Gospel Story Finder

Four years ago, my institute teacher, Brother Suresh Natrajan, asked the class, “How many of you have gone to the temple?” Because my wife, Anantha, and I had made the 10-hour trip to the Hong Kong China Temple for the first time the year before, I raised my hand proudly. Then he asked another question: “Do you remember what covenants you made in the temple?”
His question was thoughtful. There was so much to take in during my first time in the temple. While I had tried to be attentive, after all that time, I realized I had forgotten the covenants that I made in the temple. At that very moment, I made the decision to go back to temple for the second time and this time to pay attention to and remember the covenants I made and other things that are essential for my salvation.
Time passed. I was facing terrible trials in my life. But I was enrolled in an institute class, and one day we had a lesson on the prophet Jonah. Jonah didn’t do what the Lord commanded him to do. One of the verses that caught my attention was Jonah 2:4: “Then I said, I am cast out of thy sight; yet I will look again toward thy holy temple.”
This scripture touched my heart, and I prayed to Heavenly Father to give me and my wife another chance to visit the temple.
After four years, Heavenly Father blessed us to again enter His house, this time in the Taipei Taiwan Temple.
Mahesh and Anantha Vedurupaka in front of the Taipei Taiwan Temple.
While there, I had the opportunity to perform ordinances on behalf of my uncle who had died of cancer. When I was being baptized for him, I thought about the blessings he would receive through this temple ordinance. I was so happy, and I recognized what the temple president told me when I had come to the temple for the first time and had been a little bit confused. He told me, “Brother, you may not understand all of what you are doing right now, but a day will come when you will feel you have done great things here.”
I got my answer. It has taken me four years to understand by visiting the temple for the second time.
Now while partaking of the sacrament each and every week, I remember how powerful the Atonement of Jesus Christ is and how sacred the covenants I have made in the temple are.
This year is mine and my wife’s 10th wedding anniversary. I want to celebrate it in the temple and perform sealing ordinances for my ancestors. To do this, I have been working a second job apart from my regular job, one that doesn’t affect my time with my family.
I know and I feel that temple work is real. Nothing can replace it, and it’s worth any sacrifice to attend the temple and do Heavenly Father’s work for ourselves and for souls who are on the other side of the veil.

I really liked the new video game I played at my nonmember friend’s house. It became my favorite, but I could never play long enough to get very far into it. I decided to work and earn enough money to buy my own copy. It cost a lot of money, but I did a lot of extra jobs and even sold lemonade and cookies at a garage sale.
When I had enough money, I first paid my tithing and then asked my dad to take me to the store to buy the game. It had a good rating, and I told my dad that I hadn’t seen anything bad in it.
I loved playing the game, but when I got into the higher levels, some bad words and violence started to appear. They made me feel bad inside. If I had known they were there, I would not have purchased the game. I told my parents, and we decided that I should not play it anymore, even though I had worked so hard to earn the money for it. It was the right choice.
When my friend and his mom asked why I didn’t play the game anymore at their house, I told them why it made me uncomfortable. My friend’s mom said she didn’t know the game was like that and she didn’t want my friend to play it, either. It felt good to make the right decision and to be an example for others.
Richard S. Osborn, age 9Omaha, Nebraska

Time passed. Brother Andelin passed away. Then on a cold December morning, our priests quorum arrived at a little house on the edge of the ward boundaries. The name on the mailbox read Andelin. At the door, leaning against a cane was a small woman with thinning white hair and a warm smile.
Our adviser introduced us to Sister Andelin as we brought in the small Christmas tree we were giving her. She made sure to learn our names as she talked to us. Sister Andelin hadn’t been able to come to church for several years, and though she didn’t recognize most of us, she knew our families.
“How’s your mother?” she asked me.
I gave the usual response. “Fine.”
“My husband used to be your home teacher when you first joined the Church. Do you remember that?”
After telling her I did, I reminded her about the board and the seesaw. She held her hands together and smiled at me as if picturing the entire thing in her mind. “You know, he was always doing good things like that for people. And now look at you,” she said, taking hold of my hand. “Passing on the good that you were taught. That’s how I get along now; all the love my husband spread around this ward just keeps flowing back to me.”
I realized that Brother Andelin took care of the widows and the fatherless as the Lord directed. But more than that, Brother Andelin passed on a spirit of giving that outlasted both him and that old teeter-totter.

They arrived a few minutes late. Scott’s suit was soaked. Sister Snowden saw them come in and hurried over to Scott. She wouldn’t let him stay in wet clothes. She talked to the custodian, who found an extra pair of coveralls for Scott to wear while his suit dried. Scott sat in the back of the chapel and listened to the conference.

President Snowden interviewed Scott while he was still in the borrowed coveralls.

“How’s my goal setter?”

“President, I’ve changed some of my goals. I’ve replaced some of them for one goal—to try to become more like the Savior.”

“That’s a lifelong goal,” President Snowden said.

Scott agreed. “President, I’ve found out that it’s true what you said. It’s not where we serve; it’s how we serve.”

A few minutes later, President Snowden asked, “How would you feel about serving as a zone leader for the remainder of your mission?”

“I don’t need it anymore. I’m content where I am, in our little branch.”

“It is the will of the Lord that you labor as a zone leader.”

“I’ll serve wherever he wants me.”

Most of the youth in Abby’s ward in Oklahoma have known her since Primary, and one of her fellow Laurels in the ward, Shelby, is especially close to her because she has been working with Abby in her special education class at school. You see, Abby is autistic, and she has been changing the lives of the youth in her ward for the better in a big way.
The young women of the ward had a great time as they banded together to help Abby earn her Young Womanhood Recognition. And the spirit of helping became contagious as many of the young men joined with the young women to help with Abby’s Special Olympics basketball team. From practicing to cheering the team on, the experience was a blessing and a missionary experience for the youth of the ward. Several nonmember parents of these special-needs youth expressed their appreciation and admiration for the help given to the basketball team.
Abby’s friend Shelby says, “By helping Abby and her team, I learned more about myself than anything. Abby’s teammates are all very unselfish and kind to one another, and that makes me want to be more like them.”
“I have grown up with Abby, and she is so sweet,” adds Jourdon, a priest in the ward. “She is always happy and brings a smile to my face every time I see her. As I was working with Abby and her team, I learned that while we are all different, in Heavenly Father’s eyes we are the same. We’re all His children.”

I’m glad this question was directed to me, because it’s a problem I have struggled with several times in years past. I thought for years that being called as president of the Relief Society was the greatest achievement for an LDS woman. If that did not happen then being called as president of the Primary or of the Young Women would be almost as satisfying.

Instead, I found myself serving as everything else. Several times I was a counselor in Relief Society, but never president.

I found reasons: “I wasn’t called because I have too many young children.” Then the next president would have four children not yet old enough to go to school. “I wasn’t called because I’m too young.” The next president would be younger. “I wasn’t called because I’ve only been in the ward five years.” The next president would be someone who had just moved into the ward.

Finally, there was to be another change, and everything seemed to indicate that I would be released as Junior Sunday School coordinator and called to lead Relief Society. I was sure my time had come. The bishop made an appointment with me “to talk about how things are going in Junior Sunday School,” but I knew he just wanted me to be surprised when he called me to a Relief Society position. I was ready with a list of things I thought would be new ideas; I had even decided who I would request for counselors.

Then came the meeting with the bishop. And do you know what we talked about? The Junior Sunday School!

I was really disappointed. I complained to my husband that the bishop must not think I was capable. When he gently replied that callings are from the Lord, I started to cry: “It doesn’t make me feel any better that the Lord doesn’t think I’m capable, either.”

Yes I really suffered at the time, but something happened to me, and I have never felt those feelings again. Like you, I was shocked and ashamed of my negative feelings; I really desired to change my attitude. And I finally did what I should have done before: instead of finding “reasons” for why someone else was chosen, or suppressing my disappointment, I went before the Lord, confessed my feelings—all of my feelings—and searched more deeply than before for the Lord’s reasons. When I was ready to learn, he was ready to teach me. Over the next few weeks, a process began that is still continuing. Gradually my understanding was opened, and the true nature of callings in the Lord’s kingdom was impressed on my heart. I’ve come to know the following things:
A calling is an opportunity to serve, not a reward. We sometimes carry over from the business world the idea that unless we are able to “work our way up” and become president of an organization our abilities have not been properly recognized. We have to be aware that the Lord is not giving us rewards by calling us, but is asking for wholehearted service. A calling may prove to be a blessing to us, it is true, but that depends upon our efforts after the call.
The true hierarchy of the Church is a hierarchy of righteousness. The Lord judges our hearts and actions, not the “level” of our callings. We have celestial visiting teachers in many wards, and celestial choristers and teachers. It’s character that pleases the Lord, not calling.
We cannot anticipate (or predict) the actions of our Heavenly Father. “My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith Lord.” (Isa. 55:8.) Sometimes when we look back after a few years we can see the purposes of the Lord unfolding in our lives. It may be as hard for us to see this as it sometimes is for our own children to understand the direction we give to their lives. We marvel that the Creator has worked things out with such delicate balance in nature. Why not trust him, then, and strive for understanding? Why not truly say with Mary, “Be it unto me according to thy word.” (Luke 1:38.)
We can fulfill our own callings better. President Duane Lloyd, a counselor in the Philadelphia Pennsylvania Stake Presidency, comments, “No one is doing his own calling as well as he could be doing.” He recommends redoubling our efforts in our present callings as an antidote to desiring the callings of others. It means to change your attitude so that you feel your calling is the best one in the Church. It is really effective.
We need to be humble. Jesus told several parables and gave much counsel on the importance of being humble. He knew that we (and those around us) will be happier when we are not lifted up in our pride, happier when we are not coveting another’s opportunities. One of Lehi’s sons, Jacob, appropriately summarized all these thoughts when he said, “Wherefore, brethren, seek not to counsel the Lord, but to take counsel from his hand. For behold, ye yourselves know that he counseleth in wisdom, and in justice, and in great mercy, over all his works.” (Jacob 4:10.)
My earnest hope in sharing these experiences and thoughts with you is that your heart may be softened to the ways of the Lord, and that you can come to know that your Father loves you and cares for you. Who knows but that your service, wherever it may be, might be an example to someone who, unknown to you, models his attitudes on yours.

Kim Frantz and her parents, of Hayden, Idaho, did “missionary work” of a different sort on their last “vacation.” They helped at Mother Teresa’s adoption center in Calcutta, India, feeding, diapering, and playing with the children there. They also helped LDS missionaries teach English lessons to street children.
“It’s sort of a break for those kids to come learn English,” says Kim. “After they’re done, they go back out to the streets again.”
The highlight of the trip, Kim says, was meeting Mother Teresa herself.
“She’s such a small little lady, and she’s working to make simple changes for the people. I won’t ever forget her,” says Kim.

He sorrowed over his loss of a newborn child and was given permission to care for a neighbor’s child during the day, then return the baby to her mother at night. An older sister of the baby, Margarette McIntire, later reported:

“One evening he did not come [home] with [the child] at the usual time, and mother went down to the Mansion to see what was the matter, and there sat the Prophet with the baby wrapped up in a little silk quilt. He was trotting it on his knee, and singing to it to get it quiet before starting out.” (Ensign, Jan. 1971, pp. 36–37.)

A Scout council was accustomed to arranging its summer camp schedule so that the Scouts were moving to the camp on one Sabbath and returning home from camp on the next Sabbath. Latter-day Saint youth were being deprived of religious activities for two successive Sundays. A friendly suggestion to the council authorities brought about a change, so that the camp period ran from Friday to Friday. The Sunday in between was planned so that there were religious services offered for the boys who were in the camp.

When I was 12 years old, my father took me along to look for a new car. Nothing is more exciting for a boy than to shop for a new car with his father. Our car was old and well worn. On the outdoor lot of a car dealer was a brand-new 1953 Plymouth. It was just the ticket, my father thought. A four-door sedan at a reasonable price. After some rather intense negotiating, my father said, “Would you take $1,600 cash?” I was stunned. I didn’t think anyone in the world had that much money, let alone my father! The offer was accepted, and that car served us well until I returned from my mission over nine years later. When I turned 16, I learned to drive in that car.

A few years ago, my father reminisced about that car over lunch.

“That old Plymouth was a great car,” he said.

I reminded him that one of my friend’s fathers bought two cars in 1957, just four years after we had acquired the ’53 Plymouth—one was a Plymouth Fury, the other a Studebaker Golden Hawk. You’re too young to remember those speedsters. Both had big V-8 engines and were built to be fast! My friends and I took measure of a car in those days by just how fast it would go over Parley’s Summit, a long climb to a high point on the four-lane highway east of Salt Lake City.

“Both of my friend’s cars could do 100 miles an hour over that summit,” I said, making sure my father understood that my friend had reported that to me and that I was not present to witness it.

Curiosity finally got the best of him. “What about the old Plymouth?” he said.

“Thirty-seven,” I reported, “in second gear.”

“Still, it was a wonderful car,” he said.

“It was a flathead six,” I complained. “It had no radio, no air-conditioning, no power windows, no power brakes, no power steering, no power seats, no power.”

“It never broke,” he said.

“It couldn’t,” I said. “It had no moving parts!”

“You didn’t suffer a bit,” he said. “And it was paid for.”

He had me. I hadn’t suffered, and I knew it was paid for because I had been there when he bought it and had watched him write out the check for $1,684, including taxes and license.

A few months ago I had an opportunity to take a morning walk on a mountain trail with four of my grandchildren. We each brought a bag so we could collect treasures from nature. As we looked for pieces to put in our collections, we found many different colors, designs, and textures in the leaves and rocks. It was hard to choose. I soon noticed that the children’s bags were filling up. Each leaf the children selected was unique, but because it was late fall, most of the leaves had dark weathered spots, irregular shapes, or faded and discolored parts. Because of this, I was reluctant to add things to my bag. I was looking for a leaf that showed the brightest colors and had no flaws. If it wasn’t perfect, I wasn’t going to treasure it. But this meant that my bag had very little in it.

Later, as I thought about this experience, I realized that I had cheated myself of much delight and happiness that could have been mine. I didn’t appreciate the uniqueness of the objects because I was looking for what I had deemed perfection. My grandchildren had been wiser than I had been. They had savored the odd shapes and spots on the leaves. They giggled at and enjoyed the brittle crispness of the dying leaves, and they delighted in the soft, faded colors. They filled their bags with happy treasures to take home. We can fail to see and enjoy the unique happiness and beauty in each day if we are so focused on our desire for what we want instead of what the Lord has designed for us.

From the beginning of my conversion, I learned how to choose the will of the Lord through trials and challenges. I joined the Church with my family when I was 16 years old. Three months after my conversion, my bishop, Cha Bong Kim, asked me if I could speak at stake conference. I was honored to be assigned to share my testimony in a stake conference. I said “yes” immediately, although I was a little nervous. However, it was a big challenge for me to accept that invitation after I heard what the topic of my talk was to be: How to Prepare for My Mission.

Sister Choi:
From the age of a young boy, Elder Choi dreamed of becoming a general in the Army and prepared in many ways, including physical strength and academic courses, to be able to pass the entrance exam for the military academy. After he joined the Church, he learned that missionary work was a duty for all young men; but it was not the first priority for a recent convert. He would have had to abandon his lifetime dream in order to serve a mission because, in Korea, to be excused from the military academy for any reason was not possible. He told the bishop that he could not speak on that topic at the stake conference because he could not give up his dream. Although Bishop Kim knew what his plan was, he asked him to pray about it for a week and then talk to him again. During the next week this young Elder Choi prayed and listened for an answer, asking Heavenly Father if he should prepare for a mission, striving to gain a testimony regarding the matter so he would be able to speak at the stake conference. He prayed and prayed and prayed every night and every day. In spite of praying for a whole week, he could not change his mind because he could not imagine his future in any way except as a military career. His worldly desire was stronger than his focus on the will of the Lord. He went back to the bishop and said he could not speak at the stake conference unless the topic assigned to him was changed. The bishop kindly told him that he would ask another young man to speak instead. However, Elder Choi was very uncomfortable with this decision because, for the first time, he did not obey his bishop. This unwillingness to accept an assignment was very hard for him. After that time, whenever he thought about a fulltime mission, he felt that his mind was confused and his life was complicated. The situation continued to bother him to the extent that it adversely affected his life, not only as a member of the Church, but in his school work, as well. He was neither happy nor content. He was reminded again and again that a fulltime mission was the duty of all young men. About three months later, as he became more humble, he sought the will of the Lord and the ability to change his mind regarding his chosen career. Finally, he committed to serve the Lord for two years and promised himself that his rejection of the bishop’s invitation to speak in stake conference would be the last time for the rest of his life that he would decline to accept a church assignment.

Elder Choi:
When I was 19 years old I was called to serve in the Korea Busan Mission. It was a glorious time. Unfortunately, my mission was interrupted by the call to serve my country. Military service is mandatory for all Korean young men and we are required to join the army once we have been called by our country to do so. Therefore, I needed to be released from my mission after one year and serve my country for three years. After I finished this three-year assignment in the military, I wanted to serve a mission again, although I was honorably released from my mission. However, many people, including my parents, told me that I didn’t have to serve a mission again because I was honorably released in order to serve my country for three years. They said that was enough. That sounded okay to me and I started thinking about my future as I continued to seek the will of the Lord. Later, when I had a chance to visit with Sister Choi, who was a member of my ward and a good friend of mine, I asked her opinion about my going on a second mission. Surprisingly, her answer was not the same as others. She was the only one who thought differently about another mission and about me. She said,

Sister Choi:
“I know who Brother Choi is. He is the one who will serve another mission.”

Elder Choi:
What a great compliment and confirmation for me! She had high expectations for me and this helped me have the desire to elevate my thoughts more completely to find the will of the Lord. I recognized my loyalty was to the Lord and was so happy to get her support for a second mission. I turned in my missionary papers again and was called to serve in the Korea Seoul Mission for one year, a mission location different from my first mission. I learned that to find and do the will of the Lord is simple when we humble ourselves sufficiently to elevate our thoughts and read His mind.

Another wonderful experience occurred when an outstanding brother, a high official in the United States Army in charge of all public relations for all of Europe and a member of our mission, was called upon to preside over one of the branches of the Church. In all humility he replied that he felt incapable of assuming such a great responsibility because he did not have the understanding he needed of the scriptures, and he was afraid that people would approach him for help and he would not be able to respond. He felt this to be a real obstacle in fulfilling his calling.
Upon reviewing this situation, his feeling of inadequacy, and the feeling we had that he had been called of our Heavenly Father, we recommended that he make a comprehensive study of the scriptures—commencing with the Doctrine and Covenants, because that is the framework for organization in the Church—for fifteen to twenty minutes a day. This good brother, a former all-conference football champion from Utah State, committed himself wholeheartedly. He began to gain more light and understanding, and very soon he found himself being led to the understanding he needed to direct the branch and the work effectively. Study became a very real thing to him, for now he was studying with an intent to know, and was not just reading the passages. Each night prior to retiring, no matter what the hour—ofttimes with his wife—he would follow his program and then contemplate seriously the thoughts he had studied before going to bed.
An interesting thing occurred one night when he came home very late from an important meeting. Because of the lateness of the hour he went directly to bed; then, as he recalled the story, he tossed and turned for nearly an hour before he realized he had not studied the scriptures. So he got out of bed, read for a few minutes, and then fell fast asleep. It was interesting to note that within a matter of a few short weeks a new confidence and reassurance came into his life, giving him more light and knowledge, more power and authority, and a greater possibility to lead his members—all for just taking a few minutes a day in study of the words of God.

In addition to my wonderful mother, I’ve had many mentors in my life. I first became acquainted with the process of mentoring when I was just nine years old. My Primary teacher taught me to cross-stitch “I Will Bring the Light of the Gospel into My Home,” a picture that hung in my room during my teenage years. My teacher guided me, corrected me, and always encouraged me along the way. Other mentors followed. Two excellent seamstresses in my ward taught me sewing. With their guidance, patience, and encouragement, I entered a dress in a sewing contest when I was 14, and I actually won a prize! The process increased my thirst for knowledge and excellence in other areas as well.

I was raised a deeply devout Roman Catholic, going to church every day. Studying the Bible was a normal every day event which I loved. My testimony of Jesus Christ was well established. He was my cornerstone, my iron rod. I had never visited any other church and was unfamiliar with The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. I often prayed that I could be a good Christian example to my children.
During one of my prayer sessions, I experienced a very personal and sacred spiritual encounter. I shared this encounter with a local parish priest and was told these things don’t happen today, so I kept this to myself for many years. But it became foundational to my testimony.
When I moved to Utah, I became involved in the local Catholic community. I didn’t drive back then, so my husband would take me and the children. One Sunday we were running late for church and took a different route. On this route, we passed a building with a sign which read: “The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.” Immediately, a presence came over me. Even though we were going about fifty miles, it felt like time had stood still. After mass, I mentioned to the parish priest that I saw a sign that said “The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints”. I expressed an appreciation for the name and asked, since we are the true church, why aren’t Catholics called this? He admonished me not to have anything to do with Mormons. This was the first time I had heard this word but the seed had been planted.
Some time later, there was a knock on my door. I assumed they were Jehovah Witnesses so I told them I wasn’t interested and they started to walk away. For some reason I called them back and asked them who they were. They mentioned they were members of “The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.” This captured my attention, and I invited them in. They left me a Book of Mormon which began a friendship with two ladies who were members of the local Relief Society.
A few months later, my husband was asked to work on Sundays so I had no way of getting to my local church. Around the same time, my children began to interact with other children in the neighbourhood, which led to me being invited to activities at their local church. On my first visit to my neighbour‘s church, they were showing a film of Joseph Smith‘s first vision. It was new to me, but when it came to the part he was bound, from my own experience years before, I knew this to be true.
As mentioned I wanted my children to know of Jesus as I knew of him, so I started to attend the Sunday services. I grew up in a Latin based church service where prayers and hymns were all in Latin, so this was the first time I had ever entered another church and heard hymns in English. I remember the first hymn I heard was “O my Father Thou That Dwellest.” It filled me with awe and is now my favourite hymn.
Thereafter, I was invited to the Relief Society and then my baptism came around. I think the whole stake came out to see this young Scottish girl being baptised in Utah. I have since held many positions in the church, such as Relief Society President, Primary President, Stake Primary President, and Sunday school teacher. Currently, I am in charge of Public Relations and Communications for the Greenock Branch.

Several years ago, I had the opportunity of traveling with the President of the Church to attend a series of area conferences. I will never forget the contrast between two conferences that were held just a few days apart. The first area conference was held in a large arena, and as we sat on the stand, we noticed continuous movement by the people. We saw individuals throughout the arena leaning over and whispering to family members and friends seated next to them. Giving the members the benefit of the doubt, we attributed the general lack of reverence to the nature of the facility.
A few days later, we were in another country attending another area conference in an arena much like the first. When we entered the arena, however, an immediate hush came over the congregation. As we sat through the two-hour general session, there was very little movement among the people. Everyone listened intently. Great attention and respect was shown all the speakers, and when the prophet spoke, you could hear a pin drop.
After the meeting was over, I asked the priesthood leaders about what they had done to prepare the people for the conference. They told me their preparation had been simple. They had asked priesthood holders to explain to the members of their families, and also the families they home taught, that at an area conference they would have the privilege of hearing the words of the prophet and the Apostles. The priesthood leaders explained that the reverence their people felt for God and His servants was the basis for their reverent behavior at the conference.

At a CES devotional in 2013, Elder David A. Bednar told the story of a worthy priesthood holder named John who had recently returned home from serving a mission and married a wonderful young woman named Heather. “Approximately three weeks after their temple marriage, John was diagnosed with bone cancer. Because cancer nodules were also discovered in his lungs, the prognosis was not good.”

Over the next few months, John underwent chemotherapy and a surgical procedure to remove a large tumor in his leg. Elder Bednar visited him and Heather in the hospital, and John asked if he would give him a priesthood blessing. Elder Bednar was then inspired to ask him, “I know you have the faith to be healed, but do you have the faith not to be healed?”

John later reported, “Having the faith not to be healed seemed counterintuitive, but that perspective changed the way my wife and I thought and allowed us to put our trust fully in the Father’s plan for us. … As we prayed, our petitions changed from ‘Please make me whole’ to ‘Please give me the faith to accept whatever outcome Thou hast planned for me.’” [6]

More than once I have heard priesthood leaders say that they had been inspired to go to someone in need, only to find the visiting teacher or the home teacher had already been there. My wife, who is here with me tonight, is an example. We had a bishop once who said to me, “You know, it bothers me—when I get an inspiration to go to someone, your wife has already been there.” Your faith will grow as you serve the Lord in caring for Heavenly Father’s children as the Lord’s teacher to their home. You will have your prayers answered. You will come to know for yourself that He lives, that He loves us, and that He sends inspiration to those with even the beginnings of faith in Him and with the desire to serve Him in His Church.

After years of inactivity, my father abruptly announced one day that we were going back to church. This met with some protest from me. Throughout my childhood I knew only vaguely of the Mormon Church. Basically I knew that there were rules against everything I was currently doing. I viewed the religion as a fanatical organization that demanded self-denial, something that my friends and I didn’t understand and wholly condemned. Besides, what would my friends say if they found out?
Finally my father and I agreed that I would just try going to church for a while and then if I decided against going any more he wouldn’t force me. Sunday came. I sat through sacrament meeting and Sunday School as if I were deaf. Then came Young Women. I sat in the corner of the classroom, arms folded, eyes glaring. (Later I found out that I had actually scared my adviser as much as I had hoped I would.) With that Sunday over I declared I would never go again! In order to avoid going the following Sundays, I claimed I had all kinds of illnesses, from a cold to tonsillitis.
Although I would have denied it at the time, I felt something that first Sunday we went back to church. I felt something from the adviser who really seemed to care about this strange new girl in her class. I felt something, too, from a Latter-day Saint schoolmate who took an interest in my spiritual well-being. From then on, every time I did anything wrong she would remind me that some obscure God was watching my every move. Somehow she convinced me to keep going to church.
Then I met our bishop, a large rancher who seemed too gentle for his intimidating stature. In my first interview with him he asked me to pray. I refused. I knew how to pray, but I couldn’t because I believed God wouldn’t listen to a sinner. The bishop seemed to understand, although I didn’t see how he could because I was sure he had never sinned in his life. But he didn’t condemn me. He seemed to consider me of equal value to all the “saints” in our ward. Feeling so accepted, I continued to attend.
The next couple of months were filled with something I had never felt before. I came to realize that it was the Spirit of the Lord trying to tell me that everything I was hearing and feeling was true. I don’t think I had a testimony at that time. I only knew that I loved my schoolmate and her funny ideas. I loved my Young Women adviser because she loved me. I loved my bishop because he didn’t condemn me. I loved the feeling I had when I was with these people, and I wanted to have that feeling always in my life.

Imagine a 17-year-old boy walking through a school. He passes by two young women he knows. Each young woman hands him a piece of paper. The first hands him an envelope with a heart-shaped sticker on it, and the second hands him a flyer with an image of a red cross on it. Without reading either one, he starts thinking about asking the first girl to a dance and giving the second girl a donation for recent flood victims. He has a different reaction to the images because each one holds a different meaning for him; in other words, they are symbols.