Gospel Story Finder

When I was younger than most of you, growing up in a little town in Idaho, I thought the great moment of my life would be that I would be a successful baseball player for the New York Yankees. We would be in the World Series; the games would be three and three. Now, the seventh game—the deciding game—the ninth inning, score tied. And guess who would get up to bat? The pitcher would put the ball in just where I would like it, and I would knock it out of Yankee Stadium. The ball would become lost in the parking lot. I would be the hero of the World Series. I thought that would be the great moment of my life. But I want you to know that that isn’t so. Not that the World Series happened; however, I found the moment.
A few years ago I sat in a little white room in the Los Angeles Temple—a little, plain, simple room with no fancy adornments on the wall. My wife was there by my side. One son and his wife were there along with our daughter and her new husband. Our other son was kneeling at the altar holding the hand of the young lady he was about to marry. As I looked around the room, I thought, “David, you had your priorities out of order. Some athletic event or being the hero of some worldly event isn’t the great moment of your life.” I knew the great moment of my life was there, then, because all I had that was really important—remember, really important—was in that room. Some bishops and stake presidents somewhere had found all of my family worthy to be in that room. It is not the number of cars you own, or the number of white-faced cattle you might have in the hills, or the size of your bank account, but the eternal values that count. You remember the Lord said something about moth and rust getting through to our worldly possessions (see Matthew 6:20). I knew that the greatest moment in my life was having all of our family in that room in the Los Angeles Temple. Moments, reflection, blessings—these are the great moments of our lives.

“So, Christopher, what did you do in Primary today?” Dad asked after church.
“We talked about being honest,” Christopher answered. “And we worked on the Articles of Faith. I have all but the thirteenth memorized.”
“Good for you!” Dad said. “Mom and I are really pleased that you’re learning them.” He looked at Sarah. “What did you do today, honey?”
“We ate crackers, and we sang songs, and I colored this picture for you.”
“It’s beautiful, Sarah. Thank you.” Dad pulled his keys out of his pocket, unlocked the car, and opened the door. “Get yourselves strapped in. Mom will be here soon.”
“Why do I have to wear a seat belt?” Christopher asked as he and Sarah buckled up.
Before Dad could answer, Sarah added, “Why do I have to sit in a car seat? I’m not a baby.”
Dad smiled. “There are two reasons. First, we use seat belts and car seats because they will protect us if we are in an accident. Second, we do it because it’s the law and we obey the law.”
“I know lots of people who don’t wear seat belts,” Christopher protested.
“Whether to wear a seat belt or not is each person’s own choice, but they have to live with the consequences,” Dad explained. “That’s part of Heavenly Father’s plan.”
“Oh, Dad,” Christopher laughed. “Heavenly Father doesn’t care about seat belts.”
“Or car seats,” Sarah chimed in.
“You don’t think so?” Dad asked. “Christopher, let me hear you say the twelfth article of faith.”
“‘We believe in being subject to kings, presidents, rulers, and magistrates, in obeying, honoring, and sustaining the law.’”
“Very good. Now, what does it mean?”
“It means that we believe it’s OK to have a president or a king or something like that—right?”
“That’s part of it,” Dad said, “but it also means that we believe in obeying the laws set by the president or king or whoever is in the government. And I believe that that applies to laws about seat belts and car seats.”
Just then Mom came. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said. “We can go now.”
“Not until you fasten your seat belt,” Sarah told her.
“It’s the law, you know,” Christopher added, “and we believe in obeying the law.”

I did not fully prepare him; I surprised him, and maybe I hurt him. I could not bring myself to say it so bluntly. So I explained, “I was a new member when Dad and I met and fell in love. I had heard an interfaith marriage could be hard, but no one explained it. I had not known any active, part-member families; maybe that should have been a warning to me? Anyhow, I just thought telling people to marry in the Church was prejudice. No one told me Dad should know more about the Church and my hopes, and it never occurred to me that I would feel so lonely going to church without him. I also did not realize how I could upset him by going to church.
“You see, when you’re planning to marry, you think you are going to have everything you already have, plus everything the other has. There just is not time, energy, or room enough for everything, and sometimes one of you does not want everything the other has to offer. Compromises have to be made. It’s not easy to compromise your beliefs and way of life.
“Anyhow, after a lot of experiments, Dad and I finally came to an adjustment. As the saying goes, ‘When life hands you a lemon, add the sweetener of love and make lemonade.’”
“Yes, Dad even went so far as to let you three go to church with me—after I was reactivated. Some nonmember dads would not be so generous. You have a very fine father.”

That’s what I was able to do with a friend, someone whom I considered to be the most beautiful, confident, and intelligent young woman I knew. We’d been friends for years, but it wasn’t until high school that I discovered she had an eating disorder. One day during a psychology class, we had an entire lesson on eating disorders—why and how people become consumed by them. During this lesson my friend was unusually quiet and looked uncomfortable. That’s when I first began to suspect her “internal dispute,” as we later referred to it.
After that class, I began to notice that my friend’s normal behaviors were not so normal—things like her lack of appetite, her comments about how she looked fat, or the constant facade of perfection she was trying to keep up. I became really scared for her and decided to fast and pray for her—I didn’t know what else to do.
Eventually, the Spirit told me I needed to talk to her with great love. I did the best I could and fasted and prayed that I would know what to say to her. When I finally talked with her about my suspicion of an eating disorder, we both cried as she admitted to having one. She told me she knew she was struggling and didn’t know how to help herself—or if she even wanted to change. I was so surprised that she didn’t deny having an eating disorder. The Spirit was definitely with us during that conversation. With the assistance of parents and counselors, we found help for her. And through those efforts, she’s now healthy again.
Helping her rediscover her worth was one of the best things I’ve ever had the opportunity to do. I knew she has great worth. She is an extremely special person—she just forgot how much worth she has. I wanted her to see herself the way Christ sees her, and along the way she showed me that I needed to do the same for myself.

When our family was younger we were living in Lubbock Texas. At that time in our lives, it seemed to me that the Spirit in our home was not what it should be. It was my conclusion that the problem was that the children were not being sufficiently obedient. I determined that they needed a lesson on respect for their father and for obedience so that we would have less contention and more of the Spirit. My first idea for this lesson was to have a talk with our home teacher and ask him to prepare a message to help the children. Now our home teacher was very faithful and visited every month. After considering it I decided that I would not speak to him about the issue but I would let the Lord inspire him and see what he came up with. When the time for the visit came we exchanged pleasantries and then our home teacher said we have a message today about the Spirit in the home. He then looked at me and said the primary responsibility for the Spirit in the home belongs to the Father. . It is a lesson that is still a work in progress. But it is a lesson I have always remembered. And I am able to work on it in part because a faithful brother was doing his home teaching. We do not know now all of the people that we have influenced or will influence because we faithfully do what we are supposed to do.

I was having a bad day. I had to go to my baseball game, but my tooth was loose and hurting. I had left part of my baseball uniform at home. And I was tired. I didn’t really want to play baseball that day. But I went to the game anyway because I had to give a hat back to one of my teammates.
I sat on the bleachers instead of joining my team. My coach noticed me sitting sadly on the bench. He encouraged me to come play because the team needed me. He showed me that he cared about me, just like Jesus noticed those who were sad and needed support.
Then, one of my teammates came and stood next to me. He smiled at me and asked me when I had gotten there. He was excited to see me and wanted me to come play. This teammate was also like Jesus because he cared about me. He showed me what a good friend does when someone is having a bad day. I was really glad my coach and teammate took the time to make me feel better, and I ended up playing in the baseball game!
I have a bookmark that says, “One act of kindness won’t change the world, but it may change one person’s world.” My coach and teammate changed my world that Saturday afternoon by choosing to be kind. I know it’s important to be like Jesus and show love and kindness to everyone we meet. Heavenly Father cares about each one of us and loves us. Each of us is important to Him, so He sends kind people to show us His love.

I served mass in the Catholic Church virtually every Sunday, from the age of nine to the age of twenty-one. In this experience, my religious experience, I was taught that any prophet that comes forth in modern times would be a false prophet. When I talk about doctrinal baggage, that was a problem for me. From day one, Joseph Smith could not be a prophet for me because I had been taught prophets in the latter days would be false prophets. With that kind of beginning, and then to be introduced to Joseph, how does one break through that barrier of doctrinal baggage and other baggage – and come to the knowledge of the truth?
Part of my doctrinal baggage was a belief system that declared a God incomprehensible to understand by definition and by logic. I had to work through that with the help of the true doctrines of Christ revealed through the Prophet Joseph Smith. I was introduced to the idea of a Restoration of the gospel through Latter-day Saint friends at Washington State University. My wife today and other young people were my first contacts with the teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith.
At the age of 21, a returned missionary seminary teacher invited me to attend the first early morning seminary class taught in the state of Washington. It was in Pullman, Washington where I was a senior at Washington State University and was taught by a young man named John Madsen. Brother Madsen was a fellow university student, yet he invited me to come to his class with the young high school students and learn about seminary. I thought that was a curious thing: seminary was where I would have gone to become a Catholic priest. What were these Mormon youth doing in seminary?
During the first few weeks into the course on Church History; who was the major character in Church History? You can’t go a day without learning about Joseph Smith. Some six weeks into the course, Brother Madsen played a tape that most of you have probably never heard. It was called “Profile of a Prophet” by Hugh B. Brown, a former member of the First Presidency of the Church. It was a Friday morning, and in that setting, I still remember the words “under girding and over arching” his testimony as they came into my soul about this prophet, Joseph Smith. I received a powerful witness that morning that Joseph Smith was indeed a prophet.
Joseph Smith was truly the latter-day prototype of “asking God.” When we ask the right questions, what can be the answers? I was yet to learn many glorious things. I had said thousands of prayers in my life, but I had not yet learned to pray.
I testify to you that many years ago after one year of investigation of this Church, none of my experiences of past years have been any more powerful, more revealing, more convincing than on a special Friday morning 42 years ago. After going back to my little apartment following the seminary class, having heard the words of President Brown concerning the “Profile of the Prophet”, after having been invited to read selected passages from the Book of Mormon; I was prepared to ask God in sincere prayer “if these things are not true”. As invited to do so by the prophet Moroni in Moroni 10:4-5, I asked with real intent, having faith in Christ that he would reveal it unto me by the power of the Holy Ghost. I desired to know the truth of all things. I asked the right questions, finally. Is Jesus the head of this Church? Is Joseph His prophet? Are there living prophets on the earth today and in this Church? Is this the true Church and should I join? Is the Book of Mormon indeed the word of God? What must I do?
As Moroni promised to the readers of the book, “by the power of the Holy Ghost, you may know the truth of all things.” In that moment of humble prayer, standing reverently and humbly in my little room in my apartment, from the top of my head to the soles of my feet there was burned out of my being every doubt, every concern, every worry, every question that I had about joining the Church. I was still a Catholic, I had never met a missionary, thus what does one do? I sought out those who taught that the Restoration of the gospel had occurred in these latter-days through the Prophet Joseph Smith.
Coming to know the Prophet Joseph Smith was the key to my conversion, along with reading the Book of Mormon, the keystone of our religion. I learned then, as I have continued to learn in these years as a convert, that Joseph Smith’s remarks about the Book of Mormon are true. “A man can get nearer to God by abiding by the precepts of this book than by any other book.”[13] I know that to be true, and that is my personal experience. I have been able to shed the doctrinal baggage that I learned as a youth and I now have been able to understand what God has revealed from the heavens. Through His prophets, through His Christ, through His records, I know these things are true. As I have learned the doctrine of Christ in the plain and precious teachings of the Book of Mormon, I have drawn nearer to God and I know that He lives and He has helped me walk the paths of life.

On the second Sunday in July, just three weeks after I had received the Aaronic Priesthood, Trixie and I were rushing to complete my paper route so I could attend priesthood meeting. At a full gallop, she ran into some fencing wire which had been carelessly left on the ground. Her feet tangled, and she fell down with me. Newspapers were scattered all over. Yet Trixie stood by until the milkman found me some time later lying unconscious on the ground. I woke up 18 hours later in a hospital in Evanston, Wyoming, the closest hospital to our home. My leg had been badly broken, which forced me to use a wheelchair and crutches for the next six months. Trixie willingly continued her work during the next months with my younger brother on her back. He and she filled my responsibility to my newspaper customers without a single complaint from either.

One day when I was walking home from a jog on the beach, I felt the heavy burden of my weaknesses and how they negatively impact my children. Although I try to repent of my sins as soon as I see them, I also see that my repentance does not mean that they are automatically healed from my errors in mothering.It was on that walk that I had an epiphany. I am like Sariah. My love for Heavenly Father and my children motivates me to seek God and repent. Heavenly Father sent me these children knowing full well that I am not perfect. He knew that I would bequeath many of my insecurities and pathologies to my own children. But our love for our children can motivate us to let go of our weaknesses, to turn to God for strength, and to add to the depth of our faith. Moroni tells us: "And if men [and women] come unto me I will show unto them their weakness, I give unto [them] weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all . . . that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them." (Ether 12:27).

I took the opportunity to hike two amazing hikes with my daughter this year. One of those hikes was Table Rock.

I had always heard of this place, but this was my first attempt at this hike. I never hurt so badly at a physical event in my life. My muscles started cramping about four miles in, with three miles left to go. I found out I don't like straight-off edges and slippery, rocky slopes. I found myself at times clinging to rocks, not able to move from the fear that was setting in. I thought to myself, "This is beautiful right here. I bet the top isn't that much grander." I asked a couple of people coming back down how it was, and their comment was they wanted to quit. But they were so glad they didn't, because it was amazing.

Then something inside starting saying, "What if this is symbolic of your journey to the celestial kingdom?" Am I willing to settle for something less? I kept praying for divine help to work through the pain and the crippling fear I was experiencing, and then came this life lesson. I had made the decision to do this hike. I did not want to fail. If I did not look ahead or behind and I only focused on what was in front of me at that very moment, keeping a prayer in my heart, I was able to move forward one step at a time until I pulled myself over the top of that rock.

The view was breathtaking, literally, and I could not hold back the tears of accomplishment. I could do hard things and was all the better for it.

When I was a young man serving my mission in the Southern Far East Mission, I was assigned to the Taiwan Zone. For over a year, I was the Branch President of the Hualien Branch on the East Coast of Taiwan. One day while riding through the rice paddies, I saw an old red brick traditional Chinese farmhouse set among some tall bamboo groves and with the mountains in the background. I said to myself, I've been here before. I thought and thought until it dawned on me that I had actually seen the exact same scenery in a dream when I was in elementary school. I didn't remember that dream, until I was actually seeing it first hand. I felt a tingling feeling within me and I knew that this was where the Lord wanted me to serve my mission. I learned the value of personal revelation.

May I share with you a letter from a young man which reflects the spirit of love and which helped to make firm a testimony of the gospel:
“Dear President Monson:
“Thank you for speaking to us at the National Scouting Jamboree held at Fort A. P. Hill, Virginia. On the tour that we took we saw a lot of famous places like Niagara Falls, the Statue of Liberty, the Liberty Bell, and many other places. The one I enjoyed the most was the Sacred Grove. Our parents had written us all letters to read by ourselves while in the grove. After I had finished the letter my parents had written to me, I knelt in prayer. I asked if the Church was really true and if Joseph Smith really did see a vision and is a true prophet of God, and also if President Hinckley is a true prophet of God. Right after I was done praying I felt this feeling of the Spirit that these things were indeed true. I had prayed before about the same things but never received such a powerful answer. There was no way that I could deny that this Church is true or that President Hinckley is a prophet of God.
“I feel so blessed to be a member of this Church. Thanks again for attending the Jamboree.
“Sincerely,
“Chad D. Olson
“P. S. We gave our tour guide and our bus driver a copy of the Book of Mormon with our testimonies in it. They are the greatest! I want to be a missionary.”
Like Joseph Smith, this young man had retired to a sacred grove and prayed for answers to questions phrased by his inquiring mind. Once more a prayer was answered and a confirmation of the truth was gained.

Observing and serving sometimes requires great effort. An inspired young woman named Alexandria noticed that her cousin Madison was unable to complete her own Personal Progress requirements because she suffered from severe autism. Alexandria rallied the young women in her ward, counseled with her leaders, and determined to do something for Maddy that she could not do herself. Each of the young women completed a portion of the Personal Progress activities and projects vicariously to enable Maddy to receive her own medallion.

These young women will progress well into roles of motherhood and Relief Society sisterhood because they are learning to first observe, then serve in charitable ways.

Apostles of all ages have had the character traits of courage and fearlessness. President Howard W. Hunter demonstrated his courage at this very pulpit. When faced by a terrorist threat to read a statement to which President Hunter could not agree, President Hunter calmly said, “No, I can’t read that statement”—even though his assailant stood next to him, threatening him with what he said was an explosive device. Would that each of us would have the courage to say no when we are faced with making choices that we know are not right.

The spring of 1898 was not a happy one for Sonora Louise Smart. Her mother died in March, leaving her and five younger brothers motherless. Sonora must have wondered how they would manage with no mother to look after them, but she had no need to worry.

Billy Smart, her father, believed that fatherhood was a lifelong responsibility, and he didn’t take that responsibility lightly. After his wife’s funeral, Billy quickly assumed the duties of both father and mother to his six children. Sonora in later years described him as a “good home person” and a “Golden Rule type of father.” Billy Smart was a strict man, but he was also a loving father, who kept his children happy and together.

Sonora loved her father and recognized and admired his sacrifices to raise her and her brothers by himself. Her love and appreciation for her father inspired a tribute to him that eventually became a national holiday to honor all fathers.

Eleven years after her mother’s death, Sonora (now married to John Bruce Dodd) sat in church listening to a Mother’s Day message. It was a wonderful talk about the role of mothers, but she noticed that the word father was never mentioned. When Sonora thought of the sacrifices that her father had made, she felt that it was only fair that fathers be recognized in a like manner. After the meeting she approached the speaker and asked, “Don’t you think that fathers should have a special day of recognition too?” With that question, Sonora Dodd began gaining support for her Father’s Day idea.

The following year Sonora, supported by local church leaders, submitted a petition to the Spokane City Council. As a result, the mayor declared that the third Sunday in June would be observed as Father’s Day. Following Spokane’s lead, the governor of Washington made it a state holiday, and June 19, 1910, it became the first official Father’s Day in history.

Even though a day to recognize fathers had been declared, Sonora Dodd did not feel that her work was done. That first Father’s Day she and her infant son, Jack, traveled by carriage to deliver gifts to shut-in fathers in Spokane.

Mrs. Dodd next sought support from national politicians for recognition of Father’s Day. She wanted a designated day when people across the nation would be reminded of a father’s proper role in the training of children, in the safeguarding of the marriage tie, and in the protection of womanhood and childhood. And while her efforts to honor fathers were successful and Father’s Day was celebrated in many areas in the United States, it wasn’t until 1972 that the holiday was established by a congressional resolution.

Sonora Dodd devoted her life to honoring fathers, and her strong feelings about fatherhood were passed to her son, Jack. In 1952 one of Sonora Dodd’s proudest moments came when Jack was named “Father of the Year.” Nineteen years later, an even prouder moment came. Sonora Louise Dodd, the woman known as “the mother of Father’s Day,” became the first and only woman ever to be named “Father of the Year!”

In 1978 Sonora died just a few weeks before the sixty-ninth Father’s Day. This June 15, on the seventy-sixth anniversary of Father’s Day, her name will seldom be mentioned in connection with the day. But that’s the way she wanted it. She never wanted acclaim for her contribution toward the establishment of Father’s Day. As she often said, “Father’s Day is to glorify fatherhood and not to glorify me.”

I was over in Samoa. I couldn’t sleep for worrying about the centipedes and so forth, so I got up. It was three o’clock in the morning. I went in the room where they had the radio. I started turning the dials, and all of a sudden I heard a voice say, “Station KSL, Salt Lake City. Songs of Harry Clark.” I sat there and listened to Harry Clark sing for fifteen minutes. Then I had to get up the next morning at three o’clock because I’d sent him a wire and I wanted to see if he got it. He did. He mentioned it over the air. So I listened to him sing for another fifteen minutes.

You know, the strange thing about it was, I was hearing him sing four hours before he actually sang. And you talk about miracles.

I think now and then of one of our classmates—very bright, good looking, faithful in the Church, and drenched with talent and ability. He married well and rose quickly to prominence. He began to compromise to please the world and please those around him. They flattered him into following after their ways, which were the ways of the world.

Sometimes it is so simple a thing as how you groom yourself or what you wear, such as a young woman teasing her hair endlessly to give the impression that it has not been combed or a young man dressing in slouchy clothes, wanting to be in style.

Somewhere in little things, my classmate’s grasp on the iron rod loosened a bit. His wife held on to the rod with one hand and on to him with the other. Finally, he slipped away from her and let go of the rod. Just as Lehi’s dream or vision predicted, he fell away into forbidden paths and was lost.

Bárdur’s dream of uniting his family began to come true in 1994 when word was received that the Icelandic temple ceremony was scheduled to be recorded in the Salt Lake Temple. In May of that year, Ólöf accompanied him to Salt Lake City, along with the small group who had been called to make the recording. While there, surrounded by their friends, Bárdur baptized his wife in the baptistry of the Salt Lake Tabernacle. They were sealed in the London Temple one year later.

After five days, the recording project was completed. Before the group who did the recording left the temple, they were allowed to view a small portion of the finished product. “Seeing just a part of the film and hearing those first few words in our own language touched me deep in my heart—it was something I will never forget,” said Gummi. “That increased our fervent desire to share this wonderful experience with all our brothers and sisters at home.”

It was now possible to think about organizing a trip to the temple for the members of the Reykjavík Branch. There was much preparing to be done—in addition to becoming worthy for temple recommends, branch members had to do genealogical research to find family names, and they had to save money for the trip. When whole families were planning to go, this became a sizable amount!

“There was a wonderful excitement, an extra amount of love and care shown among the members as they prepared for this experience,” recalls district president Ólafur Einarsson. “It brought a feeling of unity to the branch that we had not felt before.”

The necessary preparations were completed, and 38 members of the Reykjavík Branch—adults and children—journeyed to the London Temple in June 1995. For a week, they devoted themselves to the work of the Lord. “It was an unforgettable experience to see the joy on the faces of our group as the Spirit touched our hearts,” recalls one branch member. “The love and kindness we felt toward one another continued to grow as we shared the joy of our temple experiences.” They returned to their homes and families with strengthened testimonies and a renewed love of the gospel.

As the Church becomes stronger, the saga of the Saints in Iceland continues. In June 1996—still filled with memories of their experiences the previous year—some of the members of the Reykjavík Branch made a second trip to the London Temple. There, they once again were blessed to participate in holy ordinances as they renewed their covenants with the Lord—in the language of their Viking ancestors.

Koki, who is serving as a ward missionary, has seen rewards for being diligent off the court as well. He helped organize movie nights, campouts, and sports activities in order to interest two young men in his ward who hadn’t attended church for some time. “At first we’d have to go get them, or they wouldn’t come,” he says. “Now they come on their own. It took a little time and a lot of visits, but they’re coming regularly now.”

In 1951, our branch started building a chapel. It was the first chapel in Uruguay. There were less than 100 members who worked with my parents to construct the building. Most of the work was done by the members of the branch. I wanted to help, too.
Some members mixed cement. Some members dug holes, and some hammered nails. There were not many jobs for a five-year-old, so they gave me the job of straightening nails. I took a hammer and pounded old nails, trying to make them straight. I loved the clang of the hammer and the challenge of getting the bends out of the metal nails. Most of all, I loved having a job. My parents reminded me that the chapel could not be built without nails. I felt thrilled that I could serve with my family.
After three years, the chapel was finally finished. President David O. McKay came to Uruguay to dedicate it. I remember President McKay standing in the chapel, and I was thrilled that he could see the building I had helped create. He put the cornerstone in place and dedicated the building. His white hair made him look like he had come from heaven. He went around and shook everyone’s hand. When he came to me, he bent down especially to shake my hand. It was my first experience meeting a prophet, and when he spoke to me, I had a warm feeling in my heart. I felt glad I had helped build the chapel.