Gospel Story Finder

Our son is a new hematology-oncology doctor. He has had the blessing of obtaining all his medical school education and training through a scholarship from the United States Army Medical Department (AMEDD). It has provided 100 percent of his tuition, housing costs, and expenses and even a small monthly stipend during medical school. When he was working hard to qualify for that scholarship and fearing the possibility of having to take out six-figure loans if he did not, I remember a conversation we had. I will never forget what he shared. My son told me that he knew it would all work out somehow because he was committed to paying tithes and fast offerings while he was in medical school.
He wanted to know he was doing everything he could to qualify for the Lord’s help with the large task he was setting out to accomplish. His work ethic has since been tested to its limit, but he is a good example to me of never being weary in well doing (see Doctrine and Covenants 64:33). Even with his busy hospital schedule, he has happily accepted heavy Church assignments, and he and his wife and little family have been blessed.

After learning about the new Duty to God booklet in a fireside last year, Aleks Miller—deacons quorum president of the North Shore Ward, Vancouver British Columbia Stake—was eager to get started. He and his father set up a schedule to meet each Sunday to work on a section of the booklet together.
“My dad and I, every week, sit down and look through a section of the book,” says Aleks. “We start with a prayer, and then we learn the stuff and read the scriptures. We answer the questions in the section and then write down how we can implement what we’ve learned.” Aleks often shares with his mother what he and his father are working on. “I talked with my mom about the sacrament and the meaning of the sacrament prayers and wrote down some ideas about how I, as a deacon, could help make the sacrament more meaningful for her.”
After only a few weeks of these Duty-to-God-with-Dad meetings, Aleks noticed it was making a difference in his life. “It makes me feel really good,” he says. Sitting down with his father is not always the first thing Aleks wants to do on a Sunday afternoon, “but once we start learning and reading together, I’m a lot happier and I feel better about doing it.”
Aleks has set new goals and is gaining a greater understanding of the gospel as he studies and learns with his father. “One of the sections in Duty to God suggested we study five topics in For the Strength of Youth and then write down a goal for each one so that you can do better,” explains Aleks. “I chose honesty. So one of my goals was to let my parents know when I do something wrong instead of just keeping it to myself.”
Another topic Aleks chose was education. “My goal was to go an entire month in school with no messing around in class and finishing all my work so I wouldn’t have any homework. It’s going pretty well, and now I have a lot of extra time.”
Now Aleks is encouraging all the deacons in his quorum to work on fulfilling their duty to God. And he offers the same advice to any other young men who are thinking about opening their booklets and getting down to work: “Just do it,” he says. “If you can’t seem to get started on your own, do it like I do and ask your dad to do it with you.”

“My grandparents were converts to the Church and became totally committed to the gospel. Dad recalls many times when as a child he witnessed the power of the priesthood in his home. One night when his younger sister was very ill with whooping cough, she couldn’t breathe and they thought she might die. Dad remembers Grandpa laying his hands on her head and blessing her that she would be able to breathe and live. She soon became better. Such experiences left a lasting impression on him.”

Another White House gift became a matter of life and death to young Tad Lincoln. A friend of President Lincoln’s, a successful turkey grower, sent one of his best gobblers to be served for a White House Christmas dinner. Tad quickly made friends with the handsome bird and named him Jack. The two of them spent many hours racing around the White House grounds. Finally, when it came time for the turkey to be readied for the holiday feast, Tad would not hear of such a thing.
“Father, you can’t let anyone kill Jack,” the boy pleaded. “He’s my friend!”
“But if we do not serve him for Christmas dinner, I might offend the man who gave us the turkey.”
“Then I’ll talk to him. I’ll tell him Jack is my friend and that I want him to live.”
President Lincoln nodded, gently resting a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Then Jack will be spared,” his father agreed. “A good friend is worth far more than a good dinner.”

Some of my friends in school use Heavenly Father’s name in vain. It had always bothered me, but now I thought about it even more. I wondered what I could do about it. I wanted my friends to know that Heavenly Father is special. I decided to ask my mom and dad about it. I wanted to say something to my friends, but I was afraid that they would be mad at me and not play with me anymore. My parents told me two stories that helped a lot.
After hearing that, I decided I would try to be like those I had heard about and stand up for the right. The next day at school when I heard one of my friends say something bad, I asked him not to say it anymore. I was still afraid, but it turned out OK. He agreed and is still my friend. I felt good inside because I had done the right thing, just like Jesus always did.

Such a lesson was recounted on a radio and television program many remember with fondness. The program was entitled Death Valley Days. The narrator, known as the Old Ranger, seemed to come right into our living rooms as he would tell tales of the West.
On one program, the Old Ranger related how the glass was obtained for the windows of the St. George Tabernacle. The glass was manufactured in the East. Then it was placed on a ship in New York that sailed forth on the long and at times perilous journey around Cape Horn and up to the west coast of America. The precious glass, stored in cartons, was then transported to San Bernardino, California, to await the overland trek to St. George.
David Cannon and the brethren in St. George had the duty to go to San Bernardino with their teams and wagons to retrieve the glass, that the tabernacle of the Lord could be completed. One problem: They needed the then-astronomical sum of $800.00 to pay for the glass. They had no money. David Cannon turned to his wife and to his son and asked, “Do you think that we can raise the money, that we might obtain the glass for the tabernacle?”
His tiny son, David Jr., said, “Daddy, I know we can!” He then produced two cents of his own money and gave it to his father. Wilhelmina Cannon, David’s wife, went through the secret hiding places that all women have in their houses. Her search produced $3.50 in silver. The community was scoured for money, and at length the sum of $200.00 was accumulated—$600.00 short of the required amount.
David Cannon sighed the sigh of despair of one who had failed although he had tried his best. The little family was really too weary to sleep and too discouraged to eat, so they prayed. Morning dawned. The teamsters gathered with their wagons and teams, prepared to undertake the long journey to San Bernardino. But they had no $600.00. Then there came a knock at the door, and Peter Neilson from the nearby community of Washington entered the house. He said to David Cannon, “Brother David, I have had a persistent dream that I should bring the money I had saved to expand my house—bring it to you, that you would have a purpose for it.”
While all of the men gathered around the table, including little David Jr., Peter Neilson took out a red bandanna and dropped gold pieces, one by one, upon the table. When David Cannon counted the gold pieces, they totaled $600.00—the exact amount needed to obtain the glass. Within an hour the men waved good-bye and, with their teams, set forth on their journey to San Bernardino to retrieve the glass for the St. George Tabernacle.
When that true story was told over Death Valley Days, David Cannon Jr. was then 87 years of age. He listened to the story with rapt attention. I believe that in his mind he once again heard those gold pieces, one by one, dropping upon the table as astonished men saw with their very eyes the answer to their prayers.

“Turn on your lights”—Sister Sharon Eubank’s message for October 2017—was the theme of our stake Relief Society activity for this year 2018.
The purpose was to unite sisters, increase their self-­worth, and enlighten their minds toward ministering and temple preparation.
All were excited. The preparations from the stake activity committee began. They started planning, organizing, and assigning sisters for the activity.
We were five wards and one branch, which was a big number to coordinate. Each ward’s sisters were assigned with a topic to present on the day of activity with a skit or presentation.
And these were the topics covered:
Being righteous
Being articulate/different/distinct
Being happy
Preparing for the temple
Being self-reliant
Ministering/the worth of souls
Each ward started preparing for their presentation on the activity day. The long wait came to an end.
?It was a beautiful morning. When the activity began, there were not as many sisters as was expected. However, they began with an opening hymn and prayer. And slowly more sisters started coming in. There was a message from the stake Relief Society president. She displayed different kinds of lights and explained about each light, comparing it with the qualities of the sisters. It was a beautiful message.
Then the actual part of the sisters came. It was time for them to showcase or present their topics.
Here I would like to talk about the dedication and the commitment of one group of sisters of a small branch of another city which belongs to our stake. They had to travel two-and-half to three hours to join the activity. They began with the presentation of being righteous women. They were indeed righteous women by example.
Each group of sisters came forward and presented their topics in the form of skits. Every one of them had put in a lot of effort to convey the message in a spiritual way and with a little bit of humor.
We all laughed and enjoyed ourselves, but in the end of each presentation, we were touched by the Spirit for the messages they carried about how to be happy always, how to be articulate and different, how to be self-reliant, and how to prepare for the temple.
It was amazing to see how the sisters joined hands together, both young and old, in acting it out. Lastly it was concluded by the testimonies of a few sisters who strengthened ours for their commitment to the gospel.
We all were given a framed picture of lights to remind us to turn on lights that we have and give light to others and also to help others to turn on theirs as well. Along with it was a reminder of the four things President Nelson challenged the sisters to do during the last general conference.
On the whole, the activity was great! The stake Relief Society presidency had planned very hard to put all this together for us to learn and enjoy at the same time. They even had to work till midnight to pack those gifts for the sisters. We could see and feel the love and dedication they had for all of us and they turned on their lights. The sisters from the KGF Branch were different and articulate by setting an example of traveling so far to show how much they loved the Lord.

There’s something different about Chris and Jason Trevino of Huntsville, Alabama. Something different in a positive way, a way that makes you want to understand why they’re so upbeat all the time and why they seem to have life all figured out.
This is made all the more intriguing by the fact that the two 19-year-old brothers are identical twins—twins so much alike that people get confused, yet with something so different about them they stand out among their peers. For example:
—They spend a lot of time helping their neighbors, the Wellmans, take care of their three youngest children, Michael, Jennifer, and Nathan. They play and laugh with and tease them in a good-natured way. They organize parties for them and take them fishing or boating. Sometimes they all camp out as a group in the Wellmans’ backyard. Chris and Jason are more like older brothers than neighbors to them. And what do the twins get in return for their kindness? A squeeze play. The kids smother them with hugs.
—They take care of three horses at a nearby riding club, mostly in return for the privilege of being allowed to exercise them now and then. They do the dirty work without complaining. They show up when they say they will and do all that they’re asked. They help with expenses. They’re totally dependable.
—They love their family. Put Jim and Barbara Trevino and their twin boys together and it’s like you’re with a group of best buddies, friends who treat each other with ultimate respect. Add 15-year-old sister Allison to the mix, and it only gets better.
Bad mood? The twins make it disappear.
Help with homework? No problem.
Want to tag along while we go somewhere? Great. Hop in.
Yes, the twins treat everyone well, most of all mom and dad and sister. But there’s something else—fondness may be the closest description. This family really enjoys being together, in a way that lets you know they’ll always be close.
—Most of all, at a time in life when many young men of their age and athletic ability concentrate on which college they’ll attend, what teams they’ll be on, and what young women they’re dating, the twins are leaving all that behind.
Argentina. That’s what they want to talk about right now, because soon that’s where they’ll be. They’ve both been called to serve as full-time missionaries for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Chris in Bahia Blanca. Jason in Resistencia. Two years at their own expense. Two years bearing testimony of the Lord Jesus Christ. Two years focused entirely on the needs of other people.
And maybe that’s the clue to figuring out the Trevino twins. The difference that makes them both the same is their love for other people. It’s a love that comes from following the Savior and living his teachings, from concentrating on what really counts instead of wasting worry on worldly things. It’s a dedication that brings happiness so filling it spills out into everything they do and everyone they meet. Add that to personalities that have always been spontaneous, and you’ll find Chris and Jason telling everyone what they’re up to:
—Getting passport pictures taken, they keep telling the photographer about how they’ll be representing the Church. “That’s why we brought our suits for the pictures,” Chris explains.
—Meeting with the county sheriff, who has to sign letters for their visas, they can’t help explaining how excited they are about spreading the gospel. “I can tell,” chuckles the sheriff, who already knows their father.
—At the county government building, they tell the clerks about going to Argentina to preach the gospel. “Isn’t that great?” Jason beams.
—Their mother’s boss, Victor Howard, is a Church member who works across the street. Dropping in to visit, they soon have him joking along with them. But after a few minutes, they talk seriously about the mission he served and how much he loves the Lord, the gospel, and the Church.
You have to understand. Chris and Jason are the kind of guys who, if you ask about diving and you’re close to the community pool, will show you the dives they do. Never mind that they didn’t bring their suits. They’ve been lifeguards here, and the caretaker, who knows them well, gives permission. They look at each other, accept the challenge, and even though they’re in jeans, jump on the board and plunge in the pool. You get the feeling that’s the same way they’ll plunge into missionary work—follow the rules, be dependable, work hard. But get with it—no wimpy excuses.
It’s sort of like a lesson Chris says he learned at the stables.
“Horses are good,” he explains. “If you work with them you learn to love them. But there’s one named Alvin. I don’t like to ride him a whole bunch because of his attitude. He fights me and tries to get the reins from my hands. He thinks he should do what he wants when he wants. There are a few missionaries who are like that. If their mind’s stuck on somebody back home, or if they go out just because everybody else thinks they should be there, they’ve got to change their attitude. You can’t complain about the reins; you’ve got to concentrate on where you’re going.”
And that’s what Chris and Jason are doing—concentrating on where they’re going. Not just on their missions but in their lives.
Sure there are some things that will be tough to leave behind. Family first of all. Friends a close second. Even the horses they’ve taken care of. And school, and work, and just having a blast. But nothing stands in the way once you gain the perspective of eternity. Even having to work in separate missions.
“Chris opened his call letter first, and I saw Argentina,” Jason says. “Then I opened mine, and for a split second it was like, ‘We’ll be in the same mission!’ Then we read more and found out we’d be in different parts of the country. We’ve been together for 19 years, and now we’ll be apart. But that doesn’t matter. What matters is what we’ll be doing.”
Serving others. Bringing them the truth.
Like the times when they’ve talked with Mrs. Wellman about her oldest son, who died in an accident at age four, and where he is now and what he’s doing. Like the times when they’ve shared Church magazines with her, or watched the video Called to Serve.
“Don’t just let her borrow it,” Chris said then. “Let’s have her over here and we’ll all watch it together.”
These are, after all, brothers who are close in more ways than appearance. “We talk about everything together,” Jason says. “Now we’ll just do it through our letters.” That will make for some pretty great letters. Letters they’ll share with Mom and Dad and Allison. Letters they’ll share with the Wellmans and their kids. Letters they’ll share with close friends. Letters in which they’ll bear testimony and record the adventures of two years spent preaching the gospel.
“In the past we looked at missions like they were something they ask you to do,” Jason says. “Once we got closer to it, we thought, ‘It’s the Lord and the prophet who call you, and their way is the right way to go.’ We’d go to church and come home in such a great mood. We talk to everybody about it.”
That includes the 12- and 13-year-old Sunday School class he and Chris teach together.
“I’m learning more and more about the gospel,” Jason says, “especially when we talk about things like the plan of salvation and patriarchal blessings. It’s a learning experience. And I think a lot about Heavenly Father and how much he loves us. He gave up his son for us. He must have a lot of love for us to do something like that.”
“Being as close as I am to my brother,” Chris continues, “it gives me some understanding of how close I should be to the Savior, who is also my brother. Even though Jason and I will be apart during our missions, we’ll be close to Him. And that will make the bond between us even stronger.”
Faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. That’s the something that makes these twins different from a lot of their peers, but exactly the same in what truly counts.
Editor’s note: Since this story was written, both Chris and Jason have arrived in Argentina and are faithfully serving their missions.

Elder Jeffrey R. Holland told of a young man who was the brunt of his peers’ teasing during his school years. Some years later he moved away, joined the military, received an education, and became active in the Church. This period of his life was marked with wonderfully successful experiences.
After several years he returned to his hometown. However, the people refused to acknowledge his growth and improvement. To them, he was still just old “so-and-so,” and they treated him that way. Eventually, this good man faded away to a shadow of his former successful self without being able to use his marvelously developed talents to bless those who derided and rejected him once again. What a loss, both for him and the community!

The first vignette is Brigham Young’s arrival in the Salt Lake Valley in 1847, as described by President Gordon B. Hinckley (1910–2008): “No plow had even broken its soil. [Brigham Young] knew nothing of its fertility, nothing of the seasons, the weather, the frost, the severity of the winters, the possibility of insect plagues. [Early explorers] Jim Bridger and Miles Goodyear had nothing good to say concerning this place. Sam Brannan pleaded with him to go on to California. He listened to none of them. He led his people to this hot and what must have appeared as a very forlorn place. When he arrived, he looked across this broad expanse to the salt lake in the west and said, ‘This is the right place.’”8

At Scout camp, my troop and I had a “spiritual moment” every night before we went to bed. During that time, we’d read a story from the New Era. Afterward, we’d have a discussion about the story and a closing prayer.
Two boys who were not members of the Church were with our troop, and after the first couple of nights they started participating in the discussions and prayers. During the week we taught them about Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. I’m glad we have so many tools for sharing the gospel.

I have learned so much. Sometimes it seems that I’m not even the same person I used to be. I used to be afraid of anyone who was different from me. I work at the Morris Center cafeteria, and it is one of my jobs to help people with a handicap carry their trays to the tables. But I used to be so afraid of them that when I saw someone with a handicap coming, I would go to the other end of the cafeteria. One of the other workers would have to help.
One day that didn’t work. There were people with handicaps at both ends of the cafeteria. I had to help a blind boy to his table! What do I say? I thought. Should I act as if there’s nothing wrong? Well, here goes. When he asked me my name, I just about died. I forgot it, and then when I remembered, I said it in a cracked voice.
That’s the way people acted, even close friends, when they found out I had cancer! What do I say? Will she start crying? Everyone either went the long way around, or they acted like nothing was wrong. They would forget that I am a person. Sometimes it was funny, especially if they thought my illness was contagious, but mostly it just hurt. I don’t want to be treated any differently from anyone else.
I began to understand how handicapped people must feel. There is a guy named Skip in my psychology class. He is blind. Everyone used to take the long way around him. One day I sat next to him. He said hello and put his hand out. I gave him mine and said, “Hi, I’m Karen.”
Now there are a lot of people who sit by Skip. He’s a great guy. He likes to tell blind jokes, like “Don’t leave me in the dark.” Or he will tell us about the blind date that he had over the weekend. I’ve missed out on so much because I’ve been afraid or because I didn’t take the time to understand.

We taught Peter for seven months before I was transferred. Some Navajo elders then taught him in his own language. He asked them, “Where is my tall blonde friend?” He was receptive to their teachings and joined the Church. I am proud to have helped open the door for my good friend to receive the gospel.
Peter couldn’t go to church very often because there was no one to stay with the sheep. He lived 60 miles away from a church and had no truck. He couldn’t walk that far, and few could go the 120 miles round trip over rough country both to pick him up and to take him home. But I didn’t worry too much about him because Peter was a good man who lived a good life. I knew that his Heavenly Father knew where he was just as surely as Peter knew where to find old Box. Even alone on top of his distant mesa, he was within the fold.

“Economically, our family had its ups and downs. Like many Americans, we did well during the 1920s. My father started making lots of money in real estate, in addition to his other businesses. For a few years we were actually wealthy. But then came the Depression.
“No one who’s lived through it can ever forget. My father lost all his money, and we almost lost our house. I remember asking my sister, who was a couple of years older, whether we’d have to move out and how we’d find somewhere else to live. I was only six or seven at the time, but the anxiety I felt about the future is still vivid in my mind. Bad times are indelible—they stay with you forever.” (Lee Iacocca and William Novak, Iacocca: An Autobiography, New York: Bantam Books, 1984, p. 7.)

My mom came from a very religious family. They went to church together. They did a lot of fun things together. I loved to hear her talk about when she was a child. I would pretend that I had been a child then too. It must have hurt her a lot to live with a man who got drunk.
She was ashamed of his drinking. She told me over and over not to tell anyone. “It’s a secret,” she’d say.
I loved her. I kept her secret. But it was lonely. I thought I was the only young person in the Church who had this kind of home.
What a relief it would have been for me to share the burden, to know that I was not alone.

Secrets
Don’t pry into your friend’s family life, but if she wants to talk, let her share her pain without interruptions or advice.
Comments such as “That must hurt a lot” or “That must have been very embarrassing” will tell her you’re really listening.
You’re not there to judge her or her dad. You’re not there to tell her how to act or feel. You’re not there to solve her problem. You’re there to listen and to care.

Secrets
It’s hard to talk about alcoholism, but it’s even harder to bear your burden all alone.
The Church has counselors who will talk with you. Your bishop can help you reach them. They will keep everything you tell them confidential.
Alcoholics Anonymous has a group for young people who live with alcoholic adults.
Or you may want to talk to a trusted friend—perhaps your bishop or a teacher.

At sacrament meeting I watched other families sit together. I watched them smile at each other. I wanted my dad to be there. I wanted our family to sit together.
But he never came to church. He said they didn’t like him because he drank beer. My ward had parties for fathers and their children. I helped plan these parties. I never got to go to them.
On Father’s Day our ward gave rosebuds to all the fathers. I helped pick every rosebud in our garden. My dad didn’t come to the meeting.
I hated it when they talked about temple marriage at church. I hated hearing my family was different. I knew as long as my father drank we could not go to the temple. I loved my mother. I loved my dad. I wanted to be with them forever. It’s very difficult to sit in class when they are teaching about the temple.
I just kept going to church. I decided I would not drink. I decided I would be married in the temple.
I’m an adult now, and I definitely don’t drink. I have been married in the temple, and I’m happy that my children are sealed to me.
Left Out
Even Church meetings and activities can be painful for your friend.
If you see her sitting alone, ask her to sit with your family.
Ask her to join you and your dad at the daddy-daughter dance or find a “substitute dad” for her.
Lessons on temple marriage can be very sad for someone who sees no hope of ever being sealed to her parents. Be sensitive to this.
If the fathers at church get a boutonniere, offer her one to take home to her dad.

Left Out
Sitting alone in church is no fun.
Lessons on temple marriage hurt.
Father-daughter activities are painful.
But remember that we are all brothers and sisters, and there are many kind and loving people in your ward who would like to be your friend. Reach out to them and let them reach out to you.
Also, you can resolve that you will marry in the temple and be active.
In the meanwhile, invite your father to take part. Assure him that perfection is not a prerequisite for Church activity.

I was afraid a lot.
I was afraid my dad would kill himself while driving drunk. I was afraid he’d kill someone else when he was driving drunk.
Late at night I would lie in my bed with all the lights out. I would wait and wait to hear his car pull in. I’d pray over and over, “Please help him get home safely. Please don’t let him hit anyone.”
In the morning I’d look at how the car was parked in the driveway. Sometimes it would be barely an inch from the house. Sometimes it would be over into the neighbor’s flowers.
I was afraid he’d embarrass me. He did. He’d wake up from sleeping off a drunk and not really be sober. He’d stumble out of the bedroom. He’d stink of beer. He’d say dumb things. I hated it.
My real friends still liked me. Still, it was embarrassing.
I was afraid my parents would get a divorce. Many times they would have fights when my dad drank. He had a black leather suitcase in his closet. He’d get it out and start packing his clothes. If it were daytime I’d run out of the house. One day I took my dad’s white pocketknife with me. I wanted to have something of his if he left.
Sometimes I was afraid my parents would not get a divorce. I was afraid they would keep living together and I would never have a home that was nice. I thought my mother and I could go live with my grandparents. It sounded so safe.
Fear
Your friend may worry that her dad will get into an accident while driving drunk.
She may be afraid her parents will divorce. Or she may be equally afraid this painful way of living will go on forever.
She fears that her dad may embarrass her with inappropriate behavior.
She’s afraid no one will like her because of her father’s actions.
Of these fears only the last one is within your control. Make very sure your friend knows that you love and respect her. Your friendship can help reduce the corrosive effects of all the other fears.
Fear
Your life is full of fears—fear of a drunken accident, fear of divorce, fear of humiliation—the list seems endless.
I wish I could give you an easy formula for banishing fear, but I can’t. For one thing, many of your fears are well grounded.
I can only give you two bits of advice. First, when you are afraid, pray. Our Father in Heaven knows your fears and can help you master them.
Second, let some trusted adult counselor help you distinguish between real dangers and imaginary ones. With so many real things to fear, there is no room for phantoms.
The movies and television show handsome men and beautiful women drinking. These people do clever and funny things.
My dad didn’t do clever things. He did disgusting things. He would wet the bed. I would have to strip off the sheets and blankets. Then it was my job to turn over that big, blue, wet mattress. I would grab hold for all I was worth. I pulled. I pushed. It would spring back at me. The wet smelly thing would be in my face.
He threw up. He threw up and then threw up some more. My bedroom was next to the bathroom. I would bury my head in my pillow. I didn’t like that sickening smell.
Sometimes my dad would walk around without clothes on when he was drunk.
He never hit me when he was drunk. But lots of people do get mean when they drink. They hit their children and abuse their families.
Now I’m an adult I can forgive him. I know now that alcoholism requires treatment. He did the best he could do without help. But I didn’t forgive him while we were living in the same house.
Shame and Anger
Drunk people do disgusting things. They may even abuse their children.
Your friend will be both shamed and angered by these actions. And she may feel guilty about her anger. Let her know that she has a right to be angry.
Just help her channel that anger so it doesn’t cause her serious trouble.
Shame and Anger
If you sometimes feel angry at your dad and embarrassed to be his child, don’t feel guilty about it. It’s okay to feel angry. Anyone in your circumstances would feel that way.
And if you haven’t been able to forgive him, keep trying, but don’t feel guilty about that either.
Forgiving is not an easy virtue to master, and nobody’s holding a stopwatch on you.
It was Christmas Eve. I sat by our tree. I remember the sparkling icicles and the glowing red and white lights. I was sad my dad wasn’t home. He was drinking at some bar.
It’s not the way I wanted Christmas to be.
Drinking ruined birthdays. It ruined Thanksgiving. It ruined New Year’s and Easter and other days.
Holidays were often the saddest, loneliest, most painful times of the year. On those days the contrast was sharp and bitter between how life could and should be and how it really was.
Merry Christmas
Holidays are hard for your friend, so don’t forget her. Have her over to your house. If it would not offend her parents, you might invite her to spend the holiday with your family. And always remember her birthday.
Merry Christmas
Work with your mother to make holidays as happy as possible for your brothers and sisters. The real joy of every holiday comes from serving.
Also, if your friends want to brighten their own season by serving you, let them.
Most people do the best they can.
I believe my dad did his best. Maybe he could have done better if he had joined Alcoholics Anonymous. Perhaps a hospital for alcoholics might have helped. Maybe going to a counselor would have helped. But he didn’t get help.
Living with him was very difficult. Living with him was disgusting sometimes. Living with him was embarrassing sometimes. Living with him was sad many times.
Sometimes I was ashamed of him. Sometimes I was scared of him.
Other times I felt angry when our Mormon neighbors didn’t seem to like him. I knew he was a good person when he was sober. Why couldn’t other people see it?
One of my children asked me what I did for fun when I was a child. Initially I didn’t have an answer. Of course, I had some good times. But the strongest memories all involve alcohol.
Alcohol steals childhood. Instead of a parade of carefree days, there is premature responsibility. Instead of happiness, there is anger and fear and guilt. Instead of openness and trust there is secrecy. Often there is estrangement from the Church.
But I survived, and others can too, if we all help. I hope we will.
What Now?
Your friend lives in a different world—a world full of well-founded fears, a world where nothing is simple.
The same person she loves causes her great pain.
If you genuinely like her, show it, but please don’t take her on as a two-month project and then drop her. She has enough reasons to distrust people without that.
Respect her and respect the confidentiality of anything she tells you.
You can’t eliminate her pain. You can’t force a change in her home.
What you can do is care about her. You can understand, accept, help, support, encourage, and love her.
You can help her feel her Heavenly Father’s love.
What Now?
Your biggest job now is to take care of yourself. Remember that you are not alone. Our Father in Heaven knows and loves you perfectly. You have not shed a tear or prayed a prayer that he is not aware of. He wants things to be better for you.
He will give you inspiration and comfort.
He will send teachers and leaders and friends to help you. Accept their help and their love.
Don’t be too hard on yourself. You don’t have to be perfect by tomorrow.
You’ve got a lifetime ahead of you, and it will get easier.
You can make it. It’s not easy, but I know you can do it.
Don’t ever give up.

And, as Michael and Debbie have found, they experience tremendous revelatory moments and attendant blessings when they are working on the Lord’s temples.

“We needed some bigger stencils for a temple we were working on, but since we didn’t know anybody in that particular city we just went to the internet and found two or three stencil suppliers.” Debbie said. “We felt drawn to one in particular, but it was 11 o’clock at night and we needed these stencils as soon as we could get them. We couldn’t find their trading hours on the website but out of the blue the impression came to me, “Why don’t you just call them?”

“We discussed that if we did that maybe their answering machine would give us their hours,” Debbie continued. “So, I called the number and the owner of the business answered.”

He was at the office that night because of some problems his own people were having with a project they were working on. Later, when Michael and Debbie went in to pick up their new stencils, the man told them it was very unusual for him to be at the office at that time of night.

“He said he had to come in to recut all the stencils for his own project and that he was going to be there until two or three in the morning. That had never happened before,” Debbie said. “But Mike had been fasting and praying all day about this, and we believe the Lord led us to the business that could help us complete what we were working on.”

“We’re so grateful for moments like these.”

Also let us remember that through any illness or difficult challenge, there is still much in life to be hopeful about and grateful for. We are infinitely more than our limitations or our afflictions! Stephanie Clark Nielson and her family have been our friends for more than 30 years. On August 16, 2008, Stephanie and her husband, Christian, were in a plane crash and subsequent fire that scarred her so horrifically that only her painted toenails were recognizable when family members came to indentify the victims. There was almost no chance Stephanie could live. After three months in a sleep-induced coma, she awoke to see herself. With that, the psyche-scarring and horrendous depression came. Having four children under the age of seven, Stephanie did not want them to see her ever again. She felt it would be better not to live. “I thought it would be easier,” Stephanie once told me in my office, “if they just forgot about me and I quietly slipped out of their life.”

But to her eternal credit, and with the prayers of her husband, family, friends, four beautiful children, and a fifth born to the Nielsons just 18 months ago, Stephanie fought her way back from the abyss of self-destruction to be one of the most popular “mommy bloggers” in the nation, openly declaring to the four million who follow her blog that her “divine purpose” in life is to be a mom and to cherish every day she has been given on this beautiful earth.

It was in a sacrament meeting that I came to better appreciate the power of a mother’s teaching. A young returned missionary, Clint Jordan, was telling us about his mission and of the variety of experiences he had had in sharing the gospel.
But then he said something that made me more than just a casual listener. “I really wouldn’t have had any of these experiences,” he said, “if my mother hadn’t taught me the real value of prayer.”
He continued, “I can still hear my mother’s voice telling me over and over again, ‘Clint, there’s no reason to be afraid. Whenever you are alone or you begin to feel afraid, remember that your Heavenly Father is always with you.’”
Gathering my children together after the meeting, I could still feel the power of that testimony. A mother’s example, and the example of her son, gave me greater resolve to instill that same understanding of prayer in the hearts of my small children.

Joseph William Billy Johnson is one of those people. He has been a member of the Church from its beginnings in Ghana.
In 1964 an associate gave him a copy of the Book of Mormon and some Church tracts that had been sent from Europe. When he read a tract containing the testimony of Joseph Smith, he recalls, “I was inspired,” and when he read the Book of Mormon, “I knew it was true.” He began to preach the gospel truths he had learned. He wrote to Church headquarters, and President David O. McKay encouraged him to continue studying the scriptures and to be patient and faithful until missionaries could be sent to Africa.
Billy Johnson persevered for 14 years despite persecution. He built congregations to whom he taught the gospel doctrine he found in Church books. As nearly as he knew how, he tried to direct his congregations according to Church practices, yet he understood that he did not have authority to perform its ordinances.
Often he felt directed by the Spirit; he was sustained at times by visions and dreams. His son was named after Brigham Young because of a dream in which that former President of the Church offered encouragement. Brother Johnson learned about salvation for the dead after deceased relatives appeared to him in dreams and asked him to be sure they would have the opportunity to receive baptism by proxy.
“I drew inspiration from the pioneers,” he says. Reading of their struggles to build a haven in the western United States where they could worship in peace, he longed for the day when it might be possible to enjoy this same blessing in Ghana.
When Latter-day Saint missionaries arrived in 1978, after the revelation extending the priesthood to all worthy male members, hundreds of Ghanaians he had prepared were ready to be taught and baptized.
Despite the hardships he endured, Brother Johnson, now patriarch of the Cape Coast Ghana Stake, rejoices at the opportunity he had during all those years to help prepare others for the gospel. “Whenever I see in conferences the number of people who have been baptized into the Church, I start weeping for joy at the great work the Lord has done.”

After he left school, Géoffroy kept working hard. Soon he had a farm of his own.
Then one day he saw a friend who was a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. His friend gave him a Book of Mormon. Géoffroy read the Book of Mormon and prayed. He felt warm and peaceful inside and knew for sure that the Church is true.
He already knew what to do next. He worked, prayed, and relied on God. First he got baptized. Then he shared his testimony with those around him. Some of his friends got baptized too. What started as a small group of members soon grew into a branch. He was helping the Church grow in Benin!