Gospel Story Finder

When I was young, our little family lived in a one-bedroom apartment. I slept on the couch in the living room. More than anything else in the world, I wanted to be an athlete. I did everything I was told might help me. While some of the advice I received was questionable, I tried it anyway, just in case it might help. I was advised not to eat chocolate, so I didn’t eat chocolate. I remember being told not to drink soda pop because it would “cut your wind.” I never drank soda pop. I was also told to sleep with the windows wide open to get plenty of fresh air, so all year long I slept with the windows open.
My dad, a steelworker, left home for work very early each day. Every morning he would quietly close the windows I had opened in the living room; then he would tuck the covers around me and stop for a minute. Often, half-dreaming, I would sense my dad standing beside the couch, looking at me. As I pretended to sleep, he would bow his head and quietly pray with all his attention, energy, and focus—for me.
Each morning he would pray that I would have a good day, that I would be safe, that I would learn and prepare for the future. And since he could not be with me until evening, he would pray for the teachers and my friends that I would be with that day.
In junior high and high school, I reached my dream to be an athlete. I played football and baseball. Our football games were usually played on Friday evenings. My father now worked out of town during the week. But each Friday afternoon, he left work and drove six or seven hours to make it to every one of my games. He never arrived in time for the start of the game, but the coaches would leave a sideline pass at the gate for him. I knew that sometime during the first half, I would look up and there he would be on the sideline, watching me. Then after church on Sunday afternoons, he would have to turn around and drive back to work.
At first, I didn’t really understand what my dad was doing those mornings when he prayed for me. But as I got older, I came to sense his love and interest in me and in everything I was doing. It is one of my favorite memories. It wasn’t until years later, after I was married, had children of my own, and would go into their rooms while they were asleep and pray for them, that I understood completely how my father felt about me.

During the January 2017 worldwide devotional for young adults, I challenged those watching to increase their testimony of the Savior by taking time each week to:
Study everything Jesus said and did as recorded in the Old Testament.
Study His laws as recorded in the New Testament.
Study His doctrine as recorded in the Book of Mormon.
Study His words as recorded in the Doctrine and Covenants.
I promised those listening that if they would proceed to learn all they can about Jesus Christ, their love for Him and for God’s laws would grow beyond what they could currently imagine.
What I didn’t mention during this address was that I knew this promise was true because I was in the midst of completing this very same assignment myself for the first time.
On December 1, 2016, I obtained a new set of scriptures and proceeded to begin the same assignment that I would later extend to young adults in January. When I finished the assignment six weeks later, I had looked up and marked more than 2,200 citations from the four books of scripture.1
After six weeks of study, President Nelson completed his assignment.
For me, to be able to accomplish this assignment was just thrilling!
Something I found to be most insightful was that the Savior was telling us about Himself through these various periods of time—Old Testament, New Testament, the Restoration period, and our day. In all books of scripture, the story is the same and the Storyteller is the same.
I have devoted much of my 93 years to learning about the Savior, but rare are the occasions when I have been able to learn as much as I did over this six-week study period. In fact, I learned so much about Him from this study that I am planning to share much of it in other upcoming addresses that I am currently preparing.2
Upon beginning this assignment, I didn’t expect that this study would help me to receive a new testimony of the divinity of the work of Joseph Smith—but it did! The revelations recorded by Joseph Smith and the insights found in the Bible are amazingly consistent. It was so enlightening for me to see this in my study.
Joseph Smith wouldn’t have possibly had time to correlate and cross-reference with the Bible at the rapid rate at which he was translating the Book of Mormon—but it’s all here!
So not only do I now have a greater testimony of the Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, but I also have a reaffirmation of my absolute conviction that the system Joseph Smith had for translating the Book of Mormon was a gift from God.
President Nelson studied over 2,200 scriptures about Jesus Christ and His teachings.
Now, I realize some of you are probably thinking to yourselves that you couldn’t possibly have time to complete an assignment like this.
I know how you feel. I thought the same thing of myself—that there’s no way I can have time to do all of this. I needed to remind myself that a comment like this is not a faith-promoted comment. A faith-promoted comment would be “I know I don’t have time for this, but I’m going to make time for it. And I’ll fulfill it with what time I have.”
Each of us who takes this challenge will finish in our own time frames. For me, much of the joy of this came from getting it all done in just six weeks. This intense study over a relatively short period of time allowed me to appreciate the complementary nature of the learnings to be found in the Old Testament, the Book of Mormon, the New Testament, and the Doctrine and Covenants.
To those of you who feel you don’t have time, if you will make a sacrifice, you will be well rewarded and very, very grateful for the change of perspective, increased knowledge, and improved depth of your conversion. I know this is true because I have seen the same rewards in my own life.

They might, however, have been less impressed had they ventured out of the heart of the city into the residential area. For all of its bustle, the little city of 20,000 Saints and gentiles was still a country town. Neat brick or plastered adobe houses set well back in fenced lots lined the streets. Each lot included space for a garden, fruit trees, shrubs, chicken houses, and a barn for a horse and buggy and, in many cases, a cow. Loose livestock wandering the city streets was a chronic nuisance; in the midst of April conference that year, a cow was found prostrate on North Temple Street in the 18th Ward area. After two days, the Deseret News editor reported that “the cow … has gone the way of all cows, at last, but did not go quite far enough to please the good people of that immediate neighborhood. The present state of weather will soon render the carrion a disagreeable source of annoyance and complaint.” (DN, April 10.)

No one seemed to take the matter of bovine intruders too seriously until a cow lumbered in at the front door of a local restaurant and became stuck between the tables, unable to move forward and unwilling to move backward. At this point, the city council passed an ordinance declaring that after June 7, 1880, all cows found running at large would be impounded by the city. (DN, June 4.)

Eventually, this solved the problem, though for a time indignant cow owners simply kept their animals penned until the marshall had made his rounds at night, then turned them loose to forage at will. (DN, June 11.)

The Veranos’ struggles with faithfulness were not yet over, however, and neither was the loving work of others in fellowshipping them.
A fine home teacher, George Baker, helped keep them active in the Church, Brother Verano recalls. Unused to attending church meetings three times a day, beginning with priesthood at seven A.M., Brother Verano was ready to quit. The early meetings were difficult because he was working from midnight to six A.M. But Brother Baker, who could not go himself, arranged for someone to drive the Veranos to ward meetings, and kept them coming.
The Veranos’ spirituality grew as they faithfully attended meetings and obeyed gospel principles.

Compromising on differences will reduce some of the sibling strife. God creates only unique individuals—no two alike. Differences are not always respected. For example, Cathy was very much involved in student government and scholastic endeavors. Her sister, Barbara, was a cheerleader and a member of her high school’s volleyball and track teams. A barrier built up between the sisters as each looked upon their own activities as being most important. Each downgraded the activities the other enjoyed. Barbara loved to dance; Cathy thought a movie was better. Barbara loved loud, upbeat music; Cathy was more into relaxing tunes.

Instead of comparing themselves to each other and thinking the other’s interests weren’t worthwhile, they eventually began to search for the less obvious things they had in common. Both enjoyed stake dances. Both liked jogging. Both hated washing the car. They learned to accept and respect their differences and to encourage each other to excel in their individual pursuits.

I have felt deeply about the Atonement of Jesus Christ since I was quite young, but the reality of the Savior’s Atonement came home to me when I was 25. I had just graduated from Stanford Law School and was studying for the California bar exam. My mother called and said that my grandfather Crozier Kimball, who lived in Utah, was dying. She said if I wanted to see him, I had better come home. My grandfather was 86 and very ill. I had a wonderful visit. He was so pleased to see me and share his testimony with me.
When Crozier was just three years old, his father, David Patten Kimball, died at age 44. Crozier hoped that his father and his grandfather Heber C. Kimball would approve of his life and feel he had been true to his heritage.
My grandfather’s primary counsel to me was to avoid any sense of entitlement or privilege because of these faithful ancestors. He told me my focus should be on the Savior and the Savior’s Atonement. He said we are all children of a loving Heavenly Father. Regardless of who our earthly ancestors are, each of us will report to the Savior on how well we kept His commandments.
Grandpa referred to the Savior as the “Keeper of the Gate,” a reference to 2 Nephi 9:41. He told me he hoped he had been sufficiently repentant to qualify for the Savior’s mercy.
I was deeply touched. I knew he had been a righteous man. He was a patriarch and served several missions. He taught me that no one can return to God by good works alone without the benefit of the Savior’s Atonement. I can remember to this day the great love and appreciation Grandpa had for the Savior and His Atonement.

After a busy week of serving as a worker in the Stockholm Sweden Temple, I went to the guesthouse laundry room to wash some clothing. As I loaded the washer, I absentmindedly whistled one of my favorite hymns, “High on the Mountain Top” (Hymns, number 5). This hymn and its reference to people “in distant lands” hearing the gospel and serving the Lord has always resonated with me. I have always felt that I am one of those the hymn refers to because I was born in Denmark, where I was converted to the gospel, and moved to Utah with my family at age 14.
As I was going about my chores, a Russian brother who was attending the temple that week walked in. As he did, I ceased whistling. He immediately started whistling the same hymn I had been whistling. When he stopped, he pointed to me. I whistled from where he had left off.
He then started at the beginning of the hymn once more, pointed to me, and stopped whistling. Neither of us could speak the other’s language, hence all the pointing. But I managed to understand what he wanted, and I started at the beginning as he had done. He whistled a beautiful harmony to my melody.
There we stood—a Russian and an American—face to face, whistling in two-part harmony one of the most beautiful hymns of the Restoration. We did not get all the way through it before tears filled our eyes. Finally, we could not go on. We embraced and he uttered the only English words I heard him speak: “Russian duet.”
I think we both felt an overwhelming gratitude for the gospel of Jesus Christ, which breaks down cultural and geographic barriers. Our beliefs and our commitment made it possible that we, both from different “distant lands,” could stand as brothers in the gospel in yet another land and share a moment of joy, proclaiming together as the hymn says, “High on the mountain top / A banner is unfurled. / Ye nations, now look up; / It waves to all the world.”

Heavenly Father has answered my prayers many times since then. When one of my own sons was about 10, Heavenly Father saved our lives. I had my pilot’s license and was flying some friends from St. George, Utah, to Grand Junction, Colorado, so they could visit their family. I invited my son Michael to come along for the ride.

To get to Grand Junction, we needed to fly over some very high mountains. We were flying 15,500 feet in the air in a twin-engine plane. We were a little more than halfway there when the propeller of my left engine started racing out of control, so I had to shut it down and boost maximum power to the other engine. But even after that we started losing altitude, heading downward at about 200 feet per minute, and we still had one last mountain range to fly over.

As we got closer, I could see that the plane was sinking below the top of the mountain, and that we weren’t going to make it over. In my heart I was praying that Heavenly Father would guide me through this. I started to look around for a place to make an emergency landing, but there was nowhere to land the plane safely.

Right then, words came into my mind that told me to start the damaged engine. At first I ignored them, because I was afraid that if I turned the engine on, it would race out of control again and maybe even blow apart. But the words kept coming back to me: “Start the engine!” I then realized that if I turned the engine on just a tiny bit, the wind would be able to easily pass through the propeller and not drag the plane down as much. The minute I turned on the engine, the plane started to climb. We cleared that last mountain pass with less than 50 feet between us and the treetops. We finally landed safely at the airport. That taught me a real lesson in life—to pay attention to what Heavenly Father is trying to tell you through the promptings of the Spirit.

While in Oklahoma, I had the opportunity to meet with a few of the families devastated by the mighty twisters. As I visited with the Sorrels family, I was particularly touched by the experience of their daughter, Tori, then a fifth grader at Plaza Towers Elementary School. She and her mother are here with us today.
Tori and a handful of her friends huddled in a restroom for shelter as the tornado roared through the school. Listen as I read, in Tori’s own words, the account of that day:
“I heard something hit the roof. I thought it was just hailing. The sound got louder and louder. I said a prayer that Heavenly Father would protect us all and keep us safe. All of a sudden we heard a loud vacuum sound, and the roof disappeared right above our heads. There was lots of wind and debris flying around and hitting every part of my body. It was darker outside and it looked like the sky was black, but it wasn’t—it was the inside of the tornado. I just closed my eyes, hoping and praying that it would be over soon.
“All of a sudden it got quiet.
“When I opened my eyes, I saw a stop sign right in front of my eyes! It was almost touching my nose.”
Tori, her mother, three of her siblings, and numerous friends who were also in the school with her miraculously survived that tornado; seven of their schoolmates did not.
That weekend the priesthood brethren gave many blessings to members who had suffered in the storm. I was humbled to give Tori a blessing. As I laid my hands on her head, a favorite scripture came to mind: “I will go before your face. I will be on your right hand and on your left, and my Spirit shall be in your hearts, and mine angels round about you, to bear you up.”
I counseled Tori to remember the day when a servant of the Lord laid his hands on her head and pronounced that she had been protected by angels in the storm.

Growing up in Thailand, I sometimes felt like the odd one out as a Christian. But even though I believed differently than most of the people around me, I never felt ashamed or wanted to give up the gospel of Jesus Christ. I always loved the truths it taught me, and I did my best to follow them.

But then tragedy struck my family. And for the first time in my life, I really had to choose, develop, and hold on to faith in one of the cornerstones of the gospel—God’s plan of salvation.

In 2014, my family and I were sealed in the Hong Kong Temple. I had waited for this day for so long and was so excited. But shortly after we were able to experience this beautiful ordinance, my father passed away unexpectedly.

I was struck with terrible, overwhelming grief. I didn’t know how my family and I would be able to cope with the loss of my dad. It felt like a whole piece of us was gone. How could we endure life without him?

In this dark time, as I turned to Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ for comfort, I learned how to deepen my testimony of the plan of salvation and eternal families.

I had always been taught and believed that families could be together forever. But facing a difficult loss really shook this part of my testimony. I wanted and needed to know that I would see my dad again one day. I began to want to learn more about the doctrine of eternal families.

President Henry B. Eyring, Second Counselor in the First Presidency, recently taught:
“It is through the sealing covenants in the temple that we can receive the assurance of loving family connections that will continue after death and last for eternity. …
“Trials, challenges, and heartaches will surely come to all of us. … Yet, as we attend the temple and remember our covenants, we can prepare to receive personal direction from the Lord.”

And it’s true! When I was struggling so much to feel the love of Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ in my life after my dad died, studying this comforting covenant and blessing helped me see small inklings of Their love and light again.

Our temple sealing became even more meaningful to me after my dad passed away. And I realized that all covenants Heavenly Father invites us to make and keep are beautiful privileges for us.

Covenants aren’t just simple promises—they are the key to helping us invite the power of the Savior into our lives. They allow us to keep moving and hoping, despite the heartbreak and challenges of life. Because of the greater access I have to Jesus Christ’s healing power, I can endure to the end with joy, knowing that I’ll see my dad again.

As President Eyring promised, “‘No matter the outcome, all will be well because of temple covenants.’”

I’m so grateful for the gospel of Jesus Christ and the continuous hope and peace it brings, especially when I need peace in times of uncertainty and loss. I still feel grief, but my covenants warm my heart and help me keep going with hope.

I recently spoke with a faithful man who shared with me the deepest feelings of his heart. In a meeting, I had just explained the difference between being called to the work and assigned to labor. This good brother shook my hand and with tears in his eyes said to me, “The things you helped me learn today have lifted a burden from my shoulders that I have carried for more than 30 years. As a young missionary, I was initially assigned to a field of labor in South America. But I was unable to obtain a visa, so my assignment was changed to the United States. All these years I have wondered why I was unable to serve in the place to which I had been called. Now I know I was called to the work and not to a place. I cannot tell you how much this understanding has helped me.”

My heart ached for this good man. As I have taught these basic principles throughout the world, countless individuals have expressed privately to me the same sentiment as the man I just described. I am addressing this subject today because not a single member of this Church should carry an unnecessary burden of misunderstanding, uncertainty, anguish, or guilt about an assignment to labor.

“Wherefore, go ye and preach my gospel, whether to the north or to the south, to the east or to the west, it mattereth not, for ye cannot go amiss.” As you ponder the words of this scripture and open your heart, I hope and pray you will invite the Holy Ghost to carry deep into your soul the understanding, the healing, and the restoring you may need.

When I turned 18, I was definitely happy about it. What teenager isn’t? Sure, I was still in high school, still had acne, and still had to do chores around our family’s house in California, USA, but I was an adult. I was entering a whole new stage of life, and I was excited about it. What I wasn’t exactly excited about was the idea of being with all the “old ladies” in Relief Society. They had kids and careers and Crock-Pots and probably liked to bake pies in house slippers. I had homework and swim meets and blue nail polish and liked to avoid cleaning my room for as long as possible. How could I possibly relate to anyone there? I was sure it was going to be awkward, lonely, and boring. And then I went.
First of all, Relief Society wasn’t at all boring. There was a ton of smiling and laughter. They shared interesting and heartfelt comments, but they weren’t afraid to laugh either. Second of all, they weren’t that different from me. Sure, they were older than me, but they were joking around with each other the same way my friends and I did. More than once, someone asked the exact question I had been wondering. And when they announced the enrichment meeting that week, I was shocked. They were learning self-defense! I wanted to do that!
I was super nervous when Sister Larsen, the Relief Society president, asked me to stand and introduce myself, but that wasn’t bad either. Everyone was beaming at me. Sister Edwards, my sophomore seminary teacher, gave me a thumbs-up, and Sister Richards, who remembered me from Primary, said she couldn’t believe I was already “all grown up.” And they really treated me like I was “all grown up.” I felt like a little kid playing dress-up, but to most of the women that day, I was a new sister.
Since then, I’ve loved Relief Society, no matter what ward I’m in. As soon as I walk into a Relief Society room, I can feel it: that sisterly bond and sense of belonging. I love doing my best to uplift my Relief Society sisters and learning all I can from them.
And as it turns out, I’m pretty good at baking pies.

An example of a child listening happened in a fabric store. The store was crowded with shoppers when it became obvious to everyone that a mother was panicked because she had lost her young son. At first, she was calling his name. “Connor,” she would say as she briskly walked around the store. As time passed, her voice got louder and more frantic. Soon the store security officers were notified, and everyone in the store was involved in looking for the child. Several minutes passed with no success of finding him. Connor’s mother, understandably, was becoming more frantic by the minute and was rapidly yelling his name over and over again.

One patron, after saying a silent prayer, had the thought that Connor may be frightened as he listened to his mother scream his name. She mentioned this to another woman involved in the search, and they quickly made a plan. Together they began to walk between the tables of fabric, quietly repeating the words “Connor, if you can hear my voice, say, ‘Here I am.’” As they walked slowly toward the back of the store repeating that phrase, sure enough, they heard a timid, soft voice say, “Here I am.” Connor was hiding between the bolts of fabric under a table. It was a voice of perfect mildness that encouraged Connor to respond.

Here is another example:
A single mother of two small children recently came down with chicken pox. Of course, it wasn’t long before her children got sick as well. The task of caring for herself and her little ones alone was almost too much for the young mother. And, as a result, the normally spotless house became cluttered and messy. Dirty dishes piled up in the sink, and laundry piled up everywhere else.
While she was struggling with crying children—and wanting to cry herself—a knock came at the door. It was her visiting teachers. They could see the young mother’s distress. They could see her house, her kitchen. They could hear the cries of the children.
Now, if these sisters had been concerned only with completing their assigned monthly visits, they might have handed the mother a plate of cookies, mentioned that they had missed her at Relief Society last week, and said something like, “Let us know if there is anything we can do!” Then they would have cheerfully been on their way, thankful that they had 100 percent for another month.
Fortunately, these sisters were true disciples of Christ. They noticed their sister’s needs and put their many talents and their experience to work. They cleared up the chaos, brought light and clarity into the home, and called a friend to bring over some much-needed groceries. When they at last finished their work and said their good-byes, they left that young mother in tears—tears of gratitude and love.
From that moment on, the young mother’s opinion of visiting teaching changed. “I know,” she said, “that I am not just a check mark on someone else’s to-do list.”

During general conference in 2001, President Gordon B. Hinckley introduced the Perpetual Education Fund. I needed the opportunities that such a program offered so I could lift myself economically, but I wondered whether I could meet the program’s requirements.
During sacrament meeting a few months later, our stake president spoke about the program. To my great surprise, I learned that I might qualify after all. I thought to myself, “This is my last chance. I can’t pass it up.”
I then began to consider the responsibilities the program would require of me, and I feared that I would fail and once again fall short in Heavenly Father’s eyes. But I overcame these thoughts, and gathering information from the local institute director, I applied. Considering my past, I had little hope that I would be accepted. I felt that I did not deserve such a blessing even though I had repented and returned to church.
When I received a positive response from Church headquarters, my family and I rejoiced. The amount granted was not enough for the entire academic year, but I went ahead and registered for a major in computer programming. I received high grades and earned a scholarship that paid for the rest of my schooling.
Since then I have done everything in my power to show my gratitude. I work hard, I study hard, and I fulfill my responsibilities in the Church. I attend institute classes to try to make up for the years I missed and to learn what the Lord expects of me.
The most important thing I know is that I have been forgiven for all the bad things I did in the past. All of my plans for the future are based on this knowledge. I will continue to help my family, but now I will be able to do so in a better manner.

When Spencer was four months old, I took him to our local hospital for an appointment. As I unloaded him from the car, I saw two people exiting the hospital. In disbelief, I realized it was William and his mother.
“William!” I called out when we got closer, my heart pounding.
“Hi!” He ambled across the parking lot, a wide grin lighting up his face. He thrust out his hand and grasped mine in an enthusiastic handshake.
“How are you?” I asked him.
“Violin,” he said, the excitement shining in his eyes.
Violin. He remembered me too. “Yes,” I choked out through a teary laugh, “I played the violin.”
As we spoke, my heart rose in prayer for the tender mercies of a loving Father in Heaven who knew how much I had wished to meet William again. I am grateful that God saw me—a struggling young mother overwhelmed with my son’s health problems and worried for his future—and gave me an experience that reminded me that He is aware of us.

When President M. Russell Ballard set me apart as the new president of the Provo Utah YSA First Stake, he provided a simple and specific assignment: “Go visit your leaders and members in their homes and apartments!” That was it; he gave no other training or assignments.
Coordinating our efforts with our bishops, we started on Tuesday, two days after our stake conference. As we ministered in our stake, we made mistakes, missed opportunities, and often thought, “I could have said that better” or “I wish we had asked a better question.”
Brigham Young University President Kevin J Worthen observed that “failing is a critical component of our eternal progress—our quest for perfection. And because of the Atonement we can—if we respond to failures in the right way—be blessed with a new kind of learning that allows our failures to become part of the perfecting process.”4
This was our experience as we learned to minister to the leaders and members of the stake and to others we met. As we continued ministering, the Lord began to put more and more people in our path.
On one occasion, one of my counselors, J. B. Haws, and I were walking between apartment complexes when we met a young man in the parking lot. We stopped to say hello and found out that he was moving out of our stake. We talked for a moment and discovered that he was a returned missionary facing questions about his faith. My counselor is a master teacher who connects with people easily. Answering questions like these was natural and normal for J. B. I could see in this young man’s eye a light that may have been missing for some time reappear as they talked.
It was obvious that J. B. was interested in him and in his questions and concerns. The young man opened himself up because J. B. showed compassion. My counselor’s “bowels were filled” with love, and he had a desire to understand this young man without judging him. J. B. asked if we could visit him once he settled into his new apartment. The young man nodded, mobile numbers were exchanged, and a promise to follow up with him was made.
Before we left, we asked if there was anything we could do to help. He said, “Stopping to say hello was one of the most important things you could have done for me today.” Later that evening, I thought to myself, “If J. B. and I had not been out ministering, we may never have met this young man.”
It seems the Lord knew that we would be ministering that evening, so He placed this young man in our path—trusting we would see him and minister to him.
When we desire to minister to all as we go about our daily lives, the Lord will place people in our paths because He trusts us that we will look up from our mobile phones, take a moment to smile at a stranger, or ask a question from someone we have met in the market or wherever we find ourselves at school, work, or church.
Image from Getty Images
Looking back on the Savior’s example in 3 Nephi, I discovered an important principle about ministering. As you will remember:
“It came to pass that when he had thus spoken, all the multitude, with one accord, did go forth with their sick and their afflicted, and their lame, and with their blind, and their dumb, and with all them that were afflicted in any manner; and he did heal them every one as they were brought forth unto him.
“And they did all, both they who had been healed and they who were whole, bow down at his feet, and did worship him; and as many as could come for the multitude did kiss his feet, insomuch that they did bathe his feet with their tears” (3 Nephi 17:9–10; emphasis added).
Notice that those ministering brothers and sisters who helped bring those they knew and loved closer to Jesus Christ also found themselves at the Savior’s feet, bowing, worshipping, and kissing and bathing His feet with their tears.
As we minister to all, we will see Christ healing emotional, spiritual, and physical wounds. And as we invite others to “come and see” and “come and help” in natural and normal ways, we will find our own wounds being healed too.

It was now possible to think about organizing a trip to the temple for the members of the Reykjavík Branch. There was much preparing to be done—in addition to becoming worthy for temple recommends, branch members had to do genealogical research to find family names, and they had to save money for the trip. When whole families were planning to go, this became a sizable amount!

“There was a wonderful excitement, an extra amount of love and care shown among the members as they prepared for this experience,” recalls district president Ólafur Einarsson. “It brought a feeling of unity to the branch that we had not felt before.”

The necessary preparations were completed, and 38 members of the Reykjavík Branch—adults and children—journeyed to the London Temple in June 1995. For a week, they devoted themselves to the work of the Lord. “It was an unforgettable experience to see the joy on the faces of our group as the Spirit touched our hearts,” recalls one branch member. “The love and kindness we felt toward one another continued to grow as we shared the joy of our temple experiences.” They returned to their homes and families with strengthened testimonies and a renewed love of the gospel.

As the Church becomes stronger, the saga of the Saints in Iceland continues. In June 1996—still filled with memories of their experiences the previous year—some of the members of the Reykjavík Branch made a second trip to the London Temple. There, they once again were blessed to participate in holy ordinances as they renewed their covenants with the Lord—in the language of their Viking ancestors.

Recently, I witnessed a three-generation family participate in baptisms together for their ancestors. Even the grandmother participated—though she had some trepidation about going under the water herself. As she emerged from the water and hugged her husband, she had tears of joy. The grandfather and father then baptized each other and many of the grandchildren. What greater joy could a family experience together? Each temple has a family priority time to allow you as a family to schedule time in the baptistry.

Choosing good music has always been hard for me. I used to listen to whatever was popular at the time. I would memorize the words and sing along to the radio, but I wasn’t really paying attention to what I was hearing and singing. These small things led to my not making the best decisions in other parts of my life.
Most of the songs had a bad word in the lyrics. I would always make sure I didn’t sing those words, but every once in awhile one would slip. It’s just once, and I’m not doing it on purpose, I would think to myself. I should have stopped listening to that music right away, but I didn’t.
Looking back, I realize the more bad music I listened to, the more my attitude and the way I was acting was changing as well. I didn’t feel the Spirit with me very often, and I felt unhappy and angry all the time. I would yell at my friends, and I’m sure I wasn’t fun to be around.
Then I had this overwhelming feeling that I should look in my Personal Progress book. I noticed Integrity value experience 2: “Pray daily for strength and for the guidance of the Holy Ghost to help you live with integrity. Write in your journal the things you can do to improve your personal integrity and at least one new habit you want to develop” ([booklet, 2009], 62). I realized I hadn’t been the best I could be. I decided that I should work on listening to better music. Now I choose not to listen to bad music. I feel so happy, and the Spirit is back.