Gospel Story Finder

I want to share a personal experience with you regarding that principle. I grew up close to Bethlehem and the only branch where I could attend church was the BYU Jerusalem Center. Palestinians living in the West Bank are not allowed into Jerusalem, so for years, I had to sneak into Jerusalem, getting shot at sometimes and risking being arrested so I could attend church services. The trip would take three hours and would involve me climbing hills and walls and hiding from soldiers. I felt that each Sabbath I was given the strength and protection I needed to get to church.

I remember one Sabbath in particular. I was asked to give a talk in sacrament meeting that week. However, the day before, we had curfew imposed on us by the Israeli soldiers. Curfew in Bethlehem is not something you want to break. It is an all-day long curfew and lasts for weeks sometimes. You are not allowed to leave your house for any reason. Anyone who leaves their house risks getting shot.

For some reason, I felt that Heavenly Father wanted me to give that talk, but I wondered how He expected me to get to church! I mean, even if I were to manage to leave my house without getting shot, I did not have a car then. How would I find public transportation to get to Jerusalem? There was no one on the roads except soldiers.

I decided to do all that I could. I knelt down and basically told Heavenly Father that all I can do is walk outside. That was the extent of what I could do. He had to do the rest.

I did just that. I got dressed in my Sunday clothes, got out of our house and down the few steps out of our porch, and walked on to the road. Amazingly enough, there was a taxi right in front of my house! Now, we live on a small street. We never see taxis pass by our street, even during normal days. I approached the taxi driver and asked him where he was going. Guess where was he going? To Jerusalem, of course. Right where I wanted to go! He had others with him in the taxi, but he had room for one more person.

The taxi driver knew exactly which roads had soldiers on them and avoided those roads. Then we eventually got to where there was only one road leading out of town, and that road had soldiers on it. The taxi driver decided to go off the road to avoid the soldiers. He went into a hay field. We drove in hay fields for about half an hour. It was very bumpy, dusty, and rocky. Finally, we found a dirt road. I was so thrilled to not be in a field! However, a few short minutes later, we saw a pile of rocks blocking that dirt road. I thought we would have to turn around and go back. Luckily, the taxi driver had more hope and courage than I did. He went off the dirt road and into an olive tree field. He maneuvered around the olive trees until he got us to the other side of the pile of rocks.

I made it to church that day. As I entered the Jerusalem Center I reflected on my journey and thought, “That was impossible!” There was no way I could have made it to church by my efforts alone. The effort I made, just walking outside, was so small compared to the miracle the Lord provided.

I joined the Church when I was in high school and was the only member in my family. I had a difficult time making the transition to life in the Church, finding many of the activities and callings unfamiliar. So when I was asked to be a visiting teacher for the first time during my second year in college, I struggled to understand exactly what that meant. My companion was a faithful young mother, Sister Bray (names have been changed), and it was easy for me to let her set the appointments, direct our visits, and care for our sisters. One sister, in particular, proved more challenging than the rest. Cassie was less active, living with her boyfriend, and expecting their first child. She always seemed sad or troubled.
One Sunday the branch presidency asked us to make sure we invited everyone on our visiting teaching routes to a missionary fireside that evening. “No problem,” I thought. “Sister Bray will call Cassie.” I scanned the chapel. Sister Bray was out of town that Sunday and would not be making any calls.
When I reached my apartment after church, I felt the tugging of the Spirit: “Call Cassie.” I stoutly refused. Surely she wouldn’t come even if I did call. A second time the Spirit prompted strongly: “Call Cassie!” Again I refused. Finally the Spirit was impossible to ignore, and I grudgingly made the call—only to reach Cassie’s answering machine. “See,” I thought, “I knew it wouldn’t do any good.” I left a message telling Cassie and her boyfriend, Will, that there would be a fireside that evening and we’d love to see them there.
At the fireside I noticed that although many were in attendance, Cassie and Will were not among them. “I knew they wouldn’t come,” I thought, somewhat smugly. With 10 minutes left in the fireside, I was quite surprised to see Cassie and Will enter the chapel. The missionaries stood up quietly and left with them. “How about that!” I said to myself.
Christmas break came soon after that, and I attended my home ward for the holidays. A month later when I returned to my college ward, one of the members excitedly approached me and asked if I would be at the baptism that evening. “Of course,” I said, “but who is getting baptized?” The sister answered, “Will, Cassie’s husband.” Husband? I went to look for Cassie as quickly as I could.
When I found Cassie and Will, I congratulated them on their marriage and Will’s baptism and asked how it had all come about. “Remember that fireside you invited us to attend?” Cassie answered. “We got there late, so the elders took us into another room and showed us a video. Will liked it so much he asked to hear the discussions. We were married, and today Will is getting baptized.” I was humbled and ashamed of myself and yet in total awe of Heavenly Father’s love for each of His children.
But this isn’t the end of the story. Not long ago I had the opportunity to return to my college ward after being away for six years. I was thrilled to see many familiar faces and to introduce my old friends to my husband and two children.
As I passed through the foyer, I saw someone I thought I knew but who looked different somehow. “Don’t I know you?” I said. “Yes, I’m Cassie. You were my visiting teacher. You remember Will, don’t you?” She pointed to the man standing to her left, then called to two children in the hallway. “And these are our two children.” She looked happy, peaceful, and sure of herself. She said she was serving in the Primary presidency. “Have you had a chance to go to the temple?” I inquired. “Which one?” she asked with a smile. “Chicago? Detroit? Nauvoo? We’ve been to all of them.”
This encounter once again reminded me “that by small and simple things are great things brought to pass” (Alma 37:6)—even a small thing like a phone call.

Not since I left France in 1965 had I personally known another missionary called to serve there, until Sister Marian Ream departed from our ward for Paris in the winter of 1978. I wrote her letters of encouragement, and she responded with postcards telling me of the progress of the mission.
The following summer I was startled to find enclosed with her letter a picture of me and a junior companion taken in Versailles in 1964. Where had she found this picture?
“Dear Gladys,” her letter read, “A strange thing happened last week. We were at the Desmurs home to talk with them and get some copies of the Book of Mormon they had for us. When they found out I had always been a member of the Church, Sister Desmurs stood on a chair in her front room and got this picture down. She pointed to the missionary on the right and asked me if I knew her. I looked for a minute and said, ‘I’m not sure, but I think it’s Sister Farmer who lives in my ward in Provo, Utah.’ The whole family was very excited to think I might have identified this missionary. Sister Desmurs had tears in her eyes. She said it was because of the testimony of this sister that she had joined the Church. She had asked countless missionaries since if they could identify and help locate her.”
Sister Ream went on to describe the family to me. The father, now second counselor in the ward bishopric, had joined the Church several months after his wife’s baptism. The entire family of seven was active and very helpful to the missionaries.

While watching a documentary on the Amazon jungle, I learned that missionaries from various religions had taught the Native Americans about Jesus Christ. I began to wonder about the salvation of the millions of their ancestors who had never heard about Jesus, the gospel, or saving ordinances like baptism. If the Savior came for the salvation of all humankind, why had so many throughout history been excluded from His glorious message?
I searched for answers in the Bible, but I couldn’t find anything suggesting that the Old World was even aware of the civilizations in the Americas. No pastor, priest, or Bible student could answer my questions.
One day I was moved by a hymn I heard. I learned the hymn in my own language, Portuguese, and as I struggled to translate it into English, I remembered that my Latter-day Saint neighbor, Jesuina, often received American missionaries in her home. I asked her if the missionaries could translate it for me. The next day they left a translation with a short note that read, “It was a pleasure to be able to help you. One day we would like to meet you.”
When I met the missionaries a week later, they invited me to visit their church. But I did not like Mormons. Members of my family and leaders of other churches I had investigated criticized them, calling them a dangerous sect. They made many absurd criticisms that I believed to be true. One rainy Sunday shortly thereafter, however, I awoke with a great desire to visit their church—to repay them for their kindness but also out of curiosity. During the first meeting, people went to the pulpit and testified they knew that the Church and the Book of Mormon were true and that Joseph Smith was a prophet of God. Somewhat disturbed, I left the meeting and went to Sunday School.
When the teacher mentioned scriptures or stories from the Bible, I was eager to participate. But when she spoke about the Book of Mormon, I remained quiet and pensive. Why another book if we already had the Bible? Before I left, the teacher thanked me for my participation and then surprised me by giving me her copy of the Book of Mormon.
When I returned home, I went to my room, knelt on the floor, and began a sincere conversation with Heavenly Father. I told Him that I felt something special about the Mormon Church but that I didn’t want the adversary to delude me. I prayed that He would help resolve my confusion and show me which church was true.
Afterward I felt a great desire to read the Book of Mormon. I prayed again for strength and direction. During my prayer, I felt a strong and good feeling—an interior warmth. I knew I was not alone at that moment. A thought came instantly into my head: “Read the book!”
I opened it and began reading. Before I had finished the introduction, tears began running down my face as the Lord revealed to me the mystery of the Native Americans. The Book of Mormon seemed prepared especially to respond to my concerns. I felt great joy to have my questions answered. It was as though the ancient Americans had spoken from their graves to tell me about their lives and to testify that they also knew Jesus and that He had suffered for them as well.
Amazed with my discovery, I sought out the missionaries and listened to their lessons. On Easter Sunday, March 31, 1991, I descended into the waters of baptism—the best decision I had ever made.
I feel immensely grateful to Heavenly Father for His mercy and great wisdom. I know that He is just, that He has not forgotten any of His children, and that He is eager to reveal His plan to all humankind. I know that the Book of Mormon is a sacred book. It is true.

In this picture, I’m reading a story to my brother. I like reading a lot! I am in the third grade. I also like mathematics and drawing. One of my classmates is not a member of the Church, but I taught her about the Word of Wisdom and told her to drink milk instead of coffee or tea. I also taught her how to pray to Heavenly Father, since she didn’t know. I also invited her to family home evening at my house.

For 35 years many people discussed the gospel with me. My wife never missed an opportunity to talk about it, and she would cleverly leave the Book of Mormon and Ensign magazine in plain sight. Of course, I never picked them up. She invited the missionaries over on many occasions; two or three sets of them even taught me the missionary lessons.
So what was keeping me from entering the waters of baptism?
I always had an excuse. I worked long hours. I didn’t see that I’d ever have time for the gospel. I was much too busy making money. So I told Eva, “Sometime when things slow down and I have more time, I’ll read the Book of Mormon.”
But I never did. Besides, I had never been much of a reader, and when I tried to read the Bible, it didn’t make any sense to me. So that was the end of that.
There was another thing that was keeping me from joining the Church, something more serious: the sinful life I was leading. King Benjamin teaches us that “the natural man is an enemy to God … unless he yields to the enticings of the Holy Spirit” (Mosiah 3:19). I did not yield—I was sitting on the fence. The Savior said, “He that is not with me is against me” (Matthew 12:30). I realize now that because of the way I was living my life, I was against Him. I needed to change.
I was living around the gospel but never actually living it, but as time went on, I started to feel the Spirit. I stopped partying and drinking. When I made that change, the Spirit started to manifest itself more frequently. I still wasn’t where I needed to be—my language wasn’t very good and I had some other bad habits to work on—but I was changing.
Then one day I received a package. It was from one of my daughters, Linda. It contained a Book of Mormon and a Bible with lots of marked scriptures. She also wrote me a letter in which she told me how much she loved me and wanted me to know what she knew.
She wrote, “The only way to know if the gospel of Jesus Christ is true is to ask with a sincere heart and with real intent.”
Linda then shared a series of scriptures that led me on a journey of prayer and scripture study.
“The only way I get to know my Savior and Heavenly Father,” she wrote, “is by praying and reading about Them in scriptures.”
She then described how important humility is and how, without God in her life, she couldn’t have peace. Finally, she wrote, “Don’t procrastinate anymore. You have been given so much. Now it’s time to give back to Heavenly Father. This is the only way to true happiness.”
I no longer had any excuses. Work slowed down, and I had some extra time. So I started reading and studying the scriptures she had outlined for me, which gave me the desire to read the entire Book of Mormon. But there were still so many things I did not understand.
By this time I was attending sacrament meeting because my wife said it would be nice if I came and sat beside her. She also suggested I read the Doctrine and Covenants. I did, and I understood it better. Then, with my wife’s help, I read the Book of Mormon and experienced the scriptures coming to life. Through lots of prayer, the Spirit was ignited in me.
What made the difference in me? The Holy Spirit and a knowledge of the scriptures. Both gave me the courage to change my life and to ask God for forgiveness of my sins, which were what had really kept me from joining the Church all those years.
Confessing my sins was very difficult. It brought me such pain that I lay in bed for three days in sorrow. But through the Atonement of Jesus Christ, I was forgiven. Then Heavenly Father gave me the strength to get up and get on with my new life.
My son Kevin baptized me on July 9, 2005. One of the missionaries who had taught my wife decades earlier attended. Two years later I took my family to the San Diego California Temple to be sealed for time and eternity.
The last seven years have been the happiest years of my life. I can finally take my place as the patriarch and spiritual leader of our family and share in the gospel with my wife, our children, and our nine grandchildren. This family unity has spiritually strengthened everyone. A son-in-law has joined the Church, and four of our grandchildren have served or are serving missions. My new life in the Church is a miracle. I had no idea what great happiness and growth it would bring me.
I am so thankful for this second chance. I am grateful to be making up for those lost years by doing God’s work.

In May of 1974, I was with Brother John H. Groberg in the Tongan islands. We had an appointment to visit the king of Tonga, and we met with him in a formal session. We exchanged the normal pleasantries. However, before we left, John Groberg said something that was out of the ordinary. He said, “Your Majesty, you should really become a Mormon and your subjects as well, for then your problems and their problems would largely be solved.”

The king smiled broadly and answered, “John Groberg, perhaps you’re right.”

I thought of the Apostle Paul before Agrippa. I thought of Agrippa’s response to Paul’s testimony: “Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian.”4 Brother Groberg had the courage to bear his testimony to a king.

I will never forget, while engaged in a hurricane clean-up, when one person in my group was prompted to immediately go to a small town of a few hundred people. When we arrived there we saw a large group of people lined up outside the town’s only building. Inside sitting on a chair by herself, was a young woman in tears. She was the first person in this town to ever graduate from college and had returned to help others achieve GED diplomas. She said something to the effect, “I don’t have anything to give them. Everything has been wiped out and everybody is looking to me to solve it.” We explained that though our Church we could get her supplies and relief. She thanked us, and then said: “I didn’t know anybody knew I was alive.” The truth was we didn’t, but God did, and because we hearkened to the whisper of the Spirit, lives were blessed.

You may remember a story about a ship’s captain who had a problem with his pride. One night at sea, this captain saw what looked like the light of another ship heading toward him. He had his signalman blink to the other ship: “Change your course 10 degrees south.” The reply came back, “Change your course 10 degrees north.” The ship’s captain answered, “I am a captain. Change your course south.” To which the reply came, “Well, I am a seaman first class. Change your course north.” This so infuriated the captain, he signaled back, “I say change your course south. I am on a battleship!” To which the reply came back, “And I say change your course north. I am in a lighthouse” (adapted from Hope Health Letter [Kalamazoo, Mich.: Hope Health Institute], Oct. 1993, p. 1).

Also deeply comforting to me is a less well known but equally dramatic vision that came to President John Taylor during another financial crisis in our early years. Zina P. Young Williams [Card], the dean of women at the Brigham Young Academy and daughter of Brigham Young, came to President Taylor very distraught because the financial troubles of the school were so severe that they threatened to close it.

After listening to Sister Williams’s plea for help, President Taylor took her hand “in a fatherly way” and said:

“My dear child, I have something of importance to tell you that I know will make you happy. I have been visited by your father. He came to me in the silence of the night clothed in brightness and with a face beaming with love and confidence told me things of great importance and among others that the school being taught by Brother [Karl G.] Maeser was accepted in the heavens and was a part of the great plan of life and salvation; . . . there was a bright future in store . . . and that Christ himself was directing, and had a care over this school.”

Sister Kim told you about the earthquake. It was a 7.6 quake. Many people lived in tents for weeks or months, including some of our missionaries. Most of my responses were automatic because I was involved with Hurricane Iniki that hit Kauai. I was the Senior Medical Administrator at the time in the Guard, and was in the Diamond Head Crater Civil Defense Command Center when the first communications came out of Kauai. In the ensuing days, I worked with other relief organizations and military units to quickly take relief to the people of Kauai. From this experience, I knew exactly what to do when the earthquake hit Taiwan. I learned that experiences in other fields can be transferred to church callings.

About a week after the earthquake, I received a call from the vice-president of the Tsu Chi Buddhist Benevolent Society in Central Taiwan in the morning. He said, "President Kim, we are an organization of older people who have money and good will. We are in the process of building temporary housing for the victims of the earthquake. But we lack the muscles to pour cement and build the foundations for those homes. We know that you have young missionaries here. Can you help us?"
I said, "How many young men do you need?"
"About forty."
"When do you need them?"
"The cement trucks start arriving at 2:00 this afternoon."
I concluded, "I will try and give you the help you need."
I called my Assistants and had them call four zones of missionaries to bike to Chunghsing and help the Buddhists build their temporary housing. Some of them biked over two hours, but by 2:00 they were all working side by side with their Buddhist brothers. Some of our missionaries came from families in the construction business, so they were even of greater help. For two weeks they worked together and built a great relationship. Later, the Vice-President confided in me, "We actually had asked some other churches to help, but they declined saying that they needed to take care of their own members. Your church truly is a church where love has no bounds." This story was even printed in the Tzuchi Foundations' magazine, so we got great coverage from that. I learned that selfless service brings greater rewards most of which are unexpected.

Another common experience with light helps us learn an additional truth about the “line upon line, precept upon precept” pattern of revelation. Sometimes the sun rises on a morning that is cloudy or foggy. Because of the overcast conditions, perceiving the light is more difficult, and identifying the precise moment when the sun rises over the horizon is not possible. But on such a morning we nonetheless have sufficient light to recognize a new day and to conduct our affairs.
In a similar way, we many times receive revelation without recognizing precisely how or when we are receiving revelation. An important episode from Church history illustrates this principle.
In the spring of 1829, Oliver Cowdery was a schoolteacher in Palmyra, New York. As he learned about Joseph Smith and the work of translating the Book of Mormon, Oliver felt impressed to offer his assistance to the young prophet. Consequently, he traveled to Harmony, Pennsylvania, and became Joseph’s scribe. The timing of his arrival and the help he provided were vital to the coming forth of the Book of Mormon.
The Savior subsequently revealed to Oliver that as often as he had prayed for guidance, he had received direction from the Spirit of the Lord. “If it had not been so,” the Lord declared, “thou wouldst not have come to the place where thou art at this time. Behold, thou knowest that thou hast inquired of me and I did enlighten thy mind; and now I tell thee these things that thou mayest know that thou hast been enlightened by the Spirit of truth” (D&C 6:14–15).
Thus, Oliver received a revelation through the Prophet Joseph Smith informing him that he had been receiving revelation. Apparently Oliver had not recognized how and when he had been receiving direction from God and needed this instruction to increase his understanding about the spirit of revelation. In essence, Oliver had been walking in the light as the sun was rising on a cloudy morning.
In many of the uncertainties and challenges we encounter in our lives, God requires us to do our best, to act and not be acted upon (see 2 Nephi 2:26), and to trust in Him. We may not see angels, hear heavenly voices, or receive overwhelming spiritual impressions. We frequently may press forward hoping and praying—but without absolute assurance—that we are acting in accordance with God’s will. But as we honor our covenants and keep the commandments, as we strive ever more consistently to do good and to become better, we can walk with the confidence that God will guide our steps. And we can speak with the assurance that God will inspire our utterances. This is in part the meaning of the scripture that declares, “Then shall thy confidence wax strong in the presence of God” (D&C 121:45).
As you appropriately seek for and apply unto the spirit of revelation, I promise you will “walk in the light of the Lord” (Isaiah 2:5; 2 Nephi 12:5). Sometimes the spirit of revelation will operate immediately and intensely, other times subtly and gradually, and often so delicately you may not even consciously recognize it. But regardless of the pattern whereby this blessing is received, the light it provides will illuminate and enlarge your soul, enlighten your understanding (see Alma 5:7; 32:28), and direct and protect you and your family.
I declare my apostolic witness that the Father and the Son live. The spirit of revelation is real—and can and does function in our individual lives and in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I testify of these truths in the sacred name of the Lord Jesus Christ, amen.

At a certain point in my activation, I loved going to church, but I still didn’t feel perfectly comfortable there. I had to decide if I really had a testimony of what I was doing. Was I going back for my children? For my parents? Because I wanted to feel better about myself? What exactly did it mean to have a testimony of the gospel?
I listened intently to members bearing their testimonies in sacrament meeting, wondering if my testimony was real. One Sunday my Gospel Essentials teacher told us that the only thing a person needs to do to begin gaining a testimony is have faith that Jesus Christ lives and presides over the Church.
These words hit me so strongly that tears started streaming down my face. I knew that I knew that much. I knew that Jesus Christ lives, that he loves me, and that he presides over the Church. I also knew I had a testimony of disciplinary councils, prayer, the Word of Wisdom, tithing, and leaders who are called of God. I went home from church that day knowing that I had a testimony.

When I turned 12, I started to really think about how I could be involved in the gospel.
I was living in my hometown of Taranto, Italy. It had been only a few years since my brother and I had met the missionaries and become members of the Church, but I started feeling eager to participate more. I began to feel a desire to pass the sacrament. I remember walking to church each Sunday with a prayer in my heart that I would be called to pass the sacrament.
One Sunday morning, my branch president called me into his office. He said, “Massimo, the Lord wants you to receive the priesthood and be ordained a deacon.”
When I heard those words—“the Lord wants you”—something struck me. I felt that it wasn’t a human asking me to do something, but that it really was the Lord personally extending a responsibility. When my branch president looked at me, I felt that the Lord was reaching out to me.
As I began to pass the sacrament every Sunday, I could feel the power of godliness in my life. I felt responsible, I felt involved, and I knew that I was doing the Lord’s work. I felt closer to Him by serving Him.
This experience of feeling the Lord’s hand both through my leaders and in my responsibilities helped me develop a deeper personal relationship with Him. I wanted to be more involved in the gospel; as I lived that way, I felt the presence of God in my life. Developing this kind of relationship with Him is one of the most important things you can do in your youth.
As I met with my branch president, it made a deep spiritual impression on me when I felt that it was the Lord, not just my branch president, giving me a responsibility. By recognizing the Lord in my leader, I felt closer to Him, and my relationship with Him deepened.
We can also develop a personal relationship with the Lord by recognizing His presence as we participate in the ordinances of the gospel. When we are involved in the ordinances—like the sacrament—we know that “the power of godliness is manifest” (D&C 84:20). When I passed the sacrament, even at the age of 12 or 13, I really felt that I was an instrument in His hands. I felt the presence and power of God in those ordinances and the power of godliness in my life. Having that sacred experience each week by recognizing the Lord in this ordinance helped me deepen my personal relationship with the Lord.

In May 2020, Lyn participated in the 21 Day Family Connections Experiment, a family history project that invites individuals to spend at least a few minutes every day connecting with their family, past and present, for 21 consecutive days. Recently she shared her experience with the project in Church News.
Lyn enjoyed the project so much she joined the social media/invitation team and is assisting people to see the benefits of the experiment in Australia and around the world.

The Develis’ moved from Brazil to New Zealand in 2018, a year after they married. Andressa’s English was limited to a few phrases like “good morning” and “thank you.” Fortunately, Andre had more exposure to English due to his mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, helping them settle in their new environment.
Andressa said, “I was raised by my grandparents in a small town in Brazil, and we were really poor. Public universities are reserved for the best students, and I was just an average student, so I didn’t get that opportunity.”
She found an affordable nursing course but wasn’t interested in it—she just wanted to further her education. After graduating, Andressa and Andre decided to move to New Zealand for greater opportunities.
Upon arriving, Andressa looked for ways to improve her English. She attended language classes and worked for several families tending their children, which helped her English progress significantly. “Language immersion is key!” she said.
Yearning for more professional growth, Andressa was accepted into the BYU-Pathway program in 2020, where she completed her general proficiencies in English and mathematics before earning a teaching English as a foreign language certification under the professional studies degree, which opened many opportunities for her.
“That’s what I love about BYU-Pathway. It’s a pathway to marketable skills,” she said. “It’s a flexible pathway to a bachelor’s degree, and you can work and achieve certificates along the way.”
After completing her certificate, Andressa took online courses in communications through Ensign College and completed a certificate in social media marketing. She knew she was on the right pathway when she helped with the social media efforts for Auckland’s Light the World giving machine in December 2023.
“Social media can be quite a challenging space, but I think it can be used in positive ways,” she said. “That experience helped me see how I could make a positive difference in others’ lives.”
“BYU-Pathway has blessed me with a constant drive to seek better opportunities,” Andressa said. “That’s a lesson I will carry with me the rest of my life.”

I was at my friend’s house, and he wanted us to ride our bikes to the church. One of our family rules is that if we go somewhere other than where we told our parents we would be, we have to call and let them know.
I told my friend that I needed to call my mom, and he told me not to. He didn’t want to wait, and he said, “Let’s just go.”
I said I needed to call my mom first, and then he started calling me names and being mean to me. I didn’t go with him. I went home instead, even though I felt left out. I knew that I was supposed to obey my mom.

When I was almost 18, I flew to a small town called Soldotna, Alaska, to work for the summer. This was my first experience living away from home. My parents had arranged for me to work for and live with their good friends the Wrights, who owned the local grocery store. I hoped to earn enough money for college. I also hoped to return home with an answer to a question that repeatedly entered my mind: Is there really a God?
I needed to obtain an answer for myself. So I resolved to pray every night and ask God if He was real. Somehow I felt that if God existed, He would answer my prayer. If I never received an answer, then I would know He didn’t exist. Simple, I thought.
At the Wrights’ home, I shared a bedroom with their daughter Lisa. She was home from Brigham Young University for the summer and worked at the grocery store with me. I admired Lisa from the start. She was beautiful, intelligent, confident, and enthusiastic about life. That summer we spent nearly every hour of every day together.
I loved listening to Lisa tell me about college life. Her life sounded fun and very independent. Lisa had her life organized and balanced, with the right priorities firmly in place.
My admiration for Lisa grew as I observed her reading the scriptures daily and praying each morning and night. I wanted to ask Lisa how she had obtained her faith in God but felt ashamed of my lack of faith. I remember lying in bed, wondering what Lisa talked to God about in her prayers.
Every night I knelt by my bed and said a quick prayer, asking God if He was there. Yet I didn’t feel anything special or spiritual. I did not hear a voice. I felt the same after my prayers as I did before them. This nightly routine went on for two months. Discouraged, I found my doubts in God increasing.
One night, when I was feeling deeply homesick, tears welled in my eyes. I desperately wanted to be near my family, friends, and familiar surroundings. Aching to talk to someone who knew and loved me, I knelt in prayer. “God, I really need You right now,” I began. For the next several minutes, I released my true feelings to my Father in Heaven. I told Him everything. I talked with Him as though I believed He was there.
A warmth wrapped around me. I began to feel as though Heavenly Father had come down and taken me in His arms. I was no longer alone. Love and peace embraced me. I knew there was a God.
I wondered why receiving an answer to my prayer took more than two months. Jeremiah 29:13 gave me the answer: “And ye shall seek me, and find me, when ye shall search for me with all your heart.”
I finally received an answer to my prayer after I dug deep into my heart. I placed faith in God’s existence. I searched high into the heavens with my words and tears.
My life has changed because of that one night. I served a mission and married in the temple. My faith in God’s existence continues to increase.
I often think back to that summer in Alaska. Without Lisa’s example, I might not have persevered through those months of praying. I might have quit and never discovered the love of my Heavenly Father. I will forever be grateful to Lisa and her example. She helped me come to know God and feel His love for me.

For the choir and their guests, that journey of the spirit began on December 27, shortly after their arrival in Israel, as they attended a sacrament meeting at the Brigham Young University Jerusalem Center. They saw Jerusalem at night as they sat in the center’s auditorium, with its glass walls on three sides. Before them spread a full view of many of the places where Jesus walked—from the road to Bethlehem on the left, to the area of Gethsemane on the right. Every facet of the meeting was filled with a strong spirit—from the opening prayer and partaking of the sacrament, to the talks by Truman Madsen, director of the Jerusalem Center; Ann Madsen, a faculty member; and Elder Jeffrey R. Holland.
“I helped set up the sacrament trays,” says Stephen Bardsley, a choir member. “I was asked to bless the bread. How can I express in words the tender feelings that swelled up in my soul? I wept every time I thought about the singular privilege of blessing the sacrament as the Savior had done so many years ago near here. As I prayed, each word was sweet as it flowed slowly out of my mouth. To speak his sacred name and to plead to Heavenly Father to bless the bread filled me with great emotion.”
After the sacrament, Brother Madsen spoke. “We dreamed it, we hoped it, and now it is happening,” he said of the choir’s visit. “The Lord has called you here.”
Elder Holland told the story of Orson Hyde’s dedication of this land for the return of the Jews as he stood on the Mount of Olives on 24 October 1841. “You are making memories and history for a dispensation,” he said. “I testify of that.”

Many years ago, I was the bishop of a new ward in Potomac, Maryland. We had to meet in a school, so one of our first goals as a ward was to build a meetinghouse. Back then, each ward in the Church had to help pay for its meetinghouse, and we sent letters to all the adults in our ward, asking if they would make a donation. As a bishopric, we then decided that the entire ward should be involved, so we also sent letters to the children and teenagers.
The following Sunday, I sat on the stand in Junior Sunday School, which was the meeting children used to attend while their parents were in regular Sunday School. As the music played and the children walked in, one little boy, Jimmy Theurer, came up to me on the stand and placed a nickel in my hand. Our meetinghouse got its start with the contribution of that one little boy.
This experience helped me realize that it’s important for children to be a part of what we do in the Church. They can do many good things for the Church, and they can help and encourage their parents to do good things as well.