Gospel Story Finder

I recently met a remarkable young woman, 17-year-old Caylee, as she shared her heartfelt feelings in a stake conference. She declared that God is real, the Church is true, and President Russell M. Nelson is God’s prophet. She also bore strong witness that the negative things some say about the Church and the gospel of Jesus Christ are false.
I was impressed by Caylee’s conviction and her ability to discern what is true and what isn’t.
But I was even more impressed when I spoke with Caylee after the meeting and discovered that her discernment and conviction had not come easily. In fact, she had endured a serious challenge to her faith.
Here is what she shared.
Caylee has always been active in the Church. However, as she began to think deeply about the gospel and the Church, some serious questions arose in her mind. She felt guilty for questioning and began searching for answers.
“My problem,” Caylee says, “was I searched in all the wrong places. Rather than searching scriptures or conference talks and talking to my parents, I came upon different articles online claiming they had the answers to my questions.”
Initially, Caylee thought the online articles were shining light on her questions. However, she says, “As I continued investigating my questions, everything I read filled me with more and more questions and more and more doubt.”
Caylee began losing both faith and hope. “The light from my testimony was flickering,” she remembers, “and I gradually stopped doing things I had been taught—reading the scriptures, praying, and attending seminary.”
She eventually became overwhelmed by the darkness and confusion she felt. She says, “I couldn’t determine what was from God and what was a crazy idea twisted and created by someone to throw me off. I could no longer discern what was truth and what was deception. It was tearing me apart.”
Caylee compares her situation to Joseph Smith’s when he said, “At length I came to the conclusion that I must either remain in darkness and confusion, or else I must do as James directs, that is, ask of God. I at length came to the determination to ‘ask of God’ [James 1:5], concluding that if he gave wisdom to them that lacked wisdom, and would give liberally, and not upbraid, I might venture” (Joseph Smith—History 1:13).
At this critical point, Caylee reached out to her seminary teacher, her grandmother, and her mother. Her seminary teacher assured her that her feelings weren’t wrong and that she wasn’t the only person with questions. Her teacher shared her testimony and recommended reading material that could help Caylee in her search.
Caylee’s grandmother didn’t preach. She simply urged her to consider which sources of information uplifted her—the online information or Church doctrine? Caylee began comparing: “Which one uplifted me? Which one brought joy and peace to my soul? Which one taught me that I would be with my family forever in a state of never-ending happiness if I followed God’s commandments? Which one put nagging voices in my head?”
Caylee’s mother encouraged her to pray. Eventually, Caylee went to her room and poured out her soul to God. She explains: “Nothing happened. No angels came down. My heart didn’t fill up with peace and gratitude. I went back to my mom. We prayed together, and she encouraged me to read the Book of Mormon for 10 minutes. As I read, I felt a promise in my heart that if I continued to do this, I would see blessings. I would be able to see clearly and know which teachings were from God and which were not.”
Caylee began to pray every day and read the Book of Mormon. She stayed away from Twitter and the websites that started her doubts in the first place. She went to seminary with the intent to learn, not to look for negative things about the Church.
After about two weeks of consistent effort, she felt the negative voices get quieter. School went better. Work was more enjoyable, and she had a better relationship with her parents. She was happier.
Because of that happiness, she says, “I finally saw my answer. I was able to discern what was from God and what was not because I saw firsthand what He was doing for me when I did what He asks.”
“That,” she concludes, “is the only way you can truly discern what is truth from God and what is not. We can study and ponder and question all we want, but until we do as James directs and what Joseph Smith did—ask and act—only then can we truly know what is true and what isn’t.”

One night a friend of another faith visited me. I usually study my scriptures alone, and I had taken them out to study that night. I was prompted to invite her to join my scripture study, but I was afraid and began instead to study alone. I knew that I had ignored a prompting of the Spirit. After a few minutes I cautiously asked, “Would you like to study the scriptures with me?” Without hesitation my friend replied, “Yes.”
We then read from the Book of Mormon. She asked me some questions, and I could feel the Spirit guide me as I answered. I bore my testimony of the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon. After I did this, she told me, “I have been crying and fearful all day. I had just prayed to God for help when you asked me to read the scriptures with you. I feel so much better now. Thank you.”
The Lord had used me as an instrument to answer a prayer and serve one of His children in need. I know that promptings are divine instructions from a wise, glorious Father. When we put aside our fears, we allow Him to manifest His power through our obedience.

Our seventeen-year-old son wanted to attend a movie that some of his friends had already seen. We read the newspaper review which commented on the “sex, profanity, violence, and vulgarity,” portrayed in the movie.
“So what if it is?” he said. “It can’t be any worse than what I see and hear every day at school.”
“That may be true,” I answered, “but that doesn’t mean you should see the movie.” I then said that according to the newspaper review, the movie was pornographic.
“It’s not pornography, Dad,” he argued. “The newspaper says it’s a teenage comedy, and I’m a teenager.”
“Yes,” I said. “But you’re not just any teenager. You hold God’s priesthood. Please don’t go.”
He didn’t go.

March 1839Lyma, Illinois
Five-year-old Mary turned the flour sack upside down. She was helping her mother make bread. They needed one last cup of flour, but the sack was empty.
“We’ll just have to make as many loaves as we can,” Mother said.
Mary knew why their family was out of flour. Since the night the mob had made them leave their home in Adam-ondi-Ahman, life had been hard. They had been forced to leave behind everything they owned. Mary’s father and brothers had returned to Adam-ondi-Ahman with other Saints to get their chairs, rugs, and food, but when they tried to cross the river in their wagons, the mob started shooting at them. Mary’s father and brothers had barely made it back to camp safely.
Since that night, Father had been coughing. For the last couple of months, it seemed as if he could hardly breathe. He was too sick to get out of bed. And because he was too sick to work, Mary’s family had no money to buy food.
Using a borrowed horse, Mary and her mother and her eight brothers and sisters had worked from sunrise to sunset clearing trees from their new land to farm. They used the trees to build a new house. They had finished planting the corn the day before, but it would not be ready to eat for months.
That night the family knelt in prayer and thanked Heavenly Father for their new land and house. They thanked Him for their safety from the mob. Then Father prayed that they might find a way to earn enough money to buy food.
The next morning, Father asked everyone to gather around his bed. “Last night I stayed up late praying,” he said. “I asked Heavenly Father to help me find a way for us to earn enough money for food, even though I am sick. When I fell asleep, I had a dream.”
He explained that in his dream, he had seen the family gathering bark and logs in the forest. When they came home, they used the bark to make baskets. They used the wood from the logs to make boxes. “Everyone in our family was working together,” Father said. “When we finished, we loaded the baskets and boxes into the wagon and took them into town to sell.” He got tears in his eyes. “This dream is Heavenly Father’s answer to our prayers,” he said.
That very morning, Mary and her family went into the forest near their home and found the trees Father had seen. When the bark was soaked in water overnight, it was perfect for weaving baskets.
Mary’s mother taught her how to make pretty round baskets with handles while Mary’s brothers split some of the logs into planks to make boxes. Within a few days, they had enough baskets and boxes to fill their wagon and take into town.
When they arrived at the general store, the shopkeeper looked over the baskets and boxes. “They are very well made,” he said. “I’ll take all of them.”
In return for the items, he gave them sacks of flour and potatoes, and even a bolt of cloth.
“I’d take some more baskets and boxes in two weeks, if you can make them,” he said.
Mother smiled. “We will bring another wagonful.”
That evening, the family knelt in prayer. Father wept as he thanked Heavenly Father for helping the family get enough food to last until the autumn harvest.
And the next morning, Mary helped her mother make bread again.

Another time a difficulty had developed between members of a branch. “I thought it a very insignificant affair. When we had assembled I opened the meeting with prayer, and then called upon a number of those present to pray; they did so, and the Spirit of God rested upon us. I could perceive that a good feeling existed in the hearts of those who had come to present their grievances, and I told them to bring forward their case. But they said that they had not anything to bring forward. The feelings and spirit they had been in possession of had left them, the Spirit of God had obliterated these feelings out of their hearts, and they knew it was right for them to forgive one another.”

When I was almost 17, I was baptized into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and felt a desire to serve the Lord on a mission. When my mission call arrived a few years later, I was called to leave Peru and preach the restored gospel in Salt Lake City.
Even as I thought about the great blessing of serving a mission, many things that I was going to need weighed on my mind: documents, passport, visa, clothing, and, of course, money. I was working but wasn’t making enough. I felt desperate! With a month and a half before I was to leave, I found I had only a small part of the necessary funds. All I could do was go to the Lord in prayer.
Because I didn’t make very much money, the tithes I paid each month were meager. But I soon realized that the Lord doesn’t care about the small amount: He cares that we pay the 10 percent He has asked. I felt a conviction and assurance that if I continued to pay tithing, the Lord would provide what I needed.
Everything began to come together. I got two additional jobs and obtained my documents. Many members of my ward, especially the Relief Society sisters, helped with other necessities. And the members of my stake offered their help as well. I left on my mission with what was required.
As a full-time missionary, I taught the law of tithing and its promises (see Malachi 3:10) with gratitude and testimony.

I accepted the research opportunity and arrived in Finland in the middle of the week, eagerly awaiting Sunday when I could meet old friends in the Helsinki chapel. As I greeted members at the door, a new face entered the chapel, and I immediately wanted to get acquainted with her. That person was to bless my life from that moment on. Of course, it was Sister Luthy, who was a student at the University of Helsinki. She helped me with my research then, and has been helping me in everything ever since. Without her, little of what I have experienced professionally or in the Church would have happened.
Was the small notice in the student paper or the meeting with Bud Patterson on the stake house sidewalk mere coincidence? What if I had decided to stay away from Stake Conference that Sunday. Was my unanticipated, unlikely meeting of my future wife which followed these events coincidence? Or were these special blessings of guidance, divine micro-management, intended to lift someone who didn't want to study English to a position where he could serve others? (Incidentally, my first teaching position as a linguist turned out to be in an English department.)
It seems that my life has been filled with things that I once said I would never do. I once said I would never study a foreign language, and I ended up a linguist; I once said I would never have an international marriage, and I have one. Now I am considering saying that I will never be a multimillionaire.
I have found that one of the ironic facts of life is that many of the most significant things in our lives result from seemingly small events or decisions. May we be in the right spirit to choose wisely when such things happen at unpredictable times.

“My father died when I was two and a half years old. I was the youngest child of seven. A sister died shortly before my father, so three boys and three girls were raised by my mother, a remarkable woman who lived to her eighty-fifth birthday. She was a great, great lady.
“Mother had none of the economic advantages that some people have. She relied on her own resources, the Lord, and her children. When my oldest brother was seventeen, he left high school to go to work to feed us. He and Mother and then each child in turn supported the rest while we went on missions and to school and so forth. Mother was the heart of the family. We loved her, and our lives revolved around hers. We all understood that we needed to help each other. As I look back now, I marvel that there really wasn’t any sense of discouragement or hopelessness or despair about our meager situation.
“Mother was the Relief Society president, first in the ward and then in the stake. At that time, during the Great Depression, food for those in need was delivered to the Relief Society president’s home. I remember that on occasion some day-old vegetables and bread and a five-gallon can of milk were delivered to our door, I don’t know by whom. The milk went into my mother’s canning jars and was parceled out with the other commodities, which I delivered to the poor. I couldn’t help wondering at the time why we weren’t numbered among the poor. Nevertheless, we never tasted any of that food; it went to the poor.
“I remember taking a plate of food each Sunday to the little Scandinavian lady who lived in a basement apartment on the corner of our street. She had no family or friends nearby. The dinner was sent on Mother’s nicest china with a cloth napkin over it.
“People were always coming to my mother for comfort and counsel or food. Somehow it was always there. She was a sweet soul; she was strong and loved the Lord and had great faith. She knew that if we did our part, everything would work out all right. And it always did.
“Once, when I was about seven years old, Mother gave me a dollar bill and asked me to go to Joe Wood’s market to buy a pound of hamburger. As Joe Wood put the hamburger on the counter, I put my hand in my pocket for the money—but the dollar bill was gone! I just panicked. I said to him, ‘I’ll have to come back later,’ then ran out of the store and retraced my steps, looking for the money. I couldn’t find it. I got all the way back home without finding it.
“I couldn’t face Mother and tell her I’d lost the dollar, so I ducked under the kitchen window and went around to the coal shed. I knelt down on the ground and told Heavenly Father that I just had to find that money. Then I crawled back under the window and went down the street again. There in the parking lot I found the dollar! Gratefully, I picked it up and went into the store to pay Joe Wood his money and get the hamburger.
“By the time I was eleven years old, I was working many hours a week. Every night after school until eight or nine o’clock and all day Saturday from seven in the morning until nine at night I worked in a butcher shop. I earned seventy-five cents a week, which I gave to my mother.
“I have had the unusual blessing of living both in England and in Asia with my own family. We have been exposed to the friendship of a great many little children. Here is one thing they all have in common: They really are all children of God. He loves them, and Christ died for them, and they are individually valued.
“There will come to you, no matter where you live or what your circumstances are, opportunities to be useful and constructive and helpful. If you use those opportunities, you will acquire a sense of respect and love for all people.
“You are valuable. You must never permit anyone to think otherwise. And you yourself have to start where you are in life. There is no other place to start. Accept what there is to work with and make something fine of yourself.”

In 1998, during a trip with my family through the state of Utah, in the United States, we visited the Monticello Utah Temple. As we walked around the temple, my wife and I discussed the words we had heard regarding the construction of more temples in Mexico. We thought that if one day a temple was built in Oaxaca, it would be in a long time, and we might not see it.
How wrong we were and how short our vision was. Thus, saith the Lord: “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways.”1 Two years later, on March 11, 2000, the Oaxaca Mexico Temple was dedicated by President James E. Faust (1920-2007).

You look up in your school’s cafeteria at lunchtime and see Chloe eating alone again. She’s a young woman in your ward who usually keeps to herself. You’ve talked to her a few times, but she’s quiet and doesn’t usually say much in return. You’ve never really understood why.
You think, “We have fun activities. We’re nice people. Why is Chloe still so quiet? Maybe she just doesn’t like us.” You don’t want her to be alone, and you want to reach out, but you don’t know where to start. “Does she even want friends? Will I make her feel awkward if I go over there?” Sometimes the unknowns can really trip us up and prevent us from trying at all. It’s fine if we don’t always know how best to proceed—but we can keep trying.
Here are a few things to keep in mind while trying to befriend people like Chloe who seem shy.
First step: if you like striking up conversations and find it natural and easy to do, understand that the way you like to interact with others isn’t always the way others do, especially if they’re shy. So when you’re trying to become friends with people who are shy, don’t try to change them or force them into a situation where they’re not comfortable. Some people just prefer more solitude or one-on-one conversations rather than group chats, and that’s fine. Make sure to respect their preferences.
You’re not going to break the ice instantly. Sometimes it takes a little while for shy people to feel comfortable enough to open up. They might not respond as you might expect or want them to at first, but that’s OK! Just keep looking for casual ways to talk to them. Keep saying hi and inviting them to activities. They’ll notice and appreciate your efforts. But remember to always respect their boundaries. That’ll give them the emotional freedom to come around when they’re ready.
“Shy” doesn’t always mean “silent.” Shy people usually talk more when the topic is something they’re passionate about. So ask them what things they like and then try to find a shared interest. Maybe it’s playing a sport, listening to music, watching movies, or reading books. By discovering things you have in common, you’ll create a connection that can make a huge difference in how comfortable they feel around you.
A big group of people can be intimidating for shy people, so when you’re reaching out for the first time, try going just by yourself. Next time, maybe bring a friend. If you ever sense that shy people are uncomfortable, though, give them some space. Just make sure they know you’re there for them when they’re ready.
When you’re trying to befriend anyone, shy or not, always make sure you’re being sincere. Befriend them because you genuinely want to get to know them and be their friend, not just because they might be sitting alone. Pray about how to best get to know them and help them feel of your sincere interest in becoming friends.
Now you look over and see Chloe. You make eye contact, and you smile at her across the room. She smiles nervously and looks away. You tell your friends you’ll see them later, and then you stand up and walk over to her. “Hi, Chloe,” you say. “Can I sit here?” She nods her head yes, and you sit down. You pull out the rest of your lunch and notice the book Chloe has next to her. You ask, “What are you reading? I’ve been looking for a good book to read!” She looks down at the book, smiles, and starts to tell you a little about it.

“I want to speak about the dead.”
Thousands of Latter-day Saints hushed as Lucy Mack Smith’s voice echoed through the large assembly hall on the first floor of the nearly completed Nauvoo temple.
It was the morning of October 8, 1845, the third and final day of the fall conference of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Knowing she would not have many more opportunities to speak to the Saints—especially now that they planned to leave Nauvoo for a new home far to the west—Lucy spoke with a power beyond her feeble seventy-year-old body.
“It was eighteen years ago last twenty-second of September that Joseph took the plates out of the earth,” she testified, “and it was eighteen years last Monday since Joseph Smith, the prophet of the Lord—”1
She paused, remembering Joseph, her martyred son. The Saints in the room already knew how an angel of the Lord had led him to a set of gold plates buried in a hill called Cumorah. They knew that Joseph had translated the plates by the gift and power of God and published the record as the Book of Mormon. Yet how many Saints in the assembly hall had truly known him?
Lucy could still remember when Joseph, then only twenty-one years old, had first told her that God had entrusted him with the plates. She had been anxious all morning, afraid he would return from the hill empty-handed, as he had the four previous years. But when he arrived, he had quickly calmed her nerves. “Do not be uneasy,” he had said. “All is right.” He had then handed her the interpreters the Lord had provided for the translation of the plates, wrapped in a handkerchief, as proof that he had succeeded in getting the record.
There had been only a handful of believers then, most of them members of the Smith family. Now more than eleven thousand Saints from North America and Europe lived in Nauvoo, Illinois, where the Church had gathered for the last six years. Some of them were new to the Church and had not had a chance to meet Joseph or his brother Hyrum before a mob shot and killed the two men in June 1844.2 That was why Lucy wanted to speak about the dead. She wanted to testify of Joseph’s prophetic call and her family’s role in the Restoration of the gospel before the Saints moved away.
Lucy knew the Saints would help her make this journey if she chose to go. Revelations had commanded the Saints to gather together in one place, and the Twelve were determined to carry out the Lord’s will. But Lucy was old and believed she would not live much longer. When she died, she wanted to be buried in Nauvoo near Joseph, Hyrum, and other family members who had passed on, including her husband, Joseph Smith Sr.
Furthermore, most of her living family members were staying in Nauvoo. Her only surviving son, William, had been a member of the Quorum of the Twelve, but he had rejected their leadership and refused to go west. Her three daughters—Sophronia, Katharine, and Lucy—were also staying behind. So too was her daughter-in-law Emma, the prophet’s widow.
As Lucy spoke to the congregation, she urged her listeners not to fret about the journey ahead. “Do not be discouraged and say that you can’t get wagons and things,” she said. Despite poverty and persecution, her own family had fulfilled the Lord’s commandment to publish the Book of Mormon. She encouraged them to listen to their leaders and treat each other well.
“As Brigham says, you must be all honest or you will not get there,” she said. “If you feel cross, you will have trouble.”
Lucy spoke more about her family, the terrible persecution they had suffered in Missouri and Illinois, and the trials that lay ahead for the Saints. “I pray that the Lord may bless the heads of the Church, Brother Brigham and all,” she said. “When I go to another world, I want to meet you all.”6

In the late 1940s, Elder Spencer W. Kimball, an Apostle since 1943, suffered a series of heart attacks. During the convalescence that followed, he stayed with friends in New Mexico. A Church magazine article later recounted an incident that occurred while he was there:
“One morning during this recuperative period, Elder Kimball’s bed was discovered empty. Thinking that he had taken a morning stroll and would be back in time for breakfast, his attendants went about their duties. But when he hadn’t returned by 10:00 a.m., they began to worry. A search began.
“He was finally discovered several miles away under a pine tree. His Bible lay next to him, opened to the last chapter of St. John. His eyes were closed, and when the search party came up to him he remained as still as when they first caught sight of him.
“Their frightened voices aroused him, however, and when he lifted his head they could see traces of tears on his cheeks. To their questions, he answered, ‘[Five] years ago today I was called to be an Apostle of the Lord Jesus Christ, and I just wanted to spend the day with Him whose witness I am.’”13

“Mom! Watch this.” Grace shuffled her feet, tapping her dance shoes on the kitchen floor.
“Wow!” Mom said. “You’re getting good.”
Grace did a spin. She loved to dance.
Her older brother Nate came down the stairs. It was time for him to ride his bike to school.
“Bye, Mom! Bye, Grace,” he said, running out the door.
“Can I run to the end of the street with him and then run back?” Grace asked Mom.
Mom glanced at the clock. “Sure,” she said. “You still have time before you have to leave for school.”
Grace kicked off her tap shoes and quickly put on her sneakers. She burst out the door. Nate was climbing onto his bike. Grace ran beside him until he got to the end of the street. She waved as he turned the corner. Then she turned and skipped back home.
“I’m back!” Grace called to Mom. She plopped down on the couch.
“That was so fast!” Mom said. She sat down next to Grace. “Look at all these amazing things you can do. Dance. Run. Your body is a wonderful gift.”
Grace thought about that. She didn’t think her body was that wonderful. Especially when she compared herself to the other kids at school. Sometimes she even complained about her body.
But she did love running. And she felt so happy when she danced. And that was all thanks to her body. She swung her legs and grinned. Maybe her body was wonderful.
A few days later, Mom picked Grace up from school. “How was your day?” Mom asked.
“Good.” Grace climbed into the car and buckled her seatbelt. “Well, mostly good. At lunch a boy said something mean about my body.”
Mom glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “Oh, sweetie. I’m so sorry.”
Grace shrugged. “I told him what he said wasn’t kind. And then I left and talked to other kids.”
“I’m proud of you,” Mom said. “How did you stay so calm?”
Grace bounced her feet. “Well, I remembered what you told me. About how my body is a gift from Heavenly Father. I know that if I take care of my body, He will bless me to be able to do what I need to do.”
Mom parked in front of their house. “You are absolutely right! Are you OK?”
“I’m fine. I’m going to go for a bike ride before I do my homework, OK?” Grace bounced out of the car. Soon she was on her bike, pedaling fast down the sidewalk.
She loved her body, no matter what anyone else said. Her body was a gift.
Grace whooped and pedaled even faster.
This story took place in the USA.

One night my dad was at a Church meeting. Me, my mom, my three brothers, and my sister decided to go to the track at 8:30 p.m. My brothers and I ran around the track with my sister. We found frogs and heard bats. Eventually we were tired, so we walked around once more with Mom.
Now it was really dark outside, and we could see the stars. Even though the moon and the stars were bright in the night sky, there were still lots of shadows as me and my little brother raced to go through the gate to the car. I was the first one to get to the gate and suddenly had a deep, warm feeling in my heart to look left. There in the shadows, slithering out of the gate into the light, was a big, long snake! He curled up right by our car.
I immediately grabbed my brother and ran back to Mom, saying, “There’s a big snake right by the gate.” We didn’t know what kind of snake it was. We called our grandpa to come help, but the snake already slithered away.
I am grateful for the warning I received from the Holy Ghost. Otherwise we might have gotten hurt. I am glad to be a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

William hopped into the car next to Jeremy and buckled his seat belt.
Is everybody ready for preschool?
Yes!
Yes!
Jeremy’s mom started driving down the road, and William opened his lunch box. He pulled out a peanut butter sandwich and took a big bite.
Jeremy looked at William’s sandwich. It looked yummy. Jeremy was hungry.
Mom, I’m hungry. Do you have something for me to eat?
Sorry, Jeremy. We ate before we left. I don’t have anything else.
OK.
Jeremy was sad. He wanted a sandwich too.
William saw that Jeremy was sad. He pulled off a piece of his sandwich and handed it to Jeremy.
Here you go!
Thanks, William. You’re nice.
No problem. That’s what friends are for!

A wonderful example of forgiving comes from Church history. W. W. Phelps was a close friend of the Prophet Joseph Smith and sacrificed much for the gospel. In Missouri, however, he turned against the Prophet and the Church. His false testimony in 1838 helped put the Prophet and other Church leaders in jail, where they suffered terribly for many months.

By 1840, W. W. Phelps had recognized his sin, and he fervently asked Joseph Smith for forgiveness. The Prophet answered: “It is true, that we have suffered much in consequence of your behavior. … However, … we are yet alive, for which we thank the Lord. … Believing your confession to be real, and your repentance genuine, I shall be happy once again to give you the right hand of fellowship, and rejoice over the returning prodigal. … ‘Come on, dear brother, since the war is past, for friends at first, are friends again at last’” (History of the Church, 4:163–64).

Other experiences I had as a boy taught me that the Holy Ghost can help us stay close to Heavenly Father. I had a friend named Ralph who was a few months older than I was. We went to school in a one-room redbrick schoolhouse, and Ralph and I would walk there together. One day we talked about his recent baptism and confirmation. He told me how clean he felt when he was baptized. I asked him what it was like to receive the gift of the Holy Ghost, and he said, “It’s like a voice that whispers in your ear, teaching you the truth.” I never forgot Ralph’s explanation. I wanted to have what my friend had.

Later, after I was baptized and confirmed, I attended a banquet where President George Albert Smith was invited to speak. After the banquet, my dad and I stood in a long line to shake President Smith’s hand. When my turn came, President Smith looked down at me, took my hand, and spoke to me. I don’t remember what he said, but I will never forget how I felt. The Holy Ghost testified to me that he was a prophet of God.

I am grateful for the Holy Ghost. When we obey the commandments, the Holy Ghost dwells with us. He purifies us and teaches us the truth, and this helps us stay close to our Heavenly Father.

As we talk, Tyson Warner tells of when things changed in his life. He had just been ordained to the priesthood and felt it was time, as he put it, to step up. “When I was about 12, I had a hard time reading the scriptures regularly. I made a goal that I would give up sleeping in, and I would wake up 30 minutes earlier every morning and spend the time reading my scriptures. It was difficult. I thought, ‘What’s the point in doing this?’ After a month I started to feel changes in my life. I was more in tune with the Spirit. I started noticing things in the scriptures better than I could before. That’s how I knew the Church is true.”
Now, four years later, Tyson says, “I like the book of Alma because that was what I was reading when I really started to feel the Spirit. That book is special to me. It was a turning point in my life. I gained a strong testimony.”

Augustina Ogunkoru of Idogbo Branch, Sokponba Stake
Life was quite challenging as most times we had difficulties in providing for the family demands at home before I participated in the self-reliance group meeting. I was then a housewife doing nothing to support myself or the family.
During the group meetings, I learned a lot of principles, especially the need to be savings-conscious, irrespective of how small the value of money might be. I also learned about the payment of tithes, and how to know what people want to buy, which eventually informed my decision to acquire a skill in catering services.
A Perpetual Education Fund (PEF) loan was very helpful to me in achieving my goal to acquire catering skills, which has now unlocked my potential to work and earn money for myself and also to support my family from home.
I testify that our Heavenly Father has blessed everyone with talents and through self-reliance, we can be useful to ourselves and family. I never thought that I could do anything before now, but with the help of the self-reliance program, participating in group meetings, and acquiring the needed skills set, I can support myself and my family without begging for alms.

Most of us at one time or another have been in a situation that was new to us, where we felt strange and insecure. This situation happened to our family about five years ago after President Thomas S. Monson extended the call to me to serve as a General Authority of the Church. This call necessitated our family’s move from the beautiful place we had enjoyed for more than two decades. My wife and I still remember the instant reaction of our children when they learned about the change. Our 16-year-old son exclaimed, “It is not a problem at all. You may go; I will stay!”
He then quickly resolved to accompany us and faithfully embraced this new opportunity in his life. Living in new environments over the past few years has turned out to be an enjoyable learning experience for our family, especially due to the warm reception and goodness of the Latter-day Saints. As we have lived in different countries, we have come to appreciate that the unity of the people of God throughout the earth is something real and tangible.