Gospel Story Finder

Now may I make a personal reference, which I’ll try to treat in such a way as to preserve the confidentiality. It involved a beautiful, young wife and mother from a prominent family. She had gone away from her home and was now in the East. She had gone out into an area where she and her husband had taken up with those in the ghetto, and she wrote me a rather interesting letter, and I quote only a paragraph: “Tomorrow my husband will shave off his long, full beard. Because of the request of the stake president and your direction in the Priesthood Bulletin, he must not have the appearance of evil or rebellion if he is to get a recommend to go to the temple. I have wept anguished tears; the faces of Moses and Jacob were bearded, and to me the wisdom and spirituality of the old prophets reflected from the face of my own spiritual husband. It was like cutting out for me a symbol of the good things my generation has learned.” Then the letter concluded with a challenge to me: “We are prepared for clear, specific, hard-line direction as youth. Wishy-washy implications are not heard very well here. We look to you to tell it straight.”

I don’t know whether she knew just what she was asking for when she asked me to tell it straight, but these are some things I wrote to her: “In your letter you address me as ‘Dear President Lee,’ and in your first sentence you refer to me as the Lord’s prophet. Now, in your letter you tell me that you are saddened because with the shaving off of the beard and the cutting of the hair, which, to you, made your husband appear as the prophets Moses and Jacob, he would no longer bear that resemblance. I wonder if you might not be wiser to think of following the appearance of the prophets of today. President David O. McKay had no beard or long hair; neither did President Joseph Fielding Smith; and neither does your humble servant whom you have acknowledged as the Lord’s prophet.

“The inconsistency in your letter has made me reflect upon an experience that I had in the mission field when, in company with some missionaries and the mission president, we were at Carthage Jail, where the martyrdom of the Prophet Joseph and his brother, Hyrum, took place. In that meeting there were recounted the events that led up to their martyrdom. Then the mission president made some significant comments. He said, ‘When the Prophet Joseph Smith died there were many who died spiritually with Joseph.’ Likewise there were many who died spiritually with Brigham Young, and so with others of the presidents of the Church, because they chose to follow the man who had passed on, rather than giving allegiance to his successor upon whom the mantle of leadership had been given by the Lord’s appointment.” And then I asked her, “Are you following, in looks, prophets who lived hundreds of years ago? Are you really true to your faith as a member of the Church in failing to look to those who preside in the Church today? Why is it that you want your husband to look like Moses and Jacob, rather than to look like the modern prophets to whom you are expressing allegiance? If you will give this sober thought, your tears will dry, and you’ll begin to have some new thoughts.”

My final advice to you lovely girls who are present, perhaps likewise struggling for answers to difficult questions: Accept this word of counsel and apply it to yourselves, you girls, and you young men. Keep your eye upon those who preside in the Church today, or tomorrow, and pattern your life after them rather than to dwell upon how ancient prophets may have looked or thought or spoken, because if you really believe what you say, you will honor the one who presides today as a prophet, seer, and revelator. For the Lord gives to his leaders in their own dispensation and their own time the things that he would have given to his church for the guidance of his people in this present day. This is the thing that makes this church strong. God isn’t an absentee father. Jesus is the head of this church. This church is founded upon apostles and prophets, but Jesus Christ, the Savior of the world, is the chief cornerstone. He reveals his mind and will by the power of the Holy Ghost to those who preside, as each President of the Church can testify. Today we see the evidence of His direction as we are seeing His work going forward day by day in our time. Well, that letter seemed to bear fruit, because I had another letter from this sweet sister. She said something that pleased me: “I recall the trials of last week basically being a challenge to my sense of individuality. I have a finer understanding of others now. I also see that, like the Council of the Twelve, we may have individual viewpoints, but each is necessary in the deliberation. Yet by our decision through the mediating and truthful power of the Holy Ghost, we will become of one mind without force. Again I feel refreshed in the blessings which always follow difficulties. I’ve pondered on these experiences and wonder why I felt pressed to share them only with you. I trust you will know. We all long to counsel with a wise man and take comfort in the Lord. Perhaps I wrote my prayer.”

And then she said something that thrilled me, “God bless you, President Lee, that your voice may be heard above the chaos of these days.”

My heart feels warm tonight. Broken, bruised, torn, certainly. But beautifully warm. I feel intense gratitude—gratitude so deep and encompassing that it seems a new hole has opened in my soul to make room, gratitude so filling and so personal that it won’t stop coursing down my cheeks in silent tears. My husband is breathing. I can hear it, deep and soft.
Just a couple of hours ago, I climbed into his hospital bed, ignoring the gentle kicks from our soon-to-arrive baby, and found a spot among all the wires hooked to his chest where I could rest my head. Listening to his heartbeat in my ear was an experience that will be burned into my memory forever.
His heart beats still. Not as well as it did before the heart attack. But it beats still.
But mostly I feel gratitude to the Lord for my husband’s life—his deep breathing, his heart pumping blood, his living body and soul. His life is my Christmas miracle.

Fourth, we need to recognize our opportunities to teach and testify. People who have expressed adverse feelings about the Church have let us know that they are at least thinking about it. In Brazil, we taught our missionaries how to turn rejection into opportunity. Often, they would have two or three friendly discussions with a family, then one day the father would meet them at the door and say, “We’ve decided not to discuss religion with you anymore.”
We taught our elders to express what they felt in their hearts at hearing such disappointing news. They would say, “Oh, we are sorry that you have decided not to study with us anymore. We have enjoyed visiting with you, and you have been very friendly to us.” The father, of course, would say something nice in return.
Then the elders would say, “Could we have just a moment to step in and leave a greeting with your family? We won’t impose on you.”
Inside, the elders wouldn’t try to force another discussion, but they might say: “You have been very kind to us and we appreciate it. Before we leave, however, we need to tell you, because of our calling, what the gospel means to us.” Then they would explain why they believe the way they do.
“Do you remember when Joseph Smith knelt by his bedside and asked the Lord to tell him if he loved him or not and the angel appeared? The angel said, ‘Joseph, I have come to you from the presence of God and he has a mission for you to perform by which your name will be known for good or evil among all men.’ What did Joseph say to the angel?” (See JS—H 1:33.)
They would answer, “I guess he said he’d do what God wanted.”
“Yes, he did. He didn’t say, ‘Wait a minute, Mr. Angel. I didn’t want to go on a mission. I just wanted to know if the Lord loved me.’ You can’t do that to an angel, can you? So we have to tell you that someday you will stand before God and he will ask you why you didn’t listen to his message. We don’t know what you will say, but we think you should not refuse the gospel until after you have knelt down and asked the Lord what he wants you to do. Will you do that?”
Upon praying, many people joined the Church who had decided not to hear anymore about it.

This legacy was passed to me by my father, Merrill M. Oveson, the youngest in the family of 13 children. He and my mother, Mal Berg Oveson, also from a faithful lineage, were sealed in the Salt Lake Temple, boarded a train, and went to Oregon to further my father’s education. They remained for more than 40 years, during many of which they lived in a very small farming community where we were the only members of the Church.
I have often thought how easy it would have been for my parents simply to change their faith and join their many friends in the community’s Christian church. This action would have simplified life for them, especially during the World War II years, when rationing of gasoline and tires made it impossible for them to travel the 40 miles to the nearest organized branch of the LDS Church. Instead, they received authorization to have a home Sunday School, which they faithfully held weekly during all those years. There we shared the sacrament as a family. There my brother and sisters and I learned the principles of the gospel and listened to Bible and Book of Mormon stories literally at the feet of our parents.

While on a flight to Peru a few years ago, I was seated next to a self-proclaimed atheist. He asked me why I believe in God. In the delightful conversation that ensued, I told him that I believed in God because Joseph Smith saw Him—and then I added that my knowledge of God also came from personal, real spiritual experience. I shared my belief that “all things denote there is a God” and asked him how he believed the earth—this oasis of life in the vacuum of space—came into existence. He replied that, in his words, “the accident” could have happened over eons of time. When I explained how highly improbable it would be for an “accident” to produce such beauty and order, he was quiet for a time and then good-naturedly said, “You got me.” I asked if he would read the Book of Mormon. He said he would, so I sent him a copy.
Now, I do not know whether my atheist friend ever read the Book of Mormon or joined the Church. My second friend did. For both of them, my responsibility—my opportunity—was the same: hold up the gospel light—to love, share, and invite each of them in a normal, natural way.

Returning to college after my mission, I was considering whom I should room with. My dad suggested I reach out to a sister missionary who had recently served in my home ward and had just completed her mission. He explained that Holly was transferring to my school and she might not know many people there.
Although I knew Holly a bit from her time in our ward, I was hesitant to invite her to live with me. I was afraid she would think it was weird since we didn’t know each other well—and also because I didn’t know if we would click.
Despite my fears, I felt like following my dad’s tip would be a good thing to do. I had been praying to make new friends as I started school again, so I felt like Heavenly Father’s hand might be in my dad’s suggestion. I decided to go for it. Holly accepted my invitation, and during the year that we lived together, she became one of my best friends. Holly has offered me counsel and love during critical moments of my life, and I’ve been able to be there for her as well.
Our lives are filled with decisions. They may range in significance, but sometimes the smaller ones have the biggest impact down the road. While Heavenly Father might not initially reveal to us which choice is best in every situation, He has given us agency to act according to gospel principles and go forward with faith. I didn’t think that choosing a college roommate would have a lasting impact on my life, but it did. Only after reaching out to Holly did I realize that the Lord allowed me to make my own good decision, and I was blessed for it. Because I moved down the path I felt was right, Heavenly Father was able to introduce an amazing person into my life.

Joseph F. and his wife Julina welcomed their first child, Mercy Josephine, into the family.7 She was only two and a half years old when she passed away. Shortly after, Joseph F. recorded: “It is one month yesterday since my … darling Josephine died. O! that I could have saved her to grow up to womanhood. I miss her every day and I am lonely. … God forgive my weakness if it is wrong to love my little ones as I love them.”8

Children, you are a force for good in this world. You have a great impact on your parents and all the adults around you. Your expressions of love and your approach to life often make us think of the Savior’s teaching that we need to become as little children. When our five children were young, it was often a struggle to get all seven of us together for family home evening. Then one day, our ten-year-old daughter said, “Dad, rather than giving the lesson first, why don’t we play a game first?” And she was right! That change was what our family needed to eagerly gather together.

Our dad is a police officer. A couple of years ago when we lived in Australia, Dad was working at a big convention. Important people from all over the world were coming. There were lots of protesters, and Dad’s job was to protect the people attending the convention. It lasted five days, and it was on the television news all the time because the protesters were angry and causing problems.
Dad worked long hours and was hardly ever home during that time. We watched television as much as possible to find out what was going on. One morning, Mum turned on the TV, and Dad was on the news! The protesters were getting out of control, and the police officers were having a difficult time protecting the people at the meeting. Mum turned off the TV, and we knelt down and said a prayer. We asked Heavenly Father to protect our dad.
When Dad got home that night, he was very tired. We told him we had prayed for him that morning that he would be protected. Dad smiled. He told us that he had been on the front line facing the protesters when the sergeant told him to leave the line and go cover a different area. After he left, several police officers were injured and had to be taken to the hospital. The sergeant had made him leave the front line shortly after we had finished our prayer.
We are children of God. We can pray to Heavenly Father anytime, anywhere. We know that He hears and answers our prayers.Jessica and Jaime Zurzolo, ages 11 and 6, Weippe, Idaho

The deacons and teachers of the Sandton Ward, Sandton South Africa Stake, had a rare opportunity to explore a game preserve and learn to live, for three days, with nature as it exists in this rugged and beautiful part of the world.
The group, including the young men and their leaders, met a guide who accompanied them into the Doorndraai Dam Nature Reserve. The game park had a variety of wild animals ranging from leopards to mongeese, from giraffes to hyenas. The group had to truck in containers of water as well as food and equipment for their stay.
The first night, as darkness fell and as the campfire burned low, each member of the group was assigned an hour watch. A schedule of night watches is necessary in an area where large animals prowl. For some, the strange noises and the stories about prowling hyenas and leopards did not allow for a restful night.
The next morning the group set off on a hike. The guide pointed out plants, birds, and game. They often came across such animals as zebra, wildebeest, impala, water buck, eland, warthogs, and monkeys.
After the day’s exercise, no one had trouble sleeping the second night. The hour assigned to night watch was a welcome time to be alone, listen to the sounds of the preserve, and reflect on a loving Heavenly Father’s creations.
Heading for home, the young men packed up, then obliterated all signs of their camp. They were leaving the preserve as they had found it, except for the new appreciation of nature each one carried home.

Near Christmastime I entered an art contest with students from my area. I drew a picture of an angel appearing to shepherds, telling them the joyous news of Christ’s birth. I was delighted to learn that I was one of the finalists and that my art would be displayed at a local museum, but sad when I learned that the awards ceremony was going to be on Sunday.
When my parents asked me what I thought I should do about the ceremony, I said that we shouldn’t go because it was on Sunday. My family and I had a great time visiting the museum on Saturday to see my picture, and my award was mailed to me the next week.
I am happy that I chose to keep the Sabbath day holy. My testimony grew that day because I knew I had chosen the right. I know that Heavenly Father blesses us when we keep His commandments.

Recently, I spoke with a Laurel from the United States. I quote from her email:
“This past year some of my friends on Facebook began posting their position on marriage. Many favored same-sex marriage, and several LDS youth indicated they ‘liked’ the postings. I made no comment.
“I decided to declare my belief in traditional marriage in a thoughtful way.
“With my profile picture, I added the caption ‘I believe in marriage between a man and a woman.’ Almost instantly I started receiving messages. ‘You are selfish.’ ‘You are judgmental.’ One compared me to a slave owner. And I received this post from a great friend who is a strong member of the Church: ‘You need to catch up with the times. Things are changing and so should you.’
“I did not fight back,” she said, “but I did not take my statement down.”
She concludes: “Sometimes, as President Monson said, ‘You have to stand alone.’ Hopefully as youth, we will stand together in being true to God and to the teachings of His living prophets.”

I want to share with you an experience from my first semester in graduate school. I took a class from a very prominent professor. I worked hard in that class all semester, prepared for the final exam, and prayed to Heavenly Father for His help. The exam assignment was really simple but also really hard: we had to read and critique two very complex research papers.
As I read the first paper, something wonderful happened. In the analysis I did and in the writing of my critique, I was blessed with insights and help beyond my own. When I finished, I picked up the second paper and had exactly the same experience. I have never forgotten that day.
When good things come, it is easy to get prideful. In fact, if we do not resist diligently with faith in the Savior’s power to change our hearts, it is easy to get puffed up with pride. If we do, we stop learning deeply. I know that is true.

“Hurry faster!” Mary Jane’s friends cried as they ran down the street.
“I’m coming. I’m coming,” Mary Jane yelled back, bending to put one more rock into the bulging pockets of her light blue apron.
For a nine-year-old girl in Wales in 1846, Latter-day Saint missionaries coming to town meant excitement. She and her friends had heard many terrible stories about the “Mormons.” Surely such people deserved to be pelted with stones.
As the three girls rounded a corner, they heard music. A small crowd was singing a familiar hymn. Mary Jane was a good singer, so she joined in after she caught her breath. She didn’t know all the words, but she enjoyed humming the melodies.
As the singing ended, Mary Jane followed the elders’ example and knelt to pray. One by one, the rocks fell from the pockets of her apron. When the prayer ended, Mary Jane’s friend picked up the rocks. “Let’s get them!” she said.
“No,” Mary Jane said quietly. “I want to listen to what they’re saying.”
She turned her eyes toward the missionaries and listened carefully. One of the elders said that a prophet named Joseph Smith had seen Heavenly Father and His Son, Jesus Christ, in a grove of trees. Another explained why we are born on this earth. As Mary Jane listened, her friends slipped through the crowd and ran off to play. When the elders finished preaching, Mary Jane walked slowly home, thinking about all she had heard.
As the days passed, Mary Jane kept listening to the elders. She loved what she was learning about Heavenly Father. Her mother did not. She was so opposed to what the missionaries taught that she sometimes hid Mary Jane’s clothes or denied her food so she would stop going to church.
But Mary Jane loved the gospel more than ever. She had learned to pray, and her prayers for a testimony were answered. She wanted to be baptized. Finally on a cold December night, she was baptized in a frozen river. The elders had to use an ax to cut a hole in the ice. Even though Mary Jane’s body was very cold that night, her heart was warm. She knew that she had made the right decision.
But she was sad because her mother could not understand the true gospel. Every day, Mary Jane knelt to pray. “Heavenly Father, I am so glad to be a member of the Church, but I want my mother to be baptized, too,” she said. “Please help her to understand the message. Please let something happen to help her accept the gospel.” For three years Mary Jane prayed for her mother. She never gave up hope.
When Mary Jane was 13 years old, her mother became seriously ill with a disease that settled in her foot. It was very painful.
One day Mary Jane said to her mother, “Why don’t I ask the elders to come and give you a priesthood blessing?” Because her foot was hurting so much, Mary Jane’s mother finally agreed. The elders gave Mary Jane’s mother a blessing, and to her amazement, her foot immediately stopped hurting. Mary Jane knew her prayers had been answered.
Soon afterward her mother started going to Church meetings. It wasn’t long before she also joined the Church. Mary Jane was happier than she had ever been.
When Mary Jane was 17 years old, she and her mother sailed to America on the ship Jersey and then traveled on to Utah. For the rest of her life, Mary Jane followed the Savior as she had been taught on a street corner in Wales. She was always grateful that she had listened to the elders that day. She was especially glad that when she was nine years old she had decided not to throw the rocks that had fallen from the pockets of her light blue apron.

Elder Jeffrey R. Holland told of a young man who was the brunt of his peers’ teasing during his school years. Some years later he moved away, joined the military, received an education, and became active in the Church. This period of his life was marked with wonderfully successful experiences.

After several years he returned to his hometown. However, the people refused to acknowledge his growth and improvement. To them, he was still just old “so-and-so,” and they treated him that way. Eventually, this good man faded away to a shadow of his former successful self without being able to use his marvelously developed talents to bless those who derided and rejected him once again.10 What a loss, both for him and the community!

SISTER JAGGI: As we prepare to receive the gift of power found in the temple ordinances, the Lord confirms the temple is a place of holiness. As we prepare, we may experience more abundant peace. In late spring 2007, we stood outside the Salt Lake City Temple with our four children, family, and friends who anxiously awaited the exit of Aunt Emily and Uncle Brian who had just been sealed inside. Sometimes the waiting outside the temple can feel long, especially for little ones. I remember looking towards the north side of the temple at ground level seeing our nine-year-old, Mackenzie, wearing her white baptismal dress, peering into the stained-glass window.

She tilted her head and angled her body, studying out a hopeful view to anything she could possibly see inside. We were moved as she returned to us with enthusiastic anticipation. She expressed she just wanted to go inside the temple! It was not yet her time.

A photographer friend nearby captured this tender moment of connection and later painted this scene. It hangs in our bedroom now as a precious memory that teaches us much. Throughout her childhood, the Primary song “I Love to See the Temple” was one of her favorites and had secured its place in her bedtime medley of lullabies we would sing her and subsequent children night after night. Reflecting back, I see that the truths of this song served as a daily affirmation of her love for and preparation to enter the house of the Lord on her birthday as a 12-year-old in the Los Angeles California Temple baptistry.

Eugène used to think all churches were the same. Then the missionaries came to his door and started teaching his family. Gradually he came to understand that the gospel has been restored, and that there’s a great role in it for young men. He was baptized and, when he came of age, ordained a deacon.

“Now, I’m the only Aaronic Priesthood holder in the entire city,” he says. “There are Melchizedek Priesthood holders, and they help me. But when we have sacrament meeting, I pass the sacrament.”

First Episode
I worked extensively with President Eyring during the transformation of Ricks College from a two-year junior college to the university known today as BYU–Idaho. At the time, he was a member of the Twelve and the commissioner of Church education.

Elder Eyring visited the Rexburg campus to assess the progress of the transition. I shared with him a status report on student enrollment projections, physical facilities renovations, construction projects, hiring of new employees, and many other topics. And we devoted considerable time to reviewing the financial resources and timeline necessary for the success of the transition.

During our time together, it became apparent that Elder Eyring and I had differing interpretations of the total resource package that had been approved by the Church Board of Education for the transition. We worked together to come to a common understanding but were not successful. I then indicated my willingness to do whatever the Brethren directed. But I also explained that fewer resources would necessitate the transition plan and timeline to be scaled back accordingly. We ended our workday together without achieving a final resolution.

Elder Eyring spent the night in our home. When he came to the kitchen for breakfast the next morning, his first statement was, “President, I was rebuked by the Holy Ghost last night.” He then indicated that the transition should continue going forward as outlined the previous day and that he had no ongoing concerns about the resources.

He then said to me something I have never forgotten: “President, if you have not been rebuked lately by the Holy Ghost as you are praying, then you need to improve your prayers.”

Given his extensive experience in institutions of higher education, his position as a member of the Twelve, and his authority as the commissioner of Church education, he simply could have decided “this is the way it will be.” But he did not do that. Elder Eyring learned of and from the Savior, he listened to His words that came by the power of the Holy Ghost, and he then walked in the meekness of the Lord’s Spirit. I learned valuable lessons about meekness through this experience with Elder Eyring. Such meekness is essential for inspiring and experiential learning.

My 12-year-old son cleans garbage cans for a living. It’s dirty work. He has seen and smelled things that would haunt your dreams. When he first started a few years ago, the pressure washer would actually push him backward.

So, what makes this young entrepreneur deal with the dirt, garbage, and smell? It’s actually simple. My son wants to buy stuff. Cleaning garbage cans is part of his plan to be able to buy things. He would hate cleaning garbage cans if he was cleaning garbage cans for the sake of cleaning garbage cans! But cleaning garbage cans is a part of his plan for a bigger goal—whether that be a new video game, candy, etc. At times we can forget that we are in the midst of a celestial plan that is leading us to exaltation!

When we remember that plan, we can look and feel like my son, even after he cleans smelly, dirty garbage cans!

When President Gordon B. Hinckley (1910–2008) was a young man, he and his family lived on a farm during the summer. He had this experience there:
“There was a dead tree I wished to pull. I fastened one end of a chain to the tractor and the other end to the tree. As the tractor began to move, the tree shook a little, and then the chain broke.
“I looked at that broken link and wondered how it could have given way. I went to the hardware store and bought a repair link. I put it together again, but it was an awkward and ugly connection. The chain was never, never the same.”1