Gospel Story Finder

Lakhran Surjdeen, known as Michael, moved to Barbados at age 21, just before the COVID-19 pandemic. Spending an extended period indoors during the pandemic prompted him to embark on a cruise. Each day when he awoke, the thought came to him, “When you go back to Barbados, get baptized.”
Upon his return, Michael turned to Facebook to search for a church where he could be baptized. The church he decided to call was The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. Soon, missionaries reached out to him to arrange an appointment, but before he met with them, he decided to walk to the church to see what it was like. While standing outside the property’s fence and looking at the building, Michael felt the quiet peace that he had been searching for.
The missionaries asked Michael to meet them at the church for his first lesson. He was so eager to be baptized that he asked if he could have that done right away. However, the missionaries helped him understand that he needed to have a few more lessons to strengthen his faith in and commitment to Jesus Christ before he could be baptized. Finally, the day came that he had been waiting for: Michael was going to be baptized. Even though this was his wish, he was very nervous; he could feel his heart beating quickly. He walked to the font, all dressed in white, and as soon as his toe touched the water, Michael felt completely calm; he felt as light as a white feather.
When Michael returned home, he felt happy inside. He felt like he was glowing, but as soon as he walked into his home, his tears began flowing. Michael knew that his Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ were happy for the big decision he had made on his own.
These days, Michael looks forward to church each week to renew the covenant with Jesus Christ he made at baptism. He knows that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints has the restored and living gospel. He still finds peace when he attends church and loves to share the message of the gospel so that others can feel the love that he feels.

The joys and blessings of serving a full-time mission are so personally sacred, they are hard to express adequately. Thirty-five years after I served my first mission, I received a letter from a family whom I had taught but did not baptize. The letter shared that their family of four little children, whom I once knew, now consisted of four temple marriages, three full-time missionaries, three bishops, a Relief Society president, and a dozen grandchildren maturing and developing in the gospel. You can well imagine the thrill and joy I received knowing that I had helped to find them and to teach them the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Several years ago, while attending meetings in Salt Lake City, I was greeted by our dear prophet, Russell M. Nelson. In his typically warm and personal way, he asked, “Mark, how is your mum doing?”
I told him I had been with her earlier that week at her home in New Zealand and that she was getting old but was full of faith and an inspiration to all who knew her.
He then said, “Please give her my love … and tell her I look forward to seeing her again.”
I was rather surprised and asked, “Do you have a trip planned to New Zealand soon?”
With thoughtful sincerity he replied, “Oh no, I will see her in the next life.”
There was nothing frivolous in his response. It was a perfectly natural expression of fact. In that private, unguarded moment, I heard and felt pure testimony from a living prophet that life continues after death.

As exciting as “Welcome to the Valley” was, it wasn’t the end of the trek experience—not really. In many ways, the trek started friendships with neighbors and community members who had watched the youth over the last 72 hours or heard about the trek through local news coverage.
Anna Parker had an opportunity to connect with neighbors as she and her peers passed through one community. Anna immediately noticed that some of the women there were on horseback, so she told them how much she loved horses. She also explained to them what the youth group was doing and then invited the women to join the youth that night for country dancing. One of them came and even stayed for a short devotional afterward. She was so impressed by the youth that she asked to learn more.

I hope I don't embarrass myself too much by telling you how I tried to apply this counsel. My approach was to organize what I called my "date a million program." I would try to meet and get to know as many young women as I could. I asked people to line me up with their friends and relatives somewhat like the member referral approach I took as a missionary in Peru and Ecuador. I then created a progressing friends list containing at least six promising "friends" whom I would see more frequently but whom I couldn't see twice in a row so that I didn't prematurely focus on one person and become too romantically involved before I had formed a good friendship. I had around two to four dates a week during this time but most of the dates were to things I already was doing: going to a devotional and then stopping by the Cougareat for a treat, going to a church fireside, attending a lecture or film on campus, etc. I met some wonderful young women and tried to be their friend rather than to court them. I also developed a good list of six progressing friends that I began to spend more time with.

However, my program almost kept me from following my feelings about Margaret Allred. She was so easy to talk to and such a good friend that I found myself wanting to spend more time with her. But I would then lecture myself that I was supposed to let friendship develop and consider many possibilities rather than narrow my search prematurely. Fortunately, as I got up to recapture my testimony one morning and prayed about my progressing friends list, the Lord helped me to see that Margaret was a wonderful person with whom I could build an eternal relationship. He helped me overlook some of the little flaws I saw when I was comparing my progressing friends. I think I was doing what I see some young men and women I know doing now. They approach selecting a companion as though they were a consumer looking for the best product. The Lord helped me see that Margaret would also have to overlook or work with my flaws, perhaps chief among them that I was a perfectionistic romantic. His love for her and for me and his reassurance that this relationship was worth pursuing was a revelation to me at the time.

By the way, at this same time Margaret was following a process very similar to grandfather's counsel. She had been going on dates with a number of different young men but she was clear sooner than I was about feeling that our relationship could be eternal. However, then as now it was harder for young women to initiate dating. Somehow she found out my schedule and I began to be surprised that we just happened to "bump into each other" at many class breaks. She learned that I was majoring in Spanish and decided to take beginning Spanish. She also joined a student government committee that I was also working on. No wonder I came to feel Margaret was such a good friend with whom I could talk so easily!

When Richard Moyer lost his job, he and his family ate food from their home storage, paid bills using their savings, and continued to pay tithing faithfully. Despite his unemployment, Brother Moyer was amazed to see that he made exactly U.S. $1.00 more income that year than the previous one. “I have always attributed that miracle in our lives to paying tithing,” Brother Moyer explains. “The Lord always blesses you when you do the things He wants you to do.”
President N. Eldon Tanner (1898–1982) of the First Presidency taught that tithing is a commandment with a promise: “As you discharge this obligation to your Maker, you will find great, great happiness, the like of which is known only by those who are faithful to this commandment.”2 Obedience to this commandment brings peace and security. As Church members pay tithes and offerings they will experience miracles in their lives, as the Moyer family did.

Our missionaries serving throughout the world are beautiful examples of those who are truly ambitious for Christ. A few years ago, Sister Yamashita and I served in the Japan Nagoya Mission. Our missionaries were so ambitious for Christ. One of those missionaries was a young man named Elder Cowan.

Elder Cowan did not have a right leg because of a bicycle accident as a youth. A few weeks after he entered the mission, I received a phone call from his companion. Elder Cowan’s prosthetic leg had broken while he was riding his bike. We took him to a good repair facility, and there in a private room, I saw his leg for the first time. I realized how much pain he had been suffering. His prosthetic leg was repaired, and he returned to his area.

However, as the weeks went by, the prosthesis continued to break again and again. The area medical adviser recommended that Elder Cowan return home for a possible mission reassignment. I resisted this advice because Elder Cowan was a great missionary and he had a strong desire to remain in Japan. Gradually, though, Elder Cowan began to approach his physical limit. In spite of this, he did not murmur or complain.

Again, I was advised that Elder Cowan be allowed to serve in a place that did not require him to ride a bike. I pondered this situation. I thought about Elder Cowan and his future, and I prayed about the matter. I felt impressed that, yes, Elder Cowan should return home and await reassignment. I phoned him and expressed my love and concern and told him of my decision. He did not say anything in reply. I could only hear him weeping on the other end of the phone. I said, “Elder Cowan, you don’t have to answer me right now. I will call you tomorrow. Please consider my recommendation with sincere prayer.”

When I called him the next morning, he humbly said he would follow my counsel.

During my final interview with him, I asked him this question: “Elder Cowan, did you request on your missionary application to be sent to a mission where you would not have to ride a bike?”
He said, “Yes, President, I did.”
I responded, “Elder Cowan, you were called to the Japan Nagoya Mission, where you would have to ride a bike. Did you tell this to your stake president?”
I was surprised by his answer. He said, “No, I didn’t. I determined that if that is where the Lord called me, I would go to the gym and train my body to be able to ride a bike.”
At the conclusion of our interview, he asked me this question with tears in his eyes: “President Yamashita, why did I come to Japan? Why am I here?”
I answered him without hesitation: “Elder Cowan, I know one reason you came here. You came here for my benefit. I have come to understand what a great young man I have been serving with. I am blessed to know you.”

I am happy to report that Elder Cowan returned to his loving home and was reassigned to serve in a mission where he could use a car for his travel. I am proud not only of Elder Cowan but also of all the missionaries throughout the world who serve willingly without murmuring or complaining. Thank you, elders and sisters, for your faith, your focus, and your strong ambition for Christ.

A couple of years ago, my grandson Christian was turning eight and planning his baptismal service with great anticipation. He asked his mother if I could be one of the speakers and share my conversion story. When I asked him why he wanted me to do that, he replied, “Grandma, that is so important. Do you realize that if you hadn’t accepted the gospel, I wouldn’t be getting baptized? I wouldn’t even be who I am.”

I don’t know if missionaries realize the far-reaching impact of their work. In my own family, the blessings of the gospel have now touched four generations. Didn’t President Gordon B. Hinckley say that “when we save a girl, we save generations”? I got married in the temple and have eight children. They are all faithful members of the Church, endowed in the temple. Six of them are now married and have their own children. At present there are 34 of us. And that is not all. Both my husband and I served missions, and our two sons and three of our six daughters have also served missions. Collectively we have helped hundreds embrace the gospel in many countries. Some of those converts and their children have also served missions.

Missionary work is the lifeblood of the Church. There is no greater work, no more important work. It blesses the lives of all those who participate in it. It will continue blessing future generations.

Mika always looked forward to dance class. She loved listening to the music. She loved practicing her butterfly skip and getting it just right. And she especially loved it when the whole class moved together. When they did that, it was like the dancers were all the same. It felt like she wasn’t the only one with Down syndrome.
Today they were learning a new dance step. Mika watched her teacher leap into the air. She watched the other girls try. Some figured it out right away. Mika tried over and over, but she just couldn’t get it right yet.
“Will you help me, teacher?” Mika asked.
The girl next to her looked at Mika. Then she leaned over to her friend. “Why does she talk like that?” she whispered. Both girls turned and looked at Mika.
On the way home from class, Mika was quiet the whole way.
When they got home, Mom was kneading dough in the kitchen. She had flour on her cheek. Sometimes that made Mika laugh. But today she just dropped her bag to the floor and sank into a chair at the table.
“How was dance?” Mom asked.
“Terrible,” Mika said. “I asked for help, and a girl said I talk funny. Then she stared at me.” Mika looked down. “I don’t want to go to dance anymore.”
“Oh, Mika!” Mom said. “I’m so sorry. Dad and I love watching you dance. We’re so proud of how hard you work!”
Mika felt tears starting to come. “I don’t like the Down syndrome in me. I don’t like that my face is different. I wish it wasn’t so hard for me to learn new things. I even have to practice talking!”
Dad sat down by Mika and put his arm around her. “Mika, we love you so much. We wouldn’t change one thing about you.”
But Mika just shook her head and buried her face in her arms. “I don’t want to be different. I want my Down syndrome to be taken out of me!”
Mom and Dad were quiet for a few moments.
“I have an idea,” Mom said. Mika peeked out over her arms. “Why don’t you pray and ask Heavenly Father how He feels about you?”
Mika thought about that. She liked saying prayers. Slowly, she nodded. “Can you write down the question so I’ll remember what to ask?”
Mom wrote the question down. Then Mika took the paper and went to her room to pray.
When she came into the kitchen a few minutes later, Mika’s face was lit up like a light bulb. “Heavenly Father answered!” she said.
“What did He say?” Mom asked.
“He said, ‘Mika, I love you just the way you are,’” she said. “And He said it with a LOUD voice!”
The next week at dance, Mika didn’t worry about what the other girls thought about her Down syndrome. Instead, she noticed another girl, Sara, who looked sad. Sara was having a hard time learning some of the new moves too.
When Mika got home, she decided to write a note to Sara. She drew lots of hearts. Mom helped her with the spelling.
“Dear Sara,” Mika wrote. “You’re a great dancer. I want to be your friend. I am happy you are in my dance class.”
Mika couldn’t wait to give Sara the note. She wanted Sara to feel happy and loved at dance too.

I had great pleasure in training a well-bred colt. He had a good disposition, clean, well-rounded eye, was well proportioned, and all in all, a choice animal. Under the saddle he was as willing, responsive, and cooperative as a horse could be. He and my dog, Scotty, were real companions. I liked the way he would go up to something of which he was afraid. He had confidence that if he would do as I bade him he would not be injured.

But my horse Dandy resented restraint. He was ill-contented when tied and would nibble at the tie rope until he was free. He would not run away; he just wanted to be free. Thinking other horses felt the same, he would proceed to untie their ropes. He hated to be confined in the pasture, and if he could find a place in the fence where there was only smooth wire, he would paw the wire carefully with his feet until he could step over to freedom. More than once my neighbors were kind enough to put him back in the field. He learned even to push open the gate. Though he often did damage that was provoking and sometimes expensive, I admired his ingenuity.

But his curiosity and desire to explore the neighborhood led him and me into trouble. Once on the highway he was hit by an automobile, resulting in a demolished machine, injury to the horse, and slight, though not serious, injury to the driver. Recovering from that, and still impelled by a feeling of wanderlust, he inspected the fence throughout the entire boundary. He even found the gates wired. So for a while we thought we had Dandy secure in the pasture.

One day, however, somebody left the gate unwired. Detecting this, Dandy unlatched it, took another horse with him, and together they visited the neighbor’s field. They went to an old house used for storage. Dandy’s curiosity prompted him to push open the door. There was a sack of grain. What a find! Yes, and what a tragedy! The grain was poisoned bait for rodents! In a few minutes Dandy and the other horse were in spasmodic pain, and shortly both were dead.

Three Christmas trees stand out in the memory of Elder Gary B. Sabin.
The first was a beautiful Christmas tree of his youth. When Gary scaled the tree trying to reach a candy cane, the entire tree crashed to the ground.
The second was an evergreen branch he found as a missionary while serving in Belgium and the Netherlands from 1973 to 1975. Elder Sabin and his companion took the branch home to their apartment and propped it up around the Christmas cards they had received from home.
The third was a tree made of Christmas lights strung on the IV stand next to his daughter’s hospital bed. One of three Sabin children to suffer from cystic fibrosis, his daughter had received a double-lung transplant one year after the death of her brother from the same disease.
“We have learned a lot more from our children than they have learned from us,” says Elder Sabin.
As a General Authority he will remember the Christmas trees and the lessons he learned from them. Each tree highlights portions of his journey—from a young boy wanting a candy cane to a missionary teaching the plan of salvation to a father who relied on the plan and the Savior’s love to sustain his family through mortal trials.

“I met a prophet once,” I told my friend. “He was a highly respected businessman, a wonderful husband and father, a devoted citizen. Even though I wa a child when I met him, I knew that he was a true prophet of God.”
The place was Hamburg, Germany—the year, 1937. President Heber J. Grant was touring the European missions. The branch of the Church to which my family belonged met in a rented hall in a soap factory, squeezed into a back alley of a thickly populated industrial district. Here people from all the northern and western districts of Germany had assembled to see and hear the prophet speak.
A gifted poet in our branch had written a long poem for the occasion, and I had been chosen to greet President Grant and recite it. The night before the prophet’s visit, my mother came to my room to say good night. “Tomorrow you will shake hands with a prophet of God,” she said. “What a great privilege that is! I am sure it is because of your faith that you have been asked.”
I was glad it was dark in my room so my mother could not notice my despair. The minute she left my bedside, I prayed, begging my Heavenly Father to forgive my sins and help me be worthy to meet the prophet. My mother spent half the night at the sewing machine, finishing a lovely new dress for me to wear. Normally, this would have excited me tremendously, but not now. I felt that the prophet would be able to see into my heart, and that he would know of my sins and of how vain I was.
The next day in school seemed like a nightmare. Every time I looked at the big clock on the wall, I panicked about how little time I had left to repent of all my misdeeds! I was very withdrawn, and my school friends thought I was ill. I preferred to let them think that way instead of letting them know my secret.
Finally the hour arrived. After President Grant was welcomed, I was to hand him a large bouquet of long-stemmed roses and then recite the poem with the aid of an interpreter.
The floor beneath me shook as I walked toward President Grant. With each breath, I had been praying. Now there was nothing I could do but go ahead.
When President Grant saw me, he rose from his chair. He seemed as tall as a mountain. His friendly eyes looked deeply into mine as he stretched forth his arms and pulled me toward him. My entire body went numb, and the bouquet dropped to the floor. President Grant bent down to retrieve the roses for me. Then he hugged me and stroked my head, waiting patiently until I was ready to begin.
Suddenly all my fear vanished, and I felt an indescribable happiness. I had always pictured my Father in Heaven as loving, kind, and sensitive, and it was natural that his prophet would have all those qualities that were so dear to me. From then on, I knew that I would always be able to recognize a true prophet—by the love and concern he shows for our Heavenly Father’s children.

The newly converted women in the family did their best to learn the ways of gospel living. A year after baptism, Aunt Kee Hong and my mom learned about the patriarchal blessing and decided to receive it. With their permission, I share that both their blessings talk about sharing the gospel with relatives. My aunt’s blessing particularly mentions doing genealogy work. My aunt hated genealogy work because of my grandpa. Grandpa devoted many years of his life to gathering information and publishing genealogy books with his own money, but this had a negative impact on his children. That was why seeing something about genealogy in Aunt Kee Hong’s patriarchal blessing was displeasure. She wanted to ignore it.

However, she decided to do something about the nagging feeling instead of ignoring it. 13 days after receiving the blessing, she decided to go on a genealogy trip for a week in August 1975. The night before she left, my Catholic great-grandma appeared in my mom’s dream. She was dressed in white clothes and told my mom she was going to her grave site, looking very happy.

My aunt saw many miracles during the trip. For example, she had to go to an island, Ulleungdo, to see relatives there. It was an 11-hour boat ride, and she always had seasickness on a boat, so she was very worried. 30 minutes into the ride, she was so miserable. Then she passed out. She passed out for 11 hours. The sound of the arrival horn woke her up. On the way back, she thought she would get smart and take motion sickness medicine. As soon as she boarded, she took the medicine. If you know motion sickness medicine, she should have taken it 30 minutes before boarding, not when she boarded. Learning that she would soon feel very miserable, she got worried. Then, a man approached her and led her to a room with bunk beds. Her ticket did not include a bed. However, the man told her she could use any bed she wanted and there was no need to pay. She picked one bed, and soon passed out for another 11 hours. It was the mercy of God in a mysterious way that she passed out and had a peaceful journey.

She didn’t have the address or telephone numbers of people she wanted to see. However, during the trip, she got off the bus exactly where she needed to, although there was no bus stop, and she turned into the exact street she needed to without having to walk too far during the hottest time in Korea. She found houses without having a street name or house number. Before leaving on the trip, my aunt made a list of people to see and when to see them. She didn’t tell any of them she was coming to see them, but she saw everybody she planned to see. During the trip, she gathered all the information she needed, even the names of people who died as infants. She then submitted those names to the Church headquarters for temple ordinances to be performed.

Three years later, in 1978, one night, my great-grandma appeared in my mom’s dream again. This time, she kept saying, “Thank you, thank you.” The next day, my mom received a fat envelope from Salt Lake City notifying her that the temple work for all the names Aunt Kee Hong submitted was finished, including my great-grandma’s.

In the last general conference, Elder Carlos A. Godoy told of his personal experience in using his patriarchal blessing to evaluate his goals:

At the end of the 1980s, our young family was made up of my wife, Mônica, two of our four children, and me. We lived in São Paulo, Brazil, I worked for a good company, I had finished my university studies, and I had recently been released as bishop of the ward where we had lived. Life was good, and everything seemed to be as it should be—until one day an old friend came to visit us.
At the conclusion of his visit, he made a comment and asked a question that unsettled my convictions. He said, “Carlos, everything seems to be going well for you, your family, your career, and your service in the Church, but—” and then came the question, “if you continue to live as you are living, will the blessings promised in your patriarchal blessing be fulfilled?” [Godoy, “The Lord Has a Plan for Us!” Ensign, November 2014]

As a result of this question from his friend, Elder Godoy paid attention to his patriarchal blessing and made some necessary changes in his life that would help him realize Heavenly Father’s promised blessings for him.

All this turning began when the Dalton Gardens Ward youth took Malachi’s prophecy to heart and became excited about family history work (see Mal. 4:5–6).
They did this by filling out pedigree charts, having classes on the importance of genealogy, visiting with their ward’s senior citizens, and organizing a ward activity in which they acted out episodes from the lives of the grandparents in their ward family.
And what’s been the outcome of all this excitement? For one thing, the ward’s generation gap has narrowed.
“Now when you go to church, you see a lot of the young people going up to the older people in the ward and saying hi and maybe walking them to class,” says Russell Isaacson, a 16-year-old priest. “Before we might have just walked by them because we didn’t really know them at all, but now we see them as our friends.”

Last summer when I was away from home, a fierce wind and rainstorm blew through our neighborhood. A huge tree had fallen from my neighbor’s yard, filling my yard and knocking down power lines. The tree needed to be removed before the damage could be repaired and power restored to my home.
Early in the morning I called my brother, who planned to find some equipment and come as soon as he could. I also called my bishop. Within minutes my bishop, home teacher, former stake president, and 10 men from my ward were there with their chain saws and made quick work of this disaster. My visiting teachers brought in dinner that evening. Many more men from the high priests group, the elders quorum, and the neighborhood came on subsequent evenings to assist me and my family in cleaning up the mess.
I was needy on that occasion. I needed help from others. My discouragement turned into joy and gratitude. I felt loved and cared for. These people were quick to recognize one in need. They lived their testimony and demonstrated the reality of their covenants.

I had a memorable experience with this principle when I was a student. I always worked hard in school to try to learn and prepare for the future. I knew that in order to leave poverty, I would have to find a career that would open doors to new opportunities in life. I also knew that in order to obtain this type of career, I would have to focus on my education.
As important as education was to me, I made the personal decision to forgo studying on Sundays. As a member of the Church, I knew the Lord had said that the Sabbath is His day, not ours. I tried to make purposeful decisions about what I would do on this special day. However, even after having made this decision, at times I was tempted to bend my own rule, especially when I had a test coming up. I would think, “It’s not bad; it’s just studying. I can go to church in the morning and study in the afternoon and evening.”
But as I remembered the promise I had made that I would remain active and faithful to the counsel of the Lord’s prophets, it was much easier to stick to my decision to not study on Sundays and instead use the Lord’s day for service and worship. I had already decided to remain faithful, so for me it was just a matter of interpreting what the Lord had said about the Sabbath day and applying His counsel as best as I could in my life.
I ended up excelling in my studies and obtaining a good career that helped me provide for my family. I know that because I kept my promise to the Lord, He blessed me to be able to create a better life.

Hadley Peay is now seven years old. Hadley was born with a very serious hearing impairment requiring extensive surgery to bring even limited hearing. Her parents followed with tireless training to help her learn to speak. Hadley and her family have cheerfully adapted to the challenge of her deafness.
Once, when Hadley was four, she was standing in the checkout line at the grocery store with her mother. She looked behind her and saw a little boy sitting in a wheelchair. She noticed that the boy did not have legs.
Although Hadley had learned to speak, she had difficulty controlling the volume of her voice. In her louder voice, she asked her mother why the little boy did not have legs.
Her mother quietly and simply explained to Hadley that “Heavenly Father makes all of His children different.” “OK,” Hadley replied.
Then, unexpectedly, Hadley turned to the little boy and said, “Did you know that when Heavenly Father made me, my ears did not work? That makes me special. He made you with no legs, and that makes you special. When Jesus comes, I will be able to hear and you will get your legs. Jesus will make everything all right.”
Hadley knew enough.

I remember an experience I had on my mission. I was assigned to the mission home and received a call from a missionary newly arrived in the field. He indicated that he wanted to go home right then. The mission president and his wife were unavailable for a few days. I asked the mission secretary to go with me, and we drove down to the little Swiss village where the missionary was stationed. I went tracting with him while the mission secretary went tracting with his senior companion. We tracted farmhouses, and so we had a long time between houses to talk. After talking about missionary work and life in general, the missionary was feeling okay about staying on.

Our conversation turned to him. This missionary was different than most—he was much older because he was a convert. He was converted while he was a soldier in Vietnam, and then he went on a mission after he returned home from the war. He talked about his experiences, and at one point he talked about being on reconnaissance when shots were being fired. He and the soldiers in his patrol dove off the road to avoid the shots, and he heard explosions around him. The Viet Cong had placed land mines around and then used gunfire to get the soldiers to jump off the road. He talked about seeing one of his buddies literally blown apart. He became choked up.

There was silence, and finally I said, “I understand.”

I remember that he looked at me and said, “No, you don’t! There is no way you could understand. You had to be there. You had to feel it to understand.”

And you know, he was right.

Sometimes the Lord makes us go through difficult experiences because there is no other way to understand the truth. Sometimes we have to go through pain to understand pain. But it is the gospel that will provide us with the right attitude and perspective to understand. Without the gospel some people only learn bitterness or anger from these experiences. We have to be “of the truth” to understand the truth. We can have the same experiences, the same facts, but we have to be “of the truth” to understand the truth.

Let me share a few more lessons that we in the Davis family have learned about money. Sister Davis took a terrible chance, and married me--four weeks after I returned from my mission. Yes, we had met before my mission. At the time of our marriage, I had completed only two semesters of college, and it eventually turned out that I had another 12 years of education remaining before I could actually begin practicing as a physician. The only things we really possessed at the time of our marriage were a few wedding presents, a car we had borrowed from her father, some cast-off furniture, and a lot of ignorance. I must admit that we didn't have the first clue about how we were going to pay for all those years of school.

What we didn't learn at first was that we were poor, because we really didn't want much. Sonja worked as a seamstress, at $4.35 per hour, until our first child joined our family 16 months after we were married. After that, she stayed home to be a full-time Mom. That required me to step up to the plate and support our family, and we soon learned that it was a privilege for me to be able to do so.

Most of my medical school classmates had wives that worked, and many were also being helped financially by parents. My parents were willing to help, and did offer to do so. However, we wanted to be independent. I kept telling myself that this was a good idea, even when I saw that my classmates had things like cars that would actually start when the ignition key was turned.

There were months that we wondered how we were going to pay the rent, but we learned that when we were approaching serious financial trouble the Lord blessed us. These blessings took the form of an opportunity for me to work. The first check we always wrote was for our tithing, and everything else worked out. It almost got to the point where we didn't really worry about it. When the figures in our checkbook were hovering at or below zero, I was always able to find work that allowed us to survive.

We learned how to budget, and literally didn't spend a dime that we didn't absolutely have to. From time to time I must admit that I would look at my classmates doing things like buying chocolate bars from vending machines, and rather wistfully wondered what it would be like to be able to do things like that. However, we managed to stick to our budget. I would probably have just become fat if I had indulged a chocolate habit.

We also learned from our families. For instance, we were greatly blessed by the instruction we received from Sonja's father. Many times he taught us that there are only three reasons to borrow money:
It did get to the point that we really needed a car that could handle our growing family, so we did rather reluctantly finance the purchase of one minivan. We enjoyed the car a lot, but those payments were truly miserable.

We did borrow money to get through school, but we learned that when we had to borrow money we did so conservatively, and then paid those debts off as soon as possible. I did worry a lot about being able to repay those educational loans, but they were quickly dwarfed in comparison to the size of the loans I had to take out to get my practice started. Once my practice was up and running, we were greatly blessed. Eventually, all those years of educational debt ended up amounting to be the equivalent of just over three months of practice overhead. I will be eternally grateful that I didn't take our children's mother out of our home for all those years in order to save three months of practice overhead. What at times seemed like a sacrifice while we were in school has turned out to be one of the best decisions we have ever made.