Gospel Story Finder

As a small boy on the farm during the searing heat of the summer, I remember my grandmother Mary Finlinson cooking our delicious meals on a hot woodstove. When the wood box next to the stove became empty, Grandmother would silently pick up the box, go out to refill it from the pile of cedar wood outside, and bring the heavily laden box back into the house. I was so insensitive and interested in the conversation in the kitchen, I sat there and let my beloved grandmother refill the kitchen wood box. I feel ashamed of myself and have regretted my omission for all of my life. I hope someday to ask for her forgiveness.

It is significant to note just what took place at the time of the passing of President Harold B. Lee. President Romney had been called to the hospital and as they talked, President Lee, realizing that he might be incapacitated for some time, said to President Romney: “President Tanner is away, and I want you to take over and carry on the affairs of the Church.” President Kimball, who came in later, offered his services to President Romney. However, immediately upon the announcement of President Lee’s passing, President Romney turned to President Kimball and said: “You, as the president of the Quorum of the Twelve, are now in charge. I am at your disposal and prepared to do anything I can to help.”
This was entirely in keeping with the order of the Church and is a great example of how the Church is never left without a presidency and how smoothly it passes from one to another. Immediately President Kimball, as president of the Twelve, became the presiding authority of the Church.

That August, Apostle Luke S. Johnson ordained 16-year-old Erastus to be an elder. The new elder then became junior companion to Apostle William E. McLellin during a trip into New Hampshire. At Littleton they parted, and Erastus headed West, preaching on the way and performing his first baptism—Zadock Parker. That fall he “baptized many people and organized a branch of the Church in the towns of Lyman and Littleton, in New Hampshire.”

I have a blog where I write about modest fashion and style, because it can be challenging to dress modestly in a world where modesty is unpopular. I used to rely on my parents’ testimonies. I didn’t have my own until I was a young woman and started attending seminary. I found a desire to read the scriptures, and that’s when my faith began to grow. Now I feel in my heart for myself that the gospel of Jesus Christ is true.
Laura P., 18, Philippines

Matthew put his head down and walked faster. He tried not to see the white stucco house ahead. He knew he should stop. Mother would probably ask him, “Did you see Grandma today?” He sighed. He used to stop almost every day on his way home from school.
Then Grandpa died.
Matthew hadn’t known what to say to Grandma since Grandpa died. She was sad now. Sometimes when she talked about Grandpa, she cried.
Other people seemed to know what to say to Grandma. They put their arms around her and told her not to cry. But Matthew never knew what to say or do. He just stood there feeling uncomfortable.
Matthew walked up the sidewalk and knocked on the door. Grandma opened it. Her eyes were red. Matthew’s heart sank. He wished he had walked on past her house.
“Come in, dear.”
Matthew went in. He saw a box on the floor in the hall. Inside was a small rosebush, its roots wrapped with burlap and packing.
Every year Grandpa ordered a new rosebush for his garden. He must have ordered this one before he died.
“Take it home with you, Matthew. I can’t bear to look at it,” sniffed Grandma.
“No,” said Matthew. He gulped, surprised at himself, then plunged on. “Grandpa would have wanted you to plant it. He loved the garden, especially the rosebushes.” Matthew had spent many hours helping Grandpa in the garden.
Grandma was silent. Matthew thought she was angry with him. He wished he hadn’t said anything.
“You’re right, Matthew. Grandpa would have wanted that rosebush planted in the garden. I’ve never planted a rosebush before, though.”
“I’ll help you, Grandma,” Matthew offered. “I helped Grandpa lots of times.”
Grandma changed into old clothes while Matthew went to the garage to get a shovel.
Soon the two of them had a big hole dug in one corner of the garden. It was hard work. By the time the rosebush was in place, they were panting. The afternoon sun was almost behind the hills.
Grandma stood for a moment and looked at the rosebush. Her cheeks were red, and her eyes sparkled. “Is it all right, Matthew?”
“Yes, Grandma. It’s fine. It’s where Grandpa would have wanted it.”
Matthew put the shovel away. When he went inside, Grandma was in the kitchen. “I’d better go home, Grandma. Mom will be worried.”
“It’s all right. I called her. She knows where you are. Matthew, I want to show you something.” Grandma reached into a kitchen drawer and pulled out a box of seed packets. “These came in the mail last week. I was going to throw them away. I was just thinking … maybe I’ll try to plant them after all. Would you help me? I’ve never been much of a gardener.”
“I sure will, Grandma,” said Matthew. “I’ll stop by tomorrow after school.”
Matthew went out the door and down the sidewalk whistling a happy tune.

At one of the stake conferences to which I was assigned, a home teacher was invited to be a speaker at the general session on Sunday morning. He began by telling about a man who accidentally fell into the waters of the Niagara River some distance above the falls. As he was carried downstream by the current, he called out repeatedly, “Which way to shore? Which way to shore?” There were people along the banks on both sides of the river who saw and heard this man but they were slow to act. They noticed that he could swim and was keeping himself afloat, so they concluded that he was engaged in some kind of a publicity stunt and gave him no further attention. However, when he reached the point where he was precariously close to the falls some of the people along the banks went into action and tried to get ropes to him to pull him from the water. But they had waited too long and he went over the brink of the falls and was killed. When his body was recovered and identification made, the horizons of those along the banks of the river were pushed back and their understandings improved and increased. Yes, the man could swim, but he could not swim with purpose or direction because he was blind.

In 1959, I received that invitation. I did not even know of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. At a dance, I met a young lady who was raised in the gospel. I was attracted to her. She said to me, “You know, I could never consider marrying you unless it were in the temple.” I responded to that invitation and was taught the gospel. She is now my eternal companion. I will ever be grateful that that was the invitation she extended to me, for it transformed my life.

On your mark, get set, go!
And the winner is …
… Nathan!
You get to go to the Provincial Track Meet! You’ll race against the fastest kids in British Columbia.
No way! I can’t wait.
Later that week …
Your coach just sent over the schedule for the meet.
Oh no … the meet is on Sunday!
Should I go? What if this is my only chance? I might not make it again next year.
Sorry, Coach. I don’t do races on Sunday. I want to keep the Sabbath day holy.
I’m glad I put Christ first. I know I made the right choice.

Juan Rodríguez is from the La Romana Stake in the Dominican Republic. He was baptized at the age of 13 and promptly took the action part of the gospel seriously. He enthusiastically shared the gospel message with the people in Mexico on his mission in 2014 and when he returned home, his passion for the gospel increased. For reasons of employment, he moved to a small community near Punta Cana called Verón, and there he likened the revelation given to Hyrum to himself when he was called to be the branch president. Juan knew that he and his counselors were being called of God to establish the cause of Zion in his hometown.
Together in prayer, with others in the area, they brought the Church out of obscurity through connecting with the community’s needs. They created activities like, Night at the Movies for the young single adults and International Day of Our Heritage as the community bonded together over delicious food. The youth also connected with the community on the International Day of Service as they cleaned a public school or did fundraisers. Through these events, the community became interested in the Church and the missionaries were kept busy teaching lessons and challenging friends to be baptized.
All this time, the members were meeting in a rented building that increasingly became too small for their growing group of Saints. Juan and his counselors believed, “If you will ask of me you shall receive; if you will knock it shall be opened unto you” (Doctrine and Covenants 11:5). So, they went to their stake president and asked how they could build a meetinghouse. Leaving the meeting with the Church guidelines to receive a meetinghouse for their congregation, they were filled with the spirit knowing that “A great and marvelous work [was] about to come forth among the children of men” (Doctrine and Covenants 11:1). Through faith and effort, they would fulfill scripture right there in Verón.
During a period of four years, the branch became a ward, the guidelines were met, and in April of 2022, land was purchased, followed by the groundbreaking ceremony on Jan. 20, 2023. The meetinghouse is anticipated to be completed early in 2024 and will be a monument of faith and hard work.

Recently I talked to an old friend who has gone through two divorces due to the addictions and unfaithfulness of her husbands. She and her three children have suffered greatly. She pleaded, “I have tried so hard to live righteously. Why have I had so many trials? What have I done wrong? What does Heavenly Father want me to do? I pray and read my scriptures, help my children, and go to the temple often.”

As I listened to this sister, I felt like shouting out, “You are doing it! You are doing all that Heavenly Father wants and hopes you will do!”

Understandably, many have expressed that our Father’s promised blessings are just “way too far away,” particularly when our lives are overflowing with challenges. But Amulek taught that “this life is the time … to prepare to meet God.” It is not the time to receive all of our blessings. President Packer explained: “‘And they all lived happily ever after’ is never written into the second act. That line belongs in the third act, when the mysteries are solved and everything is put right.” However, a vision of our Father’s incredible promised blessings must be the central focus before our eyes every day—as well as an awareness “of the multitude of his tender mercies” that we experience on a daily basis.

Sisters, I do not know why we have the many trials that we have, but it is my personal feeling that the reward is so great, so eternal and everlasting, so joyful and beyond our understanding that in that day of reward, we may feel to say to our merciful, loving Father, “Was that all that was required?” I believe that if we could daily remember and recognize the depth of that love our Heavenly Father and our Savior have for us, we would be willing to do anything to be back in Their presence again, surrounded by Their love eternally. What will it matter, dear sisters, what we suffered here if, in the end, those trials are the very things which qualify us for eternal life and exaltation in the kingdom of God with our Father and Savior?

I testify that our bodies are sacred gifts from our Heavenly Father and that as we keep our lives pure and clean through the atoning sacrifice of our Savior and keep the vision of our Father’s promised rewards daily in front of us, we will one day receive “all that [our] Father hath.” In the sacred name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Shortly after my baptism in August 1984, I heard about a fun activity with music and barbeque not far from where I lived in Kwekwe, Zimbabwe. My friends and I were excited to go, but it was on Sunday. My friends were not members of the Church.
I told them, “I’ll go to church but sneak out after sacrament meeting and join you.”
My friends, who knew my weakness, said, “If you do that you will miss out. By the time you come, the barbecue will be over.”
I had a decision to make. Do I go to church or the barbecue? I chose the barbecue but found out Sunday morning that it had been canceled. By that time, it was too late to go to church, so I just stayed in my little rented room.
Early that afternoon, I heard a voice: “Does Eddie Dube live here?”
It was my branch president, John Newbold, with his wife, Jean. I wanted to hide under my bed! But before I could do anything, they stood by the curtain that separated my room from the rest of the house.
“Oh, Eddie,” they said, “we missed you at church today.”
We talked a while, and after they left, their kind words, “Eddie, we missed you,” continued to go through my mind. I am grateful for John and Jean Newbold. Since that day, I have been blessed because they helped me see, in a personal way, our Savior Jesus Christ’s love and concern for the one.
To this day, I am still in touch with John and Jean Newbold. Over all these years, I feel joy because of the love they extended to me. And they have felt joy in seeing me progress in the gospel. This is what can happen when we minister—we and those we serve become closer to one another and more connected with the Savior.

We were still living in our home country, Argentina, when my husband and I started our family. We were returned missionaries and knew it was a blessing to be married in the Lord’s temple. We were excited to walk the path back to Heavenly Father together.
We knew that the plan of salvation included trials, but we trusted that we would be able to overcome anything through faith and prayer. But we did not expect adversity to come upon us without stopping. Trial after trial seemed to rain down upon us.
One afternoon I was alone, feeling very sad and crying inconsolably because of our trials. I didn’t know what to do. Every time I tried to stop crying, I only felt more depressed and anguished.
I then thought about the many men and women who shared with me how valuable prayer had been for them during difficult moments. I had a testimony of prayer, but my mind and spirit were so tormented that I thought I wouldn’t be able to find the words to say.
In tears, I knelt by my bed and with all of my heart, I asked Heavenly Father for comfort and peace. I didn’t ask for a solution or even for the trial to disappear. I just asked for peace.
While I was praying, I heard a knock on my front door. I opened it, with tears still in my eyes, and saw a sister from Relief Society. She told me she was working in the area and had stopped by on her motorcycle. All I could do was hug her. She said, “I don’t know why, but I felt I needed to stop by and see you.”
We sat at my kitchen table and she helped me calm down. After talking with her for a few minutes, I finally started to feel that I wasn’t alone and that Heavenly Father had heard my prayer.
It is a blessing to be able to talk to my Heavenly Father through prayer. He listened to me in my hour of need and sent one of His children to help me. I’m grateful this sister heard the inspiration of the Spirit and followed it.

Sometimes the tables are reversed. A dear and cherished young friend, Wendy Bennion of Salt Lake City, was such an example. Just the day before yesterday, she quietly departed mortality and returned “to that God who gave [her] life” (Alma 40:11). She had struggled for over five long years in her battle with cancer. Ever cheerful, always reaching out to help others, never losing faith, she had a contagious smile that attracted others to her as a magnet attracts metal shavings. While Wendy was ill and in pain, a friend of hers, feeling downcast with her own situation, visited her. Nancy, Wendy’s mother, knowing Wendy was in extreme pain, felt that perhaps the friend had stayed too long. She asked Wendy, after the friend had left, why she had allowed her to stay so long when she herself was in so much pain. Wendy’s response: “What I was doing for my friend was a lot more important than the pain I was having. If I can help her, then the pain is worth it.” Wendy’s attitude was reminiscent of Him who bore the sorrows of the world, who patiently suffered excruciating pain and disappointment, but who, with silent step of His sandaled feet, passed by a man who was blind from birth, restoring his sight. He approached the grieving widow of Nain and raised her son from the dead. He trudged up Calvary’s steep slope, carrying His own cruel cross, undistracted by the constant jeers and taunting that accompanied His every step. For He had an appointment with divine destiny. In a very real way He visits us, each one, with His teachings. He brings cheer and inspires goodness. He gave His precious life that the grave would be deprived of its victory, that death would lose its sting, that life eternal would be our gift.

My parents did not have a loving marriage. My mom, striving and resilient, tried to make the relationship work for her children’s sakes, but when it became physically dangerous for us to remain with him, she decided to free herself from the 16-year marriage that had drained so much life from her.
Before their divorce, I had been unaware that their marriage wasn’t a loving one, although I did have moments of doubt. There were several incidents where I witnessed the lack of love between my parents, but I didn’t start recognizing them for what they were until years later. Now I look back and can see that even though my parents tried to make the marriage work, they didn’t like each other—they tolerated each other.
After the divorce, I realized I couldn’t use my parents’ marriage as a model for my own future marriage. For a while I didn’t know what a strong, happy marriage looked like. Then, a few years after my parents’ divorce, I started noticing the big differences between their marriage and marriages in which the spouses truly loved and liked each other.
To counterbalance the negativity of my parents’ marriage, Heavenly Father has blessed me with an abundance of “power couples” in my extended family—aunts and uncles and grandparents who have very strong marriages. Whenever I’m at family gatherings or visiting relatives, I watch these couples closely, noting things they do or have that I want in my own future marriage. One uncle easily and habitually slips his arm around his wife’s shoulders and jokes with her in whispers. An aunt always takes time out of her busy schedule to talk with her husband when he gets home from work. And another couple does almost everything together.
There’s romantic love: sweet kisses (often in public), affectionate nicknames, and holding hands. But there’s also deep friendship: humble apologies, good-natured laughter, and impressive teamwork. They understand that, as Jeffrey R. Holland of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles explained, “the first element of divine love … is its kindness, its selfless quality, its lack of ego and vanity and consuming self-centeredness.”1 These friendships have developed over time as both spouses continually live the principles of the gospel—treating each other with Christlike kindness and respect. They seem to live President Russell M. Nelson’s counsel that “marriages would be happier if nurtured more carefully.”2 Through these fantastic examples of friendship-based marriages, I have seen that liking my future husband will be as important as loving him.
Here are some things I’ve observed spouses doing when they like as well as love each other:
They want to spend more time with each other than with other people.
They feel comfortable doing or talking about anything with each other.
They work toward the same goals.
They find the middle ground often, but they also are willing to yield to each other when they see that the other spouse needs it.
They aren’t afraid to be openly affectionate with each other.
They listen attentively to each other.
They make time for each other.
They work together.
They have fun together.
They read the scriptures and pray together.
They go to the temple together.
They see each other as blessings (see 1 Nephi 16:7–8).
These are ideal aspects of marriage, of course. And as Elder Robert D. Hales (1932–2017) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles said, “None of us marry perfection; we marry potential.”3 I have certainly seen disagreements and misunderstandings in my relatives’ marriages. But the strong couples are always able to work through their problems and become better together. Even when they don’t see eye to eye on something, they’re still best friends. Their marriage is the most important thing to them after their relationship with God.
Holding on to my grandmother’s statement that she “really likes” my grandfather, I continue to search for someone I can share that kind of deep, loving friendship with. And I strive to become the kind of person that someone would want to be best friends with.
Attraction and romance are definitely important, but the most common factor I see in strong marriages is deep friendship. I can now say for certain that a marriage built on friendship—which is, in turn, built on the gospel of Jesus Christ—is the most likely to last for eternity.

“Hurry up, kids!” Dad called. “I found a sacrament meeting that starts in an hour.”
We had driven all the way to California for a week of going to the beach, sleeping late, eating lots of ice cream, and visiting amusement parks. But today was Sunday, and Dad had been on the phone looking for a ward for us to attend.
“It’s hard to get ready for church on vacation,” I thought. My dress was wrinkled, and my brother Mike had left his Sunday shoes at home. My little sister Ruthie kept turning on the TV and opening every drawer and closet in our small hotel room. Finally we were ready.
The drive to church was longer than we expected, and by the time we arrived, the deacons had just finished passing the sacrament. We quietly slipped into a back row and listened to the rest of the meeting. Even though we didn’t know any of the people there, it felt just like home. We sang “We Thank Thee, O God, for a Prophet,” and one of the speakers told a story I had heard in Primary the week before.
After the meeting, Dad disappeared for a minute. When he came back, he said, “I just talked to the bishop. Another sacrament meeting starts in 15 minutes. You can stay cozy right here.”
“What? Why? We just went to sacrament meeting!” Mike protested.
“Yes, but we missed the sacrament,” Dad explained.
“But we heard all the talks and songs. Dad, we’re on vacation,” I whined.
Dad thought for a minute. “Michelle, you remember your baptism, don’t you?”
“Yes.” I had been baptized a few months before.
“Well, you remember that Mom and the bishop gave talks, Mike played the piano, and Sister Tueller led the opening and closing songs?”
“Yes.”
“What was the most important part of your baptism? What were we all there for?” Dad asked.
“My baptism, of course!”
“Right. And taking the sacrament is the reason we come to sacrament meeting.”
I thought about how silly it would be to attend your baptism and leave before getting baptized. I realized that the sacrament must be even more important than I thought.
“Taking the sacrament is the most important thing we’ll do all week,” Dad said.
“More important than going to the beach?” Ruthie asked.
Dad smiled and pulled Ruthie onto his lap. “Even more important than going to the beach.”
We all chuckled. After all, we were on vacation.

Brother Nibley, a concert pianist and BYU faculty member, was asked to write a song about testimony. He wrote quickly because the words and music came at the same time. “I Know My Father Lives” was very simple, so Brother Nibley began adding notes. It became more and more complicated, so he erased all the unnecessary notes. When he finished erasing, the song was just as it had been written the first time!

The Mia Maids had a problem.
“Two of the most popular girls (in Mia Maids) decided that ‘having fun’ was more important than living the gospel,” explains Sarah Tunnell of the Snohomish (Washington) Second Ward. “They stopped coming to church.”
Sarah, first counselor in the Mia Maid presidency, and Tresa Brown, the president, felt they needed to do something to help keep others from making the same mistake.
“I had just finished reading the Book of Mormon for the first time,” Sarah says. “And I said, ‘If everyone would just read the Book of Mormon, they’d have a testimony, and the possibility of their going inactive would be a lot smaller.’”
Sarah and Tresa looked through a clip art book, found a calendar, and worked out a schedule for reading the Book of Mormon. They also outlined a system for calling all the Mia Maids and reminding them of their reading goals.
“We had a presidency meeting that night,” Sarah continues. “The Laurel president happened to come by, and she said, ‘Hey, we want to do that!’ So we said, ‘Okay, but we can’t leave out the Beehives.’ So we called the Beehive president, and she said, ‘Us too!’ We started the next week.”
The idea was simple. “You can’t really bribe them. They can buy their own candy or ice cream. We decided the best thing was to provide a calendar and then just remind them and encourage them. Anyway, that was the limit of what we could do with our teenage income, which is nonexistent.”
Since then, the program has gone through some fine tuning, tailoring daily goals to individual abilities, incorporating “catch-up” days for those who get behind, coordinating with seminary reading schedules to avoid duplication, etc. And some have read more than others.
“I haven’t read as much as I’m supposed to,” one Beehive admitted. “But thanks to Sarah, I have read something.”
And the major goal, “Just to have them open the book, to have some kind of daily contact with it,” as Sarah says, has been met by just about everyone. In fact, last Sunday in ward council meeting, they were discussing a Book of Mormon reading program for the entire ward.

“The year I turned 17, I studied the Book of Mormon in seminary. I hadn’t intended to take seminary, but I quickly became fascinated by my teacher’s lessons. Little by little I began to want to read the Book of Mormon, even though I did not understand what I read. It was hard to stick to my determination to read it to the end, but I was guided by the Spirit to continue reading every day.
“Seven months later the memory of a particular scripture I had read struck me forcefully, and I decided to pray. The first words I addressed to my Heavenly Father were difficult, and I was troubled. But during that personal prayer a warmth filled and surrounded me, and I perceived that my Heavenly Father was listening and that he loved me.
“Reading the Book of Mormon was only the beginning of my conversion. Since that time I have had to continue to work to repent and live the gospel daily. But now I know that Jesus Christ is my guide and my example. I need only follow him and, as he commanded, ‘do the things which ye have seen me do’ (2 Ne. 31:12).”
Nicolas Billings,Nogent Ward,Paris France East Stake

Surrounded by a crowd of young women, Ariel Liston walked into her bedroom with her eyes closed. Slowly, as she opened her eyes, she lifted her hands to her face and began to cry.
“You guys did this for me? It’s so awesome. Wow! It’s so pretty!”
Ariel, a Mia Maid in the Orchard First Ward, Bountiful Utah Orchard Stake, couldn’t contain her happiness when she saw her “new” room. She loved the bright paint, the curtains, the dresser with her name lovingly stenciled on it, but most of all she was crying because she realized how much the other young women in the ward loved her.
Ariel’s room had needed some work. There were holes in the walls, the carpet was ragged, and she didn’t have a closet to hang her clothes in. Angela Gatherum, a Laurel in the ward, had similar needs in her own bedroom.
Knowing that these two girls needed help, the young women in their ward got together to remodel Ariel’s and Angela’s rooms. On a small budget, they transformed the girls’ bedrooms into beautiful living spaces. They painted, organized, made accessories and art pieces, refinished old furniture rescued from Deseret Industries and ward members, and even tore up flooring (all with parental permission, of course).
Their activity took all day, but their hard work and creativity paid off. When the young women were done, they led the girls into their rooms with their eyes closed.
“It was amazing to see the look on Ariel’s face when she opened her eyes,” says Angela, who helped remodel Ariel’s room. “I loved to see all the girls come together for the sake of serving.”
Elaine Petersen, a Mia Maid, agrees: “Seeing Ariel’s face was priceless. It made me want to do her whole house!”
The girls did a lot of work and were tired and dirty when they were done, but it was worth it. “It didn’t seem like it was work, it was so much fun!” says Katie Mortensen, a Mia Maid.
Melissa Anderson, a Beehive says, “I felt like I had made a difference.”
Not only did the girls learn some valuable decorating and cleaning skills, they also learned about how powerful they can be when they work together for a righteous cause. “This project took all of us to complete it,” says Heidi Anderson, a Laurel. “It wouldn’t have worked as well if we wouldn’t have had everyone there.”
Ariel and Angela got in on the fun, too, as they helped remodel each other’s rooms. They weren’t allowed to go into their own rooms until the other young women were finished. They were so grateful for the help they received in making their rooms more pleasant places to be. “Your surroundings have such a huge effect on the way you feel and act,” says Angela.
She thinks what the young women did for her is amazing. “My room is something I see every day, and so every day I am reminded of all the love and work that went into it on my behalf. It really makes me feel loved.”
Above Ariel’s bed the young women hung a hand-painted sign. It reads, “To every thing there is a season” (Eccl. 3:1). For the young women of the Orchard First Ward, their activity wasn’t just a season to paint, fix, and decorate; it was a season to love, serve, and give.

Some years ago while I was serving as an Area Seventy we lost a dear friend who served as the Relief Society President in our stake when I was serving as the Stake President.
The energy and strong faith of this sister was evident everywhere she went as she blessed the sisters in our Stake by helping them to see the importance of living the gospel.
Then one day she was diagnosed with liver cancer and was told that recovery from this type of cancer would be very difficult. Her family and the entire stake were devastated and over the next many months countless prayers were offered on her behalf. Then after more than two years of treatment, she found out she was cured. It was a miracle.
However, just a few months later the cancer came back, this time effecting her pancreas. The doctors tried everything possible but with no positive results.
Several months went past and then one morning while I was traveling in my car her husband called me and asked me if I could come to see them since he felt his wife did not have much time left. I immediately turned the car around and drove to their home.
While there I visited with their sons. The youngest son was in his room where he sat quietly not understanding what was happening. The oldest son understood the situation and was taking good care of his mother in her final hours. As she lay on her bed in the living room I noticed that there was not much left of this once so energetic sister. After some time she noticed me. She opened her eyes and smiled at me and inquired about my family. Then later she silently took her journey into the spirit world.
Before she died She had asked me to speak at her funeral and to help lowering her body into the grave (Belgium Tradition).
I will never forget standing there with the end of one of the four rope ends in my hands looking into a dark hole in the ground and slowly lowering the casket. There were so many thoughts in my mind and some of them were frightening like “What if there were no resurrection?” “What if this were the end?” Without the resurrection there is no hope and no meaning to this life. All would be lost and the sting of death would have no end.