Gospel Story Finder

I have the privilege of serving with a great Church leader from Indonesia, Subandriyo. He joined the Church as a young man. He is from a poor home without many of the material things of this life. When Subandriyo fell in love with Steffi, he went to ask her mother if they could marry. He had no money, nothing for a traditional wedding party. But this is the promise he made to Steffi's mother. "I have no money for a wedding, but I promise you that I will make your daughter the happiest woman on earth and I will always take care of her." He has kept that promise.

Paula says, “The standards I always saw my friend live were now mine. My friend’s testimony was now mine.” Not long after, Paula began to feel an intense desire to share with others what she had been given. When she had been a member for one year, she filled out her mission papers, met with her priesthood leaders, and received a call to serve in the Chile Santiago East Mission.
Valeria says, “As I watched my friend prepare to serve her mission, the Spirit touched my heart. I wanted to commit myself to serve God the way she was.”
“May I speak to you?” This time it was Valeria who had pulled Paula aside. “I’ve felt something special as you have been preparing to leave on your mission.”
Paula told her friend the same thing her friend had once told her: “It’s the Spirit telling you what you need to do.”
Valeria’s plans hadn’t included a full-time mission. She wasn’t quite sure how to proceed. “I can’t do it alone,” she told Paula.
“Don’t worry. I’ll help you,” her friend assured.
Later, when Valeria opened her call, she was surprised to be going to the same mission as her friend. Paula began serving in October 2002; Valeria joined her in February 2003.
During their missions they saw each other quite often at conferences and activities. They enjoyed catching up and sharing news from their separate areas. They never dreamed that in November 2003 they would be assigned as companions. Their friendship bloomed into a relationship that will last forever. They have gone from being friends to sisters in the gospel to missionary companions.
Sister Valeria Pontelli says, “At first I was afraid that working together might damage our friendship, but that fear faded the first day. This chance to work together has only strengthened our relationship, and our friendship has helped us in the work.”
Others agree. One woman, who used to be less active but has come back to church because of the efforts of these two missionaries, says, “You can’t help but love them because you can see the love they feel for each other and for everyone around them. They are my angels.”
It was hard for these two companions to say good-bye in March 2004, when Sister Paula Alvarez’s mission came to an end. She was nervous about returning to Argentina and all that the future might bring. These two sisters talked about her concerns as they walked to their appointments together. “I can’t do it alone,” said Sister Alvarez.
“Don’t worry,” came the familiar words from her companion, Sister Pontelli. “I’ll help you.”

I remember as a deacon watching the priests as they would officiate at the sacrament table. One priest by the name of Barry had a lovely voice and would read the sacrament prayers with clear diction—as though he were competing in a speech contest. The other members of the ward, particularly the older sisters, would compliment him on his “golden voice.” I think he became a bit proud. Jack, another priest in the ward, was hearing impaired, which caused his speech to be unnatural in its sound. We deacons would twitter at times when Jack would bless the emblems. How we dared to do so is beyond me, for Jack had hands like a bear and could have crushed any one of us.

On one occasion Barry, with the beautiful voice, and Jack, with the awkward delivery, were assigned together at the sacrament table. The hymn was sung; the two priests broke the bread. Barry knelt to pray, and we closed our eyes. But nothing happened. Soon we deacons opened our eyes to see what was causing the delay. I shall ever remember the picture of Barry frantically searching the table for the little white card on which were printed the sacrament prayers. It was nowhere to be found. What to do? Barry’s face turned pink and then crimson as the congregation began to look in his direction.

Then Jack, with that bearlike hand, reached up and gently tugged Barry back onto the bench. He himself then knelt on the little footstool and began to pray: “O God, the Eternal Father, we ask thee in the name of thy Son, Jesus Christ, to bless and sanctify this bread to the souls of all those who partake of it. …” He continued the prayer, and the bread was passed. Jack also blessed the water, and it was passed. What respect we deacons gained that day for Jack who, though handicapped in speech, had memorized the sacred prayers! Barry, too, had a new appreciation for Jack. A lasting bond of friendship had been established.

Although severely wounded with grief and beset with major problems that made the going anything but smooth, from that time President Young acted with inspired single-mindedness and effectiveness to shepherd the stunned Church and unite it under the authority of the Twelve, as he was certain Joseph had intended. He led the apostles back from the East on August 6, amid rumors that some of the mob were still lying in wait to kill them. They found that Sidney Rigdon, the only remaining official member of the First Presidency, had returned from Pittsburgh, where he had gone over a year before when a rift had developed between him and the Prophet. Now he was claiming the right to act as guardian of the Church for Joseph. The President of the Quorum acted swiftly to unify the leaders, and then the body of the Saints, against this and other claims that threatened the Church with disintegration. The next morning he met with all the apostles at the home of John Taylor, who was still recovering from terrible wounds received at the martyrdom, and then in the afternoon with all the Church leaders at the Seventies’ Hall, where he effectively rebutted Sidney Rigdon’s claims. With inspired assurance Elder Young moved to the next day a general meeting that had been called for a week later and there brought about an orderly and unifying succession of leadership. As he described it to his daughter in that letter of August already quoted:
“The Brethren were overjoyed to see us come home, for they were little children without a father, and they felt so, you may be sure. All things are now reviving up again. The brethren prayed with all faith for us to return. … I have been in council almost all the time since I arrived here. But this much I can say, the spirit of Joseph is here, though we cannot enjoy their persons. Through the great anxiety of the Church there was a conference held last Thursday [August 8]. The power of the priesthood was explained and the order thereof, on which the whole Church lifted up their voices and hands for the Twelve to move forward and organize the Church and lead it as Joseph led it, which is our indispensable duty to do.”
All things were, in fact, “reviving up again,” despite the unsettled conditions only a few days earlier, and the process was successful mainly because through the power of the Lord “the spirit of Joseph” did indeed manifest itself in remarkable, to many witnesses even miraculous, ways.
There is much evidence—from Brigham Young’s own account of the meeting, from the record of the speech he gave there, and from the accounts of others—that he spoke in a new voice that day, yet one that was familiar to those who knew Joseph Smith. In his own diary Brigham recorded:
“This day is long to be remembered by me. … Now Joseph is gone, it seemed as though many wanted to draw off a party and be leaders. But this cannot be. The Church must be one or they are not the Lord’s; the saints looked as though they had lost a friend that was able and willing to counsel them in all things; in this time of sorrow … I arose and spoke to the people. My heart was swollen with compassion towards them and by the power of the Holy Ghost, even the spirit of the prophets, I was enabled to comfort the hearts of the Saints. … I laid before them the order of the Church and the power of the priesthood. After a long and laborious talk of about two hours in the open air with the wind blowing, the Church was of one heart and one mind. They wanted the Twelve to lead the Church as Br. Joseph had done in his day.”25
The speech shows that Brigham Young indeed had the “spirit of the prophets,” that through the power of the Holy Ghost he spoke with a new sense of authority that both recalled to the people their lost Prophet and yet encouraged them to look forward to the great destiny of the Lord’s Church that had been restored:
“Attention all! … For the first time in my life, for the first time in your lives, … without a prophet at our head, do I step forth to act in my calling in connection with the Quorum of the Twelve, as Apostles of Jesus Christ, … who are ordained and anointed to bear off the keys of the kingdom of God in all the world. …
“You did not know who you had amongst you. … He loved you unto death—you did not know it until after his death; he has now sealed his testimony with his blood. There is much to be done. … as for myself I am determined to build up the kingdom of God. …
“Brother Joseph the Prophet has laid the foundation for a great work and we will build upon it. … There is an almighty foundation laid, and we can build a kingdom such as there never was in the world.”26
Wilford Woodruff recounted, long after, “Just as quick as Brigham Young rose in that assembly, his face was that of Joseph Smith— … the power of God that was upon Joseph Smith was upon him, he had the voice of Joseph.”27
This miraculous descent of the mantle of the Prophet upon Brigham Young was later recalled by many who were in the audience,28 but the crucial thing was that whatever they remembered of the miraculous was confirmed in the following months by the reality of President Young’s leadership as he did in very fact become a Joseph—a clearly inspired prophet—to his people. As William Burton wrote the next May: “But [Joseph’s and Hyrum’s] places were filled by others much better than I once supposed they could have been, the spirit of Joseph appeared to rest upon Brigham.”29

That was a wise decision. Ed gained a seed in the World Cross-Country Championships in Paris and managed to finish third. He was unaware at the time that that race would later affect his mission.
He was called to serve in Barcelona, Spain, and ran off to the mission field without giving track a second thought—except when he used his knowledge and experience to interest members of Spanish track clubs in the gospel. It was under these circumstances that he once again met up with Jorge Garcia, the winner of the world cross-country meet in Paris. Jorge listened to several discussions, and though he wasn’t baptized, “he has a positive attitude about the Church,” Ed says.

Katya listened to the sounds of the train. The iron wheels rolled with a fast, rhythmic music: clackity, clackity, clackity, clack.
The train moved quickly toward the big city of Moscow, toward the airplane that would take Katya to her new home. Soon she would be flying away from Russia, away from her school and her friends, away from her orphanage, and language, and—and everything she had always known.
Her new parents sat beside her on the train. As her new mama asked her a question in English, the interpreter translated. “Are you hungry, Katya?”
“Dah (yes),” Katya said in her quietest voice.
Her new papa pulled out a package of crackers from his travel bag. They munched in silence, their eyes meeting from time to time. Whenever Katya looked up from her cracker, she found her new mama always smiling at her. So far, their only “words” to each other were smiles and nods.
Katya wanted to ask all kinds of questions, but she was afraid. How long will it take me to speak and understand this new language? She wondered. Will my new brothers and sisters like me? Will the children in my new school make fun of me?
Through the window, the villages seemed to race by. She smoothed the skirt of her new dress, then hugged her doll closer. Filled with all her fears, she started crying softly.
She felt her mama’s hand move gently onto hers. Katya watched while her mama pulled a small tape recorder from the travel bag and turned it on. The music was gentle, and when the singing began she was glad to hear that the words were Russian.
“Ya Gospodnia dietia (I am a child of God).” She had never heard such ideas. The song continued, “And he has sent me here, Has given me an earthly home With parents kind and dear.”*
As Katya listened to this new song—with its ideas she had never before thought about—the words seemed to melt through her, slowly finding their way to her heart, until she felt as if her whole self, inside and out, was covered with a warm quilt.
As the music continued, she smiled at her new parents and they smiled back.
The new song had chased her fears away.

Growing up, I knew the gospel was true from attending seminary, watching the example of my oldest brother, and reading the scriptures. But I faced a lot of opposition when I turned 19 and began preparing to serve a mission. I had to wait much longer than I wanted to, but eventually I was able to serve. It was the most memorable time of my life!
And even though I faced a lot of opposition on my mission, it was there that I grew significantly closer to Jesus Christ and learned about His perfect love from the scriptures and my own experiences. I was able to learn to love the people I served the way the Savior loved them.
Developing charity helped me serve the best two years of my life, and as I reflect back on that time, I recognize even more fully how the scriptures led me to develop Christ’s pure love.

Conner’s new family got up every Sunday morning, put on their nice clothes, and went to church. “At first, church was really hard,” Conner says. Sitting for three hours with no idea what was going on wasn’t easy. “I wanted to know what they were talking about.”
But he began to understand and feel a desire to learn more about the gospel. His parents called the mission president and asked if Conner could have Mandarin speaking missionaries teach him the discussions. And it just so happened that a sister missionary, Sister Jin, was available to teach him.
On their first visit, Sister Jin and Conner were talking to each other in Mandarin when they suddenly started jumping up and down with huge smiles on their faces. They were from the same town in China! “Finding out that they’re from the same city, love the same foods, and knew the same places was so special,” said Christianne.
“I’m so lucky,” said Conner, “I had a great missionary who taught me everything about Jesus. And when I started to learn about Him, I was so happy. I didn’t know anything about Him. My mom taught me how to pray, then Sister Jin taught me simple things. It just started with wanting to learn the gospel.”

A glimpse of our Heavenly Father’s anguish came to me several years ago during a high-adventure trip with my oldest son and several members of his priest’s quorum. We had gone to the San Juan Islands off the coast of Washington. One of the activities the boys wanted to do was ride their bicycles on the paved road down from the top of Mount Constitution. I’ve done a bit of riding in my life, and I encouraged the boys to first ride up the mountain so they could remember where the gravel, the cracks in the pavement, the tightest turns, and other such potential hazards were. But of course that was too hard. So we took all the boys and the bikes to the top and all started down. I came down last, and I helped pick up each boy as each crashed at a different location. My son, for example, had entered a hairpin turn going hopelessly too fast. He had a choice: go over the railing or lay the bike down. With brakes tightly squeezed, he laid the bike down and skidded for some distance on the asphalt. His T-shirt rolled up his back, and he received quite a road rash, including embedded bits of small gravel and tar.

Like any unprepared Scout troop, our only cleaning agent in the first-aid kit was alcohol. As I watched his friends begin to clean the wounds on his back with the alcohol, I simply could not bear to watch. The pain must have been excruciating, and I could not stand to see my son suffer.

I know that Heavenly Father hurt at the sight of His Son’s suffering. I know that both Heavenly Father and His Son love us.

In my mother’s blessing, she was promised she would have sons and daughters. When my parents’ first child was born, it was a girl. Then Melinda came—a second girl. After that, Julie, Allison, Mary Jane, and Michelle followed. After she had had six girls, friends and family began suggesting that perhaps her blessing meant she would have sons in the next life or maybe she would have sons-in-law when her daughters married. But my mother remained prayerful and firmly believed that sons would be born to her. She wasn’t surprised when her next child was Scott and the last one was Kurt. She knew what her blessing meant, and she had faith in God’s promise, claiming that blessing with confidence.

We have a leader as a prophet who has told us to lengthen our stride. He is a man who is a prophet, Spencer W. Kimball. How do I know that? By having been around him a very short period, but also by having observed him and heard stories about him for many years.

On my first stake assignment, the stake president told me this: “You know, when President Kimball was first assigned as a prophet and an apostle, he came to our house. My father was the stake president at the time. It was 5:30 in the morning, and we heard hammering. Out on our little shed at the back of our house where we needed some repairs was Elder Spencer W. Kimball—hammer in hand, nails, and shingles, repairing the roof.” On my next call, when I went to a particular stake where the lawn needed mowing, I almost felt as if I should have brought a lawnmower along because that is what the prophet had shown us. President Kimball has been dedicated—throughout his open-heart surgery, his cancer. And all of the afflictions that he has had could have caused him to give up. But he has dedicated every hour of every day so that this Church might move forward.

Several years ago, a friend of mine who was serving at the time as a stake president was out of work. He struggled hard to find employment, without success. Part of the problem was that he was nearly fifty years old, and many potential employers turned him down as qualified but too old. After several fruitless months, job interviews fell away to zero. After nearly a year out of work, the family’s savings were exhausted and their supply of food and other essentials was nearly all used up. My friend’s self-confidence had eroded to the vanishing point. Finally, he got another job interview. It went well, but the interviewer was undecided, influenced as others had been by my friend’s age. Finally, a senior partner in the firm intervened. “Hire him,” he declared. “He’s a Mormon stake president; he won’t steal from us.” Integrity is the jewel in the crown of character!

One of the talks that has had an everlasting impression on me is one given in a Saturday evening session of a stake conference years ago. The talk was given by a young mother. Here’s what she said: “I have been doing the genealogy of my great-grandfather. He and his large family of sons and daughters were members of the Church.
“My great-grandfather,” she said, “left church one Sunday with his family, and they never returned—no indication why.”
She then said, “In my research, I have found that my great-grandfather has over 1,000 descendants.”
And then she said, and this is the part I have not been able to forget, “Of those 1,000 descendants, I am the only one active in the Church today.”
As she said these words, I found myself thinking, “Is it only 1,000, or could it be more?”
The answer is apparent. The spiritual influence that family might have had on their neighbors and friends did not happen. None of his sons nor any of his daughters served as missionaries, and those they would have touched with their testimonies were not baptized, and those who were not baptized did not go on missions. Yes, there are probably many thousands who are not in the Church today, and not in this very meeting, because of that great-grandfather’s decision.
As I heard her talk I found myself thinking, “What a tragedy! Perhaps if I had been there at that time, I could have said something to the father, to the family, to the priesthood leaders that might have helped to prevent such a calamity to their family and to so many in the future generations that would follow.”

About two weeks before the rededication of the Washington D.C. Temple in August 2022, my boss and I noticed that one of the European hornbeam trees leading to the temple looked sick. It was sparse in the middle and had some scraggly branches.
As the temple groundskeeper, I was concerned that the beautiful temple grounds were ready except for that one little spot. The tree was next to the fountain near the entrance to the temple.
We had a healthy backup tree growing nearby, and we discussed the possibility of swapping out the healthy tree for the sick one. But first we would have to take up the nearby sidewalk and grass and then move the sprinkler and electrical lines running through the area. My worst fear was that we would pull out the sick tree, transplant the replacement tree, and not have time to make everything around the tree look good for the rededication.
When I told my wife, Carolyn, that we might have to move the tree, she replied: “Just trim off the scraggly branches, and I’ll get my scripture sisters across the country to pray for it. The temple grounds are the Lord’s. He’ll bless the tree.”
Carolyn has a group of friends she calls her scripture sisters—members of the Church who used to live in the same ward. They studied Come, Follow Me together until they all moved, but they keep in touch. When prayer is needed, they call on each other.
After Carolyn told them about the sick tree, they told their children and other family members. Carolyn had no idea how many prayed for the tree, but she had faith that Heavenly Father would hear their prayers.
Within only a few days, the tree sprouted new leaves, filling in the sparse area. “Of course it’s looking better,” Carolyn said. She sent pictures of the tree to her scripture sisters, telling them, “Look how the Lord answered us!”
I knew that people were praying for the tree, so I wasn’t surprised either. I also knew that President Russell M. Nelson would soon bless the temple and the temple grounds during his dedicatory prayer. The tree would be OK.
We were grateful the Lord had honored our offering and faith.

A few years ago I conducted a mission tour. Some of the missionaries were struggling with obedience. That evening the mission president and I conducted interviews with some of the missionaries. The next morning the mission president commenced our zone conference by giving a masterful talk on integrity. I felt impressed to further speak on that subject. We observed that in a few moments we would be conducting additional interviews. We requested that the missionaries not play the game in which someone only discloses the truth if he is asked the perfect, pointed question. If they were men of integrity, they might say, “President, I don’t need any questions—I’ve made some mistakes, and I want to voluntarily disclose them. I want to be 100 percent honest.”

Well, you know what happened. The Spirit was there, and four missionaries from the night before privately stepped forward and said, “We have something else to disclose.”

One of them said, “I want to be an honest man.” That day he changed his foundation of sand for a granite foundation of integrity.

When I’d been married only two weeks, I almost burned our apartment down. I was making toast when suddenly our brand-new toaster burst into flames.
While I stood there in shock, my new husband took action. He ran the toaster outside and dumped it upside down. Along with my blackened toast, out came … a thoroughly toasted instruction manual. Oops.
Thankfully, you don’t need to be perfect at making toast (or at anything else) to be ready for eternal marriage. But there are a few simple things you can do to prepare, as a youth, right now.

When my mother was baptized a member of the Church in 1964, she could not drive, and the local branch met in a drafty building across town. She had to take several buses to get to and from church twice each Sunday. One cold, snowy night as she waited to catch the bus home, the missionaries passed by and told her that if she would keep her commitments to the Lord and continue to live the gospel, in the future it would be easier for her to get to church. Several years later, my mother passed her driving test. Soon afterward, the members worked hard to build a meetinghouse about a five-minute drive away from our home. Some years later, our ward house became the stake center. What a marvelous blessing it was for my mother to be able to get to ward and stake meetings so easily.

Allow me to share some of the miraculous blessings from letters and accounts I have received over the past four years. A humble couple from Idaho met fear with faith when the Lord called them to Russia. They wrote the following acceptance letter: “No one would have imagined we would be called to this assignment. We have no idea how we will learn the language or manage to be of service, and although we accept with much trepidation, going completely on faith, we know that the Lord and His prophet know more than we do where we should serve.” Ten months later the Stockholm Sweden Temple welcomed 30 Saints from a small branch in Russia led by this couple from Idaho who had barely begun to learn the Russian language. The scriptures tell us, “God has provided a means that man, through faith, might work mighty miracles.” Thus, God’s work is carried out by His children, “that faith also might increase in the earth, … that the fulness of my gospel might be proclaimed by the weak and the simple unto the ends of the world.”

Sister Paula Thomas of Sandy, Utah, discovered for herself that Heavenly Father does indeed speak to His children. She remembers:
“I was raised in a less-active home. Because of the influence of friends, I began attending Primary. When I was nine years old, my Primary teacher gave a lesson on personal prayer. I knew that I could pray at mealtimes and in meetings, but I had never thought of praying to Heavenly Father on my own.
“After the teacher dismissed our class, I approached her and asked her to teach me to pray. Kindly, she pulled out a piece of paper and began to write and talk at the same time. ‘You always begin by thanking Heavenly Father for all you have,’ she said, ‘and then you tell Him the desires of your heart. Is there something special you want to ask for, Paula?’
“I knew exactly what I wanted—I wanted to make my mother happy. I did not recall ever seeing her smile or laugh. Life was hard, and Mother cried often. I loved her so much that I would write poems, put on programs for her on Mother’s Day, and buy her gifts with my baby-sitting money. She was always grateful, but I knew her burdens were heavy.
“I left Primary that afternoon with those written instructions from my teacher. That night, when the house was quiet, I knelt at my bed and began my very first personal prayer. I prayed that I would be able to make my mother happy. I offered the same prayer every night for seven years.
“When I was 16, I received my patriarchal blessing from a patriarch whom I had never met. In my blessing he said: ‘Paula, the Lord has heard the prayers of your heart. A time will come in your life when you will be able to return with a deep feeling of love the gifts that have been so graciously given unto you by your mother. You will not only bring your mother happiness, you will give her the gift of joy.’
“As he was giving me the blessing, I received a powerful witness of God’s desire to communicate with us through personal revelation. Heavenly Father had heard my prayers, and He let me know he was aware of me.
“Years later, after my mother’s death, I went through the temple to receive sacred ordinances in her behalf. While there, I received an impression that I had truly given my mother the gift of joy—that day and on many other occasions.”

Last year, the whole school was studying the nature of God and what He is like. Our teachers taught us that God the Father, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Ghost are all one being without “passion or form” (feelings or a body). We knew that that was not correct, and we talked about it with our parents. When it came time for me to take the test on what we had learned that week in Bible class, one of the questions asked was, “Name the three parts of God.” Although I knew the answer they wanted me to give, I refused to write it because I knew that God was not made of three parts and that I should not give an answer I did not believe.
Later in the day, my teacher called me to her desk and asked why I had left the question blank. I told her that our church teaches that God the Father, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Ghost are three distinct personages, that Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ both have bodies, and that the Holy Ghost is a personage of Spirit. She said that she would give me full credit for my answer because I know what I believe, even though it differs from what the school teaches.