Gospel Story Finder

Toni Adams, a high school student in Fullerton, is taking institute classes because she is also a recent convert. Toni has a great desire to know more about the Church. Toni said, “Just little things about Church government and programs are easier to understand and talk about in an institute class.”

Bruce came into the kitchen, slammed his books on the table, and announced, “I don’t want to set any table, even if it is an assignment!”
The assignment to enter a table-setting contest was given by his teacher in a marriage-preparedness class, a class Bruce had liked, until now.
“I might do it if it wasn’t sissy,” he said, staring at my lace tablecloth.
“You can make it look like a man’s table,” I told him, silently wondering how.
The day the assignment was due, Bruce gathered together what seemed to fit his idea of masculine. He placed plain white stoneware on a black leather desk pad and used a black and silver desk lamp for the centerpiece. The tablecloth he used was a piece of grey flannel I had purchased for a skirt but had not sewn. The table was accented with chrome salt and pepper shakers and a black goblet. But the clincher was the black linen napkin knotted as a man’s tie.
His table, one of 1,800 entries, was titled “The Executive Lunch.” It was original because it was masculine and exciting.
Bruce worried about his “macho image” when he entered the table-setting contest, but he participated and became more aware of the beauty of a table set with care. He does squint sometimes, looking at the sterling silver he won as first prize, imagining it in the shape of tire rims.

Nils heard creaking, cracking, and then a great big crash! Everyone in the house jumped up to find the two missionaries buried in a pile of blankets and boards that had been Nils’s bed. His bed had been too small for these two grown men who were in Sweden preaching the gospel.
They had come just after supper and had stayed so late that Mama had insisted they stay the night. She had let them sleep in Nils’s bed while he slept on the floor.
Dismayed, Nils looked at his broken bed. Mama whispered, “Don’t worry. Papa will make you a new one.”
But Papa didn’t seem to have time. He worked all day and talked to the missionaries in the evenings. He said that the Book of Mormon explained everything he hadn’t understood in the Bible.
Soon Mama, Papa, Peter, Botilla, and Bengt were baptized into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Nils and his baby sister would have to wait for their eighth birthdays. Even though they were happy, everyone else in town seemed angry—especially Grandmother and Grandfather. Nils’s family decided to go to America where they could be with other Church members.
“You will like America, Nils,” Mama said, “and when we get there, we will get you a new bed.”
The ship to America was crowded with other Swedish and Danish members of the Church. Nils slept on top of two giant water barrels. He was afraid that when the ship rocked back and forth he would roll off! He could hardly wait to see land and sleep in a bed that held still.
But Nils’s first bed in America didn’t hold still. After leaving the ship, they got on a train. Nils fell asleep listening to the clacking of the wheels. When they got off the train at a place called Council Bluffs, they loaded their belongings in wagons pulled by oxen. Nils had thought the ship was crowded, but this was worse!
“No room for mattresses or pillows,” shouted the man in charge. “Pack only your clothes and blankets!”
“No pillow, no mattress, and no bed,” Nils sighed.
His family shared a wagon with a widow and a newly married couple. Every night Nils and his family slept on the ground, and day after dusty day they walked until they made it to Salt Lake City. Once there, they shared a house with another family.
The family’s first home of their own in the valley was a little room dug from a hillside, with a dirt floor. They slept in blankets that could be rolled up during the day. They longed for a more permanent home.
Finally Papa found them some land for a place of their own. Once again, they packed everything into their wagon and rode to Huntsville, Utah. The valley there was green and full of tall grass, and the hillsides were covered with trees. Their second home was a rough cabin with a leaky willow-branch roof and corn-husk mattresses on the floor.
Finally, on Christmas Day, they moved into a real log home with a wood floor, pine shingles on the roof, and real beds! Four and a half years after leaving Sweden, Nils snuggled under his quilt in his own new bed. It creaked a little when he moved, reminding him of the night his old bed broke. How much had changed! Nils smiled. Maybe someday he would grow up to be a missionary in Sweden, too. If he did, he would watch out for little beds!
Years later, Nils P. Lofgren did return to Sweden as a missionary.

Having virtually no quantitative skills, I was seldom if ever able to help our children with math and scientific subjects. One day our high school daughter Nancy asked me for “a little help” regarding a Supreme Court case, Fletcher v. Peck. I was so eager to help after so many times of not being able to help. At last a chance to unload! Out came what I knew about Fletcher v. Peck. Finally my frustrated daughter said, “Dad, I need only a little help!” I was meeting my own needs rather than giving her “a little help.”

“My father was a loving man. He thought everything I did was marvelous. You can imagine what that does to build confidence in a young girl! There was love, love, love. He gave it to everyone, the stranger included. I became comfortable praying to my Heavenly Father very early because I felt my earthly father and my Heavenly Father must be very much alike.

“When daddy prayed, he always blessed everyone up and down the street by name. Often I couldn’t follow what he said because the formal words were unfamiliar and the style unlike our comfortable conversations.

“One night when he prayed, I risked the wrath of heaven and sneaked a look at daddy’s face. I was startled. He was weeping! The language he spoke was formal, but the tears running down his cheeks spoke volumes about the tenderness of his heart.

During our mission, I once accompanied my husband when he went to interview a man for baptism. While my husband conducted the interview, I waited outside with the sister missionaries who had taught this man. When the interview was finished, my husband informed the missionaries that the man would be able to be baptized. This dear man wept and wept as he explained that he had been certain that the serious sins he had committed in his life would prevent him from being able to be baptized. I have seldom witnessed the joy and happiness of someone coming out of the darkness and into the light equal to what I witnessed that day.

“Son, get up! We’ve got a lot of things to do this morning.”
I turned over in bed and looked at my alarm clock. It read 5:30 A.M. I thought, the sun isn’t even out. It’s snowing, and I have to be to school at 8:15! Quickly I realized that I’d better quit complaining and do my chores before I was late for school.
Life wasn’t easy as a teenager growing up on a ranch in southern Colorado. I had many responsibilities, and my father depended on me to fulfill them. I found little time to watch television or just hang out with my friends.
I remember in the winter months, my job was to feed the bulls, the horses, and a few cows. In the summer when we were putting up hay, my Dad would assign me to certain tasks like cutting, baling, or hauling, and in between, I would have to find time to change the irrigation water. My Dad put complete confidence in me that I would get the job done. I often thought that this responsibility put a lot of pressure on me and that I would have gray hair by the time I reached 20.
I never could understand exactly why my parents wanted me to keep busy and gave me such responsibilities until I left for college. There, for the first time in my life, I was separated from my family. I then realized that because my parents had kept me busy, I had missed some of the bad influences that young people find when they get bored and have nothing to do. Having responsibilities taught me the importance of staying with a job until it’s finished and doing it right the first time. These habits helped me while I was serving a mission. I also found I had patience. (I probably got that from working with stubborn sheep and cattle.)
I am thankful to my Heavenly Father for permitting me to be born to such good parents, who taught me the importance of working hard. It has helped to this point in my life, and I know it will continue to help me throughout my life.
Every time your parents give you a chore or an assignment or a responsibility, take it and do the best you can.

Seminary also serves as a great preparation for the missionary work you will do—as a member missionary today and also if you serve as a full-time missionary in the future. Franco Huamán Curinuqui of Peru knows that his scripture study in seminary has been helping him prepare for his mission.

He says this preparation is worth getting up for seminary at 4:00 a.m., riding canoes when months of flooding hit the area, and then wading through mud to get to class. He says, “I want to finish seminary and start institute classes in order to be prepared for a mission. I am going to keep growing in the Church.” Seminary is important to him because he learns about the scriptures and memorizes important verses, which will help him be a better missionary.

We had a pump organ in our chapel. I wanted to help at church, and pumping the organ was one of my jobs when I was eight and nine years old. It felt wonderful to contribute to sacrament meeting by pumping the organ so the congregation could sing.

How does someone with a degree in recreational therapy and 10 years of experience in the mental health field end up opening a dessert shop selling colorful brownies, blondies, and ice cream?
For Molly Kohrman, the answer is simple. In 2017 she took a 12-week Self-Reliance Services course on how to start and grow your own business. That course gave her the courage to pursue a dream.
“I did pastry school in Washington, D.C., and I went to culinary school in Utah,” she says. “When my stake said they were going to do self-reliance classes, I thought, ‘Maybe I should look into this. I’ve always wanted to have my own business. I’ve done other business classes. It wouldn’t hurt to learn more.’”
The course was different from any other business or pastry class Molly had taken. What made it unique, she says, was the presence of the Holy Ghost and the spirit of camaraderie among course members.
“The business discussions were good and helpful,” she says, “but it was the spiritual side tied into the business discussions that made the biggest difference for me.”
“I went through an inner turmoil,” Molly says. “I wondered if using all of my savings, time, and energy to start a business would really be the best use of my resources when, at the time, I was working in suicide prevention.”
During her first class, Molly and other attendees discussed the Lord’s desire that His Saints be successful and choose a livelihood that brings them joy. She asked the group, “How do you reconcile using the talents you’ve been given for weighty matters versus using your talents for something you just want to do?”
As the group discussed her question, Molly realized that she wouldn’t just be selling brownies. If her business proved successful, she would be employing people, she would have financial resources to donate to worthy causes, and, once her work hours slowed down, she could return to social work as a volunteer.
“It took me until that discussion to really understand. It didn’t sink in until I was in a room full of like-minded people,” she says. “We were all at different stages of the business process and at different stages of life, but the Spirit was there, and it definitely guided our discussion—in every class. I realized that if having my own business was really what I wanted, then Heavenly Father would support me.”
About halfway through her 12-week course, Molly began baking and sharing brownies with the 10 members of her self-reliance group.
“They weren’t mad at all about that, and some of them had really good feedback,” she says. “I started trying different flavors, frostings, and compositions. By the end of the class, I had a pretty good idea of what I wanted to do.”
Molly says it was vital to get together weekly with her group, hold each other accountable for weekly commitments, learn how and whom to ask for help, and direct each other to needed resources.
“During the whole time we were together, I felt blessed and supported by the people in my group,” she says. “The class helped me become aware of all the things I had to figure out.”
After opening her brownie shop in the fall of 2018, Molly quickly discovered that running a business takes more time than she had imagined. But a principle she remembers from her self-reliance class continues to bless her.
“I could not have started this business without Heavenly Father’s help,” she says. “And without the help and support of many other people, it just wouldn’t have been possible. This is such a great opportunity. I’ve wanted to do it for so long.”
And thanks to her self-reliance class, “I’ve been blessed with the chance to try.”

A recent magazine article contains the story of a 12-year-old girl who got hooked on the Internet. In a chat room she met an admirer. One thing led to another until the discussion became sexually explicit. As she conversed with him, she thought he was a boy of about her own age.

When she met him, she found “a tall, overweight gray-haired man.” He was a vicious predator, a scheming pedophile. Her mother, with the help of the FBI, saved her from what might have been a tragedy of the worst kind (see Stephanie Mansfield, “The Avengers Online,” Reader’s Digest, Jan. 2000, 100–104).

A final example of the dedication that acts on the basis of this ethic rather than on the suggestion of a cost-benefit analysis is found in the life of Matthew Cowley. He had been attending the Latter-day Saint University in Salt Lake City, but as he finished his freshman year, he decided he did not want to return to school the next year; he wanted to go on a mission instead. He was only seventeen years old, but he was called and was soon on his way to New Zealand to work with the Maoris.
In his diary Elder Cowley tells how his best companions there were fleas, since they so faithfully stayed close to him. Here is one entry from that diary:
“After Karakia (prayer) was held in the evening, I went to my room, and before going to bed I fortified myself against the fleas. I rubbed flea powder all over my body and put a layer of it in the bed. I trust that will stupefy them. … On arising and looking in the bed [the next morning], I found the carcasses of a multitude of fleas, and it made me feel like Napoleon to be the victor of such a battle.”8
Elder Cowley had to learn the language from scratch, of course, and during the first three months he was without a companion. He went to a grove every morning at six o’clock to study the gospel and the language and to fast and pray. There he would remain for eleven hours each day. Within three months he was able to stand before a group of natives and preach the gospel in their tongue, and, as he says, “There was a burning in my bosom the like of which I have never felt before or since in my life.”

The desire to help another, the quest for the lost sheep, may not always yield success at once. On occasion, progress is slow—even indiscernible. Such was the experience of my longtime friend, Gill Warner. He was a newly called bishop when Douglas, a member of his ward serving in the mission field, transgressed and was deprived of his Church membership. Father was saddened; Mother was totally devastated. Douglas soon thereafter moved from the state. The years hurried by, but Bishop Warner, now a member of a high council, never ceased to wonder what had become of Douglas.
In 1975 I attended the stake conference of Brother Warner’s stake and held a priesthood leadership meeting early on Sunday morning. I spoke of the Church discipline system and the need to labor earnestly and lovingly to rescue any who had strayed. Gill Warner raised his hand and outlined the story of Douglas. He concluded by posing a question to me: “Do I have any responsibility to work with Douglas to help bring him back to Church membership?”
Gill reminded me later that my response to his question was direct and given without hesitation. I said, “As his former bishop and one who knew and loved him, I would think you would wish to do all you could to bring him back.”
Unbeknownst to Gill Warner, Douglas’s mother had, the previous week, fasted and prayed that a man would be raised up to help save her son. Gill discovered this when, following the meeting, he felt prompted to call her to report his determination to be of help.
Gill began his odyssey of redemption. Douglas was contacted by him. Old times, happy times, were remembered. Testimony was expressed, love was conveyed, and confidence instilled. The pace was excruciatingly slow. Discouragement frequently entered the scene; but step-by-step Douglas made headway. At long last prayers were answered, efforts rewarded, and victory attained. Douglas was approved for baptism.
The baptismal date was set, family members gathered, and former bishop Gill Warner flew to the city where Douglas lived and performed the ordinance.
Bishop Warner, through the love of his heart and with a sense of responsibility to a former priest in the Aaronic Priesthood—even the quorum over which he presided—went to the rescue, that not one would be lost.

The three days of camp were filled with activities and spiritual experiences. The girls made fast friends while they swam and toured ancient ruins. They also provided service for a school for disabled children by bringing needed supplies to the Hope Institute. Margaret Tueller says, “We had warm feelings. It was as good to give as it was to receive.”

Not long ago I attended a family home evening with a family whom I love very much: a young husband and wife and their little daughter. As their bishop I had come to their home acting partly on a prompting from the Spirit and largely on a prompting from this young father’s concerned mother and sister, who were also present. The Lord had been working with this family to make big changes in their lives and bring them back to the blessings of the gospel and the Church. But something had happened that day.
For months this young father had been deeply concerned about providing for his family. His employment was expected to end soon, and he and his wife were in the midst of deciding whether to relocate their family to another state. That would mean significant changes for the family. Earlier that day this father learned that some greatly anticipated financial relief would not be coming; it was crushing news.
When I arrived at their apartment, I could see the deep discouragement in his face. The responsibility of providing for a family and the unwelcome news weighed heavily on the shoulders of this young father.
His wife had chosen a chapter of scripture for the lesson to address their concerns of feeling overwhelmed. The father read the entire chapter. You may recognize these words from Isaiah 55:
“Every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money; come ye, buy, and eat; yea, come, buy … without money and without price. …
“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord” (verses 1, 8).
And then the family discussed what those verses meant to them. The Spirit of the Lord filled that little apartment as this family home evening evolved into a family council. This young father shared his fears and concerns and desires, and everyone shared their love and concern for each other. They talked about what to do, what options they had, what actions to take.
It was a very open discussion. There were some disagreements. I felt impressed to simply listen and observe. Finally, in unity the husband and wife determined they should make the decision together with the Lord through prayer. I then offered words of support and encouragement.
I can recall few times when I’ve recognized the Spirit of the Lord more strongly than in that little apartment that evening with that humble, struggling family. It was a fulfillment of the Lord’s promise given to His disciples long ago: “Where two or three are gathered together in my name, as touching one thing, behold, there will I be in the midst of them—even so am I in the midst of you” (D&C 6:32).
Those words from the Savior are not just good advice or mere words of comfort. For the young prophet Joseph Smith and Oliver Cowdery, those words of the Savior set forth the doctrine and pattern for obtaining revelation and guidance and for making decisions in the kingdom of God.
The Lord was in the midst of that family council that night. They had invited His Spirit through prayer and scripture study. They were united in purpose. They were filled with love for one another. They brought their best ideas and experiences and laid them before each other and before the Lord and asked for His guidance. They made decisions in unity and then took action.

We make things for each other too. Mommy made me a brand-new dress, and I made her a birthday card. I colored a picture with my crayons, and Mommy taped it on the wall. When Grandma came over, she saw it and said, “What a lovely picture!”

He tells about one of his series of abstract paintings that was inspired directly by the scriptures and that had a scriptural “text” inscribed either on the back or below the painting. “My barber told me that he had seen them in a public show,” he recalls delightedly. “Then he quoted a scripture on one of the paintings word for word. It had made an impression on him, even though he didn’t believe in God.”

For my fifth birthday I invited four special friends to my house. Only one was a member of the Church. We played Pass the Parcel, and one of my friends didn’t know what song she should sing to win some chocolate. I told her that I knew a song. I sang “I Am a Child of God” to all my friends. When I was finished, it was all quiet. Mummy said she felt the Spirit.

True conversion changes lives. One young woman wrote how unhappy her home life had been when she was a little girl. She wrote, “I felt it keenly when my mother and younger brothers and sisters suffered from the savage temper of a drunken father.” When she was 14, someone told her that one of God’s commandments was to honor her parents. In pondering how she could do this, she was impressed to study, to become a good student, and to be the best daughter in town.

Nothing much changed in the home, but she still felt to continue with her objectives and at age 18 left home to undertake some special studies. Three weeks later she went home to visit, and she recalled:

“My mother met me crying. I thought something terrible had happened, but she hugged me and said, ‘Since you went away to study, your father hasn’t had anything to drink.’

“… My mother said that the night I left, some Mormon missionaries had come. …

“My father became like a little child. I could see repentance and humility in his eyes. He had changed completely. He had given up smoking and drinking all at once, and tried to keep the commandments the missionaries taught him. He treated me like a queen, and he treated my mother and my brothers and sisters like royalty.

“… Our whole family was baptized. … My father, at age 40, became the best father in the world.”

Elijah’s return occurred in the Kirtland Temple on April 3, 1836. He declared he was fulfilling Malachi’s promise. He committed the priesthood keys for sealing families in this dispensation.9 Elijah’s mission is facilitated by what is sometimes called the spirit of Elijah, which, as Elder Russell M. Nelson has taught, is “a manifestation of the Holy Ghost bearing witness of the divine nature of the family.”10