Gospel Story Finder

Living the gospel also brings Caroline great joy. She loves Jesus Christ and wants to follow Him, which helped her to understand the importance of being baptized. “I knew I needed to obey God’s commandments, that I needed to make covenants with Him and follow the right path.”

By being baptized, she knew she’d be following the right path—the path Jesus showed us. For her, being baptized “felt so amazing.” Through her desire to make and keep covenants and her desire to serve others and bring them joy, she shows she wants to follow Jesus Christ.

On March 27, 1836, Joseph dedicated the Kirtland Temple. Only two years later he and other faithful followers were forced to flee to Far West, Missouri, because of persecutions.

Illustrations by Priscilla Lamont
“Mom,” Enzo asked, “can I have a cake shaped like a turtle for my birthday party?”
Mom smiled. “Probably. But your birthday isn’t for five months!”
“I know. Can we have a water fight at my birthday party too?”
“Sure,” Mom said.
“It will be fun! We can wear swimsuits!” Enzo said.
“That does sound fun.”
“Can I invite Matt and David and Arlo?” Enzo asked.
Mom paused. “Well, we can send them invitations. But we’re moving to Texas soon, remember? And your friends will stay in Arizona.”
Enzo frowned. He didn’t want his friends to miss his birthday! “Then who will come to my party?”
Mom gave him a big hug. “You will make friends in Texas too. When it’s your birthday, we’ll invite them. We will have a fun party with your new friends.”
“And have a turtle cake?”
Mom laughed. “And have a turtle cake.”
Enzo felt a little better. But he was still worried.
That night Enzo prayed with Mom. He asked Heavenly Father to help him find friends in Texas. Then Enzo thought about Uncle Carlos. Uncle Carlos lived in Texas! He was lots of fun to play with. Enzo had an idea.
“Mom, can I invite Uncle Carlos to my party?”
“That’s a great idea!” Mom said.
“Can I call him right now?”
Mom laughed. She pulled out her phone and called Uncle Carlos.
Enzo heard the phone ring, and ring, and—
“Hello?” It was Uncle Carlos!
“Hi, Uncle Carlos,” said Enzo. “Can you come to my birthday party? It’s in September.”
“That sounds great!” said Uncle Carlos. “I will put it on my calendar. I’m excited to see you in Texas!”
Enzo was so happy. He could hardly wait for his birthday. He already had a great friend in Texas.

Not long after being called as a stake patriarch, one of us gave a 93-year-old sister her patriarchal blessing. The words pronounced in that blessing were a heaven-sent message of approval for a life well lived in valiant service to the Lord. More than reassurance, she was given additional counsel and direction for her life both here and hereafter. She was also told that the long-awaited reunion with her beloved eternal companion who had passed away years ago was not far off. Both she and the immediate family members present wept and embraced and celebrated her willingness to seek this revelation from the Lord.

Shortly thereafter, this stalwart sister passed through the veil.

I treasure the memory of that day when I began more fully to understand the power of a patriarchal blessing in whatever season of life it might be received.

And on a summer’s eventide,
For what they did declare
He and his brother Hyrum died
When mob men stormed their stair.
They sealed their witness with their life
And glory in their afterlife.
We too have a purpose in our strife
Because of Joseph’s prayer.

As I sat there on the porch, I continued thinking about Cindy’s question. In one of our Primary lessons we learned that the Holy Ghost is the Spirit of truth. Our teacher said that He would help us not to lie. I guessed I needed help with that too. I remembered the day Mom had come into the kitchen right after I had accidentally knocked the sugar bowl to the floor. Before she could even speak, I said, “Shauna made me do it.”
“Janna, look out the window,” she told me. “What do you see?”
I saw Shauna swinging on a rope hanging from the tree. I said, “That’s how she made me do it. I was thinking about hurrying out to swing with her, and it made me bump into the table.”
“Janna.” Mom tilted my face toward hers. “None of us breaks dishes on purpose. We all have accidents. It isn’t the sugar bowl that counts. It’s you. More important to me than all the dishes in the cupboard—even the crystal glasses—is a little girl who tells the truth.”
I looked down at the floor. I knew I should’ve said I was sorry, but I didn’t. Instead, I asked, “Don’t dishes sometimes get too close to the edge and fall off by themselves?”
“Oh, Janna Lynn,” Mom said, and I wished she’d spanked me instead of looking at me the way she did. It would have made me feel a lot better.

By then, running had become a way of life. She challenged herself more, pushed herself harder, and then, in 1978, faced the two greatest challenges of her life. One challenge was to run completely across the United States. The other was to accept the message of the Mormon missionaries.

She met the missionaries just before she left for the United States and asked them to come back because “I was frantic with last-minute preparations.”

In some real though not yet understood ways, that gruelling run had prepared her for the gospel. The open road “opened my mind and heart to the hidden reaches of a hidden existence. I was ready to discover myself.” Beyond the fear of failure and the pain of the hard work lay an unshakable sense of self, a self that honored the truth and despised sham. And the “purifying solitude” of long runs had given her an instinct for joy.

The chance to plunge into another layer of self-discovery came within a month of her return to Johannesburg. Two missionaries—different ones—called on her. She participated enthusiastically in the six discussions, “sure that they would keep coming indefinitely since I so greatly enjoyed their visits.” But when they asked her if she would be baptized on the next Saturday, “I was completely stunned, I made sure that I was lousy the next Saturday—and the next, and the next.”

But she knew too much about herself now to avoid this second great challenge. “I knew I was just making excuses. I also knew that if I choice not to join the Church I would lose my way again, for I knew there was light in my life that hadn’t been there before.”

The clarity of the decision she must make did not make it any easier. She would have to be baptized alone, the only member of her family to join the Church. She would be changing her life-style for a third time. These things would hurt. But she prayed and “felt the Spirit of Heavenly Father telling me that I must do the right thing.” The Spirit also whispered “that only I could make the choice.”

She made her decision. On 30 September 1978 at 4:30 P.M., she was waiting in Ramah Chapel for her turn to be baptized. It was emotionally a repeat of her experience in Los Angeles. “There were many people being baptized with me. They all looked so calm, so sure, and so radiantly happy. I was very nervous and very unsure and, at that moment, very unhappy. Had I prepared properly? Was I doing the fight thing? It was an enormous commitment—would I be able to keep it?”

And was joining the Church worth it? Again, yes! “I know that I made the right decision. I know there will be many times when I will pray for strength merely to take the next step, but I knew, after I was baptized, that I could get to the end of the road. This is the most important journey of my life.”

Since her baptism she has served as Sunday School secretary, Relief Society social relations leader and visiting teacher, and—naturally—as athletic adviser to the Activities Committee.

Elise wanted to dress up. She put on Dad’s shoes and a fake red nose.
I’m a funny clown.
Elise ran back to her room. She put on a yellow construction hat and grabbed a plastic hammer.
Elise hammered the floor before she ran back to her room.
I’m a strong builder.
Elise put on a glittery purple and silver gown and twirled out of her room.
Elise liked being a princess. She stayed dressed in her gown for the rest of the day.
I’m a beautiful princess.
At bedtime Elise changed into her favorite green pajamas. She walked out of her room and sat on Mom’s lap.
I am Elise. I am a child of God.

“It has changed how I see my Sunday experience, but maybe more importantly, it has changed how I see my family experience. We strengthen each other and grow together all week long.” —Kim Peterson, Utah, USA

Moving? Tomorrow? It can’t be time already, thought eleven-year-old Sarah as she folded the last of her mother’s dish towels and put them into a barrel. The family had been planning for the past few weeks to leave Kirtland, Ohio, for Missouri with some of the other Saints, but they didn’t know exactly what day they would leave. This morning Sarah’s father had come into the kitchen and told his family that tomorrow was moving day.

Just a month ago, when spring was in its glory throughout the Kirtland area, Father had told Sarah that she must do all that she could to help Mother get ready to move. However, Sarah had tried to convince herself that they wouldn’t have to do it. How can I leave Kirtland? she’d wondered. We’ve never lived anywhere else.

Kirtland was the place where Sarah and her brother John and sister, Laura, had all been born. Another brother, two years younger than Sarah, had even been buried in Kirtland shortly after he was born. It was the place where Sarah and her parents had been taught and baptized by Brother Sidney Rigdon. Brother Rigdon had been their minister when they had all belonged to the Campbellite Church, and the whole family had loved him. They had been glad to read the Book of Mormon when he had brought it to their home. It was only right that Brother Rigdon had baptized them when they were sure that the gospel was true.

Sarah had been excited about turning twelve in the fall and going with her best friend, Mary, to Sister Eliza Snow’s school for girls. But Sister Snow’s family and Mary’s family had already moved to Missouri, so there would be no school. She had hoped that someone else would teach the school once things settled down a little. But things hadn’t settled down.

The rest of that day and night went quickly. Suddenly it was daybreak and time to leave their home. When the wagon was packed, the whole family climbed aboard, with Father sitting on the front seat to drive the oxen he had bought only last week. John, looking very big for a seven-year-old, sat next to Father. Five-year-old Laura and Sarah sat in the back of the wagon with Mother. They all watched Kirtland grow smaller as they joined the other wagons leaving the city.

The first few weeks of the trip seemed especially long because of the slow pace of the oxen. John and Laura had been excited about the trek at first, but even they calmed down as time passed. One night Sarah was awakened by the low voice of her father. There was something in the sound of his voice that frightened her. She crawled out from under her blanket and drew back the wagon flap.

The worried look on Father’s face eased a little when he saw her. “Sarah, I need your help. Your mother has a high fever. Can you go to the river and fill the bucket with some water?”

Sarah was afraid. Mother had never been sick! She had always been the one to take care of others when they were ill. Quickly Sarah filled the bucket and returned to the wagon. All night long she and Father took turns wiping her mother’s face with damp cloths to keep her cool. Mother was too sick to say a word, and this really upset Sarah. By morning Sarah realized that she must take care of her brother and sister and fix whatever breakfast she could put together. She knew that she must remain calm so that John and Laura would not be frightened by Mother’s illness. Quietly she woke the children and told them what had happened.

“Will you go and get some small pieces of wood to start the fire, Laura?” she asked. “You’re really good at finding wood.” Turning to her little brother, she said, “John, if you can get some larger pieces, we can build a fire together.”

John crawled out from under his blanket and began to work without complaining. Sarah was amazed at how helpful her sister and brother were. They seemed to know exactly what to do.

Sarah cooked breakfast and quickly cleaned everything up. Mother didn’t seem much better, so Sarah stayed in the back of the wagon and put soothing, damp cloths on her mother’s face. Father had been able to fix a lid on a bucket so that the water didn’t spill with the wagon’s movement. Because the children helped so much, the family was able to keep up with the company.

Sarah spent every spare minute planning and cooking meals, keeping their clothes washed, and tending Mother. Laura and John gathered wood each night for cooking, and they helped in any other way they could. John found some empty wooden spools, and he and Laura were busy making a surprise for the family.

One morning Sarah awoke and realized that her family had been gone from Kirtland for six weeks! Mother was almost well, but she still let the children take care of things together. How proud she was of Sarah’s cooking and John and Laura’s fires.

“Do you know what’s happened to us, Sarah?” Mother said softly. “With the Lord’s help, we are relying on each other now. This is what we’re supposed to do. If I hadn’t been sick, you children would never have been able to show your father and me the many things you can do for our family.”

Before Sarah could reply, John and Laura climbed into the wagon holding something under a cloth. Father climbed in behind them and said, “I don’t know what these two are up to, but they made me stop everything to come and see what they’ve made.”

The children uncovered a checkerboard made from a weathered board, and a set of tiny checkers made from the spools John had found. Laura beamed and said, “John rubbed charcoal on some spools to make the black pieces, and I colored the other ones with some berries we found along the way. We thought everyone could take turns playing checkers.”

Sarah felt tears come to her eyes. She would miss Kirtland and its happy memories, but she was taking with her the best part of those memories—her family.

“You are never alone when you have faith in Jesus Christ and Heavenly Father.” I have heard phrases like this many times, but I never before understood them to the depth that I do today.
Every person eventually faces the inevitable fact that one day he or she may be alone. For me, due to a divorce, children moving out, and early retirement, this day came sooner than I had anticipated. The most excruciating obstacle I had to overcome was living with this sudden quiet and emptiness after spending years of precious time with family and friends, spouse and children, and fellow employees.
While I enjoyed the visits with my home and visiting teachers and other friends, most of the time I felt completely alone, and I didn’t like it. The constant stillness eventually evoked an uncontrollable stream of tears. I had nowhere to turn for comfort except on my knees in prayer.
After I cried to Heavenly Father for what seemed to be hours, a transition started to take place inside of me, and I felt Heavenly Father’s Spirit. For a moment my tears subsided as I absorbed His love piercing my soul. I knew He understood my sadness, and that allowed me to feel comfortable enough to cry even longer, just as a child who has fallen cries when seeing his or her mother. As I buried my head in what I imagined to be Heavenly Father’s lap, I knew He was willing to comfort me for as long as I needed. Occasionally, I had some fleeting thoughts of being too old to be acting this way. However, I knew that it didn’t matter to Heavenly Father how old or young I was. I just knew that He understood me and would always be there for me.
Today, although I would still prefer to be married, I have come to enjoy the quiet. I listen to the ocean waves and watch the sunset. I literally stop and smell the roses. I listen and act according to the guidance of the Spirit. I am not afraid to be alone because I am not alone as long as I believe in Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. I see the Spirit of Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ in most everything I do.
“Through faith in Jesus Christ and Heavenly Father, you are not alone.” Those words have a new and profound meaning deep in my heart today, and I know without a doubt that I am never alone. I am His daughter, and He loves me.

This story took place in the USA.
Josiah was excited. Today was Daddy’s birthday! Mama put colorful streamers in the kitchen. She made a special birthday cake too.
“We should give him presents,” Josiah said.
“Yeah!” said his little sister, Madeline. “But what?”
“I have an idea.” Josiah went to the shed. He took a few pieces of wood and glued them together to make a tiny bench.
“I picked Daddy some flowers from his garden!” Madeline held up the flowers. “Do you think he’ll like them?”
Josiah nodded yes. “I can’t wait for him to see his presents!”
That afternoon, Josiah and Madeline sang “Happy Birthday” and ate cake with Daddy.
“Time for presents!” Josiah said. He gave Daddy his gift.
Daddy unwrapped the paper. “Wow! You did a great job. Thank you!” Daddy gave Josiah a hug.
Then Madeline gave Daddy the flowers.
“Thank you so much!” Daddy smiled. “These are beautiful.”
Soon it was time to clean up. “Josiah, can you help clear the table?” Mama asked.
“Sure,” said Josiah. He grinned and carried the dishes to the sink.
“I can help too,” said Madeline.
Daddy smiled big. “I feel so happy when you two are helping and being kind to each other. I know it makes Jesus happy too. That is the best present of all!”
Later Josiah and Madeline played with their toys. Josiah made a tall tower out of building blocks. It was almost as tall as he was! But then Madeline knocked it over.
“Hey!” Josiah said. “You messed up my tower!” He took a toy from Madeline.
“That’s mine!” Madeline yelled.
Daddy came over. He was frowning. He reminded them to take turns with their toys.
When Daddy left, Josiah asked, “Did you see Daddy’s face? He looked sad.”
“Why was he sad?” asked Madeline.
“He said the best present was for us to be kind,” Josiah said. “But we forgot.”
“Oh.” Madeline looked at the floor. “I’m sorry for knocking over your tower.”
“It’s OK,” Josiah said. “Sorry for getting mad. Let’s be kind for the rest of the day.”
“But what if we forget?” Madeline asked.
“Then we have to say sorry and try again to be nice,” said Josiah.
Josiah and Madeline cleaned up the blocks. Then they played a new game. When Daddy walked by, he smiled.
“I think we did it!” Madeline whispered to Josiah. “We gave Daddy a great present!”
Josiah smiled. “Yeah, we did. And it’s a present for Jesus too!”
How did Daddy feel when Josiah was kind to Madeline?
Illustrations by Jeff Harvey

When I was seven years old, my mom and dad befriended a less-active family in our ward that consisted of a single mother and her two sons. My older brother, John, and I were the same ages as the two boys, Robin and Shannon, so it seemed appropriate that we extend a hand of fellowship.
The family didn’t own a car, so my father offered to pick them up at their home in a nearby city and give them rides to and from church. I remember the days Dad summoned my brother and me to accompany him to pick them up. I begrudged it at the time, but despite my groaning, Dad continued to give them rides until they were actively attending church and had their own car. Robin and Shannon were soon baptized and confirmed, and their mom began participating in Relief Society. I didn’t realize at the time the positive repercussions that would come from this act of service.
A few months before I began eighth grade, my dad passed away. To compound my grief, I was insecure about my physical appearance and lack of friends. I began to succumb to feelings of despair, and I spent my lunch hours walking to my house and back because I couldn’t bear sitting alone.
That same year, the family we had befriended moved into our school district, and Shannon began attending my school. We became immediate friends. I felt accepted, and I was no longer so sad. Knowing that someone enjoyed being my friend boosted my confidence and self-worth. I no longer had to spend my lunch hour by myself.
Our friendship deepened during high school. When our older brothers left for college and missions, Shannon and I became surrogate brothers. We received our Eagle Scout Awards at the same court of honor, went to the same university, left on missions during the same summer, and became roommates afterward. We were both married in the Salt Lake Temple to wonderful women, and our first children were born within three months of each other.
One evening shortly before Shannon’s wedding, we began talking about our childhood. I told him how he had helped me overcome my insecurities and cope with the death of my father. It was his friendship, I added, that had helped me turn my life around. Shannon then told me that if my dad had not given his family rides to church, he would not have attended church, served a mission, and been sealed in the temple.
The Spirit touched me strongly during that conversation as I realized the blessings that a simple ride to church had on our lives. As I reflected on Shannon’s friendship, I realized that my father not only helped save Shannon’s family, but he also prepared a friend who helped save his own son.

This pattern can be seen in the life of Jasmine B. of Washington, USA, who received help in coping with a disease. Before contracting the disease, she was a healthy young woman who excelled on her high school track team and loved getting up early for seminary.
Then she started feeling ill. She lost 15 pounds very quickly, and no matter how much sleep she got, it became harder and harder to get up for seminary. She couldn’t run as well as she used to and was hungry, thirsty, and weak all the time.
Over a month went by before she started to pray for help. “I held off so long,” she says, “because the thought of praying for help was an act of submission, admitting that something was indeed wrong with me. It scared me.”
But because she humbled herself to seek the Lord’s help, answers started to come. She went to see a doctor, who discovered she had developed type 1 diabetes, which meant her body could not produce insulin to process sugar. Diabetes has lifelong consequences and must be carefully monitored. Even as the doctors developed a plan to help her manage her condition, she began to worry that she would not be able to continue running track.
“I never ceased to pray as I struggled to understand my new life and to control my disease,” she says. “I prayed for strength and understanding and that I would be able to accept this trial. I would not have made it through those hard days and weeks without prayer.”
Jasmine made incredible strides. Within two weeks of being diagnosed, she was back practicing on the track, and later that year she did well in state competitions. “I believe Heavenly Father has blessed me with a strong, healthy body,” she says. “Having diabetes was not the end of the world. With His help, I knew I could get through this.”
By the grace of God and through her dependence on Him, Jasmine is able to cope with her disease and have wonderful successes in her life.

“Thanks for all the fresh, beautifully ironed shirts in the closet,” said the note my husband had left for me on the dresser.

Here in the mission field, I have learned to do many things on my own initiative and not to wait for someone to tell me what to do. We need to be like the Savior, who volunteered to come to earth and to pay for our sins. Although he suffered greatly, he was happy because he was doing the will of his Father.
Elder Jorge Guevara,Las Delicias Ward, Sonsonate El Salvador Stake

At Brigham Young University we have had some great athletic coaches. We have them now and we have had them in the past. One of these of long ago was Eugene L. Roberts. He grew up in Provo and drifted aimlessly with the wrong kind of friends. Then something remarkable happened. I read you his own words. He wrote:
“Several years ago when Provo City was scarred with unsightly saloons and other questionable forms of amusement, I was standing one evening on the street, waiting for my gang to show up, when I noticed that the [Provo] tabernacle was lighted up and that a large crowd was moving in that direction. I had nothing to do so I drifted over there and went in. I thought I might find some of my gang, or at least some of the girls that I was interested in. Upon entering, I ran across three or four of the fellows and we placed ourselves under the gallery where there was a crowd of young ladies, who seemed to promise entertainment. We were not interested in what came from the pulpit. We knew that the people on the rostrum were all old fogies. They didn’t know anything about life, and they certainly couldn’t tell us anything, for we knew it all. So we settled down to have a good time. Right in the midst of our disturbance there thundered from the pulpit the following [statement]:
“‘You can’t tell the character of an individual by the way he does his daily work. Watch him when his work is done. See where he goes. Note the companions he seeks, and the things he does when he may do as he pleases. Then you can tell his true character.’
“I looked up toward the rostrum,” Roberts continued, “because I was struck with this powerful statement. I saw there a slim, dark-haired fierce-eyed fighting-man whom I knew and feared; but didn’t have any particular love for.”
As he continued, “[the speaker] went on to make a comparison. He said: ‘Let us take the eagle, for example. This bird works as hard and as efficiently as any other animal or bird in doing its daily work. It provides for itself and its young by the sweat of its brow, so to speak; but when its daily work is over and the eagle has time of its own to do just as it pleases, note how it spends its recreational moments. It flies in the highest realms of heaven, spreads its wings and bathes in the upper air, for it loves the pure, clean atmosphere and the lofty heights.
“‘On the other hand, let us consider the hog. This animal grunts and grubs and provides for its young just as well as the eagle; but when its working hours are over and it has some recreational moments, observe where it goes and what it does. The hog will seek out the muddiest hole in the pasture and will roll and soak itself in filth, for this is the thing it loves. People can be either eagles or hogs in their leisure time.’
“Now when I heard this short speech,” said Gene Roberts, “I was dumbfounded. I turned to my companions abashed for I was ashamed to be caught listening. What was my surprise to find everyone of the gang with his attention fixed upon the speaker and his eyes containing a far-away expression.
“We went out of the tabernacle that evening rather quiet and we separated from each other unusually early. I thought of that speech all the way home. I classified myself immediately as of the hog family. I thought of that speech for years. That night there was implanted within me the faintest beginnings of ambition to lift myself out of the hog group and to rise to that of the eagle. …
“There was instilled within me that same evening, the urge to help fill up the mud holes in the social pasture so that those people with hog tendencies would find it difficult to wallow in recreational filth. As a result of constant thinking about that speech, I was stirred to devote my whole life and my profession toward developing wholesome recreational activities for the young people, so that it would be natural and easy for them to indulge in the eagle-type of leisure.
“The man who made that speech which affected my life more than any other speech I ever heard, was President George H. Brimhall. May God bless him!” (Raymond Brimhall Holbrook and Esther Hamilton Holbrook, The Tall Pine Tree: The Life and Work of George H. Brimhall [n.p., 1988], pp. 111–13).
That simple story, told by a great teacher, turned around the life of a drifter and made of him an able and gifted leader. I repeat it tonight because I think that most of us are constantly faced with a choice of whether we wallow in the mire or fly to lofty heights.

Alan Howell, one of two young men holding the Aaronic Priesthood in the Alexandria Minnesota Branch, Fargo North Dakota Stake, is the first branch member to earn the Eagle award. Because there was no Scout program in the branch and the stake center was over 100 miles away, Alan joined a troop sponsored by the Calvary Lutheran Church. (His mother has been a den leader and his father is on the Scout committee of that troop.) To complete his Eagle project, Alan organized the Scouts in cleaning and repairing an old hockey rink for use by the community. The boys cleared weeds and debris, leveled ground, and repaired boards. The park association flooded the area for ice skating, and the facility was used free of charge throughout the winter. Alan serves as priesthood chorister in his branch and as a home teacher in a 43-mile district. He has received his On My Honor award and was elected into the Order of the Arrow. When asked if it was difficult to keep LDS standards in a non-LDS troop, he replied, “No, it wasn’t hard to do. You are always in good company when you’re with Scouts!”

My family has a problem with small things like not turning off the lights and leaving on the water when we brush our teeth. When I read the July FYI I knew I could help save the earth. I made a copy of the article, then cut out each section and put them around the house. Thanks!
Anne ParkerSalt Lake City, Utah

Like many other young adults, Victor Kim of South Korea has found himself in situations where others didn’t share his standards:

“Sometimes at work, my colleagues and I went out to eat as a team, and they always drank. There was a lot of pressure to join in, and it wasn’t easy to turn everybody down. I always made sure that they knew beforehand that I don’t drink. Even still, I had to be strong and show confidence in my boundaries.

“In my experience, those who don’t set clear boundaries can become complacent and can eventually convince themselves that a little sin is OK. They can become numb to the Spirit and no longer see what is wrong and why it’s wrong.

“Peer pressure can also be really strong. Those who aren’t strong might eventually join in because what their friends are saying seems to make sense, even though it doesn’t fit our standards. But there is no middle ground. Eventually you have to choose.

“To stay strong, it helps to have a good friend so you can talk to each other and rely on each other. That way you can stay strong together. When I keep my standards, I feel safe. I’m worthy to ask God to protect me. I have faith that if I am obedient, He will help me.”