Today would have been our 30th wedding anniversary.
February 17, 1996.
Marrying you, loving you, and raising a family with you has been the greatest blessing of my life. You noticed the overlooked, cheered for the struggling, and showed what Christlike love and service looked like in everyday life.
You were fierce in the truest sense of the word—fierce in faith, fierce in loyalty, fierce in love.
When cancer entered our story, you refused to let it write the ending. You chose faith over fear and hope over despair. The words of your personal mission statement still echo in my heart:
“I have faith in Him. I have hope through Him. I have fight in me.”
And you lived every word.
You fought—not just for yourself, but for our children, for me, and for so many others who found strength because you stood beside them. Even when you knew you might never ring the victory over cancer bell yourself, you celebrated every person who did. That was you—always lifting, always giving, always inspiring.
One of your favorite hymns I Will Follow God’s Plan reads, “My life is a gift; my life has a plan; My life has a purpose; in heav’n it began..” Tisa, your life was a gift—to our family, to your friends, and to everyone who felt your warmth and your laughter.
Though I miss you deeply, I am not without hope. I have faith in Jesus Christ, our Savior and Redeemer. I know Heavenly Father has a divine plan for you, for our family, and for me. Jesus Christ carried us through the hardest seasons of life, and He continues to carry me and our family.
Through His Atonement, and through the Restoration of the gospel and priesthood keys, I know that families are eternal—and that our temple covenants did not end with death.
I recently heard a quote from President Spencer W. Kimball that caused me to ponder. He taught that we must not only leave Babylon, but also “give up the summer cottage there.” Babylon is often easy to recognize when it is loud and obvious. A summer cottage, however, suggests something quieter—something we do not live in, but return to because it feels comfortable, familiar, or safe.
A cottage is not rebellion; it is retreat.
President Kimball’s counsel reminded me that prophetic warnings are rarely meant to shame. They are loving invitations to examine our hearts and gently realign our lives with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. Often, the greatest spiritual obstacles are not major transgressions, but small attachments that slowly compete for our attention.
This led me to think about the Book of Mormon distinction between the large plates and the small plates. The large plates recorded history, wars, and the outward affairs of a nation. The small plates were reserved for “the more part of the ministry”—testimony, doctrine, and the workings of God in individual hearts (1 Nephi 9:4).
Both were important, but only the small plates were focused entirely on Christ.
In many ways, Babylon and Zion present a similar contrast. Much of life requires attention to the “large plates”—daily family responsibilities, ambitions, work routines, and demands. But when those things begin to crowd out the “small plates” of our lives—quiet worship, prayer, scripture study, repentance, covenant keeping, and attentiveness to the Spirit—we may find ourselves spiritually malnourished.
President Russell M. Nelson posed several questions that feel especially relevant in this context:
Are you willing to let God prevail in your life? Will you allow His voice to take priority over any other? Are you willing to let your will be swallowed up in His?
These questions are not about perfection. They are about priority—about whether we are making space for God to prevail and for the Holy Ghost to be our constant companion.
Our modern “summer cottages” may look like small compromises, distractions, or habits we justify because they seem harmless. Nephi warned that some are not led away dramatically, but are instead “lulled… into carnal security” (2 Nephi 28:21). Like the large plates, these things may not be sinful in themselves, but they can quietly eclipse what matters most.
The Savior’s invitation is always toward exaltation. As we center our lives more deliberately on Him, love for others grows, service becomes more natural, and the Spirit becomes easier to recognize. Mormon taught, “Pray unto the Father with all the energy of heart, that ye may be filled with this love” (Moroni 7:48).
I testify that Jesus Christ is our Savior and Redeemer. He is the perfect example of a life wholly consecrated to Heavenly Father. As we choose Him more completely and let go of anything that pulls our hearts away, He blesses us with peace, direction, and the constant companionship of the Holy Ghost. In Him, Zion becomes not just our destination, but our way of life.
What small but familiar “summer cottage” might the Lord be inviting me to release so I can feel His Spirit more fully?
Today, I had the opportunity to attend Rudy’s baptism, and I left feeling deeply moved—not just by the ordinance itself, but by the quiet acts of faith that led him there.
Rudy’s journey began long before entering the waters of baptism. It began with a gentle thought.
His neighbor, Amina, felt a simple impression to invite him to a youth activity. There was nothing dramatic about it. No grand speech. Just a generous thought—and the courage to act on it. Sister Camilla E. Kimball once taught, “Never suppress a generous thought.” Watching Rudy enter the waters of baptism, I realized how powerful that counsel truly is. One small, loving invitation created space for Heavenly Father to work in the life of a beloved son.
Before Rudy was baptized, Amina was invited to speak about the gift of the Holy Ghost. As she spoke, it became clear that her words were not just doctrine—they were testimony shaped by experience. She described the Holy Ghost as God’s promise to walk with us, reminding Rudy—and all of us—that the Lord never intended for His children to face life alone.
She testified that the Spirit often speaks quietly, through peace, clarity, and gentle reassurance. Not in dramatic moments, but in the stillness of the heart. As she spoke, I couldn’t help but see the connection: the same quiet Spirit that comforts and guides is the Spirit that prompts us to love, to share, and to invite.
Amina followed that quiet prompting. She didn’t know where it would lead. She didn’t know how Rudy would respond. She simply trusted the feeling that came with light and peace—and acted. That choice opened the door for Rudy to learn, to believe, and ultimately to make sacred covenants with God.
What stood out most to me was the truth that the Holy Ghost doesn’t just guide those who are preparing for baptism—it guides those who are willing to help others come unto Christ. The Spirit is just as active in the life of the inviter as it is in the life of the one being invited.
Rudy’s baptism was a powerful reminder that God works through ordinary people who listen to quiet impressions. Love doesn’t have to be loud. Sharing doesn’t have to be complicated. Inviting doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be sincere.
As I watched Rudy enter the covenant path, I felt gratitude for a Heavenly Father who speaks softly, for a Savior who keeps His promise to never leave us comfortless, and for the truth that when we act on generous thoughts, heaven multiplies them.
Sometimes the most life-changing moments begin with something as simple as an invitation—and the willingness to listen to the Spirit when it whispers, “Ask them.”
As I was reading Psalm 18, I felt as though the Lord was gently recounting the story of my life back to me: “In my distress I called to the Lord… From his temple he heard my voice… He reached down from on high and took hold of me; He drew me out of deep waters… My God turns my darkness into light.”
For many years, my trial was not brief or dramatic, but constant. There were long seasons of uncertainty, fatigue, and quiet pleading. I learned that crying out to God did not always bring immediate relief or answers, but it always brought His presence. He did not remove the trial, but He anchored me, steadied me, and gave me light sufficient for each day.
The Book of Mormon teaches this pattern. Alma testified, “Whosoever shall put their trust in God shall be supported in their trials, and their troubles, and their afflictions.” (Alma 36:3) And in Mosiah we learn that the Lord did not immediately remove the burdens of His people, but “did strengthen them that they could bear up their burdens with ease.” (Mosiah 24:15) I have come to know that this strengthening power is real.
I have also come to know that one of the greatest ways the Lord provides that strength is through sacred covenants—especially temple covenants. When trials are long and heavy, covenants are not restrictions; they are anchors. They bind us to Jesus Christ and open our lives to His sustaining power. Even when I fell short, I felt the Savior reaching down, forgiving, and guiding me back toward light.
I love God and His Son, Jesus Christ. I know the Restoration of the gospel is real and that the Book of Mormon is another testament of Him. I know temple covenants matter—especially when deliverance comes slowly. I invite each of us to draw closer to the Savior by making and keeping sacred covenants and turning to Him in prayer, trusting that He will strengthen us to endure and, in His way and time, lift us—just as He has lifted me
At the beginning of December, I prayed for something very specific: the opportunity to give someone a Book of Mormon before Christmas. As I followed promptings to adjust my plans, I met someone who willingly accepted a copy. She even expressed a desire to read it and attend Christmas services. Although she didn’t read as promised or come to church, I have come to see that Heavenly Father still answered my prayer.
In Matthew 7:7-9 The Savior taught, “Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you.” Prayer invites us not only to ask, but to trust the Lord with the outcome.
Elder David A. Bednar reminds us in “Ask in Faith” that meaningful prayer involves both sincere asking and righteous action. I acted on the prompting. What happened next was not mine to control.
In Alma 32:28 we are taught Alma faith often begins as a seed. If we plant it, “it will begin to swell within your breasts.” Whether or not we see immediate growth, the ground was prepared, the seed has been planted—and God cultivates and nourishes it in His time.
Elder Richard G. Scott taught: “Ask, and ye shall receive … does not assure that you will get what you want. It does guarantee that, if worthy, you will get what you need, as judged by a Father that loves you perfectly.”
President Dallin H. Oaks has taught that real intent in prayer means being willing to do whatever the Lord asks—not seeking a specific result, but offering our will to His. This experience reminded me that specificity in prayer is not about controlling outcomes, but about consecrating our desires to God and trusting Him with the harvest.
I am grateful for all who prepared the soil, planted seeds of faith, and lovingly nurtured my testimony of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ.
His Hand is Stretched Out Still by Yongsung Kim
At Christmas, I think about the people who have carried me through both joy and loss. If you’re reading this, you’re one of them—and I want you to know how grateful I am for you. Thank you for being willing to be your brother’s keeper, as we are gently reminded in the hymn “Lord, I Would Follow Thee.”
My faith did not come quickly or easily. It was shaped by years of searching, questioning, and hoping for something true enough to hold onto. I never wanted borrowed belief—only something I could lean on when life felt heavy.
Many of you knew Tisa. Being her companion for 27 years changed me, and losing her did too. Grief has a way of staying, but so does love. In the quiet moments when sorrow felt overwhelming, my faith in Jesus Christ became a steady presence—gentle, sustaining, and reassuring me that I was not alone, even when the road felt dark and lonely.
Alongside the Bible, the Book of Mormon has become deeply personal to me—not because it answers every question, but because it continually points me to Christ. It reminds me that He sees sorrow others can’t, and that He meets us with compassion and understanding exactly where we are.
I’m not trying to convince anyone of anything. I simply wanted to share something that has mattered deeply to me. Christmas has taught me that light still comes, even after long nights, and that hope can quietly exist alongside sorrow.
In this season of remembrance and celebration, my prayer for you is simple and heartfelt: that peace may find you, joy may stay with you, and happiness may gently grow in your life.
Today my heart is full as I think about Sister Jennifer and the quiet, powerful gift she offers every week.
Sister Jennifer
Sister Jennifer opened her home—her garage—to become a sanctuary. Because of her willingness to consecrate her space, families can worship closer to their homes and avoid the burden of transportation costs. Many now walk to church, gathering as a humble, faithful group of Saints who come each week to sing hymns of praise and partake of the sacrament.
As we lifted our voices together, I felt the Spirit settle over us. It was as if heaven itself recognized the devotion of this small congregation and the sacrifice that makes it all possible.
Sister Jennifer’s backyard even became a place of covenant keeping. On Sunday, I witnessed a baptism take place in a simple font behind her home. In that quiet moment, I felt the unmistakable witness that the Lord sees every offering—no matter how small it may seem to the world.
Her home has become holy ground. Her service is shaping lives by bringing them unto Christ. And her example reminds me that the Lord works through willing hearts, open doors, and simple acts of love.
Grateful for Sister Jennifer. Grateful for this little branch of believers. Grateful for a God who meets His people wherever they gather in His name.
“For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.” — Matthew 18:20
As I reflect on the various seasons of my life and the quiet, sacred ways the Lord has carried me, my heart is filled with profound gratitude for my Savior, Jesus Christ. I give thanks for His birth, His perfect life, His teachings, His perfect love, His infinite Atonement, and His example of pure charity. He is the Light of the World, and He has been the light in my world—guiding me, comforting me, and lifting me through every season. His Atonement has shaped my heart and sustained me in moments when I could not stand on my own. He has been my steady foundation—the One constant in every season of change.
Peace Be Still by Simon Dewey
There have been times when the burdens I carried felt overwhelming. Yet the Savior has kept His promise found in Matthew 11:28: “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” I have felt that rest. I have felt His strength when my own strength was depleted. The prophet Isaiah testified, “He giveth power to the faint; and to them that have no might he increaseth strength” (Isaiah 40:29). And the words of the prophet Alma solidify that truth for me when he testified: “He will take upon him the pains and the sicknesses of his people… that he may know… how to succor his people” (Alma 7:11–12). I have felt that succor in deeply personal ways.
I am grateful for the guidance Heavenly Father gives me—quiet impressions, gentle warnings, and moments of clarity. Proverbs teaches, “In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths” (Proverbs 3:6). Again and again, He has directed mine. And I cherish the Savior’s own words recorded in the Book of Mormon after His Resurrection: “Behold, I am Jesus Christ the Son of God… I am the light and the life of the world” (3 Nephi 9:15). Those words remind me that He is not only aware of the world—He is aware of me.
I testify with all my heart that Jesus Christ lives. Because He conquered death, I know that forgiveness, hope, and eternal life are possible. As I strive to repent daily and follow His example of love, I feel His grace shaping me little by little. The prophet Ether teaches us this pattern of transformation: “If men come unto me I will show unto them their weakness… and make weak things become strong unto them” (Ether 12:27). I have seen that promise fulfilled in my own life. My weaknesses have become invitations to come closer to Him.
Each week, as I partake of the sacrament and remember His words, “This do in remembrance of me” (Luke 22:19), I feel renewed. The covenant to take His name upon me centers me and reminds me how much I depend on Him. I am grateful that through His grace I can begin again every single week.
I am also grateful for living prophets and apostles who guide the Church today. Their teachings bless my life, especially when I choose not only to hearer of their words but to act. I am particularly thankful for the revelation that made it possible for me to serve during this season of my life. The Lord’s words in Doctrine & Covenants 4:3 have become very personal: “Therefore, if ye have desires to serve God ye are called to the work.” I know the Lord saw my desire to serve but a host of others in similar circumstances and opened the way in His perfect timing.
A blessing that has brought me closer to the Savior has been our mission leaders’ invitation to set aside 30 minutes each Saturday at 8:30 p.m.—a sacred time away from the world to pray, ponder, repent, and ask the Lord the questions of my heart. This weekly appointment with heaven has become a source of peace, revelation, and deepened connection with the Savior.
Through all of this, my testimony has grown in quiet and personal ways. I know that Heavenly Father knows me. I know Jesus Christ is my Redeemer, my Advocate, my Friend, and the One who never gives up on me. I know His grace is sufficient. And I know that because of Him, I can look forward with hope to the blessings of eternal life.
This is my witness—a witness shaped by experiences, answered prayers, tender mercies, and countless moments when Christ met me exactly where I was and lifted me higher.
I recently heard a talk on tithing that caused me to reflect on the many times I have seen the Lord’s promised blessings in my own life. Tithing has never been just about finances—it has been a spiritual anchor, a source of strength, and a pathway to experiencing God’s promises firsthand.
There’s a simple truth that sums it up perfectly for me: 90% with Heavenly Father goes a lot further than 100% on my own. He does not need our money but desires our hearts. I have lived long enough, and experienced enough, to say that with complete confidence.
Early in our marriage, Tisa and I made a quiet but sacred commitment: We would always pay a full tithe. No matter the circumstance. No matter what pressures we felt. We decided together to put the Lord first, and we kept that pattern for decades.
Through those years, tithing taught us that it’s not about money—it’s about obedience, faith, gratitude, and trusting Heavenly Father with every part of life.
The Promise in Malachi
Of all the commandments, tithing is one where Heavenly Father gives a direct invitation to test Him. Malachi 3:10 contains one of the most beautiful promises in scripture:
“Bring ye all the tithes into the storehouse, that there may be meat in mine house, and prove me now herewith, saith the Lord of hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive it.”
Years after we made that commitment, Tisa was diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer. By the time it was discovered, the cancer had already spread to her vertebrae, both femurs, her pelvis, liver, and kidney. On October 2, 2012, her oncologist told us she had less than a 5% chance of surviving another five years.
But Heavenly Father blessed her life—and mine—with eleven more years together. Those years were filled with love, spiritual growth, laughter, and countless tender mercies. There were many miracles we could never have created on our own.
I know those blessings came from the windows of heaven being opened to us—not as a transaction, but as a result of a lifetime of trusting Heavenly Father through the payment of tithing.
What Tithing Really Teaches
Tithing changes our hearts. It teaches us humility, trust, and spiritual dependence. It reminds us that everything we have already comes from Him.
And every time I have put Heavenly Father first—especially through tithing—He has taken care of me in ways far greater than I could have done on my own. That is why I can say with certainty: 90% with Heavenly Father truly does go further than 100% on my own.
A Step of Faith With Eternal Blessings
If you’re thinking about taking that leap of faith—even if it feels uncertain—I can promise that Heavenly Father will meet you where your faith begins. He will open the windows of heaven in ways unique to your life and your needs.
He keeps His promises….I have seen it…I have lived it…And I know He will do the same for anyone who trusts Him.
As I have serve in the South Africa Pretoria Mission, I have the privilege of witnessing the remarkable work of our missionaries each day. Their faith, dedication, and quiet acts of service continually inspire me. They go forth with courage to share the message of Jesus Christ—to plant seeds of truth, love, and hope in the hearts of God’s children across this beautiful land.
There’s a simple but profound truth in this saying: “You can count the seeds in an apple, but you can’t count the apples in a seed.” It reminds me of the work of our missionaries—faithful young men who go forth daily to plant seeds of the gospel in the hearts of God’s children.
Each conversation, each act of service, and each testimony they share may seem small at first—just a seed. Yet as these spiritual seeds take root, they grow into something far greater than any of us can measure. They bless generations. They bring light to families. They change eternal destinies.
I feel privileged to support these missionaries in their sacred calling to share the good news of the restored gospel—to encourage them, to help meet their temporal needs, and to witness firsthand how the Lord magnifies their efforts. I have seen how the Spirit works quietly but powerfully in the lives of those who are willing to listen and open their hearts to the Savior’s message.
The Apostle Paul taught: “I have planted, Apollos watered; but God gave the increase.” 1 Corinthians 3:6
Missionary work is truly a divine partnership. We may plant or water, but only Heavenly Father can cause faith to grow and bear fruit. The Book of Mormon teaches this same principle of spiritual growth and eternal potential:
“Now, if ye give place, that a seed may be planted in your heart, behold, if it be a true seed… it will begin to swell within your breasts; and when you feel these swelling motions, ye will begin to say within yourselves—It must needs be that this is a good seed.” Alma 32:28
Faith, like a seed, begins small. But when nourished by the word of God, it can grow into a tree that bears everlasting fruit—the fruit of joy, peace, and salvation through Jesus Christ.
One of the greatest joys of this work is knowing that the blessings of the gospel extend beyond this life. Families are meant to last forever. The sealing power of the priesthood binds hearts across generations and brings hope that no separation is permanent.
The Lord promised: “And that same sociality which exists among us here will exist among us there, only it will be coupled with eternal glory.” Doctrine and Covenants 130:2
I testify that families are eternal, that Jesus Christ lives, and that His restored gospel gives us the power and peace to face every challenge with faith.
I am deeply grateful for the missionaries who daily plant these eternal seeds—and for the countless unseen harvests their work will one day bring forth. For me, it took nearly fifteen years of loving and faithful individuals who continued to cultivate the dormant seed of faith planted in my youth before it began to sprout. Their consistent examples, their love, and their willingness to share their testimonies helped my faith come alive again. I will forever be grateful for those who never stopped nurturing that small seed.
Let us each find ways to plant and nourish seeds of faith—in our homes, in our communities, and in the hearts of those we love.
I know that Jesus Christ lives. He is the source of every good thing in our lives. As we share His gospel and strengthen one another in faith, we become His hands in helping others find the joy, peace, and eternal hope that only He can give.
He Spoke I Went 