Gospel Story Finder

My heart jumped as I read the poster: “Handel’s Messiah performed by the Swansea Orchestra and Welsh Choir.”
I had been on my mission in Swansea, Wales, for six months and felt the longing that often comes to new missionaries during the Christmas season. We had many family traditions during the holidays, but my favorite was going to hear Handel’s Messiah. My mother had played the organ for many such performances. I would sit, listen, and feel the music.
With permission from the mission president, I purchased tickets for the missionaries in our area. The night of the performance, our group bundled up against the cold and walked to the concert hall. I silently prayed that we would all feel the sacredness of the inspiring music.
When we arrived, I realized that we were late and that the performance had already started. We weren’t going to be allowed inside until intermission! As I listened to the music through the doors, I could not hold back the tears.
An usher must have noticed my desperation and decided to let us in. He told us to stand in the back until the intermission so that we didn’t interrupt the singing. He slowly opened the doors, and we all quietly stepped inside.
Walking into the hall was like walking into heaven. The feeling of peace and joy overwhelmed me. It wasn’t long, however, before we noticed people turning their heads, pointing and staring at us. All of us had entered quietly and didn’t know what we had done to bring attention to ourselves. As soon as the intermission began, we found our seats.
When the oratorio resumed, the music filled my soul. I wept during the “Hallelujah Chorus,” and when the soprano sang “I Know That My Redeemer Liveth.” The missionaries beside me also felt the power of the music and grabbed their handkerchiefs. The experience was something we would always remember. But it wasn’t until the performance had ended that the truly memorable moment came.
As we were leaving the building, people were still whispering and pointing, but no one said anything until we were outside. A man then approached us, saying, “It was you! It was you!”
We all waited for an explanation.
“During the first part of the performance, we felt a change in the room—a strong feeling that Christ was there,” the man said. “So we turned to see what had caused the change. When we looked to the back of the auditorium, we saw seven figures glowing as if they were angels. When you came into the room, you brought the Holy Ghost. You were there to represent Christ; you were the angels.”
As he spoke, I looked down at my missionary name tag and read the bold lettering under my name: “The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.” How humbled I was at that moment to be a representative of the Messiah and to have silently testified of Him that night before thousands of people.

During World War II, a friend of mine was serving in the South Pacific when his plane was shot down over the ocean. He and the other crew members successfully parachuted from the burning plane, inflated their life rafts, and clung to those rafts for three days.
On the third day they spotted what they knew to be a rescue vessel. It passed them by. The next morning it passed them by again. They began to despair as they realized that this was the last day the rescue vessel would be in the area.
Then the Holy Spirit spoke to my friend: “You have the priesthood. Command the rescuers to pick you up.”
He did as prompted: “In the name of Jesus Christ and by the power of the priesthood, turn about and pick us up.”
Within a few minutes the vessel was beside them, helping them on deck. A faithful and worthy bearer of the priesthood, in his extremity, had exercised that priesthood, blessing his life and the lives of others.

“This year was a really hard year for me. Pretty much all of my waking hours were taken up with my schoolwork, upcoming piano exam, and seminary homework and reading assignments. It was hard to cope with, and I struggled and cried a lot in the beginning. I also fasted and prayed a lot for the Lord’s strength to help me cope and to be cheerful while I did.

“Then, in general conference, I was deeply touched by President Nelson’s talk—it was as if he was speaking directly to me. It gave me so much courage to hold on to my faith and endure to the end. When my school finals ended a few weeks later, it was tempting to dedicate all my time to practicing music for my piano exam, but I remembered what President Nelson said about how focusing on Christ will bring you joy, and I chose to work on finishing my seminary work first. After that, I focused on my music and took my piano exam.

“In the end, I passed everything! I did well in my schoolwork, in seminary, and on my music exam. Most important, my faith in the Lord was strengthened, because during the struggle I was able to feel joyful. And now I feel joyful because I endured it well.”

Victoria H., 16, Selangor, Malaysia

This young woman enjoys her life now, but she didn’t always feel that way. Here’s an account of how she found peace after struggling with feelings of worthlessness and suicide. We hope that hearing this true experience will reassure you that your journey is also important. If you are struggling with hopeless thoughts, please don’t give up—you are not alone. Your life is valuable, and you are loved. Hang on. Things will get better.
Answer: I struggled as a child. I had a wonderful family and didn’t go through any obvious tragedies, but I always seemed to feel angry at myself and those around me. I would take these feelings out on my siblings. The more I mistreated them, the worse I felt. And yet I couldn’t seem to stop. This behavior drove a wedge between me and my family members. When I was 12 years old, I thought I was an evil, rotten, worthless person. I thought everyone would be better off without me.
Answer: I remember one time at the doctor’s office, the pediatrician asked Mom if she had ever heard her children say, “I wish I’d never been born.” And Mom answered, “No, all of the kids are fine.” I was surprised that Mom didn’t know I had thought about killing myself. So I tried to tell her what I was going through. But she acted so shocked that it made me never want to talk about it again. I pretended that I hadn’t really meant it.
Answer: Yes, but I didn’t really understand what a testimony was. I always knew deep down that there was a God, but Satan was working hard to convince me to doubt everything else. So I started wondering if the entire Church was wrong. Fortunately, I had some great Young Women leaders who were inspired to help me and show me a lot of love. One of them in particular helped me start feeling better about myself.
Answer: A bright spot was my Young Women class. I had a teacher who taught right at my level. She’s since moved away, and I wish I could tell her what she meant to me. I don’t remember what she taught exactly, but I remember feeling like I belonged there.
Another thing that really helped were temple trips. Even though I often felt worthless and didn’t think anyone cared about me, I enjoyed the spark of light and goodness of the temple. I often felt the Spirit there. One trip in particular made a difference. It started out bad because one of the older girls said something hurtful to me. But later that day, she apologized and gave me a hug. And I learned that I really liked hugs! After that, I asked her for a hug every Sunday. One Sunday I sat down in sacrament meeting without getting a hug from her. And she came up to me and said, “Where’s my hug?” with a smile. I felt so surprised and special that she sought me out and showed me love. She and I became closer and closer friends. I know hugs don’t help everyone, but they helped me.
Answer: Sure! She was the craziest, most energetic person I have ever known. She seemed to have never-ending amounts of happiness to share. She greeted me with so much enthusiasm and love every Sunday and gave me a hug. Her dose of goodness seemed to be just what I needed. I would carry it with me during the week. Over time, I began to accept that what she said was true. The Spirit was working on me. This is when my behavior finally started to improve in a lasting way. And my suicidal thoughts, which I’d had about a year, went away, though I still had to work on how I felt about myself.
Answer: Another turning point was when I began to volunteer at a nonprofit organization each week with my older brother and my mom. I was sometimes the only volunteer on my team who showed up regularly, so my supervisor counted on me. I found I really liked that. For example, one time we were cleaning up together, and she got called away to do something else. I kept sweeping and working hard. When she came back, she said that I had really good initiative and gave me so many compliments. And it felt so good. I realized that working hard and doing a good job was fun. Helping was fun! So I began to try my hardest to be the best volunteer that I could be. I gained enough experience to train other volunteers. I developed a passion for this organization and made friends.
Photograph from Getty Images
During this time, my behavior continued to change in positive ways as I felt the Spirit increase in my life. Over the next couple of years, I made friends again with my family members. I started feeling like a good person instead of a bad person. I became a happier person. People even commented on how much I smiled. And my happiness no longer depended on having a leader saying good things at church. My testimony of Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ was growing, and I could feel Their love for me.
Answer: My testimony keeps growing stronger. I know now that Heavenly Father loves every one of us—including me. I know the Book of Mormon is the word of God. I know that no matter what mistakes we have made, we can come back to goodness. We can repent through the Atonement of Jesus Christ. Anyone can return to Him again.
Answer: Please, if you are experiencing low self-worth, or depression, or want to die, or any other feelings like that, reach out for help. Go to a parent, a youth leader, a former Primary teacher, a bishop, even a friend—anyone you feel you can trust. I promise you that Heavenly Father does not want you to die. He wants you to live and feel joy. He wants you to feel His love. Turn to Jesus Christ. He can help you throughout your trials. He knows everything you are going through. Meanwhile, Satan is the one who tells you lies about yourself. Ignore him. He wants you to fail. Heavenly Father wants you to succeed.
Answer: Honestly, I still have a hard time accepting compliments or believing good things about myself sometimes. And I think insults hurt me more than they hurt most people, even if they’re just a joke. I still sometimes have a hard time believing that people love me until I feel convinced. But overall, I like myself and who I am becoming. It is a glorious feeling!

Well, the first two or three weeks out there weren’t bad. While war was very much on our minds because of our previous training and the films we’d seen and all of the other things that train a boy to be what he ought to be in war, it still wasn’t real. Interestingly enough, during the first two weeks of our voyage, the army and navy, because they are always interested in the well-rounded personality, held a general church service every evening at 5:00 where we could come and sing a common song, whether we were Jew, Catholic, gentile, or Latter-day Saint, something that would bind us together in a religious cause. And the chaplain would talk to us for four or five minutes, and then we’d just sit and visit and talk about home and girls and all the other things that seem to be important to men at that stage of their lives, and then we’d be dismissed—about an hour of service every day at 5:00. Out of 3,000 there were 35 or 40 who used to go to this little service every day. Thirty-five or forty! That’s typical of life, isn’t it, as you look at your campus, your stake, your ward, or surrounding communities?
As we entered the third week, things started to pick up in tempo a little bit. They brought out some big rubber relief maps, and they had our target island depicted right down to the last palm tree and pill box, everything perfectly marked. Then they’d say, “Boat team 27 (that was mine), you’re going in.” And then, since it was the last hour and because they didn’t have room in the regular meeting place, we held the evening services topside on the bow. And there was one of the most interesting studies of human life I have ever watched in my life.
Do you know what happened that July 21, 1944? Three thousand men came to church! How about that? Three thousand got kind of excited about higher values in life. When the crisis is really on, watch people get religion. They sensed, as you can only when the chips are down, the need for higher aid, be they merchant, criminal, or ball player.
Well, I’ll never forget that church service conducted by a marvelous Protestant chaplain. I don’t even know what faith he represented. But bless his heart, he was honest and sincere, and he came straight to the point. I’ll never forget that calm day; the water was almost like glass, and we were sitting out there, 3,000 strong, singing that opening song, “Abide With Me, ‘Tis Eventide.” Can you imagine a chorus of 3,000 male soldiers letting their souls go, probably in many cases for the first time in their lives. Can you imagine what that sounds like? And you could even hear other ships echoing the same type of activity. There was a brief opening prayer, and then the chaplain got as serious as I’ve ever seen a man.
He said, “Men, I’m not going to kid you tonight. You’ve been training for the last year for what you’re going to do tomorrow, and you know full well what’s before you. Army statistics tell us that in an invasion like you’re going to experience tomorrow morning, a lot of you aren’t going to make it. We’ve got to pay a price to get this island.” He said, “If our records are accurate, half of you will lay your lives down sometime before 8:00 tomorrow morning. What I’m trying to say, men, is that one-half of you will be standing before your Maker tomorrow morning at 8:00. Are you ready?”
Well now, what would you say, young people? I was 18 years old at the time. If someone said, “Tomorrow morning at 8:00 you’re giving an accounting to the Savior for your life and your attitude and your activity,” how would you feel? There I was, sitting out there thinking of all my great and glorious ball days. See how insignificant they appear to be all of a sudden? Contracts and fame and fortune—a lot of nonsense, aren’t they, when you get right down to what really counts?
And for the first time I wanted to know something about the validity of religion. Does God really live? Why am I out here? Why should I take the life of a person I’ve never even seen before? Thousands of questions like that started to rush through my mind. Why? Why? Why? And it’s questions like that we ought to ask right now. Why do we do any of the things we’re doing in this existence of ours?

You know, every member is a missionary. I think President David O. McKay first emphasized that duty. I was up in Montana some time ago visiting a stake conference. After the morning session, I was wandering around outside. I saw this young boy standing there all dressed up in his Sunday clothes. I went over to him and said, “Son, you’re a fine-looking boy. What’s your name?”
He said, “Joseph Smith Curdy.”
I said, “Joseph Smith Curdy! That’s a fine name. You’re going to be a great missionary.”
He said, “I’m already a great missionary. Down the street a couple of blocks from where we live there’s a family with a couple of boys about my age, and over a period of three or four months, I have been bringing them to church with me. A month or so ago, I said to them, ‘How would you like to have the missionaries give you the discussions?’
“They said, ‘Oh, we’d have to talk to our parents.’
“So we talked to the parents, and the parents said, ‘Well, if you will let us listen in, why we’ll be glad to have the missionaries teach them.’”
There wasn’t any problem with that, so the missionaries gave the family the discussions. Joseph Smith Curdy told me, “That whole family is going to be baptized next Saturday. I’m already a great missionary.”
I couldn’t help but agree with him.

Lynn hurried up the street to investigate a large box on the ground next to Grandma Cooper’s gate. Shiny red material hung over the rim of the box, and a sign in Grandma’s handwriting said:
FREE
HELP YOURSELF
“Oh, it’s beautiful!” Lynn gasped as she began to pull the fabric from the box. She stretched on her tiptoes until both arms were straight above her head and the material billowed around her. Grandma’s drapes! Lynn thought, hugging the cloth to her. I guess she won’t need them in her new apartment. I can use them to make something wonderful!
Lynn stuffed the drapes back into the box and gave it a tug. It didn’t move. Using both hands, she gave the box another tug. It scraped along the ground a few inches. Lynn squeezed in between the fence and the box and, bracing herself, gave a mighty shove.
“What are you doing?”
Lynn spotted the skateboard under Kenny’s arm. “Hi, Kenny,” she said with a big smile. “Would you help me, please?”
Kenny looked from Lynn to the big box and back at Lynn. “What do you want me to do?” he asked.
“If I could get these beautiful drapes home, I just know I could make something wonderful,” she told him. “Could we put the box on your skateboard and push it to my house?”
Kenny knelt beside the box for a closer look. “My house is closer,” he said thoughtfully. “We could make a tepee.”
“No!” Lynn wailed. “You’ll use all of it, and I want to make something wonderful.”
“No, I won’t, Lynn, honest,” Kenny promised. “Besides you can play in the tepee too. And I’ll let you borrow my wagon to take the rest of the drapes home.”
“Well, OK,” Lynn agreed.
Together Kenny and Lynn managed to get the box up onto the skateboard. They had pushed it almost to Kenny’s house when Patty rode up on her bike.
“What’s in the box?” she asked.
“Grandma Cooper’s old curtains,” Lynn told her. “We’re going to make a tepee at Kenny’s, and I’m going to take what’s left of them home and make something wonderful!”
“Wow!” Patty peered into the box. “Could I have some to make curtains for my stage?” she asked.
Lynn started to shake her head, then stopped and said, “OK, if you’ll help us make the tepee first.”
Later, when the three children stood back to look, the tall red tepee seemed to glow in the sun. Patty broke the spell. “Come on, Lynn. Now let’s go to my house.”
“Thanks, Lynn,” said Kenny as they tied his wagon to Patty’s bike. “Come over tomorrow and we’ll play in the tepee. You, too, Patty.”
The girls were going through the gate at Patty’s house when Mrs. Whistler walked by with her baby. “Hi, girls,” she called. “You look busy. What are you pulling in the wagon?”
Patty beamed. “My stage is going to have real curtains. Lynn is giving me the material for them.”
Mrs. Whistler reached into the box and ran her fingers over the fabric. “What beautiful material,” she said. “It would make a gorgeous party dress.”
Patty and Lynn looked at each other. Mrs. Whistler couldn’t afford many pretty things.
“If you’ll help us make the curtains for the stage, Mrs. Whistler, you can have some material for a dress,” Lynn offered.
“Really? Oh, thank you!” she exclaimed. “But I’d be glad to help you, anyway.”
That evening Lynn sat on the floor of her room, looking at a single piece of shiny red cloth. When her mother walked by the open door, she stopped and asked, “Where did you get that pretty material, honey?”
“Grandma Cooper gave it away,” Lynn said. “It isn’t very big. But do you think there’s enough to make something wonderful?”
“Yes, I think so,” said Mother. “How about a doll dress or a heart-shaped pillow?” She hesitated, then turned the empty box upside down and spread the cloth over it. “How about a tablecloth for a party?”
Lynn clapped her hands. “Oh, yes! Let’s do that. And let’s invite Grandma Cooper to the party!”

This summer, while we were camping, my little brother fell into the fire and burned his hand badly. We prayed, then Mom saddled our horse and told me to ride and find my dad, who wasn’t with us yet. I had to go four miles (over 6 km) to get out of the canyon. I looked and looked but couldn’t find Dad. When I got to the locked gate that led to the main road, I got off and walked to it. I heard a voice in my head telling me to go back the other way. So I walked back to my horse and rode the other way—and found Dad! We were able to get my brother to the hospital, where he was helped.Aubrey Kofford, age 8Pingree, Idaho

George Albert was very ill. The doctor had diagnosed typhoid fever, a dread disease at that time, and ordered the boy to stay in bed for at least three weeks. His mother was told that George Albert should have only liquids and that she should brew him some coffee.
At this very young age, he demonstrated a great faith in his Heavenly Father and a willingness to follow His commandments. George Albert wanted to get well, of course, but he didn’t want to disobey the Word of Wisdom. He asked his mother to bring him water instead of coffee and to send for their ward teacher.
Brother Hawks came quickly in answer to Mrs. Smith’s request and gave George Albert a blessing, promising him that he would soon be well. And the very next morning when the boy awakened, the fever was gone and young George felt much better. Some years later in telling a group of children about this experience, he said, “I was grateful to the Lord for my recovery. I am sure that he healed me.”

Fifty-one years ago I heard William J. Critchlow Jr., then president of the South Ogden Stake who would later become an Assistant to the Quorum of the Twelve, speak to the brethren of the general priesthood session of conference and retell a story concerning trust, honor, and duty. May I share the story with you. Its simple lesson applies to us today, as it did then.
“[Young] Rupert stood by the side of the road watching an unusual number of people hurry past. At length he recognized a friend. ‘Where are all of you going in such a hurry?’ he asked.
“The friend paused. ‘Haven’t you heard?’ he said.
“‘I’ve heard nothing,’ Rupert answered.
“‘Well,’ continued [the] friend, ‘the King has lost his royal emerald! Yesterday he attended a wedding of the nobility and wore the emerald on the slender golden chain around his neck. In some way the emerald became loosened from the chain. Everyone is searching, for the King has offered a reward … to the one who finds it. Come, we must hurry.’
“‘But I cannot go without asking Grandmother,’ faltered Rupert.
“‘Then I cannot wait. I want to find the emerald,’ replied his friend.
“Rupert hurried back to the cabin at the edge of the woods to seek his grandmother’s permission. ‘If I could find it we could leave this hut with its dampness and buy a piece of land up on the hillside,’ he pleaded with Grandmother.
“But his grandmother shook her head. ‘What would the sheep do?’ she asked. ‘Already they are restless in the pen, waiting to be taken to the pasture, and please do not forget to take them to water when the sun shines high in the heavens.’
“Sorrowfully, Rupert took the sheep to the pasture, and at noon he led them to the brook in the woods. There he sat on a large stone by the stream. ‘If I could only have had a chance to look for the King’s emerald!’ he thought. Turning his head to gaze down at the sandy bottom of the brook, suddenly he stared into the water. What was it? It could not be! He leaped into the water, and his gripping fingers held something that was green with a slender bit of gold chain [that had been broken]. ‘The King’s emerald!’ he shouted. ‘It must have been flung from the chain when the King [astride his horse galloped across the bridge spanning the stream, and the current carried] it here.’
“With shining eyes Rupert ran to his grandmother’s hut to tell her of his great find. ‘Bless you, my boy,’ she said, ‘but you never would have found it if you had not been doing your duty, herding the sheep.’ And Rupert knew that this was the truth” (in Conference Report, Oct. 1955, 86; paragraphing, capitalization, and punctuation altered).

The union of Brother Destiny Uyinmwen (stake YSA leader from the Benin City Nigeria New Benin Stake) and Sister Blessing Aigbokhan (YSA from the Benin City Nigeria Oregbeni Stake) was a long-awaited match made possible because both individuals chose to stay on the covenant path and to be in places where they could feel the Spirit of the Lord in their lives.
Their fairy tale romance was built upon the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. They met at a training meeting for stake YSA members serving on seminary committees from around the area. This training meeting occurred three weeks before their multi-stake YSA Summit in 2024.
Sister Blessing was undecided about attending the Summit, but Destiny invited her to be his date at one of the Summit events, and after some discussion, she agreed. During the Summit, they got to know each other and learned that they had both served missions and were committed to building a righteous family in the gospel.
Destiny said, “I wanted to marry someone humble, teachable, and with a desire to keep learning together.” Blessing noted that she followed Elder David A. Bednar’s counsel to not look for perfection in a spouse but to seek potential and develop oneself to embody the qualities one desires. Her favorite quote from Elder Bednar is, “You don’t find love for marriage; you create it.”
Destiny proposed at the YSA end-of-year party on December 27, 2024, and the two were married three months later, with the support and well-wishes of their family and friends.
They immediately set their goal to live as a team. Destiny learned a skill before his mission, working with diesel and gas generators. They built upon his skill set to establish a business. Blessing takes the lead in selling electrical and other machine parts, while Destiny repairs, sells, and installs new generators. Together, they support the needs of every customer. They’re not wasting any time in becoming self-reliant, both temporally and spiritually.
Their advice to other young single adults is to always “think celestial.” Brother Destiny says, “Now is the time to rely on your Savior, Jesus Christ, and include Him in everything you want in life. When you rely on Him, He will be there in your decision-making, and you’ll know when the time is right.” In the end, he said, “Fear not; I know He will direct your path as He has directed mine.”

Holly loved the towering pine tree in front of her home. Its branches shaded her favorite place to play.
The day of the accident, there were three younger children listening to Holly read under the tree. Suddenly, in her mind, something whispered to her. Holly’s heart started to thump as the command echoed in her head, “Move!” She responded at once. Scrambling to her feet, she shouted to the children to run. She grabbed the smallest one, and the rest followed. The children thought it was a game until they heard a terrible crash.
A driver had lost control of his car and hit the big pine tree where the children had been reading only minutes before. They would have been badly hurt if they hadn’t moved. Some of the children were so frightened that they started to cry. But not Holly. She was thinking about the small voice she had heard in her mind and heart that told her to move. She knew that the warning had come to her from the Holy Ghost. The gift that she had received from Heavenly Father after she had been baptized and confirmed had helped her, just as she had been promised (see Elaine Cannon, Baptized and Confirmed: Your Lifeline to Heaven, Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1986, pp. 36–37).

Needing income, Henry and his father went downriver to St. Louis, Missouri, to find jobs. His father joined George Betts’s shoe shop, which employed 25 men. Henry took a job at a small shop belonging to three LDS shoemakers. His mother and sisters joined them in St. Louis in the spring.
Henry’s good friends from Nauvoo, Algernon and John Rigdon, visited him in his new home. Their father, who had been Joseph Smith’s counselor, had decided to leave the Church and was moving to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. In “the last conversation that I had with them as we were saying good-bye,” Henry said, “the boys declared that they would return to the Church. … Knowing they were … sincere, I expected for some years to hear from them but was disappointed.” (John Rigdon rejoined the Church in 1904 just before he died.)

Three years later, I met two missionaries at a railway station in Tokyo. They invited me to listen to their message. I brought my Book of Mormon to our next meeting.
They began the conversation by saying, “We would like to share an important book with you.”
I took the Book of Mormon from my bag and asked, “Is it this book? I’ve already read it.”
They were stunned. Eventually, I was taught the gospel, and the missionaries encouraged me to ask God with a sincere heart if the Book of Mormon is true (see Moroni 10:4–5).
One night I thought about God, the Church, the Book of Mormon, and how I could be happy and felt something warm inside. Then I decided to be baptized.

Ashly’s family in 2021
Photograph by Lori Romney Photography
I didn’t realize the safety the gospel of Jesus Christ provided me until I gave up my agency to addiction. I started drinking and smoking weed at age 14. When I was 16, I spent 15 months in a lockdown adolescent facility. When I left, I relapsed. I was stealing to get money for drugs, and I had limited contact with my family. At one point I lived with a family who were all dealing and doing drugs. My situation was dark and scary. I was as low as you can get. By the time I was 19, I was addicted to heroin.
For a long time, I didn’t think I had it in me to achieve long-term sobriety or live a life of peace or fulfillment. Nevertheless, I saw God’s hand in my life in small miracles, like finding a Book of Mormon bookmark in an old Bible or having my dad’s unending love and support. Through these small messages, I heard the Lord’s voice.
I got sober from heroin and decided to “experiment” and see what would happen if I did everything God asked me to do (see Alma 32:27). I decided that if keeping the commandments made me happy, I would stay sober. Quitting cigarettes and coffee and going through the repentance process was tough. But I felt different after I did. I started to feel safe.
Throughout my years of addiction, I attended meetings of the Church’s addiction recovery program. I even met my future husband at one of the meetings. Each time I attended, I was welcomed with open arms. It was a safe place for me. During one meeting, a man offered to say a special prayer for me. That night I felt Heavenly Father’s love for me. I felt worthy of being clean. I got sober one month later.
For almost five years now, I have been a facilitator in the addiction recovery program. My favorite part about the meetings is that you can see and experience the gospel of Jesus Christ at work. There are no feelings of comparing yourself with others or concerns about being accepted. People are there because they need God. And they are willing to set pride aside to feel His peace.
These meetings are one of the places that I have felt the Spirit the most in my life. The meetings are a place of love, support, and hope. They are a place of safety where pain and problems are shared and where we truly can help bear each other’s burdens.
I feel that when people are early in recovery, God is so present in their lives. Small miracles and tender mercies happen regularly, and I believe that they are little nudges from God to keep these people going in the right direction.
It has been an honor for me to be able to use my experience with addiction and getting clean to give hope to those who still struggle. If I could go back in time, knowing what I know now, I would choose to follow the counsel of our Church leaders. I would choose not to try drugs or alcohol. But I know that the Lord can work all things to the good of those who love Him. I know that is what has happened for me. I have been able to turn my heartache and pain into a message of hope.

When Joseph was about six or seven years old, he and his brothers and sisters were stricken with typhus fever. Although the others recovered readily, Joseph was left with a painful sore on his leg. The doctors, using the best medicine they had, treated him, and yet the sore persisted. In order to save Joseph’s life, they said, he would have to lose his leg. Thankfully, however, soon after that diagnosis, the doctors returned to the Smith home and reported that there was a new procedure which might save Joseph’s leg. They wanted to operate immediately and had brought some cord with which to tie little Joseph to the bed so that he wouldn’t thrash about, since they had nothing with which to dull the pain. Young Joseph, however, told them, “You won’t need to tie me.”

The doctors suggested he take some brandy or wine so that the pain might not be so severe. “No,” young Joseph replied. “If my father will sit on the bed and hold me in his arms, I will do whatever is necessary.” Joseph Smith Sr. held in his arms his small child, and the doctors removed the diseased piece of bone. Although young Joseph was lame for some time afterward, he was healed. At such a young age and countless other times throughout his life, Joseph Smith taught us courage—by example.

I recall an experience I had on one occasion as a young man in the military service. I thought about it a few years ago when we had the repatriation of some of our military men from overseas. I’d been away from home about four years. We were given points. You got a point for every month you’d been overseas, a point for the number of battles you had been in, and so on, and high-point man went back to the States first.
Of course, there were millions of men to be brought back, and shipping was taxed, so there was nothing more important than to look at the bulletin board and see the points come down. At once you were earning more, and someday you got to the point where you knew the next ship in would be the one that would take you home. I saw that on the bulletin board and thanked the Lord that I could go home finally.
It was that day that my commanding officer called me in and told me we were opening a new flight at Osaka and that I was to be the operations officer. Well, I expressed myself to him. I might have been court-martialed for what I said: I think I’ll even admit I used a few scriptural terms out of context. He listened very patiently, and when it was all over with he said, “Well, that’s all right, Packer; you’re still going.” And so it was.
That afternoon, on a C-47, with all my gear and the others who’d been assigned, I sat bitterly grumbling over the fact that it would take months again, that it wouldn’t be just an assignment of a week or two. Then I challenged the Lord, saying, “Why is it?” I had never wanted anything so much as I wanted to be home. I’d prayed for it, I’d tried to earn it, I’d tried to deserve it, I’d tried to behave myself, and then, when it was within my grasp, the very thing I wanted most was denied me.
Somehow, I don’t remember how, I took hold of myself; but looking back now, I can say the Lord was answering my prayers then. There came from that experience, from things that happened in those few months, lessons essential to the preparation for the calling that is now mine. I couldn’t see that far ahead, but by those tests or trials that we receive, ofttimes the Lord will prepare for us what He has in mind.

I’m a leader in my Young Women class in my ward, so every first and fourth Sunday, I go out with the missionaries or the other youth to minister to less-active youth. I bear my testimony to them that drawing closer to Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ makes us stronger and helps us overcome our trials. Giving up on Them isn’t the solution.
One time, we ministered to a young man. We invited him to offer the closing prayer at the end of the visit. When he prayed, he thanked Heavenly Father for our visit. He was so happy and thankful that we took the time to check in on him.
I felt grateful too, and increased my feelings of self-worth. I realized that other people are happy in my presence, and I can help them. I can be an instrument in God’s hands to show others that they’re not alone.

Isaac Ernsten pulls on a pair of rubber gloves while one of the other young men in the quorum helps tie a hospital gown over his white shirt and tie. They all put on surgical masks and make sure they have both the sacrament trays before they walk into the hospital room. The man in the bed is one of many who has requested that the young men bring the sacrament to him.
Each Sunday, patients in the Salt Lake Regional Medical Center who can’t make it to church have church brought to them by the young men from the Salt Lake Emigration Stake. During the months of January and July, it’s the responsibility of the young men from the 21st North Ward.
“In church, some people take the sacrament just because it’s a part of the sacrament meeting,” says Isaac, a priest who helps bring the sacrament to hospital patients. “These people have to request that the sacrament be brought to them. I think it means a lot to them. Some of them are so happy to see us when we get there. I can tell that they really want the sacrament.”
Most of the young men will admit that sometimes it makes them a bit nervous to be around people who are seriously injured or dying, but they feel it is their duty, and they enjoy doing it. And even though the man in the hospital bed does not feel well, he is happy to see them come in.
The stained glass windows around the small chapel glow with the bright light from outside. The hospital branch uses a chapel that was built by the Catholic Church when the hospital was known as Holy Cross Hospital. More than half the congregation is made up of the young men from the 21st North Ward, and there are fewer than a dozen of them. Others in attendance include the branch presidency, Relief Society presidency, a few patients who feel well enough to leave their beds, and some hospital staff.
It takes one deacon only a few minutes to pass the sacrament to everyone. Then the young men put on the sacrament meeting program. They give the talks, offer the prayers, and fill in wherever else they are needed.
“In our home ward, preparing the sacrament can sometimes become routine,” says Abe Daris, a priest who has helped prepare, bless, or pass the sacrament at the hospital since he was a deacon. “Not that it should be routine, but here it is something more. It makes me realize how important the sacrament is. Even if there are only one or two members who show up, it’s still important enough for a whole quorum to help out a branch president and conduct a sacrament meeting. It’s important that members renew their covenants every week and feel the Spirit.”
After the meeting, the young men visit the individual rooms of people who have requested the sacrament. “That’s my favorite part,” Abe says. “It makes me realize how important the sacrament is to people. When we come with the sacrament, they just light up, and they’re so excited.”
All of the priesthood holders can remember specific people and experiences in the hospital that strengthened their testimonies. Abe remembers a woman who was very ill. “She had a lot of trouble breathing,” he said. “She couldn’t talk at all and could barely move. Even though we couldn’t communicate verbally, we could see in her eyes that she was happy to receive the sacrament. We smiled at her, and she smiled back. We could feel the Spirit and knew she appreciated it. It’s hard to explain. You had to be there.”
One of Abe’s brothers, Jeremiah, a teacher, remembers helping a woman who couldn’t move to take the sacrament. “I had to hold the sacrament water out and pour it into her mouth,” he says. “That was probably one of the more memorable experiences. I was helping someone who couldn’t do it for herself. She was really happy to get the sacrament. I’m sure she was glad I was there.”
Before they bless the sacrament and pass it to the patients, Simon Williams, one of the teachers, enjoys visiting. “There are all sorts of people there. Sometimes we visit new mothers, and sometimes we visit older people,” he says. “When you are in a hospital, I think you have a lot of time to think about life. People start thinking about what they’ve done in the past and start thinking more about Heavenly Father and the gospel. I think taking the sacrament for the people in the hospital can mean more for them than for many people because a lot of the people in the hospital are going to have some pretty big changes in their lives.”
Each week as the young men give service in the hospital, they receive something themselves. One thing they all agree on is that their assignment has given them a greater understanding of the importance of the sacrament. “A lot of times in my home ward I don’t really take the chance to think about what the sacrament means because I’m focused on passing it,” Simon says. “Sometimes we take the sacrament for granted. But it really stands for something amazing.”
The youth feel it is their duty to serve others. But no matter how much they give, they say they are the ones who are rewarded most. “We have such a good time doing it that it’s not really like it’s a sacrifice,” Abe says. “When you’ve been given so much, you have to serve and help other people. This has just been another way for us to give back, and not only to help other people, but to grow ourselves. Our duty to God is to serve Him by serving other people.”

1 One day Tanner got a picture of Jesus. He loved the picture. He wanted to share it with somebody. He knew that not everybody knows about Jesus.
2 “Mom, can I give my picture of Jesus to somebody?” Tanner asked.
“Sure,” Mom said. “Who will you give it to?”
“I’m going to give it to my teacher, Mrs. Young. I like her because she reads me lots of stories.”
“That’s a wonderful idea,” Mom said. “I’m proud of you.”
3 When Tanner got to preschool, he gave the picture to Mrs. Young. She was happy to get a picture of Jesus. Tanner was happy she liked it.
4 A few days later, Tanner and his family made a book that looked like the Book of Mormon golden plates. Then they wrote their testimonies in the book.
“Mom, can I take our book to school to show Mrs. Young?” Tanner asked.
“Yes, you can,” Mom said.
5 The next day at school, Tanner carried a backpack with his family’s golden plates inside. He told Mrs. Young about the book his family had made. Tanner’s teacher was very interested.
6 When Mom picked up Tanner from school that day, his teacher went to talk to Tanner’s mother.
“Tanner brought something very interesting today,” Mrs. Young said. “Can you tell me more?”
“How would you and your husband like to come to dinner at our house?” Mom asked. “We can talk more then.”
“That sounds great,” Mrs. Young said.
7 A few months later, Tanner and his mother went to Mr. and Mrs. Young’s baptism.
“I’m very happy I shared my picture of Jesus with my teacher,” Tanner said.
“I know that she is too,” Mom said. “You are a big reason why Mrs. Young and her husband are being baptized today.”
8 Tanner had a happy feeling as he watched Mrs. Young be baptized. He smiled as Mom leaned over and whispered, “Four-year-olds are great missionaries!”