Gospel Story Finder

Last January, seven-year-old Sailor Gutzler and her family were flying from Florida to Illinois in a private airplane. Sailor’s father was at the controls. Just after nightfall, the aircraft developed mechanical problems and crashed in the pitch-dark hills of Kentucky, upside down in very rough terrain. Everyone but Sailor died in the accident. Her wrist was broken in the crash. She suffered cuts and scrapes and had lost her shoes. The temperature was 38 degrees Fahrenheit (or 3 degrees Celsius)—it was a cold, rainy Kentucky winter’s night—and Sailor was wearing only shorts, a T-shirt, and one sock.
She cried out for her mother and father, but no one answered. Summoning every ounce of courage, she set off barefoot across the countryside in search of help, wading through creeks, crossing ditches, and braving blackberry briars. From the top of one small hill, Sailor spotted a light in the distance, about a mile away. Stumbling through the darkness and brush toward that light, she eventually arrived at the home of a kind man she had never met before who sprang to her care. Sailor was safe. She would soon be taken to a hospital and helped on her way to recovery.1
Sailor survived because she saw a light in the distance and fought her way to it—notwithstanding the wild countryside, the depth of the tragedy she faced, and the injuries she had sustained. It is hard to imagine how Sailor managed to do what she did that night. But what we do know is that she recognized in the light of that distant house a chance for rescue. There was hope. She took courage in the fact that no matter how bad things were, her rescue would be found in that light.
Few of us will ever endure an experience as harrowing as Sailor’s. But all of us will, at some time or another, have to traverse our own spiritual wilderness and undertake our own rugged emotional journeys. In those moments, however dark or seemingly hopeless they may be, if we search for it, there will always be a spiritual light that beckons to us, giving us the hope of rescue and relief. That light shines from the Savior of all mankind, who is the Light of the World.
Perceiving spiritual light is different from seeing physical light. Recognizing the Savior’s spiritual light begins with our willingness to believe. God requires that initially we at least desire to believe. “If ye will awake and arouse your faculties … and exercise a particle of faith,” the prophet Alma teaches, “yea, even if ye can no more than desire to believe, let this desire work in you, even until ye believe in a manner that ye can give place for a portion of [the Savior’s] words.”2
Alma’s call for us to desire to believe and to “give place” in our hearts for the Savior’s words reminds us that belief and faith require our personal choice and action. We must “awake and arouse [our] faculties.” We ask before it is given unto us; we seek before we find; we knock before it is opened unto us. We are then given this promise: “For every one that asketh, receiveth; and he that seeketh, findeth; and to him that knocketh, it shall be opened.”3
No more impassioned plea for us to believe has come than from the Savior Himself, during His earthly ministry, when He appealed to His disbelieving listeners:
“If I do not the works of my Father, believe me not.
“But if I do, though ye believe not me, believe the works: that ye may know, and believe, that the Father is in me, and I in him.”4
Every day each of us faces a test. It is the test of our lifetimes: will we choose to believe in Him and allow the light of His gospel to grow within us, or will we refuse to believe and insist on traveling alone in the dark? The Savior provides His gospel as a light to guide those who choose to believe in and follow Him.
After the crash, Sailor had a choice. She could have chosen to stay by the airplane in the dark, alone and afraid. But there was a long night ahead, and it was just going to get colder. She chose another way. Sailor climbed up a hill, and there she saw a light on the horizon.
Gradually, as she made her way through the night toward the light, it grew brighter. Still, there must have been times when she could not see it. Perhaps it went out of view when she was in a ravine or behind trees or bushes, but she pressed on. Whenever she could see the light, Sailor had evidence that she was on the right path. She did not yet know precisely what that light was, but she kept walking toward it based on what she knew, trusting and hoping that she would see it again if she kept moving in the right direction. By so doing, she may have saved her life.
Our lives can be like that too. There may be times when we have been hurt, when we are tired, and when our lives seem dark and cold. There may be times when we cannot see any light on the horizon, and we may feel like giving up. If we are willing to believe, if we desire to believe, if we choose to believe, then the Savior’s teachings and example will show us the pathway forward.
Just as Sailor had to believe that she would find safety in that distant light, so we too must choose to open our hearts to the divine reality of the Savior—to His eternal light and His healing mercy. Prophets across the ages have encouraged us and even implored us to believe in Christ. Their exhortations reflect a fundamental fact: God does not force us to believe. Instead He invites us to believe by sending living prophets and apostles to teach us, by providing scriptures, and by beckoning to us through His Spirit. We are the ones who must choose to embrace those spiritual invitations, electing to see with inward eyes the spiritual light with which He calls us. The decision to believe is the most important choice we ever make. It shapes all our other decisions.
God does not compel us to believe any more than He compels us to keep any commandments, despite His perfect desire to bless us. Yet His call to us to believe in Him—to exercise that particle of faith and to give place for His words—remains in effect today. As the Savior said, “I bear record that the Father commandeth all men, everywhere, to repent and believe in me.”5
Belief and testimony and faith are not passive principles. They do not just happen to us. Belief is something we choose—we hope for it, we work for it, and we sacrifice for it. We will not accidentally come to believe in the Savior and His gospel any more than we will accidentally pray or pay tithing. We actively choose to believe, just like we choose to keep other commandments.
Sailor could not know at first if what she was doing as she pushed her way through the underbrush would actually work. She was lost and injured; it was dark and cold. But she left the crash site and ventured out in hope of rescue, crawling and scraping her way forward until she saw a light in the distance. Once she had seen it, she did her best to move toward it, remembering what she had seen.
We likewise must give place for the hope that we will find spiritual light by embracing belief rather than choosing to doubt. Our actions are the evidence of our belief and become the substance of our faith. We are choosing to believe when we pray and when we read the scriptures. We are choosing to believe when we fast, when we keep the Sabbath day holy, and when we worship in the temple. We are choosing to believe when we are baptized and when we partake of the sacrament. We are choosing to believe when we repent and seek divine forgiveness and healing love.
Sometimes progress in spiritual things can seem slow or intermittent. Sometimes we may feel that we have lost ground, that we have made mistakes, or that our best efforts to find the Savior are not working. If you feel this way, please do not give up—ever. Go right on believing in Him and in His gospel and His Church. Align your actions with that belief. In those moments when the light of your faith has dimmed, let your hope for the Savior’s love and grace, found in His gospel and His Church, overcome your doubt. I promise that He stands ready to receive you. Over time you will come to see that you have made the best choice you could possibly have made. Your courageous decision to believe in Him will bless you immeasurably and forever.
I have felt the merciful love of the Savior in my life. I have searched for Him in my own moments of darkness, and He has reached out to me with His healing light. One of the great joys of my life has been traveling with my wife, Kathy, to meet with members of the Church in many corners of the globe. These wonderful encounters have taught me and taught us about God’s love for His children. They have shown me the limitless potential for happiness that becomes the blessing of those who choose to follow the teachings of the Lord Jesus Christ. I have learned that believing in Him and in His redemptive power is the true path to “peace in this world, and eternal life in the world to come.”6
I testify that Jesus Christ is the source of light and hope for all of us. I pray that we may all choose to believe in Him. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

I remember well the afternoon a few years ago when I went up in an airplane with an instructor for a lesson on flying using the control panel instruments only with no reference to the surrounding countryside.
It was a crystal clear day, though a few gusty winds were blowing. We left the field, flying due north into a chilly wind blowing directly against us. When we reached the right altitude, the instructor put a special hood over my head so that all I could see was the instrument panel. After an hour’s lesson we stopped in an airport about a hundred miles north to eat and make another check on the weather.
It was early evening when we climbed into the airplane for our return flight. Both of us were a little nervous because a small storm was moving into our flight path, and as we climbed toward the clouds we could feel the increased power of the winds. Now we would have an opportunity for some real instrument flying.
I wasn’t really worried until the instructor told me to put on the hood because I was going to fly us home. As we flew into the storm, the weather started tossing us around. But the instructor assured me that things were well under control: all I had to do was fly by the instruments just as I had done in practice, and follow his directions.
As the minutes went by and we flew deeper into the turbulence, a terrible fear began to grip me and I began to feel a dizziness as if the airplane were in a turn, slightly diving. Panicking, I started making what I perceived as corrections to our flight. My instructor had to tell me four times that the instruments were correct and that I should trust them, not my own judgment.
After several more minutes of agony and constant reassurances from my instructor that the instruments were indeed telling the truth, I couldn’t take the suspense any longer and tore off the hood to see for myself. When I looked through the window, all I could see was the rain streaking out of a pitch-black sky at us. My face went pale, and a terrified expression swept over me.
My instructor said, “Norman, you’ve been sitting here for twenty-five minutes with a clear signal and true instruments to follow, but you’ve steered off course thirty-two times and have dropped the airplane nine hundred feet in elevation. Now you really don’t know where you are. Let me show you something.”
He took the controls and with little effort started climbing up through the clouds. Eight hundred feet later we were above the tops of the clouds that were glistening under the light of a beautiful full moon. In the near distance on the side of a hill we saw two large red lights on top of a broadcasting tower. On the other side of that hill through an opening in the clouds we could see a faint green and white airport light flashing out a signal that to us meant home.
After a safe landing, I felt that I had been taught one of those great lessons we are sent here to earth to learn: that the Lord gives us fine instruments, a good strong signal, and many clear markers, and still we sometimes stray from their indications and fall into a sea of confusion. Yet if we will trust those signals and follow them, whether we fully understand them or not, we will be able to fly above the clouds, safe and secure, knowing our course and our destination.

One of our daughters, after giving birth to a baby, became seriously ill. We prayed for her, administered to her, and supported her as best we could. We hoped she would receive a blessing of healing, but days turned into months, and months turned into years. At one point I told her that this affliction might be something she would have to struggle with the rest of her life.
One morning I remember pulling out a small card and threading it through my typewriter. Among the words that I typed for her were these: “The simple secret is this: put your trust in the Lord, do your best, then leave the rest to Him.”
She did put her trust in God. But her affliction did not disappear. For years she suffered, but in due course, the Lord blessed her, and eventually she returned to health.
Knowing this daughter, I believe that even if she had never found relief, yet she would have trusted in her Heavenly Father and “[left] the rest to Him.”

Let me give you an example of counsel from one of the Twelve. Nearly two years ago Elder Dallin H. Oaks addressed you in an evening like we are sharing tonight. You will remember that he caught your attention when he raised the issue of dating rather than “hanging out.” He said:
My single young friends, we counsel you to channel your associations with the opposite sex into dating patterns that have the potential to mature into marriage, not hanging-out patterns that only have the prospect to mature into team sports like touch football.
Now, the important question: What did you do following his talk? Did anything change? Elder Henry B. Eyring gave this warning:
The failure to take prophetic counsel lessens our power to take inspired counsel in the future. . . .
Every time in my life when I have chosen to delay following inspired counsel or decided that I was an exception, I came to know that I had put myself in harm’s way. Every time that I have listened to the counsel of prophets, felt it confirmed in prayer, and then followed it, I have found that I moved toward safety.
How do your actions over the past two years show that you are holding fast to the iron rod? Those who responded positively and promptly to Elder Oaks’s counsel surely found that the blessings of heaven followed. Let me read from a letter sent to Church headquarters from a couple in Arizona more than a year after his talk:

Your remarks have had a lasting impact on our lives. . . .
. . . Your direct and clear counsel helped us realize that dating was an opportunity to get to know one another better and not an immediate commitment to a long-term relationship or marriage.

The result was that they were married in May in the Washington D.C. Temple.

The quality and tone of this favorite are much like the kind of man my friend Leo Politi is—soft, warm, tender, and full of reverence for life.
Every day Rosa and Jose rode their horse Polomo to the village school. After school, Rosa saw an expensive doll in the store window. She longed for this doll, but she knew she could never afford it. At Christmastime her mother gave the family something better than the doll. Because of Leo Politi’s touch, no one forgets Rosa or her dreams.
This book is also available in a Spanish edition.

The story is told of a farmer who needed an extra hand to help on his farm. Several interviewed for the position and the farmer asked each about his qualifications for the job. The response of one young man left the farmer both confused and intrigued. He had simply said, "I can sleep when the wind blows." The young man was hired and worked diligently through the harvest.

Autumn ended and the first cold storm of winter came late one night. The farmer panicked as the winds began to blow. Calling the young man for help, the farmer grabbed his coat and boots. He was disappointed to find the young man asleep at a time like this. Grudgingly he ventured out alone to move the animals to the barn and then fix a hole in the roof. He mumbled as he thought of the farm equipment left to rust in the field.

However, when the farmer reached the barn all the animals were tucked safely inside. In fact, clean hay had already been set out for the new day. Not a single hole could be found in the roof, and the tractor was parked perfectly in the shed. "Who could have done it?" the farmer wondered. And then, he realized what the young man's answer meant. "I can sleep when the wind blows."

“It was fifty years ago tomorrow that I arrived in this wonderful, free land.” She wiped away a tear and began to chuckle. “I was only twelve years old, and just as I got off the boat, all these splendid fireworks started exploding. I thought they were welcoming me. I didn’t know it was Canada Day. I also didn’t know what a great blessing Heavenly Father had given me by letting me come here, because here I found the gospel of Jesus Christ. My testimony of Jesus Christ and His gospel is my most precious possession.”
…
“We watched the fireworks, and I thought about your seeing them when you first came to Canada.”
“Yes, it was quite a sight for a twelve year old.”

Two years ago, my youngest brother, Chad, stepped through the veil. His transition to the other side left a hole in the heart of my sister-in-law Stephanie; their two small children, Braden and Bella; as well as the rest of the family. We found comfort in the words of Elder Neil L. Andersen in general conference the week before Chad died: “In the crucible of earthly trials, patiently move forward, and the Savior’s healing power will bring you light, understanding, peace, and hope” (“Wounded,” Ensign or Liahona, Nov. 2018, 85).
We have faith in Jesus Christ; we know we will join Chad again, but losing his physical presence hurts! Many have lost loved ones. It is hard to be patient and wait for the time we will rejoin them.
The year after he died, we felt like a dark cloud overshadowed us. We sought refuge in studying our scriptures, praying with more fervency, and attending the temple more frequently. The lines from this hymn capture our feelings at the time: “The day dawn is breaking, the world is awaking, the clouds of night’s darkness are fleeing away” (“The Day Dawn Is Breaking,” Hymns, no. 52).
Our family determined that 2020 would be a refreshing year! We were studying our Come, Follow Me lesson in the New Testament book of James in late November 2019 when a theme revealed itself to us. James, chapter 1, verse 2 reads, “My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into many afflictions” (Joseph Smith Translation, James 1:2 [in James 1:2, footnote a]). In our desire to open a new year, a new decade, with joy, we decided that in 2020 we would “count it all joy.” We felt so strongly about it that last Christmas we gifted our siblings T-shirts that said in bold letters, “Count It All Joy.” The year 2020 would surely be a year of joy and rejoicing.
Well, here we are—2020 instead brought the global COVID-19 pandemic, civil unrest, more natural disasters, and economic challenges. Our Heavenly Father may be allowing us time to reflect and consider our understanding of patience and our conscious decision to choose joy.
The book of James has since taken on new meaning for us. James, chapter 1, verses 3 and 4 continue:
“Knowing this, that the trying of your faith worketh patience.
“But let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing.”
In our efforts to find joy in the midst of our trials, we had forgotten that having patience is the key to letting those trials work for our good.
King Benjamin taught us to put off the natural man and become “a saint through the atonement of Christ the Lord, and [become] as a child, submissive, meek, humble, patient, full of love, willing to submit to all things” (Mosiah 3:19).
Chapter 6 of Preach My Gospel teaches key attributes of Christ that we can emulate: “Patience is the capacity to endure delay, trouble, opposition, or suffering without becoming angry, frustrated, or anxious. It is the ability to do God’s will and accept His timing. When you are patient, you hold up under pressure and are able to face adversity calmly and hopefully” (Preach My Gospel: A Guide to Missionary Service, rev. ed. [2019], 126).
Patience’s perfect work may also be illustrated in the life of one of Christ’s early disciples, Simon the Canaanite. The Zealots were a group of Jewish nationalists who strongly opposed Roman rule. The Zealot movement advocated violence against the Romans, their Jewish collaborators, and the Sadducees by raiding for provisions and pursuing other activities to aid their cause (see Encyclopedia Britannica, “Zealot,” britannica.com). Simon the Canaanite was a Zealot (see Luke 6:15). Imagine Simon trying to coax the Savior into taking up arms, leading a militant group, or creating chaos in Jerusalem. Jesus taught:
“Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth. …
“Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy. …
“Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God” (Matthew 5:5, 7, 9).
Simon may have embraced and advocated his philosophy with zeal and passion, but the scriptures suggest that through the influence and example of the Savior, his focus changed. His discipleship of Christ became the central focus of his life’s efforts.
As we make and keep covenants with God, the Savior can help us to “be born again; yea, born of God, changed from [a] carnal and fallen state, to a state of righteousness, being redeemed of God, becoming his sons and daughters” (Mosiah 27:25).
Of all the zealous social, religious, and political endeavors of our day, let disciple of Jesus Christ be our most pronounced and affirming affiliation. “For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also” (Matthew 6:21). Let us also not forget that even after faithful disciples had “done the will of God,” they “[had] need of patience” (Hebrews 10:36).
Just as the trying of our faith works patience within us, when we exercise patience, our faith increases. As our faith increases, so does our joy.
This past March, our second daughter, Emma, like many missionaries in the Church, went into mandatory isolation. Many missionaries came home. Many missionaries awaited reassignment. Many did not receive their temple blessings before departing to a field of labor. Thank you, elders and sisters. We love you.
Emma and her companion in the Netherlands were stretched in those first several weeks—stretched to tears in many instances. With only brief opportunities for in-person interaction and limited outdoor exposure, Emma’s reliance on God increased. We prayed with her online and asked how we could help. She asked us to connect with friends she was teaching online!
Our family began to connect online, one by one, with Emma’s friends in the Netherlands. We invited them to join our weekly, online, extended-family Come, Follow Me study. Floor, Laura, Renske, Freek, Benjamin, Stal, and Muhammad all have become our friends. Some of our friends from the Netherlands have entered “in at the strait gate” (3 Nephi 14:13). Others are being shown “the straitness of the path, and the narrowness of the gate, by which they should enter” (2 Nephi 31:9). They are our brothers and sisters in Christ. Each week we “count it all joy” as we work together in our progress on the covenant path.
We “let patience have her perfect work” (James 1:4) in our inability to meet in person as ward families for a season. But we count as joy our families’ faith increasing through new technology connections and Come, Follow Me study of the Book of Mormon.
President Russell M. Nelson promised, “Your consistent efforts in this endeavor—even during those moments when you feel that you are not being particularly successful—will change your life, that of your family, and the world” (“Go Forward in Faith,” Ensign or Liahona, May 2020, 114).
Where we make sacred covenants with God—the temple—is temporarily closed. Where we keep covenants with God—the home—is open! We have an opportunity at home to study and ponder on the exceptional beauty of temple covenants. Even in the absence of entry into that sacred physical space, our “hearts … shall greatly rejoice in consequence of the blessings which shall be poured out” (Doctrine and Covenants 110:9).
Many have lost jobs; others have lost opportunities. We joy, however, alongside President Nelson, who recently stated: “Voluntary fast offerings from our members have actually increased, as well as voluntary contributions to our humanitarian funds. … Together we will overcome this difficult time. The Lord will bless you as you continue to bless others” (Russell M. Nelson’s Facebook page, post from Aug. 16, 2020, facebook.com/russell.m.nelson).
“Be of good cheer” is the commandment from the Lord, not be of good fear (Matthew 14:27).
Sometimes we get impatient when we think we are “doing everything right” and we still do not receive the blessings we desire. Enoch walked with God for 365 years before he and his people were translated. Three hundred and sixty-five years of striving to do everything right, and then it happened! (See Doctrine and Covenants 107:49.)
My brother Chad’s passing came just a few months after our release from presiding over the Utah Ogden Mission. It was miraculous that while we were living in Southern California, of all the 417 missions we could have been assigned to in the year 2015, we were assigned to northern Utah. The mission home was a 30-minute drive to Chad’s home. Chad’s cancer was diagnosed after we received our mission assignment. Even in the most trying circumstance, we knew that our Heavenly Father was mindful of us and helping us find joy.
I witness of the redeeming, sanctifying, humbling, and joyous power of the Savior Jesus Christ. I witness that when we pray to our Heavenly Father in the name of Jesus, He will answer us. I witness that as we hear, hearken, and heed the voice of the Lord and His living prophet, President Russell M. Nelson, we can “let patience have her perfect work” and “count it all joy.” In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

He also remembers the time his dad was seriously sick. Raúl’s mother thought he was going to die. She rode a bus to the missionaries’ house to ask them to give him a blessing. They weren’t home, so she left them a message. When they arrived several hours later, Raúl’s father was so sick he could hardly talk. The missionaries gave him a blessing—and within half an hour, he was up and feeling much better.

Although she could barely see over the leafy branches she carried, Willa knew she was near the bees because of the low humming sound. She dropped the branches and pushed her sunbonnet back off her head.
“Come, Willa,” her grandfather called. “I want to show you something.”
Willa hesitated to join Grandfather, who was standing by several straw hives fastened onto a four-wheeled cart.
“Come, Willa, the bees are too busy to think of you today. There is much honey for them to gather.”
Willa walked carefully to where Grandfather stood and looked where he pointed. She could see a cluster of bees hanging on the outside of one of the hives.
“They are so crowded in there that they will soon swarm,” he explained. “Then when the queen flies out, many will follow her. After they are gone, a new queen will hatch to lay eggs for those who remain.”
“Where will they go?” asked Willa. She stifled the urge to swat at the bees humming past her face.
“Probably to a nearby tree. They’ll gather there and send out scouts to find a new home. I’ll make a new hive for them so we can catch them and bring them back to the cart.”
“How will you get them into the new hive?” asked Willa. She was edging away from the cart, hoping Grandfather would follow.
“If they gather on a small branch, we can cut it off and bring it down to the hive. Then we’ll turn the hive upside down and shake them in.”
Being anywhere near those thousands of swarming bees frightens me, thought Willa. She knew her grandfather wasn’t spry enough to climb trees, and by the way he kept saying “we” she knew she would be asked to help.
She looked to where the covered wagons were gathered.
“Maybe my friend Kurt will help you hive the swarm,” she said hopefully.
“The bees will fill themselves full of honey before they fly off, and it’s hard for a full bee to bend her tail to sting,” Grandfather encouraged, patting Willa on the shoulder.
He gathered up the branches and began to place them on the hickory pole framework built over the cart. The branches would provide shade for the hives.
“It’s still a long way to the Salt Lake Valley,” he said. “I was told that no bees had been seen there. We must take our own to pollinate our fruit trees.
“I want you to learn to help with the bees, Willa. I won’t always be able to do the work,” Grandfather said, putting his arm around her waist as they walked to their wagon. “I’d like you to gather lots of long dry grass to make the new hive. I’ll go down to the river to find something to use for the binding.”
That afternoon Willa sat with Grandfather in the shade of the wagon to watch him make the hive. Kurt came from his wagon to watch too.
“This kind of hive is called a skep,” explained Grandfather. “My father taught me how to make them. He gave me this bone needle that I use to pull the binding through the straw. When he came from Holland on a sailing ship, he brought his bees with him.”
“Like the Jaredites!” said Kurt.
“Yes, like the Jaredites,” agreed Grandfather.
“They carried their bees in barges across the ocean to the promised land,” said Kurt. “I read about it in the book of Ether.”
“‘And they did also carry with them deseret,’” quoted Grandfather, “‘which, by interpretation, is a honey bee; and thus they did carry with them swarms of bees. …’” (Ether 2:3.)
Willa sat on the seat of the wagon the next morning while Mother combed her long, honey-colored hair. “Mother, I’m afraid of the bees,” she confessed. “I’ll never forget how it hurt that time when I was stung.”
“Your grandfather knows a great deal about bees,” encouraged Mother. “If you do as he says, they probably won’t sting you.”
“But I’ll still be afraid,” murmured Willa.
“Sometimes it’s good to be afraid,” said Mother. “Only the foolish are never afraid. The brave are those who keep trying even when they are afraid.”
Willa sat in silence as her mother wrapped her braided hair in a golden crown around her head.
Suddenly Mother said, “Listen! The bees are swarming.”
Willa jumped down from the wagon and saw a cloud of bees gathering about the cart. “Call Grandfather,” she cried. “I’ll follow them.”
The bees flew to a large tree by the river with Willa in hot pursuit. She watched as they collected into a mass of crawling bodies on a branch above her head. When she caught her breath, she began to call out so Grandfather could find her.
He arrived carrying the new hive and a wooden plank. Inside the hive were a pair of gloves and a wide-brimmed hat covered with cotton netting.
“You’re a plucky girl, Willa,” said Grandfather as he squinted up at the swarm. “Do you think you can climb that high?”
Willa looked at the tree. She knew she could, but the sight of those thousands of bees gave her a cold feeling in her stomach.
“I’ll go get Kurt,” she called as she ran back to the wagons. However, a few minutes later she returned wearing a pair of britches. “Kurt is sick,” she explained, still breathless from running. “He can’t come, so I borrowed these pants from him. I’ll climb the tree.”
Grandfather helped her put on the hat. He made sure the netting fit closely about her shoulders and neck. Willa put on the gloves and took the knife Grandfather pulled from his pocket.
“Remember, child,” cautioned Grandfather, “the bees are happy, and they’re full of honey. But you must be careful not to shake them loose from the branch or they’ll fly away again.”
Willa was able to sit on a branch and reach the limb where the bees hung like a living Christmas stocking.
As she cut the branch, bees walked over her gloves and down the long sleeves of her blouse. They hummed about her head and settled on the netting hung from her hat.
She had the branch free and was climbing down when she felt a bee crawling into her glove. A hot, stabbing pain shot through her hand. She lost her grip on the branch and it fell with the swarm. But Grandfather caught it handily in the upturned hive. Then he turned the hive over with the bees inside and set it on the plank.
“We’ll leave them there,” said Grandfather as he helped remove the bees from Willa’s clothes. “By evening they will all go inside and we can carry them back to the cart.”
Later that night as she helped Grandfather carry the hive back, Willa thought, What Mother said about being brave is true. It helped a lot. Aloud she mused, “Grandfather, do you remember that line from Shakespeare that says: ‘Cowards die many times before their deaths; The valiant never taste of death but once.’ I think I died at least a thousand times in that tree this afternoon.”
“But you were brave, Willa, and for your effort I want to give you this hive of bees.”
After the hive was fastened to the cart, Willa said excitedly, “Grandfather! Why don’t we call this new colony Deseret, after the Jaredites’ bees?”
“That’s it, Willa!” Grandfather said, taking off his hat and rubbing his head. “I think it’s a perfect name. Honeybees are a true symbol of industry and harmony,” he added, “and the name will just suit them.”
Willa watched while Grandfather put screen on the hive entrances and hitched the cart to their wagon so they’d be ready to leave early in the morning. When he was done, he gazed at the hives a moment before turning to go. “Deseret,” she heard him murmur contentedly as he walked away.
Willa touched the sting on her hand. It felt better already.

Alma taught that, for the righteous, the spirit world will be a paradise—“a state of rest, a state of peace, where they shall rest from all their troubles and from all care, and sorrow” (Alma 40:12). I have often wondered how we can be in a place of rest and yet be busy and deeply involved in intense activity. It reminds me of an account that one of my colleagues shared with me. His aged mother-in-law, who had been widowed for decades, saw into the spirit world shortly before her passing. She told the family that she had seen departed family members, including her beloved husband.
“Well, doesn’t that make you want to go join them?” a daughter asked her.
She responded, “Oh, no. They were so busy. It made me tired watching them.”

And I have seen it in young fathers trying to provide for their families. In that regard I once terrifyingly saw it in myself. At one point in our married life when financial fears collided with staggering fatigue, I took a psychic blow that was as unanticipated as it was real. With the grace of God and the love of my family, I kept functioning and kept working, but even after all these years I continue to feel a deep sympathy for others more chronically or more deeply afflicted with such gloom than I was. In any case we have all taken courage from those who, in the words of the Prophet Joseph, “search[ed] … and contemplate[d] the darkest abyss” and persevered through it—not the least of whom were Abraham Lincoln, Winston Churchill, and Elder George Albert Smith, the latter being one of the most gentle and Christlike men of our dispensation, who battled recurring depression for some years before later becoming the universally beloved eighth prophet and President of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

President Taim was aware of the physical and emotional challenges black members faced. He considered starting a branch in Soweto to make travel easier for them but did not want to make them feel as if they were unwelcome in Johannesburg. He decided to interview Soweto members like Frans to gauge their feelings before taking any action. They gave him a clear answer: “We would love to establish the Church in Soweto.”
President Taim identified experienced leaders who could help mentor recent converts. He interviewed over 200 members in Johannesburg and ultimately called 40 to join the new branch long enough to help train a pioneering group of local leaders there.

I first began to understand the significance of the Atonement when my grandfather was dying. After attending law school, I was studying for the California bar exam when my mother called and said if I wanted to see my grandfather before he died, I better come to Utah. My grandfather, who was 86 years old, was very ill. He was so pleased to see me and share his testimony.

He had three concerns:
1. He loved his 10 children very much. They were all good people. He wanted them all to be temple worthy.
2. His father was one of the young men who had carried members of the Martin handcart company across the Sweetwater River. His father had died when my grandfather was three years old, and he looked forward to seeing him and hoped his father and other family members would approve of his life.
3. Finally, and most importantly, he told me how he looked forward to meeting the Savior. He referred to the Savior as the “Keeper of the Gate,” a reference to 2 Nephi 9:41. He told me that he hoped he had been sufficiently repentant to qualify for the Savior’s mercy.

All of us have sinned, and it is only through the Atonement that we can obtain mercy and live with God. I can remember to this day the great love that Grandfather had for the Savior and the appreciation he had for the Atonement.

Recently, my 16-year-old niece Megan and two of her friends came for a sleepover. As we talked that evening, one of them asked me what it had been like growing up on a farm in the olden days. … I told Megan and her friends that in the “olden days,” I had been painfully shy and had absolutely no self-confidence.
“How did you get over feeling that way?” Megan asked. A pat answer was on the tip of my tongue when I stopped, sensing that these terrific young women were receptive to more. So I told them that the reason was a spiritual one: It wasn’t until I began to understand how the Lord felt about me that my feelings about myself and my life slowly began to change. Their questions then came in a hurry: How did I know how the Lord felt? And how could they find out how He felt about them?
For several hours, scriptures in hand, we talked about how to hear the voice of the Spirit, about how eager the Lord is to unveil the knowledge stored safely inside our spirits concerning who we are and what our mission is, and about the life-changing difference it makes when we know.
… There is nothing more vital to our success and our happiness here than learning to hear the voice of the Spirit. It is the Spirit who reveals to us our identity—which isn’t just who we are but who we have always been. And that when we know, our lives take on a sense of purpose so stunning that we can never be the same again.
… Our spirits long for us to remember the truth about who we are, because the way we see ourselves, our sense of identity, affects everything we do. … It affects the very way we live our lives. So, today, I invite you to ponder in a new way not just who you are but who you have always been.
… Can you imagine that God, who knew us perfectly, reserved us to come now, when the stakes would be higher and the opposition more intense than ever? When He would need women who would help raise and lead a chosen generation in the most lethal spiritual environment? Can you imagine that He chose us because He knew we would be fearless in building Zion?
… Noble and great. Courageous and determined. Faithful and fearless. That is who you are, and that is who you have always been. Understanding that truth can change your life, because this knowledge carries a confidence that cannot be duplicated any other way.
… When you understand that you were chosen and reserved for now, and when you live in harmony with that mission, you’ll be happier than you have ever been before.
… God is our Father, and His Only Begotten Son is the Christ. May we rejoice in once again standing tall for the Savior and serving with valor and vigor in His vineyard. And may we be fearless in building up the Zion of our God—because we know who we are and who we have always been.

In March 1844, the Prophet Joseph Smith told the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles and the Nauvoo Temple committee, “We need the temple more than anything else.” [2]
In those early days of the church, under extreme hardship, personal risk, and great sacrifice, the Prophet urged the Saints to build temples wherein the Lord will “manifest [Himself] . . . in mercy [to His people] in [His] house.” [3]
The attic to the Nauvoo temple was completed just under two years later, wherein the Saints received the temple endowment. Within six weeks, the Saints were forced to flee from their beautiful city Nauvoo.
From the book Saints, we read the following about their expulsion. The morning they were set to leave,
A crowd of Saints met [Brigham Young] outside the temple, eager for their endowment. Brigham told them it was unwise to delay their departure. If they stayed to do more endowments, their way out of the city could be impeded or cut off. He promised they would build more temples and have more opportunities to receive their blessings out west.
Then Brigham walked away, expecting the Saints to disperse, but instead they climbed the steps to the temple and filled its halls. Turning around, Brigham followed them inside. He saw their anxious faces, and he changed his mind. They knew they needed the endowment of power to endure the hardships ahead, overcome the sting of death, and return to the presence of God. [4]
The Saints refused to leave Nauvoo without first making temple covenants and receiving an endowment of power, even at great personal risk. I love this story as it captures so beautifully the importance of temples to those early Saints.

Jill stood up, gathering her things together. One memory flashed swiftly across her mind. It was the hot summer of her tenth year. She had been bike racing with Martin up the hill to her house. Everything was going fine until her front tire hit a patch of gravel that caused her to skid out of control. Martin brought his bike to a screeching halt and helped Jill untangle herself from her bicycle. Jill remembered she had bumped her nose and skinned both her knees. Martin helped her limp home and then left. As her mother carefully applied Band-Aids to the torn knees, Jill told her that Martin was glad she fell because she had been winning. Her mother tried to explain that she was sure that that wasn’t true, but Jill insisted, pointing out that he had even left her alone. About a half an hour later, Martin showed up at their doorstep. He had brought Jill’s bicycle back and put it in the garage. He asked if Jill could come outside for a minute. Jill remembered walking out with a cool expression of complete disdain. She was completely surprised when Martin presented her with a “victory scoop” of strawberry ice cream. She had been winning, he had explained, so he bought her an ice cream cone with his allowance.

When our children were young, I took them to a pet store to redeem a coupon for a free goldfish. Two hours later we emerged with a puppy, purchased with the children’s own money. That night we put the puppy in the laundry room to sleep. In the morning the room was a mess. The children were expected to clean up, but they felt it was too much. “We can’t!” they sobbed.
That night we held a family home evening on the subject of consequences. “When you bought the dog,” their father said, “you didn’t think about the consequences. Now the dog is part of our family, and you must take responsibility for her.” We discussed how consequences always follow any choice we make, and we encouraged them to always make righteous choices.
The dog recently died after 14 years as part of our family, but the life lessons she helped teach us will always remain.
Jill Grant, Victoria, Australia

While attending church as a missionary in the Hilongos Leyte Branch in the Philippines, I was surprised to discover that the speaker that day was a recently returned missionary. My companion and I were surprised because at that time we didn’t know of any family that had a missionary out. After the service, we quickly made arrangements to visit her later that day. When we arrived at her house, her family made a big show of marching out of the house and refused to talk to us. After they left, I looked at the returned missionary, who hours earlier had delivered a powerful testimony of Christ and who also suffered from a deformed leg that forced her to live on crutches and simply asked, “How do you handle all of this?” She smiled and opened her well-worn copy of the Book of Mormon to Jacob 6:5 and read, “Wherefore, my beloved brethren, I beseech of you in words of soberness that ye would repent, and come with full purpose of heart, and cleave unto God as he cleaveth unto you. And while his arm of mercy is extended towards you in the light of the day, harden not your hearts.” In this context, “cleave” means to “stick to” or “hold fast.” She explained that knowing God was cleaving unto her gave her strength to make it through her challenges. Her example and love of God has stayed with me ever since.

Twenty-four years ago, our tiny newborn son struggled for his life in the intensive care unit of a hospital. His lungs were not fully developed because of his premature birth, and he desperately fought for each breath of air. He was so small but with so much will to live. As young and inexperienced parents, my courageous and ever faithful wife, Jan, and I prayed that the Lord’s hand would reach out and somehow help our baby boy continue to breathe. As I put my trembling hand through the small opening into the isolette, I felt so inadequate and powerless. I took hold of the tiny but perfect hand of our newborn son, and there was a powerful spiritual connection never to be forgotten. Two fingers from each of my hands covered his tiny head as I administered to him.

Our desire for him was pure, but we knew that his earthly experience rested in the Lord’s hands and not in ours or in the medical team who cared for him. I then humbly realized that my quivering hands held power and authority well beyond my own. My fingers on his head symbolized the placing of God’s hands and power upon our son. Following that blessing, in a moment of emotional peace, my eternal companion and I looked at each other across the isolette, feeling the spirit of renewed hope and comfort born of faith in the Lord Jesus Christ and in the personal effect of His Atonement. It was a powerful witness of His love for an infant son who had just left His presence. We were then better prepared to accept His will for our son. We truly felt we had placed our hands in the hands of the Savior. It was as if the Savior’s own hands provided the critical respiratory aid, allowing our son to breathe and gain sustenance. With each breath and with each incremental bit of progress, we expressed prayerful thanks. Today, our healthy son and his indebted parents continue to be so grateful for the Savior’s willing hands.