Gospel Story Finder

Consider that you are invited to a friend’s house for breakfast. On the table you see a large pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice from which your host fills his glass. But he offers you none. Finally, you ask, “Could I have a glass of orange juice?”

He replies, “Oh, I am sorry. I was afraid you might not like orange juice, and I didn’t want to offend you by offering you something you didn’t desire.”

Now, that sounds absurd, but it is not too different from the way we hesitate to offer up something far sweeter than orange juice. I have often worried how I would answer some friend about my hesitancy when I meet him beyond the veil.
A story related by Elder Christoffel Golden, of South Africa, refreshed my concerns. He was recently in Lusaka, Zambia, attending a meeting of new converts. A well-spoken, well-dressed stranger with a Book of Mormon in hand walked in. He stated he had driven past the chapel many times and had wondered what church met there and what they taught for doctrine.
At the conclusion of the meeting, this gentleman stood up, raised his copy of the Book of Mormon high in the air, and asked, “Why have you kept this book hidden from the people of Lusaka? Why have you kept it a secret?”
As I heard this story, I flinched that one day some friend might ask me, “Why have you kept this Book of Mormon, with its message of truth and salvation, a secret?”
My reply, “I was afraid I would damage our friendship,” will not be very satisfying to either me or my friend.
Brothers and sisters, I pray that we may put our fears and our hesitancy behind us and no more keep secret the great treasure that is ours.

Ben was angry. It was Saturday morning, and he had just come home from a violin rehearsal. He had a list of chores to do, a violin performance that afternoon, and now something more—his dad had just told him that it was his family’s turn to clean the church.
“I’m not going to have any time to play!” he declared as he threw his jacket on the floor.
Dad sat down with Ben at the kitchen table and said quietly, “I know this is a busy day. But it might be easier if you remember who your time really belongs to.”
Ben calmed down. He knew he was a child of God and that everything—even time—was a gift from Heavenly Father. He nodded slowly.
Dad smiled. “Go get a Book of Mormon, Ben. I want to show you something.”
Dad opened the scriptures to Mosiah 2. “You remember King Benjamin, don’t you?” Ben grinned. He liked to hear stories about the ancient prophet whose name he shared.
“King Benjamin wanted to teach his people how to be happy. He built a tower so people could hear him better, and the people gathered from all around. It was a lot like general conference. He stood on the tower and reminded the people that their homes, families, bodies, and even the air around them were gifts from a loving Heavenly Father.
“He also told his people that he had worked very hard his whole life serving them. He said, ‘And behold, I tell you these things that ye may learn wisdom; that ye may learn that when ye are in the service of your fellow beings ye are only in the service of your God.’”*
“You see, Ben,” Dad concluded, “when you are helping other people, you are helping Heavenly Father. If Jesus appeared to you this morning and asked you to serve Him all day, you would probably be pretty excited about it. If you think about it, Jesus has already asked us to serve Him every day.”
Ben was almost convinced, but he had a question. “I can see how working helps others, but how does playing my violin serve anyone?”
Dad smiled wisely. “Why don’t you wait and see?”
As Ben started doing his chores, he realized that the work needed to be done, so he might as well be cheerful in doing it. He soon noticed how happy it made his mom when he worked without complaining.
Later, when Ben went to the church to help clean, he had fun racing his brother as they vacuumed the cultural hall. He thought about how a spotless church shows respect to Heavenly Father. And cleaning didn’t seem to take as long as he thought it would.
The violin performance was at a home for older people. At first Ben felt nervous. Most of the people were in wheelchairs, and many of them looked like they were asleep. But as Ben began to play his violin, he noticed a white-haired lady in the front row. She was tapping her foot to the music. Ben tried to play his very best just for her. He played a fast fiddling song, and everyone began to clap their hands and stomp their feet. Soon everyone was laughing and smiling.
The last song was “I Am a Child of God.”** Ben played better than he ever had before. As the final notes sang out, a sweet and peaceful feeling settled over the room.
Ben understood now. Beautiful music brings people closer to Heavenly Father, and he was serving others by inviting the Spirit. As he sat down, Dad squeezed his shoulder. “When you play your violin, I can feel Heavenly Father’s love for me. You have a great gift and you need to keep sharing it.” Ben felt warm inside.
As they walked out of the rest home, Ben waved good-bye to his new friends.
“How do you feel now?” Dad asked.
“I feel so good, Dad. I thought today would be nothing but work. But when I thought about serving Heavenly Father instead of myself, everything seemed easier.”

How we preserve time for family is one of the most significant issues we face in most cultures. At a time when I was the only member of the Church in our law firm, one woman lawyer explained to me how she always felt like a juggler trying to keep three balls in the air at the same time. One ball was her law practice, one was her marriage, and one was her children. She had almost given up on time for herself. She was greatly concerned that one of the balls was always on the ground. I suggested we meet as a group and discuss our priorities. We determined that the primary reason we were working was to support our families. We agreed that making more money wasn’t nearly as important as our families, but we recognized that serving our clients to the best of our abilities was essential. The discussion then moved to what we did at work that was not necessary and was inconsistent with leaving time for family. Was there pressure to spend time in the workplace that was not essential?17 We decided that our goal would be a family-friendly environment for both women and men. Let us be at the forefront in protecting time for family.

Close isn’t good enough—especially in horseshoes—for Kelly Jean O’Brien.
Kelly is the new junior girls Horseshoes Pitching World Champion. The Mia Maid president from Spokane, Washington, won her title in LaFayette, Indiana, by defeating seven other girls in the final competition.
Kelly won her state title twice, at ages 12 and 13. She took third place in the world competition in Eureka, California, two years ago. This year, at 15, she worked her way up through all the intermediate contests and qualified for the world pitching at LaFayette. To win she had to pitch against each of the other finalists once. She plans to defend her title this year in the junior girls’ division at Bristol, Pennsylvania, and then compete in the women’s world title bracket in 1977.
Kelly started pitching horseshoes when she was 11 years old after watching a neighbor pitching in his backyard. Kelly is a self-taught student of the game and practices every day during the summer. Now she plays three or four matches a week in club competition.
A convert to the Church of two years, Kelly throws 60 percent ringers, often pitching five or six in a row. Her best string is 16 straight.

We all willingly serve. Sometimes we feel underwhelmed with our calling and wish we were asked to do more. Other times we are grateful when it is time for our release. We do not determine the callings we receive. I learned this lesson early in my marriage. As a young couple, my wife, Kathy, and I lived in Florida. One Sunday a counselor in the stake presidency explained to me that they felt impressed to call Kathy as an early-morning seminary teacher.
“How will we do it?” I asked. “We have small children, seminary begins at 5:00 a.m., and I am the ward Young Men president.”
The counselor smiled and said, “It will be OK, Brother Andersen. We will call her, and we will release you.”
And that is what happened.
Sincerely asking for and listening to the thoughts and concerns voiced by women is vital in life, in marriage, and in building the kingdom of God.

Luke Alley--Lehi, Utah:
Home teacher has probably been where I've felt like I've done the most good. We bought a house a year ago and both my wife and I were assigned as visiting teacher and home teacher to an inactive couple with a new infant. We felt like we should get to know them and become friends before we started visiting as a "church assignment." We started inviting them over to our house for dinner and games, my wife started hanging out during the day with her, and we became friends. Eventually they started i nviting us to dinner, golf, and to just hangout. Counter-intuitively we never brought up church. Then one Sunday about two months ago they just showed up to church! We invited them to class with us, but they declined saying they were "slowly working back into church!" Since then they've started going to all three hours of church and have received callings. They sit by us in nearly every class and seem to feel comfortable. Feels nice knowing you may have been a positive influence on helping someone return to the fold.

A few months ago I ran a half marathon, one that I had prepared for diligently for many months prior to the event. The start line is always an exciting time for me and as the first few miles unfolded that day, I made an attempt as I always do on staying mentally focused. At about the 10-mile mark, as often is the case, I found myself settled in with a group of runners who had about the same pace I did at that stage of the run.

One particular young lady at that point (she was probably half my age), touched me on the shoulder and asked me how I was doing (I must have looked in rough shape to her). I pulled out one of my earbuds and reassured her I was doing alright and felt good with about three miles to go. I returned the question and asked her how she was doing, to which she replied; "Great, I want to finish strong, and my goal at this point is to finish ahead of you!" I chuckled and said, "Well that shouldn't be difficult, as I am old, slow, and fat." She laughed at my comment, and then I added this statement as we continued running along the course, "But remember this young lady, keep in mind, that if you are running close to me with a quarter mile to go before the finish line, I have a nasty kick that will come into play." She laughed again and I put the earbud with music back in my ear.

As I continued to lumber along, I thought about her challenge to finish ahead of me and about my preparation for the race. I had run over 3,000 miles the previous year in Afghanistan virtually all on a treadmill—but at that time for a different reason—to keep up with the rigor of my military assignment in a combat zone. I thought about the endless hours of running I'd done since returning home leading up to this race where I had strapped on the running shoes and hit the pavement to pay the price leading up to this event. I thought about my commitment to be consistent and my effort to improve along the way. I thought about the days I didn't feel like running or working out, but forced myself to do so anyway, because I knew it would help me succeed in the end. I thought about the promise I made to myself to progress in earnest as the day of the run approached. I knew I had paid the price to succeed.

That said, sure enough at the final turn which indeed left about a quarter mile to the finish line, this young lady was still running next to me, and I asked her at that point if she was ready for my final kick, and she assured me that she was. I then turned on that nasty kick that I spoke of and by the time I crossed the finish line, she was about 100 meters in my rearview mirror.

By the way, I had a quick visit with the young lady when she finished a few seconds after me in the race and I gloated over my little victory for about 30 seconds—until I was reminded by a friend that there were over 2,000 runners who finished ahead of me—a lesson in staying humble and a talk for another day—but let me shift gears.

I began to really focus in on that guidance at my own inauguration when President Eyring, who was then vice chair of the board of trustees, said that there would come moments that would “appear to be crises.” He said that I would be at peace because of the course that had been set and maintained by the leaders who had gone before, which included Presidents Bateman and Samuelson but also included prophets, seers, and revelators.7

I saw that happen many times during my administration—none more obviously than in 2020 during the COVID-19 pandemic. There were a lot of decisions that had to be made, and we had to make decisions without full information, at least from a scientific viewpoint. I saw not only the administration receive inspiration but also the faculty. As I recall, we went from not having any COVID protocol when we talked about it on a Thursday to opening up the university with virtual learning options on the following Tuesday. I’m looking at President Reese—he was the academic vice president at the time we had this task.

It was a miracle. And keeping the school open throughout the pandemic was the result of inspiration that came directly from heaven.

[Taylor] missed his older brother and sister. They were in [school]. “I wish I could go to [school] too,” he said to [Mom]. “Next year,” [Mom] told him, “when you are five years old, you [can] go to [school]. Until then, you get to [be] my helper.” [Taylor] felt better. He liked helping [Mom]. “What are we going to do?” “We are going to [can] [tomatoes],” she said. “First we have to wash our [hands].” [Taylor] stood on a [stool] and washed his [hands] at the [sink]. “Now we wash the [jars].” After [Mom] washed the [jars], [Taylor] dried them. He carefully placed the clean [jars] on the counter. [Mom] placed a big [pot] of water on the [stove] to boil. [Taylor] helped [Mom] take the stems off the [tomatoes]. Then he sat at the [table] and watched [Mom] put the [tomatoes] in the hot water and then dip them in cold water. After she peeled the [tomatoes], she placed them in the [jars]. “Why do you [can] [tomatoes] each year?” he asked. “To put in our [food] storage,” [Mom] said. “Later on we will be doing [green beans], [peaches], and [pears].” [Taylor] remembered last year when his [dad] had not worked. The family ate [food ]from their storage for three months. [Taylor] really liked the canned [peaches]. “I am glad [Dad] has a job now,” [Taylor] said. “I am too, but we still need to keep adding to our [food] storage. The [prophet] has asked every family to have a year’s supply of [food],” [Mom] said. After watching [Mom] for a while, [Taylor] was sleepy. He brought his [quilt] and [pillow] from his bedroom and lay down on the floor. When he woke up, [Mom] was putting the [jars] of [tomatoes] on a shelf. The [tomatoes] sparkled like red [jewels]. That night in family [home] evening, the family sang, “Follow the [Prophet].”* After they sang the song, [Taylor] smiled and winked at [Mom]. He knew they had followed the [prophet] today.

The completion of the St. George Temple also reconfirmed the hope and desires of the Saints for finishing the “Great Temple” in the Salt Lake Valley. Lucy B. Young, a wife of Brigham Young, was called to serve in the St. George Temple to administer to the living and the dead. An official Church periodical stated, “How many times the sick and suffering have come … to [the] temple, and at once Sister Young would be called to take the afflicted one under immediate charge.” One sister who had not walked for a dozen years “was brought, and under the cheering faith of Sister Young she went through the day’s ordinance and was perfectly healed of her affliction.” Spiritual experiences such as this, coupled with their desire to fulfill biblical prophecy, impelled the Saints to complete the Salt Lake Temple.

I really appreciate the New Era recognizing how some of the stakes try to help the youth find a greater understanding of the Book of Mormon. I attended youth conference in Medicine Hat, and it will be a lifetime of memories. We almost left our shoes in the mud, and we also had other challenges such as a six-kilometer trek the first day while pulling our luggage on travois. But I guarantee that I will never forget those four days we spent reenacting the Book of Mormon in the “wilderness.” And I’m sure that anyone else who has experienced something similar to it will never forget it as well.
Krista LivingstoneMedicine Hat, Alberta, Canada (via e-mail)

I think now and then of one of our classmates—very bright, good looking, faithful in the Church, and drenched with talent and ability. He married well and rose quickly to prominence. He began to compromise to please the world and please those around him. They flattered him into following after their ways, which were the ways of the world.

Sometimes it is so simple a thing as how you groom yourself or what you wear, such as a young woman teasing her hair endlessly to give the impression that it has not been combed or a young man dressing in slouchy clothes, wanting to be in style.

Somewhere in little things, my classmate’s grasp on the iron rod loosened a bit. His wife held on to the rod with one hand and on to him with the other. Finally, he slipped away from her and let go of the rod. Just as Lehi’s dream or vision predicted, he fell away into forbidden paths and was lost.

It was just before dawn. Slowly the anxious moments ticked by for the American soldiers who waited in boats for the signal that would start their battle. They were trying to take one of the Japanese island bases in the Pacific during World War II. In one of the boats were two young Latter-day Saint marines.
At twenty minutes to six, the signal came to start firing. Suddenly it was as though the island base and all the boats waiting to attack exploded into flame and fire. Dive bombers dropped their loads, machine guns cut down the men who started wading toward shore, and the island base of Kwajalein seemed to heave and roll with the fury of the battle.
The two marines were hit in the first wave of gunfire and one was very badly wounded. The other, who was less seriously hurt, held the head of his comrade above water until help came. Finally, a United Press newspaperman and some medics found them both in the water. They tried to give first aid to the least injured boy, but he refused help until his buddy was checked. The rescuers thought the boy was too badly hurt to ever recover. A war correspondent wrote the rest of the story on February 8, 1944.
“Then it happened. This young man, the stronger of the two, bronzed by the tropical sun, clean as a shark’s tooth in the South Seas, slowly got to his knees. His own arm was nearly gone, but with the other, he lifted the head of his unconscious pal into his lap, placed his good hand on the other’s pale brow and uttered what to us seemed to be incredible words—words that to this moment are emblazoned in unforgettable letters across the doorway of my memory:
“In the name of Jesus Christ, and by virtue of the holy priesthood which I hold, I command you to remain alive until the necessary help can be obtained to secure the preservation of your life.’”
The two young marines were later taken to a hospital with the newspaper reporter who concluded his story in this way:
“The three of us are here in Honolulu and today we walked down the beach together. … He is the wonder of the medical unit, for—they say—he should be dead. Why he isn’t they don’t know—but we do—for we were there, off the shores of Kwajalein.”

Thank you for printing “The Joy Is in Becoming” in the June New Era. The message is truly inspired, and I believe it with all my heart. One thought the article expressed that I feel is really important is that we never know when we are going to run into a nonmember. When we do, it might be the only contact that person has ever had with a Latter-day Saint. It is so important that we always be prepared (dressed modestly and neatly) to represent the Church.
While in California a month ago, my girlfriend and I went to Disneyland. Not being used to such hot weather, we were very tempted to wear shorts and tank tops. But we talked to my friend’s father and decided that it was better to be hot than to disobey a commandment. We soon became very grateful for that decision.
While we were there we met two guys from Norway. We were the first Mormons they had met, and we were able to do some missionary work. I know we couldn’t have done it if we were dressed improperly. We knew we had made a wise decision when they said, “Mormons are very decent people.”
Kathy BarlowSalt Lake City, Utah

One of the great examples of acquiring invisible possessions of priceless value comes from the dramatic story told of Zion’s Camp. The Missouri Saints were expelled from Jackson County in late November 1833. Four months and twelve days later, 24 February 1834, Joseph Smith was instructed to organize an army to restore the Saints to their rightful ownership of land in Jackson County. The group would march 1,000 miles in four months. They would suffer sickness, deprivation, and severe testing of every physical kind.

Heber C. Kimball said, “I took leave of my wife and children and friends, not knowing whether I would see them again in the flesh.” It was not unusual for them to march thirty-five miles a day, despite blistered feet, oppressive heat, heavy rains, high humidity, hunger, and thirst. Armed guards were posted around the camp at night. At 4:00 a.m. the trumpeter roused the weary men with reveille on an old, battered French horn. Zion’s Camp failed to help the Missouri Saints regain their lands and was marred by some dissension, apostasy, and unfavorable publicity, but a number of positive results came from the journey. Zion’s Camp chastened, polished, and spiritually refined many of the Lord’s servants. When a skeptic asked what he had gained from his journey, Brigham Young promptly replied, “I would not exchange the knowledge I have received this season for the whole of Geauga County” (“Church History in the Fulness of Times,” prepared by the Church Educational System, Salt Lake City, Utah, pp. 143–51).

From among the members of Zion’s Camp the Lord selected those who would lead his church during the next five decades. From the viewpoint of preparation, the Zion’s Camp experiences proved to be of infinite value during the formative years of the Church. Those Saints were tried and tested. They learned what they stood for, what they were willing to live and die for, and what was of highest value.

In the marvelous experience of Brigham Young in February of 1847, when the Prophet Joseph appeared to him in a dream or vision, Brigham pleaded to be reunited with the Prophet. Brigham Young asked the Prophet if he had a message for the Brethren. The Prophet said:
“Tell the people to be humble and faithful, and be sure to keep the spirit of the Lord and it will lead them right. Be careful and not turn away the small still voice; it will teach you what to do and where to go; it will yield the fruits of the kingdom. Tell the brethren to keep their hearts open to conviction, so that when the Holy Ghost comes to them, their hearts will be ready to receive it.”
The Prophet further directed Brigham Young as follows: “They can tell the Spirit of the Lord from all other spirits; it will whisper peace and joy to their souls; it will take malice, hatred, strife and all evil from their hearts; and their whole desire will be to do good, bring forth righteousness and build up the kingdom of God” (Manuscript History of Brigham Young, 1846–1847, compiled by Elden J. Watson, Salt Lake City, 1971, page 529).

Moving pipe! The words filled me with dread. My thoughts turned to a few months earlier when mom had insisted that I get a summer job. In our small town, that meant pretty much one thing—moving pipe. So all summer, my cousin Scott and I were moving pipes.
On the first day of our summer job, we stood gazing across a vast landscape of green alfalfa. The 40-foot-long (12 m) pipes were linked together in a straight line that seemed to stretch out for miles. After a short training, Scott and I disconnected our first pipe. Scott lifted his end up, and cold water splashed all over my tennis shoes. We hefted the pipe through sticky mud and reconnected it at the next riser. As we walked back for the next pipe, my sloshing shoes became heavier as mud clung to them in ever-thickening layers. Eventually, the mud, water, and our own perspiration drenched our clothes and spirits.
My thoughts returned to volunteering at the Church farm. “Well, I—I don’t think I can come,” I stammered. “I have to go to my own job every morning.”
“That’s no problem,” assured Brother Hulet. “We always go to the Church farm in the afternoons.” Brother Hulet passed around the sign-up list. “When each one of you was ordained to the priesthood, you were given the power to act in the name of God. And when we serve Him by serving others, we are acting in His name. Besides, with all of us helping, the work won’t seem hard at all.”
The list was passed to me. I couldn’t believe that, so far, everyone had signed up to go every day this week. Didn’t they know how miserable this was going to be? I felt a great weight of righteous peer pressure exerted on me. Grudgingly, I signed up and passed it on.
Monday afternoon, I sat in my room recuperating from the morning’s work when I heard Brother Hulet honking his horn outside. I hesitated for a moment before changing back into my smelly, damp work clothes.
We soon pulled into the Church farm. Everyone but me raced toward the field. I lagged behind, head down, kicking rocks, when I was surprised by a hand on my shoulder. “Thanks for coming with us,” Brother Hulet encouraged. “I know you worked hard this morning.” We walked together in silence for a few moments. Then he ran ahead to organize the group.
I watched him and thought about what he had said to me. I had worked hard that morning. I was tired and smelly, and I wanted to go home. But what about Brother Hulet? He had worked hard that morning too. So had all the guys, for that matter. So why did they seem happy to be here?
I caught up to the others, and we began our work. At first, I tried to cheer myself up by thinking of the noble sacrifice I was making. But soon my self-absorbed thoughts ended, and I noticed how quickly we were moving with everyone helping. We laughed and talked, and suddenly I realized I was actually having fun! In a few short hours we had completed our assignment.
As we rode home, I realized that what I thought was going to be an unbearable sacrifice seemed small. In fact, with everyone helping, it seemed like no sacrifice at all.
Brother Hulet stopped his station wagon in front of my house and looked back at me. “Thanks for your help today. Your hard work made it easy for the rest of us.” He smiled and winked.
I grinned back. “Thanks, but all of us helping together was what made it easy.” I climbed out of the car and closed the door.
Brother Hulet put the car in gear and began to pull away. “See you tomorrow, then?” he called through the open window.
“Sure. See you tomorrow,” I said.

John Halliday’s name appears on several documents relating to the Church in Wiltshire in the middle of the nineteenth century. Born in Trowbridge in 1819, he was the oldest child of Stephen and Jane Halliday. In 1836 he emigrated to America. Sometime between 1836 and 1842 he was baptised a member of the Church.
Sometime in 1844 John was sent back to Britain as a missionary, bringing his wife, Emily, and their youngest child with him. They would remain in Britain until the spring of 1850.
Two main sources provide information on John’s activities during those years: the Millennial Star and records from Salisbury Diocese, which detail applications to register ‘dissenter’ places of worship. ‘Dissenters’ were any denomination other than the Church of England.
The following applications were made by John Halliday to register places of worship in Wiltshire: [Table 1 Inserted as image)
Steeple Ashton was something of a stronghold of the Church in the mid-nineteenth century, as shown by the number of different locations registered for worship, and several histories have been written about the village residents who converted.1 As the list also shows, meeting places were most commonly family homes, particularly in villages. Many of the early converts emigrated, so by the end of the century most of the branches had been disbanded and no purpose-built Church meetinghouses are known to have existed in Wiltshire until the twentieth century.
John Halliday made the applications to register places of worship for the Church because of the leadership role he held in the area during his missionary service. Halliday was responsible for a total membership of 350 spread across eleven congregations, in three counties.
In May 1848 Halliday reported continuing success in a letter to Orson Spencer, then president of the British LDS mission. The letter was printed in the Star:
“Indeed I have never travelled so much and preached so often with so much satisfaction since my arrival in England; and what is better, I have never felt in better spirits for the battle, either in-doors or out in the public Market-place.“2
In October of the same year, he also reported:
“Large additions have been made to the kingdom of our God. I think we have baptized since conference over 100, and the elders and officers feel ripe and ready for the harvesting.”3
The work of John Halliday and his fellow missionaries, with the associated growth in Church membership, did not go unnoticed or unopposed. Writing to Franklin D. Richards (1821–1899) in December 1847, Halliday stated, “Since I wrote last to you, the officers of the law have interfered in our behalf, and last week we had quietness again,”4 showing that opposition was serious enough for Church members to seek police protection to be able to worship as they pleased.
John Halliday was central to the mission and growth of the Church in Wiltshire in the mid-nineteenth century. He was evidently a man of faith and conviction, and was willing to put that conviction to work, to help spread the good news of the restored gospel which he and his wife and brother had embraced. He was still a young man when he died, but we can say with some certainty that a wish he expressed in May 1848 was fulfilled: “My prayer to God is, that I may continue faithful.”5

I believed the words of the prophet Malachi when he said that the Lord pours out blessings to those who pay tithing (see Mal. 3:10). I had no problem believing that. But when it came to actually paying my tithing, I had trouble.
On payday I would set aside money for tithing. However, my payday often came in the middle of the week, and when I needed money later in the week I would “borrow” money from my tithing. I always told myself I would replace the money and give my tithing to the bishop on Sunday, but this plan didn’t work. Usually I was unable to return the money, so I would plan to pay the tithing I owed from my next paycheck. I tried to do this, but then very little would be left of my paycheck! Things went on like this for almost the whole first year I earned my own income.
Then one day I had a realization. A sales representative came to our house. He explained that I could pay for an appliance on an installment plan—receiving the item now and paying for it later. As he spoke, a question entered my mind: “Does the Lord give blessings on an installment plan?”
The next day in my institute class, a verse of scripture we discussed answered my question: “I, the Lord, am bound when ye do what I say; but when ye do not what I say, ye have no promise” (D&C 82:10).
Every commandment brings blessings—and always in full. But we must keep the commandment, not just plan to keep it. That night I prayed for forgiveness for paying my tithes in such a lazy manner.
Now that I am paying my tithing faithfully, my life seems better. And I have found that I am happier living on 90 percent of my money with the Lord’s blessings than I ever was living on 100 percent of my money without them.

Lee W. Johnson, who was at the time Cubmaster of Pack 218, rescued his brother from underneath a fallen haystack. “My brother was covered by a haystack four feet deep and about 20 feet square. Where do you dig? In my mind a voice said, ‘Over here.’ I dug to within six inches of my unconscious brother, and the voice said, ‘Throw the pitch fork away.’ And there he was. You have to give somebody besides myself credit for something like that.” Brother Johnson is in the Benson Ward, Benson Utah Stake.
Brent advised hikers to always travel with a partner and not to take shortcuts. “Stay on the trail or you’ll get in trouble,” he said. Daniel warned swimmers to know the water they’re swimming in and not to swim in conditions beyond their capability. Kristin advised everyone to learn how to swim and to become familiar with lifesaving techniques. Brother Crockett advised those who find themselves in an emergency to do something, rather than just watch, which complemented Brother Johnson’s advice to “be quick and alert, but think things out before you act. Keep calm and don’t panic. Move as quickly as possible and listen for guidance from the Lord.” Mike Poppleton said Scouts should pay attention during classes on lifesaving techniques so that when an emergency does arise, they’ll be able to think of what to do. And the entire group agreed that proper training is vital and that people should be careful about what they do if they have had no training.
But perhaps it was Brother Johnson who summed up the most common sentiment: “It was a spiritual experience,” he said, “but I wouldn’t want another one of this kind.”