Gospel Story Finder

Arthur Patton died quickly. Others linger. Not long ago I held the thin hand of a youth as he approached the brink of eternity. “I know I am dying,” he said touchingly. “What follows death?” I turned to the scriptures and read to him: “Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was: and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it” (Eccl. 12:7). “There is a time appointed unto men that they shall rise from the dead; and there is a space between the time of death and the resurrection. … Now, concerning the state of the soul between death and the resurrection—Behold … the spirits of all men, as soon as they are departed from this mortal body, … are taken home to that God who gave them life” (Alma 40:9, 11).
To me, the lad said, “Thank you.” To my Heavenly Father I said silently, “Thank thee, O God, for truth.”

I was going to tell you the story of a friend who recently joined the Church. Rather than do that, I am going to ask him to tell it himself.
May I introduce Brother William Sheffield, who was baptized last November. Brother Sheffield, come and tell us of your experience.
William Sheffield: My dear brothers, following law school at Berkeley, I developed a successful private practice, particularly with international clients, including Indira Ghandi, former prime minister of India.
For years as a lawyer I had sought a judicial appointment. The day the governor of California called to say I had been appointed to the Superior Court was exhilarating and filled with visions of perhaps, someday, even the Supreme Court. But then, after less than two years as a judge and after just purchasing a new home, we decided to leave this nearly idyllic life. I had heard the Lord call me to the seminary. In response, my wife and I agreed that from then on we would always trust in the Lord, agreeing to be as leaves in a stream—two leaves in His stream, obeying His call, wanting more than anything else to follow Him.
But I had not always followed Christ. For many years, I was uncertain who He was or how I could get close to Him. Almost daily I silently asked myself: Is there a purpose to life? Why am I here? Where am I going? Is the meaning of life found in chasing after the most pleasurable way to get through it—or is there something more? My Christian friends told me all I had to do was “knock and the door will be opened unto you, seek and ye shall find.” (See Matt. 7:7.)
I began knocking. And as I knocked, the Lord answered. Like a seed growing within me, the gospel began taking over my life. I felt the Spirit calling me. I applied at the Yale Divinity School and was accepted. I resigned my judgeship, we rented out our home in southern California, and headed to New Haven, Connecticut. I was in the divinity school though not yet a member of any church.
Arriving in New Haven, we began searching for a home near the campus. However, the Lord had other ideas. Try as we did, we could not find the house we wanted near Yale. Looking back, I now know why. The Lord wanted us in a very special ward about forty miles south of Yale, the New Canaan First Ward.
Many miracles later we found ourselves attending our first Sunday sacrament meeting in this ward. We were received as though we were expected. We had not been inside the building longer than about five minutes when we were introduced to the bishop and his counselors and invited to a dinner party that week. But my attention was first captured by the radiant spirituality of particularly the male members. I wondered: How could they live their professional lives in the fastest fast lane of them all, New York City, yet continue to radiate such a deep spirituality? What was it that caused the tears to well up in their eyes as they testified that Christ lives and the Church is true? I needed to find out.
But I didn’t particularly want to be a Mormon, I told my friends. Since I was in the divinity school, I presumed the Lord wanted me in the ministry. What would I do after graduating with an advanced degree in religion if I became a Mormon? Yet I wanted to be the leaf in a stream that I had promised the Lord I would be when we left California.
During the entire time that I was working through, struggling with, and fighting the Joseph Smith story, my friends in the ward were patient, loving, and gentle. Every time I would tell the bishop that Joseph Smith’s story was more Disney than Disney, he would tell me, “Maybe so—but it’s all true.” Every time I would tell the bishop’s counselor, “Joseph’s story can’t be true,” he would say to me, “Yes, it is.” They genuinely loved me, and I them.
For months I examined, cross-examined, reflected, pondered, and prayed about the Joseph Smith story and the Book of Mormon. I found the book complex, sophisticated, doctrinally profound, and beautiful. The more I studied the text, the more profound and beautiful it became.
Much happened over the months. I told my friends and my wife, who was an inactive Mormon and who was beginning to feel some interest in the faith of her forebears, that I would not join the Church to please them, as much as I loved them. I would join only when I had a testimony—when I could say, as a direct witness, that I know Joseph Smith was a prophet, that the Book of Mormon is gospel, and the Latter-day Saint church is His church.
In September of last year, the Lord blessed me with that testimony. I now know, without any doubt or uncertainty, without even the ability to conjure up an imaginary doubt, that in the premortal life the Lord selected Joseph Smith as His prophet in the latter days, that the Book of Mormon was preserved by Christ Himself and delivered to Joseph Smith for translation, and that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is His church.
I owe a great debt to the New Canaan First Ward and to my dear wife. Their patience, their steadfast loyalty to the restored gospel, and their love for me all combined together to affect me eternally.
I still am uncertain as to what the Lord has in mind for me when I graduate from the Yale Divinity School, but I know this: my wife and I will always continue to serve God, in His church, as leaves in a stream.
I say this in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

The COVID-19 pandemic has been one of the many trials and challenges that God’s children have confronted throughout the history of the world. At the beginning of this year, my beloved family and I lived through some dark days. The pandemic and other causes brought death and pain to our family through the passing of some dear loved ones. Despite medical attention, fasting, and prayer, during the course of five weeks my brother Charly, my sister Susy, and my brother-in-law Jimmy crossed to the other side of the veil.

Yes, the solutions to our daily problems can always be found by daily seeking, by our faith, the influence of the Holy Ghost, who brings all things to our remembrance (see John 14:26). Let me illustrate this point by quoting from a letter written many years ago by a new convert at that time and addressed to President Harold B. Lee after he spoke at a stake conference: “As you spoke, an idea kept repeating itself in my mind: how life as a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is like crossing a swinging bridge suspended between the points of birth by baptism into the Church and death into eternal life over the turbulent stream of worldliness and sin. As one starts out onto the bridge, the nearness of his baptism lends a feeling of security and faith, but as one becomes aware of the stream below and the vast expanse to be crossed, the sense of security gives way to spasmodic twinges of doubt and fear, causing one to lose the rhythm of prayer, faith, and love, and work which makes one’s progress smooth. The mists of doubt and apathy arise and corrode one’s heart and mind, impeding one’s progress and restricting one’s response to the magnetic force of love which streams across the bridge. It is then one breaks step and falls to his knees and hangs on until the force of love restores faith and direction to the crossing” (in Conference Report, Apr. 1965, 15).

Bekah Swiss, a 19-year-old from Sandy, Utah, applied for a credit card specifically to build a good credit rating. To make sure she stays out of trouble, Bekah and her parents have set some guidelines. She says she will never make a credit card purchase unless she has the money in the bank to pay it off immediately. That way, she won’t pay a cent in interest. “The money some people are paying in interest could have been put in a savings account. Then it would earn them interest,” says Bekah.

I collected pencils for children who need them. My mom’s friend said that at one school in Africa, seven kids had to share one pencil! I set up boxes around my school, sent home flyers, and even called everyone on the school phone list to ask for donations! Now my school wants to do the “Pencil Project” every year. I feel so good inside knowing I helped kids be able to learn.
Colleen N., age 11, North Carolina, USA

Hugo’s Baby Brother by Hermann Moers Because his mother praised and spent so much time with little Sasha, Hugo did some stupid, dangerous things. But the young lion knew that his parents loved him, and when Sasha was in trouble, Hugo was glad that he had rescued his baby brother.

Some of these spunky women were instrumental in bringing education, culture, and women’s rights to their communities. At age fourteen Ida Frances Hunt Udall13 had progressed in her education to the point where she served as bookkeeper for the Beaver Woolen Mills. One of a family of eight children, she made the cloth she received in payment for her work into dresses for herself, her mother, and her five little sisters. When she was eighteen her father moved the family across the mountains to Joseph City, in Sevier County, where Ida taught in a log cabin school and continued to develop her musical abilities.

In 1877, when Ida was nineteen, her father and mother responded to the urge to move to Arizona. Ida drove one of the teams on the three-month journey and kept a daily record of that journey in pencil on a still extant stub of a receipt book.

There Ida spent several years teaching until David Udall went to Snowflake, Arizona, searching for a Spanish-speaking clerk for his store in St. Johns; he found much in common with Ida. After several months she became his wife. That was in 1882. In the years that followed Ida bore six children, a daughter and five sons, the rearing and caring of whom devolved mostly upon her because of Bishop Udall’s important Church and civic responsibilities. In the words of Pauline Udall Smith:
“She half soled their shoes, barbered their hair and made every article of clothing they wore until they were nearly grown. She made butter and cheese for sale, raised chickens and a garden each year, while at the same time cooking for hired men. … [She also] found time for the refinement of life. There were petunias blooming in the window or mignonettes in the yard. On the wall hung pictures, the frames of which she had fashioned from pine cones. The Mexican house in which she lived, often ran tubs of water through its leaky roof, yet she never gave up the yearly going over its ceilings and walls herself with the white wash brush. The rag carpet on the floor had taken hours of her time to make, but brought comfort and cheer to her home.
“On the Sabbath day, she was often seen in the cart with its shafts drawn by one horse, accompanied by her children and their cousins on the way to the school house, one mile distant, or perhaps walking another time. There, a Sunday School class would be taught by her or a choir practice held. In the evening, the hired men and boys gathered around the coal-oil lamp, after the evening meal, and listened to Aunt Ida, as everyone called her, play the guitar and sing.”14
Despite crop failures due to drouth and many health problems, this serene intellectual introduced culture and education into many frontier LDS communities in Arizona.

My third miracle was listening to Brother Griffin talking about the tree of life, The lost sheep, the lost coin and the prodigal son.

The lost coin parable stood out for me because I realised for the first time that the lost coin was lost because of neglect. I began to think about people in general and wondered how often we neglect others in our lives to the point that they don’t feel part of society. Then I remembered a verse that my deaf mission president, Derrick Siswick, quoted to his missionaries at a zone conference: “And in that day shall the deaf hear the words of the book, and the eyes of the blind shall see out of obscurity, and out of darkness” (Isaiah 29:18).

From that moment on, I felt that deaf members and investigators can ‘hear’ the gospel in their language. How grateful I am that Bishop Fakatou agreed to have two interpreters for the Solihull Ward’s weekly virtual fireside each Sunday evening.

“I didn’t take Young Women very seriously for a while as a teenager. But one day I saw my mom (who was a Young Women leader) working on projects for the youth program. I remember feeling so inspired by her example to progress spiritually, so I tried to change my attitude.
“I started truly learning what the gospel of Jesus Christ meant for my life. Over the years, I felt a witness that the gospel of Jesus Christ is true. Even when life was hard as I was figuring out my life after my teenage years, as I kept holding onto those things I knew were true as a young woman, I had so many spiritual experiences that have made my testimony what it is today.”
Sundae I., Misamis Oriental, Philippines

Even if you feel your talents are small, you can still achieve. Where the desire is strong, seemingly weak talents may be strengthened and developed. As a boy, President Heber J. Grant became aware of some limitations. He was not blessed with athletic talent. He could not sing well—in fact he couldn’t even carry a tune. He could not write legibly.
With a burning desire to achieve, and through long and consistent hours of practice, he became a member of the state-championship baseball team. He learned to sing many of the Latter-day Saint hymns. He became an expert penman and supplemented his income by writing Christmas cards.
President Grant summarized his achievements with these words from Ralph Waldo Emerson: “That which we persist in doing becomes easier for us to do, not that the nature of the thing itself is changed, but that our power to do is increased.” (Heber J. Grant, Gospel Standards, Salt Lake City, Utah: The Improvement Era, 1941, p. 355.)

At the end of her life, Emma continued to testify of the Book of Mormon. In a letter to her son Joseph III, she described her part in bringing forth the Book of Mormon: “Indeed I know what it is in my small sphere of labor.”16 A few months before her death, Emma told Joseph III, “My belief is that the Book of Mormon is of divine authenticity—I have not the slightest doubt of it.” She testified that her husband Joseph was indeed a prophet—she had seen his work. “I was an active participant in the scenes that transpired,” she said. “It is marvelous to me, ‘a marvel and a wonder.’”17

In a branch with many recent converts, the girls have had several opportunities to fellowship new members and to do missionary work. After Elizabeth had been a stake missionary for about a year and a half, one of her Cambodian friends from elementary school began investigating the Church. Missionaries asked Elizabeth to attend the discussions to support her friend, Phally Chhim. Elizabeth happily agreed, and a few months later Phally was baptized.

Recently I was reading the journal of my great-grandfather, Nathaniel Hodges, who was called on a mission to England in 1883. He told of coming to Salt Lake City to be set apart for his mission and attending conference while he was there. Listen to his description of that conference: “Went to meetings in large Tabernacle all day. There were splendid instructions given. The remarks of Joseph F Smith and George Q Cannon and President John Taylor were particularly powerful. I heard some of the oldest inhabitants say they never attended a more powerful and Spiritual Conference.”

Each week, Betty logs on to the Church’s FamilySearch app to find a deceased relative for whom she can help provide temple blessings. She says, “It feels special to be taking a family name card to the temple, to think about that person and her life, and to pray and hope she will accept the gospel and the ordinances.”

Church leaders were assigned by the First Presidency of the Church to reorganise the stake presidency. They had prayed and received impressions to their hearts and minds (See Doctrine and Covenants 8:2) that Kumaitotoya, who was then serving as a bishop, was the man the Lord had chosen.
Kaumaititoya received authority to lead the stake as Church leaders placed their hands on his head and blessed him in the same manner as the disciples were in the Biblical account found in John 15.

Chanterel Hauata of the Heiri Ward also knows the joy of attending the temple. Although a benign brain tumor caused him to go blind six years ago, in the temple he sees clearly. “It is a place of clarity,” he explains. “In the temple we learn of eternity. It lifts us beyond this mortal life.”

Our youngest son Josh, who recently returned from his mission, was giving a talk in sacrament meeting and he shared his plan for attending the temple. Upon arriving at the temple, he would park his car in a secluded spot, then think back over the week and determine if there was anything that needed repentance. He would also contemplate if there were any behaviours that needed to be more like the Saviour’s. Next, he would think about what he needed to learn while serving in the temple that day. Following that, he was going to take all these thoughts and plans and present them to the Lord in humble prayer. Once that prayer was said, he would then feel ready to enter the temple.
After hearing him share those words, and feeling the witness of the Holy Ghost, I realised that he had changed. I realised that I also needed to change. This recently returned missionary was teaching me and others about how to enter the House of the Lord.
I spoke with Josh afterwards and he stated that he used the same preparation for the sacrament and personal prayer. I am humbled to realise that I frequently fall short in my preparation to interact with the divine. I wonder how much more personal revelation we could obtain from our individual prayers, sacrament meetings and temple visits if we follow this pattern.

If it snowed on Halloween,
The trees would dress like ghosts.
Instead of treats they’d give us tricks
That we’d enjoy the most.
They’d drop their snowsheets on our heads
Or poke us with their bones
Or haunt us, when the wind was strong,
With ghostly gasps and groans.
We’d stand right next to them and laugh
And mock their spooky sound—
For all the time we’d know ghost trees
Are rooted to the ground.

Douglas Troy Powelson is the first Scout to receive his Eagle award in Taiwan in the past three years. The Eagle is an award in the Boy Scouts of America program. Troy continues his activity in that program even while living in Taiwan. He is the son of Douglas and Shawna Powelson and is originally from Orem, Utah. Troy and his family are living in Taipei where his father is serving as a mission president.
Troy made his 50-mile hike across the rugged mountains of central Taiwan. He was selected to represent the Alaskan/Asia district for the “Boy Scout of the Year” world competition for 1982.
Troy is in the ninth grade at the Taipei International School where he is an honor student. He is a class officer and is also the only ninth grade starter on the school’s varsity basketball team.