www.massimo.bigsmart.com
My daughter, Kathleen, was 15... too young to seriously date but she
had a boyfriend. One evening, when I was leaving to pick up my son,
Paul, from baseball practice, she asked if she could just go with her
boyfriend to pick up his little brother at a friend's house. She said
they would come right back. I said, "Alright, just make sure you wear
your seat belt, and come right home."
It was my father's birthday and my youngest daughter, Therese, was
already at my father's house waiting for us to come over with the cake
I had yet to pick up at the store. I left to pick Paul up at school, but
decided to take the highway, rather than the shortcut along the back
roads. After leaving the school, Paul and I ran in the store for the
cake and some last minute goodies. As we were getting into the car,
we heard and saw paramedics, fire trucks, three ambulances
and of course a multitude of police cars.
I got a sick feeling in my stomach and said to Paul, "Somebody needs
our prayers, quick." I wondered if there was a fire or a bad car accident.
At one of the intersections I had to stop to let more emergency vehicles
through, and prayed, "Lord, those people need you right now, go to them
and place your protective hand over them."
We stopped at my parents to drop off the food, before going home to
pick up Kathleen, but my father met me at the car and told us to
postpone the party because Therese had fallen asleep.
"Which way did you go to the school?" he asked, "Because there was a
bad accident on the back road, I heard someone was killed. It happened
just about the time you had to pick up Paul at the school and I know you
always go that way. I was so happy to see you pull in, I had a gut feeling
it
was you.
As Paul and I drove the short distance home, I could see our house was
dark and when Kathleen is home alone, she always burned every light.
As I turned off the ignition, tears fell, "It was Kathleen," I told Paul,
"I know it." I ran in the house and checked our answering machine,
no one had called. I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that someone
would have called by now. "Paranoid," that's what Kathleen always
called me, and that's what I was telling myself, "Your just paranoid!"
Then, the phone rang. It was her friend's mother, who worked in the
Emergency room of our local hospital. She only told me that the three
of themwere in an accident and were being transported to the hospital.
I didn't call my husband at work, nor my parents. Paul and I just left
for the hospital. As I pulled into the parking lot, one of the paramedics,
someone we have known for years, met us at our car. "I'm sorry,
I'm so sorry," he said with tears streaming down his face.
The next thing I remember after was talking to the doctor in the
hallway of the ER. He asked me if I believed in God, and with that my
knees gave way. "No," he said, "you don't understand, do you believe in
divine intervention?"
I stammered, a weak, "Yes." Not having a clue what he was talking
about. He smiled at me and asked, "Do you know what shirt your daughter
is wearing, tonight?"
Shaking my head no, he told me to go down the hall and look.
"Your daughter is blessed with angels and so are you. From what the
emergency personnel told me, there is no way that your daughter
should be alive, let alone only have a few scratches. "
Kathleen was laying on a cart, waiting for more x-rays. When I got to
her, we both sobbed. As I was hugging her I had the urge to check her
shirt, unzipping her jacket. I read the words, "Jesus Saves." I knew
then, what the doctor had meant.
All three were treated and released. On the way home that night,
Kathleen told this story:
"It was really weird, about a quarter of a mile before the accident,
I said, 'Wait, we forgot to put our seat belts on, my Mother will kill me.'
Then a car was coming towards us in our lane, he swerved, and I
knew we got hit on the passenger side of the car, where I was sitting.
We got hit a total of three times because the car kept spinning in a
circle. I felt his little brother's hand on my shoulder, holding me
tightly in place. "But Mom, after it was all over, I could still feel the
hand on my shoulder.
I looked and his little brother had flown out the back window of the
car, as we later found out, on the first spin.
"It was an angel, Mom, I know it!"
I knew it too, especially when we went the next day to look at the car,
it had been split in half, right underneath my daughters seat. The driver of
the other car, witnesses said, was traveling 90-95 miles per hour and the
point of impact at that speed was directly at Kathleen's door. The police
report stated that the car door was found fifty feet away from the accident
scene, with theseat belt attached.
So when the door broke loose, "the hand" was the only thing that saved
my daughter's life. The Lord, knew, long before I did that my child was in
trouble, and I will always praise Him for saving her life and restoring
mine.
I have been meaning to write this story for the past couple years.
Kathleen just turned 21. While I was writing this I smiled and cried,
but it's all true.
-- Barbara
Here is another experience to share on your page of an experience I
had when I was Young Women's President in 1990 and 1991. These
experiences happened on the same day a year apart. If that doesn't make
you think. Here goes:
"You know that when you are called to work with the youth that
there are many lessons learned in the experience of being a leader over
those sweet spirits. In those lessons that we learn are some profound
thoughts gained.
I was working with a young girl that had some abuse issues to deal
with and this greatly tugged at my heart strings. Having been there
myself I totally had empathy for her situation. In this young girl's
situation there were many issues to deal with, her self esteem,
forgiveness, how others treated her and carrying that knowledge within
herself that her life had changed to a dimension she would come to know
would soon change her life forever. As well as dealing with the anger
and striving to understand the experience having happened to her.
I spent long hours praying what could I do to show this young sister
in suffering how much she was valued by her Heavenly Father. One day I
wrote her a letter sharing some scriptures and ones that I had hoped
would comfort her. Those inspirations came to me on November 11, 1990
and it calmed my heart for awhile. But as I watch this young sister
struggle and felt for her pain I further had her on my mind the whole
year through. And again on the same day after I had retired to bed.
And being woke out of a sound sleep, not being able to get back to sleep
this sister was on my mind. I spent time crying and praying and
wondering what could I tell her, how could I help to lift the pain, how
could I convey to her how much she indeed was valued. Being in the dark
a thought, that I know was not my own but sent by inspiration came to my
mind and this was the thought: "The nothing I was in the eyes of others
was the something I was in the eyes of God." I wrote it down on a bill
on my dresser and then reread it in the morning. I was astonished at
the words and at the time it had been given, being a year later to the
date that I had written her a letter with intention of comfort.
I gave it to this young sister to have to remind her of her value.
And it indeed reminds us each of our value. How small our minds are
sometimes when we view things in one way and in other ways Heavenly
Father has a view of us in a different perspective than our own.
It was a humbling experience and yet there was a lesson in it as
well for myself. And the thankfulness that I experienced in my heart
for the value that Heavenly Father does place on us and grants us that
grace how small we may be viewed in this life by others.
In sharing this thought with you I hope you can feel the power of
the message, the value that we are as we forge on in striving to be
valiant members of this church.
I share this with you with the heartprints of my testimony that He
indeed does value us."
Sophia
Massimo's spiritual experiences
My first 2 years in the Church was really filled with plenty of wonderful spiritual
experiences. The church in Italy was at it's beginnings, and the Lord was helping each one
of us in unbelievable ways. I am going to make an account of the most important facts that
were the base of my spirituality. After 10 months I was called to be a branch president.
(I was the only man, this was the main and only reason) In my personal opinion, this is
the best calling to learn about love. I was a young man, only 27 years old. I had no
church background, no knowledge, no experience at all. I was depending directly on the
Lord, and I received so many teachings that I can't count them. My district president was
100 miles away from me and my first counselor was an missionary elder, and this was his
first experience too. The new converts, like me, had many troubles to face. Italy is a
very challenging place to accept the Gospel. Tradition, culture, and your entire
background rebel against you so strong that you need a pretty strong testimony to remain
faithful. During the first 10 months I was a simple member, but when I became branch
president and I had to take care of everybody. The job was not easy. In having interviews
with my brothers and sisters I was discovering how weak they were. I was getting upset
instead of being humble and lovely. Was I perfect? I remember very well, in this
particular emotional state I went to pray thinking that at least I was the best. While I
was praying in those feelings the voice of the Lord came to me: "I didn't call you to
judge your brothers and sisters, I called you to help them and you can do that only in a
way: loving them. If you think to be above them, go down and help them to reach the top of
the mountain. They don't need to be yelled at, if you yell to them it means you don't love
them. If you will have patience and try to be helpful, I promise to you they will love you
and they will follow you and they will do that because of the love not for fear."
It was a good lesson.
Another one was with my little son (At that time) Claudio. He was a very lively boy,
sometimes he made me crazy. Once I got upset with him and I told him:" I won't speak
you anymore, it is useless! You don't listen to me." After a while I went to pray. I
knelt and I begun to offer my feelings to the Lord. I felt that He was upset with me, but
I didn't pay attention to this, I had many things to ask Him. Anytime I started my
questions I could see in my mind the scene when I was rebuking my son, and the words I
told him. For 3 times I tried to avoid this vision, but at the end I stopped my prayer and
I was silent. Then the voice of the Lord came to me: "If I did like you are doing
with your son, from how long should I have finished to talk to you?" Well I had to go
to take my son in my arms. I was so sorry.
Another beautiful experience happened 10 years ago. I cannot explain the reason why I
decided to leave the church. Maybe it was because it is too personal and involves other
people, but I can explain what happened. I was always astonished why people like Oliver
Cowdery, Martin Harris and David Whitmer left the church after they had the vision of the
golden plates and the angel. I thought, "It can't happen to me". The Lord gave
me a dream soon after I was baptized, in which He told me that it could happen. I didn't
pay a lot attention, but after 15 years it occurred. I knew the church was true, no doubt
at all. Something happened, like in the dream I had. I made my decision. I called my
branch president, my quorum president, the district leader of the missionaries and I told
them my decision: "I will pay my tithing, I will keep the commandments, but I won't
come in the church." Anyway, I promised to continue to study the scriptures and keep
my prayers. After this I went to pray to the Lord and I told Him "Please forgive me,
I know that you disagree with my decision, but please, I have to do this, I will take my
responsibilities before you." The Lord told me: "Don't worry I can't push anyone
to do something different from his will, it is contrary to the plan we have chosen to
support." I felt Him very sad anyway. My decision was taken. It was a Sunday. The
next Wednesday I was reading the Book of Mormon in third Nephi 11:10 "Behold I am
Jesus Christ, whom the prophet testified shall come into the world"
I was thinking, "sure He was presenting Himself."
"And Behold I am the Light and the life of the World: and I HAVE DRUNK OUT THAT
BITTER CUP WHICH THE FATHER HATH GIVEN TO ME......... I HAVE SUFFERED THE WILL OF THE
FATHER IN ALL THINGS FROM THE BEGINNING." While I was reading this part of the verse,
I really felt what He meant, and His voice came to me clearly: "Many times in my life
I did things that I would have preferred not to do them, but I did them to accomplish the
will of the Father. Do you remember my prayer in the Gethsemane? Please if you want take
away this cup. Do you remember my words in D&C regarding this, it was a real terrible
agony, it was not a pleasure and I fear it so much and when I was asking to take away the
cup I was sincere. See now the consequences, I am like the Father, I won the world, I am
God, it was well worth to do, do you agree? Nobody has a different choice. That was the
path for me and it is the right path for everybody, so think about your choice and the
consequences. You are building your eternity right here, right now, nobody is responsible
for that only you. Think about it."
Well the next Sunday it was fast Sunday and I was asking to be forgiven from everybody,
only the leaders understood what was going on. The church is true and I am so grateful
that the Lord didn't abandon me, notwithstanding I was making the wrong decision and he
gave me another proof of His love and mercy.
Anonymous
I read this online from a friend who heard this from a guest speaker to
her ward; she related an experience her brother had on his mission that
exemplifies the Lord's love for each one of us. Her brother has arthritis in both
knees, and her parents feared sending him to his mission in Helsinki, Finland. they knew
the cold would challenge him physically, and worried constantly. One foggy, cold morning,
the young missionary was tracting with his companion when he heard a shout from the spirit
in his ear, "RUN!" He and his companion took off running, neither of them even
taking the time to glance at one another, just pumping their legs for all they were worth,
straight ahead. They felt they should run as fast as possible toward the house at the end
of the street. When they reached the steps of the house, a man staggered out the door and
fell into their arms, weeping so hard they had to carry him into the house. When they
managed to calm him down, he told them this story. That day was the worst he had ever had
in his life. He had lost his job, his wife had left him, and he had n nothing left to live
for. He made up his mind to kill himself. Just before he put the gun to
his head, he experienced a bout of curiosity. He had been an
agnostic all his life, and suddenly he wondered if there was a God. He
knelt painfully and prayed for the first time in his life. He asked God, if He were indeed
there, to send someone to help him. He waited a moment, and no one came, so he reached for
the gun again. At that moment, he had a strong urge to look out the window. He rose and
looked down the street, and there were two young men, ties and coats flapping, racing as
fast as they could, straight for his home...messengers of God.
This story made me think of all the times I've let my "arthritis" keep me from
listening to the spirit. How wonderful that this young man didn't.
I felt I just needed to share this...how wonderful to be that in tune with
the spirit... I Pray that I may become more so each day.
This story is
true and has to do with listening to the Holy Ghost and His promptings. "
Awhile back about 1981 or so, I am recollecting it was then. I was on my way to do my
usual grocery shopping. I had my oldest son, John, with me being about the age of 3 or 4
then. He was excited to go with mom and help me, he knew he would get a treat at the end.
On my usual route I stop at particular places in order because of locations. I have
my usual stops because of the buys that I can get.
On my way in to the area where I would normally go, the place where I
would normally stop at first something told me to stop there first! I
am thinking that is crazy, this is my last stop. But I felt the impression that I should
do it. So I made my left hand turn into the parking lot of that store and upon coming to a
stop to park my car, my son's door fell open and he started to fall out of the car. It was
then that I realized why I was prompted to make that stop. Had ignored that impression I
would have turned into a much busier intersection and it could have been an awful
situation had he fallen out at that intersection. He most likely would have been hit by
another car. Now you must realize that it was before in our state we had
requirements on seatbelt laws and such. I thought he was belted in but he wasn't. It
was a lesson for me to pay attention to those promptings and heeding them, and what could
have been an awful situation was thwarted by my paying attention to that. And I know that
it was the Holy Ghost giving me protection and warning. I know that I was being watched
over on that day."
Sophia
Ron Cappelli
We lived in St. Louis, Missouri for a couple of years and my son had
become close friends to several of the youth in our ward. When we moved from there to
Richmond, Virginia, it was hard for him to say goodby to those friends. Even after we had
settled into a new ward and had made friends there, he still wanted to go back and visit
his "old" friends.
When my son turned seventeen years old in the summer, we purchased him a 1982 Dodge. We
did this because he had a construction job that took him to different sites almost every
other day. Although I felt he was a good driver, within the first three months he had two
minor fender-bender accidents and two speeding tickets. One was because he was late
getting back home and was rushing to meet Dad's deadline.
In October he came to me and asked if I would allow him to drive to St. Louis to see his
friends during the Christmas school vacation. Not only is it an 850 mile drive one way,
but part of it is through the roughed mountains of West Virginia. I didn't think he had
the skills, nor the money, nor a car trustworthy to make the trip there and back. I also
had concerns that once out there, he might have the tendency to want to "show
off" a little. Plus, I was concerned about him having a lot of unsupervised freedom
to go and do whatever HE wanted. For these reasons I told him my answer was
"no."
Obviously, he objected to all my concerns, and needless to say, the
conversation was a long one. I quickly found myself trying to reason
with someone who's mind was already made up. As such I ended up having to defend each of
my reasons. When I pointed out that his driving record wasn't so good, he countered that
he had faith that the Lord would protect him. I immediately asked him how come the Lord
didn't help him from having two accidents and two speeding tickets. He said that it was
because the Lord was teaching him to trust in Him. He then explained how things could have
been worse, but how everything had worked out well for him in all four cases. "You
see, dad," he reasoned, "the Lord was teaching me that if I just trust in him,
everything works out fine." He had me on that argument.
I went over the other points of concern and he countered everyone of
them with equal reasoning. He had already saved up enough money for the trip. We had
traveled back and forth along that route every Christmas ourselves, so he knew the road
conditions. For over four months his car hadn't had one mechanical problem, and as far as
his unsupervised behavior was concerned, I got the typical, "Don't you trust me to do
what's right?" answer.
I could see I wasn't making any headway on this argument, but I still
didn't feel comfortable letting him go. I didn't want to seem
hard-headed and irrational by simply asserting my authority. That would have only angered
him and "proven" - in his mind - that he was right and that I was just being
unreasonable. Finally, to end the discussion, I told him I would pray about the matter and
see what the Lord wanted me to do. But he was skeptical of this. He was sure that I was
already deadset against him going and therefore he felt that the "Lord's answer"
would actually be "my answer."
That night, during my evening prayers, I asked God to help me know what to say to my son.
I sincerely prayed that His will be done, not mine. If it was all right in God's eyes for
my son to make the trip, I needed to have that confirmed to me. On the other hand, if the
answer to my son's request was "no" then I needed an answer that would satisfy
him, although, I could not imagine any negative answer on my part appeasing him. On the
other hand, if the answer was "yes," then it would seem that he had been right
all along and that I had indeed been treating him like a child rather than the adult he
thought he was. I felt like I was in a no-win situation.
The next morning as I drove to work, I again contemplated my dilemma and once again prayed
to the Lord for help. Suddenly, I heard a voice inside me say, "Tell him to trust in
the Lord." Immediately, I knew I had my answer.
That night I sat down with my son and told him I had prayed to the Lord and he had told me
what to do. I could see the look of suspicion in his eyes. Then I reminded him of what he
had said about why he had the accidents and the speeding tickets. He remembered it well.
The Lord was teaching him to trust in God. Then I said, "Concerning your trip to St.
Louis, the Lord told me to tell you to put your trust in Him. If things work out so that
you end up going, then you'll know it was suppose to happen. If things don't work out and
you end up spending Christmas here, then you'll know that's the Lord's will."
He thought about that for a few seconds and then said, "I can accept
that."
I was totally amazed by his reaction. I was all set to defend myself,
but, instead, suddenly I was no longer the "bad guy." In addition to
that, I no longer had to worry about ruining my relationship with my son because of my
concerns.
In early December my son went to traffic court and was given a
restricted license because of his speeding tickets. That meant he could
only drive back and forth from home to school or his job. It also meant
that he couldn't drive out of the state of Virginia, thereby preventing
him from going to St. Louis on his own.
Later that month we all spent an enjoyable Christmas together. I felt
better knowing my son wasn't somewhere hundreds of miles away, and at the same time, my
son he didn't hold any resentment toward me or God for not being able to realize his
dream.
The Lord had indeed answered my prayer fully and completely.
THE LIST
He was in the first third grade class I taught at Saint Mary's School
in Morris, Minn. All 34 of my students were dear to me, but Mark Eklund was
one in a million. Very neat in appearance, but had that happy-to-be-alive attitude that
made even his occasional mischievousness delightful. Mark talked incessantly. I had to
remind him again and again that talking without permission was not acceptable. What
impressed me so much, though, was his sincere response every time I had to correct him for
misbehaving "Thank
you for correcting me, Sister!" I didn't know what to make of it at
first, but before long I became accustomed to hearing it many times a
day. One morning my patience was growing thin when Mark talked once too often, and
then I made a novice-teacher's mistake. I looked at him and said, "If you say one
more word, I am going to tape your mouth shut!" It wasn't ten seconds later when
Chuck blurted out, "Mark is talking again." I hadn't asked any of the students
to help me watch Mark, but since I had stated the punishment in front of the class, I had
to act on it. I remember the scene as if it had occurred this morning. I walked to my
desk, very deliberately opened my drawer and took out a roll of masking tape. Without
saying a word, I proceeded to Mark's desk, tore off two pieces of tape and made a big X
with them over his mouth. I then returned to the front of the room. As
I glanced at Mark to see how he was doing he winked at me. That did
it! I started laughing. The class cheered as I walked back to Mark's desk, removed the
tape and shrugged my shoulders. His first words were, "Thank you for correcting me,
Sister." At the end of the year I was asked to teach junior-high math. The years flew
by, and before I knew it Mark was in my classroom again. He was more handsome than ever
and just as polite. Since he had to listen carefully to my instructions in the "new
math," he did not talk as much in ninth grade as he had in the third. One Friday,
things just didn't feel right. We had worked hard on a new concept all week, and I sensed
that the students were frowning, frustrated with themselves - and edgy with one another. I
had to stop this crankiness before it got out of hand. So I asked them to list the names
of the other students in the room on two sheets of
paper, leaving a space between each name. Then I told them to think
of the nicest thing they could say about each of their classmates and write it down.
It took the remainder of the class period to finish the assignment, and as the
students left the room, each one handed me the papers. Charlie smiled. Mark said,
"Thank you for teaching me, Sister. Have a good weekend." That Saturday, I
wrote down the name of each student on a separate sheet of paper, and I listed what
everyone else had said about that individual. On Monday I gave each student his or
her list. Before long, the entire class was smiling. "Really?" I heard
whispered. "I never knew that meant anything to anyone!" "I didn't know
others liked me so much!" No one ever mentioned those papers in class again. I
never knew if they discussed them after class or with their parents, but it didn't matter.
The exercise had accomplished its purpose. The students were happy with themselves
and one another again. That group of students moved on. Several years later, after I
returned from vacation, my parents met me at the airport. As we were driving home, Mother
asked me the usual questions about the trip - the weather, my experiences in general.
There was a light lull in the conversation. Mother gave Dad a side-ways glance and simply
says, "Dad?" My father cleared his throat as he usually did before
something important. "The Eklunds called last night," he began.
"Really?" I said. "I haven't heard from them in years. I wonder how Mark
is." Dad responded quietly. "Mark was killed in Vietnam," he said.
"The funeral is tomorrow, and his parents would like it if you could attend." To
this day I can still point to the exact spot on I-494 where Dad told me about Mark.
I had never seen a serviceman in a military coffin before. Mark looked so handsome, so
mature. All I could think at that moment was, Mark, I would give all the
masking tape in the world if only you would talk to me. The church
was packed with Mark's friends. Chuck's sister sang "The Battle Hymn of the
Republic." Why did it have to rain on the day of the funeral? It was difficult enough
at the graveside. The pastor said the usual prayers, and the bugler played taps. One by
one those who loved Mark took a last walk by the coffin and sprinkled it with holy water.
I was the last one to bless the coffin. As I stood there, one of the soldiers who had
acted as pallbearer came up to me. "Were you Mark's math teacher?" he asked. I
nodded as I continued to stare at the coffin. "Mark talked about you a lot," he
said. After the funeral, most of Mark's former classmates headed to Chuck's farmhouse for
lunch. Mark's mother and father were there, obviously waiting for me.
"We want to show you something," his father said, taking a wallet out of his
pocket. "They found this on Mark when he was killed. We thought you might recognize
it." Opening the billfold, he carefully removed two worn pieces of notebook
paper that had obviously been taped, folded and refolded many times. I knew without
looking that the papers were the ones on which I had listed all the good things each of
Mark's classmates had said about him. "Thank you so much for doing that" Mark's
mother said. "As you can see, Mark treasured it."
Mark's classmates started to gather around us. Charlie smiled rather
sheepishly and said, "I still have my list. It's in the top drawer of my
desk at home." Chuck's wife said, "Chuck asked me to put this in our
wedding album." "I have mine too," Marilyn said. "It's in my
diary."
Then Vicki, another classmate, reached into her pocketbook, took out her wallet and showed
her worn and frazzled list to the group. "I carry this with me at all times,"
Vicki said without batting an eyelash. "I think we all saved our lists."That's
when I finally sat down and cried. I cried for Mark and for all his friends who would
never see him again.
THE END
Written by: Sister Helen P. Mrosia
The purpose of this letter is to encourage everyone to compliment the
people you love and care about. We often tend to forget the importance of showing our
affections and love. Sometimes the smallest of things could mean the most to another. I am
asking you, to please send this letter around and spread the message and encouragement, to
express your love and caring by complimenting and being open with communication. The
density Beginning with my earliest memories as a child, there have been numerous times
when I have needed help, have prayed, and have received what I asked for. This gave me a
fairly early testimony of the power of prayer and a Heavenly Father that listens.
I have always been interested in my Family History, and have been active in research since
I was around 13/14. There have been times when I know that I have been directly guided to
the information I seek. The most notable time was when I was first collecting information
from research already done. I was looking for a family group record in the archive
section, and was not finding a chart that I knew should
be there. I looked and I looked, but could not find the record. Disappointed, I finally
decided to move on. As I was flipping the pages in groups to shut the book, one of the
flips I made exposed the very sheet I was looking for, completely out of order. That
experience and the other helps I have received has given me a firm testimony of family
research and temple work.
There have been times when I have known before it was announced, who was going to be a new
local leader. The one I remember the best, occurred two years ago when they made us a
Stake. I knew on the day they made us a stake, who our Patriarch was going to be. Several
months later when he was called, it confirmed what I had already known. Through these
experiences, I gained a testimony of the reality
of revelation and of the men called to preside over us.
A testimony of the power of the Priesthood came with my 1st and 3rd children, both of
which had problems after birth. The first became very Jaundiced, and I believe that the
blessing I gave her, shortend her extended stay in the hospital. My third child, also a
daughter, stopped breathing and turned blue. A blessing prevented it from occurring again
and they never did figure out why she stopped breathing in the first place. There have
been other blessings too that have seen immediate
results. Probably my most dramatic event occurred a year ago last august while we
were on vacation. We went to Salt Lake to visit family there, and then went north to
southern Alberta, Canada for a family reunion. After traveling the hundreds of miles at
high speeds on the freeway (but within the speed limits), we arrived at my cousin's
home. As we pulled up in front of his house we heard a clunk. On further examination, it
was found that the bolt holding the upper ball joint on the front passenger side wheel had
broken off. There was absolutely no reason for it to break at that point as there was no
chuck hole or anything there to jar it. It just fell off. If it had fallen off while
traveling, there is no dought that I would have lost control of the car, and most likely
we would have all been killed. I know beyond a shadow of dought that the break took place
somewhere along the road, and that it was literally held together by the power of God
until such time as we were safe from harm. This further strengthened my testimony of
prayer, and the power of the Lord to protect us from harm.
These are a few of the events which have shaped my testimony.
I have a couple of experiences that have solidified my testimony, and they all happened
in the same week. A week before I went through the temple, I had dreams about what I would
do inside the temple. I didn't know anything about the temple, but in my dreams I saw
specific rooms and stuff. The day came for me to go, and as I was about to walk through
the gate to go in, I heard a voice behind me say "don't go in there.". I looked
around and no one was in there. I heard the voice in my head, so I knew it wasn't the holy
ghost, but someone else who didn't want me to go and receive my endowments. Afterwards I
knew why. I had never felt the spirit so strong in my life. After we left the temple, I
literally felt like I was glowing. I felt like I could light up
a dark room. That was a definite tangible experience for me that confirmed that God lives
and that this is His church. The next day I got my patriarchal blessing, and that just
added to it. I'm very grateful to be a part of this church, and it makes me feel great to
know that there are others who love it, and receive the same blessings I do from being
part of it.
Kelly alias Moroni.
www.massimo.bigsmart.com
