Gospel Story Finder

Accepting a rebellious child does not mean that we allow him to use us or to continue in a path that would hurt others. A widowed sister whose teenage son wanted to smoke in her home told him the rule governing their home: “I love you, but in this house gospel standards are upheld.” When her son threatened to leave home, she replied: “You are always welcome here, and you will be loved no matter where you live. But when you are here, the rule of this house remains the same.”

During the 16 years Elder Neil Linden Andersen has served as a General Authority, he has often heard President Monson teach that “whom the Lord calls, the Lord qualifies” (Thomas S. Monson quoting Harold B. Lee, “Who Honors God, God Honors,” Ensign, Nov. 1995, 50). Now more than ever, Elder Andersen is holding on to those words.
Elder Andersen, who has been serving as the Senior President of the Seventy, explains: “No one is prepared for a call such as this. It is overwhelming, and I feel very inadequate. I pray that the Lord will find me sufficiently humble and moldable, that He can shape me into what I must become.”
While very humbled by the call to the holy apostleship, Elder Andersen expressed in general conference his firm testimony of the Savior. “I take solace,” he said, “that in one qualification for the holy apostleship where there can be no latitude extended, the Lord has deeply blessed me. I do know with perfect and certain clarity through the power of the Holy Ghost that Jesus is the Christ, the Beloved Son of God” (“Come unto Him,” Liahona and Ensign, May 2009, 78).

I love the story of Captain Moroni in the Book of Mormon. My dad read it in family home evening, and it inspired me to make my own flag. My flag reminds me of who I am and that Heavenly Father is always with me.

When the trans-Canada pipeline was being planned, President Tanner received constant appeals from the national minister of trade and from the premier of Alberta to become head of the project. He accepted the challenge.

The 2,000-mile pipeline, largest in the world at that time, was completed in four years, even though one project authority compared it with the building of the U.S. transcontinental railroad.

Another good example was shown by President Ronald Reagan when he was shot several years ago. The President, a Republican, showed his ability to laugh even in the most difficult of situations when, as he was wheeled into emergency surgery, he said to the surgeons about to operate on him, “Gee, I hope you guys are Republicans.” A good sense of humor helps to ease painful or difficult situations, puts others at ease, and is usually welcome anytime.

In 1938 Hitler had his armies invade western Czechoslovakia, and he soon ruled it. All Americans were warned to leave the country. Before the mission president, Wallace Toronto, left, he set apart Josef Roubícek, a Czech and a priest in the Aaronic Priesthood, as the acting mission president. For the next five and a half years, Church headquarters received no word from the Saints in Czechoslovakia.

During that time President Roubícek held regular meetings. For a few months the government outlawed public meetings. When that happened, President Roubícek kept in touch with members by mail. In his letters, he encouraged them to study the Book of Mormon with their families.

When the war ended in 1945, an American soldier took a letter from President Roubícek and mailed it to President Toronto. “I wish to inform you,” President Roubícek wrote in the letter, “that after six years of war all members of the Church have remained well and alive. It has been a terrible time. … The [Saints’] … testimonies of the truthfulness of the gospel have not wavered even in the worst moments of this great conflict.”*

David O. McKay loved baseball. Once, a player wrongly accused him of being unfair and threatened him. David spoke calmly. Then he hit the ball and scored the winning run! Everyone was glad he stood up to the bully when he knew he was in the right.

You can’t be timid for long as a missionary. Street meetings were a very popular form of our missionary work. We’d set up a stand in the marketplace or town square, sing a few hymns, then bear our testimonies and answer questions.
The second day I was in England, I attended my first street meeting at Hyde Park in London. Six missionaries and our mission president, Selvoy J. Boyer, were there. President Boyer called on two missionaries to speak, and I was one of them.
On my way up to the stand, he said to me, “Elder Ballard, you preach the gospel.” I quickly picked the principle of baptism and said everything I knew about it in about thirty seconds. That was a good experience because it made me realize very quickly how much I did not know. I realized that I had a lot of studying to do.

In Lewis Carroll’s classic Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Alice finds herself coming to a crossroads with two paths before her, each stretching onward but in opposite directions. She is confronted by the Cheshire Cat, of whom Alice asks, “Which path shall I take?”

The cat answers, “That depends where you want to go. If you do not know where you want to go, it doesn’t really matter which path you take.”3

Elder Donald L. Hallstrom (USA): On Christmas Eve in years past we would gather to have a sweet and memorable period of testimony bearing. Each family member was given opportunity to express his or her feelings about the Savior and about our Father in Heaven. Those deep feelings of love would then turn us to one another, and expressions of love for family members would be most heartfelt. My father would then express his vision for the family and give powerful encouragement to each family member to remain true to the faith. Then in unity we would kneel together in a closing family prayer.

You could say 17-year-old Chris S. of Florida danced his way into the Church, but that’s not totally correct. Actually, it was the people he danced with who introduced him to the gospel. Chris is part of a troupe that performs Panamanian folk dances, and two of his best friends, Rebecca and Joshua R., who are also in the group, invited him to come to church.
“One time we started talking about the Church, and I just told him more about it, and he seemed really interested,” Rebecca says. “I told my parents about it, and they said we should invite him to church.” So one day they invited Chris to come, and he accepted.
“I asked my parents, and they said I could go,” Chris remembers. He also remembers how well received he was. “I was kind of nervous. But once I came, everyone was so warm and welcoming. It was nice to be there, and I felt comfortable.”
Soon Chris began meeting with the missionaries. “When they came over, they taught me a lesson and gave me a Book of Mormon,” he says. “They told me to read and pray, and I did. I didn’t feel anything at first, but then later on as I prayed, I felt great because it was like something inside of me was really warm. I know that was the Spirit, and it was a great feeling.”
Chris continued learning and decided to be baptized. “After being baptized, I received the Holy Ghost, received the Aaronic Priesthood, and was ordained a priest,” he says. “I felt special knowing that I am in God’s Church and that He loves me.”

Some of the moments where I’ve felt God’s love the most have been in His holy temples. There, my sweet wife and I were sealed together for time and eternity. I’ve gone there seeking guidance for decisions and to find peace during times of stress. In the temple, heaven seems more accessible, and revelation seems to flow more readily.

One day, my best friend from the Church provided it. I was to leave my parent’s house and establish a home elsewhere. I managed to get employment in Burntwood (Staffordshire) and bought a home there. After some time, my wife, Rajinder, let me go to a one-hour meeting one Sunday and I was called as the Sunday School president. But Rajinder refused to let the children go with me and at one time ripped up the Book of Mormon in front of me. She had been brought up as a strict Sikh and did not want to dishonour her family.

“Seven years after his death, I received a text from my son—or so it appeared.
“My teenage grandson (his son) had just celebrated a birthday and was given his dad’s old phone as a present.
“And I still hadn’t updated the contact information.
“Curious to see what my son and I said to each other in the last days of his life, I began to scroll through past texts.
“I saw many short messages about errands and family events. My heart sank the longer it took to find a text that simply said, ‘I love you.’
“I knew that he knew I loved him, but I wondered if I had missed the chance to say it one last time.
“Since then, I’ve tried to end every text with ‘Thank you’ or ‘I love you so much.’
“I want YOU to stop right now and check YOUR texts.
“Sometimes we get so busy telling each other the urgent things that we forget to say the most important thing: I love you.
“I invite you to text or tell the people you love and live with just how much you care about them.
“Let’s not wait another second to let them know how much they mean to us.
“Text them. Tell them.
“I promise you won’t regret it!
“‘Beloved, let us love one another: for love is of God’ (1 John 4:7).”
Sister Tamara W. Runia, Facebook, July 23, 2024, facebook.com/youngwomenworldwide.

How grateful I am that missionaries traveled across the world to teach me and my family in England 35 years ago. It was not long after our baptism that a fine local brother who was serving as counselor to the mission president said to me, “Find yourself a teacher who can lift you and inspire and motivate you. But remember, he must be standing on higher ground.”

The traffic signal changed to DON’T WALK just as the girls reached the corner. Carla stopped and lifted her sobbing sister up into the stone fence. She used a tissue to blot a trickle of blood from Pam’s knees and scratched hands. The dark-haired girl thought her little sister was more upset and angry than seriously injured. Still Carla was anxious to reach home and turn the problem over to their mother.
They had been playing at the park with friends when a group of older boys swaggered up to them and ordered the girls to leave the swings. The youths were too big for the play equipment but Carla and the others didn’t argue. The snickering boys were looking for trouble. As unfair as it was, the girls surrendered the swings.
Pam was too young to understand that it was best to avoid trouble and to leave the park at once. She had waited for her turn and she was determined to take it.
“Let’s go home, Pam. We can come back and play after supper,” Carla pleaded nervously. The other frightened girls had quickly left.
“No! They’re not playing fair,” Pam cried, looking stubborn. “It’s my turn and I don’t want to go home yet. You promised to swing me up high. I don’t want to play after supper. I want to swing now!”
“Pam, please! Let them have the swings,” Carla whispered. She tried to pry the little girl’s fingers loose from the chains, but Pam held on tightly.
“I’ll get that kid out of there!” the tallest boy boasted. He slapped Pam’s hands but she didn’t loosen her grip. The others laughed and shouted encouragement. Pam was frightened now and began to cry. One boy held Carla back when she tried to protect her sister. The tall one jerked and twisted the chains until Pam lost her balance and toppled out of the swing seat.
White with anger and fear, Carla fled with her wailing sister. The boys were scuffling over the swings and didn’t try to stop them.
Carla was busy trying to soothe Pam. She didn’t notice that a car had stopped at the curb until the driver called to her.
“Is the little girl hurt? Get in and I’ll take you home,” the smiling man offered, opening the car door.
Carla was so upset that she almost accepted the offer. She couldn’t stop Pam’s weeping, and the blood trickling down from her sister’s skinned knees frightened her. All she wanted to do was to get Pam home as soon as possible.
“Come on, honey, get in. Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you. All I want to do is help,” the driver said enticingly.
Suddenly Carla remembered repeated warnings about getting into cars with strangers. Her parents had told her never to accept a ride from anyone she didn’t know, no matter how nice the person seemed. She also remembered the lecture at school when a police officer had explained that some very sick people look normal but might be dangerous.
Something about the man bothered Carla. Most adults would have rushed to help a child who was hurt. But the florid-faced man didn’t really seem concerned about Pam’s injuries. He just kept inviting the girls into his car while glancing nervously into his rearview mirror. His darting eyes kept searching for anyone watching along the street.
Panic swept over Carla as she recognized a dented and rusted rear fender. She had seen the car before! The last two afternoons it had been parked near the play area at the park. The driver had stayed in it, apparently just watching the children.
Carla’s heart hammered with fear. “Thank you,” she stammered, “but we don’t need a ride. We live just down the block. We’re practically home now.”
It wasn’t true and the man sensed that she was not telling the truth. His eyes narrowed and he stopped smiling.
How can I run with Pam? Carla wondered. We’re over three blocks from home! Relief swept over her as she saw a neighbor’s car coming toward them. “Mr. Benning! Mr. Benning!” she shouted, waving frantically.
The stranger quickly slammed his open door and sped through a red light as Mr. Benning stopped his car and leaped out. Carla ran to him sobbing.
Later, with two police officers sitting in their living room, Carla felt embarrassed by all the trouble she seemed to be causing. Her parents were worried, and the policemen looked grim as one of them made notes.
“He didn’t really do anything,” she whispered shyly. “Maybe I was scared for nothing. Maybe he’s just a nice man who was trying to help us.”
“No, Carla. The man you’ve described isn’t a ‘nice’ man,” the tall officer stated flatly. “We know him. He’s suspected of being a child molester. If you and your sister had gotten into the car with him, you don’t know what might have happened. You were smart to remember all the warnings about accepting rides from strangers.”
Carla shivered and snuggled closer to her father. “I’ll always remember not to accept rides from strangers. And I’ll remind Pam and my friends too!” she said.
“Good,” the policeman said, smiling and closing his notebook. “The more children who remember, the easier my job will be. And don’t worry about any more trouble at the park. I’m going to talk to those older boys and their parents. When they understand that they may be banned from the park or arrested for bullying smaller children, they’ll stay at the ball diamond.” The officer smiled. “And none of you will have to miss your turns on the swings again,” he promised.

Sam Hansford, 17, Hobart, Tasmania. “It’s pretty amazing.” That’s how Sam describes the feeling he had when he gained his testimony. Something in seminary started him thinking. After school he went home and began to search the scriptures. “I prayed about it later that night,” he says, “and that’s when I started to feel the Holy Ghost.”

Thanks for printing the great article by Peggy Wiseman on the Playmill Theater. The article and pictures brought back wonderful memories of visiting the Playmill last summer and many summers before. We have a cabin in nearby Idaho, and I try to make it at least once a summer. Last summer my friend and I were so impressed by this group that we stayed an extra day just to see another show. The kids who work there are so excited about their “jobs” that you just can’t help but join in their excitement! My advice to anyone who’s going to be anywhere around West Yellowstone is don’t miss the Playmill!
Becky RoundsOgden, Utah

In my case, I denied that I had communication problems until I hit a dark point in my life and realized I needed help addressing some of my behavioral and thinking patterns.
So, after seeking guidance from Heavenly Father, I felt prompted to start meeting with a therapist. We put pieces of the puzzle of my heart together and discovered that the sources of many of my behaviors like masking pain with humor, burying emotions, and struggling to communicate effectively could possibly be traced back to a few generations before mine.
At first, I was scared by what this discovery meant for me. How could I possibly change habits that had been ingrained in me and my family? I even started to fear for my future family. Would I pass my issues on to them?
With these thoughts weighing on my mind, I didn’t think I could muster the effort to face these feelings and change these behavior cycles. But the Lord has counseled us to “be not afraid, only believe” (Mark 5:36).
As I prayed, God showed me that if I had a willing heart, He could change my heart and help me alter the behaviors that were preventing me from having healthy relationships and from growing emotionally and spiritually.
Ultimately, my healing involved the Savior. With Him, I was able to have difficult yet healing conversations with my family members, to take steps forward, to love more deeply and build greater relationships, to take uncomfortable steps forward, to forgive, and to find hope in the future. Believing in what Jesus Christ could do for me was the first step toward inviting His healing balm into my life through temple worship, prayer, and exercising faith.
As I combined these powerful spiritual tools with therapy and self-help books that helped me develop my communication skills, learn to feel and process my emotions, and understand the underlying reasons behind my behaviors, I have been able to see miraculous results of involving the Savior and Heavenly Father in this journey.

Our family has witnessed many miracles because of my sister, Cristina. She was born with a serious heart defect. When the doctors examined her, they told my parents she probably wouldn’t survive. My parents, however, held their fragile baby in their arms and put their trust in the Lord. Cristina’s survival was a miracle.