Gospel Story Finder

Illustrated by Sal Velluto and Eugenio Mattozzi
When President Wilford Woodruff was a child, he lived in Connecticut and worked in his family’s flourmill and sawmill. Both his father and grandfather worked at the mills and encouraged him to put in a full day’s work. Some days Wilford worked for 18 hours!
Father: Are you ready for another day, Son? Nothing will make you feel more satisfied than working with your hands.
When his work was done Wilford liked to relax in the peace and quiet of nature. Sometimes he and his brother Azmon would go fishing. They were known as the best fishermen in the area.
One day after work Wilford discovered an island in the middle of his fishing stream. The island was covered with wildflowers. Wilford would lie on his back among the wildflowers and gaze up at the clouds.
Wilford: I certainly love this place. It’s good to get away from the noise of life and be alone for a few minutes.
During these quiet moments Wilford often thought about Heavenly Father. He would pray earnestly to better understand the scriptures he read each day.
Wilford: There are so many different churches and religions. I just want to know God’s will.
As he grew older Wilford continued doing the things he loved as a child—fishing and praying. While traveling across the plains with Brigham Young, Wilford fished at every possible spot.
Brigham: You sure love to fish, don’t you, Brother Wilford?
Wilford: It gives me time to meditate. Sometimes it gives me dinner too!
These prayers helped Wilford become a very faithful man and a Church leader. Other people noticed his good example and gave him the nickname “Wilford the Faithful.”

Even though I wanted to serve a mission, I was still struggling to make the decision. I had a lot of personal desires that would have to be put on hold if I served. I was starting my freshman year at university, I was hesitant to leave important friendships behind, and I had always planned on joining the Tongan Armed Forces. My brother had also recently died by suicide, and the grief I felt made it hard to move forward.
I often wondered, “Is serving a mission really right for me?”
So, I took all my questions to general conference. During that conference, Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf stated, “When you earnestly seek the truth—eternal, unchanging truth—your choices become much clearer.”1
I felt the truth of that statement. Sometimes it can be difficult to trust that God will provide something better when we are so attached to our previous desires. But through fasting, prayer, and messages from general conference, I personally learned that when we trust God, we will often see that He is leading us to greater opportunities and blessings than we could have realized on our own (see Hebrews 11:40).
Despite my fears, God blessed me with the miracle of confidence to serve a mission.

Tomorrow was Christmas, and Kaiya was worried. He wasn’t worried about getting a present or what the present would be. He was worried about his friend Minato.
Kaiya and Minato played for the same soccer club. And they went to the same school. But then Minato did not come to school for three days. He missed soccer practice too. The teacher said Minato’s father was sick. To make sure others would not get sick, Minato’s whole family would have to stay at home for two weeks.
Kaiya was worried that Minato might get sick too. He asked Mama if they could check on him. They called Minato’s mother.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “We are fine. But we haven’t been able to get our kurisumasu k?ki (Christmas cake).”
Christmas cake was Kaiya’s favorite. It had fancy white frosting and colorful decorations on top. It was a special treat in Japan. He thought Minato must feel sad to miss out.
After the phone call, Kaiya said, “Mama, let’s take them our Christmas cake. And can we take them pizza too?” He knew that saba (fish) pizza was Minato’s favorite.
Mama agreed. First they ordered the pizza. Then Mama put the Christmas cake in a box. Next they gathered some snacks and juice.
“This will help them get through the next few days,” Mama said.
Papa and Kaiya went to pick up the pizza. Then they went to Minato’s house to deliver everything. They couldn’t go inside, so they set it all at the door, rang the bell, and left.
When Kaiya got home, Mama showed him a text message from Minato’s mother. “I can’t believe you brought us a cake!” it read. “The kids are really happy. Thank you very much.”
A few minutes later, the doorbell rang. It was Brother and Sister Takahashi. They were members of the Church who lived nearby.
“We brought you some higashi (rice cookies) for Christmas,” Sister Takahashi said. She held out a plate of cookies with beautiful designs.
After dinner, Kaiya and his parents ate the cookies. “Are you sad we don’t have Christmas cake?” Mom asked.
Kaiya thought about how he had helped Minato and his family. “Not really,” he said. “After all, Christmas is about giving!”

The bomb went off as suddenly and with as much impact as the one dropped on Hiroshima. I always thought they were happy; it was nearly their 18th wedding anniversary. You never think something like this can happen to you; it’s always the other guy. But this was real, and it was happening to me. My parents wanted a divorce.
Dad moved out. Then I realized what my family meant to me.
I was praying pretty regularly, and I felt I was receiving help. But one place I didn’t get any help was from my church; the members didn’t seem to care. People would say how sad it was, but they really wouldn’t listen. I felt there must be some way to hold a family together forever.
I didn’t know where to start looking, but I could always talk to Jill, a friend of mine. She said she was LDS, and she told me something about her church. We talked about things like temple marriage and the eternal family unit. I went to a family home evening at Jill’s house. Not every family sets aside one night specifically for each other. Her family members were in tune with each other; they weren’t just a bunch of people living together. Jill said she didn’t have all the answers, but she knew someone who could help me.
I became acquainted with the missionaries. Once a week I’d meet with them for a discussion. Some really hit home and helped with my problems. After reading the Book of Mormon I felt something inside hinting that maybe it was true. I attended sacrament and other Church meetings. I began to feel that maybe this church did have Jesus Christ at its head.
Then the big question came up. Did I want to become a member of the Church? I believed the Lord had chosen Joseph Smith to restore the truth, and I felt it was the Lord’s church, but I also realized I would have to live up to his standards. I thought and prayed until the answer came: My family-to-be would be an eternal family.

Just about four months ago a missionary was released from one of our Australia-New Zealand missions and in the following report talks about the Lord’s interest payments or dividends received following an investment of two years in His service. The missionary writes:

“First and foremost, I learned the importance and power of prayer—I learned to communicate with the Lord, and how to recognize His answers—even when He says no. I learned about having implicit faith and trust in the Lord, something I never had before. I learned to heed the promptings of the Holy Ghost. I also developed the gift of discernment. I had this to a degree before, but in the mission field I learned how to use it properly. Most important of all, I learned about myself, what I could really do.

“I found an ability to communicate with other people,” he continues, “and that has been a major milestone in my life. Since finishing my mission, I can walk across campus with my head held high, and look others in the eye. I am now at ease with people; I can face situations. I am not afraid to speak my piece—and I can do it appropriately. I find myself much more organized and tidy—Mom can’t believe it’s me! I can work harder and accomplish more. I have always cared for others, but now I know how to show my concern. I don’t fall apart as easily as I used to; so you could say without question, I have changed significantly, thanks to my mission.”

Now listen to this part: “As I awaited my hour of release, I received a witness that the Lord was pleased with my effort. It was thrilling when I talked to the mission president, especially when he looked me in the eye and said, ‘I am proud of you.’ That was reward enough for me. What a great feeling to look back and know that I gave the Lord the best that was in me! It brings a satisfaction and a peace that can come in no other way.”

Here’s another choice bit: “I was very nervous about my homecoming talk in sacrament meeting. I wanted to say the right things. Since that special Sunday evening, my bishop writes me down here at the “Y” [Brigham Young University] and tells me that there are three young people in the ward beginning to plan for missions as a direct result of my talk!”

And finally: “Not once have I ever regretted accepting the call to go on a mission. It is the most worthwhile thing I ever did. I am even thankful for the hard times, for they strengthened my character and helped me to at least begin to be the person my Heavenly Father would have me be. I learned so much more than I could have learned if I had stayed home. The Church is true without a doubt, and I am so thankful just to be a member. I am so thankful for the relationship which I have developed with the Savior, for it is an outgrowth of my mission and nothing else.”

The Young Women of the Niagara Falls Ward, Buffalo New York Stake, comforted some of their peers with quilted comforters, handmade. They made a dozen quilts in all, and also contributed personal items like shampoo, washcloths, towels, and deodorant to put into kits.
They then delivered the kits to teenagers in a home for those with no place to live or unsuitable family situations, the Compass House, in Buffalo. “The project was a lot of work, but it was worth every minute of it,” they said.

The Rainock home stands on an old Civil War battlefield in Mechanicsville, Virginia. But the spirit in their home and their relationships with each other are far from the chaos and anger of such a time. Peace reigns here, where the five teenagers in the family are best friends. When it comes to living and sharing the gospel, they make a great team.
No matter where they go, the Rainocks usually go together. When Gibbs, 18, painted a mural for the local elementary school as part of his Eagle Scout project, the whole family was there to support him. His brother and sisters, Lenore, Orin, Lorel, and Cora all gave a helping hand.
One day at school a bomb threat was issued, forcing students to evacuate the building. When 19-year-old Cora went outside, the first thing she did was look for her sister Lenore, 16. “That day was really cool,” Cora says, “because I got to talk to Lenore. We just walked around until we had to go inside. It’s a wonderful feeling, being like that with your sister.”
Another day Lorel, 12, accompanied Lenore and Cora on an all-day shopping trip. “We went to a basketball game, then hung out at the mall and shopped for Cora’s prom dress,” Lorel beams. “It was so much fun.”
Sharing the gospel
But for the Rainocks, being together means more than just “hanging out.” It means sharing and living the gospel together.
“Without the gospel, we wouldn’t have family home evenings,” Lenore says. “Without the gospel we wouldn’t learn about how important families are. We wouldn’t read the scriptures every morning.”
There’s no doubt that the Rainocks know how to make a difference in other people’s lives. “My friends are always asking about Mormons,” 14-year-old Orin says. So he tells them all he knows about the Church, hoping that someone will want to know more.
This is how their cousin, Mark Mailhot, learned about the gospel. That, and keeping Lenore, Cora, Gibbs, and Orin up until late at night discussing religion. When he asked to be baptized, it was one of the most memorable days in Gibbs’s life. With all the vigor of a soon-to-be missionary, Gibbs says, “I was able to baptize him.”

Life in New York City is always a challenge, but Leury Perez, a 17-year-old priest in the Inwood First Ward, New York New York Stake, seems to take it all in stride. When he’s not winning piano performance competitions, attending early-morning seminary, studying for school, organizing youth conference as a stake youth leader, or leading the local Scout troop as senior patrol leader, he helps his busy single mom, Bienvenida (below with Leury), at home.
Leury belongs to a priests quorum of one, so he carries a lot of responsibility. “I have been visiting a lot of people who can’t go to church and taking them the sacrament on Sundays. I also go home teaching,” says Leury.
Priests quorum lessons this year have explored mission preparation, and Leury credits the For the Strength of Youth pamphlet; the Duty to God program; his adviser, Jonathan Horey; and his bishop, Mark Johnson, with helping him keep his eye on the goal of a mission. “I would like to go to Japan,” says Leury. “It seems like a cool place to go.”
“Having Leury active in the priests quorum tremendously blesses my life,” says Bienvenida. “He loves the Church and is very spiritual. I want to be an example for him, but he ends up being an example to me in many ways.”
Bienvenida moved to New York from the Dominican Republic in 1974 and was baptized into the Church seven years later. Leury was born and raised in New York and joined the Church when he was 10 years old. At age 7 Leury started taking piano lessons and developed into a fine young pianist, winning several competitions. After serving a mission Leury hopes to attend college, where he plans to major in computer animation and programming and to minor in music.
What is the Perez family’s secret to keeping it all together? “Knowing the commandments helps us to stay focused on the important things in life,” says Bienvenida. “As a single mom with two jobs, I know that the Church is very important. Seeing Leury blossom in the faith gives me a sense of happiness that I cannot quantify.”

Let me tell you a story—a parable.
There once was a man who wanted something very much. It seemed more important than anything else in his life. In order for him to have his desire, he incurred [took on] a great debt.
He had been warned about going into that much debt and particularly about his creditor, the one who lent the money. But it seemed so important for him to have what he wanted right now. He was sure he could pay for it later.
So he signed a contract. He would pay it off some time along the way. He didn’t worry too much about it, for the due date seemed such a long time away. He had what he wanted now, and that was what seemed important.
The creditor was always somewhere in the back of his mind, and he made token [small] payments now and again, thinking somehow that the day of reckoning [the day he had to repay all the money] would never really come.
But as it always does, the day came and the contract fell due. The debt had not been fully paid. His creditor appeared and demanded payment in full.
Only then did he realize that his creditor had not only the power to repossess [take away] all that he owned but also the power to cast him into prison as well.
“I cannot pay you, for I have not the power to do so,” he confessed.
“Then,” said the creditor, “we will take your possessions, and you shall go to prison. You agreed to that. It was your choice. You signed the contract, and now it must be enforced.”
“Can you not extend the time or forgive the debt?” the debtor begged. “Arrange some way for me to keep what I have and not go to prison. Surely you believe in mercy? Will you not show mercy?”
The creditor replied, “Mercy is always so one-sided. It would serve only you. If I show mercy to you, it will leave me unpaid. It is justice I demand. Do you believe in justice?”
“I believed in justice when I signed the contract,” the debtor said. “It was on my side then, for I thought it would protect me. I did not need mercy then nor think I should need it ever.”
“It is justice that demands that you pay the contract or suffer the penalty,” the creditor replied. “That is the law. You have agreed to it, and that is the way it must be. Mercy cannot rob justice.”
There they were: One meting out justice, the other pleading for mercy. Neither could prevail [win] except at the expense of the other.
“If you do not forgive the debt, there will be no mercy,” the debtor pleaded.
“If I do, there will be no justice,” was the reply.
Both laws, it seemed, could not be served. They are two eternal ideals that appear to contradict one another. Is there no way for justice to be fully served and mercy also?
There is a way! The law of justice can be fully satisfied and mercy can be fully extended—but it takes someone else. And so it happened this time.
The debtor had a friend. He came to help. He knew the debtor well. He thought him foolish to have gotten himself into such a predicament. Nevertheless, he wanted to help because he loved him. He stepped between them, faced the creditor, and made this offer: “I will pay the debt if you will free the debtor from his contract so that he may keep his possessions and not go to prison.”
As the creditor was pondering the offer, the mediator added, “You demanded justice. Though he cannot pay you, I will do so. You will have been justly dealt with and can ask no more. It would not be just.”
And so the creditor agreed.
The mediator turned then to the debtor. “If I pay your debt, will you accept me as your creditor?”
“Oh yes, yes,” cried the debtor. “You save me from prison and show mercy to me.”
“Then,” said the benefactor [one who helps], “you will pay the debt to me, and I will set the terms. It will not be easy, but it will be possible. I will provide a way. You need not go to prison.”
And so it was that the creditor was paid in full. He had been justly dealt with. No contract had been broken. The debtor, in turn, had been extended mercy. Both laws stood fulfilled. Because there was a mediator, justice had claimed its full share and mercy was fully satisfied.

Across from me a woman sat sobbing. With tear-filled eyes, she told me, “I don’t know what I believe anymore.” She spoke of having struggled and prayed many days to know how to make a vitally important decision in her life, without success. She anguished, “I don’t know what to do. If you’ll tell me what to do, I’ll do it.” With her hand on the scriptures, she said, “God told us He would help us. He answers everybody else’s prayers. Why won’t He answer mine?”

Once upon a time, a very long time ago, I was your age. I didn’t worry about drugs or pornography because they were not available then. I worried about school and where it would lead. It was the season of the terrible economic depression. I worried about how to earn a living. I served a mission after I finished the university. I went to England. We traveled by train to Chicago, made a bus transfer across that city, and went on to New York, where we caught a steamship for the British Isles. While riding the transfer bus in Chicago, a woman said to the driver, “What is that building ahead?” He said, “Ma’am, that is the Chicago Board of Trade Building. Every week some man who has lost his fortune jumps out of one of those windows. He has nothing else to live for.”

Such were the times. They were mean and ugly. No one who did not live through that period will ever understand it fully. I hope with all my heart we never have anything like it again.

My brother, Colonel Leon C. Packer, was stationed at the Pentagon in Washington, D.C. A much-decorated B-24 pilot, he became a brigadier general in the Air Force.

While I was at Langley Field, the war in Europe ended, and so we were ordered to the Pacific. I spent a few days with Leon in Washington before shipping out for combat.

He told me of things he had learned under fire. He flew from North Africa on raids over southern Europe; very few of those planes returned.

On April 16, 1943, he was captain of a B-24 bomber returning to England after a raid in Europe. His plane, the Yard Bird, was heavily damaged by flak and dropped out of formation.

Then they were alone and came under heavy attack from fighters.

His one-page account of that experience says: “Number three engine was smoking and the prop ran away. Number four fuel line was shot out. Right aileron cables and stabilizer cables were shot out. Rudders partially locked. Radio shot out. Extremely large holes in the right wing. Flaps shot out. Entire rear part of the fuselage filled with holes. Hydraulic system shot out. Tail turret out.”

A history of the Eighth Air Force, published just two years ago, gives a detailed account of that flight written by one of the crew.

With one engine on fire, the other three lost power. They were going down. The alarm bell ordered that they bail out. The bombardier, the only one able to get out, parachuted into the English Channel.

The pilots left their seats and made their way toward the bomb bay to bail out. Suddenly Leon heard an engine cough and sputter. He quickly climbed back to his seat and coaxed enough power from the engines to reach the coast of England. Then the engines failed, and they crashed.

The landing gear was shorn off on the brow of a hill; the plane plowed through trees and crumbled. Dirt filled the fuselage.

Amazingly, though some were terribly wounded, all aboard survived. The bombardier was lost, but he probably saved the lives of the other nine. When smoke poured from the engines and a parachute appeared, the fighters stopped their attack.

That was not the only time Leon had crash-landed.

As we visited, he told me how he was able to hold himself together under fire. He said, “I have a favorite hymn”—and he named it—“and when things got rough I would sing it silently to myself, and there would come a faith and an assurance that kept me on course.”

He sent me off to combat with that lesson.

As part of his redeeming power, Jesus can remove the sting of death or restore the spiritual health of a struggling soul. The scriptures are filled with examples, but a young Korean sister indelibly taught me this lesson. In early 1994, while attending a stake conference in Seoul, Korea, I met Kim Young Hee, a young woman in her twenties. I noticed her beautiful countenance as she sat in a wheelchair on the stand waiting to speak. When her turn came, a brother pushed her chair to the front of the stand but off to the side of the pulpit so she could see and be seen. He gave her a microphone, and she told us her story.

As a young woman, she was healthy, had an excellent job, and was content with life. She was not a Christian. In 1987 she was in a terrible car accident that left her paralyzed from the waist down. Following her recovery in a hospital, she returned to her parents’ home wondering what life held for her. She was despondent and empty. One day a knock came at the door. Her mother answered, and two American women asked to share a message about Jesus Christ. The mother was hesitant, but the daughter heard the voices and invited them in. They were missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Kim Young Hee accepted the invitation to receive the missionary lessons. She read the Book of Mormon, prayed about its truthfulness, attended church, and received a witness of the divinity of the Restoration. She was baptized.

As she bore her testimony in stake conference, she said: “I know that Heavenly Father does not look on the outward appearance but on the heart. I also know that the true miracle is the healing within, the change of heart, the loss of pride. Although my physical body may not be healed in mortality, my spirit has felt the healing power of the Holy Ghost. And in the Resurrection, a fully restored, perfect physical body will again house my spirit, and I will receive a fulness of joy.”

In September 1975, just after the United Nations declaration of a decade for women, a reporter was interviewing me about Latter-day Saint women. “Can you hold the priesthood?” she asked. “Do you feel Mormon women need to be liberated?” I was confused, awkward, and unsure of my answers. After she left I thought about the questions she asked and decided to find answers for myself.
Today I wish I could speak with that reporter again. I would like to tell her that I know the gospel is true and that joy comes from following a plan where women and men have unique responsibilities. Married or single, rich or poor, in the marketplace or at home, a woman finds joy by following the Lord’s commandments and bringing refinement and beauty into the world. Knowing this is true, why should we heedlessly try to follow the teachings of men?

I’m not alone—my mom can get discouraged with her to-do lists, too. But one time she shared with me a little secret: some days she doesn’t write out a to-do list. Instead, she’ll wait until she finishes something, and then she’ll write it down and cross it off. At the end of the day, instead of looking at a list of all the things she still has to do, she has a different kind of list—a “done list.” And then she feels so much better.

Young manhood came to Boyd Packer about the time World War II began. After graduation from high school, he worked for a time on construction of an army hospital in his hometown. Like many young LDS men of his generation, he was unable to serve a full-time mission because of the war. In the spring of 1943, he enlisted in the Army Air Force, graduating as a pilot the following year, a few days before his twentieth birthday. He was ordered to the Pacific, and was stationed in Japan for nearly a year after the end of the war.

While in the military, he found plenty of time to study the scriptures. He read the Book of Mormon several times; today he refers to the book as “the single most powerful influence in my life.” In the spirit of the book, he also found motivation to preach the gospel of peace to the Japanese. Among those who learned of the gospel from servicemen were Tatsui Sato and his wife Chio. When the time came for their baptism, it was Boyd Packer’s privilege to perform the ordinance for Sister Sato. C. Elliot Richards, now a physician in Salt Lake City baptized Brother Sato. Later, Brother Sato’s translation work would make it possible for many Japanese to enjoy the scriptures and the temple ceremonies in their own language.

Four-year-old Tammy had never spent a night away from home. Her parents were going to a wedding and wouldn’t be home until very late, so she was going to spend the night at Grandma’s house. Tammy loved her grandma very much, but she liked being close to her mommy and daddy.
Mommy helped Tammy pack her pajamas and stuffed rhinoceros and clean clothes for the next day in the special suitcase Grandma had given her.
After they arrived at Grandma’s house, Tammy hugged Mommy and Daddy good-bye. Grandma showed Tammy where to put her suitcase.
Tammy saw that Grandma had the same picture of Jesus hanging in her bedroom that Tammy had in her own bedroom at home. It made her feel better.
Grandma fixed spaghetti for dinner. Tammy ate all of her spaghetti. They had vanilla ice cream with chocolate sauce for dessert.
After dinner, Grandma pulled out a thick book. “This is my photo album,” she said. She opened it and pointed to a picture. “This is your mommy when she was a little girl.”
Tammy liked looking at pictures of her mommy when she was little. Together, she and Grandma looked at the pictures until Tammy started to feel sleepy.
Grandma helped Tammy brush her teeth and put on her pajamas. Then Grandma listened as Tammy said her prayers.
“I have a special sleeping bag for you to use when you’re here,” Grandma said. She unrolled a sleeping bag with pink flowers on it.
“Pink is my favorite color,” Tammy said.
Grandma smiled. “I know.”
Tammy gave Grandma a big kiss before sliding into the sleeping bag. Grandma put Tammy’s rhinoceros next to her and zipped up the sleeping bag. “Good night, Tammy. Sweet dreams.”
“Good night, Grandma.” Tammy felt very cozy in the pink sleeping bag.
The next morning, Grandma made French toast for breakfast. Tammy ate two pieces and drank all her milk. Then she helped Grandma do the dishes.
“I was a little scared when I came,” Tammy said to Grandma as she dried a plate. “Then I saw the picture of Jesus and I wasn’t scared anymore.”
Grandma hugged Tammy. “I keep a picture of Jesus in my bedroom to remind me that He loves me. I’m glad you aren’t scared anymore.”
Tammy hugged Grandma back. “I am too.” She could hardly wait until Mommy and Daddy came to pick her up. She had a lot to tell them.

When the family received people at home, it was always an opportunity for Elder Ribeiro to escape and play football with friends. But when the two missionaries entered the house, Elder Ribeiro felt joy. He felt that joy every time the missionaries taught. This was a pure testimony that he still keeps in his heart. Now, looking back, he recognizes that this was the way God spoke to an 11-year-old boy. He says that when there are difficult moments in his life, he remembers the joy he felt when they joined the Church, and it still gives him a sense of peace.

Cindy Shropshal, 18, Perth. For Cindy, fellowship in the Church started with friendship in school. She became good friends with a boy in her English class—Cliff Allen. One night they went out with another classmate, who had a reputation as a drinker. Cliff insisted on an alcohol-free night. When they asked Cliff why he didn’t drink, Cindy recalls, “He started telling me about the Church. I started to feel the Spirit. I thought about it a lot that evening. I had been searching for the true church. That night I knew this was the church I should join.”

I had a sense of this truth a few months ago when I was walking one day and suddenly my sight became blurry, dark, and wavy. I was scared. Then the doctors told me, “If you don’t begin treatment immediately, you may lose your sight even in a matter of weeks.” I was even more scared.
And then they said, “You need intravitreal injections—injections right in the eye, wide-open eye—every four weeks for the rest of your life.”
That was an uncomfortable wake-up call.
Then a reflection came in the form of a question. I asked myself, “OK! My physical sight is not good, but what about my spiritual vision? Do I need any treatment there? And what does it mean to have a clear spiritual vision?”
So is my spiritual sight clear as I get my eye injections? Well, who am I to say? But I am grateful for what I see.
I clearly see the hand of the Lord in this sacred work and in my life.
I see the faith of many wherever I go who strengthen my own faith.
I see angels all around me.
I see the faith of many who don’t see the Lord physically but recognize Him spiritually, because they know Him intimately.
I testify that this gospel is the answer for everything, because Jesus Christ is the answer for everyone. I am grateful for what I can see as I follow my Savior.