Gospel Story Finder

My parents have always taught me how truly important paying tithing is and the blessings that come from doing so. I knew it was what I should do, but every time I got money, it seemed so much easier to just keep it all, spend it all, and not pay my tithing. As I got older, I became better at paying tithing but would occasionally forget to pay it here and there. I honestly couldn’t see how it could be such a blessing!
This last year, I was earning money just about every week doing odd jobs, and since I didn’t have a full-time job, it really was a blessing to have money when I needed things. When I was paid, though, it was always in checks or larger bills. I’d say to myself, “Oh, I’ll pay my tithing later when I get some smaller bills.” But as time kept ticking away, I fell into a bad routine. Once I got smaller bills, I’d decide that I needed a drink or something out of a vending machine at school, and I’d spend the smaller bills. Every time I’d get paid, the same thing happened, and I wouldn’t pay my tithing. I would just spend it.
Then my best friend left on his mission, and I started sending him different things. But for a month, I didn’t have any babysitting jobs, cleaning jobs, or anything. One day I went to go get money to send a package to him, but there was no money to be found in my wallet. I was so confused! Where had all my money gone? I thought about all those times I bought drinks, treats, even clothes, and all those things started to add up in my head. I put sending the package on hold.
The next day, I did end up babysitting for one of my neighbors and decided that I would pay my tithing right then and there because I knew I was very behind. I paid it all, the full amount. The next day I went to church, gave that little envelope with my tithing in it to a member of the bishopric, and had this really warm feeling inside. I wasn’t sure why; I had even less money than I had before.
That night I had three people call me to help them that week, whether it was cleaning, babysitting, or little jobs like that. I agreed to them all, and by the end of the week, I had more money than I’d hoped for. I sent the package and still had money to spare.
I realized something that week. Just paying the 10 percent that our Father in Heaven has asked for opened up a door for me to receive blessings. Since then, I’m in the habit of paying my tithing as soon as I get home and putting it in an envelope. As the week goes by, I add to it so that by the time Sunday comes, I count it, pay my tithing, and it’s no longer in my hands.
I can’t even begin to explain the wonderful feeling of knowing you’ve paid a full tithe. I will never go without paying my tithing again now that I know and have gained a true testimony of how important it is to pay not just part of it, but all of it.

But something happened one Saturday when we went cross-country skiing. The atmosphere in the car on our way to the mountains was tense. My dad was yelling at everyone to be quiet, and my mom was telling us to stop bugging her for food because it was only 10:00 A.M. Noelle was being her usual perfect self, cuddling up to Mom and saying, “Those guys are sure awful, huh Mom?” I was giving Laney my worst glare because she told on me just because I pinched her softly.

Once we arrived, things didn’t get much better. Mom started in on her usual threats. “I just paid 50 bucks for us to have a good time. If I hear one more rude remark, we’re leaving and I mean it!”

Finally we started skiing in stubborn silence. Dad was tense because he’d never been skiing before and was afraid he might embarrass himself in front of us and everyone else on the trail.

Suddenly a steep incline loomed before us. I got going too fast, trying to show off for Dad, and practically ran into a tree. In the nick of time I managed to fall, then lay miserably in the snow moaning and complaining loudly. I was sure I’d done something awful to my leg and wanted to make sure everyone knew. As I lay there groaning, I watched Noelle come flying down the hill and take a nose dive just opposite me. Then we both watched in horror as Mom came speeding down the hill shrieking hysterically and heading straight toward Noelle. Luckily Noelle slid out of the way when Mom crashed to the ground just inches from her. Laney had fallen farther back and was now clawing at the snow trying to stop herself from sliding on down the hill.

Dad, his first time ever on skis, was the only one to survive the treacherous slope. He leaned on his poles at the bottom of the hill, laughing loudly at us and pointing. I think Mom really was hysterical because she couldn’t stop laughing either. We girls sat in the snow whining, then began to giggle. No one bothered to get up, we simply laid in the snow laughing and talking until we calmed down a little. Then we helped each other up and began gliding again.

The remainder of the day was terrific. Laney, Noelle, and I had a great time together, and everyone was in high spirits. We laughed and talked, and afterwards Mom and Dad took us out for hot chocolate.

My husband, Abraham, and myself were born and grew up in a village here in the Northern District of Ghana. We each grew up without strong family ties and Abraham mostly roamed and raised himself in the bush. While on his own, Abraham learned many skills and developed plenty of ways to support himself. He also made many friends who love him and appreciate his kind ways and happy smile. I never had the opportunity of going to school, not even to grade one. When grown up enough, I found myself down in Accra working for a white lady keeping house and cooking; I learned much from her. After a time, I returned to Tamale and that is when I met Abraham. We decided to marry, and we quickly settled down into married life. It was not easy being newly married and living in Tamale, a hard place! After our first year of marriage the Lord blessed us with our first born, our daughter Favor. We felt SOOO favored of the Lord, and so we named her Favor. Three years later, Savior our son, joined the family. Once again, we were very blessed by God and our Savior and so we named our son Savior. We were so thankful to have him after he was delivered cesarean section because of some concern on the part of the doctors. We thank God!
The year 2014 was the year when the missionaries found us and taught us about the Church. We enjoyed learning even though we spoke no English. The Spirit testified to us both that the Church was true!
Our membership in the Church has blessed our lives so much. When we first joined the Church we could not understand, speak, or read English. We would come to church each week and we enjoyed being there, even though we did not understand English. The branch president would invite us into his office after church was over and explain to us the teachings. We were nurtured by the leaders and other Church members.
Soon we were introduced to the Church’s literacy program. The senior missionary couples were our teachers. I especially wanted to learn to read, to write, and to speak English so that I could do God’s work and also teach my family. Through the Gospel Literacy program, we can now understand, speak, read, and write English. I do not know what we would do without the couples who contributed so much to our learning, serving as our teachers, and helping us to develop self-reliance skills. Our couples were Elder and Sister Brinks, Elder and Sister Renfroe, and Elder and Sister Wight. Without these couples we would not have been able to accomplish so much, but with their help and with God’s power, we are better now!
We love serving in our branch where Abraham is the elders quorum president and I am the Relief Society president. I can give lessons now and read from the scriptures.
We love holding family home evenings with our children. We are learning from the Come, Follow Me manual and we also pray together. I read scriptures stories to them from the Book of Mormon and the Bible.
We are so happy that our family is sealed together in the temple. It made my heart happy when I read, on the outside of the temple, those holy words! When I went inside, I thought, “This is a small heaven”. I loved it!
Ministering is a big part of what we do as members. We visit and support our other members. We have many members of our branch now. They are coming!
God has blessed us too much! We are so happy to be members of the Church and as we look back at our lives and how they have changed and been blessed because of our membership in the Church, we are so grateful. Our progress has been small but now we have strong testimonies and we will never leave the Church, not ever! If you ever come to Tamale, we hope that you will visit our branch.

Joe Pickett, a deacon in the Napa Third Ward, Napa California Stake, is a real hero. After a swim one day in his family’s backyard pool, instead of going inside the house, Joe felt prompted to look in the shallow end of the pool. His little brother, three-year-old Jonathan, had fallen in, and no one had noticed. Thinking quickly, Joe jumped in and pulled his brother to safety and called to his mother for help. When his mom got to the pool, she took over, and Joe phoned 911. Thanks to Joe, Jonathan returned to full health after a short stay in the hospital.

Our stake president was the final speaker. He talked of the importance of showing love in families and told the story of the last time he saw his father alive. His parents were at the bus stop to bid him farewell as he left for his mission. In parting he shook his father’s hand, hugged and kissed his mother, and turned to board the waiting bus. As he stepped aboard the bus, the Spirit prompted him to return to his father and say good-bye again. We listened raptly as he told us that he stepped off the bus and went to his father to embrace and kiss him one final time. His father did not live to see him again.
In concluding he bore testimony of the importance of showing love to one another in our families. We were all deeply touched and inspired by his message.

Recently we were reviewing a pile of job applications that measured almost three inches high. The applications represented dozens of heart-rendering pleas such as “I need this job,” “If I don’t get a job, I will have to quit school,” “I … I … I …”

True, they pulled our heart strings, but they were nonetheless rejects for one reason or another.

In the midst of our sorting-out process, a bold knock came on the office door. In walked a smiling, confident, well-groomed teenager who looked happy to be alive!

“Hi! May I take five minutes of your time?” he began.

At our nod of consent, he boldly continued, “My name is Jack Taylor, and you need me!”

Oh, sure; we silently eyed each other. What is this?

But he went on so sincerely and honestly that we couldn’t help but give our full attention.

“I come into your restaurant all the time, and I think it’s the greatest! But, you have one problem. More people need to know about your place. I really want to help you, and here’s one idea I have …”

He was so zealous about our cause and concerns, we sat back in amazement. Out of a hundred applicants, here was one who never said a word about his needs but only our needs. From a purely business point of view, we were impressed.

Jack went on to unfold his plan of dressing in Roaring 20s attire and going door-to-door all over town to tell people about our restaurant. He proposed that for every person who came in at his invitation, we pay him a certain amount—whatever we desired.

Did we hire him?

Of course! In mid-summer, when job openings were almost non-existent, Jack Taylor got a job.

It was only a few days later that a prominent local professor entered our door accompanied by his nine children and announced, “Jack sent me!”

True, Jack’s approach to us might have been somewhat brash, but the message he was sending us got through. His message wasn’t so much that he wanted a job as that he had the right attitude. During his employment with us, that attitude never changed. He always radiated a genuine concern for our best interest.

I once owned and had great pleasure in training [a well-bred colt named Dandy]. He had a good disposition, a clean, well-rounded eye, was well proportioned, and all in all, a choice [animal]. Under the saddle he was as willing, responsive, and cooperative as a horse could be. He and my dog Scotty were real companions. I liked the way he would go up to something of which he was afraid. He had confidence that if he would do as I bade him, he would not be injured.
But Dandy resented restraint. He was ill-contented when tied and would nibble at the tie rope until he was free. He would not run away; he just wanted to be free. Thinking other horses felt the same, he would proceed to untie their ropes. He hated to be confined in the pasture, and if he could find a place in the fence where there was only smooth wire, he would paw the wire carefully with his feet until he could step over to freedom. More than once my neighbors were kind enough to put him back in the field. He learned even to push open the gate. Though [he often did damage that was] provoking and sometimes expensive, I admired his intelligence and ingenuity.
But his curiosity and desire to explore the neighborhood led him and me into trouble. Once on the highway he was hit by an automobile, resulting in a demolished machine, injury to the horse, and slight, though not serious, injury to the driver.
Recovering from that, and still impelled with a feeling of wanderlust, he inspected the fence throughout the entire boundary. He found even the gates wired. So for a while we thought we had Dandy secure in the pasture.
One day, however, somebody left the gate unwired. Detecting this, Dandy unlatched it, took [another horse] with him, and together they visited the neighbor’s field. They went to an old house used for storage. Dandy’s curiosity prompted him to push open the door. Just as he had surmised, there was a sack of grain. What a find! Yes, and what a tragedy! The grain was poison bait for rodents! In a few minutes Dandy and his companion were in spasmodic pain, and shortly both were dead.
How like Dandy are many of our youth! They are not bad; they do not even intend to do wrong; but they are impulsive, full of life, full of curiosity, and they long to do something. They too are [restless] under restraint, but if they are kept busy, guided carefully and rightly, they prove to be responsive and capable; if left to wander unguided, they all too frequently violate principles of right, which often leads to snares of evil, disaster, and even death.

I knew of a couple in the Tongan islands who discovered what their mission together was. Years ago as a young missionary, I was impressed by this couple who were always helping the missionaries and others. Every time I went to their home I would find them reading the scriptures or making a meal for a missionary or taking care of a neighbor’s child or preparing a Relief Society lesson or doing some sort of service. They were not blessed with children of their own, but they were always helping other people’s children.

Years later, back in Tonga as the mission president, I was asked if I would visit an elderly widow named Luisa. When I was given the address, I realized it was the lady I had come to appreciate so many years before.

It was late afternoon when we drove up to her home. I was surprised to see that hardly anything had changed. It was a neat, clean home, but a very humble one. As I walked up to the house I noticed her waiting by the open door. As she held her hand out I realized that she had gone blind. Embracing her, I realized also that she had not long to stay in this life as she had a frail body of skin and bones.

We sat and visited, and she talked about her desire to help the “poor” people. I suggested that she may need some help herself. She kindly informed me that she was rich and had nothing to worry about.

I was a little confused and began to inquire. I found that she and her husband had often saved money to pay their air fare to the New Zealand Temple only to end up lending it to someone else who needed it more. When all the facts came out, I said to her, “Luisa, how can you say you don’t have anything to worry about? You have no husband, you have no children, you’re blind, you are in poor health, you live in a poor home, you haven’t been to the temple. How can you say you’re rich?”

Then she stopped all of my questions by quietly informing me that she was rich because she knew the Lord was pleased with her life. She said, “I know I will be with my husband soon. I know the Lord will bless us with a family. I may not have done all that I could do, but I know that the Lord is pleased with what I have done.”

Consider D&C 6:7, wherein the Lord says, “Seek not for riches but for wisdom, and behold, the mysteries of God shall be unfolded unto you, and then shall you be made rich. Behold, he that hath eternal life is rich.”

Luisa had taken the time to discover her mission and calling in life and had done whatever was necessary to fulfill it. She had obtained the “wisdom” spoken of.

An acquaintance of mine used to live in a ward with some of the highest statistics in the Church—attendance was high, home teaching numbers were high, Primary children were always well behaved, ward dinners included fantastic food that members rarely spilled on the meetinghouse floor, and I think there were never any arguments at Church ball.

My friend and his wife were subsequently called on a mission. When they returned three years later, this couple was astonished to learn that during the time they were away serving, 11 marriages had ended in divorce.

Although the ward had every outward indication of faithfulness and strength, something unfortunate was happening in the hearts and lives of the members. And the troubling thing is that this situation is not unique. Such terrible and often unnecessary things happen when members of the Church become disengaged from gospel principles. They may appear on the outside to be disciples of Jesus Christ, but on the inside their hearts have separated from their Savior and His teachings. They have gradually turned away from the things of the Spirit and moved toward the things of the world.

Once-worthy priesthood holders start to tell themselves that the Church is a good thing for women and children but not for them. Or some are convinced that their busy schedules or unique circumstances make them exempt from the daily acts of devotion and service that would keep them close to the Spirit. In this age of self-justification and narcissism, it is easy to become quite creative at coming up with excuses for not regularly approaching God in prayer, procrastinating the study of the scriptures, avoiding Church meetings and family home evenings, or not paying an honest tithe and offerings.

My dear brethren, will you please look inside your hearts and ask the simple question: “Lord, is it I?”

In 1993, after I had served as president of the Mexico Tuxtla Gutiérrez Mission, we traveled as a family to see my parents, who lived in northern Mexico. During the trip we talked about the joy of serving the Lord and seeing the change in people who had accepted the gospel during the three years we were in the mission. We were commenting about those people who were baptized, confirmed, and had received the priesthood and the ones we knew had entered the temple and were sealed as families for eternity.
My youngest son asked a question that made me reflect: “Dad, are you sealed to your parents?” I told him that because my father had been less active for many years, he and my mother were not sealed in the temple. To help him become active, I thought up a plan. It involved my children, and I explained to them how we would do it: Every Sunday my father would get up early to take my mother and sister to church, only to return home, wait for the services to end, then go back to pick them up. So I assigned my children to go with him and say, “Grandpa, would you do us a favor?” I knew his answer would be, “Whatever you want, my children.” Then they would ask him if he would go with them to church and stay with them so he could listen to their testimonies. It was the first Sunday of the month. I also knew my father would give any excuse not to go, so I planned to enter the room to help my children convince him.
The time soon came for executing the plan. My daughter, Susana, approached my father and asked him about the favor. Sure enough, my father told her he would do anything he could for them. Then came the invitation to go to church, and just as we had predicted, he used this excuse: “I can’t because I haven’t even showered.” That’s when my wife and I, who were hiding behind the door, shouted, “We’ll wait for you!”
When we realized he was not making a decision, my wife and I entered the room and, together with our children, began to insist, “Shower! Shower!” Then what we expected happened. My father came with us, he stayed for the services, listened to the testimonies of my children, his heart was softened, and from that Sunday on he never missed church. Months later, at the age of 78, he and my mother were sealed, and we, his children, were sealed to them.

The day that changed everything for the Quashigah family was the day that Vincent attended a funeral in Kpong for a relative. The funeral was held at The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Vincent was not familiar with the Church and did not recognize it as the same church that Esinam’s Book of Mormon had come from. However, he was deeply impressed with the dignity, peace, and simplicity of the funeral service, and he promised himself that he would find out more.
The following week he searched online for anything he could learn about the Church. His search was directed by the Spirit, and he felt a peaceful satisfaction as he learned exciting teachings and principles. He felt the Spirit bear witness to him of these things, found the location of the nearest chapel, and attended church meetings the first Sunday following the funeral. After asking for membership, he met with the full-time missionaries (Elders Tameklo and Ntambwe) and was baptized three weeks later. His family attended the baptism and Sabbath meetings the following day.
Brother Quashigah subsequently received the priesthood and was able to baptize Sister Quashigah and the eligible children after they had met with the missionaries. Sister Quashigah is quick to point out, with a smile, that the family became members of the same church that she attempted to introduce to them when she was given that first Book of Mormon several months earlier.

Before I was baptized, I had led a youth group in many Sunday afternoon recreational activities, ranging from touch football to kite flying. I saw nothing wrong with it, even after I joined the Church. I felt it contributed to the solidarity of the group and increased camaraderie between the members. But one Sunday afternoon in particular caused me to think about what I was doing.
The group wanted to play ice hockey, but we were short of players. I had a great idea. Why not call the Harrisons—the branch president’s family? Four of their seven children were old enough to play. That would double our number, and it would be a good way to acquaint the youth with some Church members. I called Les, who was the oldest, and he eagerly agreed.
But as I stepped into the house while I was waiting for them to gather skates and extra jeans, I could sense something was wrong. President Harrison looked displeased, and Les looked bewildered, so I knew I had interrupted a serious discussion between the two of them. Finally the silence was broken when the president looked at me and said kindly that his children had their agency, but he didn’t approve, and did I know it was Sunday? Three of the four went with me, but I left the house feeling pretty guilty.

A couple of months ago, I was going through a rough time and felt that my life was falling apart. I’d been told many times that our trials make us stronger, but remembering that didn’t take away my pain. After one particularly rough day at high school and a stressful evening, I felt alone. I was in the midst of despair, and I couldn’t see a way to overcome what I was feeling. Then I had an overwhelming desire to pray. I resisted at first—that solution seemed too easy to bring the peace I was seeking—but then I changed my mind. I prayed for comfort and for the strength to rise above my trials. As I did so, my pain and grief were taken away and were replaced by an overwhelming, all-encompassing feeling of peace and joy.
I rarely cry, but that day I wept. That was the moment I really understood that I am a child of God and felt how much I matter to Him. Now, every time I feel alone or am in pain, I pray. Sometimes the relief doesn’t come instantly, but it always comes. Prayer is how I withstand the teasing, temptations, and other hard things that sometimes come into my life. I’m so grateful to have the gospel in my life and to be a child of God.

Some years ago I returned home to find our little children had discovered some newly hatched chicks under the manger in the barn. As our little girl held one of them, I said in a teasing way, “That will make a nice watchdog when it grows up, won’t it?” She looked at me quizzically, as if I didn’t know much.
So I changed my approach: “It won’t be a watchdog, will it?” She shook her head, “No, Daddy.” Then I added, “It will be a nice riding horse.”
She wrinkled up her nose and gave me that “Oh, Dad!” look. Even though she was only four years old, she knew that the little chick would grow up to be either a hen or a rooster—much like its mother or father.
All animal life produces after its own kind, and little ones grow up to look and to be like their parents. That is true of people too. Small boys and girls grow up to be big boys and girls, then men and women.
I testify that God is indeed our Father. When we reach our full growth and destiny, we have the promise that we may be like Him. Just as all life follows the pattern of its parents, so can we grow toward the image of our Heavenly Father if we will live righteously and be obedient to His commandments.

I thought back to last year at Thanksgiving time. My whole family was at Grandfather’s, and after the meal, we children played behind the house.
During an exciting game of hide-and-seek, some of us had gone into Mr. Jenkins’s yard to hide. His house looked empty and lonesome, and we were sure that nobody was home. But he came out, waving his cane in the air and shouting for us to leave! He even called me a scalawag!
“Grandfather,” I asked now, “why are we in this yard?”
“Why, this is where we will build our bridge!” When I looked at him with questioning eyes, he said, “Do you trust me, Grandson?”
“Yes,” I answered.
“And if I ask you to do something, will you do it?”
“I will, Grandfather.”
“Good!” He handed me a pair of gloves and asked me to go down to Mr. Jenkins’s big garden. “Do you see those pumpkins?”
Of course I saw them! There were lots of bright orange pumpkins scattered all over the ground, surrounded by their withered vines from the last frost.
“I would like you to pick them and put them in a pile over by the house. Be very careful, and don’t carry them by the stems!”
“OK, Grandfather.” I went to the task. I had never seen so many pumpkins! Some of them were skinny and tall. Others were round and fat. They were all heavy! I worked very hard for a long time. After I got that done, Grandfather asked me to rake the fallen leaves in the yard.
I told him I would, but when I looked around, I was stunned! There must have been thousands of leaves surrounding me! The huge cottonwood trees in the backyard had certainly had a lot of leaves that year! It took me two hours to rake them. All the while, I kept thinking, Maybe when I’m done with this, we will build a bridge.
Grandfather was busy too. He had brought a shovel, and he dug up all the potatoes in the garden, put them into the buckets, and carried them to the porch. When he noticed that one of the stairs leading to the porch was sagging, he set to fixing it. Then he helped me bag the leaves.
Well, when we were finished with Mr. Jenkins’s yard and garden, it looked great! It felt nice to look at it and see what a good job we had done. I knew Mr. Jenkins saw what a good job we had done, too, because once I saw him peeking through a window—and he wasn’t scowling!
By this time, I felt hungry. I was glad when Grandfather said, “How would you like it if we went home now and made some of my famous potato soup?”
“Hurrah! I love your potato soup!”
We went into the house and made a great big batch of it. And as we were cooking it, I thought that maybe after lunch we would start building that bridge.
The soup was delicious, and we had a fun time eating and talking. Grandfather told me interesting stories that made me laugh. When we were all done, there was a lot of soup left. Grandfather put it in a big bowl and said, “Now, Grandson, I want you to take this over to Mr. Jenkins.”
“What?” I exclaimed. “I can’t do that! He’s mean, and he doesn’t like me.”
Grandfather just looked me in the eyes and said, “Please.”
So I got all my courage together and walked over to Mr. Jenkins’s front door with a bowl of warm soup in my hands. I rang the doorbell and waited a long time. Finally he came to the door. He had a broken leg and was on crutches!
“Hello, young man,” he said. He didn’t look mean at all—in fact, he even smiled at me!
“My grandfather asked me to bring this over to you.”
“I thank you for it. Tell me, could you carry it just a wee bit farther and put it on my table?”
“Sure.” As I walked through the house, I noticed that it was very messy. I suspected that he couldn’t get around well enough to take care of it. I put the soup on the table and told him I had to go. As I was leaving, I thought I saw tears in his eyes.
“Young man, you don’t know what you and your grandfather did today means to me! Thank you, from the bottom of a cranky old man’s heart!”
I smiled big and said, “You’re welcome!” Then I went back to Grandfather’s house. When I told him what had happened, he seemed very pleased. Then I asked him if we could build our bridge.
“Why, Grandson, we have already built it!”
“We have? Really?”
“Yes indeed! We built a very wonderful bridge today: the bridge of friendship, my boy. Mr. Jenkins may be a cranky old fellow sometimes, but as you could see, he needed some help. And he was glad to get it. All it took to warm his old heart was just being a good neighbor and friend. Our helping him showed him that we were his friends. Building bridges between people and making friends is one of the strongest bridges we could ever build!”
Well, it took me a minute to understand what Grandfather had said. But once I realized that we actually had built a bridge, I couldn’t help but smile. Then I remembered how Mr. Jenkins’s house was so messy, and it gave me a great idea. “Grandfather? Do you think we could add a little bit to that bridge today?”
Grandfather smiled, winked at me, and said, “Yes, Grandson, I believe we could!”

One day I saw my oldest son, Wilford, preparing a tithing envelope. He was probably around five years old at the time. Wilford didn’t earn any money, so I wondered why he was paying tithing. When I asked him, he told me he was actually paying a fast offering.
Wilford didn’t have much money of his own. But he was still excited to pay a fast offering.
I was impressed by this act of kindness. I asked him why he had decided to do this.
Wilford answered, “I don’t have any needs. But I know others do.” He knew his money would help people. He was very happy about that.
This simple experience taught me a good lesson: children are really in tune with the Spirit and have a natural Christlike love. Wilford had something he didn’t need and knew it would be helpful to other people. He was willing to make the sacrifice.
Saving money is good. But my young son taught me another lesson through his example. By listening to the Spirit, we can bless the lives of others when we share what we have.

Once when I prayed about how I could better follow the Savior, I was reminded that I could be doing the actions above more faithfully. While I was very consistent with some of them, others of them seemed to rotate within openings in my schedule.

With the inspiration to strive to be consistent at all of them, I was also reminded of two prophetic messages:
1 Nephi 3:7: “I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded, for I know that the Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save he shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the thing which he commandeth them.”
When President Henry B. Eyring, Second Counselor in the First Presidency, spoke in general conference of writing down evidences of the hand of the Lord in his family’s life each day, he said: “I wrote down a few lines every day for years. I never missed a day no matter how tired I was or how early I would have to start the next day.”4

I decided to put my trust in Nephi’s words and remember that the Lord would not give me any commandment (or collection of them) that He wouldn’t help me keep. And I also was inspired by President Eyring’s commitment to faithfully obey the invitation to journal daily even when he felt too tired to do so. If, with his busy schedule, he could stay obedient when tired, then I knew I could as well.

So I decided to put more faith in the Lord’s ability to help me accomplish all that He invites me to do. I prayed to Heavenly Father and I also sought to “counsel with the Lord” (Alma 37:37) to know the appropriate time or frequency I should devote to each invitation and commandment. I knew that some would be easy to accomplish because they were already part of my daily discipleship. And I also acknowledged that I may not be able to do some activities, like family history, for as long as other people may be able to. But I knew I could do something regularly. I also trusted that in these situations, as President Russell M. Nelson promised, “the Lord loves effort.”5 I knew that He also values the widow’s mite (see Luke 21:1–4) and whatever I was able to give. After all, we each can provide different offerings at different times in our lives or even in each day or week.

After prayerfully putting together a plan about how to accomplish the things I wasn’t doing as regularly as I could be, I prayed for divine help and strength to act on that plan. I also relied on the promise from President Ezra Taft Benson (1899–1994) when he counseled:
“When we put God first, all other things fall into their proper place or drop out of our lives. Our love of the Lord will govern the claims for our affection, the demands on our time, the interests we pursue, and the order of our priorities.
“We should put God ahead of everyone else in our lives.”6

I decided to prioritize the Lord in my schedule, in my actions, and in my heart and to leave my metaphorical “fishing nets” and better consecrate my life to Him.

Did that mean doing spiritual things 24 hours a day? Not in the sense of spending every minute reading scriptures or doing family history. But it did mean intentionally inviting Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ into each part of my day. In turning my heart to Them that way, I was reminded that all things temporal are spiritual as well (see Doctrine and Covenants 29:34–35) and that the Lord can be my focus in all my labors (see Alma 34:17–27). And it meant staying focused on what matters most as I strive to become a more intentional disciple.

Small changes started to make a difference and provide a path to improved obedience. If I was on my phone for a few minutes in the morning, I could use that time on FamilySearch’s Family Tree app instead of scrolling randomly on social media. While I waited in a line, I could make a quick call, send a text to minister to a friend, or talk with someone near me.7 I ended the day with my journal instead of with entertainment. I woke up with a better focus and a daily schedule to prioritize spiritual study before other distractions of the day arose. I followed President Nelson’s counsel to “make an appointment regularly with the Lord—to be in His holy house—then keep that appointment with exactness and joy.”8 I became aware of moments where I would usually become distracted by good things and instead tried to use that time for the best things.9

And you know what? I was able to fit everything into my schedule and still have time to enjoy other things. The mathematics of my time seemed to defy logic, yet I knew it was another way the Lord performs miracles in our lives that we can’t explain.

As Sister Michelle D. Craig, Second Counselor in the Young Women General Presidency, taught: “You and I can give what we have to Christ, and He will multiply our efforts. What you have to offer is more than enough—even with your human frailties and weaknesses—if you rely on the grace of God.”10 I felt (and continue to feel) that promise fulfilled in my life, and I’ve found that my schedule is actually less stressful, not more so, when I seek to do all the Lord asks. I’ve found that the commandments and invitations of the Lord bring far more richness into my life than anything else can.

While I should not have been surprised by what began to happen as I acted with renewed faith and experienced the miracles that made it possible to do all that the Lord asks, I am still in awe at how Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ have helped me accomplish what had before seemed impossible in my schedule (see Luke 1:37). Not only did the Lord “prepare a way for [me] that [I] may accomplish the thing which he commandeth” me, but the increased joy and fulfillment that came into my life was more than I could have anticipated. And I began to realize that these efforts are really more about whom I am becoming than about just what I am doing.11 A large part of that becoming led me to see that my heart was drawing closer to Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ and helping me become more like Them.

Hi, I’m Mikey. I’m six years old, and I have a dog named Truffles. Miles had a dog too, but his dog died.
Miles is angry with me. Dad and Mom say that maybe it’s because Miles’s dog died and I still have one, and maybe that doesn’t seem fair to him. I try to be friendly to Miles, but he calls me names and makes faces at me. Once he even threw a rock at me when I took Truffles for a walk.
A few weeks ago, Truffles had two puppies. My parents said we could keep one of the puppies, but they didn’t know what to do with the other one. They asked me to think about it.
I thought a lot about it. I even prayed about it. And then I started thinking about Miles. I knew that Heavenly Father knows all about Miles and the hard time he’s going through. I thought maybe I could do something to help.
I told Dad and Mom that I wanted to give the other puppy to Miles. They smiled, and Dad asked me why I wanted to be so kind to someone who treated me badly.
“You and Mom tell me that we should love everybody, not just people who are nice to us,” I said. “I want to do what Jesus would do.”
When I took the puppy over to Miles, his parents said he could keep it. Miles looked very surprised and happy, so that made me happy too.
Miles doesn’t call me names anymore. Now he just calls me Mikey. All of my friends call me Mikey, and Miles is one of my friends.

On 24 November 2016, as Sister Kasimbe returned home after an honourable missionary service, her mission president gave her $50 for eventualities during her trip home. She travelled safely and there were no eventualities. Upon her return home, she handed the $50 to her stake president, who in turn gave it back to the mission president. She later learnt from her stake president that her mission president said that she was one of the very few missionaries who returned such funds. Sister Kasimbe knew that she was returning home, where such money would go a long way, since her mother was striving to afford the necessities of life. Sister Kasimbe knew too that this was not her money. She was determined to be totally honest with great integrity even if that meant sleeping on an empty stomach. She tells her own experience: “When I arrived at home, life was difficult. My mother sacrificed her earnings for my welcoming home party. After two days at home, we were struggling to have meals on the table, so I prayed for a miracle. Soon after my prayer, I felt to look in my tithing envelope in which I found $10, which was a great miracle for my family”.

When stake missionary Paul Stanfield of the Lakeland Ward, Tampa Florida Stake, travels on speaking assignments as part of his calling as a seventy, he often invites a guest speaker to come with him. The guest is his son Rod, 17, who shares some of his missionary experiences as the only LDS teenager at Kathleen High School.
Participating alongside his parents isn’t a new experience for Rod, who, beginning at age seven, got up at 6:00 A.M. every Sunday for two and one-half years to attend stake missionary meetings with his mother and father, and who placed figures on a flannel board as his parents taught missionary lessons in their home.
“I want to let young people know how great the Church is,” Rod says. “I want them to know they can be proud of it, that they can get along without the bad things a lot of kids think they need to have fun.”
Rod’s commitment is apparently evident to his classmates, who elected him school chaplain. “It’s an office in the student council,” Rod explains. “I help to provide a moral voice for school officers and can also counsel students who come to me for help or advice.”
It isn’t hard for the other students to recognize the chaplain; he’s active in many other school activities as well. These have included playing defensive end on the varsity football team for the past three years (he’s the team member who makes a point about not swearing and the one for whom the coach made sure there was root beer in the locker room cola machine). He attended Florida Boys’ State and was one of 17 finalists out of 600 Florida applicants for Boys’ Nation. He was one of 12 high school students on a panel for the local chapter of Women for Responsible Legislation, a movement to combat the Equal Rights Amendment. He’s the president of the National Honor Society in his school, vice-president of the art club, a member of the lettermen’s club, and the one who presented a paper about Joseph Smith’s accomplishments as his English class project.
Rod’s post-high school plans include a full-time mission and then continuing his education at BYU.