Gospel Story Finder

1 Once upon a time there lived a dinosaur. He was a brontosaur and his name was Ben. Ben was sad and went all around the lake wishing he had something to do.
2 One day he saw a pretty girl dinosaur. She was a brontosaur too. He was surprised!
3 He shyly nodded his head. “What is your name?” he asked politely.
“My name is Sabrina,” she said.
4 Tyrannosaurus Rex was king of the meat-eating dinosaurs because he was the biggest. He was mean and often ate other dinosaurs.
One day he started to attack Sabrina while she was eating leaves off a tree. She had not seen him.
5 Ben liked Sabrina so he quickly ran up to Rex and shouted loudly, “Ha-a-a-a-a-a-a-h!”
6 Then he yelled to Sabrina, “Run fast to the water!”
7 Ben surprised Rex so much that he tripped and fell over a cliff into a mud puddle! Rex didn’t bother Ben or Sabrina ever again.
Sabrina said, “You’re so brave! Will you marry me?”
8 Ben became shy again, bowed his head and said, “A-a-um, I—I g—guess sooo!”
And they lived happily ever after together by the lake.

Many in the Methodist congregation where Elder Pratt preached were thrilled with his message until he told them of the Prophet Joseph Smith and the gold plates. Several of the men refused to listen further. John Taylor reminded them: “We are here, ostensibly in search of truth. Hitherto we have fully investigated other creeds and doctrines and proven them false. Why should we fear to investigate Mormonism? This gentleman, Mr. Pratt, has brought to us many doctrines that correspond with our own views. … We have prayed to God to send us a messenger, if He has a true Church on earth. … If I find his religion true, I shall accept it, no matter what the consequences may be.”3
John Taylor continued investigating the gospel, and on 9 May 1836 he and Leonora were baptized. In his later years, President Taylor remarked, “When I had investigated the subject, and became convinced that it was true, I said, ‘I am in for it; I must embrace it; I cannot reject the principles of eternal truth.’”4

Are these training sessions effective?
Yes, say the young men and their priesthood leaders. Randy Beddes, a priest from Lovell, Wyoming, remembers that when he was deacons quorum president, he tried to do everything himself—planning all the special activities, making all the arrangements, running the whole program. “But I’ve learned that there’s a better way to do things,” he says. Now, as the bishop’s first assistant in the priest quorum, he makes a lot of assignments to others, giving clear instructions on what is expected, and providing an opportunity for following up. “We get a lot more done” says Randy, “and a lot more priests get involved.”

Recently, I visited the mother of a large family, whom I have known and admired for many years. I have watched her children grow and develop. Education, missions, temple marriages were all part of their program. I asked her what was the secret of her success. Modestly, she told me that success had not yet been achieved, that life was a continual series of tests and challenges. But she did indicate that keeping close family ties had been very important in their lives.

She said, “We have recognized that each family member needs to be treated with dignity and respect. Though the capabilities and talents of each are different, each needs to know he or she is a child of God, loved by Him. We hold regular family conferences (even after the children are married). We feel since the Church has general conference for the edification and instruction of the saints, we need to have family conferences for the same purpose. The have truly strengthened the love in our family.”

Thirty-seven years after her baptism, with a heart firmly fixed through persecutions in Missouri and the eventual assassination of Joseph Smith, Eliza remained a committed Latter-day Saint. On June 22, 1872, she shared about her conversion with a group of women in Salt Lake City, Utah, USA: “When I heard it announced that the Lord had spoken from heaven and a record had been brought forth I was deeply interested. I prayed unto the Lord to let me know if the work were true, covenanting with him if he did so that I would ever praise his name.” After her baptism, she said, she attended Church meetings. “We were called upon to speak; I dared not refuse for I had promised God I would ever praise his name in the congregation of the Saints.”8 Her continual conversion required her continued witness.

We were introduced to the Church by our neighbor who sang songs that we later learned were hymns. Our neighbor told us about a wonderful place called Primary, where children learned to sing. The missionaries were contacted, and they started visiting our home to teach us.

However, my dad had strong feelings against the Church and about his children being taught by the missionaries. Being a small boy, I never understood what those two elders went through to bring the gospel into our lives. Dad would kick them out if he found them at our home, and he would deliberately turn off the lights if the elders stopped by in the evening. Just as my dad was relentless in trying to stop the missionaries from teaching, Thelma was twice as determined to learn about the gospel and read the Book of Mormon. Thelma and the elders never gave up, and for this I am thankful.

Going to church was a struggle because Dad tried to stop us by using a variety of tactics, such as requiring that we do chores before we could leave for church.

One Sunday morning was particularly hard. He did not want to let us go, but we refused to be stopped. He kicked a garbage can and spilled its contents all over the floor we had just cleaned. Thelma quietly began picking up the garbage without complaining. After she had cleaned the floor again, she asked if we could go to church. We had finished all the chores and more, but he still did not want to give his permission. Finally he asked pointedly, “Why do you insist on going to this church anyway?” Thelma then bore a powerful testimony of the truthfulness of the gospel and of the message of the Restoration of the gospel. As she concluded, my dad waved his hand and gave his permission.

Dad never tried to stop us again after this incident and eventually, even though he did not like it, gave his consent for us to join the Church.

NARRATOR: When inspiring words unite with noble and stirring music, art is raised to worship. There is perhaps no better blending of artistic talent in LDS hymns than in those created by Eliza R. Snow and George Careless. Five times the products of their combined pens appear in our hymnbook. Of these, none excels the hymn “Though Deepening Trials.”
Written in 1838 or 39 when the Saints were being driven from their homes in Missouri, the poem offers strength, encouragement, and hope. Having experienced persecution, first in Kirtland and then Missouri, Eliza R. Snow understood the need for comfort, assurance, and hope for better times. From the depths of anguish and despair rose the lofty expression of hope and courage:
“Press on, press on, ye Saints …
The time at longest is not long …
Though tribulations rage abroad,
Christ says, ‘In me ye shall have peace.’”
Just as these noble thoughts found life in the midst of despair, so too did the music. George Careless had endured a long illness that had gradually sapped his physical as well as his spiritual strength.
In a mood of great despondency, he went first to the scriptures and then to his beloved hymnbook in an attempt to find some comfort and hope. As he read through the familiar words of the hymns he knew so well, he came at length to one of Eliza R. Snow’s that she called “Be Not Discouraged.” As he read through the words, they inspired him to write the music that has made this hymn one of our most popular. His spirits rose, his despair left, and when he was once again well, he called on his good friend, Horace K. Whitney, to suggest a title for it. Brother Whitney gave it the name, “Reliance.” (See Pyper, p. 140; Cornwall, p. 278.)
SONG: “Though Deepening Trials.” (Hymns, p. 285.)

When I was 17 years old, I faced heavy peer pressure at my high school. The friends that I did have didn’t share my values. My friends and I participated in many appropriate activities together like playing basketball or football. But they also drank alcohol and smoked—two activities I didn’t do with them.
One day a group of us was outside of our school studying for a test we would take later that day. With me were two of my closest friends, Juan and Francisco (names have been changed). At one point, someone got out lighters and cigarettes. I thought my friends had gotten bored with studying and had forgotten I was there. I learned I was wrong when they turned to me and said, “Now is the time for Hugo to learn how to smoke.”
Before I even had the chance to react, Juan and Francisco leapt toward me and took me by the arms, one on each side. They held my arms down as someone pressed a cigarette between my lips. My body immediately rejected this, and I spit the cigarette on the ground, far from me. Soon after, I felt the blow of a clenched fist squarely connect with my cheekbone. They threatened me, saying, “We’re going to light the cigarette again, and you’re going to learn to take the smoke. Don’t throw it on the ground. If you do, it’s not going to go well.”
In that moment, I knew I was in trouble. I closed my eyes and said a quick prayer asking for some type of help. As soon as I finished my prayer, our teacher’s car pulled up and parked near us. Our teacher got out of the car and asked us what we were doing. My friends released me. “We’re getting ready for the test,” they assured the teacher. We went into the school and took the test, and the situation ended.

There is a word in Japanese, mui, that, for me, captures this more faith-filled, contemplative sense of what it means to be still. It is comprised of two characters (??). The one on the left means “nothing” or “nothingness,” and the one on the right means “to do.” Together they mean “non-doing.” Taken literally, the word could be misinterpreted to mean “to do nothing” in the same way “to be still” can be misinterpreted as “not talking or moving.” However, like the phrase “to be still,” it has a higher meaning; for me it is a reminder to slow down and to live with greater spiritual awareness.
While serving in the Asia North Area Presidency with Elder Takashi Wada, I learned that his wife, Sister Naomi Wada, is an accomplished Japanese calligrapher. I asked Sister Wada if she would draw for me the Japanese characters for the word mui. I wanted to hang the calligraphy on my wall as a reminder to be still and to focus on the Savior. I was surprised when she did not readily agree to this seemingly simple request.
The next day, knowing that I had likely misunderstood her hesitance, Elder Wada explained that writing those characters would require a significant effort. She would need to ponder and meditate on the concept and the characters until she understood the meaning deeply in her soul and could give expression to these heartfelt impressions with each stroke of her brush. I was embarrassed that I had so casually asked her to do something so demanding. I asked him to convey my apologies to her for my ignorance and to let her know that I was withdrawing my request.
You can imagine my surprise and gratitude when upon my leaving Japan, Sister Wada, unsolicited, gifted to me this beautiful piece of calligraphy featuring the Japanese characters for the word mui. It now hangs prominently on the wall of my office, reminding me to be still and to seek the Lord every day with all my heart, might, mind, and strength. She had captured, in this selfless act, the meaning of mui, or stillness, better than any words could. Rather than mindlessly and dutifully drawing the characters, she approached her calligraphy with full purpose of heart and real intent.

To get to a remote branch in Saetsiwi on Tanna Island, Elders Nalin and Toa drove to and then hiked up a mountain for three hours, eating nothing but the coconuts they found along the way. But when they arrived at Saetsiwi, they couldn’t find the branch president. And then the rainstorm started.
Rain filled the rivers, which Elder Nalin knew would soon be impassable and dangerous. The elders got back to their truck as quickly as possible, knowing that they had to get off the mountain. The two missionaries crossed the first river safely, but at the second river, the truck got stuck. They pushed and even got others to help push, but the truck didn’t move.
Elder Nalin noticed another river flowing into theirs and just how much bigger it was. He later said, “Our river was still small, like it was waiting for us to get out.” But that wouldn’t last forever.
Both elders grew up in Vanuatu, where vehicles are usually rare and extremely expensive. So, for them, abandoning the truck didn’t seem like an option. But the water level was up to the door handles.
They called President Messick and asked what they should do.
President Messick replied, “Thank you for giving me a call. It’s OK! Leave the truck where it is and find a safe place now!”
Elder Toa and Elder Nalin faced challenges as they tried to reach the people on the island of Tanna who wanted to be baptized—including a sudden rainstorm that flooded the rivers they were crossing.
Elder Toa, the last one out of the truck, later said, “I looked in the back seat for my scriptures and the baptismal forms, and there was nothing. And I thought maybe Elder Nalin already took them.” If the forms were lost, the missionaries would have to go back to Éfaté to get new ones.
Then one of the people who had come to help started shouting. Elder Toa did not understand what he was saying. But Elder Nalin did since it was his native language. He yelled to his companion, “Get out of the truck, something is coming!”
Elder Toa climbed out the back door because the water had already reached the window in the front. The moment he got out, the river swept the truck downstream. As they watched the truck flow downhill, they could see the scriptures and baptismal forms in the back seat.
Elder Toa later said, “While we were still in the river, we called on the power of God to protect our scriptures and baptismal forms. We had faith that He could save them according to His will.”
“After our prayer, we knew everything was going to be fine,” Elder Toa later said.
The district president called and told Elders Toa and Nalin that the Saetsiwi branch president, the same man they couldn’t find earlier, had found their truck. The river had pushed it 820 feet (250 meters) from the main road, but while the engine was wet and the truck had to be towed for other repairs, the outside of the truck wasn’t dented or scratched. However, their lesson books, notebooks, and pamphlets were drenched and destroyed. “You could not read some of the words,” Elder Toa said.
But sitting on top of everything else, their scriptures and the interview forms were somehow dry and undamaged.
Though Elder Toa and Elder Nalin had abandoned the truck in the flooded river, it was later found. Though the engine needed repairs, the truck wasn’t dented or scratched. But most miraculous of all, the most important things they carried inside were undamaged.

After my family and I moved to a new state, I prayed constantly to find friends with whom I could talk about the gospel. As I prayed, I felt comforted, and a few months later I made some incredible friends. I can count on their support, and they have helped me to develop an even greater love for the gospel. I know that friends are important and they can make it easier for us to live the gospel.
Sarah P., 16, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

My great-grandfather was John Pack, one of the early members of the Church. One day he and his wife were surrounded by a mob of Mormon haters, and he was told to make a terrible choice: either he could say that he did not believe in the restored gospel and the Prophet Joseph Smith, or he would be shot on the spot. John Pack stood up straight, looked the men in the eye, and bore a strong testimony of the gospel and of the Prophet. One by one the members of the mob sneaked away, and the leader of the mob could get no one to carry out the evil deed.
John Pack, even at the threat of his life, chose the right and bore testimony of the truth. Ever since I first learned of that story, I have hoped that I would be willing, no matter what the temptation, to stand for what I know to be true and to always choose the right. John Pack’s example has been a source of strength for me.

In just a few years, the efforts of the Simarrón family bore great fruit. May 30, 1999, became a day of celebration in Guayacana when a large baptismal service was held. President Intriago recalls, “We arrived with Roberto Garcia, the mission president, and both participated in that glorious day, where on the beaches of the Canandé River, two missionaries baptized 60 people. Then, President Garcia on one side and I on another confirmed as members of the Church all who were baptized. It was a privilege that will never be erased from my life.”

“And what do Mormons believe about marriage?” my high school Spanish teacher asked me.
All of my classmates turned in their seats, listening for my answer. I gulped as I wondered how our class discussion had wandered from Don Quixote and Dulcinea to dating and marriage.
There wasn’t another member of the Church in the class. What should I say? How much detail should I give? Would everyone make fun of me if I talked about eternal marriage?
“We, uh … ,” I stammered, still uncertain what to say.
Just then, my friend Denise came to my rescue. “Mormons have a beautiful view of marriage,” she said. “They believe that marriages performed in their temples can last forever.”
“That is beautiful,” our teacher replied. Even my classmates seemed satisfied.
With that, class resumed and I was left wondering why I had been sweating over a question that my nonmember friend answered so easily.
As more people hear about the Church, Latter-day Saints will have more opportunities to answer questions about the gospel. In high school, I learned that we don’t have to give long answers, and we don’t have to be afraid. The beautiful, simple doctrines of the gospel speak for themselves.

I was going to do a cheer onstage at the school open house. When I got home, I went upstairs to try on my uniform. The skirt was too short. I went down and showed my mom. My mom called my dad and told him everything. He said that I should pray about it. I went back upstairs and asked Heavenly Father what I should do. When it was time to go, I wore pants. I missed the cheer, but I’m glad that I followed Heavenly Father and Jesus.

When Ali’s eighth birthday drew near, she asked her parents if she could be baptized on her birthday—she was too excited to wait a day longer! They were able to schedule it, so on July 11, 2000, she was baptized a member of the Church. She was delighted to have her Grandma and Grandpa Balsor in attendance. “My grandparents were so touched by the Spirit that they cried,” she said. After the baptism, her mother felt inspired to give them a copy of the Book of Mormon.

“I’ll race you to the church!” Mórmon said, pointing to the church steeple poking out above the palm trees. Then he ran as fast as he could to stay ahead of his younger brother, Morian.
The boys and their parents had already walked about a mile from their home, but Mórmon and Morian were still racing hard when they reached the metal gate outside their ward meetinghouse. They stopped to catch their breath.
Before they could decide who won, a boy called out to them, “Want to play futebol?”
Mórmon loved futebol, but he and his family were going to clean the ward building so it would be ready for church the next day.
Mórmon shook his head. “Not now—maybe later!” he called back.
Soon Mórmon and Morian were working hard. Mórmon moved chairs and swept floors with Papa while Morian mopped floors with Mama.
Later the boys were washing mirrors in the bathroom together. “I didn’t think I’d like cleaning the church, but it’s fun,” Morian said. “What about you, Mórmon? Is that why you came instead of playing futebol?”
Mórmon thought about Papa. He was the bishop of their ward, but he still took time to help clean the meetinghouse.
“I’m here because I want to be like Papa,” Mórmon said.
Then he thought about the missionaries in his ward. They were busy knocking on doors and sharing the Book of Mormon with others. They would invite people to come to church at the building the boys were cleaning.
I’m here because someday I want to serve a mission too, Mórmon thought. I can help the missionaries by getting the church ready.
Mórmon thought about tomorrow, when he and his brother would get up at 6:00 a.m., walk to church in their white shirts and ties, and prepare the chairs and songbooks in the Primary room.
I’m here because I want to serve in a Church calling, he thought.
Mórmon thought about how he would soon be a deacon. He would pass the sacrament and do many other things to serve.
I’m here because next year I will receive the priesthood, and I want to do everything I can now to get ready.
Mórmon had already done something to prepare for the priesthood: he had earned his Faith in God Award. He was already learning to live the gospel and serve others.
Finally he looked at his brother’s reflection in the mirror and smiled.
“I’m here because I love the Lord,” he said, “and because serving now will help me get ready to serve later.”

In my home I learned to work hard. My family used a system we called the “diligence list.” At the beginning of the month, we received a list of various chores, such as doing the dishes, caring for the horses, and so on. We checked off the chores as we completed them, and then at the end of the month, we were given an amount of money for our diligent work based on how many check marks we had on the chart. From this I have learned to work diligently and to be careful with money.

One father in a spiritually precarious situation focused on the joy of finally being clean and right with the Lord—the joy of being freed from guilt and shame—and the joy of having peace of mind. That focus gave him the courage to confess to his wife and bishop about his problem with pornography and his subsequent infidelity. He is now doing everything his bishop counsels him to do, striving with all his heart to regain the trust of his dear wife.

And things with my friends weren’t the same as they were before my mission. I had always invited my nonmember friends to church, but when I got home and started inviting them again, they acted totally different. They didn’t want anything to do with the Church. I wasn’t sure what had changed, but I still prayed for them and shared spiritual messages with them. But I truly felt alone and as though I didn’t have any friends.
So many things changed while I was gone, and adjusting to those changes after I came home was hard.
During my mission, whenever I felt discouraged or thought I couldn’t go on, I prayed for help. So I knew I could rely on Heavenly Father again to help me adjust to this new life transition.
I got the impression that I needed to serve. Service had always helped me feel like I had a purpose. I went to see my bishop and told him about my desire to serve. He called me to be the Young Women secretary.
A few months later, I told Heavenly Father I wanted to progress and learn more in my life, and I asked for His help. The very next day, I was called as second counselor in the stake Primary presidency.
Being able to serve the young women and the children in Primary really helped me adapt to life after my mission. I was able to focus on helping them turn toward the Savior instead of focusing on my challenges. Over time, adjusting became easier as I strived to serve.
Something else that helped me adjust to post-mission life was sharing my testimony whenever I got the chance. Sometimes I even had the opportunity to share my beliefs during presentations in my university classes.
After my philosophy professor assigned me to do a presentation on justice and freedom, I showed a Church video called “Be Still, My Soul.” The video is about a woman who is arrested for drug abuse. While she’s in jail, she misses her children. After she goes through rehabilitation, she returns home a new person.
I ended my presentation with my testimony. I said we all have our God-given agency, but that He has given us commandments to help us understand how to not harm ourselves or others. I also testified that He lives.
My professor and classmates didn’t protest against anything I said. And my testimony left them feeling thoughtful. I’ve learned that you never know when someone might need your insight in order to believe that God and Jesus Christ really do exist.
Overall, just continuing to draw closer to Christ and helping others come to Him helped me adapt to life after my mission. I’m no longer a full-time missionary, but I can still pray, serve, and testify of the truthfulness of the gospel of Jesus Christ. I can still help others and do what I did on my mission—just in a different way.
Adjusting to life after a mission can be hard, but we can still find joy and purpose as we remember what we learned as missionaries and as we continue to be disciples of Jesus Christ. Heavenly Father will help us succeed as we strive to follow Him.
Milka Gajardo Flores loves to smile. She lives in Chile and is currently in her last semester at St. Thomas University, studying special education. She was recently sealed to her husband in the Santiago Chile Temple and serves in Primary with him. She knows that she isn’t perfect, but the love of Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ is, and she testifies that They are always with us.