Gospel Story Finder

In October 2019, Abraham returned to the United States. One Sunday, he was teaching a lesson at church. There was a man in the class that got up and went out. Unknown to Abraham, this man was a doctor and had called an ambulance. He recognized that Abraham was exhibiting signs of a stroke. The family is so grateful their father went to church that day and that the doctor was there too. Even though he is currently down with a stroke and uses a wheelchair, he still sees himself as blessed and he’s forever grateful to Heavenly Father.

Children provide some of the best examples of how to administer Christ’s love. After spending a long, hot day at an amusement park with my three nieces (ages six, ten, and eleven), my brother, my husband, and I found ourselves in line for a much-anticipated water ride. As the kids were most excited about this ride—and we did not want to disappoint—we all hopped into the end of the line for what was projected to be a ninety-minute wait.

After fifteen minutes of attempting to keep ourselves and the kids entertained, it was clear that we had lost their attention and that they were bored. Instead of turning to complaining, the kids instinctively turned their attention to the other people in line. It did not take long for my three nieces to make friends with three teenagers who were standing in line right in front of us. Soon all six of them were laughing, talking, and joking together. Even after what had turned into more than two hours of standing in line, the kids never complained because they were focused on someone else.

Without having spent time talking with the teens, we would never have learned that the woman accompanying them was not their mother. The teenagers were with their aunt, who had taken the kids away for a weekend after their mother’s funeral. All three teenagers were now learning what it was like to be orphans.

Gratefully, that day three little girls in a long line at an amusement park showed me how to truly minister to and uplift those around me. How many people who are figuratively in line next to you have “hands [that] hang down” or “feeble knees” that need strengthening? You never know what hardships or difficulties others are experiencing, and you never know the impact your interactions will have on them. Turning your focus to other people can have a healing effect that helps lift burdens and mend broken hearts. But sometimes doing good requires taking off your headphones, putting down your smartphone, and interacting with a huge smile.

Many in the Chyulu area desired to join the Church, but because Chyulu was so isolated, the mission leaders decided to limit membership until sufficient local leadership was developed. Among those who came to church weekly were two men from another village. They rode their bicycles two hours each way. When they requested that they and others be allowed to be baptized, President Brown granted their request on condition that only the two men and their families be baptized. However, since African villages are often made up of large extended families, 40 jubilant converts arrived to be baptized.
Due to a lack of water in Chyulu, arranging for the baptisms was a challenge. President Brown and a missionary couple had made the arduous journey from Nairobi to Chyulu by truck, hauling baptismal clothing and a water storage tank to be used as the baptismal font. In Chyulu local brethren spent five hours pumping and hauling water six kilometers over “the rockiest of roads.” Then brethren knelt in the water around the outside edge of the tank so the water was deep enough for each of the candidates to be immersed. Following the baptism, the new members bore their testimonies. They expressed deep gratitude for the gospel, especially one sister who had been attending church for 10 years. They sang hymns of praise as they traveled home in the dark and the rain.8

Through all these difficult experiences, I kept praying, and I could feel the comfort I was promised by the Spirit in a priesthood blessing I had received. One day I dared to ask the question, in prayer, “Why do I feel so alone?” And I received an answer or, rather, a promise—that I would make new friends, friends who would understand me.
And I did! I made new friends, some who aren’t members of the Church but who still respect and love me. I also made friends in the Church who have become like family to me.

The second experience that inspired me to speak on this subject comes from a former student in one of my classes. With his permission, I share some of his observations regarding some BYU-Idaho students who have not chosen to "stand united in tribute to the living prophet." Although my friend began attending BYU-Idaho in 2008, for financial reasons he soon had to leave school to provide for his family. During that time, he worked long hours at a very demanding job, stayed active in the Church, magnified his callings, and was diligently striving to follow the teachings of the living prophets. Through those years, he observed the following:

"I would follow friends [from BYU-Idaho] on Facebook and watch ... as they were able to finish their degree and go on to their desired career fields. Then I saw something else happen. Many of them ... after leaving this cradle of the gospel at BYU-Idaho, would start to wander. I watched as they started to make posts online or comments in conversations regarding their opposition to some of the statements put out by the First Presidency. They would always reference the more complex issues pressing us today. I could literally watch as my brothers and sisters that I knew here at BYU-I, who [were active and] legitimately and truthfully happy, let their testimonies decay and rot.... [T]hey allowed their own finite, misled though well intended, personal opinions [to] blind them to the divinity of the calling of the Prophet. As this would happen I would see them become negative, spiteful, and angry, [always seeking other sources to justify] their own erroneous way of thinking and why the Prophet, the very mouthpiece of Jehovah, was incorrect, outdated, or discriminatory...."
He then shared the following about his experience returning to this campus seven years later to finish his degree: "I see the same people I saw before, just with different faces. I have heard these young [students] make comments that are the seeds of apostasy.... I ... want to beg and plead with them to hold tight to the Iron Rod, which is not just the Book of Mormon, but every word of God spoken by the mouth of His prophets....
"It can be hard to see a Prophet [who] was raised in a different era and truly believe that he can grasp the issues at hand today; but he does, more than we do. Well it would be with us to take into consideration the commandment 'Seek not to counsel your God' (D&C 22:4) and to 'murmur not because of the things which [we have] not seen' (D&C 25:4)."[3]

“You’ll go up with Fritz,” the gliding club commander says. He looks me in the eye. “You nervous?”
“Nah.” A little white lie for bravado.
I am still in college at the time. Well, actually I’m working the summer before my senior year as an intern on an Alberta daily newspaper. On Friday a call comes into the editorial offices looking for someone to give the gliding club a little publicity. I volunteer.
Fritz arrives. He is dressed simply, in a golf shirt and slacks. I had expected a dirty leather jacket and goggles.
He raises a finger, checking for wind. “Get in,” he says to me. We strap ourselves into the glider’s belly. The clouds are gray and thick above us. Fritz looks at them with stern concentration. He seems to want to chase the clouds from the sky.
The gliding club doesn’t have a tow plane, just a winch with a long cable that catapults us upward. Suddenly we are being pulled with frightening velocity into the sky. In seconds we are two, then three thousand feet above the wheat fields. The cable breaks loose and there is nothing holding us up except balsa wood and fiberglass. I’m holding my breath. My fingers are white from gripping my seat.
I release my fingers and breathe deeply. The sound of the wind rushes by, the creak of the rudder as we turn. “Relax,” says Fritz. He’s looking for lift in the warming day.
I can’t see my pilot, but I know he’s there. I feel him controlling the plane. Mustering my bravest voice I ask, “How do you find the thermals?” Thermals are warm air currents that rise, allowing birds and gliders to gain altitude.
“You just know where they are,” he says from behind me. “I’ve done this a million times.”
We’re circling. I watch the horizon, perpetually tilted. Then a bump. “Ha,” says Fritz, “watch this.” The warm air lifts us, we circle faster, in a tighter loop. The ground passes by, round and round. The lift comes from nowhere. We are alone, soaring on air, climbing higher, circling faster.
From my seat I get an ever increasing view of the world. I forget my nerves. My pilot has given me a rare thrill, to be lifted on nothing more than air currents, to new heights.
The tilting earth levels, and Fritz and I prepare to land. Green, brown, asphalt gray rush below as we descend. Above, the clouds have parted. There is only blue sky where we have been.

The Lord has placed upon parents the primary responsibility for the spiritual nurturing of their children. Sometimes this responsibility falls to a single parent. My own mother was relatively young when my father died, leaving her alone with four children. But she faced her adversity with faith and courage, promising us that if we stayed on the road of truth, the end would be better than the beginning. Like the children of valiant mothers in the Book of Mormon, “we [did] not doubt our [mother] knew it” (Alma 56:48). Brothers and sisters, I understand in a personal way the great influence of mothers.
Today I stand before you to bear my witness that Jesus Christ is the very Savior and Redeemer of the world. This is His Church, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Our Heavenly Father wants all of His children to return to Him. I know this without contradiction because of the witness of the Holy Ghost to my heart. I didn’t always know—when I was younger I had to rely on my parents’ testimony. My mother assured me that if I stayed on the road of truth, even when it seemed hot and dusty, even when there were distractions, the end would be better than the beginning. I will be eternally grateful that Mother told me. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Here's a test of obedience to the request of a living prophet in Sierra Leone. I quote from an article in the Church News a couple of months back (Peter Evans, CN, Saturday, Jan. 1, 2011.)

"The first converts baptisms in Freetown, Sierra Leone, came in June 1988. By 1990, Mustafa Touray and his family were organized as a home group in Sierra Leone's second largest city. By August 1990, a branch was organized in Bo and Brother Touray was called to preside. Two other groups were meeting in rented buildings.

There was enthusiasm for the growth of the Church, and the saints felt they had finally gained a toehold in this teaming city of ½ million. There was notoriety in the community and recognition by those of other faiths that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was there to stay.

(Now - notice what happened.) 5 months later, in January 1991, mission president, Miles Cunningham, received a letter from Church President, Ezra Taft Benson, in which he asked the Saints in Bo to abandon their meetinghouses and go back to their homes to worship. The young leaders were very discouraged feeling that the buildings were such an important milestone for the Church in this part of Sierra Leone.

Uniformly, members were disappointed and unhappy about the request. Some members of the infant congregations were offended that the prophet in Utah would give such unwelcome advice. Others were heard to question whether or not the prophet understood their circumstances, and, lacking faith in the Lord's servants, they left the Church (those were not 'saints.' Others felt the stirring of testimony and confirmation of the Spirit, and while they didn't understand why President Benson would ask such a thing, they knew him to be a prophet. President Touray was sad and discouraged, but "recognized that [that saints] had been given a formal commandment, and had to obey. "I realized" he said, "it would be very important for us to obey although I did not know why at the time." The chapel doors were closed.

In March 1991 (2 months later), civil war erupted in Sierra Leone and this little nation became engulfed in a fiery battle that lasted more than a decade. Communities collapsed, infrastructures deteriorated, banks were closed, food was in scarce supply and repeated military coups left uncertainty as to who was a friend or foe. [Here's the point]: Churches were frequently targeted by the rebels with bullets and firebombs, and thousands of people lost their lives while sitting on pews hoping to pray and worship. But the members of the Lord's Church were safe from this harm for they were home -- worshiping in obedience to a prophet's counsel.

President Touray spoke of the miracle that had come to the people because of their obedience. "No member of the Church died in the city of Bo during the war : not one. The LDS Church was the only church that continued operating during the war in Bo : the only one. Every other church closed its doors. It was too dangerous for the people to walk to church and too dangerous to sit and worship. None of us (the Latter-day Saints) had any problem during the war. We worshipped through the whole war no matter how grave the situation was. Because we were obedient, our members received this great blessing."

I served a mission in South Africa, where, as with other missionaries, I told many people that if they prayed they would soon receive an answer from heaven telling them our teaching is true. They could ask directly if the Book of Mormon is the word of God, and if so, the restored gospel came through the Prophet Joseph.

My companion enjoyed his time when he could listen to music, it did not have to be Mo Tab. I had determined that I would use the Sunday night when he disappeared into his head phones to test the promise, the promise that I had been making to others. I had entered the mission field due to the prompting of great parents and good church leaders. I remember when I was 14 my Bishop, John Adams asked me if I was going on a mission. That day I told him yes, so nothing else mattered, I had made a promise. I would go.

I clearly remember that night in the mission field in great detail. I placed a pillow under my knees.
I knelt down; my companion was lost in his music, so I began to pray out loud. I explained to my Heavenly Father that I needed to know if the promise I was giving to others was valid. I told Him that I had faith in Christ as Moroni instructed. I had a sincere heart; I really wanted to know. I had real intent, I told Heavenly Father that if it were not a valid promise, I would go home. I told Him I would not get off my knees until I received a yes or a no.

I am so very grateful that Heavenly Father was kind to me. He might have even chuckled a little bit over my demand to know.

I cannot express what happened after that. What I can express is that without any doubt I was given an answer from Heavenly Father that The Book of Mormon is as it claims to be. It is the word of God, Joseph Smith is a prophet. The promise I had been giving to others is valid. I do not remember how long I had prayed before the answer came, nor do I know how long it lasted but I cannot deny the sweetness of that answer.

Tears fell as I prayed for peace when my youngest son filled out his missionary application. I really wanted him to go on a mission. I did. I kept trying to convince myself of this.
I love my Savior and was genuinely thrilled for my son’s opportunity to share the joy we can find through Jesus Christ. Yet deep down I was afraid of him leaving. I knew that he would never truly come home again after his mission. Even if he lived at home, it wouldn’t be the same.
My friends told me the empty-nester stage was wonderful. My husband and I were excited and looking forward to the freedom and opportunities we hadn’t had while we were raising our children.
With this newfound freedom, I threw myself into a myriad of activities. I traveled with my husband, learned to play the organ for my calling, played with my grandchildren, and did temple and family history work.
I found excitement and adventure. I found self-improvement. I found wonderful things.
Yet there was always something missing. Something still wasn’t there. When my son left, he took a big chunk of my heart that I couldn’t seem to fill.
About a year after my son left, I had a temper tantrum to compete with all the temper tantrums my children threw when they were young. My husband looked at me and said, “Michelle, you need to serve.” I signed up for a service opportunity.
Still, my heart ached. I had a hard time throwing myself into service or any of the other ventures that beckoned. With all my children gone, I felt like my life would never be quite whole again.
One night when I prayed for help, the Spirit informed me that I was experiencing the void that comes from loss—loss of purpose. I thought I had dealt with that particular sadness by filling my life with all those wonderful activities.
As I sought for answers, I found this statement from the Prophet Joseph Smith’s history: “When we lose [something or someone] upon whom we have set our hearts it should be a caution unto us. … Our affections should be placed upon God and his work more intensely than upon our fellow beings.”1
A jolt of light pierced the dark cloud over my heart. I had tried to fill my deep cavity of sorrow with things, activities, and experiences—serving, loving, pursuing talents. All good things, but they didn’t fill my gaping hole. They didn’t heal the way I needed healing.
I realized that type of peace and fulfillment can only come through our Savior, Jesus Christ. Jesus taught, “I am the way, the truth, and the life” (John 14:6). It is only through Him that we find joy and wholeness and peace and contentment. Psalm 16:11 says, “Thou wilt shew me the path of life: in thy presence is fulness of joy.”
Life didn’t instantly change. My heart didn’t instantly heal. But I knew where my focus had to be for it to happen.
My prayers shifted. I started asking Heavenly Father to help me build a stronger relationship with my Savior. When I would get discouraged, I would consciously remind myself that Jesus Christ was there for me, and through the grace of His atoning power, He would help me. My scripture study became more focused on building a relationship with Him. It took time, but I persisted in directing my emotions, my energy, and my thoughts toward Jesus Christ.
As I did, the heavy darkness began to lift. I found greater enjoyment in the little acts of service and love each day. Light and hope brightened my path and filled the void in my heart. Putting the Savior first gave deeper meaning and enjoyment to every aspect of my life, from serving to spending time with family, from traveling to developing my talents. Everything became richer with Christ at the center.
Everyone’s journey through the changing times in life is unique. However, the solution to our sorrows is to respond to Christ’s call when He says, “Come unto me with full purpose of heart, and I shall heal [you]” (3 Nephi 18:32). It is only through Him that we will find true healing, peace, love, and joy.

When I was in my late 20s, I went through a period of deep depression, and during that time, it was as if the reality that God existed was suddenly gone. I can’t fully explain the feeling other than to say I felt completely lost. From the time I was a young child, I had always known that my Father in Heaven was there and that I could talk to Him. But during that time, I no longer knew if there was a God. I’d never experienced anything like that before in my life, and it felt like my whole foundation was crumbling.
As a result, it was hard for me to attend church. I went, but it was partly because I was afraid of being labeled “inactive” or “less faithful,” and I was afraid of becoming someone’s assigned project. What I really needed during that time was to feel genuine love, understanding, and support from those around me, not judgment.
Some of the assumptions I was afraid people would make about me, I myself had made about others when they didn’t regularly attend church. That painful personal experience taught me some valuable lessons about why we’ve been commanded not to judge one another unrighteously.

One morning soon after we first arrived in New Zealand, our shepherd bishop gave us a wild sheep. He had caught the sheep while tending to his flock in the mountains around our valley. He thought we could use the sheep as our lawnmower. I think he also wanted us to learn how to take care of a sheep as part of our new experiences living in the country.

Later the same day, the sheep escaped his tether in our yard, scrambled under our gate, and escaped across the nearby paddocks. The bishop, my children, and other family members in the area helped us chase after the sheep. The poor animal was very frightened. As the sheep tried to jump across a ditch in a field, he suddenly collapsed and died. We were very sad to lose the sheep. We couldn’t understand why the sheep died. He was healthy, and he did not suffer any injuries in his escape.

Our bishop explained that the sheep became so frightened and distressed that its heart broke—it basically had a massive heart attack—and the sheep died. In his experience as a shepherd, he had seen this happen before.

Tashia Wood, from the Lazona Ward, was paired with a 10-year-old girl named Angelica. Tashia, 16, was nervous at first, but soon discovered that she had more in common with Angelica than she thought. “It was really cool because they were just like us,” Tashia said. “They just wanted to have fun.”
After Angelica won a prize at one game, she gave it to Tashia and said, “I want you to have this because I don’t want you to forget me.”
“She wasn’t selfish at all,” Tashia said. “She taught me not to take for granted what I have, because I have a lot of stuff and I’m usually whining about things I can’t have. Instead she gave to me, and she hardly has anything. She usually doesn’t even have a home to go to at night.”

In Kentucky, in the southern United States, it gets hot and muggy during the summer. One day people noticed that green mold was growing on the fence around the Louisville Kentucky Temple. And not just a little—there was a lot!
So the Primary children of the Crestwood Second Ward in the Louisville Kentucky Stake decided to do something about it. One warm June day they had an activity. “We took rags and buckets of water and soap to clean the fence and help keep our Heavenly Father’s house clean,” said Sara M., age 10. She got soaked, but “it was fun because all our friends were there.”
Josh H., age 9, said he got a little tired cleaning the high parts of the fence. But he had lots of help. In fact, almost all of the Primary children came, about 75 in all. Many brought their brothers and sisters and moms and dads to help.
The children knew they were on the temple grounds, so they tried to be reverent. And no one complained about the hard work. “We had to scrub really hard because the stains had been there for a while,” said Megan H., age 6. But it was worth it. “I knew we were taking care of our Heavenly Father’s home.”
Sara felt the same way. “I really felt the Spirit because I knew Heavenly Father was happy we were doing that,” she said.
After the work was done, the group gathered at the Church building next door to eat hot dogs and to talk about what they learned.
The Primary children can’t wait until they can go in the temple themselves to do baptisms for the dead. But for now, they are happy knowing they helped the outside look beautiful—just like Heavenly Father’s house should.

Illustration by Brad Teare; The Lord Jesus Christ, by Del Parson © IRI
Emma tightened her grip on her backpack as she walked into her new classroom. It was the first day of school. She had her favorite dress on, and Mom had packed a special treat with lunch—animal crackers.
Today is going to be great, Emma thought to herself. As long as—
Emma stopped and stared across the classroom. There she was. Violet.
Last year Violet had hogged the monkey bars every recess. She had called Emma names. She had even stolen Emma’s best friend!
Violet saw Emma and stuck out her tongue. Emma glared back, gripping her backpack even harder. Violet had been mean all last year, and it seemed this year wouldn’t be any different.
“Welcome to a new year, class!” Miss Caldwell said from the front of the room. “Let’s assign seats.”
The desks were lined up in twos across the classroom. Miss Caldwell ran her finger down the roll, then she pointed at a pair of desks in the back. “Emma. You will sit back there.”
Emma sat down in one of the back desks. She hoped Liselle would sit next to her. Or Jaime. Or—
“Violet.”
Emma’s head jerked up. Did she hear that right?
Yes. Miss Caldwell was still pointing at the desk beside hers. “You will be Emma’s neighbor, Violet,” she said.
Violet trudged toward Emma with a frown. Emma put her head on her desk and stared at the wall. It was going to be a long year.
At math time Miss Caldwell wrote some problems on the board for the class to solve. “You may work alone or with your neighbor,” she said.
Emma quickly hunched over her paper, pretending like she was busy. The problems were pretty easy. She was just trying to avoid Violet. She hadn’t looked at her once all morning.
Something poked her shoulder. It felt like a pencil. Emma ignored it.
Another poke. Violet was poking her! Emma kept working stubbornly.
Violet’s third poke was hard enough to hurt. Emma could feel herself boiling up inside. Was the whole year going to be like this? She thought about raising her hand to tell Miss Caldwell. Or maybe she’d just give Violet another glare.
Then Emma heard a sniffle. Was someone crying? The pencil poked her again. She looked over and saw Violet staring at her. Her pencil was in her hand, and there were tears in her eyes. Her paper was covered in eraser smudges.
Violet twisted the pencil in her hands. “Can you help me?” she asked quietly.
Emma looked at her for a minute, shocked. Violet wanted her to help? After how mean she had always been? Emma turned back to her own paper. Violet could work alone. She didn’t deserve Emma’s help, even if she was her neighbor!
Emma silently faced forward. She could hear Violet crying softly next to her. The scriptures always said to love her neighbor—but Violet was different! Emma was only sitting next to her in class!
Emma went back to her own work. Then she stopped. Maybe Violet wasn’t different. Maybe when the scriptures said to love your neighbor, they meant everyone. Even the mean ones. Even if it was hard.
Emma sighed and slowly put her pencil down. She turned to Violet and tried her best to smile. “Can I help?” she asked.
Violet nodded, wiping her tears away with her hand.
Emma leaned over Violet’s paper and started helping with the first problem. She already had a warm feeling inside her. She wondered if Violet liked animal crackers.

I have some sad news. Will has dropped us. That means that he doesn’t want us to teach him anymore, and he doesn’t want to join the Church. Maybe someday he’ll change his mind. I learned an important lesson from him. Elder Watts and I were trying to convince Will that what we were teaching him was true. We forgot that a person has to listen to the Spirit to know that the Church is true and that you can’t convince someone with mere words. I hope that I never forget that again.

Some years ago I accepted an invitation to a fathers and sons outing, where the participants spent an arduous but interesting day mounted on horses on a trip to Bloomington Lake in the mountains of Bear Lake County, Idaho. Late at night, after the campfires had all burned out and everyone had settled down under the open heavens, I lay on my back, gazing overhead. It was a moonless night, and I have never seen such a beautiful sight. The heavens were alive with the brightness of stars and planets. How small I felt in comparison to that vast universe! A sense of appreciation came over me as I thought of God’s glory, of his handiwork, the earth, the heavens, all created for one purpose—his children, mankind. That experience has remained with me. I was overwhelmed by the magnitude of it.

Sonora Dodd devoted her life to honoring fathers, and her strong feelings about fatherhood were passed to her son, Jack. In 1952 one of Sonora Dodd’s proudest moments came when Jack was named “Father of the Year.” Nineteen years later, an even prouder moment came. Sonora Louise Dodd, the woman known as “the mother of Father’s Day,” became the first and only woman ever to be named “Father of the Year!”

One Friday night I went to do temple baptisms for the first time. I thought the temple would be a spotless place where I could feel the Spirit. I was not disappointed. When I first arrived, I saw my Papa Skip. He was working in the baptistry that night. He was dressed all in white. White tie, white jacket, white everything!
I was going to be baptized for a special ancestor with a fun name. His name was Abraham Abraham. I had never heard of anyone who had the same first and last names. I felt really good when I was baptized for him. I felt like he was happy to finally have a chance to be a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Before I was confirmed for Abraham Abraham, Papa Skip talked to me about the importance of being part of the Church. Temples provide opportunities for all of God’s children to become members of His Church. When we’re confirmed, we receive one of the best gifts in the whole world. When we are worthy, we get to have the Spirit with us! This means when we have choices to make, we should listen for the Spirit to help us make wise choices. It means I must listen for the Spirit to lead me instead of letting the world lead me.
I want to live my life so that someday I will get to shake Abraham Abraham’s hand and tell him how happy it made me to help him become a member of the Church.
When I left the temple, my mom asked me my thoughts about the temple. I said, “It was a great experience, and I want to go back again!”

Those who know me know that I enjoy the game of hockey. I would like to share a valuable lesson that I learned from playing hockey that applies to life and more particularly to watching and resisting temptations. While growing up and in college, I played the position of goalie. To score the opposing team often seeks to distract the goalie to increase their chances of scoring. They send someone to the front of the net to block the eyesight of the goalie. They don't want the goalie to see the puck. If the goalie loses sight of the puck, they have a better chance of scoring. They often subtly bump into the goalie and try to agitate the goalie. Sometimes the opponents make harsh comments to discourage and try to intimidate the goalie so they lose their mental focus. A good goalie learns to keep a determined eye on the puck and ignore the distractions. At times the goalie has to get low and look between the legs, or lean left or right to look around opponents standing in their way. I learned early that I could slash or hit the defender and try to push at him and discourage him from standing in front of me, but I quickly realized I was merely confirming to him that he was indeed agitating me. In fact, these attempts on my part actually stirred him up and encouraged him to intensify his attempts to block my vision.
Like a goalie in hockey we must keep our concentration and focus on the puck or the goal of living with our heavenly father. We can't let ourselves be screened, we have to be active and maintain focus on our goals. We also should not spend time agitating or encouraging temptation into our life. In addition to screening the goalie and blocking his view, the opponent will try to get the goalie out of position. They do this by either passing to teammates quickly or moving the puck from side to side, thereby getting the goalie out of position and open up holes in his defense. If a goalie is not ready and set in his position, it is harder to block a shot and stop the puck. The goalie has to constantly be aware of his surroundings, anticipate where the puck could go, and use quick reflexes to respond with a practiced reaction. Resisting the evils of the world requires great amounts of anticipation and practicing in our minds how to react if and when situations arise.