Gospel Story Finder

When my wife and I were a young married couple, we tried repeatedly to establish a firm habit of reading the scriptures together every day as a family. When our oldest child was about seven years old, we finally made it a daily habit. Reading first thing in the morning, we continued faithfully from that time forward. Once the habit was established with the other children, the younger children were eager to participate as they became old enough. Often we had to read before 6:00 a.m. because of early-morning seminary.

Young married couples are in a position to start their own righteous family traditions—holding daily family scripture study, having family prayer, and preparing their children for missions and temple marriage.

—Tracey was born in Colorado, but spent most of her junior high and high school years in Oregon. “Then I came to BYU, then went on a mission to San Diego, California.” Back in school after her mission, “I needed an internship or I wouldn’t be able to graduate in time to teach seminary.” After praying about it, she noticed a poster announcing auditions for Center Street. She tried out, got the job, and she was able to use her work to qualify for graduation.
“It’s been great to do Center Street and teach seminary (at Mountain View High in Orem, Utah) at the same time, because I have so many experiences I can bring back to the classroom. Also, I’m surrounded by teenagers, so I feel like I am one. It helps me have a good perspective on the show,” Tracey says.

Gene has learned a lot about aiming high by following the example of his mother.
“When she was 16 she contracted polio. Doctors said she’d never walk again, or that if she did walk, she’d never have children. But she worked her way from braces to crutches to a cane. And she went ahead and had four sons. I’m the youngest.”
Even though his mom is currently confined to a wheelchair, the doctors are now saying she should be able to walk again.

One day, I was playing at a friend’s house. He took me to the next-door neighbor’s, and we destroyed some of his flowers.
The next day, my mom found out from the neighbor, an elderly man who lives alone after his wife died, what we had done. She told us that it was very wrong to do that. She told me that I had to make things better. She called it repentance.
She helped me write a letter to the man, apologizing for destroying his flowers. We also made him some banana bread. Then she told me that I had to take it to him. I was very scared, so my mom came with me.
When the man answered the door, I said that I was sorry and gave him the letter and banana bread. He was very surprised and happy that I had come. I felt very good after that.
My mom taught me a good lesson about how I must repent, no matter how hard it is, when I do something wrong.
Kye Heimonen, age 5Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario, Canada

Roberto Vargas was not active in the Church when he moved his family to the northern port city of Antofagasta in 1989. But the warmth of the welcome Roberto, his wife, Erica, and their three sons received from Latter-day Saints was exceeded only by the heat of Chile’s Atacama Desert, the world’s most arid desert.
In Antofagasta, which is sandwiched between the desert sand and the sea, precipitation is little more than a rumor. For the Vargas family, however, the area is beautiful. “Here is where we have progressed most as a family,” says Sister Vargas.
The friendly reception and ward efforts to activate Brother Vargas, a civil engineer for a nearby copper mine, prompted him to have “a long-overdue interview” with his bishop. A calling to the elders quorum presidency soon followed. Today, three years after being called as bishop of the Gran Vía Ward, Bishop Vargas welcomes the opportunity to help others progress spiritually.
“If we have an earthquake, the chapel fills up. If a tsunami warning is issued, everyone returns,” he says. “But I tell people not to wait for a disaster before they straighten out their lives. My family has been blessed here, and I know it is because we are keeping the commandments.”

Where I live, we have no cinemas, no bowling alleys. The only thing a lot of teenagers think there is to do around here, it seems, is party and drink alcohol. Peer pressure can also be overwhelming. What makes it worse is that there are only a few active members of the Church at my school.
One afternoon at work I talked with a male friend of mine. The conversation eventually turned to drinking. “I don’t drink, ever. Not a drop,” I said. He gave me a strange look, and then, in a low voice, said, “I wish I could do that. I could never stick with decisions like that.” He started picking on me for my standards, but I knew that deep down he fully respected me.
A few months later, the same friend had a birthday party, and I went, not knowing what would be going on there. My friend walked around with a $50 note in his hands, which I jokingly snatched from his hand, thanking him. He sat down next to me. “Okay,” he said. “You can keep the money, but only if you sip some alcohol.” I politely refused and gave him the money. He was shocked that somebody would pass up a $50 note. Then, he told me how strong and brave I was. The person sitting on the other side of him said good things about me. It was cool—one of the best feelings I have ever had.
I learned that people respect our standards and expect us to stay true to them. If we’re not true to our standards, we don’t earn respect from them or ourselves. People notice everything we do.

My wife, Nancy, is also a convert to the Church. She has mentioned to me many times over the years the joy she has felt in her life since finding, accepting, and living the gospel of Jesus Christ. What follows is a reflection from Sister Maynes on her experience:

“As a young adult in my early 20s, I was at a point in my life when I knew I needed to change something in order to be a happier person. I felt like I was adrift with no real purpose and direction, and I didn’t know where to go to find it. I had always known that Heavenly Father existed and occasionally throughout my life had said prayers, feeling that He listened.

“As I began my search, I attended several different churches but would always fall back into the same feelings and discouragement. I feel very blessed because my prayer for direction and purpose in life was ultimately answered, and the fulness of the gospel of Jesus Christ was brought into my life. For the first time I felt like I had a purpose, and the plan of happiness brought real joy into my life.”

In February, three stakes in the Suva, Fiji, area held a drive to collect food, household items, and school supplies for flood victims in northern and western Fiji.
Fiji was hit by continuous heavy rainfall earlier in the year, causing widespread flooding and localized landslides in the western and northern areas. Flooding led to several deaths and forced thousands to evacuate their homes.
As the floods raged through the western and northern regions of Fiji, local Church leaders immediately opened up meetinghouses as evacuation centers for people whose homes were in the path of the flood.
Elder Taniela Wakolo, Area Seventy and the Church’s Fiji Service Center manager, initiated the drive on February 6, shortly after local Church leaders were alerted about the flood. Members collected and sorted food, clothing, bedding, kitchenware, and school supplies; the items were then allocated to people in need.

I fared much better at fast-pitch softball. My most memorable experience in softball was a thirteen-inning game I pitched in Salt Lake City on a hot Memorial Day. The game was scheduled for just seven innings, but the tied score could not be broken. In the last of the thirteenth, with two men out and a runner on third, the batter hit a high pop fly to left field. The catch was certain, I thought. And yet the ball fell through the hands of the left fielder. For thirty-eight years I have teased my friend who dropped the ball. I have promised myself I will never do so again. I’m not even going to mention his name. After all, he, too, remembers. It was only a game.

While traveling to a youth conference in Stuttgart, Germany, I had the opportunity to speak with an elderly woman about the temple and about my faith in the restored gospel. She was acquainted with the Church and had a fairly good idea of some gospel doctrines.
During our conversation, however, the woman said something that made me sad. When she was introduced to the Church approximately 40 years before by a Latter-day Saint friend, something her friend had said still stood out to her. “I’m not allowed to drink,” her friend had said. The woman then added that she knew of a few Latter-day Saints who did drink “now and then.”
From this simple encounter, I was reminded that as members of the Lord’s Church, we are always examples to others. We choose, however, what that example will be.

It was turning out to be the worst Christmas Eve a missionary could have. All three of our baptisms scheduled for Christmas day had just fallen through. Instead of the “white” Christmas my companion and I were hoping for, it was going to be just another hot day in Chile.
To top it off, our Christmas Eve dinner invitation was cancelled. Chileans hold their big celebration on Christmas Eve, so it was like missing out on Christmas dinner.
As my companion and I walked dejectedly past the small, fenced-in chapel, the branch president stopped us and asked where we were spending Christmas Eve. We told him we had no plans. He then invited us to his home that evening for dinner.
That night we went to the branch president’s house, a small structure covered with a tin roof. At the table, my companion and I were invited to sit in the chairs usually reserved for the branch president and his wife. They graciously shared their meal with us. It must have been a sacrifice for them to feed two hungry missionaries, especially with only a few hours’ notice. Then this kind family gave my companion and me each a wonderful gift of a white handkerchief.
We didn’t get our “white” Christmas with lots of baptisms. Instead, we learned from a young, humble branch president that it is, indeed, “more blessed to give than to receive” (Acts 20:35).
Lester Dimit served in the Chile Santiago South Mission; he is a member of the Reedville Ward, Cedar Mill Oregon Stake.

At Christmastime several years ago, I had an experience where this parable was put into action. It was nighttime, and I was driving on the interstate. Snow had started to fall, and the road was getting slick. Suddenly, my tire exploded. I pulled over and prayed that somehow, Heavenly Father would rescue me from this dangerous situation. Shortly after, a kind man stopped to help me change my tire. With no hesitation and very few words, he got my spare tire on the car, wished me a merry Christmas, and drove away.
Like the good Samaritan, this man recognized a person in need, and he acted. He didn’t wait for an invitation, and he expected nothing in return for his selfless service. He truly understood that the greatest way we can honor the Savior is by serving others. As the Savior taught, “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me” (Matthew 25:40).

Mom left the decision up to us. How could she! Oh, I knew which choice was right. It’s just that the wrong choice was so appealing. And really, it didn’t seem as bad as all that.
I lay sprawled across my bed with my chin in my hands. I looked at my sister. Yes, she was thinking about it too. She had a peaceful, determined look on her face. Traitor! I knew what she had decided.
Maybe I’d better start at the beginning. My name is Susie, and my sister’s name is Karen. We were born eleven months apart, and we are the best of friends.
Yesterday, Stephanie, one of our non-LDS friends, brought over a birthday invitation. It sounded like so much fun! It was a swimming party and barbecue.
Stephanie’s pool is gorgeous. It’s made of colorful ceramic tiles. And there’s a beautiful waterfall that cascades down a miniature rock mountain into the pool, a diving board, and a spiral slide. Karen and I were really excited about going—until we checked the calendar.
“Oh no!” I groaned. “July 10th is on a Sunday!”
“Mom and Dad are never going to let us go,” Karen said. “We might as well call Stephanie right now.”
“Wait a minute,” I said. “Maybe if we tell Mom and Dad how much we want to go—and that we won’t be rowdy—they’ll let us go.”
Karen looked doubtful but agreed to wait.
We decided to clean up the house to surprise Mom when she got home from visiting teaching. Karen did the dishes and cleaned the bathroom. I dusted, straightened, and vacuumed. The house looked great!
“Wow! Somebody’s been busy!” Mom exclaimed as she walked in the door. Her eyes twinkled, and she smiled.
“Surprise!” we yelled. “You’ve been working so hard, we thought you could use some extra help today,” I added, winking at Karen.
Mom smiled again and went upstairs, humming to herself. Our idea certainly seemed to be working!
Mom came downstairs a few minutes later. It was her turn to cook dinner. “Well, it looks like we have a choice of spaghetti or french dip sandwiches. What do you think, girls?”
“French dip,” I said.
“Spaghetti,” said Karen.
“Spaghet—” I started to say.
“French—” said Karen at the same time. All three of us laughed.
“Oh—I just realized that I forgot to pick up mix for the dip at the store,” Mom said. “Looks like it’s spaghetti for dinner.”
The kitchen came to life with the clatter of pans and singing. In a few minutes the heavenly aroma of Italian spices and garlic filled the air. The timing seemed perfect.
“Mom, guess what?” I said.
“We got an invitation to Stephanie’s birthday party this weekend,” Karen said, handing Mom the invitation.
“Isn’t that nice! This sounds like fun—swimming and a barbecue and—oh-oh! It’s on Sunday!”
Mom looked sympathetically from my disappointed face to Karen’s. “You girls know what Dad and I have always taught you, and what you’ve learned in Primary. I trust you girls to make this decision. You have been baptized and received the gift of the Holy Ghost. I want you to think seriously about this. When you have made a decision, ask Heavenly Father if the choice is right. If it is, the Holy Ghost will let you know by helping you feel peaceful and good inside. Dad and I will support whatever choice you make.”
Karen and I walked slowly back to the bedroom we shared to think it over.
I flopped down on my bed. I had to admit that Mom was smart. We would make the right choice because we’d feel too guilty if we didn’t.
I decided right then that I was going to outsmart Mom. It was just a little party, after all. It wasn’t so bad, was it? As I tried to convince myself, I began feeling uncomfortable. A small, hard lump formed in my throat. I swallowed it and decided I was going to the party, anyway.
That was when I looked over at Karen. She had just finished praying and was sitting quietly on her bed. She had a sweet, peaceful look on her face. I could tell she would need to be convinced.
My sister and I talked a long time. She was calm and self-assured. I was defiant and stubborn. Karen finally convinced me that we should pray together. As we got up from our prayer, we hugged and smiled at each other, then went to the phone.
After dinner, while Dad was loading the dishwasher and Mom was dipping up pistachio ice cream for dessert, Dad asked, “Have you girls decided what to do?”
“Yes,” Karen and I answered together.
The day of the party was the kind of hot day that made you want to sit in the shade of a huge tree with a tall, cool glass of soda pop. It was the perfect day for a swimming party. Karen and I grabbed suits, towels, and a shimmering pink package and walked excitedly to Stephanie’s house.
We rang the doorbell. There stood Stephanie with a big grin on her face.
“Thanks for changing the party to Saturday!” I said.
“Yeah. It must have been a lot of extra work having to call everyone,” Karen added.
“It wouldn’t have been any fun without my best friends. Besides I think it’s neat that you stand up for what you believe.”
The three of us walked back to the pool, arm in arm. The party was even more fun than I had imagined.

Sometimes overcoming fear is a journey, like traveling through a dark valley, as Psalm 23 mentions. Nicolas F., from Brazil, can testify that if you keep moving forward, healing will come. He struggled with feelings of failure and fear for a long time.
“I prayed a lot, asking God to take the bad thoughts out of my mind, asking Him to take away the bad feelings,” he says. He went through times of confusion and dwelt on the mistakes he’d made.
“I tried to find the power of God, but I didn’t yet feel His healing,” says Nicolas. He searched the scriptures for verses about overcoming fear and found strength in those words. He got support from his mother and others.
Eventually, one afternoon, he felt particularly whole and grateful. He realized how far he had come.
“Before I felt like I was in prison,” he says. “But now I feel like I can win the battles. As I seek the Lord’s help, I feel hope.”

I remember, when very young, helping my mother and dad in our movie theater in Raymond, Alberta, Canada. I enjoyed it because we were together—selling popcorn or tickets. When it came time to clean the big theater, I had the privilege of doing it with my dad. We each had our own jobs to do and yet we did them together. I noted later in life that I had retained the desire to keep things neat and orderly.

I remember attending a meeting near Bancroft, Idaho, years ago. It was sponsored in part by the extension service of the University. We’d had a wonderful meeting, and after it was over, I was greeting some of the wonderful farmers who were there, and among them was a man by the name of Brother Yost, and I said, “Brother Yost, how are things out on the farm?” Brother Yost said, “Oh, things are fine, Brother Benson, but I’m about 20 thousand dollars worse off than I was three days ago.” I said, “What’s the matter—another frost?” He said, “Yes, it hit the wheat just in the dough stage, and you know what that means.” He said, “We’re starting the mowing machines in the morning, but everything’s all right. We’ve still got a little wheat in the bin, and we’ve got at least part of our year’s supply laid away. We’re not going to starve, and there’ll be another crop.” As we left him, I said to my wife, “What a wonderful spirit.”

We drove on down to Logan. We had our children with us, and we stopped on Main Street to go into a grocery store to pick up a few cookies for the kiddies. And who should I meet on the sidewalk but Brother Yost. I said, “Well, what are you doing way down here?” He said, “Brother Benson, it’s our day to go to the temple.” And I said, “Well, reverses don’t dampen your spirits any, do they?” Then he taught me a lesson. He said, “Brother Benson, when reverses come we need the temple all the more.”

The first is to stand in holy places. I recently participated in the Tokyo Japan Temple open house. The response to formal invitations sent to both media and VIP guests far exceeded expectations. Hundreds joined in these guided temple tours. Guests were deeply touched by the beauty of the temple, including patterns and motifs with deep, traditional Japanese connections. More poignant yet was the reverent and respectful reaction elicited from guests as ancestral ordinances were described in rooms where they would occur. But most heartwarming were stirrings of the Spirit.

One such moment with a prominent government official remains etched in my mind. Following a moment of meditative silence in the celestial room, emotional and deeply touched he whispered in my ear, “Even the air that I breathe in this room feels different.” I recognized he was trying to describe the presence of the Holy Spirit, which, indeed, dwells in sacred spaces. If you hope to feel the Spirit, be in a place where the Spirit can easily dwell.

Not long after Nelson was born in Asunción, Paraguay, his parents met the missionaries. “One day my dad was on the porch at home and saw Elder Higbee and Elder Johnson but did not know they were missionaries,” Brother Mousqués recalls. “He told my sister to bring out two chairs because, he said, ‘Those young men will change our lives.’ When the elders clapped at the door, he opened it and said, ‘Come in. We have been waiting for you.’ My father and the entire family joined the Church.”

Elder Joseph Cottam, of the Spain Madrid Mission, commented, “I’ve always been fully into music, ever since listening to my iPod Touch and my headphones when I was seven years old. At that age, I started playing the piano a little bit and the guitar, but I started playing the drums when I was 11 years old and that’s when I started rocking. My brother, Dan, and I started to rock the roof off our living room when we started playing the drums and guitar together. We then gathered the band together and played through all our teenage years pretty much every week until we were headlining shows, playing at festivals, winning competitions, and recording music videos. Then the time came when I had to start considering a mission; it was honestly something I had tried to avoid thinking about up to that point. I had a mindset that if we made the band big and rocked the world, we would be the best missionaries in the world. Obviously, God has different ideas to us. After a lot of prayer and thought, I and my brother decided to start with our mission papers. The reason being that I figured out that God knows what is best for us. He has shown us the path to follow, and we just must follow it without trying to compromise or trying to make our own paths. I also had a trust that God would make sure that everything went okay. He knows what means a lot to us in this life and he will cater for our desires if we always put him first. So that’s what I decided to do. Leaving everything behind we worked for was a blow for a while; it was our dream; it was everything we wanted to do but then the quarantine came, and everything stopped. The world was on pause and then I said to myself, “Wow. God does know best; He knew that if we accepted that record deal and continued, we would have been in a massive pickle.” That was the time when I knew for a fact God was guiding us in this.”

In the weeks leading up to my marriage and temple sealing, I started getting a little nervous about all the things I needed to do before I started my new family. Despite all the joy of that moment, I felt stressed about organizing our new routine, getting our finances in order, finding storage for our belongings, and all my new responsibilities as a wife. I wanted to make sure we started off our marriage the right way by making room in our activities for important things like keeping the commandments and spending time together as husband and wife in spite of our busy lives.
As the wedding day came closer, I was surprised by a series of nightmares involving all sorts of troubles that could affect a family. Because I come from a loving but afflicted family, threatened by constant and intense arguments and broken hearts, the bad dreams affected me more than they should have. So one night, after several others like it, I woke up sweating and decided to follow the advice that Sister Neill F. Marriott, Second Counselor in the Young Women General Presidency, gave in her talk “Yielding Our Hearts to God” (Liahona, Nov. 2015, 30–32). I closed my eyes and prayed, “Dear Heavenly Father, what can I do to keep these bad things away from my family?”
The answer hit me as fast and as strongly as if someone had opened a door into my head and put the thought there. The still, small voice prompted me, “Just do what you are supposed to do. Be faithful in each step.” The Spirit whispered some specific counsel, and I felt that if I did those things, everything would be fine.
I smiled and felt my chest filled with warmth. All the worries were suddenly forgotten, because I knew it was true. I had felt the Holy Ghost before, but never as strong as I did that night. I felt the love of our Heavenly Father and our Savior surround me, and I knew that the comfort and salvation of my family was as important for Them as it was for me.