Gospel Story Finder

I remember when I was about 16 years old overhearing Mom talking to Dad. She was concerned about some choices I was making. I was not guilty of any sin more serious than the immaturity of youth, but Mom was worried. What Dad said seared into my heart. “Don’t worry,” he said to Mom. “I trust Sharon, and I know she’ll do the right thing.” Those hours in the hayfield paid off then and there. From that moment on I was bound to those loving, trusting parents.

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.

Brothers and sisters, I have learned a painful lesson since I last occupied this pulpit in October of 2022. That lesson is: if you don’t give an acceptable talk, you can be banned for the next several conferences. You can see I am assigned early in the first session of this one. What you can’t see is that I am positioned on a trapdoor with a very delicate latch. If this talk doesn’t go well, I won’t see you for another few conferences.
In the spirit of that beautiful hymn with this beautiful choir, I have learned some lessons recently that, with the Lord’s help, I wish to share with you today. That will make this a very personal talk.
The most personal and painful of all these recent experiences has been the passing of my beloved wife, Pat. She was the greatest woman I have ever known—a perfect wife and mother, to say nothing of her purity, her gift of expression, her spirituality. She gave a talk once titled “Fulfilling the Measure of Your Creation.” It seems to me that she fulfilled the measure of her creation more successfully than anyone could have dreamed possible. She was a complete daughter of God, an exemplary woman of Christ. I was the most fortunate of men to spend 60 years of my life with her. Should I prove worthy, our sealing means I can spend eternity with her.
Another experience began 48 hours after my wife’s burial. At that time, I was rushed to the hospital in an acute medical crisis. I then spent the first four weeks of a six-week stay in and out of intensive care and in and out of consciousness.
Virtually all my experience in the hospital during that first period is lost to my memory. What is not lost is my memory of a journey outside the hospital, out to what seemed the edge of eternity. I cannot speak fully of that experience here, but I can say that part of what I received was an admonition to return to my ministry with more urgency, more consecration, more focus on the Savior, more faith in His word.
I couldn’t help but feel I was receiving my own personal version of a revelation given to the Twelve nearly 200 years ago:
“Thou shalt bear record of my name … [and] send forth my word unto the ends of the earth. …
“… Morning by morning; and day by day let thy warning voice go forth; and when the night cometh let not the inhabitants of the earth slumber, because of thy speech. …
“Arise[,] … take up your cross, [and] follow me.”
My beloved sisters and brothers, since that experience, I have tried to take up my cross more earnestly, with more resolve to find where I can raise an apostolic voice of both warmth and warning in the morning, during the day, and into the night.
That leads me to a third truth that came in those months of loss, illness, and distress. It was a renewed witness of and endless gratitude for the resolute prayers of this Church—your prayers—of which I have been the beneficiary. I will be eternally grateful for the supplication of thousands of people who, like the importuning widow, repeatedly sought heaven’s intervention in my behalf. I received priesthood blessings, and I saw my high school class fast for me, as did several random wards across the Church. And my name must have been on the prayer roll of virtually every temple in the Church.
In my profound gratitude for all this, I join G. K. Chesterton, who said once “that thanks are the highest form of thought; and … gratitude is happiness doubled by wonder.” With my own “happiness doubled by wonder,” I thank all of you and thank my Father in Heaven, who heard your prayers and blessed my life.

2. Invite the bishop to come to some of your youth activities. I can remember going on a campout when I was a bishop and falling asleep in the back of the bus. Somewhere there is a picture of me asleep with my mouth open and a wild flower placed inside. My own sons were part of the practical joke. We all grew closer together when the youth enjoyed some relaxing time with me. If the bishop knows how much you want him to be with you, he will try to find time to be part of your special activities.

I had just started my first job, and I loved it. On a particular day, not long after I started, a co-worker and I heard the bell telling us a customer had come in the door. It was a man, about 50 years old, who looked just like anyone else. The man walked about half the distance to our counter from the door before he pulled out a knife. He then walked very quickly to us and demanded money from the till.
Fortunately, he just took the money and ran. Even before he was out the door, I began to call the police. After hours of questions we finally left the police station. I thought about what had just happened as I drove home. I had been scared, but all I could think was, What happened in this man’s life that made him resort to breaking the law and putting innocent lives in danger? I wondered what his life was like.
The strangest part was that I kept wishing I could help this man. I kept asking myself if there was someone who could have helped him, who could have led him to think more about his choices in life. Then I began to think about all the people I knew. I wondered if there might have been someone who needed me, but I had not listened to the Spirit long enough to know it.
As all this was going through my mind, I had an overwhelming feeling. I prayed, first to thank my Heavenly Father for protecting me, but then to ask Him to bless the man who robbed our store. I asked Him to help the man find the happiness I have in my life. I knew Heavenly Father was the only one who knew how to help this man.
At that moment I realized how truly blessed I was to have the gospel. No matter what happens, I know I can turn to my Father in Heaven and He will help me. The gospel was a very special gift I had been taking for granted all my life.
I wanted to find the man who robbed the store and tell him about prayer and about the gospel. I wanted to tell him of the Atonement and of God’s plan for us. But I especially wanted to share my testimony of God’s love for all His children.
Even though this man put my life in danger, he is a precious child in Heavenly Father’s sight. He is one of His lost sheep. I felt then, and even now feel, a love for this man I do not know.

Brother Decker kept working with us each troop meeting. He taught us how to plan our own program, built up our enthusiasm with songs and games, and helped us with advancement. In September we had a Court of Honor where nearly everyone advanced a rank and over 50 merit badges were given. A district camporee followed soon afterwards, an overnight event held at Sugar Loaf Mountain on Sycamore Creek. Brother Decker let us set up camp just the way we wanted it. Our patrol leaders assigned boys to dig the latrine, rope off the wood-chopping area, make the grease pit, etc. It was a Boy Scout troop run by the boys!
Saturday was given to merit badge work. Brother Decker had classes on nature and was gone most of the day. At 3:00 P.M. we had our closing ceremony, and awards were given to the outstanding troops, with suitable prizes. There was one for the troop that showed the most improvement from last year, and others for similar things. When they were ready to announce the first-place winner, we glanced over and saw the prize sitting on the table, a dutch oven—just what we needed most in our troop equipment. And the winning troop was–756!

I had filled out a lot of job applications before I finally received a part-time offer at a restaurant. I was filled with gratitude for the job offer, yet for some reason, I began to feel uneasy about the job. As the time drew closer for me to start work, the feeling of uneasiness persisted. I decided to pray about the situation and include the Lord in my decision.
After I prayed, I felt that I shouldn’t accept the job. I wondered why I would be blessed with a job offer and then prompted by the Holy Ghost not to take it. I prayed multiple times to know what I was supposed to do. Each time I prayed about it, the same feeling continued to surface, stronger than ever.
Finally, I decided to contact the restaurant manager and explain that I wouldn’t be working there after all. Telling the manager my decision was very difficult because I still didn’t have a job and needed one, but I felt peace.
A few days later, I found out about another job. I applied for this job and was offered the part-time job not only for the remainder of the school year but also for the summer. If I had taken the first job at the restaurant, I wouldn’t have found out about this better opportunity. Choosing to include the Lord in my employment decisions and following spiritual promptings taught me valuable lessons and paid off in more ways than one.

Anthon stepped from his doorway onto the cobbled street, hesitated, and turned back to his wife—“the best in the land” he called her.
“Are you coming, Ibine?”
His wife stepped out of the doorway. She was wrapped in woolen scarves and a heavy coat. The February night was icy cold. Their destination was the seashore, a few blocks from their home. The children followed Ibine out the door. Thorvald and Astra were too young to be baptized but not too young to be excited for their parents. Only Anthon didn’t feel excited. He was quiet and pensive while walking along the clean-swept streets of Aalborg.
The night was very dark. The children cuddled close to their parents. The hand of tiny Thorvald squeezed his father’s, and pretty little Astra clung to Ibine. Anthon looked down at Thor and remembered his own childhood. He remembered the cows he had herded, the wooden shoes he had worn in winter, his own sister who had died in a terrible blizzard too far from home to get help. He remembered the worried look of his father who couldn’t support his family of nine during the mid-1800s war with Germany. He remembered working from 2:00 in the morning until 11:00 at night on a farm in order to help. He remembered crying in bed at night. “I wondered what I was sent on this earth for. I couldn’t see what good I was doing. All I could see ahead was endless work to no real worthwhile end.”
The frigid cold gripped Anthon’s face, and he wondered if the children or Ibine were uncomfortable. The chilling breeze made him think of glacier ice, and he remembered learning that ice-age glaciers had left his Denmark an undulating flatland so suited to farming and agriculture. He was grateful that at least a few years of formal education were mandatory—that his country believed in the virtues of learning and working. He saw ships’ masts in the harbor poking above the fields.
He and his family were nearing the place where they would be baptized. A sick feeling of loneliness hit him in his stomach. “My homeland, my forefathers, all that has been good to me—am I giving up their trust in me for a far-fetched religion sprouted in a distant, upstart country?”
Every member of the Mormon church who lived in Aalborg was there on the seashore, some holding lanterns. It was a small but cheery group. They sang hymns and smiled. But Anthon was still quiet. He looked into the faces of his beautiful children and wondered if he was doing what was right for them. He knew he would have to find a private school for them because the prejudice in the public schools against the few Mormon children was too much for such young children to bear.
The singing was over. A prayer was given to open the meeting. The missionaries asked a blessing on Brother and Sister Jensen that as they were baptized they would not fall ill from the freezing temperatures. A hole was chopped in the ice. The sacred ordinance was performed for both Anthon and his wife, Ibine. The two new members were welcomed with hugs and handshakes and sent quickly home to a warm fireplace. It was then that Anthon noticed something special—something unexpected. On their way home he found himself walking, almost skipping, with lightened step—his wife and children smiling at him all the way. The heavy burdens of worry had been lifted. He knew he had done the right thing, and above all he knew now that there was something important for him to do in life.
“I went to my former friend and minister the next day to bear him my testimony. I was so happy that I felt I could convert the whole world, and I wanted to,” he later recorded. “I wanted everyone to feel the peace and the joy that came with my baptism. And the most wonderful thing of all, I had an assurance that greater joys and greater knowledge were yet in store—not only for me but for my beautiful family.”

Still later, when I was in my last year at Auckland University Law School, I had one exam left to finish my degree. I was married with two children, working, and second counselor in a bishopric at the same time. So life was fairly busy, and I was looking forward to being done with college so some of the pressure would be gone.
At 9:30 in the morning, I went to the law library to get “warmed up” for the exam at 2:30 that afternoon. As I was sitting there studying, I looked around. I couldn’t see anybody from my class there, and I thought that was a bit unusual. The Spirit said to me, “Your exam is about to start.”
I thought, “That can’t be right, because my exam is at 2:30.”
I ignored what I had heard and carried on studying. Fortunately for me, about five minutes later the Spirit said, “Your exam has just started.” I didn’t wait for a third prompting.
I ran down to the basement of a building where a board displayed all the exam times. There it was: “Company Law, B-28, 9:30.” I met the two examiners coming off the lift—the elevator. I said, “I know I’m late; I have made a mistake. Can I still get in?” They let me in even though I was 40 minutes late for the three-hour exam. I sat down, my heart pumping. I looked at the questions and thought, “I can’t do any of this!”
So I said a silent prayer: “Heavenly Father, I’m grateful for Thy promptings. Forgive me for ignoring the first prompting, but please bless me now so that I can finish.”
Peace descended upon me. I looked again at the exam and thought, “Ah, I know that one,” and I started writing. I stopped writing when the examiner said, “Time to finish.” Later, when I found out I had passed the exam, all I could feel was gratitude.

How many LDS Explorer Scouts have been involved in a mutiny at sea, piloted a warship, and camped without water on a seaside desert? That’s what happened recently to several members of the Aaronic Priesthood quorums of the Panama District, Costa Rica San Jose Mission.
It started with a discussion about pollywogs, and it ended in a full-scale rebellion.
“Man, it was scary for awhile,” remembers teachers quorum president Ferron Coombs, 14. “They herded us all together and turned on some high-powered fire hoses. That cooled everything down in a hurry.”
The mutiny occurred aboard the USS Manitowoc (LST—1180), which was enroute from the Panama Canal to Ecuador to deliver donated medical supplies and equipment. The LDS young men were part of a group of 27 Canal Zone Explorer Scouts and seven adult advisers who made the voyage at the invitation of Rear Admiral Robert H. Blount.
The ship’s skipper, an Eagle Scout, invited the young men to participate in all shipboard activities, and the Explorers worked alongside the crew, chipping and painting, swabbing decks, splicing line, standing watches, and learning the intricacies of operating a modern naval vessel. Nicholas Kovalenko, second counselor in the Pacific Branch teachers quorum presidency, became an able helmsman.
“That was one of the most exciting things I “ll always remember about the cruise,” Nik says. “Once the ship’s crew saw that I had the knack of it and knew how to read the steering instruments, they let me steer the ship by myself. The longest single watch I stood at the helm was about three hours.”

I worked for a manager who I felt was rude and who hated me also. I, too, wanted to be Christian and have love for everyone, but there are some people that no matter what you do, they will still try to knock you down. In my case, I tried and tried to be as nice as possible. I did everything my manager asked and more, but she never was any nicer to me. Finally, I realized that it was impossible to make her happy, so I quit. Now that I am away from her, I am able to forgive her and genuinely feel sorry for her.
James Yoder, 20Belleville, Illinois

An example of this would be Dick Hammer, who came to Utah with the Civilian Conservation Corps during the Depression. He met and married a Latter-day Saint young woman. He opened Dick’s Café in St. George, Utah, which became a popular meeting spot.

Assigned as home teacher to the Hammer family was Willard Milne, a friend of mine. Since I knew Dick Hammer as well, having printed the menus for his café, I would ask my friend Brother Milne when I visited St. George, “How is our friend Dick Hammer coming?”

The reply would generally be, “He’s coming, but slowly.”

When Willard Milne and his companion visited the Hammer home each month, they always managed to present a gospel message and to share their testimonies with Dick and the family.

The years passed by, and then one day Willard phoned me with good news. “Brother Monson,” he began, “Dick Hammer is converted and is going to be baptized. He is in his 90th year, and we have been friends all our adult lives. His decision warms my heart. I’ve been his home teacher for many years.” There was a catch in Willard’s voice as he conveyed his welcome message.

Brother Hammer was indeed baptized and a year later entered that beautiful St. George Temple and there received his endowment and sealing blessings.

I asked Willard, “Did you ever become discouraged as his home teacher for such a long time?”

He replied, “No, it was worth every effort. As I witness the joy which has come to the members of the Hammer family, my heart fills with gratitude for the blessings the gospel has brought into their lives and for the privilege I have had to help in some way. I am a happy man.”

As newlyweds, my wife and I both were stubborn. We would disagree and argue about things that didn’t really matter, and it had worn down our relationship. Our marriage wouldn’t have lasted if we had kept going down the road we were on.
But making eternal covenants in the house of the Lord has made all the difference. Our temple covenants changed the focus from “me” to “we.” We learned to value our eternal relationship instead of focusing on our own needs as individuals. Eventually, we became “of one heart and one mind” (Moses 7:18), which vastly improved our course, connection, and communication.

Hanna twisted the dish towel and snapped it at the imaginary enemy in the middle of the kitchen. “Take that, Black Knight!”
Her friend Ashley leaned against the counter, holding her sides. “That towel makes a silly sword, but I’m sure you finished him off,” she laughed.
Hanna made a cape of the dish towel and put her foot on the imaginary evil knight.
Her mom peeked in. “Speaking of finishing things, girls, if you want me to drop you off at the skating rink, you’ll have to hustle. I’m leaving in ten minutes.”
Ashley jumped. “Let’s hurry.”
“Don’t worry,” said Hanna. “We’ll let the rest soak and drip dry.” She dumped the silverware and utensils into a bowl, squeezed in some soap, and turned on the tap. The mess was soon lost in bubbles. Hanna and Ashley turned over the clean, wet dishes and pots to dry.
“That looks better,” said Hanna. She doubted whether her mom would get angry in front of Ashley.
Hanna’s mom reappeared. She scowled at the dishes, but then smiled. “Well, let’s go.”
In the car, the girls talked about skating backward and about rounding corners on one leg. Hanna stopped in the middle of a sentence when her mom pulled to the curb, reached across their laps, and opened their door.
“What are you doing, Mom? We’re only halfway there. We’ll be late for our lesson.”
“I know,” said her mom.
Hanna looked confused, but Ashley tugged at her friend’s arm. “Come on, we’ll walk the rest of the way.” Then she thanked Hanna’s mom for the ride.
The car pulled away. Hanna stared at Ashley. “Why did you say thank you?”
“That’s just the kind of thing my mom would do. She calls it a ‘consequence,’” answered Ashley. “Remember, we only did half the dishes.”
“Yes, but we were counting on my Mom’s help,” objected Hanna.
“And she was counting on ours.”
“Now you sound like a parent,” Hanna said. She looked betrayed. “Consequence sounds like a fancy word adults would use instead of punishment.”
“In our family it isn’t. We have meetings where everyone decides what rules will make us a good family.” Ashley found it hard to explain. “Come to our family meeting tonight, Hanna. You’ll see what I mean.”
“Right after I do the dishes,” joked Hanna.
That evening Hanna cleaned up quickly. She was curious about family meetings. As she slipped through the gate that separated their yards, she thought about Ashley’s comments.
Ashley invited her in and told her that the family knew that she was there to watch. Then she led her to the kitchen, where the others had gathered. Beth, the oldest of the four children, had a notepad and pen. John was combing his hair, and Eric tapped the table edge as if it were a drum. Ashley’s mom and dad greeted her with smiles.
It doesn’t exactly look like a courtroom, thought Hanna. She took the empty seat and leaned forward.
After a prayer, John started. “Beth borrows my basketball and doesn’t let me know. I don’t mind sharing, but I’d like to be asked.”
“I know how you feel,” said Beth. “Ashley borrows my T-shirts without asking.”
Hanna waited for an argument to start.
“Sometimes we all forget to ask before we borrow. Let’s talk about consequences that would remind us to ask first,” Eric said.
“How about fifty lashes with a wet dish towel?” Ashley winked at Hanna. Everyone laughed. “Seriously,” she went on, “how about, whoever you borrow from gets to claim something of yours for a day?”
Everyone nodded. “That was easy,” said Beth, jotting down the decision.
“Here’s a problem that doesn’t seem simple,” said Ashley’s mom. “What should we do about people being late for dinner?”
“That seems easy to me,” snickered John. “The people who are on time get to eat it all.”
“That’s a consequence,” admitted Ashley’s dad. “But it’s too tough. We could keep a plate of food warm in the oven.”
“Then it would seem like my consequence,” said Mom, “especially if I want to clean up right after dinner.”
“The late person could have to settle for a cold sandwich,” suggested Eric.
“That doesn’t sound like a bad consequence to me.” Hanna wasn’t sure she should participate. Her face reddened. “I love peanut butter sandwiches.”
“Hanna is right,” said Dad. “Sometimes that consequence would seem more like a reward.”
“Mom did say that cleanup is harder if there are stragglers,” said Beth. “I think the consequence should involve cleanup.”
“That’s logical,” agreed John.
Mom smiled too. “How does this sound: anyone who is late for dinner will be responsible for putting away leftovers and clearing the table. And whoever misses the meal does the dishes alone.”
Everyone liked the idea. Beth added it to the family notebook.
“Does anyone else have a problem to work on today?” asked Dad.
“Just one,” said Eric. “I made a carrot cake and some cocoa. Now I have to find someone to eat them.”
“I think,” Hanna said, smiling at Ashley, “that we should get ready for an enjoyable consequence.”

Let me tell you the story of one man who sacrificed greatly to maintain his own financial integrity and honor.

In the 1930s Fred Snowberger opened the doors of a new pharmacy in northeastern Oregon. It had been his dream to own his own business, but the economic turnaround he had hoped for never materialized. Eight months later, Fred closed the doors of his pharmacy for the last time.

Even though his business had failed, Fred was determined to repay the loan he had secured. Some wondered why he insisted on repaying the debt. Why didn’t he simply declare bankruptcy and have the debt legally forgiven?

But Fred did not listen. He had said he would repay the loan, and he was determined to honor his word. His family made many of their own clothes, grew much of their food in their garden, and used everything they had until it was thoroughly worn out or used up. Rain or shine, Fred walked to and from his work each day. And every month, Fred paid what he could on the loan.

Years passed and finally the wonderful day arrived when Fred made the last payment. He delivered it in person. The man who had loaned him the money wept and with tears streaming down his face, said, “You not only paid back every penny, but you taught me what a man of character and honesty is.”

To this day, nearly 70 years after Fred signed his name to that note, descendants of Fred and Erma Snowberger still tell this story with pride. This act of honor and nobility has lived through the decades as a cherished example of family integrity.

When I was 17 years old, I knew my bishop was going to approach me in the near future and ask me about serving a mission.
While I grew up in a home with devout and active parents, I wasn’t yet fully committed to serving a mission. I went to church and prayed when asked, and sometimes I prayed on my own. I believed in the Church, but I didn’t yet know that it was true. I didn’t yet have my own testimony, and I didn’t feel that I could go and tell others to join the Church unless I could look into their eyes and say, “I know.”
So I decided to find out for myself whether the Church is true. I started with reading the Book of Mormon. However, when I finished reading the Book of Mormon, I didn’t feel any different from when I’d started reading.
One evening, I sat in my bedroom thinking, “How do I come to know?” To my mind came the impression that I should read the Joseph Smith story in the Pearl of Great Price. As I read Joseph’s story, I began to see that his story was the same as mine. Here was a young man who wanted to know which church was true and which he should join. There were many different voices and opinions on the subject of religion swirling around Joseph Smith.
That was how I felt.
As I read how Joseph Smith determined to ask God what was true and what he should do—and what happened to him as a result—I realized I needed to do the same. I needed to pray and ask God. Unlike Joseph Smith, I didn’t have a grove of trees to visit. I was living in a big city, in Long Beach, California, USA. The only quiet place I could go to was the quiet of my own bedroom.
So I closed the door, knelt at my bed, and put my face in my pillow. I offered what, for me, was my first real vocal prayer on this subject. I addressed Heavenly Father and humbly asked Him if He was really there, if Jesus Christ was really His Son, and if Joseph Smith had really seen the two of Them.
As I did so, I had an experience that just overwhelmed me. A feeling of love and peace fell upon me and completely consumed me. I was filled with deep spiritual knowledge. In that moment, I knew—and have known ever since—that there is a God in heaven and that He is my Father. I knew that Jesus Christ is His Son, who atoned for me and all mankind, and that Joseph Smith saw both of Them.
I also got something more that I hadn’t actually asked for: a knowledge that out of all the people on the earth, God knew and loved me.
Knowing that God was answering my prayer, and knowing that He loved me, caused me to weep.
This experience fundamentally changed my life. While I haven’t been perfect since this experience, I’ve tried very hard to live up to the knowledge I gained that day—that I was a son of God and that He loved me enough to speak to me in prayer. I moved forward with conviction to serve a full-time mission and did so. Afterward, I was married in the temple to a wonderful, worthy young woman, my wife now of 30 years. And I have tried to serve faithfully in all that God has asked me to do and to keep the covenants I have made with Him.
My whole life has been based on that revelatory experience and the knowledge that came to me as a 17-year-old young man.
Sometimes people will ask me, “You’re now a General Authority. What have you come to know about the Lord since becoming a General Authority?” I say that while I’ve come to know more, the spiritual knowledge I gained at age 17 remains among the most significant of my life.
The scriptures describe the Seventies as “especial witnesses” (D&C 107:25). I’ve had many revelatory experiences in my life, and all of them have added to what I know to be true. But if there’s one thing that qualifies me to be today an especial witness of the Savior, it is that witness which I received at age 17.
From this I say that youth can receive as much witness as a General Authority has. The reason I say this is because, for me, I received that witness in my youth. It has been the foundation of everything I’ve done since.

One night, I was at the grocery store with my mom. We saw a man in a wheelchair. He was shopping alone and had a full cart. My mom asked me if I wanted to help him unload his groceries. I said yes and went over and put all of his groceries on the checkout stand. After I finished, he offered to buy me a pack of gum. I said, “No thank you.” I felt very good inside. That was one of my best experiences ever.

Yanira Torres of El Salvador had seen better days. Her husband had left her, she was living with her parents, and she was unemployed and without income. To make matters worse, her young daughter was sick and required constant care.
As a member of the Church, she had heard about LDS Employment Resource Services—there was an office in San Salvador—but until her daughter’s health improved, she couldn’t look for a job, let alone accept a full-time position.
Although Yanira’s father, José, was unemployed himself and not a member of the Church, he offered to visit the LDS employment office and see what he could learn to help his daughter. “Maybe I can bring you something from the center that might be useful to you,” he said.
That decision would change his life.
José enrolled in the Career Workshop and began applying the principles he learned there. Within six months, he had not only found a great job in accounting, but he and his wife had been baptized members of the Church.
For her part, Yanira—after her daughter’s health improved—also applied what she learned at the center and found a job as a receptionist.

The second counselor spoke first. He talked about his childhood in a small Wyoming town and how he went out of his way to befriend a boy who had been rejected by all the other kids at school. He told us how, 20 years later, that friendless boy, now a successful man, came to him and thanked him for his kindness. He concluded his talk by quoting a scripture about the worth of souls and bearing his testimony of the gospel.

I never knew that becoming a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints would negatively affect my relationship with family members. I joined the Church two months after getting a new job. My first day attending church was the day a friend invited me to help her with her baby as she was going to be baptized.
The moment I stepped into the chapel, I felt peace, comfort, and joy in my heart, and I knew that I belonged here and that the search for the right church had come to an end. I started reading the pamphlets from a friend and later booked appointments with the missionaries and I got baptized after a couple of weeks of learning with the missionaries.
However, because my family has been staunch Anglicans, I hid my new identity of being a member of the Church until I read a scripture in Romans 1:16, which says that “I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ”. This scripture gave me a sense of direction, and I said to myself that I need not to be ashamed of the gospel if I have joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I started changing everything on my social media accounts to say that I am a member of the Church. Even though people contacted me about what they were seeing on the accounts, I proudly replied to each one that I have joined the Lord’s church and that I love it and I know that it is true.
Not long after, it was time to serve a mission. I received my call to the Ghana Cape Coast Mission. I proudly shared the news with my family, and they were happy for me, and I thought all was well with the family about my decision to serve. But a few days before mission, my family was still opposed to my decision and requested that I postpone my mission instead of leaving in December 2019, to go in 2020. It became evident that my family was unhappy with my decision to go on a mission. I knew that the God I serve lives, He knows me, and He had called me to serve Him and that the time is now or never.
I needed to make a choice between my family and my mission. I was stuck, but I prayed fervently and amidst all that was happening, I stood firm with unwavering and unshakable faith knowing that He can see me through those trying moments.
The Lord comforted me at that time, and I knew that I was not alone, and He was there for me. I felt at peace even though things had not been settled between me and my family and with less than 24 hours left, the family accepted my decision to go and serve and I was able to leave for my mission. My family has embraced my service and I am happily serving my mission with love and a cheerful heart, knowing that all things are possible with God if we look unto Him in every thought, fearing not and doubting not with faith that whatever you ask you will receive.
You either stand with God and are condemned by man or stand with man and are condemned by God. If you know the truth and you put your faith first, you can find joy in your challenges because of the Atonement of Jesus Christ. I know that faith can move mountains and make the impossible possible.