Gospel Story Finder

Born at the outbreak of the First World War, he received only the very basic formal education. That finished when aged fourteen. He understood it would greatly reduce his chances of earning a good living. Frugality however, was bred in him; everything had a use, even when its original purpose was no longer possible. Volunteering for the RAF in World War II, he made full use of discarded parachutes. Silk from the canopies was given to my mother to make baby dresses, while my father wove the cords into table mats. He repaired our shoes and built cupboards and shelves from wood salvaged from demolition sites. He grew our needed fruit and vegetables in a garden, which the local Anglican church allowed him to use in return for growing flowers to decorate their magnificent medieval minster.

When I was getting ready to go to my school’s Christmas program, I started to look pale and feel sick. I thought I was going to be sick to my stomach. I knelt and asked Heavenly Father to help me feel better for the program. When I got to school, I started to feel better. When I went on stage, I felt perfect! I knew that Heavenly Father had helped me. When I got home, I thanked Him for helping me feel better.
Johnny Richardson, age 9Ogden, Utah

Before Eleanor Sayers Harman died, she gave all of her funds to her daughter Edith and counseled her to go to America.
Edith had been cast out by her husband when she joined the Church. She and eight-year-old Nellie left England with the flimsy assurance that a missionary thought his family in Idaho might take them in until they could be located.
Nellie was my wife’s mother; Edith, her grandmother. I knew them well. They were women of special nobility.

I recently returned from my mission and have felt unsure of where to go next in my life. Sometimes I wonder if Heavenly Father really is aware of me, my circumstances, and my feelings of uncertainty.
But then I remember that He is. He knows what I’m experiencing.
And how do I know this?
First, because our Church leaders continue to reassure us of these truths. President Russell M. Nelson, for example, recently said: “I assure you that our Heavenly Father and His Beloved Son, Jesus Christ, love you. They are intimately aware of your circumstances, your goodness, your needs, and your prayers for help.”1
And second, I believe Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ know me because I have had many experiences in my life where They have helped me and shown me Their love.
But the experience I think about most frequently is my adoption.
When I was a baby, I lived in an orphanage in Cambodia. I got very sick with pneumonia, and the orphanage couldn’t afford my medical care.
At the same time, my future mother was visiting Cambodia from Finland for a work trip. She had a spiritual experience that guided her to visit my specific orphanage.
When we met, she felt an instant spiritual connection to me.
She took me to the hospital and paid for my medical expenses. She felt that she had been guided to Cambodia to help me get better—nothing more. But over the phone one night, her dad said to her, “Maybe this little girl is supposed to stay in your life.”
She prayed and felt her own spiritual confirmation that I was meant to be her child. So she started the adoption process. It took a long time, but eventually she returned home to Finland with me.
Whenever I’m feeling unsure if Heavenly Father is aware of me, pondering my unique origin story and the miracles involved always reminds me of this truth: He is intimately aware of and involved in my life.
Remembering this experience was a driving force for me during times when I struggled while serving my mission in London, England. When I was given the option to extend my mission for a few weeks, I really just wanted to go home!
But I remembered that Heavenly Father had provided me with miracles so I could be an instrument in His hands. This knowledge gave me strength to serve for those few extra weeks and share the love of Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ with others.
I know not everyone who is in difficult circumstances may have the same spiritual experiences that I had. But I do know that Heavenly Father has not forgotten any of us. As we reach for Him, He will always give us the strength and guidance we need.
My experience as a child reassures me that even among His billions of children, Heavenly Father knew me—a tiny child in an orphanage—and provided the inspiration that connected me to the gospel and to my family.
And He knows you.
When I feel guilt over my mistakes, when I was overwhelmed while serving my mission, and as I’m now trying to decide what to study at university, I find rest in the knowledge that my Heavenly Father and Savior are with me.
As President Susan H. Porter, Primary General President, recently taught: “God’s love is not found in the circumstances of our lives but in His presence in our lives. We know of His love when we receive strength beyond our own and when His Spirit brings peace, comfort, and direction. … We can pray to have our eyes opened to see His hand in our lives and to see His love in the beauty of His creations.”2
I testify that Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ can give us the power and love we need to do all They ask of us. I invite you to willingly seek that truth for yourself, and I promise that They will remind you of Their love in the ways you need most.

Later in my life, I was preparing to leave college and I wasn’t really sure what I wanted to do. I went to a meeting where information was given on several different kinds of work. I got excited about printing and decided that I wanted to be a printer. I made an application and was offered a position with a printing company. I had a vision in my mind of being in charge of a big printing press.
On the first day of work, I was delighted when the supervisor took me to a very large machine that was printing in two colors. I thought he was going to say to me, “This is your machine.” I didn’t realize how much training I would need to perform that responsibility. The supervisor assigned me to work with the man in charge of that machine, which I did for six months. All I did that six months was move the paper to be printed on into the machine.
After that, I was put on another machine, and I worked with somebody else. Then I was assigned to a third machine, which was a handfed machine. That means that I “fed” each sheet of paper into the machine by hand. I could do that because by that time I had learned to handle paper well.
A few weeks later, the supervisor came up to me and said, “We feel that you have come to the point where you can be in charge of this machine.”
I was excited. This machine put glazing on the labels that were used for a very popular product in the United Kingdom.
The supervisor said to me, “Before I leave you in charge, you need to spend a little while longer developing your skill. There are a few more things that you need to know.” He stood by me while I was feeding paper into this machine and said, “There is one special thing you need to know—you need to listen for a particular sound. It’s sort of a clicking sound.”
The noise of the machine running with its gears rolling, along with the noise of twenty-five other machines, made it difficult to distinguish sounds, but I confidently said, “Yes, I hear that.” I thought that I was hearing what he was describing.
He said, “That’s all you need to know. As long as you can recognize that, you’ll be fine.”
He left, and I fed the paper into the machine for forty-five minutes. Suddenly the machine came to a grinding halt, making an incredible noise. All sorts of parts were knocking together. The other workers came running to see what had happened.
My supervisor came back and said, “Did you hear the sound?”
I said, “I thought I did.”
He said, “Let’s clean the machine up.” There was paper on the rollers and the cogs, and it took us about thirty minutes to clean up the machine. When he turned the machine on, he said, “Listen, there’s a sort of clicking sound. That’s the best way I can describe it. Can you hear it?”
I listened and just heard all the same noises that I’d heard before, but I said, “Yes.”
He said, “Fine.”
About thirty minutes later, the same thing happened. The supervisor said to me, “You can clean the machine by yourself this time.”
It took me over an hour to clean the paper off the rollers and out of the cogs and get the machine ready to run.
The supervisor came back and stood beside me and asked again, “Can you hear the clicking sound?”
Suddenly, above all the other sounds, I heard a sound that I hadn’t heard before, and the best way I could describe it was that it was a sort of clicking sound. The supervisor explained to me that the sound was made when the paper separated from the printing plate. The sound was determined by the consistency of the gloss that was glazing the paper.
If that sound changed, it meant that the gloss was getting too thick and too tacky. And when that happened, the paper would jam up in the grippers, causing a big pileup of paper that stopped the machine. Once I discovered that sound, I could fix the consistency of the gloss, and my machine never stopped again unless I myself turned it off.

“For the love of money is the root of all evil: which while some coveted after, they have erred from the faith, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows.
“But thou, O man of God, flee these things; and follow after righteousness, godliness, faith, love, patience, meekness.
“Fight the good fight of faith, lay hold on eternal life, whereunto thou art also called, and hast professed a good profession before many witnesses” (1 Timothy 6:10–12).
I related to my family how I had prepared myself for the banking profession. Dad was the bank attorney. From my newspaper delivery earnings, I saved enough to buy 10 shares of First National Bank stock. Dad insisted that I attend the stockholders’ meetings and vote my 10 shares. He thought that was a way of introducing me to the banking profession. A job offer came after graduation that was much more lucrative than banking. I thought I would accept the position for a few years and then return to banking. I never did become a banker. I tried to teach my grandchildren that choosing a major in college is not as important as developing integrity, ethics, and good study habits and building character as a person of faith, confidence, and industry.

A number of years ago I received a telephone call that would change my life—my eternal life.
A good sister from my ward called to invite me to perform a dance floor show number at a Mutual activity evening that was being held in a couple of weeks. Dancing was a hobby of mine, and I was studying ballroom dancing at a studio in Salt Lake City. I had never been to a youth MIA dance before, and I was excited to accept the invitation to perform.
My partner and I arrived on the appointed evening and were greeted enthusiastically. I was surprised to find that we were the only ones on the program. It was an exciting experience, and I thoroughly enjoyed the evening.
The following Sunday morning, I decided to go to church in our ward for the first time since I was ordained a deacon. At that time, none of my family was active. I found people who welcomed me warmly, and they demonstrated a genuine friendship and caring. These experiences started me on the road to activity and service in the Church that has been a joy to me throughout the years.
The senior Aaronic Priesthood committee, as it was called then, was a group of brethren who worked with men who were older than the normal Aaronic Priesthood age. These were just regular men who were doing what the Lord wanted them to do. They took me under their wing, and we became good friends. A wonderful returned missionary gave our class instruction. He taught the basics of the gospel and helped prepare me to serve a mission. During this same time I was asked to help teach dancing in the ward, which gave me a feeling of being needed, and it also gave me a responsibility.
The next 15 months flew by, filled with growth and happiness as I progressed. I soon received a call to serve a mission in Mexico. I quickly grew to love the language, the country, and its people. Sharing the message of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ gave me a foundation upon which to build the rest of my life.
That evening so long ago when I was invited to share my talent, the door opened to a wonderful new world of friends and activity in the Church. I am grateful for those who reached out with a warm hand of fellowship, invited me in, nurtured me, and blessed my life.

I had this principle vividly impressed upon me one day a long time ago. I was living back in Virginia at the time, and one beautiful fall day I drove out into the country to pick up some walnuts. There were sixteen Stop signs between my home and the very, very heavily wooded lane where I turned in to get those walnuts. I stopped fifteen times. The last Stop sign was way out in the country. I could see in both directions. There were no other cars in sight. I thought to myself: “Why should I stop? Stop signs are to protect people, but I am the only one around. So why stop?” So I didn’t! I wasn’t speeding. I just went through at the speed limit. When I reached the heavily wooded lane, I found I couldn’t see around the corner. It’s that way back there in Virginia. So I slowed down and turned in. Just as I did, there was another car coming out of the lane, and because we couldn’t see each other, we ran together at about five miles per hour. It wasn’t a hard impact and the cars weren’t severely damaged. As I recall, it only cost me $168 to replace my grill and headlights.
Now, that accident had to be perfectly timed. Of course, if I had stopped at the last Stop sign, it would never have happened. I said, “Lord, I get the message. You really didn’t have to go this far, but I do understand.” In fact, I stopped sixteen times on the way home with the front end of my car beat up.

“I was walking several steps ahead of grandpa [President Lorenzo Snow] when he stopped me, saying … ‘It was right here that the Lord Jesus Christ appeared to me at the time of the death of President Woodruff. … He stood right here, about one meter above the floor. It looked as though He stood on a plate of solid gold.’
“Grandpa told me what a glorious personage the Savior is and described His hands, feet, countenance and beautiful White Robes, all of which were of such a glory of whiteness and brightness that he could hardly gaze upon Him.
“Then grandpa said … ‘I want you to remember that this is the testimony of your grandfather, that he told you with his own lips that he actually saw the Savior here in the Temple and talked with Him face to face’” (Allie Young Pond, personal journal).

“I didn’t go to the same seventh and eighth grade that all the people in my neighborhood and ward did, but I transferred back during my freshman year in high school. I had a hard time fitting in because they were all together and I was all alone.”
Another part of creativity is recognizing what abilities you truly do have. Not all talents involve being able to perform in front of others. For example, remember how Ivey talked about having a tough time fitting in at a new school?
“There was a girl in one of my classes that I didn’t know at all,” Ivey explains. “One day she said hi to me. I found out her name. We would see each other in the halls. She would ask me how I was doing or help me understand my homework. She was really nice and genuinely interested. She tried to learn a little about me. She invited me to a basketball game. I started going with her friends and integrated into that group. Because of what she did for me, I developed confidence. She had a talent for reaching out.”

Brigham Young sent several messengers to Washakie to assure him that the members of the Church were willing to assist the Shoshones in learning to raise crops. One of the messengers, James S. Brown, recorded the meeting with Chief Washakie. He said that they were taken to the chief’s lodge and invited to sit with a group of tribal leaders. Brother Brown read a letter from Brigham Young, proposing to furnish seed and tools and some men to demonstrate how to plant and cultivate. He also presented the group with a copy of the Book of Mormon. The leaders passed the book around the circle and declared that it was of no use to them. Washakie let the council members speak and waited until they were finished talking. Then he reached for the book, leafed through it, and spoke to his group.
You are all fools; you are blind and cannot see; you have no ears, for you do not hear; … These men are our friends. The great Mormon captain [Brigham Young] has talked with our Father above the clouds, and He told the Mormon captain to send these good men here to tell us the truth, and not a lie. They have not got forked tongues. They talk straight, with one tongue, and tell us that after a few more snows the buffalo will be gone, and if we do not learn some other way to get something to eat, we willstarve to death. Now, we know that is the truth, for this country was once covered with buffalo, elk, deer, and antelope, and we had plenty to eat, and also robes for bedding, and to make lodges. …
The time was when our Father who lives above the clouds loved our fathers who lived long ago, and His face was bright, and He talked with our fathers. His face shone upon them, and … they were wise and wrote books, and the Great Father talked good to them; but after a while our people would not hear Him, and they quarreled and stole and fought, until the Great Father got mad, because His children would not hear Him talk.
Then James Brown said that Chief Washakie drew a contrast between the Indian’s way of life and the white man’s, telling his people that they could gain much by learning from the settlers. The chief went on to say,
We feel that it is good for them to come and shake hands. They are our friends, and we will be their friends. Their horses may drink our water, and eat our grass, and they may sleep in peace in our land. We will build houses by their houses, and they will teach us to till the soil as they do. Then, when the snow comes and the game is fat, we can leave our families by the Mormons, and go and hunt, and not be afraid of our families being disturbed by other Indians, or by anybody else, for the Mormons are a good people (James S. Brown, Giant of the Lord, Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1960, pp. 373–74).
Brother Brown reports that without a vote being taken, each man in the group gave his assent to the chief’s decision.

It was late at night, I was the only cashier on duty, and there wasn’t another soul in the entire grocery store. As I wiped down the checkout counters, I began humming.
My humming quickly turned into singing. I started singing “Come, Come, Ye Saints” (Hymns, no. 30). I don’t usually sing hymns for fun, but I sang energetically until the sight of someone stopped me.
An older man approached.
“I know that song,” he said. “How do you know it?”
“It is a hymn we sing in my church,” I said.
“Are you a Mormon?”
I responded that I was.
He told me his wife had been a Latter-day Saint and had passed away from cancer in 2011. He said “Come, Come, Ye Saints” was sung at her funeral. I expressed my condolences and told him my older brother passed away in 2011 while serving a mission in Chile. We also sang that hymn at his funeral. The Spirit touched our hearts as we marveled at this “coincidence.”
“So do you think you’ll see your brother again?” he asked.
I had asked myself the same question countless times. In the difficult months after my brother died, I struggled with doubts. Eventually, Heavenly Father blessed me with a sweet knowledge that families are forever. I still had questions, but I met the man’s gaze and declared, “Yes, I do!”
“You have a lot of faith,” the man said. “My wife used to say we should have ‘a perfect brightness of hope.’” I agreed and quoted the rest of 2 Nephi 31:20, that we should love God and all men, press forward, feast upon the word of Christ, and endure to the end.
“That’s it!” the man said with tears in his eyes. “That’s what she would say! How did you know that?”
I told him it was in the Book of Mormon. He asked me how he could get a copy. I told him how to do it online. The man shook my hand, thanked me by name, and left.

Recently I listened to a young mother address a ward Relief Society meeting. She told us that she is losing her eyesight. She expressed gratitude for those who had been reading to her, driving her to appointments, and for another sister who was teaching her to play the piano. Relief Society sisters through their acts of kindness had offered her their light and helped to lessen the fear of this very difficult time of her transition into a world of darkness.

Mikako Akiyama, 18, and Satomi Miyashita, 17, both from the Kawasaki Ward, were eager to talk about the baptisms for the dead they had participated in that same morning.
“This is the first visit to the temple for me,” said Satomi. “I had to have an interview with the bishop and get a recommend. But what a wonderful thing to come early in the morning to a beautiful white building and be baptized to help others.”
“I think it is a wonderful thing for our ancestors to have the opportunity to be happily united in heaven,” Mikako added. “If I had not had the opportunity to accept the gospel in this life, I would want someone to be baptized for me. I wanted very much to come this morning. It has made me think of my own baptism over over again.”

Seth is running a dairy farm for his grandfather, who is in the hospital. When Grandpa’s best cow has trouble calving, Seth doesn’t know where to turn. His father is busy with the roundup, and Seth is too small to deliver the calf himself. Mrs. Bowers, the telephone switchboard operator, tells him to pray, but he doesn’t even know how to do that. Then two LDS missionaries come calling. One of them, a rancher, delivers the calf and teaches Seth how to pray.
The next two weeks seemed to fly by with the help of Elder Wood, the tall young man from the city, and Elder James, the rancher. Elder Wood kept the house spic and span, and Elder James helped Seth in the barn. As the missionary and the boy worked side by side, Elder James taught him more about the gospel of Jesus Christ.
“Elder James,” Seth said one morning as they milked, “I like to pray, and it makes me feel good. But how do I know if I get an answer?”
Elder James continued to milk Sweetie with strong but gentle hands. “Well,” he said thoughtfully, “there are several ways. Mostly you start with faith that you’re really talking to your Heavenly Father. Then you learn to know when you get an answer. Some people just feel good, some feel peaceful, and some get ideas. Every person is different, and different problems sometimes require different kinds of answers.”
Seth thought about it. He did feel peaceful when he prayed, and sometimes new thoughts did seem to come into his mind.
Elder James continued. “When I was young, I liked to listen to the testimonies of prophets. I felt that if they could get direct answers to prayer, then I could too.” He carried his bucket of milk to the barn door, covered the bucket, and picked up a clean one. Then he leaned over the stall and looked at the boy for a minute. “Just keep praying and listening for answers,” he said. “It’s kind of like milking. At first it’s hard. You just have to keep trying and gaining strength. Soon, real soon, you get good at it.”
Seth finished milking his cow and stood up. He stretched and turned to the man. “Who were those prophets you were talking about—the ones who got answers to prayer?”
Elder James moved his milking stool next to Seth’s. “Sit down, boy,” he said, “and I’ll tell you about Joseph Smith.”
Seth listened intently. The story he heard filled him with amazement. A boy not much older than he was had actually talked to God and had seen His face! “Do you really believe that?” Seth asked.
“I really believe it.”
“This is important! Why doesn’t everyone know?”
Elder James shook his head sadly. “Not everyone believes that God would talk to a young boy. But He did, and great things have happened as a result.”
“Like what?”
“Well, for one thing, Joseph Smith received a record of people who lived on this continent hundreds of years ago. He translated the record and had it published in a book.”
“I’d like to see that book,” Seth said eagerly. “Do you have a copy?”
“Yes I do, and I’ll give it to you.”
Seth couldn’t even speak for a moment. Books were very expensive in Wyoming in the 1920s. “Th-Thank you,” he stammered. “Will you tell me more about it, please?”
They moved over to the last two cows, and as they milked, Elder James told him story after story from the Book of Mormon. Seth couldn’t seem to hear enough. “What happened to all those people?” Seth asked as they strained the milk.
“Well, the Nephites were all killed in battle. Some of the Indians in North and South America are what’s left of the Lamanites.”
Seth stared at him. “Really? Do they know that they’re the Lamanites?”
Elder James laughed. “Some—those who have read the book—do. It touches something inside of them. It’s very close to the traditions of their fathers.”
After the Elders left, Seth had so much to think about that he forgot to call his family. When the telephone rang, he jumped.
“Are you all right, Seth?” his mother’s worried voice asked.
“I’m fine,” he said. “I just forgot to call.”
“Is everything ready for Grandpa?”
“Everything’s ready.”
Grandpa was coming home from the hospital the next day. Seth and the Elders had made sure that everything was clean and shiny. Elder Wood had even baked a cake, and it sat on the pantry shelf, covered with a clean cloth.
“We’ll be over after supper tomorrow,” Mom promised. “It’ll be good to see you, son. I miss you.”
“I miss you, too, Mom,” he said, and his voice got husky. Up till now, he’d been too busy to be homesick.
“I love you, Seth,” she said. “See you tomorrow.”
When Grandma’s Model T came up the dusty road, Seth was waiting on the porch. It was wonderful to see them! Grandma bustled around and helped Grandpa out of the car. Seth got hugs from both of them before he carried in their bags and parcels.
“My, it’s good to be home!” Grandma said. “I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep or a good meal since we left.”
“Me either!” Grandpa whispered weakly and chuckled.
Seth saw the twinkle in Grandpa’s eye and felt comforted. Grandpa was still Grandpa, even if his body seemed different. Seth helped get Grandpa settled in bed, then pulled a chair up to the bed and began his report on the farm.
“Sweetie’s giving more milk than ever!” he announced proudly. “And her calf is going to be as good as she is.” Then he told Grandpa about the missionaries helping with the farm.
“Who are these missionaries?” Grandpa asked with a scowl. “I don’t like strangers messing around with my animals.”
“They’ll be here this afternoon, and you can meet them. You’ll like them,” Seth promised. He ran out of the room and returned with his Book of Mormon. “While you’re waiting, you can read this book they left me. It’s about Jesus Christ.”
Grandpa continued to scowl. “It’s not the Bible! I don’t want to read it!”
“It’s really interesting,” Seth said, ignoring the scowl. “There’s a story about a good king named Benjamin. He worked as a farmer so the people wouldn’t have to support him.”
Grandpa’s gray brows came together, and Seth could tell that he was thinking. “Well, that does sound interesting. It just might be a good book—but it’s not the Bible!”
“They believe and use the Bible, too,” Seth explained. Then he left the bedroom so that Grandpa could rest. As he shut the door, he saw Grandpa opening the cover of the book.
The next morning Grandpa was still in bed, and Seth went in to see him before breakfast. Grandpa had the Book of Mormon open on his lap.
“I’ve been reading,” he said gruffly. “It’s a good book.”
Seth grinned. “I told you so.”
Grandpa looked at him. “I’ll say this for your missionaries. They’ve sure helped with the farm, and they can preach, too.”
He closed the book and looked thoughtful. “Maybe I ought to listen to them sometime.”
That afternoon when the missionaries came, Grandpa was ready. He listened as Elder James talked about Jesus Christ and the Restoration, and he asked questions. By the time the Elders left, Grandpa had invited them to come again.
Seth felt as if the whole farm had changed. The chores were still hard, and there was still a lot to do, but now he knew he could pray and get help. And Grandpa was reading the Book of Mormon.
He looked at the clear Wyoming sky and felt peaceful inside.

Another example was with the young women. When each young woman reached her sixteenth birthday, together we reviewed her thoughts and concerns about dating. Then we looked at her eternal goals and encouraged her to discuss them with her parents and to remember them on her dates. As the years have gone by, a number of young women have told me how much it helped to remember their “sweet sixteen bishop’s interview” and the commitments they made to themselves and the Lord for achieving eternal goals.

The year before my mission, the bishop called me into his office and extended a call for me to teach the seven-year-old Primary children. I accepted the call, excited to teach. At the same time, I also had a good job at a local supermarket.
Not long after I was hired, the manager and assistant manager of the supermarket informed me that I would have to work on Sundays. The manager said, “I am not going to schedule around the Mormons or anyone else.” To keep my job, I would have to give up my calling and break the Lord’s commandment to keep the Sabbath day holy. My manager wouldn’t discuss it any further.
I explained the situation to my bishop. I wasn’t sure I would go on a mission. But if I did go, I would need a job to earn the money to pay for it. However, I also wanted to keep the Sabbath day holy, attend church, and teach Primary. After a long discussion with the bishop, I decided to quit my job. Not long after that, I found a job that gave me Sundays off. I kept my calling, and for the next several months I helped the children prepare for baptism.
One day I was looking at the missionary discussions, and it suddenly became clear to me why it had been so important for me to teach Primary. The discussions taught about Heavenly Father, Jesus Christ, the Book of Mormon, the First Vision, faith, repentance, baptism, and the gift of the Holy Ghost—the same principles I had been teaching my Primary class. I decided to pray about a mission. I was soon called as a full-time missionary.
Some people might wonder why I quit my job, especially when someone else could have easily taught that Primary class. But giving up my job in order to keep the Sabbath day holy and teach Primary helped me prepare for my mission and resulted in great blessings for me.

While the decisions we make determine our course, we can revise that course by choosing to repent of our sins. As we change our path and seek forgiveness, the Savior’s infinite Atonement makes it possible for us to ultimately feel peace. One reader shares her feelings about finding the Lord’s peace:
“I am a young woman, 17 years old. I was baptized when I was 11. When I turned 14, I started dating a boy who was not a member of the Church and I became less-active. I did things that were wrong, and I felt dirty. I could not forgive myself, and I thought the Lord would not forgive me either.
“One day I saw two missionaries. For some reason, I felt the desire to pray again. I went home and offered a prayer to Heavenly Father. Then I got out my Book of Mormon and began to read. That Sunday I went to church and heard one of the missionaries bear his testimony. His words filled me with a desire to obtain a true testimony.
“As I prayed, read the scriptures, and fasted, I came to know the gospel is true, and I was filled with sorrow for what I had done. I told my branch president everything. I was so ashamed I felt my heart had shattered. He called a disciplinary council, and I was placed on probation.
“One night I read about Alma’s conversion in Alma 36:15–21. Tears filled my eyes. I knelt down and said: ‘Lord, free me from my sins as You did Alma. I know You can forgive my sins by the power of the atoning blood of Jesus Christ.’ At that moment, I felt a great power in my body. Among the tears on my face was a smile of joy. I felt, as did Alma, an exquisite joy.
“When my probation ended, my branch president called me to serve as secretary of the Young Women, branch music director, and a Primary teacher. I know Jesus Christ atoned for our sins and wants us to repent and return to Him.”

When I was a recent convert and living in Colombia, a very special family from my ward invited me to family home evening. It was the first time I had attended home evening, and the spirit of love and faith I found there surprised me.
Once everyone had gathered together, we had a prayer and then shared what we had done during the past week. After we talked, we had an activity.
With the lights turned off, we wrote certain phrases onto colored paper hearts. When we had all finished, we turned on the lights and displayed what we’d written. Some had done not so well, some terribly, and others like me wrote with much difficulty; I think my writing was the worst of all. Of course, the lesson was very clear: when we don’t have the light of the gospel in our lives, everything looks dark, is distorted, and difficult.
This lesson reached me deeply. And in the years since that day, I have tried to ensure my life has taken a course filled with gospel light especially so that I can be an example to my children.
Dina del Pilar Maestre, California, USA

Four months later my twin was still asking questions. I told him that I was happy to talk to him about it but that ultimately he would have to ask God for himself. A few weeks later he came to me and said: “I asked, and now I know the Book of Mormon is true and that Joseph Smith was a prophet. How do I get in touch with the missionaries?”
Imagine my joy a month later when I had the opportunity of baptizing my twin brother. We both served missions; I was called to Chile and my brother to Mexico. Like Paul of old, we are trying to give back a little of what we received.