Gospel Story Finder

An additional example of the belonging and obligation that comes with our family names is found in this account of President George Albert Smith. "Once, when President George Albert Smith was seriously ill, he lost consciousness and thought he had died. He found himself standing near a beautiful lake. Soon he began following a trail through the woods, and after a time he saw a man, whom he recognized as his grandfather, coming toward him." [2] His grandfather, George A. Smith, had been ordained an apostle by Joseph Smith and served as a member of the First Presidency under President Brigham Young. [3]
President Smith said, "I remember how happy I was to see him coming, I had been given his name and had always been proud of it. When Grandfather came within a few feet of me . . . he looked at me very earnestly and said: 'I would like to know what you have done with my name.' Everything I had ever done passed before me as though it were a flying picture on a screen--everything I had done. . . . I smiled and looked at my grandfather and said: 'I have never done anything with your name of which you need be ashamed.' He stepped forward and took me in his arms." [4]

Now for some more good news: Not only can your integrity of heart be maintained, it can actually become strengthened. A testimony of the gospel is one of the most important fortifiers we know. So taught Elder Orson Pratt, who faced the burden of leadership imposed upon him. He knew that “it required a witness independent of the testimony of others” (JD 12:85). So Brother Pratt once confided:

I sought for this witness. I did not receive it immediately, but when the Lord saw the integrity of my heart and the anxiety of my mind—when He saw that I was willing to travel hundreds of miles for the sake of learning the principles of the truth, He gave me a testimony for myself, which conferred upon me the most perfect knowledge that Joseph Smith was a true prophet, and that this book, called the Book of Mormon, was in reality a Divine revelation, and that God had once more, in reality, spoken to the human family. What joy this knowledge gave me! No language that I am acquainted with could describe the sensations I experienced when I received a knowledge from Heaven of the truth of this work. [JD 12:85]

Just as Orson Pratt’s unshakable testimony fortified him for great trials ahead, your personal testimony will strengthen you for challenges that are yet to come.

A true story from the USA.
“My game is tomorrow, right?” Lucy asked as Mom tucked her in bed.
Mom nodded. “Yes! Tomorrow night at 6:00.”
Lucy could hardly wait. She had been looking forward to her team’s first softball game for weeks. And this year their jerseys were pink! She was so excited it was hard to fall asleep.
But the next morning, Lucy looked out the window and frowned. Grumpy gray clouds hung in the sky, and puddles were everywhere. It had rained all night.
She knelt to say her morning prayer. “Dear Heavenly Father, please help the weather to be good for my softball game tonight.”
All day at school, Lucy thought about the game. She pictured herself wearing her new pink jersey, reaching up to make a winning catch. But outside, it was still rainy and wet.
Lucy said a quick prayer in her mind. Heavenly Father, please help the sun to come out soon so we can play tonight.
When the school bell rang, Lucy grabbed her backpack and ran outside. She could see the sun starting to peek out from behind the clouds!
But when Mom came to pick her up, she had bad news. “The game for tonight is canceled,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
Lucy looked at the sky. “The sun is coming out, though. Maybe the rain will stop.”
“I know,” said Mom. “But the softball field flooded from all the water. So even if it stops raining, it’s too wet and muddy to play. They’ll reschedule the game for another time.”
Hot tears welled up in Lucy’s eyes. She was so disappointed! She really, really wanted to play tonight. Why didn’t Heavenly Father answer her prayers?
At home, Lucy felt as gray and grumpy as the rain clouds. She didn’t feel like reading her favorite book. And even though Mom made her favorite pasta for dinner, it didn’t taste as good.
After dinner, Lucy’s littlest sister, Ellie, crawled on her lap. “Play with me?” she asked.
Lucy sighed. “Sure,” she said. Then she had an idea. “We need something fun to do.”
She grabbed a broom and tied a scarf to the end of it to make a flag. Then she gathered all her sisters. She held up the flag and said, “Welcome to Camp Rainy Day! It’s where you go to have fun when you can’t play outside.”
Her sisters cheered.
“First,” Lucy said, “we’ll sing our camp song.”
The girls giggled as they made up a silly song and words to go with it. Then they marched around the room with their flag, singing as loud as they could.
“Now we need to set up our tent!” Lucy helped her sisters gather blankets and pillows to make a fort. It toppled over a few times. But when they fixed it, they all huddled inside the fort to play games.
Soon it was time for bed. “I hope it rains again tomorrow,” said Lucy’s sister Liza. “I want to play Camp Rainy Day again!”
“Thanks for playing with your sisters,” Mom said as she hugged Lucy goodnight. “You made your own sunshine out of a cloudy situation. I’m proud of you.”
Lucy felt happy as she climbed into bed. Her prayers weren’t answered the way she wanted. But Heavenly Father had still helped her find something fun to do with her family—and that was just as fun as wearing pink at her first softball game.
Illustrations by Apryl Stott

It all started with the surprise gift Dad brought home to his three daughters. Peering inside a chirping cardboard box, we girls squealed with delight. Baby ducklings! We couldn’t wait to reach in and grab one. We jostled Dad so much, he almost dropped the box.
“Take it easy, girls!” he chuckled. “There’s one for each of you!”
I was surprised at how tiny that little duckling felt in my hand. In my gentle clasp, its warm body felt like the size of a quarter, and it weighed about as much too.
“Wow, it’s so light!” I exclaimed. “No wonder baby ducks can float!”
Dad laughed again as he walked off to join Mom in the kitchen. Dad was big on surprises, especially the ones that made his family smile. That’s when I remembered the wading pool. It would be the perfect home for our new ducks.
“Nora, get that old plastic pool out of the garage,” I ordered my sister.
With our backyard hose pumping clear, cool water into the pool, we began to examine our ducks and set about to name them. Mine had a little speck of brown on his rounded bill and ridiculously giant webbed feet.
Suddenly I remembered my friends. They would laugh at how enthusiastic I was over these new pets. Then I realized my friends wouldn’t be by for the next few days. Their parents had given them permission to go camping in the nearby mountains. Bike riding on an old dirt trail, choosing a campsite, pitching a tent. They’d have a ton of fun and be home the next day, laughing and talking about their campout. My mom hadn’t given me permission. She said I was too young!
With the wading pool full, we girls gathered around, greatly anticipating this moment. We set our flapping, quacking birds on the water and ZOOM, right to the bottom. All three sank!
We plunged our hands into the pool and rescued the poor choking birds. What had gone wrong? We weren’t asking them to do something difficult, like swim. All they had to do was float. Isn’t that easy for a duck?
“What happened?” my sister wondered.
“Maybe we surprised them!”
We all agreed it was like babies when they learn how to walk. They just have to fall sometimes. We agreed to give it another try.
“One, two, three, go!”
Plunk! Plunk! Plunk! straight down like balls of lead.
Fortunately for the ducklings, none of us had the heart to follow through on our theory that they just needed practice. When Nora suggested we use the blow dryer on their feathers, we all scrambled into the house. Gently, my two sisters aired out the poor birds with my pink blow dryer while I looked up the phone number from the name on the cardboard box.
“Hello, sir? We’re the ones that just bought—well, our dad just bought—three little ducklings. Yes, sir. Well, there is a problem with our ducks. You see, we prefer our ducks to float.”
What this man had to say was an eye-opener for me. I didn’t realize I had learned quite so much until I heard myself explain it to Nora and Suzy: “You see, the downy feathers do not repel water. They soak it right up. We have to wait another week or two for their bodies to make the waxy oil that will waterproof their feathers.”
“But that’s not true,” Nora argued. “I’ve seen baby ducks follow their mother on the river. They were just a few days old.”
“The man explained that to me. When ducks are born, the mother wraps her wings around the babies to keep them warm. The oil from the mother’s wings rubs off onto her babies. With their mother, they can stay afloat. On their own, they need to get a little older before they’re safe in the water.”
That’s when my brain trailed off to the mountains somewhere, thinking about my friends in their tent. Maybe Mom just wanted to keep me under her wings for a little while longer. I stroked my duckling’s tiny back with one finger.
“We’ll keep you out of the pool for now, little one,” I promised him. Then, as an afterthought, I added, “Do you miss your mom?”

My dad and I were taking a walk around the neighborhood when I saw a TV remote control lying on the ground. I picked it up and asked my dad if I could look for the owner. He said yes, so I rang some doorbells. At one house the man said, “It’s not mine.” I rang another doorbell, and the man said, “It’s mine,” so I gave it to him. I left feeling good inside. As I was walking home, the man came up to me and said, “Thanks for being honest.” I said, “Thank you!” and went home. I’m glad I was honest.

May I use two examples to illustrate the ways in which students can contribute to this objective. The first comes in the form of a letter written to Janet Scharman, dean of Student Life. The letter describes the service rendered by a BYU student to a stranger and the feelings engendered in the recipient:

A few months ago, I was driving home from Salt Lake, and my car broke down on the very dark and snowy main road of Tooele. The snow was coming down hard and . . . the road was very dark. I didn’t know what to do, and I didn’t want to call my wife . . . and subject her and our six-year-old son to the extreme and dangerous weather conditions. I was thinking about walking the two to three miles home when a car pulled up behind me on the side of the road. I walked back to the car, and the driver asked me if I needed any help. I told him that my car lost power, and I didn’t know what could have happened. He said that he’d be more than happy to give me a lift home. . . . I asked where he lived in Tooele. . . . He said he didn’t live in Tooele. He was on his way back to BYU, saw that I was broken down, and turned around to help! I couldn’t believe it! He had all that driving to do on a dark snowy night, and he took his valuable driving time (and personal safety) to help a total stranger! . . . I explained to him that I was from the California Bay Area, and this type of thing is just unheard of! . . . I was so happy and ecstatic with him that I asked for his name and who to write to at BYU. Needless to say, [the young man] was very humble and said, “Oh, don’t worry about it, they don’t even know who I am. You don’t need to do that.” I told him that I did need to. . . . Janet, please find [this young man]. Let him know that “they” do know who he is and that BYU should be proud to have someone like him representing their school.13

The story illustrates the power of serving others. When one forgets oneself and reaches out to help a person in need, a friendship begins. It is my understanding that the letter has been made known to our student, and he is to be commended for representing himself and the school so well.

Some years ago I was in Washington, D.C., on business, and the planes of five major airlines were grounded. It was imperative that I get back to Utah as soon as possible since I had some research that needed to be attended to, some classes to teach, and some Church responsibilities to discharge. I decided to go to the terminal in the wee hours when most people don’t like to travel. By going from one airline office to another I finally arranged for a flight to Chicago. I did the same thing at Chicago and finally got to Denver. I thought I would have no problem getting to Salt Lake from Denver because there were three airlines that had planes flying that route, but that is where the problem really became difficult. I just couldn’t get a plane to work it out. I took an airplane that was headed for Phoenix, Arizona, got off at Farmingion, New Mexico, intercepted a plane that was headed for Salt Lake City from El Paso, Texas, and I had it made.
But you know, as I sat in those terminals hour after hour after hour, I looked out on the runways and saw those magnificent jet planes—each one costing millions of dollars, each one having a tremendous potential to do a transportation job for me and for thousands of other people who were caught in the same fix I was—but what were they doing? Nothing. Why? Because there was no one who could or would step on the starter, or step on the gas, so to speak. Thus many were stranded.

Kathy is a graduate from BYU’s College of Nursing and is a registered nurse. Years ago our daughter Sarah was a little under the weather and had a bit of a fever. There was really nothing to cause more than usual concern. But as Kathy walked past our bookshelf and saw her nursing books, she had a distinct thought, “I ought to read up on what to do if someone has a fever seizure.” Thankfully, she responded to the prompting and pulled out the book and reviewed the proper care for fever seizures. Not too long after Kathy finished the review, Sarah’s fever spiked and she started having seizures. Kathy was able to render the appropriate care until we could get Sarah to the hospital.

In April 1973, my parents and I traveled from our native Argentina to be sealed in the temple. Since there were no temples in all of Latin America at the time, we flew more than 6,000 miles (9,700 km) each way to be sealed in the Salt Lake Temple. Although I was just two years of age at the time and do not recall the entirety of that special experience, three very distinct images from that trip were fixed in my mind and have remained ever since.

First, I recall being placed close to the airplane’s window and seeing the white clouds below.

Those beautiful, bright clouds endure in my mind as if they had been gigantic cotton balls.

Another image that has remained in my mind is that of a few funny-looking characters at an amusement park in the Los Angeles area. Those characters are hard to forget.

But of much greater importance is this brilliant and unforgettable image:

I clearly remember being in a sacred room of the Salt Lake Temple where sealings of couples and of families are performed for time and for all eternity. I remember the beautiful altar of the temple and recall the bright sunlight shining through the room’s exterior window. I felt then, and have continued to feel since, the warmth, safety, and solace of the gospel light of truth and love.

Similar feelings were reaffirmed in my heart 20 years later, when I entered the temple to be sealed once again—this time as my fiancée and I were sealed for time and for all eternity. However, on this occasion, we did not need to travel thousands of miles because the Buenos Aires Argentina Temple had since been built and dedicated, and it was just a short drive from our home.

Twenty-two years after our wedding and sealing, we had the blessing of returning to the same temple, but this time with our beautiful daughter, and we were sealed as a family for time and for all eternity.

As I’ve reflected upon these very sacred moments of my life, I have been overwhelmed with profound, enduring joy. I have felt and continue to feel the love of a compassionate Father in Heaven, who knows our individual needs and our heartfelt desires.

Over the past year my best friend has been struggling with leukemia. He had to stay in the hospital for many months and had to undergo chemotherapy. I have prayed for him every night and have been able to see him make progress. Throughout this difficult time, I have grown to know that Heavenly Father is there for us, and He loves all his children. I know that He wants us all to return to live with Him someday and that He wants us all to be happy.
When I think about my friend’s illness too much, I start to worry about the future. But when I think of Heavenly Father’s love for all of us, the pain goes away. I have come to know that I can always turn to Heavenly Father in prayer and that He will be there.
When my friend had a relapse and his cancer returned, I wondered if all of our faith and prayers were in vain. But I soon turned to the Lord for comfort and realized that no matter what happens, Heavenly Father loves my friend and will look after him. I just have to have faith in His plan.

I’m tired of counting cows and license plates. It’s my turn to read the new Friend.
Not till I finish reading Sister Simon’s Saints.
Simple Simon’s Saints is dumb. I want to do the Funstuf.
Mom, Dad—Matt’s being rude! He called Sister Simon’s Saints “Simple Simon’s Saints.”
Dad, Mom—make her give me the Friend. It’s my turn.
What do you think Jesus would do?
OK, keep it then.
No, you take it.
Isn’t there a way you can both be happy?
Hey what if we read Sister Simon’s Saints together, and then did a puzzle?
OK!

A missionary activity had been planned in the stake where I was serving. My companion and I were to briefly explain a gospel principle to the investigators who would attend. However, when we arrived at the meetinghouse, we discovered that hardly any investigators had come. Instead of teaching the principle as we had originally planned, we were asked to go out into the street and invite the people passing by to come and take part in the activity.
Truthfully, I couldn’t help but think, “This is not going to work.” I felt that our efforts would be fruitless—that no one would accept the invitation to just come to the activity, particularly with such little notice.
But we understood the importance of obedience, so my companion and I tried to invite people to come in. Not much later, a woman and her daughter and her daughter’s boyfriend passed by. We invited them to come in. At first they were hesitant, but finally they accepted the invitation and joined the group inside. I was surprised but very happy.
The activity started: a gospel-centered musical presentation. The activity lasted more than an hour. I worried that our guests were angry because the event lasted so long, but I had a prayer in my heart asking for everything to work out well.
When the activity ended, I approached them to apologize for taking so much of their time. Before I could say a word to them, the woman said, “Thank you. Thank you so much. It was very beautiful. Thank you.”
I was astonished; they were thanking us for the experience, and they weren’t concerned about the time. It was marvelous, and there was joy in my heart. (And to think that I had been saying that inviting people on the street wasn’t going to work!) The woman wanted to know more about the Church and to attend our Sunday meetings.
I learned something great from this experience: exercising just a little faith, even if it is nothing more than a desire to believe, can yield great fruits (see Alma 32:27–28).
This experience changed my attitude for the rest of my mission. From that time on, at each missionary activity, I would see the fruits of my labors when I went forth with hope and an eye of faith.
If we exercise faith, even when we think it cannot come to pass, we can obtain delicious fruits. What we see as impossible is not impossible for God.

When my wife and I were dating and discussing marriage, we knew that we could not blindly go to the Lord and ask Him if it was right just because we liked each other. We knew we had to study it out in our minds. Were we a good fit for each other? Did we have similar perspectives on the most important things, like the gospel? Were we willing to give marriage our all, despite the ups and downs that life inevitably would give us? After studying it out in our minds, we decided that we needed the approval of the Lord. We joined together in a full 24-hour fast to ask the Lord if what we decided was right for us. After fasting, we both had clarity of mind and a peaceful feeling. We were married in the Laie, Hawaii temple, and have been married for almost 22 years.

Whitman wrote: “The ice storm [that winter] wasn’t generally destructive. True, a few wires came down, and there was a sudden jump in accidents along the highway. … Normally, the big walnut tree could easily have borne the weight that formed on its spreading limbs. It was the iron wedge in its heart that caused the damage.

“The story of the iron wedge began years ago when the white-haired farmer [who now inhabited the property on which it stood] was a lad on his father’s homestead. The sawmill had then only recently been moved from the valley, and the settlers were still finding tools and odd pieces of equipment scattered about. …

“On this particular day, it was a faller’s wedge—wide, flat, and heavy, a foot or more long, and splayed from mighty poundings [—which the lad found] … in the south pasture. [A faller’s wedge, used to help fell a tree, is inserted in a cut made by a saw and then struck with a sledge hammer to widen the cut.] … Because he was already late for dinner, the lad laid the wedge … between the limbs of the young walnut tree his father had planted near the front gate. He would take the wedge to the shed right after dinner, or sometime when he was going that way.

“He truly meant to, but he never did. [The wedge] was there between the limbs, a little tight, when he attained his manhood. It was there, now firmly gripped, when he married and took over his father’s farm. It was half grown over on the day the threshing crew ate dinner under the tree. … Grown in and healed over, the wedge was still in the tree the winter the ice storm came.

“In the chill silence of that wintry night … one of the three major limbs split away from the trunk and crashed to the ground. This so unbalanced the remainder of the top that it, too, split apart and went down. When the storm was over, not a twig of the once-proud tree remained.

“Early the next morning, the farmer went out to mourn his loss. …

“Then, his eyes caught sight of something in the splintered ruin. ‘The wedge,’ he muttered reproachfully. ‘The wedge I found in the south pasture.’ A glance told him why the tree had fallen. Growing, edge-up in the trunk, the wedge had prevented the limb fibers from knitting together as they should.”

It was ten-year-old Joshua’s turn to teach the family home evening lesson. It was on faith. When he finished, he told his family, “If you have faith, you can do anything.”
His mother replied, “Well, almost anything.”
“No, Mom.” Joshua said. “You can do anything.”
Little did the Dennis family know that within days, their faith would be tested. On Friday, 22 September 1989, Joshua went with his dad and other leaders and members of a Boy Scout troop from Kearns, Utah, to explore an abandoned mine. After looking around inside the mine for some time, Joshua and some of the Scouts decided to turn back. They met Joshua’s dad and some other Scouts heading out of the mine, and Joshua gave his flashlight to his dad, who was leaving the tunnel with a visually handicapped boy.
Then Joshua decided to follow some older Scouts back into the mine tunnel, but they did not know that Joshua was behind them. They began to run. Joshua couldn’t keep up with them and was soon left behind in total darkness. He couldn’t even see his hand in from of his face.
He turned around and tried to feel his way back to the entrance, but he made a wrong turn and slid down a slope. He climbed back up but went too far and ended up in an ore stope—a cavity where ore has been mined out—about two meters wide and seven meters deep. The stope was almost impossible to see from the main tunnel below because of rocks.
“I tried to find my way out for a long time,” Joshua recalled. He yelled, but his cries were muffled and no one heard him. By this time, he was tired and cold and his feet were wet. “I knew I was lost, and I realized I had better just sit down and wait,” he said.
Joshua slept a lot. Sometimes he would stand up and stretch or just sit and think. For five days Joshua had no food or water and only his coat to keep him warm in the 10° C temperature.
But he wasn’t afraid. “I prayed a lot that Heavenly Father would help me,” he said, and his prayers were answered with a feeling of comfort and with faith that he would be found. “I felt that I was being watched over by Heavenly Father.”
While Joshua was praying, friends and family were also fasting and praying that he would be found in safety. His parents waited anxiously for reports on the search for their son.
Many volunteers helped search the surrounding foothills, which are full of abandoned mines and air shafts. At least seven times some of them passed within forty meters of Joshua.
The longer the search continued, the more certain many people became that Joshua was not in the mine but had wandered away from it. Search dogs, helicopters, and people on horseback and on foot searched the cliff-lined hills of nearby Dry Canyon. There was no trace of the boy.
Inside the mine, Joshua waited calmly for someone to find him. To help pass the time, he sang “I Am a Child of God” and other songs that he had learned in Primary.
As each day passed, the chance of finding Joshua alive grew less, but members of the rescue team were determined to not give up.
When the search party came out of the mine after another unsuccessful rescue attempt on the afternoon of the fifth day, a Church member, John Skinner, persuaded the men in charge to let him go in with the other searchers for a final attempt. “I just had a feeling that he was still in the mine and that he was still alive,” he explained.
John Skinner had explored the Hidden Treasure Mine 120 times and was very familiar with the dozens of passages that wind through the eight levels. He could picture in his mind at least three places where Joshua might be. One of those places was the ore stope.
As the other searchers made another sweep through the mine, he, Ray Guymon, and Gary Christensen separated from the group, and John Skinner led them to the sections of the mine where he thought the boy might be. When they finally came to the ore cavity, they heard a faint cry for help but were not sure what it was. They remained still until they heard it again. The excitement grew as they and Joshua yelled back and forth, trying to find each other in the darkness.
“My heart just started pumping and pounding,” recalled Gary Christensen, the first to reach Joshua. “I wrapped my arms around him, and he wrapped his arms around me.”
“I felt like we were led there by the Lord,” Ray Guymon said.
All three men said it was very difficult to describe the feelings they had when they found Joshua, whom they had never seen before.
“I felt like he was my own,” Gary Christensen said. “I was just really happy inside.”
“It was an overwhelming feeling when we found him,” John Skinner said.
As Joshua was brought out of the mine, there were tears of joy and relief on the faces of many. Joshua, although excited, remained calm—he had not doubted that he would be found.
Because there was no light inside the mine, Joshua had lost track of time. He was surprised when he found out that he had been lost for so long. Dehydrated from going so long without water, and suffering mild frostbite on his feet, he was flown to a hospital, where he rested and doctors examined him.
At first the doctors thought they would have to amputate his little toes. But all he lost was some skin from his feet. He had to be in a wheelchair for about a week. Physical therapy strengthened his leg and foot muscles, and before long he was walking, running, and even riding his skateboard again.
Joshua received more than a thousand letters, many from other school children who wanted to know more about him and his experience. While he was lost, the students at Fox Hills Elementary School, where he was in the fifth grade, tied yellow ribbons on the fences all around their school to show that they were thinking about him and hoping that he would be back soon. It really made Joshua feel good to know that so many people cared about him. He tells everyone, “Heavenly Father does answer your prayers. Have faith and don’t give up.”

The closer I came to Jesus Christ, the more I wanted to share what I was learning about Him! The Church was very small in Angola, and I couldn’t wait to help it grow by telling people what I knew. Even though my efforts to share the gospel didn’t always get the best reception, I continued to try. And eventually my desire to share the happiness, hope, and peace of the gospel grew even stronger.
I decided to serve a mission and share what was in my heart.
I was called to the Ghana Accra Mission, speaking English instead of my native Portuguese. I was so nervous about learning English! I couldn’t believe I was going to have to speak such an impossible language.
But during our first class in the MTC, my teacher wrote the words “Believe it” on the board—meaning believe that we can do all things with Christ (see Philippians 4:13).
I believed this, but I didn’t think it extended to my ability to learn a new language in just six weeks. I had no idea how I was supposed to do something that seemed so impossible!
After that first day of class, I knelt in prayer in my room. I told Heavenly Father that I would trust Him, and even though I wasn’t positive about my ability to learn English, I would act in faith as much as I could. I told Him I would choose to believe that with the Savior’s help I could do this.
And as the weeks went by, I slowly but surely felt myself learning this impossible language.
It was a miracle.
Since learning about Jesus Christ, I have always believed in Him. But believing in what He and Heavenly Father can help us accomplish is something different and something I had to work on. Without faith, miracles can look like mere coincidences. But as I chose to have faith in Christ and combined that with my efforts to learn, I felt Him magnifying my abilities and capacity.
President Russell M. Nelson has taught: “Miracles come according to your faith in the Lord. Central to that faith is trusting His will and timetable—how and when He will bless you with the miraculous help you desire. Only your unbelief will keep God from blessing you with miracles to move the mountains in your life.”
If I could share one thing from my story, it would be this: Believe it. Not just that you can learn a new language or leave your comfort zone to serve a mission or have the courage to do what you know is right even when nobody around you agrees.
Believe that Jesus Christ is our Savior and that when we trust Him, we can accomplish what seems impossible.

Not a month later, I felt impressed to look at careers that related to humanitarian and non-profit work. The job requirements led me to investigate a degree, a Master of Public Administration at BYU. I hadn’t been making plans to return to school after my receiving my bachelor’s degree. But He was showing me there was more ahead for me or, I should say, more in me than I knew.

The graduate school application deadline was just a few days away, but with His help I was somehow able to submit all the necessary paperwork, recommendations, and interviews. I was accepted to grad school and, just after, was hired as the manager of the Church’s animation team, another unexpected opportunity.

I was now looking at starting grad school, starting a new challenging job, and continuing to serve as my ward Young Women president of more than 50 young women. This didn’t look possible, but all three felt right. So I trusted in Him. Only He would show me how this was going to work, and He did.

Throughout my three years of grad school, I continually watched His hand strengthen me in ways that I didn’t think possible. He’d part the “Red Seas” (see Exodus 14) of my life, somehow making a way for things to happen and for my capacities to expand.

The Lord makes a way when we follow His promptings and commandments. The prophet Nephi declared that truth when he said, “I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded, for I know that the Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save he shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the thing which he commandeth them” (1 Nephi 3:7).

The Lord will provide a way for us to accomplish the things that He has asked us to do. If you are struggling to make things work financially or otherwise for school, just know that if you feel prompted to attend school at this time, the Lord will provide a way just as Nephi declared. Trust Him. He loves you and desires to take care of you and will as you choose to exercise your faith in Him.

During that busy time as a student, I would find myself having to choose between things like helping the young women set up a ward activity or studying for my mid-terms. I chose to listen to the same Voice that had led me to that place and decided to be with the young women. I then prayed and did my best to study with what time I had left.

Time and again I would take a test and somehow do well—always better than expected. The Lord is so merciful and kind. That is an important lesson I took away from my education: the character of God and His love for me as His daughter.

The other learning from my education is that when we put the Lord first and keep our covenants with Him, all things fall into their proper place, and we receive the gift of His peace and help amidst the storm. We have peace because we know He is in it with us. When we choose Him, we will be blessed with all we stand in need of as we pass through the challenges He has placed before us.

I love the Lord. I testify that He leads this Church through our prophet, President Russell M. Nelson. Jesus Christ is our Savior and Redeemer. Through His sacrifice we can have the peace which surpasseth all understanding (see Philippians 4:7). It is His peace and love that will sustain us amidst the impossible or unthinkable. He will provide, as we keep our covenants and trust in Him with all our hearts (see Proverbs 3:5). This is His restored Church upon the earth, and we have the fulness of His gospel. I know He lives and loves you! In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

During college, I had served as a Relief Society president twice and had held other callings in my various wards that allowed me to frequently help others. I was a psychology major and spent a lot of my time helping those who struggled with varying mental illnesses and disabilities as well.
I was used to serving, not being served.
Then one night I found a marble-sized lump on my chest. I ignored it for a few weeks until one evening when my roommate Rachel, who had also been my mission companion, came home. She was sitting on her bed across from me, and I remembered that her grandmother had passed away from breast cancer.
Since finding the lump, I had been in denial that anything was wrong; no one in my family ever had health issues, let alone cancer. Even if I wanted to have the lump looked at, I had no idea where to even start with hospitals and doctors. But this particular evening, I felt like I should say something to Rachel.
She immediately hugged me and cried with me. She then helped me find a doctor who could look at the lump for me. But she didn’t stop there—she even came with me to my appointment so that I wouldn’t have to be alone. She was honoring her covenants by exemplifying the counsel in Mosiah 18:9 to “mourn with those that mourn; yea, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort.”
Through subsequent doctors’ visits, I found out that the lump I was feeling was one of four tumors in my chest. And it was the smallest one. This was one of the most shocking experiences of my life, and it was especially hard because I was also trying to balance school and Church callings.
Although I found out later that the tumors were benign, I thought a lot about that experience and how much my friend had blessed me. She opened my eyes to the importance of allowing others to serve me.

I visited the hospital the other evening to see my desperately ill sister. Her husband and family were surrounding her bed, holding their family home evening, led by their fourth missionary son just returned from foreign fields. I joined them, and then went home rejoicing and thanking God for that kind of example, and met my own family who were waiting, and prayed that we might do a better job of practicing what we preach.

I visited her this morning and talked with her to the Lord, and in the spirit of that sobering experience offer my testimony this morning.

Before homes could be built, the Saints had to cut down the thickets and dig ditches to drain the swamps. Unfortunately, they were unaware of the dangerous disease the pesky mosquitoes were carrying. Many workers became ill with malaria. Before long, hundreds of people in Nauvoo and across the Mississippi River in Montrose, Iowa, were very ill. Many were dying.
For a time Joseph and Emma Smith nursed and cared for the sick, but then Joseph also became ill. For several days he lay overcome with the sickness. But on 22 July 1839, the Spirit of the Lord prompted Joseph to arise and help others. He obediently arose and began to administer to the sick staying in his house and to the people in the tent city surrounding his home. Then he went down to the river, where many more lay too sick to move.
Elder Heber C. Kimball and others then accompanied the Prophet across the river to Montrose, where they visited the homes of the sick and, using the power of the priesthood, healed them. When Joseph arrived at the home of Elijah Fordham, the man was unconscious and near death. Joseph took Brother Fordham’s hand and said, “Brother Fordham, do you not know me?” There was no response at first. Then Joseph repeated his question, and Elijah whispered, “Yes!”
Joseph said, “Have you not faith to be healed?”
Elijah answered, “I am afraid it is too late.”
Joseph asked next, “Do you believe that Jesus is the Christ?”
“I do, Brother Joseph,” Elijah said. Then the Prophet Joseph said in a loud voice, “Elijah, I command you, in the name of Jesus of Nazareth, to arise and be made whole!”
Elijah Fordham arose from his bed and was healed!
Wilford Woodruff said of the miraculous healing: “The words of the Prophet were not like the words of man, but like the voice of God. It seemed to me that the house shook from its foundation.”