Gospel Story Finder

During my term as mission president in New England I was responsible for the Joseph Smith Memorial in Vermont. The visitor’s center, with its lawn and gardens, is surrounded by woods.
A doe took up residence there and each spring brought twin fawns onto the lawn. They were tame enough that the caretaker, on occasion, could pick them up.
One fall a bow hunter came into the grounds and killed a half-grown fawn with an arrow. The unsuspecting animal stood watching a few feet away, interested in whatever it was he was doing.
There is no way that man could be classed as a sportsman or even a hunter. “Like shooting fish in a bucket” is the expression.
No doubt both the trophy and the hunt became exaggerated in the conversation of the man, but there is no way his contemptible deed could give him any sense of achievement.
Each year many fall victim in the colleges and universities of our country. There, as captive audiences, their faith, their patriotism, and their morality are lined up against a wall and riddled by words shot from the mouths of irreverent professors.
I hope that while you were taking courses you found time enough after the study of your subject to study the professors. One may well learn more from studying the professor than studying the subject.
Be assured that one who strives to widen the breadth of accepted moral conduct does so to condone what he is doing. Not infrequently you will find him unworthy. If he derides spiritual development, it can generally be concluded that he has failed in the subject. He defends himself by declaring it an unnecessary discipline. He is the one to ridicule faith and humility, to smile in contempt when anyone mentions virtue, or reverence, or dedication, or morality.
Let me give you a clue. There is something very interesting about a person who is anxious to forsake the standards of his church, particularly if he leaves them and encourages others to do likewise.
Have you ever wondered what it means when he can leave it, but he cannot leave it alone? Normal behavior would have him cancel his affiliation in the church and let that be that. Not so with this individual. He can leave it, but he cannot leave it alone. He becomes consumed with it and obsessed with it. That says something about him.
And one might ask, Is he talking to the student, or to himself? You might ask also, and he might ask himself: Is he happy, really happy?
Let me alert you to one other thing.
The professor who is “up-tight” about the subject of religion, the one who can’t, just positively can’t seem to conduct a class without tossing a barb or two at the church, belittling the minister, the rabbi, the priest, the bishop, or the stake president, or at the standards they teach—he is not the major source of concern. His bald-faced brand of prejudice is obvious even to the unwary student. Even the freshman fawn will move aside when he strings his bow.
But there is another that I would like to describe to you. I can best make the point by referring to Shakespeare’s Othello.
Othello claimed the two desires of his life. He became the general—he had arrived at the top—and he won the hand of the lovely Desdemona. Two other characters in the play complete the main cast: Cassio, his trusted lieutenant, and Iago, conspiring and jealous.
Two things Iago wanted in life—to be general and to have Desdemona. Othello had them both.
Motivated by malignant jealousy, he set out to destroy Othello—never openly, always careful and clever. He does not, in the play, tell an open, bald-faced lie. He works by innuendo and suggestion.
“Where is Desdemona tonight?” he would ask.
“Oh, she has gone to Relief Society,” Othello would answer.
“Oh, has she?” Iago would question.
It was not the words—on paper they are a harmless inquiry—but the inflection made them contagious with suspicion.
On one occasion Cassio came to Othello’s home with a message. After a conversation with Desdemona he left to attend to other matters. As he was leaving the home, Othello and Iago approached.
Iago perverted an innocent situation with his comment, “I cannot think it that he would steal away so guilty-like, seeing you coming.”
And so it unfolds. Nothing to incriminate Iago, so innocent was he. Just a sly reference, a gesture, an inflection, the emphasis on the word or the sentence.
Othello is finally convinced that Desdemona is unfaithful and determines to destroy her. The tragedy finally concludes with Othello threatening his innocent wife. She pleads for a week, for a day. Her final plea: “But while I say one prayer.” But he denies her that. How terrible the tragedy of her death when he then finds proof of her innocence.
You may meet an Iago one day. Through innuendo and sly remarks, through an inflection or a question, in mock innocence he might persuade you to kill your faith, to throttle your patriotism, to tamper with drugs, to abandon morality and chastity and virtue. If you do, you have an awakening as terribly tragic as that of Othello.
This is the man that ridicules belief in a hereafter and says there is no such thing as God. He’d better hope he is right. For if, as some of us know, the opposite is true, the final scene will be his, and justice more than poetic and penalties adequate in every way will be exacted from him.
Ultimately we are punished quite as much by our sins as we are for them.
You have completed your studies at an American university. Here, theory has it, learning may be pursued in an atmosphere of academic freedom. Freedom, one might ask, for whom? Some interesting changes have occurred in the past generation.
Some years ago a plaintiff prospered in her grievance concerning the saying of prayers in public schools. The practice was declared unconstitutional by the Supreme Court. The decision was partial. The effect was to offer great encouragement to those who would erase from our society every trace of reference to the Almighty.
She wanted to protect her son from any contact with religion. Her son is protected from my type of religion—my son is exposed to hers.
There is a crying need for the identification of atheism for what it is, and that is, a religion—albeit a negative one, nevertheless it is a religious expression. It is the one extreme end of the spectrum of thought concerning the causation of things.
Those who are spiritually sensitive recognize God as the cause, a living being who rules in the affairs of man. The so-called atheist declares that God is not. Not just that He isn’t the cause of things, but that He indeed is not.
We put sunshine and rain under the heading of weather. It would be a little ridiculous to talk about clear weather and cloudy and claim that the two are not related and could not be considered as part of the same discipline.
When you leave the university and go on to further studies in life, Iago will be there—perhaps not under the title of professor, but he will be clamoring for your attention. It will be interesting for you to see what he will do, subtly, to destroy your faith.
You will have an invitation to compromise your integrity for position, political preference, or for money. You have been tested in college, and I’m sure you have seen a student or two used up. So you will see many consumed in society by those proselyting for others to join them in their unhappiness.
Remember, there are some rights and wrongs. We must come to understand that there are basic truths and basic principles, basic conformities necessary to achieve happiness. There are some things that are false, that are wrong. We cannot be happy and at once be wicked. Never, regardless of how generally accepted that course may be.
If it were printed in every book, run on every news press, set forth in every magazine; if it were broadcast on every frequency, televised from every station, declared from every pulpit, taught in every classroom, advocated in every conversation, still it would be wrong. Wickedness never was happiness, neither indeed can it be, neither indeed ever will it be.
I declare in favor of full academic freedom. If prayer is to leave our schools, let the ridicule of prayer leave also. I speak for humility, for faith, for reverence, for brotherhood, for charity, for patriotism. I speak for temperance, and I likewise speak for justice.
I yearn for the day when the rank and file of our college professors will assert themselves, when the moral fiber in them will set itself against the decay in our public universities.
I pay tribute to those professors, the great body of them, who have taught you well, men and women of integrity who command a discipline and are able to teach it. They are the ones most worth studying. That is something that every freshman should know. They reflect a balance in development of the whole man. These are the men and women to be trusted, to be emulated.
God grant that they may soon look up from their books and turn from their studies and stand to be counted with those administrators who struggle to keep the moral foundation of our universities in place. May those men and women wield heavy influence and plant in the hearts and minds of the students a fundamental respect for truth and for integrity.
Now in conclusion, as you leave the campus satisfied at the things you have gained, go through your pockets to see if something may have been lost—spiritual things—essential if there is to be happiness in your future.
Take with you your faith, your patriotism, your virtue. If they are battered a bit, carry them away with you nevertheless. They can be renewed. You will come to know in the years ahead that life has precious little to offer without them.

I remember the first time I swore. I was repeating a joke to some of my friends, and they all thought it was funny. It wasn’t like I was actually swearing, I thought. “I didn’t think you cussed,” one of my friends laughed. And I didn’t. At least not before then and, after that, not a lot. Not at first anyway.
Less than a year later, I was up there with the best of them—trading cutting remarks, swearing for effect, because people thought it was funny and acceptable, and hating myself more each time I did it. I knew it was wrong, but by that time it was a part of my speech pattern. My language got worse, and along with it went my character. I was in trouble at school and, although I still attended church most of the time, I stopped taking the sacrament.
I remember, too, the first time I tried to quit. A boy I liked at school told me he thought swear words were unladylike. So I promised myself I’d stop. And I did, for a while. Quitting was hard, especially since I had decided to quit for the wrong reasons. My resolve lasted about as long as a high school crush, and then I was back to my old ways.
Along with my unclean language came other bad habits and bad crowds. And when I finally decided to clean up my language, I was engulfed in other sins I needed to clear up. But this time I had decided to quit for the right reasons. Because I wanted to repent. I wanted to be clean in God’s sight, and not just to act ladylike.
Elder L. Tom Perry says if we reconstruct our sentences after we swear, minus the offending word, gradually our thought patterns and speech patterns will change (see New Era, Aug. 1986, 7). Substituting similar words that aren’t really swear words is nearly as bad because everyone knows what we meant to say. We need to replace the bad words or thoughts with something wholesome for this formula to work.
This was no short process. And it was hard—hard to regain control of my life and rebuild my testimony. Speech might seem like a small thing when there are so many other worse things we could be doing. My first offense seemed so innocent at the time. I realize now that the world tries to make sins—regardless of their size—look insignificant, but any sin offends the Spirit. And when the Spirit wasn’t with me, I wasn’t under God’s influence and I grew farther from Him.
Putting my decision into action brought the Spirit back into my life. I could again feel the Lord’s guiding influence, and He helped me with all the other problems in my life when I was sincerely trying.

And then there is Maddy. When her family stopped attending church, Maddy was confused and not certain what to do. She realized something significant was missing. So at age 13, Maddy began attending church alone. Even though being alone was sometimes hard and uncomfortable, she knew she could find the Savior at church and she wanted to be where He was. She said, “In church my soul felt like it was at home.”

Maddy held onto the fact that her family had been sealed together for eternity. She started bringing her younger brothers with her to church and studying scriptures with them at home. Eventually her mom began joining them. Maddy told her mom of her desire to serve a mission and asked if her mom could be ready to attend the temple with her.

Today Maddy is in the MTC. She is serving. She is witnessing of Christ. Her example helped lead both of her parents back to the temple and back to Christ.

Like many people, Pedro sets goals for himself. Unlike a lot of people, Pedro consistently reaches those goals. “If he sets a goal,” his father said, “he doesn’t rest until he has reached it. He fights hard to reach it, and he always gains it. For example, we were talking about what he wanted to do professionally. He said that he wanted to be a lawyer. I made a promise to him that if he worked hard enough to get accepted into Harvard Law School, I would somehow find a way to support him financially.” Pedro knows that fulfilling his dream means getting good grades and learning to speak English well. He is working hard at both.

I read the magazine all the time, especially the Mormonisms. But this time, instead of just skimming over the Question and Answer section, I actually read what it said. I just want to let you know that when I read Q&A, tears came to my eyes. It reminded me of how many rough times I have had over the past year. For the longest time I would just cry in my bedroom about all these things and not tell anyone why I was upset. I remember a lot of times just asking Heavenly Father why I was going through this. This article helped me see that I can always ask for help and he will help me.
Leita MooreAngus, Ontario, Canada

When I was baptized at 18 years old, I knew that living the gospel of Jesus Christ would become a way of life. I felt the importance and seriousness of living gospel standards, and doing so has blessed my life in many ways.
One gospel principle that is really important to me is honoring the Sabbath day. It allows me to stop my daily routine and to focus my thoughts on my Heavenly Father.
I work in a tourism business in Costa Rica. In this industry, it is typical for people to work on Sundays. When I started my job, I identified myself as a member of the Church. I requested—and was granted—Sundays off.
Because of my unusual request, my colleagues and my boss were curious. They asked me a lot of questions about my beliefs. Over time I had opportunities to explain to them some of the things that Latter-day Saints believe. In many cases my explanations of gospel doctrines earned their respect.
One day my boss gathered our staff for an announcement. “I need you all to come to work for the next two weekends,” he said. My heart sank. I knew this meant I would need to work on Sunday.
But then my boss continued: “That is, everyone except Juan Carlos. We know that nothing is going to make him come to work on Sunday.”
I was relieved. My boss had honored my request! Because of my behavior and the standards I exhibited at work, I had gained his respect. As a result he was willing to honor my beliefs.
I know that as we make gospel standards a priority in our lives, the Lord will bless us.

Brethren, it is a great thrill to think that we are part of a congregation of 225,000 men and boys. Some of you are a little darker, some of you have slant eyes, but you are all men and brethren, and we love you. We are grateful that you are associated with us tonight in this great meeting.
You have been hearing some very solid, firm doctrine here tonight. I want to begin by telling you a story. I suppose all of you young men learned the Articles of Faith before you became a member of the priesthood. I am wondering if you have retained in your mind those articles. I wonder if you know them word-perfect. Would you like to tell your fathers when you go home, if you know the Articles of Faith word-perfect?
Some years ago a young Primary boy was on a train going to California in the days when we traveled on trains. He was all alone. He sat near the window watching the telephone poles go by. Across the aisle from him was a gentleman who also was going to California. The attention of the gentleman was called to this very young boy traveling all alone without friends or relatives. He was neatly dressed and well-behaved. And this gentleman was quite impressed with him.
Finally, after some time, the gentleman crossed the aisle and sat down by the young man and said to him, “Hello, young man, where are you going?”
He said, “I am going to Los Angeles.”
“Do you have relatives there?”
The boy said, “I have some relatives there. I am going to visit my grandparents. They will meet me at the station, and I will stay with them a few days during the school vacation.”
The next questions were “Where did you come from?” and “Where do you live?”
And the boy said, “Salt Lake City, Utah.”
“Oh, then,” said the gentleman, “you must be a Mormon.”
And the boy said, “Yes, I am.” There was pride in his voice.
The gentleman said, “Well, that’s interesting. I’ve wondered about the Mormons and what they believe. I’ve been through their beautiful city; I’ve noticed the beautiful buildings, the treelined streets, the lovely homes, the beautiful rose and flower gardens, but I’ve never stopped to find out what makes them as they are. I wish I knew what they believe.”
And the boy said to him, “Well, sir, I can tell you what they believe. ‘We believe in God, the Eternal Father, and in His Son, Jesus Christ, and in the Holy Ghost.’” (A of F 1:1.
The businessman was a bit surprised but listened intently, and the boy continued, “‘We believe that men will be punished for their own sins, and not for Adam’s transgression.’” (A of F 1:2.)
And the traveling companion thought, “This is rather unusual for a mere boy to know these important things.”
The boy went on: “‘We believe that through the Atonement of Christ, all mankind may be saved, by obedience to the laws and ordinances of the Gospel.’” (A of F 1:3.) And the gentleman was amazed at the knowledge and understanding of a mere boy—he was yet to be a Scout. But he continued and gave the fourth Article of Faith and said, “‘We believe that the first principles and ordinances of the Gospel are: first, Faith in the Lord Jesus Christ; second, Repentance; third, Baptism by immersion for the remission of sins; fourth, Laying on of hands for the gift of the Holy Ghost.’”
“That is wonderful,” said the gentleman. “I am amazed that you know so well the doctrines of your church. I commend you.”
With a good start and with encouragement, Johnny continued. “‘We believe that a man must be called of God, by prophecy, and by the laying on of hands, by those who are in authority to preach the Gospel and administer in the ordinances thereof.’” (A of F 1:5.)
“That’s very solid doctrine, my boy,” the gentleman said. “I am curious now to know how they get called of God. I can understand how they would receive the call and be established with the laying on of hands, but I wonder who has the authority to preach the gospel and administer in the ordinances thereof.”
They discussed the matter of calling and sustaining and laying on of hands. Then the lad said, “Would you like to know more?”
The gentleman thought that was very unusual for a boy in these tender years to know what the Church taught, and he said, “Yes, go on.”
So Johnny quoted, “‘We believe in the same organization that existed in the Primitive Church, viz., apostles, prophets, pastors, teachers, evangelists, etc.’” (A of F 1:6.)
That brought some other discussion. “You mean that your church has apostles such as James and John and Peter and Paul, and prophets such as Moses, Abraham, Isaac, and Daniel, and also evangelists?”
And the boy responded quickly, “Yes, even evangelists. We call them patriarchs and they are appointed in all parts of the Church where there are stakes. And by inspiration they give to all the members of the Church, as required, what is called a patriarchal blessing. I have already had my patriarchal blessing, and I read it frequently. Now we have twelve apostles who have the same calling and the same authority as given to the apostles in the days of old.”
The gentleman came back with these questions: “Do you speak in tongues? Do you believe in revelations and prophecies?”
And the boy brightened up as he quoted, “‘We believe in the gift of tongues, prophecy, revelation, visions, healing, interpretation of tongues, etc.’” (A of F 1:7.)
The gentleman gasped. “This sounds like you believe in the Bible!”
And the boy repeated again, “We do. ‘We believe the Bible to be the word of God as far as it is translated correctly; we also believe the Book of Mormon to be the word of God.’” (A of F 1:8.)
The gentleman discerned that we believe both in the scriptures and in revelation. And the boy quoted, “‘We believe all that God has revealed, all that He does now reveal, and we believe that He will yet reveal many great and important things pertaining to the Kingdom of God.’” (A of F 1:9.) And then he continued, “‘We believe [also] in the literal gathering of Israel and in the restoration of the Ten Tribes; that Zion will be built upon this [the American] continent; that Christ will reign personally upon the earth; and, that the earth will be renewed and receive its paradisiacal glory.’” (A of F 1:10.)
The gentleman was listening intently. He showed no interest in crossing the aisle back to his own seat. Then Johnny came in again. He said, “‘We claim the privilege of worshiping Almighty God according to the dictates of our own conscience, and allow all men the same privilege, let them worship how, where, or what they may.’” (A of F 1:11.) He then continued, “‘We believe in being subject to kings, presidents, rulers, and magistrates, in obeying, honoring, and sustaining the law.’” (A of F 1:12.)
And then as a final contribution, the boy repeated the thirteenth Article of Faith. “‘We believe in being honest, true, chaste, benevolent, virtuous, and in doing good to all men; indeed, we may say that we follow the admonition of Paul—We believe all things, we hope all things, we have endured many things, and hope to be able to endure all things. If there is anything virtuous, lovely, or of good report or praiseworthy, we seek after these things.’”
This youngster relaxed now as he finished the Articles of Faith. The gentleman was clearly excited, not only at the ability of this young boy to outline the whole program of the Church, but at the very completeness of its doctrine.
He said, “You know, after I have been to Los Angeles a couple of days, I expect to go back to New York where my office is. I am going to wire my company that I will be a day or two late and that I am going to stop in Salt Lake City en route home and go to the information bureau there and hear all the things, in more detail, about what you have told me.”
I am wondering how many of you know the Articles of Faith? How many of you big men, as well as the little men? Do you know them? Have you repeated them? You are always prepared with a sermon when you know the Articles of Faith. And they are basic, aren’t they? I would think it would be a wonderful thing if all the boys, as they learn them, would learn them word perfect. That means that you don’t miss and you don’t forget.
Shall I tell you how I did it? I think I have told you before, but I used to milk cows. I typed with two fingers, and I would type out these Articles of Faith on little cards and put them down in the corral right by me when I sat on the one-legged stool and milked the cows. And I repeated them over, I guess 20 million times. I don’t know. But at any rate, I have claimed that I could say the Articles of Faith now after these many, many years and could say them word-perfect. And I think it has been most valuable to me. Will you do that, my fine young men?

There are many ways in which we can misuse our opportunities. Some time ago I read a tender story written by Louise Dickinson Rich which vividly illustrates this truth. She wrote:
“My grandmother had an enemy named Mrs. Wilcox. Grandma and Mrs. Wilcox moved, as brides, into next-door houses on … Main Street of the tiny town in which they were to live out their lives. I don’t know what started the war [between them]—and I don’t think that by the time I came along, over 30 years later, they themselves remembered what started it. …
“… This was no polite sparring match. This was … total war. Nothing in town escaped repercussion. The 300-year-old church, which had lived through the Revolution, the Civil War, and the Spanish-American War, almost went down when Grandma and Mrs. Wilcox fought the Battle of the Ladies’ Aid. Grandma won that engagement, but it was a hollow victory. Mrs. Wilcox, since she couldn’t be president, resigned … in a huff. … What’s the fun of running a thing if you can’t force your … enemy to ‘eat crow’?
“Mrs. Wilcox won the Battle of the Public Library, getting her niece, Gertrude, appointed librarian instead of my Aunt Phyllis. The day Gertrude took over was the day Grandma stopped reading library books. [They became] ‘filthy germy things’ … overnight.
“The Battle of the High School was a draw. The principal got a better job and left before Mrs. Wilcox succeeded in having him ousted, or Grandma in having him given life tenure of office.
“… When, as children, we visited my grandmother, part of the fun was making faces at Mrs. Wilcox’s … grandchildren. … One banner day, we put a snake into the Wilcox rain barrel. My grandmother made token protests, but we sensed tacit sympathy. …
“Don’t think for a minute that this was a one-sided campaign. Mrs. Wilcox had grandchildren, too. … Grandma didn’t get off scot free. … Never a windy washday went by [that the clothesline didn’t mysteriously break, with the clothes falling in the dirt].
“I don’t know how Grandma could have borne her troubles so long if it hadn’t been for the household page of her daily Boston newspaper. This household page was a wonderful institution. Besides the usual cooking hints and cleaning advice, it had a department composed of letters from readers to each other. The idea was that if you had a problem—or even only some steam to blow off—you wrote a letter to the paper, signing some fancy name like Arbutus. That was Grandma’s pen name. Then some of the other ladies who had the same problem wrote back and told you what they had done about it, signing themselves One Who Knows or Xanthippe or whatever. Very often, the problem disposed of, you kept on for years writing to each other through the columns of the paper, telling each other about your children and your canning and your new dining room suite. That’s what happened to Grandma. She and a woman called Sea Gull corresponded for a quarter of a century. Sea Gull was Grandma’s true … friend.
“When I was about 16, Mrs. Wilcox died. In a small town, no matter how much you have hated your next-door neighbor, it is only common decency to run over and see what practical service you can do the bereaved.
“Grandma, neat in a percale apron to show that she meant what she said about being put to work, crossed the two lawns to the Wilcox house, where the Wilcox daughters set her to cleaning the already immaculate front parlor for the funeral. And there on the parlor table in the place of honor was a huge scrapbook, and in the scrapbook, pasted neatly in parallel columns were [Grandma’s] letters to Sea Gull over the years and Sea Gull’s letters to her. [Though neither woman had known it,] Grandma’s worst enemy had been her best friend.
“That was the only time I remembered seeing my grandmother cry. I didn’t know then exactly what she was crying about, but I do now. She was crying for all the wasted years that could never be salvaged.”

When President George Albert Smith was young, his deceased grandfather George A. Smith appeared to him in a dream and asked, “I would like to know what you have done with my name.” President Smith responded, “I have never done anything with your name of which you need be ashamed.”1
Each week as we partake of the sacrament, we covenant and promise that we are willing to take upon us the name of Christ, always remember Him, and keep His commandments. If we are willing to do so, we are promised that most wonderful blessing—that His Spirit will always be with us.2
Just as President George Albert Smith had to account to his grandfather for what he had done with his name, someday each one of us will have to account to our Savior, Jesus Christ, for what we have done with His name.
The importance of having a good name is spoken of in Proverbs, where we read: “A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches, and loving favour rather than silver and gold”3 and “The [name] of the just is blessed.”4
As I pondered these scriptures and the importance of having a good name, a flood of memories came into my mind about the good name and legacy my parents left my four brothers, my two sisters, and me. My parents did not have the riches of the world, nor did they have silver or gold. Nine of us lived in a two-bedroom, one-bath home with an enclosed back porch, where my sisters slept. When my parents passed away, my brothers and sisters and I gathered to divide their earthly possessions, which were few in number. My mother left a few dresses, some used furniture, and a few other personal items. My father left some carpenter tools, some old hunting rifles, and little else. The only things of any monetary value were a modest home and a small savings account.
Together we wept openly, giving thanks, knowing they had left us something much more precious than silver or gold. They had given us their love and their time. They had often borne testimony of the truthfulness of the gospel, which we can now read in their precious journals. Not so much by words but more by their example, they had taught us to work hard, to be honest, and to pay a full tithing. They also engendered a desire to further our education, to serve a mission, and most important, to find an eternal companion, be married in the temple, and endure to the end. Truly they left us the legacy of a good name, for which we shall ever be grateful.

I think of a meeting in Brazil where I had a translator who was unsure of her ability to convert my English into Portuguese. But as it turned out, she and I communicated with ease. After the meeting I found out why. I learned that not only had the General Authority who presided been literally on the edge of his seat behind us the entire meeting, prompting the translator when necessary, but he had also assigned another priesthood leader to pray for both of us throughout the meeting.

That General Authority created a safety net of support so that I could fulfill the assignment he had given me. Such a circle of support has no end, because there is no end to the good works of righteous men and women who respect each other and who thrust in their sickles and reap, side by side, in the Lord’s vineyard. If we are going to build the kingdom of God, we as men and women of God must build each other. There is no challenge—with activation, retention, families, or anything—that we can’t solve when we counsel together in councils and help each other lift the load.

Alex’s testimony was strengthened further following a dream he had in which he was called on a full-time mission. He began preparing but didn’t wait until he was 19 to begin sharing the gospel, starting with his own family.
“Alex always prayed for and encouraged his family,” says Bishop Sayas. “And he would always encourage his older brothers to attend church. The effort to bring his family back succeeded because of Alex.”
“It was Alex who was always working with us and with ward members on our behalf,” Carmen says. “They told us he was always praying for his parents to return to church. We’re grateful he didn’t give up on us.”
If Latter-day Saints are good examples, Alex says, others will eventually take notice. “If we are happy and content in the Church, others are going to want to partake of our happiness. If we endure and move forward, miracles can occur.”

A few years ago, just before Easter weekend, it rained all week long. I had been in Benin, West Africa, but was coming home to spend Easter in Togo. It didn’t rain on Saturday, the day I arrived, but that night it began raining again.
I knew that church started at 9:00 a.m. on Sunday, but because it had been raining so much and I’d only just arrived, I decided that was too early for me.
I thought to myself, “I’ll go a little bit late to church and get there at 10:00 a.m.” Then I went to see my brother. “Instead of going to church at 9:00,” I told him, “let’s go over to that patch of land on the side of my house.”
When we arrived, we noticed that the ground was nice and wet from all the rain. I thought, “It’s Sunday, and we’re waiting until 10:00 to go to church. Why not plant some beans before we go?”
So my brother and I planted a little patch of land that was about 65 square feet (6 m2). Then we went to church, an hour late. The next day we went to a nearby town where I had another plot of land. There we planted corn and more beans.
Two months later when I returned home again, I went to check that little patch of land next to my house. It was empty except for a little clump of weeds that I tripped over as I walked into the field. “Oh, yeah,” I said to myself, “we planted beans here on Easter Sunday!”
Out of all the seeds we sowed, the only thing that grew was a clump of weeds. The beans and corn we planted in the other field the Monday after Easter, however, grew just fine. Since that time everything we have planted in the patch of land next to my house has grown normally.
I hadn’t kept the Sabbath day holy that Easter Sunday, and I tripped over a clump of weeds to remind me that I hadn’t. Since then, I have remembered that I can’t just do whatever I feel like doing on the Lord’s day. Instead, I always remember to keep the Sabbath day holy.

Maike Adler:
“I grew up as a member, but about the time I was 14, I had to decide how committed I was—which way my life would go. Would I go with my friends to the parties they kept inviting me to, or would I go to seminary? I talked to my parents, and I prayed. I gained a testimony, and I knew I had to go to seminary.
“Without the Savior, my whole life would be totally different—my friends, my values. I wouldn’t know why I’m here. There are a lot of people with advice, but the values and morals of the world change and shift. If I’m built on something that’s not firm and it shifts, I have to rebuild every time. You have to have something unchanging to build on. Christ never changes. His right is always right. You can lean on Him. He never lets you fall.”

For the past few years I have had the privilege of home teaching with an ordained teacher part of the time and a priest with whom I am teaching at the present time. They make the appointments and take their turn in presenting and leading the discussions. The other day my home teaching companion called me and said that the head of one of the families we visit was in the hospital and suggested that we go to see him. We did and blessed him.

I was called to serve in the New Zealand Wellington Mission. When I knew I needed to go home early, I felt like I had let Heavenly Father and my parents down.
I’ve learned so much from my mission and from this situation. I never needed to rely on Heavenly Father and the Savior’s Atonement like I did when I came home early. I needed to trust God and accept whatever He wanted me to go through and learn. I cannot deny the power of the Atonement and how I’ve truly come to know that Jesus Christ is my Savior. I’ve learned that God humbles me and teaches me through my weaknesses and hard times.
No matter where I am, or whether I have a name tag on my chest, I’m still a disciple of Jesus Christ. I know that the Lord still loves me and is with me, and He wants me to keep serving others. And even though I’m home, I know I’m not a failure because He’s helped me become a better person through this experience.
Natasha Krisanalome, Thailand

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.

Another help that almost every person interviewed mentioned for bringing a new family close is showing physical affection. You’re not being disloyal to a natural parent by giving a stepparent a hug. You hug your friends, don’t you? “I remember one thing that really made me feel closer to my stepmom,” says Chris Smith. “I’d just gotten home from a trip, and she gave me a big hug—that made me realize she was really happy to see me. That was good.”

I was at church, and I was listening to the talks. Someone said, “a service is service no matter how small.” And that gave me an idea. I called it “The Service Club.” I took paper and a few markers and made invitation cards. Then I cut them out and gave them away.
Last Sunday was the first meeting, and we decided to do nice sidewalk chalk messages at the homes of people who needed encouragement. We did that for six families! I feel good that we did the service club. I’m glad we did service. The club’s motto is “a service is service no matter how small.”

While living and working in Alaska a number of years ago, I had occasion to go on a fishing trip with a group of young men that included one of my sons. The other adult leaders and I knew that the area we would be camping in was bear country, so prior to the trip, we gathered the boys together to discuss certain safety measures.
We talked about four basic rules to remember when fishing in bear country: First, don’t do things that would invite a bear into the camp. For example, don’t store food out in the open that would attract the bears. Second, keep the camp clean. Take care of all garbage. If you catch and clean fish, get rid of the entrails and slime. Third, if a bear does come, know how to defend yourself. Drop down, be still, and play dead. Fourth, if someone gets hurt or is attacked by a bear, know how to get help. Signal to others that you are in trouble, and keep a good orientation of your surroundings so that you know the fastest way to go for assistance.
I am confident that all would have gone well on that trip had we kept all those rules. But we didn’t! On our last day we cleaned fish in the center of the camp and didn’t properly dispose of the remains. That night a Kodiak bear wandered into camp. We had just settled inside our tents, when we heard its panting. We literally froze in fear. We couldn’t talk.
Luckily for us, the bear got what it was after and nothing more. It found and ate some of the fish we had cleaned, and it ran off with two buckets, which were filled with the day’s catch. But it left us alone and didn’t do more harm.

Sister Patricia Parkinson was born with normal eyesight, but at age seven she began to go blind. At age nine, Pat began attending the Utah Schools for the Deaf and Blind in Ogden, Utah, some 90 miles (145 km) from her home, necessitating her boarding at the school—which included all of the homesickness that a nine-year-old could possibly experience.
By age 11, she had completely lost her eyesight. Pat returned home permanently at age 15 to attend her local high school. She went on to college and graduated with an undergraduate degree in communication disorders and psychology, and after a heroic struggle against doubting university admissions officials, she entered graduate school and completed a master’s degree in speech language pathology. Pat now works with 53 elementary school students and supervises four speech-language technicians in her school district. She owns her own home and her own automobile, which friends and family members drive when Pat needs transportation.
At age 10, Pat was scheduled to have yet another medical procedure to address her diminishing eyesight. Her parents had always told her exactly what was going to happen in terms of her medical care, but for some reason they didn’t tell her about this particular procedure. When her parents did tell her that the procedure had been scheduled, Pat, in the words of her mother, “was a mess.” Pat ran to the other room but came back later and said to her parents with some indignation, “Let me tell you what. I know it, God knows it, and you might as well know it too. I am going to be blind the rest of my life!”
Several years ago, Pat traveled to California to visit family members who were living there. While she was outside with her three-year-old nephew, he said to her, “Aunt Pat, why don’t you just ask Heavenly Father to give you new eyes? Because if you ask Heavenly Father, He will give you whatever you want. You just have to ask Him.”
Pat said she was taken aback by the question but responded, “Well, sometimes Heavenly Father doesn’t work like that. Sometimes He needs you to learn something, and so He doesn’t give you everything you want. Sometimes you have to wait. Heavenly Father and the Savior know best what is good for us and what we need. So They aren’t going to grant you everything you want in the moment you want it.”
I’ve known Pat for many years and recently told her that I admired the fact that she is always positive and happy. She responded, “Well, you have not been at home with me, have you? I have my moments. I’ve had rather severe bouts of depression, and I’ve cried a lot.” However, she added, “From the time I started losing my sight, it was strange, but I knew that Heavenly Father and the Savior were with my family and me. We handled it the best way we could, and in my opinion, we handled it the right way. I have ended up being a successful enough person, and generally I have been a happy person. I remember His hand being in everything. To those who ask me if I am angry because I am blind, I respond, ‘Who would I be angry with? Heavenly Father is in this with me; I am not alone. He is with me all the time.’”
In this case, Pat’s desire to regain her sight will not be granted in this life. But her motto, learned from her father, is “This too shall pass.”10