Gospel Story Finder

The next year I had a cast of students who were by no means religious. We had our problems, and I had the feeling it might be inappropriate to ask that group of students to calm down enough for prayer. I never suggested prayer before their first opening night.

It was a terrible performance. I’m not blaming anyone. We just did a poor job.

I had the cast stay after for a line rehearsal, but it took me more than an hour to go over my notes and point out what needed to be corrected by the next night. There was no mistaking that I was upset.

As we were leaving the theater, a few of the cast members were walking to the parking lot with me. One of the least religious of the group said, “Last year I heard you had prayer before performances.”

I was stunned. “Yes,” I said, “we did.”

“How come we didn’t have it this year?”

“I didn’t think any of you would want to have prayer,” I answered.

“I would,” he said without hesitation.

“So would I,” another added.

The next night we had prayer and our performance went off without a flaw. I’m not saying prayer can overcome poor rehearsals, failure to learn lines, or lack of preparation. But it can focus what a cast has going for it. It can bring them together in a unity of purpose.

As a skier and a snowboarder myself, I was deeply impressed with the “four-minute” silver medal-winning performance of Australian LDS athlete and snowboarder Torah Bright in the half-pipe competition. She dazzled the world as she finished a virtually flawless run culminating in a backside rodeo 720. However, even more impressive and surprising to the world was the way she reached out and demonstrated Christlike love to her competitors. She noticed that American snowboarder Kelly Clark, who had a bad first run in her final round, appeared to be nervous about her second run. “She gave me a hug,” Clark recalls. “She just held me until I actually calmed down enough and I slowed my breathing. It was good to have a hug from a friend.” Kelly Clark would later join Torah on the winners’ podium as a bronze medalist.
When asked about this unusual act of kindness toward her opponent, which could have put her own silver medal at risk, Torah simply said, “I am a competitor—I want to do my best—but I want my fellow competitors to do their best, too.”13

Let me tell one last story. Recently a husband and wife traveled to a hospital in Manila to collect their young daughter who was dying of cancer and who the doctors could not save. As they traveled home by cab, the child died in her mother’s arms. Instead of going home, the parents immediately instructed the cab driver to take them to the temple. As you can imagine, the arrival of the grieving parents with their dead child caused some heartaches for the temple staff. However, it was significant to me that when this family needed comfort and help the most, their thoughts turned to the temple.

As a teenager, I lived with my family on a hill in Namur, Belgium. We often noticed missionaries pushing their bicycles slowly uphill or riding swiftly back down. One day they came to our house. Knowing they were Americans, we were curious and invited them in. It was 1951, and I was about sixteen years old.
When the missionaries started talking about religion, we four children were not too interested, but my mother listened and kept inviting them back. As they taught her, she gained a testimony of the Church. Then came the question of baptism. My mother’s parents didn’t want her to be baptized, and my father was in Germany in the occupation forces. He came back only once a month for a two- or three-day visit. My mother got his permission, however, and was baptized. But he insisted that we children wait and make our own decisions when we were older.
In the meantime, we attended church with our mother. I went mostly because I wanted to perfect my English. I participated in the youth activities. It was a very good experience because I learned how to sing, dance, and act in the theater. I became acquainted not only with the Church but with the missionaries. I was getting closer to them in age, and we became good friends. They were in our home at least two or three times a week.
When I turned twenty-one, I attended college in Liege, a city about forty miles from home. The missionaries challenged me to be baptized, and I had to make a choice. It was a matter of testimony. I had questions about the Book of Mormon. I was ninety-five percent converted, but I needed a spiritual confirmation. The missionaries helped me find it by teaching me to pray, praying with me, and helping me recognize the answers I received. I was soon baptized. Since that time in that small branch, I have continued to grow in the gospel.
My faith helped me when I experienced peer pressure. I was the only member of the Church in my high school and college and, later, in Belgium’s Air Force. To resist temptations, I had to turn somewhere. I could not just turn to a magazine or a book. I had to have the internal strength that comes from a testimony of Jesus Christ. Once you have faith and rely on it, you will be strengthened even more. Faith becomes your determining factor in making decisions and moving forward.
My father never did join the Church, but he was a fervent supporter of it because he could see its blessings in the lives of his four children. (My sister and two brothers were also baptized.) Prior to his death, he asked me to give him a priesthood blessing, and I did. We had a very special conversation, and he confided in me for the first time that he had faith. Coming from him, this was a major step.
With age, physical challenges are starting. At the end of last year I suddenly had a serious back problem. I was unable to move or to function normally. Through a priesthood blessing and my faith in the Lord, my back got better.
I think that faith is our “homework” as Latter-day Saints. When you go to school, you have a textbook, but unless you do the homework each night, you don’t progress. The scriptures are our gospel “textbook,” but we have to do our homework. Our faith needs to be practiced. Faith without works is dead.
My message to you children is to listen to your parents and follow their teachings. I had a foundation in my life from the teachings of my mother and my father, who were great examples. They were not perfect, and your parents may not be perfect, either. But if you can separate their problems from the true principles they teach, and follow by faith, you will be blessed for it. If you will turn to your parents and to the Lord, it will make a big difference.

My parents were born in the Philippines, but both of them had Chinese ancestry. Like almost everyone else in the Philippines, they embraced the predominant faith of my native country. So, our family enjoyed a healthy mix of different family, ethnic, and religious practices and traditions that influenced our daily lives.
When my parents joined the Church, little did they know that they were embracing yet another set of values and traditions—even the gospel culture, based on the plan of salvation, God’s commandments, and the words of living prophets. Over time, as our family strived to fully embrace the gospel, my parents discovered that some of our well-loved traditions were not consistent with gospel culture. It became apparent to them that they needed to make a choice.
And so began the difficult undertaking of weeding our family of traditions and cultural practices that were contrary to gospel culture. You could just imagine the immense pressure they received from family and friends to hold on to certain traditions even though they were contrary to the gospel.
I am so grateful that my parents exercised faith and chose to keep their covenants. It was a long and difficult process. Even when I left to live on my own, they were still working on it. Although our family was still not perfect, we had come a long way. This experience taught me that embracing gospel culture simply meant keeping our covenants.

Many people qualify as heroes in my life, but one great example to me was a little cocker spaniel dog named Pepper.
I remember the day that my Aunt Madge gave Pepper to my brother, Max, and me. Pepper was a tiny black puppy, and we were thrilled to have him. He had a long, heavy tail, and long ears that nearly touched the ground.
One day Pepper was seriously injured by an automobile. His shoulder was crushed, and afterward he always walked with just one of his front legs. He was a funny-looking little dog. My friends all made fun of Pepper, but my brother and I loved him. He was our loyal friend.
I was born with some birth defects that required several major surgeries on my left leg during my childhood. I couldn’t run and play like the other children. When I was twelve, I was in an accident that left my leg so badly broken that I had to use crutches or a wheelchair for the next six months.
One day as I was hobbling with my crutches to the local grocery store, I was attacked by a large dog. He bit me on the legs and arms and knocked me to the ground. I remember screaming for help but thinking that no one could hear me. Suddenly a little black figure came flying into the fight and began to defend me. It was a savage battle between a crippled little cocker spaniel and a ferocious, much larger dog. Pepper gave me enough time to get one of my crutches and join the battle. Together we were able to chase the dog away.
Pepper and I were both hurt, Pepper much worse than I. He suffered from his injuries for many days, but he did finally heal.
Pepper—my gentle, little crippled friend. He was quite willing to give his life for me. I learned a great deal about friendship from the example of this little black dog. He didn’t require a single thing in return for his love and loyalty. He was pleased just to be patted on the head and treated with kindness. Maybe in some way I can return Pepper’s gift by remembering him and following his example of friendship. Because of Pepper, I have tried to be a loyal and devoted friend myself.

When Daniel’s daughter turned eight, he knew she would want to share her baptism day with friends who were not members of the Church. So their family decided to extend invitations for Allison’s baptism to friends from school and the neighborhood. These friends were asked to bring favorite Bible verses to the baptism. After the baptism, Allison underlined the verses in her new set of scriptures and wrote her friends’ names in the margins.
“Of course, as her family, we were very involved in that day. But we also let her just be with friends a while afterward and talk to them about what she felt,” Daniel said. “It was a really tender moment to see our child set an example.”

A similar desire existed in the hearts of those moving to Puerto Francisco de Orellana. In early January 2009, Marco Villavicencio—now the branch president—and his wife, Claudia Ramirez, were considering a job opportunity that would require relocating to Puerto Francisco de Orellana from their home in Machala, on the other side of Ecuador.
“My first question,” says President Villavicencio, “was ‘Is the Church there?’ My wife and I talked it over with our family, and we prayed to know if we should move. As soon as the offer came, we learned that the Church was being established in Puerto Francisco de Orellana. We moved here in February 2009, and the branch was formed the following September.”

Another sister, a recent convert, was startled one Sunday when a sister in her ward spoke about dressing with the intention to someday go to the temple and receive one’s endowment. “That sister’s counsel made a strong impression on me,” she says. “As I thought about it, I felt a desire to find out just how I should dress if I had been to the temple.” She later discarded her revealing or inappropriate clothing, and she made future purchases with Church standards in mind. Two years later, when she received her endowment, her wardrobe did not need to be changed; it was both modest and attractive.

Two twins get in a rocket ship.
Wait, no, that’s not it.
One twin gets in the rocket ship, and the other stays behind. And when the twin in the rocket ship gets back he’s older. No … he’s younger than the one who stayed at home. And this all has something to do with traveling at the speed of light?
I stopped to scratch my head and let out a long sigh. The theory of relativity was one of the first things we had studied in my physical science class, and here I was, just about to take my first-ever university final and still completely in the dark about the speed of light.
Everything else in the class was as clear as a newly polished test tube, but for some reason my brain couldn’t wrap itself around Einstein’s theory. And I had to understand it since it would make up a significant part of my final exam.
I had been praying for help to understand it all semester. I had put all my effort into it and still wasn’t any closer to even a glimpse of comprehension. Why wasn’t the Lord helping me? Didn’t He know how important this class was to me?
On the day of my physical science final, I answered every question until I got to the dreaded relativity essay. “Heavenly Father,” I thought. “I’ve done my best, now please help me to get this right!”
I sat and I sat, and nothing came. Finally I just finished the rest of the test and left downhearted.
As I stepped out the door of the testing center, into my mind came the theory of relativity but, this time, I completely understood all I had been taught. And I knew that this flash of pure knowledge came from Heavenly Father. After months of struggle, it was just there all of a sudden. I wondered why the Lord couldn’t have revealed this knowledge to me a few minutes earlier while I was still taking the test.
As I pondered, the Lord taught me something else I needed to learn. The grade wasn’t the most important thing. It was learning that mattered. And more important than learning the theory of relativity, I learned that all knowledge comes from the Lord. He can help me to understand anything if I do my part, regardless of whether I have an exam or not.
Years later I still have a clear understanding of what I learned about relativity, and the Lord continues to teach me about many other subjects as I diligently seek His help.

A few years later I met some missionaries for the first time. My parents had warned me about the young Christians who were going around preaching. As I was walking home, a tall American missionary with a kind smile stopped me. I didn’t know what to do. I was afraid he would talk about his church. If he had, I might have run the other way! All he asked was how to find the post office. I told him and then walked home.
As I walked away, I felt something. If I see the mission­aries again, I thought, I will talk to them.
Not long after that, I ran into a different set of missionaries. I was shocked that God would hear and answer the prayers of a boy like me, until I read about Joseph Smith. I had read in the New Testament to pray always, but God appearing to a man? It felt both radical and right. Rather than run away, I set up an appointment to have them teach me.

One of the ways Heavenly Father helps us find happiness is through righteous parents and Church leaders. They see things differently than we do, and we must listen to them and obey them. Once a group of young men went to a lake. They took a bow and ten arrows with them and decided to shoot at birds flying overhead. Each time they aimed at a bird and shot, they missed. The bird flew away, and the arrow fell harmlessly into the lake.

After they had shot the last arrow, one boy decided to swim to the middle of the lake to retrieve the arrow. He dove in and headed toward it. He got it and then turned back to swim for shore. By this time he was extremely tired. His wet clothing weighed him down. Holding the arrow in his hand made swimming very difficult. He began to fear that he might drown, and he called out desperately to his friends for help.

“Put your feet down and walk to shore,” they called back to him. He couldn’t see things clearly, but his friends, who were looking at things from the shore, knew that he was in shallow water. All he had to do was stand up, and he would be safe.

The morning of the attack on Pearl Harbor, Kichitaro Ikegami and his family waited for Sunday School to begin at a small chapel in Honolulu. Kichitaro, known as “Kay,” had begun attending Sunday School with other Japanese-Americans soon after he, his wife Matsuye and his family moved to Hawaii in 1933. In the beginning, the congregation was small. But by 1941, the Japanese Mission had been operating in Hawaii for over four years. There were now five Japanese Sunday Schools in Honolulu, and Kay was the Superintendent of one.

Just as the meeting was about to begin, Jay Jensen, president of the Japanese Mission, and his wife, Eva, rushed through the door. “The Japanese are attacking Pearl Harbor!” President Jensen exclaimed.

Kay’s face went ashen. “Oh no,” he said. “It can’t be true.”

Kay had been confirmed a member of the Church by President Grant in 1935. Although he was relatively new to Hawaii, he had lived in the United States since he was eleven years old and his children had been born in America. He was dismayed at the thought of war between the country of his birth and the nation he called home.

President Jensen told Kay and the rest of the group what he had seen that morning. At eight o’clock, he had gathered with another Japanese Sunday School that met near Pearl Harbor. Outside, planes were flying back and forth in formation. Some of them were dropping artillery shells, but President Jensen decided it was the U.S. military conducting maneuvers. As soon as he returned home, his wife rushed outside and told him Pearl Harbor was under attack. He did not believe it could be true until he heard the urgent radio broadcast for himself.

“Keep off the streets!” the radio announcer had warned. But President and Sister Jensen felt they needed to make sure the Saints knew they were in danger. Now, President Jensen told Kay and the other Saints to “Hurry home and take cover.” Not long after they exited the chapel, a bomb landed just one hundred yards away, setting several buildings on fire.

In the days that followed, Hawaii was placed under martial law. Schools were closed and the government censored newspapers and individual citizens’ letters. All Hawaiians were subject to a curfew, but those of Japanese descent were required to be home by 8:00, one hour earlier than other residents.

Kay’s son, 15-year-old David, felt unsettled by the sudden changes. “The days are all dead,” he wrote in his journal on December 11. “I wish there was school once again.” He went to his school hoping to get a library book out of his locker, but soldiers were blocking the road.

As Christmas approached, David worked alongside his mother and father to dig a trench for an air raid shelter in their backyard. The labor was hard and slow. David tried to enjoy some of the holiday season by singing a few carols with a choir of Saints for the Sunday School Christmas program, but the performance did not go as well as he had hoped. “You can’t get into the spirit because of the war,” he lamented in his journal.

Now, for our next scene:

Later that summer in Hawaii, David Ikegami, seen in this photograph, squeezed into his family car, trying to make room for himself alongside the six other young people his father was driving to the Japanese Mission conference at the new O’ahu Stake Tabernacle. Kay Ikegami was happy to give his children’s friends a ride to church—members and non-members both. The Japanese Mission in Hawaii was seeing a great deal of growth, especially among young people.

For David, this Sunday meeting was different from most. Not only would he be ordained to the office of a teacher, but he had been asked to speak. The expected crowd of over two hundred people was much larger than the gatherings he was accustomed to.

David had chosen to use the words of Elder John A. Widtsoe, a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, from general conference that April as the basis for his talk. Elder Widtsoe had spoken about the scripture from D&C 38:30, “If ye are prepared ye shall not fear.” Ideas about how to find peace and purpose during frightening times felt like an appropriate subject for the Saints of the Japanese Mission.

Although there had been no further attacks on Hawaii, tension and uncertainty was now part of everyday life. The military had taken over the hotels in Waikiki and beaches were fenced with barbed wire. Citizens were fingerprinted and had to carry a special identification card. School had started again, but David had to carry a gas mask and there were often drills for air raids and gas attacks.

Now, standing at the pulpit, David read the words of Elder Widtsoe: “Fear is the chief weapon of Satan in making mankind unhappy. He who fears loses strength for the combat of life, for the fight against evil.” But those who strive to live righteously and become a Zion people need not fear, the apostle continued. “There is safety wherever the people of the Lord live so worthily as to claim the sacred title of citizens of the Zion of our Lord.”

As President Grant had hoped, David and other Japanese-American Saints in Hawaii later served critical roles in reestablishing the Church in Japan. Three generations of the Ikegami family have now served missions in Japan; David served three himself, including two with his wife Elsie.

Quest for the Eagle Feather Quiet Water—or John Butler? Several years before, a storm had caused the boy to be separated from his parents, who were going to seek gold in California. Now he had to decide whether to try to find them or stay with Tall Deer and Blue-Flower-Blooming, who considered him their son. Somehow he knew that his quest with Running Fox and Screaming Crow would end the turmoil he felt.John Duncklee8–12 years

My brethren and sisters, at the outset, if you will bear with me, I wish to exercise a personal privilege. Six months ago, at the close of our conference, I stated that my beloved companion of 67 years was seriously ill. She passed away two days later. It was April 6, a significant day to all of us of this Church. I wish to thank publicly the dedicated doctors and wonderful nurses who attended her during her final illness.
My children and I were at her bedside as she slipped peacefully into eternity. As I held her hand and saw mortal life drain from her fingers, I confess I was overcome. Before I married her, she had been the girl of my dreams, to use the words of a song then popular. She was my dear companion for more than two-thirds of a century, my equal before the Lord, really my superior. And now in my old age, she has again become the girl of my dreams.
Immediately following her passing there was a tremendous outpouring of love from across the world. Great quantities of beautiful floral offerings were sent. Large contributions were made in her name to the Perpetual Education Fund and her academic chair at Brigham Young University. There were literally hundreds of letters. We have boxes filled with them from many we know and from very many we do not know. They all express admiration for her and sympathy and love for us whom she left behind.
We regret that we have been unable to respond individually to these many expressions. So I now take this occasion to thank you every one for your great kindness toward us. Thank you so very, very much, and please excuse our failure to reply. The task was beyond our capacity, but your expressions have shed an aura of comfort in our time of grief.

“Shortly after I was called as a General Authority, I went to Elder Harold B. Lee for counsel. He listened very carefully to my problem and suggested that I see President David O. McKay. President McKay counseled me as to the direction I should go. I was very willing to be obedient but saw no way possible for me to do as he counseled me to do.
“I returned to Elder Lee and told him that I saw no way to move in the direction I was counseled to go. He said, ‘The trouble with you is you want to see the end from the beginning.’ I replied that I would like to see at least a step or two ahead. Then came the lesson of a lifetime: ‘You must learn to walk to the edge of the light, and then a few steps into the darkness; then the light will appear and show the way before you.’ Then he quoted these 18 words from the Book of Mormon:
“‘Dispute not because ye see not, for ye receive no witness until after the trial of your faith’” (Ether 12:6).
President Boyd K. Packer, President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, “The Edge of the Light,” BYU Magazine, Mar. 1991, magazine.byu.edu.

My father did not come from a traditional family and was raised by his aunt. He had nothing more than a third grade education. However, once he married and had children, he wanted more for his family. He envisioned a better future for his children than what he had. While he had little secular education, he had great hope that his children could have a better future in America. With this hope for a better future, he left Samoa for America. Although he was a skilled businessman, he did not speak English, which made finding comparable work in America quite challenging. Rather than securing a similar job as a businessman, as his first job, he was a dishwasher. He eventually found a career as a machine operator for a mattress company. Throughout the years he often worked more than one job at a time. All was accomplished because he protected the vision or hope of providing a better life for his family.

Top soccer teams from all over the world are playing in South Africa this month, hoping to win the World Cup. Teammates will depend on each other, their coaches, and their fans to get them through to the finals. Among players and fans from each country, team spirit is so palpable you can feel it in the air.
But even though they won’t be playing for the World Cup, no team will be more loyal to each other, their coaches, and their fans than the priests quorum of the Kagiso Ward, Soweto South Africa Stake. A little over a year ago, five of these young men were introduced to the Church by their soccer coach, who is himself a recent convert. Now they are at the heart of another team, their priests quorum, and working with another “coach,” their bishop, as they live the gospel day by day and prepare to serve as full-time missionaries.
Like many people in South Africa, 29-year-old Solomon Eliya Tumane loves soccer. He spends tireless hours each week coaching the Hurricanes Football Club. He loves his players and rejoices in their successes. They love and respect him in return. So when Coach Solomon joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, his players were curious.
“He would come to practice straight from his institute class,” says McDonald Siyabulela Manyakanyaka, 17. “We could see the scriptures and Church magazines in his bag, so we started asking questions, and to answer, he would read to us,” says Thapelo Benjamin Sesinyi, 17.
“I was eager to teach these young ones because I love them so much,” Coach Solomon says. “I want them to go in the right path. I told one of them, ‘You would do well if you read the scriptures,’ so they all started reading the scriptures. They enjoyed it, so then I taught them about prayer. Then one day they surprised me. I got to practice early, and I was taking a nap when they woke me and said, ‘Coach, we need to visit your church.’ That was a day I will never forget, because I knew then that they were on the right path.”
But the coach wouldn’t go further without parental approval. He went to each player’s home, one house at a time, to ask if it was all right to invite the players to church. The parents agreed. “We came to Church three weeks in a row,” Thapelo remembers. “We wanted to learn more and more.” So the coach again asked parents for permission, this time for the players to study with the full-time missionaries. Again the parents agreed.
“The missionaries gave us each a copy of the Book of Mormon,” McDonald says. “They told us to read it and pray about it because it is true, so we did. I prayed and read and found the Book of Mormon to be true.” So did other players, who were baptized and confirmed. Five of the team members are now Latter-day Saints.
Most teams set goals for a winning season, but these five young Hurricanes are also shooting for another goal in the not-too-distant future. With the guidance of Bishop Bongani Mahlubi, a man they consider a spiritual coach, they are preparing for full-time missionary service.
“They are a great strength in our ward,” the bishop says. “And they are part of that great priesthood team of Aaronic and Melchizedek Priesthood holders all over the world. These young men do everything together—they walk to school together, play soccer together, go to seminary together, and serve in the priesthood together. If I call one young man to ask if he can help, I get all five.” McDonald says the priests quorum also studies regularly from Preach My Gospel, and Thapelo says that in addition to inviting friends to Church, quorum members seek out those who no longer attend. “In many ways, we are learning to be missionaries now,” he says.
“We often hear from these young men in testimony meeting,” the bishop says. “They often promise Coach Solomon that they will go on full-time missions.” Nothing would make their soccer coach happier. “I can’t wait for them to serve,” Solomon says.
Unity, gospel knowledge, and an orientation toward service—those are all part of a solid training regime for prospective missionaries. And in addition, these young men have already developed a great desire to work together to do good. Just like the soccer teams competing for the World Cup, they depend on each other, on their coaches, and on their fans (including ward members, families, and friends) to get them through to their “championship.” With that kind of team spirit, their goals will be achieved.

The roots of Tom’s mastery are sunk in Czechoslovakia where German-born Joseph Rehak moved with his widowed mother when he was only one year old. They were desperately poor, but Joseph was resilient, and as he grew up, he began to learn the fine art of pastry baking. He honed his skills and learned many recipes by going from shop to shop, working at each for a while and absorbing what he could from the finest bakers in Czechoslovakia. When he opened his own shop, he was as good as the best. The business grew rapidly, and when World War II came, he had a large business with many employees.
The war changed all that. He survived the Nazi occupation somehow, but after the war the communists took away everything he had. He fled to Canada and started all over again. With the help of his wife, he opened the bakery in Hamilton, and it prospered.
This experience, passed on to the family, impressed Tom deeply. “It really makes me realize how great it is to be in Canada with the freedoms we have,” he says. “A lot of people take for granted living in a free country, having food on their plate, and owning good clothes to wear. I don’t take those things for granted because my father’s rough childhood is a constant reminder of how good I have it.”

Bay Roberts, Newfoundland—
A testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ is not something you should take for granted. You may think you have it one day, and before you know what’s happened it could be gone. At least that’s what happened to me. When I was younger, I knew that I had a Heavenly Father who loved me, and I loved him too. But as I got older, things began to change. I became a little less concerned with maintaining my testimony. I figured it wasn’t going anywhere, so why worry?
I started to focus less on spiritual things, and little by little doubts began to enter my mind. As time progressed, my concerns grew bigger and bigger until I wasn’t sure if the Book of Mormon was true. Soon I found it almost impossible to read it without finding something that I would disagree with or have trouble believing. The strong testimony I had as a little child was almost gone.
I continued to go to church all the time I was doubting, hoping that I could find something to give me the least bit of hope. It’s a good thing I did.
In Sunday School one day my teacher told us that in order to gain a testimony, you had to desire it. I sincerely wanted my testimony back, so I decided to try again, but with a different attitude. I started reading my scriptures again, but instead of looking for what was wrong with them, I looked for what was right. I prayed and asked Heavenly Father to help me believe in them and to know whether or not the gospel is true. Then, after the hardest and most lonely time in my life, something clicked and I knew it was true. I had my testimony back!
I now know that I must continue to work to keep my testimony growing and strong. I know that the Book of Mormon is true and that I have a Heavenly Father who loves me. It’s good to be back.