Gospel Story Finder

Sixteen-year-old Kimberli Lingard left for work one afternoon last summer, having no idea that in a few hours she’d come face-to-face with a killer and be shot twice and left for dead. After what should have been a fatal event, a series of miracles occurred, and now Kim is living proof of God’s blessings in her life.
Kim worked at a laundromat in Grantsville, Utah, a tiny town where everyone knows everyone, and few people lock their doors. The town is located near a major freeway, and in early June 2004, an angry gunman on the run from the police pulled off the freeway into this quiet town. He looked around at local shops for an easy place to rob until he found the laundromat where Kim was working alone.
The man took what little money was in the cash register, shot Kim in the head and shoulder, and fled. With Kim lying on the floor and losing blood fast, time was precious. A woman—only the second customer to come in during Kim’s shift—entered just minutes after the shooting to discover Kim lying in a pool of blood. The woman raced to a nearby restaurant and called the police.
Uncertain if the shooter had left the premises, a brave man from the restaurant rushed to find another priesthood holder, and they gave Kim a blessing. Kim was soon flown to a hospital and immediately underwent seven hours of surgery to remove bullet fragments from her brain.
Kim can’t remember any of this. The last thing she remembers was being alone at work. But her family has a clear recollection of everything after the shooting. They remember turning immediately to the Lord. Her younger sister Rachel says, “I was really scared. I came downstairs and knelt down beside the couch and said a prayer that she’d be okay.”
The 45-minute drive to the hospital was tense, but her little sister Jenessa says, “I just sat there praying the whole time.”
Kim’s friends at school started calling other friends to ask them to fast and pray for their dear friend.
Many hours and prayers later, Kim was stabilized. Three days after being shot, she woke up in the hospital to see her older sister Nicole leaning over her with a tear-stained face. Kim wanted to know what was wrong but couldn’t ask. Her vocal chords had been partially paralyzed from the shooting. Kim couldn’t talk, eat, walk, blink, or smile.
She couldn’t move her right arm or hand, and the doctors weren’t hopeful that she would ever fully recover from her wounds.
Even with Kim’s future uncertain, her family drew comfort from the Holy Ghost and remained positive. The Lingards say there was a special feeling in Kim’s hospital room throughout her stay. Her youngest sister Kristin explained: “When I came into Kim’s room, I didn’t want to go because I felt the Holy Ghost so strongly that I wanted to be in the room more.” This feeling helped the family to be calm and hopeful.
Kim wanted more than anything to be able to play the piano again and wrote a note asking the doctors if it would be possible. She says, “They just got this look in their eyes. They wanted to say yes, but they couldn’t. And from then on, I wanted to prove them wrong. I was going to get well.”
She received another priesthood blessing that she would heal quickly, and with faith and hard work, Kim made astonishing progress.
Kim’s family stayed by her bedside for weeks while she was in the hospital. Every day, her sisters would massage her hands so the nerves might begin to work again. And Kim worked hard to exercise her hand.
Eventually Kim’s voice came back, and she regained movement in her face. Then one day her family came in and found her moving her fingers—something the doctors never expected to see. Kim’s stepmom, Karen, says, “Every day seemed like a week’s worth of recovery. You’d see her the next day, and she’d be doing something they said she may not ever be able to do.”
Kim’s condition improved at a remarkable rate, and she became eager to leave the hospital. Just over three weeks after the shooting, she went home—in time for her 17th birthday. The only obvious change in her appearance was that her hair was shaved short from the surgery.
Still, Kim faced weeks of voice and hand therapy. Although her rehabilitation was difficult and painful, she didn’t complain. Her father, Craig, says, “Her testimony is stronger because she sees how her Heavenly Father has blessed her.”
Kim’s family are no strangers to loss. Her mother died of lung cancer only three years earlier, leaving behind a family of 11 children. And now this challenge. But Kim doesn’t feel the need to ask questions. She simply says, “The Lord knows a lot more than we know.”
The Lingards count their blessings. Brother Lingard says, “I knew that if the Lord preserved her life, we could live with whatever else we had to live with.” Kim’s family was calm as they relied on the Lord for strength.
Kim says, “I think about how the Lord hears our prayers. I know that the Lord knew I could do this. I know that He lives and that He’ll help me, and I’m so glad it was me and not someone else.”
Kim’s testimony left her with a good attitude and peace throughout her struggle. And because of that, Kim says, “I was able to forgive the shooter. I know that he is a son of God, too. He made serious mistakes in his life, and I feel sorry for him.”
From the looks of the half-inch round scar the bullet left on the back of her neck, it seems impossible that anyone could live through such an injury. But these days Kim is driving, painting, playing the piano, and laughing with her sisters. Kim has several lasting effects from the shooting, including weakness in her right arm, no right jaw socket, and total deafness in her right ear.
“The doctors didn’t know if I would ever be able to live a normal life.” But Kim was at school the first day of her senior year, just 11 weeks after the shooting. She graduated with her senior class and is now a freshman at Brigham Young University—Idaho.
Kim has few regrets about what happened. “It just amazes me how aware the Lord is of us. The Lord knows all things. We just need to learn to trust in Him. There are good days and bad days, but He is there for us when we need Him.”

During my stay at the MTC, my parents went on vacation. When they returned home, my mom wrote a letter to me. Most of the letter described their trip home. As they were driving, they passed two teenagers standing by a car on the side of the highway. Dad immediately turned around and went back to see if they needed help. He recognized the problem quickly. They had a flat, and a regular lug wrench would not fit the car’s custom wheels. Dad pulled a spark plug wrench out of his trunk and solved the problem.
But he didn’t stop at that. He discovered that two of the car’s passengers had walked to the nearest town to find help, and that neither of the teenagers who were left behind knew how to drive the car, which had a manual transmission. So Dad drove them into the town and helped them find their friends.
After showing them how to repair their next flat tire, Dad and Mom went on their way without accepting any kind of compensation.
I was not surprised to read about Dad’s kind act. He did, and still does, that kind of thing all the time. As I tried to finish reading the letter, tears blurred my vision. I began to understand that the Lord had blessed my family in ways I had always chosen to ignore. Perhaps Dad didn’t perform all the outward actions of an “active” Latter-day Saint, but long ago he had been converted to many core principles of the gospel of Jesus Christ. It was through his example that I learned about true service, charity, and love. I realized that while I was preaching the gospel in a strange place, my dad would quietly live it at home.

At the beginning of my mission, I served in a small city in South Korea. One rainy day we had not had a lot of success but wanted to keep working until it was time to go home. My companion and I decided that we would knock on a few more doors.
At one door a woman answered, and my companion started talking to her. As a new missionary, I had a hard time understanding, but after a few minutes she began speaking to us in English. We found out that she was from Chicago, Illinois, USA, and had moved here with her family. Her husband was a preacher for a church that did not have friendly feelings toward our beliefs.
The woman was nice but eager to disprove the Book of Mormon and convince us that our church was incorrect. I stood there with my companion as he tried to answer her difficult questions. My companion tried to testify to her that the Book of Mormon is true and that it could help her, but she insisted on believing that he was incorrect.
After about 30 minutes of discussion at the door, she asked my companion, “Where will we go after this life?” I could tell she was eager to refute my companion’s teachings, as she had before. My companion testified of the plan of salvation and that we can live with our families forever in the celestial kingdom. Before he could continue, she stopped him and asked him to repeat what he had just said about families being together. He again replied with the same response. I felt the Spirit so strongly, and I could see in her eyes that something had touched her deeply too. After that short but powerful testimony, she stopped arguing with us, took a Book of Mormon, and asked us to come back to talk with her and her husband about the Book of Mormon.
I remember walking home with my companion that evening, amazed by the effect of my companion’s testimony. I understood then that a testimony accompanied by the Spirit is the most powerful teaching tool we have. I’ll never forget my companion and his testimony that night. After that experience I decided that, even with my limited ability to speak Korean, I would try to bear my testimony no matter what. As I did, I began to feel the Spirit more and more. I learned that the best communication happens when you teach by the Spirit.

I learned once upon a time to fly airplanes. The instructor was flying straight and level. On the horizon was a range of mountains. Then he did something like this [demonstration of snap roll and spin] and I saw the mountain rise up and stand on end. It turned upside down and then continued to its normal position. He put the plane into a spin, and as we were falling and gyrating, I looked below and saw the whole earth turning as if it were a huge wheel. The vision was vivid. It looked so real. I have performed these maneuvers many times since: the snap roll and the spin. If I were to do them today, I could no longer make the mountain turn over or the earth gyrate. Why? Because experience has taught me reality, and now I cannot be deceived.

Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer aren’t the only active boys to come from Hannibal, Missouri. There are also Paul (10) and Jimmy (6) Stork. But Jimmy and Paul do like to keep those two famous boys in mind. Every Fourth of July they celebrate Tom Sawyer Day. This year, Paul will dress as Mark Twain and be in the fence-painting contest. Jimmy is going to catch and train a frog to jump so he can enter the frog-jumping contest. He’ll dress as Tom Sawyer for that.
Jimmy has a green thumb. He loves to garden. Every time his father, Dan, goes out to work in the garden, Jimmy’s right there. He has his own pumpkin patch that he weeds every day. When the first frost turns the pumpkins orange, Jimmy shares them with his neighbors.
Paul loves to play basketball and soccer, and he’s a whiz on computers. When his school first got computers, he helped some of the teachers learn how to use them.
One of the boys’ favorite activities is fishing down by the dam on the Mississippi River. They always have a contest with their parents to see who can catch the first fish, the biggest fish, and the most fish.
But the one contest they both hope to win is more serious—Paul’s fight with diabetes, a condition that can make you very ill if you eat the wrong things or don’t eat the right things.
Four years ago the doctors discovered Paul’s illness. At first, he was really angry about being diabetic, and he wanted to eat everything all the other kids were eating. But one time he went to his doctor and his blood sugar was really high—he hadn’t been eating right. The doctor sent the family to a specialist, saying, “If you don’t take care of Paul and keep him in control, he won’t live to be twenty.” That really upset them. The specialist helped the family learn what they needed to do to keep Paul healthy. Now he does everything he’s supposed to do. He even tests his own blood and gives himself three insulin shots each day to make certain that his blood sugar level stays normal.
About the same time that Paul found out he was diabetic, his father, also a diabetic, started having serious health problems because he wasn’t taking care of himself. One day Paul was with him when he had a seizure, and Paul had to call 911 for help. Dan realized then that he had to set an example for his son.
Paul also helps his father stay in control. Together, and with the help and support of Mom and Jimmy, they know it’s a battle they can win. It makes it easier that Mom, Carol, is a great cook who fixes all the right things for them to eat, and that there is sugar-free ice cream to celebrate special occasions with.
Jimmy tries to help his brother too. It was really hard for him the first time he saw Paul have a seizure, but now he knows what to look for and what to do if it happens. Still, he prays every day that Paul will be OK. His first words each morning are, “Where’s Paul?” He looks up to Paul and wants to go everywhere with him. Sometimes it drives Paul crazy, but he loves his brother and realizes that he needs to do what’s right because Jimmy is learning from him.
Paul and Jimmy love to visit their Grandma and Grandpa Stork, who live in Quincy, Illinois, a few miles away on the other side of the Mississippi River. When the river flooded last year, the only way the boys could go see their grandparents was by ferry or airplane because all the bridges across the river were washed out.
When the flooding started, their parents told the boys that they were all going sandbagging. Jimmy and Paul moaned and groaned all day. But after their parents explained to them why they were doing it—to save people’s homes and businesses—the boys were anxious every morning to get to work. Each day for two weeks, they went sandbagging with their mom from 10:30 A.M. until 3:30 P.M., when they’d go home to eat. When their dad got home from work, they all went again from 5 P.M. until about 9 P.M. They were very grateful to the Red Cross, who brought food and water so that they could stay on the job.
One day a ward member’s house was in danger of being flooded, so they helped move all the furniture and other things. It took until midnight, but they got everything out of the house before the water flooded it.
Paul and Jimmy’s favorite song is “Nephi’s Courage.” Both boys seem to have applied the example of that great prophet to their own lives: They try to have the courage to do what is right, to be obedient to the commandments, and to serve others. Their family is reading the Book of Mormon together every night. Both boys want to serve missions. “They’ll be the first missionaries from either Dan’s or my family,” said their mother. “It’s going to be neat!” It already is.

It was my first and only Christmas in the Illinois Chicago (Spanish-speaking) Mission, and I saw that one of our investigators was alone and would have no presents. His name was Tito Portillo. He’d been a Catholic missionary in Mexico, and he was really struggling with accepting the Book of Mormon. We decided to give him a triple combination as a gift.
As we entered his home on Christmas Eve, there was a terrible feeling of loneliness. He was having a hard time being in the United States since his family was in Mexico. But when we gave him the gift, his whole attitude changed. He smiled and we knew he was grateful.
After only a few weeks, he was able to quote scriptures from the Book of Mormon, just as he did from the Bible. He was eventually baptized, and is now serving as a stake missionary, sharing the Book of Mormon with others.
I’m so fortunate to have been there to see the change the Book of Mormon made in his life. What a great gift to each of us from the Lord.
—Debra MaylinEagle, Idaho

Ethan gazed at the colorful video game covers that lined the shelves. His parents said he could pick one game for a birthday present, and there were so many to choose from! Ethan’s eyes jumped from a car racing game to an adventure game to a dance game. Finally, he picked up the racing game and took it to his dad.
“Did you find one you like?” Dad asked.
“I think I want this racing game,” Ethan said.
“Looks fun,” Dad said. “What is it rated?”
Ethan turned the cover over. He knew he could only play games with certain ratings. When he first got his computer, his parents talked to him about the importance of following their family’s rule about video game ratings. Ethan knew that a lot of games had bad stuff in them, and he wanted to be obedient.
Ethan found the rating on the cover and showed Dad. “It’s rated for everyone,” he said.
“Great,” Dad said. “Let’s go pay for it. Happy birthday, Ethan!”
“Thanks, Dad!” Ethan grinned, excited to get home and try out his new game.
A few days later, Ethan went to his friend Chase’s house to play. He and Chase were in the same Primary class, and they played together a lot. Ethan took along his new video game.
“Hi, Ethan,” Chase said when he answered the door. “Come on in. I got a new video game we can play!”
“I did too!” Ethan said, holding out his game.
The boys settled in front of the computer, and Chase put in his game. The title flashed across the screen, and so did the rating. Ethan froze. It was a rating that he wasn’t allowed to play.
Chase eagerly navigated through the menus with his controller and started the game. Ethan didn’t see anything bad yet. He clicked his own controller to move his character in the game. It was fun, but the longer he played, the more uncomfortable he felt. He still hadn’t seen anything bad, but he wanted to follow his family’s rule.
“Hey, Chase, I’m not allowed to play games with this rating,” Ethan spoke up.
“Oh, it’s OK,” Chase said. “There isn’t anything bad in it.”
“Are you sure?” Ethan asked.
“Yeah,” Chase said. “My family plays it. I think it was given the wrong rating.”
Just then, Chase’s mom stuck her head into the room. “Hi, boys,” she said. “Is everything OK?”
Ethan swallowed hard. “Hi, Sister Murphy,” he said. “It’s just that I’m not allowed to play video games with this rating.”
“I told him there wasn’t anything bad in it,” Chase said.
Chase’s mom waved her hand. “Don’t worry, Ethan,” she said. “I know a lot of the games with that rating aren’t good, but I’m sure your mom would let you play this one.” She smiled and then left the room.
Chase continued playing, but Ethan put down his controller. “Chase, how about we play the racing game I brought?” Ethan asked.
Chase shrugged and kept staring at the screen. “Nah, I’d rather play this.”
Ethan quietly got up and went to Chase’s room, where he found some toy racing cars to play with. They weren’t as fun as his video game, but Ethan felt good knowing he was following his family’s rule.

I love sparkly things. I always have. I love how sparkles capture and reflect light, and I think that’s why I love crystal chandeliers so much. I especially love the crystal chandeliers in the temple.
I remember reverently walking through a temple open house with my family when I was only nine years old. I’ll never forget standing under the chandeliers in the celestial room in absolute awe. I couldn’t believe how beautiful, clean, and white everything was.
When we walked out of the temple, my grandpa told me he had a gift for me. My eyes grew bigger as my grandpa pulled a sparkly necklace from his pocket. It was a long chain with a small, single crystal on the end—just like the ones in the temple.
“I made this for you,” my grandpa said as he tied the necklace around my neck. My grandpa is an electrician. He sells all kinds of beautiful light fixtures. He told me he made the necklace with an extra crystal from his shop and he wanted me to wear it so it would remind me of the temple.
He asked me to promise I would go to the temple someday, and he bore his testimony of how the temple had blessed his life and how it can bless everyone’s lives. Every time I wore my crystal necklace I would think of the temple and how I wanted to go inside. I always remembered that promise I made to my grandpa.
When I was finally old enough to go do baptisms at the temple, I loved every chance I got to go. In the temple, I have always felt connected to my Heavenly Father. And I will never forget the feeling I had after receiving my endowment. After that sacred experience, I walked into the celestial room and hugged my grandpa under the beautiful crystal chandelier.
My grandpa was right about how the temple can bless our lives. It has continued to bless me my entire life because it helps me remember my purpose here on earth.

I was in the ninth grade. School and mathematics had always been easy for me. But at the end of the first term, I was getting a C in algebra. And to make matters worse, I still didn’t have any idea what it was all about.
With tears of frustration, I sought out my father and blubbered out my problem. He quietly and patiently said, “Let’s see if we can’t figure this out.” Even though he had never taken algebra as a boy, I felt confident he could help me. He did, explaining it so logically that I received A’s the rest of the term.
But he taught me another great lesson, too. “You have a good head on your shoulders,” he would say. “You’ll figure this out.” He let me know that he was certain, even if I wasn’t, that I could master anything I put my mind to if I didn’t allow my emotions to get in the way.

I would also like to share my own experience with this principle and hope that my experience may relate to some of you and give you some insight as well. You will notice a theme from me as my next example is also about baseball. When I was younger, there were a few instances that I remember where I had a goal, a vision, if you will, of what I wanted to accomplish. This goal or vision served as a guide for me to keep me focused on the path that would lead me to my end goal. That goal was to become a college and professional baseball player. This “end in mind” was the motivation I utilized to guide my daily decisions and commitment to becoming a skilled and higher-level baseball player. I knew that each day I needed to train, get reps, work with coaches, and maintain my physical condition in order to reach the end I had in mind.

Knowing what I wanted to accomplish made it easier for me to take the necessary steps and do the necessary work to achieve my end goals in baseball. Through daily routines focused on my growth as a baseball player, I was able to have a successful high school baseball career, which led me to play baseball at BYU in Provo, and eventually play in the Colorado Rockies Farm system. Now this is where things get choppy. Although I played in the minor leagues, I never made it to the major leagues, but I was still able to achieve the end in mind. You might be asking yourself, ‘How is that?’ when I didn’t get to the Big Leagues. Let me explain. When we begin with the end in mind, we have a vision, and we set goals, and we work toward that vision. What happens in between is where the real growth and progression happens. Our paths may not be perfect or straight, and we will need to pivot or adapt. After four years of professional baseball, I felt I was needed for something bigger, my eternal family. So, I decided to hang it up and focus on my eternal end in mind—my eternal family. Ending my baseball career was my choice, and quitting baseball did not ultimately change the end I had in mind, in fact it fostered it. Although my worldly end in mind was to make it to the Big Leagues my eternal end in mind has always been the eternities with my family. And for me, I needed to prioritize that. This shift in career paths was a natural one, and one that my years of baseball prepared me for. Years of hard work and commitment to my baseball career gave me the soft skills I needed to complete college and change my career path.

During my athletic journey, I developed skills including hard work, mental toughness, determination, grit, teamwork, leadership, communication, and patience. Through baseball, I learned to do hard things and to face challenges with determination. These skills are crucial for success on the field and translated well to various professional environments. For me, they translated into an ability to complete college and to earn a bachelor’s and master’s degree in accounting. It also translated into doing hard things along my career path, like taking on challenges completely beyond my comfort zone and learning new skills I had little previous experience in doing. My ‘plan A’ pivoted to ‘plan B’ and eventually led to ‘plan C’. All of which promoted and supported my ultimate end in mind—my eternal family. To begin with the end in mind will most always involve some type of pivoting and adapting along the way. I truly believe that if we are prayerful and earnest in our efforts, these pivots will work toward our ultimate end in mind.

I love missionary work! Three months after my baptism, I traveled to Martinique to spend time with my family for summer break. I spoke to my brother every day about the Book of Mormon and the gospel.
I invited him to church the first Sunday, but he declined. The second Sunday, he followed me to church. At the end of the meetings, he was mostly indifferent, as if he hadn’t experienced anything special during those three hours.
Even though I continued to speak to him about the gospel the following week, I didn’t invite him to come to church this time. A miracle happened Saturday evening: while ironing my Sunday clothes for the next day, I noticed he was doing the same thing.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
He answered, “I’m going to church with you tomorrow.”
“I’m not forcing you to come,” I said.
But he responded, “I want to come.”
He continued coming to church each Sunday after that.
After I returned to southern France, where I was going to school, my brother told me over the telephone that he was going to be baptized. I told him I would like to be present at his baptism but that the most important thing was that he would still be in the Church when I returned to Martinique.
One year later, I visited again. During sacrament meeting, my brother testified with great strength of the truth of the gospel. I shed tears when I think that my brother, with whom I have shared the most beautiful moments of my life, can also share with me the gospel of our Lord (see Alma 26:11–16).
Ludovic Christophe Occolier, baptized in France in 2004

I had the privilege to serve as the secretary of my deacons quorum. I recall the many assignments we members of that quorum had the opportunity to fill. Passing the sacred sacrament, collecting the monthly fast offerings, and looking after one another come readily to mind. The most frightening one, however, happened at the leadership session of our ward conference. The member of our stake presidency who was presiding called on a number of the ward officers to speak. They did so. Then, without the slightest warning, he stood and said, “We will now call on one of our younger ward officers, Thomas S. Monson, secretary of the deacons quorum, to give us an accounting of his service and to bear his testimony.” I don’t remember a single thing I said, but I have never forgotten the experience or the lesson that it taught me. It was the Apostle Peter who said, “Be ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you.”5
In an earlier generation, the Lord gave this promise to holders of the priesthood: “I will go before your face. I will be on your right hand and on your left, and my Spirit shall be in your hearts, and mine angels round about you, to bear you up.”6
This is not a time for fear, brethren, but rather a time for faith—a time for each of us who holds the priesthood to be his best self.

When I was a young university student, one of my classmates urgently pleaded with a group of us—his Latter-day Saint friends—to donate blood for his mother, who was bleeding profusely. We went directly to the hospital to have our blood typed and tested. I’ll never forget our shock when told that one of the prospective donors was unfit because of a positive blood test for a venereal disease. That infected blood was his own! Fortunately, his mother survived, but I’ll never forget his lingering sorrow. He bore the burden of knowing that his personal immorality had disqualified him from giving needed aid to his mother, and he had added to her grief. I learned a great lesson: if one dishonors the commandments of God, one dishonors mother, and if one dishonors mother, one dishonors the commandments of God.

When I was a stake president, there was a young man by the name of Jim Sirrine in our stake. As I recall, Jim was not particularly talented, not particularly athletic or gifted, but, like the rest of us, a normal garden-variety member of the Church. One evening, his ward youth decided to do a food drive for the homeless. They met at the Church, had a prayer, and then sent each youth, with a little wagon, out to collect cans of food from those who lived within the ward boundaries. They were to return in 45 minutes and the one with the most cans of food in their wagon would win a prize. They all left for their stations and returned at the appointed time. Jim returned a few minutes late but with an empty wagon. The other youth chided him, and asked him if he has gone to get a drink at the local 7-Eleven. Jim just laughed and went over and quietly sat down. The attention of the youth soon turned to the many cans of food, and seeing who was the winner with the most cans collected.

As they counted the cans, a member of the bishopric, Brother Whitehead, went over and sat down next to Jim. He quietly said, "Jim, I have a feeling that something happened out there tonight that you didn't tell us about." Jim explained that he was about ready to return with his wagon full of cans, when he decided to go to one more home. He rang the bell and a lady came to the door. He explained to her what they were doing and asked if she would be willing to contribute. She said it was a wonderful project, and said she would be right back. In a moment, she returned with two cans of food. Jim thanked her, put the cans in his wagon, bade goodbye and began down the walk.

Jim then said, "As I got half-way to the street, I had the strangest feeling, and I turned around and returned to the door. Again I rang the bell. When she answered, I said, 'Ma'am, I don't know you and you don't know me, but as I was leaving here, I had the strangest feeling that you need this food more than where I am taking it. And so I have decided to leave it here with you.'" As he said that, she burst into tears and just sobbed. Well, what does a teenage boy do when a grown woman begins to cry? What does a grown man do when a grown woman starts to cry? So he just began to unload the cans on her porch and left. As he finished the story, Jim said, "Brother Whitehead, I may never know why she needed that food so badly, but I know that it was the right thing to do."

As I heard that story, I thought, what a wonderful thing that Jim was prepared to hear the voice of the Holy Ghost speak to his soul as it invited to spontaneously serve. Jim knew who he was, and because he did, he was a pure vessel in the hands of the Lord to bless the lives of that woman and her family.

As I reflected on the times in my life when I was immersed in the scriptures, unvaryingly I was keeping a study journal in which I wrote impressions and scripture passages that inspired me. So I found a notebook and a pen and put them with my scriptures. At first, writing about what I read was a chore; it took too much time and effort. Really, I just wanted to have a spiritual snack and then move on with my daily work. But I persisted, and the scriptures came alive. I found myself thinking, dissecting passages, and applying them to my life. Simple phrases provided solutions to perplexing parenting problems. I soon found I could take notes, and it didn’t really take any longer than reading alone. I have also found that as I reread past reflections, I find answers to current questions and concerns. It is as if the Lord gives me insight a couple of weeks before I need it.
Erica Miller, Utah, USA

I was not prepared for my brother’s phone call. “Mom just passed away,” he said. “She fell and hit her head.”
I was shocked. My mom was gone at age 60, and I had just talked with her the night before. I kept asking myself why this had happened. I couldn’t understand why she had to leave me. I was angry! I dwelled on my anger for several weeks.
Eventually, I decided who was to blame. It was God’s fault. He took her away from me too soon. My mom missed many milestones in my life, and I thought it was because of Him. I was not a member of the Church at the time, but I was a devout Christian. Instead of relying on God for strength, I turned away from Him and shut Him out of my life.
I missed my mom so much. As I was growing up, my home with my parents was a safe place. No matter where I was or what I was doing, every time I talked with my mom or spent time with her, I felt at home. Now that “at home” feeling I loved was gone.
Years went by, and I lost my faith almost entirely. I tried to understand why my mom had to die, but nothing brought me peace. Then, for about one week, the following thought repeatedly came to my mind: I needed to look heavenward for understanding. I told this to my dear friend who was a member of the Church. She asked if I would like to learn more about her faith.
I didn’t realize it right away, but the Spirit woke up my soul from a sound sleep. The more I learned about the gospel, the more I felt I had found a safe place again. The feeling of being “at home” returned.
I was baptized in May 2013. I am grateful that my faith returned. I no longer turn my back on God. Instead, I embrace Him. I am still saddened by my mom’s sudden passing, but because of my faith in God, I know that I will one day be “at home” with my mom and my family forever.

When I returned home from my two-year mission, my next goal was to marry in the temple. Unfortunately, I began seeking unwholesome entertainment, giving in to temptation, and dating outside the Church.
Misery, regret, and sorrow followed, including a divorce. I still had a testimony and longed to marry in the temple, but I felt unworthy of those blessings. I buried my feelings of guilt and sought happiness in worldly behaviors.
Eventually my emotions came to the surface, and I was racked with guilt for my transgressions. I fell to my knees and cried unto the Lord with godly sorrow. I promised that from then on, I would live the law of chastity.
But that was not my only struggle. I also wallowed in the depths of drug addiction. One night, I found myself consumed with debilitating fear. With my mobile phone in hand, I stared at my dad’s phone number. It took me over an hour to muster enough courage to call him and ask if I could see him.
After we had talked at length about my struggles, my dad gave me a priesthood blessing. His hands trembled as he spoke with power and conviction. He said Satan and his angels had been working tirelessly on me because my spiritual potential threatened them. Dad said that as long as I was on the earth, I had the opportunity to overcome my addiction. He blessed me with power and strength to do so.
When the blessing ended, I embraced my father and mother and sobbed into my dad’s shoulder. I felt an overwhelming abundance of love and gratitude in my heart. My feelings of hopelessness washed away. The physical cravings of addiction and the heavy cloud of depression and inadequacy also disappeared.
Instantly, I felt a newfound enthusiasm for life and the possibility for joy if I submitted to Heavenly Father’s will. I testify that the power of the priesthood is real and tangible!
In time, Heavenly Father blessed me with a temple marriage, a loving wife who understands the power of the Savior’s Atonement, and two children.
To have risen from the hole I was once in to where I am now is truly a miracle. Through sincere repentance and faith in Jesus Christ, all things are possible! I am living proof of that.

“Wait, you haven’t finished your breakfast,” Mom said. Mom pushed the small plates of vegetables closer to Juhyuk.
Juhyuk looked at his breakfast. He was running late! Normally his older brother went to church with him. But his brother was out of town, so Juhyuk had to go on his own today. Mom didn’t go to church with them.
“OK, Mom,” Juhyuk said. He hurried to finish eating. Then he hugged Mom and headed for the door.
Mom stopped him. “Do you have your phone?”
Juhyuk held it up. “Yes. I can text my Primary teacher if I have a problem.”
“And a sweater under your coat? It’s cold.”
Juhyuk showed Mom his sweater. She nodded. Juhyuk hurried out to the street.
All the city sounds made him smile. It was fun to live in one of the biggest cities in South Korea!
But Juhyuk still wished his brother were with him. It always made the trip to church more fun.
“I know the way,” he told himself. And sure enough, before long he was at the first bus stop.
But no one else was there. That was strange. He checked his watch. He must have just missed the bus! Now he would have to wait for the next one.
After several minutes, other people started gathering. Finally, a bright blue bus rolled up. Juhyuk climbed the steps, paid the driver, and sat down.
Ta-tink! Juhyuk checked his phone after the text alert. It was from his Primary teacher. Are you on the bus? Remember, if you get lost, we can come find you!
He grinned and texted back. Yes. I’m on it now.
This was only the short bus ride, though. He would have to ride the second bus for more than an hour.
Juhyuk looked at the time and frowned. He didn’t want to miss church. He loved the part in the sacrament prayers that said, “always remember Him.” That meant always remembering Jesus. And Juhyuk wanted to do that.
When his aunt and uncle had invited his brother and him to church a few months ago, he met the missionaries. Elder Kim and Elder Moon taught them both about Jesus. The more Juhyuk learned about Jesus, the more he loved thinking about Him.
Ta-tink! A new text came in. Have you switched buses yet?
Not yet, he texted back.
The bus pulled up to the busy street where Juhyuk needed to get off to switch buses. He asked the driver if his second bus had come.
“You just missed it,” the driver said. “The next one arrives in 15 minutes.”
“Oh, OK,” Juhyuk said. “Thank you!”
Finally, after the second bus ride, Juhyuk hurried inside the meetinghouse. His aunt and uncle had saved him a seat. He had made it!
Juhyuk thought about everything he had done to get to church. He thought of all of the people who had helped him along the way. He felt that Heavenly Father was glad he was there.
Juhyuk said a silent prayer. “Thank Thee, Heavenly Father, that I can come to church today.”

As high school graduation approached, my friends and I eagerly anticipated our graduation dance. But when our school announced the date of the dance, I was devastated to learn that it was going to be on a Sunday.
“Mariela, this happens once in a lifetime!” one friend told me. “You should just go. You’ll never have to miss church again. But this once, you should skip church and go to the dance.”
I explained to her that it wasn’t just about missing church—it was about giving a day to the Lord. But as I thought about what she said, I wondered, “Would it really matter if I didn’t observe the Sabbath, just this once?” After all, my friends and I were soon going our separate ways, and we had looked forward to this event for years. The dance would offer us one last chance to celebrate together.
As I thought about my decision, I remembered that my father had taught me that the Sabbath day was “food” for the rest of the week. Could I really afford to miss out on the spiritual and temporal blessings the Lord promises to the obedient? I weighed my options, and I knew what my decision should be.
My friends didn’t understand when I told them about my decision not to go. Over the next several weeks, I felt disappointed every time I heard one of them talking about the dance, but I knew my choice was right.
As the dance approached, something unexpected happened. For some reason the school decided to change the date. Instead of being held on a Sunday evening, the dance would be held on a Saturday evening! I was so excited to be able to go after all and have a wonderful time with my friends. What made me feel especially happy was knowing that I had honored my commitment to obey the Lord.
I am grateful that I was able to attend the dance, but I realize that we’re not always blessed in this way. Sometimes we are required to make significant sacrifices for the gospel of Jesus Christ. But I learned then, and I know now, that a loving Heavenly Father always blesses us one way or another when we obey.

Edward Howard had gone down the plank for one more piece of equipment. When Ellen saw him returning with a strange, heavy load, she asked, “Papa, why are you bringing that big iron screw clamp onto the ship?”
“I’m not sure,” he replied, “but something tells me we’re going to need it.” Papa had worked at the docks for the twelve years they’d been in Holland; he understood about ships.
One day a gale came shrieking out of the north. It tugged at the rigging, and the ship strained and groaned. Below deck, the passengers huddled together and comforted each other.
Clinging to her father, Ellen cried, “Papa, is the ship going to sink?”
“No,” he replied. “The Lord wants us to arrive in America.”
Just then a wall of water lashed across the deck of the Mayflower. Wood cracked and splintered, and the main beam buckled, pulling deck boards with it. Water seeped through to the lower deck.
Cries of terror went up. “The ship is sinking!” a seaman cried.
“Brewster,” a stranger sneered, “I’ve heard about the miracle on the North Sea. See if your prayers can save us now.”
Elder Brewster looked the man in the eye and said, “We know for a certainty the Lord can save. But right now we need to combine work with faith. Come, let’s be up on deck.”
Strong and lusty seamen were struggling against the winds and the waves. The passengers ran to help them push boards against the fractured beam, trying vainly to press it up and together again.
“This iron muscle will help!” Edward Howard shouted. He came forward carrying the great iron screw clamp he had brought from Holland, and the mast was soon repaired. In gratitude the Pilgrims knelt while Elder Brewster committed them once more to the Lord.