Gospel Story Finder

I was looking through my journal the other day and I came across an entry that was about a time when I received an answer to my prayers. When my oldest son left on his mission, I was very concerned about his safety and that he might struggle with homesickness. I wrote:

"Every time that I say my prayers, I pray that he will be safe and that he will not suffer from homesickness.

"One night, after praying and asking that he be protected, the following words came to my mind: 'He is in my care. There is nothing that you can do. Have faith and trust that I will take care of him.'

"An overwhelming feeling of peace came over me and from that point on I did not fear because I knew that the Lord was aware of him where he was and was watching over him.

I continued to write that when he completed his mission and returned home, I asked him if he had ever gotten homesick because he never mentioned it in his letters. He responded that he never did experience homesickness.

The Three Princes In this beautifully illustrated tale from the Middle East, a wise and lovely princess told her three suitors that she would marry the one who brought her the thing of greatest wonder. One uses his gift, a crystal ball, to learn that she is dying. The second uses his gift, a flying carpet, to take the suitors to her in time for the third to use his gift, an orange with special powers, to heal her. The gifts were of equal value in saving her life, but she could only marry one of the suitors. … Eric A. Kimmel8–12 years

After attending Brigham Young University for a year, Elder Walker served as a full-time missionary in the Tennessee Nashville Mission.
To assist his father’s recovery from a serious accident, Elder Walker delayed his plans to return to school following his mission and returned to Argentina. That’s when he met Ines Marcela Sulé at an institute dance. Eight months later, on August 12, 1993, they were married in the Buenos Aires Argentina Temple. The next day, the young couple moved to Provo, Utah, USA, where Elder Walker completed his bachelor’s degree in economics in 1996.

In a recent letter to the editor, I read:
“One is continually hearing about the ‘Terrible Teenagers’ with their obnoxious dress and deplorable actions. How refreshing it was to have a most thrilling experience with—yes, four teenagers.
“One evening I was hosting a special guest from New York City. We were on our beautiful Temple Square, admiring the Seagull Monument. As we turned to go, four teenagers approached us. I immediately felt the [in]security of my gentleman guest, when one of the group stepped forward and said, ‘Lady, we would like to present you with this rose to make you happy, and hope that you will have a nice evening.’
“There clutched in his hand was a beautiful, long-stemmed American Beauty red rose, with a spray of fern, artistically wrapped in cellophane.
“‘We bought this rose to give to someone, and when we saw you, we thought you were the one.’
“As they turned to leave, I quickly got their names, expressing my most profound appreciation and admiration for their thoughtfulness and kindness to me, which was so unusual, and how I was quite overwhelmed to think that four teenagers would have the desire for such a gracious act, and that no one would appreciate it more than I would, a little grandmother, as I gave each one a big hug.” (Irene E. Staples, Deseret News, 22 Sept. 1985, p. A-19.)

Christmas away from home. My favorite gift was my first Christmas away from home, when my parents, sister, and I went to visit my brother and his family.
We were used to family Christmases at our house, but this year my other siblings were going elsewhere, and we decided to visit my brother, Josh, and his family because they couldn’t come home. I wasn’t sure what to expect, and I thought that if we weren’t home for Christmas, it wouldn’t be fun. It seemed that Christmas just wouldn’t be the same. My parents, sister, and I had already opened our presents to each other before we left home.
When my brother picked us up at the airport, my four-year-old niece, Kialey, started to sing Christmas songs, and I started to feel better. On Christmas morning I enjoyed watching the faces of my nieces and nephews light up as they opened their presents. It was nice, instead of focusing on what I got, to look at others opening their presents and to feel their joy.Hannah S., Montana, USA

Suzy gripped my arm and dragged me into an empty classroom.
“Debbie, I think I’m going to die.”
“Now look, Suzy,” I said, loosening her fingers from my arm, “I don’t think you can die from giving a talk.”
“But my heart is pounding and I feel sick,” she said. “Maybe I’m going to have a heart attack.”
“Calm down and tell me what I can do to help,” I suggested. Suzy is my best friend. She and I and the other 12-year-olds who were advancing to Young Women had been asked to give talks at a program. It was starting in only a few minutes.
“Maybe you could help me run away,” Suzy said hopefully.
“Suzy, you’re the bishop’s daughter. Everyone expects you to be there. I think they would notice if you were gone.”
“There must be something I can do,” Suzy said as she paced between the door and wall.
“What exactly is the problem?” I asked.
“I didn’t prepare my talk the way I usually do and I don’t have any notes.” She stopped and turned to face me. “My dad said I’m old enough to give a talk from my heart. Now I’m terrified and I won’t remember anything.”
“Can’t you talk to him again?” I asked.
“It’s too late. He said whatever I said would be fine. But I’m afraid I’m going to make a fool of myself. I think the only solution is to run away.”
“Wait a minute,” I said. I knew there must be a better solution to Suzy’s problem. Suddenly a thought came to me. “Come on,” I said, pulling Suzy with me. We went down the hall away from the Primary room toward the chapel. “Let’s go in here and say a prayer,” I said softly. “Then things will be all right.” I opened the heavy door and we peeked inside. The room was empty and a little light shone from somewhere up front.
Suzy and I tiptoed into the chapel and dropped to our knees. I told her I would pray. I asked Heavenly Father to bless Suzy to be able to give her talk, and to bless her with the Spirit so she would be calm and know that He loved her. I don’t remember what else I said. What I do remember is the warm feeling that surrounded me as we knelt in the chapel. I knew without a doubt that Heavenly Father loved Suzy and would help her, and I knew that Heavenly Father loved me too.
After a few moments we got up from our knees and headed to the Primary room to give our talks. Suzy did fine without notes. I will never forget the feeling of complete love that surrounded me as we knelt in the darkened chapel to ask Heavenly Father for help.

Last year Chantal auditioned for a prestigious gala presentation that the media attend to report on the best new talent in Montreal. Chantal passed the audition and was scheduled to perform, but when she found out the concert was to be held on a Sunday, she withdrew.

“I fasted about it. Even though I really wanted to sing at the gala, if the Spirit says don’t go, you don’t go. So I didn’t. The important thing is always to follow what Heavenly Father wants us to do. But I know that because I listened to the Spirit, other opportunities have come my way,” says Chantal.

She recently found herself singing for a seminary film produced by the Church. Last year both sisters were asked to help with French translations for the film. Chantal told the producer she liked to sing and was asked to record several songs for the project. She went to the studio, put on the earphones, and surprised everybody when she did an outstanding job in record time. A technician told her she had professional talent, which was encouraging.

“If I sing professionally, my commitment to God will always take first priority,” she says. “I look at my singing as missionary work.”

In my middle school I’m one of the only members of the Church. One day in class the girl sitting next to me said a man who was Mormon wasn’t treated fairly because of his religion. I spoke up and said I was a Mormon too. A lot of people had questions about the Church, and I was able to answer them. It has come up again in class, and I’ve been able to share what I know is true. I know that by sharing my testimony I can be a good missionary to those around me.
Jemma P., age 11, North Carolina

I remember a time when I had been called to be the priests quorum adviser. At that time we had over 30 priests in the ward, and the bishop said to me, “Brother Ballard, we want every priest in this ward to be active. I’ll do all I can to help you, but it is your duty to get every one of them.” There were several of those priests who were not active in the Church.

The story of one of those boys whom I shall call David is special to me. His father was not a member of the Church, and his mother was not completely active. This boy had not been to church for about six or seven years.

I went to his home to visit him and he tolerated me, but I didn’t get very far. I pondered what to do to help this boy and went to the Lord in prayer. I got the impression that the way I could get a little closer to him was to go for a ride with him in his jeep.

David’s eyes lit up when I said to him, “David, why don’t you take me for a ride in your jeep?”

He said, “Really, Brother Ballard?”

I replied, “Yes.”

“Where do you want to go?”

Here’s where I made my mistake. I said, “I don’t care, just anywhere you want to take me.” What I should have said is, “Around the block five times.”

We got into the jeep and I strapped myself in with everything I could find. He headed right for the hills, and I think that is the only time I have ever been airborne in a four-wheel vehicle. I had eaten enough dust by the time I got out of that jeep that I made up my mind that the Lord and I were going to activate David. I said to him, “I’ll pick you up in the morning at 7:45 for priesthood meeting. You be ready.” Then I left.

At quarter to eight the next morning I was at David’s front door talking to his nonmember father. I said, “Would you please tell David I am here to take him to priesthood meeting.”

He said, “He is still in bed.”

I said, “Well, would you get him up and tell him I am out here waiting?”

Then his mother came to the door. I asked, “Would you please wake David up? If you don’t want to, just show me where his bedroom is and I will.” Isn’t that terrible? What right did I have to talk that way? I believe, however, that I was being moved by the Spirit. Finally, about 8:20, out came David.

The bishop, in the meantime, was with the priests quorum wondering what had become of his adviser who was supposed to be teaching the lesson. When David and I walked in the door together, he knew what had happened.

That was the beginning of a great relationship between a boy and a priests quorum adviser. This boy was quite a loner without many friends. We did some things together, and just before I was released as priests quorum adviser, I took all the priests on an outing for a weekend, going on a Thursday and back on a Saturday. I let David drive my car, and we stayed in the same room together. He was my companion.

Soon afterward, I left to take up my position as president of the Canada Toronto Mission. Six months later, I received a letter from David. Allow me to share some excerpts from that letter:

“I wish you and your family the best of happiness and sincere guidance from God. Your wife and family are ever so much missed. We all love you and pray for you. Brother Ballard, you have taught me well, for I am leaving in March for the mission field.”

There I was in Canada, buried in missionary affairs, reading a letter from a young man who had come to mean a lot to me because of the relationship that we shared. I had watched him begin to attend church and develop a testimony; he had grown close to his Father in Heaven. As I read that letter telling me that he was going to serve a mission, I went into the kitchen to tell Sister Ballard and she wept with me.

His letter continued, “I can hardly wait. I pray that Heavenly Father will bless me. Tomorrow night the bishop will ordain me an elder. Saturday he is taking me to the temple. I will pray for you and think of you. May the Lord bless you in your missionary labors, Brother Ballard. David.”

I thank the Lord that David took the time to write that letter to me. It showed me that he cared. That letter made an impression on my life that was far greater than I ever made on him. That letter was a greater reward for my small efforts in this young man’s behalf than any amount of money or earthly wealth could have ever been. I felt as the shepherd must have felt when he called together his friends and neighbors and asked them to rejoice with him, for he had found his sheep which was lost.

We see that power in Ephraim’s experience. Redemption and salvation did not begin for Ephraim in the meetinghouse. Years before that the Lord watched over him, protected him, and blessed him with courage, and resilience, and a talent for learning. After Ephraim was baptized he became a faithful, active member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He experienced many tender mercies, even miracles. For example, He found work at a car wash where he met a couple of taxi drivers. They saw potential in Ephraim and taught him how to drive. This enabled Ephraim to work as a taxi driver at night. That job gave him enough income to rent a place to live and pay for his education and graduate from high school. He still faced many challenges, but the Lord knew Ephraim’s sorrow and pain intimately because He had experienced it too. He also knew Ephraim’s potential and He knew how to strengthen Ephraim and heal his heart and soul perfectly. As a result, Ephraim had no bitterness or anger in his heart about the mistreatment by others in his past. In fact, one of his great desires was to make the restored gospel of Jesus Christ available to his ancestors, including his mother and father. Truly, the Lord Jesus Christ lifted Ephraim up and helped him become a mighty elder in Israel.

I return now to Ephraim’s story. We have already seen in this story that Jesus Christ is a God of miracles. Sometimes, He works His miracles through angels. Ephraim was called as a missionary and assigned to labor in the South Africa Cape Town Mission. His third companion was from Bountiful, Utah. Every preparation day his companion wrote his parents an email. One preparation day he wrote to his parents, “Do you have time to write to my companion? He doesn’t have anyone to write to.” They did. In fact, they wrote to Ephraim every week through the rest of his mission.

When Ephraim completed his mission he went back to the streets of Accra, looked for work, and hoped to get more education. The angel parents of his missionary companion from Bountiful, Utah made arrangements for Ephraim to come to their son’s wedding, and then decided to sponsor him for a student visa that would allow him to study in the U.S. This was an important step in Ephraim’s dream to attend college. Eventually, Ephraim was admitted to Ensign College, and met and married his wife Alexis. In 2022 they welcomed a baby boy into their family, and Ephraim graduated as the Ensign College valedictorian with a bachelor’s degree in accounting. And then another dream came true: he was offered a scholarship to do a master’s degree in accounting at BYU. He completed that degree and graduated from BYU in 2023.

From the time he was a boy, through his teenage years, through his mission, and in his college years, the Holy Ghost ignited the Light of Christ in that young man. His understanding was quickened. His natural gifts and talents were magnified. His capacity to receive revelation increased.

Take, for example, Joseph F. Smith, the father of our past prophet Joseph Fielding Smith, and the president of the Church during the early years of this century. Joseph F.’s father was Hyrum Smith who had been killed in Carthage Jail with the Prophet Joseph. Even so, though a cost-benefit ethic might have dictated he stay to look after his sister, Joseph F. volunteered for a mission. He was called to Hawaii, or the Sandwich Islands as they were then called. When he arrived there, he learned that the missionaries before him had almost completely given up on trying to teach the gospel. They were unsuccessful with the haole, the whites, and as far as the kanakas, the natives, they could neither learn their difficult language, nor did they perceive the natives as good Church members. Joseph, however, was young enough to learn the language of the natives and to see behind the unfamiliar customs of the Hawaiians the sweet spirits they possessed. He writes how he “felt resolved to stay there, master the language, and warn the people of these islands, if I have to do it alone.”2
Joseph did learn the language and did preach to the Hawaiians, and in the process he received a spiritual renewal. Within a few months of his arrival in Hawaii, he wrote back to a relative in Salt Lake City:
“I know that the work in which I am engaged is the work of the living and true God, and I am ready to bear my testimony of the same at any time, or at any place, or in whatsoever circumstances I may be placed.”3
When he wrote that, he could not have known the strange “circumstance” in which he would find himself. The warehouse in which he and others of the missionaries stored their clothes caught fire. All their clothing except what they were wearing was destroyed. For a time Joseph and his companion had only one respectable suit between them, so one of them had to stay in bed while the other put on the suit and went to meeting!4

While I served as a bishop, I watched a young man in my ward progress as a deacon, teacher, and priest. He then prepared to serve a mission. He was shy and quiet, and he came from a family that wasn’t very active in the gospel.
The Sunday he was going to speak before leaving on his mission, I asked if his talk was prepared.
“Yes,” he said. He opened a manila folder and showed me his talk.
“That’s wonderful,” I said. “But I want to do an experiment. Will you speak from your heart instead?”
“You want me to do what?” he said.
“I trust you,” I said. “Just speak from your heart. I know you will do great things in this meeting. I’ll be right next to you if you need me.”
He gave me his talk. I’ll never forget how nervous he was as the other speakers spoke before him. But when it came time for him to speak, he got up and gave a powerful message. The whole congregation was captured by this shy boy who had become a spokesman for the Lord.
The real miracle came after the meeting. Three of his friends who had previously told me they weren’t going to serve missions came up to me with tear-filled eyes. Each of them said, “I want to go on a mission.” This young man’s testimony convinced them that they needed to serve. All three of them served successful missions. This young man is now a father and is still engaged in the gospel of Jesus Christ. He has also helped bring many members of his family back into the Church.

Last year, just before school started, the priests of the Ketchikan Ward were having a lesson on fasting. They started discussing how much easier it was for them to fast with a purpose instead of feeling like they were just starving. Russell Youngberg said, “We realized that school was about to start and a fast Sunday was coming up, so we sort of put the two together. The entire ward youth would fast for each other to be able to resist temptations and have a good school year.”

Forrest Allred remembers how they came up with the idea. “We were talking about how to make the youth stronger and more righteous. We were confident that fasting would work.”

The bishop also thought it was a great idea. He invited the Young Women to join in. Amanda Youngberg said, “The bishopric came into the Young Women classes and asked if we wanted to participate in the fast. We all did it together.”

They planned for the first weekend of September. They started their fast individually on Saturday afternoon. For some, having a distinct reason helped. Kaitlyn Skinner said, “Our parents could join us in our fast, but since the youth were fasting together, it was easier for me.”

The next day, fast Sunday, all the youth met after fast and testimony meeting in the seminary room. Adam Fitzgerald, one of the priests who talked about the original idea, described what happened. “I remember feeling the Spirit really strong. We all knelt, which was hard to do because the room was very full. The bishop gave the prayer for us. I remember him talking about us having a good year and that we would become bonded to one another and resist temptations throughout the year and continue our growth and development. Personally, as he was saying those things, I knew that it was going to be that way.”

Ryan Gray was on the student council at Ketchikan High School and noticed that the LDS students were more connected after their fast. “In this school, we’re small in number. We all have our own friends, but we’re all friends at the ward. We’ve got strength. Fasting for each other was a good way to start the year.”

This unity, these friendships, these positive choices are the very things the teens were fasting for.

Russell says, “I think our fast made a difference, at least it has to me. It seems whenever any member sees another member at school, we stop and talk on the way to class. It feels like there is a stronger bond in the youth group. As for the fast, my stomach did the same stuff as always when I fast, but we all had a purpose for fasting, and that made it a lot different.”

Another little miracle occurred two months earlier, when Evonne received a strong impression that they needed to insure their property. This troubled David, as none of the 15 providers he had contacted would insure them. He prayed, “Heavenly Father, if we are meant to insure the house, please help me find an insurer.” The very next company he called agreed to insure the property for a portion of its value.

It was a tradition in our family to cross-country ski to our cabin each winter. My dad left for the cabin early with my two sisters. The weather was good, and they had no trouble skiing. The next morning when the rest of us started, weather conditions had changed.
Heavy snow was coming down. Large wet, sticky flakes were piling up fast. I was helping all I could as we pulled the sleds with kids and food on them behind us as we skied. With the new snow, the sleds were heavy and weren’t sliding along as they usually did. It only took a little while for us to see that we wouldn’t make it alone. Mom told me to go ahead to the cabin to find Dad.
I started out and was soon alone in the swirling snow. I came to a place where the path through the trees went two different directions. I started one way, but soon didn’t recognize the area. I went a little farther but soon felt frustrated because I wasn’t sure where I was.
I fell down crying, yelling for help. No one heard me and the flakes seemed to be coming down even harder. I remembered a talk I had heard in church from a college student home for Christmas. She said that when she needed help she would read her scriptures and pray. Soon her problems became easier to deal with and understand. She told of how when we need help in our lives, we should pray. I decided to try her advice. I knelt down there in the snow, folded my arms, and prayed.
When I’d explained the problem to Heavenly Father, I got back up and stood for a few minutes until I felt a strong feeling that I should turn around. I started heading back to where I had taken one of two paths. From there I went the other direction and felt comforted. I soon found our cabin.
I told Dad what had happened, and he followed my tracks back to find the others struggling in the storm.
Though perhaps not as dramatic as when Brigham Young sent men out to rescue the pioneer handcart companies, Dad said that was what came to mind when he found Mom and the others. Their suffering had not been as great as the pioneers, but it had been real enough and their joy in being rescued was just as genuine.
We were all glad to get inside the cabin where it was warm and safe. I prayed again and thanked Heavenly Father for comforting me and guiding me to the right path and giving me the strength to go the distance. I will always remember to turn to my Father in Heaven when I feel lost.

Fast forward to December 2020, my physical and mental health weren’t great, and I was struggling to just wake up and get out of bed most days. I remember fasting and asking for help. I was impressed with the idea to work on my physical health. I had hidden away at home for a long time. I decided to mix walking with fundraising for the charities who had helped me since my diagnosis. I ran a yearlong fundraiser while doing virtual-walking challenges, with the goal of climbing Mount Snowdon at the end of the year. The year went great! My physical health improved massively, as did my mental health. I climbed Snowdon in August, four months before I had planned.

During the final months of our mission last year, we experienced an event that taught once again this profound principle that each of us is known and loved by God.
Elder Neal A. Maxwell was coming to New York City for some Church business, and we were informed that he would also like to have a mission conference. We were so pleased to have this opportunity to hear from one of the Lord’s chosen servants. I was asked to select one of our missionaries to provide the opening prayer for the meeting. I might have randomly picked one of the missionaries to pray, but felt to ponder and prayerfully select one whom the Lord would have me ask. In going through the missionary roster, a name boldly stood out to me: Elder Joseph Appiah of Accra, Ghana. He was the one I felt the Lord wanted to pray at the meeting.
Prior to the mission conference, I was having a regularly scheduled interview with Elder Appiah and told him of the prompting that I had received for him to pray. With amazement and humility in his eyes, he began to weep deeply. Somewhat surprised by his reaction, I started to tell him that it was all right and he wouldn’t have to pray, when he informed me he would love to offer the prayer, that his emotion was caused by the love he has for Elder Maxwell. He told me that this Apostle is very special to the Saints in Ghana and to his own family. Elder Maxwell had called his father to be the district president in Accra and had sealed his mother and father in the Salt Lake Temple.
Now, I didn’t know any of what I just related about this missionary or his family, but the Lord did and inspired a mission president on behalf of one missionary to provide a lifelong memory and testimony-building experience.
At the meeting, Elder Appiah offered a wonderful prayer and made a humble contribution to a meeting where Elder Maxwell taught the missionaries of the attributes of Jesus Christ. All who were there will never forget the feelings of love they experienced for their Savior.

A man who had been in the penitentiary applied to Henry Ford for employment. He had decided to tell Mr. Ford about his past as he applied. He had not been honest on several occasions as he had applied and after he was hired and working, his employer had found out he had been in the penitentiary and let him go. So now as he started to tell about his past, Mr. Ford stopped him and said, “I don’t care about your past; start where you stand.”

I met one such young man not long ago while I was attending a stake conference in another country. We were about to conclude a Saturday afternoon meeting with the stake presidency when a knock came at the office door. The president opened it, and I saw a hand give an envelope to him. It had my name on it. The letter inside introduced me to a young man who needed an interview in order to be accepted as a missionary.

As soon as our meeting with the stake presidency was concluded, I excused them and invited the young man in. His initial appearance shocked me. I couldn’t believe he was being recommended to go out and serve as a missionary. His clothes were somewhat wrinkled; he needed a shave; he reeked with tobacco smoke; he even had some sort of paperback book rolled up in his hands. What could he offer in the service of the Master, I thought.

And then it happened—he walked over and shook hands with me. As I looked into his eyes, I was electrified. He was different. He was special, in spite of his outward appearance. As we sat down he told me his story. He first excused himself for appearing to be untidy and in a hurry. He said he had just gotten off the bus after a 13-hour ride from his home and, if I didn’t mind, he hoped he would be able to be back on the bus in another hour for another 13-hour ride to his home.

I then began to put two and two together. I knew now why his clothes were wrinkled and why he needed a shave. I knew the tobacco smoke was not of his choosing, but from the close confinement in the bus. I made another observation. That paperback book in his hand was the Book of Mormon—well read, well used, a priceless possession. He went on to say that three years ago he had joined the Church because of his association with our young people. He said they were different. His parents had given him permission if he wanted to, but warned that if he did, he would no longer have a bed in their home. He could no longer live with them as their son.

When he was baptized, his father kept his word and opened the back door, telling him never to return. The young man didn’t. He moved in with friends. He told me that for the past three years he had been working and going to school. He said he had saved over $2,000 to keep himself on a mission. Please, could he go, he said; he wanted to more than anything in the world. The impression of the Spirit said yes, and he’s now part of the army of 18,000 stalwarts who are out covering the earth as servants of the Master.

I joined the Church when I was 13 years old. I had a testimony of the gospel, yet I had a nagging feeling that I didn’t quite fit in at church. Everyone else knew the songs and the scripture stories; I didn’t. Everyone else had memories of Primary activities or family home evening lessons; I’d never done either of those things.
But beyond that, everyone seemed to have the same interests and opinions—sometimes very strong opinions that were the opposite of mine—about everything from movies and politics to the interpretation of certain scriptures. I would look around at all of the nodding heads and think, “You’re nice people and I am a nice person. But we are just too different. I don’t belong here.”
I struggled with those feelings for several years. Then I recalled and reread the story from Luke 19 about Zacchaeus. Because he was a publican, he was unpopular and considered a sinner. But when Jesus passed through his city, Zacchaeus climbed a tree to see over the crowd. He didn’t care what others thought of him. It was this act of climbing the tree—separating himself from the crowd—that enabled him to have a very beautiful and personal experience with the Savior. As I read, I recognized that my feelings of being an outsider were not coming from Christ. Jesus was inclusive and forgiving. He actively sought those who were judged and cast aside—those who seemed different.
I can’t say I’ve never felt out of place again. I have. But I’ve learned that the things that make me different—the way I look, the way others look at me, the things I’m passionate about, the way I think about the world—these are not reasons to fall away. These are the reasons the Church needs all of us, with all our different talents, strengths, and perspectives.
Elaine Vickers lives in Utah, USA.