Gospel Story Finder

Watch, in this next example, how one missionary moved because of his personal honesty from going through gospel motions to discovering the truest of the gospel's emotions. He writes: "When I began my mission, I was unsure of my testimony, but was caught up in trying to understand what missionaries did. . . . Yet I yearned to say 'I know', not 'I believe.' As time went on, I had experiences in which I saw for myself how the Spirit literally changed the lives of our investigators, members, and other missionaries. After several months, I found myself saying with complete integrity that the Lord had influenced my life. I discovered that for me a testimony is a gradual, growing thing rather than a sudden yes or no event. Through all of this, I never changed my conviction about being honest with myself. Because of that honesty, the spiritual experiences I did have meant more to me, because I knew they were real. "I could trace my development through the verses in Alma 32, which became a source of great comfort and understanding for me. As Alma put it, 'For ye know that the word . . . hath sprouted up . . . that your understanding doth begin to be enlightened, and your mind doth begin to expand. O then is not this real? I say unto you, Yea.'[4] Real people come to know why they do what they do and their actions are consistent with what they feel in their hearts.

It was Alma and the Spirit who converted me to the gospel over 30 years ago. My husband and I strongly felt that we should bring up our daughter with some type of religious background. As we investigated many churches, the Lord sent people to talk to us about the LDS Church. It was back in the days before the three-hour block schedule we now have, and every time we went to the local church building, there was no one there. We thought, “This is strange.”

The Lord sent a member of the Church to my husband’s place of business in Los Angeles to talk to him about food storage. At the same time, a coworker and I talked about our desire to find a church, and we found out that she had an LDS babysitter. So we arranged to have a dinner at my coworker’s home and invite the babysitter and her husband so they could teach us more about the Church. At the last minute, the LDS couple couldn’t make it, but they sent the ward mission leader, and we saw the filmstrip Meet the Mormons. But we lived in a different mission from my coworker. We wanted the full-time missionaries to come teach us the gospel, but our names were lost several times.

Finally our missionaries came. We opened the door and asked them, “What took you so long?” I will always be eternally grateful to Elder Wardle and Elder Mulford for their choices to go on missions. As I read the Book of Mormon for the first time, Alma 32:27 came so powerfully to me: “If ye will . . . experiment upon my words.” I could do that! While the choice to join the Church brought some opposition from our extended families, it was, and still is, the best decision we ever made.

“Mom, something happened at school today that’s really bothering me.” Angie dropped her backpack on the floor and flopped down on the couch.
Mom looked up from the book she was reading. “Oh? What happened?”
“Well, there’s a new boy named Musa in my class.”
“That’s great!” Mom said. “Did you talk to him?”
“No, and I don’t want to!” Angie said. “He’s mean.”
“What did he do?”
Angie scowled. “I saw him walking to school with his sister. He made her walk behind him the whole way! Every time she tried to walk next to him, he’d hurry and get in front of her. It made me so mad.”
Mom frowned. “That doesn’t sound very nice. Maybe he could use a friend like you to show him how to treat others with love.”
Just then, Angie’s younger sister, Meghan, rushed in. “Mom, guess what? There’s a new girl in my class! Her name is Dalia Kader. Isn’t that a beautiful name?”
“I think her brother is in my class,” Angie said.
“Really? You’re so lucky.”
Angie frowned. “Lucky? Why?”
“Dalia told me all about him!”
“I bet she did,” Angie muttered.
“She said she had to put some eye drops in this morning, and she was supposed to wear sunglasses to protect her eyes, but she forgot. So when they walked to school, Musa walked in front of her the whole way to shade her from the sun. Wasn’t that so nice?”
Angie blinked in surprised. Had she misjudged Musa?
“He sounds like a very thoughtful brother,” Mom said.
“He is!” Meghan said. “And when they got to school, he walked with her to the office so they could call home. And he stayed with her until her mom brought the sunglasses.”
Wow, Angie thought. I guess I didn’t see what was really happening.
Meghan sat down next to Angie on the couch. “Dalia’s sunglasses are really cool! They’re purple with jewels on them. Mom, can I invite her over this week? We could both wear our sunglasses and play dress-up!”
“Good idea,” Mom said. “Why don’t you invite Musa too? I’d like to meet both of them. What do you think, Angie?”
“I’d like to meet them too.” Angie smiled. “I think Musa would be a great friend.”

Early in 1957, two missionaries knocked on his mother’s door and she invited them in. This was the start of John Douglas Jeffrey’s learning about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. As he and his mother spent time with the missionaries, the Holy Ghost bore witness to him that the Church was true because the missionaries were able to answer all of his questions.
Later, John moved to Townsville, Queensland, where he met more missionaries who continued to teach him, and also his new wife, Lois. In September 1957 they became the first people to join the Church in Townsville. He was baptised in Bluewater Creek just north of Townsville. (Baptisms in creeks or swimming pools were common in the early days of the Church.)
“Learning about the true Church changed my life,” John reflects. “I have wondered what I would have done if my mother said ‘no’ when those missionaries knocked on her door!” With a new gospel perspective, John and Lois saved up to visit the Hamilton New Zealand Temple, where their family was sealed for time and all eternity. “It took us a good while because we had four children and of course we had to take them to be sealed to us!”
John taught at the Townsville Grammar School and witnessed the struggles of a growing small branch. In those days there were few chapels in Australia and members met in homes or in rented halls. After 15 years in Townsville, he received an invitation to teach at the relatively new police academy in Oxley, Brisbane. He had only been at the police academy two years when he was invited to join the Church Educational System as a coordinator in Brisbane.
The first stake in Queensland was organized in 1960 with William E Waters called as the stake president. He was followed by a man from Scotland called William E Proctor. It was during this time that John was called to be the bishop of the Inala Ward. His time as bishop was short because after two years he was called to serve on the high council.
In those days, the geographic area of the stake was huge, covering much of the southeast of Queensland around Brisbane — north to Nambour, south to the Gold Coast, and west to Toowoomba. In 1975, John was called as president of the Brisbane Australia Stake.
President Jeffrey noticed how far some members had to travel to get to church each week, so he took a map and drew an 8 km radius around each congregation. He then worked with Church physical facility authorities in Sydney to create branches in the areas lying within those circles. Those branches met in school halls until they were strong enough to qualify for a chapel. This meant that members didn’t have to drive as far to attend Church meetings. This direction paved the way for the future growth of membership in Queensland.
In 1978, just three years after his call as the Brisbane Stake president, John recommended the stake be divided. He then became the president of the new Brisbane Australia South Stake. Only three years after that, in 1981, another stake was created and called the Brisbane Australia West Stake.
Today there are 12 stakes in the greater Brisbane area.

My birthday party is next week! I hope you can come.
My mom said I could only invite five friends. Sorry.
Hi, Becky! How was—
Sweetie, what’s wrong?
Kristie’s having a party, but I’m not invited.
I feel so left out.
That’s really hard. I’m sorry your feelings are hurt.
It’s not fair!
Maybe there’s a reason we don’t know about.
Dear Heavenly Father, please help me forgive Kristie for not inviting me.
The next day …
Hi, Kristie.
Hi, Becky. Sorry I couldn’t invite you to my party.
It’s OK. Do you want to jump rope with me?
A few months later …
Time to plan your birthday party! Who are you going to invite?
Kate and Jenny and Latisha. And …
Kristie didn’t invite me to her party. But she’s still my friend.
Do you want to come to my party, Kristie?
Yes! Thank you for inviting me!

Those who come from a family where no one attends the temple can be a great example to their families if they have a positive attitude toward the temple. A former temple matron describes hearing a young woman speak in sacrament meeting about the temple. “Her parents are divorced, and there has been a lot of sadness in their family. But this bright spirit stood at the pulpit telling how she wants to go to the temple and how to prepare for it. Her father was there to hear it, and he hadn’t been to church for years. She’s drawing their family together and has been a wonderful example to them.”

While swimming in Provo River, the teenage Tom Monson saw a crowd of vacationers shouting frantically that a member of their group had fallen into the river and was likely to drown in the whirlpools toward which she was being swept. At just that moment, she thrashed her way into Tom’s view. He swam to her side, took her in tow, and made his way to the bank.
“They were very generous in their gratitude and credited me with saving her life,” Brother Monson would later report. “But I think I just happened to be in the right place at the right time in order to give help.”

When the teachers in Kaiserslautern, Germany, begin to wonder if all the days of classes, grading papers, school lunch, and noisy students are worth it, the youth of the Landstuhl Ward like to remind them of their value. Each year for the last six years, the youth have honored their teachers with a teacher appreciation night.
The theme the Landstuhl youth chose for this year was “For the Strength of Youth.” They made a memory and quote book for their teachers and thanked them for their guidance, knowledge, and service. The youth also treated them to dinner in the cultural hall, which they decorated especially for the occasion, and they put on a show that kept them entertained. On each dinner table were copies of For the Strength of Youth for the teachers to take home with them. Their teachers really appreciate being appreciated.

When my grandma on my mom’s side first started struggling with dementia, she moved in with my family. During this time, she told me stories I hadn’t heard before. Each time she finished a story, she gave me a hug and said, “I’m sure glad you’re mine.” I could always find pieces of myself in the moments she shared—it made me realize how much I truly am hers.

“When I was your age, I’d rather dance than eat!” my grandma said. This was how she started one of my favorite stories. She got asked to a dance by a boy who she knew wasn’t exactly the best dancer. I could picture her standing in her school gym when her date came to ask her if she was ready to dance. She had been stalling, but she knew she couldn’t put it off forever. The next song was one of her favorites, and her foot started tapping, almost as if to spite her. She smiled at him and let him lead her out onto the dance floor.

“And wouldn’t you know, he’d been taking dancing lessons the whole time!” my grandma exclaimed at the end of her story. “I had the time of my life!”

This story introduced me to a different version of my grandma. She was suddenly a young girl I could relate to. It always made me smile to picture her happy as could be on a dance floor.

I read this wonderful story about an experience President Howard W. Hunter (1907–1995) had in a small store in California. He paid the clerk 10 pennies for 10 pieces of liquorice. Upon counting the pieces later on, he realised that he had ended up with 11 pieces instead of the 10 that he paid for. While he could have overlooked the error—after all, it was just a penny, and who would know the difference—he didn’t think twice and went back to the store. He explained the problem to the clerk, apologised and paid for the extra piece of liquorice, much to the surprise of the clerk3.

One day, I was really excited about being with my friends at kindergarten. I wore my CTR ring and necklace to school.
A new girl in my class is really mean. At recess that day, all my friends were around her, so I went over to see what was going on. The new girl had made up a new club, and all of my friends had joined it. She asked if I wanted to join. I asked her what kind of a club it was and what I had to do to be a member.
She said, “In order to be in my club, first you have to raise your right hand and say, ‘There is no God’ and ‘Jesus does not live and has never lived.’”
It made my heart hurt! I looked down at the CTR ring on my finger. Then I looked at the mean girl and said, “You are very, very wrong. There is a God, and Jesus does live. If this is what I have to say, then I don’t want to be in your club.”
After I said that, she pushed me really hard, and all my friends laughed and made fun of me.
I told my mom about it that night and cried and cried. She told me she was proud of me and cried with me. She said, “Taylor, you know that you belong to something better than the best club in the whole wide world. You belong to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and it doesn’t have ten or twelve members. It has millions of members. And it is true. The gospel is true.” She told me that I had a lot of courage to stand up for God, Jesus Christ, and the gospel.
When I prayed that night, I asked Heavenly Father to help the mean girl know that He and Jesus live.
The next day at school, the girl went up to our teacher and asked her, “Do you believe there is a God? And do you believe that Jesus really lived?”
The teacher said, “Yes, I do believe in God. And yes, I do believe that Jesus lived.”
My friends came up to me later and said that they were sorry and that they didn’t want to be in that club anymore.
And the next day after that, the girl came to me at recess and asked, “Can you tell me a little bit about your church?”
I am really glad that I know that there is a God and that Jesus Christ lives and that I stood up for what I believe.

In the performance of home teaching the teacher has a special opportunity to bless the lives of others and lead them to eternal life. An acquaintance of mine told me of an experience that will help to illustrate this point. “Recently,” he said, “a man and his teacher-age son were assigned to our family as home teachers. We knew of the father’s dedication to the gospel but did not know what to expect from his son, although the young man’s appearance and conduct seemed to reflect the same dedication. During their first visit with us, I kept my eye on this young man. Though reasonably quiet, everything that he did or said brought dignity to the priesthood he bore. Soon they learned that our young son had passed away a year ago and that we were expecting another child. From that moment on they were a special part of our lives as they prayed for and encouraged us. At the conclusion of that first visit I asked the young man to offer a prayer. In his prayer he asked the Lord to sustain us in the loss of our son and to bless the child that soon would be born. He specifically prayed that my wife would have no difficulty in delivering the baby. My wife and I were overcome by the sincerity and sensitivity of this young teacher. During the days and weeks that followed these brethren inquired about us regularly (more often than once a month). Following the birth of the baby, the young man, with his father, brought a gift. As we all knelt in prayer the teacher expressed his gratitude to the Lord for the safe delivery of the child.” Here is a young man who understands the importance of the assignment given him by the Lord. Other examples could be given. Home teaching is just one way in which we can use the priesthood to bless the lives of others.

Brother Misalucha told about sharing the gospel with a friend, Larry Yumul. “He asked me why I became a Latter-day Saint,” Brother Misalucha said. “I told him that I had been looking for a church with more answers, a church that practiced what it preached, a church that could teach us things we hadn’t known before.”

Two and one-half months later, Brother Yumul joined the Church. He had a neighbor who used to profane, gamble, and dump his trash in front of the Yumuls’ house. Brother Yumul’s attitude toward him changed. “He began treating him like a good neighbor and tried to be a good Christian to him,” Brother Misalucha explained. “The formerly lousy neighbor cleaned up his act and joined the Church! Now he’s shared the gospel with another family, and they’ve been baptized, and they’ve helped introduce the missionaries to another family that also joined the Church!”

Last January my sweetheart, Grace, and I received an assignment to visit the members in the Philippines who were devastated by a major earthquake and a super typhoon. We rejoiced because the assignment was an answer to our prayers and a testament to the mercy and goodness of a loving Father in Heaven. It provided some closure to our longing to personally express to them our love and concern.
Most of the members we met were still living in temporary shelters like tents, community centers, and Church meetinghouses. The homes we visited had either partial roofing or no roofing at all. The people did not have much to begin with, and what little they had was swept away. There was mud and debris everywhere. However, they were full of gratitude for the little help they received and were in good spirits despite their very difficult circumstances. When we asked them how they were coping, everyone responded with a resounding, “We’re OK.” Obviously, their faith in Jesus Christ gave them hope that everything would work out eventually. Home after home, tent after tent, Sister Teh and I were being taught by these faithful Saints.

When we got to the pile of junk, we had to lift off an old bedspring so that we could sift through the smaller things underneath. Ed found a rusted shovel he could sharpen and fit with a new handle. And I dug out a powder compact with a mirror. There was a pretty good washbasin that could be fixed by pulling a rag through the hole, and one or two bottles to add to my collection. We found a stove poker and a coal scuttle that were better than the ones we were using at home, so we decided to take them to Mama.

We put the other treasures inside the coal scuttle and sat down on the edge of the bedspring to talk. “You’re lucky you’re not going to school,” Ed complained. “There’s always some big bully who wants to beat you up at recess. And the teacher is mean. If you don’t know the answers, he cracks your knuckles with a ruler, or makes you sit in the corner, or has you write I WILL NOT FORGET TO STUDY MY LESSONS a hundred times on the blackboard after school. Just think of all the fun you can have outside while I’m cooped up at school!”

“It’s no fun being all alone,” I disagreed. “Besides, I want to learn to read.”

“What for? Who needs to read?”

“I do. There are places to find out about that I’ll never see and lots of things to learn that are written down.”

“It’s not fair that you get to stay home.” Ed accented each word with a bounce on the springs. “Say, these are pretty good springs. Couldn’t we use them?”

“There’s no place to put them,” I replied.

“That’s too bad,” he said, jumping higher.

“We could take them to our Indian grandma,” I suggested. “Then she wouldn’t have to sleep on that hard ground.”

“Yeah,” he agreed.

“Maybe I could make her a mattress with corn shucks like Mama made.”

The more I thought about it the more I liked the idea. Piecing together the scraps for the mattress would help fill the days when everyone else was at school.

Ed picked up the coal bucket with our treasures, and we hurried home to ask Papa if he’d pick up the springs with the wagon.

All of a sudden I felt anxious for school to start so I could get on with my project for Grandma. Mama was glad I had something to keep me busy and helped me find plenty of scraps of heavy material to stitch together for the mattress. She was true to her promise about the ABC’s, too, and took me to the store the first day everyone else was back in school. She hesitated a little over the cost, and Mr. Younger said, “I have another set I can let you have for less because the box got lost when they were displayed in the window, and I had to put them into another box.”

Mama said that would be fine, and he climbed up his ladder to get the box off a high shelf. It had a picture of a beautiful lady in a wide-brimmed hat, and I liked it better than the proper box that only had a picture of the ABC’s that were already inside. The letters were printed in black on blue cards, and some of them had faded in the window, but that didn’t matter. Mr. Younger said there were four sets: lower and upper case in printing and cursive, with extras of the most-used letters.

“She can make words until the cows come home,” he said.

That’s exactly what I intended to do. I didn’t know what he meant by cursive and upper and lower case, but I knew right where I was going to hide the box in the loft so no one else would find it and lose any letters.

The days went fast while the others were at school. I made words with my cards the same as the ones in the nursery rhyme book and practiced copying the letters on a piece of blackboard I’d found at the junkyard. When I got tired of that I’d come down from the loft and sew on the quilt pieces until Caroline and Ed came home.

To make sure I could go to school the next year, I practiced talking while I sewed. I learned to say things like, “Peter Piper picked a peck of prickly, pickled peppers,” or “Bumpy rubber buggy bumpers.” Sometimes I could say them better than Ed.

After I’d pieced together the top and bottom for the mattress, Mama showed me how to put the clean, dry corn shucks between the layers of cloth and tack it together in enough places so they stayed where they should. Corn shucks make a nice, friendly mattress that whispers and sighs all night, like someone is keeping you company. It would keep Grandma from being lonely while she slept.

Each spring we got more of our land under cultivation, and by the third or fourth year it was producing abundantly. The pastureland was fenced, and the eucalyptus trees we had planted for shade and as a windbreak were starting to do their job. The orchard was growing bigger, both in size and number of trees, and we had more horses, cows, chickens—even some new pigs. Every penny Papa earned went back into improving the farm.

As the farm grew, so did the family. Soon we had three more girls, and they, too, were named in alphabetical order—Helen, Ida, and Janice.

Janice was a weak little girl with a bad heart. If she cried hard or got too excited, she couldn’t get her breath and went into a fainting spell.

One time Papa and Mama took Janice to the doctor in Harmony to see if anything could be done for her. The three boys and I were trying to think of a game to play while they were gone.

“Want to play hopscotch?” I asked as I scratched the pattern in the dirt with a stick.

“Naw, that’s a sissy game,” Ed scoffed.

“Besides, it makes you too hot,” Frank said.

“Let’s go over to Grandma’s then,” I suggested, “and see if she still likes her mattress.” Even after all this time I could get excited just thinking about how much I’d enjoyed making it and how pleased she was when we took it over to her.

On the evening on the 21st of September, A.D. 1823, while I was praying unto God, and endeavoring to exercise faith in the precious promises of Scripture, all of a sudden a light like that of day, only of a far purer and more glorious appearance and brightness, burst into the room, indeed the first sight was as though the house was filled with consuming fire; the appearance produced a shock that affected the whole body; in a moment, a personage stood before me surrounded with a glory yet greater than that with which I was already surrounded. This messenger proclaimed himself to be an angel of God, sent to bring the joyful tidings that the covenant which God made with ancient Israel was at hand to be fulfilled, that the preparatory work for the second coming of the Messiah was speedily to commence; that the time was at hand for the Gospel in all its fullness to be preached in power, unto all nations that a people might be prepared for the Millennial reign. I was informed that I was chosen to be an instrument in the hands of God to bring about some of His purposes in this glorious dispensation.
I was also informed concerning the aboriginal inhabitants of this country and shown who they were, and from whence they came; a brief sketch of their origin, progress, civilization, laws, governments, of their righteousness and iniquity, and the blessings of God being finally withdrawn from them as a people, was made known unto me; I was also told where were deposited some plates on which were engraven an abridgment of the records of the ancient Prophets that had existed on this continent. The angel appeared to me three times the same night and unfolded the same things. After having received many visits from the angels of God unfolding the majesty and glory of the events that should transpire in the last days, on the morning of the 22nd of September, A.D. 1827, the angel of the Lord delivered the records into my hands.
These records were engraven on plates which had the appearance of gold, each plate was six inches wide and eight inches long, and not quite so thick as common tin. They were filled with engravings, in Egyptian characters, and bound together in a volume as the leaves of a book, with three rings running through the whole. The volume was something near 15 cm. in thickness, a part of which was sealed. The characters on the unsealed part were small, and beautifully engraved. The whole book exhibited many marks of antiquity in its construction, and much skill in the art of engraving. With the records was found a curious instrument, which the ancients called “Urim and Thummim,” which consisted of two transparent stones set in the rim of a bow fastened to a breast plate. Through the medium of the Urim and Thummim, I translated the record by the gift and power of God.

As I’ve reflected on this experience, I’ve quizzed myself, How well do I remember those two memorization requirements? I discovered I could still name the Twelve Apostles that existed at that time—Rudger Clawson, Reed Smoot, George Albert Smith, George F. Richards, David O. McKay, Joseph Fielding Smith, Stephen L Richards, Richard R. Lyman, Melvin J. Ballard, John A. Widtsoe, Joseph F. Merrill, and Charles A. Callis. But after the first five articles of faith, I had trouble remembering their order and their full content. I needed a refresher course! I photocopied the Articles of Faith from the scriptures and taped them to the wall of my bathroom where I could see them each morning as I was brushing my teeth and shaving. Within a very few days, I again had them firmly in mind. This experience has brought a deep conviction to me that they were given by revelation to the Prophet Joseph Smith. I reached the conclusion that if I studied the content of each of the Articles of Faith, I could explain and defend every gospel principle I might have the opportunity to expound to someone searching for the restored truth.

As members of the Church, we are invited often to sustain people in callings to serve. Years ago an 18-year-old student showed me what it means to sustain the Lord’s servants. I am still blessed by his humble example.
He had just begun his first year in college. He was baptized less than a year before he left home to begin his studies at a large university. There I served as his bishop.
As the school year began, I had a brief interview with him in the bishop’s office. I remember little of that first conversation except that he spoke of his challenges in a new place, but I will never forget our second conversation.
He asked to see me in my office. I was surprised when he said, “Could we pray together, and may I be voice?” I was about to say that I had already prayed and expected that he had as well. Instead I agreed.
He began his prayer with a testimony that he knew the bishop was called of God. He asked God to tell me what he should do in a matter of great spiritual consequence. The young man told God he was sure the bishop already knew his needs and would be given the counsel he needed to hear.
As he spoke, the specific dangers he would face came to my mind. The counsel was simple but given in great clarity: pray always, obey the commandments, and have no fear.
That young man, one year in the Church, taught by example what God can do with a leader as he is sustained by the faith and prayers of those he is called to lead. That young man demonstrated for me the power of the law of common consent in the Church (see D&C 26:2). Even though the Lord calls His servants by revelation, they can function only after being sustained by those they are called to serve.

I used to hear the story, when I first came under President Harold B. Lee’s influence in the welfare program, about a man whom they could not get to work. He wanted to be taken care of. The Church or government, so he thought, owed him a living because he had paid his tithing and taxes. He did not have anything to eat and refused to labor to care for himself. Out of desperation and disgust they decided they might as well take him to the cemetery.

On the way, one man said, “We can’t do this. I have some corn I will give to him.”

So they explained this to the man, and he said, “Is it husked?”

They said, “No.”

He said, “Well, then, drive on.”

This would not be humorous if it were not so close to the truth. You cannot save a man who has such an attitude, and a nation made up of men and women with similar attitudes is vulnerable to the problems which led to the fall of Rome. The saddest day of a person’s life is when he sits down to work out a means whereby he can live thereafter without his own effort. One of the most demeaning things a government can do is to teach people that the government owes them a living.

I believe one of BYU’s brilliant stars is Jared Steele. Jared was not a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints when he came to BYU, and he had no interest in pursuing religion while he was here. He just wanted to focus on completing his education without any distractions, and BYU’s reputation for chocolate milk consumption over partying fit the bill.

Jared worked closely with Professor Iain Hunter to better understand the biomechanics of distance running. He pursued his education and research with rigor. Because faith is so seamlessly integrated with scholarship at BYU, in Jared’s words, “it just started to seep in.”

Professor Hunter, along with other students and faculty in the BYU Department of Exercise Sciences, magnified their work through the Light of Christ. They captured the essence of what President Kimball referenced as “bilingual”: speaking “in the language of scholarship” and in the language of faith. In 2023, Jared was baptized by Professor Matt Seeley and then confirmed a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints by Professor Hunter.

Jared shared, “I always used to think that science and religion were two very distinctly different things. But the longer that I have been here, I see that they actually help each other. As my faith has grown, so has my ability to be a scientist.”

Jared, I think President Nelson would agree with you. In the dedication of the BYU Life Sciences Building, he said, “Whether truth comes from a scientific laboratory or by revelation from the Lord, it is compatible.”

Through his experience with the integration of faith and science, Jared found that he was in the beveling process—preparing for the light he would shine for the world.

Jared’s research focused on the super shoe, a running shoe that helps distance runners reduce their running time. This is a significant endeavor all on its own, but, like stained glass, when illuminated by the Light of Christ, its reach and impact are even more magnificent. This was manifest as Jared was inspired to expand the shoe’s benefits to bless the lives of countless others.

Jared’s dad had suffered a heart attack, and Jared was actively part of the recovery process. He frequently walked with his dad, who became winded after only two minutes. Through this experience, the Spirit, who often talks to us through thoughts, sparked the idea of adapting the super shoe to speed up the recovery time for vulnerable populations, including heart attack and stroke patients. Jared was confident that he could leverage the technology to make each step more efficient and less taxing on the body. In the lab, he dedicated his time to testing his theory—with great success.

As one of the brilliant stars at BYU, Jared is ready to share his light and knowledge to improve the quality of life for those who suffer from heart attacks, strokes, or illnesses or who are recovering from surgeries—all for the benefit of the world.

Jared is a great reflection of Matthew 5:16: “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father [who] is in Heaven.”

Remembering President Nelson’s one hundredth birthday service initiative, I see Jared as a great example of ninety-nine plus one. While Jared may have been “the one” when he first came to BYU—one who Professors Hunter and Seeley saw and served—Jared readily took on the other role as he ministered to the one, caring for his dad at home. When Jared served the one, God was able to show him how he could expand his reach and serve countless others.