Gospel Story Finder

I was standing in line with my mom to pay for our groceries. The line was crowded, so my mom had to bend over this little boy in front of us to buy our things. The little boy started to kick her. The second time he kicked her, she backed away and said, “Will you please stop kicking?”
The boy’s mom turned around and told my mom it was her fault she got kicked. She said all sorts of insulting things to us. I started to glare at her as she turned back around and was rude to the cashier too! I acted calm, but inside I was angry. It bugged me. I knew that what happened wasn’t my mom’s fault or mine, but I still felt hurt.
When we got home, I went to my room and pulled out my scriptures. After reading for a minute, I felt a need to pray. I hardly felt in the mood, but I knelt down and started to pray. Eventually, I found myself praying for this woman who had treated us so awfully. The calmest feeling I’ve ever felt settled all over me. I couldn’t find room in my heart to be angry at her anymore. I felt love.
Teresa G., Idaho, USA

I grew up in a city near Seattle, Washington, and was not a member of the Church. When I was 11, I joined a local ballroom dance team that several of my friends were on. The team had started as a youth activity for Latter-day Saints, but it was so popular the instructors kept it going. I didn’t know much about the Church, but the instructors and other youth were so welcoming that I didn’t care.
My friends invited me to Mutual activities and weekend Church dances. I began to notice something interesting about them: they were always smiling. They were positive, encouraging, and enthusiastic about any opportunity that arose. They had joy that I had never felt.
I wanted to know what made them so happy. During six years of careful observation I learned some interesting things. My friends jumped at the opportunity to help and serve those around them. They never judged their peers for the way they looked, talked, or acted—they accepted everyone. My friends believed in speaking cleanly, acting appropriately, and dressing modestly. They valued their parents and siblings as the most important people in their lives. And most important, my friends had firm testimonies of Jesus Christ that strengthened them in difficult times.
After high school graduation, I said good-bye to these friends and started college in New York City. It took only two weeks for me to desperately miss what I now know was the Spirit I felt at Church activities and dance classes with my friends. I looked up the closest ward on LDS.org and then walked to the meetinghouse the following Sunday. I met the missionaries and began learning from them.
When the missionaries taught me about Joseph Smith, I knew instantly through the Spirit that his experience was true. Then, when they explained Jesus Christ’s sacrifice and how He atoned for us, my heart was filled with gratitude for my Savior and His love for me. Six weeks later, I was baptized and confirmed a member of the Church.
I owe my introduction to the Church to my friends who were so kind and welcoming. They didn’t allow their standards to slip when pressure was strong or their decisions were unpopular. Their testimonies were firm and unwavering. They held true to their faith and showed me what it meant to truly live the gospel of Jesus Christ.
I know the importance of always living my standards. Both members and nonmembers need strong examples of friends who refuse to lower their standards. Even when I think no one is paying attention, I will try to never waver. You never know who is looking at your example.

In my experience I recall a very significant lesson. I learned it as a home teacher.
Shortly before I was married I was assigned with an older companion to serve as home teacher to an aged little lady who was a shut-in. She was a semi-invalid, and often when we knocked on the door she would call us to come in. We would find her unable to be about and would leave our message at her bedside.
We somehow learned that she was very partial to lemon ice cream. Frequently we would stop at the ice cream store before making our visit. Because we knew her favorite flavor, there were two reasons we were welcome to that home.
On one occasion the senior companion was not able to go, for reasons that I do not remember. I went alone and followed the ritual of getting a half-pint of lemon ice cream before making the call.
I found her in bed. She expressed great worry over a grandchild who was to undergo a very serious operation the following day. She asked if I would kneel at the side of her bed and offer a prayer for the well-being of the youngster.
After the prayer, thinking of my coming marriage, I suppose, she said, “Tonight I will teach you.” She said she wanted to tell me something and that I was always to remember it. Then began the lesson I have never forgotten. She recounted something of her life.
A few years after her marriage to a fine young man in the temple, when they were concentrating on the activities of young married life and raising a family, one day a letter came from “Box B.” (In those days a letter from “Box B” in Salt Lake City was invariably a mission call.)
To their surprise they were called as a family to go to one of the far continents of the world to help open the land for missionary work. They served faithfully and well, and after several years they returned to their home, to set about again the responsibilities of raising their family.
Then this little woman focused in on a Monday morning. It could perhaps be called a blue washday Monday. There had been some irritation and a disagreement. Then some biting words between husband and wife. Interestingly enough, she couldn’t remember how it all started or what it was over. “But,” she said, “nothing would do but that I follow him to the gate, and as he walked up the street on his way to work I just had to call that last biting, spiteful remark after him.”
Then, as the tears began to flow, she told me of an accident that took place that day, and he never returned. “For fifty years,” she sobbed, “I’ve lived in hell knowing that the last words he heard from my lips were that biting, spiteful remark.”
This was the message to her young home teacher. She pressed it upon me with the responsibility never to forget it. I have profited greatly from it. I have come to know since that time that a couple can live together without one cross word ever passing between them.
I have often wondered about those visits to that home, about the time I spent and the few cents we spent on ice cream. That little sister is long since gone beyond the veil. This is true also of my senior companion. But the powerful experience of that home teaching, the home teacher being taught, is with me yet, and I have found occasion to leave her message with young couples at the marriage altar and in counseling people across the world.
There is a spiritual genius in priesthood home teaching. Every priesthood holder who goes forth under this assignment can come away repaid a thousandfold.
I have heard men say in response to a question about their Church assignment, “I am only a home teacher.”
Only a home teacher. Only the guardian of a flock. Only the one appointed where the ministry matters most. Only a servant of the Lord!

Kris Fisher is well known in Toronto, Ontario, as a world-class swimmer. But talk to Kris, and before you hear about flip turns and his time in the backstroke, you’ll likely hear about his brother, Tom.
Kris says, “Tom told me this,” or, “It’s like Tom always says.” He often quotes what his brother has said about life or swimming. But don’t misunderstand—Kris isn’t a parrot, and he doesn’t live in his brother’s shadow. Tom is, however, a powerful influence on Kris, a powerful influence for good.
Kris had started into some rough water. He was 16 years old and quickly becoming an internationally recognized swimmer. He ranked 50th in the world for his age group. He swam on the Canadian national youth team that competed in Sweden. He received a grant to help with the costs of swimming. Maybe those waters don’t sound too rough, but his success fueled his ego until it began to crowd out his dependence on serious swim practices, family support, and ultimately Heavenly Father.
“I got cocky,” Kris recalls, sitting on the steps of the Gorgas Library at the University of Alabama, where he now attends school. “I was getting swallowed up in pride instead of being humble and remembering what got me where I was.” His confidence led him to relax in his swimming practices and meets, and, even more dangerous, in his spiritual pursuits.
“The Church had become more of a once-a-week, just-on-Sunday thing,” Kris says. “I was going to church with my parents, but as soon as I left, it was like I stepped out of the Church world and stepped back into the regular world. The Church would just sort of slip out of my mind for the rest of the week.”
During this time, Tom was serving his mission in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Kris and Tom are the only children in their family and had both been competitive swimmers. They spent a lot of time together growing up, whether they were heading off at 5:00 A.M. for swim practice or just watching one of their favorite sci-fi television shows together. But with Tom leaving for college and then a mission, Kris, four years younger than Tom, got used to being alone.
Kris’s I-don’t-need-anyone’s-help attitude, however, began to take its toll. His swimming fell to a low, causing him to miss out on making other national teams or receiving additional grants. And the more frustrated he became with his performance in the pool, the more frustrated he became outside the pool. Arguments with his parents became part of the regular routine as they tried to counsel him; and the Church, though still a part of his Sundays, had become something he thought he would get serious about when he was older.
Through the letters Tom wrote home, Kris sees, looking back, that Tom understood what was at the root of Kris’s swimming frustrations. Tom wrote Kris letters about how he could improve—not his strokes or his time, but his testimony. He gave him advice about scripture study, prayer, and service. He also encouraged Kris to follow their parents’ counsel. Though both Tom and Kris understood the commitment needed to be a world-class swimmer, Tom had come to realize the more important commitment needed to be a valiant son of God—something Kris was still figuring out.
“It’s like the way Michelangelo described making a statue,” says Kris. “He said that the statue was already there [in the piece of stone] and he just cleared away the extra pieces. It was like that with Tom. He knew what was underneath my surface; he just helped clear away some of the rough edges.”
The rough edges didn’t chip off with the first pound of the chisel, though. Kris tried with half-hearted effort to implement some of Tom’s written advice, but he never really got into a daily routine of scripture study and prayer. So when Tom came home from his mission, Kris didn’t react very well to Tom’s missionary zeal.
For the first few weeks after Tom’s return, Kris didn’t want to hear Tom’s advice. “Tom had changed so much by being around the gospel 24 hours a day, seven days a week. I would just stand back when he tried to help me,” Kris recalls, grinning at his own stubbornness. Tom tried to get Kris to study daily and join in family prayer. He used analogies comparing swimming to the scriptures. He reminded Kris that he needed to put on the “whole armor of God.”
Kris remembers clearly when understanding finally clicked into place. “It always put me on the defensive [when he would talk to me about living the gospel] and I would think, ‘You’re used to all that. I’m not used to it. I haven’t been like that for a while.’ And then it just hit me. ‘I haven’t been like that for a while.’ Maybe there’s a reason things haven’t been going so well.”
Kris continues, “I was struggling and wasn’t going where I wanted to go. Then I finally realized that all Tom was doing was trying to help me, and I do need help from other people. There are other people out there who want to see me do well—my family and Heavenly Father want to see me achieve what I can achieve with their help. I changed my attitude—I’m not invincible. And when I made the gospel more of an everyday thing, all of a sudden it wasn’t just something I believed; it’s something I do and live.
“Tom helped me see that I wasn’t doing things in the gospel. I wasn’t training my spirit, and your spirit shrinks just like your body does if you don’t exercise it.”
Now that Kris has become converted through the help of his brother, he is continually strengthening those around him and helping them swim a smoother course—in and out of the pool. It is not uncommon to overhear Kris chatting about the gospel with his nonmember teammates on the University of Alabama swim team as they travel to meets. And he isn’t afraid to tell fellow students how they can make their lives better by living gospel principles.
“People can change a lot,” says Kris. “They can turn around and find out that all hope is not lost.”
Kris is no stranger to challenges, and he knows that others around him face the same things. But because of Tom’s help, he now knows that faith in Christ can calm even the stormiest seas.

As a young convert I sometimes felt uneasy with the members of my branch, and I had questions that went unanswered. But by reading and discussing articles in Le Liahona (French) with members of my branch, I got to know the members better. And I found answers to my questions through the magazine’s messages. I am truly grateful to Heavenly Father for inspiring me with the desire to study Le Liahona. I am happy to be a member of the Church and to read the testimonies of other members throughout the world.
Sandrine Hantala,Le Mans Branch, Tours France District

The choir leaders work with the region’s public affairs office in organizing places and times to sing. The choir is often included in public performances where the audience is not well acquainted with the Church. When asked about their most memorable performance, they immediately mention a Christmas program held at the local YMCA. Rachel Neifert of the Maryland Heights Ward says: “There were all kinds of choirs there. We sang, ‘This Is the Christ.’ Afterwards people were asking us, ‘What was that feeling?’ It was the best we have ever done. I didn’t know we could sound that good.”

“I think before every performance at least one person says, ‘Let’s try and make this like the YMCA performance.’ That was the most spiritual experience,” adds Carolyn Rees of the Spencer Creek Ward.

We help ourselves as we help each other. A family I know lived near a busy road. Travelers often stopped to ask for help. Early one morning the family heard loud pounding on their door. Tired and worried who it would be at 2:00 a.m., they wondered if, just this once, someone else could help. As the insistent knocking continued, they heard, “Fire—there’s a fire in the back of your house!” Good Samaritans help each other.

Let me give you an example. Recently I asked Elder William W. Parmley about his memories of his mother, LaVern Parmley, who served as the Primary general president for 23 years. He didn’t refer to her talks at conferences or the many programs she implemented. He spoke of one of his sweetest moments when he was 17 and preparing to go away to college. He remembered sitting with his mother as she taught him how to sew on a button. With children of all ages, small and simple acts have lasting impact.

When Elder Nathaniel Johnson completed his full-time mission, he reflected on the prior two years—the work he did, the people he blessed, and the way he had grown. He was assigned to serve in one of 124 bishops’ storehouses operated by the Church worldwide. He unloaded trucks, stocked shelves, and kept the storehouse clean.
For him, the most meaningful experiences were helping patrons fill orders for sorely needed food and commodities. He said, “I was basically bringing the light of Christ into other people’s lives so they could know they are part of Heavenly Father’s plan.”
On hectic days during the COVID-19 pandemic, patrons lined up around the block and the storehouse was open for 10 hours a day. “I learned that when the Lord is with us, we’ll be able to do anything and get through any challenge,”1 he observed.

When you meet Chris Jones, the first thing you’ll notice is how quick he is to smile.
And the second thing—which follows almost immediately—is how quickly he begins to treat you like a good friend.
As Chris’s new friend, you’ll be talking football—because Chris has been a football player since the age of seven—but you can’t help noticing that his conversation is full of references to the gospel. It soon becomes clear that he loves the Lord and the Church with all his heart.
Even though Chris has been home from serving in the Oregon Portland Mission for a couple of years, he still has the sure handshake of a missionary. A mission is something he had been planning for his whole life. And his missionary spirit certainly did not get left in the mission field when he returned.
Chris is from St. Mary’s, Georgia. His parents, Artie and Carolyn Jones, met the missionaries in 1978, when Chris was only two. Chris said, “The first time my dad went to church, he saw a lot of people that he recognized in the community that respected him. That was one thing he really noticed.”
The Jones family was baptized and, as Chris has been told, they received a lot of ridicule for joining the Church. When Chris looks back, he is so appreciative of the fact that his parents were able to raise him and his two brothers and one sister in a way consistent with the principles of the gospel. And Chris grew up knowing that someday he would serve a mission. “If it is part of the Church and the Church is true, then I’ll do it.”
In fact, Chris says his mother helped him keep that in mind. “My mom was the one that pulled us out of bed at 5:15 in the morning to go to seminary for four years. It was a struggle. I hated getting up at 5:15. But it was through a combination of my mother and going to seminary that I gained a testimony of the gospel. Up until then, I always knew the gospel was right. I just didn’t know why it was right.”
As Chris gained a testimony, he found that living the gospel principles helped him learn about prayer. “I can’t recall a prayer that I’ve never received an answer to. Receiving an answer is a matter of allowing the Lord to answer you and give you His answer. A lot of times if you pray with your own answer in mind, you look for that answer. If another answer comes, then you’re not ready to receive it.”
Chris loved playing football in grade school and junior high. He started at linebacker all during high school. And, as Chris points out, football in Georgia is serious business. His high school would have 10,000 fans attend its Friday night games. During his junior year, he began getting attention from college scouts. It was exciting, but his mom would remind him not to get too interested because he was going on a mission.
When the scouts showed up, that was the time Chris had to face the possibilities of playing football at the college level. His high school coach told the scouts that he was a hard-working player and was an honor student. Finally concrete offers started to come—full-ride scholarships through four years of college, worth thousands of dollars.
“I asked,” said Chris, “if they would hold a scholarship for two years. One coach was shocked. I told him I was going to go on a mission for my church. He just stared at me and said, ‘You’re going to give up 80 thousand dollars to serve a mission for two years?’ He got mad at me. But I didn’t get offended.” After that, his coach started turning away college recruiters interested in Chris.
Eventually, State University of West Georgia called. The school offered him a scholarship. It turned out that Chris would be able to play a year and a quarter, essentially two seasons, before turning 19 and receiving a mission call. “I knew that all things were possible with the Lord. There were people saying that I couldn’t serve a mission and play ball, yet the Lord provided a way to do both.”
Chris struggled at West Georgia, not on the field where he started as a true freshman but in the permissive atmosphere in the dorms. He didn’t like what was going on around him. He was more determined than ever to go on a mission. And it was on his mission that Chris put football behind him completely. He told his coaches that if they needed to talk to him, to go through his parents. He didn’t keep up on what the team was doing. He says that the only way to serve on a mission is completely and with total focus.
At the conclusion of his mission, Chris decided that he could not return to the atmosphere at his former college. He thought that was also a decision to give up football, and he was willing to do it.
Just as Chris was completing his mission, his mission president contacted BYU about Chris. At first, becoming a BYU football team member didn’t seem like a possibility, but he was invited to try out. He received a full-ride scholarship but was redshirted a year. Once Chris thought sitting out a year would be horrible, but now it was a blessing. He was able to concentrate on his major, a difficult one, in manufacturing engineering and technology. He feels that the Lord has guided his life because at BYU he has had the opportunity to continue missionary work as a ward mission leader. Football will fall by the wayside. That’s fine with Chris. It no longer has his heart.
There is, however, one thing Chris has always wanted—a championship ring. He just missed taking state in high school. And his college team won the conference the year he left on his mission. Knowing this, some friends on his mission got together and bought Chris a ring—a CTR ring that he wears continually. It’s become his championship ring.
Whenever Chris looks at it he is reminded of what he believes deep inside. “Right makes you happy. If you do what is right, everything will fall into place.”

Another challenge came several years ago when my husband and I divorced. This came as a shock to me. I didn’t know how to react. I thought I had a perfect little family. I was also going to dental school at the time. I left school to focus on my children. I feel that this was the best choice. I don’t regret it at all. But I had a lot of anger. How does someone just leave a marriage and four amazing children?
I was also terrified about what was going to happen to me and my kids. I cried and felt a sense of panic, wondering if they were still sealed to me. I talked to my bishop, and he said that Heavenly Father has promised that we are sealed for all eternity, but our agency will determine if we will be together forever. It gave me such relief to know that my kids were still sealed to me.
But I still felt anger and felt that I was not worthy to go to the temple. How can you go to the temple with so much anger? I also didn’t want to go to the temple because I am divorced. I felt like I didn’t deserve it because I was supposed to be in a marriage still.
I talked with my bishop again, and he told me that Satan doesn’t want me to go back to the temple. He wants to make me miserable and to feel that I’m not worthy. It was amazing when I entered the temple again. Going to the temple makes me feel better and stronger. Knowing that Heavenly Father is helping me be a mom, that I’m not alone, and that He is never going to abandon me or my family gives me so much strength. Now I make sure that my temple recommend is always current.
“I know I just need to keep moving forward and get closer to Heavenly Father each day. This is the way I’m going to be with my children forever.”
Even though their dad is not in the picture, I always tell my kids that I am here for them. We’re going to church, we’re doing our scripture study, and we’re praying. We have an understanding of how important family is and that we need to forgive each other, support each other, and cheer each other on.
People have asked me what I would do if I had an extra hour each day. Would I sleep? Would I eat? What would I do? I would have 15 minutes of quality time with each of my children.
I love my children so much that in spite of the great heartache from the relationship with their father, it was worth it to have them. That’s how much they mean to me. I have hilarious, amazing, and kind-hearted children. Even with their struggles, they always think of ways to help others.
Making sure our faith is strong keeps us going as a family. If we do our part, the Lord comes through on His blessings and promises. That’s something that I live by, and I am very blessed.

As a missionary in Chile, I learned that investigators’ conversion is greatly helped by the involvement of ward members. My companions and I found out quickly that ward members were essential in reactivation and in keeping recent converts active.
In one area, we had been working with a family for many months. They had once been very strong in the Church but had fallen away from activity. The family didn’t feel as though the ward members cared whether or not they attended Church or other activities. As missionaries, we struggled to get the members excited about reactivation. They were unwilling to do even simple things like ask the family to sit with them at church, visit them, or invite them to activities.
In another area, however, the ward members seemed as excited about missionary work as the missionaries. The members were so involved and were always willing to help us find and keep investigators. After the members met our investigators, they practically took over. They invited the investigators or less-active members to every activity and offered to pick them up for church. Many times investigators would tell us how welcome they felt and how they didn’t feel like just another number because the members took such a personal interest in them.
I learned how important it is that bonds of fellowship in the gospel be formed between ward members. As missionaries, we come and go. But the association with ward members lasts much longer.

During the January 2017 worldwide devotional for young adults, I challenged those watching to increase their testimony of the Savior by taking time each week to:
Study everything Jesus said and did as recorded in the Old Testament.
Study His laws as recorded in the New Testament.
Study His doctrine as recorded in the Book of Mormon.
Study His words as recorded in the Doctrine and Covenants.
I promised those listening that if they would proceed to learn all they can about Jesus Christ, their love for Him and for God’s laws would grow beyond what they could currently imagine.
What I didn’t mention during this address was that I knew this promise was true because I was in the midst of completing this very same assignment myself for the first time.
On December 1, 2016, I obtained a new set of scriptures and proceeded to begin the same assignment that I would later extend to young adults in January. When I finished the assignment six weeks later, I had looked up and marked more than 2,200 citations from the four books of scripture.1
For me, to be able to accomplish this assignment was just thrilling!
Something I found to be most insightful was that the Savior was telling us about Himself through these various periods of time—Old Testament, New Testament, the Restoration period, and our day. In all books of scripture, the story is the same and the Storyteller is the same.
I have devoted much of my 93 years to learning about the Savior, but rare are the occasions when I have been able to learn as much as I did over this six-week study period. In fact, I learned so much about Him from this study that I am planning to share much of it in other upcoming addresses that I am currently preparing.2
Upon beginning this assignment, I didn’t expect that this study would help me to receive a new testimony of the divinity of the work of Joseph Smith—but it did! The revelations recorded by Joseph Smith and the insights found in the Bible are amazingly consistent. It was so enlightening for me to see this in my study.
Joseph Smith wouldn’t have possibly had time to correlate and cross-reference with the Bible at the rapid rate at which he was translating the Book of Mormon—but it’s all here!
So not only do I now have a greater testimony of the Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, but I also have a reaffirmation of my absolute conviction that the system Joseph Smith had for translating the Book of Mormon was a gift from God.
Now, I realize some of you are probably thinking to yourselves that you couldn’t possibly have time to complete an assignment like this.
I know how you feel. I thought the same thing of myself—that there’s no way I can have time to do all of this. I needed to remind myself that a comment like this is not a faith-promoted comment. A faith-promoted comment would be “I know I don’t have time for this, but I’m going to make time for it. And I’ll fulfill it with what time I have.”
Each of us who takes this challenge will finish in our own time frames. For me, much of the joy of this came from getting it all done in just six weeks. This intense study over a relatively short period of time allowed me to appreciate the complementary nature of the learnings to be found in the Old Testament, the Book of Mormon, the New Testament, and the Doctrine and Covenants.
To those of you who feel you don’t have time, if you will make a sacrifice, you will be well rewarded and very, very grateful for the change of perspective, increased knowledge, and improved depth of your conversion. I know this is true because I have seen the same rewards in my own life.
As I mentioned at the devotional, in a coming day, you will present yourself before the Savior. You will be overwhelmed to the point of tears to be in His holy presence. You will struggle to find words to thank Him for paying for your sins, for forgiving you of any unkindness toward others, for healing you from the injuries and injustices of this life.
You will thank Him for strengthening you to do the impossible, for turning your weaknesses into strengths, and for making it possible for you to live with Him and your family forever. His identity, His Atonement, and His attributes will become personal and real to you.
But you don’t have to wait until then. Choose to be one of His true disciples now. Be one who truly loves Him, who truly wants to serve and lead as He did. I promise you that if you will study His words, your ability to be more like Him will increase. I know this is true.

I just have to thank you for the New Era. It really brightens my day. Just recently I read one through from cover to cover and then lent it to a girl friend. She quickly devoured every word, and then I took it to my place of employment—the Jackson Hole Playhouse Theater—where it was passed around one evening. One of the guys in the cast “adopted” it, and I haven’t seen it since! I am an investigator of the Church, and I can’t express in words how much the New Era has helped me in my studies. In fact, you may wish to know that I plan to be baptized.
Cindy ShufeldtJackson, Wyoming

When I was 11, my family moved to West Germany. My father and my mother ran a laundry to make a living, and I was the laundry delivery boy. I saw some shiny red bicycles, and I wished I could have one to make my deliveries. But I needed a heavy-duty bicycle to pull the cart with the laundry on it. I rode around pulling that heavy laundry cart before school and after school. It was hard seeing the other children play. But everyone in our family had to work hard, and I was an important part of the family business.
As I grew older, I learned about the blessings of doing things that at the time you don’t realize are important and good for you. When I was very little, I came down with a lung disease, but no one knew it at the time. When I grew older, I joined the air force. The doctors saw spots on my lungs. Because of the hard work of pedaling that heavy load, somehow my body had healed itself. I had built up endurance. I had built up strength. The doctors said that the disease took care of itself and that I passed my physical. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to become a pilot.
As a pilot, I flew all over the world. I never tired of looking at the stars, the clouds, the landscapes. I saw the beauty of the different countries with their different cultures. I know from going to those places and seeing the people and seeing the Church in those different places that the gospel is for everyone, no matter what nation you live in or what your traditions are. It is the gospel of Jesus Christ. The word of God—whether it is written in the scriptures or spoken by the living prophets, whether we read it in Church magazines or hear it at general conferences—is for everyone.

I always knew God cared about us, but I never realized how much He cares. It took a long day in Mexico for me to even begin to fathom how intricate His designs are.
My family rose on a Saturday morning, so early that the San Diego, California, sky had only just begun to turn the soft gray of predawn June. We packed into the car, all eight of us squashing into every available seatbelt of our van.
Our group—a collection of stake leaders, high councilors, and their families—met up at the church, forming a caravan of nine cars. President Heap had included Project Mercy in the stake calendars with good reason. An isolated Tijuana community needed volunteers to help build houses for their families, and who among us couldn’t spare a single Saturday?
The 20-mile (32-km) drive from San Diego to Mexico passed quickly. In the streets of Tijuana, my first impression was that no one cared about these neighborhoods. Surely, no one looked very hard at them, if they even admitted to seeing them at all.
We reached our destination on the outskirts of Tijuana soon after the sun began rising to greet us. All around we saw clusters of families. Their clothes were worn. Many had no shoes. Dogs trotted through the grounds, unclaimed and uncared for. Each family was delighted at our arrival: today they might have a home.
Our supplies were simple, our directions simpler still. Laborers had poured concrete foundations a month ago. Planks of plywood lay neatly stacked to one side of the road. Build four walls; add a roof; paint the finished handiwork of last week’s volunteers. And so we did, bursting into activity. The men immediately pulled on gloves and strapped on tool belts. The women handed out paintbrushes, mixing bright, fresh colors into large paint buckets.
The sun broke over us glaringly. Each and every one of us broke into a hard sweat before the second hour was up, but at the end of the day we left two families with freshly painted houses, and one with a new home altogether. It was still unpainted, but I could see that it didn’t matter to the father. He looked past the rough surfaces to the stable walls.
This last family transformed my day’s labor into joy. President Heap asked to say a blessing over their new home, and they allowed it. We all clustered into its one common room, the father standing beside President Heap. Brother Woods, still fluent from a Spanish-speaking mission, offered words I couldn’t understand, but which rolled through the house and left peace in their wake. The family bowed their heads with us in gratitude. The father cried.
After the prayer, we gathered into the cars and reversed down a narrow lane, into a wide, flat area before we could turn and pull onto the road’s shoulder. My family, last in the caravan, took the most time in this procedure, our van being the largest car in the group. I reflected back on all I had seen, now mindful of the stability of my own life. I had full access to the “necessities.” These families gained them in gradual, lurching steps, always according to the schedules of helpful strangers.
The day left us tired and satisfied, but with one regret: no one had thought to bring a Book of Mormon.
With all the men and women who had come, I wondered how we could have forgotten this single item. Finally our van was turned around, rolling into place on the road. No others from our group left. A hand pointed out an open window, over the tracts of desert.
Hiking across the road, 30 feet behind us, were two missionaries.
President Heap stepped out of his car and waved the missionaries over. They spoke for a few brief minutes, before President Heap pointed them on, smiling, toward the home we had left only minutes ago.
Even though none of us had thought to bring a Book of Mormon for that family, Someone else had thought to provide one.
I recalled my first impression of this place and realized how wrong I had been. Someone had seen this neglected community. Someone had cared.
When we had forgotten, He had remembered.

Back when COVID-19 hit Brazil, I started playing computer games with my friends between online classes. Initially, I played for one hour a day, but that eventually turned into 10 hours a day. This continued for days and months.
I used my father’s work computer for gaming, even though it wasn’t supposed to be used for that. My parents thought I was in class or studying. Even though I was with friends online, being alone on the computer made me feel isolated, tired, and less happy.
One day during class, a classmate called. We realized we had played all 100 games I had, and we wanted something new. But my father’s work computer had limited memory. When I tried to install a new game, the computer crashed.
I panicked. I was afraid my parents would find out. I took apart the computer piece by piece but didn’t see any problems, so I put everything back in place and tried turning it on. I knew I needed to clean the computer, so I spent hours uninstalling game after game—but nothing changed.
Later that day, my dad needed to do some work on his computer. I was really nervous. After a while, he called me over. There was the computer in front of him. Broken.
I couldn’t lie to my dad anymore. I confessed what I did.
The next day, my dad went to work with the broken computer. Instead of blaming me, he took responsibility for what I did. None of it was his fault, but he chose to lose credibility with his boss and take all the blame without me even asking him to. And that broke my heart.
I was so ashamed about what I had done that I started to struggle mentally. I didn’t want to wake up. I didn’t have the courage to talk to my parents.
But that Saturday, my father woke me up around 4:30 a.m., inviting me to go on a run. On the run, he said he had asked me to go with him so I could learn something he never wanted me to forget: resilience. He told me that resilience was the capacity to withstand or recover quickly from difficulties, to resolve the problem, and after resolving it, to stand up and keep going forward.
Because of my dad’s example at work and what he taught me about resilience, I had a glimpse of who Jesus Christ is and what He did for me. Christ gave me the opportunity to be forgiven for my sins. I learned that forgiveness is a gift and that the Savior’s expectation of me is to be resilient in the path of righteousness.
After that run, I started changing my mindset and habits. I realized that there is much more to life than playing games all day.
The next three years were challenging as I worked on my new habits, but with my parents’ help, I gradually started focusing on my future. I also discovered that I have a talent for communication and enjoy helping others.
Instead of spending all my time on video games, I began learning about becoming an entrepreneur. I started an Instagram channel and a YouTube page, and now I teach people what I have learned about becoming financially successful and investing in our best investment—ourselves.
Through all these experiences, I saw the hand of the Lord many times, especially finding forgiveness in my Savior’s sacrifice. There will be times that I will fail, but with resilience and the Atonement of Jesus Christ, I can become more like Him.

Masahiro Suzuki, 18, of the Sapporo 2nd Ward, is excited because right now his family is listening to the missionary discussions. He’s also excited because his family has agreed to allow him to go on a full-time mission, especially since he plans to pay his own way. “Elder Mark E. Petersen (of the Council of the Twelve) visited here, and I told him I would earn money for my mission,” Masahiro says. Working part-time as a jackhammer operator while he attends drafting school, Masahiro has managed to put aside sufficient funds for his entire mission. “Be sure to let Elder Petersen know!” he says, with a wide grin.

An active youth committee in Cache Valley made it their project to take care of the aged and shut-ins. Each week the girls would prepare suppers and the boys would prepare lessons or activities to take to the homes of the unfortunate, giving them plenty of tender loving care in a family home evening situation. What do you think it did for those young people to be involved in such a worthy, compassionate service?
Deep desire to be of service and to demonstrate love can even benefit the bishop. In Sacramento, California, while the bishop was away on vacation with his family, the youth committee determined to paint his house. These young people had the time of their lives working together and anticipating the pleasant surprise of the bishop when he returned. A real bond of love was established between the youth and their bishop with such meaningful service.

A young man once came to Socrates and said, “Mr. Socrates, I have come sixteen hundred miles to talk to you about wisdom and learning.” He said, “You are a man of wisdom and learning and I would like to be a man of wisdom and learning. Would you teach me how to be a man of wisdom and learning?”

Socrates said, “Come, follow me.” And he led the way down to the seashore.

Then they waded out into the water up to their waists. Then Socrates seized his friend and held his head under the water. His friend struggled and kicked and bucked and tried to get away but Socrates held him down. Now if you hold somebody’s head under the water long enough he will eventually become fairly peaceable, and when this man had quit kicking, Socrates carried him out on the bank and laid him out to dry, and he went back to the marketplace.

After this man had thawed out a little bit he came back to Socrates to find the reason for this rather unusual behavior, and Socrates said to him, “When your head was under the water, what was the one thing you wanted more than anything else?”

And he said, “More than anything else I wanted air.”

Then Socrates said, “When you want wisdom and learning like you wanted air, you won’t need to ask anybody to give it to you.”