Gospel Story Finder

The power of that individual covenant was impressed upon my heart three weeks ago as I attended a baptismal service. There before me were eight beautiful children sitting with reverent anticipation that finally their special day had arrived. But as I looked into their bright faces, I did not see just a group of children. Instead I saw them as I think the Lord would—individually. I saw Emma and Sophia and Ian and Logan and Aden and William and Sophie and Micah. Each baptismal covenant is made one by one. Each dressed in white, they were there—ready and willing with all their eight-year-old hearts to make their first covenant with God.
Think back and picture your own baptismal day. Whether you can remember many details or just a few, try to feel now the significance of the covenant you individually made. Having been called by your own name, you were immersed in water and came forth as God’s daughter—a covenant daughter, one willing to be called by the name of His Son and promising to follow Him and keep His commandments.
Covenants with God help us to know who we really are. They connect us to Him in a personal way through which we come to feel our value in His sight and our place in His kingdom. In a way we can’t fully comprehend, we are known and loved individually by Him. Think of it—each of us holds such a place in His heart. His desire is that we will choose the path that will bring us home to Him.
As essential and significant as the covenant of baptism is, it is only the beginning—the gate that puts us on the path to eternal life. Ahead on our journey are temple covenants to be made and priesthood ordinances to receive. As Elder David A. Bednar reminds us, “As we stand in the waters of baptism, we look to the temple.”
It is not only in making covenants but also in faithfully keeping these covenants that we are prepared to receive eternal life. That is our hope, our goal, and our joy.
I was an eyewitness to the power of covenants as I watched my righteous parents, who loved and lived the gospel. In my sweet mother I was privileged to see clearly the daily decisions of a covenant daughter of God. Even when she was a girl, her choices reflected her priorities and identified her as a true disciple of Jesus Christ. I have seen the peace, the power, and the protection that came into her life as she made and kept sacred covenants on her journey. Her life on this earth reflected her love for the Savior and her desire to follow Him. Oh, how I want to follow her example.
My parents’ lives together began in an unusual way. It was 1936. They were dating seriously and were planning to marry, when my dad received a letter inviting him to serve as a full-time missionary in South Africa. The letter said that if he was worthy and willing to serve, he was to contact his bishop. You can quickly see that the process of being called as a missionary was very different in those days! Dad showed the letter to his sweetheart, Helen, and they determined without question he would serve.
For two weeks before he left, Mom met Dad each day for a picnic lunch in Memory Grove near downtown Salt Lake City. During one of their lunches, having sought direction through fasting and prayer, Mother told her dear Claron that if he still wanted to, she would marry him before he left. In the early days of the Church, men were sometimes called to missionary service and left wives and families at home. So it was with my mother and dad. With the approval of his priesthood leaders, they decided to be married before he departed for his mission.
In the Salt Lake Temple, Mother received her endowment, and then they were married for time and all eternity by President David O. McKay. Theirs was a humble beginning. There were no photographs, no beautiful wedding dress, no flowers, and no reception to celebrate the occasion. Their clear focus was on the temple and their covenants. For them, the covenants were everything. After only six days of marriage and with a tearful good-bye, my dad left for South Africa.
But their marriage was more than just the deep love they had for each other. They also had a love of the Lord and a desire to serve Him. The sacred temple covenants they had made gave them strength and power to carry them through the two years of separation. They had an eternal perspective of life’s purpose and of promised blessings that come to those who are faithful to their covenants. All these blessings transcended their short-term sacrifice and separation.
While it certainly wasn’t an easy way to begin married life, it proved to be an ideal way to lay a foundation for an eternal family. As children came along, we knew what mattered most to our parents. It was their love for the Lord and their unwavering commitment to keeping the covenants they had made. Though my parents have both passed away, their pattern of righteousness is blessing our family still.
The example of their lives is reflected in the words of Sister Linda K. Burton: “The best way to strengthen a home, current or future, is to keep covenants.”
Their season of hardship and trial was not over. Three years after Dad returned from his mission, World War II was raging, and like so many others, he enlisted in the military. He was away from home for another four years as he served in the navy aboard battleships in the Pacific.
It was a difficult time for my parents to be separated again. But for my mother, those days of loneliness, worry, and uncertainty were also marked by whisperings of the Spirit that spoke of eternal promises, of comfort and peace amid the storm.
Despite her challenges, my mother lived a rich life, full of happiness, joy, love, and service. Her love of the Savior was reflected in the way she lived her life. She had a remarkable connection to heaven and a gift and capacity to love and bless everyone around her. Her faith in God and hope in His promises are reflected in President Thomas S. Monson’s words about the temple when he said, “No sacrifice is too great, no price too heavy, no struggle too difficult in order to receive those blessings.”
In all the seasons of her life, Mother was strengthened and blessed by her love of the Lord and by the covenants she faithfully made and kept.
There is no doubt the details of your story will be different than hers. But principles from her life apply to all of us. When daughters of God focus on the temple and on their sacred covenants, God is able to send blessings in personal and powerful ways. Like my mother’s example to me, your choice to believe and keep covenants will leave a rich legacy of faith for those who follow you. So, dear sisters, how can we access the power and blessings of temple covenants? What can we do now to prepare for those blessings?
As I have traveled, I have come to know there are sisters of all ages, in all circumstances, whose lives provide answers to these questions.
I met Mary shortly after her eighth birthday. Like so many others, she is excited about doing family history and has contributed over 1,000 names for temple work. Mary is preparing herself now for the blessing of entering the temple when she turns 12.
Brianna is 13 and loves doing family history and temple work. She has accepted Elder Neil L. Andersen’s temple challenge. She has prepared hundreds of names for temple work and, along with herself, has included her family and friends in performing the baptisms. In this sacred work, Brianna’s heart is turning not only to her earthly fathers but to her Heavenly Father as well.
Although Anfissa is a busy young adult who is working and going to graduate school, she still makes time to attend the temple each week. She seeks revelation and finds peace as she serves in the house of the Lord.
Katya, a dear sister in Ukraine, has a deep love for the temple. Before the temple in Kyiv was built, she and others in her branch sacrificed to travel 36 hours on a bus to attend the temple once a year in Germany. These devoted Saints prayed, studied scriptures, sang hymns, and discussed the gospel as they traveled. Katya told me, “When we finally arrived at the temple, we were prepared to receive what the Lord had to give us.”
If we are to receive all the blessings God so generously offers, our earthly path must lead to the temple. Temples are an expression of God’s love. He invites us all to come, learn of Him, feel His love, and receive the priesthood ordinances necessary for eternal life with Him. Each covenant is made one by one. Every mighty change of heart matters to the Lord. And yours will make all the difference to you. For as we go to His holy house, we can be “armed with [His] power, … [His] name … upon [us], … [His] glory … round about [us], and [His] angels have charge over [us].”

In addition to attending the scheduled church meetings, Sister Eubank and Sister Harkness were able to visit some of the members in their homes. After their 28 virtual home visits, Sister Eubank stated “I have never gone ministering with WhatsApp before, but it gave me the chance to sit in homes where the evening meal was being prepared and children were studying with a lamp and speak heart to heart with a sister about her challenges and joys. I came away so uplifted from meeting these sisters in this intimate way. Many shared deeply personal and spiritual experiences around their conversions to the gospel of Jesus Christ or introduced me to their family with pride.”

Ten-year-old Olivia curled upon her side and tried to go back to sleep, even though she knew that it would be impossible. After all, it was Christmas, 1843. Well, just barely, Olivia thought as she counted the twelve chimes that echoed softly from her mother’s clock.
Last Christmas, she’d lived far away in Leek, England. Then Grandpa Rushton had listened to the missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. “These men speak the truth,” he’d said. Three months later, Olivia and her entire family were baptized along with Grandpa and Grandma.
Leaving England to join the Saints in America had been a very hard decision. Would Grandpa be able to sell his silk business? What would Papa do? Would Baby James get sick and die like Mama’s other baby? And what about Grandma Lettice? Olivia would have been terrified to leave her home if she were blind like Grandma.
After a lot of prayer and asking the Lord, Papa knew that they needed to follow the counsel of the Prophet Joseph Smith and join the Saints in Zion.
And now it was Christmas, even though Christmas in Nauvoo was very different from Christmas in England. There, everyone enjoyed crackling Yule logs, the singing of carols, and the exchanging of presents. In Nauvoo, many people didn’t celebrate the day at all. Mama said that it was because of their religious customs before they joined the Church. But that didn’t seem like a very good reason to Olivia. If only we could have Christmas like we did in England! she thought with a sigh.
Just then, she heard muffled voices by the front door. Olivia slid out of bed and tiptoed across the cold floor. “Mama?”
Her mother and father were bundled up!
“Where are you going, Mama?”
“What are you doing up, Olivia?” Mama whispered. “You should be in bed.”
“I couldn’t sleep—and then I heard you.”
“Well, go back to bed,” Mama said. “Grandma Lettice asked us to go singing with her.”
“Singing? Now? May I come, too?”
“It’s cold outside,” Papa said.
“I don’t mind,” Olivia replied. “Please?”
Mama and Papa exchanged glances. “Well, all right,” Papa said. “But you’ll have to dress quickly. We don’t want to be late.”
Olivia changed into her warmest clothes, then followed her parents into the chilly darkness. The cold stung her face like an angry slap, and her breath turned into puffy clouds. “Where are we going?” she asked. “Are we going to sing a song I know?”
“You’ll see,” Mama said.
Just as she was wondering how much farther she’d have to walk, she saw her aunts and uncles, Grandma Lettice, and several neighbors gathered together outside the Mansion House at the corner of Main and Water Streets.
The Prophet’s house! Olivia caught her breath. Are we going to sing to the Prophet? she wondered.
“All right, everyone,” Grandma Lettice whispered. “Just as we rehearsed it.”
For a split second, Olivia wondered if it had been a mistake to come—she hadn’t rehearsed anything. But in only two notes, Olivia realized that she did know the song. It was one of the songs in Sister Smith’s new hymnal. She took a deep breath and sang with the rest of the carolers.
“Mortals, awake! with angels join,
And chant the solemn lay;
Love, joy and gratitude combine
To hail th’ auspicious day.”*
Soon lights flickered to life, and windows of the Mansion House opened. The Prophet Joseph Smith, his family, and all of his boarders looked out.
“Who’s singing?” someone asked.
“How lovely,” whispered another.
“Are there angels outside?”
Although Olivia wasn’t an angel, she certainly felt like one as a wave of warmth spread from the top of her head to the very tips of her toes. How happy the Prophet looks, she thought.
When they’d finished, Olivia was certain that she saw tears in the Prophet’s eyes as he thanked them for their beautiful serenade and blessed them in the name of the Lord.
“Merry Christmas,” Olivia called as the singers left. She decided that she didn’t want to be back in England, after all. She belonged here with her family, the restored Church, and the Lord’s prophet. She couldn’t think of a better Christmas gift.

After serving a mission to Sweden, I moved to Provo to attend BYU. I worked part time at the MTC. One day I passed a young woman in the hall who looked familiar. I glanced at her nametag and saw that her name was Sister Gurr. I was surprised to see Lisa, the former cheerleader from my high school! I stopped her and told her who I was, and she was equally surprised. I then thanked her for living true to her standards and keeping her covenants at that party so long ago. She was truly a wonderful example and affected my life for good by staying true to who she was and what she believed.

Kerry, Nate, and Elizabeth came running in after school. “Mom, guess what!” Elizabeth yelled. “What?” Mom asked.
“Our teachers said we can help hungry children with these bags,” Kerry said excitedly. All three children waved their brown plastic bags with FOOD BANK printed on them.
Mom stopped washing dishes and sat down at the kitchen table. “OK, tell me how a plastic bag can help hungry children.”
“There’s a place called a food bank,” Nate said.
“It’s where families without any money can get food,” Kerry explained.
“Yes!” piped up little Elizabeth. “Then they will always have supper.”
“Can we get some things from our pantry?” Kerry asked. “We have tons of food there.”
“Of course,” Mom said. “Fill your bags while I finish washing the dishes.”
With a happy shout, the three children ran to the pantry. Nate grabbed a big can of peaches.
“Not those,” Kerry said. “Peaches are my favorite. Take that can of sour cabbage stuff that no one likes.”
“Except Mom,” Nate corrected. “But she won’t mind.”
Elizabeth started putting a box of macaroni and cheese in her bag, but Nate stopped her. “Hey, that’s my favorite lunch. Take this old can of spinach instead. Then we won’t have to eat it.”
The children kept pulling cans and boxes from the pantry until their bags were too full to lift. They dragged the food into the living room where Mom was reading.
Mom smiled proudly at them. But when she looked into the bags, a small frown creased her forehead. “What’s this, Elizabeth? An old can of spinach?”
Elizabeth nodded. “Nate said to take it instead of macaroni and cheese because that’s his favorite.”
“And peaches are Kerry’s favorite, so we picked the sour cabbage stuff that you like,” Nate added.
“I’m glad to donate some of my favorites,” Mom said. “But I’m not sure that sauerkraut or spinach would be a hungry child’s first choice. And since Jesus loves us all the same I wonder what He would want you to put in your bags. What if Jesus were going to that food bank for supper tomorrow? Would you feed Him only things that are yucky to you? Or would you share your favorite foods with Him?”
Kerry, Nate, and Elizabeth looked down at their bags. Then they looked at each other. Finally they looked up at Mom.
“We’d better go back to the pantry,” Kerry said.
Nate nodded. “We need to change some things.”
The children dragged their bags back to the pantry and dumped the cans onto the floor.
“Peaches first!” Kerry said.
Nate grinned. “Then macaroni and cheese!”
“And some of my favorite pudding for dessert!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “Jesus is going to like what we are giving to others for supper!”

The young women around the world have taught me so much about seeking Christ and gaining a daily, personal witness of Him. Let me share the wisdom of two of them:

Livvy has watched general conference her entire life. In fact, in her home they traditionally watch all five sessions as a family. In the past, conference for Livvy had meant doodling or drifting into the occasional unintended nap. But this past October general conference was different. It became personal.

This time, Livvy decided to be an active recipient. She silenced notifications on her phone and took notes of impressions from the Spirit. She was amazed as she felt specific things God wanted her to hear and do. This decision made a difference in her life almost immediately.

Just days later her friends invited her to an inappropriate movie. She reflected, “I felt the words and spirit of conference return into my heart, and I heard myself declining their invitation.” She also had the courage to share her testimony of the Savior in her ward.

After these events she stated, “The amazing thing is, when I heard myself testify that Jesus is the Christ, I felt the Holy Ghost confirm it again for me.”

Livvy did not skip like a stone over the surface of conference weekend; she dove in, mind and spirit, and found the Savior there.

I remember a news article from Sicily, Italy, which read, “Five young brothers blind since birth got their first dim glimpse of the world Tuesday. They cried with delight.” The Rotolo brothers were operated on to remove cataracts they had been born with. As the surgeon, Luigi Picardo, in a darkened room removed their bandages, he must have hoped and prayed that his work was successful.
The first to speak was four-year-old Calogero, the youngest of the brothers. “The necktie,” he cried, tugging at the surgeon’s tie. “I can see, I can see.” The removal of the bandages from the others’ eyes was accompanied by shouts of joy. The boys’ father could hardly believe it when he held thirteen-year-old Carmelo’s face in his hands and asked tenderly, “Can you see, my son? Can you really see?”
The boys’ mother, the doctors, and everyone there wept for joy. Dr. Picardo replaced the bandages and walked slowly out of the room. Then he sat down on a bench and wept. “Never,” he said, “have I felt such extraordinary serenity, such happiness.” Thus a skilled surgeon actually brought the gift of sight to five little boys who had been blind.

My wife, Nancy, is also a convert to the Church. She has mentioned to me many times over the years the joy she has felt in her life since finding, accepting, and living the gospel of Jesus Christ. What follows is a reflection from Sister Maynes on her experience:

“As a young adult in my early 20s, I was at a point in my life when I knew I needed to change something in order to be a happier person. I felt like I was adrift with no real purpose and direction, and I didn’t know where to go to find it. I had always known that Heavenly Father existed and occasionally throughout my life had said prayers, feeling that He listened.

“As I began my search, I attended several different churches but would always fall back into the same feelings and discouragement. I feel very blessed because my prayer for direction and purpose in life was ultimately answered, and the fulness of the gospel of Jesus Christ was brought into my life. For the first time I felt like I had a purpose, and the plan of happiness brought real joy into my life.”

I glanced at the quarter in my hand and then eyed the 10-foot distance to the cement wall. The other kid’s quarter had landed about six inches from the wall. Another good shot. He’d already won my first quarter last round. Now I had to win it back—and hopefully win an additional quarter from him in the third round.
You see, I wanted a soda with my lunch. And sodas cost 75 cents, which was 25 cents more than I had left after buying lunch at our junior high school cafeteria. Hence the contest.
I tossed my last quarter as skillfully as I could. I hoped for a lucky bounce that would put it closer to the wall than my opponent’s, thereby making me the winner.
Nope. My fiendish coin hit the wall hard. I watched as it rolled back farther than my opponent’s. He smirked and scooped up the spoils.
“Better luck next time,” he said.
It would be an entire school year before it occurred to me that if I’d simply saved my change after lunch, I could’ve bought a soda two days out of every three. At the time, though, the idea of turning two quarters into three or more with no effort was too enticing. I lost a lot of quarters that year.

Lucy Fergeson from Utah, USA, shares how ministering helped her through the worst week of her life—but in an unexpected way. It was final-exam week at school, a busy work week, and her boyfriend had just broken up with her. And then, she says, “I’d forgotten, but my ministering companion and I had planned to make muffins for the sisters we were assigned to minister to.”

As they baked together, Lucy’s ministering companion listened, empathized, and offered advice. “Making and delivering muffins wasn’t something that would be very important or make much of a difference,” Lucy reflects. “But after my companion dropped me off at home, I realized that it was exactly what I needed to feel better and that sometimes God sends other people to be His hands. What was neat to me was that the help came from my ministering companion instead of the sisters assigned to me. I’m so grateful she helped me feel like I wasn’t alone and that I was loved.”

Sometimes the tables are reversed. A dear and cherished young friend, Wendy Bennion of Salt Lake City, was such an example. Almost seven years ago, she quietly departed mortality and returned “to that God who gave [her] life.” She had struggled for over five long years in her battle with cancer. Ever cheerful, always reaching out to help others, never losing faith, her contagious smile attracted others to her as a magnet attracts metal shavings. While ill and in pain, a friend of hers, feeling downcast with her own situation, visited Wendy. Nancy, Wendy’s mother, knowing Wendy was in extreme pain, felt that perhaps the friend had stayed too long. She asked Wendy, after the friend had left, why she had allowed her to stay so long when she herself was in so much pain. Wendy’s response: “What I was doing for my friend was a lot more important than the pain I was having. If I can help her, then the pain is worth it.”

Three weeks ago I was at a stake conference in the lovely little mountain community of Prescott, Arizona. Following the delightful events of that weekend, a sister silently slipped me a note as she and others came by to shake hands and say good-bye. With some hesitation I share a portion of it with you this morning. Please focus on the doctrine this sister teaches, not the participants in the exchange.
“Dear Elder Holland, thank you for the testimony you bore in this conference of the Savior and His love. Forty-one years ago I prayed earnestly to the Lord and told Him I wished I had lived on earth when the Apostles walked upon it, when there had been a true Church, and when Christ’s voice was still heard. Within a year of that prayer, Heavenly Father sent two LDS missionaries to me, and I found that all those hopes could be realized. Perhaps some hour when you are tired or troubled, this note will help you remember why hearing your voice and shaking your hand is so important to me and to millions just like me. Your sister in love and gratitude, Gloria Clements.”

Except perhaps one thing. Consider the fate of Boabdil, last Caliph of the Moorish kingdom of Granada. On the second day of the year 1492, he stood looking down on the fair white houses and lofty minarets of his beloved city for the last time. The Christian armies under the banners of Isabel of Castile and her husband Ferdinand of Aragon were pouring through the sunny streets, invading the beautiful mosques, schools, and marketplaces, possessing the quiet patios and well-wrought pleasure gardens. Boabdil, a man of culture and learning and taste, looked down on his earthly paradise and wept. He may have thought of Adam looking back on the garden or Abraham turning away from the cool green valleys and deep wells into the desert.
Legend says that Boabdil’s mother looked upon her heartbroken son with contempt and said bitterly, “You do well, my son, to weep as a woman for what you could not defend as a man!” But the citizens of Granada, wiser than that mother, have always felt a deep sympathy for Boabdil. How hard would be the heart that could not weep for Granada!
Boabdil watched as the Christian troops marched through the city to a hill that thrust into the heart of Granada like the prow of a mighty ship. Climbing through groves and gardens, they came to the walls of the royal fortress and palaces. For Boabdil this must have been the bitterest moment of all because this was the symbol of all he was losing, the Alhambra, renowned then and now as one of the chief wonders of the world and one of the most beautiful places on the earth. Built by his ancestors Muhammed Al-Ahmar, Muhammed II, Abul Yusaf I, and Muhammed V, it was a wonderland of courts and patios and airy passageways, fountains and gardens and towers in which an earthly king could anticipate paradise. Turning away, Boabdil and his men continued their retreat out of Spanish history. For the first time in centuries, Spain was once again totally under Christian control.

Brother Ashton Garcia of the Port of Spain Trinidad Stake shared his experience of preparing line upon line. He said, when his wife was serving as Relief Society president, she received personal revelation after reading the words of President Spencer W. Kimball (1895–1985) to start a food storage.7 They learned valuable lessons of following the prophet, starting a kitchen garden, storing fruits and vegetables managing a budget and using resources wisely. He shared that “As we moved forward in faith and followed the Lord’s commandments, the Lord guided us with revelation line upon line on how to act and not be acted upon. We received peace from the Spirit by knowing we were prepared and keeping the commandments.”

Later in my mission, I served with an agency that provided cultural orientation and English classes for Asian refugees who were planning to settle in the United States. This experience expanded my perspective to include many people who were not of my faith.
After one lesson on how to use and clean household appliances, we had some extra time. I began to drill the students, asking questions through their translator. I would ask, “What is your address?” and they would answer. At one point, the young translator became impatient and began speaking harshly to an old Cambodian woman who could not remember the answer. The woman’s lips began to quiver, her eyes twitched a few times, and then she began to cry. Though I did not know what the translator had said, I could feel the woman’s dejection.
At that moment, I thought of what the Savior would have done if he had been there. I picked up her worn hand. As I held it, she began to tell me through the translator about some of her experiences in Cambodia. Then three other women who were sitting nearby began to cry. Together they told about their children and grandchildren who had starved, and about others who had been taken into the jungle to be killed.
Suffering was all these women had ever known. With little opportunity for education, a Cambodian woman’s sole duty is to manage the home and family. These women had seen their most precious gifts—their families—slaughtered and tortured before their very eyes.
I cried with them, and then I tried to tell them through the translator: “I want you to know how much I love you. I know I can never completely understand how much you have suffered. But with all my heart I know that someday you will have peace, and all the things you never have possessed will be given to you.”
After class, I couldn’t wait to get home to ask the Lord: “When will all the peoples of the world be able to be fully of one mind and one heart, with no poor among us?” I picked up my scriptures and found the word poor in the concordance. Two scriptures I had always loved now comforted me: “Therefore, let your hearts be comforted concerning Zion; for all flesh is in mine hands; be still and know that I am God.” (D&C 101:16.) And the more well-known scripture, “And the Lord called his people Zion, because they were of one heart and one mind, and dwelt in righteousness; and there was no poor among them.” (Moses 7:18.)
The Spirit poured into my soul. My students and I had neither language nor faith in common. But my whole desire was to be one with those women and all the others who are poor in worldly possessions, yet so rich in purity and meekness.
I will never forget that day. It taught me what serving the Master really means—a reciprocal exchange in loving and learning from those we serve.

When members were invited to join a special choir that would sing at the Oklahoma City Oklahoma Temple dedication, Mary Brunson jumped at the chance. Singing? Absolutely. Mary enjoys doing it and is quite proficient. She’s so into performing and singing that she has a sticker that says “Drama Queen” on the bumper of her car. “I really love to sing,” she says.

So after months of practice for the special event on July 30, 2000, she compared the differences between performing on stage and singing at this occasion.
“It was worship here today,” she says after the first of four dedicatory sessions. “In a play you go out and perform. When I perform, it is pretending. Singing in the choir was not pretending. This was real. This is something that will stay with me.”
She’s speaking about both her experience at the dedication and the white marble temple that sits on the outskirts of Oklahoma City.

The choir
In the spring of 2000, the Oklahoma City Oklahoma East Stake organized the choir. Mary saw it as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. So did Ben Harrison and Jonathan Pierce. It didn’t hurt that all three are friends who love to sing—friends who were able to support and encourage each other during rehearsals.
“When we started practicing in the spring, the temple dedication didn’t seem real. It seemed so far in the future,” says Ben, 16, of the Choctaw Ward. Mary, Ben, and Jonathan stopped by the temple site at various stages of construction, watching the sacred building go up. With each passing month, the reality of the temple increased in their minds. Weekly choir practices in preparation for the dedication also helped.
“I really think it will draw us a lot closer to the Church having a temple here,” says Jonathan, 18. “We won’t have to drive all the way to Dallas.” Or Manti. Before the Dallas Texas Temple was built in 1985, the Oklahoma City members were in the faraway Manti Utah Temple district. For Jonathan’s family, temple visits have gone from a two-day journey to a four-hour trip to the 20-minute drive of today.
As Mary, Ben, and Jonathan walk around the temple grounds after the first dedicatory session, they all seem a little in awe of what has just occurred. Maybe at one time having a temple in Oklahoma didn’t seem real. But the three realize they just took part in something they know they’ll remember forever.

A lifetime of memories
“This was an experience you can look back on and remember most clearly because of how unique it was,” says Jonathan. “I really liked singing ‘God So Loved the World.’ Watching President [James E.] Faust put the mortar in the cornerstone and then singing that hymn made me realize God does so love the world that He is going to dot the world with temples.”
All three are also in agreement that they often assumed Oklahoma would never have a temple. But after President Hinckley’s 1997 announcement, it wasn’t long before the temple that will serve members in parts of Kansas, Arkansas, Texas, and Missouri—as well as Oklahoma—was announced.
“This is such a great thing,” says Ben, standing near the temple entrance. “There were times when I thought Oklahoma didn’t have enough members to have a temple. But I’ve seen that we actually are strong, and the temple shows me how strong we can become.”
All three also believe the presence of the temple will help the youth in the area stay stronger in the Church. “A lot of teenagers do drift from the Church when they get to high school,” says Jonathan. “I really believe more boys will go on missions from Oklahoma if they’re able to go through the temple that they can call their own.”
They’re also sure of one thing. “We’re going to wear the temple out,” says Ben.

Before his mission had ended, Elder Spori had received word from an almost inconsolable wife, still in Switzerland, that their eldest daughter, Katherine, had died from injuries received in a fall from a swing. Jacob, knowing well of the gospel’s ability to heal spiritual wounds, wrote his wife of the doctrines of the Church. She was touched by these new truths and became convinced the gospel was true.
Mrs. Spori applied for baptism and was reunited with her husband when he arrived in Switzerland following his missionary labors. She later bore fervent testimony and gave thanks for the eternal truths the gospel brought into her life.

On a clear winter day I was driving with a friend along the freeway which connects downtown Manhattan, New York, with suburban Westchester. He pointed out to me several of the historic sights which abound in this area where man has indiscriminately constructed his ribbon of highway through the pathway of history.

Suddenly, like an old friend, there came into view Yankee Stadium. Here it was—the stadium of champions, the home of my boyhood heroes. Indeed, what boy has not idolized those who, before cheering thousands, played superbly well the game of baseball.

Being winter, the parking lot surrounding the stadium was deserted. Gone were the crowds, the peanut vendors, the ticket clerks. Still present were the memories of Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig, and Joe DiMaggio. The record of their prowess and skill is forever safe—they have been elected to the prestigious Baseball Hall of Fame.

As with baseball, so with life. In the interior of our consciousness, each of us has a private hall of fame reserved exclusively for the real leaders who have influenced the direction of our lives. Relatively few of the many men who exercise authority over us from childhood through adult life meet our test for entry to this roll of honor. That test has very little to do with the outward trappings of power or an abundance of this world’s goods. The leaders whom we admit into this private sanctuary of our reflective meditation are usually those who set our hearts afire with devotion to the truth, who make obedience to duty seem the essence of manhood, who transform some ordinary routine occurrence so that it becomes a vista whence we see the person we aspire to be.

For a moment, perhaps each of us could be the qualifying judge through whom each hall of fame entry must pass. Whom would you nominate for prominent position? Whom would I? Candidates are many—competition severe.

I nominate to the Hall of Fame the name of Adam, the first man to live upon the earth. His citation is from Moses: “And Adam was obedient unto the commandments of the Lord.” (Moses 5:5.) Adam qualifies.

For patient endurance there must be nominated a perfect and upright man whose name was Job. Though afflicted as no other, he declared: “My witness is in heaven, and my record is on high.
“My friends scorn me: but mine eye poureth out tears unto God.” (Job 16:19–20.) “I know that my redeemer liveth.” (Job 19:25.) Job qualifies.

Every Christian would nominate the man Saul, better known as Paul the apostle. His sermons are as manna to the spirit, his life of service an example to all. This fearless missionary declared to the world: “For I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ: for it is the power of God unto salvation.” (Rom. 1:16.) Paul qualifies.

Then there is the man called Simon Peter. His testimony of the Christ stirs the heart:
“When Jesus came into the coasts of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, saying, Whom do men say that I the Son of man am?
“And they said, Some say that thou art John the Baptist; some, Elias; and others, Jeremias, or one of the prophets.
“He saith unto them, But whom say ye that I am?
“And Simon Peter answered and said, Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God.” (Matt. 16:13–16.) Peter qualifies.

Of another time and place we recall the testimony of Nephi:
“I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded, for I know that the Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save he shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the thing which he commandeth them.” (1 Ne. 3:7.) Surely Nephi is worthy of a place in the Hall of Fame.

There is yet another I choose to nominate—even the Prophet Joseph Smith. His faith, his trust, his testimony are reflected by his own words, spoken as he went to Carthage Jail and martyrdom: “I am going like a lamb to the slaughter; but I am calm as a summer’s morning; I have a conscience void of offense towards God, and towards all men.” (D&C 135:4.) He sealed his testimony with his blood. Joseph Smith qualifies.

In our selection of heroes, let us nominate also heroines. First, that noble example of fidelity—even Ruth. Sensing the grief-stricken heart of her mother-in-law, who suffered the loss of each of her two fine sons, and feeling perhaps the pangs of despair and loneliness which plagued the very soul of Naomi, Ruth uttered what has become that classic statement of loyalty: “Intreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God.” (Ruth 1:16.) Ruth’s actions demonstrated the sincerity of her words. There is place for her name in the Hall of Fame.

Shall we not name yet another, a descendant of honored Ruth? I speak of Mary of Nazareth, espoused to Joseph, destined to become the mother of the only sinless man to walk the earth. Her acceptance of this sacred and historic role is a hallmark of humility. “And Mary said, Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word.” (Luke 1:38.) Surely Mary qualifies.

Could we ask the question, “What makes of these men heroes and these women heroines?” I answer, unwavering trust in an all-wise Heavenly Father and an abiding testimony concerning the mission of a divine Savior. This knowledge is like a golden thread woven through the tapestry of their lives.

Who is that King of Glory, even the Redeemer, for whom such heroes and heroines faithfully served and valiantly died? He is Jesus Christ, the Son of God, even our Savior.

His birth was foretold by prophets; angels heralded the announcement of his earthly ministry. To shepherds abiding in their fields came the glorious proclamation:
“Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.
“For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.” (Luke 2:10–11.)

This same Jesus “grew, and waxed strong in spirit, filled with wisdom: and the grace of God was upon him.” (Luke 2:40.) Baptized of John in the river known as Jordan, he commenced his official ministry to men. To the sophistry of Satan, Jesus turned his back. To the duty designated by his Father, he turned his face, pledged his heart, and gave his life. And what a sinless, selfless, noble, and divine life it was. Jesus labored. Jesus loved. Jesus served. Jesus wept. Jesus healed. Jesus taught. Jesus testified. On a cruel cross, Jesus died. From a borrowed sepulchre, Jesus came forth to eternal life.

The name—Jesus of Nazareth—the only name under heaven given among men whereby we must be saved, has singular place and honored distinction in our Hall of Fame.

Some may question: “But what is the value of such an illustrious list of heroes, even a private Hall of Fame?” I answer. When we obey, as did Adam, endure as did Job, teach as did Paul, testify as did Peter, serve as did Nephi, give ourselves as did the prophet Joseph, respond as did Ruth, honor as did Mary, and live as did Christ, we are born anew. All power becomes ours. Cast off forever is the old self and with it defeat, despair, doubt, and disbelief. To a newness of life we come—a life of faith, hope, courage, and joy. No task looms too large. No responsibility weighs too heavily. No duty is a burden. All things become possible.

In our quest for an example, we need not necessarily look to years gone by or to lives lived long ago. Let me illustrate. Today Craig Sudbury presides over a ward here in Salt Lake City, but let me turn back the clock just a few years to the day he and his mother came to my office prior to Craig’s departure for the Australia Melbourne Mission. Fred, Craig’s father, was noticeably absent. Twenty-five years earlier, Craig’s mother had married Fred, who did not share her love for the Church and indeed did not belong to the Church.

Craig confided to me his deep and abiding love for his parents. He shared his innermost hope that somehow, in some way, his father would be touched by the Spirit and open his heart to the gospel of Jesus Christ. He pleaded earnestly with me for a suggestion. I prayed for inspiration concerning how such a desire might be rewarded. Such inspiration came, and I said to Craig, “Serve the Lord with all your heart. Be obedient to your sacred calling. Each week write a letter to your parents and, on occasion, write to Dad personally and let him know that you love him, and tell him why you’re grateful to be his son.”

He thanked me and, with his mother, departed the office. I was not to see Craig’s mother for some 18 months. She came to the office and, in sentences punctuated by tears, said to me, “It has been almost two years since Craig departed for his mission. His faithful service has qualified him for positions of responsibility in the mission field, and he has never failed in writing a letter to us each week. Recently my husband Fred stood for the first time in a testimony meeting and said, ‘All of you know that I am not a member of the Church, but something has happened to me since Craig left for his mission. His letters have touched my soul. May I share one with you?
“‘Dear Dad, Today we taught a choice family about the plan of salvation and the blessings of exaltation in the celestial kingdom. I thought of our family. More than anything in the world, I want to be with you and with Mother in that kingdom. For me it just wouldn’t be a celestial kingdom if you were not there. I’m grateful to be your son, Dad, and want you to know that I love you. Your missionary son, Craig.’
“Fred then announced, ‘My wife doesn’t know what I plan to say. I love her and I love our son, Craig. After 26 years of marriage I have made my decision to become a member of the Church, for I know the gospel message is the word of God. I suppose I have known this truth for a long time, but my son’s mission has moved me to action. I have made arrangements for my wife and me to meet Craig when he completes his mission. I will be his final baptism as a full-time missionary of the Lord.’”

A young missionary with unwavering faith had participated with God in a modern-day miracle. His challenge to communicate with one whom he loved had been made more difficult by the barrier of the thousands of miles which lay between him and his father. But the spirit of love spanned the vast expanse of the blue Pacific, and heart spoke to heart in divine dialogue.

No hero stood so tall as did Craig, when in far-off Australia he stood with his father in water waist deep and, raising his right arm to the square, repeated those sacred words: “Fred Sudbury, having been commissioned of Jesus Christ, I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.”

The prayer of a mother, the faith of a father, the service of a son brought forth the miracle of God. Mother, father, son—each qualifies in a Hall of Fame.

May they and each of us so live as to merit the heavenly pronouncement:
“I, the Lord, am merciful and gracious unto those who fear me, and delight to honor those who serve me in righteousness and in truth unto the end.
“Great shall be their reward and eternal shall be their glory.” (D&C 76:5–6.)

Our place in an everlasting and eternal Hall of Fame will thereby be assured. This is my earnest plea as I leave with you my witness that Jesus of Nazareth is our Savior and Redeemer, even our Advocate with the Father. In the name of Jesus Christ, the Lord. Amen.

About those dinosaurs that need painting. The Ogden Weber Heights Stake wanted service to the community to be part of their youth conference. The city had been building a parkway along the river. One of the attractions was a dinosaur park with full-size replicas of several species of dinosaurs as they must have looked when they roamed the area. The trouble is, replicas have to stay out in the sun and snow, weather that can destroy paint jobs. So paint colors like brontosaurus brown and pterodactyl tan were soon speckling the clothes, faces, and hands of some willing painters. It’s hard to feel down when you’re hanging around the neck of a dinosaur with a paintbrush.

Then the whole stake planned a day to plant trees along the parkway. Jeff Walker, 16, from the Skyline Ward, said, “It’s nice to do something to help make our community look better. After the service project, I drove by with one of my friends. He said, ‘Man, that sure has been cleaned up a lot.’ I told him I helped with that.”

When asked what she would tell other teens in her ward and stake who were wavering about making the decision to participate, Dieuwke Stohel, 17, of the Grandview Ward said, “I would tell them, When you get done, the day cannot go wrong. Once you’re there, you’ll be really glad you went.”

The binding and strengthening power of covenants in our lives became very real to me recently as our dear friends experienced a tragic loss in their family. While Catherine and Kimball Herrod and their four young children, ages nine months to seven years, were driving home from a family dinner at their grandparents’ place, a double wheel from a huge semitruck on the opposite side of the freeway suddenly sprang loose, flew across the median, and pounded into the driver’s side of the family van. Kimball, the driver, husband, and father, was severely injured and unconscious. Catherine somehow guided the car to the shoulder and called for emergency help. While she watched the paramedics work on her husband and two older children, she sat in a police car with her two little ones on her lap and prayed vocally, “Heavenly Father, we know that Thou hast the power to heal Kimball if it is Thy will, but if not, we have faith that somehow Thou wilt sustain us through this.” Kimball was life-flighted to the hospital, but he did not make it there alive.

After the children were treated for cuts, bruises, and other minor injuries, dismissed from the hospital, and safely home in bed, Catherine returned to the hospital to say her final earthly good-bye to her husband. As difficult as it was, she declared to her parents, who were with her, “I know that Kimball and I are sealed by our temple covenants, and we will be together again someday.” In the most terrible trial of a young mother’s life, her covenants sustained her.

At the funeral, we were reminded of the power of covenants to sustain us in moments of distress and grief. As we joined in the closing song, we all heard above the crowd the voice of Taylor, the five-year-old son, loudly singing, “Families Can Be Together Forever” (Hymns, no. 300). It was joyous for the congregation to know that a child had been taught of the sealing covenants that would bind him to his father and mother.

We were also taught the power of covenants in the sermon offered by Catherine’s father. He quoted a scripture from the precious record that Moroni had sealed up and then brought forth to the Prophet Joseph, reminding us that the gospel promises us a rock in the storms and whirlwinds, not an umbrella:
“Remember, remember that it is upon the rock of our Redeemer, who is Christ, the Son of God, that ye must build your foundation; that when the devil shall send forth his mighty winds, … it shall have no power over you to drag you down to the gulf of misery … , because of the rock upon which ye are built, which is a sure foundation” (Hel. 5:12).

The profound strength the family exhibited comes from the knowledge that they are eternally bound to each other as a family, and they are bound to Heavenly Father and cannot be separated from Him.