Gospel Story Finder

In the summer of 2012, Palakiko C. had just graduated from high school in Hawaii, USA, and was looking forward to attending Brigham Young University and serving a mission. Palakiko had done a lot to prepare for his mission already—he had accompanied the full-time missionaries all day three times, and he often went with them to visit and teach the gospel to families.
One evening Palakiko and the missionaries began teaching a part-member family with five children, ages 8 to 14, who hadn’t been baptized.
“We visited with them for six weeks,” Palakiko says. “Each week, I saw their faith increase as we taught them doctrinal principles that would help them receive eternal life.”
Soon all five children had accepted the invitation to be baptized and asked Palakiko if he would perform the baptisms. He enthusiastically agreed. Baptizing them would be a privilege and an honor. But for Palakiko, there was a more difficult challenge: they also asked him to give a talk about the Holy Ghost at the baptismal service.
Palakiko was more than a little nervous. “How was I supposed to give a talk on a day that they would remember for the rest of their lives?” he asked. “What would I say?”
In spite of his anxiety, Palakiko knew he should do it, and he started preparing for his talk that very day.
“I did everything in my power to make sure everything would go well,” he says. He prayed, read scriptures for guidance and comfort, and rehearsed the baptismal prayer in his mind. On the day of the service, the baptisms went fine. And as he gave his talk and focused on striving to have the Spirit, he felt guided in what to say.
“At no other time in my life have I felt the Spirit more than during that talk,” Palakiko says. “I’m glad I was able to be an instrument in the Lord’s hands.”
Palakiko was able to do what he needed to do because he was strengthened by the grace, or enabling power, of the Savior’s Atonement.

It was Little Wind’s unusual compassion and regard for the buffalo that caused his father to give the old four-legged special consideration. A great scaffold was prepared and its body carried on a litter to the sacred burial grounds that stood on the high jagged cliffs above the village. It was the first time such a thing had been done for any but a Sioux in the history of their people.
Little Wind climbed the steep trail in the icy November wind to the top of the butte to pay final tribute to the old buffalo. He watched as the mighty beast was hoisted up onto the scaffold, covered with furs, and secured with rope. Little Wind’s mother and little sister, Night Fawn, along with a few other village women, heaped brambles at the base of the scaffold to keep away wild animals. Then Ten Days Walking and the others left Little Wind alone to express his mourning.
When the sun had made its journey across the heavens, Little Wind turned from the wind-lashed scaffold and descended the darkened mesa to the village below.

One day a few years ago, I was feeling incredibly exhausted on the train home from work. My mind was filled with anxious and scary thoughts. This wasn’t the first time such thoughts had entered my mind, but they had been showing up more frequently, and this time, I was scared.
Suddenly, I felt so much pain in my chest, and I started finding it difficult to breathe. I began to panic. My heart was racing. When I arrived at the train station near my home, I sat down on a bench, unable to take another step.
I was soon in an ambulance on my way to the hospital, certain I was going to die.
A few months before this incident, I’d become overwhelmed by a number of events in my life, and my mental health began to suffer. I had been feeling depressed and a lot of self-loathing. I had been meeting with a counselor, but I knew that I needed more help. Even so, I hadn’t been able to bring myself to see a doctor. I just didn’t want to be judged or to be seen as weak, and I felt ashamed of what I was experiencing.
I felt this way because in Japan, people don’t often talk about mental and emotional issues, and if they do, the issues aren’t discussed outside of one’s own family.
At the hospital, the doctors concluded that I wasn’t dying—I had simply experienced a panic attack. So I was sent on my way once I was feeling stable.
But the next day, my heart palpitations were still happening. I knew it must be connected to my dwindling mental health, so I finally summoned the courage to make an appointment with a psychiatrist.
I was diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder, and the doctor prescribed anxiety medication for me.
To be honest, it was hard to accept this diagnosis at first. But at the same time, I was relieved when the doctor explained that this wasn’t a weakness—it was a condition that needed to be treated.
I thought I would get better quickly, but that wasn’t the case. The cycle of repeatedly feeling better and then falling back into a state of depression was frustrating.
On a particularly difficult day, I decided to turn to the Lord. And as I did, I began to see my healing process as an opportunity to humble myself, to open my mind to the reality of mental health struggles, to practice acceptance and patience, and to rely more on Heavenly Father and the Savior.
Believing that They could heal me, I started praying diligently for strength and for guidance to resources that could help me. I also felt inspired to ask my ministering brothers for priesthood blessings on really difficult days. Even though I wasn’t fully healed right away, every time I would receive a priesthood blessing, I was able to feel peace in my heart, direction, and hope.
I truly did feel that “immediate goodness of God” that Elder Kyle S. McKay of the Seventy once spoke of. “Even while we are patiently waiting upon the Lord,” he said, “there are certain blessings that come to us immediately.”1
I had never imagined that I would struggle with mental health challenges. However, through this experience, I’ve learned anew that the Lord is aware of each of us.
I witnessed this when I decided to take a break from work to help my mind heal. In speaking with my boss, I was surprised by how much compassion and understanding he showed me. He also told me that he was certified in mental health counseling.
I felt that it wasn’t a coincidence that I worked for this man, especially given the fact that mental health isn’t openly discussed in Japan. I became so much more aware of Heavenly Father’s mercy and influence in the details of our lives.
Mental health problems can easily happen to anyone, and they are nothing to be ashamed of. They need to be treated, just as with other medical conditions or illnesses.2 Now that they are a part of my life, I feel a sense of compassion and love for others who experience similar struggles.
I’ve realized that even if many people around me don’t understand mental health challenges, the Savior does. And He has ultimately prepared a way for me to overcome this challenge. With Him, even the most difficult seasons of life can be for our good and for our spiritual growth (see Romans 8:28).
I’m still healing, but I’ve discovered that my trials can help me recognize the love that Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ have for each of us. I know that as we rely on our Father in Heaven and Savior, They will always support us in our struggles and continue to help us find hope and healing.

It was just before Christmas, and I knew I had things others could use. Room by room I went through the house, finding items we could donate to Deseret Industries. When it was finally time to go through our bedroom, my husband and I headed for our closet. We looked through our clothing.
“I don’t have anything this time,” I told him. “Do you?”
David put a number of shirts in a pile and found some shoes he no longer wore.
“What about this suit?” he asked. I had helped him pick it out years ago for a job interview. It still looked brand new.
“Honey, what do you think? It doesn’t fit anymore.”
“But it’s still like new,” I said.
“I really feel this suit needs to go,” David said. He took it from the closet.
As much as I liked the suit on him, he did have another, and after he tried this one on, I could see that it barely fit him now. I carefully laid it across the donation pile, but I didn’t feel right. Something was nagging at me. The suit didn’t belong there, and I knew it.
David went to his ties. He was ruthless in his weeding. He pulled out several and laid them with the suit, but that didn’t feel right to me either.
The suit in the pile interrupted my sleep. I wondered what was wrong with me to worry so much about a suit that didn’t fit and a bunch of old ties.
The following morning I looked at the pile of clothes. Again so strongly came the feeling that the suit didn’t belong. I took it off the pile and laid it on the bed along with some ties. After putting everything else into bags, I again looked at the suit. “Whom is it for?” I didn’t know.
I knelt beside the bed and prayed. I went to my desk and tried to think. My husband and I were the young adult leaders in the ward, so we knew who the next missionary was. It would be a while before he left. He also had a steady job, so getting a new suit wouldn’t be a problem. I called my bishop but got the answering machine.
Then there was a knock at the door. Opening the door, I was startled.
“Hi, Sister Ries,” the missionaries serving in our ward smiled.
A chill of sudden knowledge ran through me. “I don’t believe this” was all I could say. “Please stay here. I’ll be right back.”
Excitedly, I raced up the stairs while the elders laughed at my strange greeting. Such joy filled me as I brought down the suit.
“It’s a size 40 jacket,” I said, “and the pants are 33–32.” I looked at one elder, hoping.
The missionary’s face lit up. “I’m a size 40 and a 33–30 in slacks.” His face softened. “My parents and I had been praying that I’d find a suit to finish out my mission. I’ve got a little time left, and I’ve nearly worn this one clear through.”
The faithful elder accepted Heavenly Father’s gift of the suit and ties gratefully, and after I closed my door, I again went to my bedroom to kneel and thank Heavenly Father for the love He has for His children. He always listens to prayers.

Coach Ken Jenks has some good news and some bad news for the boys on his soccer team. As members of a recreation-league soccer team, they’ve had incredible success. The LDS boys, who have teamed up with nonmember friends, are some of the best soccer players in the area.
The coach starts with the good news. “Well, boys, we’ve got a great team, and the Southern California Soccer League championship is in the bag,” he says. Then his face clouds a bit, and he delivers the bad news. “But we’ll be playing three games, and one of them is on a Sunday. How do you feel about that?”
Five hands reluctantly but firmly go up. Eric Miller, 14, Jeff Jenks, 14, Justin Bonsey, 14, and twins Trent and Travis Weaver, 15, stand up and tell the group, “We can’t play on Sunday.” The boys, who are members of the Cypress First Ward, Cypress California Stake, aren’t happy about the idea of missing out on the biggest game of the season, but they are sure about their decision.
Although the controversy of the games on Sunday still continues in Orange County sports leagues, the boys’ stand is beginning to make a difference. Many local sports organizations are holding Sunday games less often.
So, as expected, the soccer team plays well on Saturday and wins easily. Then the Mormon boys wish their team the best and go to church on Sunday. The non-LDS members of the team play the championship game and lose. The team takes third place.
Eric shrugs his shoulders, “This game is a temporary thing. I really would have liked to play that championship game if it hadn’t been on Sunday, but I know that keeping the Sabbath will help me return to my Father in Heaven.”
Justin echoes Eric, “It was an individual decision for me, too. I know that it is right and so it didn’t bother me either. The next day some of the kids at school were a little upset, but I think they respected me for staying with my standards.”
And respect from peers, parents, coaches, and other players is a valuable by-product of the sacrifice these boys have made. But perhaps even more important than that is the fact that their example does not go unnoticed by the younger boys waiting for their turn to play the game—but not on Sunday.
Editor’s note: Because of the stand these and other LDS boys have made, regular-season soccer games are no longer held on Sunday in Orange County, California.

For the next several months, time seemed to stand still for me; it seemed as though my life was a continual nightmare. No one seemed to understand my situation. There was no organization or group to support me or offer understanding. My life lost all direction and meaning. I was listless, tossed like a ship without sails, rudder, or anchor. Because I lost sight of all my former goals, my feelings were almost totally dead.
After spending some time at home, I met my childhood sweetheart and we began dating. Several months later we were married, but only after a very bad courtship. Because I had no priesthood, we could not enter the temple to be married, so we settled for a civil wedding. From the beginning our relationship was unstable.
I realized that attending church was a necessary part of the repentance process I had committed myself to, but I found it an almost overwhelmingly painful experience. Over and over again I reminded myself of my condition. Many times unknowing friends called on me to say a prayer or answer a question about the lesson and I knew that the only thing I was allowed to say was, “I’m sorry—I can’t.” In many ways I was reminded of my serious transgression.
As painful as these and other situations were, I was able to bear all but one. Each week as the sacrament was blessed and passed, in my heart I grieved and wept and prayed. But, because of my transgression and excommunication, I could not seal the holy baptismal contract by partaking of the sacrament. I had broken my contract. I longed to be one with the Lord and to be freed from my mountain of guilt.
Years earlier I had experienced the powers of Satan and his followers. Now I soon learned with great clarity the divine power contained in the righteous exercise of the priesthood. I could no longer exert this power to ward off these evil influences. Over the next several months, I called on my father many times to bless both me and my house and to cast out the darkness.

But long unheralded were President Taylor’s understanding and love of people. Once, while president of the Council of the Twelve, after the Saints had reached Utah, two old and faithful brethren approached him about a strong and bitter quarrel between them. They had resolved to abide by whatever decision Brother Taylor might render. So they called on him, explained that they had seriously quarreled, and asked if he would listen to their story.
He said, “Brethren, before I hear your case, I would like very much to sing one of the songs of Zion for you.” A very talented and moving singer, President Taylor then sang a hymn to the men. Seeing its effect, he remarked that he never heard one of the songs of Zion but that he wanted to listen to one more. So the two brethren consented to hearing a second hymn. After the second song, President Taylor remarked that he had heard there was luck in odd numbers, so with their consent he would sing still another song. Afterwards he said, “Now, brethren, I do not want to wear you out, but if you will forgive me and listen to one more hymn, I promise to stop singing and will hear your case.” By the time he had finished with his fourth selection, the two brethren were melted to tears; they got up, shook hands, and asked President Taylor to excuse them for having called upon him. His singing had reconciled their feelings toward each other.

Vivian loved to write notes on colored paper. She left them around the house for her family.
One day Mommy had a surprise. “Grammie is coming to visit,” she said.
Vivian was very happy. Grammie was her grandma. She lived far away. She couldn’t visit very often.
“I can’t wait!” Vivian said. “When will she come?”
“Tonight after your bedtime,” Mommy said. “You will see her tomorrow.”
That night Vivian was very excited. It was hard for her to fall asleep.
The next morning when Vivian woke up, Grammie was there. She would be staying for five whole days!
Vivian and Grammie did lots of things together. They made cookies. They read books. And they played lots of games.
One afternoon Vivian saw Grammie putting her clothes in her suitcase.
“Are you going home?” Vivian asked.
“Yes,” Grammie said. “I am going home tomorrow. Your grandpa misses me.”
Vivian didn’t want Grammie to go. Then she had an idea. She went to find her paper and her markers.
The next morning Grammie said, “I’ll be gone when you get home from kindergarten.”
“I’ll miss you!” Vivian said. She gave Grammie a big hug.
“I’ll miss you too,” Grammie said. She looked sad.
Vivian was sad too, but she had a happy secret.
The next day, the phone rang. Mommy answered it. Then she handed it to Vivian. “It’s Grammie,” Mommy said.
“Hi, Vivian,” Grammie said. “When I got home, I found a surprise in my suitcase. Can you guess what it was?”
“A note!” Vivian said. “I put it there when you weren’t looking.”
“Your surprise made me feel so happy,” Grammie said. “It said that you love me. And I love you too.”

When I was growing up, we had a buckskin mare that got loose and ran with the wild horses in Skull Valley. Sometime later, a man who caught and sold wild horses called us. He had recognized the mare, and he returned her to us. After we got the mare back, we noticed that she ran with her head down—a horse can only survive in the desert by running with its head down, watching for gopher holes and barbed wire. If a horse stepped into a gopher hole and broke its leg, then predators would get it. There is a lesson in this experience. The Lord has arranged for you to have parents and leaders who can see the pitfalls and difficulties that can create problems for you. They can see the problems that you will be facing as you grow up. If you are willing to listen to their advice, you can avoid harm.

My life changed forever when my husband and I went to the doctor to check the gender and development of our unborn baby. I cried with joy when we discovered that I was expecting twins. But my tears turned to ones of despair as the doctor explained that a series of complications made it unlikely that the twins would survive until birth. The doctor suggested terminating the pregnancy. She said proceeding would be risky and that I would have to be hospitalized at some point.
Despite the dangers, we decided to continue the pregnancy.
On the drive home I realized the severity of the situation. I wondered how I could leave my husband and our three children and stay for an extended period in the hospital. Knowing that our babies would likely be delivered prematurely—and might not live—became overwhelming for me. I wasn’t sure I could endure this trial.
Only after I received a priesthood blessing from my husband and father-in-law did I feel peace. I realized that no matter what the outcome was, my family and I would be all right. I felt my Savior’s love and knew that He would be with us in joy or in sorrow.
Some time later, I said good-bye to my family and entered the hospital for an indefinite stay. The babies’ heart rates were monitored constantly to make sure the babies were safe. It was difficult for me to see their heart rates drop, and I wondered if they would make it to the delivery goal of 34 weeks. At 25½ weeks, one baby’s heart rate dropped to a critical level, nearly stopping. The doctors decided that if his heart didn’t start beating normally, both babies would be delivered by emergency cesarean section within minutes. I panicked when I heard the nurse call my husband and tell him that I was being prepared for surgery and that the neonatal team was standing by.
I knew that to get through this trial, I needed Heavenly Father’s help. I prayed silently, pleading that our baby would recover, thus allowing both twins the much-needed time to develop in utero. I also prayed for comfort. Once again I felt peace, just as I had when I received the priesthood blessing. I didn’t know if our babies would live or die, but I knew that no matter what, if I turned to the Lord, He would help carry my burden. As it turned out, the baby’s heartbeat returned to normal, and surgery was no longer necessary.
My stay at the hospital continued for the next two months, and there were many times we worried about our babies’ fluctuating heart rates. But fortunately, neither of the twin’s heart rates dropped as low as before. Our sons, John and Jacob, were born at 33 weeks. Their cords were intertwined with eight knots, and John—the son whose heart rate had dropped so low—had his cord wrapped around his neck twice. Our twins stayed in the hospital’s intensive care unit so their body temperatures and breathing could be regulated. Despite the potential problems associated with premature births, John and Jacob were able to come home after only 19 days.
Our twins are now toddlers, and they have no negative effects from being born prematurely. I am grateful that what began as a trial became one of the greatest blessings of my life. I was given two healthy sons, and my testimony of the power of priesthood blessings and prayer was strengthened. I am also grateful to be able to recall the peace and love I felt in knowing that the Lord was aware of my situation. I learned then that, with the Lord’s help, we will have the strength to endure our trials.

When I first attended church, I often went alone, as I was the only member in my family. At times, I struggled to feel a sense of belonging, which would increase temptations for connection in the wrong places. I realized one way I could combat this was by engaging more deeply with my congregation. As the Lord teaches us in Doctrine and Covenants 58:27, we should be “anxiously engaged in a good cause, and do many things of [our] own free will.”
I started by volunteering to help clean the chapel. I began attending all the ward activities and offering to help wherever I could. Gradually, I built deeper connections with the members of my ward. One family began inviting me to their home evenings, Sunday dinners, and even just to hang out and play games. My family and I have become great friends with them, and it’s been a beautiful experience for all of us.
By immersing myself in my ward, I’ve found opportunities to connect with others who share the same values and standards, including the law of chastity. My ward family has been a great source of support in helping me to stay faithful and strong.

It is entirely possible that 99 percent of the population of the United States dreads the jolting buzz of the alarm clock. But piano lessons make the alarm obsolete. For example, just the other morning while sleeping as soundly as Cinderella in a feather bed, my conscience began mumbling: “5:00 A.M. … piano lesson … self-discipline … out of bed … 5:00 A.M.”
“Quiet!” I yelled.
Hearing my own voice woke me. Since I was awake anyway, I decided to get out of bed and practice. I perched myself on the piano bench. First came the scales. C major. One-two-three-four—up and down the piano endlessly. The repetition tended to hypnotize me; my head dropped.
At breakfast, over strawberries and muffins, my little brother complained that he had been awakened at 5:00 A.M. by a C major scale. My mother told me she didn’t mind if I practiced, as long as I didn’t wake the family and then quit. I explained that I had merely dozed off in the middle of a scale. At this point my father added a gem of advice: “JoAnn,” he said, “discipline yourself to eat right and be in bed before 9:00, and you will be alert and awake at the piano.” I quickly ate another strawberry.

One such member is a valiant brother from Guaratengeta, Brazil. He spreads the gospel almost every waking hour and in a unique way. As he meets people he states his name, E. J. Sariva, and hands them his card. He then waits for them to read his name as it is printed on the card: Elder E. J. Sariva, Zion. Often their response is something like this: “What does this “Zion” mean? To which he replies, “Oh, don’t you know about Zion? Let me tell you.” Brother Sariva then introduces his listener to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. With this courageous technique and in his zeal and love for the Lord, Brother Sariva has brought more than 130 souls into the kingdom of our Heavenly Father.

My grandmother, Mildred Riggs, was a great influence in my life. When I was a young boy, my grandfather died, and Grandma Riggs moved into our home. She lived with us during most of the time I was growing up. She went on a mission, and when the time came for me to go, not many people from my hometown were serving missions. But I thought, “If Grandma Riggs can go on a mission, then I can go on a mission, too.” She was a wonderful example to me. She exercised, read the scriptures, and prayed regularly.

He blames it on a short attention span, but it’s more likely the spirit of missionary service that doesn’t allow Brandon Fields to sit still. He’s always wanted to go on a mission, but just wanting to go wasn’t enough. He needed to prepare. When he was 16, the constant urgings of full-time missionaries and a talk he had to give on missionary service in sacrament meeting prompted this Seattle, Washington, priest to do some thinking.
Brandon thought, You know, I should probably start praying for missionary experiences, because that’s what I’m going to be doing for two years, so why not start now? He hasn’t sat still since. And his prayers for missionary experiences have definitely been answered. Between visiting the less-active families in his ward, going team teaching with the missionaries, attending school, and working, it’s a wonder this first assistant to the bishop even has time to breathe. He says he’s able to fit it all in because he just never stops moving.
Brandon’s momentum started to build when he and his best friend, Steve Wells, started to go teaching with the missionaries in their area. “We volunteered a couple of times, and it turned out we were the only priests who could go. So it was us for five months.” Now that he’s only six months away from his mission, Brandon is still helping the missionaries, but he does get a break every once in a while, since there are now a few more priests to help out. Steve is now on a full-time mission in the Philippines.

The day was scorching; my sister, Susie, and I waited impatiently outside the church for Dad to pick us up following his weekly golf game. The sweat trickled down my back; Susie’s golden curls were wet and drooping. I remember watching with envy as my friends left the church with their parents. I wished with all my heart that Mom and Dad would come with us to church. I had even prayed about it. But they always thought they were too busy or too tired. By the time Dad picked us up, we were half baked. I was angry at both him and Mom.
Mom had stayed home, as usual, fixing dinner. We sat around the table now, but I was still burning up inside. I detest spinach, so rather than taking any, I passed the bowl to Susie. Instantly, both Dad and Mom were nagging at me, saying, “Take some spinach, Dan! It’s good for you!”
I had reached my limit. I retorted, “Why don’t you come to church? It’s good for you, just like spinach is for me!” Dad struck me, and Mom left the table crying. I ran from the house angry and hurt.
“Am I a Christian, Rebecca?” I asked, as I came back to the present. “Let’s say I used to be.” She sensed my need for silence.
We walked along the dark, tree-lined street; only the crunching sound of autumn leaves under our feet interrupted the silence. I felt so alone in the cold, dark world. More than anything else I wanted Rebecca’s friendship. She seemed so sure of herself, so at peace with herself. I wanted to draw from her strength, to learn from her wisdom. I looked down at my feet, afraid of her warm eyes.
“Rebecca,” I whispered softly. “What is it that makes you so special?”
I could have guessed that she would say it was her belief in Deity; she impressed me as a deeply religious girl. I wondered, though, which religion was to receive the credit for making her so sensitive, tender, and caring.
I pressed further. “What is your religion, Rebecca? Are you Catholic, Protestant, or something else?”
Her lips held just a hint of a smile. “I guess I fall into the ‘something else’ category, Dan. I’m searching for truth wherever I can find it. I discover it in some unusual places. But I can’t help but wonder one thing. Is there one religion that contains all of the truth?”
Her question pricked me deeply. Her eyes were searching mine, imploring. I looked away—my past blazed before me. Silently, I bowed my head and prayed. I hadn’t done that in years! After a long moment, I returned her gaze.
“Rebecca,” I slowly began, “what do you know about the Mormon church?”

Another returned missionary, Bishop Fortunate Chitiyo from Nketa Second Ward, Nkulumane Zimbabwe Stake shares his and his dear wife’s mountain experience: “When our dear daughter Amalia Chitiyo was born, she had bilateral clubfoot” (a birth defect in which the foot is twisted out of shape or position). The Chitiyos couldn’t afford the funds for treatment and the special shoes which were recommended for their daughter. Bishop Chitiyo said, “During this process we prayed and fasted continuously and pleaded with God to heal our daughter and remove this mountain according to His will”.
After several months, the Chitiyos’s daughter was miraculously healed. Bishop and Sister Chitiyo testified of this healing experience: “This [experience] increased our faith and through it all we testify with the prophet of God, President Russell M. Nelson that the Lord loves effort! Truly, faith is the power that enables the unlikely to accomplish the impossible. The healing of our daughter did not happen according to our timing and in the manner we expected, but according to God’s timing and in His own way.”

In the weeks leading up to my marriage and temple sealing, I started getting a little nervous about all the things I needed to do before I started my new family. Despite all the joy of that moment, I felt stressed about organizing our new routine, getting our finances in order, finding storage for our belongings, and all my new responsibilities as a wife. I wanted to make sure we started off our marriage the right way by making room in our activities for important things like keeping the commandments and spending time together as husband and wife in spite of our busy lives.
As the wedding day came closer, I was surprised by a series of nightmares involving all sorts of troubles that could affect a family. Because I come from a loving but afflicted family, threatened by constant and intense arguments and broken hearts, the bad dreams affected me more than they should have. So one night, after several others like it, I woke up sweating and decided to follow the advice that Sister Neill F. Marriott, Second Counselor in the Young Women General Presidency, gave in her talk “Yielding Our Hearts to God” (Liahona, Nov. 2015, 30–32). I closed my eyes and prayed, “Dear Heavenly Father, what can I do to keep these bad things away from my family?”
The answer hit me as fast and as strongly as if someone had opened a door into my head and put the thought there. The still, small voice prompted me, “Just do what you are supposed to do. Be faithful in each step.” The Spirit whispered some specific counsel, and I felt that if I did those things, everything would be fine.
I smiled and felt my chest filled with warmth. All the worries were suddenly forgotten, because I knew it was true. I had felt the Holy Ghost before, but never as strong as I did that night. I felt the love of our Heavenly Father and our Savior surround me, and I knew that the comfort and salvation of my family was as important for Them as it was for me.
As an added assurance, a story from the scriptures came to my memory—the moment that the Lord ordered Nephi to build a ship: “And it came to pass that the Lord spake unto me, saying: Thou shalt construct a ship, after the manner which I shall show thee, that I may carry thy people across these waters” (1 Nephi 17: 8; emphasis added).
Nephi and his family had been in the wilderness for years, enduring all sorts of tribulations. He could have felt afraid of starting a journey across the sea and let his fears become stronger than his faith. But he didn’t. He accepted and obeyed the instructions of God. He had faith that His promises would be fulfilled. The Lord never told Nephi that storms wouldn’t occur or that waves wouldn’t hit the ship. But He told Nephi that if he followed His directions, he would be able to guide his family safely across the ocean to the promised land.
I realized that I had also traveled through a wilderness for many years, but now I was in front of the sea, preparing for a new journey: marriage. I have been called—and I think that is the case for all Latter-day Saint families—to build a ship following God’s instructions.
Once my husband and I got married, troubles did come. I got sick, and we struggled to keep our financial affairs balanced and to put into practice all the good habits we had decided to follow.
But the counsel I had received that night remained in my heart. We tried daily to learn and treasure the word of God in our hearts, to follow the good examples of our dear leaders—including Christ—and to improve our own behavior. I gained a stronger testimony of prayer and truly tasted the Father’s love for us. I started to trust more and fear less. We realized that the difficulties we faced had become steps to improvement. Today our home seems like a little piece of heaven.
We are still in the beginning of our journey, but getting married and starting a family was the best choice I have ever made. My heart is full of joy when I think about the temple ordinance we received and know that it was sealed by God’s authority. The more I understand about the importance of the family in Heavenly Father’s plan and the sacredness of the covenant we made, the more I want to help other families receive the same ordinance.
I learned that we don’t need to worry about what is going to happen, because “God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind” (2 Timothy 1:7). We simply need to be obedient, follow the instructions given through the scriptures and the words of modern-day prophets, and ask in prayer for more personal instructions. If we do these things, we can cross the ocean of these last days confident that no matter what kind of trouble hits us, our loved ones will be safe.

Sister Ivone Armada from the Luanda Stake in Angola decided to use the Savior’s perspective as a guide for her gospel living. With her permission, I am sharing her comments. She wrote:
“At some point in my life, I was finally able to stop working to keep up with my children’s growth and home management. But I wanted to do something more, to contribute to the growth of one’s life.
“I prayed to the Lord, and at the end of the prayer an ‘angel’ was placed in my life—a friend who would help me become a facilitator to teach literacy classes.
“We started the training for this and when it ended, I divulged the project in the Church and in the community and thus formed a class where I could teach during a school year for children and adults with literacy needs.
“It was a great gift in my life, indeed for my whole family, since the preparation of the classes became a family project. It became a beacon—not only in the students’ lives but also in mine—I learned a lot about sacrifice with them and about perseverance.
“Three years later, on the day of the creation of the Angola Stake, I had the great blessing of meeting with several of these students (an adult and the rest—young people) and how wonderful it was to hear them say that they had never failed school again, they were so excited. My heartbeat fired and I remember looking up and saying in silence: ‘Thank you Father in Heaven’.
“Upon hearing one of the adult sisters that attended the class say that because of these classes she was able to start a small business that has provided for her family’s needs, we embraced each other, and we began to weep with gratitude. My husband and the people around me were perplexed to see this. My husband realized what was happening.
“With this experience, what is found in Doctrine and Covenants 81:5 and 84:106 gained tremendous weight in my personal and spiritual growth. I became a humbler person and had the purpose of leaving a legacy of greater service to my neighbor.”
Thanks to this experience, Sister Ivone continues to contribute in training and developing others. She went over and beyond what was being asked and used her time and talents to help others at Church and in her community. She indeed ministered to those in need and was blessed far beyond her expectations for that.

When Elder Richard G. Scott was young, his father was not a member of the Church. His mother was a member, but she didn’t go to church very often. When Richard turned eight years old, he didn’t get baptized. Then his Grandma Whittle came to visit.
Grandma Whittle was a very good example. She helped Richard and his brothers learn how important it is to be baptized and go to church. Soon Richard and his older brother were baptized.