The story about the jersey brought tears to this old granny. I can testify that
the Lord moves in mysterious ways to help our missionaries to teach the gospel.
My family have always been members, but I have one son who served, and a
grandson also. We all had some special moments in that period of time on our
When I was a brand new, and often depressed, missionary serving in Robertsdale,
Alabama I was outside a Piggly Wiggly grocery store one day and happened to see
that the truck delivering groceries to the store had a Utah license plate. Made
me smile and I felt just a little more connected to home.I had that
small experience and many other more profound, powerful experiences on my
mission that showed me that Heavenly Father loved me and watched over me. And
since He loves me, warts and all, I know He loves all of you, too. I find this
amazing and humbling all at the same time.
While driving near the Katakwi Uganda. I spotted a young man riding a bike
wearing a shirt that said "Salt Lake County Recreation". I had to stop
and take his picture.
Good. But, what happened to the young boy with the jersey?
I had a similar experience, not as personal as this minor miracle, but I was
rendered speechless when a woman in Buenos Aires answered her door wearing a
T-shirt that said; I'm a Salt Lake City Sandbagger 1983.
I spent several years of my childhood living in Accra, Ghana, so this story was
really special for me. We were the only "members" living in Ghana at the
time (1970's) so when the church first began sending missionaries our home
was the mission home. Our church group that started out as just the 4 of us in
our family listening to conference talks on cassette tapes each Sunday,
eventually grew to over 2 dozen and of course many other branches had formed
throughout Ghana by the time we were transferred back to the U.S. in 1980. Now
there is a temple and wards and stakes. It's amazing to see how it has
grown! I'm so happy for the Ghanaian members. This story has touched
me--so thank you so much for sharing it. The great thing about stories, poems,
films, art, etc. is that it can speak to many people in many different ways and
spur different emotions and reactions based on ones own life experiences. What
you feel can be totally different than what I feel and that is what is so
wonderful! To criticize the writer, or the missionary because they didn't
have the same reaction or feelings about the experience that you did is not kind
I really enjoyed this article as well as the comment by Sashabill. There really
are no coincidences just God's tender mercies provided to us a lot of times
when we really need it.
Great story. Nicely told. It's great that God speaks to each of us
individually and personally so as to increase our faith in Him.
Coincidence? I think not! What a great story. Some may think, "That's
just a coincidence." I can understand how people conclude that. But I think
stories like this are a great example of how God works. He gives us a reason to
believe that He is there watching out for us, but He doesn't make it
undeniable. He allows us to use our agency to choose if we're going to
believe or not. He never forces it. Beautiful.
There really is a God in heaven and He directs His work. I love this story.
It's a classic example of His touch. A real tender mercy extended to a
faithful one. Dear God what would thou have me do?
This was a sweet story. @Keyboarder, the story was about a missionary feeling
like he was in the wrong place. The shirt was his answer. Another story could be
written about his connection to the people.
A young elder from St. George (a Bundy, I think) serving in Latin America saw
one of his childhood quilts in the hands of a young child who had lost
everything in a flood or earthquake or similar circumstance. Wow!
It is a neat story, but I was fully expecting to learn more about the boy. I
realize that perhaps this young missionary could only learn one thing at a
time... and that he was still developing his own sense of worth. But what about
the boy? Where's the thankfulness that the boy got the smallest portion of
that missionary's comforts from back home? After realizing that God loved
himself, what about thoughts of how he loved the boy just as much? Instead we
hear in the video that "God loves the Jazz?" The way the
article went on about the jersey being so precious, then the quote "It was
really just there to tell me that I was loved" , for a moment as I continued
reading I thought he was going to ask the boy if he could take back the jersey.
I was relived to read that he gave it back to the boy. I'm not trying to
diminish the story, but is that really all that such an experience was supposed
to teach the missionary, teach us? How about a realization that we could do
more to help our brothers and sisters in Africa by donating to charities? Could
it be possible that some day the gutters there don't have to smell like we
"would imagine a gutter would smell like in Africa"?
My story is maybe not as inspiring as Parker's, but is perhaps worth
sharing.A young schoolmate first tried to interest me in the LDS Church
when I was about 12 years old, and in middle school. I had little interest in
religion at that time, and certainly no interest in joining an other church.I told my mother about it, and she - knowing that I have little talent for
dancing and don't enjoy going to dances - informed me that the Mormons have
lots of dancing in their religion. That "solved my problem," and I
promptly forgot about the LDS church for the next 12 years.Later, at
about age 24, was when I finally did join the church. Soon after that, I was
attending my first stake conference as a new church member, and someone tapped
me on the shoulder. I turned around, and was met by the same young man. He
had just returned from his mission in Peru.
This is a great story. A little too great.
Such a great story! Thanks for sharing.