You talk with people every day who say that God does not exist or is far, far away. A woman sat next to me on a plane. I spoke to her. She strained to understand me. When she spoke, her accent almost overpowered her English. In answer to my question, she told me that she was returning to the place of her birth. She said that the occasion which drew her was a religious observance of the death of her father, who died many years ago. She had made the flight on the third, the seventh, the thirteenth, and the seventeenth anniversaries of his death. And now she was going again. I told her that I admired her devotion to her father. She said, quietly, that she believed in the veneration of her ancestors. I asked her if her family had attended church. She smiled and said, "No, only go to church when someone dies." I asked her if she believed in a god. She said, "Yes." I asked her if she thought he was close by. She said, "No. If we should need him we would say, 'come here,"' and she made a beckoning sign with her hand. I asked her who she believed God was. Her soft, tentative answer was: "Well, he is like one of our distant ancestors." God is our ancestor, not distant but close. He is the Father of our spirits; we are his children. But like that woman, we all at times feel far removed from him. Like her, if we are to have the words of the gospel of Jesus Christ touch us, then we must believe in God. We must want to be with him. And we must sense our need to be purified to be with him again. The day will come when we will see him again. President Benson described it this way: "Nothing is going to startle us more when we pass through the veil to the other side than to realize how well we know our Father and familiar his face is to us."