Gospel Story Finder

When I was growing up, young men went on missions when they were twenty years old. Not all young men were expected to go on missions, as they are today. My father had always hoped that I would go on a mission, and he had encouraged me several times. But as I got older, I wondered, Is that really what I want to do?
My priests quorum advisor, Dale Waite, was a great example and a wonderful teacher. We boys all thought he was terrific. One time he took us to a ward outing at a swimming resort. We had a good time swimming, playing volleyball, and just enjoying being together. That night we piled into Brother Waite’s car to go home—the car sure was full! Full of good memories of the evening’s activities, we were starting up the old highway in the dark of night, when Brother Waite asked, “Did any of you hear the First Presidency’s announcement today?”
None of us had; we were all ears. Brother Waite told us, “The First Presidency has announced that young men can be called on missions at nineteen years of age.” When he said that, the Spirit of the Lord came over me, filling me from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet. I knew that the message was, “You are going on a mission.” I had never had that kind of experience before, but the feeling that I was to go on a mission never left me.
When I was old enough, I was called to serve in Germany. I loved everything about my mission. It was a turning point for me. I came to love Heavenly Father, His Son, and the gospel as never before, and I loved to hear the word of God preached. I came to love the scriptures; I loved reading them and understanding them. I found that the General Authorities who came to see us in the mission field were men of God and had great power to change people’s lives. I saw people accept the gospel and repent and be baptized and be filled with joy.
When I came home from my mission, it was with the firm resolve that I would never be the same—and I never have been. And all of that happened because a priests quorum advisor stayed close to the young men in his quorum, taught them the gospel, and helped them learn in a very simple way that they could go on missions and be touched by the Spirit of the Lord.

Amelia did as much flying as she could in those early days of aviation, and in 1928 she was invited to become the first woman to cross the Atlantic Ocean in an airplane. She was only a passenger then, but in 1932 she decided to cross the Atlantic again—this time as the first woman pilot to fly across it!
On the evening of Friday, May 20, 1932, she took off from Harbour Grace, Newfoundland. Early in the flight the altimeter, which measures the distance an airplane is above the ground or water, stopped working. It was a very dark night, and clouds blocked out the light of the moon. A lightning storm arose. Visability was poor, and Amelia couldn’t see how high above the water she was. She decided to try flying above the clouds where she would have moonlight and be safely away from the storm and the ocean. However, as she climbed through the cloud layer, ice formed on the plane’s wings. The extra weight caused the plane to go into a spinning dive. As the plane came closer to the surface of the water, the ice melted from the wings and Amelia was able to pull the plane out of the spin. But she had been close enough to the ocean to see the whitecaps on the waves.
Later during the same flight Amelia noticed flames trailing from a broken weld in the manifold of her engine. If the flames caused the manifold to weaken and break apart, the airplane might crash. Amelia could have turned back to Harbour Grace, but “there was nothing to do about it … ,” she said. “So it seemed sensible to keep going.” Although the flames never ceased and the manifold rattled steadily, Amelia made it to Ireland. She landed there in a pasture rather than continuing on to Paris as she had planned.

When I was eight years old, our family went on a vacation to the state of New York. I learned that many important events in Church history took place there.
My parents had taught us about Joseph Smith and his prayer to seek wisdom from God. They taught us about Joseph’s experience in the Sacred Grove. They also taught us about the gold plates that were buried in the Hill Cumorah. We had heard these stories many times before in family home evening, in Primary, and in our church meetings.
When we got to New York, we visited the site where Joseph Smith lived with his parents and brothers and sisters. We were reminded that the Smith family loved the Bible and often read from it and prayed together. Then we went down the lane to the grove of trees where Joseph went to ask Heavenly Father which church was His true church.
As our family walked into the Sacred Grove, my heart began to pound. There was a peaceful, wonderful feeling there. I felt something very special as I thought about Joseph Smith and his prayer for wisdom. He actually saw our Heavenly Father and His Son, Jesus Christ. I knew it was true. My parents later explained that the special feeling I felt was the Holy Ghost.

My father could remember the very day, even the very hour, that his family—father, mother, and four children—left the Church, many never to return again in this life. He was 13 years old, a deacon, and in those days families attended Sunday School in the morning and then sacrament meeting in the afternoon. On a beautiful spring day, after returning home from Sunday morning worship services and having a midday family meal together, his mother turned to his father and asked simply, “Well, dear, do you think we should go to sacrament meeting this afternoon, or should we take the family for a ride in the country?”
The idea that there was an option to sacrament meeting had never occurred to my father, but he and his three teenage siblings all sat up and paid careful attention. That Sunday afternoon ride in the country was probably an enjoyable family activity, but that small decision became the start of a new direction which ultimately led his family away from the Church with its safety, security, and blessings and onto a different path.
My father was fortunate to marry a good woman who encouraged him to come back to the church of his youth and begin again to progress along the path. Their faithful lives have blessed all of their children, the next generation of grandchildren, and now great-grandchildren.
Just as the simple decision to attend or not attend one of their Sabbath day worship meetings made a significant difference in the lives of my grandparents’ family, our everyday decisions will impact our lives in significant ways. A seemingly small decision such as whether or not to attend a sacrament meeting can have far-reaching, even eternal, consequences.

When I was 11 years old, something else happened that helped build my testimony. My family was having a fun summer weekend at our cabin in the mountains. On Saturday night a man showed up at our cabin door with some bad news. He told us our home in Salt Lake City had caught on fire and most of it had been destroyed.

Fire can be scary. I was very upset that our home was gone. But then my father did something I’ve never forgotten. He gathered our family of eight around him and said a beautiful prayer. He told Heavenly Father how grateful he was that our family was safe.

As my father prayed, my heart again felt that same warm feeling that I’d had in stake conference when I was five years old. I knew that when we returned to our burned home, our friends and family would be there to help. And they were. They gave us food and clothing. And they helped us rebuild our home.

How grateful I was for my parents’ faith and the example of their testimonies. The fire destroyed many precious things. But because of the Holy Ghost, I was blessed with a more precious possession—my own testimony.

Justina sat extra tall in her seat. She placed her new pencils right at the top of her desk. Today was the first day of school. She’d met her classmates and drawn a fun picture.
Then Mrs. Werner said, “Time to work on writing!” Mrs. Werner handed out papers to the class. “You have 30 minutes to work on this. Then we’ll go to recess.”
Justina gulped. “Oh no. Writing already?” she thought.
Last year Justina had a hard time with reading and writing. All of her friends seemed to like it. It wasn’t so hard for them. What if this year was like last year all over again?
Justina picked up her pencil. She looked at her paper. Her stomach sank. All the other students were writing. Except for her.
She wanted to talk to Mrs. Werner. Would she be mad that Justina was having trouble? Even if she was, that still sounded better than writing.
Justina walked to her teacher’s desk. “Mrs. Werner? This is harder than what I did last year. I don’t think I can do it.”
Mrs. Werner didn’t look upset. She smiled at Justina. “Do what you can. You might be surprised at what you can do! You can’t always choose what you’re good at. But you can always choose how hard you try.”
Justina walked back to her desk. She thought about what Mrs. Werner said. “I can choose to try.” That was like what she learned in Primary. Her class read a scripture that said we are “free to choose.” That meant we could make our own choices. Heavenly Father trusts us to make good choices. He promises to help us when we make mistakes.
Could school be different this year? Maybe she could choose to make it different! Justina picked up her pencil. She looked at her paper. Her stomach relaxed. “OK. I’m going to do this,” she thought.
The recess bell rang. Justina wasn’t finished yet. But she was more than halfway done! She raised her hand. “Can I stay and keep working? I’m so close to being done!”
Mrs. Werner smiled and nodded.
Justina finally handed in her paper. Her hand ached a little bit. Even her brain hurt! But she was smiling. She had never worked so hard on writing before.
The next day the class worked on reading. Mrs. Werner asked everyone to read for 20 minutes. Justina tried again. She opened her book and sounded out the words.
Justina started making choices every day. She chose to read. She chose to write. Maybe reading and writing weren’t so bad!
She even chose to go to the library. She checked out books. Last year she would have never done that. Soon she was reading all the time. And it was actually fun! And the more she read, the better she got at writing.
When Justina got older, she was glad she chose to work hard in reading and writing. Because now those were some of her favorite things to do.

A few years ago when we were presiding over the Sydney Mission, I was earnestly seeking a blessing from the Lord. The mission had done well but was pausing on a plateau, and we needed to move ahead once again.
On one particular day I was fasting and praying that the Lord would lead us to a new level of achievement. In the midst of my prayers came the clear impression to seek out my son and give him a blessing. I followed the prompting and found my son, whom I am close to, in another part of the house, attending to his high school studies.
I said, “How are things going?”
He answered, in typical teenage fashion, “Why?”
Not knowing what else to say, I asked, “Do you want a blessing?”
He looked at me in stunned silence for a few seconds and then said, “Yes.”
The inspiration that followed from that blessing proved to be of great importance to both my son and me. It was an experience that neither of us will forget.
Yet this would have been lost had I stopped to question why the Lord was turning me to my first responsibility, my family, when I was seeking a blessing for the mission.

During a visit to a juvenile detention home some months ago, my attention was drawn to three young girls who were visiting with each other just prior to our religious service. They appeared to be ten to twelve years of age. I found later they were being detained for a few days to see if some problems could be resolved. As I was waiting to participate with them and others in the services, they seemed to be involved in serious conversation. “What could they be talking about?” I wondered to myself. My curiosity prompted me to step closer to them for a chance to catch a few of their words. I was moved when I heard one of the girls raise this question to her friends: “I wonder if someone will come today who will want to take me home. It would be fun to live with someone who wants me.”
Here was a ten-year-old who wasn’t wanted. Her parents had given the impression to those in charge that they were pleased when she was confined, because they were then free from putting up with her. What a pleasure it was later to learn she had been placed by licensed social services agents of the Church in a new home, adopted, loved, and was receiving parental direction. Loving foster parents are now helping her find her way in the warmth of family unity and oneness.

Elder Eyring: When I came into the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, Elder Richard G. Scott suggested I buy an inexpensive set of scriptures and mark the insights and revelations I would gain in my new calling. So I did. But I went a little further.
I asked Heavenly Father what He would have me do as an Apostle. I wrote down what I felt His answers were. I typed, color coded, and pasted those answers in the front of my scriptures. For example, the first one was “I am to be a witness that Christ is the Son of God.” Then I read my scriptures looking for ideas that taught me how to witness that Christ is the Son of God. Every time I came to something, I marked it in blue. Soon I developed my own topical guide around what I thought the Lord wanted me to do. I have learned much through this process.

This was the same canal in which I was later baptized into the Church, and this is the same canal from which I hauled water to the trees and plant life about our home. I was the smallest of the boys, so I was given this work. We called the transportation a “lizard.” Did any of you ever see a “lizard”? We made it with a Y-shaped tree limb. In the center we fastened a barrel and hitched one horse to the “lizard.” I drove it to the canal, where I dipped up barrels full of canal water, then drove the horse one block to the home where I dipped out the water for the plants and flowers.
My father made a great effort to surround the new home with every kind of flower and save them in those late summer days when water was so scarce. It was also my job to drive the horses and cows to the canal for their drinking water.

One sister, a Relief Society instructor, was known for preparing flawless lessons. One time she decided to create a beautiful quilt that would serve as the perfect backdrop to the theme of her lesson. But life intervened—there were children to pick up from school, a neighbor who needed help moving, a husband who had a fever, and a friend who felt lonely. The day of the lesson approached, and the quilt was not completed. Finally, the night before her lesson, she did not sleep much as she worked all night on the quilt.

The next day she was exhausted and barely able to organize her thoughts, but she bravely stood and delivered her lesson.

And the quilt was stunning—the stitches were perfect, the colors vibrant, and the design intricate. And at the center of it all was a single word that triumphantly echoed the theme of her lesson: “Simplify.”

In those times, we lived in very difficult economic circumstances. My mother, who was separated from my father, worked to provide for us. Despite working at three different jobs, she barely earned enough to provide for our needs. Nevertheless, as an active member of the Church, my mother was willing to fulfill her baptismal covenants and obey the commandments that God has given us, among which is the law of tithing. So even though it was difficult for her and for all of the family, she paid tithing.
My mother also loved to invite the missionaries over to eat at our home. Sometimes she would invite more than 10 missionaries. And a miracle occurred in our home that is similar to the miracle in the New Testament when the Lord fed the 5,000 with five loaves and two fishes, and there was more than enough to satisfy their hunger. That is what happened with my family when the missionaries ate in our home. When we trusted the Lord, somehow there was enough.

Before Christmas my parents bought a box full of copies of the Book of Mormon to give to people. That was when I had the idea to take some to school and give them as presents to three of my teachers.
When I got to the music classroom, I saw my music teacher and thought, Go ahead, Sophia. Give one to her! I walked slowly up to my teacher. But I didn’t have the courage to give her the book.
I went to a corner of the room and prayed very quietly. “Heavenly Father, I ask Thee to help me give this book to my teacher.” When I finished my prayer, I felt very strongly that I should give the book to her. Suddenly I had courage.
I went up to her. She looked at me, and I gave her the Book of Mormon and said, “Teacher, I love you from the bottom of my heart, and I want to give you this Book of Mormon!”
She took it and looked at the cover. “Look inside!” I said. She saw that I had written a few words.
She hugged me and said, “Oh, Sophia, thank you for giving this to me!”
After I sat down, she said to the class, “Look what Sophia gave me. I am going to read it during the holidays!”
When I got home, I ran to my mother and said, “Guess what! I gave my teacher a Book of Mormon.”
She smiled and said, “That’s wonderful! You’re a great example to me, Sophia.”
We decided to pray to thank Heavenly Father for giving me the courage to give my teacher the Book of Mormon.

A young man returning from his mission shared his experience with faith. He acknowledged it as a miracle in his life. He said, “I was the first of six children born to my parents. My mother and father taught me when I was young the principles of the gospel. Faith was taught through the example of both my mother and father. When I was only 10 years old, my father, this great example of trusting the Lord, was killed in an accident. I was young and had many feelings to deal with that were new to me.” This young man said he realized that he had two choices available to him—“I could have become bitter towards the Lord and lost all that I now have, or I could trust the Lord. Because of the example of my parents, trust was the path I chose. Choosing faith has made all of the difference.”

For 50 years, I have studied culture, including gospel culture. I began with fortune cookies.
In San Francisco’s Chinatown, Gong family dinners concluded with a fortune cookie and a wise saying like “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.”
As a young adult, I made fortune cookies. Wearing white cotton gloves, I folded and tucked into shape the round cookies hot out of the oven.
To my surprise, I learned fortune cookies are not originally part of Chinese culture. To distinguish Chinese, American, and European fortune cookie culture, I looked for fortune cookies on multiple continents—just as one would use multiple locations to triangulate a forest fire. Chinese restaurants in San Francisco, Los Angeles, and New York serve fortune cookies, but not those in Beijing, London, or Sydney. Only Americans celebrate National Fortune Cookie Day. Only Chinese advertisements offer “Authentic American Fortune Cookies.”
Fortune cookies are a fun, simple example. But the same principle of comparing practices in different cultural settings can help us distinguish gospel culture. And now the Lord is opening new opportunities to learn gospel culture as Book of Mormon allegory and New Testament parable prophecies are fulfilled.
Everywhere people are moving. The United Nations reports 281 million international migrants. This is 128 million more individuals than in 1990 and more than three times 1970 estimates. Everywhere, record numbers of converts are finding The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Every Sabbath, members and friends from 195 birth countries and territories gather in 31,916 Church congregations. We speak 125 languages.
Recently, in Albania, North Macedonia, Kosovo, Switzerland, and Germany, I witnessed new members fulfilling the Book of Mormon allegory of the olive tree. In Jacob 5, the Lord of the vineyard and his servants strengthen both olive tree roots and branches by gathering and grafting together those from diverse locations. Today children of God gather as one in Jesus Christ; the Lord offers a remarkable natural means to expand our lived fulness of His restored gospel.
Preparing us for the kingdom of heaven, Jesus tells the parables of the great supper and wedding feast. In these parables, invited guests make excuses not to come. The master instructs his servants to “go out quickly into the streets and lanes of the city” and “the highways and hedges” to “bring in hither” the poor, maimed, halt, and blind. Spiritually speaking, that’s each of us.
Scripture declares:
“All nations shall be invited” unto “a supper of the house of the Lord.”
“Prepare ye the way of the Lord, … that his kingdom may go forth upon the earth, that the inhabitants thereof may receive it, and be prepared for the days to come.”
Today those invited to the supper of the Lord come from every place and culture. Old and young, rich and poor, local and global, we make our Church congregations look like our communities.
As chief Apostle, Peter saw heaven open a vision of “a great sheet knit at the four corners, … wherein were all manner of … beasts.” Taught Peter: “Of a truth I perceive that God is no respecter of persons. … In every nation he that feareth [the Lord], and worketh righteousness, is accepted with him.”
In the parable of the good Samaritan, Jesus invites us to come to each other and to Him in His inn—His Church. He invites us to be good neighbors. The good Samaritan promises to return and recompense the care of those in His inn. Living the gospel of Jesus Christ includes making room for all in His restored Church.
The spirit of “room in the inn” includes “no one sits alone.” When you come to church, if you see someone alone, will you please say hello and sit with him or her? This may not be your custom. The person may look or speak differently than you. And of course, as a fortune cookie might say, “A journey of gospel friendship and love begins with a first hello and no one sitting alone.”
“No one sits alone” also means no one sits alone emotionally or spiritually. I went with a brokenhearted father to visit his son. Years earlier, the son was excited to become a new deacon. The occasion included his family buying him his first pair of new shoes.
But at church, the deacons laughed at him. His shoes were new, but not fashionable. Embarrassed and hurt, the young deacon said he would never go again to church. My heart is still broken for him and his family.
On the dusty roads to Jericho, each of us has been laughed at, embarrassed and hurt, perhaps scorned or abused. And with varying degrees of intent, each of us has also disregarded, not seen or heard, perhaps deliberately hurt others. It is precisely because we have been hurt and have hurt others that Jesus Christ brings us all to His inn. In His Church and through His ordinances and covenants, we come to each other and to Jesus Christ. We love and are loved, serve and are served, forgive and are forgiven. Please remember, “earth has no sorrow that heav’n cannot heal”; earth burdens lighten—our Savior’s joy is real.
In 1 Nephi 19, we read: “Even the very God of Israel do [they] trample under their feet; … they set him at naught. … Wherefore they scourge him, and he suffereth it; and they smite him, and he suffereth it. Yea, they spit upon him, and he suffereth it.”
My friend Professor Terry Warner says the judging, scourging, smiting, and spitting were not occasional events that occurred only during Christ’s mortal life. How we treat each other—especially the hungry, the thirsty, those left out alone—is how we treat Him.
In His restored Church, we are all better when no one sits alone. Let us not simply accommodate or tolerate. Let us genuinely welcome, acknowledge, minister to, love. May each friend, sister, brother not be a foreigner or stranger but a child at home.
Today many feel lonely and isolated. Social media and artificial intelligence can leave us yearning for human closeness and human touch. We want to hear each other’s voices. We want authentic belonging and kindness.
There are many reasons we may feel we do not fit in at church—that, speaking figuratively, we sit alone. We may worry about our accent, clothes, family situation. Perhaps we feel inadequate, smell of smoke, yearn for moral cleanliness, have broken up with someone and feel hurt and embarrassed, are concerned about this or that Church policy. We may be single, divorced, widowed. Our children are noisy; we don’t have children. We didn’t serve a mission or came home early. The list goes on.
Mosiah 18:21 invites us to knit our hearts together in love. I invite us to worry less, judge less, be less demanding of others—and, when needed, be less hard on ourselves. We do not create Zion in a day. But each “hello,” each warm gesture, brings Zion closer. Let us trust the Lord more and choose joyfully to obey all His commandments.
Doctrinally, in the household of faith and fellowship of the Saints, no one sits alone because of covenant belonging in Jesus Christ.
Taught the Prophet Joseph Smith: “It is left for us to see, participate in and help to roll forward the Latter-day glory, ‘the dispensation of the fullness of times … ,’ when the Saints of God will be gathered in one from every nation, and kindred, and people.”
God “doeth not anything save it be for the benefit of the world; … that he may draw all men [and women] unto him. …
“… He inviteth them all to come unto him and partake of his goodness; … and all are alike unto God.”
Conversion in Jesus Christ requires us to put off the natural man and worldly culture. As President Dallin H. Oaks teaches, we are to give up any tradition and cultural practice that is contrary to the commandments of God and to become Latter-day Saints. He explains, “There is a unique gospel culture, a set of values and expectations and practices common to all [the] members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.” Gospel culture includes chastity, weekly attendance at church, abstaining from alcohol, tobacco, tea, and coffee. It includes honesty and integrity, understanding we move forward, not upward or downward, in Church positions.
I learn from faithful members and friends in every land and culture. Scriptures studied in multiple languages and cultural perspectives deepen gospel understanding. Different expressions of Christlike attributes deepen my love and understanding of my Savior. All are blessed when we define our cultural identity, as President Russell M. Nelson taught, as a child of God, a child of the covenant, a disciple of Jesus Christ.
The peace of Jesus Christ is meant for us personally. Recently a young man earnestly asked, “Elder Gong, can I still go to heaven?” He wondered if he could ever be forgiven. I asked his name, listened carefully, invited him to talk with his bishop, gave him a big hug. He left with hope in Jesus Christ.
I mentioned the young man in another setting. Later I received an unsigned letter that began, “Elder Gong, my wife and I have raised nine kids … and served two missions.” But “I always felt I would not be allowed in the celestial kingdom … because my sins as a youth were so bad!”
The letter continued, “Elder Gong, when you told about the young man gaining hope of forgiveness, I was filled with joy, beginning to realize that maybe I [could be forgiven].” The letter concludes, “I even like myself now!”
Covenant belonging deepens as we come to each other and to the Lord in His inn. The Lord blesses us all when no one sits alone. And who knows? Maybe the person we sit next to may become our best fortune cookie friend. May we find and make place for Him and each other at the supper of the Lamb, I humbly pray in the holy name of Jesus Christ, amen.

In contrast, seniority is honored among ordained Apostles—even when entering or leaving a room. President Benson related to us this account:
“Some [years] ago Elder Haight extended a special courtesy to President Romney while they were in the upper room in the temple. President Romney was lingering behind for some reason, and [Elder Haight] did not want to precede him out the door. When President Romney signaled [for him] to go first, Elder Haight replied, ‘No, President, you go first.’
“President Romney replied with his humor, ‘What’s the matter, David? Are you afraid I’m going to steal something?’”

Primary children in Perth, Australia, shared Jesus’s warmth by giving blankets to older women in their ward. At Easter time in Australia, the temperature starts to cool down for autumn before winter comes. Children often receive a new pair of warm winter pajamas with chocolate eggs on Easter morning. Warm pajamas and blankets can remind us of the warmth of Jesus Christ’s love.
1. They went to the store together to pick out the blankets.
2. They also made flower crafts, painted wooden Easter eggs, and decorated cards to go with the blankets.
3. Then they delivered the blankets. They enjoyed working together to bring the Savior’s love to others at Easter time.
Here’s the letter the children sent with the blankets!
We hope that through the winter you can use this small gift to feel the warmth of our love and to always remember that the Savior’s love wraps around you.
Love,
The Primary children
I enjoyed being able to join in and do something together. The shopping trip was the best, and we got to choose the colors of the blankets. It was a fun and happy experience.
Robert D., age 9
We liked seeing the smiling faces of the women in our ward when we gave them the blankets.
Micah and Hyrum M., ages 10 and 8
I had a lot of fun doing something nice for the older people in our ward.
Miley N., age 8
Illustrations by Sophie Loren Moran. May be copied for Church use only.

Every Saturday at ten o’clock, Mama takes Brett and me to the library. That’s when our Library Grandma reads.

The other children grab books and yell, “Read mine! Read mine!” Brett and I sit quietly, like people should in a library.

Our Library Grandma gathers the grabby grumblers and growls like a grouchy gorilla. She reads wild stories for wild children. Her hair springs from the bun on the top of her head. Her arms wave and her feet stomp. Her eyes squint and her brow wrinkles. The wide-eyed children hold their breath.

“Don’t stop, Grandma,” they beg when it’s time to go. “Read to us all day.” They love her, but we love her the best.

After our Library Grandma finishes reading to all the children each Saturday, we pick out books to take home. When Mama comes to get us, she gives our Library Grandma a ride home too. At our house, she comes in. Brett and I give her our library books and yell, “Read mine! Read mine!” Then our Library Grandma, our very own real Grandma, hugs us—and reads to us all day!

When I was seventeen years old, I received a patriarchal blessing. I was admonished to seek a companion who could take me to the temple and blessed that I would become a mother in Israel. I subsequently took it for granted that I would finish high school, continue my studies for some time, and then marry and begin a family.
But I was still unmarried in my thirties. By then I had come to understand that the promises of my patriarchal blessing might not be realized during my mortal life. Although I understood that if worthy and faithful, I would eventually enjoy every blessing, I was still troubled. I wondered whether I could be happy if marriage and family did not come in the ways I had desired. During one difficult period, I went often to the temple. On one occasion, I was given a clear message from God. I was told that I did not need to be afraid.
As I pondered that experience, I understood that my happiness did not depend on the timing of marriage and family blessings nor on the other conditions of my life but upon trust in God and obedience to him. Our Heavenly Father knows and loves each of us; he knows the circumstances and challenges of our lives, and he will help us. The scriptures teach, “Wherefore, be of good cheer, and do not fear, for I the Lord am with you, and will stand by you” (D&C 68:6).

In September 2021, before the general conference, I visited the holy temple. I felt truly happy, telling my Heavenly Father about the joy and progress in my life, work, Church, and with my children. Having been divorced for nearly five years, I was content and hoped to remain that way.
The following week, a gentleman named José, that I knew somewhat through his daughter, sent me a friend request on Facebook. I was surprised, but nevertheless, we began chatting. During that time, my grandmother was very ill in the hospital. The night before she passed, I reached out to him for comfort, and he was there for me, even at 5:00 in the morning. His support meant a lot during that difficult time.
After my grandmother’s funeral on October 16, 2021, I asked José to meet and talk. I remember arriving at the restaurant, and he was waiting for me outside; we greeted each other with a hug and talked for several hours. On that first date, he told me, “I want to get married, and if it were with you, even better.”
From then on, we felt an incredible bond, as if we had known each other forever. Just days later, we knew we wanted to be together for life and decided to get married six months later.
Despite some challenges, we married civilly on April 8, 2022, in a small but joyful ceremony. We were sealed for eternity on December 17, 2022, in the Monterrey Mexico Temple.