Gospel Story Finder

Several years ago my daughter Jenny lost a very special ring in the grass of our backyard. We searched diligently, but it seemed hopeless. We had been playing a ball game and didn’t know exactly where she lost it. It was important to her, so we prayed for help to find this ring. We continued to search and just before giving up, I kneeled down and ran my fingers through the grass. I could not believe it; the ring slipped over one of my fingers. It seemed impossible, but there it was. How can we deny a Father who rules the universe, yet still cares about the small, important things of our lives? It’s true that not every prayer is answered immediately and sometimes the answers aren’t what we hope for, but isn’t it nice to know that the object of our faith and trust is a God who loves us and who knows our needs and concerns.

“Are you a Christian?” It was a headline for an advertisement soliciting community service volunteers, and it attracted Roger Freeman’s attention. Brother Freeman is a faithful member of the Church—a Sunday School teacher, home teacher, and father of nine. Surely no one could accuse him of not serving his fellow man in a Christian way. Still, the question concerned him.
Brother Freeman contacted the community service agency that had placed the advertisement and asked how he could help. The agency gave him the names of several elderly people who needed someone to do various tasks around their homes.
Since that day several years ago, Brother Freeman has mowed lawns, repaired furniture, cleaned yards, and done odd jobs in many of the older sections of his city—often taking along a few of his children to help. Every few months, he calls the agency for more names. Sometimes he has cried, seeing people who are so poor and so lonely. Occasionally, he can befriend a person he serves and maintain some personal contact. He wishes he could do more.
Where does he find the time to reach beyond his circle of family and Church associations? “It doesn’t take much time,” says Brother Freeman. And what motivates him? He explains, “It’s mostly a matter of reaching beyond my own needs. Sometimes I think of the Savior walking down the dusty roads he traveled. He was aware of people’s needs.”
Serving those around us is not merely something added to the gospel. In fact, the Lord equates serving each other with serving Him. (See Mosiah 2:17.) Brother Lowell Bennion, who runs the community service agency in Salt Lake City that Brother Freeman called, feels that Saints should go to church not to be satisfied, but to “be motivated to go out and serve our neighbors in need.”

The woodland was under a heavy shroud of cloud cover that weekend. Rain filtered through the air, and the cameramen waited patiently to expose their film. It rained, and they prayed. And it rained some more. If the filmmakers were unable to complete filming in that one week during the spring of 1975, the project would have to wait a year until the surroundings were right again. The season would soon change, and to add to the problems, the lead actor had to leave the following Friday. On Monday morning the crew awoke before dawn and and began to set up all their equipment, thinking somehow they could compensate for the weather. But suddenly it stopped raining. When the sun came up, they beheld the loveliest mist they had ever seen. The tall, wet grasses sparkled, and the birds burst forth in song, and they knew they had been blessed with a beauty they could never have produced themselves.
That morning the Brigham Young University Department of Film Production began filming scenes for the First Vision. Stewart Petersen, who played the Prophet Joseph, walked through those tall grasses with thoughts of that other “beautiful, clear day, early in the spring of eighteen hundred and twenty” (JS—H 1:14) when Joseph Smith humbly prayed for an answer to his question, “Which of all the churches should I join?”
The First Vision is a historical film commissioned by the Church for release as a teaching aid and missionary tool. The script follows Joseph Smith’s own account of the spring of 1820 in Palmyra, New York, when, after reading and pondering James 1:5, he decided to ask of God which church was true.
The singular beauty of that first morning was followed by a week of busy filming. By Thursday renewed bad weather set in—more clouds and more rain. By the end of the day there was still one important scene that needed to be put on film—and that scene had to be filmed in bright sunlight. It was the scene where Joseph runs toward his home on a bright sunny day. So Friday morning they set up an 18-foot scaffold for their cameras in the center of the field that lay between the grove and Joseph’s home. They offered another special prayer and waited. After what seemed like hours the clouds parted. The cameras rolled. Just before the scene ended, the clouds closed in again, and darkness prevailed. “That’s all we got,” said David Jacobs, producer-director, “but that was all we needed—it’s the scene that opens the film.”
In Joseph’s own account of the First Vision he tells of entering the grove and kneeling to supplicate the Lord. Suddenly he felt a literal darkness—“some power which entirely overcame me … the power of some actual being from the unseen world.” (JS—H 1:15–16.) How to handle the feeling of such an evil influence was hard to conceptualize and then transfer onto the film. On the plane to New York the week before, David Jacobs had been studying some research material on a recently discovered account of the vision written by Joseph.
A couple of sentences jumped out at him as he read: Joseph said, “I heard a noise behind me like someone walking toward me. I strove again to pray, but could not; the noise of walking seemed to draw nearer. I sprang upon my feet and looked around, but saw no person or thing that was calculated to produce the noise of walking.” (As quoted in Dean Jesse, “Early Accounts of the First Vision,” BYU Studies, Spring 1969, p. 284.) “I knew instantly,” Dave said, “that this was how I wanted to get into the darkness scene. It was dramatic. It was true.”

In the first decade of the organization of the Church in this dispensation, many conditions and circumstances and even the geographical locations of the main bodies of the Church changed rapidly. What did not seem to change, however, was that the message of the Restoration was not uniformly received with affection and appreciation. This was especially true for the representatives and advocates of the then newly emerging Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. In fact, it was often not only risky to one’s popularity but even to one’s mortal existence to be too closely identified with the Latter-day Saints.

Most of you are familiar with the general details of the history of the Church in those first few years. After relocating from New York and Pennsylvania to Kirtland, very soon many of the Saints and leaders of the Church were drawn to Missouri with the potentially great blessings the Lord had promised to his Saints, predicated on their faithfulness, in that part of the land.

It was there, in the emerging community of Far West, Missouri, that a very important and instructive revelation was received by the Prophet Joseph Smith on July 8, 1838. In that remarkable communication from the Lord, among other instructions, were given very precise directions related to the beginning and unfolding of international missionary work. Almost unique among the published revelations given through the Prophet Joseph was that the Lord specifically instructed his servants as to not only their missionary labors “over the great waters,” but also as to the exact time and place from which they should take their leave (see D&C 118).

At the time the revelation was received in July 1838, although the Saints were having difficulties with their neighbors in Missouri, I suppose most of the leaders and members did not appreciate how difficult fulfillment of this revelation, with its attendant specific prophecies, would finally be. In the ensuing months, after the revelation was received, conditions became even more difficult. Persecution increased, and the Prophet Joseph, together with several companions, was incarcerated in Liberty Jail while the body of the Church was physically expelled from Missouri by an edict of the governor.

Interestingly, this revelation outlining the departure of the Twelve Apostles as the first missionaries to Great Britain from the temple site at Far West, Missouri, on April 26, 1839, was not only well known to the leaders of the Church and to most of the members generally, but also to the opponents and detractors of the Church, several being apostates or dissidents.

The attitudes of those involved or observing these events were interesting and could be divided principally into three groups. The first group included those who actively opposed the Prophet Joseph, the Church, and the mission of the Restoration. These were those who recognized that this revelation (D&C 118) was unusual with respect to the specific prophecies related to the time and place of certain events. They felt strongly that if they could prevent these events from taking place, the Prophet, the Church, and the work of the Restoration would be discredited. They spoke vigorously and organized aggressively to prevent the remaining members of the Quorum of the Twelve, and other key leaders who were not in prison, from returning to the temple site in Far West and doing their parts in fulfilling the prophecy that had been declared by the Lord through the Prophet Joseph.

The second group may have, in fact, been the largest. These were those who were interested in the revelation for various reasons but considered themselves to be only bystanders. There is evidence to suggest that even some of the basically faithful leaders and members of the Church felt that though the revelation and prophecies had been given with specificity, because conditions had changed the Lord would excuse his servants from attempting to fulfill them, and the mandate to accomplish the important work that had been previously prescribed by the Lord was no longer operative, as was the case in some other instances in Church history.

The third group, although small in number and perhaps seemingly insignificant at the time, is the one on whom I would like to center our attention. These faithful Saints were those who not only understood the revelation and the prophecies included, but also felt heavy personal responsibility to see them fulfilled.

In 1869, thirty years following these most significant circumstances, Elder Wilford Woodruff of the Twelve, who had been a participant in these events, recalled them with great feeling. He reported that even among the Brethren in April 1839, the question arose, “What is to be done?” Said Elder Woodruff:
The general feeling in the Church, so far as I know, was that, under the circumstances, it was impossible to accomplish the work; and the Lord would accept the will for the deed. . . . Joseph was not with us, he was in chains in Missouri, for his religion. When President Young asked the question of the Twelve, “Brethren, what will you do about this?” the reply was, “The Lord has spoken and it is for us to obey.” We felt that the Lord God had given the commandment and we had faith to go forward and accomplish it, feeling that it was His business whether we lived or died in its accomplishment. [Wilford Woodruff, 12 December 1869, JD 13:159]

Elder Woodruff then went on to describe the trip of the remaining Twelve and a few trusted associates back to Missouri and the events of that early morning of April 26, 1839, in Far West, including the laying of the cornerstone of the temple and the other business that was conducted. He concluded his account of this experience by saying, “We then returned, nobody having molested or made us afraid. We performed that work by faith, and the Lord blessed us in doing it” (ibid.). A miracle had happened, but as Moroni explained, it would not occur “until after the trial of [their] faith” (Ether 12:6).

I suppose that no one, even those who faithfully participated, could fully understand at the time the great impact on the kingdom of that cumulative and courageous act of faith which is so obvious today. Although the mission to Britain that was commenced by the Twelve at that time was not without great difficulty, the future success of the work was not only greatly strengthened but ensured by the fulfillment of the prophecy of July 1838.

Given the prophetic calling of the Twelve, it is very possible that they might have clearly understood the long-term implications of their actions. However, it seems more likely that most were involved in doing what they did not because they necessarily understood with any detail or clarity the future consequences of their acts, but rather because they wanted “to fulfil all righteousness.”

I cannot think of faith in the Lord Jesus Christ without being reminded of my own pioneer ancestors who exhibited faith in every footstep. I have ancestors that came in both the Martin and Willie handcart companies. Many years after these companies came into the Salt Lake Valley, there was a Sunday School class that brought up sharp criticism about the decision of the Martin handcart Company to start for the Salt Lake Valley so late in the year.

An elderly man arose and said:

I ask you to stop this criticism. You are discussing a matter you know nothing about. Cold historic facts give no proper interpretation of the questions involved. Mistake to send the Handcart Company out so late in the season? Yes. But I was in that company and my wife, too. We suffered beyond anything you can imagine and many died of exposure and starvation, but we became acquainted with God in our extremities.

I have pulled my handcart when I was so weak and weary from illness and lack of food that I could hardly put one foot ahead of the other. I have looked ahead and seen a patch of sand or a hill slope and I have said, I can go that far and there I must give up, for I cannot pull the load through it. I have gone on to that sand and when I reached it, the cart began pushing me. I have looked back many times to see who was pushing my cart, but my eyes saw no one. I knew then that the angels of God were there.

Was I sorry that I chose to come by handcart? No. Neither then nor any minute of my life since. The price we paid to become acquainted with God was a privilege to pay, and I am thankful that I was privileged to come in the Martin Handcart Company.

Many years later, Paul C. Child, then of the Priesthood Welfare Committee, and I attended a stake conference together. At the priesthood leadership session, when it was his turn to speak, he took his scriptures in hand and walked from the stand into the congregation. Knowing President Child as I did, I knew what he was going to do. He quoted from the Doctrine and Covenants, including section 18 concerning the worth of a soul, indicating that we should labor all our days to bring souls unto the Lord. He then turned to one elders quorum president and asked, “What is the worth of a soul?”
The stunned quorum president hesitated as he formulated his reply. I had a prayer in my heart that he would be able to answer the question. He finally responded, “The worth of a soul is its capacity to become as God.”
Brother Child closed his scriptures, walked solemnly and quietly up the aisle and back to the stand. As he passed by me, he said, “A most profound reply.”

While in graduate school, Sister Neeleman and I, like many of you today, had to make do on a very meager income—so meager, in fact, that I could not see how we could pay our tithing and stay in school. Sister Neeleman, alarmed by my faithless attitude, insisted that we counsel with the bishop. The bishop, after listening patiently to my rationalizations, made me an offer I couldn’t refuse: “Pay your tithing each month, and if you don’t have enough to meet your other obligations, I’ll personally make up the shortfall.” I readily agreed to the bishop’s generous terms. But then he administered the coup de grâce: “Brother Neeleman, why are you so willing to trust me to meet your needs and so unwilling to trust the Lord?”

His words struck hard, knocking me firmly onto the path to a lifetime of tithing faithfulness. I have since learned that Bishop Goodsell’s ploy did not originate with him and is commonly used by bishops to encourage reluctant tithe payers. It nevertheless serves as a constant reminder to me that paying tithing is a matter of faith and trust and has priority over all other expenditures.

We had gone up the canyon to study, but the mountain air and warm sunshine made it too relaxing to concentrate. So I just lay there in a kind of sleepy intoxication while Sarah continued her story. I rolled over to let the sun warm my face when I noticed two young boys climbing the mountain beside us—a trek that was pretty rough going. As the boys pulled themselves up by grasping branches and roots as anchors, rocks and earth under them slid down into the water. Sometimes the roots they grabbed pulled right out of the dirt, and they would slide down the face until they found something to grab onto. The small avalanche they created continued without them into the water below.
As we watched the boys with mild interest, Sarah proceeded to tell me about her best friend in high school. At least Sarah said this girl was her “best friend.” I didn’t know how that was decided. As the story went, this girl had been spending the weekend at Sarah’s, and one night they were up late talking. She told Sarah that although Sarah was fun for the first day or so, her charm soon wore off. Sarah, who was overweight and insecure, didn’t have many friends, and she had believed what this girl had told her.
I thought about this “best friend” and what her motives could possibly have been. Maybe she was annoyed with Sarah and just wanted to be mean. Maybe she was merely entertaining herself and didn’t realize that five years later, Sarah still believed that her charm quickly wore off like Cinderella’s gown.
Sarah had finished talking, and I looked over and saw the boys had finally made it to the top of the mountain. Self-satisfied, they happily scanned the world from their new vantage point and never noticed the scars they had left on the fragile mountainside.
I couldn’t help but notice the parallel between those boys and Sarah’s “best friend.” One remark had scarred Sarah enough, that years later she still expected to be rejected after people really got to know her.
Some time later, I was dealing with a socially clumsy guy who excelled at making a nuisance of himself. Steve had been wearing on my patience already, and when he made some comment that was obviously out of bounds, I turned and snapped at him. My snide remark brought laughter from the group around us, and I felt satisfied that I had made my point.
That night, I was reading in the Book of Mormon when I came across two scriptures that had profound meaning.
“And again I say unto you, is there one among you that doth make a mock of his brother, or that heapeth upon him persecutions?
“Wo unto such an one, for he is not prepared, and the time is at hand that he must repent or he cannot be saved!” (Alma 5:30–31).
I pondered Alma’s question. I remembered my comment to Steve, and I thought back to Sarah and the mountainside. Even though Steve was hard to deal with, he didn’t know any better. His awkwardness deserved love, not a confirmation of his insecurities. I realized that no matter how annoyed I was—or even how thoughtless—I will be held directly responsible for how I treat each of Heavenly Father’s children. Christ has promised that our interactions with each other are important. He said, “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me” (Matt. 25:40).
I know now I would rather have Heavenly Father refer to the service I rendered than to the injuries I compounded.

When I was about eleven, something wonderful happened to my family. My parents decided to start going to church. A few years later, my family traveled to Salt Lake City to be sealed in the temple. It was a very cold day in January, snowy and foggy. The temple was strikingly beautiful. For some reason, I remember its engraved doorknobs. I also remember walking into the beautiful sealing room and seeing my family, aunts, uncles, and family friends. It was so wonderful to have everyone there!

With covenants, obedience to gospel principles becomes rooted in our very soul. I am familiar with a couple where, at the time of their marriage, the wife was not active in the Church and the husband had never been a member of the Church. I will refer to them as Mary and John, not their real names. As children began to enter the picture, Mary felt keenly the need to raise them, as the scripture says, “in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.” John was supportive. Mary made some important sacrifices to be at home to teach the gospel on a consistent basis. She ensured that the family took full advantage of Church worship and activity. Mary and John became exemplary parents, and their children (all energetic boys) grew in faith and devotion to gospel principles and standards.

John’s parents, the boys’ grandparents, were pleased with the wholesome lives and achievements of their grandsons, but because of some antagonism toward the Church, they wanted to attribute this success exclusively to the parenting skills of John and Mary. John, although not a member of the Church, did not let that assessment go unchallenged. He insisted that they were witnessing the fruits of gospel teachings—what his sons were experiencing in church as well as what was happening at home.

John himself was being influenced by the Spirit, by the love and example of his wife, and by the urgings of his sons. In due course, he was baptized, much to the joy of ward members and friends.

While life has not been without challenges for them and their sons, Mary and John wholeheartedly affirm that it is in fact the gospel covenant that is at the root of their blessings. They have seen the Lord’s words to Jeremiah fulfilled in the lives of their children as well as their own: “I will put my law in their inward parts, and write it in their hearts; and will be their God, and they shall be my people.”

At another nursing home on First South, we might interrupt, as I did a few years ago, a professional football game. There, before the TV, were seated two widows. They were warmly and beautifully dressed, absorbed in the game. I asked, “Who’s winning?” They responded, “We don’t even know who’s playing, but at least it’s company.” I sat between those two angels and explained the game of football. I enjoyed the best contest I can remember. I may have missed a meeting, but I harvested a memory.

Elder Graham W. Doxey, who once served in the Second Quorum of the Seventy, told me of an experience. His mother, who was later a counselor in the Primary general presidency, also told me of this experience.
During World War II, he was in the navy posted to China. He and several others went by train to the city of Tientsin to look around.
Later they boarded a train to return to their base, but after more than an hour, the train turned north. They were on the wrong train! They spoke no Chinese. They pulled the emergency cord and stopped the train. They were put off somewhere in the countryside with nothing to do but walk back to the city.
After walking for some time, they found a small pump-handle car, the kind that the railroad workers use. They set it in the rails and began to pump their way along the tracks. It would coast downhill, but it had to be pushed uphill.
As they came to one steep downhill slope, they scrambled aboard the car and began to coast. Graham was the last to get aboard. The only place left for him was in the front of the car. He ran alongside and finally climbed aboard. As he did so, he slipped and fell. He was bouncing on his back with his feet against the car to keep from being run over. As the car quickly gained speed, he heard his mother’s voice say, “Bud, you be careful!”
He wore heavy military boots. His foot slipped, and the thick sole of his boot caught in a gear of a wheel and stopped the car just one foot (30 cm) from his hand.
His parents, who were presiding over the East Central States Mission at the time, were sleeping in a hotel room. His mother sat up at about 2:00 in the morning and awakened her husband: “Bud’s in trouble!” They knelt by the bed and prayed for the safety of their boy.
The next letter he received said, “Bud, what’s wrong? What happened to you?”
He then wrote to tell them what had happened. When they compared times, at the very time he was bouncing along that track, his parents were on their knees in the hotel room half a world away, praying for his safety.

One example of her mother’s faith left an indelible impression on nine-year-old Alexandria. Her father, who had been working hard in the field one day, came home early with a burning fever. Hannah immediately gathered the children, asked them to remain quiet, and then knelt beside her husband’s bed and said a silent prayer. When she arose, she smiled at her concerned children. “Your papa will be well soon,” she said. That very day his fever subsided, and he was able to return to work. Alexandria never forgot that experience.

From Africa comes another example of being patient in the gospel.

Robert Israel Muhile was one of the first from Tanzania to accept the gospel. He was converted while working and studying in Cairo, Egypt. . . . His decision to join the Church brought him “great joy and peace.”

A year later Robert, by then an elder, returned to his home in Tanzania with the strong desire to convert his family. . . . He was unsuccessful. His family had no interest in his newfound religion. He was isolated from other Church members, for his home . . . was six hundred miles, three days by bus, from the nearest branch of the Church.

Robert went to the mission president and received permission to administer the sacrament to himself each week. The next Sunday he invited his family to attend his worship service, but no one came. So he held his meeting alone. This is his poignant description of his Sunday meetings:

I prepared water and bread. I also had more water to clean my hands and a small towel. I sang a song to myself out loud. I had my hymn book. After that I offered an opening prayer. Because I was alone, I didn’t have any business to do, so I sang the sacrament hymn and prepared the sacrament. Then I knelt and blessed it and took it. After the sacrament I covered it, as we respect it always. I offered myself a talk—my testimony. Then I sang as we did in Sunday School and then read from Gospel Principles. I finished with a prayer. I then attended priesthood meeting. After singing a hymn, I said a prayer and then read a lesson from the priesthood manual. After that, I finished by singing and then offered the closing prayer. Each Sunday I had all three meetings. When I partook of the emblems it helped me to be more worthy. [Heidi S. Swinton, “I Sang to Myself,” Pioneer Spirit: Modern-Day Stories of Courage and Conviction (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Company, 1996), pp. 127–28]

Photographs by Leslie Nilsson
From a young age, I really looked forward to going to the university. The university would allow me to get a good education and eventually lead me to a stable job that would enable me to raise a family.
But when I reached university age, I was not sure how I could afford to go. The resources available to me were not sufficient. My dad had passed away the previous year, and my sister and I had moved in with my uncle. At that time, our uncle did not have sufficient material resources to help me because he was helping five of his own children at the university.
From a young age, I also desired to serve God in one capacity or another, but I did not know how. Before I joined the Church at age 19, I had no opportunity to do that.
When I joined the Church in 2004, I still wanted to pursue my university education, but I made the decision to serve a mission first. I still did not know how I was going to achieve my dreams and goals of a university education after my mission, but I exercised faith that things would eventually work out for me. I said to myself, “I will trust the Lord. I will serve Him first. Other things will follow later.” So, I went forward in faith and began doing service to help pay for my mission.
Some of my friends told me I was going to waste my time as a missionary. But I had faith that a mission was the right thing to do, that serving the Lord was not a waste of time.
One of the scriptures that inspired me to serve is found in the New Testament: “But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you” (Matthew 6:33).
I was soon called to the Ghana Cape Coast Mission. My mission provided me with memorable experiences and laid the foundation for future opportunities and responsibilities. After my mission, I was better prepared for my schooling, employment, and various callings in the Church, including as a bishop.
When I came home, some of my cousins had finished their education. My good uncle then had resources available to help me pursue my university education. I did a certified public accounting course and then enrolled in a bachelor’s degree program. Five years after my mission, I graduated in accounting and finance.
Truly, as I have seen in my life after my mission, the Lord has added “all these things” to my family. Before my mission, I was concerned that if I didn’t go to school, if I didn’t get a good education, I would live in poverty. But the Lord has blessed my family beyond measure and enabled us to live a relatively comfortable life.
I have never regretted serving a mission before going to the university. Showing faith to serve a mission was the foundation of many decisions I have made in my life. Serving the Lord helped me build my faith on a sure foundation. That foundation has helped me make right decisions when I have faced tough choices.
For those uneasy about serving a mission, I would give the same advice I received from the scriptures: “Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness,” and all these things that you think will not come to you will eventually come according to the will of God—even tenfold. That’s my experience.

Elder Rasband’s middle name is Anderson. It helps him remember his mother’s family. His great-great-grandparents were Jens and Ane Cathrine Anderson. They lived in Denmark almost 200 years ago. They learned about the gospel in Denmark and were baptized. In 1862 they traveled to the United States to be with other Latter-day Saints. Jens died on the trip across the ocean, but Ane Cathrine and her son kept going. It was hard, but their faith was strong. They made it all the way to Utah.

Earlier this year, my three sons and I visited the sites in France where my father fought in the U.S. Army in World War I. Great was the suffering and terrible were the consequences to all involved in that war. Millions lost their lives. Although my father was not killed, he carried mental and physical scars until he died. Despite his terrifying experiences, he prefaced his diary as follows: “If I had to do it again, I would do it because it was my duty.” As we traveled 80 years later through the beautiful countryside, we visited battle sites and cemeteries of the combatants on both sides. In the military cemetery outside Paris, with my hand resting on Stanford Hinckley’s cross, I called President Hinckley on a cellular phone to express my feelings on that occasion.
World War I was particularly tragic for our family because my father had some second cousins serving on the other side of that conflict in some of the same general battle areas. We eventually became acquainted with these relatives and found them to be decent, God-fearing Christians. They had nothing to do with the grand geopolitics or causes of the war. Like my father, they were serving their country because it was their duty. World War I and the wars that followed brought such great suffering and caused the deaths of countless innocent people. In its simplest terms, wars are so often caused by a great lust for power.

After church Tara puts away her shiny shoes.
She looks at her Book of Mormon picture book.
She draws a picture to send to her auntie.
While Dad and Mom make dinner, Tara plays with her baby brother.
Then she sets the table.
“Tara, thank you for helping our family have a happy Sabbath day!” says Dad.
Trace your finger along the line to help Tara move through her Sabbath day. Can you tell what she does to make Sunday a happy day?

A few years ago, my husband and I found a new pastime that we love. We purchased four-wheelers and decided to go on mini adventures and discover new places that are close by. Truthfully, this purchase was probably more about our midlife crisis and the passing of our youth than seeing the beauty of nature. The beautiful scenery in close proximity to this area is not only breathtaking but also inspiring. On one such day, after noticing several beautiful yellow sunflowers, I felt a strong prompting to stop and take this picture.

As you look at this flower, try to imagine what the surrounding area might look like. Consider how much care and nutrients this flower may require and what purpose it might serve as one of God's creations.

I knew very little about this flower and wondered why I would need to take a picture of it. Nevertheless, I have learned throughout my life that when the Lord is trying to teach us something, we may not understand it right away, but if we are patient and obedient in following the promptings, the lesson or teachings always comes.

In the days and weeks that followed, I started to notice this same flower everywhere. It was along roads, in random fields, and by riverbanks. I started to think I was going crazy, since I had never noticed it before and now it was everywhere I went. What was I supposed to learn from this flower?

At this same time, one of my ancestors' names kept popping into my head. I thought I had read everything about this ancestor, so I wondered why I needed to do anything more. I pulled up the Memories section in FamilySearch on this particular ancestor and, to my surprise, found a story that I had not seen before.

I had never heard of Jerusalem artichokes, so after a quick Google search, I learned although it looks nothing like an artichoke, it got its name from being a staple food for North American pilgrims and was thought of as a new feed in the "new Jerusalem." It can be harvested for human consumption and as livestock feed. However, the most amazing thing I learned is that it was the same exact flower I had been prompted to take a picture of earlier this summer. At that moment, I felt the burning power of the Holy Ghost and knew the Lord was trying to teach me important spiritual principles.

Then, one day, I was introduced to Myriam, a young woman who, at the time, I could only describe as “different” from others I knew. She radiated an inner beauty. We began to go out together and we became very good friends. I fell in love with her.
We had a very open communication and agreed about everything—except religion. One afternoon after discussing Joseph Smith (whom I could not accept as a prophet) and the Book of Mormon (about which I was very skeptical), she told me that she had been called to serve as a missionary in her stake.
Selfishly, I was angry that she had accepted the call and I told her that she must reconsider her decision or I would end our relationship. I was overwhelmed by her calm and self-assured response. She told me that if I really loved her I would try to understand and accept her decision and, most of all, support it. She also invited me to attend her church and try to determine for myself whether or not it was true.
As I pondered the consequences of losing the woman I loved, and as I saw how important Myriam’s religion was to her, I thought that the least I could do was to find out what motivated her decision—a decision I could not fully understand.
The light of truth in my life increased as I entered the chapel the following Sunday. I had my first surprise as soon as I walked through the door. A tall, blond man welcomed me very kindly, and introduced himself as the bishop of the ward. Not more than a few seconds later, several other members greeted me.
I was amazed that so many people could express such sincere love at our first contact. Then, as I sat through the meeting, I heard people talk about things of the spirit with a conviction and an eloquence that I had never heard before.
I had not been interested in investigating other religions because they had all seemed so mysterious. But as I continued to attend church with Myriam, the questions I had about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints were all answered. The light grew and finally the path led me to baptism and to a temple marriage with the woman who first showed me the way.
As a youth, it seemed that there were so many paths in life to choose. Many of them could have led to unhappiness. I can never repay the Lord for the special woman he put in my life to show me which path led to the eternal light of truth.