Gospel Story Finder

Sister Andrea Julião, from São Paulo, Brazil, discovered that just as relationships with earthly friends grow stronger when we spend time together, our relationship with Heavenly Father becomes stronger when we focus on Him through Sabbath worship.

While visiting family who weren’t members of the Church, Sister Julião decided to wake up early Sunday and try to find a Latter-day Saint church building in the area. As her family prepared for a day of adventurous recreation, Sister Julião searched the neighborhood until she met someone who pointed out a steeple in the distance. Sister Julião was able to attend worship services. “I had the most amazing Sabbath day,” she said. “I felt Heavenly Father’s love so strongly. I felt that He enjoys when His children obey His teachings. I gained a stronger testimony of the Church of Jesus Christ.”

But a mystery remained to be solved.
Some years after my conversion, when I visited father, I asked, “Dad, why did you never mention the gospel to your children?”
He took a deep breath, looked out the window for a moment, and then he said, “I never mentioned the gospel or the Church to any of you because I did not feel worthy to do it. But I never ceased to pray that one day all of you would hear it preached by an authoritative voice and be converted. I have yearned for that blessing, in spite of my sins.
“Actually, there was a time when my father’s family was very strong in the Church. My parents were converted in the early years of this century and raised us children in accordance with the gospel. My mother was local Relief Society president. But when they emigrated to California in 1926, I stayed behind to marry your mother. Her parents were bitterly opposed to the Church, and under the stresses and strains of that period, I soon became inactive and lost contact. Although I never doubted the Church, I began to do things far removed from its teachings. My conscience would haunt me concerning you children; but once a break in communication is made, it is very hard to reestablish them. I am grateful that you children have joined the Church. I imagine the elders were surprised as well. They came looking for me, an inactive member, and found my children who were interested and wanted to know more about the gospel.”

Example four: I have a friend named Jay Hassell who was in my Sunday School class years ago. We have kept in touch over the years. Along with the rest of the class, we hiked to the peak of Mt. Timpanogos. We went swimming down at Rockport. I attended football and basketball games he played in. I was with him when he did some amazing things in track. He was a competitor to the core. He was a high school student body president. He served a great mission in France, returned home, went to medical school, and now is an orthopedic surgeon.
A few years ago I was invited as a member of the Young Men General Presidency to attend a regional youth conference in the eastern United States. When I got off the plane, Jay and his wife were there to meet me. We were both filled with emotion. I wept. He wept. His father had passed away some time before, and I gave this sweet young friend a fatherly hug. We spent two days together. Now the years have passed, and Jay has been a great blessing in the life of my son Lawrence. Although we do not spend much time together, I love him dearly and am grateful for his interest and love. Jay has served as a bishop and is now serving in a mission presidency. Jay Hassell, I want you to know you have been a great influence in my life.

You can’t be timid for long as a missionary. Street meetings were a very popular form of our missionary work. We’d set up a stand in the marketplace or town square, sing a few hymns, then bear our testimonies and answer questions.
The second day I was in England, I attended my first street meeting at Hyde Park in London. Six missionaries and our mission president, Selvoy J. Boyer, were there. President Boyer called on two missionaries to speak, and I was one of them.
On my way up to the stand, he said to me, “Elder Ballard, you preach the gospel.” I quickly picked the principle of baptism and said everything I knew about it in about thirty seconds. That was a good experience because it made me realize very quickly how much I did not know. I realized that I had a lot of studying to do.

There comes a time in all of our lives when we question the existence of our testimony. For me it came when I discovered that though within my mind I knew the Church to be true, within my heart there had been no such witness, or so I supposed.
I wanted my own special witness. I prayed and fasted, fasted and prayed. Finally one day, as I sat in sacrament meeting, my heart began to tremble and tears filled my eyes. This is something that often happens to me in testimony and sacrament meetings. I realized then that this was my witness that the gospel is true. I knew that I had always known the Church to be true.
Do not be ashamed to admit you do not know the Church is true. We all must be converted to the gospel spiritually, no matter how many generations our families have been in the Church.
Tony S. RollsWestmead, Australia

In 2018, at the age of 42, Thierry commenced service as president of the Maryland Baltimore Mission. His diligence in learning English while serving as a full-time missionary was now a necessity in his new responsibility. Thierry and Nathalie experienced miracles as mission leaders. On one occasion, in a tender and timely mercy, Thierry had a vivid dream. In the dream, he saw the footsteps of Jesus. He approached the footsteps and placed his foot inside one. It fit perfectly. He realized, that as a servant of God, he was following in the footsteps of Jesus.

When Meghan and I first started down this path of differing beliefs, I thought this challenge would be something I would just have to tolerate. I remember one evening after a particularly tumultuous argument, I was lying in bed with tears in my eyes.
Meghan didn’t want to speak to me, and I felt devastated for both of us.
But as I prayed for help and turned to the Savior, I thought about how much I loved her. I felt a rush of love and gratitude and said, “Meghan, I want to be married to you. I love you and I choose you, but if you want to leave, I understand. I would be heartbroken, but I would understand.”
In that moment, I felt the love of God for Meghan, for me, for my family, and for all of God’s children. We all have different journeys in life, and we can learn to work together even when we believe differently.

I wish you could meet the marvelous young man who came to us from Bolivia, arriving with no matching clothing and shoes three sizes too large for him. He was a little older because he was the sole breadwinner in his home, and it had taken some time to earn money for his mission. He raised chickens and sold the eggs door-to-door. Then, just as his call finally came, his widowed mother faced an emergency appendectomy. Our young friend gave every cent of the money he had earned for his mission to pay for his mother’s surgery and postoperative care, then quietly rounded up what used clothing he could from friends and arrived at the MTC in Santiago on schedule. I can assure you that his clothes now match, his shoes now fit, and both he and his mother are safe and sound, temporally as well as spiritually.

When I became a priest in the Windsor Ward, London Ontario Canada Stake, our Young Men president, Brother Sandor, encouraged us to bless and pass the sacrament and perform baptisms as a way to exercise our priesthood. In one Sunday lesson, he also taught us about giving blessings during Aaronic Priesthood ordinations. He said, “You must be bold enough to say what the Spirit prompts you to say but be humble enough not to make up your own words!”
Not long after that lesson, a young convert in our ward was sustained as a teacher in the Aaronic Priesthood, and Brother Sandor asked me to be the “voice” in the ordination. I was scared. I had never laid my hands on anybody’s head before, and I felt inadequate. But then the Spirit reassured me that it would be fine for me to do it, and I was reminded of what my Young Men president had taught us.
The young man to be ordained sat down in the chair, and I stood directly behind him. When we were all ready, Brother Sandor guided me through the ordinance prayer, and I repeated every word he said. After we had finished the ordination by saying, “… and we wish to pronounce a blessing on your head at this time,” Brother Sandor looked at me and indicated that I was on my own.
At that point, the priesthood entirely changed its meaning for me. It was no longer just a title, but the actual authority to act in God’s name—and I was giving that authority to someone else. I paused and waited for the Spirit to whisper to me what I was to say. It is difficult for me to describe the feelings I had during the blessing, but I can say that I now have a stronger testimony that the power of the priesthood is real.

I am grateful to the Lord that my temple memories extend back even to young boyhood. I remember so well, as a little boy, coming in from the field and approaching the old farm house in Whitney, Idaho. I could hear my mother singing “Have I done any good in the world today?” (Hymns, 1985, no. 223).
In my mind’s eye, I can still see her bending over the ironing board with newspapers on the floor, ironing long strips of white cloth, with beads or perspiration on her forehead. When I asked her what she was doing, she said, “These are temple robes, my son.”
Then she put the old flatiron on the stove, drew a chair close to mine, and told me about temple work—how important it is to be able to go to the temple and participate in the sacred ordinances performed there. She also expressed her fervent hope that someday her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren would have the opportunity to enjoy these priceless blessings.

I joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in 1992 in the Netherlands. However, my husband didn’t join and wouldn’t allow our children, Alex and Petra, to be baptized (names have been changed). Even still, the three of us attended church and had regular family home evenings.
All went well for several years until Alex, then 13, announced that he was no longer willing to go to church or attend family home evening. As he got older, things continually got worse. It was difficult for me to stay close to Alex because he not only began drinking and smoking, but he also lied about his behavior. It broke my heart, and I shed many tears and offered many prayers as I pleaded with Heavenly Father to help my son.
Then one night while sitting quietly in the temple, I saw a picture in my mind. It was of a young man passing the sacrament. It seemed that the Lord was reminding me of the reality and power of His Atonement, encouraging me to love my son and to stay by his side.
However, as time progressed, life actually got rougher. After Alex’s father and I divorced, Alex got really depressed. I knew he needed help, but he didn’t want my help and wouldn’t listen if I tried to talk to him.
One night our branch president asked if he could come talk to Alex. Alex was irritated but did agree to have a conversation. After the meeting, Alex was angry with the branch president for encouraging him to serve a mission, saying, “If the branch president really was a man of God, he would know better. He would know that I’m not worthy to go—so why bother me?” That night I knew the Lord had a plan.
The plan began to take shape in an unexpected way when I received a phone call from the local police station. Alex had been arrested. My new husband and I put on our coats and in the middle of the night picked Alex up from the police station. We didn’t make a scene; actually Alex’s stepfather and I said very little.
When we got home, Alex told us what had happened when he and his friend had stolen a scooter. He was so sorry for what he had done. I saw for the first time a broken young man.
The arrest was a turning point for Alex as he began to realize the consequences of his actions and where he was headed. From that day on, so many blessings started to come our way.
The next day Alex told us that he had asked the officer to call us because he knew that we loved him. He also realized how much he had hurt us, and he appreciated that we had stayed calm.
Alex had several member friends who reached out to help him. One invited him to Church activities. Another gave him a Book of Mormon and challenged him to read it. And despite his suffering from dyslexia, I would find Alex reading it now and again.
The next blessing—if I could actually count them—was when Alex asked if we would buy him a suit since he had decided he wanted to go to church. I thought he meant just for Christmas. But to my great surprise, he continued attending even after the holidays.
The next blessing seemed almost too much for me to comprehend. Alex announced that he was going to be baptized. He didn’t need any help from me and arranged everything himself with assistance from his friends and the missionaries who were teaching him. I almost couldn’t believe my eyes when the day came, and I was able to see my son in white, making sacred covenants.
Later as he related the story of his conversion, I realized that Alex’s pain and sorrow had been difficult, but they also helped him become humble enough to bend his knees and ask for help. Alex explained: “One night when my burdens were too heavy to carry, I remembered the words of a good friend who had reminded me that I could always pray for help. That night I decided to give it a try. There was not another door open to me, and since my mom had taught me how to pray, I kneeled down and closed my eyes. As I started to plead for help, the most wonderful feeling came over me. I’ll never forget that feeling; I felt the pure love of Christ. I felt that my problems were taken away from me. My desperate feelings haven’t come back since, and I have been blessed with a testimony of Jesus Christ. My heart was changed, and I desired to follow Jesus Christ.”
After his baptism, confirmation, and ordination to the priesthood, Alex was asked to pass the sacrament—the sacred emblems of the Savior’s sacrifice. Then what I had seen in the temple so many years ago became a living reality right in front of me. I silently thanked Heavenly Father for what I was experiencing. It was a holy moment for me.
The story could end there, but fortunately it hasn’t. I have since watched as the Atonement has continued to work in the life of my son. Remember our inspired branch president? My son’s testimony has continued to grow, and the invitation of our branch president became a reality. Alex recently finished serving as a full-time missionary. He spent two years reaching out and helping others—as the Lord reached out to him.
I am grateful to be Alex’s mother, but I am even more grateful for the Atonement of Jesus Christ that works in the lives of all of us.

Years passed, and I got my mission call. Before leaving to go to Argentina, I dropped by Will’s house to say good-bye and tell him I’d miss him. He wasn’t home at first, but his mom was. Surprisingly, she shared with me how much she appreciated the friendship I had offered Will. His dad had abandoned them when Will was two, and with no male role model for him, she felt helpless as she watched him grow up. She felt she was losing touch with her son. After her husband had left, she had prayed that her son would make a friend, a friend who would help keep her son out of trouble.
“You were that friend,” she told me. “Thanks for helping me raise my son. Thanks for answering my prayers.”
I couldn’t help but hug her. She was the mother of my best friend through high school. The mother of a friend who had always been there for me. All this time she thought Heavenly Father had answered her prayer, and I thought He had answered mine. I know God hears our prayers. And sometimes, some very special times, He uses us to answer them too.

In speaking of the President of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, the Lord proclaimed:
“And again, the duty of the President of the office of the High Priesthood is to preside over the whole church, and to be like unto Moses—
“… Yea, to be a seer, a revelator, a translator, and a prophet, having all the gifts of God which he bestows upon the head of the church” (Doctrine and Covenants 107:91–92; emphasis added).
I have been blessed to witness some of the gifts of God upon His prophets. May I share one such sacred experience with you? Prior to my current calling, I assisted in identifying and recommending future temple sites. After September 11, 2001, crossings along the U.S. borders became more controlled. As a result, it took two to three hours for many Church members to make the crossing from Vancouver, Canada, while going to the Seattle Washington Temple. President Gordon B. Hinckley, President of the Church at that time, suggested that a temple in Vancouver would bless members of the Church. A site search was authorized, and after we examined several Church-owned properties, other sites not owned by the Church were also investigated.
A beautiful site with religious zoning adjacent to the Trans-Canadian Highway was found. The property had excellent access, was dotted with beautiful Canadian pine trees, and enjoyed a prominent location which would make it visible to thousands of passing motorists.
We presented the site with pictures and maps in the monthly Temple Sites Committee meeting. President Hinckley authorized that we place it under contract and complete the necessary studies. In December of that year, we reported back to the committee that the studies were complete, and we sought approval to proceed with the purchase. After hearing our report, President Hinckley said, “I feel I should see this site.”
Later that month, two days after Christmas, we left for Vancouver with President Hinckley; President Thomas S. Monson; and Bill Williams, a temple architect. We were met by Paul Christensen, the local stake president, who transported us to the site. It was a little wet and misty that day, but President Hinckley jumped out of the car and began walking all over the site.
After spending time on the site, I asked President Hinckley if he would like to see some of the other sites that had been considered. He said yes, he would like that. You see, by looking at the other sites, we were able to make a comparison of their virtues.
We did a large clockwise loop around Vancouver looking at the other properties, ultimately arriving back at the original site. President Hinckley said, “This is a beautiful site.” Then he asked, “Can we go to the Church-owned meetinghouse about one-quarter mile [0.4 km] away?”
“Of course, President,” we responded.
We got back into the cars and drove to the nearby meetinghouse. As we arrived at the chapel, President Hinckley said, “Turn left here.” We turned and followed the street as instructed. The street began to rise slightly.
Just as the car reached the crown of the rise, President Hinckley said, “Stop the car, stop the car.” He then pointed to the right at a parcel of ground and said, “What about this property? This is where the temple goes. This is where the Lord wants the temple. Can you get it? Can you get it?”
We hadn’t looked at this property. It was farther back and away from the main road, and it was not listed for sale. When we responded we didn’t know, President Hinckley pointed to the property and said again, “This is where the temple goes.” We stayed a few minutes, then left for the airport to return home.
The next day, Brother Williams and I were called to President Hinckley’s office. He had drawn out everything on a piece of paper: the roads, the chapel, turn left here, X marks the spot for the temple. He asked what we had found out. We told him he couldn’t have picked a more difficult property. It was owned by three individuals: one from Canada, one from India, and one from China! And it didn’t have the necessary religious zoning.
“Well, do your best,” he said.
Then the miracles happened. Within several months we owned the property, and later the city of Langley, British Columbia, gave permission to build the temple.
In reflecting upon this experience, I am humbled by the realization that while Brother Williams and I possessed formal education and years of experience in real estate and temple design, President Hinckley had no such formal training, but he had something far greater—the gift of prophetic seership. He was able to envision where God’s temple should stand.
When the Lord commanded the early Saints in this dispensation to construct a temple, He declared:
“But let a house be built unto my name according to the pattern which I will show unto them.
“And if my people build it not according to the pattern which I shall show … , I will not accept it at their hands” (Doctrine and Covenants 115:14–15).
As with the early Saints, so it is with us today: the Lord has revealed and continues to reveal to the President of the Church the patterns by which the kingdom of God is to be directed in our day. And, at a personal level, he provides guidance as to how each of us should direct our lives, such that our conduct may likewise be acceptable to the Lord.
In April 2013 I spoke about the efforts involved in preparing every temple’s foundation to ensure that it can withstand the storms and calamities to which it will be subjected. But the foundation is just the beginning. A temple is composed of many building blocks, fitted together according to predesigned patterns. If our lives are to become the temples each of us is striving to construct as taught by the Lord (see 1 Corinthians 3:16–17), we could reasonably ask ourselves, “What building blocks should we put in place in order to make our lives beautiful, majestic, and resistant to the storms of the world?”
We can find the answer to this question in the Book of Mormon. Concerning the Book of Mormon, the Prophet Joseph Smith said, “I told the brethren that the Book of Mormon was the most correct of any book on earth, and the keystone of our religion, and a man would get nearer to God by abiding by its precepts, than by any other book” (introduction to the Book of Mormon). In the introduction to the Book of Mormon, we are taught that “those who gain [a] divine witness from the Holy Spirit [that the Book of Mormon is the word of God] will also come to know by the same power that Jesus Christ is the Savior of the world, that Joseph Smith is His revelator and [prophet of the Restoration], and that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the Lord’s kingdom once again established on the earth.”
These then are some essential building blocks of our individual faith and testimony:
Jesus Christ is the Savior of the world.
The Book of Mormon is the word of God.
The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the kingdom of God on the earth.
Joseph Smith is a prophet, and we have living prophets on the earth today.
In recent months, I have listened to every general conference address which President Nelson has given since he was first called as an Apostle. This exercise has changed my life. As I studied and pondered 34 years of President Nelson’s collected wisdom, clear and consistent themes emerged from his teachings. Each of these themes relates to those building blocks just mentioned or is another key building block for our personal temples. They include faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, repentance, baptism for the remission of sins, the gift of the Holy Ghost, redemption of the dead and temple work, keeping the Sabbath day holy, beginning with the end in mind, staying on the covenant path. President Nelson has spoken of them all with love and devotion.

One evening we were eating treats outside and reading in the Book of Mormon about the fall of the Nephites. I felt impressed to ask the children why they thought the Nephites had turned so wicked. Six-year-old Celeste said she thought the Nephites and Lamanites had stopped saying their daily prayers. We all agreed that the fall of the Nephites started with forgetting prayer and other seemingly little things. At that moment, the thought came to me to invite the children to pray with more thought and feeling.

The following day I asked them how their prayers went. This gave them a chance to share their experiences and gave me a chance to further share my testimony of prayer. Not every family scripture study experience has gone this well, but when we have had discussions and invitations to act as part of our study, the scriptures have become more meaningful.

Dale McCullers was an off-season social worker at a Florida boys’ ranch and a professional gridder for the Baltimore Colts the rest of the year. An All-American college linebacker, Dale had helped pull the Colts to victory in the Super Bowl.
Needing a used truck for his summer work, he was sent by a friend to a nearby auto lot where he spotted a truck he liked. He went to ask a salesman about it. Morris Poole glanced toward the truck Dale was pointing at and then looked squarely into the eyes of the linebacker who was planted in front of him.
“Now forget about the truck for a moment. I want to tell you about an angel named Moroni.”
Dale had intercepted many a pass but never one like that.
“I’m no biblical scholar, but I’ve never heard of such an angel.”
Dale drove away in a rebuilt 1949 truck, wondering if there was anything at all to the salesman’s story of Joseph Smith.
A believer in “customer service,” Brother Poole soon introduced Dale to the missionaries. Finishing the discussions took some persistence by Brother Poole and the elders. By his own admission Dale had some trouble accepting the fact that a used car salesman, a 19-year-old from an unknown city in Utah, and a Yankee from New York really had something important to say.
Dale and his wife Nell listened to the discussions during the following eight weeks. Shortly after, Dale was baptized by Brother Poole. Bearing his testimony after his baptism, Dale said, “All the excitement and glamour of playing ball seem insignificant next to finding the truth of the gospel.”
Morris went back to his car lot, grateful he’d had the courage to sell more than a 1949 used truck. Today Brother McCullers is president of the Live Oak Branch in the Tallahassee Florida Stake.

It has been a most important influence also in missionary work. For example: When I was a young missionary, I had a companion—a wonderful man from Rupert, Idaho. His name was Elder Henry L. Baker. We tracted together in a city in eastern Canada.
As we came to one door, a woman responded to our knock and immediately invited us in—before we had a chance to give the usual door approach! Hardly had we entered the house when she said, “Where is the book you were to bring me?”
Naturally, we were astonished. But she quickly explained. She said that during the previous night she had had a dream in which she saw us come to her home. It was so vivid, she said, that when she saw us approaching her door, she recognized us instantly. She was told in the dream that we had a book that would lead her entire family to salvation.
Immediately we gave her the Book of Mormon and discussed it at some length with her. She invited us to return that same evening to meet her family, which we did. After an appropriate period of study, the family joined the Church and all are still faithful and true.

After graduation, at summer’s end, I moved away from home to attend college as did she, leaving hundreds of miles between us. We kept in touch. It would be another three years before Annemarie would confront me about the Church.
“I’m here!” she shrieked, bounding across the crowded room and grabbing me in an enormous bear hug. I bounced up and down, laughing like a third grader, and ignoring the fact that I was not only 21 years old but at the center of attention. Friends and family members smiled in amusement at my joyous reunion with Annemarie. “I was so afraid I would be late,” she panted, squeezing into a chair next to me.
“I wouldn’t have started without you,” I assured her. Then I took a deep breath as a hush fell over the room. I carefully opened the large envelope and silently read the first few lines. “Santiago,” I whispered.
“What?” my parents screeched. “Speak up!”
I cleared my throat and announced, “I will be serving in Santiago, Chile!”
After congratulations had been given and treats passed around, Annemarie and I escaped onto the front porch swing.
“What are you thinking about?” she questioned.
I smiled with satisfaction. “My mission, what else? I’m so excited to serve!”
She smiled back, but there was sadness in her eyes. “I’m happy for you.”
“But … what?” I prodded. Only the lazy creaking of the porch swing and crickets chirping in the distance interrupted the silence. My inquiry hung in the air for several moments before she spoke.
“Do you remember when I asked you if your church makes you happy?”
I nodded, smiling regretfully in remembrance of that first time I bore my testimony to her. I had been so unsure of myself, so timid. Now, within a few months, I would be testifying to strangers in broken Spanish.
Annemarie continued, “I want you to know that you’ve proven yourself to be right. You are the most religiously enthusiastic person I’ve ever met. My admiration started that day in ninth grade when you refused that beer, and it’s been growing ever since.”
I stared, dumbfounded. “How come you never told me that before? I’ve always wondered what makes you so apprehensive to talk about religion.”
She frowned in thought. “It makes me sad,” she admitted. “Religion makes you happy, and it makes me sad.”
“Why, Annemarie? That’s not the way Christ would have us feel.”
“I’ll never be able to feel enthusiastic like you about my religion, and I wonder if it’s my fault. It’s not that I haven’t tried. What am I doing wrong? I’m afraid I’ll forever be a failure at faith. So I end up avoiding church altogether. That is why church makes me sad.”
“I am happy for you,” she reaffirmed, smiling shakily. “I just wish I could be like you. Isn’t that what you and all of our friends have been hoping for all these years? That one day I would be a member like all of you?” She winked knowingly.
“Yes!” I replied with a laugh. Then more seriously, I said, “That is what I wanted in the beginning. That was before I understood some things. I don’t want you to be like me at all. I want you to join the Church of Jesus Christ so you can come to know and to be like Him. That’s what my church is all about.”
“Mine, too.”
“Look, please don’t feel that I’m degrading the church you attend in any way, but not all Christian churches contain the fulness of His gospel.”
“And you think that is found in your church?” she asked.
I looked into her dark blue eyes, channeling all the strength and emotion of my soul into bearing witness. “I want you to know that I know The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is true and contains the fulness of the gospel of Jesus Christ.”
“How do you know it’s true?” Annemarie challenged. “Can you tell me the exact moment you knew your church was true?”
“No,” I admitted slowly. “I don’t remember an exact moment when I knew. I think somehow I’ve always known it.”
“Lucky you,” Annemarie teased with a smile.
“You can know it too. Ask in faith and God will show you the way.”
“I’ve been wanting to find the way for such a long time,” she sighed wearily. “I don’t know what else I can do.”
“Read the Book of Mormon and pray about it,” I said. “If the book is true, the Church is true. It’s that simple.”
“I’m glad that’s your idea of simple!” Annemarie burst out. A moment of indecision flashed across her eyes, and I watched her gradually relent. “Okay, Beth. I’ll do it.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.” She added, “Don’t get your hopes up. Be good out there, Beth. I’ll miss you.”
Two months later, I entered the Missionary Training Center, satisfied with the testimony I had left with my friend back home and excited to testify among my new friends I had yet to meet in South America.

That fall the children all came down with strep throat. We gave them antibiotics, and soon everybody was fine except for Jesse. His cough wouldn’t go away, and his neck became swollen. Pat took him to the pediatrician for what we thought would be a second antibiotic.
Two hours later Pat called from the hospital. The pediatrician had sent Jesse there for an X-ray to check for infection in his lungs. Instead, doctors found an 11-inch tumor in his chest.
“Go home, get your family packed up, head to Birmingham, and prepare for a lengthy stay,” the doctor said.
A few days after we arrived at the children’s hospital in Birmingham, we received Jesse’s diagnosis. He had pediatric acute lymphoblastic leukemia, a rare type of aggressive leukemia.
For the next three weeks, Pat and I lived at the hospital. While I zoned in on Jesse, Pat made the 90-minute drive back and forth from our home to the hospital. He tried to keep our business going and care for our goats. My mother-in-law came from California and stayed with our other children.
Jesse’s tumor had begun to cut off his airways, but it shrank after six weeks of chemotherapy. We thought that once the cancer went into remission, it would be an easy road ahead, but then Jesse got a blood clot in his brain. After doctors dealt with that, he got fungal pneumonia. He was in and out of the hospital seven times over the next several months.
In December 2015, while Jesse was back in the hospital, I began reading the Book of Mormon. I thought, “I left the Church, and I just want to rule it out like I’ve ruled out all the other churches.” But right away, it hit me like a ton of bricks—full peace. The book just spoke to me. I didn’t even have to pray to find out it was true. I knew in my heart it was true from the very beginning. I would read for hours sitting in that hospital room.
At one point, Jesse spiked a fever, which lasted for 10 days. It wouldn’t break, and doctors decided they needed to do a bone marrow biopsy to see if the leukemia had returned. I remember lying on the floor of the hospital. I had reached bottom. That’s when I decided to call Elaine Oborn, a member of our ward while I was growing up in Alabama.
I had been best friends with Sister Oborn’s daughter. Though I hadn’t spoken to the Oborn family for 20 years, I couldn’t get Elaine’s face out of my mind. I looked her up on Facebook, and there on the hospital floor, I called her.
“Do you even remember me?” I asked.
After explaining what our family was experiencing, I told Sister Oborn: “I don’t know what I need, but I need something. I’m not active in the Church. We don’t even have a church, but I keep thinking of you. Please, can you help me?”
“We can start by getting you and Jesse a blessing,” she said. She said her husband, Lynn, would come to the hospital that evening.
After the phone call, I told Pat, “I know you’re not a member of the Church, but can we have some guys come and give Jesse a blessing?”
“Whatever it takes for him to feel better,” he said.
That evening, in came Brother Oborn with two full-time missionaries, all dressed in white medical protective clothing because Jesse was so sick.
“The angels are coming for us,” I remember thinking as I opened the door.
They gave Jesse a blessing. Then Brother Oborn lined up all the kids and gave each of them a blessing. Then he gave me a blessing. Then he gave Pat a blessing. That was one of the first experiences where we all felt the Spirit. It was powerful. The next day, Jesse’s fever broke. As soon as he was released from the hospital, we started attending church.
In February 2016, the full-time missionaries began visiting us. At first Pat thought they were coming over to help on the farm. When we accepted an invitation for them to teach us, he thought the lessons were just for the children.
As the missionaries were preparing to teach us their first lesson, Pat went out to work on the tractor. After about 20 minutes, I could see that they—two sisters and two elders—were deflated. At that moment, I felt that I should get Pat and ask him to come listen for a couple of minutes.
Later the missionaries told me that they had been praying that that’s what I would do. They knew that Pat needed to hear what they were teaching.
After the missionaries had taught us for several weeks, Jesse, Bo, and Frank wanted to be baptized. Pat thought that was great, but he felt that he was “beyond salvation.” That was before he met Von and Glenda Memory and heard Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles speak during general conference.
When we saw Brother Memory at church, I recognized him from when I was a child. He was now serving as the ward mission leader. Pat introduced himself, telling Brother Memory that he really wanted the Church for our children.
“That sounds good,” Brother Memory said with a twinkle in his eye. “We’ll do it for the children.”
A few weeks later, after a lesson from the missionaries on the plan of salvation, Brother Memory said, “Boys, we’re going to talk about your baptism.” Then he added, “And then we’re going to talk about your dad’s baptism.”
Pat said OK, but his doubts about his readiness and worthiness persisted until general conference that April.
“You may be afraid, angry, grieving, or tortured by doubt,” Elder Uchtdorf said in his talk. “But just as the Good Shepherd finds His lost sheep, if you will only lift up your heart to the Savior of the world, He will find you.”1
Pat said: “Before then, it hadn’t occurred to me that I really could be a part of this, that I was worthy of salvation. But after listening to Elder Uchtdorf, it hit me that it wasn’t too late for me. I actually have a shot to get to heaven. I had never felt anything like that. From then on I knew. This is the Savior’s Church. We found it. I got baptized and received the priesthood. A week later I baptized my boys. When our girls were old enough, I baptized them.”
A year later, we were sealed in the Birmingham Alabama Temple.
Living the gospel of Jesus Christ as members of His Church has strengthened our marriage. It has made me a better mom. It has given our kids a foundation they never would have had. We’re confident about their futures, now that they have the Church in their lives.
I’m so grateful for everything that has happened and for all the lessons I’ve learned. I think it was important for me to go through a lot of stuff, a lot of mental anguish. I needed to be humbled, feel desperate for God’s help and love and forgiveness, and forgive myself of wrongdoings earlier in my life.
Jesse completed chemotherapy and his last round of steroids in March 2019. We would be devastated if his cancer returned, but now we have an eternal perspective. Now we’re sealed as a family. I can’t imagine ever not having the Church as my go-to for everything. The gospel has changed us forever.
Whatever happens, it’s going to be OK. We’re not afraid anymore. Jesse’s illness led to the best thing that ever happened to us. It brought us to the Savior’s Church.

When Joseph Fielding Smith was ten years old, his mother woke him in the middle of the night.
Mother: Sister Thomas is having her baby, Joseph. I need you to take me to her quickly!
Joseph readied their mare and hitched her to the buggy.
Joseph: Come on, Old Meg.
Joseph: Too many babies are born on cold winter nights, Mother.
Mother: Try to make Old Meg go faster, son!
When they arrived, Joseph waited for hours while his mother helped Sister Thomas.
But when the baby came, the midnight journey and long wait seemed worthwhile.
Mother: Isn’t she beautiful, Joseph?
Sister Thomas: Thank you, Joseph. Thank you for bringing your mother.
Mother: Joseph, I still remember when you were born. I’m so proud of the hard-working boy you’ve become.
Joseph: Thanks, Mother. I’m proud, too … proud that I wasn’t born on a cold winter night!

Not long after I was called to be the general Young Women president, I received a letter from a young woman from Nairobi, Kenya, in East Africa. Sylvia, who was fifteen at the time, told me her father had been killed in a road accident. She said:
“When he died, I felt a part of me had been killed also. All this has made me a different person. Someone I don’t like. It has affected my studies and my spiritual nature. My grades are dropping. I hate school. There are times I forget to pray. I am losing my trust in God. All the love, warmth, and security I used to feel is all gone from me.
“Sister Hales, please help me. I feel if I don’t do something or get some help, I am going to destroy myself.”
I felt an urgency in Sylvia’s plea for help, but I was thousands of miles away. Carefully I wrote a letter, hoping my words of faith would help her regain trust in our Heavenly Father. Then I suggested: “Read the scriptures each day. After reading the scriptures each day, please write and tell me if it helps the way you are feeling.”
Weeks later Sylvia said: “I had stopped reading the scriptures; and when I read them, it was like I couldn’t understand and I would put them away. You have given me that desire to … search more diligently the scriptures. I am discovering very precious, spiritual nourishment. Thank you for that suggestion.”
Sylvia received help when she felt desperate and alone, but she also found the scriptures could help her improve her life. She later said: “I have decided to work hard to be a better person. I have to overcome some of my bad traits and replace them with good ones and to withstand people who want to tear me down and tear down my faith, especially in school. I am the only LDS member in our school.”
As Sylvia’s commitment to read the scriptures continued, she realized that Heavenly Father would help guide her in making decisions.
Later she said: “I have become busy, but I have not forgotten my scriptures. I desire to have the faith like the Brother of Jared or Nephi which enabled them to know the Lord’s will for them. I am planning to meditate on ways to strengthen my faith. I turned sixteen.”
As months passed, Sylvia’s understanding of the scriptures grew deeper, and she expressed a desire to help others. She said: “I love going to church, and the most exciting part is when I get to help with the Primary children. I love hearing them sing and read and saying what they feel.”
As Sylvia started to help others, she started to better understand our Savior. She told of reading about Christ’s final ministry on the earth, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection. She came to understand more clearly Christ’s mission on earth and his great love for us.
Sylvia continued to face challenges and peer pressure, but she had found a permanent source of help in the scriptures. When she got word that my mother had passed away, she wrote to encourage me and strengthen my faith.
The resource suggested for her three years ago, reading the scriptures, was much greater help than I could have given. Scripture reading did help her with her immediate crisis, but the scriptures have become a permanent resource to her—a resource that will always be with her. She has learned that our Heavenly Father will not fail her.