Gospel Story Finder

A young man once came to Socrates and said, “Mr. Socrates, I have come sixteen hundred miles to talk to you about wisdom and learning.” He said, “You are a man of wisdom and learning and I would like to be a man of wisdom and learning. Would you teach me how to be a man of wisdom and learning?”

Socrates said, “Come, follow me.” And he led the way down to the seashore.

Then they waded out into the water up to their waists. Then Socrates seized his friend and held his head under the water. His friend struggled and kicked and bucked and tried to get away but Socrates held him down. Now if you hold somebody’s head under the water long enough he will eventually become fairly peaceable, and when this man had quit kicking, Socrates carried him out on the bank and laid him out to dry, and he went back to the marketplace.

After this man had thawed out a little bit he came back to Socrates to find the reason for this rather unusual behavior, and Socrates said to him, “When your head was under the water, what was the one thing you wanted more than anything else?”

And he said, “More than anything else I wanted air.”

Then Socrates said, “When you want wisdom and learning like you wanted air, you won’t need to ask anybody to give it to you.”

I grew up in South Africa. South Africa has wonderful game parks where wild animals such as lions, elephants, giraffes, and zebras roam free. When I was a boy, our family would often visit these game parks. Seeing the beauty of the animals and the wilderness was always a spiritual experience. It gave me a love for the creations of the Lord. Visiting South Africa’s game parks is a tradition my wife, Diane, and I have continued with our own four children.
Other traditions I grew up with that have continued in my own family today are family prayer and scripture study. Although we were not members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints when I was a boy, my parents had strong Christian roots and taught us good values.
Our regular prayer and scripture study prepared us for when the missionaries knocked on our door. I was 20 years old at the time. We immediately recognized the truths the missionaries were teaching as we learned about modern prophets, the Book of Mormon, and the Restoration of the gospel. As I read the Book of Mormon, from the very first verse I knew it was true. Our entire family was soon baptized.
I hope you young children will look forward to being baptized and receiving the gift of the Holy Ghost. I did not receive those blessings until I was 20, so I remember well what it was like not to have the power of this gift in my life. I read the Bible every day starting when I was a young boy, but I understood the scriptures so much better after I received the gift of the Holy Ghost.
Even at a very young age, children can feel the influence of the Holy Ghost. I remember a family home evening in which tears started streaming down the cheeks of our five-year-old daughter, Chanel. I thought her brother, Christopher, might have pinched her or something, so I asked, “Chanel, why are you crying?” She answered, “Daddy, I feel so happy.”
I can’t remember what the family home evening lesson was about, but I stopped and said, “Chanel, what you’re feeling is the power and influence of the Holy Ghost.” She replied, “Yes, Daddy, I know that is true.” Like Chanel, you can feel the happy, peaceful feeling, which will tell you when something is right or true.
The Holy Ghost will also help you to do what is right, even when that seems very difficult. I hope you children will never be afraid to stand up for what is right. I still remember an experience I had in primary school. Primary school includes first through seventh grades. When I was about 12 and in my final year of primary school, the head boy, who was supposed to be the school leader, was actually the school’s biggest bully. He and three or four of his pals would go around teasing other kids.
I was new at the school, so one day he tried to intimidate me. When he discovered I would not respond to his intimidation, he gave up and bullied other kids, especially the weaker ones. One day when I saw this happening, I walked over and told him to stop. I said that if he did not stop I would defend the smaller boy. There stood the bully with his three or four friends, surrounding this small, timid boy and myself. It was very scary. I thought they were going to beat me up. To my surprise, the bully withered under my words. He and his friends made some smart remarks and left.
Throughout the rest of the year I continued to defend other boys from these bullies. Others started to do so too, until the bullies gradually lost all their power and influence. Children, the lesson I learned from this experience was that when we do things for the right reason, even when it is very difficult, the Lord will bless us and help us. He needs courageous people to stand up and defend what is right and reduce the influence of evil. You are never too young to begin doing so. When you stand for what is right, you will discover that good triumphs.

After a night of intense pain and suffering, one morning a husband stricken with a terminal illness said to his wife with great feeling, “I am so thankful today.” “For what?” she asked, knowing well his difficult and trying situation. He replied, “For God giving me the privilege of one more day with you.” A voice of gladness is so refreshing when an attitude of despair might be deemed appropriate.

For her Faith in God Award, Chevon Rayner is working on several activities and keeping a record of them in her journal. For the “Learning and Living the Gospel” category, she created a gospel crossword puzzle with 72 answers. She made it up from notes she took in her Primary class. She is studying the piano to develop her talents and meet the great need for pianists in the branches in Malaysia. Chevon also organized a dinner and made cakes for Valentine’s Day for the eight missionaries in her area. This is part of her “Serving Others” requirement. She also reads the scriptures every day.

Summer ended, and I found myself flying off to Iceland. The weather was atrocious, the work was hard, and after the first cold, wet month, I was overcome with discouragement.
I tried to save myself by concentrating on work and studying more, but my confidence continued to sink.
One dark day, when the Icelandic police required everyone to stay inside because of Arctic cold and high winds, I sat on the couch in our apartment. Running through my cross-referenced collection of memories, I stumbled across the image of myself clinging to the cliffs at home. I looked at the blizzard outside and realized I was once again in just that position. I’d swum to the cliff and done all that I could, but my own strength could carry me no more.
I remembered the scripture in Matthew that said, “But when he saw the wind boisterous, he was afraid; and beginning to sink, he cried, saying, Lord, save me. And immediately Jesus stretched forth his hand, and caught him” (Matt. 14:30–31).
My confidence in myself exhausted, unable to climb farther, I had no choice but to humble myself and reach for the Savior’s hand. My mission president gave me a priesthood blessing that I would find the assurance I sought. I trusted him. Although I saw no angels or pillars of light, and although the storms continued, I discovered that I had received the gift of strength I needed.

Kisiah enjoyed the giving machine too! Her family chose “Go Caroling” as a service project. They started by visiting a handful of ward members. Then, as they saw the grateful tears and broad smiles of those they visited, Kisiah’s family kept deciding to visit just one more house. And then another. “We wanted to spend the whole night out, but we had to cut it short because people need sleep!” she says.

One day I received a letter from one of my former missionaries. He had labored under me while I was a mission president, and now he was in the armed forces. He was successful in bringing a young man into the Church. This young man wrote him a letter, and he sent it to me to read. It read something like this:
“I have just written a letter to my mother and to my best girl. I have been quoting to them out of the Book of Mormon.” Then he started mentioning the words of Nephi, Alma, and some of the other great prophets. He continued, “They are the best letters I have ever written.” You know, it is wonderful when the gospel gets into someone’s heart enough so that he can write to his mother and his best girl and have them be the best letters he has ever written.

I gained my testimony of the power of prayer when I was about 12 years old. I had worked hard to earn some money and had managed to save five dollars. This was during the Great Depression, when five dollars was a substantial sum of money—especially for a boy of 12. I gave all my coins, which totaled five dollars, to my father, and he gave me in return a five-dollar bill. I know there was something specific I planned to purchase with the five dollars, although all these years later I can’t recall what it was. I just remember how important that money was to me.
At the time, we did not own a washing machine, so my mother would send to the laundry each week our clothes which needed to be washed. After a couple of days, a load of what we called “wet wash” would be returned to us, and Mother would hang the items on our clothesline out back to dry.
I had tucked my five-dollar bill in the pocket of my jeans. As you can probably guess, my jeans were sent to the laundry with the money still in the pocket. When I realized what had happened, I was sick with worry. I knew that pockets were routinely checked at the laundry prior to washing. If my money was not discovered and taken during that process, I knew it was almost certain the money would be dislodged during washing and would be claimed by a laundry worker who would have no idea to whom the money should be returned, even if he had the inclination to do so. The chances of getting back my five dollars were extremely remote—a fact which my dear mother confirmed when I told her I had left the money in my pocket.
I wanted that money; I needed that money; I had worked very hard to earn that money. I realized there was only one thing I could do. In my extremity I turned to my Father in Heaven and pleaded with Him to keep my money safe in that pocket somehow until our wet wash came back.
Two very long days later, when I knew it was about time for the delivery truck to bring our wash, I sat by the window, waiting. As the truck pulled up to the curb, my heart was pounding. As soon as the wet clothes were in the house, I grabbed my jeans and ran to my bedroom. I reached into the pocket with trembling hands. When I didn’t find anything immediately, I thought all was lost. And then my fingers touched that wet five-dollar bill. As I pulled it from the pocket, relief flooded over me. I offered a heartfelt prayer of gratitude to my Father in Heaven, for I knew that He had answered my prayer.

Illustrated by Shauna Mooney Kawasaki
Wow! What a haul! I love Valentine Day, don’t you?
I guess so.
What’s wrong?
Traci hardly got any valentines. I saw her crying after school.
It’s not your fault. You gave her one.
Yes, but she still thinks nobody likes her.
Heavenly Father does. He loves everybody.
I don’t think Traci knows that.
Why don’t you tell her?
OK! I’ll play with her at recess tomorrow and tell her then. And I’ll make her another valentine.
I’ll tell her that I like her too.

Nearby, at the home of a Polish family named Slovik, Miklaus, or Mike, as his friends call him, helps to scatter clean straw to remind the family of the manger where Christ was born. Straw is everywhere—on the floor, under the white cloth on the table, even in the children’s beds!
Mike keeps peering out the window anxiously, for only when the first star appears may the family sit down to eat their Christmas Eve feast. His mouth waters as he thinks of the twelve-course dinner to come—one course for each Apostle.
After supper the Wise Men will bring gifts, which are sent to them by the stars. At midnight the Sloviks will attend church.
“The star! The star!” Mike shouts at last. As he sits down at the family table, he glances at the extra place that is always set for the Christ Child. Could His spirit really be here this holy night? he wonders.
As we leave the Sloviks and visit the Halversson family, who have recently arrived from Sweden, dusk is gathering. Helga helps to light a candle in each window, an important ceremony in her family. The traditional Swedish Christmas season lasts for a whole month, and Helga and her mother have been busy making cookies, breads, candles, and straw ornaments.
As she helps herself to the different dishes of the smorgasbord, Helga thinks about their farm in Sweden. All the animals there were given extra food on Christmas Eve, and a bowl of rice pudding was always left in the loft for Jultomten, the mischievous elf who guards one’s home. After Jultomten ate his pudding, he would leave gifts for Helga and her family. Tonight Helga will leave Jultomten’s pudding on the table.
In the small room of the Murphys, who immigrated from Ireland, a bright wreath of holly with its shining leaves and red berries makes the walls look cheery. Colleen and her sister, Mary, help set the table, even though they have just finished their dinner. They place a loaf of bread and a pitcher of milk on the clean table, along with a large candle.
The girls’ grandmother smiles at them. “Since you have been blessed with the name Mary, you may light the candle, my dear,” she says. There is a deep hush as Mary solemnly lights the candle.
Colleen, who feels a bit left out for a moment, runs to the door to make sure that it is unlatched. The Christ Child, or any lonely wanderer, might see the Murphys’ lighted candle and know that He/he is welcome in their home for food and friendship.

Trials of faith began for Samuel Hoglund of Sweden when family members raised questions. He went through a phase of “getting one question answered only to come across yet another one,” he explains. “My faith vacillated from one half hour to the next, until I realized this process and my need for certainty were unsustainable.” Instead of trying to resolve every relatively minor question, Samuel decided to study important questions—those critical to a solid foundation in Jesus Christ. Accompanied by prayer and scripture study, Samuel’s search, like Alba’s, taught him how much he still had to learn and brought him to more mature beliefs. “The experience strengthened my faith immensely,” he says, “and also taught me that what you truly seek you will find.”

After his baptism, Ken wanted his parents to know about the gospel. “I doubt that my parents would ever be interested in becoming Latter-day Saints,” he said. After all, his father held a prominent position in his own church.

But when Ken was home on leave, he asked his parents if they would be willing to have the missionaries tell them about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Being the fine, open-minded people they were, they agreed. Later, Ken had the privilege of baptizing and confirming them. They later became temple workers.

Nearly 12 years ago, young friends Richard Moore, Mark Sandridge, and Graham McBride of the Memphis (Tennessee) Second Ward dressed in white as they prepared to make sacred covenants. The three boys were baptized by their fathers in the same baptismal service.
Last year, the three friends again dressed in white to make covenants, this time in the same endowment session of the St. Louis Missouri Temple. Their fathers were once again by their sides, and the session was officiated by Graham’s grandfather, a temple worker.
Although these three young men live many miles from each other now, they continue to dress in white as they baptize others while serving in the California Ventura, Japan Nagoya, and Honduras Tegucigalpa Missions.

Miriam is a native of Brazil. When she wanted to serve a mission, she filled out the papers. Seven weeks later, with her family gathered at home, she read the letter calling her to the Utah Salt Lake City Temple Square Mission. She says, “When I read the letter, it was interesting that my family shouted the same way they do when the national football team of Brazil scores a goal. I was happy as well, and I knew that the Lord was sending me.”

As we got back to the hotel after training, Sister Ihesiene started mentioning names of those that need be interviewed urgently as pioneers or past leaders before they depart mortality. One such name mentioned was brother Matthew Anucha, my first branch president and a pioneer member of what now constitutes Okpuala Ngwa Nigeria Stake and part of Osisioma Nigeria Stake. He brought the Church from Mbaise in 1980 to his village, Amapu, and after years of his great missionary efforts, a branch was officially organized in 1982. He became the first member, priesthood holder and branch president indigenous to the Okpuala Ngwa Nigeria Stake. As a branch president, he would travel weekly from his workplace in Mbaise, about 120 kilometers round trip, to preside over his unit until it became a ward years later.
On contacting the current bishop of the ward, Izuchi David, we learned that Brother Anucha died while we were on our first mission. How devastating to hear that a faithful pioneer who had done so much for the Lord and for His Church was without a recording of his photos, voice, quality experiences and testimony! So many questions remain, such as: Was this pioneer and past leader truly honored as the Lord expected? Was there a pioneer activity in which he was recognized at any time? Did he receive any plaque, medal or a letter of appreciation? Were there Church records of key events, such as the first baptisms, confirmations, ordinations, conferences, chapel dedication and apostolic visitations in the unit? Who were the first organizational leaders that served with Brother Anucha as the first branch president of the then Amapu Branch? Was there anything in the unit or stake annual history that captured his great sacrifices? What could we have done to avert this tragedy?
An African proverb says: “when an old person dies, a library burns to the ground” now makes more sense to us. Indeed, our dear pioneers and past leaders represent living libraries whose experiences, photographs, voices and testimonies we should endeavor to create, preserve and share. This is the cardinal mission of Church history—that the succeeding generations may be persuaded to remain on the covenant path as they come to know, in some personal ways, the consecrated lives of the pioneers and how the Lord blesses the Saints.
We are grateful to the Lord for blessing us with an Area Presidency that prioritizes Church history. As we remember and celebrate those who have made great efforts in building the kingdom of God and the establishment of Zion in our area through our active roles in oral and annual histories, the divine sympathies shall be invoked and power from on high to endure to the end becomes more evident to us.
We know by the witness of the Spirit that the Lord cares for all His servants and commands that we keep them in remembrance. With so great an inheritance from our forebears, we can do no less than our very best in living up to our mandate from the Lord by participating actively in Church history efforts before the next library burns to the ground!

My last two years of high school were hard. I had grand plans of preparing to attend a prestigious college. But that screeched to a halt when I started waking up every day and crying at the thought of going to school. I was soon diagnosed with severe depression and anxiety and encouraged to finish school online at home.
Adjusting to this new reality of remote education and depression felt isolating and soul crushing. While my friends seemed to be thriving and moving forward, I felt like I was being left behind.
So, I coped and escaped from my negative thoughts, emotions, and reality with media use.
Every spare moment, and even moments that weren’t spare, I would watch TV, scroll social media, or play video games—hoping for a never-ending distraction.
For me, behind all these behaviors was escapism—the desire to escape an unpleasant feeling or situation.
As Elder Kelly R. Johnson of the Seventy taught: “Discouragement often leads to distraction, or a lack of focus. Various distractions may lead to a lack of diligence. In our day, there are many distractions, including Twitter, TikTok, Instagram, and busy school and work schedules. Distractions can often be good things. The reality is that a distraction doesn’t have to be evil to be effective.”1
I was definitely trying to distract myself from my reality through media. But over time, after I had seemingly streamed every show—once, twice, even five times—all this media seemed to be losing its luster. My difficult feelings were suddenly catching up with me after I had avoided them for so long.
I had to decide—was this going to be my life? Constantly glued to screens? I didn’t want it to be.
But these habits were so ingrained in me that I felt like it was impossible to change, and I lacked a lot of motivation to do so. However, as I pleaded for help from Heavenly Father, the Spirit reminded me:
The Lord has the power to create lasting change in you.
Sister Rebecca L. Craven, Second Counselor in the Young Women General Presidency, has taught: “Through Jesus Christ, we are given the strength to make lasting changes. As we humbly turn to Him, He will increase our capacity to change.”2
I started making small efforts toward building better habits. Before turning to streaming, I would read the Book of Mormon and ponder a few chapters each day. I worked to magnify my calling. I served others, and I attended every social and Church activity I could. I also found help for my mental health with spiritual and temporal tools. My bishop referred me to a licensed therapist who understood my faith and my struggles; I followed social media accounts that posted about depression, anxiety, and self-care; and I painted my room brighter colors and opened my window more often.
I turned toward Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ through small means every day, praying that They could help me take charge of my circumstances. I felt Their power working through my actions over time. Every day it became easier to step away from my desires to escape through media. I was gaining more optimism for life.
Over time I graduated, moved out, got married, graduated college, and had two kids. New habits replaced my old ones and brought me closer to the Spirit and to the people I loved. I felt like “a new creature” (2 Corinthians 5:17).
However, I still need renewal through Christ. At times, I’m still tempted to lose myself in media. Who isn’t, when there is access to endless amounts of it in our pockets?
However, I now ask myself a few questions before indulging in media as I try to make my media usage more meaningful:
Do I have a purpose for watching or playing right now?
Can I use this media to connect with someone?
If I am trying to escape my feelings, what else can I do to work through my difficult feelings in a healthier way?
All in all, media use is not inherently bad. But we are counseled to be “temperate in all things” (Doctrine and Covenants 12:8). And Christ can help us use media intentionally to grow, to connect with loved ones, to access spiritual materials, to come closer to Him, and to help us tackle our challenges and become better—not just to escape.
I often remind myself of what He has done for me and what He can do again (and again) as I rely on His grace to build better habits. Through Him, we can face our challenges, be refined, and build a better and more meaningful reality.

As a young woman, I had planted myself upside down. My halfhearted efforts at attending church, paying tithing, and having regular prayer and scripture study had slowed my spiritual growth almost to a halt. In high school it became clear that I would need to choose between my current direction and the Lord’s direction. I then decided to replant myself, try my best, and rely on the Lord’s care.
With all my strength I began pushing up toward the Son, working my way past feelings of doubt, anger, insecurity, and selfishness. It wasn’t long before I realized how much Heavenly Father loves me, how much He has blessed me, and how much He wants me to reach my full potential as His daughter. I was given nourishment from Young Women leaders, bishops, seminary teachers, and friends. My righteous desire, however, was not without trials and tears. In His loving mercy, Heavenly Father gave me a push here and there when I felt that I could push no more. He helped me grow from my setbacks and successes. No sunflower, after having sensed the light of the sun, would bury itself back in the ground. I too could sense the light of the Son, and I would no longer hide myself from His goodness and joy. I would “follow the Son, with full purpose of heart” (2 Nephi 31:13).

Not many people have seen the world from the same perspective that Richard Searfoss has. “There are no words to describe the beauty of the planet and the harmony of this place that was created for us,” says Brother Searfoss, pilot of the space shuttle Columbia. “While we were very busy in orbit, I would snatch moments and just gaze out of the window and gather it all in emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. The whole mission was professionally rewarding and spiritually humbling.”
And yet Brother Searfoss, a member of the League City Ward, Friendswood Texas Stake, notes, “While seeing the earth from orbit reinforced what I already believed, it didn’t add anything to it. There’s no need for people to go into space to gain a testimony.”
Brother Searfoss, a lieutenant colonel in the U.S. Air Force, joined six others on the 14-day life-science research mission in October 1993, the longest shuttle orbit to date. As pilot, he was one of the primary crew members during the shuttle’s ascent and entry. While in space, he participated in numerous experiments, both as observer and subject. His duties also included earth observation, engineering tests, and navigational exercises.
Crew members worked 16-hour days and had little free time. However, Brother Searfoss fit a few gravity-free somersaults into his evening schedule along with a regular exercise routine assigned by doctors. He also managed to spend a few minutes every day reading scriptures, usually after breakfast. “We were allowed to carry a few personal items,” Brother Searfoss explains. “Most of us carried pictures; I hung the picture of my wife, Julie, and my daughters, Megan and Elizabeth, over my mid-deck locker. I also had a few of my favorite scriptures printed on cards.
“There were reverent moments up there,” he continues, “moments when my spirit was open to more important things than just day-to-day concerns.”
Brother Searfoss is already anticipating his future assignments. “I’m a career astronaut,” he notes. “I’m looking forward to being up there again.”

During a combined priesthood and Relief Society meeting in 2009, our high priests group leader explained our stake presidency’s desire for every adult to take a family name to the temple within a year. He introduced stake and ward programs to help members achieve that goal. As he concluded, he gave an authoritative promise by virtue of his responsibility for the family history program that if we would try to achieve the stake’s goal, we would succeed.
After the meeting my wife and I discussed the promise and agreed that it could not apply to me; we had already spent 40 years investigating every branch of my family tree. My ancestors were difficult to find, and we had made no significant progress for several years. We believed nothing more could be done. Nevertheless, the group leader’s promise echoed in my mind for the next few days. I decided to take him up on his promise. Staring at my pedigree chart, I tried to think of what I could do.
After three days of careful thought, I felt inspired to look in a specific place for information about one of the end-of-line people on my chart. In less than half a day of research on the Internet, I discovered that another man had researched that family name in an English parish. One of the most recent names he’d located was my end-of-line person. Using his data, I was able to extend my line another five generations—back to 1650—and include the maiden names of several women in my line and the names of several brothers and sisters. My wife and I were stunned and delighted.

When Gerald Lund returned from his missionary service, he had determined that he would rather work than go to college.
“I went to work in the construction business,” he explains. “After spending one week cleaning cement forms with a power brush, I realized this was not how I wanted to spend my life.”
He promptly enrolled in Brigham Young University, where he completed his bachelor’s and master’s degrees. His decision to go to college not only changed his life but also resulted in many years of teaching the gospel.
Gerald Lund started teaching seminary in Salt Lake City in 1965, beginning a 34-year career with the Church Educational System. In addition to his early years teaching seminary, he taught institute, served as an institute director, worked as a curriculum writer, and fulfilled a number of administrative assignments. He is also the author of many popular books and articles.