Ye Receive No Witness Until After the Trial of Your Faith by Ayden Overson

My attitude for Trek before it began was very indifferent. I knew it would be spiritually strengthening, but I knew it would be hard, too. I felt no burning passion to share the experiences of my ancestors. It wasn't long into the pulling that I began to feel the true desire and faith of the pioneers. Pulling a handcart is a hard, frustrating task. The smallest rock hitting a wheel just right will throw the yoke right or left, forcing big guys like Payden Nielsen and me -let alone our smaller sisters- to stumble and knock into each other and the frame. My experience was only with mildly cold rain with periods of warmth. The pioneers endured deep snow and freezing rivers. Ours was only a three day journey, theirs were months.

I make these comparisons to illustrate the very tough, strenuous, and frightening ordeal the pioneers had. I do not believe that they could have done any of it without unshakeable testimonies and enduring faith. Faith in themselves, others, and God. I had my own trial and strengthening of faith in my Trek experience.

I gained greater faith in myself on the first day. I had a wavering faith in myself when I struggled up the mountain we crossed, and when I was falling asleep while pushing the handcart late into the night. I did not know if I could keep going at times. In Ether 12:6, it says, "And now, I, Moroni, would speak somewhat concerning these things; I would show unto the world that faith is things which are hoped for and not seen; wherefore, dispute not because ye see not, for ye receive no witness until after the trial of your faith." I knew that I could do those things. With each step, I knew I could take the next. My faith in myself grew with my trials.

My faith in others definitely grew also. I learned to love my family through struggling together. Some of them I knew well before the Trek, others, I had just met. I began to have faith in them through our hard work. I knew they would push and pull right alongside me, and pick up where I faltered. In the "nature walk" activity that we had, faith was a key point of the lesson. I was led along by my trek sister Kynzie, and I pulled my brother Tanner. During the time we were blindfolded and silent. I knew that I would not let either of them go. I had to strain to an uncomfortable point quite a few times to keep both of them with me. I had faith that Kynzie would not leave me, and I would not let Tanner go to be lost or confused. My faith was once again put to light in my dependence on others.

This activity also represented faith in God. We were stopped eventually and told to do a difficult task, one which had very unlikely odds of us accomplishing. Each of us became lost at some point, unable to figure out what we should do. Eventually we were called to a spot where our leaders sat singing hymns. Our blindfolds and confusion signified how we are in daily life. Trying to go the right way, but not knowing how or where. The leaders' singing represented Jesus Christ's teachings and the teaching of his prophets. We have to look to them and have faith in their love and support for us. The pioneers had incredible faith in order to leave their homes, friends, and jobs, in order to follow the will of God. To hike and pull handcarts through plains and mountains and deserts, is a testament to their faith in Heavenly Father.

I witnessed no great miracles on Trek. I had no divine beings testify to me of the gospel. I did have small confirmations throughout the journey of Heavenly Father's and Christ's love for me and their knowledge of my worries and problems. My faith, testimony, and love for them was strengthened. I know that Heavenly Father is most deserving of my faith because he has never abandoned me. He has always been there for me when I needed him and simply asked. My trials have strengthened my faith in Him, and they will continue to do so as long as I rely on Him.

The Key to a Family Connection by Spence Wilhelm

When I was in High School, my sister Nonie asked me if I wanted an old record cabinet she had stored in her shed.  It was one of the things the family had from my Great Grandmother Gibbons.  "Of course!", I said.  It took me more than thirty five years to follow through on my word and I'm glad I finally did.

Throughout the years Nonie kept asking me and I kept saying yes but never did anything about it.  When I was in my late forties, Nonie was cleaning out her shed and showed up with it at our home in Saint Johns. It is quite unremarkable looking.  The finish is a dull and worn and it stands about two and a half feet tall.  We couldn't open the box and Nonie didn't have a key.  So it sat there for a bit longer.  One day I was talking with Mom on the phone and mentioned it would be fun to open Grandma's record cabinet.  Mom laughed and said she had a key for it somewhere.   Wow.

Two weeks later Mom and Dad came over to Saint Johns on a Saturday afternoon and brought the key.  As I remember, most of our kids were visiting that weekend.  We had decided we would make a day of it with a picnic and a ceremony to open our little time capsule.

Later that evening we huddled around Grandma's cabinet in our front room laughing and guessing what we would find.  The key was an old sliver looking skeleton key and it easily turned the lock.  Inside we found over 30 full sized 78 RPM records that Dad had listened to as a boy.  Christine and I had a record player so we started pulling records out and listening to them.  It was really fun because Dad would tell us stories about how they would listen and have fun with the records.

After pulling most of the albums out of the cabinet I found a small platter with the following written in pencil on the cover, "Grandma Gibbons".  One side of the plastic encrusted metal disc had a hand written label, "Come Come Ye Saints, Granny Gibbons 8/24/1944." - she was 85 years old. We put it on and heard Grandma Gibbons sing that wonderful old pioneer song to us.  After it was over we sat in silence for a moment, too stunned to say anything.  A few of us had tears in our eyes and all were laughing and chittering about the miracle of finding such a gem.  It is the only known recording of Grandma Gibbons voice.

To think it sat in the locked record cabinet all of those years and was still functional is amazing to me.  More than that I'm thrilled to have something to know Grandma Gibbons.  She died before I was born and until we found the record, she was someone I knew only through stories of other people.  Now I feel connected.

BLOOM by Suzanne Hancock

Each summer, I am surprised when I see something I planted actually grow and blossom. I am especially pleased when my perennials return. It is like a gift coming up from the soil to welcome the season, and I, in turn, welcome each one with gladness and quite a bit of shock. Our soil is hard and lacks the nutrients that promote easy gardening, so we do our best with what we have, even though we aren’t anywhere close to being Richard and Ethel Hext. 

Several years ago, my favorite type of yard work used to be weed-eating. I loved getting in my anti-allergy gear and chopping down the unwanted growth. I much preferred this to trying to make anything pretty grow, as my black thumb seemed to prevent any plants or flowers from flourishing. I found a satisfaction of getting rid of what was unsavory, and that was enough. Then.

So what changed?

The answer is simple. My heart.

When my primary concern was ridding the yard of weeds, my heart was covered in its own blanket of Goatheads that choked out any hope of tulips or marigolds. I literally cut down weed after weed after weed in an attempt to figuratively rid my soul of the same. Conversely, as I made changes necessary in order to align my heart with that of my Father in Heaven and his son, Jesus Christ, calla lilies and daisies sprouted from my very being.

I was eleven, going on twelve, years old when our family moved from Clifton, Arizona to St. Johns. It was a delicate time for a young woman to move to a new town with no friends, entering 7th grade, and missing the life and home I had known for eight years. My ever-insightful and thoughtful mother gave a family home evening lesson about blooming where you are planted. I recall her having a handout of some sort that she gave to each of us, and she had a decoration in our home for many years with that phrase. 

After that time, I moved several more times as my life took me to college, to teaching in Tempe, to moving back to St. Johns, to getting married with a home of my own. Each time I have moved, I think of the mantra to bloom where I am planted.

This year, observing the sunflowers that have grown from our planting in prior years as well as from new seeds this year, I can’t stop thinking about this lesson. I had always applied it to actually moving from place to place, when it has much more far-reaching applications.

I need to BLOOM in my callings, BLOOM in my station in life, BLOOM in my relationships, BLOOM in my testimony.

This weekend has been emotional for our family. Paul’s grandpa passed away. Grandma Donna received her Temple endowments. Grandma Donna was also sealed to her parents, sealed to her deceased husband, and Aunt LaDawn, Donna’s daughter, was sealed to her mother and father.

Watching their faces, full of joy, tears of pure eternal bliss running down their cheeks, they epitomize blooming. They have taken many years of heartache, of doubts and fears, of loneliness, and they have turned those weeds into a field of geraniums. They did this the only way it is possible to do. They did it through the forgiveness, and the strength, and the enabling power of the Atonement of Jesus Christ. 

That is the only way we can truly bloom.

I still like to weed eat and even pull a few weeds here and there to get my fix (I know… I’m weird), but I much prefer to see the things of beauty emerge from the ground in spite of the soil, in spite of the lack of rain, in spite of the heat and the humidity.

I much prefer to see things bloom.

What a Wonderful World! by Lisa Trickey

It's Saturday night.  I'm sanding, painting, and smell like crawdad because the grandkids wanted to crawdad fish today.  Three weeks ago Suzanne asked me to write a blog post by today.  I've thought about it, even sat down to write it, but then something would come up.  Needless to say I'm thinking about the things I do and don't do well.  Where painting is concerned, there is absolutely NO perfection in me.  I just want it DONE!  Sanding I'm a little better at.  It doesn't have to be exact, and you are usually covering up the sand job anyway.  Crawdad fishing - marginally good.  Enjoying grandkids...amazingly good!  Procrastination - Perfect!

I'm not sure the connection, but these thoughts reminded me of a time our family visited San Diego.  One morning I woke up super early and decided to watch the sun come up while sitting on the sandy beach.  To my delight, the sand was covered with hundreds and maybe even thousands of sand dollars! I was amazed at their intricate design and tender beauty.  I was grateful and humbled to be able to witness them, and also felt a great appreciation to their creator.

As a college student I was priveleged to spend a semester at BYU Hawaii.  One day a couple of friends and I went to a beautiful bay, and on our two dollar rafts decided to relax in the calm waters.  Because we had just watched the movie Jaws, we felt the bay was much safer than the wave filled ocean.  Unfortunately, we must have fallen asleep because when we were awakened by shrill screams, the people on the beach looked minuscule.  "Shark, shark," my terrified friend shrieked.  Around us swimming in a circle were fins!  As she panicked, the fins turned into dolphins and started jumping, twisting, and eventually calming my friend with their entertaining moves.  They stayed with us, calmed us, and entertained us when we lost our cool, all the way to safety.  I was grateful and humbled to be able to witness them, and also felt a great appreciation to their creator.

As a newly retired teacher watching the new school year approach with absolutely no pressure, I have had many moments to reminisce on my few years in the classroom.  How I have loved these kids.  I think St. Johns Arizona has the absolutely, unequivically, best, brightest, most delightful kids in the world.  They are kind, smart, unique, insightful, wise, sometimes exasperating, and all the time impressive. I am grateful and humbled to have been able to associate with and get to know them, and also feel a great appreciation to their creator.

I feel a sense of awe towards our creator. He is perfection, compassion, and all.  He gives us what we need when we have the sense to ask, and even when we don't. In Mark 1:40-42 we read about the leper.  Leprosy was a horrible disease that disfugured people.  Lepers were ostricized and sent away.  For Christ to heal the leper was kind and miraculous, but he also touched him.  Something that didn't happen to this man.  Christ could have healed him just with words, but he loved him and also healed his soul with a touch. 

I am so grateful to Christ who was first our creator, then our teacher, and then our Savior.  What a beautiful world he has given us, with beautiful things, experiences, and people.  How fortunate I feel that in my mediocrity I get to experience his perfect love the way I need to feel it.  What a Wonderful World!

What is Your Vision? by Sister Kadee Avila

I've wondered recently and reflected on why our Savior and older Brother has played such a role in my life. How I've allowed Him to be so involved in every aspect and what has come of me doing so.

I was pondering what original vision I had for my mission when I first came out. All of us in life start anything we do with a vision right? We have goals, whether we intentionally set them or not. When you start pre-season your vision is to play, practice, work in unity and ultimately win right? It’s the same with anything we do.

My first vision of coming on my mission was not to baptize a certain number of people, or esteem to have a leadership assignment….

I knew the Lord had a work for me to do and figured that the work would look like whatever He saw fit to have it look like. Figured it would be close to his ministry- loving people.

So I just kinda leaped.

My testimony of our Savior was very quiet and personal to me before I came out here. I knew our Father in Heaven had a plan for me and ALL His Children. I believed that and in faith I trusted and followed…

But it was when I felt the most bitter grief and sorrow in my life that I fully came to understand a bit more and know that our Savior Jesus Christ is the center of God's plan for each of us.

(And I've lived an absolutely charmed life. But for me at my own personal low- that's when I came to know that the Savior loves us and will meet us there and bring us up.)

I've found the vision I've had for my mission has been for Him to make of it and me whatever His will is. For this I'm so grateful.

I love this Gospel. I love this work.

I love having faith, repenting, and following the guidance of His holy Spirit. I love the Sacrament and renewing our Baptismal covenants, and I know there is power and truth in these ordinances and words. I've changed and I love Him for it.

I know our Savior lives.

Promised Blessings by Janet Ottto

I have secretly always loved doing family history, but it didn't used to be something I shared publicly. I was afraid if too many people knew how much I enjoyed it, I would be stuck serving in the family history center! Silly how narrow-minded we can be. 

Despite my love of doing family history, I have never been truly committed to it.  Sometimes  I would work hard on it 3 days in a row and then nothing for months. Last year at a Stake Relief Society event, I heard President Kevin Lee share with us how important it is to do family history consistently. He said that if we only do it once in awhile, then once in awhile we can receive the promised blessings  (I'm paraphrasing:). We miss out on fully receiving the blessings the Lord has waiting for us.  I need lots of blessings!  So I started considering that and the Spirit kept working on me. Shortly after I was called to be Stake Young Women's President, our Stake Presidency, issued an assignment to all of the stake leaders and their families to commit to four goals:

1)Work on some aspect of family history each week.

2)At least once a month, search for and find a name to take to the temple.

3) Attend the temple once a month and perform the ordinances of salvation for the names we find.

4)Teach others how to find names and take them to the temple, too.

The Spirit had already been working on me since that Relief Society Conference. So when President Burgoyne approached us with this assignment, I was excited to present it to my family and make a team effort!  I had heard the apostles counsel us on doing this work in the recent past and pronounce blessings on our families as we participated in it. But I guess I always felt "too busy" or "too tired" or "not my season" to do it consistently.  I do love a good challenge, though, so I prayed about it and asked Heavenly Father to help me know how to invite my family to do it with me and that I would gain a testimony of this work.  I also prayed to receive the promised blessings from being engaged in family history.

I decided to present the invitation to my family during Family Home Evening. I believe most of us felt the Spirit as we discussed it and all of them were at least willing to try. We discussed ways to go about  it.  A few of our kids had gotten on family search and had accounts already, thanks to awesome youth leaders! But they had forgotten most everything about it. We decided Sundays would be our best day to work on it together because it was the only day of the week we were all home.  We also talked about a variety of family history ideas, like journaling, entering photos on family search, indexing, finding stories, recording stories and voices, etc...so that it would be fun. 

I don't know why it surprises me, but as we've been consistent about doing family history, we really do see some of the blessings coming into our lives that the Stake Presidency promised us! We have seen miracles take place, our testimonies have been strengthened, relationships are being repaired, we feel extra protection from the adversary, and I have gained an even stronger knowledge that Christ is the Redeemer of mankind and Savior of the world.  How does it happen?? I don't know. But it does happen. I know our Stake Presidency was inspired to share this with us.  We have missed some weeks here and there, but the progress we've made is truly amazing!  Some of my children have become better at it than me! I trust the promises of the apostles and our stake presidency that our youth will be blessed with protection from the adversary.  In raising my own children, I need to feel the hope this promise brings!  I am thankful for this challenge.  It has been a most amazing (and surprising!) blessing in my life.  

Oh, Remember, Remember by Paul Hancock

In the Sunday morning session of General Conference in October 2007, I had nestled into the couch with my beautiful wife, Suzanne, and was prepared to take a nap. We had been married for just less than a year. Julie B. Beck gave a talk on “Mothers Who Know.” I don’t recall a whole lot of that talk, but I knew that my life was about to change. As she continued her talk, I started to pay more attention. When she concluded her talk, Suzanne muted the TV and said, “We need to talk.” I told her that we really didn’t need to talk. That message was received, loud and clear! The Holy Ghost was very clear that Cael was ready to come to us. We were blessed in July of the next year with Cael.

Fast forward to the Heap Reunion of 2016. We were preparing to go camping at the Heap Reunion. Cael and I were still at home, finishing loading up the trailer while Suzanne went to RV to shop and then would head to camp. As I was getting ready to hook the fifth wheel up to the truck, I couldn’t find the keys to the trailer. I needed the keys to be able to jack the trailer up. Cael loved playing with the keys and having them with him, so I knew that he had them. I asked him where the keys were, and he didn’t know. I ran into the house to grab them because they were usually in a jar. The keys were not there. I called Suzanne, who was now shopping at Safeway and was with her sister, Nicole. She said that she didn’t know where they were. She asked if we had prayed yet and that she and Nicole would both say a prayer. I asked Cael to say a prayer, asking for help to find the keys. We continued to look for the keys. We even took a trip to Gas-n-Go, where we had put more air in the truck tires. Still no keys. As I was going through the house again, I knelt and asked Heavenly Father for help looking for the keys. As I headed back outside to retrace my steps again, I heard in my mind – “look under the car seat.” I told Cael that the keys were in the truck under his car seat. We went to the truck, and under his car seat were the keys. Cael asked me how I knew that they keys were there. I told him that the Holy Ghost had told me where the keys were. We said a prayer, thanking Heavenly Father for the help in finding the keys, and we headed to the mountains. 

President Henry B. Eyring also gave a talk in that session of the October 2007 General Conference. 

When President Eyring’s children were very young, as he was headed home late after a Church assignment, he passed his father-in-law carrying a load of pipes dressed in work clothes. It was after dark.  His father-in-law, who lived near them, was building a system to pump water from a stream below up to their property. As he passed his father-in-law, his father-in-law smiled, spoke softly, and then rushed to go on with his work. As President Eyring got to a door, he heard in his mind – not in his own voice – these words: “I’m not giving you these experiences for yourself. Write them down.”

President Eyring went inside. He didn’t go to bed, although he was tired. He took out some paper and began to write. As he did, he understood the message that he had heard in his mind. He was supposed to record for his children to read, someday in the future, how I had seen the hand of God blessing his family. President Eyring would write down a few lines every day for years. He never missed a day no matter how tired he was or how early he had to arise the next day. Before he would write, he would ponder this question: “Have I seen the hand of God reaching out to touch us or our children or our family today?” As President Eyring kept at it, something began to happen. He would see evidence of what God had done for one of them that he had not recognized in the busy moments of the day. He realized that trying to remember had allowed God to show him what God had done. 

As President Eyring did this, more than gratitude grew in his heart. Testimony grew. He became more certain that Heavenly Father hears and answers prayers. He felt more gratitude for the softening and refining that come because of the Atonement of Jesus Christ. He grew more confident that the Holy Ghost can bring all things to our remembrance – even things we did not notice or pay attention to when they happened. 

After many years went by, his boys had grown into men. They would surprise him by saying, “Dad, I was reading in my copy of the journal about when…” and then they would tell him about how reading of what happened long ago helped him notice something God had done in his day. 

President Eyring’s point is to urge us to find ways to recognize and remember God’s kindness. It will help build our testimonies. You may not keep a journal. Unfortunately, I don’t keep a journal, but I try to remember the experiences that I have had. You may not share whatever record you keep with those you love and serve, but you and they will be blessed as you remember what the Lord has done. We do try to point out the times that we are blessed or led by the Holy Ghost, so that Cael can learn to listen for and hear his voice. Suzanne and I have both felt it important that we try to help Cael understand the way that the Holy Ghost speaks to us. The other day we had a bag blow into our yard. It looked like a cover for one of those pop up shade awnings. I was just going to throw it into the trash, but Cael said, “Something tells me we should keep it and give it to the Friedens.” So we kept it. The other day we saw Brother Frieden, as he was packing up to move away from us. We asked him if it was his, and it was. 

It isn’t easy to remember. Living as we do with a veil over our eyes, we cannot remember what it was like to be with our Heavenly Father; nor can we see with our physical eyes or with reason alone the hand of God in our lives. Seeing such things takes the Holy Ghost. It isn’t easy to be worthy of the Holy Ghost’s companionship in a wicked world. 

This is why forgetting God has been such a persistent problem among God’s children since the world began. Think of all the miracles that they have seen. Still they were warned “take heed to thyself, and keep thy soul diligently, lest thou forget the things which thine eyes have seen, and lest they depart from thy heart all the days of thy life.” (Deuteronomy 4:9)

The more abundantly blessed that we are, the harder it is to remember. Those who are faithful to God are protected and prospered. That comes as a result of serving God and keeping His commandments. But with these blessings comes the temptation to forget their source. It is easy to begin to believe that these blessings were because of our own powers. 

Prosperity isn’t the only time that we can forget God. We can forget Him when our lives go badly. When we are struggling to make ends meet, when we are sick, or when everything seems to be going against us. When Satan tells us that there is no God, or if there is, He doesn’t care about us. A few years ago, I had applied to be the Chief Probation Officer in Navajo County. I had the support of three of the four judges, the county manager, the county attorney, the Sheriff, defense attorneys, and many others. I felt that I had worked hard and had put myself in a good position for the job. Before the interview, I prayed that I would be blessed to say the right things and be calm. I knew that this was in God’s hands, and it would work out the way He wanted. In my heart, I knew I was getting this job. I was painfully humbled when a week or so later, I called to tell Suzanne that I didn’t get the promotion. It was hard at that time to not blame God. 

The key to the remembering that brings and maintains testimony is receiving the Holy Ghost as a companion. It is the Holy Ghost who helps us see what God has done for us. It is the Holy Ghost who can help those we serve to see what God has done for them. 

Heavenly Father has given a simple pattern for us to receive the Holy Ghost not once but continually in the tumult of our daily lives. The pattern is repeated in the sacramental prayer: We promise that we will always remember the Savior. We promise to take His name upon us. We promise to keep His commandments. And we are promised that if we do that, we will have His Spirit to be with us. These promises work together in a wonderful way to strengthen our testimonies and in time, through the Atonement, to change our natures as we keep our part of the promise. 

A couple of years after not getting the job in Navajo County, I was blessed with an opportunity to be the head of the probation department here. I am happier than I had ever been in Navajo County. I can see that in my professional life, that my Heavenly Father has played a large role. In my personal life, He has also played a large role. As we raise Cael, Suzanne and I look for opportunities to show Cael the goodness that Heavenly Father blesses us with. As we do, I know that his testimony of our Father in Heaven will grow. He will seek to listen to the Holy Ghost. We choose to share these special moments with each other, with Cael, and other times with our families and friends via Instagram and Facebook. 

As we share these experiences with Cael, I know that he is building a testimony. There are times when he will have lost something, or he sees someone in need. Cael will quietly bow his head and offer a prayer. He knows that prayers are answered. He knows that the Holy Ghost talks to us and helps us.

May we all remember and give thanks for the hand of God in our daily lives.