Gospel Story Finder

I was six years old the day I discovered I was alive. It was a clear morning in late spring, and I was on my way to catch the school bus. I was about halfway through a small field when I heard an unseen voice call out. “I’m a pretty little bird,” the voice sang—at least that’s what my mother told me meadowlarks sing.
At the sound, I suddenly felt a strange emotion pass through me. I stood still and for the first time really noticed the world around me. I looked up. The sky was a sea of changing color in which clouds floated like feathered ships. The air itself smelled clean and young, and the grassy field where I stood was filled to translucence with sunshine—wild flowers of gold and yellow.
Somehow the meadowlark had awakened me to the beauty of the earth and to the fact that I was part of it. I still can’t put into words all that I felt, but I think that day I came about as close as I’ve ever come to feeling God’s presence.

Some people are able to identify some moment or event when they discovered the truthfulness of the gospel. I’m not one of those people, but I’d like to tell how I came to know that the Church is true.
Like many, I was born and raised in the Church and had always believed in the gospel. But when I became a teenager, I started to question my testimony. How could I really know for sure? I was hoping for some sort of spiritual manifestation that would eliminate all my doubts. I was very troubled because of my uncertainty. Whenever I bore my testimony, I always talked about the good things in the Church, but I couldn’t say that I knew it was true. What I didn’t realize then is that our testimonies don’t necessarily come in the form of fireworks but rather as a small spark or flame which must be fed.
During my senior year of high school, my seminary teacher taught me another important principle necessary in gaining a testimony. She would often tell us that if we really wanted to know if the Church was true, we needed to live what we believe. Although it is essential to pray and study the scriptures, knowledge without application is worthless. I finally realized that I had always known the Church was true through living the standards and constantly having to explain and defend my beliefs. I had been feeding my fire by sharing my flame with others. It helped me realize how strongly my beliefs burned within me.
Now I am able to stand in front of the congregation and say, “I know that this Church is true.” I know that if you study the Lord’s teachings, strive to become closer to Him through constant prayer, and stand as a witness of God “at all times and in all things, and in all places” (Mosiah 18:9), you will also discover for yourself the truthfulness of the gospel.

For example, years ago, on a small island in Tonga there lived an elderly sister by the name of Vaikato Tavutu. One day a group of Tongan building missionaries came to the island to erect a chapel. After they arrived, they discovered that this sister knew all the details for the design and layout of the building. The missionaries could not understand how she knew all this without ever seeing the blueprints. It turns out that decades before the building missionaries arrived, Sister Tavutu was experiencing an illness when the apostle, George Albert Smith, visited the tiny island and gave Sister Tavutu a priesthood blessing.

During the blessing sister Tavutu said she was able to understand all the words in her own tongue and he promised her that if she would be faithful, she would live to see a beautiful chapel erected on her island. She saw this chapel in a vision and saw that it would have a “gold steeple that shone in the sunlight.”

The supervising labor missionary went on to say:

“One day [many years after her vision, Sister Tavutu] became very ill. Her brother went to her and told her she had better repent of her sins and confess her lies [about her vision about the chapel which had never come]. He told her she knew that she had told lies all those years and now she was going to die with that on her conscience. Well, Vaikato recovered; and after many years, her vision was fulfilled.

“Vaikato was not certain of her age but thought she might be 102 or so. She was on the work site each morning helping to fill the barrels with water with which to mix the mortar; she was also carrying the coral bricks to the builders. I spoke to her through an interpreter and told her not to carry the water. The buckets were too heavy for her and the men could do it. I also asked her to please only carry one brick at a time, as they were about the size of our cinder blocks. However, as soon as I was out of sight, she started carrying two bricks at a time again. One of the Tongan builders came to me and asked for some gloves for Vaikato because her hands were bleeding from the rough blocks. I got down from the scaffold and went to the lady, admonishing her again through the interpreter to only carry one brick at a time. I took off my gloves and gave them to her.

“The tears started running down Vaikato’s cheeks, and I thought I had wounded her feelings. Then I noticed the tears rolling down the interpreter’s face. He told me: ‘The little lady said that the Savior’s hands had bled for her and that she was not ashamed to have her hands bleed for the Savior’s work.’” (Eric Shumway, Tongan Saints: Legacy of Faith, 178-180).

When I was elders quorum president of the Cambridge Ward in Boston, Massachusetts, we found that we often lost track of incoming LDS students during the first few days of their arrival to attend universities in the area. Some of them never did seem to be associated with us in a strong, active way. We developed a program called Project 48. It offered incoming students who would be members of our elders quorum a chance to stay with a quorum member for 48 hours. The quorum member helped the newcomer find a place to live (we kept a list of available apartments). Quorum members offered friendship and brotherhood to the arriving student and made sure he knew his way around.
We bonded many new arrivals to our quorum this way. We didn’t lose them during the first critical hours in a new environment. Twenty-five years later, Project 48 is still being used to welcome students in the Boston area.

The Relief Society was organized by God’s prophet Joseph and has been led and is led today by a prophet so that we may become true followers of Jesus Christ. That is the answer to the question, “Why Relief Society?” That is why we participate and that is what it can do for us: instruct us more perfectly in our covenant obligations and promises to be disciples of our Lord Jesus Christ. Or, as Joseph Smith instructed those first sisters in 1842: “[This] … Society is not only to relieve the poor, but to save souls” (History of the Church, 5:25). What does it mean to save souls? Let me give one example of the many I have witnessed as I have visited among you. A South African sister once told me that when her husband died and she was left to rear their six children, she relied on the teachings of the Bible for direction. She often pondered the meaning of Proverbs 13, verse 24, which is interpreted widely as “spare the rod and spoil the child.” [Prov. 13:24] When she joined the Church she turned to the Book of Mormon, too, for understanding. There she found mention of another rod, the word of God which leads one along the path to the tree of life. Then she understood that sparing this rod would certainly spoil her children. Thus, she has learned to order her home, to bring the light of the gospel, to save the souls of her children.
I saw Sister Mavimbela again very recently when she received an award at Brigham Young University, and she has enlarged her sphere. In conversation she told me that by participating in her Relief Society in Soweto she has learned to apply its saving ways within her community. Using visiting teaching and welfare principles, such as those described in the Church’s manual Providing in the Lord’s Way, she has supervised more than a thousand children as they learn to garden and raise food for themselves and others. She has also enlisted more than 250 grandmothers in her community to help with the many tasks essential to the temporal and spiritual nurturing of children and the strengthening of families. Sister Mavimbela is saving souls. She is in the same mold as those great women, such as Eliza R. Snow, Phoebe Kimball, and Zina D. H. Young, who began to visit one another in Nauvoo for the purpose of feeding hungry families and shoring up struggling faith in difficult times. This is what Relief Society is for: to make of us women who can nourish body and soul, who can “succor [God’s children] according to their infirmities” (Alma 7:12). This is the work our Savior did, and it is the work to which he called us when he ordered this society under the direction of the priesthood.

Let me share a sweet story with you. A family was going through a difficult time. It was hard for them not to focus on their challenges. The mother wrote: “Our world had completely crumpled, so we turned to Heavenly Father for guidance. Almost immediately we realized that we were surrounded by goodness and were being cheered on from every side. We began as a family to express our gratitude to each other as well as to the Lord daily. A close friend pointed out to me that our family’s ‘blessing basket’ was overflowing. From that conversation came a sort of game, which my children and I grew to love. Before family prayer each night we would talk about how our day had gone and then share with each other all of the many blessings that had been added to our ‘blessing basket.’ The more we expressed gratitude, the more there was to be grateful for. We felt the love of the Lord in a significant way as opportunities for growth presented themselves.”

A few weeks later I started to struggle with school, friends, family, and even my faith. I was reading my scriptures one night, and as I was about to stop, I felt the urge to keep reading. I followed the prompting and read several scriptures that mentioned prayer. I then recalled my patriarchal blessing and how it said that I need to pray often and have a close relationship with my Heavenly Father and the Holy Ghost. I had not been the best at saying my prayers. I realized that I was missing out on one of the blessings I would have been getting.

When we refer to the Holy Ghost as the still, small voice, it is not an understatement. He truly speaks in still and small ways. We must pay close attention to make sure we don’t miss what the Lord is trying to tell us or advise us to do. I know that we will be blessed if we always listen to the still, small voice.

One day my missionary companion and I were given a referral to teach a man who lived in a village called Tema, near the beautiful city of Accra, Ghana. The numbering of the houses in that village was not quite accurate, so we were given a written description to help us locate the house.
When we arrived in the village, we followed the directions but could not find the man because there seemed to be many houses that fit that same description. Feeling confused, we decided to knock on doors in the neighborhood to ask, but no one seemed to know the man we were looking for. I had the prompting to ask Heavenly Father for help.
After we prayed, I had the feeling that we would find the man we were looking for, so we intensified our efforts. Still, we did not find him. We got tired and decided to return to our proselyting area because we had other appointments. When we got to the taxi park, the taxi driver who had brought us to the village saw the disappointed looks on our faces and asked if we had found who we were looking for. Our answer was, of course, no.
He suggested we go inside a school that stood on the corner and ask there. We told him that was not the description we had been given, but he insisted. We got out of the taxi and headed to the school—not because we thought we would find anyone, but just to please our concerned friend.
As we started walking toward the administration building at the school, a little boy came running in our direction. He smiled and told us that he and his brother were the only members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints living in this area and that he could help us.
My companion and I looked at each other in disbelief. It was a miracle. The boy helped us find the man we were looking for, and eventually he accepted the gospel and was baptized.
This experience taught me that Heavenly Father answers prayers in His own time and in His own way. When we do not get immediate answers to our prayers, we can exercise faith in Him and learn to be patient.

The New Era is such a blessing to me! The only thing I don’t like about it is having to wait a whole month for the next issue.
I am a paratrooper in the U.S. Army, and that means that some Sundays have to be spent training in the woods rather than worshipping in church. When I know I can’t make it to church, I will bring my scriptures, along with the New Era. As soon as there is some free time, I dig them out and start reading. During these times the Spirit can be so strong that I often forget where I am. Another added blessing is that I live in Kaysville, Utah, and since a lot of the pictures and articles are from people in Utah I get to see a lot of familiar places. Once or twice I have even seen familiar faces.
When I first joined the army I was basically inactive, but soon after experiencing the scary feeling of jumping out of a plane at midnight, I felt the need to know that the Lord would watch over me. Very soon after praying about it, I found that my mother had subscribed to the New Era for me. It has helped me so much to become active again, and now I am holding my breath until I can go on a mission in 17 months.
As for jumping out of airplanes, it’s a piece of cake!
Gregory TibbetsFt. Bragg, North Carolina

Life sent me a hurricane of sorrow in December 2016. Our oldest grandchild, Derek, stopped breathing, and his parents rushed him to the hospital. With a measure of confidence, I asked Heavenly Father to bless little Derek. As I was praying, the Spirit gently impressed on my mind, “Little Derek has returned home to heaven.”
Photograph courtesy of Cordon family
Wait, what? Despite my reeling shock, an instant “peace of God” (Philippians 4:7) came to my heart and mind.
The week after Derek’s passing, I was scheduled to do ministering visits at a children’s hospital. I felt overwhelmed and didn’t think I could walk back into those medical sights, sounds, and smells. But as I checked in, a sweet peace came over me. The Lord knew my willingness even though I was hurting, and He orchestrated an extra dose of love for me. I was guided to visit a young child fighting cancer. He had written on his whiteboard: “Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding” (Proverbs 3:5).
To this day, that scripture is a reminder that Heavenly Father knows and loves me. I still have a hole in my heart for Derek—and will until I see him again. But until then, I gain solace in the Lord and keep moving forward.

Earlier this year, my three sons and I visited the sites in France where my father fought in the U.S. Army in World War I. Great was the suffering and terrible were the consequences to all involved in that war. Millions lost their lives. Although my father was not killed, he carried mental and physical scars until he died. Despite his terrifying experiences, he prefaced his diary as follows: “If I had to do it again, I would do it because it was my duty.” As we traveled 80 years later through the beautiful countryside, we visited battle sites and cemeteries of the combatants on both sides. In the military cemetery outside Paris, with my hand resting on Stanford Hinckley’s cross, I called President Hinckley on a cellular phone to express my feelings on that occasion.
World War I was particularly tragic for our family because my father had some second cousins serving on the other side of that conflict in some of the same general battle areas. We eventually became acquainted with these relatives and found them to be decent, God-fearing Christians. They had nothing to do with the grand geopolitics or causes of the war. Like my father, they were serving their country because it was their duty. World War I and the wars that followed brought such great suffering and caused the deaths of countless innocent people. In its simplest terms, wars are so often caused by a great lust for power.

Justina sat extra tall in her seat. She placed her new pencils at the top of her desk. Today was the first day of school. She’d met her classmates and drawn a fun picture. So far, so good.
Then Mrs. Werner said, “Time to work on writing!” Mrs. Werner handed out papers to the class. “You have 30 minutes to work on this. Then we’ll go to recess.”
Justina gulped. Oh no. Writing already? she thought.
Last year Justina had a hard time with reading and writing. All of her friends seemed to like it. It wasn’t so hard for them. What if this year was like last year all over again?
Justina picked up her pencil. She looked at her paper. Her stomach sank. All the other students were already writing. Except for her.
She wanted to talk to Mrs. Werner. Would she be mad that Justina was having trouble? Even if she was, that still sounded better than writing.
Justina walked to her teacher’s desk. “Mrs. Werner? This is harder than what I did last year. I don’t think I can do it.”
Mrs. Werner didn’t look upset. She smiled at Justina. “Do what you can. You might be surprised at what you can do! You can’t always choose what you’re good at. But you can always choose how hard you try.”
Justina walked back to her desk. She thought about what Mrs. Werner said. I can choose to try. That was like what she learned in Primary. Her class read a scripture that said we are “free to choose.”
Could school be different this year? Justina wondered. Maybe she could choose to make it different! Justina picked up her pencil. She looked at her paper. She took a deep breath. OK. I’m going to try, she thought.
The recess bell rang. Justina wasn’t finished yet. But she was more than halfway done! She raised her hand. “Can I stay and keep working? I’m so close to being done!”
Mrs. Werner smiled and nodded.
Justina finally handed in her paper. Her hand ached a little bit. Even her brain hurt! But she was smiling. She had never worked so hard on writing before.
The next day the class worked on reading. Mrs. Werner asked everyone to read for 20 minutes. Justina tried again. She opened her book and sounded out the words.
Justina started making new choices every day. She chose to read. She chose to write. Maybe reading and writing weren’t so bad!
She even chose to go to the library. She checked out books. Last year she would have never done that. Soon she was reading all the time. It was actually fun! And the more she read, the better she got at writing.
And soon, reading and writing became some of her favorite things to do!

I have had similar experiences in my spiritual life. At Christmastime, after my first child was born, Margo and I traveled back to Utah from Wisconsin, where I was studying physics. When my daughter, Melanie, got an ear infection, we found that we were missing two really important things: insurance coverage and money—two things that many of you have trouble with, too. She cried and cried, and it started to look like a budget-busting Sunday night trip to the emergency room was going to be required. In desperation I went to a bedroom in my in-laws’ house, where we were staying, closed the door, held her in my arms, and gave her a priesthood blessing. She immediately settled down and went to sleep, and the next day a kind doctor treated her ear infection (for cheap) in his office.

While serving as mission president, I had the pleasure of meeting personally with each of our young missionaries every six weeks. During the one-on-one meeting, it was common for missionaries to seek guidance on how to improve the effectiveness of their companionships.

On one occasion, a missionary came into his personal interview and sat down. I could tell from his body language that something was weighing heavily on his mind. I asked, “Elder, what would you like to discuss today?” He went on to describe some of the challenges he was having with his companion and how it was affecting their ability to do missionary work. With tears in his eyes, he looked at me and asked, “President, what should I do?”

In that instance, I honestly didn’t know how to respond. After a brief moment, I asked him if it was OK for us to kneel together in prayer for guidance from the Spirit. He agreed, and we knelt together and prayed for inspiration.

After the prayer, we continued kneeling for a short time and then sat in our chairs facing each other. I asked if we could read a scripture together. As we opened our scriptures, I paused and told him, “Elder, as we read this scripture, please ask yourself the following question: If I live these attributes, will it improve my companionship and our missionary work?”

Then we opened Moroni 7:45 and read out loud: “And charity suffereth long, and is kind, and envieth not, and is not puffed up, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil, and rejoiceth not in iniquity but rejoiceth in the truth, beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.”

The elder then looked at me with tears in his eyes and said, “Yes, President, but that is hard to do.” I agreed and reminded him that he is a son of God with divine potential to do it together with the Lord.

Then we briefly discussed the parable of the slope taught by Elder Clark G. Gilbert of the Seventy, which reminded us that we need to start where we are and, together with the Lord, move forward and upward in a positive direction. I could tell that he was still feeling a bit overwhelmed with the next steps, so I asked him to describe his understanding of the scripture “by small and simple things are great things brought to pass.” He went on to describe the concept that by doing small and simple things, great things can happen. I asked him to take a minute and identify two small and simple things he could do to be kind to his companion.

After a few moments, he shared his thoughts. Then I asked him to take a minute and identify two small and simple things he could do to be patient with his companion. He almost immediately shared his two thoughts. It was clear that he had already been pondering this before our meeting. I invited him to take those few items to God in prayer and to ask for confirmation, direction, and inspiration on how to execute his plan with real intent. He agreed. As we concluded, I asked him to provide a brief update in his weekly letter.

As the next few weeks went by, I could see in his weekly letters that things were improving. Not only could I see that improvement in his weekly letters, but I could also see it in the weekly letters of his companion. During our next in-person interview, I saw a night-and-day difference in his countenance and spirit. I asked him, “So, Elder, is it true that ‘charity never faileth?’” He responded with a big smile, “Yes, and by small and simple things are great things brought to pass.”

I walked into sacrament meeting late that Sunday, and as usual sat on the back row. I didn’t know it at the time, but when I walked out of that meeting I would be a different person. It wasn’t just an ordinary meeting—it was the missionary farewell for my brother who’s a year older than I am. He was the fourth one in my family to go on a mission, so it was nothing new to me, but I was closer to Chuck than the others.
Though I’d been raised in the Church, I never really had a desire to go on a mission like my brothers had. My plans after high school graduation were set, and I didn’t see how I could take two years out of my social life, my roofing business, or from my motorcycles to go on a mission.
As the speakers in the meeting started talking, I thought about how much I would miss Chuck. We’d grown up together. In fact, we’d shared the same bedroom until just a year before when he had moved into mom’s sewing room because I wouldn’t keep the room clean. We’d worked together almost every day of our lives since I was six years old, and now we owned a roofing business together. But all of a sudden he’d be gone. In two days he’d be in the MTC learning Spanish, and then on to Spain for two years to teach the gospel.
I left my daydreaming as I heard Chuck’s voice come over the loudspeaker. He was always a joker and started this talk with a joke that had everybody laughing. Then he talked a little about Spain and what his mission would be like. Then for a few seconds everything was quiet and Chuck’s face clouded with emotion. And he said, “I want to talk to my little brother Dean for a few minutes.
“Throughout my life I’ve done everything I could to make my brother proud of me. I’ve always kept the Word of Wisdom and been the best person I could. And as I accept this call to serve the Lord on a mission, I hope that he’ll be proud of me.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. He had been trying to make me proud of him? As I sat there with my girl friend, for the first time since I was a kid tears filled my eyes and I started to cry. And the Holy Ghost bore witness to me of the importance of my brother’s mission.
As Chuck talked, I thought back on our lives. He’d never taken a drink or touched a cigarette. He’d lived a life of purity and honesty unequaled by anyone else I knew. I’d never known him to tell a lie. He’d always lived a Christlike life and been a good example of a member of the true church of Jesus Christ. Then I thought back on my own life and how I’d fallen short of his example. He’d never put me down for my shortcomings, though. Sitting in that sacrament meeting, I made a promise to myself that I would someday make my brother proud of me.
It’s been a year and a half since that meeting, and I have not forgotten the promise I made. I have turned my life around and am now serving a mission for my Heavenly Father—the best decision I have ever made in my life. As I kneel every night in prayer, I thank the Lord for the great examples I have had in my life, like my brother, who have had the courage to live the teachings of the Church and act like the sons and daughters of God that they are. I pray now that I can be that same example to others.

This stone plaque with the photo and narrative of the life of Charles Callis, sits in St Audoen’s park near the centre of Dublin. Elder Callis is the only person born in the Emerald Isle to become a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles in this dispensation. His service in the apostleship lasted from 1933 until his death in 1947.
The plaque tells of some of the events of his early life. The second child of John Callis and Susannah Charlotte Quilliam. At the death of his Father, and while Charles was still a small boy, his mother moved the family to Liverpool, where they became Latter-day Saints. In 1875, the family emigrated and joined the main body of the Church in Utah.
The plaque goes on to describe Charles Callis’ “distinguished professional life, practising law and serving in several political positions, including… city councilman and county attorney in Coalville, Utah.”
However, his formal working life began in the coal mines at age 16, and his later success was due to the determined course of self-education undertaken in his spare time, focusing particularly on the law.
From 1893 he served for two years in the British Mission, spending most of his time as president of the Irish Conference. In 1902 he married Grace Pack, and four years later she accompanied him when he was called to serve in the southern United States. He would serve as mission president there for twenty-five years. The Church was still very unpopular in the southern states at the time, but through his eloquence and knowledge of the law, Callis was able to win great respect for the Church in that region.
Charles Callis testified: “From my earliest recollections to the present time I have always had an abiding and intense love for my Savior. I cannot read the story of His sufferings and crucifixion without shedding tears.”
The memorial plaque in Dublin was dedicated by Elder Neal A. Maxwell in 1989.

Riches were not a part of my childhood. We were a family of five: my father and four siblings. My mother had passed away when I was five years old. My father’s meager income was used to buy our food; the purchase of clothing was put off as long as possible.
One day, somewhat bothered, I came up to my father and said, “Daddy, why don’t you buy me some shoes? Look at these; they’re worn out, and you can see my big toe through the hole in the shoe.”
“We’ll fix that up,” he replied and, with some black polish, gave a shine to my shoes. Later on he told me, “Son, it’s fixed up.”
“No,” I answered, “you can still see my big toe.”
“That can also be fixed,” he told me. He again took the polish and put some on my toe, and before long it shined like my shoes. So it was early on in life I learned that happiness does not depend on money.

Many years later, Florence visited a small branch in the Ghana Accra Mission. Her husband, Christopher Chukwurah, was the mission president there. Florence met some children in the branch who couldn’t always go to school. They weren’t sure what to do with their futures. They reminded Florence of herself as a child. What can I say to help them? Florence prayed silently.
Then she felt a clear prompting. Tell them about your life.
Florence thought about her life. She had worked in hospitals in Nigeria and the United States. She had married a good man, and together they had found The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. She had become a mother. Now she was helping missionaries stay healthy and work hard. Heavenly Father had helped her become a nurse. He had helped her do so much more than she had imagined was possible. He could do the same for these children.
Florence looked at the children and smiled. “You know those white caps that nurses wear? I saw a cap like that and decided to become a nurse …”
Florence Chukwurah (born 1946) has worked as a nurse in Nigeria and the United States. She and her husband joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and served together in the Ghana Accra Mission. While talking about getting an education, Florence said, “I decided to be serious with my schoolwork. I made up my mind to work hard.”

Nearly 400 young people from three stakes in Ohio recently made their way through an Ohio 4-H camp, leaving fresh paint and new structures as they went.

“These young people from the Mormon church have completed in one day what it would normally take a year-and-a-half to do,” said camp director Conn Drake.

Teams of youth installed insulation, hung drywall, and painted several buildings. They also constructed a large picnic shelter, refurbished a miniature golf course, built 25 picnic tables, ten park benches, nesting boxes, birdhouses, and wooden signs. Trails were improved and created, and they built a baseball diamond complete with backstop.

“Lisa, you should take seminary,” Ashley mentioned casually. Before us were folders displaying lists of class choices for the next school year, when we were starting high school.
I looked vacantly at my friend, finally managing a smile. I hated to tell her, but seminary was the furthest thing from my mind. I was then a less-active member of the Church, as I had been for most of my life. Over the years, I had grown vaguely aware of the gospel but hadn’t received a strong testimony of its truthfulness.
As I went home after school that day, the prospect of seminary began to intrigue me. Ashley, as well as my other friends, all seemed very excited to become a part of it. I had a desire to do what my friends were doing, even if I didn’t understand what they were doing or why they were doing it. After discussing my plan with my parents and getting their permission, I decided to take seminary my first year of high school.
I didn’t know what a profound impact that simple act would have on my life. My first year of seminary changed my life as I began to see myself and others as children of God, loved and cherished. I began going to church on Sundays, despite my family’s inactivity.
I have now finished high school, but I will always be grateful for seminary. During that hour each day, I had my prayers answered and my testimony strengthened. Seminary helped me prepare for a temple marriage and encouraged me to strive to be a better person.
I know that God cares for each of us. I know that seminary is a blessing that helped me build on a firm foundation in Jesus Christ. I would encourage you to enroll in seminary. It will change your life too.