flooded the ground where the Apostle Paul had stood to preach. My topic was Paul, the Apostle called of God.
The audience was hundreds of Latter-day Saints. They were arranged on the rows of stone benches the Ephesians sat upon more than a millennium before. Among them were two living Apostles, Elder Mark E. Petersen and Elder James E. Faust.
As you can imagine, I had prepared carefully. I had read the Acts of the Apostles and the Epistles, both those of Paul and his fellow Apostles. I had read and pondered Paul’s Epistle to the Ephesians.
I tried my best to honor Paul and his office. After the talk, a number of people said kind things. Both of the living Apostles were generous in their comments. But later, Elder Faust took me aside and, with a smile and with softness in his voice, said, “That was a good talk. But you left out the most important thing you could have said.”
I asked him what that was. Weeks later he consented to tell me. His answer has been teaching me ever since.
He said that I could have told the people that if the Saints who heard Paul had possessed a testimony of the value and the power of the keys he held, perhaps the Apostles would not have had to be taken from the earth.
That sent me back to Paul’s letter to the Ephesians. I could see that Paul wanted the people to feel the value of the chain of priesthood keys reaching from the Lord through His Apostles to them, the members of the Lord’s Church. Paul was trying to build a testimony of those keys.

There once was a prince in Thailand who wanted a rare white elephant to ride through the city so he could show everyone that he was as rich as other princes. However, though he sent men into the jungle to hunt, he was unable to obtain such a rare animal. At last he proclaimed that he would give a hundred pieces of gold to anyone who could find a white elephant for him.
In a village not far from the prince’s castle there lived a potmaker who, hoping to receive the reward, went to the prince.
“My neighbor is a famous washerman,” the potmaker told the prince. “He washes the whitest clothes in the world. Even the king sends clothes to him. If you give him a gray elephant, I am sure he can wash it white.”
The prince was excited when he heard this and he sent for the washerman at once.
“One hundred pieces of gold will be yours if you can wash my gray elephant so it is white,” the prince told the washerman.
“But your highness … ,” protested the washerman.
“Say nothing more,” replied the prince. “Go now and prepare. I will bring you the elephant tomorrow.”
The next day the prince brought a gray elephant to the village where the washerman and the potmaker lived.
“I will need a large pot in which to bathe the elephant,” said the washerman.
“Very well,” the prince agreed, “I will ask the potmaker to make one.”
So the potmaker was ordered to make a large pot. He was very frightened, because he had never made such a large pot before. He asked his relatives and friends to help him, and together they worked all day and all night until the pot was finished.
With the prince and all of the villagers watching, the washerman prepared to wash the elephant. He poured water into the pot and led the elephant up to it. But when the elephant put one leg into the pot, the pot broke into a thousand pieces!
The prince was angry. He ordered the potmaker to immediately make a stronger pot.
After many days of hard work, the second pot was ready. The elephant put one leg inside the pot. Nothing happened. Then the second leg went inside, and the pot broke into a hundred pieces!
The angry prince ordered a new pot to be made at once.
In a few days the third pot was ready. The elephant put one leg into it, and nothing happened. Another leg went in, and nothing happened. Finally the whole elephant was inside the pot, and still it did not break. Everyone cheered.
Then the washerman began to make a fire to heat the water in the pot.
“I must now have hot water to scrub the gray color off the elephant,” explained the washerman to the prince.
But the water remained as cold as ever.
“Your highness,” said the washerman, “the water does not get hot because the pot is too thick. I need another pot.”
This made the prince furious. Turning to the frightened potmaker, he cried, “If you do not have the right pot ready in three days, I will throw you into prison.”
Three days later when the prince returned, he was surprised to find the village deserted except for some old women and children who told him that the rest of the villagers had gone to bathe in a nearby river. Hurrying there in anger, the prince found the potmaker, the washerman, and the other villagers scrubbing their hair with all of their might.
“What on earth are you doing?” cried the prince.
“We are trying to wash our hair white,” answered the villagers.
“You must be fools! You cannot turn your hair white by washing!” replied the prince scornfully.
Then the washerman said, “If we cannot turn our hair white by washing, how do you expect me to turn your gray elephant white by washing?”
Then the prince realized that what he had asked the washerman to do was impossible. And sadly he took his gray elephant home.

When Peter returned after completing his mission, he quickly began the routine of work and visits to the hospital as he continued with corrective surgery. At this time, he was called to serve a stake mission. In this capacity he met the secretary to the stake mission president, Marjorie Clegg of Tooele, Utah. They became good friends, and Peter started arranging dates for her with his friends. Finally, after having had too many dates arranged for her, Marjorie asked him to please not arrange any more dates for her. Peter asked her for a date for himself. Based on a foundation of friendship, the relationship grew into love, and they were married.
Except for the very first time Marjorie met me, she never seemed to notice my burns. I’m very much aware of people noticing that I’m different. I’ve never noticed that Marjorie ever thought me any different on the outside than she found me on the inside. She makes me feel very handsome. I love her not only because she’s my sweetheart, but because she’s my very best friend. She is the girl I prayed for who would take me for what I am on the inside. That’s what I needed because I couldn’t get very far using the outside.

A few weeks ago while in Idaho reorganizing a stake presidency, I not only met some outstanding priesthood leaders and set three of them apart as a new stake presidency, but I also met a very special young lady I will not soon forget. The newly called presidency, one of whom was serving as a bishop at the time, asked if I could interview a prospective bishop so if he were cleared he could be installed the following Sunday after conference. The appointment was made. I sat in a private office with a well-groomed, attractive couple.
After a few words of greeting and introductions, I looked at her and said, “Tell me about your husband.” She hesitated and finally said, “Elder Ashton, I really don’t know him very well.” Since this was a most unusual response, I promptly said, “Please tell me about that.” She responded with, “We have only been married three weeks.”
This young couple, both in their early thirties, he an attorney and she a schoolteacher by profession, were still honeymooning, and their deep, newly found love for each other was most evident. When I said, “I want to talk to the two of you about your husband becoming a bishop,” she said, “Some nights ago I had a dream indicating Randy would be a bishop. I just hoped it wouldn’t come too soon.” She continued with, “Even though we are newlyweds [and incidentally, they told me the reason they had waited until their thirties to marry was because they had spent a long time finding each other] if you are impressed to call Randy to be a bishop, he will be a good one, and I will help him.”
What a beautiful attitude. What sustaining support. Her commitment to her husband, Church, and self was made long before I asked my questions. She had resolved to choose the good part, reminding me of the meaningful statement made about Mary in Luke 10:42: “One thing is needful: and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her.”

Many years ago, I observed a heartbreak—which became a tragedy. A young couple was nearing the delivery of their first child. Their lives were filled with the anticipation and excitement of this monumental experience. During the delivery, complications arose and the baby died. Heartbreak turned to grief, grief turned to anger, anger turned to blame, and blame turned to revenge toward the doctor, whom they held fully responsible. Parents and other family members became heavily involved, together seeking to ruin the reputation and the career of the physician. As weeks and then months of acrimony consumed the family, their bitterness was extended to the Lord. “How could He allow this horrible thing to occur?” They rejected the repeated efforts of Church leaders and members to spiritually and emotionally comfort them and, in time, disassociated themselves from the Church. Four generations of the family have now been affected. Where once there were faith and devotion to the Lord and His Church, there has been no spiritual activity by any family member for decades.

The Schuhmachers were a fine, young couple with two children. Although Mr. Schuhmacher had a deeply ingrained smoking habit, he was trying to overcome it, and both he and his wife had expressed an interest in receiving the missionary lessons. After they had received the first two or three discussions, we invited them to attend church with us, the next Sunday being fast Sunday.
We took them to Sunday School and afterwards asked them how they enjoyed it. Their response was quite enthusiastic. The next step appeared to be obvious: urge them to stay for fast and testimony meeting. With some reluctance, they agreed. The meeting was extremely spiritual but extended to nearly two hours, and we could see their young children becoming very restless.
After the meeting, we inquired how they had enjoyed testimony meeting. Now the reply was less enthusiastic; in fact, it was rather cool as Mr. Schuhmacher replied: “That’s too much church for one day. We hadn’t planned on being gone that long. After not having attended our own church for several years, today’s been too much for us!”
We were disappointed when they informed us they’d prefer to come to church on their own initiative next time.

I wonder what you would do, as students, if you had all the time you wanted—if you had all the time and the means just to study. I quote from Dr. Edwin A. Lee, former dean of the School of Education at UCLA, speaking at the inauguration of Howard S. McDonald as president of Brigham Young University:

While I was an undergraduate at Columbia University, there was a man in attendance already known as the perennial student. He had been left a modest but adequate bequest with a stipulation that it should continue as long as he was engaged in collegiate study: thereafter, the income was to be given to charity.

When I returned for graduate work twelve years later, he was still there, and he remained a student until he died just a few years ago. It was said that he had been granted every degree offered by Columbia and had taken practically every course. He was a man who was the epitome of erudition. No field of knowledge was foreign to him. He was probably more widely read than the best of his professors. He was a cultured gentleman. But, he was not a truly intelligent man. Certainly such intelligence as he possessed was not that which is the glory of God. Inherently he was selfish. He never married. He was without ambition or influence. He was a joke to the students and a freak to the faculty. He knew a prodigious lot, but his real index of intelligence was low, no matter what his I.Q.