Gospel Story Finder

When I was 17, I was attending a Protestant church I had found two years earlier. It was the first place where I formally learned about God and Jesus Christ. Around that time, I was traveling on a bus one day when a guy sat down beside me. He told me he had just been released from jail and talked about feeling like he could never enter any church again. At that moment, I knew that God had sent me there to meet that man, and I encouraged him, telling him that he should find a church.
As we talked, I told him I was studying to go to school for psychology. But then I blurted out that I might study journalism. He said, “You really look like a journalist—you should do that!” I found that strange because I had never thought about being a journalist before. The thought seemed to have come out of nowhere.
Two months later, the test that would allow me to go to the university to study psychology was coming up. One night I realized I wasn’t sure about my decision anymore. I was shocked because I wasn’t interested in pursuing anything else. Then I remembered the conversation with that man on the bus. I didn’t know anything about journalism schools, but I found the website for one in my state. Coincidentally, that day was the last day to register. Without thinking twice, I took the chance. And long story short: I just finished journalism school.
I didn’t realize it at the time, but I know now that God was leading me through personal revelation in deciding what to study. I feel like I have always been blessed with awareness for what God wants for me—what kinds of opportunities and situations He sets in my life to show me the path He wants me to follow.

Almost two years ago, wallowing with the muddy pigs in the onslaught of the big typhoon, a trip to China had seemed a remote possibility.
Since that night, Yung Fai had not smoked one cigarette. Staying away from the racetrack would have been tough if it hadn’t been for the rebuilding of their house, which took every spare minute and dollar. Members of his sister’s church had showed up every day to help them. At first, Yung Fai had balked at staying with a church member while their house was being reconstructed. But the bed was so dry and the rice so moist that he soon forgot his apprehensions.

Another faith promoting experience I remember during this time period was trying to get water for the school. During the first year of operation, they had to truck in all the water because even though they had a big supply, the government would not give them a permit. Everyday, this big water truck, much like the big gas trucks that deliver fuel to the service stations, would make trips all day long between the pump and the water tank at the school. The church had purchased a ranch to build the school, and the water could only be used for the ranch. One of the church authorities was soon visiting to decide if they would be able to continue and even be able to have a church school. All the school workers and all the students decided to have a special fast and have everyone pray for the permit to be granted. The government had never granted this type of permit, and yet after the fast they gave the church permission to use the water for both ranching and for the school. On the way out of the government office building one of the government workers asked my father how much he had to pay as a bribe to get the permit. He was stunned when my father told him nothing had been paid. When he arrived back with the good news a young girl who was a student came up and asked if it would be appropriate to hold another fast and thank the Lord. What a beautiful feeling for everyone to be a part of this experience.

The Grant Third Ward youth committee terrified its way to a lot of money with a Halloween spook house. The location was Brigham Young’s Carriage House. The production featured such treats as a man having his legs sawed off, a girl’s severed head speaking from the oven of a kitchen range, a zoo of starving children, coffins full and empty, electric shocks, horrifying sounds, and other thrills. The funds will be used to sponsor a youth conference.

My first contact with the Liahona was when a friend—who later became my husband—brought me a copy when he returned to the United States from serving a mission in Argentina and Chile. Later when I served a mission in Chile, I loved the magazine and was grateful that the members had it to help them build their faith. Now as a senior missionary in Tonga, I use it in the classes I teach at church. Thank you for the Liahona!Sister Mary Lou Ellsworth, Tonga Nuku‘alofa Mission

The Brethren gathered in that meeting listened with anticipation, for a number of vacancies among the General Authorities were to be filled at the approaching conference. The First Presidency called a new member of the Quorum of the Twelve, Elder Boyd K. Packer, and then Joseph heard, to his amazement, his own name. The Lord had called him to serve as an Assistant to the Quorum of the Twelve. He looked up with surprise and wondered if he had heard correctly. All the Brethren were looking at him—the men whom he had felt it an honor to serve—and realized that he was now to be numbered with them. “Nothing was further from my mind,” he said later.

Isabelle loved to pray! In the morning she said a “good morning” prayer. She thanked Heavenly Father for the sunshine and a new day.
At lunchtime Isabelle told Heavenly Father about her day so far. She prayed for help to be nice to her sisters when they got home from school.
At bedtime Isabelle’s family prayed together. They always started by talking about people who might need extra blessings.
Tonight Daddy said, “Please pray for Uncle Dan. He lost his job.”
Isabelle felt sad. She didn’t know a lot about grown-up work, but she knew that losing a job was bad. She loved her uncle. He made yummy popcorn. And last time he came over, he showed her how to do a cartwheel!
“I’ll pray for him to find a job,” Maria said. She was one of Isabelle’s older sisters. It was her turn to pray out loud for the family.
The next day, Isabelle asked Daddy if Uncle Dan found a job yet.
“Not yet,” Daddy said. “Sometimes prayers aren’t answered right away.”
“So should we keep praying for him?” Isabelle asked.
Daddy nodded. “That would mean a lot to Uncle Dan.”
Every day, Isabelle and her sisters prayed for Uncle Dan. They prayed for him to find a job. They prayed for him to have enough money. They prayed for him to feel loved.
Isabelle was glad she could help Uncle Dan with her prayers. Praying for him made her happy.
Her family helped Uncle Dan in other ways too. One day they helped Uncle Dan clean his house. Another day, Isabelle and Mommy stopped by to watch a movie with Uncle Dan.
Weeks went by. Finally Daddy had good news.
“Uncle Dan has two job interviews this week!” Daddy said.
Isabelle felt happy. She was glad she could pray for the people she loved.
What did Isabelle do to help Uncle Dan?
See Come, Follow Me for Enos–Words of Mormon.

When I was 15, I auditioned for a play at school. I tried out for the lead role, but in the end, I didn’t get the part.
To make things worse, the teacher had already cast all the smaller roles, so there wasn’t a part for me at all. She made me the Student Director, and because she felt bad, she also added a new part—I got to come on stage for about 30 seconds as a silent nun.
Yep. I cried.
Looking back, I realize the Savior helped me through that disappointing time. He strengthened me to keep a good attitude and develop more humility. In the end, I enjoyed my time in the ninth-grade play.

The lesson I learned from this experience became even more important many years later when I had five teenage children of my own. Like many families, we occasionally found our family relationships a little strained or uneven. On one such occasion I felt like the key to family harmony was for my children to see things my way and act in ways I thought were right. They were not doing anything bad, I just felt they should change their attitudes to conform more closely to mine. To me, that seemed like the answer, but as I pondered the solution, the Lord spoke to me through my feelings. In my heart and mind came the message, “It is better to be one than to be right.”
I wasn’t quite sure what that meant. But I heard and felt it. After a lot of thought and prayer, I began to understand that it was more important for our family to be one than it was for me to be right. That realization pierced me to the core, and I could see that even if I were right about how things ought to be done, that knowledge alone would not bless my family. I remembered that the Lord had said, “Be one; and if ye are not one ye are not mine” (D&C 38:27). I realized that the only way to gain what we all really wanted was for us to be one and that if I insisted on holding to what I perceived as the moral high ground, we would not likely resolve our differences.
Most importantly, the message implied that I shouldn’t be expecting my children to change: I needed to change. Suddenly I could see that if I would change and do the things that would make us one as a family, everything would work out. The Lord truly helped me, and almost overnight I began to change. I focused on loving my children without conditions, without expecting them to change. I simply wanted to love them—and for them to love me.
That was not a dramatic change, but it was an important change of heart and mind. As my children became aware of the transformation taking place in their father, it was surprising how quickly we became one again. The strains we were experiencing just melted away. Harmony returned. Once again our home became a place of love.
Since those long-ago days my children have all married and now have their own families, and as parents my wife and I take such delight in them. We are all such good friends—best friends. My prayers were answered. Not the prayer to change my children, which is what I prayed for at first, but for the change that came over me as a result of my prayers. The Lord answered my prayers by helping me change.

One night a family watched a terrible storm from their home near a beach. Huge waves crashed against the shore, breaking apart the family’s wooden boat dock. The next morning the family found pieces of the dock along the shoreline. But their boat was floating unharmed in the water. It was held in place by a strong anchor. The anchor had kept the boat from crashing into the shore and being destroyed.