Gospel Story Finder

I was in my fifth semester of studying systems engineering when I turned 19. My parents told me if I went on a mission, they weren’t going to help me with my schooling when I returned.
During that difficult time of decision, the stake mission president shared a scripture with me I will never forget: “He that taketh not his cross, and followeth after me, is not worthy of me” (Matt. 10:38). Another verse also touched my heart and helped me make my choice: “Every one that hath forsaken houses, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lands, for my name’s stake, shall receive an hundredfold, and shall inherit everlasting life” (Matt. 19:29). I decided to obey the will of God and serve Him full time for two years.
My mission wasn’t just the most enriching experience of my life—it was a commandment from my Heavenly Father. Despite the difficulties that always seem to arise, I know that when the Lord gives us a commandment, He prepares a way (see 1 Ne. 3:7).
I served in the Colombia Cali Mission. Teaching in my homeland, the land of my ancestors and my relatives, was not only one of the greatest blessings of my service, it made me—in my small way—a fulfillment of prophecy: “For behold, the Lord doth grant unto all nations, of their own nation and tongue, to teach his word, yea, in wisdom, all that he seeth fit that they should have; therefore we see that the Lord doth counsel in wisdom, according to that which is just and true” (Alma 29:8). How grateful I am to have heard and to have shared His wise counsel.

The Day My Mom Almost Enrolled in Preschool! Who’s more worried about the first day of preschool, Jordan or his mom? And who feels better about it first?Dianne Dannhaus3–5 years

I remember a story about cows that was told many years ago by one of our church leaders. He said that he had a city cousin who came to their farm to stay with them. This city cousin didn’t know where milk actually came from. He thought it just came in bottles. When the family told the boy that milk came from cows, he didn’t believe it. Then when he saw the cows eating green grass, he felt sure that they couldn’t turn it into white milk! But when milking time came and he saw streams of white milk coming right from the cow, he was confused.

After the cows were all milked, it was time to feed the calves. He watched in amazement as one of the boys put two of his fingers in a calf’s mouth so it would start sucking. Then the boy put his hand and the calf’s nose right down into a bucket of warm milk. The calf got its milk by sucking on the fingers submerged in the milk bucket.

About this time it suddenly dawned on the city cousin what was happening. “Hey, now I understand!” he said excitedly. “You put it into them when they are little, and you take it out of them when they are big!”

Well, most people understand that it isn’t quite that simple, but this story serves as an example from which you can learn. Your parents and teachers put a lot of training, teaching, and helping into you, and the day will come when the Church and the schools and the businesses and the government will need to get it all back out of you.

Liola Christine Nau Hingano grew up in the Church, and she often saw the missionaries serving in her community. “I wanted to serve a mission myself,” she says. However, serving would not be easy.
Shortly after Liola submitted her mission papers, she became very sick. The doctors discovered she had a tumor and had to perform surgery to remove it. While she was in the hospital, Liola received her mission call—to serve in Tonga. She had two months to recover before starting her mission, but it was a difficult time for Liola because her parents thought a mission would be too hard on her and didn’t want her to go.
“But I believed that because the Lord had called me, I would be OK, so I decided to go,” she says. “When I entered the missionary training center, the mission president gave me a blessing and said that as I served the Lord, I would be as healthy as any missionary.
“My first mission area was very hard. We walked for miles each day just to get to the area where we were working. We carried our scriptures with us, and the sun was hot. But I knew I would be fine because I had received a priesthood blessing that said so. And I was. I never had trouble because of my previous illness.
“I am very grateful I had the courage to go on a mission and not turn back. It has made such a difference in who I am today—and in my testimony. I have faith in our Savior and Heavenly Father.”

This was the first youth conference and an excellent experience for Jenice Sumarajan of the West Marredpally Third Ward. “The workshops were well thought out,” she said. “And I have learned how important it is to recognize addictions and overcome them and to make and keep sacred covenants in the Lord’s holy temple and the blessings of temple attendance. We were also taught about scripture study and to record our impressions in a journal and I felt the Spirit as I did it.”

Carolani was having a particularly bad time. She said: “I asked in my mind, ‘What did Heavenly Father want me to do?’ I got the impression to read my patriarchal blessing, so I did. I cried tears of joy knowing I was someone who was loved and worth something” (letter).

But then I said under my breath, “What’s the point? There is no such person named Jesus Christ anyway.” Immediately a voice came into my head and said to me, “There is, and you will serve me one day.” The voice seemed so natural, as if a friend were talking to me. The years went by, however, and I forgot about the experience.
I made the commitment to be baptized a week after finishing the discussions. After my baptism, Elder Ross and Elder Fullerger laid their hands on my head to give me the gift of the Holy Ghost. As soon as their hands touched my head, my experience with the Spirit 20 years before came back to me. Something precious that had been preserved within me—but had been suppressed by all the mistakes I had made in life—was spiritually reunited with my memory. I was overwhelmed to think that I meant so much to the Savior that He had not forgotten me.

Making the varsity basketball team in junior high school was probably the most exciting athletic achievement of my life. Just being part of the team and working out with the other players was a thrill.
I still remember what happened one day during a practice session. One of our teammates missed a pass. Then, a few minutes later, he made another error. This time he swore, and our coach heard him.
Now, Coach Fishburn was the most outstanding man I had ever met. He was bright, and he knew basketball and young men. After the practice, the coach called us together to talk about our practice. And he brought up the subject of profanity. “A good athlete never needs to swear,” he said. “Swearing only cheapens the athlete and makes him look weak. Men of greatness have no need for foul language—it only makes them look small in the eyes of other people.”
Although my basketball career was brief, Coach Fishburn’s words have always stayed with me. “Men [and women] of greatness have no need of foul language.”

After reading “President Kimball Speaks Out on Morality” in the November issue of the New Era, I gained a great appreciation of President Kimball’s concern for the youth of the Church. I have been one of the “youth of the Church” for a little over a year, but I haven’t been baptized yet because I am only 16 and my parents won’t grant their permission. I feel a great love for President Kimball and appreciate these guidelines which are a tremendous help in a world so corrupt.
Michael GrosWinnipeg, Manitoba, Canada

While I was performing the ordinances for Olga in the temple, one word kept coming to my mind: mission. But I was puzzled—I was busy raising three children by myself, and I couldn’t possibly go on a mission.
The answer came several months later. One day my cousin Renzo told me that Olga’s mother, my aunt Anita, had passed away. Suddenly I recalled that I had completed the temple work for Olga on a Tuesday, and her mother had passed away the following Friday. With great emotion, I felt impressed that Olga had been eager to receive her temple ordinances so she could welcome and teach her mother in the spirit world. Perhaps that was Olga’s mission.

I was reading my scriptures, and I found one I really liked. It was 2 Nephi 32:3. It talked about feasting upon the words of Christ, and that if we do this, the Holy Ghost will tell us all the things we should do. This scripture helps me choose the right. I memorized it a long time ago.
Madeline G., age 8, Utah, USA

“He had spent another forty-five minutes that day talking to my friend Arthur Sperry, and ten years later, when I was in that same office as bishop, Arthur was serving as my counselor. He became the bishop when I was released, and he became a mission president and a temple president about the same times that I did. I have counted twenty-nine bishops, eleven mission presidents, and three temple presidents who grew up in the Fourth Ward while Bishop Perschon served there as bishop. Elder Theodore M. Burton, whose life was also influenced positively by Bishop Perschon, grew up in that ward too.”

Our mission has blessed us in so many ways. Some people say, “I don’t know if I can serve a mission. I can’t leave my grandkids.” We had five little grandsons when we left, ages five, four, three, two, one. Two granddaughters were born while we were gone. I’m going to save two of my Cambodian missionary name tags and give them to my baby girls so they will know that Grandma wasn’t there because Grandma was doing what the Lord needed her to do.

When Liisa, 20, first heard about the job at the Delfinaario (dolphin aquarium), she was excited. She had good qualifications. In the Finnish equivalent of high school, she’d studied biology, but also math, science, physics, and chemistry.

“All those things are part of the job,” she explains. “Plus that, I’ve always been interested in animals.” And the job would help her earn money to pay for college in Sweden. Her enthusiasm and background paid off. She was hired.

His father was busy with his work and Church callings, but President Faust said: “When we were playing football, he’d drop whatever he was doing and be at almost every practice every night. Not just the games—the practices. And he never missed an in-state track meet that any of us was involved in” (“Elder James E. Faust: Sharing His Love for the Lord,” Ensign, Oct. 1986, 7).

“I went through frozen mud and slush with my feet tied up in rags,” wrote one anonymous Latter-day Saint who attended the icy ground-breaking ceremonies for the Salt Lake Temple on 14 February 1853. “I had on a pair of pants made out of my wife’s skirt—a thin Scotch plaid; also a thin calico shirt and a straw hat. These were all the clothes I had. It was go that way or stay at home. … I was not alone in poverty; … there were many who were fixed as badly as I was.” He was one of thousands who arrived at an early hour for the ceremony, scheduled for eleven o’clock that morning.

“Are you going to paint this Saturday?” has been the familiar question among many college youth in Las Vegas, where they have painted the inside and outside of a church built by the Afro-Methodist Episcopal Church whose members were having trouble getting the building finished. The congregation lacked funds. The Student Association of Las Vegas Region pitched in and raised $4,000, in addition to painting the building. Under the direction of priesthood leader James Seastrand, president of the Las Vegas North Stake, and Reverend Charles Wyatt, the project got under way. It was a great time of togetherness, with the Relief Society and the ladies of the Afro-Methodist congregation providing lunch each workday. Funds were raised through dances, bake sales, car washes, and concerts. “The unity among the students and with people of another race was something wonderful to behold,” said Shauna Rollins, vice-chairman of one M Men-Gleaner Council in the area.

James Metcalf, of the Alma Branch, was working at a health spa. The earthquake hit when he was lifting a heavy barbell. With one heave he replaced the weight on its rack and ducked under the door frame.
The water in the pool splashed into a high wave, dumping stunned swimmers onto the deck. Lockers fell, and hot tubs became bubbling geysers. James evacuated the building. After making sure everyone was okay, he locked the doors and headed home, a cautious drive that took more than three hours. Dozens of aftershocks bounced the car.
Finally, he made it to his house. The porches were torn away, and in panic he thought his family might still be inside. “Then I remembered our contingency plan,” James said. “They were in the orchard.” He found his family, with their camping equipment and a sleeping bag all ready for him.
The night of the earthquake, when James settled into his sleeping bag with his family in the orchard next to their damaged house, his little brother asked, “Dad, does this mean we’re homeless?”
Brother Metcalf answered, “No, son, we’re together as a family, and we have our tents. Our family is a forever family. We’ll build another house.”
At that moment James remembered a seminary scripture. “When the devil shall send forth his mighty winds, yea, his shafts in the whirlwind, yea, when all his hail and his mighty storm shall beat upon you …” (Wasn’t there anything in there about earthquakes?) “… it shall have no power over you to drag you down to the gulf of misery and endless wo, because of the rock upon which ye are built, which is a sure foundation, a foundation whereon if men build they cannot fall” (see Hel. 5:12).

“Hans, mein Sohn, was machst du da?”
“Vater, ich studiere.”
“Hans, mein Sohn, das kannst du nicht.”
“Vater, ich probiere.”
“Hans, my son, what are you doing?”
“Father, I’m studying.”
“Hans, my son, you can’t do that.”
“Father, I am trying.”
“That was one of the first readings that I learned in school. Because it included my first name, Hans, it was very meaningful to me then, and it still is. I’m still trying today.”

“I was born in a land that is now behind the Iron Curtain. Probably one of my choicest experiences was to be at the dedication ceremony of the Freiberg Temple. The temple is very near the place where I was born. It was a soul-stirring experience to see my own people waving white handkerchiefs to President Gordon B. Hinckley and Elder Thomas S. Monson as the bus pulled away at the conclusion of the dedication.