Gospel Story Finder

I asked the Church’s records department to tell me how many college-age youth we have in the Church. They responded, “1,974,001.”
“Good,” I thought. “I will speak to the one.”
My college life began just after World War II had ended. Most of the men in our class were recently returned from military service. We were, by and large, more mature than college students of today. We had been through the war and carried with us many memories. Some of them we held on to; others we were glad to have fade away. We were more serious and did not enter into fun and games as much as students do today. We wanted to get on with our lives and knew that education was the key.
The whole focus of our lives in the military had been on destruction. That is what war is about. We were inspired by the noble virtue of patriotism. To be devoted to destruction without being destroyed yourself spiritually or morally was the test of life.
You too live in a time of war, the spiritual war that will never end. War itself now dominates the affairs of mankind. Your world at war has lost its innocence. There is nothing, however crude or unworthy, that is not deemed acceptable for movies or plays or music or conversation. The world seems to be turned upside down. (See 2 Peter 2.)
Formality, dignity, nobility, and respect for authority are mocked. Modesty and neatness yield to slouchiness and shabbiness in dress and grooming. The rules of honesty and integrity and basic morality are now ignored. Conversation is laced with profanity. You see that in art and literature, in drama and entertainment. Instead of being refined, they have become coarse. (See 1 Timothy 4:1–3; 2 Timothy 3:1–9.)
You have decisions almost every day as to whether you will follow those trends. You have many tests ahead.
In 1 Nephi 8, read about Lehi’s dream. He told his family, “Behold, I have dreamed a dream; or, in other words, I have seen a vision” (1 Nephi 8:2).
You may think that Lehi’s dream or vision has no special meaning for you, but it does. You are in it; all of us are in it.
Nephi said, “[All scripture is likened] unto us, that it might be for our profit and learning” (1 Nephi 19:23).
Lehi’s dream or vision of the iron rod has in it everything a Latter-day Saint needs to understand the test of life.
Lehi saw:
A great and spacious building (see 1 Nephi 11:35–36; 12:18).
A path following a river (see 1 Nephi 8:20–22).
A mist of darkness (see 1 Nephi 12:17).
An iron rod that led through the mist of darkness (see 1 Nephi 11:24–25).
The tree of life, “whose fruit was desirable to make one happy” (1 Nephi 8:10; see also 1 Nephi 11:8–9, 21–24).
Read the dream or vision carefully; then read it again.
If you hold to the rod, you can feel your way forward with the gift of the Holy Ghost, conferred upon you at the time you were confirmed a member of the Church. The Holy Ghost will comfort you. You will be able to feel the influence of angels, as Nephi did, and feel your way through life.
The Book of Mormon has been my iron rod.
Lehi saw great multitudes of people “pressing forward” toward the tree (1 Nephi 8:21).
The great and spacious building “was filled with people, both old and young, both male and female; and their manner of dress was exceedingly fine; and they were in the attitude of mocking and pointing their fingers towards those who had come at and were partaking of the fruit” (1 Nephi 8:27).
One word in this dream or vision should have special meaning to young Latter-day Saints. The word is after. It was after the people had found the tree that they became ashamed, and because of the mockery of the world they fell away.
“And after they had tasted of the fruit they were ashamed, because of those that were scoffing at them; and they fell away into forbidden paths and were lost. …
“And great was the multitude that did enter into that strange building. And after they did enter into that building they did point the finger of scorn at me and those that were partaking of the fruit also.” That was the test; then Lehi said, “But we heeded them not” (1 Nephi 8:28, 33; emphasis added). And that was the answer.
Lehi’s son Nephi wrote:
“I, Nephi, was desirous also that I might see, and hear, and know of these things, by the power of the Holy Ghost, which is the gift of God unto all those who diligently seek him. …
“For he that diligently seeketh shall find; and the mysteries of God shall be unfolded unto them, by the power of the Holy Ghost, as well in these times as in times of old, and as well in times of old as in times to come; wherefore, the course of the Lord is one eternal round” (1 Nephi 10:17, 19).
All of the symbolism in Lehi’s dream was explained to his son Nephi, and Nephi wrote about it.
At your baptism and confirmation, you took hold of the iron rod. But you are never safe. It is after you have partaken of that fruit that your test will come.
I think now and then of one of our classmates—very bright, good looking, faithful in the Church, and drenched with talent and ability. He married well and rose quickly to prominence. He began to compromise to please the world and those around him. They flattered him into following after their ways, which were the ways of the world.
Sometimes it is so simple a thing as how you groom yourself or what you wear, such as a young woman teasing her hair endlessly to give the impression that it has not been combed or a young man dressing in slouchy clothes, wanting to be in style.
Somewhere in little things, my classmate’s grasp on the iron rod loosened a bit. His wife held on to the rod with one hand and on to him with the other. Finally, he slipped away from her and let go of the rod. Just as Lehi’s dream or vision predicted, he fell away into forbidden paths and was lost.

One time I went on a first date with a girl in my ward. The next morning we were the only two who showed up for our ward’s temple trip. We offered to help with whatever ordinance needed the most patrons … which turned out to be sealings.
I was so nervous, but to my surprise, doing vicarious sealings with a girl less than 12 hours after our first date wasn’t nearly as awkward as I thought it would be. If anything, that experience gave me more perspective on how important each aspect of temple work is—including sealings (read more in my digital article).

Among the blessings of being a full-time missionary are the lifelong relationships you develop with missionary companions. Let me share one account with you that will help those of you who have not served missions to understand this better. This is from a letter a junior companion wrote to his senior companion who had trained him 33 years earlier. I quote in part:

I want you to know how much you have meant to me as I have often thought of you over the years since we served together 33 years ago. You have been one of the guiding influences in my life.

I appreciated you keeping all the mission rules. . . .

I remember a particularly cold and rainy day. It was about a half hour before the time to go back to the apartment. It had been raining all day, and I was wet and tired. We had stopped our bikes on the corner of an intersection. . . . We had done everything on the list we had prepared that morning; there was nothing else to be done. You looked at your watch, which showed a half hour left in our day. Then you looked over at me. I knew what you were thinking. I knew you were trying to decide whether or not to go home. After all, we were both wet, and we were far from our apartment. I tried to look as cold and as tired as I possibly could in the hopes that I could sway you in your decision.

“Let’s knock on the doors of the houses on this street,” you said. With that, we spent one more half hour in the rain and cold. And with that, you taught a new missionary what it meant to keep the mission rules. . . .

From that moment on, when I wanted to go home early I didn’t! The blessings earned in those last few minutes of every day resulted in at least two conversions that I had while laboring later in my mission. I think it might be appropriate for you to list me among your converts. I love you, Elder.

I will never forget, while engaged in a hurricane clean-up, when one person in my group was prompted to immediately go to a small town of a few hundred people. When we arrived there we saw a large group of people lined up outside the town’s only building. Inside sitting on a chair by herself, was a young woman in tears. She was the first person in this town to ever graduate from college and had returned to help others achieve GED diplomas. She said something to the effect, “I don’t have anything to give them. Everything has been wiped out and everybody is looking to me to solve it.” We explained that though our Church we could get her supplies and relief. She thanked us, and then said: “I didn’t know anybody knew I was alive.” The truth was we didn’t, but God did, and because we hearkened to the whisper of the Spirit, lives were blessed.

Because my parents were busy providing for all five of my brothers and sisters, I developed at a young age a self-motivated attitude towards Scouting.*
As I entered high school, I faced the decision of whether to complete my Eagle Scout. As I talked to my friends, they ridiculed the idea of finishing my Eagle.
One day I watched President Thomas S. Monson give a talk on TV on the importance of achieving the rank of Eagle and how much it helps young men. His words motivated me to try my hardest despite what my friends thought about getting my Eagle. So from that day on I made a goal for myself. I knew from that moment on that with the Lord’s help and my willingness to work hard, I would reach my goal.
Because my parents weren’t forcing me to get my Eagle, it was something I decided in my heart that I was going to do. Even though Scouting wasn’t popular in my particular culture, I followed the guidance of my counselor, and at the end I knew that sticking to this goal made me a better person.
If we follow what the Lord wants us to do and stick to positive goals, He will help us through any situation. This experience taught me that no matter what obstacles or challenges come my way, the Lord will help me overcome my shortcomings and weakness (see Ether 12:27). It doesn’t matter what background we come from or if we are rich or poor. We can achieve our goals because we have the Lord by our side.

I have always believed in the power of prayer. When I first moved to Asia, I had to wait for two months to start school until a new semester began. Although I enjoyed spending time with my family, I wanted a good friend with the same beliefs as I have. I eventually met all of my neighbors, and although some were the same age as me, they didn’t have the same standards.
When I was able to go to school, I met a lot of kids my age and made some friends. One time some friends and I went out for dinner. After dinner some of my friends left, but the rest still wanted to do something and decided they wanted to go and drink. They invited me, but I told them no. I felt even more lonesome. I went home that night and prayed to find a good friend.
A few weeks later I went out to dinner with some friends again, making it clear I wouldn’t drink with them. After dinner all but one other person left to go drinking. We started to talk and found that we had the same standards—standards we kept by personal choice.
I know that Heavenly Father always answers prayers.
Jordan H., age 17, Texas, USA

Angie was one of my dearest high school friends. There wasn’t a person I could think of who didn’t like her. She was not only fun, outgoing, and beautiful; she was also kind and compassionate.
One afternoon on our way home from a youth ski trip in Colorado, we stopped for dinner. After ordering our burgers and fries, several of us followed Angie. We all crowded around her table, caught up in discussions about skiing, friends, and boys.
I didn’t even notice Sarah sitting alone, quietly eating her dinner. Without saying a word, Angie carefully slid out of her chair, picked up her tray, and walked over to her. The rest of us continued our conversations, but eventually, one by one, we all noticed what Angie had done. Sarah had always seemed a little odd and unapproachable, but her eyes seemed to light up as the two girls sat together eating dinner. It didn’t take long before the rest of us followed. For one short dinner, Sarah became the center of attention.
Twelve years later, I remember very little about that ski trip. However, Angie’s example of kindness and friendship to that awkward teenage girl has made a permanent impression in my heart and mind. I am grateful to a friend who taught me to be a better person by her quiet example.

In closing, there is a story told by President Kimball. I wish I had it here to quote verbatim, but I shall have to do it from memory and pray that I will not mutilate it too much. He said, in substance, “I went to visit a friend. He met me at the airport. ‘How do you like my car?’ he said as he showed me his luxurious limousine. On the way from the airport to his home, he stopped the car, we got out, and he said, ‘See all this? From the mountains on the right hand over to the river on the left—it’s all mine.’” The way Brother Kimball said “mine” made you feel the covetousness that man had in his possessions. Then they proceeded to his home, which was truly a palace. President Kimball said, “I spoke at his funeral not long ago. They buried him in a piece of land the length of a tall man and the width of a heavy man, and as I returned from the cemetery I observed the cattle in the field, seemingly unaware that there had been a change of ownership.”

When I was eight, my parents divorced. My dad and I had always been close. At the time, I didn’t realize how hard it would be to not have my father involved in my everyday life. And it was difficult to come to terms with the fact that my dad would not be there to baptize me or participate in many other important events.
Seven years later, there were still times when I would sit to write something about him in my journal, but the feelings of love and sorrow were so strong I couldn’t. It was awful being that completely miserable.
During the 1999 April general conference, Elder Jeffrey Holland’s talk about the importance of a father really struck me. As I listened intently to Elder Holland, my eyes filled with tears. I felt the Spirit surround and comfort me. I realized I did have a father who is always here for me, my Heavenly Father. I was embarrassed that my stubborn thoughts about living a fatherless life were blinding me to the fact that Heavenly Father was waiting to be my support and friend.
Often when we are faced with one of life’s many trials, we focus on the negative effects it has on our life, I was using my parents’ divorce as a reason to be unhappy.
I realized I was drowning in a sea of self-pity, hoping for some miraculous change to come. But I eventually realized that the only way things would change was if I changed. Hardships are what you make them become: a never-ending problem or a chance to learn and grow. As I prayed and grew closer to my Father in Heaven, I realized that I was learning and growing. What a comforting feeling it is to know that when I kneel down to say my prayers, there is always someone who is willing to listen to me and help me. Both my mortal father and my Heavenly Father live far away, but One can hear my silent pleas for guidance.

The challenges that face us and our families as disciples of Christ are somewhat different than those of Joshua’s Israelites. Let me illustrate with an experience. Our family lived for many years in the state of Florida. Because Florida has a high concentration of sand, lawns there are planted with a large broadleaf grass we call Saint Augustine. A formidable enemy of a Florida lawn is a small, brown insect called a mole cricket.

One evening as my neighbor and I stood on the front steps, he noticed a little bug crossing my sidewalk. “You better spray your lawn,” he warned. “There goes a mole cricket.” I had sprayed the lawn with insecticide not too many weeks previously, and I hardly felt that I had the time or money to do it again so soon.

In the light of the next morning, I examined my lawn closely. It was lush and beautifully green. I looked down into the grass to see if I could see any of the little bugs. I could see none. I remember thinking, “Well, maybe that little mole cricket was just passing through my yard on the way to my neighbor’s yard.”

I watched my lawn for more than a week, looking for signs of invaders, but none was evident. I congratulated myself that I had not overreacted to my neighbor’s warning.

The story, however, has a sad ending. I came out the front door one morning, about 10 days after the conversation with my neighbor. Shockingly, as if it had happened overnight, brown spots covered my lawn. I ran to the garden store, bought the insecticide, and sprayed immediately, but it was too late. The lawn was ruined, and to return it to its former state required a new crop of sod, long hours of work, and large expense.

My neighbor’s warning was central to my lawn’s welfare. He saw things I could not see. He knew something I did not know. He knew that mole crickets live underground and are active only at night, making my daytime examinations ineffective. He knew that mole crickets did not eat the leaves of the grass but rather found nourishment in the roots. He knew that these little inch-long creatures could eat a lot of roots before I would ever see the effect above the ground. I paid a dear price for my smug independence.

Along with home teaching, members of a teachers quorum also have the opportunity to serve by preparing the sacrament each Sunday. In the Iowa City Second Ward, the teachers are given rotating assignments of either preparing the sacrament before the meeting or putting the trays away after the meeting.
Before Nate Rideout was a teacher, he admits he wasn’t too concerned about getting to church on time. But now things are different. When it is his month to help prepare the sacrament, Nate makes sure he gets to church 30 minutes before sacrament meeting begins. “The sacrament is the most important part of the meeting,” explains Nate. “I know I can’t be sloppy when I prepare the sacrament, because it is a sacred ordinance.” Nate is grateful for the opportunity he has to reflect upon the importance of the sacrament as he carefully sets out the trays and fills the cups with water.

“Margaret and Neil, take this wheat to the gristmill on City Creek, please,” Mother said.
Neil smiled happily. He was only four years old, but he liked to help Mother as much as he could. He proudly took the small bag of wheat kernels in his arms.
“I’ll carry it,” Margaret announced, snatching the bag from Neil’s arms. “You’re too little. You might drop it, and you know we can’t afford to lose any of it!”
That was certainly true! When the Gardner family had arrived in the Salt Lake Valley on October 3, 1847, they had rejoiced that they had reached this sanctuary for the Saints. But that didn’t mean that everything was perfect. Now it was winter, and Neil was often hungry. Each family received a little wheat given out by weight. They ate sego and thistle roots. Once in a while hunters brought meat to the settlers.
When they got to the gristmill, Neil watched carefully as the wheat was ground. When a handful of kernels spilled on the floor while it was being ground, he and Margaret sprang to gather it up. Margaret wrapped it in her handkerchief. That evening they would parch it on the top of the stove at home. No food could be wasted.
After that cold, hungry winter, spring finally came, and Neil’s family moved to Mill Creek, a few miles from Salt Lake City. They planted a small crop of wheat. When the grain came up, it looked so strong and good. How wonderful it would be to have plenty of flour next winter! But then the crickets came.
Crickets were everywhere. There seemed to be no end to them. They were big and black and ate everything in their paths. Everyone worked in the fields, trying to kill the insects. But it seemed useless. There were just so many crickets.
Finally a day of fasting and prayer was planned. Father and the other men went to Salt Lake to pray for help from Heavenly Father.
While Father was gone, Neil, Mother, and Margaret went into the fields again to fight the crickets. Neil was tired, and the thought of another hungry winter made him want to cry. As they worked, it suddenly became darker. Neil looked up and saw thousands of gulls in the sky. Mother threw up her hands in despair. “What the crickets won’t take, those birds will!” she exclaimed.
Mother sat down and cried. Neil cried too. He didn’t know what would become of his family.
Too tired to fight the bird invaders, Neil and his mother and sister watched the seagulls.
“Mother, look!” Neil shouted. “The gulls aren’t eating our wheat. They are eating the crickets!”
“I believe you are right!” Mother said.
Mother, Margaret, and Neil held hands and danced in a circle. They hugged and laughed. The gulls were saving their wheat!
Suddenly, Mother stopped dancing and dropped to her knees. “Come, children,” she said. “These gulls were sent by Heavenly Father to save His children. Let us give thanks to Him.”
The three of them prayed right there in the wheat field. Neil never forgot the miracle of the gulls.

“I remember a special boyhood experience when my father once took my brother and me to an athletics competition, and I saw a man throwing the javelin for the first time. It made a great impression on me as a ten-year-old boy. Several years later when I was in school, after a lot of practice, I won the javelin event and became Victor Ludorum (Latin for: Winner of the Games) with successes not only in the javelin and discus, but also in the high jump, long jump, and middle-distance running events. Later still I represented the University of Nottingham and became a qualified javelin and discus coach.”

One Sunday in October, I was assigned to give an important part in a program at church. But in October everyone in my family had to work hard to harvest the rice in my father’s rice fields. That included working on the Sabbath day.
I prayed to Heavenly Father, and the Spirit planted a thought in my mind. I could try to finish the harvest before Sunday. I would get up early and work every morning before school. Then every afternoon I would work after school until dark.
But by Saturday night only half of the harvest was done. I went to bed discouraged that I had not accomplished my goal. Sunday morning I awoke early to go to the fields. My father came to my room and, with a gentle smile, asked why I wasn’t going to church. My heart was full of joy. I could go to church and keep the Sabbath day holy!

Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf said the following: “In family relationships love is really spelled t-i-m-e, time.”10
I tried to teach that principle in the talk I gave at the last October conference. Recently I received an email from Hailey, a member of the Church in Salem, Oregon, and mother of six, who learned this lesson on her own. Here is what she said:

After coming home last night from a couple of long days of helping at our elementary school, a flat tire, doctor’s visit, radiology appointment, and emergency room visit for one of my sick children, I was greeted with a kitchen full of dishes and life mess all over my house. I was exhausted, . . . and honestly, I just wanted to shower and climb into bed. . . .

While I was trying to tidy the kitchen, my seven-year-old approached me and asked if I would walk down to our basement to help him find a particular toy. My first thought . . . was, “I just want to get the kitchen cleaned and kids to bed without interruption.” He again asked if I would help him. . . .

I then remembered the following from your talk in conference: “When prompted, we can leave dishes in the sink or an in-box full of challenges demanding attention in order to read to a child, visit with a friend, babysit a neighbor’s children, or serve in the temple [my insert: or help your child find a toy]. . . . [We can] see people not as interruptions but as the purpose of [our] life.”

I looked at my son, who was looking up at me, and I looked at my sink full of dishes and countertops littered with clutter, and I said out loud, “Dishes, you have to wait.”
As he and I proceeded to walk down our stairs to the basement, my son, Andrew, said, “Mom, you love me more than dishes, huh?”
To which I responded an unequivocal “Yes!” . . .

Then, this morning, while helping him finish his homework for school, I said, “Andrew, I love you.”
He responded with, “Yup, you love me more than dishes.”

That became our new parenting mantra: “I love you more than dishes” (or insert any of the other thousand to-dos on our list).11

Hailey is my example in this. She knows that each day is a gift from a loving Father in Heaven.

How about our general health? Health is one of the criteria the bishop will look at, but most missionaries find themselves capable of doing the task. Sister Winona L. Armstrong of Arimo, Idaho woke up one morning with a terrible migraine headache. But she didn’t want to cancel the five discussions she and her husband, Ezra, had scheduled, so she prayed, knowing that the Lord had the power to remove it. “Before I got up from my knees, the headache had gone.”

Still another example, closer to home, is that of Elder Richard L. Evans, deceased, formerly of the Twelve, who for many years was the voice of the Spoken Word on Temple Square. Several years ago, in attending a conference in the Salt Lake Bonneville Stake, he brought with him detailed instructions about a new program. Realizing his words on administrative matters would carry little weight because of his sketchy experience in that field, he reviewed the material in the most brief way and explained that the handout he intended to leave behind would provide the details. He then made this comment, which I have never forgotten: “I know what I am. I am a microphonist and a pulpiteer.”

“Let me tell you about two of your fellow elders I was with last week who walked together up by Lukachukai.
“I learned about them when I attended a stake conference. Among the speakers that morning was a handsome Navajo boy. He was frightened by this first experience at public speaking, but he was sustained by faith and by a deep, sincere testimony.
Only a few short months before, the Church was unknown to him.
“Two of our young elders drove their truck as far up a muddy, rutted road as they could go and then ‘two walked together’ the remaining eight miles through mud and snow to teach a man and his grandson. Because of their dedication and determination, this young man, now a baptized member filled with the spirit of love and testimony, was speaking to the congregation. He, too, will soon be on a mission, walking with a companion down some distant country road or city street. He will walk his way into the homes and hearts of those who are seeking the Lord. Oh, the high adventure of missionary work!”

Have you ever had a completely life-changing moment—the kind that seems to ruin everything? I have, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
One minute, my siblings and I were sitting on the living room couch, quietly waiting. The next, it felt like my whole world was crashing down.
My dad’s casual explanation of his decision to file for divorce contradicted everything I thought I knew. I thought we were a happy family. I thought daily scripture study and family prayer were supposed to keep us together.
From that point on, a lot changed. My happy childhood memories began to sour. My parents both got remarried. My siblings started choosing sides.
I wondered what had happened to my life.
It felt so unfair—why did someone else’s decision get to ruin my life?
Or did it? For a while, my parents’ divorce felt like the most important day of my life. But a talk by Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles made me rethink this.
He taught, “The most important day in the history of mankind was the day when Jesus Christ, the living Son of God, won the victory over death and sin for all of God’s children.”
Then he added that the most important day in our lives is the day when we commit to follow Jesus Christ—a day he hoped would recur “over and over again throughout our lives.”
So, yes, while my parents’ divorce did change my life, the Atonement of Jesus Christ changed the trajectory of human history. And that’s not all; I’ve learned that because of the events of Easter, Christ can change the trajectory of my life—every day.

My mother and I were baptized on 5 October 1997. It was such a great blessing for me. I had always felt something important was missing in my life, and I could not understand what it was. But while studying the Book of Mormon I felt that this book was true and that the Church was true. This feeling grew stronger and stronger. My faith grew too. I read the Book of Mormon every day. When the missionaries came to visit us, they asked my mother and me if we had asked the Lord if the Book of Mormon was true. I told them I did not have any doubts about the Book of Mormon. My feelings about the book were strong from the minute I started to read.
Julia Martynova,Obukhovsky Branch, St. Petersburg Russia South District