Gospel Story Finder

Now, some of you may not have a paper waiting for you. It may be a textbook with a math problem hidden in it. Let me tell you about a day in your future. You’ll have a teenage son or daughter who’ll say, “I hate school.” After some careful listening, you’ll find it is not school or even mathematics he or she hates—it’s the feeling of failure.

You’ll correctly discern those feelings, and you’ll be touched; you’ll want to freely give. So you’ll open the text and say, “Let’s look at one of the problems together.” Think of the shock you will feel when you see that the same rowboat is still going downstream in two hours and back in five hours, and the questions are still how fast the current is and how far the boat traveled. You might think, “Well, I’ll make my children feel better by showing them that I can’t do math either.” Let me give you some advice: they will see that as a poor gift.

In a recent news report we learned of the release of the grandson of one of the world’s wealthiest men by his drug trafficking captors for the incredible amount of nearly $3,000,000. The ransom money was paid by the boy’s mother, who had a love for her son that far exceeded any monetary consideration. As the mother was reunited with her son, she hugged and kissed him repeatedly. She was quoted as saying, “Only now I’m beginning to live again.”

“The seed of Manasseh,” Melvin repeated to himself just as he had more than forty years before when, as a boy of eleven, he had first heard these words.
It had been at the time the Logan Temple was dedicated and Patriarch Zebedee Coltrin had traveled from his home in southern Utah to stay with Melvin’s family and attend the dedication. What a thrill it was for Melvin to meet a man who had personally known the Prophet Joseph Smith! Every morning Melvin arose early so he could shine the patriarch’s shoes and listen to more stories about the Prophet.
Before leaving for home, Brother Coltrin suggested that he give a special blessing to Melvin and some of his brothers and sisters. In Melvin’s blessing the patriarch declared, “Thou shalt proclaim the gospel unto the seed of Manasseh and shall do many mighty miracles in the midst of the Lord.”
Later Melvin’s father told the family the story of Ephraim and Manasseh. Then he read to them from the Book of Mormon about Lehi and his family, who were descendants of Manasseh. He explained that the Indians were Lamanites and were known as the seed of Manasseh.
During the following years Melvin thought many times about his blessing. The only Lamanites he had ever seen were those who lived in tents outside of the little pioneer town of Logan, and he often wondered how he could proclaim the gospel to them.
Now, more than forty years later, Melvin J. Ballard was aboard a ship sailing for Buenos Aires, where he and his two companions, Elders Rulon G. Wells and Parley P. Pratt, were to open a mission for the South American people. As he walked along the windswept deck of the steamship Voltaire, he thought he finally understood the words of the inspired patriarch many years before, for he felt that the promise of his blessing was about to be fulfilled.
The steamship docked at Buenos Aires early on the morning of December 6, 1925, and that very afternoon the three elders met with twelve adults and four children who were interested in learning more about the gospel of Jesus Christ.
On December 12 Melvin recorded in his diary: “Just as the sun was going down, I baptized six people in the Rio de la Plata, the first in this generation in South America.” The next day the six were confirmed in a meeting, and at that meeting the sacrament was administered for the first time in South America.
Christmas night of that same year Melvin again wrote in his diary: “The sun came up at 4:41. We were up at 5. We arrived at Park 3 de Febrero at a place near the river in a grove of weeping willows at 7 A.M. We sang ‘The Morning Breaks.’ Brother Pratt read several passages from the Book of Mormon on promises of redemption of the Lamanites. Brother Wells read from the Bible. We all knelt under a weeping willow tree, and I offered prayer.”
Here is part of the prayer Elder Ballard offered:
We are grateful to come to this great land of South America to unlock the door for the preaching of the gospel. We thank thee for the few who have received us and for those we have had the joy of taking into the waters of baptism in this land. May they be the first fruits of a glorious harvest.
As Melvin J. Ballard left Buenos Aires, Argentina, on July 4, 1926, he reported to the members of the Church who had gathered to say goodbye that “the work of the Lord will grow slowly for a time. It will not shoot up in a day as does the sunflower that grows quickly and then dies. But thousands will join the Church here.”
This promise has been fulfilled many times over in Argentina and other South American “Book of Mormon countries.” Today the seed of Manasseh comprise a great part of the Church in this land as well as in other parts of the world.

Illustration by Jim Madsen
A missionary activity had been planned in the stake where I was serving. My companion and I were to briefly explain a gospel principle to the investigators who would attend. However, when we arrived at the meetinghouse, we discovered that hardly any investigators had come. Instead of teaching the principle as we had originally planned, we were asked to go out into the street and invite the people passing by to come and take part in the activity.
Truthfully, I couldn’t help but think, “This is not going to work.” I felt that our efforts would be fruitless—that no one would accept the invitation to just come to the activity, particularly with such little notice.
But we understood the importance of obedience, so my companion and I tried to invite people to come in. Not much later, a woman and her daughter and her daughter’s boyfriend passed by. We invited them to come in. At first they were hesitant, but finally they accepted the invitation and joined the group inside. I was surprised but very happy.
The activity started: a gospel-centered musical presentation. The activity lasted more than an hour. I worried that our guests were angry because the event lasted so long, but I had a prayer in my heart asking for everything to work out well.
When the activity ended, I approached them to apologize for taking so much of their time. Before I could say a word to them, the woman said, “Thank you. Thank you so much. It was very beautiful. Thank you.”
I was astonished; they were thanking us for the experience, and they weren’t concerned about the time. It was marvelous, and there was joy in my heart. (And to think that I had been saying that inviting people on the street wasn’t going to work!) The woman wanted to know more about the Church and to attend our Sunday meetings.
I learned something great from this experience: exercising just a little faith, even if it is nothing more than a desire to believe, can yield great fruits (see Alma 32:27–28).
This experience changed my attitude for the rest of my mission. From that time on, at each missionary activity, I would see the fruits of my labors when I went forth with hope and an eye of faith.
If we exercise faith, even when we think it cannot come to pass, we can obtain delicious fruits. What we see as impossible is not impossible for God.

For my family and me, the cold winter of 1944 was a time of fear and uncertainty. With my father far away on the western front, my mother struggled to keep her four children fed and warm as war threatened our home in Czechoslovakia.
Each day the danger grew closer. Finally, my mother decided to flee to her parents’ home in eastern Germany. Somehow, she managed to get all of us on one of the last refugee trains heading west. Nearby explosions, worried faces, and empty stomachs reminded everyone on the train that we were traveling through a war zone.
One night after our train had stopped for supplies, my mother hurried off to search for food. When she returned, to her horror, the train carrying us children was gone!
Fraught with worry, she turned to God in desperate prayer and then frantically began searching the dark train station. She ran from track to track and from train to train. She knew that if her train departed before she found it, she might never see us again.
On a dark night in a grim railroad station many years ago, my mother faced a choice. She could sit and bemoan the tragedy of having lost her children, or she could put her faith and hope into action. I am grateful that her faith overcame her fear and that her hope overcame her despair.
Finally, in a remote area of the station, she found our train. There, at last, we were reunited. That night, and during many stormy days and nights to come, my mother’s example of putting faith into action sustained us as we hoped and worked for a brighter future.

When I was going to be baptized and confirmed a member of the Church, I felt very troubled about whether I was choosing the right path. Our branch missionaries in Gyumri, Armenia, realized I had some doubts about the Book of Mormon and joining the Church, so they invited me to go with them while they taught some missionary lessons.
When we got to the first home, Elder Perrin asked Anichka if she had read the assigned chapters. “No,” she said, “I forgot.” So we read 2 Nephi 29–33 together. While reading chapter 29, we studied the prophecies about the Book of Mormon and the Gentiles rejecting it in the latter days by saying, “A Bible! A Bible! We have got a Bible, and there cannot be any more Bible” (v. 3). That chapter left an impression on me throughout the lesson.
Next we went to another home. When we were reading from the Book of Mormon there, the father of the woman we were teaching asked, “What is that book?”
I explained that it was the Book of Mormon: Another Testament of Jesus Christ. He became angry and said, “We already have the Bible, and there can’t be another Bible.”
I remembered the chapter we had read just 10 minutes earlier with Anichka.
Elder Perrin spoke up: “You have a Bible, and it is from God’s ancient covenant people.” He continued, “God created all people, and He reveals His words to His children, which means all people on this earth. Even though you have a Bible, don’t you suppose that God would give His word to others?” He continued this way, explaining the origin of the Book of Mormon.
I was amazed at what had just happened. It seemed there could be no greater testimony for resolving my concerns about the Book of Mormon than seeing its prophecies fulfilled.
Now with sincerity of heart I can say that the Book of Mormon is the truest book. I know that God loves us all and He won’t forget us. Again and again I have realized how exceptional a possession the Book of Mormon is.

Just ask Stacy Allen, a senior and a cheerleader. When Stacy volunteered to be a Seminary Friend last fall, she had no idea how the experience would change her life.
“I had Amber Rindlesbacher as my partner,” Stacy says. “It was the first time I’d been around a special-needs student. It was an adjustment, but I just felt the Spirit really strong when I was around her. I learned so much.”
Stacy felt Amber’s influence outside of the classroom too. “I could tell there was a difference,” she says. “I could feel the Spirit more in my life. It helped me to be happier toward my family and friends.”
In fact, Stacy loved her first Seminary Friends experience so much she decided to do it again the next semester; but there was a problem: Stacy’s school schedule did not have room for another noncredit class.
At Logan High School, seminary is taught during the school day. Students attend seminary classes just as they would any other class, walking off campus to the Church-owned seminary building nearby. Students plan their schedules carefully to fill high school graduation requirements and still attend noncredit seminary classes. Stacy needed one more credited class to graduate. So Stacy signed up for an independent study course to fill the credit requirements for high school graduation and thought she had the problem resolved.
“Then they told me that since I wouldn’t have a full on-campus schedule I couldn’t be a cheerleader anymore,” Stacy says. Stacy had to choose between cheerleading and the special-needs seminary. “I didn’t want to let my squad down. But I really loved my seminary experience. I prayed, and I fasted for a solution.”
One night, while struggling with her decision, Stacy dreamed that she was in heaven and met Amber. In her dream Amber was whole and well. The two met as equals and as friends. When Stacy woke up, she confirmed her decision. She gave up cheerleading to serve in the Seminary Friends program one more time.
That semester, Stacy was paired with special-needs student Jimmy Carmen. He has an infectious smile and outgoing personality. Stacy says, “Jimmy makes me feel happy every day.”
Stacy misses cheerleading but says the trade-off has been worth the sacrifice. She says, “It’s been worth it, definitely.” She feels the Spirit there and believes she’s gained more than she’s given as a Seminary Friend. “The kids teach me to be more accepting,” she says.

I helped with a project at school to make “bottles of love,” which are plastic bottles filled with single-use plastics. These are items that are used once and thrown away, like plastic bags. Each family made bottles of love and took them to school. The bottles were sent to an organization that made them into plastic bricks. The bricks could be used to build outdoor benches and houses for people in need.
I realized that my family uses a lot of plastic daily, which is a real environmental problem. I wanted to start caring for the environment. But I couldn’t do it alone. So I decided to ask people at church to help too. I spoke with my leaders and the bishop of the ward. He asked me to talk about the project in a meeting. Many people joined the project. After a few months, we collected more than 100 bottles of love!
The project continues today. When I collect a lot of bottles, I go with my family and Primary friends to the drop-off area. We leave the bottles there to be turned into building materials.
I like this project. It makes me feel that I can really help this world that God created for us. It helps me value and respect nature and animals. Taking care of nature is one way I can follow the Savior. I also like that it’s a way to help others.
Sometimes it’s not easy to take the time to make the bottles of love. But I feel that we can change and choose to do small, good acts daily. I also learned that to do something “big” we need the help of others. We can impact others and help them join the change. I believe this is an important part of the gospel of Jesus Christ: to change, help others, and do good in the world.

Rebekah, the daughter of my first mission president, shared how the Lord answered her prayer for comfort with an unexpected opportunity to answer someone else’s prayer.
Late one evening, Rebekah, grieving her mother’s recent passing, had a clear impression to go buy gas for her car. When she arrived at the station, she met an elderly woman struggling to breathe with a large oxygen tank. Later, Rebekah was able to give the woman her mother’s portable oxygen machine. This sister gratefully said, “You’ve given me back my freedom.” Things work together for good when we minister as Jesus Christ would.

More than 50 years ago we were young adults, as you are now. This photograph was taken at that time. We were both university students. [A photograph of them as a young couple was shown.] I was a sophomore premedical student; she was a freshman on a scholarship. We were very much in love. I think you can sense that in the photo. Brethren, you can’t blame me for being in love with her, can you?

Thank you for showing the photo. We really don’t look like that anymore. But to me, Sister Nelson is now even more beautiful!

My career as a doctor of medicine has been completed. All of my many surgical operations have been done. Likewise, Sister Nelson has had extremely demanding responsibilities as a mother of 10 children. I forgot to mention that our first nine children were all little girls. Our home was like a girls’ dormitory, until our one and only son came along. Poor boy! He didn’t know who his real mother was for his first couple of years.

Now Sister Nelson’s life has matured. She has taken on a less rigorous role as grandmother of our grandchildren, many of whom are here this evening. Would all members of our family please stand for a moment? I would like the cameramen to focus upon you so others can see you as well. We are blessed with 56 grandchildren and 14 great-grandchildren. Our newest grandchild is here—only two weeks old. Those numbers are likely to increase.

What is most important to Sister Nelson and me now? That we are husband and wife, wedded for time and all eternity. Our children are born in the covenant and are sealed to us forever. What joy that knowledge brings!

When we married in the temple, we didn’t know many scriptures. But we did know Matthew 6:33: “Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you.” As mentioned earlier, that became the lodestar for every decision we made together. Only years later did we learn that the Joseph Smith Translation of that verse was even more compelling and clear: “Seek not the things of this world but seek ye first to build up the kingdom of God, and to establish his righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you” (JST, Matthew 6:38). We have been guided well by that scripture! I have been inspired well by this woman of faith who stood beside me all these years. Blessings that mean the most to me have come because of her.

As Sister Nelson and I look back, we can honestly say that our family and membership in the Church are most important to us. How thankful we are that we heeded the counsel of Church leaders to marry in the temple, to invite children into our family, and to serve the Lord! If we had placed our education ahead of our family, we would not be so blessed now. Education was a lengthy process for us. Earning two doctor’s degrees took me a long time. Then we struggled through many more years of surgical specialization. I did not send a bill for surgical services until I had been out of medical school for more than 12 years! By then we had five children. But somehow we managed.

I pay tribute to Sister Nelson, who never murmured because she had to make do with very little. I recall an experience one night in downtown Boston. We were walking along Boylston Street. There we passed a furniture store. Sister Nelson pressed her nose against the windowpane and asked, “Do you think we will ever be able to afford a lamp?”

Brethren, I suggest that you look for a companion with long-range vision, like Sister Nelson. To each sister I suggest that you motivate your husband to become all he can become, even if it takes a long time.

One beautiful spring day, I heard a knock at my front door—then another and another. It sounded like the knocks came from little hands.
Dropping a basket of clean laundry on the couch, I opened the door. There stood Wade, Savannah, Mace, and Zane. At once they began showering me with questions: “Is it OK if we pull the weeds in your garden?” “May Mom and Dad trim your bushes?” “What color are your favorite flowers?”
For a moment I stood there speechless. Then I asked, “Would you like to come in to visit?”
The children smiled up at me. “Oh, no,” they said. “We’re not here to visit. We’re here to help you!”
The children showed me the tools they had brought. “May we get started?” they asked. “We will be careful of your purple flowers.”
Soon eight little helping hands were busy at work as four happy voices filled the air. All day long they worked, pulling weeds and planting flowers.
What a beautiful example of love and service those children set for me. I will always remember their kindness—and the gorgeous marigolds they planted in my garden with their little helping hands.

My friend Stephen was not just any friend. He was awesome in every way, and I really looked up to him. One day, he asked me if I wanted to know about something that made him incredibly happy. Of course I did. Anything that was important to him was important to me. He continued to ask me other questions before he would reveal what it was that made him so happy. Did I want to know the truth? I finally realized that he was probably talking about his church. After a couple of weeks, he asked if I would speak with the missionaries. I thought, “Why not? Nothing is going to happen from just one visit.”
The day came to meet the missionaries, and as I walked into Stephen’s house, I was quite nervous. I had no idea what to expect. The elders introduced themselves. They seemed extremely nice and fun. Then after a prayer, they began the first discussion. I remember the feeling so well. As they talked about Joseph Smith, the Book of Mormon, and Jesus Christ, I knew that there was something special about this gospel.
When I arrived home, I told my mom everything I had learned and how much sense it made. My mom seemed slightly interested but not even close to the level of excitement I had. I was filled with some sort of energy, and I wanted to know more.
The next week I had the second discussion. Again, everything taught made sense. At the close of the discussion, one of the elders asked if I would be baptized. Honestly, I was shocked. I didn’t think this question would come up so soon. I told the elders that I simply didn’t know. They asked me to kneel with them and pray aloud to know if the things I had been taught were true. I had never prayed vocally with others before, so I was rather timid.
My best friend, the missionaries, and I knelt, and I prayed. I prayed to Heavenly Father to know if Joseph Smith was a prophet. I asked if the Book of Mormon was true. I pleaded to know if this was the true church and if it was in His plan for me to join it. I prayed for guidance and direction. I prayed to know what Heavenly Father wanted me to do. After probably 10 minutes of sincere prayer, I said amen and opened my eyes.
All I could feel was the Spirit. It was the most wonderful feeling I had ever felt. I was amazed with the knowledge and truth I had just been blessed with. I looked at the missionaries and told them I wanted to be baptized. We set the date. I knew at that moment that everything I had been taught and everything to come was true. I had gained my own testimony.
When I told my mother, she was more understanding than I had expected. She told me that if I really felt this was what I needed to do, then I should do it.
Sooner than I could believe, I was getting ready to be baptized. My whole family attended, which made it even more special. As my best friend and I walked into the font, wearing all white, the Spirit was present. I was about to be clean, as clean as I had been when I was born.
When I came out of the water, I couldn’t believe it. I had been baptized. This was my first best day.
The missionaries soon started teaching my family the discussions. My family had a hard time grasping concepts such as the Book of Mormon and Joseph Smith, key concepts to the Church. But they kept listening to the discussions.
Finally, during the sixth discussion, the elders asked my family to be baptized. The room was silent. After a few moments, my dad looked up and said, “Yes, this is what we need to do.” I was in awe because my dad had never been very faithful about going to church. He looked at my mom, and she also said yes. My 14-year-old brother was in tears. He, too, wanted to be baptized. Three months after my baptism, my family was baptized. This was my second best day.
About a year later, my family was sealed in the Atlanta Georgia Temple. As we walked into the sealing room, the Spirit overwhelmed me. We knelt together as a family and were sealed together forever. This was the best day of all.
I love this Church. I am thankful for Jesus Christ, Heavenly Father, my friend, and the missionaries who taught me the gospel. Now, thanks to them, each of my days can be a best day.

I also had the privilege to go to the Nauvoo Temple and participate in baptisms for some of my ancestors. The Nauvoo Temple was beautiful inside and out. I felt a special spirit there and was grateful to the early Saints in Nauvoo. Building the temple was so important to them. They worked hard to finish the temple’s construction, so they could complete temple ordinances and make and keep sacred covenants before they were forced out of this beautiful city.
As our time to leave the city of Nauvoo drew near, I felt very sad. It was easy to imagine how difficult it was for the early Saints to leave. My family and I walked down Parley Street, following the Trail of Hope. As I looked back at the Nauvoo Temple, it stood so beautiful and brilliant on the hill. I realized that the Saints of Nauvoo had great faith to leave their beautiful homes and a temple of God. As I walked to the very edge of the Mississippi River, I recognized that many of the early Saints did not know where they were going. They had great faith that God would guide them and protect them.

When I came home from meeting with the bishop, I told my husband, who is not a Latter-day Saint, that I was going back to church. He said he thought that would be fine. My announcement thrilled my oldest daughter, age 11 at the time, who had always gone to church alone or with grandparents. When I called my mom and dad on the phone to let them know I had talked to the bishop and was going back to church, I heard them crying. I realized they had looked forward to this day for a long time.

I remember a story recounted during World War II, when a German Latter-day Saint soldier was struck by an American bullet and lay perilously ill. He told his leader, “Please take a white flag and go to the other side and see if there is a Mormon elder who could administer to me.” What a bizarre request in a war of two mortal enemies. But seeing his condition, and anxious to satisfy what appeared to be a last request, the leader took the white flag, went across the enemy line, and asked for a Mormon elder. One was found and he, with the German, crossed the enemy line, laid his hands upon that brother’s head, and commanded in the name of the Lord that he remain alive until help could be had. There is a sense of belonging that is fulfilled by the gospel of Jesus Christ—first to our Father in Heaven; then to our family, which can be an eternal unit; and then to members everywhere upon this earth.

When my husband and I got married, I quickly learned that we needed to change some of the ways we communicated. The communication styles that had worked in my family were not the same ones my husband had learned, and those differences led to misunderstandings, hurt feelings, and a sometimes strained relationship.

My husband and I still have a lot to learn. But as we’ve tried to implement these ideas, we’ve come to understand, respect, and love each other so much more. I know that all our relationships can improve as we learn a healthier, holier, more Christlike way of communicating.

Quest for the Eagle Feather Quiet Water—or John Butler? Several years before, a storm had caused the boy to be separated from his parents, who were going to seek gold in California. Now he had to decide whether to try to find them or stay with Tall Deer and Blue-Flower-Blooming, who considered him their son. Somehow he knew that his quest with Running Fox and Screaming Crow would end the turmoil he felt.John Duncklee8–12 years

Even with their common faith, the Saints had experienced much hardship and approached the evacuation of Nauvoo with very different expectations. Some looked forward with optimism, others with concern. Two excellent examples are presented by Helen Mar Whitney and Bathsheba Smith. Both have left compelling records of their feelings.
Sister Bathsheba Smith’s recorded feelings are also full of faith but evidence some trepidation. She had seen the mobs arrayed against the Saints in Missouri and was present at the death of the Apostle David W. Patten.
Recalling the evacuation of Nauvoo, she wrote: “My last act in that precious spot was to tidy the rooms, sweep up the floor and set the broom in its accustomed place behind the door. Then with emotions in my heart … I gently closed the door and faced an unknown future, … faced it with faith in God and with no less assurance of the ultimate establishment of the Gospel in the West and of its true enduring principles, than I had felt in those trying scenes in Missouri.”
Both of these LDS pioneer women remained strong in the gospel throughout their lives and provided wonderful service in building Zion, but they faced many additional trials and hardships, which they both faithfully endured.
Sister Smith recorded the poverty, sickness, and privation that the Saints suffered as they made their way west. In March of 1847 her mother passed away, and the next month her second son, John, was born. Her record of that is brief: “He was my last child, and [he] lived only four hours.” Later in her life she was the matron of the Salt Lake Temple and the fourth general president of the Relief Society.

Nate is hanging out with his friends one evening when one of his buddies brings out some cans of beer and passes them around. When Nate refuses at first, saying, “I can’t,” his friends begin to laugh and tease him. Nate doesn’t want his friends to think he’s not cool, so he considers taking a few sips of beer just to get his friends to stop laughing.

It seems as though no matter where we go in life, whether in person or online, there will be an open window from the great and spacious building nearby with someone ready to point a finger and laugh at the things we value. We have probably all experienced this mockery at different times, and it can be very painful. We know we should react in a Christlike manner, but it’s not always easy. Nobody likes to be laughed at or have deeply held beliefs belittled. Like Nate, we might sometimes respond with a phrase like “I can’t—I’m Mormon,” only to hear others laugh even harder.

Have you ever noticed how mockers always tend to focus on the word can’t? As in, “Why can’t you drink that?” “Why can’t you go shopping with me on Sunday?” or “Why can’t you have sex before you’re married?”

This focus on the word can’t may cause us to feel powerless. It may feel as though we’re weak and spineless. It may feel as though we’re helpless victims of an impersonal God who has locked us up so that we don’t have any fun.

This tactic is very, very old. In fact, Satan has been using it from the very beginning. When God placed Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, He told them, “Of every tree of the garden thou mayest freely eat” (Moses 3:16). Do the words “every tree” sound like a restriction to you? While God told Adam and Eve that there were specific consequences for eating of the tree of knowledge of good and evil, He never physically restricted them. They had the whole garden to themselves and were told, “Thou mayest choose for thyself, for it is given unto thee” (Moses 3:17). That sounds like freedom to me!

So it’s interesting that when Satan comes along later he says, “Yea, hath God said—Ye shall not eat of every tree of the garden?” (Moses 4:7). Essentially, Satan was asking, “Why can’t you eat the fruit of that tree?” in the same mocking tone that comes from the windows of the great and spacious building. Satan focused on the one thing that God had attached consequences to, and he made it sound as though God wanted to deprive Adam and Eve. Satan twisted God’s words, adding lies in the effort to convince them to follow him instead of God. In the end, partaking of the fruit had been part of the plan all along. And God provided a Savior to give Adam and Eve and all their children the chance to grow and return home.

And what is it we’re really saying when we say, “I can’t—I’m Mormon”? Are we really saying, “I wish I could, and if I weren’t Mormon, I totally would”? I once had a friend who used to joke about all the things he’d like to do if he weren’t a member of the Church. The problem was, I couldn’t always tell if he was joking.

Rather than focusing on can’t and don’t, we would be much better off if we used the word won’t. As in, “I won’t—I’m Mormon.” Using won’t instead of can’t changes the focus of the phrase and shows that we are empowered to choose for ourselves. By saying, “I won’t,” we’re saying, “I’m choosing not to do that, not because I’m a blind follower or because I’m restricted but because I believe in agency and accountability and I want to do what’s right. I am choosing to act and not be acted upon” (see 2 Nephi 2:14, 26).

Using “I won’t” instead of “I can’t” is also a monumental act of courage. It doesn’t take any courage to follow the crowds down the various paths of the world. Anyone can do that. Standing up for the truth shows real faith. Standing out from the world takes real courage. It shows that we are truly using our agency and really thinking for ourselves. The people in the great and spacious building are always referred to as a nameless crowd, a faceless mob. In the end, their words are hollow and meaningless. By faithfully exercising our agency, we can find the courage to say, as did Lehi and the brave and faithful members of his family, “We heeded them not” (1 Nephi 8:33).

Amid an increasingly wicked world, those who stand up and walk the gospel path truly do stand out. But they are not alone. As President Thomas S. Monson has invited us, “May we ever be courageous and prepared to stand for what we believe, and if we must stand alone in the process, may we do so courageously, strengthened by the knowledge that in reality we are never alone when we stand with our Father in Heaven.”3

So, with unwavering faith, courage and resolute in purpose, I joined the queue to pay my respects to my late queen as she lay in state, on 14 September. I knew others had already been camping overnight to ensure their places in the queue; those joining it were warned to expect waiting times of up to 30 hours.
I went prepared for most eventualities and, upon joining the end of the queue, soon introduced myself to those in front of me and to those rapidly joining behind. Many have since attested to what I experienced: moments of quiet contemplation, joviality, camaraderie, and a willingness to consecrate our time together in sharing food, watching others’ belongings, and offering to purchase further snacks for each other.
As we went through security at Westminster Hall, we said our mutual goodbyes. Then a solemn reverence descended as those present who, unified in grief, filed past Queen Elizabeth’s coffin, adorned by the magnificent crown jewels. I was so overcome by the tangible presence of the Holy Spirit, that I began to weep.
It occurred to me how much the entire experience reflected the concept of enduring well once we get on the covenant path, by saving others and being served along the way, keeping our spirits up, sacrificing our time, and being one in purpose.
For the few short hours that I was in the queue—only eight—my reward was a precious moment long enough for me to curtsey and blow a kiss towards the coffin.