Gospel Story Finder

A friend of mine told me recently of his family vacation this past summer. A long distance was being driven, and the children, who ranged from preschoolers to high school age, grew restless. The parents had wisely taken along the scriptures, and when these restless times came, family members read chapters and then everyone talked about what had been read. The teenagers who did most of the reading quit teasing the little ones, and the little ones seemed very interested in what the older ones had to say. This family read a sizable part of the New Testament while traveling on their vacation.

“I share with you an experience that embarrassed, a game that was lost, and a lesson in not taking ourselves too seriously.

“First, in a basketball game when the outcome was in doubt, the coach sent me onto the playing floor right after the second half began. I took an in-bounds pass, dribbled the ball toward the key, and let the shot fly. Just as the ball left my fingertips, I realized why the opposing guards did not attempt to stop my drive: I was shooting for the wrong basket! I offered a silent prayer: ‘Please, Father, don’t let that ball go in.’ The ball rimmed the hoop and fell out.

“From the bleachers came the call: ‘We want Monson, we want Monson, we want Monson—out!’ The coach obliged. …

“I fared much better at fast-pitch softball. My most memorable experience in softball was a thirteen-inning game I pitched in Salt Lake City on a hot Memorial Day. The game was scheduled for just seven innings, but the tied score could not be broken. In the last of the thirteenth, with two men out and a runner on third, the batter hit a high pop fly to left field. The catch was certain, I thought. And yet the ball fell through the hands of the left fielder. For thirty-eight years I have teased my friend who dropped the ball. I have promised myself I will never do so again. I’m not even going to mention his name. After all, he, too, remembers. It was only a game.”1

Ever since I was a little girl, I loved sports, especially football. I played whenever I could, and I dreamed of competing someday for Argentina in the Olympics or the World Games.
My dreams were shattered one day when I was 15 years old. I had just visited my sick seminary teacher and was riding my bicycle home when two gangs in my neighborhood started shooting at each other. A stray bullet hit me in the back.
When I woke up in the hospital the next day, I learned that I was paralyzed from the waist down.
While I was healing, family and friends would ask me how I was doing. I could see that they all felt bad for me, so I would console them by saying I was OK. Comforting others helped me, but I knew I wouldn’t walk again and had to learn how to live with being paralyzed.
At the time, I had started going to seminary and was becoming active again in the Church. Seminary was the pillar that supported me in coming back and in not getting mad at Heavenly Father over what had happened to me.
In seminary our teacher taught us that when bad things happen, we shouldn’t ask, “Why did this happen to me?” She said the question we should ask is, “What can I learn from this?”
It was hard to keep going and to always be positive, but my seminary teacher’s question gave me a lot of strength. When I lost hope and when doubts filled my mind, I always returned to that question: “What can I learn?” That helped me get up every day, and it carried me when I felt like giving up.

Our Sunday School lesson on keeping the Sabbath day holy had gone well—until somebody mentioned television.
As people chimed in with their opinions regarding whether watching television on Sunday was appropriate, some class members became prescriptive. Before long, other class members became offended. The Spirit, which at first had accompanied our discussion, was replaced by a palpable tension.
Observing the growing discord, Kenneth Payne, a member of our stake presidency, asked to speak. He stood and began telling us about his son Brian, who had served in the Japan Tokyo North Mission. When President Payne and his family greeted Brian at the airport upon his return from his mission in March 2003, he complained of a stiff, sore jaw. Within weeks, Brian was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma.
A month later he began a regimen of chemotherapy and then radiation. President Payne said doctors had planned a bone-marrow transplant for September 22, but just after the first of that month, “Brian began having difficulty.”
He was hospitalized the second week of September. By then, because of the cancer’s aggressive nature, doctors determined that it was too late for a transplant. The family brought Brian home from the hospital on September 21. He passed away the next morning.
“September 22 is a special day for my family and me,” said President Payne. “On that day we slow down and think about Brian, his contributions to our family, and how he gave the last two years of his life to the Lord and to the Japanese people, whom he loved. We miss him, and on that day we reflect upon his life and honor his memory.”
For all of us, President Payne said, Sunday is a day to slow down and remember.
“We take time out to attend our Church meetings, partake of the sacrament, sorrow for our sins, and ponder the Savior’s suffering on our behalf,” he said. “We serve, we love, and we try not to be distracted by activities that would prevent us from worshipping Him.”
President Payne said that if Sunday activities are in keeping with that spirit, then we can feel right as we engage in them. But if they distract us from remembering the Savior and ministering on the Sabbath as He would minister, then perhaps we should reconsider our choice.
He then sat down and said no more. He didn’t need to. The Spirit had returned to the classroom, and we were all listening.

Don was moved to a rehabilitation center in Denver, Colorado. He was quite unprepared for what he encountered at his new residence in the paralytic ward. Everyone seemed depressed, discouraged, and despondent. Patients could not understand how Don, who was in an equally distressing condition, could seem so happy. Some of them asked, “Why are you always so happy and smiling?” Don replied, “My smile keeps the tears from my eyes, and my laughter keeps away the feeling of unhappiness.”
With courageous determination Don took advantage of the special care he now received. Long after others would tire and leave the gymnasium, he would remain—trying, trying, trying. Through his valiant effort, accompanied by humble prayers to his Heavenly Father, he was finally strong enough to go up and down the parallel bars alone; and then he was able to walk with braces and crutches. His new mobility permitted him to attend church services. This spiritual comfort brought him great joy, but he was totally surprised by the reception he was given upon his return to the hospital. Everyone teased him for going to church! In his characteristic way, Don’s smile merely broadened at their taunting. He resolved to do something about the gloomy atmosphere in this, his new home, so he happily embarked upon the next chapter of his mission.
In the days that followed, he could be seen wheeling himself down hallways and into every room where patients would receive him, preaching the gospel to all who would listen. He became known cheerfully as “the prophet,” a title that he accepted graciously.
In the evenings he often sang as he accompanied himself with his guitar. Others began to join in, and the spirit spread. Friday nights soon became known as the time for singing and entertainment and patients joined together with singing and laughter. Patients began to smile and call each other by name.
On the night of Don’s departure, a special program was held in his behalf. His many new friends shook the rafters with a song sung in his honor: “Too Many Chiefs and Not Enough Indians Around This Place.”
The courage and spirit of this young man had affected the lives of others and left an indelible impression.
Two of the residing patients and two members of the nursing staff who waved good-bye to Don had accepted the gospel of Jesus Christ as a result of his influence. Many looked to the future with new hope, and each felt a personal loss at his departure.

Through it all, my parents were great. They have always taught me how to make decisions. I remember when I was 14 and I was invited to play on an all-star team made up mostly of 16-year-olds. That was very exciting, but then I found out the team played every day—including Sunday. As soon as my coach said that, it just mortified me inside because I knew there was this great opportunity but there was also the issue of playing on Sunday.

I really didn’t know what to do, only that I had to make a decision before I talked to the coach. So I got down on my knees to pray, and I had this feeling that I should not play on Sunday. When I told the coach about not wanting to play on Sunday, he was totally fine with that idea. He told me he respected my decision, and that I could still play for the team.

My son Taylor (Elder Mulford) is serving a mission on the island of Bora Bora in Tahiti. He told me that not long ago the stake president came out to Bora Bora and told the missionaries about how he had visited a barber, who was a member, for a haircut. He asked the barber why there were no Liahona magazines among the others he had for patrons to read. The barber promised him that the next time he came, there would be Liahonas there. However, the next time the stake president went to the barber, there were still no Liahonas. Disappointed, he asked the barber why. The barber explained that each time he put a Liahona out, someone would read it, ask him many questions, and then ask if he could keep the magazine. The barber said he had no more magazines to give away, but he added that many of the people who took the magazines were taking the missionary discussions.

Learning the ropes of steer riding as an Aaronic Priesthood MIA activity? Youths of the Spanish Fork and Palmyra (Utah) Stakes herded their horses and enthusiasm into a rodeo that included goat tying, calf roping, barrel races, and wild cow milking.

Originating with the youth committees of the two stakes, the rodeo attracted more than 80 participants. Organizing and planning the event, along with the publicity and selection of advisers, were all projects of the youth committees.

Among the ropers, riders, and milkers interest ran high. Randy Young, who entered the steer riding event, said the rodeo provided “excitement, action, and lots of fun.” At 14 he’s a seven-year veteran of the arena.

Dean Sorenson started three years ago when he was nine and says the best way to learn the basics is from an older brother, a father, or a friend.

Many of the local young people frequently ride in the weekly rodeo at nearby Birdseye, which provides stiff competition and good training, according to Dean.

When Alice’s mother and sisters decided to become members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Alice was only six and too young to be baptized with the rest of her family in Bahnhofstr, Germany. Because they often talked of the wonderful experience of baptism and the joy their membership in the Church had brought them, Alice could hardly wait to be eight so she could be baptized too.
Alice planned and dreamed how she would be baptized on her birthday. “Not sometime after,” she insisted, “but on that very day.”
However, three days before Alice turned eight, she awoke with a severe headache, and the next day she was too ill to go to school.
The doctor who was called said she would have to stay home and in bed for at least a week. Alice’s big eyes filled with tears of disappointment.
The next day Alice was even more miserable, and her temperature was higher despite the medicine the doctor had prescribed. Mother was puzzled and concerned, but Alice felt worse about not being baptized on the very day of her birthday than she did about all her aches and pains and fever.
The afternoon before Alice’s birthday, her mother started into the sickroom. But she stopped at the door when she saw Alice kneeling in fervent prayer on her bed. This little girl was pleading with Heavenly Father for fulfillment of her great desire to become a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
On the morning of her birthday, Alice got up, dressed, and prepared for baptism. Her fever was gone and she felt well and happy. Some hours later her mother checked Alice’s temperature again and it still registered normal.
God had answered Alice’s sincere prayer. That evening she was baptized!

Recently a professor on this campus told me about two different students who came to him with confessions of cheating. Each had lied about completing reading assignments in order to receive a higher grade. As the days passed, both realized that they had cheated themselves. This incident plagued the conscience of one student, and she decided she must set things straight. The other was preparing for a mission and could not feel good about teaching others to keep the commandments and be honest. And so they sought for forgiveness, and inner peace was restored.

For the past few years I have had the privilege of home teaching with an ordained teacher part of the time and a priest with whom I am teaching at the present time. They make the appointments and take their turn in presenting and leading the discussions. The other day my home teaching companion called me and said that the head of one of the families we visit was in the hospital and suggested that we go to see him. We did and blessed him.

One day they felt impressed to go to the farthest part of the town, out along the edges of the sugarcane fields. As they walked down the street, they saw two men sitting on their porch, and they stopped to talk with them. This was the first time they met Julian and his son, Victor. Julian immediately invited them in to have some yuca with butter and listened to the message they had to share. He was interested and asked them to come back and teach him more.
The following day the elders were in the town center doing street contacting when they met Carmen, Julian’s partner. As they started talking with her, they learned that Julian had told her all about what he had learned the day before. The elders returned that afternoon and taught Julian and Carmen how families were part of God’s plan. They learned that the couple had been together for over 30 years, with children and grandchildren, but had never gotten married. The elders asked what they thought about getting married. At first, Carmen was eager, and Julian was hesitant. Two weeks later, when they were married, he was emotional about finally being married to the woman of his dreams.

Monica Chavez lived with her mother and father, her sisters Maria and Linda, and her baby brother, Tomas. Her grandmother lived next door. Just around the bend in the road lived her Aunt Juanita and her family, and her Uncle Esteban and his family. Uncle Roberto lived with his family in town, a few miles away. Her grandmother, aunts, uncles, and father were all members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. But none of them went to Church very often. Monica’s mother belonged to a different church, but she didn’t go to her church very often, either.
Sometimes Grandmother would take Monica and some of the other grandchildren to church. The children liked to go, but everyone else there spoke only English. Although Monica and the other grandchildren spoke both English and Spanish, Grandmother spoke only Spanish, and she didn’t understand the speakers at church, so she didn’t go very often. When Grandmother wasn’t going, Monica asked her father to take her, but he always said that he and her uncles were too tired from working so hard all week. They wanted to stay home and rest on Sunday.
Then something happened that changed everything. Two sister missionaries came to visit Monica’s grandmother. Missionaries had visited before, but these two sisters were different—they spoke both English and Spanish! The missionaries talked with Monica’s grandmother about her family. They made plans to visit all the aunts and uncles and their children. Then they encouraged Grandmother Chavez to come to church with her grandchildren.
That Sunday Grandmother Chavez did take the grandchildren to church. The missionaries helped her understand what was being said. The people at church shook the Chavezes’ hands and smiled at them, and some even learned to say “Buenos dias (Good morning)” and “Bienvenida (Welcome)” to Grandmother.
When church was over, Monica heard Grandmother talking with the missionaries in Spanish. “Monica is eight years old,” she said. “She is old enough and wants to be baptized. But I don’t know how to tell the branch president.”
“Baptism is an important step,” Sister Farmer said. “The branch president knows that Monica is old enough to be baptized, but he wants to be sure that Monica is ready for it and also that her parents are ready to help her keep the promises that she will make when she is baptized.”
“In fact, that’s why we’re here,” Sister Johnson added. “Because we speak Spanish, the branch president asked us to help Monica and her family get ready for this important step.”
“Would you like to learn more about the Church, Monica?” Sister Farmer asked her in English, because she knew that Monica understood English better than Spanish.
“Oh yes! I like to come to church, and I want to be baptized.” Monica was very excited. She had wanted to be baptized for a long time.
The missionaries arranged to meet with Monica and her parents at Grandmother Chavez’s house. When they had all arrived, the missionaries taught Monica a lesson about Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. They told her about Joseph Smith’s vision and about how he translated the Book of Mormon, and they gave her a Book of Mormon. When the missionaries taught her, they spoke in English to her, then in Spanish to her grandmother. It made Monica feel very good when the sisters explained things to her in a way that she could understand.
Sister Johnson gave a Book of Mormon in Spanish to Monica’s mother and father and invited them to come to church.
Grandmother Chavez invited the sisters to a family barbeque to meet all of Monica’s aunts and uncles and cousins. In the following weeks the missionaries came many times to teach Monica and her relatives. Grandmother, Monica, and some of the other grandchildren started going to church every week, and sometimes Monica’s parents went with them.
Once, when Monica’s mother went, someone said to her in a friendly way, “If you think that the Church is good for Monica, don’t you think that it would be good for you too? Why don’t you prepare to be baptized with Monica?”
Monica’s mother didn’t understand everything that the man had said, so Sister Farmer explained in Spanish. Monica’s mother had listened to the missionary lessons many years before, but because they were in English, she hadn’t really understood them. She knew that these missionaries would help her understand the gospel in her own language, so she agreed to have them teach her.
One day the sisters asked Monica’s mother to pray to know if she should be baptized, and she did. She read the scriptures every day, too, and one night she had a dream. In the dream she was looking for white clothes to wear to her baptism. She felt very happy and peaceful. When she woke up, she knew that Heavenly Father had answered her prayer.
The day before Monica’s ninth birthday, Monica and her mother were baptized. Her aunts and uncles and cousins and father and grandmother came—so did many people from the branch. It was a very happy day for everyone, but most of all for Monica and her mother.
There were some people in the branch who thought that the Chavez family wouldn’t attend church regularly. “Wait and see,” Sister Johnson and Sister Farmer said.
Monica’s family went to church every Sunday with her grandmother. Aunt Juanita and her family, and Uncle Roberto’s family went too. After Sister Johnson and Sister Farmer left, other Spanish-speaking missionaries came, and all the Chavez relatives helped the missionaries teach other Spanish-speaking families about the Church. Soon there were Sunday School classes in both English and Spanish, and the tiny branch began to grow. Many people came to know how happy the gospel could make them. And it all started with Monica.

Tears came to my eyes when I read of a mere boy in one of our eastern cities who noticed a vagrant asleep on a sidewalk and who then went to his own bedroom, retrieved his own pillow, and placed it beneath the head of that one whom he knew not. Perhaps there came from the precious past the welcome words: “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me” (Matt. 25:40).

To illustrate what he meant when he said, “and not to the bringing forth my word only, . . . but to the convincing them of my word, which shall have already gone forth among them,” I’d like to tell you a little experience I had when I was on a mission over in Holland. I was invited to talk to a Bible class of businessmen in The Hague. We met in the home of a prominent furniture dealer. There were about twenty men; the only woman there was the daughter of the man of the house. Each had his Bible, and they gave me an hour and a half to discuss universal salvation, which includes our work for the dead. I just gave them chapter and verse and an explanation and let them look it up in their own Bibles and read it. People believe it more readily when they read it themselves. Then when I was through I closed my Bible, laid it on the table, folded my arms, and waited for a comment. The first comment came from the daughter of the man of the house. She said, “Father, I just can’t understand it. I’ve never attended one of these Bible classes in my life that you haven’t had the last word to say on everything, but tonight you haven’t said a word!”
He said, “My daughter, there isn’t anything to say. This man has been teaching us things we’ve never heard of and has been teaching them to us out of our own Bibles.” That’s what the Lord meant when he said that the Prophet of this dispensation should not only bring forth his word but would bring men to conviction of his word that had already gone forth among them. I could tell you many more stories like that.

I conclude with an example from my own life. I once had a treasured friend who seemed to experience more of life’s troubles and frustrations than he could bear. Finally he lay in the hospital terminally ill. I knew not that he was there.
Sister Monson and I had gone to that same hospital to visit another person who was very ill. As we exited the hospital and proceeded to where our car was parked, I felt the distinct impression to return and make inquiry concerning whether my friend Hyrum might still be a patient there. A check with the clerk at the desk confirmed that Hyrum was indeed a patient there after many weeks.
We proceeded to his room, knocked on the door, and opened it. We were not prepared for the sight that awaited us. Balloon bouquets were everywhere. Prominently displayed on the wall was a poster with the words "Happy Birthday, Daddy" written on it. Hyrum was sitting up in his hospital bed, his family members by his side. When he saw us, he said, “Brother Monson, how in the world did you know that today is my birthday?” I smiled, but I left the question unanswered.
Those in the room who held the Melchizedek Priesthood surrounded this, their father and grandfather and my friend, and a priesthood blessing was given.
After tears were shed, smiles of gratitude exchanged, and tender hugs received and given, I leaned over to Hyrum and spoke softly to him: “Remember the words of the Lord, for they will sustain you. He promised you, ‘I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you’ (John 14:18).”

The sun hung low against the blue-white horizon of the Wasatch Mountains. It was late in the afternoon. The temperature was dropping, and to the west, storm clouds drew a dark curtain of gray. In a small basin near the top peaks a line of backpackers on snowshoes crossed through a maze of snow-feathered trees. It was December, months past the season for backpacking and camping in the mountains. A deep layer of snow, hardened by the cold and polished by wind, covered the earth and low bushes. The sound of backpackers walking in the crusted snow echoed in the basin.
The backpackers, members of Sandy Utah East Stake’s Summiteers, an advanced camping program for girls, stopped in a clearing. One of the girls, Susie Bigelow, wearing sun glasses for protection against snow glare, looked around and took off her pack.
“This looks like a good place,” she said.
Dallan Sohm, a priesthood adviser for the group and the husband of one of the Young Women leaders present, looked the area over.
“The snow’s deep enough for the shelter,” he said. “But we’ve got to hurry and get it built before dark.”
As they worked, shadows of frosted-white pines grew long and silver-gray in fading light. Icicles hanging from the trees caught the last rays from a pale sunset and sparkled like polished topaz. The temperature dropped with the sun. The girls’ cheeks were bright red in the freezing air.
They dug a rectangular pit in the snow, arched their snowshoes over it, and covered them with sheets of plastic. They added pine poles for additional strength. Tunnels were dug on both sides for entrance and ventilation. The shelter’s floor was covered with plastic, then with foam pads, and sleeping bags were laid out on top.
Finally the shelter was ready. It wasn’t very comfortable or even very warm, but it was warm enough to keep the group from freezing.
Above the basin, high winds tore clouds that fogged the mountain and left them ragged. In the basin there was no wind, and only the girls’ voices broke the cold stillness.
Looking back to the west the girls, all between 16 and 18 years old, knew the stillness in the basin wouldn’t last. The high wind was moving the storm east, toward their camp. They knew that before morning there would be snow falling in the basin—deep, fresh, powder snow. It was snow that would send cross-country skiers and snowmobilers down the mountain to warm cabins. The Summiteers stayed. This was why they had come high into the mountains in December, to learn winter survival and winter camping. They were ready for the storm and the cold.
One member of the group, Koryl Thornwall, later explained that the Sandy Utah East Stake follows the camp certification program developed for the Young Women organization of the Church. This program includes a four-year camp training program and a fifth Summiteer year for those who want further camping experience.
“The Summiteer program is for those who want to develop advanced camping skills. The winter camp is the climax in the program,” she explained.
The girls in the winter camp were all experienced campers. During the previous summer they had gone on a hundred-mile canoe trip down Idaho’s Snake River.
“We know what it is like to be out in the rain and wind,” Koryl said. “But winter camping is something new for us.”
Months before the winter campout the members of the group began preparing for the trip. They held classes on winter survival, learning about the dangers of cold weather and how to prepare for it. They learned how to prevent frostbite, hypothermia (a rapid drop in body temperature), and snowblindness, how to build simple shelters, how to dress to keep warm and dry, and what foods to eat.
During the campout they put what they had learned into action. After building the shelter and after a meal of high energy foods and hot chocolate, they crawled into their sleeping bags. Night came fast and dark. A small but icy wind started and grew in intensity. Inside the shelter it was crowded, but all were protected from the freezing night air.
In the morning they woke to find several inches of fresh snow, bright, sparkling, and satin white. After brushing it off their equipment, they cooked hot oatmeal for breakfast. Afterwards, they took the shelter apart, loaded equipment and supplies into their packs, and started down the mountain. By late afternoon they reached the road. Several parents were waiting with cars. The winter campout was over. The Summiteers had learned some new camping skills and grown closer to each other in the process. And once again they had come to appreciate the magnificence of their Father’s creations and the depth of his love for them.
They packed their equipment into the cars and were ready to leave. Then one of the girls looked back up the mountain and said, “Hey, next month how about a cross-country ski trip?”

This reminds me of another incident that happened in the life of my husband’s mother. Just a couple of years before her passing, she was a worker in the Provo Temple. She loved attending the temple and working there. She had the early morning shift, and she usually left her home around five in the morning and, at age 80, drove to Provo from her Orem home.

One January morning her car would not start. It was snowing and very cold. She tried a few times to get the engine going, but to no avail. She was determined to fulfill her calling and to not disturb anyone at that early hour. After a short prayer to the Lord, she didn’t lose courage and started walking, at age 80, at five in the morning, in January, while it was snowing hard. I assure you, I am not making this up; it is true in every detail.

This modern pioneer woman walked half a block, and a car stopped next to her. An older gentleman was driving and asked her if he could be of assistance. Sister Noble did not want to bother him too much and asked him where he was going, to see if their two destinations were nearby. Well, he was also going to the temple and offered her a ride.

When that afternoon she called us to take her back home and told us this story, we gently scolded her for not calling us that morning and urged her to promise us not to do it again.

Then, with her usual sweetness and calm, she answered back and said: “Okay, I’ll call you next time, and I won’t do it again. But you kids, you don’t have enough faith. I knew that I would be all right.” She said this simply, almost unbelieving of our concern. She was on the Lord’s business, and He was going to help her. What were we worried about?

One night before bed I was thinking about what to pray for when I felt prompted to pray for my uncle’s family. I prayed that they would feel the Spirit. Two days later I learned that my uncle had lost his job and that his family would have to move.
It was then I realized that what I had prayed for was a prompting from the Holy Ghost, and I felt grateful that I had listened to the still small voice. In a situation where I could not do much else to help, I felt good knowing my prayers could help. Sometimes instances like this may seem insignificant, but I know that seeking personal revelation, listening to promptings, and following them—even small ones—can increase our faith and strengthen others.

As high school graduation approached, my friends and I eagerly anticipated our graduation dance. But when our school announced the date of the dance, I was devastated to learn that it was going to be on a Sunday.
“Mariela, this happens once in a lifetime!” one friend told me. “You should just go. You’ll never have to miss church again. But this once, you should skip church and go to the dance.”
I explained to her that it wasn’t just about missing church—it was about giving a day to the Lord. But as I thought about what she said, I wondered, “Would it really matter if I didn’t observe the Sabbath, just this once?” After all, my friends and I were soon going our separate ways, and we had looked forward to this event for years. The dance would offer us one last chance to celebrate together.
As I thought about my decision, I remembered that my father had taught me that the Sabbath day was “food” for the rest of the week. Could I really afford to miss out on the spiritual and temporal blessings the Lord promises to the obedient? I weighed my options, and I knew what my decision should be.
My friends didn’t understand when I told them about my decision not to go. Over the next several weeks, I felt disappointed every time I heard one of them talking about the dance, but I knew my choice was right.
As the dance approached, something unexpected happened. For some reason the school decided to change the date. Instead of being held on a Sunday evening, the dance would be held on a Saturday evening! I was so excited to be able to go after all and have a wonderful time with my friends. What made me feel especially happy was knowing that I had honored my commitment to obey the Lord.
I am grateful that I was able to attend the dance, but I realize that we’re not always blessed in this way. Sometimes we are required to make significant sacrifices for the gospel of Jesus Christ. But I learned then, and I know now, that a loving Heavenly Father always blesses us one way or another when we obey.