Gospel Story Finder

My second example emphasizes the importance of persevering through the trial of our faith. A few years ago a family traveled to Europe from the United States. Shortly after arriving at their destination, a 13-year-old son became quite ill. The mother and father initially thought his upset stomach was caused by fatigue from the long flight, and the family routinely continued on its journey.

As the day continued, the son’s condition became worse. Dehydration was increasing. The father gave his son a priesthood blessing, but no improvement was immediately evident.

Several hours passed by, and the mother knelt by her son’s side, pleading in prayer to Heavenly Father for the boy’s well-being. They were far from home in an unfamiliar country and did not know how to obtain medical assistance.

The mother asked her son if he would like to pray with her. She knew that merely waiting for the anticipated blessing would not be enough; they needed to continue to act. Explaining that the blessing he had received was still in effect, she suggested again petitioning in prayer, as did the ancient Apostles, “Lord, Increase our faith” (Luke 17:5). The prayer included a profession of trust in priesthood power and a commitment to persevere in doing whatever might be required for the blessing to be honored—if that blessing at that time was in accordance with God’s will. Shortly after they offered this simple prayer, the son’s condition improved.

The faithful action of the mother and her son helped to invite the promised priesthood power and in part satisfied the requirement that we “dispute not because [we] see not, for [we] receive no witness until after the trial of [our] faith” (Ether 12:6). Just as the prison holding Alma and Amulek did not tumble to the earth “until after their faith,” and just as Ammon and his missionary brethren did not witness mighty miracles in their ministries “until after their faith” (see Ether 12:12–15), so the healing of this 13-year-old boy did not occur until after their faith and was accomplished “according to their faith in their prayers” (D&C 10:47).

One such learning experience stands out. As an Area Seventy, I had been assigned to preside at a stake conference in New Zealand. Only a few months before, President Thomas S. Monson had delivered a powerful address to all the Seventies of the world. His address centered on rescuing those who had slipped away from the ordinances of the gospel.

As a result of President Monson’s address and the consequent challenge he gave us, I felt an urgency to visit and invite those not fully involved in the gospel to return to the covenants and ordinances of salvation. I invited stake presidents to take me with them during stake conference weekends to visit less-active members. Those visits were always wonderful.

One Saturday during a particular stake conference weekend, the stake president and I visited several families. The husband and wife of one of these families had been married for about 10 years and had been sealed in the temple but were now less active. They welcomed us warmly, and we had a spiritual visit. As the visit was ending, I felt prompted to ask the husband if he would like a blessing and then to ask him to give his wife a blessing.

This was an unusual prompting. I had been taught that as a guest in another’s home, I should take a subordinate role and that the head of the home should be the one who decides what is done. This brother, however, was grateful for the offer of a blessing, and he was visibly moved after the stake president and I had finished.

As he arose, however, he asked whether one of us would bless his wife. He told us that despite being married 10 years, he had never given her a blessing and was uncomfortable doing so.

“We will help you,” I said, encouraging him.

Illustrations by Brian Call

After we had explained how to give a blessing and helped him rehearse what to say at the beginning and at the end, he gave his wife a wonderful blessing. When he finished, we all had moist eyes, and he and his wife accepted our invitation to return to the gospel.

As a result of this tender experience, the stake president felt inspired during his address to stake members the next day to challenge priesthood holders to return home after stake conference and to give blessings to family members.

As child, I learned that God gives us gifts that allow us to bless others (see Moroni 10:8–18). I prayed, “Heavenly Father, what gift can I develop that will bless Thy children?”
At age 16, I began to study singing at the encouragement of the director of the local conservatory. “You have a beautiful voice,” she told me.
When the audience applauded after my first vocal performance, a phrase came clearly to my mind: “This is your gift.” I wept because my prayer had been answered. In my country, however, it can be difficult to make a living as a musician. But I knew that the Lord prepares a way. So, I continued to study singing, seeking to become the best I could be.
When I was 19, I was given a scholarship to study abroad. That opportunity and similar chances, however, failed to materialize. In hindsight, I can see that the Lord wanted me to stay in Ecuador.
People told me I had no future in music because I had no prestigious foreign education, wealth, or name recognition. But I knew that God had a plan for me, so I put my talent toward serving in the Church, where I formed choirs, directed music, and tried to inspire others to develop their gifts and talents.
Later, when I was offered work at a television station, I worried about temptations associated with the entertainment industry. But the answer to my prayers was, “Accept the job and show you can be an artist without compromising your standards.”
I have worked as a television artistic production assistant, as an assistant choral director for the Symphonic Choir of Guayaquil, and on the board of the Ecuadoran House of Culture for the province of Guayas.
I testify that it is possible to fulfill our dreams without sacrificing our principles. Today my name is recognized in my country and in my profession—thanks to my commitment to live the gospel and develop the gifts Heavenly Father has given me.
When we obey our Father’s will, the impossible becomes possible (see Matthew 19:26). I know He loves us and wants to help us develop our gifts to bless others.

Toward the end of his mission in Seoul, Korea, Michael Tally Ringwood spent a day with an ill, apartment-bound companion, which provided an additional opportunity for study, reflection, and prayer.
“I felt that I needed reassurance,” says Elder Ringwood, now a member of the First Quorum of the Seventy. After praying for as long as he had ever prayed, the reassurance hadn’t come. It didn’t come when he turned to scripture study either. But finally, when Elder Ringwood turned to his missionary journal, the confirmation came.
“In every entry I read, I had written something significant about the Spirit. The message that came to me was this: ‘I have told you many times. How much more assurance do you need?’ That was the answer to my prayer. I realized that these witnesses had happened repeatedly and often. The Lord had always been there. He was reminding me that I had felt the Spirit and the testifying of the Holy Ghost.”
That lesson has served Elder Ringwood throughout his life and callings as bishop, high councilor, high priests group leader, Young Men president, Scoutmaster, stake president, and president of the Korea Seoul West Mission.

Keeping a journal is not easy. We often tell ourselves that we are too busy or too tired or that our lives aren’t exciting enough to write about. I realized a few years ago that journal-keeping wasn’t meant to be hard and that I could grow to love it.
I began by writing one thing a day. It didn’t matter if it was really long or exciting; I just wrote whatever was on my mind or whatever had happened that day. It has already blessed my life.
One day someone in my family was struggling and I wasn’t sure what to say to her, but then I was prompted to read her one of my journal entries. I was able to share a little piece of me that I had recorded in that little black journal, and I saw the way that it helped lighten her heart.
I guarantee if you will start by writing one thing down a day, it will bless your life. No matter how small or how big, writing down the blessings in your life can help you to remember them.
Gentry W., Utah, USA

During my teenage years, that decision was tested a number of times. I watched friends accept invitations to see movies and go to parties that I knew were not appropriate. Sometimes I was tempted to join them because it looked like they were having so much fun. I mentioned to my bishop this frustration about feeling left out. He helped me keep things in proper perspective by reassuring me that being a teenager only lasts a few years and that those who exercise their agency properly during those years will actually have far more freedom in the future than those who choose a different path.
I realized that I didn’t want poor teenage decisions to affect my opportunities later in life. I tried to date young women and associate with friends who felt the same way. It wasn’t always easy, but my decision to be worthy of the priesthood, enter the temple, serve a mission, and later marry in the temple have made any tough times as a teenager worth it. You will never regret staying clean and pure. If you have already made mistakes that keep you from feeling close to the Spirit, talk to your parents and your bishop. They will know what to do to help you feel whole again.

I remember a family in Albuquerque, New Mexico, I met years ago: a father, a mother, and two teenage daughters who belonged to no church but read the Bible together every day. They pondered the Savior’s life and His words. When we found this family, they had already decided that Christ would have a church and that they should find it. They knew that it would have prophets and apostles at its foundation because that is what Christ had placed in His church when He lived on the earth. They knew that the resurrected Lord had appeared to His Apostles.
And so it seemed right to this family when we testified that God, the Father, and His Son, the Savior of the world, came to a boy prophet, Joseph Smith. And the Holy Spirit, which they also recognized, told them it was true. They recognized the truth, that this is the church of Jesus Christ, in large part because they had always remembered Him. Every day they had gathered to read about Him and His words, and so they remembered Him. And after they were baptized, they were ready to follow the living prophet because they knew that the Savior always speaks to His prophets to bless His people.

As I consider some of the problems people cause themselves by failing to look ahead, I think of a letter I clipped a long time ago from a newspaper. It was first published in England. I hope you will pardon a bit of humor. I use it only to set the stage for what I wish to say.
It appears that an English company owned a property in the West Indies. A violent storm damaged one of the buildings, and a man was sent to make repairs. Of his experience, he wrote the manager as follows:
“Respected Sir,
“When I got to the building, I found that the hurricane had knocked some bricks off the top. So I rigged up a beam with a pulley at the top of the building and hoisted up a couple of barrels full of bricks. When I had fixed the building, there was a lot of bricks left over.
“I hoisted the barrel back up again and secured the line at the bottom, and then went up and filled the barrel with extra bricks. Then I went to the bottom and cast off the line.
“Unfortunately, the barrel of bricks was heavier than I was, and before I knew what was happening the barrel started down, jerking me off the ground. I decided to hang on, and halfway up I met the barrel coming down and received a severe blow on the shoulder.
“I then continued to the top, banging my head against the beam and getting my finger jammed in the pulley. When the barrel hit the ground, it bursted its bottom, allowing all the bricks to spill out.
“I was now heavier than the barrel and so started down again at high speed. Halfway down, I met the barrel coming up and received severe injuries to my shins. When I hit the ground, I landed on the bricks, getting several painful cuts from the sharp edges.
“At this point I must have lost my presence of mind, because I let go of the line. The barrel then came down, giving me another heavy blow on the head and putting me in the hospital.
“I respectfully request sick leave.”

Photograph courtesy of the author
For a hobby, I took up beekeeping. Soon, people started asking me if they could buy some of my honey.
After selling a little honey, I thought about paying tithing on my “interest” (Doctrine and Covenants 119:4). I really didn’t think of the money I earned, however, as an increase. I spent a lot more on beekeeping equipment than I made selling honey.
But I remembered that tithes are holy to the Lord. As members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we honor Him by paying tithing. Paying tithing is an expression of our faith in God and His promises.
I remembered that those who pay tithing receive this promise from the Lord: “Prove me now herewith, saith the Lord of hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive it” (Malachi 3:10).
I accepted the Lord’s challenge and paid tithing on my honey sales. On the tithing slips, I wrote, “From honey money.”
A short while later, a friend came to my house and said he knew someone whose beekeeping husband had passed away. The widowed wife wanted to get rid of all her husband’s beekeeping equipment and was thinking of throwing it away. Instead, my friend took me to pick up the equipment.
All the beekeeping equipment I had ever wanted and wished for—and more—was there, including all kinds of honey-extracting equipment.
Nobody gives away beekeeping equipment. But within a week after I made the choice to pay tithing, Heavenly Father opened the windows of heaven and rewarded me. I believe chance had nothing to do with it. I have a testimony that Heavenly Father knows me and my desires. My testimony of the importance of paying tithing has certainly grown.

Elena sat back on her heels and looked at what she and Grandma had done in the backyard. “It looks good,” Elena said, admiring the newly cleaned out garden beds.
Elena loved spending time with her grandma. Grandma could always make her laugh, even when Elena was feeling down. Sometimes Grandma made up silly poems or stories.
“Let’s go inside.” Grandma started toward the back door. “I have a surprise for you.”
She handed Elena an envelope with some money inside.
“You don’t have to pay me, Grandma!” Elena said.
But Grandma shook her head. “You help me so much. I want to give you something. Please take it.”
“Thank you!” Elena gave Grandma a big hug.
Elena thought of some jeans and a shirt she’d seen at the store. With what Grandma had paid her and what Elena had saved, she’d have just enough money to buy them after paying her tithing.
The next day was Sunday. Elena and her family got to church a few minutes before sacrament meeting began. She couldn’t wait to tell her friend Courtney about earning money for the clothes.
But when she saw Courtney sitting in the foyer, she noticed that her friend looked really sad. Elena sat down next to her.
“Are you all right?” Elena asked quietly.
“I’m fine,” Courtney said, but she didn’t look Elena in the eye.
Elena knew her friend wasn’t fine. Courtney struggled with depression and got really sad sometimes.
“How can I help?” Elena asked.
“There’s nothing anyone can do,” Courtney said and turned away. Elena saw a tear slide down her cheek.
Elena felt like crying herself. She sat with Courtney until sacrament meeting started and it was time for them to join their families.
For the rest of the day, Elena felt an idea grow inside her. She thought about Courtney. She thought about the money she’d earned. Buying new clothes didn’t seem very important any more. After praying about her idea, Elena knew what she wanted to do.
On Monday after school, Elena asked her mom to take her to the store.
“Sure,” Mom said. “Are you going to get those jeans you were telling me about?”
Elena shook her head. “I decided I don’t really need more clothes. I’m going to get something else.”
Mom looked surprised. “OK.”
At the store, Elena showed her mom a necklace with a butterfly pendant.
“Courtney loves butterflies,” Elena explained. “She’s having a really hard time right now. She’s failing one of her classes. She tries so hard, but sometimes she can’t study when she’s feeling down.”
Mom nodded. “I know. Her mom is worried about her.” She smiled at Elena. “I’m proud of you for being so thoughtful.”
Before school the next day, Elena handed the gift to her friend. When Courtney pulled the necklace out, a smile spread across her face.
“Wow. Thank you! It’s perfect,” she said, slipping the necklace over her head. The butterfly’s wings sparkled in the sunlight. Courtney gave Elena a hug. “I’m so lucky to have you for a friend.”
Elena hugged her back. “We’re lucky to have each other.”

Just over eight months ago, a monstrous hurricane swept into Florida. Jack Demaree of the Montgomery Alabama Stake and many like him drove over two thousand miles round trip, using their vacation time to assist the hurricane victims. He brought back an article from a Florida newspaper: “In hot, humid conditions Saturday, about 12,000 volunteers—including 9,000 Mormon church members from six states who brought chain saws, plywood and tar paper—swarmed into South Florida. … So many people [were] at work that only two hundred showed up Saturday morning for an outdoor prayer service … despite the … prediction that more than 5,000 would attend” (Sheryl Stolberg, “Tent Cities Begin to Fill In,” Ocala, Florida, newspaper, 6 Sept. 1992).
In my conversation with Brother Demaree about his experience, he said, “All I did was cut up trees that were blown down by the hurricane.”

I was reminded of this beautiful concept of collective missionary work when I received an email one day. A brother who said he was the son of the mission president in Wichita, Kansas, wondered if I was the wife of Robert Monson. The brother went on to say he was looking for the Elder Monson who served in the Central States Mission in 1959. That was my husband.
He told me about two young elders, Elders Bennett and Thompson, who were inspired recently to enter an apartment building. They rapped on the first door and found an elderly lady who invited them to come back the next day. They set a time.
When they returned for the appointment, they learned that this elderly sister had an old triple combination (Book of Mormon, Doctrine and Covenants, and Pearl of Great Price) the missionaries had given her in 1959. She had read it many times and knew the teachings in it were true. She had not joined the Church then because her husband did not want her to attend church or be baptized. Her husband had passed away recently, and she prayed that she might find the missionaries again. In her triple combination were the names of the two missionaries from 1959: Robert Monson and Granade Curran, my husband and his companion.
Over the next several weeks, this woman learned about the plan of salvation and the blessings of the temple. Her son had passed away at age 22, and she was thrilled at the possibility of being reunited with him. When the missionaries invited her to be baptized, she joyfully accepted their invitation.
Both my husband and his companion, Elder Curran, have passed away, but I can imagine them attending this beautiful baptism from beyond the veil.
As the mission president’s son told me the story, I was reminded that the Savior does not forget any of us. He is always with us if we allow Him into our lives. The New Testament tells the story of Zacchaeus, who climbed a sycamore tree to see the Savior (see Luke 19:1–10). Even up in the tree, Zacchaeus was found by the Savior, who asked to dine at his home. Similarly, an elderly sister prayed and waited for the missionaries to knock on her door, and they did. The Savior knows all of us. “For the Son of man is come to seek and to save that which [is] lost” (Luke 19:10).
Two sets of missionaries—one over 60 years ago and then one more recently—brought this sister to Jesus Christ and in turn strengthened their own testimonies and found joy in the Lord. I am humbled that I could be a bystander in this story, feeling the joy of all involved in bringing this sister to the Savior (see Doctrine and Covenants 18:15).

Amid my despair, I remembered a time that our ward held an activity called “Christmas in Bethlehem.” Ward members came dressed up as if they were living at the time Jesus was born. Erica, who was four years old at the time, wore a hand-me-down long, white dress and a scarf wrapped around her head. The culmination of the evening was a reenactment of the Nativity in a mock stable decorated with bales of hay and a manger. A young couple with their newborn played the parts of Mary, Joseph, and the baby Jesus.
As we gathered around the nativity, I noticed that Erica was missing from my side. I panicked until I caught a flash of her white dress near the nativity. Then my panic shifted from fear for her welfare to fear that she would disrupt the scene. I was about to call out to her, but I paused and watched as she made her way to the manger.
Erica quietly knelt next to Mary and looked up at her as if to get her permission. Then Erica reached out and tenderly caressed the sleeping baby. I was not the only one who noticed. Others soon quieted and watched as she knelt close to the baby. A tender feeling permeated the group as they realized that this baby was the Christ child for Erica.
In my grief, this Christmas memory brought feelings of peace and comfort as I recalled my young daughter’s devotion. My mind had been full of questions about life and death—questions that didn’t seem to matter as much before Erica’s death. As I pondered the Resurrection and the Crucifixion, I identified with Mary. She loved her newborn Son, and she later endured terrible pain and anguish as she witnessed His suffering and death. Christ was not spared the cross, and Mary was not spared her grief.

This important truth was evidenced some years ago as a member of the Seventy was on assignment in Hong Kong. He visited a very humble ward that was struggling in many ways, unable to provide for its own needs. As the bishop described their situation, the General Authority felt the impression to have the members pay their tithing. The bishop, knowing their dire circumstances, was concerned about how he could carry out that counsel. He thought about it and decided he would approach some of the most faith-filled members of his ward and ask them to pay their tithing. The next Sunday he went to the Primary. He taught the children about the Lord’s law of tithing and asked if they would be willing to pay tithing on the money they earned. The children said they would. And they did.
The bishop later went to the adults in the ward and shared with them that for the past six months their faithful children had been paying tithing. He asked them if they would be willing to follow the example of these children and do the same. The people were so touched by the sacrifices the children were willing to make that they did what was necessary to pay their tithing. And the windows of heaven were opened. With the example of these faithful children, a ward grew in obedience and in testimony.

Meet Brother Astus (right) who followed a friend to the gathering place activities in the Calabar Nigeria Stake and enrolled in a video editing and photography class. Shortly thereafter, he began attending the Calabar institute as well. Astus’s talent for photography was recognized, and he began to cover all the single adult activities, institute activities, weddings and more. He not only fell in love with photography, but he fell in love with the restored gospel of Jesus Christ and was baptized.

When Harold was very young, he wanted to go to school like his older brother.
Harold: May I please go to school with Perry, Mama? I want to go to school!
Mother: No, Harold, you are too young. When you are Perry’s age, you can go.
Harold kept begging. Finally one day, his mother relented.
Harold: When can I go to school with Perry, Mama? Can I go today?
Mother: You may go with Perry this morning if you promise to be a good boy and sit quietly and not disturb the other children.
Harold walked excitedly beside Perry up the two-mile path to school.
Harold: I bet I can beat you to school!
Perry: Oh yeah? I’ll race you!
Sister Howell recognized Harold because he was also in her Primary class.
Sister Howell: Harold, what a surprise to see you at school today! Here are some crayons for you to play with while I teach the older children their lessons.
Harold became so absorbed with his crayons and paper that he didn’t notice Mrs. Howell watching over his shoulder.
Sister Howell: You have written all of the ABCs and your name! You should come to school every day. I’ll speak to your mother about it.
That afternoon, Sister Howell came to visit.
Sister Howell: You have taught Harold well. I think he should come to school with Perry every day.
Mother: But other boys Harold’s age won’t start school for two more years. Are you sure he is ready?
Sister Howell: Yes. I’m sure.
Harold always loved school. He decided to become a teacher. For many years he was involved in education throughout Idaho and Utah.

I have a blog where I write about modest fashion and style, because it can be challenging to dress modestly in a world where modesty is unpopular. I used to rely on my parents’ testimonies. I didn’t have my own until I was a young woman and started attending seminary. I found a desire to read the scriptures, and that’s when my faith began to grow. Now I feel in my heart for myself that the gospel of Jesus Christ is true.
Laura P., 18, Philippines

One woman came up to me in tears after Relief Society one day and said, “I’m about ready to give up on him. I thought a year would bring some changes, but he’s not more ready to become active than he was last year. I feel like the Lord has failed me. Why should I keep trying if he’ll never change?”
After listening and searching for understanding, I asked, “You say you are still trying. Have you been devoting yourself to your own spiritual nourishment lately, as you were a year ago when you felt such promise for the relationship?”
“No,” she answered, “I haven’t felt like praying, and with moving to another home, I haven’t felt like I’ve had time for studying.”
“Well,” I confided, “I know that when I begin to lose faith in my husband and in our relationship, or when I start to become critical, I find that I have been starving my own spirit. But as I begin to restore a sweet spirit within me, I see my husband with new faith and love.”
A few weeks later, this woman called to tell me that through recommitting herself to a program of spiritual feedings, she once again had hope in her husband and in their marriage. She said, “I was wrong. There has been a change in him. It is so slight that I had overlooked it before.”

One morning I was walking up a steep hill on the south side of the Brigham Young University campus when I heard a crash behind me. I turned around and saw a young man lying facedown on the pavement, his bike several yards away in pieces. I stood in shock until he weakly tried to lift his head. Then I hurried toward him, along with four other people who had been walking up the hill.
The student who reached the biker first carefully turned him over, revealing severe cuts on the biker’s lips, nose, chin, and eyebrow. Another student called for help on his cell phone. A young mother standing next to me offered a piece of cloth, and the first student stanched the biker’s bleeding lip with it. A second woman and I stood by, anxiously waiting for paramedics to come.
The injured man’s eyes flickered open, and he looked in confusion at the faces around him.
“Where am I?” he said. “What happened?”
The student holding the cloth to his lips answered, “You’re on the south side of campus. You crashed your bike.”
The biker groaned. “It hurts,” he said. “Help me.”
The student said that help was on the way and asked the young man his name.
“David,” he said, sobbing softly. “Where am I?” he asked again.
An older man in a suit—likely a professor—approached and asked David if he wanted a blessing. He nodded gratefully.
The professor paused. “I don’t have any oil, though,” he said, looking around. Those nearby shook their heads. The injured young man groaned and feebly gestured toward his pocket. The student next to him reached inside it and pulled out a large key ring with a small vial of consecrated oil attached.
“He has some!” exclaimed the student.
The biker calmed down as soon as the professor and the male students laid their hands on his head and gave him a blessing. A feeling of calm came over me too as the professor promised the young man that he would recover, be at peace, and draw nearer to the Savior through this experience.
Soon the paramedics came and took the biker away. As I walked to class, I realized that he carried consecrated oil with him so he could use the priesthood to bless someone in need. This day, however, he himself was blessed. I left with a deep feeling of love for faithful men who live ready to bless others and for the Lord, who also blesses them.

Two friends were walking along the side of a busy street, when one asked the other:
“Do you hear that cricket?”
The friend replied, “Are you kidding? How can you possibly hear a cricket with all of this noise?”
A few steps later they saw the cricket on a tree branch.
“It is incredible!” said the friend. “You have a superhuman ear!”
The first replied: “My hearing is as normal as yours. Watch.”
At that moment, he tossed a few coins to the ground, and all the people within ten meters turned to see where the tinkling sound was coming from.
The friend concluded by saying: “As you can see, it all depends on what one chooses to listen to.”1