Gospel Story Finder

In 2005, President Gordon B. Hinckley (1910–2008) asked members of the Church to read the Book of Mormon by the end of the year. I had never read the Book of Mormon all the way through by myself. My family decided we would take President Hinckley’s challenge; we were determined to follow the prophet. I began by reading a chapter a day, and soon found that I could read several chapters a day. I felt good knowing that I was doing what the prophet had asked me to do. Christmas came, and I forgot about my goal. On New Year’s Eve I still had 115 pages left to read. I spent most of the day reading. That evening I finished the Book of Mormon. I learned never to procrastinate what the prophet asks us to do.

This past summer our deacons quorum brought two members into full quorum activity and introduced three nonmembers to the Church. The quorum took a 270-mile bike trip from Kirtland to Dayton, following the path of the Zion’s Camp expedition. The deacons and advisers, the bishop, and many of the parents drove to Kirtland on a Saturday. They attended Church and visited Church historical sites the next day. That evening they had a fireside. Monday they started out on their bikes. It took a week for them to pedal to Dayton. They camped overnight at campgrounds, bicycled in the rain, and contended with traffic. One of the best parts of the trip was that one of the boys who was handicapped pedaled right along with the rest of the group.

Now, fast forward many years. We found ourselves a year ago with the same assignment, that of being chairman of the Missionary Executive Council. Christmas was approaching. Because of the pleasant experience we’d had at the MTC those many years ago, we decided to repeat the performance.
This time, there were about twice the number of missionaries. The setting was very different, for now a beautiful auditorium had been constructed for holding devotionals. There before us were more than 2,000 wonderful full-time missionaries anxious to hear the messages we would bring to them at Christmastime. Because the setting was different and required a more formal approach, we selected the message from Matthew and Luke of the birth of the Savior.
The book of Matthew tells the remarkable account of how he wanted to be certain that everyone understood the fact that the Savior came to earth through the lineage of David the King just as the Old Testament prophets had predicted. Matthew goes on to tell the wonderful story of the wise men coming from the East to pay homage to the Christ child. They brought gifts that would greatly relieve the burden of having to flee for their safety into Egypt, as Herod the King was troubled about the fact that this King of the Jews was being born.
Each of the stories was preceded by having the scripture read by our two youngest grandchildren, J.P., who was 8 years old, and Megan, who was 10 years old.
J.P. read the verses from the book of Matthew. As the story unfolds, you wonder where Matthew went for his source of material. It is obvious that this is the story of Joseph the father, of his concern for the safety of his family, and also for supplying the family with the needs that they would require as they were to make this long journey to a distant land. Our message was on the blessed role of fathers.
Megan read the beautiful account of the shepherds coming and finding the Savior’s birth taking place in a manger and the travail of Mary in bearing a child under such trying conditions. Again, it is very evident that Luke must have listened to the wondrous story told by the mother of the Savior. We elaborated on the contribution mothers have made in our lives, of nourishing, of loving, of confidence, and of giving peace and security, as only a mother can do.
Again, we decided to follow the practice of the previous experience and have dinner with the full-time missionaries. We scattered ourselves among the tables and had a glorious time listening to their stories of home and what they were going to accomplish. We felt of the spirit they had now as full-time missionaries ready to go out in the world to declare the great message of the Restoration to the peoples of the world.
Looking at the size of the cafeteria, we decided to shake hands with the missionaries as the dinner concluded. Little did we realize that they came in waves, only about a third of them could eat dinner at any one time. After shaking hands with the first wave, the second wave descended on us. We had to shake hands with them, and then the third wave descended on us. We spent most of the afternoon shaking hands and wishing the missionaries well as they went about their training in the Missionary Training Center.
It was interesting to see the reaction of our grandchildren. Megan, in naming her 12 favorite events a short time later, had the Christmas MTC experience listed second only to her last special birthday. To me that was a lesson taught by our grandchildren to their grandparents.

Many young men and young women have started avoiding the inappropriate things found on television, in movies, in music, and on the Internet. Monica Peterson, from Mesa, Arizona, and her family have tried to specifically avoid unclean television shows.
“For family home evening, we chose to work on Be clean. We wrote down television shows that weren’t appropriate to watch. A show that makes me feel uncomfortable I know shouldn’t be watched. Now, when that show comes on, I have a feeling to change it. It was hard at first, but Heavenly Father helped not only me but my family also.”

For a long time in Primary, I wanted to go inside the temple and do baptisms for the dead. So when I became a Beehive, I couldn’t wait to get started. The first time I went was on my 12th birthday. My dad took me to the Ogden Utah Temple, where we did the baptisms and confirmations. I felt the Spirit so strongly, and I didn’t want the feeling to leave.
I decided that for a Personal Progress experience, I wanted to do my family history. A kind sister from my ward taught me how to use the FamilySearch program. I then searched for names with my mom, and every time I saw a green arrow pointing to the temple, I squealed with delight—it meant we’d found another name to submit to the temple for temple work!
My mother and I just went to the temple to do six of the baptisms. Temple workers said they had more names for us to do if we’d like to do them. I was overjoyed! My mom and I did at least 12 baptisms each. I felt the Spirit and always will when I go to the temple.

James Bowcutt, 18, of the Elgin Branch says the highlight of his service in the temple was having the chance to be baptized for some of his ancestors. For some time before the trip James carried with him the names of his earlier family members for whom he would be doing baptisms. “I could read the names and really get to know them. I actually felt that they belonged to me, and I was proud to have my family names in my hands,” he says. “I definitely felt a stronger connection with people beyond the veil.”

The summer before my senior year of high school, my family moved from northern Virginia, USA, near Washington, D.C., to a small town in California. This was not an easy transition. I was looking forward to finishing high school with my friends. At 17 years old, I felt like my life was over!
My senior year wasn’t easy. I felt lonely a lot. But during that time, I learned the importance of finding good friends who support me and respect my beliefs. That has been helpful to me ever since.

My mother died when I was just a year and a half old. I was too young to remember much about her, and my father didn’t talk about her. I know from pictures of her, and from talking with my uncles, that she was a beautiful woman both physically and spiritually. I missed her every day of my young life.
After Mother died, I lived with my grandmother while my father taught school and moved from town to town. Then when I was eight years old, my father, who had remarried, wanted me returned to him. I found myself with a father I didn’t know, and a stepmother and two baby sisters that I didn’t know. Later two younger brothers were added to the family.
I had a difficult time adjusting to a new family. Part of it may have been my fault, but I never did feel accepted. What’s worse, my father was a very strict individual, given to almost insane rages. This did not contribute to family harmony or communication. I can’t say that our life was a very happy one.
It’s been many years since those childhood days. I’ve grown up and have spent my professional life as a pilot, in part providing emergency flights for infants that are seriously ill or injured. It’s a career that demands a practical approach to life. I don’t think anybody could call me over-imaginative or given to hallucinations. I’ve always figured a fact is a fact is a fact.
And the fact is, when I was 13, we were living in a small town, and my bedroom was a little lean-to that was built on the back of the house. I had been physically injured, hurt, and was very, very depressed. That night I lay in bed and cried and prayed. I wanted my mother.
In the quiet darkness, she visited me. I felt her influence. I saw her and she said, “Do not despair. You are deeply loved.” Then she was gone.
I will never forget those words. There was a calm. I felt better and went to sleep.
The next morning I didn’t dare tell anybody what had happened. I was afraid I’d be ridiculed or possibly even punished. I’ve never told anyone about this until today.
And yet this memory has stayed with me through my entire life. The mother I never knew penetrated the veil between our world and the other world. I know a mother’s love is strong enough to do this, because I have experienced it.

Let me give you an example. A mother was diagnosed with cancer. Soon she began treatment, and immediately, the Relief Society sisters went to work, planning how to best help with meals, transportation to medical appointments, and other support. They visited her regularly, providing cheerful companionship. At the same time, the Melchizedek Priesthood quorum sprang into action. They provided labor in adding a remodeled bedroom and bathroom to make it easier to care for the sick sister. The young men lent their hands and backs to participate in that significant effort. And the young women got involved: they cheerfully arranged to faithfully walk the dog each day. As time passed, the ward continued their service, adding and adapting where necessary. It was clearly a labor of love, each member giving of him or herself, unitedly showing caring in individual ways that blessed not only the suffering sister but each member of her family.

After a valiant effort, the sister finally succumbed to the cancer and was laid to rest. Did the ward breathe a sigh of relief and consider the job well done and well over? No, the young women continue to walk the dog daily, the priesthood quorums continue to minister to the father and his family, and the Relief Society sisters continue to reach out in love to ascertain strengths and needs. Brothers and sisters, this is ministering—this is loving as the Savior does!

My name is Bapont Ngalamulume, I live in Kananga, in central DR Congo; I wanted to share the story about my marriage. A few days after I returned from my full-time mission, I met with my bishop to tell him that I had to return to Kinshasa to pursue my education and to build my life. The post missionary integration challenges were bothering me day and night in every way. My bishop looked me in the eye and told me that it was important to stay in Kananga, my hometown, and to strengthen my family who had just joined the Church when I was on my mission. My stake leaders urged me to stay and edify the Church, and I made the decision to stay in the city and to further my education, to build my life and to serve in the Church. This was not easy for me. On the one hand I had my studies to complete, and on the other hand, I had to simultaneously provide for my younger brother’s education and help my mother who was a widow.

Two great blessings that I received and am grateful for all my life:
The first of these is the vocational training program run by the Church’s construction department, which helped me improve my carpentry skills. As a carpenter, I had the opportunity to work in missionary apartments and Church facilities, where I could render service and earn income from contractors.
The second is the perpetual education fund which allowed me to complete my undergraduate studies before being able to pay for graduate studies on my own.

The Holy Ghost also lets us know what to do, and when He does, it is important to be obedient—even when it is hard. I was once visiting Washington, D.C., on business, and I had planned to go to the temple that evening. By the end of the day, however, I was so tired and frustrated that I decided, “No, I don’t think I’ll go to the temple tonight.” I began to walk to my hotel.
When I reached the hotel, the Spirit came very strongly, whispering that I should go to the temple, anyway. I decided to obey. As I stepped off the curb to cross the street, I heard someone say, “Attention!” (“Look out!”). I was pulled back onto the curb just as a car went whizzing by where I had been standing. I looked around. No one was there.
I safely crossed the street, got in my car, and started driving. The traffic was terrible, and I kept thinking, Maybe I’ll go back. But I didn’t.
Finally I reached the temple. I was given the name of the person whose temple work I would perform, and immediately I felt something special about that person. I noticed that it was a man who had been born and lived in France. I remembered the French voice that I had heard earlier, and through the entire temple session I felt as if he was right next to me. I realized that this man had been waiting for me to do his temple work on that day. I was supposed to go to the temple, and the problems at work had been designed by the adversary to keep me from doing the most important work.

After they reached Clay County, Missouri, news arrived that a mob of nearly four hundred men were preparing to destroy them. When Joseph heard the news, he knelt beneath the clear blue summer sky and prayed for divine protection.

Not far off, gunfire sounded. The men of Zion’s Camp wanted to fight, but Joseph counseled them to wait and see what God would do.

Suddenly a small black cloud appeared in the west. It moved eastward, growing bigger as it moved, until it filled the heavens with darkness. The first ferryboat of mobbers had crossed the Missouri River south of Zion’s Camp and was returning for another load, when a violent burst of wind hit the boat. Rain poured and the wind soared so hard that the members of Zion’s Camp ran from their tents and found shelter in an old Baptist meetinghouse nearby. Safely inside, Joseph told them that God was in that storm.

The horizon filled with the snaking of lightning bolts—not one after another, but atop and beside each other so that the sky was continually lit, and the thunder roared without stopping. Large hailstones broke branches from trees and destroyed crops. Torrents of rain soaked the mobbers’ ammunition and made it useless. The sights and sounds of the storm frightened the mobbers’ horses away, leaving the mobbers to find their way home, wet, horseless, and frightened.

The next morning, Fishing River, which had been only ankle deep, was more than forty feet (12.2 m) deep. One of the mobbers told Joseph Smith that he knew that God was protecting the Mormons.

A second example:
Imagine that a few weeks later, you attend another meeting with your elders quorum (or high priests group or Relief Society). The quorum president makes a few announcements and turns the time over to a teacher. Then the teacher walks to the front of the room and says, “Today’s lesson is chapter 17 in the Wilford Woodruff book.” He opens the book to the first page of the chapter and starts reading.
As the teacher reads about the blessings we can receive in the temple, someone in front of you raises his hand. It’s Brother González, who was sealed to his wife and children a few months ago. After keeping his hand in the air without acknowledgment from the teacher, Brother González finally gives up. The teacher continues reading.
A few pages later the teacher begins reading a statement that really inspired you when you studied the chapter last night. You raise your hand, only to lower it a minute later. The teacher reads on as your heart burns with a testimony that you have not been permitted to share.
You look around at your brethren in the quorum. Some are reading along. Others are staring at the floor, glancing at their watches periodically. A few are struggling to stay awake. No one raises his hand.
By the time the teacher has read the entire chapter, his time is almost up. He bears his testimony and concludes the lesson a little bit earlier than he needs to. Someone says a prayer, and everyone files out of the room.

In the wake of his parents’ deaths, his older sisters chipped in and sent him on study abroad to the Brigham Young University Jerusalem Center. There, he met Kaye Davis.
The two became good friends as their group camped in the Sinai desert, worked in banana fields, and studied the Old and New Testaments together.
After returning to Provo, Utah, they began dating. They married in the Salt Lake Temple in December 1985. They have eight children.

I made a mistake similar to the one you wish to avoid because I was afraid I would not be accepted by my so-called friends. This is the biggest mistake I have ever made. I was enslaved to that habit for the next eight years. I am just now getting over my addiction.

Drugs caused my love for life to slowly fade. I was ready to give up on life when I decided to turn my life around. I had to get rid of a “friend” to let go of the ties that held me back.

I now love myself enough that nobody can shake who I am. I do not know you personally, but I love the person you wish to be. If you ever have to give up a friend to protect yourself, do it. If your friends insist on falling, don’t tumble with them.

Name withheld

At a Young Women in Excellence event in her ward, Lily was recognized for completing her Individual Worth value project. For this project, Lily participated in Special Olympics. She competed in three track-and-field events and three swimming events. She worked very hard to prepare for her competitions and learn the proper techniques.
When Lily first started learning how to throw a rubber javelin for a track-and-field event, it was a bit tricky. But Lily practiced hard, and when the day of the event came, Lily was not nervous at all because she knew just what to do. When the results came in, Lily earned the gold medal!
Lily’s participation in Special Olympics helped her learn that she can do hard things, that she can develop her talents, and that she has great worth.

It’s a bit quieter in the early mornings at the Dunlop household in Capalaba, Australia, these days. Oldest brother, Craig, is serving his mission in the Australia Perth Mission.

“He would come out of his bedroom about 5:30 and, bang, he would shut the door. He would bang down the hall,” said his mother, Kathryn. “We miss that, the big bang of the morning.”

The other seven Dunlop children feel there’s a big hole now that Craig is away from home. Nathan, 14, said, “Craig used to mug me and wrestle me to the floor.”

“He would keep us in line and tell us what we should be doing. Have we practiced our sport? Have we done our homework? Have we read our scriptures? Now he does it long distance,” said Melissa, 17.

This is love at home?

Yes, you feel it when each child grins, as they try to tell their favorite story about their brother.

Maybe the Dunlops learned to love each other from the example of their parents, particularly their father, Robert. Right while they’re talking about their family, Dad arrives home after having been away from home all week because of his work. Everyone is so glad to see him.

Leanne explains, “We miss him. When he gets home, we all bolt for the car when he drives up.”

Robert Dunlop tells of a sad experience in his past. “The last time I saw my dad was when I was going to boarding school. He was ill, and he wanted me to give him a kiss good-bye at the station. I was embarrassed and didn’t give him a kiss in front of all the other kids going away to school. It was the last time I ever saw him. I keep telling my own children of that.”

“So we give him kisses all the time,” said Leanne quickly.

But how does a parent let his children know he loves them when things don’t always go smoothly? “After we have an argument, Dad always says, ‘But I still love you,’” Melissa explains. “He always comes back and gives you a hug—always. Even if I am so angry that I think I don’t like him any more, then he comes back with that. He tells us all the time that he loves us.”

And the Dunlops make happy family memories. One of their favorite things to do together is bike riding—their Maleny bike ride. Sarah explains, “Mom and Dad take the older kids right to the top of the hill. Mom will usually drive down with the babies in the car, and the rest of us coast all the way down the mountain. We love that.”

Then the family all starts talking at once about who had bumped into whom and the funny things that happened, like when Sarah ran over a snake and they didn’t tell her because she would freak out.

Love at home? For the Dunlops it is.

My dear brethren and sisters, several years ago in general conference, I listened as President Kimball encouraged those who had reared their families to sell their camper vans, leave their grandchildren behind, and, for a year or two, give their lives to the service of the Savior Jesus Christ in the mission field. His comments struck a chord in me, and when I returned home to New Zealand, I repeated what he said to my wife.
We decided that we would make our plans to be ready to serve by retiring a little earlier than we otherwise might have, and to do this when I turned sixty in April 1987. We told our sons, and while they said little, they were attuned to and supported us in our desires. I likewise informed my business colleagues three or four years ahead of time.
As 1987 approached, all our plans were falling neatly into place. I anticipated several months of doing many pleasant things, of which I had dreamed for years. Then in time, our mission call would come.
One day in late March of this year, however, I received a phone call that resulted in our coming to general conference in Salt Lake City ahead of that planned retirement date in April.
How grateful we are that we heeded the whisperings of the Spirit when listening to President Kimball several years ago!
There must be many in different nations in the Church today who are of similar age to ourselves and whose circumstances likewise are the same as ours. Perhaps that same still small voice may also be whispering to you. As it comes, remember the promise given in revelation to the Prophet Joseph Smith, “And now, verily, verily, I say unto thee, put thy trust in that Spirit which leadeth to do good” (D&C 11:12).
Now my wife and I are in the service of the Lord and have been assigned to labor in the islands of the Philippines, Micronesia, and Guam. We are only one month old in our service and our lives have been completely turned around. We went from winter to summer in just twelve hours, and from New Zealand lamb to a delightful fish called lapu lapu. We met a typically slender, dark-haired Filipino stake president who quietly responded, “I am the same age as you, Elder Martin.”
Soon after our arrival in the Philippines, we left for our first stake conference some one hundred kilometers north. Along the way, we saw the evidence of poverty among so many of those lovely people. This also was a new experience, and our hearts were heavy as we drove. We checked in at a small hotel in a distant town and soon discovered that it lacked many of the facilities we considered normal and were used to. Then suddenly, as we entered the immaculate chapel grounds, our spirits lifted. We were greeted by sunny, smiling faces and outstretched hands, spotless dresses and shirts of dazzling white. We were not strangers or foreigners, but fellowcitizens with these Saints and of the household of God. Soon to follow was my most unforgettable Philippine experience thus far.
As we moved along the line exchanging handshakes and greetings, one slight young woman shyly extended her arm. As I took it, I realized that she had no hand on it or on her other arm. We exchanged smiles and moved along.
I next encountered this young sister after she and her husband were invited to speak as a young couple married within the last eighteen months in the Manila Temple. When she arose to speak, I noticed that in addition to being born without hands, this young woman had an artificial leg. As first she and then her husband spoke, there unfolded a most remarkable story about their lives.
The stake president was her father. Despite what to others may have been a handicap, but what to her must have been only a difficulty, this young sister had completed a full-term proselyting mission. She described in beautiful terms her feelings about going to the Manila Temple to be married. Hers was a talk of such maturity in gospel understanding and humility that it would have been difficult to equal anywhere in the Church. Then her husband stood and told of how he had written to his girlfriend after being in the mission field two months and later toward the end, of how he wanted to marry her in the Manila Temple when he returned home. There were no second thoughts, no change of heart when far removed, but instead, a growing understanding of the meaning and blessing of temple marriage for them both.
As they proudly showed us their baby after conference, and when we considered the splendid achievements of this young husband and wife, we recalled the Savior’s words, “Blessed are they that hear the word of God, and keep it” (Luke 11:28).
Since then, we have been to different places in the Philippines. Everywhere we meet missionary couples, a number of whom are older than ourselves. The Johnsons, a couple from Fremont, California, labor in distant Vigan. They have been in the Church only a handful of years since their baptism. In Vigan, the carabao, or water buffalo, and motor tricycles are almost the only mode of transport. The Johnsons have a beautiful attitude.
Whenever I meet and talk with missionary couples, I am filled with love and respect for their humility and desire to help the Filipino Saints. They regard their missions as one of the great opportunities to serve the Master in their lives. They always ask, “How many grandchildren have you?” Our response of eight is quickly overshadowed with “We have sixteen,” or “twenty-three,” or maybe “twenty-seven,” and almost always with “And there are two we haven’t seen yet.” They miss their family and grandchildren, but don’t complain. Instead, they look forward to that great homecoming reunion. Meanwhile, they are given all the love they can absorb from devoted Filipino Saints.
Like us, all these missionary couples are finding new purpose and fulfillment in their lives. Section 4 of the Doctrine and Covenants is taking on new meaning.
“Therefore, if ye have desires to serve God ye are called to the work;
“For behold the field is white already to harvest; and he that thrusteth in his sickle with his might, the same layeth up in store that he perisheth not, but bringeth salvation to his soul” (vs. 3–4).
I pray that couples whose families are grown may indeed listen to and obey the Spirit that prompts the call to prepare and serve the Lord in the mission field. I know that this is the Lord’s church, that Joseph Smith was a prophet of God, and that President Benson is God’s prophet on earth today. I am grateful to be a member of the Church and for all the blessings it has brought into my life and the lives of my family. In the sacred name of Jesus Christ, amen.

A close personal friend learned this crucial lesson as an 18-year-old. He enlisted in the United States military during the conflict between the United States and Vietnam. He was assigned to basic training in the infantry to become a foot soldier. He explained that the training was grueling. He described his drill instructor as cruel and inhumane.

One particular day his squad was dressed in full battle gear, hiking in sweltering heat. The drill instructor suddenly shouted orders to drop to the ground and not move. The instructor was watching for even the slightest motion. Any movement would result in serious consequences later on. The squad suffered for more than two hours in the heat with growing anger and resentment toward their leader.

Many months later our friend found himself leading his squad through the jungles of Vietnam. This was real, not just training. Shots began to ring from high in the surrounding trees. The entire squad immediately dropped to the ground.

What was the enemy looking for? Movement. Any motion at all would draw fire. My friend said that as he lay sweating and motionless on the jungle floor, waiting for dark for several long hours, his thoughts reflected back on basic training. He remembered his intense dislike for his drill instructor. Now he felt intense gratitude—for what he had taught him and how he had prepared him for this critical situation. The drill instructor had wisely equipped our friend and his squad with the ability to know what to do when the battle was raging. He had, in effect, saved our friend’s life.

The story is told of an event that happened in New York when President David O. McKay returned from a trip to Europe. “Arrangements had been made for pictures to be taken, but the regular photographer was unable to go, so in desperation the United Press picked their crime photographer—a man accustomed to the toughest type of work in New York. He went to the airport, stayed there two hours, and returned later from [the] dark room with a tremendous sheaf of pictures. He was supposed to take only two. His boss immediately chided him, ‘What in the world are you wasting time and all those photographic supplies for?’
“The photographer replied very curtly, saying he would gladly pay for the extra materials, and they could even dock him for the extra time he took. … Several hours later the vice-president called him to his office, wanting to learn what happened. The crime photographer said, ‘When I was a little boy, my mother used to read to me out of the Old Testament, and all my life I have wondered what a prophet of God must really look like. Well, today I found one.’”