Gospel Story Finder

“Look! Look what you’ve done!” Akiko shouted at her little brother. She held up the broken Japanese semi (cicada) cage Tadomi had accidentally broken. “I’ll have to build this one all over again,” she said, gathering the bamboo pieces into a pile. She held up the other cage that was unbroken to hear the sharp chirp of the semi inside. “I’m going to show Mr. Ohashi this one,” she told Tadomi.
“May I come along? I could carry the cage for you,” Tadomi offered eagerly.
“No, thank you. I can carry it myself. I don’t want this one broken too,” said Akiko. She turned and skipped down the lane, admiring the pink cherry blossoms as she passed. Stopping for a moment, she picked up a few pink petals from the ground and added them to her semi cage.
Soon Akiko arrived at Mr. Ohashi’s outdoor fish market where she saw him hanging up a line of dried fish out in front. He still had a big box of fish left to hang up.
“Hello, Akiko. What do you have there?” asked Mr. Ohashi.
Akiko held up her bamboo cage with the chirping semi inside. “Listen,” she said as she held the cage up to Mr. Ohashi’s ear.
“Your semi sings beautifully. That’s a nicely built cage too,” he said.
“Thank you, Mr. Ohashi,” said Akiko.
“Would you like to help me display the rest of the fish? You can hand them to me out of the crate,” said Mr. Ohashi.
Akiko set her cage down and took a stack of dried fish out of the box. As she held them under her arm, two long pieces fell out of the stack into a muddy puddle.
“Oh! Look what I’ve done,” cried Akiko, close to tears. She tried to pick up the two dirty pieces of fish.
“It’s OK, Akiko. I know you didn’t mean to,” comforted Mr. Ohashi, patting her shoulder gently. “How about helping me finish?” he asked.
Akiko was surprised that he still wanted her help after what she had done. While she helped Mr. Ohashi hang up the rest of his fish, she thought about how she had acted with Tadomi.
“Come again soon,” called Mr. Ohashi, as Akiko handed him the last fish.
When she arrived home she saw Tadomi, looking very unhappy, rolling a small red ball back and forth near their doorstep. “Tadomi, can you help me rebuild the cage?” Akiko invited. “I know it was just an accident that you broke it.”
Tadomi looked surprised. “Do you really want me to help?” he asked.
“Of course I do, silly. I need you to hand me the bamboo pieces.”
So Tadomi began to hand Akiko the pieces she needed as she worked. Soon the cage was half finished. As Tadomi was waiting for Akiko to ask for the next piece, he rolled some long pieces back and forth. He did it faster and faster on the stone path. Then, without meaning to, Tadomi snapped the bunch in half.
“Oh, no! Akiko, I didn’t—” Tadomi began, trying to explain.
“I know you didn’t mean to do it,” Akiko said understandingly.
Tadomi’s face brightened. Then they both laughed and went into the house to get more bamboo for the cage.

Another day, Bob had stopped to fish. When he looked up, a large wolf, about 30 feet away across the creek, was staring at him. It followed us for several days. I’m pretty sure he was a dominant wolf that had been driven out of his pack. He still carried his tail curled way up above the top of his back, a sign in the society of the pack that he’s a leader. We finally lost him when we crossed a large lake.

One final experience that I would like to share is one of having faith in praying for your purpose. As you prepare for your graduation, ask Heavenly Father for guidance on where you are needed next. I can testify that entering here to learn and going forth to serve has blessed my professional life. I have always prayed to Heavenly Father where do you need me next. He has always answered this prayer. Looking at my resume I can see the Lord’s hand that prepared me for this current position now as the CIO for BYU–Hawaii. My goal in each place I worked at was to do my best to learn, do what was required, and to do it well. I was never the type to say I am in it for the promotion or title. I just wanted to be a part of the team. This position was something that came up unexpectedly. I was working at the Office of IT at BYU in Provo and we were challenged at the time by our CIO to pray for our purpose and where we fit in the organization. I took this challenge to heart.

I applied for an internal position at BYU in Provo thinking that was the change I needed. But at the same time I also received an email from a friend that this position was open. He recalled that I told him that I would love to be CIO of BYU–Hawaii someday. I let the email sit for about a week. The more I prayed the more I felt to just apply. So, I did, and to much surprise I got a call that same week asking me how interested I was in moving to Hawaii and in the position. I was then fortunate to get a call to schedule my first interview and then my second interview. By this time, I knew that I better let my husband know. I told him that if I make the finals that we would be flown out to Laie for a couple of days, and even if I don’t get the job at least we were able to get a free trip to Hawaii.

When we arrived here, I was called to remembrance and gratitude. Memories of our time here and the special spirit that is felt here filled my heart. Meeting my future team in my interviews felt right. But I was torn with the responsibilities of taking care of my mother, the distance from my children and grand-children, and missing out on my youngest son’s collegiate football games. On the second day of interviews, I woke up early to go running. I remember sitting in front of the temple and was torn on how this decision would affect my family especially my youngest son as my husband and I have supported all of our sons by being present at all their games. As I sat in front of the temple, I thought, “Lord if you need me here please help me to balance my time with my son and please help me to provide for my mother and take care of all that is needed.” When I got back to the guest house, I checked my phone and there was a text from my son saying that he supported me and wanted me to be happy. In my last interview knowing the sacrifices that will be made, I asked the team to pray for me and for them to know if I am the right fit for this position.

Upon returning to Utah, the next person that I needed to talk to was my mother. I wasn’t sure if she would be open to moving. But after family prayer, it was to my surprise that my mother was open to moving to Hawaii if I got the job. The final challenge was how my husband and I were going to make things work with him staying back in Utah to finish his coaching season as the Head Coach for Orem. At the time we thought three months would be no problem being away from each other. Let’s just say we are never doing that again.

Throughout that time, I stayed in touch with VP Kevin Schlag. We wanted to make sure that I was “ALL IN” if I was given the opportunity. Later that month, I received the call and was offered the position to serve as the new CIO. What a wonderful opportunity to have been here as a student that entered to learn, gone forth serve, and now return to give back. With much prayer and thought my husband and I felt that it was the right decision. It may not have made logical sense, but it made spiritual sense.

It was then the end of July, and things were set in motion. Packing and relocation began. My official start date was September 1. My mother, daughter, and I were packed and on a plane to start our new journey here. We were all excited for this next chapter. When we arrived, I didn’t have much time to settle and was quickly reminded of some of the challenges in returning to island life on the North Shore. So, I had a two-week adjustment of unpacking, getting settled, and adjusting to how far things are from Laie. Then I received the news that my sister had passed in American Samoa. Losing a sibling was unexpected and it didn’t really hit me until I got back from her funeral that she was no longer here with us. October and November came and the separation from my husband was easier said than done as we agreed on, but we made it work. But again, we are never doing that again. As the African Proverbs state,” If you want to go fast go alone if you want to go far go together.”

Then in December I received news of my father’s passing. I just got back from the trip that I made to reunite with my husband. We understand that death is part of living but when my father passed I was not prepared for the unexpected grief that I felt. This experience knocked me off my core. Many people know me as a smiley person and I can smile through a lot of things. But this time I could not smile. Losing a parent is something that we know will eventually happen but until it happens you don’t realize how much a part of you feels empty. I want to thank my husband who held it together for me and was patient with me and let me grieve. I am grateful that I witnessed miracles during my time of grief. The veil is truly thin.

I again see the Lord's hand in my life knowing that I needed to be here at this time. Losing loved ones is hard. I can see how some struggle to get past it. I am truly grateful that the Lord has given me this opportunity to be here. Being here to celebrate the New Year was truly a blessing.

Walking around Laie with my daughter that night was what I needed to get out of the funk I was in. I want to thank the community for the beautiful display of fireworks to welcome the new year. That day reminded me that is how each day should be celebrated. We should all wake up each day excited to start anew. Whatever was done yesterday was yesterday. Today is a new day.

But there is also a lonely side to being known as LDS. As well liked as the Hiltschers are, there are some activities, particularly on the weekends, that the brothers are excluded from. “Sometimes we wish there wouldn’t be drinking at the parties so we would go,” Brent explained. “But it’s not like we wish we could drink. A lot of weekends, we just go our separate ways from our school friends.”
What do they do then? They found an answer one weekend when they decided to throw a party of their own. They had lots of games, lots of food, and lots of fun. That showed their school friends that you can have fun without drinking.

A little over a year ago, my wife and I traveled to Jiangxi, China to adopt a three-year-old, little girl. Our other two daughters were also brought into our family by the Lord through the miracle of adoption, but this was our first experience with an international adoption. This was not our plan. In fact, we were completely caught off-guard when the Lord let us know, in very clear terms, that He had prepared us and guided us into this adoption and that He meant Meizi to be our daughter. The last year has been amazing and miraculous for us to be able to witness the miracle of a little heart that had never known a family, or the light of the gospel, or the comfort of prayer, being warmed and brightened by the Spirit and the sweet love of a “forever mommy.” There is a light in her eyes now that wasn’t there a year ago. The light of family love and God’s love has pushed back the darkness and entropy of the world. In April of last year, we were able to take her to the temple to be sealed to her as part of our eternal family. This journey through endless applications, fees, certifications, paperwork, and interviews; and then on to a cold communist orphanage on a dark, rainy December day; and finally into the warmth and light of the Lord’s temple has been one of the most challenging experiences of our lives but certainly one of the most rewarding to be able to be a part of this miracle of light pushing back darkness. Because of the goodness and mercy of God – and I have to acknowledge my angel wife’s faith, determination, and prayers – there is one less orphan in the world, and our family is that much brighter and more complete.

My wife, Amy, loves new experiences. In 2017 she convinced our family that we needed to travel five hours from Provo to eastern Idaho to see the full solar eclipse in person. We got organized and took off driving to the nearest zone of totality—the ideal place to observe a solar eclipse. We drove in bumper-to-bumper traffic along what are usually empty roads. We found what I am sure was the last parking spot in all of Idaho and then herded the kids past revelers who looked like they had been camped there for days or weeks. All I could think was, “Is this really worth it? We could have watched this online!”
We found a place to sit and squinted through our overpriced cardboard glasses as the partial eclipse began. Initially, I have to admit that I was pretty underwhelmed. But I watched and waited.
Suddenly the light around us began to change rapidly. The birds stopped chirping. The temperature dropped. The laughter, music, and talking all around us quieted. “It’s happening!” people started to say out loud. The darkness deepened. We took off our cardboard glasses and stared upward, looking directly at the sun that was not there.
It is hard to describe what we saw. Even the most detailed pictures do not do it justice. What is more difficult to express is how I felt. I got goosebumps and found myself getting choked up. I stood there in the quiet darkness with my wife, my kids, and hundreds of onlookers—our eyes fixed on the sky—and marveled in awe at this remarkable heavenly expression. For one minute and forty-five seconds we stared in silent, reverent wonder.
I experienced something during the eclipse that I did not anticipate: a spiritual surprise, an unexpected connection to the divine.
The mood of the crowd was different as we walked quietly back toward the car. A couple stopped us and asked, “What did you think?” The woman’s eyes were still wet with tears. “Wasn’t it awesome?” she asked.

You talk with people every day who say that God does not exist or is far, far away. A woman sat next to me on a plane. I spoke to her. She strained to understand me. When she spoke, her accent almost overpowered her English. In answer to my question, she told me that she was returning to the place of her birth. She said that the occasion which drew her was a religious observance of the death of her father, who died many years ago. She had made the flight on the third, the seventh, the thirteenth, and the seventeenth anniversaries of his death. And now she was going again.
I told her that I admired her devotion to her father. She said, quietly, that she believed in the veneration of her ancestors. I asked her if her family had attended church. She smiled and said, “No, only go to church when someone dies.” I asked her if she believed in a god. She said, “Yes.” I asked her if she thought he was close by. She said, “No. If we should need him we would say, ‘come here,’” and she made a beckoning sign with her hand. I asked her who she believed God was. Her soft, tentative answer was, “Well, he is like one of our distant ancestors.”
She needed to hear the words you have heard spoken here: Jesus Christ, the fall of Adam, the Atonement, the Resurrection, repentance, eternal life, and the pure love of God. But I realized those words would not touch her. I remembered and understood the power of what Elder Spencer W. Kimball wrote in the beginning of his book The Miracle of Forgiveness. You may recall this warning:
“This book presupposes a belief in God and in life’s high purpose. Without God, repentance would have little meaning, and forgiveness would be both unnecessary and unreal. If there were no God, life would indeed be meaningless; … we might find justification in an urge to live only for today, to ‘eat, drink and be merry,’ to dissipate, to satisfy every worldly desire. If there were no God there would be no redemption, no resurrection, no eternities to anticipate, and consequently no hope” (The Miracle of Forgiveness [Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1969], pp. 3–4).
President Kimball’s words made me think not how different that woman was from me, but how much we were alike. God is our ancestor, not distant but close. He is the Father of our spirits; we are his children. But like that woman, we all at times feel far removed from him. Like her, if we are to have the words of the gospel of Jesus Christ touch us, then we must believe in God. We must want to be with him. And we must sense our need to be purified to be with him again.

I find in the life of my grandfather and grandmother Alexander DeWitt and Louise Vickery Christofferson an instance of such consecration. Grandpa was a strong man and was good at shearing sheep in the days before electric clippers. He got good enough, he said, that “in one day I sheared 287 sheep and could have sheared over 300, but we ran out of sheep.” During 1919 he sheared over 12,000 sheep, earning some $2,000. The money would have substantially expanded his farm and upgraded his home, but a call to serve in the Southern States Mission came from the Brethren, and with Louise’s full support, he accepted. He left his wife (then pregnant with their first son, my father) and their three daughters with the sheep-shearing money. Upon his joyous return two years later, he observed, “Our savings had lasted us throughout the two years, and we had $29 left.”

Cecilia Celeste Merrell of the Globe Second Ward, Globe Arizona Stake, had no intention of liking the astronomy course she had to take. But when she entered class on the first day and saw the teacher dressed as a wizard, she began to get other ideas.
Now she can’t stop winning awards for her astronomy projects. She’s won just about everything you can at science and engineering fairs and at local, national, and international competitions. She’s worked hard on her projects and now knows a lot about reaching for the stars.
She also reaches for the keys—piano and organ keys—which she plays at church. She sings, writes poetry, dances, and cooks—in addition to stargazing.

Oftentimes we are like the young merchant from Boston, who in 1849, as the story goes, was caught up in the fervor of the California gold rush. He sold all of his possessions to seek his fortune in the California rivers, which he was told were filled with gold nuggets so big that one could hardly carry them.

Day after endless day, the young man dipped his pan into the river and came up empty. His only reward was a growing pile of rocks. Discouraged and broke, he was ready to quit until one day an old, experienced prospector said to him, “That’s quite a pile of rocks you are getting there, my boy.”

The young man replied, “There’s no gold here. I’m going back home.”

Walking over to the pile of rocks, the old prospector said, “Oh, there is gold all right. You just have to know where to find it.” He picked two rocks up in his hands and crashed them together. One of the rocks split open, revealing several flecks of gold sparkling in the sunlight.

Noticing a bulging leather pouch fastened to the prospector’s waist, the young man said, “I’m looking for nuggets like the ones in your pouch, not just tiny flecks.”

The old prospector extended his pouch toward the young man, who looked inside, expecting to see several large nuggets. He was stunned to see that the pouch was filled with thousands of flecks of gold.

The old prospector said, “Son, it seems to me you are so busy looking for large nuggets that you’re missing filling your pouch with these precious flecks of gold. The patient accumulation of these little flecks has brought me great wealth.”

This story illustrates the spiritual truth that Alma taught his son Helaman:

“By small and simple things are great things brought to pass.” . . .

Brothers and sisters, the gospel of Jesus Christ is simple. . . .

. . . Like the small flecks of gold that accumulate over time into a large treasure, our small and simple acts of kindness and service will accumulate into a life filled with love for Heavenly Father, devotion to the work of the Lord Jesus Christ, and a sense of peace and joy each time we reach out to one another.

I had other positive experiences and challenges during those early years. My parents liked to dance, and as children we took our turn being danced around the room in the arms of one of them or standing with our feet on top of theirs as they danced us around the room. One experience that made a lasting impression on me, relative to challenges, was an attempt to cross the irrigation ditch. When I told my father I wanted to get across the ditch, he said, “Jump.” When I said, “I can’t,” his answer was, “You can jump halfway, can’t you?” I tried, landing in the middle of a ditch full of water. That experience taught me two things: (1) not to trust my father—he loved to give challenges, and he loved to have a good laugh; and (2) never try to jump a ditch of water until you have tried it out on a dry ditch.

“Love your enemies,” challenged my Sunday School teacher one morning. “Do good to those that hate you. Then just watch what happens.”
At the time I received this challenge, my testimony was not yet firm, and I was skeptical about the practicality of this biblical teaching. It couldn’t possibly apply to my life. But I halfheartedly thought I might try it—that is, if I could think of an enemy.
After some thought, I concluded that I had no real enemies, so that took care of that. Then, suddenly, I remembered an incident. When we had moved into the end apartment of a row of four company-owned apartments, our outdoor water faucet wasn’t working. I asked the woman in the next apartment if I could hook my hose to her faucet to water my lawn. (There was no charge for the water.) She informed me that I certainly could not use her faucet and that, if mine was broken, I had better get it fixed and not bother her again!
Well! I would have no more to do with her! I was relieved some time later when she moved to the far end of our row of apartments. It would be just as well not to be next door to her anymore.
Now here was the challenge to love my enemies. She was the nearest person I could think of who would fit that description. Everyone else I knew was a friend. “I could try!” I thought.
Each day I hung out my laundry on the clotheslines at the end of the building, next to this woman’s apartment. She was always sitting on the porch alone. I had usually ignored her, but now I decided to prove whether or not loving my enemies would indeed work.
The next morning when I went to hang out the laundry, the woman was sitting on her porch as usual, drinking coffee and smoking a cigarette. I gave her a smile and said with a gay lilt, “Hi, there!” She glared at me and deliberately turned her head.
“That couldn’t hurt me,” I thought. “I’m just proving a point.” When I finished hanging out my clothes she had gone inside.
Each day after that, I merrily called out, “Hi!” as I passed her and never once got a smile or an answer. One morning, after about two weeks, much to my surprise, she walked over to where I was hanging wet clothes and exchanged a few remarks about the weather.
After that, each day when I came to hang out clothes, she came over and we said a few words—never anything personal. Sometimes we talked about the company both of our husbands worked for, sometimes the weather or a sale at a local store. I certainly never felt that we were friends in any sense of the word. She always seemed cold and reserved in her attitude.
Then one day my husband and I received word that we were to be transferred to a different locality. When I went out the next morning to hang my washing, the woman came to the clothesline as usual to talk. I told her that we were moving away. We passed a few comments about it, and I went back to my apartment.
About an hour after I had gone home, the woman appeared at my door. I was very surprised to see her. Neither of us had ever been in the other’s apartment. She had an odd, strained expression on her face. I invited her to sit down and we tried to talk a little. But there really seemed to be nothing to talk about.
Then, to my astonishment, she burst into tears, sobbing as if her heart would break. She said she couldn’t stand to have me move away. “You are the only friend I have in the whole world,” she said.
Me! Why, I didn’t even know her first name!
I couldn’t think of anything to say to my friend. I only knew that we weren’t enemies any more.
“Oh, Father,” I thought. “Forgive me for doubting your word. I didn’t really do anything for her. I only said hello and visited with her a little. What a flood of proof you’ve given me!”
I have found for myself—not only then, but many times since—that living the principles of the gospel in even the smallest way always proves them to be true.

When I turned 12 years old, I was the only young man attending my ward in Cape Town, South Africa. Even so, my bishop felt inspired to call a Young Men presidency.
My Young Men president could have said to himself, “What am I supposed to do with only one young man? We cannot organize activities for only one.” Instead, he gave of his best and magnified his calling. The presidency organized hikes, camps, Scouting activities, Mutual evenings on Tuesday nights, lessons on Sundays, sand boarding, and activities at the beach. After a while, other young men began coming out—two, then three, and then four.
I am filled with gratitude that these Young Men leaders were faithful in their callings and made an effort for just one young man—me. I am a better person because they didn’t give up and so are the others who participated in the Young Men program in our ward.
Greg Burgoyne, South Africa

I read the Book of Mormon from cover to cover for the first time when I was a young seminary student. I still remember the warm feeling that swelled in my soul, filled my heart, enlightened my understanding, and became more and more delightful, as described by Alma when he preached the word of God to his people. That feeling and additional light and truth with which the Lord saw fit to bless me eventually turned into knowledge that took root in my heart and became the foundation of my testimony. The Book of Mormon is the keystone that sustains my faith in the Lord and my testimony of the doctrine of Jesus Christ. It is one of the cornerstones that strengthens my witness of the truth of Christ’s divine atoning sacrifice. It is my shield against the adversary’s attempts to weaken my faith and instill disbelief and darkness in my mind. It gives me courage to boldly declare my testimony of the light and truth of the Savior to the world.

I think of the bishop of my boyhood. He was there when I was given a name and a blessing by my good father. He it was who interviewed me and found me worthy of baptism into the Lord’s church. He it was who interviewed me and found me worthy to be ordained a deacon. He called me to my first Church responsibility as a member of the presidency of the deacons quorum. He it was who presided over the quorum of priests to which I once belonged. He it was who recommended me to the stake president as worthy to receive the Melchizedek Priesthood. He it was who recommended me to the President of the Church as one worthy to serve as a missionary. He it was who welcomed me home and who signed my recommend as one worthy to be married in the house of the Lord.

I recently read a letter from a missionary, Sister Wilde, who had been serving in the Houston Texas East Mission for less than six months when Hurricane Harvey hit. In addition to their usual missionary work, she and her companion and other missionaries worked for days tearing out damaged walls, floors, and sopping-wet carpets—sometimes working from 9:00 in the morning until 7:30 at night.

Though her work is very challenging, Sister Wilde described her experience as “one of the most incredible things I have ever done in my life.” She said, “What a blessing it is to be a part of God’s work. . . . I cannot begin to express the way that my mission has changed me. . . . The Lord can do amazing things with us when we give ourselves over to Him” (Brooklyn Wilde, email to family and friends, 4 September 2017).

Janet Egbo of Big Qua Town Ward, Calabar Nigeria Stake
I am a teacher by profession, I reside and work in Calabar. I have always wanted additional income because what I earned was not sufficient to support my family. I was part of the self-reliance group in my stake and I joined the Starting and Growing My Business group.
I learned a lot of principles throughout the Starting and Growing My Business group meetings, which motivated me to start a business of my own. I never knew that I could start small and grow big.
The principles I learned that gave me the guide I needed to succeed were: payment of tithing, praying, savings, budgeting, and record keeping. I was able to start with two bags of flour and a bag of sugar. Today I have rented a shop for the business.
I have a variety of commodities on my shelves, and my shop is a mini supermarket because I have most of the items that households may need.
I am indeed grateful that I heeded the call to join a self-reliance group. I now have the additional income I needed.
I am now growing my business. I keep record of my sales, use a budget, and I can save money.
I now pay my tithing and fast offering, take care of my basic needs, and that of my family members.

Years ago a friend of mine spoke of his grandmother. She had lived a full life, always faithful to the Lord and to His Church. Yet one of her grandsons chose a life of crime. He was finally sentenced to prison. My friend recalled that his grandmother, as she drove along a highway to visit her grandson in prison, had tears in her eyes as she prayed with anguish, “I’ve tried to live a good life. Why, why do I have this tragedy of a grandson who seems to have destroyed his life?”

The answer came to her mind in these words: “I gave him to you because I knew you could and would love him no matter what he did.”

My life changed forever when my husband and I went to the doctor to check the gender and development of our unborn baby. I cried with joy when we discovered that I was expecting twins. But my tears turned to ones of despair as the doctor explained that a series of complications made it unlikely that the twins would survive until birth. The doctor suggested terminating the pregnancy. She said proceeding would be risky and that I would have to be hospitalized at some point.
Despite the dangers, we decided to continue the pregnancy.
On the drive home I realized the severity of the situation. I wondered how I could leave my husband and our three children and stay for an extended period in the hospital. Knowing that our babies would likely be delivered prematurely—and might not live—became overwhelming for me. I wasn’t sure I could endure this trial.
Only after I received a priesthood blessing from my husband and father-in-law did I feel peace. I realized that no matter what the outcome was, my family and I would be all right. I felt my Savior’s love and knew that He would be with us in joy or in sorrow.
Some time later, I said good-bye to my family and entered the hospital for an indefinite stay. The babies’ heart rates were monitored constantly to make sure the babies were safe. It was difficult for me to see their heart rates drop, and I wondered if they would make it to the delivery goal of 34 weeks. At 25½ weeks, one baby’s heart rate dropped to a critical level, nearly stopping. The doctors decided that if his heart didn’t start beating normally, both babies would be delivered by emergency cesarean section within minutes. I panicked when I heard the nurse call my husband and tell him that I was being prepared for surgery and that the neonatal team was standing by.
I knew that to get through this trial, I needed Heavenly Father’s help. I prayed silently, pleading that our baby would recover, thus allowing both twins the much-needed time to develop in utero. I also prayed for comfort. Once again I felt peace, just as I had when I received the priesthood blessing. I didn’t know if our babies would live or die, but I knew that no matter what, if I turned to the Lord, He would help carry my burden. As it turned out, the baby’s heartbeat returned to normal, and surgery was no longer necessary.
My stay at the hospital continued for the next two months, and there were many times we worried about our babies’ fluctuating heart rates. But fortunately, neither of the twin’s heart rates dropped as low as before. Our sons, John and Jacob, were born at 33 weeks. Their cords were intertwined with eight knots, and John—the son whose heart rate had dropped so low—had his cord wrapped around his neck twice. Our twins stayed in the hospital’s intensive care unit so their body temperatures and breathing could be regulated. Despite the potential problems associated with premature births, John and Jacob were able to come home after only 19 days.
Our twins are now toddlers, and they have no negative effects from being born prematurely. I am grateful that what began as a trial became one of the greatest blessings of my life. I was given two healthy sons, and my testimony of the power of priesthood blessings and prayer was strengthened. I am also grateful to be able to recall the peace and love I felt in knowing that the Lord was aware of my situation. I learned then that, with the Lord’s help, we will have the strength to endure our trials.

Their marriage was hopeless, they told me. And now they were in the final stages of preparing for divorce.
They had received marriage counseling elsewhere. But it was of a purely secular nature, and their relationship was getting worse, not better. Instead of humbling themselves and changing their behavior, they had been focusing on trivial techniques—such as liking themselves better and becoming more self-assertive—which only further justified them in their destructive behavior.
These were good people. But they had become caught up in the behavior and attitudes of a competitive world—where forcing, criticizing, controlling, and commanding are often promoted as the way to gain influence. They were blaming one another for their problems and were trying to punish and intimidate each other into changing.
I was frank with them. I tried to help them see how self-righteous they were being and how accusing their hearts were. I explained that our problems as individuals and as couples are primarily spiritual—and that these problems begin when we fail to apply gospel principles. And I told them that since we have no direct control over the behavior of our partners, we need to focus on our own hearts.
After our first visit, this couple went to the temple together. In the celestial room, each quietly prayed that our Father in Heaven would reveal to them individually what they, themselves—not their partner—had been doing wrong. In his mercy, God opened the floodgates and gave them their answers. The revelation they received humbled them and softened their hearts. Since they hadn’t attended the temple for some time, even though they lived close by, they were amazed at how freely and clearly the answers came to them and how merciful our Heavenly Father really is.
Now they could start making progress. They began to shift their focus away from blaming each other and toward their own need for repentance. They began to see that striking back at each other is the world’s way—not the Lord’s. They recognized they had not read their scriptures or genuinely prayed on a regular basis—and now they could see that these were manifestations of pride.
Their hearts were broken over the fact that they were both so self-preoccupied and self-serving and that their conflicting self-interests were destroying any possibility for oneness. And they realized that their examples were adversely affecting their children.
It was thrilling to watch this couple humble themselves and find again the love they thought they had lost.