Gospel Story Finder

Individuals who enter the Kinshasa Temple see an original painting entitled Congo Falls. It uniquely reminds temple-goers of the unwavering commitment required to anchor themselves to Jesus Christ and to follow the covenant path of our Heavenly Father’s plan. The waterfalls depicted in the painting call to mind a practice that was common more than a century ago among early converts to Christianity in Congo.

Before their conversion, they worshipped inanimate objects, believing that the items possessed supernatural powers. After conversion, many made a pilgrimage to one of the countless waterfalls along the Congo River, such as the Nzongo Falls. These converts threw their previously idolized objects into the waterfalls as a symbol to God and others that they had discarded their old traditions and accepted Jesus Christ. They intentionally did not throw their objects into calm, shallow waters; they threw them into the churning waters of a massive waterfall, where the items became unrecoverable. These actions were a token of a new but unwavering commitment to Jesus Christ.

Once, flying over the city, they ran low on fuel, and with no wind to carry them clear, they had to land in a densely populated residential area. They dropped a rope to the ground crew who pulled them down into a lady’s front yard, causing a traffic jam of interested spectators. But for the quick action of the chase crew, they would have landed on her roof!

Sadness does not come from nothing, nor does it come suddenly or by chance. A short while ago, I felt sad and could not find a reason. When I prayed, I realized the Holy Ghost was trying to warn me that I was not choosing the right. I decided to change my spiritual state. I began to set goals, pray more, and study the Book of Mormon.
Juliana Lazzarotti dos Neves Oliveira, 17,Santa Clara Branch, Coimbra Portugal District

The Savior carries the wife of Henry B. Eyring through her troubles.

Katrina Young of San Antonio, Texas, has a similar perspective: “I have a desire to belong, so I participate in lessons, accept callings, visit teach, offer to help clean the building, give rides to members in our ward, attend activities, and try to learn the name of a family or individual each week. I have found that I am the one who is served.”

Not long ago, the wife of one of our grandsons was struggling spiritually. I will call her “Jill.” Despite fasting, prayer, and priesthood blessings, Jill’s father was dying. She was gripped with fear that she would lose both her dad and her testimony.
Late one evening, my wife, Sister Wendy Nelson, told me of Jill’s situation. The next morning Wendy felt impressed to share with Jill that my response to her spiritual wrestle was one word! The word was myopic.
Jill later admitted to Wendy that initially she was devastated by my response. She said, “I was hoping for Grandfather to promise me a miracle for my dad. I kept wondering why the word myopic was the one he felt compelled to say.”
After Jill’s father passed on, the word myopic kept coming to her mind. She opened her heart to understand even more deeply that myopic meant “nearsighted.” And her thinking began to shift. Jill then said, “Myopic caused me to stop, think, and heal. That word now fills me with peace. It reminds me to expand my perspective and seek the eternal. It reminds me that there is a divine plan and that my dad still lives and loves and looks out for me. Myopic has led me to God.”
I am very proud of our precious granddaughter-in-law. During this heart-wrenching time in her life, dear Jill is learning to embrace God’s will for her dad, with an eternal perspective for her own life. By choosing to let God prevail, she is finding peace.

Shaking Sister Turner’s hand was like handling a delicate antique. [Names have been changed.] We had come as we did every Sunday.
“My, your hands are like ice!” she exclaimed for the 10th time in 10 visits. I smiled as I set the sacrament bread and water on the bedside table.
“It’s a cold walk from the church to here,” I explained, sweeping snow off my white shirt for effect.
“Well, where’s your jacket then?” came the quavery accusation, to which I could only shrug as usual. The slow rasp of some medical machine was the only sound as my companion priest opened the Doctrine and Covenants to find the sacrament prayers (see D&C 20:77, 79).
I thought back to when, as a new priest, I had been assigned “home sacrament.” With some embarrassment, I had had to ask who these homebound members were and where they lived. How long had I lived in this ward? Twelve years without even meeting these members?
After blessing and passing the bread, my companion handed me the open scriptures. Clearing my throat, I read the prayer with what I hoped was a voice powerful enough to match the furrowed concentration on Sister Turner’s face.
Watching Sister Turner struggle to raise the cup of water to her lips, I ached in sympathy. How did this fragile sister do it? How could she stay so pleasant after suffering immobilizing pain as long as she had? My thoughts turned to the others we would be visiting. Each of them, despite suffering terribly from the effects of sickness or old age, exemplified endurance, compassion, and love. Each of them had a treasure trove of stories, studded with gems of wisdom. But most of them, as the beeping machines attested, had little time left. Why hadn’t I discovered these treasured brothers and sisters long ago?
As we rose to leave, Sister Turner predictably joked, “You have to be 102 to get this sort of service.” We chuckled and wished her a fond “See you next week,” with a silent “we hope.” We stepped out into the snow with the fervent thank-you from Sister Turner’s daughter still in our ears. We sometimes doubted whether or not Sister Turner remembered us, but we never doubted that she sincerely appreciated our visits.
We knocked at another door. “Come in, boys! I was hoping you would come today!”
I smiled again as I shook the snow out of my hair. “Sister Holt! It’s a pleasure to see you!” And it was.

“Hey Bruce, do you think there’s ever an end to those stars?” Bob had asked. And Bruce had felt it then, as surely as he knew it again this evening, that the stars stretched on forever.
“Can’t you imagine a wall out there, Bruce? Can’t you feel it? You know, all of a sudden you reach the end of the space, and then there’s this big giant wall. Bam! That’s it. The big end.” And they had laughed.
But Bruce had found that he had to stop laughing that night. The waters licked softly at the base of the boat; a peeper sounded from the shore. There was nothing but blackness in the middle of the lake, all that black and silent water. Bruce shook his head vigorously, shutting his eyes, sitting up so suddenly that he hurt the bones in his back on the seat of the boat.
“No way, Bobby,” Bruce said, still shaking his head. “I just can’t handle that. It’s like something cracks—snap!—in my head. You know what I mean? I just can’t handle a wall in space. I just can’t handle it ending. Things have got to go on. Don’t you think, Bobby?” But it was more feeling than thinking, he knew.

In 1982, when we arrived in Dubai, no Latter-day Saint services were being held. We found three Latter-day Saints there: a sister from the United States and two Filipino brethren. Sacrament meetings began in our living room. Our children used to say that for a year they didn’t go to church—church came to us!
Within eighteen months, however, new move-ins helped our branch membership grow to twenty-four; and by 1985, the small branch had grown to thirty-six. We rent space in the American school for meetings. Our branch offers the full program of the Church for our age groups, including early morning seminary.

Joseph Smith cheerfully practiced serving others in the Lord’s way. James Leach and his brother-in-law, after looking for work in Nauvoo many days without success, determined to ask the Prophet for help. James recalled:
“I said, ‘Mr. Smith, if you please, have you any employment you could give us both, so we can get some provisions?’ He viewed us with a cheerful countenance, and with such a feeling of kindness, said, ‘Well, boys, what can you do? … Can you make a ditch?’ I replied we would do the best we could at it.
“… When it was finished I went and told him it was done. He came and looked at it and said, ‘… If I had done it myself it could not have been done better. Now come with me.’ He led the way back to his store and told us to pick the best ham or piece of pork for ourselves. Being rather bashful, I said we would rather he would give us some. So he picked two of the largest and best pieces of meat and a sack of flour for each of us, and asked us if that would do. We told him we would be willing to do more work for it, but he said, ‘If you are satisfied, boys, I am.’
“We thanked him kindly and went on our way home rejoicing in the kindheartedness of the Prophet of our God.”2

Deacons Mason Krstic and Elliot Stobbs also needed support from their quorum adviser. Elliot recalls, “Our Young Men leaders would tell us how important it was to carry out our Duty to God, and at first I didn’t understand why. But by the end of the year I had had so many great experiences that I knew why they encouraged us to do this.”

Last year we had a serious problem regarding a great many obscene phone calls. I thought the caller would lose interest, but he didn’t. Upon inquiring around the neighborhood I learned that a number of other women were receiving the same calls. I sleuthed out the situation and discovered that it was a teenage boy up the street. I called him by name on the phone, telling him that was the last call he was going to make. By this time, of course, my feelings against this person were running very high. We had taken to calling him “The Jerk,” and in my mind he was clearly and simply one of the nuisances like mosquitoes that had no right to exist but did anyway.
After a long debate with myself, I went to talk to his mother. It was obvious that he needed help, and it would not be possible for him to get it unless his parents understood. I told the boy’s mother the whole story. She was surprised but took it very well and was very grateful to me for coming to her.
“I’ve been concerned about Jack for a long time,” she said. “He’s under such tremendous pressure from his father. He’s not allowed to have even a minute of free time, it seems. On the weekends he has these long, long lists of chores to do, and they’re never quite done well enough. ‘You missed a spot in the hedge, Jack,’ his father says, or ‘You didn’t get all the weeds.’ It seems like his responsibilities never end. Last weekend his father made him type a letter over four times, finding something new wrong each time. If Jack isn’t home when his dad comes in, he’ll say, ‘Where’s Jack? Is he doing his homework?’ And if he’s out playing in the neighborhood, he’ll go whistle for him. Sometimes when Jack will come in he’ll ask, ‘Is Dad here?’ and I know he’s really asking, ‘Am I going to have to do something?’ If his dad isn’t here, he’ll relax a little bit. But it doesn’t last. Jack has developed a twitch. And I know all this pressure has something to do with the phone calls.”
Again the tremor. Again the crack in the first perception, allowing me to see inside. I knew Jack’s secret, at least a little bit about the ache inside that moved him to do sad, sad things. And I wanted to help him, encourage him, instead of slapping him like a mosquito. Maybe he deserved to live after all.

President Pace shared how when he was 11, his mom asked if he knew for himself that the gospel is true. He decided to read the Book of Mormon and pray to know. As he did, he felt comfort and peace from the Holy Ghost. This helped him gain his own testimony.

When floods hit Central America, meetinghouses were opened to provide temporary shelter for evacuees. In areas where vehicles couldn’t go, Church members strapped supplies upon their backs and walked over flooded streams and treacherous terrain to bring relief to those in distress.

I was born with a disease called jaundice. Something went wrong during the treatment of this disease, so I partially lost my hearing and got a type of Cerebral Palsy that makes it difficult for me to make certain body movements and have balance.

Because of COVID-19, it wasn’t safe to travel. So Elder Gary E. Stevenson and his wife, Lesa, had a video conference with 600 missionaries in Australia.
Elder Stevenson talked to the missionaries about helping families learn about Jesus Christ and prepare to go to the temple.
They could see the missionaries on video screens.
“I could read their names and speak to them,” Elder Stevenson said. “And they could wave back to me.”
“One day [we] will look back … to the challenging times … to see them overshadowed by choice blessings.”*

For many years we have been conducting a home Relief Society once a week in our small town in Spain. Since the majority who attend are women of other faiths, at first we avoided teaching the doctrinal lessons in the Relief Society manuals. But gradually we began including Spiritual Living lessons.
One morning I prayerfully searched for a topic that would inspire the women. “What should the women hear this week, Father?” I prayed.
Then I came across a lesson on prayer and fasting. I felt inspired that this one should be given, but I also wondered how the idea of fasting would come across to those who were not members of the Church. I decided to follow the inspiration, having learned long ago not to question the promptings of the Spirit.
The class went well, and many mistaken ideas and doubts were cleared up. The women began to understand that fasting, used together with prayer, is a powerful tool anyone can use. As I was leaving, a woman who rarely attended our meetings came up to me and asked, “Can I fast, too?”
“Why of course you can, Manoli,” I replied. “Anyone can fast, Heavenly Father makes no distinctions among his children.”
Manoli was visibly upset as she continued. “You see, my mother has been in a mental hospital for two years. She has become worse lately and doesn’t even recognize me or my sister. We feel so helpless going to see her. It hurts me so much to see her like that.”
I told Manoli I would begin a fast with her. We started with a prayer. As we got up from our knees, I explained that Heavenly Father always answers prayers and fasting, but in his time and in his way.
The next day Manoli’s sister told Manoli that the hospital staff had stopped giving their mother her regular sedatives because her condition had markedly improved. She was free from the agony she had experienced previously and was peacefully lying in bed. She died the following day, but Manoli was comforted by the assurance that her mother was still enjoying peace and freedom from pain.
I learned a great deal from this experience. I know that Heavenly Father had Manoli in mind when he inspired me to give a lesson that prepared two sisters for their mother’s death.

Barbara Jean Rushton of Tacoma, Washington, was chosen to participate in the famous “America’s Youth in Concert.” New York City, Washington D.C., and capitol cities of Europe made up the concert schedule. Barbara is the only girl in a family of eight, with five brothers filling or having filled missions. She was graduated from seminary in June.

We are grateful to our Heavenly Father for the blessings of attending self-reliance group meetings.
Before I attended the self-reliance group meetings, I was into a small-scale business and I could not separate my capital from the profit. I usually added up everything together, making it impossible to determine if there had been any profit. During the self-reliance group meetings, I was able to learn the principle of budgeting which has helped me to put my costs in order as I now know what to buy first and what to forgo, i.e., my needs, versus my wants, as well as the important principle of tithing.
The principles I learned in self-reliance have been helpful in my workplace in so many ways, such as helping me know how to manage my salary through effective budgeting as I try to spend wisely, organize myself by creating a balance in my life, as well as helping me to be spiritually and financially self-reliant.
Currently, I am gainfully employed through a referral I got from the office of the Welfare and Self-Reliance Services in Benin City.
I testify that the Church is true, and I know that self-reliance will bless us as we participate in any of the group meetings because it has really blessed my life.

I just finished reading your January 1991 issue. I’m 12, and it’s probably the first time I’ve really sat down and read it cover to cover. I found two very interesting articles, “Friends” and “Secret Granddaughters.” My mom is going to request that we use the idea from “Secret Granddaughters” in Young Women. I think it would be a good experience for the young women and older sisters in our ward.
Lisa NicholsonEugene, Oregon