Gospel Story Finder

Another rewarding encounter came with a post-doctoral research student who was studying early Christian history at the Pontifical Biblical Institute in Rome. As far as I could tell, this bright scholar had been given every possible honor and privilege of study within the vast Vatican libraries. A mutual friend introduced us at a meeting specifically to examine the Book of Mormon, particularly some of its ritual and historical texts. For instance, we discussed the description of Lehi’s attitudes in the context of contemporary international affairs. Israel’s rulers had formed an alliance with Egypt against their traditional enemy, Babylon; but Jeremiah had vehemently criticized this choice, and there seems to be evidence that Lehi’s political sympathies were as unpopular as Jeremiah’s. One of Babylon’s allies was Sidon; but Sidon’s twin city, Tyre, had allied with Egypt. The people of the Book of Mormon frequently used the name Sidon. There is a city named Sidon, a river named Sidon and, even a man named Gidgiddonah, which, as Dr. Hugh Nibley of Brigham Young University points out, is the Egyptian name for Sidon. But the name Tyre never appears in any form in the Book of Mormon, whereas in the Old Testament the two names are constantly linked; one hardly ever appears without the other. This apparent preference for Sidon over Tyre in the Book of Mormon fits perfectly into the world situation that Lehi knew and may support Brother Nibley’s deduction that Lehi may have been a trader with close personal connections in foreign cities, his safety and prosperity guaranteed by the Chuwa, or “contract of friendship” that protected an alien in another city-state. Naturally, even though he knew Egyptian, he (as did Jeremiah) would still deplore Israel’s alliance with Egypt, since he saw his nation turning away from safety. (Approach to the Book of Mormon, Melchizedek Priesthood Course, 1957, p. 52.)

That was only one of the many areas that I wished to discuss with this eminent scholar; and at first I feared it might be a difficult meeting. He had read several chapters in the Book of Mormon and had understood them fairly well, considering that it was his first reading of them. But he had concluded that the book was without substance. We looked again at what he had read. Then again, first from one angle and then another. Many hours and many words later, he was to admit willingly that the book was anything but meaningless. “Your book,” he said, “will have to be dealt with.”

Now, I want to talk to you about one other matter before closing. One of my missionaries came to me some time ago. He was a fine missionary. I asked him, “Elder, how can I help you?”

“President,” he said, “I think I’m losing my testimony.”

I couldn’t believe it. I asked him how that could be possible.

“For the first time I have read some anti-Mormon literature,” he said. “I have some questions, and nobody will answer them for me. I am confused, and I think I am losing my testimony.”

I asked him what his questions were, and he told me. They were the standard anti-Church issues, but I wanted a little time to gather materials so I could provide meaningful answers. So we set up an appointment ten days later, at which time I told him I would answer everyone of his questions. As he started to leave, I stopped him.

“Elder, you’ve asked me several questions here today,” I said. “Now I have one for you.”

“Yes, President?”

“How long has it been since you read from the Book of Mormon?” I asked.

His eyes dropped. He looked at the floor for a while. Then he looked at me. “It’s been a long time, President,” he confessed.

“All right,” I said. “You have given me my assignment. It’s only fair that I give you yours. I want you to promise me that you will read in the Book of Mormon for at least one hour every day between now and our next appointment.” He agreed that he would do that.

Ten days later he returned to my office, and I was ready. I pulled out my papers to start answering his questions. But he stopped me.

“President,” he said, “that isn’t going to be necessary.” Then he explained, “I know that the Book of Mormon is true. I know Joseph Smith is a prophet of God.”

“Well, that’s great,” I said, “but you’re going to get answers to your questions anyway. I worked a long time on this, so you just sit there and listen.”

And so I answered all of those questions, and then asked, “Elder, what have you learned from this?”

And he said, “Give the Lord equal time.”

Henry and his friends were excited to visit a farm.
First they played in the pumpkin patch. “Look at that big pumpkin!” Henry called.
“And there’s a little baby one!” Adalynn said.
Then they went to see the goats and chickens. “The chicks are so fuzzy,” Peyton said.
Next it was time to ride the train. “All aboard!” Mom said.
The train chugged past horses and apple trees. It chugged past a big roll of hay that looked like a pig.
The train stopped at the corn maze.
“Hooray!” Henry said. This was the best part.
They followed a sign into the corn maze. Trails were everywhere. Some trails led to other trails. Some trails just ended. Henry and his friends walked and walked.
After a while, they all felt tired. “How do we get out of the maze?” Henry asked.
“I’m not sure,” Mom said.
Henry couldn’t see over the corn stalks. His heart beat fast. Maybe they were lost!
“Let’s say a prayer,” Mom said.
“OK,” Henry said. He bowed his head. “Heavenly Father, please help us get out of the corn maze.” After he said, “Amen,” Henry felt warm and happy.
Soon Henry heard someone shout, “Here’s the way out!”
Henry knew Heavenly Father helped them.
At bedtime, Henry said a prayer. He thanked Heavenly Father for helping him.
He smiled. It felt good to know that Heavenly Father loved him. And that Heavenly Father could always hear him pray, even in a corn maze!

One experience I had with the Duty to God book was when I was working on the section titled “Doctrinal Topics.” During that time I was called as deacons quorum president. I didn’t know what to expect, and I didn’t know if I was qualified to hold the sacred keys of the Aaronic Priesthood. Through “Doctrinal Topics” I studied “Priesthood and Priesthood Keys.” It taught me how these keys came to the earth and how I should use them to receive revelation from Heavenly Father.
I was stunned by how much knowledge was at my fingertips. I searched many books about this topic and received many useful things from them. I eventually prayed to know if I was worthy to hold these sacred keys.
Instantly the Spirit fell upon me gently but with a strong witness that Heavenly Father loved me and that He had a work for me to do in this quorum at this time. I felt I was ready and worthy to hold the sacred keys of the priesthood. Duty to God is not just a book. It is a blessing. And I want to share this blessing with my quorum members.

A little over a year earlier, this kind of work would have been impossible for Peyton. At that time he was battling a dangerous infection that threatened to paralyze him. On top of that, his family had just moved to Idaho from Oregon, USA, and during the months he was stuck in bed and making daily hospital trips, he relied on his new friends and his trust in God to get him through.
Just before Peyton’s junior year of high school, his dad got a new job in Idaho. The family packed up everything and started the drive. “It didn’t really hit me until we started driving that we were actually moving,” Peyton says. “Then I really got scared.” Peyton’s mom remembers him quietly crying through a lot of the drive. “In fact, it was one of the only times I’ve seen him cry,” she says.
After the move Peyton joined the school soccer team. Although Peyton met a lot of new people, he had a hard time connecting with them. “It was all scary because everything was new,” he says. “The first couple of months were super hard.”
But his new friends kept reaching out to him. And it made a difference.
“There wasn’t a specific day where everything magically changed,” Peyton says. “It just happened slowly and over time as they kept inviting me to hang out with them. I slowly grew closer and closer to all of them.”
From the time Peyton was little, he loved all sports—but he had dreamed of playing on a high school varsity basketball team. Even though he didn’t make the team at his new school, he decided to play on the junior varsity team to prove himself.
Halfway through the season, Peyton noticed that his lower back began hurting, and gradually the pain got worse. For a while, taking a simple hot bath would relieve it. Then one morning Peyton woke up in intense pain, and over the next few days, he could barely walk. Finally, Peyton’s mom drove him to the emergency room.
The doctors gave him painkillers. “After that,” Peyton says, “I thought things would return to normal soon.”
They didn’t.
After a scan, the doctor told Peyton that he had a rare condition called a spinal epidural abscess—possibly from a freak hit to Peyton’s back during a basketball game. It was serious. If not treated in time, the swelling from the abscess could cause paralysis and even death.
Because the doctors wanted to avoid surgery, they put Peyton on the strongest antibiotics available. A permanent IV was put into his arm to give him internal medication. Peyton had to return to the hospital every day for treatments and tests, and he couldn’t go back to school. “I was scared,” Peyton explains. “But mostly I was frustrated that I couldn’t do anything I’d normally do.”
Peyton’s new friends visited him in the hospital after school. They texted, they heart-attacked his room, they helped throw a small birthday party for him, they even brought junior prom to the hospital for him, and they prayed.
“One of my friends, Ellie, would visit me pretty much every single day,” Peyton says, “and it was such a big help, strength, and source of joy to me. My friends were so helpful and supportive.”
But the weeks of treatments and waiting were still really hard. Peyton turned to the scriptures for comfort. One night, while reading in the Book of Mormon, he came across a passage that reached him: “And now, O my son Helaman, behold, thou art in thy youth … [and] I do know that whosoever shall put their trust in God shall be supported in their trials, and their troubles, and their afflictions, and shall be lifted up at the last day. … I do put my trust in him, and he will still deliver me” (Alma 36:3, 27; emphasis added).
“I trusted in those verses,” Peyton says. “They taught me to look to God, and I knew He would help me get through.”
Six weeks later Peyton had a follow-up scan. “I thought and hoped that I’d be declared infection-free,” he explains.
The results: the infection had diminished but not been eliminated, and there was potential it would come back. That meant another six weeks of treatment and increasing his trips to the hospital to three times a day. “I was super sad and frustrated. That was really hard.”
Finally, after the second round of treatments, Peyton was declared infection-free. “When they told me that I would be able to walk again and I wasn’t going to be paralyzed as long as I was careful, I was so relieved. I still pray and give thanks almost every day for the ability that I have to be able to walk and to exercise.”
With life somewhat back to normal, Peyton was eager to play sports again, especially basketball. “I really wanted to play, but I didn’t know if my back could handle it. I knew I had to take my question to God. I prayed a lot. Then I started having dreams about playing basketball and getting hit and becoming paralyzed during a high school game. At first I just brushed it off, but I kept having them. Then I started having dreams about me being a dad in a wheelchair.
“I decided I shouldn’t play basketball because one day I wanted to be able to play and do stuff with my kids. I felt like I was following a prompting.”
The following March, Peyton began his mission in North Carolina. One month later, Hurricane Matthew ravaged the eastern coast of the United States, and North Carolina was in emergency status. Although he had to be careful, Peyton and the other missionaries helped fill and place thousands of sandbags to protect businesses and homes from the floods.
Peyton reflects: “All of my experiences in Idaho prepared me in different ways for my mission. All of my experiences made me physically, mentally, or spiritually stronger, and I’ve needed all those in helping the people here in North Carolina.
“I’ve realized that God gave me that trial to humble me and to give me more compassion for other people. This experience also made me a lot more grateful for all the things that I take for granted. There was a reason the Lord preserved me and that I wasn’t paralyzed or dead. That’s when it really hit me that I was here to help and bless others.”

A few years ago, while serving in Mexico, I had the opportunity to visit a small branch of the Church in a rural part of the country. The members met in a small, rented warehouse for sacrament meetings. They sat in plastic chairs on a cement floor, as did the branch president and his counselors. The day I visited, there were a handful of people in attendance. As I sat in my own plastic chair and looked upon the group of individuals, I wondered what message Heavenly Father wanted me to share with this small band of Saints in a distant part of the vineyard. While I prayed, the Spirit communicated to me the following words: “Tell them I know them and I love them. Tell them I weep when they cry, and I rejoice when they are happy. Tell them I hear their prayers and am answering in a way best for them.” As I shared this message with these individuals, I felt Heavenly Father’s profound interest in and love for each of them and His yearning for their joy and happiness.

When I was 12, the missionaries began to teach my siblings and me. At first my father didn’t participate. He would just sit in a back room behind a curtain and listen. But then he read a Church pamphlet that described how a man and a woman married with the right authority could live together forever. This got his attention because even though his wife had passed away, he could be with her again. Once he learned this, he decided to be baptized. And we were all baptized as a family.
The newfound perspective that the gospel provided helped me realize it was possible to achieve better things in life if I applied myself and was obedient. I made the personal decision that I would do whatever it took to remain on the Lord’s path.

After graduation Franklin received an appointment to the U.S. Naval Academy at Annapolis, Maryland. He wondered if he accepted the appointment if he would ever serve a full-time mission. It was a difficult decision to make. Elder Richards said, “I think unknowingly I was following the advice of the Lord to Oliver Cowdery:

“‘Behold, I say unto you, that you must study it out in your mind; then you must ask me if it be right, and if it is right I will cause that your bosom shall burn within you; therefore, you shall feel that it is right’ (D&C 9:8).

“In effect, I was doing that. I thought about a mission and about my grandfather, and I wondered, Do I want to go to Annapolis or don’t I? So I studied it out, talked to several people, and reached the decision that I would prefer to go on a mission. I made it a matter of prayer, expressing my feelings to the Lord, and the Holy Ghost bore witness to me that my decision was right.”

Years ago, I arrived home from work and was startled to see white paint splattered everywhere—on the ground, the garage door, and our red-brick house. I inspected the scene more closely and discovered the paint was still wet. A trail of paint led toward the backyard, and so I followed it. There, I found my five-year-old son with a paintbrush in his hand, chasing our dog. Our beautiful black Labrador was splattered almost half white!
“What are you doing?” I asked in an animated voice.
My son stopped, looked at me, looked at the dog, looked at the paintbrush dripping with paint, and said, “I just want him to look like the black-spotted dogs in the movie—you know, the one with 101 Dalmatians.”
I loved our dog. I thought he was perfect, but that day my son had a different idea. …
… Our young son had a beautiful dog as a pet; notwithstanding, he grabbed a gallon of paint and, with paintbrush in hand, determined to create his own imagined reality.
… [This is a story] of mistaken identity—presuming the real thing to be something else. In [this] case, the consequences were minor.

Here I recall an event described by a man I met at a stake conference in the Midwest more than a decade ago. The setting was a beautiful campus in central Illinois. My informant, a participant in a summer workshop, saw a crowd of young students seated on the grass in a large semicircle about 20 feet from one of the large hardwood trees that are so common and so beautiful there. They were watching something at the base of the tree. He turned aside from his walk to see what it was.

There was a handsome tree squirrel with a large, bushy tail playing around the base of the tree—now on the ground, now up and down and around the trunk. But why would that beautiful but familiar sight attract a crowd of students?

Stretched out prone on the grass nearby was an Irish setter. He was the object of the students’ interest, and, though he pretended otherwise, the squirrel was the object of his. Each time the squirrel was momentarily out of sight circling the tree or looking in another direction, the setter would quickly creep forward a few inches and then resume his apparent indifferent posture. Each minute or two he crept closer to the squirrel, and the squirrel apparently did not notice. This was the scene that held the students’ interest. They were silent and immobile, attention riveted on the drama—the probable outcome of which was becoming increasingly obvious.

Finally the setter was close enough to bound at the squirrel and catch it in his mouth. A gasp of horror arose, and the crowd of students surged forward and wrested the beautiful little animal away from the hound, but it was too late. The squirrel was dead.

Anyone in that crowd of students could have warned the squirrel at any time by waving their arms or crying out, but none had done so. They just watched while the inevitable consequence got closer and closer. No one asked “Where will this lead?” and no one wished to interfere. When the predicable outcome occurred, they rushed to the defense, but it was too late. Tearful and regretful expressions were all they could offer.

That true story is a parable of sorts. It has a lesson for things we see in our own lives, in the lives of those around us, and in the events occurring in our cities, states, and nations. In all these areas we can see threats creeping up on things we love, and we cannot afford to be indifferent or quiet. We must be ever vigilant to ask “Where will it lead?” and to sound appropriate warnings or join appropriate preventive efforts while there is still time. Often we cannot prevent the outcome, but we can remove ourselves from the crowd who, by failing to try to intervene, has complicity in the outcome.

My missionary companion, Paul, was someone who always radiated good cheer. As a young father, he was stricken with multiple sclerosis. Yet despite the adversity that followed, he continued serving others with joy and good humor. He once entered my office seated in his first wheelchair and declared, “Life begins with a motorized wheelchair!” I will always remember him, a few years before he died, holding high the Olympic torch while riding in his wheelchair as hundreds cheered. Like that ever-burning flame, Paul’s faith never dimmed in the storm of life.

As a further example of rising to life’s challenges as a Christlike child, I’m reminded of one of my father’s experiences in World War II. He was the pilot of a B-17, flying daylight bombing raids over Germany and experiencing and inflicting horrific deaths when he was younger than almost everyone here. Thanks, Dad, to you and to other men and women like you. At one point, after completing a bombing run over Germany, his formation was attacked by German fighters and flack, and his plane lost an engine. This meant that the rest of the formation had to leave them behind since they could not keep up. They knew full well that they would probably be killed because they had lost the protection of the interlocking fields of fire and the protection that a formation with its many guns provided. Then they lost a second engine. B-17s weren’t necessarily able to fly with only two engines, but my dad broke the throttle quadrant and could over-rev the engines, buying time for some airspeed and altitude.

The fighters swarmed to this lone plane, ready to finish it off with relative ease away from the protection of the other gunners and planes. Dad began to pray, and he also thought, “Dad, pray for me.”

In the Gila Valley in Arizona, his father—my grandfather—Ether Samuel Ferrin, got his wife and said, “Leven’s in trouble. We need to pray for him.” They knelt in humble prayer for his safety far across the world. These discrete actors’ stories were obviously pieced together later. My Dad recounts that when they were sure they were going to be destroyed, it seemed as if they suddenly became invisible to the fighters, which would just fly past.

They were able to return home to England with that plane, which Dad safely landed. After that the plane was useless in the war effort. The ground crew presented Dad with the placard from that now useless B-17. He has that placard in his home in the Gila Valley today. The key point for me in recounting this story is that as a courageous child, my father not only prayed but cried out for his father to be alerted and pray as well, because he knew and believed in his father’s faith.

Game night is going to be epic! Sam will never know what hit him! I’ve been practicing!
Sam, are you OK? You don’t usually use words like that?
Losing just makes me so mad sometimes!
I know. We’ve been friends a long time.
That’s how I know you don’t normally talk like that. I don’t think it’s the real you, you know?
You’re right. Thanks for looking out for me.
Anytime! But I’m still gonna cream you in this game!

Following his RAF service, Elder Kearon’s father went to work as a defense contractor in Saudi Arabia. Patrick, as a seven-year-old boy, learned an important lesson there in obedience, memorably recounted in his first general conference talk as a General Authority. Ignoring his parents’ instructions to wear shoes during a desert camping trip, he went exploring in “flip-flops” and suffered a scorpion sting in the arch of his foot.

When I was a young boy, I took church attendance seriously and always said in my heart that I will go to a church that bears Christ’s name, so I was happy to attend a church that had “Christ” in its name. One day at school, one of my friends came to me and said: “Rich Boy, I want to invite you to my church on Sunday.” I asked him why he wanted me to go to his church and he said: “I want you to gain salvation!”
I was confused at the invitation to be saved because I attended church regularly and as far as I was concerned, we all worshipped one God.
On Sunday morning, my friend called to tell me to get ready for church because he was coming over to my house to pick me up. When I saw him approaching our compound, I quickly went to hide because I belonged to another church and didn’t know why I should visit my friend’s church.
After that, my friend would on occasion extend the invitation to come to his church again. One day, I decided that I would go with him to know the reason why he wanted me to accompany him. The first time I attended church with my friend, I felt the Spirit. I heard about the Atonement of Jesus Christ and I was so impressed. When we came back from church, I told him that I can’t go back to my church again. I wanted to attend The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
The next Sunday, i was contacted by some missionaries who asked me if they could visit me at home during the week. I agreed and set an appointment with them. I requested that they bring a copy of the Book of Mormon to me when they came to my house. The missionaries arrived and told me amongst other things “Brother Nimako, do you know that God loves you? The gospel we teach can bless you and your family.” I enjoyed their visit and scheduled another appointment.
I read my copy of the Book of Mormon and prayed. I pondered on the message the missionaries shared and what I was reading in the book of Mormon. I had a good feeling as I did this. I couldn’t wait to be baptised!
After my baptism on 30 January 2009, I was so active in Church, even more active than my friend who invited me, so I started to visit him with missionaries. I asked the missionaries to visit my mother also. I wanted her to be blessed by the gospel I had received.
On July 4, 2014, my mother was also baptised, to my greatest joy. I went on to serve a full-time mission in the Nigeria Benin City Mission. I stood as a witness of the truth. I testify that the gospel is true. I know that Joseph Smith saw God and Jesus Christ, and he was a true prophet. I know with all my heart that if we read the Book of Mormon daily and ponder and pray about it, we will know that Jesus Christ is our Savior and Redeemer.

I had occasion once to visit with a young man who shared a source of strength for him in turning away from the temptations of pornography. A bishop had once counseled him to consider his own feelings if ever he were to find his own father viewing such images, "How would you feel?" The young brother described the disappointment and sorrow he imagined would come if ever he found his father in such a setting.

Then the bishop asked, "How would you feel if your own children saw you?"

What if we all followed such counsel when faced with temptations to tamper with this procreative power? Picture him, your son, with your spouse's eyes and your nose and that Stanford Burnham hairdo. Picture her, your daughter, with hair and a smile that says, "I'm here, love me."

Such pictures held in your mind's eye, "the eye of faith."[19] will aid you to turn away from other images and thoughts that would otherwise seek to divide you from the love you will share with an eternal companion. Satan desires that you burn isolated and alone in lust, separated from the children you could have here and in eternity. Remember that Elijah himself has come to help you turn your heart to the promises made to your children.

The Olson family in Brigham City, Utah, USA, found that even changing one small aspect of their Sabbath day brings about great blessings. Instead of watching regular television on Sunday, they focus on Church-sponsored media. They found that watching the Bible videos (see BibleVideos.org) with their children invites the Spirit as well as questions from the kids that prompt good family discussions.

“Not watching TV on the Sabbath led to the biggest shift in focus for me,” said Sister Lacey Olson. “We might feel like there are so many rules with regards to Sunday, but I think the Sabbath is a day unrestricted with regards to service and charity. If we choose, the Sabbath day can arm us with rejuvenation to face the world in the following week.”

Emily was bullied for several years while in middle school. “I got pushed into lockers and had spitballs thrown at me,” she says. “But mostly it was emotional—the girls would exclude me or call me names.”

Emily says that gaining a greater understanding of the Atonement helped her heal from the effects of the bullying. She found comfort in Alma’s words:
“And [Jesus] shall go forth, suffering pains and afflictions and temptations of every kind; and this that the word might be fulfilled which saith he will take upon him the pains and the sicknesses of his people.
“… And he will take upon him their infirmities, that his bowels may be filled with mercy, according to the flesh, that he may know according to the flesh how to succor [help] his people according to their infirmities” (Alma 7:11–12).

Today, both Greg and Emily agree that the damage caused by bullying doesn’t have to last forever. Both have gone on to have successful careers and families of their own. And while neither would wish for such a painful experience again, they agree that in some ways they are better people as a result: they are more understanding of those who are struggling and are more anxious to reach out and help. And they know that their worth does not depend on what others think of them, for the worth of every soul “is great in the sight of God” (D&C 18:10).

It was my privilege and opportunity to open the missionary work in the Philippines. At 6:30 on a May morning in 1961 we met in the American military cemetery because we had no other place to meet. We sang hymns together and asked the blessings of the Lord upon that which we were about to begin. We had found one native Filipino member of the Church. He gave us his testimony of this work on that occasion. He was the only member of record then. But when we were there last August, fourteen years later, a great area conference was held. In the vast Arenetta coliseum, beneath that great roof, there were assembled some eighteen thousand members of the Church. It is a miracle, and it is found in many lands, with many people.

As a Brazilian, I was surprised when I received my mission call to serve not in Brazil or even in South America but in the Texas Houston South Mission in the United States. My surprise soon turned to deep gratitude.
Four days after I arrived in my first area, the bishop of the local ward invited my companion and me to go with him to the hospital to visit Brother Noel Stevenson, an older member who was ill with leukemia. When I met Brother Stevenson, I was amazed that he started speaking Portuguese. He told me he had served a mission to Brazil in the 1950s. He mentioned several cities where he had served, including Ponta Grossa in the state of Paraná.
“When you were in Ponta Grossa did you know Raul Pimentel?” I asked hesitantly.
With an expression of joy, he replied, “Yes, I knew Raul. I baptized him.”
I told Brother Stevenson that Raul Pimentel was my grandfather, the first member of the Church in our family. We embraced, and tears rolled down our faces.
Then I told him that my grandfather was 84 and still active in the Church. His 8 children were also active, all who are married having married in the temple and 5 having served full-time missions. And his 30 grandchildren were active in the Church as well. As we talked, the Spirit of the Lord filled my heart with joy and gratitude.
My grandfather was baptized in 1958 by two American missionaries. He had heard that the other elder had now passed away, but he had never had any news about Elder Stevenson. When my grandfather learned that I had met the missionary who baptized him, he was overwhelmed with joy.
He and Brother Stevenson began exchanging e-mail messages almost every week. Then the e-mails stopped abruptly. I received a telephone call telling me that Brother Noel Stevenson had passed away.
Although I felt sad, I felt even more grateful that the Lord had allowed me to meet the man who brought the blessings of the gospel to my family. This experience helped me be a better missionary and strengthened my testimony that mission calls are inspired.