Gospel Story Finder

In the last few weeks of 2005, two sisters in the Madagascar Antananarivo Mission posed a familiar question to members in their mission, a question that at the time resonated with Church members anywhere in the world: “Manao ahoana ny famamkiano?” they asked. “How’s your reading?”
And many of those in Antananarivo were among them. They had not only heeded President Gordon B. Hinckley’s challenge to read the Book of Mormon by the end of the year, but they had already finished and were beginning again. The report of this success in Madagascar, shared by Sister Brittney Jorgensen and Sister Carrie Schow, is one of overwhelming thanks for the guidance and direction of President Hinckley.
When the invitation was published in a First Presidency Message in the August 2005 issue of the Liahona and Ensign magazines, President Hinckley promised in the article that those who completed the Book of Mormon by the end of the year, regardless of how many times they had read it before, would experience an added measure of the Spirit of the Lord in their homes and in their lives, a strengthened resolution to walk in obedience to His commandments, and a stronger testimony of the living reality of the Son of God.
With the close of 2005, Sisters Jorgensen and Schow related how they saw these promises fulfilled in the lives of those they teach.
“Even though we are one of the farthest missions from Church headquarters in Salt Lake City, the members hear and follow the direction of the prophet just the same,” they said. “We have had the opportunity to see the effects of diligence and obedience in our lives and in the lives of investigators and recent converts.”

My family was flying from Buenos Aires, Argentina, to a town in the north of that country called Posadas. I am 15, and although I had been on airplanes before, I was not used to flying in a plane as small as this one. It held about 50 people and must have been about 50 years old. I got a shiver down my back at the thought of crashing, but dismissed it. The plane was a little shaky, like me at that moment, but I was not terrified because I was with my family.
As we began to cross over a large body of water the plane started to tremble and shake a lot. That was when I felt terror. So I closed my eyes and, almost instinctively, said a prayer. I had learned to always pray when in trouble.
As I was asking my Heavenly Father for protection I felt a calm assurance that everything would be all right. I opened my eyes and looked out my window. It was early morning, and while I had been saying my prayer the sunlight and the lake had merged to make the sky and water a deep blue—both foaming with puffs of heavenly white. It was one of the most beautiful sights I had ever beheld. My fear was gone, and the clouds that once caused the plane to tremble now seemed like Heavenly Father’s loving arms.
Safe in the knowledge that the Lord was watching over us, I began to study the water and the sky for some time, imagining the raging storms that must occur in both. And I thought about my own life, with all of the daily problems, or storms, that I am constantly getting caught in.
Though I’ve been a member of the Church all my life, I had never realized so fully the influence Heavenly Father can have. I knew he has provided an escape from the storms of the world. I realized that by praying, and by holding to the iron rod, I can rise above the storms and reach the emotional and spiritual heights where I can feel his love.
For 15 years I had prayed every day, but I never knew if it was really helping. But on that day in the sky over Argentina, a simple prayer opened my eyes. It was only a starting point, but it helped me understand how much love Heavenly Father has for me. That’s one of the many ways I know that he lives and that I should always call on him in prayer.

A few years ago, the Liahona contained a letter describing my return to the Church and reporting that our branch was meeting in a large shed on my property. In time, our branch rented a house, and this year we rented a larger one. Recently, we acquired the ground for a meetinghouse.
I am the magazine representative for the branch, and my goal is to get the Liahona (Spanish) into every home. As we read it, we are strengthened, and we find the answers to many problems. The messages from the First Presidency are especially encouraging in our times of tribulation.
Virginia de Laurino,Gobernador Gálvez Branch, Rosario Argentina Stake

The greatest immediate need, especially for the elderly, was for help in getting their homes back in order. For 79-year-old Veda Cooper, who was crippled from a bone disease, the experience was traumatic, and the love and service offered by ward and stake members were badly needed.
“I was standing in the kitchen doorway when everything started falling down,” she explained. “I couldn’t get backward and I couldn’t get forward. It felt like the house was going to come tumbling down. But I couldn’t get out and run. I’m crippled. Everything that could fall fell. Jams and jellies, pickles, clothes, suitcases, goblets and glasses, a whole set of china for 12—everything was all mixed together. Water was squirting all over the bathroom.
“Later when I thought about all the mess I started feeling sorry for myself. I thought, now look, I’m not afraid to work. And it’s all right for the Lord to take my husband, and it’s all right to have my three sons so far away. But I felt like it was just adding insult to injury to be crippled and alone and then to have a mess like this. The tears were running down, and I thought, I’ll be all summer getting this mess picked up.
“Then here came somebody knocking on the door, somebody from Hanford to help me clean up, and I didn’t feel sorry anymore. But for a little while I thought this is too much—just too much—until help came. Then in no time they had the water turned off, and the plumbing fixed, and the mess cleaned up, and I was just doing fine.”

For example, on one occasion when I was expecting our second child, I watched a television program presented by a famous scientist. The program showed the impact of Western civilization on some remote island cultures. At the end of the program, the focus changed, and film excerpts showed crowded cities and impoverished peoples across the world. The scientist pleaded with the television viewers to persuade their governments to introduce birth-control measures. She predicted world disaster if the population growth was not brought under control.
I was deeply distressed; my husband and I were bringing another child into the world! I pleaded with the Lord to help me to understand as he did—at least in part—to help me know if I was obeying his will. I prayed for some time, and finally I felt as if I had crossed a barrier. Through the still small voice came these words: “You are helping to fulfill the promise made to Abraham that his seed would be as numerous as the stars of the heavens and the sands of the sea.”
I turned to Abraham 2:11 and read the Lord’s words: “In thy seed … shall all the families of the earth be blessed, even with the blessings of the Gospel, which are the blessings of salvation, even of life eternal.”
In Abraham 3:12–14, the Lord shows the patriarch the starry skies and says, “I will multiply thee, and thy seed after thee, like unto these.”
When my reading brought me to Doctrine and Covenants 132:31–32, I found with great excitement that the Lord had spoken about this promise to Abraham: “This promise is yours also, because ye are of Abraham, … and by this law is the continuation of the works of my Father, wherein he glorifieth himself.
“Go ye, therefore, and do the works of Abraham; enter ye into my law and ye shall be saved.”
The promise to Abraham was meant for all our Father’s children! I was reminded of the covenant I had made at baptism to share the gospel. I had covenanted to bear the burdens of my fellow man. The Lord explains in Doctrine and Covenants 104:17–18:
“For the earth is full, and there is enough and to spare; yea, I prepared all things, and have given unto the children of men to be agents unto themselves.
“Therefore, if any man shall take of the abundance which I have made, and impart not his portion, according to the law of my gospel unto the poor and the needy, he shall, with the wicked, lift up his eyes in hell.”

Katya, a dear sister in Ukraine, has a deep love for the temple. Before the temple in Kyiv was built, she and others in her branch sacrificed to travel 36 hours on a bus to attend the temple once a year in Germany. These devoted Saints prayed, studied scriptures, sang hymns, and discussed the gospel as they traveled. Katya told me, “When we finally arrived at the temple, we were prepared to receive what the Lord had to give us.”

My daughter had an exciting gospel discussion with a girl recently. At that time the girl was working with a little boy who was afflicted with a brain disease and had been given six months to live. My daughter’s friend was becoming very attached to this little boy. My daughter posed personal questions such as: “Do you believe in life after death?” “Why do you think this little boy is suffering with this?” “Do you think he will be blessed for his struggles?” “What have you learned from this?” This type of question demonstrates your sincere interest in your friend rather than just pushing doctrine at him. It’s love—and a very important ingredient in teaching of Christ in His way.

Now that she has moved on, I am happy that I chose to sit next to her when I came home from the office during the last few months of her life, to hold her hand as we watched the endings of some of her favorite musicals—over and over again because Alzheimer’s would not allow her to remember that she had seen them just the afternoon before. Memories of those special hand-holding sessions are now very, very precious to me.

A young man preparing to leave on a mission told me he grew up feeling his parents’ love for the scriptures, particularly the Book of Mormon. “Our family studied it together,” he said. “Mom and Dad taught us about the Savior, and I saw how much they loved him. Gradually I began to study and pray more on my own. I wanted the joy in my life that I saw in my parents’ lives.” Then he added this significant statement: “As my testimony of the Savior grew, I knew I could never let him down.”

My mom came to pick me up from my mission, and it happened to be October general conference weekend. She watched three of the conference sessions with me and enjoyed them so much that she asked for them on DVD for Christmas. To me, this was a miracle to let me know that I need not lose hope.

Would you believe that every member of the Hillcrest High (Salt Lake City) cheerleading squad is LDS? Would you believe that they won first place in three divisions at the USA National Cheerleading Championships? It’s true.
To prepare for the competition, the team held practices at 6:00 A.M. as well as during class and after school. They also found time to do service projects like performing for and helping students at a school for students with special needs.

As a young man, Ezra Taft Benson (or “T” as he was called) was an assistant Scoutmaster in Whitney Ward in Whitney, Idaho. One of his duties was to prepare a young men’s choir for a stake competition.
Ezra: Tenors, you’re a little bit flat.
They won and moved on to compete against winning groups from six other stakes. It was a big challenge for a small ward, but T knew how to inspire boys.
Ezra: If you win this competition, I’ll take you on a thirty-five-mile hike over the mountains to Bear Lake.
Scout: Hurray!
Scout: Let’s win it!
They sang their hearts out and finished in first place! A promise is a promise, and they met to plan the hike.
A promise is a promise, and they met to plan the hike.
Scout: Mr. Scoutmaster, I’d like to make a motion. We should all clip our hair off so we won’t be bothered with combs and brushes.
The motion passed, which was all right with T—until another Scout spoke up.
Scout: How about the Scoutmasters?
They all went to the barbershop together.
Barber: I’ll tell you what, T. If you and the Scoutmaster will let me shave you bald, I’ll cut everyone’s hair for free.
Twenty-four short-cropped boys with their bald Scoutmaster and his bald assistants had a wonderful time on the hike.
Ezra Taft Benson stayed in touch with those boys his whole life, inspiring them to make right choices.

I glanced at the quarter in my hand and then eyed the 10-foot distance to the cement wall. The other kid’s quarter had landed about six inches from the wall. Another good shot. He’d already won my first quarter last round. Now I had to win it back—and hopefully win an additional quarter from him in the third round.
You see, I wanted a soda with my lunch. And sodas cost 75 cents, which was 25 cents more than I had left after buying lunch at our junior high school cafeteria. Hence the contest.
I tossed my last quarter as skillfully as I could. I hoped for a lucky bounce that would put it closer to the wall than my opponent’s, thereby making me the winner.
Nope. My fiendish coin hit the wall hard. I watched as it rolled back farther than my opponent’s. He smirked and scooped up the spoils.
“Better luck next time,” he said.
It would be an entire school year before it occurred to me that if I’d simply saved my change after lunch, I could’ve bought a soda two days out of every three. At the time, though, the idea of turning two quarters into three or more with no effort was too enticing. I lost a lot of quarters that year.

From my experience as administrative assistant and former campaign manager to California State Assemblyman Alister McAlister (also a member of the Church), I would like to make some suggestions as to how easy it is to become involved.
My own experiences in getting involved in politics form a pattern that many youth could duplicate. I graduated recently from San Jose State College in public relations but knew nothing of politics. I asked myself what type of work I wanted to do and decided that politics sounded interesting and rewarding, so I called my party’s local headquarters and asked who was running for office in my area.
At the time, I was editing the ward newspaper of Stanford Ward and was at the printer’s office checking some copy. I saw an issue of the San Jose Stake newspaper and noticed the name Alister McAlister. I remembered the name from my conversation with local headquarters. I called him that afternoon. Within a week I was his campaign manager. Of course, the first thing I did was to visit the library and take out some books on political campaigns.

I can make two promises to those who offer the gospel to others. The first is that even those who reject it will someday thank us. More than once I have asked missionaries to visit friends far from where I lived, learned that the missionaries had been rejected, and then received a letter from my friend with words like this: “I was honored that you would offer to me something that I knew meant so much to you.” My second promise is that as you offer the gospel to others it will go down more deeply into your own heart. It becomes the well of water springing up into eternal life for us as we offer it to others.

We stepped down the stone staircase to the Pool of Siloam. There was an odor of old stone and cement. Jesus came here often, and there are accounts of healings that took place here. “It’s hard to imagine,” Don said, “that Jesus could have stood here and healed someone. Right here—right where I’m standing. I wonder what they felt like when they were healed?” asking the question almost to himself.

It was Christmas Eve. I sat by our tree. I remember the sparkling icicles and the glowing red and white lights. I was sad my dad wasn’t home. He was drinking at some bar.
It’s not the way I wanted Christmas to be.
Drinking ruined birthdays. It ruined Thanksgiving. It ruined New Year’s and Easter and other days.
Holidays were often the saddest, loneliest, most painful times of the year. On those days the contrast was sharp and bitter between how life could and should be and how it really was.

Now I hadn’t had time to think of what to do to earn a living in a strange land with a strange language. On Friday morning, July 26, 1872, there came a man to the house of Mon Andersen who wanted a boy to help him in the fields. His name was Peter Petersen. My wages were $8.00 a month. I worked with him 20 months. I must now tell a little that happened in that time. It was customary at that time that newcomers should be rebaptized. So Peter Petersen’s wife, Karen Larsen Petersen, told me, “There will be baptisms today. So you must hitch up the horses and take these people down to the mill pond to be baptized. And you must be baptized too.” I told her I would be glad to take them down, but I was not ready for baptism yet.

Sister Carole M. Stevens, a former First Counselor in the Relief Society General Presidency, once remembered a story about her granddaughter Chloe. While Sister Stevens was driving, Chloe kept unbuckling her seatbelt and standing up in the car.
After several attempts to convince Chloe to stay sitting down with her seatbelt buckled, Sister Stevens received an impression to teach Chloe that she needed her seatbelt to be safe and avoid getting hurt. After a moment, Chloe realized: “Grandma, you want me to wear my seat belt because you love me!”

I went with my grandma to give some bread to a lady who was sick.
It made me happy to serve.