Gospel Story Finder

Immediately, I contacted the Church’s area legal office, and they hired an attorney to seek Sister Llanos’s release. This attorney was not a member of the Church. He committed to help us but expressed pessimism. He explained that mere possession of a military bullet by nonmilitary personnel is a serious crime, regardless of a person’s intent.
Later, Sister Llanos told us she had picked up the bullet off the street in her last area. She thought it was a souvenir. The bullet, after all, resembled the souvenir key chains sold outside an old silver mine in one of her previous areas. Government investigators, however, treated her like a terrorist. Within a few days, Sister Llanos was moved from the airport jail to a high-security prison where the worst female criminals were housed.
Prayers for Sister Llanos’s prompt release began immediately. Janeen and I invited the 115 missionaries serving in our mission to exercise faith that we could see a miracle, if it was the Lord’s will. I contacted the mission presidents in Mexico City, the Costa Rica San José East Mission, and the Mexico Missionary Training Center, and they invited their missionaries to join us in prayer.
Inside the prison walls, Sister Aketzaly Llanos never lost sight of her purpose as a representative of Jesus Christ.
Inside the prison walls, Sister Llanos never lost sight of her purpose as a representative of Jesus Christ. She taught her nine cellmates to pray by offering morning and evening prayers as a group each day. She also taught them about their divine identity.
One of her cellmates declared, “I am a really bad person for what I did to get in here, and God hates me.” Sister Llanos looked her in the eye and said, “No. You are not a bad person. You’re someone who did something bad. But you are a daughter of God, and He loves you!”
Another cellmate recounted a dream she’d had a few weeks before Sister Llanos was arrested. The cellmate dreamed that a quetzal bird had flown into the prison to help her. Before Sister Llanos joined the Church, she had had a picture of a quetzal bird tattooed on her back. When the cellmate saw the tattoo, she knew she should listen to Sister Llanos’s missionary message.
Sister Llanos taught her about the Restoration of the gospel of Jesus Christ and gave her the copy of the Book of Mormon she had brought with her to prison—the same copy sister missionaries had given Sister Llanos five years before when she investigated the Church.
A preliminary trial was quickly scheduled in Mexico City. Janeen and I went to testify in person. When we met the legal team outside the courthouse, the attorney was visibly nervous, pacing up and down the sidewalk.
I took him aside and said: “Today you are going to feel more calm and more peaceful than you have ever felt in a courtroom. Let me tell you why. More than 500 missionaries and their families are praying for you and your success today. They’re also praying that the judge will have a softened heart and that he will release Sister Llanos from prison.”
The attorney’s eyes filled with tears, and he expressed his appreciation for the faith and prayers of so many people in his behalf.
At 10:00 a.m. the trial started, but I was required to wait outside until my turn to testify. Two long hours passed. Then the courtroom guard came out and said the judge didn’t need to hear my testimony—he’d already made his decision.
Anxiously, I entered the courtroom, and the judge began to speak. He spoke about the law Sister Llanos had violated and about the serious charges she faced.
“Disregarding all that,” he continued, “I believe the evidence that has been presented about Sister Llanos’s good character.” Then he quoted an obscure part of the law that allowed him to grant mercy, and he immediately released her.
Sister Llanos with Sister Janeen Redd, into whose arms Sister Llanos collapsed upon her release from prison.
This was the miracle we had sought! Instead of being sentenced to four or more years in prison, Sister Llanos was free to go. After the hearing, her attorney said that that day was one of the most significant days of his professional career.
“I truly felt God at my side,” he said. “I want to learn more about your beliefs.”
I invited him to the Mexico City Mexico Temple Visitors’ Center. “You will see other missionaries there as good as Sister Llanos,” I told him. “You’ll see the sparkle in their eyes, and you will ask yourself why.”
Twelve hours later, Sister Llanos was released, still dressed in prison clothes. She collapsed into Janeen’s arms. Once we all stopped crying enough to speak, Sister Llanos exclaimed, “President, I got some referrals in prison!”
This entire experience confirmed that “God has not ceased to be a God of miracles” (Mormon 9:15). I have no doubt that the faith and prayers of many good people helped an attorney argue his case and softened the judge’s heart.
Because Sister Llanos was arrested, several imprisoned women received hope through the gospel of Jesus Christ, an attorney sprouted a seed of faith, and we were strengthened in our conviction that God can use us to further His work no matter where we are.

I didn’t grow up as a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, but through some members I met, I learned that when someone lives a clean, pure life, the Light of Christ shines in them. They become powerful examples.
My first contact with the Church was through a friend I made in college. He was a very good member of the Church who had served a mission. I had grown up in a Catholic family, so he often tried to start conversations with me about religion. But I wasn’t really interested. My friend was very clever though, and he tried again to introduce me to the Church—by setting me up on a blind date with a Latter-day Saint girl.
The minute Renée and I went on our first date, I fell in love with her completely. She was so beautiful to me. I could tell there was something special about her. Soon afterward, I was ready to be serious with her and to form a family—but after several dates, she said we shouldn’t date anymore because she liked me “too much” and she wanted to get married in the temple. To make things even worse for me, she soon left on a mission. After that, I decided I did not like the Latter-day Saints.
When she came back from her mission, our common friend invited me to a party where I could see Renée, and we started spending time together again. I had graduated from college and had a very good job, and I once again felt ready to get married. I thought I was quite a catch, so I proposed. She said no.
To keep the relationship going, I accepted the invitation to listen to the missionaries. One time she came to me and, with tears in her eyes, bore testimony of the Book of Mormon and begged me to read it. She wanted me to gain a testimony of the gospel so that she could fulfill her desire to marry in the temple. I loved her and didn’t want to disappoint her, so I said that I would. But even though I agreed to meet the missionaries, I initially met with them only so that I could buy some more time to convince Renée to marry me. I had no intention of joining a new religion.
After a few appointments with the missionaries, I still wasn’t interested. I would sit through their lessons, but I didn’t really pay attention or try to feel the Spirit. My heart was closed, because I wasn’t listening to the missionaries for me; I was listening to them for Renée. Things were going nowhere, and I still couldn’t convince Renée that I would be a good husband to her without being baptized. She stayed strong in her beliefs.
Then there was a change in the missionaries. A new missionary came to teach me, and he had an idea. He had me open the scriptures to Alma 42, and he asked me if I would read the chapter aloud to them, verse by verse. But instead of just reading it word-for-word, he wanted me to read my name into it. I didn’t really want to, but he insisted.
So I started with the first verse. “And now, Joaquin …” As soon as I read those words, the book started to talk to me. As I put my name in, I felt the power of a personal testimony.
The next part of Alma 42 teaches about the Fall of Adam and Eve, and finally comes the plan of redemption. When I came to verse 29 and read, “And now, Joaquin, I desire that ye should let these things trouble you no more,” I started to cry like a baby. I’d never cried like that before. I knew that the Book of Mormon was true—but I couldn’t even finish reading the chapter. When I finally composed myself, I told the missionaries I wanted to get baptized. Renée was so happy. I was baptized, and she finally agreed to marry me. A year later, we were sealed in the Buenos Aires Argentina Temple.
I am so grateful for Renée’s commitment to live the gospel and marry in the temple. Her faithful dating commitment not only strengthened her relationship to God and the gospel, but invited me to learn about the gospel as well. I know why she was so beautiful to me: because she was so clean, loving, and pure. Because of her faithfulness, I was able to develop a personal testimony of the Book of Mormon and this Church.

The faith of the young men of this Church is remarkable!

On June 12 of this year, I received an email telling me that the bishop from a Utah ward, his wife, and two of their children had been killed in an airplane accident. Bishop Mark Openshaw had been piloting the plane as it left a small airfield, when it suddenly fell from the sky and crashed to the earth. Bishop Openshaw, his wife, Amy, and their children Tanner and Ellie were killed in the accident. Miraculously their five-year-old son, Max, thrown out of the airplane in his airplane seat, escaped with only broken bones.

I learned that their son Elder Porter Openshaw was serving in the Marshall Islands Majuro Mission and that their 17-year-old son, Zane, was on a school cultural exchange in Germany.

I called Elder Openshaw on Christmas Island. Although heartbroken by the unexpected death of his mother, father, brother, and sister, Elder Openshaw immediately turned his concern to his two younger brothers.

Ultimately it was Elder Openshaw and his brother Zane who decided that others could help at home and that Porter should stay on his mission. They knew it was what their parents would want.

As I spoke with Elder Openshaw, I felt his sadness but also his unquenchable fire of faith. “I have the confidence,” he told me, “and I know without a shadow of a doubt that I will see my family again. … Strength in our trials is always found in … our Lord, Jesus Christ. … God’s omnipotent hand has been so apparent in helping [me] and my brothers throughout [this] very difficult challenge.”24

I met Zane for the first time at the funeral. As I looked at the four caskets before us in the chapel, I marveled at the faith of this 17-year-old as he addressed the congregation. “Today,” he said, “we have gathered with humble hearts and weary souls to remember the lives of my mom, dad, Tanner, and Ellie. … We have talked together, cried together, remembered together, and felt the hand of God together. …

“The day after I heard the news of the accident, I found a letter in my bag from my mom. In the letter she wrote: ‘Zane, remember who you are and where you come from. We will be praying for you and missing you.’” Zane continued: “There could not be more fitting last words from my mother. I know that she, along with Tanner, Ellie, and my dad are … praying for [my brothers and] me. I know that … they pray that I remember who I am … because I, like you, am a child of God, and He has sent me here. I testify [that] … no matter how alone we feel, God will not forsake us.”25

This story happened in Venezuela.
Ivette ran up the front steps to her abuela’s (grandma’s) house. Her parents came in behind her. It was Christmas, and they were going to celebrate with the whole family.
The house was crowded and noisy. All around her, Ivette’s family members laughed and joked with one another. They loved gathering together to make hallacas, a Venezuelan holiday food. This year, Abuela had promised Ivette that she could help make them. Ivette weaved through the maze of uncles, aunts, and cousins, looking for Abuela.
“Ivette?” Abuela called. “Ivette, where are you?”
“I’m right here, Abuela!” Ivette ran to Abuela and hugged her. Then she looked up, bouncing on her toes with excitement. “What’s my special job this year?”
“We’ll get to that!” Abuela chuckled. “First, let me show you everyone else’s jobs so you can see how hallacas are made.”
Ivette followed Abuela to the table. The delicious smell of onions, meat, and spices filled the air. She couldn’t wait to get started!
“First,” Abuela said, “Aunt Carmen will prepare the masa.”
Aunt Carmen placed a ball of soft corn dough onto a green banana leaf. Then she squished it into a flat circle.
“Next, Ana will add the stuffing,” Abuela said.
Ivette’s older cousin, Ana, tipped a scoop of meat stew onto the dough. She added olives, peppers, raisins, and shredded chicken on top.
“Now your mom will fold the leaves.”
Mom’s fingers gently wrapped the leaves into a perfect rectangle.
“Our job is next, Ivette.” Abuela passed the folded hallaca to Ivette. “We’re going to tie it closed.”
Abuela picked up a piece of cotton string. With careful hands, she crisscrossed the string around the hallaca. “Put your finger on top to keep it in place while I finish the knot.”
Ivette’s shoulders dropped. They’re making this job up, she thought. They don’t actually need me.
“Why can’t I have an important job like you or Mom?” she asked, feeling frustrated.
“Your job is very important, Ivette.” Abuela gently placed Ivette’s finger on the string. “Without you here to keep the string in place, we couldn’t tie the hallacas closed. Then they would fall apart while they cook. Everyone’s hard work would be wasted. We all play a special part in making hallacas—just like we all play a special part in Heavenly Father’s family.”
A special part just for her? Ivette thought about that as Abuela tied the knot over her finger. She slipped her finger out of the knot so Abuela could pull it tight.
“We are all needed in this family,” Mom added. “It’s how we stay strong.”
Ivette looked at her family gathered around the table. Everyone was different. Her aunt told the best jokes. Her mom gave amazing hugs. And Abuela always knew what to say to make things better. Heavenly Father had given them all different gifts, but that was what made them special.
Abuela placed the hallaca in a basket with the rest. They were all perfectly stuffed, folded, and tied by Ivette’s family members, each helping in different ways.
Ivette smiled. Each of her family members had a special place in Heavenly Father’s family, just like they had a special part in making Christmas hallacas. Even Ivette!
She placed her finger on the next hallaca as Abuela tied the knot.
Illustrations by Denise Damanti

Let me close with a little story that I told after returning from Europe in 1955. I had been to the temple dedication. One German woman whom I knew had lost her husband in the war. When I was in the temple at its dedication in Bern, this sweet German woman told me her story. Her husband had disappeared ten years before. That was in 1945, when the war ended. No word was ever had from him or news of his whereabouts. It was presumed that he was dead. After the dedication, having talked to President McKay about it and having the permission, this sweet woman went through the temple for her endowments. I saw her again as she went to the counter to get her clothing. I saw her in the session with contentment and peace upon her face. I saw her after the temple service, and she said to me with great satisfaction, “Brother Kimball, I have now been sealed to my husband. Let the war come. Let the persecutions pile up. Let the bombs burst. Let whatever need be come that war brings on. I’m all right now. I’m sealed to my husband and I am at peace and life is good.”

The Vershinin family from Nizhniy Novgorod first visited the Stockholm Sweden Temple in 2000. After traveling to St. Petersburg, Sergey, Vera, and their daughter, Irina, joined a group of Russian Latter-day Saints from various cities and traveled by bus and ferry to reach the temple. At the temple, Irina participated in baptisms for the dead and was sealed to her parents. “The trip gave us testimonies and many blessings,” she recalled. “They were small testimonies received individually by each person. But as a whole they helped us and gave momentum for further spiritual growth.”12

The fictional character Mary Poppins is a typical English nanny—who happens to be magical. She blows in on the east wind to help the troubled Banks family of Number 17, Cherry Tree Lane, in Edwardian London. She is given charge of the children, Jane and Michael. In a firm but kind manner, she begins to teach them valuable lessons with an enchanting touch.
Jane and Michael make considerable progress, but Mary decides that it is time for her to move on. In the stage production, Mary’s chimney sweep friend, Bert, tries to dissuade her from leaving. He argues, “But they’re good kids, Mary.”
Mary replies, “Would I be bothering with them if they weren’t? But I can’t help them if they won’t let me, and there’s no one so hard to teach as the child who knows everything.”
Bert asks, “So?”
Mary answers, “So they’ve got to do the next bit on their own.”

Ifoni had a solid testimony reinforced by some rather miraculous events in his childhood. At eight, while he was playing at sword fighting with a very real and very sharp machete, Ifoni’s eye was cut and damaged. The doctor said he would never see with that eye again. His father and his bishop gave him a priesthood blessing, asking, if it was the Lord’s will, that his eye be healed. Three months later, sight returned to his eye, even though the scar remains. He was also nearly electrocuted when electricity was first brought to his family’s village. Again he was given a priesthood blessing, and his life was preserved. Now, as a teen, he has no doubts about the power of the priesthood. “When I received the Aaronic Priesthood,” Ifoni says, “my mother encouraged me to stay faithful to the Lord’s power. It’s so important to stay clean and be worthy of the Aaronic Priesthood.”

Tickets for the October 2000 general conference were in high demand as it marked the dedication of the newly constructed Conference Center in Salt Lake City. Living in Germany at the time, we felt blessed to reserve a few tickets through our local ward and excitedly embarked on our journey as part of a business trip. Upon picking up our tickets at the Conference Center, because of a glitch in the system, I received three tickets to the priesthood session instead of the one I had ordered. Subsequently, I had offered the two extra tickets to friends, but an hour before the start of the priesthood session they informed me that they could not attend. Meanwhile, seemingly endless lines of brethren with standby tickets began forming around Temple Square, each ticket holder hoping to receive one of the rare empty seats left vacant by those with an official ticket. I prayed diligently before leaving my hotel room for the Lord to guide me to someone who might benefit from receiving the two precious tickets. With this prayer in my heart, I stepped outside and began walking around Temple Square. I passed hundreds of brethren who were looking for tickets, but I had not felt a particular prompting to give them away to anyone.
Sometime later, I found myself just outside the Tabernacle on Temple Square. There I noticed a father and son standing dejectedly on the outside steps and felt impressed to speak with them. I learned that they had just realized that they only had standby tickets and that due to the long lines they would not be able to attend the session. Sensing that the Lord had guided me to them I quickly I asked, “How would you like to get two real tickets for the priesthood session?” After first thinking that I was joking, their reaction was priceless as they wouldn’t stop thanking me. After exchanging business cards, I walked off satisfied that the Lord had answered my prayer and thought no more of the encounter.
After returning to Germany, I received a long e-mail from that father. He explained that his youngest son was approaching missionary age, but his testimony and his resolve to serve a mission were waning. The parents were concerned about him and spent many hours in prayer and fasting. A few weeks before general conference, an announcement was made in their ward that a small number of priesthood session tickets would be available for the brethren of their ward. The son unexpectedly turned to the father and said, “Why don’t we go?” The parents were thrilled about their son’s sudden enthusiasm, and after church they picked up two tickets from their bishop. In the weeks leading up to general conference, the parents of the young man spent much time in fasting, prayer, and temple worship, pleading with the Lord that the priesthood session experience would change their son’s heart and set him on the path of missionary service.
After arriving early to Temple Square, they had tried to enter the Conference Center, but were told that all they had were standby tickets and were asked to check for seats in the Tabernacle or to join the long lines of brethren in the standby line. Finding that there were also no more seats available in the Tabernacle, the father wrote that while standing on its outside steps, he prayed silently hoping for a miracle that would validate all the fasting and praying on their son’s behalf. The Lord heard his prayer and moments later he was holding in his hands two real tickets for the priesthood session. He reported that he and his son had a marvelous, spirit-filled experience, and that his son had made the decision to serve a full-time mission.

Many of these pioneers not only had walked away from comfortable homes and farms in Nauvoo and had buried babies in shallow graves on the plains, but they had also made other painful sacrifices because of the fire of faith and the commitment to their covenants that burned within their souls. One such was Catherine Spencer. When she joined the Church, her parents became embittered and angry, disowning her and refusing to allow her to ever return to their home or even to correspond with them. During the Saints’ final days in Nauvoo, Catherine became extremely ill. Fearing that she would not be able to survive the difficult journey west, her husband Orson Spencer wrote to her parents asking if they would not take her back into their home and nurse her back to health and care for her until Orson could establish a home in the west with the Church. No answer came to this heartfelt plea.

At last the time arrived for the Spencers to leave Nauvoo. A bed was made for Catherine in Orson’s wagon. As they traveled in the miserable conditions of March 1846, Catherine became sicker and increasingly weak. About five days out from Sugar Camp, they encountered a torrential freezing rainstorm that poured down through the canvas that covered their wagon. It was apparent that Catherine was failing fast. At this discouraging moment a messenger with the latest mail that had earlier arrived at Nauvoo found the couple. In his hand was a letter from Catherine’s parents. In the letter they expressed no interest in allowing her to come home or in caring for her unless, as they declared, she “renounce her degrading faith, and she can come back, but never until she does.” Without a murmur or complaint, the letter was folded up and put away, and Catherine asked Orson to get his Bible and read to her Ruth 1:16:

And Ruth said, Intreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God.

As Orson finished reading this passage, a calm, peaceful smile spread over Catherine’s face as she closed her eyes and lapsed into the quiet sleep of death.

Mario Moro
Mario Moro could not understand why he was drawn to buy that unusual book in a bookstore in 1973. But it fascinated him. He carried it everywhere to read.
The two Latter-day Saint missionaries who came to his office one day nudged each other whey they saw the Book of Mormon on his desk. What they taught him about the book was not new; he had already read it through once and had started over. But even though he felt good about everything they taught him, he struggled for almost a month with their baptismal challenge.
Then one day he closed his office door and knelt in prayer to ask what to do. The answer was strong. He went immediately to the missionaries—he doesn’t remember being aware of anything around him until he arrived—and they baptized him in the font they had kept filled for days, awaiting his decision. As soon as he was dry, Brother Moro was off to do member-missionary work with the elders that afternoon.
He is now second counselor in the presidency of the Sardinia District, Italy Rome Mission, and mission leader in the Sassari Branch.

A family had been taking pictures on a lookout point of the North Rim of the Grand Canyon. They heard screams and ran to find that a two-year-old girl had fallen through a railing to a ledge about 35 feet (11 m) below. The little one tried to climb back up, but her movements caused her to slip even farther until she was 5 feet (1.5 m) from a dangerous 200-foot (61-m) drop.
A 19-year-old young man named Ian saw where she was and, using his emergency-response training, knew how to handle the situation. These are his words: “‘Immediately, it all came at me, and I just knew what I had to do. I set down my camera and went up the trail a little ways where it wasn’t as steep, climbed over the rail, scrambled down a bunch of rocks and through brush, and found her.’ Holding her in his arms for an hour, Ian waited until emergency teams could drop down with ropes” to rescue them (“Save Her!” New Era, Sept. 2007, 6). The phrase “holding her in his arms” caught my attention because the scriptures talk about arms—arms of love, arms of mercy, and arms of safety (see 2 Nephi 1:15; Mosiah 16:12; Alma 5:33; D&C 6:20; 29:1).

Arise Early
Arising early is not in Doctrine and Covenants 89, but rather in section 88: “Retire to thy bed early, that ye may not be weary; arise early, that your bodies and your minds may be invigorated” (v. 124).
My husband gets up for work at 5:00 a.m. In the past, I didn’t get up with him. I would sleep in, and I didn’t get up with my teenage sons either. At night I went to bed early, but my husband stayed up until 11:00 p.m. or later. I was worried about him because he would get sleepy when driving. We needed a change.
I decided to get up with my husband and have breakfast with him. Now we spend time together talking over breakfast. As a result, I am up now with my children before they go to school, and I send them off with prayers and hugs.
My husband is now going to bed early too. I find that my sleep, which had always been poor, has become much sounder, so I don’t need as much. It seems that many things are working better in my life because I strive to heed the counsel to “arise early.”
Linda Davis, Utah, USA

David Eves discovered firsthand how quickly life can change when, on September 20, 1997, he and his friends went four-wheeling at Kolob Canyon in southern Utah.
“We’d been driving all day when we hit a bump and lost control,” says David. “I remember flying through the air, then waking up in excruciating pain. When I saw my friends looking down at me and told them I couldn’t feel my legs, I knew I would never be the same.”
After being life-flighted to LDS Hospital in Salt Lake City and undergoing eight hours of surgery to stop internal bleeding and to secure two titanium rods in his back, David spent the next three months fighting for his life.
An avid football, basketball, and track star, David, of the LaVerkin Second Ward, LaVerkin Utah Stake, was no stranger to pain, but soon he was faced with a new challenge: he couldn’t hold his food down or speak. His body weight dropped from 170 to 100 pounds over a two-month period.
The days and nights grew longer. “I wanted to get off the morphine, but the pain was unbearable,” David recalls. “I asked my dad to read to me from the Book of Mormon, and as he did a miracle happened. The spirit of that book brought so much peace, I was able to rest.”
But David was not improving. Jill Eves became alarmed at her son’s severe weight loss and, pleading with the Lord for inspiration, knew a specialist must be called immediately. Sure enough, the doctor discovered and repaired a hole in David’s esophagus, and David came home two weeks later.
His father, Raymond, had taught him two important secrets to obtaining goals: give it your all and never quit. David was used to giving his all, so it was no surprise when he was back at school the following Monday.
“Looking like an alien with my body cast and neck brace, I could see how different I was. I had absolute faith I would get better, but soon realized I was completely unlike the other 800 kids in my school. After that first hard week, though, I knew I could do anything I wanted; I just had to find a different way.”
When his brother suggested he run for student body president a few months later, David again gave it his all. “Vote for someone with skills and wheels!” posters lined the school halls, and soon David went from jock to school leader. “That year was awesome,” he says. “I felt it was the perfect preparation for my mission.”
Nothing made David’s therapy more important than his determination to serve a mission. Although some of his friends said serving a mission wasn’t necessary, since he was in a wheelchair, David didn’t buy it. “I knew the Lord wanted me to serve, so I decided I would do everything in my power to make that possible.”
Before long, he could shower and dress himself, drive his car, and negotiate his way anywhere. In fact, after his doctor said it was impossible, David learned to strap on a brace he calls his exoskeleton and walk, using crutches extending from his hands, by moving his shoulders to push his body forward. With no sense of balance or ability to feel the ground under him, this is an incredible feat—one for which the students and parents honored him with a standing ovation at high school graduation exercises.
After graduation David couldn’t wait to turn 19 and send in his mission papers. His doctor attached a note verifying he was totally independent.
But it was not to be. Instead of a calling, David’s letter informed him he could not serve a full-time proselyting mission.
“When I heard this, I was crushed,” remembers David. “I had worked so hard, and it seemed it was all taken away from me in just a matter of seconds.” Even though David had given it his best, he felt strongly he must continue to pursue a mission. An interview was arranged with Elder David B. Haight of the Quorum of the Twelve, who lovingly assured David there was a mission for him.
One week later he was called to serve a welfare mission at the Deseret Industries (D.I.) in St. George. Nothing had prepared him for such a call. “To tell the truth, I was disappointed.” But he kept hearing these words to the song, “I will go, I will do,” run through his head and knew the Lord wanted him there.
“I look back now and think how foolish I was. I had no clue what a blessing this mission would be,” David says.
Not only has David been blessed, but his sense of humor and positive attitude touched each of the 250-plus people whose lives have been uplifted and changed through D.I.’s self-sufficiency and missionary programs. “Whenever we were having a bad day, we’d just come and find Elder Eves,” says Debbie Kelly, a trainee. “When we saw how happy and positive he was, even in a wheelchair, we’d ask, ‘What are we complaining about?’”
While serving his mission, Elder Eves spent mornings tutoring trainees working on their high school and G.E.D. certificates. “He helped me so much,” says Brandy, a single mom working to learn the skills necessary for upgraded employment. “I couldn’t have passed my math section without him.”
But to David, tutoring wasn’t just about teaching educational skills. He loved his students. “They don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care,” he says. The relationships he developed with his students reached higher levels, like teaching the six missionary discussions to Rita Roberts, another trainee.
“He helped me understand the gospel step by step, because I’m a slow learner,” Rita says. “And I knew I could count on him for anything. He and his family helped me move twice. You couldn’t get a better person—not just in the classroom, but everywhere. He’s cool and unique.”
Besides tutoring staff members, David was responsible for many devotionals at the D.I.
“One day it was Elder Eves’s turn to give the devotional. Everyone was there but him. In a few minutes, in he came, walking with his braces. There wasn’t a dry eye in the room as he talked to us about overcoming adversity and working with your hand in God’s to accomplish any goal,” says Sister Scott, a welfare missionary at D.I.
While David loved serving at D.I., his missionary efforts didn’t stop there. In the evenings, he went team teaching with the full-time missionaries, resulting in several baptisms, one where he was asked to perform the baptism.
“I figured if she had enough faith to ask me to baptize her, I had enough faith to find a way to do it,” remembers Elder Eves. And so on January 1, 2000, being strapped in his shower chair, Elder Eves said the baptismal prayer and lowered Robin Rasmussen into the water. No one will ever forget the spirit present that day.
David brings a feeling of hope and peace everywhere he goes. But it’s his great sense of humor that endears him to everyone he meets. “I learned early on that if others see me joking about being paralyzed, they are more comfortable around me. When they realize I’m happy because of the gospel and my many blessings, the whole wheelchair thing disappears and they see me as a person.”
And counting blessings is what Elder Eves concentrates on. “The one thing my mission taught me more than anything else is how blessed I am. When I saw the problems some of these people at work deal with, my heart went out to them and I wondered if I could do what they do. I have a family who loves me, I have the gospel, and I have had the opportunity to serve the Lord on a mission. I couldn’t ask for more,” he says.
David is currently attending Dixie State College on a full scholarship and exercising on his bike and braces. “I work out in those leg braces every day to keep my legs stretched, so that when I do walk again I’ll be ready,” he says, with the same fervor with which he bears his testimony.
“I love the scripture in Doctrine and Covenants 121:7–8: ‘My son, peace be unto thy soul; thine adversity and thine afflictions shall be but a small moment; And then, if thou endure it well, God shall exalt thee on high.’ I know Joseph Smith was the prophet of the Restoration and that Jesus Christ is our Savior and loves each of us. Sometimes when we’re going through hard times, it seems like we’re alone, but we’re really not. He’s right there with us. And with this knowledge, everything else falls into place.”

I would like to share with you one of those personal experiences that challenged my family’s faith and understanding in God’s plan for us while at the same time allowed us to experience in very intimate ways His involvement in the small details of our lives.

It was in the early-morning hours of January 6th, 2017. My wife and I had traveled to Utah the evening prior to attend and participate in her grandmother’s funeral service. We left our five children at home, as they had other commitments with work, school, and extracurricular activities. It had been an extremely cold couple of days here in Rexburg when we left, and we had received word that evening that school would be cancelled for our children due to the subzero temperatures. However, my youngest daughter, Blaire, still had an early-morning basketball practice that was scheduled. My wife and I had made a phone call that morning to our oldest daughter, Ashlyn, to make sure the kids were awake so that Blaire could be taken to practice.

Approximately thirty minutes later and just minutes before the funeral was to begin, I received a very frantic phone call from my second-oldest daughter, Shaylee, informing me that when they had returned home from dropping Blaire off for practice, they entered through the front door and knew something was horribly wrong, as smoke had filled the entire house. As they made their way into the kitchen area, flames could be seen shooting from the cabinetry. The children hurriedly but carefully exited the back of our home and were standing outside all alone, not knowing where to go or what to do. As I spoke with my daughter, my primary concern was for the safety of our children. I asked Shaylee several times if everyone was out of the house, to which she replied, “Yes, Dad.” I then instructed her to call 911, and she indicated to me that her older sister had already placed the call and had informed them of the situation. I then had a distinct impression to tell her to take everyone over to a specific neighbor’s home because someone would be there to help them out. I continued to stay on the phone until they reached our neighbor’s home and were safely in side.

I ended the call and returned to my wife’s side just in time to see the worried look on her face as we had both just received this text message from our daughter Macie. I told my wife that all of the children were out safely and were at our neighbor’s home and that the fire department was in route. As my wife and I sat down for the funeral service, our phones began to vibrate as text after text message and phone call after phone call came pouring in from family and friends that had become aware of our situation. Unable to respond to the calls and texts, my wife and I sat holding each other’s hands, unsure of how this situation would play out.

It was in that moment that we both experienced an overwhelming and indescribable feeling of love and peace. We knew that our Heavenly Father was mindful of us in this very unsure, stressful, and difficult time. At the conclusion of the funeral and graveside service, we informed my wife’s family of the situation at home and started to make the long drive back to Rexburg. During the drive home, we had the opportunity to speak with our oldest daughter, Ashlyn; our dear bishop; fire department personnel; and family as they tried to help us navigate this difficult situation from a distance. We knew that the fire department had arrived on scene approximately 15 minutes after the 911 call was placed and had begun to try and suppress and contain the fire.

In our minds’ eyes we had envisioned some isolated fire and smoke damage with such a quick response time. However, after arriving in Rexburg later that evening and gathering our children from various friends and neighbors’ homes, we proceeded to our home and realized very quickly that was not the case. Flames and smoke could still be seen shooting into the night-time sky more than 10 hours after the 911 call had been placed. Despite the hard work and valiant efforts of our local fire department and emergency services personnel, our home and everything in it was destroyed. We were overwhelmed, to say the least, and had just experienced a challenge that was very visible and could be seen by others several miles away. I know this is not the case for many of the trials and challenges that we will face in this life. In fact, others may not even be aware of our circumstance or how challenging or overwhelming our trials can be. But I testify that our loving Heavenly Father is aware of you and is ready to send His love, lift you up, and guide you through whatever test you have been given.

In the coming days, weeks, and months after the fire, our family would learn first-hand how aware Heavenly Father really was of us and our trial. During this time, many valuable lessons were learned as we began the journey of rebuilding our home and putting things back into their proper places. Despite losing our worldly possessions, we recognized that our children’s safety was what mattered most. I would like to share with you three lessons that we learned as a result of our experience, and hope that as you experience your own personal fires, you will remember and draw upon these lessons.

Lesson #1: The Lord is in the details of our lives.
Elder Ronald A. Rasband taught:
The Lord is in the small details of our lives, and those incidents and opportunities are to prepare us to lift our families and others as we build the kingdom of God on earth. [3]
As the events started to unfold on that cold January day and in the days following the fire, we noticed the Lord’s hand was at work in the small details of our circumstance. We noticed His hand in a prompting given to our oldest daughter to take all of the children with her that morning. Shortly after the children had returned home, the entire back of our home had collapsed to the main floor. We noticed His hand in the distinct impression to instruct our children to go to a specific neighbor’s home. We were unaware at the time that they were at the temple that morning. However, Shanda, one of their college-age daughters, did not go to class at her usual time, as she had received a phone call from a classmate letting her know that she did not need a ride that morning. We saw His hand in a call we received from a dear friend offering to allow our family to stay in a home that had just been vacated the day prior and would not be reoccupied for another three months. We saw His hand in an answer to a mother’s prayer for her eleven-year-old son to be able to still participate in his scouting activity that following week. Having just lost everything, we did not have the pocket knife that would be needed for that specific activity. However, a prompting given to a dear ward member was followed, and a knife was given to our son the day before he was to participate in his event. We saw His hand in the many acts of service and kindness shown to us by ward members, friends, family, community members, and even complete strangers. My dear young friends, I testify that the Lord is in the small details of your lives. He is mindful of each of you and will prompt others that have been prepared to help lift and lighten the loads that you are called upon to carry.

Lesson #2: Joy and peace can come in challenging and difficult times.
When trials come our way, we may hear words such as these: “Everything is going to be okay” or “It’s all going to work out in the end.” We, like many of you, heard similar statements. But in my mind, everything was not okay. We had lost everything. All of our family videos, pictures of the children when they were small, mission and personal journals—literally everything that had any meaning or sentimental value was gone. How was that okay? As I struggled with these thoughts, it became apparent that maybe my definition of okay and the Lord’s definition are quite different. It is important for us to remember that the Lord can see the end from the beginning. In His own words we read, “My name is Jehovah, and I know the end from the beginning; therefore my hand shall be over thee.” [4] Our limited view, understanding, and perspective can weigh us down and cause feelings of hopelessness and despair. It is in these moments that we must exercise faith in the Savior and His Atonement and trust that someday all wrongs will be made right.

Our family felt like we were riding an emotional roller coaster in the days and months that followed. I remember those first few nights like it was yesterday. With almost no sleep and having experienced almost every emotion imaginable, the thought of joy and peace being a part of our lives again seemed so unattainable. It wasn’t until we made a conscious decision to trust in our Heavenly Father and have faith that He could see things that we did not that peace and joy again became a part of lives.

President Russell M. Nelson taught, “When you know your life is being directed by God, regardless of the challenges and disappointments that may and will come, you will feel joy and peace.” [5] The morning following the fire, I felt impressed to take this picture as I made the drive to our home to assess the damage. This picture would be a great reminder for me and my family of the truth we find in the book of Psalms, chapter 30, verse 5, which reads, “For his anger endureth but a moment; in his favour is life: weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.” I testify that joy can and will come in the morning as we trust in God and lean not unto our own understanding. [6] No matter how dark the night has been or how lonely you may feel, as you act in faith and put your trust in God, the promised blessings of joy and peace will come into your life.

Lesson #3: Maybe it’s not about us.
As is often the case when we experience trials and challenges in our lives, we find ourselves asking questions such as, Why did this happen to me? What am I supposed to learn from this experience? I found myself asking those same questions. In fact, I wrestled with those questions for several months. I felt like I was doing something wrong, because I couldn’t get a specific or definitive answer. It wasn’t until I was visiting with a friend who had gone through a very similar experience that I gained an insight that I had not considered. As I explained my difficulty, he simply said, “Wade, what if this isn’t about you?” In that moment, it was as if a big cloud had been lifted; and for the first time since the fire, I felt as though I had received an answer to one of my questions. Now, please do not misunderstand what I am saying. We have definitely learned some very personal and valuable lessons through this experience, which has led to an increased faith in Heavenly Father’s plan for us. But one can literally beat themselves up asking these types of questions.

When your own fires prompt similar questions, do you ever consider that maybe your test, trial, challenge, or experience isn’t really about you? In a world and culture that constantly promote putting one’s self first, we have been conditioned to look inward first in an attempt to manage or navigate our difficult situations. We can be so intent on finding the answers to those questions that we may not see how our own trials can be an opportunity to benefit or bless the life of someone else. I cannot count the number of times I heard from others how much they had learned from our family’s experience. I believe that sometimes the tests or trials we experience are designed to allow others to act on the promptings they receive to bear one another’s burdens, mourn with those that mourn, and comfort those who stand in need of comfort. [7]

I know that the challenge of placing the Book of Mormon in the heart of a person is not easy. Some years ago Sister Sorensen and I were preparing to go to Eastern Canada on a mission. We were in a restaurant in Salt Lake City just prior to going to the airport. A young man walked up to us and introduced himself. He was originally from Halifax, but had joined the Church and moved to Salt Lake City. He was married, with a small family.
He said, “My father, Raymond Gaetz, lives in Halifax, Nova Scotia. He is not a member of the Church. He does not understand the Church. He does not seem happy with me for having joined the Church. I would like to help him. I have sent him all kinds of information over the years. Some he has accepted, others he has sent back either unopened or marked ‘not interested.’
“I have here a copy of the standard works in a recently published quad. I think he might accept it if you would take it to him.”
We accepted the challenge. When we arrived in Halifax, I called Mr. Raymond Gaetz and told him who I was and that I had a gift from his son. I asked if I could present it to him. He asked me a little about his son and then said, “I have no interest whatsoever in the Book of Mormon. Please pass it on to someone else.”
I told him I couldn’t; it had his name engraved on it. I asked if he would please accept it from his only son.
He said, “No,” and hung up.
Soon thereafter I decided to pay Mr. Gaetz a visit. I was met at the gate of his apartment by a guard. The guard was kind enough to connect me with Mr. Gaetz on the intercom. I told him I would like to give the gift to him and bring him greetings from his fine son. He said I could leave the book with the guard but not to bother him further.
A few days later he called me and said, “I noticed this is an expensive book. I’m a frugal Scotsman, and I can’t stand to see it go to waste. Please come and get it. We can have my name removed and you can give it to someone else.”
I made an appointment to see him. When I arrived, the guard told me I was to take the book with me. I took the book, returned to the office, and put it on my desk to remind me that I had a work yet to complete.
Sometime later my wife, Verla, came into the office, saw the book on my desk, smiled, and said, “My goodness, what kind of a missionary are you? Haven’t you delivered those scriptures to Mr. Gaetz yet?”
“Sweetheart, I’ve been trying, but without much success.”
She responded with, “Oh, come on now. You’re just too busy.”
I was a little irritated, so I said, “Well, Verla, why don’t you try?”
She said, “All right, I will.”
She took a different approach entirely. She called their home, and fortunately Mrs. Gaetz answered the phone. After a friendly conversation, Verla invited Mrs. Patricia Gaetz and her husband to the mission home for dinner. She accepted Sister Sorensen’s invitation. About halfway through the dinner I was getting anxious to present the book. Sister Sorensen gently nudged me under the table, so I knew better. After the dinner we had a lovely discussion, but we never mentioned the Book of Mormon.
A few days later Mrs. Gaetz called and invited us to their apartment. We had a delicious lunch and talked. This went back and forth for some weeks. Then one day I again mentioned to Raymond, “Remember that wonderful book your son has given you? I surely would like to present it to you.” This time Raymond accepted the book.
We continued to meet together socially, and then one day I said, “Raymond, it’s time for you to receive the missionary discussions.”
“No, I’m not interested. But I’ll tell you what I will do. I walk every day at noon in the park for my health, and I would be happy to hear about the Book of Mormon through your lips. We’ll talk religion.”
So I arranged my schedule during the lunch hour to walk in the park two or three times a week with this good brother.
Our friendship deepened during these discussions. I soon asked him to be baptized. He said, “No, I’m not interested in being baptized.”
“Well, you’ve heard the gospel, you know it’s true, you need to accept it. You’ve been reading the Book of Mormon; now take it into your heart.”
“I haven’t the faith yet to accept the Mormon Church.”
One day a video came to the mission office entitled How Rare a Possession. You may have seen it. It’s about a man who found a copy of the Book of Mormon without a cover or introductory pages in a trash can in Italy. The man read the book, accepted it, lived its principles, and spent almost a lifetime trying to find out more about the Church. He eventually found the missionaries, was baptized, and came into full fellowship. The video projects him later in his life going to the temple in Switzerland. It is a true story.
I gave the video to Raymond. A few days later, during our usual walk, it was obvious that he had changed. He said, “You know that man that found the Book of Mormon was not unlike me. I do have hope in eternal life. I’ve changed my mind. I’m ready to be baptized.”
“Do you have a testimony of Jesus Christ?”
“You know I have.”
“Are you willing to give up smoking?”
“I can do it.”
“Are you willing to give up drinking?”
“I will.”
“Ray, you’re a wealthy man. You’re a captain of industry. You’re a man of influence, a man of substance and means. Are you willing to pay a full tithe on all that money you make?”
“I certainly am.”
“Good. Have you told your wife, Patricia?”
“No. That’s your job.”
We went right to his home. I told her of his decision and invited her to join him in baptism.
She said, “I can’t be baptized. You know I’m a good Catholic. Neither can he. He still smokes and drinks, and he won’t pay all that tithing.”
You know something; he did. He gave up his coffee, tea, alcohol, and tobacco, and he paid his tithing and rejoiced. When he came up out of the waters of baptism, he said, “Now I want to go to that temple.”
“Brother Gaetz, the temple is a year away. You’ll have to work hard and prepare yourself spiritually.”
“That’s what I want to do.”
A year later Sister Sorenson and I had completed our mission. We flew to Washington, D.C., to meet Raymond at the temple. As we walked out of the temple after several sessions, he looked up at those beautiful spires and made an unusual remark.
“I feel like I’m the last one in and the first one out.”
“Brother Ray, what do you mean?”
“Well, recently I have contracted terminal cancer. I don’t know how long I have to live. I am just so grateful that I have been able to come here to the house of the Lord. I feel very much like the man that was portrayed in the film who lived out his life and finally found the temple.”
Sometime later I was at Raymond’s side when he died, one of the happiest men I have ever known.
Recently a note written by Ray Gaetz to his young grandson fell into my hands. It is dated October 5, 1989, Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada:
“My Dear Grandson,
“I am sending you this Book of Mormon that I hope will be your lifelong companion. The teachings of this book will have a profound influence on your life. If you follow these teachings, you will be the recipient of many blessings. May our Father in Heaven bless and care for you.
“With love, Grandad.”
So it is that Brother Raymond Gaetz came to understand that “come unto Christ” is not a nondescript, lovely phrase. The Book of Mormon teaches us of the power and glory and gift of God and the desire to come unto Christ.

In Puerto Francisco de Orellana, an isolated village in the jungles of Ecuador, members have a strong bond of love and faith. The monthly branch council reflects their caring. They focus on individuals and families first, then how programs can help. Inspiration follows.
Many members need help finding work. The branch council finds that the members’ challenges can often be solved at the local level. As the council discussed the needs of a single mother with a young daughter who has health problems, the Relief Society president knew of a job where the mother could work and still be near her daughter.
The branch council also draws on Church resources, such as the LDS Employment Services career workshop materials.2 They established a class taught by a branch member, which helped another branch member find a better job.
Ramiro Reyes, first counselor in the branch presidency, says of the branch council: “We are instruments in the hand of the Lord. He will achieve His goals through our works.”

I remember one of the last sacrament meetings my father ever attended. After fighting cancer for a year, my dad was reaching the end of his life. The opening hymn that day at church was “Come, Come, Ye Saints” (Hymns, no. 30).
I peered down the row to look at my dad. He was crying. I moved down the bench to sit next to him and asked him if he was crying because of the pain or the song. As we sang, “And should we die before our journey’s through,” he looked straight into my eyes, and I knew that he was leaving us.
Now it brings me peace when I finish the rest of the song: “Happy day! All is well! We then are free from toil and sorrow, too; With the just we shall dwell!” This song of comfort is part of my father’s legacy to me.

Why would a person without compelling challenges, needs, or questions be interested in meeting the missionaries and listening to their lessons? Well, in my case it was love—love for a girl, a girl named Renee. I fell in love with her, and I wanted to marry her. She was different and had standards different from most young women I knew. But I fell for her and asked her to marry me—and she said no!

I was confused. I thought I was quite a catch! I was handsome, 24 years old, and a college graduate with a great job. She spoke of her goals—of marrying only someone who could take her to the temple, of having an eternal family—and she declined my offer. I wanted to continue the relationship, so I agreed to listen to the missionaries. Is this a good reason to meet with the missionaries? Well, it was for me.

I am the product of a similar kind of intentional parenting. When I was a young boy, maybe 11 or 12 years old, my mother asked me, “Mark, do you know for yourself, by the Holy Ghost, that the gospel is true?”

Her question surprised me. I had always tried to be a “good boy,” and I thought that was enough. But my mother, like Lehi, knew that something more was needed. I needed to act and know for myself.

I replied that I had not yet had that experience. And she didn’t seem surprised at all by my answer.

She then said something I have never forgotten. I remember her words to this day: “Heavenly Father wants you to know for yourself. But you must put in the effort. You need to read the Book of Mormon and pray to know by the Holy Ghost. Heavenly Father will answer your prayers.”

Well, I had never read the Book of Mormon before. I didn’t think I was old enough to do that. But my mother knew better.

Her question ignited in me a desire to know for myself.

So, each night, in the bedroom I shared with two of my brothers, I turned on the light above my bed and read a chapter in the Book of Mormon. Then, turning off the light, I slipped out of my bed onto my knees and prayed. I prayed more sincerely and with greater desire than I ever had before. I asked Heavenly Father to please let me know of the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon.

From the time I started reading the Book of Mormon, I felt that Heavenly Father was aware of my efforts. And I felt that I mattered to Him. As I read and prayed, comfortable, peaceful feelings rested upon me. Chapter by chapter, the light of faith was growing brighter inside my soul. In time, I realized that these feelings were confirmations of truth from the Holy Ghost. I came to know for myself that the Book of Mormon is true and that Jesus Christ is the Savior of the world. How grateful I am for my mother’s inspired invitation.

This experience reading the Book of Mormon as a boy started a pattern of scripture study that continues to bless me to this day. I still read the Book of Mormon and kneel in prayer. And the Holy Ghost confirms its truths over and over again.