Gospel Story Finder

I lived in Salt Lake City for nine years, and all my friends were members of the Church. I got the idea that just about everybody was a Mormon. I was always taught to choose good Mormons for my friends, and finding them was never a problem. But then my family moved to Virginia and things really changed.
Our first Sunday there I found there weren’t any fellows my age in my ward. That whole summer I shot baskets out on my driveway by myself. Finally at the end of the summer, two new boys moved into the ward, and we became good friends.
In September I really felt alone when I found out I was the only Mormon in the freshman class in high school. My two Church friends went to a different school, but almost every day after school we would get together. If it hadn’t been for them, I would have been really lonely.
At first I didn’t try to make friends at school because I was uncomfortable around nonmembers. They had different habits and beliefs. But when I became involved in sports, I began to make friends at school. Soon everyone knew I was a Latter-day Saint. My nickname came to be “Mormon.” Everywhere I went someone would say “Hey, Mormon!” or “How’s it going, Mormon?” Soon I became very used to the fact that to my school friends I was “The Mormon.” I was proud of the fact that I was a Latter-day Saint, so my nickname didn’t bother me at all.
Because everyone knew I was a member of the Church, I had a great responsibility to set the right kind of example. It wasn’t always easy to do this. I was on the varsity football and track teams. If you have ever been in a locker room, you know what kind of bad language and shenanigans often go on. I always watched myself to see that I never took part in anything I knew was wrong.
Soon everyone came to know I didn’t smoke, drink, tell dirty jokes, or swear. After I began dating some of the girls at school, they all soon learned that I tried to carry my Church training into every facet of my life.
Still most of the activities I participated in were with my Church friends. I didn’t hang around with school crowds too much except in classes and practices because their morals were different from mine. When I did go out with them, I found they got most of their excitement from smoking, drinking, and being immoral, so I stayed around my Church friends.
One day one of my closest school friends came up to me and said, “Dayle, you’re one of my best friends, but what do you ever do for excitement?” That statement really made me think. It helped me realize that even though I was trying to live God’s commandments, I wasn’t setting a good example because I never showed my nonmember friends how much joy you can have from living the commandments. To my school friends it seemed like I had a boring life because they had never seen me having fun.
After thinking about this for awhile, I set myself a new challenge. I was going to show my school friends there were more fun ways than theirs of having a good time. I wanted to show them it wasn’t really necessary to smoke, drink, tell dirty jokes, or swear to have a great time.
I started by inviting everyone to go swimming after track practice one night. We all had fun cliff diving, swimming, and rope swinging. Later I had a few get-togethers—without liquor—at my house after some of our football games. I invited some of the kids to the Church dances. Now and then I went on double dates with some of them and had really good times. I tried to set an example by being with them and showing them how I enjoy life.
After awhile I got very close to some of the kids at school. They were really great friends. They respected me for my beliefs, and I didn’t ever look down on them for what they did. A couple of them even made up a song during my senior year. Whenever I walked into the locker room, they would bunch together and pretend they were the Tabernacle Choir. Half of them would stand in a row on the locker room bench and the other half would make a row on the floor. The leader would hum to get them in tune and then, directing with his hands, would say, “Ready, begin.” They would sing a song that went like this:
We are Mormons, Woo-Woo-oo, We are Mormons, Woo-Woo-oo.
We do not smoke; we do not drink;
We do not swear; we do not cheat;
We do not lie; we don’t even play with women.
We are Mormons, Woo-Woo-oo, Woo-Woo-oo.
After each performance I would just turn red and laugh with them. That tune really helped me remember who I was.
At the end of the season, one of my friends who had made up the song told me that he respected me for living my religion, and he wished he was that strong. It made me feel great to hear him say that. I told him it wasn’t a matter of strength; it was more a matter of getting into certain habits and resisting temptation.
I never converted any of my friends, but I showed them that you really can be happy living God’s commandments. Maybe someday the missionaries will come to their doors and reach them. I hope they remember the fun and active lifestyle that is possible through living a clean life.

Kay Lynn Wakefield learned an important lesson from a woman who worked at the Garden Tomb. “As we were hurrying along,” says Sister Wakefield, “the sounds of a clear soprano voice filled the air. I felt so drawn to the ethereal sound that I left the crowd and went to find out where it was coming from. And then I saw her! A little English lady sweeping one of the paths in the garden.
“As I visited with her, she expressed to me the joy she feels each day as she sweeps the paths at the Garden Tomb, often singing all the way. I told her that the Tabernacle Choir was going to sing in the Garden Tomb that day. Her eyes filled with tears, and she said, ‘Yes, I know, and I feel so privileged to be here today to hear them.’ Then I embraced her and left to again join the crowd. Once again I had been reminded not to be so intent on reaching the final destination that I forget to enjoy the journey.”

As Fia returned once again to England, she was befriended by a group of missionaries on their way to Europe. The missionaries took Fia to the mission home with them in Liverpool, England, where Elder Heber J. Grant of the Council of the Twelve presided with his wife and young daughters. Sister Grant found Fia sobbing in the hall as she waited with the elders, who were to be interviewed by their mission president. Through an interpreter, Sister Grant learned of Fia’s unsuccessful attempts to go to Zion. Also discovering that the young girl had no place to go and no money, Sister Grant felt compassion for Fia and asked if she would like to remain at the mission home to work as a maid. Fia gratefully accepted, though she had never had any experience as a domestic servant.
As they became better acquainted, Sister Grant realized that Fia had received a good education and possessed impressive musical talents. In spite of the fact that she had never done housework before, Fia knew how things should be done. She took pride in her work. Her disposition was so delightful that the whole family soon grew to love her. They marveled at her abilities, her patience, and her sweet spirit. They said she never spoke a cross word but always sang and gave praise to her Heavenly Father for the blessings she had received. Along with housekeeping duties, her first responsibility was the care of the two youngest Grant girls, Emily and Frances. Elder and Sister Grant traveled frequently on the continent, supervising the many areas of the European Mission, and they felt fortunate to know their daughters were under Fia’s care.
Fia believed in cold-water “Swedish” baths. Without a water heater in the bathroom, those who wanted a warm bath had to heat the water downstairs and carry it upstairs to the bathtub a bucket at a time, so Swedish baths were much more convenient. Each morning Fia filled the tub with cold water, tying a bag of rock salt to the faucet and letting the water run over it to simulate sea water. The squirming, protesting little girls were then given their morning “dip in the ocean.” After a quick bath, Fia rubbed them vigorously with a large fluffy towel. They said later that they hated their baths, but they loved Fia so dearly they were willing to endure them to please her.

At Philadelphia, Elder John E. Page lost the spirit of the mission and Orson continued on to Jerusalem alone. During his travels Orson met many notable personalities, some of whom were amazed at and interested in his mission. He enjoyed his travels through Europe and while waiting for his visa in Munich, learned to write and speak German.
Tired and weary after several months’ travel of nearly 10,000 miles, Orson’s enthusiasm was revitalized as he finally arrived at the sacred city of Jerusalem. Here he carefully walked along a dark, narrow street, avoiding the heavily loaded camels that traveled toward him. In the early morning hour he passed through the ancient gate in the old decayed wall near the brook, Kidron. As Orson crossed over the small brook and climbed up the gentle slope of the hill, bright rays of sunshine encompassed the Mount of Olives. It was a magnificent sight as he gazed upon the surrounding countryside from the top of the mount.
There, alone, on Sunday, October 24, 1841, Orson wrote and offered the prayer dedicating Palestine for the return of the Jews and for the building of a temple in the future. For the first time in 1,800 years, an apostle stood again on the Mount of Olives. After his prayer Orson Hyde built two stone altars patterned after those of ancient Israel for memorials. The first memorial was on the Mount of Olives and the second on Mt. Moriah.

Let me share with you, brethren, a touching experience that illustrates this assurance.

Brother Edwin Q. Cannon, Jr., was a missionary to Germany in 1938, where he loved the people and served faithfully. At the conclusion of his mission, he returned home to Salt Lake City. He married and commenced his own business.

Forty years passed by. One day Brother Cannon came to my office and said he had been pruning his missionary slides. Among those slides he had kept since his mission were several which he could not specifically identify. Every time he had planned to discard those few slides, he had been impressed to keep them, although he was at a loss as to why. They were photographs taken by Brother Cannon during his mission when he served in Stettin, Germany, and were of a family—a mother, a father, a small girl, a small boy. Brother Cannon knew their surname was Berndt but could remember nothing more about them. He indicated that he understood there was a Berndt who was a Regional Representative in Germany, and he thought, although the possibility was remote, that this Berndt might have some connection with the Berndts who had lived in Stettin and who were depicted in the photographs. Before disposing of the slides, he thought he would check with me.

I told Brother Cannon I was leaving shortly for Berlin, where I anticipated that I would see Dieter Berndt, the Regional Representative, and that I would show the slides to him to see if there were any relationship and if he wanted them. There was a possibility I would also see Brother Berndt’s sister, who was married to Dietmar Matern, a stake president in Hamburg.

The Lord didn’t even let me get to Berlin before His purposes were accomplished. I was in Zurich, Switzerland, boarding the flight to Berlin, when who should also board the plane but Dieter Berndt. He sat next to me, and I told him I had some old slides of people named Berndt from Stettin. I handed them to him and asked if he could identify those shown in the photographs. As he looked at them carefully he began to weep. He said, “Our family lived in Stettin during the war. My father was killed when an Allied bomb struck the plant where he worked. Not long afterward, the Russians invaded Poland and the area of Stettin. My mother took my sister and me and fled from the advancing enemy. Everything had to be left behind, including any photographs we had. Brother Monson, I am the little boy pictured in these slides, and my sister is the little girl. The man and the woman are our dear parents. Until today, I have had no photographs of our childhood in Stettin or of my father.”

Wiping away my own tears, I told Brother Berndt the slides were his. He placed them carefully and lovingly in his briefcase.

At the next general conference, when Dieter Berndt, Regional Representative, visited Salt Lake City, he paid a visit to Brother and Sister Edwin Cannon, Jr., that he might express in person his own gratitude for the inspiration that came to Brother Cannon to retain these precious slides and that he followed that inspiration in keeping them for forty years.

One incident in the Prophet’s life had a powerful influence on me as a young man:
“At a late hour of the night Joseph was lying down and slumbering heavily from weariness. … A few moments later an infuriated mob burst the door open and … seized him and were dragging him from the house when Emma screamed. …
“… A group gathered … to hold a council. … After the council was concluded, the leading mobocrats declared that they would not kill him but would strip him naked and whip and tear his flesh. … They thrust a reeking tar paddle into his face and attempted to force it down his throat. …
“After they left Joseph, he attempted to rise, but fell back again from pain and exhaustion. He succeeded, however, in tearing the tar away from his face so that he could breathe freely. …
“Securing some covering for his person, the Prophet entered the house, and spent the night in cleansing his body and dressing his wounds. …
“The next morning, being the Sabbath, the people assembled at the usual hour of worship. With them came some of the mobbers. …
“With his flesh all bruised and scarred, Joseph went to the meeting and stood before the congregation, facing his assailants of the previous night calmly and manfully. He preached a powerful sermon and on the same day baptized three believers into the Church.”1

by Kent Howcroft
Like most priests quorums, the priests of the American Fork 25th Ward, American Fork Utah North Stake, like to have fun on a super activity each summer. This year we decided to expand the activity to include a service project as well. And it turned out that the service project was the highlight of the trip!
We covered a need for help in constructing a prefabricated building in Many Farms, Arizona, a town of 5,000 in the Four Corners area where the borders of Utah, Arizona, New Mexico, and Colorado meet. Many Farms is on the Navajo Indian Reservation.
The first night of our activity, a recently returned missionary shared some of his experiences with us in a fireside. He had seen the Spirit touch the lives of people in Argentina, and his testimony touched us. One of our priests said he felt more than ever that he wanted to prepare for a mission.
The next morning we had a rafting competition in a nearby reservoir and went swimming to cool off. Then it was off to Many Farms, where we met the full-time missionaries working in the area. Our priests got to see firsthand what life in the mission field is like. They had an opportunity to work with the missionaries and to hear the conversion story of Elder Powell, a missionary from New York.
Then we started work on the building. As leaders, we had been concerned that the desert heat might make conditions unbearable. But we were blessed with rain and cool, cloudy weather, and we were able to finish the project on time. The work went quickly, and we all enjoyed doing something to help someone else. It was a super activity we will never forget.

Just prior to going overseas during World War II, while we were on maneuvers in the Louisiana-Texas area, my platoon sergeant, Sergeant Tiffin, came to me during a ten-minute break and said, “Lieutenant Bennett, you know and I know that we will be going overseas in the near future, and that when we go overseas it will not be long until we find ourselves in combat. When we get into combat, sooner or later some of us will be required to take the life of one or more of the enemy. I have been taught that if this should happen, I will be held responsible for the blood which I shed, even though I am a victim of circumstance. This is bothering me. Lieutenant, I know that you are a Mormon. What does your church teach regarding this matter?”
What an excellent opportunity for me to share with Sergeant Tiffin the statement of the First Presidency to all LDS servicemen throughout the world, which statement was part of the servicemen’s kit given to each LDS soldier who entered military service. Similar instructions are found in the servicemen’s kits that are made available to our servicemen today.
For the balance of that day, whenever we had a ten-minute break, Sergeant Tiffin and I continued the discussion. Each time we met, he brought others with him; and when we went into the bivouac area at night, the discussions continued into the wee hours. What a tremendous opportunity to share the teachings of the gospel of Jesus Christ!

An early-morning seminary student, Cameron K. was used to starting his day in a spiritual way. “Seminary gives me that spiritual boost for the day. I wanted to get that boost,” Cameron says. And summer vacation was no exception. When the temple baptistry opened each summer morning at 6:30 a.m., Cameron was there.
Every morning, Tuesday through Saturday, Cameron left his home before 6:00 a.m., his bike lights flashing in the dark as he pedaled the five-mile route to the temple. “The streets were quiet. It felt peaceful,” Cameron says. Since he was riding a single-speed bike, enduring the initial uphill climb was his biggest challenge. “Whenever I would crest the top of the hill, I would start looking to see where the temple was. I was able to see a glimpse of the angel Moroni,” he says. “It helped me focus on the temple.”
While doing baptisms for the dead, Cameron tried to focus on the people. “Sometimes I’d think about a person as I was doing an ordinance for him, trying to feel better connected with him. There were a few times when a certain name would be read for the baptism and I kind of knew that person was happy his work was being done.”
“One time when I was leaving the temple,” says Cameron, “the temple president was at the front door. He reached out to me and said, ‘Thank you for coming.’ It made me really want to come back. It made me realize that it really is a huge work that we do in the temple. It made me want to be even more a part of it.”
By summer’s end, Cameron had made over 40 round trips to the temple, biking over 400 miles.

And one of those special Saturdays was a stake sports day. The youth of the London England Hyde Park Stake were meeting for stake competition in five-sided football and volleyball. Five-sided football is a fast-paced indoor version of soccer with goals marked on the walls on either end of the cultural hall. Before the action got started, the referee went over the rules with the ward teams. When he got to the rule about no physical contact between players, everyone just laughed. Spectators were out of the way up on the stage, and it was soon evident that that was the only safe place to be since the side walls took the brunt of flying footballs and bodies.
With feet flying, sometimes hitting the ball or the opposing team’s shins, lots of coaching from the sidelines, cheering at every good move by both defensive and offensive players, and a few dives against the walls to gain possession of the ball, one ward team emerged battered and bruised but victorious. So much for “no physical contact.” The stake championship team would go on to play in regionals. After the good-humored intensity of competition, the young men were willing to talk about the Church.

Once when I prayed about how I could better follow the Savior, I was reminded that I could be doing the actions above more faithfully. While I was very consistent with some of them, others of them seemed to rotate within openings in my schedule.

With the inspiration to strive to be consistent at all of them, I was also reminded of two prophetic messages:
1 Nephi 3:7: “I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded, for I know that the Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save he shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the thing which he commandeth them.”
When President Henry B. Eyring, Second Counselor in the First Presidency, spoke in general conference of writing down evidences of the hand of the Lord in his family’s life each day, he said: “I wrote down a few lines every day for years. I never missed a day no matter how tired I was or how early I would have to start the next day.”4

I decided to put my trust in Nephi’s words and remember that the Lord would not give me any commandment (or collection of them) that He wouldn’t help me keep. And I also was inspired by President Eyring’s commitment to faithfully obey the invitation to journal daily even when he felt too tired to do so. If, with his busy schedule, he could stay obedient when tired, then I knew I could as well.

So I decided to put more faith in the Lord’s ability to help me accomplish all that He invites me to do. I prayed to Heavenly Father and I also sought to “counsel with the Lord” (Alma 37:37) to know the appropriate time or frequency I should devote to each invitation and commandment. I knew that some would be easy to accomplish because they were already part of my daily discipleship. And I also acknowledged that I may not be able to do some activities, like family history, for as long as other people may be able to. But I knew I could do something regularly. I also trusted that in these situations, as President Russell M. Nelson promised, “the Lord loves effort.”5 I knew that He also values the widow’s mite (see Luke 21:1–4) and whatever I was able to give. After all, we each can provide different offerings at different times in our lives or even in each day or week.

After prayerfully putting together a plan about how to accomplish the things I wasn’t doing as regularly as I could be, I prayed for divine help and strength to act on that plan. I also relied on the promise from President Ezra Taft Benson (1899–1994) when he counseled:
“When we put God first, all other things fall into their proper place or drop out of our lives. Our love of the Lord will govern the claims for our affection, the demands on our time, the interests we pursue, and the order of our priorities.
“We should put God ahead of everyone else in our lives.”6

I decided to prioritize the Lord in my schedule, in my actions, and in my heart and to leave my metaphorical “fishing nets” and better consecrate my life to Him.

Did that mean doing spiritual things 24 hours a day? Not in the sense of spending every minute reading scriptures or doing family history. But it did mean intentionally inviting Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ into each part of my day. In turning my heart to Them that way, I was reminded that all things temporal are spiritual as well (see Doctrine and Covenants 29:34–35) and that the Lord can be my focus in all my labors (see Alma 34:17–27). And it meant staying focused on what matters most as I strive to become a more intentional disciple.

Small changes started to make a difference and provide a path to improved obedience. If I was on my phone for a few minutes in the morning, I could use that time on FamilySearch’s Family Tree app instead of scrolling randomly on social media. While I waited in a line, I could make a quick call, send a text to minister to a friend, or talk with someone near me.7 I ended the day with my journal instead of with entertainment. I woke up with a better focus and a daily schedule to prioritize spiritual study before other distractions of the day arose. I followed President Nelson’s counsel to “make an appointment regularly with the Lord—to be in His holy house—then keep that appointment with exactness and joy.”8 I became aware of moments where I would usually become distracted by good things and instead tried to use that time for the best things.9

And you know what? I was able to fit everything into my schedule and still have time to enjoy other things. The mathematics of my time seemed to defy logic, yet I knew it was another way the Lord performs miracles in our lives that we can’t explain.

As Sister Michelle D. Craig, Second Counselor in the Young Women General Presidency, taught: “You and I can give what we have to Christ, and He will multiply our efforts. What you have to offer is more than enough—even with your human frailties and weaknesses—if you rely on the grace of God.”10 I felt (and continue to feel) that promise fulfilled in my life, and I’ve found that my schedule is actually less stressful, not more so, when I seek to do all the Lord asks. I’ve found that the commandments and invitations of the Lord bring far more richness into my life than anything else can.

While I should not have been surprised by what began to happen as I acted with renewed faith and experienced the miracles that made it possible to do all that the Lord asks, I am still in awe at how Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ have helped me accomplish what had before seemed impossible in my schedule (see Luke 1:37). Not only did the Lord “prepare a way for [me] that [I] may accomplish the thing which he commandeth” me, but the increased joy and fulfillment that came into my life was more than I could have anticipated. And I began to realize that these efforts are really more about whom I am becoming than about just what I am doing.11 A large part of that becoming led me to see that my heart was drawing closer to Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ and helping me become more like Them.

One of our beloved hymns expresses the plea “Thru cloud and sunshine, Lord, abide with me!” I was once on a plane as it approached a large storm. Looking out the window, I could see a dense blanket of clouds below us. The rays of the setting sun reflected off the clouds, causing them to shine with intense brightness. Soon, the plane descended through the heavy clouds, and we were suddenly enveloped in a thick darkness that completely blinded us to the intense light we had witnessed just moments earlier.
Black clouds may also form in our lives, which can blind us to God’s light and even cause us to question if that light exists for us anymore. Some of those clouds are of depression, anxiety, and other forms of mental and emotional affliction. They can distort the way we perceive ourselves, others, and even God. They affect women and men of all ages in all corners of the world.
Likewise damaging is the desensitizing cloud of skepticism that can affect others who have not experienced these challenges. Like any part of the body, the brain is subject to illnesses, trauma, and chemical imbalances. When our minds are suffering, it is appropriate to seek help from God, from those around us, and from medical and mental health professionals.
“All human beings—male and female—are created in the image of God. Each is a beloved spirit son or daughter of heavenly parents, and … each has a divine nature and destiny.” Like our Heavenly Parents and our Savior, we have a physical body and experience emotions.
My dear sisters, it is normal to feel sad or worried once in a while. Sadness and anxiety are natural human emotions. However, if we are constantly sad and if our pain blocks our ability to feel the love of our Heavenly Father and His Son and the influence of the Holy Ghost, then we may be suffering from depression, anxiety, or another emotional condition.
My daughter once wrote: “There was a time … [when] I was extremely sad all of the time. I always thought that sadness was something to be ashamed of, and that it was a sign of weakness. So I kept my sadness to myself. … I felt completely worthless.”
A friend described it this way: “Since my early childhood, I have faced a constant battle with feelings of hopelessness, darkness, loneliness, and fear and the sense that I am broken or defective. I did everything to hide my pain and to never give the impression that I was anything but thriving and strong.”
My dear friends, it can happen to any of us—especially when, as believers in the plan of happiness, we place unnecessary burdens on ourselves by thinking we need to be perfect now. Such thoughts can be overwhelming. Achieving perfection is a process that will take place throughout our mortal life and beyond—and only through the grace of Jesus Christ.
In contrast, when we open up about our emotional challenges, admitting we are not perfect, we give others permission to share their struggles. Together we realize there is hope and we do not have to suffer alone.
As disciples of Jesus Christ, we have made a covenant with God that we “are willing to bear one another’s burdens” and “to mourn with those that mourn.” This may include becoming informed about emotional illnesses, finding resources that can help address these struggles, and ultimately bringing ourselves and others to Christ, who is the Master Healer. Even if we do not know how to relate to what others are going through, validating that their pain is real can be an important first step in finding understanding and healing.
In some cases, the cause of depression or anxiety can be identified, while other times it may be harder to discern. Our brains may suffer because of stress or staggering fatigue, which can sometimes be improved through adjustments in diet, sleep, and exercise. Other times, therapy or medication under the direction of trained professionals may also be needed.
Untreated mental or emotional illness can lead to increased isolation, misunderstandings, broken relationships, self-harm, and even suicide. I know this firsthand, as my own father died by suicide many years ago. His death was shocking and heartbreaking for my family and me. It has taken me years to work through my grief, and it was only recently that I learned talking about suicide in appropriate ways actually helps to prevent it rather than encourage it. I have now openly discussed my father’s death with my children and witnessed the healing that the Savior can give on both sides of the veil.
Sadly, many who suffer from severe depression distance themselves from their fellow Saints because they feel they do not fit some imaginary mold. We can help them know and feel that they do indeed belong with us. It is important to recognize that depression is not the result of weakness, nor is it usually the result of sin. It “thrives in secrecy but shrinks in empathy.” Together, we can break through the clouds of isolation and stigma so the burden of shame is lifted and miracles of healing can occur.
During His mortal ministry, Jesus Christ healed the sick and the afflicted, but each person had to exercise faith in Him and act to receive His healing. Some walked for long distances, others extended their hand to touch His garment, and others had to be carried to Him in order to be healed. When it comes to healing, don’t we all need Him desperately? “Are we not all beggars?”
Let us follow the Savior’s path and increase our compassion, diminish our tendency to judge, and stop being the inspectors of the spirituality of others. Listening with love is one of the greatest gifts we can offer, and we may be able to help carry or lift the heavy clouds that suffocate our loved ones and friends so that, through our love, they can once again feel the Holy Ghost and perceive the light that emanates from Jesus Christ.
If you are constantly surrounded by a “mist of darkness,” turn to Heavenly Father. Nothing that you have experienced can change the eternal truth that you are His child and that He loves you. Remember that Christ is your Savior and Redeemer, and God is your Father. They understand. Picture Them close by you, listening and offering support. “[They] will console you in your afflictions.” Do all you can, and trust in the Lord’s atoning grace.
Your struggles do not define you, but they can refine you. Because of a “thorn in the flesh,” you may have the ability to feel more compassion toward others. As guided by the Holy Ghost, share your story in order to “succor the weak, lift up the hands which hang down, and strengthen the feeble knees.”
For those of us currently struggling or supporting someone who is struggling, let us be willing to follow God’s commandments so we may always have His Spirit with us. Let us do the “small and simple things” that will give us spiritual strength. As President Russell M. Nelson said, “Nothing opens the heavens quite like the combination of increased purity, exact obedience, earnest seeking, daily feasting on the words of Christ in the Book of Mormon, and regular time committed to temple and family history work.”
Let us all remember that our Savior, Jesus Christ, “[has taken] upon him [our] infirmities, that his bowels may be filled with mercy, according to the flesh, that he may know … how to succor [us] according to [our] infirmities.” He came “to bind up the brokenhearted, … to comfort all that mourn; … to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness.”
I testify to you that “thru cloud and sunshine” the Lord will abide with us, our “afflictions [can be] swallowed up in the joy of Christ,” and “it is by grace that we are saved, after all we can do.” I testify that Jesus Christ will return to the earth “with healing in his wings.” Ultimately, He “shall wipe away all tears from [our] eyes; and there shall be no more … sorrow.” For all who will “come unto Christ, and be perfected in him,” the “sun shall no more go down; … for the Lord shall be [our] everlasting light, and the days of [our] mourning shall be ended.” In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

I met B. J. the Saturday we moved to Pinedale. I was walking down the snowy street with my ice skates when a kid with glasses slipped and slid into me. He was chasing a fuzzy little dog.
“Sorry,” he said, pulling me up and brushing the snow off my pants. “Mrs. James’s dog, Snuggles, escaped from her apartment, and I told her I’d catch him. I’m B. J. Are you new around here?”
“Yeah. We just moved into that blue house,” I answered, pointing across the street. “I’m Jack.”
“Hi.” B. J. grinned, and I felt my mouth curve into a smile. He was a funny-looking kid with hair that stuck out from under his hat like straw, but his friendliness made me feel good. I didn’t know anyone else in the neighborhood yet.
“Do you like to ice skate?” I asked. “I’m going over to the rink.”
“Help me catch Snuggles,” B. J. said, “and I’ll show you the best ice in town.”
“Sure!”
“Come on then.” B. J. was already running down the street. “Snuggles always heads over to the flower shop. He has a crush on the poodle that lives there.”
B. J. cut down alleys and zigzagged through town as if he were in a maze. “I’ve lived here all my life,” he told me. “I know the best shortcuts.”
A few minutes later, we found Snuggles curled up in a furry ball against the flower shop door. B. J. scooped him up and gave him a scratch behind the ears. “Sorry to interrupt your date,” he told Snuggles, “but Mrs. James is waiting for you.”
After we took the dog back and got B. J.’s skates, he led me to an awesome pond. The frozen surface looked as smooth as polished silver. Kids raced around it, their winter jackets blurs of bright colors.
“I usually skate here,” B. J. said as we sat down on a bench near a tiny building. “That’s the chalet for warming up. They sell snacks inside, too.”
After we laced our skates, B. J. introduced me to Mike, Leroy, and Jenna. He seemed to know the entire town. Before long, we were all playing tag, and I felt the sting of the icy cold air on my cheeks as I flew across the frozen pond.
B. J. had just tagged me when a little girl in a pink coat slipped and fell. She started to cry, and B. J. whipped over to help her up.
“Is this your sister?” I asked, skating up to them.
“No, it’s Emma,” he answered, holding her hand to steady her. “She hurt her knee. I’m going to take her inside and get her some hot chocolate.”
“Oh,” I said. “What about our game?”
“I’ll be back—go ahead and play.”
“Come on, Jack,” Mike hollered. “You’re it.” So I skated off to tag him. I figured Emma must be B. J.’s cousin or something like that. Why else would he take care of her?
Over the next few weeks, I got to know B. J. a lot better. He lived with his mother and sister in an apartment downtown. I could tell when I visited that they didn’t have much money. Nothing about the place was fancy, but B. J. didn’t mind and neither did I. His mom laughed all the time, and he was quickly becoming my best friend.
We both loved skating and collecting coins. We both built model airplanes, too. In fact, we got along great! But I couldn’t understand why B. J. did some of the crazy things he did—like letting Jenna play his trumpet solo in the Christmas program.
“Why did you let Jenna play the solo?” I asked him. “You were going to steal the show.”
“Jenna’s dad is coming to town just to see her,” he told me. “She’s really excited about it. He hasn’t been around much since her parents got divorced. It’s important to her.”
“But what about you?”
“I don’t mind.” He shrugged. “Let’s finish our homework and go sledding. I’ll show you the hill we call Double-Decker.”
When we went sledding, he loaned his sled to a couple of boys who didn’t have one and doubled up with me. I didn’t bother to ask him why. Afterward we went for a snack to a little restaurant he knew about. Before we left, he swept the floor for the owner. “He has arthritis,” B. J. whispered to me, “and sweeping hurts his hands.”
On the way home, we passed a theater, and a man in a long robe stumbled and fell down in front of us. I helped him up. He had long brown hair, and he was wearing sandals in the snow. He looked like the paintings of Jesus Christ I had seen in Primary.
“Are you all right?” I asked. I knew he was an actor, but he looked so much like I thought Jesus must look that I wanted to help him as much as I could.
“I’m not used to wearing sandals,” he said, thanking me. “I have to go now. They’re waiting for me inside.”
“Have a good day,” I said as I watched him hurry inside.
“Did you see that actor?” I asked B. J. “I felt like I was helping Jesus.” B. J. smiled.
“Now you know my secret,” he said. “I always try to treat people as if they were Jesus Christ. Then it’s easy to help them, and I feel happy, too.”
That night, I thought a long time about what B. J. had said. Then I decided to get up early in the morning and shovel the sidewalks for my dad. He might wonder why I’m being so helpful, but now that B. J.’s secret is my secret, the idea makes perfect sense to me.

We are also blessed by temple covenants and ordinances, where “the power of godliness is manifest.” I visited a woman who had lost a teenage daughter in a terrible accident, then later her husband to cancer. I asked how she could endure such loss and suffering. She replied that strength came from spiritual reassurances of an eternal family, received during regular temple worship. As promised, the ordinances of the Lord’s house had armed her with God’s power.

The youth of the Brea Second Ward, Fullerton California Stake, had an unusual opportunity. They helped a member of their ward celebrate her 99th birthday! Because Sister Polly Hall is unable to leave her nursing home to attend church, two priests from the ward visit her every Sunday to administer the sacrament.
Through their service, the priests have become friends with Sister Hall, and decided they would give her a birthday party.
Sister Hall was pleased to be the guest of honor at the party, which included games, dancing, music, and presents.
“I just love the youth of the Church,” says Sister Hall. “My testimony is strengthened each week when the boys come to visit me with the sacrament.”

Miriam Criscuolo from Italy found that, even after establishing a meaningful friendship with a neighbor, she still didn’t know how to talk about the gospel. “We spent a lot of time together, but the courage to speak to my new friend about the gospel, even though I knew it was my duty, escaped me,” she shares.

But when the gospel came up naturally, things started to happen. Miriam remembers, “It was my daughter who, when showing a Primary project, aroused the curiosity of my friend. ‘What’s Primary?’ she asked. From that question were born a hundred others. I learned that my friend had been looking for something for years. I told her that the peace of mind she was looking for would be found in our Church.

“She later joined the Church. She was an answer to my prayers about how to find a way to do missionary work and to show my children how it can be done.”

The youth of Calgary Alberta West Stake planned a big day devoted to service. The project included holding car washes in several locations and donating the money collected to the Alberta Children’s Hospital. But the weather had something to say in the matter. Their plans were not only rained out; they were snowed out.
Instead of washing dirty cars, the youth turned their brushes and buckets to the windows and baseboards of two chapels. After a thorough job, they turned the rest of the day into a fun time with food and volleyball.
The Super Saturday activity concluded with a banquet and special speaker. In the testimonies borne by several young people, they mentioned learning a vivid lesson about being flexible and dealing with life’s disappointments.

“When I was seven, I was like any other seven-year-old,” says Brennah Kahaunani Payne. “I went to school, went to church on Sunday, and lost teeth.” But then Brennah was in a terrible car accident. She had to stay in the hospital for six months and have nine surgeries.
Many people helped Brennah in the hospital—doctors, nurses, and even a schoolteacher. Brennah thinks her hospital stay was like a “little mission.” She gave pass-along cards to several people to tell them about the Church. And she tried to comfort other children whenever she could.

I have had the frightening experience of feeling lost more than once. When I was very little, I went to Salt Lake City, Utah, with my parents. I had never seen such a big city. My mother, who thought that I was with my dad, went into a store. My dad, thinking that I was with my mother, stayed outside to wait while she shopped. But I just kept walking down the street. Before I knew it, I was half a block away and didn’t see a single familiar face or place. I didn’t know what to do. I was petrified with fear. My parents quickly realized I was gone, however, and it took them only a few minutes to find me.

A few months ago our two youngest granddaughters visited us—one each week. I was at home and answered the door. My wife, Mary, was in another room. In both cases, after a hug, they said almost the same thing. They looked around and then said, “I love to be in Grandma’s house. Where is Grandma?” I didn’t say it to them, but I was thinking, “Isn’t this Grandpa’s house too?” But I realized that when I was a boy, our family went to Grandma’s house. The words of a familiar song came into my mind: “Over the river and through the woods to Grandmother’s house we go.” Now, let me say unequivocally that I am thrilled with the educational and other opportunities that are available to women. I treasure the fact that the backbreaking work and domestic drudgery required of women has been reduced in much of the world because of modern conveniences and that women are making such magnificent contributions in every field of endeavor. But if we allow our culture to reduce the special relationship that children have with mothers and grandmothers and others who nurture them, we will come to regret it.