Gospel Story Finder

One of the fathers he was teaching had what was thought to be an incurable alcohol problem. Every day after work for twenty years, he bought alcohol and consumed it until he could hardly find his way home. He received friendship and encouragement to pray to heaven for help. One day after his work, while he was driving into the countryside with his bottle, a voice came into his heart to stop his car, walk out into the field, and pray to Father in Heaven for help. His simple prayer was heard by his Father in Heaven, and as he stood up and walked back to his car, all desire to drink liquor left his life. The powers of heaven had descended upon him, and he knew that God lived and loved him.

I heard him later stand before the members and testify of the love of God and of my friend and others who had ministered unto him and taught him.

Last year I found myself late at night on an airplane bulging with passengers going north from Mexico City to Culiacan. The seats in the plane were close together, and every seat was taken, mostly by the gracious people of Mexico. Everywhere inside the plane there were packages and carry-on luggage of all sizes.
A young woman came down the aisle with four small children, the oldest of which appeared to be about four and the youngest a newborn. She was also trying to manage a diaper bag, a stroller, and some bags. The children were tired, crying, and fussing. As she found her seat in the airplane, the passengers around her, both men and women, literally sprang to her aid. Soon the children were being lovingly and tenderly comforted and cared for by the passengers. They were passed from one passenger to another all over the airplane.
The result was an airplane full of baby-sitters. The children settled down in the caring arms of those who cradled them and, before long, went to sleep. Most remarkable was that a few men who were obviously fathers and grandfathers tenderly cradled and caressed the newborn child without any false, macho pride. The mother was freed from the care of her children for most of the flight.
The only thing I felt bad about was that no one passed the baby to me! I relearned that appreciation for and thoughtfulness and kindness to little children are an expression of the Savior’s love for them.

On that same long journey around the earth, we met another friend who once was on the faculty of Brigham Young University. His children were then grown, and he and his wife concluded that rather than retire into idleness—as they could well have done, and as millions of others do—they would find some place in the world where they could help some of our Father’s children by teaching them the truths that would save them.

They found such a land. They sold their beautiful home; they sold their car; they left friends and relatives for a distant, less comfortable place. But as they cast their bread upon the waters, the Lord opened opportunities for them to teach and lift and help. No one can foretell the consequences of their pioneering.

As I have thought of this man and woman who left the comforts of home and society and friends at an age when most people want to slow down and take it easy, I have thought of the words of the Lord, “And every one that hath forsaken houses, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or children or lands, for my name’s sake, shall receive an hundredfold, and shall inherit everlasting life.” (Matt. 19:29) I have thought the same whenever I meet or hear of other elderly brothers and sisters, single or married, who either volunteer or accept calls to serve the Lord in the missions of the Church.

Pili & Shyla LafaelePili and Shyla Lafaele are a young couple in my ward. Pili is a graduate of BYU-Hawaii and Shyla is still a student, and a working mom of two kids ages 2 and a newborn.
Just this past February, their oldest child, Tapasa, had some breathing difficulties coupled with high fever which was diagnosed to be strep pneumonia. It landed him in the Pediatric ICU at Kapiolani Hospital for a total of 6 weeks with all sorts of tubes hooked up to his little body. One machine provided oxygen directly to his nose, another replaced his lungs for breathing in order to allow his lungs to rest and heal and yet another assisted his kidneys to function. His parents took turns in the daily vigil to be by his side and their daily text messages to ward members were always positive and hopeful regarding Sa's condition and they always expressed gratitude for the prayers being offered on their family's behalf. On a day I went to give Shyla a ride home from the hospital I saw the still body of baby Sa lying on the hospital bed with every tube imaginable coming out of his body, I realized then just how serious his condition really was. I asked her on the way home how she could be so positive when the image of little Sa that I witnessed just broke my heart. Shyla smiled and said that she and the medical staff knew he was a fighter who continued to improve daily. Exercising faith was more desirable and helpful than being pessimistic and doubtful.
Pili and Shyla are the epitome of 1 Corinthians 13:7, wherein they "beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things."
Even when Pili broke his leg while playing basketball, two weeks after Sa had been admitted to the hospital, he jokingly asked the Lord, "Really Lord? You've got to be kidding." He wasn't angry, just bewildered as to why his afflictions seemed to be so many at this time. Four weeks later, Pili's question was answered when little Sa passed away to return to our Heavenly Father. This young father was able to endure it well because of his firm testimony in the Plan of Salvation and the knowledge of where his son was. Knowing that fact gave him a calming peace which permeated the entire chapel as he spoke. He was also at peace with his son's passing as a result of his daily visits and pondering the possibility of Sa not recovering from his illness. Had he not broken his leg, he would not have spent his days with Sa, but instead continuing to work to provide for his family. The Lord knew he needed this time with his son and made it possible for him not to have any regrets later.
Just like the pioneers who struggled and toiled across the plains, the Lafaeles chose not to mourn or think their lot was hard, but instead they latched onto their faith and the power of priesthood blessings to allow them to endure their trial well so they could boldly testify at their son's funeral that "all is well, all is well" (see LDS Hymn #30, 'Come, Come, Ye Saints').

My paper was due Monday. Todd had really loused it up. I had to trash the whole thing, all seven pages of it. Luckily, I stumbled across something about Jesse and Frank James, so I chose them for my new analysis. I typed my paper in a hurry on Monday morning, just before my class. It was pretty much a rough draft.

I thought my paper would be a “piece o’ cake.” Todd’s the reason I only got a C on the paper. Thanks a lot, Todd. But I guess sometimes it’s not such a bad thing to be wrong.

As I entered the chapel, I quickly realized that no one was wearing a T-shirt and cargo pants like I was. When my soon-to-be-missionary friend had invited me to hear him speak, I assumed he was talking about a party or an open house, not a sacrament service. The meeting I was observing was unlike any church meeting I’d ever attended, and I had attended quite a few.
A trip to Israel when I was 14 had sparked my interest in religion. Over the next few years, I visited many different churches and heard a variety of pastors and teachers express their views. As passionately as they spoke, I still felt like there were some basic answers I was not hearing, including who Jesus Christ really is.
After high school graduation, I worked with a young man who was a recently returned missionary. One day we began talking about religion, and I was amazed by how much he knew about the Savior. “Where did you learn all that?” I asked. A few days later, he presented me with a copy of Jesus the Christ by Elder James E. Talmage of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. Not long after that, he changed jobs and I didn’t see him again.
I was almost finished reading the book when I heard that an LDS friend of mine was going on a mission. I called him and told him what I was reading. He was the one who had invited me to church on that Sunday when I showed up in a T-shirt.
So, there I was at the meeting, feeling out of place in my casual clothing. As I looked around, I noticed families sitting together. I had not seen many children in other churches. I also noticed that everyone, not just the choir, sang the hymns. Young men passed the sacrament. Regular members spoke instead of a pastor. I liked what I saw.
I began to feel a greater desire than ever to learn about Jesus. I enjoyed my friend’s talk and his excitement about serving as a missionary. Later I told my friend how jealous I was of him because he was going to be a missionary like Paul in the New Testament. I told him how much I would like to do something like that.
He said, “I have a book that will help you prepare, and I want you to have my copy.” It was a book by another Apostle in the Church called A Marvelous Work and a Wonder.
I studied that book along with the Bible. Through this study, I got answers to many questions, as well as a desire to pray. Based on what I’d read about Joseph Smith (see Joseph Smith—History 1:5–19), I felt sure that God would also answer my prayer.
I knelt by my bedside and called out to God with all my heart and soul. I told Him that I was seeking the truth, and then I waited for my heavenly messenger. Nothing happened. I tried again. Still nothing. Finally, I simply asked God if the things I was reading and studying were true.
After my prayer, I began thinking of all I had learned. While reading the two books my LDS friends had given me, I had discovered answers. That felt good. Ever since I went to Israel, I’d wanted to know more about Jesus. Now I did. That felt good, too. Suddenly I realized God was answering my prayer. He loved me enough to send friends and books to tell me about the Restoration of the gospel, and I felt good. How would I feel if the Lord had literally told me the same thing? I would feel the same way. That was my answer.
Full of excitement, I wanted to call my friend, but he was on his mission, so I called his mom instead. I awkwardly explained that I had read the book her son had given me and that I would like to find out how I could join their Church. She was silent for a long time, and then she started to cry. Through her joyful tears she told me how to contact the missionaries.
A few weeks later I called my friend’s mom again. This time it was to invite her and her family to my baptism. Along with the other books I’d read, I had now read the Book of Mormon and gained a testimony of its truthfulness. I invited my own family to attend my baptism as well. My twin brother came into town the night before. He didn’t understand why I wanted to get baptized into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He asked a lot of questions, especially about the Book of Mormon. The only things he’d ever read about the book were false and negative. I stayed up most the night attempting to answer his questions.
The baptism was beautiful. This time I didn’t show up in a T-shirt and cargo pants. This time I was in a white shirt and tie, and I felt totally comfortable and at home. Four months later my twin was still asking questions. I told him that I was happy to talk to him about it but that ultimately he would have to ask God for himself. A few weeks later he came to me and said: “I asked, and now I know the Book of Mormon is true and that Joseph Smith was a prophet. How do I get in touch with the missionaries?”
Imagine my joy a month later when I had the opportunity of baptizing my twin brother. We both served missions; I was called to Chile and my brother to Mexico. Like Paul of old, we are trying to give back a little of what we received.

Comer further highlights how constant haste is a form of violence against our inner selves, drawing from the idea of eliminating hurry from our lives to find healing and union with God. In his book, he tells a story.

The story goes like this: It’s the height of British colonialism. An English traveler lands in Africa, intent on a rapid journey into the jungle. He charters some local porters to carry his supplies. After an exhausting day of travel, all on foot, and a fitful night’s sleep, he gets up to continue the journey. But the porters refuse. Exasperated, he begins to cajole, bribe, plead, but nothing works. They will not move an inch. Naturally, he asks why.

Answer? They are waiting “for their souls to catch up with their bodies.”

Danielle Menlove, a Beehive from Sandy, Utah, has running in her blood. Her parents, both runners, noticed something special when she beat her mother in a race at seven years old. Now she holds four USA national track and cross country titles and numerous records.
Danielle started winning big races when she was just 10 years old. She now holds the USA Track & Field—Utah youth records for the 11–12 age group in the 800m, 1500m, and the 3000m. In the 13–14 age group, Danielle holds the records in the 1500m and 3000m.
Danielle has learned that track involves enduring to the end. And she learned it the hard way. At the USATF National Junior Olympic Track & Field Championships in 2005, she accidentally stopped a lap short. She says, “I was in first place, and I had a 100m lead, but I stopped and started walking off the track.” When an official told her she had a lap to go, Danielle scrambled to rejoin the race. She still took second.
Recalling the event, Danielle says it helped her learn to finish strong. “It was a good thing to happen because I made the mistake once, and I’ll never make it again.”

One of my earliest memories of sacrament meeting occurred when I was probably 3 or 4 years old. As a kid I loved to actively participate in Church meetings as much as I could. This meant that when we were asked to sustain someone in a new calling, I loved to raise my hand when everyone else did. One Sunday, I was not paying attention as members were called and sustained. In fact, as I recall, I was playing on the floor instead of sitting in my seat. On this particular Sunday my family was sitting almost in the very back of the chapel, in the overflow area. The leader who was conducting read out the name of someone who had been called and asked for the sustaining vote. I didn’t realize what was happening until everyone had already lowered their hands. At that point, the leader asked, “Are there any opposed?” I did not know what that word meant, but wanting to participate and feeling disappointed that I missed the first time that hands were raised, I quickly climbed onto my seat, stood as tall as I could, threw my hand as high as I could and shouted, “I do!” While most everyone found it humorous, I could tell from my parents’ reactions that I had done something that I shouldn’t have. I was inexperienced and I lacked understanding. I did not understand how things really were – despite my feeling of confidence that I did. Before I got lost in Little Brush Creek Cave, I had complete confidence that I knew where I was going.

One example of this attitude occurred when Elder Lee was a grandfather and a member of the Quorum of the Twelve. His daughter, Helen, had planned to attend a Relief Society meeting and asked her mother to tend her two little boys. Her mother became ill, so Helen decided to stay at home. In mid-morning her father called from his office and said, “Dear, you plan to go to your meeting, and I will come tend the boys.” Helen protested that she couldn’t take him from his important work to tend babies. He replied, “Why, my dear, who is to say which is the most important work of the Lord—to stay at my desk at the Church Office Building, or to tend two choice little grandsons while their mother goes to her Relief Society meeting?” She attended her meeting.

Remember that those who climb to high places did not always have it easy. We are told that when Abraham Lincoln was a young man, he ran for the legislature in Illinois and was badly “swamped.”
He next entered business, failed, and spent 17 years of his life paying up the debts of a worthless partner. He fell in love with a beautiful young woman, to whom he became engaged, then she died. Entering politics, he ran for congress and was badly defeated. He tried to get an appointment to the U.S. land office but failed. He became a candidate for the U.S. Senate and was badly defeated. Then in 1856 he became a candidate for vice-president and was again defeated. In 1858 he was defeated by Douglas, but in the face of all this defeat and failure, he eventually achieved the highest success attainable in life and undying fame to the end of time. This was the Abraham Lincoln who was president of the United States. This was the Abraham Lincoln about whom numerous books have been written. This was the Abraham Lincoln who carved his own success out of the mountains of difficulty.

Brigham Young began to develop rapidly toward his own foreordained role as a prophet the night in October 1832 when he first met Joseph and began to “subject [himself] to his counsel.” He and Heber C. Kimball were invited to stay for supper and for a regular, informal gathering of the Church leaders in Kirtland. There they “conversed together upon the things of the kingdom.” Brigham was asked to give the closing prayer, during which he was moved to speak in tongues. This was a spiritual gift the Prophet had not witnessed before; in fact, he had strongly warned against certain over-enthusiastic and unedifying cases of such expression at frontier camp meetings he had heard about, and the brethren thought he would condemn this manifestation. But when they asked him about it after Brigham left, he said, “No, it is of God, and the time will come when Brigham Young will preside over this Church.”8

While serving my mission in Scotland, I felt overwhelmed nearly all the time. I took the teaching of “exact obedience” to a whole new level and believed that I needed to be 110 percent perfect in my missionary efforts every single day. I thought if I didn’t reach these (unrealistically) high expectations, I would be a failure.
However, I noticed that my companions, other missionaries, and many members all seemed so much happier than I was. I didn’t understand what I was missing! Why were they happy and self-compassionate, and why was I miserable?
At one point, I was praying for forgiveness so often that I lost my focus on Christ in my missionary work entirely. My thoughts were constantly telling me I wasn’t worthy and I wasn’t loved.
One day when I was particularly desperate for help, I came across a devotional given by Elder Dale G. Renlund of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. He spoke about feeling God’s love and how a dysfunction in our “spiritual receptors” can make it hard to feel that perfect love.
He said: “What do you do if you do not feel the love of Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ? I know with certainty that the problem is not with Their love. The problem is with your receptors for Their love. If you have dysfunction of your receptors for God’s love, you can lose your way and succumb to dangers such as hopelessness, helplessness, and loneliness.”
His words struck something in my heart.
If Heavenly Father loved me as much as Elder Renlund taught, I didn’t think He would want me to feel anxious and ashamed all the time. So I talked to my mission president, and we both agreed I needed to find some help.
With help from a therapist, we figured out that I wasn’t just struggling with perfectionism but also with scrupulosity, a form of obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) that causes one to obsess over the fear of behaving immorally or against one’s religious beliefs.
I wasn’t feeling the joy of the gospel or the love of God, because I was giving myself impossible expectations. Mortality is about being imperfect and then learning to come unto Christ, who will perfect and redeem us.
When I finished my mission, I also received help and guidance from my loving bishop. He helped me understand these truths:
Repentance is a joy and a gift.
Living the gospel shouldn’t be bringing us misery.
Living the gospel is beautiful, joyful, and wonderful.
Following Jesus Christ helps us steadily learn and improve, giving us hope and purpose in our lives.
Understanding these truths has helped me understand God’s love and mercy better and find joy in the gospel.
I used to think life would be easier if I didn’t live the gospel. I was constantly feeling anxious and disappointed when I didn’t measure up to my expectations for myself. But now I know that we live the gospel because we are all imperfect and need the Savior’s help to become better.
As Elder Patrick Kearon of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles beautifully testified:
“If you are prone to worry that you will never measure up, or that the loving reach of Christ’s infinite Atonement mercifully covers everyone else but not you, then you misunderstand. Infinite means infinite. Infinite covers you and those you love.
“Are there things we need to do, commandments to keep, aspects of our natures to change? Yes. But with His grace, those are within our reach, not beyond our grasp. Our Father’s beautiful plan is designed to bring you home, not to keep you out.”
I still struggle with scrupulosity, but I’m striving to heal and to realize what the gift of the Savior’s Atonement means for my life. I know He offers me grace and can magnify all my efforts.
Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ are not merciless. They love us perfectly. And if we ever lose sight of that truth and get lost in feelings of shame or inadequacy, we can refocus on the truth that They are here to lift us and support us on our journey home, not to make that journey impossible.
I hope you know how much They love you.

President Hinckley went on to discuss with the youth the importance of staying away from pornography and sexual sin. About pornography he warned, “Stay away from it. It is exciting, but it will destroy you. It will warp your senses. It will build within you an appetite that you will do anything to appease.”
Later in his address President Hinckley spoke of sexual sin. “I plead with you to be careful, to stand safely back from the cliff of sin over which it is so easy to fall. … Keep yourselves clean from the dark and disappointing evil of sexual transgression.”
One young man was very impressed with the prophet’s counsel to avoid such sins. The inspiring words of the prophet helped him begin the process of repentance.
“My life has been full of sexual transgression and pornography,” he wrote. “So when I saw the fireside of the B’s, I felt the prophet was talking right to me. I needed to change my life; it was not going the way it should. This counsel, and my willingness to change and come unto the Lord, was very great. So I did.”

Let me share with you the account of a lifelong friend, now departed from mortality. His name was Leonard. He was not a member of the Church, although his wife and children were. His wife served as a Primary president; his son served an honorable mission. His daughter and his son married companions in solemn ceremonies and had families of their own.

Everyone who knew Leonard liked him, as did I. He supported his wife and children in their Church assignments. He attended many Church-sponsored events with them. He lived a good and a clean life, even a life of service and kindness. His family, and indeed many others, wondered why Leonard had gone through mortality without the blessings the gospel brings to its members.

In Leonard’s advanced years, his health declined. Eventually he was hospitalized, and life was ebbing away. In what turned out to be my last conversation with Leonard, he said, “Tom, I’ve known you since you were a boy. I feel persuaded to explain to you why I have never joined the Church.” He then related an experience of his parents which took place many, many years before. Reluctantly, the family had reached a point where they felt it was necessary to sell their farm, and an offer had been received. Then a neighboring farmer asked that the farm be sold to him instead—although at a lesser price—adding, “We’ve been such close friends. This way, if I own the property, I’ll be able to watch over it.” At length Leonard’s parents agreed, and the farm was sold. The buyer—even the neighbor—held a responsible position in the Church, and the trust this implied helped to persuade the family to sell to him, even though they did not realize as much money from the sale as they would have if they had sold to the first interested buyer. Not long after the sale was made, the neighbor sold both his own farm and the farm acquired from Leonard’s family in a combined parcel which maximized the value and hence the selling price. The long-asked question of why Leonard had never joined the Church had been answered. He always felt that his family had been deceived by the neighbor.

He confided to me following our conversation that he felt a great burden had at last been lifted as he prepared to meet his Maker. The tragedy is that a hidden wedge had kept Leonard from soaring to greater heights.

There was once a situation where some members in our ward were misjudging my friend and me. He and I were together a lot, serving and participating in activities, and rumors began that we were dating and doing something wrong.
The rumors also claimed that my family was being rude to my friend. Although we knew it wasn’t true, I was upset because he was always treated well in my home. I didn’t want to go to church and see or talk with the people who were spreading the false rumors.
However, I remembered that we go to church because of the gospel of Jesus Christ, not just because of the people there. People sometimes criticize others without knowing what’s really going on, and I knew this moment would pass and that I could forgive them. I shared these thoughts with my friend. By looking to Jesus Christ, we found peace.

Years ago I read a Time magazine article that reported the discovery of a letter, supposedly written by Martin Harris, that conflicted with Joseph Smith’s account of finding the Book of Mormon plates.14
A few members left the Church because of the document.15
Sadly, they left too quickly. Months later experts discovered (and the forger confessed) that the letter was a complete deception.16 You may understandably question what you hear on the news, but you need never doubt the testimony of God’s prophets.

Joseph F. Smith was the first president of the Church to visit Europe. When John Ruothoff, a young boy with failing eyesight, discovered that President Smith would be visiting in Holland, he said to his mother, “The Prophet has the most power of any missionary on earth. If you will take me with you to the meeting and he will look into my eyes, I believe they will be healed.”
After the meeting President Smith lifted John’s bandages, looked into his eyes, blessed him, and promised him that he would see again. Later at home when the bandages were removed the boy cried out, “Mama, my eyes are well; I cannot feel any more pain. I can see fine now, and far too.”

This principle of preparing the ground by showing sincere love is further illustrated by a miracle that occurred in our family in recent years.

My wife has a twin sister, Michelle. She has a good, generous heart, yet for many years, her goodness was somewhat overshadowed by ill feelings toward the family and toward the gospel and some tragic choices that led to addiction and suffering. Try as we might, Michelle was not always willing to receive our attempts to connect and we sometimes felt that our prayers for a better relationship were in vain.

At one point, my teenage daughter, Ella, decided that she wanted a relationship with her Aunt Michelle. She determined to write her once a month, no matter the response. After four months of unanswered letters, my wife received a surprising text from Michelle that went something like this: “I just checked my mail, and I found Ella’s letters. Tell her I’m in tears right now and that this is the first time since I can remember that I’ve felt like an aunt and like I am a true part of a family. I’ll write her as soon as I can.”

We had prayed and fasted for many years to know how to help Michelle, and the simple, no-strings-attached nature of a young woman’s letters were a catalyst that set in motion one of the most beautiful seasons of love and connection with Michelle and her son that we’ve ever experienced. She has since voluntarily and heroically left her addictions behind, and we now have daily conversations that are laced with gratitude, love, light, and truth. Michelle also started classes with Pathway this last week.

I quickly marked the verses. I loved this story and continued to think about it. As a matter of fact, I hoped for a similar manifestation myself. I was doing family history research and had experienced many difficulties gathering information. Most of my relatives did not remember much about our ancestors, and many of the records documenting baptisms, marriages, and deaths had been destroyed during bombings of the Philippines in World War II.
I persevered, expecting some kind of great and dramatic event. I had heard many accounts of people doing family history and temple work receiving divine assistance through dreams or other sacred experiences and finding the information they sought.
But as I continued to search old records and visit graveyards, I had no dramatic experiences. No dreams came. I had no visits from the spirit world. And yet the way opened before me. One time at the local Family History Center, another patron left some microfilm out. When I examined it, I discovered it contained the 19th-century census records of my hometown. I was thrilled to discover that the records included lists of entire families, their birth and death dates, and their occupations.
Using the microfilm, I spent weeks reconstructing family relationships. Eventually I identified six generations on my father’s side. I was jubilant and showed my work to one of my relatives. “You are half my age,” she cried in astonishment, “and you know more about my grandfather than I do!”
But another challenge remained, for I had little information on my mother’s lineage. Her parents live on an island far to the south of us, many kilometers away, and I didn’t have the money to go there.
Then one day my mother surprised me by announcing, “Your grandfather wants all of us to come home for a reunion.”
“When?” I asked happily.
“As soon as possible.”
Fortunately, we were able to get the money to pay for our plane tickets. At the reunion I was able to obtain a great deal of information from my mother’s relatives, and I promptly submitted the names of 86 ancestors to the Manila Philippines Temple. My collection of names was modest compared to some, but I was very happy about it.
One radiant February morning I went to the Manila temple and was baptized for one ancestor after another. As I stood in the baptismal font, I kept hoping to see my ancestors or hear their voices. I returned to the temple on succeeding days to complete the work, still expecting to have some kind of spectacular experience. I also thought I might have a dream about my ancestors. Or perhaps the hearts of my nonmember relatives would be softened and they would want to know more about my research. Perhaps they would even be converted.
But none of these things happened. The days continued to go by in an ordinary fashion. I was disturbed and asked myself, Where are the blessings of the Lord? Where are the blessings He has promised those who help redeem the dead?
I went to the temple again a few nights later to attend an endowment session. While there, I gazed into the calm waters of the baptismal font. All of a sudden I realized something I had overlooked: Wasn’t the privilege of being baptized for my ancestors a wonderful blessing in itself? I thought of all the valuable records I had discovered during my research. Hadn’t the Lord prepared my way? Hadn’t I been able to accomplish more than I thought I could?
Then the scripture from the Old Testament flashed into my mind. The eyes of Elisha’s servant were opened, and he saw the army of the Lord. The Lord opened my eyes and gave me an understanding of the blessings I had received. As I left the temple that night, I felt nothing but gratitude.
I have learned that when we open our spiritual eyes, we see that blessings need not be dramatic; we see and are grateful for the simple manifestations of the Lord’s love in our lives. At times I still tend to forget this, but then I, too, offer the prayer of Elisha, “Lord, open my eyes that I may see.”