Gospel Story Finder

It was a fall day in Wyoming. The majestic Tetons rising high into the blue sky were delicately mirrored in Jackson Lake—a breathtakingly beautiful setting for the beginning of a high adventure canoe trip down the 98 miles of the rugged Snake River. True to its name, the river curled its way through a wilderness area abundant with wildlife. There would be few roads and only occasional trails.
Excitement was high, and hearts seemed to be beating a little faster than usual as the 19 Scout leader fathers and their 16-year-old sons waited on the river bank at Moran to begin their canoe trip down the Snake River.
Two tanned, tall, river-experienced 19-year-old young men would be our guides—one at the head of the group and the other following close behind. Their every word of instruction and warning was caught by ears that were straining to learn. There was a bit of apprehension as they warned about whirlpools, with their circling current, that could take a canoe and its occupants down under. There was also the instruction about approaching and riding through the white water areas. The main word of instruction was, “Whatever you do, don’t unbalance your canoe.” We resolved and it was our intention that we would do everything the guides had instructed us to do. We would stroke evenly on each side; we would kneel up all the way so we could move easily and keep the canoe in balance.
As the leader responsible for the group, I seemed to be having some second thoughts as I listened to the safety precautions the guides were giving us. I remembered a newscast a few days before telling of a father who had fallen from his canoe while going through a rapid and had struck his head on a rock and had drowned before he could be recovered, even though he had his life jacket properly in place.
The lead guide gracefully slipped his canoe into the water and glided effortlessly out into the river. In turn, each canoe, with father and son in place, followed. It was a beautiful day—the fresh clear air was invigorating; the clear blue sky with an occasional white billowy cloud added to the beauty of the surroundings. The water was clear and the river flowed smoothly along. The spruce and pine trees, together with grass and shrubs, made each turn of the river one of artistic beauty. The first ten miles were so enjoyable that most of the fear and concern faded away.
As we looked ahead, we could see another stream emptying into the main river. We could see the whirlpool signs, and we became more alert as we approached the junction point. All of a sudden there was an excited cry ahead: “Look at the moose!” I wanted to see the moose, so I whirled around and caught a fleeting glimpse of it with its large flat antlers just as I was going headfirst into the Snake River.
The water was cold; the rocks were hard. I struggled to get to the surface. A thousand thoughts raced through my mind: “I wonder where my son Dave is. How will I find our canoe? Can I find my paddle?”
As I swam toward the shore, I caught sight of Dave right ahead making his way to the bank. I lost my hat and all of the suntan lotion and the dark glasses I had in my pocket. But I was glad to get out of the cold water and again get back in the canoe so we could keep up with the others.
After that, they could have said “Look!” at a thousand moose and we would not have turned around to look. We looked straight ahead. There were miles of rapids and white water, and we went safely through. We didn’t look to the left or to the right. In fact, one rapid was so severe that one canoe in trying to negotiate it tipped over backward.
The father was heavier than his 16-year-old son, and he was in the back. They had not intended to unbalance the canoe, but they did. They got wet just the same. Intention is not enough!

I remember, early in the days of nuclear engineering, when we were experimenting to confirm some of the hypotheses. One day I was in an area where a swimming pool had been built, and down deep in it were aluminum plates with uranium-aluminum contents arrayed. Three of us were taking turns at the controls, and I remember the thrill of excitement that came to me as we moved the control rods. I happened to be at the control panel when the count-rate meter indicated that the reactor had gone critical; and as I looked down into the pool I could see that shirinkoff radiation, the iridescent blue indicating that in fact there was a controlled chain reaction. That may not appear much to you now with today’s familiarity with physics, but it was a scientific thrill for me.

Later, we experimentally measured cross-sections of materials to determine their nuclear constants. We used a beam of high-energy neutrons from one of the graphite pile reactors, deflecting it with a crystal into experimental apparatus. A young janitor approached the experiment evidencing total disdain for what we were doing. He did not understand it nor did he want to understand it. In kind of an accusatory way he indicated that we were just wasting time, kidding people, doing that which had no real meaning. To show his disdain he reached up to touch the crystal that deflected the beam and to whirl it. Had he not been stopped, that powerful, dangerous beam of high-energy neutrons would have sprayed the room. His if-you-can’t-see-it-taste-it-smell-it-feel-it-hear-it-then-it-doesn’t-exist attitude is all too prevalent in the world today when we talk about things of God, things that really matter.

One day I went to the market with my mom, my brother, and my sister. As we were leaving and were out in front of the store, I saw paper money floating in the breeze. I tried to grab it before it blew away, and I called to my mom to come and help. After we had gathered all the bills, we looked around to see who they could belong to. We saw no one, just a van pulling away. We couldn’t find a wallet or a purse. When we counted the bills—five twenties, one ten, and two ones—we realized I had found $112!
Mom reminded me that it wasn’t mine. She said it might belong to someone who needed it to live. After we called my dad at work to hear what he thought, we all decided that my mom would call the manager of the store and tell him we had found some money. We didn’t tell him the amount, but we left our name and phone number in case anyone asked for the money. My mom said that if no one claimed it after two weeks, I could keep it. She put it away in a box.
The very next day, an older lady phoned and explained that she had called the grocery story when she realized she was missing some money. The manager had given her our number. She told us she was missing five twenties, one ten, and two ones. Her husband was in a wheelchair, and they needed that money for food and other things. It was her Social Security benefit. She also said that she had been praying all night that her money would be found by someone honest so that it would be returned to her.
When we pulled up to her small home, Mom handed me the box with the money in it. I got out of the car and took it to the lady. She was smiling. She turned to my mom and dad and said, “Thank you for raising an honest child.”
I was glad that we were the people who found the money so that she could get it back. I felt very happy. I know Jesus would have returned the money if He had found it.

I recall a young man who was in our stake when I served as a stake president. He traveled around with a crowd that thought it was smart to do things that were not right. On a few occasions he was caught in some minor violations. One day I got a call from the police station and was told he was being held because of a traffic violation. He had been caught speeding, as he had on a few other occasions prior to this time. Knowing the things he was doing might prevent him from going on a mission, he straightened up, and when he was 19 years of age, he received his call.

I shall never forget the talk we had when he returned. He told me that while he was in the mission field he had often thought of the trouble he had caused by the mistaken belief that the violation of little things was not important. But a great change had come into his life. He had come to the realization that there is no happiness or pleasure in violation of the law, whether it be God’s law or the laws that society imposes upon us. He said to me, “When I drive a car now and the speed limit is 55 miles an hour, I feel it is morally wrong to drive a single mile faster.”

I was impressed by the great change that had come over this young man while he served on his mission and studied moral principles. How unfortunate it is that he had to learn his lesson the hard way, but what a great blessing comes when there is the realization that one cannot be in violation and feel good about that conduct.

Stories or poems will help your listeners remember the points you are trying to make. For example, a talk on ambition might include the following illustration:
A young boy named Tommy was showing a visitor some of his drawings—birds, dogs, cars, houses. He confided that these were not his best drawings. “May I see your best drawings, then?” asked the visitor. “Oh,” replied Tommy, “I haven’t done those yet.” (Vaughn J. Featherstone, “Of Mind and Muscle,” Do-It-Yourself Destiny, Bookcraft Publishers, p. 109).

When I was a small boy, even too young to go to school, I lived on a farm with my aunt and uncle in Burley, Idaho. My uncle had a dog named Shepherd that I loved with all my heart. Shepherd was getting old when our friendship started, but we still spent hundreds of hours together. We dreamed our dreams, and we accomplished great feats within our little kingdom.
But Shepherd, my true and loving companion, was moving through life much faster than I was. After a while, I noticed that he no longer wanted to bark at the ducks, jump across ditch banks, or follow me out to the green alfalfa field. He was content to simply lie in the shade by the house and watch me come and go. Although I respected his wishes, I missed the times we had shared.
One morning my uncle came to me and said, “Francis, Shepherd is very, very old, and he is ill.”
“What can I do to help him get better?” I asked.
“He can’t get better,” was my uncle’s reply. “We have to take him to the animal doctor so his pain and suffering will last no longer.”
Running to Shepherd, I knew I would have to say good-bye forever to the friend I loved so dearly. Locking my arms around his neck, I was determined to protect him, as he had so often protected me.
I remembered the time he had saved me from an angry, charging, muskrat. And how, after a few loud barks from my faithful friend, a man-eating water snake changed its course, leaving me happy to be alive.
But my strength and size were no match for the mature strength of my uncle, who with loving care and understanding pried me loose from old Shepherd. Frantically I tried to regain hold of my friend. As I grabbed him, a tuft of hair came off in my hand.
Unable to control the pressure in my small body, heartbroken sobs came from deep within my soul. My battle was lost; my beloved pet would be gone forever.
Sorrow filled my young life. There was no joy because there was no hope I’d ever see Shepherd again. I lost all interest in adventuring to the apple orchard, watching white fluffy clouds, or playing in the big tree.
A few days later, my uncle asked me if I would like to go to Park Valley with him while he rode for cattle. Usually when my uncle went to Park Valley, I loved to go with him. I’d spend long hours with my cousin, exploring old barns, bird’s nests, and cedar draws (shallow ravines). But now my heart wasn’t in it. I said, “Thanks, but I don’t feel like going.”
“Well, Francis, it’s up to you,” he replied. “But you can be miserable there just as well as here. Besides, it will be a good change of scenery.”
I wasn’t sure he was right, but I finally decided to go.
We were quiet as we climbed into the truck. I knew that my uncle was trying to think of something to say that would make me feel better. Finally he spoke. “Francis, do you see that outcrop of rocks along the ridge of that mountain?”
“Yes,” I replied, puzzled. I had seen that ridge many times, and I wondered why he wanted me to look at it again.
“If you could see old Shepherd now, he would probably be on that ridge, running like the wind. He’d be free from all the aches and pains he suffered.”
I asked, “How could Shepherd be dead and still run along the crest of that rimrock?”
“When Old Shepherd died,” he replied, “his spirit became separated from his body. His mortal body was buried, but his spirit body didn’t die. Spirits are always alive.”
So that’s how Shepherd can run and jump now, I thought happily as my mind locked onto this new and exciting idea. Then I asked, “If I could see Shepherd’s spirit, could I hug him around the neck and could he lick me on the cheek?”
“No,” my uncle said. “We can’t feel a spirit because spirits are made of a material different from mortal bodies.”
My young heart grew heavy again. What fun would Shepherd be if I could never give him a hug, or scratch him, or wrestle with him. Would I never be able to have those experiences with my beloved dog again? Sadly I asked, “Will I ever be able to touch old Shepherd again, or will we only be able to sit around and look at each other?”
Smiling, my uncle said, “The time will come when you will be able to feel him bump against you and feel him lick your hand.”
Suddenly I felt happier than I had for a whole month. Now questions began to tumble out of my mouth. “When will I be able to touch him again? What will happen to make it possible to touch Shepherd again? Who is able to do this wonderful thing?”
What joy filled my little chest! Perhaps there was a way to get my dog back after all.
“Hold on a minute,” my uncle said. “Catch your breath, and I’ll answer your questions. Do you remember hearing of Jesus Christ?”
I nodded. “Yes, you’ve told me a lot about Him. And every time I go to church, my Primary teachers talk about Him.”
“Do you remember what He did when He lived on the earth?”
“I remember that He was really good, and He made people well,” I said. “But some people put Him to death by nailing Him to a big wooden cross.”
“So Jesus died, is that right?” my uncle asked.
“Yes,” I answered quietly.
“What happened to Jesus when He died?”
I wasn’t exactly sure, but I decided to venture a guess. “If Shepherd’s body separated from his spirit when he died, then Jesus’ body must have separated from His spirit when He died, too.”
“That’s exactly right,” my uncle said. “So when this happened to Jesus, where did His followers put His body?”
I knew the answer to that one. “They put His body in a cave place and put a great stone in front of the way in.”
“Right again. Now, did His body stay in that cave forever?”
“No,” I replied. “Three days later a lady came to see if His body was OK. But when she got there, she saw an angel who told her that Jesus was gone.”
“Yes,” my uncle said, nodding. “And do you know why Jesus wasn’t there?”
“He came alive again.”
“That’s right—He came alive again. And that’s called the Resurrection. Resurrection is when, after a person or animal dies, his or her body and spirit come back together again. Jesus made it possible for everyone to be resurrected.”
“Even animals?” I asked eagerly.
“Even animals.”
“You mean that Shepherd will someday get his body back and that I will be able to touch him?” I whooped with joy.
“Yes,” my uncle assured me. “Even old Shepherd will get his body back. But this time he won’t have any aches or pains.”
At that moment all the sorrow and pain I felt for my beloved pet was gone. It was replaced with love and gratitude for Jesus, who had died and come alive again. He made it possible for everyone, even animals, to have their bodies forever.

As the sun set on another Sunday in 1948, I found myself walking down the side of the Trent River in Nottingham, England. As a 20-year-old missionary, I had recently been called as district president. It had been a long, exhausting day filled with meetings and ministering, but I was happy and satisfied in the work.
As I walked along the river, I said a prayer in my heart. Hoping to feel some guidance from the Lord, I asked, “Am I doing what You want?”
An overwhelming feeling of peace and understanding came over me. At that precise moment, I came to know that Jesus Christ knew me and loved me. I didn’t see a vision or hear a voice, but I could not have known of Christ’s reality and divinity any more powerfully had He stood before me and called out my name.
This sweet and tender experience has shaped my life. From that day to today, every significant decision I have made has been influenced by my knowledge of the Savior. Over the years and throughout most of the world, I have testified that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, the Light of the World. It is a privilege for us to come unto Him, to follow Him, and to feel His light in our lives.

Paul was helping Dad plant a garden. He wished his brother Eric was here to help. But Eric was far away on a mission.
“I’ll never be big like Eric,” Paul said. “How can I go on a mission like him?”
“Don’t worry,” Dad said. “You’ll grow.”
Dad handed Paul some pumpkin seeds. He helped Paul plant them.
“These little seeds will grow into big pumpkins?” Paul asked.
“If you take good care of them,” Dad said.
Paul came out to look at the garden every day. He watered it, and soon tiny sprouts came up. The leaves got bigger. Paul carefully pulled up weeds.
By fall his pumpkin plants had grown. And there were big orange pumpkins!
Paul grabbed Dad to show him. “You took great care of your pumpkin plants!” Dad said.
“Yup! And I’ll take good care of me, so I can get big too.” Paul grinned. “And when I’m big, I can go on a mission just like Eric!”

The story is told that in ancient Rome a group of women were, with vanity, showing their jewels one to another. Among them was Cornelia, the mother of two boys. One of the women said to her, “And where are your jewels?” to which Cornelia responded, pointing to her sons, “These are my jewels.” Under her tutelage, and walking after the virtues of her life, they grew to become [great men] Gaius and Tiberius Gracchus … two of the most persuasive and effective reformers in Roman history. … Said Isaiah of old, “All thy children shall be taught of the Lord; and great shall be the peace of thy children” (Isa. 54:13).
I humbly pray for that peace in behalf of all children.
When you learn about Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ, it brings peace to your heart. It helps you to know that you can keep the commandments and do what is right. Remember to think of Them often, and remember that They love you.

The air in the gym is heavy, thick with the smell of rubber-soled shoes, of basketballs, and of sweat. In one corner, young men do warm up exercises. One of them calls out, “Pasame la pelota!”
In unison, the other players repeat, “Pasame la pelota!”
“What does that mean, Kelly?”
“Pass me the ball,” Kelly answers. “Now try this, ‘a la izquierda,’ That means ‘to the left.’
“A la izquierda!” the group answers.
And so the Spanish language practice continues as the basketball players prepare for a game. It took place at the University of New Mexico, where their team, the Lobos prepared for a game against Brigham Young University (BYU). The Lobos were getting a quick course in Spanish from their team player, Kelly Graves, who served in the Chile Santiago Mission. Many of the players for BYU served Spanish-speaking missions, and sometimes they try to confuse and intimidate opposing teams by speaking Spanish to each other during the games.
“Those BYU players can’t fool me,” said Kelly, “I served a Spanish-speaking mission too. During our warm up time, we’ve been reviewing some Spanish phrases.”
Keith Chapman, a player for the University of Utah, is a returned missionary from the Germany Frankfurt Mission. On his mission Keith learned to keep an eternal perspective on things. “Before my mission, basketball was my whole life. Now I know there are more important things like staying worthy and looking more into the eternities than just to the next game.”
From the time Reid Newey of Roy, Utah, was six years old he had dreamed of playing basketball. He played on community and church teams as a boy and as a teenager. He watched games on television and attended games with his father. Basketball was what he wanted to do with his life.
During his first year at Utah State University, Reid was honored by being selected for the national team made up of first year college students. He was making a meaningful contribution to college basketball. The following year he would have been one of the leading players. But something else was affecting his life. “I read the Book of Mormon all the way through during my first year in college,” said Reid. “And I really gained a great testimony of it. I loved it. I’d rush home from practice just to read it because I loved it so much. From then on I had a different feeling. I went through a lot of prayer and fasting, and it was a personal revelation for me that I should go on a mission.”
Reid had a tremendous experience in the mission field that made everything worth it. “We met this man who was a retired colonel from the army. He was just a great man. He was baptized a week before I left. He drove me to the airport to go home, and we had the opportunity to visit together for a while before my departure. As we spoke, he looked at me and said, ‘Thanks for coming, Elder Newey.’ I didn’t know exactly what he was referring to. But then he took my arm and said, ‘I mean, thanks for coming on your mission.’ That was the greatest experience of my life. It really touched me, and I can’t bear to think what it would be like if I hadn’t experienced that.”
Reid had one more piece of advice. “I’m a basketball player, but everybody has their own obstacles to going on a mission. Everybody can think of something to keep them from going. But I know there isn’t anything worth staying home for. My advice would be to get your life in order and go, no matter what it takes.”
Talk to any of the college players who took time out to serve, and they’ll tell you the same thing. Go! There isn’t one who regrets his service to the Lord.
“The decision I made to go on a mission was the greatest one I made in my life,” says BYU’s star player, Mike Smith. “I made my decision to serve a mission many years ago. I made the decision before other pressures could influence me.”
And the pressure did come. Mike was considered to be one of the best players to come out of any California high school and many large universities wanted him. Mike chose BYU, and in his first year, he was a starting player 27 of 31 games. But id didn’t bother him at all to leave his sports career behind for a couple of years.
There were those who didn’t understand, however. One man in particular, a long-time fan of Mike’s from his hometown, couldn’t understand why Mike would run the risk of sacrificing his career to serve a mission. Mike wrote his non-Latter-day Saint friend a letter from the mission field in which he bore his testimony of the truthfulness of the gospel, the Book of Mormon, and the prophet of the Church. Mike also told him he felt it was a privilege rather than a sacrifice to serve. His friend was so affected by mike’s testimony that he took the letter to a local Catholic priest, who happened to be interested in Mike’s basketball career too. The priest, in turn, read the letter in mass every day for a week, saying it was an example of a youth who was doing all he could to serve the Lord.
“Nothing that happens on the basketball court can compare with experiences in the mission field,” Mike explains. “The feelings you experience on the basketball court are so limited, so temporary. You can make a game-winning shot and the fans love you, but the next play you might accidentally bounce the ball off your foot and that great feeling is gone. But the feelings that you have in the mission field, where the Spirit touches your heart, you’ll never forget.”
Brian Taylor, a BYU player who served in the Spain Seville Mission, will never forget or regret his decision to serve a mission. “I had the great opportunity to go out and open up a new mission in the Canary Islands. I felt like the Apostle Paul. We’d walk down the street and people would ask, ‘What are you young men doing in white shirts and ties? Why aren’t you down at the beach in your swimsuits?’ When we explained what we were doing, they’d be impressed, and they’d listen to us, sometimes 150 people at once. We’d show movies like The First Vision and Families Are Forever on the sides of buildings, and the whole village would come out to watch. We would then bear our testimonies, and the people would weep.”
Brian smiled and shook his head as he remembered, “There is just no comparison between that and playing basketball. You win a game for your team, you feel great, but the feeling only lasts a short time. But just as I talk about being on that island and bearing my testimony to that many people, it makes me feel like cheering again. You just feel good about it, and it never leaves you. It’s that eternal kind of feeling.”
Mike Johnson from Utah Stake University has basketball in his blood. His father and uncles all played at Utah Stake, and Mike wanted to follow in their footsteps. But a mission came first. He left for the England Leeds Mission straight out of high school, not knowing if any of the college basketball recruiters who contacted him before he left would be interested when he returned two years later.
“I wanted to go on a mission,” said Mike. “I wanted to say, ‘I’ve done what I’ve been asked to do , and now, if I need to call on my Heavenly Father for help, I can do it knowing that I have kept his commandment.”
Mike has talked to several young men who are leaving on their missions. He encourages them to work hard and be dedicated. Then he tells them the lesson he learned, “If you go on a mission, when you get back everything will work out well for you.”
These athletes as well as other missionaries soon learn that some of the fruits of their labors are harvested later by others. Alan Astle, a BYU player, had one such experience. While tracting in England, he and his companion kept a record of every door they knocked on. “I remember one lady we tried several times was always too busy to talk to us, but I thought she was a good prospect. Right next to her name in our missionary book I wrote ‘good prospect.’ About four months later I got a letter from this lady, thanking me in countless ways for putting that comment next to her name. The new missionaries in the area saw what I had written, went to see her, and she was baptized. She’s brought about five or six others into the Church so far.”
Jon Hansen, a student at the university of Utah, returned from the Switzerland Geneva Mission just six weeks before school started. In some ways he enjoyed taking a break from basketball. “On your mission all your focus is on spiritual things, service, and spreading the gospel,” said Jon. “A mission is a total change. It’s harder coming home than it is leaving. When you get home, you really have to work hard to stay as close to the Lord as you were on your mission.”
Tom Gneiting, one of BYU’s fourth-year players last year, said returned missionaries do have a few advantages. “Mentally, you’re smarter about the game and you know more about it. You’re not quite as emotional as you were when you were eighteen years old. You’re calmer in the games.”
Brent Stephenson, of BYU, added, “Also it helps you with patience. A lot of the game is having patience and doing the right things at the right time. I think the maturity we gain on a mission helps us.”
Hard work seems to go with missionary service and pursuing sports. Danny Conway, at Utah State University, found that a mission helped him learn how to improve his game. “If you want something, you really have to dedicate yourself and sacrifice. For me, if I’m good, it’s because I work hard and sacrifice something. I’ve never been one of those who can play well without putting forth the effort.”
Brian Taylor of BYU agreed, “After your mission you have the confidence that you know you can do it. You know you can do anything, because you’ve done the hardest thing you’ve ever done in your life.”
Even though these young men love basketball, none of them love basketball more than the Church and their missions.
Jon Judkins, of Utah State, summed up the feelings for the group. “I don’t think there’s anything I could ever do in basketball that would make me feel that joy—the joy of seeing someone join the Church and completely change their lives.”

In April 2008 a mixture of excitement, shock, joy, and gratitude quickly spread among Church members in the Gila Valley, Arizona, when President Thomas S. Monson announced plans to build a temple there. The thing that had been longed for, prayed for, predicted, and prophesied was finally going to happen.
Youth of the Church in the area soon learned they would be participating in a cultural celebration that would accompany the temple dedication, and their excitement grew. For months they practiced for the production, titled “The Place Which God for Us Prepared.” Then on May 22, 2010, the day before the temple dedication, they performed.
The New Era was privileged to visit with some of these youth at that time to find out how these experiences affected them. Here are some of the feelings they expressed about the temple and the opportunity to perform for the President of the Church.
Alexandria Alder, 16, Thatcher Arizona Stake: “Our leaders want all of the youth to be participating because they realize that this temple is going to be for our generation.”
Camille Christensen, 15, Thatcher Arizona Stake: “We’re thankful that the temple is here, and we’re just showing everyone how happy we are to have a temple.”
Mariah Mayberry, 17, St. David Arizona Stake: “We’re showing some things about the people the prophet sent to settle this area, who were my ancestors. So in this celebration I get to show what they were all about and what they did.”
Dallin Green, 16, Safford Arizona Stake: “At the end, during ‘Come, Come, Ye Saints,’ the Spirit was so intensely strong; it was unlike anything else. And you know when it’s the Spirit; there’s no doubt in your mind. It’s a peaceful and happy feeling that cannot be mistaken for anything else. We’ll remember this for the rest of our lives.”
Camille: “For the finale I was right in front of the prophet. He was smiling at me, and I was smiling back. I was waving my flag like I was supposed to, and then he said, ‘Give me that flag.’ I thought it was a joke, but then I thought, ‘OK. I’ll give it to you.’ And so he got up and was waving it with the rest of us. It was really fun. I guess he wanted to be a part of it.”
Reese Jarvis, 16, Pima Arizona Stake: “The Spirit was so strong. I was singing as loud as I could. It’s just a really life-changing experience for me. On the last verse of ‘Come, Come, Ye Saints’ I started bawling. I thought, ‘This isn’t fair. I want to be tough.’ But it didn’t happen. I just couldn’t finish the song. You can’t explain the feelings you had.”
Cassie Scott, 16, Safford Arizona Stake: “My parents were married in the temple, so we get to be together as a family for time and all eternity and not just till death. The temple is something that I’ve always been taught about, but I also think that it has a special place in my heart.”
Camille: “My family is the most important thing to me, and because of the blessings of the temple, I can be with them for eternity. My grandpa passed away a few months ago. He was really close to us. It’s been so hard on us, and it still really is. It’s wonderful to know that through the blessings of the temple, I can see him again if I do what’s right and endure to the end. I know that families are forever through the temple. That’s the greatest gift ever.”
Shelby Peck, 14, Safford Arizona Stake: “My family has pictures of the temple in every room in my house—to remind us of our goal. I’ve grown up knowing that’s the only place I want to get married.”
Dallin: “I know that since my parents were married and sealed in the temple, that I’m sealed to them. It’s a great source of happiness to know that as long as each of us lives righteously, we can be an eternal family.”
Allison Taylor, 18, Sierra Vista Arizona Stake: “Since my dad’s in the military, we move a lot. Every time we’ve moved, the first trip we take is always to the nearest temple, and we take pictures with our parents outside the temple. In our home, in each of our bedrooms, there’s a picture of the temple or a picture of Christ so that we remember where we’re trying to get to and that that should be the center of our life.”
Allison: “When selecting a college, I picked one that has a large LDS branch, a singles branch, so that I could possibly find somebody to take me to the temple so that I can start my own eternal family. And when I looked for a university, I tried to look for a university that was close to a temple.”
Alexandria: “In the future I’ll be going to The Gila Valley Arizona Temple someday—that’s where I want to go and get married. That’s my plan. I won’t settle for anything less.”
Dallin: “I know that I’ll be going to the temple before my mission. If we’re ready and worthy to go to the temple, then we’re worthy to go on a mission. So that’s my goal—to aim the highest I can so that I’ll be ready for my mission and whatever life holds for me.”
Reese: “The temple helps my standards stay high so that I can be ready for callings and to return to my Father in Heaven. If I am worthy to go to the temple, then I am worthy to fulfill my callings and to lead the way I should.”
Allison: “At the dedication we got to sit together as a family. As we were sitting there, we could feel each other’s love and how true the gospel is and how true the plan of salvation is and how we could all be there together.”
Dallin: “We are not the only ones who are aware of this and are excited about this, but people in the spirit world there are excited for it, too. And the temple is for them and for us, to bind us to each other for eternity. The Spirit was so strong. And I think it’s important that we write it down in our journals and remember it in as much detail as we can.”
Mariah: “The prophet’s blessing on the youth makes me feel relieved to know that the President of the Church is praying for the youth, because he’s God’s servant, and I think that when he asks Heavenly Father to bless the youth, I’m pretty sure that the youth will be blessed. So it’s a relief to know that I’ve got a lot of support that I can’t even see.”
Shelby: “The blessing that President Monson gave the youth today at the dedication made me feel he cared for the youth and loved us and wanted us to know that he loved us. It just made me feel special.”
Alexandria: “I just feel blessed that I’m a youth at this time. One of the main blessings was that my testimony has been strengthened so much.”
Camille: “My involvement in the temple cultural celebration has helped me realize how important the temple is in my life, and it strengthened my testimony about the prophet. And I learned that we can have fun in our Church.”
Dallin: “The blessings that the Lord has poured out here are unique. Living here has been a really cool experience, and the temple is the greatest blessing we could have.”
Mariah: “I feel that I’ve been blessed in not just spiritual ways, which have been pouring all over me, but I was blessed with friendships that I wouldn’t have had otherwise.”
Cassie: “I’ve felt and heard and learned a lot. It came to my attention how powerful the Spirit is when you are doing what’s right and when the prophet’s around you.”
Reese: “I’ve had trials in my life, but they all just started going away as this celebration started kicking it up. They all straightened out, and I found the strength to get rid of them.”
Shelby: “I learned the importance of the temple and how much we center our religion around the temple. Having the prophet come down for the temple dedication, who is the mouthpiece for Christ, just helped me realize that the prophet is important and that he loves us.”
Allison: “I’ve gained a better understanding of the temple and how temples relate to us. This is part of our whole life. It’s something we need forever.”

In the tearful days after a wildfire devastated entire neighborhoods in California’s Sonoma County in October 2017, Elder Ronald A. Rasband of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles traveled to affected communities to be with the Latter-day Saints.
He was on a mission of ministering. He and Sister Melanie Rasband comforted fire-weary members in their meetinghouses and at the edges of their charred homes.
And wherever he went, members came forward to shake his hand. It was a gesture of appreciation. They thanked the Apostle for his support. But each handshake communicated a common sentiment: “I sustain you.”
This means that just as members deeply impacted by the Santa Rosa fires offered sustaining support to Elder Rasband, members worldwide can be lifted even as they lift each member of the Twelve.

"What were you assigned to bring?” Melissa asked Clara as they walked to Sister Wilson’s house for their Achievement Day activity.
“Four cups of flour,” Clara answered. “How about you?”
“Some yeast.”
“I wonder what we’re doing today. Hannah is bringing flour, too. Sister Wilson has kept it such a secret.”
“I know,” Melissa agreed. “All she would say was that it’s going to affect many ward members this Sunday.”
Still talking about the mystery, the girls soon came to Sister Wilson’s house. Before Clara could knock, Sister Wilson opened the door and invited them in. Tina, Jenny, and Susan were already sitting on the couch. A tape of Primary songs was playing softly in the background. Just as Clara and Melissa sat down, Hannah arrived. Now all the girls were present, and the mystery project would soon be revealed.
Sister Wilson offered the opening prayer, asking that they might understand the importance of the great sacrifice Jesus Christ made for them. She also prayed that the food they would prepare might be blessed for the sake of all who would eat it.
After the prayer, they made their way to the kitchen with their assigned ingredients. A couple of bowls and a mixer waited on the counter.
“Let’s see,” Sister Wilson began, “who was assigned to bring the yeast?”
“I was.” Melissa stepped forward.
“Good. We’re going to put the yeast into some warm water and let it dissolve. Meanwhile, we’ll put some of the other ingredients into this larger bowl. Who has the flour, sugar, and salt?”
“I do,” Clara, Hannah, and Jenny answered together.
As the girls worked, they visited, laughing and giggling. Amidst the chatter, Clara asked, “What are we making, and how will it affect the ward members?”
“Does anyone have any idea?” Sister Wilson asked.
“Are we making cookies?” Susan asked.
Sister Wilson smiled. “No, we are making the bread that will be used for the sacrament.”
The giggling stopped suddenly, and the girls spoke almost in whispers as a quiet reverence filled the room. They weren’t making bread just to learn how, but for use in a sacred ordinance!
When the yeast was dissolved, Susan poured in the milk she had brought and Tina added her oil. Then the girls combined the liquid and dry ingredients and mixed them together. They took turns kneading the dough on a flour-dusted counter. When it was smooth, the dough was covered with a cloth and allowed to rise. Then it was punched down, divided in half, shaped into loaves, and placed in loaf pans. While the dough rose a second time, they went into the next room for a lesson on the sacrament.
“Can anyone tell me what the bread and water represent?” Sister Wilson asked.
“The flesh and blood of Jesus Christ,” Melissa answered.
“That is right. Shortly before His crucifixion, Jesus gathered His Apostles around Him in an upstairs room. He knew that He was going to die, and He wanted the Apostles to always remember Him so that they could be strong and faithful to His teachings. He blessed bread and broke it into pieces. He gave it to His disciples to eat in memory of His body. He blessed wine and gave it to them to drink in memory of His blood.
“When we partake of the sacrament, we renew the covenant we made when we were baptized. Can anyone tell me what we promised to do?”
“I know,” Clara said. “We promised to keep the commandments.”
“We promised to remember Jesus Christ,” Jenny added.
“Very good,” Sister Wilson said. “We also promised to take upon us the name of Jesus Christ. The way we act, the things we do, the words we say should let others know that we are followers of Christ. The Lord promised us that if we keep our covenant, we will always have His Spirit to be with us.
“Is there anything special we should do during the sacrament service?” Sister Wilson continued.
Hannah raised her hand. “My mom always tells us that we should be reverent.”
“She’s right. We should also be prayerful and think of the Atonement. We need to examine our lives, looking for ways to improve ourselves and become more like Christ. And we should think about the promises we are renewing.”
After more discussion about the sacrament, the lesson ended. By then the dough had risen again, and it was time to put the pans into the oven. While the bread baked, the girls planned upcoming activities.
When the loaves were taken from the oven, they were a golden brown. “After they cool, I’ll slice them. Then I’ll give them to Bishop Carmichael. He’ll make sure they are used on Sunday.”
On Sunday, as the girls sat with their families in sacrament meeting, they sang the sacrament hymn reverently. They listened carefully as a priest blessed the bread, and when they said “amen,” they really meant it. Then the deacons passed the bread. When Clara took a piece from the tray, she was suddenly filled with gratitude for all the Savior had done for her. She thought about the Last Supper and what Jesus had taught His disciples about the sacrament. She knew that there were things she could do better to show that she was trying to keep the commandments.
Clara glanced quickly at Melissa out of the corner of her eye. From the look on her friend’s face, she knew that the sacrament had touched her heart, too.
After the meeting, the girls stopped in the foyer to talk a moment before going home. “I’m glad Sister Wilson let us help make the sacrament bread,” Jenny said.
“I thought it made the sacrament extra special,” Tina added.
“It wasn’t just the bread that made it special for me,” Melissa replied thoughtfully. “It was really thinking about the sacrifice of Jesus Christ and what the sacrament means in my life.”
Clara smiled. “I felt the same way. It wasn’t the bread that made the difference. It was the Savior.”

In June 2022, the cancer had returned for the third time in 4 places! I‘ve never been an anxious person but waiting for the result was horrible. My husband and I hugged and cried yet again. We said a prayer to ask Heavenly Father to help us get through it. Another talk from President Nelson came to mind. It was Let God Prevail.2
This time the monthly chemotherapy has affected me psychologically. I‘m a strong-willed person and I‘ve never said, “Why me?”. Instead, I ask the Lord what I need to learn. My prayers have never been as heartfelt. Yes, sometimes I cry out during the night when I‘m so fatigued with my chemo. We have a picture of Christ on our bedroom wall, and when I‘m awake during the night I ask for His help. I have the words ‘Let God Prevail‘ in my mind every day. Whenever my husband is stressed about his business, he knows I‘m going to smile and he says, “Let God Prevail.”
Although we‘re going through these trials, and I still have down days where I cry and feel hopeless, most days I Let God Prevail and feel at peace. I‘m still serving as our Ward Relief Society President, and blessed to be able to help the members with their trials in their lives.

After recovering from serious health challenges, Elder Robert D. Hales shared the following in general conference: “On a few occasions, I told the Lord that I had surely learned the lessons to be taught and that it wouldn’t be necessary for me to endure any more suffering. Such entreaties seemed to be of no avail, for it was made clear to me that this purifying process of testing was to be endured in the Lord’s time and in the Lord’s own way. … I … learned that I would not be left alone to meet these trials and tribulations but that guardian angels would attend me. There were some that were near angels in the form of doctors, nurses, and most of all my sweet companion, Mary. And on occasion, when the Lord so desired, I was to be comforted with visitations of heavenly hosts that brought comfort and eternal reassurances in my time of need.”17

Preparing for and faithfully serving a mission has never been and will never be easy or convenient. The reasons not to serve can seem overwhelming unless we put our trust in the Lord. I joined the Church in Germany shortly before turning 18, the only one in my family to do so. Taking two years of my life to serve a mission was never in my plans. My future beyond my mission was uncertain. My family did not want me to go. My friends did not want me to go. My soccer team did not want me to go. But the Lord wanted me to go, and so I went. And the blessings I received from serving a mission can hardly be put into words. Whatever the Lord commands is always right, and his blessings are always sure.

Jared carefully recorded the last bit of information for his sixth-grade science project—comparing the differences between plants watered with tap water and those watered with distilled water.
“There,” he said in satisfaction. “All done.”
He ran into the laundry room. “Mom, I finished the experiment. Do you want to see it?”
Mom finished folding a towel and smiled. “Of course.”
Jared led her into the kitchen, where the two sets of plants occupied a shelf by the big glass door. When he saw the plants, he stopped in his tracks. “Oh, no!” he cried.
Kaitlyn, Jared’s three-year-old sister, looked up and smiled, her hands covered with dirt. Potting soil and crushed plants were strewn across the floor.
“You ruined my project!” Jared wiped angry tears from his eyes. “You wreck everything I have.”
“Jared, your sister didn’t mean to do anything wrong,” Mom said quietly.
“Sure,” Jared said bitterly. “Just like she didn’t mean to write all over my geography homework last week. Just like she didn’t mean to spill milk on my book report. Just like she—”
“That’s enough,” Mom said.
Jared recognized the tone in his mother’s voice and knew he’d said too much.
“Tell Jared you’re sorry,” Mom said to Kaitlyn.
Kaitlyn’s bottom lip trembled. “I’m sorry.”
Normally, Jared couldn’t stay angry at his little sister for very long, but this was different. He had spent a whole month caring for the plants and recording the differences between the two sets for the sixth-grade science fair. Now they were destroyed. He wouldn’t have anything to show in the fair next week.
He cleaned up the mess as well as he could, but he couldn’t save the plants. He dumped them into the big trash can in the garage. In his room, he slammed his fist into his baseball mitt. All his work had been for nothing.
A few minutes later, he heard a knock at his door.
“Jared, can I come in?” Mom called.
Reluctantly, he got up and opened the door.
Mom wrapped her arm around his shoulders. “I know you’re disappointed. Is there anything I can do?”
He shook his head.
“I’m sorry about the experiment.” she said.
“Me, too,” he said, still slamming the ball into his mitt.
“Kaitlyn made a mistake. Can you forgive her?” When Jared didn’t answer, his mother turned and quietly left the room.
When another knock sounded at his door, Jared ignored it. The door inched open, and Kaitlyn stood there. “I’m sorry.”
Jared looked at his sister’s red eyes. For a moment, his heart softened. Then he remembered how hard he’d worked on the experiment. He had hoped to win a prize with it. “Go away.”
Kaitlyn sniffled and rubbed her eyes before closing the door behind her.
Jared asked to be excused from dinner. He knew his parents were disappointed in him, but he didn’t care. He tried to do his homework but couldn’t concentrate. After staring at the same page of his history book for five minutes, he gave up. He got ready for bed, then knelt down, intending to say his prayers as he did every night. The words refused to come.
He didn’t sleep very well. He kept tossing and turning, remembering the hurt in Kaitlyn’s eyes when he’d refused to speak to her. He tried to push away the image. Kaitlyn had wrecked his experiment. He didn’t know if he could ever forgive her.
He thought about the word forgive and recalled part of the blessing his father had given him after his baptism and confirmation. “There will be times in your life when you need to seek forgiveness. I bless you with the meekness of heart to do so. There will also be times when you must forgive others. Remember the example of the Savior when you are faced with such times. Forgiveness is a gift. Use it and you will be blessed.”
The following morning, Jared trudged to school, his heart heavy. But it wasn’t the ruined experiment that filled his thoughts—it was Kaitlyn. He told himself he had nothing to feel guilty about, but he couldn’t erase the picture of Kaitlyn’s unhappy face from his mind.
At school, he explained to his science teacher what had happened. Mr. MacKade laid a hand on Jared’s shoulder. “I know you’re disappointed. You put a lot of work into your experiment.” His teacher tapped a finger against the notebook he always carried. “Did you take photos of it?”
Jared nodded. He’d asked his father if he could use his camera to take photos of the plants at different stages.
“We’ll show the photos instead,” Mr. MacKade said. “It won’t be the same as displaying the plants themselves, but it’ll be the next best thing.”
“Thanks, Mr. MacKade. I’ll do that.”
Jared slipped into his seat. He should have felt better, but the ache in his heart remained. He couldn’t concentrate on his math problems or his spelling test. He could not even choke down the sandwich and cupcake his mother had packed in his lunch. All he could see was Kaitlyn’s face, her quivering lips and tear-reddened eyes. No science experiment was worth the pain he’d caused his little sister.
By the end of school, Jared knew what he had to do. Kaitlyn had been wrong to ruin his plants, but that did not excuse how he had treated her. He hurried home from school.
“Mom, I’m home. Where’s Kaitlyn?” he called, slamming the door behind him.
Mom looked up from the Primary manual she was studying. “She’s in her room.” His mother looked like she wanted to say something else.
“Don’t worry, Mom,” Jared said. “Everything’s going to be all right.”
Jared raced up the stairs and knocked on Kaitlyn’s door. “Kaitlyn, it’s me.” He heard a muffled “Come in.” He pushed open the door.
Kaitlyn was sitting on her bed, her arms looped around her knees. “Are you still mad at me?” she asked in a small voice.
Jared crossed the room to sit beside her. “No, Kaitlyn. I’m not angry anymore. I’m sorry I yelled at you. I know you only wanted to help.” He hugged her and asked, “How would you like to go to the park with me?”
Kaitlyn nodded and gave him a big smile.
That evening Jared labeled the pictures he had taken of the plants. Kaitlyn played with her dolls beside him. A quiet feeling of peace enveloped him. And when he knelt by his bed that night to say his prayers, he didn’t have any trouble finding the words.

Many of the most important lessons Robert learned as a child came from the example of his parents and from his experiences in the Queens Ward. As deacons quorum president, Robert learned to respect his priesthood leaders after an experience with the bishop. At that time, the ward met in the Citizen’s League Hall. The sacrament table was on the main floor in front of the stage. The deacons used to take the sacrament trays, climb up onto the stage, put the trays away, and then run and jump off the stage, grab another tray, and repeat the process until all the trays were put away. “I came sailing off of that stage,” says Elder Hales, “and our new bishop was standing there. He caught me in flight. I said, ‘Well, everyone else is doing it,’ and he said, ‘Yes, but you are the president of the deacons quorum.’ The bishop said he wanted the sacrament taken care of properly, with reverence. That was when I began to learn an important lesson. I’ve appreciated priesthood leaders who have taken the time to teach me.”

Life was already challenging for many Venezuelans before the COVID-19 pandemic hit in 2020, but then even just basic survival became tough. For 11-year-old Sebastian and his family, strength from Jesus Christ was needed to stay upbeat and happy during sad times. “I feel bad when we can’t buy essential products like food, clothing, and medicine,” Sebastian says. “But I have faith the Lord will continue to bless us. I feel blessed that I was able to receive my patriarchal blessing. It tells me of things I was promised before I came to earth.”

Focusing on Jesus Christ as part of last year’s youth theme (“I can do all things through Christ” [Philippians 4:13]) proved to be a big help. “Because of the difficulties facing my country, the youth theme from last year reminded me that Christ will help me overcome and do all things through Him,” Sebastian says.

It’s been a long journey, but Sebastian and his family have seen blessings and hope along the way. “The Lord lightens my burdens,” he says. “When I get sad, I pray, study the scriptures, and read my patriarchal blessing. Thanks to Him, our family stationery business that we started three years ago has had more success this year. I would like to tell other young people that they should always be ready to rely upon Jesus Christ. When I do that, I am able to overcome my challenges.”

Several years ago, a big storm blew over our home during the night. After just a couple of minutes and several flashes of lightning, our little Manon climbed into bed with us. My wife Véronique, wanting to reassure our daughter, carried her over to the window and said: “Don’t be afraid. Look how beautiful the lights in the sky are”. But at that very moment, a bolt of lightning ripped through the sky with a frightening crack. Véronique stepped back in fear, and Manon was even more terrified!
As I watched the power of the elements that night, I could not help but think of our Savior Jesus Christ, the Creator of all things. I also thought of our Heavenly Father who gave His Only Son to save us. They accomplished the most significant act in the universe: clearing the way for us to attain eternal life.
I then thought of Moses, who was overcome with fear when the Savior asked him to deliver Israel. The Lord said to him:
“Who hath made man’s mouth? or who maketh the dumb, or deaf, or the seeing, or the blind? have not I the Lord? Now therefore go, and I will be with thy mouth, and teach thee what thou shalt say. ”
The Lord’s voice must have sounded like thunder throughout Moses’ body! Like Moses, we have a responsibility to gather Israel into a land of peace, into the stakes of Zion. Whatever our ability to express ourselves, we must move forward in faith. Do we feel capable of doing what the Lord wants us to do? Can we feel our responsibility in the gathering of Israel? Of course, it starts with ourselves, our spouse and our own children.
While my wife and daughter were very frightened by the storm, I thought to myself: “I hope it rains now, because it’s been so hot!” Different perspectives lead to different actions. Where do we stand when life does not lead us down the easiest path, or the path we wanted to take? As the storm grew increasingly fierce, I thought as well of Joseph Smith, who was often overwhelmed by all the responsibilities he had been given at such a young age. He frequently fell to his knees to plead with our Heavenly Father. Perhaps one of the most moving of these moments took place in Liberty Jail, when he felt abandoned by the Lord. The Lord said to him:
"And if thou shouldst be cast into the pit, or into the hands of murderers, and the sentence of death passed upon thee; if thou be cast into the deep; if the billowing surge conspire against thee; if fierce winds become thine enemy; if the heavens gather blackness, and all the elements combine to hedge up the way; and above all, if the very jaws of hell shall gape open the mouth wide after thee, know thou, my son, that all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good. The Son of Man hath descended below them all. Art thou greater than he? …therefore, fear not what man can do, for God shall be with you forever and ever. "
These words must have felt like a clap of thunder throughout his sick and weary body. But because they came from our Savior, they gave him the strength and hope he needed to move forward, despite his hardships. Do we fall to our knees enough to receive His strength and hope?
The Lord often uses the gentle, calm voice of the Holy Spirit to speak to us, to comfort us, to warn us, to guide us, and to soothe us. He does so in moments of doubt, but also in times of turmoil, despair or distress. To ensure that we always hear this little voice, we must get used to hearing it, or rather feeling it, in quiet moments. Then, however gentle it may be, it will penetrate our hearts and minds like a bolt of lightning.
I so testify in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.