Gospel Story Finder

A week before Christmas in 2007 two of my children were diagnosed with strep throat and ear infections. Jacob, age 5, whined all the way to the pharmacy for his medicine, and Beth, 19 months, was especially clingy.
When we arrived, we were greeted by a long line at the prescription counter. While Jacob tugged at my leg and complained about his ear, Beth wiggled out of my arms. I thought she would stay beside me, but as soon as she was free, she ran straight to an elderly gentleman sitting on a bench near the line.
The man was looking at the floor, his face resting in his hands. I called after Beth, not wanting to leave the line, but she approached the man anyway and bent down to look up at his face as she grinned and giggled.
I then sent Jacob to get her. He grabbed her hand and tried to pull her away from the man, but she refused to come. Then she started pushing on the man’s forehead in order to get him to raise his head. As I grew agitated, Beth took off her untied shoes and shoved them into the man’s lap. He sat up and smiled.
“Beth!” I called.
“It’s all right,” the man said in a tired voice. “I’ll tie her shoes for her.”
I grew a little nervous as he began putting Beth’s shoes on her. When he finished, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her on the head. He was slow to let her go, so I quickly left the line to rescue my daughter from this stranger.
As I approached, I noticed that he had tears in his eyes. Concerned, I sat down next to him.
“I have to tell you something,” he said, staring straight ahead. “Not more than a month ago my wife died, and about an hour ago I found out that I have terminal cancer. I came here to get medicine, and I have been contemplating my life and thinking that I might move along the inevitable. I didn’t think I could bear going through Christmas and the pains of cancer without my sweet wife.”
He said he had been praying, asking God, “If I need to be here for something, You better speak now, or I’m going home to end things.” Before he had even said “amen,” Beth began pestering him and calling him “Grandpa.”
“Now I know why I need to be here longer,” he said. “I need to stick around for my grandkids. They need me.”
I threw my arms around him and could not help but weep. I then got our medicine. Beth, who had seemed so ill only moments earlier, kissed the man on the cheek and bounded away with Jacob and me, waving and saying, “Bye-bye, Grandpa.”
I didn’t ask his name, but I will never forget that even a young girl who pesters an old man can be an answer to prayer.

What’s wrong?
I heard Miguel and Julia talking about me.
They said I was annoying. And they don’t want to be my friend anymore.
I’m really sorry.
You know, they’re just missing out! I always have fun with you.
Seriously! You even make chores fun somehow. You have the best jokes! And the best ideas. And you’re nice to everyone.
OK, OK. You don’t have to say all that.
Hey, I’m just telling the truth.
Thanks, Paolo. You always know what to say. I feel a lot better.
Illustrations by Katie McDee

Joseph wrote these feelings to his wife in an 1832 letter from New York City, where he had gone with Newel K. Whitney to buy goods for the Whitney store in Kirtland, Ohio. He had spent some time walking through the “most splendid part” of the city:

“The buildings are truly great and wonderful to the astonishing of every beholder and the language of my heart is like this: Can the great God of all the earth, maker of all things magnificent and splendid, be displeased with man for all these great inventions sought out by them? My answer is no. It cannot be, seeing these works are calculated to make men comfortable, wise, and happy. Therefore not for the works can the Lord be displeased, only against man is the anger of the Lord kindled because they give him not the glory.”

Then he wrote:

“I returned to my room to meditate and calm my mind. And behold, the thoughts of home, of Emma [his wife] and Julia [his daughter] rushes upon my mind like a flood and I could wish for a moment to be with them. My breast is filled with all the feelings and tenderness of a parent and a husband. … Yet when I reflect upon this great city … my bowels are filled with compassion towards them and I am determined to lift up my voice … and leave the event with God.”

He concluded,

“I prefer reading and praying and holding communion with the Holy Spirit and writing to you than walking the streets and beholding the distraction of man.”25

While on this journey with Brother Whitney, Joseph suffered a severe case of food poisoning that almost cost him his life. He wrote to his wife:

“My situation is a very unpleasant one although I will endeavor to be contented, the Lord assisting me. I have visited a grove which is just back of the town almost every day where I can be secluded from the eyes of any mortal and there give vent to all the feelings of my heart in meditation and prayer. I have called to mind all the past moments of my life and am left to mourn and shed tears of sorrow for my folly in suffering the adversary of my soul to have so much power over me as he has had in times past, but God is merciful and has forgiven my sins and I rejoice that he sendeth forth the Comforter unto as many as believe and humbleth themselves before him.”26

Just after 2:00 a.m. on October 26, 2003, Daniel Olsen, 17, hears his mother telling him that a wildfire is less than a mile away. “I jumped out of bed, but the power was out, so I couldn’t find my shoes,” he remembers. “My younger sister, Kelli, yelled, ‘What good are shoes if you’re dead?’” He grabbed his gym bag and ran out of the house barefoot.
Outside, Daniel can smell the smoke, see the oak trees silhouetted against the orange sky, and feel the ash in 50-mile-per-hour (80-km-hr.) winds swirling around him. “We started driving down Wildcat Canyon and said a prayer,” he says. “My mom honked the horn to wake others. I sang, ‘We are as the armies of Helaman’1 as loud as I could. It made me feel better.”
A few hours later, the fire is burning 12,000 acres (4,800 ha) an hour, creating its own weather system of wind and fire tornados. The 150-foot-high (46 m) flames consume the dry brush and trees as the fire climbs uphill to 12-year-old Matthew Porter’s home. He and his family had left earlier. The flames roll in the wind against the wooden eaves of the roof until they take hold. Soon the ceiling collapses into the house. The curtains, bedding, furniture, piano, and books burn. The walls fall inward. The metal garage door sags, and the tires on an ATV melt. Amid the inferno, a wrench hangs on the fire hydrant at the end of the driveway, unused.
Daniel’s and Matthew’s houses were among the 2,232 lost during 11 days as this fire, named the Cedar Fire, burned more than 280,000 acres (113,300 ha) and killed 14 people, most of whom died in Wildcat Canyon. Twelve other fires were burning at this time in southern California, forcing more than 100,000 people to evacuate.
Daniel and Matthew, like other LDS youth affected by the fires, are emerging stronger as they learn that the gospel eases suffering during a crisis.
“Our relationship with the Savior survives everything,” says Daniel, who found comfort in the words “He that is righteous shall be righteous still; he that is happy shall be happy still” (Morm. 9:14).
“When you realize your home is gone, it’s overwhelming,” says Matthew. “You don’t think you can do it, but you do it anyway.”
Joe Tidwell, 16, is in the same ward as Matthew. “Our family decided on the day after we lost our house to focus on the good,” Joe says. “We’ve tried to do that every day since.”
A week later the fire was still burning when Latter-day Saints gathered to hear President Boyd K. Packer, Acting President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, speak. He pronounced an apostolic blessing upon them. After the meeting, he shook hands with every person, including 16-year-old Tori Gross.
“President Packer reminded us that we lost our houses, not our homes,” Tori says. “When a boy at school said he was homeless, I said, ‘You’re not homeless, you’re houseless.’ Our house burned to the ground and so did part of the new house we are building. But our family survived. Since the fire, I feel closer to Heavenly Father, and I rely on the gospel more.”
Elsie Smith, 17, whose house didn’t burn, spent nearly every Saturday for several months helping clean up sites where houses were burned. “Kids from other stakes came every week to help,” she says. “Only 2 of the more than 600 homes that burned in our ward area belonged to members, but we helped everyone.”
A. J. Schumann, 17, spent six hours helping his dad and neighbors clear a 30-yard firebreak in an effort to save his and other houses. “It’s amazing to see how people rally together in a crisis,” he says. “Ward members, whose homes were not in danger, came to help us. After we evacuated, somehow two of our friends made their way back and hosed down our burning fences. All eight houses survived, but I’ve learned people matter more than things.”
Smoke and ash filled the air, turning the sun red. Parker Boyack, 15, could see the smoke and orange glow in the sky. After seeing on television damage caused by the fire, he wanted to help. The next day he went with his mother to the evacuation center, where hundreds of families had spent the night.
“People were so shocked and scared,” he says. “I took down cots and folded blankets, then I sorted the donated food. I played with the children, fed the birds and cats, and took a big dog to the park to run. I think I made some difference. I knew we should help people, but this changed my life.”
Daniel, Matthew, Tori, Elsie, and A. J. all faced the fire and had moments when they were scared and not sure they were going to make it. Though the outcomes varied, these LDS youth dealt with the challenge in the same way—they drew upon prayer, family, and the scriptures.
Elsie came to the understanding that we all have good and bad things happen to us. “Your Father which is in heaven,” the Lord taught, “maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust” (Matt. 5:45). Elsie says, “It’s how we handle what happens that is important.”
Matthew bears testimony of what is said in D&C 68:6: “Be of good cheer, and do not fear, for I the Lord am with you, and will stand by you.”
Matthew says, “This experience brought out strength in me. I feel closer to Heavenly Father and have a better understanding of how He works. Even though we felt the Spirit when we prayed together in the garage before we left, our house still burned. I learned Heavenly Father moves in mysterious ways. He loves us. I never doubted that. I don’t blame Him for what happened.”
As these youth learned, no trial is beyond the Lord’s healing touch. The Savior will “bind up the brokenhearted,” give “comfort to all that mourn,” and give us “beauty for ashes” (Isa. 61:1–3).
Putting the gospel into practice really does work. These LDS youth drew upon their faith in Jesus Christ and came out stronger. We can do the same.
About 180 missionaries in the California Carlsbad Mission divided their time between proselyting and helping fire victims. For a month they shoveled ash and debris, hefted sandbags, and helped at evacuation centers.
One elder said, “My shoulders are sore, my back hurts, and my fingernails are dirty from dirt and ash, but my heart is full.”
The reputation of the missionaries’ hard work grew. An engineering official, assessing his needs for a sandbagging project, said with a smile, “We’ll need 195 men or 5 Mormon missionaries.”
In one area where more than 300 homes burned, the residents honored the firemen and the missionaries. One resident said, “These missionaries worked longer and harder than anyone else.” Then the missionaries sang, “Because I Have Been Given Much,” (Hymns, no. 219). After the song, the missionaries and residents hugged one another with tears in their eyes.
Said one elder, “We showed others that though we are young, the gospel guides our lives whether we are teaching the gospel or digging out the remains of a home.”
Ten elders worked around-the-clock at a Red Cross evacuation center. After four days, its senior official called mission president Stephen M. Studdert and lovingly referred to these elders as “Mormon angels.”
“I cannot think of a more accurate term to describe the Christlike goodness of all our missionaries,” says President Studdert. “They served selflessly, often ignoring personal physical exhaustion, to bring a measure of gladness to those in need.”
Have cash on hand.
Send copies of family pictures to friends.
Keep your shoes by the bed.
Keep your preparedness kit in your car.
Have a plan. Know where you will go if you need to evacuate.
Take photos of your home, inside and out.

I had been going over an extensive reading list for the comprehensive exam I needed to pass to obtain my master’s degree in English. I hoped my preparation was adequate, but I worried that it was not. I had gone back to school at age 35, and remembering concepts often seemed more difficult than it had been when I was younger.
The test was to occur on Monday, and when Sunday morning came, I began to rationalize that my time would be better spent studying rather than attending Sunday School and Relief Society. I had almost decided to attend just sacrament meeting, but in the end I felt too guilty. I wondered what sort of example I would be setting for my young children. So I went to Sunday School and Relief Society.
The Gospel Doctrine lesson covered the book of Job, and the instructor, Brother Clayton Smith, was an eloquent and humble teacher who delivered a powerful, spiritual message. I held the scriptures open on my lap during the lesson and found my eyes drawn to a few particular verses that I read over and over again.
The next day I arrived at the room where the test was to be administered, and the proctor handed out the exam. It consisted of three essay questions, and I had three hours to complete them. Imagine my surprise when I read one of the questions: “Discuss the concept of suffering as illustrated by at least three literary works from the reading list.” The book of Job was one of the works on the list.
I was truly amazed at how easily I answered that question, my response highlighted with direct quotes from the verses I had read the previous day in Sunday School. Breezing through that essay allowed me extra time to complete the other two questions.
At the conclusion of the test I felt very grateful for my “extra” preparation. I also felt that, having participated in Brother Smith’s lesson, I had gained a spiritual perspective on Job that allowed me to answer the question with greater depth, fervor, and understanding than would otherwise have been possible.
Several weeks later, when the results of the test were posted, I discovered that I was the only student who had been awarded honors.
That was a Sunday School lesson I will never forget, particularly as it reinforced the concept of keeping the Sabbath day holy and never missing my meetings. I am grateful I was inspired to attend Gospel Doctrine that Sunday morning rather than cramming for my exam.

After high school, I decided to serve a mission. But I had some unexpected medical problems that kept me from leaving when I expected to.
I had to be patient, but I was eventually called to the Mexico Guadalajara East Mission. There, I taught many amazing people and even helped some of them be baptized. But even with my faith, obedience, and hard work, none of them stayed active in the Church.
Often, life events are out of our control. I couldn’t instantly solve my medical problems. And I can’t force others to live the gospel. But I can trust in the Lord’s timing and way.

In 2016—in the midst of nearly three decades of marriage, bearing and nurturing and loving our three sons, practicing law full-time, serving in Church callings, and attending to the needs of our extended family—my husband, Doug, and I were called to serve for three years as mission leaders in Arequipa, Peru. We left just after our first grandson was born.
We returned home in 2019 to two new granddaughters. Our two oldest sons were married, and the youngest was in love and soon to be married. I returned to practicing law, and my favorite calling was as Mom and Grammy.
And then the call came to serve as the Primary General President. The comfortable narrative I had written for myself was spending time with my family, another decade practicing law to ensure financial security, and serving in my ward or in the temple.
What if I had stuck with this comfortable narrative?
I would have enjoyed spending more time with my grandchildren and I could have been assured some financial security. And I would have missed a stretching, soul-searching, and faith-building experience. Uphill? Yes. Worth it? Oh, yes!

A young lady named Amalia reported that her first reaction when she heard the Mormon missionaries were coming was not favorable. “Those tall boys?” she had asked contemptuously. But after listening to the message and reading the pamphlets, she and her mother both found the doctrine convincing. But they still lacked a spiritual witness. “We were waiting for a voice or something,” she says, “and it just didn’t come.” But when they went to their first meeting something very special happened.

“When we entered the chapel, the meeting stopped while everyone welcomed us. They received us with so much love that we were touched. They cried and embraced us as if they had known us forever. We were accustomed to images and silence when we went to church, so we were overwhelmed that day by the bare walls and the love. After that I prayed every day, but I still wasn’t sure I had a testimony. Then one day the missionaries challenged us to be baptized, and it suddenly seemed as if I had always known that the Church was true without remembering exactly when I had come to know it.

“Since my baptism my testimony has grown every day. I have had many prayers answered. Whenever I pray, I always hear the answer inside myself. Many of the things I pray about might seem small and unimportant to others, but to me they are important. I remember one evening I was so discouraged that I was crying. I needed help from the Lord in understanding a problem, and so I prayed, and the answer came: ‘Everything will be all right.’ Then I could see the answer to my problem so clearly that I wondered why it wasn’t obvious from the start. My mind was at rest, and I dried my eyes and slept peacefully that night.

“I still have a long way to go, but with faith I will continue to grow. I have to study and learn more every day. I have so much still to learn! I want to share the happiness I have found with everyone. I invited all my friends to my baptism. At school I told my religion class about the Church. That didn’t go over too well with the priest who taught the class, but I wanted to share the gospel with everyone. I help the full-time missionaries every chance I get. I love everybody. I want to bring happiness to as many as I can. I visit the sick. I make presents for the branch members. I teach the children how to help their mothers at home. The gospel has simply turned my life upside down. I’m not the same person I was, and I’m not the same person I’m going to be. I’m never going to stop trying to become better.”

Dear Topher,
Thank you for the get-well card and the snapshot of you and that kangaroo on the playground. It sounds like school in Blackwater isn’t much different from here in Michigan, except I have never seen anyone bring a wallaby to class!
Yesterday was my twelfth birthday. My little sister, Kimmy, drew me a picture of an elephant on stilts. It was pretty funny. The nurse hung it on the wall by the side of my bed. Oh, and Mom and Dad bought me a puzzle—one of those hard ones with zillions of tiny pieces. I guess they think I’m going to be here for a while! Dr. Gunnerson tries to find a piece every time he comes in my room, but he says it’s harder to put together than some of his patients.
I feel about the same, I guess. Some days are better than others. It’s hard to know about cancer.
Well, I’d better go now, Topher. I’m real tired, and Dad is making funny faces and it makes it hard to write.
Your pen pal,
Cindy
Dear Topher,
It was fun reading your letter. Good luck with your part in that ward musical. Are you serious about your bishop playing Bigfoot? Maybe they grow bishops bigger in Australia—ha, ha!
Speaking of bishops, Topher, mine has been coming to see me a lot lately. In fact, he helped me finish that puzzle. It’s a picture of a raccoon and a turtle. I told him that I wish more people would show reverence for Heavenly Father’s creatures by being kind to them. He said that life is precious—all of it. I asked him if animals go to heaven when they die. He said that it says in the Pearl of Great Price that all things were created spiritually before they were placed temporally upon the Earth.* He said that spirits are eternal, so that certainly ups their odds!
Then we talked about dying, how it is a part of living, that it is like a door we all pass through in order to keep on living forever. He said that it isn’t so important how much time we have on earth but what we do with the time we have. Then he held me a long time and didn’t say anything. It was like he couldn’t talk. I think he was crying. Then he whispered in my ear and said that Heavenly Father was very proud of me and had a special place prepared for me in Heaven.
Later that day Dad and our home teachers—Brother Sullivan and his son Larry—gave me another blessing. Dad asked Heavenly Father that if it was His will that I should be called home early, that my pain might stop so I could better enjoy whatever time I have left. Well, Topher, guess what? The pain went away. It is easier for me to write now too.
Linda, one of the nurses, is bringing my supper in, and it smells good, so I guess I’ll say good-bye for now.
Your pen pal,
Cindy
Dear Topher,
You asked me in the letter I got from you yesterday if I was afraid to die. I guess I should be, kind of. But I don’t feel scared. Mom told me what Grandma Clanton said before she died about four years ago. She said she would be leaving Mom and the rest of us for just a little while and to not be frightened. She said she’d be happy and that we shouldn’t worry about her. That helped me a lot.
Another reason I’m not afraid is because I have a testimony of Jesus. He died so that we might all live again and so that families can be forever. I have an older brother in Heaven. Maybe I’ll be able to see him. And my Uncle Eugene. And my ancestors. I kind of got to know some of them when my parents were working on their family history. One of them, Nathan Twiggs, carried a chair on his back all the way across the plains—and not just so he would have something to sit on when he got tired walking! His grandfather, Thomas Twiggs, made it and used to sit on it with Nathan on his knees and read the Book of Mormon to him. Dad said it was in that chair that Thomas got his testimony.
If I could choose between staying or leaving, I would stay here on earth for a while because when I think of leaving my family, I feel sad. But Heavenly Father knows best, and Mom said that we were all probably both happy and sad when we left our heavenly parents to come down here.
Oh, I wish I could see that play you are going to be in, Topher! It sounds like it will be fun. I laughed when you said you brought a friend to dress rehearsal and you pointed to Bigfoot and said he was your bishop, and your friend said, “No wonder everyone is so reverent—I wouldn’t want to upset him, either!”
Take care of yourself, Topher. Kiss a kangaroo for me. I think they’re cute.
Your pen pal,
Cindy
Dear Topher,
I’m Cindy’s mother. You probably don’t know me. Or maybe you do, a little. Cindy most likely told you about her family in some of her letters. She’s told us a good deal about you.
Cindy passed away last week, Topher. She wanted me to tell you good-bye and that she would see you later. She said for you to work on your testimony every day because it will help make your trials much easier to bear. And you know what, Topher? It does. It does!
Write us when you can. We would like to keep in touch.
Love,
Cindy’s mom
Dear Cindy’s family,
I cried a lot when you told me about Cindy. Then, well, it’s hard to explain, but a warm feeling came over me. It felt like the sun when it pushes down through a bunch of dark, wet clouds. I know Cindy is happy, just as she said she would be. And what she said about you asking me to work on my testimony? Well, I am. I want one, too, so that when things get hard or confusing I can be strong—and happy, even when I’m sad.
I’ll write again soon.
Love,
Topher

Some years ago, one of our young married daughters and her husband asked Sister Rasband and me a very important, life-influencing question: “Is it still safe and wise to bring children into this seemingly wicked and frightening world we live in?”

Now, that was an important question for a mom and dad to consider with their dear married children. We could hear the fear in their voices and feel the fear in their hearts. Our answer to them was a firm “Yes, it’s more than OK,” as we shared fundamental gospel teachings and our own heartfelt impressions and life experiences.

Now, what about that daughter and son-in-law who asked the very heartfelt and probing, fear-based question years ago? They seriously considered our conversation that night; they prayed and fasted and came to their own conclusions. Happily and joyfully for them and for us, the grandparents, they have now been blessed with seven beautiful children as they go forward in faith and love.

When I was four years old, I found out that I had to get my frenulum (a part of the tongue that connects it to the mouth) clipped. I was really scared the day of my operation. I said a prayer to Heavenly Father that everything would be all right. At the hospital, the doctor gave me some medicine, and I went to sleep. When I woke up, the next thing I knew I was in my mom’s arms, and I didn’t cry. I believe that Heavenly Father helped me through the operation without feeling pain.

When I was young, my parents did volunteer work in different countries. I wanted to help people around the world too. So when I grew up, I became a doctor. I have now worked in many different countries helping people. My family and I have enjoyed being with the Latter-days Saints in these areas. They are so happy and hopeful. And they love Jesus Christ and His gospel.
My children often went to Primary with other children that didn’t look like them or speak the same language. But they were all Heavenly Father’s children. He knows and loves each one of us. We are each part of His family.

I’d like to tell you about a woman who grew up in a room filled with darkness—I’ll call her Jane.

From the time Jane was three years old, she was repeatedly beaten, belittled, and abused. She was threatened and mocked. She awoke each morning not knowing if she would survive until the next day. The people who should have protected her were those who tortured her or allowed the abuse to continue.

In order to protect herself, Jane learned to stop feeling. She had no hope of rescue, so she hardened herself to the horror of her reality. There was no light in her world, so she became resigned to the darkness. With a numbness that can come only from constant and unrelenting contact with evil, she accepted the fact that any moment might be her last.

Then, at age 18, Jane discovered The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. The joy and hope of the restored gospel penetrated her heart, and she accepted the invitation to be baptized. For the first time, light entered her life, and she saw a bright path before her. She left the darkness of her world and decided to attend school a great distance away from her abuser. At last she felt liberated from an environment of darkness and evil—free to enjoy the Savior’s sweet peace and miraculous healing.

However, years later, after her abuser had died, Jane was again troubled by the horrible events of her youth. Profound sadness and anger threatened to destroy the wonderful light she had found in the gospel. She realized that if she allowed that darkness to consume her, her tormentor would have a final victory.

She sought counseling and medical help and began to realize that, for her, the best path for healing was to understand and accept that darkness exists—but not to dwell there. For, as she now knew, light also exists—and that is where she chose to dwell.

Given her dark past, Jane could easily have become vindictive, venomous, or violent. But she didn’t. She resisted the temptation to spread the darkness, refusing to lash out in anger, hurt, or cynicism. Instead, she held fast to the hope that with God’s help she could be healed. She chose to radiate light and devote her life to helping others. This decision enabled her to leave the past behind and to step into a glorious, bright future.

She became a schoolteacher, and today, decades later, her love has influenced the lives of hundreds of children, helping them to know that they have worth, that they are important. She has become a tireless defender of the weak, the victimized, and the discouraged. She builds, strengthens, and inspires everyone around her.

Jane learned that healing comes when we move away from the darkness and walk toward the hope of a brighter light. It was in the practical application of faith, hope, and charity that she not only transformed her own life but forever blessed the lives of many, many others.

A few months ago I went to Edmonton for work. The weather conditions were bad, and I struggled to get there. I didn’t know the city and got lost. I needed to find a gas station that sold diesel.
I started to worry. I was on a time budget and needed to get home quickly. I started to call friends who were familiar with the area. I talked to a close friend who was able to direct me. I then called my mom who comforted me and helped me feel safe again. I ended my conversation so I could continue driving.
I drove for a while and started to think I had somehow missed my exit. Worry again came to my mind. I began to scan my surroundings to find any clue about where I was or if I was on the right track. As I rounded a corner, the Edmonton Alberta Temple came into view. It was beautiful and white, with a spire that soared into the air. I could see the golden statue of the angel Moroni. The Spirit flooded my heart, and all fear was swept away. The Spirit seemed to confirm to me that I was going in the right direction.
In my life, I know that sometimes I get scared or worried that I am not going the right way, that maybe I am not even on the right road. But the temple is my beacon, and it helps me to know when I am pointed in the right direction.
When we feel lost, we can look to the Lord and He will show the way. He will be there. He will come in a way that will best serve us.
May we all walk the path with eyes wide open so that we may see the hand of the Lord guiding and watching over our steps.

In November 2000, President Hinckley spoke to youth in a Churchwide fireside (see “A Prophet’s Counsel and Prayer for Youth,” Liahona, April 2001, 30–41). Have you young adults studied his message and identified things you need to avoid or do differently? I know a 17-year-old who just prior to the prophet’s talk had pierced her ears a second time.

She came home from the fireside, took off the second set of earrings, and said to her parents, “If President Hinckley says we should wear only one set of earrings, that’s good enough for me.”

Wearing two pairs of earrings may or may not have eternal consequences for this young woman, but her willingness to obey the prophet will. And if she will obey him now, on something relatively simple, how much easier it will be to follow him when greater issues are at stake.

In the April 2011 general conference, President Monson asked the members of the Church to make a contribution to the Church’s General Missionary Fund if they could. We collected aluminum cans for many months and then turned in the cans for recycling. We gave the money we received from recycling the cans to the General Missionary Fund. We each look forward to serving a mission one day. Our family loves to follow the prophet.
Rebecca, Wyatt, and Sarah W., ages 11, 8, and 9, Idaho

Diligence and Commitment. At the beginning of Elder Richards’ first mission to Holland in 1905, he was assigned work in the mission office. He felt the urgent need to learn the language and often felt hampered because of his lack of proficiency. He pushed to get the office work current so he could study Dutch. Beyond that, the spirit of his mission “rested mightily upon him.” He wrote, “I was so anxious to preach the gospel that I found myself arising before 5:00 AM. to study Dutch and get my office work done so I could go out tracting in the afternoon.” Day after day ke recorded that he distributed 50, 92, 110 tracts a day. His return calls to gather them yielded many gospel conversations, halting and incomplete as they no doubt were at first on his part. The kind of effort he was expending as a “part-time” missionary is made clear by the fact that, in comparison, other missionaries were giving out an average of only 197 tracts per missionary, per month, at the same time.

1 Let’s turn left on the next street.
2 Now let’s turn right.
3 Wait! I have a bad feeling about that street.
4 What kind of a bad feeling?
I—I don’t know. … Maybe the kind Sister Simon was telling us about—you know—about promptings by the Holy Ghost. I just know that I don’t want to go down there.
5 The next day
You know that street we didn’t go down yesterday?
Yeah, what about it?
There was a robbery there about the time we would’ve gone past!
6 Oh, no! I wonder …
Yeah, me too.

Brigham Young’s natural ability pushed him to the forefront. He was chosen one of the Camp’s captains. Frequently he preached. At times he was delegated to procure provisions. Always he closely observed Joseph Smith’s leadership and acquired experience. However, not all of the men yielded to Joseph’s leadership without murmuring. The difficulty of the march made weak-spirited men complain. “We had to be troubled with uneasy, unruly and discontented spirits,” Brigham Young recollected. “This was the first time we had ever travelled in the capacity of a large company … Brother Joseph led, counselled and guided the company, and contended against those unruly, evil disposed persons.” (Journal of Discourses 10:20.)

My fingers clenched the steering wheel as I stared anxiously at the red light. When it finally changed to green, I sped forward only to wait at another seemingly endless stoplight. I was still 10 minutes away from the lesson with the sister missionaries that was supposed to have started 5 minutes ago. If I had been a wiser mother, I would have predicted the 15-minute tantrum my almost-three-year-old daughter erupted into as we headed out the door, but I hadn’t. Yes, the world would go on if I was late, but since I was trying to do something good, didn’t I deserve at least some of the traffic lights to work in my favor? As I waited impatiently at yet another stoplight, I could feel my frustration tightening into anger. “I’m trying to do something good; trying my best! Where is the help I need?”
Eight months after my fourth miscarriage and just several weeks after my stressful drive to meet the sister missionaries, I was peacefully waiting at a stoplight on my way home when my answers came. As I watched the cars stopped next to me and the cars making their way down the road ahead of me, I caught an eternal perspective of my life. I suddenly realized that all that mattered in my journey was that I stay on the path that would take me back to my heavenly home. How many “stoplights” I waited at would have no effect on my destination. How I responded to them would.
I began to cherish every stoplight in my life, both metaphorical and literal. Instead of wasted time, each became an opportunity to acquire patience and to gain perspective that comes only through waiting. Just as every red traffic light is paired with a green light in a different direction, I found that every stoplight in my life opened an avenue for growth, just not necessarily in the way I had been planning to grow right then. Instead of dwelling on the disappointments, I began to delight in the opportunity for progress that every unexpected turn of events provided.