Gospel Story Finder

That has worked for me, as it will for you. One of the doctrines of the gospel I was taught when I was young is that the greatest of all the gifts of God is eternal life.6 I learned that part of eternal life is to live together in love in families forever.
From the first time that I heard those truths and they were confirmed to my heart, I felt obligated to make every choice I could to avoid contention and seek peace in my family and in my home.
Now, only after this life can I enjoy the fulness of that greatest of all blessings, eternal life. But amidst the challenges of this life, I have been given at least glimpses of what my family in heaven can be like. From those experiences my testimony of the reality of the sealing power exercised in temples has grown and been strengthened.
Watching my two daughters be baptized in the temple for their ancestors has drawn my heart to them and to those ancestors whose names we found. The promise of Elijah that hearts would be turned to each other in families has been granted to us.7 So faith for me has become certain knowledge, as we are promised in the book of Alma.
I have experienced at least some of the joy which my ancestors felt when the Savior came into the spirit world after His mortal ministry. Here is the description in the Doctrine and Covenants:
“And the saints rejoiced in their redemption, and bowed the knee and acknowledged the Son of God as their Redeemer and Deliverer from death and the chains of hell.
“Their countenances shone, and the radiance from the presence of the Lord rested upon them, and they sang praises unto his holy name.”8
My feeling of their joy came from acting on my testimony that the Lord’s promise of eternal life is real. That testimony was strengthened by my choosing to act upon it, as the Savior promised that it would be.

While I was in the mission field a few years ago, I observed one of the missionaries who always had people to teach and baptize. Wherever he went, he went with such commitment, happiness, and love for others that he was accepted. It was said of him that when he would come back into an area, many of the people would peek through their windows just to get a glimpse of this unusual young man. Though he was not particularly gifted in language skills, he succeeded in bearing a strong testimony to thousands of people.
Again, like my friend, he only did what everybody could do, but usually doesn’t.

During my world literature class one day, I felt the Spirit prompt me to leave and go to the restroom. I was in the middle of taking a test, and since it was only the second day of school, I didn’t want to make a bad impression on my teacher. But the longer I sat there, the more I felt I needed to leave. So I got a pass to go to the restroom. Several girls were there, including my friend Kelsey. As I was washing my hands, I saw a girl about my age with tear-stained eyes standing in the corner. No one seemed to notice her.
I smiled at her, and all of a sudden I could feel exactly what was wrong. "Is everything okay?" I asked.
The girl gave no answer. I knew immediately what to say, almost as if the Spirit were there saying it. "You’re new, aren’t you?" I asked.
Almost instantly she sobbed and nodded but still didn’t say anything. The Spirit told me she was having a hard time making friends. "Are you having a hard time making friends here?" I asked.
Then she spoke with relief that someone actually cared enough to notice her. My friend Kelsey and I quickly introduced ourselves, and Kelsey invited the girl to sit with her at lunch.
This made me realize the truth of the scripture, "I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you" (John 14:18). The Lord always knows when we need Him, but sometimes it’s through other people that He comforts us.

“Hey, Willard, we’ve got a favor to ask of you,” I mentioned one afternoon as we were changing the oil in Brad’s car. “We’re in charge of a dinner over at the church this weekend.” I shrugged and felt my cheeks turn red. “The kids in the ward are putting on a dinner for some senior citizens. Now I don’t mean that we think you’re a senior citizen or anything like that,” I quickly added, “but we wanted you there. Will you come?”
Willard looked up. His eyes went to each one of us, and then he stared down into the car’s engine. For a long time he didn’t speak. Slowly he pulled a rag from his back pocket and wiped his hands. A feeble smile on his lips. “The last time I was in church was when my wife died. That’s been more than three years. And it was a lot longer before that. There have been times when I wanted to go back, but I couldn’t think of a good enough reason. And there’s nobody there I know.”
“You’ve got an excuse now. We’re having good food. And you know us. We’ll be there,” I pointed out.
“Why would you want me to go to a nice, fancy dinner with you?” he asked without looking at us.
For a moment I didn’t answer, pondering the question. “Because you’re our friend,” I answered simply.
He shook his head. “I don’t know if I could. People would stare. They’d wonder why—”
“You’ll be with us,” Brad spoke up. “The whole time. We promise.”
We all waited, holding our breath. Willard thought for a long time. Finally his face softened into a smile and he said, “Well, I’ll think about it.”
The night of the dinner I was nervous. Brad had promised to bring Willard while Chris and I helped get things ready at the church.
“Did you invite anyone tonight?” Brother Loder asked as I was carrying food from the kitchen to the serving table in the cultural hall.
“Willard Watts.”
Brother Loder sighed. “When are you going to get over this Willard Watts idea?” He smiled and shook his head. “The day you get old Willard inside this church I’ll buy you the biggest meal you’ve ever had in your life.”
Just then Chris and Brad came through the doors on the far side of the cultural hall with Willard between them. Brother Loder had his back to them so he didn’t see them approach until they were right behind him. When he turned around, his jaw almost dropped to the floor he was so surprised.
“Brother Loder,” I started out, “I’d like you to meet a good friend of ours, Brother Watts.”
For a moment Brother Loder could hardly speak. Then he held out his hand and greeted Willard. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” he stammered. “The boys here have talked about you a lot.” He looked at the three of us and then back to Willard. “I guess I can believe everything they’ve told me.”
Willard nodded his head. “They’re good boys. I think you can believe what they say.”
As Brad and Chris led Willard away, Brother Loder turned to me and muttered, “I would have never believed it. I guess I owe you a big dinner.”
I shook my head and struggled to control my emotions. “Forget it,” I smiled. “Some things you don’t do to win a meal.”

A short time ago I attended the funeral of a friend’s son. Earlier in the week, the young man was traveling home late at night with friends when the driver of another car fell asleep. The second car crossed the median and smashed head-on into the first. The accident occurred with such swiftness that few, if any, brake marks showed on the highway and both cars were demolished. The accident took three lives, including my friend’s 17-year-old son.
Death teaches that we do not experience a fulness of joy in mortality and that everlasting joy can be achieved only with the assistance of the Master (see D&C 33–34). Just as the lame man at the Pool of Bethesda needed someone stronger than himself to be healed (see John 5:1–9), so we are dependent on the miracles of Christ’s atonement if our souls are to be made whole from grief, sorrow, and sin. If grieving parents and loved ones have faith in the Savior and his plan, death’s sting is softened as Jesus bears the believers’ grief and comforts them through the Holy Spirit. Through Christ, broken hearts are mended and peace replaces anxiety and sorrow. I received a letter from the boy’s parents telling me the peace they have found through their faith in Christ. They know that they will see their son again and be with him in the eternities.

I joined the Church when I was in high school and was the only member in my family. I had a difficult time making the transition to life in the Church, finding many of the activities and callings unfamiliar. So when I was asked to be a visiting teacher for the first time during my second year in college, I struggled to understand exactly what that meant. My companion was a faithful young mother, Sister Bray (names have been changed), and it was easy for me to let her set the appointments, direct our visits, and care for our sisters. One sister, in particular, proved more challenging than the rest. Cassie was less active, living with her boyfriend, and expecting their first child. She always seemed sad or troubled.
One Sunday the branch presidency asked us to make sure we invited everyone on our visiting teaching routes to a missionary fireside that evening. “No problem,” I thought. “Sister Bray will call Cassie.” I scanned the chapel. Sister Bray was out of town that Sunday and would not be making any calls.
When I reached my apartment after church, I felt the tugging of the Spirit: “Call Cassie.” I stoutly refused. Surely she wouldn’t come even if I did call. A second time the Spirit prompted strongly: “Call Cassie!” Again I refused. Finally the Spirit was impossible to ignore, and I grudgingly made the call—only to reach Cassie’s answering machine. “See,” I thought, “I knew it wouldn’t do any good.” I left a message telling Cassie and her boyfriend, Will, that there would be a fireside that evening and we’d love to see them there.
At the fireside I noticed that although many were in attendance, Cassie and Will were not among them. “I knew they wouldn’t come,” I thought, somewhat smugly. With 10 minutes left in the fireside, I was quite surprised to see Cassie and Will enter the chapel. The missionaries stood up quietly and left with them. “How about that!” I said to myself.
Christmas break came soon after that, and I attended my home ward for the holidays. A month later when I returned to my college ward, one of the members excitedly approached me and asked if I would be at the baptism that evening. “Of course,” I said, “but who is getting baptized?” The sister answered, “Will, Cassie’s husband.” Husband? I went to look for Cassie as quickly as I could.
When I found Cassie and Will, I congratulated them on their marriage and Will’s baptism and asked how it had all come about. “Remember that fireside you invited us to attend?” Cassie answered. “We got there late, so the elders took us into another room and showed us a video. Will liked it so much he asked to hear the discussions. We were married, and today Will is getting baptized.” I was humbled and ashamed of myself and yet in total awe of Heavenly Father’s love for each of His children.
But this isn’t the end of the story. Not long ago I had the opportunity to return to my college ward after being away for six years. I was thrilled to see many familiar faces and to introduce my old friends to my husband and two children.
As I passed through the foyer, I saw someone I thought I knew but who looked different somehow. “Don’t I know you?” I said. “Yes, I’m Cassie. You were my visiting teacher. You remember Will, don’t you?” She pointed to the man standing to her left, then called to two children in the hallway. “And these are our two children.” She looked happy, peaceful, and sure of herself. She said she was serving in the Primary presidency. “Have you had a chance to go to the temple?” I inquired. “Which one?” she asked with a smile. “Chicago? Detroit? Nauvoo? We’ve been to all of them.”
This encounter once again reminded me “that by small and simple things are great things brought to pass” (Alma 37:6)—even a small thing like a phone call.

The alarm went off, and Tyler (7) rolled over to see if Jason (12), was awake. Boy, what I’d give to be like him! thought Tyler. Jason plays great football and is one of the fastest runners in the seventh grade. He even passes the sacrament with no trouble.
“I’m going to do it,” Tyler said out loud.
“Going to do what, little brother?” Jason asked.
“Play basketball for Brigham Young University.”
“Aren’t you a little young for them, Ty?” Jason smiled. “Besides, you have to learn to walk before you learn to play basketball.”
“Yeah, I know. But I figure if I dream, I might as well dream big. I mean, who’s going to cheer just because I walk to the kitchen?”
“Mom for one, and me for another. Cerebral palsy isn’t something that you get over in twenty-four hours like the flu, Ty.”
“I know,” sighed Tyler. He rolled out of bed onto the floor. “I’m starved. Race you to the kitchen!”
Tyler scrabbled on his hands and knees down the hallway to the kitchen, where his mom and his sister Cherie were. His mom was busy making breakfast. Cherie (16) was looking for the car keys to go to seminary.
“How’s my tiger this morning?” Tyler’s mom asked as Cherie helped him into his chair. “Ready for something to eat? The people will be here soon.”
“Oh, Mom, I’m so tired of patterning. Can’t they just stay home today?”
Every day, for two hours, volunteers from the community help Tyler learn to use his body. In a special program called patterning, which teaches Tyler’s healthy brain cells how to control his body, they simultaneously move Tyler’s arms, legs, and head while he lies on his stomach on a table. Then they toss him up and down on a sheet to help him develop his sense of balance. Finally, he does something called masking, by breathing into a mask to help him take in more oxygen.
Tyler has been doing patterning for five months, and already he can hold his head up straight when he sits in a chair. He can also bend his knees enough to crawl around the house. But to him, his progress is too slow. He thinks that he should be walking by now.
“Patience, Tyler,” said Mom. “In order for you to walk, you must do this every day. It isn’t much fun for you, but just think how grateful you’ll be when it’s over and you can play ball with Jason.”
Tyler heard the people come in downstairs just as he finished the last bite of his breakfast. Mom picked him up, kissed his cheek, then put him on the floor so that he could crawl down the stairs to meet them.
The next two hours went by quickly, and Tyler decided that it wasn’t so bad once he got into it. After the people left, Tyler’s mom carried him upstairs for lunch.

Every day we make choices. Some aren’t a big deal—what color backpack we carry, for example. Other choices are a big deal—for instance, how we treat other people or whether we obey a commandment. Read the story below and pretend that you are the main character. What choices would you make?
Your mom says that you may invite two friends over after school tomorrow. First you call Julie, who lives a few miles away. She is in your Primary class as well as in your class at school. Her parents say yes! She will walk home with you; her parents will pick her up before supper.
Next you call Tasha, a nonmember who lives just a few houses away. She can come too. Before she hangs up the phone, though, she asks if anyone else is coming. When you tell her that Julie is also coming, Tasha says, “Yuk! Then I don’t want to come, after all.”
If you say, “Julie is my friend too. Why don’t you come and get to know her better?” go to A. If you say, “OK, I’ll tell Julie that something came up with my mom and that I can’t have anybody over,” go to F.
A. Tasha says, “Well, I guess I’ll still come, but don’t expect me to make friends with Julie.” After school, Tasha and Julie walk home with you. When Julie stoops to tie her shoelace, Tasha makes an ugly face at her behind her back.
If you say, “Julie, Tasha’s making faces at you. She didn’t want you to come,” go to J. If you say nothing but give Tasha a look of disappointment, go to E.
E. When you get to your house, punch and cookies are on the table. They turn out to be the favorite treats of both Tasha and Julie. As the afternoon goes on, you see that Tasha is actually being friendly with Julie. Tasha says, “Hey, Julie, I didn’t know you were such fun! You never say anything in school.”
If you suddenly feel jealous and try to discourage their growing friendship, go to B. If you try to help them become better friends, go to I.
I. You suggest that you all play on the tire swing. Tasha has the first turn swinging. As Julie climbs on the tire for her turn, a car full of teenagers zips by. One of them flips a cigarette on the curb. Tasha runs to pick it up. “It’s still lit!” She turns to you and says, “I dare you to try it!”
If you say, “No, I don’t do that kind of stuff, and I hope you don’t either, ‘cause it’s bad for you,” go to D. If you say, “Well, maybe just one puff—but you’d better not tell anyone!” go to H.
H. You put the cigarette to your mouth. You don’t breathe it in deeply, but even so, it tastes yucky. You are still holding it when Tasha’s mom drives by. She stops the car, hollers at Tasha to get in, and says to you, “Don’t expect Tasha to be coming over anymore.”
You feel awful. When your eyes meet Julie’s, you see that she is very disappointed in you. You promise that you’ll never do anything like that again. Julie gives you a weak smile and says, “I believe you, but I don’t think that Tasha’s mom ever will.”
This is your last chance in this story to get on the “right-choice” track. Hurry to D!

Jeremy Baird, a teacher, said it this way, “I thought this youth conference was going to be a bummer, but it was a great learning experience. At the mission I talked to a man who had been successful in business, but was now homeless and had lost his family as a result of drugs. It taught me that what I had thought about all the people who are homeless is not true.”

I was recently asked to speak about what our family is doing to become a celestial family. My father suggested I speak on how to serve ice cream in a society made up of righteous families. Now maybe you are like me. I didn’t know there was any special way to serve ice cream in such a society until my dad explained it to me.
He first told me to research the subject in the scriptures. But, after failing to find anything about ice cream in the Bible or Doctrine and Covenants, I gave up. I didn’t even look in the Book of Mormon. That was a big mistake, for that is where you find the best discourse on serving ice cream in a truly righteous family. Actually it doesn’t talk much about ice cream. It hits that very lightly. But it does teach you a lot about proper technique in serving ice cream.
Maybe you could understand better if I told you how I used to serve ice cream and then explain the difference.
Since I am a teenager, when dad or mom would ask me to serve everyone some ice cream, the first thing I would do was find me a cereal bowl and stack the ice cream to the teenager level, which is about two inches above the rim. Then I would dish up the ice cream for the rest of my family. However, my brother and sisters are smaller than I, so of course the small ice cream dishes are just about right for them. Rachelle, my 11-year-old sister, thinks she should get a cereal bowl too, which is ridiculous because she isn’t even a teenager yet.
Well, my dad showed me in the Book of Mormon where it explains that my method wouldn’t have made the grade.
In 4 Nephi it tells what it was like after the Savior visited the people in America following his resurrection. After his visit, the people really lived righteous lives. And the way they lived can help us understand how to develop celestial families. It even teaches us how to serve ice cream.
The Book of Mormon, in 4 Nephi, [4 Ne. 1] says that the people had no jealousies, they were not envious, and they had no contentions or disputations among them. They had all things in common, and there were no rich or poor, and there was peace in the land. They went to sacrament and priesthood meetings to hear the word of the Lord, and they continued to fast and pray.
But let’s get back to ice cream! My dad gently explained to me that when I have the standard teenager’s portion, it makes Rachelle and Kristi, my number two sister, jealous and envious. When they get like that, they start giving me all kinds of reasons why they should have as much as I do. Of course, I have to explain to them, loud enough for them to understand, that teenagers need more nourishment than “little girls.” Then they always have a response for that. And I have to reply—in a slightly louder tone, of course.
Well, when I read 4 Nephi, I could see that we were having one of those “disputations” that Nephi was talking about; and the disputation had been caused by a “contention;” and the contention was caused by “envying.”
So you can see that there is a certain way that you have to serve ice cream in a family desiring to be more righteous.
Mom also pointed out something else. If everyone is allowed to have a fair share, according to their needs, then there are really no rich ice cream eaters and no poor ice cream eaters. Having no rich or poor means that everyone has as much as he needs, but he does not have so much more than someone else that they get envious and cause contentions which lead to disputations.
When these disputations are avoided, there really is “peace in the land.” At least there is peace in the family room, and everyone is happier!
When you think about it, this idea has some interesting applications when it comes to who is going to sit where in the car, or who is going to do what in family home evening, or which TV show to watch.
My serving of ice cream has changed since I read 4 Nephi, and I have discovered that to live like they did after Christ’s visit, we have to concentrate on the little things we do day to day and the way we treat each other or think of each other. And you know, it helps me to think of my brother and sisters as much as myself. Mom says there is something about that in the scriptures, too. I suppose I should find that scripture as well.

President Russell M. Nelson previously shared in general conference an experience he once had with an African tribal king. When the king experienced the power of the Savior’s words in 3 Nephi, he stated, “If I am converted and join the Church, I will bring my whole tribe with me.” President Nelson responded, “Oh, King . . . it doesn’t work that way. Conversion is an individual matter. The Savior ministered to the Nephites one by one. Each individual receives a witness and testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ.”1

Your answer may be found in considering a butterfly. Wrapped tightly in its cocoon, the developing chrysalis must struggle with all its might to break its confinement. The butterfly might think, Why must I suffer so? Why cannot I simply, in the twinkling of an eye, become a butterfly?
Such thoughts would be contrary to the Creator’s design. The struggle to break out of the cocoon develops the butterfly so it can fly. Without that adversity, the butterfly would never have the strength to achieve its destiny. It would never develop the strength to become something extraordinary.

When I joined the Church, I was eager to get involved in family history work. I began visiting local archives to search for my ancestors’ information in public records.
I found the work fulfilling, but it was not always easy. The old handwriting was often difficult to read, and some of the books were moldy, which agitated my asthma. Still, I continued researching as best I could.
One day I was researching about my grandfather, looking for his date of birth. I found a 1,500-page book that might be helpful. But what if it didn’t have the answer I needed? I dreaded having to look through more big, dusty books.
I began skimming the book’s contents, hoping a familiar name would catch my eye. Suddenly, I thought I heard someone say, “The last page.” I looked around, but it did not appear that anyone had spoken to me. I continued and read several more pages. Then I heard the same words again: “The last page.” Somewhat hesitantly, I decided to check the last page. I found the text that is usually written there: a summary of children born and the total number of pages. Just in case, I checked the page that preceded the last one but found nothing helpful there, so I turned back to the page I had been reading before.
My thoughts were soon interrupted once more by the soft but persistent voice: “The last page!” I decided to try the last page again and read the now-familiar text several times.
Then I noticed something I had missed before: an extra page pasted inside the back cover. As I read the handwriting scribbled across the page, I saw the names of children born near the end of December. There I recognized my grandfather’s name and saw that it stated where and when he was born and baptized. I was astonished but filled with gratitude that I had been led to the information I needed.

I wasn’t expecting a letter from my dad. I was away at college, just trying to keep up with my studies, when it arrived. It wasn’t my birthday or any other special occasion, so I thought the envelope just held some insurance information or some other document I had forgotten at home.
Instead, when I opened the letter, I found a short, three-paragraph note from my dad. He had written it during his free time on one of his business trips. It was his way of showing his love, but the words he shared also taught me a valuable truth I have never forgotten.
Dad told me a little about his trip. He also mentioned how he appreciated me. It made me feel so special that I had been on my father’s mind during his busy days of travel and work.
Then, in the last few lines, he wrote these simple words: “I am really excited to be going home to be with your mother. I haven’t seen her since Tuesday, and I miss her. She makes me better when I am around her. I hope the person you choose to marry makes you that way.”
My throat tightened and I got teary-eyed as I read this. I was so grateful for my dad’s love and appreciation for my mom. Their marriage has been the best example I could have on dating and relationships. I also was glad for dad’s subtle advice to me to associate with young men who help me to be a better person. It was a great reminder to me of what I really should be looking for and focusing on in my relationships.

“Even though I forgot to read a few times, overall it was a success. I realized that before I started Elder Stevenson’s invitation, I was really only reading about 3 minutes each night, and by increasing my reading to 10 minutes each night, I saw a difference in my life. When I read, I feel more in tune with the Spirit and I can feel the blessings of spiritual protection every day. The same way that it can be hard to start reading after not reading the scriptures for a while, once I started the habit of reading, I couldn’t stop.
“I noticed that for me, when I read the scriptures right before bed, I normally fell asleep or didn’t get as much out of my reading. It worked best to read either in the morning or after school.
“I had a blast doing this and would challenge everyone to try it.”
Rachel A., 15, Colorado, USA

Waiting-for-Papa Stories by Bethany Roberts To help her children keep from worrying about Papa, Mama Rabbit tells them several cute imaginary stories about him while they wait for him to come home.

For a young man named Prophet living in Ghana, setting the goal in Children and Youth to learn how to play the piano was only the beginning. “It’s my goal to also help other people know what I am learning,” Prophet says.

Even though he’s not yet an instructor, his goal has already grown into something much bigger than he ever imagined. There are now 50 students taking piano classes at the meetinghouse alongside Prophet. And just who is teaching Prophet and those other 50 students? Alexander M. and Kelvin M., both age 13. “We want to show acts of kindness to other people,” Kelvin says.

Three days a week the two youth teach basic piano lessons for free to all who come to learn. There has been an added benefit to the piano lessons. Several of the students introduced to the Church through piano lessons later studied the gospel and decided to be baptized.

There are many opportunities all around us to be missionaries—we just need to recognize them. I was recently on an airplane flying home from England. I started talking to the man sitting next to me. We talked for a while about business and other things, but finally I said that I wanted to tell him about a very special book, the Book of Mormon. We spent the next four hours talking about it, and when we were through, he said, “This has truly changed my life.” All it took was the courage to open my mouth. The Lord will often tell us what to say.

Denver relied on the Lord when his best friend was killed in a car accident. “It took a lot of time and a lot of prayer. That was probably the time when I felt most reliant on Heavenly Father, rather than trying to take care of things for myself, because I felt helpless,” he says.

I started looking at what has happened to his extended family since his death. Henry Morgan and Fannie Young Perry were blessed with 10 children, then 48 grandchildren, 161 great-grandchildren, 241 great-great-grandchildren, and now 22 great-great-great-grandchildren, a total of 482. Including their companions, their number reaches 639. Why, their posterity is a ward almost ready for division!

But in becoming acquainted, I’ve found that not all of the family have been blessed with a knowledge of the teachings of their grandfather. Not all have embraced the gospel. Suddenly I realized that I had a great work to do. Some of those 639 will not be part of his eternal family unit because they have not received the witness in their hearts of what they have to do to accomplish this.

I have discovered that certainly if there was a man qualified to inherit the celestial kingdom, it would have been my grandfather, Henry Morgan Perry. I am excited as I anticipate being with him in the eternities if I qualify myself. But then I start worrying about meeting grandfather and wondering how he will greet me. The realization comes to me again of the great work I have to accomplish. Because of this concern, I have researched the names of all the descendants of Henry Morgan Perry who have not taken advantage of the glorious privilege of becoming part of an eternal family unit. I have sent them letters inviting them to listen to me today. For the next few minutes I would like to address my remarks to these members of our family.

Now my dear family members who have not completed all that the Lord would require of you to become part of this great eternal family organization—I must confess that there are times when we focus so much on the worldwide impact of missionary programs, genealogical records extraction, on preparation to teach Sunday School classes, etc., that we fail to make ourselves available to help you understand the blessings which await you as part of an eternal family organization. I want you to know that I am now available. I have reordered my priorities. I want to do all in my power to be certain that our eternal family association is complete. Let us teach you the doctrines which are necessary for you to join with us for time and eternity.