Gospel Story Finder

I am sure that the skills and discipline and soul-power that result from overcoming the challenge of material shortages open the door for extraordinary blessings. I offer one small personal example. As poor graduate students in Chicago, my wife and I did not have the resources to telephone home, except for very short calls on special holidays. We had to keep in touch by long, weekly letters, which each of us typed to both sets of parents each week. The composition of those letters developed writing skills that have blessed each of our lives for the ensuing forty-some years. We would have been deprived of a blessing of significant growth if we could have simply picked up the telephone and communicated in the almost effortless and sometimes almost thoughtless way that would have been available if we had had more money. I am an advocate of letters among loved ones, and my preference has been reinforced as I have written family histories and rejoiced in the details of loved one’s lives that have been preserved in writing rather than lost on some electronic highway.

To illustrate how to use this tool, I am going to tell you about a situation where I used it in a non-business setting. When my son was in third grade, I believe, I was asked to coach his community league basketball team because they had a few more boys than they expected and needed one more coach for these boys. These were not the boys who were fought over by the other coaches. They were the ones who for one reason or another signed up late and needed a coach. I called a practice and had the boys just shoot around for the first five or 10 minutes so I could see what I had to work with.

As I watched, I became a little concerned. They made almost no shots, they weren't even being guarded, and I could see that they weren't very tall. They couldn't dribble the ball very well either. All I could see was weaknesses. I thought, "This is going to be a long season." I wondered why I ever agreed to coach this team. But I had agreed to coach them, so I tried hard to look for strengths. Eventually I noticed a few of the boys were quite quick, which was about the only strength I could find.

At this point, I had a long list of weaknesses and only one strength, so mentally I turned to the opportunities and threats part of the tool. I had to go on my knowledge of and assumptions about the other teams. I was sure many of the other boys could shoot much better (a threat) and had to be taller (another threat), but I was also sure that at that age, they couldn't dribble the ball too well. There was my opportunity. We could capitalize on their inability to handle the ball. I decided to match our quickness strength with the lack of ball handling ability of the other teams to come up with a strategy. In practice, we focused almost entirely on stealing the ball, dribbling it down the court, and making layups. The zone defense we used was one designed to steal the ball, but it wasn't very good if the other team got the ball into the middle to the "big" players.

We worked on other areas of the game minimally but mostly focused those three things--stealing the ball, dribbling, and making layups. As it turned out, our boys did quite well. When the other team passed half court, our boys went into "attack mode." More often than not, they stole the ball, dribbled down court, and missed their layup. But sometimes they made it. This little team of vertically challenged boys who couldn't shoot too well won all their games but one. They took what they had, matched it with attractive opportunities, and made the best of their basketball season.

In the 1960s, my family was an early casualty in the demise of the small American farm. Times were grim and we had no choice but to move—with our herd of about 20 dairy cattle—from a 40-acre spread to a five-acre, semi-urban lot with barely enough room for our large family and our cows. We felt fortunate when we had the bare essentials. We were literally dirt poor and the only “farm kids” in our community and ward.
As a new deacon, I desperately wanted to fit in, but it was difficult. I dressed funny and didn’t have the freedom of the city kids because of my responsibilities to help run the dairy. But several special people extended kindness to me.
One of the great adventures of my youth was a winter camp for our group of Scouts. It was a cold, cold winter, so special preparation was needed. The boys bought insulated boots—except for me. We had no money. I pleaded and negotiated with my father. I even asked him to sell a cow to obtain money for boots.
But there was no way. Having survived even colder winters in his youth, my father learned some important tricks. He took me to the barn and showed me how to wrap burlap sacks around my leather shoes for insulation and for a semblance of waterproofing. How appalling! No way would I use them. I’d rather freeze. But Dad insisted that I pack the burlap. I buried them as deep as possible in my bag.
Off to the mountains and the snow camp. We had a great time, but it became bitterly cold. Our common quest became staying warm. I was especially suffering because my leather shoes were now wet. Overnight they had frozen solid.
I knew I could no longer avoid using the burlap, so I went to the tent and lashed the sacks around my frozen shoes. My feet felt better immediately. But walking out of the tent was one of the worst moments of my life. The ridicule was instant and predictable. I was the laughingstock of the camp, and I felt just terrible.
At the depth of my humiliation, my very cool deacons quorum president, Kyle Blacker, came up to me and asked if I had any more burlap. I did! He asked me how to wrap his boots. In that instant, Kyle deflected the ridicule, and I became the second-coolest boy in camp because of his gesture.
I don’t know if Kyle remembers me or his gesture. It was a little thing to everyone but me. To me it was huge. I learned more of goodness and charity in that moment than at any other time in my life. I learned more about humility, kindness, meekness, lack of guile, and gentleness from Kyle than anyone else has ever taught me. I hope his feet were warm for the rest of the day. He lifted me, and I’ve had the warmth of confidence every day of my life since then. We moved again not long thereafter, and I did not keep in touch with Kyle.
I have served as bishop for several years. In my work with youth I have been blessed by my memory of Kyle’s kindness. The greatest application of the lesson I learned has been in my role as a father. My wife and I are blessed with wonderful children, and one of our sons is named Kyle.

Being on the receiving end of such uncharacteristic kindness can change lives. In Naju, sixteen-year-old Seo Jin Oo is alive today, thanks to the faith and love of his family and dozens of gospel friends.
Jin Oo was at school, studying during a recess break, when a classmate flew into a rage and hit him on the head with a club. Dazed but still conscious, Jin Oo moved to the back of the classroom, where he fell unconscious to the floor.
For the Seo family, the next thirteen days were filled with blessings, prayers, and round-the-clock vigils. The summer weather was blistering hot, the hospital was not air-conditioned, and there were few nurses. Jin Oo’s parents, Seo Young Won and Kim Kyung Ja, were responsible for keeping their son’s temperature down by continually applying cool towels to his feverish body.
“There was always a member or a missionary there,” recalls Brother Seo. Members traveled to the hospital to give Jin Oo’s parents much-needed breaks. Jin Oo’s name was put on the prayer roll in the Seoul temple, and members throughout the Kwangju stake held special fasts.
“The doctors and nurses tried to prepare us for his death,” Sister Kim observes. “But we kept on hoping. We had faith.”
After two surgeries, Jin Oo awoke from the coma and, contrary to doctors’ predictions, has suffered no brain damage or lasting effects from the incident.
“It was an extremely emotional time for us,” says Sister Kim. “But we certainly learned what really mattered and where we could turn for help. Jin Oo’s experience has strengthened us as a family and as a branch. We’re closer, more unified, and more aware of others and their needs. We really do have a greater determination to love and serve others.”

Let me share with you one example.
When I was nineteen years old, I was called to serve in the Korea Pusan Mission. While at the MTC, I struggled with discouragement. I was away from home trying to learn a challenging language and I felt that I wasn’t doing very well at it. As I was wrestling with these feelings of inadequacy, I read in the Doctrine and Covenants these words:
“Wherefore, be of good cheer, and do not fear, for I the Lord am with you, and will stand by you; and ye shall bear record of me, even Jesus Christ, that I am the Son of the living God, that I was, that I am, and that I am to come.” [4]
When I read those words, it was as if the Lord was speaking directly to me. I felt the Lord’s love and support. It was just what I needed. Through experiences like this, I know that He is devoted to us!

I remember a woman who constantly nagged her husband (an inactive elder) about not paying his tithing, saying again and again, “When you don’t pay your tithing, you deny me and the children the blessings that are associated with this commandment … I want those blessings, even if you don’t.” She became so irate and her marriage became so disturbed over this issue that she went to the bishop trying to get his aid in forcing her husband to pay tithing. The bishop’s response was, “Overall your husband is basically a good and righteous man. If you sustain him in righteousness, even in his judgment not to pay tithing at this time, the Lord will sustain you, and you will be obeying God’s commandments and will not miss out on any of the blessings.” When the husband later learned of this bishop’s counsel, he was so deeply affected and impressed that his Church activity increased and the marital relationship was much improved.

Rain poured from the sky as Katie dashed from under the awning of Fitzgerald’s. She vaulted into the passenger seat of the car waiting at the curb with her brother, Mike, at the wheel.
“It would start to rain as I get off work,” Katie said dismally, flipping down the visor mirror to stare at her sodden hair.
Mike laughed at the face she was making and pulled into traffic.
“Oh! I almost forgot,” Katie said. “Fitzgerald’s is having a sale on men’s white dress shirts—in case you need a few more for your collection.”
“I think Mom bought three or four dozen. Do you think 10 ties is enough?”
“I’d better send you some for Christmas.”
“Don’t forget socks,” Mike reminded her. “And cookies.”
“They’ll be stale by the time they get to Brazil.”
“I can’t go two years without chocolate chip cookies.”
Katie said softly, “I can’t believe you’re going to be gone in a week.”
Mike pulled into their driveway. The rain kept falling. “Gotta make a run for it,” he said.
Katie reached out a hand. “No, Mike, wait. You know, this might be our last chance to talk.”
“You mean you’re never going to speak to me again?” Mike asked in mock horror.
“You know what I mean. Tomorrow Dad’s taking you fishing. Sunday is the farewell, Monday is the good-bye party, and Tuesday you drive to Utah while I work.”
Katie’s eyes blurred as she looked through the drumming rain. She and Mike were only 11 months apart and had grown up practically like twins. They had run track together, fished, camped, had the same friends, and gone to Saturday night dances together. When no one else would listen, Mike always did. But now it was hard to express what she wanted to ask him.
“What’s up, Katie?”
“It’s just … why are you going on a mission?”
“Well,” he began, “I’ve taken the missionary prep class, gone on splits with the full-time elders, saved my money …” He stopped. “I guess that doesn’t really answer the question, huh? I’m going because I’ve got a testimony of the gospel. Does that sound too spiritual?”
Katie shook her head. “You really have a testimony? No doubts, nothing?”
He looked at her questioningly. “I’ve never had doubts; neither have you. Hey, you’ve been Laurel class president.”
“Being the Laurel class president doesn’t automatically give you a testimony.”
Mike stared at her in disbelief. “We’ve been together our whole lives: church, seminary, sunrise testimony meetings; of course you have a testimony.”
Katie’s voice shook. “No, I don’t Mike.” I’ve never told this to anyone, but I really don’t know. How can people say they know?”
“I can’t believe you’re saying this,” Mike said softly.
“Don’t look so shocked, Michael. It’s not the end of the world.”
“How can you go on a mission or get married in the temple? All the big things, I just don’t get it.”
“I’m not planning on getting married next month.”
Mike shook his head. “Your testimony is the most important thing in the world.”
“But what is a testimony?” she challenged.
Meeting the rise in her voice, he quickly said, “A knowledge and belief that the Church is true.”
“How do you get it?”
“Through study, prayer, fasting.”
“The usual, typical answers. Is that how you got it?”
“Of course.”
“How did you know?”
“I just felt it. I’ve always known.”
“But what does it feel like?”
He sighed. “I don’t know how to explain.”
“No one can tell me. Not my seminary teacher, not my leaders, and not you.”
“I thought I knew you better than anyone else, and now it’s like I don’t.”
Katie bit her lip. “You’re not helping me. You’re only making me feel bad.”
“But you have to have a testimony,” he insisted.
“Right.” She opened the car door. “Out of everybody in this world, I thought you’d be the one to listen and understand. I wish I hadn’t brought it up.” Katie got out of the car and slammed the door.
The next morning, Katie stayed in bed until after Dad and Mike had left for the lake. When she came downstairs, she found her mother at the kitchen table eating breakfast.
“I’m just wondering what’s up between you and Mike?” Mom said.
Katie became wary. “Nothing.”
“Actually,” Mom confessed, “Mike told us about your conversation last night.”
Katie set down the milk. “He had no right to tell you that! I confided in him.”
“You’ve been so close. I think he was very shaken by what you told him,” Mom said soothingly.
“Now my whole family thinks I’m apostatizing.”
“I never knew you had concerns about your feelings. I wish you had come to Dad and me.”
“It seems like everybody has a testimony, except me. I thought I was weird or something.”
Mom was thoughtful. “There are probably more people in your shoes than you realize, especially teenagers. We’re not born with a testimony. It takes time, lots of prayer, and seeking for the Spirit. Growing up in the Church can make it harder because it’s always around you. From the time you’re in nursery, it’s something you hear about and learn about every day. It might be harder to recognize because it’s so much a part of you.”
“You’re probably right,” Katie admitted.
Mom leaned forward. “Of course, I don’t recommend going out in the world and ignoring your standards just to see how other people live. Your father and I did that before the missionaries came to our door 20 years ago. We had even decided not to have children.”
“I didn’t know that,” Katie said.
“It’s a sad way to live. When I felt the Holy Ghost bearing the truth to my heart that what the elders were telling me was true, it was so different from anything I’d ever felt, I didn’t have any doubts it was from God.”
“I wish I could have that,” Katie said. “But sometimes I don’t think I feel anything.”
“You might be feeling more than you realize. It just takes careful listening. Having a desire to know is the first step. It will come if you seek it. Jesus Christ himself told us that.”
Even after talking with her mother, Katie had a hard time feeling forgiveness toward Mike. She felt like he’d betrayed her deepest feelings. On Tuesday morning she stood barefoot in the damp grass and saw her family off. She hugged Mom and Dad, then stood awkwardly as Mike put his arms around her and squeezed her.
He whispered, “Please don’t be mad anymore. I need your love to make it the next two years. Write to me, okay?”
She nodded, unable to speak. The car pulled away, and Dad tooted the horn.
She was alone. Even though she had to work every day until her parents returned, the next few days would be time by herself. Time to really think, meditate, read, pray and hopefully get some answers.
She went into the house and grabbed her scriptures. A testimony of the gospel, of the Church. It sounded trite, somehow, and that had always bothered her. There were so many doctrines to have a testimony of. What did it really mean?
She turned to the Topical Guide under testimony and testify and read until she had to get ready for work. The basic foundation was a testimony of Jesus Christ, which made sense. That’s where she needed to start.
A few minutes after Katie checked in at work, she was throwing a pile of newspapers out when a headline in the metro section caught her eye: “Top 10 Reasons People Pick Their Church.” She put it in her purse.
The words ran through her mind. How could there be more than one or two reasons people decide which church to join? Wasn’t the church’s beliefs and doctrine the most important thing?
After her shift, Katie spread open the article. A journalist had conducted a local survey among members of various churches and asked them to list the reasons they had chosen the church they currently attended. The results had been listed in order of the most popular.
The church had a good day-care center close to work.
The church had a good preschool or private school.
The church was close to where they lived.
Their friends attended that church.
They liked the beauty of the church.
The church had a good choir they wanted to join.
The church had a youth program.
They had grown up attending that church.
They liked the minister.
They agreed with the doctrines or beliefs.
Katie set down the paper. Incredible. What she had assumed to be the number one reason was actually the last reason people in her community picked their church.
Had she been going to church because of social reasons and not because of a testimony? But it wasn’t because she didn’t want a testimony. She did. It just seemed like such an elusive thing. She almost felt guilty that she would be going to BYU without a testimony.
Every night that week she lay in bed thinking about the Savior, the scriptures she had read, and her pleading prayers for answers. After several days Katie finally felt the troubled, worried feelings disappearing. She knew she was beginning to feel peace. Her testimony would come, just as Mom said it would. She had to have confidence in the Lord.
Katie sat up and switched on the lamp. She picked up her scriptures and went back to section 9 of the Doctrine and Covenants. She’d read the verses about having a burning in her heart so often she had it memorized. Why couldn’t she have that burning?
Slowly she turned the pages, reading verses at random. Section 6 caught her eye. The Lord was speaking to Oliver Cowdery. “Cast your mind upon the night that you cried unto me in your heart, that you might know concerning the truth of these things. Did I not speak peace to your mind concerning the matter? What greater witness can you have than from God?” (D&C 6:22–23).
Katie sank back against the pillows. She knew she had felt peace. And now she knew it was from God. She glanced down at the page and another passage seemed to strike at her heart: “Be faithful and diligent in keeping the commandments of God, and I will encircle thee in the arms of my love. Behold, I am Jesus Christ, the Son of God” (D&C 6:20–21).
Oh, to feel the love of the Savior as if she were encircled by his arms! Tears came to her eyes as she thought about Mike. She shouldn’t have let him go without telling him she loved him. She thought he had betrayed her, but now she realized that she had deserted him also.
It was almost midnight, but she couldn’t go to sleep. She grabbed her pen and started to write.
Dear Mike, I’ve finally had some questions answered. Probably the best person answered them, too. The one that counts. Maybe I wanted to be struck by lightning or have a revelation or something. But it was even better than that. Now I can know deep inside my heart, where it will never leave.
I’m sorry for how I acted when you left for Utah. I guess I was angry with you for breaking my confidence, but now I know I hurt you also and I wish I could go back and re-do all your last days at home. Would you please forgive me? I do know that you’re going to be a great missionary, and I’m rooting for you! With all my love, Your sis, Katie.
She folded the letter, got in her pajamas, and went to find her brother’s address.

At our next stake high council meeting, a brother told us he had two sons eligible to serve missions. One had a desire to serve the Lord, the other did not. This son, Sione, had been living in the States, had a girlfriend, and said he had not received an answer to his prayers as to whether he should serve a mission.
In the same spirit as Alma, and with tears in his eyes, this father asked if we would pray for Sione to receive an answer from the Lord.
Like everyone, I continued to pray, and to fast for this young man.
I awoke early one Saturday morning and lay pondering when I had a most amazing and humbling experience. A vision of Sione came to my mind. I was instructed to visit with him the next day, after my daily duties were completed. The vision unfolded and I was given specific questions to ask Sione. And I heard what his answers would be, and how I was to respond to him. The message was clear and specific.
That evening, I opened my fast and prayed everything in the vision would remain clear so I could complete the assignment I had been given.
I attended a ward conference the following day, conducted some interviews then headed to my car. As I drove from the chapel, the Spirit reminded me of my assignment. In a strange but spiritual way, I saw again the vision I had received the day before.
Arriving at the family’s home, I knocked on the door and was told their dad was overseas, but that Mum was home. When Mum came to the door, I asked if I could meet with her and Sione. He was busy cooking dinner. Mum invited me in and the three of us sat in the lounge and talked.
I asked Sione to offer a prayer and immediately the vision unfolded as clearly as it had the previous day.
I asked Sione what he thought about serving a mission? Word for word, he answered as I saw in the vision. He explained he wasn’t sure if he should serve a mission; that he had pondered and prayed but didn’t think he’d received an answer. I enquired if he had a patriarchal blessing. He said, “yes”. I asked, “What does your patriarchal blessing say?” He replied, “I will serve a mission”.
Exactly as I had been instructed, I inquired, “How does the Lord answer prayers?” Sione struggled, but then shared his thoughts. Strengthened by the Spirit and in an emotional and humble attitude, I said, “I have been instructed by the Lord, Jesus Christ, through revelation, to come and visit with you today. I testify to you that prayers are answered by feelings, impressions, reading the scriptures and many other ways. Today I am here on behalf of the Saviour, Jesus Christ, in answer to your prayer and to remove all confusion and doubt. Sione, the Saviour invites you to serve a mission. He has a work for you to do and it is a work that only Elder Hala can do as there is someone special waiting for you to invite into the waters of baptism”. This is where the vision ended.
I asked how he felt. He bowed his head and cried, “My prayer has been answered and I want to serve a mission”.
Brother Hala will soon complete his medical and dental checks then submit his mission application. Modern miracles really do happen when we put our trust in the Lord Jesus Christ.

Many years ago I worked for a railroad in the central offices in Denver. I was in charge of what is called head-end traffic. That was in the days when nearly everyone rode passenger trains. One morning I received a call from my counterpart in Newark, New Jersey. He said, “Train number such-and-such has arrived, but it has no baggage car. Somewhere, 300 passengers have lost their baggage, and they are mad.”

I went immediately to work to find out where it may have gone. I found it had been properly loaded and properly trained in Oakland, California. It had been moved to our railroad in Salt Lake City, been carried to Denver, down to Pueblo, put on another line, and moved to St. Louis. There it was to be handled by another railroad which would take it to Newark, New Jersey. But some thoughtless switchman in the St. Louis yards moved a small piece of steel just 7.5 centimeters, a switch point, then pulled the lever to uncouple the car. We discovered that a baggage car that belonged in Newark, New Jersey, was in fact in New Orleans, Louisiana—2,400 kilometers from its destination. Just the 7.5-centimeter movement of the switch in the St. Louis yard by a careless employee had started it on the wrong track, and the distance from its true destination increased dramatically. That is the way it is with our lives. Instead of following a steady course, we are pulled by some mistaken idea in another direction. The movement away from our original destination may be ever so small, but, if continued, that very small movement becomes a great gap and we find ourselves far from where we intended to go.

“Sarah, would you like to sing in a program?” asked Ms. Gardner, Sarah’s voice teacher.
“I’d love to!” Sarah said.
“It will be good for you to sing in front of others,” Ms. Gardner said, writing in her notebook. “The program is at the end of August, so you’ll have all summer to get ready.”
Sarah told her parents about the program as soon as she got home. She called her grandparents right after dinner. She was so happy!
At her next lesson, Sarah and Ms. Gardner picked out two songs for the program. One song was from an opera, and the other was from a musical play. Then Sarah got to work.
She practiced her songs with Ms. Gardner. And she practiced at home every day. Soon she had her songs memorized. Still, she kept working.
Finally, the day of the program came. Sarah got ready. She put on her blue dress. She brushed her hair. Then she knelt by her bed and asked for Heavenly Father’s help.
Soon they were on their way to the program. “Are you scared?” her mom asked.
Sarah shook her head. “I know the songs so well I could sing them backward!”
Mom smiled. “You’ve practiced really hard this summer.”
When they got to the program, Sarah sat next to her parents and grandparents. Her friend Megan was the first to sing. Evan sang next. Sarah and the rest of the audience clapped after each song.
When it was Sarah’s turn, she took a big breath and walked to the microphone. She sang the first song perfectly. Ms. Gardner smiled at her. Then Sarah started the second song.
It was all going well until she got to the chorus. And then it happened. She forgot the words! Her mind went completely blank. She looked nervously at the audience and motioned to the pianist to stop.
“I’m sorry,” Sarah said. “I’d like to start again.”
Her hands were a little sweaty. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest. She took another deep breath, nodded to the pianist, and began again.
This time, she remembered all the words. The audience clapped when she finished. Sarah smiled, but she was embarrassed.
After the program, Sarah found her teacher.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Gardner,” she said. “I really messed up.”
“Not at all, Sarah,” her teacher said. “You lost your place. That can happen to anyone. The important thing is that you carried on.”
“That’s right,” Grandma said, joining them. “We’re so proud of you.”
That night, Sarah thought about the program. She still felt bad about messing up. But Ms. Gardner was right. Sarah had carried on. She could be proud of that.
It’s a lot like repentance, she thought.
“Hey, Mom!” Sarah called, running to her parents’ bedroom. “I figured out that the program is like life.”
“How’s that, sweetie?” Mom asked. Sarah flopped onto the bed next to Mom.
“I made a mistake in my solo, but I fixed it and moved on. In life, when I make a wrong choice, I can fix it by repenting. Then I can move on and do better.”
“You know, that sounds like a great theme for home evening,” Mom said. “Want to give the lesson?”
“Sure!” Sarah said. She couldn’t wait to share what she had learned.
Have you set a goal to learn something new?
If you make a mistake, keep trying!
This story took place in the USA.

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.

One night when our children were younger, we were having family scripture time. We read about the Savior and talked about how He never made any mistakes.
Later that night my wife tucked our three-year-old daughter, Susie, into bed. Susie looked up at her mother and said, “Mummy, Jesus did make a mistake.”
“What do you mean?” her mother asked.
“He broke something,” Susie said.
Somewhat puzzled, her mother asked, “What did He break?”
“Jesus broke the bands of death,” Susie answered.
My wife realized that she and Susie had sung the Primary song “On a Golden Springtime” many times, and Susie had learned the words “On a golden springtime, Jesus Christ awoke and left the tomb where He had lain; the bands of death He broke.”1 Susie’s mother explained that breaking the bands of death means that Jesus was resurrected so that we can all live again after we die.
That conversation has given my wife and me many opportunities to teach our daughters, Lizzie, Susie, and Emma, about what the Atonement really means for each of us. Susie was right: Jesus did break the bands of death. But it wasn’t a mistake. It was the greatest gift He could give us! (See Doctrine and Covenants 14:7.)

Taylor loved Elder Turley and Elder Junker (Yewn-kur), the missionaries assigned to her ward. She especially loved having them over for dinner.
Elder Turley was tall and slender. His head almost touched the ceiling in Taylor’s living room, and he had to duck when he came through the front door. He had a Book of Mormon with colorful sticker pictures in it. He would flip through the pages, telling Taylor the stories that each picture illustrated.
Elder Junker was short and round. He was always laughing, and Taylor loved his accent. He told Taylor stories about his large family back home. He was the oldest of eight children. He had a brother who was her age and a sister who was just a little younger. Taylor was always glad to see his happy face.
One Sunday, Taylor saw Elder Turley and Elder Junker in church as usual, but she could tell that something was not quite right with Elder Junker. His beautiful smile was missing. And even though he turned up the corners of his mouth when he shook her hand and said hello, it was not the same jolly smile that she was used to.
“Mommy, why did Elder Junker look so sad?” Taylor asked after church.
“Well,” Mommy said, “Elder Junker comes from a faraway country called Germany. His entire family is there, and I think he is homesick.”
“What does homesick mean?”
“When you’re homesick, you miss the people and things of your home,” Daddy told her. “In Germany, the people speak differently. They eat different foods too. Even the sounds and smells are different.”
“Couldn’t we do something to help?” Taylor asked.
“Well, I suppose we could ask the elders to dinner,” Mommy said, “but I don’t know if that would help much.”
“Yes it will,” Taylor practically shouted, “if we eat food from Germany!”
Mommy laughed. “Of course—an authentic German dinner. The Guenters are from Germany. Sister Guenter could give me one of her mother’s recipes. What do you think, Daddy?”
“I think it’s a great idea. and I’ll get a German phrase book so we can learn to say something nice in his native language.”
“Hurray!” Taylor cheered, growing more and more excited. “I know exactly what I’ll do too.”
The next day, Taylor and Mommy went to Brother and Sister Guenter’s house. While Mommy explained to Sister Guenter what she wanted and why, Taylor went to the work shed out back to find Brother Guenter.
She watched him for a few moments until he looked up from his workbench.
“Oh, my goodness,” he said, “I wasn’t aware that I had a visitor. Come in, come in.”
“I’ve come to ask a favor.”
Brother Guenter patted the seat next to him. “Sit here,” he said, “and we will discuss it.”
Taylor told Brother Guenter her idea, and he agreed to help her. All that week she went to his house after school and stayed for an hour or so, learning to sing a special song in German.
On the night of the dinner, Taylor’s house was filled with exciting new smells.
When the elders arrived, a strange look came over Elder Junker’s face. He sniffed the air and smiled. “I smell bratwurst! And sauerkraut!”
Daddy bowed. “Wilkommen zu Hause (welcome to our home). Taylor thought an ‘evening in Germany’ might help you feel less homesick.”
“Oh, Taylor,” Elder Junker exclaimed, “how thoughtful of you! I have been feeling homesick lately. Thank you very much.”
“Bitte schön (you’re welcome),” Taylor said, beaming. “Möchten Sie ein Lied zuhören (Would you like to hear a song)?”
“Ja, bitte (Yes, please),” Elder Junker told her.
“Ich bin ein Kind von Gott (I am a child of God),” Taylor sang in a clear voice. She finished without a mistake while Elder Junker wiped happy tears from his eyes.
Later, he told Mother that the bratwurst and sauerkraut tasted just like his mother’s, and he asked Taylor for an encore of “Ich bin ein Kind von Gott.”
When the missionaries left, the jolly smile had returned to Elder Junker’s face.

Emily is scared to go to Primary by herself. She asks Mom to come with her.
“I get to go to my class and learn how Jesus can help me,” Mom says.
“And you get to go to Primary and learn how Jesus can help you.”
Mom hugs Emily. “Jesus can help us, even when it’s hard.”
Mom walks with Emily to Primary and waves goodbye.
They learn a song about Jesus. Emily likes the music. She feels safe and happy.
Mom isn’t in Primary. But Jesus is helping Emily be brave!
Illustrations by Natalie Briscoe

Charles Francis Adams, grandson of the second president of the United States, was a successful lawyer, a member of the U.S. House of Representatives, and the U.S. ambassador to Britain. Amidst his responsibilities, he had little time to spare. He did, however, keep a diary. One day he wrote, “Went fishing with my son today—a day wasted!”

On that same date, Charles’s son, Brooks Adams, had printed in his own diary, “Went fishing with my father today—the most wonderful day of my life” (quoted in Scott Walker, Daily Guideposts: 1994 [Carmel, N.Y.: Guideposts, 1993], p. 67).

Along that line, some years ago the congregational and evangelical churches of these western states—California, Oregon, Washington, Idaho, Utah, and Nevada—were holding a conference of their leaders and ministers in Salt Lake. The leader of the group wrote a letter to President McKay and asked him if he would send one of the General Authorities of the Church to attend the morning session of their conference and tell them the story of Mormonism, to be their guest for lunch, and to remain for an hour and a half in the afternoon and let them ask questions. I got the assignment, and I don’t mind telling you that I was happy to get it. I tell the missionaries you’ll never need to argue with anybody if you learn how to tell our story and you keep the lead. So when I arrived I said, “Do you want it just the way we got our Church and what we believe?”
The man in charge said, “That’s just what we want.”
Some of them wanted to get away on earlier planes to the Northwest, so they set the luncheon back half an hour so that they could give me two and a half hours in that morning meeting. I presented our message to them just about the same way that I have presented it in A Marvelous Work and a Wonder, which many of you have read, showing what we got by revelation rather than by reformation. The churches of this world have not been able to agree because they have not understood the scriptures as they have tried to interpret them; and no two of them can agree, so that has brought into the world many churches. But we have a gospel that has come directly from heaven. When I wrote A Marvelous Work and a Wonder, I predicated it on the thought that we are the only Christian church in the world that didn’t get our religion out of the Bible; we got it by revelation from heaven; then we use the Bible to prove that what we have is what we should have.
After I had presented what we got by revelation (and I’ve already referred to a little of that when I told you about my cousin who was in Norway), I said, “While I was the presiding bishop of the Church, we directed the building program of the Church. We had the plans prepared for the Los Angeles Temple. One day we showed those plans to the First Presidency. We had 84 pages about 4 feet long and 2 1/2 feet wide. We didn’t have the electric plans or the plumbing plans complete, and yet there was that temple built spiritually, and there was not a hole in the ground. You could take those plans and go all over the world and try to fit them to every building in the world, but there’s only one building they would fit, and that’s the Mormon temple in Los Angeles. Of course, you could find buildings that have material in them like the material in that temple, such as lumber, cement, tiling, electrical wiring, and plumbing, but you can’t find any other building in the world that those plans will fit except the Mormon temple in Los Angeles.”
Then I held up the Bible and said, “Here’s the Lord’s blueprint. Isaiah said the Lord had declared the end from the beginning. It’s all here when you know how to understand it. Isaiah said,
The grass withereth, and the flower fadeth, but the word of our God shall stand forever. [Isaiah 40:8]
You could take this, the Lord’s blueprint, and try to fit it to every church in this world, but there’s only one church that it will fit, and that’s The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Of course, you can find other churches that have some of the same things in them like are in this blueprint, but you can’t find any other church that this, the Lord’s blueprint, will fit.”
Then I said, “Now, I’ll proceed to illustrate to you what I mean. In Farrar’s Life of Christ, he said there were two passages in the New Testament for which he could find no excuse. The first was John 10:16, where Jesus said,
Other sheep I have, which are not of this fold: them also I must bring, and they shall hear my voice; and there shall be one fold, and one shepherd.
I said, “Do any of you men know why that is in the Bible?”
No answer.
“Do any of you know any church in the world that does know why it’s in the Bible?”
No answer.
“Well, we know all about it.” Then I tied it to what I’d told them about the promise of Moses to Joseph who was sold into Egypt of a new land separated from his brethren in the utmost bounds of the everlasting hills, and, describing that land, Moses used the word precious five times in just four little verses (see Deuteronomy 33:13–16).
“Do any of you know where the land of Joseph is?”
No answer.
“Do any of you know where any church in the world that does know where it is?”
No answer.
“Well, we know all about it,” I said. “It’s the land of America.” And then I led up to where the Lord commanded Ezekiel that the two records should be kept, one of Judah and his followers, the house of Israel, and one of Joseph and his followers, the house of Israel, and in the days of their children—that is in the latter days—when they would say,
Wilt thou not shew us what thou meanest by these?
Say unto them, Thus saith the Lord God; Behold, I will take the stick of Joseph, which is in the hand of Ephraim, and the tribes of Israel his fellows, and will put them with him, even with the stick of Judah, and make them one stick, and they shall be one in mine hand. [Ezekiel 37:18–19]
“Do any of you,” I said, “know where that stick or record of Joseph is that the Lord commanded should be written?”
No answer.
“Well, we know all about it; it’s the Book of Mormon. And when you get the Book of Mormon, you read about when Jesus visited his people here in the land of America, when he told them that they were the other sheep of whom he spoke to his disciples in Jerusalem. He said never at any time had the Lord commanded him to tell his disciples who the other sheep were, only that he had other sheep that were not of that fold.” See how beautifully the scriptures fit together when you understand them?
The second passage that Canon Farrar couldn’t understand is 1 Corinthians 15:29, where Paul said:
Else what shall they do which are baptized for the dead, if the dead rise not at all? why are they then baptized for the dead?
I said, “Do any of you know why that is in the Bible?”
No answer.
“Do any of you know of any church in the world that does know why that’s in the Bible?”
No answer.
“Well, we know all about it.” Then I told them that Peter said that Jesus was
put to death in the flesh, but quickened by the Spirit:
By which also he went and preached unto the spirits in prison;
Which sometime were disobedient . . . in the days of Noah, while the ark was a preparing, wherein few, that is, eight souls were saved by water. [1 Peter 3:18–20]
“Now,” I said, “obviously if Jesus preached to them, his gospel was faith, repentance, baptism by immersion for the remission of sins, and the laying on of hands for the gift of the Holy Ghost. And since you can’t baptize a spirit in water, the Lord had to give them a vicarious baptism of the living for the dead so that holy and sacred ordinance could be performed for them.” I went on to point out that Peter said,
For this cause was the gospel preached also to them that are dead, that they might be judged according to men in the flesh, but live according to God in the spirit. [1 Peter 4:6]
That helps you to understand what Jesus meant when he said:
The hour is coming, and now is, when the dead shall hear the voice of the Son of God: and they that hear shall live. [John 5:25]
The world has interpreted that to mean those who are dead in sin, but Jesus amplified it by saying:
Marvel not at this; for the hour is coming, in the which all that are in the grave shall hear his voice. [John 5:28]
See how beautifully that fits together?
Then I gave those men some more passages concerning the kingdom that God was to set up in the latter days and the heavens that were to receive the Christ until the restitution of all things spoken by the mouths of all the holy prophets since the world began and then the angel that was to bring the gospel in the latter days to be preached to every nation, kindred, tongue, and people; and in each one I would say, “Do you know why these passages are in the scripture as part of the Lord’s blueprint? Do you know any church in the world that claims that these things have been fulfilled?” Do you see how beautifully the gospel and all these beautiful fulfillments of the words of the holy prophets fit together?
Toward the close of my remarks, the man in charge said, “Now, Mr. Richards, we’ve heard it said that you believe God has a wife. Would you explain that to us?” I think he thought he had me over a barrel or in a corner that I couldn’t get out of.
Rather facetiously I said, “Well, I don’t see how in the world God could have a son without a wife, do you?” They all began to twitter, and I didn’t have any trouble with that question.
Those ministers and church leaders wanted to have an hour and a half to ask questions, and after they had listened to me for two and a half hours, I got that one question from them, and that was the only one. The man in charge said when I left them, “Mr. Richards, this has been one of the most interesting experiences of my entire life.” No wonder Isaiah said it would be a marvelous work and a wonder. That’s what it is to me, and that’s what every missionary ought to make it be to those who are yet in darkness.

I also know a woman in Cape Coast, Ghana, who somehow tuned into general conference. She had never heard of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, but she became glued to what she saw and heard from prophets, seers, and revelators. Afterward, she looked for the Church. She found a chapel and met the missionaries. Eventually she was baptized. Recently, she sent me pictures of herself at the temple to receive her endowment.

Recently a young ex-convict joined the Church after years of trouble and searching. His story is best told in his own words. Only the names have been changed. The following is taken from an address he taped while in prison. We publish it with his permission.
Brothers and sisters: I’m honored on this occasion to be able to speak to you about my life and to give some suggestions in regard to the gospel of Jesus Christ. The gospel has truly been restored in our time through Joseph Smith and all the other great souls who have been instruments in the hands of God and his Only Begotten Son, our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
For those of you who don’t know who I am, it might be best for me to start by telling you a little bit about myself. My name is Bill, and I am twenty-one years old. Up until a few years ago, I was very unfortunate spiritually. Indeed, my present situation somewhat reflects this fact. I guess by now you know that I am housed in the prison system of this state.
I was born in a Baltimore suburb to a fine family consisting of my mother, father, two brothers, and two sisters. I was raised in the Roman Catholic Church and even attended a parochial grade school. I started out as a relatively good child and continued so up until around the fourth grade. Yes, as early as the fourth grade I was on my way to a long road of filth of every kind. I started by getting involved with others who had the habit of stealing anything and everything. By age eleven I found it quite amusing to obtain entry into private premises in order to steal and vandalize. Of course, eventually I was caught and brought before a judge. I was fortunate this time not to receive any punishment for my crimes.
Time passed, and soon I was involved in every kind of unlawful act a person my age could get into. Time and time again I was caught and punished accordingly.
Of course, this kind of behavior caused my parents and loved ones much sorrow. Even with all their efforts to help me, I just seemed to get worse. As time passed, I was introduced to many of the radical, subversive factions of our society and the things that went along with them. It seems I went from one extreme to another trying to find a purpose in life. I was, of course, eventually introduced to one of the strongest underminers of all that is good—drugs. I experimented and tried to find myself using all the inventions of man. However, as time passed, I sensed my degenerated position. I soon realized I must pull myself from this hell on earth; so with all the courage I could muster, I managed to get accepted in the United States Army.
Once in the army and away from my old surroundings, I was able to muster some faith in God, of which I always had a little portion. I remember reading in the Bible and pondering the true meaning of the many prophecies. I even tried to get reactivated in the Roman Catholic Church. That, however, soon subsided, and I was on my way seeking and looking. I remember pouring out my soul in prayer much more frequently during this period, but I would always manage to find myself reunited with one of my various vices. Eventually I was transferred to another area. There I found a small group of seekers after the truth who interpreted God in their own way. I remember it was there that I thanked God for my restoration of faith, but I still was not satisfied.
Finally I became discontented and discouraged with the army. I was due to be transferred to Vietnam, so I decided to go absent without leave. Leaving the army behind, I traveled from the west coast to the east. Eventually I ended up back at my home. My parents were disappointed in me, of course, but they sympathized with me and consented to let me stay at home.
Well, before too long I was back in trouble, and I was getting worse. One night I happened to come across a gun. This led to other things, and I soon talked myself into using it for gaining money. Leaving details aside, I did use it and was caught. I was detained in the county jail to await trial. While awaiting my trial, I had occasion to visit a library they had there. There were a number of books dealing with religion that I asked to see. One of these was entitled Religious Truths Defined, by Joseph Fielding Smith, Jr. To this day I don’t know how that book got there. But praise be to God for allowing a sinner like me to even read it.
I commenced reading the book, which compares the doctrine of many contemporary religious establishments to those of the church called The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. To me it seemed that even a blind person could see the obvious truths the book professed. After all this I had found the true church. That night I prayed to God, and I told him I believed. I didn’t ask if it were true; I told him I knew it was true.
Brothers and sisters, there are no words I know that can describe the tremendous joy and will to do good continuously that I received from an enormously gigantic outpouring of the Holy Ghost the next morning. I was dazed. I couldn’t believe what was happening. Why God led me to that book and what he has planned for me, I don’t know. But I do know that I have found the true church and the true God. I know that God is real, that Jesus Christ is his Only Begotten. I know the Holy Ghost does exist and that he works on the hearts of men.
Well, I was eventually punished for my wrongs and crimes. I thought that God had let me down at first. However, I stayed in contact with his church continuously and was strengthened more and more. Eventually I quit smoking and drinking, and all my vices and bad habits have almost completely vanished. I have managed to get my high school equivalent and now I’m close to graduation from junior college with a degree in business administration. I have almost two years in seminary work completed and have managed to read the standard works a number of times. I have read many of the other books related to the Church and have followed the Church as closely as possible. To my regret, however, I did receive an undesirable discharge from the army, for which I am really sorry. I surely will try to make it up.
I recently started receiving the missionary discussions and anxiously await the opportunity to be baptized, to receive the gift of the Holy Ghost, and to get my patriarchal blessing. I believe in everything the Church says and does and can’t wait to be active in God’s work.
That is an extra-short version of my life’s story. Indeed, I could probably fill a couple of volumes with the complete version. But all in all, I have no doubts whatsoever concerning God’s church and work. How I look forward to the day I can be in it.
As for advice and suggestions, brothers and sisters, what can I tell you that hasn’t been told you by the prophets and authorities? I will say, Beware of the ways of the world. Be not concerned with societal standards or resulting sub-societies. “Fear God and keep his commandments, for that is the whole duty of man,” the Psalmist said. Please, trust God. Be pure. Don’t go through what I did, or even a minute portion of what I did. There’s no pleasure in it, only grief. So with that I will end my speaking. I give thanks to God above for bringing me this far, and for the change in my heart and the chance to tell someone my story so that maybe they can avoid what I went through. I also give thanks for all the great people I’ve met since my affiliation, for truly you are saints. May the Lord God of Israel be with you always and forever. Amen.

First, I should like to tell you about a different kind of classroom with a unique group of teachers. The students have come from a state-run shelter for juvenile offenders of the law to be instructed by prison inmates serving life terms or more than twenty-five years.

Let me describe a group of recent participants in what is known as the Juvenile Awareness Program. There were twenty of them, including several as young as fourteen with tattoos on their arms, and all had had minor scrapes with the law, ranging from break-ins to shoplifting and assault. They arrived by bus and strutted cockily into the prison confines. Three hours later they walked out timidly—some shaking and near tears.

Their change in attitude came after their "teachers" gave them firsthand information about prison life. In the vilest of language, and with frequent threats of violence (although never carried out), the class members were transformed from fidgeting, squirming, disinterested youths to a spellbound, captive audience.

Let me repeat some of the words of the "instructors" which brought about this change.

"I’m 45 years old now and I know I’m never going to see the streets again," said a convicted murderer. "We’re all dying to get out and you guys are pounding on the doors, saying, ‘Let us in.’"

Another statement: "The Hollywood image of prison doesn’t tell you about gang rapes and suicides. That happens all the time here. And you little punks are fresh meat."

A convicted kidnapper told the boys: "I’ve been in here for 16 years and you guys can’t sit still for a couple of hours. If you’re going to be criminals, you better get used to someone telling you what to do all the time." (Salt Lake Tribune, July 19, 1977, pp. 1–2.)

I was recently in Vladivostok, on the east coast of Russia. As I sat on the stand at the beginning of a youth and adult fireside, I noticed a young man in the second row immersed in a Duty to God guidebook for priests. I was thrilled and thought to myself: “Marvelous! Seventeen time zones away from Salt Lake City, and Duty to God is alive and well.” When I rose to speak, I asked him what his name was.
“Gere,” was the reply.
“How old are you?”
“Seventeen.”
I then moved to my real inquiry: “I noticed that you have been reading a book. What book have you been reading?”
Quickly came the reply: “I don’t know!”
“Well, where did you get it?”
“Out in the hall just before the meeting!” was his reply.
Immediately, as Gere spoke, Dimitri, a young man on the front row, jumped up, left the room, quickly returned with his own copy, and began to read. They were so ready for opportunities to grow.