Gospel Story Finder

The essential nature of witnesses was brought forcibly to my mind some years ago while seeking permission from a man for his wife and children to be baptized. Our missionaries had taught the family of the divinity of Christ, the sacred appearance of God the Father and His Beloved Son to the Prophet Joseph Smith in 1820, and the Restoration of the true Church upon the earth. To each point, the missionaries bore fervent testimony, and the Holy Ghost confirmed to the mother and children that it was all true. They wished to be baptized.
The father, however, was skeptical. He felt no such spiritual confirmation. Long-held beliefs and traditions filled his mind with doubt. I met with him to discuss his misgivings and the desire of his wife and children to be baptized. Though he did not wish to keep them from making their own choices, he was deeply troubled by the conflict he felt between his beliefs and family traditions and this message of the Restoration. As our conversation drew to a close, I bore my witness to him. It included my testimony of what the missionaries had taught. When I was explaining the divine nature of this Church, the Lord’s words from the Doctrine and Covenants came into my mind, and I testified that this is “the only true and living church upon the face of the whole earth” (D&C 1:30).
My friend was startled. This declaration troubled him, and in disbelief he said: “How can you possibly claim such a thing? My church has many more members than yours; my church is much larger and more influential than yours; and furthermore, the history and traditions of my church go back much further than Joseph Smith. How can you possibly claim that yours is the only true church?”
Now for the rest of the story. You recall that my friend asked: “How can you possibly claim such a thing? How can you possibly claim that yours is the only true church?”
The answer came, not from me but through me: “I am not claiming it,” I said. “I am quoting it. Jesus Christ said it. Don’t argue with me. If you wish to take issue, pray and talk with Heavenly Father about it.”
The conversation came to a close, he gave permission for his family members to be baptized, and we parted.
Some weeks later, as I was leaving a stake conference, I saw two men coming toward me, shouldering their way through the crowd. One of them was the same man of whom I have spoken. The first thought that crossed my mind was, “Oh no, here comes an argument!”
As he approached, he extended his hand and asked, “Do you remember me?”
“I certainly do,” I said, “and I want you to know that this is still the only true and living Church.”
Before more could be said, his handshake tightened and he replied: “I know! I have prayed about it as you said. The Lord has told me by the power of His Spirit that it is all true. I was baptized last weekend and ordained a priest. Today I am baptizing my friend here, for he also knows it is true.”

During his second day of freedom, while he was walking down a street, he was interrupted by someone tapping him on his shoulder. Turning, he faced John Klusak, his chief accuser. “He was much frightened and begged me to forgive him as he did not know at that time what he was doing.” Klusak was convinced that “the Lord had punished him very severely,” said the elder, because the man’s only son was dying of smallpox and his mother had become gravely ill. The elder forgave him but said that the troubled man would have to ask God for His forgiveness. The son died two days later.
Because newspapers carried his picture and said such evil things about Mormons, Elder Biesinger could not do effective missionary work anymore in Bohemia. While waiting for money from mission headquarters in Bern to pay for transportation out of Prague, he sent Church literature to all of the friends he had made while in prison. Then, on June 21, 1884, before leaving the city by evening train, he baptized and confirmed Anthon Just, his other accuser, in a nearby river.

In late 1987, after a bloodless military coup, the new Fijian government declared it illegal for public transport to operate on Sunday. This posed little problem for people who belong to the country’s dominant Christian religion—there is a church in every village. But many Latter-day Saints live far from their branch or ward headquarters.
Vilisi and Fai Ucunibaravi and their six children decided that they would walk the twelve kilometers from their home to the Nausori chapel each Sunday. “Some people would laugh at us, and they wouldn’t stop to give us rides,” says Sister Ucunibaravi. “But that was all right. Our hearts were there before we left home.”

In May of this year I had occasion to visit the recently restored Lincoln Cottage, a house about three miles north of the White House, where Abraham Lincoln lived with his family for five months a year during 1862, 1863, and 1864. Each day he rode, usually on horseback, from the White House to this sanctuary, where he could escape from the hot and muggy weather, from the crowds seeking his personal assistance, and from the gloom of the recent death of his son Willie. He accomplished much important work in this “Cottage,” not the least of which was his drafting of the Emancipation Proclamation.

Late one hot summer evening in 1862, Lincoln was at home in the Cottage trying to calm his mind on the eve of a significant Civil War battle about to be fought on the outskirts of Washington, D.C. He was also relieved to be momentarily free of an especially persistent woman who had called on him in the White House that day seeking a promotion for her husband.

Nevertheless, late that evening another private citizen, having been aided in finding the president by a Treasury Department employee, was admitted to see Mr. Lincoln. His story was poignant and wrenching. A Union officer from New Hampshire had been wounded in recent fighting. The officer’s wife and her friend had both made the journey from New Hampshire to locate the wounded soldier and help him recover. As they journeyed by boat back to Washington, the boat collided with another boat at night and 73 passengers drowned, including both ladies. The wounded soldier barely escaped with his life.

The president’s visitor had returned to Washington to locate and return the bodies of these ladies to New Hampshire. He sought access to the area of the disaster, which had been closed because of the pending battle. The Secretary of War had gruffly refused his request, so he was now before the president seeking intervention:

Without making any interruptions, Lincoln listened to the [visitor’s] long and tragic story. At the end, however, . . . instead of displaying his legendary generosity, Lincoln reportedly said, “Am I to have no rest? Is there no hour or spot when or where I may escape this constant call? Why do you follow me out here with such business as this? Why do you not go to the War-office, where they have charge of all this matter of papers and transportation?” The embarrassed [visitor] tried to argue his case with the exhausted president, but to no avail. . . . [He was] dismissed curtly and sent back to the city without any relief.

Lincoln later appeared at the visitor’s hotel apologizing. He confessed, “I was a brute last night.”

Another version of the story reports:

[The president said:] “I fear, Sir, that my conduct has been such as to make it appear that I had forgotten my humanity.” . . .
. . . The two men sat down and talked as familiarly as old friends. Great tears rolled down the President’s careworn face as he heard the story of the shipwreck. . . .
. . . He then wrote a mandatory order to [the Secretary of War], requiring him to furnish a pass, transportation to the scene of the disaster, and all necessary assistance to find the bodies. . . .
. . . The result was that after cruising along the shore in the vicinity of the wreck, and after much inquiry among the inhabitants, the place where the bodies washed ashore and the place of interment were discovered, and they were brought home to their native New-Hampshire.

Several years ago the former Director of Admissions here at BYUH and I were on a trip to New Zealand, Australia and Fiji, recruiting future students from these areas. It was a particularly lengthy trip conducting interviews with students and parents. Firesides in the evening made for a very long day, eventually going on to three weeks. As we neared the end of our recruiting with Fiji as our last stop, we had planned three days on the island — two days in Suva and one day in Nandi.

By the time we had concluded our interviews in Suva, we just wanted to go home. We missed home, our families, and especially our own beds. When we arrived in Nandi we had only one appointment. Quietly amongst ourselves we were hoping the interview would not happen so we could go directly to the airport. The appointment was set for 11:00 in the morning.

When we arrived at the small little chapel in Nandi the gates were closed and locked. We waited for some fifteen minutes and it appeared no one would arrive. We quickly packed our gear, anxiously running to the car. As we headed towards the main road from the chapel, we noticed a young girl and an elderly woman walking with large handbags at their side. I believe both of us hoped it was not the young lady and we tried to focus more on getting to the airport, as we stopped to merge onto the highway, simultaneously together we looked at each other and said, "do you think she is the young lady, we both said "no it isn't her!"

But, the urgency to inquire was too great, I slowly rolled the window down from the driver's seat and inquired with the young lady, "Excuse me, are you here for the interview with Brigham Young University Hawaii?" She appeared perplexed looking back at the elderly woman, stating, "I am sorry sir I did not hear you!" I again repeated my question. With that she beamed in her reply, "Are you from the BYUH campus?" I replied yes! She said, "Yes sir, I am here for the interview!" We drove back to the small chapel, somewhat disappointed in having delayed our departure.

When we returned to the chapel, to our amazement the gates were unlocked and the chapel doors opened. We walked in, being welcomed by an elderly brother, a custodian of the chapel. He apologized for being late, but hoped it did not create a problem; we assured him it didn't because no one was here to be interviewed.

Well, as we sat down with the young lady, we both indicated we can make this interview go fast, with the simple question of why do you want to come to BYUH? I want you all to know we two were somewhat assured anything she would say would not convince us she could come to BYUH.

She began by apologizing to us for being late to her appointment. Then she started to weep. "My mother and I have been walking for three days and nights to come to this appointment. I am the youngest of my siblings and my mother has always desired for me to attend university, but not just any university, but Brigham Young University Hawaii to be with the Saints of the Church."

She paused, and wept some more, always apologizing. As she paused, my companion asked her why did she and her mother walk. She appeared a little embarrassed by the question, but, quietly replied, "We could not afford to pay for bus fare and my mom did not want me to miss this appointment, so we started walking three days ago, sleeping on the side of the road when we could. She didn't want to miss the appointment like last year when BYUH came to Nandi. We inquired did you walk then? She replied, "Yes. We missed the visit of the two recruiters by half-an-hour, so my mother wanted to start earlier."

We two found ourselves looking down on the floor of the chapel, holding back our tears, because we were complaining about our discomfort and wanting to go home, when we forgot the reason why we were on the Lord's errand.

In our mind we could think of no one more worthy than her to be within the fellowship of this University. I heard a quiet rebuke from an example of the apostle's story returning to Jacob's well with the Samarian woman in John 4:31-34, and I read:
In the mean while his disciples prayed him, saying, Master, eat. But he said unto them, I have meat to eat that ye know not of. Therefore said the disciples one to another, Hath any man brought him ought to eat? Jesus saith unto them, My meat is to do the will of him that sent me, and to finish his work.

Bang! Crash! The broomstick hit the garbage can lid such a blow that Steven fell to the ground. “You’re not supposed to hit so hard. I’m not a real dragon, you know.”
“Sorry, Steve,” Mike said. “I know you’re not, but I wish you were. I mean—I just wish there were still dragons around someplace.”
“Me too,” said Steven. “I’d slay them all and rescue people.”
“And when we got back to town they’d have a big parade for us,” suggested Mike.
“And root beer floats,” Steven added.
“But it’s no use,” Mike complained. “There’s nobody to rescue anymore. No dragons. No maidens in distress. Nothing exciting to do.”
“Steven! Are you out there?”
“Yes, Mom.”
“I need something at the store. Will you go for me please?”
“OK, Mom, in a minute.”
“That gives me an idea!” Mike said, jumping up from the grass. “There’re still people to rescue. Your mom needs to be rescued right now.”
“That’s not rescuing! I go to the store all the time.”
“Yes, but this is different. Now we’ll go looking for chances to help people just like knights did in the olden days!”
“OK,” said Steve, catching his friend’s enthusiasm. “And if it’s a lady, we can give her a red rose from one of our bushes. Knights love to do stuff like that.”
“Thanks, boys,” said Steven’s mother when they returned from the store. “I really needed these things in a hurry. You saved my day.”
“Well,” said Steven, “that’s our job.”
“Here you are, madam. This red rose is for you to remember us by,” Mike added. “Now we have more knight work to do.”
“Night work?” asked Steven’s mother incredulously, as she put the rose in some water. “But it’s only two o’clock in the afternoon! However, I’m grateful for your help whatever time you’re going by.”
“It was our pleasure, madam, and all in a day’s work,” Mike said, bowing extravagantly.
The boys were pleased as they ran outside. “Now what?” they said, laughing because it sounded like one voice. Looking around for something else to do, they noticed that Mrs. Thompson’s yard was covered with leaves. A half hour later there was not a single fallen leaf to be seen, and a red rose was tucked into Mrs. Thompson’s mailbox. “She’ll never know it was us, “Mike said, grinning with pleasure.
Just then the two knights saw something that alarmed them. Little Jimmy Black had wandered into the street, chasing a big beach ball. And a car was coming around the corner only a block away. “Mike! Quick!” shouted Steven. “You get the ball. But be careful!” The two boys ran at top speed down the sidewalk. Looking carefully, they walked quickly into the street.
Mike grabbed the ball, and Steven picked up Jimmy.
Just as the boys returned to the curb, the car whizzed past and Mrs. Black ran out of her house. “Boys,” she cried, “I can’t thank you enough! I saw Jimmy in the street, but by the time I got here, you already had him out of the path of that car. I’m so grateful to you.”
“That’s all right. You don’t have to thank us. We like doing this kind of work.” The two boys smiled.
Just then Mike’s mother called from his house, “Mike! Steven! Could you come here a minute?”
As the two boys climbed the porch steps, they saw a tray and began to smile. “I thought you might like a treat,” said Mike’s mother.
“Root beer floats!” said Steven. “My favorite!”
“Mine too!” Mike agreed. “Being a real, live knight is lots more fun than fighting pretend dragons.”
When Mike’s mother came out to pick up the tray and glasses, the boys were already gone. But their empty glasses were neatly placed on the table, and beside them lay a beautiful red rose.

I would like to share one of my favorite stories from the Book of Mormon. It is the story of Alma and Amulek, as recorded in Alma 8-14, 34. These few chapters relate their amazing experiences in Ammonihah. My life has been different from Amulek's, yet when I read these scriptures, I recognize the change Amulek experienced, which was possible because Alma was willing to change his life and focus on preaching the gospel. I can feel the strength of the testimonies Alma and Amulek shared and the power of their faith.

Amulek was a descendant of Lehi. He was a hardworking, rich, and well-known man in Ammonihah. He had done his family history research and knew he was a descendant of Lehi and Joseph of Egypt. He tells us that although he had opportunities to embrace the gospel, he turned away from them. Nevertheless, God knows all things, including what's in our hearts. God knew that Amulek would care for the prophet Alma. He sent an angel to Amulek to touch his heart that he would humble himself and help Alma. Amulek cared for him for some time. Alma taught and blessed Amulek and his large family. God commanded Alma to take Amulek with him to call the people of Ammonihah to repentance. He accompanied Alma as he preached, supporting and sustaining and befriending Alma; teaching gospel principles and testifying of the Savior and His Atonement; witnessing the horror of death by fire of righteous women and children, perhaps even the deaths of his own family; suffering in prison; exercising faith; and speaking out as a second witness to the things Alma prophesied.

What I've learned from Amulek is that people's hearts change, but the principles of the gospel don't change. Amulek was willing to change his life. He accepted Alma as a prophet and willingly accompanied him to preach and prophesy to the people in Ammonihah. He gave up his wealth and prominence in the community to teach the gospel of Jesus Christ. He taught that faith can help us break down even the biggest barriers, the importance of making repentance part of our lives now, the value of praying over every part of our lives and our families, the Savior's Atonement, the Resurrection, and much more.

Waimate and Heeni Anaru yearned to be part of the first group to travel to the temple. Yet the task seemed impossible because of the family’s poverty and the required cost of 1,200 New Zealand pounds for the trip—a hefty sum. They would need a miracle.
For years, the Anaru family followed the prophet’s counsel and gathered their genealogical records. Those records then sat in stacks while the Anarus waited for a miracle to occur. Their son, Wiwini, knew of his parents’ faith: “Mother never ever despaired that she would [not] someday kneel with Father at a temple altar.”
A miracle did occur. Waimate won a contract from the New Zealand government for a large land-development project. His income from this project provided sufficient cash paid in advance to cover the cost of the trip to Hawaii. Waimate and Heeni overcame their fear of ocean travel and journeyed to Hawaii with a group of 14 Saints in May 1920. They received their endowments and were sealed. The impossible had happened.

Several months ago, a stake president and I visited a sister in his stake and her young adult son. After years away from the Church, wandering difficult and unfriendly paths, she had returned. During our visit, we asked her why she had come back.
“I had made a mess of my life,” she said, “and I knew where I needed to be.”
I then asked her what she had learned in her journey.
With some emotion, she shared that she had learned that she needed to attend church long enough to break the habit of not coming and that she needed to stay until it was where she wanted to be. Her return was not easy, but as she exercised faith in the Father’s plan, she felt the Spirit return.
And then she added, “I have learned for myself that God is good and that His ways are better than mine.”

Another example
Upon graduation from BYU-Idaho, my son Brady and his wife Erika decided to go to China and teach English for six months until they could begin their masters programs in Colorado. Upon arrival in China, they were met by their Chinese sponsor who took them out to dinner, then to their apartment where they were left on their own. School wouldn't be starting for another two weeks so they had a lot of free time. Their sponsor said if they needed anything, she would be happy to show them. However, they didn't want to be a nuisance nor did they know what they needed, so they remained at home.

The first several days were very lonely because they couldn't speak the language which hindered them getting around to do some sightseeing. They had a difficult time buying groceries because they couldn't read the labels, and the food they did have, they didn't know how to cook. The help they received from the Chinese teachers seemed like just enough to get by. Needless to say, they were feeling pretty alone and isolated. They began to wonder what in the world they were doing there. They also began praying that the Lord would help them and bless them to know what to do.

One day, a knock came on their door. It was a woman from Australian and her two daughters who had previously taught at the Chinese school. The family had heard that Brady and Erika had just moved in and felt impressed that they should come by to introduce themselves and give them an introduction to living in China from a foreigner's perspective. The daughters were so happy and willing to teach them how to get around and what to do. It was somewhat of an instant friendship. Was it a chance meeting or a coincidence? They didn't think so and neither do I. You see, Brady served his mission in Australia and so there was somewhat of an immediate link with them. This family helped them to be able to get out and use the transportation system, find their way around, shop (even finding a Wal-Mart), and find food to eat and actually figure out how to cook it. They were soon ready to begin the school semester. The most interesting part of it all was that the Australian family was preparing to move to a different area and only remained in town a couple more days. They didn't need to come over and introduce themselves but something led them to do so. It was just a short time after this that another couple arrived from Canada. Brady and Erika were able to pass on their knowledge and befriend this couple. If you ask them, they will tell you that they truly felt the Lord's hand reach down into their lives and bless them as a direct answer to their prayers. In return, they knew they were to be His hands in helping someone else.

Will you join me as we look in on a typical Latter-day Saint family offering prayers unto the Lord? Father, mother, and each of the children kneel, bow their heads, and close their eyes. A sweet spirit of love, unity, and peace fills the home. As father hears his tiny son pray unto God that his dad will do the right things and be obedient to the Lord’s bidding, do you think that such a father would find it difficult to honor the prayer of his precious son? As a teenage daughter hears her sweet mother plead unto the Lord that her daughter will be inspired in the selection of her companions, that she will prepare herself for a temple marriage, don’t you believe that such a daughter will seek to honor this humble, pleading petition of her mother, whom she so dearly loves? When father, mother, and each of the children earnestly pray that the fine sons in the family will live worthily that they may, in due time, receive a call to serve as ambassadors of the Lord in the mission fields of the Church, don’t we begin to see how such sons grow to young manhood with an overwhelming desire to serve as missionaries? I am sure that family prayer motivated a letter written some years ago by a young Latter-day Saint girl attending a Colorado high school. The students had been asked to prepare a letter to be written to a great man of their choice. Many addressed their letters to well-known athletes, to a noted astronaut, to the president of the United States, and to other celebrities. This young lady, however, addressed her letter to her father, and in the letter she stated: “I have decided to write this letter to you, Dad, because you are the greatest man that I have ever known. The overwhelming desire of my heart is that I might so live that I might have the privilege of being beside you and Mother and other members of the family in the celestial kingdom.” That father never received a more cherished letter.

One response that really touched me came from Amanda Dahl, a BYU-Idaho student from Flower Mound, Texas. Her post said this: "A few weeks ago[,] my roommate and I got in a fight. The [S]pirit left immediately as I was saying rude things to her through text and she was getting more and more upset at me over text message. That afternoon I apologized and asked for forgiveness of the things I said. For the next few days I was trying to come up with a way to make our relationship better. I made her a name map. I wrote her name in the middle and wrote positive things about her all around it. This helped me think of positive thoughts toward her and helped my roommate feel that I cared about her. As I keep serving my roommates[,] the [S]pirit is brought to the home[,] and the love of Jesus Christ dwells in our apartment." I commend Amanda for recognizing that she needed to do something about the situation, for having the humility necessary to say she was sorry and then finding a meaningful way to serve her roommate. What a great example!

But in the days that followed, both of us felt unsettled—not about marrying each other but about the ring. Let me explain.
In the weeks leading up to our engagement, Shelley and I had spent significant time talking about how we wanted to raise our family and what we wanted our marriage to be like. One of the things at the center of that discussion was our determination to always follow the prophet.
Two months before we were engaged, we listened to lots of talks at the October 1976 general conference reinforcing the principles of self-reliance. This was a topic that President Spencer W. Kimball (1895–1985) and others had been consistently teaching for several years. Both Shelley and I had grown up knowing the importance of growing a garden, having a supply of food, and being generally prepared. But in that general conference, the theme of preparation seemed especially prevalent. Some speakers made reference to the Teton Dam flood that had occurred in June. Among them was Barbara B. Smith (1922–2010), the Relief Society general president, who emphasized the importance of self-reliance—specifically, acquiring a year’s supply of food, as was counseled at the time.1 President Kimball, in the closing session of the conference, reminded Latter-day Saints of the scripture in Luke 6:46, where the Savior says, “Why call ye me, Lord, Lord, and do not the things which I say?” President Kimball then exhorted the Saints to let the messages of conference follow them into their “homes and … future lives.”2
After our engagement, as Shelley and I contemplated the beginning of our marriage and family life, these messages were ringing in our ears. Unbeknownst to each other, both of us were thinking about how to start home storage for our family. To obey the counsel of that time, we needed to start acquiring a year’s supply of food. But how were we supposed to do it? We were students—and would be for years to come—and didn’t have a lot of money. The Holy Ghost gave both of us, separately, the same answer: we needed to sell the engagement ring.
But how was I supposed to ask Shelley to do that? I had just given her the ring. What would she think about my asking her to sell it so we could buy some oats and flour and rice? Meanwhile, she was worrying too. What would I think, she wondered, if she were to approach me about selling the ring I had picked out for her? Would it hurt my feelings?
But the prompting each of us had felt was too strong to ignore, and the more each of us thought about it, the more glaring that diamond ring became. When Shelley raised the subject a few days after Christmas, I was relieved that she had arrived at the same conclusion I had. In many ways, it was a tremendous confirmation to both of us about the choice of whom we were going to marry. To know that our priorities and values were in sync with the other’s and with the prophet of God was tremendously reassuring. I was so grateful for her willingness to make such a sacrifice to follow the prophet.
Please don’t misunderstand me and please don’t sell your rings! Buying or wearing an engagement ring isn’t wrong. In fact, our married children all have lovely and appropriate rings. There are many ways we can follow the prophets and apostles and apply their counsel to our personal lives. But because the Spirit had directed us to follow the prophet by selling our engagement ring, in our case the choice was between keeping the ring and following the prophet. This helped us establish two patterns in our home from the very beginning: following the prophet and following the personal, spiritual promptings we received.

About 8,000 Southeast Asian refugees live in Utah, with about fifty to one hundred new refugees arriving every month. Donald and Irene Jones, of Mesa, Arizona, are a welfare services missionary couple who labor among the Cambodian refugees. Elder Jones relates that “about thirty percent of the people we help with clothing, furniture, food, and job-training are not members of the Church. Helping people often opens the door to teaching the gospel.”

One such conversion story is that of Sakhan Lay, who was a school teacher in Cambodia. When the government fell, her family was separated and she was sent to a prison camp. Twice she faced a firing squad, but her life was spared. Miraculously she escaped, and was able to locate her children who had fled to Thailand. A Latter-day Saint Cambodian family living in Utah sponsored the Lays so that they could come to Salt Lake City. They have since joined the Church, and Sister Lay is now working as a social worker among her people.

After my parents were married, one of Dad’s first callings was to teach a family history class. During this time he became personally committed to doing family history work. His law office calendar had many afternoons blocked off to go to the Los Angeles public library to do genealogical research. He started preparing six-foot-long (1.8 m) family group sheets, which he bound in sturdy ledgers.
Dad would also gather data and connect with our relatives. He sent hundreds of letters to his relatives as he discovered who they were. He peppered our family vacations with visits to cousins, aunts, and uncles. From this I learned of the good that can be done when you sacrifice a pleasant day of vacationing.

“I was excited about going on the Hole-in-the-Rock trip with our stake so I could see for myself the places that have been talked about,” said Cheyenne Johnson. “Walter Joshua and Elizabeth Kinney Stevens, my great-great-grandparents on my father’s side, were newlyweds. That trip was their honeymoon, and I think it must have been more honeymoon than they wanted since it was supposed to last six weeks and it lasted six months.
“Grandpa Stevens drove the first wagon down through the Hole. Also on my mother’s side of the family, great-great-grandparents Benjamin and Sarah Perkins were on that trip. Grandpa Perkins and his brother Hyrum had been miners in Wales and they were responsible for blasting out some of the places where they needed to build roadways down through the Hole. One place known as ‘Uncle Ben’s Dugway,’ was named after Grandpa Perkins. Platte D. Lyman, another great-great-grandfather on my mother’s side, was also on the trip. His wife Adelia stayed in Fillmore to have a baby who was born while the group was at the top of the Hole. He was carried through the Hole-in-the-Rock a few months later. That baby was my great-grandfather, Albert R. Lyman, who later married Mary Ellen Perkins, and they were the first settlers in what is now Blanding. They had 15 children, my grandmother being the 15th. Grandpa always kept a journal and wrote many stories and books. I was anxious to see the country where he had been a cowpuncher and to see his name carved in the rock at Lake Canyon. I felt a special closeness to him there.”

What does one pray for when your eternal sweetheart is at the gate of Heaven? I must confess my initial prayers as my Darla went into cardiac arrest were for her to live. But, as my son offered a priesthood blessing and was unable to pronounce life, I knew the will of God. So my prayers turned to understanding the will of the Father and what he would have me learn and do. On the very last night before Darla left this mortality, I sensed her proximity to her mortal exit, and asked my children to have the night alone with my wife. Although she was unconscious, I read her a collection of scriptures. I told her what lessons I learned and bore witness of her next journey. I expressed my eternal love. I held her non-responsive hand and offered a prayer to our Eternal Father. As I was praying I had an interesting feeling come over me. It was as if the Spirit was prompting me to ask whatever I desired, and it would be granted. As I pondered this feeling briefly, I responded by saying, Father, if it be thy will, please take my sweetheart to her eternal state. I then laid my hands on her head and offered the last mortal priesthood blessing she would have.

Often for us to understand the will of the Father, it requires us to go beyond our mortal desires and short-sightedness. We must as Paul taught see the things that are not seen. I know the love Darla and I share is not limited to the boundaries of mortality, but expands to the eternities. I have been blessed by countless tender mercies to know she is my eternal companion, and though we are separated by a veil, we walk together in spirit. I know she is performing a heavenly work that required her to go beyond my understanding, but my faith relieves all doubts. The scales of my mortal eyes have fallen. I have obtained a peace. It is the unusual peace described by the Savior, Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you; not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid (John 14:27). With eyes now opened by the Lord, my troubled heart was healed, and I was not afraid of the future. I could also declare, "Whereas I was blind, now I see."

We have seen the manifestation of the Savior’s power in a widow who lost her husband while they were on the Lord’s errand in Bolivia. We have seen it in a young woman in Argentina who fell under a train and lost her leg, just because someone wanted to steal her cell phone. And in her single father, who now must pick up the pieces and strengthen his daughter after such an unexplainable act of cruelty. We have seen it in the families that lost their homes and every possession during fires in Chile just two days before Christmas in 2022. We have seen it in those who suffer after a traumatic divorce and in those who are innocent victims of abuse.

This is the kind of faith we saw when we visited the families after the fires in Chile. Their houses had been burned to the ground; they had lost everything. Yet as we were walking in what used to be their homes and they were telling us about their experiences, we felt that we were standing on holy ground. One sister said to my wife, “When I saw that nearby houses were burning, I had the impression that our house was going to be burned, that we were going to lose everything. Instead of desperation, I experienced a sense of indescribable peace. Somehow, I felt everything was going to be OK.” Trusting God and keeping our covenants with Him bring power to our weakness and comfort to our grief.

I was putting a couple of U.S. dollar bills into my wallet at the grocery store when one of the bills caught my eye. I thought the green color was a little lighter than the others, so I examined it closer. Then I noticed the image of President George Washington didn’t look quite as sharp. Even the paper felt wrong. It was counterfeit! The clerk exchanged it for a genuine dollar bill and then turned the counterfeit bill over to the store manager.
I have thought a lot about that counterfeit dollar bill since then. I wondered how long it had been in circulation and how many people it had fooled over the years. In fact, had I not been paying attention, I might have been fooled as well. But by comparing it against the real thing and focusing on the differences instead of the similarities, I could tell it was counterfeit.
The best defense we have against being fooled by Satan’s counterfeits is to be as familiar as possible with truths of the gospel. The more deeply we know the truth, the easier it will be to spot the differences when Satan presents us with his counterfeits. So when he does, we need to look for the differences and not the similarities, just like I did with my dollar bills, because that is where the lies will always be revealed.
Our “counterfeit” enemy is smart, but like Gideon and Alma, we can be smarter. Just as I began to gradually recognize the differences between my pair of dollar bills, we can gradually train our eye as well as our mind and spirit to recognize the differences between truth and lies. As we do so, we will recognize the counterfeiters and resist their lies.

… As a missionary, I was speaking [in London, England, when a heckler interrupted], “Why don’t you stay with the doctrine of the Bible which says in John (4:24), ‘God is a Spirit’?”
I opened my Bible to the verse he had quoted and read to him the entire verse: “God is a Spirit: and they that worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth.”
I said, “Of course God is a spirit, and so are you, in the combination of spirit and body that makes of you a living being, and so am I.”
Each of us is a dual being of spiritual entity and physical entity. All know of the reality of death … , and each of us also knows that the spirit lives on as an individual entity and that at some time, under the divine plan made possible by the sacrifice of the Son of God, there will be a reunion of spirit and body. Jesus’s declaration that God is a spirit no more denies that He has a body than does the statement that I am a spirit while also having a body.