Gospel Story Finder

I know how real the hooks of mortality can be. One Sunday, as a new convert, I was teaching a priesthood class when an unsettling conversation arose. I struggled to finish my lesson. I took offense and felt that I was the victim. Without saying a word, I headed for the exit with the idea that I would not return to church for a while.
At that very moment, a concerned priesthood holder stood in front of me. He lovingly invited me to focus on Christ and not on the situation we had experienced in class. As I looked back on the experience with him, he shared with me that he heard a voice tell him, “Go after him; he is important to me.”
My dear friends, we are all important to Him. President Nelson taught that “because of our covenant with God, He will never tire in His efforts to help us, and we will never exhaust His merciful patience with us.” Our divine nature and covenant relationship with God entitle us to receive divine help.

We sing, “Sacrifice brings forth the blessings of heaven” (“Praise to the Man,” Hymns, number 27). This is a true principle. Let me illustrate with a personal experience.
I was named bishop of a suburban Salt Lake City ward in 1958, in the days when local members paid 50 percent of the cost of constructing a building. One of the most important leadership experiences in my life came several weeks before the dedication of our building. Our ward of young families, struggling to make ends meet, still needed to raise U.S. $30,000. I fasted and prayed to know what I should say to them regarding this obligation. We already had pressed them very hard.
As the brethren gathered for priesthood meeting, I was impressed to read to them the testimony that Elder Melvin J. Ballard, my grandfather, bore when he was ordained to the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles on 7 January 1919. I quote a small portion recounting his experience in 1917 when he had sought the Lord pleadingly in a situation where there were no precedents for guidance:
“That night I received a wonderful manifestation and impression which has never left me. I was carried to this place—into this room. I saw myself here with you. I was told there was another privilege that was to be mine; and I was led into a room where I was informed I was to meet someone. As I entered the room I saw, seated on a raised platform, the most glorious being I have ever conceived of, and was taken forward to be introduced to Him. As I approached He smiled, called my name, and stretched out His hands toward me. … He put His arms around me and kissed me, as He took me into His bosom, and He blessed me until my whole being was thrilled. As He finished I fell at His feet, and there saw the marks of the nails; and as I kissed them, with deep joy swelling through my whole being, I felt that I was in heaven indeed. The feeling that came to my heart then was: Oh! If I could live worthy … so that in the end when I have finished I could go into His presence and receive the feeling that I then had in His presence, I would give everything that I am and ever hope to be!” (Melvin R. Ballard, Melvin J. Ballard: Crusader for Righteousness [1966], 66).
The Spirit of the Lord touched the hearts of the faithful brethren in my ward’s priesthood meeting that day. We all knew that with greater faith in Jesus Christ, our Savior and Redeemer, we could reach our goal. During that same day, family after family came to my office with money, making personal sacrifices that were far beyond what I, the bishop, would ever have asked of them. By eight o’clock Sunday evening, the ward clerk had written receipts for a little more than $30,000.
Sacrifice truly brought forth the blessings of heaven to the members of our ward. Never have I lived among a people who were more united, more caring, more concerned for one another than those members. In our greatest sacrifice, we became bonded together in the true spirit of the gospel of love and service.

Many years ago in Adelaide, Australia, a young mother, Sister Pat Hedger, was widowed at the age of 28--left to raise 3 young children. Pat was employed as an office assistant for the South Australia Police Department and was struggling with the death of her husband. A lady in the office knew of Pat's situation. She asked Pat if she had ever prayed for help. Pat had grown up in a home that was not necessarily active in their religion and had never learned to pray. Pat's friend taught her how to offer a simple prayer and to ask for comfort. Pat found comfort in prayer. A simple prayer softened her heart and prepared her to accept the gospel.

About eight years after Pat had learned to pray, my companion and I knocked on her door. She was busy, so we left her a copy of the Book of Mormon and set up a return appointment. When we returned to teach Pat she related her story to us. As we taught her the first discussion, we shared the Joseph Smith story with her and she related her personal experience with prayer. We asked Pat if she would offer a prayer before we left her home that night. She accepted and offered a very simple but sincere prayer. We set another appointment for the following evening to share the plan of salvation. Because of that simple prayer she offered years before she was prepared to recognize the truth of the Book of Mormon, she was baptized a week later. Pat's two sons were baptized the following month and her daughter was baptized several months later.

Because of a simple prayer, a family was prepared to accept the gospel. Since that time Pat served in many callings, her sons Brenton and Darrell served missions, and her daughter Julie has served in the Young Women and many other callings faithfully. About seven years ago I received an email from Pat's son, Brenton. He had just been called to serve as a bishop and now serves on the Adelaide North Stake High Council. Through a simple prayer a young family was prepared to hear and accept the gospel and now has the opportunity for eternal life. The Hedger family continues to serve and loves the Lord because of a mother's simple prayer in a time of need.

George Q. Cannon became a very associate of President Brigham Young. President Young recognized in his younger friend someone who was intelligent, wise, and totally committed to the work of the kingdom. During Brother Brigham's final illness in 1877, George Q. Cannon was by his side giving comfort. He watched as Brigham Young, that great servant of the Lord, breathed his last breath and passed to the other side of the veil.

After the funeral, some people began to complain about Brigham Young. Now that he was gone, they felt free to talk about his faults and wrong decisions. George Q. Cannon refused to join in the chorus of criticism.

Here is what he wrote in his diary: "The thought ever with me was: If I criticize or find fault with, or judge Brother Brigham, how far shall I go? If I commence where shall I stop? I dared not to trust myself in such a course. I knew that apostasy frequently resulted from the indulgence of the spirit of criticizing and fault-finding." George Q. Cannon recognized the dangers of the slippery slope.

I learned to avoid the spirit of criticizing and fault finding.

President J. Reuben Clark, Jr., was a man of like integrity. As a young man he presided for a short time over the Southern Branch of the State Normal College in Cedar City, Utah. He developed a great interest in that institution.
“Two years later … his help was solicited to give encouragement to members of the legislature to provide the funds which had been requested by the institution.”
Responding by letter he “explained in utter frankness and candor that he could not support the … request” for $100,000.
“‘… Frankly and freely,’ he said, ‘I believe you are asking too much. …
“‘… I have thought the matter over very carefully, and have not been able to see my way clear to honestly recommend to your representatives the appropriation … you ask. …
“‘If you would say that you will drop the $100,000 and work for the $54,000 you may count on my active cooperation to the very limit of my poor ability; but if you still reach after the larger amount, you will at once see it will be better if I keep quiet; and I promise you that I shall do that.’
“The frankness in this letter was to become a distinguishing characteristic of [President] Clark’s correspondence and dealings with men throughout his long career. Although his recommendations many times did not contain what others had hoped to receive, nonetheless his candor and complete honesty contributed greatly to men’s confidence in him for they knew they could depend upon him to say what he really thought.” (David H. Yarn, Jr., Young Reuben, Brigham Young University Press, Provo, Utah, pp. 113–14.)

Recently I awoke from a most disturbing dream. I ached physically, was saturated with perspiration, and my heart was pounding. Every sense was sharpened. The transition from sleep to wakefulness was imperceptible. I have come to recognize that as an indication of a significant spiritual experience in a dream. I had been taught lessons that would change my life. Although the actual dream was extensive, the key lessons communicated can be summarized by reference to a few specific experiences in the dream.

In it I found myself in a very different and unknown environment. Everything was strange to me. I could not recognize where I was or any of the individuals who surrounded me. I was anxiously seeking my wife, Jeanene. We had been separated, and I wanted very much to find her. Each individual I encountered said that I would not be able to do that. Repeatedly as I sought in different directions to find her, I was emphatically told to forget her for she would not be found. I was frustrated at every turn. One said, “She is no longer the same individual. There isn’t a Jeanene like you knew.”

I thought, that is impossible. I know her, and I know she will never change.

Then I was told, “You are not the same. There is no individual by the name of Richard Scott, and soon all of the memories you’ve had of Jeanene, your children, and other loved ones will be eradicated.”

Fear entered my heart, accompanied by a horrifying feeling. Then came the thought: “No, that is impossible. Those relationships are enduring and unchanging. As long as we live righteously, they cannot be eliminated. They are eternally fixed.”

As more encounters came I realized that I was surrounded with evil individuals who were completely unhappy, with no purpose save that of frustrating the happiness of others so that they too would become miserable. These wicked ones were striving to manipulate those persons over whom they sought to exercise control. I somehow was conscious that those who believed their lies were being led through treachery and deceit from what they wanted most. They soon began to believe that their individuality, their experience, and their relationships as families and friends were being altered and lost. They became angry, aggressive, and engulfed by feelings of hopelessness.

The pressure became more intense to accept as reality that what I had been no longer existed and that my cherished wife was no longer the same. Should I encounter her she wouldn’t recognize me nor want me. I resisted those thoughts with every capacity that I could find. I was determined to find her. I knew that there must be a way and was resolute in searching no matter what the cost in time or effort.

It was then that I broke out of that oppressive surrounding and could see that it was an ugly, artificial, contrived environment. So intense were the feelings generated by what I had been told by those bent on destroying my hope to take me captive that I had not realized the forces of opposition that made my efforts appear fruitless could have no power over me unless I yielded through fear or abandonment of my principles. The environment appeared real, yet it had been generated from fear and threat. Although it was simulated, to those who let themselves believe the falsehoods thrust upon them it became reality.

I can now understand that because of my faith in the truths of the gospel plan, I could break through Satan’s manipulative, evil environment to see it as it is—not only in the dream, but in real life as well—a confining, controlling, destructive influence that can be overcome by faith in and obedience to truth. Others were disheartened, disoriented, and finally overcome as they lost hope because they either lacked a foundation of truth to engender conviction, courage, and confidence or they let their belief be overcome by the pressure of the moment.

As I awoke there flooded over me feelings of love and gratitude for our Heavenly Father and his Beloved Son that I do not have the capacity to express. My heart and mind filled with consuming love for them and inexpressible appreciation for the blessings that are available to every spiritual child of Father in Heaven willing to believe and be obedient to the plan of happiness. I cannot convey the unspeakable joy, the feeling of being wrapped in pure love, the absolute assurance that we will never lose our identity or memory of cherished relationships or the benefits of righteous acts as we continue to resist evil and are obedient to truth.

I had decided to follow my dad’s advice and not play intercollegiate sports in college. Then our high school football coach informed me that the Stanford football coach wanted to have lunch with Merlin Olsen and me. Those of you who are younger may not know Merlin. He was an incredible all-American tackle on the Logan High School football team where I played quarterback and safety and returned kickoffs and punts. In high school Merlin was recruited by most football powers across the nation. In college he won the Outland Trophy as the nation’s best interior lineman. Merlin was ultimately the third overall pick in the National Football League draft and played in an amazing 14 consecutive Pro Bowls. He was inducted into the Pro Football Hall of Fame in 1982.
The lunch with the Stanford coach was at the Bluebird restaurant in Logan, Utah. After we shook hands, he never once made eye contact with me. He talked directly to Merlin but ignored me. At the end of the lunch, for the first time, he turned toward me, but he could not remember my name. He then informed Merlin, “If you choose Stanford and want to bring your friend with you, he has good enough grades and it could probably be arranged.” This experience confirmed for me that I should follow my dad’s wise counsel.

You may know that before one is considered for employment at BYU, or at any other Church institution, an interview with a General Authority is required. Not long ago I interviewed a very brilliant individual for a position at BYU. His training was in a discipline that could possibly pose some challenge to his testimony. I asked him whether he had ever wavered in his faith or whether he had, in the course of his study, ever lost his testimony. He answered the question very candidly and told me, yes, he had. His integrity was impressive. I asked him how he had overcome the challenge. The answer was very simple. He said, “I went back to my missionary journals and read them in order to rediscover what I once knew to be true.”

Her last acts were so typical of her. She was up preparing breakfast for her family. I heard her drop a dish and give a little moan. As I rushed from my study, thinking she had injured herself, I found that she was suffering from a stroke that was causing her to lose the use of her right arm. I quickly picked her up and carried her in to a little couch I had just recently convinced her that she should have near her kitchen so she could rest during the day.
There was terror in her eyes as the paralysis started to spread down her side. I told her I was going to rush a call to the doctor. She said, “First, give me a blessing.” As I laid my hands on her head that morning, the Lord in his great mercy let me know that her time had come. As I left the room to call the doctor after that blessing, she was literally fighting to move her right arm and her right leg. And the last words I heard her utter were, “I will not live as a half a person.”
Her next two hours, her last in mortality, were the only two I know of in her life that she was not carrying her full load and a little extra for someone else. The Lord in his mercy has let her pass through the veil and relieved her from her anxiety and pain. Now she is whole again, and I am certain paradise is a much more joyful place because she is there.

That night she helps her mom fold towels and asks her, “Why is Dad always so happy? Hasn’t he ever experienced anything really hard?”
Her mom stops folding and looks at the towel she is smoothing. “Oh, he’s had some hard times. Maybe you’ve forgotten. Your dad’s mother—your grandma—died when he was 12. That was really hard. He lost the first business he started. Then he was diagnosed with a liver disease and diabetes all in the same year.” She pauses, begins to lift a stack of towels, puts them down, and continues. “He was sent to fight in Vietnam when he was 19. He’s told me some about that, but I know he hasn’t told me everything. His brother was killed there. That was probably the hardest for him; he used to wake up with nightmares.”
Amy doesn’t say a word. The rest of the weekend she hardly says anything at all until her research is finished. On Sunday her dad asks her to sit down and make a report to him.
“Dad, terrible things happened to Christ, but he spent his time lifting others. And there are others who were like that too. They did terrible things to Joseph Smith and his family, but even though he had the right to be really miserable he still found time to arm wrestle and play with the kids and things like that.”
“So, did you learn from your research that it’s okay to be a happy person?”
“It’s more than okay. I think Heavenly Father wants us to find joy in our lives while we’re here. Maybe it’s like a skill. If we learn it here we’ll be better at it in eternity.”
He smiles. “So your research really helped.”
“Actually, I think I learned the most from example. There’s this man, you see, and he’s had some hard things happen to him. But he likes to get up early every morning and go to the flower mart, he listens to corny comedy on the radio, and he’s been teaching me all along that being happy is an important skill.”
Her dad isn’t smiling anymore. She doesn’t remember ever seeing him look this serious. “We have our agency,” he says. “We choose how to react to the hard things in life. We can grow and have gratitude for our blessings, or we can be miserable and stagnate.”
“Dad, will you lighten up!”
“Here, let’s give these to your mom.” He takes an armload of wilted flowers from a large grocery bag, and the two of them carry the gift. Amy fully breathes in their fragrance.

When he served in the Tampa Florida Mission, he shared the Book of Mormon with everyone he taught. Missionary work also taught Elder Alvarado key lessons of obedience that serve him well to this day.
He knew little English growing up, so it was thrilling to receive an English-speaking missionary assignment. But just weeks after arriving in Florida, mission president G. Vern Albright told him he was assigning him to a Spanish-speaking area. It was frustrating news.
“But President Albright told me, ‘Elder, I’ll make you a promise: if you work in Spanish [areas], you will have opportunities to use English—and you will always be successful in your jobs and in the Church’.”
The new missionary chose to trust his priesthood leader. “And following my mission, all of my work and Church callings have been in English. It’s been a great blessing.”

For example, last October my grandpa passed away. He had been sick with diabetes for a long time. His was the first funeral of a family member I’d been to, and it was a very sad time for my family and me. Being among all of my relatives during the funeral and knowing we would see Grandpa again strengthened my testimony that families are extremely important and play a key part in Heavenly Father’s plan. I know that because my mom and dad were sealed in the temple, our family can live together forever. I am so thankful for their choice.

I am a new member of the Church as of February 26, 1977. I was first taught the gospel by two fine young missionaries about seven years ago but did not join the Church at that time. Throughout this long period the Church magazines have been my only contact with the Church. I have received endless spiritual guidance and encouragement from the many articles. There have been many times during this period when I have been very depressed, and the magazines have always been a source of strength. They have played a strong part in finally bringing me into the true Church.
Tom WaitmanCupertino, California

Dzuliah B., 13, Philippines
I love dancing and singing. When I was in fifth grade, I joined an interschool dance competition. Our choreographer decided to have practices on Sundays. Without thinking twice, I went to him and told him that I wouldn’t be available on Sundays because I honor the Sabbath day. He was disappointed, but I remembered my two favorite hymns, “Choose the Right” and “Do What Is Right.” After this incident, I felt the assurance that I did the right thing.

“I thought that when I got baptized six years ago, my parents would become interested in the gospel and agree to be baptized, but that didn’t happen. One day I read the scripture, ‘He that loveth father or mother more than me is not worthy of me: and he that loveth son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me’ (Matthew 10:37). I adored my parents, so I wondered how I could love the Lord more than them.
“My parents weren’t against me joining the Church, but sometimes they would feel bad when I would spend more time reading the scriptures or going to church instead of doing things with them on the Sabbath. And explaining why I didn’t do certain things on Sundays anymore was hard.
“We had a bit of friction, but the more I read the scriptures and the more I got to know the Savior and my Heavenly Father, the more my love for my family grew. And I knew that if I followed Jesus Christ, my family would be blessed. I decided to put Him above all other things. Needless to say, things between my family and me continue to get better. I know that if I am obedient to the Lord, He will continue to bless my family and me.”
—Magaly Perez, Coahuila, Mexico

The young people listened intently as Don explained that although even as a child he had been a Buck Rogers fan and dreamed of going to the moon, he would never have been an astronaut except for an experience that seemed at the time no more than a fluke. Only years later did he realize that the Lord had reached out and touched his life.
“When I was at Officer Candidate School,” he said, “the section leader came around and we were supposed to sign up for the, physical examination for any of the specialty programs such as underwater demolition or submarines. We were in the study hall, and he walked up behind me and said, ‘Okay, Lind, what shall I sign you up for?’ and I said, ‘Oh, by all means sign me up for flight training.’ He said, ‘Okay,’ and I said, ‘I’m joking!’ He said, ‘I already marked it down,’ and I said ‘Well, erase it!’ He said, ‘I marked it in pen, and this is the only copy I’ve got.’ If he had marked it in pencil he would have just erased it. I said, ‘What am I going to do now?’ He said, ‘Just go take the physical. You don’t really have to apply for it.’ ‘All right, fine.’ So I took the physical, and by golly I passed it! So I thought, well, you can always go down and just try out for flight training, and if you like it … I did try it, and I did like it, and eventually I began flying off aircraft carriers. But if that guy had had a pencil in his hand instead of a pen, I never would have been an astronaut, because flight skills are one of the requirements.
“I learned from this experience that sometimes we don’t realize what the really critical decisions are, and so we’ve got to have the Lord’s help in guiding us. Choosing a wife or husband is an obviously important decision, but taking that physical didn’t seem very important at all. One reason you pray regularly is so that these seemingly insignificant decisions can be the right ones.”

After failed attempts by several organizations, clean water gushed from a 600-foot-deep borehole, donated by LDS Charities to the community of Agulu Obeleagu Umunna. The project in Enugu State is one of many completed by LDS Charities, the humanitarian arm of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
During the commissioning ceremony, Dr. C.O.C. Egumgbe, Commissioner for Water Resources, representing State Governor, the Right Honorable, Ifeanyi Ugwuanyi, thanked LDS Charities for their contributions to the development of the State.
“Water is life,” said Egumgbe. “Whoever brings water to the people, brings life and joy to the people.”
President-General, Victor Udeani, of Agulu Umuna Development Union, expressed gratitude to LDS Charities for serving his community through the provision of clean water.
Engineer Udeani recounted the various failed attempts at constructing a functional borehole saying, “We have seen today, that with God, nothing is impossible. We thank LDS Charities for their tireless work.”

Following the recommendation of the Council of the Twelve to feature cultural programs in conjunction with June regional meetings, the Payson (Utah) Region youth got together last summer for a lively, creative dance festival on a local high school football field.
“The Colorful World of Dance” was a treat not only for the audience but for the 360 participants from Payson Utah, Payson Utah East, and Santaquin Utah stakes who kicked up their heels in such numbers as “Devil’s Dream,” “Muskrat Love,” and “Spinning Wheel.” Swedish, Norwegian, and Hungarian folk dances were also featured, and a Lamanite sister rendered “The Lord’s Prayer” in Indian sign language.
Many hours were spent sewing colorful costumes and practicing under the leadership of 16 stake dance directors and two ballroom dancers from BYU. As the group concluded by gathering to sing “I Am a Child of God” with the audience, it was generally agreed that it had all been worth the effort.

All it took was a call to Gary’s Creek Missionary Baptist Church in Tennessee for Chris Collier to find the perfect Eagle Scout project.
Chris, a member of the Memphis First Ward, Memphis North Stake, says, a little nervously, “This is something that’s never been done before.” Gary’s Creek church asked him to document its cemetery—the oldest black cemetery in Shelby County.
Chris first needs to meet everyone involved and decide how much help he will need on the project. He drives to Gary’s Creek Cemetery on a road paved over the old stagecoach line. As soon as he steps out of the car, he has to swat at a mosquito. It’s the height of Tennessee heat in August, and it’s so humid you can practically drink the air. But that isn’t going to stop Chris.
There’s a group waiting for him at the gate to the cemetery. Mr. Lacy, who has many ancestors buried here, greets Chris. “This cemetery is a gold mine for genealogists,” Mr. Lacy tells Chris as he adjusts his wide-brimmed hat. “Think of all those people’s stories buried under the ground.” Mr. Lacy has uncovered the story of one of his ancestors buried here—Joseph H. Harris, better known as “Free Joe.” He wrote two books about Free Joe’s adventures and is turning them into a Hollywood screenplay.
Chris walks through the cemetery with his notebook and camera. The huge trees’ heavy branches droop in the heat, and thick emerald grass covers some of the grave markers completely. There are all types of people buried here, from tiny babies to Civil War veterans. Some of the markers are simple rusty spikes in the ground; others have hand-carved names in aged, chipped stones. Nobody can tell what they say, except for the caretaker, Mr. Brooks.
Mr. Brooks has been caretaker of Gary’s Creek Cemetery since 1939. He moves slowly around the cemetery with the help of his cane and quietly points out different grave markers to Chris. Mr. Brooks is the only one who knows the names on and locations of all the graves. His father was caretaker before him.
“I used to walk around the cemetery with my father while he helped me memorize the graves,” Mr. Brooks says. Many of the graves are unmarked, and the only documentation is in Mr. Brooks’s memory. If Mr. Brooks dies, the information dies with him. Chris isn’t going to let that happen.
Leslie Louthain, the director of the LDS family history center in the area, and her husband are also here to help. She gives Chris tips on how to put all the information in a database. He’ll give one copy to the Gary’s Creek church and send one to the Church’s Family History Library in Salt Lake City.
Sister Louthain thoughtfully examines a grave marker near the woods until she discovers there is more than family history in this cemetery.
“There are snakes in those trees!” she shrieks. Her husband laughs, and she heads for higher ground.
As Chris wraps up his first visit, he sighs. “I’m feeling a little overwhelmed. This one cemetery could be a lot of separate projects,” he says. But he isn’t afraid to plunge in anyway.
Chris doesn’t feel so overwhelmed when he comes back with a big group of teens to help him. The ladies from Gary’s Creek church provide lunch, and it isn’t as hot, because now it’s well into autumn.
Chris divides up the teens into groups to document the graves, with the help of Mr. Lacy and Mr. Brooks, of course. You can barely tell who belongs to which church because everyone is mixed together, trying to get all the information recorded.
As Chris wraps it all up, everyone is pleased. The members of Gary’s Creek church can rest easy, knowing the information in their vast cemetery has been preserved, and Chris’s group can be satisfied knowing they’ve helped preserve information for future family history work.
The cemetery seems a little more peaceful now, thanks to Chris, because the richness of its history won’t be lost. Who knows what stories might later be uncovered?
As Chris takes a reflective look around the cemetery, Mr. Lacy says, “Family history is going to be what brings religions and races together.” And in his little corner of Tennessee, Chris helped do just that.

A busy teenager in a rather large family complained about the amount of time taken with daily family prayer. As the wise mother was praying, she intentionally left out the name of the complaining child. As the prayer concluded, the busy child said, “Mother, you left me out of your prayer!” The loving mother explained that she was just responding to the complaint expressed. The busy child exclaimed, “Don’t leave me out.”