Gospel Story Finder

While we were in the sacred city of Jerusalem, we also had the unique blessing of being able to visit the tomb of the Saviour. As Gaby and I were making our way to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, for some reason I cannot remember, I was overwhelmed with anxiety. Looking back, I wouldn’t doubt that I was hungry and being bumped by thousands of people didn’t help.
In the queue to enter the tomb, it was uncomfortably warm. There was a lot of talk in many different languages, which now brings me joy—Christ truly is the Saviour of the world—but caused sensory overload at the time.
With all the people around and the heat stressing me out, I went onto my phone and tried to ignore everyone.
When Gaby and I were finally at the front of the line and walked into the tomb, all anxiety, discomfort and stress fled.
An almighty, miraculous peace, comfort and joy replaced them. In that location so sacred, so holy, I experienced yet another undeniable manifestation of the love of the Lord and I knew Jesus Christ was my personal Saviour.
He died for me personally. He died for all of us. He suffered, and bled, and died for us all. Three days later, scriptures tell us, He walked out of that tomb.
I have seen the tomb of the Lord Jesus Christ, and I testify that it is empty. Along with the angels who spoke to Mary Magdalene, I say this: “He is risen” (Matthew 28:6).

The court case was troubling for Portuguese labor judge Artur Manuel Ventura de Carvalho. An employer was being prosecuted because he did not pay the legal adult wage to a young man working for him.
But the young man, though in his late twenties, was mentally handicapped and he could not do as much work as the other employees. The employer would have to let the young man go if he had to pay him more, although he was sympathetic to the young man’s responsibility in supporting his mother.
The decision required by federal laws seemed plain. “My difficulty was that I felt something was not right in this case,” says soft-spoken Brother Carvalho. “I prayed, and suddenly the answer came.” He declared that although the young man was legally of age to receive the required minimum wage, his mental age and work capacity did not justify the adult pay level. Therefore, the employer did not have to meet the demands of the law. The young man kept his job, and the grateful employer even raised his wage a bit to help the man better support his mother.
Brother Carvalho has come to accept the fact that if he is in tune with the Spirit, he may receive direction in his thinking.
“When I have a difficult decision, I pray to the Lord, and I receive help in a special way,” he says.
There was, for example, one very complex legal case in which “I had no idea how to decide. I knew the law, but I was confused,” he recalls. He prayed about it, and one particular point of law which clarified the matter stood out in his mind. Later, an attorney mentioned that it seemed remarkable the judge had so clearly seen that point. But, Brother Carvalho says, “I am absolutely certain that I received guidance from the Lord.”

My sister and I have had a complicated relationship for the past 40 years. Recently, I started to pray for her welfare and happiness. I also decided to put her name down on the prayer roll of the temple for eight weeks. During this period, I felt impressed to invite her to spend some time with me during the Christmas holidays (2019). This was a difficult thing for me because we have barely spent more than an hour together during the past ten years. On the day we decided to meet, I prepared a meal, and we agreed to watch a Christmas movie together. From the moment she arrived at my home, I could tell she was different. She was happy and bubbly, and we talked like we used to four decades ago. The visit was so enjoyable that I invited her to return the following week, when we again ate a meal together and watched another Christmas movie. Later I scheduled two more visits that were just as successful and enjoyable as the first two.
A few days later, I was reviewing a journal entry from 23 years ago. In that entry, I had recorded some of the words of a priesthood blessing that I had received because I was so upset about the poor relationship that I had with my sister. As I read the terms of this blessing, I was shocked by what Heavenly Father had told me so long ago. This is what he said:
“The Lord loves you very much. You will be as Nephi of old. You will have the wisdom and strength to counsel your family. With time, you will be able to resolve your relationship with family and friends.”
These words immediately reminded me of a talk given by Henry B Eyring called, A Law of Increasing Returns. In this talk, President Eyring said:
“The simple fact is that there is a God who wants us to have faith in him. He knows that to strengthen faith, we must use it [even with our family members]. And so, he gives us the chance to use it by letting some of the spiritual rewards we want most be delayed. Instead of first effort yielding returns, with a steady decline, it’s the reverse. First efforts, and even second efforts, seem to yield little. And then the rewards begin, perhaps much later, to grow and grow.”1
That is how I felt as I thought about how my relationship with my sister has improved dramatically over the past two weeks. It is no accident that this improvement in our relationship had happened when I was praying for my sister, and I had placed her name on the temple prayer roll.

When their fathers said the pond was frozen solid enough to skate on, the boys began clearing the snow to make a skating rink. On Saturday, they’d be able to play hockey.
By the time Jeremy arrived after his paper route, he expected to see the boys racing up the ice, maneuvering the puck, aiming at the net. But they were just standing around.
“Sorry I’m late,” Jeremy said, skating up to them.
“There’s a problem,” Bill said, “and your brother is part of it! I told those squirts to beat it, but they’re still here!’
Jeremy looked at his little brother, Ryan, and his friends. They were standing on the ice, looking scared. “What’s the problem?” Jeremy asked.
“They think they’re going to skate on the part we cleaned off!” Bill declared angrily.
Jeremy knew that getting mad wouldn’t solve anything. He tried to keep his voice calm as he said, “The pond’s big enough for all of us. We’re only practicing. We don’t have a a real arena. They can stay out of our way.”
“No way!” Bill snapped. “We cleaned it off, we use it!” He yelled at the younger boys again, ordering them to leave.
Jeremy could see a confrontation coming. He had seen Bill in action in the schoolyard too often. Most of the time even the older boys backed off, but pushing smaller boys around was too much.
The younger children shuffled around uncomfortably, not knowing what to do. “Skate up and down the edge, boys, and stay away from us, OK?” Jeremy suggested.
“No, they won’t!” Bill took a menacing step toward them, but Jeremy hurried between.
He tried to speak quietly. “I came here to skate, not fight. But if my brother and his friends have to go, then I’m going too.”
He whirled away to the bank, and his friends followed. “Way to go, Jeremy. Let Bill skate by himself,” they all agreed.
Ryan looked upset. “No, we’ll go. We’re just playing. You guys are practicing.”
“That’s not the point,” Jeremy said. “Bill can’t always push people around. Let’s leave him to cool off by himself.”
As they left, Jeremy had an idea. “Say, why don’t we clean off that corner of the pond? The younger boys can have a small rink of their own.” The others agreed and raced home for brooms and shovels. Soon the snow was cleared off the ice.
“How about a hockey school?” Jeremy asked. “We’ll teach you to shoot.”
“That would be great, but we don’t have sticks and pads,” Ryan said.
“That’s OK,” an older boy said. “There are some old sticks in our basement. We could shorten them.”
“My dad says they used to wrap magazines around their legs with rubber bands to make pads,” another said.
“Right! Let’s go, guys!”
After lunch they met at the pond. They fitted the young boys with makeshift pads, hand-me-down gloves, and cut-off sticks. Everybody laughed at the getups.
The younger boys soon learned how to change direction quickly on their skates and use their sticks to keep possession of the puck. Every once in a while, Jeremy glanced back at Bill skating aimlessly on the ice, watching the fun. Then, as Jeremy watched the boys skate, he heard a voice from behind.
“I was a jerk this morning.” Bill stood there, looking embarrassed. “I mean—I’m trying to say I’m sorry, guys. OK with you if I help too?”
The group gave each other questioning looks, then one by one they nodded their approval.
“You have to mean you’re sorry,” Jeremy said. “End of bullying. Period.”
“You’ve got it!” Bill declared. He skated back across the ice, then returned carrying a load of assorted hockey equipment. “I dug around in our attic while you guys were away, and found this stuff. You’re welcome to it.”
Pulling on proper pads and gloves, the small boys lost their fear of Bill and followed his coaching tips until the sun began to sink and the air grew chilly. But the unexpected friendship between the different age groups was warm enough to melt the ice under their skates.
As they parted, Jeremy called out, “Look out, National Hockey League—here’s your future competition!”
“I wish winter would last forever!” Ryan remarked as they said good-bye, and a chorus of voices chimed in, “Right on!”

William W. Phelps was one of the Prophet Joseph Smith’s close friends. William was appointed printer for the Church. He moved to Missouri and became a leader in the Church there.
Later, because of some faults he thought he saw in the Prophet Joseph, he became an enemy of the Prophet. He signed a certificate defending the actions of one of the enemies of the Church. Because of William’s and others’ actions, Joseph not only lost a loved and trusted friend, he and other Church leaders were sent to prison!
Two years later, William realized what he had done was wrong. “I am as the prodigal son … ,” he wrote to the Prophet Joseph. “I know my situation, you know it, and God knows it, and I want to be saved if my friends will help me. … I have done wrong and I am sorry.” He asked to be received again as a member of the Church.
Joseph answered immediately with love and forgiveness. He wrote: “Believing your confession to be real, and your repentance genuine, I shall be happy once again to give you the right hand of fellowship, and rejoice over the returning prodigal. … ‘Come on, dear brother, since the war is past, / For friends at first, are friends again at last.’” (See History of the Church, 4:141–42, 163–64.)
Joseph forgave his friend, and William became a valiant servant of the Lord once more. William wrote the hymn “Praise to the Man” (Hymns, number 27) about his forgiving friend, the Prophet Joseph.

My mother died when I was fifteen years old. That was twenty years ago. I have experienced all the feelings you have—the anger (at my mom and Heavenly Father), the frustration, the loneliness, the shock. All of these feelings are very real.
When my mom died, we did not talk about it. I think it took me years to work through her death because of that. Hopefully, your family can talk about your feelings and losses. Your mother still exists; that doesn’t end with death. Your mother is simply living somewhere else. She loves you very much.
If your family can’t talk about your mom, you need to find someone who can. Pray to Heavenly Father so that he can help you find a support group, a counselor, or a friend who will listen to you.
Something that helped me very much (although I didn’t realize it until years later) was staying close to the gospel, praying, and keeping the commandments. I allowed myself to be angry at Heavenly Father. I said so in my prayers. I think he probably expected that and allowed me to work through my feelings. In looking back, I can see that Heavenly Father surrounded me with his love. He protected me from myself and my grief.
You will always miss your mom. And finding peace might take a long time. For me, it took years. But I promise you that if you desire it, it will come. When you’re at peace, you feel watched over and warm.
I may never understand why my mother died when she did. But it doesn’t matter anymore. It’s okay. I wish you success.
Stephanie Ransom, 35West Valley City, Utah

He smiled as he reminded his daughter of one of her favorite rides at the amusement park when she was younger. “Remember how much time you used to spend on that large spinning turntable in the fun house? You and all the other children would scramble toward the center and try to hold your places as the huge wheel spun.”
“Oh, yes,” the daughter replied. “Once that wheel started spinning, the kids closest to the edge went sliding off just like that cotton ball, and the ones who managed to hold their position near the center stayed on.”
Her eyes sparkled as she remembered how she would slip and slide on the big wheel. “I tried my best to work my way from the edge toward the center, but it was a real struggle. I had to crawl and apply great traction with my hands to pull myself up toward the center. And if that weren’t hard enough, I always had to be on guard for those who didn’t make it, because they usually grabbed someone else as they spun off and tried to take them with them.”
“In a way, life is like that,” her father explained. “There are struggles, and people going downward sometimes tend to drag those nearby down with them. We, on the other hand, are trying to climb against those forces that are pulling us down.
“Now back to your question. How far you can go as you enjoy the companionship of your friends depends on where you want to go. If you want to go up and onward, you behave one way. If you want to go down and out, you behave another way.”
“I want to go up, Dad,” she replied without hesitation. “I want to reach my goals.”
Since his daughter had recently attended a lecture by a member of a team that tried to conquer Mt. Everest, the father could not resist another comparison. “If that’s the direction you want to go, let’s take some lessons from those expert mountain climbers you met. What do you remember most about their experiences?”
“Oh, I learned a lot, but the most important thing I remember is their advance planning. They anticipated everything that could possibly happen and were prepared with decisions made well in advance in response to whatever they might encounter.
“Their teamwork was really impressive to me too. As they had tremendous hardships to overcome and heights to climb, they linked themselves together with ropes. The ropes were attached to something solid above as they pulled themselves up. Occasionally even the other people to whom they were linked became their anchors. We saw photographs showing one person dangling in midair while being tethered to people he trusted both above and below. Yet he didn’t fall because of his ties to other people!
“They also maintained excellent communications. Even though they might have been temporarily separated, they were always in good communication. It seemed that the closer they were to potential danger, the more they leaned toward the center.”
After hearing his daughter’s report, the father responded, “Did anyone ever ask the question ‘How close to the edge can I come?’”
“No! Quite the contrary. Their emphasis always seemed to be ‘How close to the center can I stay!’” Then, with a look of enlightenment, she replied, “Dad, now I am beginning to understand.”
The father continued, “Let’s apply these lessons to your question. One of the most important things you can do as you face the challenging climb of life is to plan in advance. You must know what pitfalls might befall you. No matter what your problem may be, you must decide in advance how you will react—what actions you will take—just like the mountain climbers on Mt. Everest.
“Remember you are part of a team that is pulling for you. You are connected by unseen tethers of love to people who pray and pull for you daily, even though those ties are not as visible as the ropes of the mountain climbers. Your teammates even extend into the world beyond. Your ancestors are concerned for you and supporting you. Relatives, teachers in school and in church, and good friends always try to lift. If you ever have acquaintances who are trying to pull you with them on their downward drift, know that these people are not truly your friends at all. Real friends never pull you down; they always lift!
“Communication in your life is as important to you as it is for mountain climbers. That’s why I think you are so special for wanting to communicate with your father when you have such an important question. Just as receptive is your Heavenly Father, who appreciates your communications with him in prayer.
“Finally, when dangers do come, always look toward the center. Remember, your record player would not produce very good music if it were not for that rod in the center that anchors the record to the spinning disc. If you allow the world in which your activities revolve to be anchored centrally to the iron rod of the gospel, life’s music will be sweet for you.
“On this or any other important question you have, cling to the center. Know what your loved ones would do in a similar circumstance. Think what the Lord would counsel you to do. If you are firmly and securely anchored to the iron rod, which is the word of God, you’ll be safe in your activities. The wiles of your whirling world and the winds of temptation will not spin you off but will find you safely rooted centrally toward your quest for salvation and exaltation.
“God has great blessings in store for you. You will attain the heights that he has placed within your grasp. Ultimately he will reward you through your obedience. Listen to his promise: If you are faithful, you ‘shall inherit thrones, kingdoms, principalities, and powers, dominions, … and a continuation of the seeds forever and ever’ (D&C 132:19). This, my daughter, is what I want for you.”
The lovely daughter thanked her father with a warm hug, grateful for his love and understanding. She now knew that she no longer was really interested in the answer to her question. She didn’t want to know how close to the edge she could go. She was now determined to stay close to the center, where the great rewards of fulfillment in life are found.

When he was a very young boy, my great-grandfather, Benjamin Lillywhite, came from England with his parents after they joined the Church. When they arrived in St. Louis, his father and little sister died of cholera. His mother did not have enough money to buy a wagon to travel the rest of the way to the Salt Lake Valley, but she wanted her son to go to where the Saints were gathering as soon as possible. So she sent six-year-old Benjamin with another family, and under their care, he walked to the valley. I was told that when his shoes wore out along the trail, he wrapped his feet in rags. But in spite of hardships, he made it to the valley.
As a child, I heard this story over and over. I heard of my ancestors’ sacrifices, and I wanted to be like them. I knew Heavenly Father was now depending onme to be as courageous and faithful as they had been.

“One cool summer evening when I was a freshman in college, I had a date with someone I really liked. I didn’t know him well, but I looked up to him a lot.
“When he came to pick me up for the movie, we walked to the theater, since he didn’t have a car. We had a great time getting to know each other better.
“Then the movie started. It was okay for the first ten minutes, but even though it had a PG rating, it started making me uncomfortable. The dialogue became more and more suggestive, and I started to sink lower and lower in my seat.
“And do you know what he did? Even though we’d only been there a short time, he turned to me and said, ‘I really don’t like this movie. Do you mind if we leave?’ He didn’t make a big deal over it, he just suggested we leave. I’ll always remember that date because of his integrity. That’s the kind of man I want to marry.”

For something like seven months, I fell away from activity in the Church.
But then I began to carefully read the Liahona (Spanish) and discovered the counsel of the Brethren to be both powerful and convincing.
Based on my own experience, I invite everyone who is not fully active in the Church to read and study the messages in the magazine and in the scriptures. If they do this with humble hearts, their testimonies will become so strong they will have the desire to return to the Church.
Cristino RodríguezIsla PatrullaUruguay

Today, let me share a discovery that happened because of a sample group of rabbits.
In the 1970s, researchers set up an experiment to examine the effects of diet on heart health. Over several months, they fed a control group of rabbits a high-fat diet and monitored their blood pressure, heart rate, and cholesterol.
As expected, many of the rabbits showed a buildup of fatty deposits on the inside of their arteries. Yet this was not all! Researchers had discovered something that made little sense. Although all of the rabbits had a buildup, one group surprisingly had as much as 60 percent less than the others. It appeared as though they were looking at two different groups of rabbits.
To scientists, results like this can cause lost sleep. How could this be? The rabbits were all the same breed from New Zealand, from a virtually identical gene pool. They each received equal amounts of the same food.
What could this mean?
Did the results invalidate the study? Were there flaws in the experiment design?
The scientists struggled to understand this unexpected outcome!
Eventually, they turned their attention to the research staff. Was it possible that researchers had done something to influence the results? As they pursued this, they discovered that every rabbit with fewer fatty deposits had been under the care of one researcher. She fed the rabbits the same food as everyone else. But, as one scientist reported, “she was an unusually kind and caring individual.” When she fed the rabbits, “she talked to them, cuddled and petted them. … ‘She couldn’t help it. It’s just how she was.’”
She did more than simply give the rabbits food. She gave them love!
At first glance, it seemed unlikely that this could be the reason for the dramatic difference, but the research team could see no other possibility.
So they repeated the experiment—this time tightly controlling for every other variable. When they analyzed the results, the same thing happened! The rabbits under the care of the loving researcher had significantly higher health outcomes.
The scientists published the results of this study in the prestigious journal Science.
Years later the findings of this experiment still seem influential in the medical community. In recent years, Dr. Kelli Harding published a book titled The Rabbit Effect that takes its name from the experiment. Her conclusion: “Take a rabbit with an unhealthy lifestyle. Talk to it. Hold it. Give it affection. … The relationship made a difference. … Ultimately,” she concludes, “what affects our health in the most meaningful ways has as much to do with how we treat one another, how we live, and how we think about what it means to be human.”

Let us conclude where we began: a compassionate caregiver, extending herself in kindness with a nurturing spirit, and an unexpected outcome—healing the hearts of animals over whom she had stewardship. Why? Because it was just how she was!

A few years ago, we decided to bottle peaches for our grandpa for Christmas. We knew that he liked simple gifts and loved peaches. Mom helped us boil the peaches, peel them, and put them in jars. It was so much fun to bottle the peaches and learn something new. On Christmas, we went to our grandpa’s house and were excited to carry in the big box of peaches. He was so happy when he unwrapped the box and saw all of the peaches inside. He told us how proud he was of us for learning how to bottle peaches. Now we give him Christmas peaches every year.

One day at work, I had to leave for a few hours to take care of some important errands for my mother. I went to the office in the morning and told a colleague that I would be absent in the afternoon. During a break she whispered to me, “I can help you with the time clock.”
“No, thanks,” I said.
As I left the office to catch the bus, my friend followed me to the time clock. She said quietly, “Why don’t you clock in for the afternoon period, and then I’ll punch your time card when I go home?”
Before I could utter a word, she added, “Look, our salary is below minimum wage, so it would be OK to do this. It’s just a small amount. Besides, we are not the only ones who do it.”
I began to consider what she had said. She had some good points, and I knew she had good intentions. But this was not what I had been taught in the Church.
Gathering all my strength and resolve, I told her softly, “My friend, the Lord is good, and if He blesses us, we can receive from Him more than that amount.”
She left and was somewhat annoyed with me for rejecting her offer. While I walked to the bus stop, I worried about how small my paycheck would be. I knew we would have to forego buying some food the following month.
As I walked, I remembered the words of one of the hymns: “Be honest in your heart; and God will love and bless you and help to you impart.”1 A phrase from another hymn came to my mind: “Choose the right! And God will bless you evermore.”2
These lines strengthened my decision not to give in to temptation but to trust in the Lord’s promises.
Three years have passed since that incident, and I now have a new job. The Lord has definitely blessed me. It took time, but the promise of the hymns indeed came true, and I can feel that many blessings will continue to come to me as I continue to choose the right. I am grateful for the hymns, which give me courage to hold on to that which is right in the sight of God.

They aren’t great basketball players, but they are determined, I thought as I watched the opposing team run up and down the court.
They were younger, less experienced, and shorter than our basketball team. But they kept on trying, even when it was clear that they didn’t have a chance of winning.
Randy, a boy with sandy-blond hair, played like he didn’t know what the score was. Although he rarely had possession of the ball, he chased it up and down the court as if the whole game depended on him.
When his teammates did pass him the ball, he would carry it four steps, stop, bounce it, and pass it to another player. But the referees didn’t call a penalty, and no one complained. Randy, who is mentally handicapped, was doing his best.
With seconds left on the clock, he got the ball and his teammates yelled for him to shoot. Concentrating so hard that his tongue hung out of his mouth, he shot—and missed. One of our players rebounded the ball, hesitated, and then tossed the ball to Randy.
“Shoot the ball!” our player yelled, and members of both teams joined in the cheer.
The ball went up, hit the rim, and bounced off. Again, Randy was given the ball, and again he missed. Time had run out, but the buzzer didn’t sound, and the referees stayed at half court. Everyone yelled for him to try again. This time the ball arched and swished the net, and the last two points of the game belonged to Randy.
The crowd went wild, and the members of both teams surrounded Randy to congratulate him. He jumped up and down as though he had won the game. And I realized that he had.
And so had every player in that game. They had been true sportsmen: fair and generous. That night no one went home feeling angry or disappointed. There was no bragging or teasing. There were no losers, only winners.

I was at one of my last mission conferences, and as he often did, my mission president shared a message he had received from a missionary. Sometimes the messages were funny, sometimes they were inspiring, and sometimes they proved a point. This message was probably meant to be inspiring, but instead it hit me hard. He shared how much this anonymous missionary appreciated her companion. He shared how much love and care this missionary felt from her companion and what an amazing example her companion was to this missionary. As I listened, I felt my soul stretch in such great longing to be like that companion. I desperately wished that I could be that caring and be that loving and do that much good. And then I felt myself collapse inside when I realized I wasn’t.

That wasn’t me, and it wouldn’t ever be me. There wasn’t even time for me to change, and if there was, I probably wouldn’t be able to anyway.

Later that day, after my companion and I were back in our apartment, she referred to the very part of our mission president’s address that had so thoroughly crushed me and confided that she had written that about me. Those were her words about me. I had been staring into an endless, dark void, wishing desperately to be the kind of person I wanted to be—and failing. But her words flipped on a light, and rather than an endless void, I was in front of a mirror looking at a reflection of myself as I already was. Her words meant so much to me. That she would even think I was half the kind of person she made me out to be in her letter filled me with joy.

The fourth insight coalesced as we moved an old, heavy refrigerator from the basement of an elderly sister Clayton home taught. We had tried to find another ward member to help us but could not. Desperate, we asked Jim, a nonmember neighbor who happily agreed to help. It was a hot, horribly humid summer day, and soon our clothes were soaked with perspiration. When we reached the first turn in the staircase and had balanced the fridge on the landing, Jim said, “So tell me about the Mormon Church.”
Mopping his brow, Clayton responded, “Frankly, this is it.” He then explained how home teaching works and noted how much this sister needed us. We also told him that because graduate students and their families were moving in and out of our area all the time, our family was often helping someone load or unload a rental truck.
Jim was incredulous. “At our church we just listen to the sermon and go home. I have no idea who might need my help. They never ask, and there’s no way for me to offer. Will you ask for my help again when you need an extra pair of hands? I like this kind of thing.” Although Clayton had tried unsuccessfully to engage Jim in discussions about religion in the past, Jim was uninterested. But he was interested in opportunities to help others.
As a result, Jim subsequently accepted our invitation to take the missionary discussions.
Despite seeing much truth and goodness in our Church, Jim decided after the third discussion not to continue his investigation. Even though we know that many who discontinue investigating will later listen and accept the gospel, we were disappointed. But this taught us our fifth valuable lesson about member missionary work—we realized we had succeeded as missionaries. Jim had become a great friend, and we had given him the opportunity to understand the gospel of Jesus Christ more deeply. Whether or not he ever enters the waters of baptism, he has taken a step along the path of his own eternal progression and has made some important correct choices. Most of us fear failure. Once we realized that we succeed as member missionaries when we invite people to learn and accept the truth, much of the fear that kept us from sharing the gospel vanished.

Although I was born into the Church and was active through the age of 15, I wandered from the gospel during young adulthood. During that time, in search of something that could make me happy, I turned to drugs.
I struggled with an ever-increasing addiction, and my life felt like some sort of bad movie I could not turn off. Although I wanted to stop, I found I had hardly any control over my thoughts or actions. It wasn’t until I was serving a prison sentence for a drug-related crime that I found what I had lost. I had a copy of the Book of Mormon and came across Alma 5:7: “Behold, he changed their hearts; yea, he awakened them out of a deep sleep, and they awoke unto God. Behold, they were in the midst of darkness; nevertheless, their souls were illuminated by the light of the everlasting word.”
I knew I was in the midst of darkness, and I wanted to have my heart changed.
It wasn’t that I hadn’t tried changing before. I had participated in various recovery programs. I had tried quitting for myself and for my family. Those things all worked for a little while, but I always slipped. This verse in Alma offered me hope in Jesus Christ—hope that even if I didn’t have the power to change myself (and I knew I didn’t), He could change me.
I remember turning the burden of my addiction over to the Savior. I prayed and admitted to Heavenly Father, “I cannot do this on my own.”
I entered the LDS addiction recovery program, a 12-step class taught by two missionaries, a husband and wife. What they taught in that class saved me. They nurtured the seed of faith that had been planted many years earlier, when as a child I attended church with my mother. The missionaries taught me about repentance and forgiveness. More important, they showed me love and told me I could find even greater love from my Heavenly Father and Savior. I felt “a mighty change wrought in [my] heart” (Alma 5:12), and I found that the happiness I had so long been searching for had been in the gospel all along.
It has been six years since I decided to turn to my Savior. It has been a lot of hard work, but through the strength of the Lord, I have overcome many obstacles.
I never would have imagined the happiness and joy I now have in my life with my wife and children. I hold the Melchizedek Priesthood and have received temple ordinances. I attribute these positive life transformations to Jesus Christ. He is the power to change.
I testify to others who are struggling as I did—and to those who love them—that change is possible and that it’s very real. You need not give up hope. There is a way to return to happiness, and it is through Jesus Christ.

He walked into the seminary classroom somewhat frightened, maybe a little belligerent, certainly not at ease. He came because most of the students in his grade came to seminary, but he came alone. Few spoke to him; no one walked with him. He had almost no friends.
For one so young his life had been a most difficult one. His father had been killed in a drunken brawl. His mother was not interested in sending her children to church, and she was not really interested in sending them to school. She was on state welfare, and much of that money was used to purchase liquor for herself and her boyfriends. There were two other children in the family; all three had different fathers.
Even the most basic material goods were lacking in the home, including adequate food and clothing. The boy had only a sweater to keep him warm in the cold weather. As he walked to school, he would take the sweater off as he approached the building because it had large holes in it and he didn’t want his peers to see. He wore no socks because he had none. His hands were rough and chapped because the house had only cold water and no soap with which to wash. This boy was thin and lacked vitality. He lived in an unkempt area on the far side of town and was uncomfortable when he visited any other section of the community.
The first day of class I invited him to sit on the front row. He did so willingly but not comfortably. I tried to make friends with him, but it was very difficult. He appeared to trust no one.
After school had been in session for several weeks, I asked if he would like to give the prayer. He quickly and emphatically refused. I later learned that he had never heard a prayer until his first day in class. He had never been to church, he had never belonged to the Boy Scouts, he had never held the priesthood. As the days passed there was little change in his willingness to communicate, to smile, or to seek friends.
A month before the Christmas holidays, one young lady requested class time to present a matter of concern. The young man was absent that day, and as she stood before the group her message was simply, “We are not friendly with him, we do not speak with him, we do not walk with him, we do not associate with him. This seems to me to be very wrong. After all, he is important too.” Then she suggested they could and should be friendly to him and help him to understand how important he was—his importance to them and to himself. They all agreed to respond to her recommendations. Then she suggested that they each contribute a small amount of money toward buying him a coat for Christmas. This they also willingly accepted.
One did not have to be told they were succeeding. It was in his eyes, in his walk, and in his smile. It was obvious to everyone that there was a change in his life. He walked a little taller. He was able to look others in the eye and smile as he extended a friendly greeting.
One day there was a note on the teacher’s desk which read, “If you cannot find someone to give the prayer today, I will,” and he signed his name. Strangely enough no one would give the prayer that day, so I called on him. He did not close his eyes. He did not fold his arms. He did not bow his head or do any of the things we normally do in prayer. He simply looked up to the ceiling with his hands by his side and said, “Please, God, help us. Amen.” No one smiled. No one coughed. No one said a word. It was a wonderful prayer to him and to every member of the class.
Two or three days before the Christmas vacation, the young lady who had proposed the plan came to class with a beautifully wrapped Christmas package and again requested class time. She stood and thanked each of the students for their kindness and their willingness to respond to her earlier suggestions. Then she spoke for just a moment about the value of individuals regardless of their status in life, their home background, their scholastic abilities, or their popularity. She said that every one is very important. The young man, a bit suspicious at first, suddenly became aware that the young lady was about to involve him in a new experience.
After some moments, she took him by the arm and had him stand by her side. She told him how much they appreciated him and how valuable he was to the class. She said they all appreciated him and were pleased he was their friend. By now he had tears in his eyes, but so did the teacher and most of the class. She then laid the package in his arms, and the tears increased. After a moment or two passed, another young man in the class said, “If you will open the package, you can see what’s in it.”
Slowly, methodically, with great care and a desire not to tear the paper, he opened the package and held up a beautiful jacket. He continued to display his emotions and so did the class. After some moments, the same boy said, “If you’ll unzip it you can put it on.” He opened the zipper and slowly put his arms into each sleeve, pulling the jacket around him and displaying a happy smile through the tears. He wore the coat every day until the last week in May.
Something had happened in his life that had never happened before. Someone gave him something, and in that gift was an expression of appreciation and love that he had never known. He later related to some of us that he had only had one Christmas present in 14 years, and that had been an orange.
Needless to say, the young man’s life had changed. He became happy in his schoolwork, he participated in many activities, the other students enjoyed him, and he made many friends. If the story ended there it would be a great story, and the young lady who recognized the worth of a soul would have performed a miracle. But the miracle continued. This young man filled a mission, married in the temple, and is the father of two lovely children. One of the other children, his half sister, has also married in the temple. She and her fine husband are both active in the Church. The third child, a half brother, also filled a mission and has completed his college work. And the mother—oh yes, the mother. She reports that each night she thanks her Heavenly Father for many things, including a young lady who knew the value of her son and was willing to make her feelings known. Secondly, she thanks her Heavenly Father for the great principle of repentance and forgiveness. Third, she thanks him for her membership in the Church, for a loving Savior who helped a family change. Then she thanks him for the privilege of being the secretary in her ward Relief Society and for the love and kindness of all her sisters there.
Yes, he was someone special, and the class was special.
Perhaps the most significant lesson learned from this beautiful, shared experience was a clearer, deeper meaning of those forceful words of the Savior to the Prophet Joseph: “Remember the worth of souls is great in the sight of God” (D&C 18:10).

Just eight weeks ago I was holding a mission district conference on the island of Chiloé, an interior location in the south of Chile that gets few visitors. Imagine the responsibility I felt in addressing these beautiful people when it was pointed out to me that a very elderly man seated near the front of the chapel had set out on foot at five o’clock that morning, walking for four hours to be in his seat by nine o’clock for a meeting that was not scheduled to begin until eleven o’clock. He said he wanted to get a good seat. I looked into his eyes, thought of times in my life when I had been either too casual or too late, and thought of Jesus’s phrase, “I have not found so great faith, no, not in Israel.”

Not long ago I received a telephone call from a remarkable woman named Jean who asked if she and her daughter could visit me.
More than four decades ago, I had baptized Jean. As we discussed the gospel lessons in 1956, Jean’s four-year-old daughter, Sherrie, sat on her mother’s knee. Now, Sherrie is grown with five sons. All have served missions. Jean and Sherrie told me that at least 67 people have joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints because of Jean’s conversion.
I labored for 10 months in Decatur, Illinois, having five companions during that time. We were quite discouraged in 1956 when with all our efforts, only Jean’s baptism resulted. She joined the Church with this remark: “I have been waiting for many years to find the faith that explains how everyone who ever lived, or will live, can have the chance to be saved in God’s kingdom. No other church could do it. I know you have the true Church.”
“How grateful I am,” said her daughter, Sherrie, “that you stopped by and taught my mother the true gospel of Jesus Christ.”
Suddenly, all the doors I knocked on during my 10-month stay in Decatur were worth it.