Gospel Story Finder

Sometimes important choices are quite simple. As young missionaries serving in England, my companion and I had the opportunity to go to the temple. As we crossed the temple grounds, the temple president, Selvoy J. Boyer, walked toward us. Seeing our missionary badges, he pointed at us and asked: “Matthew 5:48—do you know that scripture?” My companion stated, “Be ye therefore perfect, even as your father which is in heaven is perfect.” President Boyer said, “That is correct. Elders, are you living that commandment?”

We started to stammer; we knew we were not perfect! He helped us. He asked questions about what we had done for the past three days. He asked about when we went to bed, when we got up, whether we had individual and companion scripture study, and whether we went proselytizing on time. He then said, “I am sure you are not perfect, but you have made perfect choices for the past three days, and that means you are moving in the right direction.” He left us thinking about the importance of what he had asked.

During high school my heart wasn’t really in the gospel. In the mission field I slowly learned what a mission was really about and wanted the power and progress it could bring in my life if I were truly worthy. Finally, the guilt and sorrow from past transgressions bore me down, and I wanted freedom—to be clean and to be a better tool in the Lord’s hand. After some discussion with my mission president, I went home to take time to repent.
Returning home was among the hardest times of my life. I began reading the scriptures differently, actually understanding and applying them. While I was doing everything “right,” I still felt a great burden of guilt. Then I started to focus my studies on Christ and His Atonement, how He could be my Savior and how His infinite Atonement could redeem my soul. One night while meditating upon all I had learned from those prayerful studies, I felt the Spirit touch my heart, heal my soul, and comfort me. I felt secure and loved, and my guilt left.
When I first got home, I thought a change of heart was all I needed for the repentance process. Now I know that I needed time to repent—change comes line upon line, a little at a time. It requires prolonged effort to change our hearts, desires, and habits to be more like Christ. We can’t make 180-degree changes instantaneously, but because of the Atonement, they can happen completely.
Name withheld, Georgia, USA

The Obedoza family is a great example of this. Brother Obedoza was my branch president when I was a young man. Brother and Sister Obedoza’s greatest desire was to be sealed to their family in the Manila Temple. They lived in General Santos City, 1,000 miles (1,600 km) away from Manila. For the family of nine, making the journey to the temple seemed impossible. But like the merchant man who went and sold all he had to buy one pearl of great price (see Matthew 13:45–46), this couple decided to sell their house to pay for the trip. Sister Obedoza was worried because they would have no home to return to. But Brother Obedoza assured her that the Lord would provide.
They were sealed as a family for time and all eternity in the temple in 1985. In the temple they found joy incomparable—their priceless pearl. And true to Brother Obedoza’s words, the Lord did provide. On their return from Manila, kind acquaintances gave them places to stay, and they eventually acquired their own home. The Lord takes care of those who demonstrate their faith in Him.

On a visit to my daughter in Kentucky, USA, I discovered an old Appalachian musical instrument called the mountain dulcimer. I was teaching some of my grandchildren to play music and found it is easy to learn to play simple melodies on the dulcimer. This portable and easy-to-store stringed instrument makes for fun family music while we sit around the campfire or at home.
One afternoon my daughter and I went to see if we could find someone who built dulcimers. We found an elderly man who lived in a little cabin on a country road. He built mountain dulcimers and had the perfect one for me.
Over the next few years, I learned to play and taught several of my grandchildren to play as well. I wanted to give each grandchild a dulcimer, but buying 17 of them would be expensive. So I decided to learn to build them myself.
I began by researching the history of this uniquely American instrument. I found that an instrument similar to the dulcimer, called a scheitholt, was probably brought to the United States in the 1700s by German or Scandinavian immigrants. At about the same time, Scotch-Irish immigrants also played the scheitholt. As time went on, people began to create modified versions of the scheitholt, which eventually became the mountain dulcimer. I also found that the name dulcimer is derived from the Latin dolce melos, or “sweet sound.”
Imagine my surprise when later, as I was preparing family history stories, I discovered that some of my mother’s mostly German ancestors and my father’s Scotch-Irish ancestors had played the mountain dulcimer! I was amazed that, generations later, I had discovered the instrument and had been teaching my grandchildren how to play it! What a wonderful musical connection between me and my ancestors and descendants! I am grateful for family history work, which has helped me appreciate my ancestors and feel a connection with them through the sweet sound of the mountain dulcimer.

Once while travelling from Egypt back to Jerusalem, we were at a border crossing in the middle of the desert. There was no mosque and we were waiting for a bus to come and take us along our journey home. We noticed a young Muslim man who was waiting with us leave our group and found a cardboard box that he flattened out. He picked it up and went a ways off the road into the desert and looked up into the sky to get his bearings and set the flattened box on the ground and then proceeded to pray towards Mecca. I was at first amused but then quickly rebuked as I admired this man's devotion towards God. He was living his religion despite the inconveniences and what others might think. I was deeply envious of this dear Son of God and his devotion to his God. A great lesson was taught and learned that day.

As a student, you probably have or will learn about William Shakespeare in school. But what if, instead, Shakespeare was a student who learned at your school? For David Arnold, this was a reality. He went to King Edward VI School in England, where Shakespeare is said to have attended.
This school was appealing to David because it has a good reputation. Getting in is also really competitive, and David didn’t know if he would be accepted when he applied at age 11.
But getting into the school taught David something about himself: “I’m better than I thought I was,” he says. “It made me realize that I can do it.”

One week after my graduation in April 1987, my wife and I and our two little girls came up here to Rexburg to be at my sister’s wedding. She was getting married in the Idaho Falls Temple. Her new in-laws both worked at Ricks College and knew the photographer at the time was looking for an intern. I had my portfolio in hand and résumé printed up, so I was excited to have my first interview. While at the interview, my wife, who was 6 months pregnant at the time, went into premature labor. As soon as I heard this scary news, I rushed up to the hospital, where my wife soon delivered our first-born son, weighing only 1 lb. 8 oz. He was so tiny. His lungs were way too underdeveloped. He only lived a half hour.

The doctor was surprised he was born alive, so he gave us a private room to give us some bonding time.

The Lord knew we needed to be here in Rexburg at this time. He knew, because of the wedding, we would have family here to give us that extra love and support we needed during this time of great trial. Along with that tender mercy we were also blessed by many members who reached out and showed their love. A wedding, a job interview, a birth, and a funeral all in one weekend—a weekend we will never forget. God did not leave us alone during such a challenging time. Instead He poured out many tender mercies through so many others. The blessings of heaven were truly poured out upon us. It is wonderful to have a testimony of God’s great plan of happiness, to know our little Michael Scott is there waiting for us.

As a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints you are never alone. The Church makes this world so much smaller, because as a member you are part of one big family. May we always be ready to reach out and serve those around us who are in need.

When I was about 10, I made my first attempt to read the Book of Mormon. The first part was easy-flowing New Testament language. Then I came to the writings of the Old Testament prophet Isaiah. I could not understand them; I found them difficult to read. I laid the book aside.
I made other attempts to read the Book of Mormon. I did not read it all until I was on a troop ship with other bomber crew members, headed for the war in the Pacific. I determined that I would read the Book of Mormon and find out for myself whether it is true or not. Carefully I read and reread the book. I tested the promise that it contained. That was a life-changing event. After that, I never set the book aside.

I remember having a particularly difficult time at one point during my mission to Cleveland, Ohio. I wondered why I wasn’t seeing the same tangible success other missionaries in my area seemed to be having. My own weakness was foremost in my mind as I pondered the dilemma. I couldn’t help but think that I was doing something wrong, though I couldn’t pinpoint what it was. I counseled with the Lord many times about the situation and also turned to the scriptures. One morning in my study of the Book of Mormon, I came across a verse that was the answer to my prayers and added strength to my testimony.
“Wherefore, I, Nephi, did strive to keep the commandments of the Lord, and I did exhort my brethren to faithfulness and diligence” (1 Nephi 17:15).
I had always thought of Nephi as a great prophet who never made any mistakes. I admired Nephi, but I felt I would never be as great as he was. However, when I read this verse written by Nephi, I realized that he was mortal and imperfect also. He didn’t write, “I, Nephi, kept all the commandments perfectly all the time.” Rather, he wrote that he “did strive to keep the commandments of the Lord.”
That simple verse touched me. Suddenly I realized that I am no different from Nephi or any other great prophet or missionary. We’ve been given the same commandments, and they will be judged on how well they improved their time on earth just as I will be. I don’t have to be perfect; I only have to strive to keep the commandments and do the very best I can with the abilities I have been given. In the end, when I come up short of perfection, it will be the Lord’s grace that will make up for the rest. Through this otherwise simple verse, I gained a greater testimony of the scriptures as communication from Heavenly Father.

When I was three years old, we lived in Tahiti. My parents being a young couple with three children, myself, my sister Janette who was one, and my brother Douglas who was just a little over a month old, had the opportunity to travel to New Zealand with the first group of Tahitians to be sealed in the Auckland New Zealand temple. My parents tried to save all they could to make this special journey.

As time got closer to leaving, my parents did not have enough money to make this trip. Since they did not have enough money saved, they went to President Stone and told him that their family could be taken off the list because they do not have the funds and will not be going. With just a few weeks to go before the trip, President Stone told my dad to try all that he can to raise the money and to have faith and the Lord will provide the way.

After much fasting and praying, opportunities started to come. My dad was able to do some extra driving for the military that allowed him to work overtime, and my mom, who was a seamstress and sewed clothes for a Chinese couple in Tahiti, was also able to take on some extra sewing.

Because of their faith in the Lord and their trust in him, my parents, along with my grandparents and 56 other Tahitians, were able to travel to New Zealand, and we were sealed as a family on December 25, 1963. This was truly a miracle and a blessing. The best gift anyone could ever ask for on such a special day.

In early 1965, I was assigned to attend stake conferences and to hold other meetings throughout the South Pacific area. This was my first visit to that part of the world, and it was a time never to be forgotten. Much that was spiritual in nature occurred during this assignment as I met with leaders, members, and missionaries.

On the weekend of Saturday and Sunday, February 20 and 21, we were in Brisbane, Australia, to hold regular conference sessions of the Brisbane Stake. During meetings on Saturday, I was introduced to the district president from an adjoining area. As I shook his hand, I had a strong impression that I needed to speak with him and to provide counsel, and so I asked him if he would accompany me to the Sunday morning session the following day so that this could be accomplished.

Following the Sunday session, we had an opportunity to visit together. We talked of his many responsibilities as district president. As we did so, I felt impressed to offer him specific suggestions concerning missionary work and how he and his members could help the full-time missionaries in their labors in his area. I later learned that this man had been praying for guidance in this regard. To him our visit was a special witness that his prayers were heard and answered. This was a seemingly unremarkable meeting but one which I am convinced was guided by the Spirit and which made a difference in that district president’s life and administration, in the lives of his members, and in the success of the missionaries there.

Our daughter, Emily, describes the darkness of an unanswered request for guidance as being in the middle of a room where there is no glimmer of light. She knows there is a light switch, but its whereabouts are a mystery. She is tempted to stay safely rooted where she is, but choosing safety means never finding the light. So she moves tentatively forward feeling carefully for each step determined to find a wall, because light switches are usually on walls.

I watched Emily apply this metaphor when she neared college graduation; interestingly as she felt her way in the dark, she seemed to develop an internal flashlight whose beam was just bright enough to illuminate her next step. She learned to trust, not just in Heavenly Father, but in her own tuition. This type of strength could not occur if Heavenly Father had laid out her steps in bright LED lights.

When I was 17 years old, I had been to many different Church dances, early morning seminary classes, and even a few Church meetings, but I was not a member of the Church.
One Sunday afternoon I was home with my mom. I think I had disappointed her and was feeling very down. My friend Karen called to see if I wanted to go to a fireside with her. I wasn’t familiar with that meeting. I truly thought that we would be outdoors by a campfire.
I agreed and attended the fireside with her and several other friends. I remember that as the speaker came to the pulpit, he started by saying, “Who am I?”
I thought to myself, “I am a horrible person. My mom is mad at me.” The speaker continued, “I am a son, I am a father, I am an uncle, I am an American citizen.” And then he paused. It became very quiet, and he said, “I am a child of God.”
He looked into the audience. He looked at me and said, “You are a child of God.” And then he looked to someone else and said again, “You are a child of God.”
I was not yet familiar with the Spirit and what it felt like, but I got a lump in my throat and started to cry. I was a little embarrassed and didn’t know what to think, so I left. I walked down the hall and found a phone and called my sister and her husband, who are Church members, and asked if I could talk to the missionaries that night. We met with them, and I was baptized three weeks later. The Spirit truly witnessed to me that night that I was a child of God.

Justin, next week is your turn to be Student of the Week!” Mrs. Mills announced. She handed him a paper explaining what he needed to do. “Can you make sure to bring your ‘About Me’ poster on Monday?”
Justin nodded and held the paper tight. Part of him felt excited. Being student of the week meant he could take Buddy, the teacher’s stuffed toy rabbit, on an adventure and bring his mom to lunch on Friday.
But part of him felt really nervous too. He did not want to stand in front of the class. Whenever Mrs. Mills called on him, he looked down at his desk while he answered so no one would pay attention to him. But next week he’d have to stand in front of the whole class and talk about himself. He’d even have to call on people and answer questions. Everyone would be looking right at him!
That weekend was full of fun. Justin took Buddy on a sleepover at his cousin’s house and drew a picture of them all together. Then he designed the “About Me” poster just right. He added a drawing of his favorite treat (brownies) and a map of places he’d visited (like California and Texas). And of course there was a picture of Justin’s family. On Sunday, Justin even set up a stuffed-animal Primary for Buddy!
But in the back of his mind, Justin kept worrying about talking to the class on Monday. What should I say? he wondered. What if I can’t talk when everyone is looking at me? What if I can’t talk loud enough?
Finally Monday morning came, and Justin said a prayer for help before heading to school with Buddy and his poster. When it was Justin’s turn to speak, his stomach was doing flips. He took a deep breath and stood up.
Please help me do this, he prayed as he walked to the front of the class. Please help me be brave.
Justin told the class all about the favorite things on his poster. When it was time to answer questions, he made sure to call on both boys and girls. Before he knew it, it was time to sit down! Justin felt great about how he’d done.
After school Mom asked Justin how it had gone.
“I was brave enough to talk a lot in class today. You know why? I prayed twice.”
On Tuesday, Justin was supposed to bring a bag with something he loved inside. He walked to the front of the class and pulled out his favorite book, about a snake who wanted to play ball with his friends. Then he flipped open the cover and cleared his throat. He read as loud as he could.
“Remember that you are a child of Heavenly Father.
Pray for help.
Smile, take a deep breath, and try to relax.
Try new things.
Think how you could help others.
Don’t give up!
Include everyone.
Give sincere compliments.
Find out about what talents your friends have.
Listen without interrupting.
Let your shy friends speak for themselves.
Don’t force others into uncomfortable situations.
Follow Jesus’s example and treat people with love and respect!

Earlier this year, I was diagnosed with lupus, and I was put into the intensive care unit at the medical center. As I lay motionless in bed, attached to about six different IV’s, my older sister and my mom would read to me. My sister read the New Era to me. We all were amazed because the stories seemed like they were written especially for me and my family at that time. “To Be Healed,” “Rising above the Blues,” “Reach Out and Climb,” and “Be Prayerful” were some that touched me a lot (see April 2002).
I am doing much better now, thanks to the gospel and priesthood blessings.Chandra PainterOgden, Utah

Let me share a personal example of this truth. I distinctly recall a time when I received a prompting in answer to mighty prayer. The answer was clear and powerful. However, I failed to act immediately on the prompting, and after a period of time I began to wonder if what I had felt had been real. Some of you may have fallen for that deception of the adversary as well.
Several days later, I awoke with these powerful verses of scripture in my mind:
“Verily, verily, I say unto you, if you desire a further witness, cast your mind upon the night that you cried unto me in your heart. …
“Did I not speak peace to your mind concerning the matter? What greater witness can you have than from God?”7
It was as if the Lord was saying, “Now, Ronald, I already told you what you needed to do. Now do it!” How grateful I was for that loving correction and direction! I was immediately comforted by the prompting and was able to move forward, knowing in my heart that my prayer had been answered.
I share this experience, dear brothers and sisters, to demonstrate how quickly our minds can forget and how spiritual experiences guide us. I have learned to cherish such moments “lest I forget.”

My great-great-grandmother Eliza Cusworth was born in England in 1824 and married Joseph Burton in 1846. They lived happily for a few years and had two children, Joseph and Martha. In 1849 two LDS missionaries came to the area, and both Eliza and Joseph listened to them, gained testimonies of the gospel, and were baptized. The counsel of the prophet at that time was for the Saints to migrate to Utah. Joseph and Eliza started saving so that they could make the journey.

Joseph was employed as a carrier delivering goods from the depot to various stores. While lifting at work he broke a blood vessel, which resulted in his death a short time later. His dying request to Eliza was for her to migrate to Utah so she could do their temple work and raise their children among the Saints in Zion. Eliza promised him she would do this.

Understandably, both Eliza’s and Joseph’s families discouraged her from making what they said was “a foolish journey.” Eliza’s mother said that if Eliza would stay with them, they would take care of her and her children, and she would want for nothing. Joseph’s family offered to give her any amount of money if she would stay in England. It was a difficult decision for Eliza. However, she had made a promise to her dying husband, and she knew the gospel was true, so she chose to go.

In the spring of 1856, at age 32, Eliza packed her trunks and embarked on the 6,000-mile journey with Joseph and Martha, her two children. They went by train to Liverpool, England, and boarded the shipHorizon on May 25, 1856. During the voyage Eliza suffered from severe seasickness. It got so bad that for about 10 days she was unable even to care for her children. The Horizon landed in Boston on June 30, 1856, and then Eliza and her children traveled by boat and train to Iowa City, Iowa, where the railway ended. She had planned to join a wagon train at Iowa City; however, upon arrival she discovered that they were too late—the last of the wagon trains had already gone. She had no choice but to wait for handcarts to be made. When the handcarts were ready, the travelers were told they would have to leave most of their belongings behind, as they could bring only necessities on the handcarts. Eliza’s trunks contained many of her valuable possessions—silverware, linen, bedsheets, and clothing. Most of it had to be left behind.

Eliza joined the Martin Handcart Company, which left Iowa City on July 30, 1856, for the 1,300-mile trek to Salt Lake City. She pulled the handcart, little seven-year-old Joseph walked and helped her pull the cart part of the time, and four-year-old Martha rode in the handcart. During the first part of the journey everyone got along quite well. At night many would gather around the campfires after supper and sing songs such as “Come, Come, Ye Saints.” However, travel was slower than expected because they had to stop frequently to repair the hurriedly made handcarts.

The days wore on, and the members of the company tried to encourage one another. Often the only fuel available was buffalo chips with which they made fires to do their cooking and dry their clothing. After a while their food began to run low. Sometimes the men were able to kill buffalo, but after the company’s store of salt gave out, the meat often made them sick. Toward the latter part of their journey, the food was almost gone, and rations were reduced to one-fourth pound of flour per person per day. The season was getting late and the nights were cold—their clothing was thin, and they had little bedding. In their weakened condition, many became discouraged and wondered if they would ever reach the Salt Lake Valley.

When the company reached Devil’s Gate, they ran out of food entirely. At some ranchers’ cabins they tried to buy food, but the ranchers could sell them only some pelts of deer and mountain sheep that were dry and old. After soaking them and scraping off the hair, they cooked them into a soup that was thickened with their last remaining flour. Eating this helped relieve their hunger for a time.

Eliza waded across the Sweetwater River three times in one evening. First, she took little Joseph across on her back. When she reached the other side, Joseph was so frightened that he wouldn’t stay by himself and tried to follow her back. Eliza had to tie him to a nearby tree while she went back to get Martha. Then she had to go back a third time to get her handcart. She spent part of the night in freezing weather drying her clothes over the fire.

An early winter storm struck as the group was plodding its way along the Sweetwater River about 50 miles north of what is now Rawlins, Wyoming. The company waded through an icy stream and sought shelter in a nearby cove. Using frying pans and tin plates, they cleared the snow away as best they could and pitched their tents beside a tiny spring. As the desperate Saints huddled together in the cove, everyone hoped and prayed that they could survive until help arrived.

Brigham Young heard that the handcart company was marooned in the snow and sent rescuers with teams and food to assist them. More than one-fourth of the 500 members of the Martin Handcart Company perished, and many more would have died had Brigham Young not sent the rescuers. Eliza and her two children suffered greatly, but somehow they made it, arriving in the Salt Lake Valley on November 30, 1856.

When Eliza reached the Salt Lake Valley, she inquired about William Cusworth, a cousin who had gone to Utah earlier in the season in a wagon train and with whom she intended to make her home for a while. She learned that he had become discouraged and had taken his family back to Iowa. She and her children were taken to the home of Isaac Leney, where they received care for a few weeks. Little Joseph lost two of his toes because his feet had been frozen.

They eventually settled in Pleasant Grove, where Eliza met and married Nathan Staker, a widower with several children. Eliza and Nathan moved to Mount Pleasant, where they helped pioneer Sanpete County. In addition to Joseph and Martha, Eliza had four children with Nathan Staker: three daughters and one son. Eliza raised her children and was a faithful Latter-day Saint all of her life, dying at age 90.

By any objective standard it was foolish for her, a single mother with two young children, to attempt the 6,000-mile journey by boat, train, and handcart. Why did she do it? Because she wanted to keep a promise she had made to her husband. As I look back on her decision 153 years later, I believe she did the right thing. She was able to make it safely, have her and Joseph’s temple work done, and raise their children in Zion. Because she was true to the promises she made to her husband and to God, I and her other descendants have been blessed beyond measure. I am confident that she and her husband Joseph are now together. I bless her name and am proud to call her my great-great-grandmother. One day when I meet her, I will embrace her and thank her for having the courage and humility to keep a promise to her husband and to follow the counsel of a prophet.

On the word poison, indulge me for a brief visit to the Holy Land.

Here was a group of BYU students sent out to have a "kibbutz" experience, which meant cutting back certain trees. They were warned when they went into this grove. "Somewhere out there you may run onto a thing—, black. They are known as vipers. Don't touch them! As soon as you see one, call us; and we will take care of it." We had an older student who'd had some experience with snakes. He came onto one. He took hold of it right up by the top of the neck. Instantly the viper turned and bit him, and his arm began to swell almost visibly. They ran. They ran for what they thought was the antidote. They gave him a shot. It wasn't the antidote. It was a tetanus shot. And by the time he realized he had not been given the antidote, he was already in critical condition. They took him to the hospital. Ann and I both visited. He barely survived after a priesthood blessing. The pain, the anguish, the swelling, the almost black-looking hand were unspeakably horrible. You live, as the Master said you would, in a generation of vipers. And I won't dwell on it except to tell you that the use of drugs is addictive; the use of pornography is addictive; the use of other substances that are now being called date drugs are not only poison, they will kill you. They will burn your brain ultimately. They will destroy your conscience. And you get to the point where you care about only one thing—own habit. And you will hurt your loved ones, and you will be unworthy of serving the Lord in His kingdom. Now there is always through Christ a way of starting back, but preventive medicine is better than medicine. I plead with you. If you don't start, you never have to stop.

Like many other young adults, Victor Kim of South Korea has found himself in situations where others didn’t share his standards:

“Sometimes at work, my colleagues and I went out to eat as a team, and they always drank. There was a lot of pressure to join in, and it wasn’t easy to turn everybody down. I always made sure that they knew beforehand that I don’t drink. Even still, I had to be strong and show confidence in my boundaries.

“In my experience, those who don’t set clear boundaries can become complacent and can eventually convince themselves that a little sin is OK. They can become numb to the Spirit and no longer see what is wrong and why it’s wrong.

“Peer pressure can also be really strong. Those who aren’t strong might eventually join in because what their friends are saying seems to make sense, even though it doesn’t fit our standards. But there is no middle ground. Eventually you have to choose.

“To stay strong, it helps to have a good friend so you can talk to each other and rely on each other. That way you can stay strong together. When I keep my standards, I feel safe. I’m worthy to ask God to protect me. I have faith that if I am obedient, He will help me.”

The familiar 10-hour drive from southern California to Utah should have been uneventful. The roads were clear of snow, and I was awake and alert. But I didn’t expect a 57-inch TV to suddenly appear in my lane. It had fallen from a pickup truck in front of us. I swerved, but not in time. We had hit the TV, and now I was struggling to get control.
My best friend, brother, and little stepsister were all in the car. My brother in the backseat woke up and started shouting that we were fine, but with the car still spinning, I wasn’t so sure.
Eventually, we came to a stop in the median. It was only then that my stepsister woke up, confused and in shock. There was nothing around us but empty, black desert and an occasional semitruck whizzing by. The four of us sat in silence for a moment, realizing we were still alive. None of us knew what to say or think. Then my best friend asked, “Should we say a prayer?” The idea was a welcome relief. The Spirit was the only thing that could calm our nerves at that time. We bowed our heads and thanked our Heavenly Father for preserving our lives. We asked Him to comfort us and help us to get home safely. My fear and shock from the accident wore off and I felt calm.
A police officer and the driver of the pickup came over, relieved to find everyone okay. The impact from the TV alone could have been fatal, even without the added danger of spinning. The car was damaged but drivable, and we got home safely. It amazes me to think of how much worse the outcome could have been. I am so grateful for my safety and the safety of my passengers. Before and since then, we start every long car trip with a prayer. I’m grateful that we can call on the power of the Lord to watch over us. But even with this added protection, accidents may happen. And if they do, we will have the Spirit to comfort us.