Gospel Story Finder

During a priesthood executive committee meeting, our full-time missionaries reported meeting a member whose records were not in the ward. I recognized the name immediately and mentioned that she and I had been in the same ward many years ago.
One of the missionaries said, “Yes, bishop, she mentioned that and seemed quite surprised that you were the bishop.”
I asked them, “What did she say?”
They said she looked very surprised and said, “He’s the bishop?”
I had to laugh and explain that this sister knew me as a very different person 30 years ago.

A few weeks ago I learned an important lesson from a Laurel who was the youth speaker in my ward. I was touched as she confidently taught and testified of Jesus Christ. She concluded her remarks with this statement: “When I make Jesus Christ the center of my life, my day goes better, I’m kinder to my loved ones, and I am filled with joy.”
I have observed this young woman from a distance over the past few months. She greets everyone with sparkling eyes and a quick smile. I’ve watched her rejoice in the success of other youth. Two Mia Maids recently reported to me of this young woman’s decision to forfeit her ticket to a movie when she realized that it was not going to be an experience that was “virtuous and lovely.”1 She’s loving, kind, and obedient. She comes from a single-parent home, and her life has not been without challenges, so I’ve wondered how she maintains her happy, kind spirit. When this young woman testified, “I center my life on Jesus Christ,” I had the answer.

Years ago, I arrived home from work and was startled to see white paint splattered everywhere—on the ground, the garage door, and our red-brick house. I inspected the scene more closely and discovered the paint was still wet. A trail of paint led toward the backyard, and so I followed it. There, I found my five-year-old son with a paintbrush in his hand, chasing our dog. Our beautiful black Labrador was splattered almost half white!
“What are you doing?” I asked in an animated voice.
My son stopped, looked at me, looked at the dog, looked at the paintbrush dripping with paint, and said, “I just want him to look like the black-spotted dogs in the movie—you know, the one with 101 Dalmatians.”
I loved our dog. I thought he was perfect, but that day my son had a different idea. …
… Our young son had a beautiful dog as a pet; notwithstanding, he grabbed a gallon of paint and, with paintbrush in hand, determined to create his own imagined reality.
… [This is a story] of mistaken identity—presuming the real thing to be something else. In [this] case, the consequences were minor.

It’s Tuesday night in Nashua. Sixty teachers and their spouses begin arriving at the appreciation night. They’re talking with their students, and the youth are relaxing.
I stop 14-year-old Cyndie Munk and ask her how it’s going. Three or four of her teachers are already here. “The teachers are just so impressed that we want to honor them,” she says, grinning. She sees her vice principal walk in and waves in his direction. “He never gets to do anything,” she tells me. “I gave him his invitation and told him what it was for and he absolutely beamed. Every time I saw him around school he just started smiling, asking if he was still supposed to come.”
The teachers are filing out and Cyndie sums up the Nashua evening for me. “My teachers said they’ve never had anyone do anything like this for them,” she says. “But I think they work hard. They give up a lot of their own time for us. I think they deserved this.”

I had left the Church as a teenager because I didn’t believe it to be true. I even stopped believing in God. Then in my 20s, I had an experience of conversion, and I knew the Church was true. I remember feeling the excitement of realizing the truth of the gospel. That excitement lasted only about a minute before my stomach turned with the sobering reality that my whole life would require an overhaul because of my conversion. How do you change nearly everything about your life and become the person you know you should be?
On that day in my 20s, I called my grandpa. I knew I could trust his direction with this problem. He listened to my concerns about how to change my entire life when I was unsure how to do so. Then he said, “Just pick one thing. Pick one thing, work on that, and when you’re ready, pick another. That’s all you have to do.”
I don’t know what I had expected to hear, but that wasn’t it. I needed to be so much better than I was, and I thought that changing one thing at a time wouldn’t be nearly enough. But somehow, in some fleeting moment of spiritual maturity, I decided to follow his advice. With such a staggering number of changes I was facing at that time of returning to the Church, what one thing should I choose first? The weight of this list that we all know (go to church, read scriptures, pray, pay tithing, serve in a calling, etc.) was overwhelming all on its own.
There were so many things I knew I would struggle to change, and I hadn’t felt strong enough to tackle them yet. So I decided to choose something I could do—something important but small. It would put me on the road I wanted to be on, and I’d be able to build on that success.

Specky Sparrow cheeped and fussed
and wouldn’t learn to fly.
His patient mother coaxed and called,
“Please, Specky, come and try.”
“I can’t! I can’t!” cried Specky.
“I know my wings will break.
I’ll fall straight down and hit the ground,
or land out in the lake.”
“He can’t,” said the ant.
“He won’t try,” said the fly.
“Doesn’t know how,” said the cow.
“He’s not very big,” said the pig.
“Leap,” said the sheep.
“Let go,” said the doe.
“When, when?” asked the wren.
“Let me see,” said the bee.
His friends discussed his problem
and decided on a plan.
They found a very large green leaf
shaped something like a fan,
And made a grass-blade harness
and a tiny flying suit,
Then hooked them to the spreading
leaf to make a parachute.
“Fits like a glove,” said the dove.
“Fits like a coat,” said the goat.
“Now you’ll see,” said the flea.
“Go, go,” said the crow.
“Jump now,” said the cow.
“Try, try,” said the fly.
“Never fear,” said the deer.
“Good luck,” said the duck.
Specky Sparrow looked and looked
down at the ground below.
“My feet are brave enough,” he said,
“but my wings won’t seem to go.”
Then suddenly a gust of wind
blew Specky way up high.
It tore the chute and harness off,
leaving Specky in the sky.
“It’s broken loose,” said the goose.
“He’s way up there,” said the bear.
“He looks pale,” said the snail.
“He’ll land in a thicket,” said the cricket.
“He’ll land in a bog,” said the frog.
“He’ll land in the brush,” said the thrush.
“He’ll fall on the house,” said the mouse.
“Terrible luck,” said the duck.
Then Specky’s wings began to move
and flutter in the sky.
“I think I can,” cried Specky,
“I’ll sure give it a try!”
He wobbled, tilted, bobbed, and swayed.
He almost hit the ground.
But soon his wings were stronger
and he was skyward bound.
“Watch him go,” said the crow.
“See him steer,” said the deer.
“He’s flying better,” said the setter.
“He’s over the lake,” said the snake.
“He’s over the road,” said the toad.
“He’s over the park,” said the lark.
“How pleasant,” said the pheasant.
“What a day!” said the jay.
Now flying’s Specky’s favorite sport.
His wings are straight and strong.
He flies up high. He flies down low.
He flies the whole day long.
In summer, winter, spring, and fall,
in rain and wind and snow,
His friends all watch and point and say,
“Just look at Specky go!”

After I graduated from law school, my wife, Marcia, and I chose to join a law firm that specialized in trial law. As I began my on-the-job training, I spent much of my time preparing witnesses to testify at trial. I quickly learned that facts were determined in a courtroom as witnesses, under oath, testified to the truthfulness of what they had both seen and heard. As witnesses testified, their words were both recorded and preserved. The importance of credible witnesses was always at the forefront of my preparation.

The world is grappling with an invisible enemy which has led so many countries to lock down and regular life seems to have ground to a halt. Ghana is no exception, as I found myself in one of the lockdown areas with school activities suspended.
Amidst all this turmoil, it is very astonishing to see how leaders and members of the Church are doing all they can to keep to their covenants and to continually trust in the Lord. Friday evenings happen to be when we meet as young single adults for the eternal marriage class. Due to the threat posed by COVID-19, and the directive to stay at home, our gathering as a class seemed impossible in this difficult time. With the continual inspirations from the Lord, the instructors resorted to the use of online platforms like Zoom and WhatsApp for us to continually study and interact with each other.
In one of our classes, we discussed the topic of money and marriage. A lot of insights and experiences were shared on the platform to help us continue to know what the Lord wanted us to do. I felt this great peace of mind and I realized in a very subtle feeling that indeed God loves us and will continue to direct us towards the right paths no matter what the challenges may be. The discussion that evening was the only thing that ran through my mind that day until I went to sleep.
I realized from this experience that regardless of the circumstances we find ourselves in, we can continually do what we know to be right, share our testimonies to the people we can reach out to, and be a light that signals hope in the lives of people.
The world may be in despair, lives may be at a standstill, our faith may be challenged and pushed to the core, but one thing I know and believe in is that the redeeming and merciful alms of the Lord are not far from us and He will succor us in this time as He did for those in times past.

One of the young women in our ward was taking a test at the local high school. As she looked up, she saw one of her friends cheating. Their eyes made contact. Embarrassed, the friend shrugged her shoulders and mouthed the words “I need the grade.” Somehow this young lady had lost her eternal vision—it is not grades but godhood that is our destination. What good does it do to be accepted to the most prestigious university but forfeit our exaltation in the process? Every time someone cheats, he trades his spiritual birthright for a mess of pottage (see Genesis 25:29–34). In his shortsightedness he has opted for a dollar today rather than infinite wealth in the life to come.

Travis Hamby of Burley, Idaho, took first place in the Youth Barebow Field Competition sponsored by the National Field Archery Association.

Travis has been competing on a state level for four years, and this was his first national competition. He plans to continue competing and train for the Olympics.

In addition to archery, Travis enjoys participating in sports at school. He is involved in wrestling, football, basketball, and track.

Travis is a teacher in the Burley Eighth Ward, Burley Idaho Stake.

Tsolmon Ulya and Davaa Hana are modern-day pioneers. When they were baptized in May 1994, they became a huge help to the missionaries serving in their native Mongolia. Since they both have excellent English skills they became translators in many church meetings and missionary discussions. These girls, described as “dynamos” by the missionaries that have worked with them, have strong testimonies of the gospel of Jesus Christ that they are willing to share with anyone who will listen.
“We need to share the beauty of the gospel with our families and our friends,” they say. “We are all children of our Heavenly Father.”

While some people may think of Africa as an adventureland of lions and elephants, for a group of South African teenagers, it’s just home. The LDS group got together for fellowshipping and learning at a youth conference in Cape Town. They took their theme from one of President Kimball’s messages on magnifying opportunities through loving service to others.
The four-day event started with a rousing barn dance. During a day of workshops, the group received instruction in self-defense, dance, photography, and car maintenance. Besides the fun and activities held at Muisenberg Beach the following day, the youth donated their time and talents in several service projects. A highlight of the conference was the speech, poster, poem, and badge competitions. The winning poem was read aloud as part of the program.
The conference concluded with a special testimony meeting in a garden setting. Participants were reminded of the importance of service in all aspects of their lives.

A child learns in Primary that Jesus loves her.

Patrick was born in Abington, Pennsylvania, and because of a complication at birth he lived only six days. We lived near a lovely little cemetery, but decided that he should be buried instead in a location near where we would want our eventual home to be—or at least in an area we could easily visit, since corporate assignments might require us to move frequently for many years.

We therefore held the funeral and buried him in Utah, where we grew up and where our parents lived. Since then we have moved to two different European countries on assignment, and then back to Utah. We are grateful for having made that decision.

Two missionaries related that one night they were walking a familiar countryside road. Suddenly, they both had an impression that they should go no farther in that direction. They retraced their steps and took another way home. The next day, they wondered why they had felt constrained to stop. They went back, this time in daylight, and found that, within a few feet of where they had stopped, a bridge had washed out. These are a few examples of the Spirit constraining people to not do something. We should be aware, too, that sometimes the Spirit may constrain us to do something, not just warn us against an action.

At this time of year my thoughts turn to the Savior and Joseph Smith, and I love to read about them in the scriptures. The most important gift I received for Christmas as a teenager was my triple combination: the Book of Mormon, Doctrine and Covenants, and Pearl of Great Price. It was leather bound with a dedication in the flyleaf by my father. That gift was not important to me then. In fact, I was disappointed.
Since then that triple combination has become precious to me because it reminds me of the things I learned as a teenager about the Savior and His life. That triple combination went with me on my mission. It served me while I was a bishop. It became a precious possession to me and still is. I wore out the first binding, and it has been rebound.

Among my fondest memories of my Primary years is singing the beautiful children’s songs. One of my favorites is “Jesus Once Was a Little Child.”
Jesus once was a little child,
A little child like me;
And he was pure and meek and mild,
As a little child should be.
So, little children,
Let’s you and I
Try to be like him,
Try, try, try.
(Children’s Songbook, 55)
Everything in that song caused me to know and feel that Jesus loved me and all children. Although the words themselves do not say so, the spirit of His love for me was real. Also, it evoked in me as a child in Primary, and still does today, the greatest love and respect for the Savior and a desire to be like Him.
When I read the four Gospels in the New Testament, especially of the miracles and healings and blessing of children, I feel that same feeling of love—His love for me and my love for Him.

Elder John B. Dickson, former President of the South America South Area, tells of an area-wide youth service activity that was held several years ago: “The youth of the Comodoro Rivadavia Argentina Stake, in the extreme southern part of Argentina, prepared to paint a 1.25-kilometer beach wall fence. One hundred and fifty youth and their leaders with white paint, buckets, and brushes must have created quite a sight, because when the local radio station heard about the event, they came to investigate. ‘Who are these young people?’ they asked. ‘They are youth from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.’ ‘Why are they doing this?’ ‘Well, they just love their community and want to give some voluntary service.’ This information went out to all the radio stations and newspapers in the community.

“These kids knew they were doing something for someone else—taking their minds off themselves as they served others,” says Elder Dickson. “If you multiply that kind of example time and time again—in about 160 stakes throughout the area—all giving service to their communities on the same day, the effect is staggering!”

When I would attempt to walk half a block in my neighborhood, I often experienced shortness of breath, light-headedness, and joint pain. I had been a runner previous to contracting the virus, and now I could only walk slowly. Many times I would fall on my knees to pray that I could get up and feel up. The fatigue got worse every time I tried to get up and do too much. One day I got up and my back went out. I fell to the floor in tears and pain. I cried out to Heavenly Father, “I can’t take it anymore!” He knew I was down and helped me up once again. I would often tell myself, “Just hold on.” There was not much else I could do. By choosing to hold on to hope in Christ and continually calling upon the Lord, I was able to press on.

Growing up, I was always inclined to perfectionism. So when I received my patriarchal blessing, one admonition in particular seemed natural: to complete the tasks I was given “to the best of [my] ability, to perfection.” Only later would I start to realize how little I understood perfection—or the role of grace.
In 1998 I returned home early from a mission due to health problems. I felt a tremendous amount of guilt because I felt I had not completed my mission “to perfection.” Added to this sense of failure was uncertainty about my illness. So far, doctors had been unable to diagnose it.
In spite of my health challenges, I knew I needed to move forward, so I enrolled in a university to continue my education. After only two quarters, however, I returned home again, in pain, for urgent surgery. It was at this point that doctors discovered I had an autoimmune disease.
While I was recovering from surgery, I began working part-time at the chocolate store where I had been employed as a teenager. Even though I was doing what I could, I didn’t feel that I was pursuing anything worthwhile, much less completing it “to perfection.” I began to compare myself to others, especially to my friends who were completing their college degrees, serving missions, or starting families. I felt left behind.
Then I met Stephanie. She came into the candy store one day wearing a black scarf around her head. As I pointed out to her my favorite chocolate, I felt impressed to inquire about her situation. She smiled, removed her scarf, and, pointing to her bald head, told me she was going through chemotherapy. That exchange was the start of a special and candid friendship.
Stephanie came by the store regularly to enjoy a treat and talk about life. I learned that she was a member of the Church and that she had struggled spiritually as well as physically. She told me about some rebellious choices she had made and about her efforts to repent. She was working toward being sealed to her husband in the temple.
One day I shared some of my own challenges. I confided in her how discouraged I was by my circumstances. “I am scooping the same ice cream I scooped in high school,” I explained. “I didn’t complete my mission or college, and I don’t know what to do now.”
Stephanie responded, “Why do you have to finish the race of life in a set time? Why not just run the race?”
For the first time, I realized that the efforts I was making were my best, and my best was enough. The Savior loved me, and His grace, through His Atonement, was sufficient for me, for my deficiencies. Although I felt I had been looking to Him all along, until Stephanie shared her insight with me, I had somehow missed an important lesson about His role in my life.
Ether 12:27 says, “My grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them.” As I have been able to humble myself and have faith in the Lord, I have seen over and over again that He does indeed make weak things become strong. My increased testimony of this truth has helped me face my challenges with greater faith and hope.
A few months after that conversation, I left my hometown to start a new job and lost contact with my friend. One day my mom called to tell me that she had seen Stephanie’s obituary in the newspaper. I came home to attend her funeral and learned she had been sealed to her husband just three weeks before her death.
My heart sighed with gratitude for having had Stephanie in my life and for what she taught me about running a perfect race. I don’t always need to sprint. Occasionally, it will be all I can do to simply face the finish line. Doing our best to move forward—no matter what speed “our best” is—is OK. Our efforts can be made perfect because the Lord’s grace is sufficient for us all (see Moroni 10:32).