Gospel Story Finder

As soon as I read “Please Don’t Give In” in the September 1989 issue, I knew I must write. The young man who sent that letter does not know just how right he is. I, too, had many, many struggles in the Church, and I am one of those young women who gave birth to a baby in high school. Unlike some others, I finished high school and went on to college. I also went back to the Church. He is right. Repentance is possible, and he’s right again in saying it’s much better to stay clean from the start.
I dream of what my life would have been like if I had lived worthily and wasn’t now supporting my little family. But more than that, every day I think of a way, any way, to make other people understand that once you take a step down, it’s so much harder to get back up. I now have a stronger testimony of the truthfulness of the gospel than I ever thought I would have, and I thank the Lord sincerely for people who have the courage to stand up and tell their stories to help other youth of the Church.
Name withheld

A 14-year-old sister was all dressed up to go to a Young Women activity at a time in her life when she felt very unsure about herself. She was quietly and self-consciously inching her way toward the front door, hoping not to be noticed by all the young men in the living room who were visiting with her older brother Russell. She was given a life-changing boost when her older brother interrupted his conversation and said to her in front of all his friends, “My, Emily, you look pretty tonight!”
A small thing? No. There are young women who claim that they would not have made it through those growing-up years without the encouragement and support of their older brothers.

Seventeen-year-old Mackenzie H. took President Pickup’s challenge to heart and began indexing, and she helped her siblings, parents, and grandparents become involved as well. In less than two years, Mackenzie indexed more than 44,000 names. More importantly, Mackenzie and her family felt prompted to seek out their own family names, take them to the temple, and participate in the saving ordinances.

On one occasion Karl G. Maeser was going with a group of young missionaries across the alps. They were crossing a high mountain pass on foot. There were long sticks stuck into the snow of the glacier to mark the path so that travelers could find their way safely across the glacier and down the mountain on the other side.
When they reached the summit, Brother Maeser wanted to teach the young elders a lesson. He stopped at the pinnacle of the mountain and pointed to those sticks that they had followed. And he said, “Brethren, behold the priesthood of God. They are just common old sticks, but it’s the position that counts. Follow them and you will surely be safe. Stray from them and you will surely be lost.” And so it is in the Church. We are called to leadership positions and given the power of the priesthood. And we are just common old sticks, but the position we are given counts. It is separate and apart from us, but while we hold it, we hold it.

Photograph by Christina Smith
My friend had depression and anxiety and felt really bad. She would often get excluded from my friend group and sit by herself. I didn’t know whether to go along with what my friends were doing or to be with this friend who wasn’t feeling well and who had sat by herself.
That’s when I decided that I had to sit with her. My other friends were giving me weird looks because they were mad at her, but I went and sat with her, and we cried together as she told me about her problems. After that, she started feeling much better, and I was able to show her both the love that I had for her and the love that God has for her.
Being a disciple of Jesus Christ is about sharing the love that He has for us with others. It’s about love, service, and developing the same qualities that He had when He was here on the earth. That day, when I felt compassion for my classmate, I felt like a true disciple of Jesus Christ.

At the age of 19, I was called to serve a mission in Tahiti, where I had to learn two foreign languages—French and Tahitian. Early in my mission, I became very discouraged at my lack of progress in either language. Every time I tried to speak French, people responded in Tahitian. When I tried to speak Tahitian, they answered in French. I was on the verge of giving up.

Then one day, as I was walking past the laundry room at the mission home, I heard a voice calling me. I turned around and saw a gray-haired Tahitian woman standing in the doorway motioning for me to come back. Her name was Tuputeata Moo. She spoke only Tahitian. And I spoke only English. I missed much of what she was trying to tell me, but I did understand that she wanted me to return to the laundry room every day so she could help me learn Tahitian.

I stopped by daily to practice with her while she ironed clothes. At first I wondered if our meetings would be of any help, but gradually I began to understand her. Each time we met, she communicated to me her complete confidence that I could learn both languages.

Sister Moo helped me learn Tahitian. But she helped me learn much more than that. She was really teaching me the first principle of the gospel—faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. She taught me that if I relied on the Lord, He would help me do something I thought was impossible. She not only helped save my mission—she helped save my life.

Andy stood on the outside of the circle of bigger boys. He tried to see what they were doing. He jumped up and down until the things in his pockets almost fell out.
If only he were taller. If only he were older. Oh, how he wanted to play baseball with them!
Soon the circle of boys broke up. They ran off to the park, and Andy and his little dog, Katy, were left standing alone on the sidewalk.
Andy and Katy ran along behind the bigger boys.
“Wait for me!” Andy called. “Please wait for me!”
But the boys did not hear him. They ran on ahead.
“Their legs are longer than ours, Katy,” Andy told his dog. “We’ll have to hurry to catch up.”
Andy and Katy ran until their legs were tired, and then they slowed down.
A girl on a bike passed them.
“She goes fast because she has wheels,” Andy explained.
A tall man passed them.
“Look how long his legs are,” Andy told Katy.
A big dog ran past them.
“Wow!” exclaimed Andy. “That dog can run fast!”
Andy and Katy kept going. They saw a red box kite up in the air. High over a house, they also saw a blue kite.
Then they saw a boy about Andy’s size sitting on the curb. His kite string was in a tangle, and a torn kite lay on the sidewalk beside him.
“What happened?” Andy asked the boy.
“My kite got caught in the wires and the paper tore,” the boy answered. “I bought this kite as a present for my brother. I was just trying it out to see if it would fly all right.”
“Did it fly all right?” Andy asked.
“Until it hit the wires, it flew very well,” the boy said. “I guess I shouldn’t have tried to fly it. I should have let my brother fly it himself.”
Andy sat down next to the boy. “I have somewhere very important to go,” Andy explained, “but maybe I can help you first.”
Andy reached into his pocket and pulled out some tape and a pair of tiny scissors with rounded points.
“My name is Andy, what’s your name?” Andy asked the boy.
“Chris.”
“Okay, Chris, hold this paper on the stick right here, and I’ll tape it for you,” Andy instructed.
Together the boys taped the kite so it had no holes.
“I think the kite will be all right now,” Andy explained.
“But I don’t think I should fly it anymore,” Chris answered sadly.
“I have two kites at home,” Andy said. “One is in the shape of a fish and the other is red. I’ll go get both of them.”
Andy and Katy ran home and soon came back with the kites. Chris was waiting for them on the curb.
“Here,” Andy offered, “you can fly my red kite.”
“I’ll fly it in the park,” Chris said. “Then it won’t get caught in any wires.”
“I’ll walk with you,” Andy exclaimed, “because that’s where I am headed.”
“What are you going to do in the park?” Chris asked.
“I’m going to play outfield for my brother and his friends,” Andy replied, “if they’ll let me. Sometimes when they don’t have enough big players, they let me play.”
“That’s how my brother is,” Chris said.
When they arrived at the park, Andy looked at the ball players. “See those boys over there? That’s my brother and his friends.”
“I can see my brother playing first base,” said Chris. “You go ahead, Andy. I know you want to play ball.”
“I’ll help you get the kites set up first,” Andy answered.
As they put the strings on the kites, Katy ran through the grass sniffing at all the smells of the park. The wind was stronger now.
“You don’t have to help me anymore, Andy,” Chris told him.
“I know,” Andy replied. “I just want to see how the fish flies in this wind.”
So Andy let out the string and ran with the fish kite.
Chris let out his string and ran with the red kite.
Andy’s fish climbed up into the air. Then the fish dived and dipped back down. Andy pulled on the string and ran faster.
The giant fish went up, up, up—higher than his head, higher than the trees.
Andy let out more and more string. The fish went up until it seemed to be as high as the little white clouds that the wind was pushing across the sky.
Andy looked around for Chris. He saw him not very far away with the red kite high in the air.
Andy heard his brother call, “Hey, Andy, do you want to play right field?”
“No, thanks,” Andy called back. “I can’t now. The wind is just right for flying kites.”
Chris smiled at Andy. “It’s a good day for flying kites,” he laughed.
“It’s perfect,” Andy agreed. “Let’s do this again tomorrow.”
Andy looked at his new friend. Chris was the same size as Andy. Just the right size!

I saw signs that I was attracted to other women when I was quite young, but I tried to push those feelings away for years.
A few summers ago, I developed feelings for a woman who is also gay. This was something that I had never experienced before, and I spent weeks praying to know what God wanted me to do about this relationship.
With everything I’ve been taught about the gospel, God’s will probably should have been obvious to me, but because of my feelings, it wasn’t. My feelings for this woman were real, powerful, and so important to me.
I was in turmoil for weeks. I expected the answer to my prayers to be obvious. But instead, I felt very distinctly that Heavenly Father was inviting me to use my agency to decide to follow Him.
For years, I had blamed God for all that was missing in my life—for everything I seemingly couldn’t do. I felt like a martyr as I kept His commandments, like I was meant to suffer alone through mortality. But as I grappled with my feelings for this woman, I eventually realized that I have always had the power to choose how to live my life—agency is one of Heavenly Father’s most powerful gifts to us.
I truly loved and cared for this woman. But those feelings didn’t weigh as much as my teaspoon of faith in the truth that Heavenly Father wanted me to choose a different path.
And it was that small, imperfect teaspoon of faith that enabled me to choose Christ.
I was devastated after I made my decision to end this relationship, and frankly, I am still healing from the heartbreak. But looking back, and after many moments of pondering and prayer, I’ve realized that Heavenly Father would have loved me whether I chose to keep my covenants or pursue a same-sex relationship. But because I chose to keep my covenants, He has been able to love and bless me.
As I have deepened my faith and commitment to the gospel of Jesus Christ, mountains in my life are being moved, one pebble at a time, just as President Nelson promised:
My family relationships have deepened and are full of honesty, vulnerability, compassion, and trust.
My negative self-image is improving one day at a time.
My ability to love others, love myself, and feel loved is being augmented daily.
My love of the gospel has increased.
My eyes have been opened to how much Heavenly Father wants to bless me each day.
I don’t know what to expect about my attraction to women. I don’t know if it will change or what is in store for me in that experience. But I truly believe that as I embrace the fulness of the gospel, I will be given the opportunity to marry a man whom I love in the temple one day. That is a desire I have for my future. Right now, marriage still seems scary, but with faith in Christ, I am preparing for this mountain to be moved. I know that as I keep my covenants, Heavenly Father will pave my path with wonderful experiences.

The spiritual roots of my family tree have been strengthened for three generations because of the unwavering faith of my great-grandfather.

Another example in my family history reminds me not to doubt. In 1913 in Mexico, Elder Ernest Young and his companions preached the gospel to my great-great-grandmother Maria de Jesus de Monroy, a widow; her three daughters, Natalia, Jovita, and Guadalupe; and her only son, Rafael—my great-grandfather. They were baptized on June 10. Two months later, citizens of the United States left the country because of the Mexican Revolution.

On August 29, 1913, the day President Rey L. Pratt and all American missionaries were to depart, Rafael Monroy, a 34-year-old convert of two months, went to the mission home to express his concern. “What is going to become of us?” he asked. “There is no organized branch in San Marcos, and we don’t have the priesthood.” Listening to Rafael’s concerns, President Pratt asked him to sit down. He placed his hands on Rafael’s head, conferred on him the Melchizedek Priesthood, ordained him an elder, and set him apart as president of the San Marcos Branch.

Rafael, who understood that his baptismal covenant was sacred and eternal, also understood that he should share the gospel. For 23 months he and his counselor, Vicente Morales, helped in the conversion and baptism of more than 50 people. They preached to dozens more.

Then, on July 17, 1915, the revolution arrived in San Marcos. Revolutionary soldiers accused Rafael and Vicente of belonging to and supporting the opposing army, hiding weapons, and belonging to a strange religion. They took them prisoner, tortured them, and hanged them until they fainted. Then the soldiers gave them one last chance to save their lives. They would be spared if they would renounce their religion. Rafael answered, “I cannot do it, for I know that what I have received is true.”

Rafael and Vicente did not doubt. They acted consistent with their knowledge and testimony. At the end of that day, they were executed by the Liberation Army of the South, giving their lives for what they believed.1

When leaders from around the world came to her hometown, young artist Noel Peterson put her best art forward. Selected to display her drawing “The Visionaries of Pittsburgh” in a show for Michelle Obama and other first ladies of the G-20 Summit, Noel took the chance to share both her talents and her beliefs. “While I stood by my piece and answered the leaders’ questions, I was often able to mention that I draw my inspiration from God. It was my goal to let people know that I believe in Him.”

Friends who don’t share your standards could actually weaken and tear your standards down. When I first moved to my new school, I tried to fit in by saying some of the things people around me would say. I almost forgot some of my standards while trying to be like everyone. I know now that in order to build your standards, you need friends who support and share your standards. I’m grateful I eventually found friends like that because they remind me of my standards.
Logan J., age 15, Utah, USA

I grew up in a home where my father was not a member of the Church and my mother was less active. That all changed later, and they spent much of their life as temple workers. With that background I didn’t know much about the Church, even though I thought I did. When I was about to graduate from the university, the Lord brought an angel into my life. Her name was Jeanene Watkins. She was a beautiful girl. It took me a long time to date her because so many others recognized her wonderful qualities. As we began to date, I discovered that she was all I had ever dreamed of finding. I fell completely in love with her. I could tell she had deep feelings for me also. One night when we were talking about the future, she carefully wove into the conversation an important comment. She said, “When I marry, it will be to a returned missionary in the temple.” I don’t remember anything else she said. I hadn’t thought much about a mission and didn’t understand much about temple marriage. I went home and couldn’t think of anything else. I was awake all night. I couldn’t do anything at the university the next day. Soon I was at the bishop’s office, having prayed about the importance of a mission. Jeanene and I both went on missions and when we returned were sealed in the temple. Much later I came to realize that she would have left me had I not made the right choices. Jeanene’s courage in standing up for her dream of a temple marriage to a returned missionary, regardless of her love for me, has made all of the difference in our lives together. I will never be able to thank her adequately for not compromising her righteous dreams.

Service is something Dusti, a member of the Riverton Utah First Ward, strongly believes in. When her brother was on his mission in Peru, he mentioned in one of his letters that some of the newly baptized members lacked appropriate clothing to wear to church. Dusti decided to help.
For one of her Value Projects, Dusti asked her friends to donate dresses that the Peruvian Saints could wear to church. When others found out what she was doing, clothing of all kinds began pouring in to the Bills’s home. After collecting and sorting, Dusti filled several suitcases to take with her family when they traveled to Peru to pick up her brother. The bags were crammed with everything from white baptismal clothes to suits for potential missionaries.
Dusti’s help didn’t stop there. Her new wheelchair had arrived a few days before she left Utah, so Dusti was more than willing to leave her old chair at the mission home in Lima. It would go to a woman who recently had a stroke and was no longer able to walk.
“I was just glad someone who needed it got to use it,” Dusti says.
Along with finding grateful Saints who were thrilled with their new clothes, Dusti found a little bit of herself, too.
“You could tell that the members were humble and they really believed in the Church and Jesus Christ. That made me think, I do know that the Church is the right one,” says Dusti. “I believe that Jesus Christ has a plan for everybody.”

“We have found that the young, single sisters are some of the biggest helps in the stake,” says Sister Keeney. “They are always looking for ways to help the sisters through service. One time we needed someone to come teach the Korean sisters in the stake how to make hamburgers and hot dogs and pizza, because their children were asking for American food, and the mothers didn’t know how to prepare it. So the young, single sisters showed them how, and they were really edified to be able to serve in that manner.”

In 2019 I was called to the Philippines Quezon City Mission. Serving there was like living a dream—I’d always loved the Filipino culture and really wanted to learn Tagalog. But my missionary experience also taught me the true nature of our heavenly parents, and when I returned home to Samoa last year, I felt a strong desire to see my family sealed to each other for time and all eternity.
We have some work to do before we can achieve that goal. My parents are still new to the gospel and continue to learn. My brother is still finding his path, exploring if a mission is in his future. Fiasili and I continue to persevere. We are determined to “press forward with a steadfastness in Christ, having a perfect brightness of hope, and a love of God and of all men” (2 Nephi 31:20), as we strive to help deepen our family’s conversion.

Thirty-eight years ago this month, Dean and I, then newlyweds, traveled to New Mexico to visit my parents. While we were there, my father took us on a day trip into the mountains in the northern part of the state. In the afternoon we encountered a car stranded on the roadside with a flat tire. The driver told my father that his spare was also flat and he needed a ride to the nearest town to get the tire fixed. My father, seeing the man’s family inside the car, said to him, “You’ll never be able to get to town and back before dark. But listen, you have the same size wheel as mine. Take my spare, and the next time you come to Albuquerque, bring it back to me.”
The stranger, shocked by the offer, said, “But you don’t even know me.”
Daddy’s response, typical for him, was, “You’re an honest man, aren’t you? You’ll bring the tire back.”
A few weeks later I asked my dad about the spare tire. He told me that it had been returned.

My daughter Jacque and I once attended a Primary daddy-daughter party together. The girls had all prepared box lunches for the meal. For dessert, each father and daughter were to decorate a cake. Because I am a dentist, Jacque and I made a giant icing tooth on our cake. Of course, after the eating, there were games and contests.
One of the games we played that night was a relay contest. The Primary leaders had placed four plastic bowling pins in a pattern on the floor of the cultural hall. Each father was to blindfold his daughter. Then he was to direct her through and around the pins, across the cultural hall, and then back to the starting point, where the next pair would begin. He was not to touch her with his hands; he could only use his voice to tell her which way to go. We were divided into two teams.
It seemed such a simple game, but it was actually quite difficult. Most of the fathers would holler, “Go right!” or, “Go left!” or, “Stop!” or “Go straight!” But with both teams cheering loudly, it was easy for a girl to confuse the voice of the opposing team’s father with her own father’s voice. Often the two girls racing each other would get the instructions mixed up. Also, some of the fathers gave their instructions hesitantly, and so lost precious time. And some of the daughters did not follow the instructions accurately. They either went too fast or moved in the wrong direction and occasionally knocked down some pins.
But there was one father and daughter who surprised us all. This father had a serious disease that interfered with his coordination. His movement and speech were slow. When it was their turn and the blindfold was in place, I heard the father say to his daughter, “Don’t worry about left or right or fast or slow. Just walk at a steady pace and listen to my voice. I’ll keep talking the whole time, and you just follow the sound of my voice.”
At the signal they began, and he gently repeated over and over, “Just follow my voice,” or, “Don’t listen to the others, just to me.” I was amazed as they steadily walked with short steps right through the course, much faster than any of the others, so fast in fact that their team won.

As an “active nonmember,” as everyone called me, I learned to have patience and hope that one day I would become a member of the Church. I knew it was a test of my faith and patience. I wondered how long it would take to be cleansed and start a new life.
That day came almost seven years after my friend took me to church on that cold February morning in 2000. I was baptized at 21 at the mission home in Sofia. My baptism day was one of the happiest days of my life. At that moment I felt the great redeeming love Heavenly Father has for me. I felt that even more when I partook of the sacrament the next day. I couldn’t hold back the tears. The Spirit burning inside me was telling me it was worth waiting for. I could finally enjoy the gift of the Holy Ghost and other blessings of being a member of the Church.

Yes, you may have many humorous experiences on your mission, but those experiences which will be the most joyful and rewarding to you, and which will be with you throughout eternity, will be the times when the Spirit will work through you to touch the lives of others, such as Sister Ciardo from Sardinia, Italy, who joined the Church and came to Scotland on a mission. As Sister Ciardo left for her mission, her mother would hardly speak to her and her father said she would never be welcome back home again. But the faith of this young lady brought forth a miracle.
Approximately a year after Sister Ciardo had been on her mission, she came to see me one day with tears running down her face. She had a letter in hand from her mother. I, too, had tears come to my eyes as I read the letter telling her daughter she had been baptized and that her father was attending church and was going to listen to the discussions.
I think of a Tony Ridden and a Tracy McFall from Scotland who were baptized a couple of years ago, coming from backgrounds that you would never have thought this possible. Yet both stood and spoke just a few months ago at their own missionary farewells with tears in their eyes, expressing love and gratitude for the elders who brought the gospel into their lives.
Just how important is a Sister Ciardo, a Tony Ridden, a Tracy McFall, and many others just like them? The Lord gives us the answer to that question: “Remember the worth of souls is great in the sight of God;
“For, behold, the Lord your Redeemer suffered death in the flesh; wherefore he suffered the pain of all men, that all men might repent and come unto him. …
“Wherefore, you are called to cry repentance unto this people.
“And if it so be that you should labor all your days in crying repentance unto this people, and bring, save it be one soul unto me, how great shall be your joy with him in the kingdom of my Father!” (D&C 18:10–11, 14–15.)
O youth of noble birthright, I bear witness to you this night that if you will commit, prepare, and with a willing heart go forth to serve Jesus Christ and preach his gospel, great will be your blessings and reward. Listen to the words of our Savior:
“Ye are blessed, for the testimony which ye have borne is recorded in heaven for the angels to look upon; and they rejoice over you, and your sins are forgiven you.” (D&C 62:3.)
“Ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood.” (1 Pet. 2:9.)
Stay on the Lord’s side and you will find eternal joy and fulfillment. I bear my witness to you that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God. This is His church. President Ezra Taft Benson is our living prophet, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

I was baptized on 20 December 1995. Before I was baptized, I read the Questions and Answers section of the Liahona (English) in the November 1995 issue, entitled “I Don’t Feel the Spirit. Is There Something Wrong with Me?” I was touched because I also hadn’t felt the Spirit during Church meetings. But after I read the readers’ answers and testimonies, I tried harder to listen to the sacrament meeting speakers and I felt the Spirit as I never had before. I now make an effort to become interested in what speakers have to say in Church meetings.
Lorna Penuliar,La Trinidad Second Ward, Baguio Philippines Stake