Gospel Story Finder

This is Kaylee and Kyle. They’re twins. They’re getting baptized tomorrow. Grandma has come to visit.
Will you sit on the porch with me?
You seem worried. What’s the matter?
I’m nervous about getting baptized. What if I can’t breathe, or Dad drops me?
I was afraid to tell anyone because they’d laugh.
It’s OK to be nervous. I—
Are you telling stories without me?
Come sit with us! We’re talking about your baptisms tomorrow.
I had baptism jitters too. So my dad gave me a blessing.
After that, I felt calm. I knew being baptized was a good choice.
Do you think Dad would give me a blessing?
And me? I’m nervous too, but I thought everyone would laugh if I told.
You two are alike! Why don’t you ask right now?
Feeling better now?
Yes! I know everything will be OK.
Me too. But now I can’t sleep ’cause I’m too excited!

Elder Alan and Sister Sheri Erickson, serving in the Liberia Monrovia Mission, enjoyed an inspiring “Light the World” event with the members of the Buchanan 2nd Branch.
For several weeks the sweet Relief Society president, Sister Nagbe, felt inspired to invite the sisters to participate in what she called an “outreach”. Instead of having an end-of-year social for Relief Society, she thought a better use of energy and time would be to invite others throughout the community to come and see.
Elder and Sister Erickson provided 100 “He Is Risen” pass-along cards to be handed out by the Relief Society sisters as invitations to people in the community.
On Dec. 9, one week after the branch moved into its beautiful new meetinghouse, eight sisters excitedly arrived at the church.
Aren’t these sisters beautiful standing outside the front of the new meetinghouse! Relief Society president, Sister Nagbe is in front in the yellow shirt. The sister in orange, Sarah, was baptized the previous Saturday. The sister in rust and white, Sophie, was the most eager and enthused. She is waiting to get married so she can get baptized.
They divided up the pass-along cards and wrote the location and time for Sunday services on the back of each. Then they headed out in groups of two or three to invite people. Some also carried copies of The Book of Mormon.
They had decided upon a target community, but on their way there, they couldn’t wait to start sharing the cards. Soon the idea formed to record the names and contact numbers of those they met.
A usual greeting went something like this:
“Good morning! We are from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. We want to invite you to service on Sunday at our new building on God Bless You Hill, next to the auto parts. You are most welcome.”
Almost every person greeted was happy to give their name and number, resulting in a list of 77 names and about 70 numbers (some people did not have a contact number.)
Every card was passed out and a few copies of The Book of Mormon as well, all before 1 p.m. Several of the sisters decided to call those they had met to remind, encourage, and invite them again to come and see.
It was amazing! A true wonder and marvel! All the sisters who came felt so enthusiastic about sharing the gospel. They said:
“We want to do this the last Friday of every month! Soon we’ll be many branches, even a stake!”
With that kind of vision and enthusiasm we don’t doubt but that it will come true.

During the first few months after my first child was born, I was exhausted from helping my wife care for our baby at night. I began to skip scripture study on some days. I felt my life was out of order and knew I needed to make a change. I decided to wake up an hour earlier each morning to study the Book of Mormon along with the institute manual. I found greater spiritual strength to bear my burdens. I felt more joy and peace through the companionship of the Holy Ghost.

This story happened in Iceland.
“Higher!” Evolett said to her friend Anita. They were seeing how high they could jump on Evolett’s trampoline.
Just then, Anita jumped very high. When her feet landed again, it made Evolett fly up! Both girls crashed down on the trampoline. They laughed.
“This is so fun,” Anita said. “Can we play tomorrow too?”
Evolett flopped onto her back. “Yeah! I’d love to.”
“We can play at my granny’s house.” Anita’s granny lived a few houses away from Evolett.
Then Evolett remembered the next day was Sunday. She wanted to go to Primary. It would be fun to play with Anita, but she wanted to make a good choice.
“I just remembered I can’t,” Evolett said. “I’m sorry. I’m going to church with my family tomorrow.”
Anita stood up and bounced again. “Why?”
Evolett started jumping too. “Well, I want to follow Jesus Christ. My family goes to church every Sunday to learn about Him and take the sacrament.”
“What’s the sacrament?” Anita asked.
“That’s when we eat a small bite of bread and drink a little cup of water to remember Jesus Christ,” said Evolett. “Then people talk about how Jesus helps them. And after that, there’s a special class for kids!”
“That sounds fun!” Anita said. “Can I come?”
“Sure!” Evolett smiled.
Anita ran home to ask her granny if she could go to church with Evolett. The next morning, Evolett and her family picked up Anita on their way.
When they got to church, Evolett showed Anita around. She showed her the Primary room, the gym, and the chapel.
Soon it was time for sacrament meeting. Evolett and Anita sat together. Evolett tried to think of Jesus Christ during the sacrament. Then they listened to the talks.
Finally it was time for Primary! Evolett introduced Anita to some of her friends.
“This is my friend Anita,” Evolett said.
“We are so glad you came today. I am Sister Magnusson,” the Primary teacher said.
As Evolett and Anita listened to the lesson about Jesus Christ, Evolett felt happy inside. She liked being at church with Anita. She turned and smiled at Anita. Her friend smiled back.
“Thank you for inviting me,” Anita said on the way home.
Evolett was glad she could follow Jesus Christ. And she was glad that Anita wanted to learn about Him too.
It was fun to jump on a trampoline and fly in the air, but the warm feeling Evolett felt inside was even better.
Who could you invite to church with you?
Illustrations by Fiona Powers

One day I was in the bus line with my friend Mike.* We try to get in line first so we can sit in the very back of the bus. There is this girl named Savannah that is kind of rude to other kids. I’ve known her since second grade. Something I found out was that if you are nice to her, she’s nice back. Mike, on the other hand, thinks that if someone is rude to him, he should be rude back. I admit I’ve done that sometimes.
That day we were at the front of the line. When our line was heading to the bus, Savannah tried to sneak in front of everyone so she could sit in the back. When she was right behind us, we tried to tell her that she couldn’t cut, but she made an excuse that most people make. “We’re all going to the same place,” she said.
When we got to the bus, there was some shoving. Savannah got in first. She quickly ran to the back and put her backpack where she was sitting. “I got here first,” said Savannah. Mike and Savannah started arguing a bit. I told Mike that we could sit somewhere else, but he didn’t listen. I started arguing with Mike. Then I remembered a line from a movie that said when we have a choice between being right or being kind, we should choose to be kind.
So I asked Savannah nicely if we could sit in the seat next to her. Mike doesn’t like sharing seats, but he thought about it. “Only if you guys don’t bother me,” said Savannah. “Fine,” Mike said. On the way home, I had a good feeling inside. You should always be kind, even if it’s hard.

Illustrated by Sal Velluto and Eugenio Mattozzi
Wilford Woodruff traveled across the United States several times as a leader in the Church. One time he stayed overnight in Indiana on his way to meet with the Saints in Boston, Massachusetts.
Wilford: I think we should sleep here tonight. I know of some brethren who will let us stay with them.
Wilford, his wife, and one of their children decided to sleep in the carriage.
Wife: It looks like all of the other children are settled down in the house for the night. Good night, Wilford.
Wilford: Good night.
Not long after getting in bed, Wilford heard a voice tell him to move his carriage.
Wilford: I have to move the carriage.
Wife: What for?
Wilford: I do not know. But I do recognize the voice of the Spirit, and it’s telling me to move.
Wilford moved the carriage forward. About 30 minutes later a sudden whirlwind blew a nearby oak tree over. The huge tree was snapped into pieces and crushed two fences.
When the Woodruffs’ hosts and children came out to look at the damage, they noticed that the tree had landed right where Wilford’s carriage was parked before he moved it.
In the morning the Woodruffs were able to safely continue their journey, and they went on their way rejoicing.
Wilford: By obeying the revelation of the Spirit of God to me, I saved my life as well as the lives of my wife and child.

After finishing our mission assignment, I was called by President Gordon B. Hinckley to serve as a Seventy in the Church. Part of my early training as a new General Authority included an opportunity to sit with members of the Twelve as they assigned missionaries to serve in one of the 300-plus missions of this great Church.

With the encouragement and permission of President Henry B. Eyring, I would like to relate to you an experience, very special to me, which I had with him several years ago when he was a member of the Quorum of the Twelve. Each Apostle holds the keys of the kingdom and exercises them at the direction and assignment of the President of the Church. Elder Eyring was assigning missionaries to their fields of labor, and as part of my training, I was invited to observe.

I joined Elder Eyring early one morning in a room where several large computer screens had been prepared for the session. There was also a staff member from the Missionary Department who had been assigned to assist us that day.

First, we knelt together in prayer. I remember Elder Eyring using very sincere words, asking the Lord to bless him to know “perfectly” where the missionaries should be assigned. The word “perfectly” said much about the faith that Elder Eyring exhibited that day.

As the process began, a picture of the missionary to be assigned would come up on one of the computer screens. As each picture appeared, to me it was as if the missionary were in the room with us. Elder Eyring would then greet the missionary with his kind and endearing voice: “Good morning, Elder Reier or Sister Yang. How are you today?”

He told me that in his own mind he liked to think of where the missionaries would conclude their mission. This would aid him to know where they were to be assigned. Elder Eyring would then study the comments from the bishops and stake presidents, medical notes, and other issues relating to each missionary.

He then referred to another screen which displayed areas and missions across the world. Finally, as he was prompted by the Spirit, he would assign the missionary to his or her field of labor.

From others of the Twelve, I have learned that this general method is typical each week as Apostles of the Lord assign scores of missionaries to serve throughout the world.

Having served as a missionary in my own country in the Eastern States Mission a number of years ago, I was deeply moved by this experience. Also, having served as a mission president, I was grateful for a further witness in my heart that the missionaries I had received in New York City were sent to me by revelation.

After assigning a few missionaries, Elder Eyring turned to me as he pondered one particular missionary and said, “So, Brother Rasband, where do you think this missionary should go?” I was startled! I quietly suggested to Elder Eyring that I did not know and that I did not know I could know! He looked at me directly and simply said, “Brother Rasband, pay closer attention and you too can know!” With that, I pulled my chair a little closer to Elder Eyring and the computer screen, and I did pay much closer attention!

A couple of other times as the process moved along, Elder Eyring would turn to me and say, “Well, Brother Rasband, where do you feel this missionary should go?” I would name a particular mission, and Elder Eyring would look at me thoughtfully and say, “No, that’s not it!” He would then continue to assign the missionaries where he had felt prompted.

As we were nearing the completion of that assignment meeting, a picture of a certain missionary appeared on the screen. I had the strongest prompting, the strongest of the morning, that the missionary we had before us was to be assigned to Japan. I did not know that Elder Eyring was going to ask me on this one, but amazingly he did. I rather tentatively and humbly said to him, “Japan?” Elder Eyring responded immediately, “Yes, let’s go there.” And up on the computer screen the missions of Japan appeared. I instantly knew that the missionary was to go to the Japan Sapporo Mission.

Elder Eyring did not ask me the exact name of the mission, but he did assign that missionary to the Japan Sapporo Mission.

Privately in my heart I was deeply touched and sincerely grateful to the Lord for allowing me to experience the prompting to know where that missionary should go.

At the end of the meeting Elder Eyring bore his witness to me of the love of the Savior, which He has for each missionary assigned to go out into the world and preach the restored gospel. He said that it is by the great love of the Savior that His servants know where these wonderful young men and women, senior missionaries, and senior couple missionaries are to serve. I had a further witness that morning that every missionary called in this Church, and assigned or reassigned to a particular mission, is called by revelation from the Lord God Almighty through one of these, His servants.

As a newly ordained teacher in the Aaronic Priesthood, my first home teaching companion was Henry Wilkening, a high priest nearly 60 years my senior. He was a German immigrant, a shoemaker by trade, small in stature, but an energetic and faithful shepherd to the families assigned to us. I trotted behind him (for he seemed to walk and to climb stairs much faster than I could) during our monthly visits, which took us into sobering environments new to my sheltered experience. He expected me to present part of each lesson and to make all the appointments, but mostly I listened and watched as he aided brothers and sisters with various spiritual and social, economic and emotional needs previously unknown to me as a 14-year-old.
I began to realize how much good could be done by a single faithful priesthood bearer. I watched Brother Wilkening forging a strong priesthood link for himself through his loving service to those families in need—and to me in my youth.

My mother was hospitalized with a stroke. It shocked us, and I wondered why God allowed this to happen.
Despite our worries, we didn’t lose faith. We knew that she would recover. She was OK until a few months later when she had another stroke. She couldn’t walk or speak and had a hard time eating. We continued to pray for help from God.
My mom fought this condition until she passed away. I know that God was not incapable of healing her, but it was His will that she return to Him. I know that if I live my life according to the Lord’s commandments, I can be reunited with her and my family. I know that because of the Atonement of our Savior, we will be resurrected. Death is not the end for us.

My name is Modibo Diarra. In 1981 I had the honor of being the first person to be baptized a member of the Church in my native land of Mali. It is hard to believe how much my life has changed since then, and that it all happened because my dog was sick!
Mali is in northwestern Africa. The climate is hot, dry, and dusty. Although the official language is French, many people speak Bambara, a local language. Most are Moslems. Our capital, Bamako, is a medium-sized city on the Niger River. Here our family lives in typical Malian style.
Our home consists of four square walls surrounding a large open courtyard. Small rooms open onto the yard, where the shade of a tall tree is used for family gatherings. Against one wall are pens for chickens and rabbits, and a goat wanders freely, seeking food.
One day, my dog got sick, and I thought it might be a case of rabies. At that time I was a school teacher, and one of my students told me about an American veterinarian, Dr. Jerry Zaugg, who was working in Mali. I arranged for Dr. Zaugg to come to our house and asked my wife to prepare tea for him, as is the custom here. But our guest declined to drink the tea. He said it was contrary to the teachings of his church. That interested me, and I asked him many questions.
Several good things came from that visit. First, I learned that my dog did not have rabies. But, more importantly, Dr. Zaugg asked me to tutor him in French. I agreed to do so, and after each of our French lessons, Dr. Zaugg would tell me about his church, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
He invited me to attend Church services with two American families who were meeting in a house. The meetings were in English, which I did not speak well then, but the Church members gave me books in French: the Book of Mormon, the Doctrine and Covenants, and A Marvelous Work and a Wonder. The Spirit was beautiful and strong, and eventually I was converted and baptized.
After my conversion, I became a better husband and father. My wife and children could not believe how much I changed. My two oldest boys, Amadou and Gausou, began to ask about the Church and read the Book of Mormon. They were baptized in 1984. Soon they were inviting other young people to see Church films and to meet the American members who lived in Mali. We had no official branch, but I kept a history of our sacrament meetings in a green book with the word Record on the cover.
As a Church member, I received many blessings. Then came a period that greatly tried my faith. In February 1988, I lost my job as a teacher and my position as a leader in the teachers’ union. I was thwarted on all sides in my efforts to find work. My life had been dedicated to teaching. How would I now support my wife and six children? And how would I feed the eleven other relatives who, for economic reasons, were living in our home?
Everybody worked hard to bring in money. My wife took in sewing, while Amadou and Gausou used a lathe to make tools to sell. Their younger brother cleaned shoes. Even my mother opened a small business selling spices. Eventually I had to sell the family car, for which we had saved for years. I pleaded with the Lord to help me provide for my family.
During this difficult time, a package arrived from Church officials in Salt Lake City containing a simplified version of Gospel Principles, which had been translated into Bambara. They asked if I would check the translation and then translate twelve hymns. As soon as I began this work, I realized its importance and tried to do it as correctly as possible. I struggled many times to find the right word or expression. Then, at other times, my mind would open in a remarkable way—as though someone were dictating to me. (When I finished the translations, I asked them to keep most of the money they were to pay me. I considered it my tithing.) I continued to pray constantly because of our desperate situation.
Little did I guess what would happen next. In May, I received a letter from an old friend, an American doctor named James Ferwarda. I had met Dr. Ferwarda during his visit to Mali in 1985. At his request, I had accompanied him on a tour of my country. Now, to my great surprise, he was sending me a round-trip airplane ticket and inviting me to visit him at his home in the United States!
I was astonished, overwhelmed at his offer. But it seemed impossible for me to leave my family at this critical time. The Church members urged me to accept the invitation, however. Perhaps, they said, the Lord would open the way for me to go to the temple while I was in the United States. Like many members, I cherished the dream of attending the temple “someday.”
Still dumbfounded, I did go, “not knowing beforehand the things which I should do.” (See 1 Ne. 4:6.) It was incredible that someone who was barely surviving financially could make such an expensive trip. After I arrived in the United States, Dr. Ferwarda learned of my deep desire to attend the temple, which was more than 2,000 kilometers away. Although he was not a member of the Church, he told me, “I respect your opinion, and I will pay for your ticket to Salt Lake City, too.”
I visited the Church offices as soon as I arrived in Salt Lake City. I will never, ever forget that day. Elder Alexander Morrison of the Seventy ordained me an elder. Then I went to the temple and received the endowment. Everyone in the temple was so kind. The beauty and serenity there moved me deeply. I was also impressed by the young missionaries, whom I saw for the first time. Now I knew that I wanted my sons to serve missions.
The next day, I visited the offices of a humanitarian organization that sponsors a number of agricultural and educational projects in Mali. Hoping that they might need my services, I met with several administrators but returned to Mali without a job offer.
Our family’s trial of faith lasted five more months. During that time I was grateful for the temple ordinances, which strengthened me. Nevertheless, I often felt like a man who was drowning in a deep river. Daily I entreated the Lord to deliver us from our economic crisis. Then, in November, the miracle came. The humanitarian organization that I had met with in Salt Lake City sent me a telegram, notifying me that I had been hired as their new field director. I knew without a doubt that only the Lord’s hand had plucked me from the river.
My job is a challenging one, requiring negotiations with government officials, local trainers, and village chiefs. Whenever I begin something that seems impossible, someone is sure to say, “You will never accomplish that!” But I know the Lord has the power to help me. I pray, and things work out somehow. I am still not rich, but I can feed my family and the others who depend on me. And now I am able to travel to Utah on business once a year. During these visits, I go to the temple, and I am sometimes able to attend general conference.
Other things have happened, wonderful things. In 1992 my son Amadou completed his mission to French-speaking Canada. There he helped to teach and baptize many people, including African immigrants and Moslems. Now both he and Gausou are studying in the United States. Gausou, too, wants to serve a mission some day. I pray that he will, and that all the rest of my family will join the Church. I pray that all of my children will be good students and honest citizens.
I look forward to the day when the Church will be organized in Mali. As of this writing, I am the only resident member of the Church here. I sustain myself spiritually by praying in all circumstances and by reading the Book of Mormon. And I still have in my care a worn green book with the word Record on the cover. But in my heart I carry another record. I will remember forever how the Lord has poured out his blessings upon me.

My siblings and I grew up believing in God, but our family wasn’t religious. We did our own thing and didn’t bother to learn about our purpose on earth.
When a few relatives died, I wondered if I would ever see them again. I remembered my grandfather warning us not to sleep too much because when we die, we sleep forever, and it got me curious. Was death just a dark place of eternal sleep?
As my soul searched for the answer to what happens after death, a neighbour—a former bishop for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints—sent missionaries to us. They taught my sister, Fiasili, and me the restored gospel of Jesus Christ and introduced us to the plan of salvation, which finally answered all my questions about death.
Fiasili and I were soon baptised. She was 13 years old and I was 12.
Our parents were happy for us to join the Church, but they wanted no part of it. My sister and I tried our best to regularly attend church meetings, but it wasn’t easy, especially with competing influences in our home. For example, we often had to choose between going to sacrament meeting and spending Sunday at the beach with our family.
But Fiasili and I worked to strengthen each other’s testimonies. We thought that if our parents could just accept the gospel, we wouldn’t have to live in two worlds. So, we invited the missionaries to teach them. In the process, our younger brother—and many of our cousins who lived with us—joined the Church.
It took a little longer for my parents. My sister was serving a full-time mission in Suva, Fiji, when our mother finally got baptised. Our father had actually been a less active member for many years, and it was such a joy to see them both start coming to church with us.
In 2019 I was called to the Philippines Quezon City Mission. Serving there was like living a dream—I’d always loved the Filipino culture and really wanted to learn Tagalog. But my missionary experience also taught me the true nature of our heavenly parents, and when I returned home to Samoa last year, I felt a strong desire to see my family sealed to each other for time and all eternity.
We have some work to do before we can achieve that goal. My parents are still new to the gospel and continue to learn. My brother is still finding his path, exploring if a mission is in his future. Fiasili and I continue to persevere. We are determined to “press forward with a steadfastness in Christ, having a perfect brightness of hope, and a love of God and of all men” (2 Nephi 31:20), as we strive to help deepen our family’s conversion.
I sometimes wonder how my siblings and I found the gospel and have stayed committed all these years, especially without our parents. I now realise that our Heavenly Father has been guiding us all along. Even through our challenges, we have felt His hand in each of our lives, and I know that—just as He did for the Jaredites in Ether 2:7—He will not rest before we have reached the beautiful shores of that promised land prepared for us.

As I read about my ancestors, I learned that they apparently had the typical Kirschbaum trait of a quiet, good-natured disposition—except when aggravated. I read with amusement about a local notary who apparently played a mean trick on one of my ancestors. The man later found himself shut up in his own house by a cartload of “natural fertilizer” that was delivered to his doorstep by Herr Kirschbaum himself—the mayor.

Several years ago, a student disclosed a problem to me that they felt should be addressed with their bishop. However, they said that they needed to get the problem resolved first before they met with him. This noble student was trying to take responsibility for their problem (which is admirable), but they got it backwards. Seeking help before the problem is fixed is much more noble and effective than hoping we can fix it on our own and not sharing our burden. I encourage you to test this principle by picking a problem you have and asking for help in solving it. See what happens.

When my husband’s salary was suddenly reduced by 30 percent several years ago, I began to think of ways I could help my family meet our expenses.
I had often organized birthday parties—including dressing up as a clown, providing games, and performing puppet shows—for my two children, and relatives had asked me why I didn’t turn this into a job for other people’s celebrations. Now seemed like a great time to turn their suggestion into action.
I began putting up posters at local businesses. Shortly thereafter Jazmín the Clown had her first job.
It wasn’t a smooth start, however. For the first six months, most of the parties I received requests for were held on Sunday. Everyone, it seemed, needed a clown on the Sabbath! While I had promised the Lord I would never work on the Sabbath, it was discouraging to have to reject work when I needed it so much.
On one occasion I received an offer from the city government to help at the celebration for the Day of the Child, which was to be held on Sunday. The officials offered to pay me well, but I couldn’t break my promise. Some of my friends told me I would never be successful if I didn’t accept work on the Sabbath, but I knew I couldn’t disappoint the Lord. In the face of such opposition, I tried to focus on the promises He has made to those who honor the Sabbath (see D&C 59:9–13).
In time, circumstances began to improve. Now, some years later, I have lots of work on Saturdays and weekdays. I have even been able to persuade some of my clients to change their parties from Sunday to Saturday.
Initially, I wondered if I would be successful when it seemed that so many people treated Sunday like any other day of the week. But now I understand that when we show the Lord we are willing to keep His commandments and do our part, He will provide a way for us to do so.

We have mentioned that Brigham Young had his tests. So did Heber C. Kimball—he was tried to the core. I believe there are those even in the Church who would say in their hearts that the test of Abraham is too much; that a loving God would not require such a thing of any man, least of all someone as faithful as Abraham. Those who have such thoughts had better think again. Modern revelation indicates at least three times that each of us who seeks eternal life must one day be tried, even as Abraham.38 I put the question once to President Hugh B. Brown, when we were in Israel: Why was Abraham commanded to go up on that mountain (traditionally Mount Moriah in Jerusalem) and offer as a sacrifice his only hope for the promised posterity? President Brown wisely replied, “Abraham needed to learn something about Abraham.”39 By being tested, all of us will one day know how much our hearts are really set on the kingdom of God.

Heber C. Kimball’s test was of that kind. A pure and humble man, at the restoration of the principle of plural marriage he was commanded—and that’s the word, not counselled—to take a second wife; and to make it worse, in that soul-wrenching setting he was told he must not yet confide this to his own companion, Vilate, whom he loved with a pure love, and with whom he had shared his spiritual life since their marriage, and particularly from the time they entered the Church. At the time of his baptism a voice had spoken to him, giving him some insight into his origins, his genealogy, and also whispering of things yet future. One thing he was told by the Spirit even then was that he and his wife would never be separated.40 Now, years later, he was being asked by a prophet to become separate in a sense—to enter plural marriage.

Filled with anxiety, Heber spent much of his nights pacing the floor. His dear Vilate begged him to tell her what was wrong, but because the Prophet had told him not to he couldn’t and wouldn’t. Finally, she in faith and desperate need went to her room and poured out her soul to God. “What is it, O Lord? How can I help my beloved?” And the Lord saw fit to give her a wonderful manifestation, for she saw and heard unspeakable things. She returned to her husband, her face aglow, and said, “Heber, what you kept from me the Lord has shown to me.” She covenanted to honor the principle with him. Heber, who had been supplicating the Father at the same time as she had, embraced her with comparable joy.

Heber passed the test. Later the Prophet, in tears, took him and his wife Vilate upstairs in his own store and blessed them personally and sealed upon them blessings that only come to those who have come up through affliction.41

As a young BYU student, I learned a little something about staying on course when heading home. One Christmas Eve, my brother and I were driving home to Kansas, when we learned that a huge snowstorm was coming our way. We pulled out a map, found a detour, and headed into parts unknown. We ran right into the blizzard!
To make matters worse, late that night as we were creeping along an obscure highway in blinding snow, our old car quit. We were stranded. And we had absolutely no idea where we were.
Eventually we caught a ride to the nearest town, where we found that we were still hours from home and marooned in Last Chance, Colorado. There was only one thing to do. We called home for help, and our father left in the middle of the night to rescue us. By the next afternoon we were all safely home. Our father had done for us what we could not do for ourselves.

It was another dreary, lifeless, and boring day. For the last little while, everything had been the same, and though I tried to be happy, I was growing bored and restless. It was the middle of the COVID-19 pandemic and my country was in lockdown, so we were all encouraged to stay home until further notice.
Every day when I looked at myself in the mirror, I saw an emptiness there. It could have been because I couldn’t see my friends or because I wasn’t able to work or support my family at the time. I had just graduated from college and wanted to become a teacher, but I needed to pass an examination that had been postponed because of the pandemic.
I felt unhappy, like something was missing in my heart, but I couldn’t completely figure out what it was or even how I could find it.
One night, my cousin was browsing through a book. It was dark blue and entitled “Ang Aklat ni Mormon.” She had recently gone with her friend to something called “family home evening” and had been talking to missionaries on the phone a few nights a week ever since. On this particular night, she was talking on the phone while skimming the book when suddenly she asked me if I could help her answer a question from one of the missionaries.
“Seriously?” I thought. “You’re the one being asked, so why do I have to help?”
But I gave in and asked her what the question was. And she said, “Ano daw layunin mo sa buhay?” (“What do you think is your purpose in life?”)
My heart started beating so fast when I heard the question.
“This is it! This is what I’ve been looking for. This is what’s been missing in my heart,” I thought.
I stared at my cousin, smiling, and borrowed the phone to answer the missionary’s question. I told him that I believed that the purpose of life is to be happy, to enjoy life, and to serve others and be kind to them. And he agreed!
He and his companion also asked if they could teach my cousin and me more about the gospel, and we said yes. My family was taught by missionaries when I was young. My mother is a member but had been less active for most of my life, but after the conversation on the phone, I wanted to learn more.
Every time the missionaries shared something about the gospel, I felt joy in my heart, particularly in learning about the plan of salvation and the promises of Heavenly Father and the Savior. Eventually we went to church, and the members welcomed us with their warm hearts and helping hands.
I could feel in my heart that I was taking the right path. And after a few months, I was baptized by a close friend who had helped me move forward in the gospel.
Making a lot of changes in my life after joining the Church was hard. And my life is far from being easy or happy all the time. But as I have had new opportunities to serve and deepen my testimony, I have come to know with certainty that everlasting joy is indeed found in this gospel.
I feel joy in my heart whenever I read the scriptures, hear divine inspiration from our prophets and apostles, and witness the testimonies of the members around me. I’ve found my answer to the question those missionaries asked over the phone: the purpose of life is to be a better person for God, for myself, and for my family, all while striving to return to Him. And this knowledge has brought me the exact happiness I’ve been looking for. Continuing to serve people and take my family to church is now my top priority, because I want them to experience true joy.
President Russell M. Nelson taught, “When the focus of our lives is on God’s plan of salvation … and Jesus Christ and His gospel, we can feel joy regardless of what is happening—or not happening—in our lives.”1
I too testify that true happiness can be found only in following Jesus Christ. Every opportunity I have had in the gospel of Jesus Christ has filled my soul with joy, especially as I have allowed these experiences to help me grow closer to Him.
Before the COVID-19 pandemic, I had been happy with my life. But the true joy the gospel brings is different from happiness. Even in the pandemic, the gospel brings me peace and shows me the purpose of life, which helps me keep moving forward with faith and hope.
I finally found my missing piece. I needed the joy that following Jesus Christ brings to my heart and my life, as we all do.

Only six days before the accident, the Volkmans became members of the Church. Sage was only five then, but she anxiously awaited the time when she could be baptized. Her parents had investigated the Church for many years and found it hard to be baptized. “Sage is responsible for our baptism,” says Sage’s dad, Michael. He says she kept asking questions about God he couldn’t answer, and she wanted to go to church to find answers. He took Sage to a nearby LDS church because he had received a testimony of the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon 10 years earlier when a friend had given one to him.
When Michael took Sage and her brother, Avery, camping that weekend after his family joined the Church, he had no idea how his family would be changed. He and Avery went fishing early one morning, and Michael had gone back to the camper to check on Sage, who was asleep. Five minutes later, the fishermen saw smoke rising from their campsite and they raced back. Sage’s dad had to pull her out of the burning camper from under melting sleeping bags. He resuscitated her, but he was so frantic he broke one of her ribs as he pumped on her chest. Michael was badly burned and had his hands and eyes in bandages as the ambulance rushed Sage to the hospital.
Sage had numerous third- and fourth-degree burns, and her nose and one ear were melted off. Doctors had to amputate her fingers because they were so badly burned. She was in a coma. One lung had collapsed. But, to the surprise of all the medical staff, Sage survived the night.
A few days later, Sage was moved to the burn unit of a New Mexico hospital. Again, there was little hope she’d make it through the night—only a 10 percent chance—but she survived and improved over the next two days. Then pneumonia struck. Sage’s condition deteriorated, and two weeks later she was flown to a burn institute in Texas, still in a coma. The doctors there said her survival through the night was a “big if.” They also said if she survived she would have vision loss, hearing loss, brain damage, chronic lung problems, and she would be unable to walk. Anything short of that would be a miracle.
Sage pulled through again with the help of numerous priesthood blessings. She also had the aid of loving parents and skilled doctors. One priesthood blessing she received promised full recovery and that she would be safe with her Savior until she was better. After a six-week coma, the blessing was fulfilled, and Sage was finally well enough to go home on December 23, 1986, after three months in hospitals.
Hundreds of letters, posters, stuffed animals, and lots of love came pouring in from all those who had been touched by Sage’s story. Sage’s life and positive attitude have touched many for good. Many of those who wrote told of how the story of Sage in the August 1989 Ensign had comforted or converted them. One missionary in Spain wrote, “I have nothing to be sad about. I now realize how small my trials are.”
Thirteen years, 64 surgeries, and lots and lots of friends later, Sage is doing better than ever. Defying all the doctors’ expectations, Sage walks, talks, sees, drives, and does so much more than that. She’s even going to take a kick-boxing class. She says it was her constant reliance upon the Lord which has allowed her to become who she is.
Sage doesn’t think her trials have been too hard to handle. “There’s tons of kids who have it worse,” she says. “It humbles you to see other people with problems.” Sage tries to help those who have it worse than she does. She volunteers at a camp for children who are burn victims and is on the board of directors of the Phoenix Foundation, an organization which helps burn victims.
A lot like many other LDS teens, Sage worries about school, works hard, plays hard, and has trouble waking up for early-morning seminary. She attends a high school where she is the only LDS student; she has lots of friends from her ward and her school.
Sage’s goal is to become a doctor. She plans to go to Ricks College in Idaho after she graduates from high school and then go into medicine. “It’s something that fascinates me,” she says. Why else would she read that huge medical book before she goes to sleep each night?
Despite, or perhaps because of, all she’s been through, Sage’s motto is “Never forget who you are, but always remember what you could become.” She says, “You shouldn’t deny what you are. If you do your best, then who knows the possibilities of what you could be and who you could be.”
“That’s kind of like me,” Sage adds, “because I could try to become someone else and deny this whole ordeal that I’ve been through, but I haven’t. I want to strive to be the best that I could possibly be. And I want to be a doctor. And there’s nothing that I can’t do so far.”
Sage knows she can do it with Heavenly Father’s help. She also wants to help as many people as she can along the way. “That’s all I can offer—my help and my testimony,” she says. “This is the true Church, and I know I wouldn’t be here today without it. I couldn’t even begin to count how many blessings I’ve received.”
Sage may still have physical scars, but her bishop, Bradley Greer, says, “Sage has got this personality about her, and you become oblivious to how scarred she is.” Many surgeries have restored Sage’s skin, nose, and ear, though not her fingers, since the accident 13 years ago. But the gospel has done its part in healing her pain too, she says, and it continues to uplift her each day.

Liriel was baptized at age 14 after being introduced to the Church by her older sister, Patricia, who lived in another part of the country.

“She invited us to church while visiting home one time,” Liriel says. “The people were spiritual and neatly dressed. They all had standards that I liked. I was very happy. I felt the power of the Holy Ghost working in my heart. I was hungry for the gospel of Jesus Christ.”

Not long after their introduction to the Church, Liriel and her younger sister Priscila were baptized. Their mother later followed. Liriel and Priscila jumped wholeheartedly into the Young Women program.

“Lots of times we were in the same class, and we were very united,” Liriel says. “We’d reach one Personal Progress goal and then talk about working toward our next goal.”

Before long, Liriel had earned the Young Womanhood Recognition—the medallion she would wear in front of millions. To her, the medallion represented her desire to follow the Savior.

“Earning my Young Women medallion was an accomplishment,” she says. “To me it means that I am spiritually prepared for temple marriage and a family.”

Before I discuss principles of good measurement and apply them to our measurements of ourselves and of others, I would like to share an experience my wife and I had with making measurements and some of the lessons we learned in the process.

Early in my BYU career, while sitting in my office, the phone rang, and on the other line was someone I both admired and respected. He indicated that his organization, a National Football League team, had a job opportunity for me. One of my passions is the development of statistical methods for sports and human performance, so it was a job that I had dreamed about, and it was also both professionally rewarding and financially attractive. Indeed, this was a job that I felt completely prepared for, and all of the details seemed to point me in the direction of accepting the position. My wife, Wendy, and I discussed the job opportunity and felt that we should at the very least explore the possibility. We made all the arrangements to fly to the destination city. After a three-day, somewhat grueling experience with high-powered executives, we returned home with far more questions than we had answers.

With the offer in hand, my wife and I weighed the evidence we had gathered over the three-day trip by creating a pros and cons list. We were meticulous about making our list. Our measurement of the pros included financial considerations, opportunities to meet new people, and job-growth opportunities. Our measurement of the cons included moving away from family, the inability to teach amazing students, and no longer working with valued colleagues at BYU. As the day came for us to report our decision, Wendy and I gathered at the door as I prepared to leave for work. We had been praying, fasting, and gathering all the data we could gather, and there we were with lists of pros and cons that were identically long and equally compelling. It appeared to be a statistical tie. We were both exhausted by the process of deciding, so I suggested that the optimal way to make a decision in the case of a statistical tie was—yep, you guessed it—to toss a coin!

While I fully expected my wife to remind me that not everything had to be decided using optimal decision theory and that this really was one more piece of evidence suggesting that I was as nerdy as my profession suggested I was, I was shocked to hear her say, “Okay.” She quickly grabbed a coin from the telephone stand by our back door and flipped it. I just as quickly grabbed the coin out of the air and said, “Okay, but none of this best-out-of-three business—one flip of the coin! Heads, we go. Tails, we stay.” She agreed, and I flipped the coin. I don’t know how many of you have had moments in your life when everything slowed way down, when everything seemed to go in slow motion. This was one of those moments. I saw every rotation of that coin as it went up and then ever so slowly—flip, flip, flip—headed to the ground. With anxious eyes and nervous hearts, we watched as the coin struck the floor, then hit the back door, then rattled around in a corner near the door, and then came to rest directly vertical against the wall!

Now, I’m a statistician, and I’ve flipped enough coins to know that this event has zero probability! We laughed (and cried) together as we realized that we weren’t going to get off that easily. We had work left to do, and the Lord was not going to allow us to miss out on a growth opportunity. We asked the potential employer for a little more time and had one of the most powerful weeks of our married lives together as a trip to the temple and additional fervent prayer and fasting helped us measure weightier evidence than anything we had on our list. We had a sweet and precious learning experience that the Lord had in store for us—on His timescale.