Gospel Story Finder

A little over a year ago President Clark and I were hoping for a miracle and trying to delay the deterioration of his kidneys by implementing diet and activity restrictions. But we came to understand that was not the Lord's plan. Instead, we felt impressed that we should embrace a transplant. That was the Lord's plan.

We knew there would be pain and suffering involved, not just for President but for our son Andrew who would be the donor. By embracing the whole experience, President could deal with the pain and suffering knowing it would be just for a while and then this wonderful gift would make new life possible for him.

This decision had a tremendous impact on us. It helped us to humble ourselves before the Lord. We felt Him closer to us, and we drew closer to each other. The Lord blessed us and Andrew and his family with positive attitudes and with many, many tender mercies.

Lorraine Booth of the Ottawa Second Ward, Ottawa Ontario Stake, was born with a birth defect leaving her partially paralyzed from the waist down. But that hasn’t stopped her from competing in athletics.
Lorraine won two firsts in the Regional Ontario Games for the Disabled in the 25-metre breaststroke and the 25-metre freestyle in swimming. She went on to the Provincial Games for the Physically Disabled in Toronto and entered two 50-metre races and received gold medals in both.
Lorraine also enjoys horseback riding and tennis.

In many areas, the situation is even more difficult because transportation is limited and finances scarce. Sisters Parkin and Pingree and I had the unique experience of being part of a Relief Society teleconference with women who live in the Bush District of Alaska. These women and families, who often live on islands in the Aleutian chain or in remote areas of the state, have food and home supplies flown into them a few times a year. There is not a Smith's food market or Target in their towns. Where there is more than one family who is LDS, they meet together in a home; but most often, they are the only family in their area, and they meet together each week to partake of the sacrament and to hear the word of God. They must do it themselves. The sisters visit teach and share the gospel messages with women they have never met. The internet or a phone is their connection to each other and to the fellowship or sisterhood with the Saints. And yet, in spite of these difficult circumstances, they have made the choice to continue to grow toward the Lord and desire that their children have this same blessing and opportunity.

In my first year of high school, I made a commitment to read the New Testament from beginning to end. After school and on weekends, I retreated to the upper story of our house and read the Savior’s words and of His miracles and life.
Though my young mind often did not understand the language of the Bible, I came to know Jesus Christ. I learned that He is the Son of God and that He was sent to atone for our sins. I learned that He walked with, spoke to, and blessed ordinary, weak people—people like me.
I was sometimes confused while reading complex passages in Paul’s epistles and John’s writings in the book of Revelation, but I could always feel the truth of their teachings. I found that reading the scriptures helped me through hard days at school and gave me guidance in making important decisions.

The Ratnam teens explain that having the priesthood in their home also adds to their family’s well-being. They reminisce about how their father led the rest of them into the Church eight years ago, even when they had to travel—all four of them—40 kilometers (25 miles) each way on a single motorbike just to get to their meetings. They talk about prayers of faith for Pavani when she was sick on the day Dad was baptized, about the priesthood blessing Dad gave to seriously ill Naga during school exams, and about the way Dad always counsels with Mom, with them, and in prayer with Heavenly Father when making major decisions.

One week after I went through the temple, I moved away from home and started college. Even though I was attending Brigham Young University, a school with lots of members of the Church, I was still pondering how I could make specific efforts to keep feeling the Spirit as much as I had while in the temple.
Adjusting to college was difficult for me. I was trying to balance school, work, a social life, sleep, and spiritual endeavors. At times it seemed like feeling the Spirit consistently was out of reach. I kept remembering those moments when I’d felt the Spirit so strongly, and I kept wondering how I could ever feel that again.
I realized that leaving the temple didn’t have to mean leaving behind the peace and joy I felt there. Instead, worshipping in the temple has helped me invite the Savior into all aspects of my life.

In last April’s conference, in the general priesthood meeting, I told about my father drawing a picture of a knight in armor to teach me about putting on the whole armor of God and the spiritual protection it brings.

After that session was over, a father reported to his family what he had learned. Inspired, their young son Jason searched LDS.org to hear the message for himself. A few days later he appeared in family home evening to share the lesson with his brothers and sisters. Here he is.

Jason in his “whole armor of God”

A simple conference message, inspired of the Lord, received by a child, was taught to a family in a personal, powerful way. I love his breastplate of righteousness. I love his shield of faith to thwart the fiery darts of the adversary. These are the blessings of conference.

Growing up on a ranch in southern Utah taught me a lot about working with animals and how dangerous they can be. We ran a herd of Hereford cows, including several bulls. I truly enjoyed working the cattle from the back of a horse and generally living a ranch life.
My family was active in the Church, and when we were living on the ranch, we always made the 30-mile trip on a gravel road to town for Sunday meetings. My parents taught me to pray, and throughout my life prayer has helped me through some difficult circumstances.
One day I learned to respond to the promptings of the Spirit quickly, and I believe it saved my life. At least it kept me from serious injury.
I was 14, and I was working not far away from the ranch house one summer day. I finished my work and was headed back through the corral that was enclosed by a very solid pole fence made of juniper posts and poles. Inside the corral was a herd of about 30 range cows, including our prime Hereford bull, Charlie, who weighed 2,000 pounds or more. My dad liked to have what he called “ton bulls,” and that certainly described Charlie.
I was walking along the pole fence, and Charlie was in my way, so I smacked him on his hip with my hand, and he scampered out of the way. I continued on past Charlie a few feet, with my back to him, when I heard what sounded like cows scuffling. I had heard that scuffling sound often and would have thought nothing of it, but something else went through my mind.
Quicker than I could even think about it, I knew I had to leap for my life. I lunged for the top pole of the fence, grabbed it, and yanked myself headfirst over onto the rocks and weeds on the other side. As I was about halfway across I had time to wonder if I had overreacted. I briefly even felt a bit embarrassed. Upon landing, I immediately looked back through the bottom poles to see what had happened, and there was Charlie’s massive head and horns, his nose about six inches from mine, staring at me through the fence with those empty, black eyes. It came to me forcefully that if I had questioned that instantaneous prompting for even the briefest moment, Charlie would have crushed me against the fence.
I learned two things from that experience. First was to never be on foot around a range herd. They don’t know you’re the boss unless you’re on a horse. Second, listen to the promptings of the Spirit without question—without hesitation. Satan is the one who tells you that you are overreacting. Living worthily (keeping the commandments, saying daily prayers, attending church, studying the scriptures) helped qualify me for spiritual gifts, especially a lightning-fast prompting to leap for my life.
I have not yet finished thanking my Heavenly Father for that blessing even though it’s been more than 50 years.

There are those of us who have laid away our little ones in the grave, and we had that responsibility. A little daughter was born to us over in Holland while I was president of the mission there, and we kept her until she was three and a half years old. My wife has said time and time again that she knew the angels brought that spirit to her because she felt their presence, and yet we laid her away in the grave. If we had to feel that that was the end, we would have given anything in this world to have her back again. And then we come to this great knowledge that we have in the restoration of the gospel, that she will be ours in the eternal world and we will have the joy of seeing her grow up without sin, unto salvation. Sometimes I have thought that probably some of these choice spirits did not need the experience here in mortality like other children, and that is why the Lord has seen fit to call them home.

I have known many modern-day Samaritans. A friend of mine named Larry is an amazing example of showing love for others. He once shared:
When I joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints at age 35, one of the many things I quickly learned was that I needed to be willing to serve others. Whether it was to help someone move, offer lawn care, do repairs, or provide transportation, I tried as much as possible to respond to requests for service from my quorum or from individuals. . . .
. . . I had the opportunity to serve an older couple. Their small, old country home needed a lot of repairs, including its leaky roof. The couple, however, suffered from serious health challenges that prevented them from doing physical labor.
On a hot day in July, my good friend . . . and I were up on the roof putting down new shingles. We were uncomfortable [in the hot sun] and dripping with sweat. Suddenly, [my friend] stopped nailing, stood up, and looked at me.
“Do you realize how blessed we are to be the ones capable of being up here doing this work and not the ones inside who can’t?” he asked.
His question hit me like a bolt of lightning. It was literally a life-changing moment. My whole perspective on service took on new meaning. I realized how blessed I was to be able to do all the things that I could do.
. . . The Lord had blessed us with the ability to truly be His hands. With that realization, it was easy for me to feel love for those we were helping.36

Harold B. Lee learned to recognize the Spirit at an early age. One day he started toward some rundown sheds, but a voice called his name and told him not to go there. Harold obeyed. He continued to follow the Spirit throughout his life, such as when he led the Church Welfare Program. He also led the Church department that developed learning materials to help members recognize the Spirit in their own lives.

Some years ago I was assigned to a stake conference in San Diego, California. It was a hot, humid Saturday in June when I stepped off the plane and began searching for the stake president among the faces in the crowded waiting area. Although we had spoken to each other on the telephone, we had never met in person. It was not difficult to spot him. He was the one person wearing a dark suit and tie. He was standing against the waiting room wall. As I approached him he smiled and I smiled and asked, "How are you, president?" His reply was a pleasant, "I'm happy!" I loved that greeting.

Throughout the day the president used that same response whenever he was asked the proverbial question, "How are you?" I determined that I would ask him about that greeting. As we were driving toward his home that evening, he beat me to it. "Elder Pinegar," he said, "you want to ask me a question."

"I do?"

"Yes. You want to know why I say, 'I'm happy.'"

I admitted that I was curious and asked him to tell me the origin of this now familiar greeting.

This is his story:

He was called to serve a mission at age 19. During his initial interview with his mission president, he told him he did not want to be there. He wanted to go home. The president told him he couldn't send him home. He couldn't release him because he was not the one who had called him on his mission. He would have to stay. The young elder resigned himself to being in the mission, but he determined he would not work. Every weekly letter to the president contained a request for a release from the mission. In every personal interview with the mission president, he asked to go home.

After one such interview following a zone meeting, the president said, "Okay, Elder, you are going home. I've arranged for one of my assistants to remain with your companion." The missionary could hardly believe what was happening. They drove to his apartment where he packed up his things, said goodbye to his companion, and then drove away. He was happy! He was going home!

As they traveled, the missionary began to express his gratitude to the president for allowing him to go home. "Oh," said the president. "I'm not sending you to your home. I'm taking you to the mission home. I'm turning you over to my wife."

"But I don't want to go to the mission home. I want to go to my home," the missionary insisted. They drove on in silence.

It was dinnertime when they pulled into the driveway of the mission home. The president's wife came out to the car. With a bright smile she greeted her husband and then welcomed the frustrated missionary to her home with a question: "How are you, Elder?"

With a frown and an angry voice, he told her he was not happy to be there. He wanted to go to his own home. She smiled and said, "Elder, that's the wrong answer. Now, look at me with a smile and say 'I'm happy!"

"But I'm not happy! I just want to go home."

"Wrong answer, Elder! Let's try that again. How are you, Elder?"

His response was the same. "I'm not happy. I want to go home."

"Wrong answer!" the mission president's wife replied.

The fourth time she repeated the question, he was tired of what he considered "her little game," and responded, without a smile, "Okay, I'm happy."

"Good," she said. "Now we can eat dinner!" For four days, whenever the president's wife saw him, she would pester him with the same question. He continued to reply, "I'm not happy! I want to go home!"

On the fourth night as the elder was walking down the hallway toward his room he saw her coming from the opposite direction. He knew what she was going to say, but this time he would surprise her with the "right answer." "How are you tonight, Elder?" she asked.

"I'm happy!"

"That's great, Elder. Now you can go back to work."

This time he was more emphatic as he responded. He did not want to go to work. He wanted to go home. In a concerned but kind way she invited him to meet with her in the dining room. She had something she wanted to share with him.

As they sat opposite each other at a large table, she looked him squarely in the eyes and told him that he should be a happy, grateful young man. He had the gospel of Jesus Christ, which is the only true plan of happiness in the world. Only through this plan could he, or anyone, find true joy in living. By following it he could learn everything he needed to know and to do in order to find success and real happiness in life. She told him how the principles of the gospel blessed her life for good; how the power of faith and the atonement of Jesus Christ gave her strength to deal with the challenges and difficulties in life. She assured him that through faith and prayer he would be able to fulfill the mission to which he had been called.

As she expressed her deep feelings of faith and joy in the gospel he was filled with the Spirit and somehow his heart changed. He knew what she was saying was true. He was filled with gratitude that the Lord trusted him and had called him to share this great plan of happiness with others. He felt a strong desire to be a missionary, and he received the strength of faith to continue.

At the conclusion of their conversation, the mission president's wife sweetly asked, "How are you, Elder?"

Now, he sincerely responded, "I'm happy!"

As the stake president concluded his story, he said, "Elder Pinegar, from that time until now I have always responded with that truth, 'I'm happy!'" We and he is! However, life has not always been easy for this man. He and his family have experienced some very trying challenges; but they have retained their faith in the gospel of Jesus Christ - the Lord's true plan of happiness. Everyone needs the strength that comes from having faith in the Lord Jesus Christ and the understanding, as President Clark declared, that "faith is a principle of action and power."

Another friend of mine is a prominent corporation lawyer. For years he’s had trouble sleeping at night. An ardent fisherman, he decided one restless night that he would try making the flies that fishermen use. The next day he bought some inexpensive equipment. He went completely overboard on flytying. He enjoyed it even more than fishing. In the space of a few years he must have tied half a million of those things, and he was proud of every single one of them. He became an expert.

At noon today four young men, all grandsons, came to visit us. Three of them had young ladies on their arms—one to talk about his coming wedding, two of them to announce their engagements, and the stray to talk about his mission call to Japan. We talked to them about the fact that one day each of you will take a pure and precious daughter of our Heavenly Father to the temple to be sealed for time and for all eternity. These young grandsons must know what Alma taught: that the gospel plan is “the great plan of happiness” and that happiness is the end of our existence. Of this I bear testimony in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

My beloved sisters, I think my first awareness or consciousness of the existence and the importance of the Relief Society came very early in my life.
My family left Salt Lake City for Arizona when I was three years old. My mother then had six children, and during the time that she went through five more pregnancies and five more births, she was president of the ward Relief Society.
We went to a new land, where water was drawn out of open wells; where flies were so thick you could hardly see out of the screen door in the evening; where typhoid fever was prevalent, and many other diseases, too; where medical help was extremely limited—there were no hospitals, no nurses, and no trained people except the country doctor who had more than he could ever do.
I read in my mother’s journal not long ago such expressions as these: “I left the children with Ruth or Delbert or with Gordon and went to Sister Smith’s home where the second twin had just died and where there were other children desperately ill with typhoid fever.” Again: “Today I spent the day with other sisters making burial clothes for the two children of Sister Jones.” and on and on and on. That was my introduction to Relief Society, and I am sure that to some degree that kind of work is still going forward, for as I understand your work, it includes not only the spiritual and the moral, but also the physical well-being of the people of the ward.

During the height of cross-country season, Heather Frushour, a two-time Utah state champion who graduated last June, used to be so busy that she barely had time to eat. She would wake up at 5:30 in the morning to run three miles with her teammates. After the 30-minute run, she rushed home to get ready for her first class that started at 7:40. Cross-country practice began at 1:00 P.M., and lasted for about three hours. Then it was time for the ice pack on sore muscles. Often Heather didn’t get home until 5:30. And by 7:00 on Mutual night, she was at the church. Then there was homework, and—finally—bedtime at 10:00 or 10:30.
“I may have been busy, but I felt incredibly organized. I definitely don’t feel like I wasted my day,” she says. “I would feel great.”

On one occasion, an ancient mathematician named Archimedes was asked by his king to determine if the king’s new crown was solid gold or if the goldsmith had dishonestly substituted some silver for gold. Archimedes pondered the solution; finally an answer came. So overjoyed was he by this discovery that, according to legend, he ran about the city crying, “Eureka! Eureka!”—meaning, “I have found it! I have found it!”

As a young man, Adrián Paz Zambrano of Honduras wondered why the Bible mentions only the area around Jerusalem and wondered if Jesus Christ visited other nations.

“Years later two missionaries of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints came to my house,” wrote Adrián. “They showed me the Book of Mormon and invited me to read in 3 Nephi, which tells about Christ visiting the Americas.

“As I read, I remembered the questions I had when I was young. I had found the answers. Because of the Book of Mormon, I learned that Jesus Christ visited the Americas after His Resurrection. I was filled with joy because I knew that God loved all His children regardless of location or circumstance.”

Adrián and his wife prayed together to know if the Church was true, and both received a testimony. They were baptized and confirmed, and one year later their family was sealed in the temple.

Many years ago I was serving in the Young Men organization in my ward. I attended an Eagle Scout court of honor in my church building. I was there a few minutes early and sat down on the stage a few rows back. My bishop was sitting alone in his regular spot on the front row. He turned back, smiled, and invited me to sit in the seat next to him. His invitation wasn’t so that he would not be sitting alone but was a specific request for me to sit in that particular seat.
I bantered with him that I would be happy to sit next to him, but not in that particular place because that was a seat for a bishopric counselor. I recall saying, “I am not saying that I won’t sit in that seat. Eventually, maybe, but definitely not right now.”
He chuckled, waved away my comment, and directed me again to sit. I did not know then but found out a couple of weeks later that he had already submitted my name to the stake for a new Church calling, and I would occupy that seat for many months.
That experience taught me a valuable lesson. We choose to provide our time, talents, and all that God has blessed us with to build up the Church and everything around us. The effect of that choice does not wait for when it is convenient or when we feel capable.

The influence of your mother will bless you throughout life, especially when you serve as a missionary. Long years ago, Elder Frank Croft was serving in the state of Alabama. While preaching to the people, he was forcefully abducted by a vicious gang, to be whipped and lashed across his bare back. Elder Croft was ordered to remove his coat and shirt before he was tied to a tree. As he did so, a letter he had recently received from his mother fell to the ground. The vile leader of the gang picked up the letter. Elder Croft closed his eyes and uttered a silent prayer. The attacker read the letter from Elder Croft’s mother. From a copy of that letter, I quote:

“My beloved son, … remember the words of the Savior when He said, … ‘Blessed are ye when men shall revile you and persecute you and say all manner of evil against you falsely for my name’s sake. Rejoice and be exceedingly glad for you will have your reward in Heaven for so persecuted they the prophets which were before you.’ Also remember the Savior upon the cross suffering from the sins of the world when He had uttered these immortal words, ‘Father forgive them, for they know not what they do.’ Surely, my boy, they who are mistreating you … know not what they do or they would not do it. Sometime, somewhere, they will understand and then they will regret their action and they will honor you for the glorious work you are doing. So be patient, my son, love those who mistreat you and say all manner of evil against you and the Lord will bless you and magnify you. … Remember also, my son, that day and night, your mother is praying for you.”

Elder Croft watched the hateful man as he studied the letter. He would read a line or two, then sit and ponder. He arose to approach his captive. The man said: “Feller, you must have a wonderful mother. You see, I once had one, too.” Then addressing the mob, he said: “Men, after reading this Mormon’s mother’s letter, I just can’t go ahead with the job. Maybe we had better let him go.” Elder Croft was released without harm.