Gospel Story Finder

My second story centers around Great-Uncle Grover, who lived in a house out in the country, far from the city. Uncle Grover was getting very old. We thought our sons should meet him before he died. So, one afternoon, we took a long drive to his humble house. We sat together to visit and introduce him to our sons. Not long into the conversation, our two young boys, maybe five and six years old, wanted to go outside and play.
Uncle Grover, hearing their request, bent over with his face in theirs. His face was so weathered and unfamiliar that the boys were a little scared of him. He said to them, in his gravelly voice, “Be careful—there are a lot of skunks out there.” Hearing this, Lesa and I were more than startled; we were worried that they might get sprayed by a skunk! The boys soon went outside to play as we continued to visit.
Later, when we got in the car to go home, I inquired of the boys, “Did you see a skunk?” One of them replied, “No, we didn’t see any skunks, but we did see a black kitty cat with a white stripe on its back!”

When the magnificent ocean liner Lusitania sank to the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean in 1915, many lives were lost with the vessel. Unknown are many deeds of valor performed by those who died. One man who went down with the Lusitania gave his life preserver to a woman, though he could not swim a stroke. It made no difference that he was Alfred Vanderbilt, the American multimillionaire. He did give of worldly treasure; he gave his life. Said Emerson, “Rings and other jewels are not gifts, but apologies for gifts. The only gift is a portion of thyself’ (“Gifts,” in The Complete Writings of Ralph Waldo Emerson, New York: Wm. H. Wise and Co., 1929, page 286).

With just a month left on my mission, I felt like I needed to take action and find my family’s records before I returned home. I prayed to know if there was something more I could do, and I felt a distinct prompting from the Spirit telling me that I needed to get a copy of those vital records that I had seen months ago. I told my mission president that I felt like I needed to return to my family’s village in Switzerland and explained why. The village was 87 miles (140 km) away, but my mission president gave me permission to go anyway.
It was dusk when the narrow winding road took us up the mountain into the hamlet of Vergeletto. We stopped at the focal point of town, the Catholic church. My companion and I were then drawn to the cemetery across the street from the church that was all lit up with candles.
As we entered the cemetery, I clearly and strongly felt the Spirit guide me like I never had before. That feeling and the fresh alpine air created a sensation I will never forget. In the cemetery, it seemed that every other tombstone had my last name on it. We even saw my great-grandfather’s tomb; it said people went to him to repair their broken bones.
We returned to the church to see if we could find the priest. There we met an old man, who told us it was Il Giorno dei Morti, or a holiday known as the Day of the Dead (which would explain all the candles in the cemetery). The man told us that the priest had services in neighboring villages and would be back in two hours.
My companion and I waited, and when the priest returned, I reminded him of our encounter a few months earlier and then asked if I could see the vital records of the parish again.
He agreed.
The priest brought out a box of books that were hundreds of years old. I told the priest that our Church was microfilming parish records in Parma, Italy, 170 miles (274 km) away. I asked if he would allow us to take the records for a few weeks and have them copied.
He again agreed. I was shocked.
As we left town, I marveled at what had just happened and even checked the rearview mirror to see if the priest was running after us with a change of heart. Two weeks later, we returned the records to him, as promised.

A bit of subtle humor is found in an account of a conversation between Mark Twain and a friend. Said the wealthy friend to Twain, “Before I die, I mean to make a pilgrimage to the Holy Land. I will climb to the top of Mount Sinai and read the Ten Commandments aloud.”
Replied Twain, “Why don’t you stay home and keep them!”

The sun began to set behind the baseball diamond. Brent squinted, focusing on the pitcher in front of him.
Brent shifted his weight back and forth, waiting for the next pitch. As the pitcher started his windup, everything seemed to slow down. Brent watched the ball sail from the pitcher’s hand and arc toward him.
Brent swung his arms and watched his bat smack the baseball with a mighty crack! The next thing he knew, Brent was watching the ball sail over the head of the outfielder.
“Great job, Brent!” Coach said. “All right, guys. Practice is over. I’ll see you all in a couple of days for our big game against the Tigers.”
Brent had a lot of fun playing baseball, and he was glad to be on his new team. Usually he walked home with teammates who lived in his neighborhood, but tonight he decided to walk home alone. After all, he was 11 years old and an all-star. Getting home couldn’t be too hard.
After walking for a few minutes, Brent realized that nothing really looked familiar. He didn’t recognize any of the houses or the people he passed by. Still, he wasn’t too concerned—until he noticed that the once-bright orange sky was now turning gray.
Brent felt relieved when he crossed the railroad tracks. He knew that his neighborhood was somewhere on the other side of these tracks. But as the evening light faded into darkness, his confidence faded into panic and fear.
Brent didn’t know how long or far he had walked, but he could definitely tell that he was not near his home.
Trembling with cold and fear, Brent did the only thing he could think to do. He knelt down in the tall weeds of a vacant lot and prayed more sincerely than he had ever prayed before.
Then something wonderful happened. Brent’s fear and panic disappeared. A feeling of peace and joy washed over him. Brent was still lost, but he knew that Heavenly Father had heard his prayer.
Brent wiped tears from his eyes and stood up. He knew everything would be OK.
As Brent looked around, wondering which way to walk, he had a new idea.
“The temple,” Brent thought. “Of course!” Brent lived only a few blocks from the temple. He knew that if he could just find the temple, he would be able to find his way home.
Brent walked up the hill that was just ahead of him. When he reached the top, he could clearly see the spire of the temple illuminating the night sky.
Brent had seen the temple many times before, but seeing the temple standing as a beacon in front of him now felt especially meaningful.
Brent changed his direction and continued to walk, always keeping his eyes on the temple. Finally, he reached his home.
Brent felt grateful that Heavenly Father had heard his prayer. And he was especially thankful that he had the gift of the temple to help him find his way home.

Vicci Spicer, who loaned the show her antique Tibetan wood replica of a Masonic temple, which dated back to the 1500s, said that she was grateful for the opportunity she was given to participate in the art show.
“Usually, since my faith is Judaism, I’m not invited to religious art shows,” Ms. Spicer said. “I met many wonderful people and saw beautiful pieces of art, but most of all I found friendship within the Mormon Church.”

When I moved away from home and started my life as an adult, I needed to find a lot of answers. I particularly struggled to know how to understand my relationship with the priesthood as a woman. I heard contradictory statements from friends, ward members, and online sources. I felt confused and unsatisfied by the answers that others gave me to explain the role of women in the Church.

The question kept coming back to me: I know that God loves me equally, but how can I feel equal to men when I have a different role? I couldn’t help but feel like having a different role meant having a lesser role. Dwelling on these questions felt like starting up the mountain at 1:00 a.m. I couldn’t see the answer yet, and searching felt dark, cold, and discouraging.

In the October 2019 general conference, President Russell M. Nelson issued an invitation, specifically directed to the women of the Church: “I entreat you to study prayerfully all the truths you can find about priesthood power.” He encouraged us to understand how we could have the same access to priesthood power as a man could. Here was a prophetic invitation to ask my questions and then devote time to studying them. President Nelson promised that as we did so prayerfully, our ability to draw upon priesthood power in our lives would increase.

Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles has said: “Asking questions isn’t a sign of weakness. It’s a precursor of growth. God commands us to seek answers to our questions and asks only that we seek ‘with a sincere heart, with real intent, having faith in Christ’ [Moroni 10:4].”

Understanding that I could have faith and have questions was key for me as I began to search for an answer. It helped me remember what I did know: God loves me; He speaks through His prophets; He wants me to feel joy. By starting my search based on this foundation, I was able to turn to good sources that I had already gained a testimony of. Specifically, there were talks by President Nelson, President Dallin H. Oaks, and other General Authorities that all taught the same truths and helped me understand how God feels about me.

The sections in the Doctrine and Covenants mentioned by President Nelson (sections 84 and 107) gave me another starting point. I could lean on the testimony I had already gained of the scriptures to support my fledgling understanding of truths about the role and value of women in God’s plan. I felt grateful for trusted family members, friends, and ward leaders who offered their thoughts and let me bounce ideas off them. It helped me the most when they would point me to other helpful resources that I could read for myself instead of giving me their opinions.

I spent many hours reading and praying. Prayer helped me keep my eyes on Heavenly Father; I felt His love for me through the process of asking Him questions. Through my studies, here are just a few of the truths I learned:
I have direct access to the power of God as I keep my covenants.
I am given authority from God to act in my calling when I am set apart by someone with the proper priesthood authority.
I received a gift of God’s priesthood power when I was endowed in the temple and a knowledge of how to draw upon that power.
I can experience exaltation and return to live with God someday if I keep His commandments (see Doctrine and Covenants 25:15).

I received peace and clarity as I searched for answers to my question. While I can communicate some of the truths I learned and my process for coming to an answer, the full answer was impressed upon my soul in a way that is difficult to explain. I refer to the experience of learning these truths as a sacred struggle. As I dedicated time to pray about my questions and wrestle with them, I created space for God to teach me.

What started as an area of confusion and darkness led to specific, quiet experiences with God as the Spirit distilled knowledge or increased my patience. I have faith as I approach other questions that I can work with my Heavenly Father to feel more peace and confidence in His plan. Now I try to support those around me in their sacred struggles so that they can come to know eternal truths by the spirit of revelation.

Jessica P. and Nory A., two young women who live on Santa Cruz, know this personally. They are both converts and have both seen the difference keeping the commandments makes. There aren’t very many members in the Galápagos Islands (only 125 members in their branch out of around 25,000 people on their island). It can be difficult to stay on the strait and narrow path (see 1 Nephi 8:20; 2 Nephi 4:33; 31:17–19; Alma 7:19) with temptations such as alcohol and drugs all around.
Nory has seen the challenges in her own family. A year after her family was baptized, they were sealed in the Guayaquil Ecuador Temple. Not long after, however, several members of her family fell away. For a time she and her mom were the only ones who participated in church. How did she stay strong?
“Family home evening,” she says. “For a while, just my mom and I would hold it. Later my older brother and my dad started coming. And every time we study the gospel, my dad says, ‘This is for me.’ Now he is getting stronger and my brother too.”

I’m thinking of a five-year-old boy who fell out of bed during the night and came crying to his mother’s bedside. To her question, “Why did you fall out of bed?” he replied, “I fell out because I wasn’t in far enough!”

When a Hawaiian swimsuit company approached surfing pro Joy Monahan and offered to be her sponsor, the Honolulu native had some reservations. “I told them, ‘I really only wear modest one-piece suits.’” So they worked with Joy to design a swimsuit that was both modest and functional for surfing. They even named it after her, and it has since become one of the more popular swimsuits of their line.

I usually take one of the local freeways to work. It’s the quickest and easiest way to get there. I try to leave early enough in the morning to miss the heavy traffic, when things slow down and accidents can happen.
One morning, however, I got out of the house later than usual and ended up in congested traffic. As I merged onto the freeway, I thought about my scripture study that morning. I had had the impression that I focus too much on worldly things and not enough on spiritual things. As I drove to work, I thought about how I could be more attentive to spiritual things throughout the day.
Then I noticed a message on one of the large electronic signs over the freeway that alert drivers of accidents or road conditions. As I got closer, I read, “Crash ahead at Mesa Drive—center lane blocked.” I didn’t want to be inconvenienced by having to get off the freeway, so I wondered how long I could stay on the freeway before I had to exit.
Then another thought came to my mind: If I ignored the sign, could I be putting myself in a situation that would be dangerous? Was I ignoring a warning just because I didn’t want my schedule disrupted? Clearly, I was inclined to ignore warnings of my physical safety; how often I had pushed aside promptings for my spiritual safety?
As I pondered about how to be more attentive to the Spirit, I realized that Heavenly Father probably sends me many messages throughout the day. I wondered how many times I had missed His messages because I wasn’t listening for spiritual promptings. I committed to do better.
I checked the traffic, changed lanes, and took the next exit. By using the city roads to get to work, I was able to avoid all the hazards and dangers of staying on the freeway as the accident was cleaned up.
I know that the Lord loves me enough to send me His messages. I simply need to be in tune with the spiritual promptings He sends me.

Jesus Christ changed my life when I was baptized at the age of 26 in my beloved Frutillar, Chile. At that time, my job took me across the ocean, rivers, and lakes of the beautiful Chilean Patagonia. After my baptism, I saw my work and my life in a new and different way, recognizing that truly “all things denote there is a God.”

One of the fathers he was teaching had what was thought to be an incurable alcohol problem. Every day after work for twenty years, he bought alcohol and consumed it until he could hardly find his way home. He received friendship and encouragement to pray to heaven for help. One day after his work, while he was driving into the countryside with his bottle, a voice came into his heart to stop his car, walk out into the field, and pray to Father in Heaven for help. His simple prayer was heard by his Father in Heaven, and as he stood up and walked back to his car, all desire to drink liquor left his life. The powers of heaven had descended upon him, and he knew that God lived and loved him.

I heard him later stand before the members and testify of the love of God and of my friend and others who had ministered unto him and taught him.

When I decided to serve a mission, one of the most difficult things was reading the Book of Mormon and keeping a journal. It took me an entire hour to read just one page of the scriptures. Since I had never been great at writing, I wondered how I would be able to effectively document in my journal all the wonderful experiences I would have as a missionary.
But I kept trying and praying for the Lord’s help.
As time went by, I saw small changes. By the end of my mission, I was able to read better than I ever had in my life. And as I kept attempting to write in my journal, I suddenly learned that I actually enjoyed writing. When I finished my mission, I had filled five journals.
This experience taught me that when we turn to the Lord in our efforts, He can truly bring about miracles in our lives.

Whenever anyone said something nice to Dan, he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—accept it. A typical conversation with his teachers quorum adviser went something like this:
“Hey, Dan, glad you came! We can really use your help on the ward basketball team.”
“I’m no good at basketball. The only reason I came was because the other guys kept calling me.”
“Well, get warmed up. We need your outside shot.”
“I don’t have an outside shot. I don’t even have an inside shot.”
“So … what do you do in a game?”
“Mainly try to get the other team to feel sorry for me,” Dan said glumly.

Let’s take another look at Dan, this time with a more positive light in his life.
“Hey, Dan, glad you came! We can really use your help on the ward basketball team.”
“I’m glad to be here.”
“Well, get warmed up. We need your outside shot.”
“Okay. Maybe I can work with Steve a little. He’s good at passing, and that, along with what I can do, should be a good combination. You know, I’m starting to feel a little sorry for the other team.”

I grew up in a very loving family, and my whole life was centered around the gospel of Jesus Christ. I was first assistant in the priests quorum, and I served a mission. Shortly after returning home from my mission, I was arrested for a very serious crime. I was sentenced to 15 years in prison and excommunicated from the Church. As I sit here thinking of the many mistakes I made in life, I am now getting my life back together. Each month I receive the New Era, and I learn from each article I read. I use them in my daily walk in life, and they help me and lift me in times of despair.
Name Withheld

Their warmth of personality also makes Fijian Saints good member-missionaries. It is not unusual to find that members of wards and branches knew each other before they joined the Church. The week after they were baptized, Seminsi and Sereana Ratu, members of the Rakiraki Branch, introduced the missionaries to two contacts. Now five of the Ratus’ friends have been baptized.

During my senior year of high school I decided to try out for the school musical. I liked to sing, and ever since I was young I enjoyed acting. When I was in elementary school, I wrote and put on plays with my friends for our fellow classmates. But somewhere between elementary and high school I developed a severe case of stage fright. Being on the stage was both exhilarating and terrifying!
On the day before auditions I received some alarming news—the auditions would be “open,” meaning I’d have to sing in front of not only the teachers, but all the students who were trying out. I was devastated. The thought of singing a solo in front of a room full of students made me numb with fear. I couldn’t see how I could possibly go through with it.
That night, I began to debate if I should even try out. I went through the pros and cons with my mom. My older brother overheard our conversation. “I don’t know why you’re so worried,” he said with some frustration. “You can sing and dance just as well as anyone else.” His words surprised me because he rarely said things like that. I knew he cared about me, but at the time he usually didn’t admit to it. The pros won, and I decided to try out.
The following day I entered the drama room after school to await my audition. As I sat with the other students in the packed classroom, I could feel the color leave my face, and my whole body trembled slightly. I was nervous and unable to calm myself. Then the thought came to mind: “My brother believes in me. He believes I can do this.” Maybe I would be just fine after all.
With courage in my brother’s words, I walked on stage, phased out all the faces in the crowd, and sang. I sang my heart out. I gave it all I had and finished strong. When I was done, I looked out at my peers and teachers and saw many smiles. I was happy for performing so well and relieved it was over.
I made call-backs and got a part. I’m glad I tried out because that musical was a highlight of my senior year.
The experience of that audition has stuck with me. My brother’s words, and knowing he believed in me, helped me to conquer something that seemed so impossible to me.

Over the next few months, I started shopping for my mission attire. Coming from Scotland, I’m no stranger to cold weather so I was going to be well prepared. But every time I went to buy something like a winter coat, big woolly jumpers, hat, scarves, or gloves, I’d get the answer, “No!” I’d leave it a couple of days then go elsewhere. Again, the answer would be “No! Don’t buy that.” I couldn’t believe I was being prompted to buy certain clothes.
The promptings were very specific. I’d pick up clothes and I’d hold the hanger and wait for a yes or a no. I obediently bought according to those promptings. When I look back, I can’t believe how much the Holy Ghost kept prompting me and specifically telling me things each day—I was not asking for such clarity. I’ve never experienced this level of prompting ever since. That was how it was supposed to be—minute detail.

Still earlier than Mark Twain (and with more reverence) Orson Hyde came to the land of Israel to dedicate it for the prophesied gathering of its people. Elder Hyde circled Jerusalem with spiritual thoughts in mind but could not escape the physical cost of walking there, commenting with mild humor: “After returning to the city, I found my feet and legs completely coated with dust; for the whole face of the country was like an ash bed in consequence of the great length of the dry season. I then thought how very convenient it must have been for the ancient disciples to fulfill one injunction of the Savior, ‘shake off the dust of your feet.’”7