Of One Heart by Valerie Steimle

From the back cover:
In the LDS world (or the world of The Church Of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints) most adults are married with children. It has only been in the last ten years that being single in the church has become much more common. Unfortunately, marriages are failing everywhere and there are now one third of the adults at church who are single.

This book was written to help all those who are single, all those who have single friends and all those priesthood leaders with single members under their jurisdiction. I have written this book to help others understand what it is like to be single and included writings from other singles on how they feel about being single.

When I got married, my mother-in-law was single. My father-in-law had passed away 4 years earlier from an extended illness. She would remark how much she enjoyed being with her kids, but she was still lonely. Nothing could fill the void left by my father-in-law. Though she was encouraged to attend single adult activities, she didn't feel comfortable.

In the Church, it is difficult to be single when so much emphasis is placed on being married and having a family. Many sisters, and brothers, are single for various reasons. If you know any single LDS members this book would be a great gift.

We should all seek to help our single bothers and sisters feel the love of the Savior and realize they are just as important to this great work as those who are married.

You can find Valerie's wonderful book at Amazon.

Through Small and Simple Means

Last weekend we baptized our eighth child. He was so excited for his baptism.

We planned the baptism and included most members of our family. Our youngest son wasn’t formally on the program, but we knew he’d be loud enough to participate in his own way . One of my daughters spoke on baptism. I was very proud of her. She brought some visual aids to complement her talk, including a tube of diaper rash cream to symbolize the pain relief that repentance brings. She also showed a white paper that represented no sins, a paper that had lots of squiggles on it to represent mistakes we make, and then told us that after baptism our sins are washed away and through repentance we can have the white paper represent our lives. She also showed a fuzzy white blanket and likened it to how the Holy Ghost feels—warm and soft. It was an excellent talk.

Another son spoke on the Holy Ghost and how it can help us in so many ways, including protecting us and teaching us the truth. He shared some quotes. I was proud of him for preparing his talk, too.

Two of our daughters sang, Scripture Power, and other daughters gave the prayers. My son was baptized by his oldest brother, who returned from his mission to Italy last summer. My husband then confirmed my son and gave him the gift of the Holy Ghost. It was such a spiritual meeting. The bishop was choked up a bit when he asked my son to stand and bear his testimony. My son said, “Being baptized feels great. I’m so happy I could be baptized.” It was such a sweet experience.

Unbeknownst to me, my son had invited his elementary school teacher. She is not a member of the Church, but she really likes my son and decided to attend because it was important to him. She actually arrived an hour early because we’d miscommunicated the time (she lives more than 30 miles away from us). As she entered the building, my children and their cousins accosted her because she’d taught some of them last year. They all snuggled up to her during the service.
My son was thrilled to see his teacher and gave her lots of hugs to prove it. I’m sure he will always remember she attended his baptism. I was impressed that she made such an effort to come. After the service, we were visiting in the foyer about the baptism. I thanked her for coming and she said, “I was glad to. You could just feel something in there.” Then it clicked. She’d felt the Holy Ghost witness to her the truth. She’d felt his presence. From a simple child’s invitation to his baptism, she experienced the Holy Ghost. What will happen from here? I don’t know, but I do know she felt the Spirit. Attending my son’s baptism was a good experience and, perhaps, it will ignite a desire in her to learn more about the gospel. At the very least, she will remember this experience with a warm feeling.

Through small and simple means, like an invitation to a baptism, great and powerful things can happen. Of course, I hope she’ll want to know more and discover the pure joy and happiness that only the gospel can provide, but for now I’m thankful she felt the Spirit. Even more, I’m so grateful my young son was inspired enough to invite her.

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My Beginnings

Like most, my testimony started as a tiny seed.

By the time I was 9 years old, both of my parents had died and my sister and I lived with our maternal grandparents. Both of my grandparents were members of the LDS Church, but neither was active. My grandmother simply fell out of activity, while my grandfather nursed deep-seeded bitterness toward the Church.

One day, I was riding in the car with Grandma and we passed a white brick building with a tall steeple. I asked her about the building and she replied that she was a member of the Church. I asked if we could attend. Almost as soon as we stepped into the building that next Sunday, we were assigned a home teacher.
I started attending Primary, was soon baptized, and spent the next 10 years attending church at that building.

I recently returned to that same building and attended sacrament meeting. It was an incredible experience as I stepped into the building where it all began for me. I walked through the patio where I spent my Primary years, including the room where I attended junior Sunday school and the priests blessed and passed the sacrament to the children.

I saw the baptismal font where I stepped into the waters of baptism and began my new life as a member of the LDS Church.
I
reminisced as I looked at the room where we held seminary. Admittedly, I spent some of my seminary time passing notes to my friends, but I also learned about the gospel every morning before school.

I walked across the highly-polished wood floor listening to my footsteps echo. I could almost see all of us as teenagers as we practiced for a road show about family pictures and for a dance festival we performed one summer in the Rose Bowl in Los Angeles. I could envision all the ward dinners I’d attended with Grandma, and her dish holder bag in which we brought our own dishes to dinners.

I sat in the chapel and remembered so many talks and watching the young men bless and pass the sacrament. I remembered singing and feeling the Spirit. I remembered my friends and the good influence they had on me as a youth.
This was where it all started, where I first gained my testimony, and where I continued to feed it. This is where I first felt the love of my Savior. At times, I could almost feel His arms wrap around me while I struggled during my teenage years.

Many years have passed since then. I’ve worked hard to strengthen my testimony. I don’t know everything about the scriptures, Church history, or the gospel. I’m still learning every day to be a better person and to more fully live the gospel. Line upon line, I’m learning to be more like my Savior, Jesus Christ.

But, this I know. My Savior lives and He loves even me, a simple, unimportant woman. I know that He willingly laid down His life for me. I know that He is real and someday, He will return in glory to this earth. I cannot deny what has been witnessed to my soul, that He lives. I will spend my life trying to become like Him so that when my time is over in mortality, I can run to His outstretched arms and He will hold me close and whisper in my ear, “Welcome home.”

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