Gospel Story Finder

Connie, my wonderful loving wife and mother of our children, is not here with me today. She is home listening to this devotional on the radio as she lies on her couch. She cannot walk. In fact she is unable to sit for more than about an hour a day. Her body is frail and withered, it moves slowly or not at all because it has difficulty responding to the messages sent from her brain, she needs help with the most basic of life's processes. She suffers from the slow, progressively debilitating, and humiliating effects of multiple sclerosis, a disease that randomly attacks and destroys her nervous system.

Once we were young as you are and our hearts were full of dreams and our minds full wonder as we studied and prepared for the future. While attending Ricks College, Connie served as a student body officer and had many wonderful experiences that she shared with me in cherished letters while I served a mission in Finland. Here she is enjoying a devotional luncheon with President Joseph Fielding Smith. One of my dreams was to take her to Finland someday. We did that; in fact, we were able to live there for almost a year. In this picture we are attending an event at the U.S. Embassy in Helsinki.

As a young mother she would share her love of nature with our children walking through the forests and fields naming and explaining the individual characteristics of virtually every wildflower they could find. She loved to cook and I loved her thoughtfully prepared meals. She shared her musical talent with our children as she accompanied their string quartet on many occasions. She even tolerated the emptying of spit valves on her plants as she accompanied our son's Boy Scout brass band practices in our living room.

After our children were in school, she graduated from college and taught kindergarten for 13 years. She was always ready for a good hike into the forest to find a hidden waterfall or a secluded lake. She seemed interested in so much of the goodness and beauty in the world around her. Most of all she loved her family and the people in her life. She was a happy, fun, wonderful mother. She was quick to offer service, to provide a delicious meal, or lend a listening ear.

She can do none of those physical things now. She is confined to her bed and her couch and has difficulty talking but maintains a positive attitude even as the beauty of her smile fades with disease. We have a firm hope in the resurrection and an eternal relationship. I know when she is freed of this disease she will once again fill our home with music and accompany her daughters who now thoughtfully bring their instruments and play for their mother. I hope she will once again cook me a delicious "Connie meal," run with her children and grandchildren, and enjoy all the goodness that abounds in eternity. I have faith and trust in who she really is.

I look at this painting and see a very familiar languishing foot attached to a leg in an unnatural position. I see a familiar weakened reclining posture needing support and protection. I see my wife at the pool of Bethesda with her frail helpless body and constricted hands that can no longer make music, cook food, or move as they once did. I know how desperately she wishes things were different and how patiently she waits to be whole. I also have complete faith and trust that although she can do nothing physically, she does her best and tries her hardest. I know this because that is who she is. My service to her is made easier because I have faith and trust in her.

Then I wish as did Alma: "Oh that I were an angel and could have the wish of my heart" (Alma 29:1). But I am not quite so missionary minded at the moment. I only wish I could take the sorrow and disease away from my dear companion. I wish Christ would have her pick up her bed and walk again as he did with the man at Bethesda. I know He can and I know He will; it just may take more than 38 temporal years. But like Alma I recognize I sin in my wish. I am only a man, only a person, but that is what my wife needs: someone to lift her into the pool. There will be someone in your life who also needs to be lifted or blessed by you I hope you will be sensitive to that need.

I am learning to be content with things which the Lord has allotted me and to have a firm faith and trust in all He has promised: the resurrection into a perfect body, eternal life and progression. And, I cannot deny his hand in blessing our lives for many, many years with all that we ever dreamed of: a companion to love, knowledge of the gospel, a good education, children, a comfortable home, rich memories of good experiences, good work, and opportunities to serve. For this I am eternally grateful.

As my wife's health continues to deteriorate and her condition requires more assistance, I take heart in the fact that I know she is doing all she can physically and emotionally. She has always done her best and worked her hardest. There is no question in my mind she continues to try her best, when her body will not respond to her signals and desires.

The loss of my wife's health and abilities has played an important role in my personal and spiritual growth. The experience has brought me to my knees in tears and pleading on many occasions because I needed further instruction from a wise Heavenly Father. It has opened my heart to truths I had desired to better understand. I do not yet have all the answers to "Why me?" or "Why her?" I do, however, have an increased understanding of many principles; an understanding that is priceless to me.

Illustration by Jim Madsen
I had always procrastinated doing my genealogy. But my desire to serve a mission led me to set goals to help prepare myself to be a better missionary. With the help of an inspired bishop, I decided to begin working on Personal Progress. In order to accomplish certain goals and good works projects, I needed to become involved in genealogy. So I went to work.
I know the Spirit guided me, because one Sunday night, after only three hours of work, something amazing happened.
As soon as I began, I remembered that my great-great-grandfather had been the governor of the state of Amazonas, Brazil. So I typed his name into an online search engine, and to my surprise, I found a Wikipedia page about both my great-great-grandfather and my great-great-grandmother! I immediately recognized in them talents and gifts I have, and emotion began to well up inside me. But there was still much more to discover.
Looking through the links on the page, I noticed one of them said “family tree.” I clicked on it, and I found branches of my family I’d had no idea even existed. But what most caught my attention was the name of my great-aunt, Rosalina Meireles, who apparently lived in Utah, USA.
I was astonished. I thought only my brother and I were members of the Church. Could there really be other Church members in my family? When I clicked on her name, I saw a link to a Facebook page, so I contacted her. Within two days I received a message from her, confirming that we were related and that she too was a member of the Church.
I felt immensely grateful to Heavenly Father for allowing me to feel such great joy as I felt in that moment.
I continued searching for my deceased ancestors, and Heavenly Father blessed me with so many family names that I could take to the temple. But He also helped me find living family members who are faithful in the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. And I owe it all to Personal Progress, family history work, and my desire to serve a mission.

The winter of 1922 spanked Bentley, North Dakota. A whack of freezing winds mean enough to make your eyes water followed swats of icy rain. Finally the cold set in deep, relaxing into magnificent pillows of snow twelve feet high. The drifts froze so solid that a brave man or loyal horse could climb them like hills—if he could get out the door!
For once, Albert was glad to have five brothers and sisters. It was easy to stay warm when the family gathered to read in front of the potbellied stove. If only Mama wasn’t so depressed about winter! She hadn’t smiled in a week. Even the breakfast prayer had been quieter than usual. “I miss getting mail,” she said a few minutes later, staring into the rag rug.
“Mmm,” Papa said. “Not worth getting frozen. And I’ve just warmed up after morning chores.”
Mama sighed. “We’re out of matches. And salt.”
“All right.” Papa rummaged in his pockets for coins. “Which of you boys will go get Mama’s mail?”
“Me!” Albert shouted, dropping his book to the floor.
“I’m older,” Ernest said. “And Kuchen needs exercise.”
“Kuchen’s my horse,” Otmar spoke up. “I’ll go.”
“Albert will go,” Papa said. “Here’s thirty cents. Get salt, matches, and the mail. Ride Kuchen.”
The path Papa had cleared to the barn was shrinking as the wind swept snow across it. Knowing that a saddle would be too cold, Albert mounted Kuchen bareback and plunged into the drifts. Five miles was not a bad ride, unless—like today—the temperature was forty degrees below zero. Kuchen knew the way, even though most landmarks were buried in snow. They met two other riders heading back from town, so when Albert arrived, his ruddy face and iced eyelashes were not an odd sight to the grocer.
“Hello, young fellow! What do the Kilzers need today?”
The boy tugged at the hat half-frozen to his head and answered, “Our mail, please. Oh—salt and matches too.”
Mr. Strubert tucked a packet of letters into the burlap bag, then turned and deftly climbed a ladder to a top shelf. Albert wandered up and down the aisles. Buttons, fabric, patterns, crackers, tinned fish—wait! A wonderful splash of natural green glowed inside the glass icebox. Six beautiful heads of lettuce, barely brown on the edges, were stacked in a pyramid. Albert hadn’t seen a leaf of lettuce in months. If only Mama could taste some! She loved crisp chunks of lettuce, even plain. In summer, when she made Papa’s sandwiches of thick bacon, she’d slip a lettuce leaf in, then munch a few leaves herself.
“That’ll be ten cents,” Mr. Strubert announced.
“How much is a head of lettuce?” Albert asked.
“Pretty expensive—twelve cents.”
Albert’s whole body warmed with the thought of Mama’s smile when she’d see the lettuce.
“I’ll take it!”
For the whole five miles riding back, Albert clutched the neck of the burlap bag with one hand, and Kuchen’s mane with the other. One mile from home his teeth ached with the cold. A half mile away his fingers seemed frozen together in their mittens. At the barn, Albert carefully rubbed Kuchen warm and dry, giving her an extra pitchfork of hay for her efforts. He trudged back across the path now covered in a foot of snow. Triumphantly he unhooked the iron door latch and entered the great room.
“Gone a while, boy,” Papa said, not looking up from his book. “Getting higher out there?”
“Yes, sir,” Albert answered, placing the eight cents change on his father’s reading stand, then heading to the kitchen.
Mama stood at the table, rolling out sourdough for bread. Albert was too impatient to wait until she noticed him.
“Here’s your mail, Mama. And a surprise too!”
She looked up as Albert dumped the burlap bag upside down on the table. The perfect ball of lettuce hit the table with a crash and broke into a thousand crystal green pieces. It had frozen solid on the ride home!
“What was that?” Otmar called from the loft.
“Who broke what?” Papa shouted.
The twins still napped, but little Opal cried at the uproar.
Albert could not stop his tears. “Oh, Mama, I’m sorry!” he sobbed. “I wanted to surprise you. I know how you love lettuce.”
Mama hugged Albert so hard that he finally felt warm again. “It’s a treasure! Don’t cry.”
“B-b-but it’s all broken. And it cost twelve cents. Papa will be—”
“Papa will be nothing. Don’t worry. I love it! It’s a reminder of summer on this dark, cold day. Your gift is perfect! You are a very special son.”
Albert knew that she meant it. After all, she kept the frozen fragments in the ice chest till spring. She called them her winter emeralds and smiled every time she saw them.

On one occasion her fervent prayer was actually interrupted because the answer came so quickly. She told of the time when, with four little children under four years of age, she was called to be the ward Relief Society president. It was a frightening experience for her. She felt inadequate. She was concerned about her relationship with the other sisters who were all older and more experienced. She was new in the ward. She told of the great expectations the bishop had when he called her and outlined some of the special challenges in that ward. She felt the tremendous responsibility but knew that if the Lord called her there would be a way provided for her to fulfill this assignment. The first meeting was to be held in her tiny, modest apartment, with makeshift furniture and four small children. Her husband was at school, and he wouldn’t be there to tend the children. She spoke of her desire to establish a trusting relationship during that first meeting and to share a spirit of love and harmony that would set a foundation for the future. She felt this just couldn’t be accomplished if she had to keep running to the bedroom to hush crying children.
She planned the entire day very carefully and had everything ready for this special meeting. “I had everything done,” she said. “Then I bathed the children, hoping they would go right to sleep. Well,” she continued with increased intensity in her voice, “they didn’t. After their baths they seemed to get new life and energy. There wasn’t a thing I could do to settle those children down. All four of them were in one bedroom, so they just kept each other fired up.” With only 15 minutes before the meeting was to begin, this young mother, full of faith and anxious to serve the Lord effectively, went into her bedroom, closed the door, and knelt down to pray. She told her Heavenly Father that she wanted the sisters to feel his Spirit and to feel her spirit. She explained how she really did want to serve him and to make the Relief Society one the sisters would enjoy. She told the Lord about the problem with her four small children.
“When I knelt down to pray, it was just like bedlam all over, but right in the middle of my prayer, all of a sudden, it became quiet. It shocked me so much, I don’t think I even finished my prayers. That’s how surprised I was.” She immediately hurried into the bedroom to find, to her surprise, each child in a deep sleep. “All four of them,” she emphasized. “It was amazing, and I just knew that my prayer had been answered right on the spot.” Sister Asay recalls with humble gratitude the spirit of the meeting that evening. She described it as a time when “the Lord was there to bless us. I don’t think I’ve ever been closer to a group of women than I was on that occasion.”

In 1993, I was married and had one child. One day at work, a secretary took a Book of Mormon to the office, placed it near a glass, and left it. She did not tell me what the book was about, but I was curious. I decided to keep the book. Around the same time, missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints started visiting my mother. One day, while visiting her house, the missionaries knocked on her door, and I happened to answer it. As we visited, they asked if they could see my family too. My spouse and I agreed.
At our first meeting, I was surprised to learn that this religion had a book called the Book of Mormon. It contained over a thousand years of history and told the story of Jesus Christ coming to the Americas, paralleling the time period of the Bible. I read the entire book in four days and felt immense joy. I knew with certainty that it was the book I longed for, that God and Jesus Christ loved everyone, even those of us who live in the Americas.

In the middle 1970s I experienced something that awakened my interest in the Hebrew Scripture, or as we often refer to it, the Old Testament. I heard Elder Packer deliver a wonderful sermon in the Marriott Center in which he discussed the gifts of the Spirit. As he spoke I began to have an experience not unlike what he was discussing. In particular, I learned that I should begin to study Hebrew in order to be prepared for opportunities that may come.

I have dropped into a number of Hebrew classes in the past twelve years. I haven’t given the language the time it needs and I am certainly not fluent, but I have learned enough to have received a great deal of enjoyment and edification from Hebrew Scripture and to gain a great love for the language, culture, and people of Judah. Through it I have discovered a marvelous source of insight into the Old Testament—the Soncino Bible. This is a Jewish publication with the Hebrew text on the right, corresponding English text on the left, and rabbinical commentary from the Talmud and other sources at the bottom. I seldom read it but what I find some great treasure. One very good way to learn about the ancient prophets of the stick of Judah is from the rabbinical commentators and through considering some of the Hebrew words. One really doesn’t need much skill in Hebrew to gain at least some benefit from this. Even a few words are a good start. And even without any knowledge of Hebrew one can learn a great deal from the commentary. The rabbis have considered, contemplated, debated, and pondered the words of the prophets for many years, and they give us contact with the ancient traditions.

One yesterday special to young women is the birthday of our own organization, when President Brigham Young called his older daughters together and counseled them to turn their heads from the extravagant and foolish fashions of the world and to turn their hearts to the ways of the Lord. “Retrench,” he said, “retrench in everything that is bad and worthless, and improve in everything that is good and beautiful” (The Improvement Era, May 1969, p. 1)—a message needed more today than ever before.
This was the birth of the Young Ladies Retrenchment Society, and it started to grow from that moment. In one place, as the association began, the minutes were recorded to say, “A large and respectable congregation was in attendance.” However, a closer look at the minutes showed only two people were present—the newly called president and her secretary. But the secretary defended her entry by saying: “The minutes are correct. The president is very large, and I am certainly respectable.”

A few months ago, a friend came to our home under the pretext that he had some questions about the Church he needed help in answering. He said he had discovered the Book of Mormon was not the word of God and that Joseph Smith was not a prophet of God. He then proceeded to quote articles and books which were written by enemies of the Church. As he listed his sources, I replied that I also had read them and others, and they had only served to confirm my faith in the Book of Mormon and the Prophet Joseph Smith. He was surprised that I could have read the same things he had read and not believe as he believed. I suggested that he devote at least equal time to the right side of the issue, but he had come with a decision, not a question. His mind was made up. He did not want to know. His heart was closed. I thought of the children of Israel and their reaction to the Lord after he had guided them out of bondage: “And notwithstanding they being led, the Lord their God, their Redeemer, going before them, leading them by day and giving light unto them by night, and doing all things for them which were expedient for man to receive, they hardened their hearts and blinded their minds, and reviled against Moses and against the true and living God” (1 Ne. 17:30).

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.

Sister Elaine Cannon is a master of communication. A gifted author, editor, and speaker, she has a talent for sharing her heart with those who listen or read. The following article includes excerpts from Sister Cannon’s books, talks, and interviews. How better can we meet a master of communication than through her own words?
“Life is a wonderful adventure. Experience it deeply. Get involved. Record it in your journal. Live it all the way. Make friends with the seasons. Experience snow in your face. Breathe the spring, and press petals of summer; caress a baby’s softness, but stroke the wrinkles of age while marveling at the plan of life.”
Sister Elaine Cannon, General President of the Young Women, knows how to follow her own advice. She has lived the kind of rich, full life she recommends to others, and she has recorded it in her journal.
In fact, her journal held prophetic echoes of the future. When she was 11 years old she wrote: “I’m writing this down so that when I’m a grown-up working with youth I will remember what it felt like to be young.”
Understanding the feelings of others is among the finest of Sister Cannon’s many talents. She has a rare gift for recognizing and understanding the sorrows, concerns, and troubles of her fellow beings and providing the comfort they need. A multitude of people can testify that she gave them selfless and compassionate service when they needed it desperately, with no thought of recompense. She has taken many young people into her home and her heart to help them weather crises in their lives. She has shown an uncanny ability to recognize the unexpressed concerns of those around her. Her present calling constantly demands this gift of love and insight.
“I love these girls so much. I really feel that I’m an agent of Christ in loving these young women. And they need it. They need approval. It’s as if they’re saying, ‘I need someone to love me anyway—no matter how I look or what I’m doing or what I’m listening to.’ I feel that if I can love them, then maybe they will believe that Heavenly Father and the Savior can love them. It moves them a step closer to that faith. One of the great opportunities of this job is being in a position to perceive the need of people and respond to it, to validate people in their own minds.
“I feel that I have been called to use everything I am and everything I have ever learned to help Heavenly Father’s children. And I take this responsibility very seriously. I try to stay close to the Lord, and I find that he really does care about the individual. I feel his guidance in the decisions I make. I am very much aware that this is not my program, and so I must always try to know what he wants me to do.”
Sister Cannon’s greatest hope for the youth of the Church is that they will come to know their Savior. “You must come to know Christ. There just isn’t anything so relevant. Some people say to me, ‘What does anybody who lived 2,000 years ago have to say that could mean anything to me today?’ and the answer is ‘everything.’ The gospel of Jesus Christ is always relevant. The answers are there. Christ’s teachings really work. They work for every one of the concerns of youth today. Our challenge is to come to know what Christ is saying. I say to kids, ‘You’ve got to find out for yourselves. Does Christ live? Is he the Son of God?’ There is a plan that operates. God is at the helm. We cannot be happy unless we know this. It is sometimes the one thing that will keep a young man and young woman from making serious mistakes. They must love the Lord more strongly than they are drawn to each other.
“You can talk yourself out of anything, but if you’ve got real faith in the Lord, it will work when mother isn’t there, when the Church system isn’t there, when embarrassment doesn’t apply anymore and conscience may have gone sort of dead. If you love the Lord, you’ll say, ‘I can’t hurt him. He loves me. He cares.’ This was a marvelous thing for the dejected little girl I held in my arms in New York recently. She said, ‘nobody cares.’ I helped her to understand that the Lord cares. And suddenly she could care about herself when she knew that the Greatest of all cares.”

by Spencer Garvey
What Christmas activity do you look forward to most? The Christmas caroling party? The family Christmas dinner? Seeing your mom open the Christmas present you’ve been slaving over for months?
The youth in the Orem 15th Ward, Orem Utah Sharon West Stake, have a unique activity that they think tops all others. It combines the joy of giving with the beauty of service, and capsulizes the message the Savior brought to earth. All by themselves, the youth throw a Christmas party for the mentally handicapped adults in the ward.
Within the ward boundaries are two group homes, sponsored by the American Fork Training School. Residents of the homes, one for women and one for men, have reached a certain level of achievement, and are free to go to church and participate in ward activities. Their favorite activity by far is the annual Christmas party, and they anticipate it for months.
The youth go all out to make it an exciting experience for their special guests. Each class takes charge of one aspect of the evening, from festively decking the cultural hall, to setting up chairs, to planning games and making sure each person from the group homes receives a gift. They buy things that the guests of honor have requested like slippers, books, dominoes, and tapes.
But the preparation is only half the fun. The real excitement starts when the guests arrive, and smiles light their faces brighter than any bulbs on the Christmas tree. The youth in the ward get busy mingling and making sure that nobody stands alone.
“It’s worth it to see their smiles,” said Becky Lant, 16, who was in charge of the affair. “This helps us learn the happiness you get from serving others, and helps us learn to love those we serve.”
Soon everyone becomes involved in a game. The guests joyfully bowl plastic pop bottles over with a basketball. With delighted energy, they throw a soft football through a tire suspended from a basketball standard. The youth are quick to make sure that everyone feels like a winner, even in musical chairs.
“They always come to our basketball or volleyball games and support us,” says Jeff Nelson, 16. “This is the least we can do for them in return. They’re special, they’re nice, and they deserve it.”
But at no time is the Christmas spirit so evident as when everyone in the group sits down together, arms intertwined, and starts singing Christmas carols. As they sing about the wonders of the birth of Christ, the youth and the guests seem to exchange intangible gifts of friendship and caring with each other and with the Savior at the same time.
Later Santa comes bounding in with a bag full of presents. But the gift the guests enjoy most isn’t in the bag. It’s a videotape of the festivities so they can relive them over and over in the coming months.
Soon the party is over, the hugs are hugged, tears of happiness mingle, and Santa leads the way out. His parting cry hangs in the air for all to savor and confirm. “Merry Christmas to all,” he chuckles, “and to all a good night!”

Our ward needed a new deacons quorum president. My counselors and I knelt in our bishopric meeting, as we always do, to seek the Lord’s approval on this and other callings.
Feeling a confirmation of the Spirit, I set up an interview with Víctor Leonardo Jiménez Gonzáles, a young man who had recently turned 12 and was already serving as the deacons quorum secretary.
During the interview, I asked Víctor about his current calling and how he was feeling.
“I’m worried, Bishop,” he answered. “I’m really concerned.”
“Why are you concerned?”
“Well, I want all the deacons to be at church. So today on my way over here, I went to Nicholas and Anthony’s house and woke them up, and then I went over to Jimmy and Luis’s to get them to come. I really get worried, Bishop,” Víctor said.
I was amazed by what he was saying and that a 12-year-old deacons quorum secretary could be so concerned about the other members of his quorum.
“I’m here to serve,” he went on, “and I want to do it right, but I’m one of the lowest leaders.”
“What do you mean ‘one of the lowest leaders’?” I asked.
“Because I’m the secretary. I’m not the president or a counselor. I’m a secretary, and that makes me one of the lowest leaders. But the deacons should be here and they’re not, so I have to go get them because this is where they’re supposed to be. I don’t know why they don’t come. But I have to go get them, Bishop!”
My tears could no longer be restrained, and they spilled from my eyes. Choked with emotion, I said, “You have made me remember why I was called as the bishop. It’s to be concerned about others, to visit and serve them as King Benjamin did. We need to be in the service of others, and then we will be in the service of God. You are not the lowest leader. Everyone who serves plays a role important to our Heavenly Father and His Church.”
To this, he said, “That’s what I learned from my dad. And now when I see you crying, I remember this one time when he talked to me—he was crying and he told me, ‘When you have a responsibility, you have to do it right.’ ”
The tears refreshed my soul, and the young man’s words refreshed my memory. I remembered the great worth of our Heavenly Father’s children when I saw the worth this young man placed on each of the members of his quorum.
I extended a calling as president of the deacons quorum to Víctor. In response he said, “Now I’m really going to work hard. I’m not going to disappoint you, Bishop.”
Even now, some time later, the tears return as I remember this unforgettable interview. I know the divine potential this young man has. He has the future firmly in sight, and his vision of what is important is clear.

Not long ago, I was feeling spiritually adrift. I couldn’t understand it. I was going to church, rattling off prayers, and glancing at my scriptures. I occasionally felt spiritual promptings, but overall, I felt somewhat disconnected.
As I told Heavenly Father this in an anxious prayer, these words came to mind: “Be still, and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10).
It was as if the word still was highlighted, underlined, and in bold type.
I may have been doing all the right things, but I was doing them at high speeds and with shallow focus. I had adopted a distracted approach to living the gospel.
No religious practice could bring me deep spiritual connection if my participation was cursory and distracted. It was much more than a quippy scripture. To come to know God and to connect with the divine, permeating knowledge I was craving, I needed to slow down and be still.
Heeding that prompting wasn’t easy. But it made all the difference.
For me, slowing down meant kneeling and speaking out loud as I prayed. The reverent posture and my own audible words helped me focus better. Slowing down meant studying from physical scriptures and taking physical notes. It takes more effort and time, and that increased effort and time is a good way to “awake and arouse your faculties,” thus allowing the Spirit and the desire for truth to “work in you” and that seed of testimony to “get root, and grow up, and bring forth fruit” (Alma 32:27, 37).

Rachel loved her Sunbeam class. Her teacher, Sister Monson, had something special for them each Sunday to take home to help them remember what she had taught them. Once it was a picture of Jesus praying. Once it was a tiny mirror with “I am a child of God” printed around it. Last Sunday it had been a kitten puppet with a soft tummy for helping Mommy do the dusting. Rachel had named her dustcloth Ditty.
Every day when Mommy did the dusting, Rachel would get Ditty from the cleaning shelf and help. She liked to dust the rocking chair the best. It would gently rock to and fro as she dusted from the very top to the very bottom.
But today Ditty was lost. It wasn’t on the shelf when Mommy started dusting. Rachel had looked everywhere she could think of. But still no Ditty.
Mommy was just finishing the last shelf on the bookshelf when Rachel came into the living room and asked, “Mommy, does Heavenly Father have time for little answers?”
Mommy stopped her dusting and took Rachel’s hand. Together they walked to the couch, and Mommy lifted Rachel up onto her lap. “That sounds like a pretty serious question,” Mommy said. “Do you want to tell me what the problem is?”
“Ditty’s lost,” Rachel explained, “and I’ve looked everywhere. Sister Monson said that Heavenly Father has time to listen to big and little people about important things. I know that He helped when Daddy was looking for a job. And He helped Grandma when she fell and broke her hip. But does Heavenly Father have time to help me find Ditty?”
“Ditty is pretty important to you, isn’t it?” Rachel nodded sadly. Mommy stroked Rachel’s hair and wiped a tear from her cheek. “Well, anything that’s really important to you is important to Him, too,” Mommy assured her. “Would you like me to pray with you about Ditty?”
Rachel nodded, and they knelt together beside the couch.
“Do you want me to say it?” Mommy asked.
“No,” Rachel answered. “It’s my Ditty, so it should be my prayer.”
Mommy nodded and bowed her head. Rachel began.
“Heavenly Father, I thank Thee for Mommy and Daddy and all our nice things. Please help me to find Ditty. It’s important to me because Sister Monson gave it to me and because it helps me help Mommy. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”
Rachel and Mommy stayed kneeling quietly for a few minutes. Then Rachel smiled and reached for Mommy’s hand. “I just remembered where Ditty is!” Rachel said. “I was using it when I hid behind the couch to surprise Daddy yesterday.” She jumped up and looked behind the couch. Sure enough, there was Ditty. Rachel got it and crawled out to Mommy’s waiting arms. “He really did have time for a little answer, didn’t He?”
“Yes, Rachel,” Mommy reassured her, “and He always will.”

The invitation to attend came about through a communication, the letterhead bearing the imprint of the royal crown and the heading “Honor Semper—SOVEREIGN ORDER OF CYPRUS.” With the approval of the author I quote the letter:
(Received September 1, 1971)
My dear Mr. Benson:
Given the task [by the king] of inviting world religious leaders to the 2500th anniversary of Cyrus the Great, in Iran—I should like to have a Mormon leader included.
Having been with you in Innsbruck, Austria, and of course knowing your distinction, I write to ask if you would be with us or, if not, could you help us to get proper Mormon representation.
The time is short, as the dates are Oct. 10 to 17. Transportation and hospitality is paid. This is the greatest celebration in the history of Iran—royalty, heads of State, diplomats will be present.
Kindly give thought to the above and let me know soon. Thank you for your courtesy and with continued high regards,
Baron Frary von Blomberg
President
World Fellowship of Religions
The Innsbruck, Austria, meeting referred to in the Baron’s letter occurred in this manner. In 1964, just before the opening of the Winter Olympics, we were touring the Austrian Mission of the Church. On the tour were President Peter Locher, his wife, and Sister Benson. And on that tour we were to dedicate a lovely chapel, just finished, in Innsbruck. Some six hundred people crowded the building designed to serve a growing branch of two hundred. Invited and present were the mayor of Innsbruck, the national senator of the area, and, with the mayor, Baron von Blomberg. The new chapel was located on a new street, unpaved except in front of our property. In his most fitting talk the mayor explained that while they “didn’t quite have enough time to get the entire street paved, we were able to complete the street and sidewalk paving in front of your property in time for this dedication.”
It was a lovely, spirited service of gratitude and rejoicing for the restored gospel. As the baron said, when he confirmed the letter of invitation by long-distance telephone, “I remember well the spirit of that occasion and how deeply I was impressed by the messages given.” Yes, my brothers and sisters, the Spirit is very real. You cannot fool the Spirit. Some people try, only to learn of their own folly.
And so that is the genesis of the invitation. The office of the First Presidency, after seeing the letter of invitation and knowing that I would be in Europe at the time—and with all expenses paid—advised me to attend this unusual celebration.

I went with my family to visit my parents’ village for a New Year celebration. It had been three years since we had visited last, and we were looking forward to seeing friends and family members again. When we arrived, we were happily welcomed.
When New Year’s Eve came, we gathered with others for a traditional ceremony to wish protection, long life, and prosperity to the oldest son of each family. I am the oldest son in my family. I learned that all those taking part would be expected to drink wine as part of the ceremony.
I was very worried. I knew that drinking the wine would be breaking the Word of Wisdom. But I also knew that if I did not drink the wine, I might be punished for being disrespectful—and my family might be punished too. Then I remembered what my mother had taught me: when you find yourself in a situation you cannot control, you should pray to Heavenly Father and ask Him to help you.
I prayed silently, “Heavenly Father, let Thy Spirit guide me and help me to do what is right.”
When it was my turn to drink the wine, I was nervous, but I spoke loudly and clearly. “My body is a temple. I will not break the Word of Wisdom,” I said.
The village elder was very surprised. He turned to me and said, “You seem very sure of what you are doing. Please, we would like to hear more of your views.”
My family and I were not punished, and our faith was strengthened. I know Heavenly Father helped me have the courage to choose the right.

Roger had lost his construction business a few years earlier and was working as a taxi driver in Antananarivo, Madagascar.
From a temporal perspective, Roger credits Heavenly Father with helping him rebuild his business. After two years of driving a taxi and doing whatever he could to provide for his family, he started receiving construction contracts. “I believe that God always blesses me when I decide to follow Him,” he said.

“When I think back to when I was a young adult, one of the things that comes to my mind is when I was a missionary in England. It was just after World War II, and the Church of Jesus Christ was just getting reestablished there. I was responsible for being a leader in my mission, and I was only 20 years old! I admit that as missionaries, we were a little reckless at that age.
“One day a man invited me to come to a debating society meeting and represent our Church. I agreed to attend, but I had no idea what I was walking into! I found myself in the position of explaining the Church to a large group of people and answering their questions. It was on that occasion that I had my first realization of the power of the Holy Ghost. I’d taught about the Holy Ghost, and I’d read about it, but on this occasion I experienced it.
“As questions were asked, I had the answer in my mind before they had finished asking the question. I had the ability to move through the scriptures in a way that I had never experienced before. It seemed to me that the pages were being turned by someone else as I defended the Church.
“As I think back to that experience 73 years ago, I realize I learned something that has blessed me all these years. I came to know for myself that the Holy Ghost is in fact the Comforter and that by and through God’s power, He brings to our mind the words of the Lord.
“I hope you’re having the same experience as a young adult. Stay anchored in your study of the scriptures, and say your prayers every day. Start your day with a prayer, end your day with a prayer, and talk to the Lord as necessary throughout the day. Whatever your circumstances, I hope you will have the same experience I had with the Holy Ghost at your age.”
President M. Russell Ballard, Facebook, Apr. 14, 2021, facebook.com/mrussell.ballard.

In January 1521, Luther was excommunicated from the church, and soon after he was summoned to the city of Worms to meet before an assembly of princes and representatives from the free cities of Germany. At the meeting Luther was given the opportunity to deny that he had written certain books against the church, but Luther refused. He replied, “… I cannot and will not retract anything, since to act against one’s conscience is neither safe nor right. God help me, Amen!”

Luther received safe-conduct from the meeting and for the next twenty-one days. After that he would be considered an outlaw and could be killed on sight. Midway on the trip back to Wittenberg, Luther was “kidnapped” by prearrangement with his friend, Frederick of Saxony, and taken to Wartburg Castle where Luther would be safe.

Disguised as a knight, and wearing a sword and a beard, Luther spent several months in the castle studying, writing letters to friends, and translating the New Testament from Latin into German. He completed the translation of the whole Bible thirteen years later, which allowed the common people to read that sacred book for the first time. More than three centuries later, Joseph Smith said of Luther’s Bible: “I find it to be the most correct that I have found.”

When I served as a member of the Europe Area Presidency, I was in Ireland for a mission tour and district conference. At that conference President John O‘Farrell, the first counselor in the Ireland Dublin Mission presidency, spoke and asked a most interesting question:
“Where would I be without the Church?”
He asked the congregation, “Where would you be without the gospel in your life?” He proposed that, “Here in Ireland, without the gospel we would likely be down at the local bar, drinking beer, and telling inappropriate stories.”
Each of us might well ask that question: “Where would I be without the Church?”
What a blessing it is to have the gospel in our lives and to enjoy its saving power.
My dear young friends, may I share with you from the experience of others and from personal testimony my conviction that the gospel has a dramatic power to change lives. The scriptures are full of stories of men and women whose lives were changed by its influence.
Think of Matthew, a despised tax collector who followed the Savior. Where would he have been had he not met the Master and had continued to seek earthly rather than heavenly wealth? (See Matt. 9:9.)
Think of Saul, the tent maker of Tarsus, and his dramatic confrontation with God on that fateful day near Damascus. He held the coats of those who martyred Stephen, and he went “breathing out threatenings and slaughter against the disciples of the Lord” (Acts 9:1). Where would Saul have been—what would he have become—had not the Lord taken charge and turned anger and hatred into desire and dedication?
Peter and Andrew, James and John heeded the call to leave their nets and become “fishers of men” (see Matt. 4:18–22). It wasn’t easy for these men, it wasn’t convenient—it seldom is, in purely worldly terms—but the Savior’s call was answered, and they were never the same again.
But what of today? Are there still such stories? Definitely, yes!
Let me take you to Huddlesfield, England, for a personal testimony of a sweet sister named Mina Kreslins. She was born in Amsterdam, Holland, into the Jewish faith. She had lost her parents and brothers and sisters during the wartime occupation of that country.
She tells in the testimony of her conversion, “I was bitter, and although I prayed, I just could not forgive.”
Then in early October 1983, her daughter Karla came into contact with the missionaries. Karla became interested in the gospel and was converted. She invited her mother, Mina Kreslins, to attend her baptism.
“It was at Karla’s baptism I felt the Spirit. It was so strong. I had never felt anything so beautiful in my whole life. I felt so elated and so wonderful, and I wanted to become part of it.”
The missionaries began teaching Sister Kreslins, and the Spirit bore witness to her of what they said. “When they told me about Joseph Smith and the Restoration, the Spirit was so strong, from my head to my feet. I knew then, with all my heart, that the Church was true and that I had to be part of it.”
“My baptism was beautiful. No words can describe the feeling I had as I came out of the water. I felt so clean—almost holy. When I received the Holy Ghost, I felt wonderful. I wanted to shout for joy. Finally, there was rest and relief from the horrors and the hating of those war-torn years.
“Now, since I have become a member of this beautiful Church, I have forgiven and I have no bitterness in my heart.”
Where would Mina Kreslins be today without the gospel?
I have asked that serious question of myself: “Where would I be without the gospel?”
It was that gospel testimony that helped me to say no to my Navy friends when our first leave came while I was in training camp in early 1944. My naval colleagues invited me to share in their worldly activities; to prove that I was a “man” by getting a tattoo, and then going after drink and women.
I was the only Latter-day Saint in that group, and, yes, I felt a little lonely as I left them to go by myself to the servicemen’s recreation center and then to a movie. The following day I found Church services and Church friends who strengthened and reinforced a lonely Mormon boy from Provo, Utah.
To have come home from the service in world War II still living a virtuous life has held eternal rewards for me.
The power of Satan is increasing. You see it all about you in books, in magazines, in movies, and on television. You can resist that evil only by putting on the whole armor of God (see Eph. 6:13–17). Put on God’s spiritual armor, for it will protect all who wear it against the deadly weapons of evil and wickedness.
Without the gospel, we would not have available to us the whole armor of God, which is a shield of faith and truly a breastplate of righteousness.
You, in your youth, can have the blessings that come with living a righteous life. You don’t have to wait until you are an old man or an old woman. There is much you can do to build the kingdom—much, indeed, that a priest or a Laurel, a teacher or a Mia Maid, or a deacon or a Beehive can do. Remember that it was through a fifteen-year-old Joseph Smith that the gospel light was given back to the world.
Only Satan would have you underestimate your worth; those who truly follow God know well the worth of souls (see D&C 18:10).
Let us learn our lessons well so that we might be profitable servants. Make full use of the educational opportunities the world offers, but support them with the spiritual strength that comes through seminary classes. Seeking then serving, and learning then living is the process.
I testify to you that the gospel can change lives and that we have a loving and caring Heavenly Father who knows each of us and our hopes and desires, our strengths and weaknesses.