Showing posts with label trials. Show all posts

10 Encouraging LDS Quotes to Lift a Troubled Heart

If there’s one thing for certain in this life, it’s that we will be tested and go through trials. The pain from these trying times can at times feel soul-crushing and incredibly lonely. But there is a light in the darkness, One who perfectly understands what we are going through.


While the Lord might not always lift our burden immediately, there is help available if we ask. In Christ, we can find peace and solace from our pain and sins. Here are some words of wisdom to help lift your heart when you’re feeling down.

6 Talks to Give You Strength in Trials




Adversity is a persistent part of mortality and something that all people, regardless of race, gender, or socioeconomic status, will surely face in this life. In times of suffering, pain, and heartache, it is easy to lose hope and let our challenges overcome us. Yet, as we turn to the principles of the gospel of Jesus Christ and trust in God and His plan for us, we can find strength, courage, and hope.

Below are six talks that I have found particularly meaningful as I have struggled through my own personal trials and adversity.


Facing Infertility With a Perfect Brightness of Hope

Photo Credit: Tiffany Feger, Fishy Face Photography
When I was four years old, I shared a room with my infant sister. One time in the middle of the night, recalls our mother, my sister awoke and began to fuss. Then all was silent. When my mom came in the bedroom to check on the baby, she was quite startled to see that she was not in her crib. My mom looked towards my bed and saw me sitting there, gently rocking the baby. She had no idea how I got her out, but it warmed her heart.

Even as a young child, I had a strong desire to be a nurturer, and that feeling has stayed with me into adulthood. My deepest desire was to get married and have lots of children. Now fast forward almost three decades later. My husband and I have a five year old son, and we have been praying and hoping for more children. After we decided to try for a second child a few years ago, I began to feel impatient as it was taking longer than I had hoped. I asked my husband for a priesthood blessing. After the blessing, I felt a sweet reassurance that things would work out, and I felt renewed strength and patience.

Three lessons from the Eternal Week


Earlier this month my wife and I celebrated our fourth wedding anniversary. Also, earlier this month marked four years since my father passed away. We had been preparing for both events for months, but never expected them to happen within the same week. It was a whirlwind experience full of happy tears and tears of mourning, but that time helped give me a deeper perspective on what this life is all about. The week was eternal--both in length and meaning. Here are three lessons I learned.

Love thy Neighbor 
The morning after my father passed, I attended church with my mother, sister, brother-in-law, and soon-to-be wife. We received handshakes, hugs, and all forms of condolences as we walked into the chapel. I’ll never forget the opening prayer of the meeting as a sister in the ward expressed sincere love and appreciation for my family, and prayed that we would receive special blessings of strength and comfort during this time. At that moment the spirit hit my heart with such piercing power and I felt an overwhelming sense of love around us from our friends and neighbors.

The Plan of Happiness 
I have thought that all we needed was someone in the family to have a baby and we would have had every major event in this life covered in one week. Birth, marriage, and death. There were multiple special and sacred moments that week that solidified my testimony of the Plan of Salvation. I know we lived with our Father in Heaven before we came to earth, and I know that we can return to live with him and have an opportunity to live with our families again.

Strength in the Savior 
I saw a quote by the pioneer prophet Brigham Young that read “We went West willingly--because we had to.” That sums up my explanation as to how I got through that week. Just as the early pioneers of the Church left their lives behind to go to the Salt Lake Valley, we willingly did everything because we had to and there was no other way. At the end of it all, I was both physically and emotionally exhausted, but I had never felt closer to my Savior and Father in Heaven and felt a deep inner strength moving forward.

I know that Jesus Christ is there for us, He will not leave us comfortless, but will lift us up and give us strength when needed. That is the most important lesson anyone can learn.

Choose This Day



"For those who are discouraged by their circumstances and are
therefore tempted to feel they cannot serve the Lord this day, I make you two
promises. Hard as things seem today, they will be better in the next day if you
choose to serve the Lord this day with your whole heart... The other promise I make to you is that by choosing to serve Him this day, you will feel His love and grow to love Him more
."

— President Henry B. Eyring

Discovering the Dash: Why I Love Family History

“In all of us there is a hunger, marrow-deep, to know our heritage—to know who we are and where we have come from. Without this enriching knowledge, there is a hollow yearning.” 
Alex Haley
Henry Bigler, Stephen Courtright's great-great grandfather
It was usually after we crossed the Wyoming border when my father—who each summer packed our family of seven into a mini-van to drive 1,400 miles from Wisconsin to Idaho to visit family—would begin telling his travel-weary children stories of their “western heritage.” There were stories told of ancestors like my great-great grandfather Charley Courtright, a young backwoods blacksmith in California who stole the heart of a beautiful, proper English woman in a love story which rivals that of any other in the Old West. Dad also told of ancestors like Henry Bigler, who after joining The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (LDS Church) traversed nearly the entire western U.S. landscape as a member of the Mormon Battalion, an outfit in the Mexican-American War credited with undertaking the longest domestic military march in U.S. history.

At times, my father must have felt that such stories were falling on deaf, uninterested ears. Yet, year after year, on those long treks across the western wilderness, the storytelling persisted. Why would Dad continue telling us of our heritage, even while being uncertain that his children would actually appreciate the stories? Now as a young father myself, I can see why.

We live in a world where it is increasingly difficult for family members to create strong, lasting bonds. Moreover, youth and adults alike are increasingly being given mixed messages about their worth and where that worth comes from, resulting in less resilience to life’s challenges and undermined faith in Jesus Christ. Parents and others like myself are thus asking themselves, “How can we strengthen bonds in our family?”, “How can we help our children to be more self-confident and resilient?” and “How can we develop greater individual and collective faith in Jesus Christ?”

This is why I love family history—because, perhaps surprisingly, it helps families and individuals to address each of these questions. In particular, let me highlight two blessings that can come from discovering and sharing about our family heritage.

1. Discovering and sharing about our heritage strengthens family bonds and helps individuals to be more resilient to life’s challenges.

Recently, I was intrigued by a study discussed in the New York Times and conducted by a group of Emory University psychologists who showed that the single best predictor of children’s emotional well-being and happiness was the extent to which children knew about their family history. Moreover, the researchers found that the more children knew the history of their families, the more successfully they believed their families functioned. Finally, families who told family history narratives which emphasized both the “ups” and “downs” of life had the most resilient children. All of these findings were attributed to family members forming a strong “intergenerational self”, or a sense that they belonged to something greater than themselves.

The implications of this study are profound. They show that family history is more than just an activity for “old” people, or a ploy to keep children quiet in a crowded mini-van (as I used to think on those long treks from Wisconsin to Idaho). Moreover, it is not just a process of collecting birth and death dates, such as finding out that Charley Courtright lived from 1853-1921. Instead, family history is about discovering the dash that lies between those dates—the life stories of these ancestors. And it is in “discovering the dash” and weaving family stories into a narrative that the blessings of strong family bonds and greater resiliency become more attainable.

For that and other reasons, across the global LDS Church and well as in our College Station congregation, there has been an ongoing emphasis on helping members to discover their heritage. In turn, I have witnessed how “discovering the dash” has helped our members, particularly our youth, to build stronger family bonds and become more resilient.

For instance, during a recent activity on a Wednesday evening, the youth in our congregation each used laptops and other devices to look at their family tree and to input stories and pictures of their ancestors on the familysearch.org website, which is sponsored by the LDS Church. While standing in the background and observing the youth, I noticed that one youth, who was reading a story of a grandfather whom she had never met, began to weep. Just as I was about to ask her if everything was okay, a friend sitting nearby asked her that same question. In response, I overheard the youth tell her friend: “Sometimes, when I’m reading about my grandparents, I am just overwhelmed by how grateful I am for them. It’s amazing to see that they faced similar challenges as me, and I know I can be helped through my trials just like they were.” 

2. Discovering our heritage can draw us nearer to the Savior Jesus Christ.

Yet, beyond even those blessings, I have found in my own life that discovering my heritage has drawn me closer to the Savior. I learned this lesson as a young LDS missionary in Chile.

Though my trials were not unique to what many young and inexperienced missionaries face, I struggled at first with learning a new language, the effects of food poisoning, and pangs of homesickness. I was admittedly doubtful as to how I could complete a two-year mission when the challenges I faced at the time seemed insurmountable. However, in the midst of those challenges, I remembered the stories about Henry Bigler that my father had shared all those years ago in our crowded mini-van.

Shortly after his service in the Mormon Battalion, Henry was part of the first group of LDS missionaries in Hawaii. Like me, Henry struggled with learning a new language and experienced bouts of homesickness and difficult adjustments to the new culture. However, unlike what I went through, Henry spent the nearly three years on his mission without a single pair of shoes, and he faced persecution and sicknesses to a degree that I could scarcely imagine.

Nevertheless, while I did not face nearly as dire of circumstances, I felt the presence of Henry Bigler encouraging me on in my missionary service. Indeed, thanks to the narratives shared by my father, I remembered how the Savior, through His grace, had strengthened Henry in his afflictions and how he had come to know the Lord through the sacrifices he made on his mission. I came to know that the Lord could do the same for me if, like Henry, I pressed on in His service.

In the end, my mission to Chile turned out to be the greatest adventure I could have ever experienced as a 19-21 year old young man. Though some will surely argue with me on this point, I believe that no young man was affected or changed more by an LDS mission than I was. I came to know the Savior and His mercy, a process that was aided by an ancestor who had died 100 years earlier but with whom I found a kinship as real as any earthly kinship. I continue to feel Henry Bigler’s presence in my life and feel nearer to Jesus Christ as a result.

And that is why I love family history.

“In all of us there is a hunger, marrow-deep, to know our heritage.” I invite all who read this post to respond to this hunger and “discover the dash” as it relates to their own heritage. In doing so, I pray that you will be able to strengthen family bonds, be more resilient to life’s challenges, and draw nearer to Jesus Christ, who I testify is the Savior and Redeemer of the world.

***For more information on doing family history, visit familysearch.org or, if you live in the B/CS area, visit our church’s Family History Center at 2500 Barak Lane in Bryan.***


Stephen Courtright is an assistant professor in the Mays Business School at Texas A&M University and currently serves as second counselor of the College Station 3rd Ward bishopric of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He grew up in Sun Prairie, Wisconsin and Kuna, Idaho and served a full-time mission for the Church in Concepcion, Chile from 2002-2004. He later graduated from Brigham Young University-Idaho and the University of Iowa. He and his wife, Nicole, met when they were six years old and grew up together as close friends. They married in 2004 and are the proud parents of three children.  

It's a short flight.

This post was originally published here by Jessica Garlick Dyer, a graduate of A&M Consolidated High School in 2008. We post this with her permission. 

It was a cold, bitter day back in early March of 2013. My contacts had been in for way too long. My hair was up in a high tangled bun and we were still in our clothes from 24 hours before.

We'd been sleeping {more like waiting} in the Denver airport all night. At 6 a.m. on the dot I got in line at the customer service desk of United Airlines to attempt to get added onto the next flight home. Our flight the night before had been cancelled a few hours after our connection landed in Denver. It would be a miracle if we got seats on that flight, and it was a miracle that we were capable of functioning physically, emotionally, and mentally at that moment.

That day Travis had a midterm he needed to be back in time to take, and the fact that he hadn't been able to study all night in the below freezing airport didn't even phase us. All we were worried about was getting him in his classroom to take the test. Not to mention that the purpose of all the crazy back-to-back traveling across the country was for intense interviews for PhD programs. Our future was completely uncertain. And just 5 weeks earlier, I had given birth to our little girl, after being pregnant for just over 34 weeks. Travis held my hand while I endured labor, delivery, and then the worst drive of our lives---the one when we drove home from the hospital with an empty carseat installed behind us. And then for a couple weeks after that, Travis held my hand again as I felt the terrible pain---both the physical and emotional pain---that comes with tons of breast milk coming in, but not being able to let it out at all, but especially not having a little baby to feed the milk to.

Sitting in the airport that early morning I really wondered if life could get any worse. It just seemed like one thing after another. Not to mention the week before we ended up in the ER for Travis' leg and I could go on and on about little things that in the moment scared me out of my mind. Because after our traumatic experience with our baby girl, I then felt vulnerable. And to top it off, all I could think about was how in order to get a baby here to raise it would take at least 9 more months of agonizing fear, doubts, and worries {the list goes on and on}, where each day feels like a year, in order to bring a baby home with us. And then the realization came that it will always be hard for us to have a baby---pregnancy is now one of the greatest ways that our faith is tested from now on. And that is overwhelming at times.

This scripture from Isaiah has come to my mind often: “For, behold, I have refined thee, I have chosen thee in the furnace of affliction” (Isaiah 48:10). 

Yet, while the refiner’s fire is the path by which we must go to obtain joy, it is just that—a fire—hot, uncomfortable, and dangerous. We do, though, have the ability to come out refined from the experience---not damaged.

Thankfully the woman at the customer service desk was in a semi-good mood. We ended up getting on the plane. We lined up to board, trying not to fall asleep standing up.

And that’s when I saw an older couple with a teenage girl who had disabilities try to get tickets on the same flight, it appeared that they had slept in the airport that night too; my heart hurt for them. I said a silent prayer they would get on the flight.

Once on the plane, I noticed the couple and daughter got seats, just in the row across from us. Right as they sat down, the cycle began: crying, silence, questioning—repeat. This was the process that the tall teenage girl, with blonde hair and glasses, with some sort of mental handicap repeated to her father. She talked very loud and used childlike phrases. Some people stared and acted annoyed.

She was scared. She had no choice but to be on that plane to make the connection in Salt Lake to eventually get to her destination. When we first boarded, the plane was neat to her. She stared out the window watching the crew de-ice the plane. But then, as soon as the plane left the solid concrete ground for the air, she panicked.

She sat in the window seat and talked the entire flight, repeating over and over, practically yelling, “It’s a short flight, right dad?” She repeated this all the way from Denver, Colorado, to Salt Lake City, Utah. She stammered these words through tears and then the next second through confidence, then back through tears. Sometimes she would start to cry hysterically and then her dad would calm her down and she would go on to repeat all these emotions in the same cycle.

I sat in awe the whole flight---watching, listening. This girl's father, ever so patient and calm, reassured his daughter every few minutes by answering her question with, “yes, it’s a short flight,” over and over again. Though, there was no doubt in my mind that it had to be what felt like the longest flight ever to him. He let his wife sleep the whole flight, while he took care of his daughter, constantly calming and reassuring her. How tiring it must have been.

My mind was racing. This man and his wife are taking care of their daughter for what I assume would be 24/7 for the rest of her life. He never gets a break. But oh how patient he was. He was noticeably exhausted, yet he never once raised his voice, got upset, or ignored his daughter. I felt humbled and ashamed to have ever felt tired or sorry for myself, or having ever talked impatiently. This man was handling his own furnace of affliction in that moment so well, ultimately as Christ would have responded. 

I was reminded that morning what it must be like for our Heavenly Father to watch us panic in a time of trial, only to console us with perfect patience and compassion. And I was also reminded how everyone has trials as I watched in awe a father so patiently and lovingly be in control of a very stressful, trying situation. I watched him care for her realizing that he and his wife would have this responsibility for the entirety of their time on earth. How hard it must be. 

"It’s a short flight, right dad? Yes, it’s a short flight.” Over and over again, crying.

When I felt the plane skid on the runway in SLC I was relieved. Not for me, but for this girl and her dad. The flight was over. And then, as soon as we landed, in a voice I can still hear in my mind, the girl exclaimed to her dad with so much excitement: “It was a great flight! It was short flight, huh dad?”

And her father agreed, “yes, it was a great, short flight.”

I have a feeling that's how we'll all respond when our individual flights on this earth are over. It’s hard not to know what hard things are around the next turn. But this Travis and I do know, that because of the atonement of Jesus Christ, we are enabled to do what we need to do in this life to become more like Him. That knowledge brings power, no matter how smooth or bumpy our flight gets. 

And in the grand scheme of eternity, it really is just a great, short flight.