Gospel Story Finder

Sometimes we feel that we don’t have any particularly important gifts. One day, a discouraged sister pleaded, “Lord, what is my personal ministry?” He answered, “Notice others.” It was a spiritual gift! Since then, she has found joy in noticing those who are regularly forgotten, and God has worked through her to bless many. While some spiritual gifts may not be prominent by the world’s standards, they are essential to God and His work.7

In preparation for my first trip to the temple, my mother and experienced Relief Society sisters helped me select the items I would need, including beautiful ceremonial clothing. But the most important preparation came even before knowing what to wear. After interviewing me to determine if I was worthy, my bishop explained the covenants I would make. His careful explanation gave me the chance to think about and be prepared to make those covenants.

When the day came, I participated with a feeling of gratitude and peace. Even though I did not understand the full significance of the covenants I made, I did know that I was bound to God through those covenants and was promised blessings I could scarcely comprehend if I kept them. Since that first experience, I have been continually assured that keeping the covenants we make with God allows us to draw upon the Savior’s power, which strengthens us in our inevitable trials, provides protection from the adversary’s influence, and prepares us for eternal glory.

The youth of the Aaronic Priesthood MIA in the Minneapolis Third Ward, Minneapolis Minnesota Stake recently proved with their Turn of the Century Party that there really isn’t a generation gap. The feeling among the youth was that the older people had a lot to contribute but were sometimes overlooked or forgotten.
Each of the classes was assigned one person born before the turn of the century. They could do for that person whatever the class felt was appropriate. Much thought and many phone calls and visits followed as the youth made preparations. At the conclusion of one such visit an elderly gentleman, tears in his eyes, said to the youth, “My home has been blessed by having you here. Thank you for remembering me.”
The night of the program each honored guest spoke. Some told stories of their early days in the ward, others recited poetry, and some simply shared with everyone their joy at seeing one another again. The Boy Scout Band brought back memories with their musical renditions of “Bicycle Built for Two” and “Black and White.” At the conclusion of the program each guest was presented with a gift from his class. Also remembered with gifts were three members of the ward who were bedridden and unable to attend.
Ward members agreed that testimonies were strengthened by the knowledge that it is more blessed to give than to receive.

Mark Peterson was ordained a deacon one Sunday last March. When the family returned from church, the telephone rang. It was the deacons president who asked for an appointment for the presidency of the deacons quorum to visit with Mark and with his parents. The appointment was set. Promptly at the hour set, the doorbell rang. The members of the presidency stood on the porch, dressed in suits, white shirts, and ties, and each one carrying his scriptures.

Sitting down with Mark and his parents, they began with prayer, then handed an agenda to everyone there.

The president then opened the scriptures, having Mark and his father read those references which speak of the power of the Aaronic Priesthood, what it is, and the particular duties of a deacon.

The president then spoke about Mark’s particular responsibilities and duties: how he should dress, how he should pass the sacrament, act as a messenger, collect fast offerings. And then they asked him if he had any questions.

At the end of the visit they welcomed him to the quorum and offered help whenever he needed it. As they left, Mark’s eyes were as big as saucers. He said to his Dad: “They were awesome!”

A relative asked Elder Spencer W. Kimball for a blessing to combat a crippling disease. For some time Elder Kimball prepared himself spiritually; then, fasting, he was prompted to bless her to be healed. Some weeks later she returned, angry and complaining that she was “fed up” with waiting for the Lord to give the promised relief.
He responded: “Now I understand why you have not been blessed. You must be patient, do your part, and express gratitude for the smallest improvement noted.”
She repented, followed scrupulously his counsel, and eventually was made well.

“Is anyone still awake?” The first time I asked, I had received two whispered responses in the affirmative. Now, hours later, the silence answered that I was the last one in the room who couldn’t get to sleep.
It was my first night in the Missionary Training Center (MTC). That day, I had said good-bye to my parents, met my companion and the other new missionaries going to Italy, and been to the first set of classes. I was exhausted, but my mind was spinning with anxiety. “What have I gotten myself into?” I asked myself over and over. I didn’t know if I could really learn to be a missionary. Would I have the courage to fly to a foreign country and talk to strangers about the gospel? Maybe I wasn’t supposed to be here. Tears started to roll down my cheeks.
Then I remembered something my mom had told me about her brother Larry. Uncle Larry served his mission in Uruguay and Paraguay in the 1970s. At first he had spent sleepless nights worrying about his inadequacies. When he felt like he couldn’t bear it anymore, he would get out of his bed, go into the bathroom, and kneel down to plead with Heavenly Father for peace. Somehow, with the Lord’s help, Uncle Larry made it through and served a faithful mission.
I felt some hope at this thought and crept down the hall to the bathroom. In the dim light, I knelt on the cold tile floor and sobbed. I begged Heavenly Father to grant me a feeling of peace so that I could have the courage to move forward.
I waited. Nothing happened. I waited some more, hearing only the sound of my crying. Finally, there was nothing to do but go back to bed.
In the moment before I fell asleep, the answer came. The Spirit filled my mind with a bright, warm impression of a beautiful place. Suddenly I knew that although I might have a hard time with fear in the beginning, if I pressed forward, I would get to where the Lord meant me to be. The thought filled me with peace, and I fell asleep.
The Spirit had hinted of beautiful things ahead. In hard moments during my stay at the MTC, I closed my eyes and remembered what I had felt. With prayer and hard work, I outlasted my fears.
It wasn’t long before I found myself in Genoa, Italy, with my new companion. In the kitchen of our apartment was a glass door that led to a balcony. I stepped out on the balcony and gazed at the city. I already knew and loved this city. This was the place I had seen in my mind’s eye that night at the MTC. I knew the Lord had led me to this moment, and I was right where I belonged.

Once when Grandma and Grandpa Wakefield were visiting us from Minnesota, we watched some eggs that were hatching on the wall of our house. Right beside the egg case a spider had built a nest; and whenever a small mantis came out, the spider would dash over and bite him, spin him up in a web like a mummy, and pull him over to his nest. I wanted to squash that spider, but Grandpa said that spiders need to live too.

I don’t recall his name, but his shy and diffident young face comes clearly to mind. He was smaller and heavier than the other boys in his team, and I remember the look of fatigue on his face as he straggled behind the rest as they approached my outpost.
I recognized the look. It reminded me of myself and how I must have looked to the staff at the Philmont Scout Center in New Mexico years ago: the same chubby kid, the same struggle to keep up with the more athletic boys. I continued to watch him, his adviser following along closely, urging him on.
“C’mon,” he said optimistically. “We’re almost there.”
The boy didn’t have enough breath to answer.
The team had just arrived at Alpine Climbers Outpost. I welcomed them to the camp, introduced myself as the outpost director and rock climbing instructor, and gave them some information about setting up the campsite. As they set about their chores, I wasn’t surprised to see the chubby kid bunking with the team leader, just like I used to have to.
After a sack lunch, the whole group of us, loaded with ropes and gear, headed for an afternoon of adventure on the nearby cliffs. All the boys talked wildly with one another, hyping themselves up for what promised to be the highlight of their weeklong trek. I was pleased to see that even the chubby kid was caught up in the bold talk and in the adventurous spirit of the moment. Unfortunately, it lasted only as long as the hike to the area where the climb would begin.
Soon we were standing at the base of the cliff—a 75-foot high volcanic wedge, vaulting straight up from the canyon floor. I pointed out to the group the climbing route we would use, watching as the courage of my young friend fizzled away. He retreated from the base of the rocks, repeating over and over that he wouldn’t be caught dead climbing on those cliffs. I had no choice but to leave him alone for a while, or at least until my aides and I had the other boys climbing and the program well underway. When I finally got back to him, he was sitting alone in the shade by the stream, quietly watching the other boys climb as he lethargically tossed pebbles into the bubbling water.
“Are you ready to give it a try?”
“I can’t do it,” he said quietly.
“I don’t want you to ‘do’ it. I just want you to get on the ropes and try.”
“I’m afraid I’ll fall,” he admitted, and he started to cry a little.
“Oh, that just means you’re normal,” I joked. “I’ll tell you what. You get on the ropes and give it your best, and I’ll belay you myself. You can trust me. I never drop anybody.”
Eventually he agreed to my conditions, and I put him next in line so that he wouldn’t have any time to change his mind. We quickly got him into a harness, and I climbed up to take my position at the belay station.
“Climber on belay,” he hesitantly yelled up.
“Belay on,” I called back reassuringly.
There was a moment’s pause.
“Climbing.”
“Climb on,” I replied.
Getting up the first 20 feet of this climb is easy, and though he was nervous and hesitant, he got to the first ledge just fine. Now he had reached the difficult part of the climb. At this point, hand and foot holds are scarce, and a slight overhang allows gravity to pull awkwardly at the body’s weight, making balance difficult and creating an illusion of instability. A person climbing this for the first time usually finds it quite a challenge, but one that can be overcome with a good attempt.
My young climber didn’t agree. He froze, and for a long time clung to the rock in fear, repeating over and over, “I can’t do it, I can’t do it,” despite my assurances that he could. At one point, he asked if I would let him back down, but I hesitated, hoping that he would somehow gather up enough courage to try harder.
Then, after a moment of what I remember to be complete silence, he called up to me in a tearful voice, “Are you sure you’ve got me?”
“I’ve got you,” I replied calmly. “You ain’t goin’ nowhere but up!”
I felt the rope move as the boy ascended a bit, and I pulled with all my strength, hoping to relieve his arms and legs of a portion of his weight. He pushed himself a little higher, and again I took up the slack. Suddenly there was a tug on the rope that unmistakably signaled a fall. I jammed my thumb into the rope and pulled it tightly around my waist in order to hold the weight of the boy, who was now dangling safely below.
“You caught me,” he cried, thanking me over and over as he regained his hold on the rock.
“I told you I would.” And I added, “Piece of cake.”
I then remembered the conditions we had set before he started, and now that he had tried his hardest, I thought I’d better let him down.
“Okay,” I said. “Are you ready to go back down now?”
His answer delighted me.
“No, I’ll keep going.”
With renewed faith in the rope and a fresh burst of adrenalin, he resumed his climb. I’ve never seen anyone, before or since, work so hard and with such driving desire to get up that rock. It was still difficult for him, and he lost his hold again and again, but he persisted, encouraged on by the cheers of everyone around. After a long, hard struggle he made it to the top, and we helped him to a position away from the edge before he and I unfastened the rope that held us together. Relaxing in the shade of a nearby aspen, we sat together and caught our breath, reveling in the joy and the thrill of his accomplishment.
Then he said something that amazed me. “Let’s do it again.”
I learned the power of self-confidence from a small, chubby young man who at first doubted his abilities, then wouldn’t give up. I belayed him as he came up the second time, calm and full of confidence that he could overcome the obstacle. He made it to the top, of course, but without a single fall and without any help from me. I never would have believed that it was the same person coming up that second time, and yet there he was, poking his head up over the top. I guess in a way he really was a different person. He climbed knowing that he could make it. He learned to try when he was afraid of failure, and this ability would help him overcome more challenges in life than just a rock cliff.

I’ll never forget, as a bishop, sitting across the desk from a man who had, with his wife, just celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary. He painfully confessed that he and his wife had been involved in pre-marital sex over 50 years before. For 50 years, they could have been enjoying the happiness and joy that comes with the purifying effects of the atonement! Even after 50 years, the confession was painful; it was not “fun” but finally they were able to enjoy the complete redeeming power of the Savior’s love.

The six years President Eyring spent in Rexburg proved to be a blessing to his family and the college. Wise counsel from a humble home teacher helped make those years memorable. The home teacher, a farmer with great faith, encouraged President Eyring to get out of his office so he could meet, encourage, and give gratitude to college faculty, staff, and students.
Hal prayed about the matter, felt prompted to follow that counsel, and began spending more time with the school’s faithful students and dedicated faculty and staff. With another instructor, he even taught religion classes. As he worked hard to shape the college’s spiritual and academic foundations, he and Kathleen grew to love the campus community and the people of Rexburg.

In a letter to the editor of the Upper Valley Standard Journal, dated November 3, 2012, a man named Ron Merchant, from Jackson, Mississippi, wrote about an experience he had while passing through the upper valley with his wife a few months earlier. His vehicle had broken down in Rexburg and this was his experience.

I walked into an auto parts house in Rexburg, Idaho, and while there a young man gave me a spoof by asking where I was from - obviously because of my Southern drawl.
The young man followed me outside, along with his girlfriend. He explained that he was a diesel mechanic and he would help me install the part.
Being a skeptical person (and especially skeptical of Mormons) I declined the offer. He assured me he would do it at no charge whatsoever. With that, all the negative flags shot straight upwards!
He then explained that he was a twenty-three year old student at the nearby Brigham Young University-Idaho. He had recently finished a two year tour as a missionary for his Church. He also said that his dad had taught him to help other people free of charge, since that was what religion was all about.
With that, I relented. And, sure enough, he adamantly refused any money at all. I finally convinced him to take a $20 bill and treat his girlfriend to a Coke.
As I rode down the road, I thought about the young man and the integrity of his religion.[10]

Several years ago, while preparing for a business trip, I began to experience chest pain. Out of concern, my wife decided to accompany me. On the first leg of our flight, the pain intensified to the point that it was difficult for me to breathe. When we landed, we left the airport and went to the local hospital, where, after multiple tests, the attending physician declared us safe to continue our travel.
We returned to the airport and boarded a flight to our final destination. As we were descending, the pilot came on the intercom and asked me to identify myself. The flight attendant approached, said they had just received an emergency call, and told me there was an ambulance waiting at the airport to take me to the hospital.
We boarded the ambulance and were rushed to the local emergency room. There we were met by two anxious doctors who explained that I had been misdiagnosed and actually had a serious pulmonary embolism, or blood clot, in my lung, which required immediate medical attention. The doctors informed us that many patients do not survive this condition. Knowing we were far from home and not sure if we were prepared for such life-altering events, the doctors said that if there was anything in our lives that we needed to consider, now was the time.
I remember well how almost instantaneously in that anxious moment, my entire perspective changed. What seemed so important just moments earlier was now of little interest. My mind raced away from the comfort and cares of this life to an eternal perspective—thoughts of family, children, my wife, and ultimately an assessment of my own life.
How were we doing as a family and individually? Were we living our lives consistent with the covenants we had made and the Lord’s expectations, or had we perhaps unintentionally allowed the cares of the world to distract us from those things which matter most?
I would invite you to consider an important lesson learned from this experience: to step back from the world and assess your life. Or in the words of the doctor, if there is anything in your life you need to consider, now is the time.

“Missionaries from the Western United States knocked on my door in England many years ago. After telling my wife and me that they were representatives of the Lord Jesus Christ, they told us that the Book of Mormon was the word of God and that it had been translated from ancient records by the power of God. They told us how this wonderful book came to be. As I looked at it, a warm feeling came over me and I knew that the writings were true. I still had to read more and then pray before I knew that the young boy, Joseph Smith, whom the Lord used to translate the Book of Mormon, was indeed a prophet. My family and I were baptized. A desire to know the truth, coupled with study and prayer, gave me a testimony. Everyone can receive the same blessing through study and prayer. President Benson has challenged every member of the Church to read the Book of Mormon every day because it will bring us nearer to our Heavenly Father and Jesus than any other book.”

Last August, I had an important decision to make. I could either go to Young Women camp with my ward or attend a volleyball camp. I would be trying out for the volleyball team at school, and the volleyball camp was highly encouraged. It showed you were dedicated if you attended it. I had been praying about whether I should go to Young Women camp or volleyball camp. I had a strong impression to go to Young Women camp.
The biggest lesson I learned at Young Women camp was about blessings we receive when we follow the Lord. The following week, I went to tryouts. I made the volleyball team and progressed to varsity at the end of the season. My testimony grew immensely. I know whenever we are faced with decisions, we can pray and receive answers.

By November 1941, German forces had penetrated as far as Moscow and Leningrad. That month Alexandria married a Russian soldier who had escaped from captivity. With war at their heels, they fled north to live with Alexandria’s husband’s family. But soon the war reached them, and they and many other families were forced to hide in the nearby forest for four months.
Often Alexandria would not see her husband for days. Along with many other young men, he had joined an underground resistance force that attacked enemy convoys. Alexandria feared for his life but was powerless to do anything about it. Further darkening her condition was the resentment her in-laws felt towards her. Because she was from the Ukraine and spoke a different language, they considered her inferior. “It was all very depressing,” she recalls. “I cried all the time.”
One night Alexandria’s husband came home and gave her the shock of her life: not only did he tell her that he had joined the Nazis, but he also demanded that she leave and never return. Alexandria, frightened by her husband’s threatening, hostile behavior, left. She never saw him again.

Playing with dolls might seem like a silly thing for a Laurel to be involved with, but Kancie Schaefer, a member of the Pleasant View Ninth Ward, Provo Utah Sharon East Stake, knew that dolls would be a great way to send her love and friendship to places where she couldn’t go. For a Laurel project, Kancie organized several “doll days” where she and several other girls in her ward made rag dolls to be sent to Africa and the Philippines.
“If I could meet one of the little girls that receives a doll, I’d tell her how much I love her and that the doll is straight from my heart to hers,” says Kancie.

When you see Madilyn Paige perform, you would never guess the 20-year-old once suffered from paralyzing stage fright. At age 16, she faced her fear by trying out for the singing competition The Voice. She made it to the finals, where her voice enchanted judges and viewers alike.
Since then, Madilyn has released singles and is soon to release an album. She continues performing at venues like the Stadium of Fire in Provo, Utah, USA, and keeps chasing her dream to spread light and share uplifting messages through her music.
“I think music is a superpower. I feel so fortunate that I’ve been blessed with this gift. I want to use it to bring hope and happiness to people.”

There was a time in our lives when my wife, Ceci, and I did not attend church regularly. But we missed the Church, and finally I decided to fast and pray to know if our Heavenly Father would permit us to return to his fold.
A short time later, the doorbell rang when I was having my personal prayers. It was our branch president, President Pinos. He had come to ask me to be a counselor in the branch presidency. My prayer had been answered, and I knew that my Heavenly Father still loved me as his son. I felt that warm feeling which comes only from God.

Brother Dalebe Martin Goury of Nigeria shares the following personal experience:
“In April 1993, I was a new convert to the Church, living in a foreign country, working every hour possible while attending university. I was studying mechanical engineering. Having been taught the law of tithing, I started paying a full and honest tithe from the day I received the lesson. I had been a member of the Church for three weeks when we were asked to come to our courses with a programmable engineering calculator. With my little resources, I realized that I needed to save a certain amount each week for 12 weeks without paying my tithing to be able to afford the materials required. If I did not purchase them, I would struggle to be on the same level as other student.
“Usually, I would give my tithing envelope to the bishop or to any of his counsellors as soon as I arrived at the chapel, but that Sunday I kept the envelope till the end—as I was debating what to do. I was so tempted to return home with the tithing money and start saving. As my mind was racing with what to do at the end of the third hours, I receive this strong feeling that I had made a covenant. I felt overwhelmed by the feeling and went to the bishop’s office and handed in my tithing envelope. I never explained why I was late handing in my tithing this time. Then I went home.
“The following week, my resolve was strong this time and I handed in my tithing as soon as I arrived at the chapel. The following Sunday, I did the same thing. Even though things were a bit difficult at the university, I was happy and peaceful because I had paid a full and honest tithe every week.
“At the end of the second week, the first counsellor of the bishopric, who studied engineering, requested to see me. I do not know how he knew that I was in a desperate need of a programmable calculator. However, these were his words: ‘I heard you are doing a degree in mechanical engineering. I completed an engineering degree a few years ago and still have the calculator I had to purchase. I no longer have need of it. Would you like it?’
“When he brought the calculator out, I noticed that it was 10 times better than the one I would have purchased after 12 weeks of saving money. How did he know my needs? Only my Father in Heaven knew. This confirmed for me the promises of the Lord in Malachi 3:10.”
Brother Goury passed the test of whether he loved and trusted our Father in Heaven over all other things. He did this by living the law of the tithe when it seemed that doing so would frustrate his goals. After some patience and persistence in obeying the commandment, he received help sent by our loving Heavenly Father. Those who follow Brother Goury’s example will learn by their own experience that “if it so be that the children of men keep the commandments of God he doth nourish them, and strengthen them, and provide means whereby they can accomplish the thing which he has commanded them” (1 Nephi 17:3).

As Margaret pointed out in her introduction today, when I first started teaching, I had the good fortune to be in a department where excellence in teaching was the standard. With the help of colleagues, I devised a plan by which I could learn from them by sitting in on their classes, being part of a teaching group, and having them periodically sit in on my classes. To those efforts, I added my own diligent preparation and follow up. While the investment required in those early years was substantial, it made all the difference in my rate of progress and my acceptance by both students and faculty. Once again, I learned that the Lord is true to His promise – the harvest was great because of the investment and preparations that had been made.