Trusting in the Lord Through a Lifetime

This talk was given at the 2019 stake women's conference.

Image from LDS.org. Used with permission.

by Jannelle L. LaFontaine 

Prayer and personal revelation are a very private and sacred part of our lives. Even on a daily basis, we are engaged in these covenant privileges. In Doctrine and Covenants 90:24 we are taught to search, pray, believe, walk uprightly, and remember our covenants.

I would like to share a story with you that I believe exemplifies these principles, especially prayer and personal revelation.

In a small rural farming community in Aroostook County, Maine, it was 1956. One afternoon, two young missionaries from Utah knocked on the door of Bob and Marian and asked if they knew anything about the Mormon church. Their answer was no, and thus began their conversion. Bob was a very quiet man and Marian was incredibly curious. She asked a lot of questions, and the answers rang true to both of their hearts. They were baptized. That was that!

I Learned a Lot About Myself

Enjoy these stories of how service has changed people's lives.

by Jami Jensen
Most of our stories of service are pretty personal, and no one in our family felt completely comfortable in sharing. I do, however, have a favorite service story that had nothing to do with me. It had everything to do with a dear friend of mine, who years ago shared the events with me. I do not have their permission, so I will not use their names. 

from LDS.org, used with permission

Quite a few years ago, an older gentleman in our neighborhood was diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer. The doctors did everything they could, but the cancer was taking over. This man spent a considerable amount of time in the hospital. My friend was aware that this man's wedding anniversary was coming up and that he would still be in the hospital. 

Realizing that this man would be unable to purchase a gift for his wife, my friend arrived at the hospital before his wife got there. She had with her a beautiful bouquet of flowers. She gave them to the man so that he would have a gift for his wife when she arrived, and then quietly slipped away and went home. When the man's wife came to the hospital, he presented her with the flowers. It was the last anniversary that they spent together on this life. 

This act of service went beyond the norm and was so well thought through. I believe my friend actually put herself in the situation of this sweet couple and carried out love as the Savior would love. 

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by Kevin and Kristy Baron
Once a week, we have family night over the phone with our son, daughter-in-law, and grandchildren who live in California. For family night, we use the gospel art book which has pictures and scriptures. We purchased a book for everyone, so everyone has their own copy. Each person has the opportunity to present a lesson. We have enjoyed hearing our 10- and 8-year-old grandsons and 6-year-old granddaughter give the lessons and share their testimonies. This experience has been a blessing in our lives.

I Drew on My Daughter's Strength

by Teresa Meldrum
The last Thursday before school got out, I found out that I had cancer. The following Thursday I found out that my mother had five brain tumors and was expected to live only four to eight weeks longer. She would require 24-hour care.

My brother had been directed by the Lord to move his family here from another state without knowing why he was to be here. He and his family got here three days before Mom’s tumors were found. We have a large family, and each one of the married couples came to stay with Mom for two days at a time. It made it possible for Mom to stay in her own home until the very end of her life.

I was not physically strong enough to do what my other siblings and their spouses did even though I had the greatest desire to be with my mother. Almost every day of that three-month summer, my 13-year-old daughter and I would spend as much time at my mom’s home as possible.

We Didn't Cry or Complain

by Verna Nichols Sargent
When my husband was released as the bishop of our ward in Texas, he, with some of his associates, decided to open a mine in Mexico. We decided that I would take our five teenagers and three younger children to live in a home that my father had sold to us in Arizona.

For ten years my husband dedicated his time to the success of that mine. Since it was located in a primitive jungle, he was able to call home only once a week, and we had no letters due to circumstances. We were happy when he came home for our daughter's weddings, our sons' priesthood ordinations and sports activities, as well as special business trips.

Even though we were apart, we were able to serve in the church. He served in a branch in Mexico. I served in the Relief Society presidency in our Arizona ward. We were blessed in our home as our family faithfully held our family home evenings and family prayer.

The mine had great success; however, after ten years, the price of silver dropped so far that he had to leave the mine with its 200 workers, and he walked away with nothing but his pickup truck. I knew we had both done the best we could, and I was just glad to have my husband back.

They Jumped at the Chance to Help Us

by Joanne Farr
My son was born with a genetic disorder called Prader-Willi Syndrome, but we did not know this is what he had until he was 12. For many years after his traumatic birth we sought help and answers for behavior, food, and learning issues. When we finally got a diagnosis the summer he was 12, we were relieved to finally have answers but also struggled with grief that comes from knowing that aspects of his condition would likely not be overcome in this life.

Our family was not functioning very well at this time. My two younger boys, ages 9 and 6, were struggling with the effect of my son’s behavior on the family. We were constantly dealing with his behavior problems at school and home that were exhausting and scary for all of us.

 The demands on my patience, time, mental and physical energy and spiritual strength were severely taxed and I felt often that my reserve of strength was quickly drying up. I was constantly at “wit’s end” and felt I was drowning under the weight of all the new knowledge about PWS and the daily demands of the family.

It was extremely hard to ask for help from others because I just didn’t know where to start. I didn't know who to ask or what to ask for, and the prospect of educating them on my son’s needs was completely overwhelming. I didn’t know who could be trusted to care for him, not get frustrated by him and not judge us.

At this time I was serving in the Primary presidency, and the president took the time to really find out what was going on in my life. She started inviting my son over to spend time with their family to give me much needed breaks. Her help was invaluable, and I needed someone close who could see what was going on before I could trust them to help out.

School issues continued to escalate, ultimately resulting in a period of three weeks when he was out of school. My friend, the Primary president, contacted the bishop, who then met with us to find out the scope of what we were dealing with on a daily basis as well as what our immediate needs were in regards to him being out of school. He suggested that we get a list of people in the ward to help out a few days a week to give us a break on an ongoing basis.

My husband's and my first response was "no way." I felt that I couldn’t ask this of others, and my husband admitted our pride was getting in the way. We did not want others to know the difficult parts of his condition. At the same time, I acknowledged to the bishop that I didn’t know what else I was going to do. He assured us it would be a blessing to the members of the ward. I believed and trusted our bishop. The Spirit was present and was beginning to open our hearts enough to let other people into our lives. We finally agreed to let the ward help, but it was still a very scary step to take.

Abbie's Journey

by Aimee Tarbet
I felt compelled to share my testimony after the overwhelming support for my family during my daughter's third open heart surgery in the summer of 2011.  Not only did the neighborhood bring in meals and help watch our two older boys, they also held a ward fast for Abbie.

I am Abbie’s mom, and I wanted to take the opportunity to thank you all for the outpouring of love and support for Abbie and our family. I want to share that I have a strong testimony that Jesus Christ is our Savior and that God has a plan for each of us.

Please allow me to share a little about Abbie's journey. Being Abbie's mom is truly a blessing, not a trial.  I can say that even after 13 days and nights at the children's hospital with a very angry four year old.

When Abbie was born, her journey ahead felt like a trial.  She was born on Valentine's Day 2007 with Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome, the medical term for half a heart.  I was not prenatally diagnosed, so it was a big shock when she was 18 hours old and was taken from me and rushed to a local children's hospital.  She had her first open heart surgery at twelve days old, the first of three corrective surgeries that doctors believed would sustain her until her heart transplant in early adulthood.

Abbie in 2012

She spent the first six weeks of life in the hospital, intubated during the critical weeks when babies learn to eat.  When we brought her home at six weeks old, on several medications and a feeding tube, I was exhausted and lost.  I had a two-year-old and a very sick baby, and by doctor's orders was housebound for at least three months, not able to leave the house with her except to the doctor.  I landed myself in the hospital with a septic kidney infection, after weeks of neglecting my own care, just trying to survive.  My mom flew to Seattle, where I lived then, to help.

I KNEW this was NOT God's plan for me or Abbie.  He had gotten it all wrong.  I KNEW He had picked the wrong mom.  I was certain I did NOT have the strength to persevere on the long road ahead that had been so grimly laid out by the medical professionals.  I had even been reminded several times that statistically I should never expect my daughter to outlive me.

I was in a world of self pity and asked myself so many times--Why me?  Why her? I told my mom that I was going to quit.  I knew I couldn't do it, this was not my life.  She replied very simply, "God gave her to you for a reason.  She only has one mom and you are it."  I protested again, "I do not feel like God gave her to me.  I feel like my daughter is on temporary loan to me and could be taken away at any moment."  She wisely said, "All parents should live as if their children are on temporary loan to them because none of us know God's plan."

"Every Trial Is Necessary for Your Salvation"

by Patty Denhalter

As I begin to share my experiences, joys, love, trials, and testimony, I am so grateful for the trust Heavenly Father has given me, as His daughter. For every joy and happiness I have experienced and the many trials I have gone through, I am thankful. Most of them have been difficult and emotional from early in my life to now, as I am growing older.

But everything is worth it for me to be able to once again live with my Heavenly Father and my eternal family, and to be with and see my sweet daughter and tender son again. What joy lies ahead as I try to be obedient to the commandments of our Heavenly Father.

I often think about Mary, Jesus’ earthly mother, and how she raised her perfect son and later watched him suffer and die. I in no way compare myself or my son Dennie to her or our Savior, but I can feel her anguish as she watched her Son in so much pain and suffering, prayed for and comforted Him, and finally watched Him die. I feel a small, small part of what she suffered and maybe felt.

I love her and admire her strength. Her example has helped me through this trial. My testimony has grown so much and in so many different ways over the years because of what Heavenly Father has let me experience. I have a stronger testimony than I have ever had because of my life and the happiness and trials I have been given. I will be forever grateful.