Gospel Story Finder

Thirteenth President of the Church
Missionary work was difficult in England in the 1920s. Thus, when Elder Ezra Taft Benson and his companion received an invitation to speak in a sacrament meeting including both members and nonmembers, they fasted and prayed. “The hall was filled,” President Benson later recalled. “My companion had planned to talk on the first principles, and I had studied hard in preparation for a talk on the Apostasy. There was a wonderful spirit in the meeting. … When I sat down, I realized that I had not mentioned the Apostasy. I had talked about the Prophet Joseph Smith and had borne my witness of his divine mission and of the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon.” After the meeting, several people came to the missionaries and said, “Tonight we received a witness that Mormonism is true. We are now ready to consider baptism.” President Benson said, “It was while I was on my first mission that I discovered the constant need for dependence on the Lord” (“Our Commission to Take the Gospel to All the World,” Ensign, May 1984, 44).

For the fourth time, Jenna tried to make her second and third fingers move quickly back and forth from B to B-flat. But her trill still didn’t sound smooth and even. Jenna rested her palms on the piano keys. She looked at the clock and sighed. Twenty-five more minutes to go.
From the kitchen, Mom called out, “Keep it up, Jenna! Your trill is definitely improving.”
Jenna rolled her eyes. It wasn’t that she didn’t like music. In fact, she loved it. But now Mrs. Maitland was giving her harder pieces by composers like Bach and Scarlatti. Jenna’s fingers couldn’t get through the runs without stumbling over each other.
“This sonata is going to sound awful in the recital!” Jenna grumbled.
Jenna stared down at her fingers. She obviously didn’t have what it took to be a good pianist—not as good as Mia, the star of Mrs. Maitland’s piano recitals. Jenna’s fingers just weren’t coordinated enough. What was the point in keeping it up if she was always going to be second best? Maybe she would ask Mom and Dad to let her quit piano.
Jenna looked around for something else to play. There was her blue Children’s Songbook. She opened it to page 228, her favorite Primary song. “Whenever I touch a velvet rose or walk by our lilac tree.” It always made Jenna feel like spring. In the illustration under the song title, the little girl’s raincoat was the same color as the daffodil, and her red umbrella matched her galoshes.
Jenna smiled and put her hands back on the keyboard. She loved the part where the notes go up for “I’m glad that I live in this beautiful world” and then come back down for “Heav’nly Father created for me.” The notes weren’t exactly a run, Jenna decided. They were more like a walk for her fingers. And she loved the word expressively at the top. It was exactly the way she liked to play. As she played the notes with their gentle, rocking rhythm, her frustration started melting away.
Jenna was starting on the second verse when Mom came in. “Sister Hardy just called,” Mom said. “She has to miss Primary on Sunday, and she can’t find anyone to substitute for her as pianist. Do you think you could do it, Jenna?”
The thought of playing in front of the whole Primary made Jenna’s stomach fluttery. But she loved the Primary songs. She would have her blue songbook, and the music wasn’t too fast or too hard.
Suddenly, Jenna felt glad that she had kept up her piano lessons. Her fingers didn’t need to be the fastest. And she didn’t really need to be the star of the recital. She could play the songs she loved for Heavenly Father. And that made it all worth it.

But Te Oranoa M., age 17, from New Zealand has a different take on things. “What inspires me about this scripture,” she says, “is that it doesn’t say they are lost forever.”

What an incredible insight! And it’s one that comes from personal experience. “I, myself, fell away from the Church,” she says, “but I have been able to come back.”

Te Oranoa grew up in the Church and talks about gaining her own testimony and even setting spiritual goals. “But that testimony grew cold,” she says.

In some ways, she found common ground with Amulek, particularly in the way he described himself to the people of Ammonihah: “I did harden my heart, for I was called many times and I would not hear; therefore I knew concerning these things, yet I would not know” (Alma 10:6).

For Te Oranoa, that scripture hits close to home. “Just like Amulek, I knew all these spiritual things, and the Spirit was telling me to do certain things, but because I was being a bit stubborn and a bit prideful, I wouldn’t do them. Afterward, my testimony kind of faded away.”

In the end, Amulek’s story would become more than merely familiar to Te Oranoa. It would also become a turning point on the road back.

Even during the time when her faith had grown cold, she could still remember sweet experiences from before. Te Oranoa never forgot how she’d felt when attending the temple with her youth group or going to a youth conference.

“There was a pattern,” she says. “I’d feel really good when I came to church, but I didn’t feel good when I missed church.”

There finally came a day when Te Oranoa decided to see if she could connect with those good feelings again. The first thing she did was to read through recent general conference addresses.

An October 2016 general conference address, “Learn from Alma and Amulek,” by President Dieter F. Uchtdorf, Second Counselor in the First Presidency, woke something in Te Oranoa’s soul. She recognized a lot of her own life and feelings as President Uchtdorf described how Amulek’s faith had faded. She also remembered more strongly than ever the happiness she had enjoyed when her faith was stronger. Instantly, she wanted to make some changes.

“I was hoping to find something to reignite that fire of my testimony,” she explains, “so I read President Uchtdorf’s talk, and yes, I felt on fire!”

Te Oranoa’s path back to faith hasn’t always been easy, but there is a particular light at the end of the tunnel that keeps her going: the hope of an eternal family.

“Families can be together forever,” she says. “That’s my biggest dream, my biggest hope in life. Whenever I want to learn about something, or I find a doctrine hard to understand, I try and relate it back to eternal families. For example, why is Jesus Christ’s Atonement important to me? For one thing, I need His Atonement in my life so I can be worthy to enter the temple and be sealed to my family for all eternity.”

It’s perhaps worth remembering that the people in Lehi’s vision who fell away after tasting the fruit did, in fact, still taste it. They must have known of its goodness, even if only briefly. And they can discover it again. That’s the hope Te Oranoa clings to, for herself and for others.

“You don’t have to keep going down those forbidden paths for the rest of your life,” she says. “You can turn back to the Lord whenever you want.”

Now … let’s make this practical. Tomorrow, I want to challenge you to a campus-wide experiment I’m calling “We Talk Wednesday.” Think of it as a social hike. No blisters required.

Here’s the challenge:
Your goal is simple—make campus feel a little more like Zion. Before you head out tomorrow morning, pray and ask Heavenly Father to show you who might need a smile, a word, or a friend. And when it feels awkward … just know that’s what the edge of your comfort zone feels like.

One final note, the wildest adventure I’ve ever been a part of has been marrying my beautiful wife. We’ve earned multiple degrees, chased jobs, and moved our family across the country three times. You want to feel the spirit of adventure? Try packing all your possessions in a moving truck, your wife and young family following behind in a minivan and driving across the country to chase a job or education. I’ll never forget the feeling driving across East Texas on our way to North Carolina thinking, “These wonderful souls are depending on you. You better know what you’re doing.” It’s one of the most humbling experiences I’ve ever had. I’m so thankful for my wife. Together we embarked on a debt-free journey and sent off two missionaries.

Nothing has stretched me more, made me laugh so hard, scared me so bad, been as much fun, or as rewarding as building our life together. We set goals together, we worked hard together, we learned to mountain bike together, ran an ultramarathon together, we served the Lord together. Every bit of it has been the ride of a lifetime and I wouldn’t be half the man I am today if it weren’t for her. So, thank you for being my adventure buddy.

I had a similar experience in a fifth-period class, later in the day. An afternoon class in a hot climate is not always the optimal setting for keeping students’ attention. As a matter of fact, this class was a particular challenge to me. As I considered my role in their temporal salvation (because they seemed so impossible to reach), I thought that the only way I could ever help save them would be to wait until they all died and then do work for the dead. That, however, was not a viable option. But I gave them the same challenge I had given the rest of the classes and continued to teach them.

At the end of the year a young man named Larry, who was in that fifth-period class, came to me and said, “You might want to look at this.”

Here is his first response:

I don’t really know there’s a God. I only go to church to make my mom and dad happy. I wish I had a testimony, but I don’t. Sometimes I feel like I have an important job on earth, but I don’t know what it is. I’m always wanting to do something wrong.

I am an eyewitness to the “always wanting to do something wrong” part.

Nine months later this young man wrote:

I know the Church is true. I have a testimony of it. I love my Big Brother and my Heavenly Father, and I know They live. I know Joseph Smith was a prophet of God, and I have a testimony of it.

I love this church with all my life. Some say they do not know if they would give their life for it, but I know—if need be, and my Father willed it—I would.

That is the power of the word in a young man’s life.

There is another story about a little boy named Josh who was having terrible nightmares that were frightening him. He asked his father to kneel down and have a prayer with him to ask Heavenly Father to stop the dreams and nightmares.

Josh opened his prayer by thanking Heavenly Father for the blessings that were his. He then asked his Heavenly Father to have the nightmares stop and send him a confirmation through his feelings during the prayer. He said no more. He waited about a minute, said “thank you,” and closed the prayer. He had had his confirmation and comfort that his prayers were answered—that he would not have any more nightmares. What an important lesson for a young man to learn!

James Hutchinson Western was born in Deseret, Utah on 1st May 1898 to loving parents, Samuel Winsborough and Mary Alice. James was the sixth of twelve children. At the age of 22, Elder James H. Western set sail for the British Isles to serve a full-time mission for the Church.
On arrival in February 1921, Elder Western was assigned to the Liverpool Conference. He was transferred to Wales in March 1922, and though just 23 years old he was set apart as the president of the Welsh Conference, under the direction of President Orson F. Whitney (1855-1931), Apostle and president of the European Mission.
This was a time of dedicated service for President Western, one to which he gave his whole commitment, sharing his leadership skills and gospel experiences, providing training to both local leaders and missionaries in developing branches. He also continually cared for and encouraged the full-time travelling missionaries throughout the district, giving guidance and direction in spreading the gospel to many areas of south and west Wales.
After a very busy and gospel-promoting period, Elder Western was honourably released as president of the Welsh conference. He arrived in Salt Lake City on 20 January 1923.
Sadly, on Saturday 17 February 1923 surgeons operated to remove a tumour on James’ spinal cord, but to no avail. He died the following Wednesday with his parents at his side. Their beloved son, not yet 25 years old, had served his country and served a mission for the Church. Now they had to part with him again until they reunite in the eternities.
President David O. McKay (1873-1970) wrote, “Sorrow made heavy every heart in the Welsh conference last Monday, when the announcement was received of the death of Elder James H. Western. . . .
“His labors were characterized by zeal, courage, and indefatigable effort; his daily life, by sincerity, undeviating integrity, dignified humility, and an earnest desire to make better and happier all who came within the radiance of his life. . . .
“As a true servant of Christ, he has won the welcome:
“‘Well done, good and faithful servant: thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.’”1
Though young, he accepted the mantle of leadership and with all diligence and commitment fulfilled his calling with love, dignity, and an ever-faithful heart to the gospel of Jesus Christ and the people he loved so dearly.

I would like to share with you some of the things I have put in my cart.

The third treasure in my cart is our children, each one so special, so unique. Each with value more precious than the riches of the earth. These children have given us wonderful grandchildren. I can truly say that if I did not believe that I could be with my family in the eternities, heaven would hold little interest for me.

The fourth thing I have put in my cart is a piece of wood from a tree in the sacred grove. I know there are signs forbidding taking items out of the grove, but I promise there were no such signs when I took this piece of bark. This bark brings back a sacred memory of the day I spent in prayer in the grove, seeking a testimony, even as Enos so many years ago. I was not going on a mission. I spent the whole day telling the Lord why I didn’t need to serve a mission, but the Lord told me otherwise. The testimony gained that day sent my life in a new direction and on a mission to Ireland. That day with God in the sacred grove is precious beyond words to me. I want to remember it forever.

That is how I came to find out about Juana Cancel, one of my father’s grandmothers (and one of my great-grandmothers). She was born in Vega Baja, Puerto Rico in the year 1880. I wrote and recorded the following information about her, which I learned from my father. “Juana Cancel was a very beloved grandmother of my father. She would protect, love, nurture, and spoil him. She safely kept his Life Magazine collection for him. Her husband, Jose Hilario Martinez, died eighteen years before she did. That meant that she had to continue administering and working their farm by herself after his death. She then used to sleep with a half a cue stick, an iron bar, and a hatchet underneath her bed, in case somebody tried to break into her home. She also used to smoke cigarettes. She said that she smoked in order to repel the mosquitoes! She passed away from a metastatic cancer of her cervix. My father remembers her going to receive treatments in the oncologic hospital in San Juan. I love her very much, because it is quite clear to me that my father nearly worshiped her.”
I could not rest until the temple work was done for her. It was a moving labor of love to have all of her vicarious ordinances performed. Family history and temple work are truly the “most glorious of subjects belonging to the everlasting gospel” (D&C 128:17).

I lived with my grandfather near the end of his life here on O?ahu in Kailua. I was very close to him, and I am grateful to carry his name. He was a good, generous and faithful man who died at the age of 61.

My father was also a talented and charismatic man of deep faith in Jesus Christ and the restored gospel. He attended the Church College of Hawaii, where he performed with Showcase Hawaii and worked at the Polynesian Cultural Center. I feel grateful that I have his actual name tag from that time. You can see in this slide here, John from Hawaii. So Alfred, if you see me over there with it, put me to work. Sadly, he passed away relatively young as well, at the age of 67. Just a few months after we started here at BYU–Hawaii, after decades of serious health issues.

Both my father and my grandfather suffered and died from type 2 diabetes. I don’t just share their names, I share their DNA, so I am at significantly elevated risk for type 2 diabetes as well. Many of you come from families and cultures where diabetes has impacted you for generations. Some of you have already lost grandparents, parents, or other loved ones far too early to this terrible disease.

I know it can be hard to notice the changes we need to make and then follow through. Even with my clear family history and personal risk for type 2 diabetes, and even after watching both my grandfather and my father suffer and die from the disease, I have struggled at times to make the nutrition and lifestyle choices necessary to protect myself. Some of you may have noticed that just a year or two ago, I was struggling to maintain a healthy weight. I went to the doctor that my markers of diabetes were starting to show that I was heading in the wrong direction.

It has been very challenging, but I met with doctors, I met with Seasider Wellness, I counseled with Monica, and I made a plan. For the last 15 months, I have worked to make and hopefully solidify important lifestyle changes. Along the way, I am being sustained with help from God, especially when I pray for support and when I make time to worship in the L??ie Hawaii Temple. With God’s help, and Monica’s help, these changes have led to blessings in my life and given me greater strength to fulfill my stewardship and hopefully will extend my capacity to serve God and others.

I share this with you, so you know that I understand. Change requires humility, effort, and persistence. It can be very, very difficult. But I promise you that it is worth it — it is always worth it to being quick to observe.

October 3, 1984, began as an ordinary day. The sun rose, the colors of autumn sprinkled the Midwest, and it appeared as the garden spot of the nation. The day was somewhat uneventful until the telephone rang. “Elder Sonnenberg?” the voice inquired, and then intoned, “The office of the First Presidency is calling. President Hinckley would like to speak with you.”
After a brief exchange of kindnesses, he invited me to become a member of the First Quorum of the Seventy and a General Authority. It has been, and yet remains, overwhelming. The day took on new meaning and an entirely different dimension in my life as I pondered the challenge and invitation. I will do my best and serve with all my heart. My lovely wife and children and their wonderful families surely sustain me, as they have always done.
Men’s lives have been clearly and completely changed by such invitations from men of God. This acceptance was acknowledged by asking when and where the Lord would have me go.
Men and women the world over are invited each day to come and join with us. The Savior invited men to “come, follow me.” (Luke 18:22.) It was not an ordinary invitation—to follow Jesus. The commitment had everlasting and eternal consequences. Peter was invited to “launch out into the deep.” (Luke 5:4.) He was a strong, suntanned, ordinary fisherman until he was invited “to let down [the] nets.” (Luke 5:4.) Thereafter he would never be the same because the Savior was steering his soul more than the ship. Yes, he was an ordinary fisherman until he heard the voice of Jesus and accepted His invitation.
Another time Peter was invited to walk on the water, and when he couldn’t continue he learned that when our faith falters we fail. (See Matt. 14:28–31.) Accepting the invitation requires unconditional faith.
In the presence of arrogant and angry men who were eager to accuse, the Master inscribed in sand and dust that which is now cast in concrete. The crowded courtyard of anxious accusers was cleared, and a sinner was saved from stoning because the Savior was interested in the person more than the problem. (See John 8:3–11.) He invited us to not judge, and then He demonstrated that forgiveness fosters love and that casting stones simply wouldn’t solve the problem or bring about a solution.
If we are to be as He is, we must be as He was. We must even invite with interest those who show disinterest and hope that somehow they will recognize the divine discourse described as a testimony.
He invited us to seek after the singular sheep that was lost. He made us to understand that a lost sheep is really a lost soul that we need to seek and search for, that a lost coin is one who needs to be counted and then converted, and that a prodigal son is one that can be saved by serving and then giving service himself.
He invited little children to come unto Him and each of us to become as one of them. He invited men to love one another as He has loved us, and then He would call them His disciples. He extended His love to His Apostles on condition that they understood what unconditional love for their fellowman was.
He invites men to receive the priesthood of God and to magnify it by service. He invites us to pay our tithing and fast offering, to teach the gospel, and to be baptized, and receive the Holy Ghost. And He invites us to preach the gospel in all the world because we are a worldwide church.
Last month my faithful and youthful companion, Timmy Manners, and I did our home teaching. Sixteen-year-old Timmy was born in the British Isles, I was born in the DDR [German Democratic Republic], and we teach a family from France. We visit them in Germany, and speak English—and we all understand each other.
Each of our families were converted to this, the Lord’s true church, by dedicated missionaries in different lands. We were taught by the sweet Spirit of the Lord. As we meet monthly in the lovely home of Jean Collin and his wonderful family, we have the opportunity to enlighten one another in our home teaching visit by that same sweet Spirit.
We invite the Spirit of the Lord on bended knee in the attitude of prayer. On this wise shall ye pray. What an invitation to communicate in the name of Christ! We are invited to cry repentance and bear our testimony, and then as a crown of commitment He allows us to go to His Holy House and be sealed for eternity.
Before 1830, April 6 was also just an ordinary day. Since the coming of the Book of Mormon and the organization of His church, the Spirit of the Lord has touched men and women around the world. Apostles and prophets and fellow Saints have borne witness of the divinity of the restoration of the gospel. Light, knowlege, and truth have been restored, and the Spirit of the Lord has been felt by members of His Church.
My beloved brothers and sisters, I testify that the Book of Mormon is true, that Jesus is the Christ and that Spencer W. Kimball is a prophet of God, and I invite you to follow them and enjoy the Spirit of the Lord, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

To illustrate this, I’d like to tell you of an experience I had just recently. I received a telephone call from a brother we’ll call John. He wanted an audience, and so I asked him why. He said, “Because the Spirit has told me to come and talk to Elder Rector.”
“Oh,” I said, “what about?”
He said he couldn’t tell me, but he wanted to bring someone to see me.
I said, “Have you talked to your priesthood leader?”
“No, the Spirit told me to talk to Elder Rector.” With some misgivings, I agreed that he could come and see me.
He came in, and he brought his friend with him. We’ll call his friend Bill. It seemed that Bill had driven up to John’s filling station, and when he had gotten out of the car, John immediately saw Bill’s spirit. He said it was a noble and great spirit, bright and shining like Abraham. (I’m not sure how he knew what Abraham’s spirit looked like.) Immediately John began to tell Bill what a great and noble spirit he was, and that he had a great work to do in the kingdom of God. Then he asked Bill what he was doing in the Church. It turned out that Bill had been a convert some years ago, but he was having a bit of a problem with his testimony: he wasn’t living the Word of Wisdom, he wasn’t paying his tithing, and he wasn’t doing very much of anything in the Church. Then John immediately called Bill to repentance and told him that he was supposed to be a great leader in the kingdom of God, even a bishop and a stake president, and I’m not sure what else he promised him. But it was very exciting to Bill, and he got all worked up about it. But since John couldn’t go beyond what he had told Bill and he definitely felt he should, he had prayed about it and the Spirit had told him to come and see Elder Rector! Now he said, “Why did the Spirit tell me this about Bill?”
I said, “Well, I’m not really sure that the Spirit did tell you that. To begin with, are you his bishop?”
“No.”
“Are you his quorum president?”
“No.”
“Are you a priesthood leader at all with respect to Bill?”
“No.”
“Are you his home teacher?”
“No.”
“Are you his patriarch?”
“No.”
“Then I seriously question that you had any right to tell him the things that you told him.”
This kind of situation develops many times because people want to do something good in the kingdom of God, but they don’t recognize the fact that you must act within the bounds the Lord has established.
But let me hasten to say I don’t believe that my visitor John was malicious in what he was trying to do. I think he was deceived. When we got that understood, Bill was angry. He said, “Well, what about me?”
I said, “Well, all you have to do is repent and keep the commandments, and you’ll be all right. I’m not going to say you won’t be a bishop or a stake president, but we’ll let the Lord decide that! We do not decide in areas where we do not have authority to act.”

“Vroom, vroom, vroom!” Brandon pushed his red toy convertible across the kitchen floor, driving it around the table and under the chairs in a zigzag pattern.
“Vroom, vroom, vroom!” Daniel echoed, driving his blue sedan in the same pattern.
Brandon parked his car under his chair. “Mom, what are we having for breakfast?”
Daniel parked his car right next to Brandon’s. “Yeah, Mom, what are we having for breakfast?”
“How about pancakes?” Mom asked.
“Yea, pancakes!” Brandon cheered.
“Yea, pancakes!” Daniel cheered just as loud.
“Will you make me a car pancake?” Brandon asked.
“Yes, I will,” Mom said.
“Will you make me a car pancake too?” Daniel asked, climbing up on his chair.
Brandon frowned. “Why does Daniel always have to copy me?” he asked. “Everything I do, he has to do, and everything I say, he says.”
Mom smiled as she stirred pancake batter. “Little brothers like to follow big brothers because they think their big brothers are really special. When Daniel copies you, he feels special too.”
“But it bugs me, Mom.”
“I can understand that,” Mom said. “But remember that Daniel’s not trying to be annoying. He thinks you’re great, and he wants to be just like you. That’s why it’s important that you set a good example for him.”
Brandon shook his head. “Daniel is lucky that he doesn’t have a little brother to copy him all the time.”
Mom poured batter onto the hot griddle. A wonderful smell soon filled the room. “Brandon,” she said, “you aren’t the only big brother who has a younger brother imitating him. Don’t you like to build model jets just like the ones Jeffrey builds, and drive your train on the track he put together?”
“Yeah, but Jeffrey doesn’t care if I copy him,” Brandon said. “And besides, I don’t say the same thing every time.”
“Jeffrey doesn’t care if I copy him either,” Daniel added.
Mom laughed but then grew serious. “I can think of a person whom we honor when we try to follow His example. Do you know who I mean?”
“Who?” Brandon and Daniel asked together.
“Jesus Christ. Did you know that He is the Firstborn of Heavenly Father’s spirit children? He is our Savior and sets the example for us.”
“Oh yeah,” Brandon said. “You told us that before.”
“He wants us to follow Him. One of the reasons He came to earth was to show us the things we should do and how we should act. Can you think of some ways you can follow Jesus?” Mom asked.
“We can get baptized,” Daniel said.
“And love little children,” Brandon added.
“Good answers,” Mom said. “And how about little brothers? Do you think Jesus loves little brothers?”
“Yes,” they both answered.
“What kind of things do you think Jesus would do to show His love for little brothers?”
“Help them clean up,” Daniel said.
“Help them build things,” Brandon said.
Mom turned the pancakes over. “You’re both right,” she said. “When you help your brother, you’re treating him the way Jesus would treat him.”
“So I can follow Jesus by letting Daniel follow me?” Brandon asked.
“That’s right,” Mom said. “Whenever you treat someone with kindness you are following the Savior.”
“OK, Daniel,” Brandon said. “Should we both have syrup on our pancakes?”
“Yes!” Daniel exclaimed. “I like being like my brother!”

Splash!
I dived through the water and swam around behind the boat, trying to catch the breath the cold water pushed out of my lungs. Actually, it felt good. The air above the river was hot and heavy, and I needed that sudden jolt to wake me up and prepare me for my first ski run of the day.
My first ski run, and possibly my last. Not only of the day, but of the year—two years, in fact. I would be leaving for my mission in about two weeks, and I had been spending the entire summer cramming in a lot of activities that would be prohibited once I entered the mission field.
I figured that if I spent enough time skiing, swimming, dating, dancing, and doing a thousand other things I wouldn’t be able to do as a missionary, I’d get it all out of my system and be ready to settle down once I reached the MTC. I hardly even looked at the scriptures. They weren’t going to change any in the month before I left, and I would have plenty of time to study them over the next two years. I would soon be devoting 24 hours a day to the service of others, so I had decided to devote the preceding month to the service of me.
I signaled to Kent, who was driving the boat, that my ski was adjusted and ready. He smiled, nodded, and began to accelerate. Getting up on the river, where the current was particularly strong, was not easy, but I managed, and I was soon gliding across the water’s surface. The wind pressed on my face. I closed my eyes and smiled up toward the sun. What a wonderful feeling.
But suddenly my ski struck something hard, and I crashed face down in the water. For some reason, I was being dragged rapidly toward shore. It took me a second to realize that I’d run into a jumble of logs and branches that were floating downstream, and my ski was hopelessly entangled. The current was pulling me toward the shore at the bend in the river, where a mass of sharp rocks and branches had piled up. “If the current drags me into that mess, I’m through,” I thought as I frantically tried to free myself from the entangled ski.
My cousins in the boat quickly realized the danger I was in, and circled back around to try to fish me out. Unfortunately though, the boat got caught in the current too, and I found myself sandwiched between the boat and the rapidly approaching pile of debris. Sharp branches and jagged rocks were only a few feet, a few inches, from my eyes, my throat, my chest. If only I could dive under the boat and put it between me and the ragged shore. I tried, but the buoyancy of my ski vest made that impossible.
I began praying desperately. It was the only alternative left. Immediately some force, like a huge hand, thrust me down into the water and under the boat. I was glad the boat had a jet engine, so I didn’t need to deal with a propeller. My ski had finally been wrenched from my foot, and with the new mobility that gave me, I was able to push out from under the boat and emerge on the other side, just in time to see it crash into the debris.
I could hear my cousins shouting and crying, sure that I had been skewered by a branch and was caught under the water. I shakily called out to them, and with great relief, they pulled me back into the boat.
I huddled in my towel and mulled over what had just happened as we headed back to the sandy beach where we had started. My mission had almost been finished before it began. How important the work must be! I felt the Lord had truly sent angels to be round about me, to bear me up, as it says in Doctrine and Covenants 84:88. I was grateful to have been spared to do his work.
It was then that I understood that my preparation tactics had been all wrong. If the work was that important, I shouldn’t be out grabbing at all the excitement I could before I left. I should be trying to embrace all the scripture study, all the prayer, all the service I could. Of course it wouldn’t hurt to get a little fun in, but I should have begun long ago to practice what I was going to preach.
I would definitely have to change my schedule for the next two weeks, and I’d have to work harder in a different way, than I’d ever dreamed. That realization was a cold, hard one, but actually, it felt good. I needed the sudden jolt to prepare me for the next two years of my life.

As the date of our divorce hearing drew near, my husband sent me a 16-page letter evaluating our marriage. Despite priesthood counsel to the contrary, I began to believe my husband’s assertions that the problems in our marriage were my fault—that I was even the cause of his infidelity.
Torn with doubts, I turned to the scriptures. There I found hope and understanding in the Savior’s words. I reflected on how His words had already blessed and lifted me. I wrote in my journal: “The tides of self-pity, self-reproach, and self-destruction rage against my shore. And at my shore the Savior is ever there, building—shoring up—protecting against the onslaught—telling me I have value—telling me to believe in myself. His is the voice I prefer to hear, the voice I must heed.”
I was blessed with opportunities to rebuild belief in myself. Priesthood counsel and blessings offered me divine comfort. Through the Savior’s great love, strength and courage returned.

Two years ago, the Lord touched my dear mother’s heart, which helped her decide to receive the ordinance of baptism. I had waited for that day to take place for almost 35 years. In order for her to make that decision, many members of the Church truly ministered to her as Christ would. One Sunday, she felt she should go to church. She followed the prompting. While she sat on the front row and waited for the sacrament service to begin, a four-year-old boy stood in front of her and looked at her. She greeted him with a smile. The little boy left her presence abruptly and walked back to his own seat, which was on the other side of the row where my mother was seated. This little boy picked up something from his seat and came back and handed my mother a hymnbook and walked back to his seat. My mother noticed a hymnbook was placed on every other chair in the chapel. She could have easily picked one up from the chair next to her. However, she was very impressed with the boy’s innocent act of kindness, which he had learned in his home and at church. It was a tender moment for her. She had a strong impression that God was inviting her to come and follow the Savior. She felt she should be baptized. This little boy did not seek recognition for what he did, but he simply did his best to live the word of God and to love his neighbor. His kindness created an important change of heart in my mother.

As was mentioned in the introduction, a few years ago I got interested in mountain climbing. My first big mountain was Aconcagua, the highest point in South America at 22,800 feet. I joined a commercial group that was led by paid guides. Our lead guide, Sergio, was from Mexico and had been leading climbs all over the world for 20 years. Our second guide, Augusto from Peru, had already summited Aconcagua 22 times.

It takes time to climb a big mountain. The guides lay out a schedule where the group moves up about 1,000 feet each day allowing everyone to gradually acclimatize to the thinning air. Conditions on the mountain are harsh; biting cold, fierce winds, heavy snow, and it's difficult to eat and sleep. There is a great desire among all the climbers to stick to the schedule and get to the summit. One morning about half way up the mountain, we arose and ate breakfast as usual. The wind was calm, the sky was blue with only a few clouds gathering harmlessly below us. We assembled to get our instructions for the day only to be informed that the guides had met and decided that the weather looked bad for the afternoon and we would remain in camp that day. The prospect of wasting a day was made even more distasteful when the other groups camped near us packed up their gear and headed up the mountain.

It was a difficult morning as we tried to find things to do, cast doubtful looks at our guides and muttered about the wasted time. Soon after lunch all that changed. The "harmless" clouds below boiled up and covered us in a dense fog. Then the wind and snow began and soon we were hunkered down in our tents with blinding snow blowing sideways outside the flap. This was the deadly Viento Blanco (White Wind) that Aconcagua is famous for. A few hours into the storm the other groups stumbled back into camp, cold and tired from their unsuccessful attempt to move up. The storm abated overnight and the next morning we were able to move up while the other groups had to spend a recovery day in camp. There was no more second-guessing our guides' decisions the rest of the trip. We were kept safe that day by following our guides' decisions.

I had such a test decades ago when one of my medical faculty colleagues chastised me for failing to separate my professional knowledge from my religious convictions. He demanded that I not combine the two. How could I do that? Truth is truth! It is not divisible, and any part of it cannot be set aside.

Whether truth emerges from a scientific laboratory or through revelation, all truth emanates from God. All truth is part of the gospel of Jesus Christ.4 Yet I was being asked to hide my faith. I did not comply with my colleague’s request. I let my faith show!

Years ago we took our then-teenage daughters to the temple for the first time. My oldest daughter had then the privilege of participating in the baptism of her deceased great-grandmother. Days later we held our family home evening and invited the children to bear their testimonies about the experience in the house of the Lord. As our oldest daughter started to express her feelings, tears came down her face when she mentioned her great-grandmother’s name and tried to describe how and what she felt during the ordinance. We all realized that she was recognizing right then that a “swelling motion” moment was taking place. That strong impression has been an anchor for her testimony and conviction of the gospel.

Allie looked around Grandfather Snow’s office in the Salt Lake Temple. “It’s late! We’re the only ones here.”
“Sorry, my dear,” her grandpa said with a smile. “I’ve been telling you too many stories.”
“Please don’t apologize. I’ve always loved your stories.” Allie hugged her grandfather, Lorenzo Snow, the fifth President of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
“I’ll walk you to the front entrance and let you out,” he said. “The night watchmen haven’t arrived yet, and the doors are all locked.” They walked out of his office into the hall.
Allie had married Noah Pond in a nearby room in the temple just three years ago. Now Noah was away in Sweden serving a mission. Allie missed him. But she knew he was serving the Lord, just as she and her family had done in Hawaii.
“Wait a moment, Allie,” Grandpa said. “I want to tell you something. Do you remember when President Wilford Woodruff died?”
Allie remembered well. It had only been a year ago, and Grandpa Snow had been worried about the responsibility of being the next President of the Church. He had prayed that President Woodruff would not die. When President Woodruff passed away, Grandpa had come to the Salt Lake Temple as soon as he heard the news.
To succeed means to be the next in line to fill a position. Ever since the deaths of the Prophet Joseph Smith and Brigham Young, the Lord has chosen the man who has been an Apostle for the longest time to become the next President of the Church.
“It was right here that the Lord Jesus Christ appeared to me. He told me to go right ahead and reorganize the First Presidency at once and not wait as had been done after the death of the previous presidents, and that I was to succeed President Woodruff,” Grandpa said.
Grandpa held out his hand. “He stood right here, about three feet above the floor. It looked as though He stood on a plate of solid gold.”
Allie stood very still as she felt the Spirit confirm the truth of these words. The Savior had appeared in this very spot in the temple and told her grandpa about his calling as President of the Church! Grandpa continued to describe the Savior’s hands, feet, face, and beautiful white robes. He said they were so white and bright that he could hardly look at the Savior.
Then Grandpa put his hand on her head. “Now, Granddaughter, I want you to remember that this is the testimony of your grandfather, that he told you with his own lips that he actually saw the Savior, here in the temple, and talked with Him face to face.”
Allie hugged Grandpa at the door and quietly made her way home. Her heart felt warm, and she knew that Jesus Christ really had appeared to Grandpa. The Savior lived, and He was the head of His Church. This was truly a night to remember.