Gospel Story Finder

May I relate an experience that came many years ago as I was learning to fly airplanes. My instructor and I were flying straight and level, and off on the horizon lay a range of mountains. Suddenly the instructor put the plane into a maneuver, and I saw with my own eyes the mountain range rear up, stand on its end, turn upside down and then continue around until it resumed its former position. The instructor then climbed up to a height, and he put the plane into a spin. As we came falling through the air, I looked down below and saw the whole world whirling around as if it were a huge wheel. I had never beheld phenomena of this nature before.

I have in the succeeding time performed these maneuvers myself many times. If I were to perform that snap roll today, I would not be able to see the mountains stand on end nor turn upside down. The reason is that I have been enlightened by reality and have learned the truth. I know now that it was I who was turning around, not the mountain, and it was not the world that was spinning. Having thus oriented myself, I now observe things in their true light. This is the case as the temptations of this world come upon us. We may momentarily be confused by what appears to be reality; but truth is eternal and will bring clarity to our perception, if we are obedient to the covenant and hold to the iron rod.

Bro. Tew: Brothers and Sisters, Aloha. We are humbled and grateful for the opportunity to share some time with you this morning. As I finished my mission and my degree at BYU, I moved into an apartment complex in Murray, Utah and started working as an accountant.
Sis. Tew: As I finished my mission and my degree at Southern Utah University, I moved into that same apartment complex and started teaching first grade. I was assigned a wonderful home teacher. He came very faithfully every month, then he started coming every week, then he came over every day. So I decided to keep him.
Bro. Tew: We were married and began anticipating having a family. After a year we started seeing doctors and after two and a half years we filled out our adoption paperwork with LDS Family Services.
Sis. Tew: After five years, we were given a wonderful gift, our first daughter Jessica. I finally got to be a Mom. Now we have four adopted children, ranging from ages two to twelve.

The other experience is the loss of his firstborn, a little daughter by the name of Mercy Josephine, whom he affectionately referred to as “Dodo.” Little Dodo, the eldest sister of President Joseph Fielding Smith, died when she was three. After watching over her night after night, holding her, and encouraging her, her father grieved when one entire night she went sleepless. The next morning when she said, “I’ll sleep tonight, papa,” the words “shot through my heart.” Shortly thereafter, she died. The sorrow of his heart can only be adequately expressed in the words of a letter written at that time to his wife Edna.
“I scarcely dare to trust myself to write, even now my heart aches, and my mind is all chaos; if I should murmur, may God forgive me, my soul has been and is tried with poignant grief, my heart is bruised and wrenched almost asunder. I am desolate, my home seems desolate and almost dreary … my own sweet Dodo is gone! I can scarcely believe it and my heart asks, can it be? I look in vain, I listen, no sound, I wander through the rooms, all are vacant, lonely, desolate, deserted. I look down the garden walk, peer around the house, look here and there for a glimpse of a little golden, sunny head and rosy cheeks, but no, alas, no pattering little footsteps. No beaming little black eyes sparkling with love for papa; no sweet little enquiring voice … no soft dimpled hands clasping me around the neck, no sweet rosy lips returning in childish innocence my fond embrace and kisses, but a vacant little chair. Her little toys are concealed, her clothes put by, and only the one desolate thought forcing its crushing leaden weight upon my heart—she is not here, she is gone! … I am almost wild, and O God only knows how much I loved my girl, and she the light and joy of my heart.”
Forty-six years later, just two years before his own death, President Smith wrote in his journal, “This is the 49th anniversary of the birth of my firstborn child, Mercy Josephine. A most beautiful and intelligent little girl. She died June 6, 1870, nearly three years old, leaving but the memory of the sweetest, happiest, loveliest three years of my whole life up to that time. O how I loved and cherished that little angel of love and light.”

Two shovels full of sand were poised in front of the slowly churning cement mixer, and two sets of eyes watched carefully the gray sludge sloshing rhythmically inside. Although one set of eyes belonged to a dark-haired 16-year-old from El Salvador and the other to a fair-haired 22-year-old from the United States, both held that clear, steady gaze of common understanding. Both knew that that gray sludge was worth its weight in gold. It was helping to build sturdy cement block houses that signaled hope for families in need. And it was helping to cement ties between Latter-day Saint youth from two different nations, and between these youth and the grief-stricken people of yet a third nation.
The youth—more than 30 young men from El Salvador and upper Guatemala and nine students from Brigham Young University—were working in Guatemala with a host of adult leaders from local branches and stakes, in addition to health and full-time missionaries from around the world. The group included about 55 people in all. Their task—to rebuild homes destroyed by the February 4 earthquake.
Their task was not easy. The terrible terremoto, or earthquake, destroyed about 20 percent of the country’s residential buildings, claimed more than 2,000 lives, and left an estimated one million people homeless. Church members were included in this number. President Guillermo Enrique Rittscher of the Guatemala City Stake, for example, reported 142 homeless families.
Statistics, however, do not paint as clearly the picture of human drama as the scene that greeted the volunteers when they arrived two months after the quake. Guatemala City had become a tent city. Large families were bravely trying to work out of small tents amid a cold, steady rain. They had begun to build portable plywood homes, but one room was inadequate for some of the large families. And in addition to all this, the water lines had been broken and much of the water was feared to be contaminated. It had to be boiled before use—not a simple task in a tent.
It was in these circumstances that mission president Robert B. Arnold and Harold B. Brown, Regional Representative of the Twelve for Mexico and Central America, organized the project and obtained the clearance for calling work missionaries from El Salvador and upper Guatemala to help build earthquake-resistant houses.
The young men who volunteered ranged in age from 15 to 18. They postponed their own work, their studies, and other activities to help.
“We really appreciate these young workers. We truly feel that the Church is going to be in fabulous hands as these boys grow and mature and take their positions of leadership in their various wards here in Guatemala and El Salvador,” said Carol Lyons, a health service missionary who helped pilot the program. “They truly love the gospel and all of its facets, and they really want to serve our Heavenly Father. This is their main purpose in being here—so that they can help their brothers in building these homes. But likewise, they can be prepared and go forth as proselyting missionaries in the months to come.”
The program had already begun when the BYU volunteers, most of them building construction majors, offered to share their expertise for eight weeks with the young workers. With the direction of Lon Wallace, their adviser and an instructor in BYU’s building construction and technology program, and the sponsorship of the BYU Benson Agriculture and Food Institute, nine volunteers loaded a van with hard hats, donated tools, and sleeping bags and headed for Guatemala and life in tent city.
The workers were located in two areas—Guatemala City and nearby Patzicia. They lived in tents alongside the members.
“You don’t understand what living in a tent is until you can experience a downpour of an inch or two and feel the dampness and the wetness of trying to build a fire to boil your water and wash your dishes,” said Boyd Lyons, a health service missionary who helped pilot the program. “The wind blows every day. Heavy fog rolls in every day and stays until 9:00 A.M. the next day. You can cut it with a knife.”
Complaints of any kind were scarce, however, although the days were long and hard, beginning at 5:30 in the morning. After a spiritual meeting with scripture reading and prayer, breakfast was served. Then the truck was loaded with needed supplies, and the volunteers were ready to start work at 7:00 A.M. Sometimes they took lunch with them, so they didn’t return to camp until 5:00 or 6:00 in the evening. After dinner there were English classes to teach or to attend and tracting with the full-time missionaries to do. Finally, many weary young men eased their bodies, aching from hard work, into damp sleeping bags.
The work was made hard, in part, by a shortage of materials. The workers had only one two-ton truck to transport all of the sand, gravel, and sometimes water for their day’s work. While one crew mixed the cement, another would go back to load up with sand and gravel for more. Because the water lines had been broken, many of the work sites had no water. So workers searched in the constant drizzle and filled 55-gallon drums from rivers, wells, and anywhere there was some water so that the cement mixing could go on.
“We ended up working hard. In fact, as I thought about it, I know that nobody could pay me enough money to do that kind of work. I’d do it for free for these people, but nobody could ever pay me enough to do work like that,” one volunteer said thoughtfully.
As the time neared for the BYU volunteers to leave, the young Central American workers showed their appreciation in ways that broke down all language barriers. One young man organized a party with decorations, poems, talks, and a special meal with Guatemalan goodies prepared by one of the local Relief Society groups. At the end of the celebration, he threw his arms around one of the tall BYU students and broke into tears at the thought of their leaving. And so the BYU group left to resume their lives with a new perspective. But their tools, their expertise in building, and, most important, their testimonies stayed.
“Words are inadequate for expressing our gratitude,” one Guatemalan woman told Brother Wallace. “Only the Lord can thank you, and he will in time.”
Following disaster, the Guatemalan Saints begin life anew, with a stronger faith in God and in their fellowmen. Within concrete walls, their gratitude reverberates and grows with the warmth that can only be inspired by love in action.

An old Asian tale describes a prince who was reared in a castle and kept sheltered from the hardships of life. He never saw anyone who was ill. He never saw anyone who was aged. He never saw anyone die.
When the prince grew to be a young man, he desired to go out into the kingdom he ruled. As he was being carried along on a litter, he saw for the first time an old man, toothless, wrinkled, and bent with age.
The prince said to his bearers, “Stop! Wait! What is this?”
The chief bearer replied, “This is a man who is bent with age. Though you are young and strong, the time will come when you too must be bent with age.”
This disheartened the prince. His confrontation with aging was more than he could bear. He asked to be taken back to the castle.
After a few days in familiar surroundings he felt rejuvenated. He decided to venture forth again. This time as he passed by a group of men he noticed that one of them was on the ground, overcome with fever and convulsing in pain.
“What is this?” the prince asked.
“This is a man who is ill,” said the porter. “Though you are now young and strong, you too will have to suffer the problems of sickness.”
The prince was again saddened and returned immediately to the palace. But again in a few days, he wanted to visit his kingdom once more.
They hadn’t gone far from the castle when the prince saw a coffin being carried to its place of burial.
“What is this?” he asked.
When the meaning of death was explained to the inquiring young prince, he became depressed by the inevitable vision of the future. As he returned to the immediate comfort of his palace, he vowed he would never come out again.
The prince interpreted life to be an evil trick because no matter what a man did or what a man was, he had to suffer sickness, aging, and death.

The big glass jar had the words “Fill Your Life with Service” on the side. Each week the young women and their leaders from the Titusville Ward in Florida anonymously wrote down the acts of service they had given during the week. The slips of paper were then rolled, taped, and placed in the jar. The young women used yellow paper, and the leaders used green. Plus, on one Mutual night for each of the six months of the project the young women held a service activity.
The first month focused on service to family, week two on friends, and then the priesthood, neighbors, community, and the world. The slips of paper revealed all kinds of service: “I helped my brother with his homework,” “I baked my friend a cake,” “I volunteered at the animal shelter,” “I sent some mail to missionaries from our ward.”
Jessica Crook, a Beehive, said, “I think the activities helped all of us understand more about helping and serving others.” In the end there were more yellow papers than green, so the young women were rewarded with a dinner prepared and served by their leaders.

William’s 12th birthday was coming. He couldn’t wait! There were six other boys in his class at church, and he was excited to be a deacon with them. It was nice to have so many good friends at church.
One day, the stake president came to William’s house. William heard him talking to Mom and Dad. “The Lord would like to call you to be the president of the sign-language branch,” he said.
William’s heart pounded in excitement. His family was going to go to a branch with members who spoke sign language! He had been learning sign language at school. It would be fun to learn more. His little sisters were excited too.
But then, William’s heart sank. He thought about all his friends in his ward. He wouldn’t get to be a deacon with them, or pass the sacrament with them. His excitement quickly melted away.
Later that night, William was practicing the piano. Mom came in and scooted next to him on the piano bench. “How do you feel about Dad’s new calling?” she asked.
William stopped playing. He looked down at the piano keys and sighed. “I’m kind of sad,” he said. “The sign-language branch will be nice, but what if there isn’t anyone my age there? I’ll miss my friends.” He felt bad for complaining, but he was really worried. “I want to do what Heavenly Father wants. But it’s going to be hard.” He tried to blink away the tears in his eyes.
Mom put her arm around him and smiled. “You remind me of your great-great-great Grandpa Turner,” she said. “When he joined the Church in England, he had to leave his friends and family to go to Utah.”
Mom got up and walked over to the bookshelf. When she came back, she was flipping through the pages of an old photo album. She pointed to an old black-and-white photo of a man with a beard.
“This is Grandpa Turner,” she said. “When he got to Salt Lake City, Church leaders asked him to move to a small town in the desert several hundred miles away. He didn’t like it there. He thought it was dry, hot, and ugly, and he missed his friends. But he stayed there because he wanted to obey the Lord.”
William looked up at Mom with wide eyes. He imagined moving to a desert without any friends. It sounded miserable.
“What happened after he moved?” he asked.
“He lived there for a few years. But then he had to move back to Salt Lake City because they couldn’t grow enough food in the desert,” Mom said.
William frowned. “But why did Heavenly Father tell him to move somewhere he didn’t like, when he was just going to leave a few years later?”
“I don’t know,” Mom answered. “But I do know Grandpa Turner got a lot of blessings by obeying Heavenly Father— like meeting his wife in that small desert town. And he learned important things that helped him serve the Lord for the rest of his life.”
William thought for a moment and looked at the old photo of his great-great-great grandpa again. Leaving my friends is going to be hard, he thought. But if Grandpa Turner could do it, Heavenly Father will help me too. He felt happier inside. He knew he could be brave and follow the Lord. Just like Grandpa did.

Anna’s heart sank as she walked into the room and saw the Christmas tree. The water heater in their house had burst, and water was all over the floor. Dad was still trying to clean up the mess. The few presents under the tree were completely soaked.
Anna and her little brothers grabbed some towels and tried to dry the presents. But it didn’t really work. They were a soggy mess.
Anna’s family was going through a hard time. Her dad didn’t have a job right now. Her mom was going to have a baby soon, and she felt sick a lot. And now they wouldn’t have any presents for Christmas.
That night as Anna got ready for bed, she could hear Mom and Dad talking in the kitchen.
“What are we going to do?” Mom asked. It sounded like she was crying. “We don’t have enough money for the house payment, and now we don’t even have presents for the kids.” Anna had an empty, twisty feeling in her stomach.
“We’ll figure something out,” Dad said.
Anna walked into the kitchen. Mom reached out and gave her a big hug. With her arms around Mom’s tummy, Anna felt the baby move. She smiled. “We have a new baby coming. You always say that a baby is a miracle.”
Mom smiled back. “That’s right. We have a lot to be grateful for.”
“We have each other,” Dad said. He kissed the top of Anna’s head. “It’ll be OK.”
On the way to her room, Anna heard her brothers crying. She sat down on David’s bed.
“Everyone is so sad,” David said quietly.
“And we won’t have any presents,” Robbie said, sniffling.
“It’ll be OK,” Anna said again. “You’ll see.”
Before she got into bed, Anna knelt and asked Heavenly Father what she could do for her family. She didn’t have any money to buy presents, but she still had a warm, comforting feeling in her heart.
The next morning, she stayed in bed thinking for a few minutes before getting ready for school. Then an idea came to her! That afternoon she hurried home and did her chores and homework. Then she found some paper and string and a few markers and stickers she had gotten for her birthday. She took them all to her room and closed the door.
Anna almost laughed when she thought about how surprised her family would be. First she folded the paper and tied it together with string to make four booklets. She chose a star sticker to put on Mom’s booklet and a planet for Dad’s. She put a dog for David’s booklet and a rocket for Robbie’s.
Then Anna started drawing. For Mom she drew a picture of herself sweeping the floor. She drew a picture of herself cooking dinner with Dad, one of her playing soccer with David, and one of her reading a book to Robbie. It took her several days to fill each booklet with pictures.
Finally it was Christmas Eve, and Anna carefully placed her booklets under the tree.
The next morning, she gave each person in her family a booklet. “I like these pictures,” David said. “I like playing soccer.”
“They’re not just pictures,” Anna said with a sparkle in her eyes. “They’re coupons! The pictures all show things I’ll do for you.”
“This is the nicest gift you could have given us,” Mom said as she looked through her booklet. Anna was thankful that Heavenly Father helped her think of making Christmas coupons. A new baby was coming, and with Heavenly Father’s help, everything really would be OK.

Plop! Plop! Bennett felt drops of paint hit his face as he pushed the paint roller up the wall.
“Oh great,” he grumbled. His arms ached, he was thirsty, and now he was covered in sticky paint spots. He turned to Mom.
“I don’t really want to do this anymore. Can we go home?”
Mom stopped painting and wiped her forehead with her arm.
“There’s still a lot of wall left to paint,” she said. “And we haven’t been here that long. If you could keep helping, that would be great.”
Bennett looked at the grimy wall. It seemed to stretch on forever. At first he had been excited to help with this service project, but now he was just bored and tired. Several other people were helping paint, but Mom was right—there was a long way to go!
“Fine,” he mumbled, picking up his paint roller.
“Why don’t we play Name That Song?” Mom said. She started humming.
Bennett smiled a little. He was really good at this game! He knew the tune right away.
“That’s ‘Nephi’s Courage’!” Bennett said. “We sang it in Primary last week.”
Mom reached over to give him a messy high five.
“I like that song because it talks about some of the hard things Nephi did,” she said. “Like getting the plates, even when he had to keep trying over and over again.”
“And building a boat!” Bennett said.
Mom nodded. “When we get tired today, maybe it would help if we think of what Nephi would do. We could try having a Nephi attitude.”
Bennett liked the idea of being like Nephi. Nephi was strong and brave and good.
Bennett imagined Nephi painting with him. He imagined Nephi standing on his tiptoes to help him reach the highest bricks. He imagined Nephi racing him to see who could paint the fastest with the least drips. He thought Nephi would probably like working hard to help someone else.
Little by little, Bennett and Mom kept painting the wall, playing Name That Song as they went along. Sometimes they took a water break under a nearby tree with the other helpers. As the sun got high and hot in the sky, Bennett realized that they were almost finished!
“Sorry I was grumpy,” Bennett told Mom as they sat in the shade. “I guess I feel like Laman and Lemuel sometimes.”
Mom laughed. “We all do! And I really appreciate your help. Thanks for not giving up.”
Bennett looked at the wall. Almost all of the grime and graffiti was now covered with fresh, clean paint. It made the whole block look brighter! Bennett grinned. He had helped make that happen!
There was just one part left to paint.
“C’mon, Mom,” Bennett said, taking a last gulp of water and picking up his paintbrush. “Let’s go and do!”
“You are a great power for good. You will make the world a better place.”

I can still remember when my parents took our family to the newly erected Swiss Temple, the first in Europe, to become a forever family. I was 16 then and the youngest of four children. We knelt together at the altar to be sealed on earth by the power of the priesthood, with a wonderful promise that we could be sealed for eternity. I will never forget this magnificent moment.
As a boy I was quite impressed that we crossed country borders to be sealed as a family. To me it symbolizes the way temple work crosses worldly boundaries to bring eternal blessings to all the inhabitants of the earth. The temples of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints are truly built for the benefit of all the world.

While preparing to teach a family home evening lesson, I wanted to give my children some perspective on the daily rigors and challenges of missionary work. As I opened my missionary journal to look for a suitable example, I found a summary of a not-so-uncommon day.
First, my companion and I went to see Maria, who was washing clothes. “Could you come back later this morning?” she asked.
We went to see another investigator, but he was sleeping. When we returned to Maria’s home at 11:30 a.m., she was still washing clothes.
Later, at 3:00 p.m., we had an appointment with another investigator. When we arrived, he was making grease.
“I’m really busy right now,” he told us. “Can you come back later?”
We returned to Maria’s home, but she was now washing dishes. Then we went to visit another investigator named Junior. He was busy cooking.
“How about tomorrow?” he asked us.
I wrote in my journal: “We try to plan really well, do our best to keep our appointments, and make plan B and plan C. We pray for inspiration. There’s got to be a more practical way to help people.”
As I reread those experiences through more mature eyes, I chuckled. The lesson I had intended to teach my children about developing resilience to face disappointment now seemed less important than the lesson I had just been taught.
My exasperated plea of 30 years before seemed funny to me now. The answer to my exasperation was right there in my plea. Thinking of my younger self, I mused, “Elder Jackson, what if you had tried to help people by helping them in their time of need?”
Today, if my companion and I found Maria facing a burden of laundry and dishes, we would say, “How can we help you?”
Today, if the man we had scheduled to visit was busy making grease, we would exclaim, “Can you teach us? We’d love to help you!”
Today, if we found Junior busy preparing food, we would say, “We’re at your service! What would you like us to do?”
As a young missionary, I tended to look at service as something to schedule rather than as something to offer when needed. Today I try to teach people about the love of Jesus Christ by showing them His love.

During my senior year of high school, I prayed for the Spirit to lead me to someone ready to hear the gospel. I had a friend in mind as I prayed. This friend of mine, Ashley (name has been changed), had expressed some interest in my religion, and she already held herself to the same standards as Latter-day Saint youth. I was convinced this was the time she needed to hear the gospel.
I was serving in my Laurel class presidency at the time, and during a bishopric youth committee meeting, I received a strong impression to suggest to the bishop that we have a missionary activity in Mutual. I felt impressed that the youth of our ward should invite nonmember friends to this activity for a question-and-answer session with the missionaries serving in our ward. My bishop enthusiastically set up the activity with the elders, and I was sure that this was the answer I had been praying for. Now Ashley could come and learn more about the gospel in an environment where she would not feel any pressure. I was confident that after Ashley came to the question-and-answer activity, she would be touched by the Spirit, ask to receive the missionary lessons, and in about a month would be baptized and confirmed a member of the Church.
Now my prayers turned to how to ask Ashley to the activity. I prayed to serve as an instrument in the Lord’s hands to introduce His plan and gospel to someone prepared to receive it. At school I invited Ashley to the activity, and she said she would ask her parents if it was all right with them.
Later that afternoon, I received a call from Ashley. She told me her parents were definitely OK with it. In fact, she explained that before her parents married, her father had lived with two LDS roommates and was very impressed with how they lived. I was overjoyed because the only obstacle I had envisioned was whether or not Ashley’s parents would be OK with her pursuing another religion.
As I continued to pray about the upcoming missionary activity, I felt a calm reassurance that I was indeed an instrument in the hands of the Lord and that He was pleased I had acted on the prompting at the bishopric youth committee meeting. I looked forward to the activity with great anticipation. Ashley and I had been friends for many years, and I was excited to play a part in her introduction to the gospel and, of course, her resulting conversion.
On the morning of the activity, I received a phone call from Ashley. She had changed her mind and was no longer planning to come to the activity. I was devastated and confused. I had been praying for Ashley, I was sure she was ready, and she was the whole reason I had thrown myself into missionary mode. I also felt embarrassed. During the activity planning process, I had made it very clear to everyone that my friend Ashley was ready to learn and accept the gospel.
As I cried with frustration in my room, I began to be filled with self-doubt. If I had been wrong about Ashley, then maybe I had been wrong in believing that the missionary question-and-answer activity was actually a spiritual prompting. Engulfed in a teenage sense of uncertainty, anger, self-pity, and disappointment, I decided to skip the activity myself.
A few weeks later, as I was walking through the school library, my friend Brian asked me if I wanted to come to his baptism. Brian and I didn’t have any classes together that year, so it had been quite a while since I had seen or spoken with him. The previous year we had sat next to each other in a history class and had partnered up for a class project. Our project topic, randomly assigned by our teacher, was “Joseph Smith and the Mormons.” I remembered Brian had been quite interested in the topic as we did our research. However, he also liked to joke around, saying things like, “Remind me which wife number your mom is” and “There is going to be this fun party this weekend, but oh, wait—you’re Mormon, so you would be no fun to go with.” Thus, I initially dismissed his baptism invitation as another joke at the expense of my religion. He did not seem like the type ready to join a church with such “restrictive standards.”
But the next words out of his mouth stunned me as he described the whirlwind of the past few weeks of his life. He explained overhearing a fellow classmate and member of my ward invite someone to a question-and-answer activity at the Mormon church. When the person receiving the invitation declined, Brian asked our classmate if he could come along instead. Following the activity, he immediately began taking the missionary lessons. He read the Book of Mormon. He prayed about it. He knew it was true. He really was getting baptized, and if I wanted to, I was welcome to come. After all, he said, I was the one who introduced him to Joseph Smith and the Mormons.
In quiet amazement I realized that the Lord had heard my prayers. He was using me as an instrument in His hands to find someone He had prepared to hear and accept the gospel. It had never occurred to me to invite Brian to meet the missionaries because he did not seem, in my opinion, ready. Not like Ashley.
At that humbling moment I realized how vital it is that I act on all promptings I receive by the Spirit. Although I continue to pray that Ashley will be ready for the gospel, I learned a significant lesson from the unexpected outcome of my attempt at sharing the gospel with her. The Lord always has a purpose for the promptings He gives us, and I do not need to know or guess what it is. Instead, it is my responsibility to carry out the prompting confidently and resolutely. As I pray for missionary opportunities, act on promptings, and accept the Lord’s will, rather than trying to impose my own, I can more fully serve as an instrument in the hands of God and help build His kingdom.

I grew up in a very loving family, and my whole life was centered around the gospel of Jesus Christ. I was first assistant in the priests quorum, and I served a mission. Shortly after returning home from my mission, I was arrested for a very serious crime. I was sentenced to 15 years in prison and excommunicated from the Church. As I sit here thinking of the many mistakes I made in life, I am now getting my life back together. Each month I receive the New Era, and I learn from each article I read. I use them in my daily walk in life, and they help me and lift me in times of despair.
Name Withheld

For thirty years and more, Sister Louise Lake, who has now passed away, lived alone trapped in a wheelchair. A parade of problems plagued her constantly. But she made it, beautifully prepared to meet our Heavenly Father. And this is how she did it. Each morning over the years she practiced an “exercise in joy”—a kind of fervent blessing-counting session upon awakening. Imagine! An exercise in joy under those circumstances. She didn’t curse God and die. (See Job 2:9.) She gave thanks and lived—anyway—touching many of us in remarkable ways because of what she had learned about trouble.

On May 30 of last year, my friend Troy Russell pulled his pickup truck slowly out of his garage on his way to donate goods to the local Deseret Industries. He felt his back tire roll over a bump. Thinking some item had fallen off the truck, he got out only to find his precious nine-year-old son, Austen, lying face down on the pavement. The screams, the priesthood blessing, the paramedic crew, the hospital staff—they were, in this case, to no avail. Austen was gone.
Unable to sleep, unable to find peace, Troy was inconsolable. He said it was more than he could bear and that he simply could not go on. But into that agonizing breach came three redeeming forces.
First was the love and reassuring spirit of our Father in Heaven, a presence communicated through the Holy Ghost that comforted Troy, taught him, loved him, and whispered that God knows everything about losing a beautiful and perfect Son. Second was his wife, Deedra, who held Troy in her arms and loved him and reminded him that she too had lost that son and was determined not to lose a husband also. Third in this story is John Manning, home teacher extraordinaire.
I frankly don’t know on what schedule John and his junior companion made visits to the Russell home, or what message was given when they got there, or how they reported the experience. What I do know is that last spring Brother Manning reached down and picked Troy Russell up off the tragedy of that driveway just as if he were picking up little Austen himself. Like the home teacher or watchman or brother in the gospel he was supposed to be, John simply took over the priesthood care and keeping of Troy Russell. He started by saying, “Troy, Austen wants you back on your feet—including on the basketball court—so I will be here every morning at 5:15 a.m. Be ready because I don’t want to have to come in to get you up—and I know Deedra doesn’t want me to do that either.”
“I didn’t want to go,” Troy told me later, “because I had always taken Austen with me on those mornings and I knew the memories would be too painful. But John insisted, so I went. From that first day back, we talked—or rather I talked and John listened. I talked the entire drive to the church and then the entire drive home. Sometimes I talked while we parked in the driveway and watched the sun rising over Las Vegas. At first it was difficult, but over time I realized I had found my strength in the form of a very slow 6-foot-2-inch (1.88 m) Church ball player, with an absolutely pathetic jump shot, who loved me and listened to me until the sun finally rose again on my life.”

The landscape was nothing like she was used to. Hot, dry, and not a snowflake in sight, Texas seemed almost like another planet to Kayli C. For a girl who grew up in Alaska, that’s an understandable reaction.

“In Alaska, during the summer we called our hot weather anything above 50 degrees,” Kayli said. “In Texas it was hard to breathe because it was so humid and hot outside.”

For Kayli, the weather shift from Alaska to Texas was only one change among many. Her dad had just died in an unexpected tragedy, and their mother was unable to care for Kayli and her two younger sisters. At the time, Kayli, now a junior in high school, was 13, and her younger sisters, Jada and Rhianna, were only 10 and 8.

Extended family decided that the best solution would be for the three siblings to move in with their older sister and her husband in Texas.

Even though Jenny, Kayli’s older sister, and Jenny’s husband, Matt, welcomed the three siblings with open arms, this was anything but an easy transition.

First there was the weather. There was also the fact that, to the small-town sisters, the huge schools of Texas were overwhelming.

And then there was this whole practice of attending church …

“I loved growing up in Alaska,” Kayli says. “I loved the snow and cold. I loved going outside. Everything was so pretty. And I loved ice skating, sledding, and all the winter stuff.”

She’s also quick to point out a few other things about life back in Alaska. “My friends and I saw that doing bad things was how you got popular. And to me, being popular was how you became happy. So I wasn’t headed in a good direction.”

One of Kayli’s friends became pregnant. Another got involved with drugs. Some of her other friends started becoming extremely negative all the time.

“I liked living in Alaska,” Kayli says again. “But I really have to wonder where my life would be if I’d stayed there. A lot of my friends in Alaska are not in a good place now.”

One important event in Kayli’s life happened before she was even walking and talking. While Kayli was still very young, her older sister Jenny met the missionaries in college and joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. After attending one year of college in Alaska, Jenny transferred to BYU–Idaho, where she met her husband, Matt. After graduation, Matt and Jenny moved to Texas.

When they took in the younger siblings, Matt and Jenny had two rules about religion: “The first was that they would attend church with us, as part of the family,” says Jenny. “The second rule was that Matt and I would never require them to be baptized or even to take the missionary lessons. That had to be their own choice.”

So, Kayli started attending church as well as midweek activities. At first, it didn’t really do much for her. “I attended, but I didn’t believe anything,” Kayli says. “I wasn’t really paying attention.”

However, she began to notice something unusual. “Every time I went to church or youth activities, I’d be happy.”

After a couple years of noticing this, Kayli was ready to meet a very special friend.

“I met my friend Maddie when we moved to another part of Texas the summer before 10th grade,” Kayli says. “She introduced herself and became such a great example to me.”

Kayli says that Maddie always seems upbeat and joyful, even when times get tough. As their friendship grew, Kayli looked forward to attending Church meetings and activities more.

“Maddie is such a good friend,” Kayli says.

Photographs by Aubrey Stock

Another big influence in Kayli’s life was seminary. Unlike when she first attended church, this time Kayli truly started paying close attention to what was being taught. “The reason why I started paying attention in seminary is that the people around me were really good at answering questions and participating. I wanted to be a part of that.”

The stars were aligning, as they say. Between studying the Book of Mormon in seminary, seeing the gospel bring happiness to her older sister, brother-in-law, and others in the ward, and making some key friendships, Kayli was ready to say yes when Maddie asked if she’d like to take the missionary lessons at her house.

From there, things moved quickly. Kayli and her younger sister—who was asked independently and by a different friend to take the lessons at that friend’s house—decided to be baptized on the same day.

“In Alaska, my happiness came from hanging out with my friends and trying to be popular,” Kayli says. “Now my happiness comes from the gospel. I’ve learned so much from the members here. I’ve learned that happiness and light come through Jesus Christ and Heavenly Father.”

Kayli’s testimony of the gospel grew, in large part, with a close study of the Book of Mormon in seminary. These days, the Book of Mormon is still just as important to her as ever. “The Book of Mormon is one of the main things that has been bringing me happiness,” she explains. “It’s changed me so much. I want others to feel that too and have been trying to share it.”

She carries the Book of Mormon with her everywhere she goes, including school. “There are so many things that kids at school do that drive the Spirit away, like using bad language or trying too hard to be popular,” Kayli says. “Keeping a Book of Mormon in my backpack helps me remember my goal: to keep the Spirit and share the positivity that the gospel brings us.”

She doesn’t know if her testimony would have had that chance to grow, though, if it hadn’t been for the faithful examples of Church members around her. “Members of the Church were a part of me being baptized,” she says. “Without their examples and spiritual light, I probably wouldn’t have noticed anything different in them and would have continued not paying attention to anything Church-related.”

Kayli and her siblings have definitely been through some hard times in the past. Yet Kayli has found hope for her future, and it’s a hope she wants to pass on to anybody else struggling through a hard time right now.

“Remember to press forward and keep focusing on the positive side of things,” Kayli says. “And if you’ve lost a loved one, remember that Heavenly Father has a plan for you and for others. We’ll be able to live with our families forever if we do what’s right.”

Think of ancestors of yours who were never prominent in the world but who were instrumental in blessing many lives. My mother’s parents were Swiss converts who had immigrated to the United States. My grandmother, Amalie, had bone tuberculosis as a young woman about your age and was very grateful to be healed after several years of suffering. Even after she had been cured of the disease, she had misshapen feet that caused a pronounced limp and also had scars from the sores on her arms, legs, and neck.

When she received the healing blessing, she was told she could fulfill her life’s mission. She said, “What it was I don’t know, but I always wanted to get married and was fond of children and wanted children of my own so bad.”8

Amalie was able to meet a fellow convert who was also committed to the Lord, and they were sealed.

My grandmother talked about the births of their first three children. She said, “On June 27, 1916, our first son, Enoch, was born, which made me very, very happy.”9 But Enoch died when he was six years old. About the next two children, my grandmother wrote, “Our second son was born 8 October 1919. He was very strong and healthy. We named him Aaron George. In 1922 on January 2, Winifred was born. It was a terrible blow to us.”10

Winifred is my mother. My grandmother did go on to explain why they were disappointed. She continued, “It was a terrible blow to us because we wanted to raise at least six boys for missionaries to pay back what the missionaries had done for us.”11

Unlike today, at that time there were very few sister missionaries. My grandparents’ focus was on blessing others the way they had been blessed with the gospel. They did go on to have one more daughter, Leah.

Now of course my grandparents loved my mother. When she was born, my grandparents were just unable to see into the future and know that my mother would have eight children of her own (six of them boys), fifty-five grandchildren, and, at last count, 190 great-grandchildren. My grandparents wanted missionaries and ended up with many through my mother, who also served a mission with my father. Seven of her children, thirty-five of her grandchildren, and twelve in the first wave of the oldest great-grandchildren have served or are currently serving as missionaries. My mother was one of those beautiful babies who God sent to help bless the world.

A true story from the USA.
Water swirled around Scott’s legs as he stepped into the baptismal font. His older brother Sandy was already standing in the water. He smiled and took Scott’s hand.
Scott smiled back and looked up at the people watching. There was Dad. He looked so happy! And there was Mom. She waved at him. She was also wearing white baptismal clothes. Scott’s other brother Gerrie was going to baptize her.
When Mom had told Scott she would get baptized on the same day as him, he had been so excited. Mom hadn’t grown up going to church like Scott had. She had started going to church after she met Dad.
Scott always knew Mom loved Jesus Christ, and she came to church with them almost every week. The missionaries had come to their house a lot too. But it had taken years before Mom felt ready to be baptized. He was so happy they could share this special day together!
It was Mom who had taught him about baptism and confirmation when he turned eight.
“You’ll make a very important promise to Heavenly Father to always follow Him and Jesus Christ,” she had said. “In return, you’ll always have the Holy Ghost with you.”
And now it was time to be baptized! Scott plugged his nose when Sandy dipped him all the way under the water. When Scott came back up, he blinked water from his eyes and grinned. He felt so clean! There was a warm feeling in his heart as he stepped out of the font.
After he changed into dry clothes, Scott sat down and watched Gerrie baptize Mom. She looked so happy as she went into the water and came back out. She looked right at Scott and gave him a big smile.
The next day at church, they were both confirmed as members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Scott closed his eyes as Dad and other priesthood holders put their hands on his head. They blessed him with the gift of the Holy Ghost. Then he listened reverently as Mom was confirmed. He felt warm, happy, and safe. Scott knew he was feeling the Holy Ghost.
Afterward they sat back down to listen to the speakers. Then Scott heard a sniffle. He looked over in surprise to see a tear slide down Mom’s cheek.
Scott frowned. “Are you OK, Mom?” he whispered. “Why are you sad?”
Mom wiped her cheek and smiled. “I’m not sad,” she whispered back. She put an arm around Scott and squeezed. “Sometimes people cry when they’re happy. And I’m so happy right now.”
Scott squeezed back. “Me too.”
Illustrations by Raquel Martin

I lost my father during World War II, when I was four years old. I learned how to work because my father was not there and my mother gave us children assignments. I helped cook dinner for my family because Mother had to work. My older sister and brother had part-time jobs to help the family, and when I got older, I did too. I worked on a farm and with a fishing business.
After I finished junior high school, I had to work to support myself. As a young man I found a full-time job at a bean-curd shop in a larger city about nine hours away from my home. I went to high school in the evenings, so I got home late. Early the next morning at work, I made bean curds and sold them on the street or delivered them to various stores.
I became very sick from working so hard and had to stay in the hospital. I thought I might die. I was born into a Buddhist family. I always felt that there was a God in heaven, but I had never been taught about God. I was very desperate to talk to Him. I didn’t even know the word for “Heavenly Father,” so I asked, “God, are You there? Please help me.” After eight days I was able to leave the hospital, and I lived with my uncle while I recovered.
A few days later the missionaries came to my uncle’s door. When I saw them I told them to go away. But one of them said, “We have a great message for you. A boy just like you saw your Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.” I couldn’t resist because I had been praying and seeking Heavenly Father just a few days before. So I said, “You can have 10 minutes. Come in.”
The missionaries taught me the beautiful and sacred story of Joseph Smith. And I was touched. I really felt the power of the Spirit. The missionaries asked me to pray and ask Heavenly Father if their message was true, and then they taught me how to pray. I prayed that evening. Even now I remember exactly how I felt that day.
I asked the missionaries to come back almost every day after that. I believed what they taught me. I believed that Joseph Smith saw Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ in the Sacred Grove. But before I could be baptized, I needed to get permission from my mother. I called her and said, “Mother, I’ve found a wonderful church. I need to get your permission to join.”
She said, “No. I lost my husband; I don’t want to lose my son.” She was afraid that if I joined the Church I would leave her.
I said, “I’m not going anywhere.” And then she hung up.
The missionaries fasted and prayed for me, and I did too. I called her again and said, “Please don’t hang up on me until I’ve really explained it.” She suggested that I study more and take some more time to decide. But I felt strongly that now was the time I should be baptized.
Finally she told me, “Son, if you are going to quit right in the middle, don’t do it. But if you will stay with it all the way through, then you have my permission.” That caused me to always take my membership in the Church very seriously.
I am grateful for my mother. I am grateful for Heavenly Father who allowed me to come into contact with the restored gospel. All the experiences I’ve had in the Church have been wonderful. But nothing compares with my depth of appreciation for the Savior, for His grace and mercy, and for what He has done for my wife and children.
When my son was called on a mission to Brazil, we took a father-son trip to the Sacred Grove in Palmyra, New York. We spent three days doing nothing but walking and talking there. On the final day we sat on a bench and bore our testimonies to each other. I shared my own conversion story once again with my son, and we cried. I hope his children and his grandchildren carry on this legacy of love and faith for years to come.

Once you turn 16, group dating is a great way to build friendships. You’ll want to keep in mind a few things. Follow the example below to see what outcomes your decisions may have.
Start
You worked up the nerve to ask someone out. Great job. Your date asks, “Who else is coming?” You answer:
John and Suzy. (Go to #2.)
No one. (Go to #3.)
Good answer. Group dating is important in your teenage years. What do you have planned for the date?
Go to a movie. (Go to #4.)
Go on a hike. (Go to #5.)
It’s time to rethink this one (see For the Strength of Youth [2011], 4). Your date says she won’t go without a group. What do you do?
Make it a group date instead. (Go to #2.)
Stay home.
A nice idea, but maybe not the best option. You enjoyed the show, but you sat next to each other for two hours without saying a word. What do you do next?
Go home; you’re tired. (Go to #6.)
Make a dessert. (Go to #7.)
Sounds fun! And it will give you lots of opportunities to get to know one another. Did you tell your date what the plan is?
Of course! (Go to #8.)
Whoops! (Go to #9.)
You take your date home, and she thanks you for the nice time. It’s too bad you didn’t really get to know her better instead of just watching a movie.
The group gets ice cream at someone’s home. The dessert is good, and you enjoy talking with everyone. It’s almost curfew. What do you do?
Take your date home. (Go to #10.)
Stay a little longer—you’re having fun. (Go to #11.)
You enjoyed the hike and really got to know everyone in the group. What now?
Make a dessert. (Go to #7.)
Take your date home. (Go to #10.)
Your date wasn’t prepared for hiking, so you wait inside the door for a few minutes while she changes. You’re a little late in meeting up with the group, so the hike ends up shorter than you’d planned, but it’s still fun. What now?
Make a dessert. (Go to #7.)
Take your date home. (Go to #10.)
Your date says she had a great time, thanks you for the evening, and says, “We should do that again sometime!” You smile all the way home.
When you return home after curfew, you and your date both get grounded. Even though you had fun, your date’s dad won’t let you go out again.