Gospel Story Finder

When I was 15 years old, I realized the significance of a testimony of the Book of Mormon, Joseph Smith, and the Savior and how it affects our choices.
My brother, Joe, was 20 years old. It was during the Korean conflict, and only one young man in each ward could go on a mission. The others had to be available to be drafted into the military. A young man in our ward had gone on a mission early in the year; my brother’s birthday was in September, so he didn’t think he would get the opportunity to serve a mission.
Our stake president called my brother in and told him that one of the wards had not used its allotment and he might be able to go. Missionaries were called at 20 years of age in those days, and my brother had just filled out his application to medical school. He was a good student. My father, who was not active in the Church, had made financial preparations to help him with medical school and was disappointed when he learned of the conversation with the stake president. My father counseled Joe not to go and suggested that he could do more good by going to medical school.
This was a big issue in our family. That night my brother and I talked about the choice. He was five years older, so it was mainly his thinking. As we reasoned it out, we concluded: If Jesus Christ was a great man but not divine, if Joseph Smith was a wonderful teacher but not a prophet, or if the Book of Mormon had wonderful counsel but was not the word of God, then Dad was right—it would be better to go to medical school. But if Jesus Christ is divine, if Joseph Smith is a prophet, and if the Book of Mormon is the word of God, then it would be more important to accept the call and proclaim the gospel.
That night, more than ever before, I wanted to know the answers to these questions. I had always believed in the divinity of Jesus Christ. I believed in Joseph Smith and the Book of Mormon, but I wanted confirmation from the Lord. That night, as I prayed, the Spirit bore witness to my soul of the Savior and the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon and that Joseph Smith was a prophet. My brother received the same witness and made the choice to serve a mission. Incidentally, when my brother returned from his mission, he went to medical school. When I reached my 20th birthday, my father was happy to see me serve a mission.

Why is it necessary for us to suffer on the way to repentance for serious transgressions? We tend to think of the results of repentance as simply cleansing us from sin. But that is an incomplete view of the matter. A person who sins is like a tree that bends easily in the wind. On a windy and rainy day, the tree bends so deeply against the ground that the leaves become soiled with mud, like sin. If we focus only on cleaning the leaves, the weakness in the tree that allowed it to bend and soil its leaves may remain. Similarly, a person who is merely sorry to be soiled by sin will sin again in the next high wind. The susceptibility to repetition continues until the tree has been strengthened.

In The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, youth testimony meetings are special. These gatherings provide an opportunity for young individuals to express their beliefs, share personal experiences, and strengthen their faith. The importance of these meetings cannot be overstated, as they serve as a platform for the youth to stand up and be heard. On 22 October 2023 youth in the Addis Ababa Ethiopia District participated in the Worldwide Day of Testimony. It was significant to these young Ethiopians and contributed to their spiritual growth.
Youth testimony meetings create a space where the voices of the young are amplified. In a world where their opinions can often be overlooked or undervalued, these gatherings provide an invaluable platform for the younger generation to express their thoughts, doubts, and beliefs. By sharing their personal experiences, the youth can inspire others, encourage empathy, and foster a sense of belonging within the community. All of this occurred on October 22 in Addis Ababa.
By participating in the Worldwide Day of Testimony confidence and self-expression was cultivated and strengthened in the youth. As they stood before their peers, family, and community members, they learned to articulate their thoughts and emotions effectively. Each young person grew as an individual by gaining confidence in expressing their unique perspectives, values, and understandings of their faith.
Youth testimony meetings, and certainly the Worldwide Day of Testimony, play a vital role in building stronger community among the youth and their leaders. By encouraging the young members to share their testimonies, the community of Saints gains a deeper understanding of their struggles, triumphs, and spiritual journeys. This shared experience fostered empathy, connection, and support among the Church members and nonmembers, and created an environment where everyone felt valued and understood.
As each of the youth shared his or her testimony, others were inspired to reflect on their own faith and beliefs. The power of personal stories touches hearts and minds and encourages individuals to renew and deepen their commitment to their spiritual path. The young individuals who spoke became beacons of hope and inspiration, guiding others towards a more profound understanding of their faith.
The youth testimony meeting provided a unique opportunity for the rising generation to express themselves, strengthen their voices, and contribute to the growth of their religious community. Self-confidence was fostered and self-expression improved for those bearing testimony. The Apostle Paul expressed to members of the Church that they are “no more strangers and foreigners, but fellow citizens with the saints” (Ephesians 2:19). Such was the case among Latter-day Saint youth at the day of testimony. All were inspired and faith was deepened. The platform provided for the sharing of testimonies resulted in increasing inclusivity and belonging as voices were heard, valued, and celebrated. This special day was an important step toward uplifting and supporting our young members as they navigate their spiritual journey.

My involvement with the building of the Manhattan temple gave me the opportunity to be in the temple quite often prior to the dedication. It was wonderful to sit in the celestial room and be there in perfect silence, without a single sound to be heard coming from the busy New York streets outside. How was it possible that the temple could be so reverently silent when the hustle and bustle of the metropolis was just a few yards away?
The answer was in the construction of the temple. The temple was built within the walls of an existing building, and the inner walls of the temple were connected to the outer walls at only a very few junction points. That is how the temple (Zion) limited the effects of Babylon, or the world outside.
There may be a lesson here for us. We can create the real Zion among us by limiting the extent to which Babylon will influence our lives.

I remember loading up our children in a station wagon and driving to Los Angeles. There were at least nine of us in the car, and we would invariably get lost. Instead of getting angry, we laughed. Every time we made a wrong turn, we laughed harder.

Melanie Gapiz of the Pasay First Ward, Pasay Philippines Stake, has firsthand knowledge of this principle. The daughter of Elder Ruben G. Gapiz, an Area Authority Seventy, Melanie is a successful freelance producer of television commercials. For several years she worked as head of the production department for a prominent television commercial production company in Manila. In that position she faced a difficult dilemma when she found out some employees were embezzling. “I discovered some irregularities involving some of the employees,” she says. “People were making money unethically within the company.”
She talked with her immediate boss and learned he was part of it. “So I went to the president. He wasn’t involved, but he somehow knew what was going on, and he couldn’t have cared less,” she says. This reaction left Melanie with a dilemma. She could turn her back and pretend the problem did not exist. But she knew if she kept working there, people might think she too was involved. “It was difficult,” she admits, “because I was earning monthly compensation and benefits.” But she knew what she had to do. After counseling with her parents—who reminded her of Church standards but told her it was her decision—she left the company and began working freelance.
“I left on good terms,” she explains. “Actually, when I talked with the president, he told me he admired my principles, but he couldn’t feed his people with principles.” She has never regretted her decision, and the Lord has blessed her in her work.
“I’ve always believed in the gospel of Jesus Christ,” says Sister Gapiz. “The law of tithing has helped me a lot. Fasting and prayer have helped. Every time there’s an important decision to make, I fast and pray about it, and I receive help.”

Tucked away in the Uintah Basin of eastern Utah are several small communities. Jedadiah lives in one of these friendly towns. He is a handsome, blond 11-year-old. Jeddy loves academics and is extremely interested in sports. He is excited to soon be eligible to receive the Aaronic Priesthood. Jeddy’s body cannot do the many things that he would like it to do. The cystic fibrosis that exists in his lungs makes breathing rather difficult.

Amanda, Jeddy’s big sister, is a lovely 16-year-old who displays her love for him in a host of ways. She is a source of comfort when times are difficult. She is his link to school, seeing that assignments are brought home daily. A neighbor said, “Amanda is a real heroine in her family.” She understands the significance of “go, and do thou likewise.” Jeddy only travels to Salt Lake City to go to the hospital. For a special reason he is looking forward to October general conference. It is a family tradition that Grandfather takes his grandsons to Salt Lake for general conference following their 12th birthday. Jeddy can hardly wait; neither can Grandpa.

In standing up for Church standards, sometimes it’s possible to turn opponents into allies. When she started at her school, Carina Schultes was bullied and put down by others. “They couldn’t accept that I had my religion, my standards, that I didn’t smoke, didn’t drink alcohol. At first they couldn’t cope with it, but luckily after four years they accepted it so they thought it was really cool and really supported me and got others to leave me alone.”

I once stood before the bier of a young man whose life had been bright with hope and promise. He had been an athlete in his high school and a student for one year at Brigham Young University. He was a friendly, affable, brilliant young man. He had gone into the mission field. He and his companion were riding down the highway when a car, coming from the opposite direction, moved into their lane and crashed head-on into them. He died in the hospital an hour later. As I stood there at the pulpit at his funeral and looked into the faces of his father and his mother, there came into my heart a conviction that I had never before felt with such assurance. I knew with certainty, as I looked across that casket, that he had not died but had merely been transferred to another field of labor to go forward with his mission so well begun here.

Fortunate to grow up in a home that prioritized scripture reading, Mary Ann Angell (1803–82) gained a fondness for reading the Bible, especially the teachings of the Savior, at an early age.1 She developed a firm foundation in religious principles through her scripture study and teachings from her mother, Phebe Morton Angell. As a girl, Mary Ann once asked her mother about the similarities in the accounts of Christ’s ministry, death, and Resurrection in the New Testament books of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. Phebe explained that the testimony of three or four witnesses showed the truthfulness of Jesus Christ’s mission.2 Through her mother’s example, Mary Ann learned that she could hear the Lord’s voice through the scriptures and find solace in His teachings.

We also learned that people “hear” the Holy Ghost in a variety of ways. I was teaching a Sunday School lesson to relatively new converts, and I asked the question, “How do you feel the Spirit?” Their answers were very enlightening. One said, “I feel clarity in my thoughts.” Another said, “I have a warm feeling inside,” while another shared, “I feel a deep sense of peace.” A woman who had been a member for a few months said, “I feel prickles all over!” And several stated that they occasionally would “hear” a voice speaking to them or that new ideas would come to them.

“Yippee!” Andrew yelled when he saw the batch of cookie dough that his mother was putting into the refrigerator. “That means that tomorrow is ‘Cookie Sunday!’”
“Yes,” replied his mother. “Do you remember what you must do to earn these cookies?”
“I remember. I just need to tell you one thing that I learned in sacrament meeting. That’s easy.”
“You’re right, Andrew. It’s too easy for a big boy like you. This time I want you to tell me three things that you learned.”
“Three!” Andrew took a closer look at the cookie dough. “Is it chocolate chip?”
His mother nodded. “You know, Andrew, listening longer will help you be reverent longer too.”
When the bishop stood up at church after the sacrament had been passed the next day, Andrew forgot to listen. He was busy looking at his favorite book about Jesus. He especially liked the picture of Jesus with the children. He liked to imagine that he was one of those children and that Jesus was smiling at him.
Mother tapped Andrew on the arm as the first speaker stood up. It was Samuel Jenkins, a friend of Andrew’s big brother. Andrew liked Samuel because he sometimes let Andrew play with his basketball. He gave Samuel a big smile, and Samuel smiled back! Then he started his talk. Andrew listened hard. Samuel said that he was saving his money to go on a mission. I’m saving my money, too, Andrew thought. He had a bank that had a place for his tithing, his missionary savings, and his spending money. He was saving his spending money to buy a red fire engine just like the one Toby had. Where is Toby today? he wondered. Andrew saw Toby’s dad and baby brother sitting in front of them, but Toby wasn’t there. Toby was his best friend, and he had taught Andrew how to tie his shoes. Andrew was leaning down to see if his shoes needed tying, when his mother tapped him on the back. Oh—oh, thought Andrew, I’m not listening any more.
Andrew looked up just in time to see Samuel sit down and another man take his place. The man’s name was Jethro Williams. He and his family had just moved into the ward. Andrew thought that Brother Williams had kind eyes. Brother Williams was introducing his family, so Andrew turned around to locate them. He didn’t see any boys his age in the family, but there was a little girl with pigtails. Andrew also looked around for Toby, but he didn’t see him. He did see his friend Jacob, though, and gave him a little wave. Andrew felt his mother’s hand on his shoulder, so he quietly turned around and saw Brother Williams opening his scriptures.
One day I’ll have my own scriptures too, Andrew daydreamed. My scriptures will be black like Dad’s, with gold pages that whisper when you turn them. He leaned over and saw that a lot of words in Dad’s scriptures had red-pencil lines under them. That meant that the words were extra special.
Brother Williams was reading something about the Lamanites, so Andrew opened his Book of Mormon Storybook and turned to his favorite story about Samuel the Lamanite. He was still busy looking at the pictures when he heard the organ start to play. Is the meeting over already? Andrew wondered. No, it’s just a rest hymn, he decided as the congregation sang “The Spirit of God.” Andrew sang especially loud on the chorus. In Primary the chorister had said that when the children sang the chorus, they sounded like angels.
After the song, Sister Williams stood up. She had a soft voice that reminded Andrew of his Primary teacher. His Primary teacher often said, “Bless your heart.” Andrew listened hard to hear if Sister Williams would say that, too, but she didn’t. Instead she said another word a lot. She said, “thankful.” Andrew listened, and he counted on his fingers that she said it five times! She really is thankful. Andrew thought.
Then Sister Williams began to cry a little. Andrew used to feel funny when grown-ups cried in church, but his mother told him that people sometimes cry when they feel very happy inside because of their blessings. Andrew decided to count his own blessings. He thought of his new bike that he was learning to ride and of his pet gerbil, Blacky. Then he thought of Amanda, his baby sister, who was asleep on Dad’s lap. Andrew was reaching over to pat Amanda’s curly head when the organ began to play again. The meeting was almost over! This time it was a hymn that Andrew didn’t know, but he helped hold the book for his mother and hummed softly.
After dinner that afternoon, Andrew’s mother got out the bowl of cookie dough. “Well, Andrew,” she said, “Tell me what you learned today.”
Andrew thought hard. “Samuel Jenkins talked about saving for his mission. He told me that when he goes on his mission, he’ll give me his basketball! Isn’t that great?” Mother nodded. “Yes, that’s great. And I’m glad that you were listening when he talked about being a missionary. What else did you learn?”
“I learned that we have a new girl named Sarah Williams in our Primary class. Her father had her stand up in sacrament meeting. In Primary I found out that she likes chocolate chip cookies, just like me!”
Mother smiled. “OK, Andrew. That counts. Shall we take her some cookies to share with her family today?”
“OK, Mom.” Andrew’s eyes lit up. “And could we take some to Toby too? He wasn’t at church today because he’s sick.”
“That’s a good idea,” said Mother. “But first you need to tell me one more thing that you learned today.”
Andrew spoke slowly, “Well, Sister Williams was thankful for five things, and in church I could only think of three things that I was thankful for. But now I’ve thought of two more.”
“What are they?”
“I’m thankful for all my friends and for chocolate chip cookies to share with them!”

Even though I had been to church only a few times, my home teacher faithfully visited me. One night he called and asked if I would share some thoughts about eternal families in the next Gospel Principles class.
“Yes, I’d love to,” I said.
I didn’t think much of it until the next morning. That’s when I realized I had agreed to talk about eternal families to a group of people who probably already knew all about it. I didn’t have a clue what I could say to them.
Over the years, I had made choices that separated me from the gospel. How was I supposed to share my thoughts about something I wasn’t sure I even believed? I felt confused. Then the words to the hymn “I Am a Child of God” (Hymns, no. 301) came to my mind. I had not heard those words in years, but I knew them by heart. Then it struck me: I needed to ask God if I actually was His child.
At that time, I was rearranging the furniture in my bedroom, so with my bed askew in the middle of the room, I kneeled next to it and waited for the words to come. What could I possibly say to God? I wasn’t sure He even existed. In that moment, my heart’s deepest desire brought these simple words to my lips: “God, are You really there? And if You are there, am I Your child?”
The answer came immediately. It was as if He had been waiting for me to ask. I felt God say, “Yes, Camille, I am here, and you are my child.”
When I opened my eyes, I was still in my disheveled bedroom. Everything around me was in disarray, but I felt like my life had been put in perfect order. I knew that I was a child of God, and that was all that mattered.
In class on Sunday, I simply told my story of how I came to know that I am a child of God. “If I am His child,” I said, “then so is everyone else.”
It took another three and a half years for me to make all the positive changes I needed to make, but my life has never been the same. Since that day, I have never doubted who I am. I know that Heavenly Father is always there. He loves me because I am His child.

I didn’t know as much about fasting when I was seven as I do now that I’m eight. Oh, I knew what fasting was, but I didn’t really understand what it meant until one day when my parents called a family meeting.
“Grandma will be having surgery, and she needs our help,” Mom explained. “Your aunts and uncles and all of your cousins who are old enough will join us in a special fast.”
“A fast!” I gasped.
I love Grandma and really wanted to help her, but I’m a growing boy. Eating is one of my favorite things to do. It’s hard for me to go without food for two minutes, so I didn’t know if I could go without two whole meals! Couldn’t I send Grandma a get-well card or visit her at the hospital? I would even weed her garden. That would be as good as fasting, wouldn’t it?
“Who would like to join our fast?” Mom asked.
Both of my sisters raised their hands. “Sure,” I thought, “it’s easier for them. They have more practice.” Of course Mom and Dad would fast, too. They’ve been fasting for so long they’re practically experts. My brother wouldn’t have to fast because he’s only two.
“When would we start?” I asked.
“Tomorrow night,” Dad replied. “Grandma’s surgery is scheduled for the next morning. We’ll close our fast at dinner that night.”
I thought carefully. Watching all my classmates go to lunch without me would be tough.
Then I remembered some of the great things Grandma does for me. She always gives me treats from her cookie jar. She gives the best hugs, and she prays for me. Swallowing hard, I raised my hand.
“Good,” Mom said with a smile. “I’m glad you’re all willing.”
Before we started our fast the next evening, my family gathered for prayer and asked Heavenly Father to bless Grandma.
For a while after dinner I was fine, especially if I didn’t look at the food in our pantry. But after a couple of hours, my stomach started to grumble. I grumbled, too.
“Dad, I don’t think I can wait until tomorrow to eat,” I moaned.
Dad is pretty smart. He says things in a way I can understand.
“Son, I know it’s difficult for a boy like you to fast,” Dad said. “But Heavenly Father has told us that fasting is a good way to receive extra help. We hope that if we show faith in Him by fasting and praying, He’ll bless Grandma to have a successful surgery and get well. Do you think you can try something for me?”
“If I have the strength,” I mumbled.
“Whenever you feel hungry, think of the reasons you’re fasting. Remember Grandma. If you do, I believe you’ll be able to make it to the end of the fast.”
The next day I tried what Dad said. Every time my stomach growled, I thought about Grandma and how much I wanted Heavenly Father to bless her. It wasn’t easy, but I made it all the way to the end, just like my dad said. Even though I was hungry, I felt good inside.
Everything worked out OK. Grandma is better, and she still has treats for me in her cookie jar. After her surgery, people did lots of things to help her get better, like bringing her dinner and stopping by to visit. I even made her a get-well card. But in my heart I know that nothing helped as much as fasting for Grandma.

Craig Symes was just another locker-room attendant at the health spa I went to when my wife Sue and I lived in St. Petersburg, Florida. He looked like your average 16-year-old—average height, average brown hair. He had the typical teenager’s souped-up car and a nice girlfriend. But while he seemed like an average teenager in many respects, as I got to know him, I found that he was anything but average. And my relationship with him didn’t turn out to be quite what I expected.

There was something about Craig’s eyes and his smile that attracted people. I noticed how friendly and polite he was to everyone and that he never cursed. He always seemed to go out of his way to help people. I was attracted by his genuineness. We talked in the locker room about cars, his girlfriend, sports, our families, and religion. Here was an area where Craig wasn’t average. He wasn’t afraid to talk about religion as many people are.

One day we were discussing the importance of families, and I told him about the death of my father when I was 21. Craig told me a little about eternal life, which made sense to me because I had always hoped to be able to see my father again. I was surprised by Craig’s knowledge of religion and his willingness to talk about it.

I wanted my wife to get to know Craig, so I invited him to dinner. “If I go to your house for dinner will you come to church with me?” he asked. My wife and I were devout members of another faith, but I thought I’d accept his friendly gesture.

Two weeks later on a rainy Sunday morning, I attended church with Craig. I didn’t know anything about the LDS church at that time. Craig introduced me to a lot of “brothers” and to two missionaries who sat next to me during the meeting. The friendliness and warmth of those at the meeting made me feel comfortable. Many introduced themselves and welcomed me there. The lesson was on eternal life. I was impressed that the lesson was taught on a basic principle that I could follow.

Afterward we went to my house and had breakfast with Sue. We visited awhile and then Craig left. The rest of the day was a pretty average Sunday—the last one we’d have for quite a while. That evening the missionaries called and wanted to know when they could come by and share a special message about the Church with Sue and me. I asked them to come by on Tuesday evening.

When I hung up, Sue wanted to know what was going on. I told her that the missionaries were going to come visit us, and she was not very excited. But Tuesday, when she answered the door and let Elders Zaugg and Lewis in, along with Craig and his friend Steve, a good feeling came over her and she wanted to listen to what they had to say.

The missionaries taught us about Joseph Smith and the Book of Mormon. We asked so many questions that the first discussion lasted four hours. We were interested in hearing more and set a date for another discussion. Craig and his friend Steve always came with the missionaries and joined in our discussions.

I still wanted to get to know Craig better, so a few days later as I was getting ready to leave the spa, I asked him to play tennis with me one morning. He said he couldn’t play in the mornings because he had seminary meetings at 5 A.M. I asked him what seminary was and he explained. I said, “Oh, you have to go.” He said, “No, I want to go.”

I wanted to know what made a class so interesting that a 16-year-old would get up at 4:30 in the morning to get there on time. It intrigued me that Craig would make such an effort to learn about the gospel of Jesus Christ. So I started going to seminary with him.

The seminary teacher wasn’t afraid to let a 28-year-old man get involved with the class right from the beginning. The first day I joined in the scripture chase, although I didn’t have any idea where the book of Alma was. By my second visit I knew most of the students by name. I started attending seminary with Craig every day. More than just learning, I was receiving of their great spirit. I couldn’t believe that youth were so excited about church. I caught their enthusiasm.

Sue and I continued our discussions with the missionaries, and six weeks later we decided to be baptized. Our families were against the decision. We received a letter from my brother trying to dissuade us. The local officials of the church we had attended called us, and my mother also called 15 minutes before we left for our baptism. But we were committed to our decision. We knew it was the right thing for us to do. Craig baptized us.

I am grateful that a 16-year-old member of the Church caught the vision of “every member a missionary.” Craig brought happiness and joy into our lives, mostly by setting a proper example among both his friends and those that came in contact with him. He wasn’t afraid to let others know that he is a member of the Church of Jesus Christ. He wasn’t afraid to be more than average and just a little out of the ordinary.

Take, for example, my recent life transition—marriage.
Getting married in the temple is important to Heavenly Father’s plan. And I always thought that once the opportunity was on the horizon, I would feel nothing but contentment and peace.
For me, that wasn’t the case.
I never thought that something so good could be so utterly terrifying. I felt guilty about feeling anxious over the beautiful relationship between me and my future spouse. Of course I wanted to marry this wonderful man, so why in the world was I so hesitant and scared? I was beyond frustrated at how hard making the decision was for me.
I prayed, read scriptures, fasted, and attended the temple over and over again to find guidance. Eventually, I made the decision to move forward with marriage and asked Heavenly Father if it was right. And I felt a peaceful and unquestionable certainty many times that it was. But eventually, my brain’s defense mechanism against change, along with the adversary, would once again try to convince me otherwise.
It was exhausting, to say the least.
But as difficult as this back-and-forth process was, and as much as I pleaded for my fear of change to go away, I learned some valuable lessons.
When you’re on the brink of something good in your life, when you’ve gotten your answer and you’re ready to take a leap of faith, Satan will try to step in and prevent it.
He does this to me often.
He plants doubts that make me question the answers I’ve received. He makes me consider how safe I’ll remain if don’t move forward. And he tries to convince me that the good decisions that will reshape my life and help me grow are not worth it, that they’re too much for me, and that I will fail. Ultimately, he tries to keep me stuck.
In these dark moments when I’ve felt overwhelmed and intense terror about the future, the words of Elder Jeffrey R. Holland of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles have always helped me cling to the light and carry on: “With any major decision there are cautions and considerations to make, but once there has been illumination, beware the temptation to retreat from a good thing. If it was right when you prayed about it and trusted it and lived for it, it is right now. Don’t give up when the pressure mounts. … Face your doubts. Master your fears. ‘Cast not away therefore your confidence.’ Stay the course and see the beauty of life unfold for you.”1
In a priesthood blessing I received to help me overcome my fear of marriage, I was told that Heavenly Father wants me to be confident in myself and my decisions, and also in the answers He has given me (see Doctrine and Covenants 6:22–23). I was told to not doubt that those answers were from the Spirit and to be willing to move forward with faith instead of being held back by fear.
Those words helped me finally realize that if we want God to guide us, we have to be willing to trust Him.
I’ve always had faith in the Savior’s transformative and healing power. But I never in my life thought that I would have to rely on Him to help me have courage to do something good. My feelings of inadequacy about marriage seemed much too unimportant for Him to heal. However, now I know that His healing power truly applies to all things. He is aware of our needs and feelings, and He can deliver us from all our weaknesses or fears. He can change our hearts. I have felt Him increase my willingness to move toward the good life changes He wants me to experience.
As much as I’ve always avoided change, I’ve realized that when Heavenly Father asks us to do something, even if it terrifies us, He will always enable us to be successful. By myself, I might be capable of some things. But with Him on my side, I can truly do all things (see Alma 26:12).
After long wrestles with Him and so many moments where I chose faith even while feeling the strong pull to remain in my comfort zone, I’ve finally been sealed in the temple to my dear husband—my best friend. I know without the Savior’s help and without trust in God, I couldn’t have gotten to this point. And I know They will continue to guide me one step at a time throughout this new journey with my sweet husband.

First, how can we teach our families to sacrifice? My grandfather Isaac Jacob was a great example to me. Grandpa was a sheep rancher who sent four sons on missions. During the Depression, it became my mother’s opportunity to serve, and she received her call to Canada.

Grandpa’s situation became critical when he was called in by his bank and asked just what was the $50 a month going out for Mom’s mission. He had taken out a loan and was paying a high rate of 12 percent interest. The bankers were not satisfied and told him to bring Mom home from her mission.

The following day Grandpa gave his answer: “If that girl comes home, the sheep are yours—and I’ll bring them right up to your door.” This caught the bankers by surprise. They were already using Grandpa to care for other sheep outfits which they had acquired, and they would have no one else to take care of all those sheep. Mom completed her mission, and Grandpa’s example taught his family the importance of sacrifice.

Joseph Smith was born on December 23. Have you ever wondered what his life was like when he was very young? Some children went to the place where Joseph Smith’s home was in Vermont to find out.
They got to see stone fences that Joseph’s father and uncles built. These fences kept the cows on their land. In the meadow are some apple trees, like the ones the Smiths would have grown to make apple cider, applesauce, and pie.
The children helped archaeologists dig for clues! They uncovered what was left of the Smiths’ small log home. They sifted through the dirt and found plates, bowls, and even a fork!

Another type of apology is the “action apology”—saying “I’m sorry” through something we do. The next time Pete and Janet had a disagreement, he sent her one white rose. Words weren’t necessary with that kind of an “I’m sorry.” The action apology can be fun and creative. Baking someone’s favorite cake, or buying a cupcake and placing a little white flag in the middle, or buying a funny item or card will tickle the funny bone. A homemade card like my friend Judy’s can say anything you wish to get the point across. How about a picture of the “temper monster” that bit you, or a picture of a leg because you could “just kick yourself.” Laughter is indeed the best medicine when it comes to injured feelings and can open the door to a more serious apology.

A letter and an old ashtray came to the office of the Presiding Bishop in 1991. The letter reads: “Dear Sir, I stole the enclosed ashtray from your hotel in 1965. After these many years, I want to apologize to you and ask for your forgiveness for my wrongdoing. Sincerely, [signature]. P.S. I have enclosed a check that attempts to reimburse you for the ashtray.”

The check was in the amount of $26.00, one dollar for each year he had kept the ashtray. I can imagine that during those 26 years, each time he tapped his cigarette on the rim of that tray he suffered a twinge of conscience. I do not know that the hotel ever missed the ashtray, but the man who took it missed his peace of mind for more than a quarter of a century. Yes, honesty is the best policy.