Gospel Story Finder

“We had a great desire and sense of urgency to go to the temple and there to have our family sealed for all time and eternity. As soon as we were able to go to the Salt Lake Temple following our first year in the Church, we eagerly went. The support of so many people who accompanied us was tremendous. The sealing for all time and eternity was one of the most glorious occasions of our lives.
“The reason for the urgency of going to the temple and being sealed as a family was realized when just two weeks later a tragic automobile accident claimed the life of our eleven-year-old daughter Kristin. As we stagger under the heavy loss and grieve her mortal absence in our lives, and as we examine and study the process of the accident, we know in our hearts that it was the will of Heavenly Father to call her spirit unto Himself. We are strengthened and comforted in the knowledge that her joy is full. We have gratitude in our hearts that the timing of our Heavenly Father was so kind and merciful.
“At a time such as this we can only ask questions and stand amazed as we ponder the answers: What if we had not joined the true church of Jesus Christ and given this gift to Kristin? What if we had delayed the conversion to a more convenient time? What if we had not gone to the temple with a sense of urgency when we did? What if we had not given Kristin the great joy of Primary, Sunday School, sacrament meetings and family home evenings?
“During the week before the accident Kristin had asked her mother if it would be possible for her to go back into the temple. She had loved it so.
“On a lonely Kansas cemetery there stands a gray monument. On it are the four names of our family. At the bottom are engraved these words: ‘This family is sealed for all time and eternity.’ Behind the tears of temporary loss our eyes show the clear and joyous knowledge that our decision was truly the correct decision.”

Tiffany Roy, of the Port Charlotte Ward in Florida, had an experience in which she was true to the teachings of the Church even though it was uncomfortable.

“I had just moved to another state and started school. There was a group of girls who found out that I was Mormon and started asking me all these questions. When they found out that I would not swear, this little group of girls blocked me from going inside the classroom. They told me that they would not let me go in until I would swear. I told them that we would be sitting there all day because I would not lower my standards for them. The girls let me go inside because they knew I wouldn’t do it. They avoided me the rest of the year. I did not care what they thought of me. I stood true to my faith by doing this.”

After I had been made a senior companion, I met Carlos Garcia in Montevideo. Carlos was about fourteen years old. We became acquainted as he attended our presentations of the missionary discussions in the home of his neighbors, the Carabajals. Carlos wanted us to teach his family and helped us arrange to meet his parents and his younger brothers and sisters. We taught the Garcias and watched them become members of the Church. One day as we visited in the Garcia home we noticed large red letters about six inches high that had been cut out and pasted on the living room wall. They spelled “Y Yo Tercero,” meaning “And I Third.”
We asked Carlos what the saying meant. He said: “Well, I figure it this way. God is first. My family and others come second. And I am third.” I have never forgotten this great teaching.

I wish to speak about opening the windows of heaven. As a boy I learned a great lesson of faith and sacrifice as I worked on my grandfather’s farm during the terrible economic depression of the 1930s. The taxes on the farm were delinquent, and Grandfather, like so many, had no money. There was a drought in the land, and some cows and horses were dying for lack of grass and hay. One day when we were harvesting what little hay there was in the field, Grandfather told us to take the wagon to the corner of the field where the best stand of hay stood and fill the wagon as full as we could and take it to the tithing yard as payment of his tithing in kind.
I wondered how Grandfather could use the hay to pay tithing when some of the cows that we were depending upon to sustain us might starve. I even questioned if the Lord expected that much sacrifice from him. Ultimately, I marveled at his great faith that somehow the Lord would provide. The legacy of faith he passed on to his posterity was far greater than money, because he established in the minds of his children and grandchildren that above all he loved the Lord and His holy work over other earthly things. He never became wealthy, but he died at peace with the Lord and with himself.

I conclude with an example from my own life. I once had a treasured friend who seemed to experience more of life’s troubles and frustrations than he could bear. Finally he lay in the hospital terminally ill. I knew not that he was there.
Sister Monson and I had gone to that same hospital to visit another person who was very ill. As we exited the hospital and proceeded to where our car was parked, I felt the distinct impression to return and make inquiry concerning whether my friend Hyrum might still be a patient there. A check with the clerk at the desk confirmed that Hyrum was indeed a patient there after many weeks.
We proceeded to his room, knocked on the door, and opened it. We were not prepared for the sight that awaited us. Balloon bouquets were everywhere. Prominently displayed on the wall was a poster with the words "Happy Birthday, Daddy" written on it. Hyrum was sitting up in his hospital bed, his family members by his side. When he saw us, he said, “Brother Monson, how in the world did you know that today is my birthday?” I smiled, but I left the question unanswered.
Those in the room who held the Melchizedek Priesthood surrounded this, their father and grandfather and my friend, and a priesthood blessing was given.
After tears were shed, smiles of gratitude exchanged, and tender hugs received and given, I leaned over to Hyrum and spoke softly to him: “Remember the words of the Lord, for they will sustain you. He promised you, ‘I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you’ (John 14:18).”

Smoke and ash filled the air, turning the sun red. Parker Boyack, 15, could see the smoke and orange glow in the sky. After seeing on television damage caused by the fire, he wanted to help. The next day he went with his mother to the evacuation center, where hundreds of families had spent the night.
“People were so shocked and scared,” he says. “I took down cots and folded blankets, then I sorted the donated food. I played with the children, fed the birds and cats, and took a big dog to the park to run. I think I made some difference. I knew we should help people, but this changed my life.”

Over 120 young single adults from the Kasoa Ghana Stake celebrated Valentine’s Day at the house of the Lord. Many of them entered the temple for the first time. Some brought family names, some received their own endowment, and everyone participated in gathering Israel. They felt the love of the Lord as they made covenants for themselves and their ancestors. The trip included devotionals and social activities at the Cantonments institute campus, a tour of the MTC, and a visit to the area office to see the Gathering Place displays. Ideas were shared on how to build capacity in the kingdom of God. It was a spiritually uplifting and testimony strengthening trip. The YSAs hope the Valentine’s Day visit to the temple will become an annual tradition.

A few years after my baptism, my family became refugees for a second time. The political regime in East Germany perceived my father as a dissident. His life was at risk, and we had to leave the country overnight, leaving behind everything we possessed. Again we had only the clothes we wore, some food for the trip, and family records as well as family pictures. By the time I was 11, we had been refugees twice within only seven years. But this time we had already received the gospel of Jesus Christ. We had made covenants with the Lord through baptism, and we came to a branch in Frankfurt, West Germany, with other members who had the same principles and precious values.

Into this branch, just a few years later, came a young widow with her two daughters. The missionaries had found this beautiful family, which included my future wife, Harriet.

When I saw Harriet for the first time, with her dark brown eyes, I thought, “These missionaries are really doing a great job!” Even as a teenager I liked Harriet quite a lot. My bold advances, however, showed only marginal success. I tried, for instance, to influence the seating at the sacrament table so I could pass the sacrament to her. This did not impress her very much. On my way to Church activities during the week, I usually rode my nice bicycle and often stopped at their home to ask if Harriet would want to have a ride to church on my bicycle. Harriet always declined. Sometimes, however, her mother was there and would say, “Harriet will walk, but I will gladly ride with you on your bike to church.” This wasn’t really what I was hoping for at the time, but I later realized it is an advantage to be on good terms with the mother of the girl of your dreams!

My mother and my mother-in-law both had the same strong faith that blessed them with the gifts of the Spirit. And they blessed not only my life, but the lives of generations to come.

President David O. McKay (1873–1970) said the principal reason the Church was organized was “to make life sweet today, to give contentment to the heart today, to bring salvation today. … Some of us look forward to a time in the future—salvation and exaltation in the world to come—but today is part of eternity” (Pathways to Happiness [1957], 291–2).

What you do today will determine how the restored gospel principles can influence the nations of the world tomorrow. It will determine how these heavenly rays of the gospel will light every land in the future.

By living up to this mission—in whatever life circumstance you find yourself—the Lord our God has responsibilities and blessings in store for each of you individually, far beyond your imagination.

May I invite you to rise to the great potential within you. But don’t reach beyond your capacity. Don’t set goals beyond your capacity to achieve. Don’t feel guilty or dwell on thoughts of failure. Don’t compare yourself with others. Do the best you can, and the Lord will provide the rest. Have faith and confidence in Him, our Savior, and you will see miracles happen in your life and the lives of your loved ones. The virtue of your own personal life will be a light to those who sit in darkness, and it will be because you are a living witness of the fulness of the restored gospel.

Wherever you are on this beautiful, but often troubled earth of ours, you can be the one to “succor the weak, lift up the hands which hang down, and strengthen the feeble knees” (D&C 81:5).

At a CES devotional in 2013, Elder David A. Bednar told the story of a worthy priesthood holder named John who had recently returned home from serving a mission and married a wonderful young woman named Heather. “Approximately three weeks after their temple marriage, John was diagnosed with bone cancer. Because cancer nodules were also discovered in his lungs, the prognosis was not good.”

Over the next few months, John underwent chemotherapy and a surgical procedure to remove a large tumor in his leg. Elder Bednar visited him and Heather in the hospital, and John asked if he would give him a priesthood blessing. Elder Bednar was then inspired to ask him, “I know you have the faith to be healed, but do you have the faith not to be healed?”

John later reported, “Having the faith not to be healed seemed counterintuitive, but that perspective changed the way my wife and I thought and allowed us to put our trust fully in the Father’s plan for us. … As we prayed, our petitions changed from ‘Please make me whole’ to ‘Please give me the faith to accept whatever outcome Thou hast planned for me.’” [6]

One woman I know had a father who was often angry and easily upset. She said, “For many years, I saw Heavenly Father the same way I saw my own—someone who for the most part kept his distance and was easily disappointed.” This impacted her ability to truly understand Heavenly Father. However, she shared that Heavenly Father helped her learn that “He is slowly walking me out of fearing Him and into the saving power of His love.” She began to see the real Him.

When David O. McKay became president of the Church in 1951, the vision of an institution of higher learning in La'ie, Hawaii, was still on his mind. Such an investment of Church funds in a tiny village on a tiny island in the Pacific seemed counterintuitive to some. But President McKay was adamant about the school and the place. In 1954 he selected Reuben D. Law, Dean of Education at BYU, to be the first president. It is not difficult to imagine the magnitude of this calling, to be the president of a school that did not exist yet, no students, no faculty, no curriculum, and no buildings—not even an exact location. President Law's assignment was to "turn President McKay's vision into a reality." President McKay said to Dr. Law, "You have my sincere blessings. You have my full confidence. You have the positive approach not the negative."

Seven months later, February 12, 1955 President McKay broke ground for the college and insisted that the doors open to students that very Fall. The grandeur of President McKay's dedicatory speech about what the school would become and the influence it would have in the Church and the world might have been intimidating to a lesser soul than Reuben Law.

Starting from scratch, a million details had to be addressed, each one of which could have been overwhelming. But Law did not flinch. He may have felt more apprehension if it weren't for four critical elements: (1) His absolute and fervent testimony of President McKay's calling as a prophet, seer, and revelator; (2) his direct access to President McKay on nearly all matters concerning the college, including budget, thus bypassing much of the bureaucracy and red tape of the Church; (3) his immaculate and courageous wife, Leda Law, who became a full partner in the college building enterprise. The Laws had just constructed their own new home in Provo when the call was extended to come to La'ie, but Leda "cheerfully gave away what the family had collected thirty years to become the mother of the new campus." And (4), a knowledgeable and supportive local Board of Trustees chaired by Edward L. Clissold.

Reuben Law's organizational skills were taxed to the fullest. The immediate task at hand was to get facilities ready for the September 1955 opening of the school. Here Edward Clissold was invaluable. In April 1955, Clissold purchased seven surplus barracks from Wheeler Air Force Base and had them taken to La'ie. "At one time thirty-six sections of the buildings were on the two-lane highway simultaneously."(History) They were set up just below the temple with asphalt pavement linking the buildings together.

A battalion of construction missionaries were called from the U.S. and Hawaii to build the new physical plant south of the temple. By September of 1955, twenty faculty, 153 students crowded into the temporary buildings. The faculty were green. Few had experience teaching on the college level. Only a few had any experience living overseas, but like President Law they were committed to President McKay's vision and to Hawaii. When Kenneth and Dorothea Slack had their baby shortly after arrival, they named her KananioLa'iekapuamuakakulanui, the beauty of La'ie, the first flower of the college.

President Law cultivated a sense of pioneering among the faculty. Like all pioneering efforts, there was occasional conflict and misunderstanding among the ranks. A man of strong character, Law wielded a firm hand. Under his guidance a strong curriculum was created, focusing on the Liberal Arts with some vocational courses and teacher education, as well as courses in Religion. When President David O. McKay returned in the spring of 1957 to visit to the campus, he was amazed at what he saw exclaiming, "what hath God wrought." He said to President Law, "You have the right spirit at this college, I can feel it."

Eunice Billings Snow knew the Prophet when as a young girl. "During the times of the persecution of the Prophet, . . . he would request my father and mother to come to sing for him." I thought that was interesting, because it wasn't a new thing for him to ask John Taylor to sing to him in Carthage. "They would take me with them and when Joseph found that I could sing a part alone he requested them to bring me. We would sing his favorite hymns, 'When Joseph His Brethren Beheld,' 'Redeemer of Israel,' 'The Spirit of God,' and several others. He would have me sit close to him and laying his hands on my head would say, 'My little sister, you will be able to sing the songs of Zion as long as you desire.'
"I was always very much affected by the spirit, which he manifested. At first I did not know what it was, but my mother told me it was the power which Joseph possessed."

In Holland during World War II, the Casper ten Boom family used their home as a hiding place for those hunted by the Nazis. This was their way of living out their Christian faith. Four members of the family lost their lives for providing this refuge. Corrie ten Boom and her sister Betsie spent horrific months in the infamous Ravensbrück concentration camp. Betsie died there—Corrie survived.
In Ravensbrück, Corrie and Betsie learned that God helps us to forgive. Following the war, Corrie was determined to share this message. On one occasion, she had just spoken to a group of people in Germany suffering from the ravages of war. Her message was “God forgives.” It was then that Corrie ten Boom’s faithfulness brought forth its blessing.
A man approached her. She recognized him as one of the cruelest guards in the camp. “You mentioned Ravensbrück in your talk,” he said. “I was a guard there. … But since that time, … I have become a Christian.” He explained that he had sought God’s forgiveness for the cruel things he had done. He extended his hand and asked, “Will you forgive me?”
Corrie ten Boom then said:
“It could not have been many seconds that he stood there—hand held out—but to me it seemed hours as I wrestled with the most difficult thing I had ever had to do.
“… The message that God forgives has a … condition: that we forgive those who have injured us. …
“… ‘Help me!’ I prayed silently. ‘I can lift my hand. I can do that much. You supply the feeling.’
“… Woodenly, mechanically, I thrust my hand into the one stretched out to me. As I did, an incredible thing took place. The current started in my shoulder, raced down my arm, sprang into our joined hands. And then this healing warmth seemed to flood my whole being, bringing tears to my eyes.
“‘I forgive you, brother!’ I cried. ‘With all my heart.’
“For a long moment we grasped each other’s hands, the former guard and the former prisoner. I had never known God’s love so intensely, as I did then.”6

Amy was baptized this year. “My daddy baptized me, and he made me stay under the water for a long time to make sure I was all the way under.” When she came up, she took a big breath and said, “I’m all clean.” Later, she added, “I felt really different when I was baptized. I felt clean afterward and wanted to stay clean.” Whenever Amy has to make a hard decision, she asks herself, “What would Jesus do?” She always tries to help people and even animals who need help.

I know of another young man who recently returned from Vietnam. He told of the close bond of love in his family. He said, “My buddies tried to persuade me to go into Saigon and ‘live it up.’ This went on day after day, but I kept thinking of my family and their influence and the memories of our family home evenings and of my patriarchal blessing. It seemed to give me the courage I needed to resist them.”
He then said, “I got out my blessing and read it and reread it. It promised me a temple marriage if I was worthy. After a while, my buddies were impressed with my conviction. They started to respect me and then wanted to know more.”

My dear friend Dr. Gary Weaver was one who helped many people find and keep contact with the iron rod as they moved on the path toward the love of God. When Gary was eighteen, he went on a six-week BYU survival trip that changed his life. It was on that trip that he adopted this motto: “If I help others, the Lord will give me everything I need.” It was this motto that guided his life of service. Over the years, Gary ran more than 160 weeklong survival trips in the Boulder and Escalante areas of southern Utah. Through these trips he helped more than 4,000 people learn about themselves and strengthen their relationships with the Lord. Most of the people Gary took on survival trips were counted as “the least of these”11—people who were metaphorically wounded and lying at the side of the path.
I was privileged to accompany Gary on one of the survival trips with thirty high school students from the Nebo School District. The experience touched me deeply as I watched Gary help the young women and men find healing and found my own healing and a firmer grip on the iron rod. I was part of a group trying to find our way in the desert, through a swamp, and along difficult paths. During all the time we hiked, Gary encouraged us to work together to solve problems, help one another, and move toward our goal. In the evenings, exhausted and tired, we would spend time recounting the day’s experiences and listening while Gary’s ­harmonica playing lulled us to sleep.

1. That morning for breakfast, each family member had only a half-piece of bread. Six-year-old Elizabeth noticed Mother’s worried expression.
2. Mother gave Father the last piece of bread, spread with lard, for his lunch. “I’m sorry, Joseph,” she said, “that I can’t give you more. But food is scarce, and people haven’t enough for themselves, let alone for the temple workers.”
Father smiled and said, “I know that whatever you fix is done with love, and I appreciate you.”
3. Although Elizabeth was hungry, she didn’t want Father to have to stop his carpentry work on the Manti Temple to earn money for food. She knew how important temples were to the Lord’s work.
4. Elizabeth rocked Baby Sina while Mother mended clothes with neat, fast stitches. When the baby fussed, Elizabeth bounced her gently and sang “Come, Come, Ye Saints” to her.
5. There was only enough flour for one more batch of bread, so Elizabeth and Mother knelt down together to ask Heavenly Father for help.
6. That night, after having only one small piece of bread each for supper, they went to bed early before the hunger pangs started again. Elizabeth thought that her stomach was resting on her backbone, but pioneer girls were too brave to complain.
7. Sunbeams were already resting on her quilt when Elizabeth awoke the next morning. Just as she finished dressing, Aunt Matilda came.
8. “Last night,” Aunt Matilda said, “I dreamed that you were hungry and desperate for something to eat. So I got up early to bring you some fresh eggs and milk, flour, and dried apples and berries from my farm.”
9. “Thank you, Heavenly Father,” Elizabeth whispered, as her grateful father hugged his sister.

Before President Hugh B. Brown was a General Authority, he served in England as an officer in the Canadian army and had great power. Men stood at attention before him and called him “sir.” One day Brother Brown received a message that he was wanted in the hospital. When he got there, someone directed him to a little room where a sick young man lay. Brother Brown remembered that he had once been that young man’s Sunday School teacher. “Brother Brown,” said the young man, “would you use your authority in my behalf? The doctors say I cannot live. Will you give me a blessing?” All the pride Brother Brown felt in wearing the uniform of the king disappeared as he laid his hands upon the boy’s head and gave him a blessing. The help that the boy needed was not from any authority of an officer in the king’s army but from the authority of the priesthood.

On Gratitude to the Lord
Obeying God’s commandments has been important to us. We stood firmly by our decision to keep the Sabbath day holy and wouldn’t bend. As we did all that we could do, our children learned that there is a God and He blesses us. Our children really do hear and remember.
When our oldest son was serving in the Japan Fukuoka Mission, the mission president often introduced him by saying, “Elder Kawada’s father stopped growing potatoes so he could keep the Sabbath day holy. Elder Kawada was raised in a family like that.”
We feel happy when we see our children. They come to church. They have served missions and married in the temple. We are grateful to our Heavenly Father, who knows us and has blessed us.

I knew before the race started that it would be tough—a four-mile cross-country trek through the sandhills. There were plenty of ups and downs, and several places where your feet sank into the sandy soil and slowed you to a walk.
I knew it would be hard, because I’d helped my dad mark out the trail two days before. He’s the gym teacher at my school. It’s his job each fall to choose and mark out the route for the divisional cross-country races.
“I want it tough, David, but fair,” he said to me as we tied up small blue ribbons to mark the route. “There’ll be good runners as well as some who race just to get an afternoon off school. I want the course tough enough to challenge the serious runners.” He grinned at me and said, “You wouldn’t want it too easy, would you?”
I grinned back and shook my head. This was the first year I could be in the race. Each year I’d heard Dad talk about it, and I’d heard the older kids at school say it was really tough. I was eager to compete in it.
I’m in fine form, I thought. I’d been practicing for six weeks, and my legs and lungs felt ready. In gym class I easily beat the other boys at two miles, but we’d never run the whole four miles. That, plus all the hills, might make a difference. And, of course, kids from five other schools would be in the race too. I’d heard rumors that one of the other schools had a really good runner in my division.
When we lined up for the first race of the meet, I knew who it was. His classmates called him Mike, and urged him on. I was determined to beat him, even though he was a good six inches taller than me. That meant his legs were a lot longer—I’d probably have to take four strides to cover the same distance he did in three!
The route began with a really steep hill with stunted oak trees scattered over it. “Why did you put the start here?” I’d asked Dad when we set it up. “Do you want to scare everybody at the start?”
“That’s the idea!” He grinned, then explained that the actual reason was to make the runners spread out instead of bunching together. “They’re less likely to bump into each other that way.”
Now, racing up Heartbreak Hill, I saw what he meant. Everyone was soon walking, including me! At the top I resumed running. Only one runner—Mike—was ahead of me as I followed the course-marking ribbons down the other side. I didn’t try to catch him. This side was much shorter, but steeper, so I was careful to keep my legs under control.
At the bottom, the trail flattened out and wound through poplar trees. Then it took a sharp right turn through an open wire gate before twisting alongside a creek for half a mile or so. By the time we turned away from the creek, Mike was about a hundred yards ahead, going at a steady lope. The rest of the runners were so far behind that I couldn’t see anyone else.
We were more than halfway there, and I was beginning to wonder if I’d be able to catch Mike. My legs were straining on “automatic,” but his long legs seemed to carry him effortlessly up the hills. Even the sandy places didn’t slow him down much.
My breath was getting ragged. I thought about walking for a while, but I didn’t want to let Mike increase the distance between us. My classmates were counting on my winning, and even Dad had hinted that it would be nice to see my name on the trophy. I forced myself to keep running.
Then Mike suddenly slowed and turned his head from side to side as if he were lost. He’s right where the trail branches, I thought. He can’t tell which way to go.
The trail was marked to turn right, but he turned left and picked up speed again.
I’ll catch him! was my first thought. Then, Why didn’t he follow the ribbon?
In a moment I was up to where he’d turned off. There was no ribbon visible, though I’d seen Dad put one there. I took a few strides in the right direction, and there it was, fallen to the ground, and half hidden by grass.
He’ll soon figure out that he’s wrong, I thought and took a couple more strides. But it was almost as if I could hear Dad’s voice: “Winning is important, but it’s not the most important.”
I stopped running. “Mike!” I called loudly. “You’re going the wrong way.”
“Is this a trick?” he shouted, turning back.
“No trick,” I called. “See? Here’s the ribbon.” I held it up and tied it to a branch for the later runners to see.
I waited for Mike to pass me, and when he was a hundred yards ahead again, I started running. Even so, I figured I’d gained a small advantage, since I’d had a short rest and hadn’t gone quite as far. My breathing was easier, and slowly I managed to lessen the distance between us.
Mike went up and over the last hill. In the distance I heard a cheer as the crowd sighted him. I topped the hill and saw that he wasn’t more than fifty feet ahead.
I’m going to catch him, I thought. He was almost staggering, and I urged my legs to move faster.
The gap closed. Mike glanced back, saw me coming, and made one last effort. With two feet to spare, he crossed the finish line ahead of me.
I walked around slowly to catch my breath. Dad was standing near the finish line, recording names as later runners crossed, and he gave me a thumbs-up signal. I knew that he didn’t mind that my name wouldn’t be on the trophy—but it sure would have been nice.
When I saw Mike recovering, I went over to congratulate him. “Good race,” I said, “but just wait till next year!”
He gave me a funny look. “Why’d you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Call me back to the trail. And then give me a head start.”
I shrugged. “It was only fair,” I said. “You were ahead, and the ribbon had fallen, but I knew where to go.”
“But you’d have beaten me.”
“It wouldn’t have been right,” I said. “Not that way. You’d have done the same thing.”
“I don’t know, really,” Mike said, his smile uncertain. “What I know for sure is that I hope I would have.”
“What I know,” Dad said, coming up to us, “is that you’re both winners in my book!”