Gospel Story Finder

Examples of Living by Faith

Nephi
I love the story of Nephi and his quest to recover the plates of brass from Laban. As he receives his instructions from his father, he says simply, “I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded, for I know that the Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save he shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the thing which he commandeth them.” [9]
But his later statement is even more instructive. After declaring that he will “go and do,” he then gives this insight into his personal faith: “And I was led by the Spirit, not knowing beforehand the things which I should do.” [10] He moved forward in faith, he walked to the edge of his own light, and then took a few steps into the darkness, not knowing in advance what exactly would happen.

Joseph Smith
Another example is Joseph Smith. He, as prophet, and Martin Harris, as scribe, were in the early stages of translating the Book of Mormon and were making steady progress. They had a sizeable stack of manuscript pages when Martin begged Joseph to let him “borrow” the manuscript for a few days to show his skeptical wife. Joseph petitioned the Lord repeatedly, and eventually Joseph let Martin have the manuscript. Of course, as we know, Martin ultimately lost the 116 pages of the borrowed manuscript; and when he finally appeared at the Smith home to confess his error, he was in such a state of distress that Joseph jumped up and cried out, “Martin, have you lost that manuscript?”
“Yes,” Martin said. “It is gone, and I know not where.”
“Oh, my God, my God,” Joseph groaned, “All is lost!” [11]

Joseph came under serious condemnation from the Lord and went on to endure a severe chastisement for his failure to protect the translated record. The Lord speaking directly to him said:
You have transgressed the commandments and the laws of God, and have gone on in the persuasions of men.
For, behold, you should not have feared man more than God. . . .
. . . You should have been faithful; and [God] would have . . . supported you. [12]

This must have been an absolute crisis for Joseph. He must have been shattered by the loss and the subsequent rebuke. He must have felt tremendous guilt and sorrow. His world had come crashing down around him and, as he exclaimed to his mother, “all [was] lost.” For weeks and months, he struggled forward without the gift of translation and without a clear knowledge of when or whether he would ever translate again.

Yet, he continued forward in faith. He humbled himself, he tried to make amends, he sought to regain the gift of translation—but to no avail. Weeks and months went by. What joy he must have felt when, many months later, he received these words from the Lord:
Because you delivered up those writings which you had power given unto you to translate . . . , into the hands of a wicked man, you have lost them. And you also lost your gift at the same time, and your mind became darkened.
Nevertheless, it is now restored unto you again. [13]

He did not give up. He did not lose faith. He simply continued to move forward to the best of his ability until the gift of translation was again restored to him. Joseph Smith was a man of great faith.

Before joining the ward team, I didn’t know the other teammates very well, but as we played basketball together they quickly became my friends. In fact, all of Skip’s friends from church became my friends—the boys who played basketball and also the girls who were their age. I didn’t know how to dance, so after Mutual activities several of my new friends and I would go to someone’s basement and play old records while they taught me how to dance. I’m still not a good dancer, but they taught me enough so that I could impress Carolyn Lake, another Latter-day Saint girl. After my mission to the Gulf States, Carolyn agreed to marry me.

Layna Cahone ran lightly up the front steps of the house and into the living room. “Dad,” she called, “are you home?”
“In the kitchen.”
She went to the kitchen doorway. Her father stood by the stove, stirring something in a small pan. “I knew that you’d be too busy again to fix supper,” he said, “so I opened a can of soup.”
Layna felt a quick stab of guilt. She had thought having just herself and her father home would be rather enjoyable. Charles was in the service, and Mother had gone to help Anne with her first baby. Layna had promised that she’d see to it that her father had adequate meals and clean clothes, but she realized now that she’d been pretty lax.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get here earlier, Dad,” she told him, “but I was talking to Debbie and forgot the time. You want toast with your soup?”
“Never mind, dear, but it would be nice if you would—”
“Oh, good grief,” she cried, “just look how late it is! I’m supposed to be at a meeting—decorating committee for the dance. May I take the car?”
He inclined his head slightly toward the hook behind the door where the car keys hung. Hurrying out, Layna thought briefly that her father must have had an especially tiring day. The lines around his mouth appeared deeper than usual, and his skin looked gray.
For a moment Layna paused with her hand on the car door. She really should go back and at least fix him dessert; but then, remembering the confusion in the school auditorium—decorations half finished, no decision made on the music—she climbed into the car and drove away.
Darkness had fallen before she reached home again. All the windows were dark. Wondering where her father could have gone, Layna turned on the kitchen lights. His soup, uneaten, was on the kitchen table. A cold chill went through her.
“Dad?” She flipped on a lamp in the living room. Her father lay on the couch. His hands, clenched into fists, were on his chest and his eyes were closed. Layna ran to him and bent down, realizing at once that he was fighting desperately to breathe.
“Oh, Daddy,” she cried, “what is it? What’s the matter?”
His eyes opened. “Heart,” he gasped hoarsely. “Doctor—”
Layna rushed to the phone, grateful that emergency numbers were written down, because her fingers shook so badly she had trouble dialing the doctor’s home number. She breathed a silent prayer of thanksgiving when Dr. Shannon, answering, said, “An ambulance will be there in just a few minutes. I’ll meet you at the hospital.”
But even though she knew that little more than fifteen minutes had passed before she and her father were speeding toward the hospital, Layna hadn’t known a stretch of time could be so agonizingly long. She looked at her father, lying half conscious on a stretcher, telling herself over and over, “I wouldn’t know what to do if my father died.” What would life be like without the good, quiet man whose gentle strength had supported her every day of her life? She knew that a world without him would be not only empty but frightening.
At the hospital her father was wheeled down a long, busy corridor. After she could no longer see him, Layna stood, not knowing what to do, until a nurse came to ask if she could register for her father at the front desk.
In the office a woman asked, “Does your father carry insurance?” and Layna remembered the card he carried in his wallet.
“I’ll have the orderly get it and bring it to you,” the lady said.
The sight of the wallet, handed to her a few moments later by a young man in a white coat, made Layna intensely aware of the seriousness of her father’s condition. She took the wallet, feeling the soft leather, worn smooth, and after giving the woman the necessary information, she went to call her mother, who assured her that she’d be there by morning. Then she sat in the waiting room, holding the wallet tightly, as though she could gain comfort from something that was his.
Thinking of how many important things the wallet held, Layna remembered a picture that she knew her father had carried for a while—a snapshot of herself and Charles and Anne taken in the mountains one summer. Wondering whether the picture was still there, she opened the wallet. As she did so, a tightly folded piece of paper fell out.
Absently she unfolded it. As she read the brief paragraph, she knew with a stabbing sense of her own failure that a letter she had seen in a newspaper the week before, one that had touched her, had also been seen and saved by her father.
She read the clipping again: “I have lived nearly fifty-five years and have worked hard to care for my family. My children have all they need. Why can’t they see me as a person who loves them and needs their affection? I’d gladly give every cent I have if my son or one of my daughters would only take my hand and say, ‘I love you, Dad.’”
Layna folded the clipping carefully as tears streamed down her cheeks. Oh, Daddy, she thought, don’t die. I want a chance to say what I’ve been too thoughtless to say to you all these years.
Slowly the hours passed. Layna rested, eyes closed, remembering many little things about her father, such as the day when she was in her early years at school and had complained because he absentmindedly took steps that were too long, and then how, smiling, he had shortened his stride to fit hers. She thought about one of her birthdays; he had come home from work looking a little sheepish because the stuffed tiger he’d bought for her was too big to wrap.
She remembered big things, too, like the time she’d had her appendix out and had awakened to see her father sitting beside her bed. She had known immediately that she’d be all right. She thought of the nights when she’d gone on dates and he had told her, “I know we can trust you.”
Just then Dr. Shannon came into the room. Jumping up, Layna ran to him. He put his hand on her arm.
“Everything’s fine, Layna,” he assured her gently. “Your father’s resting.”
After drawing a shaky breath, Layna asked, “Can I see him?”
The doctor nodded. “Yes, but just for a minute.”
Slowly, feeling almost shy, Layna entered the room where her father lay on a high, narrow bed. How strange, she thought, to see him so quiet, this big man who was always busy and interested. His face was white, but the worry lines on his forehead seemed eased, his eyes composed.
Pulling a chair close to the bed, Layna sat down. She looked at her father and smiled, then covered his strong, work-worn hand with hers.
“Daddy,” she said softly, “I love you.”

President Hinckley goes on to say:
I think of two friends from my high school and university years. He was a boy from a country town, plain in appearance, without money or apparent promise. He had grown up on a farm, and if he had any quality that was attractive, it was the capacity to work. He carried bologna sandwiches in a brown paper bag for his lunch, and swept the school floor to pay his tuition...She was a city girl who had come out of a comfortable home. She was wholesome in her decency and integrity...Something wonderful took place between them. They fell in love. Some whispered that there were far more promising boys for her, and a gossip or two noted that perhaps other girls might have interested him...Now many years have passed. Their children are grown, a lasting credit to them, and to the communities in which they live...Forty years earlier, people without understanding had asked what they saw in each other...But these two found in each other love, loyalty, peace, and faith in the future. There was a flowering in them of something divine, planted there by that Father who is our God.

I do not sing well. In fact, one of my teenage friends used to stop singing when we sat together in church so that everyone would know the musical mistakes were mine and not hers. But in one ward, I was really needed as part of a small group singing for stake preparation meeting. While we sang that day, I realized for the first time what it means to sing praises to the Lord. Although I still do not sing well, because of practice in Relief Society I have experienced a happiness I might otherwise never have known.

One young woman found that attending home, family, and personal enrichment meeting greatly helped her with the transition to Relief Society. “When I was in Young Women, our Relief Society invited the Laurels to attend,” says Vicky Hacking of the Pleasant Hill Ward, Orlando Florida South Stake. “They regularly had a craft class that pertained to us. Sometimes we had a class for mothers and daughters. This helped me feel like I could fit in and made me want to attend Relief Society when I turned 18.”

In July 2001, Hoi Hoon was invited by the Hong Kong government to perform with other prominent gymnasts in the Chinese Gymnastic Gold Medalist Show. Then age 8, Hoi Hoon was the youngest participant.
All of the gymnasts were asked to attend a final rehearsal the Sunday before the performance. The Tam family knows it is important to keep the Sabbath Day holy, so Brother Tam told Hoi Hoon’s coach that Hoi Hoon would attend every other rehearsal—but not the one on Sunday. The coaches and officials were upset and thought about replacing Hoi Hoon with another boy. The Tam family would not change their minds, but they prayed every night in their family prayer that Hoi Hoon would be able to perform. In the end, the officials allowed him to be in the show. Even without the extra practice, Hoi Hoon did every movement perfectly. “I know that obeying the Lord is very important,” Hoi Hoon says.

You’re listening to a talk from general conference on your MP3 player while you walk to school. A friend asks what you’re listening to. You tell her the truth—you’re listening to the words of a living prophet of God. “What does that mean?” your friend asks. You explain about modern prophets and apostles and then ask your friend if she would like to join you in April to hear what those leaders are saying.

“You want me to what?” Jason asked.
“Go without eating or drinking for a day,” Amanda said.
“Are you crazy?”
Amanda never got too excited by Jason’s complaints. The two of them had become good friends when they were in a play together at school. When he found out she was a member of the Church, he started asking a lot of questions. Finally, she got him to take the missionary lessons. A month later, he had been baptized.
“It’s called fasting,” she said. “It’s something we do once a month.”
“You people just keep after a guy, don’t you? At first it was ‘Just listen to the missionaries. It’s only six lessons.’ I agreed to that. And then it was ‘Just read a few pages of the Book of Mormon.’ And I went along with that. And then it was ‘Don’t use alcohol, tobacco, coffee, and tea.’ And I went along with that. And then it was ‘Go to church every Sunday for three hours.’ And then it was tithing. And then it was ‘Get baptized.’ And I went along with that. But now it’s, ‘Don’t eat.’ This time you’ve gone too far.”
She smiled. “Poor baby.”
“I’m serious. Eating is number one on my list of favorite things to do.”
“There are blessings for fasting.”
“Blessings? What possible good thing can come from not eating?”
“All I’m asking you to do is just try. There’s more to fasting than not eating or drinking.”
“More? Do you give blood too?”
“I meant not eating is only a small part of what fasting is all about,” Amanda said.
“Not eating will never be a small part of anything. I like to eat, okay?”
“I’ve noticed. Just try it one time. You’ll see. I’ll help you get through it.”
Jason sighed. “All right. You win. You always win.”
“Is that why you got baptized?”
“No.”
“Why then?”
He became unusually serious. “I found out that what the missionaries were telling me was true.”
“You can get the same kind of testimony about fasting.”
The next Saturday was the first weekend of the month. Amanda invited Jason to lunch with her family. It would be their last meal before they began fasting.
After everyone else had left, Jason was still at the table. She watched him eat another slice of bread and jam, then drink another glass of milk. “Done now?” she asked.
He looked around the room. “You got any candy? A cookie? Maybe some ice cream?”
“Jason, we’ve already had dessert.”
“That was ten minutes ago.” He looked in her fridge but didn’t see anything he wanted. “I guess I’m ready.”
“Okay. Fasting is more than just going hungry. There’s a spiritual side to it too. So usually I like to have a prayer when I start. Most of the time I just go in my room and say my own prayer, but maybe today we could say a prayer right here. Is that okay?”
As soon as their prayer was over, Jason said, “Did you know there was an ice cream bar in your freezer?”
“Too late. We’ve already started.”
“That’s it for 24 hours?”
“That’s right. We’ll eat after we get home from church tomorrow.”
He looked at his watch. Two minutes had passed. “I’m not going to make it.”
At two o’clock Jason went home. At seven-thirty that night he came back. “This isn’t working out.”
“What happened?”
“I mowed the lawn. It was so hot out. I went to get something to drink and then I remembered I’m fasting. So I didn’t have anything, but now my mouth feels like it’s stuffed with cotton.”
“Oh, I should have told you. I usually do things like that before I start fasting. Sorry. Next time you’ll know.”
“There’s not going to be a next time. This is too hard. Besides, my aunt is staying with us for the weekend. Since I didn’t eat I had to tell her why.”
“What did you say?” Amanda asked.
“I said I was fasting. She said she knows a good psychologist. I had to get away from her for a while.” He looked at his watch. “Just 18 hours to go and then I will be able to eat.”
“Jason, I found a scripture for you to read about fasting. It’s in the Doctrine and Covenants. ‘Verily, this is fasting and prayer, or in other words, rejoicing and prayer’” (D&C 59:14).
Jason shook his head. “Let me tell you—fasting is not rejoicing.”
“It can be.”
“How?”
“We have a physical side and a spiritual side to us, right?” she said.
“Okay.”
“Usually the physical side is dominant, but when we fast, it gives our spiritual side a chance to show itself. So instead of thinking about what you’re giving up, try to get closer to Father in Heaven. Maybe there’s some encouragement he wants you to have. Listen with your spiritual side.”
“How do I do that?”
“That’s one of the reasons I read the scriptures and pray and go to church and seminary—to find out what message Heavenly Father might have for me.”
“If somebody wants to get a message to me, all they have to do is put it on a cereal box. I always read those. Speaking of cereal …”
“When I fast, I like to read the Book of Mormon and my patriarchal blessing. And I like to write in my journal.”
“Sounds boring.”
“Not to me. The way I look at it, life is like a rough game and fasting is like calling time out so you can rest.”
“Usually during a time out, the players get Gatorade.”
“Jason, c’mon, get your mind off food.”
He fell to the floor as if he were about to die. “I’m not going to make it, Amanda. You go on without me.”
“Go home, Jason. Spend some time with yourself. Think about your life.”
Jason went home and, because every TV commercial was about food or drinks, he decided the only way he was going to get through the night without eating was to go to bed early.
The next morning he met Amanda in the hallway before church started.
“This is the best part of fasting,” she said just before sacrament meeting began.
Somewhere during the meeting he realized he didn’t feel the same urgency to eat as he had the night before. He was still hungry, but he felt like he could get by until church was over. He thought maybe Amanda was right and that his spiritual side was now a little stronger than normal. He appreciated the testimonies of people who told how Heavenly Father had answered their prayers.
Amanda brushed by him on her way to the stand. She went to the podium and began to speak. She said she was proud of Jason for having the courage to be baptized, and this was the first time he had ever fasted, and how proud of him she was that he was willing to do that. She talked about how much she loved her family. Then she said, “My dad once told me when we give our testimonies we should always talk about how the Savior has blessed our life. I’m grateful to know he died for my sins. I know that someday I’ll see him.”
Jason, listening to Amanda, felt tears in his eyes. He was wiping his eyes with his hand when Amanda’s mother leaned over and handed him a tissue. He nodded and wiped his eyes.
When Amanda sat down, she reached over and touched his sleeve. “Now it’s your turn.”
Jason thought about it. He did have something to say. He felt he had made the right decision in being baptized. Now he had something to hold on to. He was just about to stand up when the bishop announced the closing song and prayer.
“Next month, okay?” Amanda whispered.
The other meetings he attended that day seemed even better than usual. Jason knew it was because he was fasting.
And then church was over. “Well, what do you think?” Amanda asked as they walked out to her family’s car.
“It wasn’t too bad actually.”
“You want to try it again next month?” she asked.
“Yeah, I think I will.”
Jason went home. His aunt was busy in the kitchen. “I made you spaghetti and garlic bread,” she said, looking worried.
“That’d be great.”
“The boy’s going to eat something,” his aunt called to the rest of the neighborhood. “I knew my spaghetti would bring him to his senses.”
Jason sighed. Someday he would try to explain all this to his family.
As he ate with his family, everything tasted better than he had ever remembered. He kept telling his aunt how wonderful the food tasted.
When he was finished eating, he felt wonderful. It surprised him, but he looked forward to fasting next month. The scriptures are right after all, he thought. Fasting is rejoicing.
On his way to Amanda’s house, he wondered if the ice cream bar was still in her freezer.

Several years ago I became acquainted with a family who made some wonderful changes in their lives, and it all came about because of the faith of their eleven-year-old daughter.
The father of this family was a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. However, some of his habits kept him from being active, and the mother was not a member of any church. Neither parent cared which church, if any, their daughter attended.
By the time she was eleven years old, she had been to a number of different churches in the community. Then one day she went to a Latter-day Saint Sunday School, and her life changed.
Every week after that this girl was in her Sunday School class where she learned all she could about the gospel. It was there that she began to understand the importance of asking a blessing on food and also why members of the Church fast one Sunday a month.
Soon her family was blessing the food before each meal and the parents knew that their daughter felt it was important not to eat breakfast on Fast Sunday.
One morning, however, the girl forgot it was Fast Sunday and ate the delicious breakfast her mother had prepared for the rest of the family. When she came home from meeting that day, she cried, “Oh, Mother, why didn’t you tell me that today was Fast Sunday?”
The mother didn’t understand much about fasting but she was so touched by her daughter’s deep concern and by her tears that she wanted to know more about the purpose for fasting.
The girl was able to explain the importance of the principle of fasting to her. She also told her mother many things about other principles of the gospel and how much the Church meant in her life.
All of this was amazing to the mother who asked her daughter’s forgiveness for not realizing how important it was to observe the fast. Then she prayed to the Lord that He, too, might forgive her.
The more the mother thought about what her daughter had told her, the more impressed she felt to learn more about the gospel. She began attending Sunday School and sacrament meeting with her daughter and young son.
The missionaries were soon invited to come into their home to teach the family. Before long the mother and her daughter were ready for baptism and the father had become active and worthy to perform this sacred ordinance. Later, when their son turned eight, the father baptized him.
In time the father was set apart as a counselor in the branch presidency. On the parents’ fifteenth wedding anniversary, the family was able to go to the Los Angeles Temple where they were married for time and all eternity and their children were sealed to them. It was a glorious day for this family.
How true are the words of the prophet Isaiah, “… and a little child shall lead them.”

Before I joined the Church, my life was full of unhappiness. Following my parents’ divorce when I was seven years old, my father went to prison. My mother was an alcoholic and lost everything that was important to her. I was sent to live with a foster family.
Because of these things, I grew up a lot faster than many of my peers. I never quite felt that I could find my place, and consequently I was constantly in a state of rebellion. When I was still very young, I began smoking and doing other things that I now understand are contrary to the Word of Wisdom. I was certain I was doomed to fail in life.
The one thing I did find happiness in was helping people—whether it was cleaning alongside them or listening to their life stories. I desperately wanted people to know they could depend on me. One year I went on vacation and met an elderly woman I decided to serve by listening to her. She was a Christian and started to talk to me about religion.
I had never really believed in God. At times, when I had thought that maybe He existed, I blamed Him for the troubling things I had experienced. But as this woman described the importance of faith in God, I found myself intrigued. Before I left, she said something that was particularly interesting: “The Mormons follow God’s commandments.”
I had never heard of the Mormons, so I went home, got online, and searched. I arrived at Mormon.org and ordered a free copy of the Book of Mormon. Missionaries delivered it a few days later.
I wasn’t sure I could start to believe in God, but the missionaries helped me discover that I could not only believe in Him but also know Him. As I began to pray and study the Book of Mormon, I found myself on a beautiful journey of finding happiness. I quit smoking. I stopped blaming God and started thanking Him for the good things in my life. I came to know that His Son had suffered for my sins and for all the pain I had ever felt. On October 28, 2007, I was baptized into His Church.
If I hadn’t personally experienced the change from disillusionment to happiness, I wouldn’t believe it is possible. Today I love my calling in Primary and am grateful to have had the opportunity to help organize a service project at a young single adult conference in Poland. To be able to regularly help others through Church service has added to the happiness I have found in the gospel of Jesus Christ. Everything I do now, I do with pure love because of Jesus Christ. I believe that life is beautiful and that even when we have challenges, if we follow the Savior, we won’t be lost.
The woman I met was right: having faith in God is crucial. We cannot find our place in this world if we don’t know Him. I am grateful to finally have a place where I know I belong.

Let me take you to my native Finland, known for her countless blue lakes and white snow; a beautiful land of light in the summer and darkness in the winter. With endless white summer nights and long dark winter days, coming home for supper, when the sun went down, was not a particularly useful rule for my mother to give us children. If we had followed that advice, we would have stayed home all day in the winter and outside all night during the summer. My mother was a chemist and her explanations had a scientific foundation. She taught us how to read different shades of light and darkness to tell time. She explained how to observe nature to know what time dinner was ready, or when we had to return home to sleep. Before we were given watches, we could tell time based on the sights and sounds of nature surrounding us.

We also learned to work while the days were light and get ready for the long period of darkness that always followed the pleasant summer days. Our storage of food and supplies, a safe home, and fun memories, gave us faith and peace. We knew that it didn't matter if the sun was behind clouds, because eventually, there would be a break. Moments of glorious sunlight made the darkness of winter bearable and kept hope alive that spring would surely come, followed by another summer with its long days of light.

Today Finns have a saying: "There is no cold weather, just poor clothing." However, when I was born, Finland was still paying war reparations to Russia and was rebuilding the country after three devastating wars. I can't remember lacking anything as a child, but there were times when I was cold, even though I had the very best and the prettiest clothing available. My mother will turn 86 years in two days, but when she was younger, she walked fast, held her head high, and scanned the sky above the treetops. She was always aware of her surroundings. She recently told me that she was looking for possible air attacks and other dangers. Fear of war was ever present in the minds of her generation, but she never showed that fear to me.

I only remember the beauty of the Northern Lights above trees, the sound of cold, crunchy snow under my feet, and joyful laughter as we watched nature's display of colors and movement. Running to imitate the dancing Northern Lights on the black sky soon left my body warm and my heart filled with delight. I learned to take "heart photographs" - to capture images and memories so vividly in my mind that when the dark days of life came with trials and disappointments later on, I could just close my eyes for a second and happiness filled my heart instantaneously.

Standing and waiting for a bus was a different story. If there were any signs that I was cold, Mother's instructions were short: "Turn Your Face and Feet to the Light."I obeyed and tried to find the sun. In the process, I turned my back to the bitter north wind to feel the sun's warm rays. Soon this behavior became automatic. I just watched adults who stood towards the light, moved to keep the circulation going, and I was never cold again.

The following story is about kindness. I felt inspired to ask a few former students about their experiences at BYU–Hawaii. I am very thankful to Cooper Johnson for providing me with a lot of information about his experience here, and I am focusing on just a small part of his story to emphasize the kindness that he experienced as a student. These are his words: “The teachers, students, staff, and community members all seemed to care about my well-being, even if we had never met before. People I didn’t know smiled and waved as I walked across campus. I learned that being kind to others was a way of life. I felt a built-in support network from the moment I got there.” Later on, in his message to me, he said, “Several months after I got to Hawaii, I felt a legitimate need to get a car. I prayed for help finding an affordable car in decent condition. I promised the Lord that I would show kindness and help others if I could have my needs met. The Lord blessed me. A friend of mine helped me find a car salesman that sold me a car in great condition and a very low price. In turn, I kept my promise while I was on the island. I picked up people walking in the rain, regularly gave people rides, helped people get to doctor’s appointments, and was the friend known for helping people go shopping on the other side of the island.” Cooper also mentioned how he was blessed through this experience. I appreciate this story for its simplicity and for how similar it is to the things that people do here every day.

A second experience concerns an elder serving in our mission, who gave this account of his conversion:
“During my first year in high school I became aware of a small group of fellow students who seemed to have a tightly knit bond of fellowship between them. They acted differently from the rest of the students. Their language was clean, their standards were high, even their appearance was different. They were not on drugs, and they did not smoke or drink. I admired them and tried to become acquainted with them.
“They were always having such a good time together, holding their own parties, dances, and other socials. I was told by someone that they belonged to the LDS church, but that did not matter to me. I still wanted to belong to their group.
“I hinted as much as I dared that I would like to attend some of their socials, but they didn’t take the hint. Finally in my senior year, I summoned the courage to ask them outright if I could possibly attend some of their socials, even though I was not a member of their church.
“Within a few weeks I was baptized into their church, and here I am now, about a year and a half later, on a mission for our church. When I see how difficult it is to find converts in the mission field, I wonder why these fellow students of mine found it so difficult to invite me to go with them.”

In the Book of Mormon, Lehi gives a blessing to each of his sons before he passes away that helps them to see their strengths and eternal potential. I am the youngest of eight children, and this past year I have been the only child at home for the first time. Not having my siblings close by and not always having someone to talk to has been hard for me. There have been nights when I have felt very lonely. I’m grateful for my parents, who have tried their best to help me. An example of this is when my dad offered to give me a priesthood blessing of comfort during a particularly challenging time. After his blessing, things didn’t change right away, but I was able to feel peace and love from my Heavenly Father and from my dad. I feel blessed to have a worthy father who can provide priesthood blessings whenever I need them and who helps me to see my strengths and eternal potential, just as Lehi did when he blessed his children.

When I was a little girl, creating artwork was one of the only things in my life that came naturally to me. It was something I loved and wanted to do, not something my parents had to bribe me to practice.
However, as a child, I suffered abuse that led to mental health challenges, including obsessive-compulsive disorder, anxiety, and depression. After these traumatic experiences, painting and drawing became more than just a hobby—it was how I channeled my feelings and coped with my anxiety in a healthy way. Mixing colors and then painting how I was feeling was one of the only things that helped me focus on the present and find peace.
The older I get, the more I realize that my mental and spiritual health are very connected. When I’m struggling with my mental health, I often feel distant from Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.
But Heavenly Father has provided us with so many resources to cope with our struggles. When I take the time to slow down, I am better able to connect to the Spirit and share Christ’s light with others.
Whether we realize it or not, most of us have coping mechanisms that we turn to when we feel anxious or stressed. Some of these might be positive, like using our hobbies and talents for good, exercising, practicing gratitude, or journaling to process big emotions.
But other coping skills might not be so helpful, like eating too much junk food, binge-watching TV, becoming obsessed with fitness routines, or even diving into harmful habits that can lead us down spiritually dangerous paths.
None of us are perfect at seeking support in our struggles. However, through my own mental health challenges, I’ve learned that we can use positive coping skills to connect us to Christ rather than to the world. And sometimes those coping skills can be found through our own talents, hobbies, and spiritual gifts!
For example, I have painted my entire life, but it wasn’t until I began combining my faith with my painting that I started to comprehend how Jesus Christ can help me through my mental health challenges.
In moments when I’m feeling lonely, I try to connect with the Savior through temple attendance, prayer, and scripture study. In addition, when I use my talents to connect with the Savior, I better understand what He offers us: peace, solace, hope, love, comfort, and redemption.
Bishop Gérald Causse, Presiding Bishop, spoke about using our talents to bless ourselves and others:
“Our contributions may be expressed through the creation of works of art, architecture, music, literature, and culture, which embellish our planet, quicken our senses, and brighten our lives. …
“… The Lord expects us to work diligently, as moved upon by His Holy Spirit, to grow, enhance, and improve upon the resources He has entrusted to us—not for our benefit only but to bless others. …
“… We should recognize that all is spiritual to the Lord—including the most temporal aspects of our lives.”
Your righteous creative outlets can help you draw closer to God. And through the healing power of Jesus Christ, miracles can happen.
As hard as my mental health struggles are, I am grateful for how often they remind me of my need for my Savior and Heavenly Father in my life.
I know that using our talents won’t always fix everything, but when I turn to the Savior first, I am reminded that Heavenly Father knows how I feel. One way He does this is by inspiring me to use my talents to serve others who are also struggling to find His light.
Sister Reyna I. Aburto, former Second Counselor in the Relief Society General Presidency, taught that “your struggles do not define you, but they can refine you. … You may have the ability to feel more compassion toward others. As guided by the Holy Ghost, share your story in order to ‘succor the weak, lift up the hands which hang down, and strengthen the feeble knees’ [Doctrine and Covenants 81:5].”
I have found that when I look outside myself and try to use my talents to share light, I feel the Savior’s light brighten my life too.
I encourage you to seek Heavenly Father and the Savior through spiritual habits. Find what talents and gifts you have that help you feel stillness and peace. For me, it’s been art.
I know you can do the same with your talents too.

While President David O. McKay served as prophet, seer, and revelator of the Church, he traveled over a million miles throughout the world. He enjoyed meeting with Saints in other countries, and he made friends for the Church among many government leaders.
On one trip in 1952, President McKay and his wife, Emma, were invited to visit with Queen Juliana of the Netherlands in the Soestdijk Palace. During that visit, the McKays showed how they were able to make friends without sacrificing their religious beliefs.
The queen had scheduled half an hour for the visit with President and Sister McKay. The President carefully watched the time. When the half hour was up, he politely thanked the queen and began to leave. “Mr. McKay,” she said, “sit down! I have enjoyed this thirty minutes more than I have enjoyed any thirty minutes in a long time. I just wish you would extend your visit a little longer.”
After more persuasion from her, he sat down again. At that point, a coffee table was wheeled in, and the queen poured three cups of tea, pushing one each to President and Sister McKay. When neither of the McKays began to stir their tea, the queen asked, “Won’t you have a little tea with the queen?”
President McKay politely explained that Latter-day Saints did not believe in drinking stimulants and that they believed tea to be a stimulant.
The queen was very surprised! “I am the queen of the Netherlands,” she said. “Do you mean to tell me you won’t have a little drink of tea, even with the queen of the Netherlands?”
To this, President McKay politely asked, “Would the queen of the Netherlands ask the leader of one million, three hundred thousand people* to do something that he teaches his people not to do?”
The queen smiled and sat back in her chair. “You are a great man, President McKay,” she told him. “I wouldn’t ask you to do that.”

Emily hurried into the Primary room with the other kids. She loved going to Primary! Ever since Mom was baptized a few weeks ago, Emily loved learning all she could about their new church.

One of the girls in her class waved. “Want to sit by me?” she asked.

“Sure,” Emily said. She smiled and sat down by her new friend. They listened to the piano music.

When it was singing time, Sister Seitz stood up. Emily scooted to the front of her chair. Singing time was her favorite.

“Good morning!” Sister Seitz said. “Today we are going to learn more about the plan of salvation.”

Emily scrunched her eyebrows. The plan of what? She didn’t think she’d ever heard of that before.

“Every one of you lived with Heavenly Father and Jesus in heaven before coming to earth,” Sister Seitz said. “And you were so happy to come here to earth!”

Emily felt a jump of excitement inside her chest. I used to live in heaven before I was born? she thought. And I knew Heavenly Father and Jesus?

Everyone started singing a song she didn’t know. The words were so beautiful!

“I lived in heaven a long time ago, it is true; Lived there and loved there with people I know. So did you.”

Emily had never heard anything about this before. She paid close attention to every word they sang.

“Heavenly Father loves you so much,” Sister Seitz said after the song. “That’s why He created His plan for you. And guess what? You wanted to follow His plan! That’s why you’re here on earth today.”

They sang another song. This one taught about following God’s plan. Emily’s excitement grew bigger and bigger. I chose to follow Heavenly Father’s plan! she thought. That made her so happy!

Next they sang “I Am a Child of God.” It was all about coming to earth and being born into a family. Emily felt warm and peaceful as she thought about her family.

After each song, Sister Seitz taught something new. Emily learned that heaven has three kingdoms and that the highest one is called the celestial kingdom.

After they sang the last song, Emily didn’t want to stop. “Is there more to the story?” she asked.

Sister Seitz pointed at a picture of the sun on the board. It was above some pictures of the moon and stars. The sun represented the celestial kingdom.

“That’s where things keep going and growing,” Sister Seitz said. “That’s where our Heavenly Parents want us to be.”

Emily could hardly stop smiling. I was alive before I came here, she thought again. She couldn’t stop thinking how amazing that sounded. And I can live with Jesus again!

After Primary, she ran up to Sister Seitz.

“Are we going to keep learning about the plan of salvation next week?” she asked.

“We sure can. Did you like it?”

“Yes! I don’t know why, but I felt in my heart that I did choose God’s plan before I came to earth. And I know that Heavenly Father really does love me!”

Sister Seitz gave Emily a huge smile. Her eyes were a little bit shiny.

“Yes, you did,” Sister Seitz said. “And yes, He does love you.”

The plan of salvation is also called the plan of happiness.

Learn more about it on page 24!

Emily bounced on her toes a little. “You know what?” she asked. “I’m going to live my life the best I can. I want to live with Heavenly Father and Jesus and my family in the celestial kingdom!”

Sister Seitz bent down and looked into Emily’s eyes. “Me too,” she said.

It had been a long time coming.
My brother and his wife finally felt confident enough to leave home without hiring a babysitter—sure that their oldest child, who was about twelve years old at the time, would be able to handle things on his own. With the younger children asleep in their beds, they left home for a nearby movie theatre with McKay in charge and armed with detailed instructions.
Imagine their panic when they returned home a few hours later, walked in the door, and smelled smoke.
They raced around the house checking on all the sleeping children, and then confronted McKay, who, unalarmed, was lounging on the couch reading. “Hey!” my brother said, “What’s going on? Don’t you smell that?” “Sure, I do,” he casually replied, “I looked around and didn’t see anything. And you know, it was kind of irritating at first, but you get used to it.” They later discovered the air conditioner had been turned on.
It was winter—thus the smoke and burning smell.

I could go on and tell of similar experiences with other General Authorities. Just before a recent general conference, we attended a luncheon at the Hotel Utah. Elder LeGrand Richards had recently undergone an operation and was walking with his cane. Elder Packer gave him his arm to steady him going down the steps and along the walk to the Church Office Building, matching his steps to those of Elder Richards in a show of affection. As we passed them, Elder Franklin Richards said, “Take good care of him, Elder Packer.” He replied, “I surely will. He’s precious.” And he is.