Gospel Story Finder

LISA: When I walked in the door it was quite a different party than I had expected. They were drinking and smoking marijuana. Everybody in the whole place was using drugs. The right thing would have been to turn around and leave. That’s really a hard thing to do, but if I had, I probably would have avoided all the trouble that came later. I didn’t want to use any drugs. I didn’t even want to go to that party. But instead of turning around and going home, I went in. After being there 20 minutes I felt so awkward that I grabbed a beer and pretended to drink it.

As soon as I started pretending to use I was accepted by everybody and was asked out by several guys. I loved that. I wasn’t interested in the drugs and alcohol. It was the crowd, the acceptance.

LISA: I started smoking pot, and I tried LSD. A lot of the pot I smoked was laced with even worse things. I have no idea what I smoked.

Through my use, my family life completely deteriorated. I tried to avoid my family as much as possible. I wasn’t going to school. I’d make maybe two classes a day if I was lucky.

LISA: When drugs let me feel anything, I felt really guilty about what I had done. I felt worthless. I didn’t understand justice and mercy and repentance. I thought that I was bad forever. I didn’t know how to be forgiven. I just felt that I was lost.

I had heard the lessons about forgiveness, but I didn’t think it could apply to me. I thought, That’s okay for little Mary Jo over there who swore yesterday, but for me who’s been doing this and this it doesn’t work. I felt there was a certain amount of time I had to spend repenting, a certain amount of suffering I had to do, and I knew that my life wouldn’t be long enough to do it all. So why try?

On the other hand, when I got into a rehabilitation program and was taught what the Atonement means and what repentance is all about, my Father in Heaven became my greatest strength. He helped me make the painful changes that had to be made. I know that I have been forgiven, and I’ve learned how to forgive myself. Now when I look back it’s like watching a movie of someone else. The weight has been lifted, and I am a different person.

LISA: When I was using drugs I couldn’t pray. I felt that I was such an awful person that I would just be wasting my time. So I tried to push God out of my mind. I tried to tell myself that he didn’t exist. I tried to forget him because I didn’t want to feel the guilt.

I look back on what has kept me straight and why I’m sober today, and it’s because I learned how to talk to God. I didn’t know how to before. I was used to saying a kind of set prayer—“Bless us to get home in safety …” The same old stuff.

So I had to establish a relationship. Now I can come home and tell him, “Look what I did today. I was so rude.” I’m talking to him as I would talk to a friend. I really feel that he is my friend. I can just sit and talk about something that concerns me today. I sit in my bedroom with my eyes open and just talk to him. That really helped turn me around.

If I had had that relationship when I first started using, I might have gotten out in time.

LISA: Stay close to your family and maintain high self-esteem. Low self-esteem makes a person more vulnerable. In the ninth grade I had a 3.5 GPA. I modeled professionally. I was in ballet, but my self-esteem was low. I felt that whatever I did wasn’t good enough. I felt that a 3.5 GPA should be a 4.0, that I wasn’t skinny enough, that I wasn’t pretty enough. I never had the exact right clothes. I never did things exactly right. I guess I was quite self-critical.

Allie looked around Grandfather Snow’s office in the Salt Lake Temple. “It’s late! We’re the only ones here.”
“Sorry, my dear,” her grandpa said with a smile. “I’ve been telling you too many stories.”
“Please don’t apologize. I’ve always loved your stories.” Allie hugged her grandfather, Lorenzo Snow, the fifth President of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
“I’ll walk you to the front entrance and let you out,” he said. “The night watchmen haven’t arrived yet, and the doors are all locked.” They walked out of his office into the hall.
Allie had married Noah Pond in a nearby room in the temple just three years ago. Now Noah was away in Sweden serving a mission. Allie missed him. But she knew he was serving the Lord, just as she and her family had done in Hawaii.
“Wait a moment, Allie,” Grandpa said. “I want to tell you something. Do you remember when President Wilford Woodruff died?”
Allie remembered well. It had only been a year ago, and Grandpa Snow had been worried about the responsibility of being the next President of the Church. He had prayed that President Woodruff would not die. When President Woodruff passed away, Grandpa had come to the Salt Lake Temple as soon as he heard the news.
To succeed means to be the next in line to fill a position. Ever since the deaths of the Prophet Joseph Smith and Brigham Young, the Lord has chosen the man who has been an Apostle for the longest time to become the next President of the Church.
“It was right here that the Lord Jesus Christ appeared to me. He told me to go right ahead and reorganize the First Presidency at once and not wait as had been done after the death of the previous presidents, and that I was to succeed President Woodruff,” Grandpa said.
Grandpa held out his hand. “He stood right here, about three feet above the floor. It looked as though He stood on a plate of solid gold.”
Allie stood very still as she felt the Spirit confirm the truth of these words. The Savior had appeared in this very spot in the temple and told her grandpa about his calling as President of the Church! Grandpa continued to describe the Savior’s hands, feet, face, and beautiful white robes. He said they were so white and bright that he could hardly look at the Savior.
Then Grandpa put his hand on her head. “Now, Granddaughter, I want you to remember that this is the testimony of your grandfather, that he told you with his own lips that he actually saw the Savior, here in the temple, and talked with Him face to face.”
Allie hugged Grandpa at the door and quietly made her way home. Her heart felt warm, and she knew that Jesus Christ really had appeared to Grandpa. The Savior lived, and He was the head of His Church. This was truly a night to remember.

The silo holds almost four tons of wheat. The grain was put there more than 30 years ago by two loving people who hoped to provide food for their children’s families in case they faced scarcity or famine someday.
The wheat is probably no longer usable for food, but what those two people left behind may be much more valuable than food.
John and Ruth were farm people. They knew years when the crops didn’t grow well or didn’t sell for much money. They had lived through the Depression of the 1930s. They never spent money they did not have or waste anything that might be put to good use sometime. In their old barn sit buckets of rusty nails and bolts that John meant to straighten out, clean up, and reuse one day.
John and Ruth were my parents-in-law. I learned to admire them for what they had become in life and what they were willing to sacrifice to ensure a decent life for others—especially their children. Inside that silo full of grain, taped to the inner door, John and Ruth left a note specifying what they wanted done with the wheat.
“It is here to be preserved for a time of need,” John wrote. “We do not expect to live to see the day when all of this will be used for human food, but say to our family that you may take from it as needed for your own use. We want you to respect our wish that none of it is to be sold for monetary gain but may be traded for other food items if needed. … We are dedicating this wheat to help sustain the lives of those who may need it.”
They accumulated that grain from their crops over 10 years, the last bags being added in 1987. The company that bagged the wheat told them it would last “for a lifetime.” But no one anticipated that the galvanized-steel granary could rust out near the bottom. Rodents and deer, getting at a few of the bags through small holes at the base of the silo, have nibbled at the wheat. A nutritional expert tells us the grain is probably not good for human food anymore but may be used to feed animals.

Earlier this year my reading and writing buddy came to class feeling blue. She had made some mistakes on her math work. She said, “I’m useless.”
I was worried about my friend, so I told her all about Jesus and how He loves us. I told her how that means we are not useless! Then I sang “I Am a Child of God” to her. She loved it and asked me where I learned these things. I explained that my family goes to church every week and that I learn a lot about Jesus in Primary.
That night she told her mom about our conversation. She asked her mom if they could come to church with my family. Her mom said yes!
My friend sat next to me in sacrament meeting that very Sunday! Now she joins me at church almost every week. She and her parents are learning more and more about the gospel of Jesus Christ from the missionaries and other families in our ward.
I feel very happy that I was able to follow the Savior’s example and comfort a sad friend. Whether or not her family decides to get baptized, the best part is that now she knows that God and Jesus love her, no matter what!

To me, education is like a key that opens doors to opportunity. And education through BYU–Pathway Worldwide’s PathwayConnect program in Ghana has given me the opportunity to improve my knowledge. Knowledge is power to improve the lives of my own family members and those around me.
After graduating from a BYU–Idaho online degree program, I interned with a financial company in Ghana and started working for them full-time. I liked what I was doing, and they liked my services. But after a while, the company went under, and I was out of a job.
That was discouraging, but I continued applying what I had learned from school and from my mission. I decided to take the skills I learned at my previous job and start my own business providing financial services.
My journey after graduation has been filled with ups and downs, but I don’t regret making education a priority. Without it, I wouldn’t be able to manage my own business right now.

I was biking with my dad when I got sick. I felt awful. It was too far to ride home, so we sat down on the sidewalk and I asked Dad to say a prayer for me. Then we walked down the street and found a lady who gave me a chair in the shade and a glass of water. She let us call my mom on her phone, and Mom came and picked me up. Once I got home I rested for a while and felt fine. I am thankful that Heavenly Father answered our prayer and helped us.

I used to not like going to church because I felt I had no friends there. At school, I had friends I could laugh with. But I felt that the young women at church were different from me or might not like my personality. I started pretending to be asleep so I wouldn’t have to attend church.
Then the COVID-19 pandemic came, and we went through a time of losing things. I live with my mom and grandma. My mom lost her job, and we thought we would have to give up our home. I started looking for a cheaper place to live, but I didn’t find any. Instead, I found the Savior.
The Church started broadcasting church services online, and my mother would make me wake up and watch, which helped me to “fake it till I made it.” I felt like the Savior was reaching out to me, even if I wasn’t reaching out to Him. And when I started to reach out to Him, He made His hand more reachable. Losing things helped me find the Savior.
I felt like the Savior was reaching out to me, even if I wasn’t reaching out to Him.
Our bishop gave me a calling, and the other young women became my friends because I opened myself to them. Since I’d felt like I didn’t have friends, I realized others might experience this too. It made me think I should make the first move and reach out.
In the end, the Lord helped my mother find a new job. Thankfully, we still live in our home, and the Savior made it a holier place. I still laugh with my friends at school too. But nothing beats the joy the Savior offers.

When I was nine years old, I was the only Mormon student in a very large private Catholic school in Ibadan, Nigeria. It was announced one day that the archbishop of the Ibadan Diocese would be coming to our school, and everyone was very excited. He is a very important person, and he makes such a visit only every four years. Great preparations were made—the school was repainted and decorated with flowers and balloons, the lawn was cut, and we were all reminded that we should look our very best on this special day. On the day of the visit, I woke up two hours earlier than usual just so I could get ready. I was very excited to wear my new school uniform, and I was eager to show it to my brothers and sisters before I left for school.
At eight o’clock, all the teachers and students were waiting when the honored guest arrived. After he greeted us and made a few remarks, he asked, “Who was Saint Martha?” The hall was quiet. After several moments of uncomfortable silence, he asked the question two more times. It was easy to see that the archbishop was disappointed because no one answered his question.
I felt very nervous. I was confused when he asked about Saint Martha, but I felt sure I knew the right answer. I had learned about Martha in Primary, but I was afraid to raise my hand—partly because I belonged to a different church and partly because I was so shy. I had not even talked much to my classmates, and answering this question would mean standing in front of a crowd of more than 1,000 people!
But I remembered how I always stood up in church to bear my testimony, and the Spirit gave me the courage I needed. The next thing I knew, my hand was in the air and I was being called on to answer. I then found myself standing beside the archbishop in front of the largest crowd of people I had ever seen. All eyes seemed to be glued to me. Everyone was waiting for my answer. My legs were shaking as I stated that Martha was the sister of Mary and Lazarus. There was another silence after I answered. Then the archbishop’s expression changed, and he asked me to explain further. I remembered the story from Primary, and I told about Jesus Christ’s visit to Mary and Martha and about how he raised Lazarus from the dead (see Luke 10:38–42 and John 11:20–45).
The archbishop seemed very impressed with my answer and asked for a round of applause for me. He then shook my hand, hugged me, and asked which Catholic church I attended. I explained that I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and that I learned these things in my church Primary class. He smiled and said, “Gbenga, you have made me very happy today. I am very proud of you, your church, and whoever taught you. Without you, nobody would have answered that question, and I would have been greatly disappointed.” He then rewarded me with a scholarship for my last year at the school. This made me feel very thankful for the Church, my Primary teacher, my family, and the Spirit of God, which directed me.
Since that day, I have been referred to as “scholarship boy.” Every time I hear that phrase, it brings back good memories and reminds me that I should always listen to the promptings of the Spirit.

Elisa walked into Primary and sat by her friend Armando.
“Welcome!” Sister Russo said. “Let’s start with a song.”
Elisa sang with her class. “Faith is like a little seed: if planted, it will grow” (Children’s Songbook, 96).
Sister Russo passed out paper and crayons. “Think about what we sang,” she said. “When you plant your seed of faith, it grows into a testimony. Now draw what your testimony would look like if it were a plant.”
Elisa stared at her blank paper. She didn’t know what to draw. She peeked at the plant Armando was drawing. It had a straight stem with lots of leaves. It looked like the basil growing on her apartment balcony. Maybe that was what a testimony was supposed to look like! She used her crayon to draw one like his.
“Please open your scriptures to Alma 32,” Sister Russo said.
They read about planting a seed in your heart and feeling it grow. Elisa looked at her drawing and frowned. Did she have a testimony? What did that even mean? She wanted to ask, but she felt too shy.
When class ended, Elisa didn’t get up right away.
“Is everything OK?” Sister Russo asked.
Elisa glanced down at her drawing again. “I’m not sure I have a testimony. I don’t really know what that means.”
Sister Russo gave Elisa a kind smile. “That’s OK. Do you remember what faith is?”
Elisa nodded. “Believing in something we can’t see?”
“That’s right!” Sister Russo said. “What are some things you believe in?”
That was an easy question. “I believe in Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. I believe They love me.”
Sister Russo smiled. “You just shared your testimony! A testimony is what you have faith in.”
Elisa thought about it. “So I already have a testimony?”
“Yes!” Sister Russo held up her scriptures. “And remember what we read today? You nourish the seed by doing things like coming to church. Then your testimony will grow stronger.”
Elisa felt like she understood. “So that’s why we drew our testimonies as plants?”
“Exactly. Because plants grow little by little,” Sister Russo said. “Testimonies are the same way. They usually don’t come all at once. They grow a little at a time.”
Elisa felt better about her drawing. When she got home, she wrote “My Testimony Plant” above her picture. She hung it up by her bed. She knew her testimony was already growing. And she wanted to keep following Jesus so it could grow even bigger!

I remember when I was serving as a branch president and was working on our annual tithing report. It was a beautiful winter day, and my wife was waiting to go for a walk with me. I was used to doing finances as a government officer, so this was no big task for me. But every time I tried to balance the figures, they did not add up right. I kept trying and trying, but nothing worked, and I was getting frustrated. I asked Heavenly Father to help.
After I got up from my knees, I couldn’t see that anything had changed. But I felt prompted to review a specific portion of the donation receipt file again. In those days the receipts were glued together in pads, and this time I discovered that two receipts had stuck together and looked like one receipt. The problem was solved.

“My dad stressed the importance of honesty to all his children. He was one of the most honest and fair men I have ever known. When I was a young boy, a neighbor widow’s chickens used to come over to the back of our lot and lay eggs in the high grass and bushes. Even though I used to take eggs to the store to trade (we didn’t have much money in those days), I never took any of those eggs to the store, because they weren’t mine. I took them to the widow, their rightful owner.

The little log cabin in Winter Quarters was not quite finished, but Orson Spencer and his six children moved into it anyway. They were anxious to get settled before Father left for England where he had been called by President Brigham Young to publish a newspaper for the Church.
Father had told Ellen, who had just turned 14, and Aurelia, who was 12, that they were to be “little mothers” to the four younger children. The baby, Lucy, was only three years old. Their mother had died soon after the family left Nauvoo, so their father ferried them across the Missouri River and then hurried to build the cabin before he left.
He bought eight cows so there would be plenty of milk to drink and enough to sell. They also owned a horse that was to be sold to buy food.
Two of the girls were just recovering from an illness when late in the fall their father said good-bye to them. Friends in neighboring cabins had agreed to help the children if they were needed.
The winter was long, cold, and lonely. Many people in the little community died. Among them were several friends of the Spencer children.
Aurelia wrote in her diary, “We got through the first part of the winter pretty well but it was uncommon in its severity. Our horse and all our cows but one died. Therefore, we had no milk or butter. Our provisions had also nearly given out so that in the spring and summer following we really suffered for something to eat. Part of the time we had nothing but cornmeal, which was stirred up with water and baked on a griddle. Many a night I went to bed without supper, having to wait until I was hungry enough to eat our poor fare.”
Then one day late in the fall of 1847, President Brigham Young went to visit the Spencer’s one-room log cabin. He found it neat and the children clean. Their father had been gone about a year when the Saints began making preparations to start their move to the mountains in the west the following spring.
The children told President Young that their father wrote often to them, making suggestions as to what they should wear, how to comb their hair, what to do if they became ill, and how to take care of each other. They brought out the last letter they had received. After President Young read it, he told them he had a very important matter for them to think about. He asked, “What would you say if your father stayed in England at least another year? We need him there.”
The children looked at each other and then waited for Ellen to speak since she was the oldest. “If it is thought best,” Ellen said quietly, “we would like it so, for we want to do for the best.”
All the other children agreed. They remembered that Father had once written, “Though He slay us, we should trust in Him, and all will be right.”
They had faith in their father, in his counsel, and in their Father in heaven. And so in the spring of 1848, the Spencer children, with determination and grateful hearts, began their preparations to move west with the Saints.

One of the talks that has had an everlasting impression on me is one given in a Saturday evening session of a stake conference years ago. The talk was given by a young mother. Here’s what she said: “I have been doing the genealogy of my great-grandfather. He and his large family of sons and daughters were members of the Church.
“My great-grandfather,” she said, “left church one Sunday with his family, and they never returned—no indication why.”
She then said, “In my research, I have found that my great-grandfather has over 1,000 descendants.”
And then she said, and this is the part I have not been able to forget, “Of those 1,000 descendants, I am the only one active in the Church today.”
As she said these words, I found myself thinking, “Is it only 1,000, or could it be more?”
The answer is apparent. The spiritual influence that family might have had on their neighbors and friends did not happen. None of his sons nor any of his daughters served as missionaries, and those they would have touched with their testimonies were not baptized, and those who were not baptized did not go on missions. Yes, there are probably many thousands who are not in the Church today, and not in this very meeting, because of that great-grandfather’s decision.
As I heard her talk, I found myself thinking, “What a tragedy! Perhaps if I had been there at that time, I could have said something to the father, to the family, to the priesthood leaders that might have helped to prevent such a calamity to their family and to so many in the future generations that would follow.”
Well, that opportunity of the past is lost. But we can now look to the present and to the future. I would say to those who find themselves in the same position as that great-grandfather: Would you consider what you might be doing to your family and to all those who come after you? Would you ponder the effects of your thoughts and your actions?
If there are any concerns about Church doctrine, consider the counsel given by President Gordon B. Hinckley to a large meeting of over 2,000 members in Paris, France, last year. He said: “I plead with you, my brothers and sisters, that if you have any doubt concerning any doctrine of this Church, that you put it to the test. Try it. Live the principle. Get on your knees and pray about it, and God will bless you with a knowledge of the truth of this work.”
If you feel you have been wronged, be ready to forgive. If there is, for some reason, an unpleasant memory, let it go. Where necessary, talk to your bishop; talk to your stake president.
To all, but especially to those who someday will be great-grandfathers and great-grandmothers, your eternal blessings and those of your posterity are far more important than any prideful reason which would deny you and so many others of such important blessings. In the Book of Mormon, King Benjamin reminds us: “And moreover, I would desire that ye should consider on the blessed and happy state of those that keep the commandments of God. For behold, they are blessed in all things, both temporal and spiritual; and if they hold out faithful to the end they are received into heaven, that thereby they may dwell with God in a state of never-ending happiness” (Mosiah 2:41).
To you who are children in the homes of future errant great-grandfathers, you can continue to stand faithful; you can be a good example in the home and to those around you. You can do your part to bring peace and harmony in the home and with your associates. You can be the solution, and not the cause, of problems. Remember in the Book of Mormon when Father Lehi began to murmur, it was his righteous son Nephi who gave encouragement and found solutions to problems. So many times it is the righteous children who are able to steady the boat while sailing in turbulent waters.
To you who are bishops and stake presidents, how I wish you could have been part of the meeting I attended with a handful of regional representatives. We heard Elder L. Tom Perry as he compared those who are prospective elders and those who are not active—the future great-grandfathers—to a thermometer. We were reminded that there are many of those individuals who are more than just warm. They would come back if someone would just encourage and show the way.
I would like to tell you of a stake conference I was assigned to attend. It was a reorganization; the stake president and his counselors would be released, and a new presidency would be called. The stake president was young and had served wonderfully for almost 10 years. He was a spiritual giant, but he was also an administrative giant. In my personal interview with him, he told me how he had delegated much of the responsibility for the stake functions to his counselors and to the high council and had thus freed himself to interview those who needed encouragement. Individuals and couples were invited to come to his office. There he got to know them, counseled with them, and invited them to do better, to put their lives in order, and to receive the blessings available to those who follow the Lord. He helped them by putting them in the care of a capable leader, a teacher who helped them to understand the beauties of the doctrine. Then he told me that in these interviews he would often ask if they would like a blessing. “I have placed my hands on the heads of many members of the stake,” he said.
The next day in the general session of the stake conference, I doubt I have ever seen so many tears—not because they felt the president should not be released, but for the deep love of a young stake president who had blessed their lives. I felt prompted to ask, “How many of you have had the hands of the president on your heads?” I was amazed at the number of people who raised their hands. I thought to myself at the time, “How many of these people will bless the name of this great man, not only now but throughout the eternities?” Yes, these will be the great-grandfathers who will, because of this loving leader, leave a legacy of generations of thousands who will call him blessed.
When we see the effect one person can have on the lives of so many, it perhaps is no wonder that the Lord reminded us, “Remember the worth of souls is great in the sight of God” (D&C 18:10).
I pray we all might consider what we can do individually to assist those who will be the future great-grandparents, whether a little child, a teenager, or an adult, so that each will leave a righteous legacy of those who know and love the Lord. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

I have a sweet memory of a prayer that I treasure. For one of my summer breaks from college, I accepted a job in Texas. I had to drive hundreds of miles from Idaho to Texas in my old car, a car I had affectionately named Vern. Vern was packed to the roof, and I was ready for the new adventure.
On my way out the door, I gave my dear mother a hug and she said, “Let’s say a prayer before you leave.”
We knelt and my mother began to pray. She pleaded with Heavenly Father for my safety. She prayed for my non-air-conditioned car, asking that the car would function as I needed. She asked for angels to be with me throughout the summer. She prayed and prayed and prayed.
The peace that came from that prayer gave me the courage to trust in the Lord and lean not to my own understanding. The Lord directed my path in the many decisions I made that summer.

One time, early in the morning after Mama and I had spent the night with him and Grandma, Grandpa and I went to buy a morning newspaper because the funnies are the best thing to read before breakfast. On the way, he found a big broken branch that made a good walking stick. He pretended to hobble with it, then did a silly hop, skip, and jump. We had more fun than anything!
When we got home, Grandma took one look at Grandpa’s stick and said, “You get that dirty old thing out of the house!” Grandpa just laughed. He lifted her off the floor and swung her around.
“Put me down!” she screeched, but she was laughing too.
Grandpa kissed her before we went into the living room to read the funnies to each other.
That’s the way it used to be.

Later on I realized how hard it frequently is for some people to give up something they really love and enjoy. I have always loved sports and particularly enjoyed playing handball with my brother David. One day I came off a handball court perspiring heavily and with my face flushed. A nonmember friend of mine, Dr. Plummer, was standing near my locker. He looked at me and said, “Brother Joseph, if you don’t stop that, one of these days you will drop dead on the floor, just as So-and-so did.”
It was hard for me. Every day I wanted to play some handball. Whenever I would look out my office window, I’d see the Deseret Gym next door and want to go and play. But I kept my resolve. I visited Dr. Plummer a short time later, and he said, “Brother Joseph, are you still playing handball?”
I said, “Doctor, when you told me to quit, I quit, and I have never been back on the court.” That seemed to please him very much, but my teammates were very upset. They came to me and said, “We need you. You are breaking up our foursome.”
“I am sorry,” I said, “but I am through.” I enjoyed that game more than I can say. I almost hungered to play, but I had learned that it was not good for me at my age. At that time I gained a little more perspective on how difficult it is for converts to give up some activity or habit they may have enjoyed for many years prior to baptism.
I’ve learned from my own experience that when you want to change, really want to change, you can do it. Our conscience and the scriptures tell us what to live by—and they tell us what habits we should change for our eternal welfare and progress.

September 2
Dearest Sarah,
We sold some tomatoes this week, and I got $13.00. They’re easier to pick than beans, and I like the way the vines smell. I also like to stop every now and then and eat one—all juicy and warm from the sun. I wish I could send you one in the mail.
I hope that you’ll understand this part. I was in a store last week, looking for notebooks and pencils for school, when I saw this little sweatshirt just Lindsay’s size with a penguin on it. She needs school clothes. I knew it would remind her of you; she still adores the penguin you sent her. It was $9.99, and so I bought it for her. Lindsay was thrilled. She put it on and wouldn’t take it off, even for bed. But after tithing and the notebooks … well, I hope you understand.
School starts Monday.
Love,Angela the Spendthrift
P.S. I promised the Claybourne kids some pumpkins for Halloween and a watermelon.

One day in early winter, the boys planned to go hunting with their father. Charlie was so excited that he could hardly eat the spice cake Mrs. Thorpe had made for supper. “Do you feel all right?” she asked, feeling his forehead. “Why, Hiram, he has a fever!”
Charlie had to stay home. Jimmy could see that he was shivering under his pile of blankets. “I wish you could go,” he said awkwardly. His heart was heavy, for the twins had never been separated.
“Me, too,” Charlie whispered.
In two days Mr. Thorpe brought down three deer and a small bear. The third day he loaded the gun and handed it to Jimmy. “It’s your turn, son.”
Only once had Jimmy shot the big gun at a target. Although the recoil had knocked him over, he hadn’t missed! Now they were hiding in the brush near a little stream. When a big stag came to drink, Jimmy quietly sighted along the barrel. For Charlie, he thought as he squeezed the trigger. Boooom! Jimmy reeled backward, but the deer lay on the ground.
“Good work!” his father praised him. They loaded the horses, and Mr. Thorpe shouldered two deer himself for the long hike home.
“You must be as strong as Black Hawk!”
“Your eye is keen, your thinking straight, and your speed great,” his father returned the compliment. “Already you follow the path of Black Hawk.”
Jimmy thought about his Indian name, Wa-Tho-Huck (Bright Path). He hoped that whatever his “bright path” might be, it would be honorable, like Black Hawk’s.
Mrs. Thorpe met them at the door, but in spite of the great good luck of so much meat, tears streaked her face. “It’s Charlie,” she mourned. “He had pneumonia. He’s gone.”
Blindly Jimmy turned away. How could it be time for Charlie to go to the spirit world? If only he had let Charlie beat him just one time! He felt father’s strong arms around him.

Listen to a wonderful story by the mother of the Prophet Joseph Smith about the night he went to get the gold plates. She writes: “[That night] I sat up very late. … About twelve o’clock Joseph came to me and asked me if I had a chest with a lock and key. … And not having one I was greatly alarmed. … But Joseph … said, ‘Never mind, I can do very well … without it—be calm—all is right.’”

Shortly after, Joseph and Emma left, taking a horse and wagon. Now listen to what his mother says: “I spent the night in prayer and supplication to God, for the anxiety of my mind would not permit me to sleep.” The pleadings of a mother, a righteous daughter of God, comforted the Prophet and protected the gold plates. Over the years, her constant prayers helped strengthen her home and family (see Lucy Mack Smith, History of Joseph Smith, ed. Preston Nibley [1979], 102).

I got baptized when I was a teenager, and I loved the gospel of Jesus Christ. However, over time, I felt less motivated to live the gospel because none of my family were members and it was hard to keep up with my spiritual habits all on my own.
I always knew that the Church is true, but I didn’t want to give my full heart to it, because it was such a commitment. My church attendance became inconsistent. Then I started prioritizing my social life rather than living the gospel, and eventually I stopped living the commandments. I justified my actions by saying that it was fine to do whatever I wanted, as long as I tried to be a good person.
But that decision cost me a lot.
After living outside the Church for a long time, I tested positive for human immunodeficiency virus (HIV). This condition is chronic, progressive, and has no cure. I was devastated.
I asked the same questions I’m sure a lot of us ask when faced with crippling diagnoses or other chronic challenges: How was I supposed to ever enjoy life again? How could I have hope for anything?
The answer?
Jesus Christ.
In that moment of darkness, when I received my diagnosis and pleaded for relief, I felt like Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ were fully aware of how I was feeling. The Spirit offered me clarity that helped me reflect on my decisions.
I realized that I needed to invite the Savior into my life again if I was going to find lasting peace. So, I made an appointment with my bishop and stake president to begin the repentance process.
As I worked with these wonderful leaders, I felt their love and support, and the enabling power of Jesus Christ entered my life again. My leaders helped me make goals. I began progressing on the covenant path. I put my whole heart in the gospel for the first time in my life, and I could see the difference in myself when I put my relationship with Heavenly Father and the Savior first.
This truth of joy has manifested in my life as I have continued focusing on Him and, once again, holding fast to the iron rod—the word of God—each day (see 1 Nephi 15:23–24).
As I continued to find solace and cope with my illness, my bishop directed me to the Church’s self-reliance course “Finding Strength in the Lord: Emotional Resilience.”
I believe that this course is God given, inspired, and miraculous. I learned how to transform this illness, which was making life look bleak, into a learning experience. This course taught me how to develop deep faith in the Savior, learn healthy thinking patterns, manage stress and anxiety, and ultimately move forward in my life with hope.
Even with materials like this, some days are hard and tiring. The anxiety and the sadness that sometimes accompany those moments are crippling. But following the counsel of the prophet has helped me find my path in these hard times.
So, following President Nelson’s counsel, this is what I do to help my mental health—I focus on the good. I do my best to take care of my mental health through both spiritual and temporal resources. I look at the big picture—the eternal perspective. I remember and keep my covenants.
Most of all, I look to my Savior, Jesus Christ, for hope and strength.
I thank Heavenly Father every day for helping me become more resilient in my chronic health struggles. I never thought I would give thanks for a challenge like this, but I am grateful that this struggle helped me realize how much I need my Savior in my life. I feel my heart becoming more aligned with His every day.