Testimony is not only meant to be gained. It is meant to be preserved. This the scriptures teach us. When we record the experiences that built our faith in Jesus Christ, we create a sacred witness for those who will come after us. In doing so, we are not simply writing memories; we are leaving a testimony that can teach, strengthen, and guide our posterity long after we are gone.
“Your testimony will be a joy as you see it replicated in your children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren and in those you love and serve. It will be powerful when you share it and use it to testify.”1 — Elder Kevin G. Brown
On Fast Sunday, we gather with humble hearts and willing spirits. One by one, we approach the pulpit and bear simple, sacred truths: that the Church is true, that Joseph Smith is a prophet, that a Prophet of God leads us today, that Jesus Christ is our Savior and Redeemer. These testimonies are powerful. They are pure. They are offered in faith and received by the Spirit.
Because many desire to share, we are encouraged to keep our words brief and to the point. This is good. It allows space for many voices and many witnesses.
But I have come to feel that while brevity blesses the meeting, it is not meant to define the full expression of our testimony.
A more quiet, personal place is found where our testimony is meant to grow, expand, and be preserved. That place is in the record we leave behind for our posterity.
For Our Posterity, Stories Matter
“[T]here is one readily accessible area where we can absolutely know, . . . It is gaining a testimony of the Restored Gospel of Jesus Christ. Nothing — literally nothing — is of greater importance.”2 — Joni Hilton
We strive to testify with sincerity and understanding that Jesus is the Christ, the only begotten son of our Heavenly Father, our Savior and Redeemer. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is His kingdom upon the Earth.
Yet, how did I come to this knowledge?
Was it a single experience?
A lifelong journey?
Or both?
A simple statement —“I know God answers prayers”— is true and powerful. But a story of the night you prayed in desperation or spoke one simple word such as HELP! The time a quiet impression that came, and the way the answer unfolded over time — that story teaches faith in a way a single word or sentence cannot.
Our children and grandchildren will not only need to know what we believed. They will need to understand how we came to believe it.
They will need our journey.
A Simple Story from My Journey
Our journey often begins in small and simple ways. Faith is rarely born in a moment of grandeur. More often, it grows quietly — through a scripture read, a prayer offered, or a feeling recognized.
For me, faith began in a small and simple way.
When I was seven years old, I wandered into our food storage closet in the basement to fetch something. The door stood open within my sight, but I did not realize it had come off its hinges and was leaning against the wall. As I turned to leave, I must have brushed it with my foot, and suddenly it fell on top of me, knocking me to the floor.
I struggled beneath its weight, trying to free myself, but I never called out. Fear settled in, quiet and heavy. Yet even in that moment, though I spoke no words, my heart reached upward.
Within moments, I heard my Uncle Buck’s voice. He came upon me, lifted the door, and set me free. I remember his smile — and the overwhelming relief that filled my small heart.
That experience became more than a childhood memory. It became a foundation.
In that moment, I learned something I could not yet fully articulate: Heavenly Father hears and answers the desires of our hearts. Even unspoken ones.
Over time, that simple experience expanded into a deeper understanding. I came to know that God does not require perfect words — He responds to sincere hearts. I learned that answers do not always come in the way we expect, but they do come.
That small moment became part of my testimony.
And it is precisely the kind of moment worth recording.
Although my story was not a dramatic conversion like Alma the Younger, his story teaches us that conversion unfolds into a lifetime of faithful growth. His transformation did not end with a single miraculous moment. Nor did mine with a simple moment. They continued as we taught, served, and bore witness again and again.
Our own stories may be more quiet and simple than Alma the Younger’s. But they are no less sacred.
We can record the early moments when belief first stirred within us. We can write of the times when faith felt small but real. We can record the moment when we asked, “Is it true?”
I have asked this questions several times. Reflection and my journals have answered it for me. Journals of sacred experiences are not only for posterity, but for our own reflection as well.
President Eyring made this suggestions: “You could ask yourself, ‘How did God bless me today?’ If you do that long enough and with faith, you will find yourself remembering blessings. And sometimes you will have gifts brought to your mind which you failed to notice during the day, but which you will then know were a touch of God’s hand in your life.”
The Book of Mormon’s Purposes
“Wherefore, the things which are pleasing unto the world I do not write, but the things which are pleasing unto God and unto those who are not of the world. . . I shall give commandment unto my seed, that they shall not occupy these plates with things which are not of worth unto the children of men.” (See 1 Nephi 6)
The scriptures themselves teach us the pattern of writing the important things for our posterity. The Book of Mormon is not a collection of brief declarations. It is a record of lives — of journeys, struggles, questions, and revelations. Prophets did not simply say, “I know.” They showed how they came to know.
Consider the book 1 Nephi. Nephi did not merely testify that the Lord leads His people. He told of leaving Jerusalem, of praying to know if his father Lehi’s words were true, of the rebellion of his brothers and uncertainty of the wilderness, of returning for the plates, of building a ship, and of learning, step by step, to trust in the Lord. Through his story, we see not only his testimony — but the formation of it.
That is the pattern. Testimony is not only declared. It is developed, lived, and recorded.
Using this pattern outlined by Nephi, I decided to write, or rather began writing by way of reflection, “The Small Plates of Tanya.” I haven’t decided whether or not to make it a separate record of my life story or to blend them into one. The important message is that I began.
Chapters of Struggle and Frustration Can Lead to Growth
Obedience to the principles of the Savior’s gospel brings true happiness we are told. Yet, it does not relieve us of opportunities to grow which at times can be quite uncomfortable, even painful. When we seek direction in our life and face the choices that follow, we may question whether this was right, especially when things become difficult or seemingly impossible. Frustration or lack of ability may follow, giving us an opening to quit or to question whether a choice was really inspired, even whether a righteous desire was worth it.
President Eyring shared this story: “Long ago I sought to learn physics and mathematics in my college years. I felt overwhelmed. I began to feel that I was trying to learn something that was beyond me. The more I felt overwhelmed, the less I felt the strength to keep trying. My discouragement led me to feel that my efforts were almost fruitless. I began to think of quitting, of doing something easier.
“I felt weak. As I prayed, I felt the quiet assurance of the Lord. I felt Him say to my mind, ‘I am proving you, but I am also with you.’
“I did not know then all that those words meant. But I knew what to do—I went to work. . . By pondering and working during the years that followed, I came to understand this message of encouragement in the scriptures: ‘I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.’3
“I learned that my struggle with physics was actually a gift from the Lord. He was teaching me that with His help, I could do things that seemed impossible if I had the faith that He would be there to help me. Through this gift, the Lord was working to prove and strengthen me.”
Let Our Records Testify Difficult Times Can Lead to Sacred Experiences Through Applying Gospel Principles
“Dark and difficult times lie ahead. Soon we must all face the choice between what is right and what is easy. But remember this: You have friends here. You’re not alone.”4 – Albus Dumbledore
Faith is not strengthened in ease alone; more often, it is refined in the very moments we would not choose. Seasons of uncertainty, of waiting, of quiet pleading before the Lord shape us in ways we only come to understand with time. These are the sacred spaces where faith is stretched and made sure.
I love the story of Esther. Esther stands as a written witness of such faith — faith lived through the gospel principles of fasting and prayer, marked by faith, courage, leadership, and holy resolve.
Esther did not know the outcome of her actions. She moved forward with quiet courage, trusting that she had been prepared “for such a time as this.” Her story is not merely one of deliverance — it is a testimony of choosing faith in the presence of fear, of acting when the way was not yet revealed, and applying the spiritual principles she had been taught. Esther marched forward in faith while she and her people fasted and prayed for three days. Then it was “written” for all generations to be remembered.
“And that these days should be remembered and kept throughout every generation, every family, every province, and every city; and that these days of Purim should not fail from among the Jews, nor the memorial of them perish from their seed… according as Mordecai the Jew and Esther the queen had enjoined them… the matters of the fastings and their cry… And the decree of Esther confirmed these matters of Purim; and it was written in the book.” (See The Book of Esther 9:28-32.)
So too in our lives, there are moments when we step forward without knowing, when we trust God before we see. These experiences are worthy of record—the fasts offered in humility, the prayers poured out in faith, the answers that come in ways both expected and unforeseen. As we write them, we preserve not only what the Lord has done, but who we are becoming through Him.
What did I ask for?
What did I feel?
How did the answer come — and how did I recognize it?
We can acknowledge that sometimes the answer came swiftly. Sometimes it unfolded slowly, almost imperceptibly; so slow we couldn’t see it without continuing reassurance. And sometimes the answer was not what we expected, but became, in time, something greater than we had imagined.
Such was the case with Nephi.
He was “led by the Spirit, not knowing beforehand the things which [he] should do. Nevertheless, [he] went forth…” in faith. What began as an act of faithful obedience, by returning for the plates of brass and keeping his own record, became something much more than he could have seen in that moment. (See 1 Nephi 4:6-7)
Through that willingness, the Lord was preparing a work that would reach far beyond Nephi’s own life. As he later recorded, the Lord would “proceed to do a marvelous work among the Gentiles,” a work of great worth not only to his own seed, but to the Gentiles, and ultimately to all the house of Israel, making known the covenants of the Father where “[i]n thy seed shall all the kindreds of the earth be blessed.” (See 1 Nephi 22:8-9)
What Nephi could not fully see then, we now witness.
And so it is with us.
What may feel like a small act of faith, a quiet prompting followed or a simple record kept may not amount to much. Yet, it can become part of something far greater — blessing not only our posterity, but countless others in ways we cannot yet understand.
Stories Teach Our Posterity How Heaven Speaks
Sharing these stories can also affect people today whom we do not know, nor may ever meet.
In a recent Meridian article, A Young Sister Missionary Testifies of the Word That Changes Everything 5, Jocelyn Osmond begins with a simple yet powerful invitation: “Let me tell you a story.”
Jocelyn then takes us back, before this life, to the council in heaven. She reminds us who we are, where we came from, and the choice we made to follow the Savior. From that sacred beginning, she gently brings us forward into her own life—into her struggles, her feelings of inadequacy, and the quiet wrestle of becoming.
And yet, despite all of that, her story does not end in doubt. It culminates in willingness; a willingness to say yes, to answer the Lord’s call, and a willingness to trust that He qualifies those He calls.
There is something deeply instructive in the way Jocelyn shares her testimony. She does not begin with a declaration. She begins with a story. And through that story, her testimony unfolds naturally, powerfully, and personally.
Writing Helps Us Begin to See More Clearly the Hand of the Lord in Our Lives
We remember moments when we were taught humility, when our will was gently, or sometimes firmly, shaped into His. We recall impressions from the Holy Ghost that guided us, warned us, comforted us, or invited us to act.
Over time, what once felt uncertain becomes familiar. We learn the language of the Spirit. We gain confidence not in ourselves alone, but in our ability to hear Him.
Recording these moments allows our posterity to recognize that:
- Revelation is real.
- Revelation is available to them.
- And they too can learn the language of the Spirit.
As we search, we find foundational truths that deserve more than a single sentence.
We can write of our witness of Jesus Christ — not only that He lives, but how we have felt His redeeming power. Consider the questions such as: When have I been forgiven? When have I been lifted? When have I felt His grace carry me when I could not move forward on my own?
We can record how we came to know that Joseph Smith was a prophet. We can share our experiences with the Book of Mormon — the questions it has answered, the peace it has brought, and the witness it has given.
We can bear testimony of living prophets and describe how following their counsel has shaped and blessed our lives.
These are not just statements. They are spiritual milestones. Even our experiences with General Conference can become part of this sacred record.
You may contemplate:
- Which talks changed me?
- What promptings did I receive?
- What did I do because I felt them?
When we record not only what we heard, but how we acted upon those words, we create a pattern of discipleship that others can follow.
In this way, we begin to understand our place in something larger. We are not only individuals moving through life. We are part of a sacred chain — connected to those who came before us and responsible to those who will come after us.
We are the bridge between ancestors and descendants, progenitors and posterity.
Those before us left what they could — sometimes too little, sometimes much. We, in turn, have the opportunity to leave more than names and dates. We can leave faith. We can leave testimony. We can leave a witness of the living God active in our daily lives.
This work does not require flawlessness. It requires willingness.
We can begin simply: A journal entry after a meaningful experience. A letter to a child or grandchild. for A written memory of a time the Lord answered a prayer.
We might ask ourselves:
- When did I first feel that God knew me?
- When has my faith been tested—and what did I learn?
- When have I clearly seen the Lord’s hand in my life?
Line upon line, our testimony takes shape — not only written upon our hearts, but on the page for ourselves to remember and for posterity to see.
Conclusion
On Fast Sunday, we will continue to stand and declare what we know. These brief testimonies will remain sacred and important. But beyond the pulpit, in the quiet places of our lives, we are invited to do more than that to stand as a witness that Jesus is the Christ.
Like Nephi, we can write with the intention of leaving our testimony for future generations.
Not just that we believe — but how we came to believe. Not just that God lives — but how He has walked with us throughout our mortal journey.
In doing so, we will leave our posterity something enduring: not only our words, but our witness — alive in story, rooted in experience, and filled with faith.
“May your testimony be described in this same way. Though ‘heaven and earth shall pass away,’ your testimony and witness of the gospel of Jesus Christ will not pass away. Now is the time to lay hold on this precious gift. In the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.”6 Elder Kevin G. Brown
