Gospel Story Finder

While Joseph Smith translated the golden plates out loud, Oliver Cowdery wrote the scriptures down. When they read about being baptized, they asked God how baptisms were supposed to happen. In answer to their prayer, John the Baptist came and gave them the Aaronic Priesthood and taught them. Joseph baptized Oliver, and then Oliver baptized Joseph. Later, Peter, James, and John gave Joseph and Oliver the Melchizedek Priesthood.

I asked one disillusioned man if he ever told his wife that he loved her. He said, “Yes.”

I then asked, “When was the last time you told her?”

“When I married her. She knows that I love her.”

“Perhaps she does, but she may wonder about it if you don’t tell her so many times every day.”

My brother, Andrew, my twin sister, Stephanie, and I were all raised by parents who sacrificed for us, taught us right and wrong, and, most importantly, taught us strong moral values. Nevertheless, I started to doubt my parents’ advice and beliefs around the beginning of my teenage years.
I made many poor choices, but one thing remained firm in my mind: a desire to know the truth in religion. I desired to know of God, so I turned to the intellectual pursuit of that knowledge and thought of myself as an agnostic.*
One year I spent hours pondering the meaning of life and the nature of God.
I pored over religious books and websites, learning about different religions and forming my own theories about God and His workings in our lives.
I wasn’t happy during that year, but I was too busy seeking more knowledge to realize it. I continued to make poor choices, which only widened the rift between my family and me. I felt lost.
I came to a point where I felt I had to make a life-ending or a life-starting decision. When I thought about making the life-ending choice, I remembered what a young man had given me almost four years earlier.
In the seventh grade, Sawyer had recognized my curiosity about God and had given me a Book of Mormon. Later, that Book of Mormon was sold in a garage sale. In tenth grade, he asked what I had done with the Book of Mormon. I had felt so bad about telling him it had been sold that when he invited me to go to Mutual or seminary with him, I agreed.
I went to seminary after having read all I could find about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, with a notepad full of questions intended to disprove it. Once there, as I read them, they were answered with kindness and certainty. I exhausted all my questions and gave up, resigned to the fact that there was something special about the Church.
The next Tuesday, I went to Mutual with Sawyer. He asked if I minded if the missionaries came over to talk to me. I didn’t fully understand the question, but I agreed to meet them.
During the discussion with the missionaries, I recounted the story of Joseph Smith and wanted to know the next step. It was a very Spirit-filled discussion, but I was lacking one thing. I told the missionaries I believed, and I thought I believed, but I didn’t truly understand what it meant. I continued to have discussions with the missionaries and to learn about Jesus Christ’s restored gospel.
There came a point, however, when I was overwhelmed with the storm of life, and I went to the missionaries for help. They showed me 3 Nephi 14:24–25:
“Therefore, whoso heareth these sayings of mine and doeth them, I will liken him unto a wise man, who built his house upon a rock—
“And the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house; and it fell not, for it was founded upon a rock.”
Once I heard those verses, my heart rejoiced, and I felt the storm lessen. I asked the missionaries what that meant. They replied that it was the Holy Spirit confirming truth to me. After that moment, I had a testimony of the Book of Mormon, and since I had a testimony of the Book of Mormon, everything else fell into place. I knew that there is a living prophet, that Joseph Smith really was called of God and is the Prophet of the Restoration, and that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints really is the true Church.
My knowledge was gained through my faith; my faith was not gained by my knowledge.
Ever since I received a testimony of the Book of Mormon, I have strived to live according to the commandments of God. It’s a lifelong journey but one I look forward to.
I can’t give thanks enough to the people who set me on this journey. I can, however, be the best disciple of Jesus Christ I can be and pray that my actions will invite others to join me on this journey back to our Heavenly Father.

When I went outside that Saturday morning, I didn’t say to myself, “I hope a bug flies into my mouth today.” But as I was jogging, it happened. A bug flew right into my mouth! It wasn’t my fault. I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I didn’t even see it coming.
What do you think I did when that insect zipped between my teeth? Well, I didn’t swish it around and savor it. I didn’t leave it there just to see what would happen. I didn’t swallow it. I didn’t even take time to think about it. I just spit it out and kept running, sputtering along the way.

The day after his baptism, he wanted “to have an experience like Joseph Smith in the grove of trees, so I walked into a very deep thick forest”.
Initially he was scared, but he summoned the courage to kneel and pray. But he didn’t see anything. “I wasn’t sad, but I really wanted to know how to explain everything to my parents”, he said.
When he came home that evening, something happened that he would never forget.
“I was sleeping with four of my siblings and around 2 a.m. I had a dream. In that dream, the Savior visited with me, and he opened His arms to me. In the dream, I stood up and tried to embrace the Savior, but then I woke up and I was standing and trying to hug someone who wasn’t there.” He was so touched by this experience that he decided to share it with his parents.

“Let’s go,” the voice of our group counselor rang out. My week at a college program in Idaho had barely begun, and it was already the end of the first day. We walked a short distance from our campsite with the bright blue of the sun’s disappearance just fading below the horizon. Our counselor stopped us all on the dirt road in the center of a field and told us we could go off alone to try to get in touch with the Spirit. I had already chosen my spot—behind us and down a hill, in a stand of trees.
As I slipped away from the rest of my group, I sat down in the grass and began to think. I began to hear the noises of small insects in the grass around me. I then picked up a small pink flower, noticing the details and intricacies that made it. As the sky grew darker, I looked up, noticing the perfectly clear field of millions of stars hovering above me. As I sat thinking, the scriptures about God’s creations popped into my mind. God had created worlds more numerous than the sands of the sea, and yet I looked down at the flower in my hand, at how intricately formed it was. The rest of the week I felt grateful for God’s creations and His care for even the smallest of them.

The above map shows historic Kirtland as it has been restored. The sawmill (background) was built by Latter-day Saints on Newel K. Whitney’s property but was a Church mill rather than a private operation. It provided the cash-poor Church a means of building the temple in the style dictated by the revelations. It also provided jobs for the many Latter-day Saints arriving in Kirtland. A waterwheel (top inset) powered the saw and lathe. Lumber from this mill was used for the temple and other buildings. The original sawmill burned down in the early 1850s.

Years later, our family had grown to five children, including our youngest, Spencer.
Once, when Spencer was six years old, my wife and I went away for just a few days and left the children with a babysitter. When we returned home, I sat down with Spencer and asked him how everything had gone while we were away.
He told me that he’d had a hard time sleeping. When I asked why he didn’t sleep well, he thought about it and said he did not know.
Later that evening our family began our nightly routine of reading the Book of Mormon together.
Suddenly Spencer exclaimed, “That’s it!” I asked what he was talking about. “That’s why I couldn’t sleep very well at night.”
“Why couldn’t you sleep?” I asked.
“We didn’t read the scriptures at night while you were gone, and I like how the scriptures make me feel.”
Spencer had learned that reading the scriptures every day brings us the comfort, peace, and guidance of the Holy Ghost.

Sometimes Joby forgot things like the time he forgot not to laugh when his brother fell down the stairs. Another time he forgot to walk straight home after school.
But what Joby didn’t forget was something he did every night before he went to bed. Something besides saying his prayers. It was something he had heard the prophet, President Spencer W. Kimball, talk about many times during general conferences. That something was keeping a daily journal.
One particular family home evening I asked Joby if he would share some of his thoughts and feelings with children all over the world.
Here are a few entries from Joby’s daily journal:

MICHAEL: I started with alcohol. I started just because of curiosity and a little peer pressure. I was popular and had a lot of friends at school who drank.

MICHAEL: I felt, “Hey, this isn’t bad.” My parents had put this big warning of doom over alcohol and drugs, like I was going to die or get some weird disease, and I was feeling just fine. I figured they didn’t know what they were talking about.

MICHAEL: I continued to use, and as time went on, I found that I started looking at things differently. My priorities changed. I was using more and more alcohol and running around with people I previously wouldn’t have hung out with. At age 16 I dropped out of school. I had really been into sports, but I stopped all that. I’d started smoking marijuana and had gone on to cocaine.

My parents put me into a drug treatment center. When I got out I went back to using and got heavy into cocaine, crank, and crack.

My Mormon values had gone right out the door. I kept running away, and I was stealing money. I was in trouble with the law. My relationship with my parents had gone downhill. They couldn’t trust me, and I was belligerent.

I’m lucky to be alive. I had friends who died.

Elder Ulisses Soares of the Seventy talked about a deacon who followed the example of Captain Moroni (page 70). When the young man saw some classmates looking at pornographic images on their cell phones, he told them they were doing wrong and that they should stop. One friend did stop.

I would like to thank you for publishing the article “The Finals Decision” in the March 1999 issue. I have always been leaning toward going on a mission, but there always have been some questions about college. After I read this article, I felt good that there are people out there who can make the right choice. I would like to follow in their footsteps. I would also like to thank your staff for all the great stories the magazine publishes. I have and always will continue to read the New Era. Thank you so much,
Nathan AikeleHermiston, Oregon (via e-mail)

Several years ago as our extended family gathered for a holiday dinner, my father began playing games with many of his grandchildren. Suddenly and without warning, he collapsed and quickly passed away. This unexpected event could have been devastating, especially for his grandchildren, raising questions that are difficult to answer. However, as we gathered our children around us, as we prayed and read the words of Book of Mormon prophets about the purpose of life, the Holy Ghost comforted each of us personally. In ways that are difficult to describe with words, the answers we sought came clearly into our hearts. We felt a peace that day that truly surpassed our understanding, yet the witness from the Holy Ghost was certain, undeniable, and true.

As his condition worsened, we had the chance to say our goodbyes, full of tears but also gratitude for our time together. The night before he passed away, he had a moment of clarity in the hospital. Not only did he see those of us visiting in the room, but he also saw people dressed in white around him and believed he was in the temple. We knew his time on this earth was short. On November 23, 2023, after eight months of fighting, José passed away. I held his hand until his last breath.

Like most parents-to-be, we anxiously awaited the birth of our first baby. We acquired clothing and furniture and chose two names—one for a boy and one for a girl.
We also chose a special song to sing to our baby throughout the pregnancy. The song we selected was “My Heavenly Father Loves Me” (Children’s Songbook, 228–29). We sang these words often, imagining how wonderful it would be to have a baby in our family:
Whenever I hear the song of a bird
Or look at the blue, blue sky,
Whenever I feel the rain on my face
Or the wind as it rushes by,
Whenever I touch a velvet rose
Or walk by our lilac tree,
I’m glad that I live in this beautiful world
Heav’nly Father created for me.
One morning my wife awoke covered with little red spots. We went to the doctor and learned that those little red spots were rubella. The doctor also gave us the disturbing news that since my wife was in the first trimester of her pregnancy, our baby ran a serious risk of being born deaf, blind, or disabled in other ways.
That night we paid special attention to the second verse of our song:
He gave me my eyes that I might see
The color of butterfly wings.
He gave me my ears that I might hear
The magical sound of things.
He gave me my life, my mind, my heart:
I thank him rev’rently
For all his creations, of which I’m a part.
Yes, I know Heav’nly Father loves me.
We thought about the future and everything that could happen. It was a time of much prayer and fasting to accept the will of our Heavenly Father. We had faith that the Lord would be with us, no matter what happened.
Our daughter, Alice, was born one month early. After her birth an endless array of tests began to determine the effects of the rubella. When nothing was found, someone spoke of a miracle. We, without a doubt, believe it was.
Alice is now seven years old, and she loves to sing her favorite song, “My Heavenly Father Loves Me.” We are eternally grateful, but we are also aware that difficult situations don’t always turn out this well and that trials are part of our mortal probation. But we have learned that if we trust Him we have nothing to fear, for as the song teaches, “I know Heav’nly Father loves me.”

Spiritual healing is illustrated in the story of Warren M. Johnson, pioneer ferryman at Lee’s Ferry, Arizona. As a young man, Warren Johnson came west seeking his fortune in gold in the summer of 1866. He became very ill, and his companions left him under a tree in the yard of a family in Bountiful, Utah. One of the daughters found him and reported there was a dead man out in the yard. Although he was a complete stranger, this kind family took him in and nursed him back to health. They taught him the gospel and he was baptized. He eventually ended up as the ferryman at Lee’s Ferry.
In 1891 the Warren Johnson family suffered a great tragedy. Within a period of a short time, they lost four children to diphtheria. All four were buried in a row next to each other. In a letter to President Wilford Woodruff, dated July 29, 1891, Warren told the story:
“Dear Brother,
“In May 1891 a family residing in Tuba City, came here from Richfield Utah, where they had spent the winter visiting friends. At Panguitch they buried a child, and without disinfecting the wagon or themselves, not even stopping to wash the dead child’s clothes, they came to our house, and remained overnight, mingling with my little children. …
“We knew nothing of the nature of the disease, but had faith in God, as we were here on a very hard mission, and had tried as hard as we knew how to obey the Word of Wisdom, and attend to the other duties of our religion, such as paying tithing, family prayers etc. etc., that our children would be spared. But alas, in 4 1/2 days [the oldest boy] choked to death in my arms. Two more were taken down with the disease and we fasted and prayed as much as we thought it wisdom, as we had many duties to perform here. We fasted some 24 hours and once I fasted 40 hours, but all of no avail for both my little girls died also. About a week after their death my fifteen year old daughter Melinda was stricken down and we did all we could for her but she followed the others, and three of my dear girls and one boy [have] been taken from us, and the end is not yet. My oldest girl 19 years old is now prostrate with the disease, and we are fasting and praying in her behalf. … What have we done that the Lord has left us, and what can we do to gain his favor again[?]
“Yours in the gospel
“Warren M. Johnson”
In a subsequent letter to his friend Warren Foote, Brother Johnson testified that he had found a spiritual peace:
“I can assure you however, that it is the hardest [trial] of my life, but I set out for salvation, and am determined through the help of my Heavenly Father to hold fast to the iron rod, no matter what trials may come upon me. I have not yet slackened in the performance of my duties, and hope and trust that I shall have the faith and prayers of my brethren that I may live so as to receive the blessings, you having authority, have placed on my head.”

I have often heard my father describe my mother as a woman with a “mother heart,” and that is true. Her mothering influence has been felt by many hundreds, perhaps thousands of people, and she has refined the role of nurturer to an art form. Her testimony of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ and strong sense of identity and purpose have guided her life.
She took longer than most women to find her husband, but during her single years she had devoted her life to progress. Though it was uncommon at the time, she was university educated and advancing in a career. Following her marriage, children arrived in quick succession; and in a short span of years, she was the mother of a large family. All the knowledge she had acquired, all her natural abilities and gifts, all her skills were channeled into an organization that had no earthly bounds. As a covenant-keeping daughter of God, she had prepared all her life for motherhood.

When my grandmother was hurt and my parents had to take her to the hospital, we had two friends who were kind and helped our family. I decided that I wanted to make them cookies to thank them for their kindness. When we took them the cookies, it made them smile, and that made me very happy! I like serving others and am thankful for those who have served me and my family.

Rexburg Idaho North Stake
Primary children in the Rexburg Idaho North Stake (above) learned how to prepare to enter the temple. They built a model of a temple and were excited for the Rexburg Idaho Temple to be built. The children learned that living gospel standards will help them be worthy to receive temple blessings.

Football has given Kalin the opportunity to go to college. College led Kalin to the gospel. The gospel directed him to BYU, where he met and married his wife, Holly Hamilton, in the temple. The temple can lead them to an eternal family, a concept that is extremely meaningful to an only child who spent a lot of time alone.