Gospel Story Finder

Repentance produces changes in attitudes and behavior, but simply changing attitudes and behavior is not repentance.
During my service as the president of Brigham Young University–Idaho, I talked one Sunday afternoon with a campus bishop. Without disclosing the identity of the individual, he explained to me that he had received a confession from a young person who made the following statement: “Bishop, I violated the law of chastity Friday night. Talking with you is the last thing on my list of things to do to repent. Now that I have confessed, I feel great.”
Recognizing and forsaking sin; feeling remorse and making restitution for sin; and confessing sins to God and, when needed, to our priesthood leaders are all necessary and important elements in the repentance process. However, these essential steps do not constitute a mere behavioral checklist we can mechanically, quickly, and casually complete. If we do these things and fail to recognize and depend upon the Redeemer and His atoning sacrifice, then even our best efforts are in vain.

Several years ago our family attended a Latter-day Saint Scout Training Camp. Our older children joined in the activities and were having a wonderful time. However, our nine-year-old autistic son, Brian, was having a difficult time. The Cub Scout events were not designed for someone with social and language impairments. I felt hurt, humiliated, and brokenhearted as I observed the intolerance and impatience directed toward my normal-appearing but handicapped son’s inappropriate behavior. He was as miserable as his peers.

So at a Relief Society meeting at the camp I took a few moments to explain Brian’s disability and share some of the challenges we were facing in rearing him. After that, the sisters began explaining the situation to their families. Within an hour the entire camp had learned about Brian.

Never have I seen such a complete reversal in attitude, nor felt such an outpouring of love and acceptance. It confirmed my belief that the Church is made up of wonderful people who will respond in a Christlike manner when they understand others’ needs. They’ll not only respond, but they’ll also be better because of it.

Thirty years later, the benefits of having simple and clear goals such as these came into sharp focus during an unexpected exchange with one of my colleagues. During January of 2000, my wife and I were called to preside over an undisclosed mission for a three-year period. Due to the length of that assignment, I would need to step down from my university position and faculty appointment, with little likelihood of ever returning to such a position. Still, Margaret and I accepted the call because we had faith it had come from the Lord and would be a great blessing.
Shortly thereafter, I sent a note to several of my colleagues so they would hear our plans directly from me. One of those colleagues called me a few days later. His first question was, "Is it true?" When I responded affirmatively, he incredulously asked, "Are you crazy?" followed by a firm, "We need to talk."
That same day, over lunch, we had a fascinating conversation. My colleague knew a fair bit about our church, having worked closely with me and a few other LDS colleagues. He explained that he had always found his LDS colleagues to be level headed and relatively conservative but he considered my decision to leave a senior position at the university before I was old enough to retire in order to take a volunteer position without pay somewhere in the world to be radically unconscionable.
I calmly responded by telling him what my long-term goals had been since the time of my mission at age 19. I explained that I had always considered myself a faithful Priesthood holder, willing and anxious to serve wherever needed. Furthermore, having watched my own parents serve in a similar position towards the end of their working career, I knew the blessings it would bring to our family.
I then asked this colleague why it seemed so crazy to him. He proceeded to tell me how his goal had always been to be a senior faculty administrator at the university. He couldn't imagine how someone could give up all of that based on a single phone call from a church leader. I simply explained that I viewed it as trading a wonderful job and environment for an even more rewarding opportunity and assignment.
By the end of our discussion, he was still confused by our decision but did acknowledge the consistency between my identity, what I valued most, and my new assignment, even if it was different from his own ideals. I left that meeting most grateful that, years earlier, I had prioritized identity goals focused on my relationship with the Lord, with Margaret and with our family above temporal goals based on the world's measures of success.

And that learning is not just limited to the learning of spiritual truths and academic truths; it can also guide us in learning about any topic worthy of our consideration. As I look back on my decision as to which career I should pursue, it too was guided by the application of the Lord’s pattern of “learning by faith”.

In my case, discovering and refining the pursuit of a specific career took years to clarify, not weeks or months. As an undergraduate, I knew that I loved mathematics and science. Then as a missionary, I gained a great love of teaching and of helping others to learn in ways that could profoundly bless their lives. Thus, as a senior in college, I decided with the Lord’s help that I should pursue a Masters degree and a PhD in a graduate school of business.

While a Ph.D. student, I had many wonderful teachers, but among the most inspiring were two young professors, one of whom was Henry B. Eyring, now a member of the First Presidency. Their examples and assistance with my dissertation helped me select the career of teaching in a business school upon graduation. But I was still undecided on which of two disciplines to pursue in my teaching and research. Again with the Lord’s help, I concluded that for me, technology and operations was where I would be the happiest and could make the most meaningful contributions. Thus while there was clearly a process of convergence to what was to be the focus of my career for the next 35 years or so, that convergence took place over the span of five years and was repeatedly assisted by applying the pattern of “learning by faith”.

I remember some years ago, our family seemed to be limited to three children as my wife was not able to become pregnant again. She questioned why and started to blame herself. She prayed day after day. Our children noticed her sadness, and they felt sad too.
Finally I called our children together. In council, we decided to have a special prayer. I prayed; then each child prayed in turn. We had a wonderful feeling, and the Spirit of the Lord was there. Our children believed that their mother would have another baby. Approximately 10 months later, our fourth child was born. What joy we felt and what a testimony that was to my wife and me and our children.

Jessica P. and Nory A., two young women who live on Santa Cruz, know this personally. They are both converts and have both seen the difference keeping the commandments makes. There aren’t very many members in the Galápagos Islands (only 125 members in their branch out of around 25,000 people on their island). It can be difficult to stay on the strait and narrow path (see 1 Nephi 8:20; 2 Nephi 4:33; 31:17–19; Alma 7:19) with temptations such as alcohol and drugs all around.
Nory has seen the challenges in her own family. A year after her family was baptized, they were sealed in the Guayaquil Ecuador Temple. Not long after, however, several members of her family fell away. For a time she and her mom were the only ones who participated in church. How did she stay strong?
“Family home evening,” she says. “For a while, just my mom and I would hold it. Later my older brother and my dad started coming. And every time we study the gospel, my dad says, ‘This is for me.’ Now he is getting stronger and my brother too.”
Jessica has faced a different struggle. “Being the only member of the Church in my family is difficult,” she explains. Some of her family members don’t like the fact that she attends church. In fact, it can lead to arguments.
“Sometimes you wish that your parents, your family, were members of the Church,” she says, “so you could share things with them. That’s hard.
“When you have problems, you can’t go looking in the street or looking to alcohol because they won’t help at all. Instead I come to church, where I have good friends.
“They help me a lot. If I’m feeling down, there’s always Nory or other young women. When I come to church, I feel alive. I feel relief from all the problems in my life.”
Jessica and Nory have found joy in living the gospel. Or rather, they have found joy because they live the gospel.
The commandments, like the paths around Los Gemelos, don’t restrict us. They provide the guidance necessary to make us perfect through the Atonement of the Savior (see D&C 82:8–9). When we choose to keep the commandments, we are choosing to show love and devotion to God. We are choosing to be worthy of the companionship of the Holy Ghost. We are choosing to be worthy to receive inspiration, to be able to serve, to be able to enter the temple, and to honor the priesthood.
Most important, we are choosing to work toward eternal life in the celestial kingdom with our Father in Heaven. That is the pathway of peace and happiness.

“Pay attention, boys,” Brother Loder said, breaking into our discussion of the basketball game our team had lost the night before. “We have a service project to think about.”
Brother Loder leaned forward in his dark suit, placed his forearms on his knees, and held his black pocket calendar in front of him. Brother Loder was vice president of one of the banks in town and everything he did was always precise, proper, and meticulous. He studied his calendar a moment and then asked, “Well, men, what are we going to do?”
The room went quiet. I always hated this part of our planning session. Service projects never were my favorite things. I didn’t mind doing them, but coming up with the idea was always a problem. They were always so much the same.
“Sister Seymour might need some help,” Brother Loder suggested after observing our sudden silence.
“Yes, that sounds all right,” Chris Frei mumbled without conviction. “She can always use some help.”
I leaned back in my chair and stretched. “The widows always get helped,” I muttered. “Let’s do something else this month.”
“Do you have any suggestions, Kyle?” Brother Loder asked, glancing over at me and adjusting the tie that didn’t need adjusting.
I thought for a minute. “How about choosing a widower to help?”
Brad and Chris began to smile while Brother Loder shook his head and rolled his eyes toward the ceiling.
“We could activate Willard Watts,” I suggested, trying hard not to smile.
“Kyle, can we get back to our planning?” said Brother Loder, sternly.
“What’s wrong with activating Brother Watts?” I asked.
“Kyle, I’ve lived in the 12th Ward since I was a kid. To my knowledge Brother Watts has been inside this church twice during that time. Once for his wife’s funeral and the other time for a friend’s funeral. He smokes. He swears. For years he wouldn’t even let the home teachers inside his house. He’s been a prospective elder since I went on my mission.”
“Well, I say it’s about time we got him out to church.”
“Kyle, we want to end this planning session in the next few minutes.”
“So do we just give up trying to help him?”
“Kyle, he gave up on himself a long time ago.”
Because our stomachs were growling with hunger and we wanted to get home for lunch, Sister Seymour finally was nominated as our service project for the month, but as I left the church and walked home in the crisp January air, I couldn’t help thinking of Willard Watts and wondering what it was like to be given up by everyone.
Willard lived just five houses away from me in a small, red brick home with a large garage. He had been an automobile mechanic for years, so he’d set up an auto shop in his garage to make repairs in his spare time. He was a heavyset, old man with gray, short-cropped hair, a round head, and flat nose. He rarely spoke or smiled, and always looked mean.
Before I went into the house that Sunday afternoon, I glanced down the street toward Brother Watts’s place where a few patches of old snow littered his lawn. His old truck was parked in front and the living room drapes were pulled closed.
Mom called me in to dinner and that made me forget all about Willard.

Juliana was a little bit scared to give a talk in Primary.
Grandma gave Juliana a hug. “Heavenly Father will help you,” she whispered.
When it was her turn, Juliana saw her friends, her teacher, and Grandma and Grandpa all smiling at her. Then she gave her talk.
“I am a child of God. I show that I love Heavenly Father by learning about Jesus, saying my prayers, and helping my family. I know that Heavenly Father and Jesus love me too. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”
After Primary, Juliana gave Grandma a big hug. “I wasn’t scared,” she said. “I knew that Heavenly Father was helping me.”

The Laurels in the Chatsworth Second Ward, Los Angeles California Chatsworth Stake, learned a great lesson about service when they cleaned an elderly lady’s house one Saturday.
Armed with buckets, mops, soap and rags, they cleaned the house until it sparkled inside and out. The sister they helped is confined to a wheelchair and greatly appreciated their service.
“I know the Spirit was with us because we felt so close to one another after we had finished,” said Julie Jensen, president of the Laurel class. “After this experience we knew that it wasn’t only the work we were helping her with, but that we made her feel so happy. That is what service projects are all about.”
The Laurels all agreed that they should do even more service projects, because they learned such a valuable lesson with this one.

Everybody loves Peanuts, according to Joyce Ensign, Logan, Utah. So she invited guests to a Peanuts party with Snoopy cards instructing each guest to bring his own security blanket and to come representing his favorite character from this famous cartoon series. The place was decorated with Peanuts posters, stuffed toys, and bowls of peanuts, of course. People sat on the security blankets and had a sing-along with music from “You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown.” Reading aloud from Peanuts wit and wisdom, and munching on frosted grahams and gigantic lollipops topped off the party.

A number of years ago Morgan High School played Millard High for the Utah state football championship. From his wheelchair, to which he was confined, Morgan coach Jan Smith said to his team: “This is the most important game of your lives. You lose, and you will regret it forever. You win, and you will remember it forever. Make every play as though it were all-important.”
Behind the door, his wife, to whom he tenderly referred as his chief assistant, overheard her husband say: “I love you guys. I don’t care about the ball game. I love you and want the game victory for you.” Underdog Morgan High won the football game and the state championship.

A young man shared with me an experience he had the first day he arrived on this campus, an experience that taught him a valuable lesson. He had left his home and parents and traveled all the way across the United States to attend Brigham Young University when he was just seventeen years old. He left with a feeling of excitement for this opportunity to be on his own. He looked forward to this new independence and “freedom.” He was rather happy to be away from the close supervision of his parents. This thought enticed him, for he could now do, or not do, anything he wished.

As he went into the administration building to get his identification card, one of the first persons he met said to him, “Aren’t you the son of—?” and she mentioned his mother’s name. “I’ve known your mother for many years.”

As she expressed her respect and special regard for his mother, this fine young man determined that he would never do anything to disappoint or discredit her—or his father. Being away from his parents had become all the more reason to live as they had taught him and to honor them by living honorably and righteously himself.

I sat at my desk one Monday morning looking at all the e-mails that had piled up over the weekend. Always suspicious of a computer virus, I was almost ready to delete an e-mail and its attachment that were from an unknown sender. But as my finger paused on the mouse button, ready to click, the Spirit prompted me to open the message.
“Hello, Elder Rian Jones,” it began. “You are now around 50 years old, and I am 37. I have only a vague remembrance of your person, and I am not sure if the man I remember is the one I am writing to.” Actually, I was 45 years old, and who was this person who would address me as “Elder”? I hadn’t been called that since my mission. The writer then asked if I was still active in the Church and had kept the spirit of my mission. My curiosity was really piqued now.
“I was only 12 years old when you and your companion taught me the gospel in Taranto, Italy. The year was 1975.” My mind raced as I tried to recall the writer. “You are probably asking yourself if I baptized me. No, you didn’t, because my mother and father refused permission.” The writer went on to explain how painful and embarrassing it was for him and his brother to stop the missionaries on the steps of their apartment building as we were going to ask his parents for permission to baptize him. He recounted how he kept coming to church for a while but eventually stopped because he could not be baptized. “But I kept the teachings in my heart and never betrayed the principles I was taught,” he wrote.
I served in the Italy Rome Mission from 1975 to 1977, and Taranto was my first city. But I could not recall the story that was unfolding in this e-mail. The writer explained that when he was 22 years old he was called into compulsory military service in northern Italy. There he suffered a spiritual crisis that caused him to pray for the first time as an adult. He received an answer to his prayers, and because of this, he sought out the missionaries in that area. He found them at a fast-food restaurant and told them he wanted to be baptized. “Nothing like that ever happened to me on my mission,” I thought. Those elders must have been shocked.
He was baptized and later married in the temple at Friedrichsdorf, Germany. He now had three children, had moved to Canada several years ago, and was an active member of the Church.
“I don’t know if you will ever answer this e-mail. If you do, I will tell you many other things about my life and how I have been blessed by your mission. Elder, you never know where a small, good action can lead.” He signed his e-mail “Cesare Quarinto.” Later he told me he had found my e-mail address on the Italy Rome Mission Web site.
Try as I might, I could not recall the experience of teaching a 12-year-old boy in Taranto. But the attachment to the e-mail was a page he had scanned from an old copy of the Book of Mormon. It was a dedication, written in my handwriting in Italian, dated September 14, 1975. It read:
“Dear Cesare,
“I am giving you this gift so that you can read it to find the beautiful truth of the gospel of Jesus Christ. Don’t ever forget prayer, because it is only through prayer that you can find the truth. … I know this is the true Church, and I hope to share this truth with you.
“Your friend,
“Elder Rian Jones”
Suddenly I had a perfect recollection. Seeing the words I had written caused the memory to return. I recalled vividly the rented space we used for a chapel in Taranto. We taught young Cesare the gospel in that building. I had given him his own copy of the Book of Mormon shortly before I was transferred to another city. Recalling the circumstances and reading Cesare’s e-mail, I was overcome with joy.
I did have some success on my mission, but unfortunately most of the people I baptized had fallen away from the Church over the years. Now a scripture came to mind: “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 18:15).

In a recent general conference message, President Henry B. Eyring, Second Counselor in the First Presidency, spoke about the perilous times in the world: “The Apostle Paul wrote to Timothy, ‘This know also, that in the last days perilous times shall come’ (2 Timothy 3:1).
“… And so it will become more difficult, not easier, to honor the covenants we must make and keep to live the gospel of Jesus Christ.”1
As I heard these words, I felt anxious. I was already dealing with challenges in my home in Venezuela. So questions like, “How can I stay optimistic when the world is so dark?” and “How can I look forward to a bright future in such a blackened present?” were in my heart at the time.
But President Eyring offered the solution. He quoted Helaman 5:12, which speaks about building our foundation “upon the rock of our Redeemer, who is Christ.”
I have always believed that this scripture was true, but building my foundation on the Savior seemed a lot easier said than done. Nonetheless, as I have drawn closer to Christ, I have seen that everything works for your good when your faith is firm in Him (see Doctrine and Covenants 90:24).
A couple of months ago, I received devastating news from my family. My world seemed to be crumbling in front of me. I felt numb, confused, and so anxious that I even got sick!
I did not understand why we were facing such hardships when I was trying to be faithful. I wondered if I’d done something wrong. The future looked bleak, and I felt abandoned by Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.
In the middle of my affliction, I talked to a good friend. He told me something I will never forget: “I think this situation is a good opportunity for you to ponder on your personal relationship with the Lord. No matter what happens, it is up to you to turn to Him for help. If you do, He will provide you with the love and relief you need right now.”
Those words changed my perspective. I was angry and hurt and confused by my circumstances, but I had a choice. No matter what we’re going through, what fears we have, or what difficulties we are facing, Jesus Christ is always right beside us. We have the choice to turn toward Him with faith, not away from Him, in troubling times.
That is how we strengthen our foundation of faith in Him and withstand the hardship in the world. By choosing Him.
As Elder D. Todd Christofferson of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles taught: “In the midst of this refiner’s fire, rather than get angry with God, get close to God. Call upon the Father in the name of the Son. Walk with Them in the Spirit, day by day. Allow Them over time to manifest Their fidelity to you. Come truly to know Them and truly to know yourself.”2
Christ was waiting for me to turn to Him for help. That didn’t mean He would make all my problems go away or fix everything in my life and family instantly, but He helped me become better, find joy, and become more refined.
And over time, as I sought the Savior through prayer, scripture study, and faith, He helped me forgive my family members and invite joy into my life again, even though some challenges are still not solved.

That night she helps her mom fold towels and asks her, “Why is Dad always so happy? Hasn’t he ever experienced anything really hard?”
Her mom stops folding and looks at the towel she is smoothing. “Oh, he’s had some hard times. Maybe you’ve forgotten. Your dad’s mother—your grandma—died when he was 12. That was really hard. He lost the first business he started. Then he was diagnosed with a liver disease and diabetes all in the same year.” She pauses, begins to lift a stack of towels, puts them down, and continues. “He was sent to fight in Vietnam when he was 19. He’s told me some about that, but I know he hasn’t told me everything. His brother was killed there. That was probably the hardest for him; he used to wake up with nightmares.”
Amy doesn’t say a word. The rest of the weekend she hardly says anything at all until her research is finished. On Sunday her dad asks her to sit down and make a report to him.
“Dad, terrible things happened to Christ, but he spent his time lifting others. And there are others who were like that too. They did terrible things to Joseph Smith and his family, but even though he had the right to be really miserable he still found time to arm wrestle and play with the kids and things like that.”
“So, did you learn from your research that it’s okay to be a happy person?”
“It’s more than okay. I think Heavenly Father wants us to find joy in our lives while we’re here. Maybe it’s like a skill. If we learn it here we’ll be better at it in eternity.”
He smiles. “So your research really helped.”
“Actually, I think I learned the most from example. There’s this man, you see, and he’s had some hard things happen to him. But he likes to get up early every morning and go to the flower mart, he listens to corny comedy on the radio, and he’s been teaching me all along that being happy is an important skill.”
Her dad isn’t smiling anymore. She doesn’t remember ever seeing him look this serious. “We have our agency,” he says. “We choose how to react to the hard things in life. We can grow and have gratitude for our blessings, or we can be miserable and stagnate.”
“Dad, will you lighten up!”
“Here, let’s give these to your mom.” He takes an armload of wilted flowers from a large grocery bag, and the two of them carry the gift. Amy fully breathes in their fragrance.

“One day when I was about nine, Mother and Dad were on their way to a Church meeting and their car was struck by a train at a railroad crossing. Dad was unhurt in the accident, but Mother had one lung punctured and suffered many cuts and broken bones. The Latter-day Saint doctor who attended her shook his head and said, ‘She just can’t survive.’ But a member of our stake presidency gave her a blessing that she would recover. Soon the pain subsided, the lung healed, and the broken bones knitted together perfectly. Mother was born with a slight curvature of the spine, and afterward she good-naturedly teased, ‘If the Lord was going to mend my broken bones, surely He could have straightened my spine too.’

How long does it take to collect 10,000 pounds of food? The youth of the Marysville Washington Stake did it in about three hours! There were approximately 170 of them. And to be fair, they did get a little help from their adult leaders.
Dressed in yellow vests bearing the words “Mormon Helping Hands,” these young men and women went door-to-door in pairs gathering donations. Along the way, they had some very heartwarming experiences, most notably meeting a family who receives help from their local food bank and an obviously poor elderly woman who didn’t have much to spare. But in both cases, these people were deeply touched by the actions of the youth and still sacrificed by donating food. Talk about the widow’s mite!
The Marysville, Arlington, and Stanwood food banks were the recipients of the generous donations from individuals in each community. The directors of these three food banks were overwhelmed with gratitude for the amount of food donated by the community and collected by the youth and adults of the Marysville stake.

Several years ago I was teaching a group of nursery leaders how to give a short gospel lesson to very young children. One of the leaders had her young son on her lap. I held a picture of the Savior in my hand and, demonstrating how to speak to young children, began talking about Jesus. The tiny boy slid off his mother’s lap, toddled over to me, looked intently at the picture, and touched the face. At that point in the dialogue, I asked the question, “Who is this?” With a smile on his face, the child responded, “Jesus.”
This child was not old enough to really even say his own name, but he recognized the image and knew the name of the Savior. As I watched this sweet response, I thought of the words of the Savior when He said, “Seek the face of the Lord always, that in patience ye may possess your souls, and ye shall have eternal life” (D&C 101:38).

I had seen a picture of President Kimball hanging on the wall of the barbershop, and so I said: “I assume that you cut his hair.” The barber, Ross Pyper, replied: “Yes, I do.” I said: “Does he have to make an appointment also?” He replied: “No, not any more, but he used to. Often when Brother Arthur Haycock, his personal secretary, calls, the person who had an appointment has either called and cancelled the appointment or is late. So I tell Brother Haycock to tell President Kimball to come right over and I will arrange to cut his hair immediately upon his arrival.”
In a few minutes, the telephone rang, and I heard the barber say: “Yes, Brother Haycock, I can take him right now. Send him right over.”
The barber completed my haircut and I stepped out of the barber chair and sat down. I was determined that Melissa and I would not leave until President Kimball came and we could meet him. Melissa, my little daughter, who was spending the day with me, was so excited at the thought of meeting the prophet that she could hardly contain herself.
Soon President Kimball walked in, accompanied by a security man. The president shook hands with the barber, and then walked over and shook hands with us and was very congenial. He then got in the barber chair and the barber proceeded to cut his hair. During this time he conversed very warmly with those in the room. Melissa was so excited and spiritually touched that tears came to her eyes on several occasions. As I looked into his countenance, I knew that he truly is a prophet of God.
“Daddy, do you think we could get a picture of President Kimball?” Melissa whispered to me. I said, “I think it would be all right. Why don’t you rush out to our car and get your camera before he leaves.” I could see that the president was almost ready. In what seemed like five seconds, Melissa rushed in the front door with her camera at the same time President Kimball stepped down from the barber chair.
“President Kimball, I hope you don’t mind, but would you allow me to take a picture of you and my little daughter, Melissa?” I asked. “Not at all,” he said. I then adjusted the camera as President Kimball, with his arm around Melissa, and Melissa, with her arm around President Kimball, posed for the picture. He was then very gracious in allowing her to take a picture of him and me together, with my arm around him and his arm around me.
After this President Kimball bid all of us good-bye and shook our hands again. When he shook Melissa’s hand, she reached up and kissed him on the cheek and he responded by kissing her on the cheek. He then left, and Melissa and I were left marveling at the experience we had been so fortunate to have.

Some of the first forks were brought to Europe from Byzantium, a rich and powerful empire to the east. About a thousand years ago a Byzantine princess came to live in Venice, a city in Italy. She ate with a fork. The priests thought her way of eating was so fancy that it was sinful. They scolded her. They preached against her in church. Soon afterward, the princess caught a terrible disease and died. Many people believed that she was punished for using her fork.