Gospel Story Finder

After work one evening, Kylie Laney said to her coworker Mike Comfoltey, “I’m speaking in church tomorrow. Do you want to come?”
Mike, who is not a member of the Church, agreed to attend.
Kylie gave her talk, but Mike didn’t make it to church that Sunday. At work the next day, she joked with him, “You have to come next week then!”
He did. The priests made him feel welcome in their quorum. He enjoyed church and kept going. Then Mike started going to Mutual with Kylie and his new friends from the Danville (California) Second Ward. On Kylie’s invitation, he took the missionary lessons.
“I liked the feeling of being at church,” Mike says. “I liked being with the missionaries. It just felt right.” He prayed about the Church, received an answer, and was baptized last month.

At stake conference I heard a General Authority speak about being committed to making the right decisions. Afterward, I remember getting on my knees and saying to Heavenly Father, “This is what I plan to do. Wouldst thou help me?” I vowed that I would keep the Word of Wisdom throughout my life, that some day I would tell my grandchildren truthfully that I had never touched tobacco, tea, coffee, or a drop of liquor. I decided then how I was going to act so that decision never had to be made again.
When I was about sixteen years old, some friends asked me if I would go with them to drink beer. Although they pressured me to do so, I carried through with the decision I had already made. I simply told them, “No, thank you.” They are still my friends.

In February 1846, Elder Pratt left the branches in Anaa and Tubuai, bound for the United States. He promised to return with additional missionaries. Four and a half years later, on October 21, 1850, 21 travel-weary Latter-day Saints—seven men, five women, and nine children—arrived on the shores of Tubuai.11 Elder Pratt, called to lead a contingent of missionaries back to the islands, had returned in advance of the rest of the group but was detained by colonial officials in Tahiti who were suspicious of the missionaries. Louisa Barnes Pratt, Elder Pratt’s wife, and their four daughters, however, were with the company. Louisa immediately asked to be introduced to her husband’s “old friends” Telii and Nabota. An older man guided her and the other missionaries to Telii and Nabota’s home, where, despite having been sick for several days, Telii had prepared a feast of pork, fish, po’e (a local dish made from taro root), and fruit. The rest of the evening was spent celebrating their arrival by singing himene late into the night. “The music was delightful,” Louisa said. “Their voices are loud and clear.”12

As I think about rejection I'm reminded of a story about what occurred in Rome, Italy many years ago. Many years ago when in an airport one had to pay an exit tax to get out of the particular area. There was a young missionary that was returning home and four other missionaries accompanied him to the Rome airport. They needed a dollar for the exit tax and he didn't have it, nor did the missionaries who accompanied him; that sounds familiar. The young missionary went up to two sisters who were waiting for a flight, that were serving in another religion, and he said to them, "Sisters I'm trying to get back to the United States and I don't have a dollar for the exit tax, I'd like to know if you would you loan me the dollar." The one sister looked at him and said, "Do you mean if I give you a dollar, you'll go back to the United States?" And he said "Absolutely." She pulled out a five dollar bill and said "Here's a five dollar bill, and take your four friends with you."

In a hard-fought contest in the state football playoffs, the game was won when Steve, the quarterback, threw a pass to Mike. There was some question whether Mike caught or trapped the ball. The referee ruled that he caught it.
Since it was such a vital play, controversy raged. When Mike went to church the next Sunday several people asked him if he really caught the pass. Mike held his tongue until he saw his bishop. “Bishop, can I speak to you in private?” Mike asked. In the privacy of the bishop’s office, Mike said, “Bishop, I caught the pass. I wanted you to know!”

The wee hours of the morning became my solace as I pondered the scriptures and learned about the Savior while administering Sarah’s IV medication. I studied Romans 5:8–9, which says:
“But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.
“Much more then, being now justified by his blood, we shall be saved from wrath through him.”
And then I thought of Luke 22:44: “And being in an agony he prayed more earnestly: and his sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground.”
Prayer at Gethsemane, by Del Parson
As I read those verses, the thought struck me that blood represents life and living and that Christ bled from every pore to give us life—eternal life.
A few days later, Sarah and I were in the bone marrow transplant clinic, where she would receive a red blood cell transfusion. She had been premedicated for the procedure and was peacefully sleeping in my arms. I began to think intently about Sarah and how her situation was so dire: she was getting sicker and sicker by the day. Parts of her body had quit functioning altogether. Her red blood count had fallen drastically; she had no white blood count to speak of and would also be receiving a platelet transfusion before the day was finished. She was lethargic and weaker than normal, and her appearance was paler. Without new red blood cells to revive her body, life would eventually slip away.
But gratefully, I watched as precious red blood cells slowly dripped from a tiny bag and flowed through the IV tubing directly into Sarah’s body through her central line, literally offering her new life. I observed a physical transformation as Sarah’s cheeks and hands became a beautiful pink hue again. She even seemed to be breathing a little easier. Peace filled my mind as I knew that, once again, her body would be receiving its vital nourishment through the circulation of the new red blood cells. Life would continue.
Watching this physical transformation showed me in a powerful way how vital blood is to the body. Blood brings nourishment and oxygen to all the cells in the body, making them healthy and strong and helping them perform their proper functions. Blood also cleanses the body of the impurities that build up through daily wear and tear. The white blood cells fight off dangerous infections, and the platelets heal our inner workings automatically so we don’t bleed to death.
As I observed how precious this blood was to my daughter, I was suddenly struck by how much more important the Savior’s blood is to our souls. Through His suffering in the Garden of Gethsemane, the Savior offered each of us the chance for a transfusion—a spiritual transfusion. Sarah needed physical blood for her life to continue, but everyone who comes to this earth needs the spiritual blood transfusion that can only be received through our personal acceptance of the Atonement of Jesus Christ. Only then can we be cleansed of all our impurities and of the sins we have committed and become completely whole, ready to live in the presence of our Father in Heaven.
Because our Savior loves us, He “washed us from our sins in his own blood” (Revelation 1:5), and with His blood He cleanses us from sin. But this transfusion will not be forced upon us. With our agency, each of us can choose to accept His transfusion and become clean and whole so that our spiritual life can continue, or we can reject the transfusion, giving up our life with our Heavenly Father. Repenting and turning to Christ are the only ways we can receive this transfusion. Repentance is our “central line” between us and our Savior; without it, there is no possible way for His blood to free us from our sins.
Once we have repented and truly called upon Christ for mercy (see Alma 36:18), our sins, though they “be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool” (Isaiah 1:18). How ironic that blood, which stains garments, is also offered to us as a purifier. Just as our physical bodies are purified and cleansed through our blood, our spirits are purified and cleansed through our Savior’s atoning blood. And with our garments made white, we can stand spotless before God (see Alma 13:12).
Christ’s sacrifice also answers the ends of the law for all who have a broken heart and a contrite spirit (see 2 Nephi 2:7). Think for a minute about the workings of the heart: it pumps oxygen-rich blood throughout our bodies, keeping them functioning properly and making it so all the cells can be nourished and cleansed. If a heart breaks, it cannot function properly, and life ceases to exist. But if we “come unto [our Savior] with a broken heart,” we will be saved (see 3 Nephi 12:19–20). Jesus Christ can take our broken hearts and, through the power of His Atonement, make them work perfectly. Without Christ, our broken hearts cannot function and eternal life cannot be ours, but with Him a humble and repentant heart can properly function.
After Sarah had relapsed, we were faced with the challenge of deciding whether or not we should continue on with chemotherapy treatment. As we spoke with the doctors, they urged us to use the treatment because her white blood count had escalated to the point where she could begin bleeding out if we did not. Bleeding out is when the blood vessels begin spontaneously bursting throughout the body, becoming most obvious in the eyes, mouth, and nose. We were told it can be an excruciatingly painful process
When I heard this, my mind again turned to the Savior. He experienced a similar process as He suffered for all the sins that would ever be committed. King Benjamin taught of Jesus Christ’s suffering: “Blood cometh from every pore, so great shall be his anguish for the wickedness and the abominations of his people” (Mosiah 3:7). How excruciating His pain must have been as He bled from every pore.
Christ’s pain was again on my mind as I held my daughter in her final hours. I thought of Christ’s plea: “Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me: nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done” (Luke 22:42). But it was not the will of the Father to remove the cup, and Christ accepted this and continued forward with the Atonement. The Father, being merciful, sent an “angel unto him from heaven, strengthening him” (Luke 22:43). In that moment and others, I too was given a strength to endure that was not my own. Our Father in Heaven is merciful. He knows us individually and loves us personally. He sent His Son, even Jesus Christ, to earth to atone for our sins and offer us a spiritual transfusion because He knew it was the only way for us to enter into His presence and live with Him again.
Author’s note: Although Sarah passed away in 2004, we did have about a year and a half following her bone marrow transplant to enjoy her happy and spunky disposition.

Illustrations by Sal Velluto and Eugenio Mattozzi
When Joseph Smith was seven years old, he became very sick. He had a fever, and a sore formed on his shoulder. Then he felt a terrible pain in his leg. Soon his leg began to swell.
Oh, Father! My leg hurts. How can I bear it!
Joseph’s mother, Lucy, and brother Hyrum cared for Joseph. They carried him around the house, sat beside his bed, and held his sore leg to lessen the pain.
A doctor came to help Joseph. The doctor cut into Joseph’s leg. Joseph felt better for a while, but then the pain became worse than before.
Other doctors came to help. They decided to amputate Joseph’s leg.
Gentlemen, what can you do to save my boy’s leg?
We can do nothing. We must amputate to save his life.
You will not take off his leg until you try once more.
The doctors decided to do a different operation. They wanted to tie Joseph to his bed and give him strong drinks to lessen the pain.
No, Doctor, I will not be bound.
Then will you drink some wine?
You must take something, or you can never endure the pain.
No. I will not touch one drop of liquor.
Joseph asked his father to sit on the bed and hold him in his arms. He asked his mother to leave the room so she wouldn’t see him suffer.
The Lord will help me, and I’ll get through it.
The doctors removed large pieces of diseased bone from Joseph’s leg. The operation hurt Joseph very much. He cried out, and his mother ran to him.
Oh, Mother, go back, go back.
I do not want you to come in—I will try to tough it out if you will go away.
After the operation, Joseph felt much better. As his leg healed, he walked on crutches. Although he walked with a slight limp the rest of his life, he became strong and healthy.

William again left his prospering business and a growing family in 1880 to a mission to his home country. Near the end of that otherwise successful mission he reported:
“I preached the Gospel to my dear ones, my father, mother, brother, and sister, and although none of my own kindred have obeyed, they had to acknowledge they could not confute the doctrine, and they feel today that I am not what they judged me to be twenty-seven years ago. When a boy … All my dear relations have treated me with marked kindness, as they have any of the Elders that called upon them at the time. I know God will bless them for that.”

It took several months to gain courage to go to church. I knew where the church was, but there were no missionaries in our little branch. In February 1984, I walked into the Kwekwe chapel. I wanted to walk back out. I wasn’t sure I belonged and sat at the back, ready to bolt. After the opening exercises, the branch president, Mike Allen, bore his testimony about the Savior Jesus Christ and the Book of Mormon. I felt connected. The next person also bore his testimony about the Savior and the Book of Mormon, and so did the third one. I was euphoric. I couldn’t get the courage to go to the pulpit, so I stood where I was and said, “I love Jesus. I’m reading the Book of Mormon.” And I sat down. That was the beginning of my testimony.
Those testimonies were the Lord’s way of reaching out to me because it helped me feel that I belonged there. I felt that these were my brothers and sisters. During the following days I prayed for them and for acceptance. I met members there who were so kind and who helped me.
A lot happened that day when I walked into the chapel. I wonder what would have happened if those members hadn’t borne their testimonies. You never know whether there is someone who is struggling. When you stand up and say what you feel, it may be exactly what someone needs to hear.

Illustration by Steven Keele
Envy is a strong word. When people talked about being “envious,” I knew it would never describe me. So when I listened to Elder Jeffrey R. Holland’s talk “The Laborers in the Vineyard” in the April 2012 general conference, I didn’t really think he was talking to me. I tried to think of things I would occasionally be jealous of—someone’s dress, my friend’s bag, or my sister’s good grade. Yet all of these things came and went quickly; I never thought I dwelled on jealousy.
But as I went back and read Elder Holland’s words, his paraphrasing of a line from a parable stuck out to me: “Why should you be jealous because I choose to be kind?” (Ensign, May 2012, 31). Now, this was a different type of jealousy—not about material things but about someone’s choices. I began to think of the many times I may have been envious of my siblings, and then it clicked: this is exactly what I have been struggling with.
My little sister Mary is about to move out and start her first year in college, so I was talking to my dad about where she would work this summer. I knew he most likely had three jobs lined up for her like he had for me, because when I graduated from high school he made it very clear that if I planned on going to college, I would need a summer job. This was stressed so much that I even started a job the day of my graduation. I worked hard all summer and earned the money to pay my way through school. So naturally, when I was talking to my dad about Mary’s summer before college, I expected to hear the same story.
To my surprise, my dad explained that Mary would just be working at her part-time job until June and then take the summer off before school. Immediately several thoughts came to mind: “What about paying for school by yourself? How is she going to afford tuition? And what about paying for that nice apartment she’s decided to move into?” This just wasn’t fair.
I don’t know why it bothered me so much, but I let it continue to affect me. That is, until I reread Elder Holland’s conference talk. I read the question: “Why should you be jealous because I choose to be kind?” This time I changed it to fit my situation and asked myself: “Why should I be jealous that my parents are being kind to my sister?” Still a little upset, I then thought, “Well, why didn’t they show that kindness to me?”
I sat there pondering my emotions and then read through Elder Holland’s words again. This time I realized what I was missing: I had been looking for everything to be fair. In my eyes, the same thing that worked for me was obviously the right choice for the rest of my siblings. But Mary isn’t me. Mary is much more of a homebody than I am, and I started realizing how the transition to college might be tougher on her than it was for me. Maybe having a few months just to spend with my family is something she needs.
I suddenly felt embarrassed about my envious thoughts. Elder Holland compared envy with “downing another quart of pickle juice every time anyone around you has a happy moment” (Ensign, May 2012, 32), and that is not how I want to be.
I am so grateful for general conference and the inspired messages that are shared. I know that if we open our hearts to the messages of the living prophets and prayerfully search through their words several times, we will find what God wants us to hear at this time in our lives.

Several years ago, I was facing my own challenges both physically and spiritually. At the time, I was living an active lifestyle; I loved sports and playing basketball with the faculty and staff here at BYU-Idaho. However, I began struggling with health issues and found myself lying in a hospital bed for weeks at a time. During one of my hospital stays, I had lost so much weight that I didn’t have the strength or ability to stand or walk on my own. It was then that I faced not only physical challenges, but also my own spiritual challenge.

I remember so clearly one day pleading with God. I was scared, and even though I had family and friends visiting and praying for me I felt alone, and helpless. I spent most of the day in prayer and listening to devotional talks on the BYU channel. I was desperate and looking for anything to find relief. I found myself again pleading with God, “Talk to me!”

It wasn't even an hour later when one of our own BYU-Idaho security officers Alain Budge walked into my hospital room. He asked me how I was doing and said, “I just felt like I should come and visit you and share a scripture with you.” He read Joshua 1:9, “Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.” Just when my faith was weak and spiritual strength diminished, my prayers were answered because someone else was prepared spiritually to receive inspiration, and the Lord answered my prayers through him, the same words that the Lord had told Joshua a few years earlier—well, quite a few years earlier. My life, and testimony was strengthened because Alain followed the Spirit that day and acted on it.

The Lord had told Joshua several times to be of good courage. The word “courage” is defined as a “mental or moral strength to . . . persevere, and withstand danger, fear, or difficulty.” [15]

A short time after my release from the hospital and finding my strength to come back to work, Brother Budge followed up by having the Scouts in his home ward make this picture for me. I have it in my office today.

Doctrine and Covenants 59:23 reminds us: “But learn that he who doeth the works of righteousness shall receive his reward, even peace in this world, and eternal life in the world to come.”

Brother Alain Budge passed away about a year later. I know of his works—he received rewards, even peace, in this world and now in the eternal world to come.

Susan tossed a newspaper onto the Clarks’ front porch. As she started to walk to the Arnolds’, she heard an odd squishing noise and quickly turned around. Her little brother, Harold, was standing in the Clarks’ flower bed. Harold’s yellow boots were deep in the mud.
“I’m stuck!” he cried plaintively.
Susan set down her newspaper bag, put her arms around Harold’s middle, and pulled hard. Squoosh! The yellow boots rose from the mud. Harold and Susan fell backward.
When Susan stood up, she scraped the mud off her pants. “What are you doing here?” she asked.
Harold picked up the newspaper bag, but it was too heavy. Newspapers spilled into the mud. “I wanted to help you,” he mumbled.
“You’re too little to help. Go home,” ordered Susan.
“Let me walk with you, please,” Harold pleaded.
“You’re too slow.”
“I want to come! I can hurry.” Harold stomped his feet. Mud spattered off his boots and landed on Susan’s jacket.
“Go home!” roared Susan. She bent to pick up the muddy papers. When she stood up, Harold was gone.
At dinner that night Harold said nothing and ate very little. He went to bed early. Susan wanted to play checkers, but she had no one to play with. Dad was shining his shoes, Mother was doing the dishes, and Harold was in bed.
Susan sighed. Teaching Harold to play checkers last summer had been fun. She had enjoyed showing him how to rake the autumn leaves too. And they had had a great time last winter building his first snow fort. Now it was spring, and Susan decided that since she had nothing to do, she would think of something new to teach Harold. A few minutes later Susan had an idea and raced into the kitchen to tell her parents about it.
“What a fine idea!” exclaimed Mother.
Dad patted her shoulder and said, “Good luck, Susan.”
At breakfast the next morning, Susan said, “Harold, I’m sorry for yelling at you yesterday. Meet me here after school. I have a surprise for you.”
As soon as Harold got home that afternoon, he asked, “Where’s the surprise?”
“Come with me,” Susan answered. “I’ll show you.”
They walked to the Clarks’. Susan handed Harold a newspaper and said, “Put this on the Clarks’ porch.”
“OK,” Harold replied. He carefully put the newspaper inside the screen door.
Susan smiled at him.
They walked to three more houses. At each house Susan gave her brother a newspaper to deliver.
“This is fun,” said Harold.
Susan grinned and asked, “Do you want a job?”
Harold looked at Susan. “A job? Me? What kind of job?”
Susan gave Harold another newspaper. “This kind of job.”
Harold’s mouth fell open. “You mean your job?”
“Well, part of it. You can bring newspapers to these five houses every day. These houses are close to our house. Do you want to do it?”
Harold clapped his hands and shouted, “Yes!”
“Good,” said Susan. “Tomorrow I’ll teach you how to fold the newspapers. I’ll teach you other things too. I’ll show you how to put the papers in little plastic bags on wet days.”
“I can learn to do those things,” Harold assured his sister.
“There’s one more important thing to remember,” Susan told him.
“What’s that?”
“Stay out of the mud!”
They laughed together; then Harold raced home to tell his parents about his new job.

Brett was excited. He had just gotten a letter from his big brother Tony. Tony was a missionary. Before Tony left, Brett promised him that he would do missionary work too.
Brett, did you know that when you serve others, you are doing missionary work? I can’t wait to hear about all the missionary work you are doing. Love, Tony
Mom, I want to serve others so I can do missionary work like Tony. What can I do?
I know Mrs. Hampton could use some help raking her leaves on Saturday. Would that be a good way to do missionary work?
Yes! Then I could write Tony and tell him all about it.
The next Saturday, Brett sat down to write Tony a letter.
Dear Tony, I hope you are having as much fun as I am doing missionary work. We helped Mrs. Hampton today in her yard. She gave us a plate of cookies. Dad asked her if she wanted to come to church with us, and she said yes. Love, Brett
Brett folded the paper and stuck the letter and one leaf from Mrs. Hampton’s yard inside an envelope.
I can be a missionary too!

A true champion, after giving everything he can, calls on God for extra help.
Cathy Ferguson, age 17, was struggling in the backstroke swimming event, 15 centimeters behind the leader. She could hardly feel her arms and legs, but kept battling—8 meters, 7 meters, 6 meters, 5 meters. She kept swimming harder, until she pushed through to win. In that moment of glory, she could hardly control her tears, but she said, “I just kept praying, ‘Please God, help me keep going.’”

On May 18, 2020, my beloved dad, my hero, died from COVID-19. His death came so suddenly that we were not prepared. He was only 61 years old. I learned that just as God respects agency, we must respect God’s timing. That’s why I am grateful for His promise, taught by the prophet Alma, “that the spirits of all men, as soon as they are departed from this mortal body, yea, the spirits of all men, whether they be good or evil, are taken home to that God who gave them life” (Alma 40:11). All men and women!

After hearing many wonderful lessons about ways to keep the Sabbath day holy, we concluded as a family that one of our family rules would be to keep the Sabbath day.
Keeping the Lord’s commandments comes with an invitation to “prove me now herewith” (Malachi 3:10). Of course, we were put to the test, and we wanted to prove to the Lord that we believe. One Sunday after church, our daughter who was attending the graduating class at elementary school, was called by her teacher who asked her to come to the school.
The teacher was at the classroom with other students preparing for an island-wide competition on Monday morning. My daughter explained to the teacher that one of our family rules is not to do schoolwork on Sundays. The teacher wanted to speak to my wife, who made the same statement. Then the teacher wanted to speak with me. Of course, I shared the same comment. She was very disappointed. She told us that she believes in keeping the Sabbath day holy, but this was a very important competition where preparation was key to winning. I told her I understood how important the competition was but keeping the Sabbath day holy is more important to us. She hung up on me leaving me speechless.
On Monday morning, our daughter was afraid to go to school where she would have to face the teacher. My wife drove her to school but found the teacher had left our daughter behind. My wife took her to the competition venue where my daughter joined her classmates. Our daughter did not win the competition that day, but she was the only student from her school who won a prize.

I have been in the Air Force for two and a half years and a member of the Church for two years. My wife has been a member all her life. Five months ago I was shipped off to Turkey. We have five members here and lots of time on our hands. My wife was unable to come with me, but she subscribed to the New Era for me. My spirit and morale have been lifted tremendously by the New Era. I wish to thank my wife and the New Era for all the inspiration I have received while being so far away from home.
Mark E. CardwellDijarbarkir, Turkey

Soon our first foster baby, Benjamin, came to us. My bond with him was overwhelming, but I felt faint promptings that he wouldn’t be with us forever. I was heartbroken at the thought of him leaving us. And I was desperate for a baby I could keep. The Church’s Family Services was helping couples with adoptions at the time, so I went to my bishop to get information. The next week I got a call from a social worker who was looking to place a baby in a foster/adoption home. This was music to my ears. Despite the possibility of the baby having developmental issues, we felt the Lord’s hand directing us and we had faith to go forward. I’m not going to lie—I was scared. But it felt right, and baby Daniel was delivered to our home that very night.
Within days he became gravely ill, was hospitalized, and given a 50 percent chance to live. I sat by his crib for 11 days alternately praying and crying over him. I never once left the hospital. When Daniel’s birth parents came to see him (the adoption wasn’t final yet), there I was, looking like a complete disaster! But they seemed disconnected and showed no emotion whatsoever when they saw him.
This was a huge “aha” moment for me. I realized then that I really was Daniel’s mother! It didn’t matter that I hadn’t given birth to him—he was meant to be mine. I learned a lot about motherhood in those 11 days. I would have done anything for him.
Daniel’s life was spared. Benjamin returned to his biological family. But the Lord stayed by our side. Since then, we have adopted six more children and have miraculously had two of our own. I could shout from the rooftops about the miracles I’ve witnessed in my life. I have such a testimony of Heavenly Father’s promise to us that we can have the blessings we desire, even in ways we might not have originally expected or when we expect them (see 2 Nephi 10:17; Alma 37:17).

Several years ago, a student who had studied at the Brigham Young University Jerusalem Center wrote to me soon after returning to the United States. She reported a particular challenge regarding Sabbath work: “One of the most difficult things I had to do was tell my boss that I couldn’t work for him on Sundays anymore. The last two summers it didn’t bother me to work on Sunday, but because of the knowledge I’ve gained since then, there’s no way I could justify it now.”
Her admiration for her boss made telling him difficult. “I guess I didn’t want to tell him because he’s been so good to me; I’ve always been able to count on having a job there.”
It took her three days, including a day of fasting, to get up the courage. “All I wanted was for him to understand my position. I took an olivewood carving as a peace offering—just in case. Of course, the conversation centered around Jerusalem and everything I’d done in Israel. I tried to prepare him for why I couldn’t work on Sunday.
“The conversation eventually came around to my job. My nerves betrayed me and my voice got a little shaky, but finally my feelings came out. The Spirit must have been there because there were tears in his eyes, and it was hard for him to talk, too. He told me that he respected my decision and was glad that I stood up for what I believed in.
“He also explained that his beliefs were a little different from mine and that he had to be fair and treat all of his employees equally. He never did come out and say I wouldn’t be working for him any longer—but we both knew. It felt like a weight had been taken off my shoulders. I don’t have a job, but that’s okay; something will work out.”

I am grateful to the Lord for my membership in His Church. My investigation of this Church was never through anyone but by the power of God. I and my family members had attended so many churches. Our membership would have been earlier, but rumors about the Book of Mormon scared us until I was pushed by God. I liked what the Church offered me in their classes. The lessons were according to my needs, which I extended to my family members and now, we are all members of the Church.
Before my membership, I had always returned home late, but now I have been able to overcome that so I have time to discuss with my family, teach my children, and look over their work. My family is a peaceful one now and I am grateful to the Lord for that. I know that God lives and that this is His Church, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen. —Sorba Brima, Quarter Branch, Bo-Sierra Leone West Stake