Gospel Story Finder

But where does man’s research go from there? He seems to analyze the physical nature very well, but he is lost as to his ultimate destiny. There is, of course, danger in such a course, researched wholly from a scientific or biological viewpoint. And I say danger advisedly, to the extent that the real purpose of man’s creation and his identity as an external being is lost. I say this because I once heard a professor say to me that he had difficulty in maintaining his testimony because he knew too much, indicating that he had some conflict between his intellectual genius and his spiritual nature. Perhaps this is what J. Golden Kimball referred to when he said, “They are educated beyond their intelligence.”

Fortunately, I know that that professor weathered the storm in his soul. He is now a patriarch and could not function in that office without a strong spiritual conviction. But we must always remember the possibility of being caught up so much in the academic to the point where it might obliterate the reality of God.

Several months after my baptism, my younger brother, Oswaldo, joined another church and actively participated in its congregation. But I wanted Oswaldo to know what I knew to be true. In particular, I wanted him to connect with the words of the prophets.
Each month, when I received the Liahona magazine, I would share it with Oswaldo. I suggested that some of the topics in the magazine could help him prepare for meetings in his church. I was pleased when he accepted my suggestion. Many years went by, however, and I was saddened to see that my brother would not accept the restored gospel of Jesus Christ.
One morning, Oswaldo told our family that he was planning to leave our home in Ecuador and travel to Switzerland. He accepted a blessing from me the day he departed. It was an emotional moment for me because the Spirit whispered to my heart that this journey would bring Oswaldo closer to the Savior and to His Church.
In Switzerland, Oswaldo met the missionaries and eventually invited them to his home. Over time he established a close friendship with them. But he told me that if the missionaries brought up the topic of baptism, he would no longer receive them. Imagine my surprise and joy when I received an email from him telling me that he was getting baptized. I had joined the Church in 1981. Oswaldo was baptized 20 years later, in May 2001. He received his endowment in July 2002, and he was sealed to his wife in February 2003.
When Oswaldo returned to Ecuador, he bore his testimony in a sacrament meeting. With tears in his eyes, he said, “My brother shared the words of the prophets with me. These words inspired me as I prepared for meetings in the church I attended before, and many people were edified this way. The words of the prophets changed my life. Through them, I came to know that the gospel of Jesus Christ is again upon the earth in its fulness, with power and authority.”
In February 2011, Oswaldo and I were sealed to our parents in the Guayaquil Ecuador Temple. The words of prophets have blessed our family for eternity.

Chung walked down a busy street in Taiwan. His friend Jiro was close beside him. People were everywhere! Shoppers looked at clothes for sale, kids played games, and people hurried by talking on their phones. Chung held tight to his school bag to make sure he didn’t drop it.
“I can’t believe the school year is almost over!” Chung said loudly so Jiro could hear.
“I know! I’m ready to be done with classes,” Jiro said.
Chung and Jiro passed stands that sold all kinds of foods. Dragon fruit and strawberries. Sizzling dumplings. Peanut ice-cream rolls. Delicious smells were everywhere! But all Chung could think about was how hot and sticky he felt.
“I feel like I’m in an oven!” Chung said.
“Me too,” Jiro said. “Let’s buy some drinks.”
They made their way to a stand selling brightly colored drinks.
Jiro pulled out some money. “Two boba teas, please.”
Chung knew that tea was against the Word of Wisdom. “Actually, could I have a mango juice?” he asked.
Jiro turned to look at Chung. Chung’s stomach squirmed. Did Jiro think he was weird for not getting tea?
The woman handed a cold boba tea to Jiro and a mango juice to Chung. Then the boys walked back into the street toward their homes.
Jiro slurped his drink. “Why didn’t you want tea? It’s so good!”
Chung bit his lip. “Um, I don’t drink tea.”
“Why not?”
Chung thought about how to answer the question. The missionaries had taught him about the Word of Wisdom. In his Primary class he’d learned that keeping the Word of Wisdom helped him have the Holy Ghost with him.
“I believe in God, and He wants me to take care of my body. He asks that we don’t drink tea or coffee or alcohol,” Chung said.
“How do you know that?” Jiro asked.
“I learned about it at church.”
Jiro took another sip of his drink. “That seems silly. It’s just tea! It won’t hurt you.”
Chung’s stomach felt like it was full of jumping frogs. How could he help Jiro understand? Maybe someone at church could help him explain it to Jiro.
“Would you like to come to church with me sometime? I go to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. You could learn about God and Jesus Christ.”
Jiro thought for a moment. “I don’t think so.”
“OK,” said Chung. He felt a little sad that Jiro didn’t want to come to church with him. But he was still glad he had shared his testimony.
Later that week at school, Chung’s teacher, Mr. Lin, called for everyone’s attention. “Tomorrow is the last day of class. Because everyone has worked so hard this year, I have a surprise. We will all be having boba tea!”
The whole class cheered. Everyone except Chung. He slid down in his seat. Telling his teacher he didn’t drink tea would be even harder than telling Jiro! Everyone would think that was weird, just like Jiro did.
Jiro raised his hand. “Mr. Lin? Chung doesn’t drink tea. It’s a part of his religion. Could he have a mango juice instead?”
Mr. Lin turned to Chung. “Is that true, Chung?”
Chung nodded.
Mr. Lin smiled. “OK. I’ll order you juice instead.”
After school, Chung and Jiro walked home together. “Thanks for doing that,” Chung said.
Jiro smiled. “You’re my friend. If something is important to you, then it’s important to me.”

Often those who change the course of your life are leaders who have a Christlike ability to see you the way the Lord sees you. Whilst presiding at stake conference recently I greeted a brother in the foyer who introduced himself as Bishop Ormsby. This is a very common name in the Church, and I enquired who his father was. His dad, whom I hadn’t seen in probably 45 years, had been in my ward’s bishopric when I was a deacon and a teacher.
I remember this elder Brother Ormsby as diligent, interested, kind and present. He often provided rides to service projects and meetings. By then, my mother was raising us on her own and had to go out to work each day, so she depended upon the ward leaders like Brother Ormsby to fill in the gaps. Bishop Ormsby reported that his father was still alive, and I asked that he let his dad know how much I appreciated his influence. I was able to meet with Brother Ormsby the following week and I expressed my gratitude to him in person. He said something to the effect that he saw in me and my brother something beyond our youthful misbehaviour.
I am so grateful for Brother Ormsby. He exemplified the many servants of God who treat people as who they can become.

Over the 2020 Christmas period I was given an opportunity to participate, as a service missionary, in Cardiff Stake’s ‘Help for Refugees’ projects.
Necessities were packed and prepared for approximately 150 refugees at the local centre. When delivering the packages, it was very heartwarming to see the reactions of those involved, as to what was being delivered to the centre and the sheer amount. There was even a box of cuddly bears for children.
I am grateful to have had the opportunity to work alongside so many caring and compassionate people. It was a joy, that couldn’t be found anywhere else, such as when young men are so happy to see nappies for their children, and to hear their expressions of thanks.

I’m an 18-year-old girl living in Germany. Last year we had an American girl who stayed with us for some time, and she was a Mormon. I was impressed by that girl and the way she managed her life. Then she told me about the Mormons. Even though I had never heard about that religion, I immediately understood her. From that time on I have been very interested in Mormonism, and what I have found out about it is fantastic! I’m still not a member, but that is because of my mother. She doesn’t want me to join the Church. I thought about being just nothing—an atheist—but I soon found out that I became very superficial and that I needed something to believe in. I’m convinced that being a Mormon would be the best for me. I have received this fantastic magazine for half a year now as a gift from the American girl, and it has helped convince me. It’s the best magazine I have ever read. I want to thank you because it has helped me find my way and understand other people better. It has made me a better girl, a girl who thinks about life and faces problems and is not superficial. Since there are no Mormons in my town, my only information comes from you.
Tina StrickWeeze, Germany

Elder Neil L. Andersen and his wife, Kathy, visited the Democratic Republic of the Congo in Africa. They had a Church meeting outside under tents. Around the tents was a big fence. Elder Andersen could see children watching them from the other side of the fence. Kathy asked him, “Neil, do you think you might want to invite the children to come in?” Elder Andersen walked up to the man at the microphone. He asked the man to invite the children to come in and join them.
The children came running! They were all smiling and excited to be a part of the meeting.

About a year ago, I visited with a mother of young children who decided to take a proactive approach to inoculating her children against the many negative influences they were being exposed to online and at school. She chooses a topic each week, often one that has generated a lot of discussion online, and she initiates meaningful discussions during the week when her children can ask questions and she can make sure they’re getting a balanced and fair perspective on the often-difficult issues. She is making her home a safe place to raise questions and have meaningful gospel instruction.

Ivor, my third son, was still living in the village. He was destined not to be with me long. He had been born two months early and was so tiny that his mother carried him on a pillow. He grew to manhood but suffered from a heart disease. He was the poet in the family, and even though his health was poor he was always happy. I can hear him yet as he sang to the trees in the woods that bordered our home. I remember that just a few days before his heart failed him that we walked together up into the meadow and we looked across the valley. He took my hand in his and spoke softly. “Listen, Dad,” and across the valley came the plaintive call of a cuckoo bird. “Isn’t it lovely? The cuckoo tells of the coming spring, and soon the meadow will be white with daisies, and the birds will sing joyful tunes. Oh, Dad, its a grand world that God has given us.”
He died in his sleep and was buried beside his mother in the little cemetery on the hill.
The funeral was quite an event in our village. It was the first Latter-day Saint funeral ever conducted there. Many people came out of curiosity, but most came because Ivor was loved and respected. Mr. Jones, the undertaker, in his black suit and top hat drove the wagon with the casket with a pair of black horses.
It was only a short distance to the cemetery, and the mourners walked behind the wagon. Soon the villagers started to sing. At first their voices were quiet like the summer breeze on the mountains. Then as the words came, “Feed me till I want no more,” their voices raised in a great crescendo like waves breaking on a rocky shore. Oh, my people from whom I came, your songs of mourning are still in my heart, and I know that my son and my Bess heard.

Some time ago, I was assigned to preside over a regional conference in La Paz, Bolivia. La Paz is high in the Andes mountains, at an elevation of approximately 12,000 feet. Members came to the conference from small towns and villages scattered throughout the area of La Paz and the Altiplano.

Great sacrifice and commitment were required for some of these members to attend the meetings. Prior to the leadership training session, I stood in front of the stake center and greeted the brethren as they gathered. I greeted one older brother who told me through an interpreter that he lived a long way from La Paz. I noticed that his shirt was a different color from about the middle of his chest down. The upper portion of his shirt was white, while the lower portion was a brownish-red color.

I learned that he and three of his companions, all Melchizedek Priesthood holders, had taken more than eight hours to travel to these meetings. They had walked most of the way and had to ford two rivers where the brownish-red water came up to their chests. When they came to the main road to La Paz, they flagged down a truck and stood in the back of it for the last two hours to the stake center.

I could hardly believe that anyone would have such commitment, faith, and courage. When I expressed my deep concern for this dear brother, he said, “Brother Ballard, you are an Apostle of the Lord Jesus Christ. I would walk as long as required, ford as many streams as required, to come and hear from you what the Lord wants me to do as a priesthood leader in the Church.”

This response brought tears to my eyes. We embraced one another in the special brotherhood of the priesthood of God. I also learned that they had not had anything to eat, nor did they have any place to stay that night. Through the goodness of the Saints of La Paz, they were taken care of during the conference weekend.

I was wondering if The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is true. I prayed about it on Saturday night and didn’t get an answer that night. On Sunday morning I prayed about it again, and right when I said the words “The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints,” my heart got very warm. I felt the Holy Ghost say to me, “Yes, it is the true church.”Audrey Jensen, age 8, South Euclid, Ohio

When I was a little girl, my father sat at the foot of my bed at night and taught my sister and me that we had lived with our Heavenly Father before the world was, that we had made a choice to obey God’s commandments and to reject Satan. He taught us that Satan rejoices when we disobey Father. I made a determination then as a very young child that I wanted my Heavenly Father to rejoice over me, not Satan. That commitment has had a very powerful effect on my life.

The Mia Maids in the Anchorage Eighth Ward, Anchorage Alaska Stake, turned Halloween into a money-making activity by selling ghost insurance to ward members and friends. If an insuree’s home or car became the target of a prank like soaped windows, splattered eggs, or toilet papering, the Mia Maids cleaned up the results of the Halloween tricks.
With the money they earned, they are helping to support a missionary from their ward.

Annette was excited when she got a part in the musical her city’s community theater was putting on. She sang in two numbers and had lines to memorize! The rehearsals had taken up a lot of her summer, but Annette didn’t mind because everything about being in a play was fun.
There were three other children in the play—two girls and a boy. Because they were in only three scenes, she and the other children had lots of time to explore the theater while they weren’t rehearsing. They looked in prop rooms and costume rooms and watched people building and painting sets. Heather, who was the oldest, had been in plays before, and she knew her way around backstage.
On the night before the play opened, Heather said to Annette, “Come see what I have!”
Annette followed her. She couldn’t wait to see what Heather would show her.
“Look, someone put free sodas here for us,” Heather said, showing her a small refrigerator in a room that looked like an office.
In the refrigerator were some bottles of Annette’s favorite soda. She was really thirsty, and the drinks looked delicious.
“Go ahead, take one,” Heather said.
“I don’t know …” Annette said. She just wasn’t sure about this.
“It’s OK. They mean for us to take them. I’ve come here before to get one. No one said anything.”
So Annette decided it must be OK. She opened a bottle of soda and took a big drink. It tasted wonderful.
“Let’s go finish these in the restroom,” Heather said.
That seemed strange to Annette. But Heather was older, so Annette followed her to the restroom stalls to drink their sodas.
When Annette realized that they were hiding, she began to wonder if they were doing something wrong. Were they not supposed to take the sodas? She began to worry. After the dress rehearsal was over, even the applause couldn’t get rid of the sick feeling in her stomach.
The next day Annette wasn’t excited about going back for opening night. All the way to the theater, she thought about the soda she had taken. Before she got out of the car, she told her mom about what happened.
“Do you think they really were for us?” Annette asked. She hoped her mother would say yes so she could feel better again.
“How do you feel about it?” Mom asked.
“I feel terrible.”
“That’s the Holy Ghost telling you that you did something wrong.”
“But I can’t put the soda back! What do I do now?” Annette asked.
“Well, you can pray and ask for forgiveness. After the performance you can show me where you found the drinks, and I’ll find out who they belonged to. Then you can pay for the drink with your allowance.”
Annette bowed her head right then and said a silent prayer. In her prayer she said she was sorry she had taken something that didn’t belong to her. After the prayer she felt better.
“I’m very proud of you, Annette,” Mom said.
“You are?”
“Yes. Even though Heather told you it was the right thing to do, you listened to the Holy Ghost telling you that it wasn’t. We all make mistakes. But learning how to repent is an important part of growing up. Now, go break a leg.”
Annette laughed. “Break a leg” is what people in the theater say to wish someone good luck.
“I will,” Annette said as she waved goodbye to her mom. While she put on her makeup and costume, she felt happy. She had learned a lot more than how to be a good actress this summer.

Again, looking for a job is not that fun – be patient and stay close to your Heavenly Father. Follow the Spirit.

Meanwhile one of the production lines we had built two years earlier had not started up because of a product design problem. The design issue was finally fixed and the line had started up. One of my old bosses was finishing the effort and was having trouble completing the project. I was called and asked to clean up the remaining issues, collect our payment and get us out of the plant. I went to the plant and we quickly demonstrated the capability of the new line and agreed on payment. During that process the plant manager and I got along very well. After I returned home we had several conversations and he finally called on a Wednesday afternoon and asked me to head up his engineering department and to be at his staff meeting on Friday morning. It was a great opportunity to get fully entrenched in the automotive industry. I was delighted. I packed up and went to work. I have a great respect for responsiveness, whether it be in returning phone calls or accepting a new assignment especially when directed by the spirit. We spent the next three years expanding the plant twice, putting in 24 production lines and increased our sales by a factor of 14.

But this isn’t the end. During a casual phone conversation with a senior staff member I found that the company was planning to put a new plant in Europe. I expressed my interest and in a year found myself in England as a plant manager in charge of starting up a new plant. Again, my earlier desires to be associated with a European plant were met by something better. In the next three years we bought land, designed a plant, hired and trained the team, built the plant and production equipment and started up production for a new technology air bag inflator. It was a successful and rewarding experience.

My mother died when I was a young mother. I still needed her counsel and advice. After her cancer was diagnosed, she lived only six weeks. Initially, my concern was for my father. I felt grateful that Mom had not suffered long and that her death had been a sweet experience for us. But a few weeks later Mother’s Day and her birthday were coming, and I began to miss her terribly. I wanted her arms around me, and I wanted to know that she was all right. I wanted to tell her that I loved her and missed her.
One night as I was praying and crying (which I did often then), I felt comfort fill my body—suddenly and powerfully. The feeling restored me; it gave me peace. It did not last long physically, yet it was immensely comforting. I knew what it was—the Lord’s love encircling me and granting me peace and strength. But just as important, that moment has remained in my memory as a sweet gift to unwrap and remember when life is difficult.

As a young boy living in Mexico, I was given the job of watching our cattle in the field as they grazed. One day I became bored with this chore and went to play, leaving the cattle unattended. I played all day, returning to my chore only when it began to get late.
As I approached the field, I realized that the cattle were gone! I could picture my father’s face—how disappointed and angry he would be! I was his eldest son. He had taught me to be responsible, and he was proud of me. How would he feel about me now? Quickly I searched for the cattle from one end of the field to the other. I couldn’t find them anywhere!
As I wondered what to do, I remembered something my father had taught me—if I ever needed help, I could pray to my Father in Heaven, and he would help me. I needed help then! I knelt and asked Heavenly Father to help me find the cattle. Then, sure that I would find them, I searched again.
But the cattle were nowhere to be found! I became angry. I had prayed, as my father had taught me. Why hadn’t Heavenly Father answered my prayer?
I stormed home. I had almost forgotten about the cattle and how upset my father would be. I wanted to know why my prayer hadn’t been answered. My father listened patiently as I explained what had happened. In his wise way, he asked me what I would have done the next day if Heavenly Father had helped me find the cattle. “Would you leave the cows again, thinking that your Father in Heaven would find them for you?”
After some thought, I replied, “Yes, that is probably what I would do.”
My father told me to kneel again—this time to ask for forgiveness and to promise that I would never again leave the cattle to go and play. I did as he said. Then, humbly, I once more asked Heavenly Father to help me find the cows. With my father by my side, I returned to the field and found the cattle there.
I learned an important lesson that day. Heavenly Father does not give us what we want just because we want it. He answers our prayers when we have done our part. And he answers them in a way that will help us become better people.

In 1945, Cynthia Mallory obtained a summer job at a tourist lodge in southern Utah as a way to earn enough money to help her through her third year of college. Several of her fellow workers, also college students, were members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. When they invited her to join a weekly discussion group to talk about religion, Cynthia, who was not a member of the Church, accepted because she had let her spiritual life give way to other interests during her years away from home. The group was small, led by a seminary teacher working for the summer as a tour bus driver.
She listened to the discussions and was fascinated by them but had no thought of changing religions—until they discussed the Holy Ghost. Cynthia walked to a grassy open space near the lodge, where she determined to test the promise made to her that if she would pray to the Father in the name of Jesus Christ to know the truth, she would be answered through the power of the Holy Ghost. It was dark, but the lights from the lodge made her feel safe as she knelt in the shadows to pray. Even before she finished asking the question, a light seemed to be turned on within her. The answer came clearly: what she had heard about Jesus Christ was true!
The direction of Cynthia’s life changed in that moment. She knew what to do: she would be baptized. She was exhilarated to realize that, guided by an unseen hand, she had made her first independent decision. Sensing the Savior’s approval and love, she resolved to keep his commandments.
Today, Cynthia remains devoted to the Lord and his gospel. Her testimony, strengthened by the Holy Ghost, is an ever increasing source of joy.

I know that from my own experience. I remember when I was a boy of 15 and we had been expelled from Mexico in the revolution. My folks went to Los Angeles from El Paso, Texas. I got a job there among a bunch of Mormon-haters, and I didn’t tell them that I was a Mormon. Sometime after that, President Joseph F. Smith came to Los Angeles and had dinner with my parents—a very humble dinner; I can remember that it was very scant. He put his hand on my head and said, “My boy, don’t ever be ashamed that you are a Mormon.”
You know, I have worried all my days that I didn’t have the courage to stand up to those ribald men.

My first assignment was the Ashtabula Ward, part of the Kirtland stake. On our way to my first area, my companion, Elder Shawn Patrick Murphy, and I stopped at the Newel K. Whitney store in Kirtland. Today there is a large visitors’ center there, but at the time it was a small place. I remember walking up the stairs to the room above the store where Joseph Smith held the School of the Prophets. I knew little of the history of the place, but I still felt something distinct as we entered that plain room with its simple wooden benches.
The director of the center was a former mission president, President Brewer. As he spoke about this place where the Brethren studied and learned together, I felt the Spirit deeply. I began to see the role Kirtland played as a hinge point in the history of the Church.
In the early 1830s, Independence, Missouri, was identified as the site of the New Jerusalem. The Saints had begun to settle there. But they were then forced out because of differences with other Missouri residents and opposition to the Saints’ beliefs. In 1834, Joseph organized a group of about 230 men, women, and children, later known as Zion’s Camp. They were to travel 900 miles (1,450 km) from Ohio to Missouri to help the Saints regain land they had legally purchased. The journey was not successful in getting the land back, but it created a setting that helped prepare many future leaders of the Church, including Church Presidents Brigham Young and Wilford Woodruff.
It wasn’t just the preparation of leaders that was important. The sanctifying effect of Zion’s Camp prepared a people who were willing to sacrifice to build a temple.
In Kirtland, the Prophet received revelation after revelation about the organization of the Church, all in preparation for what would be the crowning achievement—the building of the temple.1 And sacrifice literally brought forth the blessings of heaven.2 The Saints were so poor they could hardly afford the necessities of life. Yet they consecrated their time, talents, and possessions—the very covenant we make in the temple today—to build the house of the Lord.
Today the Kirtland Temple is owned and maintained by another church—the Community of Christ. When a guide from that church took us through the building, I felt the Spirit as he quoted from journals of those who witnessed marvelous events at the temple’s dedication. These events included seeing angels and the temple seeming to be ablaze with light.3 The Spirit confirmed to me that this had indeed been a house of God.
I served in the Ashtabula Ward for seven months. Almost every preparation day, we took those we were teaching to visit the Newel K. Whitney store and talk about the Kirtland Temple. Many times we recited the inspiring account of Christ’s appearance at the temple:
The Lord Appears in the Kirtland Temple, by Del Parson
“His eyes were as a flame of fire; the hair of his head was white like the pure snow; his countenance shone above the brightness of the sun; and his voice was as the sound of the rushing of great waters, even the voice of Jehovah, saying:
“I am the first and the last; I am he who liveth, I am he who was slain; I am your advocate with the Father” (Doctrine and Covenants 110:3–4).
In addition to the Savior, others also visited the temple—Moses, Elias, and Elijah. They committed to Joseph keys for the gathering of Israel, the dispensation of the gospel of Abraham, and temple and family history work. (See Doctrine and Covenants 110:10–16.)
Because these visitations are so significant, I think we sometimes overlook the significance of other things that also occurred. In the dedicatory prayer, Joseph Smith addressed the Lord God of Israel, “who keepest covenant and showest mercy,” and pleaded with the Lord to “accept the dedication of this house unto thee, the work of our hands, which we have built unto thy name” (Doctrine and Covenants 109:1, 78).
By appearing in answer to that prayer, Jesus Christ, as the mouthpiece of God the Father, showed that He accepted His house, the ordinances that would be performed there, and the covenants that would be made there. That acceptance has been granted to every temple that has been dedicated since then, as well as to the covenants made and ordinances performed in those temples.
In the dedicatory prayer, Joseph also specifically asked the Lord to bless those who served in presidencies, as well as their families. Today, those blessings are extended to Relief Society presidents, quorum presidents, Young Women presidents, stake presidents, mission presidents, and so on. (See Doctrine and Covenants 109:71.) Then Joseph asked the Lord to “remember all thy church, O Lord, with all their families … that thy church may come forth out of the wilderness of darkness, and shine forth” (Doctrine and Covenants 109:72–73).
Joseph sought specific blessings for presidencies and their families, for members and their families, and for the Church as a whole. We regularly witness the fulfillment of those blessings as the Church shines forth as a light in the darkness.
The dedication of the Kirtland Temple exemplifies for me three basic truths:
We are blessed when we prepare for the temple. The Saints had to prepare for the Kirtland Temple to be built. They had to sacrifice, purify themselves, and develop willing hearts. We need to do the same to become more ready to receive blessings the Lord has for us.
We can receive revelation in the house of the Lord. The visions given to Joseph Smith and Oliver Cowdery in the Kirtland Temple provided guidance, direction, and understanding. On a personal level, we can also find inspiration when we go to the temple seeking answers.
We can find refuge in the temple. In a time of persecution and poverty, the Saints in Kirtland found that the house of the Lord was a sanctuary from the worries surrounding them. The same is true for us today.
Over the years, I have found that the things I learned about the temple as a young missionary in Ohio have blessed my family and me. For example, in the temple a year after we were married, my wife, Amy, and I received an impression that it was time to have a child. We were students, and because of tight finances I was tempted to cast the prompting aside. But the Lord was preparing us.
We had three miscarriages over the next two years, and I wondered, “Why the prompting to have children if we’re not able to have them?” Then we moved to California, worked with a fertility specialist, and finally had our first child, Mackenzie.
By following the inspiration we received in the temple, we began a process that took three years. If we had not followed the prompting when we did, it would probably have been at least another three years before we had our first child. We count that experience as a blessing of preparation and revelation.
We had a second child, Emma, but then we had another miscarriage and the loss of our son, Stewart. In subsequent months and years, as we sought peace, we learned that most of the symbols in the temple point us to the Savior and the healing balm only His Atonement can give.
I am grateful for the blessings of the temple. I testify to you that it is a place of preparation, revelation, and peace.