Gospel Story Finder

Several years ago I spoke at a meeting for members and investigators in the Peru Lima South Mission. I don’t know why I started talking about revelation and the importance of having a prophet, but as I did, I noticed two young men on the first row listening attentively and taking notes. After the meeting, those two young men came to me and said, “You talk about prophets and about revelation. We thought that there weren’t any prophets after John the Baptist.” The young men had been sent by the local priest to find out what I said. I had to catch a plane and didn’t have time to explain more about prophets and revelation. However, I did tell them that if they wanted to have personal revelation, they should read the Book of Mormon and follow the counsel in Moroni 10. I gave them each a Book of Mormon and marked Moroni 10:4–5 [Moro. 10:4–5]. Three months later I received a letter from those young men telling me that they had been baptized. One year later I received another letter saying that they were both preparing to go on missions. The Book of Mormon was what converted them.

Tamika curled up under the soft blanket and took a deep breath. The quilt smelled sweet, like the cherry lotion her grandma used. She loved that smell.
“Gram, I’m glad Mama and I came,” Tamika said.
Gram sat on the bed next to Tamika and stroked her hair. “I’m glad too. Do you want a bedtime story?”
Tamika nodded. “Tell me about when Grammy Rose escaped.” Tomorrow they were visiting a place where her great-grandma Rose might have stayed, and she wanted to hear the story again.
“Again?” Gram laughed. “All right. That’s one of my favorites too.” She leaned back and got comfortable.
“Your great-grandma Rose lived on a big farm called a plantation with her mama and daddy. They were slaves, and they wanted to be free,” Gram said. “One day, Rose’s mama died of a fever. Her daddy decided it was time to escape with Rose.”
Gram’s fingers traced lines along the quilt as she talked, like she was tracing a map of the journey.
“They left at night and followed the North Star. It’s part of a constellation called the Big Dipper,” Gram said. “Back then, slaves called it the Drinking Gourd.”
“What’s a gourd?” Tamika asked.
“It’s like a squash. Slaves would use hollowed-out gourds as spoons to scoop water from buckets to drink,” Gram said. “Rose and her daddy followed the Drinking Gourd north. People from the Underground Railroad helped them along the way.”
Tamika nodded. She knew that the Underground Railroad wasn’t really a railroad. It was a name for the people who helped slaves escape to safety. Tomorrow Tamika and her mom were going to a house called Slave Haven, where some of the slaves hid on their journey north.
“But we don’t know for sure if Grammy Rose stayed in Slave Haven,” Tamika said.
Gram looked thoughtful. “That’s right. Rose couldn’t write, so we don’t know the exact places she stayed,” Gram said. “But when I was a girl, Rose told me her story, and I wrote it in my journal.”
Tamika sat up. “Can I read what you wrote?”
Gram nodded. “We can look at it tomorrow—”
Just then, Mama came in to kiss Tamika goodnight.
“Are you two still talking about Grammy Rose?” Mama said. “Tomorrow you can explore secret passages and trap doors at Slave Haven. But right now, it’s time for bed.”
As Mama tucked the blankets around Tamika, Gram told her one more thing about Rose.
“Grammy Rose always said that miracles from God brought her safely north. That taught me to look for miracles every day,” Gram said. “Like warm sunshine.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Mama said, looking at Gram. “Or a beautiful smile.” She turned to Tamika. “Or the miracle of Tamika finally falling asleep!”
Tamika laughed. She had never thought about sunshine and smiles as miracles, but the world would be pretty dark and sad without them!
Tamika felt happy and warm thinking about how brave her great-great-grandma was. Just before Gram shut the door, an idea popped into Tamika’s head.
“Gram? Can I have a journal? I want to look for miracles and write them down too,” Tamika said.
“We’ll get you one tomorrow,” Gram said.
“I know what my miracle is today,” Tamika said.
“What?” asked Gram.
“It’s you,” Tamika said. “And Mama, and us coming to visit, and learning about Grammy Rose …” Tamika’s words became softer and softer until she finally fell asleep, curled up beneath the warm, sweet-smelling quilt.

While still serving in the Seattle mission, I received a phone call from my oldest son, Sunbeam, who is a pianist. He said he would have the privilege of performing at Carnegie Hall in New York because he won an international competition. We were so happy and very thrilled for him. However, that evening, while praying with gratitude, my wife recognized that we could not join him for his performance and said to Heavenly Father something like this: “Heavenly Father, I am grateful for the blessing Thou hast given to Sunbeam. By the way, I am sorry that I cannot go there. I could have gone if Thou had given this blessing either before or after this mission. I am not complaining, but I have a little feeling of sorry.”
As soon as she finished this prayer, she heard a clear voice: “Because you cannot go, your son has been given this privilege. Would you rather trade?”
My wife was surprised. She knew children would be blessed through their parents’ faithful work in the Lord’s kingdom, but it was the first time she understood her role with such clarity. She replied to Him right away: “No, no, it is OK for me not to go. Let him have that honor.”

“Before I tracked the time I spent, I thought it was going to be really hard to take time out and read the scriptures—but after realizing how much time I spent on social media, taking 10 minutes out of that felt super easy! I could read at lunch or right before seminary started.
“After I had read the scriptures, I was a lot more aware of what I looked at on social media. If I stumbled across something bad, with bad language or a negative message, I noticed it and tried to avoid it way more than before. I also noticed that my prayers were a lot more sincere and that I was receiving more answers to them. This is definitely something that I hope to continue for a lot longer!”
Izzie J., age 16, California, USA

Patience on the part of families and individuals being visited can also bring the Spirit into a home. “I have always done my visiting teaching, and I have always let my visiting teachers come visit me,” shares Lynda Stout, a member of the Lehi Third Ward, Lehi Utah West Stake. “But it wasn’t until Alene Hardee and Wanda Johnson became my visiting teachers that I learned why the Lord has inspired this program to watch over, bless, and teach his daughters.
“Sure, Sister Hardee and Sister Johnson brought treats for my children on the holidays and remembered my birthday. But the thing that impressed me the most was the way they read the Visiting Teaching Message to me every month. These sweet sisters were in their 70s, and sometimes it was hard for them to see the words, or sometimes they stumbled when they tried to pronounce a word. But I could tell by the diligent way in which they read each message that they took their responsibility in delivering the message as a very important assignment from the Lord.”
While some members may have been bothered to have had the monthly message simply read aloud, Sister Stout recognized the importance of accepting the gospel message in whatever form it came. Her humble acceptance of that message allowed her to feel the Spirit and the love of her visiting teachers.

—A pot-holdered-hand pulled a door down, an oven light went on, and a wonderful, sweet smell filled the room. Another concoction was complete to add to the menu of a tea the young women of the Ashington Branch, Sunderland England Stake, were preparing for senior citizens in their community.
Not only did the young women share food, but they also shared a program of songs, thoughts, and prayers. “We wanted to show them how much they are appreciated for all their hard work,” says Rachel Woodward.

Like Church members from Dresden, which was in the far southern part of the German Democratic Republic, members up north in Schwerin experienced great difficulty in finding a home for their branch. For ten years they moved from one rented room to another, then to one family’s living room. In 1956, they were able to purchase a piece of property—but had to do so in the name of the branch president because the Church could not own property. Members were not allowed to tear down a building on the property because it contained an apartment, but they were given permission to build on the remaining part of the land. They were also allowed to tear down an old army barracks eight kilometers outside the city to use as building materials.
Then, after they had hauled twenty-three truckloads of building materials to their site, they were refused permission to build! But after they had fasted and prayed, they were allowed to remodel an old horse barn on the property into a meetinghouse.
The remodeling project required more building materials, which were under strict government control. But members felt that they succeeded in obtaining these with the help of the Lord. (See Schutze, page 22.) On 5 January 1958, Henry Burckhardt, counselor to the president of the North German Mission, dedicated the former horse barn as a meeting place for the Schwerin Branch.
In 1973, the branch was given permission to expand the building, but this meant going through the difficult process of obtaining building materials all over again. A large quantity of building blocks was obtained through the aid of the building supervisor of the Evangelical Lutheran Church, who had come to appreciate the industriousness and integrity of the Latter-day Saints. Other building materials could be obtained only in small amounts, after members had stood in long lines to request them. Because work schedules prevented men in the branch from waiting in line, the branch president’s wife took responsibility for obtaining the materials—even though it meant she had to get them to the building site in a hand-pulled cart. (See Schutze, page 24.)

What do you do when you’re not quite 16, but you desperately want to attend a dance at your school? Several girls from the Bountiful, Utah, area came up with a solution that worked well—they invited their dads.
Anissa Johnson, Shauna Howard, Cindee Olsen, Jill Stauffer, and Shari Salmon all found unique ways to invite their fathers and planned a dinner together before the dance. In accordance with the dance’s tradition, the fathers and daughters all wore matching shirts.
“It was a little strange when we first got to the dance and there were all our friends,” said Shari. “But the strange feeling only lasted a few minutes, and I didn’t think about it anymore; I was having too much fun!”
Cindee summed up one of the reasons she and her friends had such a great time with their fathers. “I didn’t have to impress him,” she said. “I already knew he liked me.”

About six months after we were married my husband Boysie and I moved into a new ward in his hometown, Kaneohe. I was born and raised on Maui, majority of my immediate family lived there, more specifically, my mom. We had a great relationship, but it was long distance and the only way for me to communicate was to write letters. It was a hard and lonely time. We had no cell phones at that time. Calling long distance was expensive, especially for us as a young couple with just one income. I didn’t know my in-laws well, or the neighbors or the city. I was insecure and somewhat fearful of the unknown. My husband was working full time and my close friends were in the mainland attending college or lived on another island.

Heavenly Father knew that I needed the same thing as Sister Beck and he provided and angel in my life. Enter Sister Betty Poliahu, Kaneohe 2nd Ward Relief Society President. She is one of the sweetest and kindest women I’ve ever met in my life. She welcomed me into Relief Society with open arms, made me feel accepted and loved. She, along with the other sisters of that ward took me under their wing, taught, loved and nurtured me. They shared their wisdom and talents allowing me to develop my skills and I learned how to cook, to budget, to teach, to be a better wife and mother. I learned how valuable and essential Relief Society and that divine sisterhood was to developing and understanding my role as a beloved daughter of God. Those experiences with that wonderful, loving ward grounded me. I lived in Kaneohe II Ward for about seven precious years before moving to Kahuku. I feel that warmth and acceptance when I return there to attend church with my mother-in-law, Helene. I feel the bonding and feel that special connection every Tuesday, late afternoon when I see Sister Betty Poliahu at the temple. She’s leaving the day shift and I’m coming to work at the night shift. It feels so symbolic and natural to me as if that nurturing relationship continues, it didn’t skip a beat and I continue to be influenced by her spirit of goodness, service and dedication to the Lord. To all those wonderful Kaneohe Ward members, mahalo nui loa.

After Sister Teh and I dated a few times it became obvious that I wanted to spend eternity with her. Naturally, I have made it a subject of earnest prayer for many nights and also fasted a couple of times. There was no particular change in my feeling. I did not feel a burning in my bosom nor did I have goosebumps all over my body. I did, however, continue to feel good about my decision so I persevered. I am assuming that Sister Teh got the same answer so here we are. Many of my life's decisions after that experience and up to the present time, have been arrived at in a similar fashion.

"Verily, verily, I say unto you, if you desire a further witness, cast your mind upon the night that you cried unto me in your heart, that you might know concerning the truth of these things.
Did I not speak peace to your mind concerning the matter? What greater witness can you have than from God?"[7]

Tom Geffe wasn’t exactly “golden.” He called the missionaries names. He threw the Book of Mormon in the trash. He smoked. He drank. He swore.
All the more reason to love him. That was the attitude of his twin brother, Bill, and the members of the St. Peters Ward. Bill and Tom started the discussions at the same time. Tom dropped out but Bill got baptized.
“Bill would give me books and I wouldn’t read them,” Tom says now. “He would tell me he was learning about the priesthood, and I would think, Yeah, you’re crazy.”
Bill kept at it.
“I’d go to Church activities,” Tom says. “But I’d always be the rebel. I was just in it for the fun.”
Bill invited Tom to youth conference. Tom figured he’d skip the spiritual parts.
“But I ended up at this big testimony meeting. All of these kids were bearing their testimonies. One nonmember girl said she knew the Church was true and she was going to be baptized. Her testimony was so powerful I thought, Wow! I want to be a part of that!”
The change was immediate. Tom quit smoking, quit drinking, quit swearing. He started the discussions again, started reading the Book of Mormon. Tom discovered the gospel was setting him free. “I felt better about myself. I felt free to be the things I really wanted to be.”
The missionaries asked Tom to join the Church. He felt it was right, but wanted to be sure. They all prayed.
“I felt really warm inside, and a big smile came over my face,” Tom explains. “I knew I should be baptized.
“People who knew me before could not believe I was joining the Church,” Tom says. “But it was the best thing I ever did. It sticks with me every day, knowing Heavenly Father loves me.”
The story doesn’t end there. Bill, who was a year ahead in school, is serving in the Texas Houston East Mission. He relies a lot on Tom’s letters of encouragement. “He tells me the same things I used to tell him,” Bill says. “Keep on trying, even when it’s hard. Stay strong.
“I don’t know if I have more I-want-to-go-home days than other missionaries,” Bill says. “But when I have one I’ll reread a letter, or look at Tom’s picture, and think how we’ve been able to help each other. It gives me courage to go on.”
Tom also plans on a mission.

Photograph courtesy of the author
For a hobby, I took up beekeeping. Soon, people started asking me if they could buy some of my honey.
After selling a little honey, I thought about paying tithing on my “interest” (Doctrine and Covenants 119:4). I really didn’t think of the money I earned, however, as an increase. I spent a lot more on beekeeping equipment than I made selling honey.
But I remembered that tithes are holy to the Lord. As members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we honor Him by paying tithing. Paying tithing is an expression of our faith in God and His promises.
I remembered that those who pay tithing receive this promise from the Lord: “Prove me now herewith, saith the Lord of hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive it” (Malachi 3:10).
I accepted the Lord’s challenge and paid tithing on my honey sales. On the tithing slips, I wrote, “From honey money.”
A short while later, a friend came to my house and said he knew someone whose beekeeping husband had passed away. The widowed wife wanted to get rid of all her husband’s beekeeping equipment and was thinking of throwing it away. Instead, my friend took me to pick up the equipment.
All the beekeeping equipment I had ever wanted and wished for—and more—was there, including all kinds of honey-extracting equipment.
Nobody gives away beekeeping equipment. But within a week after I made the choice to pay tithing, Heavenly Father opened the windows of heaven and rewarded me. I believe chance had nothing to do with it. I have a testimony that Heavenly Father knows me and my desires. My testimony of the importance of paying tithing has certainly grown.

While the Saints with Brigham were leaving Sugar Creek, forty-three-year-old Louisa Pratt remained in Nauvoo, preparing to leave the city with her four young daughters. Three years earlier, the Lord had called her husband, Addison, on a mission to the Pacific Islands. Since then, unreliable mail service between Nauvoo and Tubuai, the island in French Polynesia where Addison was serving, had made it hard to stay in contact with him. Most of his letters were several months old when they arrived, and some were older than a year.

Addison’s latest letter made it clear that he would not be home in time to go west with her. The Twelve had instructed him to remain in the Pacific Islands until they called him home or sent missionaries to replace him. At one point, Brigham had hoped to send more missionaries to the islands after the Saints received the endowment, but the exodus from Nauvoo had postponed that plan.9

Louisa was willing to make the journey without her husband, but thinking about it made her nervous. She hated to leave Nauvoo and the temple and did not relish the idea of traveling by wagon over the Rocky Mountains. She also wanted to see her aging parents in Canada—possibly for the last time—before going west.

If she sold her ox team, she could get enough money to visit her parents and book passage for her family on a ship bound for the California coast, thus avoiding overland travel altogether.

Louisa had almost made up her mind to go to Canada, but something did not feel right. She decided to write to Brigham Young about her concerns with overland travel and her desire to see her parents.

“If you say the ox team expedition is the best way for salvation, then I shall engage in it heart and hand,” she wrote, “and I believe I can stand it as long without grumbling as any other woman.”10

A short time later, a messenger arrived with Brigham’s response. “Come on. The ox team salvation is the safest way,” he told her. “Brother Pratt will meet us in the wilderness where we locate, and he will be sorely disappointed if his family is not with us.”

Louisa considered the counsel, steeled her heart against the difficult trail ahead, and decided to follow the main body of the Saints, come life or death.11

Kacey doesn’t remember the accident that took his legs and changed his life. He remembers attending a sacrament meeting as a six-year-old with his cousins in rural Utah. He remembers waiting to cross the highway between the church and his grandmother’s house. And he remembers waking up in the hospital—without his legs.
His parents, on the other hand, probably wish they could forget. As they waited for an 18-wheeler to pass so the family could cross, Kacey suddenly darted into the highway to catch up with his brother, who had crossed moments earlier. Kacey almost made it.
“He shouldn’t have lived,” says Julene McCallister, Kacey’s mom.
“He had zero blood pressure,” his father, Bernie, says. “He lost massive amounts of blood.”
But then the miracles began. Amazingly, local paramedics had recently learned emergency procedures for treating critically injured children. And despite stormy December weather, Kacey made it—first by plane, then by helicopter—to one of the top children’s hospitals in the nation, where the medical staff was able to save him.
“It’s most definitely a miracle, a modern miracle,” says Brother McCallister.
“There’s some purpose Heavenly Father has him here for,” Sister McCallister says. “In the hospital, the Holy Ghost told me, ‘Sit back and watch Heavenly Father work.’ We’ve been watching the miracles ever since.”

“I saw the funniest show yesterday. You should check it out. Then maybe we could watch it together sometime!” Brooke said.
Camille loved chatting with her best friend while they walked home from school together. She loved how much they had in common.
“Sounds great!” Camille waved goodbye and walked in her front door.
After Camille finished her homework, she turned on the TV and found the right show. It would be so fun to talk about it with Brooke tomorrow!
The show was funny. The characters did silly things and told jokes. Camille laughed a lot. But not everything they said was funny. They said some words that made Camille feel like there were frogs hopping in her stomach. They weren’t good words.
What should I do? she wondered. Camille knew these words were not nice. But she wanted to know how the show ended. What would she say if Brooke asked her about it tomorrow?
With a sigh, Camille turned off the TV.
After Mom got home, Camille helped her set the table for dinner. “How was school?” Mom asked.
Camille put out the forks and spoons. “It was really good! Except … Brooke told me about a show to watch. I started watching it, but it had bad words in it. I didn’t feel good about it, so I turned it off.”
“It sounds like you made a very good choice.”
“But Brooke wants to watch it together. We’re best friends! We like the same music, the same ice cream, the same books …”
Mom set a dish of pasta on the table. “True, but that doesn’t mean you have to do all of the same things. Especially if it’s something you don’t feel good about. It’s OK to make different choices than a friend does.”
“What do you mean?” Camille asked.
“Well, we choose to avoid bad words so that we can feel the Holy Ghost,” Mom explained. “But not everyone has the same standards as we do. That doesn’t make them bad people.”
Camille was still worried about what would happen when Brooke asked her about the show. They talked about everything! What if Brooke thought she was being a baby? Or worse, what if she didn’t want to be friends anymore?
Camille said a prayer before going to sleep. Heavenly Father, please help me talk to Brooke tomorrow. Please help me be brave. Camille climbed into bed and hoped that things would be OK at school.
“Camille!” Brooke yelled across the playground. She ran through the grass to meet Camille. “What’d you think of the show? Wasn’t it funny?”
Camille took a deep breath. “I actually didn’t watch much of it.”
Brooke looked confused. “Why not?”
Camille thought for a second. Should she just say she’d been busy? What was Brooke going to say? “Well … I didn’t watch it because they said words I didn’t like. I didn’t feel good watching it.”
“Oh,” Brooke said quietly. Then she said, “That’s OK. We don’t have to watch it together. We can find a show we both like or do something else together.”
“OK.” Camille smiled. Then the two friends walked to class together, talking and laughing the whole time.
You can choose the right even if others don’t. Heavenly Father will help you be strong.

A friend of mine was very sick at one time. She was home alone when someone knocked at her door. She didn’t feel like getting up, but the knocking continued. Then she realized that it might be her visiting teachers. She knew they had set a goal for 100 percent; it was near the end of the month, and they hadn’t come yet.

When she saw that it was indeed her visiting teachers, she began to feel hopeful. She had a lot of undone work around her apartment. Perhaps, she thought, they might see how sick she was and offer to help. When they saw her and asked if she was all right, her hopes increased. “I’ve been so sick,” she said. “Well,” they replied, “we’ll just give you a quick lesson so you can get back to bed.”

They gave her the lesson, left, and got “credit” for their visit. My friend went back to bed and wept. She thought of times when she, too, had missed opportunities to serve because she was not as sensitive as she could have been.

One week, I decided to declare a holiday from practicing the piano. My piano teacher did not authorize this holiday and neither did my mom. For a full week I didn’t practice. I thought it was great because I had a good time relaxing and doing other things.
The fun stopped on Thursday night, when my mom reminded me that my piano lesson was the next morning. I thought I had a solution: I woke up an hour earlier and started to practice. But I realized that my efforts were too little, too late. I had enjoyed the freedom to choose, but I hadn’t considered the consequences.
The next morning when I met with my teacher, the consequences started to unfold. I had to admit that I hadn’t practiced, and my teacher told me I should make up all the practice time I missed, in addition to my regular practice time.
I am grateful for the lessons I learned about agency, responsibility, and accountability. Every choice has a consequence, and I learned that I will make better decisions if I take time to consider the consequences first.
Blake H., Utah, USA

Shortly after my father began walking again, I received a letter from my mother. She had returned to Japan and was working in a factory in the city of Fukui. “Come to Japan,” she wrote. “I can get you a job.” I became excited about living in the land of my ancestors and decided to go.
When I arrived in 1992, I was intrigued by the technology and other conveniences available in the country. But I also faced many new challenges. I had a job, and although I looked Japanese, I couldn’t speak Japanese. I struggled to learn the language. My coworkers were not always patient with me.
Despite my Christian background, I had never attended church nor read the Bible regularly. But now, as I faced these obstacles, I remembered how my father’s faith had given him strength. My thoughts turned increasingly to God.
One day I was walking in downtown Fukui when two young men walked up to me. One of them didn’t look Japanese, but he spoke Japanese when he introduced himself.
I said, “I’m sorry, but I don’t speak Japanese. Do you speak English?”
He answered, “Of course! I’m American!”
The young man started speaking English, which I had learned in school. He told me he and his companion were missionaries for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. They talked briefly about Jesus Christ and invited me to church. I hesitated but finally agreed to go.
The first meeting I attended was a fast and testimony meeting. I came late, and as I walked into the chapel, a young woman was crying and talking about how the gospel helped her with her problems. After listening to her and to some of the other members, I realized that all of them had problems. They weren’t perfect, and they knew it. But I could also see they had something strong inside them. Their faith in God was helping them. With that kind of faith, I thought, maybe I could overcome my problems, too.
I continued attending church, and I pondered often what I learned there. I also read the Book of Mormon. One day I accepted the invitation to ask God if what I was learning was true. As I prayed, something strong touched my heart, and I thought, This is the right way. I already believe in God. It’s time to follow Him.
As I continued to pray and attend meetings, the Spirit continued to guide me. Finally I told the elders I wanted to hear the discussions. I wanted to follow God and return to His presence one day. I was baptized on 21 June 1993.
As a member of the Church, I found new strength in meeting the challenges of life in Japan. And after preparing earnestly, I was called on a mission. To my surprise, I was called to serve in São Paulo, Brazil. I was very excited about sharing the gospel in my homeland.
When I look back at my old life, I realize how blind I was. We can go through life the right way or the wrong way. At first I chose the wrong way. I knew God existed, but I wasn’t ready to follow Him. Then the gospel touched my life. Now I know that following our Savior is the only way to true happiness.

After our missions, while here at BYU, my wife, Brooke, and I started seriously dating. As we discussed the possibility of marriage one night, she asked me an unexpected question.

She said something like, “Would you be open to adopting a child at some point after we have some of our own kids?”

While this was certainly a major question, at this time I was so smitten with Brooke that she could have asked me almost anything and I would have said, “Absolutely—sounds great to me!”

And that is exactly how I answered her question.

Well, fast-forward twelve years and four kids later, I found out she was actually serious. That is when she brought back up for discussion the question I had long forgotten. As she did so, my response this time was quite different. I found myself instantly cogitating on all the reasons adopting a child would not make sense. I won’t go through the list that entered my mind, but one of the primary reasons is demonstrated by this picture. [A photo of the Hafen family of six was shown.]

At this point we were already a family of six with four wonderful children. In the subsequent weeks as the discussions continued, I found myself searching for and sharing a variety of reasons with Brooke on why we should not pursue adoption.

We all have hindsight, insight, and foresight. In hindsight, I realize my insight and foresight at that time were severely lacking! Gratefully, Brooke’s strong impression compensated for my weakness, and she continued to nudge me to discover my own answer on adoption. So I spent several weeks doing research, writing down my thoughts, and praying. Over time, I became frustrated that I was not finding a clear answer. After an additional conversation, Brooke and I thus agreed to fast and attend the temple with this exclusive purpose.

As Brooke and I prepared to go to the temple for an answer, I recall kneeling in prayer. But rather than just asking Heavenly Father to bless me with an answer, this time I focused much of my prayer on a contemplative and exhaustive acknowledgment of my weaknesses. While I didn’t believe I had made major mistakes that would have prevented personal revelation, I remember a desire to be more humble and thorough in my quest for forgiveness this time.

My experience in the temple was uplifting, as it always is, but I felt slight disappointment as I was preparing to leave without the distinct answer I was seeking. I exited the dressing room and went to the lobby to wait for Brooke. After I had been waiting a few minutes, a couple from one of our early BYU married student wards who I hadn’t seen in nearly ten years walked into the lobby.

After exchanging some pleasantries, I asked them what was new in their lives. Their response surprised me: they shared that after having had four children, they had recently adopted a child.

As you might assume, this was exciting news to me! I asked them several detailed questions about their adoption experience. It was abundantly clear that they already viewed the adoption as a huge blessing to their family. As they were leaving, I sat back down, contemplating what they had just shared.

And then it happened! I was flooded with a spirit so undeniably strong that I will never forget it. With tears welling up, I felt these words enter my mind: “This is your answer. Move forward with adoption.”

While I haven’t had many experiences in my life that were this dramatic, I have had many times in which questions have been answered or decisions were simplified through revelation. And I am so grateful for this experience and testify that it came because of the purifying power of the Atonement of Jesus Christ.

Each year there are new examples of coincidences—I call them miracles—that further our ties and our friendship with China and its people. I will give only one example, this from 1990.

Exactly a year ago this month, Elder and Sister William L. Taylor, missionaries laboring in the Ireland Dublin Mission, received an invitation to go to China as the guests of the Chinese People’s Association for Friendship with Foreign Countries. They were invited because of something that happened in China forty-five years earlier. High-ranking Chinese officials learned about them through the father of a Chinese woman Elder and Sister Taylor had met in Ireland. When the mission president told me the circumstances, I approved their leaving the mission field to accept this invitation. I cautioned them that out of respect for China’s laws, they should not go to China as missionaries, but as friends who would simply seek to increase understanding between our peoples.

William Taylor was working on Wake Island as a civilian contractor in 1941. In the initial weeks of World War II, he was taken prisoner by the Japanese. He spent three and a half years in a Japanese prison camp near Shanghai, China. In May 1945, he escaped while being transferred north toward Beijing by train. Eluding his pursuers and suffering many hardships as he made his way across China, Brother Taylor eventually found his way to the Communist-led Eighth Route Army. After about two months with these friendly forces, he was taken to Yenan. There, Brother Taylor met Mao Ze-dong, who told him that he was the only foreign prisoner of war who had ever made a successful escape in North China. The two had their photograph taken together.

Forty-five years later that photograph, shown to a Chinese contact in Ireland, produced the invitation that took Elder and Sister Taylor to China. In China they were entertained for seventeen days in Shanghai, Chongqing, Xi’an, Yenan, and Beijing, where they were hosted at a banquet in the Great Hall of the People. There they met a distinguished Chinese leader who had been foreign minister of China. Through that contact by a faithful Latter-day Saint man, Church leaders have been able to meet with this high-ranking man and further the ties of friendship between our church and the People’s Republic of China.

As a footnote to this remarkable account, I should add that the story of William Taylor’s meeting with Mao Ze-dong is probably the first story ever featured in both our Church News (7 July 1990, p. 6) and in the Chinese government’s Beijing Review (28 January 1991, p. 33). I hope it will not be the last.