Gospel Story Finder

Bradon Ballard--Charlotte, NC:
When I graduated BYU-Idaho in 2012, my wife and I moved to Chicago for a job opportunity. There we were immediately put to work in our ward. My wife was in nursery and I was the 11 year old scout leader. I am an Eagle Scout, but to be on the leadership side as a 24 year old was an interesting experience. We were so few in number that we combined two wards together for the sake of being able to actually have enough boys and leaders to have campouts and activities. There were two boys total when we started. One boy from each ward, and they rarely attended the same week. After we got the ward list of the boys in our age group we went hunting for them. There were also a few boys that were turning 11 soon and would help strengthen our numbers. We had the blessing of introducing scouting to many 11 year olds of new converts who had never been involved before and their friends came as well.

We've recently moved from Chicago to Charlotte but on my last night there we had over 12 scouts attending. One of the boys, Juan, turned 12 and became a deacon. We watched him pass the sacrament and fulfill his priesthood duties. We were able to see him grow in his abilities but more importantly his faith. My partner and I picked him up every week because his parents weren't able to get him there each week.

“One night when I was sixteen years old, Father gave a Christmas party for his own children and their families and the nearest neighbors. We danced. My brothers were the musicians. We knew it was Father’s aim to end the party at ten o’clock, which he did right in the middle of a square-dance by ordering the musicians to stop. But Father didn’t know that my brothers had lifted me up to the clock many times that night. Each time I turned it back thirty minutes. It must have been past midnight when the party broke up.”

From Christian Olsen family records, in Carter, Our Pioneer Heritage, 15:199.

My brother is a big role model for me, so when he decided he wanted to serve a mission, I decided I was also going to take action to strengthen my own testimony to help him prepare. I started reading my scriptures more and paying more attention in church. It’s helped me so much, and I’ve been able to gain a testimony. I now know the Church is true. Reading my scriptures every night has also made my days better and has made me want to read more and pray more to continue strengthening my testimony.
Chase G., Utah, USA

Lorenzo Snow wrote of such an experience:

Some two or three weeks after I was baptized . . . I began to reflect upon the fact that I had not obtained a knowledge of the truth of the work . . . , and I began to feel very uneasy. I laid aside my books, left the house, and wandered around through the fields under the oppressive influence of a gloomy, disconsolate spirit, while an indescribable cloud of darkness seemed to envelop me. I had been accustomed, at the close of the day, to retire for secret prayer, to a grove a short distance from my lodgings, but at this time I felt no inclination to do so. The spirit of prayer had departed and the heavens seemed like brass over my head. At length, realizing that the usual time had come for secret prayer, I concluded I would not forego my evening service, and, as a matter of formality, knelt as I was in the habit of doing, and in my accustomed retired place, but not feeling as I was wont to feel.

I had no sooner opened my lips in an effort to pray, than I heard a sound, just above my head, like the rustling of silken robes, and immediately the Spirit of God descended upon me, completely enveloping my whole person, filling me, from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet, and O, the joy and happiness I felt! No language can describe the almost instantaneous transition from a dense cloud of mental and spiritual darkness into a refulgence of light and knowledge, as it was at that time imparted to my understanding. I then received a perfect knowledge that God lives, that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, and of the restoration of the holy Priesthood, and the fulness of the Gospel. . . .

. . . That night, as I retired to rest, the same wonderful manifestations were repeated, and continued to be for several successive nights. The sweet remembrance of those glorious experiences, from that time to the present, bring them fresh before me, imparting an inspiring influence which pervades my whole being, and I trust will to the close of my earthly existence. [In Eliza R. Snow, Biography and Family Record of Lorenzo Snow (Salt Lake City: Deseret News Company, 1884; reprint, 1975), 7–9; emphasis in original]

The joys and blessings of serving a full-time mission are so personally sacred, they are hard to express adequately. Thirty-five years after I served my first mission, I received a letter from a family whom I had taught but did not baptize. The letter shared that their family of four little children, whom I once knew, now consisted of four temple marriages, three full-time missionaries, three bishops, a Relief Society president, and a dozen grandchildren maturing and developing in the gospel. You can well imagine the thrill and joy I received knowing that I had helped to find them and to teach them the gospel of Jesus Christ.

When the missionaries showed me the filmstrip of the Prophet Joseph Smith’s First Vision, it was difficult for me to contain my tears. The story of his search for truth was in some ways similar to my own.
At that time, I was 20 years old and living in Italy, the land of my birth. For five years I had been looking for answers my parents’ religion had not been able to give me. I had sought these answers in other religions and philosophies, but something seemed lacking in all of them. During the year before I met the missionaries, that search had become the most important thing in my life. I distanced myself from some of my friends and even left the university where I had been studying. My relatives could not understand me.
At the end of 1984, I met the missionaries on the street and gave them my address. I knew very little about the Church, but for some reason I wanted to speak to them.
Some days later I was in my room. I opened my heart to God, asking Him to show me what He wanted me to do. As I prayed I felt a great peace surround me. At that exact moment, the doorbell rang. When the missionaries came in, I knew they had the answers I sought.

I have a very good friend who was the chief executive officer and manager of a very large corporation. The call came to him to preside over a mission, and like so many of our wonderful men who have great skills and capabilities and responsibilities, when the call came from the Lord, there was no question. He had thought enough through his life that it was instantaneous in his thought process to accept the call. What was to happen to the business? What was to happen to this great enterprise? Well, situations were worked out, and management was worked out to the best degree. But in three years lots of things can happen to a business when the guiding light is not there to lead on a day to day basis. Ultimately, some of the assets of the company were sold. But toward the end of the mission of this great man, an opportunity arose. Within days after his release, he was back in business with a program far bigger than anything he had before he was called to be a mission president and is presently managing and, I believe, bringing about one of the major corporations to be based in the state of Utah.

Now how did he do that? Well, I suppose by the mistakes he had learned through his life, but most importantly he had learned to think straight so when this second opportunity came up it was easier for him to define, to determine, to make decisions, and to move forward.

Several years ago, the Salt Lake City newspapers published an obituary notice of a close friend—a mother and wife taken by death in the prime of her life. I visited the mortuary and joined a host of persons gathered to express condolence to the distraught husband and motherless children. Suddenly the smallest child, Kelly, recognized me and took my hand in hers. “Come with me,” she said, and she led me to the casket in which rested the body of her beloved mother. “I’m not crying,” she said, “and neither must you. Many times my mommy told me about death and life with Heavenly Father. I belong to my mommy and my daddy. We’ll all be together again.” To my mind came the words of the Psalmist: “Out of the mouth of babes … hast thou ordained strength.” (Ps. 8:2.)
Through tear-moistened eyes, I saw my young friend’s beautiful and faith-filled smile. For her, whose tiny hand yet clasped mine, there would never be a hopeless dawn. Sustained by her unfailing testimony, knowing that life continues beyond the grave, she, her father, her brothers, her sisters, and indeed all who share this knowledge of divine truth can declare to the world: “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.” (Ps. 30:5.)

Janalyn is one. Each year, for the Days of ’47 celebration in the state of Utah, three young women are selected to represent the descendants of the Mormon pioneers. Jana had received national recognition for her outstanding community service and was among the finalists. As she waited on stage for the final selection, she found herself repeating the Young Women theme in her mind. She could feel that peace in her heart. She thought, “I can stand as a witness of God—even here, at this time and in this place.” Her only desire was “to be at the right place at the right time to be the most help for the Lord to build his kingdom.” When it was announced that she had been selected, they asked her to say a few words. She took the microphone and, even though she knew that many in the audience were not Mormons, she bore her testimony. The audience became very quiet as she said, “I fasted. And last night I prayed and told the Lord I would represent him if I received this honor. I’m grateful for this calling to represent my pioneer heritage.”

You recall the Prophet Joseph Smith’s experience with darkness and light in the Sacred Grove. President Lorenzo Snow (1814–1901) wrote of an experience of his own:

“Some two or three weeks after I was baptized … I began to reflect upon the fact that I had not obtained a knowledge of the truth of the work … , and I began to feel very uneasy. I laid aside my books, left the house, and wandered around through the fields under the oppressive influence of a gloomy, disconsolate spirit, while an indescribable cloud of darkness seemed to envelop me. I had been accustomed, at the close of the day, to retire for secret prayer, to a grove a short distance from my lodgings, but at this time I felt no inclination to do so. The spirit of prayer had departed and the heavens seemed like brass over my head. At length, realizing that the usual time had come for secret prayer, I concluded I would not forego my evening service, and, as a matter of formality, knelt as I was in the habit of doing, and in my accustomed retired place, but not feeling as I was wont to feel.

“I had no sooner opened my lips in an effort to pray, than I heard a sound, just above my head, like the rustling of silken robes, and immediately the Spirit of God descended upon me, completely enveloping my whole person, filling me, from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet, and O, the joy and happiness I felt! No language can describe the almost instantaneous transition from a dense cloud of mental and spiritual darkness into a refulgence of light and knowledge, as it was at that time imparted to my understanding. I then received a perfect knowledge that God lives, that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, and of the restoration of the holy Priesthood, and the fulness of the Gospel. …

“… That night, as I retired to rest, the same wonderful manifestations were repeated, and continued to be for several successive nights. The sweet remembrance of those glorious experiences, from that time to the present, bring them fresh before me, imparting an inspiring influence which pervades my whole being, and I trust will to the close of my earthly existence.”

Later, I offered to assist two members of a family that lived nearby who were struggling. They accepted my help and became part of my household.
I didn’t have the financial means, however, to support us. So I had to work harder than ever, supporting three people instead of one. It was a big lifestyle change.
To navigate that change, I knew I needed to follow my mother’s words and hold tight to the iron rod. Holding on to the iron rod includes remembering the Savior and studying the word of God. I needed to set a good example, communicate more with God, and study the scriptures every day. So, we started studying the scriptures together. Soon, the Spirit became abundant in our home.
The most fulfilling and wonderful times of my life have come from holding to the iron rod. I have also learned that “as you hold on to the iron rod, you will walk hand in hand with Jesus Christ. He will be guiding you, and He will be teaching you.”

I once interviewed a young woman who believed she had grossly sinned. She had done some things that were not right though they were not grossly deviant. She had corrected them and lived a good life for several years. The passage of time is a good test of repentance; nevertheless, she continued to feel guilty for the past. In the midst of our interview I felt inspired to tell her that I believed the Lord had forgiven her. That moment of inspiration was felt by her as well, and she felt completely relieved from her sense of guilt. It was a miracle of forgiveness. Others in the ward remarked later about what a changed person she was, though they knew nothing about our interview. A light had turned on in her, and it did not go out again. She became a joyful individual because she was truly free from guilt and she knew that the Lord loved her.

Let me share with you two stories that illustrate how decisions concerning money can affect us not only in this life, but also in the life to come. Several years ago, I was serving as the Young Men's president in my home ward in Idaho Falls. I worked with several brethren in those years as priest quorum advisors, and one particularly memorable brother appeared to be incredibly wealthy. He and his family lived a very extravagant lifestyle, but sadly, it eventually became known that his wealth was gained dishonestly. He subsequently lost his family, his membership in the Church, and his freedom--being sentenced to serve many years in federal prison. His decisions about money have placed his eternal happiness in grave peril.

One of them was Walt’s girlfriend, Liz. She was an attractive, cheerful Mormon girl whom I used to tease unmercifully. Liz was the perfect lady, and as we got to know each other better, her good influence began to change me. I stopped swearing. I started opening doors for girls. And, most important of all, I became interested in the Church.
It wasn’t easy for me, a Catholic, to consider changing my religion, but good friends like Walt and Liz made it easier for me to investigate the Church. Liz encouraged me to seek out the truth and to do what was right. And when I had gained a testimony, she and Walt gave me the strength and courage I needed to go through with my decision to get baptized.

We are a humble and very happy family. We were baptized in 1993, although it feels as though we have always been members of the Church and blessed with the gospel of Jesus Christ.
Initially, we were not interested in A Liahona (Portuguese). But then we read a copy loaned to us by a special missionary. We immediately realized that we wanted our own subscription. Now, should we ever miss an issue, it would be quite a spiritual loss for us.

When I was 11, my family lived in a 12-story building in Hong Kong. Every day after school, I ran into the building and rode the elevator to our apartment.
One day I got into the elevator and pressed all the buttons so they lit up. Now the elevator would stop on each floor. The doors started to close, but all of a sudden a hand shot in and opened the doors. It was one of my upstairs neighbors. She didn’t say anything about the buttons, but I was nervous. It felt like it took forever to get home!
Sure enough, the elevator stopped on the next floor, waited, and then kept going. As soon as the doors opened on my floor, I dashed out. I got home sweating because I ran so fast!
Soon after I got home, the phone rang. It was the neighbor from the elevator. I got so nervous waiting for my mom to get off the phone.
After she got off the phone, my mother asked, “Did you press all the buttons on the elevator?”
I couldn’t lie to my mother. “Yes,” I said.
My mother smiled. “OK, let’s go upstairs and talk to our neighbor.”
We went upstairs together. I rang the doorbell, and my neighbor came to the door. My head hung low as I said I was sorry that I pressed all the buttons. I promised I would never do it again.
Our neighbor was kind. She said, “As long as you never do it again, I think that’s fine.”
After telling her I was sorry, I felt good. And I never pressed all the buttons on the elevator again.
This experience helped me learn about repentance. I knew I did something wrong. I felt sorry and asked for forgiveness. And I never did it again. Then I felt happy! Repentance can bring you happiness too.
From an interview with Kristin Pedersen.

It can happen to anybody. It happened to Joseph Smith. Over a very small thing, he temporarily lost the Spirit. He found he couldn’t translate unless he was worthy to be guided by the Spirit of God. David Whitmer recounted this situation. He said “something went wrong about the house and [Joseph] was put out about it. Something that Emma, his wife, had done. Oliver and I went upstairs and Joseph came up soon after to continue the translation, but he could not do anything. He could not translate a single syllable. He went downstairs, out into the orchard, and made supplication to the Lord; was gone about an hour—came back to the house, and asked Emma’s forgiveness and then came upstairs where we were and then the translation went on all right. He could do nothing save he was humble and faithful” (A Comprehensive History of the Church, 1:131).

Joseph Smith must have felt he had lost the Spirit. He had to go and think about it, ponder it, pray about it, come in and apologize to Emma, and then he could translate again.

“It took six months for the judge to make the adoption final, and we went to the temple as soon as we could,” Mom said.
In the second picture Malia was wearing a delicate pink dress, sitting on her parents’ laps and laughing. Mom and Dad were smiling down at her and the temple shone in the background.
“After the sealing ceremony, the temple sealer told us that if we chose to keep the commandments, we would be a family forever,” Mom said.
Malia wanted to live righteously so she could be with her family forever.

“It’s Saturday! Everybody up!” Dad calls from the hall.
I open my eyes. Mommy kisses me and opens my curtains to welcome the morning sun.
“How would you like to go for a drive today?” Daddy asks with a smile.
“Yes, yes,” I say as I quickly jump out of bed. After Mommy helps me get dressed, we go downstairs for breakfast. Pancakes with sweet maple syrup! “Yum!” I say.
After breakfast we get in the car for a drive to Hood River. It is autumn, and the leaves on the trees are many different colors. I draw leaves that are yellow, red, and orange on the big pad of paper with the crayons that Mommy brought.
Finally we stop at Mr. Draper’s farm. Mr. Draper is a big man with a tall hat. We walk over to see his turkeys and chickens. “Would you like to feed them?” he asks, handing me a cob of corn.
“Yes, thank you,” I reply. Mr. Draper shows me how to hold the corn so the turkeys will peck at it and not my finger.
“How about a hay ride?” Mr. Draper calls as he drives his tractor from the barn. Behind the tractor is a flatbed trailer with bales of hay to sit on. Many of the other visitors want to come on the hayride, too. We wait until everyone is seated; then we start to move. The ride is bumpy and makes me laugh!
Mr. Draper tells us how the farm has belonged to his family for many generations. He shows us different kinds of apples and pears as we ride under the trees. Daddy points to some horses nearby.
Mr. Draper stops his tractor, puts a bale of hay on the ground, and helps us all step down. He shows us a big patch of strawberries and raspberries near the horses, and tells us we may pick some. Daddy picks me up so I can reach some raspberries, then Mommy takes me over to pet the horses.
Mommy takes a picture of Daddy and me on the trailer before it is time to go. “Smile,” Mommy says. I smile as big as I can. Then everyone climbs back on the trailer for the trip back.
The tractor starts to move again. Mr. Draper drives us by his bee boxes, where the bees make honey for him. Then we drive under his plum trees. He tells us we can reach up and pick one. Daddy helps me grab a plum. “Mmm—it is so juicy!” I say.
As we come to the pond, many ducks fly into the air. They quack very loudly. Almost as loud as the tractor engine. We drive by the house where Mr. Draper lives and see his big sunflowers and vegetable garden. As we come back to the front of the farm, the tractor slows down and then stops.
Mr. Draper helps us all down. Mommy buys some of his shiny apples and pears, and Daddy gives me an apple to eat on the way home. I take a big bite, and the sweet juice runs down my chin.
“Good-bye Farmer Draper, I hope I see you again!” I call as I get into the car. Mr. Draper waves back.
Autumn is my favorite time of year!

The year we were baptized a friend bought a building lot for his family and ours by loaning us part of the money. We began to dream of having our own house. Eventually the Spirit prompted us, and we started calculating the cost of labor and materials. We felt that we would somehow manage to build a house where we could raise our children in the gospel, do missionary work, and receive visits from members.
After some time I got better acquainted with Brother Joel, a recently baptized member of our ward. His faith was amazing. Once when we were doing a service project, Brother Joel said to me, “José Luis, we can build your house.” I was on the verge of tears, but I contained myself until I told my wife. It was the answer to our prayers.
A few days later the friend who had purchased the land for his family and ours told me I could have the entire plot and pay for it later. Still I did not have the kind of job that would allow me to buy building materials, but I knew the Lord would provide a way. Several weeks later I was invited to work for a large company. Thus, our goal to begin building a house soon became a reality.
What a labor of love was Brother Joel’s. He did more than build a house for my family. He was ready to help us in any way. We worked only on Saturdays. It took 10 months, and it did not interfere with our Church work. Other Church members also helped us. My father came to help several times, which allowed him to get to know members of the Church better. He especially got to know Brother Joel, who had become our home teacher.
One Saturday my father praised Brother Joel for the way he worked.
I said, “Dad, do you know how much I have paid for his services?”
He said, “No.”
“I haven’t paid him a cent,” I said. “He has done this service because he loves my family. He is a good man.”
I realized my father was choked up, and he didn’t say anything. I felt he was probably remembering how he had treated the bishop and the missionaries and was embarrassed. He saw that the members of the Church had always treated us well.
On the day we finished the house, 16 men, most of them members of the Church, were there. My relatives and friends who were not members certainly learned a lot that day.