Gospel Story Finder

It all started with one girl who somewhat timidly started investigating the Church while in high school. When her friend started asking questions, she invited her to go to church with her. That girl then told another friend about the Church, and soon three girls were separately meeting with the missionaries. Touched by the Spirit at the baptism of one of those girls, two more friends started investigating the Church. You could call it the ripple effect, but to Tiffani Phillips, Catlin Nord, Sara Waddell, Christina Hatton, and Kristin Breinholt, the brief period between March 3 and June 4, 2007, remains nothing short of miraculous as all five of them joined the Church, one after the other.
They point to Tiffani as the one who first started formally investigating the Church. During her junior year of high school, she started dating an LDS boy. She began attending church with his family and eventually started meeting with the missionaries in his home. Gradually, she made some changes in her lifestyle. Her friends noticed, but they thought it would pass. But to Tiffani, it was no fad; her testimony had begun.
Though some friends were openly critical of Tiffani’s investigation of the Church, Catlin was genuinely curious. When Catlin started asking questions, Tiffani simply invited her to come to church and see for herself. Catlin left the meetings that first Sunday with a copy of the Book of Mormon and an appointment to meet with the sister missionaries. Catlin’s testimony grew steadily, and soon she wanted to be baptized. On March 3, 2007, Catlin was the first of the five to be baptized and confirmed.
Meanwhile, their other friends were increasingly troubled about this “Mormon thing,” as they called it, that had so drastically changed Catlin and Tiffani’s lives. What they at first tried to ignore had become a source of sometimes bitter criticism.
Enter Sara, another friend. About the same time that Tiffani and Catlin were investigating the Church, three of Sara’s friends from high school were preparing to leave on missions. Sara couldn’t understand what was so important that these young men would put aside a normal life to become full-time missionaries for the Church. She thought she might find some answers if she read the Book of Mormon, so she asked Catlin for a copy. Once she started reading, Sara couldn’t put it down. She went to church with Catlin and there met the sister missionaries. One month after Catlin joined the Church, Sara followed her friend’s example.
The two holdouts, Christina and Kristin, could not believe what was happening to their friends. First it was Tiffani (who had not yet been baptized, though they assumed it was inevitable), then Catlin, and now Sara. But Christina and Kristin decided they weren’t going to let religion come between them and their best friends, so they supported their friend Sara by attending her baptismal service.
Both Christina and Kristin were totally caught off guard by the Spirit they felt as they watched Sara’s baptism and, later, her confirmation. Kristin was so surprised by the powerful new emotion that she later asked Sara what it was. After learning that it was the Holy Ghost bearing witness to the truthfulness of the ordinances of baptism and receiving the gift of the Holy Ghost, Kristin knew she wanted to start taking the discussions from the sister missionaries.
Christina also experienced something completely unexpected at Sara’s baptism. Even though she had told Sara that she wanted to take the missionary lessons, she had started to doubt her decision. When she came to Sara’s baptism, Christina was still undecided. But when she met one of the sister missionaries who had taught Sara, her Christlike love erased all of Christina’s doubts. Suddenly she knew she wanted to join the Church. So Christina returned home to California, took all the discussions, and was baptized a month later, with her friend Sara in attendance at the service.
Meanwhile, after investigating the Church for more than a year and a half, Tiffani was ready to be baptized. Nine days after Sara’s baptism, Tiffani’s baptismal service was held.
That same day, Kristin took the first discussion from the sister missionaries who had taught Sara. Less than two months later, with the loving support of her friends, her bishop, and her Relief Society president, Kristin was baptized. The circle was complete.
So in the span of three short months during the spring of 2007, five elect young women were baptized into the Church. As Catlin noted, “It was the gospel that tested our friendship, but it was also the gospel that saved our friendship.”
The five friends are often asked to speak at youth conferences and firesides. As Kristin explains, “We share our stories to glorify the truth of this Church and to tell how, in the midst of the bumpy years of high school, we found ourselves strengthened and assured to choose the right.”
Here is a brief testimony from each of them:
Tiffani Phillips: “I have been blessed beyond words with amazing people in my life. My family is so important to me, and the plan of salvation is a gift that I will cherish for eternity. The overwhelming feelings I had when I first went to church are undeniable and a constant confirmation that this is the true Church. I have an enduring connection to my best friends that continues to grow because of our love for the gospel. Their beauty on the inside still takes my breath away. A few years ago, I never thought my life would have taken this path. I am eternally grateful I found the Lord and felt the Spirit that first Sunday in sacrament meeting.”
Catlin Nord: “The truthfulness of this Church sometimes testifies to you far before all of the knowledge is found. I knew this Church was true before I read the Book of Mormon cover to cover, and before I took every missionary discussion. The power of the Spirit in the first discussion, and the sweet thought that I can return to live with my Father in Heaven someday was enough to spark my love for His Church. The Spirit has guided, comforted, and helped me in countless situations. I am so grateful for my Father in Heaven and His Son, my Savior. I will be eternally grateful to Heavenly Father for placing these four beautiful girls in my life. Without a doubt, this gospel has changed our lives and the lives of those around us.”
Sara Waddell: “I don’t know what it was that made me do it, but I am so grateful I had the courage to ask for a Book of Mormon and to go to church. I felt the Spirit the moment I set foot in my first sacrament meeting. The plan of salvation gave me the most comfort I have ever felt. I thought I was happy before, but what I feel now is indescribable!
“I am a firm believer in missionary work and being an example! We should not hesitate to share our testimonies with others. Missionary work is so important, and it can be so simple. The simplest acts can change a person’s life, as I have seen them change my life and the lives of so many others.”
Christina Hatton: “I know that these four amazing girls were placed in my life for a reason. Because of their example, I found truths I never thought existed. I wouldn’t have been able to overcome the things I did if I hadn’t learned about the Atonement, about the love Heavenly Father has for me, and that even as alone as I had felt my entire life, He had been there. He had never left my side.
“Understanding and applying the Atonement to my life was hard. I didn’t think I deserved it. That was my biggest struggle, but I overcame it through prayer. I turned to Heavenly Father and I never looked back. I gave Heavenly Father my whole heart.”
Kristin Breinholt: “Through every experience and every situation I have been placed in, my knowledge of the truth of this gospel has grown. My relationship with my Father in Heaven has grown, and my understanding of the Atonement has grown. One thing I love so much about belonging to this Church is that you can learn so much. When the Lord is ready and knows you are prepared, He is willing to teach you. (See D&C 14:5.)
“The Spirit is contagious. My friends and I are proof of that. The Spirit is undeniable, and as you share it with others, you open the door for them to witness the truth and happiness of this gospel. I am so thankful that my friend Sara invited me to her baptism and confirmation. I will never forget the Spirit I felt there.”

Some months ago our granddaughter joined a youth group to tour several Church history sites. The final itinerary noted that she would be passing through the very area where her missionary brother, our grandson, was serving. Our granddaughter had no intention of seeing her brother on his mission. However, as the bus entered the town where her brother was serving, two missionaries could be seen walking down the street. One of the missionaries was her brother.

Anticipation filled the bus as the youth asked the bus driver to pull over so she could greet her brother. In less than one minute, after tears and sweet words, her brother was back on his way to fulfill his missionary duties. We later learned that her brother had been on that street for less than five minutes, walking from an appointment to his car.

Heavenly Father can put us in situations with specific intent in mind. He has done so in my life, and He is doing so in yours, as He did in the lives of our dear grandchildren.

When Elder Jeremy R. Jaggi was a teenager, his seven-year-old sister, Kristen, contracted a bacteria that attacked her brain. Doctors said she wouldn’t survive.
Young Jeremy knelt beside his bed in the family’s home in Salt Lake City, Utah, USA, and pleaded with the Lord to know why she had to die so young. His sister, however, received a priesthood blessing and lived.
This was a catalyst for 17-year-old Jeremy to “get himself right with God,” leading him to seriously read the Book of Mormon for the first time. Later he served as a full-time missionary in the Ohio Cleveland Mission.

In our early Church history, the Prophet Joseph, Emma, and their 11-month-old twins Joseph and Julia were in Hiram, Ohio, at the Johnson farm.
One Saturday night a group of men with black-painted faces burst through the door and dragged the Prophet outside, where they beat him and threw tar on him and Sidney Rigdon.
“Though the Prophet had lost a tooth, received a severe injury in his side, was missing a patch of hair, and had nitric acid burns, he preached a sermon at the usual Sunday worship service. Among the Saints gathered there were at least four members of the mob.”2
It is also interesting that those who participated in the Martyrdom of the Prophet Joseph and his brother Hyrum painted their faces in an effort to hide their true identities.3

Then I read a story about a pioneer woman. When that woman was a child, the prophet asked her family to help settle a Latter-day Saint community in a remote area. Tragedy befell when one of her siblings died. Her mother was distraught, and deep sadness permeated the family.
One day this little girl was looking out the window. As far as she could see, a blanket of snow surrounded the family’s modest home. As the little girl stared at the horizon, she saw two people trudging toward the house. On they came, slowly making their way, and suddenly the child realized who they were—they were her mother’s visiting teachers.
That story inspired me. I was baptized in May 1983. It is an honor to be a visiting teacher myself. I love associating with so many women who exemplify the “virtuous woman” whose “price is far above rubies” (Proverbs 31:10). It is wonderful to be with women who are also striving to be kind, to love one another, and to bring others unto Christ.

A little while ago, one of my followers on Instagram commented on a photo, saying, “How do you look so radiant with two kids, when I can barely handle one?” I immediately laughed and wanted to answer her with a picture of how I looked at that moment.
I responded, “I’ve always thought that I’m pretty careless in my appearance compared to other moms. That’s the effect of social media—we tend to compare ourselves with someone else, while that person is comparing herself with another. But the reality is that I don’t look radiant right now, and I don’t dare upload a photo of how I look. I usually only dress up and look ‘decent’ on Fridays and Sundays.”
I have been sharing about our lives on social media for a few years now. Mostly, I try to show what “real life” is like for members of the Church of Jesus Christ. And in doing so, I’ve had some experiences that have prompted me to think about the virtues and the risks of social media.
This wasn’t the first time somebody had asked me a question like that. The thing is, social media shows only a very small part of people’s lives. In my case, even when I try to be authentic, it’s impossible for me to show everything. And we shouldn’t be comparing ourselves or basing our worth on one beautiful photograph. Making comparisons, especially on social media, can make it harder for us to recognize our God-given strengths.
As Latter-day Saints, we do the best we can to be like Jesus Christ. But the truth is that none of us are perfect. And on social media, we should strive not to make wrong judgments not only about ourselves but also about others. We need to remember that even when we think someone’s life is perfect, we don’t see the personal challenges they might be facing. We never really know what’s going on in people’s lives beyond what they choose to share on carefully filtered feeds.
There’s often so much happening behind the scenes of every family photo you see on social media. Some people might look at those photos and ask themselves, “Why don’t my family pictures ever turn out so well?” But we don’t know what it takes to get those “perfect” pictures.
For example, we once tried to take a family picture after church. This can be complicated with two little children, but I really love to capture these moments and then look back at how much my kids have grown.
While we were trying to get the kids settled down for the photo, I had to take a moment to talk to my two-year-old son, Alvin, who was crying because he wanted me to carry him. I bent down, wiped away his tears, and then begged him to stand up so I could show off our outfits (which I had strategically matched that morning). My three-year-old daughter, Avril, was also asking my husband to hold her because she didn’t want to stand either. They really didn’t want to be taking pictures.
The photography session was unsuccessful—so we gave up. But when I got home, I found something better. My brother (who was taking the photos) captured the moment when all the chaos was happening. Both my husband and I were comforting our children in the photo. It didn’t really show off our outfits, but it was such a tender—and real—moment. I loved it.
When I shared the photo on social media, I captioned it “The reality of a family photo.” I never imagined that so many people would relate to it, but it made me realize that things don’t always need to look perfect. It’s OK to just go with the flow and be real. But it also taught me a larger lesson—that when we believe someone is perfect, we just haven’t seen all the details.
Social media networks are a powerful tool that we can use for so much good. But we have to be careful not to get discouraged or compare ourselves to what we see on social media. As Elder Gary E. Stevenson of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles said, “Hopefully, we can learn to be more real, find more humor, and experience less discouragement when confronted with images that may portray idealized reality and that too often lead to debilitating comparisons.”1
I know that as we remember our divine nature as children of God, we won’t leave room for painful comparisons or personal judgments. And if we stop listening to those comparisons that try to discredit our potential, we will be able to live fuller lives without worrying about all those seemingly picture-perfect posts out there.

Growing up in a faithful, active Latter-day Saint family, I never thought that one day a child of mine would leave the Church.
My husband and I had married in the temple and eventually had seven children. We did everything we could to obey the counsel of the prophets. We taught our children the gospel, shared our testimonies with them, attended Sunday meetings together, held family home evening, prayed daily both morning and night, and read scriptures as a family. None of our actions, however, prevented our son from leaving the Church.
In my sorrow I turned to the Lord for strength and came to understand more clearly the role of agency in our lives. Still I wondered, “What more can I do? Certainly there is something I can do to bring him back to the truth.” I prayed for our son, but I felt I wasn’t doing enough. Certainly, if I had enough faith, wouldn’t he change?
Such thoughts ran through my mind as I went to sleep one night. Heavenly Father saw fit to answer my questions through a dream. It was a simple dream, but for me its meaning was profound.
In my dream I was standing in the middle of my vegetable garden. I had planted and watered the seeds, but the plants had not begun to grow. In my dream I told my plants to grow. I nagged them to grow! Then I began to laugh at myself. The very idea of trying to get my plants to grow by telling them to do so was absurd.
Then I awoke. I immediately understood my dream’s meaning. My son was the seed I was trying to get to grow. But just as I could not make the garden seeds grow, I cannot make my son change. Inherent in each seed of my garden is a God-given ability to grow, and it is God who directs the growth of each seed. Likewise, my son has the ability to grow because he is a spirit son of Heavenly Father. But if growth and change are to occur in his life, they will result from his agency coupled with God’s power.
In my dream garden, I planted the seeds, watered the garden, pulled out offending weeds, and sought in every way to nourish my seeds. Likewise, in my role as a mother I plant seeds in the lives of my children. With Heavenly Father’s help, I teach them, try to be an example for them, share my testimony with them, and love them, doing all in my power to be an instrument for good in their lives. Then I must wait. In due time the Master Gardener will help the seeds to grow.
In the meantime He helps me to wait with patience. He fills my heart with hope. He reminds me that I am doing all that He requires of me. He gives me daily evidence of His love. In every way I need, He supports me.
So I will wait, pray, trust in His promises, and continue to plant seeds. The harvest will come.

I once served as husband to the stake Young Women president. One night I was tasked with arranging cookies in the foyer while my wife was conducting a fireside in the chapel for parents and their daughters preparing to attend Young Women camp the next week. After explaining where to be and what to bring, she said, “Now, Tuesday morning when you drop your sweet girls off at the bus, you hug them tight. And you kiss them goodbye—because they are not coming back.”
I heard someone gasp, then realized it was me. “Not coming back?”
But then she continued: “When you drop off those Tuesday-morning girls, they will leave behind the distractions of lesser things and spend a week together learning and growing and trusting in the Lord. We will pray together and sing and cook and serve together and share testimonies together and do the things that allow us to feel Heavenly Father’s Spirit, all week long, until it soaks all the way into our bones. And on Saturday, those girls that you see getting off that bus will not be the ones you dropped off on Tuesday. They will be new creatures. And if you help them continue from that higher plane, they will astonish you. They will continue to change and to grow. And so will your family.”
On that Saturday, it was just as she predicted. As I was loading tents, I heard my wife’s voice in the little woodsy amphitheater where the girls had gathered before heading for home. I heard her say, “Oh, there you are. We’ve been watching for you all week. Our Saturday girls.”

“Hurry, Cathy,” Anne called over her shoulder. Her tennis shoes pounded along the side of the road, and her ponytail swished from side to side.
“I am hurrying!” Cathy yelled back, barely three steps behind her. Laughing, they turned away from the road and ran across the gravel parking lot of Mr. Parkins’s Plant Place. Breathing hard, they burst through the front door into the rich smells of potting soil and damp, growing things.
“Well, hello, girls.” Mr. Parkins had a smile in his voice as he looked up from the cash register. “Did you come to work?”
“Yes, please,” Anne said. “Today and tomorrow.”
In the early spring Mr. Parkins often paid the neighborhood children to help transplant seedlings. “Where is your cousin Emmy today?” he asked.
“She went to help Granny,” Cathy said.
“Well, come along.” Mr. Parkins led them through the back door and into one of the long, low greenhouses. “We’re working on the petunias right now. I need all the help I can get. Are you saving up for anything special?”
Anne and Cathy exchanged a secret smile. “Yes,” Cathy answered. “A Mother’s Day present for Mum.”
“I know where you could get her some nice bedding plants at a good price.” Mr. Parkins winked at them.
“So do we!” the girls said together.
At the end of the greenhouse, Mr. Parkins opened another door and led them into another greenhouse. There, long tables were covered with solid flats of young petunia plants. Allen, Tom, and Lance were already working and laughing loudly.
Mr. Parkins stayed only long enough to make sure that the girls knew what to do, and to check on the boys’ work. “I’m sure glad the five of you could come,” he said as he left.
The greenhouse smelled warm and damp. The potting soil was crumbly and moist on Anne’s fingers as she carefully separated the tiny plants. Cathy worked silently beside her, filling each of the tiny container compartments with soil and planting the seedlings. For a long time no one said anything.
Then Lance elbowed Allen and whispered something in his ear. Allen laughed loudly, then whispered in Tom’s ear. Tom snorted.
Anne’s fingers started to shake, and she felt slightly sick. They were doing it again. “I wish Emmy was here,” she whispered to Cathy.
Cathy nodded. “So do I.”
In the next few minutes, Lance stopped whispering and started saying nasty things out loud. Some of it Anne didn’t understand, but she knew that it wasn’t good because of the way it made her feel. Again she wished Emmy was here. Emmy would know what to do. She was as brave as Nephi.
Just last week, Anne and Emmy had been walking home from school with several other girls. The sun was shining, but they all walked with their hands in their pockets, moving quickly to keep warm. Then someone started singing “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” in a really silly way. Everyone laughed and joined in. The next song they sang even sillier, singing high and then low. It was fun until one girl started singing “I Am a Child of God” in the same way. It hadn’t felt funny to Anne anymore. It had given her the same sick feeling then as the bad talk in the greenhouse was giving her now.
But Emmy had known what to do.
“Hey, let’s not make fun of Church songs, OK?” she had said quietly. She made it sound friendly.
The other girls had looked surprised for a moment, but one said, “OK,” and started singing the song the right way.
But Anne wasn’t Emmy, and she didn’t know what to do. She was afraid that if she asked the boys to stop, they’d just get worse. Now they were using words that Anne knew were not right.
She looked over at Cathy. Her sister’s lips were pressed tightly together, and she looked as if she was going to cry.
“Shall we leave?” Anne whispered to her.
“But I want to buy something nice for Mum,” Cathy said quietly.
“Yeah. Me too.” They were silent for a few seconds, trying to not listen to the boys. “Besides,” Anne added, “Mr. Parkins said he needs all the help he can get.”
Cathy nodded and blinked as two tears slid down her cheeks. She tucked her chin down so that Lance, Allen, and Tom wouldn’t know that she was crying.
Anne moved closer to her. She was angry now. It was hard to remember to be gentle with the plants. If only Emmy was here! she thought. If only I knew what to do! Suddenly she had an idea.
Softly, almost too softly to hear, she started humming “A Child’s Prayer.” When Cathy heard the first few notes, she looked up at Anne in surprise. She smiled. By the end of the song, both of them were softly humming together.
The boys were still making ugly jokes, but Anne didn’t feel angry any more. She started humming “I Am a Child of God,” only just a little louder. By the end of that song, Lance was quieter, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. Anne, feeling braver, gave him a big smile as she started singing “Nephi’s Courage” out loud. Cathy joined in, and their two voices echoed sweetly off the walls and ceiling, while the boys’ voices softened to silence.
Anne and Cathy were still singing one Primary song after another when Mr. Parkins poked his head in an hour later. “Sounds good, girls.” He came over to the long table. “Your work is good too. But it’s almost dark—you’d better get on home. I’m glad you’ll be coming back tomorrow—I can always use good, cheerful help.”
Rubbing the soil off their fingers, the children followed Mr. Parkins out of the greenhouses and into the early evening light. Lance, Allen, and Tom scooted past Anne and Cathy.
“Primary babies,” Lance hissed as he went past. Anne just smiled at him again.
The air was cooler now, and goosebumps dotted the girls’ arms, but they didn’t feel cold.
“I feel all warm and happy,” Cathy said, looking up at the pink sky.
“Me, too,” Anne said. “Race you home!”

Spiritual strength frequently comes through selfless service. Some years ago I visited what was then called the California Mission, where I interviewed a young missionary from Georgia. I recall saying to him, “Do you send a letter home to your parents every week?”

He replied, “Yes, Brother Monson.”

Then I asked, “Do you enjoy receiving letters from home?”

He didn’t answer. At length I inquired, “When was the last time you had a letter from home?”

With a quavering voice, he responded, “I’ve never had a letter from home. Father’s just a deacon, and Mother’s not a member of the Church. They pleaded with me not to come. They said that if I left on a mission, they would not be writing to me. What shall I do, Brother Monson?”

I offered a silent prayer to my Heavenly Father: “What should I tell this young servant of Thine, who has sacrificed everything to serve Thee?” And the inspiration came. I said, “Elder, you send a letter home to your mother and father every week of your mission. Tell them what you are doing. Tell them how much you love them and then bear your testimony to them.”

He asked, “Will they then write to me?”

I responded, “Then they will write to you.”

We parted and I went on my way. Months later I was attending a stake conference in Southern California when a young missionary came up to me and said, “Brother Monson, do you remember me? I’m the missionary who had not received a letter from my mother or my father during my first nine months in the mission field. You told me, ‘Send a letter home every week, Elder, and your parents will write to you.’” Then he asked, “Do you remember that promise, Elder Monson?”

I remembered. I inquired, “Have you heard from your parents?”

He reached into his pocket and took out a sheaf of letters with an elastic band around them, took a letter from the top of the stack, and said, “Have I heard from my parents! Listen to this letter from my mother: ‘Son, we so much enjoy your letters. We’re proud of you, our missionary. Guess what? Dad has been ordained a priest. He’s preparing to baptize me. I’m meeting with the missionaries; and one year from now we want to come to California as you complete your mission, for we, with you, would like to become a forever family by entering the temple of the Lord.’” This young missionary asked, “Brother Monson, does Heavenly Father always answer prayers and fulfill Apostles’ promises?”

I replied, “When one has faith as you have demonstrated, our Heavenly Father hears such prayers and answers in His own way.”

Clean hands, a pure heart, and a willing mind had touched heaven. A blessing, heaven-sent, had answered the fervent prayer of a missionary’s humble heart.

Not too long ago, I was struggling with stress, boundaries, and feelings of inadequacy at my job. I was also having a difficult time navigating some conflicts in my marriage. I seemed to be completely frozen with thoughts of “I don’t know what to do” and “What would someone ‘normal,’ who doesn’t have these problems, do?”
I didn’t understand why I couldn’t handle conflict well. It seemed like I was constantly in a lose-lose scenario. The lack of confidence I had in myself and the absence of tools to deal with my constant stress made my problems feel all-consuming.
They were all that I thought about.
During this time, my husband and I were meeting with our bishop to learn how to address some concerns we weren’t sure how to deal with, and he invited us to participate in a pilot test for the Church’s new emotional resilience course.
I was skeptical because I felt that I didn’t have the ability to deescalate some of the difficult feelings I was having. The title of the course didn’t proclaim, “Learn how to get rid of your problems today!” or “You have anxiety? End it here!” And subconsciously, I think I was trying to find some magical fix-all solution that would eliminate the pent-up negativity and anxiety I was carrying.
But when we began the course, we discussed a scripture that struck me—John 10:10: “I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly.” I realized then that I truly wanted to live life more abundantly. I didn’t want to be swallowed up in my afflictions and hardships anymore. I was willing to be open and hear the whisperings of the Spirit and learn what the Lord wanted me to know through this course.
Week after week, I felt the tools and knowledge I was gaining through the course help me slowly shift my mindset regarding my struggles and change my negative habits. And as I have looked over the notes I scribbled in the course workbook, I’ve seen how much I’ve grown from the lessons!
This course changed the way I thought about my stress and reassured me that all the struggles we have aren’t inherently bad. I became more comfortable with the difficult emotions I feel during challenges and have been able to better recognize sweet reassurances from the Spirit telling me that things will be OK.
The second chapter of the manual covers healthy thinking patterns and outlines several exercises that helped me learn how to break down my thoughts, determine whether they are accurate, and root out why some of them are inaccurate. These exercises invited me to look for the negative behaviors within myself that I was never aware of. And in doing so, I realized that on some level, I have always believed that I am exempt from pain. But through the exercises, I slowly started realizing that life was not going to be pain-free—it would always be full of hard times.
Surprisingly, I started feeling a sense of relief in this truth. I finally accepted that it was OK to struggle during challenges and realized that there wasn’t something wrong with me if I needed help. I learned that challenges are meant to help us grow. They are all part of the journey, and the ones I was going through at work and in my marriage were going to help me grow on my path back to Heavenly Father.
For me, the most impactful part of this course, apart from all the positive changes it helped me make, was how all the course materials pointed me to the Savior, Jesus Christ. The course’s format was divinely inspired. From its language to the focus of the lessons, it helped me become more confident in myself and in what the Savior can help me do.
For instance, the course taught me how the principles of the gospel of Jesus Christ can help me work through situations that give me anxiety. I learned to turn to Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ in moments of self-doubt and remember that I am good enough. I discovered that through God we can truly accomplish anything, and if I continued to have false perceptions about who I was or the challenges I was facing, I was only preventing myself from deepening my faith and experiencing growth. As Elder Ulisses Soares of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles taught, “Through Jesus Christ and His atoning sacrifice, we can experience a mighty change of mind and heart, bringing a fresh attitude, both toward God and toward life in general.”1
The course elaborated on some complex topics, but it also taught about simple topics that can improve our everyday life, like knowing how to appropriately respond to someone who is struggling,2 realizing that it’s OK to acknowledge discomfort,3 recognizing signs of depression,4 and understanding how meditation and mindfulness can help us reconnect with ourselves, Heavenly Father, and Jesus Christ.5
By combining counseling and this course, I was able to find the boost of strength I needed to make positive changes in my life. The Spirit taught me that I had the power to advocate for what I needed at work and that having faith in the Lord would help me access that power. I learned to ultimately accept that I needed to move on from my job if things didn’t change and that moving on wasn’t a bad thing. I also gained the courage to humbly and honestly work with my husband to once again foster peace and connection in our marriage.
In my manual, I wrote down a moment of gratitude for an interview I had at a new potential place of employment. I ended up getting the job, and I can remember the feelings of joy and peace that washed over me as I leaned into the discomfort of change. That aha moment came as I recognized that I had grown in a positive way and that my own efforts and the help of Heavenly Father and the Savior had allowed me to find success.
I’ve found that 2 Nephi 2:24–25 has resonated with me lately:
“But behold, all things have been done in the wisdom of him who knoweth all things.
“Adam fell that men might be; and men are, that they might have joy.”
In my opinion, to find success is to have joy. And my success is taking all this new knowledge and moving forward with hope and optimism, recognizing that the Lord helped me learn so I could live “more abundantly” (John 10:10).
I truly believe that living joyfully and abundantly is what the Lord wants for everyone. As the manual says, part of emotional resilience is being able to handle stressful situations and adapt to life changes with courage and faith in Christ.6
The Lord loves us, and He “descended below” all things (Doctrine and Covenants 122:8) so that we could inherit all, conquer our challenges, and have joy. I invite you to take advantage of this amazing course that helped me change my life and realize that while things might not always work out in the way that we want, they can always work out for our benefit because of Jesus Christ (see Doctrine and Covenants 90:24; 122:7).

One night in family home evening, Papa handed Carol Ann a small card with a picture of Jesus and some words on it. “This is your very own scripture,” he explained. “It’s a verse in the Bible, and it says: ‘We love him, because he first loved us.’ Think and pray about the scripture, and try to ‘liken’ it to yourself, as Nephi told us to do when we read in the Book of Mormon this morning.”
On Tuesday, Carol Ann asked Mama to read her the scripture again and again. By lunchtime she had memorized it.
That afternoon, she sat on the front porch in the sun with a kitten on her lap. She gently stroked its fur, and it licked her fingers with a little pink tongue and purred happily.
The kitten loves me, thought Carol Ann. I loved the kitten first, and then the kitten loved me.
On Wednesday, Carol Ann picked up things in Patty’s room. Later Patty gave her a grateful hug.
On Thursday, she dusted all the model cars in Brent’s room, and Brent gave her a happy smile and said, “Thanks.”
On Saturday, Papa washed the car. Carol Ann dried the hubcaps with a soft cloth until they shone. “You are a good helper,” Papa said. “I see that you have been thinking about your scripture all week. You really love people, and they love you back.”
Carol Ann was happy when she went to bed that night. She looked again at the card with the picture of Jesus. She knew that he loved her and that she loved him.

A positive experience from my life may illustrate the power of example:
Some years ago as a police officer assigned to a ghetto area, I encountered the problem of foul language among my fellow officers and many of the citizens of the area. I simply did the best I could to maintain the standards we are taught, by (1) refusing to use foul language myself, and (2) discouraging offensive talk whenever I could without offending others in the process. I soon noticed that in my presence the use of foul language was at a minimum. I felt that the other men respected and honored my example, even though they did not accept my standards for themselves when they were out of my presence. I never asked for this deference; it was given almost unconsciously.
I think I appreciated this deference the most the night an angry citizen who was quite prominent in the community made a complaint against me for excessive force and abuse when writing him a traffic citation. Because of this citizen’s position in the community and to calm him, it was likely that I would receive a reprimand. However, in his complaint this citizen swore that I had used foul language and cursed him. My fellow officers and superiors, knowing that I would not have done such a thing, immediately rejected the complaint on that basis.
I believe that when we first decide how we will act, and then follow the course we have chosen and endure in it, others who associate with us will be encouraged to follow that example. Many people will recognize the merits of decent action and some may in time begin to act decently themselves. At the very least they will begin to understand it, and although they may not accept it for themselves, they will respect our actions and even insist that others respect our actions. If they do accept our example, they will endure in this course long after we are gone and will become an influence on others as well.
Certainly there are times when firmness, tempered with love, is required. I like the example of a well-known lecturer who, after the speech to a group of college students, was answering questions from the audience. One young man prefaced his question by commenting on some of the negative effects of television on our society. In particular, he mentioned “women and their lousy soap operas.”
The speaker didn’t let the remark pass. “Before I try to answer your question,” he said, with kindness in his voice, “let me say that I am uncomfortable with the feelings you expressed about women and soap operas. I think it’s an unfair and inaccurate stereotype. And even if it were true, we men have enough bad habits of our own that we should be very timid indeed about giving any kind of criticism …” And then he went on in a friendly way.
No one in the audience was offended. In fact, an invisible wave of approval swept through the audience, and, to his credit, the young man nodded, acknowledging that he felt chastened but not offended. The rest of the discussion was very relaxed and open.
It seems to me that sustaining the Lord’s example for us is not such a fearful thing when we do it in this way. My experience is that by taking this course, not only will we not offend our fellow workers and friends with complaints and indignant lectures, we will, in fact, make it comfortable for them to honor our feelings and be encouraged by our actions to change their own attitudes. Righteous influence through example requires patience, tolerance, and long-suffering, but it can bring about change.

When I first made the decision to repent of homosexual activity, I greatly feared how the bishop would react. Would he act disgusted or angry? Would I be made to feel worse than I already did over having sinned?

Anxious about disclosing such a personal struggle, I delayed the repentance process for many months. When I did finally meet with my bishop, instead of burdening me with more guilt, he beckoned me back to the fold with words as inviting as Alma’s: “If ye have experienced a change of heart, and if ye have felt to sing the song of redeeming love, I would ask, can ye feel so now?” (Alma 5:26). The bishop’s calm and spiritual reaction to my confession made it easier to go to him later on, knowing I would be loved and helped. His Christlike approach aided in my repentance.

I learned the importance of this early in my career. After finishing my education at Stanford Law School, I sought employment at a particular law firm. No members of the Church were associated with the firm, but the firm was made up of lawyers of character and ability. After a morning of interviews, the senior partner and two other partners invited me to lunch. The senior partner inquired if I would like a prelunch alcoholic drink and later if I would like wine. In both cases, I declined. The second time, I informed him that I was an active Latter-day Saint and did not drink alcoholic beverages.
I received an offer of employment from the firm. A few months later, the senior partner told me the offer of the alcoholic beverages was a test. He noted that my résumé made it clear that I had served an LDS mission. He had determined that he would hire me only if I was true to the teachings of my own church. He considered it a significant matter of character and integrity.

Illustrations by Scott Snow
When I first met Tyler, he was the last person I would ever have imagined joining the Church. Even as we became friends, I never really considered talking to him about my beliefs, since I was sure he would never be interested. Thankfully, the Lord had other plans.
As I was sitting in bed one night, my phone buzzed, and a text from Tyler read, “Who is God to you?” Surprised, I answered with a simple testimony, and Tyler responded with more questions about what I meant. Over the next several weeks we continued to talk about gospel questions, and the Spirit worked in Tyler’s life, teaching and testifying of the truth. It was awesome to watch as Tyler voluntarily started to change his life out of a sincere desire to do God’s will. His earrings came out, the profanity stopped, and he started reading the Bible on his own.
That April, I finally invited him to come to church, where he soon became a regular. However, certain doctrines and principles that didn’t match his lifestyle kept him from fully embracing the gospel. He wanted to be a Latter-day Saint; he just wanted other things more. After a few weeks, he started going to a different Christian church.
“Heavenly Father, I know this gospel is true. So why couldn’t Tyler accept it?” I prayed in hurt frustration. This wasn’t the ending I’d had in mind.
Weeks later, a sister at church asked how Tyler was doing and where he was. “Oh, he’s fine,” I answered awkwardly. “He’s going to another church now.”
“He felt something here,” she insisted. “He’ll be back.” I nodded politely, unconvinced.
As the summer progressed and I moved away to attend college, I realized that although things hadn’t worked out as I had hoped, I had to trust that God still knew and loved my friend more than I could imagine and that He had a plan for Tyler. “Maybe in the next life Tyler will accept the fulness of the gospel,” I thought. I resolved that no matter what, I would pray to love as God loves—being patient and kind, always believing, hoping, and enduring.
One Sunday in late January, Tyler texted me, asking, “Where do we go after we die?” I was hesitant to give him a sincere answer because of some of our recent exchanges, but he convinced me that he was asking in earnest, so I sheepishly gave him a better explanation of the plan of salvation. He seemed to accept it, which surprised me. Then he really surprised me by telling me he had been praying about things for a long time and had decided to make some pretty serious lifestyle changes—changes that would open up the possibility of Church membership. I was ecstatic.
Now that Church membership was an option for Tyler, he had many questions. He met with the missionaries in my family’s home, and my parents gave him a Book of Mormon I had written my testimony in years before but had never given away. As Tyler seriously read and prayed about it, and as I and others fasted and prayed for Tyler, the Lord blessed him. The power of the Book of Mormon began to work in Tyler’s life, and his testimony of the gospel grew. Though he brought up some tough questions that I didn’t have answers for, the truth withstood every criticism.
I couldn’t relate to all of Tyler’s individual struggles, but I knew and shared my testimony that there is One who knows every pain and trial perfectly and that by relying on His Atonement we can have the strength to accomplish anything. It wasn’t always easy for Tyler, but while he investigated the Church, his faith and trust in the Lord enabled him to prepare for baptism. As he grew and changed, I gained a new appreciation for our Savior’s Atonement and love for us and how we can be absolutely cleansed of every sin and imperfection.
And so last April, my brother Nathan had the opportunity to baptize Tyler. Since then, Tyler has received the gift of the Holy Ghost, been ordained a priest, and given away dozens of copies of the Book of Mormon. Tyler is an example of strength and faith to those he meets. And although his trials are not over, he is an inspiration to me in the way he lives close to the Spirit by doing the “little things” like reading his scriptures and earnestly praying. His life is a reminder to me of the power of the Atonement and the love of our Savior to help us overcome anything that stands in our way. The Church is true!

“Nice pants,” a girl giggled as she walked past me into class. I stood in the hallway of my new junior high school, confused by her sarcasm.
“What’s wrong with my clothes?” I whispered to myself.
It didn’t take me long to figure it out. In this school, designer clothes were the standard, and my jeans didn’t have the right label. I just didn’t fit in.
As the unkind comments grew, so did my feelings of inferiority. Along with my schoolwork, I started studying the other students’ styles. Time and new clothes helped end the teasing. Yet I still spent hours worrying that I didn’t measure up.
My craving to feel accepted continued into high school, where luxury cars in the student parking lot were a common sight. I would rather have been seen careening through the halls in a baby buggy than caught driving our family car. It was a minivan, old and turquoise. A recent accident supplied the final touch—a white hood. The van reminded me of a blue-and-white suede loafer, so I named it Old Blue Shoe.
Since I walked to school, Old Blue Shoe didn’t concern me much—that is, until my parents bought a new car and offered me the ancient vehicle. Was I grateful for something to drive? Hardly—I’d rather walk.
A short time later in history class, my teacher assigned a joint research project. Instead of the usual disappointment, though, I was overjoyed—my teacher had announced that Rick and I would be in the same group. Not only was Rick one of the smart kids, but he was also seminary president and an athlete. This was my chance to impress him, to prove that I could fit in with the popular kids. Before class ended, we’d agreed to do our work at the university library. Then I walked home, smiling the whole way.
That night, my parents dropped me off at the library so I wouldn’t have to drive the van. But I cringed when my parents said, “Get a ride home from one of your friends, okay?”
The library research time flew by, and I felt relieved when Rick offered to take me home. We walked down the library stairs and outside, talking about school. As we reached the parking lot, my insecure feelings poked at me, and I felt the need to explain why I was reduced to begging for rides. “My parents bought a new car and offered me their van,” I said, “but it was this ugly dinosaur, and, you know …” I shrugged, hoping to suggest I was too stylish to ride in a car like that.
I wondered why Rick got so quiet. He pulled out his keys and stopped in front of his car. The reason for his silence hit like Old Blue Shoe’s ghost on a rampage. It was a blue minivan—a newer model, but otherwise identical to the car I’d just ridiculed.
My stomach dropped. I opened the car door and slid into the seat, wishing I could hide in the glove box instead. I wanted to apologize, explain that his car was nice, in much better shape than my parent’s van. Yet I was too mortified to say a single word.
Rick didn’t speak either, except to ask for directions to my house. He pulled up to my curb, then left with a simple “Bye.”
My face burned with humiliation as I walked to my front door. Worse, I knew I deserved every bit of my embarrassment. I went inside and sank onto the couch to think. Until that night, I’d thought self-confidence came from appearance. Although my comment bothered Rick, driving that car didn’t. He had an assurance based not on looks, but an internal quality I lacked.
I realized I’d wasted years studying the “in” crowd, when I should have been working on what was inside. I wanted to change, to be more like Rick—a person who could have a “bad car day” without letting it ruin my feelings of self-worth.
I made a goal to stop just following others and try to become more like our Savior, Jesus Christ. As I looked to Him, I began to gain a confidence based not on how I looked, but how I served.
I learned a secret I wish I’d known before Rick gave me that ride home. I was much happier when I spent my time thinking of others instead of worrying about what they thought of me.

Benjamin Ballam, who has spina bifida, is a special child of Michael and Laurie Ballam, of Logan, Utah. He has been a blessing to them and many others. Having had seventeen surgeries, Benjamin knows all about hospitals and doctors. Once, when an overwhelmed attendant became vocally upset—not at Benjamin, but over stressful circumstances—little three-year-old Benjamin was an example of the Lord’s commandment to be “full of love” (Mosiah 3:19). He reached out, tenderly patted the irritated attendant, and said, “I love you anyway.”

In 2005, I gave birth to premature triplets: Milena, Mateo, and Nelson. Milena was born healthy, but my two little boys suffered complications. Mateo died of those complications three months after he was born.
A month after we lost Mateo, Nelson was diagnosed with cerebral palsy and deafness. We were devastated. Doctors told us he would never walk. At that moment, we were grateful for our knowledge of the gospel of Jesus Christ. It helped us understand why we experience adversity in this life.
Through faith and hard work, Nelson learned to walk and to communicate through sign language. He has done much better than his doctors ever predicted. He has grown up happy in our family and in the gospel.

When I was learning to sew, I became very frustrated as my mother very carefully explained how to put a zipper into a piece of clothing. No matter how hard I tried to listen and comprehend, I couldn’t follow her instructions beyond a certain step. Then I had to go to her again for more directions on how to do it.
Finally I discovered that if I looked at a finished zipper while she gave instructions, and if I referred to that zipper while sewing my own, I could do it.