Gospel Story Finder

As a child matures and starts working for money, whether for his parents or his neighbors, he will deal honestly and give honest labor for the returns he gets. Often the earliest employment for a young man is as a newsboy. Countless numbers of our successful businessmen today got their start in this occupation. They learned to be prompt and dependable. I knew a newsboy who always had his papers delivered on time regardless of the weather, and he handled his collections in a pleasant, courteous, and businesslike manner. He had many satisfied customers and had no difficulty in getting new subscriptions. This early training helped him to become a most successful businessman.

I was raised in a family that made family home evening a priority. In order to make it home in time on Mondays, we would go straight home from school without making plans to be with friends. Personal tasks, such as homework, were completed following family home evening. There really was nothing that took precedence over this special time for our family to be together.
Family home evening made an impact on us growing up not only because of the priority we placed on it but also because we worked together to make it happen. We rotated who would give the lesson, who would prepare the refreshments, and who would say the opening and closing prayers. We didn’t just listen to lessons but also had opportunities to be instructors. As a result, I was blessed to obtain a knowledge and testimony of the gospel and to have strengthened family ties.
Because family home evening has become a habit in my life, I look forward to the blessings it will bring when I have a family of my own.
Chieko Kobe, Japan

Several times when I became overwhelmed with the challenges of school, work, family, and research projects, direction and encouragement from others gave me the fortitude to continue. Last year, after several months of preparation, I made the eight-hour drive to the Navajo Reservation in Arizona. My purpose was to obtain the permission of the Navajo Nation Institutional Review Board to perform language research on the reservation for my honors thesis. After reviewing my 22-page application for only a few minutes, they rejected my proposal and sent me on my way. My return trip allowed me plenty of time to become overwhelmed with discouragement. I had all but decided to give up on the project when I called Dr. Wendy Baker, my thesis advisor. Her empathetic words of enthusiasm and hope during that phone call gave me the determination to continue. I did continue, and we found another avenue of data collection. I have since defended my thesis and presented our research at two academic conferences.

I feel we can never compare the levels of people’s burdens. Each has his or her own set of problems, and it’s up to each person to learn the lessons from them. In the past year, my family has lost my mother and brother-in-law to cancer. Both were kind, good, righteous people who were strong in the Church. For the longest time I would not try to learn from this. Instead I could only ask God why. Then, with the help of a blessing from my bishop, I was able to learn the lesson I needed to learn. I was able to gain a greater love towards my brother and sisters. I finally realized how much my family means to me. I know that if we pray for help, our trials will become blessings and make our spirits even stronger.
Jenifer Jakoubek, 17Chehalis, Washington

My mission president understood the principle that trials and challenges can be good for us. Shortly after I had been given the responsibility for directing the work of several missionaries, I received a phone call from a district leader reporting that two missionaries in his district had a heated argument that nearly ended in a fight. My companion and I went to the missionaries’ home to try to restore peace and resolve concerns.

We sat down with the two missionaries and started our meeting with a prayer. In the middle of the prayer we were interrupted by the knocking of another missionary living in the same home who reported to us that his companion, fully dressed in his missionary attire, was unresponsive, lying down, and appeared to be in some kind of a coma. After trying for some time to get this missionary to respond by shaking him, yelling, splashing water on him, and so forth, we finally called for an ambulance. EMTs arrived, revived him, and took him to the hospital.

As soon as the ambulance left, the first thing I did was to call my mission president on the phone. I related to him what had occurred with the fighting elders, as well as the elder in the coma. Feeling overwhelmed by these circumstances and in way over my head, I asked him, “President, what should I do?” I’ll never forget his wise response that became one of the greatest lessons of my life. Although funny now, it was a bit of shock to me at the time. “President, what should I do?” His reply, “I don’t know Elder Hoag. What should you do? You’re the senior zone leader – you pray about it, figure it out, and then call me back. That’s why I put you there.”

That's why he put me there.

Although I wanted him to, my mission president didn’t take the trial away from me, knowing that, like muscles, our mental and spiritual capacities grow and are strengthened by challenge.

“Why did I ever listen to those Mormon missionaries, anyway?” thought Johanna Anderson, as the boat pitched wildly beneath her feet. The voyage had been a difficult one, and today was especially rough. Just about everyone she knew on board was ill, and her faith began to waver as she thought, “Why must this journey be so long and hard?”
She could, at this very moment, have been home in her beloved Sweden with her caring parents. They had been converted by LDS missionaries in the early 1800s, and it was their greatest desire to send their family to the Salt Lake Valley. When their eldest son, Neils, earned enough money for passage to America for himself and his wife, his parents decided it would be a wonderful opportunity to send 14-year-old Johanna with them.
Johanna remembered the care her mother had taken in packing her trunk, and the surprise package she’d hidden in the bottom of it. “Johanna,” her mother told her, “when you are far from home, when your faith in God is low, or when you most need help, open the package in the bottom of your trunk. It will cheer your spirits and give you faith to go on to Utah.”
Well, Johanna’s spirits were certainly low at this point. Not only had the storms relentlessly punished their small ship, but the water for the three-month journey had gone stale. Many passengers were terribly sick, and some had even died and been buried at sea. Everything looked so bleak. Perhaps now was the time to open the package her mother had sent.
Quietly and unseen, she crept to the hull of the ship and found her trunk. She opened it and felt her precious package. Tears formed in her eyes when she saw what it contained. It was the most beautiful red coat she had ever seen. Her mother must have spent hours making it for her. She slipped into its warm softness and did a little dance on the heaving floor.
She hadn’t been this happy in a long time. She wanted to show her beautiful coat to all the others on the ship, but she thought again. This was her secret. This red coat was for Utah. She would wear it again when she arrived in the new land. Tenderly she returned the coat to her trunk.
The knowledge of her beautiful secret gave her courage for the rest of the journey. When no one else seemed able to eat, Johanna found herself hungry. She had become a special friend of the ship’s cook, and he would prepare her the Swedish pancakes she loved. He would place the big bowl in her lap while he added the ingredients, and would instruct her to “lean with the toss of the ship” so the batter would stay in the container.
Finally, after three months, the ship reached America. It took another three months for the Andersons to travel to St. Louis. There they purchased a wagon, ox teams, and supplies for the long trek across the plains.
While Neils and his wife drove the team, Johanna walked. She was young and strong and loved the wilderness, with its birds and animals. Every day she saw some new sight that stirred her. Occasionally she would see friendly Indians in the distance. And always, as she walked, she would think of the secret in her trunk—the soft, beautiful red coat—and how she would wear it when she reached her new home in Utah.
But unknown to the company she traveled with, hostile Indians had been following them since they crossed Wyoming. Johanna sensed things were not right and felt apprehensive. Finally, when evening came, the captain of the company moved the wagons together, forming a tight circle. The cattle and oxen were driven into the center, and there was no campfire, music, or dancing as there had been on other nights. The Saints were told to go to bed and stay quiet.
Johanna, exhausted from her long walk, fell into a deep sleep. But just at daybreak, she was awakened by voices and stamping horses’ hooves. Her sister-in-law motioned for her to lay quiet. Neils was not in his bed.
The voices grew louder and nearer, and Johanna noted the language was different. Her people were talking to the Indians.
She could hear rummaging in the wagon above her. Her trunk was at the end of the wagon, and she could tell it was being opened. She heard Neils’s voice dealing with the Indians.
Suddenly the voices ceased, and the men jumped down from the wagon. Their dealings had ended, and she could hear the Indians riding away.
Neils returned and took Johanna to the front of the wagon. In his firm Swedish, he said to his sister, “Johanna, stay here. Let nothing permit you to look back or go to the rear of our wagon. You have faith and the Lord will take care of all of us.”
The temptation was too great for Johanna, and she turned to look at the Indians riding away, single file and bareback on their ponies. Heading the warriors was Chief Walker, yelling and screaming and riding at top speed. Around his shoulders he wore her beautiful red coat.
Neils caught his sister in his arms. “Johanna, your coat saved your life—not only yours, but the lives of all in our company. The bright red color caught the chief’s eye. When he saw your coat, he was satisfied and then left us all unharmed.”
The Andersons soon reached Salt Lake City, and Johanna eventually married James Hansen, a Danish convert. They had ten children, and her descendants still tell her story to their children today.

At about the same time—by chance, or so I thought—my younger daughter convinced me to allow some scientists from Logan, Utah, to stay with us. They were in Russia to install equipment on the space station Mir. We became good friends, and every time they came to Moscow, they stayed with us.

They distracted me from my grief, but they were aware of my sorrow. Seeing my tears, Gail Bingham, one of the scientists, tried to comfort me: “Why are you crying?” he asked. “What can you do now? Don’t you know that God has taken your husband to be with him? Your husband was such an intelligent, good person—you will certainly see him again.”

Although I do not speak English very well, when he spoke about God, I understood everything he said.
Brother Bingham soon sent the missionaries to visit me. At first their prayers and testimonies seemed strange to me, and my interest in them was simply motherly concern. I thought of their mothers—what they must be experiencing having sent their sons and daughters to our cold Russia, so far from home. I wanted to feed and warm them.
As it turned out, the missionaries were not the ones who needed help—I was. I had lived my entire life without a real knowledge of God and his Son, and I was afraid to open my heart. But gradually, over the period of a year as the missionaries continued to teach me and as I began to attend church weekly, I turned more and more to God. The burden of my loss was eased.
Finally, on 10 December 1995, Brother Bingham baptized me. Now I know that although we may experience heartache and difficulties, such as the death of a loved one, the Lord gives us the strength to endure such difficulties. That strength, for me, is the faith that comes through finally having the Lord in my life—and the knowledge that through temple ordinances I can be with my husband again.

My mom and I were reading an encyclopedia about the human body. I was very interested in the pictures of two sets of lungs. One showed the lungs of a healthy person, and the other showed the damaged lungs of a person who smoked. Two days later some men came to our home to replace some carpets. I noticed one of the men smoking outside our home. Several times I heard him cough as he worked. I wanted to show him the picture of the lungs. When he was alone, my mom and I talked to him. I showed him the picture of the damaged lungs, and my mom told him that I was sad that he was smoking. The man smiled at me and said thank you. I felt good inside, and I hope he stops smoking so his lungs can be healthy.

Let me know how I can help. I’ve said this myself, dozens of times, but words alone are meaningless. I prefer the approach of my neighbor when a section of my backyard fence was blown over in a windstorm. He didn’t ask if there was anything he could do to help, he just came over one day, replaced a rotted post, and repaired the fence.
Are there some specific things that you could use some help with right now? When my neighbor saw my broken fence and fixed it, he knew that I needed help. But other needs aren’t as easily determined without asking. Gently ask or suggest ways in which you might help. For example, I was concerned that the financial provisions for my family were in order, but didn’t quite know how to go about determining whether or not they were. One day my bishop, who is a certified public accountant, came to see me. “If you’d like me to,” he said, “I’d be happy to review your financial affairs with you and your wife.” I was grateful for his tact, and relieved to learn after his review that things were as we wished them to be.

Years ago Elder J. Golden Kimball was traveling with one of the presiding brethren in southern Utah. In those days meetings often didn’t have a time limit; they went on as long as the speaker wanted to speak. For those of you looking for something to be grateful for, perhaps I’ve just given you one idea.

One fast Sunday they had been preaching nearly all day. Everyone was hungry, especially Elder Kimball, who felt that he “was pretty nearly dead.”

Finally, at about four o’clock in the afternoon, the presiding apostle turned and said, “Now, Brother Kimball, get up and tell them about the Era.”

The Era magazine had just been launched, and the Brethren wanted to encourage subscriptions. Elder Kimball approached the pulpit and then, after a short pause, said, “All you men that will take the Era if we will let you go home, raise your right hand.” There was not a single man who did not raise his hand that day and subscribe to the Era. (In J. Golden Kimball, CR, April 1932, 78.)

I had a particular experience in my life that showed me how using the wrong word can shock those who do not expect such an utterance to come from you. I was in boot camp in the U.S. Marine Corps during World War II. Of course, the language among my fellow Marines was not of the caliber that you would want to repeat. Being a recently returned missionary, I determined I should keep my language above the level they were using. I tried consistently to keep from saying even the simplest and most common of swear words.
One day we were on the rifle range firing for our final qualification scores. I had done well in the 100-, 200-, and 300-yard positions. Now we were back at the 500-yard position. All I needed was a reasonable score—just hitting the target without even having to hit the bull’s-eye—and I would make Expert Rifleman. We had been charged up with the desire to excel and be the top platoon in firing for qualifications. I tensed up at the 500-yard standing position and on my first shot threw my shoulder into the rifle. Of course, the flag waved—I had missed the target. And likewise I missed the opportunity of being named Expert Rifleman.
Out of my mouth came a little four-letter word that I had determined never to use. Much to my shock and chagrin, suddenly the whole range stopped firing and everyone turned and looked at me with their mouths open. Any other Marine firing from that position that day could have used the word I used without anyone paying attention. But because I had determined that I would carry the standards of the mission field into the Marine Corps, everyone was shocked when I forgot myself.

Han Sang Ick of the Shin Dang Ward in Seoul knows that he has been richly blessed as a result of his obedience. Although his life has not taken the path he had originally planned, Brother Han says, “I am happier today than I ever imagined.”
A university drama student with aspirations to perform and teach, Brother Han was selected as student body president of the Latter-day Saint institute in Seoul. “All the prior presidents had served a mission,” he explains. “I found myself doing some serious thinking about whether I should serve a mission or not.”
Brother Han, baptized at age seventeen and the only member of the Church in his family, struggled with his family responsibilities. His father had died, and as the eldest son, he was responsible for his mother. “She really expected me to graduate, marry, and take care of her. That is the pattern established through the years.”
Instead, Brother Han graduated, arranged for his mother to be taken care of, and, at age twenty-six, became a full-time missionary. “And of course, that was the right decision,” he concludes. “My mother was blessed, and I established a pattern of righteous decisions.”

In 1984, Elder Bruce R. McConkie described a survey that was given at the Missionary Training Center in Provo.[1] The missionaries were asked to evaluate their own testimonies about ten different truths, including:
I quote what happened next from his biography:
In a very sober tone, Elder McConkie asked: "Would you be interested in knowing which of these [ten] areas was the lowest in terms of testimony?" Everyone nodded. He said: "The lowest area of testimony across elders, sisters, and couples [was]:
...Elder McConkie [then] raised his voice and said: “Something's wrong. Something's terribly wrong!”[2]
Brothers and sisters, Elder McConkie is right. If Joseph Smith—and the Restoration of the gospel through him—is not a fundamental part of our testimony, then something is definitely wrong.

“Actually, I can” is my personal motto. When people meet me for the first time, they don’t realize that I can do a lot of things if I’m creative and put my mind to it.
When I was eight years old, I was diagnosed with juvenile idiopathic arthritis. I thought I would have to give up all the things I love to do—dance, softball, volleyball—but my medication allowed me to keep living my normal life. I stayed super active and kept doing what I loved. I even started playing the snare drum in marching band. Then in 10th grade, my arthritis flared up and I got really sick. I couldn’t hold up my snare drum anymore. And I had to quit dance because it was too difficult for me to participate.
I tried to stay positive. But I really missed my snare drum. Even though I wanted to give up, my family encouraged me to find hope. We figured out how to attach my snare drum to my wheelchair, and soon I was playing in the marching band again!
Lots of times when we’re faced with challenges, we automatically think we can’t do it. But the truth is that “actually, I can.”
Jess P., 17, Utah, USA

In this same area, a young girl was walking home with a friend and began humming “Come, Come, Ye Saints.” Her friend said, “My, that’s a beautiful melody. What is it?” The girl told her about it and made a date to take her to a church service. After attending a few times, she arranged for the missionaries to teach her family. The family members have all been baptized and are happy doing their part in building the kingdom.

Long before I was baptized into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I wanted to serve the Lord. I always said to myself that I would devote all of my time to Him no matter what. Serving Him throughout my life was my dream. And joining the Church of Jesus Christ gave me an even better chance at following my dream.
In December 2017, I was baptized. That was the greatest day of my life. The gospel taught me how to think differently, how to inspire others, how to overcome my fears, and how to reinforce my talents and discover new ones. Eventually I also learned about the opportunity to serve a full-time mission. I immediately knew that was something I wanted to do. So day by day, I worked to prepare. I read the scriptures, attended institute, and magnified my calling. However, there was one problem in my family that made me so uncertain about the future.
Poverty.
When I turned 18, poverty struck my family. We could barely eat, go to school, or even pay for transportation to church. The only thing we had left to hold onto was our faith. This situation really slowed down my process of serving a mission. I opened up to mom about my desire, but she repeated something she had often told me: “Finish school, then follow your dreams.” Because of our financial situation, I didn’t have much of a choice. So I worked hard to get through school.
Eventually I graduated and was finally ready to go out and serve the Lord. But poverty was still affecting us.
I was frustrated.
I thought, “I’ve finished school, and I’ve done everything I can. Why is this still not working out?” I didn’t want to wait for my dream any longer, but despite being discouraged, I trusted that things would work out with time.
I decided to work extra hard to earn all the money for my mission expenses. I prayed every day, visited with the missionaries as much as possible, and strengthened my testimony by studying Church materials.
A lot of my relatives were against my dream to serve a mission. They would tell me that serving a mission would only make things worse for me and my family. But I stood my ground. I knew that I wanted to serve a mission and that Heavenly Father would provide a way.
After a long while of working and saving money, I finally submitted my mission papers. When my bishop called me and told me my call had arrived, I shouted and jumped for joy! I immediately went to the stake office and got the letter. That evening, I opened my mission call and announced to my family that I was called to serve in the Philippines Cabanatuan Mission.
I cried tears of joy that night. Despite all that had happened, with faith and hard work and trust in the Lord, I finished everything I needed to do to serve a mission and fulfill my dream. I realized that if I hadn’t experienced that hardship before my mission, I might not have been completely physically, emotionally, spiritually, mentally, and financially prepared. But because of my circumstances, I was able to grow in so many ways.
I know that Heavenly Father has a plan for all of us. Everything you’re going through might not make sense at times, and you might want things to happen sooner rather than later, but trust in His timing rather than your own. If we trust in Him and exercise faith and work hard, He will lead us to our righteous desires at the right time and help us grow along the way (see Enos 1:12 and Alma 29:4).
Marc Deo Dela Cruz is from Cagayán, Philippines.

These two principles are depicted in one of my favorite books called, The Hiding Place. It is a true story of the extraordinary adventure of Corrie Ten Boom--a courageous Christian woman who became a militant heroine of the anti-Nazi underground in Holland.

Her family had been engaged in hiding people from the Nazis in their home. Eventually, the protective acts of the Ten Boom family were discovered and they were sent to the dreadful concentration camps. Despite the misery, filth and disease they experienced in the various camps, Corrie and her sister, Betsie, always seemed to find a reason to rejoice.

On one occasion, Corrie was overcome with joy to have a compact Bible smuggled in to her. It became a source of strength to her and the other prisoners as she whispered its divine messages to the hungry souls of her cell mates. When Corrie and her sister Betsie, eventually ended up at Ravensbruck, the notorious women's extermination camp, she did not succumb to despair and depression. Rather, she continued to find God's influence in her tragic situation. She wrote, "Life in Ravensbruck took place on two separate levels, mutually impossible. One, the observable, external life, grew everyday more horrible. The other, the life we lived with God (through their secret Bible readings), grew daily better, truth upon truth, glory upon glory" (pg. 195).

On page 198, Betsie demonstrated her spiritual maturity when she expressed gratitude for her appalling circumstances. When the sisters and other women prisoners were assigned to the large room, known as Barracks 28, they were horrified to find the place swarming with fleas. As Corrie asked how they were supposed to live in such conditions, she discovered that Betsie, her more spiritually mature sister, was asking God aloud "Show us. Show us how." Almost immediately, Betsie answered her own question when she said excitedly, "Corrie! He's given us the answer! In the Bible this morning. Where was it? Read that part again!"

Corrie wrote:
"I glanced down the long dim aisle to make sure no guard was in sight, then drew the bible from its pouch. 'It was in First Thessalonians,' I said. 'Here it is: 'Comfort the frightened, help the weak, be patient with everyone. See that no one of you repays evil for evil, but always seek to do good to one another and to all.' It seemed written expressly to Ravensbruck.
'Go on,' said Betsie. 'That wasn't all.'
'Oh yes: 'to one another and to all. Rejoice always, pray constantly, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus ---'
'That's it, Corrie! That's His answer. 'Give thanks in all circumstances!' That's what we can do. We can start right now to thank God for every single thing about this new barracks!'
I stared at her, then around me at the dark, foul-aired room.
'Such as?'I said.
'Such as being assigned here together.'
I bit my lip. 'Oh yes, Lord Jesus!'
'Such as what you're holding in your hands.'
I looked down at the bible. 'Yes! Thank You, dear Lord, that there was no inspection when we entered here! Thank You for all the women, here in this room, who will meet You in these pages.'
'Yes,' said Betsie. 'Thank You for the very crowding here. Since we're packed so close, that many more will hear!' She looked at me expectantly. 'Corrie!' she prodded.
'Oh all right. Thank You for the jammed, crammed, stuffed, packed, suffocating crowds.'
'Thank You,'Betsie went on serenely, 'for the fleas and for--'
The fleas! This was too much. 'Betsie, there's no way even God can make me grateful for a flea.'
'Give thanks in all circumstances,' she quoted. 'It doesn't say, 'in pleasant circumstances.' Fleas are part of this place where God has put us.'
And so we stood between the bunks and gave thanks for fleas. But this time I was sure Betsie was wrong."

Well, it wasn't until several days after, when Betsie had spent some time away from the cell being treated for an illness, that she explained to Corrie why the fleas were a blessing to them. (pg. 209)
"'You know we've never understood why we had so much freedom in the big room, (referring to Barracks 28).Well, I found out.'
One afternoon when there had been some confusion with the knitting group and they asked for a supervisor to come and settle it, Betsie announced that 'she wouldn't step through the door and neither would the guards. And you know why?'
Betsie could not keep the triumph from her voice; 'Because of the fleas! That's what she said, 'That place is crawling with fleas!'
My mind rushed back to our first hour in this place. I remembered Betsie's bowed head, remembered her thanks to God for creatures I could see no use for."

Born in Salt Lake City, Utah, to Richard and Lena Sonntag, Elder Philip T. Sonntag grew up in Liberty Stake. “Of course, I don’t remember my coming into the world,” Elder Sonntag says, “but as other people have related it to me, the circumstances were quite remarkable. After my mother had had five children, she didn’t know whether it would be wise to have any more, so she petitioned the Lord for an answer. Later at Relief Society one day, the stake patriarch spoke. As he talked, he said that he was impressed that a sister there needed a blessing, adding that if that sister would come to him after the meeting, he would give her a blessing. The patriarch told my mother in the blessing that the Lord was pleased that she desired to have more children and that in doing so she would not feel the pains of childbirth nor suffer any difficulties. She had me and six more children and never suffered the usual pains of childbirth.
I had great parents. They instilled in us a love for the gospel. Mother was usually there to meet us whenever we came home. If part of the family had already had family prayer when some other family members returned, she would say, ‘Come, let’s have evening prayers,’ and we would pray together.
“My father was born in Germany. Later he came to America, met my mother, and joined the Church. Before the Great Depression, he ran several cafes. However, he lost them during the Depression, and there was just no other work available. As I look back on it, I don’t know how he managed as well as he did, but we never missed a meal.”
As each Sonntag child became old enough to get a job, he worked to help maintain the family. Elder Sonntag used to sell hot dogs and popcorn at ball games; he also worked at the growers’ market early in the mornings. “When any of us children brought home a dollar of earnings, Mother would have that child set aside a dime for tithing and a dime to keep or spend. The rest went toward family expenses.”
In Elder Sonntag’s ward a group of twelve boys his age played ball together and were good friends. They were also energetic and drove many Sunday School and Primary teachers away. Elder Sonntag relates that “the teachers all loved us, but they didn’t want to teach us. One, however, Sean Christensen, knew how to get through to us by teaching us a game that used our hands and kept us from hitting each other. Meanwhile, he would bear his testimony that God lives and that Jesus is the Christ.
“This teacher challenged us to go on missions. It meant a great deal to him to have ‘his boys’ be worthy to be missionaries, and Brother Christensen’s challenge greatly helped us to prepare.
“I had been taught to obey the Word of Wisdom, and I earnestly tried to obey it all my life. When I was married and a young bishop and the father of three children, my brother and I were involved in a serious car accident. I walked to get help for the other people in the accident, who were unconscious. By the time I got to the hospital myself, I’d lost a great deal of blood, and the doctors thought that I wouldn’t live. I asked the Lord to let me live to fulfill my responsibilities as husband, father, and bishop, and I heard a voice speaking, just as clearly as I might speak to you, say that because I had lived the Word of Wisdom all my life, I would ‘run and not be weary, and … walk and not faint’ [D&C 89:20] and that I would receive even more blessings. When my wife arrived at the hospital, someone suggested that she not go into my room because I looked so terrible. She asked, ‘Is he breathing?’ and went in anyway. She also received the same witness that I would live.”
Elder Sonntag wants the children of the Church to know that “it is a privilege to be a member of the Church and to live the commandments. The commandments are easy when you decide that you are going to keep them. The Word of Wisdom is not a hard thing—it is a blessing. It is within the power of each of you to determine what you want to be. There is no other you in the whole world. You are the only you; you are an individual. You alone can decide what you want to be and where you’re going to go. Choose the Lord’s way and live the gospel, for that will bring you the greatest happiness.”

When Elder Quentin L. Cook was 15 years old, he had a talk with his big brother, Joe. Joe was trying to decide if he should go to medical school instead of going on a mission. They talked long into the night. They talked about the gospel. They talked about testimonies. They talked about serving a mission.

Joe knew that going to medical school and becoming a doctor was a good way to help people. But he also knew that Jesus Christ truly lived, that Joseph Smith was really a prophet, and that the Book of Mormon was really true. So he knew that going on a mission first would be a better choice. Quentin learned that night that his brother Joe had a strong testimony.

5 Facts about Elder Cook
Born on September 8, 1940
The L stands for LaMar
Played basketball, football, and baseball in high school
Served a mission to the British Mission
Became an Apostle in October 2007

Quentin decided that he wanted to have a testimony too. After they finished talking that night, Quentin went to another room to pray. He had always had a testimony of Jesus Christ. And he believed that Joseph Smith was a prophet. He believed the Book of Mormon and the Church were true. But he wanted a spiritual witness from the Holy Ghost. As he prayed, a powerful witness came to him that swept away any doubts he had forever.
Now Elder Cook relies on that strong testimony to help him with every choice he needs to make.

When Ana finished her mission, she returned to her home in Ecuador’s capital city, Quito.
But she still wanted to serve. “Heavenly Father,” she prayed, “I want to keep serving, and I need to find a job. Please help me know how I can work and still help people.”
One day Ana’s prayer was answered. A man named Brother Mesa came to her house. He worked for the Church Educational System.
“Ana,” he said, “the Church needs volunteers to teach people how to read. Are you willing to help?”
“Yes!” Ana said. “Where do you need me to serve?”
He smiled. “Back in Otavalo!”
Ana smiled as she imagined being back in the villages she loved. She was grateful for the gifts Heavenly Father had given her to share—the gift of reading and the gift of the gospel. Both were miracles.