Gospel Story Finder

Another example: We once had a major decision to make. When our prayers left us uncertain, I went to see Elder Harold B. Lee. He counseled us to proceed. Sensing that I was still very unsettled, he said, “The problem with you is you want to see the end from the beginning.” Then he quoted this verse from the Book of Mormon: “Dispute not because ye see not, for ye receive no witness until after the trial of your faith” (Ether 12:6).
He added, “You must learn to walk a few steps ahead into the darkness, and then the light will turn on and go before you.” That was a life-changing experience from one verse in the Book of Mormon.

While I was serving my mission in Mexico, my companion and I met a man from Obregón, a city in northwestern Mexico near the Gulf of California. He was interested in our message about the Restoration of the gospel, but he had only 10 minutes to talk because he had to catch a train. We taught him all we could in that short time and gave him a copy of the Book of Mormon and all of the tracts we had. At the time, our mission had no missionaries in Obregón.
Several months later I received a Christmas card from someone in Obregón. I looked at the card and wondered who could have sent it. Then I realized it had been sent by the man we had talked to for 10 minutes. I hung up the card in our apartment with the rest of the Christmas cards the other elders and I had received.
After Christmas I was about to throw the card away when I felt an impression to keep it. The impression was not an audible voice but a feeling in my heart. Instead of throwing the card away, I put it in my suitcase.
A few months later as I was reading the monthly letter from the mission home, I noticed an announcement that missionary work would be opened in Obregón. Once again I thought, “What does that city have to do with me?” Then I again remembered the man we had met from there. I dug through my suitcase and found the Christmas card. I wrote on the card, “These elders are friends of mine, and I am sending them to teach you more about the gospel.” Then I sent the card to the elders assigned to serve in Obregón and told them to take it with them and visit the man.
Soon I received a letter from the elders in Obregón. It read: “Dear Elder Ramos, the work here has been so difficult that the mission president was planning to pull us out until we received your card. We went to see this brother, and he was so excited about our message that he took us to meet all of his family and friends. Because of this brother, we have started a branch.”
Years have passed, and now three stakes have been organized in Obregón. I am humbled to know that because I had listened to the promptings of the Spirit, I was blessed to play a small part in helping my brothers and sisters in Obregón receive the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Last year we had a serious problem regarding a great many obscene telephone calls that we were receiving. I thought the caller would get tired of making such calls, but he didn’t. Upon inquiring around the neighborhood I learned that a number of other women were receiving the same calls. I investigated the situation and discovered that the person making the telephone calls was a teenage boy who lived up the street. The next time he telephoned, I addressed him by name, telling him that was the last obscene call he was going to make. By this time, of course, my feelings against this person were very strong. In my mind he was clearly and simply one of the nuisances in life like mosquitoes that had no right to exist but did anyway.
After a long debate with myself, I went to talk to his mother. It was obvious that he needed help, and it would not be possible for him to get it unless his parents understood what he was doing. I told the boy’s mother all about her son’s telephone calls. She was surprised but took the news very well and was very grateful to me for coming to her.
“I’ve been concerned about Jack for a long time,” she said. “He’s under such tremendous pressure from his father. He’s not allowed to have even a minute of free time, it seems. On the weekends he has these long, long lists of chores to do, and they’re never quite done well enough. ‘You missed a spot in the hedge, Jack,’ his father says, or ‘You didn’t get all the weeds.’ It seems like his responsibilities never end. Last weekend his father made him type a letter over four times, finding something different each time. If Jack isn’t home when his father comes in, he’ll say, ‘Where’s Jack? Is he doing his homework?’ And if he’s out playing in the neighborhood, he’ll go and call for him to come home. Sometimes when Jack will come in he’ll ask, ‘Is father here?’ and I know he’s really asking, ‘Am I going to have to do something?’ If his father isn’t at home, he’ll relax a little bit. But it doesn’t last. Jack has developed a nervous twitch. And I know all this pressure has something to do with the obscene telephone calls.”
Again the tremor of conscience. Again the breaking down of my first perception, allowing me to see inside the problem. I knew Jack’s secret, at least a little bit about the ache inside him that made him do sad, sad things. And I wanted to help him, encourage him, instead of slapping him like a mosquito. He did deserve to live after all.

On the evening the special event occurred, I entered the place for the meeting and was immediately intrigued by the arrangements that had been made. All who entered were asked to sign their names on slips of paper that were then folded and dropped into a cardboard box. When the large crowd was seated, and the honored guest had taken his place on the stand, there was a song and a prayer, and then the chairman arose to announce the proceedings. No speakers had been assigned for the evening, he said. He pointed to the cardboard box that was now on the rostrum. Names would be drawn from the box, he explained, and those who were chosen in this manner would be asked to represent all who were present in making expressions of appreciation and love for our friend.
One by one the names were drawn. As the hour passed, a procession of unrehearsed speakers filed to the podium and revealed the story of selfless service that our friend had given to members of the community.
As the meeting drew to a close, the name of a local physician was drawn from the box. For many years the good doctor had lived as a neighbor to our honored friend. He had recently returned to his home following treatment in another state for what had proved to be a near-fatal illness. As he spoke, he explained that for many years he had contemplated how his own life and that of our friend had been devoted to serving others. He told of leaving his home to make professional calls at hours both early and late, and of frequently encountering our friend departing on what appeared to be responses to the call for help from someone with a problem. At these times, the doctor said, he felt particularly close to his neighbor in the fellowship of service that they shared.
At this point in his remarks, the doctor paused, and his voice became touched with emotion. Making reference to his recent illness, he related how he had left this same community several months before, not knowing whether he would ever recover and return. No farewell testimonial had been held in his honor. He confessed that he had been disturbed by the obvious difference in the feelings of the community toward himself and our friend, especially in view of the service that both of them had given. Tonight, he said, he had learned why this was so.
With all of the apparent parallels between his life and that of his friend, there was one very important difference that had set them apart from each other in the eyes of the people in the community. For all of his services, the doctor pointed out, he had collected a fee. That was the difference. He had not realized until tonight how much his fees had cost him.
All of us who knew the good doctor and had benefitted from his kindly ministrations realized that he was being too critical of his own compassion and charity. But he succeeded, in those dramatic circumstances, in teaching all of us a lesson that we would not soon forget.

Like many young women in Uganda, Sandra walks more than a mile to church, helps clean the meetinghouse on Fridays, and attends seminary on Saturdays. During the week, she rises before 5:00 a.m. to read schoolbooks, and then she walks to school, returning home after 6:00 p.m. She missed a year of school because of financial difficulties but faces her challenges with a positive attitude: “The gospel has really helped me to stay steadfast and immovable.”
Sandra is the only Church member in her home, but her parents support her Church service, such as helping when the ward cleaned the grounds of a local orphanage. Her family sees how the gospel has helped her be strong, even when facing unresolved problems. Reflecting on the source of that strength, Sandra says, “When I go to church, I feel like I am putting on the armor of God” (see Ephesians 6:11–17).

Brother Ashton served a full-time mission in the Peru Lima South Mission. His decision to serve was influenced by a good friend who felt prompted to tell him he needed to serve a mission. As his friend expressed his feelings, Brian felt the Spirit’s confirmation. On his mission he was struggling with some significant health challenges when he was called to serve as president of a large branch. During this time, he prayed fervently and continually to Heavenly Father for help. “I learned to rely on Him, and He came through for me,” he said. “Learning to trust Him has made all the difference.”

Preceding the comforting revelation to Joseph and Oliver, the Prophet endured a poignant, painful experience that taught him to look to the Savior and not fear the opinions, pressures, and threats of men.
In June 1828 Joseph allowed Martin Harris to take the first 116 pages of the Book of Mormon manuscript from Harmony, Pennsylvania, to show to family members in Palmyra, New York. After Martin failed to return as promised, an anxious Joseph traveled by stagecoach to his parents’ home in Manchester Township, New York. The Prophet immediately sent for Martin. When Martin arrived, he admitted that he did not have the manuscript or know where it was.
Joseph exclaimed: “Oh! My God, my God. … All is lost, is lost. What shall I do? I have sinned. It is I that tempted the wrath of God by asking him for that which I had no right to ask. … Of what rebuke am I not worthy from the angel of the Most High?”
The next day the Prophet returned to Harmony. Once there, he said, “I commenced humbling myself in mighty prayer before the Lord … that if possible I might obtain mercy at his hands and be forgiven of all that I had done which was contrary to his will.”2
After chastising Joseph for fearing man more than God, the Lord told him:
“Thou art Joseph, and thou wast chosen to do the work of the Lord, but because of transgression, if thou art not aware thou wilt fall.
“But remember, God is merciful; therefore, repent of that which thou hast done which is contrary to the commandment which I gave you, and thou art still chosen, and art again called to the work” (D&C 3:9–10).
“For a time, the Lord took the Urim and Thummim and the plates from Joseph. But these things were soon restored to him. ‘The angel was rejoiced when he gave me back the Urim and Thummim,’ the Prophet recalled, ‘and said that God was pleased with my faithfulness and humility, and loved me for my penitence and diligence in prayer, in the which I had performed my duty so well as to … be able to enter upon the work of translation again.’ As Joseph moved forward in the great work before him, he was now fortified by the sweet feelings of receiving the Lord’s forgiveness and a renewed determination to do His will.”3

I now would like to share another experience. In January of 2019, my wife, Debbie, and I were invited into the office of President Nelson. He had positioned a chair close to us, and we sat almost knee to knee. After extending to us our current calling, President Nelson turned to Debbie and focused on her. He was kind, loving, gentle, and full of joy, like the perfect father or grandfather. He held Debbie’s hand and patted it, reassuring her that it would be OK and that our family would be blessed. It seemed to us at that moment that we were the most important people to him and that he had all the time in the world for us. We left his office that Friday afternoon feeling reassured, loved, and joyful.

On Monday we saw the news. During that same day that President Nelson had spent with us, one of his daughters had passed away from cancer. We were stunned. Our hearts were full as we mourned for him and his family. Our hearts were also full of gratitude for his Christlike attention to us while mourning for his daughter who was suffering.

As we pondered this experience, we asked ourselves, “How could he be so kind, loving, and even joyful at such a difficult time?” The answer is because he knows. He knows that Christ has been victorious. He knows he will be with his daughter again and will spend an eternity with her. Joy and eternal perspective come through being bound to the Savior by making and keeping covenants and through Christlike discipleship.

When I was in high school, one of my friends invited me to a party and said, “Let’s go ask my father if we can borrow his car.” His father did not want to let him borrow the car. Then, when his father saw me, he said, “OK, I’ll let you borrow the car, but only if Benjamín will drive.”
This man knew that my family and I were members of the Church, that we didn’t drink alcohol, and that I would be a safe driver.
The reaction of my friend’s father helped me appreciate my parents’ teachings and the example they set. At home we had family home evening and family prayer. Sunday was a day of rest for us. These types of things were the gospel in action for us, and we enjoyed it a lot. My father often invited other members of the Church to come to our house to talk about the gospel on Sunday afternoons. We ate together, we talked about the gospel, and we shared a close friendship.

When I started preschool I cried because I missed my mommy and daddy and my little brother, Ashton. When my mommy picked me up for lunch, she saw that I had been crying. She told me it was OK to feel sad and that when I felt alone or sad I could pray to Heavenly Father. The next day we said a prayer in the car before I went in. That helped me feel better. But right before lunch I really missed my family and started crying again. I remembered what Mommy had told me and said a prayer in my head. I felt better and stopped crying. I know that Heavenly Father is always with me and that I am never alone.Katlyn Marie E., age 4, California

Forty-four years ago I heard William J. Critchlow Jr., then president of the South Ogden Stake, speak to the brethren in the general priesthood session of conference, and retell a story concerning trust, honor, and duty. May I share the story with you. Its simple lesson applies to us today, as it did then.
“Rupert stood by the side of the road watching an unusual number of people hurry past. At length he recognized a friend. ‘Where are all of you going in such a hurry?’ he asked.
“The friend paused. ‘Haven’t you heard?’ he said.
“‘I’ve heard nothing,’ Rupert answered.
“‘Well,’ continued [the] friend, ‘the King has lost his royal emerald. Yesterday he attended a wedding of the nobility and wore the emerald on the slender golden chain around his neck. In some way the emerald became loosened from the chain. Everyone is searching, for the King has offered a reward … to the one who finds it. Come, we must hurry.’
“‘But I cannot go without asking Grandmother,’ faltered Rupert.
“‘Then I cannot wait. I want to find the emerald,’ replied his friend.
“Rupert hurried back to the cabin at the edge of the woods to seek his grandmother’s permission. ‘If I could find it we could leave this hut with its dampness and buy a piece of land up on the hillside,’ he pleaded with Grandmother.
“But his grandmother shook her head. ‘What would the sheep do?’ she asked. ‘Already they are restless in the pen, waiting to be taken to the pasture—and please do not forget to take them to water when the sun shines high in the heavens.’
“Sorrowfully, Rupert took the sheep to the pasture, and at noon he led them to the brook in the woods. There he sat on a large stone by the stream. ‘If I could only have had a chance to look for the King’s emerald,’ he thought. Turning his head to gaze down at the sandy bottom of the brook, suddenly he stared into the water. What was it? It could not be! He leaped into the water, and his gripping fingers held something that was green, with a slender bit of gold chain. ‘The King’s emerald!’ he shouted. ‘It must have been flung from the chain when the King [astride his horse, galloped across the bridge spanning the stream, and the current carried] it here.’
“With shining eyes Rupert ran to his grandmother’s hut to tell her of his great find. ‘Bless you, my boy,’ she said, ‘but you never would have found it if you had not been doing your duty, herding the sheep.’ And Rupert knew that this was the truth.”
The lesson to be learned from this story is found in the familiar couplet: “Do your duty; that is best. Leave unto the Lord the rest.”

Angela Vildor moved to the Bahamas from Haiti a few years ago with her family. With the move came many changes, including learning English—a real challenge since she had spent her entire life speaking Haitian Creole. One afternoon a friend of hers invited her to a free English class sponsored by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Angela readily accepted the invitation.

“I met the missionaries in English class,” she says. “They gave me a Book of Mormon, and later they talked to me about it. I told them that when I read the Book of Mormon, I felt very strong; it was a very different feeling. They explained that what I was feeling was the Spirit.”

Soon after Angela told the missionaries about her feelings, she received the missionary discussions and was baptized. A few weeks later, Angela’s younger sister, Annette, was also baptized. Together, the two of them help each other learn more about the gospel and share it with the rest of their family and friends.

Because my wife and I knew of no schools in Madrid, Spain, that were run by members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and because we wanted our children to receive a religious education, we registered them in a school sponsored by another religion. Because our children were the only members of our Church attending this school, we hoped they wouldn’t become targets of religious discrimination.
One day in October 1999, our son, age 16 at the time, brought us an invitation from school to attend a lecture and discussion titled “Religious Sects: Mormonism.” The lecture was to be given by a prestigious authority known for having devoted a good part of his life to the study of religions, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in particular.
Fearing that an inaccurate impression of our beliefs might be given, I got in touch with our stake president and informed him of the meeting. He took note of the date and place and asked me to speak with the Church’s Public Affairs Department to see if a representative could attend and answer any questions that might arise.
When the date arrived, my wife, my son, and I went to the school. The hall where the lecture was held seated 500. Once we had taken our seats, our eyes sought any other Church members who might be in the large crowd that was filling the room. Soon we discovered Brother Quirce of Public Affairs. He gave us a friendly wave from the other side of the room.
The meeting started, and the director of instruction introduced the speaker, heaping praise upon him and giving a detailed accounting of the universities where he had obtained his degrees, both academic and ecclesiastical. The speaker began his talk by briefly summarizing the history of Christianity from the time of Jesus Christ and His Apostles until the year 1830, when the world first began to hear of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, organized in America.
The speaker was not too severe in his appraisal of our faith. It was obvious he had read many of our books because he frequently quoted verses from the Book of Mormon and the Doctrine and Covenants. He also read extensively from the Prophet Joseph Smith’s account of the First Vision. It appeared he intended to lead his listeners to the conclusion that if Mormonism were indeed a sect, as he believed, it was not one of the more dangerous ones.
I took notes of all the things I thought to be in error, such as when he said that Mormons were not Christians and that Joseph Smith had copied the Book of Mormon from an old American novel. The lecture was quite detailed and ended after more than 90 minutes, at which time the hall erupted into resounding applause.
When the applause was over and the discussion began, the first person to get to his feet was Brother Quirce, who introduced himself as a member of the Church. He explained how Joseph Smith had obtained the golden plates and what his contribution had been as the Prophet of the Restoration.
As I listened to Brother Quirce, I suddenly felt the need to get up also and clarify certain concepts so that everyone present might know the truth about our doctrine and our beliefs.
When I told my family I wanted to speak, my son was frightened and said, “No, Dad, please. Don’t say anything, because everybody here knows me, and I could have problems with my teachers.” I thought it cowardly for me to let Brother Quirce be the only one to speak, but I didn’t want my son to have problems, so for the moment I remained silent. As time passed, however, I could feel the increasing insistence of the Spirit.
I again told my family what I was feeling, and my son continued to express his opposition to my getting up. Finally, no longer able to resist the influence of the Spirit, I slowly got up and made my way around the rear of the auditorium to join Brother Quirce. A murmur of surprise arose from the crowd: “It’s another Mormon.”
As Brother Quirce concluded his remarks, I put my hand in my pocket to draw out the notes I had taken, but to my surprise my pockets were empty. I had left the notes at my seat. At just that moment it was my turn to take the floor.
I didn’t know where to begin. Everything I had intended to say disappeared from my mind. I began by saying that I had been a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints for 26 years and that I knew it is the only true Church on the earth, that Jesus Christ had restored it through the Prophet Joseph Smith, that Jesus is the Son of God—our Savior and Redeemer.
I don’t remember how long I talked or all the words I said. I just remember that the silence was overwhelming and that I could feel the gaze of 500 pairs of eyes upon me. When I was finished, I thanked those present for giving me an opportunity to express my beliefs and turned and left the hall. I was at peace, but my legs were shaking.
When the meeting was over and I was able to rejoin my family, my son came up to me and said, “Dad, you did the right thing. You bore a beautiful testimony, and you spoke with power and authority. Dad, I’m proud of you!”
My son knew he might have problems at school because of what I had done, but it was more important to him to know his father has a testimony he is willing to stand up for.

President Young had said, “If the people of the United States will let us alone for ten years we will ask no odds of them.”

Eight years to the day after the 1849 celebration, the Saints were in Big Cottonwood Canyon to celebrate another 24th of July. Four horsemen rode in to report that an army 2,500 soldiers strong was on the plains. The army of the United States, commanded by Colonel Albert Sidney Johnston, was ordered by President James Buchanan to crush a nonexistent Mormon rebellion.

The Saints broke camp and headed for home to prepare their defenses. Rather than flee, this time President Young declared, “We have transgressed no law, and we have no occasion to do so, neither do we intend to; but as for any nation’s coming to destroy this people, God Almighty being my helper, they cannot come here.”

Neither mobbings nor the army could turn the Saints aside from what they knew to be true. A settlement was negotiated, and the Utah War (later called Buchanan’s Blunder) was over.

Not long ago I received a note from a daughter who was leaving home to attend college. After a sweet message of thanks and appreciation, came an expression of concern about the responsibilities she would now encounter being on her own. Up until now she felt she had lived a sheltered life and had relied on her family to give her direction and strength. She was beginning to realize life is hard!
My daughter’s note made me think of the encounters I’ve had during the past several months with many people of the Church who seem to be asking, “How do I deal with the difficult challenges of life?”
Life is hard. It is a challenge. At every age life presents trials to bear and difficulties to overcome. Growing up is hard. There are often the heartaches of feeling wronged or rejected. Pursuing an education can press us to our financial, emotional, and intellectual limits. Serving a mission is not easy. It requires total dedication, spiritually and physically. The problems accompanying marriage, rearing a family, earning a living, or coping with illness, old age, and death are realities of life which we are required to meet, but with which we may be unprepared or unwilling to deal.
We will be able to face and solve these challenges more willingly and courageously when we understand that such obstacles are encountered as a natural part of living.
C. S. Lewis wrote: “The great thing, if one can, is to stop regarding all the unpleasant things as interruptions of one’s ‘own,’ or ‘real’ life. The truth is of course that what one calls the interruptions are precisely one’s real life—the life God is sending one day by day.” (They Stand Together: The Letters of C. S. Lewis to Arthur Greeves, ed. Walter Hooper, London: Collins, 1979, p. 499.)
An old Asian tale describes a prince who was reared in a castle and kept sheltered from the hardships of life. He never saw anyone who was ill. He never saw anyone who was aged. He never saw anyone die.
When the prince grew to be a young man, he desired to go out into the kingdom he ruled. As he was being carried along on a litter, he saw for the first time an old man, toothless, wrinkled, and bent with age.
The prince said to his bearers, “Stop! Wait! What is this?”
The chief bearer replied, “This is a man who is bent with age. Though you are young and strong, the time will come when you too must be bent with age.”
This disheartened the prince. His confrontation with aging was more than he could bear. He asked to be taken back to the castle.
After a few days in familiar surroundings he felt rejuvenated. He decided to venture forth again. This time as he passed by a group of men he noticed that one of them was on the ground, overcome with fever and convulsing in pain.
“What is this?” the prince asked.
“This is a man who is ill,” said the porter. “Though you are now young and strong, you too will have to suffer the problems of sickness.”
The prince was again saddened and returned immediately to the palace. But again in a few days, he wanted to visit his kingdom once more.
They hadn’t gone far from the castle when the prince saw a coffin being carried to its place of burial.
“What is this?” he asked.
When the meaning of death was explained to the inquiring young prince, he became depressed by the inevitable vision of the future. As he returned to the immediate comfort of his palace, he vowed he would never come out again.
The prince interpreted life to be an evil trick because no matter what a man did or what a man was, he had to suffer sickness, aging, and death.
Perhaps some of us feel about life the way the young prince in this fable did. We may feel that life is cruel and unfair to us, that we would like to retreat into our own shelter and never have to venture forth into the world. To do so, however, would be to deny ourselves the opportunities for growth which life and its experiences are designed to bring to us.
The Lord has made available to us a power which will turn these challenges into opportunities, a power which will enable us to understand the Apostle Peter’s declaration that such trials of our faith are indeed more precious than gold. (See 1 Pet. 1:7.)
When I was teaching an early-morning seminary class a number of years ago, we paused at the end of the year to review some principles we had learned from our study of the Book of Mormon. One young lady held up an illustration in her Book of Mormon, painted by Arnold Friberg. It depicted the two thousand sons of Helaman known as the “stripling soldiers.” (See Alma 53:22.) Then in all seriousness she asked, “Tell me, Brother Pinegar, why aren’t our young men built like this today?”
Now, I don’t know that the young men in the days of the Book of Mormon were built the way Arnold Friberg depicts them, but her question gave me the opportunity to ask, “Where did the strength of these young men come from?”
Those of you who have read the Book of Mormon are familiar with the story of the sons of Helaman. (See Alma 53; 56–58.) When their fathers were converted to the gospel, the fathers covenanted with the Lord that they would never again take up arms. But eventually their homes were threatened by hostile armies to the extent that the fathers would have to choose to fight or die. It was then that the two thousand young men, not bound by the same covenant, volunteered to defend their parents and their homes.
A prophet-general described these young men by saying, “They were exceedingly valiant for courage, and also for strength and activity; but behold, this was not all—they were men who were true at all times in whatsoever thing they were entrusted. …
“Yea, they had been taught by their mothers, that if they did not doubt, God would deliver them. …
“And they … fought as if with the strength of God; yea, never were men known to have fought with such miraculous strength; and with such mighty power.” (Alma 53:20; 56:47, 56; italics added.)
What gave the sons of Helaman their strength? Their faith in God was their “miraculous strength” and “mighty power.”
Leo Tolstoy, the famous Russian writer, declared, “Faith is the force of life.” Tolstoy had spent the major portion of his life seeking to understand life’s purpose. He found fame, position, fortune. He married well and had a family. He had experienced success by nearly every measure the world uses.
He sought answers to the meaning of life from his studies of science, philosophy, and other fields of knowledge. However, all the knowledge he acquired, honors he received, and personal accomplishments he achieved brought no lasting satisfaction. Life still seemed to him meaningless. At this point of deepest despair, Tolstoy asked the question, “How am I to live?” The answer came, “By the Law of God.”
Tolstoy was then compelled to admit that “besides the reasoning knowledge” there is “in every living man another kind of knowledge, an unreasoning one, but which gives a possibility of living—faith. … Faith is the force of life.” (How I Came to Believe, Christchurch, New Zealand: The Free Age Press, 1901, p. 40.)
Tolstoy found that one can possess about all one could desire of worldly pleasure and acclaim; but without faith in God, life will burden the heart, the mind, and even the soul.
It sometimes seems that the problems others face are not quite as hard as our own. Some of us may feel that life would not be so hard if we only had more wealth, or if we had a higher social station or better acceptance among our peers. Some may feel that if only they were married they could be truly happy. Others are seeking to be free from the responsibilities of marriage, thinking that would ease their challenges of life.
Not all challenges are related to the presence of a physical or material need. Yet the source of strength to meet all challenges remains the same: faith in God and remaining true at all times. Believing in God and seeking to live His law provides the power to successfully overcome the testing such challenges bring.
A friend of mine from South Carolina has demonstrated that even multiple problems can be overcome when one is true to his faith in God.
Laurie Polk is a dwarf. From the time of his birth, life has been a challenge. When he became old enough to go to school, he pedaled himself on a tricycle in order to move about and keep up with the other children. When his short legs kept him from playing games and participating in athletics, he busied himself in preparing for a vocation in the business world. To obtain employment, he found it necessary to persist and to prove himself. When a job opportunity finally came to him, he found joy in life through his love for his work.
Then another challenge arose. Laurie Polk, already extremely limited in his physical mobility, lost the sight in one eye. Nearly complete loss of the use of his crippled, dwarfed legs followed shortly thereafter. Then, as if that were not enough of a trial for any man, the retina of Laurie’s other eye became detached and complete blindness encompassed him.
Where did Laurie Polk gain his strength to overcome such darkness and despair? Through the power of faith in God, Laurie Polk has learned the meaning of life. In his thirty-four inch frame, he possesses a strength not unlike the sons of Helaman, through which he not only overcomes the personal challenges he encounters—he actually finds joy in living. He knows he can solve any problem by putting his life in harmony with God and serving his fellowman. He says, “With the help of the Lord there are no problems, only challenges.” Laurie Polk is now a high priest group leader in the Charleston South Carolina Stake.
From my own experience with life’s hardships I have learned that faith in God develops a personal love for Him which is reciprocated through his blessings to us in times of need. To my daughter and to all others who are meeting new or challenging times, I say: Do not fear the challenges of life, but approach them patiently, with faith in God. He will reward your faith with power not only to endure, but also to overcome hardships, disappointments, trials, and struggles of daily living. Through diligently striving to live the law of God and with faith in Him, we will not be diverted from our eternal course either by the ways or the praise of the world.
May each of us develop faith in God sufficient to fight the battles of life victoriously “with the strength of God; yea, … with [His] miraculous strength; and … mighty power.” (Alma 56:56.) We will then find the happiness we so much desire in our lives. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Daniel and his brother Joseph were perched on a bluff, looking down at an old abandoned fort. It was September 1846, and the wind blew in their faces. If they had been home in Nauvoo, Illinois, they would be able to go inside the thick, warm walls of their red-brick home. They would have something good to eat for supper. But they were not at home.
With the rest of the Saints, Daniel and Joseph’s family had been forced to leave Nauvoo by the mobs that had killed the Prophet Joseph Smith. Now they were living in a sod hut in Winter Quarters, Nebraska. It was cold, and they had very little food to eat.
“Come on, Joseph, let’s go look around,” Daniel said.
Inside the old fort, the boys saw pieces of wood on the ground and bits of iron gleaming in the dirt.
“Maybe some of these things can be useful,” Daniel said. “Let’s find something to carry them in.”
Daniel poked around in corners and looked behind old doors. He didn’t want to go back to the sod house. Their mother was pale, and she coughed more every day. It made him scared to watch her. Other people were getting sick as well.
“Over here!” Joseph called. He pulled at the end of a flat log jutting out of the ground. “We can use this to carry things on.”
“Good idea!” Daniel said, hurrying over to help pull.
With a great heave the log flew out of the ground, throwing both boys to the ground and spraying dirt everywhere. The boys laughed as they got up and brushed themselves off. Then they looked down into the hole where the log had been.
“Potatoes!” Daniel cried. “Let’s take some back to Father. He will know if they’re good to eat.”
After the boys had picked all the potatoes from the first plant, they moved on to the next one.
“Let’s try to just pull this plant out,” Daniel said.
They grabbed the base of the stalk but the plant did not budge. Joseph pulled hard but his hands slipped. He stumbled back, crushing some tall plants behind him.
“Ew,” Daniel said, pinching his nose closed. “What did you step on?” A strong smell was coming from the broken plant under Joseph’s foot.
“What is this plant?” Joseph asked.
“I don’t know, but it stinks!” Daniel said. “Let’s get away from it.”
“But onions have a strong smell, and they are good to eat.”
“Yes, I guess so. But you take it home.”
“All right,” Joseph said. He dug up the root and took the whole plant.
The boys headed home with the potatoes and the mysterious plant. When they showed the plants to their father, he was very happy. He held up the smelly plant. “This is horseradish,” Father said. “It can be used as medicine. You’ve brought us not only food to fill our stomachs but medicine to help your mother get well.”
Then the boys and their father walked back to the old fort to harvest all the potatoes and horseradish they could find.
The potatoes made nourishing soup that night, more than Joseph and Daniel had eaten in a while. The horseradish was ground down and mixed with vinegar and fed to the sick. The boys’ mother made a face when she took the medicine, but she got better.
When winter was over, the pioneers were glad to be on their way to the Salt Lake Valley and their new home.

I used to be the type of girl that wore 10 different rings on each hand, 15 or more gold and silver necklaces around my neck, and twice as many bracelets around my wrists and ankles.
My makeup was just as heavily caked on as my jewelry, and my layers of black and white clothing piled up as well.
I was not only weighed down on the outside, but on the inside as well. I was constantly depressed, and I felt down on myself for no reason.
I had been reading the Book of Mormon for some time, but as I kept piling on the jewelry, makeup, and clothing a passage from Isaiah in 2 Nephi kept running through my mind:
“In that day the Lord will take away the bravery of their tinkling ornaments, and cauls, and round tires like the moon;
“The chains and the bracelets, and the mufflers;
“The bonnets, and the ornaments of the legs, and the headbands, and the tablets, and the ear-rings;
“The rings, and nose jewels;
“The changeable suits of apparel, and the mantles, and the wimples, and the crisping-pins” (2 Ne. 13:18–22).
It goes on to say that even the daughters of Zion will be bald, and smell, and wear sackcloth instead of fine clothing.
I decided that if it might all be taken away eventually, why not try to go without it now? So little bit by little bit, more and more jewelry came off each day. I turned to more natural-looking makeup and simplified my clothing.
As the weight from my accessories on the outside came off, so did the weight on the inside. My spirit seemed to be coming uncovered and letting my personality and love show through. I had not felt so happy inside since before I can remember. My friends even commented that I was a lot more fun to be with lately.
I found myself to be much more compatible. I could hardly believe the feeling of happiness and love that seemed to encircle me.
I am so thankful for those few verses. They helped me get rid of the burdening “weight” that was inside of me and let my spirits soar higher than they ever had before.

Suddenly he remembered a cold winter evening not long after he’d received his sight. He and his father had been trapped in a mountain snowstorm. They could not see the road. Their oxen were frightened and did not know the way home.
“Son,” his father had said, “we have done all we can to find our way. Now we must ask the Lord for help.”
They then knelt in the snow and prayed. Afterward, they steered the oxen in the direction they thought was right, and the animals, without hesitation, led them home.

I went to seminary and later to institute, I attended Church activities, and I even started my own Personal Progress. I couldn’t wait to go to Young Women activities. I will never forget the hours we spent cooking, making postcards or bookmarks, decorating our classroom, or playing games, as well as the wonderful spirit of friendship between us. Each activity helped me understand my divine nature and role in life.

Gift of health. In October we heard the shocking news that our beloved stake president had suffered a heart attack and was in a coma. As the weeks passed, members of our stake prayed earnestly for him. The doctors were very concerned, but then he came out of his coma and drastically improved. He lives in my ward, and one Sunday before Christmas I walked into the chapel and was surprised to see him sitting on the stand. After the speakers gave their talks, the stake president came to the pulpit and told us that he could feel the strength of our prayers. As I looked at him, tears streaming down my cheeks, I realized his return to health was a great Christmas present for all of us.Katie B., Washington, USA