Gospel Story Finder

The incident made news headlines around the world. A Latter-day Saint missionary had fallen off a 230-foot (70-m) cliff in Australia—and lived! That’s like falling from the top of a 23-story building.
Sometimes a miracle can be told in a single sentence. But for Elder Matthew Weirich—the missionary who fell—every detail of his story testifies to him that the Lord has a plan for his life that he has not yet completed.
Elder Weirich, from Fredricksburg, Texas, had just three months left of his missionary service in the Australia Sydney South Mission. On a preparation day in June 2004, Elder Weirich and three other missionaries got permission to visit a local park to see some of the animals unique to Australia. On the way back from the park they saw a sign pointing to the Grand Canyon lookout. It was close by, so they decided to stop and see what the Grand Canyon looked like in Australia. It is at this point that Elder Weirich’s memory of the day ends. Days later, in the hospital, he had to ask his companions what happened next.
The group had walked to the lookout and then followed marked paths below the lookout to some caves. The path had some crude rock steps back up to the lookout, and one of the missionaries lost a shoe that had been loosely tied. The shoe rolled partway down an incline. From his position Elder Weirich could see that the shoe was caught in a bush just a few steps from the path. It seemed easy to retrieve, and he offered to get it. His companions said that Elder Weirich called out that he had the shoe. Then they heard the noise of sliding rocks. Since they couldn’t see Elder Weirich, they didn’t know what had happened. But when he no longer answered their calls, they were afraid he had fallen.
The three missionaries looked as far over the cliff edges as they dared, then prayed and went looking for a cell phone to call the police. They heard a car door slam in the parking lot and ran to ask the man who had just arrived if he had a phone they could borrow. He did, and they called 000, the emergency number.
An hour later a rescue squad arrived just as darkness was falling. It was turning cold, and the heat-seeking helicopter flying overhead could find no sign of Elder Weirich. Everyone was afraid there was no longer a survivor to rescue.
But they were wrong.
At dawn the next day searchers made their way to the bottom of the cliff. They found Elder Weirich, alive but semiconscious. They carefully loaded him into a stretcher and flew him out by helicopter. He was taken to the hospital, where the medical staff expected to work on someone with many broken bones and other serious injuries. It turned out Elder Weirich had some swelling in his brain, but the only broken bones were his nose and two small fractures above his eye, all of which were left alone to heal.
Looking back, Matt lists the miracles that helped him survive.
Before his mission, Matt had been a pole-vaulter. In fact, he was a national champion in high school and was planning on going to college on a track scholarship. Perhaps—although Matt can’t remember exactly what he did while falling—his training took over and helped him adjust as he fell so he landed in a way that reduced his injuries.
At the top part of the cliff he hit several ledges that slowed him down, evidenced by the scrapes and cuts on his arms, before he took the final 90-foot (27-m) free fall.
The weather had been below freezing every night. But on the night he spent at the bottom of the cliff, the temperature was 10 degrees warmer than usual and did not dip below freezing.
He crawled a few feet after he landed, his head ending up downhill, which may have helped maintain good circulation to his injuries.
He was rescued by experts and given excellent medical care.
His survival story created great interest throughout Australia. Suddenly people everywhere wanted to talk to missionaries. Doors were opened. Many people wondered why this apparent miracle had happened and were asking searching questions about God and the Church this missionary represented.
Matt found other blessings from this experience. He says, “This whole event has brought me closer to my family and has helped me understand the value of life. It is more than just living day-to-day or thinking that you’ll be able to make up for mistakes later.
“I have stopped asking why. I’m now asking, ‘What can I learn from this?’ All I know is that I was an instrument in the Lord’s hands. I have seen some of the effects on other people. I’ve come to the conclusion that the Lord has things for me to accomplish. When temptations come my way, I realize that I wasn’t saved to fall into sin. I have to remember that the Lord has a plan for us all.”
Matt Weirich has returned from his mission. He has recovered and is a pole-vaulter on the track team at Brigham Young University, where he continues his studies.

Life was still difficult, so much so that I left home for a brief time to give myself moments of reflection. I went to a friend’s house outside of Abidjan. One day around 6 am, a voice said to me: “Get up quickly and join your children in Abidjan”.
When I arrived, my children taught me that they should be baptized at The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, whose missionaries had previously taught my children, but to whom I paid little attention because I was not attracted to religions. I was therefore invited to attend the baptism of my children at the Quatre Etages Ward.
Bishop Etian’s speech had a positive impact on me. It was the story of the “King with the Severed Finger” told by Muslim folk wisdom. A king had a finger cut off during the hunt and imprisoned his advisor who told him to let Allah (God) prevail in all things. Sometime later the king and his retinue were captured in the bush by cannibals who did not want him because of his disability. He was therefore the only one released and his life spared. He ran to deliver his servant, apologizing profusely. The latter replied that God is never wrong and that everything works together for our good. He said, “If you hadn’t put me in jail, I would be with you, captured, devoured by the cannibals, and probably dead today.”
From that moment on, I made a firm resolution to take my life and that of my children totally into my own hands by being baptized. From then on, I decided to forgive my husband for the wrongs I had suffered. My husband is still not in our home, but I have a more brotherly and kinder relationship with him through the power of forgiveness. I undertook income-generating activities that have allowed me to provide for my family and especially to ensure the schooling of my children for more than 15 years. Today, two of my daughters are starting careers as teachers in public schools. My last son has just been admitted to the university for which I am looking for ways to finance the courses. They make me proud. I have been able to go to the Accra Ghana Temple where I was endowed and sealed to my deceased parents.
I hope one day to be able to remarry in the temple to have an eternal marriage. The lessons I draw from my life is that everything works together for the good of one who believes in God.

Seventeen-year-old Brittany Crossley and her thirteen-year-old sister, Danielle, live in Vidor, Texas. Their father is an emergency room doctor at a hospital in Port Arthur, directly in the projected path of Hurricane Rita. Dr. Crossley prayed and felt impressed that if he would spend the day before the storm evacuating patients, he and his family would be all right. Since the Crossley’s home was in an area of potential danger, he obtained permission from his bishop for the family to stay in their ward building during the storm. “The ward is far enough north to be safe,” Brittany explains.

“When Dad said, ‘We’re going to the church and we’re going to be okay,’ I thought, ‘Trust the inspiration and follow him to higher ground,’” Danielle recalls. Soon they received calls that the mass evacuation had resulted in gridlock on the freeway. “It’s good that we listened to our father,” Brittany says. “Otherwise, we would have been stuck in traffic all through the storm.”

So they “hunkered down” at the church, in an inside room with no windows. “We had food and water. We played a board game to pass the time. At 11:00 p.m., the power went out, so we read scriptures by flashlight and had family prayer,” Danielle recalls. They listened to the wind rattling like a freight train. “At one point someone held a flashlight high so we could all see each other,” Brittany says. “I remember how grateful we were for the light. It made me think of the Savior, the Light of the World.”

That trust has blessed my life and the lives of my family. Years ago I heard President Ezra Taft Benson speak in a conference like this. He counseled us to do all we could to get out of debt and stay out. He mentioned mortgages on houses. He said that it might not be possible, but it would be best if we could pay off all our mortgage debt.9
I turned to my wife after the meeting and asked, “Do you think there is any way we could do that?” At first we couldn’t. And then by evening I thought of a property we had acquired in another state. For years we had tried to sell it without success.
But because we trusted God and a few words from the midst of His servant’s message, we placed a phone call Monday morning to the man in San Francisco who had our property listed to sell. I had called him a few weeks before, and he had said then, “We haven’t had anyone show interest in your property for years.”
But on the Monday after conference, I heard an answer that to this day strengthens my trust in God and His servants.
The man on the phone said, “I am surprised by your call. A man came in today inquiring whether he could buy your property.” In amazement I asked, “How much did he offer to pay?” It was a few dollars more than the amount of our mortgage.
A person might say that was only a coincidence. But our mortgage was paid off. And our family still listens for any word in a prophet’s message that might be sent to tell what we should do to find the security and peace God wants for us.

The girls decided to use this experience as a Personal Progress project. Each girl sewed her own bonnet as part of the authentic pioneer costume for the festival. They practiced for hours to memorize the story they had chosen—the story of Fanny Fry, who traveled with the George Rowley handcart company in 1859.
Fanny was separated from her family and endured hardships while crossing the plains. One day she fainted and was run over by her handcart. Thinking she was dead, the sisters began preparing her for burial. The Iowa Beehives love to tell how surprised those good sisters were when Fanny opened her eyes. Despite her injuries, Fanny pressed on and was later reunited with her sister.

Sometimes I have walked at dusk in the hills near my home. I watch the sun setting in the west over the lake and the shadows lengthening until the most familiar landmarks around me are gradually obscured in the darkness. I suddenly feel alone and a little unsure. But then a little miracle occurs. One by one the lights begin appearing—in the houses, along the streets—and even in the surrounding darkness, I regain my sense of direction. Reassured and cheered by their brightness, I make my way safely home.

I have always loved music and felt strength in the words of the hymns. Yet prior to my stroke, when I was called to be the ward’s Primary music leader, I was very apprehensive. How was I supposed to make a difference in the children’s lives? My music education background had taught me to set goals in my teaching, so I decided to try to help the children feel the Spirit as we sang. When we sang songs such as “I Lived in Heaven,” I was astonished by the strong presence of the Holy Ghost in the room and by the children’s deep, thoughtful questions about the lyrics.
One of my favorite teaching methods was using American Sign Language (ASL). I found that the children understood the songs better when we discussed how the signs offered a visual representation of the words. I really enjoyed hearing the children sing and watching them sign “I’m Trying to Be like Jesus.” The message rang true in my heart, and I often felt that I was the benefactor of the Spirit that the children invited. I could sense my testimony growing, and I truly felt blessed by the Lord.

My theory comes from thinking about many gifts and many holidays, but one day and one gift can illustrate it. The day was not Christmas nor even close to it. It was a summer day. My mother had died in the early afternoon. My father, my brother, and I had been at the hospital. As we walked out, my brother and I went to the car together, smiled, and looked up at the mountains. We remembered how Mother had always said she loved the mountains so much. He and I laughed and guessed that if the celestial worlds are really flat, like a sea of glass, she would be eager to get away to build her own worlds, and the first thing she’d build would be mountains. With that we smiled and got into the car and drove home. We went to the family home, and Dad met us there. There were just the three of us.

Friends and family came and went. In a lull, we fixed ourselves a snack. Then we visited with more callers. It grew late and dusk fell; I remember we still had not turned on the lights.

Then Dad answered the doorbell again. It was Aunt Catherine and Uncle Bill. When they’d walked just a few feet past the vestibule, Uncle Bill extended his hand, and I could see that he was holding a bottle of cherries. I can still see the deep red, almost purple, cherries and the shining gold cap on the mason jar. He said, “You might enjoy these. You probably haven’t had dessert.”

We hadn’t. The three of us sat around the kitchen table and put some cherries in bowls and ate them as Uncle Bill and Aunt Catherine cleared some dishes. Uncle Bill then asked, “Are there people you haven’t had time to call? Just give me some names, and I’ll do it.” We mentioned a few relatives who would want to know of Mother’s death. And then Aunt Catherine and Uncle Bill were gone. They could not have been with us more than twenty minutes.

Now, you can understand my theory best if you focus on one gift: the bottle of cherries. And let me explain this theory from the point of view of one person who received the gift: me. As we’ll see, that is crucial. What matters in what the giver does is what the receiver feels. You may not believe that yet, but trust me for the moment. So let’s start from inside me and with the gift of the bottle of cherries.

As near as I can tell, the giving and receiving of a great gift always has three parts. Here they are, illustrated by that gift on a summer evening.

First, I knew that Uncle Bill and Aunt Catherine had felt what I was feeling and had been touched. I’m not over the thrill of that yet. They must have felt we’d be too tired to fix much food. They must have felt that a bowl of home-canned cherries would make us, for a moment, feel like a family again. And not only did they feel what I felt, they were touched by it. Just knowing that someone had understood meant far more to me than the cherries themselves. I can’t remember the taste of the cherries, but I remember that someone knew my heart and cared.

Second, I felt the gift was free. I knew Uncle Bill and Aunt Catherine had chosen freely to bring a gift. I knew they weren’t doing so to compel a response from us. The gift seemed, at least to me, to provide them with joy just by their giving it.

And third, there was sacrifice. Now you might say, “Wait. How could they give for the joy of it and yet make a sacrifice?” Well, I could see the sacrifice because the cherries were home bottled. That meant Aunt Catherine had prepared them for her family. They must have liked cherries. But she took that possible pleasure from them and gave it to us. That’s sacrifice. However, I have realized since then this marvelous fact: It must have seemed to Uncle Bill and Aunt Catherine that they would have more pleasure if we had the cherries than if they did. There was sacrifice, but they made it for a greater return: our happiness. Most people feel deprived as they sacrifice to give another person a gift, and then they let that person know it. But only expert givers let the receiver sense that their sacrifice brings them joy.

“I was only able to attend one of the workshops,” said Donn Mason, “but it was great. It was Randy Bachman’s presentation on standards. He was more than what I expected. He’s a member of a popular singing group, you know, and when he came to the conference, I met him at the door and introduced myself. I asked him if he was ready and if there was anything we could help him with, and he said, ‘No, I just want a place where I can be alone to meditate and pray and get the direction I need for this workshop.’ Somehow I wasn’t expecting that. I mean, it was a real topper!”

“I attended Randy Bachman’s workshop too,” added Dwight Schmidt, a member of the central committee who had been inactive just seven months before. “The thing that really impressed me about him was that he is so spiritual. He talked about his career and some of the problems he’s had. He has had to go through a lot. The sacrifices that he has made for the gospel really taught me that if he can do it, I can do it.”

In June of 1986 I drove my mother to the Cardston Alberta Temple so she could receive her endowment. I had already received my endowment, but my nonmember husband and I lived in a remote part of British Columbia, and I had allowed my recommend to expire. Therefore, I was able to walk with my mother to the recommend desk but could follow her no further. I went outside, leaned against the temple wall, and cried.
After that experience, I determined never to be left outside of the temple again. My husband supported me in my decision, and I was soon attending the temple as frequently as I could. There I learned principles that made a profound difference in my personal life and in relationships with family and friends.

When I was a young father, after graduating from BYU–Hawaii, I moved my family to Maui. I had a job working for a non-profit organization, which was a good, steady job. However, after working there for a few years, I knew I didn’t want to do this job forever as my long-term career. I wanted something different. About this time, I had an opportunity to audition for a very successful music and dance production on Maui—you could say it was Hawaii’s equivalent of a Broadway production. Part of me was still very much a performer at heart. Because the show was successful, the cast was paid very well. I auditioned and was surprised to find out I got the job. I was excited but also unsure because of the impact this job would have on my family. It was excellent pay, but I would be away nights and weekends. I eventually made up my mind to take the job, do something I enjoyed doing, and provide for my family as well. But before I accepted, I decided to pray and ask the Lord if this was the right plan. When we go to the Lord for direction, we need to make sure that our hearts are in the right place to receive that direction. That we are willing to follow His promptings. Well, when I prayed to include the Lord in my planning, I received a surprising answer—my plan was not good and the Lord had a much different vision for me. I received the strong impression that I should go back to school and get my master’s degree. Now, confession time, I was not the best student with the highest GPA. Getting my bachelor’s degree was hard. When it was time to take tests I would study really hard and I felt like I understood the material, but something in my brain would go a little blank when I would have to sit down and take a test, and I never did as well as I did in the everyday classroom. One of the last things I wanted to do was go back for more schooling and more tests! I had my “dream job” right in front of me! It was an extremely difficult decision, but I ultimately chose to follow the Lord’s plan and not my own. As it turns out, unbeknownst to me, my wife’s plan was already aligned with the Lord’s because before I had fully decided what I was going to do, GMAT study books arrived at our house in the mail. She had ordered them weeks before! (Men, if you don’t know what the Lord’s plan is just ask your wife—she already has the answer.) After I aligned myself with the Lord’s plan for me, I applied for and was accepted into the MBA program at Hawaii Pacific University. Following the Lord’s plan also brought challenges. It meant moving to another island for my family, it meant my wife would need to find a job to support us while I went to school, and it meant uncertainty. The Lord’s plan for me didn’t happen smoothly. Each step of the way had obstacles to solve and overcome, but as my wife and I took each step - for me to apply, for her to find a job, for us to find a place to live - pathways and solutions opened up for us.

We moved from Maui to Oahu. We found a place to live. My wife was hired for an amazing job that was flexible and gave her a car to use as well! With preparation and work, everything for the Lord’s plan not only fell into place but it was better than I imagined. Eighteen months after I started school, I graduated with my MBA.

That decision to get a higher degree has directly impacted my career to this day. I learned through this experience that one of the most important elements of preparation is planning with the Lord, which also sometimes means that your own plan gets scraped and kicked to the curb.

It was the day before my football team’s first practice of the season. That night I was so excited I couldn’t sleep. I had saved up my money over the summer so I could pay all the fees myself. And now, at the age of 14, I was finally going to fulfill my dream.
During practice the next day, something really surprised me. It wasn’t how hard my coaches pushed us—I was expecting that. No, I was shocked at the filthy, vulgar language all the players and coaches were using. At first I tried to ignore it and not let it bother me, but after awhile it started to take its toll.
I found myself thinking those words, and even worse, repeating them when I was stressed. I prayed to my Heavenly Father and asked Him to help me be strong. Then, I made a promise to myself and to the Lord that I wouldn’t swear.
Later in the season we played a game against our biggest rivals. Right before the game started, our coach gathered us together to say a cheer. He told us the cheer that he wanted us to say, and unfortunately it required us to say a swear word. I remembered the promise that I made to myself and to Heavenly Father. I decided to say the cheer except for the swear word. I would just replace it with a more appropriate word.
When the cheer was over, the player next to me noticed what I had said and started to make fun of me. He went up to the coach and said, “Harsh is Mormon, and he’s not man enough to swear. He’s too churchy!”
I thought the coach would get mad at me or start to make fun of me as well, but instead he stood up for me and told my teammate, “Hey, leave Harsh alone. He has a lot of heart and can show you up on the football field any time!”
I was surprised. I thought my coach would respect me if I swore like everyone else. But actually, he respected me more because I was true to my standards.
I don’t know how big of an impact my example had on my teammates and coaches, but I realized later how strong that experience made me. Now, a few years later, it is easier for me to stand up for what I believe. I also realize that when we make a decision to obey the commandments, we are not alone. The Holy Ghost will help and support us through our trials.

Shortly after President Boyd K. Packer, President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, was called as a General Authority, he went to Elder Harold B. Lee (1899–1973) for counsel. President Packer recalled:
“He listened very carefully to my problem and suggested that I see President David O. McKay [1873–1970]. President McKay counseled me as to the direction I should go. I was very willing to be obedient but saw no way possible for me to do as he counseled me to do.
“I returned to Elder Lee and told him that I saw no way to move in the direction I was counseled to go. He said, ‘The trouble with you is you want to see the end from the beginning.’ I replied that I would like to see at least a step or two ahead. Then came the lesson of a lifetime: ‘You must learn to walk to the edge of the light, and then a few steps into the darkness; then the light will appear and show the way before you.’”2

When Elder Henry D. Taylor was a little boy living in Provo, Utah, he often walked across the lane from his home to his grandmother’s house. Whenever he visited her, she would offer him crackers, raisins, or other delicacies. “One day, however,” Elder Taylor recounts, “without waiting to be offered a treat, I reached into the box where the crackers were stored and, much to my amazement and anguish, put my hand into a mousetrap that had been set. This remains as one of my earliest recollections.”

Experience #4
Later in 2022, in our game vs Army, as always, I humbly but earnestly petitioned the Lord for help. This was another critical game. People might think it is strange or inappropriate to ask the Lord for help for a football game, but for me this was more than a football game; this was my life; this is what I did for a living; this is how I supported my family. These were more than football games for me and my family. I was pleading with the Lord for help with my job. I was seeking His guidance. The livelihood of my family and many other families were at stake.

One night during the week of the game I was awakened by a dream. For me it was a nightmare. In my dream I had a vision, and in this vision I saw the Army sidelines storm the field in celebration. I woke up and pleaded with the Lord, "Please no! I’ve given 25 years of my life to help build this program. I am doing everything you ask of me. I am honoring all of my covenants. I am faithfully serving as your stake president. Lord, please no." Then the impression came to my mind, "Lovest thou this, more than me?" In my mind I responded, "Lord Thou knowest that I love Thee more than this... but please no."

The game was close, as the Army games normally are. Early in the game I received a clear inspiration to call a play that we never even practiced that entire week. I was inspired to put in a player who wasn’t playing at the time. These clear, distinct impressions have happened several times during my career and they were always right and always had positive results. Well, the play worked perfectly. The player we put in the game ran untouched 75 yards for a touchdown! As I ran down the sidelines I said to myself, “Thank you, Lord! Thank you, Lord!” And then I heard a voice telling me, “I am here.” That gave me great peace again, thinking that meant we were going to win. Things looked promising. We were going in for the go-ahead touchdown in double overtime, but we fumbled the ball inches before the goal line. Army then kicked the game winning field goal. And then, their entire sidelines stormed the field in celebration. It was the exact same scene that I saw in my dream. As devastating as the loss was, I was comforted again because the Lord had already showed me earlier that week that we wouldn’t win. I was also comforted by the perfect play call knowing the Lord hadn’t totally abandoned me. He was still with me.

I was fired immediately after the game in the locker room. My wife and I decided that it was best that we left Annapolis and move closer to family. Thus, I would have to be released as stake president. As I met with the new stake president, a wonderful man, he told me that as he watched the Army-Navy game on TV that as soon as we fumbled the ball at the end of the game he received personal revelation that he was going to be called as the next stake president. It was a tender mercy from the Lord for both of us, to help us both recognize and both prepare ourselves for the will of the Lord.

One more story - President Isaia wanted to give some of his land to the Church to build a Chapel. The village Matai said he couldn't do that - only Catholics and the LMS were allowed in that village. President Isaia said it was his land and he could give it to the Church. Another long story shortened. The Matai had made it very clear the Chapel could not be built. A fourth and final letter was sent to President Isaia by a special messenger from the village's council of chiefs. The letter contained threats of what would happen if the construction went forward. Brother Isaia said, "I talked with my wife and children. My answer to the threats was that if I die, I die with a testimony of the Church. We prayed. I put on clean garments, I put on long pants instead of a lava lava because I did not want the villagers to see my garments. My brother and some others came with bush knives and said they would protect me. But I told them the Lord was watching." The villagers arrived about 12:00 pm in a pickup truck. They put me in the truck, tied me with ropes, and drove me to the village green. My hands and feet were tied. The young untitled men were instructed to collect wood. I still remember the faces of the two men who lit the fire...I was lying on the ground facing up. The firewood and dry coconut leaves were placed around me and on top of me. I could see through the pieces of wood the faces of those who were there...During this time I felt as if I was being held - as if I was being embraced. The wood was lit on fire and then it began to rain. They tried seven times to light the fire - I was like that about five hours."

I once heard a stake president mention the great success of one of his elders quorum presidents. He said, “His name is Hershel Pedersen. Perhaps you have heard of him. They used to call him ‘Bones’ when he played for BYU.” Well, I, along with many of you had heard of Brother Pedersen. As a matter of fact he grew up in my stake. He is one of the seven sons of Oliver Cowdery Pedersen, who all went on missions, most of them to Denmark. I heard his report when he returned from his mission, and I signed his temple recommend when he was married. So I was interested.

The stake president continued: “Brother Pedersen has committed himself to qualify every man in his quorum for a temple recommend. They are all qualified now except six.” Some time later when I was with the Church Home Teaching Committee, we remembered this story and asked Brother Pedersen to report on how his quorum had turned out. He said, “We got them all but three. Then they released me to become president of the stake mission. But since my release we got the other three.”

To illustrate this principle, let me share with you the words of President Henry B. Eyring on this subject from April Conference 2006:" Like you, I have felt what King Benjamin meant when he said that we could become like a little child before God. I have prayed, as you have, to know what to do when choices that I faced would have eternal consequences. Over many years I have seen a recurring pattern in the times when the answers to such a prayer have come most clearly.
Once, for instance, I prayed through the night to know what I was to choose to do in the morning. I knew that no other choice could have had a greater effect on the lives of others and on my own. I knew what choice looked most comfortable to me. I knew what outcome I wanted. But I could not see the future. I could not see which choice would lead to which outcome. So the risk of being wrong seemed too great to me.
I prayed, but for hours there seemed to be no answer. Just before dawn, a feeling came over me. More than at any time since I had been a child, I felt like one. My heart and my mind seemed to grow very quiet. There was a peace in that inner stillness.
Somewhat to my surprise, I found myself praying, "Heavenly Father, it doesn't matter what I want. I don't care anymore what I want. I only want that Thy will be done. That is all that I want. Please tell me what to do."
In that moment I felt as quiet inside as I had ever felt. And the message came, and I was sure who it was from. It was clear what I was to do. I received no promise of the outcome. There was only the assurance that I was a child who had been told what path led to whatever He wanted for me.
I learned from that experience and countless repetitions that the description of the Holy Ghost as a still, small voice is real....Only when my heart has been still and quiet, in submission like a little child, has the Spirit been clearly audible to my heart and mind."

We sat huddled on the wet lawn in front of the Joseph Smith Monument in Sharon, Vermont, draped in ponchos and plastic garbage bags in a vain attempt to keep dry. We strained to hear the speaker over the sound of the rain, as he explained to us the final activity of the wilderness youth conference we were taking part in.
In a few minutes, we would be sent off to be alone in the woods. We were given a list of things to do, including self-evaluation and scripture reading. The last thing we were to do, however, was what really excited me. Alone in the woods, we were to kneel and pray aloud to our Heavenly Father and ask if the Church was true.
Earlier, the speaker had related to us a story about David O. McKay receiving his patriarchal blessing. President McKay was, at the time, a champion marble player, an activity which, the speaker pointed out, required quite a bit of skill. After the blessing, however, the patriarch told 13-year-old David that he had more important things to do than play marbles. The speaker now gave to us that same wise counsel. “Brothers and sisters,” he pleaded, “please, put away your marbles, and take advantage of this opportunity to find out for yourself if the Church is true.”
It was almost silent as we entered the woods and began to break up into smaller and smaller groups. I think everyone could sense, as I did, the importance of what was about to happen. I pulled my poncho over me and took out the worksheet and program we had been given to write on. To begin my solo experience, I sang all of the songs on the program. After completing the other activities, I came to the prayer.
I was excited to pray, but I was also nervous because I had always thought that I would find out whether or not the Church was true when I was older; I had always put it off. I had felt the Spirit before in fast and testimony meetings and when I received a testimony of the Book of Mormon, but I couldn’t honestly say that I knew the Church was true. What if I prayed and there was just nothing? What if, out here in the woods, kneeling and praying aloud got me nothing but wet?
I decided that I’d never know unless I tried, so I knelt on the soggy leaves and bowed my head in prayer. I spoke in a whisper, fearful that someone might eavesdrop, and I asked very simply to know if I really belonged to God’s true church. I finished my prayer and remained kneeling to await an answer.
At first, I received an impression that I already knew the truth of those things. But I figured that must have been my own thoughts, so I prayed again.
“You already know,” came my answer, along with the warm and calm feeling of the Spirit that enveloped me with peace and joy.
My heart quickened, and I couldn’t hold back the smile that soon covered my face. I realized that through my seminary and personal study, I had built my testimony step by step, precept upon precept, so slowly that I didn’t even realize I had it until I put it to the test.
Now I knew that the Church was true and I could put away, or at least put aside, the less important things in my life and get on with my spiritual growth. I felt so relieved, so content, and so grateful that the Lord had taken the time to let me know personally that the Church was true. Already kneeling, I bowed my head again and gave a prayer of thanks to the Lord for his witness to me that, although I hadn’t recognized it before, I already knew.

I hold in my hand a copy of the Book of Mormon. This is my 1970 vintage edition, and it is precious to me. By its appearance it is tired and worn, but no other book is as important to my life and my testimony as this one. Reading it, I gained a witness by the Spirit that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, that He is my Savior, that these scriptures are the word of God, and that the gospel is restored. Those truths rest deep within me. As the prophet Nephi said, “My soul delighteth in the things of the Lord.”
Left to right: Elder Ronald A. Rasband, young missionary; President Harold Wilkinson, president of the Eastern States Mission; and Elder Marion D. Hanks, General Authority Seventy.
Here is the back story. As a young missionary, I took the counsel of Elder Marion D. Hanks, who visited us in the Eastern States Mission. He was the former president of the British Mission, and two of his missionaries are on the stand this day: my dear Brethren Elder Jeffrey R. Holland and Elder Quentin L. Cook. Just as with his missionaries in England, he challenged us to read an unmarked copy of the Book of Mormon at least two times. I took up the task. The first reading I was to mark or underline everything that pointed to or testified of Jesus Christ. I used a red pencil, and I underlined many passages. The second time, Elder Hanks said to highlight principles and doctrine of the gospel, and this time I used blue to mark the scriptures. I read the Book of Mormon twice, as suggested, and then two more times, using yellow and black to mark passages that stood out to me. As you can see, I made many notations.
There was much more to my reading than just marking scriptures. With each reading of the Book of Mormon, front to back, I was filled with a profound love for the Lord. I felt a deeply rooted witness of the truth of His teachings and how they apply to “this day.” This book fits its title, “Another Testament of Jesus Christ.” With that study and the spiritual witness that was received, I became a Book of Mormon missionary and a disciple of Jesus Christ.