Gospel Story Finder

Jonathan sighed as he moved his food around his plate with his fork.
“Paseme la ensalada, por favor,” his sister Jasmine said. Mom passed the salad to Jasmine across the table.
“Muy bien,” said Mom. “You’re getting pretty good at Spanish.”
“I’m sure trying!” Jasmine said. “I’m glad Jonathan is in class with me. I learn a lot by hearing him speak.”
“Thanks,” Jonathan said.
“What? Don’t you mean gracias?” teased Jasmine.
“Sorry, I guess I’m just not in the mood right now,” Jonathan said.
“Is everything OK?” Dad asked.
Jonathan sighed again. “Well, I like Spanish, and our teacher is really nice. But she uses Heavenly Father’s name to swear a lot.”
“Yeah,” Jasmine said. “I’ve noticed that too.”
“It makes me feel sad,” said Jonathan. “I’ve been thinking about talking to her about it.”
“That’s a great idea,” Dad said. “I know Heavenly Father will help you know what to say.”
Later that night, Jonathan prayed about talking to his teacher. He wanted to talk to her about it, but he felt so nervous! What if she got angry? Jonathan asked Heavenly Father to help him talk to his teacher in a good way.
The next morning, Jonathan and Jasmine hurried off to school. Spanish was the first class of the day and went by quickly. Before Jonathan knew it, it was time to pack up his books. The other students started walking to their next class, but Jonathan hung back. Mrs. Gomez was erasing the board.
“Mrs. Gomez?”
“Oh, Jonathan, I didn’t know you were still here,” Mrs. Gomez said, turning around. “Can I help you with something?”
Jonathan said a silent prayer in his heart. Please help me know what to say.
“I wanted to say thanks for being a great Spanish teacher,” Jonathan said. “Jasmine and I are learning a lot, and we even talk to each other in Spanish at home.”
“I’m so glad to hear that,” Mrs. Gomez said.
“There’s just one thing,” said Jonathan. His stomach did a flip-flop.
Mrs. Gomez smiled kindly. “What is it?”
“Sometimes in class you swear with Heavenly Father’s name, and it makes me feel sad.”
Everything was quiet for a second. When Mrs. Gomez spoke, she didn’t sound angry at all. “I’m so glad you told me. I didn’t even realize I was doing that. I will work on not saying that anymore.”
Jonathan’s nervousness melted away. He gave Mrs. Gomez a big smile. “Thank you.”
Mrs. Gomez smiled back at him. “Thank you for having the courage to come talk to me. It’s not easy to talk to a teacher about something like this. But you did it in such a respectful and mature way. I’m proud of you.”
Jonathan felt happy as he walked out of the classroom. It hadn’t been easy to talk to Mrs. Gomez, but Heavenly Father had answered his prayer. The Holy Ghost had helped him know what to say. And maybe Mrs. Gomez had felt the Holy Ghost touch her heart too.
Gracias, Heavenly Father. Jonathan said another prayer in his heart. Muchas gracias.

Tying shoes? Well, try doing it one-handed.
His drive to excel was magnified by the fact that he had to overcome unusual obstacles, like learning to tie those shoes.
“That took forever,” he says. “I didn’t tie my shoes until I was about 10. I’d just walk up to people and say, ‘Will you tie my shoe?’ Now I can do it pretty easily.”
Of course, his parents offered him an incentive. They told him that if he wanted the new pair of sneakers he was so eager to get, he would have to learn to tie them. So, though it wasn’t easy, he did it.

I would like to thank you very much for the article “Bowl ’em Over” in the September 1984 New Era. The eager anticipation shown in the photos of the youth brought back many fond and exciting memories from over a year ago when I was in my last year of seminary.
I remembered how our little seminary group studied for long hours almost every time we met (once each week) to be the best scripture chasers in our district (the Dubois District in the Pennsylvania Pittsburg Mission).
At the end of the year, Kelly, Amy, and Debbie Starner, Jody Johnson, my sister Dona, and I fulfilled our promise that we had made to our wonderful teacher, Sister Betty Adams. We won the championship blue ribbons as the best team. Amy and I were the top male-female chasers in the district.
The great love we shared at each Super Saturday, the competition, and the other activities brought us all a little bit closer to each other and the Lord. I’m very grateful for those special occasions that touched my spirit, helping me in a time when I was struggling for a real testimony of my own.

Dad got us a job mowing the lawn of our meetinghouse. We used an old push lawn mower. At that time, the Church was just beginning to buy power lawn mowers. But my father, who had a calling in the stake, said, “We don’t need a power mower. My boys will take care of it.” Some parts of the lawn were very thick and hard to mow, so we attached a rope to the front of the mower. One brother pulled on the rope while the other pushed the mower. People laughed as they went by and saw us doing this, but it worked!

When Austin Johnson asked his grandfather to help him complete the Genealogy merit badge requirements, he didn’t realize how much he’d enjoy researching his family tree. “I found a bunch of cool ties in my ancestors, like Benjamin F. Johnson, who was one of the best friends of the Prophet Joseph Smith. It makes me feel grateful that they decided to go through what wasn’t necessarily easy for them, because it changed how I live.”

He had no trouble getting up. The alarm would go off, and Chris Muraski was wide awake. Things to do, you know.
No, getting up was never the problem. Being where he was supposed to be was.
Here’s the scoop. At 5:30 A.M., Chris would get dressed, grab a banana, head out the door, and go straight for a couple of blocks. He then had a choice. He could continue driving for another block until he arrived at Libertyville High School in this Chicago suburb. Or he could hang a left and go to Libertyville’s civic center for early-morning seminary.
For two years Chris never used his turn signal on that morning drive.
As a freshman he attended seminary. He even went for part of his sophomore year.
But come on. He was an outside linebacker and he wanted to get stronger. Early-morning weight lifting—extra work on his own—would make him a better player. It was something he had to do.
Midway through that second year of high school, Chris decided he’d skip early-morning seminary even if it would make him a better person.
During the two years he was in the weight room, Chris got stronger and became a solid high school football player, playing for a very good team. The weight lifting was paying off. Unfortunately, injuries began occurring—more specifically, concussions.
“It’s ironic because that’s when the concussions started—when I stopped going to seminary,” he says.
The concussions, bruisings of the brain due to hard hits, were a bit scary because of both pain and memory loss.
The first concussion came during Chris’s sophomore year. He took a hit to the head that forced him to sit out the second half of a game. “It was like waking up from a dream. I couldn’t remember the plays before. I couldn’t remember where I was supposed to go. It took me 10 minutes to pull it all together,” he remembers. “I wanted to go back in during the fourth quarter but the coaches wouldn’t let me.”
Then during the second game of his junior season in 1997, after being cleared to play, Chris took another hit to the head and the result was another concussion. This time it was a bit more serious. It was a kickoff return, and Chris came in for the tackle. Much of that play is a foggy memory, but he does remember this vital statistic: the guy that leveled Chris was six-foot-six and 250 pounds.
“The guy that hit me was huge. I just went full blast into him, and that pretty much ended my season right there,” he says.
It’s worth mentioning that despite the extra work in the weight room, Chris only tipped the scales at a lean 152 that year. It was hardly a fair fight.
After sitting out much of the season on doctors’ orders, Chris played in one more game, then sustained a third concussion in practice. “That was it. I didn’t know if I would even be able to play the next year. The doctors were concerned, and I didn’t want to mess up my brain,” Chris says. “I didn’t feel very confident that I’d be fine, that I wouldn’t have any more problems.”
Chris, at the time a priest in the Buffalo Grove Second Ward, Buffalo Grove Stake, thought often about his love for football. Would he ever play again? Would there be any long-term effects from the blows to the head? These were all questions a high school junior didn’t want to face.
That summer Chris’s bishop approached him. He didn’t want to talk about football. Instead he asked him, “So, Chris, how’s seminary coming?”
But the bishop already knew the answer. When he asked Chris if he would start attending again, Chris said, “No, probably not.” The weight lifting was still too important. At least that’s what he thought.
“I was still active. I was going to church every week. I wasn’t in the gutter,” he explains. “But I wasn’t doing all the little extra things.”
Like going to seminary.
Chris began thinking about his choices, about seminary, about his future. And it wasn’t like he disliked seminary the one year he did regularly attend.
Later the bishop approached Chris again. He had something important to tell him. Chris said that the bishop talked to him and promised him that if he would go to seminary, the Lord would bless him and he wouldn’t have problems with concussions. But Chris needed to aim for 100 percent attendance.
“When he said what he said, I thought, I’ll do it. So I put my faith in what the bishop promised me right there.”
On the first day of seminary to begin the 1997–98 school year, there sat Chris Muraski.
He’d finally made the left turn.
Chris missed exactly one day of seminary last year—because of a conflict with wrestling. But he made that day up. He also didn’t miss one football game during a year when he was one of Libertyville’s team captains. Last summer he earned a spot on an Illinois all-star team that traveled to Australia.
And he never came close to getting another concussion.
“I regret putting lifting in front of seminary,” he says now. “Every morning I was at seminary I felt I was in the right spot, and I got that spiritual flavor that kind of gives you that boost. I feel more spiritual. My testimony has grown from it, from striving to be better.”
Once upon a time Chris was bench pressing 240 pounds. Today it’s down to 200.
Yeah, he may have lost 40 pounds off his bench press, but after returning to seminary, Chris was still plenty strong.

Recently I was reading “A Plague on the World” in the July 1990 issue. This article talked about the problems associated with the “use of illegal drugs.” I wish it had also warned about the dangers of inappropriately using prescription and over-the-counter drugs. There are many young people (such as myself) who, in trying to live the gospel, have never even touched an illegal drug. But in the process of seeking relief from physical problems, we are given “legal” medications which can also become addicting. Even though I was sneaking around and lying in order to get more pills, I convinced myself I wasn’t doing anything wrong because, after all, these drugs were not illegal. I am not a bad person. I graduated from early-morning seminary. I have not committed any sexual sins. I have never even smoked a cigarette or had a cup of coffee. I believe in the gospel, and I never meant to do anything wrong. I think the New Era would do a great service to its readers by informing them of the dangers of all drugs.
Name Withheld

“The Family: A Proclamation to the World” teaches my family the importance of work. Have the children hold up fingers to count each of the nine principles while you read paragraph 7 from “The Family: A Proclamation to the World,” beginning with “Successful marriages and families” and ending with “wholesome recreational activities.” See if they can remember the eighth principle (work). To teach the importance and value of work, tell the following story about President Dieter F. Uchtdorf. As a young boy, he worked at his parents’ laundry business, delivering laundry before and after school. For many years he had to ride a big, heavy bicycle, pulling a laundry cart up and down the streets of their town. He said, “Sometimes the cart seemed so heavy and the work so tiring that I thought my lungs would burst, and I often had to stop to catch my breath. Nevertheless, I did my part because I knew we desperately needed the income as a family, and it was my way to contribute.” Dieter knew his hard work as a delivery boy was helping his family. But it wasn’t until many years later that he learned how his hard work helped cure him of a lung disease he never knew he had. He said, “My regular exercise in fresh air as a laundry boy had been a key factor in my healing from this illness” (“See the End from the Beginning,” Ensign, May 2006, 43).

Brothers and sisters, if I say anything worthwhile here this morning it will be because you exercise faith enough to induce the Lord to bless me on the spur of the moment. I had not prepared nor expected to speak here. I feel a little like the young man who, in the early days on his first lecture tour, came out here in the West. As he spoke he became nervous because he saw two cowboys fingering their revolvers and lariats. At the close of his speech, as they came up the aisle he really became excited. When they reached him, however, they said, “Don’t feel frightened, young man. We know you did the best you could. What we are looking for is the one who brought you here.”

I have experienced many opportunities. One occurred 21 years ago, prior to the time when the German Democratic Republic—or East Germany, as it was more commonly known—was freed from Communist rule. I was visiting with the East German state secretary, Minister Gysi. At that time our temple at Freiberg, in East Germany, was under construction, along with two or three meetinghouses. Minister Gysi and I visited on a number of subjects, including our worldwide building program. He then asked, “Why is your church so wealthy that you can afford to build buildings in our country and throughout the world? How do you get your money?”
I answered that the Church is not wealthy but that we follow the ancient biblical principle of tithing, which principle is reemphasized in our modern scripture. I explained also that our Church has no paid ministry and indicated that these were two reasons why we were able to build the buildings then under way, including the beautiful temple at Freiberg.
Minister Gysi was most impressed with the information I presented, and I was very grateful I was able to answer his questions.

This testimony sustained me when I realized I just couldn’t provide for our needs and we had to leave our home. Jonathan was taken to live with my mother’s side of the family, but Ephraim and I chose to stay with our other grandparents because they were members of the Church. In their home we arose early to do chores before school, then cared for our grandfather late into the night. It was exhausting. However, the Lord was mindful of us, and we stayed close to the Church. Every time I felt like giving up, I was reminded of the special moments I had had with my siblings as we read from the Book of Mormon surrounding a lamp. I know Christ was there beside us in those difficult times. From the moment our family members separated from one another, He did not forsake us. “I know that my Redeemer lives!”

Now, years later, I still have the picture of those words from above my bed in my heart and mind. That message has helped my brother Ephraim and me in our years of service as full-time missionaries and in striving now to live celestial marriages.

I could have missed a lot in my life had I doubted instead of trusting Christ. No matter how difficult life is, it has never been too difficult for the Savior, who suffered in Gethsemane. He can sustain one’s life with one sentence. He knows everything from the beginning to the end. His comfort is more powerful than any heartache this life can bring. Through His Atonement, there is no permanent problem—only constant hope, grace, peace, and love. Believe me, I know! I know that my Redeemer lives!

One day I went for a stroll with my two daughters, aged three and four. We walked by beautiful homes and gardens with flowers of spectacular colors. We saw tall trees with disorderly wildflowers clustered around them, which were lovely, too.
Then the girls saw some dandelions that were blooming like small bright suns. They each picked one. To their disappointment, the yellow blossoms soon withered into grey shadows.
“Why did you pick them?” I asked, thinking it was time for a lesson.
“Because they were so pretty!” both cried.
“Are they pretty now?”
“No,” answered my older daughter. “Throw them away!”
I explained that it’s best to admire nature without interfering. When living things are rooted up, they weaken and die. The girls understood.
They returned to their play, while I thought about those little flowers. I remembered the less-active people at church whose testimonies didn’t receive the nurturing necessary to survive difficult times. How easy it is, I thought, if our testimonies are not rooted in faith and constantly nourished, for them to wither and die.
Suddenly my heart trembled as I recognized in this humble analogy the answer to a problem that had been troubling me.
My husband had stopped going to church, and I had been contemplating becoming less active myself, just to avoid conflict. It would, I reasoned, be only “temporary.” I had been praying, trying to know the right thing to do. Now Heavenly Father had given me the answer.
That night when my husband came home, I told him about our outing and about the dandelions. I told him that if I did truly love him—and he knew that I did—it was due, in great part, to the attention and care I received at church. It was because each Sunday I was in the Lord’s garden, being fed by his Spirit and by the love of my brothers and sisters. It was because I was watered every day as I read the scriptures. All of these things helped to make me the person that loved him. They made me the person that he loved.
He smiled and gave me a kiss as a token of peace. And I gave thanks for the message I had received that day—in the form of two dandelions.

In the life of Florence Chukwurah, the miracle of change has been gloriously visible. She was born into a life of poverty in Onitsha, Nigeria. Her father, who worked at sea on a ship, was rarely at home. Florence’s mother was not educated and worked hard to feed the family.

As Florence approached young womanhood, she began to realize just how poor her family was. By the time she was about 11 years old, a steadfast resolution had formed in her mind: She would escape from poverty. What made this more than a childish wish was that she also made several powerful commitments. These, she felt, would help her find a better life. First, she recalls, “I determined to break from poverty by seeking God earnestly.” Besides this fundamental decision, she made three practical resolutions. “I decided to be obedient to my parents and to older people. I decided to be serious with my schoolwork. And I made up my mind to work hard with my hands.”

Hard work had long been a constant fact of Florence’s life. She hauled water for the family from the public taps or from a stream. She fetched firewood from the countryside and cut it up for cooking fuel. And she helped her mother with the laborious preparation of the cassava root—the family’s staple food.

After school, there were younger children to tend and feed and schoolwork to do. On Saturdays, there was laundry to wash at the public taps. Even on holidays, Florence bought and sold vegetables to help pay her school fees.

All this Florence could do with a willing heart because of the decisions she had made as an 11-year-old girl. “I was happy doing these things as a way to demonstrate my love for my family and also to honor my father and mother,” she explains.

Florence Chukwurah has a special understanding for children from poor backgrounds—especially those who feel shy because of poverty or lack of education. Visiting the branches of the Ghana Accra Mission as the mission president’s wife, Sister Chukwurah carried a special message to such young people. “We were visiting a small branch,” Sister Chukwurah recalls. Many of the young people could not read, and many were not coming to church. “The Spirit said, ‘Tell them the story of your life.’ So I told them that I grew up in similar circumstances. I told them that I was able to overcome my shyness by studying and by obeying my parents and teachers.”

As a young girl, Florence deepened her commitment to schoolwork when she noticed neighbors who were educated. The parents of several of her girlhood friends were teachers and headmasters.

Florence became interested in nursing partly because she liked the way nurses dressed. Taking care of her brothers and sisters had also developed her natural interest in helping others. Her father had borrowed money from a moneylender to pay for her secondary schooling, a debt which Florence later repaid. But she could not afford to attend a university or teacher’s college. The government would subsidize her in nursing school, however. So at age 16, Florence traveled six hours away from her home to begin her training as a nurse.

The year Florence graduated from her training at Queen Elizabeth Hospital, she was given the Florence Nightingale Award for best nurse of the year. She continued her education, finishing her training as a midwife five years later, in 1970.

The Young Men and Young Women of the Terreton 2nd Ward, Roberts Idaho Stake, collected and made toys for children in Acuna, Mexico.
The Young Women crocheted the clothing for 32 dolls. The Young Men made trucks, slingshots, and sets of blocks. A missionary couple from the Terreton 2nd Ward had been working with the people in this area of Mexico. The couple suggested the service project to the young people, who met the challenge with enthusiasm.

Illustrations by Katie McDee
Grandma, how old are you?
186!
What?! You can’t be that old.
I’m only joking! But I’m still old. And do you know how I’ve lived this long?
How?
Because I always eat my vegetables!
Does eating vegetables really make you live longer?
It helps! When we take care of our bodies, God blesses us with strength and energy.
I think the stew is done! It smells good.
Time for a taste test!
Did we pass?
Yes! It’s delicious! And healthy too.
Maybe one day I’ll live to be 186.
Then you better eat your vegetables!

When I was 19 years old, one of my best friends was married. The wedding was wonderful, she looked beautiful, the groom was handsome, and they were happy. I, on the other hand, was a little distraught. I was caught off guard by what she was doing. She was altering my vision for her—and for me. I definitely wanted to get married, just not yet. I thought we were both so young, and here she was marrying not only before graduating from college, but before she had the chance to travel much or engage in intellectually stimulating career opportunities. I was up the night prior to her wedding, anxious about what would happen in her future, while she was sound asleep, rightly confident in her decision.
As I look back on my reaction, I have to smile. What was I thinking? I look at her life now: she has two lovely children and a loving home. A few months after her wedding it became clear to me that she had made the right decision, and it is even clearer now. I recognize that she was prayerful and thoughtful and trusted in God’s promptings to her.

What is that great need? During the last year I have tried to reach out to the youth at several youth conferences. From one of those youth conferences I received from a member of the stake presidency a note which suggests something that the world needs greatly.

He said, “One recently reactivated young man of about 15 years said in our fast and testimony meeting, ‘President Lee must have known that there was lots of wickedness and evil in the … area and that the kids here were in trouble, and just to think that he loves us enough to come all this way just to help us.’”

If it means nothing more to the youth, to the children, to those who are young adults, and those who are over those ages, than that all of this is to evidence a love for them that comes from the General Authorities and from their Heavenly Father, then we have yet accomplished much.

From this pulpit over 60 years ago, the president of the Church said, “It has been said that the Church is perfectly organized, and the only trouble is that these organizations are not alive to the obligations resting upon them. When they become thoroughly awakened to the requirements made of them, they will fulfill their duties more dutifully, and the work of the Lord will be stronger and more powerful and influential in the world.”

A few weeks ago we attended a conference back in New Jersey where we heard a wonderful sermon by the stake president on the importance of love. He said something to indicate how important that was in his boyhood life in his own home. He said, “Some of my greatest resources come from lessons learned in my youth from acts of love shown by my parents. I well remember when I was very young my mother was seriously ill. I had gotten up in the night to get a drink of water, and going into the kitchen, I noticed a light in my parents’ bedroom. On going to the door, I found father sitting quietly next to mother’s bed. She was asleep. He was just sitting there, appearing to be doing nothing. And so startled, I asked him what was wrong. Why wasn’t he in bed? My father’s answer was ‘Nothing is wrong, son. I am just watching over her.’ Later I learned that he sat each night by her side during the crisis, watching over her. And thinking of this I have often thought that truly love is kind and never faileth. The memory of this act of love, the light and warmth of that occasion have always had special meaning to me. It made me feel safe and secure, to see this strong and gentle man so concerned about those of his household. It gave me a deeper appreciation of my father and set a high standard for me to try to follow.”

We have said again and again, and I repeat it now, that the most important work we will ever do will be within the walls of our own homes. Give the child love in the home, and the home will give our auxiliaries well-adjusted children who can feel the lessons of love of God and man taught in the Church.

The experience of love in one’s early youth enables him to develop the ability to feel within the feelings the urges that create the attitudes that result in a truly religious life. It is these feelings that supply the motivation for good works.

If you can take with you now as you go back to your homes, you leaders of youth and young adults, and the Church membership, the feeling of love that we have just demonstrated, you will have set the stage for great and mighty things that will make this church more wonderful and more influential than it has ever been before in all the world. You have had unraveled before your eyes an evidence of the revelations of Almighty God in your day, as He has poured out His blessings in this a great step forward in building the kingdom of God.

COLIN: I still had my fair share of tough experiences, but I also had some good experiences. It was like half and half. I discovered that a lot of people are going through tough times, and that the gospel can remind them to look at the good side of life. One lady we taught was discouraged, and we talked to her about trying to be happy, about the real meaning of life and the plan of salvation. Later on, just as I left the mission field, she was baptized. I felt really good inside because I felt the Spirit, and I know she did too.

Perhaps an experience is the best explanation. A very promising young girl wanted to know what the Lord expected from her. She was one of the active forces in the MIA, a somewhat autocratic young lady. She came from six hundred miles away for the sole purpose of receiving her patriarchal blessing and learning what the Lord expected her to do. Because the blessing had to be translated first into the French language, she was forced to wait longer for it. She became impatient and asked me in a letter to inform her what the special message of her blessing was. Thereupon I consoled her with the answer: patience is the special message. After receipt of the translation she wrote to me again that she could not find the special message in her blessing. So I had to answer her that she should read the blessing again carefully and she would find some things therein that, if she would follow them, would make someone aware of her who would then tell her what she should do. Two years later she informed me that she was traveling to the temple to receive her endowments. She had been called on a mission to Scotland and wanted to see me again before leaving. In the meantime she had been responsible for several baptisms, her parents were attending meetings, her mother was trying to keep the Word of Wisdom, and her sister had been baptized.

Was something special contained in her blessing? Was her patience rewarded? Certainly. And this was only the beginning of a long, successful life. How and for what should one prepare oneself? We should not prepare ourselves for something just because another has received it. What the Lord expects of us is found in the example of Nathaniel (John 1:45–47), and therewith the readiness to do everything that may be expected for the fulfillment of the blessing given and to avoid everything that would detract from it.

One Sunday at a new ward, I sat alone during sacrament meeting. Afterward, I watched ward members talk to one another, but nobody introduced themselves to me, and I was too shy to start a conversation. As a more introverted person, I felt out of place in a ward that seemed like it was full of extroverted people. I felt like a failed member of the Church because they had skills of connection that I didn’t. So I went home before Sunday School.
I figured that being different socially prevented me from fitting in or unifying with my congregation. But over time, I’ve realized that a difference in social comfort or abilities doesn’t have to divide us or prevent us from worshipping. Rather, despite our differences in introversion and extroversion, we can all contribute unique abilities that God needs in His kingdom.