Gospel Story Finder

Faculty and staff will remember Dustin Bradshaw. He is an eternal optimist, driven to succeed. After graduating six years ago, he helped staff the International Entrepreneurship Center on campus while his wife Hiva finished her degree. An offer to become a Foreign Service officer in the U.S. Department of State took them to the U.S. Embassies in Manila and Instanbul. Those years were exciting for the Bradshaws: “We had a front row seat in seeing the Church grow in both areas and were blessed serving in the Lord’s worldwide vineyard. We developed a love for the people we worked with and lived around that will continue for years.” After a brief stint with LDS Philanthropies, Dustin joined the Self-Reliance Perpetual Education department at church headquarters to help establish Self-Reliance Services across the United States.

I met B. J. the Saturday we moved to Pinedale. I was walking down the snowy street with my ice skates when a kid with glasses slipped and slid into me. He was chasing a fuzzy little dog.
“Sorry,” he said, pulling me up and brushing the snow off my pants. “Mrs. James’s dog, Snuggles, escaped from her apartment, and I told her I’d catch him. I’m B. J. Are you new around here?”
“Yeah. We just moved into that blue house,” I answered, pointing across the street. “I’m Jack.”
“Hi.” B. J. grinned, and I felt my mouth curve into a smile. He was a funny-looking kid with hair that stuck out from under his hat like straw, but his friendliness made me feel good. I didn’t know anyone else in the neighborhood yet.
“Do you like to ice skate?” I asked. “I’m going over to the rink.”
“Help me catch Snuggles,” B. J. said, “and I’ll show you the best ice in town.”
“Sure!”
“Come on then.” B. J. was already running down the street. “Snuggles always heads over to the flower shop. He has a crush on the poodle that lives there.”
B. J. cut down alleys and zigzagged through town as if he were in a maze. “I’ve lived here all my life,” he told me. “I know the best shortcuts.”
A few minutes later, we found Snuggles curled up in a furry ball against the flower shop door. B. J. scooped him up and gave him a scratch behind the ears. “Sorry to interrupt your date,” he told Snuggles, “but Mrs. James is waiting for you.”
After we took the dog back and got B. J.’s skates, he led me to an awesome pond. The frozen surface looked as smooth as polished silver. Kids raced around it, their winter jackets blurs of bright colors.
“I usually skate here,” B. J. said as we sat down on a bench near a tiny building. “That’s the chalet for warming up. They sell snacks inside, too.”
After we laced our skates, B. J. introduced me to Mike, Leroy, and Jenna. He seemed to know the entire town. Before long, we were all playing tag, and I felt the sting of the icy cold air on my cheeks as I flew across the frozen pond.
B. J. had just tagged me when a little girl in a pink coat slipped and fell. She started to cry, and B. J. whipped over to help her up.
“Is this your sister?” I asked, skating up to them.
“No, it’s Emma,” he answered, holding her hand to steady her. “She hurt her knee. I’m going to take her inside and get her some hot chocolate.”
“Oh,” I said. “What about our game?”
“I’ll be back—go ahead and play.”
“Come on, Jack,” Mike hollered. “You’re it.” So I skated off to tag him. I figured Emma must be B. J.’s cousin or something like that. Why else would he take care of her?
Over the next few weeks, I got to know B. J. a lot better. He lived with his mother and sister in an apartment downtown. I could tell when I visited that they didn’t have much money. Nothing about the place was fancy, but B. J. didn’t mind and neither did I. His mom laughed all the time, and he was quickly becoming my best friend.
We both loved skating and collecting coins. We both built model airplanes, too. In fact, we got along great! But I couldn’t understand why B. J. did some of the crazy things he did—like letting Jenna play his trumpet solo in the Christmas program.
“Why did you let Jenna play the solo?” I asked him. “You were going to steal the show.”
“Jenna’s dad is coming to town just to see her,” he told me. “She’s really excited about it. He hasn’t been around much since her parents got divorced. It’s important to her.”
“But what about you?”
“I don’t mind.” He shrugged. “Let’s finish our homework and go sledding. I’ll show you the hill we call Double-Decker.”
When we went sledding, he loaned his sled to a couple of boys who didn’t have one and doubled up with me. I didn’t bother to ask him why. Afterward we went for a snack to a little restaurant he knew about. Before we left, he swept the floor for the owner. “He has arthritis,” B. J. whispered to me, “and sweeping hurts his hands.”
On the way home, we passed a theater, and a man in a long robe stumbled and fell down in front of us. I helped him up. He had long brown hair, and he was wearing sandals in the snow. He looked like the paintings of Jesus Christ I had seen in Primary.
“Are you all right?” I asked. I knew he was an actor, but he looked so much like I thought Jesus must look that I wanted to help him as much as I could.
“I’m not used to wearing sandals,” he said, thanking me. “I have to go now. They’re waiting for me inside.”
“Have a good day,” I said as I watched him hurry inside.
“Did you see that actor?” I asked B. J. “I felt like I was helping Jesus.” B. J. smiled.
“Now you know my secret,” he said. “I always try to treat people as if they were Jesus Christ. Then it’s easy to help them, and I feel happy, too.”
That night, I thought a long time about what B. J. had said. Then I decided to get up early in the morning and shovel the sidewalks for my dad. He might wonder why I’m being so helpful, but now that B. J.’s secret is my secret, the idea makes perfect sense to me.

They first heard that message from two lady missionaries who were tracting in their area. Sister Zulema Abrea accepted the gospel immediately. She helped her son Angel understand the story of the Book of Mormon and learn to study the scriptures in preparation for his baptism, which came almost a year later. Oscar, who was then too young, entered the waters of baptism at age eight.

It would be satisfying to write that Edealo Abrea joined his wife and sons in Church membership before his death eight years ago, but that did not happen. Elder Abrea’s father nevertheless supported his family, encouraging his wife and sons in their Church service. Elder Abrea remembers that when he was baptized, his father told him, “Angel, if you are going to be a member of that Church—if you are going to be a member of the Mormon Church—you have to be a faithful member. I remember that was a Sunday morning, when he was waking me up to go to the meetings. Really, he was a tremendous help for me.”

The pulpit in the Conference Center has a unique story. Following is President Gordon B. Hinckley’s account:
“I love trees. When I was a boy we lived on a farm in the summer, a fruit farm. Every year at this season we planted trees. I think I have never missed a spring since I was married, except for two or three years when we were absent from the city, that I have not planted trees. …
“Some 36 years ago I planted a black walnut [tree]. It was in a crowded area where it grew straight and tall to get the sunlight. A year ago, for some reason it died. But walnut is a precious furniture wood. I called Brother Ben Banks of the Seventy, who, before giving his full time to the Church, was in the business of hardwood lumber. He brought his two sons, one a bishop and the other recently released as a bishop and who now run the business, to look at the tree. From all they could tell it was solid, good, and beautiful wood. One of them suggested that it would make a pulpit for this hall. The idea excited me. The tree was cut down and then cut into two heavy logs. Then followed the long process of drying, first naturally and then kiln drying. The logs were cut into boards at a sawmill in Salem, Utah. The boards were then taken to Fetzer’s woodworking plant, where expert craftsmen designed and built this magnificent pulpit with that wood.
“The end product is beautiful. I wish all of you could examine it closely. It represents superb workmanship, and here I am speaking to you from the tree I grew in my backyard, where my children played and also grew.
“It is an emotional thing for me. I have planted another black walnut or two. I will be long gone before they mature. When that day comes and this beautiful pulpit has grown old, perhaps one of them will do to make a replacement. To Elder Banks and his sons, Ben and Bradley, and to the skilled workers who have designed and built this, I offer my profound thanks for making it possible to have a small touch of mine in this great hall where the voices of prophets will go out to all the world in testimony of the Redeemer of mankind.”

In our day-to-day actions, it is often the small and simple things that will have a long-lasting impact (see Alma 37:6–7). What we say, how we act, and how we choose to react will influence not only ourselves but also those around us. We can build up, or we can tear down. A simple and positive example is a story told about my grandmother. She sent one of her young children to buy some eggs. The trusted child was probably joyfully walking home along the road, but most of the eggs were broken when the child arrived home. A friend of the family was there and admonished my grandmother to scold the child for behaving so badly. Instead, Grandmother calmly and wisely said, “No, that will not make the eggs whole again. We will simply use what we can and make some pancakes that we can enjoy together.”

When you seek after the light by surrounding yourself with positive and great individuals, you provide yourself with more opportunities to learn and grow. I have been blessed to work with so many inspiring student athletes. They continue to teach me so much, but one player truly stands out.

Many years ago we recruited a young lady who had a special talent and gift for the game. She was raised a long way from Provo, Utah, and had never really been around many Latter-day Saint players. She was also someone who was so good that she had never really been held accountable to some of our athletic standards, such as fitness tests, work rate, and being on time—or even things such as what to wear to soccer clinics and service projects. She was her own person, had her own ideas, and marched to her own drum—which was fine, but at the same time, it was holding her back from reaching her highest potential.

We did not see eye to eye on many things early on. It actually came to a point at which I had to make the decision to ask her to leave the team. She was good enough to play at other universities, and I told her I would help her find a place. However, I also mentioned that if this was where she really wanted to be and if she was willing to embrace her opportunity here and make some changes, then she would have the opportunity to join us again the following semester. After a short time she told me that she really wanted to come back and learn from all those around her.

It was not an easy journey for her, and there were many times when she knew it would be easier somewhere else. But through the struggles, the fight, the dedication, and the choices, she was able to develop, mature, and grow. She made the decision to stay and surround herself with great friends, teammates, professors, ward members, and the environment at BYU, and it ultimately led to an opportunity to change her life and her future.

One of the most rewarding and proud moments of my coaching career was to give Jenavieve Phillips a big hug on the field after her last game as a Cougar and congratulate her on an amazing journey. During her senior year she helped lead our team to a number fourteen ranking before we were knocked out of the tournament by the University of Portland, the defending national champion at that time.

What a blessing and unbelievable inspiration Jenavieve was to me, my staff, her teammates, and all those who knew her. She went on to graduate from BYU, serve a mission, and bless the lives of all those she came in contact with. She lived her life to the fullest, fulfilled her mission on this earth, and was taken home to her Heavenly Father after a car accident in 2012.

I will share another personal story that completely changed my life. It is an example of how I was again specifically tutored by the Lord and learned to accept his will.

My first wife, Melanie, was diagnosed with lung cancer in June of 2010. She was 45 years old, an active runner, a non-smoker, and seemingly healthy in every way. She loved her family and was devoted to the Lord.

We first began to investigate her condition when she started experiencing pain in her side and had difficulty breathing. We did not know how serious it was since the various tests and consultations provided no clear indications about her health. One doctor prescribed an antibiotic for pneumonia—another recommended gall bladder surgery. But no explanation, procedure, or medication brought the relief or understanding we sought.

It reached a point where we needed to go to the emergency room one night because her inability to take a full breath was growing more severe. It was then that a CT scan discovered a mass in her right lung. This mass had been causing a large amount of fluid to accumulate around her lung, making it harder and harder to breathe. A subsequent biopsy found the tumor to be malignant.

At the first appointment with the oncologist, we were informed that the cancer had already spread to her liver, brain, lymph glands, and bones. It was considered Stage IV, and the prospects of long-term survival were very low. Treatment options were outlined that could hopefully contain, if not eliminate, the cancer. At the time, we did not fully understand the relentless nature of the disease and how it would eventually assert itself despite the best that medical science could offer.

I can still remember sitting in the living room, trying to explain the devastating news to our children. I shared their fears and questions about how this could be happening. Our lives were not supposed to be like this. How is it possible that someone in the prime of life would be consigned to such a trial? How is it possible that this was not diagnosed earlier before it spread? How is it possible for Heavenly Father to allow such afflictions to happen to his children? The list of anguished and confused questions continued to grow, just like the cancer itself.

The months passed through a gauntlet of different treatments and side effects, good days and bad, doctor visits, and hospital stays. The main constants were Melanie’s perseverance, powerful prayers and priesthood blessings, and innumerable gifts of kindness, charity, and service.

During a scheduled visit with the oncologist in December 2011, we were informed that although the cancer in the lungs and bones had remained stable, aggressive new cancer had developed on her liver. It was, therefore, unlikely that further treatment would be able to resolve the spread of the disease. It was then advised that she transition to hospice care to attend to her final needs and comfort.

Two weeks later, Melanie passed away, free from the pain, nausea, and impairment that could never take away from her courageous example. While her health had declined over the previous 18 months, our family’s faith had increased. As the side-effects of radiation and medications took their toll on her physically, the love, support, prayers, and fasting, truly strengthened our family spiritually. Medical science had been unable to provide a cure. But through the power of priesthood blessings and the Atonement of Jesus Christ, we received healing.

My purpose in sharing this account is to show how our perspective is elevated when we turn our hearts to God. It would have been easy to dwell on the “how is it possible?” questions that came after the first appointment and just be angry and feel like life was unfair. Instead, I learned how it was possible to obtain peace by trusting in the Lord, his timing, and his will. I am grateful that through this adversity, we never felt distanced from the Lord by doubt, nor did we lose sight of his tender mercies.

This reality has helped impel me at different times either to repentance or to avoid sin altogether. On one occasion in connection with a home sale, there was an error in the documentation, and I found myself in a position where I was legally entitled to get more money from the buyer. My real estate agent asked if I wanted to keep the money since it was my right to do so. I thought about facing the Lord, the personification of justice, and trying to explain that I had a legal right to take advantage of the buyer and his mistake. I couldn’t see myself being very convincing, especially since I would probably be asking for mercy for myself at the same time. I knew I could not live with myself if I were so dishonorable as to keep the money. I replied to the agent that we would stick with the bargain as we all understood it originally. It is worth a great deal more to me than any sum of money to know that I have nothing to repent of in that transaction.

Esther has met some other big challenges. When she was two years old, she was diagnosed with cancer. After a lot of treatment, she got better. But then the cancer came back when she was five. Even though she was young, Esther was very brave. She and her family prayed before her treatments, and their prayers comforted Esther and helped her be calm. She would hold her mother’s hand and tell the doctors and nurses that she was ready for her treatments.

Esther was a good example to other young patients in the hospital. Sometimes the nurses asked Esther to talk with children who were having trouble with their treatments or taking their medicine. “They would watch Esther do it without any fuss,” her mom says. Esther’s kindness helped comfort the children and even some of their parents.

Now healthy, Esther only goes to the hospital for checkups. But that doesn’t mean she has stopped being a good example for others. Esther likes inviting school and neighbor friends to church. She even invited some to her baptism.

One time, Esther and Erica prepared a special family home evening when another family came to share it with them. First, the girls read a story about baptism from the Friend. Next, they acted out the story of Jesus Christ’s baptism with paper puppets they had made. Esther read the story from the scriptures while Erica moved the puppets. Then the girls showed the dresses they wore after their baptisms. They explained why they wore white and how they felt when they were baptized. Esther and Erica like to teach, and they are good examples for their younger sister, Lydia.

Whether at school, at home, or in a challenging situation like the hospital, Esther works hard to accomplish her goals and is a great example to others along the way.

After high school graduation David couldn’t wait to turn 19 and send in his mission papers. His doctor attached a note verifying he was totally independent.
But it was not to be. Instead of a calling, David’s letter informed him he could not serve a full-time proselyting mission.
“I was crushed,” says David. “I had worked so hard, and it seemed it was all taken away from me in just a matter of seconds.” But David didn’t quit. In an interview at Church headquarters, he was assured there was a mission for him.
One week later he was called to serve a welfare mission at the Deseret Industries (D.I.) in St. George, Utah, while living at home with his parents. David was not prepared for such a call. “To tell the truth, I was disappointed again,” he says. But he kept thinking of the words to a Primary song: “I will go; I will do” (“Nephi’s Courage,” Children’s Songbook, 120–21). He realized the Lord wanted him to serve at Deseret Industries, a Church-owned thrift store and job-training facility. At D.I. David would help those who were working to gain and improve their job skills.
“I look back now and think how foolish I was. I had no clue what a blessing this mission would be,” David says.
Not only has David been blessed, but his sense of humor and positive attitude touched more than 250 people he worked with through D.I.’s self-sufficiency and missionary programs. “Whenever we were having a bad day, we would just come and find Elder Eves,” says Debbie Kelly, a trainee. “When we saw how happy and positive he was, even in a wheelchair, we would ask ourselves, ‘What are we complaining about?’”

As a full-time missionary in the Ukraine Donetsk Mission, I learned that one of the keys to effective missionary work is friendship and understanding between companions. In one of my areas, my companion and I lacked such unity. We were both at fault. Satan noticed a small fissure in our relationship, and with our help he gradually turned it into a ravine.
Soon we, who were called to carry love and salvation to others, began to feel real enmity toward one another. And we were unhappy, deprived of the Spirit’s help, which is so necessary in the Lord’s work. We both wanted to change, but we simply did not soften our hearts with sincere repentance.
How terrible was my soul’s torment. Every evening I prayed long, tearful pleas for help, but still I did not understand my companion. I hated my weakness and pride, yet I could not cross the barrier between us.
“Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labour. For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow: but woe to him that is alone when he falleth; for he hath not another to help him up” (Eccl. 4:9–10).
In two months our companionship ended, but the memory of not overcoming this trial remained with me. I continued to pray, asking the Father to soften my heart and instill in me the spirit of forgiveness.
That sister and I still served in the same city. We met fairly often at conferences and other activities, but we always avoided even looking at each other.
Apparently, during one zone meeting, I was ready to fully accept the gift of forgiveness. As our zone leader said the closing prayer, I felt the power of the Holy Ghost. I was filled with unusual love and tenderness toward my former companion. In my head and heart sounded the message: She is also loved by Him; she also suffers; she also strives for perfection. She is my sister; we have the same goals and values. How is it I didn’t notice that I long ago forgave her? I love her! Again and again I listened to my feelings: Yes, I love her! We will change together!
I wanted only one thing—to tell her of my love and to ask for her forgiveness. I did not think about how she would react; I wanted only for her to see the sincerity in my eyes.
I asked if I could speak with her alone. I told her about my long torment, my prayers, and finally about my feelings that day. From her eyes poured tears of joy and cleansing. She hugged me and said, “Thank you. I have waited so long. I wanted to take the first step myself, but I did not think you would accept it.”
“And Esau ran to meet him, and embraced him, and fell on his neck, and kissed him: and they wept” (Gen. 33:4).

It was a Friday night much like any other. My closest friends and I were sitting in my apartment after watching a movie, periodically chatting quietly and then laughing loudly. A sense of genuine contentment filled the air, and I couldn’t help smiling as stories and ideas swirled through the room. Some of the people I had met only a month before; some I had known all my 25 years.
At one point one of these longtime friends and I got to sharing memories about some of our college friends from a few years earlier. As we talked, I thought of how I missed these friends, of how much fun we had had, and how close we had been. Now we had graduated and moved to places all over the world, finding ourselves in situations we never could have predicted. I sighed with momentary feelings of loss, then glanced around the room at the laughing faces surrounding me at that moment and was struck by the sudden thought: good things keep on coming.
That simple thought was actually quite profound for me, especially since I have always had a hard time facing change and am hesitant to let go of good things. I miss the past even while it is still the present, desperate to enjoy fully moments in which I consciously and determinedly live. I know when I have a good thing, and I want to hold on and never let go; this lazy and happy Friday night was one of those good moments. Usually when I realize how good things are, I instantly begin thinking of how everything is fleeting, that it will eventually be lost to time or circumstance.
But this night the internal regret didn’t come. Sitting quietly, surrounded by people I loved, I knew that even though some good things must naturally come to an end and that there would undoubtedly be many hard things in the future, the good things would keep on coming. And they always would—as long as I let them. Even as those I love moved on, voids would be filled with new and amazing people and experiences I had never even imagined.

Friendship is the foundation for a lasting romance in the courtship pyramid. Let me tell you a little story to illustrate this point.

It is the story of Isaac and Rebecca. Now this is not the Biblical account. It is about our daughter Rebecca and her suitor Isaac. Our Rebecca was not persuaded to marry her Isaac nearly as easily as was the Old Testament Rebekah. Our Becky was 21. She had signed up to do a summer internship through BYU in Mozambique. She had also started doing preliminary dental and doctor appointments for a mission application. Another option in her mind was applying for a master’s program in her field. In short she was trying to decide what to do with the next phase of her life. We all wondered which would win out of the 3 M’s – Mozambique, mission, or master’s degree.

Does that sound sort of familiar? Meanwhile Isaac came along in her pursuit and soon offered a choice of a fourth M - marriage. He was headed for medical school in a few months and he did not want to go without Becky. He later told us that he had his own 3 M’s that he hoped she would choose – marriage to me, medical school, and eventually motherhood. He said, “If she didn’t I knew I would be a fourth M - miserable."

Becky stood at the brink of many glamorous opportunities, and it was hard for her to set aside some of her dreams. (Parenthetically I would like to say that this is a pitfall for lots of young adults today. One project after another seems to get in the way marriage.) What finally won Becky over was Isaac’s intrinsic goodness and his kindness to her. He did the romantic things like taking her on nice dates, but this was not the most important thing to her. What she liked was how he put her feelings and her needs above his own. He did little thoughtful things, the kinds of things that one friend would do for another. Becky realized that he had the qualities that would endure through good and bad times. So she did marry Isaac. And now she reflects that she was right about his great strengths being a wonderful asset to their relationship.

I was down in a husbands-and-wives meeting in Provo years ago when a lovely sister bore her testimony as to the joy that had come into her home since her husband had become active in the Church. She told about going through the temple with her husband. She told how he had been inactive, how he had smoked and hadn’t been advanced in the priesthood, and how someone took hold of him and finally helped him to become worthy and ready to receive the priesthood; and the bishop had finally given him a recommend to go to the temple. After she had described that wonderful evening, she said, “Here, five little girls came in to be sealed to their father and mother. This man of God pronounced us a family for the eternities.” And as she finished this story and bore her testimony, she looked over the pulpit and down in front of her where her husband was seated. She seemed to forget for that moment that there was anybody there but just the two of them, and she said to him, “Daddy, I can’t tell you how happy the girls now are and how grateful we are for what you have done for us, because, you see, Daddy, except for you who holds the priesthood, neither the children nor I could be together as a family in the hereafter. Thank God for our daddy who holds the key and unlocks the door to an eternal family home.”

I was also informed concerning the aboriginal inhabitants of this country and shown who they were, and from whence they came; a brief sketch of their origin, progress, civilization, laws, governments, of their righteousness and iniquity, and the blessings of God being finally withdrawn from them as a people, was made known unto me; I was also told where were deposited some plates on which were engraven an abridgment of the records of the ancient Prophets that had existed on this continent. The angel appeared to me three times the same night and unfolded the same things. After having received many visits from the angels of God unfolding the majesty and glory of the events that should transpire in the last days, on the morning of the 22nd of September, A.D. 1827, the angel of the Lord delivered the records into my hands.

These records were engraven on plates which had the appearance of gold, each plate was six inches wide and eight inches long, and not quite so thick as common tin. They were filled with engravings, in Egyptian characters, and bound together in a volume as the leaves of a book, with three rings running through the whole. The volume was something near 15 cm. in thickness, a part of which was sealed. The characters on the unsealed part were small, and beautifully engraved. The whole book exhibited many marks of antiquity in its construction, and much skill in the art of engraving. With the records was found a curious instrument, which the ancients called “Urim and Thummim,” which consisted of two transparent stones set in the rim of a bow fastened to a breast plate. Through the medium of the Urim and Thummim, I translated the record by the gift and power of God.

In this important and interesting book, the history of ancient America is unfolded, from its first settlement by a colony that came from the Tower of Babel, at the confusion of languages to the beginning of the fifth century of the Christian Era. We are informed by these records that America in ancient times, has been inhabited by two distinct races of people. The first were called Jaredites, and came directly from the Tower of Babel. The second race came directly from the city of Jerusalem, about six hundred years before Christ. They were principally Israelites, of the descendants of Joseph. The Jaredites were destroyed about the time that the Israelites came from Jerusalem, who succeeded them in the inheritance of the country. The principal nation of the second race fell in battle towards the close of the fourth century. The remnant are the Indians that now inhabit this country. This book also tells us that our Savior made His appearance upon this continent after His resurrection; that He planted the Gospel here in all its fulness, and richness, and power, and blessing; that they had Apostles, Prophets, Pastors, Teachers, and Evangelists; the same order, the same priesthood, the same ordinances, gifts, powers, and blessings, as were enjoyed on the eastern continent, that the people were cut off in consequence of their transgressions, that the last of their prophets who existed among them was commanded to write an abridgment of their prophecies, history, etc., and to hide it up in the earth, and that it should come forth and be united with the Bible for the accomplishment of the purposes of God in the last days. For a more particular account, I would refer to the Book of Mormon, which can be purchased at Nauvoo, or from any of our Traveling Elders.

As soon as the news of this discovery was made known, false reports, misrepresentation and slander flew, as on the wings of the wind, in every direction; the house was frequently beset by mobs and evil designing persons. Several times, I was shot at, and very narrowly escaped, and every device was made use of to get the plates away from me; but the power and blessing of God attended me, and several began to believe my testimony.

Recently, I went hiking in the Teton Mountains with several friends. It was to be a relatively short hike up Table Mountain and back. We arrived at the trailhead very early in the morning, and expected to be finished and back home early that afternoon. It was still dark when we started up the mountain. As we hiked up the mountain we mostly stayed together, talking, sharing stories, and enjoying each other's company. When we reached the top, we shared the joy and satisfaction of reaching the pinnacle of the trail. After a short rest, we began our hike back down the mountain. Although we enjoyed the hike we were eager to get back to our homes and families. As we began back down, we descended the mountain at different paces. Each of us spread along the trail and individually enjoying the clean air, the majestic views, and the peace and quiet of our surroundings. At the conclusion of the hike, we gathered at the parking lot.
Eventually, all in our group had finished the hike, except one. As time went on, we became increasingly concerned. There came a time in which, given normal circumstances, we would have expected our friend to have finished. However, he was still on the mountain and in our eyes was not safe. After careful consideration and silent prayers, we finally determined that we must return up the mountain to find our friend. We eventually found him on the trail sitting down. He had sustained an injury that prevented his progression. He was injured, exhausted, and felt he could go no further. So with one person under each arm, we took turns helping our friend down the mountain to safety, and finally home. When our friend was still on the mountain, no amount of waiting, watching, hoping, or talking would have brought him home. It was not until we left our comfortable circumstances, traveled back up the mountain, and went to where he was that we were able to help. We must have the faith and courage to leave our comfortable circumstances, venture outside our comfort zone, and go where we are needed.

I would like to illustrate this association with the Holy Spirit by using the example of Boyd Jarman, a former BYU basketball player who is now an LDS patriarch. He recently described his experience as a fan. He told me he went to basketball games, yelled at the officials, and got mad at them, the coach, and players. He then talked about trying to give a patriarchal blessing. There was no inspiration, because the Spirit would not come to a man who had been temporarily angry. He realized that because of the current atmosphere he had to either stop going to basketball games, change his attitude and behavior, or stop giving patriarchal blessings. He stopped going to the games. I don’t believe it is necessary to stop attending games, but we must control our appetites and passions.

Last April, two days after general conference, we held our first meeting as a newly sustained presidency. We hiked to the top of Ensign Peak, and as we looked on the valley below, we saw the temple with the angel Moroni shining in the sun. For each of us, it was clear. The vision for our presidency was the temple. And our responsibility was also clear. We must “help prepare each young woman to be worthy to make and keep sacred covenants and receive the ordinances of the temple.”
The temple is the reason for everything we do in the Church. The temple was the reason our pioneer ancestors left their established homes and came west. It was the reason they suffered privation and even death. Temple covenants were the reason that, although babies were buried along the way, those pioneers could sing:
Come, come, ye Saints,
No toil nor labor fear;
But with joy wend your way.
Some lost everything but came into the valley with everything, really—temple ordinances, sacred covenants, and the promise of eternal life together as families.
Just two days after the Saints arrived in the Salt Lake Valley, Brigham Young and his associates hiked Ensign Peak. Atop that peak they unfurled a banner—a yellow bandana tied to a walking stick, which symbolized an ensign or standard to the nations. The Saints were to be the light, the standard. Last April, atop Ensign Peak, we three women also unfurled a banner which we made from a walking stick and a gold Peruvian shawl. It was our ensign, our standard to the nations—our banner calling for a return to virtue.
Virtue is a prerequisite to entering the Lord’s holy temples and to receiving the Spirit’s guidance. Virtue “is a pattern of thought and behavior based on high moral standards.” It encompasses chastity and moral purity. Virtue begins in the heart and in the mind. It is nurtured in the home. It is the accumulation of thousands of small decisions and actions. Virtue is a word we don’t hear often in today’s society, but the Latin root word virtus means strength. Virtuous women and men possess a quiet dignity and inner strength. They are confident because they are worthy to receive and be guided by the Holy Ghost. President Monson has counseled: “You be the one to make a stand for right, even if you stand alone. Have the moral courage to be a light for others to follow. There is no friendship more valuable than your own clear conscience, your own moral cleanliness—and what a glorious feeling it is to know that you stand in your appointed place clean and with the confidence that you are worthy to do so.”
Could it be that we have been slowly desensitized into thinking that high moral standards are old-fashioned and not relevant or important in today’s society? As Elder Hales has just reminded us, Lehonti in the Book of Mormon was well positioned on the top of a mountain. He and those he led were “fixed in their minds with a determined resolution” that they would not come down from the mount. It only took the deceitful Amalickiah four tries, each one more bold than the previous, to get Lehonti to “come down off from the mount.” And then having embraced Amalickiah’s false promises, Lehonti was “poison[ed] by degrees” until he died—not just poisoned, but “by degrees.” Could it be that this may be happening today? Could it be that first we tolerate, then accept, and eventually embrace the vice that surrounds us? Could it be that we have been deceived by false role models and persuasive media messages that cause us to forget our divine identity? Are we too being poisoned by degrees? What could be more deceptive than to entice the youth of this noble generation to do nothing or to be busy ever-texting but never coming to a knowledge of the truths contained in a book that was written for you and your day by prophets of God—the Book of Mormon? What could be more deceptive than to entice women, young and old, you and me, to be so involved in ourselves, our looks, our clothes, our body shape and size that we lose sight of our divine identity and our ability to change the world through our virtuous influence? What could be more deceptive than to entice men—young and old, holding the holy priesthood of God—to view seductive pornography and thus focus on flesh instead of faith, to be consumers of vice rather than guardians of virtue? The Book of Mormon relates the story of 2,000 young heroes whose virtue and purity gave them the strength to defend their parents’ covenants and their family’s faith. Their virtue and commitment to be “true at all times” changed the world!
I truly believe that one virtuous young woman or young man, led by the Spirit, can change the world, but in order to do so, we must return to virtue. We must engage in strict training. As the marathon runner Juma Ikangaa said after winning the New York Marathon, “The will to win is nothing without the will to prepare.” Now is the time to prepare by exercising more self-discipline. Now is the time to become “more fit for the kingdom.” Now is the time to set our course and focus on the finish. A return to virtue must begin individually in our hearts and in our homes.
What can each of us do to begin our return to virtue? The course and the training program will be unique to each of us. I have derived my personal training program from instructions found in the scriptures: “Let virtue garnish thy thoughts unceasingly.” “Cleave unto [your] covenants.” “Stand … in holy places.” “Lay aside the things of [the] world.” “Believe that ye must repent.” “Always remember him and keep his commandments.” And “if there is anything virtuous, lovely, or of good report or praiseworthy, … seek after these things.” Now more than ever before, it is time to respond to Moroni’s call to “awake, and arise” and to “lay hold upon every good gift, and touch not the evil gift, nor the unclean thing.”
Recently I attended the blessing of our newest granddaughter. It was a holy sight to me as my husband and our sons, along with many other loved ones, encircled this little infant. She was so elegant all dressed in white—and it didn’t hurt a bit that she was named after her two grandmothers! But the thing that touched me most was the blessing given by her father, our son Zach. He blessed little Annabel Elaine that she would understand her identity as a daughter of God, that she would follow the examples of her mother, grandmothers, and sister, and that she would find great joy as she lived a virtuous life and prepared to make and keep sacred temple covenants. In that sacred moment I prayed that every young woman might be encircled, strengthened, and protected by righteous priesthood power, not only at the time of birth and blessing but throughout life.
During the solemn assembly last conference when President Uchtdorf called for the sustaining of our new prophet and First Presidency, I watched the entire congregation of priesthood brethren arise and stand. I felt your strength and your priesthood power. You are the guardians of virtue. Then I was overcome with emotion when President Uchtdorf said, “Will the young women please arise?” From my seat, I saw all of you arise and stand together. Today there could be no more powerful force for virtue in the world. You must never underestimate the power of your righteous influence.
I testify that a return to virtue is possible because of the Savior’s example and the “infinite virtue of His great atoning sacrifice.” I testify that we will be enabled and strengthened not only to do hard things but to do all things. Now is the time for each of us to arise and unfurl a banner to the world calling for a return to virtue. May we so live that we can be instruments in preparing the earth for His Second Coming, “that when he shall appear we shall be like him, … purified even as he is pure.” In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

“Could I … uh …” The dark-haired elder in front of me shifted awkwardly. “I mean, I was wondering … if we could talk.” I had been teaching Sunday classes at the Provo Missionary Training Center for several months and had just finished my weekly lesson.
“No problem,” I assured him as we walked down the hall, away from classroom and companions. I had noticed this elder for the first time the previous Sunday. His eyes had been as shiny as his new Swedish knit suit. Now, both suit and eyes were showing the week’s wear.
“It’s what you said in class,” he began quietly. “You know, about faith. Well …” he hesitated. “Well, I …” he paused again. His averted eyes did little to disguise the tears that were welling.
“I always thought I knew the Church was true till now.” He shrugged his shoulders and sighed. “I came on this mission to tell people that I know.” His voice was husky with suppressed emotion. “But now I’m not sure. I’m just not sure.”
“You’re not sure you know?”
He nodded. The tears glistening on his lashes brimmed over. Suddenly our communication went beyond the foreign language he was studying and the English language we shared. As I watched him I remembered when I, too, wondered if God was there and what on earth I was doing, literally.
My mind returned to the MTC and the young missionary before me. “I know you’ll think I’m a terrible elder,” he said. “I know you’ll think I’m wrong and weak …” His words shocked me. Wrong? Weak? Are doubts wrong? Are questions a sign of weakness? Didn’t Joseph Smith himself doubt and question as he learned?
For 30 minutes we talked about faith and testimony. “Someday, Elder,” I said at the close of our conversation, “when you hit the vein of gold we talked about, send me a postcard.” And not too long after our discussion, he did just that.

I just finished reading the September New Era. It was the first Church magazine I have had the pleasure of reading. Thanks. It helps me. I am presently in the U.S. Coast Guard, stationed at the San Francisco Airport.
I was baptized into the Church a little over two years ago. It marked a turning point in my life and helped me to find peace of mind. Shortly thereafter I enlisted in the coast guard. I went through a tough boot camp and spent some great Sundays with other guys in the Church. I can remember someone saying that there was a reason for us to be there and that our Heavenly Father had a purpose for us.
After two trips to the Antarctic and one to the Arctic on the Glacier, the biggest coast guard icebreaker, I enrolled in aviation school for six months. Then it happened—Millington, Tennessee, and the greatest little branch you’ll ever see. I can’t begin to express my love for those people back there. I had been there less than a month when the branch president called me as a Sunday School teacher. I loved it. My students helped me to gain a testimony of my own. I was living off the joy that everyone else poured into me, when suddenly I found out for myself the sweet, honest, joyful truth of the gospel.
My testimony got me started into many Church activities, such as our roadshow, which took first place. Then there was the branch sweet potato project. I can remember the men and boys working in the field early one morning and then coming back to a good hot breakfast prepared by the sisters of the branch, while the girls watched the little children. Fantastic! I was later appointed teacher of the Blazers in Primary. Just think! I played a part in preparing those boys for the Aaronic Priesthood! You should drop out to Millington, Tennessee, sometime and be filled with the Spirit.
Thanks again for the joy your magazine brings.
Kurt CattonLos Altos Hills, California