Gospel Story Finder

On one occasion when I spoke to a number of young ladies, questions were handed to me before the meeting. And one of the questions read something like this: “What happens when you’re going on a date with somebody, and you know”—underlined in red—“and you know there’s going to be trouble?”
Let’s think about that for a minute. The first time I received that question, I said, “Young lady, you’re going to wear a very comfortable pair of shoes, because when he goes by the dormitory and up the canyon road, you’re going to tell him to stop, and you’re going to get out and walk home.”
As I was driving home and feeling very good about myself and being very clever, my wife, as every sweetheart does, leaned over and put her head on my shoulder, and I expected her to tell me how well I’d done that night. But she said, speaking as a woman, “You know they expect more of you than that.”
The second time I got the question, I think I answered it better from a mother’s point of view, from a woman’s point of view, when I said, “You aren’t going to go on that date.”

When I was a little older, I went with my dad on a business trip for his manufacturing company. We were to meet with a purchasing (buying) agent from a large company. My dad had always wanted to do business with them, but he had never been offered the opportunity.
When we met with the agent, he told us that we could have the project they were offering—if we increased the price and secretly sent him the extra money. My father said that we would call him later with our decision, and we left.
“What do you think we should do?” Dad asked me. He pointed out how much this project could benefit our company. He said that we could give more people jobs and accomplish much good.
Then he taught me something I have never forgotten. He said that if we were to be dishonest in even this one business dealing, we could seriously damage a reputation for honesty that took years to build. He turned the offer down. I am happy that he showed the courage to be honest at all times, even when the temptation was great.

Lucy Mack Smith, the Prophet’s mother, was born in New Hampshire. When Lucy was still in her teens, her sister Lovina died, which caused Lucy great grief. Her brother Stephen came for a visit and asked their father if Lucy could come to the town of Tunbridge, Vermont, and stay with his family for a while. They thought it would help Lucy recover from the grief over her beloved sister.
While visiting in Tunbridge, Lucy met a young man named Joseph Smith and married him. The marriage took place on 24 January 1796. Lucy was 20 years old and Joseph was 24 at the time. Together they would be the parents of Joseph Smith Jr., the man destined to restore the gospel of Jesus Christ, the very truth Lucy had been searching for most of her life.
The young couple, Lucy and Joseph Sr., had a small farm and ran the country store (illustrated above) in Tunbridge, a store that, although repaired and expanded, is still there today. While the Smiths lived in Tunbridge, the oldest children, Alvin and Hyrum, were born. The young family moved to a farm owned by Lucy’s father, outside Sharon, Vermont. The small cabin they built on that property sat on the boundary line between the towns of Sharon and South Royalton. The day after his son Joseph was born on 23 December 1805, Joseph Sr. walked into town and registered his birth in the town of Sharon. (See Lucy Mack Smith, History of Joseph Smith, ed. Preston Nibley [1958].) (Illustrated by Brian Call.)

Christmas in Paris was incredible, and it was even better because I was spending it as a missionary—a representative of the One whose birth we were celebrating. My companion and I prepared a special Christmas message, certain that people would throw open their doors and welcome us in to talk of Christ.
Imagine our disappointment when in reality very few doors opened. And of those few people who opened their doors, not one could spare a minute to hear our message, though a few offered us chocolates. One woman even shouted through her still-closed door: “Jesus Christ? He’s dead!”
Those words hurt. And I longed to bear testimony to her—or anyone who would listen—that He lives still and loves us all. But listeners were hard to find.
Apparently ours wasn’t the only companionship struggling to find opportunities to teach. Our zone leaders called one day with an interesting idea: since we couldn’t compete with the busyness of the season, we might as well join it. So two days before Christmas, about 20 missionaries gathered in downtown Paris to sing carols to the crowds bustling past.
We arranged ourselves on steps not far from one of the busiest metro hubs and shopping districts of the city, Châtelet-Les Halles. Once settled, we launched into song. I’m sure we startled a few people as we started out, but what we lacked in musical abilities we made up for in enthusiasm. Many people looked at us suspiciously, as if they were wondering what we were selling. But the longer we sang, the more the hurried shoppers seemed to accept and appreciate our presence.
I watched as people paused and listened to us, even if it was just for a moment. A few even tried to hand us money and seemed astounded when we shook our heads in refusal. It was fun to see their reactions, but still, I wanted more. I wanted to testify.
Then a woman stopped abruptly like she’d run into a wall. She just stood there listening to us. As her eyes met mine, I put all the testimony I could into the words we sang. It was like a lightbulb flashed behind her eyes—as if she suddenly remembered something she’d forgotten—and the stress of the day drained from her face.
When the song ended, I smiled at her and she smiled back. Then she turned and moved on, her pace slower and her shoulders relaxed. For her, at least, we’d made a difference.
That experience was one of few opportunities I had to testify of Christ that Christmas season. But I’d learned an important truth: a testimony can be borne in more than one way. A song and a smile can be enough to touch a heart.

I remember when I was serving as a branch president and was working on our annual tithing report. It was a beautiful winter day, and my wife was waiting to go for a walk with me. I was used to doing finances as a government officer, so this was no big task for me. But every time I tried to balance the figures, they did not add up right. I kept trying and trying, but nothing worked, and I was getting frustrated. I asked Heavenly Father to help.
After I got up from my knees, I couldn’t see that anything had changed. But I felt prompted to review a specific portion of the donation receipt file again. In those days the receipts were glued together in pads, and this time I discovered that two receipts had stuck together and looked like one receipt. The problem was solved.

Danna looked out the window. She could see Papi coming home from work. He was later than usual.
“Is something wrong, Papi?” Danna asked when Papi came inside the house. He looked tired and sad.
“Well, I had a hard day at work,” Papi said. “And now I’m late for an important meeting at the church.”
“May I help you?” Danna asked. She was worried about Papi.
“Could you please ask Mami if she can make me some food to eat in the car?” Papi asked. “I need to hurry and change into my church clothes.”
Danna ran to tell Mami. She was already in the kitchen making a sandwich.
“Is that for Papi?” Danna asked. “He said he’s late.”
“Yes, it’s for Papi,” Mami said. She put an apple and some juice next to the sandwich.
“Papi is sad, and I don’t know what’s wrong. Do you know?” Danna asked.
Mami sighed. “Papi has lots of things to do. His back has been hurting lately too.”
“I want to do something to help him,” Danna said.
“What if you said a prayer? You can ask Heavenly Father to help him feel better,” Mami said.
Danna went to her room. “Dear Heavenly Father,” she prayed, “please help Papi. And please help me know how I can help him. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”
After her prayer, Danna grabbed a piece of paper. She had an idea!
Dear Papi, she wrote. Thank you for everything. Thank you for doing your calling even though you come home tired sometimes. You are a good example for me. You are a child of God, and He loves you! With love, Danna.
Danna left the letter in the kitchen by Papi’s food. Then she walked outside without making a noise.
Danna was playing with her little sisters when Papi came out a few minutes later. He had a big smile on his face. “Thank you for the letter, Danna,” he said. He gave her a hug and a kiss. “You helped me feel Heavenly Father’s love.”
After Papi left for his meeting, Mami asked what had happened. Danna told her about the letter. Mami smiled and gave Danna a big hug.
“Thank you, Danna. With that little note, you ministered to Papi.”
Danna hugged Mami tight. She was grateful Heavenly Father had answered her prayer. It felt good to help Papi like Jesus would.

In 1982, my wife and I had talked about how blessed we had been as a family. We knew several others who had gone through adversity, and wondered when our day would come. It came at 6:00pm on December 28th, 3 days after Christmas. It was a life-changing wake-up call. Our oldest son, Brian, who was a deacon at the time, was playing on the snow machine we had purchased for Christmas. He had gone on his last ride, taking his cousin along. It was getting dark. He was killed instantly as they hit a sprinkler line on wheels, which was not visible because of its height and its silver color against the snowy field. The impact knocked Brian off the machine and broke his neck. His cousin was not injured. Every fast Sunday, Brian, had been the first one to bear his testimony and express how much he wanted to go on a mission. We envisioned he would receive a call like most young men at the age of 19. Our lives were changed! Our hearts were broken! Our spirits were more contrite! Our empathy for others was more pure! The following month, on the 26th of January, my wife and I went to the temple to do his work. I felt his presence with me as I was ordained to the Melchizedek Priesthood and received the endowment for him. It was an emotional experience at the veil, and I wept as I felt him quickly leave, and knew he was happy to begin preaching "in the great world of the spirits of the dead."[22]

Not long ago, a dear friend had an impression to visit a woman in her ward. She brushed off the prompting because she hardly knew her—it just didn’t make sense. But since the thought kept coming to her, she decided to act on the prompting. Because she was already feeling uncomfortable about the impending visit, she determined that taking something to the sister would help ease her anxiety. Certainly she couldn’t go empty-handed! So she bought a container of ice cream, and off she went to begin what she worried might be an awkward visit.
She knocked on the woman’s door, and shortly the sister answered. My friend handed her the ice cream in a brown paper bag, and the conversation began. It didn’t take long for my friend to realize why the visit was needed. As they sat together on the front porch, the woman unveiled a host of challenges she was facing. After an hour of talking in the warm summer weather, my friend noticed the ice cream melting through the brown paper bag.
She exclaimed, “I am so sorry that your ice cream melted!”
The woman sweetly responded, “It’s OK! I’m lactose intolerant!”

My best friend had gone to church with me the past two weeks. But when I invited him again, he said he would not be going with me. He wanted to enjoy the rest of the weekend by sleeping in and going out to have some fun. I accepted his reply, but inwardly I was saddened because I really wanted him to come and feel the Spirit and learn from God. When I got home, I went to my room and prayed, telling Heavenly Father of my sadness and asking for His comfort and guidance.
After finishing my prayer, I went to the kitchen to wash dishes. My father asked whether my friend would be going to church with me again the next day. When I told him what my friend had said, my father could tell that I was concerned and sad. All he said was, “You did your part. People have their agency. You planted a seed.” My father’s words of faith brought peace to my heart.
In preparation for Sunday School, I read Alma 30–32. In chapter 31, Alma prays to the Lord with all his heart for his brethren the Zoramites, who were rejecting the Lord’s ways and beginning to fall into error. As I read his words, the Spirit touched me, and I was inspired to pray as well.
I knelt and offered a prayer similar to Alma’s for my best friend. Like Alma, I told Heavenly Father that “[his soul is] precious, and [he is my brother]; therefore, give unto [me], O Lord, power and wisdom that [I] may bring [him, my brother], again unto thee” (Alma 31:35).
The next day I got ready for church, knowing that my friend would not be going with me. Nevertheless, I had peace in my heart because I, like Alma, had prayed in faith. As I set out for church, I received a call from my friend. He asked if I had already left the house and if I could stop by and pick him up. We had a wonderful meeting that Sunday, and I know that the Spirit testified of the truth to him.
I know that my friend was not the only one blessed on that day because of the Book of Mormon and the prayer of faith. My own testimony of the Lord and this book was strengthened, and that testimony led me to serve a mission and made it possible for me to testify of the truth. I know that the Book of Mormon brings us closer to God, that it teaches us to come unto Christ, and that He will save our soul.

One Saturday afternoon I decided to study the Sunday School lesson for the next day’s class. It was on miracles. “If ever we needed a miracle, it is now,” I thought. My mother was a widow, and our family was going through a difficult time financially.
Ever since my sisters and I were little girls, we had devoted ourselves to the art of horsehair weaving. We would wash the horsehair, color it with dyes, and then weave it hair by hair into shapes such as butterflies, mice, and copihues (the national flower of Chile). It is very fine work and unique to our country. All winter long we would weave, and in the summer we would sell our work at art fairs.
The national economy was depressed that year and greatly affected our business. In the past a major source of our income had been an art fair in Temuco, a tourist town in southern Chile. But that year we had not been invited. We had even called the fair’s organizers, but they refused to give us a booth. We worried about how this loss of income would affect us.
But as I studied the Sunday School lesson that afternoon, my attitude changed completely. First I read Mormon 9:19: “[God] ceaseth not to be God, and is a God of miracles.” This promise lifted my spirits. Then as I read verse 21, I felt even better: “I say unto you that whoso believeth in Christ, doubting nothing, whatsoever he shall ask the Father in the name of Christ it shall be granted him.”
I thought about the miracle my family needed, and I decided to travel the four hours to Temuco to plead our case.
When I arrived at the office of culture, I was discouraged to see many other people there to make the same request and to learn that all these people had been told no. Still I felt the Lord was with me.
When my turn came to speak to the man in charge, he bluntly told me there was only a remote possibility we could have a booth but that a final decision could not be made yet. I explained that a booth would mean bread for my mother during the winter months, but I felt as if I were talking to a wall. Then without thinking, I told him I believed in miracles and left his office.
I called my husband and asked him to fast with me. My mind constantly reverted to the words of the Sunday School lesson: “[God] is a God of miracles.” I needed a miracle—now.
I waited for six hours at the office of culture, feeling greater anguish with each passing minute. Finally I saw craftspeople arriving from every corner of Chile and also from other countries. The fair was starting. With a lump in my throat, I prayed, “Thy will be done.” Suddenly a feeling of peace overcame me, and I decided to talk one more time to the man in charge.
When I entered his office, I could see his attitude had changed. He courteously told me I could have a booth. Once again I told him I believed in miracles.
We made the money we needed at the fair, and I learned for myself that God continues to work miracles today. My faith grows each day because of all He gives me.

And all of the Thordersons know that being different because of their values is more than all right—it’s the way to set a good example for others around you. Kurt said, “While we were growing up, Eric and I were the only LDS students in our high school, and we were in a graduating class of about 650. And then when I went to Wayne State, the only other Latter-day Saints out of 30,000 people were Eric and Dad (he works as an administrator there). It was hard, but it also made me stand up for what I believe.”

Seven or eight A.M. seemed an early hour for yard work; it would have been much more pleasant just to lounge in bed until 11:00. But by 8:00 A.M. Saturday morning, 25 Scouts, priests, Mia Maids, and Laurels from the San Jose Third Ward were on their way to help two elderly people in the ward.
A caravan of automobiles, with rakes and hoes sprawling out the windows, churned up a cloud of highway dust as the group rushed to the home of J. Winter Smith. Brother Smith is a great-grandson of Samuel Smith, brother of the Prophet Joseph. He was for a time in a rest home but was unhappy there. The ward brought him home and promised to take care of him.
Today, his yard would be spruced up. On other occasions, the young people of the area have prepared meals, cleaned and painted his house, and kept Uncle J, as they call him, company.
Stepping momentarily to the door with the help of Bishop John Minick, white-haired Uncle J gave directions to Keith Peddicord, 19, the project supervisor.
“You may as well make my yard pretty. You can’t do anything to make me pretty,” the grateful 96-year-old said.
When the work was done at Brother Smith’s, kids, hoes, and rakes piled into the cars again, racing to the home of the bishop’s elderly nonmember neighbor, a lady with a broken hip. Soon her yard was clean and her lawn well-manicured.

My beloved brothers and sisters, I am grateful for this opportunity that is mine to bear witness of the divinity of this great work and testify to all the world that we are led by a prophet of God. I don’t think I’ve heard any more convincing words of love than those I’ve heard when I’ve been in the temple with President Benson and his dedicated Counselors and he says, “I love you, my Brethren. I love every one of you.” From the depths of his heart, he has proclaimed to us the true significance of love for our fellowmen.
A few years ago while we were in Sydney, Australia, my wife and I received a letter from one of our grandchildren. He wrote: “Dear Grandma and Grandpa, I just turned twelve years of age, and the bishop called me into the office, and he said, ‘I have some questions to ask of you, Bruce. Bruce, you’re twelve years of age now, and so I need to know if you love the Lord.’ I told him I do. ‘Do you say bad words, Bruce?’ ‘No, bishop, I never say bad words.’ ‘Do you love your mother and dad?’ ‘Yes, bishop, I do.’ ‘Do you pay your tithing, Bruce?’ ‘Yes I do, bishop.’
“You know, Grandpa and Grandma, the bishop said that I could receive the Aaronic Priesthood because I was twelve years of age, and he asked me if I knew what the Aaronic Priesthood was. I told him that I knew a little bit and that I could be ordained a deacon. You know, the next week the bishop asked who I would like to be ordained by. I said I would like to be ordained by my dad. So my dad put his hands upon my head, and the bishop stood around and so did my uncles, and my dad conferred the Aaronic Priesthood upon me and ordained me a deacon.
“Now, Grandma and Grandpa, you’re a long way away, but I know that you’re a General Authority and some day you’ll come home. You know, I can’t wait until you come home because I know you’ll sit on the stand, and then Grandpa, I can pass the sacrament to you.”
I think that is the true meaning of love, of families.
I express my love to my devoted sweetheart and eternal companion. I’m grateful for the matriarch that she is in our family. I am grateful for each of our children; I am grateful for their families. I’m grateful to the Lord Jesus Christ for his atoning sacrifice. I’ve come to know him more assuredly as I have sat in council with your great leaders. I testify to you that they are men of God.
I like a scripture that I reflect upon frequently, and I think of it when I think of them, “For they were set to be a light unto the world, and to be the saviors of men.” (D&C 103:9.) I bear witness that those who come into the kingdom will eventually say unto them who have helped them come into the kingdom, “You were a light unto me, and I acknowledge you as literally being a savior to me.”
Another of my favorite scriptures that I would like to share with you is, “Search diligently, pray always, and be believing, and all things shall work together for your good, if ye walk uprightly and remember the covenant wherewith ye have covenanted one with another.” (D&C 90:24.)
Inscribed on the granite walls of the temple here in Salt Lake City is the constellation of Ursa Major, or the Great Bear, commonly known to you as the Big Dipper. If you were to project a line through the bottom two stars opposite the handle, it would point to and bisect the North Star. The mariners and those who have been lost at sea or on land have looked to the North Star to find their bearings.
I bear witness that there is, figuratively speaking, a “North Star” leading us today—a beloved prophet of God. Look to him. He will point you to the way of truth and righteousness. Look to the Savior, for he will give you life eternal.
Again I express my love to you, President Benson, to your dedicated and devoted Counselors, to the General Authorities, and to the body of the Church for your love and sustaining influence. We have come to love you in the Pacific islands; we have come to love you in Europe, where we served; we have come to love the Saints all over the world. My lovely companion and I shall ever remember this association with grateful hearts as we continue to bear witness of the atoning sacrifice of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
I bear witness that the Church has been restored, that Joseph Smith is a prophet of God, as is a living prophet today, President Ezra Taft Benson, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

At times these gifts are associated with spiritual promises the Lord will fulfill. A former stake president from Brazil shared with me this experience:
“A faithful single mother with four teenage children was struggling economically. I asked her, ‘Sister, are your children attending seminary regularly?’ She replied, ‘I have many challenges and live far away from the chapel. It is dangerous.’ At that moment, I felt a strong prompting to counsel and promise her. I said, ‘If you don’t have the money, you need to walk the kilometers with them. Go with them; sit in class with them. If you will do that, you will save your children, and all will marry in the temple.’ I was startled by what I had said but could not deny the powerful inspiration.
“She accepted the counsel and for many years walked with her children to seminary. Her promise has now been fulfilled. All are married in the temple, and her son is serving as bishop in his ward.”

Several years ago I was transferred to Garden Grove, California, by a large grocery firm. During the time my family was in California, we faithfully held our family home evenings. One family home evening lesson suggested that each person in the family take a piece of paper, think of one of the members of the family, write his or her name down, and then write something nice about that member of the family. Each person wrote something nice about every other person, and then we read all of the nice things before the family group.
When I came to my wife’s list, I read several things about her from other members of the family, and then I read what our son Scott had written: “Mom is a miracle maker.” I suppose in that one short sentence Scott described Merlene Featherstone.

As a convert to the Church in Malaysia, a country where there are few Christians, I sometimes found it hard to stand up for my beliefs. One day in December, my boss told me that our company would be having an anniversary party at the end of the year that I was expected to attend. I was worried and didn’t want to go because drinking alcohol at parties is part of our company culture. I also knew that my co-workers would try to force me to drink.
But my manager was firm that I should attend. I wondered how I would be able to overcome this challenge.
Later, a co-worker stopped me and asked, “Why don’t you want to come to the party?” I told him that because of my religious beliefs, I don’t drink alcohol.
He replied angrily, “You should worry about the world you live in now, not another world that may not even exist. Do you want to make money or give it up for your stupid beliefs?” When he asked me this, I felt afraid. I knew if I did not drink at the party, I might lose my job. Then suddenly a scripture came into my mind: “I, even I, am he that comforteth you: who art thou, that thou shouldest be afraid of a man that shall die, and of the son of man which shall be made as grass; and forgettest the Lord thy maker, that hath stretched forth the heavens, and laid the foundations of the earth?” (Isaiah 51:12–13).
Immediately I knew that I should fear God, not my co-workers or my boss. I also realized that my purpose on earth is not to earn money but to grow spiritually. So I answered my co-worker, “I will choose my belief, and you should respect it.”
A few weeks later I quit my job. On my last day of work, I had a good conversation with my co-workers. I explained how The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is different from other churches. I told them about my beliefs and my desire to keep the commandments.
About a week later I got another job that pays better than the job I left. My new job also gives me time to prepare to serve a full-time mission.
This experience not only taught me that keeping the commandments will enable me to return to Heavenly Father someday, but it gave me the confidence that no matter what challenges I face every day, the Lord will prepare the way for me (see 1 Nephi 3:7).

Often the real value of something is not recognized until it is taken from us. To illustrate, consider a man who had lost the use of the priesthood through transgression. Later it was returned to him as part of the restoration of ordinances he obtained through full repentance. After the restoration, I turned to his wife and said, “Would you like a blessing?” She enthusiastically responded. Then I looked at the husband, now capable of using his priesthood, and said, “Would you like to give your wife a blessing?” Words cannot express the profound emotion of such an experience and the bonds of love, trust, and gratitude it created. You shouldn’t have to lose your priesthood to appreciate it more fully.

In September 2011 the Sheffield stake presidency was reorganized, with Bishop Dundon called as the new stake president. A month later a fireside was held for both English and Slovak Saints in which interpreters were present.
While sitting on the stand, President Dundon felt impressed that a Slovak group needed to be formed that would be attached to the Sheffield First Ward but would meet at a facility in the Slovak neighborhood. A suitable meeting place was soon found and rooms rented. On December 11, 2011, the first block of meetings was held in the new facility. Sheffield First Ward leaders optimistically hoped that 50 people would attend. Instead, 84 people—including 63 Slovaks—attended.
Following the reorganization of the Sheffield stake, Robert McEwen was called as bishop of the Sheffield First Ward. Brother Nettleship continued to serve as mission leader. Under both bishops, the ward mission leader and the ward council did a remarkable job of leading the ward to “be with and strengthen” the Slovak Saints (D&C 20:53).
The ward council addressed issues such as how to provide for the new members’ needs, how to help them fully participate in ward activities, how to nurture them in the gospel, and how to overcome language barriers. Council members fasted and prayed for divine help and then worked hard. They visited the new members and participated in teaching appointments with the full-time missionaries. They provided transportation. They ordered Church materials in Slovak. They took the newly baptized members to the temple to perform baptisms for the dead.
Ward leaders also organized a Christmas service project. Ward members donated funds and collected toys, clothes, and other gifts. Large Christmas gift bags that included food for a Christmas dinner were distributed on Christmas Eve to the Slovak Saints and other families within the ward boundaries.
Long-time members and new members understood little of each other’s spoken language, but they all felt the warmth of the language of genuine love. A remarkable feeling of joy, happiness, and excitement enveloped members and investigators.
Over the next year this little group developed into a solid Church unit, with whole families being baptized and uniting with the Church. Fathers were ordained to the Aaronic and Melchizedek Priesthoods, sons were ordained to the Aaronic Priesthood, a Primary with more than 20 children was established, and Young Men and Young Women programs were organized with more than 25 youth attending weekly. The Lord provided a full-time missionary from the Czech Republic who could speak the language and add support to the group. At the same time, these families sent referrals to their homeland.
Why did this happen? Because God has not ceased to be a God of miracles. Because faithful missionaries diligently sought those who were prepared to receive the gospel. Because the stake president and bishops acted in faith and followed the guidance of the Holy Ghost. Because a ward council took responsibility and worked in unity. Because members learned the language of love and acted upon invitations from their leaders, having faith and confidence that God meant what He said: “I am a God of miracles; and I will show unto the world that I am the same yesterday, today, and forever” (2 Nephi 27:23).
The success in Sheffield does not need to be a singular event. It reminds us of the promises given through the prophets and can ignite our faith and our desire to become instruments in the hands of God by inviting people around us to come unto Christ. If we do so, we will place ourselves in a position where the Lord can bless us with opportunities to teach, activate, and nurture others. And we will see evidences that He continues to be a God of miracles.

Years ago, in my childhood home, my parents decided to recarpet the house. The night before the new carpet arrived, my mom asked my brothers to remove furniture and rip out the old carpet in the bedrooms, so that the new carpet could be installed the next morning. Emily, who was 7, was asleep on her bed.
While she soundly slept, my brothers removed all the other furniture from her room and everything from the walls and the closet—then even the carpet. Then they had an idea—an awful idea; they decided, as big brothers around the world sometimes do, to prank their little sister.
They then removed everything from the walls and the closet.
The room was completely bare except for the bed.
Then they wrote a note and tacked it to the wall:
“Emily, we moved. We’ll write in a few days and tell you where we are. Love, your family.” Well, the next morning Emily did not show up for breakfast as usual. My mom sent one of my brothers to get her. Emily was not in her bed, but my brother did hear the sound of crying coming from inside of the closet. There was Emily, curled up and crying her little heart out.
Emily reflected on this experience later:
I wondered, why would they just leave me?
I felt so alone and unloved.
Was I really that unimportant?
In my 7-year-old mind I thought, “No one likes me, not even my own family.” I was crushed. But what would have happened if I just opened the door? What would I have heard? What would I have smelled? I would have known I was not alone.
I would have known I really was loved. The thought never even crossed my mind to do something about my situation. I just gave up and stayed in my closet crying. And yet if I had simply opened the door...

Young Women in the Escalante (Utah) Second Ward know that serving others is a great way to share the gospel. A few years ago, the girls decided to help a less-active member of their ward with some household chores.
““At first I was a little scared to go clean and help and visit at Brother Norman’s house, but now I look forward to it,” says Kate Munson.
Apparently, Brother Norman started looking forward to it also. After the girls had been making regular visits to his house for about a year, Brother Norman accepted an invitation from the girls to attend church. He’s been going ever since. He now teaches a Sunday School class and has been to the temple.
““What started out as a short visit to a person we didn’t know has turned into a wonderful and lasting friendship,” says Brenda Piquet. “Seeing Brother Norman become a temple-worthy priesthood holder has helped me realize the importance of service.”