Gospel Story Finder

I have a friend, Mossi White, who as an infant was one of the unwitting heroes of World War II. Mossi’s parents, and I guess Mossi herself, were part of the underground in Norway, and she acted as an unwitting secret courier carrying secret papers hidden in her diapers, where German soldiers were unlikely to look, for obvious reasons. Think of the fears her parents had to overcome. Had they developed what Christ meant when He asked us to develop a childlike nature? Is it possible that, in their childlike nature, Mossi’s parents couldn’t be frightened enough to accept that wrong was right or that there was nothing they could do to stop the evil of the Third Reich? Mossi’s father was later captured by the Gestapo and sent to a concentration camp in Poland, which he ultimately survived. Mossi’s parents saw evil, and they did what a beautiful child would do: they tried to make it all better.

Perhaps because she was raised by such parents Mossi has become a woman of great strength and courage today. She is a cancer survivor who served for years as president of the Provo School Board and as president of the American Association of School Boards, traveling and speaking extensively nationally and internationally, seeking only to bless the lives of children.

I knew before the race started that it would be tough—a six kilometer cross-country trek through the sand hills. There were plenty of ups and downs and several places where your feet sank into the sandy soil and slowed you to a walk.
I knew it would be hard because I’d helped my dad mark out the trail two days before. He is the gym teacher at my school. It’s his job each fall to choose and mark out the route for the divisional cross-country races.
“I want it tough, David, but fair,” he said to me as we tied up small blue ribbons to mark the route. “There will be good runners as well as some who race just to get an afternoon off school. I want the course tough enough to challenge the serious runners.” He grinned at me and said, “You wouldn’t want it too easy, would you?”
I grinned back and shook my head. This was the first year I could be in the race. Each year I had heard Dad talk about it, and I had heard the older kids at school say it was really tough. I was eager to compete in it.
I’m in fine form, I thought. I had been practicing for six weeks, and my legs and lungs felt ready. In gym class I easily beat the other boys at three kilometers, but we had never run the whole six kilometers. That and the hills might make a difference. And, of course, kids from five other schools would be in the race, too. I had heard rumors that one of the other schools had a really good runner in my division.
When we lined up for the first race of the meet, I knew who it was. His classmates called him Mike and urged him on. I was determined to beat him, even though he was a good 15 centimeters taller than I am. That meant his legs were a lot longer—I’d probably have to take four strides to cover the same distance he did in three!
The route began with a really steep hill with stunted oak trees scattered over it. “Why did you put the start here?” I had asked Dad when we set it up. “Do you want to scare everybody at the start?”
“That’s the idea!” He grinned, then explained that the actual reason was to make the runners spread out instead of bunching together. “They are less likely to bump into each other that way.”
Now, racing up Heartbreak Hill, I saw what he meant. Everyone was soon walking, including me! At the top I resumed running. Only one runner—Mike—was ahead of me as I followed the course-marking ribbons down the other side. I didn’t try to catch him. This side was much shorter but steeper, so I was careful to keep my legs under control.
At the bottom, the trail flattened out and wound through poplar trees. Then it took a sharp right turn through an open wire gate before twisting alongside a creek for half a kilometer or so. By the time we turned away from the creek, Mike was about a hundred meters ahead, going at a steady pace. The rest of the runners were so far behind that I couldn’t see anyone else.
We were more than halfway there, and I was beginning to wonder if I would be able to catch Mike. My legs were straining on “automatic,” but his long legs seemed to carry him effortlessly up the hills. Even the sandy places didn’t slow him down much.
My breath was getting ragged. I thought about walking for a while, but I didn’t want to let Mike increase the distance between us. My classmates were counting on me to win, and even Dad had hinted that it would be nice to see my name on the trophy. I forced myself to keep running.
Then Mike suddenly slowed and turned his head from side to side as if he were lost. He’s right where the trail branches, I thought. He can’t tell which way to go.
The trail was marked to turn right, but he turned left and picked up speed again.
I’ll catch him! was my first thought. Then, Why didn’t he follow the ribbon?
In a moment I was up to where he had turned off. There was no ribbon visible, though I’d seen Dad put one there. I took a few strides in the right direction, and there it was, fallen to the ground and half hidden by grass.
He’ll soon figure out that he’s wrong, I thought and took a couple more strides. But it was almost as if I could hear Dad’s voice: “Winning is important, but it’s not the most important.”
I stopped running. “Mike!” I called loudly. “You’re going the wrong way.”
“Is this a trick?” he shouted, turning back.
“No trick,” I called. “See? Here’s the ribbon.” I held it up and tied it to a branch for the later runners to see.
I waited for Mike to pass me, and when he was a hundred meters ahead again, I started running. Even so, I figured I had gained a small advantage, since I had rested for a moment and hadn’t gone quite as far. My breathing was easier, and slowly I managed to lessen the distance between us.
Mike went up and over the last hill. In the distance I heard a cheer as the crowd sighted him. I topped the hill and saw that he wasn’t more than 15 meters ahead.
I’m going to catch him, I thought. He was almost staggering, and I urged my legs to move faster.
The gap closed. Mike glanced back, saw me coming, and made one last effort. With less than one meter to spare, he crossed the finish line ahead of me.
I walked around slowly to catch my breath. Dad was standing near the finish line, recording names as later runners crossed, and he gave me a thumbs-up signal. I knew he didn’t mind that my name wouldn’t be on the trophy—but it sure would have been nice.
When I saw Mike recovering, I went over to congratulate him. “Good race,” I said, “but just wait till next year!”
He gave me a funny look. “Why did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Call me back to the trail. And then give me a head start.”
I shrugged. “It was only fair,” I said. “You were ahead, and the ribbon had fallen, but I knew where to go.”
“But you would have beaten me.”
“It wouldn’t have been right,” I said. “Not that way. You would have done the same thing.”
“I don’t know, really,” Mike said, his smile uncertain. “What I know for sure is that I hope I would have.”
“What I know,” Dad said, coming up to us, “is that you’re both winners in my book!”

Another common experience with light helps us learn an additional truth about the “line upon line, precept upon precept” pattern of revelation. Sometimes the sun rises on a morning that is cloudy or foggy. Because of the overcast conditions, perceiving the light is more difficult, and identifying the precise moment when the sun rises over the horizon is not possible. But on such a morning we nonetheless have sufficient light to recognize a new day and to conduct our affairs.
In a similar way, we many times receive revelation without recognizing precisely how or when we are receiving revelation. An important episode from Church history illustrates this principle.
In the spring of 1829, Oliver Cowdery was a schoolteacher in Palmyra, New York. As he learned about Joseph Smith and the work of translating the Book of Mormon, Oliver felt impressed to offer his assistance to the young prophet. Consequently, he traveled to Harmony, Pennsylvania, and became Joseph’s scribe. The timing of his arrival and the help he provided were vital to the coming forth of the Book of Mormon.
The Savior subsequently revealed to Oliver that as often as he had prayed for guidance, he had received direction from the Spirit of the Lord. “If it had not been so,” the Lord declared, “thou wouldst not have come to the place where thou art at this time. Behold, thou knowest that thou hast inquired of me and I did enlighten thy mind; and now I tell thee these things that thou mayest know that thou hast been enlightened by the Spirit of truth” (D&C 6:14–15).
Thus, Oliver received a revelation through the Prophet Joseph Smith informing him that he had been receiving revelation. Apparently Oliver had not recognized how and when he had been receiving direction from God and needed this instruction to increase his understanding about the spirit of revelation. In essence, Oliver had been walking in the light as the sun was rising on a cloudy morning.
In many of the uncertainties and challenges we encounter in our lives, God requires us to do our best, to act and not be acted upon (see 2 Nephi 2:26), and to trust in Him. We may not see angels, hear heavenly voices, or receive overwhelming spiritual impressions. We frequently may press forward hoping and praying—but without absolute assurance—that we are acting in accordance with God’s will. But as we honor our covenants and keep the commandments, as we strive ever more consistently to do good and to become better, we can walk with the confidence that God will guide our steps. And we can speak with the assurance that God will inspire our utterances. This is in part the meaning of the scripture that declares, “Then shall thy confidence wax strong in the presence of God” (D&C 121:45).
As you appropriately seek for and apply unto the spirit of revelation, I promise you will “walk in the light of the Lord” (Isaiah 2:5; 2 Nephi 12:5). Sometimes the spirit of revelation will operate immediately and intensely, other times subtly and gradually, and often so delicately you may not even consciously recognize it. But regardless of the pattern whereby this blessing is received, the light it provides will illuminate and enlarge your soul, enlighten your understanding (see Alma 5:7; 32:28), and direct and protect you and your family.
I declare my apostolic witness that the Father and the Son live. The spirit of revelation is real—and can and does function in our individual lives and in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I testify of these truths in the sacred name of the Lord Jesus Christ, amen.

When I was a young man, Elder Spencer W. Kimball (1895–1985), then a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, visited Japan and spoke at a conference I attended. I still remember his counsel: “Young people are to go on missions, and they are to be married in the temple.”
I felt prompted by the Holy Ghost and resolved that I would serve a mission and marry in the temple, even though Japan did not yet have a temple.
At the time, I was 19 and in my second year of university studies. My parents, who were not Latter-day Saints, strongly opposed my decision to serve a mission. Every day I prayed that they would give me their permission and blessing. Six months later the Lord answered my prayer.
“We are having financial difficulties, and we can no longer pay for your school and living expenses,” my parents told me. “From this point onward you will have to live on your own. We don’t mind if you go on a mission either!”
I had my parents’ blessing, so I quit school, served a Church construction mission, and then began looking for a job to raise money for a proselyting mission. With the Lord’s help, I found three jobs! Every day except Sunday for the following year, I delivered newspapers from 3:00 a.m. to 7:00 a.m., cleaned buildings from 9:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m., and worked as a cook from 5:00 p.m. to 7:30 p.m. Then I would change clothes and work nights as a district missionary.
When I was 22, I was called to the Northern Far East Mission. Through my mission service I experienced the greatest joy I had ever felt, had many opportunities to come to know God’s love, and received many blessings. My family was also blessed during my service when my parents resolved their financial challenges.

During my last year of junior high school, it was my privilege to be responsible for taking care of the flag at our school. Each morning just before school began, the bugle sounded and we would raise the flag on the pole out in front of the building. All of the students would then stand at attention in their classrooms and repeat the Pledge of Allegiance to our country.
We really cared for the flag—it meant something special to us! Whenever it rained, we would be excused from class to run out, lower the flag, and carefully put it away until the weather was clear to display it again. Each night before leaving school, the flag would be lowered, gently folded in a triangle with only the white stars on a blue background visible, and put away until the next day.

Here is another trial. There have always been a few who want to discredit the Church and to destroy faith. Today they use the Internet.
Some of the information about the Church, no matter how convincing, is just not true. In 1985, I remember a colleague walking into my business office in Florida. He had a Time magazine article entitled “Challenging Mormonism’s Roots.” It spoke of a recently discovered letter, supposedly written by Martin Harris, that conflicted with Joseph Smith’s account of finding the Book of Mormon plates.19
My colleague asked if this new information would destroy the Mormon Church. The article quoted a man who said he was leaving the Church over the document. Later, others reportedly left the Church.20 I’m sure it was a trial of their faith.
A few months later, experts discovered (and the forger confessed) that the letter was a complete fraud. I remember really hoping that those who had left the Church because of this deception would find their way back.

Several years ago my oldest grandson who had been a deacon for a year came to me and said, “Grandpa, I have been a hundred percenter ever since I was ordained a deacon a year ago.” I said, “What do you mean by a hundred percenter?” Of course I knew, but he responded, “I haven’t missed a sacrament meeting, Sunday School, or priesthood meeting since I was ordained a deacon.”
I congratulated him and said, “John, if you will continue to be a hundred percenter until you are old enough to go on a mission, I will finance your mission.” He smiled and said, “I’ll do it.”
I thought I was perfectly safe, but he set about to be a hundred percenter. I remember on two occasions how he disciplined himself in order to accomplish his undertaking. One time his uncle invited him to go for a trip with him and his boys where they would be gone over Sunday. John said, “Is there any place I can attend my meetings on Sunday?” and as he was told there was not, he said, “No, I can’t go. I am going to be a hundred percenter,” and therefore sacrificed a lovely trip to the ocean and an island on which they were going to celebrate.
Another time near a weekend he broke his leg. The first thing he asked his doctor was, “Will I be able to attend Church on Sunday? I have to be a hundred percenter.” He came, of course, on crutches.
When he became 19 years of age, he said, “Grandpa, I have been a hundred percenter ever since we made that deal.” I was very happy to finance him on his mission. This achievement has been a great influence in his life. It is not so difficult for him to discipline himself and do those things which are right for him to do and which will bring him success.

I will never forget the interview I had with my bishop as I was preparing for my mission. The bishop happened to be my father. We were together a great deal of the time. He could have interviewed me in our home, in the barn, in the field, or in our car, or any other place where we spent time together. Dad wanted to make this a special occasion, one that would be remembered.
One day I received a telephone call from him. He wanted to set up an appointment with me for an interview. I thought that strange because he had never called me before to set up an appointment for anything. We arranged the time to meet in the bishop’s office. When the appointed time arrived, I found his office clean and orderly without papers on the desk, which was strange because in normal circumstances it would be covered with papers. But this time, all that was on the desk were the scriptures. The interview resulted in a little scripture study between myself and my father.
As near as I can remember, the procedure was as follows: He pushed the scriptures over to my side of the desk and asked me to turn to Doctrine and Covenants 59:6 and read: “Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. Thou shalt not steal; neither commit adultery, … nor do anything like unto it.”
We then discussed what it meant to be morally clean. The discussion centered on cleanliness of thought. If our thoughts remain clean and pure, we would never commit acts that would prevent us from serving in the mission field. All too common among young men today is the idea that they can sin a little, live it up with the boys, and then settle down for a short season before they are ready to be called so they can qualify themselves for missionary service. What fallacy there is in that philosophy!
The discipline contained in daily obedience and clean living and wholesome lives builds an armor around you of protection and safety from the temptations that beset you as you proceed through mortality. You can leave home with a clear conscience. Now, there may be some of you who have already given in to the ways of the world. The only way to regain your self-respect is the process called repentance. Always remember that with the help of your bishop there is a way back. Do not hesitate to use it!
Next we turned and read from the Doctrine and Covenants, section 89, verses 18 through 21:
“And all saints who remember to keep and do these sayings, walking in obedience to the commandments, shall receive health in their navel and marrow to their bones;
“And shall find wisdom and great treasures of knowledge, even hidden treasures;
“And shall run and not be weary, and shall walk and not faint.
“And I, the Lord, give unto them a promise, that the destroying angel shall pass by them, as the children of Israel, and not slay them. Amen.”
The discussion which followed centered around the importance of keeping our physical bodies healthy, wholesome homes for our eternal spirits. Harmful drugs and drinks destroy both the mind and the body and make us unfit for the guidance of the Spirit of the Lord.
We read other scriptures concerning sustaining the prophets and obedience to living the laws of the Lord. After each discussion, I was required to respond as to whether my life was in harmony with this principle.
Then finally we turned and read together Doctrine and Covenants 110, verses 1 through 4:
“The veil was taken from our minds, and the eyes of our understanding were opened.
“We saw the Lord standing upon the breastwork of the pulpit, before us; and under his feet was a paved work of pure gold, in color like amber.
“His eyes were as a flame of fire; the hair of his head was white like the pure snow; his countenance shone above the brightness of the sun; and his voice was as the sound of the rushing of great waters, even the voice of Jehovah, saying:
“I am the first and the last; I am he who liveth, I am He who was slain; I am your advocate with the Father.”
We then talked about the eternal hope that we have in the atonement of our Lord and Savior, and the necessity of partaking of sacred ordinances required for all of our Father in Heaven’s children before we can receive the greatest gift he has given to us, the gift of life eternal.
Dad then filled out my missionary recommendation form and had me sign it. Standing, he gave me a warm handshake and a sincere congratulations for being worthy to serve a full-time mission. I left his office with a feeling of exhilaration. I had passed one of the most important tests of my life. I had been deemed worthy to be a full-time missionary, which signified the approval of my father, my bishop, and my Lord and Savior. As I left the office, in my mind I made a commitment to myself that I would always live worthy to pass an interview held with one of my priesthood leaders.
The interview I had with my bishop prepared me for three basic ingredients I needed to serve a mission:
First, I needed gospel knowledge as contained in the scriptures and a testimony as to their truthfulness. Daily prayer and study were essential for my preparation to serve.
Second, personal righteousness is a fundamental requirement.
Third, my bishop’s interview created in me even a greater desire to be a full-time missionary.

Tracy forgot about the Golden Rule when her sister Tara became sick and missed a few days of school. Tracy was jealous of the extra attention and care Tara received. She reacted by ignoring Tara. Several hours without her favorite friend’s company, however, made Tracy realize she should be giving Tara the most attention. “I finally put myself in Tara’s shoes,” Tracy said. “I would feel terrible if she treated me the way I was treating her.” Tracy played quiet games with Tara and told her of the day’s events at school.

It began with the first letter we received from my mother. She and my father were brand-new missionaries in the Florida Tallahassee Mission. She told of a recent conference they had attended. As everyone was saying good-bye at the conclusion of the meetings, she noticed that her companion was missing. Hearing male laughter, she followed the sound to a classroom and found herself in the midst of a leg-wrestling tournament, which my dad had organized. “I got there just in time,” she wrote, “to see some 20-year-old elder flip your dad across the room.” So much for my worry that a mission might turn Dad into some sort of somber old gentleman.

4. The Laying on of Hands for the Gift of the Holy Ghost
Is this included in your articles of faith? If so, do you live by it?

We were in a meeting the other day. There was a very important matter being discussed, and it was discussed at great length. Finally a course of action was decided upon. As the meeting concluded, they called on Elder Harold B. Lee to offer the closing prayer. He stood, and it was an inspiring thing to be present and hear him pray. He said words to this effect: “We thank thee, Father, that the light which is due this, thy chosen servant [referring to the member of the First Presidency who had led the deliberations and had proposed the course of action], has been apparent here today and that we are witnesses of thy love and thy revelation to thy servants.”

In October 1946 General Conference, following the end of World War II, President George F. Richards of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles related the following experience: "A few years ago...I had a remarkable dream. I have seldom mentioned it to other people. I dreamed a group of my own associates found ourselves in a courtyard where, around the outer edge of it, were German soldiers-and Fuhrer Adolph Hitler was there with this group, and they seemed to be sharpening their swords and cleaning their guns, and making preparations for a slaughter of some kind, or an execution. We knew not what, but evidently we were their objects. But presently a circle formed and this Fuhrer and his men were all within the circle, and my group and I were circled on the outside; and he was sitting on the inside of the circle with his back to the outside, and when we walked around and I got directly opposite to him, I stepped inside the circle and walked across to where he was sitting, and spoke to him in a manner something like this: "I am your brother. You are my brother. In our heavenly home we lived together in love and peace. Why can we not so live together here on earth?" And it seemed to me that I felt in myself, welling up in my soul, a love for that man, and I could feel that he was having the same experience, and presently he arose, and we embraced each other and kissed each other, a kiss of affection...I think the Lord gave me that dream. Why should I dream of this man, one of the greatest enemies of mankind, and one of the wickedest, but that the Lord should teach me to love my enemies, and I must love the wicked as well as the good?" Remember, Elder Richards made these remarks not one full year after the end of hostilities in World War II. Present in his audience were, undoubtedly, servicemen and women who had been injured, even maimed for life. Widows and children of the slain may have been included among those who heard his words that day. Forgiveness and peace are not easy messages. But they are the message of the Savior nonetheless.

A treasured memory for them both was when they heard Elder LeGrand Richards, who was the visiting General Authority, speak at their first stake conference. My Father said he spoke about eternal marriage and about telling your wife you love her every day. My Mother said she was so impressed with the power with which he spoke.
They have been faithful members, raising six children, including five sons who served missions, and they are now seeing their grandchildren serve. And yes, my Father still tells my Mum that he loves her every day!

The story is told that toward the end of World War II an allied general came to the front lines one night to inspect his troops. As he walked along he would point out into no-man’s-land and say “Can you see them? Can you see them?”

Finally, someone said, “General, we can see nothing. What do you mean?” He said, “Can’t you see them? They’re your buddies; they are the ones who gave their lives today, yesterday, and the day before. They’re out there alright, watching you, wondering what you are going to do; wondering if they have died in vain.”

I was raised in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, but in college I decided that I didn’t need the Church anymore. I began a shallow, selfish search for “truth” in other places. Finding no answers that brought me peace or joy, I fell into a deep spiritual darkness. I felt that I would never be happy again.
However, I could still see that I had been happier when I was active in the Church. I began to go through the motions of Church activity, hoping to find some deliverance from the gloom that controlled my life. But my halfhearted efforts did not accomplish much. I focused on my studies, hoping they would distract me from the emptiness I felt. This helped temporarily, but it provided no real answer.
After stumbling around and realizing I was going nowhere, I decided to take a break from school and to travel. I had saved a little money but not enough to last very long. Before leaving, I resolved to exercise some real faith and pay tithing on my modest savings. This wasn’t easy. I would be far from home, and soon I would be broke. Still, I hoped there was a God, and I knew that I would need His help.
I wrote a check for my tithing, sent it to my bishop, packed my Book of Mormon, and set off. Almost immediately I felt the warmth of the Spirit. I was amazed to feel my doubt and sorrow replaced with understanding and optimism. From Idaho to Washington, D.C., members of the Church reached out to me and, more important, helped me to develop faith and righteous desires. It seemed like home was all around me.
After a short time, I knew I would be cutting my travels short—not for lack of money but because a much better journey awaited me. Returning home, I met with my bishop and stake president. With their help, I was soon serving the Lord as a missionary.
Now each time I pay my tithing or meet with Church leaders, I remember the “beginning” of my true conversion. Since then I have experienced ups and downs, but I have worked to remain spiritually strong. I will always be grateful for Heavenly Father’s accepting my meager offering of faith and extending His loving arm to me.

Early in my Church service, Elder Harold B. Lee taught this lesson when he came to organize a new stake in the district where we were living. Elder Lee asked me, as a newly sustained bishop, if I would join him at a press conference. There an intense young reporter challenged Elder Lee. He said to him, “You call yourself a prophet. When was the last time you had revelation, and what was it about?” Elder Lee paused, looked directly at him, and responded in a sweet way, “It was yesterday afternoon about three o’clock. We were praying about who should be called as the president of the new stake, and it was made known to us who that individual should be.” The reporter’s heart changed. I will never forget the Spirit that came into that room as Elder Lee bore his powerful witness of revelation that can be received by those faithfully seeking to do the Lord’s will.

Another athlete, Ed Maisey, a returned missionary from the Korea Seoul Mission, had a rather unique experience—he wrestled his way into discussions! At one time Ed was assigned to work on a military base. The missionaries were not allowed to actively proselyte on the base, although they could teach the gospel if approached. Ed became the assistant coach to the high school wrestling team, and through this contact met many people who later received the discussions.
While in Seoul he was introduced to Olympic medalist Yong Jung Mo. They became friends, and Ed worked out with Mr. Yong and the national team. As thrilling as that must have been, though, Ed contends that his most rewarding experiences were in proselyting. Wrestling was simply another tool for opening doors.
Ed earned many championships following his mission: Unfortunately, he suffered a dislocated shoulder during the National Collegiate Athletic Association finals. He still did exceptionally well, according to Ben Ohai, his assistant coach. During the round in which he was injured while wrestling the defending champion, the score was 11-14. He took sixth in the nation.
Ed was selected BYU student athlete of the year for 1978–79 and entered Nebraska’s dental school this fall as a National Collegiate Athletic Association post-graduate scholar.
Although some missionaries do return and do not continue in sports, it is usually due to a change in interests rather than inability. Ed, Mark, and Lance are convinced that any athlete who serves a mission will be able to regain his previous ability upon diligently applying himself.

During my world literature class one day, I felt the Spirit prompt me to leave and go to the restroom. I was in the middle of taking a test, and since it was only the second day of school, I didn’t want to make a bad impression on my teacher. But the longer I sat there, the more I felt I needed to leave. So I got a pass to go to the restroom. Several girls were there, including my friend Kelsey. As I was washing my hands, I saw a girl about my age with tear-stained eyes standing in the corner. No one seemed to notice her.
I smiled at her, and all of a sudden I could feel exactly what was wrong. "Is everything okay?" I asked.
The girl gave no answer. I knew immediately what to say, almost as if the Spirit were there saying it. "You’re new, aren’t you?" I asked.
Almost instantly she sobbed and nodded but still didn’t say anything. The Spirit told me she was having a hard time making friends. "Are you having a hard time making friends here?" I asked.
Then she spoke with relief that someone actually cared enough to notice her. My friend Kelsey and I quickly introduced ourselves, and Kelsey invited the girl to sit with her at lunch.
This made me realize the truth of the scripture, "I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you" (John 14:18). The Lord always knows when we need Him, but sometimes it’s through other people that He comforts us.

Colin (11), Padhraig (10), Cathal (7), and Cillian (6) cherish the memories of attending the open house and the dedication of the Preston England Temple with their father (Jarlath) and mother (Róisin). Each boy was impressed to see the large baptismal font and the twelve oxen holding it, as well as the beautiful chandeliers.
To arrive in time for the dedication of the temple, the family had to get up very early in the morning and drive to the ferry port. After waiting in line, their father drove them onto the passenger/car ferry. Once on the ferry, they got out of the car, went to the upper decks, and traveled over three hours before arriving in Wales. Then they drove off the ferry and rode for another two hours to the temple. Everyone agreed that their long journey was well worth it.

I tend to think I’m exempt from Christ’s divine help when I’m having a hard time. I sometimes think that He, a sinless and perfect Savior, could never understand what it’s like to struggle.
I remember especially feeling this way as a missionary. It took a big struggle for me to realize that Christ knows what it’s like to have a hard time.
I thought I was at the peak of my mission—I was training a new missionary, preparing for a baptism, and getting the hang of the whole missionary thing. I felt so happy.
But I didn’t recognize the stress and anxiety building up inside me.
I was lying down to sleep one night when I began spiraling into the second panic attack I’d ever had in my entire life—the first having occurred nine years previously. Nine years!
Why, after only a small period of anxiety as a child, was it suddenly resurfacing now?
I stubbornly tried to continue my mission as normal, thinking I could fix my own problems.
While I wrestled with my mental health, someone shared with me an insight they had while reading about the Savior’s experience in Gethsemane.
Jesus said, “My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death.” And then the Savior prayed, “O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt” (Matthew 26:38–39).
Have you ever felt the heaviness of your own sorrow? Have you ever asked God, “Is there another way?”
In perfect willingness, perfect obedience, and perfect love, our Redeemer accepted the will of the Father. He was perfect because He was sinless, but He still felt pain, sorrow, and loneliness.
After all, He descended below all things—so He could lift us up.
Realizing that Jesus Christ perfectly understood what I was feeling as I struggled with anxiety, I finally allowed Him to help me carry my burdens.
My anxiety didn’t suddenly go away. I still had hard days. But being close to Christ gave me enduring joy anyway because I knew He was right there with me, saying, “I know. I know perfectly how you feel.”
During this experience, Christ became my closest confidant.