Gospel Story Finder

I was raised a deeply devout Roman Catholic, going to church every day. Studying the Bible was a normal every day event which I loved. My testimony of Jesus Christ was well established. He was my cornerstone, my iron rod. I had never visited any other church and was unfamiliar with The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. I often prayed that I could be a good Christian example to my children.
During one of my prayer sessions, I experienced a very personal and sacred spiritual encounter. I shared this encounter with a local parish priest and was told these things don’t happen today, so I kept this to myself for many years. But it became foundational to my testimony.
When I moved to Utah, I became involved in the local Catholic community. I didn’t drive back then, so my husband would take me and the children. One Sunday we were running late for church and took a different route. On this route, we passed a building with a sign which read: “The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.” Immediately, a presence came over me. Even though we were going about fifty miles, it felt like time had stood still. After mass, I mentioned to the parish priest that I saw a sign that said “The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints”. I expressed an appreciation for the name and asked, since we are the true church, why aren’t Catholics called this? He admonished me not to have anything to do with Mormons. This was the first time I had heard this word but the seed had been planted.
Some time later, there was a knock on my door. I assumed they were Jehovah Witnesses so I told them I wasn’t interested and they started to walk away. For some reason I called them back and asked them who they were. They mentioned they were members of “The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.” This captured my attention, and I invited them in. They left me a Book of Mormon which began a friendship with two ladies who were members of the local Relief Society.
A few months later, my husband was asked to work on Sundays so I had no way of getting to my local church. Around the same time, my children began to interact with other children in the neighbourhood, which led to me being invited to activities at their local church. On my first visit to my neighbour‘s church, they were showing a film of Joseph Smith‘s first vision. It was new to me, but when it came to the part he was bound, from my own experience years before, I knew this to be true.
As mentioned I wanted my children to know of Jesus as I knew of him, so I started to attend the Sunday services. I grew up in a Latin based church service where prayers and hymns were all in Latin, so this was the first time I had ever entered another church and heard hymns in English. I remember the first hymn I heard was “O my Father Thou That Dwellest.” It filled me with awe and is now my favourite hymn.
Thereafter, I was invited to the Relief Society and then my baptism came around. I think the whole stake came out to see this young Scottish girl being baptised in Utah. I have since held many positions in the church, such as Relief Society President, Primary President, Stake Primary President, and Sunday school teacher. Currently, I am in charge of Public Relations and Communications for the Greenock Branch.

Thanks to Scout training and quick thinking, a tragedy was averted in Charlotte, North Carolina. Todd Smith of the Charlotte Second Ward saved the life of a five-year-old after the youngster was hit by a car.
The child was riding a tricycle when a slow-moving car hit him and knocked him unconscious. Todd saw the accident and after telling his mother to call for help, he ran to the little boy. Todd found that the child’s tongue was blocking his throat. Todd cleared the child’s air passage and helped stop the bleeding from a head wound. Todd also prevented anyone from moving the child until the rescue squad arrived, in case there were any back or neck injuries.
Todd received a Medal of Merit and was honored for his quick action.

In 1859, a French tightrope walker and acrobat by the name of Jean François Gravelet, known professionally as the Great Blondin, awed large crowds of people with aerial acrobatics as he crossed on a high wire that great gorge that makes Niagara Falls. One instance he walked half way and stopped, placed a chair on the wire, and read a book. Another crossing found him balanced on the wire as he cooked an egg. But perhaps the most widely known of his exploits involved a wheelbarrow to be pushed across the great divide on the high wire.

As he began his trek, he stopped, turned to the crowd, and asked, "Do you believe I can do this?" "Yes," was the overwhelming response. "We have watched you do many things and we know you can do this." Blondin asked again, "You really believe I can do this?" "Oh yes," came the confident responses from the safety of the cliff side. Blondin locked eyes with one man in particular and asked, "You sir, do you believe I can do this?" The man responded, "Yes, I do. I have watched you before do many amazing things." To that, Blondin looked him in the eye and said to the man, "Get in the wheelbarrow."

We are very much like that man, who, by the way, as the story goes, did not get in the wheelbarrow. We have seen great things, we know great things, but then when it is time to respond to "prove me now herewith" we stammer and back up like the man and the wheelbarrow. We seem to be strong to profess confidence but slow to prove it herewith.

I see these wonderful missionaries sitting here in their white shirts. You don’t have to look very far to see who they are. That’s terrific. Let me just close with a little experience I had with one of them, and I challenge them to go out and do the same thing. I think they will. But I want to be on all of you. You know, when you travel around this Church you see Mormons everywhere. You can’t get on a plane without being with one or two of them. I got on a plane the other day in San Francisco going home. The stewardess brought me a cup of coffee and said, “Here you are, sir.”

I said, “Good heavens, you’ve got me confused with somebody else! I didn’t order that.”

“I know,” she said, “but I’m just testing you, Elder Dunn.”

Well, I like to test you. When I get on a plane, and when I find that I’m not recognized, I have a little fun in reverse. Once I was coming back from New York, and then I got on a transfer at Chicago. I had just gotten seated and was strapping myself in the seat. Lo and behold, on the plane comes a returned missionary. We can spot them everywhere. They may not think so, but we can, and I caught his eye and nodded at him. He nodded, but there was not recognition, so he went on back to the other cabin, took his seat, and we got airborne. I thought I would just check him out and see if he really knew, so I walked back and forth two or three times, and it didn’t register. Then I noticed that there were two open seats beside him, and so I thought, “I’m going to really give him the whole test.” I got a magazine and said, “Pardon me, young man, is that seat taken?”

I knew right then what kind of missionary we had because he said, “No, sir, sit down.” And that was all I needed to know. I sat down, opened up my magazine, and got real involved. I watched out of the corner of my eye his approach, and I saw him gird up his loins, fresh courage take. He cleared his voice and said, “Pardon me, sir, what do you know about the Mormons?”

“Oh,” I said, “I know a little bit.”

He said, “Would you like to know more?”

I said, “I believe I would.” Now, that isn’t a lie, is it? Before I could get another word out, he opened up his briefcase, took out one of those portable flannelboards, and put it on the seat between us. Out came his flipcharts, and in the next 2 1/2 hours I got four complete lessons. He was terrific! He was enthused. He was excited. He knew what it was all about. I thought, “Now I’m going to give him the supreme test.” So I asked him every miserable, hard question I have ever been asked. He looked at me and said, “Ah sir, You’re missing the point.”

I said, “How am I missing the point?”

He said, “You’re not listening with your heart; you’re arguing with your head. Now listen,” he said. “I’m going to bear my testimony, and you’ll know what I know.” He bore his testimony. It was sweet and wonderful. I wanted to be rebaptized. Well, he was great. As we finished the fourth lesson, we circled over the Wasatch Range and headed into Salt Lake Valley. All of a sudden without any notice he closed his book and said, “I’ve got to quit.”

“What’s the matter? This is getting good.”

He said, “I’m home.”

I said, “Where’s home?”

“Right here.”

“Well,” I said, “Where have you been?”

“I have been on a mission for the Mormon Church.”

I said, “Was it worth it?”

He teared up and said, “Was it worth it? It was the greatest time of my life.”

I said, “Anybody here to meet you?”

He said, “I think my whole genealogy is here.” The plane landed, taxied over to the runway, and there was a sign that you could see had been made in family home evening—about twenty feet long. “Welcome home, Elder So-and-so.” The plane stopped, the door opened, and he said, “Would you mind if I got out ahead of you?”

I said, “Not at all. I love to watch a successful missionary come home anytime.” What a scene that was! Down the ladder he went. You didn’t have to tell me who his mother was. She had broken security. As she ran over to him, she swept him off the bottom rung of that ladder and spun him around. Behind her came the little five- or six- or seven-year-old brother, proud of his big brother. He grabbed a hold of his brother’s thigh, held on, and all I heard him mumble was “my brother.” Behind him was the sweet little thing who had waited. You elders ought to know that they do once in a while. She wanted to be proper. You could tell she had come from the right kind of environment, so she put out her hand to shake his. That didn’t quite seem to fit, so she pulled it back and then she kind of looked to see if heaven was looking. Finally she let her womanly instincts take over, grabbed that kid and introduced a whole new technique. When that boy came up, he was looking for President Kimball and all the Brethren. Behind her came the Father. You can always tell a father, can’t you? Kind of proud, puffed up, but he doesn’t want to show it. He had his hands in his belt, kind of sauntered over, and his look said, “That’s my boy.” They embraced as dads and sons do, patted each other on the shoulder, and I knew exactly what kind of home that was. So I tried to get out of there, made a right-hand run, but while the dad was patting the son he saw me. “Elder Dunn,” he said, “Were you on that plane?”

And the boy said, “Elder who?” Well, he turned and came over, and I walked back and said, “It’s true, and I just want to say this, Elder: Thank God for young people like you.” And I thank that family.

This is the case of a 17-year-old unwed mother. This young lady came from a good, active Mormon family. The lines of communication had broken down between parents and daughter. She was in serious trouble from a pregnancy and was on the verge of compounding the problem in such a way as to further jeopardize any possibility of a happy, successful life when one of the dedicated staff workers became involved. Through extra effort and wise counseling, he was instrumental in saving her from falling off the precipice. He helped open the channel of communication between mother and daughter, and now, a few years later, this same young woman, through repentance and forgiveness and wise counsel, is happily married to a fine husband and is doing her part to help her neighbors. Instead of failure, she is now experiencing joy and peace of mind through living a worthwhile, fulfilling life.

Once when Ryan was giving a talk at an elementary school, one student asked him how it feels to be handicapped. Ryan answered by asking, “Well, how does it feel to be human?” What Ryan couldn’t say in that particular situation was that the Church has really helped him. “I think a lot of disabled people get preoccupied thinking, ‘I can’t do this, and my life is just going to be a waste.’ Isn’t it 1 Samuel 16:7 that says the Lord looks not on the outer appearance, but on the heart? That’s rather important to me.” [1 Sam. 16:7]

I appreciated the article “How to Be a Disciple of Christ” by President Dieter F. Uchtdorf (August 2012). After I read it, I started thinking that I need to do more to share the gospel. Then an opportunity came. While on a field trip with my school band, a friend and I started to talk about my religion and how it started. He said, “I believe in God and that there is a right church, but how will I know which is the right one?” I told him about Joseph Smith and ended up telling him the story of the Book of Mormon and also the history of the Church up to when the Saints moved to Utah. The whole time, my friend was asking me questions about specific people and wanted me to tell him more stories of people in the Book of Mormon.
None of this would have happened if I hadn’t told him that I was a Latter-day Saint. We must always have the Spirit burning within us so that others may take notice of us and want the happiness that we have because of the gospel in our lives.

When I was a young mother, my husband and I found ourselves taking our five children under the age of eight to live in South America. Although none of us spoke the language, my six-year-old had the greatest difficulty learning a new language. We decided to put her in preschool with four-year-olds, even though she should be starting first grade. Our hope was that interaction with younger children would be less intimidating to her and might facilitate her ability to communicate in Portuguese.
But the reality for my daughter was that she was as foreign to the children as they were to her. Each day was a struggle, and I anguished for her every morning as I walked her to school and then waited for her to return, dejected, at the end of the day.
One day, some children were particularly unkind to her. A few even threw rocks and bullied her, laughing rudely at recess. She was scared and hurt and decided she couldn’t go back into class. Sitting alone while the playground emptied, she remembered what we had taught her about loneliness. She remembered that Heavenly Father is always close to His children and she could speak to Him at any time, not just before bedtime. He would understand the language of her heart. In a corner of the playground, she bowed her head and said a prayer. She didn’t know what to pray for, so she asked that her father and mother could be with her to protect her. While she was returning to the classroom, a Primary song came into her mind.
I often go walking in meadows of clover,
And I gather armfuls of blossoms of blue.
I gather the blossoms the whole meadow over;
Dear mother, all flowers remind me of you.
[“I Often Go Walking,” Children’s Songbook, 202]
As she opened her eyes, she noticed one little flower growing between the cracks of the cement. She picked it up and put it into her pocket. Her troubles with the other children did not disappear, but she walked back into the school feeling that her parents were with her.

At a special conference held in Great Salt Lake City on August 28 and 29, 1852, Richard was called to serve a mission in Hindoostan (Hindustan), India. For four years the Ballantynes had been hungry. Their clothing was inadequate to protect them against the harsh winters; they had no money and little food. With Richard gone, life would be even harder. Yet Huldah did not hesitate in supporting her husband in this call. She immediately began to prepare clothing for Richard, darning his socks and scrubbing and mending his white shirts. When she discovered that his one suit was totally threadbare, she ripped out the seams of her best homespun skirt, made from material that she had woven and dyed herself. She took Richard’s measurements and carefully tailored a suit for him. That suit was to last him throughout his mission.
Richard was gone for three years. By herself, Huldah cared for their three small children, tilled the land, and made all of the family’s daily necessities. She carded wool and extracted dyes from roots, leaves, bark, vegetable peelings, and cochineal bugs. From beef and mutton tallow, she fashioned her own candles. Scraps of fat, rind, and meat trimmings were saved to make into soap. After soaking and drying potatoes, she grated them to use as starch.
Throughout her life, Huldah quietly loved and took care of her family. She did not serve a mission or even travel far from her own home after she settled in Utah. Yet her influence was deeply felt in the lives of her husband and nine children.

Next week I will have the opportunity to go to the House of the Lord in order to perform sacred temple ordinances on behalf of a cousin who did not live long enough to complete these for himself. His life ended tragically in the company of a supposed friend early one cold, wet autumn morning, when the car he was riding in careened off the road, hit a telephone pole, and then was literally ripped in half when it slammed into a tree. Members of his extended family would like to believe that my cousin died instantly, since the injuries that his body sustained were too horrific to describe. It was no longer a fit or sustainable tabernacle for his spirit, and thus a merciful God allowed his mortal probation to come to an end there amidst the dead leaves and litter at the side of a road in the hilly midlands of Staten Island, New York.

While I am in no position to judge him, I fear that my cousin was still woefully unprepared when his life ended. He had experienced a very tempestuous and violent youth, and his adulthood was marred by perverse and even satanic practices that he encountered and too frequently embraced when he wandered into "forbidden paths" and became lost. Nevertheless, he and I stayed in touch over the years and we conversed frequently on the phone or via email. I had grown up viewing him as a wayward younger brother, born out of season and out of context, who should have been an heir to the blessings of the gospel had things worked out differently for him. Despite his many incorrect choices, I was not ready to abandon him. As time passed we spoke with increasing frequency about gospel-related topics and about the purpose of our life here on Earth. In small but consistent increments I could see his heart softening, and I was quite confident that one day, with the Savior's help, he would be strong enough to turn away from his sinful past and enter the waters of baptism. I had looked forward to that day, had prayed for that day, and had worked toward that day. When I was a young man, I had made a promise to my grandmother that I would not forget my cousin nor would I fail to stay in contact with him, no matter how troubled he might be or how much trouble he might find himself in. I'd like to believe that I kept that promise while my cousin lived, and by completing his temple work, I shall continue to keep that promise now that he has passed beyond this life.

The Savior taught: "Thou shalt live together in love, insomuch that thou shalt weep for the loss of them that die, and more especially for those that have not hope of a glorious resurrection. And it shall come to pass that those that die in me shall not taste of death, for it shall be sweet unto them; and they that die not in me, wo unto them, for their death is bitter" (D&C 42:45-47).

My cousin lost his life, based in part on his own choices and, more specifically, as the direct consequence of the driver of the car in which he rode being incapacitated by drugs and alcohol. That man how faces many years in prison as a result of his choices and their tragic consequences. I do not believe that my cousin was ready to leave this life so soon, but I do believe that he had already reversed his fall and was moving with increasing speed in the right direction.

In the summer of 2001, Sister Oaks and I were in Manaus, Brazil. I spoke to about 100 missionaries in that great city on the Amazon. As I stood to speak, I was prompted to put aside some notes I usually use on such occasions and substitute some thoughts on the importance of timing—some of the scriptures and principles I have been discussing here.
I reminded the missionaries that some of our most important plans cannot be brought to pass without the agency and actions of others. A missionary cannot baptize five persons this month without the agency and action of five other persons. A missionary can plan and work and do all within his or her power, but the desired result will depend upon the additional agency and action of others.
Consequently, a missionary’s goals ought to be based upon the missionary’s personal agency and action, not upon the agency or action of others. But this is not the time to elaborate on what I told the missionaries about goals. Instead I will share some other applications of the principle of timing, giving illustrations from our personal lives.
Because of things over which we have no control, we cannot plan and bring to pass everything we desire in our lives. Many important things will occur in our lives that we have not planned, and not all of them will be welcome. Even our most righteous desires may elude us or come in different ways or at different times than we have sought to plan.
For example, we cannot be sure that we will marry as soon as we desire. A marriage that is timely in our view may be our blessing or it may not. My wife Kristen is an example. She did not marry until many years after her mission and her graduation.
The timing of marriage is perhaps the best example of an extremely important event in our lives that is almost impossible to plan. Like other important mortal events that depend on the agency of others or the will and timing of the Lord, marriage cannot be anticipated or planned with certainty. We can and should work for and pray for our righteous desires, but despite this, many will remain single well beyond their desired time for marriage.
So what should be done in the meantime? Faith in the Lord Jesus Christ prepares us for whatever life brings. This kind of faith prepares us to deal with life’s opportunities—to take advantage of those that are received and to persist through the disappointments of those that are lost. In the exercise of that faith, we should commit ourselves to the priorities and standards we will follow on matters we do not control and persist faithfully in those commitments, whatever happens to us because of the agency of others or the timing of the Lord. When we do this, we will have a constancy in our lives that will give us direction and peace. Whatever the circumstances beyond our control, our commitments and standards can be constant.
The commitments and service of adult singles can anchor them through the difficult years of waiting for the right time and the right person. Their commitments and service can also inspire and strengthen others. Wise are those who make this commitment: I will put the Lord first in my life, and I will keep His commandments. The performance of that commitment is within everyone’s control. We can fulfill that commitment without regard to what others decide to do, and that commitment will anchor us no matter what timing the Lord directs for the most important events in our lives.
Do you see the difference between committing to what you will do, in contrast with trying to plan that you will be married by the time you graduate or that you will earn at least X amount of dollars on your first job?
If we have faith in God and if we are committed to the fundamentals of keeping His commandments and putting Him first in our lives, we do not need to plan every single event—even every important event—and we should not feel rejected or depressed if some things—even some very important things—do not happen at the time we had planned or hoped or prayed.
Commit yourself to put the Lord first in your life, keep His commandments, and do what the Lord’s servants ask you to do. Then your feet are on the pathway to eternal life. Then it does not matter whether you are called to be a bishop or a Relief Society president, whether you are married or single, or whether you die tomorrow. You do not know what will happen. Do your best on what is fundamental and personal and then trust in the Lord and His timing.
Life has some strange turns. I will share some personal experiences that illustrate this.
When I was a young man I thought I would serve a mission. I graduated from high school in June 1950. Thousands of miles away, one week after that high school graduation, a North Korean army crossed the 38th parallel, and our country was at war. I was 17 years old, but as a member of the Utah National Guard, I was soon under orders to prepare for mobilization and active service. Suddenly, for me and for many other young men of my generation, the full-time mission we had planned or hoped for was not to be.
Another example: After I served as president of Brigham Young University for nine years, I was released. A few months later the governor of the state of Utah appointed me to a 10-year term on the supreme court of the state. I was then 48 years old. My wife June and I tried to plan the rest of our lives. We wanted to serve the full-time mission neither of us had been privileged to serve. We planned that I would serve 20 years on the state supreme court. Then, at the end of two 10-year terms, when I would be nearly 69 years old, I would retire from the supreme court and we would submit our missionary papers and serve a mission as a couple.
I had my 69th birthday two years ago and was vividly reminded of that important plan. If things had gone as we planned, I would have submitted papers to serve a mission with my wife June.
Four years after we made that plan I was called to the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles—something we never dreamed would happen. Realizing then that the Lord had different plans and different timing than we had assumed, I resigned as a justice of the supreme court. But this was not the end of the important differences. When I was 66, my wife June died of cancer. Two years later I married Kristen McMain, the eternal companion who now stands at my side.
How fundamentally different my life is than I had sought to plan! My professional life has changed. My personal life has changed. But the commitment I made to the Lord—to put Him first in my life and to be ready for whatever He would have me do—has carried me through these changes of eternal importance.
Faith and trust in the Lord give us the strength to accept and persist, whatever happens in our lives. I did not know why I received a “no” answer to my prayers for the recovery of my wife of many years, but the Lord gave me a witness that this was His will, and He gave me the strength to accept it. Two years after her death, I met the wonderful woman who is now my wife for eternity. And I know that this also was the will of the Lord.
I return to the subject with which I began. Do not rely on planning every event of your life—even every important event. Stand ready to accept the Lord’s planning and the agency of others in matters that inevitably affect you. Plan, of course, but fix your planning on personal commitments that will carry you through no matter what happens. Anchor your life to eternal principles, and act upon those principles whatever the circumstances and whatever the actions of others. Then you can await the Lord’s timing and be sure of the outcome in eternity.
The most important principle of timing is to take the long view. Mortality is just a small slice of eternity, but how we conduct ourselves here—what we become by our actions and desires, confirmed by our covenants and the ordinances administered to us by proper authority—will shape our destiny for all eternity. As the prophet Amulek taught, “This life is the time for men to prepare to meet God” (Alma 34:32). That reality should help us take the long view—the timing of eternity.
I pray that each of us will hear and heed the word of the Lord on how to conduct ourselves in mortality and set our standards and make our commitments so that we can be in harmony and in tune with the timing of our Father in Heaven.

It did not take long for me to discover that I was in fact on the Lord’s errand. Unexpectedly faith-promoting experiences occurred for me throughout that short week. Let me briefly share two of the more profound occurrences. When I arrived in Perth, I was met by a colleague who took me to the lovely room that was provided for me. He asked if I might like to go out to the college and look over the auditorium where I would be speaking. I thought it a splendid suggestion. We drove quite a way out to the campus, and when we arrived at the building in which the main plenary sessions would be given, I found to my delight that they would be held in the chapel of the college. A custodian met us at the door and let us in. The podium and stand of the large chapel were in the center of the far wall, and on either side of the podium were windows floor to ceiling overlooking a beautiful lake and lovely trees. This was an amazing and inspiring setting. My host invited me to step up to the podium so that we could check out the audiovisual equipment. On the podium was one of the largest Bibles that I have ever seen, opened and inviting.

“Read something, and let’s check out the sound system,” he said.

I looked down at the Bible and read the first verse that came to my sight: “But covet earnestly the best gifts: and yet shew I unto you a more excellent way” (1 Corinthians 12:31).

I was stunned. I looked at my host and wondered if earlier in the morning he had deliberately opened the Bible to that page containing a scripture that was the essence of my message there in Perth, but he had no way of knowing what I would read, and the room had been locked when we arrived.

The next day when I delivered my first keynote address, there was a heckler in the audience. The local people knew about him and anticipated his behavior, but I did not. He was a brilliant and gifted but undisciplined maverick. He kept asking questions that challenged the validity of my remarks. Atone point he said, “What makes you think there is any such thing as gifts or giftedness?”

Immediately the incident from the day before came to mind and was so fresh in my thinking that I cited the scripture and told him that the scriptures verified the existence of gifts and our responsibilities relative to these gifts. The heckler remained silent for the rest of the session. Afterward it occurred to me that ordinarily I would never have dared to bring in scriptures or direct religious dialogue at a national conference. At lunch I was cornered by some people who asked me how I dared to mix the spiritual with the academic, and I told them that I genuinely believed there was nothing that was not basically spiritual.

Another profound incident occurred when my hosts told me that a picture had been requested by the local newspaper. They wanted to take my picture with a gifted child. “Fine,” I said. “This should be easy, for probably any child will do for the picture.”

“Not so,” they said. “We need a gifted child; wait and see what happens.” I told them to locate the child, and I would cooperate as requested. Later they called and told me that they had a gifted five-year-old boy scheduled, and he would be there in the morning for a photo session. As I was thinking of this meeting, I wondered what I might give this small boy as a gift from America. As a general practice I take a few things with me that can be used as thank-you or friendship gifts. I had brought with me three small jars of Bear Lake raspberry jam and a couple of beautiful calendars. I did not think any of these items would necessarily appeal to a five-year-old boy. Then I reflected back to my hurried departure from home when I had cleaned out my purse and replaced only those items that I felt were needed on the trip. At the last minute I had included an item that could serve as a gift for this little boy.

In the morning the little boy came with his mother. There were also two people from the newspaper. One interviewed the mother while the other one came with me across the street with the small boy. We sat down on a bench by a beautiful river with black swans nearby. While the photographer took pictures, this small boy told me about the orbiting procedures of spaceships as he showed me the book he was reading. At a quiet time I told this little boy that I had brought him a magic ring from America.

“Magic? Is it really magic?” he asked.

I told him that it was not magic as most people think of magic, but that it could do magical things for him. We put the ring on his finger, and I asked him to identify the letters on the ring. He did so, and I told him what the letters represented. “Whenever you have an important decision to make, look down at your ring, and it will remind you to “Choose the Right” and to base your decisions on important principles.”

He was entranced with his ring and could not take his eyes off it. When we returned to meet with his mother, he ran up and told her about his ring. “Oh, my,” I thought, “his mother could be quite upset over this.”

But the mother listened intently to her son and then turned to me and, with gratitude showing in her eyes, simply said, “Thank you.” Somewhere in Perth, Australia, is a small and very gifted little boy with a Primary CTR ring.

My week was filled with these amazing experiences, and once again I was taught the importance of faith and prayer. When you are in partnership with the Lord you can accomplish wonders far beyond your acknowledged abilities. You are, however, expected to do your part: to exercise faith, self-discipline, and courage. I cannot emphasize enough the value of taking advantage of worthy opportunities for growth and preparation as they come to you so that you may be in a position to take advantage of later opportunities. Had I not consented to participate in prior challenging tasks, I would not have been even remotely prepared to accept this amazing opportunity in Perth, Australia.

Faith, testimony, and accumulated good experiences are important for personal growth. You may wonder why you are called upon to do certain things. You, too, need to pray your way through requirements and opportunities. You may have opportunities placed before you that require a great deal of courage and faith. My counsel is: It is worth whatever sacrifice is needed. Go ahead and accept that Church calling. If the Spirit confirms it, take advantage of that personal or professional opportunity. To grow we must reach, stretch, and take necessary risks. Let the Lord be your partner in all your righteous endeavors, and he will support and sustain you. And be of good faith and courage. Trust in the Lord, even in the face of opposition and trial. We never know the role of opposition in our development and growth.

I had a conversation once with a young man I cannot forget. His story of activity, complete inactivity, and a return to activity included the description of two classrooms. He said: “When I was about 15, I started to have a lot of questions about the Church. I thought maybe there would be a chance to talk about my questions at church, but it didn’t happen. In priesthood it seemed like most of the time everybody talked about the game the night before. Sunday School was about the same—maybe a little lesson thrown in during the last five minutes where the teacher asked questions, and it was kind of ‘guess-the-right-answer-from-the-manual-time.’”
Well, other things happened—late Saturday nights, a switch to an earlier meeting schedule—and soon the young man’s attendance dropped to nothing. Several years passed by until he found himself in church again. This time his face lit up as he described his Sunday School class:
“The teacher was this unimpressive-looking guy, but he was so excited about what he was teaching. He didn’t waste a minute. He asked important questions. Everyone had their scriptures. They looked up verses, shared ideas. They listened to each other. They talked about problems at school and how they fit in with the lesson. You could tell that the people in the class were all different, but they had one amazing thing in common—they were all interested in learning the gospel. After five minutes, I knew that this was a good place for me.”

“If that’s the direction you want to go, let’s take some lessons from those expert mountain climbers you recently met. What do you remember most about their experiences?”
“Oh, I learned a lot, but the most important thing I remember is their advance planning. They anticipated everything that could possibly happen and were prepared with decisions made well in advance in response to whatever they might encounter.
“Their teamwork was really impressive to me too. As they had tremendous hardships to overcome and heights to climb, they linked themselves together with ropes. The ropes were attached to something solid above as they pulled themselves up. Occasionally even the other people to whom they were linked became their anchors. We saw photographs showing one person dangling in midair while being tethered to people he trusted both above and below. He didn’t fall because of his ties to other people!
“They also maintained excellent communications. Even though they might have been temporarily separated, they were always in good communication. It seemed that the closer they were to potential danger, the more they leaned toward the center.”
“Did anyone ask the question ‘How close to the edge can I come?’” prompted her father.
“No! Quite the contrary. Their emphasis always seemed to be ‘How close to the center can I stay!’” Then, with a look of understanding, she replied, “Now I’m beginning to understand what you are trying to tell me.”

Earlier this year, my wife and I drove past the apartment where we lived 40 years ago. That was the darkest period of my life, the “Slough of Despond” [4] in my life. Like Elder Holland, I found myself saying to my younger self, “Don’t you quit!! You keep trying. You are going to make it. There are great things to come.” I did keep trying, and over the next two years, my prospects turned around and have been on an upward climb ever since.
While my path has been upward, it has not been without it’s valleys.

I can remember my dad trying to teach me this principle when I was a kid. He would say that if I was going to do a job, I should do it right, and do it right the first time. Growing up, one of my jobs was to mow the lawn. And as a kid, I always had much more important things to do than mow our lawn. So on several occasions, I would hurry though the task and not do a very good job. I would miss small sections of the grass, or I would not mow close enough to the fence, or whatever. I would just not do a very good job. When my dad got home, he would see the quality of what my work and he would always get after me. Now my dad was a stern taskmaster and when he had me redo the job the second time, he absolutely made sure that it was a much more unpleasant experience than it would have been if I had just done it right the first time. Now I'll tell you brothers and sisters, I am not an idiot, I might be a nerd, but I am not an idiot. And so with those very unpleasant redo's, I learned how to do a job right the first time. And I will tell you, I am so, so, so, so, so thankful to my dad for that. My dad taught me a lot of things in my life, but that one principle of doing things right the first time, has opened more doors for me and created more opportunities for me than I can count. It has absolutely helped me in my career and life.

When I was 11, I was having doubts about if I was ready to receive the Aaronic Priesthood. The day of my ordination was getting closer and closer.
I had been taught that if I prayed to my Heavenly Father sincerely, I would get an answer from Him. So I knelt down and asked about the things I was doubting.
Later that day, I felt like I should read the scriptures. I felt prompted to turn to Doctrine and Covenants 20. This section talks about priesthood duties and responsibilities. As I read, verse 59 stood out to me. It reads, “They are, however, to warn, expound, exhort, and teach, and invite all to come unto Christ.” These words inspired me. As I read them, I knew that I would be ready to receive the Aaronic Priesthood and be ordained a deacon.
Heavenly Father cared for me and gave me an answer that I needed to hear. Now as a deacon, I have looked back on my experiences and found that the teachings of that scripture are true. I am grateful that I chose to receive the priesthood. I look forward to serving the Lord as I advance in the priesthood.

My Great-Grandfather, Ferdinand Rottweiler.
Ferdinand Rottweiler was born in Esslingen, Germany in 1876. At the age of seven, his mother died, his father remarried, and both his father and stepmother died when he was fourteen. At fourteen years old, he was on his own. He worked several jobs, including time serving in the German military for two years. He eventually was employed as a streetcar driver. At work one day, he met missionaries of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. In his words:
Being of a religious nature, I became interested, reading their tracts and hearing them preach the everlasting gospel. It did not take me long to decide after hearing the testimonies to tell that this was the true Church. I accepted the gospel in 1901 and have never had any doubts to this day that the gospel is true and restored in its fullness.
Shortly after joining the Church, he met Rosa Marie Stelzenmuller, another convert. They were soon married and had a strong desire to emigrate to the western United States to join the body of the Church.
In 1901, not long after his baptism and marriage, they left their homeland and travelled to Utah and were sealed in the Salt Lake City Temple. They then travelled north and settled in Dubois, Idaho, then later Menan, Idaho. This is a photograph of Esslingen, Germany, their hometown. Notice how green, how civilized, and how lovely (for lack of a better word). Have you ever been to Dubois? I love eastern Idaho. I even love Dubois, but this must have been a shock. The sacrifice to leave their home, to leave their friends, to come to America—Dubois, Idaho no less—and to learn a new language, to learn how to eke out a living, farming in this cold and dry and desolate and unfamiliar landscape, humbles me greatly.
After establishing themselves in Menan, Idaho, he and his wife, Rosa, who suffered from various health issues and was relegated to a wheelchair until she passed away in 1929, raised five children, including my grandmother, Lillie Clark.
Ferdinand Rottweiler remained faithful in the gospel until his death in 1949. As his life was coming to an end, he wrote the following statement: “I hope the children will be faithful to the gospel which I gave so much for, leaving home and friends, and trying to make a new home.” What an understated summation of his sacrifice-filled life.

Edwin and Elsie were born in India. But Edwin first heard about the Church while going to school in the United States. He went to church there once. He even read the Book of Mormon. But when he got back to India, he forgot about the Church.
Some years later, Edwin and Elsie felt like they should move to Samoa. Edwin was a bug scientist, and he took a job on the island doing research. It was there that Edwin and Elsie met the missionaries. When Edwin read the Book of Mormon again, he felt something special. Elsie read the Book of Mormon too. They chose to be baptized, along with their sons and daughters.

Cami was staying overnight with Grandma and Grandpa. They had fun playing together until bedtime. “Let’s get your dress ready for church tomorrow,” Grandma said.
Cami liked going to church, but she felt a little worried. Would Grandma and Grandpa’s church be the same as hers?
The next day at church, Cami sang songs and took the sacrament. The Primary sang a special song just for her. She saw a picture of Jesus and listened to a story about when He blessed the little children.
When Cami got home, she ran to show Mommy and Daddy the picture she colored in Primary. “Guess what?” she said. “Grandma and Grandpa’s church is just like our church. We all believe in Jesus!”
Mommy hugged Cami. “We are all part of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.” Cami smiled. She was glad that Grandma and Grandpa’s church was her church too!