Gospel Story Finder

Sometimes as we study and learn here at BYU, circumstances beyond our control deter us from putting adequate time and energy into a class or a particular assignment. Church responsibilities, illness, family problems, or unusual situations can cause us to have additional need to call upon the Holy Ghost’s assistance. One such incident is recounted by Steven D. Bennion, now president of Ricks College. He had been serving as a bishop, completing classes for his PhD, and working fulltime to support his family of seven. He needed to finish his doctoral dissertation and defend it, but it was taking much more time than he had expected. He had to do a crash program to finish. With only two days left, he ran up against a wall. I quote:

The first day was an exercise in frustration. I struggled at length through that day and produced only 4 pages. By 9 o’clock that evening, I was discouraged and desperate: I had only two nights and a day left to compose a compelling concluding chapter. I decided to get a good night’s rest the first night, leaving myself only a day and a night to complete the chapter. I remember offering special prayers both that evening and the next morning. I pleaded my need to the Lord, reminding him of my good wife and family and their faithful support while I worked on the dissertation and served as bishop. I acknowledged gratitude for opportunities and then asked for special spiritual help to quicken my mind and spirit for the monumental challenge of completing the final chapter in a single day.
I arose the next morning at 4:30 and began to write. The words flowed as I had never before experienced. The next 42 pages came far more easily than the first 4 had the day before.

As Brother Bennion’s wife helped him review those final pages, another miracle happened. His wife found many corrections in the first four pages, but, to their “mutual amazement, she did not suggest one change in the final 42 pages” (Steven D. Bennion, “Human Life Divided by Reason Leaves a Remainder,” in Expressions of Faith, 50).

On the night of March 24, 1832, a dozen men stormed the Hiram, Ohio, home where Joseph and Emma Smith were staying. Both were physically and emotionally spent, not only from all the travails of the young Church at the time but also because on this particular evening they had been up caring for their two adopted twins, born eleven months earlier on the same day that Emma had given birth to—and then lost—their own twins. Emma had gone to bed first while Joseph stayed up with the children; then she had arisen to take her turn, encouraging her husband to get some sleep. No sooner had he begun to doze than he heard his wife give a terrifying scream and found himself being torn from the house and very nearly being torn limb from limb.
Cursing as they went, the mob that had seized him were swearing to kill Joseph if he resisted. One man grabbed him by the throat until he lost consciousness from lack of breath. He came to only to overhear part of their conversation on whether he should be murdered. It was determined that for now he would simply be stripped naked, beaten senseless, tarred and feathered, and left to fend for himself in the bitter March night. Stripped of his clothing, fighting off fists and tar paddles on every side, and resisting a vial of some liquid—perhaps poison—which he shattered with his teeth as it was forced into his mouth, he miraculously managed to fight off the entire mob and eventually made his way back to the house. In the dim light his wife thought the tar stains covering his body were blood stains, and she fainted at the sight.
Friends spent the entire night scraping and removing the tar and applying liniments to his scratched and battered body. I now quote directly from the Prophet Joseph’s record:
By morning I was ready to be clothed again. This being the Sabbath morning, the people assembled for meeting at the usual hour of worship, and among them came also the mobbers [of the night before. Then he names them.] With my flesh all scarified and defaced, I preached to the congregation as usual, and in the afternoon of the same day baptized three individuals. [HC 1:264]
Unfortunately, one of the adopted twins, growing worse from the exposure and turmoil of the night, died the following Friday. “With my flesh all scarified and defaced, I preached to the congregation as usual”!

“Tomorrow is Sunday,” I told my five-year-old daughter as she snuggled on my lap. A smile spread over her face.
“Oh, goody,” she said. “Then I get to see Brother Jay.”
Gratitude filled my heart. How thankful I felt for a loving, caring Primary teacher who had eased our transition to a new ward following a move. Leaving our home in the U.S. Midwest and relocating 1,350 miles (2,173 km) away had been traumatic for the whole family but especially for our preschooler, Season. Shy by nature, she feared new situations and was apprehensive about attending church our first week in a new ward.
Brother Jay, a gentle, dedicated man, blended just the right touch of humor and affection to win Season’s trust. On that first Sunday he crouched down, took hold of her hand, looked into her eyes, and said, “C’mon, sweetheart. You’ll have fun in our class.”
As the weeks passed, Season looked forward to Sunday more than any other day of the week. As soon as we arrived at church, she scanned the congregation for her teacher. He would smile in greeting.
Throughout the years Brother Jay remembered each student with little gifts for holidays and birthdays. When Season’s birthday approached, the most important guest she wanted to invite to her party was Brother Jay.
Could he have any idea how influential he had become in our little girl’s life? Would he ever guess how much his words and actions were internalized by his group of five-year-old Primary students? Could he possibly know how much it meant to me, as a mother, to have him be part of my daughter’s life?
Later, Season advanced to Brother Edward’s class, and her wonderful Primary experience continued. How thankful I am for all the conscientious, well-prepared, humble men and women who had a positive spiritual influence on Season’s life.

In 1816 the family moved again, this time to Palmyra, New York. Joseph’s father had gone ahead to find a place for them to live. When Joseph’s mother and the eight children went to join him, they hired a man named Caleb Howard to drive the wagon with their things. Ten-year-old Joseph had not fully recovered from his leg operation yet, making it painful for him to walk. But Mr. Howard still made him walk miles at a time.

At Utica, New York, still many miles from Palmyra, Mr. Howard unloaded the Smith’s household goods and was about to leave with the wagon and horses. Joseph’s mother demanded that he leave them, then reloaded the wagon and drove the rest of the way herself.

A sister in Sandy, Utah, tells of a time her son, his wife, and their two-year-old daughter stayed in her home. “Every evening before their little girl’s bedtime,” she recalls, “all three would disappear into their bedroom. One evening during their absence, they received a phone call. I went to their room and quietly opened the door. There on the bed were the three of them, each with a Book of Mormon. Mom and Dad would take turns reading and then talking to their two-year-old about what they had just read. The warm, sweet spirit that filled the room is difficult to put into words. By their example as parents, they were teaching their little daughter to feast on the words of Christ. I quietly closed the door and thanked my Heavenly Father for allowing me to have a peek at a bit of heaven on earth.”

“Dad was a hard worker in his business and in the Church. He tried to make his time at home with the children quality time, and he was a very good teacher. His method of teaching was to thoroughly explain something to us and then to have us do it, sink or swim. He used to say that he didn’t want to put an old head on young shoulders but that he wanted us to learn as quickly as we could.
“I remember once when Dad had my brother and me help him build a corral. After we had measured where the postholes would be, Dad suggested that we have a posthole-digging contest the next morning and that he would challenge us both. He would start digging in one direction, and we would start digging in the opposite direction. Whoever dug the most postholes would win.
“Unbeknownst to us, Dad slipped out that night, and at each place where he was going to dig the next day, he soaked the ground with water. The next morning Dad easily shoveled the dirt and rocks out of his holes while we struggled with digging bar, pick, and shovels. The lesson we learned was that there is often a better way to accomplish a task if you think about it carefully.

Last October when my teachers quorum was learning about becoming more Christlike, we served some families in our ward. During the Duty to God lesson that month,* we talked about the many examples of service in Christ’s life. We also read Doctrine and Covenants 20:53, which says that one of a teacher’s priesthood responsibilities is to watch over and strengthen the Church. Together, we thought of some ways we could do this through service.
For example, as a quorum we mowed our bishop’s lawn. We also visited an elderly man in our ward, which was fun because he told us stories about his life and shared some lessons he’d learned. Both of these experiences made me feel great. As a quorum, we also completed the “Serve Others” section in the Fulfilling My Duty to God booklet. I felt like an instrument in Heavenly Father’s hands, and I felt like I was coming closer to Heavenly Father as we served.

Auckland, New Zealand, seminary students decided to develop their “talents” and lend a helping hand to others at the same time.

Following the principle in the parable of the talents (Matt. 25:14–30), each student was given $1 and one month in which to invest in any undertaking.

One motivation factor was a previous “Project Concern” activity that involved youths in picking tomatoes and netted a profit of $186. This money was sent to the Philippines to purchase library books for Church students.

After discussing suitable investments for their “talents,” students were each given $1 to invest. A special newsletter was also sent out informing others about “Project Talents.” The students voted that all money earned should be sent to the Church to be used in Mexico or South America.

What can one person do with $1 and one month?

One student bought wool and knitted a poncho. This was sold and the money used to purchase enough wool for two more ponchos that were also sold. The net profit was $8.

Another bought several flashlights from a teacher who works as a sales representative and sold them to ward members at a profit since the country was going through a power shortage and power cuts were threatening. Candles were also sold, and, together with the flashlights, resulted in a $15 profit.

Cakes were sold, babysitting services established, car washes organized, lawn mowing operations set up, and a mini-restaurant made its debut. All proved successful. All together the students made a 137 percent profit from the $165 investment. One interesting factor was that the few losses that occurred were the result of cooperative efforts rather than individuals’ projects.

Caleb waved goodbye to Mom. He and his brother and sister were going to spend a whole week at his aunt’s house. It wasn’t too far from where Caleb’s family lived in the Philippines, but it still felt like an adventure. They were going to have so much fun!
They all got in the car. Dad drove them to their aunt’s house. Caleb ran to give his aunt and his cousin a big hug.
“I missed you!” he said.
His aunt smiled. “I’ve missed you too! Come on, I made some treats for you.”
For two days, Caleb played with his siblings and cousin all day long. They played video games. They drew pictures. They ran outside. But on the third day, Caleb didn’t feel well. His body felt weak and achy.
“You must be tired from playing so much,” his aunt said. She gave him a glass of water. Caleb went to bed early.
When he woke up, he felt even worse. He could hardly move! A rash had spread all over his legs. His aunt was worried. She called Mom.
Soon Mom and Dad picked Caleb up and took him to the hospital. The doctor did some tests. He told them that Caleb had a sickness called dengue fever. It sounded scary.
“It’s good that you brought him in,” the doctor said. “He needs to stay here for a while so we can watch him.”
A nurse took them to a room with three other sick children. Mom helped Caleb get into his bed. She hugged him tightly and said a prayer. Then Mom and Dad left.
Caleb was scared. He began to sing a Primary song to help him feel better.
“Heavenly Father, are you really there?” he sang. “And do you hear and answer every child’s prayer?”
The other children listened. “What was that song?” a boy asked.
“I learned it in Primary,” Caleb said. “It makes me feel brave. It reminds me that Heavenly Father is always there for me.”
“Will you please sing it again?” a girl asked. “It’s beautiful.”
As Caleb sang the song again, his fears went away.
“What’s Primary?” asked the other girl. Caleb told them all about church and Primary. He shared his testimony of Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.
Caleb sang Primary songs to the other kids every day until he went home. He also shared scripture stories. It made him feel better, and he knew it helped them too. He was glad he could share the gospel, even in the hospital.
This story took place in the Philippines.

When I was a student at Brigham Young University, I lived in a house with several young men. My roommate, Bruce, was the most optimistic person I have ever known. We never once heard him say anything negative about any person or any circumstance, and it was impossible not to feel buoyed up in his presence. His good cheer flowed from an abiding trust in the Savior and in His gospel.

One cold, wintry day, another friend of mine, Tom, was walking across the university campus. It was only 7:00 in the morning, and the campus was deserted and dark. Heavy snow was falling, with a brisk wind. “What miserable weather,” Tom thought. He walked farther, and out in the darkness and snow, he heard someone singing.

Sure enough, through the driving snow came our ever-optimistic friend, Bruce. With his arms outstretched to the sky, he was singing a number from the Broadway musical Oklahoma: “Oh, what a beautiful morning! Oh, what a beautiful day! I’ve got a beautiful feeling, everything’s going my way” (see Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II, “Oh, What a Beautiful Mornin’” [1943]).

In the intervening years, that bright voice in a dark storm has become for me a symbol of what faith and hope are all about. Even in a darkening world, we as Latter-day Saints may sing with joy, knowing that the powers of heaven are with God’s Church and people. We may rejoice in the knowledge that a beautiful morning lies ahead—the dawn of the millennial day, when the Son of God shall rise in the East and reign again on the earth.

Today, let me share a discovery that happened because of a sample group of rabbits.
In the 1970s, researchers set up an experiment to examine the effects of diet on heart health. Over several months, they fed a control group of rabbits a high-fat diet and monitored their blood pressure, heart rate, and cholesterol.
As expected, many of the rabbits showed a buildup of fatty deposits on the inside of their arteries. Yet this was not all! Researchers had discovered something that made little sense. Although all of the rabbits had a buildup, one group surprisingly had as much as 60 percent less than the others. It appeared as though they were looking at two different groups of rabbits.
To scientists, results like this can cause lost sleep. How could this be? The rabbits were all the same breed from New Zealand, from a virtually identical gene pool. They each received equal amounts of the same food.
What could this mean?
Did the results invalidate the study? Were there flaws in the experiment design?
The scientists struggled to understand this unexpected outcome!
Eventually, they turned their attention to the research staff. Was it possible that researchers had done something to influence the results? As they pursued this, they discovered that every rabbit with fewer fatty deposits had been under the care of one researcher. She fed the rabbits the same food as everyone else. But, as one scientist reported, “she was an unusually kind and caring individual.” When she fed the rabbits, “she talked to them, cuddled and petted them. … ‘She couldn’t help it. It’s just how she was.’”
She did more than simply give the rabbits food. She gave them love!
At first glance, it seemed unlikely that this could be the reason for the dramatic difference, but the research team could see no other possibility.
So they repeated the experiment—this time tightly controlling for every other variable. When they analyzed the results, the same thing happened! The rabbits under the care of the loving researcher had significantly higher health outcomes.
The scientists published the results of this study in the prestigious journal Science.
Years later the findings of this experiment still seem influential in the medical community. In recent years, Dr. Kelli Harding published a book titled The Rabbit Effect that takes its name from the experiment. Her conclusion: “Take a rabbit with an unhealthy lifestyle. Talk to it. Hold it. Give it affection. … The relationship made a difference. … Ultimately,” she concludes, “what affects our health in the most meaningful ways has as much to do with how we treat one another, how we live, and how we think about what it means to be human.”

In October 2020, President Nelson said, “Anytime we do anything that helps anyone—on either side of the veil—to make and keep their covenants with God, we are helping to gather Israel.”1
This message from our prophet came to my heart with so much power, and our family wanted to fill this purpose.
A few days before general conference, my youngest son, Tomas, had his dental evaluation for his mission papers. After some delays, he received his call to serve in the England Leeds Mission.
On Sunday 18 March 2021, he gave his farewell speech. He focused his message on loving the Lord and our neighbours, and how important this is in missionary work. Because of some COVID-19 restrictions, it was only Elder Tomas Flores, Daniel (my other son, who has Down syndrome), and me on the stand with the bishopric. My husband and my daughter stayed with the congregation.
Before Elder Tomas Flores started his talk, I told him that Daniel was probably going to follow him—and he did. He stood up behind Tomas. It was like Daniel was his guardian angel. In that moment, I had the feeling that Daniel also needed to serve a mission. After church, I shared my feeling with my husband, and he had had the exact feeling at the same time.
On 23 March 2022, Elder Daniel Flores was set apart to be a service missionary in the Leeds England, Manchester, and Scotland/Ireland missions. He loves to be a missionary. Although he is mostly nonverbal, we communicate with our eyes. He is always willing to help everyone. Most of his service is within service projects in the ward, but he also serves taking pictures for BillionGraves. Our whole family is having a spiritual time with him during this.
Elder Flores really loves to serve others, and he loves Jesus Christ.
Both brothers are serving the Lord at the same time, in different missions, but with the same purpose: to bring people to Christ by serving as the Saviour would.

My grandfather Francisco Lara told our family the fable of the Oak tree and the Almond tree.
There was once two young trees planted by a poor farmer to whom the trees
had been given. One tree was an oak the other was an almond. These trees grew on the edge of the Sonora desert and as the trees grew it became apparent that water was scarce on this farmland.
Twice a week the farmer would come down with his two buckets of water and water his trees. The Almond tree would beg and plead with the Oak tree to let him have his portion of water also because he was so thirsty. The Oak tree agreed because he loved the little Almond tree very much.
So while the roots of the Almond tree stretched out to soak up all the water the roots of the Oak went deeper into the earth searching for every drop of water it could find.
Both trees grew up very nicely; the Almond tree with his wonderful blossoms and sweet nuts and the Oak tree became very majestic.
One day a great wind began to blow in from the south and blew harder all during the day. It started to strip the leaves from the trees and snap off the small branches of the trees. The Almond tree panicked and cried out to the Oak tree as the wind blew stronger into the night. The Almond tree cried out during the night to the great Oak tree for help and the Oak tree encouraged the little Almond tree to persevere and lean into the wind.
When the daybreak came the Oak tree could see off in the horizon that the farmer's house was missing a roof and the chicken coop was blown away. He watched the old farmer make his way down to the trees. The Almond tree was blown over dead, its shallow roots thrust up into the air. The farmer and the Oak tree wept. The farmer came up to the Oak tree and patted its bark and called him "fuerte, grande y fuerte." Large and strong. And while the great Oak tree was saddened, he was thankful because of the lack of water that his roots had run deep into the earth, anchoring him against the storm of tribulation.

Sustaining him in the many challenges of life, including a long series of life-threatening illnesses, was the inner strength he received in his devotion to Church callings. Even as a boy, he felt an urgency to be about his Father’s business. While tromping hay for his older brothers one hot summer afternoon, he heard the bell for Primary ringing about a mile away. Ignoring his brothers’ insistence that he miss Primary and stay with his job atop the hay, young Spencer slipped off the wagon, unseen by his brothers, and was nearly to the meetinghouse before they discovered his absence.

The mission president in Sweden at the time of our visit was Reid H. Johnson, a cousin to my wife. As he and our group were journeying throughout that area, we went to a large Lutheran church. As we walked into the building, President Johnson said, “I think you would be interested in an experience my companion, Richard Timpson, and I had in this city at the termination of our missions back in 1948.”

He said, “We came to this town because we knew that our family history was recorded here and had been lived here. As we entered this large church, we were met by a most hostile keeper of the archives. Upon hearing that we had completed our missions and had a few precious days in which we would like to seek out the records which he maintained in his church building, he said that no one had ever been given the opportunity to peruse those valuable records, far less a Mormon. He declared they were under lock and key, and he held up to view the large key to the vault in which the records were stored. He said, ‘My job and my future, and the sustenance of my family, depend upon how well I safeguard this key. No, I am afraid it would be impossible for you to peruse these records. But if you would like to see the church, I’ll be happy to show you through. I’ll be glad to show you the architecture and the cemetery which surrounds the church—but not the records, for they are sacred.’”

President Johnson indicated they were profoundly disappointed. However, he said to the keeper of the archives, “We will accept your kind offer.” All of this time, he and his companion were praying fervently and earnestly that somehow something would change this keeper’s mind, that he would let them view the records.

After a lengthy journey through the cemetery and looking at the church building, the keeper of the archives unexpectedly said to them, “I’m going to do something I have never done before. It may cost me my job, but I’m going to let you borrow this key for fifteen minutes.”

President Johnson thought, Fifteen minutes! All we can do in fifteen minutes is open the lock!

But the keeper let them take the key. They turned the key in the lock and had made available to their view records which were priceless for their genealogical value. In fifteen minutes the keeper arrived. He looked at them and found they were still in a state of wonder over the find which they had discovered.

They said, “Can’t we please stay longer?”

He said, “How much longer?” And he looked at his watch.

They said, “About three days.”

He said, “I’ve never done anything like this before. I don’t know why, but I feel I can trust you. Here is the key. You keep it, and when you are through, you return it to me. I’ll be here every morning at eight o’clock and every evening at five o’clock.”

For three consecutive days, those two missionaries studied and recorded for our current use information which could have been obtained in no other way. President Johnson, filled with emotion, explained this experience to us. He said, “The Lord does move in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform.” As he made this statement of testimony to me, I realized that his experience had also blessed the lives of Sister Monson and me, for much of the information he and his companion had obtained happened to be on our family lines.

A few weeks after Michelle and John started their mission, a rocket carrying the Mars rover took off. Michelle didn’t get to watch it. She was doing other important things. She shared the gospel and helped the missionaries in their mission. Every day, she wore a black name tag that said “Sister Amos,” with the Savior’s name underneath.
After seven months, the rocket carrying the rover finally reached Mars—more than 100 million miles (160 million km) away. Sister Amos got permission to watch the landing online. She invited their missionaries to watch too.
Sister Amos was nervous. She and many others had worked so hard on this project! Would the rover land safely?
It did! All the missionaries cheered. Then Sister Amos shared her testimony. “Jesus Christ created worlds without end,” she said. “He made the stars, the planets, and the whole universe. He wants us to learn, grow, and use our talents for good.”
She smiled. She was grateful for the ways God led her during her life. And she was grateful to be a missionary—sharing His amazing love.

It’s worth doing, not only because you have life ahead but because you have eternity ahead, as well. Here is one report that suggests your reward for investing your inheritance well here will be to get to do it forever. President Wilford Woodruff gave this report in general conference in 1896.
“Joseph Smith continued visiting myself and others up to a certain time, and then it stopped. The last time I saw him was in heaven. In the night vision I saw him at the door of the temple in heaven. He came to me and spoke to me. He said he could not stop to talk with me because he was in a hurry. The next man I met was Father Smith; he could not talk with me because he was in a hurry. I met half a dozen brethren who had held high positions on earth, and none of them could stop to talk with me because they were in a hurry. I was much astonished. By and by I saw the Prophet again and I got the privilege of asking him a question.
“‘Now,’ said I, ‘I want to know why you are in a hurry? I have been in a hurry all my life; but I expected my hurry would be over when I got into the kingdom of heaven, if I ever did.’
“Joseph said: ‘I will tell you, Brother Woodruff. Every dispensation that has had the priesthood on the earth and has gone into the celestial kingdom has had a certain amount of work to do to prepare to go to the earth with the Savior when he goes to reign on the earth. Each dispensation has had ample time to do this work. We have not. We are the last dispensation, and so much work has to be done, and we need to be in a hurry in order to accomplish it.’
“Of course, that was satisfactory, but it was new doctrine to me” (Discourses of Wilford Woodruff, sel. G. Homer Durham, Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1946, pp. 288–89).

Gary*—a young, single man—was feeling out of place in his ward, which consisted mostly of families. He was unemployed and without a car when Mike* became his home teacher. “Looking back, I don’t remember Mike ever giving me a formal lesson,” Gary says. “Instead, he would pick me up each Sunday, and since Mike was on the high council, he would take me along on his speaking assignments. With six children, Mike didn’t have much time, but he always had time for me. Often our visits in the car would extend long after each meeting as we exchanged the highs and the lows of the past week.
“When I did get a car, Mike still gave me rides because we enjoyed our long talks,” continues Gary. “One weekend he took me with his family to a college football game. Another weekend we worked together putting in his mailbox. Although Mike has since moved, we still keep in touch. We are truly eternal friends.”

I have just returned from a visit where I welcomed into the world our newest little granddaughter, Elizabeth Claire Sandberg. She is perfect! I was awestruck, as I am each time a baby is born, with her fingers, toes, hair, beating heart, and her distinctive family characteristics—nose, chin, dimples. Her older brothers and sister were equally excited and fascinated by their tiny, perfect little sister. They seemed to sense a holiness in their home from the presence of a celestial spirit newly united with a pure physical body.
In the premortal realm we learned that the body was part of God’s great plan of happiness for us. As it states in the family proclamation: “Spirit sons and daughters knew and worshiped God as their Eternal Father and accepted His plan by which His children could obtain a physical body and gain earthly experience to progress toward perfection and ultimately realize his or her divine destiny as an heir of eternal life” (“The Family: A Proclamation to the World,” Liahona, Oct. 2004, 49; Ensign, Nov. 1995, 102). In fact, we “shouted for joy” (Job 38:7) to be part of this plan.
Why were we so excited? We understood eternal truths about our bodies. We knew that our bodies would be in the image of God. We knew that our bodies would house our spirits. We also understood that our bodies would be subject to pain, illness, disabilities, and temptation. But we were willing, even eager, to accept these challenges because we knew that only with spirit and element inseparably connected could we progress to become like our Heavenly Father (see D&C 130:22) and “receive a fulness of joy” (D&C 93:33).
With the fulness of the gospel on the earth, we are again privileged to know these truths about the body. Joseph Smith taught: “We came to this earth that we might have a body and present it pure before God in the Celestial Kingdom. The great principle of happiness consists in having a body. The Devil has no body, and herein is his punishment” (The Words of Joseph Smith, ed. Andrew F. Ehat and Lyndon W. Cook [1980], 60).
Satan learned these same eternal truths about the body, and yet his punishment is that he does not have one. Therefore he tries to do everything he can to get us to abuse or misuse this precious gift. He has filled the world with lies and deceptions about the body. He tempts many to defile this great gift of the body through unchastity, immodesty, self-indulgence, and addictions. He seduces some to despise their bodies; others he tempts to worship their bodies. In either case, he entices the world to regard the body merely as an object. In the face of so many satanic falsehoods about the body, I want to raise my voice today in support of the sanctity of the body. I testify that the body is a gift to be treated with gratitude and respect.
The scriptures declare that the body is a temple. It was Jesus Himself who first compared His body to a temple (see John 2:21). Later Paul admonished the people of Corinth, a wicked city teeming with all manner of lasciviousness and indecency: “Know ye not that ye are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you? If any man defile the temple of God, him shall God destroy; for the temple of God is holy, which temple ye are” (1 Cor. 3:16–17).
What would happen if we truly treated our bodies as temples? The result would be a dramatic increase in chastity, modesty, observance of the Word of Wisdom, and a similar decrease in the problems of pornography and abuse, for we would regard the body, like the temple, as a sacred sanctuary of the Spirit. Just as no unclean thing may enter the temple, we would be vigilant to keep impurity of any sort from entering the temple of our bodies.
Likewise, we would keep the outside of our bodily temples looking clean and beautiful to reflect the sacred and holy nature of what is inside, just as the Church does with its temples. We should dress and act in ways that reflect the sacred spirit inside us.
A short while ago as I visited one of the great tourist-filled cities of the world, I felt an overwhelming sadness that so many people in the world had fallen prey to Satan’s deception that our bodies are merely objects to be flaunted and displayed openly. Imagine the contrast and my joy when I entered a classroom of modestly and appropriately dressed young women whose countenances glowed with goodness. I thought, “Here are eight beautiful girls who know how to show respect for their bodies and who know why they are doing it.” In For the Strength of Youth it says: “Your body is God’s sacred creation. Respect it as a gift from God, and do not defile it in any way. Through your dress and appearance, you can show the Lord that you know how precious your body is. … The way you dress is a reflection of what you are on the inside” ([2001], 14–15).
Modesty is more than a matter of avoiding revealing attire. It describes not only the altitude of hemlines and necklines but the attitude of our hearts. The word modesty means “measured.” It is related to moderate. It implies “decency, and propriety … in thought, language, dress, and behavior” (in Daniel H. Ludlow, ed., Encyclopedia of Mormonism, 5 vols. [1992], 2:932).
Moderation and appropriateness should govern all of our physical desires. A loving Heavenly Father has given us physical beauties and pleasures “both to please the eye and to gladden the heart” (D&C 59:18), but with this caution: that they are “made to be used, with judgment, not to excess, neither by extortion” (D&C 59:20). My husband used this scripture to teach our children about the law of chastity. He said that the “word extortion … literally means to ‘twist out [or against].’ Our use of … the body must not be twisted [against] the divinely ordained purposes for which [it was] given. Physical pleasure is good in its proper time and place, but even then it must not become our god” (John S. Tanner, “The Body as a Blessing,” Ensign, July 1993, 10).
The pleasures of the body can become an obsession for some; so too can the attention we give to our outward appearance. Sometimes there is a selfish excess of exercising, dieting, makeovers, and spending money on the latest fashions (see Alma 1:27).
I am troubled by the practice of extreme makeovers. Happiness comes from accepting the bodies we have been given as divine gifts and enhancing our natural attributes, not from remaking our bodies after the image of the world. The Lord wants us to be made over—but in His image, not in the image of the world, by receiving His image in our countenances (see Alma 5:14, 19).
I remember well the insecurities I felt as a teenager with a bad case of acne. I tried to care for my skin properly. My parents helped me get medical attention. For years I even went without eating chocolate and all the greasy fast foods around which teens often socialize, but with no obvious healing consequences. It was difficult for me at that time to fully appreciate this body which was giving me so much grief. But my good mother taught me a higher law. Over and over she said to me, “You must do everything you can to make your appearance pleasing, but the minute you walk out the door, forget yourself and start concentrating on others.”
There it was. She was teaching me the Christlike principle of selflessness. Charity, or the pure love of Christ, “envieth not, and is not puffed up, seeketh not her own” (Moro. 7:45). When we become other-oriented, or selfless, we develop an inner beauty of spirit that glows in our outward appearance. This is how we make ourselves in the Lord’s image rather than the world’s and receive His image in our countenances. President Hinckley spoke of this very kind of beauty that comes as we learn to respect body, mind, and spirit. He said:
“Of all the creations of the Almighty, there is none more beautiful, none more inspiring than a lovely daughter of God who walks in virtue with an understanding of why she should do so, who honors and respects her body as a thing sacred and divine, who cultivates her mind and constantly enlarges the horizon of her understanding, who nurtures her spirit with everlasting truth” (“Understanding Our Divine Nature,” Liahona, Feb. 2002, 24; “Our Responsibility to Our Young Women,” Ensign, Sept. 1988, 11).
Oh, how I pray that all men and women will seek the beauty praised by the prophet—beauty of body, mind, and spirit!
The restored gospel teaches that there is an intimate link between body, mind, and spirit. In the Word of Wisdom, for example, the spiritual and physical are intertwined. When we follow the Lord’s law of health for our bodies, we are also promised wisdom to our spirits and knowledge to our minds (see D&C 89:19–21). The spiritual and physical truly are linked.
I remember an incident in my home growing up when my mother’s sensitive spirit was affected by a physical indulgence. She had experimented with a new sweet roll recipe. They were big and rich and yummy—and very filling. Even my teenage brothers couldn’t eat more than one. That night at family prayer my father called upon Mom to pray. She buried her head and didn’t respond. He gently prodded her, “Is something wrong?” Finally she said, “I don’t feel very spiritual tonight. I just ate three of those rich sweet rolls.” I suppose that many of us have similarly offended our spirits at times by physical indulgences. Especially substances forbidden in the Word of Wisdom have a harmful effect on our bodies and a numbing influence on our spiritual sensitivities. None of us can ignore this connection of our spirits and bodies.
These sacred bodies, for which we are so grateful, suffer from natural limitations. Some people are born with disabilities, and some suffer the pains of disease throughout their lives. All of us as we age experience our bodies gradually beginning to fail. When this happens, we long for the day when our bodies will be healed and whole. We look forward to the Resurrection that Jesus Christ made possible, when “the soul shall be restored to the body, and the body to the soul; yea, and every limb and joint shall be restored to its body; yea, even a hair of the head shall not be lost; but all things shall be restored to their proper and perfect frame” (Alma 40:23). I know that through Christ we can experience a fulness of joy that is available only when spirit and element are inseparably connected (see D&C 93:33).
Our bodies are our temples. We are not less but more like Heavenly Father because we are embodied. I testify that we are His children, made in His image, with the potential to become like Him. Let us treat this divine gift of the body with great care. Someday, if we are worthy, we shall receive a perfected, glorious body—pure and clean like my new little granddaughter, only inseparably bound to the spirit. And we shall shout for joy (see Job 38:7) to receive this gift again for which we have longed (see D&C 138:50). May we respect the sanctity of the body during mortality so that the Lord may sanctify and exalt it for eternity. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Many of you are doing remarkable things. Megan, a young woman, prayed many months for two friends who were not members of the Church, arranging for one friend to sign up for seminary and inviting the other to be taught by the missionaries. Recently these two young women were baptized. The Church needs you. President Hinckley cannot walk down the halls of your school and teach your friends, but you can, and the Lord is counting on you. We’re so proud of the courage you have as you share your love for the gospel with your friends.