If you want a motto for your everyday interactions with other people, here it is. Let's think about how we can all apply today's Good Word in our day-to-day lives.

Today's article is another installment in Brother P.'s column, "Lessons From the Nursing Home."

As you may have heard (unless you are new to the Gospel Blog) my career involves getting people to walk in a nursing home. Often times, it is tempting to tell the resident whom I am walking with all the things that they need to fix while walking.

Receiving or assuming a new name is typically indicative of some major change in a person's life — a change for which the former name no longer is totally suitable or sufficient to describe the new status that the person has entered.

At the very least, each of us received a new name when we were born. That name replaced the generic term, "the baby," or the default name ("Baby Boy Doe") that would otherwise have been given at the hospital. Instead, the name we received identified us as part of a specific family.

Words mean a lot to me. My husband, Brother Justin, can attest to this — I often lovingly hint he can write me a letter instead of buying fancy perfume or chocolate. As a writer by profession, I find myself collecting meaningful phrases constantly. Here’s a sampling of those visible on my desk at the office:

While we are waiting, God is working.

Trials are preludes to blessings.

His ways > my ways

He’s never failed me; He’s never failed me, yet.

Today's Miracle Monday is a story of protection from Brother Tim Scolaro that puts an interesting perspective on life's mishaps.

We were going home from Southwest Campout on a holiday weekend with the family in our minivan. We had been driving for over three hours through rural mountains and desert on two-lane highways. Along this drive, there are many stretches of road where you don't see a building for over 30 minutes at a time. Also, we did not have cell phones with us. (There was no coverage in those remote areas even if we had.)

"For the wages of sin is death; but ..."

What comes next, Bible scholars?

"...the gift of God is eternal life..."

There's more! What comes next?

"...through Jesus Christ our Lord."

Romans 6:23 goes right along with today's Good Word from the previous chapter of Paul's letter. 

"Therefore being justified by ..."

• All of our good deeds
• How long we've been serving God
• The number of people we've led to Christ
• How much money we tithed

No. Being justified by faith, we have peace with God. Translation: Christ's sacrifice on our behalf satisfies God's justice, and we are no longer the sinful enemies of God but His repentant, devoted children.

Thank God for the plan of salvation through Jesus Christ!

This article has undergone ministry review and approval.

It's been a long time since I've heard No. 84 in The Songs of Zion, but I awoke to it the morning after praying that God would inspire me with an article. I began to read the words and realized that what I was singing wasn't the first verse but the second. As I read it, I thought about its meaning.

"I'll praise God forever,
my scales have been lifted,
He's given my eyes sight,
the shadows are gone."

Minister (verb): Attend to the needs of someone, care for, look after, help, assist, serve

People should take care of their families — perhaps that sounds like an obvious statement to say. Even as you read this, you may be getting ready to go off to work to earn money for your family. Perhaps you have chores to do today to help your household. Perhaps you have a sick or elderly family member you are caring for.

The vast majority of people assist their family in one way or another. This includes those who are servants of God as well as those who are not. Although caring for a family is not necessarily tied to serving God, it is something that any servant of God should take seriously — "ministering" to your family is not only the right thing to do, but it can also have spiritual ramifications.

"Do you have poopy in your diaper?" I'd ask my son, Henry.

"Nope! No poopy," he'd reply.

But, invariably, Henry would fail the sniff test, and in two minutes we'd be at the changing table taking care of business. Even though I knew he didn't fully understand me, I'd explain, "Henry, you have to tell me the truth."

Today's Miracle Monday comes to us from a personal account by Sister Marie McGuire. 

I gave birth to my first son, Mickey, on September 27, 1950. At the time, I was living with my in-laws in Missouri, while my husband, Harry, was serving in the Navy. After Mickey’s birth, the doctor came into my hospital room and told me that the baby had been born with a knot behind his ear about the size of a pea. He said the knot would grow rapidly in size. Naturally, as any first-time mother, I was very upset and frightened. I had no idea anything was wrong with my baby. He looked perfectly healthy.

When I was back at my in-laws with Mickey, I watched the knot closely. I noticed it had gotten larger — about the size of a nickel. On October 6, nine days after Mickey was born, the doctor paid a house call to see how the baby was doing. By this time, the mass had grown to the size of a quarter, and the doctor told me that they would have to perform surgery to remove it. They could not do surgery without my consent. It was imperative that I give him an answer immediately.

Have you ever seen someone who wasn't raised with faith come to the Lord? And then their family members follow? These people break the cycle, so to speak, and the entire trajectory of their family tree is forever changed — for the better!

I fly often. Whether for work or fun, flying has become a normal part of my life, and I've gotten pretty good at it. I secured global entry, TSA pre-check, and none of the liquids in my carry-on ever exceed 3 ounces. Like most people, I have common expectations the day I fly. I expect my flight to depart on time. I expect the pilot to get us safely to our destination. I even expect the free beverages to be offered the moment it's safe to move about the cabin. These expectations aren't unreasonable, but they sometimes go unfulfilled — like when you hear the dreaded words:

"Ladies and gentlemen, your flight has been delayed."

Alma 21 begins the story of another missionary trip among the Lamanite people. This time, the lead missionary is Aaron, another of the four sons of Mosiah. As the story begins, Aaron is preaching to the people, and he shares the testimony of that momentous day in his life when the angel of the Lord appeared to him and his brothers, resulting in their conversion to Christ.

However, not everyone in this particular congregation is especially impressed by this testimony. In fact, one of them gets up and angrily argues with Aaron, saying:

"What is this that thou hast testified? Hast thou seen an angel? Why do not angels appear unto us? Behold are not this people as good as thy people?" (Alma 21:5)

Once, I won a contest that sent our family to a Pittsburgh Pirates game in seats smack-dab behind the dugout. PNC Park is lauded as one of the most beautiful baseball stadiums in MLB, so there aren’t any bad seats, as the stunning Pittsburgh skyline envelops fans watching a favorite summer pastime. However, as the usher escorted us to our prize seats that night, we were all in stunned disbelief at our fortune to be so close to all the action. No camera zoom lens was needed. Each crack of the bat was sweeter. We could see and hear the coaches and players interact, and one player gently tossed our son a ball. The fireworks show was magnificent. It was truly a special night.

Those are the kind of seats we all dream about for big events featuring our favorite sports team or at a concert headlined by a musician we love. People are known to wait for hours for prime tickets to mega-popular events. And how about Black Friday shopping and what some people do to be first in line for a good deal?

Today's Miracle Monday is a testimony of healing by Sister Michelle Watson.

Picture in your mind an old black-and-white movie. There's a beautiful actress on screen, impeccably dressed in silk, makeup perfect, hair just so. She learns some astonishing news of one kind or another, and her heavy-lidded eyes flutter and close. She gracefully crumples to the floor like a flower in a dead faint.

A few days ago, I fainted — something I've done more than once in my life — but it looked nothing like the silver-screen version. I awoke in the middle of the night, so I was dressed in wrinkled pajamas, hair tangled, and I fell log-style onto my bathroom tile with a thunderous "Timber!" smacking the left side of my skull hard on the floor.