Gospel Story Finder

I am a level 5 gymnast at my gymnastics club, and I was having a very good season. The state meet was coming up, and if I did well in the state meet, I would qualify for region. But the region meet was going to be on a Sunday. I had been working so hard to get to this point, and I wanted to go, but I felt like I shouldn’t.
A couple days later was fast Sunday, and I told my mom and dad what I was going to fast for. Together with my family we fasted that I would know what the Lord wanted me to do. I fasted Saturday night, all the way to Sunday dinner. Boy, that was hard.
That night when I was sitting with my mom, I decided that I shouldn’t go. I felt good and peaceful about my decision. The next day my mom got an email saying the region meet was changed to Friday. The following week I competed at state and took first place all-around, and now I get to go to regions in Colorado.
I know my prayer was answered. My faith in fasting and prayer is a lot stronger.

In the September 1971 issue there appeared an article devoted to politics and why each Latter-day Saint has an obligation to become involved and see that capable men get elected to public office.
From my experience as administrative assistant and former campaign manager to California State Assemblyman Alister McAlister (also a member of the Church), I would like to make some suggestions as to how easy it is to become involved.
My own experiences in getting involved in politics form a pattern that many youth could duplicate. I graduated recently from San Jose State College in public relations but knew nothing of politics. I asked myself what type of work I wanted to do and decided that politics sounded interesting and rewarding, so I called my party’s local headquarters and asked who was running for office in my area.
At the time, I was editing the ward newspaper of Stanford Ward and was at the printer’s office checking some copy. I saw an issue of the San Jose Stake newspaper and noticed the name Alister McAlister. I remembered the name from my conversation with local headquarters. I called him that afternoon. Within a week I was his campaign manager. Of course, the first thing I did was to visit the library and take out some books on political campaigns.
Let me suggest what to do. First, in the U.S., if you are eighteen or older, you ought to pick a political party and register to vote. By reading newspapers and listening to radio and TV, you can find out what the leaders of the parties say, and this will give you an idea of where your views will be best represented.
In California many young people are not declaring any party affiliation, possibly because of not wanting to be tied to any party. Those who register as “decline to state” may be doing themselves a disservice because they are not allowed to vote in party primaries, thus not giving themselves an opportunity to choose the candidates who will run during the general election.
Registering to vote can be done in many places and takes no more than five minutes. Get information from your county’s registrar of voters.
Next, look for a candidate who will best represent your views. In doing so, if the candidate is already an elected official, check his voting record on issues of importance. Most major libraries keep copies of voting records. If you cannot find what you want, call your local representative’s office for help. If the candidate is not an office holder, check his past activities and the groups he belongs to, and sit down and discuss with him his views. Most aspiring candidates will be happy. to do this if they think they may get a good campaign worker as a result.
After you’ve picked a candidate, give him a call and express your desire to be of assistance. If he does not yet have a campaign office set up, call his party’s office and they’ll place you in contact with him. Chances are good, that you’ll be given duties immediately.
In Assemblyman McAllister’s victorious campaign, many young people were involved. The only qualifications required were a willingness to work and the possession of common sense. Duties for volunteers depend greatly upon the time they wish to donate. Assignments range from putting on major campaign dinners or assisting with advertising to stuffing envelopes and licking stamps. As campaign manager, I got to do my share of the mundane jobs as well as the important ones.
With some common sense and hard work you can make a difference in the election of a local official and give valued service and strength to state and national campaigns. I urge other Latter-day Saint youth to become involved as the Doctrine and Covenants instructs us to do.

Take just a moment now and think about the choices below:
You really want to take some art and graphics classes, but you wonder if you have the time to take them and play basketball and do well in your core classes, too. What do you do?
A friend you haven’t seen for a while wants you to go to a new movie you’re dying to see. You haven’t put your day’s mileage in yet (remember, you ought to jog but you tend to put it off), and you know you’ll never do it if you go with your friend. What do you tell her?
You would love to have one best goofing-around friend—the kind of friend you tell everything, call anytime. To develop that type of relationship, however, you’ll have to slack off on some of your responsibilities at school.
Easy choices to make? They weren’t always easy for Dylann. “It’s a real effort to not be distracted, to stay motivated,” she notes. Of her senior year she says, “I found myself without one really close friend.” And although Dylann is an exceptional student (she has been honored nearly as much for her academic achievements as for her athletic ability), she admits that her “grades did suffer a little bit. I could have had A’s in things I got B’s in.” All this led Dylann to write about certain regrets in her Sterling Scholar Portfolio last spring: “Sometimes, although I’ve tried to fill my life with exciting and interesting activities, I feel a touch of regret that I haven’t had enough time to pursue everything that I would like to experience. I have not had time to study as much as I would like nor have I practiced the guitar and the piano to my satisfaction.”
To get some things, you often have to give up other things. Many of us have a hard time accepting this truism emotionally: we want it all and refuse to choose what matters most. Thus our energy and talents dissipate into a thin cloud of indecision. Not so for Dylann. She knows how to choose, and she isn’t afraid to do it.
This is not to suggest that Dylann doesn’t have a lot of fun on her way to being the best. Although she couldn’t do everything she wanted to in high school, she still made time to take advanced placement classes, to sing, to participate in student government, to order out at a local drive-in.
At present, Dylann is a freshman at Brigham Young University on a full-ride scholarship, majoring in electrical engineering. She is also a member of the Y’s top-ranked women’s volleyball team.
Volleyball? I do a quick double take. Now why would a high school basketball superstar like Dylann Duncan decide to switch sports?
“My height isn’t outstanding for basketball anymore,” she points out, smiling. Besides, she was ready for a new challenge and Dylann liked Coach Elaine Michaelis and her program. “Anyway,” Dylann laughs, “volleyball is a lot more fun.” Typical Dylann.
In her Sterling Scholar Portfolio Dylann spoke of regrets. But she also spoke optimistically of the future: “In the vast life ahead of me,” she said, “I will change my regrets to actions.” It seems that Dylann is well on her way to doing just that.

After his baptism, Jorge had to forgo many social customs associated with his budding banking career. At first he was the target of teasing and jokes from co-workers who were curious to see how long he could go without a drink or a cigarette. But Jorge remained faithful to his covenants, and his critics eventually became his greatest protectors from those who tried to pressure him into disregarding the Word of Wisdom.

When I was in junior high, my parents got divorced. Because of that, there was a lot of tension in my family, and my two oldest siblings moved away. My other brother was struggling a lot and often had trouble with the law, so it was usually just me and my younger siblings at home with my mom. During this time, I couldn’t help but sense that my family didn’t feel whole. We slowly stopped praying together, and we didn’t have family home evenings anymore. I felt lonely, and not just at home—at school I felt like I couldn’t fit in and didn’t have any friends.
When I got to high school, I started seminary. I immediately felt a difference. Seminary felt like a home with a family in it—my new source of spiritual strength.
In seminary, I learned how to study the scriptures and understand their teachings, which helped me to go home and teach my family about the gospel more clearly. I also learned the importance of prayer and was able to bring my family together to have family prayer. After a while, my experiences in seminary even gave me the courage to help out with family home evenings again. It had a great impact on us and made our spirits stronger. We felt like a family again.

While living in Winter Quarters, she and her brother went down the Missouri River to purchase provisions and clothing. They had two wagons, each having two yoke of oxen. Camping for the night, they discovered in the morning that their two best oxen were gone. Young Joseph and his uncle spent the entire morning looking for the lost animals. They found nothing. Disheartened, he returned to tell his mother. Their situation was desperate, terribly so. As he approached, he saw her on her knees praying fervently, speaking with the Lord about their problem. When she arose to her feet, there was a smile on her face. She told her son and her brother to get their breakfast and she would look around. Following a little stream of water, and disregarding the words of a man who was in the area, she went directly along the bank of the river.
Pausing, she called to her son and brother. She pointed to their oxen, which had been tied to a clump of willows growing in the bottom of a deep gulch. The thief, who had tried to misdirect her, lost his prize and they were saved.

Mary’s faith imprinted itself in her son’s boyish heart. He never forgot it. He never doubted her closeness to the Lord.

In my enthusiasm and excitement on my first day of service as a mission president, I asked the zone leaders I had invited to my home, “How much of a typical day in missionary service are you normally under the vibrating, powerful influence of the Spirit?”
They obviously did not know what to say. They acted like I had caught them by surprise. Having been converted to the Church as an adult and not having served as a young, full-time missionary, I assumed it was natural that a missionary would be always under the influence of the Spirit. How surprised I was when no missionary was saying anything.
Finally, one of them spoke up. “Last Thursday night, while we were teaching the Lehman family, we were feeling the Spirit.”
I remember my immediate response was, “That was it? How about the rest of the day?”
As soon as I asked my zone leaders what they experience when they are under the influence of the Spirit, they were all participating, describing the different effects the Spirit has in our lives. They agreed that being under the influence of the Spirit fills us with satisfying joy. It enhances our ability to make necessary adjustments, even in the most difficult circumstances. This Spirit helps us develop our intellectual capabilities and even delivers the motivation to use them. The zone leaders agreed that under the influence of the Spirit, some things that can seem uncomfortable, like hard work, getting up on time, going the extra mile, overcoming homesickness, overcoming flaws of character, and other personal sacrifices, become easier.
It became clear that, under the influence of the Spirit, we are empowered to act in wisdom. We see the complexity of a problem in its simple parts and see possible solutions unfolding in front of our eyes, to our own surprise. In other words, our creativity is developed and multiplied. That which is a burden without it becomes a privilege when we are under the influence of the Holy Spirit.
Many times in our lives it happens that the gifts of the Spirit rest dormant in us. We are not even aware of the full extent of their existence, as it was with my missionaries. Did they not have the Spirit? Of course they did. They had even passed the test of forsaking their own self-centered plans to become sacred witnesses for the Lord Jesus Christ. Still they had not fully understood the workings of the Spirit.
Why did the one elder feel the Spirit as he was teaching the Lehman family? Because at that time he and his companion were completely focused in their search for divine guidance. Too often we are not aware of the powerful gift which rests dormant in us. We cannot be grateful for that of which we are not aware, nor can we activate its power.

After graduation I headed off to Brigham Young University. While there, I kept pondering a part of my patriarchal blessing that mentions sharing the gospel. In the past, I’d always thought, “There’s no way I can ever serve a full-time mission. It’s too risky with CF!” In addition to the health risks, I was afraid my daily treatment routine wouldn’t fit with a typical missionary schedule.
Still, the thought wouldn’t go away. Could I actually serve a mission?
As I pondered and prayed, I kept thinking about my favorite scripture. In Mosiah 2:20–21, King Benjamin taught how the Lord had “kept and preserved” His people, “lending [them] breath” each day. These scriptures helped me see how the Lord had “kept and preserved” me.
Though I was still a bit scared, I knew it was God’s will for me to serve. I received a doctor’s clearance, submitted my papers, and was called to serve a mission. I believed the scripture that teaches that God is “supporting [me] from one moment to another” (Mosiah 2:21). As I served my mission in Boston, Massachusetts, that promise was definitely fulfilled.
My mission days were a treasure. One of the greatest blessings was developing a deeper relationship with Heavenly Father and with Jesus Christ. Part of that closeness meant achieving a better understanding of Their will concerning me, including the importance of safeguarding my health.
As a missionary, you’re focused on serving others. Yet I knew that to stay on my mission, I had to remain healthy. I decided to never miss a lung treatment. I would exercise every morning. And I would maintain good eating habits.
As a result, I was better able to be His instrument and serve others. It was a valuable lesson to know I can still serve, even with my illness. I’ve learned that what you can do, despite any limitations you have, is much better to focus on than what you can’t do.

Get out the scrapbooks with the clippings and photographs of Holly’s skating career, and the picture of her after the first competition will tell you all you need to know about why she has been successful. There she is at six-and-a-half, standing in third place holding her little ribbon, with her eyes glued on the trophy in the first-place winner’s hands. The look in her eye is everything. It is a look of pure resolve, a look that says next time the trophy will be hers.
Holly’s mother, Marge, noticed the look also. “That’s when I realized her determination. The girl who placed above her had an axel in her routine. Holly didn’t do that yet. She came home and went right to work learning it. I realized then that she had something special. She would fall and fall but keep on trying.”

Our Heavenly Father is infinitely kind. When we keep his commandments, he “doth immediately bless” us (Mosiah 2:24). As we remember his kindnesses, we are again blessed, and our confidence in him grows stronger. Another sister, assigned to help the young women in her ward prepare for a sacrament meeting program, felt a spirit of peace, even though their final practice had concluded in confusion. She reflected, “We had practiced diligently. We had been called by God through his servants to this assignment. I had seen his blessings in similar situations in the past, and I knew that we could trust in him. We felt his Spirit during the program.”

The story of the Willie and Martin handcart companies has become symbolic of the faith and hope of the early pioneers. It is a miracle that only about 200 of approximately 1,000 company members died.8 The faith-filled and hope-filled effort of their rescuers, accompanied by divine assistance, saved the handcart companies.9
After leaving the Salt Lake Valley, the rescuers were hit by the same early, severe, and unrelenting winter storms that engulfed the handcart companies. In the face of nature’s ferocity, some of the rescuers faltered in their faith, lost hope, and turned back.
In contrast, Reddick Allred steadfastly manned a rescue station for three weeks in hazardous winter weather. When another rescuer tried to persuade Brother Allred to join him in turning back, Reddick refused:
“I declined his proposition, and … advised him to stay, for the lives of the company depended up[on] us,” he wrote in his journal. “He then … moved that as I was president of the station, they center their faith in me, that I should get the word of the Lord to know what we must do. To this I objected as [the Lord] already said what he would [have us] do.”10
Such unwavering faith in times of trial creates steadfast men and women and gives sure, steady direction when potentially disorienting storms rage. One of the fruits of such faith is that those who possess it will be in a position to nurture, rescue, and bless others. Imagine the warmth Reddick Allred felt as he saw the handcart company come into his station. Imagine the joy the company felt when they saw him!

When an eighteen-month-old Bolivian boy, Danny, was flown to Primary Children’s Medical Center in Salt Lake City for corrective surgery on his feet and hips, Relief Society sisters devotedly cared for him during his three-month recovery period.

Holladay Utah North Stake Relief Society president Sharon Kasteler reports, “The sisters who cared for Danny have the heart of the gospel in their lives today because they have shared and given.”

“Some two or three years after I was baptized, one day while I was studying, I began to reflect upon the fact that I had not obtained a knowledge of the truth of that work—that I had not realized the fulfillment of that promise, he that doeth my will shall know of the doctrine, (see John 7:17) and I began to feel very uneasy. I laid aside my books, left the house, and wandered around through the fields under the oppressive influence of a gloomy, disconsolate spirit, while an indescribable cloud of darkness seemed to envelop me. I had been accustomed, at the close of day, to go for secret prayer, to a grove a short distance from my lodgings, but at this time I felt no inclination to do so. The spirit of prayer had departed and the heavens seemed like brass over my head. At length, realizing that the usual time had come for secret prayer, I concluded I would not forgo my evening service, and, as a matter of formality, knelt as I was in the habit of doing, and in my accustomed place, but no feeling as I was used to feeling. I had no sooner opened my lips in an effort to pray, than I heard a sound, just above my head, like the rustling of silken robes, and immediately the spirit of God descended upon me, completely enveloping my whole person, filling me from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet, and O the joy and happiness I felt! No language can describe the almost instantaneous transition from a dense cloud of mental and spiritual darkness into a refulgence of light and knowledge that God lives, that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, and of the restoration of the Holy Priesthood, and the fullness of the Gospel. It was a complete baptism—a tangible immersion in the heavenly principle or element, the Holy Ghost; and even more real and physical in its affects upon every part of my system than the immersion by water; dispelling forever, so long as reason and memory last, all possibility of doubt or fear in relation to the fact handed down to us historically that the ‘babe of Bethlehem’ is truly the Son of God; and also the fact that He is now being revealed to the children of men, and communicating knowledge, the same as in the apostolic times. I was perfectly satisfied, as well I might be, for my expectations were more than realized; I think I may safely say, in an infinite degree.
“I cannot tell how long I remained in the full flow of the blissful enjoyment and divine enlightenment, but it was several minutes before the celestial element which filled and surrounded me began gradually to withdraw. On arising from my kneeling posture, with my heart swelling with gratitude to God, beyond the power of expression, I felt—I knew that he had conferred on me what only an omnipotent being can confer—that which is of greater value than all the wealth and honors the world can bestow. That night as I retired to rest, the same wonderful manifestations were repeated, and continued to be for several successive nights. The sweet remembrance of those glorious experiences, from that time to the present, brings them fresh before me, imparting an inspiring influence which pervades my whole being, and I trust will to the close of my earthly existence.” (Preston Nibley, The Presidents of the Church (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Company, 1974), Chapter 5, paragraphs 10–12, pp. 139–140.)
Lorenzo Snow

David, of Utah, USA, had some health concerns that forced him to finally retire at age 72. While he recovered, his wife, Sheila, continued serving as ward Relief Society president. When she was released, they talked with their bishop about other service opportunities, and the bishop suggested that David could use his experience as a human resources administrator and Sheila could use her background as an employment counselor to serve at a Church employment center.

They were soon called on a service mission. “We love it,” David says. “We both get to do things we know how to do, and we can serve at our own pace.”

Hi! My name is Brady. I live in California, USA. I shine my light by helping other kids.
My friend Ryder wanted to earn money to buy toys for children who need extra love and help. I wanted to do something to help too. I decided to make cards. I could sell them to friends, neighbors, and even people I didn’t know.
My whole family helped me with the cards. My mom has cancer, but she still helped a lot. My brothers helped make new designs. My favorite cards had ghosts on them for Halloween.
With the help of my family and friends, I raised a lot of money! I gave most of it to help foster kids. Then I heard about some refugees. They had to leave their countries to find safety. My family and I bought art supplies, water bottles, balls, and other things for them.
We got to meet some of the refugee children. They showed us on a map where they were from. Many even had to leave their families! It made me feel thankful for my blessings.

My dad was what I’d call an urban farmer. No, we didn’t raise crops in a metropolis. We built swimming pools.
The problem with the swimming pool business in Philadelphia is that it’s impossible to build a pool in a Pennsylvania winter. That meant Dad would do all the work he could between April and October, and then hope he had enough money to last us through the winter. Dad would pick up odd jobs to make ends meet.
I think I was about 14 or 15 when I helped Dad deliver salt. During breakfast one snowy day after early-morning seminary, Dad asked me if I would help him after school. Since basketball season hadn’t started yet, I said I would.
That day we put on our coats and boots and climbed into the truck that was normally used only in the summertime. We drove to the docks on the Delaware River in downtown Philadelphia where Dad pulled over and went into the office. Soon he came out and we drove through the gate and into the yard. Before long, we were loading several bags of road salt onto the back of the truck as snow began to fall.
Off we went, with Dad doing the driving and me doing the navigating. With the addresses and a street map, I tried to plot out the most efficient route for us to take.
We began near the historic area of the city. We drove by the Liberty Bell and into the business district. There wasn’t a place to park, so Dad just stopped the truck in the middle of the road and put on the flashers. We jumped out and carried three bags of salt into a small clock shop.
One of our next stops was a men’s clothing store. Dad made the owner laugh with one of his jokes as we carried the salt through the falling snow. After a few more deliveries, we went into a poorer neighborhood and delivered a single bag of salt to a small deli. The man there spoke with an Italian accent. I carried the salt as Dad talked with the man and had him sign the delivery papers.
The rest of the afternoon was spent in the low-income areas of Philadelphia. There were small grocery stores, laundromats, pawn shops, and hardware stores. And at each of the stops, Dad treated each person with dignity and respect—and often made them laugh.
Several weeks went by, and each afternoon delivery brought new insights, new observations, and new talks with Dad. We talked about all kinds of things—world events, Church doctrine, sports. Once Dad tried to talk about what kinds of girls I liked, but I wouldn’t let him. So he changed the subject.
There were lots of things I learned the winter I delivered salt. I learned that Dad was willing to “dig a few ditches,” as he would say, to provide for our family. I learned you can actually talk to your dad about things that really matter—things like testimony, friends, and relationships.
But looking back, one of the most important lessons I learned is that we truly are the “salt of the earth.” Dad made everyone smile despite the weather or their life’s status. It didn’t matter if we were delivering to a woman managing a laundromat in the slums, or a man who owned a tailor shop in uptown Philly. Dad cheered all of them with his jokes, his attitude, and the respect he showed them. At least for that winter, Dad was the salt of Philadelphia in more ways than one.

“I’m going to be honest,” Tyreece says. “The only reason I wanted to become a member was to be with a girl.” He was 17 when he met her and had no idea that their growing friendship would change his life.
At first, she hesitated to tell Tyreece that she was a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints—she worried he might unfairly judge her. Instead, his reaction was: “Oh yeah? So how do you become a member?” This led to an in-depth discussion about the gospel of Jesus Christ and the standards that Latter-day Saints try to live by. Then she explained her own commitment that she would only marry a returned missionary.
“I’ll do it,” was Tyreece’s immediate reply. He decided then and there that he would join the Church and serve a mission. She was worth it.
The very next day, he went missionary hunting. “You know how missionaries hunt for nonmembers or less-active members?” he explains. “I was hunting for missionaries—looking for them.” Tyreece started by asking his schoolmates and discovered that one of his friends, Siale Aloua, was a member of the Church. Siale confirmed that Tyreece should definitely talk to the missionaries, but in the meantime, he was happy to answer any questions Tyreece had.
One day, while heading home from school, Tyreece spotted, far in the distance, two young men in white shirts, walking together down the road. “Straightaway I ran after them!” Just as Tyreece was catching up, the missionaries entered a house. “So, I waited outside, across the road, for nearly an hour just to talk to them.”
When the missionaries finally emerged from the house, Tyreece rushed over and introduced himself, then told them he wanted to join their Church. The missionaries were understandably stunned and excited, but they told Tyreece that he had a lot to learn first. Less than 24 hours later, they taught him the first missionary discussion at a nearby park.
“I really wanted that lesson, ASAP, because the only thing on my mind was to become a returned missionary. So, I was trying to become a member as fast as I could.” But things didn’t work out the way he hoped. Heavenly Father had a different plan.
Around this time, Tyreece’s relationship with his parents was difficult, and he acknowledges his part in the problem. “I was like, talking back, disrespectful and all that, and my parents threatened to kick me out because they couldn’t handle me.”
When Tyreece returned home from his first lesson with the missionaries, he found all his belongings strewn about. “That’s how bad my parents wanted to get rid of me,” he says. But he thought about the pamphlet the missionaries had just given him about the gospel of Jesus Christ; and remembered the invitation they had extended to him: to go home and pray to Heavenly Father. Instead of reacting to the circumstances, Tyreece says, “I just ignored it all and I just did a prayer.”
He immediately felt the Holy Spirit. The feeling came with a sense of clarity, even at such an unsettling time for him. He stayed with a friend for a few days, then decided to reach out to the missionaries, to explain his home situation and ask for advice. Within five minutes, the missionaries found him board with a family in their ward. It was then that Tyreece knew in his heart that Heavenly Father is real, and that he could put all his trust and faith in Him.
“I ended up staying with the family for a while,” Tyreece says. During his time with them, he continued to receive lessons from the missionaries, participated in the Church’s youth and then young single adult programmes, and was able to learn the routines of a Latter-day Saint home. He began to truly study the scriptures, and when he discovered the Lord’s commandment to honour our parents, Tyreece knew he had to make things right with his own family.
He and his parents started talking again and slowly rebuilt their relationship. His mother even started attending Church with him—she wanted to know the cause of her son’s change of heart. Around this time, Tyreece witnessed his friend Siale prepare for and be called to serve in the Brisbane Australia Mission. His testimony of the Church continued to grow and to strengthen. He just knew that all the blessings pouring into his life came from his choice to follow the teachings of Jesus Christ.
Over a year after his first meeting with the missionaries, with his parents in attendance to support him, Tyreece entered the waters of baptism and became a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He is currently preparing to serve a mission, but more importantly, Tyreece can confidently declare: “Even though I started this journey for someone else, my testimony of the gospel is now my own.”
Tyreece’s progress in the Church has not gone unnoticed. At the end of 2022, he was asked to speak at the Auckland Papatoetoe Stake conference, where he bore his testimony:
“I know this Church is true. I know that when your faith in Heavenly Father is strong, He will bless you and your family for all eternity. I know that when you follow Heavenly Father’s commandments, He will guide you and your family to the right path . . . I have seen it with my own eyes and through experience. Now I want to help guide families towards Heavenly Father, so they can be together forever for all eternity.”

It was a cold spring in Denmark. I had just begun my full-time mission, and my testimony was struggling. I was a convert of only 19 months and full of insecurities about facing a foreign country, a language I couldn’t speak, and a maze of streets I couldn’t fathom navigating. My once gratitude-filled prayers soon became sour accusations: “God, why have you left me all alone?”
One morning I pled with Him in prayer. But instead of asking “why” with anger in my heart, I begged for a witness of the gospel’s truth and suppression of my doubts.
After praying, I flipped my scriptures open. I landed on Deuteronomy 31:6: “Be strong and of a good courage, fear not, nor be afraid of them: for the Lord thy God, he it is that doth go with thee; he will not fail thee, nor forsake thee.”
My heart was full of joy as I realized the answer to my prayer: God had been there all along. He was simply waiting for sincere prayer rather than accusations of abandonment.
God will never leave me, even when all seems hopeless. And we can feel His sunshine through prayer and His scriptures.

On a recent assignment in the Philippines, I met Karen, who shared an experience she had as a Laurel while studying for a bachelor’s degree in hotel and restaurant management. A teacher required that every student learn to make and taste the variety of drinks that would be served in their restaurants. Some of the drinks contained alcohol, and Karen knew it was against the Lord’s commandments for her to taste them. In the face of serious consequences, Karen found courage to arise and shine forth, and she did not partake of the drinks.

Karen explained: “My teacher approached me and asked me why I was not drinking. He said, ‘Miss Karen, how will you know the flavor and pass this important subject if you do not at least taste the drinks?’ I told him that I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and as members, we do not drink things that are harmful to us. Whatever he expected of me, even if it meant receiving a failing grade, I would understand, but I would not fail to live my personal standards.”

Weeks passed, and nothing more was said about that day. At the end of the semester, Karen knew her final grade would reflect her refusal to taste the drinks. She hesitated to look at her grade, but when she did, she discovered that she had received the highest grade in the class.

She said: “I learned through this experience that God … will surely bless us when we follow Him. I also know that even if I had received a failing grade, I would not regret what I had done. I know that I will never fail in the Lord’s sight when I choose to do what I know to be the right thing.”15

Corrie ten Boom, a devout Dutch Christian woman, found such healing despite having been interned in concentration camps during World War II. She suffered greatly, but unlike her beloved sister Betsie, who perished in one of the camps, Corrie survived.

After the war she often spoke publicly of her experiences and of healing and forgiveness. On one occasion a former Nazi guard who had been part of Corrie’s own grievous confinement in Ravensbrück, Germany, approached her, rejoicing at her message of Christ’s forgiveness and love.

“‘How grateful I am for your message, Fraulein,’ he said. ‘To think that, as you say, He has washed my sins away!’

“His hand was thrust out to shake mine,” Corrie recalled. “And I, who had preached so often … the need to forgive, kept my hand at my side.

“Even as the angry, vengeful thoughts boiled through me, I saw the sin of them. … Lord Jesus, I prayed, forgive me and help me to forgive him.

“I tried to smile, [and] I struggled to raise my hand. I could not. I felt nothing, not the slightest spark of warmth or charity. And so again I breathed a silent prayer. Jesus, I cannot forgive him. Give me Your forgiveness.

“As I took his hand the most incredible thing happened. From my shoulder along my arm and through my hand a current seemed to pass from me to him, while into my heart sprang a love for this stranger that almost overwhelmed me.

“And so I discovered that it is not on our forgiveness any more than on our goodness that the world’s healing hinges, but on His. When He tells us to love our enemies, He gives, along with the command, the love itself.”1

Corrie ten Boom was made whole.