Gospel Story Finder

May I relate an experience that came many years ago as I was learning to fly airplanes. My instructor and I were flying straight and level, and off on the horizon lay a range of mountains. Suddenly the instructor put the plane into a maneuver, and I saw with my own eyes the mountain range rear up, stand on its end, turn upside down and then continue around until it resumed its former position. The instructor then climbed up to a height, and he put the plane into a spin. As we came falling through the air, I looked down below and saw the whole world whirling around as if it were a huge wheel. I had never beheld phenomena of this nature before.

I have in the succeeding time performed these maneuvers myself many times. If I were to perform that snap roll today, I would not be able to see the mountains stand on end nor turn upside down. The reason is that I have been enlightened by reality and have learned the truth. I know now that it was I who was turning around, not the mountain, and it was not the world that was spinning. Having thus oriented myself, I now observe things in their true light. This is the case as the temptations of this world come upon us. We may momentarily be confused by what appears to be reality; but truth is eternal and will bring clarity to our perception, if we are obedient to the covenant and hold to the iron rod.

Pornchai Juntratip carefully walks into the room and senses the location of his visitor. He smiles, brings the palms of his hands together, bows his head, and offers the traditional Thai greeting: “Sawat dee khrap.”
Brother Juntratip is a slim, delicate-looking man whose youthful face belies his forty-six years. Visitors sense an ethereal quality about Brother Juntratip, who has been described as “a man without guile, untouched by worldly influences.” A Church translator in his native city of Bangkok, Thailand, Brother Juntratip has achieved much in his life despite losing his sight in his teenage years.
“I was about eight or nine years old when I lost the sight in my right eye. But it wasn’t until I looked through binoculars that I realized I could see only through my left eye. I lost the use of that eye when I was about fourteen years old. Now I can see only the difference between light and dark.”
But having lost the ability to see with his eyes, Brother Juntratip has been able to develop the ability to see with the Spirit.
“I was in my late twenties when I first met the Latter-day Saint missionaries. They were bicycling by the house one day and saw me. They stopped and introduced themselves and asked if I had ever heard of the Church. When I said no, they told me about Joseph Smith and the First Vision.
“From what they told me, I felt that Joseph Smith was a good man who had done nothing wrong. At their suggestion, I knelt and prayed to Heavenly Father to know if what they had told me was true. When I got up from my knees, I had this soft, warm feeling down my spine.”
The elders arranged to come again, this time bringing Braille editions of the Book of Mormon and The Articles of Faith by Elder James E. Talmage—both in English.
But Pornchai says he had been prepared for this moment. His father, a bank clerk, started teaching him English when Pornchai was nine years old. When he was ten, he began working with a tutor. Later, he enrolled in a four-year high school correspondence course offered by a college for the blind in the United States. He had completed the course and received an American high school diploma shortly before the missionaries stopped to talk to him.
“When I look back on those years, I realize that everything fitted into place,” says Brother Juntratip. “Not only was I able to read the books the missionaries gave me, but I think I was also prepared spiritually to receive the gospel message.
“I grew up observing the customs of two religions. Like most Thais, I was raised a Buddhist. My parents, being of Chinese descent, would observe Chinese religious customs, such as the new-year festival, the ancestral festival, and the new-moon festival.
“But I had read of Jesus Christ, and as a small boy—a long, long time ago—I had watched movies in which the Lord was depicted, like The Ten Commandments and The Robe. And I believed in God. I told myself that there must be a God, because if there were no God, who created the universe and all the good and beautiful things in it? There had to be an omnipotent Being.”
Brother Juntratip was baptized on 6 December 1976, at the age of twenty-eight.
By then, his parents had died, but he faced opposition from his two younger brothers. “They were university-trained engineers, and their only religion was materialism. They couldn’t understand what I was doing.”
Three years later, they opposed his decision to attend Brigham Young University—Hawaii Campus. “My brothers were sure I’d fail,” recalls Brother Juntratip, “and they didn’t want the embarrassment of having to bring me home.” To try to keep him from going, his brothers took control of a piece of property his mother had left him. He had planned to sell the property to acquire money for college expenses. But his brothers said they would hold the property so that if he failed, they could sell it and use the money to bring him home.
But Brother Juntratip still went ahead with his plans and enrolled at BYU—Hawaii. He wrote to an airline company asking them to let him fly half-fare. They responded by giving him a free ticket.
Pornchai studied English literature at the university, taping the lectures and also listening to taped versions of the study text. He supported himself by transcribing oral history tapes.
He graduated in December 1983 and then entered BYU at Provo, Utah, for graduate work in English literature. “Because I did well while in college in Hawaii, my brothers let me have the money from the property sale to pay my way to Utah,” says Brother Juntratip. “I had to give so much time to my studies that I couldn’t work to support myself, but luckily I was awarded a scholarship. I received my master’s degree in June 1986 and returned to Thailand.”
For seven months after returning to Thailand, Brother Juntratip taught students in his home. Then he was offered a position as translator for the Church.
“I had been praying that I would find employment that would fit my particular circumstances, and the translation job does that. I translate seminary and institute student manuals into Thai.”
At first, Brother Juntratip hired someone to read the English text to him. He would dictate the Thai translation into a tape recorder, and the tapes would then be transcribed. These last two steps were eliminated when he taught himself to use a Thai-language typewriter. Later, he replaced the typewriter with a computer, making revisions and corrections easier. In addition, he now receives a taped version of the original English text.
Brother Juntratip met his wife, Kwanjai, a couple of years after his return from BYU. She had served a mission in Thailand.
The Juntratips were sealed in the Manila Philippines Temple in June 1990 by the temple president, Floyd Hogan, who had been Kwanjai’s mission president. Their son, Pituporn, was born in August 1991. “His name means patriarchal blessing,” explains Brother Juntratip. “We hope he grows up to be a good missionary like his mother.
“I remember that when the missionaries presented the discussions to me, I felt the gospel message they taught me was true, was good,” he says. “By striving to live my life according to the gospel, I have come to know for a certainty that it is true and it is good.”

Let’s start at the beginning.
“I’ve been helping my dad build things my whole life,” she says. “I got used to power tools and construction, and I just really grew to love it. So, when I was 16 years old, I decided that I wanted to start my own construction business.”
“My dad has taught me to put things together, from two boards to a whole house,” Sarah says.
Sarah first remodeled a house one year over the summer. She loved it so much that she took on another remodeling project the next year. Eventually, she decided to tackle an even bigger project—a “spec” house, or a house that she and her team of subcontractors would build from foundation to finish, hopefully to sell at a profit.
Demolition day! Sarah takes a hammer to a bathroom in one of her projects.
Starting a business was no easy project, especially because Sarah was still busy with high school and cross country running.
Sarah started her own construction company when she was 16 years old.
“I learned so much,” she says. “I had to use a checkbook to pay people, which I’d never done before. I had to become comfortable talking to strangers who were my subcontractors. I’ve also learned how to deal with the stress of running a company, which was not always fun. There’s always the worry that you won’t make the money needed to break even when selling a house.”
But despite the worries and stresses that come with running a business, Sarah never had to face her big dreams alone.
“It always worked out, and I know that’s because of the Lord,” she says. “This business thing wasn’t possible without Him. He helped me through the bad days, the hard work, everything.”

Andrew stood in front of the mirror and scowled at himself. He decided he looked stupid. Who wanted to wear a tie anyway? “I feel like I’m choking,” he said to his dad.
“Loosen your tie,” said Dad. “Maybe you have it on too tight.”
Andrew slid his finger between his collar and the knot of the tie and pulled. He still felt like he was choking. “How come Amanda has to get married, anyway?”
“Because that’s what little girls do when they grow up,” Dad said. “Come on, Sport, it’s time to go. We don’t want to be late for your sister’s wedding. You look fine.”
In the car, Andrew slumped down in the seat until his chin was nearly resting on his chest, and stared straight ahead. This morning Amanda had been in the bathroom for what seemed like nine hours. He had heard her singing “Families Can Be Together Forever,” and when she got to the part that goes “I want to marry in God’s temple for all eternity,” she sang really loud.
Andrew tugged at his tie again, and a mean, mad feeling settled in his chest. If families are supposed to be together forever, why did Amanda want to leave them and marry Brad? She wasn’t even riding to the temple with the family. Brad had come earlier to get her, and she had gone with him. She hadn’t even waved good-bye.
“Here we are,” Dad said, stopping the car. Andrew got out slowly. He could see a carpet of grass a little way up the hill, then flowers, and at the top, the Jordan River Temple. The statue of the Angel Moroni on the spire shone golden in the sunlight.
“Andrew,” Mom said, “let’s go. Do you have your Friend to read?”
“Yes,” he said. They walked together up the sidewalk, and the temple seemed to get taller and whiter with every step. He wished that Amanda was with them. She would’ve been holding his hand or fixing his collar or pointing to the ducks that were waddling across the lawn.
The temple doors opened silently, and they stepped inside. A woman in a long white dress was standing there smiling. “Welcome,” she said quietly.
“Good morning, Sister,” said Dad. “We’re here for the Smithton–Peters wedding. Is it all right if my son sits in the waiting room? His cousin will be here soon to sit with him.”
“Yes,” said the woman. “I’ll get him settled while you go on in.” She put her hand on Andrew’s shoulder and led him to a glassed-in room full of chairs and sofas. “Here we are,” she said. “We have lots of chairs, so choose any one you want. Change chairs every five minutes if you like. I’ve sat in all of them myself, and they’re all comfortable.” She told him that if he needed anything, to let her know, then went back to the door to greet people.
“Great,” Andrew grumbled quietly. “Here I am by myself. I’m just the little brother, and no one cares, anyway.” He plopped himself on a soft chair. He didn’t even want to read. He just felt left out and sorry for himself. He closed his eyes.
The door to the waiting room opened, and he heard someone come in and sit down on the chair next to him. “Hey, Andy,” his cousin Ernie whispered.
Andrew opened his eyes. “You look funny in a suit.”
“Thanks.” Ernie looked at Andrew for a minute. “What’s the matter, man?”
“How come we don’t get to go in?” Andrew scowled, looking through the glass wall at men in white suits, sitting at a desk and checking people’s recommends.
“We’re not old enough yet.”
“How come we have to be old enough?”
“For the same reason you have to be eight to be baptized and twelve to get the priesthood and nineteen to go on a mission. You have to be old enough to understand things.”
That made sense. Andrew didn’t understand lots of things—like why Amanda wanted to leave their family. He still felt mad. “I don’t know why Amanda wants to get married at all,” he said. “She never even talks to me anymore.”
Ernie grinned. “Jealous, huh? Think she won’t love you anymore?”
Andrew shrugged, but he did think that a little bit. She hadn’t had time to take him to the library or out for ice cream or anything lately because she was always with Brad or doing something for the wedding.
Ernie picked up a copy of the Book of Mormon that was on a table and started to read. Andrew knew that he was trying to get ready for his mission, so he didn’t bother him. Instead, he watched the second hand sweep around and around the face of a wall clock. When he watched the seconds, the minutes seemed to go faster.
He wondered what his sister was doing. He wondered if she would even think about him at all.
Next he watched people coming into the temple, all of them dressed in Church clothes and most of them carrying little suitcases. His dad had told him that the suitcases had white clothes in them because everyone wears white in the temple, like the lady by the door. She was still smiling at everyone who came in.
Andrew had never been in such a quiet place. It was even quieter than church because there were no babies crying or loud talking. People even seemed to walk more quietly. The longer he listened to the stillness, the quieter he felt. His tie didn’t choke him anymore, and he let his shoulders relax against the back of the chair. It was nice to not feel mad for a while. The second hand on the clock kept sweeping around.
“Ernie,” he whispered, “why is it so quiet? Why do I feel good in here?”
Ernie looked up from the scriptures and smiled. “Remember how you felt after you got baptized and confirmed?” Andrew nodded. “How you felt warm and good and quiet because the Holy Ghost was there?” Andrew nodded again. “Well, since this is Heavenly Father’s house, His Spirit is here all the time. That’s why it feels good.”
“I like it,” whispered Andrew.
“So do I.” Ernie bent his head over his book again.
Andrew closed his eyes. He wondered if the feeling was even stronger inside the temple than it was by the front door.
“Hey, Andy,” Ernie said, bumping his shoulder against Andrew’s, “they’re coming out.”
Andrew opened his eyes. The foyer was filled with people he knew—aunts and uncles, his grandparents, his mom and dad. Brad’s mom and dad—but he couldn’t see Amanda.
“Let’s go outside and wait for them, OK?” said Ernie.
In the bright sunshine, Andrew looked at the water fountain in front of the temple. He stood on one foot, then the other and wondered if Amanda would ever come out. Maybe she’d forgotten all about him.
He looked up and saw her coming. Brad was holding her hand, and in her other hand, she had a bunch of pink flowers. She was still dressed in white, and they both looked so happy that they almost glowed.
“Andrew,” Amanda called. Pulling Brad over to where Andrew stood, she bent down and hugged him. Andrew just stood there for a moment. Then he put his arms around her and hugged back. Her hair tickled his nose.
“I love you,” Amanda said.
“You do? I thought you loved Brad more than me.”
Amanda looked surprised. “I do love Brad,” she said. “But you’re still the only little brother I have.”
Brad reached out and messed up Andrew’s hair. “Guess you’re my brother now too.”
Andrew squinted up at Brad. “You’re part of my family now?” He hadn’t thought about it that way.
“Sure,” laughed Brad, “and since families are forever, I hope you like me. Think I’ll make a good big brother?”
Andrew had never had a big brother before. It might be fun. “Sure!” He wanted to laugh and sing and dance. Instead, he stepped back, looked up to where the statue of Moroni was, and smiled.

There was to be one great final lesson before his mortal life ended. He was incarcerated in Carthage Jail with his brother Hyrum, with John Taylor, and with Willard Richards. The angry mob stormed the jail; they came up the stairway, blasphemous in their cursing, heavily armed, and began to fire at will. Hyrum was hit and died. John Taylor took several balls of fire within his bosom. The Prophet Joseph, with his pistol in hand, was attempting to defend his life and that of his brethren, and yet he could tell from the pounding on the door that this mob would storm that door and would kill John Taylor and Willard Richards in an attempt to kill him.
And so his last great act here upon the earth was to leave the door and lead Willard Richards to safety, throw the gun on the floor, and go to the window, that they might see him, that the attention of this ruthless mob might be focused upon him rather than the others. Joseph Smith gave his life. Willard Richards was spared, and John Taylor recovered from his wounds. “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends” (John 15:13). The Prophet Joseph Smith taught us love—by example.

Marcelino Tossen believed in God, read the Bible, and enjoyed talking about religion, so when the full-time missionaries knocked on his apartment door one warm January day in 1992, he invited them in. That decision changed his life.
“Elder Zanni and Elder Halls worked under the impressions of the Spirit,” recalls Marcelino. Before that first discussion had even ended, the elders told him that he would be baptized into the Church, even telling him the exact day he would be baptized.
“I’m not going to get baptized,” Marcelino countered. “I want only to talk to you.”
The missionaries gave him a Book of Mormon and asked him to read several verses and pray that night about their message. He did so but felt nothing.
During a subsequent discussion, however, Elder Zanni asked him, “Would it be all right if we prayed so you can ask Heavenly Father if what we have been teaching you is true?”
As he prayed, Marcelino says, “my heart began to burn fervently within me. Nothing like that had ever happened to me before. I couldn’t even finish my prayer, and I arose from my knees.”
Elder Zanni asked Marcelino if he had felt anything during his prayer. When Marcelino told him no, the missionary said, “I felt the Spirit very strong. It’s strange that you didn’t feel anything.”
When he admitted what he had felt, Marcelino says, “the elders read from the Doctrine and Covenants, telling me that when the Lord wants us to know if something is right, He will send His peace or make our heart burn within us [see D&C 6:23; 9:8]. That day was a turning point for me.”
From then on, the Spirit labored with him and testified of the truth through numerous spiritual experiences. “I’d feel the burning again while I was alone in my apartment,” Marcelino says. “When I would open the window, I’d see the elders nearby on a corner teaching people about the Church. I could feel when they were close, and I began to take seriously what they were teaching me.”
Marcelino received a warm welcome when he began attending church. He was baptized a short while later on April 22—the exact day the missionaries had named three months earlier. Today, after serving nine years as president of the Ushuaia district, he serves as the second counselor in the presidency of the Buenos Aires north mission.
“When we read that the Lord will ‘send forth [His] word unto the ends of the earth’ [D&C 112:4], that’s Ushuaia,” says President Tossen. “Ushuaia is the end of the earth. But for those like me who found the gospel here, it’s the beginning of everything. Here you’ll find the lighthouse at the end of the world. But here is where I found faith and the lighthouse of the Lord.”

We will find happiness as we show our love to God and to our neighbors through our actions. Over the last six years, we have lived in three different countries and five different cities. Although it may sound exciting, it was very difficult to learn and adjust to new cultures and make new friends. Many times, we felt very lonely, but we quickly learned that the best way to connect with people and to find happiness was through service. During the time that we lived in Florida (United States) our kids would get up early on Saturdays and help in the local community food pantry for a few hours. That sharing of love through service helped them feel happiness despite the difficulties they were facing at the time. My wife, too, on special holidays would bake goodies and then as a family, we would go around the block and share them with our neighbors. Through these very small acts we were able to make new friends, share the gospel and find happiness.

I have been remembering a question I was asked once or twice by my parents. It is a question I have had occasion to ask my own children. Maybe you have heard this from your parents as well. This is the question: "What were you thinking?"
I remember a specific incident in which I needed to find an answer to that question for my Dad. I had driven the family car to mutual one night. On the 9-mile drive home afterward, I got into a little race with one of my friends. As I sped beyond 100 miles per hour to get around her, I heard a little pop on the right side of my car. It drew my attention to the side mirror on the passenger side, but I could see nothing in that mirror. It was pitch black. I knew I should be seeing my friend's car in that side mirror as I passed and pulled over in front of her. I checked the rearview mirror. There she was! But the side mirror was still pitch black.
Just then I heard a pop on the left side of my car. I looked to that mirror, to my astonishment, to find it was also pitch black!
To make a long story short, the next day I needed to come up with an explanation for the two missing mirrors. I thought my Dad probably knew at what speed side mirrors pop out of their frames, so without going into detail I spoke of the response of our Ford's V-8 engine when I needed speed to win the race and said, "Those mirrors must have been loose." My Dad's response was the question: "What were you thinking?"
I don't remember clearly my reply, but in my experience, the best answer to that question has usually been: "I was only thinking about the fun. The excitement of the moment controlled my selfish desires for a thrill and a triumphant win!"
What I couldn't see through the excitement was the danger, not just to the car, but to myself and others. It is an example of how losing control of clear thinking can cause us to act in ways that put us in harm's way physically.

I was the "Fourth Period Seminary Class President" one year, which more or less meant that I coordinated the opening exercises each day, asking students to play the piano, lead the singing, offer the prayer, and read a scripture. As it happened, there were two girls in the class who talked loudly throughout the entire period, and they especially liked to mock students who were participating in the devotional. One day, in front of the entire class, I rudely asked the teacher to make them be quiet. Immediately, I knew that what I had done was mean and that I ought to apologize. But I felt they deserved it, so I refused to listen to my conscience.
Days went by, then weeks, and I was constantly troubled by the vague sense that something was wrong. I felt sick. My stomach hurt. I was miserable. I'm not just talking about not feeling the Spirit--like when the Spirit is absent. Jonah's description of the belly of the whale--which he also called the belly of hell--isn't just about being alone. Jonah talks about the water encompassing his soul and the weeds wrapped around his head. He felt awful.
It took Jonah three days and three nights before he was humbled sufficiently to utter the words recorded in Jonah 2:9, "I will sacrifice unto thee with the voice of thanksgiving." Then, in verse 10, the whale "vomited out Jonah upon the dry land." I was a bit more stubborn. I'm sure that a month or more passed before I finally relented and called the girls to apologize. And, after being "vomited" on the beach by that whale, I immediately felt better. A weight was lifted.

Late summer of 1853 saw an epidemic of cholera sweep across the town. In six weeks, more than 1,500 inhabitants died, and now Robert was ill.4 On 8 September, he felt so unwell that he requested a fellow priesthood holder to administer to him. Then, although ill himself, Robert continued to serve others, by visiting and blessing those who were afflicted. Robert recorded:
“In the morning at 6 o’clock, Sister Sutherland knocked me up to lay hands upon her son who was taken ill. I went and administered to him and before I came away, he got out of bed and had his breakfast.”
Robert recovered and returned to full health. As time wore on, Robert continued to worry about his wider family, both temporally and spiritually. “May I do not descend to where they are, but may they ascend to where I am, and all of us go on rejoicing in our journey to Celestial Glory.” Sadly, soon after expressing these thoughts, his mother died; but good followed with the birth of his daughter in September 1854.

Such a fracture developed between two heroes of the Restoration of the Church of Jesus Christ in these latter days. Parley and Orson Pratt were brothers, early converts, and ordained Apostles. Each faced a trial of faith but came through with an unshakable testimony. Both sacrificed and contributed greatly for the cause of truth.

During the Nauvoo era, their relationship became strained, culminating in a heated, public confrontation in 1846. A deep and prolonged rift developed. Parley initially wrote to Orson to resolve the rift, but Orson did not reply. Parley gave up, feeling that correspondence was over forever, unless initiated by Orson.1

Several years later, in March 1853, Orson learned about a project to publish a book on the descendants of William Pratt, the brothers’ earliest American ancestor. Orson began to weep “like a little child” as he glimpsed this treasure trove of family history. His heart melted, and he determined to repair the breach with his brother.

Orson wrote to Parley, “Now my dear brother, there are none among all the descendants of our Ancestor, Lieut[enant] William Pratt, who have so deep an interest in searching out his descendants as ourselves.” Orson was one of the first to understand that Latter-day Saints have an obligation to research and compile family histories so that we can perform vicarious ordinances for our ancestors. His letter continued: “We know that the God of our fathers has had a hand in all this. … I will beg pardon for having been so backward in writing to you. … I hope you will forgive me.”2 Despite their unshakable testimonies, their love for their ancestors was the catalyst to heal a rift, mend a hurt, and seek and extend forgiveness.3

When God directs us to do one thing, He often has many purposes in mind. Family history and temple work is not only for the dead but blesses the living as well. For Orson and Parley, it turned their hearts to each other. Family history and temple work provided the power to heal that which needed healing.

When an LDS member is the host and needs to offer a toast, the problem is more conspicuous. I solved the problem successfully for the first time in Paraguay, and used that formula from then on. At a major banquet in which I had to offer a toast to the president of the country, to his cabinet ministers, and to Paraguay as our host country, I decided to use water. In Paraguay one of the bank’s clients was the new municipal water system, which for the first time in that country’s history produced a pure, fine-tasting uncontaminated water. At the appropriate time, I lifted my champagne glass full of water and announced to the assembled important people, “I don’t know what you have in your glasses, but in mine I have the purest of liquids—water from the municipal water system of Asuncion—and I lift my glass in a cordial toast to his Excellency, the President,” etc., etc. The compliment was sincere, and it worked very well. They laughed, and no one ever forgot that “Mormon Toast.”

Time continued to go by, and we were extremely content with our lives. We had our two wonderful daughters, had great neighbors, a good job, and life seemed to be going well for us. We started to think that our family would be just the four of us. Afterall, most of our neighbors only had two kids. However, one day as Caryn was putting away the clothes Chrysanne had grown out of, she could not feel peace about giving the little clothes away. She was also about to turn 40, and knew that if we were going to have another child now was the time. Her patriarchal blessing promised that she would bring forth bodies (plural), and at this point we only had the one birth. We truly believed God would fulfill his promises. As Elder Angel Abrea stated, “The faithful Latter-day Saint waits patiently because, certainly, faith, ‘the assurance of things hoped for’, is exercised with the conviction that the promises will be fulfilled ‘in his own time, and in his own way, and according to his own will’” (1992).

We started once again going to see infertility specialists, and were told that the procedure that had the best chance for us in our condition was invitro fertilization. However, this was a very costly procedure, and one that had just a 25% chance of success at Caryn’s age. We moved forward with faith knowing of the Lord’s promise to Caryn, and that we could put our trust in Him. We traveled out of state to a respected clinic and worked with an outstanding physician in this invitro fertilization process. While we were gone, our Bishop felt impressed to look for Caryn in the congregation one Sunday. The Spirit told him, “Sister Houghton needs you to tell her something.” He did not know why, and did not even see my wife in order to follow through with the prompting. Later that week we came back to our home in Oklahoma extremely disheartened, since we just had been told by the fertility clinic that the procedure had not been successful. We had spent tens of thousands of dollars, given up time away from work, put our trust in medicine and the Lord, only to have it end in failure. We were sad and wondered what the Lord wanted us to do in our lives instead.

The following Sunday after sacrament meeting the Bishop asked to see us in his office. He said, “Brother & Sister Houghton, the Lord has strongly prompted me two Sundays in a row to tell you that you will have a son.” We were dumbstruck. We had not told him of our situation, but right then at the moment we knew the Lord understood our anguish and was ready to bless us in our desire. Then in the office the bishop and I laid our hands on my wife’s head and he blessed her with comfort, and promised her that the Lord knew of her desires, and that He would fulfill His promises to her. Two months later we returned to the clinic, buoyed up with the faith we had in the Lord, knowing that he would fulfill His promise to us. Nine months later our little boy, Isaac, was born. Two months after that he accompanied us to Laie when I interviewed for a job here at BYU–Hawaii, and now has grown up as a barefoot local boy.

Faith has always been a source of strength for me, especially as a single mother. My faith helped me find peace, patience, and hope when life felt overwhelming. The stories in the Book of Mormon inspired me to keep moving forward, knowing that I could overcome challenges with God’s help.
Lately, the word faith has stood out to me in my Book of Mormon studies. In Alma, the faithful Church members turned to the Lord because they knew their lives depended upon Him. As the wars ended, they were grateful to God for safely delivering them from their enemies. However, not long after God blessed them with safety and prosperity, they quickly forgot where those blessings came from.
“Yea, and we may see at the very time when he doth prosper his people… yea, then is the time that they do harden their hearts, and do forget the Lord their God, and do trample under their feet the Holy One—yea, and this because of their ease, and their exceedingly great prosperity” (Helaman 12:2).
The Book of Mormon shows us that pride will cause us to lose faith. As God’s children are blessed and no longer in distress, they tend to forget God. They believe they no longer need Him.
President Russell M. Nelson counseled us to “think celestial!”
“Thinking celestial means being spiritually minded. From the Book of Mormon prophet Jacob, we learn that ‘to be spiritually minded is life eternal’ [2 Nephi 9:39].
“When you make choices, I invite you to take the long view—an eternal view. Put Jesus Christ first because your eternal life is dependent upon your faith in Him and in His Atonement. It is also dependent upon your obedience to His laws. Obedience paves the way for a joyful life for you today and a grand, eternal reward tomorrow” (“Think Celestial!,” Liahona, Nov. 2023, 12).
Faith comes to us through the gift of the Holy Ghost, and we receive the gift of the Holy Ghost by obedience to God’s laws and commandments. Sin destroys faith. Prayer and repentance will keep faith strong.
We read in 3 Nephi 5:3 that certain Nephites and Lamanites held firm to their faith: “They did forsake all their sins . . . and did serve God with all diligence day and night.” How they stayed strong when others were losing their faith is found in 3 Nephi 6:14: They were “converted unto the true faith; and they would not depart from it, for they were firm, and steadfast, and immovable, willing with all diligence to keep the commandments of the Lord.” They remained strong because they made a covenant with the Lord, and that covenant was more important to them than their own life.
Through the Book of Mormon, we learn that faith is strengthened by obedience, righteousness, repentance, seeking the Savior’s influence, serving God diligently, becoming firm and steadfast, keeping the commandments, and keeping our covenants with God.
There were many years in my life when I was a single mom, caring for five children at home and teaching 25 or more children at school. I knew the only way I could do this was with the help of the Lord. I hung on to the iron rod like I had never done before, combined with prayer and temple service. As I did this, I witnessed the hand of God in my life in many ways, great and small.
I know that as we seek to study and learn the lessons in the Book of Mormon, our faith will increase, and as difficult times arise, we will have the faith to get through them.

To illustrate this I would like to tell you of a struggle one family, who is dear to me, has experienced. This family has chosen to seek the light rather than let the darkness and evil of the world overcome their hearts.

Eric a senior at the local high school loved music. He played the piano, guitar and the cello. His home was often filled with the sound of him playing one of these instruments. He gave of himself to others with kind words and helping hands. He shared the talents and light that he had with everyone. Every day when he came home and before he went to bed, he would tell his mother he loved her. One spring day, Eric and his sister came home from school for lunch and interrupted a burglary in progress. Eric was shot and killed.

When the family was finally able to return to their home after this tragic event, some of the family members were reluctant to use the room where his death had occurred. Eric's mother told the family, "We can either think of this as the spot where Eric was shot, or we can think of this as holy ground, and we are going to think of it as holy ground."

Since that day, the family has remembered the lives Eric saved through his organ donation. They have celebrated Eric's love of music by awarding an annual music scholarship at his former high school. This past month over fifty family members and friends just finished participating in the 19th Annual Victory Over Violence Walk/Run with all proceeds being given to anti-violence programs in the community.

I quote from an address given by Eric's mother in Sacrament meeting on Easter 2013:

"Three years ago I stood at this podium and spoke to the ward. As I was speaking, I remember looking over and seeing my son Eric and his father sitting at the sacrament table. For some reason, that really touched me. In fact, I believe it was the only time they blessed the sacrament together. I remember thinking how lucky I was to be part of such a wonderful family. The following day, my daughter and Eric went home for lunch. Intruders were in our home. Luckily, my daughter escaped, but Eric did not."

This good mother continued by quoting from her favorite hymn, "I Know That My Redeemer Lives."

"'He lives to silence all my fears.'He lives to wipe away my tears.'He lives to calm my troubled heart.'He lives all blessings to impart.'[15]

"In my hour of deepest sorrow, I found peace from the words of the angel that first Easter morning: 'He is not here: for he is risen.'[16] Without this knowledge of the resurrection and without the knowledge that we can be reunited in the next life, I could not have born the loss.

"I know that my Redeemer lives. As President Monson said, 'This is the knowledge that sustains. This is the truth that comforts. This is the assurance that guides those who are bowed down with grief—out of the shadows and into the light.'"[17]

One weekend I woke up and was unable to hear in my left ear. I called an ear, nose, and throat doctor and made an appointment.
The doctor immediately sent me to an audiologist for a hearing test. I began to worry when I could not hear any of the test sounds in my left ear. At the end of the test, the audiologist concluded that I had sensorineural hearing loss, meaning a cranial nerve used in hearing was damaged.
I was shocked. I was only 26 years old and was already discussing the need for a hearing aid. One of my biggest passions is music. Would I still be able to play my instruments and sing?
The doctor prescribed a steroid to see if it would help, but he was positive my hearing loss was permanent.
My emotions soon got the better of me, and tears flooded my eyes. I was afraid of what the future would bring, and I was sad that I would never hear normally again.
That night my husband, Brian, suggested that he give me a priesthood blessing. I expected that the blessing would give me comfort and strength to deal with my hearing loss, but instead Brian promised in his blessing that my hearing would be fully restored. I couldn’t believe it.
“My husband must be mistaken,” I thought. The doctor had seen many cases like mine and said that my hearing would not return.
Afterward, I asked Brian if he thought the promised blessing was his will or the Lord’s. Brian told me he had felt a strong prompting to make the promise. I wasn’t convinced.
As I pondered my condition, I remembered a scripture in the book of Mark where Jesus tells a desperate father that “all things are possible to him that believeth.” The man responded, “Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief” (Mark 9:23–24). This was my plea to my Heavenly Father that night. I wanted to believe that I would be healed, but I was unsure. I lacked faith the Lord would help me in my crisis.
After my prayer I thought about a lesson I had taught the young women about the power of priesthood blessings. I had told the class to ask for blessings and that the Lord can heal the sick through blessings. How could I expect them to believe me if I lacked faith? I decided to put my trust in the Lord—He had not lied to me before.
Two weeks later, my hearing completely returned. The audiologist and doctor were shocked.
I will forever be grateful to Heavenly Father that my hearing was restored, but I am even more grateful for the lesson I learned. Even if it’s not always in the way we are promised in a blessing, I know the Lord will bless us if we put our faith and trust in Him.

A story is told of the son of King Louis XVI of France. As a young man, he was kidnapped by evil men when they dethroned the king. For six months he was exposed to every filthy and vile thing that life had to offer, yet he never buckled under the pressure. This puzzled his captors, and they asked him why he had such great moral strength. His reply was simple: “I cannot do what you ask, for I was born to be a king” (see Vaughn J. Featherstone, “The King’s Son,” New Era, Nov. 1975, 35). You were born to be daughters of a King. By being baptized, you have been promised the blessings of royalty as you sanctify yourselves and become holy.

Jacy stared at the night-light. It was too bright. She couldn’t sleep. She pulled her blanket over her eyes. Now it was too dark! She couldn’t sleep.
Jacy grabbed her teddy bear. It had a little bell inside that made noise. Jacy shook the bear. Ting, ting, ting went the bell. That didn’t help her sleep either.
She was so bored! There was no one to talk to! And it was too quiet and too dark.
Jacy started to cry. She would never fall asleep!
Just then her door opened softly.
“Jacy?”
It was Daddy! He came and sat by her on the bed. “What’s the matter?” Daddy asked.
“It’s too quiet! I can’t sleep. My brain just keeps thinking of things!” Jacy wiped the tears off her cheeks.
Daddy rubbed her back. “Sometimes when I can’t sleep, I sing my favorite song. And then I count my blessings.”
Daddy started singing. He sang, “Count your blessings, name them one by one. Count your blessings, see what God hath done.”
Jacy hummed along. She liked this song too.
“What are some of your blessings?” Daddy asked.
“Um, my teddy bear,” said Jacy. She waved the bear to make the bell jingle.
“That’s a good blessing,” said Daddy. “What else?”
“Daddy!” said Jacy. “Daddy is a blessing.”
That made Daddy smile.
“And Mommy,” said Jacy. “And baby Darel. He’s kind of a blessing.”
Daddy laughed. “How about your warm bed and your night-light?”
Jacy nodded. She was starting to feel sleepy.
Daddy pulled the blanket up to Jacy’s chin. “You are a blessing too, Jacy. I love you.” He gave her a kiss and closed the door behind him.
Jacy hummed the song again. “Count your blessings, count your blessings …”
And soon she was fast asleep.

Sometime ago when one of my daughters had her first baby and I was feeling a renewed reverence for that miracle of birth, I said to my daughter, “If I had a chance to do one thing over again with my children, I would read to them more from the scriptures while they were infants.”

My daughter’s face brightened, and she said, “Michael’s already in 2 Nephi. Dan has been reading to him every night since we came home from the hospital.” Jane later mentioned that story time had become her favorite time of the day—a bonding time, a caring time, an environment of trust where little Michael had heard the entire Book of Mormon before he was a year old.

A few months later Dad was at it again. It began when a notice came in the mail that one of the senators from our state, Senator Brown, would be in town to give a lecture about what was going on in Washington, D.C. When Dad mentioned that he was going to call this senator and invite him to dinner, we all begged him not to do it. Mom said senators don’t have time for such things. But Dad was undaunted (that’s one of the week’s vocabulary words) and called the senator’s office. He even got to talk to the senator.
The senator said he was sorry, but all his evenings were busy, so he couldn’t come to dinner. Now my dad is a quick thinker and just like he’d planned it, he said, “Well, then, how about coming to breakfast?”
Senator Brown is no match for my Dad, and he certainly was not prepared for that and couldn’t think of an excuse fast enough, so he said, “Yes.” He actually said he would come.
Before he came you can imagine what we had to learn. Did you know there are 435 congressmen in the House of Representatives, 100 senators in the Senate, that a senator is elected to a term of six years and a congressman for two? We were crammed full of facts, and we got Mom’s now famous manners and etiquette review.
The morning the senator came, a newspaper reporter did too. The reporter took our pictures with Senator Brown and wrote down all about how the senator was having breakfast with this family. It was kind of embarrassing and was even more embarrassing when the picture and article were in the newspaper.