Let me share a story from my treasure chest about why I know this is Jesus Christ’s own Church and that he prospers it.

I went to Honduras on a mission. It was considered a third-world country and the second-poorest country in the Western Hemisphere. And trust me—a lot of it looked like it came straight from those starving kid magazine ads. But also, a lot of it was beautiful, and the people captured my heart.

Only 1% of the people in Honduras had telephones or cars. There were very few nice roads – if you were outside one of the major cities, it was quite tropical and jungle-y.

The mission president decided to open up a small settlement area near Chamelecón. He sent two elders and two sisters (me).

Something went wrong with the elders’ transfer, so it ended up with just Hermana Flores (a native Honduran) and me.

There were a few members there, and they officially started a branch. The branch president was 19 years old and had been a member for a year.

Think about the prospects of that. AND he was kind of immature/goofy and not really an inspiring leader.

My companion was a convert, and I came from an inactive family and didn’t have a whole lot of background.

We were it. None of us had experience with how to make it work, what to do, what meetings to hold, or how to move forward.

There we were – out in the middle of jungle nowhere. Like as primitive of a no where as you can possibly imagine. No phone, no way to contact anyone. And this kid who was admittedly, somewhat juvenile for his age leading the effort. I really don’t think he ever had a lot of guidance for what a branch president did.

To top it off, that was the place I got dengue and scabies. (Yes, it’s excruciating to get rid of.) Both of them were horrid, awful experiences. But we never quit.

I fully knew we were all out of our depths.

That thing should have struggled through some good-hearted, well-meaning attempts and then fizzled and died. Chamelecón had no external support and nothing going for it—not in the least.

But it flew.

That’s just not a probable outcome.

It was unexplainable how that could happen. I marveled as it just took off without any real structure or foundation. Everything that needed to happen, happened at just the right time, both with people and local resources. The branch grew and became a recognizable organization.

No one did anything big enough or skilled enough to achieve that outcome.

One night, at a branch party, I watched as people were eating, dancing and having a great time. I stood there and surveyed the scene and realized how miraculous it was – this group of new saints who came together, worshiped together and made a real functioning, solid branch that you would recognize as part of our Church.

It was amazing to be there in that moment and witness a beautiful spot of Zion being born.

I knew firsthand what I saw was an assisted miracle. And I knew it had nothing to do with the kid president, myself or my companion – but rather, it was mentored and prospered by unseen hands and mini-miracles until it was strong enough to function like any other branch.

The Lord is perfectly at home with the weak and the simple because He can do the rest.

It was at that dance party, that was the moment I would deeply comprehend it really WAS the Lord’s Church. He ran it – it was His. I knew He intentionally wanted it there, even in the middle of nowhere.

Behold, hath the Lord commanded any that they should not partake of his goodness? Behold I say unto you, Nay; but all men are privileged the one like unto the other, and none are forbidden. (2 Nephi 26:28)

It’s a treasured memory, for sure.