Gospel Story Finder

Many years ago it was my privilege to provide a blessing to a beautiful 12-year-old young lady, Jami Palmer. She had just been diagnosed with cancer. She learned that her leg where the cancer was would require multiple surgeries. A long-planned hike with her Young Women class up a rugged trail was out of the question, she thought.
Jami told her friends they would have to hike without her. I’m confident there was disappointment in her heart.
But then the other young women responded emphatically, “No, Jami, you are going with us!”
“But I can’t walk,” came the reply.
“Then we’ll carry you to the top!” And they did.
None of those precious young women will ever forget that memorable day when a loving Heavenly Father looked down with a smile of approval and was well pleased.

We have one child, a son. We got such a good one the first time we were not blessed with any more. And I have seen him grow through the covenants of the Lord. I walked with him through the temple. I saw him serve a mission. I look forward to July when he takes his chosen companion to the temple. The way he has lived has caused me to come unto Christ.

Along with you I have observed in recent months a wondrous, almost unbelievable, change in some of the nations of the earth. Dictators have fallen, and the voices of the people are heard again with a new song of freedom.
I watched on television the summary trial given one who had been a merciless despot. Now in the moment of his extremity he wished for mercy on the part of his accusers. I know nothing of the court system under which he and his wife were tried. I know only that the hearing was short, the judgment death, and the execution quick and final. There had been no mercy shown through long years of oppression, harsh and unrelenting; and now in this hour of bitter culmination none was extended.

I have a dear friend who is a respected physician. He writes a regular national article on health. Often his subject concerns nutrition. He has a problem. He loves doughnuts—delicious but not usually considered one of the world’s most nutritious foods.

To resolve this dilemma, he has come up with what he calls his 80:20 theory of nutrition. This theory says if you are very good 80 percent of the time, you can eat what you want the other 20 percent of the time.

Now, this may be all right in nutrition, but the 80:20 principle is not acceptable in such things as gambling, pornography, or honesty. Brothers and sisters, are we sometimes 80:20 members of the Church?

For example, it is interesting to observe that LDS understanding of the nature of the Godhead has also seen considerable growth since the Church was organized in 1830. There was no question among the Saints from the beginning that God was a personal being, or that man had direct access to him through prayer. Joseph Smith had seen him, as well as his Son, Jesus Christ, in vision, years before the Church was organized.
But in the early years, few members of the Church were fully aware of Joseph Smith’s first vision, for at first he did not widely circulate any account of it. Only in 1838, to correct “the many reports which have been put into circulation by evil-disposed and designing persons,” would he prepare it for publication (JS—H 1:1). Consequently, since there was no effort in the first few years of Church history to define precisely the full nature of the Godhead, many new converts undoubtedly kept some of their old sectarian ideas. In addition, their ideas may well have been reinforced by a few statements in the first edition of the Book of Mormon that did not clearly distinguish between the Father and the Son.
Many passages in the first edition of the Book of Mormon clearly identified the Savior as the Son of God. But isolated verses were still not fully understood and some were subject to misinterpretation. In 1916, the First Presidency and the Council of the Twelve issued a carefully stated doctrinal exposition entitled The Father and the Son. This statement clearly identified the various ways in which the term Father might be used in the scriptures, especially with reference to Jesus Christ, and helped thereby any who were inclined to misunderstand.
The 1835 edition of the Doctrine and Covenants included an important, though unofficial, early statement of Church beliefs known as the Lectures on Faith. At this time Joseph Smith had announced no revelation on whether the Father had a physical body of flesh and bone, or on the nature of the Holy Ghost, and consequently the fifth lecture contained an incomplete description of the Godhead that might not be understood by members of the Church today. Nevertheless, Joseph Smith undoubtedly continued to meditate and pray on this and many other issues. Precisely when he may have received new revelation on this subject we do not know, but on 2 April 1843, he gave some important “items of instruction” at Ramus, Illinois, which stated with more clarity than ever before the physical nature of the Godhead and particularly the Holy Ghost. These instructions later became part of the Doctrine and Covenants: “The Father has a body of flesh and bones as tangible as man’s; the Son also; but the Holy Ghost has not a body of flesh and bones, but is a personage of Spirit. Were it not so, the Holy Ghost could not dwell in us.” (D&C 130:22.)
A year later Joseph Smith delivered one of his most famous discourses on the nature of God. Here he added great new insight for the Saints by explaining that God the Father was “once as we are now,” and that now he is “an exalted man … It is the first principle of the gospel to know for a certainty the character of God, and to know that we may converse with Him as one man converses with another, and that He was once a man like us; yea, that God himself, the Father of us all, dwelt on an earth, the same as Jesus Christ Himself did.” (History of the Church, 6:305; this is from the King Follett funeral sermon.)
Thus, only a little more than two months before his death, Joseph Smith was continuing to clarify many things for the Saints, and laid the basis for the broadened understanding of the Godhead they hold today.

Let me begin with a legend. There is a story of a grandfather, a holy man, who, caring for his grandson, sent him out to play. Shortly the boy returned sobbing as if his heart would break. He explained, “I was playing hide-and-seek with my friends. I went and hid and waited but no one came for me. They all ran away.” The grandfather embraced him and said, “Now you know how God feels. He hides and no one comes for him.”

Sister Bangerter and I recently stood at the feet of the Statue of Liberty in New York harbor with President and Sister McGregor of Caldwell, New Jersey. They pointed out Ellis Island as the entry point into this land for hundreds of thousands of immigrants, including my grandparents and also Elder Widtsoe and his mother. We read again the inspiring words of Emma Lazarus announcing the beacon to wandering souls. Referring to the ancient statue on the Greek island of Rhodes, she speaks of “The New Colossus”:
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land:
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome: her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your stored pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost, to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!
Then President McGregor coupled this feeling to the words of Lehi:
“Wherefore, this land is consecrated unto him whom he shall bring. And if it so be that they shall serve him according to the commandments which he hath given, it shall be a land of liberty unto them; wherefore, they shall never be brought down into captivity; … but unto the righteous it shall be blessed forever.” (2 Ne. 1:7.)

“Hurry up, kids!” Dad called. “I found a sacrament meeting that starts in an hour.”
We had driven all the way to California for a week of going to the beach, sleeping late, eating lots of ice cream, and visiting amusement parks. But today was Sunday, and Dad had been on the phone looking for a ward for us to attend.
“It’s hard to get ready for church on vacation,” I thought. My dress was wrinkled, and my brother Mike had left his Sunday shoes at home. My little sister Ruthie kept turning on the TV and opening every drawer and closet in our small hotel room. Finally we were ready.
The drive to church was longer than we expected, and by the time we arrived, the deacons had just finished passing the sacrament. We quietly slipped into a back row and listened to the rest of the meeting. Even though we didn’t know any of the people there, it felt just like home. We sang “We Thank Thee, O God, for a Prophet,” and one of the speakers told a story I had heard in Primary the week before.
After the meeting, Dad disappeared for a minute. When he came back, he said, “I just talked to the bishop. Another sacrament meeting starts in 15 minutes. You can stay cozy right here.”
“What? Why? We just went to sacrament meeting!” Mike protested.
“Yes, but we missed the sacrament,” Dad explained.
“But we heard all the talks and songs. Dad, we’re on vacation,” I whined.
Dad thought for a minute. “Michelle, you remember your baptism, don’t you?”
“Yes.” I had been baptized a few months before.
“Well, you remember that Mom and the bishop gave talks, Mike played the piano, and Sister Tueller led the opening and closing songs?”
“Yes.”
“What was the most important part of your baptism? What were we all there for?” Dad asked.
“My baptism, of course!”
“Right. And taking the sacrament is the reason we come to sacrament meeting.”
I thought about how silly it would be to attend your baptism and leave before getting baptized. I realized that the sacrament must be even more important than I thought.
“Taking the sacrament is the most important thing we’ll do all week,” Dad said.
“More important than going to the beach?” Ruthie asked.
Dad smiled and pulled Ruthie onto his lap. “Even more important than going to the beach.”
We all chuckled. After all, we were on vacation.

Brother Call, my senior class seminary teacher, never knew it, but he was literally responsible for saving the lives of five young G.I.s in the steaming jungles of Vietnam. I’m sure that when he taught that heartfelt lesson on Joseph Smith in the Liberty Jail, he had no idea just how far it would reach.
By the first anniversary of my graduation from high school, I had already been in the military five months. It was 1967, and the war in southeast Asia was raging.
One terrifying day, I found myself and the four others in my patrol creeping across an opening about 300-yards wide. The only cover we had was a darkened sky and some low grass and weeds. The grass was so short, in fact, that we couldn’t even raise ourselves up on our elbows. For more than five hours we had to inch our way across that wet, muddy rice paddy. The only thing I could see for those five wet hours were the soles of Buddy’s worn jungle combat boots.
It was maddening. The enemy knew we were there. Every few minutes, without warning, they would spray the area with machine gun and automatic weapon fire. The bullets were so close I could almost see them whizzing by and hear them in stereo. To us, the real definition of relief was when the next round of ammunition actually sounded farther away than the previous round.
I couldn’t help but remember a World War II movie I’d seen in high school, where the enemy set a similar field on fire, burning the American G.I.s in the process. Though I was absolutely terrified, I was also grateful for the mud, the water, the green grass, and the ever present drizzle that kept us fireproof.
Our greatest objective during that little mission was no more than to just keep moving—no matter how slow it might be—and to stay totally quiet, so as not to give away our position.
But suddenly, two hours into the mission, Buddy was attacked by severe claustrophobia. This “abnormal dread of being in close quarters” gave him a seemingly uncontrollable urge to jump up and run, screaming, toward the other side of the clearing. He never would have made it and surely would have given away our position, making us easy targets for the enemy. It was up to me to keep him calm and quiet. I instantly offered up a prayer for help. I had nowhere else to turn, and I had to keep him calm. All our lives depended on it.
That’s when Brother Call’s lesson began to have its effect. It was the only thing that came to mind. I saw him standing in front of the class, with fervor and conviction, teaching us about the Prophet Joseph Smith and his friends spending those horrible six months in the Liberty Jail. It was a 14-foot square room with no sanitary facilities, no showers, and very little fresh air or light. And the Lord told Joseph that he should not despair, for “all these things shall … be for thy good” (D&C 122:7).
Then, quietly, in a whisper calmed by the Holy Ghost, I talked Buddy through the most awful day of his life. I told him about another day, long ago in my hometown, when I sat almost uninterested on the back row as Brother Call relived the Liberty Jail story with me and 32 other seminary students. In his beautiful high tenor voice, Brother Call sang, “… if Christ should come tomorrow, what would I do? What would I say?” And on and on.
As I retold it, I realized that that Church history class was saving my life, and the lives of four others as well. We found ourselves at that moment no worse off than brother Joseph and his friends in their cell. I had never before, or ever after, whisper-sung a song like the one Brother Call sang. But in that watersnake-infested paddy I had to do it that day.
And Buddy whisper-cried. And so did Sam behind me—only able to see the soles of my boots, but feeling the soul of my being.
Lives were changed after that terror-filled day. Complaining ceased. A true camaraderie developed. Christianity became a major factor in everything we did. Buddy and Sam never joined the Church, but I feel they owe their lives to it. They learned a great deal about Joseph Smith that day, and they learned how much the Lord loves us. And the Holy Ghost bore witness to their spirits that what they heard was true.
All of those hours of seminary, which I estimate to be at least 600, paid off that day in the jungles of Vietnam. As a high school student, I never would have believed how important they would one day be.

Meanwhile, World War I broke out. To help connect women with each other during that challenging time, the Church published its Relief Society Magazine, which became an important resource for the sisters in Melbourne. They discussed its articles, poetry and stories as they gathered to knit socks and prepare parcels for soldiers in Europe and the Middle East.

Elizabeth’s two grandsons had enlisted to serve in the war. Her son Horace also enlisted and was sent to the Middle East as part of Australia’s Light Horse regiments.

Church attendance dwindled as more brethren were called to military duty. Soon, it was up to the women—Elizabeth and her friends—to keep their small branch together. The sisters looked forward to their weekly meetings for spiritual renewal and social and personal upliftment.

By the end of the war, almost every family in their area had lost a brother, a husband, a son or grandson. For Elizabeth, it was her grandson William Wallace Cameron Butler who died in the Battle of Fromelles. The bond amongst the sisters in the branch grew even stronger as they supported each other through the heartbreak. Then they began rebuilding their lives.

Samuel’s Church contributions kept pace with his prosperity. One thing that briefly bothered Samuel upon reaching Zion was the law of tithing. He desired to carry out every measure, but he “could not see for a while how I could pay tithing and live. But the Spirit said to me, ‘All things are possible with God.’ I never questioned it any longer.” In addition Samuel willingly paid all Church assessments such as fast offerings and building funds. When subscriptions were taken out for the Wilford Ward building fund in 1901–1902, for example, few members contributed more than the $200 Samuel paid in cash.

Agustin Veras, Jr. seated on the first row inside the Temple, was surprised to see President Dallin H. Oaks standing near him.
“I was struck with great delight. It was my first time encountering an apostle of the Lord! His countenance shone,” he said. “I could not hold back my tears because I felt his love. My testimony of the Lord’s apostles was strengthened.”

When President Henry B. Eyring, Second Counselor in the First Presidency, gave his general conference address “O Remember, Remember” in October 2007, I didn’t comprehend the enormous impact it would have on my life. Yet I acted on the invitation to recognize and record the hand of the Lord in my family’s life each day.1 While I haven’t been 100 percent consistent over the years, I have written thousands of ways the Lord has guided my life, usually in seemingly small ways. This simple daily practice (and like all efforts, it does take practice to become better at it) has brought me profound joy as I feel Heavenly Father’s love and guidance for me so often throughout each day.
That experience and knowledge has also helped me find strength and hope when I wonder if I’m single because this is the work Heavenly Father wants me to be doing now. By frequently writing down how He is in the small details of my day, I feel at complete peace that He will guide me in one of my most important decisions for eternity. Helping me find a righteous, covenant-keeping spouse is not something He will overlook. I can have confidence that He will guide me as I do my part to live worthy of, seek, and act on the promptings of the Holy Ghost. I feel peace and joy because I trust Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ to guide my life.

President Harold B. Lee presented to his daughters in their teenage years their personal copies of the triple combination. On the flyleaf of one he wrote:

To My Beloved Daughter,That you may have a constant measure by which to judge between truth and the errors of man’s philosophies, and thus grow in spirituality as you increase in knowledge, I give you this sacred book to read frequently and cherish throughout your life.

Lovingly your father,Harold B. Lee

(Thomas S. Monson in Conference Report, Apr. 1970, p. 98)

Not surprisingly, Michelle wants to go on a mission herself someday. She’s practicing by telling her friends about the gospel and inviting them to church. Unfortunately they seldom come. This doesn’t hurt the friendships, but it does sometimes hurt Michelle. Sadly, one friend who did listen with great interest died in a tragic fire. “I was crying,” Michelle says. “I missed her very much. We went to her church service. It was a sad, rainy day, but I prayed, and I felt that I didn’t have to be sad anymore, because I would meet her again. We went to her mom’s house, and her mom was crying. I said, ‘You’ll meet her again in the next life,’ and it seemed to help.”

Jane Manning watched the boat float from the harbor out to Lake Erie. She felt like her dreams were floating away with it.
Just one year ago, she had joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and decided to move to be with the other Saints in Nauvoo. Her mother and seven other family members had traveled with her down the Erie Canal to Buffalo, New York. But in Buffalo, they weren’t allowed on the boat because of the color of their skin.
“What do we do now?” her brother, Isaac, asked quietly.
The question echoed in the frosty air. Nauvoo was still 800 miles (1,287 km) away. They could give up and head home, or try to travel later. …
But Jane couldn’t wait! She knew the Book of Mormon was true. God once again spoke through prophets. She needed to get to Nauvoo with her family.
Jane squared her shoulders and looked westward. “We walk.”
And walk they did. Until their shoes wore out. Until their feet cracked and bled and they had to pray to be healed. Sometimes they slept outside, and the frost was so heavy it felt like falling snow. Some people threatened to put them in jail, thinking that they were escaped slaves. They didn’t know that the Mannings were a free black family. And still they walked, singing hymns to pass the time.
They were nearing Nauvoo when they reached a river.
“No bridge,” Isaac said.
Jane nodded. “We’ll just have to walk through it, then.” As she stepped into the river, the water came up to her ankles. Slowly, she inched forward. The water swirled up to her knees and then past her waist. By the time she reached the middle of the stream, the water came up to her neck! Luckily, it didn’t get deeper, and all the Mannings crossed safely.
At last they came to Nauvoo. Jane could see the beautiful limestone walls of the Nauvoo Temple on a hill overlooking the valley. Even though it wasn’t finished yet, it took her breath away. Someone directed them to the house where the Prophet Joseph lived.
A tall, dark-haired woman stood in the doorway. “Come in, come in!” she called. “I’m Emma Smith.”
The next few minutes were a blur. Jane met the Prophet, and he set up chairs around the room for all the Mannings. Jane sank into the chair gratefully and listened as Joseph introduced them to everyone there, including his friend Dr. Bernhisel. Then Joseph turned to Jane. “You have been the head of this little band, haven’t you?” he asked.
“Yes, sir!” answered Jane.
Joseph smiled. “God bless you! Now I would like to hear about your travels.”
Jane told about their injured feet and sleeping in the snow and crossing the river. Everyone listened quietly. “But it wasn’t terrible,” she finished. “We went on our way rejoicing, singing hymns and thanking God for His infinite goodness and mercy to us in blessing us, protecting us, and healing our feet.”
Jane Manning lived with Emma and Joseph Smith for several months. She married Isaac James, and they were among the early settlers of Utah Valley. She remained a faithful member of the Church even though she faced many challenges. When she died in 1908, President Joseph F. Smith (1838–1918) spoke at her funeral.
There was silence for a moment. “What do you think of that, Doctor?” Joseph finally said, slapping the man’s knee. “Isn’t that faith?”
“If it had been me, I fear I should have backed out and returned to my home!” Dr. Bernhisel admitted.
Joseph nodded and turned back to Jane and her family: “God bless you. You are among friends.”

I am grateful to be with you in this great priesthood meeting. All of us are members of a quorum in the priesthood. That may not seem remarkable to you, but it does to me. I was ordained a deacon in the Aaronic Priesthood in a tiny branch of the Church. There was only one family in the branch. We had no chapel. We met in our house. I was the only deacon and my brother the only teacher.
So I know what it is like to exercise the priesthood alone, without serving with others in a quorum. I was content in that small branch without a quorum. I had no way to know what I was missing. And then my family moved across a continent to where there were many priesthood holders and strong quorums.

Recently at a stake conference a young man was called to the pulpit with only a few moments’ notice. He said he had been away to school and had come home to find a very dear friend in trouble. She had become enmeshed in the drug scene and had been tragically hurt. The young man sought the Lord in prayer, crying out for strength to help his friend. “For the first time in my life I truly forgot myself,” he said. “While I prayed I came to a consciousness I had never before possessed. My concern for her was honest and intense and without self-reference, and I knew as I prayed that the love and concern of Almighty God for me and for my friend were pure and real and very personal.”

Rudy Abate of Morristown, Tennessee, was chosen as Boy of the Year for the state of Tennessee. He also represented his state in the national competition. He was selected from local winners of Boys’ Clubs throughout the state, and selection was based on attendance, church involvement, home responsibilities, and involvement with the community.
Rudy has served as president of the local Keystone Club and as co-president of Tennessee Future Scholars.
As a priest in the Morristown Branch, Knoxville Tennessee Stake, Rudy has served as assistant Cub Scout leader as well as president of his priesthood quorums.

One of the youth to receive the magazine was Heather Duke, 14, of the Tampa Third Ward. “I like it,” she says. “I haven’t found a story yet I don’t like. It’s helped me a lot, and I’d like to keep taking it. I read it every time it comes out. I just sit down before I go to bed and read the whole thing, and my sister reads it with me.
“Before I got my gift subscription, all I knew about the New Era was that it was a Church magazine. I didn’t know it had so many interesting stories in it. I’m getting two other youth magazines, and I read the New Era more than I do those.”