Gospel Story Finder

I should like to repeat a beautiful experience, which is very touching to me. I hope Bishop Featherstone won’t mind my mentioning him as the one about whom I am going to speak. This happened just after they moved here from their lovely home, where they had many friends and were very popular. He had come home after work and had gotten into his lounging clothes, and his young son, Joe, said, “Dad, I wish you would give me a special blessing so that I can adjust and feel at home and be happy here.”

His father went upstairs and changed his clothes. As he was coming down, his wife said, “Surely you are not going out tonight.” He said, “I am going to give someone a blessing.” And then he said, “Joe has asked for a special blessing, and I wanted to be dressed and ready to honor the priesthood and to show Joe the interest I have in him, and to make it possible for him to enjoy the blessings through the faith he has in me and the priesthood.”

Brethren, that is the spirit to have. And, of course, as he told his wife, you can naturally imagine what happened. She shed tears as she realized she had a husband, the father of her son, who would be an example and be so interested in him that he would be prepared to represent the Lord in the priesthood that he holds.

Elder Kikuchi’s mother struggled to raise her four children after her husband’s death. After graduating from junior high school, Elder Kikuchi went to work in a tofu (bean-curd) shop during the day and attended school at night. He became seriously ill from the exhausting schedule and was hospitalized.
“Though I was not a member of the Church or even a Christian,” Elder Kikuchi said, “I really prayed to God to help me. My recovery was miraculous, and I know that I was cured through the blessings of God and the help of medications.”

One of the especially happy times in my life happened when I was 17 years old. My friends and I went to a fireside where the speaker taught us about our Savior’s love. He told us that we could have confidence in the Savior, that He would lead us, that He would be there for us, that our faith in Him could increase and we could feel greater happiness than we had ever known.
But we needed to do something: We needed to choose to believe in the Savior and His love, we needed to ask for His help, and then we needed to practice thinking about Him all through the day.
The speaker suggested that to help us remember to think about the Savior, we could listen to the school bell that rang often during the day. Each time we heard the bell, we were to say a silent prayer, even with our eyes open, even walking down the hall. We could thank our Heavenly Father for our blessings, especially for our Savior. We could tell Him of our love and ask for His help. He taught us that in just a few seconds, many times during the day, we could practice thinking about our Heavenly Father and the Savior.
There was something else: The speaker suggested that almost immediately we move from praying for ourselves to praying for someone else—a friend, a teacher, a stranger—and asking Heavenly Father to bless that person.
He also warned us that although all of this might seem awkward at first, if we chose to try, we could truly be filled with His love, our faith really would grow, and we would feel joy.
That sounded wonderful to me. I decided to try.
I could not believe how many times the bell rang each day! When I heard it, I stopped. “Heavenly Father, thank you. Please bless me and bless Dorene. I know she’s having struggles.” It was awkward at first, but soon I found myself thinking about Heavenly Father and the Savior not only when the bell rang but many times during the day. I remember walking across a muddy field one morning and seeing a tiny yellow flower. It was probably a weed, but to me it was beautiful, and I felt that He had created it just for me. I loved Him so much. My faith had increased, and I was happy.

The day was scorching; my sister, Susie, and I waited impatiently outside the church for Dad to pick us up following his weekly golf game. The sweat trickled down my back; Susie’s golden curls were wet and drooping. I remember watching with envy as my friends left the church with their parents. I wished with all my heart that Mom and Dad would come with us to church. I had even prayed about it. But they always thought they were too busy or too tired. By the time Dad picked us up, we were half baked. I was angry at both him and Mom.
Mom had stayed home, as usual, fixing dinner. We sat around the table now, but I was still burning up inside. I detest spinach, so rather than taking any, I passed the bowl to Susie. Instantly, both Dad and Mom were nagging at me, saying, “Take some spinach, Dan! It’s good for you!”
I had reached my limit. I retorted, “Why don’t you come to church? It’s good for you, just like spinach is for me!” Dad struck me, and Mom left the table crying. I ran from the house angry and hurt.
“Am I a Christian, Rebecca?” I asked, as I came back to the present. “Let’s say I used to be.” She sensed my need for silence.
We walked along the dark, tree-lined street; only the crunching sound of autumn leaves under our feet interrupted the silence. I felt so alone in the cold, dark world. More than anything else I wanted Rebecca’s friendship. She seemed so sure of herself, so at peace with herself. I wanted to draw from her strength, to learn from her wisdom. I looked down at my feet, afraid of her warm eyes.
“Rebecca,” I whispered softly. “What is it that makes you so special?”
I could have guessed that she would say it was her belief in Deity; she impressed me as a deeply religious girl. I wondered, though, which religion was to receive the credit for making her so sensitive, tender, and caring.
I pressed further. “What is your religion, Rebecca? Are you Catholic, Protestant, or something else?”
Her lips held just a hint of a smile. “I guess I fall into the ‘something else’ category, Dan. I’m searching for truth wherever I can find it. I discover it in some unusual places. But I can’t help but wonder one thing. Is there one religion that contains all of the truth?”
Her question pricked me deeply. Her eyes were searching mine, imploring. I looked away—my past blazed before me. Silently, I bowed my head and prayed. I hadn’t done that in years! After a long moment, I returned her gaze.
“Rebecca,” I slowly began, “what do you know about the Mormon church?”

One day I decided to take my pocket Book of Mormon to preschool. I told my mom, “When we go places during the day, sometimes I start to forget about Jesus. I know I can remember Him better if I bring my scriptures.” During school, my teacher asked about my “little Bible.” I told her it was my Book of Mormon. I told her I brought it because my dad said we should always remember Jesus. My mom told me I was being a missionary and being like Jesus as I kept my scriptures close to me all day.

As young women, you have the privilege of working on projects as part of the Young Womanhood Recognition Award. Anna Nichols of Centerville, Utah, writes about a special experience she has had:
“I did a Laurel project last year that has brought me closer to my grandma whom I never knew. She passed away when my mom was about five years old from a severe type of cancer. My mom has a collection of old slides and letters that she had kept. I went through these and picked out pictures of her and her family and letters that she had written to her sister sharing her feelings and thoughts before she died.
“I put all these in a scrapbook in memory of her and I gave it to my grandpa. To watch his face as he turned each page was the most awesome feeling as he told me the stories of each picture. We cried together. I could tell that he misses her so much and how with this book she is partly back into his life again.
“Because of this book I have a personal relationship with my grandma. I feel her spirit with me. I know she has protected me and helped me when I am in need. Now when I go and visit my grandpa we always talk about her and share stories. I always look forward to this time I get to spend with him.”

Everyone needs to be home taught—but at sea? It was a misty Saturday evening. The guided-missile frigate USS William H. Standley was anchored in Golfe-Juan Harbor located between Cannes and Nice, France—a port commonly frequented by U.S. naval ships during their extended Mediterranean deployments.
Aboard the Standley, Navy Chaplain Thomas Pocock was expecting nothing unusual that evening—a little reading; perhaps he’d write a letter or two. Then he heard his name over the ship’s loudspeaker system: “Chaplain Pocock, call the quarterdeck!”
He called immediately and was informed by the messenger-of-the-watch: “There are three sailors from the USS Franklin D. Roosevelt here to see you. Should I escort them to your stateroom?”
Before the chaplain remembered who he knew on the FDR, he opened the door to three Mormon sailors. The leader announced, “We’ve come to home-teach you, Chaplain.”
Then the largest of the three put his arm around the chaplain and said, “We love you, brother.”
During the next three hours all felt the meaning of the scripture, “For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.”
Each visitor recounted his experiences in the Church, in the service, and in his role of sailor-missionary.
Chaplain Pocock knew one of the men. Bill Woodson was an old friend who had been baptized in June of 1970 while stationed at the Naval Air Station Memphis, in Millington, Tennessee.
The other two sailors were almost as new in the Church as Bill. Paul Quiring, the group leader, was baptized in November of 1969 while stationed in Vallejo, California. He had been introduced to the gospel at the Naval Training Center (boot camp) in San Diego.
The third man, Dave Kellogg, was baptized in May of 1970 while stationed at the Naval Station, Key West, Florida. Dave was the second counselor in the LDS group aboard the carrier as well as the priesthood advisor and instructor.
As his friends rose to leave, tears ran down the chaplain’s cheeks. What a thrill to know that three sailor converts, with a total of less than nine years membership in the Church among them, cared enough to deliver a gospel message on the high seas.

About a year later, Heber’s only living son became sick with a hip disease. One night Heber dreamed that the boy’s mother was waiting to take him to heaven. Heber’s brother woke him from the dream.
Brother: Come quickly, Heber. Your son is dying.
Heber: Was my dream real?
When Heber went into his son’s bedroom, he could feel that his wife’s spirit was there.
Heber: I feel such peace in this room that I can watch my son pass away without shedding a tear.
As President of the Church, he told the Saints of the Holy Ghost’s power to comfort us.
Heber: As I saw my little boy die, I experienced a sweet, peaceful, heavenly feeling greater than I had ever felt. The joy of the gospel robs the grave of its sting.

Jim and Helen Gebhard are from Grand Junction, a small town in western Colorado. Jim is an orthopedic surgeon and specializes in treating patients with spinal conditions.
Like the Tarrs, the Gebhards considered volunteering as area medical advisors and since they speak Spanish, they thought they could serve in a Spanish speaking country. However, they were also contacted about coming to American Samoa, where the hospital has not had anyone with a spinal specialty before. Upon arrival, Dr. Gebhard had a long list of patients to see.
“We have been able to help patients that have become paralyzed because their conditions were not recognized in time,” he says. “They will be helped even more when we get our surgery operations going here.”
Sister Gebhard has a master’s degree in child development and taught courses at the local community college in Grand Junction for parents with preschool children. She now teaches those same classes at the American Samoa Community College five days a week.
The Gebhards have already developed some very close relationships with patients. “We’ve even been invited to two weddings!”
Robert Keddington worked in emergency medicine in Utah and retired several years ago. In 2020 he got a call from a senior Church leader in Salt Lake City asking him if had ever thought about serving a medical mission.
“My wife, Sue, and I prayed sincerely to know if this was something we should do and got a lovely answer from our Father in Heaven that we should go.”
“I wasn’t too sure about getting back into practice after being away for so long,” Dr. Keddington says. “I was also concerned about seeing patients with conditions related to the tropics, something I had never seen in my practice in Utah. But before I left, my local church leader gave me a blessing and told me that I would be blessed with recall to help the people here. I found again and again that as I was examining a patient, I could recall something I learned in medical school more than 40 years ago that was just what this patient needed. Truly a blessing from the Lord.”
In July 2022, the Keddingtons completed two years of service in Pago Pago. They loved every minute of their time there.
Former Pacific Area President Vincent Haleck spoke at a farewell event for the Keddingtons. He remembered how difficult it used to be for patients in American Samoa to receive necessary medical attention. “I saw many islanders try to [go] to New Zealand to get treatment but so few were able to . . . I thought how wonderful it would be to have these medical treatments available right here at home in American Samoa.” With encouragement from President Russell M. Nelson, himself a physician, it was Elder Haleck who developed the programme that eventually brought the Keddingtons and other doctors to the Pacific.
In his final remarks, Dr. Keddington said, “I have seen the hand of the Lord in my service to the people here,” he says.
“It’s been a humbling, gratifying experience.”

Joseph turned the page in his book. He frowned. He had two more pages to go.
“Are you OK?” Mamá asked.
“I like to read,” Joseph said. “But I am so slow. How can I learn to read better?”
“I know!” Mamá said. “Read a chapter of the Book of Mormon every day. It will help you learn to read better.”
Joseph tried. At first it took a long time. He had to sound out the long words. But he kept reading. Soon he could read more than one chapter.
Two weeks went by. Joseph’s bookmark moved from 1 Nephi to 2 Nephi. Then it was in the book of Jacob!
One night it was Joseph’s turn to give the lesson in family home evening.
“I know what to do!” Joseph said. He found the Book of Mormon Stories book. It had words and pictures. He turned the pages until he found the perfect story.
Joseph read the story to his family. He read short words, like ship. He read long words, like commanded. Prophets wrote these words long ago. The words were easy to read.
When the story was over, Mamá had tears in her eyes.
“Are you OK, Mamá?” Joseph asked.
“I’m happy,” Mamá said. “You have worked hard.”
Joseph smiled big.
“I read every day.” He showed Mamá his Book of Mormon. His bookmark was in the book of Alma!
Someday Joseph’s bookmark would be at the end of the book. And then he could start over!

President Russell M. Nelson, President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles
“Music has always been an important part of our family activities, especially at Christmastime. One night preceding each Christmas, our extended family—brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts, cousins (and our parents before they passed away)—crowd into our living room for the children to stage their annual Christmas pageant. We read the scriptural accounts of the Lord’s birth from the second chapter of Luke and from the Book of Mormon. Then we sing carols, accompanied by pianists and other instrumentalists. Of course, we sing the whimsical ditties about Santa and many more. We get warmed up on those numbers. Then we sing our favorites about the Savior. By the time we sing our closing song, “Silent Night,” we truly feel the real spirit of Christmas.
“Just as the Savior’s mother pondered sacred things in her heart, so some of our deepest feelings of reverence and gratitude are unspoken and unsung. Some are felt only deeply within. They are so sacred that speaking openly of them would seem in some way to desecrate them. I’m sure we all feel that way when we sing and ponder the birth, the mission, and the atonement of the Lord Jesus Christ.”3

When I was a college freshman, I found myself flustered and frustrated as I tried to get through my first semester. It was very difficult to fit everything into my busy schedule, which included a full load of classes, a very time-consuming Church calling, and the everyday adjustments of living on my own for the first time. As December arrived, I became overwhelmed with everything. With the pressure of finals and a lack of time and money, I didn’t feel the Christmas spirit at all.
I went home a week before Christmas, wondering what to do for gifts. I had been assigned to buy a present for my younger sister Rachel and didn’t know what to get her, until my friend showed me a very plain little stuffed bear her mother had made for her and the touching poem she’d written to go along with it.
On Christmas Eve, I found myself working frantically to finish a bear. My mom came to my room, sat down with me, and helped me get it done for Christmas morning.
As Rachel tore the paper from the package and peered inside, a huge smile spread across her face. There were tears in everyone’s eyes as the family realized what a special gift it was. In its seams, and in the poem attached, was the real meaning of Christmas. There was love in that simple bear.
—Lisa McKinstryRexburg, Idaho

This time her fifth-grade teacher was furious!
“Oh, oh,” Flora moaned, bolting for the door. “This time I’ve really done it! Can’t Tad ever leave me alone?”
Outside the classroom, Flora leaned against the wall, trying not to cry. Not only had she lost her temper again, but she’d also torn the one nice dress she had. It’s all Tad’s fault, she thought. If only he and his friends wouldn’t tease me!
Poor Flora. The kids did tease her. They teased her about her tousled blond hair. They teased her about her mismatched skirts and blouses. They teased her because nobody liked her. And nobody liked her because when they teased her, she got angry—screaming, hitting, chair-throwing angry.
As Flora stood silently blaming everyone else for her problems, the new girl in her class appeared in the hall on her way to the library. “Why’d you go and do that, Flora?” Jerri Ann asked. “It wasn’t Tad’s fault that you missed so many words on the spelling test.”
“It was, too,” Flora shot back. “He makes me nervous, and he covers his paper so that the teacher will think I’m copying. Anyway, what’s it to you?”
Jerri Ann didn’t blanch at the rude question. “It just seems to me,” she said, “that it would be a whole lot easier to study and get a hundred and show Tad that you don’t need to cheat. I’d be glad to study with you anytime.” With that, Jerri Ann turned and walked on to the library.
Humph! though Flora. Tad was always teasing her, and he seemed to enjoy her tirades. But I’ll get even with him—if I’m not suspended! she thought, suddenly remembering her teacher’s earlier warning. She quietly opened the door to the classroom and tried to slip unnoticed into her seat at the back of the room. No such luck—Tad saw her and gave her a big grin that said, “Oh, boy, are you going to get it now!”
At recess, Tad found Flora and started in on her: What punishment had she received? What had the teacher said to her? What had the principal done to her? And on and on. Flora felt herself getting red in the face, and her fists tightened around the jump rope in her hands. She wanted to hit Tad, or scream at him, or something! She threw the jump rope to the ground and was storming toward Tad when Jerri Ann ran up and asked her to play tetherball. As Jerri Ann coaxed, Flora began to calm down. Finally she agreed to play, and the two girls ran off together, leaving Tad to himself.
“You see,” said Jerri Ann as she served the ball to Flora, “if there’s nobody to make mad, Tad’s little game isn’t so much fun for him. Why do you let him make you so mad?”
“Let him!” Flora yelped. “I can’t stop him!”
“You just did. He’s not here now, is he?”
“No. But he doesn’t always go away so easily,” Flora said. She thought about what Jerri Ann had told her, and wondered, Do I really let Tad make me throw temper tantrums?
During the next few days, Tad continued to tease her, and Jerri Ann continued to point out what she ought to have done in each case. Flora wondered why Jerri Ann tried to help her—they hardly knew each other, really—but she began to listen. And she surely did admire the way Jerri Ann was always so cool.
One day Flora actually walked away on her own from Tad’s taunts. But the next day she lost control and threw her books on the floor when she missed five words on the practice spelling test. Afterward she felt so bad that she went straight home and studied her spelling words, and the next day she beat Tad on the final test. He gave her a grudging smile and didn’t tease her even once at recess.
Little by little Flora learned how to avoid getting angry by being prepared and ignoring—or at least pretending to ignore—her classmate’s insults. Tad had even commented, “Boy, Flora, you’re no fun to tease anymore!”
And not only was Flora keeping her temper, she was gaining a friend! She’d never had a real friend before; she’d always scared most of the kids away. But Jerri Ann seemed to like Flora, and Flora definitely liked Jerri Ann. Whenever she found herself getting angry, she could turn to Jerri Ann, and together they would find a way out.
Flora came to depend on her friend, and she felt lost one Friday when Jerri Ann was absent. At first Flora began to tell herself that it was going to be a bad day, that she would never be able to cope alone. Then she wondered what Jerri Ann would say to that. Maybe if she tried to think of what Jerri Ann would do, she could make it through the day. Well, she’d give it a try!
And things went well all morning! Even recess had presented no challenges. This is going to be a snap, Flora thought happily. Then, at lunchtime, trouble came. Tad had challenged her to a game of tetherball, and they had no more than begun the game when a sixth-grade boy came over and said, “Hey, creep. Don’t get cooties on the ball. I might want to play.”
Flora tensed up, but before she could say anything, Tad sprang to her side and seemed ready to punch the older boy. Flora was so amazed by Tad’s standing up for her that she forgot to be angry! “It’s all right, Tad. I’m not mad. He’s probably afraid that I’m going to win and doesn’t want to have to play me.” Flora turned and gave the boy a big grin. “Isn’t that right?” Flora knew that she could never beat Tad, much less the sixth grader. But it didn’t matter, because she had kept her temper! And Tad had stuck up for her! Whatever the outcome of the tetherball game, Flora was a winner!

Let me tell you about one of my recent experiences. I was assigned to a stake conference to release the stake president, who had served for many, many years. It was a difficult stake to administer. The stake had been losing population. It was located near one of our major city centers. Industry had moved in. With the growth of industry, many of the members had moved out to the more suburban areas. Because of his assignment, he had stayed in the area to shepherd the flock. He had not found it to be a hopeless situation. Through his energy, effort, and great enthusiasm, the stake started to grow once again.
As the weekend progressed, his children came by auto and air, returning home to pay tribute to their father for his years of faithful service. I found a special spirit in this home. They were a very close family. How they enjoyed being together!
As I stood to address the conference in its final session, there seated to my left sat his entire family, tears streaming down their faces as they honored their father on this grand occasion.
Following the conference session, I had been invited to stay for family dinner before leaving for the airport to fly home. As the family gathered around the table, the father requested that we kneel in family prayer. Kneeling in prayer, I discovered their strength. This family understood their relationship to God, their Eternal Father. They understood their relationship to their earthly father and mother, to their brothers and sisters. The brotherhood and sisterhood existing in this family unit made it easy for them to stretch beyond their borders to friends and neighbors.
Being a guest in so many different homes over the last few years has certainly convinced me that a special spirit is clearly evident when a family prays together.

As she became a young adult herself, Ioana wanted to do the same and help others feel welcome in the Savior’s Church. Though she felt nervous about reaching out to people she didn’t know, she was learning to listen to the Holy Ghost and trust the promptings she received.
When another young woman joined, Ioana got up the courage to talk to her. They discovered a mutual interest in music, and Ioana offered to teach her to lead the singing. Before long they were spending time together, serving as branch pianist and music leader.
“As I prepared myself to receive the guidance of the Holy Ghost, I started to notice Him putting thoughts in my head, answering my questions, prompting me,” Ioana said. “There were times I didn’t know what to say, and then something would come. It felt right when I said it. I’m learning to trust the Holy Ghost.”
She learned that often the things that help others feel like they belong aren’t big. For her, it was being included in Sunday School or activities, playing sports or crazy games, baking cookies, and having dance nights. “It wasn’t fancy. It was just having a good time or being able to talk. And when it’s connected to something spiritual, that can make it extra special.”

Being brought up in the Church, I was always told by my friends and family that this was the true church. But I never really bothered to find out for myself. I just assumed it was true because everything pretty much made sense and my parents seemed so sincere about it.
I had always planned to go on a mission, partially because I felt I was expected to and also because I felt I needed to. After I received my mission call, I really began to wonder about the truthfulness of the Church. But I had never prayed about it, and now that I was close to going on my mission I didn’t have the courage to ask.
While at the Missionary Training Center, I was in high spirits. I was enjoying the knowledge I was gaining. Still, in the back of my mind the thought still lingered. I needed to know for myself if the gospel was true, but I continued to push the thought away.
One day my teacher finished giving a great lesson. He then bore his testimony and challenged each of us to find out for ourselves that the Church was true. I felt the lesson was aimed specifically at me. That night, I asked Heavenly Father to help me know that what I was doing was right and that the Church was true.
I finished my prayer and waited and waited. Feeling nothing, I became discouraged and went to bed.
A couple of days later, I was studying the scriptures when I read: “Verily I say unto you my friends, fear not, let your hearts be comforted; yea, rejoice evermore, and in everything give thanks;
“Waiting patiently on the Lord, for your prayers have entered into the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth, and are recorded with this seal and testament—the Lord hath sworn and decreed that they shall be granted.
“Therefore, he giveth this promise unto you, with an immutable covenant that they shall be fulfilled; and all things wherewith you have been afflicted shall work together for your good; and to my name’s glory, saith the Lord” (D&C 98:1–3).
These verses helped me understand the need for patience. A few days later at a fireside, we were talking about our prophets. I’ll never forget that night. It was the first time I had ever felt the Spirit so strongly. Toward the conclusion, we stood and sang “We Thank Thee, O God, for a Prophet.” I was overwhelmed. I knew the Holy Ghost was testifying to me; I also knew that the current prophet was leading the true church.
I recently returned from serving in the Tucson Arizona Mission. I am grateful for that special day in the MTC. I learned it’s never too late or too early to pray about the truth. The Lord always answers our prayers.

Aaron watched the snowy scenery whiz by the car window. His family was returning home after spending Thanksgiving with their grandparents and cousins. Soon he fell asleep in the backseat, along with his two sisters.
Suddenly the car swerved, and Aaron jerked awake. The car rolled over once and then came to a stop with a jolt.
“What happened?” Aaron asked.
“I fell asleep at the wheel,” Dad said in a shaky voice. He reached out to touch Mom’s cheek. “Are you all right?”
Mom nodded and turned to look at Aaron and his sisters.
“We’re all right, Mom,” Aaron said. He was grateful his parents always insisted that everyone wear seat belts and that Kaitlyn was in her car seat.
Nicole reached for his hand. Aaron squeezed her hand in return.
The family sat huddled in the car, waiting for the ambulance to arrive.
When the paramedics arrived, they examined everyone. “It’s a miracle that your family came through alive,” one of the paramedics said.
“It is a miracle,” Mom said.
The ambulance took Aaron’s family to the nearest hospital. Mom got six stitches on her cheek, but no one else needed treatment.
Then they took their car to a service station to have it checked out. The car was safe to drive, so Aaron’s family resumed their trip. When they finally got home, it was just before midnight. Everyone felt tired and shaken.
“There is something we need to do,” Mom said.
They all knelt on the living room floor. Dad paused a few moments. Then he began, “Father, we come to thee in thanksgiving.”
After the prayer, everyone remained on their knees. Then Mom got up and headed to the kitchen. “I think we all need something to eat,” she said. She pulled meat and bread from the refrigerator and started making sandwiches.
Aaron thought it was funny that they were having dinner at midnight. Then he realized they hadn’t eaten anything since lunch. “Is this like a second Thanksgiving?” he asked.
Dad smiled for the first time since the accident. “That’s right, Aaron. We have more than usual to thank Heavenly Father for.”

Although Tawnya loves competition, the weight pulls are the only contests Tawnya has entered. What she’d really like to do is enter her team in the 150-mile Junior Iditarod, held each year in Alaska.
“I thought that would be the most awesome thing in the whole world, since I can’t compete in the real Iditarod until I’m 18,” she says. “So I wrote for the information on it, and they sent me a packet. I was so disappointed when I learned it was held over a weekend, on Saturday and Sunday. I asked them if they could change it, but they wouldn’t.
“That was a big hang-up. I wanted to run it so bad. I really had to fight with myself. But I finally got to the point where I realized that this would go against everything I’d ever been taught. It wasn’t worth it.”
So instead of training for the big races, Tawnya is content spending a couple of hours each day after school with her dogs. In the summer, when there’s no snow on the ground and her sled is useless, she hitches the dogs to a three-wheel cart. On Saturdays she cleans the dog runs, but Sundays she reserves for church.

During an Old Testament class at the institute of religion, he met Lesa Jean Higley, who had moved from California to Idaho and was now a student at Utah State. “The teacher asked Lesa to role-play as Eve and for me to play the role of Satan to tempt her. As a result, it took a while for me to convince her to go out with me,” he recalls with a smile. They dated for just over a year and then married in the Idaho Falls Idaho Temple in 1979.

Another false philosophy that appeals to the Mr. Hyde side of our natures is that peeking into pornography is harmless. This is a terrible deception. Pornography is as addictive as cocaine or any illegal drug. I recently received a heartbreaking letter from an excommunicated man whose soul is filled with sorrow and regret. With his permission, I quote the following from his letter: “I hope that this letter will confirm to any who have doubt that the path of destruction only reaps sorrow and grief, and no sin is worth this price.”

He goes on to state: “I have brought grief and sorrow upon myself. Only now do I fully realize the great destruction that I have brought upon myself. No selfish or lustful desire is worth losing your Church membership for. I have brought terrible grief to my wife and two wonderful children. I am grateful for my wife’s great efforts to help me overcome my sins. My wife has been a victim of my sins and had to endure great sorrow and suffering. I long for the day that I can again be a member of the Lord’s Church and for our family to be an eternal family.”

The letter goes on to admit: “My sins are a direct result of my early childhood addiction to pornography. Without a doubt, pornography is addictive and is poison. Had I learned early in my life to apply the power of self-mastery, I would be a member of the Church today.”