Gospel Story Finder

A few years ago, when Elder Merrill J. Bateman of the Presidency of the Seventy was in Japan, the missionaries introduced him to a young Japanese brother who had just joined the Church. He was from a non-Christian background. When he met the missionaries, he was interested in the message, but he could not understand or feel the need for a Savior, and he didn’t have a witness regarding the gospel. One day the missionaries decided to show him a film about the Atonement. The young man saw the film, but still he didn’t have a witness.

“The next morning he went to work. He worked in an optician’s shop making eyeglasses. … An elderly woman came in. He remembered her coming in a few weeks before. She had broken her glasses. She needed a new pair. When she had come in earlier, she didn’t have enough money and had gone away to save more in order to purchase the new glasses. As she came in that day, she again showed him her spectacles and showed him the money that she now had. He realized that she didn’t have enough yet. Then a thought came to him: I have some money. I don’t need to tell her. I can make up the difference. So he told her the money she had was adequate, took her glasses, [and] made an appointment for her to return when he had finished making the spectacles. …

“She returned later. He had the glasses ready for her. He handed them to her, and she put them on [and exclaimed] ‘… I see. I see.’ Then she began to cry. At that point, a burning sensation began to grow within his bosom and swelled within him. He said, ‘… I understand. I understand.’ He began to cry. Out the door he ran, looking for the missionaries. When he found them, he said, ‘I see! My eyes have been opened! I know that Jesus is the Son of God. I know the stone was rolled away from the tomb and on that glorious Easter morning He arose from the dead. He can make up the difference in my life when I fall short.’”2

“My father was a great missionary in the southern part of the United States. He really brought the full gospel programs to those good people. I told my father once that he seemed to preach only two messages—one was missionary work and the other was the restoration of the gospel. His reply came quickly, ‘Well, if the Lord doesn’t like my subject matter, He can call me home. I don’t know what it would be like to be dead, but it surely is great to be alive!’”

A note of warning:
There was a young lady named Perkins,
Who was hooked on the habit of gherkins.
One day on a spree
She ate 93
And pickled her internal workin’s.
Anonymous

I used to fight a lot with my parents too. But then I started just talking to them. When bad things happened to me, I realized that they are always there for me. Now we have a close relationship, and although we still fight sometimes, it’s gotten to be less and less. You’ll learn to love and understand your parents and realize that they know a lot more than you think.Cassidy Kremin, 16Papillion, Nebraska

I was taught this lesson powerfully a number of years ago by our then-16-year-old daughter, Jennifer. She was about to have a double lung transplant, where the five diseased lobes of her lungs would be completely removed and replaced by two healthy smaller lobes, donated by two amazing Christlike friends. It was a very high-risk procedure, yet the night before her surgery, Jennifer almost preached to me with all of her 90 pounds (41 kg), saying, “Don’t worry, Dad! Tomorrow I will wake up with new lungs, or I will wake up in a better place. Either way will be great.” That is faith; that is eternal perspective! Seeing life from an eternal vantage point provides clarity, comfort, courage, and hope.
After the surgery, when the long-awaited day came to remove the breathing tube and turn off the ventilator that had been helping Jennifer breathe, we anxiously waited to see if her two smaller lobes would work. When she took her first breath, she immediately started crying. Seeing our concern, she quickly exclaimed, “It’s just so good to breathe.”
Ever since that day, I have thanked Heavenly Father morning and night for my ability to breathe. We are surrounded by innumerable blessings that we can easily take for granted if we are not mindful. Conversely, when nothing is expected and everything is appreciated, life becomes magical.

No matter how carefully we walk through life’s paths, we pick up some thorns, briars, and slivers. When I was a young boy and school was out for the summer, we went to the farm and off came our shoes. For the first week or two, when our feet were tender, the smoothest pebble or stick would be painful. But as the weeks came and went, the soles of our feet toughened so that they could withstand almost anything in the path except thistles, of which there seemed to be more than any other weed. And so it is with life: as we grow and mature and keep close to Him who was crowned with thorns, our souls seem to get stronger in withstanding the challenges, our resolve hardens, our wills become firmer, and our self-discipline increases to protect us from the evils of this world. These evils are so omnipresent, however, that we must always walk in the paths that are the most free of the thistles of earthly temptation.

Many in the Chyulu area desired to join the Church, but because Chyulu was so isolated, the mission leaders decided to limit membership until sufficient local leadership was developed. Among those who came to church weekly were two men from another village. They rode their bicycles two hours each way. When they requested that they and others be allowed to be baptized, President Brown granted their request on condition that only the two men and their families be baptized. However, since African villages are often made up of large extended families, 40 jubilant converts arrived to be baptized.
Due to a lack of water in Chyulu, arranging for the baptisms was a challenge. President Brown and a missionary couple had made the arduous journey from Nairobi to Chyulu by truck, hauling baptismal clothing and a water storage tank to be used as the baptismal font. In Chyulu local brethren spent five hours pumping and hauling water six kilometers over “the rockiest of roads.” Then brethren knelt in the water around the outside edge of the tank so the water was deep enough for each of the candidates to be immersed. Following the baptism, the new members bore their testimonies. They expressed deep gratitude for the gospel, especially one sister who had been attending church for 10 years. They sang hymns of praise as they traveled home in the dark and the rain.8

“I didn’t go to the same seventh and eighth grade that all the people in my neighborhood and ward did, but I transferred back during my freshman year in high school. I had a hard time fitting in because they were all together and I was all alone.”
Another part of creativity is recognizing what abilities you truly do have. Not all talents involve being able to perform in front of others. For example, remember how Ivey talked about having a tough time fitting in at a new school?
“There was a girl in one of my classes that I didn’t know at all,” Ivey explains. “One day she said hi to me. I found out her name. We would see each other in the halls. She would ask me how I was doing or help me understand my homework. She was really nice and genuinely interested. She tried to learn a little about me. She invited me to a basketball game. I started going with her friends and integrated into that group. Because of what she did for me, I developed confidence. She had a talent for reaching out.”

You can’t help but like Andrea* when you meet her. She’s warm and friendly and fun, and she knows how to make you feel good about yourself.

But she wasn’t always like that.

For a long time, she carried around a dark and tragic secret that she could confess to no one. She cried a lot. She was usually depressed. She withdrew from people—wasn’t close to anyone, and didn’t have the self-confidence to excel in school or anything else. Andrea had been sexually abused when she was younger.

“I thought I had committed a terrible sin,” she said. “I thought it was too gross to tell anyone. I felt disgusting and totally worthless, until a very understanding bishop explained to me that it wasn’t my fault, that the Lord still loved me, and that I could get help.”

The help Andrea got, which included professional and spiritual counseling, is enabling her to put those traumatic experiences in the past and become emotionally and spiritually healthy again.

Going through these stages has helped Andrea begin to lead a happier, more fulfilling life. Others like her who have experienced sexual abuse can also begin to recover. It is important for them to realize that they have a right not to be abused, and that they need to get help if it happens. They need to know that they are not at fault, that they are not impure, nor are they any less chaste. And most of all, they need to know that Heavenly Father still loves them, has great hope for them, and has provided ways for them to recover.

When the sunshine tickled my nose, I woke up. I pulled my quilt a little higher and started to roll over. Then I remembered! It was March 17—the day my family had been waiting for had finally arrived. I jumped out of bed and skipped down the hall, humming, “I Love to See the Temple”* to myself.
After breakfast Mom helped me into my favorite blue dress. Then I helped her dress my baby brother, Curtis, in his Sunday clothes. Today was not Sunday, but it felt just as special. Six months ago my parents had adopted my little brother. He was so cute. His cheeks were really chubby, and when he smiled at me without any teeth, he made me laugh.
Because my parents had been sealed in the temple, I knew that I was born in the covenant. That meant I was sealed to them. But because my brother was adopted, he wasn’t born in the covenant. Today we were going to the Logan Utah Temple to have him sealed to us so our whole family could be together forever someday if we live righteously.
When we arrived at the temple, Mom carried Curtis, and I held her hand. Dad carried three small suitcases. The grass was starting to turn green, and a few birds were singing in the bare branches of the trees. Right in front of the temple were some pretty yellow and purple flowers.
We walked through the front doors, and I felt a warm hug without anyone touching me. A man looked at the recommends my parents showed him. A nice lady led us down a hall to the nursery. My parents gave my brother and me a hug, and Dad handed my little red suitcase to the lady. Then my parents went to another part of the temple. The nice lady let me color a picture, and she rolled a ball to Curtis. He laughed. He loves balls.
After a while, the lady helped me change into my new white dress. Then we changed Curtis’s diaper and put his new white clothes on him. The lady said, “The temple is Heavenly Father’s house, and we should be reverent when we walk through the halls.”
“I don’t know if Curtis knows what reverent means,” I said.
She smiled and said, “Heavenly Father loves little children very much, and He’ll understand if Curtis is a little bit noisy.”
As we walked down the halls, I noticed the white carpet. I also saw some pictures of Jesus on the walls. It was easy to be reverent in such a quiet place. We came to a door that was closed. Another lady softly opened the door, and I looked inside. I saw my grandpas and grandmas and my uncles and aunts. They were all smiling at me. Then I saw my mom. She was dressed in white. She looked like an angel. She held out her arms and gave me a hug. Then she reached for Curtis and held him tight, too.
A man dressed in a white suit, called the sealer, greeted us. He talked about the blessings and promises we could receive through temple ordinances if we live worthily. The sealer then told us what to do. He blessed us by the power of the priesthood, and Curtis was sealed to our family. I looked up at my dad. There were tears on his cheeks. He took Curtis in his arms and held him tightly. Mom had tears in her eyes, too. She squeezed my hand, and I felt her love.
When we stood up, the sealer knelt down so he was just my height and asked me, “Do you know what forever or eternity looks like?”
I shook my head and said, “No.”
Then he told my family to stand together and look into a mirror. There was another mirror behind us, too. I looked, and I saw my mom holding Curtis and my dad holding me. I was surprised because I could see us again and again and again and we never seemed to stop. Then the sealer whispered to me, “That is what forever looks like.”
Now, whenever I remember that special day, I think about what forever is like. I imagine my family going on and on, always being together and smiling. I like to think about forever. It gives me a warm feeling inside.

In July 2020, President Campbell’s great-grandson, Dale Campbell Maurer, became the last of three brothers to receive a call as mission president; his older brothers, Wayne and Carl had already served in that capacity. These brothers were born in Brisbane Australia as fifth generation Church members and grew up with their great-grandfather’s legacy of faith, dedication, and service.
Middle brother Carl, a current Area Seventy for the Pacific Area, served as mission president in the Australia Perth Mission from 2007 to 2010. This was the same mission where he had served as a young man. His older brother, Wayne, served as mission president in the Philippines Tacloban Mission from 2014-2017 and is currently the missionary training center president for the Philippines. Wayne had also served his first mission as a young man in the Philippines Manila Mission. Dale, the youngest brother, has been serving in the North Carolina Raleigh Mission since 2020. He served his first mission in the Australian Melbourne Mission.

Pleiades, or the Seven Sisters, is a constellation of seven stars that are so far away their light needs 350 years to reach the earth.
Ranging in age from their early twenties to late thirties, seven sisters from Mexico are letting their light shine in their family and in the mission field as they share the gospel with people in five countries.
Marisol (Chile Osorno), Antonia (Argentina Resistencia), Daniela (Costa Rica San José), Florencia (Honduras Comayaguela), Verónica (Chile Santiago East), Anai (Guatemala City North), and Balbina Nava Aguilar (Argentina Bahía Blanca) are concurrently serving missions for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
The sisters’ first contact with LDS missionaries was when they began attending free English classes at a local chapel. In 2006 they—along with another sister and their brother—were baptized. Their parents, Albino Nava and Isidra Aguilar, who had joined the Church three decades earlier, came back into full activity at that time.
Sister Aguilar said she can see the good that has come of sending her seven daughters on missions.
“They are in the Lord’s hands, working, preaching His gospel to bring more souls [to Him],” she said.
“I love this gospel and I know that the work changes lives,” Florencia said. “It changed mine, and it will change the lives of those I teach.”
The sisters begin returning home at the end of 2011.

Learn about the Savior. Several years ago I read and underlined every verse in the scriptures about Jesus Christ. When I finished, I told my wife, “I am a different man!”

In December 2024, Elder Stevenson, Elder Matthew S. Holland of the Seventy, and Relief Society General President Camille N. Johnson attended an unveiling ceremony for a Martha Hughes Cannon statue in the US Capitol, sculpted by Ben Hammond.
“She was determined. She was tenacious,” President Johnson said. “I hope that women—including my granddaughters, and my great-granddaughters—will learn of Martha Hughes Cannon and be inspired by her example.”
In December 2024, Relief Society General President Camille N. Johnson and other Church leaders attended an unveiling ceremony for a Martha Hughes Cannon statue in the US Capitol.

Chris shuffled his feet a little to hear the brush, brush sound they made in the blue paper booties covering his shoes. He was standing in line with his family, waiting to go into the San Diego California Temple for the open house.
Dad bent down and put a hand on Chris’s shoulder. "Temple open houses are very special," he said. "I remember when I went to the Provo Utah Temple open house. I had watched the workers building it from just an empty field up to a finished temple. When we were inside, I knew it was Heavenly Father’s house. I was a little bit older than you are, but you’ll remember this your whole life, just like I did."
Mom turned toward them. "That’s right. I remember when I went to the Seattle Washington Temple open house a long time ago. That’s why we drove all the way here. Getting to tour a temple before it’s dedicated is a very special opportunity."
Chris thought about their long drive through the desert to get to San Diego. There had been nothing interesting to look at out the windows, and his little sister cried most of the way. Even his older sister got a little bit tired of all the driving. But since they had come so far, he knew it was important.
Chris folded his arms and walked as quietly as he could in his blue paper shoes through the temple tour. He couldn’t remember ever being somewhere so beautiful. The carpet was white. The windows were tall. The pictures on the walls were beautiful. It felt more reverent than any place he had been before.
As they walked up the stairs, Chris held tightly to the handrail. He was smiling brightly.
Mom whispered to him, "How do you feel?"
Chris looked up at her and Dad. "I feel like I’m holding the iron rod."

My brethren and sisters, last Sunday as I sat in my study thinking of what I might say on this occasion, I received a phone call telling me that Staff Sergeant James W. Cawley of the U.S. Marines had been killed somewhere in Iraq. He was 41 years of age, leaving behind a wife and two small children.
Twenty years ago Elder Cawley was a missionary of the Church in Japan. Like so many others, he had grown up in the Church, had played as a schoolboy, had passed the sacrament as a deacon, and had been found worthy to serve a mission, to teach the gospel of peace to the people of Japan. He returned home, served in the Marines, married, became a policeman, and was then recalled to active military duty, to which he responded without hesitation.
His life, his mission, his military service, his death seem to represent the contradictions of the peace of the gospel and the tides of war.

The last colorful rays of the setting sun had faded into the western horizon, and the dark of the night was beginning to settle down over the desert. My father and I were finishing our evening meal and making plans for the night and the next day.
Father was a large, strong man with a kind heart, and he was happy to have his oldest son with him on this trip. We were going to drive 500 sheep we had just purchased to their new home on the other side of the 135 kilometer wide desert. In the desert there was little water, and the days would be hot and the nights cool. The plan was to drive the sheep in the cool of the night and allow them to rest during the heat of the day. We hoped that by doing this the sheep could go without water for three days. Arriving on the other side of the desert, they would be met by a wagon loaded with barrels of water for the thirsty sheep. Our own drinking water for the journey was carried in a 19 liter milk can in the back of our old car.
My father was a gentle and considerate man, and he said to me. “I’ll drive the sheep tonight while you sleep. After you awaken in the morning, eat your breakfast, gather up our camp gear, pack it in the car, and then drive down the trail until you reach me and the sheep.”
Everything went as planned. Father drove the sheep through the night into the desolate area. When I awakened the next morning, I ate a hurried breakfast and packed the car. As I drove the old car along the uncertain wagon trail in the desert, it was difficult to see signs of Father and the sheep, and their trail was especially hard to follow through some of the rocky areas. Still, everything went pretty well for the first few kilometers until there was a fork in the road. I wished Father were there to tell me which road to take. Finally, I decided to take the better road on the right. I drove along without incident for a few kilometers until I came to a deep washout. There the road faded out completely.
Without a map or road signs, fear gripped my heart. I am lost! I thought. What shall I do? Then I remembered the words of my Scout leader: “If you are lost, stop and wait. Then give some kind of a warning signal.”
I took the old rifle from the car and fired three quick shots into the air, praying that Father would hear; then I waited and prayed and waited some more.
After what seemed like such a long time, I saw Father in the distance, running toward me and waving his arms! It wasn’t long after that wonderful meeting until we were safely home with the sheep. How relieved and thankful I was for a father who cared and who could show me the right way to go.

I remember visiting South Vietnam some years ago. I talked individually with two or three hundred men—men who had waded through the blood and heat of battle, but men who were virtuous in their lives. I remember one of them, a boy who had just come down from the Rock Pile near the Demilitarized Zone, who said in response to a question on morality: “Not on your life—I couldn’t do that. I want to be worthy of a great girl some day.”

President Kimball’s wife, Camilla, has devotedly and lovingly followed her husband every step of the way. I remember one night in Samoa when both President and Sister Kimball had temperatures of 104 degrees. Early the next morning they were the first ones on the bus. He conducted the meetings, and they fulfilled all their busy schedule throughout the day, not just enduring, but being gracious and considerate and thinking of the needs of everyone else around them.

Mom, I am sorry for the times that, after you had spanked me with good reason, I told you that I hated you. I would write it on a piece of paper and then give it to you. I was just mad that I didn’t get my way, but I really did love you.