Gospel Story Finder

Brothers and sisters, the decisions we make in this life greatly affect the course of our eternal life. There are both seen and unseen forces that influence our choices. This point was brought home some five years ago in a way that almost cost me dearly.
We were traveling with family and friends in the south of Oman. We decided to relax on the beach along the coast of the Indian Ocean. Soon after our arrival, our 16-year-old daughter, Nellie, asked if she could swim out to what she thought was a sandbar. Noticing the choppy water, I told her that I would go first, thinking there might be dangerous currents.
After swimming a short while, I called to my wife, asking if I was close to the sandbar. Her response was, “You have gone way past it.” Unbeknownst to me I was trapped in a riptide1 and was being pulled rapidly out to sea.
I was unsure what to do. The only thing I could think of was to turn around and swim back toward shore. That was exactly the wrong thing to do. I felt helpless. Forces beyond my control were pulling me farther out to sea. What made matters worse was that my wife, trusting my decision, had followed me.
Brothers and sisters, I thought there was a high likelihood I would not survive and that I, because of my decision, would also cause my wife’s death. After great effort and what I believe was divine intervention, our feet somehow touched the sandy bottom and we were able to walk safely back to our friends and daughter.

“My dad’s been a less-active member of the Church now for 20-odd years,” Elder Barry says. “He’s fully supported the family; he just hasn’t come to church himself.

“But since I got my mission call, there’s been a change. The branch president said I could ask Dad to speak in sacrament meeting before I left. And Dad said it would be a pleasure! In the meeting he said he loved me and wanted the best for me on my mission.

“Just like that he’d given me a blessing straightaway. Those words meant a lot to me and to our family. Now I have a letter from him, and at the end he said, ‘Jim, do your best in the Lord’s work.’ I feel if I do and if I’m obedient, maybe Dad will understand how important the gospel is. So I’m going to do my best.”

The Young Women of the Mountain Home Fourth Ward, Mountain Home Idaho Stake, undertook a special service project for the mothers in the ward. On Mother’s Day the Young Women took over the entire Primary to give the leaders and teachers a chance to attend Relief Society and Sunday School.

Each girl was assigned a position, from leading sharing time and the music to teaching a class. Some of the younger girls chose to team teach. The Young Women dedicated themselves to preparing excellent lessons for the children.

In preparation for the service project, the Young Women received instruction on teaching lessons. They were anxious to put into action the things they learned.

In addition to this service project, the Young Women also set up baby-sitting services for ward temple day.

My second example comes from my own experience along my own Jericho Road. In about my tenth year, as Christmas approached, I yearned as only a boy can yearn for an electric toy train. I didn’t want the less expensive wind-up model train; rather, I wanted one that operated through the miracle of electricity. Economically, those years were very difficult, yet Mother and Dad, through some sacrifice, I am sure, presented to me on Christmas morning a beautiful electric train.
For hours I ran the train, watching the engine first pull its rail cars forward, then push them backward around the track. Mother entered the living room and said to me that she had purchased a wind-up train for Mrs. Hansen’s son Mark, who lived down the lane. I asked if I could see the train. The engine was short and blocky—not long and sleek like the expensive model I had received. However, I did take notice of an oil tanker car that was part of his inexpensive set. My train had no such car, and I began to feel pangs of envy. I put up such a fuss that Mother finally gave in to my pleadings and handed me the oil tanker car. She said, “If you need it more than Mark, you take it.” I put it with my train set and felt pleased with the result.
Mother and I took the remaining cars and the engine down to Mark Hansen, who was a year or two older than I. He had never anticipated such a gift and was thrilled beyond words. He wound the key in his engine, and was overjoyed as it pulled the little train around the track. Mother wisely asked, “What do you think of Mark’s train, Tommy?” I felt a keen sense of guilt and became very much aware of my selfishness. I said to Mother, “Wait just a moment—I’ll be right back.”
As swiftly as my legs could carry me, I ran to our home, picked up the oil tanker car, plus an additional car of my own, ran back down the lane to the Hansen home, and said joyfully to Mark, “We forgot to bring two cars that belong to your train.” Mark coupled the two extra cars to his train. I watched the engine make its labored way around the track and felt a supreme joy difficult to describe and impossible to forget.
Some remember Mother for the little poems she would make up and recite, others for the music she played, songs sung, favors given, or stories told; but I remember best that day we together traveled homeward along our Jericho Road and, like the good Samaritan, found a cherished opportunity to help.

He had been home about seven months when he ran into “Sister Morgado” at a multistake dance. Ulisses had served as her zone leader for a time, and the two spent the evening catching up and sharing mission stories. Three weeks later, they began dating.

Rosana Fernandes Morgado was eight when her older sister, Margareth, began taking her to church. Eventually, the two faithful young investigators received permission from their father to be baptized, but each had to wait until she was 17. Rosana attended church for nine years before receiving permission to be baptized.

Ulisses lived in northern São Paulo, and Rosana lived with her parents in the city’s southern sector. Travel across the sprawling city took two to three hours by bus and subway. Fortunately, Margareth and her husband, Claudio, lived near her parents’ home.

“When Ulisses came on weekends to date Rosana, it was tough for him to return home so far at night,” recalls Elder Claudio R. M. Costa, General Authority Seventy, of his future brother-in-law. So, he and Margareth invited Ulisses to spend the night at their home after his dates. “We adopted him for a while,” Elder Costa adds.

“He would sleep on the couch in our living room,” says Sister Costa. “We were recently married, so we didn’t have extra blankets. But he would cover himself with an old curtain we had. He was happy because he could see Rosana again the next day. He was good to my sister, and my parents liked him very much.”

Ulisses and Rosana were married in the São Paulo Brazil Temple on October 30, 1982.

This summer my family went on vacation to California. On the way we stayed overnight at a motel with a swimming pool. We went swimming for a while, then got out. Later my two sisters and I decided we wanted to swim some more. We dressed in our swimming suits and went back to the pool. Near the pool we saw a sign that said the pool was closed. We talked about what we should do. I remembered what I had learned in Primary and told my two sisters, “We should choose the right.” We decided to obey the sign and not go swimming. The next morning after breakfast we went swimming again.

My son-in-law, now serving as a bishop in my home stake, received a great blessing from his own regular temple attendance.
During one visit to the temple, he had the opportunity to meet our daughter, Emily. After returning home that evening, he shared with members of his family that he had the impression he had met his wife. After a short courtship, Jaxon asked for my daughter’s hand in marriage and they were sealed in that same temple for time and eternity.

The temple was as beautiful inside as it was outside. Everyone there was so nice, and there was a warm and peaceful spirit there. It was different than anything I had felt before. Everything was exactly perfect. My aunt brought names of some family members who hadn’t been baptized yet. As we were waiting, my mom and aunt and I imagined what these women were like when they lived on earth 300 years ago. It was special to have my dad baptize me for them.
Seeing everyone in white made me feel like I was surrounded by angels. The temple is like heaven on earth.

When David O. McKay was a young boy, his two older sisters died of illnesses within a week of each other.
Mother: I don’t know why Margaret and Ellena died, but we can trust in the Lord’s will and remember that we will see them again.
Not long after this trial of their faith, David’s father was called on a mission to Scotland, the land where he was born.
Father: I can’t go on a mission now! The girls aren’t here to help you, and a new baby is coming. I’ll ask to have the call postponed.
Mother: It is the Lord’s will for you to go on a mission right now, and I trust Him. David and I will manage just fine.
While his father served a mission, seven-year-old David was “the man of the house.” He milked cows, fed livestock, and did household chores.
When David’s younger sister Annie was born, she brought joy to the whole family.
David: She’s so pretty, Mother! Father will be proud.
When David’s father returned home two years later, he was overjoyed to see his family and his new daughter. He was amazed to see that a new addition had also been built onto the house.
Father: Children, your mother is a miracle. Look at what she has accomplished while I’ve been gone.
Mother: The Lord has watched over us.

A number of years ago President Bateman and I left our home in the United States to live in Ghana, West Africa. It was in the 1960s. There were no members of the Church in Ghana then. President Bateman was a lecturer in economics at the University of Ghana. He was also engaged in research for his doctoral thesis. Our family consisted of Merrill, myself, and two little boys—Michael and Mark. Michael was three years old, and Mark was 10 months old.

At the time Ghana’s population was about 7 million people. You cannot imagine how lonely it was. We had been given permission by President Hugh B. Brown of the First Presidency to hold sacrament meetings in our home. Each Sunday we gathered together, and President Bateman would prepare, bless, and pass the sacrament to our little boys and me. We would sing Primary songs and tell the children stories about Jesus, and then President Bateman and I would share our testimonies of the gospel and our love for our family. We had one another’s companionship, which was wonderful, but it was lonely. We missed the association and strength that comes from being a part of a ward or branch where we could serve and be served. We missed the diversity of gifts that are found in a larger group. We missed the friendships that exist among brothers and sisters in the gospel who share common goals and principles of truth.

The seminary students say that putting on the Nativity scene is the best part of the week. Their goal in reenacting the Nativity is to bring others closer to the Savior, which is why they are willing to put in hours of practice time and brave sub-zero temperatures in order to perform it. “I was freezing to death, but I was still happy that I was doing something to make a difference in someone’s life,” says Mike Kelly, 16. “I was willing to stay out there to do that.”

In summer 2017, the Page family participated in the British Pageant at the Preston, England Temple.
Preparations began early in January, with applications to be made, auditions to attend, and accommodations to organise. We were very excited to receive our phone call from Peter Trebilcock (the pageant director at the time). He told us that we had been accepted into the family cast. We were then set apart by our bishop, who said our children were the youngest he had ever set apart for a calling!
Our time at the British Pageant was very busy, with long days of rehearsing, many late nights, and makeshift meals. But it was wonderful— we made some new friends, grew through the expertise of all the directors and had many spiritual experiences and opportunities to give testimony.
One of the highlights was a visit from President M. Russell Ballard, an Apostle. My husband, Matthew, who was working on the security team, had the privilege of ferrying President Ballard around the site in a golf cart! We also had visits from President and Sister Kieron, and President and Sister McReynolds of the Manchester England Mission.
At the end of the performance each night, it was our privilege to speak with our visitors about their experience at the pageant. Many were not members of our Church, while others had not attended for a very long time. There were many positive stories of people feeling the Holy Ghost, as well as compliments as to the quality of the event.
The British Pageant is a truly worthwhile experience, and we wholeheartedly recommend getting involved!

I have a five-year old grandson named Carson. A couple of years ago, when he was about three, his sister came into the house with a bag of fruit snacks. When her mother asked where she had gotten the snacks, she reported that Carson had given them to her. On further investigation, his mother discovered he had been sharing these fruit snacks with several of the neighbors. His mother called him in and questioned him about where he had obtained the snacks since they did not have any. Carson replied that he was getting them out of the neighbor’s garage. His now concerned mother said, “Carson, you can’t go in the neighbor’s garage and take things that don’t belong to you.” Carson replied, “But I just love ‘em.” Sometimes, we are tempted to be dishonest because we want something that is not ours just because “we just love 'em.”

How can I turn my heart to my ancestors? I can do it by learning about them. I recently received a letter from an uncle, Lynwood Ellis, recalling acts of kindness performed long ago by my father and mother. He said that he loved to go to their house because my father always gave him citrus fruit. This was back in 1918 or 1920, when citrus fruit just wasn’t often available in Utah. How did my father manage to get it? My uncle didn’t know, but he was sure that my father didn’t get this fruit for his own use. He just enjoyed giving it away! As I read these stories, my heart was turned to my father and mother because I knew more about their hearts. I found that I wanted to learn more about them and about their parents and grandparents.

The youth of the Tallahassee Third Ward, Tallahassee Florida Stake, organized a special Walk-a-Thon in an effort to raise money for the Cameron Paige leukemia fund. Little four-year-old Cameron and his family are members of the Tallahassee Second Ward.
The youth made arrangements for a safe route. The group made an early start to avoid the heat and set a brisk pace to avoid any early-morning traffic. At the end of the route, reporters were waiting to record their efforts.
The youth concluded their walk with a dip in a local spring and a picnic. As the group compared blisters or more serious reactions to the exercise, they were more sympathetic to the pain and discomfort that little Cameron experiences.

I’d like to speak for just a moment to those of you –maybe new international students, -- who are growing your English language and who are gathering new vocabulary.The verb I am using here is ENDURE which means: --to work and persist (to keep going) with purpose; --to remain firm under suffering or misfortune without yielding or giving up, even though it is difficult -- to bear or wait out patiently.It can also mean, to come to a knowledge of something by living through it, coming to a knowledge through experience.The noun forms are ENDURANCE and ENDURINGThe adjective form is also ENDURING Along these lines of enduring and pushing through and upwards…like seeds in the earth. I would like to share just ONE of the ways I have learned physical and mental endurance in my life time…this learning started when I was (when we – my husband and I -- were) just a bit younger than most of you students are now…many years ago.I will call this part “Running Uphill” When my husband and I were teenagers (we met back then)– between the ages 15-18—we regularly ran up in these hills you see here (behind me)— These are what we call the foothills in Boise, Idaho (where we grew up) –far beyond them-- the foothills grow into much larger mountains. This isn’t the exact image I was hoping to find (we actually didn’t take many pictures back then --no cell phones, and we didn’t just carry cameras around much) —we just did and experienced and remembered– but in my mind’s eye – in my memory -- I can still see a long dusty dirt road curving up —hill after hill –3 1/2 miles up to a certain ending place.This was a tradition -- a regular weekly workout for our high school x-country team in the summer and fall months-- especially during August through October. Picture this -some 30 to 40 teenagers – girls and boys – on a hot afternoon …running…uphill! Willingly!! Why would we? Why did we do this? Well… it was our coach’s plan --to build our endurance, to increase our fitness, to make us stronger in body and mind—to be better prepared… to run and compete in future races (which typically were not all uphill) but rather on flat or more gentle rolling hills. And…we were willing, we were obedient, we followed the workout plan. We wanted to be tougher, stronger, faster. In this process-- we encouraged each other. *Have you ever noticed? The beautiful thing about memory is it often glosses or smooths over the struggle and pain actually felt in the living moment – so in the present moment of remembering we don’t really remember or feel how hard or painful some experience was. In this case, I can recall that running uphill, in the heat was work, exertion and sweat! It required determination and grit to do it– but what lingers is the feeling, the sense of overcoming, of arrival at the top, of achievement at completing the course – of meeting the challenge and then the invigoration and relaxation even enjoyment as we walked and jogged—as a large group of friends—talking, laughing all the way back down to the bottom where we had started. Running uphill (so to speak) is an essential part of life—the struggle to push onward and upward through whatever life presents us—is a hard, determined effort – certainly often with its discomforts and even sorrows but not without rewards, even joys.

Sisters help one another keep those baptismal covenants in many ways. Ting Chang of Taiwan “[came] into the fold of God” while in middle school. Because her family was in a difficult financial situation, Ting would forgo lunch to save on family expenses. Jina, a classmate, noticed. Jina’s mom began to prepare extra food every day for lunch to share with Ting. Soon Jina invited her friend to attend church with her. Jina’s mom had recently joined the Church, and Jina was taking lessons with the missionaries. For Ting, the example of charity these women presented was powerful, and she also began meeting with the missionaries.
Together, Ting and Jina read scriptures and kept a journal of their sacred experiences. Their bonds of sisterhood grew when both young women were baptized on the same day. Today, both are serving full-time missions to spread the joy of the gospel of Jesus Christ. Jina, her mother, and Ting have become sisters through living the Lord’s standards and by bearing His name.
Sister Ting Chang (right) and Sister Hsuan Shih (left), Jina’s younger sister, who was baptized around the same time as Jina, serve together on Temple Square.

Let me mention without naming anyone the experience last night of being with a wonderful matriarch. In the last three years this wonderful lady and good friend of Colleen’s and mine has lost a husband, a daughter, a son, and two brothers. At 8:30 this morning, her remaining son had brain tumor surgery. As I watch that family, so settled, so established, I can see that they know what Nephi knew: “I know that [God] loveth his children; nevertheless, I do not know the meaning of all things” (1 Nephi 11:17). The feeling I felt watching that family circle and their many friends was that this family is okay. They will make it, whatever the results of the surgery may be.

If we are meek enough and we are willing to submit enough, then we can be like our friend’s marvelous young son last night after his blessing. He was secure. This is a son who, when his first wife died a few years ago, was seated with the family in the first two rows at the funeral. When it was his turn to praise his wife, he passed the young baby to someone else on that row and then came to the pulpit and gave a wonderful sermon, as if speaking at his wife’s funeral was something he did twice a month.

Such intrinsic spirituality has grown in him and in his family. This family could indeed have a conversation with Job and hold their own.

Among the blessings of being a full-time missionary are the lifelong relationships you develop with missionary companions. Let me share one account with you that will help those of you who have not served missions to understand this better. This is from a letter a junior companion wrote to his senior companion who had trained him 33 years earlier. I quote in part:

I want you to know how much you have meant to me as I have often thought of you over the years since we served together 33 years ago. You have been one of the guiding influences in my life.

I appreciated you keeping all the mission rules. . . .

I remember a particularly cold and rainy day. It was about a half hour before the time to go back to the apartment. It had been raining all day, and I was wet and tired. We had stopped our bikes on the corner of an intersection. . . . We had done everything on the list we had prepared that morning; there was nothing else to be done. You looked at your watch, which showed a half hour left in our day. Then you looked over at me. I knew what you were thinking. I knew you were trying to decide whether or not to go home. After all, we were both wet, and we were far from our apartment. I tried to look as cold and as tired as I possibly could in the hopes that I could sway you in your decision.

“Let’s knock on the doors of the houses on this street,” you said. With that, we spent one more half hour in the rain and cold. And with that, you taught a new missionary what it meant to keep the mission rules. . . .

From that moment on, when I wanted to go home early I didn’t! The blessings earned in those last few minutes of every day resulted in at least two conversions that I had while laboring later in my mission. I think it might be appropriate for you to list me among your converts. I love you, Elder.

I‘m a full-time mum of five children aged 13 and under in the Aberdeen Scotland Stake. Two years ago, I began writing heaps of music and I realised that I absolutely loved to write—and that I was better than I thought.
Last year, a friend recommended I get in contact with a member of the Staines England Stake, a professional musician and composer named Sam Petchey, for some help with recording some songs. We soon discovered we made a great musical team.
In 2023, we wrote and performed an Easter cantata called Women of Jesus for a pop-up women‘s choir in Staines and Hyde Park. In the Summer we released an EP to streaming services called All the Good Songs Have Been Written. In October we ran a recording afternoon with some of my singing friends from Aberdeen Chorus of Sweet Adelines. We sang my original carol, ‘The Lamb’, which Sam had arranged for four parts. Later that evening, we held the first concert of me singing solo with Sam accompanying my original songs, while launching pre-orders for our Christmas album.
In December last year, we found out that our choral arrangements of ‘The Lamb’ had been shortlisted in the Sir David Willcocks Carol Competition, reached the semifinal of the UK Songwriting Contest and, most exciting, was one of five winners in the Making Music Classic FM Carol Competition. It was played on national radio on Classic FM on Friday 22 December 2023.
It is all utterly amazing to me. I see the hand of Heavenly Father in my life so much as I write music and feel the Holy Spirit with me as I am writing. Sometimes it feels like I am just catching it in my hands and trying to get it all down quickly enough.
Most days, though, I‘m covered in Lego, teddies, leftover food and kisses from my kids.