Gospel Story Finder

Recently during a special women’s conference, a speaker told about how he’d been quite successful in land development and how everything he’d touched had turned to gold. He’d also tried to live a faithful life and had been a very active servant in the gospel. Then he’d been called as a mission president. He had apparently been a very effective mission president and had subsequently returned to his home state. Throughout his life he’d experienced one success after another—he was a recognized leader in his community, had built a prosperous business. Being called as a mission president had sort of cemented in his mind that he’d “made it”—that he was an all-around success.
When he returned from his mission, a combination of changing interest rates and other business factors caused his once-prosperous business to plummet. In fact, he’d lost nearly everything. Telling the story, this man said, “I realized that I’d become quite boastful—that while I felt I had a testimony of Jesus Christ, in my mind I had brought about all of these wonderful things through my hard work, intelligence, and so forth. But when hard times hit, I began to realize how offensive I must have been to others and to my Heavenly Father to assume that I had brought all of these good things on my own. I felt like I’d lived a life of arrogance and boasting.”

In May 2018, our lives took another significant path when my husband's health took a turn for the worse. The prompting I received was immediate. We needed to move to Utah. With heavy hearts but with firm faith, we left our familiar surroundings and moved to a new state, trusting that Heavenly Father had a purpose in our relocation.

Within a month of our arrival in Utah, our first mokopuna (grandchild) was born, but tragically, he was taken back to live with our Heavenly Father. This loss was profound and challenging, yet I felt the love of God surrounding us, reminding us of His presence during our sorrow. With her permission, I share this story of my daughter and her husband, holding their baby as she shared her testimony reminding us that the Church is true and that she has assurance that their family is eternal. What a lesson in faith to witness. My eyes widened as I stared at this 23-year-old asking myself “who is this child?” She’s holding her little one that she just lost and her first thought was to bear her testimony? Our Savior was standing right there clearing the path for us to stand witness that He is almighty, that He is reaching out for us to grab on to. A lesson of faith that has had an everlasting impact on me was through the words of my child.

Just a few months later, on Halloween day, my husband suffered a massive heart attack. The doctors told us he would not survive surgery and that we should prepare ourselves. However, my husband's response to the surgeon was, “You didn’t hear my bishop’s blessing.” I will always be grateful for the strength and faith of Bishop Spencer Reid for his assurance that God has a plan and only He knew what the details were. Our faith combined confirmed that we were in the right place at the right time. Our bishop promised Norris would recover as he has work on this earth to do. Our prompting for our family to move to Utah was a testament to us that God was weaving details into the very fabric of our lives. We were truly tested through these experiences, but then our Father in Heaven tested us some more. I had never heard of anyone being plagued from so many ailments as my husband did. I recall my son coming home from church retelling the story of Job. He told us that Job had sores all over his skin and that his faith in God helped him stay strong in the belief that he would be healed. I wept as my then 7-year-old explained that dad is really sick, but he reminds us always to thank our Heavenly Father for the blessings we have received. My husband has survived three different types of cancer and is now preparing for a kidney transplant. Something that he was told would never happen. What blessings our Heavenly Father has poured down on our little family as we have not waivered in our faith.

As my career became more stable in the realm of education, I was able to take care of my family while my husband faced many of these physical, mental, and emotional challenges. I look back to December 19, 1992, when we were sealed in the Hamilton New Zealand Temple, and fall on my knees with gratitude that He loved us enough to ensure that we would be an eternal family. That all we needed was to have faith and listen with our hearts and not so much with our heads. That a path with all the rational sense in the world may not be the path that you should be taking. That our loving Father in Heaven shows you where to go and you must have faith to follow.

The teaching of Mary Bommeli touched more than those women around the loom and the judge. My father, her grandson, talked to me during the nights as he approached death. He spoke of joyous reunions that were coming soon in the spirit world. I could almost see the bright sunlight and the smiles in that place of paradise as he talked about it with such assurance.
At one point I asked him if he had some repenting to do. He smiled. He chuckled softly as he said, “No, Hal, I’ve been repenting as I went along.” The doctrine of paradise that Mary Bommeli taught those women was real to her grandson. And even the doctrine Mary taught the judge had shaped my father’s life for good. That will not be the end of Mary Bommeli’s teaching. The record of her words will send true doctrine to generations of her family yet unborn. Because she believed that even a new convert knew enough doctrine to teach it, the minds and hearts of her descendants will be opened, and they will be strengthened in the battle.

Another day I witnessed the need for the Spirit to help guide the service that was being performed by well-meaning neighbors. A widow lady said to me, “I don’t need more food. My freezer is literally full of the neighbors’ cakes and pies and goodies. But I need for someone to invite me to go to Temple Square with them and their children to see the Christmas lights. You don’t really see the lights without the children.”

Sometimes it’s cake, but sometimes it isn’t. It is the Spirit that will help us customize our service.

Sue Preece, the Relief Society president of the Southport Ward, initiated a huge game of virtual tag, socially distanced, to brighten and lift the local area’s spirits, but it reached beyond local.
Sue explains the event, “We wanted to remind our members to take some time in their busy lives to stay in touch with each other and try to brighten someone’s day.”
On the designated day, the game began with Sue and her two councillors contacting two more people that they knew. They could use any means to make contact and let the person know they were being thought of, asking if there was any help they needed. Each person they contacted was then asked to contact two more friends, and so on.
Rebekah Brown (pictured), who took part in the project, said, “It all started as a bit of fun really, but it just grew and grew! It was amazing and touched so many lives. People just wanted to get involved, and contacts were made not just locally but worldwide. It was such a simple thing. It didn’t take too much time but was very effective.
“A lot of people went to bed that evening feeling cared for and loved. In this unprecedented period of social isolation, it’s essential to help lift each other’s spirits. We should be particularly concerned about those who need to continue shielding because of health issues. When the rest of us start to get back to a new sort of routine, it’s increasingly vital that we don’t forget the most vulnerable in our society.”

My Church assignments require me to do considerable traveling throughout the world. When I arrive in a city, a stake president or one of his counselors usually meets me at the airport. Although seldom if ever have I met him before, I can invariably find him among the crowd of watchers at the gate and can walk up to him and greet him. He can also recognize me among the crowd of deplaning passengers. A certain amount of publicity is associated with our work as General Authorities. Our pictures appear in various magazines and news articles, so I can explain how he can recognize me from having seen my picture. But how is it that I can so readily recognize him?
Just this January, Sister Burton and I were walking along a street in Rio de Janeiro, when I saw a man walk past us who appeared as though he would make a good Mormon. I thought to myself, “If I could only speak Portuguese, there would be a fine missionary contact.” He stopped ahead of us to look in a shop window and as he did so, he turned facing us. When he saw us he waited until we came up to him and then spoke to us in English. We returned his greeting and he asked us if we were Americans. We replied in the affirmative and he asked, “Are you perchance Mormons?” I replied, “Yes. What do you know about the Mormons?” He told us he was a Mormon also and we had a lovely visit with him. We learned he was a bishop’s counselor in one of the Rio Wards. We met him again in a conference session, along with other wonderful Latter-day Saints who lived in that beautiful city. How was it that we could recognize one another among the teeming thousands of people walking along that busy street?
A question asked by one of the ancient prophets in the Book of Mormon gives an answer. He was talking to church members when he said:
“And now behold, I ask of you, my brethren of the church, have ye spiritually been born of God? Have ye received his image in your countenances? Have ye received this mighty change in your hearts?” (Alma 5:14.)
What a challenging question not only to them, but to us also! If we truly accept God in our lives and live in accordance with his commandments, God will work a mighty change in our appearance and we will begin to appear more like our Heavenly Father, in whose image we have been created. Could it be this appearance we recognize when we meet men and women who are trying to live close to the Lord?
The prophet then goes on to say this about the final day of judgment which someday each one of us must face:
“I say unto you, can ye look up to God at that day with a pure heart and clean hands? I say unto you, can you look up, having the image of God engraven upon your countenances?” (Alma 5:19.)
I dare not say that Mormons are perfect, for you know as well as I do that we each have many human faults. We do, however, call ourselves saints as did the members of the Church of Jesus Christ in the days of the original apostles. When those apostles wrote letters to the members of the Church they addressed them as saints. A saint is not necessarily a person who is perfect, but he is a person who strives for perfection—one who tries to overcome those faults and failings which take him away from God. A true saint will seek to change his manner of living to conform more closely to the ways of the Lord.
It is true that we each have imperfections to overcome. Life is a constant series of challenges and trials. Notwithstanding, we should never fail to strive for that perfection of life which can bring us closer into harmony with God. As the apostle Paul said in writing to the Philippians:
“I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus. Let us therefore, as many as [would] be [come] perfect, be thus minded: and if in anything ye be otherwise minded, God shall reveal even this unto you.” (Philip. 3:14–15.)
Thus we should seek to overcome any discovered fault in our characters which tends to take us away from a total commitment to God.
I would like to speak about that principle of dedication or total commitment. It appears to me that when we join the Church of Jesus Christ and especially when we receive the oath and covenant of the priesthood, we should commit ourselves wholly and completely to the cause of God. By this I do not mean we need give up our daily occupations or our interests in the daily affairs of mankind unless we are called by authority from God to do so. I do mean that a true change must occur in our thinking so complete and so total that our very lives are changed for the better as far as our attitudes and our actions are concerned.
A person’s attitude is perhaps the hardest of all personal attributes to change. If your attitude is right, then your life is made right. If your heart is touched, your mind and way of thinking will change and your life will change for the better accordingly. I believe we must become so immersed in the gospel of Jesus Christ that we become physically as well as mentally more and more like the Lord himself. We must yield our whole hearts to him. What we then do is done not because we are asked to, nor because we are forced to, but because we want to. Neither pressure nor force can be exerted upon us from outside, when what we do is done because it is our own choice and desire. It then makes no difference to us what other men may think, or say, or do. Our hearts being committed wholly to God, what we do is done out of our love for and our trust in him. We then serve God in every way we can because we have been converted, our attitude has been changed and we now desire to become like him both spiritually and physically.
If we believe in Jesus Christ that completely, then we can say as did the people of King Benjamin that we know of a surety of the truth of the gospel:
“… because of the Spirit of the Lord God Omnipotent, which has wrought a mighty change in us, or in our hearts, that we have no more disposition to do evil, but to do good continually.” (Mosiah 5:2.)
When I speak then of total commitment, I do not refer to a momentary dedication which comes from being filled with the Spirit of God only on certain occasions such as in this conference. I refer to a daily or continuing spirit of devotion and dedication which comes from keeping all the commandments of God every day. We must not pick and choose which commandment of God we will or will not obey. Every one is important. For example, we cannot postpone genealogical research, temple work, or missionary work until after we retire. When we accept Jesus Christ, we accept his apostles and prophets and his total concept of Christian living. We then gladly accept the admonition of God’s servants and willingly have family prayer, hold family home evening, keep a year’s supply of food on hand for emergencies, send our sons and daughters on missions, keep the fast, pay an honest tithe, care for the poor and the needy, and are kind and thoughtful and considerate of others. We willingly become saviors for our families and go to the temple regularly to officiate in behalf of our kindred dead who have sacrificed so much for us.
When we therefore understand this principle of commitment, we will realize the importance of priesthood genealogy and temple work. The Lord said that unless the hearts of the fathers are turned to their children and unless the hearts of the children are turned to their fathers, this earth life would fail its purpose. Genealogical work is therefore important and we should get on with it. Yet it will succeed no faster than the bishops in the individual wards give leadership to this program. It will succeed no faster than stake presidents in their individual stakes become actively involved in priesthood genealogical work. There are those who say that they are too busy to give leadership to this program, but I believe such persons fail to understand that it is a basic priesthood program given us by God. Will God’s work fail in its purpose? Is anything too difficult for God? The answer we all know. God’s purposes will be fulfilled by those servants he has chosen to lead out in this work. It is this total commitment, this dedication of purpose, this unfailing faith in God’s work that I am referring to, not only in this, but in all priesthood programs.
From the following scripture, it is clear that the admonition to become totally committed to the cause of Jesus Christ is important to all, especially to those who regard themselves as members of the Church of Jesus Christ in good standing:
“And we know also, that sanctification through the grace of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ is just and true, to all those who love and serve God with all their mights, minds and strength.
“But there is a possibility that man may fall from grace and depart from the living God;
“Therefore let the church take heed and pray always, lest they fall into temptation;
“Yea, and even let those who are sanctified take heed also.” (D&C 20:31–34.)
As I understand this scripture, it means that Jesus Christ is kind and merciful to us when we serve him with our whole hearts, but not any of us can take refuge in past righteousness or service. It also means that there is a possibility that any one of us can fall out of good standing, even those who have already achieved a certain degree of righteousness. Therefore, we need to be on our constant guard, each of us, that we not allow ourselves to fall into habits of carelessness in our faith, in our prayers, or in our various Church activities or responsibilities. It is for this reason that I am resolving again to live closer to God each day and to follow his chosen prophets and apostles more diligently than I have ever done in the past.
As the coming of the Lord approaches, Satan’s pressure on us will increase. We will thus have to live closer to the Lord than we have ever done before. I resolve to do this for I know that God lives. I know that Jesus Christ is his Only Begotten Son, and that these brethren who we sustain as our leaders are true apostles and prophets. They have been called and ordained of God to lead us back into his very presence. I invite all of you who hear my voice or who read this message to take heed as the scriptures have indicated, and that you rededicate yourselves in a total commitment to serve the Lord with all your heart, might, mind, and strength. I so pray in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

For the first time in 27 years, members of the Lakepa-Toi Branch travelled 2,484 kilometres away from their island home to worship together at the Hamilton New Zealand Temple in January 2023.
Individuals and families saved, raised funds, offered many prayers and fasted to make the trip possible.
They also participated in family history research, gathering information for 120 deceased loved ones.
In the temple, the Niue members acted in the place of their loved ones to receive baptism and other sacred temple ordinances.
Timothy Wilson, president of the Lakepa-Toi Branch, said, “It was great to see so many of our branch members . . . doing sacred work for those who have passed on.”
He added, “We felt so close to our Saviour Jesus Christ in the temple. It was spiritually uplifting for me, for the members of the branch who have been away from the temple for so long, and for our youth who were experiencing the temple for the first time.”

In conclusion I would like to return now to Janet’s fundamental principle, unadorned by corollaries, that we can learn from our mistakes. And, specifically, I would like to recount for you what I learned twenty years ago, almost to the day, from one of my great heroes and role models, Harold B. Lee. On September 11, 1973, following the last devotional address he ever gave at this university and about three months before his untimely death, President Lee gathered together a group of BYU administrators and talked to us for about an hour regarding some of the principles of leadership he had learned over the course of his life. He did this by telling us about a dozen stories. The stories fascinated me, as did the conclusions he drew from them. It wasn’t until a couple of days later that Elder Oaks, then president of the university, pointed out something I had not realized: Everyone of President Lee’s stories revolved around a mistake he had made at some phase of his life. Let me tell you the one example I remember best.
As many of you may know, President Lee was a great admirer of President J. Reuben Clark. Prior to being called as a General Authority, Brother Lee served as managing director of the Church welfare program. On that day in 1973 when he spoke to the BYU administrators, he told us how frustrated he had become while serving in his welfare position because of a lack of cooperation by employees in another Church office. Shortly after his call as a member of the Council of the Twelve, he said to his mentor, President Clark, “Now that I am one of the Twelve, do you suppose I can get some response from those people in such and such an office?”
President Clark’s response, as President Lee reported it that day, was, “Yes, my boy, now that you hold the whip hand, there is a great temptation to use it. But you must never do that.”
For me that story bore a powerful message about respect for the use of power and the mistakes that can be made in its misuse.

Twelve-year-old Will hurried through the stony fields of the English countryside, driving his sheep against the bitter wind. But when a crippled ewe slowed down again, he stopped and lugged her, puffing and panting, down to the fold where Cyr the shepherd waited.
Will had dallied too long with Brother Gregory again today, and he wondered what excuse he could give the master shepherd this time. Still, he had learned three new letters today! He could hardly wait for another meeting with the shepherd-monk. Brother Gregory seemed eager to hear what Will could tell him about life at the castle—where the great hall and the count’s chambers were and about the rich fur-trimmed robes the count wore. All these splendors impressed the monk, for in the monastery the brothers knew poverty and lived simply. Will didn’t think of Brother Gregory as he did the solemn monks he had seen before. He was witty and wise and a good friend.
“Late again, lad,” Cyr grumbled as Will eased the animal to the ground.
“The ewe has a bad leg, and I can’t leave her alone tomorrow. It looks like I’ll not be sharing in the Christmastide feasting.”
The older shepherd smiled, “I’ll tend the ewe, lad,” he offered. “I’ve seen many a Christmas feast, and if I’m lucky, I’ll see one or two yet. Besides, I’m waiting to hear more news of the Duke of Wormsley from the castle guard,” the older man added with a sly grin, as though he were keeping a great secret.
“What news?” asked Will, curious.
“He’s burned two outlying huts as a warning to Count Hector. You mark my words, there’ll be battle between the two lords over their inheritance.”
The following evening Will glanced about the great hall. Surrounding Count Hector, Lady Ursula, and other nobles at the large raised table were tables for lesser folks—wandering priests and lute-playing minstrels and traveling merchants and adventuring knights. Beneath these the peasants were gathered, Will among them. Attendants carried salvers heaped with food, and children scurried about underfoot. Dogs growled and snarled under the long trestle tables, waiting for choice scraps. Huge meat pies were served and peacocks and fragrant new bread, washed down by tankards of mead.
Suddenly, Will stared in disbelief. In his black hood and cassock, Brother Gregory sat gaily chatting with the guests around his table. But when he rose slightly to scoop up a second helping of meat pie, Will glimpsed a sharp glinting beneath the folds of the monk’s robes.
Beads of sweat broke out on the boy’s upper lip when he realized that Brother Gregory was carrying a dagger! Will knew that true monks did not go to Christmas festivals, nor did they carry daggers. The monk is an imposter!
Anxious about what might happen, Will slipped from his place into the kitchen. Attendants were hurrying in and out, and the place smelled hot and steamy. A cook motioned to a huge meat pastry and said gruffly, “You, boy. Take this in to the count.”
Will obediently grabbed the pie and hefted it to a corner of the busy kitchen. Then grasping a butcher knife, he quickly scratched into the crust the words BLACK HOOD in the same large block letters that the false monk had taught him. His eyes blurred from the steam and he wiped the sweat from his forehead. He wondered if Brother Gregory had seen him too.
Holding the huge pastry high to shield his face, Will bore it in to the great hall and set it directly before the count. The lord and his group were laughing and talking, but when Count Hector leaned forward to grasp his goblet, he spied the words. Peering at Will, and then around the tables, he spotted the only black hood in the hall. Before Will could blink, Brother Gregory had whipped the dagger from the folds of his black robe. It zinged past Will’s ear just as the count ducked to one side. As the imposter raced for the door, an alert guard grabbed him around the neck and forced him down.
The week after the Christmas holiday was over, Will was silently packing a poultice on the ewe’s bad leg. Cyr watched admiringly with weary eyes. “I think you’ll do well as a shepherd, lad. It would be wise to be content in your place.” He shook his head. “I know that idea is painful to you now, Will, since your friend Brother Gregory disappointed you. It’s too bad he turned out to be a spy of the wicked Duke of Wormsley.”
Will shrank from the words and stared at the sheep’s festered leg, his eyes burning. Now that it was known that he had been used by the imposter-monk to gain information about the castle and its lord, he felt he would be shamed forever.
As Cyr went out of the fold for a moment, a page beckoned Will from the doorway. “The count wants to see you, lad,” he rasped.
A few minutes later Will sat on a stool in the count’s chambers, afraid to look at the man who had summoned him. After what seemed a terribly long silence, the count finally spoke, “The whole castle knows of your association with the Duke of Wormsley’s spy, lad, but I believe you meant no harm.” He paused. “Did he teach you to make those letters?”
“Yes, my lord,” Will whispered.
The count leaned forward and his bright eyes pierced through the boy like a knife. “Those letters you wrote saved my life!”
At the fervor in the count’s voice, Will looked up. Count Hector settled back in his chair and continued, “The monastery is without a shepherd these past days, and the abbot tells me that if I consent to let you tend their sheep, they’ll teach you more letters and such that the imposter began. He tells me that if this arrangement is made, in a few years I would have a new scribe to copy books,” Count Hector concluded. Will sat in stunned silence, hardly able to believe what he was hearing. The count snapped his fingers impatiently. “Well, boy?” he demanded.
“I—I think the plan is excellent, my lord!” breathed Will, his eyes bright. “Thank you, my lord. Thank you!”

Carson could hardly sit still. He was excited to go to Grandma’s house! Every summer Grandma invited all the cousins over to her house for a three-day “Cousin Camp.” Each year the camp had a different theme. Carson couldn’t wait to see what they were going to do. When Carson and his cousins got to Grandma’s house, she met them at the door.
“Welcome to Cousin Camp!” Grandma said. “This year’s theme is service. For our first activity, we’re going to make posters for our local firefighters.”
Everyone split into two groups. Carson joined a group and eyed the candy piled in the center of the table.
“Use this candy to create a kind and fun message for the firefighters,” said Grandma.
Carson and his cousins worked together to make the perfect poster. Carson drew a big red fire truck and taped on his favorite candy.
When they arrived at the fire station, the firefighters were really happy with the posters. They showed Carson and his cousins around the firehouse and even let them sit in the fire truck!
At breakfast the next day, Carson’s cousins tried to guess the next Cousin Camp activity.
“I think we’ll do yard work for Grandma’s neighbors,” Ava said.
“Maybe we’ll make food for people who are hungry,” said Nash.
“Or clean up the park!” said Natalie.
Grandma smiled. “Those are great ideas, but today we’re going to make fleece blankets for children at the hospital. Everyone pick some fabric, and then I’ll show you what to do.”
Carson looked through the stack of fabric and picked one with soccer balls on it. He loved soccer!
“Want to help me with my blanket?” Carson asked Caitlin.
“Sure!” said Caitlin.
“OK. I’ll cut strips along the edges, and you can tie them in a knot.”
Caitlin nodded and concentrated on tying each knot. Soon they were finished, and the blanket looked great! When they got to the hospital, Carson and Caitlin gave their soccer blanket to a girl who was sick. She loved soccer too!
During Cousin Camp, Carson and his cousins also served each other. They helped Grandma make meals. They helped each other make their beds, and they held doors open for each other. Carson never realized there were so many ways to serve! He thought about all the things he could do to keep serving after Cousin Camp was over.
“Today’s the last day of Cousin Camp,” Grandma said during breakfast the next day. Carson was sad it was almost over. He was having a blast!
“You can choose what we do today,” said Grandma.
Hailey and Zoie loved animals, so everyone collected old towels to give to a veterinary clinic. Oliver had the idea to give water bottles to people who were homeless. One man was grateful because it was very hot that day!
Go to “Family Night Fun” for an activity to go with this story!
Grandma said, “You’ve all done an amazing job serving others! I know Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ are happy with the way you’ve all served.”
“Grandma,” Carson asked, “can we do the same thing for Cousin Camp next year?”

Despite his health issues, John remains positive and is actively involved in his Lutheran Homes community, which provides church services and classes overseen by a full-time pastor. Soon after moving into the facility, John learned that the pastor would be away for a while and suggested that in his absence, the classes could be led by other residents — John was happy to lead one himself, if needed. The pastor took him up on his offer and John has since taught dozens of classes, which include a weekly broadcast (as his health permits) over an internal TV channel aired to hundreds of residents in the facility and its surrounding village.
Even as he grapples with physical limitations, John spends numerous hours a week preparing his lessons, sensitively referencing videos and other learning material from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Initially, the pastor reviewed each lesson before it was presented, but he now has no concerns about John’s teachings. In fact, John’s messages have seen several copies of the Book of Mormon placed with residents, many of whom have asked him to cover specific topics. He speaks fondly of one such request, which resulted in a 5-week course of instruction on grace.

The next Sunday was fast Sunday. I had hoped to make a discreet entry, but when we arrived it seemed that everyone greeted us with a smile and a kind word. Many people welcomed me to the ward and asked if I was new. However, when I quietly passed along the sacrament tray without partaking, my three-year-old loudly asked, “Mom, aren’t you hungry?” Then my 11-year-old stood up to bear her testimony and said how happy she was that her mom had quit drinking beer and had started coming back to church. So much for quietly sneaking in!

Sister Hinckley and I were recently involved in a regional conference in Rexburg, Idaho. We had not been to Yellowstone National Park for many years. We decided to drive to the conference and on Monday return home by way of Yellowstone.

In 1988, terrible forest fires raged there. Each day the news media brought us graphic reports of the intensity of the fires as they raced over thousands of acres, destroying millions of trees. The flames finally burned out, and people literally mourned over the desolate picture of countless lodgepole pines, their tops burned and the straight, scorched trunks standing like solemn grave markers in a crowded cemetery.

But when we visited there about a month ago, we saw something of captivating interest. The dead pines still stood, but between the burned trees new seedlings have sprung from the ground, millions of them.

Evidently when fire hit the treetops, the pinecones exploded, scattering seed to the ground. There is a new generation of trees now, young and beautiful and filled with promise. The old trees eventually will fall, and the new ones will grow tall to create a forest of great beauty and usefulness.

As we drove through the park, I thought of the wonders of nature, of the rhythm of our lives. We grow old, and I am among those who have done so. Our vitality and our powers slacken. But a new generation is at our feet. These are children. These too are sons and daughters of God whose time has come to take their place on earth. They are like the new growth in the park—young, tender, sensitive, beautiful, and full of promise.

It wasn’t until the end of my eighth grade year that I realized I was very different from my classmates and even my best friends, who were nonmembers. I was faced with a situation that really bothered me. In class we were debating some controversial topics, including abortion. When I shared my thoughts, I was surprised to see my moral values ripped to pieces. Something I feel is so precious—physical intimacy, something that should be reserved for marriage—was simply a fun pastime to other people. I walked out of the classroom that day knowing that things were going to be very different.

In the same class, I was faced with another moment that would force me to act on all of the things I had been taught since Primary. My teacher was in the front of the class, talking about a snippet of a movie we were about to watch. Some of my classmates suggested that we watch the whole movie. My teacher shook her head and nonchalantly explained that she couldn’t because the movie had a mature rating. I was stunned when I first heard this. I never thought this would happen.

I sat in my chair, thinking about what I should do. A thought kept coming into my head: We have been asked not to watch offensive movies. I tried to rationalize that because I was in school, the part of the movie we were going to watch would be appropriate. But the thought of not watching offensive movies trumped my rationalizations.

I calmly raised my hand, and in front of my whole class, I asked to sit outside of class while the movie played. I felt everyone’s eyes on me as I pushed in my chair and grabbed my book. I saw the looks on their faces; they simply didn’t understand.

While sitting in the hallway, I felt very happy. I knew I had done the right thing, no matter what my peers or teacher said. I felt stronger too. I knew I didn’t have to watch an inappropriate movie clip just because my teacher had presented it to us.

Since then, I have often thought about the Mormonad hanging up in my room. It reads, “Adversity Can Make You Strong.” I believe that when we are faced with moments of adversity and we stand up to them, we are made stronger than if we had sat down and let them happen.

This is an inner strength that is found through our Savior. If we look to Him in our times of difficulty, we will be made strong. Our faith in Him can help us face adversity unashamed. We must “be strong and of a good courage” (Joshua 1:9) and look to our Heavenly Father and our Savior for everything; with all that, our adversities will make us stronger.

In Dennis’s ward the young men study Preach My Gospel each week. They have become like a team, working closely with the full-time missionaries and bringing friends to Sunday meetings and other activities, including basketball and football games during the week. The priests have baptized friends and others they helped teach with the missionaries. Over several years, this team of young men has strengthened the whole ward, and four of them, including Dennis, received calls to the Kenya Nairobi Mission.
They have followed the counsel of Elder David A. Bednar of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles to “become missionaries long before you submit your mission papers.”3 They did so by working together as a quorum, a team better than any other.

In December 2020, I was called to be the bishop of my ward, and I gained a different insight into the struggles that people like Debbie face. I have been able to counsel with members who are caring for loved ones with various medical conditions, including dementia. Their trials, while certainly refining them spiritually, wear them down physically and mentally. I found that my role as bishop was to connect my ward members with resources that could provide comfort, support, and real help.
I engaged my ward council. Prayerful consideration was given to determine who would be the right ministering brothers and sisters to provide the best support. When we invited these ministering brothers and sisters to serve, I often connected them with community organizations to provide training and offer support. I made assignments of where and when to help. In their usual loving way, the Relief Society jumped into action to provide support to sisters and brothers who were caregivers.
In most instances, caregivers downplay the dementia symptoms and avoid involving other family members or friends and neighbors. This isolation deprives the person living with Alzheimer’s and their caregiver from receiving much needed support. Likewise, it increases the stress, both mental and physical, on those providing care.
Because of the strenuous toll on caregivers, at least 36 percent of them die before the person for whom they are caring dies. Often it is not until the family is in crisis that they seek outside help, and at this point intervention and support services are limited in what can be offered.
I have relied heavily on the counsel from President Henry B. Eyring, who said: “Remember that when the Lord lets us encounter someone in distress, we honor the good Samaritan for what he did not do as much as for what he did. He did not pass by. … He did what he could for the beaten man and then put in place a specific plan for others to do more.”
In the same general conference address, he mentioned the toll on caregivers: “Even though extended and loving service to people is richly rewarded, you have learned that there are physical, emotional, and financial limits to what is possible. The person giving care long enough can become the one who needs care.”1
For these reasons and many others, it is important for ward council members to provide support and assistance, even when caregivers aren’t quite sure what can be done. The ward council has many resources available to them through Church programs and from outside community agencies.
Another friend of mine, whom I will call Frank, reached out to me in my role with the Alzheimer’s Association a few years ago while he was serving as a bishop. He was concerned about several members of his ward who had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease and suspected that others had some form of undiagnosed dementia. Frank was anxious to meet the needs of these ward members and support other members serving as caregivers. Unaware of any resources, he turned to me out of desperation with a plea for help.
We arranged for a presentation to his ward’s empty-nester home evening group. Normally about 25 people attended this monthly activity. After it was announced that the presentation would be about Alzheimer’s disease, more than 100 people attended. Many were concerned about getting Alzheimer’s disease but weren’t sure what it is or how they might be able to reduce their risk.
During this meeting, I shared a wide variety of tools available through the Alzheimer’s Association and from other community sources.
I encouraged them to visit alz.org to find free web-based services offered by the Alzheimer’s Association and other community organizations. The site includes family support services as well as education programs about the signs and symptoms of the disease and how to reduce risk of developing it. The site offers an online Alzheimer’s and Dementia Caregiver Center, with helpful tools for caregivers. It also provides connections for caregivers to local support groups, care consultations, and opportunities to connect with others who are in the early stages of the disease. Likewise, ward council members can use this resource to better understand the disease and learn how they can offer assistance to ward members serving as caregivers.
Another effective service is a free 24/7 helpline at 800-272-3900. Trained consultants offer callers advice, information about care, help with crisis situations, referrals to local organizations, and support in more than 200 languages and dialects.
The site communityresourcefinder.org is a database of organizations in the United States that offer services for people living with dementia and their caregivers. Services include respite care, adult day care, assisted living, and connection to local area agencies on aging. Alzheimer.ca provides similar help for those in Canada.
The Church has an excellent web page called “Support for Caregivers” that provides a number of helpful resources. It can be found at this shortened URL: bit.ly/3oXe5gZ.
As I shared these resources with Frank’s ward council, other members, and caregivers, he observed increased support for and engagement with those members affected by Alzheimer’s and other dementias in his ward and stronger support for caregivers. Increased knowledge can make all the difference!
In my capacity as bishop, I have seen these resources become valuable to help ward council members be more aware of Alzheimer’s disease and dementia and more capable of offering meaningful service to ward members who are caring for loved ones with dementia. Just like Nephi praying to ask the Lord where he might go to find ore from which he could make tools to build a ship, as ward members pray for resources to help those living with dementia and their caregivers, they can be guided to tools like those mentioned above that will allow them to minister with meaningful service. These resources will allow them to figuratively build a boat of care, support, and Christlike service.
Once my friend Debbie was released from the hospital, her husband and children sought out the Alzheimer’s Association. The local chapter provided support to the family. Debbie found the assistance she needed and realized the importance and power of allowing others to assist in caring for her mother.
The experiences of Debbie and Frank and myself within my own ward are evidence that there is a strong need for education and supportive information for caregivers, for ward leaders, and for people living with Alzheimer’s disease or other dementias. Perhaps more importantly, their experiences reflect the number of people who are suffering in silence and don’t know where to turn for assistance. Their stories demonstrate that many people in each ward and branch of the Church are dealing with these challenges.
The Christlike service we give to those with dementia and to their caregivers can help bring them peace.

I was coming home from swimming lessons Saturday morning when I saw lots of people lined up for a parade. I asked my mom why we weren’t going to the parade. She told me it was because we needed to listen to general conference. I really wanted to go to the parade and was sad that we couldn’t go, but I told my mom that I knew it was more important to listen to conference and that I would do that instead. I liked listening to the prophet and other speakers. I know it helps us to learn more about Jesus.

Elyssa also loves her tata (grandpa). When Elyssa was a baby, Tata would play the guitar for her. Later they sang together. Tata was with her a lot because he developed a serious disease and couldn’t go to work. Each day, he picked her up after school and took her to eat at a place of her choice. When Pixie was missing one stormy night, Tata comforted Elyssa, prayed with her, and kept searching until her beloved pet was found safe several days later.

When I was married for only a short time and we had our first child, I had just finished three wonderful years doing a show “It’s a Miracle” for Janice Kapp Perry and Joy Lundberg. I found myself working two somewhat part-time jobs to get by while I looked for more permanent work in my field. I was in serious conversations with several different employers over the span of more than a year, including BYU, the Church, and a large drugstore chain in California. All were very serious about hiring me and had wonderful jobs for me that seemed exactly what I wanted to do. It seemed only a matter of time before I was back to a job I was suited for.

Then the strangest things started to happen. One position was frozen, just minutes before the manager, who had flown out from California to Salt Lake to make me an offer, met with me. Another was given to a different person when I was already temporarily hired and the new position created using me as the template and the managers assuming I would get the job automatically. The third job just kept stringing the offer out, promising a decision at some future date, but assuring me they really wanted to hire me, but not just yet.

I was looking heavenward, wondering what I had done to offend God that this was happening to me. I remember my wife asking me if I had done something wrong to bring the wrath of heaven down on our family. I felt like the Prophet Joseph in Liberty Jail, asking God where He is hiding. What was going on? Why were these perfectly matched jobs slipping through my fingers? Why were my prayers going seemingly unanswered? I’d been good.

During the later part of this, a slight acquaintance of mine working in the Northeast called my apartment and told my wife of a job at Virginia Tech he had heard, and thought of me. I ignored this, because who wants to move across the country and work for a strange university that I knew absolutely nothing about on the recommendation of someone I barely knew? And besides, these other jobs were going to happen at any moment.

My wife wouldn’t let it go and asked me repeatedly over several months if I had applied. Finally in late spring one day, I grabbed an old résumé—those were the days you had to type them on a typewriter, get them printed on nice paper costing a small fortune, and handwrite the cover letter—put them in an envelope right in front of her, licked a stamp, and asked her if she now was happy and to get off my back. In the mail—end of story. Nothing will ever come of it.

Years later I found out the other side of my story. Virginia Tech had this All-American musical-performing group of 22 singers, a 12-piece show band, a full technical crew of 25, and lots of equipment, sets, and costumes, doing about 25 shows a school year around the eastern United States. They had suddenly lost their Technical Director and for about half a year had conducted two national searches and countless interviews, finding no one that fit what they wanted, someone who fit what they were trying to portray: the All-American image, “Mom, Home, Apple Pie.” They had given up hope when my résumé and hand-written cover letter showed up. Mormon, BYU graduate, can do all technical things required. They opened another official search, accepted only my application, closed the search, and made a phone call.

I had just decided I would quit the daytime job, even if I starved when the phone rang at work. Some lady in a thick Southern accent tried to get me to fly across the US for three days that weekend to consider this job. I really thought someone was playing a joke on me or I was on Candid Camera. It took three times for me to really understand what was happening. I ended up going three days later to Virginia. While there watching the show group at a performance, I received a very powerful witness that I was to move there and take the job.

My wife almost wouldn’t believe me when I called to tell her the news. They hadn’t even made me an offer yet, and the pageant committee at the Church was mad because they found out I was interviewing for another job. Monday morning the offer came, and Wednesday I left Provo for Blacksburg for 13 wonderful years. Thirty years later I realized, while cleaning out a stack of rejection letters from that time period, that while seeking heaven’s will and help in my employment, that we must abide heaven’s timing as well. Although I was being considered for many good jobs that fit me, Heavenly Father knew the best job was still in the future, not quite ready for me yet. And sometimes he speaks through my wife!

A boy entered a pharmacist’s shop and told the owner that he was Bob Brown, son of Mrs. Helen Brown. He asked if there was any possibility for him to work at the pharmacy so that he could pay for medicine that the store owner had supplied the family but that hadn’t been paid for. Mr. Jones didn’t really need any additional help, but he was so impressed by the unusual conscientiousness and honesty of this seventeen-year-old boy that he made arrangements for Bob to work at the store on Saturdays.
Bob’s work that first day greatly impressed the store owner, and at the end of it, he handed the young man an envelope containing twelve dollars. The boy took two one-dollar bills from the envelope and asked Mr. Jones to give him change for one of them. Bob put the other dollar bill and twenty cents in his pocket. Then he put the eighty cents change in the envelope with the ten-dollar bill and handed it back to Mr. Jones to apply against the family account. Mr. Jones urged Bob to keep a larger portion of the money. “You’ll need some money for school,” he said.
“No, sir,” said the seventeen-year-old. “Maybe later I could keep a little more, but today I would like to pay the ten dollars and eighty cents on our bill.”
At that moment some of Bob’s friends came by and asked him to attend a movie with them. He said that he couldn’t, that he had to go home, and that he didn’t have any money. One of the boys playfully jostled him and heard the twenty cents rattle in Bob’s pocket. The teasing began again because he obviously did have some money.
Bob finally said quietly, “Look, guys, I do have a little money, but it isn’t mine—it’s my tithing.”
Early in his life Bob had learned to be honest with his fellowmen as well as the Lord. Can anyone doubt that he will be an equally fine man, a good husband and dad, and a concerned leader who will help many others?