Gospel Story Finder

Lehi, Utah, 1851
Sarah Ann wiped the sweat from her forehead. It was hard to believe that she and Canute had already been married for three years.
So much had happened during those years. After the long, difficult journey across the plains, they had finally arrived in Salt Lake City. Soon after, Sarah Ann gave birth to a baby boy, Peter. They were now expecting another child.
Sarah Ann saw Canute walking across the field towards her. He looked serious.
“What happened?” Sarah Ann asked.
“President Brigham Young has called me to serve a mission in Norway.”
Sarah Ann realized that her dreams of spending nights sitting near the cozy fireplace with Canute and their children would have to wait.
“When will you go?” she asked.
“I should prepare to leave immediately,” Canute said. “But we have no money. And who will watch over you and our children?”
“Canute, I know the Lord will provide for us. He has a work for you to do, and you must do it,” Sarah Ann said.
Sarah Ann helped Canute get ready for his journey. She had faith that God would protect their family while her husband was away.
Three years passed. Sarah Ann took care of the land, house, and children by herself. When it came time to plant crops, the other farmers were too busy to help. So Sarah Ann picked up a hoe and a bucket of wheat seed and started planting the seeds herself.
Because she was working alone, it took her a long time to plant the wheat. Some of the other farmers said she had finished too late in the season for wheat to grow before winter and that she had planted the seeds too deep in the soil. Within a few weeks, wheat started springing up in other fields. But Sarah Ann’s field still looked bare. She began to worry.
“If the wheat doesn’t grow, my children will have nothing to eat,” Sarah Ann thought. She decided to pray for help.
One day, Peter was playing in the field when he noticed that the grass seemed to be jumping. There were thousands of grasshoppers covering the ground!
The farmers tried everything they could think of to make the pesky insects go away, but nothing worked. When the grasshoppers finally left days later, the farmers’ crops were gone. The insects had eaten all of their wheat!
The farmers didn’t know how they would feed their families during the long, cold winter.
“Continue to trust God. He will provide for us,” Sarah Ann told them confidently.
Sarah Ann kept on praying and waiting patiently for an answer to her prayers. Then, the week after the grasshoppers left, Sarah Ann’s wheat—which she had planted later and deeper than the other farmers’ crops—began to appear.
That summer, Sarah Ann harvested 60 bushels of wheat, potatoes, and corn. She was not only able to feed her family but also many of her neighbors. Because of her faith in the Lord, everyone had enough to eat.

For many years I had the pleasing experience of being a missionary on Temple Square in Salt Lake City. It was my privilege to teach many wonderful people who came from all over the world to learn about the Church and the gospel. One of those I remember best was Dr. Aer Waerland, who was well-known for his scientific research with foods and nutrition and who had written several books about the subject.
Dr. Waerland had come from Stockholm, Sweden, to learn about Mormons and especially to discuss the law of health we follow. We, of course, learn much about that law from our Heavenly Father in a revelation He gave to Joseph Smith in 1833, which we refer to as the Word of Wisdom. In Sweden Dr. Waerland had heard from missionaries about this program for good health and, because it involved the same things he had studied for many years, he wanted to learn about it at the headquarters of the Church.
I told Dr. Waerland what the Lord has taught us—that our body is part of our eternal soul, that we could not be truly happy eternally without our body, that we will have our bodies forever, after the resurrection, and that, therefore, it is very important that we do everything we can to keep clean and healthy and well.
The Word of Wisdom teaches us a great principle and makes a promise. The principle is that everything good God has provided for us we should use with thanksgiving and good judgment, with prudence and not to excess. Everything that is not good for us we should leave alone. The promise is that if we obey this principle we will be better off in every way: in health, in knowledge and wisdom, and in wonderful spiritual blessings.
With the Doctrine and Covenants opened before us, Dr. Waerland and I discussed the details of the revelation. He talked with some wonderment about the instructions concerning what we should eat and what we should not eat. He noted that the book says that alcohol and tobacco and hot drinks are not good for man. He asked how Joseph Smith, a young man 27 years of age without any formal training in the field of nutrition, could have possibly known about these things in 1833 when the most modern information then available could not have told him so. I explained that Joseph Smith was a prophet and that this information had come by revelation. I said to him, “Dr. Waerland, what would you think of such a young man, 27 years of age, who wrote that document more than 140 years ago?”
He said, “I know nothing of prophets and revelation, but I would say that such a young man was just 140 years ahead of his time.”
He then spoke of some of the recent discoveries of science and of his own researches and said that every suggestion in the Word of Wisdom was good and true.
After we had talked again about prophets and revelation and he had said again that he was not a religious man and knew little of prophets, he repeated that whoever wrote that document was 140 years ahead of his time.
We know now through evidence that cannot be questioned, that alcohol and tobacco and caffeine are not good for the body. We know that they are destructive and harmful. We know much about the importance of the proper food to eat and about moderation in diet. These facts were not available to Joseph Smith except through revelation received from our Heavenly Father. That is how he received them, and we need to remember that, when we thank the Lord for wonderful blessings we have received through prophets from God.

One day after a particularly hard shift in the hospital’s pediatrics unit, I was tired and grumpy. As I walked to the security desk, I noticed some beautiful flowers. When I commented to the person at the desk how beautiful they were and how good they smelled, she told me I could have them.
I was so happy! I thought that surely Heavenly Father wanted me to have the flowers to brighten my day.
Walking out of the hospital, I found myself behind a woman in a wheelchair. I grew impatient with her but finally was able to pass her as we exited the building. As I passed, she lifted her head and said, “Oh, what beautiful flowers.” I thanked her and hurried toward my husband, who was waiting in our car. I was excited to show him my flowers.
Suddenly I felt the Holy Ghost tell me that the woman needed the flowers more than I did. I was reluctant to give them to her, but I followed the prompting. When I asked if she would like them, I hoped she would say no.
“Oh, yes!” she replied. “I would love them. They are beautiful.”
I handed them to her, but as I turned to leave, she began to sob. When I asked if she was all right, she told me that her husband had passed away several years ago and that it had been more than a year since any of her children had visited her. She said she had been pleading with God to show her a sign of His love.
“You are an angel sent from God to give me my favorite flowers,” she said. “Now I know that He loves me.”
My heart broke. I had been so selfish. This woman needed a loving word, and I didn’t even want to talk to her. I was no angel. As we parted, I also started to cry.
When I reached the car, my husband asked what was wrong and why I had given away my flowers. He seemed confused but then relieved as I related the story.
“I sent you roses today. I felt that you needed them,” he said. “I was worried you had just given them away. If those weren’t the flowers I sent you, where are they?”
It turned out that the floral shop had forgotten to deliver the roses, so we drove to the shop. My husband went in and soon came out with a beautiful bouquet.
I couldn’t help but cry again. Heavenly Father had asked me to sacrifice those flowers, knowing that there was something better waiting for me and also that His lonely daughter needed a reminder of His love.

While President Faust has spent so much of his life serving others in group situations, yet he has also known what it is like to be alone. His loyalty and integrity were operative then, too. Though the only Church member on a transport ship in the South Pacific in World War II (which for 83 long days towed a larger vessel to port), he nevertheless worshipped alone on Sundays. Searching out places where he could sing alone from a pocket-sized hymnal, he would read the scriptures, meditate, and pray in private. Often this meant going up to the front of the ship, where the waves would drown out his singing. Such steady, spiritual discipline reflects, of course, special training by his parents, George A. and Amy Finlinson Faust.

Ward members made very effort to make Sage’s return from Galveston as smooth as possible. During a Sharing Time just before she returned, the Primary presidency held an activity to show the children that although people may be hurt or maimed, they are Heavenly Father’s children and need our help.
Nancy Eldridge, then Primary president, had a video tape made of Sage speaking to the children. On the tape Sage talked about her experience and hopes for the future. She closed by assuring her friends that she was still “the same old Sage.”
Nancy says that each of the children had to adjust to Sage in his or her own way. Her own son had a particularly difficult time. “He loved Sage, but he was afraid, and it bothered him. So he wrote her letters of love and friendship until he was able to work through his feelings.”

For all of my life, I have heard about how important it is for us to attend the temple. I remember singing songs in Primary like “I Love To See the Temple” and “Families Can Be Together Forever,” which reminded me of how sacred the temple is and that we have to be worthy to be able to enter. I had been taught that it was the place where our Heavenly Father dwells and that it was so important to make it into those hallowed walls.
My parents had been within those very walls, though they weren’t able to frequent them as often as they would like to. They first went to the temple together a year after they were married. It was difficult because even though they knew they couldn’t afford to go, they knew they couldn’t afford not to either. It was always emphasized in our home to go to the temple as soon as we could and to make temple marriage our goal. My parents also showed me how important and sacred their covenants were. They taught me that they received many blessings from keeping their covenants, and because of their example, I decided that was something that I wanted too. Throughout the years, I kept reminding myself to “always keep the temple within my sights,”1 even though the nearest temple was far away.
Here in Barbados, we aren’t privileged to have a temple so close that we can walk or even take the bus. In order for us to get to a temple, we have to travel many miles away from home by plane. I think that’s why so many members treasure their visits to the temple.
The opportunity finally came for me to go the temple for the very first time, but for some reason, I felt incredibly anxious. The first thought that flooded my mind was that even though I was trying my best, it wasn’t good enough; I wasn’t worthy enough. This worried me tremendously. I was indeed trying my best, so why did I feel so deflated about going to the temple?
I decided that for a decision as big as this one, I needed to seek the answer from my Heavenly Father. Did He want me to go, or was I really not good enough?
The next two weeks were filled with mornings turning into nights on my knees and continual fasting. I tried my best to keep the Spirit near, and though many nights I got off my knees from fervent prayers still a bit unsure, I was sure that Heavenly Father would answer. I just needed to be patient.
The next Sunday as I sat in fast and testimony meeting, the Spirit was really strong. I had my eyes closed as the sacrament was being passed, and that’s when I got my answer. It felt like Heavenly Father was saying to me, “Zariah, if it is of Me, how could it be wrong?”
When I felt those words, tears came to my eyes and I just felt this overwhelming feeling of joy. I knew that Heavenly Father had heard every prayer I had uttered. He knew just how inadequate I felt, but He also reminded me that the Savior, through His Atonement, can help us work toward becoming better every single day. All feelings of inadequacy dissipated within that small moment.
When I reached home that afternoon, I shared my answer with my family, that I needed to go to the Lord’s house to make those special, sacred covenants that we need for eternal life.
As I had the interviews with both the branch and mission presidents, I felt even better about my choice. On both occasions, Heavenly Father kept reassuring me that I had made the right decision, that I was worthy, that I was good enough.
That feeling followed me all the way to the temple grounds. When I first set foot inside those sacred halls, it felt like Heavenly Father wrapped His arms around me and said, “Welcome home.” It was probably one of the most amazing feelings and one that I will never forget.

From her playhouse inside the willow thicket Hannah heard her mother call, “Where are you, Hannah? I need you.”
After putting her dolls in their secret hiding place, Hannah went into the house.
“I’m glad you came so quickly, Hannah,” Mother said with a smile. “I must hurry over to Sister Hansen’s house. Would you please bring some potatoes from the root cellar so I can start supper when I come back.”
“Oh, Mother!” Hannah’s skin prickled with dread. “The cellar’s full of spiders, and today I saw a toad hop out. I don’t want to go down there.”
“Sometimes we all must do things we don’t want to do. Take your little brother with you if you like,” Mother said, putting her hand on Sammy’s shoulder.
“I’ll go with you,” Sammy said good-naturedly. And standing tall and brave, he added, “I’m not afraid of anything!”
But after their mother started down the lane, her long skirt swinging and her flowered sunbonnet bright, Sammy said, “I don’t like that old root cellar much either.”
“I’ll tell Mother if you don’t come,” scolded Hannah.
Her brother put his hands into his overall pockets defiantly and wouldn’t move. Hannah glared at him a moment and then, trying to look brave, marched toward the slanting plank door placed at ground level behind the house. She lifted the door, then closed it quickly. Just to look at the uneven steps cut into the damp earth made Hannah shudder.
Spiders and the dim light were bad enough, but yesterday she’d heard Father say to Mr. Hansen, “When we finish that irrigation ditch to my property line, I must take time to finish my root cellar. Those temporary supports propping up that dirty roof might not hold.”
If I had only remembered to tell Mother what Father said, thought Hannah, she wouldn’t want me and Sammy to go into the cellar. She turned to walk away. Then Hannah remembered how sad and weak Mother looked since the new baby died and how hard Father had to work. Hannah knew she must do her share, but she decided her brother would have to go with her whether he wanted to or not.
Hannah turned to Sammy, who had followed her. “You go down first,” she ordered.
“Not me!” he said stubbornly.
“You’re just a fraidycat!”
Sammy cried, “I am not! Dumb old toads and spiders don’t scare me.” With that, he stooped and threw open the cellar door, and his sister barely managed to stop it from banging shut again.
Hannah started down the steps behind her brother, walking backward so she could prop the door open. Then Sammy’s voice, echoing in the small enclosure, mocked, “Hannah is afraid!”
Angry, she swung around, lost her hold on the door, and it banged shut, knocking her down the steps.
Hannah rose to her knees, terrified by the darkness. If toads and spiders were near, she couldn’t even see them.
“Hannah, what happened?” cried Sammy. But she didn’t answer because she was startled at the heaviness of wet earth falling on her head and shoulders.
The roof is caving in! she thought. The door banging shut must have knocked the boards loose that Father had used as props.
Nearby she heard her little brother call, “Oh, Hannah, help! I’m all covered with dirt!”
“I’ll be there in a minute, Sammy,” Hannah promised as she groped in the dark, trying to find the door to shove it open. But her searching hands clutched at only wet dirt. The entrance was blocked. She and Sammy were trapped in the root cellar.
The darkness around them was like nothing Hannah had ever imagined. Blue-dark of night with silver starlight was nothing like this brown-dark with its loamy dankness, a blackness filled with shifting dirt particles.
Sammy was crying with loud, choking sobs. I mustn’t cry, Hannah thought, even though I’m scared too. We don’t have enough air, and my chest is beginning to hurt. She reached for her brother. When her hand touched his shoulder she struggled closer so that she could hug him.
“Don’t cry, Sammy,” she comforted. “We must try to breathe carefully so we don’t use up all the air in here.”
He gulped, “What can we do, Hannah?”
“We can pray,” she told him, and then closing her eyes Hannah began, “Heavenly Father, please help me and Sammy. We’re almost buried in this cellar and nobody’s home. Please help us get out.”
Talking hurt her throat so she said, “Amen,” silently. The air in the cellar was nearly gone.
Hannah was no longer worried about toads and spiders as she felt around the area where she and Sammy crouched. Her fingers touched a rough object. Running her hand across its surface she knew she had found a board Father had used to support the roof.
“Help me, Sammy,” she gasped. “Let’s try to poke a hole through the dirt over our heads.”
Her brother’s hands met hers. Together they grasped the splintery board, pushing it upright until Hannah felt it strike solid dirt.
“All right, Sammy. Let’s push, but be careful. We mustn’t knock any more dirt loose.”
Silent, gasping, they carefully prodded the unseen roof over their heads again and again.
Just as Sammy whispered, “I’m too tired, Hannah,” the board pushed free. They had broken through!
Sammy’s hands dropped, but Hannah, trembling, worked the board back and forth until she saw a blue circle of light. They had air, but would it be enough? There was still a tightness in her chest and Sammy, sobbing again, sounded feeble.
Hannah took a breath, then held it. “What’s that noise?” she whispered.
A steady thud thump, thud vibrated the dirt around them. Someone is outside, but Mother wouldn’t have come back from the Hansens so soon, Hannah decided.
Suddenly an opening that let in more light and air appeared near the door and a man’s voice called, “Anybody there?”
“Yes! We’re in here.”
“Are you OK?”
Hannah couldn’t answer, but the man said, “Stay calm. I’ll have you out in a minute.”
When a pair of hands appeared, Hannah somehow managed to push Sammy toward the opening where he could be pulled out. Then she felt strong fingers around her wrists, and she was pulled through the small opening made in the damp earth.
Hannah blinked in the bright, clean air as Brother Card looked down at her, a smile on his bearded face.
She stumbled to her feet beside Sammy just as Father’s horse clattered up. Jumping down, he ran to Sammy and Hannah and hugged them close. “Are you all right?” he asked anxiously.
“We are now, Father,” Hannah answered, “but we nearly smothered. The roof of the cellar caved in.”
“It’s all my fault,” Father said, rubbing his forehead. “I should have fixed that roof long ago.”
Brother Card comforted, “Now, don’t blame yourself, Joseph. Every settler in town has had more work to do than he has had time for.”
“Hannah saved us, Father,” Sammy said. “We poked a hole through the roof with a board.”
“That’s what I saw when I came by, which was a mighty strange thing for me to do,” Brother Card explained. “I haven’t crossed your property in the two years we’ve been neighbors, Joseph. I wasn’t going to this afternoon either. But for some reason my feet turned this way. First thing you know I saw that board sticking through the ground, waving like a signal. I guess the Lord guided me here.”
Sammy and Hannah smiled at each other. “Brother Card, we know He did,” Hannah said quietly.

Gennevieve Acain De Jesus traveled from Palawan with her family, after saving up with her seven-year old daughter for more than a year, selling baked goods, arrozcaldo, and champorado.
Her mother was supposed to be with them but she unexpectedly passed away weeks before the trip. Gennevieve brought a photo of her parents and snapped a picture with the temple in the background, symbolizing that they were still with her in spirit.
“When we saw the Temple, the burden was lifted off my back,” Gennevieve said.
They met old friends and new acquaintances.
“They were hugging us and happy to meet us,” she described. “The whole experience was like a gathering of Israel, a glimpse of a great reunion on Christ’s second coming.”

Here is another story told in President Murphy’s own words:
During one of my visits to the island of Molokai, I was invited to go to the hospital at Hoolehua to administer to a little girl.
On the way to the hospital her father said, “Our little girl Louise is very sick. The doctors all agree that she cannot live. During her few years in our home, she has shown great faith in the missionaries and the priesthood they hold. This morning when I told her that you were coming to visit us, she asked if you could give her a blessing.”
As we arrived at the hospital and entered a small room, I was shocked to find ten-year-old Louise Makaiwi too weak to move and too sick to speak. Tears rolled from her big brown eyes as she tried to shake hands with me. But she could not raise her little hand from the sheet on which it rested.
Louise’s father anointed her head with oil. I sealed the anointing and under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit promised this sweet little girl that she would live. Then I suggested that she be taken to Honolulu to be checked by specialists.
Louise was carried on a soft mattress to Honolulu. Several outstanding doctors examined her, but each shook his head. Not one gave any hope for her life.
Weak and weary, Louise was brought to the mission home, but because of her blessing she was not discouraged.
Louise returned home full of faith, and only a month later she stood in a testimony meeting and told how she had been healed by our Heavenly Father.
Louise speedily regained her health and became one of the loveliest girls in that wonderful land.

Recently I was tenderly hugging one of our precious little five-year-old granddaughters and said to her, “I love you, sweetheart.”
She responded rather blandly, “I know.”
I asked, “How do you know that I love you?”
“Because! You’re my grandfather!”
That was reason enough for her. Indeed, we do love our grandchildren. We also love our grandparents. I cherish the memories of life with three of my four grandparents. I never met my Grandfather Nelson. He died when my father was only 16 years old. At the time of Grandfather’s passing, he was superintendent of public instruction for the state of Utah. He owned a handsome pocket watch, which my father later gave to me. Now that watch is a tangible link between us.

Latter-day Saints also have a presence at West Point, the U.S. Army’s academy in upstate New York, and at the U.S. Naval Academy in Annapolis, Maryland. Consider this story about Midshipman Blake G. Jacobson:
One night while he was on watch, his upperclassman asked why the ring he wore bore the initials CTR instead of BGJ. Jacobson explained that the ring is often worn by members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and that CTR stands for Choose the Right. The upperclassman already knew Jacobson doesn’t smoke, drink, or swear.
A few days later, during a company inspection, the upperclassman suddenly yelled out, “Mr. Jacobson, what does it say on that ring you’re wearing?”
Jacobson was surprised, but barked out, “CTR, sir!”
“And what do those letters stand for, Mr. Jacobson?”
“Choose the Right, sir!”
“Correct. Men, from now on those letters are our company motto!”
From then on, the company chanted, “Choose the Right, left, Choose the Right, left,” as they marched around academy grounds. (Story submitted by Joe and Glo Jensen.)

A few years ago, while serving as a mission president, I received a call on a Sunday night from a leader at the Provo (Utah) Missionary Training Center. He said that a missionary who was assigned to our mission—and who would arrive the next day—was having a crisis of faith. While in the MTC, he had begun to question whether he really believed what he had been taught all his life. He then called his parents and said he needed to return home because he did not have a testimony. They were loving and supportive but encouraged him to give it at least one day in the mission field. He hesitantly agreed and the following day I sat with him in an initial interview. With much nervousness he described that he did not know how he could possibly be a missionary when he did not know if the Church and its teachings were true.
An inspired question came into my mind: “Elder, what do you know is true?”
“I know my family loves me.”
I then told him I would assign him a wonderful companion and encouraged him to simply go out and bear testimony of what he did know was true—how a loving Latter-day Saint family has blessed his life. I bore my testimony to him that as he studied the Book of Mormon each day and did all that was asked of a missionary, the Spirit would help him gain the testimony he desired. He nervously agreed to give it a try; and as he left the office, I wrote on my notepaper 50 percent (meaning there was a 50/50 chance he would make it through the first week).
All week long I worried about this sincere and good young missionary, who had so many doubts and who questioned his faith. I resisted the urge to call him and see how he was doing, knowing that might make it too easy for him to ask to be sent home. So instead I anxiously awaited his first weekly letter to the mission president. My joy was full as I read the following:
Dear President Palmer,
I can honestly say I’ve had a great past week. When I spoke with you in our interview, the only thing keeping me going was fear of what would happen if I went home. I truly had no desire to stay and serve a mission for two years.
But as of right now, I’m so glad that I stuck it out. I still don’t know everything that I need to. But just in the last few days I’ve come to fully understand how the Church brings change and happiness to people’s lives. That’s what I am basing my testimony on. I know I still have a lot to develop my faith on, but this is a huge step for me. I had been stuck between what I was learning in Church and what my brain was telling me made more logical sense. But I’ve felt the Holy Ghost.
On Saturday night, we taught a guy named Cory. My companion brought the Spirit so strongly, and I knew Cory was feeling it as strongly as I was. When it was my turn to speak, I explained how Joseph Smith read in James and then prayed to know if it was true. While I quoted the First Vision I could hardly breathe. My heart was pounding. It was so awesome.
Like I said earlier, I don’t have a testimony of everything yet, but one thing I cannot deny is that Cory’s life will never be the same. We didn’t even get the entire baptismal invitation out before he said yes. I couldn’t believe it. I just kept thinking back to what my mom said before I left the MTC, that if I didn’t really give it a real chance, I would never find out for myself. But I plan on doing that now.1
This young man went on to become an outstanding missionary, whose faith became strong as he continued to grow in his understanding of the gospel through diligent study — and who received powerful witnesses of the Spirit while bearing testimony to others.

On Sunday I noticed that the building his church met in was clean and beautiful. I felt something different there. I was met by a person who shook my hand and even put his arm around me, telling me he was happy to see me. I felt good, even though I was a bit shy and nervous. This brother took me to a class for investigators.
After the lesson two young women introduced themselves as full-time missionaries. They asked if they could visit me at my home. I quickly told them I was busy and started giving them excuses. But they still asked me to tell them when I was available, and I responded that I was available early Monday morning. I said they could come but only if they wanted to come at 4:00 A.M.
To my surprise, they looked at each other and said, “Brother Solomon, we will be there.” Then I insisted that it was hard to reach my family’s house, that it was located in the middle of a fishpond, that we had a lot of dogs. I told them they would have a hard time getting there. But they said again, “Brother Solomon, we will be there.” After I left, I forgot all about our appointment because I didn’t believe they would be coming.
Early Monday morning I was surprised to hear the dogs barking and a voice calling, “Brother Solomon! Brother Solomon!” I looked out the window, and I started to feel differently about the missionaries. I felt a confirmation that they were true servants of God. I invited them in and listened to their message. After a while I told them to come every day with a lesson, which they did. They taught me until I was prepared for baptism.

Except for the scriptures, I have never in my life read anything that has meant more to me than the July New Era, especially “Young Women Fireside 1980.” It truly brought tears to my eyes and strengthened my testimony of the gospel.
I am a 17-year-old girl who has been a member of the Church for just over two years. My parents are not members, and my family situation leaves a lot to be desired. During the past year I have spent time in the hospital because I was going to kill myself. I couldn’t handle things on my own anymore. With the help of the Church, I have been placed in a foster home and am doing great. I’ve come a long way in the past 4 1/2 months but still have a longer way to go. It really feels great to know that the Church is behind me 100 percent and that my brothers and sisters will always be there when I need them. When the Young Women fireside was broadcast, I was still very confused and didn’t go to it. I really wasn’t ready to hear it then. I’ve found that Heavenly Father only lets things occur when he knows we’re ready to handle them.
As I later read the talks in the New Era I felt as if every single speaker was talking to me personally, and I felt so full of the Spirit that I cried, as I am crying now. The youth of the Church don’t know how lucky they are to have the gospel in their lives and to have parents who love them very much. I’ve been on both sides of the street, and I know what it’s like. I know the Church is true with all that I am, and I thank my Heavenly Father every day for bringing it into my life.
Name Withheld

“I was trying to prove he was wrong,” said Diahann Piper, remembering the first time she accepted a challenge from a member to attend the small Latter-day Saint branch on the Caribbean island of St. Thomas.
“Brother Gerald Cox told me, ‘You just go and ask whatever questions you want. Nobody will force you to join the Church.’”
Diahann attended church expecting the worst, but the worst never happened. “Some of my friends were so against the Church. They told me all kinds of terrible things. When I went I kept waiting to see those things happen, but all I was seeing was love and more love.” Now Diahann is a member of the St. Thomas Branch.
For Diahann, joining the Church has brought some big changes in her life. “I had to change my attitude,” she said, “my style, my friends. I liked to go to the beach on Sundays, and I used bad language a lot. I had to change. Now I follow the prophet.”

Thomas (that is not his real name) was one who had lost his way. We became acquainted at a special fireside attended by members one doesn’t normally see on Sunday. He was then 35 years old and had not been active in the Church for some 20 years. The day before, Thomas’s father had invited him to attend the fireside. Thomas said, “I’ll think about it.” I quote now from a letter written by his father:
“Thirty minutes before the fireside, [Thomas] called and asked me to pick him up. I can’t explain the anticipation I felt as we walked into the room [to join] you and about 40 others. There was a special feeling and spirit there that touched [Tom’s] heart and he went home determined to read again the passages in the Book of Mormon that you had outlined.
“This led to a reading of the whole book and the beginning of his payment of tithing. He began to see his life in a different light. … He stopped using drugs and caffeine. He continued to read, not only the Book of Mormon, but also the Doctrine and Covenants. He started to attend sacrament meetings and … literally began to be a different person. In fact, we jokingly asked him, ‘What have you done with our son?’
“The great blessing to us was when he was interviewed by the bishop … to receive the Melchizedek Priesthood. This has truly been an answer to prayers which have been offered in his behalf for almost 20 years” (personal letter, 1 Aug. 1997).

May I share with you a personal experience to illustrate the above. There is, in the ward I just recently moved from, a group of teenage boys. Only one, a younger member of the group, had committed himself to serving a mission. As an older member of the group reached 19, he stated that maybe a mission wasn’t the best thing for him. Many interested members of the ward did “reprove” this young man for his decision. My opportunity came on a ski lift on a cold December day. In jest I said, “What are you going to be, a ski nut or a missionary?” He laughed and then proceeded to give me his reasons for staying home. On each subsequent trip up the lift we discussed his position, the fallacy of his reasons, his hazy standards and goals for life, the effect of his decision on the other members of his group, the long-range consequences of his decision, and ultimately what his explanation would be to the Lord for the lost opportunity to serve.
After prayerful consideration, more “reproving with sharpness,” and a sincere effort on his part, he decided to complete the application for a mission call. A short time after his departure I received a letter from him stating how great it was to be on a mission.

The workbook, Addiction Recovery Program: A Guide to Addiction Recovery and Healing (item no. 36764), outlines the 12 steps and the principles associated with them. Each step has a scripture study section with questions to ponder and space for writing. One participant says that the straightforward approach of the 12 steps gave him hope. By the time Clifford awoke from a coma caused by a drug overdose, his marriage and career had ended. He wondered how he could ever put his life back together. “To have the gospel in little bite-sized steps, 12 of them—I could do that,” he says.
Many say that steps four and five, which focus on personal inventory and confession, are the most challenging. But it depends on the individual. Paula, who struggled with compulsive eating and overdependence in her relationships, worked hardest on step eight—forgiving and restoring relationships—as she tried to forgive her abusive father. She says now, “I can’t tell you how grateful I am for this miracle in my life: to love and forgive.”
The change that has happened to me is I’m not miserable all the time. Sometimes it’s not easy. Perhaps the Lord doesn’t see fit to take it all from me right now, but He strengthens me so I can bear it patiently and cheerfully, and I can progress. He lightens it just enough that I learn the most that I can.
The gospel teaches that grace comes through the Atonement of Jesus Christ (see Ether 12:27). Grace is an enabling power that makes recovery possible. It is “divine means of help or strength” that helps us do good works we wouldn’t be able to do or maintain by ourselves.2
Suzanne, who went through the program herself before becoming a Church-service missionary, says, “I knew that God could tell me what to do, but I never knew He had the power to help me do it. Now I understand the grace that comes through the Atonement of Jesus Christ.”
Through grace, participants regain the hope they have lost. One participant, Edward, grew up in the Church, but his childhood insecurities left him feeling that he wasn’t as good as other people. He says, “I didn’t understand the Atonement, and I didn’t love myself, so nothing really mattered.” When he was in his 20s, he started drinking and using drugs in an attempt to dull his negative feelings—a pattern that continued for 20 years.
When he was arrested a second time for drunk driving, he was ordered to get treatment. In the Church’s program, he learned that receiving forgiveness and regaining a sense of self-worth were possible. He attended church every Sunday, studied the 12 steps, and applied these gospel principles and actions to his life. He became willing to turn his life over to Heavenly Father and, in the process, learned how to love himself and how to let the Atonement work in his life. “I couldn’t overcome all these things by myself,” he says. “The Savior can do for me what I can’t do for myself.”
Those who struggle with addiction aren’t the only ones who can experience a mighty change: loved ones find that as they apply the 12 steps to their own lives and attend recovery meetings, they can experience the blessings of the Atonement in regard to their own grief. In some areas the addiction recovery program provides support groups for family and friends, who discover that the Savior can heal them of the pain, anger, and guilt that loved ones sometimes feel.
When Deborah learned of her son’s drug addiction, she was plagued by feelings of guilt as she thought about how she could have been a better mother. Then she discovered that she could apply the steps to herself. She says, “What I learned in the program is that no matter how my son is doing, I can still be happy and have Heavenly Father in my life.” She adds, “On the outside I look the same, but my life has completely changed on the inside.”
Shannon, whose husband faced a pornography addiction, attended the support group for spouses. As she participated, she noticed a change in herself as well. At first she focused on the pain she felt over her husband’s addiction. But then, as she started learning and applying the steps, a miraculous change occurred. She says, “I began talking less and less about my husband and more about what I had learned from each step. I began to see how the Lord was working in my life.”
In the past I was able to abstain for periods of time. I’d get myself back in good standing with the Church and serve in callings, and everyone would tell me how great I was. But I didn’t feel great on the inside at all. And that’s why abstaining is just one part of it. True recovery is not doing it and not wanting to do it because our nature is changed.
Mark learned that through the Atonement, individuals can not only stop their addictive behaviors but also heal the underlying causes of their addiction. And with the help of their priesthood leaders, they can repent and bring the blessings of the gospel back into their lives. Doug LeCheminant of LDS Family Services clarifies the objective of the program: “Our end goal for those in the program is that they will be able to make and keep temple covenants—not just stay sober.” The sweetest fruits are activation, baptism or rebaptism, priesthood advancement, temple ordinances, and restoration of blessings.
Steve, who found himself in jail wearing his church suit, says, “Today I’m clean and sober because of my Heavenly Father and the 12 steps.” His activity in the Church is especially meaningful to him. “I am a father. I am a priests quorum adviser. I am also a facilitator because I want to give back to a program that gave so freely to me.”
Every day I seek my Heavenly Father in prayer and through the scriptures. In the morning I read books about recovery, and I write my feelings and my impressions. I call a support person in the program to help clarify my thinking. I go to the meetings. I try to serve. And I have never relapsed on a day that I have done those things.
Those daily tasks keep Mark spiritually well. Others who have been through the program have discovered the same truth: maintaining spiritual strength requires continuous effort. No one is completely safe from relapse, but through daily gospel living, those who struggle with addiction come unto Christ and receive strength and hope.
“I’m learning bit by bit, precept upon precept,” says Mark. “My nature is changing, and it’s the first time since this started that I can say I have hope. I truly believe that I never have to relapse again.”

How do you choose a wife? I’ve heard a lot of young people from Brigham Young University and elsewhere say, “I’ve got to get a feeling of inspiration. I’ve got to get some revelation. I’ve got to fast and pray and get the Lord to manifest to me whom I should marry.” Well, maybe it will be a little shock to you, but never in my life did I ever ask the Lord whom I ought to marry. It never occurred to me to ask him. I went out and found the girl I wanted; she suited me; I evaluated and weighed the proposition, and it just seemed a hundred percent to me as though this ought to be. Now, if I’d done things perfectly, I’d have done some counseling with the Lord, which I didn’t do; but all I did was pray to the Lord and ask for some guidance and direction in connection with the decision that I’d reached. A more perfect thing to have done would have been to counsel with him relative to the decision and get a spiritual confirmation that the conclusion, which I by my agency and faculties had arrived at, was the right one.

I was born and raised in El Progreso, a small town in Guatemala. When I was about 10 years old, an unusual pamphlet came into my hands. It contained the story of Joseph Smith, a young boy who saw a vision of God the Eternal Father and His Son, Jesus Christ.
I was deeply impressed by this story. Unsatisfied with the training I was receiving in the religion of my parents, I wanted to know more about the boy in the pamphlet. But I didn’t know where to get information. In time I lost the pamphlet, but I never forgot about it. I wondered if I would ever find another like it.
As a teenager and young adult, I investigated several religious denominations. I even took classes in their doctrine and received diplomas. But there were aspects of these religions that troubled me, and I felt uncomfortable with the criticism that clergy of different faiths sometimes directed at one another. By this time I had started reading the Bible, and as I compared the Bible with what I saw in the religions I had studied, I became convinced those religions lacked God’s authority.
I knelt many times in prayer, pleading with God to guide me to His true Church. I promised that if He did, I would be faithful in keeping His commandments and I would always serve Him.
I had dreams, too, in which I told God I was willing to do anything to receive forgiveness for my sins. I would wake up and find my pillow wet with tears. I also asked God to help me find the pamphlet about Joseph Smith again.
By 1968 I had a wife and a son. We moved to Guatemala City so I could find better employment. On 20 November 1975, two young American women, simply dressed, knocked on our door. They said they had a message for my family. We made an appointment for them to come back at a later time.
I remember the first discussion clearly. One of the young women said a prayer, and then the other one began to talk about Joseph Smith. In her hands was a copy of the pamphlet I had read as a boy! My search for the truth had come to an end in my own living room.
No words can express what I felt at that moment. I wanted to snatch the pamphlet out of her hands. The sisters noticed the way I was looking at it and said they would leave it with me. When they gave me that precious pamphlet, I could hardly believe it. I put it in my shirt pocket to keep it near my heart.
Two days later the missionaries returned. When they saw the pamphlet in my pocket, they asked if I had read it. I told them they didn’t realize what it meant to me. I explained I had read it as a boy and had prayed to find it again.
On Sunday our family went to church. We arrived very early, and the sisters were surprised to see us. They hadn’t really invited us, just told us where the building was.
The sisters continued to teach us. Although they didn’t speak Spanish very well, they taught by the Holy Ghost. When they taught us about repentance, I felt something I had never felt before and started to cry. Then I realized we were all crying. I was convinced I had found the true Church.
My wife, Rosa Élida, had a similar experience. It happened when the sisters invited us to be baptized. “Sister Salguero,” they asked, “do you want to follow the Savior?” She realized right then that she did.
When I asked the Lord to help me find His Church, I promised I would serve Him. From the first time I went to church, I have faithfully attended and have tried to serve diligently. I have had many wonderful Church callings, including serving twice as bishop. My wife has served in the Primary and Relief Society and in the family history program. My eldest son served a full-time mission, and now his younger brother is preparing to serve. We have two daughters who are also active in the Church.
Whenever I am asked to speak in church, I try to communicate the joy I feel as a member of the Lord’s Church. I know that God lives and that through the Prophet Joseph Smith He has restored to us His gospel, His Church, and the authority of His priesthood.