Gospel Story Finder

The stake coordinated days and times with the temple presidency so the youth could do baptisms and confirmations during a three-day school break. Baptisms were scheduled among the wards so they went nonstop all day and into the evening. At one point the boiler in the temple broke down and the water in the font was getting cold. The temple president considered postponing the baptisms, but the young men and women wanted to keep going. After offering a prayer, they kept doing baptisms, and the boiler was fixed about six hours later.

Like most boys from Whitney, “T” had a desire to share the gospel himself. As a child, he had sat in Sunday School listening to returned missionaries tell about the “happiest two years” of their lives. Even when they reported persecutions it only fed the missionary flame within his young heart. Later, he went to the stake patriarch for a blessing. “Brother Dalley very slowly pronounced a blessing upon my head, which included an answer to a boy’s prayer. I was promised, if faithful of course, that I would go on a mission to the nations of the earth and would raise my voice in testimony and that many would rise up and bless my name because of my influence in helping to bring them into the Church.

“I went home walking on air, I was so happy. I had no doubt but what I would someday go on a mission.”

Now there are times when we do have to alter our goal just a bit. I’ll never forget my first day as a student at Ricks College. One of the instructors asked, “What are you all going to be?” One raised his hand and said, “I’m going to be a brain surgeon.” Another one said, “I’m going to be an atomic physicist.” I sat there and thought, Boy, I’m in the wrong league. I don’t know whether I can keep up with these guys.

But it was interesting how many of them hadn’t really thought it out. When I looked back at them later, some had dropped out of school and others hadn’t pursued the courses that would qualify them for such lofty goals. It was easy for them to set a goal and let it slip. Now there are times when we do need to modify our goals. But I would suggest that, in general, we should try to raise them rather than lower them simply because it is easier.

As part of a special activity, the youth in my ward planned to do baptisms for the dead. As the day approached, we discovered that our planned time at the temple fell on the day of our high school homecoming football game. A group of us wanted to attend both, and we figured we could hurry through the baptisms and then go straight to the game.
But after arriving at the temple, we found there was a delay. Those of us who were planning to go to the game began to feel anxious and just wanted to do the baptisms so we could leave.
As I sat there thinking how I wished things would go a little faster, I suddenly became very aware of my surroundings. I began listening to the soft hymns being played and noticed how peaceful everything around me seemed. As I watched the girl ahead of me enter the font, I suddenly thought of those people for whom she was being baptized. They had waited perhaps hundreds of years to receive this blessing. What an amazing, profound, and important thing for them! How fortunate I was to be able to offer them this great gift. How could I want to rush through this for a mere football game?
I began to see how foolish and silly I was to want to hurry. I felt ashamed that I had ever felt that way. I wasn’t in a hurry any longer. In fact, I didn’t care anymore if I even made it to the game. After all, what really matters in the eternal perspective anyway—a person’s salvation or a football game? I knew I would never take this kind of opportunity for granted again.
As it turned out, we made it back for the last half of the game. I think our team lost. I can’t really remember. But what I do remember is the happiness and gratitude I felt for the opportunity to be in the Lord’s house, doing that great service.

Growing up, I didn’t believe there was a God. My life was full of turmoil, and in my darkest days I was depressed enough that I wanted to end my life. That was when the missionaries came knocking on my door. The gospel was exactly what I needed; I was drawn to it like a magnet.
My trials didn’t end after I joined the Church, but I was in a better position to resist the influence of the adversary. For the first time, I knew what happiness felt like.
However, depression didn’t loosen its grip easily. At one point I wanted to give up again. At that moment Sister Ting, the bishop’s wife, called. She told me she had a feeling she needed to call me. She asked how I was doing. I bore my soul to her. To me, she was an angel sent by God.
That incident empowered me. My faith was strengthened. I felt like I could conquer death. I felt delivered, like it says in Alma 36:2–3:
“They were in bondage, and none could deliver them except … God … .
“… Whosoever shall put their trust in God shall be supported in their trials, and their troubles, and their afflictions, and shall be lifted up at the last day.”
I still have trials, but I will not be easily beaten again. God has supported me through all my trials and worries. He has saved me from spiritual prison and bondage, even death. He is my Savior.

This story took place in France.
Jared dribbled the ball across the court. Players ran around him, their shoes squeaking on the floor.
“I’m open!” Gabriel called.
Jared passed the ball to Gabriel and kept running. Then Gabriel passed the ball back. Jared threw the ball at the hoop.
SWOOSH!
It went in!
“Nice work, Jared,” his coach said after the game. “You know, tryouts for the regional team are in two weeks.”
Jared grinned. Only a few players were invited to try out for that team.
“The tryouts will be on Sunday,” the coach said. “Do you think you can make it?”
Jared’s excitement was gone as quickly as it came.
“On Sunday?” Jared asked.
“Yes. Is that a problem?”
Jared thought about it. This was his chance to play on a really good team! But Sundays were when he went to church and focused on the Savior.
“Sundays are a special day for me,” Jared said. “But I’ll talk to my parents about it.”
That night, Jared sat on his bed with his parents. He tossed his basketball in the air while he thought. “I really want to try out for the team,” he told Mom and Dad. “But I don’t want to do it on a Sunday. I know God is more important than basketball.”
“What can we do to help?” Mom asked.
Jared turned the ball in his hands. “Can we say a prayer together?”
He put his basketball away and knelt down with Mom and Dad. “Dear Heavenly Father,” he said, “I really, really want to try out for this basketball team. But the tryouts are on a Sunday! I know Sunday is the day I give to Thee. What can I do?”
After the prayer, Jared felt a comforting feeling.
“How do you feel?” Mom asked.
“I’m not going if the tryouts are on a Sunday,” he said. “But I have a feeling it will all be OK.”
Two days later, Jared’s mom got an email. It said the tryouts would be on Saturday now instead!
Jared could try out and keep the sabbath day holy! He knew Heavenly Father had heard his prayer.
For the next two weeks, Jared practiced basketball as much as he could. When the big day came, Jared did his best. He ran quickly between plays, made most of his shots, and cheered for his teammates.
“The following players will continue with tryouts for the team,” the coach said after the first round. “Please listen for your name.”
Jared’s heart thumped loudly. The coach called one name. Then another. And another. Jared felt his hope of making the team start to fade.
Soon the coach finished the list. He hadn’t called Jared’s name. Jared would not be moving on to the next round of tryouts.
Jared sat on the bench outside the gym and stared at his shoes. He had worked so hard. But it felt like all his work was for nothing.
When Mom picked him up, Jared shook his head. “I didn’t make the team.”
Mom wrapped him in a tight hug. “I’m sorry it didn’t turn out how we wanted,” she said.
Jared took a deep breath. Then, a comforting thought came to him.
“Things won’t always work out how I want,” he said. “But Jesus Christ knows exactly how I feel. He’s on my side.”
Mom smiled. “You’re right! He does know how you feel.”
Jared smiled back. He was still sad, but he felt better knowing the Savior understood how he felt. Jared knew Jesus would always love and support him.
Illustrations by Britain Morris

At this time in our lives, my father had drifted into inactivity from the Church, so my mother relied on ward priesthood leaders to help raise us. Ned Brimley was our home teacher. One Sunday I was passing the sacrament and I went into the foyer with a tray of water, we had already passed the bread. A woman was just walking into the building late so, I approached her with the tray and she took the water. Mind you, the bread had already been passed. Brother Brimley happened to be in the foyer with his young daughter. As I made my way back into the chapel, Ned pulled me close and whispered, “NEVER PASS THE WATER TO SOMEONE WHO HASN’T TAKEN THE BREAD. THE SACRAMENT IS SEQUENTIAL. I’LL EXPLAIN WHEN I VISIT THIS WEEK.” I did NOT know what the word “sequential” meant but I was intrigued.
Later in the week when Brother Brimley visited, he came with a lesson about how the earth was created in seven days and how God created it in “sequence.” God started by separating light from darkness, the waters from earth, plant life, animals and so forth before Adam and Eve. Then he rested on the seventh day. The creation was “sequential.” He explained the priesthood is also ordained in sequence. Aaronic before Melchizedek. Each office within those priesthoods is sequential, deacon, teacher, and priests. Elder, high priests, Bishop and so forth. It’s sequential. Faith precedes the miracle. Sequential. Baptism is followed by the laying on of hands for the gift of the Holy Ghost. Sequential. The sacrament? Sequential. The bread is always blessed and taken before the water. Brother Brimley ended by searing these words into my heart as a 12-year-old deacon: “Vai, God’s House is one of order. He expects you to live your life with order; sequentially. Serve a mission. Go to college. Get married. Then have children. If you have children BEFORE marriage, your life will be out of sequence, out of order and you will have problems. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir Brother Brimley. I do.”
I understood the word “sequential” at age 12 in a powerfully personal and unforgettable way that many of my peers, even ones much smarter than me, could ever know it. Guess what? These lessons stayed with me. In time, when I was on a date with a cute girl, I remembered, “Sequential. College. Mission. Marriage. Children. College. Mission. Marriage. Children.”

At an encampment in Finland, the Scouts decided I should know how to sauna. Finns heat their saunas to 170 or 180 degrees. President Olli Roto, the stake president who was teaching me, along with the Scouts, who were experts, made a small bundle of birch branches. When we really began to perspire, he took the bundle of birch leaves and swatted me all over my back, chest, and legs, and said, “That brings the blood to the surface.” I said, “It works.” Then we ran down and dove into the Baltic Sea, then went back into the sauna. It’s amazing what we learn when we’re working with youth.

“Serving a mission in Brazil was a great turning point in my life,” declared Elder Sorensen. “When I was twenty and had just completed two years of college at the University of Chicago on an academic/athletic scholarship, I had doubts about my going on a mission. When I returned home that summer, Mom said to me, ‘Well, now you can prepare for your mission.’”
Elder Sorensen told his mother that he had changed his mind and didn’t think that he would serve a mission. “I’ll never forget the hurt look on Mom’s face,” he recalled, “after I told her my decision. She didn’t scold me, but afterward she privately cried and prayed.
“I didn’t go back to school in Chicago that fall. With the help of Mom and Dad and a wise and understanding bishop, I accepted a mission call to Brazil and left for South America in 1940.
“It wasn’t very long after I arrived in the mission field and began studying the scriptures regularly that my testimony really began to grow. Since then it has never wavered but has grown stronger. I’m grateful to the Lord and my parents for guiding me at that very important crossroad.
“Children, listen to your parents. They love you more than anyone else does, except your Father in Heaven, who has an even greater capacity to love. If you follow their good teachings and example, you will always be happy that you did. And remember to follow the counsel and guidance of Church leaders, particularly your bishop.”

At a recent Eagle Scout recognition dinner, I heard an outstanding Eagle Scout talk about his relationship with his devoted father who was also his Scoutmaster:

“On those trips our Scoutmaster talked of things other than merit badges. He talked about Paul when we were hiking, Nephi when we were sitting around the fire, Abraham when we were looking at the stars, and Jesus of Nazareth just before we said our prayers and went to sleep. And at one time or another, he sent us each out alone to pray as Joseph Smith had prayed.

“I listened very closely to our Scoutmaster and tried to do what he said. My Scoutmaster is my father, and I want to be like him.

“If I can remember what I learned on those hikes up and over and down and into the mountains, I believe I can make it through the journey of life.”

“I remember a little six- or seven-year-old girl whom I met in Ethiopia. She was collecting water from an irrigation ditch. It was full of silt and mud, but it was the only water available. She went down a very steep bank with a basin and a cutoff plastic bottle, which she used as a dipper, and filled the basin with the black water. Then she carried it home on her head. God bless those dear little ones. How He must love them. And how heavy are the burdens that they have to carry. It tears at my heart.

“She’s at the garden.”
That’s what a lot of families in the Tempe Arizona West Stake Tenth Ward are hearing when they are looking for their teenage daughter. In starting their Experiment upon the Word project, the Young Women chose to read the New Testament and to raise a garden. Each girl would have a row where she could grow what she chose. She would be responsible for keeping it weed free. She was also responsible for reading each day and for bringing her scriptures to church each week.
There were some surprises waiting. What was unexpected was how the garden made these girls feel. It turned out to be a place of peace, a refuge where they could go to be quiet and get away from the world. Sally Painter, 18, said, “I’ve always thought of my home as a haven, but the garden turned into a second haven to get away from the world. It’s always quiet.”
And the scriptures became the same type of refuge, something that made the girls feel better and more peaceful. “I had hardly ever read my scriptures,” said Alison Johnston, 14. “Now I read every night. I finished Matthew and was so proud of myself. I understood it a lot better.”
There was a lot of preparation for both the garden and the scripture reading. In the garden the girls had to haul in truckloads of manure and sand to prepare the soil. They even brought in earthworms and tried to coax them to stay in their rows.
Before starting to read, the girls held a fast. Amanda Romney, 13, said, “This was the first time I had ever fasted for anything specific. It was a lot easier to pray when you knew what you were doing it for.”
As their garden began to bear fruit, the Young Women battled bugs and weeds. In their reading, they have battled fatigue and procrastination. And the peace is something they have grown to love. Sara Painter, 15, said, “The garden gives you a peaceful feeling just like you get when you read the scriptures.”

As a bishop, I worried about any members who were inactive, not attending, not serving. Such was my thought one day as I drove down the street where Ben and Emily lived. They were older—even in the twilight period of life. Aches and pains of advancing years caused them to withdraw from activity to the shelter of their home—isolated, detached, shut out from the mainstream of daily life and association.
That day I felt the unmistakable prompting to park my car and visit Ben and Emily, even though I was on my way to a meeting. It was a sunny weekday afternoon. I approached the door to their home and knocked. Emily answered. When she recognized me, her bishop, she exclaimed: “All day long I have waited for my phone to ring. It has been silent. I hoped that the postman would deliver a letter. He brought only bills. Bishop, how did you know today is my birthday?”
I answered, “God knows, Emily, for He loves you.”
In the quiet of their living room, I said to Ben and Emily: “I don’t know why I was directed here today, but our Heavenly Father knows. Let’s kneel in prayer and ask Him why.” This we did, and the answer came. Emily, who had a beautiful voice, was asked to sing in the choir—even to provide a solo for the forthcoming ward conference. Ben was asked to speak to the Aaronic Priesthood young men and recount a special experience in his life when his safety was assured by responding to the promptings of the Spirit.
She sang. He spoke. Hearts were gladdened by the return to activity of Ben and Emily. They rarely missed a sacrament meeting from that day to the time each was called home. The language of the Spirit had been spoken. It had been heard. It had been understood. Hearts were touched and lives saved.

One final example of how we saw my father’s beliefs through his actions comes from my niece Amberly and her husband, Jason. When they were dating they went to visit my father in the month before his surgery. Since Amberly was attending Ricks College—now BYU–Idaho—in Rexburg, she would often go to Logan on the weekends to visit her grandparents, and she had seen my father’s health deteriorate. On this particular visit she had brought Jason, who was then her boyfriend. Being the boyfriend, Jason slept on the couch, and there he witnessed my father restlessly wandering about the house all night trying to find a comfortable chair in which he could sleep.

This restless night preceded a Sunday morning when my father was scheduled to teach a Gospel Doctrine class in his ward. As Amberly and Jason watched my father walk across the church parking lot, they wondered if he would make it because each step required great effort and concentration. Here is the rest of the story in Amberly’s own words:

When it came time for his Gospel Doctrine ­lesson, he taught Alma 5. I knew he was dying. He had been dying for several years, and as I sat listening to one of my favorite people in the world talk about being prepared to meet God, I was overwhelmed by the Spirit and my love for my grandpa. Personal preparation is a lifelong effort, and my grandpa was a living example of that preparation.

He ended his powerful lesson by saying, “I hope that when I leave this life and see God, I can say, as the Apostle Paul did: ‘I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith’” [2 Timothy 4:7]. I knew what a fight he had made just to get into the building. And then he stood for fifty minutes to teach the lesson. He had fought a good fight, finished his course, and kept the faith that very day. My perspective on preparation and enduring to the end was forever changed by the faithful example of my grandpa that day.

On that day, my niece and her boyfriend saw the strength of my father’s testimony and saw what he believed through the faithful way in which he magnified his calling.

The call came that comes to every missionary now and again. I was serving in California, and it was time for me to transfer to a new area. As soon as I met my new companion, Elder Wilding, he hurried us out of the door. He was not one to waste time when there were so many people waiting to hear the gospel.
Elder Wilding said we had an appointment to teach a first discussion later that day. As we were out contacting people, he told me about the man we would be teaching.
His name was Ray, and he had a habit of walking the streets at night. It wasn’t because he liked walking or taking in the night air. It was because Ray had fallen on hard times, and the downtown streets were the closest thing to someplace he could call home.
Elder Wilding and his previous companion ran into Ray on their way home one night. They had talked briefly with him about the Church and the Book of Mormon. They had asked if he would like a copy of the book and if they could come back and teach him more. Ray had accepted the book and said he would meet them at the corner bookstore the next day.
I took all this in but was stuck on the part about Ray living on the streets. I was picturing in my mind a man with a scraggly gray beard, wearing a faded trench coat, and begging for money to buy a drink. I couldn’t see how we could do anything for this man from the streets.
We reached the bookstore and went in. The two levels of the store were filled with row after row of books. Upstairs were some tables and chairs where people could sit and read. It looked more like a library than a bookstore. We passed several people wandering around as we headed upstairs. When we got there, Elder Wilding went over to a man sitting at a table reading a book. The man looked no different from the other people in the bookstore. And at first I was wondering who he was. Then I noticed the book the man was reading. It was the Book of Mormon.
Ray was nothing like the man I had been expecting. He was a middle-aged guy who had just had a streak of bad luck. Some people who have lost their jobs, their home, and everything they have turn bitter at the world and expect others to solve their problems. But there was something different about Ray. He wasn’t about to wait for someone to come along with a handout. When he couldn’t find a job that paid him enough to survive, he took two jobs. Although his pay was scarcely above minimum wage, he was determined to get himself off the street as soon as possible.
You would have thought after seeing Ray that my heart would have softened, but I was still skeptical. However, as we taught Ray about Jesus Christ and told him about Joseph Smith and the Book of Mormon, he was genuinely interested in what we had to say. He told us to meet him again in two days’ time.
Soon we were teaching Ray regularly, meeting in many different places. I would have to say the most interesting place was in a coffee house. It was at this meeting that we were to teach Ray about the Word of Wisdom. I didn’t miss the irony that we were going to commit Ray to stop drinking coffee in a place where he was surrounded by the stuff.
Ray was waiting for us. I groaned inwardly when I saw the cup of coffee sitting next to him. He sipped his coffee while we taught. I wondered if he would laugh at us when we asked him to stop drinking coffee.
The time came, and we asked Ray if he would live the Word of Wisdom. I braced myself for his reaction. He didn’t hesitate. He looked around and said, “I guess we’ll want to meet somewhere else next time.” He told us that there was a little Mexican restaurant a few blocks away. He was friends with the owner. They had a balcony in the back used for large groups, and he thought the owners would let us meet there.
Ray gained a testimony and was baptized and confirmed. A Church member in his new ward offered him a spare room he could rent. Ray thanked the Lord for getting him off the streets and back on his feet. He said it was not until the Church and the gospel came into his life that things started coming back together for him.
My heart had finally been softened, and my eyes were opened to see the Lord’s hand in Ray’s life. I was humbled to learn that Heavenly Father is mindful of all His children and sees the great potential in each and every one of us—even when we can’t see it ourselves.

Every time I turned around there was something new that I wanted to do. Then my teacher told my class we were supposed to write a book and turn it in. I was reluctant to even try because it seemed enormously boring to me. When I tried, I found that I liked writing, and I had all sorts of ideas to write down on paper. I am absolutely certain that I want to be an author. I wouldn’t even know I liked to write if I hadn’t been forced to do that assignment. My advice to you is to take every opportunity you can get to try new things. Don’t be judgmental before you try it.
Melanie Wise, 12Green River, Wyoming

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

In the Rio Rancho Stake we held a trek to represent the treks pioneers made many years ago. We all had the opportunity to be dressed in the pioneer attire and feel like authentic pioneers ourselves. We had a total of 19 to 20 carts going through a trail which challenged us physically, mentally, and spiritually. We had to hike 14 miles in order to make it to our Zion (or in other words, base camp). There were so many points along the trail that challenged us, but there was never a point where we gave up on anyone.
The Spirit was so strong at the fireside on the last day that it was hard not to realize what all that the pioneers of old had to endure to give us what we have. I was able to learn so much from this experience, and I am forever grateful for those who traveled so many miles to follow the gospel of Jesus Christ. I hope I may be able to be an example to many of this generation and to future generations, as the pioneers of old are to this generation.
Alexa P., New Mexico

When my father-in-law passed away, our family gathered together to greet others who came to pay their respects. Throughout the evening, as I visited with family and friends, I often noticed our 10-year-old grandson, Porter, standing near my mother-in-law—his “granny.” Sometimes he was standing behind her, watching over her. Once I noticed his arm linked with hers. I watched him pat her hands, give her little hugs, and stand by her side.

For several days after that experience, I couldn’t get this image out of my mind. I was prompted to send Porter a note, telling him what I had observed. I emailed him and told him what I had seen and felt. I reminded Porter of the covenants he had made when he was baptized, quoting Alma’s words in Mosiah chapter 18:

“And now, as ye are desirous to come into the fold of God, and to be called his people, and are willing to bear one another’s burdens, that they may be light;
“Yea, and are willing to mourn with those that mourn; yea, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort, and to stand as witnesses of God at all times and in all things, and in all places that ye may be in, even until death, … that ye may have eternal life—
“… If this be the desire of your hearts, what have you against being baptized in the name of the Lord, as a witness before him that ye have entered into a covenant with him, that ye will serve him and keep his commandments, that he may pour out his Spirit more abundantly upon you?”1

I explained to Porter that Alma taught that those who want to be baptized need to be willing to serve the Lord by serving others—for your whole life! I said: “I don’t know if you realized it, but the way you showed love and concern for Granny was keeping your covenants. We keep our covenants every day as we are kind, show love, and take care of each other. I just wanted you to know I’m proud of you for being a covenant keeper! As you keep the covenant you made when you were baptized, you will be prepared to be ordained to the priesthood. This additional covenant will give you more opportunities to bless and serve others and help you to prepare for the covenants you will make in the temple. Thank you for being such a good example to me! Thank you for showing me what it looks like to be a covenant keeper!”

Porter replied back: “Grandma, thanks for the message. When I was always hugging Granny, I didn’t know that I was keeping my covenants, but I felt warm in my heart and felt really good. I know that it was the Holy Ghost in my heart.”

I also felt warm in my heart when I realized that Porter had connected keeping his covenants with the promise to “always have his Spirit to be with [us]”2—a promise made possible by receiving the gift of the Holy Ghost.

On my mission, a lot of people asked me these kinds of questions. And I always had an answer for them. I had faith in the gospel and knew that no matter what happened, God would be there for me.
Or at least I thought I did.
Fourteen months into my mission, I woke up one morning and something was wrong. I felt extremely dizzy and began tripping over my words. Every day after, things got worse. Life felt hazy. I was exhausted. I couldn’t hold conversations, read my scriptures, or exercise. Even just staying awake felt impossible.
Soon I was on a plane home earlier than I had planned. My mission ended so abruptly, and my plans for life weren’t going as I expected. I was suddenly asking the question that many had asked me on my mission:
Why did God let this happen to me?
I searched for answers. I was sure I would go back on my mission because I still had so much left to do and learn! I had been faithful and obedient, so I had to be blessed for that, right? Every day I told myself that doctors would find a cure and I would go back. I prayed constantly. But over time, with no answers, I was forced to accept that my mission really was over.
Without answers, time passed like a dream. Nothing felt real. I always felt half asleep. My favorite hobbies were even impossible for me. I grew lost spiritually and turned away from God. In my pain I believed that I couldn’t return to the light. So I became comfortable in darkness.
But after months of darkness, a miracle happened, and a doctor diagnosed me with narcolepsy with cataplexy, which is an autoimmune disorder that damages the part of the brain that regulates the sleep and wake cycle.
My condition wasn’t curable, but we could at least treat my symptoms. And this answer was a ray of hope that also inspired me to find the light of Christ in my life again.
So, humbled, I said a sincere prayer and asked again,
Why did this happen to me?
And in my renewed hope, the Spirit told me that I already knew the answer.
One of my favorite scriptures is Romans 8:28, “And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God.” All things—including challenges.
I knew this truth.
I had taught this many times on my mission. But I hadn’t applied it to my own life. I realized I had built up anger at God since I returned home early from my mission. I hadn’t found the peace He promises because I hadn’t allowed Him to offer me those blessings.
As President Russell M. Nelson has taught, “The joy we feel has little to do with the circumstances of our lives and everything to do with the focus of our lives.”1
In my limited view, I had been resentful toward Him and didn’t want to be happy until my life went the way I wanted it to. But Heavenly Father reminded me that there was a higher purpose to my pain—to enable me to come unto Christ, be changed, and experience joy. After all, “Adam fell that men might be; and men are, that they might have joy” (2 Nephi 2:25).
Elder D. Todd Christofferson of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles has taught: “In the midst of this refiner’s fire, rather than get angry with God, get close to God. Call upon the Father in the name of the Son. Walk with Them in the Spirit, day by day. Allow Them over time to manifest Their fidelity to you. Come truly to know Them and truly to know yourself. Let God prevail.”2
I understand now that knowing that Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ are with us will not always remove the stings of this life. I still struggle with my illness. But trusting and loving Them will always give meaning to the seemingly meaningless pains and “whys” we endure. Every affliction, every disappointment, every pain can transform from a stinging blow into a lesson lovingly taught by our Heavenly Father and His Son, Jesus Christ.
As I continue to seek Them, They continue to teach me and offer me joy each day.