Gospel Story Finder

Three decades ago, my husband and I made the mad dash to the hospital in the middle of the night. I was in early labor with twins. They were due April 10th but this was February 10th – cold and blustery. Like most expectant mothers, I worried that my child, in this case children, would be born with all their fingers and toes. Would they look like their Dad or me? Would they have hair or be bald? (I was bald until I was three.) I never worried that my child might die.
Immediately following the emergency delivery, doctors stabilized the boys and then whisked them away to a specialty unit in another hospital. They couldn’t breathe and as further diagnosis progressed, there were many more problems. They were identical; each weighed only three pounds and was about the size of my hand. Christian was born first; Cameron seven minutes later.
My husband had been alone through the night with the boys at the hospital across town. He and a physician had administered to them and by the power of the priesthood had called upon the heavens that they might live. They made it through the night. But as the morning progressed, reports of their critical condition stacked up and seemed overwhelming. Our first-born child, Christian, faced odds seemingly insurmountable. My husband asked if there was someplace he could go to be alone. Ushered into the doctor’s office in the Intensive Care unit, he knelt down to talk to our Father in Heaven. He told him how badly we wanted those little sons. How long we had waited for them. How he appreciated the Lord honoring the blessing given that enabled both to live. But then, with all the strength he could muster, he put them in the Lord’s hands: “Not my will but thine be done.”
He walked from the room to the isolette just as the monitor on Christian’s heart flattened out. He died that fast. I had never held him while he was alive. Come, the Lord beckoned. Come home.
I remember those days as if they were just last week. I remember the lights in the Newborn Intensive Care Unit and the sound of the machines sustaining life, buzzing intermittently with alarms. I remember the looks on the faces of other worried young fathers and mothers and the notes they wrote on their cribs, the pictures of family they tacked on the clear walls of the little isolettes. We covenanted then that if the Lord would save Cameron we would serve with devotion, we would hearken to every call. In the months that followed, Cameron fought valiantly for his life astounding the doctors with the grit he could muster from his frail little frame. Today Cameron is 30 and in a medical residency in Kansas City training to save premature babies.

Devon, it is time to get ready for prayer.
But I am ready.
No, Devon. You should kneel, fold your arms, and close your eyes when you pray. You should also be still. It shows respect for Heavenly Father.
Devon dropped his toy truck, folded his arms, and knelt next to Mom.
How does Heavenly Father listen to me? Does He have ears?
Yes, He does have ears. He listens when you say your prayers.
Devon said his prayer and stayed on his knees with his head bowed and arms folded for a few seconds after he had finished.
He’s not talking back. Are you sure He is listening?
Heavenly Father usually answers our prayers by talking to our hearts and minds rather than talking to our ears. He does this through the Holy Ghost.
Devon, how do you feel when you share?
Happy.
And how do you feel when you do something wrong—like throw your toys?
I feel bad.
The Holy Ghost helps us have these feelings to let us know right and wrong. He also helps us have ideas about what things we can do to be happier.
There are other ways we can know Heavenly Father is listening. Remember how He helped Grandma feel better after she got a priesthood blessing?
Yes, I’m glad Grandma felt better.
Just because you do not hear Heavenly Father talking to you, that does not mean that He isn’t listening. He sends you warm, good feelings to let you know He is there.
Devon felt happy.
Now I know, Mom. Heavenly Father does listen to me.

I know how you feel. In my school, the children think that I am strange and that I am “too” good because I never swear or do inappropriate things. I felt very much alone, but I made friends with some girls who have good hearts, although they are not members of the Church. Today, whenever students need help with something, they come to me because they know that I am a member of the Church, that I would never lie, and that they can trust me.Ester K., 11, Itatiba, Brazil

President Russell M. Nelson has said, “For us as Latter-day Saints, gaining an education is not just a privilege; it is a religious responsibility.” Many Saints dream of getting an education but are unable to do so because of cost, time constraints, limited options where they live, or the inability to travel to pursue education elsewhere.
With flexible, low-cost online courses available through BYU-Pathway Worldwide, obtaining an education is possible for more people than ever, including Samantha Winterdal.
Samantha, from the Dominican Republic, always planned to go to university, but her plans didn’t work out the way she envisioned. After high school, she got a job but felt like something was missing. “Every year that passed, I saw my schoolmates graduating, and I was just working,” Samantha said. “I thought, ‘What am I doing with my life?’”
She decided to pray for guidance. One Sunday, a sister from church mentioned BYU–Pathway to her. Samantha registered and began her first course. Although she couldn’t complete it at that time, she returned to BYU–Pathway years later to resume her studies.
In 2014, a pilot program of BYU–Pathway was launched in the Caribbean with 17 students. Since that first pilot, 3,786 students in the Caribbean Area have enrolled, gaining skills to improve their job prospects and better serve their families, Church, and communities.
So why BYU–Pathway? It provides access to online courses so students can earn certificates and degrees from Brigham Young University–Idaho and Ensign College. Nearly 75,000 students in 180 countries study through BYU–Pathway each year. All students receive significantly reduced tuition (tuition varies by country) and guaranteed scholarships. The Heber J. Grant Tuition Discount gives a 10–50 percent discount (amount based on need), and recently returned missionaries receive an extra 25 percent discount. BYU–Pathway is designed to remove barriers, including time and money, that prevent students like Samantha from pursuing a degree.
Bachelor’s degrees offered through BYU–Pathway can be completed in three years. Each degree is made up of three professional certificates that help students gain marketable skills and a better job before graduating.
When Samantha was ready to start classes again during the COVID-19 pandemic, she enrolled at a local university. However, the school wasn’t designed to run online and wasn’t accommodating of her schedule, so she left. With the encouragement of her husband, Mario, she decided to go back to BYU–Pathway—she loved it so much that Mario enrolled too!
“We love the flexibility of BYU–Pathway because it allows us to work and take care of my 94-year-old grandfather, who has cancer,” Samantha said. “I know that I will continue to climb to the work level I want, and it will also help me with my own business.”
BYU–Pathway was also an important part of Kimika Blake’s journey to a degree. A university education in her home country of Jamaica is expensive, so she was excited to learn about BYU–Pathway’s low-cost tuition and enrolled. “There were many challenges along the way,” she said. “However, I am grateful for the lessons I have learned about finding joy in the journey and enduring well.”
Kimika graduated with a bachelor’s degree in applied business management in 2022 and looks forward to pursuing a master’s degree and entrepreneurship in the future. “I am a better disciple of Jesus Christ,” she said. “As I go forth with faith, I know many doors will be opened.”
BYU–Pathway’s curriculum is designed to help students grow as disciples of Jesus Christ and to build hope and confidence through faith-based academic courses and religion courses. Brian K. Ashton, president of BYU–Pathway, said, “Jesus Christ is at the center of all we do at BYU–Pathway. Whether it’s to help students get a better job or learn skills, drawing closer to Christ helps students improve their circumstances and reach their potential.”
At the end of his mission, Edward Angeles’s mission president encouraged him to pursue higher education when he returned to the Dominican Republic.
“I started BYU–Pathway right after I got home, and it was without a doubt one of the best decisions of my life,” he said. “I am on my first certificate in web and computer programming. I already had a job as a web developer. I got a salary increase, and I have been offered jobs at many other companies.”
Allison Caicedo, a wife and mother from Venezuela, said that studying at BYU–Pathway has helped her grow by overcoming her limits and fears. “I realized many of the things I considered to be my weaknesses turned out to be my strengths as I worked on them in the Lord’s way,” she said. “BYU–Pathway has made me a better wife, daughter, mother, friend, member of the Church, and above all, a better daughter of God.”
Elder Clark G. Gilbert, Commissioner of the Church Educational System, said, “BYU–Pathway is one of the resources the Lord has prepared for His great gathering ahead of His return to the Earth. One of the ways this will happen is by helping students all across the Church deepen their discipleship so they can, in turn, build others and build the Church.”
Learn more about BYU–Pathway Worldwide at byupathway.edu.
BYU–Pathway’s courses are currently offered in English. For those who need it, EnglishConnect is a three-course program that helps you learn English and prepare for future education opportunities through BYU–Pathway.
Lafague Augustin, a friend of the Church from Haiti, took EnglishConnect 3 after losing his job because he couldn’t speak English. The service missionaries at his gathering place encouraged him to continue with BYU–Pathway, attend church, and read and listen to the Book of Mormon. In return, they promised he would feel the power of God and his English would significantly improve.
As promised, Lafague has seen the blessings. He was able to get a job as an interpreter with his new English skills. “EnglishConnect blessed my life so much. It allowed me to enroll in BYU–Pathway Worldwide, which has helped my confidence when speaking with native English speakers.”
He added, “In church, I feel peace, love, and respect. As I pray, read the scriptures, and study the gospel with the missionaries, I’m becoming closer to Jesus Christ.”
Learn more at EnglishConnect.org.

Sasha Strachova tells a story of her own about finding the light. When she was 13 years old, she began to feel a yearning to know God. She prayed for months. Then one day two LDS missionaries spoke in her school class. They quoted 2 Nephi 2:25 [2 Ne. 2:25]: “Men are, that they might have joy.”
“I felt they knew how we could be happy,” she remembers. Her mother granted Sasha permission to attend a Church meeting.
“I felt love there,” Sasha says. “I felt life in the people. I wanted to feel what they were feeling.”
To convince her mother to let the missionaries teach them a lesson, Sasha washed the floors every day for a month. And when the missionaries arrived, they were surprised to find the apartment crowded with teenagers. Sasha had invited her entire school class! Three months later, with parental approval, she and two of her friends were baptized.

The article “CTR Rings in the Principal’s Office” (Mar. 2007), which tells of a girl who told her school principal about the Church when the principal asked about the girl’s CTR ring, inspired my five-year-old son and other Primary children in our branch to always wear their CTR rings.
My son and another child had their first missionary experience when their schoolteachers asked about the rings and the children were able to tell them about the Church.
Aleksey Dobrovolskyy, Ukraine

Before I was old enough to date, my parents discussed the rules for dating and the expectations they had for me. Based on those expectations, we have a tradition in our family that the first date be a double date arranged by an older sibling. When I turned 16, my older sister and her future husband arranged a perfect double date for me.
Our first destination was to grab strawberry ice-cream cones. Then we headed to a beach, had dinner, and walked around. We went to the fun alley for some air hockey and games. At a playground, we ate yummy birthday cake. What a great first date!
By following my parents’ rules, I have been able to enjoy each stage in life. I have experienced group dating, then single dating, and now the blessing of a temple marriage.

My extended family has a fun tradition. For holidays, reunions, or other special occasions, we like to take my uncle’s boat from Tongatapu, the main island of Tonga, to a beautiful outer island called Pangaimotu. There, we spend the whole day playing volleyball or pool, kayaking and, of course, eating and swimming.
On arrival to Pangaimotu, our boat is anchored just outside its lagoon, and a smaller boat ferries the adults to shore. The kids—my cousins and siblings—never like to wait for transport. They prefer to swim from our big boat to the shore, and then, at the end of our day-long excursion, they would all swim back.
When I was younger, I’d always want to join them, but that swim was difficult for me because the water near our boat was deep. It scared me to not be able to touch the ground with my feet—I was sure something would grab me and pull me down. Plus, the distance between the shore and the boat seemed so far. What if I got tired before I got there?
My dad knew how important it was for me to make that swim.
As the sun began to set on yet another Pangaimotu day, he called me over to him. He was going to help me to get from the shore to the boat.
Dad walked with me past the shallows and into the deeper water. As soon as I could no longer feel the ground under me, I got scared and tried to cling to him, but he wouldn’t allow it. Frustrated, I shed a few tears, but my dad just stayed beside me and encouraged me to keep swimming.
At one point, as much as I flailed my arms and kicked my legs, I felt like I wasn’t going anywhere. I was so tired! My dad gently suggested that I change my swimming position.
I concentrated so closely on his voice, on my breathing and on just moving, that I barely noticed we had arrived at the boat—much sooner than I had expected.
A warm feeling of accomplishment came over me after I climbed on board, and I realized that somewhere along that journey—as I focused on my swimming and on my dad—I lost my fear of the ocean.
Over the years, I have made that swim, back and forth, many times without fear. What once seemed so difficult has now become so easy.
I think about how my dad guided me on my first successful swim out to the boat. He was kind, but firm. He let me experience difficulties for myself, but he stayed close beside me the entire journey. At times I panicked and protested, but he continually encouraged me with patience and love.

There’s something different about Chris and Jason Trevino of Huntsville, Alabama. Something different in a positive way, a way that makes you want to understand why they’re so upbeat all the time and why they seem to have life all figured out.
This is made all the more intriguing by the fact that the two 19-year-old brothers are identical twins—twins so much alike that people get confused, yet with something so different about them they stand out among their peers. For example:
—They spend a lot of time helping their neighbors, the Wellmans, take care of their three youngest children, Michael, Jennifer, and Nathan. They play and laugh with and tease them in a good-natured way. They organize parties for them and take them fishing or boating. Sometimes they all camp out as a group in the Wellmans’ backyard. Chris and Jason are more like older brothers than neighbors to them. And what do the twins get in return for their kindness? A squeeze play. The kids smother them with hugs.
—They take care of three horses at a nearby riding club, mostly in return for the privilege of being allowed to exercise them now and then. They do the dirty work without complaining. They show up when they say they will and do all that they’re asked. They help with expenses. They’re totally dependable.
—They love their family. Put Jim and Barbara Trevino and their twin boys together and it’s like you’re with a group of best buddies, friends who treat each other with ultimate respect. Add 15-year-old sister Allison to the mix, and it only gets better.
Bad mood? The twins make it disappear.
Help with homework? No problem.
Want to tag along while we go somewhere? Great. Hop in.
Yes, the twins treat everyone well, most of all mom and dad and sister. But there’s something else—fondness may be the closest description. This family really enjoys being together, in a way that lets you know they’ll always be close.
—Most of all, at a time in life when many young men of their age and athletic ability concentrate on which college they’ll attend, what teams they’ll be on, and what young women they’re dating, the twins are leaving all that behind.
Argentina. That’s what they want to talk about right now, because soon that’s where they’ll be. They’ve both been called to serve as full-time missionaries for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Chris in Bahia Blanca. Jason in Resistencia. Two years at their own expense. Two years bearing testimony of the Lord Jesus Christ. Two years focused entirely on the needs of other people.
And maybe that’s the clue to figuring out the Trevino twins. The difference that makes them both the same is their love for other people. It’s a love that comes from following the Savior and living his teachings, from concentrating on what really counts instead of wasting worry on worldly things. It’s a dedication that brings happiness so filling it spills out into everything they do and everyone they meet. Add that to personalities that have always been spontaneous, and you’ll find Chris and Jason telling everyone what they’re up to:
—Getting passport pictures taken, they keep telling the photographer about how they’ll be representing the Church. “That’s why we brought our suits for the pictures,” Chris explains.
—Meeting with the county sheriff, who has to sign letters for their visas, they can’t help explaining how excited they are about spreading the gospel. “I can tell,” chuckles the sheriff, who already knows their father.
—At the county government building, they tell the clerks about going to Argentina to preach the gospel. “Isn’t that great?” Jason beams.
—Their mother’s boss, Victor Howard, is a Church member who works across the street. Dropping in to visit, they soon have him joking along with them. But after a few minutes, they talk seriously about the mission he served and how much he loves the Lord, the gospel, and the Church.
You have to understand. Chris and Jason are the kind of guys who, if you ask about diving and you’re close to the community pool, will show you the dives they do. Never mind that they didn’t bring their suits. They’ve been lifeguards here, and the caretaker, who knows them well, gives permission. They look at each other, accept the challenge, and even though they’re in jeans, jump on the board and plunge in the pool. You get the feeling that’s the same way they’ll plunge into missionary work—follow the rules, be dependable, work hard. But get with it—no wimpy excuses.
It’s sort of like a lesson Chris says he learned at the stables.
“Horses are good,” he explains. “If you work with them you learn to love them. But there’s one named Alvin. I don’t like to ride him a whole bunch because of his attitude. He fights me and tries to get the reins from my hands. He thinks he should do what he wants when he wants. There are a few missionaries who are like that. If their mind’s stuck on somebody back home, or if they go out just because everybody else thinks they should be there, they’ve got to change their attitude. You can’t complain about the reins; you’ve got to concentrate on where you’re going.”
And that’s what Chris and Jason are doing—concentrating on where they’re going. Not just on their missions but in their lives.
Sure there are some things that will be tough to leave behind. Family first of all. Friends a close second. Even the horses they’ve taken care of. And school, and work, and just having a blast. But nothing stands in the way once you gain the perspective of eternity. Even having to work in separate missions.
“Chris opened his call letter first, and I saw Argentina,” Jason says. “Then I opened mine, and for a split second it was like, ‘We’ll be in the same mission!’ Then we read more and found out we’d be in different parts of the country. We’ve been together for 19 years, and now we’ll be apart. But that doesn’t matter. What matters is what we’ll be doing.”
Serving others. Bringing them the truth.
Like the times when they’ve talked with Mrs. Wellman about her oldest son, who died in an accident at age four, and where he is now and what he’s doing. Like the times when they’ve shared Church magazines with her, or watched the video Called to Serve.
“Don’t just let her borrow it,” Chris said then. “Let’s have her over here and we’ll all watch it together.”
These are, after all, brothers who are close in more ways than appearance. “We talk about everything together,” Jason says. “Now we’ll just do it through our letters.” That will make for some pretty great letters. Letters they’ll share with Mom and Dad and Allison. Letters they’ll share with the Wellmans and their kids. Letters they’ll share with close friends. Letters in which they’ll bear testimony and record the adventures of two years spent preaching the gospel.
“In the past we looked at missions like they were something they ask you to do,” Jason says. “Once we got closer to it, we thought, ‘It’s the Lord and the prophet who call you, and their way is the right way to go.’ We’d go to church and come home in such a great mood. We talk to everybody about it.”
That includes the 12- and 13-year-old Sunday School class he and Chris teach together.
“I’m learning more and more about the gospel,” Jason says, “especially when we talk about things like the plan of salvation and patriarchal blessings. It’s a learning experience. And I think a lot about Heavenly Father and how much he loves us. He gave up his son for us. He must have a lot of love for us to do something like that.”
“Being as close as I am to my brother,” Chris continues, “it gives me some understanding of how close I should be to the Savior, who is also my brother. Even though Jason and I will be apart during our missions, we’ll be close to Him. And that will make the bond between us even stronger.”
Faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. That’s the something that makes these twins different from a lot of their peers, but exactly the same in what truly counts.
Editor’s note: Since this story was written, both Chris and Jason have arrived in Argentina and are faithfully serving their missions.

A former teacher of mine weighed well over 300 pounds the first time he went skiing. New to the sport and unfamiliar with the resort, he asked for directions, and a cruel stranger sent him to a black diamond run.

Exiting the lift for the first time, he experienced a short-lived slide of sheer terror, which ended when he crashed violently, embedding himself into the deep snow at the base of a mogul. From there it was uphill both ways, and he was tangled in his skis and stuck—by his own description—like a beached whale in the snow.

He found that by gyrating his entire body, he could plow forward a few inches at a time. As difficult and tiring as this painstaking process was, much more frustrating were the scores of experienced skiers speeding by him with no concern for his plight. Finally, a female skier swooshed to a perfect stop next to him—and the several-foot-long trail in the snow that represented his efforts over the last forty-five minutes.

“Do you need any help?” she asked brightly. To him it was so painfully obvious that he did that his temper got the best of him and he looked up at her and curtly replied, “No, lady, this is what I came here to do.” Insulted, or puzzled perhaps, she skied away, leaving him to another hour of belly flopping before he was finally free to hike down the mountain carrying his rented skis.

On days when I feel stuck—when progress is slow or nonexistent; when my life’s tasks seem difficult, repetitive, or fruitless; or when any help sought seems unforthcoming or insufficient for my needs—it has helped me to remember that wonderful line, “This is what I came here to do,” and to recognize that life’s work and life’s struggles, even the most difficult and mundane aspects for our existence, are truly, at least in part, what we came here to do.

When Elder Maxwell learned in 1996 that he had leukemia, the diagnosis was discouraging. He had worked for years on making himself “willing to submit” (Mosiah 3:19) to the Lord’s will. If it was time to face death, he didn’t want to shrink from drinking his bitter cup.
But his wife, Colleen, thought he was too willing to yield. With loving directness, she said that Christ Himself earnestly pleaded first, “If it be possible, let this cup pass from me.” Only then did He submit Himself, saying, “Nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt” (Matthew 26:39). Elder Maxwell saw his wife’s doctrinal insight and agreed. As a result, they pleaded together that his life might be spared. Motivated by their determination, Elder Maxwell’s doctor found a new medical treatment that prolonged his life for several years. Elder Maxwell was grateful that he was not the only theologian in their marriage.8

Becoming a hero was something of an accident for Andrew Scott, a 15-year-old from the Modesto First Ward, Modesto California North Stake. What wasn’t an accident, however, was knowing what to do in an emergency.
While Andrew was getting ready to jump into the pool at his school during his P.E. class, he saw something at the bottom and jokingly called out to his friends that he was going to dive down and make sure it wasn’t a body. When he got to the bottom, Andrew was shocked to find that it was a body. One of his classmates was unconscious at the bottom of the pool. Relying on life-saving techniques he learned in Boy Scouts, Andrew was able to pull the boy to the surface where his teacher and other students administered first aid.
Andrew says he was a little stunned by the experience but is glad he was prepared to do what needed to be done.

A rest home may not seem like the best place to go for a night of fun and action, but the young men and the young women of the Spokane Third Ward, Spokane Washington North Stake, found that with lots of enthusiasm and a great attitude, almost any place can be fun.
The youth donated items from home that were no longer in use (planter boxes, games, etc.), and then took them to a local rest home to “auction” to the residents there. Each youth was paired with a resident and given play money to “buy” items with.
“I wasn’t sure I would like this, but it was really fun,” says deacon Luke Shaw.
The youth enjoyed the activity so much, they are considering going once, going twice, going three times a year!

When Steve and I were dating, I used to go sit on the beach while he would surf, often with a book in my hand to pass the time. Once, when the surf was really big, I climbed up into a platform that had been built into a tree so that I could see better. It was 12 to 15 feet at Sunset Beach, and Steve was practically beside himself with excitement.

The next couple of hours were some of the worst of my life. I don’t know how close any of you have been to 15 foot waves, but these were huge and close to closing out the break—which means unsurfable. You also have to keep in mind that Hawaiian surfers measure from the back of the wave, which means that the face of the wave, what you and I see from the beach, is double the size of the back of the wave.

For most of that time, I couldn’t even see him. I would see him catch a wave and then disappear into the huge crashing white wash. Then I would search desperately until I saw him catch the next wave. It was not fun. I kept thinking, “Is he going to make it back out? Am I going to lose him? What if he doesn’t come back up after this one?”

When he finally paddled in, I scrambled down out of the tree and ran to meet him. He was grinning ear to ear and totally pumped. “Steven,” I said, “don’t ever bring me to watch you in surf that big again.”

In hindsight, I shouldn’t have gone to watch him. I’ve lived on islands all my life. I know what big surf looks like, and I know the dangers involved. This was just the first time that someone I loved was out there in that crazy stuff! Steve and I worked out a compromise—he continued to surf big waves, and my rule of thumb as a spectator became 8 feet or under.

An attitude of faith can convert a doubter to a doer. When Joseph Smith approached the doubting John E. Page with a call to fill a mission to Canada, Brother Page replied, “I cannot go on a mission to Canada, Brother Joseph. I haven’t even a coat to wear.”
The Prophet removed his own coat, handed it to him, and said, “Here, wear this and the Lord will bless you.”
John E. Page had faith in the Prophet’s promise. He labored two years in Canada, walked 5,000 miles, and baptized 600 souls.

Several years ago, I had the opportunity of traveling with the President of the Church to attend a series of area conferences. I will never forget the contrast between two conferences that were held just a few days apart.
The first area conference was held in a large arena, and as we sat on the stand, we noticed continuous movement by the people. We saw individuals throughout the arena leaning over and whispering to family members and friends seated next to them. Giving the members the benefit of the doubt, we thought that maybe the large building helped cause the lack of reverence.
A few days later, we were in another country attending another area conference in an arena much like the first. When we entered the building, however, an immediate hush came over the congregation. As we sat through the two-hour general session, there was very little movement among the people. Everyone listened intently. Great attention and respect was shown all the speakers, and when the prophet spoke, you could hear a pin drop.
After the meeting was over, I asked the priesthood leaders about what they had done to prepare the people for the conference. They told me their preparation had been simple. They had asked priesthood holders to explain to the members of their families, and also the families they home taught, that at an area conference they would have the privilege of hearing the words of the prophet and the Apostles. The priesthood leaders explained that the reverence their people felt for God and His servants was the basis for their reverent behavior at the conference.

Recently I was invited by President Bishop of the Missionary Training Center to address the nearly two thousand missionaries in residence there. I accepted because I always assume it is impossible to give a poor talk at the MTC. They will take notes and make scriptural cross-references if you read them the telephone directory. Plus I love to hear them sing. So I went.

Following prayers, hymns, announcements and introductions, I gave them a rousing forty-minute reading of the telephone directory, proving that indeed one can give a poor talk to these missionaries. But, generous Christians that they are, several came up following my remarks to visit briefly and discuss my message. (Actually most of them either wanted tickets to a basketball game or to complain about the parking ticket “hold” that Financial Services had put on their temple recommends.) I visited with many of them and the minutes stretched into many minutes and then finally into nearly an hour. During that time I noticed one young elder hanging around the outer rim of the circle as all the other missionaries came and went.

Finally the traffic thinned out, and he stepped forward. “Do you remember me?” he asked.

“No,” I said, “I’m sorry I don’t. Tell me your name.”

He replied, “My name is Elder ___________.” His eyes searched mine for recognition, but I just didn’t know who this young man was.

Summoning his courage for the ultimate revelation he said, “Hinckley Hall—A Faithful Friend Is a Strong Defense.” Then I knew who he was. That little coded phrase may not ring any bells for you, but it meant something to him and he knew it meant something to me.

On September 7, 1982, I stood in this exact spot and gave the only angry public spanking I have ever given a group of BYU students. The title of my remarks for that back-to-school message was “A Faithful Friend Is a Strong Defense.” I spoke of an offense, a felony—falsifying government documents—which had been committed in Hinckley Hall the April before and which had been widely covered by the press. Five months had passed but I was still hurting. Time had not soothed me.

I spoke of that incident publicly—without mentioning the names of the participants—because I care about matters of morality and honor and personal virtue at BYU. I wanted it clear then (and now, if anyone is still wondering) that the behavior of every student at Brigham Young University matters very much to me and to what this school stands for. So I said my piece and, for all intents and purposes, forgot about it.

But, as you might guess, it was not easy for the students involved. Not only were there the burdens of university and Church actions, but the civil laws made an indelible stroke across the record of some of these young lives. There were tears and courts and sentences and probations. Legally it had been about as much of a nightmare as a college freshman could have foreseen. Obviously it was more of a nightmare than they could have foreseen because the sorrow and remorse over their “prank”—I put the word in quotation marks—was deep and rending.

I recall that very unsavory experience for you this morning simply to put a happy ending on one young man’s very difficult experience. His father wrote me later and said how much courage it had taken for him to come up and talk with me at the MTC, but he said his son wanted me to know of his effort to make things right. It had not been easy for him to get a mission call. Not only were there all the court-imposed sanctions and Church restrictions, but there was the terrible personal burden of guilt. But he wanted to serve a mission both because it was the right thing to do and because it was a way for him to say to the Church, the government, the university and all who cared about him, “I’m back. I made a serious mistake but I’m back. I am making up lost ground. I’ve still got a chance.”

First, love for Christ. This concept proclaims Jesus as the object of our love, and our lives should be an external expression of our gratitude for him. Sometimes that is difficult to do. I once visited a high priests group meeting where an older brother taught us. He noted that “as a people we often pray, ‘We thank thee for all the blessings we enjoy.’ But what about the blessings we don’t enjoy? It can be very hard to be thankful for those.” This dear man had just experienced his first Christmas without his sweetheart in more than fifty years. It is difficult to be grateful to the Lord under circumstances we don’t enjoy.
Our beloved President Benson told some of his experiences with the Saints in war-torn countries and shared the following: “One sister walked over a thousand miles with four small children, leaving her home in Poland. She lost all four to starvation and the freezing conditions. Yet she stood before us in her emaciated condition, her clothing shredded, and her feet wrapped in burlap, and bore testimony of how blessed she was” (in Conference Report, Oct. 1980, pp. 47–48; or Ensign, Nov. 1980, p. 33). Things we don’t enjoy must not overshadow our reasons to maintain our love for the Savior. Otherwise we may lose our perspective or become bitter, and our love for Christ may be lost.
How deeply do we love him? Does our love depend on favorable environments? Is it diminished or strengthened by our experiences? Is our love for him evident by our behavior and our attitude? Charity, or love for Christ, sustains us in every need and influences us in every decision.
A second dimension of the meaning of charity is love from Christ. From a prophet of the Book of Mormon comes an inspired explanation. Speaking to the Lord, Moroni declared: “Thou hast said that thou hast loved the world, even unto the laying down of thy life for the world. …
“This love which thou hast had for the children of men is charity” (Ether 12:33–34).
Through his compliance with the severe requirements of the Atonement, the Savior offered the ultimate expression of love. “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends” (John 15:13). And by permitting his Son to make such a selfless and suffering sacrifice, the Father provided us with an ultimate expression of his love as his gift to the rest of his children.
The Apostle John accurately testified of this infinite though conditional representation of the charity of the Gods when he wrote, “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life” (John 3:16). This gift of charity is to be received. The Savior’s act of redemption for our sins is of no effect without our willingness to comply with the conditions of his atonement.
Speaking of the need for us to receive the divine love of God, Moroni prayerfully declared, “Except men shall have charity they cannot inherit that place which thou hast prepared in the mansions of thy Father” (Ether 12:34).
Some years ago I prepared to teach a class on a subject I felt would be particularly difficult. The night before the scheduled class, I prayed for guidance and then retired, still troubled in my mind. When I awoke, a certain thought was introduced to my mind that I shared with the class later that morning. After the class, a young man spoke with me privately and said, “The lesson was for me. I now know what I have to do.” Later, I learned that he had come to that class as his first contact with the Church in many years. He then proceeded to get his life in order and eventually served a faithful mission. Presently he is experiencing the happiness associated with keeping eternal family covenants. He possesses the gift of charity because he received the atoning love of Christ.
A third perception of charity is to possess a love that is like Christ. In other words, people are the object of Christlike love. Nephi said: “I have charity for my people. …
“I have charity for the Jew. …
“I also have charity for the Gentiles” (2 Ne. 33:7–9).
Since Nephi had such love for everyone, we wonder how he acquired it. He must have lived in anticipation of the divine directive that would later be proclaimed by the Savior as the key to the development of love: “A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you.” (John 13:34; emphasis added).
Jesus’ love was inseparably connected to and resulted from his life of serving, sacrificing, and giving in behalf of others. We cannot develop Christlike love except by practicing the process prescribed by the Master.
The Apostle John was not only loved by the Lord, but he also loved others like the Lord. John affirmed the process by saying, “Hereby perceive we the love of God, because he laid down his life for us: and we ought to lay down our lives for the brethren” (1 Jn. 3:16).
Is it a coincidence that missionaries give a portion of their lives in behalf of others, then come home and testify of their great love for the people they have served? Is it any wonder that bishops and other priesthood and auxiliary leaders who sacrifice for others are filled with love for those who are recipients of their labors? Is there a greater love among mortals than that of a mother, who offers all for her child? Many who desire to have charity like Jesus attain it as he did.
On one occasion my wife expected to be away for the weekend and asked one of the sisters in our ward to teach her Relief Society lesson. The week following the session, that sister came to our home and returned the instruction manual. She also brought to my wife a freshly baked loaf of bread and a handwritten note that read, “I love you. You are a special person. Thank you for thinking of me.” She was grateful to have been asked to serve. She was full of the love of Christ.
Charity is not just a precept or a principle, nor is it just a word to describe actions or attitudes. Rather, it is an internal condition that must be developed and experienced in order to be understood. We are possessors of charity when it is a part of our nature. People who have charity have a love for the Savior, have received of his love, and love others as he does.
It may be of some significance to note that the word charity does not appear in a single verse in the Old Testament. Surely the prophets of ancient times understood the need for charity as did the Apostle Paul and the prophets of ancient America. And surely those prophets knew and taught that “charity is the pure love of Christ” (Moro. 7:47). We are left to wonder if the enemies of Christ deliberately removed from the holy writings these saving truths as part of the plain and precious teachings that Nephi prophetically said would be removed (see 1 Ne. 13:20–29). Also, charity is only partially explained in the New Testament. But thankfully the Book of Mormon, another witness for Christ, has restored to us an understanding of this eternal precept. I testify that as we abide by this precept, we will draw nearer to God. Indeed, we will become more like him.
Individually and collectively, we can experience the peace and happiness enjoyed for nearly two hundred years anciently when “there was no contention in the land, because of the love of God which did dwell in the hearts of the people” (4 Ne. 1:15). This I know, as I know the Savior lives, in the holy name of Jesus Christ, amen.

On one occasion the Prophet Joseph Smith described the spirit of revelation in this manner:
A person may profit by noticing the first intimation of the spirit of revelation; for instance, when you feel pure intelligence flowing into you, it may give you sudden strokes of ideas, . . . and thus by learning the Spirit of God and understanding it, you may grow into the principle of revelation.73
On a choice occasion early in my service at BYU, when we faced an important and far-reaching decision on our academic calendar, I experienced that kind of revelation as pure intelligence was thrust upon my consciousness. I treasure that experience. It stands as a vivid testimony of the fact that when the matter is of great importance to His children and to His kingdom, our Father in Heaven will assist us when we are qualified and seeking.

Not long ago a sophomore at BYU found her way to my office. Her demeanor and body language bespoke her sadness, and she lamented that she had failed to become involved or make many friends during her first year in Provo. I mostly listened as she conducted a personal therapy session with herself and as she concluded, saying, “I guess I just need to get outside myself and do something for others.” She had made a very wise and absolutely correct diagnosis of the malady from which she was suffering, and I knew I could help.

I immediately walked the young woman to the Student Leadership office, which houses the programs of the Brigham Young University Student Service Association, or BYUSA as it is better known. There she was introduced to a genuinely happy and gregarious student volunteer who took her on a tour of the office, explaining the various ways in which students may become involved and serve others. I left knowing that my young friend was in good hands. She was doing what she herself had prescribed. She was getting outside herself and finding ways to serve others.

A few days after our visit to the Student Leadership office, I returned to communicate thanks to the dedicated student volunteer who had fellowshipped my friend. The volunteer said, with excitement in her voice, “Your friend is here in the office this afternoon.”

“Where?” I questioned.

“Over there.” She pointed to a spot perhaps fifty feet from where we stood. I quickly made my way to see my once lonely and unhappy friend but opted to stay out of sight while within range of her voice. My friend had gotten involved and was giving a tour of the office to two freshmen.

I heard her say, “I didn’t get involved but kept to myself during my freshman year, and I regret it. You need to get outside yourself and find a way to serve. We can help you!” This was music to my ears, and when I made my appearance I observed the smile that had replaced the previous distressed look on my friend’s face. Similar excited and happy looks were observed on the faces of the two visitors. I had just witnessed modern fulfillment of the important Book of Mormon parallel: “And they did fellowship one with another, and did rejoice one with another, and did have great joy.”