Gospel Story Finder

I was drifting off to sleep the night before a trip when I received an impression to buy a rim and a tire for our 15-year-old minivan, which came without a spare. The next day I was busy and forgot about the impression. We loaded the vehicle with our three children and gear and headed to my dad’s house four hours away.
On the way, a tire on the van blew. We had the van towed to the nearest town to replace the tire. It cost three times what it would have to buy a rim and tire at home, and we lost 90 minutes waiting. I gained an appreciation for the promptings of the Spirit and decided to better follow them in the future.

As President Cowley’s traveling companion in the mission field, I received instructions from him to keep my briefcase packed with a couple of changes of clothing. He said, “When I say ‘We’re going,’ you grab your bag, start the car, and don’t ask any questions.”

When that would happen, I would grab my bag and go to the car. Being a young, eager missionary, I often wondered where we were going; but I didn’t ask.

Once, after we had driven a few kilometers, he asked, “Would you like to know where we’re going?”

I said, “Yes.”

Then he said, “So would I! I’m not sure just where we’re going, but we’ll keep going; and when the Lord tells us to turn, we’ll turn, and we’ll end up where He wants us to be.”

As a member of the teachers quorum, which has the responsibility to prepare the sacrament, Scott was faced with an unfortunate situation one Sunday: there weren’t enough sacrament cups for his large ward.
“I felt bad—feeling that we hadn’t fulfilled our duty,” Scott says. “We decided that the teachers had to be more organized, and now our quorum presidency meets the hour before sacrament meeting for our presidency meeting to make sure everything is in order for the sacrament and to prepare for the next few weeks. I like the order in the Church. When there is order, you don’t have to worry.”

There was to be one great final lesson before his mortal life ended. He was incarcerated in Carthage Jail with his brother Hyrum, with John Taylor, and with Willard Richards. The angry mob stormed the jail; they came up the stairway, blasphemous in their cursing, heavily armed, and began to fire at will. Hyrum was hit and died. John Taylor took several balls of fire within his bosom. The Prophet Joseph, with his pistol in hand, was attempting to defend his life and that of his brethren, and yet he could tell from the pounding on the door that this mob would storm that door and would kill John Taylor and Willard Richards in an attempt to kill him.
And so his last great act here upon the earth was to leave the door and lead Willard Richards to safety, throw the gun on the floor, and go to the window, that they might see him, that the attention of this ruthless mob might be focused upon him rather than the others. Joseph Smith gave his life. Willard Richards was spared, and John Taylor recovered from his wounds. “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends” (John 15:13). The Prophet Joseph Smith taught us love—by example.

Great friendships, of course, can be formed at any age.

Sean C., a 16-year-old from southern Utah, USA, knows how to be a friend as well as a home teacher. Sean has a broad range of interests that include competing in rodeo, wrestling, working with cattle, and repairing cars. He also loves cultivating friendships with the people he home teaches.

“I love talking to people and seeing what I can do to help them,” Sean says.

His home teaching companion is the bishop of their ward. In one home they visit, the wife is a member of the Church and the husband is not. Sean connected with the husband, Floyd, on their very first visit. As Floyd began talking about his Jeep, Sean perked up. “We just clicked,” says Sean.

In the year that Sean and the bishop have visited Floyd and his wife, Sean has strengthened those friendships—including helping Floyd work on engines from time to time.

One of Sean’s favorite scriptures is about service: “When ye are in the service of your fellow beings ye are only in the service of your God” (Mosiah 2:17).

Sean explains, “Everybody needs to be looking out to find ways to serve.”

I grew up in Idaho Falls, Idaho, on the edge of town. Across the street were fields where pheasants flew and where we played in the snow. Later our new chapel was built there. I went over every night after school to help build the chapel, handing bricks to bricklayers and cleaning up the construction site. I remember that I took great pride in that chapel. I wanted to take good care of it because I had helped build it.
My mom has been a Relief Society president and a Young Women president. Dad was not active in the Church, but he was a very good man.
My testimony has always been a part of me. I have always had a gift of faith. I remember saying my prayers every night, even when I didn’t feel like it.
I also knew that I felt at peace with myself when I did what was right. I learned when I was in the third or fourth grade how it felt to make a wrong choice. The rules at school were that we could not throw snowballs and that we could not go off the school grounds. One day I got in a snowball fight and crossed the street to get the advantage in the fight. Afterward I felt bad because I knew I had done something wrong.
I remember going to the Idaho Falls Temple when I was twelve to do baptisms for the dead. I felt really good about doing that. I encourage you to do that when you have the opportunity.
As we were growing up, my younger brother and sister and I had lots of fun. We didn’t play video games or watch TV. We played active games—red rover, kick the can, and cowboys—and we floated in inner tubes down the irrigation canal where Mom had taught me to swim.
We always had work to do. When I was eight or nine, we picked potatoes for farmers. We earned seven and a half cents for each half sack we picked. At eleven, I got a paper route. I remember coming home after delivering papers in weather twenty degrees below zero and sitting on my hands to try to warm them up. Later on I hoed beets, moved sprinkler pipe, and hauled hay. And when I was a little older, I paid for braces for my teeth with money I earned working at a grocery store.
My parents always felt that it was important for me to get an education. When I was a junior in high school, I wanted to buy a car. It was the prettiest car I’d ever seen, a white 1950 Oldsmobile convertible, and its price was four hundred dollars. I had just four hundred dollars in my bank account. This is going to work out great, I thought.
When I told my mom about my plan, she asked, “How will you get to college?” Then she said, “I believe that if you will save your money and go to college, you will be able to buy an even nicer car.” I thought and prayed about it and decided that she was right. I saved my money and went on to college. Then, when I had finished the “twenty-second grade” and had my bachelor’s, master’s, and doctoral degrees, I bought an old classic convertible. I still drive this car. It reminds me that if you are patient, follow good counsel, and follow the Spirit’s guidance to do what’s right, there will be all kinds of rewards.
Buying and acquiring things when you are young is unwise. Invest in yourself with education. And the kind of education we will need most through the eternities is spiritual.
Dad was very keen on my going to school, and he had told me that I had better not go on a mission. But one night I talked with my friend Harry about missions until 2:00 A.M. He told me, “You have the opportunity to go on a mission now. You might not always have that opportunity.”
I didn’t know if Dad would support me, but I asked my mother to ask him. When I finished my first year of college, I went home. We were doing the dishes one night, when my dad said, “Stephen, if you want to go on a mission, that will be all right.”
I was called to serve my mission in France. After serving twenty-eight months, I got a telegram telling me that my dad had died of a heart attack. I went home to attend the funeral and to help Mom, and Harry’s words came back to me: “You might not always have the opportunity to go on a mission.” If I had put off serving my mission, my widowed mother could not have afforded to send me.
Many of you children today feel unsettled and worried. You hear about serious problems and dangers in the world. But you do not need to be fearful. There is a way to be guided away from what’s bad for you. Your parents and the Holy Ghost will help you if you will just ask what is good and right for you.

It was a hot summer day in southern California, and I was a typical teen enjoying my summer by sleeping late. I was getting out of bed when the doorbell rang. I raced my mom to the door. We were both surprised by a group of 10 to 15 teens my age.
They greeted us with a smile and explained that as part of a youth conference they were on a service scavenger hunt for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. They showed us a list of services and asked my mom to check off the items on the list they could do. My mom did, and they were soon busy pulling weeds, washing windows, and mowing our lawn. It was fun watching them all work together.
When the chores were complete, you could tell they had worked hard by the sweat on their faces and the dirt on their hands, but they looked pleased with the work they had done and thanked us for the opportunity to serve.
My mom offered them a big tip, but they refused. Feeling like they should not leave without us giving them something, I quickly ran into the house and returned with cold glasses of water.
After refreshing themselves, they asked if they could leave us with a song. As they sang “I Am a Child of God,” I felt a respect and love as you would for old friends, even though I had just met them.
I joined them for the next few houses, working side by side, feeling a sense of peace and acceptance. As I walked home, I was consumed in my own thoughts. I was in awe at how the youth were spending their day serving others.
I went straight to my room and wrote a thank-you letter for their service and how they had touched me. Without signing it, I put the letter and all the money I had, about $39, inside the envelope and drove to the church to tape it to the door.
From that day on, my life would never be the same. Not long after, I started spending time with youth in the Church and was touched spiritually by so many members helping me on my journey. Part of that journey was hearing the missionary discussions that led to my baptism a year later. Since that time, I have been married to a worthy man in the San Diego California Temple, and we have two beautiful daughters.
But there is a twist to my story. Five years after the experience with the youth, I was giving my first talk in sacrament meeting. I told the story of the day the youth came to my house. After sacrament meeting, the stake president introduced himself and told me he was at that same youth conference. At the testimony meeting ending the conference, some of the youth told about finding my envelope taped to the door. The stake president said that he still had my letter in his office because he knew that someday he would meet the person who wrote it and would return it.
I cherish that letter and have tucked it into my diary to remind me of those youth and their example to me and to so many others on that hot summer day.

A short while ago I heard the testimony of a woman who, with her husband, strayed from the path of safety, breaking commandments and, in the process, nearly destroying their family. When each of them could finally see through the thick haze of addiction and recognize how unhappy their lives had become, as well as how much they were hurting their loved ones, they began to change. The repentance process felt slow and was, at times, painful, but with the help of priesthood leaders, along with help from family and loyal friends, they made their way back.
I share with you a portion of this sister’s testimony of the healing power of repentance: “How does someone go from being one of the lost sheep and gripped by [sin], to this peace and happiness we now feel? How does that happen? The answer … is because of a perfect gospel, a perfect Son and His sacrifice for me. … Where there was darkness, there is now light. Where there was despair and pain, there is joy and hope. We have been infinitely blessed by the change that can only come through repentance made possible by the Atonement of Jesus Christ.”

My experiences have made me desire to emulate the Savior’s lifting of others. As I went through the divorce process, several people counseled me never to tear down my husband in front of our children. The wisdom of this advice was evident almost daily, as occasions to demean him arose frequently. I prayerfully sought the ability to withhold criticism and to emphasize his positive traits.
At first this was extremely difficult because he had hurt me deeply and had made serious mistakes. But as I tried to help my children see his worth, my capacity to continue doing so increased. Each time I used words that built him up truthfully and fairly, I felt closer to the Savior. I chose to allow—even foster—the tender feelings my children have for their father. When the Spirit prompted me to pray for him in family prayer, I was able to do so with compassion.

Abraham Kwaku Fokuo joined the Church in August 1985, when his oldest daughter, Alison, was 14 years old. He had traveled to Washington D.C. in the U.S., to do his master’s program. He had finished his masters and was working on a PHD in seminar at Wesley Seminary to become a Methodist minister. One day he was in his apartment filling out forms for a promised scholarship when he heard a knock at the door. He peeked through the hole and saw two young white men. He opened the door, and the two young men greeted him. He started being taught and then was baptized. Alison said, “Like Father Lehi, he realized that the fruits were desirable to taste, and he wanted his family members to enjoy the same, so he abandoned his studies and came back to Ghana”.

Elder McBride thought little of this promise upon his arrival in Samoa. He worked diligently to master the Samoan language. In his mission journal he wrote, “Fasted all day and prayed to the Lord in secret to help me learn the language. … I study very hard to get the language, but it is slow work.” Then, as he began to feel more sure of the language, he started to offer prayers and to bear his testimony at meetings and to teach in the Church-organized schools. He even helped in translating the Bible into Samoan.

Elder McBride encountered prejudice and opposition from the ministers of other churches on the islands. He wrote, “In looking around I find the field is by no means clear and prejudice staring me in the face as the Teachers have forbidden anyone attending our meetings.”

He learned to enjoy the unaccustomed food delicacies of the Samoan people and mentions feasting on roasted bat, ula (breadfruit), and palela (a kind of sea worm). He also grew to appreciate their sincere friendliness and hospitality.

Elder McBride and his companion were called to travel to the island of Savaii to prepare for a conference to be held there. As they drew near the island in a boat, a fierce inland wind suddenly forced them back out to sea. Having no compass, they knew that they would be lost if they didn’t keep the island in sight. They and the Samoan men with them took turns rowing until all were exhausted, their hands blistered and raw.

Suddenly Elder McBride remembered the blessing that had been given to him. He arose at once and stretched forth his hands. In the name of Jesus Christ he commanded the winds and the waves to be still. Immediately the winds subsided, and the terrifying waves became peaceful, astonishing the frightened natives. Although the men were now far out to sea, they turned their boat toward the island and rowed to it safely.

Don Carlos McBride served two missions to the Samoan Islands, spending a total of nearly seven years there. In 1910, during his second mission, he was called to be the mission president. Despite the hardships and sacrifice involved, he served with obedience and love.

“ZZZZZ …” Eight-year-old Jason faked a snore, then burst into giggles. Lying in his bed, he pulled the blanket over his eyes and pretended to sleep. Across the dark room, his six-year-old brother snuggled into his pillow, then let out a long, dreamy sigh before he started to laugh as well. “Shh!” Jason whispered, pulling the blanket off his head. “We’re supposed to be sleeping!”
“I’m sleeping. I’m sleeping!” his brother whispered back. Both boys giggled again, then pulled the sheets up under their chins, squeezed their eyes shut, and lay as stiff as possible while they waited.
In the next room, their sister also waited, pretending to sleep. Down the hall, their brother waited, pretending to sleep. Even their mom, they knew, was lying in her dark bedroom, curled up under her covers, pretending to sleep.
A floorboard creaked in the shadowy hallway. Dad was somewhere nearby. Any moment now they would hear the signal. Jason listened intently, hardly breathing as he tried to guess where Dad might be standing at that moment. He was definitely coming closer. Any second now …
“BEEEEEP!” A screech blared throughout the house. Jason dropped to the floor and crawled toward the door on his hands and knees.
“Go, go, go!” his brother yelled, bumping into Jason’s side. “We have to get out!”
“Fire!” Jason shouted, crawling into the hallway. “Everyone out!”
“Everyone out!” Mom called. “Stay low!”
Dad joined them on the floor as they crawled down the hallway, into the kitchen, and out the back door. Once outside, they stood up and ran to the maple tree.
“Are we safe?” Dad asked. “Is everyone here?”
“We all made it,” Mom said, counting heads.
Dad looked at his stopwatch. “That was our best time yet,” he said. “Now everyone back to bed—for real this time.”
The next morning, as the family gathered for breakfast, Jason thought about the fire drill. “I’m glad we have an escape plan,” he said. “I feel safer with a fire alarm in our house.”
“Me too,” Mom agreed. “Having an alarm helps keep us safe—as long as we respond quickly when we hear it go off.”
Jason finished his breakfast. “Can I go over to Brett’s house now?” he asked. Brett was Jason’s next-door neighbor and one of his best friends.
“Yes,” Mom said. “Be safe and have a good time.”
Next door, the boys played with Brett’s dog, ran through the sprinklers, and built stick forts in the mud. Then Brett suggested they go inside. “I’m hot,” he said. “Let’s play video games.”
“OK,” Jason agreed. “Maybe I can beat you this time.”
“We can try a new game,” Brett said as the boys went inside. “Have you ever played this one before?” He held up the case for a game Jason didn’t recognize.
“I don’t think so. What’s it like?”
“You’ll see,” Brett said, sliding the disc into the game console.
Brett handed Jason a controller and sat down in front of the TV. Jason sat down beside him. As the game started, a screeching alarm went off in Jason’s conscience. The characters in this game looked like real people, and the clothes they were wearing—particularly the women’s clothes—didn’t cover very much of their skin. Jason felt uncomfortable. He knew he needed to escape.
“We need to play a different video game, or I need to go home,” Jason said. “I’m not comfortable with how those people are dressed.” Jason knew his friend might think he was weird for saying that, but he also knew he needed to pay attention to his feelings.
“No big deal,” Brett said. “We can play a different game.” Brett got out a car racing game. The alarm in Jason’s mind quieted as he heard the roar of the engines in the game. For Jason, nothing could have sounded better.

Consider this letter from one lovely young woman:
“I’m writing this,” she said, “from the depths of a broken heart, in the hope that it may be a warning to other girls never to partake of the bitterness that has come to me. I would give all that I have or ever hope to have if I could go back to those happy, carefree days before the first little taint of sin came upon my heart. I scarcely realized I was slipping into something that could bring such sorrow and ruin into a person’s life.
“I wish I could reveal to you the anguish and regret that fill my heart today, the loss of self-respect and the realization that life’s most priceless gift has slipped away from me. I reached out too eagerly for the excitements and thrills of life, and they have turned to ashes in my hands.”
This young woman, unfortunately, discovered that the heaviest burden one may have to bear in this life is “the burden of sin.” (Harold B. Lee, “Stand Ye in Holy Places,” Ensign, July 1973, p. 122.)

The final blessing of the sealing is one that we never see in this life. On a recent fast Sunday, a sister named Sharon told of her little son, Paul. Paul had drowned in an irrigation ditch near their home, and Sharon told of how she and her husband, Max, had felt a sinking hopelessness almost to the point of despair. They had been childless for years; Paul had come only after several miscarriages and much prayer. From the beginning they felt his love and intelligence and his strong obedient personality. Paul’s presence in their family had been much sought; his death brought great suffering.

Three weeks after the tragedy, Sharon stood before her ward telling how she had responded to this test. Her eyes were dry, but those close to her knew that she was crying inside.

“Brothers and sisters, I want to thank you all for the help and support you have given us in these past few weeks. It has been very difficult—” she paused and looked down at the pulpit. When she began again her voice caught and she had to struggle to speak clearly. “But I want you to know that I know more than ever before that our Father in heaven loves me. It’s very special to us to know that little Paul has already attained the goal that Max and I have been working for all our lives. I’m just comforted to know that we have been sealed as a family by the holy priesthood. If we hadn’t been, all this would have been impossible to bear. But instead I know that if we’re worthy, we’ll be together again.”

“You have to start out by just being friends with them,” says Karen Freiley, 16. Karen should know. She was instrumental in helping her good friend Krissy O’Shea join the Church. Krissy, in turn, has brought a number of her friends to church, and many of them have taken the missionary discussions.

“I’d asked Karen a few questions about her church before,” Krissy says. “But what got me really interested was going to a youth conference. Karen’s invitation was no big deal—I wasn’t getting along with my mom, and Karen knew I needed to get out of the house for a while, so she asked me if I wanted to come to this thing they were having at her church. To me it sounded like a great way to get away for the weekend.

“The thing I noticed first was the closeness I felt. You don’t really go into the doctrine the second you put a foot in the door, but you can feel the Spirit. As the classes got into the doctrine part, I began to feel that it just made so much sense.”

That’s where Krissy’s conversion began, and along the way, Karen’s testimony was strengthened. “It felt so good to share the gospel with Krissy,” she says. “Especially when the missionaries would come to our house, and we’d sit together and hear the discussions. There were things that I learned from them, even though I’d been raised in the Church.”

June 30, 1853 At the Brothers Bagnal’s they were starting out to fish. I said, “Success to you; you must catch a whale,” just in a foolish, joking way, and thought no more about it until I went down to Brother John McGilvery’s. (8) After a while one of the girls came down and said that Brother Millett had promised that Uncle Joseph’s folkswould get a whale and the Gentiles said that now you see he is a false prophet, for any fool would know that they can’t get a whale. I overheard the girls talking about the whale. It then came to my mind what I had said. I then ran to the woods and thought how foolish I was to say such a thing. I prayed the Lord to forgive, that I desired to do right. I felt the position we were in. I couldn’t keep back the tears. I called on the Lord to help me in his cause.

About one o’clock P.M. the people noticed six boats coming in the Bay towing something. Some said it was the hull of a schooner; others said no, that it was the whale that the Mormon promised about.

The brothers Bagnal’s was the first boat going out of the Bay. They heard the report of a cannon and saw the flag and topmast of the packet steamer circling around, [which] fired their third gun as soon as they saw that the fishermen were coming; the steamer went on and Brother Bagnal was the first to the prize.

And it was a lucky day for all of them that assisted in getting the prize in. The whale I believe was above 70 feet long, the biggest fish I ever saw. … I never have ceased to thank the Lord for his goodness.

One of the first commitments Elder Hurst and Elder Bekoin asked of me was to read the Book of Mormon. I replied that I couldn’t because I had been told not to read or do anything that required great concentration. The elders encouraged me to pray with sincerity and faith in Jesus Christ about their request, assuring me the Lord would give me the ability to do what was necessary.
And so I did as they counseled. I tried the experiment. I read the Book of Mormon—and did so without any difficulty. I was baptized on 18 November 1995.

Four deacons from four different wards in Salt Lake City and Orem, Utah, formed a 4 x 100-meter relay team and competed in the Hershey National Track and Field competitions in Hershey, Pennsylvania. The team members are Michael Campbell, Brian Crow, David Hooper, and Andrew Hurst.
The team set a new state record, beating the old record by nearly 2.5 seconds. As regional champions they were invited to the national championships, where they took second place.

“Let’s get more sticks!” Callie said to Marco.
Marco looked at the sky. “I have to go home. It’s almost sunset.”
“But we haven’t finished our fort yet!” said Callie.
“Sorry!” Marco called out as he hurried off. “I have to be home before the Sabbath!”
Callie sighed. There were great things about being Marco’s friend, and there were hard things. Well, mostly just one hard thing. They didn’t have very much time to play together. They were in the same grade at school but not in the same class. They didn’t have the same recess. Plus, they both spent the Sabbath with their families. In Marco’s church, the Sabbath was started at sunset on Friday night. For Callie, the Sabbath was on Sunday.
And the good things? There were lots of them. One was that Callie never had to worry that Marco would swear, try to get her to do bad things, or watch things that weren’t good. He and his family went to a different church, but they believed a lot of the same things Callie did. Like keeping the Sabbath day holy, even though they had it on a different day.
Callie set down her armful of sticks and went inside.
“Did Marco go home?” Mom asked.
“Yeah,” Callie said, slumping into a chair. “We hardly ever get to play.”
“Maybe you two can get together Friday. It’s a school holiday,” said Mom.
“OK,” Callie said, cheering up. She would get everything ready so when Marco came over, they could start working on their fort right away.
During school later that week, Callie’s teacher made an announcement. The whole third grade was going to watch a movie together.
“Yes!” Callie said. She put her lunch box into her backpack and went into the common area between the classrooms.
Everyone found a place to sit on the floor, and the teachers turned off the lights. Callie got excited as the movie began. It was about some boys building a fort together, just like she was building a fort with Marco! If we ever finish it, she thought. She shook her head and focused back on the screen.
But as the movie went on, Callie noticed that some of the words in it weren’t very good. She started to feel more and more uncomfortable. She didn’t know what to do.
Just then, she felt a tap on her shoulder. It was Marco! He had crawled all the way through the crowd of students to talk to her.
“Callie, I don’t think we should be watching this,” he whispered. “I think we should go ask our teachers if we can read instead.”
Callie breathed a sigh of relief. It felt good to know someone else felt like she did. “Yeah. I don’t like this movie either.”
She and Marco stood up and tiptoed around their classmates until they reached their teachers. Marco went to his teacher, and Callie went to hers. She asked if she could read a book instead of watching the movie, and her teacher said yes.
As Callie went into her classroom to read, she saw Marco doing the same thing. He waved and smiled. Callie smiled back. Having a true friend was even better than having a finished fort.

Elder Russell M. Nelson: “When I was working at the Walter Reed Army Medical Center, two professional colleagues, a husband and wife, asked me about the Mormons. I gave them a preliminary overview and lent them my Book of Mormon. After about a week they returned the book to me and said, ‘Thanks a lot.’

“I said, ‘What do you mean, “Thanks a lot?”’ As one who deeply loves this book, I felt that was an inadequate response. ‘Perhaps you didn’t really read the book,’ I said. ‘Please take it back and read it. When you have read it, I would very much appreciate knowing of your feelings and insight.’

“They retrieved the book, acknowledging that they had only thumbed the pages. About three weeks later they came back with tears in their eyes and said, ‘We know this book is true. How can we learn more?’

“Then I said, ‘Now I know you’ve read the book. Now we can proceed.’ In due course, they were baptized.

“The Book of Mormon has great convincing power as another witness for Jesus Christ. There is no other explanation for its existence than that which the Prophet Joseph Smith gave.”