Gospel Story Finder

Let me tell you a story about a young man who faced just this question. Mark is not a real person, but his story is based on real experiences.

After his first year at BYU-Idaho, Mark served a mission in Brazil. When he returned, his high school sweetheart Carol convinced him to move to Cedar City, Utah, where she was attending SUU on an athletic scholarship. Mark transferred to SUU, but things did not work out like he had hoped. After dating for three months, Carol told Mark she was not happy with their relationship and thought they ought to date other people.

Mark was hurt and confused, but he did not give up. Since he really loved Carol, he continued to talk with her and finally convinced her to see him again. Their relationship picked up and over the next few months went really well. At least that is what Mark believed. In fact, Mark thought things were going so well he bought a ring and proposed to Carol.

On the night Mark proposed, Carol was surprised and upset. She turned Mark down and said things that really hurt Mark. Carol told him that she could see she would not be happy with him, that there were other guys she had met she wanted to date, and that it was time to move on. Mark was humiliated, frustrated, and angry; and he said some things in anger to Carol he should not have said.

Mark finished out the year at SUU, but he was unhappy and uncomfortable. It seemed to him that everything about SUU reminded him that Carol was the only reason he moved to Cedar City. He decided to return to BYU-Idaho.

In the first year Mark returned to BYU-Idaho, he moved in with some old friends from his old ward; but he did not date anyone. He was still angry and hurt. He doubted himself and was deeply afraid of rejection. Instead of fading with time, the anger he felt toward Carol festered. The pain and self-doubt and fear were like a dull ache in his heart. He was moody and cynical (especially about girls). He let his calling in the ward and his home teaching slide, and his roommates grew worried about him.

His roommates finally convinced Mark to go see the bishop. As he sat in the bishop's office that day, he knew that he should forgive Carol for the pain she had caused him, put his life in order, and get on with finding an eternal companion. But all of that seemed way too hard. It was as if he stood on one side of a great canyon needing to get to the other side, with no way across.

This was precisely what Mark needed. He had already planted the seed. He had served a mission and felt his testimony of the Savior grow. In his service to the Lord, the seed had sprouted and begun to grow; but it was not yet the magnificent tree of which Alma speaks. In fact, since the problems with Carol had festered, the young tree in Mark had stopped growing. Mark needed the tree to grow again and bear fruit. He needed to partake of the divine nature. He needed the gift of a merciful and forgiving heart, which he did not have.

In the Lord's framework, the first step in the growth of the tree is desire. Please turn with me to Alma, chapter 32, verse 27:

Whether you are planting the seed for the first time or trying to rekindle growth in the tree, desire is the beginning. For Mark the critical question was: Do you want to forgive Carol? Do you want to be rid of the anger and the pain and everything that you are feeling?

As Mark focused his mind and heart on what he really wanted, he realized he was sitting in the bishop's office because he wanted the anger and the pain to go away. It was the beginning of a desire to forgive.

With that beginning, Mark needed to take the second step and "give place" in his heart to the word of the Lord about forgiveness and the Atonement. The Lord said, "Of you it is required to forgive all men."[17] He also said, "I am Jesus Christ the Son of God. . . for behold, by me redemption cometh."[18]

To "give place" in his heart for these words, Mark needed to see himself with the eye of faith as a new person-forgiving Carol-rid of the anger and the pain through the power and mercy of the Lord Jesus Christ. For Mark to see himself with the eye of faith, he not only needed to imagine the tree growing and bearing fruit, but he needed to acknowledge in his mind and feel in his heart that it could happen. This is the beginning of hope.

This process did not happen all at once for Mark. There were more visits with the bishop, much prayer, and much searching of the scriptures. But there came a point where he really did see himself with the eye of faith. He began to see that the gift of forgiveness was possible. At that point, Mark took the third step: he kept his heart open to the Spirit. Alma's powerful promise in verse 28 became a reality. If you, too, will keep your heart open to the possibility of new growth, the Holy Ghost will cause the word of God to "enlarge [your] soul; . . . enlighten [your] understanding, . . . [and it will begin] to be delicious to [you]."[19]

Just as life-giving moisture in soil makes the young tree put out new roots and branches, the Holy Ghost makes the word of God come alive in the prepared heart. Let me give you an example of the word of God about the power of the Atonement and forgiveness.

Jesus suffered for our sins. But He also suffered our infirmities, our weaknesses, our pain, our humiliation, our self-doubt, our fear, and the effects of our anger. And He overcame them all. Everything we have suffered and are suffering, He suffered and overcame. This means that Mark did not need to carry the burden of fear, pain, and anger anymore. Jesus Christ, who has all power in heaven and in earth, who heals all wounds, would take the burden. Mark could give it to Lord; in fact, the Lord already had it.

When this thought took hold in Mark's heart, it was truly delicious to him. His understanding increased, and he began to see and feel light coming into his life. There was greater hope than before, because the Word is true.

Mark had come a long way; but there was much, much more to do. The young tree had begun to grow, but it needed much more care. This was the fourth step: nourishing the tree with great care. Here is Alma again (verse 37):

Since we are growing a tree, it means there must be a sustained period of nourishing and cultivating before there will be fruit. And it means also that the nourishing must be done with "great care." It is not easy to grow a fruit tree. But if it gets root and grows strong, the tree will bear fruit for a long, long time.

"Nourishing with great care" involved three things Mark's young tree needed to continue to grow and bear fruit.

First: A Fertile Heart

A fertile heart is a heart that is open to the Savior, ready to make new commitments of faith and righteousness. It is a heart where deep desires to be good and to do good combine with an attitude of willing obedience. It is a heart prepared to change.

A barren heart is full of the rocks and dense clay of pride, selfishness, lust, and greed. It is a heart committed to anger and sin and disobedience.

Mark's heart was open to the word of the Lord, but there were pockets of rocks and clay beneath the surface of his heart. His pride and the anger he had harbored toward Carol had hardened his heart. He had stopped being of service to others, and he had stopped feeling close to the Lord. The only way for the young tree to grow was for Mark to break up the rocks and the clay. Mark needed a broken heart. He had to change. Mark had to exercise his faith in Christ and repent of his lack of service and the pride, anger, and cynicism in his heart.

Mark learned something we all must learn: repentance is essential to the growth of the tree and its gifts of Christlike virtue. We all have in our hearts rocks and clay we need to break up. As we seek to become more like Christ, we all need to change. We all need hearts that are broken and spirits that are contrite. We all need to repent.

Second: Nourishment of the Spirit

The young tree began to grow in Mark's heart because the Holy Ghost made the word of God come alive in him. Growth will continue only with the continued nourishment of the Spirit. The Holy Ghost knows exactly what Mark needs to receive the gift of forgiveness and mercy. Through the "unspeakable gift of the Holy Ghost,"[22] Mark can receive increased faith and trust in God; deeper knowledge and understanding of the Atonement; feelings of love, peace, comfort and reassurance; increased empathy for others; and an increased testimony of the Savior. These are the nutrients Mark's young tree needs to grow and bear its precious fruit.

Mark knew from his mission and other experiences that to have the Spirit with him he needed to pray always with real intent, to feast on the words of Christ, to keep the commandments, and to do nothing that would drive the Spirit away. Mark's bishop reminded him of these things and also taught him that service to others would bring the Spirit into his life. The bishop promised that the Lord would bless Mark with a forgiving heart if Mark would act on the promptings of the Spirit to serve others.

Third: Deep and Extensive Roots

Mark's young tree needed to sink many roots down deep in his heart. Deep and extensive roots anchor the tree, protecting it against the winds and storms of life. Deep roots secure the nourishment an abundance of fruit will require. But deep and extensive roots also protect the soil of the heart, keeping us safe from floods of anger or despair or temptation and binding our commitments and desires to the Lord.

With a fertile heart and nourishment of the Spirit, the young tree can begin to take root. But Mark can act in faith to strengthen and deepen those roots. He can begin with his roommates, making sure the old cynical, angry, moody Mark does not reappear, watching carefully to be kind to them, to serve them, and to forgive them. He can love and serve others he knows. Here is an example:

Acting on a prompting, Mark decided to go see Bill, one of the students Mark home taught. Bill had never gotten along very well with Mark, but Mark made the visit. Mark arrived just in time to help Bill clean up a big mess caused by a flooding dishwasher. (Bill had put liquid dish soap in the machine.) That experience was an important lesson in forgiveness and the beginning of a great friendship.

It took time and "all diligence"[23]; but with much prayer, repentance, and service, Mark's heart began to change. The old cynicism and anger began to disappear. In its place came light and joy and confidence in the Lord. It was not easy. It did not happen quickly, but the "great and precious promises"[24] came true. Through the ministry of the Holy Ghost, the power of the Atonement worked in Mark according to his faithfulness. He received the gift of a merciful and forgiving heart. Mark nourished the tree, and he tasted its fruit.

The day came when Mark called Carol and apologized to her for his angry words those many months ago and sought her forgiveness. Carol told Mark she was sorry for the pain she had caused him, and Mark was so happy that he could say to her in all sincerity of heart that he had forgiven her and wished for her nothing but the best.

They’ll tell you about the many years when the Saints met in a dilapidated old building high on a hillside. It was held to the mountain by a metal cable running right through the chapel. The members called it their iron rod. Once the roof caved in during Mutual, narrowly missing several people. Snakes sometimes found their way into one of the classrooms, and were gently carried out, giving rise to neighborhood rumors about strange LDS forms of worship. In the wintertime the members sat huddled in blankets listening to blanket-wrapped speakers and teachers. Each gospel truth came out in a puff of white mist. When it came time to move to a nicer building, the youth of the ward did their part with several fund-raising hot dog sales.

As Ryan was participating in a school quartet, he found that the song selected for the group to sing had lyrics he objected to. Ryan talked to the teacher about changing the words, but the teacher became angry. Ryan was hurt by the teacher’s reaction. After school, the teacher asked to speak to him and apologized for getting upset. “She said that what I had done took courage,” said Ryan. “She said she admired me for standing up for what I believed in and that she was willing to work with me because she really wanted me in the quartet.”

More than 50 years ago during World War II, I had an experience. Our bomber crew had been trained at Langley Field, Virginia, to use the latest invention—radar. We were ordered to the West Coast and then on to the Pacific.

We were transported on a freight train with boxcars fitted with narrow bedsprings that could be pulled down from the wall at night. There were no dining cars. Instead, camp kitchens were set up in boxcars with dirt floors.

We were dressed in light-colored summer uniforms. The baggage car got sidetracked, so we had no change of clothing during the six-day trip. It was very hot crossing Texas and Arizona. Smoke and cinders from the engine made it very uncomfortable. There was no way to bathe or wash our uniforms. We rolled into Los Angeles one morning—a grubby-looking outfit—and were told to return to the train that evening.

We thought first of food. The 10 of us in our crew pooled our money and headed for the best restaurant we could find.

It was crowded, and so we joined a long line waiting to be seated. I was first, just behind some well-dressed women. Even without turning around, the stately woman in front of me soon became aware that we were there.

She turned and looked at us. Then she turned and looked me over from head to toe. There I stood in that sweaty, dirty, sooty, wrinkled uniform. She said in a tone of disgust, “My, what untidy men!” All eyes turned to us.

No doubt she wished we were not there; I shared her wish. I felt as dirty as I was, uncomfortable, and ashamed.

Later, when I began a serious study of the scriptures, I noticed references to being spiritually clean. One verse says, “Ye would be more miserable to dwell with a holy and just God, under a consciousness of your filthiness before him, than ye would to dwell with the damned souls in hell.”

I could understand that. I remembered how I felt that day in Los Angeles. I reasoned that to be spiritually unclean would bring shame and humiliation immeasurably more intense than I felt then. I found references—there are at least eight of them—which say that no unclean thing can enter the presence of God. While I realized those references had little to do with dirty clothes or soiled hands, I decided I wanted to stay spiritually clean.

Incidentally, that day we went canoeing in Griffith Park. We were horsing around and, of course, tipped over. We got to shore all right, and in due time the sun dried us out. By the time we returned to the train, we were really quite presentable.

I learned that when I didn’t live as I ought to, getting myself spiritually clean was not as easy as taking a shower or putting on clean clothing or falling out of a canoe.

I learned about the great plan of happiness, that we are on earth to be tested. We will all make mistakes. The Apostle John taught, “If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.” Fortunately he added, “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” I paid particular attention to that word cleanse.

I thought that repentance, like soap, should be used frequently. I found that when I apologized for mistakes, things were better. But for serious mistakes, an apology was not enough—sometimes not even possible. While these mistakes were, for the most part, not major ones, the spiritual pain called guilt invariably set in. Sooner or later they must be resolved, but I didn’t know what to do. That happens when you break something that you alone can’t fix.

Among you young people are those who are “vexed,” as Peter said, “with the filthy conversation of the wicked.” Some of you joke about standards and see no need to change behavior. You tell yourselves it doesn’t matter because “everybody’s doing it.”

But that doesn’t work because you, by nature, are good. How many times have you heard someone say, after doing some generous or heroic deed or simply helping others, how good it made them feel? Like any natural feeling or emotion, that reaction is inborn in you. Surely you have experienced that yourself! Happiness is inseparably connected with decent, clean behavior.

The prophet Alma bluntly told his wayward son that because he transgressed he was “in a state contrary to the nature of happiness” and that “wickedness never was happiness.” Those who don’t know how to erase mistakes often feel cornered and rebellious and lose themselves in unworthy living. If you travel with transgressors, you will suffer much more than I did in that restaurant.

Most mistakes you can repair yourself, alone, through prayerful repentance. The more serious ones require help. Without help, you are like one who can’t or doesn’t wash or bathe or put on clean clothes. The path you need to follow is in the scriptures. Read them and your faith in Christ will grow. Listen to those who know the gospel.

You will learn about the Fall of man, about the purpose of life, about good and evil, about temptations and repentance, about how the Spirit works. Read what Alma said of his repentance: “I could remember my pains no more; yea, I was harrowed up by the memory of my sins no more.”

Hear the Lord say, “Behold, he who has repented of his sins, the same is forgiven, and I, the Lord, remember them no more.” Doctrine can change behavior quicker than talking about behavior will.

It was through reading the scriptures, and listening, that I could understand, at least in part, the power of the Atonement. Can you imagine how I felt when finally I could see that if I followed whatever conditions the Redeemer had set, I need never endure the agony of being spiritually unclean? Imagine the consoling, liberating, exalting feeling that will come to you when you see the reality of the Atonement and the practical everyday value of it to you individually.

You need not know everything before the power of the Atonement will work for you. Have faith in Christ; it begins to work the day you ask! The scripture speaks of “obedience to the laws and ordinances of the Gospel.” We all pretty well know what it means to obey laws. But how are we to obey ordinances?

Generally we understand that, conditioned upon repentance, the ordinance of baptism washes our sins away. Some wonder if they were baptized too soon. If only they could be baptized now and have a clean start. But that is not necessary! Through the ordinance of the sacrament, you renew the covenants made at baptism. When you meet all of the conditions of repentance, however difficult, you may be forgiven and your transgressions will trouble your mind no more.

President Joseph F. Smith was six years old when his father, Hyrum, was killed in Carthage Jail. Joseph crossed the plains with his widowed mother. At age 15 he was called on a mission to Hawaii. He felt lost and alone and said: “I was very much oppressed. … I was almost naked and entirely friendless, except the friendship of a poor, benighted … people. I felt as if I was so debased in my condition of poverty, lack of intelligence and knowledge, just a boy, that I hardly dared look [anyone] in the face.”

While pondering his plight, the young elder had a dream, “a literal thing; … a reality.” He dreamed he was on a journey rushing as fast as he possibly could.

He carried a small bundle. Finally he came to a wonderful mansion, his destination. As he approached, he saw a notice, “Bath.” He turned aside quickly, went in, and washed himself clean. He opened his little bundle and found clean, white clothing—“a thing,” he said, “I had not seen for a long time.” He put them on and rushed to the door of the mansion.

“I knocked,” he said, “and the door opened, and the man who stood there was the Prophet Joseph Smith. He looked at me a little reprovingly, and the first words he said [were]: ‘Joseph, you are late.’ … I took confidence and said:

“‘Yes, but I am clean—I am clean!’” And so it can be with you.

I say to you again that a knowledge of the principles and doctrines of the gospel will affect your behavior more than talking about behavior.

I have used the Atonement as one of many examples. In the gospel of Jesus Christ are values on which to build a happy life.

I give you my testimony that our Father in Heaven lives. The Atonement of Christ can bless your life. If only I could tell you what the Atonement means to me. I once tried to express it in writing and close with these lines:

In ancient times the cry “Unclean!”
Would warn of lepers near.
“Unclean! Unclean!” the words rang out;
Then all drew back in fear,
Lest by the touch of lepers’ hands
They, too, would lepers be.
There was no cure in ancient times,
Just hopeless agony.
No soap, no balm, no medicine
Could stay disease or pain.
There was no salve, no cleansing bath,
To make them well again.
But there was One, the record shows,
Whose touch could make them pure;
Could ease their awful suffering,
Their rotting flesh restore.
His coming long had been foretold.
Signs would precede His birth.
A Son of God to woman born,
With power to cleanse the earth.
The day He made ten lepers whole,
The day He made them clean,
Well symbolized His ministry
And what His life would mean.
However great that miracle,
This was not why He came.
He came to rescue every soul
From death, from sin, from shame.
For greater miracles, He said,
His servants yet would do,
To rescue every living soul,
Not just heal up the few.
Though we’re redeemed from mortal death,
We still can’t enter in
Unless we’re clean, cleansed every whit,
From every mortal sin.
What must be done to make us clean
We cannot do alone.
The law, to be a law, requires
A pure one must atone.
He taught that justice will be stayed
Till mercy’s claim be heard
If we repent and are baptized
And live by every word. …
If we could only understand
All we have heard and seen,
We’d know there is no greater gift
Than those two words—“Washed clean!”
In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Recently I was running a little late to church and hurried into the chapel during the opening hymn. When I walked into the chapel, I saw that it was fuller than normal. As I looked around at the numerous visitors, I realized two things: it was our ward’s Primary program, and my usual spot was taken.
I hurriedly took a seat on the first row of chairs in the overflow seating just in time to see a young mother arrive with her two-year-old son in tow and her six-month-old daughter in her arms. I noticed that her husband didn’t follow her in. When I glanced around the chapel, I saw that he was on the stand, sitting at the piano—he was the accompanist for the Primary.
Because I am single, I usually sit with a particular friend. But that day my friend was out of town. I thought it might be nice to sit with the young mother and her children instead, so I asked if I could join them. The mother agreed. Throughout the meeting I enjoyed helping with the young boy and listening to the Primary children.
At the end of sacrament meeting, the mother leaned over and said she had prayed for me that morning. I waited for her to elaborate. She said she had prayed that I would be at church and that I would sit with her and help her. She had thought she might not be able to make it through sacrament meeting by herself. I felt overwhelmed that I had answered her simple prayer, offered just that morning.
I know that the Lord loves us more deeply than we can truly comprehend. Witnessing an answer to a simple request taught me a powerful lesson, and I am sure the experience taught this mother as well. When I asked if I could sit with this sister, I wasn’t thinking about being the answer to a prayer—I was just doing what I would want someone to do for me if I were in her situation.
Truly Heavenly Father hears and answers our prayers, even the seemingly small ones.

Let me give an example. My first attempt at becoming like Heavenly Father was to try to control my moods. I had noticed that occasionally I came home from work tired and unhappy. When I brought those feelings into the home, I was not being a good husband and father. I decided that I would be growing more like the Lord if I could come home daily to my wife and children cheerful and pleasant. I freely chose—and wanted—to try to do that. I acted on that choice and discovered, through experimentation, that I could change my mood. One little device I used to help me was to pick a building five minutes away from my home. On my way home from work, that building was a signal for me to turn my thoughts to my family and how anxious I was to see them. I consciously remembered fun times playing with my children or being with my wife. Or I would review in my mind the rewarding things about being a husband and a father. These things were effective for me. I can now come home cheerful most of the time. And I have felt the approval of the Lord for my effort, a tremendous motivation in itself for making and acting on other decisions to be more like God.

Grace, a widow with short brown hair and shining eyes, was first. Her day hadn’t gone exactly as planned, she told us. She awoke with a terrible head cold—the first time in more than three years she had been ill. In revising her plans for the day, she decided to put together a scrapbook about her mother’s life, something she had been thinking of doing for a long time. Grace asked her sister to help, and they worked together to reconstruct their mother’s life story in pictures and words. It took most of the day, but the end result was a cherished scrapbook.
Grace found that her activities on that day opened up a new avenue to her. Her patriarchal blessing had said that she would work on her family history. “Because I didn’t understand family history, I just couldn’t get really interested in it,” she confessed. “But after doing my mother’s book, I decided to do one about my husband who died recently.”
She has since compiled histories of her husband, her son, and her daughter. “By cleaning out all the boxes of treasures and mementos I had been storing for years, I’ve found enough information to do the temple work for many of my ancestors,” she says. “I can see my work is just beginning. And I’m happy to do it.”

I’m trying to read the whole Book of Mormon before I turn eight. In family home evening my dad talked about setting goals, so I decided to read three pages a day to meet my goal. Sometimes I take my Book of Mormon to school so I can read it during silent reading. My friends have asked me about the Book of Mormon, and I have been able to tell them about it. I’m happy that we can have the scriptures to read and share with others.
Emily S., age 7, Texas

In the fall of 1935 Amelia took a position with Purdue University as counselor in careers for women. The young people loved her and she became the idol of the campus.
Purdue honored Amelia with a variety of special gifts, including a Lockheed Electra, a plane that would seat ten passengers.
“I’m so overwhelmed with all this,” Amelia exclaimed. “It doesn’t seem possible! I’ll have to repay you for all of these gifts.”
Amelia soon decided that the logical way to repay everyone was to make a truly spectacular flight. She began making plans to fly completely around the globe, following an equatorial route. By March of 1937 all was ready. Amelia took off with Captain Manning as navigator. But trouble with the landing gear sent the Lockheed Electra back to California for repairs after the second stop. When the plane was repaired, Amelia and a different navigator, Fred Noonan, flew across the continent to Miami, Florida. Meeting with reporters, she said, “I have a feeling that there is just about one more good flight left in my system, and I hope this is it. After it is over, I plan to give up major long-distance flights.”
At about six o’clock on the morning of June 1, 1937, Amelia climbed into the Electra at Miami Airport. The plane zoomed across South America, over Africa, and on over Asia. Amelia and Noonan were eagerly welcomed everywhere they landed.
Setting down at Lae, New Guinea, Amelia and Noonan prepared for their final long flight. Their route was to take them to Howland Island, twenty-five hundred miles away in the Pacific, back to Honolulu, and then on to California. America was planning a gala homecoming.
The first few hours after takeoff from Lae were ideal. Then trouble began. It seemed as though nature threw all her obstacles at the two fliers—rains, fogs, and squalls pelted the aircraft.
Then, when the Lockheed should have been close to Howland Island, the Coast Guard picked up Amelia’s frantic message. “Cannot hear you. … Please take a bearing on us and answer. …” The small aircraft was having radio trouble and could not hear the Coast Guard. A final message came. “Circling … cannot see island. … Gas is running low … running north and south. …”
Then silence.
A nation mourned the loss of a brave lady and her copilot whose watery grave and its location still remain a mystery. But Amelia would have chuckled at the numerous earthbound monuments built in her honor since her disappearance. For her true monument is the sky.

When I was 11, my Primary teacher in France gave me a Book of Mormon. We put a date on each page as a reading calendar. I started reading one page each day. But quickly I got so excited about my readings that I was ahead of schedule most of the time. Sometimes I read in the car when going to or from church or on vacation. I finished reading the Book of Mormon much sooner than was expected.
I felt like an expert on the battles between the Nephites and the Lamanites. My heroes were Mormon, Captain Moroni, Ammon, and the 2,000 stripling soldiers. I made drawings about the battles. I gained a testimony that the Book of Mormon is not just a story—it is a real history.
I started with the history, and then I added spiritual knowledge. The Holy Ghost testified to me that the Book of Mormon was written by prophets under the inspiration of God. That’s how I gained a testimony of Jesus Christ, the restored Church, and Joseph Smith. It all started with the Book of Mormon. I am grateful for my Primary teacher. Sometimes we don’t know what kind of seeds we plant, but over time we will see the beautiful trees and fruits that have grown.

When we were last here, we were days from leaving for an undetermined length of time in Africa. The effects of change were about to descend upon us. In March of 2007, President Monson called us into his office with the intent, we assumed, to tell us where our next assignment would be. After visiting with us for nearly an hour he stood, telling us how much he had enjoyed our visit and signaling that the visit was about to conclude. As we walked towards the door he said, "Did I mention where you are going?" We answered no; we didn't think so. "Oh, you are going to Africa." With those six words, he changed our lives forever.
Just to give you an idea of how big a geographic change this was to us, Sister Koelliker had never in her entire life lived outside her zip code. Now at age sixty-five, we found ourselves in Johannesburg South Africa. There isn't a zip code that is further from Salt Lake City than Southeast Africa.
Prior to Africa, we had lived in a world of temples for ten years, having worked with President Hinckley to build seventy-two new temples, for a total of 124 operating temples under the direction of the Temple Department. Our every waking hour seemed to be about temples. Now we were going to a land where there was just one temple. This was for us a total change.

I had the experience one day of coming back to Salt Lake City on an airplane after a conference. A young man whom I had never seen sat in the seat in front of me. He recognized me, I suppose, from some of the pictures he had seen. He spoke to me and told me he was returning to his home in Detroit. He had graduated from Brigham Young University and had gone on to another school to get his MBA. He was a junior employee in the department in which he was employed at the Ford Motor Company. He had been chosen by his department head to represent the company at a very important meeting on the west coast. There were many men his senior in the department; they were furious that a junior man would be invited to go to such an important convention. It was a real plum professionally. The department head told one of them why he had chosen this young man. He said, “I know he will not embarrass the company. He won’t go out and get drunk. He’ll go out and take care of himself and represent us properly. That’s why I chose him.” You see, integrity can mean many things in the way of success in our lives.

As part of a special activity, the youth in my ward planned to do baptisms for the dead. As the day approached, we discovered that our planned time at the temple fell on the day of our high school homecoming football game. A group of us wanted to attend both, and we figured we could hurry through the baptisms and then go straight to the game.
But after arriving at the temple, we found there was a delay. Those of us who were planning to go to the game began to feel anxious and just wanted to do the baptisms so we could leave.
As I sat there thinking how I wished things would go a little faster, I suddenly became very aware of my surroundings. I began listening to the soft hymns being played and noticed how peaceful everything around me seemed. As I watched the girl ahead of me enter the font, I suddenly thought of those people for whom she was being baptized. They had waited perhaps hundreds of years to receive this blessing. What an amazing, profound, and important thing for them! How fortunate I was to be able to offer them this great gift. How could I want to rush through this for a mere football game?
I began to see how foolish and silly I was to want to hurry. I felt ashamed that I had ever felt that way. I wasn’t in a hurry any longer. In fact, I didn’t care anymore if I even made it to the game. After all, what really matters in the eternal perspective anyway—a person’s salvation or a football game? I knew I would never take this kind of opportunity for granted again.
As it turned out, we made it back for the last half of the game. I think our team lost. I can’t really remember. But what I do remember is the happiness and gratitude I felt for the opportunity to be in the Lord’s house, doing that great service.

Permit a personal experience for just a moment. Strengthening one’s brother, I think, comes closer to home when we think of fellowshiping and friendshiping our family. Some time ago when my youngest daughter was faced with the reality of attending a different school, she looked forward to the new experience with great anticipation and excitement but with the usual anxieties and concerns. Her mom and dad tried to make her experience meaningful, and one that would be positive, and we spent several hours attempting to prepare her mind for the new experience. We even planned a time when we could shop for new clothes and other special school supplies.
Finally, the long-awaited day arrived. A special evening was planned to help give spiritual comfort and guidance. Later she put her clothes out in anticipation of the next day. As she retired to her bed, seemingly all was well, but about an hour later she appeared at my study door where I was making some preparations.
“Dad,” she said, rubbing her tummy, “I don’t feel very well.”
You know the sign; and I thought I understood it, so I invited her in and sat her on my lap. We put on a little music that we liked to listen to together. I rubbed her tummy, and she soon fell asleep. I took her back upstairs, placed her in her bed, tiptoed toward the door; and she broke the silence with the announcement, “I am not asleep yet.”
I went back and lay down on the bed with her, stroked her head, gave what fatherly counsel one could under the circumstances, and reassured her. Finally she fell asleep. The next morning she appeared at breakfast in her petticoat. She said, “Dad, I don’t think I had better go to school today.”
I said, “Why not?”
She said, “I think I am going to get sick.”
You know what she was trying to tell us, don’t you? I don’t know how to handle a new situation, Dad. Will I make friends? Will my teacher like me? Will I fit into the social group? Will I be accepted? These are the concerns that all of us experience, as we find ourselves in new and different social situations.
She knew what my answer would be and agreed to have me drive her to school. As we got in front of the school building, the warning bell sounded. The tears started to come to her eyes. I got out of the car and assisted her. We walked about ten feet, and she grabbed hold of my leg. It was as though she were a tackle on some football team. And then, as only a child can do to a father, she looked up at me and said philosophically, “Dad, if you really love me—if you really love me—don’t send me in there.”
I said, “Honey, this may be beyond your comprehension, but it’s because I do love you that I am taking you in there.” And I did. When we got inside the door, she grabbed hold of the other leg and held on. Numerous students came and went, and finally the little miracle happened that changed everything.
From I don’t know where came a delightful, wonderful friendshiper, a fellowshiper who knew how to lose herself in serving others; one who would now take the admonishment of the Savior to strengthen her friends. With the exuberance of youth this little girl said, “Kellie, how are you?”
“Fine.”
“What is your home room?” And she told her. “Tremendous. I had that home room last year. Come on, and I will take you to it.”
And before Kellie knew it, she had let go of my leg and got about ten paces away, then realized what she had done. I will never forget her expression and the sermon she taught as she looked back. “Oh,” she said, “Dad, you can go now; I don’t need you anymore.”
Thank God for the little people as well as the big people who know how to friendship and fellowship.

Miss Fee pointed to the enormous paper tree hanging on the back wall of the fifth grade classroom. “What’s missing?” she asked.
“Leaves,” our class chanted together.
“You’re going to help it grow leaves,” she said as she held up a green paper maple leaf. “Each leaf has a place on it to write the name of a book, its author, and what it is about.”
Some of the kids started groaning, but Miss Fee kept smiling. “It’s going to be a contest,” she said.
“Whoever reads the most books this week and collects the most leaves will win first prize.”
Now she had our attention. Everyone likes contests, especially when there’s a prize.
“First prize is a gift certificate for a large pizza,” the teacher said, and the class started cheering.
“Quiet down, please,” Miss Fee instructed. She gave us the rules on how long the books had to be, and what kinds would be included.
I walked home after school with Susan. We each had checked out a couple of books to read.
“You’ll probably win,” Susan said. “No one reads books as fast as you do.”
“I love reading,” I said. “Once I get started, I can’t stop. In fact, Mom usually has to tell me to shut off the light and go to sleep at night.”
“Look!” Susan whispered to me. “Look at Robert.”
Up ahead, Robert carried a stack of six books. He didn’t have many friends. His shirts were a little too big and worn, and his pants had patches on them. He sat by himself at lunchtime and didn’t ever talk to anyone. Robert ignored all the kids, even when they teased him.
“Do you think you’re going to win?” Susan asked him, laughing.
Robert glanced up at us, then looked down again and hurried past us.
“Let’s go,” I said. I didn’t feel right provoking him, but I didn’t want to admit it.
The next night I stayed after school and headed for the library. I wanted to get a couple of books on fishing, which is the thing I love best, next to reading. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Standing in front of the fishing books was Robert, holding one about trout.
“That’s a good book,” I whispered. “I read it last week.”
Robert nodded and didn’t say anything. I think he was almost afraid of me.
“I want to get a book about making flies,” I added. “Dad said he’d help me learn how to tie one.”
Robert hesitated a second, then bent over and pulled a slim volume out from the bottom shelf. “This is the best book about that,” he said softly. “It helped me a lot.”
“Do you know how to tie flies?” I asked, surprised.
“My grandpa is teaching me. We both like fishing.”
“Me too,” I said. It was a good feeling to find someone else who liked the exact same thing. Susan didn’t like fishing.
“Getting lots of reading done?” I asked as I took the book he offered.
“I’m trying to,” Robert said. He paused for a second. “I want to win the contest so that I can take my mom out for a pizza and surprise her. It’s her birthday this Saturday.”
“That’s a neat idea,” I agreed. “Good luck.”
The next morning, I found a wadded up piece of paper in my desk. I almost tossed it out, when I saw the note:
To Mike,
My Grandpa tied this for you.
Robert
I opened up the crumpled paper, and inside was an artificial fly. I picked it up and examined how it had been expertly put together. After math class, I stopped Robert in the hallway. “Thanks,” I told him. “I can’t wait to try it out.”
Robert smiled. “My grandpa’s taking me fishing along Silver Creek Saturday morning. You’re welcome to come with us.”
Before I could say yes or no, Susan walked up. “Come on,” she said. “I want to show you the book I found about dinosaurs.”
I know I should have said something to Robert, but I didn’t want Susan to start teasing me, so I walked away. My stomach felt funny for the rest of the day whenever I thought about it.
On Friday afternoon, Miss Fee declared the contest over. She asked everyone to get out their completed leaves.
“Who has more than five?” she asked. Eleven hands went up in the air.
“How about more than ten?” Only four hands stayed up.
“More than twelve?” Just Robert and I still had our hands up.
“How many leaves do you have?” Miss Fee asked Robert.
“Fourteen,” Robert said proudly. I could see that everyone in the class was surprised.
At that moment, I decided what I wanted to do. I slipped one leaf back into my desk, and when Miss Fee asked me, I said I had thirteen. I guess I wanted Robert to win more than I wanted myself to. I could imagine him telling his mom about the pizza and how happy they’d both be.
When Miss Fee gave Robert the gift certificate, everyone started clapping. I clapped the loudest. After school, I waited by the front door for him.
“Dad said I could go fishing with you tomorrow if you still want company,” I told him.
Right then Susan came walking up. “We’re going fishing tomorrow,” I told her before I chickened out.
“Don’t you want to come over and play basketball?” she asked.
“Tomorrow afternoon, if I get my chores done after I get home,” I said. “I have to try out this new fly.” I took it out of my pocket to show her.
“Did you make that?” Susan asked.
“Robert’s grandpa made it. I’m going to ask him to show me how.”
“Think he’d show me?” she asked.
“Of course,” Robert said. Then he smiled and waved at us. “I have to get home and tell my mom about our pizza date.”
I waved and smiled too. Robert had the gift certificate, but I still felt like I had won first prize.

Let me illustrate with an experience shared by President Henry B. Eyring about his father, Henry Eyring.

To appreciate this story, you have to realize that it occurred when [my father] was nearly eighty and had bone cancer. He had bone cancer so badly in his hips that he could hardly move. . . .

Dad was the senior high councilor in his stake with the responsibility for the welfare farm. An assignment was given to weed a field of onions, so Dad assigned himself to go work on the farm.

Dad never told me how hard it was, but . . . [one man who was there] said that the pain was so great that Dad was pulling himself along on his stomach with his elbows. . . . The pain was too great for him to kneel. Everyone who has talked to me [about that day] has remarked how Dad smiled and laughed and talked happily with them as they worked in that field of onions.

Now, this is the joke Dad told me on himself afterward. He said he was there at the end of the day. After all the work was finished and the onions were all weeded, someone asked him, “Henry, good heavens! You didn’t pull those weeds, did you? Those weeds were sprayed two days ago, and they were going to die anyway.”

Dad just roared [with laughter]. He thought that was the funniest thing. He thought it was a great joke on himself. He had worked through the day in the wrong weeds. They had been sprayed and would have died anyway.

When Dad told me this story, I knew how tough it was. So I said to him, “Dad, how could you make a joke out of that? How could you take it so pleasantly?”

He said something to me that I will never forget, and I hope you won’t. He said, “Hal, I wasn’t there for the weeds.”

[President Eyring concluded:] Now, you’ll be in an onion patch much of your life. So will I. . . .

But you didn’t come for the weeds.

In the same year, Dr. Hansen made his medical discovery, two ecclesiastical leaders from different faiths first made their appearance on the Kalaupapa peninsula. One was a Latter-day Saint named Jonathan Hawaii Napela, the other a Belgian priest, Father Damien J. De Veuster, who was canonized by the Roman Catholic Church in 2009. Napela was born on the island of Maui in 1813, became a district judge in 1848, and converted to Mormonism in 1852. He was a tremendous aid to early LDS missionary work on the Hawaiian Islands as he fed and housed the elders, helped them learn his native language, and aided George Q. Cannon with the translation of the Book of Mormon. Perhaps his greatest contribution was his example as a loving husband. When his beloved wife Kitty contracted the disease, Jonathan chose to remain with her in the settlement and act as her kokua, a Hawaiian word meaning “helper.” Consequently, Jonathan wrote a heart-felt letter in his native language, Hawaiian, to the Board of Health, pleading that he might be allowed to stay with his wife:

"On August 3, 1843 I took my wife as my legally married wife and on that same day I vowed before God to care for my wife in health and sickness, and until death do us part…. I am 60 years old and do not have much longer to live. During the brief time remaining, I want to be with my wife. My wife has also lived a long life, but with this disease, it will quickly shorten her life. Such is the reason for this petition."4

Fortunately, Jonathan’s request was granted, and he spent the remaining years of his life at Kalaupapa with Kitty. While there, Napela more than just his wife. Not long after his arrival, he was called as the leader of the LDS Church on the Kalaupapa peninsula, a calling he held from 1873 until his death in 1879, from the effects of Hansen’s disease.5

So, the next step is finish school. You don't want to be a professional student. My father always told me that I should be a man in a hurry to finish my education and get on with my life's work. While you are finishing your education, you need to already have a plan developed for what you are going to do with your degree. It is a matter to be prayerfully considered and a joint decision if you are married. Once you make the plan, you need to stick with it. When we got married, our plan was that I would work a year after graduating from BYU-Hawaii and then go to law school. As I was ending my year off from school, I told my wife that maybe I should just continue to work as it seemed that I was making pretty good money. I will forever be grateful to my wife for encouraging me to stick with our original plan and not delay going to law school. It was probably the most important family decision we made.

One day I watched an interview with Brother Tad R. Callister, who was then the Sunday School General President. As I took notes, I had an impression on how to heal my relationship with my son, John. I was impressed that we should read the entire Book of Mormon together prior to his baptism six months later.
This impression was so clear that I even knew which room we should read in and at what time we should read. I also felt a distinct impression that we should finish our reading on the grounds of the Meridian Idaho Temple.
As we took time to read one-on-one each night, our relationship sweetened. We had more patience for each other, we better understood each other’s perspectives, and we regularly felt the presence of the Holy Ghost.
The night before we finished the book, we read Moroni’s promise that if we ask God with a sincere heart, with real intent and faith in Christ, if the Book of Mormon is true, we will know the truth of it by the power of the Holy Ghost (see Moroni 10:4–5). We felt the confirmation that the Book of Mormon is true, that Joseph Smith was a prophet, and that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the kingdom of God upon the earth.
The next day we sat on a bench on the temple grounds. We looked up at the statue of angel Moroni and read again his final testimony. Since that day, John has mentioned on multiple occasions the time we read the Book of Mormon together at the temple. Now every time I attend the temple, I see the bench and reflect on the special moment John and I had when we completed our inspired goal.

I remember the day my father died, my mind was somewhat in anxiety and turmoil. I returned home, sat in my favorite chair, and picked up the scriptures. I read a little, then closed my eyes. In my mind’s eye I saw my father as a young man, and he was dressed in white. Although he had never become a member of the Church, I knew I would see him in the resurrection and, furthermore, I had seen him as he would appear. My mind was at peace again. When we rely on the Lord, we can have fulfillment of his promise, “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: … Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid” (John 14:27). He is “The Prince of Peace” (Isa. 9:6).