Gospel Story Finder

The future of none of the prophets, however, was signaled more clearly than that of Heber J. Grant. While he was a small boy, he often attended Relief Society with his mother. On one such occasion, after the regular meeting had concluded, Eliza R. Snow, the sister of President Lorenzo Snow, gave blessings to all present by the gift of tongues, with Zina D. Young interpreting. In tongues Sister Snow also prophesied that Heber J. Grant would someday be an apostle of the Lord. On another occasion President Heber C. Kimball, a close friend of President Grant’s father, took the young boy up, sat him on a chair, and talked with him. According to the story later told President Grant by his mother:
“He prophesied in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ that you [Heber] should become an apostle of the Lord Jesus Christ and become a greater man in the Church than your own father; and your father, as you know, became one of the counselors to Brigham Young.”
However, none of these prophecies were quite so impressive to President Grant as the vision that he had shortly after being called to the apostleship in 1883. In this vision he saw his father, Jedediah Grant, the Prophet Joseph Smith, and the Savior, and he also saw the decision made to send the revelation for his call to the Council of the Twelve—this when he was twenty-six years of age.

Several years ago, an atheist parent of a child in our school district was demanding that the words “under God” be removed from the students’ daily recitation of the Pledge of Allegiance. He was also demanding a “God-free” classroom for his daughter where there would be no mention of God or any religion. I went to the school board meeting where the issue would be discussed.
One of the speakers was a 12-year-old Latter-day Saint young man. He told the school board members his name and said, “Please don’t do this. I have one friend who is Jewish, one who is Muslim, one who is Catholic, one who is Buddhist, and me—I’m a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Some of us stand for the pledge, and some don’t. Some say, ‘under God,’ and some don’t. It’s OK. We’re all different. We all get along. Please vote this down.”
The entire room erupted into a standing ovation, and the school board voted it down—quoting a courageous 12-year-old young man.
He spoke truth. And everyone heard it clearly. In a vote that could have failed, one 12-year-old young man made the difference.

I once attended a funeral for a young missionary who was killed in an accident. The missionary’s father spoke in the service and described the heartache of an unexpected mortal separation from a beloved child. He forthrightly declared that he personally did not understand the reasons or timing for such an event. But I always will remember this good man also declaring that he knew God knew the reasons and timing for the passing of his child—and that was good enough for him. He told the congregation that he and his family, though sorrowful, would be fine; their testimonies remained firm and steadfast. He concluded his remarks with this declaration: “I want you to know that as far as the gospel of Jesus Christ is concerned, our family is all in. We are all in.”
Though the loss of a dear loved one was heart-wrenching and difficult, the members of this valiant family spiritually were prepared to prove that they could learn lessons of eternal importance through the things that they suffered.

I had gone to a certain house several times and had been rejected and warned not to come back again, but I was prompted to go again and again. And then as I was attempting to walk past that house, I was prompted to go in and try again to make contact. I used the big brass knocker on the English door without any response. I could see a lady in the front room knitting, and I made considerable noise with that knocker. She did not come out, and I went around to the back door. There was no knocker on that door so I used my walking stick, and I knocked with considerable vigor; in fact, it echoed through all the house.

Very soon the lady came out, and her coming out reminded me of my early days on the farm when I teased a sitting hen off the nest. (I see some of you have had farm experience.) You know that a setting hen when she is teased off the nest comes off with her feathers going in the wrong direction, with her beak in perpetual motion, and this woman reminded me of that.

I apologized and said, “I am sorry to have interrupted you and have insisted upon an interview, but, my dear sister, I have come over six thousand miles to bring you a message which the Lord wants you to have. He sent me here to give you that message. I am going back to Canada in a few days, and I must tell you what the Lord wants you to know.”

She said, “You mean the Lord sent a message to me!”

I said, “That is right, he did.”

I told her of the restoration of the gospel, the organization of the Church, and the message of the restoration. She was quite impressed by what I told her. And I said when I left, “I am sorry to have disturbed you, but I could not refuse to carry out the message and the mission that was given to me when I came here. When we meet again, and we will meet again, you are going to say, ‘Thank you for coming to my back door. Thank you for loving me enough to carry the message of the Lord to me. When you left I could hardly contain myself. I was worried, disturbed, and wondered what it was all about. I finally went to the mission home, got some literature, studied, and became a member of the Church with my family.’”

Ten years later I was in England again, this time as a soldier, and at the end of the meeting a lady came up with two grown daughters. She said, “I do thank God and thank you that you came to my door with that message many years ago. I and my daughters joined the Church and we are going to Utah in a short time, and we thank God that you had the courage, the fortitude, and the faith to come to me with that divine message and to leave it with me in the name of the Lord.”Elder Hugh B. BrownOf the Council of the Twelve

A YSA council was created. Brother and Sister Dwamena-Frimpong and Brother William and Sister Karen Aryee were called to serve as YSA supporting couples and gathering place specialists, respectively. “When this calling was extended to us, we had no idea of what to do and how to get things done,” said Sister Aryee. “As it is our human nature to come up with plans, thoughts, and goals for the future, we needed to realize God is the only one who truly knows what’s best for us. That was how we sought direction from the Lord for us to come up with activities that will unite, educate, and bring souls unto Christ. The Lord, indeed, answers prayers as we received guidance steadily on what to do and how to get all our YSA’s involved.”
The Aryees met with the stake presidency and began to petition the Lord to lead them and give them direction. President Ghunney, second counselor in the stake presidency, said, “Under the direction of the stake president, we met to discuss and plan on how to implement the gathering place. Through these council meetings, I have seen the heavens open, and revelations poured out to our understanding, and the more we met in council, the more the Lord made clear to us what we needed to do.”
The newly called leaders knew that within their stake there would be experts in various fields that could teach the needed classes. Visits were made to wards and branches seeking teachers for bead making classes, fashion, IT proficiency, eCommerce and web design, wood engineering, computer animation, web design, cosmetology, driving, detergents making and culinary arts. President Allotey said, “When I called each teacher, I told them to be prepared to make some sacrifices to help the YSA in our stake.” In West Africa, transportation costs and the premium placed on long work hours are high.
A gathering place devotional was held. Members of the Church, neighbors and friends were invited to register for skills training and BYU-Pathway classes.
There was a lot to learn. At times, leaders were not feeling the success and seeing the number of YSA for which they had hoped and prayed. They prayed continually. They felt certain that sacrifice was the key to success. When there were not enough computers for the web design class, students shared computers. When internet was not available, instructors spent time during the week creating tutorial videos that students could watch when internet was available.
Sister Mercy Dady, beads instructor, declared, “When our class started, getting beads was not easy for YSAs due to financial challenges.” Sister Dady purchased all the beads required for the first two weeks and provided the class with all essential tools and materials. This initial sacrifice gave the class a successful start. Some of the YSA were able to contribute small amounts of money to purchase the beads required for subsequent classes.
Sister Atistosgbui shared her thoughts on being an instructor. “Volunteering as an instructor over the past few weeks has been challenging, yet an eye-opening, learning opportunity for my students and me. My desire to see the YSA succeed motivated me to sacrifice my resources to transporting mannequins, pressing iron, and sewing machines among other things from my workshop to the gathering place and back twice every week. Although the cost of transporting the equipment to class was high, I knew the Lord always blesses the cheerful giver”, she said.
Brother Collins Sarkodie Aning said, “I thank my Heavenly Father for the opportunity to volunteer as the e-commerce and web design instructor. Personally, I will say that what has kept my class going since the gathering place launch is the love that I have for the YSA and my quest to help them acquire a skill to support themselves and their families.” Twice each week Brother Sarkodie dedicated an entire day to his classes and transported himself from his home or workplace to meet and teach the YSA.
At the completion of twelve weeks of classes and at the end of a BYU-Pathway semester, a graduation ceremony was held at the stake center. Students displayed projects and shared newly acquired skills and talents. Traditional dancing, music, and the awarding of certificates to 106 students ended the semester on a high note.
President Allotey testified, “The gathering place has transformed every participant’s life. Nonmembers also have been blessed, several being willing to meet with full-time missionaries to be taught the gospel of Jesus Christ.
“The happenings in the YSA gathering place are amazing! It has been many years since we last saw YSA trooping into our stake center and gathering together almost every day of the week. As I keep meeting and interacting with returning inactive YSA and even nonmember YSA who have come from the neighborhood to the gathering place, my heart swells with joy as I see the real fulfillment of the prophecy of the gathering of Israel on this side of the veil and the eventual salvation of the rising generation. I know that the YSA gathering place principle is revealed by God through our prophet to save this rising generation.”

Look at fasting as a blessing, not a forced and dreaded chore. I used to focus on my hunger pains on fast Sunday until my mom told me to fast with a purpose. She said every time you have a hunger pain, think of what you’re fasting for and say a silent prayer. I tried that the next fast Sunday, and it really helped! I didn’t feel hungry, and I saw the effects of my fast when I received the help I had fasted for. I gained a testimony of fasting that day, and ever since, fast Sunday has always been a blessing to me.
Janae S., 15, California, USA

Little by little the Lord was showing that he had prepared the way for me. However, I felt that I would need his help a lot more when I talked to my father. My father is a good man, but his hard life had made him tough and materialistic. Such an outlook would prevent him from accepting my decision.
On a Sunday afternoon, when we were alone in our backyard, I decided to tell my father. He listened until I finished and then asked very dryly, “Is this your will?” I nodded. “Very well, now listen! When you took this course you destroyed the love that existed within me for you. I am not going to drive you out of the house but from my heart. Those medical school stickers that I proudly exhibit on the windshield of my car will be removed, and you will have to do much to put them back on. You tore down a great dream of my life, and as far as I am concerned you fell down with it.”
I tried to answer him and express my great love for him, but my words stopped in my throat. I wished that the whole world would fall upon me for bringing such great suffering to my father, whom I loved so much.
Time went by. My father went to stake leaders to try to stop me. In a last and desperate attempt he went to the stake president. When he returned home that night, he had only harsh words for me.
While I prayed to the Lord to give my father understanding, the Spirit dictated to me that I should listen to him without saying a word. The night before he was to talk to the stake president again, he was sitting alone in the backyard. He said the moonlight made the night clear. He took the opportunity to pray to the Lord in the way he knows and said, “Father, I know that you have given me everything, but do you need to collect all at once? You know I cannot bear it.” In that very moment the backyard became filled with shadows that started to move towards him. My father became stricken with fear and ran to his room like a frightened child. He spent the whole night talking to my strong and sweet mother. That long talk with my mother and his interview with the stake president, when both cried, were enough to change his thinking.
And then came the night that I will never forget. I was in the kitchen peeling a pineapple for our dessert when my father came home. He stopped behind me, placed his briefcase on the floor, and said, “May I talk to you?”
I was already getting used to his aggressive talking. I answered yes and continued to peel the pineapple. “Listen, young man, when I talk to someone I like him to look into my eyes.” I stopped, turned to him, and heard him say with a calm and tender voice, “My son, go and do what you have decided to do because the Lord has told me that it is right. You can count on me for help because I love you very much.” We embraced each other, and the Lord bound the heart of the father to the son and of the son to the father. Tears of joy rolled down our cheeks.

Let us cite only a few of the numerous cases that have come to my personal attention recently. A few months ago a mother of five children came to my office. She wept bitterly as she told me that her husband had spent most of his time during the past year with another man’s wife. She explained that on a number of occasions she followed him in her car to the other woman’s place. Naturally, the sinful husband was miserable, the wife was very sorrowful, and the children were brokenhearted. “… wickedness never was happiness.” (Alma 41:10.)

Waimate and Heeni Anaru yearned to be part of the first group to travel to the temple. Yet the task seemed impossible because of the family’s poverty and the required cost of 1,200 New Zealand pounds for the trip—a hefty sum. They would need a miracle.
For years, the Anaru family followed the prophet’s counsel and gathered their genealogical records. Those records then sat in stacks while the Anarus waited for a miracle to occur. Their son, Wiwini, knew of his parents’ faith: “Mother never ever despaired that she would [not] someday kneel with Father at a temple altar.”
A miracle did occur. Waimate won a contract from the New Zealand government for a large land-development project. His income from this project provided sufficient cash paid in advance to cover the cost of the trip to Hawaii. Waimate and Heeni overcame their fear of ocean travel and journeyed to Hawaii with a group of 14 Saints in May 1920. They received their endowments and were sealed. The impossible had happened.

We went to church in Port Harcourt from Omoku, our hometown. It was about two-hour drive. We did this every Sunday until sometime in 2001 when the Port Harcourt West Stake Presidency authorized me and family to stay back and worship in Omoku under the supervision of the Rumueme Ward. We reactivated some members of the Church who resided in our town and surrounding towns, two of whom were old schoolmates at the university. We started worshipping in my one-room apartment and later moved into a three-rooms flat in the city center where, on the 9th of January 2005, the Church was officially organized with me as the first branch president and my wife as first counsellor in the Relief Society. We had 36 members of our branch.

Three weeks ago, I stepped into Yesterday. In that moment, I rediscovered Today. And it is about Today that I wish to speak.
A Church assignment had carried me across the vast reaches of the Pacific to the land of Vietnam. For me, this was more than a flight over an ocean. It was a step back in time. More than 40 years ago, I had served on the battlefields of that land as an infantry officer. Etched in my mind over those intervening decades were memories of that place, its people, and my comrades in arms with whom I had served. Jacob once wrote, “Our lives passed away like … unto us a dream” (Jacob 7:26). So it had been for me. And now I was returning from my hall of memories to that place of memory after a near half-century. My Church business concluded, I determined to once again visit those fields of desperate struggle. Accompanied by my dear wife, I made the pilgrimage.
I am not quite sure what I expected to find after so many years. What I did find was most unexpected. Instead of a war-ravaged people, I found a youthful, vibrant population. Instead of a countryside pockmarked by shell fire, I found peaceful, verdant fields. Even the jungle growth was new. I guess that I had half expected to find Yesterday, but what I found was Today and the promise of a bright Tomorrow. I was reminded that “weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning” (Psalm 30:5).

Julie bit her lip as she walked home with her new friends. She didn’t know what to tell them about the Church.
“My dad says you Mormons are different from the rest of us and that you aren’t Christians,” Tiffany told her. “He said that you believe in Joseph Smith and the Book of Mormon but not the Bible.”
“That’s what I’ve heard, too,” Meghan added. She pointed to the blue book Julie had tucked under her arm. “I don’t see you carrying the Bible to school, just your Book of Mormon.”
Julie wanted to avoid an argument, but she had to stand up for what she knew was right. “Members of the Church are Christians. And I brought my Book of Mormon to school to show Miss Hall. She asked to see it after I did my history report on Joseph Smith last week.”
“See?” Tiffany smirked. “You do believe in Joseph Smith.”
“That’s right. I believe that Joseph Smith was a prophet of God. I also believe in Jesus Christ as the Savior.”
“Then why aren’t you called Christians like other people?” Meghan asked. “Why do people call you Mormons?”
Julie choked back the angry words that hovered on her tongue. “I have to get home. I promised Mom I’d watch Benny while she goes to the store.”
As Julie hurried ahead, she heard whispers floating behind her. She swiped at the tears that trailed down her cheeks and wished for the hundredth time that her family hadn’t had to move here for her father’s job. It had been hard to leave her friends in California. Tiffany and Meghan were the first friends she’d made here, and now it looked as if she might lose them.
Julie wiped away the tears as she opened the kitchen door, hoping her mother wouldn’t notice she’d been crying. But her mother took one look at her and sat down at the kitchen table, gesturing for Julie to join her. Soon the whole story was spilling out.
“Maybe Tiffany and Meghan simply don’t understand,” her mother suggested.
“But why did they say that we aren’t Christians?”
“A lot of people think that. They don’t understand that just because we believe in the Book of Mormon, it isn’t Mormon’s Church. It’s Jesus Christ’s Church.”
Julie thought about it that afternoon as she did her homework. She tried to concentrate on it, but she couldn’t forget the things her friends had said. If only she could help them understand!
“Julie, what’s this?” Benny asked.
She looked up and saw the small card he held up to her. “It’s an Articles of Faith card.”
“What are Art-Arti-Articles of Faith?”
“They explain what Church members believe in.” She jumped up, crossed the room, and kissed her little brother. “Thanks, Benny—you’ve just given me the answer to my problem!”
The following day, she passed Tiffany and Meghan on the way to art class. She smiled at both of them. “See you after class,” she said.
When the bell rang, Julie found Tiffany and Meghan waiting for her in the hallway.
“Let’s walk home together,” Julie suggested.
Tiffany and Meghan exchanged looks. “OK.”
Julie waited until they were outside before beginning. “Yesterday you said Mormons are different. You were right. We are different.” She took a deep breath and began reciting the first article of faith: “‘We believe in God, the Eternal Father, and in His Son, Jesus Christ, and in the Holy Ghost.’”
“You believe they are three different persons?” Meghan asked.
“That’s right.”
Tiffany frowned. “But aren’t they all the same?”
Julie paused, praying that she could find the right words. “They are one in purpose, and They work together, but They’re three distinct persons.”
“What about Mormon?” Tiffany asked. “The man your church is named after. Who’s he?”
“The real name of the Church is The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, but sometimes we’re called Mormons because we believe that the Book of Mormon is scripture, just like the Bible. In fact, we say that it is ‘Another Testament of Jesus Christ.’ You see, Mormon lived a long time ago on the American continent, and he kept a record of his people and how they lived the gospel of Jesus Christ. His son, Moroni, appeared as an angel—”
“An angel?” Meghan interrupted. “Like a Christmas angel? In a long white robe and halo?”
Julie smiled and shook her head. “Moroni appeared to Joseph Smith and told him where the golden plates that Mormon’s history was written on were buried. Eventually Joseph Smith translated the golden plates and called it the Book of Mormon.”
“Hey, this is exciting,” Meghan said.
“Do you have any more of those things that you believe in?” Tiffany asked.
“They’re called the Articles of Faith. There are thirteen in all.” Julie reached inside her pocket, pulled out two small cards, and gave them to her friends. “Here.” She watched as Tiffany and Meghan looked over the cards.
“Do you know all these by heart?” Tiffany asked.
“Uh-huh. I memorized them in Primary.”
“What’s Primary?”
“It’s a little like your Sunday School. We have class on Sundays and sometimes an activity during the week.”
“Maybe I can come with you sometime,” Tiffany said.
“Me, too,” Meghan chimed in.
Julie smiled at them. “I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”

I decided to try the scripture-anecdote-testimony combination in my next speaking assignment to see if it might improve my effectiveness. I spoke about the temple and the joyous experience my family and I shared when we were sealed together. Next I explained the importance of temples and quoted a scripture to emphasize my point. Finally, I bore my testimony of temples and the eternal blessings they provide.
The congregation didn’t stand and applaud my talk at the end of the meeting, but they didn’t fall asleep either. As a matter of fact, several people complimented me on my talk—something that was usually done only by my wife and the bishop. I felt good about the talk I had given.

When I was baptized, I was already too old for Primary. Even so, I attended it for two years. I did hold the priesthood, but the branch was small and the Primary teachers were so good that I went there. I loved it and was grateful that the teachers didn’t tell me that I couldn’t attend because I was too old. I remember three outstanding teachers. Olga Ramos, Lida del Bosque, and Irma Torres were their names. All three cared a great deal about us children. They diligently taught us and had activities for us. They were young adults then. Now they are married women with grandchildren. I am very grateful to them because it was through their teaching that I learned the gospel.

“You are never alone when you have faith in Jesus Christ and Heavenly Father.” I have heard phrases like this many times, but I never before understood them to the depth that I do today.
Every person eventually faces the inevitable fact that one day he or she may be alone. For me, due to a divorce, children moving out, and early retirement, this day came sooner than I had anticipated. The most excruciating obstacle I had to overcome was living with this sudden quiet and emptiness after spending years of precious time with family and friends, spouse and children, and fellow employees.
While I enjoyed the visits with my home and visiting teachers and other friends, most of the time I felt completely alone, and I didn’t like it. The constant stillness eventually evoked an uncontrollable stream of tears. I had nowhere to turn for comfort except on my knees in prayer.
After I cried to Heavenly Father for what seemed to be hours, a transition started to take place inside of me, and I felt Heavenly Father’s Spirit. For a moment my tears subsided as I absorbed His love piercing my soul. I knew He understood my sadness, and that allowed me to feel comfortable enough to cry even longer, just as a child who has fallen cries when seeing his or her mother. As I buried my head in what I imagined to be Heavenly Father’s lap, I knew He was willing to comfort me for as long as I needed. Occasionally, I had some fleeting thoughts of being too old to be acting this way. However, I knew that it didn’t matter to Heavenly Father how old or young I was. I just knew that He understood me and would always be there for me.
Today, although I would still prefer to be married, I have come to enjoy the quiet. I listen to the ocean waves and watch the sunset. I literally stop and smell the roses. I listen and act according to the guidance of the Spirit. I am not afraid to be alone because I am not alone as long as I believe in Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. I see the Spirit of Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ in most everything I do.
“Through faith in Jesus Christ and Heavenly Father, you are not alone.” Those words have a new and profound meaning deep in my heart today, and I know without a doubt that I am never alone. I am His daughter, and He loves me.

I didn’t always pay attention. After hearing the sacrament prayers every week since childhood, I had started to tune them out. If there was something I found more interesting to think about, I’d let my mind wander.
But then one Sunday as I bowed my head to take the sacrament, I noticed my hands. They had many scrapes from various sources. One was caused by a bicycle crash on a night my parents had told me not to go out, and another scratch was from falling down stairs because I was careless. My hands had several marks caused by things I had done.
Some marks had been there longer than others, but I knew that most of them could be healed with time.
As I gently touched the scrapes on my hands, I thought of the wounds on someone else’s hands and how those scars are so vital for us. Jesus Christ went through intense suffering for our spiritual well-being.
I realized that just as my body had physical scars it was trying to heal, my spirit was also pocked and scarred by careless things I had done. Heavenly Father knew we would hurt ourselves spiritually on earth, so he sent his Son to help us heal our wounds.
I started to listen to these sacred prayers and I realized that by taking the sacrament and renewing my covenants, I could wipe away the inward bruises on my soul. Through the years, I had been unpleasant to my family, ungrateful to my Young Women leaders, and imperfect in other ways. My soul was blemished from its original perfection. I knew the formula for healing physical wounds, but the way to heal spiritual scars hadn’t seemed so obvious.
“… keep his commandments which he has given them; that they may always have his Spirit to be with them” (D&C 20:77).
By listening closely, I realized that I could be healed through the Atonement of Jesus Christ.
I’m thankful for the hint from heaven that reminded me to pay attention when my slightly scarred hands reach out to partake of the sacrament. Each Sunday I commit to try to keep myself from getting more inward scrapes during the next week, and I remember that the wounds I have on my soul can be healed as I keep the commandments and listen to the Holy Ghost.

All young men over the age of 18 in Finland are required to serve in the military for 6 to 12 months. As I began my required service, I found that the opinions and attitudes of many of my army buddies conflicted with my principles. As a result, I took steps to stay close to the Spirit, praying at least twice a day and reading the scriptures.
At first I was nervous because I didn’t know how my buddies would react, but they didn’t seem to care, so I relaxed. After a while my bunk mates asked what I was reading. “The Book of Mormon,” I told them directly. Their next question, of course, was whether I was a Latter-day Saint. I told them I was, and for a while, they let the matter drop.
In time a few of my army buddies began to ask about the Book of Mormon—its origin, contents, and so forth. Later their questions ranged from the purpose of life to principles of the Church. My religion became a natural part of our discussions, and it popped up in almost any situation.
One fellow in a neighboring bunk asked if he could read from my Book of Mormon. Of course I said yes. On another occasion, after a roommate had returned from attending a funeral for a friend, he told me that the funeral had raised many questions in his mind about life and its purpose. He asked me what the Church believed about those things. We had a long discussion about the purpose of life, the Atonement, the Creation, and other gospel topics. Afterward, other roommates became interested in the Church’s teachings and standards.
During the rest of our time together, we had many discussions that always seemed to turn to the Church’s teachings. My roommates called these discussions “Ask the Mormon” sessions. Later, after we had graduated from our training, one roommate told me he had decided to quit swearing.
Throughout my time in the military, I noticed that the more open I was about my Church membership and the more faithfully I followed gospel teachings, the more open others were toward me and the more opportunities I had to share the gospel.
I am thankful for the blessings and opportunities I had to talk about the gospel during my army service. I testify that if we are bold in standing up for our values, we will be blessed with opportunities to do missionary work. And if we let the light of the gospel shine freely in our lives, we can protect ourselves from darkness and have a positive influence on the world around us.

Eighteen-year-old Chris Garrett has made a dramatic recovery from drug addiction so severe that he is considered lucky to be alive. He first drank alcohol as a small boy, was smoking marijuana by his early teenage years, and, within a few years, was using anything he could find: marijuana, cocaine, LSD (lysergic acid diethylamide), opium, crack, speed, and many types of prescription drugs. He even grew marijuana among his mother’s house plants. To finance his habit, he burglarized people’s homes, picked pockets, and took money from purses left in parked cars during church services. Three years ago, Chris entered a treatment program that took him fourteen months to complete.
Chris did not look like what most people think a drug abuser looks like, which is perhaps part of the reason his habit escaped his parents’ notice for a time. He was neat, well-dressed, and well-groomed. “You don’t have to look like a drug-user or associate with the ‘bad’ kids anymore to get into trouble,” says Carol White, a community leader in drug prevention. “I know one boy who started using drugs at work, and he used drugs with his closest friends and their parents. Many of those friends were leaders at his school.”

While in New York City, the choir performed a musical fireside in the newly dedicated Latter-day Saint meetinghouse in Harlem.
“Performing at Carnegie is such an accomplishment and a great feather to put in the hat of our music department,” said Justin Smith, the coordinator for the university’s performance tours. “But when we did the Harlem fireside with the newly formed BYU–Hawaii Alumni Chapter of New York, that became my tour highlight.”
Brother Smith continued: “Before the tour, the fireside seemed like just another ‘appointment’ on the itinerary—it kind of flew under the radar. That’s probably why it was so incredible, because it was an unexpected moment on the tour that really struck a chord. Carnegie was commendable. Harlem was the highlight.”

Not long ago I had the opportunity to fly in a small plane. As we were preparing to board, one of the passengers asked the pilot at what altitude we would be flying. He indicated that we would be flying at 9,500 feet (2,900 m). He said, “That will get us just above the clouds.” Then he explained, “If we fly below the clouds, the ride will be fairly rocky. However, if we can get through the clouds and up on top, we will have a much smoother ride.”
It was a concept that proved prophetic. For us in that airplane, it took a little bit more effort, a little bit more fuel, and a little turbulence to get through the clouds. However, once we were above the turbulence, the ride was, for the most part, smooth sailing. Although there was some brief turbulence and the need for the pilot to always be mindful of the flight conditions, the flight was much more comfortable.
Later I thought about the pilot’s words: “If we can get through the clouds and up on top, we will have a much smoother ride.” I thought about how much that applies to life itself. As we live in a mortal existence, there is much of the ugly and the base and the evil that we have to move above if we are to live the life of a Latter-day Saint. Then we can have the Spirit with us and feel the peace that is there for us to enjoy. It takes effort, it takes willpower, it takes courage, and it takes making correct choices for us to get above the turbulence around us. That turbulence includes the filth that surrounds us in the media. It includes discouragement, despair, and all the challenges of the “natural man” (Mosiah 3:19).