INTRODUCTION: My mother was mostly blind during the final years of her life. A passionate reader, a woman who loved to sew and mend and cook and clean, her infirmity made the favored activities of her life nearly impossible. She did learn to crochet by touch, and made over one hundred Afghans for her grand- and great-grandchildren in those final years, but they were years lived in temporal darkness. But through it all she glowed! There was a source of light in her, a shining certainty, that enabled her to see more clearly than any of those whose love and compassion brought them to her side to read to her and to visit with her and to reminisce with her. The real light of the world, rather than being dimmed by her handicap, increased its brightness and radiance as the weeks and months passed by, until it seemed there was no darkness in her at all. More than any person I have ever known, she knew what Jesus meant when he said, “I am the light of the world.”

INTRODUCTION: If you could fashion a community according to your own desires—one that would conform to your specifications to help you, your family, and your neighbors in the accomplishment of temporal and eternal goals, what sort of society would you create? What would you do about class distinction? About poverty? How would you prevent racial prejudice? How would you avoid criminal activity? Such a society was what the Prophet Joseph meant to establish—a society where men could live in love and peace and plenty and enjoy without restraint the bounteous goodness of God.

Author's Note: I am always interested in feedback and grateful for suggestions about improving these lessons. If you have suggestions or comments, my email is tedgibbons@yahoo.com. Thanks. TLG

From the time Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf first took the pulpit at general conference, members around the world have loved his stories about airplanes and the poignant gospel lessons he draws from them. In fact, his history of sharing tales of flight has led many listeners to find themselves internally asking a question as soon as he gets up to speak—the same question Elder Uchtdorf voiced one memorable conference: “What does it have to do with flying an airplane?” Here is a collection of just a few of those aerodynamic analogies.

In 1981, a Gallup poll reported, “Nearly one-third of all Americans—or about 47 million people—have had what they call a religious or mystical experience. Of this group, about 15 million report an otherworldly feeling of union with a divine being. They describe such things as special communications from deceased people or divine beings, visions of unusual lights, and out-of-body experiences.”1

While the Lord’s power to miraculously heal physical infirmities is experienced by thousands, sometimes we or our loved ones are not physically healed. We have faith, we pray with real intent, we humble ourselves, we seek priesthood blessings, we place names on temple rolls, but the malady remains. We wonder: “Why didn’t the healing blessing work? Did I not have enough faith? Does God not love me as he loves others he has healed? Have I done something wrong?” I have asked myself similar questions in some of the unhealed physical problems I have personally experienced or seen loved ones endure. Why does he sometimes not heal?

“I cried tears of joy that I had found the Lord’s Church on earth!”

See a list of all the temples President Nelson has announced since 2018 and find out how far along they are in the construction process.

Our diversity is one of our greatest strengths and one of the sources of our unity as Latter-day Saints.

“I knew in whom I had trusted, and with the fire of Israel’s God burning in my bosom, I forsook my home.” So wrote Jane C. Robinson Hindley, who was one of about 90,000 European converts who gathered to an American Zion in the mid-19th century.