Gospel Story Finder

I witnessed a simple example of this kind of prayer when Elder Dallin H. Oaks of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles and I were assigned to conduct a videoconference interview of a couple in another country. Shortly before going into the studio, I reviewed once again the information we had collected about the couple and felt I was prepared for the interview. A few minutes before the appointed time, I saw Elder Oaks sitting alone with head bowed. In a moment he raised his head and said, “I was just finishing my prayer in preparation for this interview. We will need the gift of discernment.” He had not neglected the most important preparation, a prayer to consecrate our performance for our good and the Lord’s glory.

For instance, each time you and your companion prepare to go visiting teaching, you just need to remember what success will be. It will be more than getting in the door. It will be more than giving a message. It will be more than asking how you can help. Success will come perhaps only after many visits. And you may not in this world see the evidence that you have succeeded. But you can feel by the Spirit if you are on the way.

I talked with a Relief Society member about a visit she had made. It was to a woman who would soon lose her husband suddenly and tragically. In recent years the woman had only intermittent contact with Relief Society.

The visitor prepared by stopping at a shop to buy flowers. It was a season when the tulips were stacked for sale in many colors. She chose one color, her favorite, but then felt impressed to try another. She didn’t know why she selected yellow, but she did.

When she presented the yellow tulips at the door, the woman smiled and said, “Come. See my backyard garden.” It was filled with yellow tulips in full bloom. The woman said, “I was just wondering if I should cut some for the house. But now I can leave them and enjoy them a little longer in my garden because you brought me these.” They chatted pleasantly as if they were old friends. From that impression to bring some flowers and to choose yellow tulips, that visiting teacher had evidence that she was on the Lord’s errand. When she told me, I could hear the joy in her voice.

When she spoke with me, she didn’t know what the widow felt after the visit. But if the widow felt that God loved her and that He had sent an angel to her, the visiting teacher had helped her move down the road to success in the Lord’s eyes. That visitor may verify success from her faithful effort only in the world to come.

That is true for two visiting teachers who again and again brought love to another widow living nearby in a nursing home for nearly nine years. After hard trials, she passed away just weeks ago. From what I learned from a son of the widow, I am confident that those teachers succeeded. They will have the happy experience the Prophet Joseph Smith’s mother described to the sisters in a meeting of the society which she attended. She said, “We must cherish [and] watch over one another, comfort one another and gain instruction that we may all sit down in heaven together.”6

I am not very keen in statistics, but as far as I know, our Kolkata Branch of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is one of the smallest branches in India. Despite having few members, we always have high spirits—especially at Christmas when we celebrate the birth of our Savior.
This year, however, we were upset because no missionaries were assigned here in Kolkata, as we had hoped. It was November. We had been fasting and praying together. At last, we realized that maybe it was still not the time according to our Heavenly Father’s plan and decided to have the Christmas party on Sunday, 23 December. We had limited time and many things to arrange. We prayed and started making the arrangements together. We did the shopping, visited the restaurants, invited our friends and families, and decorated the church.
On the 23rd, we started with prayer and partaking of the sacrament followed by Christmas hymns and testimonies. After that, we had games and food. The day was filled with joy and happiness and many queries from friends about our Church. At the end of the day, though we were exhausted physically, our minds were overflowing with glorious warm feelings. I looked around and there was not a single disappointed face there. Every member seemed to be infused with new hope and courage. I quietly stood there as my mind was washed with the light of the new knowledge that we had been rewarded with many gifts on this celebration of our beloved Savior’s birth. The treasured blessings of joy turned into gratitude, happiness turned into hope, and smiles turned into courage.

Some books tell us things we should know; others just entertain us. This 1968 Newbery Award book does both—and more. It is one of the most unusual and delightful books you could find to read.
Claudia decides that her family takes her too much for granted. She plans to leave home so they will miss her. She invites her brother Jamie to go with her because he is the miser of the family and can be depended upon to have money. They run away to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City, where they become involved in mystery, adventure, and excitement. Their story and the unexpected things Claudia and Jamie find out about themselves are recorded by the wealthy Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler in a long letter to her lawyer.
This book is a must for older readers of the Friend.

The Mia Maids had a problem.
“Two of the most popular girls (in Mia Maids) decided that ‘having fun’ was more important than living the gospel,” explains Sarah Tunnell of the Snohomish (Washington) Second Ward. “They stopped coming to church.”
Sarah, first counselor in the Mia Maid presidency, and Tresa Brown, the president, felt they needed to do something to help keep others from making the same mistake.
“I had just finished reading the Book of Mormon for the first time,” Sarah says. “And I said, ‘If everyone would just read the Book of Mormon, they’d have a testimony, and the possibility of their going inactive would be a lot smaller.’”
Sarah and Tresa looked through a clip art book, found a calendar, and worked out a schedule for reading the Book of Mormon. They also outlined a system for calling all the Mia Maids and reminding them of their reading goals.
“We had a presidency meeting that night,” Sarah continues. “The Laurel president happened to come by, and she said, ‘Hey, we want to do that!’ So we said, ‘Okay, but we can’t leave out the Beehives.’ So we called the Beehive president, and she said, ‘Us too!’ We started the next week.”
The idea was simple. “You can’t really bribe them. They can buy their own candy or ice cream. We decided the best thing was to provide a calendar and then just remind them and encourage them. Anyway, that was the limit of what we could do with our teenage income, which is nonexistent.”
Since then, the program has gone through some fine tuning, tailoring daily goals to individual abilities, incorporating “catch-up” days for those who get behind, coordinating with seminary reading schedules to avoid duplication, etc. And some have read more than others.
“I haven’t read as much as I’m supposed to,” one Beehive admitted. “But thanks to Sarah, I have read something.”
And the major goal, “Just to have them open the book, to have some kind of daily contact with it,” as Sarah says, has been met by just about everyone. In fact, last Sunday in ward council meeting, they were discussing a Book of Mormon reading program for the entire ward.

Our first two children were beautiful little girls. During my third pregnancy, a critical situation developed. It was soon recognized to be life-threatening. Medical experts advised us that there were two alternatives—my probable death, or therapeutic abortion of the child growing within me. The Holy Ghost testified there was no option—I would continue to carry our unborn child. Others in similar situations may well receive a different witness from him. This was personal revelation and was accepted. Anguishing months followed, months of pleading with the Lord that those near to me would have the same conviction, months of applying the power of the priesthood through my husband’s administrations. At last a healthy child was born—our first and only son. My life was spared. This is background for the incident that I feel prompted to share with you this evening.

It occurred when this most treasured, little son was nearly three years old. One day, suddenly and without warning, he stopped breathing and fell to the floor, apparently lifeless. My husband was not home, and I called my ten-year-old daughter, Nancy, to get help as I carried him to the bedroom. As I worked to revive him, I literally, cried out unto the Lord. I begged him to spare our only son. I promised that I would dedicate myself to training him up to be an instrument in the hands of God if he would be spared. The police arrived with their emergency equipment. I continued in fervent, vocal prayer to the Lord, petitioning him to restore our little boy. The doctor arrived. Just as a stimulant was to be injected directly into his heart as a final emergency measure, he cried. My prayers had been answered, but I was to receive further testimony of this in a most unexpected way.

The next morning, our son climbed on his daddy’s knee. “I was sitting on the lap of Jesus,” he said. Then he went on, “He looked into my eyes. I was so happy. I wanted to stay there with him, but he told me I had to go back home to you.” Even now, twenty-four years later, our son remembers vividly the reciprocal love he experienced during his brief “step out of time.” He is vigorous and well, living with his lovely wife and a little son of his own as he continues to serve the Lord.

Just as this child, for that one brief moment, knew and felt the love of the Savior, may we, as women of all ages, as daughters of God, as wives, as mothers, as contributing members of society whose identities are being challenged, seek to know him well enough to love him, well enough to serve him. Seek his face. Reciprocate his love. Reflect it to others. Consider this sobering thought as expressed by C. S. Lewis: “It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and godesses” (The Weight of Glory, Grand Rapids, Mich: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1965, pp. 14–15.)

Jesus Christ is our Savior, our brother, our friend. He is as near as we allow him to be. Our only ultimate joy and happiness is predicated upon our relationship with him. Our only peace, through disappointments, sorrow, and challenges, will come as we draw nearer unto him. With such love for our Redeemer, every difficult experience may be met with courage, acceptance, and even gratitude. His love for us is a gift beyond price. What does he ask in return? “Love one another; as I have loved you.” (John 13:34.)

To these truths I bear solemn witness, for I know this is God’s church. I know God lives, as does his Beloved Son, our Savior Jesus Christ; and the Lord’s word will go forth this night through his chosen mouthpiece, President Spencer W. Kimball. May we listen to a prophet’s voice, I pray in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

I’m home again. Things are not going well. The cancer is back, and Tuesday I’ll be leaving for Minnesota for a bone marrow transplant. I’m not excited about it, but it’s the only hope I have. …
I’ve been in Minnesota for a couple of days now. The doctors have killed most of my diseased bone marrow, and because of that I need blood platelets and white cells. I don’t know anyone here to ask to be a donor, so I had the doctor call the mission president. Within just a few hours—can you believe it!—there were more than eight people here waiting to be typed. My doctor was amazed, and I was just thankful. It isn’t like giving blood. They had to sit by a machine for several hours while their blood was pumped out and stripped of the materials I need.
None of them even knew me, and some of them drove as far as 60 miles to help me. The Church is like a big family for me. I know I can depend on the members for help anytime I need it. It’s a good feeling.
My brother is going to be the donor for my transplant. I’m grateful that his marrow is compatible with mine and grateful he is willing to give it to me. It’s a big sacrifice. I really love him for it.
During the operation they are going to kill the rest of my bone marrow and then give me some of my brother’s healthy marrow. If the transplant doesn’t work, I’m in a little bit of trouble. It’s a chance I have to take. I don’t have a choice, not if I want to live. There is so much I want to do, but if I don’t make it, I’m grateful for what I’ve had. I have so much to be thankful for: my family, my friends, the gospel.
I still don’t know why this has happened to me. I guess it really isn’t important. What I do know is that I must trust in and obey my Father in Heaven. I know that in the end, everything will be all right. One of the beautiful things about the gospel is that no matter what happens to us, as long as we have faith and as long as we are obedient, we have hope. I wouldn’t wish what I have experienced on anyone, but I do wish that everyone could feel what I feel about the beauty of life, about the value of living every day as completely as we can, and most of all, about the beauty and strength the gospel can bring to us.

Elder LeGrand Richards of the Council of the Twelve served faithfully throughout his life. At age 96 his missionary spirit and zest for life kept him young in spirit and positive in outlook. When he passed away at 10:40 A.M. January 11, 1983 at the home of a daughter in Salt Lake City, the Church lost a giant, but his influence for good will long be felt. As the grandson of Franklin D. Richards and the son of George F. Richards (both of whom were also Apostles), Elder Richards never seemed to doubt the faith of his fathers, but rather, took every opportunity to share it with others.
On a typical afternoon in the later part of his life, Elder Richards was showing some youth of the Church through the Church Administration Building. They had come to a room lined with beautiful onyx marble. As he spoke to them, his speech became more rapid and his eyes brightened. He recalled the story of a nationally prominent man who had visited the building many years before. Elder Richards had been assigned to accompany the man and make him feel welcome. When they reached the onyx room, the visitor looked around at the craftsmanship, the obvious care, and the resultant splendor with which the early Saints had endowed that room in their headquarters. According to Elder Richards, the man said, “My, my, you Mormons seem to be a going concern.” And then Elder Richards answered, “Yes, sir, and would you like to know more?”
Missionary work was a theme threaded throughout Elder Richards’s life. His book A Marvelous Work and a Wonder is a classic in Mormon literature and is a successful tool for missionary work in many areas of the world. The book is the best-selling LDS book other than the scriptures. Elder Richards never accepted any royalties.
He began mortal life on February 6, 1886, in Farmington, Utah, as the son of George F. and Alice A. Robinson Richards. The family moved to Tooele, Utah, where LeGrand grew up on the family farm.
While still a young man, LeGrand went to Salt Lake City with his older brother and completed an 18-month business course in 12 months. He did this while serving as a home teacher two full nights a week.
After the college business course, he was offered a position with a prominent firm. He declined the offer in order to answer a call to the Netherlands Mission. That was the first of four missions he would ultimately serve for the Church.
While on his mission as a 19-year-old, Elder Richards felt a pressing need to master the Dutch language. He would walk across the street from the mission home to the cattle market. There he would walk up and down the lanes preaching Dutch to the animals and trees. When he didn’t know a word, he would jot it down in a notebook to look up later. At a combined mission conference he was called upon to speak by President Heber J. Grant. He bore his testimony in Dutch with such power that nonmembers in attendance later remembered him for it and one joined the Church.
After his mission to the Netherlands, he began working in the Presiding Bishopric’s Office in Salt Lake City. In 1909 he married Ina Jane Ashton and moved to Portland, Oregon to begin work there. Brother and Sister Richards became the parents of eight children. It was in Oregon that he received a call as branch president.
When LeGrand was 27, he took his family and returned to the Netherlands to serve as the president of that mission. In 1930, President Heber J. Grant asked him to move to California to become president of the Hollywood Stake. Between being mission president and stake president he served three times as bishop and twice as a high councilor and filled a short-term mission in the Eastern States. He was released as the Hollywood Stake president to go to the Southern States Mission and fill the position of mission president there.
Four years later and still mission president, he dreamed he met President Grant, who said he had a special blessing for him. When he awakened he could not remember the blessing, but he remembered how thrilled he was. Within a year he was appointed Presiding Bishop of the Church.
Several times in his life he came close to death. Twice in his youth he was spared from near-fatal accidents and when he was the Presiding Bishop, he suffered a severe heart attack. Elder Harold B. Lee was called to administer to Bishop Richards, after which he “testified that as he laid hands on Elder Richards’ head, he knew the Lord was to spare him for further work” (Improvement Era, Nov. 1966, p. 1002). Ten years later, in 1952, Elder Richards was called to the Council of the Twelve.
Elder LeGrand Richards was himself a marvelous work and a wonder. His energetic love for people showed in every word he spoke and in the relentless missionary effort he continued throughout his life. He spoke as though every second were of such import that not one word should be lost and that every person listening needed to catch every anxious word. He was indeed a man of God.

The fourth is to respect yourself as a son of God. Those of us who have served missions have seen the miracle in the lives of some we have taught as they have come to realize that they are sons and daughters of God. Many years ago an elder who served a mission in the British Isles said at the end of his labors, “I think my mission has been a failure. I have labored all my days as a missionary here and I have only baptized one dirty little Irish kid. That is all I baptized.”

Years later, after his return to his home in Montana, he had a visitor come to his home who asked, “Are you the elder who served a mission in the British Isles in 1873?”

“Yes.”

Then the man went on, “And do you remember having said that you thought your mission was a failure because you had only baptized one dirty little Irish kid?”

He said, “Yes.”

The visitor put out his hand and said, “I would like to shake hands with you. My name is Charles A. Callis, of the Council of the Twelve of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I am that dirty little Irish kid that you baptized on your mission.”

That little Irish boy came to a knowledge of his potential as a son of God. Elder Callis left a lasting legacy for his large family. Serving as a mission president for 25 years and in his apostolic ministry for 13 years, he blessed the lives of literally thousands. I feel privileged to have known this great Apostle of the Lord when I was a young man.

I was serving as a missionary when I met Susie (name has been changed). She and her family had been taught the gospel by two missionaries who worked in the mission office with me. They had received all the lessons and had accepted the invitation to be baptized and confirmed. It was my privilege to interview this wonderful family of four: mother, father, younger brother, and Susie.
I had completed the baptismal interviews for the other three family members and had found them wonderfully prepared and excited to be part of the Lord’s kingdom. But when Susie walked in, she seemed quiet and somewhat hesitant to meet with me.
I began asking questions about what she had been taught. She knew the story of the Prophet Joseph Smith and believed it; she had read the Book of Mormon and knew it to be true; and she accepted the Church as the only true and living Church on the earth and wanted to be part of it. I asked Susie about her willingness to live the law of tithing, the Word of Wisdom, and other commandments. She said she understood these and was willing to live them for the rest of her life. Indeed, the interview was much like those I had had with the rest of her family.
Then I asked, “Can you tell me what the law of chastity is?” Her countenance immediately changed. I quickly recognized this must be why she seemed hesitant to meet with me. Before I could say anything, she covered her face with both hands, put her face and hands in her lap, and began to sob uncontrollably.
We sat without speaking for several minutes. I was unsure of what to say, and Susie could not stop sobbing. I prayed for the Lord’s help and asked Susie what was wrong. She finally lifted her face and told me that several weeks before meeting the missionaries she and her boyfriend had done things the missionaries had taught her were wrong according to the Lord’s law. She had already told her boyfriend what she had learned and had told him she would no longer be involved in such a relationship. She had even suggested to him that he meet with the missionaries and hear what she now knew was true. Still, the guilt for having engaged in these acts weighed down her soul.
My heart hurt with hers. I wanted so much to help her because I felt that her remorse and her desire to do right and be baptized were sincere. At that moment, the answer to my prayer came clearly. I asked her, “Susie, would you like to be free of the guilt and pain of this sin?” Once again her hands covered her face, and her head bowed. She uttered only one word: “Yes.” Her tears came even more freely, and I consoled her by talking about the Atonement and how she could apply it to her life. I explained that one purpose of baptism and confirmation is to heal the souls of those who are sincere in repentance, and without question I found her to be sincere.
We completed the interview with a prayer. The Spirit of the Lord was clearly present, more powerfully than I had ever before felt in an interview.
My companion and I arrived at the chapel shortly before the baptism. There was no time to speak to Susie or her family prior to the service. After the singing and the talks, they were baptized—first her mother, then her father, then her brother, and finally Susie. She walked down into the font, and her smile told the story—the healing balm of the Master was working in her heart. As she came out of the water, tears were in her eyes and mine. Her smile was even bigger than before, and her countenance was radiant. I understood at that moment why the Savior taught, “Come unto me, all ye that … are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28).
We spoke only briefly after the service. I welcomed the family as new members of the Lord’s kingdom. As I shook Susie’s hand, I wanted to tell her how much this experience had meant to me. I had repented in my life and felt the power of the Atonement, but I was grateful to have felt it more powerfully than ever before because of my association with her.
Joining the Church is a challenge in and of itself. Joining under such personally strained circumstances had to be an even greater challenge for Susie, as it is for many new members. But the Atonement of Jesus Christ made the challenge surmountable and led this wonderful daughter of God to conversion and a healing of the soul. It also taught an impressionable young missionary an important lesson about applying the Atonement in his own life.

Illustrations by Cam Kendell
Hi, Mia. Want to play four square with us?
I don’t really feel like playing right now.
OK.
That night …
Sound label: Sniffle (coming from top bunk)
I don’t know why I feel so sad. Maybe a Primary song will help me feel better.
Heavenly Father, are you really there? And do you hear and answer every child’s prayer?
What’s wrong, Mia?
I was sad, but now I feel the Holy Ghost.
What does the Holy Ghost do?
He comforts us. That’s why He’s called the Comforter.
Mom, Dad, guess what? I felt the Holy Ghost! I was sad, and He comforted me.
I’m so glad! Come tell us about it.
The next day …
Hi, Mia. Are you feeling better?
Yes! Can I play with you today?
Yeah! Let’s go.
Thanks!
Thanks to Mia P. for sharing her story!

“My brother Brady and I didn’t have a bad relationship. The problem was, we didn’t have a relationship at all. Involvement in school and with my friends meant everything. I never spent any time with him. When I heard about the experiment, I immediately thought of Brady, and after praying about it I was sure he was the one. At first it was a chore; then it became a little easier; then I realized he is fun! I just had to make the first move. Now he comes to invite me to do things with him.”—Brittany Brammer

“We get to hear the prophet speak today!” Chase said to his little sister, Amelie.
Amelie was excited too. They had learned about prophets in family home evening just last Monday. A prophet is a person who has been called by God and speaks for Him. The prophet receives commandments and revelations from God and then shares them with Heavenly Father’s children. Mom had shown Chase and Amelie pictures of President Monson. They decided to draw their own pictures of the prophet too.
Now Chase and Amelie were going to a devotional to hear President Thomas S. Monson speak to them.
“Let’s bring our pictures,” Chase said.
Chase and Amelie took their pictures of President Monson off the refrigerator door.
“This is going to be more fun than the circus or the zoo!” Chase said.
When they got to the devotional, Chase and Amelie stared at all the people in the huge stadium. Almost all of the seats were filled. Chase and Amelie had to sit behind the stand. All they could see was the back of President Monson’s head.
President Monson spoke about prophets God had called in the latter days. The prophets were righteous men who followed God.
After the closing prayer, President Monson turned to leave the stadium. He headed right toward Chase and Amelie! They excitedly held up their pictures so President Monson could see them.
President Monson smiled when he saw Chase and Amelie’s pictures.
“Oh, how nice,” he said. “How about a high five?” President Monson held up his hand to Chase and Amelie.
Chase and Amelie each gave President Monson a high five. They were so happy to meet the prophet. They truly knew that he was a prophet of God.

I once visited a family in Chile. One of the children was a boy named Benjamin. He was 10 years old. One night, Benjamin gave a home evening lesson. It was about the stripling warriors from the Book of Mormon (see Alma 53:16–21; 56:42–56). He talked about how brave they were and how they trusted God.
Sometime later, Benjamin’s dad died in an accident. When Benjamin’s mom heard about the accident, she thought of Benjamin’s lesson. She told her family, “We need to be brave like the stripling warriors. We have another battle to fight.”
It was hard for Benjamin’s family. It felt like their lives were turned upside down. They had to move to another house to live with their grandma. They really missed their dad. But they knew they would be together with him again someday. They decided to be a striplingwarrior family.
I walked into their house wanting to comfort them. But I was the one who left feeling blessed. Benjamin told us, “I’m being brave.” Benjamin and his family are fighting this battle so bravely. Their faith is inspiring to me.

My years at Ricks College, during which I tried to seek God’s will and do it, kept the pavilion from covering me or obscuring God’s active role in my life. As I sought to do His work, I felt close to Him and felt assurance that He knew of my affairs and cared deeply for my happiness. But as they had at Stanford, worldly motivations began to present themselves to me. One was an attractive job offer, extended just as I was finishing my fifth year as president of Ricks College. I considered the offer and prayed about it and even discussed it with the First Presidency. They responded with warmth and a little humor but certainly not with any direction. President Spencer W. Kimball listened to me describe the offer I had received from a large corporation and said: “Well, Hal, that sounds like a wonderful opportunity! And if we ever needed you, we’d know where to find you.” They would have known where to find me, but my desires for professional success might have created a pavilion that would make it hard for me to find God and harder for me to listen to and follow His invitations.
My wife, sensing this, had a strong impression that we were not to leave Ricks College. I said, “That’s good enough for me.” But she insisted, wisely, that I must get my own revelation. And so I prayed again. This time I did receive direction, in the form of a voice in my mind that said, “I’ll let you stay at Ricks College a little longer.” My personal ambitions might have clouded my view of reality and made it hard for me to receive revelation.
Thirty days after I was blessed with the inspired decision to turn down the job offer and stay at Ricks College, the Teton Dam burst nearby. God knew that dam would burst and that hundreds of people would need help. He let me seek counsel and gain His permission to stay at Ricks College. He knew all the reasons that my service might still be valuable at the college and in Rexburg. So I was there to ask Heavenly Father frequently in prayer that He would have me do those things that would help the people whose property and lives had been damaged. I spent hours working with other people to clear mud and water from homes. My desire to know and do His will gave me a soul-stretching opportunity.
That incident illustrates another way we can create a barrier to knowing God’s will or feeling His love for us: we can’t insist on our timetable when the Lord has His own. I thought I had spent enough time in my service in Rexburg and was in a hurry to move on. Sometimes our insistence on acting according to our own timetable can obscure His will for us.

When a guy I was dating opened up to me about his addiction to pornography, the first thing I said was, “How can I help?”
He replied, “Come with me to the addiction-recovery meetings. There is a support group for family and friends that you can attend.”
I knew about the 12-step addiction recovery program, but I had no idea there were support groups. I was a little hesitant at first, but I reminded myself that I had asked him how I could help, and this was what he asked of me.
During the first meeting, I took a deep breath and walked to the room where the support group was meeting. When I entered the room, I felt ready to learn how I could save my boyfriend from his addiction.
But I was surprised at what I discovered.
They handed me a book, Support Guide: Help for Spouses and Family of Those in Recovery, and we read aloud from the book during each class.
Not once did I learn how I could save my boyfriend.
Instead, the support guide’s 12 lessons showed me that before I could support anyone else, I first needed to lay down my burdens at the Lord’s feet and allow Him to heal me (see 3 Nephi 9:13)—to heal me from my own faults and struggles and to bear my pain of supporting a loved one recovering from addiction.
I realized that I needed to rely on and turn to the Savior to find peace, hope, and strength. And because of that, I feel much better equipped in being able to support others who face addictive or compulsive behaviors.
“Our priority must be to personally draw closer to the Lord,” the support guide says. “… This will place us in a better position to support our loved ones. No matter what they may choose to do, the peace and hope of the Savior can be with us” (Support Guide: Help for Spouses and Family of Those in Recovery [2017], iii).
As I continued to attend the course, I learned how much the Savior loves me and how He truly knows my situation. I also learned how no addiction will ever alter how much He loves any one of Heavenly Father’s children.
But I think the most important lesson I learned while attending the support group is I can’t save my boyfriend (or anyone else). Only Jesus Christ can. Through His atoning sacrifice, He has the power to save.
I’m extremely grateful that He is our Savior, for He knows how to perfectly succor us (see Alma 7:11–12). As we trust in His grace, I know that we will receive what is necessary for our personal healing. We will be buoyed up by Him and will be more able to support our loved ones who face addictions.
Because of the support group and ARP classes, my boyfriend felt comfortable telling me when he felt triggered because he knew I wasn’t there to judge but to love and support him in his efforts. His journey of struggle is not over yet, but I saw the improvement and change that the principles from these classes made in both of our lives. And I felt the hand of the Lord continually.

Have you ever been to a restaurant where some of the food items on the menu are unfamiliar? In 2018, my wife and I went to a restaurant in Osaka, Japan. The menu had many options, most of which were unfamiliar and strange to us. One person in our group chose calamari (squid). But I did not like calamari, so I chose something else. Everyone selected something different from the menu. We all enjoyed our meals because we each chose a dish that appealed to us.

You do not need to eat calamari unless you like it. (By the way, after sampling excellent Japanese calamari, I have come to like it.) You can choose to invite others to learn about the gospel of Jesus Christ in ways that are comfortable and natural for you, using your own talents and abilities. Over time you may find that the range of things that are comfortable expands.

Melvin Mouse jumped out of bed. “It’s morning,” he said. “Sleep’s done. I’m going to play with my ball today. I’m going to throw it and roll it and bounce it off the wall. That’s what I’m going to do today.”
Melvin pattered downstairs to eat the seeds and bread crusts Mama and Papa Mouse had ready for his breakfast. Then he went to find his ball. Was it in his closet? Was it on his rocker? Was it under his bed?
“It’s gone!” cried Melvin Mouse. “Where is it? Did someone take it?”
“Come, Melvin,” said Mama Mouse. “Stop and think. When was the last time you played with your ball? Where did you have it?”
“Think hard, Melvin,” urged Papa Mouse. “That’s what you must do.”
Melvin thought hard and finally he remembered. Yesterday he had played with his ball on the lawn by the house. He had rolled and kicked it to his favorite places. Now he knew where to look.
Melvin pushed his way through the grass to the stump of an old oak tree. Robin Redbreast was pecking at the stump, hunting for grubs. “Have you seen my ball?” Melvin asked the robin. “It’s round and smooth and has red stripes on it.”
Robin Redbreast twisted his head to look around. “No, I haven’t seen your ball,” he chirped. “But I’ll keep my eyes open for it.”
“That’s very kind,” said Melvin Mouse. He darted through the grass to a tall pine tree he liked to visit. A soft bed of old brown needles lay under it. The tree’s bottom branches tickled the ground. And resting under the branches was a young brown rabbit. She wiggled her nose at Melvin Mouse.
“Have you seen my ball?” Melvin asked the brown rabbit. “It’s round and smooth and has red stripes on it.”
The rabbit hopped to the left and to the right. She sniffed the pine-scented air. “Sorry. I haven’t seen your ball. It’s not in this bed of pine needles. Why don’t you sit and rest with me for a while?”
“Thank you,” replied Melvin Mouse, “but I’d better keep looking.” Melvin scurried through the grass to the porch steps at the back of his house. He was sure he would find his ball there!
The porch steps were old and creaky. Many feet had walked on them, and many things were lost under them. Just now a grasshopper came hopping down the stairs.
“Have you seen my ball?” Melvin asked. “It’s round and smooth and has red stripes on it.”
“I’ve been hopping around all morning, my friend, and I haven’t seen your ball. But let me take a peek under these old porch steps for you.”
The long-legged grasshopper hopped twice and landed on the ground, where a loose board allowed him to look under the steps. “Well,” said the grasshopper, “there’re a puzzle piece, a broken flowerpot, two pencils, and a bird’s nest with no eggs.”
“It’s no use!” cried Melvin Mouse. “My ball is lost. I thought hard, I remembered, and I looked where I played with it last. I even asked for help. But it’s lost, and I’ll never see it again.”
The morning breeze made Melvin shiver. He decided to warm himself in the flower bed in the front yard while he tried to think of something else fun to do.
He ran around the house to the flower bed. New flowers had pushed their way through the crumbly soil, and a yellow tulip stretched tall, aiming for the sun. As Melvin sat in a sunny spot and watched a pretty speckled butterfly on the tulip’s leaves, tears began to trickle from the little mouse’s eyes.
The butterfly saw Melvin’s tears and asked, “What’s the matter? Don’t you like spring?”
“Oh, I do,” said Melvin. “But I wanted to play with my ball today. It’s round and smooth and has red stripes on it. I’ve looked and looked, but it’s lost.”
“Round, smooth, red stripes? That’s a ball worth finding. Don’t give up. Think hard. Where did you see it last?” asked the butterfly.
Melvin Mouse tried one more time to remember. It wasn’t at the oak stump. It wasn’t at the pine tree. And it wasn’t at the porch steps. Those are my favorite places to play, Melvin thought. I played at each of them yesterday. Then I went home. I took my ball, and I … I … I put it away in my toy chest!
Melvin ran to the front door of his house. He hurried inside, scrambled up the stairs to his room, and lifted the lid of his toy chest. There was his ball! It was round and smooth and had red stripes on it, just as he remembered.
“I found you!” he shouted happily. “Now I’m going to roll you and throw you and bounce you off the wall!”
And he did.

I have always enjoyed nature and the outdoors. I grew up in Boise, Idaho, and one of my favorite things to do when I was out of school in the summer was to go to my aunt’s ranch. There I herded cows, rode horses, swam in the canal, and often slept in the haystack under the stars.
Oh, how I admired the boys and girls who lived on ranches and farms! They had opportunities that those of us who were raised in the city never had.
However, within a half mile of where I lived in Boise was a river that ran through the city. There was a wooded area there that I loved to go to after school or on Saturdays. My dog was my pal, and we went there together and sailed boats or made whistles out of willows. We watched the beavers make dams and the fish swim in the water. We watched the birds build nests and hatch their young.
As I grew older, I joined the local Boy Scout troop and enjoyed hiking and camping in the summertime with my friends. Many of these boys were in Primary with me. My mother was Primary president, and my younger sister, Dorothy, and I were regular attenders.
My father, however, was not a member of the Church, and when I had my eighth birthday, I was not baptized.
I did have a testimony, though. I knew that God lived. My mother had taught me to pray and to thank Heavenly Father for all the things that I enjoyed. I often thanked him for the beauty of the earth and for the wonderful times that I had at the ranch and by the river and with the Scouts. I also learned to ask him for the things that I wanted or needed.
I went to all the Church meetings and activities, but it wasn’t until I was twelve that I really missed not being baptized. By that time, all my friends had been ordained deacons. Because I wasn’t an official member of the Church, I wasn’t able to do many of the things that they did. Passing the sacrament and building a fire to warm up the meetinghouse were only two of the responsibilities that I watched my friends do without me.
So my sister and I began coaxing our father to allow us to be baptized. We also prayed that he might say yes. We were overjoyed when he finally gave his consent, and I was baptized when I was thirteen years old. A whole new world opened up to me as I learned the responsibilities of being a member of the Church and holding the priesthood.
I’m grateful for the influence of the Church in those early years and for my mother’s teachings. Even though I wasn’t baptized until later than many children, I knew that God loved me and listened to me.

Once when Ryan was giving a talk at an elementary school, one student asked him how it feels to be handicapped. Ryan answered by asking, “Well, how does it feel to be human?” What Ryan couldn’t say in that particular situation was that the Church has really helped him. “I think a lot of disabled people get preoccupied thinking, ‘I can’t do this, and my life is just going to be a waste.’ Isn’t it 1 Samuel 16:7 that says the Lord looks not on the outer appearance, but on the heart? That’s rather important to me.” [1 Sam. 16:7]