Today's Miracle Monday, submitted by Sister Diana Houlihan, is a testimony about how God drew her to Him with mercy and love over time.

I was an evangelist's daughter. That might give you the impression I was raised in our church and never missed a single meeting. Your impression would be absolutely right on target. This didn't stop me from making every bad decision possible. You see, I didn't understand about Jesus at all or even the plan of salvation.

Dad was a stubborn man, very firm in his beliefs, and he wouldn't budge on anything he believed in. I, being a true Alessandro, followed in his footsteps. (Well, the stubborn part of it, anyway.) Throughout my teens and into my twenties, I wandered into and saw the rawer side of life. It wasn't until I hit my own personal bottom that I realized something had to change.

Today's article by Sister Stefanie Callens is another installment in the series, "The Day He Found Me."

In a few days on Sept. 21, it will be 22 years since I surrendered unto the Lord. I cannot believe how quickly time goes by!

I was at an Atlantic Coast Area Campout in New Jersey. At 14 years old, my plan was to hang out with my friends and maybe talk to some of the cute boys who were going to be there. As we were roasting marshmallows that Saturday night, my friend, the late Sister Stephanie Crupi, and I were talking with my dad and a couple other ministers about why we had to actually be called to get baptized.

We went to church on Sundays, prayed, and followed the Lord's teachings. Why couldn't we just be baptized then and there? Instead of preaching to us, the brothers simply told us to pray about it. If we woke up in the morning and the first thought we had was baptism, then we were being called, and that would be our day.

Today's article by Sister Colleen Moore is another installment in the series, "The Day He Found Me."

It was a cold, windy day on the morning of November 7, 1993. I had just recently turned 14 years old and I was in the eighth grade. I was just a kid. But, my heart's desire was to serve God and I had been praying about baptism. I had made it a matter of prayer and had asked God to show me a sign. I wanted something to reveal to me that the Lord was calling me.

While we were in church singing that day, I remember feeling a tug on my heart and feeling emotional. I prayed and asked God to send me a sign if He was calling me. The very next song that we sang was “Shall We Gather At The River.” That was my sign! We seemed to only sing that song at baptisms! I knew He was calling me, and I burst into tears as I felt His Spirit.

Today's article by Brother P. is another installment in the series, "The Day He Found Me."

I grew up in The Church of Jesus Christ. I was taught that one day I would feel the calling of God and would have to make a decision about whether or not I would accept that call and get baptized.

I was at a region campout when I felt that call, decided to get baptized, and was.

Today's Miracle Monday is a testimony of God's protection on the littlest among us, submitted by Sister Michelle Watson.

One Friday morning, my 4-year-old son, Henry, was watching me drink a cup of coffee. We talked about how hot it was and that it could burn if you weren't careful. For some reason, I told Henry about how a cup of hot coffee spilled on his Uncle Ryan's head when he was a little boy. Ryan should've been badly burned, but God protected him, and he came away from the incident without a mark on him. (You can read that miracle story here.)

Today's article by Brother Rich Nath is another installment in the series, "The Day He Found Me."

June 20, 1993, GMBA Campout at Antiochian Village in Ligonier, PA. That’s the day the Lord called me. The story actually begins the day before. Someone told me, “You know, they preach baptism at camp.” I laughed and said, “That’s the furthest thing from my mind. I’m going to play football with the guys.” The priorities of a 15-year-old aren’t always what we would hope them to be. I admit that when I left for camp that Saturday afternoon, baptism was nowhere near the top of my priority list.

Sunday morning at camp, we had a very nice meeting, and the young people sang a few songs. The only one I remember was, “A New Name Written Down in Glory.” Throughout the day, that song stuck with me, but I didn’t think anything of it. It was a catchy tune, and I kept humming it. We had dinner, and I got ready for the evening meeting.

Today's article by Sister Natalie Shawver is another installment in the series, "The Day He Found Me."

I never really had any doubts that I would one day make a decision to join The Church of Jesus Christ.

Born into the Gospel and raised by godly parents, I wanted to make a commitment like they had — and also welcome true joy into my life. I never questioned whether it was the right choice to make or not; I simply just wanted to ensure I was making it at the right time, as it isn’t something to be taken lightly.

In 2002, the Cincinnati Branch was blessed to host a Youth In Action (YIA) tour. Many young brothers and sisters from around the country came to spend a week with us passing out fliers, inviting the community to various events we held, and uplifting our small group. I was fortunate to meet new friends and spend a week with others who held the same beliefs as me (even though I wasn’t baptized yet).

Today's article by Sister Mallory Batson is the first one in our fall series called, "The Day He Found Me." For the next few weeks, you'll hear stories from our columnists of how they asked for their baptisms. We hope that these articles inspire you to think back on the day you were baptized — or forward to the day you will make the commitment.

How will I know that it’s my time?

That is the one question about baptism I could never get answered to my satisfaction. What I heard most was “You’ll just know,” and for someone as analytical as me, that answer drove me crazy.

The day I asked for my baptism, I wasn’t thinking about baptism at all. It was Sunday at GMBA conference in Greensburg, Pennsylvania, and frankly, I was only there to see my friends. I had met some of my very best friends at campout the year prior, and I asked my parents to take me anywhere I knew they would be.

Today's Miracle Monday is a touching story of family and heritage submitted by Sister KarenJo Pandone.

I just finished reading a Gospel Blog article that I related to very personally. I was reminded of when the Lord explained to me who I was in this world.

I was adopted as a 6-week-old infant and became the daughter of two loving parents who couldn’t have children. Brother Joe and Sister Rose Milantoni raised me in a loving home where I never wanted for anything. I knew from the moment I could understand that I was adopted. They always associated it with a positive twist: “They CHOSE me,” and “God GAVE me to them,” and “I was their ADOPTED sweetheart,” all of which made me feel very special — so much so that I would go up to perfect strangers and proudly announce, “I’m adopted!”

"And they brought young children to Him, that He should touch them: and His disciples rebuked those that brought them. But when Jesus saw it, He was much displeased, and said unto them, Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God. Verily I say unto you, Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, he shall not enter therein." (Mark 10:13-15)

The above verses, though short, give us so much in terms of what Jesus was trying to teach when He was on Earth. The final remark says it all, that we must become as little children in order to enter into His kingdom. Basically, we need to love like them, rely upon our Heavenly Father like they rely on their parents, and have faith like them.

I have been made a very proud father as I have witnessed the faith my son has in the power of prayer. He’ll be 6 in mid-July, and he’s seen the power of God in his young life multiple times, and he is quick to ask me to pray with him or for him.

Today's Miracle Monday takes the form of a testimony. Brother George A. Kovacic shares his experiences serving as a missionary to Oklahoma.

It was a hot summer day, and I was a teenager, newly baptized, handing out leaflets with a very unusual message for most of the people I was giving them to. It was the summer of 1969, and I was in Anadarko, Oklahoma, with my grandfather, Evangelist Timothy Dominic Bucci.

We were going through the camp at the Indian Exposition sharing the message of the coming American Indian Moses. For me at the time, it was a sight to see — thousands of native people camped out for days on end.

Today's Miracle Monday is a testimony from Sister Lydia Zaino in response to our question, "How has God helped your children?"

God has blessed my family in so many ways I could never repay Him, but since we are speaking about children, I would like to share with you one of God's blessings that he did for our son, Michael, when he was about 4 years old and in preschool.

We had a meeting with his teacher, and she told us that he wasn't speaking in class at all and that he would sit in the corner very content by himself and would not intermingle with the other kids. He would hardly answer the teachers and would just keep his head down. She was very concerned about him and wanted to have him tested for various things.

For today's Miracle Monday, we're sharing more of a testimony than an experience. A sister in The Church told this story in response to the question, "When in your life did you have to choose between conforming to the world and being transformed by God? What did you learn?"

The sister shared about when she moved away from home for the first time to go to college. She lived in the dorms during her first semester in school, and she soon got to know all the girls who lived in her strip of hallway.

These girls habitually asked her to go out with them in the evenings to have a little fun, and one night, after declining several previous requests, she decided to join them. When they got to their destination, our sister felt so uncomfortable and out of place that she left and went back to the dorms. She wanted to be friendly with her fellow students, but she realized that she didn't want to do the things that they were doing.

For today's Miracle Monday, we reached out to Sister Rosanne and Brother Larry Champine and asked them to share some of the stories behind several of the songs that the Lord has given them. This particular story is about the song "We Shall Sing on the Mountain of the Lord."

I was raised in another faith with a limited understanding of the scriptures. As a member of a family band, music was a very important part of my life, but before I met The Church Of Jesus Christ and made my commitment to serve the Lord, I was never able to compose an original song.

When I joined The Church and accepted the Restored Gospel, words and melodies — many about my conversion and new relationship with the Lord — began to come forth in wonderful ways. As I was learning and growing, I had a great desire to understand the latter day promises, so I began to prayerfully study them. I became most impressed with Romans 14:11, "For it is written, As I live, saith the Lord, every knee shall bow to me, and every tongue shall confess to God."

Today's article was originally published by the Student Support Program in May 2013. Click here to read the full newsletter.

"Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son." (Luke 15:21)

The tale of the prodigal son is as universal as any of Jesus’ parables and is an important story about the Lord’s unfaltering and all-encompassing love for us. For me, this parable recalls my early college years as a young man searching for true happiness.

I grew up with the full knowledge and truth of The Church of Jesus Christ but was always reluctant to commit myself to a life of righteousness. I lived nearly two hours away from the nearest branch; I was ready to start college, and my 18-year-old self decided to not commit.