Gospel Story Finder

One morning, a friend of mine who is a lifeguard on the Gold Coast was sitting on his lookout carefully watching the people swimming between the flags when a boy came running up the beach. His father had been swimming just down the beach with another young son on his shoulders. The father had suffered a heart attack, and both went down. They were 200 meters from the flags. The lifeguards did everything humanly possible, but by the time they got there, both father and son had drowned.

I’ve been going to church my whole life. I’ve been challenged to read the Book of Mormon and pray to know if it’s true what seems like a thousand times. But I’ve never actually done it before. I had this mind-set where I thought I had to set aside a perfect night, and nothing else could be going on in my life to distract me. I was also scared that I wouldn’t get an answer. But after going to youth conference and hearing all about “Ask of God” so many times, I decided to just try it.
It was a random school night, and I asked God to help me know if the Book of Mormon was true, and then I started reading where I’d left off a few weeks ago. I started to get this feeling of calmness, and a sort of feeling that I already knew it was true. But then I started doubting, wondering whether my brain was making it up because I wanted an answer so badly. I felt really frustrated, but then I looked down at the next verse, which was 2 Nephi 29:10, and it said, “Wherefore, because that ye have a Bible ye need not suppose that it contains all my words; neither need ye suppose that I have not caused more to be written.”
The Spirit hit me so strongly, and it felt like Heavenly Father was speaking directly to me through that verse. I know that the Book of Mormon is true, and that God will answer our prayers. We don’t have to set aside a “perfect night” to ask Him.
Rebekah C., 16, Shanghai, China

In Salamanca, Hermana Arriaga and I quickly found families to teach. After several weeks, one was on the verge of committing to baptism. They were at that point where it feels as though the adversary is going to pounce at any moment. One evening, we had an appointment to teach them. We arrived a few minutes before the scheduled hour and found no one home. We waited, patiently, until half-past. Then we decided, sadly, that we should start walking to our next appointment. We wrote the family a note, tucked it in the crack of the door, and stepped into the elevator to descend the six floors to street level. When the doors closed, I pushed the big black button for the ground floor.
We went, oh, maybe a floor or two, and the elevator stopped--so did our hearts! My companion and I suspected the Lord was trying to get our attention. We decided to wait just a little longer, so we returned to the sixth floor. In less than five minutes, the family came bustling out of the elevator, thrilled that we had waited because they really needed to see us.

We have some sense of the rejoicing that is going on in Quito, Ecuador; Harare, Zimbabwe; Belém, Brazil; and Lima, Peru, both with members and missionaries, based on what happened in Bangkok, Thailand, a year ago when that temple was announced. Sister Shelly Senior, wife of the then-president of the Thailand Bangkok Mission, David Senior, emailed family and friends to say that after she and her husband had listened to President Monson announce that temple, there had been “12 sleepless hours and lots of tears of happiness.” They called their mission assistants at 11:30 p.m. and informed them. The assistants called all the missionaries. The report came back that the “whole mission was awake in the middle of the night jumping on their beds.” Sister Senior humorously admonished family and friends, “Please don’t tell the Missionary Department!”4

Here we imagine a young couple representative of those living in this secular world. David and Michelle knew this article of faith long before they knew each other. Even so, they deal with concerns facing many participating in this broadcast. You see, David and Michelle are in their mid-to-late twenties. They have known one another for some time, they “hang out” together, and they are in love. Nevertheless, they are indecisive about marriage and family. Should they postpone marriage until they have completed their schooling, until they have more money, until some of their personal ambitions are realized?

They also wonder about the escalating trends of divorce, the wars and tumults around the world, and overpopulation. Would their marriage survive? Should they bring children into such a world?

Oh, David and Michelle, exercise your faith! Remember: “Marriage between a man and a woman is ordained of God.”16 “What . . . God hath joined together, let not man put asunder” (Matthew 19:6; see also D&C 132:19–20). “Children are an heritage of the Lord” (Psalm 127:3). “The earth is full, . . . there is enough and to spare” (D&C 104:17).

Act upon what you know to be true and your righteous works will perfect your faith. Your lives will be full and wonderful. Follow the good example of your parents. They could not afford to get married, but they did. They too worried about war and tumult, but they exercised their faith and had you! The demands of marriage and family did not deter their education; they enriched it. As for their personal ambitions, they are completely and happily entwined in the well-being of each other and of you, your brothers and sisters, and the grandchildren.

Life was not easy for your parents. They had to scrimp and save, make do with what they had. They too faced questions and circumstances they could not answer, but they knew that the pathway ordained by Almighty God decreed that they move ahead. And you are so much “richer” because of it.

From the stories they have told you over and over again, you know that everything for them has been uphill, “both ways.” But their works have sanctified their faith.

They are older, to be sure. Their step is not as spry, their manner not as intense, their appearance not something advertisers typically clamor for. But their love for God and for each other reflects deep reverence and adoration. The scars of life have afforded them wisdom, patience, and gratitude. In small but important ways they have become “the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen” (Hebrews 11:1)—things they could not see earlier in life. But they obeyed. Exercising their faith, they were sealed in the temple, were blessed with children, and now know the true sources of happiness. The benchmark shows: Obedience calls forth the blessings of heaven—it did so for your parents and it will do so for you.

Why was Brother Saraiva, the president of the Guaratingatá Branch, successful as a missionary? He heard Elder Gordon B. Hinckley at a stake conference in Brazil, in which Elder Hinckley challenged the people to bring one hundred people into the Church that year. And so Brother Saraiva said, “Why not? If a member of the Twelve says it can be done, I will obey.” The last time I spoke with Brother Saraiva, he had baptized more than two hundred fifty people.

The following story is shared with permission. In the year 2001, the same year Ricks College became BYU-Idaho, terrorist attacks were made in New York City at the World Trade Center and in Washington, D.C., at the Pentagon. 9/11 was a staggering day. Those in the administration building watched events unfold as we gathered around the television in the Public Relations Office. The destruction and devastation seemed surreal and yet distant from our safe Idaho locale—that is, until the next morning. As I got to work, I was greeted by a worried co-worker, “Have you heard from the Howells? They can’t find Brady.” Ken Howell was our former director of public relations. He had retired and was just returning from serving a mission with his wife, Jeanette. Their son Brady was an intern and civil officer for the Chief of Naval Operations in Washington, D.C., assigned to work in the Pentagon.

Soon others became aware of the situation and reached out to me as well. People on campus recognized as Ken’s assistant for some ten years, I had developed a sense of family with all of the Howells. I had even helped Brady with a mail merge for his and Liz’s wedding invitations. As he hand-fed envelopes into the printer, we talked about his ambitions, his love for Liz, their upcoming temple wedding, and the great future they would have together.

Assigned by then-President David A. Bednar and in behalf of the university, I was able to make contact with Ken; and he confirmed Brady was listed as “unaccounted for.” All flights were grounded, and they were not sure how to get to D.C. to be with Liz. Ken asked if I would field all calls and be their family spokesman so they could focus on their immediate situation.

How could I have known the emergency public information course Ken had encouraged me to take some three years prior would now play such a significant role? I hope you are considering how each element of education and training you are accumulating along with the rapport you are building with others may contribute to unfolding events in your future.

I felt the Lord’s strengthening hand through the next week as I fielded calls and made lists to report to the Howells of the growing concern expressed from friends and neighbors, the media, government officials, and Church leaders both locally and from headquarters in Salt Lake City. The uncertainty lingered on. Nearly a week later, it seemed a tender mercy when the first Pentagon victim identified was Brady, a verification made possible by his temple recommend.

Blessed power, peace, and comfort can come even in times of great turmoil. I personally witnessed a grieving family at a time of national upheaval and fears; and yet their response was calm, controlled, and with a gospel-centered perspective. As Brady’s plight became evident, one of his brothers who knew his eternally positive personality best commented something like this: “You know there are about 3,000 people whose lives were changed in an instant and who are probably pretty confused by it all. I can just see Brady enthusiastically waving them forward toward the pearly gates saying, ‘Come on, I’ll show you the way!’” What a reassuring outlook of eternal life with ongoing purpose!

A year later, Ken wrote, “I’ve learned I can’t do all things alone. I have to get together with those around me, those with whom I share love and confidence, and sometimes those I haven’t known before and say, ‘Together we can do this,’ and we do. . . . I have learned that people without belief are often people without hope. God, family, and a caring community is the balm that heals our wounds.”

I recently represented the Church at the annual G20 Interfaith Forum in Italy. I was encouraged, even buoyed up, when I met with government and faith leaders from around the world. I realized wounds and differences can be resolved and even healed when we honor God, the Father of us all, and Jesus Christ, His Son. The Great Healer of all is our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

I had an interesting moment as I closed my talk. The previous seven speakers had not closed in any manner of a faith tradition or in the name of God. As I spoke, I thought, “Do I just say thank you and sit down, or do I close ‘in the name of Jesus Christ’?” I remembered who I was, and I knew the Lord would have me say His name to conclude my message. So I did. Looking back, it was my opportunity to express my belief; and I had the freedom of religion to bear my witness of His holy name.

As I went into surgery a few years ago, I was still conscious when the doctors and nurses were standing around me waiting, I said to the specialist, “There are numerous people full of faith who are praying for you this morning.” He quietly replied, “I’ll need their prayers.” It is my firm conviction that the numerous prayers were heard, that his hand was steadied and guided, that his judgment increased, and that as a result of the blessings of the Lord, healing followed and my voice returned to a satisfactory extent. The skeptic might have other answers.

Editor’s note: President Heber J. Grant’s life is a lesson in the power of practice and persistence. As an ungifted athlete, he worked so hard that he became the pitcher for a championship baseball team. While he was a bookkeeping student, classmates made fun of his writing. “Hentracks!” one boy said. “Lightning has struck the ink bottle,” jeered another. Heber vowed that someday he would teach penmanship, a prediction that came true. His calligraphy eventually won awards for excellence and gained national attention. In 1901, Elder Heber J. Grant, then serving as a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, was called by the First Presidency to initiate missionary work in Japan.

The three other elders and I were excited to visit Nikko shrine, one of the best-known tourist attractions in Japan. We thrilled at the sculptured gardens, waterfalls, gently arched bridges, and carved stone monuments.
In the town near the shrine, we entered a curio shop which was set back from the road. The shop had apparently seen better days and was now overlooked by most tourists who favored the modern shops along the thoroughfare.
As we chatted with the owner, we found that the shop had been operated by his family for more than three generations. Many interesting objects attracted our attention. As we browsed, the owner brought over a guest book and asked us to sign it. He said that his grandfather had started the “sign-in” tradition almost a hundred years ago and that there were now several large volumes of signatures from foreigners who had visited the shop.
After we signed our names, he proudly showed us some of the signatures of royalty and of other famous personalities. He added that he wanted to share with us the most prized signature he possessed. Our new-found friend excitedly opened one of the older volumes and pointed to a signature: Heber J. Grant!
The signature was beautiful, with full, exact strokes. President Grant had given his address as simply “Salt Lake City, Utah,” and had written the date alongside. I don’t remember the date he wrote (our visit to the shop took place in 1974), but it was sometime during the period when President Grant presided over the Japanese Mission, probably around 1903.
From the experience, I learned of President Grant’s desire to become an accomplished penman and of the pursuit for excellence which he incorporated into every facet of his life. It was an unusual testimony to me of the importance of striving for perfection, and the lesson is one I will never forget.
Even though the shop owner (at that point) knew nothing about President Heber J. Grant or about missionaries and their mission, among the thousands of signatures included in his guest register, the most prized was the signature of a president of the Church!

During the final months of our mission last year, we experienced an event that taught once again this profound principle that each of us is known and loved by God.

Elder Neal A. Maxwell was coming to New York City for some Church business, and we were informed that he would also like to have a mission conference. We were so pleased to have this opportunity to hear from one of the Lord’s chosen servants. I was asked to select one of our missionaries to provide the opening prayer for the meeting. I might have randomly picked one of the missionaries to pray, but felt to ponder and prayerfully select one whom the Lord would have me ask. In going through the missionary roster, a name boldly stood out to me: Elder Joseph Appiah of Accra, Ghana. He was the one I felt the Lord wanted to pray at the meeting.

Prior to the mission conference, I was having a regularly scheduled interview with Elder Appiah and told him of the prompting that I had received for him to pray. With amazement and humility in his eyes, he began to weep deeply. Somewhat surprised by his reaction, I started to tell him that it was all right and he wouldn’t have to pray, when he informed me he would love to offer the prayer, that his emotion was caused by the love he has for Elder Maxwell. He told me that this Apostle is very special to the Saints in Ghana and to his own family. Elder Maxwell had called his father to be the district president in Accra and had sealed his mother and father in the Salt Lake Temple.

Now, I didn’t know any of what I just related about this missionary or his family, but the Lord did and inspired a mission president on behalf of one missionary to provide a lifelong memory and testimony-building experience.

At the meeting, Elder Appiah offered a wonderful prayer and made a humble contribution to a meeting where Elder Maxwell taught the missionaries of the attributes of Jesus Christ. All who were there will never forget the feelings of love they experienced for their Savior.

When I was in Young Men, I embarked on a rigorous hike up the tallest mountain in Arizona: Humphreys Peak. Our goal was to use mirrors to signal light to other participants on other peaks once we’d reached the summit. This required us to haul the heavy mirrors in our backpacks, and it was a tiring climb.
I remember feeling pain and exhaustion from the load on my back, which seemed to get heavier with each step I took. I often contemplated turning back, wishing I could shed my backpack and finally find relief. But with encouragement from my dad and my quorum advisers, I kept going. When we finally reached the summit, it was so fulfilling to look out at the incredible view and take off our backpacks. But it was clear to me that I could not have made it to my destination on my own.
Contemplating this experience from my youth has helped me realize that everybody is climbing a mountain in mortality. We all have a metaphorical backpack on our shoulders, and within each of our backpacks is a load of burdens. Some of us may have lighter burdens, while others are carrying almost unbearable loads, but one thing is for certain: we can’t carry them and make it to our destination alone.
With help from my loved ones, I was able to carry the burden on my back and reach the top of Humphrey’s Peak. And I know that as we help those around us by seeking to understand and to lift, we will be able to share the Savior’s light and make each other’s burdens light. We need each other. And our joy will be full as we reach our heavenly destination alongside our fellow Christlike climbers.

Michael and his friend Daniel were having fun playing with cars in Michael’s room.
Daniel, I talked to your mother. She said you can stay for dinner.
Yes!
Go wash your hands and come sit at the dinner table.
After washing their hands, Michael and Daniel sat down at the table.
This looks yummy.
Daniel, don’t eat yet.
Why not?
We need to say a prayer first. Dad, can Daniel say the prayer?
He’s welcome to say it if he wants to.
I don’t really know how.
I can help you.
OK.
You just need to close your eyes, bow your head, fold your arms, and tell Heavenly Father that we are thankful for the food and for other good things. Then you say, “in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”
Daniel closed his eyes, folded his arms, and bowed his head. He said a short prayer.
How was that?
Good. You are good at praying.
Yes, he is, Michael. And you are good at teaching.

Down on the tip of England’s toe, 18-year-old Joanne Crocker of Helston Ward, tells of her teacher, Hugh Dunbar. “The day before one monthly meeting, his car wouldn’t go. He had the engine in pieces until 3:00 A.M. Then he snatched two hours of sleep and finished the job by 11:30 Saturday morning in time to begin picking up his class of seven by 12 noon. Then we drove 70 miles to the Plymouth stake centre. And this was only six months after open heart surgery.”

Back in the late 80’s, early 90’s I was living in Salt Lake City, UT and had a full-time job in Orem working for a dear friend, Jerry Jackman, who is an LDS Music Publisher. I was having car trouble one morning and asked my roommate to drop me off at the bus stop at Temple Square which she was glad to do. I quickly put on my shoes and hurried to the car. She dropped me off by a curb on the corner of North Temple. I thanked her for the ride and opened the passenger door. When I stepped out of the car and on to the dew kissed blades of grass my shoes had sunk a little in the moist, mushy ground because it had rained the night before. We both said our goodbyes and she offered to pick me up at the same corner that evening. I was very grateful.

I walked a few feet to the bus stop and the only available seat was next to a homeless man whose countenance was all but appealing. It appeared to me that he hadn't combed his hair for weeks and he looked like he hadn't had a bath for quite a while. When I approached him, he smiled at me and nodded a quiet hello. I smiled back and quickly sat down. A few seconds later I could smell a very disgusting odor, it smelled like dog poop and of course my thoughts on the stench was directed toward the homeless man. I kept looking at him and he kept smiling. I then started to scoot in the opposite direction as to avoid the smell. However, I noticed that moving away didn't do the trick. So, I kept staring at him in disgust and he continued to smile. I was getting kind of irritated until I saw him looking down at the trail of dog poop on the concrete walkway that led directly to me. I looked down at my shoes and had a flashback to when I had stepped out of the car on to what I
had thought was mud, but I was wrong. I was sooooooo wrong and extremely humbled. I looked back at the homeless man and quietly said "I'm sorry." He again smiled and nodded his head in complete forgiveness. I quickly ran across the street to the water fountain and washed away the ‘stench of shame!' Shortly after the bus had arrived, I searched for my now homeless friend, but he was nowhere to be seen.

I believe that Heavenly Father places souls in our path to remind us that we are all in the same boat regardless of our color or financial status, whether we have shelter over our heads or not. We all need each other, especially when life stinks! I was so quick to judge that morning, but just as quickly, I was forgiven by this humble soul.

Thanking God that there is rain reminds me of a friend who personifies ThanksLiving. Here’s one last story.

This is my friend Grif the Great.

Grif is amazing. He was a few months old when he was diagnosed with a disease that affects how his blood carries oxygen. When he was four years old, he suffered a massive five-day long stroke that affected the entire left side of his body. He lost his hearing, sight, speech, and the control of his limbs.

Grif the Great is a fighter. He worked hard the next two years to relearn how to use his body. He had some long-term effects, and he couldn’t communicate verbally very much. But he didn’t need words. Grif the Great has an innate ability to tell who is having a bad day. Seeing someone who was sad, he’d cradle their face in his hands, curl up in their lap, or put his arm around them. His smile is 1000 watts of love.

He endured many more physical trials over the next few years, including regular blood transfusions, bouts of epilepsy, and frequent hospital visits. The doctors would constantly tell the family he only had six more months to live, and they’d repeat that every six months. Through it all, Grif the Great spread love and happiness wherever he went.

This picture—one of my favorite pictures ever, which I often look at when I’m having a metaphorical rainy day—says it all. Instead of complaining about the rain, Grif the Great embraces it. He is thankful for the smell and taste of raindrops. Who cares about the rain ruining a school assembly? Rain is a good thing. Be thankful for rain. That’s Grif in a nutshell.

In March last year, a few months after his baptism, on a beautiful Spring day full of his usual happiness and love, Grif the Great suddenly fell unconscious, and never woke up again. Grif the Great’s 1000-watt smile is now lighting up heaven.

I want to live in Thanksgiving like Grif the Great.

Jon Huntsman, Sr., is one of the most successful businessmen in America. (His corporate jet enables President Hinckley to travel the world.) He has founded a number of companies in the republics of the former Soviet Union. Two of his former employees were in my MBA class at BYU and told me of the box factory he created in Russia to help this emerging economy. Initially the company was told it would have to pay a certain tax rate on boxes sold to Russian customers and a much lower rate on boxes shipped for resale to other former republics. After the company started producing boxes, a tax administrator came and informed the company that the rates were being increased on the exported boxes--to a point that made the company completely unprofitable. However, the official said, if certain amounts could be paid under the table directly to the tax official, he could "take care of them." It is Jon Huntsman's policy never to pay a bribe. He never has, he never will. The official was insistent. Jon Huntsman decided to sell the factory to local management for one dollar rather than pay a bribe. He lost his investment of millions of dollars but he would not compromise his integrity for money.

In my last year of teaching Year 1 children, I decided to share the real message of Easter with the children in my class. I borrowed the video of He is Risen, a cartoon version of the Easter story. The children sat and watched intently, which was a miracle in itself. At the end of the video, they were full of amazement, all asking questions. One boy asked if he would see his deceased grandfather again. Hearing the children ask these questions and being able to answer them made it feel as if I was hearing the message for the first time myself. I stopped and thought about how much I had taken this truly miraculous event for granted.

Chelsea Beattie and Liz Christensen, two Mia Maids in Boise, Idaho, know a little something about building a temple from the ground up. As part of a school assignment for their history class, students were assigned to report on a historical event that was an example of both tragedy and triumph. Since the girls were studying Church history in Sunday School, learning about Nauvoo and especially the temple, it made sense for the girls to expand on their knowledge for their project. The girls made a replica of the Nauvoo Temple from mat board, cardstock, tape, glue, and clay.
“Recognizing the tragedy and the triumphs that were present in the city of Nauvoo has taught both of us that the people who came before us sacrificed for us, and for that we are eternally grateful,” says Chelsea.

In my own lifetime I have been a witness to the miracle of the restored gospel. When I was a young girl my family moved to São Paulo, Brazil, where my father had been called to preside over the Brazilian Mission. It was an exciting time for me and a great place to grow up. A favorite game for my brothers and me was to dress up and pretend to be missionaries. We spent hours scribbling our own missionary pamphlets and “preaching” and “transferring” all over the yard. For five years the nightly conversations around our dinner table centered on missionary work, and I listened intently to stories of faith told by missionaries. Even at that age I knew I was part of a great work.
There were only about 3,000 members of the Church in Brazil when we arrived there. I remember being in a very small Primary with a few other children, singing the same five songs every week, as those were the only ones translated into Portuguese. Two of my favorite songs were “A Luz Divina,” or “The Light Divine” (Hymns, no. 305), and something about a bunny in the middle of the woods (see “The Little Rabbit,” Children’s Friend, June 1955, 257).
In many ways our experience was similar to the early pioneers. We had no hymnbooks or pictures or lesson manuals sent from the headquarters of the Church. Everything that was needed to teach the gospel in Portuguese was written and printed in our mission home. All of us, even the children, were pressed into service to help assemble mission newsletters and lessons. No one shipped the Church to us. The prophet did not send us stake presidents or bishops. He did not send Relief Society presidents or youth programs. The Church in Brazil was made from the same material that the pioneers started with. The material to build the Church was in the people.
During our years in Brazil, we saw great growth come to the Church. Thousands became Latter-day Saints. Soon the mission was divided, districts and branches were organized, and new chapels were built. The new members were enthusiastic, and they grew in faith and became more experienced in the manner of the gospel.
A lot of years passed, and then last year I returned to Brazil to attend the rededication of the São Paulo temple. At that time I learned that there were 187 stakes in Brazil. There are now 26 missions, 4 temples, and almost 1 million members. Imagine my surprise when I walked into a stadium filled with over 60,000 members who had gathered to hear President Gordon B. Hinckley and celebrate the temple dedication. To me it was a miracle to see thousands of youth dancing and singing together. As I watched that joyful celebration, I kept saying to myself, “This is amazing! This is a miracle! How did this miracle happen?”
I marveled all that night at what I had seen. Then, the next morning at the temple dedication, I had a reunion with my Primary teacher, Sister Gloria Silveira. That was when I knew how the miracle had come about. As a new convert with no prior Church experience, Sister Silveira had come to Primary prepared to share her simple testimony and teach me the Articles of Faith in Portuguese. She and her husband, Humberto, are still faithful. They have served in many Church callings over the years, and they are still serving. When I saw Sister Silveira, I realized that the Church in Brazil had grown because of her and thousands like her. She and Brother Silveira represent people everywhere who have faith in the Lord Jesus Christ and His gospel. They have grown in knowledge and skill, and they have served in the Church (see D&C 88:80). They have shared the gospel with friends (see D&C 30:5). They work in the temple (see D&C 138:48). They taught their five children correct principles (see D&C 68:28). Of their 43 descendants, 15 have served full-time missions. Their grandchildren are now marrying in the temple, and their great-grandchildren are the fourth generation of Silveiras who are part of the marvelous work that was started by Joseph Smith. Because of them, faith has increased in the earth. They are an example of the miracle the Lord spoke about when He said that His gospel would be proclaimed by the weak and the simple (see D&C 1:23) and that by small and simple means great things are brought to pass (see 1 Nephi 16:29).