Gospel Story Finder

At age 19, I moved to Jakarta and joined my mother. We had been separated for many years because mother had to find a job to survive when my father died. I was very lonely in this big city of 8 million people. I turned to the New Testament to study about the Savior. I had forgotten the scriptures for many years during my teenage years. One day, in early 1977, as I stood in the main train station seeing my friend off to his home town, a young lady came over and asked me about the starting date of the school year. She had mistaken me as her class mate. This introduction led me to the invitation to join her family at Church. What a miracle that was, a mistaken miracle I called it. I went with them to a small Church. I received a warm welcome. It was my first time attending a meeting of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. The missionaries taught me and I accepted baptism and was confirmed a member of the Church on the 30th of April 1977.

I didn't know much at that time about the church, but I knew that Joseph Smith was a prophet. Yes I knew it! I felt my Heavenly Father's love. Somehow, I felt that life had a purpose and meaning. I could see a light for the future.

On Christmas Eve, 1997, I met a remarkable family. Each member of the family had an unshakable testimony of the truth and of the reality of the Resurrection. The family consisted of a mother and father and four children. Each of the children—three sons and a daughter—had been born with a rare form of muscular dystrophy, and each was handicapped. Mark, who was then 16 years old, had undergone spinal surgery in an effort to help him move about more freely. The other two boys, Christopher, age 13, and Jason, age 10, were to leave for California in a few days to undergo similar surgery. The only daughter, Shanna, was then five years old—a beautiful child. All of the children were intelligent and faith-filled, and it was obvious that their parents, Bill and Sherry, were proud of each one. We visited for a while, and the special spirit of that family filled my office and my heart. The father and I gave blessings to the two boys who were facing surgery, and then the parents asked if little Shanna could sing for me. Her father mentioned that she had diminished lung capacity and that it might be difficult for her, but that she wanted to try. To the accompaniment of a recorded cassette, and in a beautiful, clear voice—never missing a note—she sang of a brighter future:
On a beautiful day that I dream about
In a world I would love to see,
Is a beautiful place where the sun comes out
And it shines in the sky for me.
On this beautiful winter’s morning,
If my wish could come true somehow,
Then the beautiful day that I dream about
Would be here and now.
The emotions of all of us were very near the surface as she finished. The spirituality of this visit set the tone for my Christmas that year.

I kept in touch with the family, and when the oldest son, Mark, turned 19, arrangements were made for him to serve a special mission at Church headquarters. Eventually, the other two brothers also had an opportunity to serve such missions.

Nearly a year ago, Christopher, who was then 22 years old, succumbed to the disease with which each of the children has been afflicted. And then, last September, I received word that little Shanna, now 14 years old, had passed away. At the funeral services, Shanna was honored by beautiful tributes. Leaning on the pulpit for support, each of her surviving brothers, Mark and Jason, shared poignant family experiences. Shanna’s mother sang a lovely musical number as part of a duet. Her father and grandfather gave touching sermons. Though their hearts were broken, each bore powerful and deep-felt testimony of the reality of the Resurrection and of the actuality that Shanna lives still, as does her brother Christopher, each awaiting a glorious reunion with their beloved family.

When it was my time to speak, I recounted that visit the family made to my office nearly nine years earlier and spoke of the lovely song Shanna sang on that occasion. I concluded with the thought: “Because our Savior died at Calvary, death has no hold upon any one of us. Shanna lives, whole and well, and for her that beautiful day she sang about on a special Christmas Eve in 1997, the day she dreamed about, is here and now.”

We had a wonderful experience with our son that taught us the importance of exercising faith in our Heavenly Father’s plan. He was about six or seven years old at the time. We were visiting with family for a few weeks and went for a drive with them to Park City, Utah. It was a beautiful winter day; we were seeing the sites and had stopped at one of the ski resorts. As we were walking, we noticed our son had climbed high on a nearby steep hill. His grandfather looked up the hill and asked, “JD, how did you get so far up that hill?” JD’s response (and he had to shout so we could hear him): “Grandpa, you just gotta believe!” That experience has been a good reminder to our family of the importance of exercising faith as you are lengthening your stride.

As the anchor on the four-man 1,600-meter relay for his high school in Kansas City, Missouri, Adam Mack (center above) knew a lot was at stake. A good showing in the sectional meet, and his team would qualify for the state competition. After the first two legs, his team was in third place. Then during the third leg, a rival runner pushed Adam’s teammate off the track. He recovered, but the team finished seventh.
Things erupted. Everyone was angry. There was profanity, pushing, and threats, and the crowd was yelling. Adam’s team members were in tears.
Adam was an example of how Mormons conduct themselves in a bad situation. “How could we rid ourselves of that horrible feeling of contention?” said Adam. “I stopped my friends in the middle of the field and told them we needed to pray. I prayed to the Lord that we would have forgiveness in our hearts. I asked him to take away our sorrow and our feelings of contention. I asked for peace and that each of us would have understanding. I also prayed that the Holy Ghost would be with us through hard times.
“As I looked up, my friends were crying. They told me they had never felt a power like that before. They thanked me over and over again. The tension and the hurt of the loss were gone.”
Although most of the team members have gone to college, they are still close. The bond they formed went beyond teammates to true friends.

Rookies Kenny, Jacob, and Harlan may have made the Little League Angel Park Dodgers team, but they still have problems. In Making the Team, even though they ace the tryouts, they still have to prove to the older guys that they, the rookies, really are good. In Big Base Hit, Harlan is going to be kicked off the team if he doesn’t come through for it. Find out how the team got out of its awful slump in Winning Streak. In What a Catch! veteran player Brian will have to quit the team unless he can show his dad that he can play well. Jacob and Harlan are convinced that Kenny thinks that he is too good for them in Rookie Star.Dean Hughes7–11 years

“I have a great respect for nature, and I have always loved animals and birds and have tried to protect them. Once when we were youngsters, a friend of mine and I were riding double on a horse along the railroad track. Suddenly I spied an owl that had a broken wing and couldn’t do anything but run along the ground. I slid off the horse, caught the owl, and got back on the horse behind my friend. I remember that it was a beautiful white horse with a long mane. We started galloping along the railroad track, and the owl started to wiggle. It stuck its claws into that horse, causing it to jump straight into the air and make a big kick. I rolled off backward, but somehow I kept my hold on the owl, and it never got away. We took the owl home, put splints on its broken wing, and turned it loose.

“My wife and I have had a wonderful experience in the Pacific Islands. One day we went to a little Tahitian island on a boat, and as the boat pulled up to the dock, twenty-seven children were standing on it, singing, ‘I Am A Child of God.’ I thought, What a beautiful, beautiful thing to know that children all over the world are singing the hymns of the Church and beautiful Primary songs.

“Heavenly Father loves all children. Jesus loves them, too—children of all countries, colors, and creeds.

“Live the principles of the gospel so that you can live again with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. Listen to the counsel of the prophets. Stay pure and clean after your baptism. Your parents and Primary teachers will teach you the things that you should do. Listen to them and do what they tell you.”

Such a long absence seemed impossible now that I was home. Behind me was a year spent in Brazil as an exchange student. And here was Marcia, as pretty, smart, and fun to be with as ever. A year away at college had agreed with her, and I was glad we would have a few weeks together before she returned to BYU.
I had never known a Church member until I met Marcia. She puzzled and fascinated me. With our days full of schoolwork, school plays, and more, I found out she attended a religion class before school each morning. When our group of friends planned Sunday activities, she went to church instead of picnics, shopping, or parties. Despite our differences, our friendship deepened.
Marcia once gave me a Book of Mormon, but after reading only a few pages I returned it. I occasionally went to church with her—more frequently to church dances. I considered Marcia my best friend.
“What do you have in this suitcase?” Marcia grunted as we swung the enormous case onto my bed.
“Brazilian candy and a soda called Guarana. You’ll love it. Also, I brought some goiabada. I want to cook some Brazilian foods.”
“Are you telling me this thing is full of food?”
“Hardly. I’ve got tons of pictures, and some music, and …” I snapped the locks up, “presents for my friends!” I flipped the case open and began rummaging for Marcia’s gift.
“Jessica.” Something in Marcia’s voice startled me. Looking up I saw she was holding a Book of Mormon. “Where did you get this?”
I took the book gently from her hand and rubbed my thumb over the gold-embossed title. At the airport Marcia had remarked on the changes she saw in me. I was deeply tanned—a true first for my fair and freckled skin. My hairstyle and clothes had taken on a distinctly Brazilian quality, and I was having trouble completing sentences entirely in English. But the changes she hadn’t yet detected were lasting changes. I’d kept this information close to my heart, waiting for the right moment to share it with her. This was my biggest surprise.
“There’s something I haven’t told you,” I said, tears stinging my eyes. “I was baptized three weeks ago on July 10th.”
I was unprepared for her scream. She fell back on the bed and screamed a second time. She jumped up and, with tears streaming down her face, grabbed me. Hugging, laughing, and crying we spun together in circles.
I was really lost before I found the gospel. In Brazil the legal drinking age is 18. My host family offered me membership to their country club and a nightclub. It sure was exciting. But the excitement wore off. I got tired of the meaningless social scene and started craving spiritual things.
The only churches I knew of were Catholic, and so I started attending Mass regularly. About two months later a couple of elders showed up at my host home. My host sisters were wild with excitement and dragged me to the front gates so I could talk to another American.
On the day I was supposed to have the first discussion, I got cold feet. I was with a friend and told her I didn’t want to go home because some missionaries were coming to see me. She invited me to go to her house to avoid them, but we needed to go to the post office first. We got our mail and were leaving when the missionaries walked in. That was the day they taught me about the plan of salvation.
In telling Marcia about my conversion, I saw clearly that Heavenly Father had gone to great lengths to give me the gift of His gospel. God really wants us to return to Him. And Heavenly Father had provided opportunities through the missionaries for me to receive the gospel. He really wants us to find our way home to Him.

He obtained a position in the government of Venezuela and was sent to London. While there he urged people with influence to force Spain to withdraw from his country, but had little success.
Disappointed, he went back to San Mateo where reports of his revolutionary talk had reached Venezuela ahead of him. So before he was thirty he was banished from his beloved country, his estate was taken from him, and he was left without money or friends. Somehow he managed to get passage on a small boat that took him to the little hot and sandy island of Curacao in the Caribbean Sea.
The island belonged to England at that time and English merchants provided him with food and a bed. Although Simón talked of a revolution against Spanish rule in Venezuela, they were surprised when he and his young cousin Ribas left the island and set sail for Colombia.
Arriving there, the two young men recruited an army of two hundred untrained men who had no uniforms except ragged civilian clothing. Their powder and bullet pouches were made of roughly sewn cowhide, and their worn-out muskets and bayonets were almost useless. Few of them had hats to cover their heads, and most of them had tattered leather sandals on their feet. But Simón was able to inspire and persuade them to follow him. After only a little training, this army captured a Spanish riverside fort in a surprise attack. There the men found ammunition, clothing, and food.
Simón was soon joined by other revolutionaries. Some battles were lost, but more were won. With odds almost beyond belief, Simón was able to rally his forces and add to them after every defeat. They followed him over the nearly insurmountable Andes Mountains, half frozen, hungry, and exhausted. Several women, wives of the soldiers, took part in this march across the mountains and one of them gave birth to a baby on the slopes of Mt. Pisba. At last they reached the plains of Venezuela where the small band of ragged revolutionaries fought a well-equipped army more than twice its size—and won!
Still poorly equipped and outnumbered, Bolívar then led his troops into other countries and also helped them to obtain their freedom.
However, Simón Bolívar, who was so successful in encouraging, training, and leading armies under the most adverse conditions, was unable to unite the various governments of the countries as he wanted so much to do. Disillusioned by the politicians’ jealousies, littleness, and bickering, he once wrote, “It is a terrible truth that it costs more strength to maintain freedom than to endure the weight of tyranny.”
Another time he saluted all men who fight for freedom with these words:
“I drink to the heroic endurance of the soldiers of both armies, to their loyalty, patience and courage. I drink to the men who, defying all terrors, take up the cause of liberty . … But perish all who desire bloodshed and who shed blood in an unjust cause.”
In November of 1830 Simón Bolívar, who had resigned from active government leadership, despaired of uniting South America and, hurt by the political intrigue of men in governments, became ill. Escaping a planned assassination against his life while in Bogota, Colombia, he fled to Santa Marta, the oldest permanent settlement in South America. Alone, misunderstood, and almost penniless he died there December 17, 1830. His farewell message to his countrymen urged them to continue fighting for freedom.
Statues of Simón Bolívar have been erected in the countries where he was once president, and the standard silver coin of Venezuela is named the bolivar after him—El Libertador, the liberator of South America!

I saw a copy of the Book of Mormon in my niece’s house in Ibadan, Nigeria. Being an avid reader, I was curious to understand why the book says it is “another testament of Jesus Christ,” so I took the book and read it.
The subtitle “another testament of Jesus Christ” opened my mind to the possibility of a universal Savior rather than just the Savior of the Israelites, which at that time was a great concern to me. His visit to the Nephites and the establishment of His laws and ordinances among those people got me wanting to know more about His ministry.
That subtitle led me to learn more about the Church. I started feeling the Spirit as I obeyed the admonitions written in the Book of Mormon, like praying to know the truth for myself (see Moroni 10:4). Now I know that the Savior lives and loves all of us.
Ezekiel Akeh, Idaho, USA

In closing, I would like to share with you one final personal experience about feeding the Lord’s sheep.

This is my faculty photo composed and taken by our campus photographer, Monique Saenz, and her crew. I always appreciate Monique’s work. She makes us all look great, and in this photo I look better than I ever usually do. But I’m not really showing you this photo to have you admire my looks. I want to share with you the backstory of this photo.

A short time before this faculty photo was taken, I had lost my husband to cancer, and his death left me tired, sad, and heartbroken.

I was serving as a counselor in our ward Relief Society presidency at the time of his death. One day, my Relief Society president and the other counselor in the presidency showed up at my door with a box. Inside the box were two beautiful dresses. I am wearing one of these dresses in this photo. I was literally clothed in charity…in the charity of these two dear sisters.

Because of this, the photo serves to remind me of the kindness and love of these sisters, and also of the many other acts of charity that were shown to me and my family at this difficult time. My colleagues, including faculty, staff and administrators, and students at this university, and also our extended family members in our community, helped me in so many ways, teaching my classes, visiting me and my family, providing food and service at our home, and offering kind words of love and comfort. I cannot begin to completely list all that was done in service at that time, but I remember it all, and have thanked the Lord many times for what was offered by so many.

At the same time that I was caring for Mary, I had another patient whom I will call Jane. She was 42 years old. Like Mary, she had cancer that could not be cured. Soon after she learned she had a terminal disease, she left home, moved into a local hotel, and followed a life-style in exact opposition to gospel teachings. She visited the bars and drank heavily, and she tried narcotics. In her own words, she was “trying everything before she died.” She died screaming in pain, cursing God.

Alma taught that, for the righteous, the spirit world will be a paradise—“a state of rest, a state of peace, where they shall rest from all their troubles and from all care, and sorrow” (Alma 40:12). I have often wondered how we can be in a place of rest and yet be busy and deeply involved in intense activity. It reminds me of an account that one of my colleagues shared with me. His aged mother-in-law, who had been widowed for decades, saw into the spirit world shortly before her passing. She told the family that she had seen departed family members, including her beloved husband.
“Well, doesn’t that make you want to go join them?” a daughter asked her.
She responded, “Oh, no. They were so busy. It made me tired watching them.”

My wife and I traveled to Osorno Chile to pick up our son when he completed his mission. As we traveled around the mission with him, we took many pictures and the memory in our camera was getting full. So one evening we left the cottage where we were staying and went to an internet café so we could download the pictures onto a thumb drive. We were only gone a short time but when we returned, we found our cottage had been broken into and we had been robbed. We called the police and by the time they completed their investigation and let us go, it was about 3:00 int the morning. Because that cottage was a mess from the dusting for fingerprints and everything else the police had done, they moved us to a different cottage and we went to sleep but we had to wake up at 6:00 in the morning for a scheduled hike with a group to the top of an active volcano.

Rather than sleep in, we chose to get up and take the hike and created a wonderful memory with our son. We never did get any of our items returned to us. My son could have been very upset because he had lost so many memories from his mission including his missionary bag containing his scriptures, but instead, he simply said that he hoped the robbers would read his scriptures and join the church.

What would have happened if we had just gotten angry at the situation and decided to just sleep through the hike the next morning? In that case, our trial would have taken control of our lives and we would have been miserable. Instead, we chose to be happy, to climb the volcano and we had a wonderful time with our son and the rest of the group. President Gordon B. Hinckley often taught that, “Things work out. It isn’t as bad as you sometimes think it is. It all works out. Don’t worry. I say that to myself every morning. It will all work out. If you do your best, it will all work out. Put your trust in God, and move forward with faith and confidence in the future. The Lord will not forsake us. He will not forsake us. ...If we will put our trust in Him, if we will pray to Him, if we will live worthy of His blessings, He will hear our prayers.”

This quote is now printed over the top of a picture that I took of the volcano in Chile that we climbed that day and it sits in my office as a reminder of how we can find joy even in the midst of trial and adversity if we choose to be happy.

One wonderful thing happened when we were just starting in the United States. We needed so much advertising! Believe me, we needed a budget a hundred times larger than we had. We were worrying about how to stretch our dollars.

I was commuting between here and Vancouver, and one day I was in Canada when Mr. Kessler phoned me and said, “Rose Marie, a very large company wants to use you in their advertising. They want to know when you will be back in New York so that you can be photographed in full color. They also want to show some of your suits. The ad will be on the backs of all of the prominent magazines in America. They will be on billboards, newspapers—everywhere! It will amount to about $250,000 in free advertising for us, and they want to know when you will be back in New York for the photographs.”

I said, “Oh, Jack, tell them I will go anytime for that.”

And he said, “There is only one hitch in it. You have to say that you smoke Camel cigarettes.”

I said, “Oh, my goodness! Well, ask if I can say Camels must be the best because my partner smokes them.”

And he said, “No, the slogan is ‘Experience Is the Best Teacher,’ and so they want you, and you have to say that.”

I said, “Well, Jack, you know the answer. I couldn’t possibly.”

He said, “Don’t answer now. I will call you tomorrow. You think about it.”

Well, our budget for advertising that year— that we could afford to spend ourselves—was about $30,000. So to get $250,000 worth of free advertising would have been tremendous.

I went home that night to my children—who were seven, nine, and eleven—and I said, “How would you like to have someone advertise our business for us so we would have lots of money and we could buy a big, beautiful home with a swimming pool, cars, a horse for Bruce to ride, and everything you want?”

And they said, “Oh, Mommy, how?”

And I said, “A company wants to use me in its advertising. All I have to do is say I smoke Camel cigarettes.”

And they said in disgust, “Oh, Mommy, we don’t need a house. We have a house. Bruce can rent a horse, and we don’t need a swimming pool.”

And I thought, “Isn’t that wonderful?”

So when Mr. Kessler called me the next day, I said, “Well, Jack, I am awfully sorry, but you know the answer. I really feel sorry about it because, after all, I am only part of the business. It is your business too, and I hate to deprive you of this advertising by saying no, but I just could not possibly do it.”

Then the most wonderful thing happened. Mr. Kessler said, “Rose Marie, Nina and I talked this over, and we would have been afraid for the future of this business if you had said yes. It will be made up to us many times. Don’t you even give it another thought.”

And I thought, “How very blessed I am that I could be associated with people who could have an understanding of Mormon principles like that.”

And I was very happy when I saw that the Camel designer series of ads lasted only six months and not one swimsuit designer was ever featured on it. We all feel that it has been well worth the sacrifice, for this business has grown faster than we could cope with it!

When my son Elard Manuel was baptized in 1990, he had a job in a grocery store where working Sundays and holidays was mandatory. The economic situation in Peru is quite difficult. There are few jobs, and many people are out of work. It seemed virtually impossible for my son to change his employment.
“I’m going to pay my tithing,” he said. “I have faith in the Lord, and somehow I’m going to get a job with Sundays off.”
During these years my son continued to try to find a job that wouldn’t require him to work on Sunday. Our whole family prayed and fasted and asked the Lord to help him find a new job so that he could hold a Church calling.
Finally my son decided to work for one more month and then quit his job—whether he had a new one or not. We were quite worried because people everywhere were losing their jobs. But my son said, “I have faith in the Lord, and I know He is going to help me find a job with Sundays off.”
The grocery store he worked for has a huge warehouse where all the merchandise is brought before being distributed to the stores. It is quite far away, but the employees there have Sundays off. To our joy and surprise, my son was able to transfer to that warehouse. Our Heavenly Father had heard our prayers. And my son did receive a Church calling—as a counselor in the bishopric.
When we asked the Lord with faithful hearts and with fasting and prayer, He answered us with blessings.

When I was 19, I also traveled far from my family for the very first time to Utah. I attended a YSA ward. My English was limited, and I didn’t know anybody. I felt lost. I will never forget my dear Bishop Moody. I grew up without a father, but as soon as I met him, he became a father figure to me. I am not sure we communicated very well (because of language barriers); but I remember the power of the sanctity of his office. I remember feeling so strongly that he was my bishop. I looked up to him, and I never wanted to do anything that would disappoint him. In fact, one time on a group date my friends took me to a place that was clearly the wrong place to be in. I felt bad being there but didn’t want to be the first to say anything. As time passed and no one said anything about leaving, the thought came to my mind: What would Bishop Moody think if he saw me here? I then had the courage to stand up and say, “I want to leave. If no one is willing to drive me, I’ll just walk.” I never told him this, but I will thank him forever.

I have been drawing pictures for my whole life. When I was little, I drew all the time. My mom asked me to tell her the story for each picture I drew. I told her the stories, and she wrote them down for me.
From a young age, I wanted to become an artist. I loved watching animated movies. I wanted to be part of making something like that. My mom always believed in me, and she helped me believe that I could do it.
To get better at art, I practiced a lot. I volunteered for things. I drew posters for community events. I painted store windows. I painted banners. One time I helped paint sets at an opera house.
These experiences taught me that art was a way that I could serve. I had fun using my talents to help others. I felt more motivated because I was making something beautiful for someone else.
When I grew up, I became an artist for Disney. I tried new things and developed talents I didn’t know I had. Heavenly Father led and guided me to where I needed to be.

Let me close with a final concrete example from a person who is not a member of our Church. President Dallin H. Oaks (former president of Brigham Young University), told me of this inspiring application of the very point I am trying to make about choices and obligations. As you know, President Oaks as a young law professor was closely associated with Justice Lewis M. Powell, now of the Supreme Court of the United States. Justice Powell’s daughter was herself a recent graduate of a fine law school, following which she began a very successful law practice and a marriage almost simultaneously. Some time thereafter she had her first child. In paying a courtesy call as a family friend, President Oaks was pleasantly surprised to find this young mother at home with her child full time. When asked of this decision the young woman replied, “Oh, I may go back to the law sometime but not now. For me the issue was simple. Anyone could take care of my clients, but only I can be the mother of this child.” What an incisive answer to an issue she says was simple! And it does seem to have been simple because she approached it, not in terms of rights, but first and foremost in terms of responsibilities. I think the issue would not have been so simple if her attitude had been, “It’s my career,” or “It’s my life.” But her concern was for her obligations. When considered that way, the issue and the answer were simple.

These thoughts ran through my mind for the next several months. One evening in September 2007, my mother, my three younger siblings, and I were leaving a deli in my hometown of Haverhill, Massachusetts, USA, and stopped to sit on a bench. Two young men in black suits, white shirts, and ties approached us. One of them said, “I know it may seem a little bit awkward to talk to two people you don’t know, but could we share a message with you?”
We agreed. I knew they were going to talk to us about religion, and I was impressed that they didn’t just thrust a card or pamphlet at us and walk off. Rather, these young men genuinely seemed interested in us and excited about their message. At the conclusion of their message, they asked if they could visit our family. My mother agreed and set up a time, so I have her to thank for what became a great change for good in my life.
We started learning the gospel. After a while Mom became busy with different things and didn’t continue to meet with the missionaries, but I did.
I connected easily with Elder Kelsey and Elder Hancock. Perhaps part of the reason was that they weren’t that much older than I was. I felt great love from them and for them. Soon I felt that same love from ward members and from other youth in my stake.
The missionaries taught me the plan of salvation, which answered the questions I had about my uncle and about my own purpose in life. The elders also introduced me to the Book of Mormon. I remember reading in Alma 32 about the seed of faith developing and tasting good (see verse 28). That description was exactly how the Book of Mormon seemed to me. What I was reading and what the missionaries were teaching me rang true, felt right, and tasted good.
My mom teased me about what she called my “hermit crab stage” because I would retreat to my bedroom and spend several hours reading the Book of Mormon. Although I didn’t recognize my feelings as the Holy Ghost at that time, I felt that this path was right.
When the missionaries asked me to be baptized, they encouraged me to pray about the decision. When I prayed to know if joining The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was what I was supposed to do, I received a very direct answer, to the point that it shocked me. The direction was clear: go forward with baptism.
I remember vividly the day I was baptized—December 15, 2007. As I stood in the cold water with Elder Kelsey and he raised his hand to the square, the Spirit just filled me up; it seemed to take over my whole frame. I could say that I was also grinning from ear to ear, but that description doesn’t even come close to describing what I felt.
After my baptism I continued to feel the Spirit. I felt sanctified. I knew that my sins had been remitted. I felt the approval of Heavenly Father that this was, indeed, the path I was supposed to take.
Occasionally, when little doubts pop up, I go back to that experience and remember how I felt that day. Remembering what I felt then helps me dispel any doubt I may encounter.
Even though we don’t reenter the waters of baptism to have those powerful feelings again, we can remember that feeling when we renew our covenants through repentance and the sacrament. Each time I repent, I can find that feeling again—one of being cleansed and of being loved.
Feeling that love helps me identify with what Joseph Smith taught: “A man filled with the love of God, is not content with blessing his family alone, but ranges through the whole world, anxious to bless the whole human race.”1 Knowing the worth of a soul helps me be excited about opportunities to go teaching with the missionaries in my area. I also look forward to the day when I can serve a full-time mission and share how happy the gospel of Jesus Christ has made me.

I experienced every missionary’s dilemma: I missed my family and wanted to see them as soon as I went home, but I enjoyed serving so much I didn’t want to leave my mission... My family was glad to see me, but pretty soon the temporal concerns we faced began to overwhelm me.
I needed to pay for my education and help with the needs of our family, and soon I became the breadwinner. I worked in a fastfood restaurant, was in construction, took odd jobs, and accepted any offer that would help put food on the table. I began to miss Church, and my RM friends would visit and remind me of my covenants.
I realized how hard life was when I didn’t put the Lord first, so I talked to my bishop, and he helped me with my repentance process. I began to truly understand the power of the Atonement of Jesus Christ.
All the emotional and spiritual pain went away, and I was blessed because when I came back to Church my two younger siblings also joined the Church. Feeling stronger spiritually, my desire to marry my girlfriend in the temple also grew.