Gospel Story Finder

Sister Ivone Armada from the Luanda Stake in Angola decided to use the Savior’s perspective as a guide for her gospel living. With her permission, I am sharing her comments. She wrote:
“At some point in my life, I was finally able to stop working to keep up with my children’s growth and home management. But I wanted to do something more, to contribute to the growth of one’s life.
“I prayed to the Lord, and at the end of the prayer an ‘angel’ was placed in my life—a friend who would help me become a facilitator to teach literacy classes.
“We started the training for this and when it ended, I divulged the project in the Church and in the community and thus formed a class where I could teach during a school year for children and adults with literacy needs.
“It was a great gift in my life, indeed for my whole family, since the preparation of the classes became a family project. It became a beacon—not only in the students’ lives but also in mine—I learned a lot about sacrifice with them and about perseverance.
“Three years later, on the day of the creation of the Angola Stake, I had the great blessing of meeting with several of these students (an adult and the rest—young people) and how wonderful it was to hear them say that they had never failed school again, they were so excited. My heartbeat fired and I remember looking up and saying in silence: ‘Thank you Father in Heaven’.
“Upon hearing one of the adult sisters that attended the class say that because of these classes she was able to start a small business that has provided for her family’s needs, we embraced each other, and we began to weep with gratitude. My husband and the people around me were perplexed to see this. My husband realized what was happening.
“With this experience, what is found in Doctrine and Covenants 81:5 and 84:106 gained tremendous weight in my personal and spiritual growth. I became a humbler person and had the purpose of leaving a legacy of greater service to my neighbor.”
Thanks to this experience, Sister Ivone continues to contribute in training and developing others. She went over and beyond what was being asked and used her time and talents to help others at Church and in her community. She indeed ministered to those in need and was blessed far beyond her expectations for that.

I helped take care of Grandma Pinegar a few Sundays ago. Grandma is 99 and very frail. She is blind and quite deaf, and recently it has become difficult for her to talk in more than a whisper. Her little body is so bent over that there is not much room in her lungs for air.
I leaned close to her and asked, “Grandma, tell me how the gospel has blessed your life.” She whispered softly and shared her gratitude for the promptings and guidance she had received from the Holy Ghost.
When her second child, James, was 18 months old, he and his older brother were playing outside and she was watching them from the window. Suddenly she couldn’t see him and ran from the house, calling and searching frantically. There was water in the irrigation ditch that shouldn’t have been there, and she searched along the edge of the ditch and could see nothing. She ran for the hired hands to come and help and ran back to where the ditch went through a long culvert. Running to the other end of the culvert, she saw two little shoes, and pulled on them. When she had her son in her arms, she was prompted to clasp her hands together and place them under his stomach and carry him in front of her in this way, using her knee to hold some of his weight. She ran toward the road, crying for help. The promptings she received to carry him in such an unnatural manner saved his life.

Elder Taiichi Aoba teaches youth to center their clay on a potter’s wheel.

I remember my Laurel teacher saying recently, “If you want to love someone, do something for him.” As she said that I was so touched by the Spirit that I knew it had to be true. I’d been struggling with a relative for quite a while, so I decided to experiment with this idea on her.

Well, to make a long story short, I now consider my sister my very best friend. The love I feel for her is inexpressible. I gave her all I could give, and the Lord, in turn, gave me the strength to forgive and the spirit to love.
Sharlene Weatherman, 18Roy, Utah

I appreciated the article by Elder Christofferson in the June 2006 issue of the New Era (“A Sense of the Sacred”). My husband and I are serving a mission in Accra, Ghana, and each Sunday we visit a different ward. We have been impressed that the men and boys come to Sunday meetings dressed in white shirts and ties, and the women and girls come in clean, modest dresses. It is obvious that their clothing is the best they have. Likewise, when they come to the temple, they are dressed in their Sunday best. We marvel at their humility and their desire to show respect to our Father in Heaven by dressing appropriately when they enter His holy house—whether it is the meetinghouse or the temple.Sister Carolyn W., Ghana

I certainly don’t want to compare myself to the great prophet Jonah. But I had an experience in my life where I was greatly rewarded for doing something that, although very difficult, was what the Lord wanted.
As a young man, I prepared to go on a mission. Every returned missionary I had heard said it was the best two years of his life. I interpreted this to mean that a mission was easy and glamorous. In a vain and arrogant manner, I figured the Lord would want someone of my ability and talent to open up China or Russia or India. At the very least, he would want me to serve in Japan or Europe.
I sent in my papers and eagerly awaited the moment when my call arrived in the mail. When it finally did, my mother and I opened the letter. In big words at the top of the page, it said, “You are hereby called to the Colorado Denver Mission.”
My heart sank. I thought, “How could this be? How could the Lord do this to me?” And to add insult to injury, they included a map of the mission. It included small towns in eastern Utah and parts of Wyoming.
I thought, “This is not exotic. This is embarrassing.”
I looked at my mom and said, “Mom, I’m not going to Colorado on my mission.”
She looked at me and said, “Let’s talk to your father when he gets home.”
When my father got home, I said to him, “Dad, I don’t want to go to Colorado.”
I thought he would say something like, “I never took you for a quitter. I thought when you started something, you would finish it.”
Instead, he said, “Son, I’ll support you in whatever you want to do. If you want to go to Colorado, I’m behind you. If you don’t want to go, I’m also behind you. But before you make that decision, I think you should fast and pray to see what the Lord wants you to do.”
We fasted and prayed until the next evening. When we finished the fast, we knelt and prayed. In the end the Lord gave me a witness that Colorado was where I was called and where I should serve. As we ended the fast, I said to my dad, “I guess Laramie won’t be so bad after all.”
He looked at me and said, “Yes, it will.”
I found that a mission was not easy. In fact, it was the most difficult thing I had ever done. Working and living 16 hours a day for the Lord wasn’t easy. I found a mission was not glamorous. People laughed and scoffed at us, dogs bit us, and doors slammed in our face. But as everyone who applies himself on a mission knows, it is the most rewarding experience of one’s life. The Lord blessed me beyond my ability to receive it, and I felt an inner peace and satisfaction I had never felt before.

The disrespect I felt for my teacher all changed when I was doing Personal Progress—Individual Worth. I read a scripture I had read before, but it struck me this time as an instruction for developing the respect my teacher deserved: “Remember the worth of souls is great in the sight of God” (D&C 18:10).
Hannah H., 19, Utah, USA

When I served as a mission president, I reminded the missionaries of this principle often, since many people dressed immodestly. “Look at the eyes,” I told the missionaries. “See the person. Don’t just see a body. See a child of God.”

“The man who had prepared the plaster for the outside walls [of the Kirtland Temple] had asked the Saints to contribute their broken glass and chinaware to be crushed and mixed with the plaster. China closets and cupboards were almost left empty in an effort to get enough material containing the tiny articles of china and glass that glistened in the sunshine as if the walls were set with countless precious stones” (E. Cecil McGavin, Improvement Era, Oct. 1940, p. 595).

After the Prophet Joseph Smith and Oliver Cowdery received the Aaronic Priesthood, the Prophet Joseph recorded that John the Baptist told them:
This Aaronic Priesthood had not the power of laying on hands for the gift of the Holy Ghost, but that this should be conferred on us hereafter.
[Oliver Cowdery and I] now became anxious to have that promise realized … , that provided we continued faithful, we should also have the Melchizedek Priesthood, which holds the authority of the laying on of hands for the gift of the Holy Ghost. We had for some time made this matter a subject of humble prayer.
The exact date and place where Joseph Smith and Oliver Cowdery received the Melchizedek Priesthood is unknown. What is known is that Peter, James, and John, Apostles of Jesus Christ, conferred upon the Prophet Joseph Smith and Oliver Cowdery the keys and authority of the Melchizedek Priesthood. They now had the power and authority necessary to organize The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, which the Lord commanded them to do on April 6, 1830.

Several years earlier, at the death of our infant son, I had blamed myself for the loss. An understanding doctor wisely counseled that this was common, but nonetheless wrong. A grieving person naturally searches for something he might have done to prevent tragedy. “Don’t give in to the temptation to blame yourself,” he advised.
Following the Church court, I found myself falling into this trap again. Gradually I realized I could neither control nor take responsibility for my husband’s actions. I began to concentrate on the things I could control and change in myself.

Twenty-four years ago, our tiny newborn son struggled for his life in the intensive care unit of a hospital. His lungs were not fully developed because of his premature birth, and he desperately fought for each breath of air. He was so small but with so much will to live. As young and inexperienced parents, my courageous and ever faithful wife, Jan, and I prayed that the Lord’s hand would reach out and somehow help our baby boy continue to breathe. As I put my trembling hand through the small opening into the isolette, I felt so inadequate and powerless. I took hold of the tiny but perfect hand of our newborn son, and there was a powerful spiritual connection never to be forgotten. Two fingers from each of my hands covered his tiny head as I administered to him.

Our desire for him was pure, but we knew that his earthly experience rested in the Lord’s hands and not in ours or in the medical team who cared for him. I then humbly realized that my quivering hands held power and authority well beyond my own. My fingers on his head symbolized the placing of God’s hands and power upon our son. Following that blessing, in a moment of emotional peace, my eternal companion and I looked at each other across the isolette, feeling the spirit of renewed hope and comfort born of faith in the Lord Jesus Christ and in the personal effect of His Atonement. It was a powerful witness of His love for an infant son who had just left His presence. We were then better prepared to accept His will for our son. We truly felt we had placed our hands in the hands of the Savior. It was as if the Savior’s own hands provided the critical respiratory aid, allowing our son to breathe and gain sustenance. With each breath and with each incremental bit of progress, we expressed prayerful thanks. Today our healthy son and his indebted parents continue to be so grateful for the Savior’s willing hands.

“At one tournament I met a soccer player from another state who wanted to know why I wouldn’t play on Sunday,” Jodi said. “That opened the way for me to tell him about the gospel. When he went home, we began writing letters to each other. I sent him a Book of Mormon. That was a little frightening for me. I didn’t know how he would react. But he read it and wanted to know more. So I sent him some Church pamphlets, and after a while he decided to be baptized.

This reminds me of the experience that I had with a good member named Sister Edna who was in my Gazcue ward. She was a person who was always smiling and full of enthusiasm for life.

One day she had an accident while riding her bike and, to her surprise, she unexpectedly slipped off the bike bringing her body silently to the ground. The fall was a strong blow to her body and they rushed her to the hospital. There, they discovered that the fall had caused extreme damage to her liver and other vital organs, and it was necessary for her to go into surgery. All the families and the members in the ward were worried about our dear Sister Edna.

It was just Sister Edna and her husband in their home at this time because her daughter was serving a mission in another country and her son had just joined the U.S. Navy.

As the days passed, the general infection from the accident caused the deterioration of her health and she went from one hospital to another for various surgeries. The sisters of the Relief Society would go to the hospital every day to bring her comfort and assist in her care. When the doctors had to forbid visits because of her delicate condition, the Relief Society sisters waited at the door, praying and waiting for encouraging news. Every day we prayed and fasted to invoke the powers of heaven.

Later, thanks to prayers and medical interventions, Sister Edna made a miraculous recovery.

13-year-old Mereoni attended with her sister, Karis, and her grandmother Tapu Pihigia.
“When I walked up to the front of the temple, I felt as if all my troubles and cares disappeared,” Mereoni said. “I felt peace.”
Her grandmother added, “My granddaughters have not stopped talking about the trip since they have returned home. We will never forget this trip to the temple.”

My father looked up laughing.
“I’d forgotten about that. She didn’t get angry very often but when she did. … When we were first married, I told her that the mashed potatoes she’d made were burnt. She picked up the bowl and walked over to me. She smiled and opened my shirt front and dumped the whole mess in. ‘You don’t have to eat them,’ she said.”

Priya, a nonmember who attended FSY in Trinidad said “I came to FSY, and it has shown me that Jesus truly is our Savior. It has guided me down a path that I know will help me in my future.”

Little brothers can be such a bother, Erin thought as she knelt to pick up her scattered postcard collection. She knew how much her little brother, Evan, loved to look at all the beautiful postcards. She didn’t mind showing them to him, but she didn’t like it one bit when he went into her room and helped himself.

“What do I need a little brother for, anyway?” she said aloud as she gathered the postcards. If only she could lock him out of her room forever!

Her scowl softened as she caught sight of her most treasured postcard. She picked it up and looked at the picture of the Seattle Temple, remembering the day she got to go inside.

As she finished gathering her postcards, she suddenly realized that she didn’t feel angry anymore. Just then her mother called her into the kitchen. “I need you to do me a big favor,” her mother said. “I made these hot muffins, and I thought that it would be nice to take some to Sister Taber. She’s home from the hospital after having knee surgery, and I know that she’d enjoy them. Would you like to take Evan for a walk over to her house?”

“Sure!” Sister Taber had been her favorite Primary teacher. She wished she could go alone, because her little brother always slowed her down, but she knew how much he loved to go for walks.

“Please try to hurry, dear,” Mom said. “Dad will be home soon, and dinner is almost ready. Do you want me to draw a map for you?”

“No thanks,” Erin replied with confidence. “I’m sure I can find it just fine.” She took the basket of warm muffins in one hand and her brother’s hand in the other. As soon as they reached the sidewalk, Evan wanted to stop and look at some leaves, but Erin gently tugged on his arm to urge him forward. “This is going to take forever with him along,” she mumbled to herself.

They reached the first corner and carefully crossed the street. Then Evan saw some bright yellow dandelions growing in the corner of a yard. “Look at the pretty yellow flowers!” he said, heading toward them.

“I’m sorry,” Erin said, “but we don’t have time to stop and pick dandelions. Mom told us to hurry, remember?” She grabbed Evan’s hand again, and kept walking. When they reached the next corner, they turned right. Erin was sure she’d recognize Sister Taber’s house when she saw it.

As they passed the next house, Erin felt Evan stop. He jumped up and down, yelling, “That’s just like ours!”

Erin looked where he was pointing and saw a red, white, and blue basketball backboard identical to the one Dad had put on their own garage. She and Mom loved to watch Evan and Dad play basketball. Evan always made everyone laugh.

But this wasn’t the time to be distracted. “Come on now, Evan,” Erin said impatiently, taking his hand and starting back down the sidewalk.

They crossed the street and headed for the cul-de-sac where Sister Taber lived. They were almost there when Evan began tugging at Erin’s arm and shouting, “Quack, quack, quack, quack!”

She turned around and saw him standing next to a mailbox with a painted duck on it. “Evan Michael, please come with me!” Erin scolded. “We can’t stop and look at everything!” I wish I hadn’t had to bring him along, she thought.

As they entered the cul-de-sac, Erin felt a little unsure about which house belonged to Sister Taber. She looked at each one carefully, then recognized the flower bed in front of one of the houses. This is it, she thought. This is where we had our last Primary achievement activity. She and Evan went up to the door and she let him ring the doorbell.

Sister Taber’s daughter answered the door. She thanked Erin and Evan for the muffins and told her that her mother would really appreciate them.

Erin felt good inside. Then, as she and Evan headed home, she realized that she wasn’t sure how to get there. They stood at the corner leading out of the cul-de-sac while Erin looked left and right, trying to decide which way to go. She began to feel a little panicky until she remembered something her mother had told her many times: “If you ever feel lonely or afraid, tell Heavenly Father your troubles. He always hears your prayers and will help you.”

Erin quickly and quietly asked Heavenly Father to help them find their way home again. Once more she looked up and down the street. Suddenly she spotted the duck mailbox that Evan had stopped to see. Holding her brother’s hand tightly, she left the cul-de-sac. After they crossed the street, she saw the red, white, and blue basketball backboard. We turn left at the next corner, she said to herself.

When they turned the corner, Erin saw the dandelions that Evan had wanted to pick. She realized that rather than feeling angry with him, she was grateful that he had noticed all the things that were helping them find their way back.

When they reached home, she took him inside and told her mother what had happened. Then she bent down, gave her little brother a big hug, and whispered in his ear, “Would you like to come and look at my postcard collection?”

Twelve years later, after constant growth, the Korean Saints were blessed with a long-awaited temple. On December 14, 1985, President Gordon B. Hinckley (1910–2008), then the First Counselor in the First Presidency, dedicated the Seoul Korea Temple. This temple was especially meaningful for President Hinckley, who had a special bond with the Korean Saints. He said, “The Korean people have suffered from a war of aggression, but they love peace and they are a kind people. I shed tears in Korea more than any other place in the world.”9 President Hinckley offered the dedicatory prayer, and many who attended were in tears. It was a cold winter day, but the warm Spirit of the Lord dwelt in the temple that day and touched everyone’s hearts.

In a talk given on October 19, 1896, Brother Woodruff said:
“Joseph Smith continued visiting myself and others up to a certain time, and then it stopped. The last time I saw him was in heaven. In the night vision I saw him at the door of the temple in heaven. He came to me and spoke to me. He said he could not stop to talk with me because he was in a hurry. … I met half a dozen brethren who had held positions on earth, and none of them could stop to talk with me because they were in a hurry. I was much astonished. By and by I saw the Prophet again and I got the privilege of asking him a question.
“‘Now,’ I said, ‘I want to know why you are in a hurry. I have been in a hurry all my life; but I expected my hurry would be over when I got into the kingdom of heaven, if I ever did.’
“Joseph said, ‘I will tell you, Brother Woodruff. Every dispensation that has had the priesthood on the earth and has gone to the celestial kingdom has had a certain amount of work to do to prepare to go to the earth with the Savior when he goes to reign on the earth. Each dispensation has had ample time to do this work. We have not. We are the last dispensation, and so much work has to be done, and we need to be in a hurry in order to accomplish it.’” (Discourses of Wilford Woodruff, pp. 288–89.)