Gospel Story Finder

After several meetings with the missionaries, I was not making much progress. I felt I had not received a confirmation of the truthfulness of the gospel.

One day, Renee asked me, “Are you reading the Book of Mormon?”

I replied, “No.” I was listening to the missionaries—wasn’t that enough?

With tears in her eyes, Renee assured me that she knew the Book of Mormon is true and explained that if I wanted to know if it is true, the only way is—guess what—to read it! And then ask!

Yes. The last item is correct. That’s what the young men from the Canyon Ward, Spanish Fork Utah Stake, learned last year. Not only did they get to hike in some of the most scenic mountains in Wyoming and Montana, but they scaled even higher heights by including daily scripture study as the focus of their wilderness experience.
“We’ve been on great hikes before,” says John Oldham, 16, past captain of the ward’s Varsity Scout team. “But this time we really emphasized the spiritual side in our planning.”
For example, the trek began with a testimony meeting. “It was great,” says Joshua Christensen, 18. “We sat and looked at the Teton Mountains as the sun went down. We talked about the gospel, about each other, about the Savior. The Spirit was there. It set a great mood for the entire trip.”
That’s not all. The group held devotionals and firesides every day. And each day they studied a scriptural theme.
“We’d read a scripture together in the morning, ask some questions about it, then we’d try to think about it or put it into practice during the day,” explains Doug Thompson, 15. “Then at night we’d talk about our answers.”
The result was that everyone was talking about, thinking about, and acting upon the scriptures.
“We read about prayer,” Doug continues, “and while we were hiking there was a time for everyone to ask for something, like praying for strength when the backpacks seemed too heavy, or for a little extra boost to make it through the rain.”
Joe Oldham, 16, says he appreciated one day’s devotional that talked about helping others.
“That same day, my cousin John and I were the first ones up to the top lake. I stayed there to watch our packs, and John went down to help my younger brother, Mike (14), with his pack because it was so heavy. Everyone helped each other out.”
“One day when our firewood was all wet,” says Alex Wright, 19 (now on a mission in Brazil), “a bunch of guys came and brought us dry firewood. That was on the same day we’d been reading about service.”
“There were tons of waterfalls,” Ryan Steadman, 14, remembers. “They’re huge and they cascade down the rocks and make all this mist. It’s so beautiful you have to believe someone made it. It made me think of the scripture (Moses 6:63) that says, ‘All things bear record of me.’”
And there were other lessons learned while hiking and camping:
“I gained an appreciation for the blessings we take for granted at home,” says Joe Elliott, 16. “In the wild you can’t just go get a drink of water; you have to pump for 20 minutes to purify it.”
“You think you need all these things to survive,” John adds. “You think you need to play basketball, to go on dates, to listen to music all the time. But out there, you can live without the worldly things. And when you read the scriptures, you can concentrate more closely on what the Lord wants you to hear.”
“Our first devotional was on prayer, on being able to pray at any time about anything,” Joshua says. “I think we all did that throughout the trip. And it taught us how to walk with the Spirit. I thought a lot about Proverbs 3:5–6 [Prov. 3:5–6], ‘Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.’ I thought as we were hiking along the mountain trails physically, that spiritually we were also hiking some trails.”
Talk with these young men today, and there’s no question last year’s trip left enduring memories. They speak of how the rains came every day, right on schedule, and how that taught them the value of being prepared in advance. They talk of deepened respect for plants and animals. They express a desire to learn more and more. They laugh about diving into ice-cold water, enduring mosquito bites, and returning down the trail in search of stragglers. They even speak reverently about specific answers to prayer.
But threaded into almost every comment, and tied forever with their summer activity, is a deepened love and appreciation for the word of the Lord.
Mike may express it best when he says, “Anybody can go out and go backpacking. But we had a different kind of experience because we oriented it toward the scriptures.”
It’s an adventure that left them, literally, on top of the world.

Early in my ministry as a member of the Council of the Twelve, I took to President Hugh B. Brown the experience of a fine person who could not serve in a ward position because he could not show mercy to himself. He could forgive others but not himself; mercy was seemingly beyond his grasp. President Brown suggested that I visit with that individual and counsel him along these lines: “I, the Lord, will forgive whom I will forgive, but of you it is required to forgive all men.” Then from Isaiah and the Doctrine and Covenants: “Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.” “Behold, he who has repented of his sins, the same is forgiven, and I, the Lord, remember them no more.”

With a pensive expression on his face, President Brown added, “Tell that man that he should not persist in remembering that which the Lord has said He is willing to forget.” Such counsel will help to cleanse the soul and renew the spirit of any who applies it.

In a beautiful sealing room in the temple I talked one day with a little boy who was dressed in white, ready to join his parents and brothers and sisters in a sacred ceremony. I said to him, “Why is your family here in the temple?”
He said, “To be sealed.”
I said, “What does being sealed mean?”
He said, “We’re going to be a forever family.”
“Oh,” I said, “you are going to be a family forever. You must have a good family, a happy family, to want to be with them forever. Do you have a happy family?”
“Yes, sir!” he said.
This fine lad had already begun to understand two of the most important principles anyone could know: that our Heavenly Father has provided that marriage and family ties may be established permanently, to endure forever; and that a marriage that we can joyfully look forward to eternally must be a good marriage here, a marriage that is the heart of a happy home and family.

“A Wonderful Program”
At the Gathering Place in the Kumasi Ghana University Stake, Sister Agatha Owusu teaches others to make soap, detergent, washing powder, and other cleansing agents. Blessed with a bishop who recognized her talent, Agatha received mentoring from him that helped her develop a talent she gratefully shares with others.
“I recognized that this is my talent from my Heavenly Father,” she says. “If I don’t share my gift with others, it would be like putting my lit candle under a bushel” (see Matthew 5:16).
Her reward, she says, is the satisfaction she receives from helping others gain a skill, make a living, and become self-reliant.
Speaking for many who teach and share their talents at a Gathering Place, she says, “I invite everyone to the Kumasi Gathering Place—whether a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints or not—to come to be part of this wonderful program.”

Brothers and sisters, I want to testify to you that President Russell M. Nelson is the prophet of God on earth. I have never seen anyone more kind and loving than he is. Though I felt so inadequate for this sacred call, his words and the tender look in his eyes as he extended this responsibility made me feel embraced by the Savior’s love. Thank you, President Nelson. I sustain you and I love you.

At the Saturday evening priesthood session, President Hinckley announced the establishment of the Perpetual Education Fund, which will help young members in international areas of the Church—returned missionaries, for the most part—gain education or training they otherwise could not afford. “Where there is widespread poverty among our people,” President Hinckley said, “we must do all we can to help them to lift themselves, to establish their lives upon a foundation of self-reliance that can come of training. Education is the key to opportunity. … This is a bold initiative, but we believe in the need for it and in the success that it will enjoy.” The loan program will begin this fall.

Walter C., age 15, Jaén, Peru
For a long time I was the only member in my school. My closest friends seemed to understand me, but other school friends made fun of me. One day I prayed and felt the need to talk with one of them who encouraged the others to make fun of me. I explained that I didn’t feel angry at him, but I asked him to give me the respect he’d like to have. After hearing our conversation, one of my teachers always defended me when he saw something happen. I know that the Lord will be with you as you talk with these people.

It was a windy day in Mongolia. Nine-year-old Batbayar was walking home from the bus stop after school. He hugged his coat tighter in the wind. Luckily, it wasn’t far to his grandparents’ house, where he lived.
“Hi!” Batbayar said as he came inside.
“Welcome home,” Grandma said. “I made some khuushuur for a snack.”
“Thank you!” Batbayar reached for one of the warm, spicy meat pies.
“Wait! Don’t eat any until the missionaries get here,” Grandpa said. “They’ll be coming any minute.”
Batbayar loved it when the missionaries from Grandma and Grandpa’s church came to visit. He always learned a lot from them. But there was just one problem.
“Will they ask me to read from the Book of Mormon again?” Batbayar asked. “Reading is hard for me.”
“That’s why they’re bringing another book today,” Grandma said.
“What book?” Batbayar said.
“You’ll see,” Grandpa said.
Soon the missionaries arrived. They ate Grandma’s delicious meat pies together. Then Batbayar said, “Grandma says you brought me a book.”
“I think you’ll like this book,” Sister Heitz said. “It has lots of pictures.”
Batbayar looked at the cover. Book of Mormon Stories, it said. A picture on the cover showed people building a boat.
“I remember that story,” Batbayar said. “The man didn’t know how to build a boat. So he prayed. And God helped him.”
“That’s right,” Sister Enkhtuya said. “Will you try reading this book? Then you can pray to know that what it teaches is true.”
“I will,” Batbayar promised.
That night he read from the book with pictures. He read the story about the boat. Then he prayed. He fell asleep thinking about the man who built the boat and how God helped him.
From then on, each night Batbayar read a story. Then he prayed. And each night, he fell asleep thinking about what he read.
When the sister missionaries came again, they taught Batbayar more about Jesus Christ. Batbayar learned about prophets. He learned about God’s commandments. He kept going to church with Grandma and Grandpa. And he kept reading and praying.
One day Batbayar had something important to tell his grandparents. “When I read the stories in the book with pictures, my heart feels good,” he said. “When I pray, I feel they are true. I think I should be baptized.”
Today, Batbayar is a member of the Church. He has gotten better and better at reading. And he still reads the Book of Mormon every night!

It was one of those rare Sunday mornings when, for a very special reason, I happened to be at home in my own ward. We sat on the last row, and our only son, a tall, fine young man, walked, at the invitation of the bishop, up the aisle and stood by the pulpit. The bishop spoke about my son and presented him to the congregation for their sustaining vote to his advancement in the Aaronic Priesthood. We all voted, and later I had the great privilege, at the invitation of the bishop, to ordain my son. Later, at lunch, he was telling his sisters about the events of that morning. He said it was kind of scary walking up that aisle and standing up before the congregation all alone with the bishop. But he said, “When they voted, I looked down and saw Dad’s hand higher than all the rest, and I felt all right.” And he was right. I had hoisted my hand just as high as I could get it. He is my son, you see—and that is how I feel about him. The relationship between fathers and sons is a very special one.

Following the martyrdom, Joseph’s and Hyrum’s bodies were returned to Nauvoo, washed, and dressed so the Smith family could see their loved ones. Their precious mother recalled: “I had for a long time braced every nerve, roused every energy of my soul, and called upon God to strengthen me; but when I entered the room, and saw my murdered sons extended both at once before my eyes, and heard the sobs and groans of my family [and] the cries … from the lips of their wives, children, brothers, and sisters, it was too much. I sank back crying to the Lord in the agony of my soul, ‘My God! My God! Why hast thou forsaken this family?’”
At that moment of sorrow and distress, she recalled them saying, “Mother, weep not for us; we have overcome the world by love.”

We all know that too many of God’s children do suffer silently and alone. Take, for example, a young man who wrote me expressing his testimony in a remarkably articulate letter but then adding that his heart breaks because he does not see any fulfillment or future joy for him as a person with same-sex attraction:
“I face a lifetime of lonely nights and dreary mornings. I attend my YSA ward faithfully and each week leave church knowing that I can never really fit in. I will never teach my son to ride a bike. I will never feel my baby girl hold my finger as she learns to walk. I will never have grandchildren.
“I will come home to an empty house, day after day, month after month, decade after decade, anchored only by my hope in Christ. Sometimes I wonder why He would do this to me and ask me to make such an impossible sacrifice. I cry at night when nobody can see. I have not told anybody, not even my parents. They and my friends … would reject me if they knew, just as they all have rejected those who have walked this path in front of me. I will live life at the margins. I have the option of either being harassed and avoided for being single, or pitied and ignored for telling the reason. Life looms long before me. Is there no balm in Gilead?”5

I wish to say a particular word about this Tabernacle Choir, who have sung to us today. I came across a letter written by Wilford Woodruff and his counselors, George Q. Cannon and Joseph F. Smith, under date of February 11, 1895, 101 years ago. It was addressed to the choir at that time. It reads:
“We desire to see this choir not only maintain the high reputation it has earned at home and abroad, but become the highest exponent of the ‘Divine Art’ in all the land; and the worthy head, example and leader of all other choirs and musical bodies in the Church, inspiring musicians and poets with purest sentiment and song and harmony, until its light shall shine forth to the world undimmed, and nations shall be charmed [by] its music.”
The letter goes on: “This choir is and should be a great auxiliary to the cause of Zion. By means of its perfection in the glorious realm of song, it may unstop the ears of thousands now deaf to the truth, soften their stony hearts, and inspire precious souls with a love for that which is divine. Thus removing prejudice, dispelling ignorance and shedding forth the precious light of heaven to tens of thousands who have been, and are still, misled concerning us” (in James R. Clark, comp., Messages of the First Presidency of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 6 vols. [1965–75], 3:267–68).
Such has been the responsibility resting upon this choir for more than a century. Personnel changes have occurred through the years, but the quality of performance has only improved. This choir is one of the great treasures of the Church. I think it is one of the great treasures of America. I regard it as the outstanding choir in all the world. May it continue its great mission of providing lofty and inspiring music at home and abroad. I thank, in behalf of the entire Church, the officers, directors, organists, and members of this dedicated body of talented and gifted musicians who give so generously of their time.

All four boys have set goals to serve missions for the Church. Braeden isn’t waiting until he’s 19 to be a missionary, though. He is already sharing the gospel through his example. His best friend and next-door neighbor, Aaron, watched Braeden go to church each week. Soon Aaron became interested in the gospel, and he has since been baptized along with his family.

On a snowy winter day, Aubreelyn, Tyler, and Suzannah visited the quiet, peaceful woods of Vermont. Their grandparents, Elder and Sister Schuck, are missionaries at the Joseph Smith Birthplace Memorial. They give tours in the visitors’ center and on the beautiful grounds of the site where the Prophet Joseph Smith was born on December 23, 1805.
The site used to be a farm belonging to the Prophet Joseph’s grandfather. The family lived in a small clapboard home, which used to stand not far from where the visitors’ center is now. The historical site is a special place because the first prophet of the Restoration was born here.
Elder and Sister Schuck teach their grandchildren about the granite monument that was dedicated on December 23, 1905—the 100th anniversary of the Prophet Joseph’s birth.
The monument stands 38 1/2 feet tall (11.7 m). That’s one foot for every year of the Prophet’s life. It took seven weeks to transport all the pieces of the monument—first by train, and then by a special horse-drawn wagon—from the granite quarry where it was made to the place it stands today. The monument honors the life of the Prophet Joseph and represents the love and reverence members of the Church have for the beloved Prophet.
The children stand on the front step of the Smith home. The home fell down long ago, but it once stood in this clearing. Shivering in the snow, the kids imagine how the Smiths might have welcomed the baby Joseph into their family on a cold winter day.
Aubreelyn enjoyed learning about cooking utensils and tools like the ones Joseph’s family used. The large stone in front of the fireplace was part of the hearth, or fireplace. Joseph’s mother cooked many meals over this stone.
Tyler, 8; Suzannah, 6; and Aubreelyn, 11; stand next to a statue of Joseph Smith. To make the statue realistic, the sculptor studied plaster masks taken of Joseph’s face shortly after he died.
Elder Schuck shows the children a topographical map of the site as it was in 1805, the year Joseph was born.

When I was a child, one of my favorite parts of the day was waiting for my dad to come home from work. I would look out the window and see him coming, and I would count each of his steps toward the house, looking forward to the joy he brought. I never thought I would have to do without that feeling.
One day when I was seven years old, in my father’s place came a man with a somber face who stood at the door and told us that my father had been killed in an accident.
That day I was silent. I looked at my four-year-old brother and my mother, so young and alone, and I did not cry. I didn’t think it could be true, so I went to the window and stared at the street. I began to feel an unbearable force pressing down on my shoulders, a weight that would not let me breathe normally, a pressure that oppressed me.
Not long after my father’s death, I went into my room alone at the fading light of sunset and, as I had been taught, prayed to my Heavenly Father. I pleaded with Him to let me see my beloved father again, just to hug him. In my heart I was certain that Heavenly Father could give me this miracle.
That day I didn’t get to see my dad or hug him, but I was given much more. It was as if I felt the hands of the Savior on my shoulders. His presence was almost tangible as He removed the weight that pressed down on my chest.
Illustration by James Johnson
Now, over 20 years later, that relief has never left me. At times I have felt sadness but never emptiness at the loss of my father. I can look back and see how many times the Spirit has come to console me, help me, and show me the way to follow the Savior’s precious steps. I can feel His presence in my life thanks to that first trial, which helps me see everyday trials with an eternal perspective. I know it is the gospel in our lives that allows us to feel the invisible caress of the Savior’s hand.
I have married for eternity, and now my husband and I have three little girls, who bring a taste of heaven into our home. When I see them, I rejoice in the peace and knowledge that every sorrow, trial, and challenge in their lives can bring with it greater faith, new witnesses, and wonderful miracles. I rejoice in the profound certainty that when they need something beyond what my husband and I can give them, they will be protected, consoled, and saved, just as I was.

As our youngest son, Clark, was approaching his 12th birthday, he and I were leaving the Church Administration Building when President Harold B. Lee approached and greeted us. I mentioned that Clark would soon be 12, whereupon President Lee turned to him and asked, “What happens to you when you turn 12?”
This was one of those times when a father prays that a son will be inspired to give a proper response. Clark, without hesitation, said to President Lee, “I will be ordained a deacon!”
The answer was the one President Lee had sought. He then counseled our son, “Remember, it is a great blessing to hold the priesthood.”

Several years ago, I was invited to give an important lecture at a medical school in New York City. The night before the lecture, Sister Nelson and I were invited to dinner at the home of our host professor. There he proudly introduced us to an honor medical student—his beautiful daughter.
Some weeks later, that professor telephoned me in an obvious state of grief. I asked, “What is the matter?”
“Remember our daughter, whom you met at our home?”
“Of course,” I replied. “I’ll never forget such a stunning young lady.”
Then her father sobbed and said, “Last night she was killed in an automobile accident!” Trying to gain composure, he continued: “She asked permission to go to a dance with a certain young man. I didn’t have a good feeling about it. I told her so and asked her not to go. She asked, ‘Why?’ I told her that I simply was uneasy. She had always been an obedient daughter, but she said that if I could not give her a good reason to decline, she wanted to go. And so she did. At the dance, alcoholic beverages were served. Her escort drank a bit—we don’t know how much. While returning home, he was driving too fast, missed a turn, and careened through a guardrail into a reservoir below. They were both submerged and taken to their death.”
As I shared my feeling of sadness, he concluded: “My grief is made worse because I had the distinct feeling that trouble lay ahead. Why couldn’t I have been more persuasive?”

Making the right choice was not always easy. My father and mother had a difficult time providing for their large family, so those of us who were old enough did our best to help out. When I was eighteen years old, I needed to buy a pair of pants, but after sharing my salary with my family, all I had left was the exact amount I owed in tithing. I was tempted to spend that tithing money for those pants, but I paid my tithing, and during the next week I got an extra job that allowed me to buy the pants.

Recently while we were sitting in a mission presidents’ training meeting, the challenges of our California mission flooded back into my mind. And I knew we would again face similar concerns, even with yet unknown problems.

In spite of these unsettled feelings, at the conclusion of the training meeting, I felt an excitement difficult to describe. I might liken it to how we may have felt in the premortal existence as we learned of the gospel plan. We knew there would be adversities in this earth life, yet we shouted for joy at the prospects of being able to come here.

Now our excitement causes us to shout for joy as we gather our resources and prepare for this new opportunity.