Gospel Story Finder

I grew up in a quiet town in Idaho, USA. My family is Catholic, but we always felt very welcomed by the large Latter-day Saint community. We were often invited to what I now know to be “ward” activities, and I would get invited to attend Primary. I don’t remember going to Primary that often, but when I became Young Women age, I participated in lessons and was asked to play on the volleyball and softball teams.
One very special activity I went to was Young Women in Excellence night. Leigh Anne, my best friend since second grade, had invited me. I wasn’t familiar with what happened at these activities, and she’d told me just to come in a dress and to listen with my heart. She walked me through the displays of handmade crafts, desserts, inspirational thoughts, and more crafts.
Then a movie was shown of a boy with his mother, who spoke to him about eternal families. As she spoke to him, I recognized a warmth and swelling in my heart that I’d never felt before, and it made me want to cry. I wasn’t sure what it was.
I looked at Leigh Anne, and she was looking at me. She knew what I was feeling. She didn’t say a word. She just looked at me with tears in her eyes, nodding that she understood and wanted me to keep listening.
I remember the feeling I had as the Holy Ghost testified of the truthfulness of eternal families. I learned to recognize the witness of the Holy Ghost because my friend was someone I could trust and because she followed the prompting to allow me to learn. I’m so grateful for this first step in my conversion process.

At a regional conference in Tokyo in 1975, President Kimball announced construction of the Tokyo Japan Temple. The Japanese Saints, overcome with emotion, spontaneously burst into applause to show their joy and gratitude.
The Tokyo Japan Temple was completed in 1980. During the open house and dedicatory ceremonies, the Saints were blessed with wonderful spiritual experiences and great joy. Those experiences continued following the temple’s dedication as the Saints began receiving their temple ordinances and acting as proxy for their deceased ancestors.

And then I experienced a miracle. After mighty prayer and seeking to apply the Savior’s Atonement in my life, the Lord removed my feelings of guilt rapidly, distinctly, and tangibly. His voice explained that I didn’t have to carry guilt because my depression wasn’t my fault. Jesus Christ carries that burden for me through the power of His Atonement. I was filled with light and felt hopeful again.

My whole life has been enriched by experiences of the temple. Our parents would take us to Temple Square in Salt Lake City on a regular basis. They would point to the temple and tell us that they were married there and because of that we would always be together as a family. What comfort that brought to a little boy whose biggest fear was that his parents might die. Now what comfort it brings to a grown man whose parents have passed on to the other side.

“Having left behind the relative light and spiritual comfort of the preexistence, the singer is witness to temporal wonders and counterfeits of truth as he sails on his ‘ship of dust’ through the nighttime waters of mortality. In the dawn, as he sails into the eternal realm, he is surprised to find that his voyage is not ended, but continues on a ‘sea of glass,’ in his now celestial ship.” According to Marvin, this song was the springboard for an album of songs along these lines. “I feel very large and expansive when I sing it,” he claims.
We wandered through the shipyards,
through the timber and the rope,
and the wise men saw the longing in our eyes.
So they made for each of us
a ship of dust, with sails of trust,
and the sun behind us vanished from the skies.
Now it’s a long time since the sunset,
and the time we raised the sails,
and the time the old shipbuilders waited for.
There are wonders in the night;
there are strange and dangerous shades of light,
but the dawn is gonna see me on that shore.
Sweet stars, mark the night.
Fair winds, arc the right waves over my prow—
I am homeward.
Wooden wheels and oaken rudders
bend like grass against the sea,
and the canvas fails and falls against our hope.
I am climbing on the mast
and I see a trace of dawn at last
and I feel a strange new feeling in the rope.
Now the sun splits the horizon
where I thought the beach to be,
and the graveyard for the ships done with the sea
But I’m on a sea of glass
and the light is more than sun can pass
and the deck is turning silver under me.
Sweet stars, mark my mind.
Fair winds, you can find me sailing your source—
I am homeward.

One night I picked up a copy of the Liahona (Spanish) and found an article I wanted to read. After reading only eight or nine lines, I began to feel happy and peaceful. Reading the Liahona can teach us and help us find answers we have been searching for.
We all need publications like the Liahona that leave us with a positive message and that benefit our lives.
Amelia Marcone,Santa Teresa Branch, Ocumare Del Tuy Venezuela District

When I was a boy we lived in a large old house. One room was called the library. It had a solid table and a good lamp, three or four comfortable chairs with good light, and books in cases that lined the walls. There were many volumes—the acquisitions of my father and mother over a period of many years.

We were never forced to read them, but they were placed where they were handy and where we could get at them whenever we wished.

There was quiet in that room. It was understood that it was a place to study.

There were also magazines—the Church magazines and two or three other good magazines. There were books of history and literature, books on technical subjects, dictionaries, a set of encyclopedias, and an atlas of the world. There was no television, of course, at that time. Radio came along while I was growing up. But there was an environment, an environment of learning. I would not have you believe that we were great scholars. But we were exposed to great literature, great ideas from great thinkers, and the language of men and women who thought deeply and wrote beautifully.

Thus the Lord, by revelation, brings inspiration into one’s mind as though a voice were speaking. Elder Harold B. Lee gave this testimony:
“I have a believing heart because of a simple testimony that came when I was a child, I think maybe I was around ten—maybe eleven—years of age. I was with my father out on a farm away from our home, trying to spend the day busying myself until father was ready to go home. Over the fence from our place were some tumbledown sheds which had attracted a curious boy, adventurous as I was. I started to climb through the fence and I heard a voice as clearly as you are hearing mine—‘Don’t go over there!’ calling me by name. I turned to look at father to see if he were talking to me, but he was way up at the other end of the field. There was no person in sight. I realized then, as a child, that there were persons beyond my sight and I had heard a voice. And when I had heard and read these stories of the Prophet Joseph Smith, I, too, know what it means to hear a voice because I’ve heard from an unseen speaker” (Divine Revelation, Brigham Young University Speeches of the Year, Provo, 15 Oct. 1952, p. 6).

Not long ago, death came to the husband of a friend of ours, suddenly and without warning. Of her, these words were penned by her own sister: “Searching the years and days just past, she is awestruck, recognizing specific skills and experiences put into her life by a loving Father, things that might have seemed circumstantial at the time but that have specifically prepared her to cope successfully with this heart-breaking loss. Rather than feeling abandoned and bitter, she feels cradled and cared for. … She said to me, ‘When I see how carefully Heavenly Father has prepared and planned for my present circumstance, how can I be frightened about my future? Surely He is putting into place today all that I will need to face the unknown times ahead.’”

President David O. McKay told of a meeting of the Council of the Twelve Apostles where a question of grave importance was discussed. He and the other Apostles felt strongly about a certain course of action that should be taken, and they were prepared to share their feelings in a meeting with the First Presidency. To their surprise, President Joseph F. Smith did not ask for their opinion in the matter, as was his custom. Rather, “he arose and said, ‘This is what the Lord wants.’

“While it was not wholly in harmony with what he had decided,” President McKay wrote, “the President of the Twelve … was the first on his feet to say, ‘Brethren, I move that that becomes the opinion and judgment of this Council.’

“‘Second the motion,’ said another, and it was unanimous. Six months did not pass before the wisdom of that leader was demonstrated” (Gospel Ideals [Salt Lake City: Improvement Era, 1953], p. 264).

Joseph Smith led the first solemn assembly, and after closing his discourse, he called upon the several quorums, commencing with the presidency, to manifest by rising, their willingness to acknowledge him as the prophet and seer and uphold him as such by their prayers and faith. All the quorums in turn cheerfully complied with this request. He then called upon all the congregation of Saints also to give their assent by rising to their feet.
He then proceeded to have the quorums of the priesthood and then the Saints in general stand to signify their sustaining; the leaders of the Church and the councils of the Church were similarly approved.
Joseph Smith said:
“The vote was unanimous in every instance, and I prophesied to all, that inasmuch as they would uphold these men in their several stations, (alluding to the different quorums of the Church), the Lord would bless them … in the name of Jesus Christ, the blessings of heaven should be theirs; and when the Lord’s anointed go forth to proclaim the word, bearing testimony to this generation, if they receive it they shall be blessed, but if not, the judgments of God will follow close upon them until that city or that house which rejects them shall be left desolate.” Then the Hosanna Shout was given. (See Documentary History of the Church, vol. 2, pp. 416–18.)

Another lovely mother has consistently read scriptures to her children to teach them truth. While overseas with no satisfactory schools, she spent much time and energy painstakingly tutoring them—with amazing results. Once the father went to help their five-year-old daughter with evening prayer. He found her kneeling, sharing her tender feelings with her Heavenly Father. Sensing his presence, she looked up. He said, “Do you know how wonderful it makes Father in Heaven feel when you talk to Him?” She responded, “Oh, Daddy, I will always talk to my Father in Heaven.” Such is the pure heart of a five-year-old who has been carefully, spiritually nurtured.

As early Saints reached Utah, President Brigham Young issued calls to some of them to serve missions to many nations of the world, to others to colonize areas outside the Salt Lake Valley. George Careless was prepared to accept any call he received.
“Brother George,” President Young said, “I have a mission for you. … I want you to take the Tabernacle Choir … and lay a foundation for good music in Utah.” Brother Careless accepted the call.
When President Young called him to his musical mission, George replied, “I will do the best I can with the material I can get.”
The prophet responded, “You will have to make that.”
Organizing a choir in the rough conditions of frontier living took determination and grit as well as talent. At his first rehearsal of the choir, only forty members were present. The Tabernacle, still under construction, had no heating or lighting. Choir members held a candle in one hand, their music in the other.

Years ago, I was asked to meet with a man who, long before our visit, had had a period of riotous living. As a result of his bad choices, he lost his membership in the Church. He had long since returned to the Church and was faithfully keeping the commandments, but his previous actions haunted him. Meeting with him, I felt his shame and his deep remorse at having set his covenants aside. Following our interview, I placed my hands upon his head to give him a priesthood blessing. Before speaking a word, I felt an overpowering sense of the Savior’s love and forgiveness for him. Following the blessing, we embraced and the man wept openly.

I am not a naturally patient person.
I like to think of myself as a go-getter, a person who does the things that need to be done. When I’m confronted with a problem, I like to work at it until it feels resolved.
So you can imagine how things went when I knowingly married a man working to overcome a pornography struggle—I was relentless. In my mind, we were going to address this problem my way: immediately and unceasingly until everything felt resolved. I wanted therapy, filters, addiction recovery meetings (ARP), items to check off a list.
There’s nothing wrong with these things—they can be very helpful tools. But I was using them to take control of the situation instead of turning to Jesus Christ.
My husband and I tried many solutions throughout our engagement and first year of marriage—he continued working with priesthood leaders, we attended ARP meetings, and my husband welcomed any questions about his struggle and how he was addressing it. We had many raw, vulnerable conversations. And he did make a lot of progress.
But I was hurting and impatient. I’d given this problem my all, so why wasn’t it resolved by now?
One night, one of my favorite scriptures came to mind:
“Let us cheerfully do all things that lie in our power; and then may we stand still, with the utmost assurance, to see the salvation of God, and for his arm to be revealed” (Doctrine and Covenants 123:17).
I had done just about everything I could think of—and then I’d continued at that frantic pace, attempting a new solution every time I felt any sort of distress. Standing still and waiting with faith hadn’t been part of my process at all.
I began learning about replacing chaos and frustration with stillness and compassion. And as I practiced turning to the Lord instead of trying to control my husband, something amazing happened: I began to learn from my husband.
I knew my husband was a wonderful man in many ways. But I’d always seen this as his big shortcoming. I thought he needed my help.
Instead, I came to realize that we both need the Savior’s help. My husband was being blessed for turning to the Savior, and while my reasons for needing Him were different, I needed the Savior’s power in my life just as much. While I stubbornly try everything on my own before turning to the Savior, my husband’s struggle with pornography has taught him that involving Jesus Christ should always be the first step.
He knows the value of daily repentance, what it means to fail one day and then try again the next. As Brother Bradley R. Wilcox, Second Counselor in the Young Men General Presidency, explained: “Worthiness is not flawlessness. Worthiness is being honest and trying. We must be honest with God, priesthood leaders, and others who love us, and we must strive to keep God’s commandments and never give up just because we slip up.”1 He also believes in the principle that Elder Michael A. Dunn of the Seventy taught: “There must be a consistent, day-in and day-out effort. And although we won’t likely be perfect, we must be determined to mirror our persistence with patience.”2
This realization expanded my perspective—I’d acted like the end goal for my husband and me was resolving this pornography problem. But I had to remember the bigger picture; the end goal has always been returning to Heavenly Father and living with my family for eternity. While that includes striving against pornography for as long as it takes, even if my husband never viewed pornography again, we would still need to focus together on a lifetime of working toward a celestial marriage. We would still be flawed people who need grace and mercy.
So we started living with that expanded perspective, implementing small, sustainable changes in many aspects of our lives. Often we focused on spiritual improvements, like establishing a time to read our scriptures together. Other times we focused on diet and exercise changes or connecting more throughout the day. We also continued those habits we’d had all along—therapy, ARP meetings, filters—but this time, we embraced progress instead of expecting perfection. Rather than giving all our energy to a single problem and hoping everything would be perfect once it was resolved, we began working on our lifelong project of becoming better and more Christlike people.
Learning about slow change and regular repentance changed my life. As President Russell M. Nelson explained: “Nothing is more liberating, more ennobling, or more crucial to our individual progression than is a regular, daily focus on repentance. Repentance is not an event; it is a process. It is the key to happiness and peace of mind.”3
I finally realized that I am not exempt from the need for daily repentance just because I don’t have a compulsive habit. Repentance has been the key to my healing because it helps me turn to the Lord every day. Through repentance, I stopped seeing my to-do list as a way to “fix” my husband and instead let it be something that brings me closer to Christ. Through repentance, I realized that peace doesn’t come from absolute control; it comes from absolute trust in the Lord.
I also know that the Lord can take even the most damaging and frightening challenges and use them to help us grow. Because of Jesus Christ and His Atonement, “the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us” (Romans 8:18). I love my husband. I feel true joy and peace in my life, more than I imagined I could, and I know that it has come through my daily efforts to turn to the Lord and allow Him to change me.

I heard President Spencer W. Kimball, in a session of conference, ask that God would give him mountains to climb. He said: “There are great challenges ahead of us, giant opportunities to be met. I welcome that exciting prospect and feel to say to the Lord, humbly, ‘Give me this mountain,’ give me these challenges.”1
My heart was stirred, knowing, as I did, some of the challenges and adversity he had already faced. I felt a desire to be more like him, a valiant servant of God. So one night I prayed for a test to prove my courage. I can remember it vividly. In the evening I knelt in my bedroom with a faith that seemed almost to fill my heart to bursting.
Within a day or two my prayer was answered. The hardest trial of my life surprised and humbled me. It provided me a twofold lesson. First, I had clear proof that God heard and answered my prayer of faith. But second, I began a tutorial that still goes on to learn about why I felt with such confidence that night that a great blessing could come from adversity to more than compensate for any cost.
The adversity that hit me in that faraway day now seems tiny compared to what has come since—to me and to those I love. Many of you are now passing through physical, mental, and emotional trials that could cause you to cry out as did one great and faithful servant of God I knew well. His nurse heard him exclaim from his bed of pain, “When I have tried all my life to be good, why has this happened to me?”

But let us consider … the actual translation of this record. Joseph Smith says he did it by the gift and power of God, through the use of the Urim and Thummim. As unlearned as he was at that time in his life, he could have done it in no other way. …
… Oliver Cowdery, his scribe, said the same thing, adding, “I wrote with my own pen the entire Book of Mormon (save a few pages) as it fell from the lips of the Prophet [Joseph Smith] as he translated it by the gift and power of God.”1
Martin Harris, another assistant scribe, bore the same testimony. And Emma Smith, the beloved wife of the Prophet, who … assisted at times as a scribe, bore this testimony:
“I am satisfied that no man could have dictated the writing of the manuscripts unless he was inspired; for, when [I acted] as his scribe, [Joseph] would dictate to me hour after hour; and when returning after meals, or after interruptions, he would at once begin where he had left off, without either seeing the manuscript or having any portion of it read to him. … It would have been improbable that a learned man could do this; and, for one so … unlearned as he was, it was simply impossible.”2 …
The Book of Mormon is a literary and a religious masterpiece and is far beyond even the fondest hopes or abilities of any farm boy. It is a modern revelation from end to end. It is God-given. …
The whole task of translation was a miracle. The book is “a marvellous work and a wonder,” as Isaiah said (Isa. 29:14). …
From cover to cover the Book of Mormon is a revelation, an inspired translation, the work of God and not of any man. From cover to cover it is true. …

Years ago, I found a summer job on an oyster boat in Long Island Sound. Four of us lived together in an area not much larger than the cab of a big semitrailer truck. At first, I was considered a spy for the owner, then a boy who didn’t have courage to “live like a man.” The others really gave me a bad time. Finally, when they understood that I would not do wrong things to prove I was a man, they left me alone, and we became friends. And then privately, one by one, they asked for help.

Once while camping in the beautiful canyons of southern Utah, the group I was with hiked the rock formations and learned how water had worked away at the stones for thousands of years to form their current design. At night, we stared at the thousands of stars in awe. At times like these, I’ve had friends who have commented, “With such numerous creations, I don’t think God knows me or cares about my life.”

“You want us to do what?” they asked. “For how long? Why?”
When she heard those questions, McKenzie McNaughton knew this project might be a challenge.
At the beginning of the school year, McKenzie, a senior and member of the student council at Washington Township High School in Deptford, New Jersey, hatched an idea. She wanted the entire senior class to spend one school day providing service in the community. Nothing too elaborate. Just a few hours sprucing up the place.
“I started thinking about what I wanted to give back to the school and what we could do,” she says. “I thought this would be a good way.”
And that’s how Washington Township’s Senior Service Day began.
Things got a little tricky when she presented the idea to her fellow students, however.
“In September, when I told the student body of my idea at the beginning of an assembly, they were excited,” McKenzie says. “But then what I was saying started to sink in. Before the assembly was over, a lot of guys were saying, ‘You’re not going to get us all to go and clean a park. We’re not going to do this.’
“And I’m still in the EFY, youth-conference mode,” McKenzie adds. “I’m thinking, ‘We’re going to get to clean together, guys. We get to rake. And we’re doing it for free!’ I had to finally realize that maybe everybody wouldn’t be as excited just to spend a day working.”
Those few negative responses didn’t diminish McKenzie’s enthusiasm for the project, though. It was now McKenzie’s job to get those naysaying students into, as she says, “the mode.”
Nine months later, and a week before they all graduated, approximately 500 of the senior class’s 600 students shuffled out of the school holding rakes and shovels to board buses headed for nearby parks and schools.
If there is one thing McKenzie knows, it’s service projects. If you’re a Latter-day Saint, they kind of come with the territory. Since McKenzie turned 12 and joined Young Women, she’s helped paint a preschool building, and she’s gone on her ward’s annual Christmas caroling excursions to local hospitals. “We also regularly visit nursing homes, and we’ve given Easter baskets to the Ronald McDonald House,” she says. And McKenzie isn’t even including her Young Women Value Experiences which consisted of—among other things—acquiring donated fleece and using it to make toys and pillows she then donated to the local women’s shelter.
Senior Service Day was a little different from those activities in one big way. This was McKenzie’s idea, and she had to make it happen. There was no Laurel adviser to coordinate everything. So to accomplish her goal, McKenzie had to inspire a bunch of students not experienced in service projects to pitch in. “I think my high school is full of good kids. This will work,” she said confidently the day before the event.
“When I do service, it makes me more grateful for what I have. It’s a ton of work, but I think you learn how to work. It’s so fun. You really like to work,” she adds.
McKenzie was also only one of two Church members in her senior class. She knew she was perceived as being different by her classmates. And coming up with the idea of Senior Service Day didn’t necessarily change their opinions. “Because I don’t go to the parties on Fridays, other kids will ask me what I like to do. Then they become curious. Once I went on a picnic with a couple of kids who I kind of knew but wasn’t really good friends with. We were just talking about stuff, and we ended up talking for an hour-and-a-half about the Church.” Serving others was one of the topics that day. Senior Service Day would give McKenzie the opportunity to practice what she preached.
Still, there was the little issue of instilling excitement in the other students about—ahem—the prospect of raking. There was also a lot of planning necessary to make the whole thing happen. “I didn’t realize how much work had to be put into it,” she says.
With the help of teachers and counselors who offered their help, and after postponing the day twice, June 1 finally came and everything was in order. McKenzie made sure of it, checking off each item one by one:
X The school district had furnished the buses to transport the students.
X Bus drivers volunteered their time.
X The township had approved the work in several different parks.
X The elementary and middle schools’ principals were enthusiastic about the service the students would provide.
X A local pizza restaurant had donated pizzas for the party afterward, and grocery stores had provided soda pop.
“I think it’s going to be great,” she said, the day before Senior Service Day would actually happen. Pizzas and cases of soda as enticements certainly couldn’t hurt.
Even with all the planning, the next morning McKenzie drove from place to place to make sure everything was coordinated and going according to plan. She found students who had descended on the sites, and she thought back to that first assembly. “I think they kind of didn’t get what we were trying to do in the very beginning. But after they thought about it, they realized it could be fun,” she says.
At one school, several girls hemmed the bottom of the frayed stage curtain. Outside, another group was picking up litter along a fence line. At a middle school, kids were spading and weeding a garden while others were—yes!—raking the courtyard lawn.
And later that morning at The Birches Elementary School sat McKenzie. She was reading to the second-graders who had crowded around a wooden rocking chair. Eleven years earlier, McKenzie had been in this classroom. Her teacher from back then was still teaching. As McKenzie looked at the new batch of seven- and eight-year-olds, she fondly remembered her days in the school.
The kids were attentive, listening as McKenzie read from a children’s book.
“It was so much fun being back in that classroom,” she says afterward. “This has gone so well.”
A few hours later, the students were back at the high school sitting around listening to music, eating pizza, and smiling about what they had accomplished.
“You want us to do what? For how long? Why?”
They now had their answers.
McKenzie no longer lives in New Jersey. She’s now a student at BYU in Provo, Utah. Senior Service Day is long since over.
“I’m glad we did it. I think it was a success,” she says.
Which just proves what can happen when everybody gets in the “EFY, youth-conference mode.”