“I Expected Miracles,” Tambuli, Oct. 1993, 33
Sometimes I like to make things bigger than they really are. I like to imagine that my life is more exciting and that some spectacular, dramatic event will happen to me that will change everything.
Perhaps that’s why it always frustrated me that when I said my prayers I didn’t get a big, warm feeling or see visions. I believed the gospel was true because practically everyone I knew said so. My life revolved around the Church. How could it not be true? But I wanted to feel something. A voice out of nowhere telling me, “The Church is, without a doubt, true,” wouldn’t have been disappointing. I guess I expected miracles from the gospel. With tear-filled eyes, I prayed to Heavenly Father, but nothing seemed to happen.
Then one night I felt a sudden need to read the scriptures. As I read in Mosiah, an increasing happiness burned inside me. It told how, after hearing King Benjamin speak, the people were overcome with the Spirit of the Lord. And it “wrought a mighty change in us, or in our hearts, that we have no more disposition to do evil, but to do good continually” (Mosiah 5:2).
That’s what the Spirit is, I thought—the feeling of love when you choose the right, the warm reassurance to keep making good choices. I had felt it all along but didn’t recognize it.
I know that our Heavenly Father listens to us. Although sometimes we don’t acknowledge the answers until we understand them, he does answer our prayers.