Gospel Story Finder

After I had children of my own, I realized how much the Savior loves children. I was tucking my son, Tom, into bed one night. I gave him a hug, and he said, “Dad, do you think that when Jesus comes again, I will be a little boy?”
I said, “Well, we don’t know when He’s going to come, so I don’t know if you will or not. Why do you ask?”
“I’ve been thinking about the stories I’ve heard in Primary about how when Jesus was on the earth, He really liked children. He invited the children to come, and He held them. I think I would like that, so I hope I’ll still be a little boy when He comes.”
I gave Tom a hug and said, “I’m really glad that you feel that way about Jesus, Tom, because that’s how I feel about Him, too. And I hope that you don’t have to be a little child for Him to hold you, because I would like that, too.”

As a young man, Heber was bothered by a promise made to him in his patriarchal blessing that he would be called to the ministry in his youth. Thinking this meant he would serve a mission for the Church, he was disturbed when at age 23 he had received no mission call. This lack caused him to feel concerns about his status and also about the Church. Thoughts began to cross his mind that the patriarch had not been inspired, and if so, maybe other revelations weren’t inspired either. As he pondered, he grew more confused. He knew the Church was true, so why did doubts continue to plague him? Eventually he concluded that the patriarch must have made a mistake, but still he found no peace concerning the issue.
One day while he was walking down Main Street in Salt Lake City, these thoughts began to torment him again. Heber stopped right there on the sidewalk and spoke out loud, even though no one was present: “Mr. Devil, shut up. I don’t care if every patriarch in the Church has made a mistake in a blessing, and told a lie, I believe with all my heart and soul that the gospel is true and I will not allow my faith to be upset.”
Never again was Heber tormented by these negative thoughts. And within a short period of time he was called to serve as a stake president—a fulfillment of his patriarchal blessing.9

Skeeter Lagree pulled himself from his bed like a reluctant butterfly from its cocoon. It isn’t fair! his thoughts told his reflection in his dresser mirror. I’m just a twelve-year-old boy.
When he pulled back the curtain at his window and gazed out, he decided it was more than just unfair. “I’m not going to collect fast offerings on a day like this, Bernard!” he said out loud to his pet goldfish in the little fishbowl on his dresser. “It’s snowing! Mom’s in St. George, taking care of Grandma. And Dad’s sick in bed, so he can’t drive me around the neighborhood.”
The boy watched a dog amble down the street, appearing almost suspended by the icy wind, then crawled back into bed. “It won’t hurt if I miss collecting fast offerings just this once, Bernard. The other deacons will tend to it. They probably have rides. I’d have to walk all the way around the block to the meetinghouse just to pick up a route!”
Bernard’s “gaze” began to bother Skeeter. He wondered if his conscience had eyes like that—big and round and unblinking. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you that it isn’t polite to stare?” He rolled over and faced the wall.
What greeted him there was even worse! It was a picture of a family pulling their handcart across the plains in the dead of winter. The woman was straining at the crossbar. Her husband lay in the cart, too sick to walk, his hollow eyes gazing painfully at their child, about Skeeter’s age, crawling beside the cart. The pioneer boy was too weak and cold to stand. His bedraggled clothes were caked with ice, and his feet were bleeding.
The handcart pioneers were engaged in a noble cause, too, his conscience told him, like the other deacons who’ll be fulfilling their duty to the Lord this morning. But these pioneers, his father had read from a worn book during a recent family home evening, had traveled on foot more than 1300 miles! And all I have to do is walk around the block.
Suddenly he heard a tapping. He rolled over to discover a bare limb of a tree tapping and scraping against his window. A moment later, he was kneeling beside his bed, asking Heavenly Father for forgiveness.
Skeeter jumped up and quickly dressed in his Sunday clothes, slipped into his winter coat, told his dad where he was going, and started back down the hall toward the front door. He paused and poked his head into his own room. “Shouldn’t you be about your duties, Bernard?” he asked his pet. “And don’t pretend that you don’t know what they are!” he added at the fish’s seemingly blank look. “You’re a fish, aren’t you? So, do something … fishy. Besides staring! Remember who feeds you,” he warned with a chuckle. “Except today, of course—it’s fast Sunday!”
Skeeter’s father heard his chuckling. The next thing he heard was the front door opening and closing as his son went out into the cold, snowy morning on the Lord’s errand. He rested his head back on his pillow and smiled. “That’s my boy,” he said softly. “That’s my boy.”

Standing on the edge of the broad sidewalk leading from the front doors of the meetinghouse, Brian could see people milling around in the foyer. The meeting was just over.
Brian was actually going to meet a real prophet! When the missionaries called him a few minutes ago, he couldn’t believe his ears. They told him that President Spencer W. Kimball was visiting a neighboring ward to attend the blessing of a great-grandchild. Brian could meet the prophet, they said, if he came quickly.
As he hung up the phone, Brian yelled to his mom that he was going to the church. Then he jumped on his bike and raced the four blocks there. The missionaries were waiting for him. They stood on either side of him now. Other people were waiting on the sidewalk, too. Brian guessed that they’d also heard that the prophet was here today and had come to see him.
Brian glanced down and was dismayed to see his scuffed and tattered tennis shoes and his old T-shirt. He hadn’t thought about changing before he came over. He might have missed meeting the prophet if he had. But what would the great leader think of him?
Brian hastily tucked in his shirt. He couldn’t do anything to change his shoes, but maybe the prophet wouldn’t notice them. Suddenly he felt a wave of uneasiness. Turning to the missionary on his right, he asked, “Elder Turner, how do I look?”
Elder Turner peered at him closely and pointed to the corners of his own mouth. Brian quickly wiped away any traces of lunch, then looked at the missionary again. Elder Turner nodded with a smile.
Until meeting the missionaries a few weeks ago, Brian had never even heard of a modern prophet. He knew about Noah and Moses and other prophets in the Bible. But he’d never thought that a prophet might be on the earth today. The missionaries told him that the prophet tells people what Jesus would tell them if He were here.
He had seen pictures of Old Testament prophets with long white hair and flowing beards. So he was surprised when the missionaries showed him a picture of President Kimball. He did have white hair, but it was neatly trimmed. Brian thought that he looked like a kindly grandfather.
One day, when the missionaries had taken Brian to Primary, he heard a song about following prophets. He looked around him in amazement at all the children who believed in a prophet.
Brian’s attention returned to the church. The doors opened, and a small group came out. They moved slowly, greeting people as they made their way down the sidewalk. Some fathers held little children in their arms or on their shoulders so that they, too, could see and greet the prophet.
Brian could tell that someone was stopping and shaking hands. Grown-ups blocked his view, but he caught a glimpse of white hair and a dark suit. It surprised him that the man wasn’t much taller than he was.
As they came closer, someone moved and Brian could see clearly. He saw the man whose picture the missionaries had shown him. The man spoke softly and kindly to the grown-ups and children he shook hands with.
Brian felt worried. What would the prophet say to him? Would he sense Brian’s doubts and questions? Would he say something to try to persuade Brian that the Church was true?
Then President Kimball reached out his hand again, and Brian heard a familiar voice.
“President Kimball, it is so great to meet you. My companion, Elder Turner, and I would like you to meet our friend, Brian. He’s investigating the Church.”
It was Elder Ellis who was speaking and shaking hands with the prophet. His other hand reached out and rested on Brian’s shoulder.
The prophet turned and looked at Brian. He caught his breath as President Kimball smiled at him.
Extending his hand, Brian spoke haltingly. “I’m … very … glad to meet you, sir.” He felt his face becoming warm.
President Kimball took his hand in a soft but firm grip. Then suddenly the prophet released Brian’s hand and threw both arms around him and gave him a big hug. With his face close to Brian’s, he said softly, “I love you.” His voice was low and raspy.
When he released Brian, he smiled and then turned to greet Elder Turner. Brian was speechless.
He watched the prophet of the Lord continue to shake hands until he reached a car at the curb. Helping his wife into the backseat, he turned and raised his hand to the people gathered on the sidewalk. Then he climbed into the backseat, and the car pulled away from the curb.
Three words! That’s all he had said. Yet Brian felt deep inside that they were true. He knew that a prophet had spoken those words. A prophet! Were they the words Jesus would say to Brian if He were here? A warm feeling began in Brian’s chest and spread through his body. Yes, he thought, they were the same words.

I know of a prominent worker with a big church assignment who had no ward responsibilities. Weekly she went to Sunday School and sacrament meeting and came away feeling that she was no part of the program. Then she became aware of a sister who had been raised without a knowledge of the gospel, who would come to the door of the church on Sunday but was afraid to enter, and would then return home. She helped her to enter and to become enlarged in her soul. Then she noticed a man, a nonmember who was almost a member, and changed his outlook into membership. She noticed several single girls without purpose and gave them the desire to be what they could be. She was interested in the aged, and gave encouragement to young men nearing the age to go on missions. Suddenly she found herself a big part of the ward, not by a bishop’s appointment but by obeying the law which calls us to be our brother’s keeper.

We left Ha?apai to go by boat to a small island where few General Authorities have ever visited. We were greeted at the dock by the Saints. They embraced us and tears flowed freely down their cheeks. We walked from the docks to a chapel. As we neared the building, which is used both for a school and a church, we heard the voices of children singing in their native tongue, “We thank thee, O God, for a prophet, to guide us in these latter days.” (Hymns, no. 196.) We walked in to the chapel humbled. There, filling the chapel to capacity, were members of the Church and friends alike gathered from around the island to hear the messages that were to be given.
There was a rich outpouring of the Spirit, and at the conclusion of the meeting we were invited to the rear of the building where a special ceremony of welcome was given to us. It was a beautiful service. A representative of the government was there, and he spoke and thanked the Church and General Authorities for the tremendous contributions they had made in educating, strengthening, and building the lives of the people. He was not a member of the Church, but he was touched by the Spirit of the Lord. In their greatest tribute, they gave us a huge roasted pig. They said they would like to lavish us with gifts, but this was the best they had.
They took us to a feast, a table spread with the finest that the island could produce. After the feast they picked up the pig, carried it to the ship, and insisted that we take it with us on our journey. We started walking back to the ship. I was walking with the island official and I said, “You would make a wonderful member of the Church.” He said, “I am ready. I felt the Spirit, but just must get rid of a habit.” I reminded him that it was just as easy to get rid of the habit today as it would be tomorrow or next week. And he said, “I’ll try; I’ll try.”

When Jeff woke up on Monday morning, everything went wrong. He could not find his favorite bear, and his socks did not match. His cornflakes got mushy, and he spilled orange juice all over his shirt.
“I’m having a bad day,” Jeff told Mom.
“You need some of my ‘magic,’” Mom said, smiling. “It can change your bad day into a happy one.”
“What kind of magic?” Jeff asked.
“Close your eyes,” Mom said.
Jeff shut his eyes and waited. A second later, Mom gave him a giant hug. It felt warm and soft.
“Did it work?” Mom asked.
“It sure did!” Jeff declared.
Then Mom said, “I need some of your magic.”
Jeff smiled and gave Mom a great big hug too!

When Michael was in junior high, his father, Calvin, suggested that he get involved in a sport. He wasn’t tall enough for basketball or big enough for football. He went out for track. “I wasn’t very good at it,” said Michael, “but I stuck with it because I thought it’d get better the next year.”
There’s the first clue. Stick with it.
Calvin would watch his son run. The only advice Michael remembers his dad giving was, “Pay attention to what your coach says, and work hard.”
Another clue. Listen to those who know best. And work hard.
It paid off. Michael became the second best man in the distances on the cross-country team. His best friend, Darrin, could always beat him.
Next clue. After you do the best you can, support those ahead of you.
At the end of his sophomore year, Michael decided to get involved in school government. He ran for junior class council. Yvonne, Michael’s mother, said, “He didn’t even tell us he was running. He just did it.”
The next year, Michael ran for student-body president even though someone else seemed more likely to win. He ran and was elected.
One more clue. Try, you never know what you can do until you try.
Throughout his school years, Michael had friends from different groups and with different interests. But there were certain things that Michael had decided and those decisions never changed. He was determined to never miss seminary. Even when he came back from a track meet late, he was there.
And he never let his friends influence him into breaking the commandments. How did his friends react? Michael said, “They sort of understand. They say, ‘This is Michael, and this is the Church he belongs to. And this is what he does.’”
Another point for our list. Stick to your standards.
After graduation Michael knew he wanted to prepare for his mission. His birthday was in December, so he decided to stay home from college and work to earn money for his mission. His dad helped Michael get a job with him working with a tugboat company. As the rookie, Michael got all the jobs no one else wanted—cleaning up, painting, picking up supplies.
Two more things Michael learned. Sometimes you have to put up with jobs you don’t like to earn the goal you do want—going on a mission. And as a bonus, Michael learned to take righteous pride in the kind of man his father is. Michael said, “Working around tugboats is a rough environment. There’s a lot of bad language. But Dad’s not different at work than he is at home. He always lives what he believes.”
Michael has followed the advice of his parents and his Church leaders and made some good choices. He gets a chance to help his younger sisters, Joleane and Elizabeth, and brother, Daniel, with the choices they are making. “He gives us advice,” said Elizabeth. “He tells us what movies to go to. He’s always been that way, telling us what we should do.”
Now Michael is serving his mission in Ukraine. He’ll be going places where they have never heard of the Church. How will he do? Michael knows how to stick with it, work hard, listen to those who know best, try, and keep his standards, which are now mission rules.
Cal Higgins had one more word of advice for his son before he left home—“Finish the race.”
And that’s the last piece of the puzzle. The scriptures phrase it a little differently, but the meaning is the same: Endure to the end. That’s the key to many of Michael’s accomplishments. After working and trying, listening and learning, then finish the race.

The personal miracle I speak of had its earliest beginnings with the Prophet Joseph. He introduced the concept of constructing temples where sacred ordinances and instruction could be received. You’ll remember the first temple was built at great sacrifice in Kirtland, Ohio. It was completed and dedicated in 1836.

The saints had hoped to build additional temples; but, during the next few years, circumstances prevented them from doing so. In 1839, the main body of the Church moved to a bend on the Mississippi River known as Commerce. Now it is known as Nauvoo, meaning beautiful.

Under the direction of the Prophet Joseph, the Saints drained the swampland and created one of the most prosperous and populous cities in the state of Illinois. That was a big miracle.

The following year, plans were underway to construct a temple, a sacred House of the Lord. The Prophet Joseph appointed Brother William Weeks as the architect of the temple. Yet it was the prophet who gave significant instructions regarding the design of the building: “I have seen in a vision the splendid appearance of that building”, he said, “and [I] will have it built according to the pattern shown me.”[6]

An official cornerstone laying ceremony was conducted on April 6, 1841.

In addition to their financial contributions, Church members also gave a tithe of their time – one day in ten to working on the temple. Men labored in the construction areas and women sewed clothing for the workers and provided food, as well as raiment.

Because of donated labor and the donation of many building materials, it is very difficult to accurately calculate the cost of the six-year construction project. However, some estimate that in the monetary value of the time, the temple cost in excess of $1,000,000.00. That was a very big miracle!

Portions of the temple were dedicated and used prior to its completion in the spring of 1846. The first of several public dedication services for the Nauvoo Temple took place on May 1, 1846.

An uncontrolled lawless element forced the Saints to leave Nauvoo, broken-heartedly, leaving their temple behind. In October 1848, an arsonist destroyed the interior of the temple. In May 1850, a tornado knocked down one wall of the gutted structure and weakened the other walls. They were eventually taken down.

Now move forward with me almost 100 years.

In 1937, ninety-one years after the main body of the Church left their beautiful city and headed west, the Church purchased portions of the original temple site in Nauvoo. Over the next half a century, other properties, formerly owned by the Church and its members, were purchased and restored.

One day in early 1999, at the conclusion of a regular Temple Sites Meeting, President Hinckley mentioned that he was very seriously considering rebuilding the Nauvoo Temple. He said something like, “My father wanted to rebuild it back in 1946, when he was serving as President of the Northern States mission. Father actually wrote a letter to the First Presidency and he was turned down. Now you brethren, Elder Sorensen and Bishop McMullin and your associates, need to find a way to reconstruct the temple. The plans we have in the historical department are inadequate and incomplete.”

In April 1999, President Hinckley announced the Church would rebuild the Nauvoo Temple on the original site. He said, "The new building will stand as a memorial to those who built the first such structure."[7]

Groundbreaking ceremonies for the temple took place on October 24, 1999. "A sense of joy and spirituality returned to the Temple Lot,” wrote a newspaper columnist."[8]

Traditional cornerstone ceremonies were conducted on November 5, 2000. Under priesthood direction, prayers and talks were given on each of the four cornerstones. This tradition dated back to April 6, 1841, the original Nauvoo Temple dedication date, in the days of the Prophet, Joseph.

The dedication of the restored Nauvoo Temple commenced on June 27, 2002. It was the 158th anniversary of the martyrdom of the Prophet Joseph Smith and his faithful brother, Hyrum. The limestone exterior of the restored temple is a near duplicate of the original temple, including the design elements.

The restored building has six floors, circular stairs, and is crowned with an upright statue of the Angel Moroni with the trumpet in his hand.

This is a facsimile of the original Angel Moroni that adorned the first temple until it was destroyed.

Yet, 150 years later, Sister Sorensen and I and several members of our family were at the dedication of a beautiful temple, the exact replica of what once was, in that beautiful city, Nauvoo, being led by a Prophet of God, Gordon B. Hinckley. We were now a prosperous and blessed people. His watchful eye had prevailed.

The terrible sacrifice and loss of those early saints made everything possible. In that moment, when everything seemed lost, everything was actually being won. As real as the suffering was, Heavenly Father was working in His mysterious way to bring to pass a great miracle.

It has been one year since I was baptized. During much of that year I have been in the hospital. Today I received the latest issue of the New Era, and in spite of extreme pain, turned through it. I want others to know how much of a blessing this magazine can be to those who are ill. It has been wonderful for me, as have the members of the ward who help to look after my needs.
Cheryl Ann TrumbullWilmington, Delaware

It’s the same every Mother’s Day. I ask my mom what I can give her, she stops what she’s doing, takes my face in her hands, smiles her what-a-wonderful-boy-you-are-smile, and says, “A poem and a kiss. That’s all I need.”
Well, that always sounds pretty wimpy to me. I mean, a guy in sixth grade just doesn’t go for that mushy stuff. I usually end up giving her one of my drawings. But this particular Mother’s Day had to be different. Mom needed something bigger than a poem, something better than a kiss, and something bolder than a drawing.
Dad lost his job a couple months ago. He’s been looking hard for a new one and doing freelance work whenever he can get it, but Mom always looks worried. She’s been substituting at the elementary school for a teacher who just had a baby. The fifth grade class is noisy and rowdy, and she comes home real tired. Then she has to cook dinner and do laundry and make phone calls for her Church calling. This was no ordinary Mother’s Day. I had to think up an awesome present.
I was watching an old movie on TV, when I got an idea. A great idea! I checked out my wardrobe and decided I had what I needed. I did a little practicing in front of the mirror and figured I could pull it off. I was all set. Not only would my present help Mom out, but it would make her laugh, too.
It was the Saturday morning before Mother’s Day. I had already told my friends that I wouldn’t be joining them for our usual bike ride. I got up pretty early for a change, and instead of putting on a T-shirt and jeans, I put on a white dress shirt, my dark Sunday suit, and my Sunday shoes. I wet my hair and slicked it back. I stood up straight, threw back my shoulders, stuck out my chin, and walked up to Mom, who was putting a load of dirty clothes in the washing machine. I never thought it would be so hard to keep a smile off my face. But I had to.
“Madam,” I said in a formal voice, my eyebrows raised. “I am Andrews, your Butler-for-the-Day.”
Mom looked up from her work with a start. “Andy! You’re all dressed up! Where in the world are you going? Is there a funeral? What was that you said?”
“What I said, Madam,” I replied in my most stately manner, “is that I am your Mother’s Day Butler.” I bowed slightly, just like the guy in the movie. No smiling allowed, I told myself.
Mom was speechless, so I continued, “You may call me Andrews. This entire day I will be at your complete disposal. You have merely to ask, and I will immediately carry out your orders. Your wish is my command.” Now I was sounding more like a movie genie, but Mom didn’t seem to notice. She hadn’t laughed like that in weeks, which made it even harder not to smile.
“Are you serious?” Mom asked when she regained control of herself.
“Sure I am—I mean—most assuredly, Madam. What will you have me do first?”
“This is such a treat!” Mom exclaimed. “How about, … well, … would you mind setting the table for breakfast?”
“Certainly, Madam,” I said. Giving her another bow, I went to work.
“What’s Andy doing, Mom?” I heard my twin sisters ask. They were being total pests, as usual. “Why is he wearing his Sunday clothes?”
“Yeah, what’s up, Andy?” said Dad, coming in from the garage.
“Andrews is my Butler-for-the-Day,” Mom proclaimed like the queen of the world.
My sisters stared holes in me while I poured the orange juice. I guess they weren’t used to seeing me help in the kitchen. My next job was to pull weeds in the front yard. Not a very distinguished, butler-type job, but I did it anyway, even though my Sunday shoes got caked with mud. Mom was really taking this thing seriously!
I had promised myself that no matter what Mom asked me to do, I would do it in true butler style, without a wince. It wasn’t hard, really. She wanted the furniture rearranged and the carpet vacuumed. As long as I had the vacuum out, she said I could clean under the sofa cushions. I crawled on the floor and polished the table and chair legs. I climbed the ladder and dusted the ceiling fan. I hefted overloaded laundry baskets and put clothes away. If the doorbell rang, I hurried to answer it in my formal manner and announced visitors. I picked up the phone before it had a chance to ring twice, and I made some of Mom’s calls for her. Mom smiled and giggled over everything I did. I merely bowed and said, “What further service would Madam wish?” Then she’d smile again.
She kept me busy just about all day. I didn’t slow down until she did, which was after dinner. I put a white dish towel over my arm and served ice water on the porch to her and Dad while they watched the sunset.
“That will be all, Andrews,” said Mom, faking an English accent. Then she laughed and acted like her regular self. “Andy, this was the best Mother’s Day present I’ve ever had. I feel like I’ve had a vacation! I didn’t even have to answer the phone all day!” She let out a big sigh. “I can’t tell you how good it feels to be caught up with my housework—and to have such a willing worker!”
“Very good, Madam,” I said. “Will that be all?” I didn’t want to break character while I was still in costume. Mom chuckled and then regally waved me away. “I sure love you!” she called after me, as I hurried to get my Sunday clothes clean for the next day.
The “real” Mother’s Day, Sunday, was a pretty good one. Mom was relaxed and happy. In sacrament meeting, she kept smiling at me with a double-mushy, wonderful-boy look. At home, every two minutes she raved about her Butler-for-the-Day. She kept saying how she could feel the spirit of the Sabbath day so much better in an orderly house.
The twins, however, stared at me with something less than stars in their eyes. They had gone the poem-and-a-kiss route.
“I wish I’d thought of that butler thing,” one of them said.
“Well, I know what I’m going to do,” the other one said. “I’m going to ask Mom if I can be her lady’s maid all day next Saturday.”
“I have dibs on the next Saturday! Let’s dress up and call her mum, and curtsy!”
They ran up to the attic to look for a costume. Once my sisters get an idea, there’s no stopping them, even if it’s somebody else’s. But if they want to steal my idea and be lady’s maids, that’s fine with me. Being Butler-for-the-Day was pretty strenuous. Once a year is about all Andrews can handle. But I guess Andy could help out a little more regularly. Only I’m not wearing a suit to do it—no way!

A newly baptized member told me what she felt when she received that gift. This was a faithful Christian woman who had spent her life in service to others. She knew and loved the Lord, and she had felt the manifestations of His Spirit. When she received the added light of the restored gospel, she was baptized and the elders placed their hands upon her head and gave her the gift of the Holy Ghost. She recalled, “I felt the influence of the Holy Ghost settle upon me with greater intensity than I had ever felt before. He was like an old friend who had guided me in the past but now had come to stay.”

When I served as a mission president in Hawaii, I had many opportunities to speak with young elders and sisters struggling to become better missionaries. I remember one missionary who became deeply discouraged. His missionary work had become unbearable to him, and he started doubting his testimony. He came to me with the request to send him home.

Instead, I asked him to follow the example of Nephi in pondering and praying about his concerns and desires (see 1 Nephi 10:17; 11:1). This is a practice I have followed for many years and a practice many other General Authorities of the Church follow. I asked the missionary to go to his apartment and do the following:
Rise from his bed early—in his case, a few minutes before 6:30 a.m.
Exercise for a few minutes.
Wash his body and shave—make himself clean.
Dress for the day.
Go to a quiet place inside his apartment.
Kneel, subdue his spirit before Heavenly Father, and call upon Him. Talk with Him in reverent prayer.
Wait for His holy inspiration, pondering the scriptures or a recent general conference talk and think about the specific problems he faced.
I promised this young elder that if he did this and immersed himself in the scriptures, especially the Book of Mormon, for a few minutes every day, he would experience feelings of joy and would receive strength to go on.3
A few days later he came to see me. His eyes filled with tears as he told me of his experiences during his early-morning devotional time. He served wonderfully as a servant of the Lord and completed an honorable mission. His wife recently told me that he continues to rise early to have private time with his Heavenly Father.
I taught this same principle to each of the missionaries over whom I had the privilege to preside. I was concerned that we were not doing all we could to bring the light of the gospel to the Hawaiian people. Within a relatively short time after the missionaries started this practice, the number of referrals we received from members increased, teaching opportunities went up, and the number of baptisms in our mission doubled and then tripled. All of this happened because the missionaries’ efforts were magnified by power of the Holy Spirit.

Jean’s older sister, Marilyn, played the violin in the orchestra at BYU. Sitting next to her was Julie Groberg, who also played the violin. It was the first semester, and these two girls shared many conversations. One day Julie and Marilyn got talking about their families. Julie spoke of her young brother who was a freshman and hadn’t had a date since he arrived at BYU. Marilyn told of her sister, Jean, who was also a freshman and hadn’t had a date yet either. “So, together, they cooked up this blind date arrangement and approached me,” said Jean. “I didn’t like the idea of a blind date, but our other roommate knew the Groberg family. She gave enthusiastic counsel that I shouldn’t turn down this great opportunity. So on the good faith of my sister and our roommate, I mustered up the courage.”
Her first date with John H. Groberg was only the beginning of what in time developed into a beautiful courtship. Five years later it lead to eternal marriage in the Los Angeles temple. But first, while he served a mission in the Pacific Islands, she continued dating and enjoying the association of many friends. She was also diligent in keeping pace with his spiritual growth through study, active service in the Church, and keeping in touch with him through letters. Jean shared something about those letters that became even more important in later years. “His letters would come from so far away and would be written sometimes months ahead of the time he would finally find a boat to take them out. There would be times I would have a particular concern, and it seemed that I would get a letter from him just at the right time telling of an experience he had had or a lesson he had learned that held the very answer I needed. Often the letter had been written before the concern even existed, but it just seemed the timing was what it needed to be.”

Later, I offered to assist two members of a family that lived nearby who were struggling. They accepted my help and became part of my household.
I didn’t have the financial means, however, to support us. So I had to work harder than ever, supporting three people instead of one. It was a big lifestyle change.
To navigate that change, I knew I needed to follow my mother’s words and hold tight to the iron rod. Holding on to the iron rod includes remembering the Savior and studying the word of God. I needed to set a good example, communicate more with God, and study the scriptures every day. So, we started studying the scriptures together. Soon, the Spirit became abundant in our home.
The most fulfilling and wonderful times of my life have come from holding to the iron rod. I have also learned that “as you hold on to the iron rod, you will walk hand in hand with Jesus Christ. He will be guiding you, and He will be teaching you.”

For units where face-to-face meetings are allowed but not yet advisable for Primary-age children, President Rizaldito and Sister Josette Castro of Davao 1st Ward, Davao Stake advise parents to find ways to help keep their young ones focused on Sunday as the Lord’s day. “We have our two younger children watch Church videos for children while they wait for online Primary,” says President Castro, who serves as stake president. “We also teach them reverence for the Lord by having them wear Sunday best clothes,” he adds.
Sister Castro also has her two boys Boyd, 11, and Kiel, 6, make the most out of Primary online resources such as the Activity Pages and the Children’s Guidebook, which are both available online (www.churchofjesuschrist.org) and in the Church’s Gospel Library app. “We also adjusted our family home evening schedule to Sunday night so that the whole family can focus on the gospel more on the sabbath,” she reveals.

In Nairobi, Kenya, one couple had long struggled to find stable employment. The challenge to provide the necessities of life for their children was wearing on them both. There seemed to be nowhere to turn, as most of their friends and family members found themselves in the same predicament.

A recent convert to the Church, the husband learned about the free employment services available at the LDS Employment Center in Nairobi while he was at church one Sunday. He visited the center the following Monday. After attending several career and small-business workshops over the next few weeks, he felt confident he could be successful as an entrepreneur marketing his wife’s cooking. With the assistance of an employment specialist, they completed a detailed business plan and went to work.

In her small kitchen, the wife prepared delicious samosas and mandazis, local dishes that they sold outside a nearby office building for the morning meal. Their baskets were soon emptied and the morning’s earnings were used to purchase ingredients for the noonday meal.

Before long their business flourished and became so popular they were able to obtain a contract to provide meals for employees at a large office building. They were slowly able to save enough to purchase a refrigerator, a food-warming table, and other equipment to improve their business. This couple now find great satisfaction in being able to provide for their family. With the increased profits and demands, they have been able to hire others to help them, creating employment opportunities for others in their ward.

“Please take out your crayons,” Mrs. Webb said. “We’re going to do an art activity.”
Natalie was excited. She loved art projects. Natalie listened carefully because she knew her teacher always wanted things done just right.
Mrs. Webb gave everyone a piece of brightly colored paper. “Last week we made Mother’s Day cards,” she said. “Today I’d like you to make a card for your dad. You can save it for Father’s Day in a few weeks.”
Natalie carefully folded her piece of colored paper. She picked out her favorite crayons and drew a big flower on the front of her card. Then she opened her card and used her best handwriting to copy the words her teacher had written on the board.
As Natalie wrote, she started to feel sad. Everyone in her class seemed to have a dad. But Natalie lived with just her mom.
When school ended that day, Mrs. Webb said, “Be sure to take your card home and put it in a safe place. And remember to give it to your dad on Father’s Day.”
Natalie picked up her card. She thought it looked very pretty. But what could she do with it if she took it home? Quietly she put the card in her desk and left it there.
When she got home, Natalie kept thinking about her card. And the more she thought about it, the worse she felt. After dinner she helped Mom wash the dishes. This was usually her favorite time with Mom. But tonight Natalie felt unhappy and strange inside.
“Mommy, why am I different from the other kids?” she asked. “I wish I had a dad to talk to, like they do.” She explained about the Father’s Day card.
Mom stopped washing dishes and dried her hands on a towel. She put her arms around Natalie.
“I know how much you miss having a dad to talk to,” Mom said. “But you do have a Heavenly Father who loves you, and you can talk to Him whenever you want.”
Natalie thought for a moment. “Is that when I pray?”
“That’s right,” Mom said. “When you pray you can tell Heavenly Father anything you would want a father to know.” Mom started humming the tune to “I Am a Child of God.”
Natalie started singing, and Mom joined in. As Natalie sang, she began to feel better.
When they finished singing, Natalie asked, “But what about the card? I can’t send that to Heavenly Father.”
“No, but can you think of someone else who loves you, someone who comes to visit and play with you?” Mom asked.
“I could give it to Grandpa!” Natalie said. “Would he like that?”
“I think he would like it a lot,” Mom said.
That night when Natalie knelt by her bed to say her prayers, she remembered what Mom had said. It gave her a warm, peaceful feeling inside to know that Heavenly Father was listening.
The next day when school ended, Natalie put her Father’s Day card carefully into her backpack. She couldn’t wait to give Grandpa his card. And she knew she had a Heavenly Father who would always be there to love her and hear her prayers.

Every four years my stake has a trek. We dress up in pioneer clothing and are only allowed to bring certain items with us. The whole experience is fun. When we did it this last July, the weather was great. Once we hiked to the valley, we had pioneer games and a hoedown with pioneer music and modern music. There was also a testimony meeting. People felt the Spirit, and their testimonies were strengthened. Bonds were forged with new people, and new friends were made. I’m glad we could celebrate Pioneer Day through trek.
Emily H., Washington

On 18 July 2023, I lost the most important person in my life. My mother was my strength, my pillar, but also my weakness. At that time, I was no longer attending church because I worked every day, including Sundays and public holidays, and my ward met at 8:00 a.m. I missed one time, then another … and it became a vicious cycle.
When I lost my mother, I realized I hadn’t made the most of my time with her. I began to regret not quitting my job to spend more time with her after her stroke in March 2020. She lived for three more years, but since I was often at work, I feel like I didn’t truly cherish her final moments. A sense of guilt overwhelmed me. In my mind, I was stuck in a routine: work, medical appointments, caring for my mom, sleep, on repeat. There was no room for anything else.
That’s when I understood the truth: I didn’t trust God enough. I had given more importance to my temporal needs than to my spiritual life.
Yet my mother’s passing brought me closer to the Lord again. He became my support. In Him, I found the peace and love I needed to cope with grief. I gave myself the challenge for 2024 to start attending sacrament meeting regularly again.
With my boss’s encouragement, I joined the Puurai Ward in Tahiti at the beginning of 2024. There, I was welcomed by kind and always-smiling members. It became my place of refuge every Sunday. The more I attended, the more I felt our Heavenly Father’s love grow stronger. That’s when I started to seriously rethink my priorities in life.
Of course, we need a job and income to live, but I was beginning to feel emotionally, physically, and mentally exhausted. That’s when my bishop told me about Sister Tararaina Mana, a service missionary and career coach in our ward. He said I could meet with her if I wished. I was immediately interested. I was at a turning point and no longer knew what to do.
On Sunday, 2 June 2024, I had my first coaching session with her. That first meeting was very different from what I expected. I thought it would be like school orientation where you pick a career based on your degrees, but it was so much more! For the first time, someone asked me questions that were truly about me. Beyond my academic background, my coach focused on my needs, my expectations—simply put, on me.
We started exercises that I didn’t quite understand at first. We began with my “Whys.” Thanks to that exercise, I started thinking deeply about my goals and my life vision. I rediscovered myself. I learned to listen to myself, to know myself, to trust myself. I realized I had forgotten who I was. I had let myself be consumed by temporal needs and society’s expectations.
Society imposes a model on us: studies, diploma, great job, house, car, then family. It sounds simple, tut reality is much harsher. Fear, doubt, and anxiety about basic needs had taken over my spiritual growth.
Today, the difference between who I was then and who I am now is immense. From September 2024 to April 2025, I took various small jobs to cover basic expenses while coaching gave me motivation and taught me discipline. I wanted to create professional opportunities for myself, so I registered for three different exams: prison guard, professional tourism qualification, and a SEFI (a local employment agency) training program.
Thanks to my faith in God, my perseverance, and my coaching sessions, I now hold a professional qualification in tourism. I passed the entry exams for the prison guard role, and I’m currently enrolled in “Business Creator and Manager” training, an intensive three-month program. Opportunities are opening up for me!
On a personal level, I’m now reflecting on finding my eternal companion, someone to build my eternal family with. Putting Christ at the centre of my life has become a clear and natural choice.
Coaching has had a powerful impact on my life. Without those regular sessions, I would still be lost—trapped in fear, doubt, and lack of self-confidence. Today, I know what I want. I’m ready to move forward. And I can finally say that I’m proud of myself and the path I’ve walked, even though it’s been filled with trials.
With the Lord by my side and inspiring people like my coach, I know where I’m headed. I can’t wait to have the ideal job so I can, in turn, give back and thank those who supported me when I had nothing. That truly means a lot to me.