A Rustling Noise


When I was eleven, one day in July my friend and I were hanging out. We decided to go on a bike ride. We were biking around the neighborhood for a little bit and then he asked, “Do you want to go mountain biking?” I said, “Sure.” We biked over to the gully behind Smith’s and were getting ready to enter on a dirt path. I had a feeling not to go down there, and I told my friend we shouldn’t go down into the gully because I had a bad feeling. He said it was fine, so--being an eleven-year-old boy--I decided to go.

Going down there was fine at first. We went on a couple of paths, then we got to a fork in the road. My friend said, “Let me go see what’s ahead. You wait here.” He dropped his bike and started down the path. Shortly after, I thought I heard a rustling noise, so I turned and looked in the tall grass next to me, and two feet away was a rattlesnake. I dropped my bike and ran and got my friend, and we ran out of the gully without our bikes.

It was challenging walking out in the 100-degree weather without bikes or water or any way to contact our parents. We ended up in an unfamiliar neighborhood and knocked on a stranger’s door to ask to use their phone. I called my Mom and told her what happened, and she said she would be right there to get us. She picked us up and drove down into the gully to try and get our bikes. She stopped at the bridge and my friend and I went to grab the bikes, but when we got closer to them we could still hear the snake. So, we ran back to the car and went home. An hour later, my Mom and I went back to the gully. My friend was already there with his grandparents and had retrieved the bikes. By this time the snake was gone.

I know the feeling I had not to enter the gully was the Holy Ghost trying to protect me from danger. I should have listened, and I am grateful I was still protected even though I didn’t listen. Now I try to listen whenever I get a feeling from the Holy Ghost.
Boy wants to mountain bike.

An Angel Took the Wheel


During the summer after I graduated from High School, I was working for my dad in an office fifteen minutes south of my house in Southern California. The freeways were often full of rush hour traffic to and from work.

One morning I was driving in the fast lane and felt a large bang and a strong pull to my right. I heard a clear distinct voice tell me, “Let go of the wheel and trust me.” I closed my eyes and let go. Unaware of my car spinning through four lanes of rush hour traffic, I opened my eyes to find myself perfectly parallel to an embankment. For a split second I saw my grandmother, Laura who had passed away just one year previously. She was sitting in the passenger seat holding my wheel as we spun through traffic.

I called my dad and he quickly came to inspect the car, and make sure all was safe. My tire had literally exploded leaving nothing but a metal rim. Not one dent or collision occurred.

I told my dad that I felt Grandma Laura in the passenger seat, holding my steering wheel and safely moving my car and me out of rush hour traffic.

My dad responded with, "Today you were attended to by the Ministering of Angels." That day the veil was thin, and I personally felt the Hand of God in my life through the blessing of the Ministering of Angels, the specific angel being my beloved grandmother, Laura.
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A Healthy Baby Girl


It was the weekend of my wife's twenty-ninth birthday. We had two small boys, ages one and three years old, and we were living in Southern California where I was working as a Manufacturing Engineer.

I received a distress call from my wife saying she was unexpectedly pregnant. But how could this be? She had a form of birth control that was supposed to be up to 99.9% effective, meaning, roughly only one in one thousand women should get pregnant with it. Not only that, but this wasn't part of our plan. Our two boys were already giving us quite a run for our money and I felt nowhere near ready for another! Then we learned the more concerning news: this pregnancy was more likely to have complications and potentially even be life threatening for my wife.

We received advice from some of those closest to us that we should abort the pregnancy to eliminate any risk of losing my wife to the complications which may arise. I felt so uncertain, so confused, so scared. If we decided to keep the pregnancy there were higher chances that things could go wrong and even be fatal, but at the same time we didn't want to abort the pregnancy and possibly eliminate an act of God, a miracle in our lives. We had to trust in the Lord and that He would show us the way.

My wife and I prayed together and felt that aborting the pregnancy was not what we should do. I laid my hands on my wife's head and found myself blessing her that both she and our baby would live and that all would be well. Nine months later we were blessed with a beautiful, healthy baby girl, Lucy Rose Hebdon. Her mother, my dear wife Jenny, was healthy as well.

To me, what we experienced was truly a miracle, and I am reminded of it each time I give our little miracle girl a big hug and a kiss. I felt the Hand of God guide and direct me when I was so uncertain in that moment when I needed Him most. I also felt the Hand of God as I was able to exercise my priesthood power, God's power, to provide a blessing of life and healing for those most dear to me.
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Hugging a Porcupine


We were feeling stuck. Our teenager seemed to fight everything. He was irritated, upset and said we didn’t support him.

There's a book series called How to Hug a Porcupine. Though I haven't read it, the title described our situation

I remembered that in these tense moments, we don't seem to resolve much. One of us needs a breather, a little bit of stillness perhaps. In a moment of quiet, I thought that maybe we needed more time, more reflection. What if I texted him?

I sent the first text—an olive branch of sorts. I acknowledged his frustration, and explained how I would like to know how I could better meet his needs. There was a long pause

And then a long text back. It was vulnerable. Honest. He could say things through a screen that he hadn't been able to say in person. He was uncertain, showing me the ways he was in pain.

I listened, thanked him, and related where I could. The conversation ended, leaving one of my questions hanging. And again, not much was resolved.

But the next day was a really nice day. It was like the heat was turned down in his interactions with everyone.

He’d smile, ask for advice, and just seemed more comfortable in his own skin. He seemed like himself.

A mama and her baby porcupine, hugging over text.
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24 Hours to Live


"I am living proof that God and Christ are real and still perform miracles. It was December 19, 1984 when me and 2 of my friends went hunting together. I was shot in the lower left abdominal with a 12 gage shot gun (number 6 bird shot). I lost half my stomach, part of both intestines, my spleen, 1 and a half left rib cage and half my left lung. I was 14 years of age when it happened. The doctor who did the operation told family that I would only live 24 hours. It has been the longest and most blessed 24 hours God could ever bless someone with, because I am 51 years of age now. I wasn't supposed to be able to work nor join the Army. I retired from the Army National Guard in June 2021 and have been working since I was 16. God and Christ are real and still perform miracles till this day and always will. I give this testimony in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen"
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An Impossible Parking Lot


I had been looking for a parking place in the grocery store parking lot—-which was always full—-and hunting and pecking for an open space was always potluck. I had been up and down the three rows several times, when I saw a car one row away leaving. I had to speed down the lane I was in and do a 180 degree turn into the lane with the opening. The now-empty space was two-thirds of the distance I had to travel, and I was anxious when I saw a car enter the lane from the other end. That driver had only half as far as I did to get to the space. I gunned my accelerator but could tell that getting there in time was hopeless. Virtually immediately I started fuming that here I had been paying a price hunting for a slot and this interloper, this sudden intruder, had just arrived and was going to be able to park without any sacrifice of time at all! I decided that, whether life was “fair” or not, I was not going to just surrender to the unfairness of it all.

I slammed on my brakes as I neared the now-occupied parking stall and slid my car so that it blocked the newly arrived “parker” from behind. I got out of my car and slammed my car door just as the woman who had robbed me of a deserved reward was getting out of her car. Her back was to me as I stormed forward. I inhaled preparatory to blasting her with a verbal condemnation for her thoughtlessness. As she turned around, I saw that she was my favorite aunt (who I was supposed to have visited once I had arrived for the new semester three weeks ago). Instantly I threw open my arms, cried out with joy, ‘Aunt Mary! How good to see you!’

We had a long enough conversation that I was startled to hear the tap tap of the horn of the car next to where Aunt Mary had parked. My car was blocking hers. The driver rolled down her window and said, ‘You guys look like you are having fun, but if you will back up and let me out, I am willing to give up this space for your car.’ With a mischievous smile, she also said, ‘Otherwise, I will get really grumpy and spoil your day.’ I started laughing and thanked her and got out of the way and got a parking place as well. After talking too long to Aunt Mary, and after she left, it dawned on me that if the girl in the car had been as grumpy with me as I was preparing to be with that once-anonymous woman who had stolen my spot, things would not have ended well.
When about to explode after her parking spot is taken, a women discovers things are not as they seem.

Anything Helps


Recently, I saw a man sitting at the side of the road on his motorcycle. He was holding up a sign saying that anything would help. The following week, I saw the same man on the same motorcycle at the same place holding up the same sign. This time, however, the Spirit said, "Pull over in the parking lot and talk with him." So, I did.

I came up from behind him and asked what the problem was for which he needed help. He said he had gotten a flat tire and that he was trying to get up the money to repair the tire and get back on his way to his sister's place in Washington State. I asked how much he still needed. I could afford to help him out. Then the words just came tumbling out of my mouth, "Are you hungry?" "Yes!" said he. "You like Subway?" "YEAH!" "What's your favorite sandwich?" "Spicy Italian." "Mine, too! What do you want on it? What kind of bread?" He told me how he'd like it and what he'd like to drink. I left, got the money he needed from my bank and picked up our sandwiches and drinks.

As we sat in my car eating our feast, I told him that I was a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and that the Holy Spirit had directed my actions that day. He said, "I'm LDS, too! At least, my mom raised me LDS. She was the best, sweetest lady ever." Then the Spirit whispered, "Your Heavenly Father sent me here today to remind you that He knows you, He loves you, and He'll take care of your needs." We both started to tear up. It was a wonderful, shared moment of peace and joy.

The next day, he called me and said that the repairs were made, and he would let me know when he had arrived at his sister's home. He said that he had a job waiting there for him and that he'd be alright. He thanked me again and promised to keep in touch. I've heard back from him once since then, shortly after he'd arrived at his sister's place. I hope he is doing well.

Father in Heaven knows each one of us by name and knows to the minute, what our needs are. He loves us and will help us, even if we don't even know that it's Him helping us. I am grateful that I got to be used as an instrument of good in God's hands that day.

May God bless us all, everyone.

- Jake Huff
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