Gospel Story Finder

Rick Boggess of Richfield, Utah, has used his part-time job as a stepping stone to his chosen field. Rick worked part-time as a dishwasher in a restaurant, advanced to a cook, and, after a mission, is now working as a cook to help cover his educational expenses. According to Rick, “Counselors can be a big help in aiding you to take an honest look at yourself and in helping you to decide what you really want to do.” He plans to become a restaurant manager and owner.

Recently I received an assignment to minister to a sister neither my companion nor I knew well. As I counseled with Jess, my 16-year-old ministering companion, she wisely suggested, “We need to get to know her.”
We immediately decided that a selfie and an introductory text were in order. I held the phone, and Jess pushed the button to take the photo. Our first ministering opportunity was a companionship effort.
On our first visit, we asked our sister if there was anything we could include in our prayers on her behalf. She shared a tender personal challenge and said she would so welcome our prayers. Her honesty and confidence brought an instant bond of love. What a sweet privilege to remember her in my daily prayers.

After the end of the war, I returned to New York, where I met an old friend, a pastor of my former church. He interceded for me with the synod, and I was finally admitted to the congregation as a lay member. As an experiment, it was agreed that I should accompany one of the pastors on a mission to New Zealand and Australia.
In Australia, we met some Italian immigrants who asked questions about the errors in some Bible translations. They were not satisfied with my companion’s answers. When they asked me about it, I once again told the story of Christ’s appearance to the people of America. When they asked me where I had learned such teachings, I told them of the book I had found. The story was good to them but bad for my colleague. He reported me to the synod, and once again they cut me off from the church.

Newell B. Stevenson, a lifelong friend of Elder Faust, recalls that Butler Hill was also the local ski resort. “We used to go skiing there,” he relates. “That was back in the days when we didn’t know what ski boots and ski bindings and all those sorts of things were. We built ourselves a jump, and if you had a little good luck, you made it all the way down to the bottom. Of course, once you got to the bottom of the hill, you had to walk back up. Once Jim (Elder Faust) lost a ski and fell hard and broke his collarbone.

When he was 24 years old, he prayed one night and felt prompted to read the Bible. He opened it randomly to Isaiah 56:1.
Wilford: “For my salvation is near to come, and my righteousness to be revealed.” I wonder if that means I will soon learn of the true gospel.
Within two years of this inspiration, Wilford had moved to New York, learned about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and been baptized. The Lord had answered his prayers!

Brethren and sisters, after what I’ve heard here today—certainly a full coverage of the subject—I am reminded of an experience I had some years ago. I believe it was one of the few times, if not the only time, that we General Authorities were asked by the Brethren to treat a certain subject at a stake conference. That week I went to Richfield, and Brother Clifford Young went over to Monroe. They had a chorus of young folks from the school sing at Richfield while I was there in the morning, and then they went over to Monroe in the afternoon and sang where Brother Young was. It happened that I talked about the assigned subject in the morning, and Clifford talked about it in the afternoon. When we made our report to the Council of the Twelve, Brother Young said it had been a fine occasion; the only bad thing about it was that those students had had to listen to the same subject twice. President George F. Richards, then president of the Twelve, said, “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. I don’t suppose they knew you were talking about the same subject.”

Let’s compare John’s experiences with those of a Latter-day Saint teenager named David.
In open defiance and rebellion against his father, David stole the family car. Succumbing to the excitement of high speed, he failed to negotiate a turn, rolled the car several times, and was critically injured. Fortunately, those who were riding with him received only minor injuries.
The family and ward members fasted and prayed for David’s recovery. He was given a special blessing by his home teachers and was visited often in the hospital. Even the other young men in the accident and their parents visited and expressed hope for his recovery. Although David was left somewhat crippled and scarred, he recovered and everyone thanked the Lord for preserving his life.

Elder David O. McKay compared our walk through life to the walk of a small child and his father through a busy and frightening city. As long as the child holds his father’s hand, he is safe. The minute the child allows himself to become confused by the bustle of the crowd and breaks away from his father’s grasp, he is in danger (Conference Report, Oct. 1928, 36–37).

One summer while traveling in a remote area, our family spent an evening sleeping outdoors under a cloudless sky. Clearly visible above us was the magnificent Milky Way, filled with innumerable stars and the occasional shooting star. While we marveled at the majesty of God’s creation, we felt a reverent connection to Him. Our young children, who had grown up in Hong Kong, had never experienced anything like this before. They innocently asked if we lived under the same sky back home. I tried to explain to them that it was the same sky, but air and light pollution where we lived prevented us from seeing these stars even though they were there.

Shawn G. (Joseph, red cast) remembers how one of his props would malfunction whenever he prepared to go on stage. “Every time I would attempt to turn on my battery-powered candle, it would quickly turn off. No matter how many times I pushed the button and fidgeted with the batteries, the candle would not light backstage,” he says. “However, every single time I went out on stage, it always lit perfectly without fail.”

We had a similar experience when we called another man to be the president of our stake mission. Through some discouraging experiences in Church service, he thought himself halfway on the road to apostasy and not at all sure of his testimony. He resisted his appointment vigorously, saying that it would deprive him of time to do some of the most enjoyable things in life. We explained to him how once again we had sought the direction from the Lord about who should preside over the mission. We told him that he was not being forced to accept the call, but that he should ask his Heavenly Father whether or not it was right for him to serve. The Lord gave him a powerful assurance that he was called to the work. The following year he, with his missionaries, baptized nearly ten percent of all the nonmembers in our stake. Later on, he was called to be a bishop.

Illustration by Yevhenia Haidamaka
It was a regular day. I was getting my bike from the bike rack after school when I saw a girl around my age at the other end of the rack. I said, “Hi, my name is Mindy. What’s yours?”
“Hi, Mindy. My name is Madison,” she said. Madison had straight brown hair and dark red glasses. She was sitting next to her bike. As I talked to her, she said a swear word, and I automatically said, “Please don’t say that.”
“OK, I’ll just say, ‘Oh my peanut butter,’ because me and my brother have an obsession with peanut butter,” Madison said.
“That seems OK,” I said.
Somehow our conversation got around to religion. She told me she wasn’t a member of the Church. Madison told me that she lived with her mom and her mom’s boyfriend. Eventually I said, “Would you like a copy of the Friend?”
“What’s the Friend?” she asked, and I told her what it was. The next day I brought her a copy. After she read it, she told me she liked it, and I gave her the New Era. Madison read that, and we continued to meet. She told me that she wants to get baptized.
Someday I’ll give her the Book of Mormon and the Ensign. I hope that Madison will get baptized and, when she’s old enough, go on a mission and get married in the temple.

Ruby Quigley of the Poole Ward said, “I was grateful to have been a part of this service project, especially to do it on Christmas Day. It was nice to meet other people less fortunate than myself and see how grateful they were for a gently used warm coat or a hot meal.”

It was an unusual day for Southern California, USA, with thunder, lightning, pouring rain, and oppressive heat. I looked forward to relaxing and watching a movie in my air-conditioned home. But just as I sat down, I felt that I should call my friend Sherrill.
When I called, I learned that she had been without power since that morning. She was concerned that her frozen food would thaw and her milk would spoil, so we moved her food to my refrigerator.
The next evening Sherrill and I stood in front of her home. Every house on her side of the road was in total darkness, while those across the street had power. One house in particular caught my attention. Directly across the street, the home blazed with light as people sat on the porch talking, laughing, and enjoying themselves.
In the days that followed, I could not get that scene out of my mind. The contrast was striking: total darkness on one side of the street and bright lights on the other; people sitting in darkness while their neighbors were enjoying light.
The image made me wonder how often I was like those people across the street—enjoying the light of the gospel while others sat in darkness. I imagined myself sitting on my porch with a few friends from church, enjoying the light of the gospel without sharing it with others.
As members of the Church, we have the responsibility to let our testimonies of Christ shine for all to see—especially for those in spiritual darkness. After this experience, I determined to be the kind of person Heavenly Father can trust to come away from the comfort of my porch and carry the light of the gospel to my neighbors who are in darkness.

To illustrate her point, she spoke of the kittens that she loved so much as a child growing up in Canada. “I named two of them Nicodemus and Rufus,” she said with a chuckle. “Cats bite and scratch, you know. But they are also soft and loving. I think if we look to life and make our plans expecting some good times but also some bites and scratches—real hurting experiences—and learn to think of the bad times as something that will pass, then life can be sweet and we won’t be disappointed or become bitter.”

When I departed for active duty with the navy, a member of my ward bishopric was at the train station to bid me farewell. Just before train time, he placed in my hand a book titled Missionary Handbook. I laughed and commented, “I’m not going on a mission.” He answered, “Take it anyway. It may come in handy.”
It did. During basic training our company commander instructed us concerning how we might best pack our clothing in a large sea bag. He advised, “If you have a hard, rectangular object you can place in the bottom of the bag, your clothes will stay more firm.” I suddenly remembered just the right rectangular object—the Missionary Handbook. Thus it served for 12 weeks.
The night preceding our Christmas leave our thoughts were, as always, on home. The barracks were quiet. Suddenly I became aware that my buddy in the adjoining bunk—a Mormon boy, Leland Merrill—was moaning with pain. I asked, “What’s the matter, Merrill?”
He replied, “I’m sick. I’m really sick.”
I advised him to go to the base dispensary, but he answered knowingly that such a course would prevent him from being home for Christmas.
The hours lengthened; his groans grew louder. Then, in desperation, he whispered, “Monson, Monson, aren’t you an elder?” I acknowledged this to be so, whereupon he said, “Give me a blessing.”
I became very much aware that I had never given a blessing. I had never received such a blessing, and I had never witnessed a blessing being given. My prayer to God was a plea for help. The answer came: “Look in the bottom of the sea bag.” Thus, at 2:00 A.M. I emptied on the deck the contents of the bag. I then took to the night light that hard, rectangular object, the Missionary Handbook, and read how one blesses the sick. With about 120 curious sailors looking on, I proceeded with the blessing. Before I could stow my gear, Leland Merrill was sleeping like a child.
The next morning Merrill smilingly turned to me and said, “Monson, I’m glad you hold the priesthood.” His gladness was only surpassed by my gratitude.

As the children in sacrament meeting happily sang the Primary song “Love Is Spoken Here,” everyone smiled with approval. A courageous mother raising five children listened attentively to the second verse: “Mine is a home where [every] hour is blessed by the strength of priesthood [power].” Sadly she thought, “My children have never known such a home.”
My message to this faithful woman and to all is that we can live every hour “blessed by the strength of priesthood power,” whatever our circumstance.

One inactive member was jolted into the realization that she was not converted to the Church when her son went on a mission. Comparing herself to others whose impressive conversion stories she had heard, she asked herself, “Why are these people converted so powerfully, and I, with my pioneer heritage, remain unconverted?” She began to read the Book of Mormon even though she doubted its worth and found it boring. Then a friend challenged her. She said, “You say you believe in prayer. Well, why don’t you pray about it?”

This she did, and after she had prayed, she began to read the Book of Mormon again. It was no longer boring. The more she read, the more fascinated she became with it and thought, “Joseph Smith couldn’t have written that—these words were from God!” She finished reading it and wondered how God would tell her that it was true. She said: “A power strong, beautiful, and joyful moved completely through my body. … I knew that Jesus Christ was resurrected, … that Joseph Smith was a prophet who saw God and Jesus Christ. I knew that he miraculously translated ancient records with God’s guidance. I knew that Joseph Smith received revelations from God.” It changed her life because now she too was a convert!

I’m 17 years old, and today is a very special day for me because I’m getting baptized. I just finished reading “Conversion in Israel,” and I want to thank Stan Lerch for that beautiful story. It touched me very deeply. It seems as if every time I need something, it is there in the New Era. It is like a prayer being answered.
Peter ScroginLake Oswego, Oregon

On the Saturday before Valentine’s Day, Samuel’s ward Primary visited a nursing home. “We’ll each adopt a grandma or grandpa,” Sister Myers, the Primary president, said as the children gathered inside the building.
Five-year-old Samuel stayed close by his mother who was a Primary teacher. He looked around and was a little afraid. Some of the people were in wheelchairs. Others used walkers or crutches. One lady had tubes coming out of her nose.
“I’m scared,” he whispered to his mother.
“I know this can be a little scary,” his mother said. “Try to remember that all of these people are children of Heavenly Father, just like you. The only difference is that the people who live here are older.”
“A lot older,” Samuel said.
He felt better when the children started singing “I Am a Child of God.” That was his favorite song. The Primary chorister then led them in singing “When Grandpa Comes,” “A Happy Family,” and “Mother Dear.”
The grandmas and grandpas all clapped.
“We’re going to make valentines now,” Sister Myers said. She assigned each child a “grandma” or a “grandpa.”
Samuel discovered that his adopted grandfather was in a wheelchair. Samuel stuck out his hand and said, “I’m Samuel.”
“My name is Jackson Gaither,” the man said as he shook Samuel’s hand.
Mr. Gaither tried to cut the valentine from the red paper, but he couldn’t make the scissors open and close. “My hands don’t work so good any more,” he said.
“That’s all right,” Samuel whispered. Then he helped Mr. Gaither finish cutting out the heart. They wrote their names by each other and glued glitter all around their names.
Samuel held up his hands and looked at them. They were covered with glitter.
Mr. Gaither’s hands were also covered with glitter. He looked at Samuel and smiled. “Looks like we’re wearing as much glitter as that valentine.”
“I like glitter,” Samuel said.
“Me too,” Mr. Gaither said. He looked at the wrinkles in the heart from where he’d tried to cut it out. “It has a few wrinkles,” he said and winked at Samuel. “I guess that’s all right since I have some wrinkles too.”
Samuel winked back. Then he gave his adopted grandpa a big hug before he left.
“I wasn’t afraid of Mr. Gaither,” Samuel told his mother. “I remembered what you told me. He’s just a child of God with wrinkles.”