Gospel Story Finder

A few years ago I woke up one morning to find a text informing me that our stake center was on fire. When I learned from the investigation that it was arson,7 I felt very unsettled, given how much time I usually spent in the building, and I wondered whether or not they would find the arsonist.

One day the Savior’s words came clearly to my mind: “Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you.”8 These words of the Lord softened my heart, and gradually I genuinely began to desire good things for the person responsible for the fire. I felt prompted to ask our stake to pray for this person so that they could also find healing.

Although the person who started the fire has never been identified, I find myself—even today as I speak—still hoping and praying that they have been able to heal and find peace. I learned that the Savior cherishes each of His children. His words changed my heart, brought peace, and gave me strength to turn the matter over to Him.

A scripture that really helped me when I was young is Joshua 1:6–9. It says, in part: “Be strong and of a good courage. … Observe to do according to all the law. … Turn not from it to the right hand or to the left, that thou mayest prosper.”
As a young man, I thought, “Once I receive an assignment from the Lord, I will not turn to the right or to the left.” I had some good experiences as a result. For instance, one day while I was in business training, I had to go to a Church meeting, but I had a work responsibility related to the mail. Normally this responsibility would take me and the other trainees as much as an extra hour after our regular work hours. But I had to go to Hamburg on the 5:30 p.m. train to get to my Church meeting. I told the others of my dilemma, and they said to me, “Good luck. It is not going to happen.”
I said, “Sure it will, because this is an important meeting.” They shrugged their shoulders and said sarcastically, “Yeah sure—you and your faith. You think just because you are religious that everything is going to work out. That means that we would have to finish the mail by 10 minutes to 5:00. It has never happened.” I said, “Well, whatever happens will happen. But I need to be in Hamburg on time tonight.”
Now, believe it or not, for the first and only time in three years, everything was finished that day at 10 minutes to 5:00, and I made it to the train on time. This impressed my fellow trainees and opened the door for me to have some gospel conversations with them.

Dilcia Soto, 16, still remembers the day the temple was dedicated in her hometown of Santo Domingo in the Dominican Republic: “I was only nine then, but I said, ‘Wow! A temple here!’ I was used to seeing people go to other countries to be sealed and to make covenants. I thought, ‘Now my family and I will not have to go to another country because we have our own temple nearby.’”
Today that temple stands majestic and tall in the capital city, so striking with its spire and well-kept grounds that many people passing by assume it must be a cathedral. Dilcia is happy to explain that it is even more sacred than that. On the temple grounds there is a quiet dignity in sharp contrast to the bustling energy of the streets and markets downtown.
It is to this place of peace that Dilcia and her friend Kelsia St. Gardien, 14, came not long ago. Both are members of the Mirador Ward of the Santo Domingo Dominican Republic Independencia Stake. Both have been to the temple before to do baptisms for the dead. But on this day they came simply to walk in the gardens, to talk, and to feel from outside the building the Spirit that the temple carries within.
“I have an immense love for the Lord, and I am so grateful for what He has done in my life,” Dilcia says. “My immediate family are members of the Church, but my aunts, uncles, and cousins are not. When they come to my house, I always have a Book of Mormon ready because there might be an opportunity to share the gospel with them.” She also shares the gospel with friends and “with any person I might meet who is truly interested.” And every time she does, she says, “I feel the Spirit so strongly. Every time I share my testimony, I feel the truthfulness of the Church all over again.”
She remembers a seminary lesson about the plan of salvation. “Before this world was, we were in a great Council in Heaven, and we chose to follow our Heavenly Father and accept the sacrifice that Jesus Christ would make on our behalf,” she says. “Our teacher explained that we could tell we obeyed Heavenly Father then because we are here on earth now with bodies of flesh and bones. When he said that, I knew it was true. That night in my prayers, I cried and gave thanks to God for that knowledge.”
Dilcia quotes 1 Corinthians 3:16: “Know ye not that ye are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you?” “If I am also a temple,” she says, “I need to be as clean and beautiful as the temple. What a marvelous blessing it is to be in this Church and to be a virtuous young woman!”
She says her greatest desire is to live with her Heavenly Father again someday. “I am so grateful that He has given us the temple so that we can do all we need to do to return to Him,” she says. “The best form of thanking Him is to live the way He asks us to live.”
Dilcia says, “The Lord wants us to enter His house, to learn about Him, and to work our way toward eternity with Him.” She says she enjoys participating in baptisms for the dead because “it is a way to help those who are waiting on the other side of the veil, to do something for them that they cannot do for themselves.”
Kelsia agrees. “Our ancestors need us to do the work, and I know they are going to be grateful to us,” she says. “In particular I am looking forward to seeing my grandmother whom I never got to know in this life. We are going to make sure all her temple work is done for her.”
Talking about the temple brings out strong emotions for Kelsia. “I am committed to making decisions that will help me to be sealed to my family,” she says. “We have to respect the gospel and observe the commandments al pie de la letra [to the letter of the law],” she says. “We do it because we love our Heavenly Father, and obedience is how we show our gratitude to Him.”
Her family joined the Church in December 2006, six years after her parents moved to the Dominican Republic from Haiti. “I’m so grateful for the missionaries who knocked on our door. It was great to feel the Spirit and to learn about Heavenly Father’s plan for us. Since the gospel came into our lives, our family is much closer. I am grateful that He gave me a family that is so united, even in the most difficult moments. To think that we can have the privilege of being sealed eternally seems like one of the greatest blessings of all.”
Her parents are taking a temple-preparation class right now, and that reminds her to prepare for the day when she will be married in the temple. “That is my main goal, that my future husband and I will be worthy for each other and worthy to be an eternal family.”
The two friends walk past the pole where the flag of their nation unfurls in a gusting breeze. “Even the flag at the temple reminds us to be faithful,” Dilcia says. “It is more than just colors. It contains the motto Dios, patria, libertad [God, country, liberty] and shows a Christian cross and the Bible. It reminds us that our country was founded by people who believed in God and that God is still important here.”
They also walk past the entrance to the temple, where the words Santidad al Señor, la Casa del Señor (Holiness to the Lord, the House of the Lord) are inscribed above the doorway, as they are at every temple.
“Whenever I read those words, I am filled with a powerful witness that they are true,” Dilcia says. “I remember coming here with our Mutual group one evening, just to visit the grounds. After we were done, the bishop asked us what we felt here. We talked about it and came up with a one-word answer: peace.”
And Kelsia and Dilcia walk away thinking of that perfect one-word answer … perfect because the temple is the place of peace.

The parents of many of these youth are not members of the Church, but they have allowed their children to be baptized. Recently, I met with one of the parents. He wanted to know more about the Church his son was attending.
“I’ve seen a lot of change in my son,” he said. “He’s a different person. He’s obedient and nice at home. I want to find out why.”
This father came to church and saw for himself that the Savior’s teachings and restored gospel were what had changed his son’s behavior. “Now I know that where my son goes is a nice place,” he said afterward. “I will allow others to come too.”

Christl Fechter moved to another country after war tore apart her homeland. She didn’t speak the language well and didn’t know anyone in her new neighborhood, so at first she felt isolated and alone.

As a member of the Church, she summoned her courage and began attending her new ward. She worried that her thick accent would keep people from wanting to talk to her or that she would be judged for being a single woman.

But she met others who overlooked her differences and welcomed her into their community of friends. They reached out in love, and she soon found herself busy helping teach a Primary class. The children were great examples of acceptance, and the feeling of being loved and needed strengthened her faith and helped rekindle her lifelong devotion to the Lord.

On Thursday of that week, members of the Relief Society presidency visited to introduce themselves and welcome our parents to the ward. On Sunday the bishop came to meet them and inquire whether they needed anything. He spent almost an hour with them, genuinely getting to know them and asking if they’d be willing to take ministering assignments.
Within two weeks of their arrival, they had ministering brothers and sisters assigned to them and were contacted by both. They also received ministering assignments and were introduced to their assigned families. Even with Mom’s late-stage dementia, her ministering companion made the effort to invite her and bring her along as they visited the sisters they were assigned to. The ministering brothers were consistent, loving, and genuine. They immediately found a commonality with roots from Wyoming, and my parents felt loved from the first visit.

Another new member is Rocío Flores Rojas, 15. “Elder and Sister de la Cruz taught and baptized my mother,” she says. “At first I didn’t want to be baptized. But they kept coming and talking to me about the word of God. And they treated me so well—like they do all the people. I came to know that their message was true and was baptized last Sunday. More than anything, we would like them to stay with us forever. But when they have completed their mission, they have a right to return to their family.”

Let me share with you one of my favorite and true love stories. I learned about the story very late in its development. One night I went with my husband to a company dinner party. I sat next to an older man who was there with his wife. She had suffered a stroke, so he would lean over to cut her meat and help her with her food. His manner was very tender and caring. As he finished the meal, I said to him, “You are so good to your wife.”

His reply: “Why shouldn’t I be? I love her.” Then he told me about their courtship and their life together. “The first time I saw her,” he said, “was at a party in Canada. She was giving a reading. She had long golden curls and wore a beautiful white eyelet dress with a pretty blue satin sash. I was so impressed by her that I told my mother that that was the woman I was going to marry. Mother laughingly indulged me. I went on my mission, and when I came home she was engaged to another. I was asked to take a special assignment by the bishop, and when I protested he told me that if I would always put the work of the Lord first I would find that the Lord would always take care of me. I made the long trek to Salt Lake City. When I came home, she had broken her engagement. We started to date, and then we married.”

His wife rarely accompanied him in public after that dinner. It wasn’t long until her condition worsened, and she was completely bedridden and virtually unable to speak. He was a General Authority and went out on his regular conference assignments to visit and counsel the Saints. He would always come home and tell her all about the conference. One day as he finished, he teased, “If you are not going to speak back to me, then I am not going to tell about my experiences. You must not love me anymore.” Tears welled up in her eyes, and with great effort she found enough strength to form the words, “I do love you.” It was difficult and extremely slow, but with great effort she got the words out. He decided he would never again treat their love lightly, for their love went beyond even her crippling physical impairment.

At the funeral of this special woman, Zina Card Brown, every speaker commented on her love both for her sweetheart, President Hugh B. Brown. President Marion G. Romney said, “Wherever she was she was a loving lady.” President N. Eldon Tanner declared that President Brown was so successful because of her love. President Kimball said that the love of President and Sister Brown was such that they would soon be together again everlastingly. Her love pulled them toward immortality—a beginning of eternity.

I had gained a testimony of the goodness of one seed of faith, but I had yet to see it grow to fruition (see Alma 32:35–36), and I had not yet received a confirming witness of other gospel principles. My trial of faith was not yet over.
Not long after I was baptized and confirmed, doubts crept into my mind. I felt conflicted between the very personal experience I had had when deciding to get baptized and my old logic, which did not accept faith-based knowledge.
Soon I again felt the haunting feelings of confusion and sorrow, and I did not know what to believe. Nevertheless, I had made a commitment, and I determined to remain active in the Church and apply the principles I had been taught until the trial of my faith resolved my conflict one way or another.
The Lord did not leave me to wander alone. I was given a calling to serve with the missionaries, and as we went proselytizing each week, the missionaries continued to shepherd me. My home teachers were faithful. My home teaching companion was prompt and consistent. Many ward members developed friendships with me by involving me in their lives, inviting me into their homes for dinners and for family home evenings. They prayed with and for me. The bishop and his family cared for and encouraged me. I could sense the honest intentions of their hearts, and that strengthened my resolve.
One day, some months later, it dawned on me that every time I read the Book of Mormon, I felt a subtle, familiar feeling of peace, much as I had felt during the discussions and baptismal invitations. I had a sudden moment of clarity: this was the Spirit. As I thought the words—“If this is the Spirit, then this book must be true”—that subtle feeling swelled in my heart, and my faith turned to spiritual knowledge of that principle.

We need to make our homes a place of refuge from the storm, which is increasing in intensity all about us. Even if the smallest openings are left unattended, negative influences can penetrate the very walls of our homes. Let me cite an example.

Several years ago I was having dinner with my daughter and her family. The scene is all too common in most homes with small children. My daughter was trying to encourage her young, three-year-old son to eat a balanced meal. He had eaten all the food on his plate that he liked. A small serving of green beans remained, which he was not fond of. In desperation, the mother picked up a fork and tried to encourage him to eat his beans. He tolerated it just about as long as he could. Then he exclaimed, “Look, Mom, don’t foul up a good friendship!”

Those were the exact words he heard on a television commercial a few days earlier. Oh, what impact advertising, television programs, the Internet, and the other media are having on our family units!

Flying is what Kathryn Young wants to do. To take the controls of a machine that can carry you above the clouds. To speed through the skies, dipping and looping above the jagged hills below. Yes, flying is what Kathryn wants to do.
And if Kathryn’s grandmother, Ethelyn Sowards, were still here, she would be cheering her granddaughter on. After all, flying is a tradition for the girls in her family. Kathryn’s grandmother was one of an elite corps of women pilots who served their country during World War II. They were not allowed in combat. But those women fliers were invaluable as pilots who moved planes from the factories to the air force bases or moved planes from base to base as needed.
Kathryn Young of the Manhattan Second Ward has been accepted as a cadet in the Air Force Academy in Fort Collins, Colorado. “My grandmother died when I was six, but I always heard about her flying.” There were stories about her grandmother’s flying ability, like the contests in the skies over the Texas cotton fields. Kathryn’s grandmother won most of the time.
Kathryn’s grandmother is an inspiration to her. She stayed home and raised her children and taught them the gospel. “I feel like she was ahead of her time. I’m the first person in my school to have applied to the Air Force Academy, let alone go. In that way, I may be like my grandmother.” Just knowing that her grandmother was a woman of faith, a wonderful mother and grandmother, and a great pilot lets Kathryn know that she can set her goals high and make them come true. Her grandmother did; so can she.

A second lesson was taught by the New York firefighters and policemen who put duty before life. As the occupants of the towers were coming down the stairwells, they met the firemen going up. A new set of heroes was born. Recently an eight-year-old boy was leaving Shea Stadium in New York after a Mets baseball game. As he was crossing the street, he saw a police officer directing traffic. The boy approached him and asked the officer if he would sign his baseball glove.

The policeman looked at the young boy and said, “Don’t you want a ballplayer’s autograph? Why a cop’s?”

The boy answered, “Because you saved the world.”

There is a greater respect and awareness today for those civil servants who risk their lives in the course of duty.

Oh, New Era, this article was the best. “They’re Not Really Happy” by Elder Glenn L. Pace in the June 1988 issue really hit home for me. Just the other day I was with some friends of mine. They are not members, and often “party hardy.”
Well, we were in the mall, and we were all trying on clothes. It was really fun, but as we were leaving they were laughing. I asked them what happened, and then they showed me. One of them had stolen three shirts, and another had taken a dress and some shorts. My face turned bright red, and I went into a silence. I wanted to go back, but I didn’t because I thought they should and I was scared. Anyway, on the way home they were showing me everything, and they were smoking and talking about the guys they were going to go out with. For the first time I was mad because I was Mormon. When I got home I was ashamed of myself for not doing something, anything. Then I received the June New Era and I saw “They’re Not Really Happy.” Well, it really helped me. I just wanted to thank all y’all who go to the trouble of caring about the youth. I appreciate the article also because it mentioned how pretty girls are when they have a blush in the cheek. Thanks, thanks, and again thanks. It’s hard to be a 17-year-old and keep Christlike morals and standards. Innocence is beautiful, and I’m thankful that others realize it also.
Beth BrownColfax, North Carolina

A mother of four knelt with her family around their kitchen table and prayed for help in paying their assessment. That evening she received a phone call from a neighbor lady, asking if she would tend her small children on a regular basis. Some six weeks earlier the sister’s offer to tend these same children had been refused because her fee was too high. The neighbor explained that she had been strongly impressed that afternoon that this sister would provide the most loving care of any person she had considered, and this was worth whatever fee the member wanted to charge.

Let me read you a letter from a very ­righteous woman who recently experienced a ­tragedy in her marriage that was not of her doing. She wrote:

I had a beautiful experience in the temple this morning. My husband and I usually went to the temple each year on our anniversary. I decided a week ago that it might be good for my emotional recovery to go to the temple even though, of course, he would not be with me on this day that we should have celebrated our twentieth anniversary.

For the past two years I have researched and done the ordinances for a family. In a miraculous series of events, around the time I first became involved in family history (after everything happened with my husband), I found a brother of my great-great-great-grandmother . . . was missing from the family tree and had not had his temple work completed and had not been sealed to his parents although my grandfather had had the rest of the family’s work completed years ago.

I asked my brother-in-law to do his temple work, and then I did the work for his wife. When I was completing the initiatory work, I felt her presence so strongly, and in my mind I heard her say the words “find my family,” with the implied message to complete their temple work. Through researching I would discover that she had seven sons! Two had had their temple work done by others, but I was able to submit the information for the other five sons and their wives. My 17-year-old son did the baptisms for the sons, my brother-in-law did the initiatories, and my missionary son and his fellow missionaries did the endowments. My teenage daughter and I completed the ordinances for the sons’ wives.

Even though all the preliminary ordinances had been done, because of my own marriage situation I had not wanted to go to the temple to participate in the sealings for this family. It was too painful. However, as time passed I have found that in the last few months I have been doing better and have been thinking about it. During the last few weeks especially, I have felt compelled to complete the sealings for this family. The work that needed to be done included sealing the woman whose words “find my family” had made such an impression on me as well as her two younger sisters to their parents.

So I made the decision I would go today, a day I celebrated my own wedding anniversary for so many years. I was very nervous, but I took courage. I have never done sealings in the temple without my husband, so this was really a new experience for me . . . , but the reality is that it is now necessary for me to do many things requiring faith that I have never done before alone.

I felt very grateful for a kind and compassionate sealer in the temple today . . . , and one of the other men in the session was our stake patriarch, who gave my son his patriarchal blessing. I don’t think he recognized me, but having him there put me at ease. The temple workers were very nice to me, and I really appreciated it because (unknown to them) I was very nervous. I am sure the Lord knew how I felt.

Somewhat surprising to me, I deeply appreciated the time of sitting in the sealing room waiting for my turn and thinking about the blessings in the sealing ordinance as they were repeated over and over again. I participated in the last sealing of the session, acting as proxy for my great-great-great-great grandmother with her husband, as their son, Benjamin, missing from the family for so many years, was now sealed to them. I felt an overwhelming and unexpected feeling that they were there. It was a beautiful testament to me of the power of eternal families as, first, their son was sealed to them and then I acted as proxy for the woman whose words “find my family” had touched me so much, and our stake patriarch was proxy for the couple’s five sons. They were then sealed, linking this family together. It was truly an amazing experience.

Afterward I went to the celestial room . . . and had a few minutes to ponder on eternity alone—or maybe not alone—as I read 2 Kings 6:16, which speaks of unseen heavenly hosts that are at times “with us.” I felt that feeling today in the temple.

On a hard day, I was not expecting this, but I’m sure it was a special blessing for me and another assurance in my life that I can move forward. . . . I felt very blessed today in the temple! It gives me hope for happy days ahead.21

At one privately owned and operated care facility, compassion reigned supreme. The proprietress was Edna Hewlett. There was a waiting list of patients who desired to live out their remaining days under her tender care, for she was an angelic person. She would wash and style the hair of every patient. She cleansed elderly bodies and dressed them with bright and clean clothing.
Through the years, in visiting the widows of the ward over which I once presided, I would generally start my visits at Edna’s facility. She would welcome me with a cheery smile and take me to the living room where a number of the patients were seated.
I always had to begin with Jeannie Burt, who was the oldest—102 when she died. She had known me and my family from the time I was born.
On one occasion Jeannie asked with her thick Scottish brogue, “Tommy, have you been to Edinburgh lately?”
I replied, “Yes, not too long ago I was there.”
“Isn’t it beautiful!” she responded.
Jeannie closed her aged eyes in an expression of silent reverie. Then she became serious. “I’ve paid in advance for my funeral—in cash. You are to speak at my funeral, and you are to recite ‘Crossing the Bar’ by Tennyson. Now let’s hear it!”
It seemed every eye was upon me, and surely this was the case. I took a deep breath and began:
Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea.11
Jeannie’s smile was benign and heavenly—then she declared, “Oh, Tommy, that was nice. But see that you practice a wee bit before my funeral!” This I did.

Another “home front” soldier for the Lord is a taxi driver. In his cab hangs a sign which reads, “I Care.” Most passengers ask “What do you care about?” This good brother then explains that he belongs to a church that cares about people. If his passengers inquire further he accommodates their interest by handing them a copy of the Book of Mormon from the supply of copies he conveniently keeps by his driver’s seat. This faithful member has participated in the conversion of more than 200 souls.

In August 2020, my wife, Jacqui, and I briefly returned from Africa to Salt Lake City, where I had the unexpected blessing of joining President Russell M. Nelson for lunch. I told him how intimidating it was for me to sit next to the prophet of the whole world.

With a gentle smile, he said, “Just eat your soup. You will get over it.”

At the time, the COVID-19 pandemic was causing real fear and suffering in the countries where we were serving, so I asked, “President Nelson, very soon I will be returning to our beloved brothers and sisters on the African continent. Is there a personal message you would want me to share?”

He paused thoughtfully and then gave this profound answer: “Tell them that some things are out of our control, so we should focus on those things that we can control—specifically on how we live our lives. We need to live our lives in such a way that we are always ready to meet our Maker.”

I want to share with you an experience I had this summer. I spent three days in a wilderness camp with 150 youth. We did a lot of hiking and had some hard physical challenges like when we rappelled down an eighty-foot cliff. On the last day we were given instructions to go into the woods alone. Before leaving the group, each youth was given a letter from home which had been written by his or her mother or father for this occasion.
When I went out alone, I took my scriptures with me. I read about my Father in Heaven’s love for all of us and for me. It was then that I realized that these scriptures are like letters from home.
After a time we gathered together. Everyone had opened and read his or her letter. One young woman stood expressing the feelings of her heart. She held her letter close. In her words, “I nearly bawled my face off when I sat there alone and realized how much my mom and dad love me.” I nearly bawled my face off when I read again about how very much our Father in Heaven loves us.
Can you imagine being away from home and receiving a letter from your parents and not bothering to open it or read it? This is what happens when we don’t read these precious records. The holy scriptures are like letters from home telling us how we can draw near to our Father in Heaven. He tells us to come as we are. No one will be denied. He loves everyone. (See 3 Ne. 9:14, 17–18.)

During the high adventures of home life we also need to return to remembrance of past sunshine. I was turning off the lights late one night in preparation for bed when I heard laughter coming from our teenage girls’ bedroom. As I entered, I discovered the source of their merriment. Their mother had allowed them to read her old diary, and they were now on the pages detailing her fifteenth year. They were full of questions for me: “What did you think when you and Mom first met?” “Why did Mom write like that?”
She had written of watching from her upstairs window while I rode past on my horse, and of seeing me at church. She had saved the coin she won from me when a group of us flipped pennies. With my daughters, I recalled meeting and dating the girl who would become my wife. I could see her standing under the big willow trees in front of her house—the blue jeans, the bare feet, the teasing smile. I remembered hollering and jumping when the toad she put down my neck began to squirm.
Emotions jumped out of that too-long-closed treasure. I fell in love with my wife all over again as I described to the girls how she looked with moonlight reflecting off snowflakes in her hair the night a group of us went sledding. It wasn’t frostbite I felt in my fingers as I held her hand to help her up a hill.
On the night we read my wife’s little diary, my daughters and I made a withdrawal and filled our love banks. The girls knew their parents were young once. They knew I loved their mother. And I think that helped them feel secure. I kissed them good night and went upstairs to find their sleeping mother. I gently woke her and told her how pretty she was—and how pretty she is. I told her of my love for her and of my appreciation for our years together.
Laughing, she felt my forehead. “Have you been dreaming?”
“Kind of,” I said. “I’ve been feeling sunshine.”