Gospel Story Finder

When Juliet was a tiny baby, she had severe pains in her stomach and needed two operations before she was even a year old.
One day when she was older, Juliet’s temperature went higher and higher. Her mother tried to make her little girl more comfortable, but nothing seemed to help. Finally she decided to go to the mission home nearby and ask the elders to give her daughter a blessing.
The missionaries did as she asked, and when they returned a few hours later to see how Juliet was feeling, she was sleeping quietly.
Juliet was treated at the Primary Children’s Hospital two different times, but she was never completely well. However, the blessings given helped to make her more comfortable.
Juliet kept urging her family to become members. Finally in March 1968 they were all baptized. Within the Church they found friendship and happiness. They remember with special love Juliet and her testimony and are grateful that she influenced them and many others to join the Church.

Sister Zoe Campbell, 24 years old, is the first young-adult sister in Scotland to undertake a service mission for the Church. She was set apart by her stake president, Lee Mcleman, in June 2021.
Sister Campbell will be serving in Aberdeen for the next 18 months.
She will be busy working with the local nuns, cooking food each week for those in the city who struggle with poverty. She is also involved with the Care Hub in Aberdeen, which works with the homeless providing food, clothing, and cooked meals. She is also signed up to work with the British Heart Foundation in its charity shop.
Zoe is not a teaching missionary but, by her example, she is teaching how to serve as Christ served, reaching out to those who need a little help. She looks forward to the wonderful opportunities for her 18-month mission to be filled with service in the City of Aberdeen.

As I grew up loving sports and playing college basketball, I dealt with many injuries. When injuries came, they were treated, and I got back to playing. The good old saying of “rub some dirt on it” and get back out there was how I grew up.

A few years ago I was playing ball with my family and friends, and I hit the back of my head on a brick wall. I sat down for a few minutes and thought I was fine. I even went back out and stood on the court pretending that I could play. I soon realized something wasn’t right. I started to feel a little nauseated and decided I should leave. Stubborn as I was, I didn’t say anything to anyone as I thought I could drive the ten miles to my home. As I got in the car, my situation worsened. I physically had to hold my head up. I decided I needed to stop or I wasn’t going to make it home, so I stopped by my parents’ home to regain my composure. After a brief rest, I got back in the car. Once again I did not let others know the intensity of my struggle. After some prayer and difficulty driving, I made it home.

Before I relate the conclusion of this story, I want you to think about your own experiences. Have you had times in your life when you have felt that you just needed to do it on your own? That you needed to absorb the pain, the affliction, and the trial alone? But why? Physical injuries pose challenges, but emotional and spiritual wounds can be even more crippling. When we confront personal battles, there is often a fear of appearing inadequate or weak or of having failed others. Despite our natural inclination to hide our struggles, we should remember that Jesus Christ is always there for us and that He took on additional suffering so He could more perfectly help us in our personal trials.21

Jesus Christ taught that a good shepherd leaves the ninety-nine to find the one lost sheep.22 You are worth being found, being comforted, being helped. If you swallow your pride and let Him in, He will direct you, comfort you, heal you, and believe in you.

Now back to my sports accident.

The injury resulted in a severe concussion. I had never experienced anything like it before. I could not do anything. I curled up in bed in a dark room. I found myself highly dependent, and I had to accept help from others as my brain healed over the course of the following months. I sincerely prayed to Heavenly Father for guidance, strength, and assistance. Through a blessing from my husband, persistent prayers, and a continual process of trusting the Lord, I was provided a degree of comfort and assurance as I healed.

I joined the Church when I was 16 years old. My parents gave me permission, but they did not join with me. On the day of my baptism, my mother told me I could still “get out of it” if I wanted to. But I did not want to get out of it; I wanted to get into it and start my new life. I knew the gospel was true.
Not having my family at church with me, I often felt lonely on Sundays. But it helped when people from the ward would take me to church and sit by me. It also helped to have a calling. When I was called to teach the three-year-olds, I felt much more a part of my ward family.
I didn’t want my baptism to affect my family’s unity. Still, things at home were not always as I wished them to be. My family would do heavy work on Sunday and chide me for not participating. They told me I was lazy. I said I was trying to honor the Sabbath. My family liked to eat out on Sunday, and now I would not go. They said I was tearing apart our family, but I was just trying to live the commandments.
What kept me going was the Spirit of the Lord. I really felt it in my life. I felt it when I bore my testimony, when I read my scriptures, and when I prayed. These were all things I learned to do from my teachers at church. I listened very hard and tried to learn the things that would improve my life.
But I often felt out of place at church because I was learning so many new things. I bought some new long skirts to replace my short ones. When I wore them to church, I found out they were still too short to meet Church standards. I didn’t understand what my friends meant when they used Church-related abbreviations. I was too nervous and shy to ask them the meanings of things.
What helped was the teens befriending me and taking time to include me. They seemed to have a natural way of caring for new members. Another thing that helped was visualizing my family in the next life. I never wanted them to be disappointed in me for not living the gospel when I knew it to be true. Even though times were difficult when I was a teenager, I tried to think of the future and my responsibility to my family. If I did not live the gospel, how would my family ever have a chance of accepting it?
Now I am older and married and have teenagers of my own. They are strong in the Church and do not have problems knowing things about the Church that I had to learn from experience. They fit in well and serve in the presidencies in their classes. When I was a teenager I was trying to be a good example for my mom and dad. Unfortunately, they never did join the Church. But I did not realize then that doing what was right was crucial to teenagers I would meet later in my life, who became dearer to me than life itself—my own children.
What you choose today will affect the people who are in your life now. But there are also some special people in your future who are hoping you will do what is right. Their futures may depend on your choosing what is right today. No matter how awkward others may make you feel for making right choices, in the end it will all be worth it.

One time in Minnesota, where I served as mission president, we had a missionary fireside where at the end I used the words “I know” as I bore my testimony. An investigator came up to speak with me after the meeting was over. He said, “Unless I can touch, smell, hear, see, or taste, I do not believe.” He, of course, had listed the five physical senses, which are an integral part of our mortal and temporal beings. I asked him if he believed in radio signals or gravity or even Hong Kong.

There are many physical elements that exist but we cannot detect them without some additional processes being involved. My cell phone, radio, and other devices convince me that these extra sensory concepts also exist. I cannot see them, I cannot taste them, I cannot feel, hear, or smell them, but I know that they are there.

Let us first examine the sense of hearing. For example, I picked up the phone one day to hear a voice say, “Would you hold the phone a moment? President Kimball would like to speak to you.” After extending a call to serve as a mission president, he asked that I keep the call confidential until it appeared in the Church News. I anxiously waited for the news. Three or four weeks passed without any confirmation of the telephone conversation. I honestly began to wonder if I had actually heard the prophet’s voice. Without some verification, I learned, I did not completely trust my hearing.

What about seeing? Just observe a basketball game and see how the referee and the players see so very differently. It continues to amaze me how two people can observe an event and yet see it in a very different fashion. How many times have I thought I saw something only to have others see it differently. You can’t trust your sight.

I have come to believe that our physical senses, while very powerful, are very inadequate and really not trustworthy. The Lord confirmed this idea of unreliable senses when He explained why He used parables:
“Therefore speak I to them in parables: because they seeing see not; and hearing they hear not, neither do they understand.
“And in them is fulfilled the prophecy of Esaias, which saith, By hearing ye shall hear, and shall not understand; and seeing ye shall see, and shall not perceive” (Matthew 13:13–14).

By now it should be clear that the accumulation of information from our five physical senses is very unlikely, by themselves, to produce the ability to say “I know!” But there are what I will call “spiritual” senses. These are senses that we can take with us when we leave this mortal existence. The development and use of the several categories of spiritual sense are also called “principles of intelligence” (see D&C 130:18–19).

In explaining His use of parables, Jesus identifies two spiritual senses: understanding and perception. Perception is part of understanding, but reinforces the nature of the sense of understanding. We can see but see not, hear but hear not because of the absence of understanding and perception.

The words perception and discernment are very similar. Discernment is the ability to comprehend that which might be hidden or obscure. It is a spiritual sense that is a very important element in the whole concept of agency. The development of our spiritual senses is an important part of our ability to function as a human being.

I first became aware of this sense when I was on my first mission some 43 years ago. I recall being interviewed by my mission president. I had the distinct impression that he could look right into my soul. Seventeen years later, while I was serving as a mission president, I came to know that he could. I often had the experience of knowing more about a missionary than he or she ever thought I did.

Another spiritual sense closely related to understanding is that of wisdom. Wisdom is the accumulation of understanding, learning, and experience that occurs over a lifetime. We can pray for understanding and wisdom, and the prayer would please the Lord (see 1 Kings 3:9–12).

Emotion is also a spiritual sense. Emotion in all of its expressions is an important and pervasive part of our spiritual being.

One of my outstanding missionaries once suggested that he didn’t think he had a testimony, because he never cried or felt tears as others did while expressing their testimony. He had great feelings but could never cry. I asked him what time he got up.

“6:00 a.m.,” he replied.

Did he study as outlined?

“Yes,” he explained.

Was he out the door doing his missionary work?

“Yes.”

I explained that I deeply believed in his testimony because of his actions. He was developing the qualities of understanding and experience by the manner in which he was conducting his life.

There are other spiritual manifestations, besides tears, that affect the mortal person, such as a “burning” heart.

The men on the road to Damascus “said one to another, Did not our heart burn within us, while he talked with us by the way, and while he opened to us the scriptures?” (Luke 24:32).

Oliver Cowdery was taught, “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).

To feel that something is right brings peace—a confirmation from the Holy Ghost that something is true. So, we return to our basic question, “How do I know?”

Knowledge is gained in a multitude of ways. Apparently, the plan of mortality is such that some experience with a physical body is required. We learn from pain, sickness, time, and age. These lessons are only available through experience with the physical senses. After that, the Lord asks two questions: “Did I not speak peace to your mind concerning the matter? What greater witness can you have than from God?” (D&C 6:23).

The Christ confirmed the final spiritual gift as He declared: “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid” (John 14:27).

No more certain knowledge can come to you than that bestowed by God through the witness of the Holy Ghost.

Finally, the peace that knowledge of the things of God brings begets love for Him and for His children.

I love my wife. How do I know that I love her? I just know. I love many people, but with a different type of love. I love God. I love His Son. I love His Church. I know that I love them. I have felt the burning in my bosom. I have heard the “still small voice,” and I have a collection of physical and spiritual senses that all point to a complete and comprehensive conclusion: I know what I know!

Great friendships, of course, can be formed at any age.

Sean C., a 16-year-old from southern Utah, USA, knows how to be a friend as well as a home teacher. Sean has a broad range of interests that include competing in rodeo, wrestling, working with cattle, and repairing cars. He also loves cultivating friendships with the people he home teaches.

“I love talking to people and seeing what I can do to help them,” Sean says.

His home teaching companion is the bishop of their ward. In one home they visit, the wife is a member of the Church and the husband is not. Sean connected with the husband, Floyd, on their very first visit. As Floyd began talking about his Jeep, Sean perked up. “We just clicked,” says Sean.

In the year that Sean and the bishop have visited Floyd and his wife, Sean has strengthened those friendships—including helping Floyd work on engines from time to time.

One of Sean’s favorite scriptures is about service: “When ye are in the service of your fellow beings ye are only in the service of your God” (Mosiah 2:17).

Sean explains, “Everybody needs to be looking out to find ways to serve.”

“I had a great experience when I graduated from Primary. Back in those days we each had a green bandalo. I had lost mine. I looked everywhere, including under my bed and through everything in the closet. Finally my mother said, ‘Why don’t you pray about it. Ask Heavenly Father to help you find it.’ So I went to my room and prayed. Even as I was praying, a voice seemed to say, ‘In the dresser, caught underneath the drawer.’ The dresser was in the hall because there wasn’t enough room in my tiny bedroom. When I pulled out the drawer and reached up inside, there it was, caught on a silver! That was the first direct answer to prayer that I can remember receiving. I was proud that I could wear my bandalo when I stood next to Bishop Rulon Sperry as he nominated me to graduate from Primary and to be ordained to the office of a deacon.

In March 1946 Elder Ezra Taft Benson, then of the Quorum of the Twelve, visited Czechoslovakia. He was pleased to find that the Czech people were cheerfully at work and that the Church had been as resilient as the country. Ten baptisms had been performed during the war. When Elder Benson inquired at government offices about reopening the mission, he found that the Church had an excellent reputation and would be welcomed back. On 28 June 1946, three missionaries reentered Czechoslovakia, including Wallace Toronto, who had never been released as president. Members had waited seven long years for this reunion.

Besides the wallabies and kangaroos, other marsupials living near the Scout camp included the potoroo, ring-tailed possums, echidnas, and wombats. The famous Tasmanian devils have never been sighted on Maria Island.
This information alone allowed the boys to sleep easier at night, although many still felt sleeping was the biggest problem at the camp.
“The nights were really bad. The possums were out in force raiding tents and rubbish bins all night. In the whole camp the worst thing was trying to get to sleep. There was one rock that seemed to follow me all night, and between that and the wind and the cold I didn’t sleep much,” said Stephen Szekely, of Launceston.
“The possums through the night gave me the willies because we had to keep bashing them out of our food box and a possum got in our tent and climbed up our tent pole. We broke our torch (flashlight) trying to get him out of there. Then the emus got in our tent and dunged all over Heath’s, Andrew’s, and my sleeping gear. But the kangaroos were great; they weren’t pests like the emus,” said Geoffrey Jones, a nonmember from Glen Huon.

The next thing I wanted to do was go on a mission. One day my father questioned me asking if the Church I was attending was restored by Joseph Smith? I said “yes”.
He said “Ahh, that church is a cult. I’ve read some things about them. You must be very careful about that church.” I told him “OK, if that is the case, I will pray over it and find out for myself”.
One day I was sleeping, and I had this dream. There were two churches, and they were built across the street from each other. There was a fire burning and people were running all around. The two churches were there, and one was big and the other small. The bigger church had lots of people running into it and a few were running to the small one. The fire was coming, and it was burning the entire city. When the flame got to the two churches, the big church was consumed by the flame and the small church was not. I beheld that the small church had an inscription on it that said, “The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints”.
I said, “Wow, this is wonderful”. I woke up from my dream and prayed and thanked Heavenly Father for answering my prayers because I thought I was lost, and the Church was somewhere I belonged. A place that would comfort me and where I could have a family. I told my father about it and that I had got an answer. He said, “OK, if you’ve gotten an answer, then you need to go on a mission”.

Our parents were happy for us to join the Church, but they wanted no part of it. My sister and I tried our best to regularly attend church meetings, but it wasn’t easy, especially with competing influences in our home. For example, we often had to choose between going to sacrament meeting and spending Sunday at the beach with our family.
But Fiasili and I worked to strengthen each other’s testimonies. We thought that if our parents could just accept the gospel, we wouldn’t have to live in two worlds. So, we invited the missionaries to teach them. In the process, our younger brother—and many of our cousins who lived with us—joined the Church.
It took a little longer for my parents. My sister was serving a full-time mission in Suva, Fiji, when our mother finally got baptised. Our father had actually been a less active member for many years, and it was such a joy to see them both start coming to church with us.

When Darren climbed onto the top bunk, he found a note on his pillow: “CK 24/7.” He slid down and showed it to his older brother, Byron.
“I got the same thing!” Byron said. “What does it mean?” They asked Mom if she knew anything about it.
“Hmm … ,” she said. Then she smiled. Darren knew she was up to something! “I bet you’ll get some answers during family home evening tomorrow.”
On the way home from school the next day, Darren and Byron tried to guess what CK stood for.
Candy Kangaroos? Curious Koalas? Crafty Kings?
Mom just smiled when they asked at dinner. When it was finally time for family night, Darren was ready for some answers.
But first Mom read a story from the Friend about a boy who helped take care of his grandma. The boy didn’t realize it, but by showing Christlike love he was keeping his baptismal covenants.
“We keep our covenants every day when we show love and take care of each other the way Jesus would,” Mom said.
“Hey! Covenants starts with C!” said Darren.
“And keep starts with K. So maybe CK is … Covenant Keepers?” said Byron.
“Yeah, and the 24/7 could mean all day, every day!” Darren shouted. “We cracked the code!”
Mom high-fived Darren and Byron. “Good job, guys! But the lesson’s not over yet. I need to tell you boys that I’ve been spying on you.”
“What do you mean?” Darren asked as he watched Mom pull out a piece of paper. He could see different notes for each day of the week.
“Well, I decided to write down the times I spied you keeping your covenants this week,” Mom said. “And here’s what I saw.”
Monday: Your friend asked if you wanted to watch a violent movie, but you suggested a better movie instead. You were obedient.
Tuesday: Darren’s teacher was grouchy, but you were still kind to her. She was so impressed she called and told me about it. You were forgiving.
Wednesday: Heidi came home from college for a few days. She was sad because one of her classmates died. You two brought her tissues and kept her company. You showed compassion.
Thursday: Byron used a bad word and wished he hadn’t. But you apologized and said you would do better. You repented.
Friday: When your older brothers came to visit and teased you, I saw you guys start to get angry. But then instead of fighting with them, you laughed it off. You showed self-control.
Saturday: When Mr. Gomez offered to pay you for playing with his grandkids, you two said you were happy to help for free. You served.
Sunday: You both sat quietly as you took the sacrament to renew your baptismal covenants. You were reverent, and you remembered how important the sacrament is.
As Mom read the list, Darren felt happy and warm inside. He knew it was the Holy Ghost telling him that those were good choices to make. He wanted to be a covenant keeper by following Jesus 24 hours a day, 7 days a week!

That desire to perform fit perfectly into gymnastics, another of Diane’s lifelong loves. It was tough to convince her parents that gymnastics was a good thing for her, and even then she had to do something more.
“Our family had seven kids and couldn’t afford to pay for Diane to have lessons. She went down to the gym herself and told the coach that she’d do anything for them. So after workouts she’d clean the gym—vacuuming mats, cleaning bathrooms, whatever, to pay for her lessons,” says Marie.
Diane’s love of the spotlight was quickly matched by her gymnastic ability, and the two made a championship combination. She started training when she was 14 1/2, a late start by competitive standards, but within a year she was competing against the best in the country. She was the Junior Olympic National Champion in high school, and in college she led the University of Utah’s women’s gymnastics team to their first national collegiate title.
After her eligibility for college competition was up, she decided to go on a national professional tour. It was a tour that involved Kurt Thomas and other well-known gymnasts, and Diane would get paid $5,000 just to go. She says she knew her gymnastics career was mostly over, but she just wanted to hold on to the thrill of the spotlight and the fun of the sport for as long as she could.
During training for the tour Diane was practicing a vault she’d done thousands of times. She ran toward the vault just like she had done every other time. She jumped on the springboard like all the other times and flew into the air—just like all the other times. This time was different though. This time she rotated just a little too much. This time when she landed, she broke her neck. The accident put her in the hospital for almost half a year and in a wheelchair for the rest of her life.
That was on December 15, 1981. Diane spent that Christmas and the next five months in the hospital, trying to comprehend a life without gymnastics. After so many years of loving the sport, it was difficult for Diane to adjust.
“I hated being in the hospital, and I felt like I was in prison,” says Diane. For one month of the five she was in the hospital, she was in traction and couldn’t move at all except when the nurses came in and turned her a few inches every two hours. Diane had no idea she’d be in the hospital for so long. “In fact, when I was first injured I thought for sure that in a month I’d be back on the tour and back in shape. I thought, ‘If I have enough faith and believe in God and in myself, I’ll be okay.’ And I just knew it.”
Recovery wasn’t quite so easy though, and things seemed to get worse. “I was a horrible patient,” says Diane. “In the hospital I was really miserable because I was so stir-crazy. I was really impatient with people.” Finally Diane came to a turning point.
“Near the end of my traction one day I was in the depths of despair. I just felt like I couldn’t bear it anymore,” Diane says. She asked for a blessing. She knew the power to heal her was present, “but I only wanted that to happen if it was Heavenly Father’s will. I had this blessing and I felt the greatest sense of peace. It was like I knew that no matter what happened it would be okay. If I didn’t walk away from the hospital there would be a reason for it. I knew that I had always tried my best to live the gospel and do what I was supposed to do, so if anybody was worthy to have that blessing, I was. But from that point on I was a different person. I was totally comforted.”
Ironically, one of the biggest aids to her recovery was gymnastics. “I don’t know if I could’ve gotten up again if I hadn’t had that training in gymnastics,” she says. “I had a lot of chronic injuries when I was a gymnast that I just had to deal with. It was always down, up, down, up in gymnastics and this was just one more down I had to get up from. Gymnastics to a big degree made me so I could be a champion again.”
Being a champion is what Diane is all about. Marie says, “Her attitude’s always been, ‘If you want it, go for it.’ She decided when she was young that she would never give up.” And since Diane wanted to teach before her accident, she couldn’t just give that up, no matter what the odds.
Diane made the decision to return to school to finish her degree on the day she finally realized she would never walk again. She was lying on her bed amid scrapbooks filled with souvenirs and photos of her performances. Tears dripped down her face and splashed on the scrapbook pages. “I just realized right then that things weren’t going to get any better. As I lay there crying I thought, ‘I can either give up or get on with my life’ and that’s when I decided to go back to school and get my degree.”
Now she teaches a class full of third graders who are just the right height to look her in the eye. “The kids will do anything for her,” says Marie. “They just love her.”
Her students aren’t her only fans. Diane also gives fireside talks to teenagers who listen, captivated, as she tells her story. And her message is one of hope and perseverance, without bitterness for what has happened.
Her personality hasn’t changed at all, although she doesn’t wear her hair in a ponytail anymore. Just listen to her speak and you’ll see the exuberant, happy girl who used to charm arenas full of people. Now her charm is just aimed at another audience. Her voice seems to smile at every person in the room and her ready laugh frequently interrupts her stories.
“I think telling my gymnastics stories and sharing my experiences kind of breaks the wheelchair barrier. The kids can see that I’m just a regular person and we have a lot in common, even though I look a lot different than they do,” Diane says.
Her main message is one for potential champions: don’t give up, no matter what happens. “When I was a young gymnast I met a girl, an athlete named Nancy Thies. Nancy was a member of the U.S. Olympic team and one of the finest gymnasts in the country. I have never forgotten some very important things that Nancy taught me. I remember the first thing she said was, ‘Don’t be afraid to lose. She said, ‘If you fall down and you stay down, you’re a quitter and a loser and you will never win. But if you get back up and you try one more time, it will be your turn to be the champion, so just don’t give up.’” Diane says she made a promise to herself that she would remember that advice and never give up, no matter how many times she fell.
Once she faced the hardest fall of her life, not giving up was difficult, especially because of her wheelchair. The whole time she was in gymnastics, whether she was swinging high above the uneven parallel bars or just doing handstands for fun, she was only afraid of being blind or paralyzed. “I was so paranoid of wheelchairs that I would never talk to anybody in a wheelchair or go near a wheelchair. In stores, if somebody in a wheelchair was down an aisle, I’d never go down that aisle, no way. I was paranoid that I’d end up in one if I got too close. It was almost like having thought about it so much kind of prepared me,” she says.
It was probably Diane’s indomitable spirit that prepared her more than anything else. It’s a spirit that comes through in both her funny stories and her powerfully quiet testimony about the importance of an eternal perspective and God’s love for each of his children. It’s a spirit that Diane has always had. “I’ve never met anyone, except my father, who has a stronger testimony than she does,” says Marie. “There’s no doubt in her mind that what she’s doing is right and that the Church is true. She has always been a great example.”
The lights dim when she finishes her message, and a slide show featuring Diane, the ham and gymnast, flashes on the screen in time to some upbeat music. When it’s over, young people swarm around her, enveloping her tiny frame and wheelchair with their excitement.
Diane says, “It makes me feel really good when people tell me they’re going to try harder after they’ve heard my talk. One girl came to me once and told me she’d heard me speak four different times. The first time, she decided not to commit suicide. The second time, she decided that she didn’t have to flunk out of school. The third time, she made a goal to make the honor roll, and the last time she was on her way to that goal.” Another champion in the making, thanks to Diane.
Diane just shrugs and laughs a little when someone tells her she’s wonderful. She even looks a little embarrassed, which is rare for this experienced performer. “People always think, ‘You’re so amazing, you’re so incredible,’ but I’m not. People will say, ‘If that happened to me I could never cope with it,’ and the thing I have to say is, ‘Either you cope or you die.’ You have to take whatever life gives you and deal with it, even if you might not want to. You know, if somebody dies in your family, you have to live with it. If you break your neck you have to live with it, but you just learn and that’s what’s so great about time and the healing process. You don’t have to be miraculous.”
You just have to be as willing as Diane was to get up again, so that someday it will be your turn to be the champion. For Diane, the victory is especially sweet, because she has won back what she thought she’d lost.
She is a champion again.

Brenna Pink, a Beehive from the Rockford Illinois Second Ward, Rockford Illinois Stake, is the latest participant in an activity that seems to be growing in popularity among LDS Young Women—completing all of the Young Women Personal Progress goals instead of just a selected few.
Why would anyone go so far out of her way?
“Completing Young Women goals makes you feel good,” she says. “I learned a lot about Heavenly Father and the scriptures.”
Brenna says that while some goals, like evaluating plays and dance concerts, were easy, the hard ones really helped her become a better person.
“For one of my goals in the category of Integrity, I didn’t listen to bad jokes or bad language. I tried to change the conversation to better topics and to keep myself out of bad situations.”

Illustration by Jake Parker
The phone rang. I picked it up.
“Benjamin? This is Sister Adams. I’m organizing an activity night for the widows in the ward and was wondering if you’d be willing to help out. The activity is dancing, but don’t worry, you don’t really need any experience. It’s just for fun.”
Fun? Silently wishing I’d never picked up the phone, I replied, “Well, Sister Adams, I don’t even know the basics—I mean, I can waltz, but that’s about it.”
“That will be perfect, Benjamin. I’m also calling some other priests, so you won’t be the only one. The activity starts at seven next Wednesday, OK?”
“OK, Sister Adams. I’ll be there.”
“Great,” I sarcastically muttered to myself as I hung up the phone.
During the week I almost forgot about my dancing engagement. Almost. When Wednesday night rolled around, I didn’t feel any particular desire to hurry as I prepared for the activity. I arrived late and went to the gym, where the dance was being held. As I opened the door, I saw rows upon rows of old women sitting in metal folding chairs. Then my attention turned to the dance floor, where one solitary priest was awkwardly moving to the triple-meter beat of the waltz, widow in hand.
“Kevin, where are the rest of the priests?” I asked, walking up to him as he finished his dance.
“They aren’t here. We’re the only ones.”
“Great,” I muttered as I moved toward the rows of widows. “Hello, ma’am. Would you like to dance?” I inquired of one of the widows.
“Oh, no thank you. My legs can’t take the exertion. But I’m sure Harriett would like to. Harriet,” she called to one of her companions, “come dance with this young man!”
All the widows urged Harriett forward.
“All right, all right,” she said.
She took my hand, and I led her to the floor. “Now be careful,” she said. “I have some lung problems, and my hips don’t work very well.”
“I’ll be very careful,” I assured her, smiling.
“You know, I met my husband on the dance floor,” she said as we started to waltz slowly.
“Really? What dance?”
“The fox-trot,” she said. “He was dashing. And what a dancer.”
We finished our dance, and I took her back to her seat. “Thank you for the dance. You are a lovely dancer,” she said.
“Thank you,” I said, grateful for the somewhat ill-founded compliment.
I found that I enjoyed myself more than I thought possible. All the dances went the same way—most ladies making a witty remark about knee replacements or scoliosis, telling stories of their husbands and better days of youth, and giving me very sweet compliments as we finished.
I left the Church building, replaying the widows’ stories in my head. I laughed out loud at their wit, and I was awed by their wisdom. I shook my head and chuckled. “What a charming group of women,” I thought. “I would do it again in a heartbeat.”

After crossing the Arkansas River on September 16, the new battalion commander, Lieutenant A. J. Smith, sent most of the women and children to the Mexican village of Pueblo (in present-day Colorado) for the winter. The soldiers were upset because they had been promised that their families could travel with them to California. But it was a wise decision because the battalion marched at a rapid pace with little time to rest. Just a month later, a group of sick men and women were also sent to Pueblo.
The weary soldiers trudged into Santa Fe, New Mexico, on October 9, 1846. Colonel Philip St. George Cooke became their new commander, with orders to blaze a wagon trail from Santa Fe to California. The work wore heavily on the battalion, and in November 1846, a third group of fifty-five weakened and tired soldiers turned back for Pueblo.

“We get to hear the prophet speak today!” Chase said to his little sister, Amelie.
Amelie was excited too. They had learned about prophets in family home evening just last Monday. A prophet is a person who has been called by God and speaks for Him. The prophet receives commandments and revelations from God and then shares them with Heavenly Father’s children. Mom had shown Chase and Amelie pictures of President Monson. They decided to draw their own pictures of the prophet too.
Now Chase and Amelie were going to a devotional to hear President Thomas S. Monson speak to them.
“Let’s bring our pictures,” Chase said.
Chase and Amelie took their pictures of President Monson off the refrigerator door.
“This is going to be more fun than the circus or the zoo!” Chase said.
When they got to the devotional, Chase and Amelie stared at all the people in the huge stadium. Almost all of the seats were filled. Chase and Amelie had to sit behind the stand. All they could see was the back of President Monson’s head.
President Monson spoke about prophets God had called in the latter days. The prophets were righteous men who followed God.
After the closing prayer, President Monson turned to leave the stadium. He headed right toward Chase and Amelie! They excitedly held up their pictures so President Monson could see them.
President Monson smiled when he saw Chase and Amelie’s pictures.
“Oh, how nice,” he said. “How about a high five?” President Monson held up his hand to Chase and Amelie.
Chase and Amelie each gave President Monson a high five. They were so happy to meet the prophet. They truly knew that he was a prophet of God.

One experience I had while attending graduate school was critical to continuing on my path. While I was working on a class assignment in architecture school, late one night, which wasn’t at all unusual, I was praying for help on the assignment and the spirit told me, “Move to Arizona.” What? Move away from Salt Lake, where the church was, where I thought I would work someday? Why would I move away from a future job location where I was supposed to be? This wasn’t on the path. I asked my father if he would give me a father’s blessing. It proved to be the guide that I needed at that time. Gayle and I had peace come to our hearts as the work in Salt Lake slowed way down and a friend of mine who was working in Mesa, Arizona called and asked if I would be willing to move down there and work because he was very busy.

For the next ten years, I worked in private practice trying to complete the requirements for my license as well as just making a living. During this time, my partner and I did a number of projects for the church, which exposed me to people inside the church organization working on buildings. This gave me a lot of experience, more than I had planned on.

When he returned to London and resumed composing operas, his work was not well received, and creditors began to hound him again. In the depths of despondency, he began to wonder, “Why did God permit my resurrection, only to allow my fellow-men to bury me again?”3 In April 1741 Handel held what he assumed would be a farewell concert. His creativity was spent. A biographer wrote: “There was nothing to begin or to finish. Handel was faced with emptiness.”4
Late one August afternoon that same year, Handel returned from a long and tiring walk to find that a poet and previous collaborator, Charles Jennens, had left him a manuscript. This libretto quoted liberally from the scriptures, particularly the words of Isaiah, foretelling the birth of Jesus Christ and describing His ministry, Crucifixion, and Resurrection. The work was to be an oratorio. Given his previous failures, Handel was apprehensive as he began to read through the text.
“Comfort Ye,” the first words of the manuscript, seemed to leap from the page. They dissipated dark clouds that had been pressing upon Handel for so long. His depression waned and his emotions warmed from interest to excitement as he continued to read of angelic proclamations of the Savior’s birth and of Isaiah’s prophecies of the Messiah, who would come to earth to be born as other mortal infants. A familiar melody Handel had composed earlier flooded into his mind as he read “For unto Us a Child Is Born.” The notes distilled upon his mind faster than he could put pencil to paper as he captured the image of the loving Good Shepherd in the aria titled “He Shall Feed His Flock.” Then came the overpowering exultation reflected in the “Hallelujah Chorus,” followed by the soft, supernal testimony of “I Know That My Redeemer Liveth.” The work came to its majestic conclusion with “Worthy Is the Lamb.”
After all the music he had composed throughout his lifetime, Handel would eventually be known worldwide for this singular work, Messiah, largely composed in just three weeks during the late summer of 1741. Upon completing his composition, he humbly acknowledged, “God has visited me.”5 Those who feel the touch of the Holy Spirit as they experience the overpowering testimony of Handel’s Messiah would agree.

Davide and his family are converts to the Church. Before he was even baptized, Davide learned how important scripture study is. His brother was the first to be baptized, and his parents soon followed. Davide knew that he needed his own testimony. As he studied the Book of Mormon, he felt the Spirit. The good feelings he felt helped him make the decision to join the Church.

Four years later, Davide still relies on guidance from the Spirit. “We have to be constant. We can’t slack off in our scripture study and prayer,” he says.